Works Volume 4, Part 2
Pars Secunda.
SERMON XVII.
2 PET. III.3.
Scoffers walking after their own Luſts.
IT is an excellent obſervation of Ariſtotles, that rich men are naturally moſt contumelious, moſt given to abuſe and deride others, which he expreſſes thus, in the ſeventh of his Pol. foreign.C. 15. The contentment which they enjoy in the continuance of their worldly happineſs, the perpetual reſt, and quiet, and tranquillity, which their plenty beſtows on them, makes them contemn and deſpiſe the eſtate of any other man in the World. Upon this conceit, ſaith the ſame Ariſtotle, (foreign,) that their happineſs is elevated infinitely above the ordinary pitch; that whatever contentments any other ſort of people can glory or delight in, is but ſome imaginary, ſlight, poor happineſs that men are fain to ſolace themſelves withal, to keep them from melancholy, all far enough below the ſize of their felicity, which all agreeable circumſtances have conſpired to make exactly complete. Hence is it, that you ſhall ordinarily obſerve the rich man, in this confidence of his opinion, that no man is happy but himſelf, either contemn or pity the poverty, and improvidence, and perhaps the ſottiſhneſs of ſuch Spirits, that can rejoice or boaſt in the poſſeſſion of Wiſdom, knowledge, nay even of Gods graces; no object is more ridiculous in his Eye, than either a Scholar, or a Chriſtian, 2 Rhet. c. 16.that knows not the value of riches: for ſaith Ariſtotle, foreign. Money is reckoned the price of all things elſe, that which can eaſily purchaſe whatever elſe we can ſtand in need of; and therefore the rich man, if he could think Learning and Religion worth any thing, having his money by him, (which is in effect every thing,) thinks he can call for them when he pleaſes. In the mean, he hath more wit than to forſake his pleaſures, and go to School to the Stoick, to diveſt himſelf of his Robes, and put on the ſowreneſs, the rigid, ſad behaviour which the profeſſion of Wiſdom or Chriſtianity requires. He is better pleaſed in his preſent pomp, than to go and woo that miſery and ruggedneſs, which the ſeverity of Diſcipline looks for. Let ſilly beggars boaſt of the contents of Wiſdom, or hopes of Heaven, at mihi plaudo domi, his Coffers at home are better Companions than all the melancholy of Books, or ſullen ſolaces of the ſpirit. He hath learnt by experience, that he ought to pity and contemn theſe fictions of delight which the Poets fetch from the fortunate Iſlands, to delude, and cozen, and comfort Beggars: his glory, and pride, and riches, are happineſs indeed, and whatever elſe the poverty of the World can boaſt of, are objects not of his envy but his ſcorn.
What we have hitherto noted to you concerning the rich man, is applyable on the ſame grounds to any ſort of people which have fixt upon any worldly content, and reſolved upon ſome one object, beſide which they will never value or prize any thing. Thus the Epicure or voluptuous man, who hath ſet up his Idol Luſt, to whom he owes all his Sacrifice, and from whom he expects all his good Fortune, that hath fixt his Pillars, and caſt his Anchor, and is peremptorily conſtant in his courſe, that he is reſolved for ever to walk in: This man I ſay, being poſſeſt with an opinion of the happineſs which he is placed in, like the Sun in his pride, rejoices to run his courſe, and ſcorns any contrary motion that he meets or hears of; and only obſerves the wayes of virtue, and Religion, to hate and laugh at them: and the farther he walks, the deeper he is engaged in this humor of ſelf-content, and contempt of others, of ſecurity, and ſcoffing. For this is the force and implicite argument, covertly contained in the cloſe of theſe words, There ſhall come in the laſt days, ſcoffers, &c. i. e. this reſolution to walk on in their own Luſts, hath brought them to this pitch of Atheiſm, to ſcoff and deride both God and goodneſs. There ſhall, &c.
We have heretofore divided theſe words, and in them obſerved and handled already the ſin of Atheiſm, together with the ſubjects in which it works, Chriſtians of the laſt times, noted from this prophetick Speech, There ſhall come in the laſt dayes Scoffers. We now come to the ſecond particular, the motive, or impellent to this ſin, a liberty which men give themſelves, and a content which they take, to walk after their own luſts.
The ſecond Chapter of the Wiſdom of Solomon, is an excellent deſcription of the Atheiſt: and though it be of Apocryphal authority, yet 'tis of moſt divine Canonical truth. I could find in my heart, nay I can ſcarce hold from reading, and paraphraſing the whole Chapter to you: 'tis ſo ſolid, ſo ſtrong, ſo perfect a Diſcourſe upon this theme, it contains ſo many ſtrains of Atheiſtical reaſon in oppoſition to godlineſs, and the root, and growth, and maturity of this tree of knowledge, and death; that the clear underſtanding of that one place, might ſuffice without any enlargement of proofs or expreſſions. But for brevity ſake, and on promiſe that you will at your leiſure ſurvey it, I will omit to inſiſt on it: only in the end of the 21 Verſe, after all the expreſſions of their Atheiſtical counſels, you have the reaſon, or motive, or firſt worker of all, For their own wickedneſs hath blinded them; their ſtupid perſeverance in thoſe dark wayes, in that black Tophet on Earth, habituate cuſtom of ſinning, had ſo thickned their ſight, had drawn ſuch a film over their Eyes, that in the judgment of divine affairs, they were ſtark blind: they could ſee nothing in all the myſtery of godlineſs which was worth embracing; and therefore had no employment, but to walk on after their own Luſts, and to ſcoff at thoſe that were ſo fooliſhly friendly to them, as to call them out of their way: they were well enough acquainted with their own paths, they could walk them blindfold, and therefore had more wit than forſake the road for a nearer by-way. The iſſue of all is this, that a voluptuous courſe of life is a great promoter and advancer of Atheiſm: there had never been ſo many Scoffers in the World, had there not been alſo thoſe that were reſolute to walk after their own Luſts.
In the firſt Verſe of the Pſalms, there be ſteps, and rounds, and gradations of a Sinner ſpecified, 1. Walking in the counſel of the ungodly, 2. Standing in the way of ſinners, 3. Sitting in the ſeat of the ſcorner: The two firſt being degrees in his motion, ſeveral ſtages of his Journey to this foreign, or top pitch of ſinning in the laſt. Walking in the counſel of the ungodly, is the firſt entrance to his courſe: and he that hath ſuch a riſe as this, hath a great advantage of all other Sinners; he will perform his race with ſpeed, and come ſuddenly to his goal. This deliberate walking in the wayes, and with the Companions and contrivers of ungodlineſs, this partaking and proſecuting of the counſels, the enjoying this familiarity with ſin, proves a ſtrong engagement to continue and perſevere, and delight in its acquaintance. Yet becauſe walking is a laborious motion, and will tire the Sinner in time, he is fain to betake himſelf to an eaſier poſture, and that is ſtanding in the way of ſinners, continuing in a ſtill, ſober, quiet, ſtupid tranquillity of ſinning, ſtanding like a Mercury's Poſt in the midſt of a rode, never removed or ſtirred an inch, though never ſo juſtled by the Paſſengers. Let all the contrary vertues never ſo thwart and croſs him, he hath fixed his ſtation, and neither force, nor allurements ſhall make him move. Yet becauſe ſtanding alſo is a painful poſture, with which the valianteſt Legs will at laſt be nummed, if not tyred, he hath in the laſt place his Chair of eaſe and ſtate, and here he ſets up his reſt, here he ſins with as much Majeſty as delight. 1. In cathedrâ, as a ſeat of greatneſs, lording it, and ſinning imperiouſly, commanding every Spectator to follow his example of ſcoffing at God and goodneſs. 2. In cathedrâ, as a ſeat of authority, ſinning doctorally, and magiſterially, by his practice defining the lawfulneſs of theſe ſcoffs, even ſetting up a School of Atheiſm. And thirdly in cathedrâ, as a ſeat of reſt, and eaſe, and pleaſure, which he is reſolved never to riſe out of, which he hath repoſed himſelf in, that he may laugh at eaſe, and without any pains or trouble, or charges, blaſpheme God for ever. And for the moſt part indeed he proves as bad as his reſolution, having once given himſelf this licence of laughing at and deriding Religion, he ſeldom ever recovers himſelf to a ſober countenance, like men *whomwhoſe cuſtom of ſcoffing hath made wry-mouthed, he lives and continues, and for the moſt part, dyes ſcoffing. He comes as it were laughing into Hell, and ſeldom forſakes this habit of prophaneneſs, till horror hath put ſmiling out of date. There is not a ſin in the World, that ſits cloſer to him which hath once entertained it; and he that is once a merry Atheiſt, ſeldom, if ever proves a ſad ſober Chriſtian. He is ſeated in his Chair of ſcorning, and contemns the mercy of that ſpirit, that ſhould take him out of it. Thus you ſee, that walking in the ſteps, and ſtanding in the way, i. e. following the commands of their own luſts, they are ſoon arrived to the pitch of Atheiſts, to the chair of ſcorners; and then, there is but little preferment more that they are capable of, unleſs they will ſtrive with Lucifer for preeminence in Hell, or elſe challenge Rabſhakeh to rayl, or Julian to blaſpheme. But this is the higheſt degree of Scoffers, and I hope the Devil hath but few ſuch valiant, bold, forward Champions in the World, ſince Julian or Lucian's time. And therefore I hope I have prickt no mans Conſcience here, whilſt I have ſpoke of them: but I have formerly proved, that there be ſome lower, tamer, ſecret degrees of Atheiſm, which every man may chance to ſpy in ſome angle or corner of his Soul, ſome implicite artificial ways of ſcoffing, or abaſing God, which moſt of us are guilty of: and 'twill be worthy our pains to ſhew how theſe ſeeds are warmed, and cheriſhed, and animated by a licentious life. Hippocrates obſerves of the Scythians, foreign.that they do not ſwathe themſelves, nor bind in their Loins with any kind of girdle, but go with their bodies very looſe, that they may ride the eaſier, which is the only exerciſe they uſe: and from hence, ſaith he, they grow ſo corpulent and fleſhy, ſo broad and bulky, that they are both ugly and unweildy, an Eye-ſore to others, and cumberſom to themſelves: thoſe acceſſions which in other people extend themſelves proportionably in length, and breadth, in height, as well as bulk, in them grow all into thickneſs: ſo that you ſhall ſee a Pygmy in ſtature, as big as a Gyant in the girt. Thus is it with thoſe whoſe affections are not ruled, and reſtrained in order, and within limits, are not ſwathed and kept in, have not ſome ſet terms of temperance, and other virtues, beyond which they ſuffer not themſelves to fly out. If, I ſay, theſe affections within us, be by the owners left ungirt, to their own freedom; they will never grow upward toward Heaven: they will ſtill be dwarfiſh, of ſmall growth in Religion: but yet like thoſe Scythians, they will run into a ſtrange bulk and corpulence, into ſome unweildy mis-ſhapen forms of Atheiſm, or the like. Certainly they will grow into a greater breadth than the reaſonable Soul will be able to manage: unleſs the ſpirit vouchſafe to come down and contract, and call it into bounds, it will encreaſe beyond all proportion, beyond all acknowledgment of God or Religion. We are uſed to ſay in nature, that all moiſt things are apt to be contained in other terms, but hardly in their own: the water is eaſily cooped up in a Glaſs or Bucket, where there are boundaries to keep it in; but being let looſe on a table or a floor, it flies about, and never ſtayes again, till it meet with ſome Ocean, or hollow place which may incloſe, and beſtow the conſiſtency on it, which it has not of it ſelf. Thus may you ſee a River whilſt it is kept within the Chanel, go on in its ſtream and courſe very ſoberly and orderly; but when it hath over-ſwelled the Banks which before kept it in, then doth it run about the paſtures, ſcorns to be kept within any compaſs. Thus is it with the ſoul of man; if it be ordered within terms and bounds, if it have a ſtrict hand held over it, if it be curb'd and brought to its poſtures, if it have reaſon and grace, and a careful Tutor to order it, you ſhall find it as tame a Creature as you need deal with: it will never ſtraggle or ſtray beyond the confines which the ſpirit hath ſet it; the reaſon is, becauſe though it be in it ſelf fluid, and moiſt, and ready to run about like water, yet Deus firmavit Aquas, God hath made a Firmament betwixt the waters, as he did Gen. i.7.Gen. i.7. i. e. he hath eſtabliſht it, and given it a conſiſtency, that it ſhould not flow or pour it ſelf out beyond its place. But if this Soul of man be left to its own nature, to its own fluid, wild, incontinent condition, it preſently runs out into an Ocean, never ſtaies, or conſiders, or conſults, but ruſhes head-long into all inordinacy, having neither the reins of reaſon nor God to keep it in, it never thinks of either of them, and unleſs by chance, or by Gods mercy, it fall into their hands, 'tis likely to run riot for ever. Being once let looſe, it ranges, as if there were neither power on Earth to quell, nor in Heaven to puniſh it. Thus do you ſee how fluid, how inconſtant the Soul is of its own accord, how prone it is, how naturally inclined, to run over like a ſtream over the Banks, and if it be not ſwathed, and kept in, if it be left to the licentious condition of it ſelf, how ready is it to contemn both reaſon and God, and run head-long into Atheiſm. Nay we need not ſpeak ſo mercifully of it, this very licentiouſneſs is the actual renouncing of Religion, this very walking after their own luſts, is not only a motive to this ſin of ſcoffing, but the very ſin it ſelf.
A falſe Conception in the Womb, is only a rude, confuſed, ugly Chaos, a meer lump of fleſh, of no kind of figure or reſemblance, gives only diſappointment, danger, and torment to the Mother. 'Tis the ſoul at its entrance which defines, and trims, and poliſhes into a body, that gives it Eyes, and Ears, and Legs, and Hands, which before it had not diſtinctly and ſeverally, but only rudely altogether with that maſs or lump. Thus is it with the Man, till Religion hath entred into him as a Soul to inform, and faſhion him; as long as he lives thus at large, having no terms, or bounds, or limits to his actions, having no form, or figure, or certain motion defined him, he is a Mola, a meer lump of man, an arrant Atheiſt: you cannot diſcern any features or lineaments of a Chriſtian in him; he hath neither Eyes to ſee, nor Ears to hear, nor hands to practice any duty that belongs to his peace. Only 'tis Religion muſt take him up, muſt ſmooth and dreſs him over, and according to its Etymon, muſt religare, ſwathe and bind up this looſe piece of fleſh, muſt animate and inform him, muſt reduce him to ſome ſet form of Chriſtianity, or elſe he is likely after a long and fruitleſs travel to appear a deformed monſtrous Atheiſt. But not to deal any longer upon ſimile's, leſt we ſeem to confound and perplex a truth by explaining it, I told you the licentious voluptuous life was it ſelf perfect Heatheniſm. For can you imagine a man to be any but a Gentile, who hath abandoned all love, all awe, all fear, all care of God (any one of which would much contract and draw him into compaſs) who hath utterly put off every garb of a Chriſtian, who hath enjoy'd the reins ſo long, that now he is not ſenſible, or at leaſt contemns the curb or ſnaffle if he be but check't with it, gets it in his teeth and runs away with it more fiercely. The Heathen are noted not ſo much that they worſhipt no God at all, but that they worſhipped ſo many, and none of them the true. Every great friend they had, every delight and pleaſure, every thing that was worth praying for, ſtraight proved their God, and had its ſpecial Temple erected for its Worſhip. So that do but imagine one of them every day worſhipping every God whom he acknowledged, in its ſeveral Oratory, ſpending his whole life, and that too little too, in running from one Temple to another, and you have deſcribed our licentious man poſting on perpetually to his ſenſual devotions, worſhipping, adoring, and ſacrificing every minute of his life, to ſome Idol-vanity, and beſtowing as much pains and charges in his prophane heatheniſh pleaſures, as ever the Gentiles did on their falſe gods, or the moſt ſupererogating Papiſt on their true.
Wigg. in Jam. ſecundae quaeſt. 1. Art. 5. p. 27, 28.We are wont to ſay in Divinity, and that without an Hyperbole, that every commiſſion of ſin is a kind of Idolatry, an incurvation, and bending down of the Soul to ſome Creature, which ſhould alwayes be erect looking up to Heaven, from whence it was infuſed, like water naturally inclined to climb and aſcend, as high as the Fountain, or Head from whence it ſprang. And then certainly a licentious life is a perpetual Idolatry, a ſupineneſs, and proneneſs, and incurvation of the Soul to ſomewhat that deſerves to be called an Idol, i. e. either in St. Pauls acceptation of it, nothing (an Idol is nothing, 1 Cor. viii.4.1 Cor. viii.4.) or elſe in the moſt honourable ſignification, only an Image, or ſome rude likeneſs or repreſentation of God. We are the Image of God our ſelves, and whatſoever is below us, is but an imperfect draught of him, containing ſome lineaments, ſome confuſed reſemblances of his power which created them, have no being of their own, but only as ſhadows which the light doth caſt. And therefore every love, every bowe, every cringe which we make to any Creature, is the wooing and worſhipping of an Image at beſt, in plain terms of an Idol, nothing. What degree then of Idolatry have they attained to, who every minute of their lives bowe down and worſhip, make it their trade and calling for ever to be a ſolliciting ſome pleaſure or other? Some exquiſite piece of ſenſuality to bleſs and make them happy, which have no other ſhrines to ſet up, but only to their own luſt, to which they do ſo crouch, and creep, and crawle, that they are never able to ſtand up right again: like thoſe Trees which the Papiſts talk of, which by bowing to our Ladies Houſe, when in walks by the Wood toward Loretto, have ever ſince ſtood ſtooping. Thus do you ſee how the latter part of my Text hath overtook the former: the walking after his own luſts, becomes a ſcoffer, the licentious man proceeded Atheiſt, and that with eaſe, his very voluptuous life is a kind of Atheiſm; and the reaſons of this are obvious, you need not ſeek or ſearch far for them.
For firſt, this walking in their own luſts, notes an habit gathered out of many acts: he hath walked there a long while, and therefore now hath the skill of it, walks on confidently, and careleſly, without any rub or thought of ſtopping. And contrary to this, the Worſhip of God, of which Atheiſm is a privation, is an holy, religious habit of Piety and Obedience. Now we know, two contrary habits cannot conſiſt or be together in the ſame ſubject. An habit, and its oppoſite, privation, are incompetible; light, and darkneſs at the ſame time, though they may ſeem to meet ſometimes, as in twilight: but for two oppoſite poſitive habits, never any mans conceit was ſo bold or phantaſtical as to join them: you cannot imagine one, but you muſt remove the other. You may ſuppoſe a man diſtempered or weak, which is a privation of health, and yet ſuppoſe him pretty healthy, as long as his natural ſtrength is able to overcome it; but can you ſuppoſe a man in a violent feaver actually upon him, and yet ſtill imagine him in perfect health? Thus is it with a Sinner, who hath given himſelf over to the tyranny, and impotency of his luſts, he hath utterly put off all degrees, all ſparks of any habit of Religion, according to that of our Saviour, You cannot ſerve God and Mammon, where Mammon ſignifying in a vaſt extent, the god of this World, imports all luſts, all earthly vanities, which any habituate Sinner deifies.
Secondly, Every habit notes a delight, an acquieſcence, and joy in enjoying of that, which through many actions, perhaps ſome brunts and rubs, he hath at laſt arrived to. Now this delight and contentation, that it may be complete, is impatient of any other incumbrance, which at any time may come in, to interrupt or diſorder it. If any thing ſo happen, 'tis never quiet, till it have removed it. The Scholar that hath all his life laboured, and at laſt attained to ſome habit of knowledge, and then reſolves to enjoy the happineſs and fruits of learning, in the quiet and reſt of a perpetual contemplation, is impatient if any piece of ignorance croſs or thwart him in his walk, hee'l to his Books again, and never reſt till he hath overcome and turned it out. Thus doth the ſenſual man, being come to the foreign, and pitch, and enter'd into the Paradiſe of his worldly joyes, if he do but meet with any jar, if he feel any pluck or twinge from his Conſcience, any grudge or compunction of the ſpirit within him, any ſpark or heat, or warmth of re…igious fear in his breaſt, hee'l never reſt till he hath abandoned it, he is impatient of ſuch a qualm of godlineſs, he muſt needs put it over, he is ſick at heart till he hath diſgorged himſelf of this choler, and then returns ſecurely godleſs to his walk, having baniſhed God out of all his thoughts. Thus ſhall you ſee the Atheiſt on his humour, for want of ſome compunction at home, grumble at every godly man or action which they ſaw in the ſtreet. In the ſecond of Wiſdom at the 14.Wiſd. 2.14▪ He is grievous unto us to behold, he was made to reprove our thoughts; and they do not return to their content, they are not pleaſed again, till they have gotten him into their inquiſition, to examine him with deſpightfulneſs and torture, ver. 19. Thus do they abhor and ſtifle, and ſtrangle every godly action in others, or motion in themſelves; becauſe the holineſs of the one, is an Exprobration to their prophaneneſs, and the other was a pang of Conſcience, made as it were on purpoſe by God to reprove their thoughts.
Thirdly, This walking in the Text, though it be with ſome motion, yet it is a ſlow one, a kind of walking in ones ſleep, or that of a Melancholy Man, that can walk till he be wet through, and not mark that it rained. I ſay, it notes here an heavy, drowſy, unactive habit, expreſt by the Pſalmiſt, by ſitting in a chair, as we ſhewed you: it notes a kind of churliſh reſoluteneſs, to walk on what ever come in his way; he is grown even a paſſive to his luſts, he doth not ſo much act as ſuffer them, he walks on ſnorting in his rode, do what you can, you ſhall neither turn nor wake him. Now this ſlow, drowſy, unactive habit, begets a kind of numneſs in him, a ſluggiſh, ſullen ſtupidity over all his faculties, that even a ſpur or goad cannot rouze him; all the pores as it were and paſſages, and entries to the Soul are ſo ſtopped, and bung'd up; all his affections are grown ſo groſs and brawny, ſo hardned and incraſſate, that no air or breath from Heaven can pierce it. He that tells him of Religion, or God, or Virtue, is as he that waketh one from a ſound ſleep: he that telleth ſuch a Fool a tale of Wiſdom, ſpeaketh to one in a ſlumber, and when he hath told his tale, he will ſay, What is the matter? Ecclus. xxii.8. Thus do you ſee, 1. The repugnance and inconſiſtence of a voluptuous life, and Religion. 2. The delight. 3. The ſtupidity of this habit. Each of which have made a place for the Libertine, and ſet him in the Chair of the ſcorner. And all this while methinks I have but talkt to your Ears: Now that your hearts and affections may pertake of the ſound, that the ſofter waxy part of you, may receive ſome impreſſion from this Diſcourſe, let us cloſe all with an Application.
And firſt, from the guilt and dangerous condition of a licentious life, to labour by all means poſſible to keep out of it. He that is once engaged in it, goes on with a great deal of content, and in the midſt of his pleaſures on the one ſide, and carnal ſecurity on the other, his Ʋnderſtanding, and Will, and Senſes are lull'd into a Lethargy; nay, the very phancy in him is aſleep, which in other ſleeps, is moſt active: he never imagines, never dreams of any fear, or danger, either God, or Devil. O what a lamentable woful eſtate is it, to be thus ſick beyond a ſenſe of our Diſeaſe, to be ſo near a ſpiritual death, and not ſo much as feel our weakneſs! Oh what an horrid thing it were, to paſs away in ſuch a ſleep, and never obſerve our ſelves near death, till Satan hath arreſted beyond bail; to ſleep on and ſnort, as men without dread or danger, till the torments of Hell ſhould awake us! You cannot imagine how eaſy a thing it is, for an habituate Sinner to fall into the Devils paws, before he thinks of it; as a melancholy man walking in the dark, may be drowned in a Pit, and no man hear him complain that he is faln.
Again, we are wont to ſay, that cuſtom is another nature, and thoſe things which we have brought our ſelves up to, we can as ill put off, as our conſtitution, or diſpoſition. Now thoſe things which ſpring from the nature of any thing, are inſeparable from the ſubject; baniſh them as oft as you will, uſque recurrent, they will return again as to their home, they cannot ſubſiſt any where elſe, they dwell there. So wallowing in the mire, being a condition natural to the ſwine, can never be extorted from them: waſh them, rinſe them, purge them with Hyſſop; as ſoon as ever they meet with mire again, they will into it. Their Swiniſh nature hath ſuch an influence on them, that all care or art cannot forbid, or hinder this effect of it. So that a cuſtomary Sinner, who hath as it were, made luſt a part of his nature, hath incorporated prophaneneſs, and grafted it into his affections, can as hardly be rid of it, as a ſubject of his property; 'tis poſſible for fear, or want of opportunity ſometime to keep him in, and make him abſtain: the load-ſtone may…ly quiet, whilſt no iron is within ken, or it may be held by force in its preſence; but give it materials and leave to work, and it draws incontinently. So for all his temporary forbearance, upon ſome either policy or neceſſity, the habituate ſinner hath not yet given over his habit. Leave him to himſelf, give him room and opportunity, and he will hold no longer. If he be once advanced to this pitch of ſin, to be walking after his own luſts, he may poſſibly be driven back with a ſtorm, or thunder: but he will hardly give over his walk, hee'l forward again, as ſoon as ever the tempeſt is over. Nay farther, even when he wants objects and opportunities, he will yet ſhew his condition, he will betray the deſire and good affection he bears to his old luſts; his diſcourſe or faſhions argue him incontinently bent, even when he is at the ſtancheſt. As Ariſtotle obſerves of the fearful man, that even when no formidable object is near, he falls into many frights: ſo the voluptuous mans phancy is perpetually poſſeſt with the meditation of his own wayes, when ſome diſeaſe or neceſſity will not let him walk. In brief, unleſs this ſecond nature be quite taken out of him, and another holy ſpiritual nature created in its room; unleſs a ſtronger come and bind this Devil, and diſpoſſeſs him of it; he hath ſmall hopes of getting himſelf out of his Dominion, and Tyranny: there is a great deal more ſtir in the converting of one cuſtomary Sinner, than of a thouſand others; 'tis not to be accompliſhed without a kind of Death, and Reſurrection, without a new Creation of another nature. So that (if we ſhould judge of Gods actions by our own) the ſpirit ſhould ſeem to be put to more pains and trouble with this one habituate, than in the ordinary buſineſs of converting many a tamer Sinner. This is enough, by the deſperateneſs of the cure, to move you to ſtudy ſome art, ſome phyſick of prevention; leſt when it is grown upon you, it be too late to enquire for remedies. How ſhould we dare to entertain and naturalize ſuch an evil ſpirit within us, which if ever he be raviſht out of us again, cannot without tearing, and torturing, and rending even our whole nature in pieces? If we muſt needs be ſinful, yet let us keep within a moderation, let us not ſo follow the Devils works, as to tranſubſtantiate our ſelves into his nature; let us not put off our manhood, with our integrity, and though we cannot be Saints, let us keep our ſelves men? 'Tis a degree of innocence, not to be extremely wicked, and a piece of godlineſs, not to be Atheiſts. Our luſt is an infinite thing, ſaid a Philoſopher, (foreign, Jambl.) and he that walks after it, hath an endleſs journey: there is no hope that he that hath ſo far to go, will ever have leiſure to ſit ſtill. And therefore I ſay, if we muſt needs ſin, yet let us not engage our ſelves to ſin for ever: if our being men, lays a neceſſity of ſinning on us; let our care to ſtay whilſt it is poſſible for us, prove that we do not ſin like …evils, whoſe ſin is their glory, and their reſolution peremptory, never to give over ſinning; and ſo may ours ſeem, and in all likelihood prove to be, if we give our ſelves liberty to walk after our own luſts.
Secondly, If our luſts be ſuch dangerous paths to walk in, and this, in that very reſpect, as they are our own, in oppoſition to Gods commands; if they are the ſtraight direct way to Atheiſm, nay Atheiſm it ſelf: then, what care and circumſpection is required at every ſetting down of our feet, at every entrance on any action, leſt there be a Serpent in the way, ſome piece of prophaneneſs in every enterprize we enter on of our ſelves? How ought we to fear, to ſuſpect, and balk any way that is our own? For where it is Atheiſm to walk, there ſurely 'tis a ſin to tread: and where we have once ventured to tread, we ſhall be ſhrewdly tempted to walk; every ſtep we have ſafely taken, being an encouragement to a ſecond. Verebar omnia opera mea, ſaith Job, I feared all my works: whatever action I could entitle my ſelf to, methought there was ſome danger in it; I was afraid it was not right as it ſhould be, I ſhould never be able to juſtify it. This is an excellent tryal of all our ſerious deliberate actions, to mark whether they are our own or no, whether we went about them on our own heads, without our warrant or directions from God: if we did, 'tis much to be doubted there is ſome poyſon, ſome guilt in them, ſome thing that deſerves to be feared, and fled from. This very ſuſpecting of our own wayes, will aliene us from our own luſts, will bend us nearer to God, and never ſuffer us to dare to venture where he hath not ſecured us; will join us as it were in an Engine to God himſelf, where the lower Wheels never begin to move without the example and government of the higher. If you can but perſwade your ſelf to fear your own wayes, 'twill be a good ſtop of your progreſs to Atheiſm. I am confident the Devil will never get you to walk in your own luſts.
Thirdly, If walking in our own luſts be direct Atheiſm, what ſhall we think of them who make it a piece of Religion, and holy policy to do ſo? Beloved, there be ſome learned Catechiſed Atheiſts, who upon confidence of an abſolute eternal predeſtination of every man in the World, that ſhall ever poſſibly be ſaved, ſet up their reſt there, and expect what God will do with them. 'Tis to no purpoſe to hope God will alter the decree; they are reſolved to leave all to God, and if they periſh, they periſh. Mark with me, is not this a Religious Atheiſm, to attribute ſo much to God as to become careleſs of him; ſo to depend as never to think on him, and by granting his Decree in our underſtanding, to deny his Godhead in our converſation? He that lives negligently, on confidence that his care may be ſpared, that if there be any ſalvation for him, God will work it out without his fear or trembling: he that believes Gods election ſo abſolute, that himſelf hath nothing to do in the buſineſs; whilſt he expects mercy, makes himſelf uncapable of it; and though he acknowledge a reſurrection, lives as though he looked to be annihilated. Certainly he that expects, God ſhould ſend him a fruitful harveſt, will himſelf manure the ground; he that hopes, will labour, according to that, 1 Joh. iii.3. He that hath this hope in him, purifies himſelf, &c. So that whoſoever relies on God for Salvation, and in the midſt of his hopes ſtands idle, and walks after his own luſts; by his very actions confutes his thoughts, and will not in a manner ſuffer God to have elected him, by going on in ſuch reprobate courſes.
Laſtly, If it be this confident walking after our own luſts, which is here the expreſſion of Atheiſm, then here's a comfort for ſome fearful Sinners, who finding themſelves not yet taken up quite from a licentious life, ſuſpect, and would be in danger to deſpair of themſelves, as Atheiſts. 'Tis a bleſſed tenderneſs to feel every ſin in our ſelves at the greateſt advantage; to aggravate and repreſent it to our Conſcience in the horridſt ſhape; but there is a care alſo to be had, that we give not our ſelves over as deſperate; Cain ly'd when he ſaid, his ſin was greater than could be either born or forgiven. When the Phyſicians have given one over,Philop. 1. de an. foreign, nature hath its ſpring and plunge, and ſometimes quits and overcomes the diſeaſe. If thou art in this dangerous walk, and ſtriveſt and heaveſt, and canſt not get out of it, yet ſorrow not as one without hope: this very regret and reluctancy, this ſtriving and plunging, is a good ſymptome. If thou wilt continue with a good courage, and ſet thy ſelf to it to the purpoſe, be confident thou ſhalt overcome the difficulty. If this ſin be a walking, then every ſtop is a ceſſation, every check a degree to integrity, every godly thought or deſire a pawn from God that he will give thee ſtrength to victory: and if thou do but nouriſh and cheriſh every ſuch reluctancy, every ſuch gracious motion in thy ſelf, thou maiſt with courage expect a gracious calm deliverance out of theſe ſtorms and tempeſts. And let us all labour, and endeavour, and pray that we may be looſed from theſe toyls and gins, and engagements of our own luſts, and being entred into a more religious ſevere courſe here, than the Atheiſm of our wayes would counſel us to, we may obtain the end, and reſt, and conſummation, and reward of our Courſe hereafter.
Now to him which hath elected us, &c.
SERMON XVIII.
1 TIM. I.15.
Of whom I am the chief.
THE chief buſineſs of our Apoſtle S. Paul in all his Epiſtles is, what the main of every Preacher ought to be, Exhortation. There is not one doctrinal point, but contains a precept to our underſtanding to believe it; nor moral Diſcourſe, but effectually implies an admoniſhment to our Wills to practiſe it. Now theſe Exhortations are propoſed either vulgarly in the downright garb of Precept, as,1 Tim. iv.11. Theſe things command and teach, &c. or in a more artificial, obſcure, enforcing way of Rhetorick, as,Gal. vi.14. God forbid that I ſhould glory, ſave in the croſs of Chriſt, whereby the world is crucified to me, and I unto the world; which though in words it ſeems a proteſtation of St. Pauls own reſolution, yet in effect is a moſt powerful exhortatory to every ſucceeding Chriſtian, to glory only in the Croſs of Chriſt, and on it to crucifie both the World and himſelf. This method of reducing S. Paul to Exhortation, I obſerve to you for the clearing of my Text. For this whole Verſe at the firſt view ſeems only a mere Theſis or point of belief, that Chriſt came into the World to ſave Sinners, illuſtrated and applied by the Speaker as one, and the chief of the number of thoſe Sinners to be ſaved. But it contains a moſt Rhetorical powerful Exhortation to both Ʋnderſtanding and Will; to believe this faithful ſaying, That Chriſt came, &c. and to accept, lay hold of, and with all our might to embrace and apply to each of our ſelves this great mercy, toward this great Salvation beſtowed on Sinners, who can with humility confeſs their ſins, and with Faith lay hold on the promiſe. And this is the buſineſs of the Verſe, and the plain matter of this obſcure double Exhortation, to every mans Ʋnderſtanding, that he believe that Chriſt, &c. to every mans affections, that he humble himſelf, and teach his heart, and that, his tongue to confeſs, Of all Sinners, &c. This Text ſhall not be divided into parts (which were to diſorder and diſtract the ſignificancy of a propoſition) but into ſeveral conſiderations; for ſo it is to be conceived either abſolutely as a profeſſion of S. Paul of himſelf, and there we will enquire, whether, and how Paul was the chief of all Sinners. Secondly, reſpectively to us, for whom this form of confeſſing the ſtate, and applying the Salvation of Sinners to our ſelves, is ſet down.
And firſt, whether, and how Paul was the chief of all Sinners; where we are to read him in a double eſtate, converted and unconverted, expreſt to us by his double name, Paul and Saul, Paul an Apoſtle of Jeſus Chriſt, Saul a Perſecutor, mad againſt the Chriſtians; and that both theſe eſtates may be contained in the Text, although penn'd by Paul regenerated, may appear, in that the Pronoun foreign, I, ſignifying the whole complete perſon of Paul, reſtrains not the ſpeech to his preſent being only, but conſiders alſo what he had been; more eſpecially ſet down at the thirteenth Verſe, Who was before a blaſphemer, &c. So then, Paul in his Saul-ſhip being a Blaſphemer, a Perſecutor and injurious, and in ſumm, a moſt violent, perverſe, malicious Unbeliever, was a chief Sinner, rankt in the Front of the Devil's Army; and this needs no further proof or illuſtration. Yet ſeeing that that Age of the World had brought forth many other of the ſame ſtrain of violent Unbelief, nothing inferiour to Saul, as may appear by thoſe many that were guilty of Chriſts Death (as Saul in perſon was not) and thoſe that ſo madly ſtoned S. Stephen, whilſt Saul only kept the witneſſes clothes, Acts vii.58.and as the Text ſpeaks, was conſenting unto his death; ſeeing, I ſay, that others of that Age equalled, if not exceeded Sauls guilt, how can he be ſaid above all other Sinners to be the chief. I think we ſhall no… wreſt or inlarge the Text beſide or beyond the meaning of the Holy Ghoſt or Apoſtle, if in anſwer unto this, we ſay, that here is intended, not ſo much the greatneſs of his ſins above all Sinners in the World, but the greatneſs of the miracle in converting ſo great a Sinner into ſo great a Saint and Apoſtle. So that the words ſhall run, Of all Sinners that Chriſt came into the World to ſave, and then prefer to ſuch an eminence, I am the chief, or as the word primarily ſignifies, foreign, I am the firſt, i. e. Paul was the chief of all Converts, and Paul was the firſt, that from ſo great a Perſecutor of Chriſt was changed into ſo great, ſo glorious an Apoſtle. For ſo it follows in the Verſes next after my Text, For this cauſe I obtained mercy, that in me firſt Chriſt Jeſus might ſhew forth all long ſuffering, &c. The iſſue of all is this, that Saul unconverted was a very great Sinner, yet not the greateſt of Sinners abſolutely, but for ought we read in the New Teſtament, the greateſt and firſt that was called from ſuch a degree of infidelity, a Blaſphemer, a Perſecuter, to ſo high a pitch of Salvation, a Saint, an Apoſtle, yea, and greater than an Apoſtle; whence the obſervation is, that though Saul were, yet every blaſphemous Sinner cannot expect to be called from the depth of ſin to regeneracy and Salvation. Although Saul being foreign, the chief of ſinners, was called and ſaved; yet Saul was alſo in another ſenſe, for ought we read foreign, and perhaps the laſt that from ſo great a riot of ſin obtained ſo great Salvation. Wherefore, O Sinner, be not preſumptuous from Pauls Example, but from Pauls ſingle Example, begin to ſuſpect thy ſtate, and fear that ſuch a miracle of Salvation ſhall not be afforded thee. There hath been an opinion of late reviv'd, perhaps original among the Romans, that the greateſt Sinner is the more likely object of Gods mercy, or ſubject of his grace, than the mere moral man, whom either natural fear, or the like, not ſpiritual reſpects, hath reſtrained from thoſe outrages of ſin. The being of this opinion in the primitive Romans, and the falſeneſs of it, is ſufficient…y prov'd by that expo…ulation of St. Paul, Shall we continue in ſin, Rom. vi.1.that grace may abound? God forbid. In anſwer to ſome, who, hearing that Chriſt came into the world to ſave ſinners, thought that the exceſs of ſin was the beſt qualification, and only motive, to provoke and deſerve a more abundant grace and certain ſalvation. As if that ſpirit, which once to manifeſt its power, called Saul in the midſt of his madneſs, breathing out threatnings and ſlaughters againſt the Church, would not call any but thoſe who had prepared themſelves by the ſame degree of madneſs, but required that men ſhould make themſelves almoſt Devils, that they might be called into Chriſtians; as if that God, which could out of ſtones, could not alſo out of men, John xi.39.raiſe up Children unto Abraham; as if that Chriſt which raiſed up Lazarus, being dead four dayes, and as they thought ſtinking in his grave, could not as eaſily have heal'd him whilſt he was yet alive: whereas we read, that Chriſt dealt more on the cures of the impotent, than reſurrections of the dead; that is, in a ſpiritual application, heal'd more from the Bed of languiſhment, of their weakneſſes and diſeaſes, than he raiſed out of the graves of treſpaſſes and ſins; though ſome alſo hath he out of death quickned, to exalt the power and miracle of his mercy. Yet hath not this doctrine too, been moſt confidently maintained among ſome of our times? That there is more hope of the debauch'd man, that he ſhall be called or ſaved, than of the mere moral, honeſt man, who y… is in the ſtate of unregeneracy. Have not ſome men, defining this moral man by the formal hypocrite, ſet him in the greateſt oppoſition to Heaven? As if that degree of innocence, or rather, not being extremely ſinful, which a moral care of our ways may beſtow on us, were a greater hindrance than promotion toward the ſtate of grace, and the natural man were ſo much the further from God, the nearer he were to goodneſs, and no man could hope to come to Heaven, but he that had knockt at Hell-gates. I confeſs indeed, that the Holy Ghoſt where he means to inhabit, hath no need of pains to prepare him a room, but can at his firſt knock, open and cleanſe, adorn and beautify the moſt uncouth, ugly, and unſavory heart in the World. That omnipotent convincing ſpirit can at the ſame inſtant ſtrike the moſt obdurate heart, and ſoften it, and where it once enters, cannot be repuls'd by the moſt ſturdy habituate ſin, or Devil. I confeſs likewiſe, that ſome have been thus rather ſnatch'd than call'd, like the fire-brands out of the fire, and by an ecſtaſy of the ſpirit inwardly in a minute chang'd from incarnate Devils into incarnate Saints. So was Mary diſpoſſeſt of ſeven Devils, who was after ſo highly promoted in Chriſts favour, that ſhe had the honour to be the firſt witneſs of the Reſurrection.Mark xvi.9. So that Gadarene who had intrencht and fortified himſelf among the Tombs, and was garriſon'd with an Army of Devils, ſo that he brake Fetters and Chains, and could not be tam'd or kept in any compaſs, yet in a minute at Chriſts word, ſent forth a Legion of Fiends, ſufficient to people and deſtroy a Colony of Swine. And ſo was Paul in my Text, in a minute at Chriſts Call, delivered of a multitude of blaſphemous malicious ſpirits, and ſtraight became the joy of Angels, the Apoſtle of the Gentiles. Yet mean time, theſe miraculous, but rarer Examples muſt not preſcribe and ſet up, muſt not become a rule, and encourage any one to Sauls madneſs, on confidence of Pauls Converſion, to a more impetuous courſe of ſinning, that he may become a more glorious Saint. 'Tis a wrong way to Heaven, to dig into the deep, and a brutiſh arrogance to hope, that God will the more eagerly woo us, the further our ſins have divorc't us from him. If ſome (as hath been ſaid) have been caught or ſtrucken in the height of their Rebellions, or in the fulneſs of the evil ſpirit called to a wane (as Diſeaſes in the foreign, or top-pitch, are wont to decay and weaken into health again) if there have been ſome of theſe, as my Apoſtle, rais'd from the depth of ſin, as Lazarus from the ſtench of the grave, yet theſe in reſpect of others more ſoftly and ordinarily called, are found few in number; and ſuch as were appointed for the Miracles, as well as the objects of Gods mercy. Hence it is, that a ſtrange diſorder hath moſt times accompanied this extraordinary converſion of more violent outragious Sinners. Our Apoſtle (to go no farther) was to be caſt into a trance, and his regeneration not to be accompliſht without a kind of Death and Reſurrection; whereas others who are better morally qualified, or rather are leſs hardned in the ſins of unregeneracy, do anſwer at the ſofteſt knock or whiſpering'ſt call of the Spirit, and at his becken will come after him. More might be ſaid of this point, how St. Paul was moſt notably converted; that he had the alleviation of ignorance, for which cauſe (as he ſays himſelf) he found mercy; and that others are not probably to expect the like miracle, who have not thoſe inſuperable prepoſſeſſions from cuſtom and religion; but that this is not the buſineſs of the Text, but a praecognoſcendum or paſſage to the clearing of it. Briefly therefore to conclude this note, Paul is the chief example mentioned in Scripture, and there be not many, though ſome more, that were called from the height of impiety, from the gall of bitterneſs, to this myſtical third Heaven, or ſo high degree of Saint and Apoſtle. The more ordinary courſe of Gods proceeding (if we may poſſibly judge of the Decree by events and examples) is to call ſuch to the ſtate of grace, and ſo conſequently of glory, who have paſſed their unregeneracy moſt innocently, and kept themſelves leaſt polluted from the ſtains of habituate wickedneſs, that is, have lived as much as natural men can do, in the plaineſt, honeſteſt courſe of morality, it being preſuppoſed that among all other moral vertues they have purchaſed humility, the beſt (if there be any preparative) for the receiving of grace. Mean while we are not to be miſtaken, as if we thought Gods purpoſes tyed to mans good behaviour, or mans moral goodneſs to woo and allure Gods ſpirit, as that the Almighty is not equally able to ſanctify the fouleſt Soul by his converting grace, and the leſs polluted, or that he requires mans preparation: but our poſition is, that in ordinary charitable reaſon we ought to judge more comfortably, and hope more confidently of a meer moral man naturally more careful of his ways, that he ſhall be both called and ſaved, that God will with his ſpirit perfect and crown his morally good, though imperfect endeavours, than of another more debauch't Sinner, utterly negligent of the commands of either God or nature. Which poſition I have in brief proved, though nothing ſo largely as I might, in confutation of them who do utterly condemn unregenerate morality, and deject it below the loweſt degree of prophaneneſs, as if they would teach a man his way to Heaven, by boaſting arrogantly, what Paul converted confeſſes humbly ▪ I am the nearer to Chriſts Salvation, becauſe of all ſinners I am the chief. The Ʋſe in brief of this Theſis, ſhall be for thoſe, who not as yet find the power of the regenerating ſpirit in them (for I am to fear, many of my auditors may be in this caſe, and I pray God they feel, and work, and pray themſelves out of it) the Uſe, I ſay, is for thoſe who are not yet full poſſeſſors of the ſpirit, to labour to keep their unregeneracy ſpotleſs from the greater offence, that if they are not yet called to the preferment of Conv…rts and Saints, the ſecond part of Heaven, that Earthly City of God; that yet they will live orderly in that lower Regiment, wherein they yet remain, and be ſubject to the law of nature, till it ſhall pleaſe God to take them into a new Common-wealth, under the law of grace; to improve their natural abilities to the height, and bind their hands and hearts from the practice and ſtudy of outragious ſins, by thoſe ordinary reſtraints which nature will afford us; ſuch as are a good diſpoſition, education, and the like; not to leave and refer all to the miraculous working of God, and to encreaſe our ſins for the magnifying of the vertue in recalling us. God requires not this glory at our hands, that we ſhould peremptorily over-damn our ſelves, that he may be the more honoured in ſaving us. His mercy is more known to the World, than to need this woful foil to illuſtrate it. God is not wont to rake Hell for Converts, to gather Devils to make Saints of; the Kingdom of Heaven would ſuffer great violence, if only ſuch ſhould take it.Acts xxiii.1. If Saul were infinitely ſinful before he proved an Apoſtle, (though by the way, we hear him profeſs, he had lived in all good Conſcience;) yet expect not thou the ſame Miracle, nor think that the exceſs of ſins is the cue that God ordinarily takes to convert us. The Fathers in an obedience to the diſcipline and pedagogy of the old Law, poſſeſt their Souls in patience, expecting the propheſied approach of the new, did not by a contempt of Moſes, precipitate and haſten the coming of the Meſſias. Cornclius liv'd a long while devoutly, and gave much alms, till at laſt God call'd him,Acts x.1. and put him in a courſe to become a Chriſtian: and do thou, if thou art not yet called, wait the Lords leiſure in a ſober moral converſation, and fright not him from thee with unnatural abominations. God is not likely to be woed by thoſe courſes which nature loaths, or to accept them, whom the World is aſhamed of. In brief, remember Saul and Cornelius; Saul, that he, not many, were called from a profeſt Blaſphemer; Cornelius, that before he was called, he prayed to God alway: and do thou endeavour to deſerve the like mercy, and then in thy Prayer confeſs thine undeſerving, and petition grace, as grace, that is, not as our merit, but as his free-will favour, not as the deſert of our morality, but a ſtream from the bounty of his mercy, who (we may hope) will crown his common graces with the fulneſs of his ſpirit. And now, O powerful God, on thoſe of us which are yet unregenerate, beſtow thy reſtraining grace, which may curb and ſtop our natural inordinacy, and by a ſober, careful, continent life, prepare us to a better capability of thy ſanctifying ſpirit, wherewith in good time thou ſhalt eſtabliſh and ſeal us up to the day of redemption. And thus much concerning Saul unconverted, how of all Sinners he was the chief, not abſolutely, that he ſurpaſſed the whole World in rankneſs of ſin; but reſpectively to his later ſtate, that few or none are read to have been tranſlated from ſuch a pitch of ſin to Saint-ſhip. Now follows the ſecond conſideration of him being proceeded Paul, i. e. converted, and then the queſtion is, Whether, and how Paul converted, may be ſaid the chief of all Sinners.
'Twere too ſpeculative a depth for a popular Sermon, to diſcuſs the inherence and condition of ſin in the regenerate; the buſineſs will be brought home more profitably to our practice, if we drive it to this iſſue, That Paul in this place intending by his own example to direct others how to believe the truth, and embrace, and faſten on the efficacy of Chriſts Incarnation, hath no better motive to incite himſelf and others toward it, than a recognition of his ſins, that is, a ſurvey of the power of ſin in him before, and a ſenſe of the relicks of ſin in him ſince his Converſion. Whence the note is, That the greatneſs of ones ſins, makes the regenerate man apply himſelf more fiercely to Chriſt. This faithful ſaying was therefore to Paul worthy of all acceptation, becauſe of all Sinners he was the chief. S. Paul, as every regenerate man, is to be obſerved in a treble poſture, either caſting his Eyes backward, or calling them in upon himſelf, or elſe looking forward and aloof; and accordingly is to be conceived in a treb…e meditation, either of his life paſt, or preſent ſtate, or future hopes. In the firſt poſture and meditation, you may ſee, firſt Paul alone, who was before a Blaſphemer, a Perſecuter and injurious; ſecondly, all the regenerate together: For when we were in the fleſh the motions of ſin did work in our members, &c. and many the like. In the ſecond poſture and meditation, you may obſerve him retracting an error, Acts xxiii.Acts xxiii. deprecating a temptation with earneſt and repeated interceſſions, 2 Cor. xii.7.2 Cor. xii.7. fighting with and harraſing himſelf, beating down his body, and keeping it in ſubjection, leſt while he preacht to others, he himſelf might be a caſt-away, 1 Cor. ix.27,1 Cor. ix.27. &c In the third poſture we find him, Rom. vii.25. where after a long diſguiſe he cries out, I thank God through Jeſus Chriſt our Lord. And again, Phil. iii.13.Phil. iii.13. moſt evidently, Forgetting thoſe things that are behind, and reaching out to thoſe things which are before, I preſs toward the mark, &c. like a racer in the heat of his courſe, whoſe Eyes deſire to anticipate his feet, and enjoy the goa… before he reach it. Theſe three carriages of the regenerate man fully prove our obſervation: for if either of the two former ſights could afford him any content; if either his former or preſent ſtate did not ſufficiently terrify him, he would not be ſo eager on the third, it being the folly of humane pride and ſelf-love, to contemn any foreign aid, as long as it finds either appearance or hope of domeſtick. If in the view of his former life he ſhould find any thing either good or not extremely bad and ſinful, he would under-prize the mercy of that Saviour, that redeem'd him from ſo poor a guilt; if he could obſerve in his preſent ſtate any natural firmneſs or ſtability, any inherent purity, any eſſential juſtice, he might poſſibly ſacrifice to his own nets, and reckoning himſelf in perfect peace with God, neither invoke and ſeek, nor acknowledge a Mediatour. But when in his former life he ſhall find nothing but the matter and cauſe of horrour and amazement, nothing but hideous ghaſtly affrightments, yea, and a body of damnation: when in hope to mend himſelf,2 Cor. 12.7. and eaſe his fears, he ſhall fly to the comfort of his preſent converted ſtate, and yet there alſo eſpy many thorns of temptations, how can he but be frighted out of himſelf? How can he but fly from the ſcene of thoſe his torments, and ſeek out and importune the mercy of a Saviour, which may deliver him out of all his fears? after the example of our Apoſtle in my Text, where he does more peremptorily apprehend Chriſt, and more bodily believe, That he came into the world to ſave ſinners, becauſe of all ſinners he was chief, making his own ſinfulneſs (being the object and external motive of Gods mercy) an argument and internal motive of his own Faith and confidence. The plain meaning of this Theſis is, that among men, things are not alway valued according to the merit of their nature, for then each commodity ſhould be equally prized by all men, and the man in health ſhould beſtow as much charges on phyſick as the diſeaſed: but each thing bears its ſeveral eſtimation by its uſefulneſs, and the riches of every merchandize is encreaſed accordingly as men to whom it is proffered, do either uſe or want it. Moreover, this uſefulneſs is not to be reckoned of according to truth, but opinion, not according to mens real wants, but according to the ſenſe which they have of their wants; ſo a man diſtracted, becauſe he hath not ſo much reaſon about him as to obſerve his Diſeaſe, will contemn Hellebore, or any other the moſt precious Recipe for this Cure: and generally, no man will haſten to the Phyſician, or juſtly value his art and drugs, but he whom miſery hath taught the uſe of them. So then, unleſs a man have been in ſome ſpiritual danger, and by the converting ſpirit be inſtructed into a ſenſe and apprehenſion of it, he will not ſufficiently obſerve the benefit and uſe of a deliverer: unleſs he feel in himſelf ſome ſtings of the relicks of his ſin, ſome pricks of the remaining Amorit…, he will not take notice of the want and neceſſity which he hath of Chriſts mediation. But when he ſhall with a tenderneſs of memory ſurvey the guilt of his former ſtate, from the imputation, not importunity whereof, he is now juſtified; when he ſhall ſtill feel within him the buffetings of Satan, and ſenſibly obſerve himſelf not fully ſanctified, then, and not before, will he with a zealous earneſtneſs apprehend the profit, yea, neceſſity of a Saviour, whoſe aſſiſtance ſo nearly concerns him. The ſecond ground of this poſition is, That an extraordinary undeſerved deliverance is by an afflicted man received with ſome ſuſpicion: the conſideration of the greatneſs of the benefit, makes him doubt of the truth of it, and he will ſcarce believe ſo important an happineſs befaln him, becauſe his miſery could neither expect nor hope it. Hence, upon the firſt notice of it, he deſires to aſcertain it unto his ſenſe, by a ſudden poſſeſſion of it, and not at all to defer the enjoying of that mercy, which his former miſery made infinitely worthy of all acceptation. Thus may you ſee a ſhip-wrackt man, recovered to ſome refuge, cling about, and almoſt incorporate himſelf unto it, becauſe the fortune of his life depends on that ſuccour. The new regenerate man finding in the Scripture the promiſe of a Redeemer, which ſhall free him from thoſe engagements, which his former bankrupt eſtate had plung'd him in, cannot delay ſo great an happineſs, but with a kind of tender fear and filial trembling runs,Mat. xx.4. and ſtrives (as the Diſciples to the Sepulchre) to aſſure his neceſſitous Soul of this acceptable ſalvation: even ſets upon his Saviour with a kind of violence, and will ſeem to diſtruſt his promiſe, till his ſeal ſhall authorize and confirm it. Thus did the greatneſs of the work of the unexpected reſurrection, Joh. xx.25.beget in Thomas a ſuſpicion and incredulity, I will not believe, &c. where our charity may conjecture, that he above all the reſt, was not abſolutely reſolved not to believe the Reſurrection, but that he being abſent at the firſt apparition, would not take ſo important a miracle upon truſt, but deſired to have that demonſtrated to his ſenſe, which did ſo nearly concern his faith; that ſo by putting his finger into the print of the nails, and thruſting his hand into his ſide, he might almoſt conſubſtantiate and unite himſelf unto his Saviour, and at once be aſſured of the truth, and partake of the profit of the Reſurrection. Hear but the voice of the Spouſe, and any further proofs ſhall be ſuperfluous, where, in violence and jealouſie of love, ſhe importunes the Eternal preſence of the beloved,Cant. viii.6. Set me as a ſeal upon thy heart, as a ſeal upon thine arm, for love is ſtrong as death, jealouſie as cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire which hath a vehement flame. She had before often loſt her beloved, which made her ſo fiercely faſten on him, for having rouſed him, ruit in amplexus, Cant. iii.4.ſhe ruſht into his embraces, ſhe held him and would not let him go. Thus you ſee the jealouſie and eagerneſs of love produc'd by either a former loſs, or preſent more than ordinary want of the object; both which how pertinent they are to the regenerate man, either obſerving his paſt ſins, or inſtant temptations, this Diſcourſe hath already made manifeſt.
The Ʋſe of this Theſis (to wit, that the greatneſs of ones ſins makes the regenerate man apply himſelf more fiercely to Chriſt) is firſt by way of caution, that we miſtake not a motive for an efficient, an impulſive for a principal cauſe. For where we ſay, It makes him apply himſelf, &c.] we mean not that the encreaſe of ſin produces faith formally, but only inciteth to believe by way of inſtruction, by ſhewing us what diſtreſs we are in, and conſequently, in what a neceſſity of a deliverer. The meditation of our ſinful courſes may diſcloſe our miſery, not redreſs it; may explore, not mend a Sinner, like a touchſtone to try, not any way to alter him. It is the controuling ſpirit which muſt effectually renew our ſpirits, and lead us to the Chriſt, which our ſins told us we had need of. The ſenſe of ſin may rouze the Soul, but it is the ſpirit of God that lays the toils; the feeling of our guilt may beat the Waters, but it is the great Fiſher of our Souls which ſpreads the Net, which entraps us as we are in our way to Hell, and leads us captive to ſalvation. The mere gripings of our Conſcience being not produced by any Pharmacon of the ſpirit, but by ſome diſtemper ariſing from ſin, what anxiety doth it cauſe within us? What pangs and twinges to the Soul? O Lord, do thou regenerate us, and then, thy holy ſpirit ſhall ſanctifie even our ſins unto our good; and if thy grace may lead us, our ſins ſhall purſue and drive us unto Chriſt. Secondly, By way of character, how to diſtinguiſh a true convert from a falſe. A man which from an inveterate deſperate malady ſhall meet with a miraculous unexpected cure, will naturally have ſome art of expreſſion above an ordinary joy; you ſhall ſee him in an ecſtaſie of thankſgiving and exultancy, whilſt another, which was never in that diſtreſs, quietly enjoys the ſame health, and gives thanks ſoftly by himſelf to his preſerver. So is it in the diſtreſſes of the Soul, which if they have been exceſſive, and almoſt beyond hope of recovery; as the miracle muſt, ſo will the expreſſion of this deliverance be ſomewhat extraordinary. The Soul which from a good moral or leſs ſinful natural eſtate, is magis immutata quam genita, rather chang'd than regenerate into a ſpiritual, goes through this buſineſs without any great noiſe, the ſpirit entring into it in a ſtill ſmall voice, or at a breathing: Jo. xx.….but when a robuſtous obdurate Sinner ſhall be rather apprehended than called, when the Sea ſhall be commanded to give up his ſhip-wrack't, and the Sepulchre to reſtore her dead, the Soul ſurely which thus eſcapeth, ſhall not be content with a mean expreſſion, but will practiſe all the Hallelujahs and Magnificats, which the triumphant Liturgies of the Saints can afford it. Wherefore, I ſay, if any one out of a full violent courſe of ſinning conceive himſelf converted and regenerated, let him examine what a degree of ſpiritual exultancy he hath attained to, and if he find it but mean, and flight, and perfunctory, let him ſomewhat ſuſpect, that he may the more confirm the evidence of his calling. Now this ſpiritual exultancy of the regenerate, conſiſts both in a ſolemn humiliation of himſelf, and a ſpiritual rejoycing in God his Saviour; both expreſt in Maries Magnificat, where ſhe ſpecifies in the midſt of her joy the lowlineſs of his handmaid, and in S. Pauls victory-ſong over Death. So that if the converſion of an inordinate Sinner be not accompanied with unwonted joy and ſorrow, with a godly ſenſe of his paſt diſtreſs, and a godly triumph for his delivery; if it be not followed with a violent eagerneſs to faſten on Chriſt; finally, if there be not ſomewhat above ordinary in the expreſſion, then I counſel not to diſtruſt, but fear, that is, with a ſollicitous, not ſuſpicious trembling, to labour to make thy calling and election ſure; to pray to that Holy Spirit to ſtrike our hearts with a meaſure of holy joy and holy ſorrow, ſome way proportionable to the ſize of thoſe ſins, which in our unregeneracy reigned in us; and for thoſe of us whom our ſins have ſeparated far from him, but his grace hath called home to him, that he will not ſuffer us to be content with a diſtance, but draw us cloſe unto himſelf, make us preſs toward the mark, and faſten our ſelves on that Saviour, which hath redeemed us from the body and guilt of this ſo great death. The third Ʋſe is of comfort and confirmation to ſome tender Souls who are incorporate into Chriſt, yet finding not in themſelves that exceſſive meaſure of humiliation which they obſerve in others, ſuſpect their own ſtate, and infinitely grieve that they can grieve no more. Whereas this Doctrine being obſerved, will be an allay to their ſorrow, and wipe ſome unneceſſary tears from their Eyes. For if the greatneſs of ſin paſt, or the plentiful relicks of ſin remaining, do require ſo great a meaſure of ſorrow, to expiate the one, and ſubdue the other; if it be a deliverance from an habituate ſervitude to all manner of ſin, which provokes this extraordinary pains of expreſſion; then certainly they who have been brought up with the ſpirit, which were from their baptiſm never wholly deprived of it, need not to be bound over to this trade of ſorrow, need not to be ſet apart to that perpetual humiliation, which a more ſtubborn ſin or Devil is wont to be caſt out by. I doubt not but a ſoul educated in familiarity with the ſpirit, may at once enjoy her ſelf and it; and ſo, that if it have an humble conceit of it ſelf, and a filial of God, may in Earth poſſeſs God with ſome clearneſs of look, ſome ſerenity of affections, ſome alacrity of heart, and tranquillity of ſpirit. God delights not in the torment of his children, (though ſome are ſo to be humbled) yea, he delights not in ſuch burnt-offerings, as they beſtow upon him, who deſtroy, and conſume, and ſacrifice themſelves; but the Lords delight is in them that fear him filially, and put their truſt, i. e. aſſurance, confidence in his mercy; in them that rejoice, that make their ſervice a pleaſure, not an affliction, and thereby poſſeſs Heaven before they come to it. 'Tis obſerved in husbandry, that ſoyl, laid on hard, barren, ſtarved ground, doth improve it, and at once deface and enrich it, which yet in ground naturally fruitful, and kept in heart, and good caſe, is eſteemed unneceſſary and burthenſom. You need not the application. Again, the husbandman can mend a dry, ſtubborn, wayward, fruitleſs earth, by overflowing of it, and on ſuch indeed is his ordinary requiſite diſcipline, to puniſh it for its amendment. But there is a ground otherwiſe well tempered, which they call a weeping ground, whence continually water ſoaks out, and this proves ſeldom fruitful (if our learned Husbandmen obſerve aright) wherefore there is ſometime need of draining, as well as watering. The application is, that your Soul which either hath been naturally dry and barren, or elſe over-wrought in the buſineſs of the World, needs a flood of tears to ſoften and purge it. But the well temper'd Soul which hath never been out of heart, but hath always had ſome inward life, ſome fatneſs of, and nouriſhment from the ſpirit, is rather oppreſt than improved by ſuch an overſlow. The Chriſtian is thereby much hindred in his progreſs of good works, and cannot ſerve the Lord with alacrity, that ſo perpetually hangs down his head like a Bulruſh. Wherefore, the Country rule is, that that ground is beſt which is mellow, which being cruſht will break, but not crumble, diſſolve, but not exceſſively. Hence, I ſay, the habituate believer need not ſuſpect his eſtate, if he find not in himſelf ſuch an extremity of violent grief, and humiliation, as he obſerves in others; knowing, that in him ſuch a meaſure of tears would both ſoil the face of his devotion, and clog the exerciſe of it. His beſt mediocrity will be to be habitually humbled, but actually lively and alacrious in the ways of godlineſs; not to be too rigid and ſevere a Tyrant over his Soul, but to keep it in a temper of Chriſtian ſoftneſs, tender under the hand of God, and yet man-like and able both in the performance of Gods worſhip and his own calling. And whenſoever we ſhall find our ſelves in either extreme, either too much hardned, or too much melted, too much elevated, or too much dejected; then to pray to that Holy Spirit, ſo to faſhion the temper of our Souls, that we neither fail in humbling our ſelves in ſome meaſure for our ſins, nor yet too cowardly deject and caſt down our ſelves, below the courage, and comfort, and ſpiritual rejoycing which he hath preſcribed us. O Holy Lord, we are the greateſt of Sinners, and therefore we humble our ſelves before thee; but thou haſt ſent thy Chriſt into the World to ſave Sinners, and therefore we raiſe up our ſpirits again, and praiſe, and magnifie thy name. And thus much of this point, and in brief, of the firſt conſideration of theſe words, to wit, as they are abſolutely a profeſſion of Paul himſelf, to which end we beheld him in his double eſtate, converted and unconverted. In his unconverted ſtate we found, though a very great Sinner, yet not abſolutely greater than thoſe times brought forth, and therefore we were to think of him relatively to his future eſtate, and ſo we found him the greateſt Sinner that ever was called in the New Teſtament into ſo glorious a Saint. Whence we obſerve the rarity of ſuch converſions, that though Saul were, yet every blaſphemous Sinner could not expect to be called from the depth of ſin to regeneracy and ſalvation: and this we proved, both againſt the ancient Romans, and modern Cenſors of morality, and applied it to the care which we ought to have, of keeping our unregeneracy ſpotleſs from any reigning ſin. Afterward we came to Paul converted, where we balk't the Diſcourſe of the condition of ſin in the regenerate, and rather obſerved the effect of it; and in it, that the greatneſs of his ſin made (as Paul, ſo) every regenerate man more eagerly to faſten on Chriſt. Which being proved by a double ground, we applied firſt by way of caution, how that propoſition was to be underſtood; 2. By way of character, how a great Sinner may judge of his ſincere certain Converſion; 3. By way of comfort to others, who find not the effects of humiliation and the like in themſelves, in ſuch meaſure as they ſee in others; and ſo we have paſt through the firſt conſideration of theſe words, being conceived abſolutely as St. Pauls profeſſion of himſelf, we ſhould come to the other conſideration, as they are ſet down to us as a pattern or form of confeſſing the eſtate, and applying the Salvation of Sinners to our ſelves, which buſineſs requiring the pains, and being worthy the expence of an entire hour, we muſt defer to a ſecond exerciſe.
Now the God which hath created us, hath elected, redeemed, called, juſtified us, will ſanctifie us in his time, will proſper this his ordinance, will direct us by his grace to his glory; To him be aſcribed due the honour, the praiſe, the glory, the dominion, which through all ages of the world have been given to him that ſitteth on the Throne, to the Holy Spirit, and Lamb for evermore.