THE WORLD'S GREAT SERMONS, VOLUME II (of 10)

HOOKER TO SOUTH

COMPILED BY GRENVILLE KLEISERFormerly of Yale Divinity School Faculty; Author of "How to Speak inPublic, " Etc. 

With Assistance from Many of the Foremost Living Preachers and OtherTheologians

INTRODUCTION BY LEWIS O. BRASTOW, D. D. Professor Emeritus of Practical Theology in Yale University

IN TEN VOLUMES

HOOKER

THE ACTIVITY OF FAITH; OR, ABRAHAM'S IMITATORS

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

Thomas Hooker, graduate and fellow of Cambridge, England, andpractically founder of Connecticut, was born in 1586. He was dedicatedto the ministry, and began his activities in 1620 by taking a smallparish in Surrey. He did not, however, attract much notice for hispowerful advocacy of reformed doctrine, until 1629, when he was citedto appear before Laud, the Bishop of London, whose threats induced himto leave England for Holland, whence he sailed with John Cotton, in1633, for New England, and settled in Newtown, now Cambridge, Mass. 

Chiefly in consequence of disagreements between his own and Cotton'scongregation he, with a large following, migrated in 1636 to theConnecticut Valley, where the little band made their center atHartford. Hooker was the inspirer if not the author of the FundamentalLaws and was of wide political as well as religious influence inorganizing "The United Colonies of New England" in 1643--the firsteffort after federal government made on this continent. He was anactive preacher and prolific writer up to his death in 1647. 

HOOKER

1586-1647

THE ACTIVITY OF FAITH; OR, ABRAHAM'S IMITATORS

_And the father of circumcision to them who are not of circumcisiononly, but who also walk in the steps of that faith of our fatherAbraham, which he had, being yet uncircumcized_. --Romans iv. , 12. 

I proceed now to show who those are, that may, and do indeed, receivebenefit as Abraham did. The text saith, "They that walk in the stepsof that faith of Abraham:" that man that not only enjoyeth theprivileges of the Church, but yieldeth the obedience of faith, according to the Word of God revealed, and walketh in obedience, _that_ man alone shall be blest with faithful Abraham. 

Two points may be here raised, but I shall hardly handle them both;therefore I will pass over the first only with a touch, and that liethclosely couched in the text. 

That faith causeth fruitfulness in the hearts and lives of those inwhom it is. 

Mark what I say: a faithful man is a fruitful man; faith enabletha man to be doing. Ask the question, by what power was it wherebyAbraham was enabled to yield obedience to the Lord? The text answerethyou, "They that walk in the footsteps" not of Abraham, but "in thefootsteps of the faith of Abraham. " A man would have thought the textshould have run thus: They that walk in the footsteps of Abraham. Thatis true, too, but the apostle had another end; therefore he saith, "They that walk in the footsteps of the faith of Abraham, " implyingthat it was the grace of faith that God bestowed on Abraham, thatquickened and enabled him to perform every duty that God required ofhim, and called him to the performance of. So that I say, the questionbeing, whence came it that Abraham was so fruitful a Christian, whatenabled him to do and to suffer what he did? surely it was faith thatwas the cause that produced such effects, that helped him to performsuch actions. The point then you see is evident, faith it is thatcauseth fruit. 

Hence it is, that of almost all the actions that a Christian hath todo, faith is still said to be the worker. If a man pray as he should, it is "the prayer of faith. " If a man obey as he should, it is theobedience of faith. If a man war in the Church militant, it is "thefight of faith. " If a man live as a Christian and holy man, he "livethby faith. " Nay, shall I say yet more, if he died as he ought, "hedieth by faith. " "These all died in faith. " What is that? The powerof faith that directed and ordered them in the cause of their death, furnished them with grounds and principles of assurance of the love ofGod, made them carry themselves patiently in death. I can say nomore, but with the apostle, "Examine yourselves, whether ye be in thefaith. " Why doth not the apostle say, Examine whether faith be in you, but "whether ye be in the faith"? His meaning is, that as a man issaid to be in drink, or to be in love, or to be in passion, that is, under the command of drink, or love, or passion; so the whole man mustbe under the command of faith (as you shall see more afterward). If heprays, faith must indite his prayer; if he obey, faith must work; ifhe live, it is faith that must quicken him; and if he die, it is faiththat must order him in death. And wheresoever faith is, it will dowonders in the soul of that man where it is; it can not be idle; itwill have footsteps, it sets the whole man on work; it moveth feet, and hands, and eyes, and all parts of the body. Mark how the apostledisputeth: "We having the same spirit of faith, according as it iswritten, I believed, and therefore have I spoken, we also believe, andtherefore speak. " The faith of the apostle, which he had in his heart, set his tongue agoing. If a man have faith within, it will break forthat his mouth. This shall suffice for the proof of the point; I thoughtto have prest it further, but if I should, I see the time wouldprevent me. 

The use, therefore, in a word, is this: if this be so, then it fallethfoul, and is a heavy bill of indictment against many that live in thebosom of the Church. Go thy ways home, and read but this text, andconsider seriously but this one thing in it: That whosoever is the sonof Abraham, hath faith, and whosoever hath faith is a walker, is amarker; by the footsteps of faith you may see where faith hath been. Will not this, then, I say, fall marvelous heavy upon many souls thatlive in the bosom of the Church, who are confident, and put it out ofall question, that they are true believers, and make no doubt but whatthey have faith? But look to it, wheresoever faith is, it is fruitful. If thou art fruitless, say what thou wilt, thou hast no faith at all. Alas, these idle drones, these idle Christians, the Church is too fullof them; Men are continually hearing, and yet remain fruitless andunprofitable; whereas if there were more faith in the world, we shouldhave more work done in the world; faith would set feet, and hands, andeyes, and all on work. Men go under the name of professors, but alas!they are but pictures; they stir not a whit; mark, where you foundthem in the beginning of the year, there you shall find them inthe end of the year, as profane, as worldly, as loose in theirconversations, as formal in duty as ever. And is this faith? Oh! faithwould work other matters, and provoke a soul to other passages thanthese. 

But you will say, may not a man have faith, and not that fruit youspeak of? May not a man have a good heart to Godward, altho he can notfind that ability in matter of fruitfulness?

My brethren, be not deceived; such an opinion is a mere delusion ofSatan; wherever faith is it bringeth Christ into the soul; mark that, "Whosoever believeth, Christ dwelleth in his heart by faith. And ifChrist be in you, " saith the apostle, "the body is dead, because ofsin, but the spirit is life, because of righteousness. " If Christ bein you, that is, whosoever believeth in the Lord Jesus, Christ dwellsin such a man by faith; now if Christ be in the soul, the body can notbe dead; but a man is alive, and quick, and active to holy duties, ready, and willing, and cheerful in the performance of whatsoever Godrequireth. Christ is not a dear Savior, nor the Spirit a dead Spirit:the second Adam is made a quickening spirit. And wherever the Spiritis, it works effects suitable to itself. The Spirit is a spirit ofpurity, a spirit of zeal, and where it is it maketh pure and zealous. When a man will say he hath faith, and in the mean time can be contentto be idle and unfruitful in the work of the Lord, can be contentto be a dead Christian, let him know that his case is marvelouslyfearful: for if faith were in him indeed it would appear; ye can notkeep your good hearts to yourselves; wherever fire is it will burn, and wherever faith is it can not be kept secret. The heart will beenlarged, the soul quickened, and there will be a change in the wholelife and conversation, if ever faith takes place in a man. I will sayno more of this, but proceed to the second point arising out of theaffirmative part. 

You will say, what fruit is it then? Or how shall a man know whatis the true fruit of faith, indeed, whereby he may discern his ownestate? I answer, the text will tell you: "He that walketh in thefootsteps of that faith of Abraham. " By footsteps are meant the worksthe actions, the holy endeavors of Abraham; and where those footstepsare there is the faith of Abraham. So that the point of instructionhence is thus much (which indeed is the main drift of the apostle). 

That, Every faithful man may, yea doth, imitate the actions offaithful Abraham. 

Mark what I say; I say again, this is to be the son of Abraham, notbecause we are begotten of him by natural generation, for so the Jewsare the sons of Abraham; but Abraham is our father because he is thepattern, for the proceeding of our faith. "Thy father was an Amorite, "saith the Scripture: that is, thou followest the steps of theAmorites in thy conversation. So is Abraham called the "father of thefaithful, " because he is the copy of their course, whom they mustfollow in those services that God calleth for. So the point is clear, every faithful man may, yea doth, and must imitate the actions offaithful Abraham. It is Christ's own plea, and He presseth it as anundeniable truth upon the hearts of the Scribes and Pharisees, thatbragged very highly of their privileges and prerogatives, and said, "Abraham is our father. " "No (saith Christ), if ye were Abraham'schildren ye would do the works of Abraham. " To be like Abraham inconstitution, to be one of his blood, is not that which makes a man ason of Abraham, but to be like him in holiness of affection, to havea heart framed and a life disposed answerably to his. The apostle inlike manner presseth this point when he would provoke the Hebrews, to whom he wrote, to follow the examples of the saints: "Whose faith(says he) follow, considering the end of their conversation. " So theapostle Peter presseth the example of Sarah upon all good women:"Whose daughter ye are (saith he) as long: as ye do well. "

For the opening of the point, and that ye may more clearly understandit, a question here would be resolved, what were "the footsteps ofthe faith of Abraham"? which way went he? This is a question, I say, worthy the scanning, and therefore (leaving the further confirmationof the point, as already evident enough) I will come to it that youmay know what to settle your hearts upon. 

I answer, therefore, there are six footsteps of the faith of Abraham, which are the main things wherein every faithful man must do asAbraham did, in the work of faith--I mean in his ordinary course; forif there be any thing extraordinary no man is bound to imitate himtherein; but in the works of faith, I say, which belongeth to all men, every man must imitate Abraham in these six steps, and then he isin the next door to happiness, the very next neighbor, as I say, toheaven. 

The first advance which Abraham made in the ways of grace andhappiness, you shall observe to be a yielding to the call of God. Markwhat God said to Abraham: "Get thee out of thy country, and from thykindred, and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will showthee; and Abraham departed, " saith the text, "as the Lord had spokenunto him. " Even when he was an idolater, he is content to lay asideall and let the command of God bear the sway; neither friends, norkindred, nor gods can keep him back, but he presently stoopeth to thecall of God. So it is, my brethren, with every faithful man. This ishis first step: he is content to be under the rule and power of God'scommand. Let the Lord call for him, require any service of him, hissoul presently yieldeth, and is content to be framed and fashioned toGod's call, and returneth an obedient answer thereto; he is contentto come out of his sins, and out of himself, and to receive theimpressions of the Spirit. This is that which God requireth, not onlyof Abraham, but of all believers: "Whosoever will be my disciple, "saith Christ, "must forsake father, and mother, and children, andhouses, and lands"; yea, and he must "deny himself, and take up hiscross and follow me. " This is the first step in Christianity, to laydown our own honors, to trample upon our own respects, to submit ournecks to the block, as it were, and whatever God commands, to becontent that His good pleasure should take place with us. 

Then Abraham, as doth every faithful soul, set forward, in this wise:He showed that whenever faith cometh powerfully into the heart, thesoul is not content barely to yield to the command of God, but itbreatheth after His mercy, longeth for His grace, prizeth Christ andsalvation above all things in the world, is satisfied and contentedwith nothing but with the Lord Christ, and altho it partake of manythings below, and enjoy abundance of outward comforts, yet it is notquieted till it rest and pitch itself upon the Lord, and find and feelthat evidence and assurance of His love, which He hath promised untoand will bestow on those who love Him. As for all things here below, he hath but a slight, and mean, and base esteem of them. This youshall see apparent in Abraham. "Fear not, Abraham (saith God), I amthy shield, and thy exceeding great reward. " What could a man desiremore? One would think that the Lord makes a, promise here large enoughto Abraham, "I will be thy buckler, and exceeding great reward. " Isnot Abraham contented with this? No; mark how he pleadeth with God:"Lord God (saith he), what wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless?"His eye is upon the promise that God had made to him of a son, of whomthe Savior of the world should come. "O Lord, what wilt thou give me?"as if he had said, What wilt Thou do for me? alas! nothing will do mysoul good unless I have a son, and in him a Savior. What will becomeof me so long as I go childless, and so Saviorless, as I may so speak?You see how Abraham's mouth was out of taste with all other things, how he could relish nothing, enjoy nothing in comparison of thepromise, tho he had otherwise what he would, or could desire. Thusmust it be with every faithful man. That soul never had, nor nevershall have Christ, that doth not prize Him above all things in theworld. 

The next step of Abraham's faith was this, he casteth himself andflingeth his soul, as I may say, upon the all-sufficient power andmercy of God for the attainment of what he desireth; he rolleth andtumbleth himself, as it were, upon the all-sufficiency of God. Thisyou shall find in Rom. Iv. 18, where the apostle, speaks of Abraham, who "against hope, believed in hope"; that is, when there was no hopein the world, yet he believed in God, even above hope, and so made itpossible. It was an object of his hope, that it might be in regard ofGod, howsoever there was no possibility in regard of man. So the textsaith, "he considered not his own body now dead, when he was about ahundred years old, neither yet the deadness of Sarah's womb, but wasstrong in faith. " He cast himself wholly upon the precious promise andmercy of God. 

But he took another step in true justifying faith. He proved to us thebeliever is informed touching the excellency of the Lord Jesus, and that fulness that is to be had in Him, tho he can not find thesweetness of His mercy, tho he can not or dare not apprehend andapply it to himself, tho he find nothing in himself, yet he is stillresolved to rest upon the Lord, and to stay himself on the God of hissalvation, and to wait for His mercy till he find Him gracious to hispoor soul. Excellent and famous is the example of the woman of Canaan. When Christ, as it were, beat her off, and took up arms against her, was not pleased to reveal Himself graciously to her for the present, "I am not sent (saith He) but to the lost sheep of the house ofIsrael; and it is not meet to take the children's bread, and to castit to the dogs"; mark how she replied, "Truth, Lord, I confessall that; yet notwithstanding, the dogs eat of the crumbs that fallfrom their master's table. " Oh, the excellency, and strength, andwork of her faith! She comes to Christ for mercy, He repelleth her, reproacheth her, tells her she is a dog; she confesseth her baseness, is not discouraged for all that, but still resteth upon the goodnessand mercy of Christ, and is mightily resolved to have mercy whatsoeverbefalleth her. Truth, Lord, I confess I am as bad as Thou canst termme, yet I confess, too, that there is no comfort but from Thee, andtho I am a dog, yet I would have crumbs. Still she laboreth to catchafter mercy, and to lean and to bear herself upon the favor of Christfor the bestowing thereof upon her. So it must be with every faithfulChristian in this particular; he must roll himself upon the power, andfaithfulness, and truth of God, and wait for His mercy (I will jointhem both together for brevity's sake, tho the latter be a fourth stepand degree of faith); I say he must not only depend upon God, but hemust wait upon the Holy One of Israel. 

But a further step of Abraham's faith appeared in this: he countednothing too dear for the Lord; he was content to break through allimpediments, to pass through all difficulties, whatsoever God wouldhave, He had of him. This is the next step that Abraham went; and thisyou shall find when God put him upon trial. The text saith there "thatGod did tempt Abraham, " did try what He would do for Him, and He badehim, "Go, take thy son, thine only son, Isaac, whom thou lovest, andslay him"; and straight Abraham went and laid his son upon an altar, and took a knife, to cut the throat of his son--so that Abraham didnot spare his son Isaac, he did not spare for any cost, he did notdodge with God in this case; if God would have anything, He shouldhave it, whatsoever it were, tho it were his own life, for no questionIsaac was dearer to him than his own life. And this was not his casealone, but the faithful people of God have ever walked the samecourse. The apostle Paul was of the same spirit; "I know not (saithhe) the things that shall befall me, save that the Holy Ghostwitnesseth in every city, saying that bonds and afflictions abide me:but none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear untomyself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministrywhich I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of thegrace of God. " O blest spirit! here is the work of faith. Alas! whenwe come to part with anything for the cause of God, how hardly comesit from us! "But I (saith he) pass not, no, nor is my life dear untome. " Here, I say, is the work of faith, indeed, when a man is contentto do anything for God, and to say if imprisonment, loss of estate, liberty, life, come, I pass not, it moveth me nothing, so I may finishmy course with comfort. Hence it was that the saints of God in thoseprimitive times "took joyfully the spoiling of their goods. " MethinksI see the saints there reaching after Christ with the arms of faith, and how, when anything lay in their way, they were content to loseall, to part with all, to have Christ. Therefore saith Saint Paul, "Iam ready not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for thename of the Lord Jesus. " Mark, rather than he would leave his Savior, he would leave his life, and tho men would have hindered him, yet wasresolved to have Christ, howsoever, tho he lost his life for Him. Oh, let me have my Savior, and take my life!

The last step of all is this: when the soul is thus resolved not tododge with God, but to part with anything for Him, then in the lastplace there followeth a readiness of heart to address man's self tothe performance of whatsoever duty God requireth at his hands; I saythis is the last step, when, without consulting with flesh and blood, without hammering upon it, as it were, without awkwardness of heart, there followeth a readiness to obey God; the soul is at hand. WhenAbraham was called, "Behold (saith he) here I am. " And so Samuel, "Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth, " and so Ananias. "Behold, I amhere, Lord. " The faithful soul is not to seek, as an evil servant thatis gone a roving after his companions, that is out of the way when hismaster would use him, but is like a trusty servant that waiteth uponhis master, and is ever at hand to do His pleasure. So you shall seeit was with Abraham, when the Lord commanded him to go out of hiscountry, "he obeyed, and went out, not knowing whither he went"; hewent cheerfully and readily, tho he knew not whither; as who wouldsay, if the Lord calls, I will not question, if He command I willperform, whatever it be. So it must be with every faithful soul--wemust blind the eye of carnal reason, resolve to obey, tho heaven andearth seem to meet together in a contradiction, care not what man orwhat devil saith in this case, but what God will have done, do it;this is the courage and obedience of faith. See how Saint Paul, in theplace before named, flung his ancient friends from him, when they cameto cross him in the work of his ministry. They all came about him, andbecause they thought they should see his face no more, they besoughthim not to go up to Jerusalem. Then Paul answered, "What, mean ye toweep, and to break my heart?" as who should say, It is a grief and avexation to my soul, that ye would burden me, that I can not go withreadiness to perform the service that God requireth at my hands. Thelike Christian courage was in Luther when his friends dissuaded him togo to Worms: "If all the tiles in 'Worms' were so many devils (said he)yet would I go thither in the name of my Lord Jesus. " This is the laststep. 

Now gather up a little what I have delivered. He that is resolved tostoop to the call of God; to prize the promises, and breathe afterthem; to rest upon the Lord, and to wait His time for bestowing mercyupon him; to break through all impediments and difficulties, and tocount nothing too dear for God; to be content to perform ready andcheerful obedience; he that walketh thus, and treadeth in these steps, peace be upon him; heaven is hard by; he is as sure of salvation asthe angels are; it is as certain as the Lord liveth that he shall besaved with faithful Abraham, for he walketh in the steps of Abraham, and therefore he is sure to be where he is. The case, you see, isclear, and the point evident, that every faithful man may, and must, imitate faithful Abraham. 

It may be here imagined, that we draw men up to too high a pitch; andcertainly, if this be the sense of the words, and the meaning of theHoly Ghost in this place, what will become of many that live in thebosom of the Church? Will you therefore see the point confirmed byreason? The ground of this doctrine stands thus: every faithful manhath the same faith, for nature and for work, that Abraham had;therefore, look what nature his faith was of, and what power it had;of the same nature and power every true believer's faith is. Brieflythus: the promises of God are the ground upon which all true faithresteth; the Spirit of God it is that worketh this faith in allbelievers; the power of the Spirit is that that putteth forth itselfin the hearts and lives of all the faithful; gather these together:if all true believers have the same promises for the ground of theirfaith; have one and the same spirit to work it; have' one and the samepower to draw out the abilities of faith, then certainly they can notbut have the very self-same actions, having the very self-same groundof their actions. 

Every particular believer (as the apostle Peter saith) "hath obtainedthe like precious faith. " Mark, that there is a great deal of copperfaith in the world--much counterfeit believing; but the saints doall partake of "the like precious faith. " As when a man hath but asixpence in silver, or a crown in gold, those small pieces, for thenature, are as good as the greatest of the same metal; so it is withthe faith of God's elect. And look as it is in grafting; if there bemany scions of the same kind grafted into one stock, they all partakealike of the virtue of the stock; just so it is here. The Lord JesusChrist is the stock, as it were, into which all the faithful aregrafted by the spirit of God and faith; therefore, whatsoever fruitone beareth, another beareth also: howsoever, there may be degrees ofworks, yet they are of the same nature. As a little apple is the samein taste with a great one of the same tree, even so every faithful manhath the same holiness of heart and life, because he hath the sameprinciple of holiness. The fruit indeed that one Christian bringethmay be but poor and small in comparison with others, yet it is thesame in kind; the course of his life is not with so much power andfulness of grace, it may be, as another's, yet there is the same truegrace, and the same practise, in the kind of it, for truth, however indegree it differ. 

Let us now come to see what benefit we may make to ourselves of thispoint, thus proved and confirmed; and, certainly, the use of thisdoctrine is of great consequence. In the first place, it is a justground of examination. For if it be true (as can not be denied, thereasons being so strong, and arguments so plain) that every son ofAbraham followeth the steps of Abraham, then here you may clearlyperceive who it is that hath saving faith indeed, who they be that aretrue saints and the sons of Abraham. By the light of this truth, bythe rule of this doctrine, if you would square your courses, and lookinto your conversations, you can not but discern whether you havefaith or no. That man whose faith showeth itself and putteth itselfforth in its several conditions, agreeably to, the faith of Abraham, that man that followeth the footsteps of the faith of Abraham, let himbe esteemed a faithful man, let him be reckoned for a true believer. 

You that are gentlemen and tradesmen, I appeal to your souls whetherthe Lord and His cause is not the loser this way? Doth not prayer payfor it? Doth not the Word pay for it? Are not the ordinances alwayslosers when anything of your own cometh in competition? Is it notevident, then, that you are not under the command of the Word? How doyou tremble at the wrath and threatenings of a mortal man? and yet, when you hear the Lord thunder judgments out of His Word, who ishumbled? When He calls for fasting, and weeping, and mourning, whoregards it? Abraham, my brethren, did not thus: these were none of hissteps; no, no: he went a hundred miles off this course. The Lord nosooner said to him, "Forsake thy country and thy kindred, and thyfather's house, " but he forsook all, neither friend nor fatherprevailed to detain him from obedience, but he stooped willingly toGod's command. 

There are a sort that come short of being the sons of Abraham, andthey are the close-hearted hypocrites. These are a generation that areof a more refined kind than the last, but howsoever they carry thematter very covertly, yea, and are exceeding cunning; yet the truthwill make them known. Many a hypocrite may come thus far, to becontent to part with anything, and outwardly to suffer for the causeof God, to part with divers pleasures and lusts, and to perform manyholy services. But here is the difference between Abraham and thesemen: Abraham forsook his goods and all, but your close-heartedhypocrites have always some god or other that they do homage to--theirease, or their wealth, or some secret lust, something or other theyhave set up as an idol within them--and so long as they may have andenjoy that, they will part with anything else. But thou must knowthat, if thou be one of Abraham's children, thou must come away fromthy gods--the god of pride, of self-love, of vainglory--and leaveworshiping of these, and be content to be alone by God and His truth. This shall suffice for the first use; I can not proceed further in thepressing thereof, because I would shut up all with the time. 

The second use is a word of instruction, and it shall be but a word ortwo; that if all the saints of God must walk in the same way of lifeand salvation that Abraham did, then there is no byway to bring a manto happiness. Look, what way Abraham went, you must go; there are nomore ways: the same course that he took must be a copy for you tofollow, a rule, as it were, for you to square your whole conversationby. There is no way but one to come to life and happiness. I speak itthe rather to dash that idle device of many carnal men, that think theLord hath a new invention to bring them to life, and that they neednot go the ordinary way, but God hath made a shorter cut for them. Great men and gentlemen think God will spare them. What, must they behumbled, and fast, and pray! That is for poor men, and mean men. Theirplaces and estates will not suffer it; therefore surely God hathgiven a dispensation to them. And the poor men, they think it is forgentlemen that have more leisure and time: alas! they live by theirlabor, and they must take pains for what they have, and therefore theycan not do what is required. But be not deceived; if there be any waybeside that which Abraham went, then will I deny myself. But the caseis clear, the Lord saith it, the Word saith it; the same way, the samefootsteps that Abraham took, we must take, if ever we will come whereAbraham is. 

You must not balk in this kind, whoever you are; God respecteth noman's person. If you would arrive at the same haven, you must sailthrough the same sea. You must walk the same way of grace, if youwould come to the same kingdom of glory. It is a conceit thatharboreth in the hearts of many men, nay, of most men in general, especially your great wise men and your great rich men, that havebetter places and estates in the world than ordinary. What, thinkthey, may not a man be saved without all this ado? What needs allthis? Is there not another way besides this? Surely, my brethren, youmust teach our Savior Christ and the apostle Paul another way. I amsure they never knew another; and he that dreameth of another way mustbe content to go beside. There is no such matter as the devil wouldpersuade you; it is but his delusion to keep you under infidelity, andso shut you up to destruction under false and vain conceits. The truthis, here is the way, and the only way, and you must walk here if everyou come to life and happiness. Therefore, be not deceived, suffer notyour eyes to be blinded; but know, what Abraham did, you must do thesame, if not in action, yet in affection. If God say, forsake all, thou must do it, at least in affection. Thou must still wait upon Hispower and providence; yield obedience to Him in all things; be contentto submit thyself to His will. This is the way you must walk in, ifyou ever come to heaven. 

The last use shall be a use of comfort to all the saints and people ofGod, whose consciences can witness that they have labored to walk inthe uprightness of their heart as Abraham did. I have two or threewords to speak to these. 

Be persuaded out of the Word of God, that your course is good, and goon with comfort, and the God of heaven be with you; and be sure of it, that you that walk with Abraham shall be at rest with Abraham; and itshall never repent you of all the pains that you have taken. Haply itmay seem painful and tedious to you; yet, what Abigail said to David, let me say to you: "Oh, " saith she, "let not my lord do this: when theLord shall have done to my lord according to all the good that hehath spoken concerning thee, and shall have appointed thee ruler overIsrael, this shall be no grief unto thee, nor offense of heart, thatthou hast shed blood causeless, or that my lord hath avengedhimself. " My brethren, let me say to you, you will find trouble andinconveniences and hard measure at the hands of the wicked in thisworld. Many Nabals and Cains will set themselves against you; but goon, and bear it patiently. Know it is a troublesome way, but a trueway; it is grievous but yet good; and the end will be happy. It willnever repent you, when the Lord hath performed all the good that Hehath spoken concerning you. 

Oh! to see a man drawing his breath low and short, after he hathspent many hours and days in prayer to the Lord, grappling with hiscorruptions, and striving to pull down his base lusts, after he hathwaited upon the Lord in a constant course of obedience. Take but sucha man, and ask him, now his conscience is opened, whether the waysof holiness and sincerity be not irksome to him, whether he be notgrieved with himself for undergoing so much needless trouble (as theworld thinks it); and his soul will then clear this matter. It is truehe hath a tedious course of it, but now his death will be blest. Hehath striven for a crown, and now beholds a crown. Now he is beyondthe waves. All the contempts, and imprisonments, and outragesof wicked men are now too short to reach him. He is so far fromrepenting, that he rejoiceth and triumpheth in reflecting back uponall the pains, and care, and labor of love, whereby he hath loved theLord Jesus, in submitting his heart unto Him. 

Take me another man, that hath lived here in pomp and jollity, hath had many livings, great preferments, much honor, abundance ofpleasure, yet hath been ever careless of God and of His Word, profanein his course, loose in his conversation, and ask him upon hisdeathbed, how it standeth with him. Oh! woe the time, that ever hespent it as he hath done. Now the soul begins to hate the man, andthe very sight of him that hath been, the instrument with it in thecommitting of sin. Now nothing but gall and wormwood remaineth. Nowthe sweetness of the adulterer's lust is gone, and nothing but thesting of conscience remaineth. Now the covetous man must part withhis goods, and the gall of asps must stick behind. Now the soul sinkswithin, and the heart is overwhelmed with sorrow. Take but these twomen, I say, and judge by their ends, whether it will ever repent youthat you have done well, that you have walked in the steps of thefaith of Abraham. 

My brethren, howsoever you have had many miseries, yet the Lord hathmany mercies for you. God dealeth with His servants, as a father dothwith his son, after he hath sent him on a journey to do some business;and the weather falleth foul, and the way proveth dangerous, and manya storm, and great difficulties are to be gone through. Oh, how theheart of that father pitieth his son! How doth he resolve to requitehim, if he ever live to come home again! What preparation doth he maketo entertain, and welcome him; and how doth he study to do good untohim! My brethren, so it is here; I beseech you, think of it, you thatare the saints and people of God. You must find in your way manytroubles and griefs (and we ought to find them), but be notdiscouraged. The more misery, the greater mercy. God the Father seethHis servants: and if they suffer and endure for a good conscience, asHis eye seeth them, so His soul pitieth them. His heart bleeds withinHim for them; that is, He hath a tender compassion of them, and Hesaith within Himself, Well, I will requite them if ever they come intoMy kingdom; all their patience, and care, and conscience in walking Myways, I will requite; and they shall receive a double reward from Me, even a crown of eternal glory. Think of these things that are notseen; they are eternal. The things that are seen are temporal, andthey will deceive us. Let our hearts be carried after the other, andrest in them forever!

JEREMY TAYLOR

CHRIST'S ADVENT TO JUDGMENT

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

Jeremy Taylor, born in Cambridge, England, in 1613, was the son of abarber. By his talents he obtained an entrance into Caius College, where his exceptional progress obtained for him admission to theministry in his twenty-first year, two years before the canonical age. He was appointed in succession fellow of All Souls, Oxford, throughthe influence of Laud, chaplain to the King, and rector of Uppingham. During the Commonwealth he was expelled from his living and opened aschool in Wales, employing his seclusion in writing his memorable work"The Liberty of Prophesying. "

At the Restoration, Charles II raised him to the bishopric of Down andConnor (1660), in which post he remained until his death in 1667. His"_Ductor Dubitantium_, " dedicated to Charles II, is a work of subtiltyand ingenuity; his "Holy Living" and "Holy Dying" (1652), are uniquemonuments of learning and devotion. His sermons form, however, hismost brilliant and most voluminous productions, and fully establishhis claims to the first place among the learned, witty, fanciful, ornate and devotional prose writers of his time. 

JEREMY TAYLOR

1613-1667

CHRIST'S ADVENT TO JUDGMENT

_For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that everyone may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hathdone, whether it be good or bad_. --II Cor. , v. , 10. 

If we consider the person of the Judge, we first perceive that He isinterested in the injury of the crimes He is to sentence: "They shalllook on Him whom they have pierced. " It was for thy sins that theJudge did suffer such unspeakable pains as were enough to reconcileall the world to God; the sum and spirit of which pains could not bebetter understood than by the consequence of His own words, "MyGod, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" meaning, that He felt suchhorrible, pure, unmingled sorrows, that, altho His human nature waspersonally united to the Godhead, yet at that instant he felt nocomfortable emanations by sensible perception from the Divinity, butHe was so drenched in sorrow that the Godhead seemed to have forsakenHim. Beyond this, nothing can be added: but then, that thou hast forthy own particular made all this sin in vain and ineffective, thatChrist thy Lord and Judge should be tormented for nothing, that thouwouldst not accept felicity and pardon when he purchased them at sodear a price, must needs be an infinite condemnation to such persons. How shalt thou look upon Him that fainted and died for love of thee, and thou didst scorn His miraculous mercies? How shall we dare tobehold that holy face that brought salvation to us, and we turned awayand fell in love with death, and kissed deformity and sins? And yet inthe beholding that face consists much of the glories of eternity. Allthe pains and passions, the sorrows and the groans, the humility andpoverty, the labors and watchings, the prayers and the sermons, themiracles and the prophecies, the whip and the nails, the death and theburial, the shame and the smart, the cross and the grave of Jesus, shall be laid upon thy score, if thou hast refused the mercies anddesign of all their holy ends and purposes. And if we remember what acalamity that was which broke the Jewish nation in pieces, when Christcame to judge them for their murdering Him who was their King and thePrince of Life, and consider that this was but a dark image of theterrors of the day of judgment, we may then apprehend that there issome strange unspeakable evil that attends them that are guilty ofthis death, and of so much evil to their Lord. Now it is certain ifthou wilt not be saved by His death, you are guilty of His death; ifthou wilt not suffer Him to have thee, thou art guilty of destroyingHim; and then let it be considered what is to be expected from thatJudge before whom you stand as His murderer and betrayer. But this isbut half of this consideration. 

Christ may be crucified again, and upon a new account, put to an openshame. For after that Christ has done all this by the direct actionsof His priestly office, of sacrificing himself for us, He hath alsodone very many things for us which are also the fruits of His firstlove and prosecutions of our redemption. I will not instance thestrange arts of mercy that our Lord uses to bring us to live holylives; but I consider, that things are so ordered, and so greata value set upon our souls since they are the images of God, andredeemed by the blood of the Holy Lamb, that the salvation of oursouls is reckoned as a part of Christ's reward, a part of theglorification of His humanity. Every sinner that repents causes joy toChrist, and the joy is so great that it runs over and wets the fairbrows and beauteous looks of cherubim and seraphim, and all the angelshave a part of that banquet; then it is that our blest Lord feels thefruits of His holy death; the acceptation of His holy sacrifice, thegraciousness of His person, the return of His prayers. For all thatChrist did or suffered, and all that He now does as a priest inheaven, is to glorify His Father by bringing souls to God. For this itwas that He was born and died, that He descended from heaven to earth, from life to death, from the cross to the grave; this was the purposeof His resurrection and ascension, of the end and design of all themiracles and graces of God manifested to all the world by Him; and nowwhat man is so vile, such a malicious fool, that will refuse to bringjoy to his Lord by doing himself the greatest good in the world? Theywho refuse to do this, are said to crucify the Lord of Life again, and put him to an open shame--that is, they, as much as in them lies, bring Christ from His glorious joys to the labors of His life and theshame of His death; they advance His enemies, and refuse to advancethe kingdom of their Lord; they put themselves in that state in whichthey were when Christ came to die for them; and now that He is in astate that He may rejoice over them (for He hath done all His sharetowards it), every wicked man takes his head from the blessing, andrather chooses that the devils should rejoice in his destruction, than that his Lord should triumph in his felicity. And now upon thesupposition of these premises, we may imagine that it will be aninfinite amazement to meet that Lord to be our Judge whose person wehave murdered, whose honor we have disparaged, whose purposes we havedestroyed, whose joys we have lessened, whose passion we have madeineffectual, and whose love we have trampled under our profane andimpious feet. 

But there is yet a third part of this consideration. As it will beinquired at the day of judgment concerning the dishonors to the personof Christ, so also concerning the profession and institution ofChrist, and concerning His poor members; for by these also we make sadreflections upon our Lord. Every man that lives wickedly disgracesthe religion and institution of Jesus, he discourages strangers fromentering into it, he weakens the hands of them that are in already, and makes that the adversaries speak reproachfully of the name ofChrist; but altho it is certain our Lord and Judge will deeply resentall these things, yet there is one thing which He takes more tenderly, and that is, the uncharitableness of men towards His poor. It shallthen be upbraided to them by the Judge, that Himself was hungryand they refused to give meat to Him that gave them His body andheart-blood to feed them and quench their thirst; that they denied arobe to cover His nakedness, and yet He would have clothed their soulswith the robe of His righteousness, lest their souls should be foundnaked on the day of the Lord's visitation; and all this unkindness isnothing but that evil men were uncharitable to their brethren, theywould not feed the hungry, nor give drink to the thirsty nor clothethe naked, nor relieve their brothers' needs, nor forgive theirfollies, nor cover their shame, nor turn their eyes from delighting intheir affronts and evil accidents; this is it which our Lord will takeso tenderly, that His brethren for whom He died, who sucked the papsof His mother, that fed on His body and are nourished with His blood, whom He hath lodged in His heart and entertains in His bosom, thepartners of His spirit and co-heirs of His inheritance, that theseshould be denied relief and suffered to go away ashamed, and unpitied;this our blest Lord will take so ill, that all those who are guilty ofthis unkindness, have no reason to expect the favor of the Court. 

To this if we add the almightiness of the Judge, His infinite wisdomand knowledge of all causes, and all persons, and all circumstances, that He is infinitely just, inflexibly angry, and impartial in Hissentence, there can be nothing added either to the greatness or therequisites of a terrible and an almighty Judge. For who can resist Himwho is almighty? Who can evade His scrutiny that knows all things?Who can hope for pity of Him that is inflexible? Who can think to beexempted when the Judge is righteous and impartial? But in all theseannexes of the Great Judge, that which I shall now remark, is thatindeed which hath terror in it, and that is, the severity of our Lord. For then is the day of vengeance and recompenses, and no mercy atall shall be showed, but to them that are the sons of mercy; for theother, their portion is such as can be expected from these premises. 

If we remember the instances of God's severity in this life, in thedays of mercy and repentance, in those days when judgment waits uponmercy, and receives laws by the rules and measures of pardon, and thatfor all the rare streams of loving; kindness issuing out of paradiseand refreshing all our fields with a moisture more fruitful than thefloods of Nilus, still there are mingled some storms and violences, some fearful instances of the divine justice, we may more readilyexpect it will be worse, infinitely worse, at that day, when judgmentshall ride in triumph, and mercy shall be the accuser of the wicked. But so we read, and are commanded to remember, because they arewritten for our example, that God destroyed at once five cities of theplain, and all the country, and Sodom and her sisters are set forthfor an example, suffering the vengeance of eternal fire. Fearful itwas when God destroyed at once twenty-three thousand for fornication, and an exterminating angel in one night killed one hundred andeighty-five thousand of the Assyrians, and the first-born of all thefamilies of Egypt, and for the sin of David in numbering the people, three score and ten thousand of the people died, and God sent tentribes into captivity and eternal oblivion and indistinction from acommon people for their idolatry. Did not God strike Korah and hiscompany with fire from heaven? and the earth opened and swallowed upthe congregation of Abiram? And is not evil come upon all the worldfor one sin of Adam? Did not the anger of God break the nation ofthe Jews all in pieces with judgments so great, that no nation eversuffered the like, because none ever sinned so? And at once it wasdone, that God in anger destroyed all the world, and eight personsonly escaped the angry baptism of water, and yet this world is thetime of mercy; God hath opened here His magazines, and sent His HolySon as the great channel and fountain of it, too: here He delights inmercy, and in judgment loves to remember it, and it triumphs over allHis works, and God contrives instruments and accidents, chances anddesigns, occasions and opportunities for mercy. If, therefore, now theanger of God makes such terrible eruptions upon the wicked people thatdelight in sin, how great may we suppose that anger to be, how severethat judgment, how terrible that vengeance, how intolerable thoseinflictions which God reserves for the full effusion of indignation onthe great day of vengeance!

We may also guess at it by this: if God upon all single instances, and in the midst of our sins, before they are come to the full, andsometimes in the beginning of an evil habit, be so fierce in Hisanger, what can we imagine it to be in that day when the wicked areto drink the dregs of that horrid potion, and count over all theparticulars of their whole treasure of wrath? "This is the day ofwrath, and God shall reveal, or bring forth, His righteous judgments. "The expression is taken from Deut. Xxxii. , 34: "Is not this laid up instore with me, and sealed up among my treasures? I will restore it inthe day of vengeance, for the Lord shall judge His people, and repentHimself for His servants. " For so did the Lybian lion that was broughtup under discipline, and taught to endure blows, and eat the meatof order and regular provision, and to suffer gentle usages andthe familiarities of societies; but once He brake out into His ownwildness, and killed two Roman boys; but those that forage in theLybian mountains tread down and devour all that they meet or master;and when they have fasted two days, lay up an anger great as is theirappetite, and bring certain death to all that can be overcome. God ispleased to compare himself to a lion; and though in this life He hathconfined Himself with promises and gracious emanations of an infinitegoodness, and limits himself by conditions and covenants, and suffersHimself to be overcome by prayers, and Himself hath invented ways ofatonement and expiation; yet when He is provoked by our unhandsome andunworthy actions, He makes sudden breaches, and tears some of us inpieces, and of others He breaks their bones or affrights their hopesand secular gaieties, and fills their house with mourning and cypress, and groans and death. But when this Lion of the tribe of Judah shallappear upon His own mountain, the mountain of the Lord, in His naturaldress of majesty, and that justice shall have her chain and goldenfetters taken off, then justice shall strike, and mercy shall hold herhands; she shall strike sore strokes, and pity shall not break theblow; and God shall account with us by minutes, and for words, and forthoughts, and then He shall be severe to mark what is done amiss;and that justice may reign entirely, God shall open the wicked man'streasure, and tell the sums, and weigh grains and scruples. Said Philoupon the place of Deuteronomy before quoted: As there are treasures ofgood things, and God has crowns and scepters in store for His saintsand servants, and coronets for martyrs, and rosaries for virgins, andvials full of prayers, and bottles full of tears, and a register ofsighs and penitential groans, so God hath a treasure of wrath andfury, of scourges and scorpions, and then shall be produced the shameof lust, and the malice of envy, and the groans of the opprest, andthe persecutions of the saints, and the cares of covetousness, andthe troubles of ambition, and the insolencies of traitors, and theviolence of rebels, and the rage of anger, and the uneasiness ofimpatience, and the restlessness of unlawful desires; and by this timethe monsters and diseases will be numerous and intolerable, when God'sheavy hand shall press the _sanies_ and the intolerableness, theobliquity and the unreasonableness, the amazement and the disorder, the smart and the sorrow, the guilt and the punishment, out from allour sins, and pour them into one chalice, and mingle them with aninfinite wrath, and make the wicked drink of all the vengeance, andforce it down their unwilling throats with the violence of devils andaccurst spirits. 

We may guess at the severity of the Judge by the lesser strokes ofthat judgment which He is pleased to send upon sinners in this world, to make them afraid of the horrible pains of doomsday--I mean thetorments of an unquiet conscience, the amazement and confusionsof some sins and some persons. For I have sometimes seen personssurprised in a base action, and taken in the circumstances of craftytheft and secret injustices, before their excuse was ready. Theyhave changed their color, their speech hath faltered, their tonguestammered, their eyes did wander and fix nowhere, till shame madethem sink into their hollow eye-pits to retreat from the images andcircumstances of discovery; their wits are lost, their reason useless, the whole order of their soul is decomposed, and they neither see, norfeel, nor think, as they used to do, but they are broken into disorderby a stroke of damnation and a lesser stripe of hell; but then if youcome to observe a guilty and a base murderer, a condemned traitor, and see him harassed first by an evil conscience, and then pulled inpieces by the hangman's hooks, or broken upon sorrows and the wheel, we may then guess (as well as we can in this life) what the painsof that day shall be to accurst souls. But those we shall considerafterward in their proper scene; now only we are to estimate theseverity of our Judge by the intolerableness of an evil conscience;if guilt will make a man despair--and despair will make a man mad, confounded, and dissolved in all the regions of his senses and morenoble faculties, that he shall neither feel, nor hear, nor seeanything but specters and illusions, devils and frightful dreams, andhear noises, and shriek fearfully, and look pale and distracted, likea hopeless man from the horrors and confusions of a lost battle, uponwhich all his hopes did stand--then the wicked must at the day ofjudgment expect strange things and fearful, and such which now nolanguage can express, and then no patience can endure. Then only itcan truly be said that he is inflexible and inexorable. No prayersthen can move Him, no groans can cause Him to pity thee; thereforepity thyself in time, that when the Judge comes thou mayest be one ofthe sons of everlasting mercy, to whom pity belongs as part of thineinheritance, for all else shall without any remorse (except His own)be condemned by the horrible sentence. 

That all may think themselves concerned in this consideration, let usremember that even the righteous and most innocent shall pass througha severe trial. Many of the ancients explicated this severity by thefire of conflagration, which say they shall purify those souls at theday of judgment, which in this life have built upon the foundation(hay and stubble) works of folly and false opinions, states ofimperfection. So St. Augustine's doctrine was: "The great fire atdoomsday shall throw some into the portion of the left hand, andothers shall be purified and represented on the right. " And thesame is affirmed by Origen and Lactantius; and St. Hilary thusexpostulates: "Since we are to give account for every idle word, shallwe long for the day of judgment, wherein we must, every one of us, pass that unwearied fire in which those grievous punishments forexpiating the soul from sins must be endured; for to such as have beenbaptized with the Holy Ghost it remaineth that they be consummatedwith the fire of judgment. " And St. Ambrose adds: "That if any be asPeter or as John, they are baptized with this fire, and he that ispurged here had need to be purged there again. Let him also purify us, that every one of us being burned with that flaming sword, not burnedup or consumed, we may enter into Paradise, and give thanks unto theLord who hath brought us into a place of refreshment. " This opinion oftheirs is, in the main of it, very uncertain; relying upon the senseof some obscure place of Scripture is only apt to represent thegreat severity of the Judge at that day, and it hath in it this onlycertainty, that even the most innocent person hath great need ofmercy, and he that hath the greatest cause of confidence, altho heruns to no rocks to hide him, yet he runs to the protection of thecross, and hides himself under the shadow of the divine mercies: andhe that shall receive the absolution of the blest sentence shallalso suffer the terrors of the day, and the fearful circumstances ofChrist's coming. The effect of this consideration is this: That if therighteous scarcely be saved, where shall the wicked and the sinnerappear? And if St. Paul, whose conscience accused him not, yet durstnot be too confident, because he was not hereby justified, but mightbe found faulty by the severer judgment of his Lord, how shall weappear, with all our crimes and evil habits round about us? If therebe need of much mercy to the servants and friends of the Judge, thenHis enemies shall not be able to stand upright in judgment. 

Let us next consider the circumstances of our appearing and hissentence; and first I consider that men at the day of judgment thatbelong not to the portion of life, shall have three sorts of accusers:1. Christ Himself, who is their judge; 2. Their own conscience, whomthey have injured and blotted with characters of death and fouldishonor; 3. The devil, their enemy, whom they served. 

Christ shall be their accuser, not only upon the stock of those directinjuries (which I before reckoned) of crucifying the Lord ofLife, once and again, etc. , but upon the titles of contempt andunworthiness, of unkindness and ingratitude; and the accusation willbe nothing else but a plain representation of those artifices andassistances, those bonds and invitations, those constrainings andimportunities, which our dear Lord used to us to make it almostimpossible to lie in sin, and necessary to be saved. For it will, itmust needs be, a fearful exprobration of our unworthiness, when theJudge Himself shall bear witness against us that the wisdom of GodHimself was strangely employed in bringing us safely to felicity. Ishall draw a short scheme which, altho it must needs be infinitelyshort, of what God hath done for us, yet it will be enough to shameus. God did not only give His Son for an example, and the Son gaveHimself for a price for us, but both gave the Holy Spirit to assistus in mighty graces, for the verifications of faith, and theentertainments of hope, and the increase and perseverance of charity. God gave to us a new nature, He put another principle into us, a thirdpart of a perfective constitution; we have the spirit put into us, tobe a part of us, as properly to produce actions of a holy life, as thesoul of man in the body does produce the natural. God hath exaltedhuman nature, and made it in the person of Jesus Christ, to sit abovethe highest seat of angels, and the angels are made ministeringspirits, ever since their Lord became our brother. Christ hath by amiraculous sacrament given us His body to eat and His blood to drink;He made ways that we may become all one with Him. He hath given us aneasy religion, and hath established our future felicity upon naturaland pleasant conditions, and we are to be happy hereafter if we sufferGod to make us happy here; and things are so ordered that a man musttake more pains to perish than to be happy. God hath found out rareways to make our prayers acceptable, our weak petitions, the desiresof our imperfect souls, to prevail mightily with God, and to lay aholy violence and an undeniable necessity upon Himself; and God willdeny us nothing but when we ask of Him to do us ill offices, to giveus poisons and dangers, and evil nourishment, and temptations; and Hethat hath given such mighty power to the prayers of His servants, yetwill not be moved by those potent and mighty prayers to do any goodman an evil turn, or to grant him one mischief--in that only God candeny us. But in all things else God hath made all the excellent thingsin heaven and earth to join toward the holy and fortunate effects;for He that appointed an angel to present the prayers of saints, and Christ makes intercession for us, and the Holy Spirit makesintercession for us with groans unutterable, and all the holy men inthe world pray for all and for every one, and God hath instructed uswith scriptures, and precedents, and collateral and direct assistancesto pray, and He encouraged us with divers excellent promises, andparables, and examples, and teaches us what to pray, and how, andgives one promise to public prayer, and another to private prayer, andto both the blessing of being heard. 

Add to this account that God did heap blessings upon us without order, infinitely, perpetually, and in all instances, when we needed and whenwe needed not. He heard us when we prayed, giving us all, and givingus more, than we desired. He desired that we should ask, and yet Hehath also prevented our desires. He watched for us, and at His owncharge sent a whole order of men whose employment is to minister toour souls; and if all this had not been enough, He had given us morealso. He promised heaven to our obedience, a province for a dish ofwater, a kingdom for a prayer, satisfaction for desiring it, gracefor receiving, and more grace for accepting and using the first. He invited us with gracious words and perfect entertainments; Hethreatened horrible things to us if we would not be happy; He hathmade strange necessities for us, making our very repentance to be aconjugation of holy actions, and holy times, and a long succession;He hath taken away all excuses from us; He hath called us fromtemptation; He bears our charges; He is always beforehand with us inevery act of favor, and perpetually slow in striking, and His arrowsare unfeathered; and He is so long, first, in drawing His sword, andanother long while in whetting it, and yet longer in lifting His handto strike, that before the blow comes the man hath repented long, unless he be a fool and impudent; and then God is so glad of an excuseto lay His anger aside, that certainly, if after all this, we refuselife and glory, there is no more to be said; this plain story willcondemn us; but the story is very much longer; and, as our consciencewill represent all our sins to us, so the Judge will represent all HisFather's kindnesses, as Nathan did to David, when he was to make thejustice of the divine sentence appear against him. Then it shallbe remembered that the joys of every day's piety would have been agreater pleasure every night than the remembrance of every night's sincould have been in the morning; that every night the trouble and laborof the day's virtue would have been as much passed and turned to asthe pleasure of that day's sin, but that they would be infinitelydistinguished by the effects. The offering ourselves to God everymorning, and the thanksgiving to God every night, hope and fear, shameand desire, the honor of leaving a fair name behind us, and the shameof dying like a fool, --everything indeed in the world is made to be anargument and an inducement to us to invite us to come to God and besaved; and therefore when this, and infinitely more shall by the Judgebe exhibited in sad remembrances, there needs no other sentence; weshall condemn ourselves with a hasty shame and a fearful confusion, to see how good God hath been to us, and how base we have been toourselves. Thus Moses is said to accuse the Jews; and thus also Hethat does accuse, is said to condemn, as Verres was by Cicero, andClaudia by Domitius her accuser, and the world of impenitent personsby the men of Nineveh, and all by Christ, their Judge. I representthe horror of this circumstance to consist in this, besides thereasonableness of the judgment, and the certainty of the condemnation, it can not but be an argument of an intolerable despair to perishingsouls, when He that was our advocate all our life, shall, in the dayof that appearing, be our Accuser and our Judge, a party against us, an injured person in the day of His power and of His wrath, doingexecution upon all His own foolish and malicious enemies. 

Our conscience shall be our accuser. But this signifies but these twothings: First, That we shall be condemned for the evils that we havedone and shall then remember, God by His power wiping away the dustfrom the tables of our memory, and taking off the consideration andthe voluntary neglect and rude shufflings of our cases of conscience. For then we shall see things as they are, the evil circumstances andthe crooked intentions, the adherent unhandsomeness and the directcrimes; for all things are laid up safely, and tho we draw a curtainof cobweb over them, and a few fig-leaves before our shame, yet Godshall draw away the curtain, and forgetfulness shall be no more, because, with a taper in the hand of God, all the corners of ournastiness shall be discovered. And, secondly, it signifies this also, that not only the justice of God shall be confest by us in our ownshame and condemnation, but the evil of the sentence shall be receivedinto us, to melt our bowels and to break our heart in pieces withinus, because we are the authors of our own death, and our own inhumanhands have torn our souls in pieces. Thus far the horrors are great, and when evil men consider it, it is certain they must be afraid todie. Even they that have lived well, have some sad considerations, andthe tremblings of humility, and suspicion of themselves. I rememberSt. Cyprian tells of a good man who in his agony of death saw afantasm of a noble and angelical shape, who, frowning and angry, saidto him: "Ye can not endure sickness, ye are troubled at the evils ofthe world, and yet you are loath to die and to be quit of them;what shall I do to you?" Altho this is apt to represent every man'scondition more or less, yet, concerning persons of wicked lives, it hath in it too many sad degrees of truth; they are impatient ofsorrow, and justly fearful of death, because they know not how tocomfort themselves in the evil accidents of their lives; and theirconscience is too polluted to take death for sanctuary, and to hopeto have amends made to their condition by the sentence of the day ofjudgment. Evil and sad is their condition who can not be contentedhere nor blest hereafter, whose life is their misery and theirconscience is their enemy, whose grave is their prison and death theirundoing, and the sentence of doomsday the beginning of an intolerablecondition. 

The third sort of accusers are the devils, and they will do it withmalicious and evil purposes. The prince of the devils hath Diabolusfor one of his chiefest appellatives. The accuser of the brethrenhe is by his profest malice and employment; and therefore God, whodelights that His mercy should triumph and His goodness prevail overall the malice of men and devils, hath appointed one whose office isto reprove the accuser and to resist the enemy, and to be a defenderof their cause who belong to God. The Holy Spirit is a defender; theevil spirit is the accuser; and they that in this life belong to oneor the other, shall in the same proportion be treated at the day ofjudgment. The devil shall accuse the brethren, that is, the saintsand servants of God, and shall tell concerning their follies andinfirmities, the sins of their youth and weakness of their age, theimperfect grace and the long schedule of omissions of duty, theirscruples and their fears, their diffidences and pusillanimity, and allthose things which themselves by strict examination find themselvesguilty of and have confest all their shame and the matter of theirsorrows, their evil intentions and their little plots, their carnalconfidences and too fond adherences of the things of this world, theirindulgence and easiness of government, their wilder joys and freermeals, their loss of time and their too forward and apt compliances, their trifling arrests and little peevishnesses, the mixtures of theworld with the thing of the Spirit, and all the incidences ofhumanity he will bring forth and aggravate them by circumstances ofingratitude, and the breach of promise, and the evacuating all theirholy purposes, and breaking their resolutions, and rifling their vows, and all these things, being drawn into an entire representment, andthe bills clogged by numbers, will make the best man in the world seemfoul and unhandsome, and stained with the characters of death and evildishonor. But for these there is appointed a defender. The Holy Spiritthat maketh intercession for us shall then also interpose, and againstall these things shall oppose the passion of our blest Lord, and uponall their defects shall cast the robe of righteousness; and the sinsof their youth shall not prevail so much as the repentance of theirage, and their omissions be excused by probable intervening causes, and their little escapes shall appear single and in disunion, becausethey were always kept asunder by penitential prayers and sighings, andtheir seldom returns of sin by their daily watchfulness, and theiroften infirmities by the sincerity of their souls, and their scruplesby their zeal, and their passions by their love, and all by themercies of God and the sacrifice which their Judge offered and theHoly Spirit made effective by daily graces and assistances. These, therefore, infallibly go to the portion of the right hand, because theLord our God shall answer for them. But as for the wicked, it is notso with them; for altho the plain story of their life be to them asad condemnation, yet what will be answered when it shall be toldconcerning them, that they despised God's mercies, and feared not Hisangry judgments; that they regarded not His Word, and loved notHis excellences; that they were not persuaded by the promises noraffrighted by His threatenings; that they neither would accept Hisgovernment nor His blessings; that all the sad stories that everhappened in both the worlds (in all which Himself did escape till theday of His death, and was not concerned in them save only that He wascalled upon by every one of them, which He ever heard or saw or wastold of, to repentance), that all these were sent to Him in vain? Butcan not the accuser truly say to the Judge concerning such persons, "They were Thine by creation, but mine by their own choice; Thou didstredeem them indeed, but they sold themselves to me for a trifle, orfor an unsatisfying interest; Thou diedst for them, but they obeyedmy commandments; I gave them nothing, I promised them nothing but thefilthy pleasures of a night, or the joys of madness, or the delightsof a disease; I never hanged upon the cross three long hours for them, nor endured the labors of a poor life thirty-three years together fortheir interest; only when they were Thine by the merit of Thy death, they quickly became mine by the demerit of their ingratitude; and whenThou hadst clothed their soul with Thy robe, and adorned them by Thygraces, we stript them naked as their shame, and only put on a robe ofdarkness, and they thought themselves secure and went dancing totheir grave like a drunkard to a fight, or a fly unto a candle; andtherefore they that did partake with us in our faults must divide withus in our portion and fearful interest. " This is a sad story becauseit ends in death, and there is nothing to abate or lessen thecalamity. It concerns us therefore to consider in time that he thattempts us will accuse us, and what he calls pleasant now he shall thensay was nothing, and all the gains that now invite earthly souls andmean persons to vanity, was nothing but the seeds of folly, and theharvest in pain and sorrow and shame eternal. But then, since thishorror proceeds upon the account of so many accusers, God hath put itin our power by a timely accusation of ourselves in the tribunal ofthe court Christian, to prevent all the arts of aggravation which atdoomsday shall load foolish and undiscerning souls. He that accuseshimself of his crimes here, means to forsake them, and looks upon themon all sides, and spies out his deformity, and is taught to hate them, he is instructed and prayed for, he prevents the anger of God anddefeats the devil's malice, and, by making shame the instrument ofrepentance, he takes away the sting, and makes that to be his medicinewhich otherwise would be his death: and, concerning this exercise, Ishall only add what the patriarch of Alexandria told an old religiousperson in his hermitage. Having asked him what he found in thatdesert, he was answered, "Only this, to judge and condemn myselfperpetually; that is the employment of my solitude. " The patriarchanswered, "There is no other way. " By accusing ourselves we shall makethe devil's malice useless, and our own consciences clear, and bereconciled to the Judge by the severities of an early repentance, andthen we need to fear no accusers. 

BAXTER

MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

Richard Baxter, was born in 1615, at Rowton, near Shrewsbury, inEngland. After surmounting great difficulties in securing an educationfor the ministry he was ordained in 1638, in the Church of England, his first important charge being that of Kidderminster, where heestablished his reputation as a powerful evangelical and controversialpreacher. Altho opposed to Cromwell's extreme acts, he became achaplain in the army of the Rebellion. His influence was all on theside of peace, however, and at the Restoration he was appointedchaplain to Charles II. 

Baxter left the Church of England on the promulgation of the Act ofUniformity, and in 1662 retired to Acton in Middlesex, where he wrotemost of his works. The Acts of Indulgence enabled him to return toLondon, where he remained until Judge Jeffreys imprisoned and finedhim on a charge of sedition. He was the most prolific writer andcontroversialist of his day among nonconformists. Baxter left only twoworks which seem likely to be of ever fresh interest, "The Saint'sRest" and "Calls to the Unconverted. " He died in London in 1691. 

BAXTER

1615-1691

MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION

_But they made light of it_. --Matt, xxii. , 5. 

Beloved hearers; the office that God hath called us to is, bydeclaring the glory of His grace, to help under Christ to the savingof men's souls. I hope you think not that I come hither to-day onanother errand. The Lord knows I had not set a foot out-of-doors butin hope to succeed in this work for your souls. I have considered, andoften considered, what is the matter that so many thousands shouldperish when God hath done so much for their salvation; and I find thisthat is mentioned in my text is the cause. It is one of the wonders ofthe 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 themall, and offereth the benefits of it so freely to them, even withoutmoney or price, that yet the most of the world should perish; yea, the most of those that are thus called by His Word! Why, here is thereason--when Christ hath done all this, men make light of it. God hathshowed that He is not unwilling; and Christ hath showed that He is notunwilling that men should be restored to God's favor and be saved; butmen are actually unwilling themselves. God takes not pleasure in thedeath of sinners, but rather that they return and live. But men takesuch pleasure in sin that they will die before they will return. TheLord Jesus was content to be their physician, and hath provided them asufficient plaster of His own blood: but if men make light of it, and will not apply it, what wonder if they perish after all? ThisScripture giveth us the reason of their perdition. This, sadexperience tells us, the most of the world is guilty of. It is a mostlamentable thing to see how most men do spend their care, their time, their pains, for known vanities, while God and glory are cast aside;that He who is all should seem to them as nothing, and that whichis nothing should seem to them as good as all; that God should setmankind in such a race where heaven or hell is their certain end, andthat they should sit down, and loiter, or run after the childish toysof 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 businessas 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 thatcould be imagined. Oh, how should we marvel at their madness, andlament their self-delusion! O poor distracted world! what is it yourun after? and what is it that you neglect? If God had never told themwhat they were sent into the world to do, or whither they weregoing, or what was before them in another world, then they had beenexcusable; but He hath told them over and over, till they were wearyof it. Had He left it doubtful, there had been some excuse; but it isHis sealed word, and they profess to believe it, and would take it illof 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 seeing it is the commonest cause of men's destruction, I supposeyou will judge it the fittest matter for our inquiry, and deservingour greatest care for the cure. To which end I shall, (1) endeavor theconviction of the guilty; (2) shall give them such considerations asmay tend to humble and reform them; (3) I shall conclude with suchdirection as may help them that are willing to escape the destroyingpower of this sin. 

And for the first, consider: It is the case of most sinners to thinkthemselves freest from those sins that they are most enslaved to; andone reason why we can not reform them is because we can not convincethem of their guilt. It is the nature of sin so far to blind andbefool the sinner, that he knoweth not what he doth, but thinketh heis free from it when it reigneth in him, or when he is committing it:it bringeth men to be so much unacquainted with themselves that theyknow not what they think, or what they mean and intend, nor what theylove or hate, much less what they are habituated and disposed to. They are alive to sin, and dead to all the reason, consideration, and resolution that should recover them, as if it were only by theirsinning that we must know that they are alive. May I hope that youthat hear me to-day are but willing to know the truth of your case, and then I shall be encouraged to proceed to an inquiry. God willjudge impartially; why should not we do so? Let me, therefore, bythese following questions, try whether none of you are slightersof Christ and your own salvation. And follow me, I beseech you, byputting them close to your own hearts, and faithfully answering them. 

Things that men highly value will be remembered; they will be matterof their freest and sweetest thoughts. This is a known case. 

Do not those then make light of Christ and salvation that think ofthem so seldom and coldly in comparison of other things? Follow thyown heart, man, and observe what it daily runneth after; and thenjudge whether it make not light of Christ. 

We can not persuade men to one hour's sober consideration what theyshould do for an interest in Christ, or in thankfulness for His love, and yet they will not believe that they make light of Him. 

Things that we highly value will be matter of our discourse; thejudgment and heart will command the tongue. Freely and delightfullywill our speech run after them. This also is a known case. 

Do not those men make light of Christ and salvation that shun themention of His name, unless it be in a vain or sinful use? Those thatlove not the company where Christ and salvation is much talked of, butthink it troublesome, precise discourse: that had rather hear somemerry jests, or idle tales, or talk of their riches or business in theworld; when you may follow them from morning to night, and scarce havea savory word of Christ; but perhaps some slight and weary mentionof Him sometimes; judge whether these make not light of Christ andsalvation. How seriously do they talk of the world and speak ofvanity! but how heartlessly do they make mention of Christ andsalvation!

The things that we highly value we would secure the possession of, and therefore would take any convenient course to have all doubts andfears about them well resolved. Do not those men then make lightof Christ and salvation that have lived twenty or thirty years inuncertainty whether they have any part in these or not, and yet neverseek out for the right resolution of their doubts? Are all that hearme this day certain they shall be saved? Oh, that they were! Oh, hadyou not made light of salvation, you could not so easily bear suchdoubting of it; you could not rest till you had made it sure, or doneyour best to make it sure. Have you nobody to inquire of, that mighthelp you in such a work? Why, you have ministers that are purposelyappointed to that office. Have you gone to them, and told them thedoubtfulness of your case, and asked their help in the judging of yourcondition? Alas! ministers may sit in their studies from one year toanother, before ten persons among a thousand will come to them on suchan errand! Do not these make light of Christ and salvation? When thegospel pierceth the heart indeed, they cry out, "Men and brethren, what shall we do to be saved?" Trembling and astonished, Paul criesout, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" And so did the convincedJews to Peter. But when hear we such questions?

The things that we value do deeply affect us, and some motions will bein the heart according to our estimation of them. O sirs, if men madenot light of these things, what working would there be in the heartsof all our hearers! What strange affections would it raise in them tohear of the matters of the world to come! How would their hearts meltbefore the power of the gospel! What sorrow would be wrought in thediscovery of their sins! What astonishment at the consideration oftheir misery! What unspeakable joy at the glad tidings of salvation bythe blood of Christ! What resolution would be raised in them upon thediscovery of their duty! Oh, what hearers should we have, if it werenot for this sin! Whereas now we are liker to weary them, or preachthem asleep with matters of this unspeakable moment. We talk to themof Christ and salvation till we make their heads ache: little wouldone think by their careless carriage that they heard and regarded whatwe said, or tho we spoke at all to them. 

Our estimation of things will be seen in the diligence of ourendeavors. That which we highliest value, we shall think no painstoo great to obtain. Do not those men then make light of Christ andsalvation that think all too much that they do for them; that murmurat His service, and think it too grievous for them to endure? that askHis service as Judas of the ointment. What need this waste? Can notmen be saved without so much ado? This is more ado than needs. For theworld they will labor all the day, and all their lives; but for Christand salvation they are afraid of doing too much. Let us preach to themas long as we will, we can not bring them to relish or resolve upon alife of holiness. Follow them to their houses, and you shall not hearthem read a chapter, nor call upon God with their families once a day;nor will they allow Him that one day in seven which He hath separatedto His service. But pleasure, or worldly business, or idleness, musthave a part And many of them are so far hardened as to reproach themthat will not be as mad as themselves. And is not Christ worth theseeking? Is not everlasting salvation worth more than all this? Dothnot that soul make light of all these that thinks his ease more worththan they? Let but common sense judge. 

That which we most highly value, we think we can not buy too dear. Christ and salvation are freely given, and yet the most of men gowithout them because they can not enjoy the world and them together. They are called but to part with that which would hinder them Christ, and they will not do it. They are called but to give God His own, andto resign all to His will, and let go the profits and pleasures ofthis world, when they must let go either Christ or them, and they willnot. They think this too dear a bargain, and say they can not sparethese things: they must hold their credit with men; they must lookto their estates: how shall they live else? They must have theirpleasure, whatsoever becomes of Christ and salvation: as if they couldlive without Christ better than without these; as if they were afraidof being losers by Christ, or could make a saving match by losingtheir souls to gain the world. Christ hath told us over and over thatif we will not forsake all for Him we can not be His disciples. Farare these men from forsaking all, and yet will needs think that theyare His disciples indeed. 

That which men highly esteem, they would help their friends to as wellas themselves. Do not those men make light of Christ and salvationthat can take so much care to leave their children portions in theworld, and do so little to help them to heaven? that provide outwardnecessaries so carefully for their families, but do so little to thesaving of their souls? Their neglected children and friends willwitness that either Christ, or their children's souls, or both, weremade light of. 

That which men highly esteem, they will so diligently seek after thatyou may see it in the success, if it be a matter within their reach. You may see how many make light of Christ, by the little knowledgethey have of Him, and the little communion with Him, and thecommunication from Him; and the little, yea, none, of His specialgrace in them. Alas! how many ministers can speak it to the sorrow oftheir hearts, that many of their people know almost nothing of Christ, tho they hear of Him daily! Nor know they what they must do to besaved: if we ask them an account of these things, they answer as ifthey understood not what we say to them, and tell us they are noscholars, and therefore think they are excusable for their ignorance. Oh, if these men had not made light of Christ and their salvation, buthad bestowed but half as much pains to know and enjoy Him as they havedone to understand the matters of their trades and callings in theworld, they would not have been so ignorant as they are: they makelight of these things, and therefore will not be at the pains to studyor learn them. When men that can learn the hardest trade in a fewyears have not learned a catechism, nor how to understand theircreed, under twenty or thirty years' preaching, nor can abide tobe questioned about such things, doth not this show that they haveslighted them in their hearts? How will these despisers of Christ andsalvation be able one day to look Him in the face, and to give anaccount of these neglects?

Thus much I have spoken in order to your conviction. Do not some ofyour consciences by this time smite you, and say, I am the man thathave made light of my salvation? If they do not, it is because youmake light of it still, for all that is said to you. But because, ifit be the will of the Lord, I would fain have this damning distempercured, and am loath to leave you in such a desperate condition, if Iknew how to remedy it, I will give you some considerations, which maymove you, if you be men of reason and understanding, to look betterabout you; and I beseech you to weigh them, and make use of them as wego, and lay open your hearts to the work of grace, and sadly bethinkyou what a case you are in, if you prove such as make light of Christ. 

Consider, 1. Thou makest light of Him that made not light of thee whodeserve it. Thou wast worthy of nothing but contempt. As a man, whatart thou but a worm to God? As a sinner, thou art far viler thana toad: yet Christ was so far from making light of thee and thyhappiness, that He came down into the flesh, and lived a life ofsuffering, and offered Himself a sacrifice to the justice which thouhadst provoked, that thy miserable soul might have a remedy. It is noless than miracles of love and mercy that He hath showed to us; andyet shall we slight them after all?

Angels admire them, whom they less concern, and shall redeemed sinnersmake light of them? What barbarous, yea, devilish--yea, worse thandevilish--ingratitude is this! The devils never had a savior offeredto them; but thou hast, and dost thou yet make light of Him?

2. Consider, the work of man's salvation by Jesus Christ is themasterpiece of all the works of God, wherein He would have His loveand mercy to be magnified. As the creation declareth. His goodness andpower, so doth redemption His goodness and mercy; He hath contrivedthe very frame of His worship so that it shall much consist in themagnifying of this work; and, after all this, will you make light ofit? "His name is wonderful. " "He did the work that none could do. ""Greater love could none show than His. " How great was the evil andmisery that He delivered us from! the good procured from us! All arewonders, from His birth to His ascension; from our new birth to ourglorification, all are wonders of matchless mercy--and yet do you makelight of them?

3. You make light of matters of greatest excellency and moment in theworld: you know not what it is that you slight: had you well known, you would not have done it. As Christ said to the woman of Samaria, "Hadst thou known who it is that speaketh to thee, thou wouldst haveasked of Him the waters of life"; had they known they would not havecrucified the Lord of Glory. So, had you known what Christ is, youwould not have made light of Him; had you been one day in heaven, andbut seen what they possess, and seen also what miserable souls mustendure that are shut out, you would never sure have made so light ofChrist. 

O sirs, it is no trifles or jesting matters that the gospel speaks of. I must needs profess to you that when I have the most serious thoughtsof these things myself, I am ready to marvel that such amazing mattersdo not overwhelm the souls of men; that the greatness of the subjectdoth not so overmatch our understandings and affections as even todrive men besides themselves, but that God hath always somewhatallayed it by the distance; much more that men should be so blockishas to make light of them. O Lord, that men did but know whateverlasting glory and everlasting torments are: would they then hearus 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 suchweighty things delivered, how people can forbear crying out in thecongregation; much more how they can rest till they have gone to theirministers, and learned what they should do to be saved, that thisgreat business might be put out of doubt. Oh, that heaven and hellshould work no more on men! Oh, that everlastingness work no more! Oh, how can you forbear when you are alone to think with yourselves whatit is to be everlastingly in joy or in torment! I wonder that suchthoughts do not break your sleep, and that they come not in your mindwhen you are about your labor! I wonder how you can almost do anythingelse! how you can have any quietness in your minds! How you can eat, or drink, or rest, till you have got some ground of everlastingconsolations! Is that a man or a corpse that is not affected withmatters of this moment? that can be readier to sleep than to tremblewhen he heareth how he must stand at the bar of God? Is that a man ora clod of clay that can rise or lie down without being deeply affectedwith his everlasting estate? that can follow his worldly business andmake nothing of the great business of salvation or damnation; and thatwhen they know it is hard at hand? Truly, sirs, when I think of theweight of the matter, I wonder at the very best of God's saints uponthe earth that they are no better, and do no more in so weighty acase. I wonder at those whom the world accounteth more holy thanneeds, and scorns for making too much ado, that they can put offChrist and their souls with so little; that they pour not out theirsouls in every supplication; that they are not more taken up with God;that their thoughts be more serious in preparation for their account. I wonder that they be not a hundred times more strict in their lives, and more laborious and unwearied in striving for the crown, than theyare. And for myself, as I am ashamed of my dull and careless heart, and of my slow and unprofitable course of life, so the Lord knows I amashamed of every sermon that I preach: when I think what I have beenspeaking of, and who sent me, and that men's salvation or damnation isso much concerned in it, I am ready to tremble lest God should judgeme as a slighter of His truth and the souls of men, and lest in thebest sermon I should be guilty of their blood. Methinks we should notspeak a word to men in matters of such consequence without tears, orthe greatest earnestness that possibly we can: were not we too muchguilty of the sin which we reprove, it would be so. Whether we arealone, or in company, methinks our end, and such an end, should stillbe in our mind, and before our eyes; and we should sooner forgetanything, and set light by anything, or by all things, than by this. 

Consider, 4. Who is it that sends this weighty message to you? Is itnot God Himself? Shall the God of heaven speak and men make light ofit? You would not slight the voice of an angel or a prince. 

5. Whose salvation is it that you make light of? Is it not your own?Are you no more near or dear to yourselves than to make light of yourown happiness or misery? Why, sirs, do you not care whether you besaved or damned? Is self-love lost? are you turned your own enemies?As he that slighteth his meat doth slight his life, so if you slightChrist, whatsoever you may think, you will find it was your ownsalvation that you slighted. Hear what He saith, "All they that hateme love death. "

6. Your sin is greater, in that you profess to believe the gospelwhich you make so light of. For a profest infidel to do it thatbelieves not that ever Christ died, or rose again, or doth not believethat there is a heaven or hell, this were no such marvel--but for you, that make it your creed, and your very religion, and call yourselvesChristians, and have been baptized into this faith, and seemed tostand to it, this is the wonder, and hath no excuse. What! believethat you shall live in endless joy or torment, and yet make no more ofit to escape torment, and obtain that joy! What! believe that God willshortly judge you, and yet make no preparation for it! Either sayplainly, I am no Christian, I do not believe these wonderful things, I will believe nothing but what I see, or else let your hearts beaffected with your belief, and live as you say you do believe. What doyou think when you repeat the creed, and mention Christ's judgment andeverlasting life?

7. What are these things you set so much by as to prefer them beforeChrist and the saving of your soul? Have you found a better friend, agreater and a surer happiness than this? Good Lord! what dung is itthat men make so much of, while they set so light by everlastingglory? What toys are they that are daily taken up with, while mattersof life and death are neglected? Why, sirs, if you had every one akingdom in your hopes, what were it in comparison of the everlastingkingdom? I can not but look upon all the glory and dignity of thisworld, lands and lordships, crowns and kingdoms, even as on somebrain-sick, beggarly fellow, that borroweth fine clothes, and playsthe part of a king or a lord for an hour on a stage, and then comesdown, and the sport is ended, and they are beggars again. Were it notfor God's interest in the authority of magistrates, or for the servicethey might do Him, I should judge no better of them. For, as to theirown glory, it is but a smoke: what matter is it whether you live pooror rich, unless it were a greater matter to die rich than it is? Youknow well 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? IsDives, then, any better than Lazarus? Oh, that men knew what poor, deceiving shadow they grasp at while they let go the everlastingsubstance! The strongest, and richest, and most voluptuous sinners dobut lay in fuel for their sorrows, while they think they are gatheringtogether a treasure. Alas! they are asleep, and dream that they arehappy; but when they awake, what a change will they find! Their crownis made of thorns; their pleasure hath such a sting as will stick inthe heart through all eternity, except unfeigned repentance do preventit. Oh, how sadly will these wretches be convinced ere long, what afoolish bargain they made in selling Christ and their salvation forthese trifles! Let your farms and merchandise, then, save you, if theycan, and do that for you that Christ would have done. Cry then toBaal, to save thee! Oh, what thoughts have drunkards and adulterers, etc. , of Christ, that will not part with the basest lust for Him? "Fora piece of bread, " saith Solomon, "such men do transgress. "

8. To set so light by Christ and salvation is a certain mark that thouhast no part in them, and if thou so continue, that Christ will setas light by thee: "Those that honor him he will honor, and those thatdespise him shall be lightly esteemed. " Thou wilt feel one day thatthou canst not live without Him; thou wilt confess then thy need ofHim; and then thou mayest go look for a savior where thou wilt; for Hewill be no Savior for thee hereafter, that wouldst not value Him, andsubmit to Him here. Then who will prove the loser by thy contempt? Oh, what a thing will it be for a poor miserable soul to cry to Christ forhelp in the day of extremity, and to hear so sad an answer as this!Thou didst set lightly by Me and My law in the day of thy prosperity, and I will now set as light by thee in the day of thy adversity. Read Prov. I. , 24, to the end. Thou that, as Esau, didst sell thybirthright for a mess of pottage, shalt then find no place forrepentance, tho thou seek it with tears. Do you think that Christ shedHis blood to save them that continue to make light of it? and to savethem, that value a cup of drink or a lust before His salvation? I tellyou, sirs, tho you set so light by Christ and salvation, God doth notso: He will not give them on such terms as these: He valueth the bloodof His Son, and the everlasting glory, and He will make you value themif ever you have them. Nay, this will be thy condemnation, and leavethno remedy. All the world can not save him that sets lightly by Christ. None of them shall taste of His supper. Nor can you blame Him to denyyou what you made light of yourselves. Can you find fault if you missof the salvation which you slighted?

9. The time is near when Christ and salvation will not be made lightof as now they are. When God hath shaken those careless souls out oftheir bodies, and you must answer for all your sins in your own name, oh, then, what would you not give for a Savior! When a thousand billsshall be brought in against you, and none to relieve you, then youwill consider, Oh! Christ would now have stood between me and thewrath of God; had I not despised Him, He would have answered all. When you see the world hath left you, and your companions in sin havedeceived themselves and you, and all your merry days are gone, thenwhat would you not give for that Christ and salvation that now youaccount not worth your labor! Do you think that when you see thejudgment seat, and you are doomed to everlasting perdition for yourwickedness, that you should then make as light of Christ as now? Whywill you not judge now as you know you shall judge then? Will He thenbe worth ten thousand worlds? And is He not now worth your highestestimation 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 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 without the creature hereafter, because the creature is not useful; and he that sets more by thecreature than by Christ, shall have some of the creature withoutChrist here, and neither Christ nor it hereafter. 

So much of these considerations, which may show the true face of thisheinous sin. 

What think you now, friends, of this business? Do you not see by thistime what a case that soul is in that maketh light of Christ andsalvation? What need then is there that you should take heed lest thisshould prove your own case! The Lord knows it is too common a case. Whoever is found guilty at the last of this sin, it were better forthat man he had never been born. It were better for him he had been aTurk or Indian, that never had heard the name of a Savior, and thatnever had salvation offered to him: for such men "have no cloak fortheir sin. " Besides all the rest of their sins, they have this killingsin to answer for, which will undo them. And this will aggravate theirmisery, that Christ whom they set light by must be their Judge, andfor this sin will He judge them. Oh, that such would now consider howthey will answer that question that Christ put to their predecessors:"How will ye escape the damnation of hell" or, "How shall we escape ifwe neglect so great salvation?" Can you escape without a Christ? orwill a despised Christ save you then? If he be accurst that sets lightby father or mother, what then is he that sets light by Christ? It wasthe heinous sin of the Jews, that among them were found such as setlight by father and mother. But among us, men slight the Father ofSpirits! In the name of God, brethren, I beseech you to consider howyou will then bear this anger which you now make light of! You thatcan not make light of a little sickness or want, or of natural death, no, not of a toothache, but groan as if you were undone; how will youthen make light of the fury of the Lord, which will burn against thecontemners of His grace! Doth it not behoove you beforehand to thinkof these things?

Dearly beloved in the Lord, I have now done that work which I cameupon; 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 souldesireth for you. Were it the Lord's will that I might have my wishherein, the words that you have this day heard should so stick by youthat the secure should be awakened by them, and none of you shouldperish by the slighting of your salvation. I can not follow youto your several habitations to apply this word to your particularnecessities; but oh, that I could make every man's conscience apreacher 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 thysalvation? That the next time you are tempted to think hardly of aholy and diligent life (I will not say to deride it as more ado thanneeds), conscience might cry out to thee, Dost thou set so light byChrist and thy salvation? That the next time you are ready to rushupon unknown sin, and to please your fleshly desires against thecommand of God, conscience might cry out, Is Christ and salvation nomore worth than to cast them away, or venture them for thy lust?That when you are following the world with your most eager desires, forgetting the world to come, and the change that is a little beforeyou, conscience might cry out to you, Is Christ and salvation no moreworth than so? That when you are next spending the Lord's day inidleness or vain sports, conscience might tell you what you are doing. In a word, that in all your neglects of duty, your sticking at thesupposed labor or cost of a godly life, yea, in all your cold and lazyprayers and performances, conscience might tell you how unsuitablesuch endeavors are to the reward; and that Christ and salvation shouldnot be so slighted. I will say no more but this at this time, it is athousand pities that when God hath provided a Savior for the world, and when Christ hath suffered so much for their sins, and made so fulla satisfaction to justice, and purchased so glorious a kingdom forHis saints, and all this is offered so freely to sinners, to lost, unworthy sinners, even for nothing, that yet so many millions shouldeverlastingly perish because they make light of their Savior andsalvation, and prefer the vain world and their lusts before them. Ihave delivered my message, the Lord open your hearts to receive it. I have persuaded you with the word of truth and soberness; the Lordpersuade you more effectually, or else all this is lost. Amen. 

BOSSUET

THE FUNERAL SERMON ON THE DEATH OF THE GRANDE CONDÉ

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

Jacque Benigne Bossuet was born at Dijon, in Burgundy, in 1627. In anillustrious group of French Catholic preachers he occupied a foremostplace. In beginning his sermons he was reserved and dignified, but ashe moved forward and his passionate utterance captured his hearers, "he watched their rising emotion, the rooted glances of a thousandeyes filled him with a sort of divine frenzy, his notes became aburden and a hindrance, and with impetuous ardor he abandoned himselfto the inspiration of the moment. "

To ripe scholarship Bossuet added a voice that was deep and sonorous, an imposing personality, and an animated and graceful style ofgesture. Lamartine says he had "a voice which, like that of thethunder in the clouds, or the organ in the cathedral, had never beenanything but the medium of power and divine persuasion to the soul; avoice which only spoke to kneeling auditors; a voice which spoke inthe name of God, an authority of language unequaled upon earth, and against which the lowest murmur was impious and the smallestopposition blasphemy. " He died in 1704. 

BOSSUET 1627-1704

THE FUNERAL SERMON ON THE DEATH OF THE GRANDE CONDÉ

In beginning this address, in which I purpose to celebrate theimmortal glory of Louis de Bourbon, Prince de Condé, I feel myselfoverweighted both by the grandeur of the subject and, to be frank, bythe fruitlessness of the effort. What part of the inhabited world hasnot heard of the victories of the Prince de Condé and the wonders ofhis life? They are recounted everywhere; the Frenchman who boasts ofthem in the presence of the foreigner tells him nothing which thelatter does not know; and in no matter how exalted a strain I mightsound his praises, I should still feel that in your hearts you wereconvinced that I deserved the reproach of falling far short of doinghim justice. An orator, feeble as he is, can not do anything for theperpetuation of the glory of extraordinary souls. Le Sage was rightwhen he said that "their deeds alone can praise them"; no other praiseis of any effect where great names are concerned; and it needs but thesimple story of his deeds faithfully recorded to sustain the glory ofthe Prince de Condé. 

But, while awaiting the appearance of the history which is to tell thestory of his life to coming ages, it is necessary to satisfy as bestwe may the public recognition of his merit and bow to the order of thegreatest of all sovereigns. What does not the kingdom owe to a princewho has honored the house of France, the French name, his century, and, so to speak, all mankind? Louis the Great himself shares thesesentiments; after having mourned this great man, and by his tears, shed in the presence of his entire court, rather than by words, uttered the most glorious eulogy he could receive, he assembledtogether in this celebrated temple all that is most august in hisrealm, in order that the last rites to the memory of this prince mightthere be celebrated; and he wishes that my feeble voice should animateall this funeral equipage. Let us try, then, to forget our grief. Herean object greater and worthier of this pulpit presents itself to mymind: it is God, who makes warriors and conquerors. "It is Thou, " saidDavid unto Him, "who hast trained my hand to battle, and my fingers tohold the sword. " If He inspires courage, no less is He the bestower ofother great qualities, both of heart and of mind. His mighty hand isthe source of everything; it is He who sends from heaven generoussentiments, wise counsels and every worthy thought. But He wishesus to know how to distinguish between the gifts He abandons to Hisenemies and those He reserves for His servants. What distinguishes Hisfriends from all others is piety. Until this gift of heaven has beenreceived, all others not only are as naught, but even bring ruin onthose who are endowed with them; without this inestimable gift ofpiety what would the Prince de Condé have been, even with his greatheart and great genius? No, my brethren, if piety had not, as it were, consecrated his other virtues, these princes would have found noconsolation for their grief, nor this pontiff any confidence in hisprayers, nor would I myself utter with conviction the praises which Iowe so great a man. 

Let us, by this example, then set human glory at naught; let usdestroy the idol of the ambitious, that it might fall to pieces beforethis altar. Let us to-day join together (for with a subject so noblewe may do it) all the finest qualities of a superior nature; and, forthe glory of truth, let us demonstrate, in a prince admired of theuniverse, that what makes heroes, that what carries to the highestpitch worldly glory, worth, magnanimity, natural goodness--allattributes of the heart; vivacity, penetration, grandeur and sublimityof genius--attributes of the mind; would be but an illusion were pietynot a part of them--in a word, that piety is the essence of the man. It is this, gentlemen, which you will see in the forever memorablelife of the most high and mighty Prince Louis de Bourbon, Prince deCondé, first prince of the blood. 

God has revealed to us that He alone creates conquerors, and that Hemakes them serve His designs. What other created a Cyrus if it isnot God, who named him two hundred years before his birth in theProphecies of Isaiah? "Thou art as yet unborn, " He said unto him, "butI see thee, and I named thee by thy name; thou shalt be called Cyrus. I will walk before thee in battle, at thy approach I will put kings toflight; I will break down doors of brass. It is I that stretch out theheavens, that support the earth, that name that which is not as thatwhich is, " that is to say, it is I that create everything and I thatsee, from eternity, all that I create. What other could fashion anAlexander, if it is not this same God who caused the unquenchableardor of Daniel, His prophet, to see from so great a distance and bymeans of foreshadowings so vivid. "Do you see him, " he says, "thisconqueror; with what rapidity he rises from the west by bounds, as itwere, and touches not the earth?"

In the boldness of his leaps, and the lightness of his tread like untosome powerful and frisking beast, he advances by quick and impetuousbounds, and nor mountain nor precipice arrests his progress. Alreadyhas the King of Persia fallen into his hands. "At his sight he wasexasperated; _efferatus est in eum_, " says the prophet; "he strikeshim down, he tramples him under foot; none can save him from his blowsnor cheat him of his prey. " But to hear these words of Daniel, whomwould you suppose you perceived, gentlemen, under that figure ofspeech--Alexander or the Prince de Condé? God gave him that dauntlessvalor that France might enjoy safety during the minority of a king butfour years old. Let him grow up, this king, cherished of Heaven, andall will yield to his exploits; rising above his own followers, aswell as his enemies, he will know how sometimes to make use of, andat others to dispense with, his most illustrious captains, and alone, under the hand of God, who will be his constant aid, he will be seento be the stanch rampart of his dominions. But God chose the Ducd'Enghien to defend him in his infancy. So, toward the first days ofhis reign, at the age of twenty-two years, the duke conceived a planin the armor of which the seasoned veterans could find no vulnerablepoint; but victory justified his course at Rocroi. The opposing force, it is true, is stronger; it is composed of those old Walloon, Italianand Spanish regiments that, up to that time, could not be broken; butat what valuation should be placed the courage inspired in our troopsby the pressing necessities of the state, by past successes, and bya young prince of the blood in whose eyes could be read victory? DonFrancisco de Mellos awaits the onset with a firm foot; and, withoutbeing able to retreat, the two generals and the two armies seemed tohave wished to imprison themselves in the woods and the marshes inorder to decide the issue of combat like two champions in the lists. 

Then what a sight is presented to the eye! the young prince appearsanother man; touched by an object so worthy, his great soul displaysall its sublimity; his courage waxes with the dangers it has toencounter, and his penetration becomes keener as his ardor increases. That night, which had to be spent in the presence of the enemy, likethe vigilant commander that he was, he was the last to retire. Butnever were his slumbers more peaceful. On the eve of so momentousa day, when the first battle is to be fought, his mind is entirelytranquil, so thoroughly is he in his element; and it is well knownthat on the morrow, at the hour he had indicated, it was necessary toawaken this second Alexander from a deep slumber. Do you see him ashe rushes on to victory or death? No sooner had he inspired the rankswith the ardor with which his soul was animated than he was seenalmost at the same time to press the right wing of the enemy, supportour own shaken by the shock of the charge, rally the disheartenedand almost vanquished French forces, put to flight the victoriousSpaniards, carrying dismay everywhere, and terrifying by his lightningglances those who escape his blows. There still remained that dreadedinfantry of the Spanish army, whose great battalions in close line ofbattle like so many towers, but towers which knew how to repair theirbreaches, were unshaken by the onset, and, tho the rest of the armywas put to rout, maintained a steady fire. Thrice the young conquerorattempted to break the ranks of these intrepid warriors, thrice washe repulsed by the valorous Comte de Fontaines, who was borne tothe scene of combat in his invalid's chair, by reason of his bodilyinfirmities, thus demonstrating that the warrior's soul has theascendant over the body it animates. 

But at last was he forced to yield. In vain does Beck, with a body offresh cavalry, hasten his march through the woods in order to attackour exhausted soldiers; the prince has forestalled him; the defeatedbattalions are asking quarter. But victory for the Duc d'Enghien wasdestined to be more terrible than the combat. While with an airof confidence he advances to receive the surrender of these bravefellows, they, on their part, still on their guard, are in dread ofbeing surprized by a fresh attack. The frightful havoc wrought by thedischarge of their musketry infuriates our troops. Carnage is nowrampant; the bloodshed intoxicates the soldiers to a high degree. Butthe prince, who could not bear to see these lions slaughtered like somany lambs, calmed their overwrought feeling and enhanced the pleasureof victory by that of pardoning the vanquished. What, then, was theastonishment of these veteran troops and their brave officers whenthey perceived that their only salvation was to give themselves up totheir conqueror! With what wonder did they regard the young prince, whose victory had rendered still more impressive his customary proudbearing, to which, however, his clemency had imparted a new grace. How willingly would he have saved the life of the brave Comte deFontaines, but unhappily he lay stretched upon the field of battleamong the thousands of dead bodies, those whose loss is still kept bySpain. Spain knew not that the prince who caused her the loss of somany of her old regiments on the day of Rocroi was to finish the reston the plains of Lens. 

Thus the first victory was the guarantee of many others. The princebent his knee and on the field of battle rendered to the Lord of Hoststhe glory He had sent him. There was celebrated the deliverance ofRocroi, and thanksgivings were uttered that the threats of a oncedreaded enemy had resulted in his own shameful defeat; that theregency was strengthened, France calmed, and a reign which was tobe so illustrious begun by an augury so auspicious. The army ledin thanksgiving; all France followed; the first venture of the Ducd'Enghien was lauded to the skies. Praise sufficient to render othersforever illustrious; but for him it was but the first stage in hiscareer!

As a result of this first campaign, and after the capture ofThionville--a prize worthy of the victory gained at Rocroi--he wasregarded as an adversary equally to be feared in sieges and inbattles. But there is one trait in the character of the victoriousyoung prince no less admirable than that which was brought out byvictory. The court, which at his arrival was prepared to welcome himwith the plaudits he deserved, was surprized at the manner in whichhe received them. The queen-regent assured him that the king was wellpleased with his services. This from the lips of his sovereign wasa fitting recompense for his labors. If others dared to praise him, however, he treated their eulogies as insults, and, impatient offlattery, he was in dread even of its semblance. Such was thedelicacy, or rather the solidity of character, of this prince. Moreover his maxim was (listen, for it is a maxim which makes greatmen), that, in the performance of great deeds, one's sole thoughtshould be to perform them well, and leave glory to follow in the trainof virtue. It is this which he has endeavored to instil into others, and by this principle has he himself ever been guided. Thus falseglory had no temptation for him. It was with truth and greatness alonethat he was concerned. 

Thus it came about that his glory was wrapt up in the service of hiskind and in the happiness and well-being of the state; They were theobjects nearest his heart; these were his first and most cherisheddesires. The court had but little charm for him, or occupation suitedto his talents, tho he was there regarded as its greatest hero. It wasdeemed needful to exhibit everywhere in Germany, as in Flanders, theintrepid defender whom God had given us. Remark well what is about totranspire: There is being formed against the prince an enterprise of amore formidable nature than, that at Rocroi; and, in order to put histalents to the test, warfare is about to drain all its resources, andcall to its aid every known invention. What is it that is presentedto my vision? I see not merely men to meet in combat but inaccessiblemountains: on one side are ravines and precipices; on the otherimpenetrable forests in the heart of which are marshes, and inproximity to streams are impregnable intrenchments; everywhere arelofty fortresses and forests of felled trees lying across roads whichare frightful; and there arises Merci, with his worthy Bavariansinflated by the large measure of success which has fallen to theirarms and by the capture of Fribourg; Merci, whom none has ever seenretreat from the combat; Merci, whom the Prince de Condé and thevigilant Turenne have never surprized in a movement that was not inaccord with the rales of warfare, and to whom they have conceded thisgreat mark of admiration--that never has he lost a single favorableopportunity, nor failed to anticipate their designs as tho he hadtaken part in their councils. 

Here, then, in the course of eight days, and by four separate attacks, is seen how much can be supported and undertaken in war. Our troopsseem as much dispirited by the frightful condition of the field ofbattle as by the resistance of the enemy, and for a time the princesees himself, so to speak, abandoned. But like a second Maccabee, "his right arm abandons him not, and his courage, inflamed by so manyperils, came to his aid. " No sooner had he been seen on foot the firstto scale those inaccessible heights, than his ardor drew the wholearmy after him. Merci sees himself lost beyond redemption; his bestregiments are defeated; nightfall is the salvation of the remainder ofhis army. But a severe rainstorm serves to add to our difficulties anddiscouragements, so that we have at the same time to contend with notonly the highest courage and the perfection of art, but the forces ofnature as well. In spite of the advantage that an enemy, as able as heis bold, takes of these conditions, and the fact that he intrencheshimself anew in his impregnable mountains, hard prest on every side, he is forced not only to allow his cannon and baggage to fall a preyto the Duc d'Enghien, but also the country bordering the Rhine. Seehow everything is shaken to its foundation: Philipsburg is in diredistress in ten days, in spite of the winter now close at hand;Philipsburg, which so long held the Rhine captive under our laws, and whose loss the greatest of kings so gloriously retrieved. Worms, Spire, Mayence, Landau, twenty other places I might name, open theirportals: Merci is unable to defend them, and no longer faces hisconqueror. It is not enough; he must fall at his feet, a worthy victimof his valor. Nordlingen will witness his overthrow; it will therebe admitted that it is no more possible to withstand the French inGermany than in Flanders. And all these benefits we will owe to thisself-same prince. God, the protector of France and of a king whom Hehas destined to perform His great works, thus ordains . .. 

It was not merely for a son nor for his family that he had such tendersentiments: I have seen him (and do not think that I here speak interms of exaggeration), I have seen him deeply moved by the perils ofhis friends. Simple and natural as he was, I have seen his featuresbetray his emotions at the story of their misfortunes, and he was everready to confer with them on the most insignificant details as well ason affairs of the utmost importance. In the adjustment of quarrels, hewas ever ready to soothe turbulent spirits with a patience and goodnature that one would little have expected from a disposition soexcitable, nor from a character so lofty. What a contrast to heroesdevoid of human sympathy! Well might the latter command respect andcharm the admiration, as do all extraordinary things, but they willnot win the heart. When God fashioned the heart of man and endowed himwith human affection, He first of all inspired him with the qualityof kindness, like unto the essence of the divine nature itself, as atoken of the beneficent hand that fashioned us. Kindness, therefore, ought to be the mainspring and guide of our heart, and ought at thesame time to be the chief attraction that should, as it were, bea part of our very being, with which to win the hearts of others. Greatness, which is but the result of good fortune, so far fromdiminishing the quality of kindness, is but given one that he mightthe more freely spread broadcast its beneficent effects like a publicfountain, which is but erected that its waters might be scattered tothe sunlight. 

This is the value of a good heart; and the great who are devoid ofthe quality of kindness, justly punished for their disdainfulinsensibility to the misfortunes of their fellows, are foreverdeprived of the greatest blessing of human life--that is to say, ofthe pleasures of society. Never did man enjoy these pleasures morekeenly than the prince of whom I am speaking; never was man lessinspired with the misgiving that familiarity breeds contempt. Is thisthe man who carried cities by storm and won great battles? Verily, heseems to have forgotten the high rank he so well knew how tosustain. Do you not recognize in him the hero, who, ever equable andconsistent, never having to stand on tiptoe to seem taller than he is, nor to stoop to be courteous and obliging, found himself by natureall that a man ought to be toward his fellow, like a majestic andbountiful stream, which peacefully bears into the cities the abundanceit has spread in the fields that it has watered, which gives to alland never rises above its normal height, nor becomes swollen exceptwhen violent opposition is offered to the gentle slope by which itcontinues on its tranquil course. Such, indeed, has also been thegentleness and such the might of the Prince de Condé. Have you asecret of importance? Confide it boldly to the safe-keeping of thisnoble heart; he will reward your confidence by making your affair hisown. To this prince nothing is more inviolable than the sacred rightsof friendship. When a favor is asked of him he acts as tho he himselfwere under obligation; and never has a joy keener and truer beenwitnessed than he felt at being able to give pleasure to another. 

It was a grand spectacle to see during the same period, and in thesame campaigns, these two men, who in the common opinion of all Europecould be favorably compared to the greatest captains of past ages, sometimes at the head of different bodies of troops; sometimes unitedmore indeed by the concord of their thoughts than by the orders whichthe subaltern received from his superior; sometimes at the head ofopposing forces, and each redoubling his customary activity andvigilance, as tho God, who, according to the Scriptures, often in Hiswisdom makes a sport of the universe, had desired to show mortals thewonders in all their forms that He could work with men. Behold theencampments, the splendid marches, the audacity, the precautions, theperils, the resources of these brave men! Has there ever been beheldin two men virtues such as these in characters so different, not tosay diametrically opposite? The one appears to be guided by deepreflection, the other by sudden illumination; the latter as aconsequence, tho more impetuous, yet never acting with undueprecipitation; the former, colder of manner, tho never slow, is bolderof action than of speech, and even while having the outward appearanceof embarrassment, inwardly determined and resolved. The one, from themoment he appears in the army, conveys an exalted idea of hisworth and makes one expect of him something out of the ordinary;nevertheless, he advanced in regular order, and performed, as itwere, by degrees, the prodigious deeds which marked the course of hiscareer. The other, like a man inspired from the date of his firstbattle, showed himself the equal of the most consummate masters of theart of warfare. The one by his prompt and continued efforts commandedthe admiration of the human race and silenced the voice of envy; theother shone so resplendently from the very beginning that none daredattack him. The one, in a word, by the depth of his genius and theincredible resources of his courage, rose superior to the greatestperils and even knew how to profit by every kind of fickleness offortune; the other, by reason of the advantages derived from highbirth, by his great conceptions derived from Heaven, and by a kind ofadmirable instinct, the secret of which is not given to ordinarymen, seemed born to mold fortune to conform to his designs and bringdestiny to his feet. And that the great tho diverse characters ofthese two men might be clearly discerned, it should be borne in mindthat the one, his career cut short by an unexpected blow, died for hiscountry like another Judas Maccabeus, mourned by the army as for afather, while the court and all the people, lamented his fate. Hispiety as well as his courage were universally lauded, and his memorywill never fade from the minds of men. The other, raised to the verysummit of glory by force of arms like another David, dies like him inhis bed, sounding the praises of God and leaving his dying behests tohis family, while all hearts were imprest as much by the splendor ofhis life as by the gentleness of his death. 

BUNYAN

THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

John Bunyan was born in the village of Elstow, near Bedford, England, in 1628. Because of his fearless preaching he was imprisoned inBedford jail from 1660 to 1672, and again for six months in 1675, during which latter time it is said his wonderful "Pilgrim's Progress"was written. While his sermons in their tedious prolixity share thefault of his time, they are characterized by vividness, epigrammaticwit, and dramatic fervor. The purity and simplicity of his stylehave been highly praised, and his unflinching faith has been theinspiration of many a hesitating soul. Among his best known works are"The Holy War, " "Grace Abounding in the Chief of Sinners, " and "Sighsfrom Hell. " He died in London in 1688. 

BUNYAN

1628-1688

THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN

_So run that ye may obtain_. --I Cor. Ix. , 24. 

Heaven and happiness is that which every one desireth, insomuch thatwicked Balaam could say, "Let me die the death of the righteous, andlet my last end be like his. " Yet, for all this, there are but veryfew that do obtain that ever-to-be-desired glory, insomuch that manyeminent professors drop short of a welcome from God into this pleasantplace. The apostle, therefore, because he did desire the salvation ofthe souls of the Corinthians, to whom he writes this epistle, layeththem down in these words such counsel, which if taken, would be fortheir help and advantage. 

First, Not to be wicked, and sit still, and wish for heaven; but torun for it. 

Secondly, Not to content themselves with, every kind of running, but, saith he, "So run that ye may obtain. " As if he should say, some, because they would not lose their souls, begin to run betimes, theyrun apace, they run with patience, they run the right way. Do you sorun. Some run from both father and mother, friends and companions, and thus, they may have the crown. Do you so run. Some run throughtemptations, afflictions, good report, evil report, that they may winthe pearl. Do you so run. "So run that ye may obtain. "

These words were taken from men's funning for a wager; a very aptsimilitude to set before the eyes of the saints of the Lord. "Know youthat they which run in a race run all, but one obtaineth the prize? Sorun that ye may obtain. " That is, do not only run, but be sure you winas well as run. "So run that ye may obtain. "

I shall not need to make any great ado in opening the words at thistime, but shall rather lay down one doctrine that I do find in them;and in prosecuting that, I shall show you, in some measure, the scopeof the words. 

The doctrine is this: They that will have heaven, must run for it; Isay, they that will have heaven, they must run for it. I beseech youto heed it well. "Know ye not, that they which run in a race run all, but one obtaineth the prize? So run ye. " The prize is heaven, and ifyou will have it, you must run for it. You have another scripturefor this in the xii. Of the Hebrews, the 1st, 2d, and 3d verses:"Wherefore seeing also, " saith the apostle, "that we are compassedabout with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside everyweight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run withpatience the race that is set before us. " And let us run, saith he. Again, saith Paul, "I so run, not as uncertainly: so fight I, " etc. 

But before I go any farther:

1. Fleeing. Observe, that this running is not an ordinary, or anysort of running, but it is to be understood of the swiftest sort ofrunning; and therefore, in the vi. Of the Hebrews, it is called afleeing: "That we might have strong consolation, who have fled forrefuge, to lay hold on the hope set before us. " Mark, who have fled. It is taken from that xx. Of Joshua, concerning the man that was toflee to the city of refuge, when the avenger of blood was hard at hisheels, to take vengeance on him for the offense he had committed;therefore it is a running or fleeing for one's life: a running withall might and main, as we use to say. So run. 

2. Pressing. Secondly, this running in another place is called apressing. "I press toward the mark"; which signifieth, that they thatwill have heaven, they must not stick at any difficulties they meetwith; but press, crowd, and thrust through all that may stand betweenheaven and their souls. So run. 

3. Continuing. Thirdly, this running is called in another place, acontinuing in the way of life. "If you continue in the faith grounded, and settled, and be not moved away from the hope of the gospel ofChrist. " Not to run a little now and then, by fits and starts, orhalf-way, or almost thither, but to run for my life, to run throughall difficulties, and to continue therein to the end of the race, which must be to the end of my life. "So run that ye may obtain. " Andthe reasons are:

(1. ) Because all or every one that runneth doth not obtain the prize;there may be many that do run, yea, and run far too, who yet miss ofthe crown that standeth at the end of the race. You know all that runin a race do not obtain the victory; they all run, but one wins. Andso it is here; it is not every one that runneth, nor every one thatseeketh, nor every one that striveth for the mastery that hath it. "Tho a man do strive for the mastery, " saith Paul, "yet he is notcrowned, unless he strive lawfully"; that is, unless he so run, and sostrive, as to have God's approbation. What, do you think that everyheavy-heeled professor will have heaven? What, every lazy one? everywanton and foolish professor, that will be stopt by anything, keptback by anything, that scarce runneth so fast heavenward as a snailcreepeth on the ground? Nay, there are some professors that do not goon so fast in the way of God as a snail doth go on the wall; and yetthese think that heaven and happiness is for them. But stay, there aremany more that run than there be that obtain; therefore he that willhave heaven must run for it. 

(2. ) Because you know, that tho a man do run, yet if he do notovercome, or win, as well as run, what will they be the better fortheir running? They will get nothing. You know the man that runneth, he doth do it to win the prize; but if he doth not obtain it, he dothlose his labor, spend his pains and time, and that to no purpose; Isay, he getteth nothing. And ah! how many such runners will there befound in the day of judgment? Even multitudes, multitudes that haverun, yea, run so far as to come to heaven-gates, and not able to getany farther, but there stand knocking when it is too late, crying, Lord! Lord! when they have nothing but rebukes for their pains. Departfrom Me, you come not here, you come too late, you run too lazily; thedoor is shut. "When once the master of the house is risen up, " saithChrist, "and hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand without, andto knock, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us, I will say, I know you not, depart, " etc. Oh, sad will the state of those be that run and miss;therefore, if you will have heaven, you must run for it; and "so runthat ye may obtain. "

(3. ) Because the way is long (I speak metaphorically), and there ismany a dirty step, many a high hill, much work to do, a wicked heart, world, and devil to overcome; I say, there are many steps to be takenby those that intend to be saved, by running or walking in the stepsof that faith of our father Abraham. Out of Egypt thou must go throughthe Red Sea; thou must run a long and tedious journey, through thevast howling wilderness, before thou come to the land of promise. 

(4. ) They that will go to heaven they must run for it; because, as theway is long, so the time in which they are to get to the end of it isvery uncertain; the time present is the only time; thou hast no moretime allotted thee than thou now enjoyest: "Boast not thyself ofto-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth. " Do notsay, I have time enough to get to heaven seven years hence; for I tellthee, the bell may toll for thee before seven days more be ended; andwhen death comes, away thou must go, whether thou art provided or not;and therefore look to it; make no delays; it is not good dallying withthings of so great concernment as the salvation or damnation of thysoul. You know he that hath a great way to go in a little time, andless by half than he thinks of, he had need to run for it. 

(5. ) They that will have heaven, they must run for it; because thedevil, the law, sin, death, and hell follow them. There is never apoor soul that is going to heaven, but the devil, the law, sin, death, and hell, make after the soul. "The devil, your adversary, as aroaring lion, goeth about, seeking whom he may devour. " And I willassure you, the devil is nimble, he can run apace, he is light offoot, he hath overtaken many, he hath turned up their heels, and hathgiven them an everlasting fall. Also the law, that can shoot a greatway, have a care thou keep out of the reach of those great guns, theTen Commandments. Hell also hath a wide mouth; it can stretch itselffarther that you are aware of. And as the angel said to Lot, "Takeheed, look not behind thee, neither tarry thou in all the plain" (thatis, anywhere between this and heaven), "lest thou be consumed"; so Isay to thee, Take heed, tarry not, lest either the devil, hell or thefearful curses of the law of God do overtake thee, and throw thee downin the midst of thy sins, so as never to rise and recover again. Ifthis were all considered, then thou, as well as I, wouldst say, Theythat will have heaven must run for it. 

(6. ) They that go to heaven must run for it; because perchance thegates of heaven may be shut shortly. Sometimes sinners have notheaven-gates open to them so long as they suppose; and if they be onceshut against a man, they are so heavy that all the men in the world, nor all the angels in heaven, are not able to open them. "I shut, andno man can open, " saith Christ. And how if thou shouldst come butone quarter of an hour too late? I tell thee, it will cost thee aneternity to bewail thy misery in. Francis Spira can tell thee what itis to stay till the gate of mercy be quite shut; or to run so lazilythat they be shut before you get within them. What, to be shut out!what, out of heaven! Sinner, rather than lose it, run for it; yea, "and so run that thou mayst obtain. "

(7. ) Lastly, because if thou lose, thou losest all, thou losest soul, God, Christ, heaven, ease, peace, etc. Besides, thou layest thyselfopen to all the shame, contempt, and reproach, that either God, Christ, saints, the world, sin, the devil, and all can lay upon thee. As Christ saith of the foolish builder, so I will say of thee, if thoube such a one who runs and misses; I say, even all that go by willbegin to mock at thee, saying, This man began to run well, but was notable to finish. But more of this anon. 

Quest. But how should a poor soul do to run? For this very thing isthat which afflicteth me sore (as you say), to think that I may run, and yet fall short. Methinks to fall short at last, oh, it fears megreatly. Pray tell me, therefore, how I should run. 

Ans. That thou mayst indeed be satisfied in this particular, considerthese following things. 

The first direction: If thou wouldst so run as to obtain the kingdomof heaven, then be sure that thou get into the way that leadeththither: For it is a vain thing to think that ever thou shalt have theprize, tho thou runnest never so fast, unless thou art in the way thatleads to it. Set the case, that there should be a man in London thatwas to run to York for a wager; now, tho he run never so swiftly, yetif he run full south, he might run himself quickly out of breath, andbe never nearer the prize, but rather the farther off? Just so is ithere; it is not simply the runner, nor yet the hasty runner, thatwinneth the crown, unless he be in the way that leadeth thereto. Ihave observed, that little time which I have been a professor, thatthere is a great running to and fro, some this way, and some that way, yet it is to be feared most of them are out of the way, and then, thothey run as swift as the eagle can fly, they are benefited nothing atall. 

Here is one runs a-quaking, another a-ranting; one again runs afterthe baptism, and another after the Independency: here is one forFreewill, and another for Presbytery; and yet possibly most of allthese sects run quite the wrong way, and yet every one is for hislife, his soul, either for heaven or hell. 

If thou now say, Which is the way? I tell thee it is Christ, the Sonof Mary, the Son of God. Jesus saith, "I am the way, the truth, andthe life; no man cometh to the Father but by me. " So then thy businessis (if thou wouldst have salvation), to see if Christ be thine, withall His benefits; whether He hath covered thee with His righteousness, whether He hath showed thee that thy sins are washed away with Hisheart-blood, whether thou art planted into Him, and whether you havefaith in Him, so as to make a life out of Him, and to conform theeto Him; that is, such faith as to conclude that thou art righteous, because Christ is thy righteousness, and so constrained to walk withHim as the joy of thy heart, because he saveth thy soul. And for theLord's sake take heed, and do not deceive thyself, and think thou artin the way upon too slight grounds; for if thou miss of the way, thouwilt miss of the prize, and if thou miss of that I am sure thou wiltlose thy soul, even that soul which is worth more than the wholeworld. 

Mistrust thy own strength, and throw it away; down on thy knees inprayer to the Lord for the spirit of truth; search His word fordirection; flee seducers' company; keep company with the soundestChristians, that have most experience of Christ; and be sure thou havea care of Quakers, Ranters, Free-willers: also do not have too muchcompany with some Anabaptists, tho I go under that name myself. Iwill tell thee this is such a serious matter, and I fear thou wilt solittle regard it, that the thought of the worth of the thing, and ofthy too light regarding of it, doth even make my heart ache whilst Iam writing to thee. The Lord teach thee the way by His Spirit, andthen I am sure thou wilt know it. So run. 

The second direction: As thou shouldst get into the way, so thoushouldst also be much in studying and musing on the way. You know menthat would be expert in anything, they are usually much in studying ofthat thing, and so likewise is it with those that quickly grow expertin any way. This therefore thou shouldst do; let thy study be muchexercised about Christ, which is the way, what He is, what He hathdone, and why He is what He is, and why He hath done what is done; aswhy "He took upon Him the form of a servant" (Phil, ii. ); why He was"made in the likeness of man"; why He cried; why He died; why He"bare the sin of the world"; why He was made sin, and why He was maderighteousness; why He is in heaven in the nature of man, and what Hedoth there. Be much in musing and considering of these things; bethinking also enough of those places which thou must not come near, but leave some on this hand, and some on that hand; as it is withthose that travel into other countries; they must leave such a gate onthis hand, and such a bush on that hand, and go by such a place, wherestandeth such a thing. Thus therefore you must do: "Avoid such things, which are expressly forbidden in the Word of God. " Withdraw thy footfar from her, "and come not nigh the door of her house, for her stepstake hold of hell, going down to the chambers of death. " And so ofeverything that is not in the way, have a care of it, that thou go notby it; come not near it, have nothing to do with it. So run. 

The third direction: Not only thus, but in the next place, thoumust strip thyself of those things that may hang upon thee, tothe hindering of thee in the way to the kingdom of heaven, ascovetousness, pride, lust, or whatever else thy heart may be incliningunto, which may hinder thee in this heavenly race. Men that run fora wager, if they intend to win as well as run, they do not use toencumber themselves, or carry those things about them that may be ahindrance to them in their running. "Every man that striveth forthe mastery is temperate in all things"; that is, he layeth asideeverything that would be anywise a disadvantage to him; as saith theapostle, "Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin that doth soeasily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is setbefore us. " It is but a vain thing to talk of going to heaven, ifthou let thy heart be encumbered with those things that would hinder. Would you not say that such a man would be in danger of losing, thohe run, if he fill his pockets with stones, hang heavy garments onhis shoulders, and get lumpish shoes on his feet? So it is here;thou talkest of going to heaven, and yet fillest thy pockets withstones--_i. E. _, fillest thy heart with this world, lettest that hangon thy shoulders, with its profits and pleasures. Alas! alas! thou artwidely mistaken: if thou intendest to win, thou must strip, thou mustlay aside every weight, thou must be temperate in all things. Thoumust so run. 

The fourth direction: Beware of by-paths; take heed thou dost not turninto those lanes which lead out of the way. There are crooked paths, paths in which men go astray, paths that lead to death and damnation, but take heed of all those. Some of them are dangerous because ofpractise, some because of opinion, but mind them not; mind the pathbefore thee, look right before thee, turn neither to the right handnor to the left, but let thine eyes look right on, even rightbefore thee; "Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways beestablished. " Turn not to the right hand nor to the left. "Remove thyfoot far from evil. " This counsel being not so seriously taken asgiven, is the reason of that starting from opinion to opinion, reelingthis way and that way, out of this lane into that lane, and so missingthe way to the kingdom. Tho the way to heaven be but one, yet thereare many crooked lanes and by-paths that shoot down upon it, as I maysay. And again, notwithstanding the kingdom of heaven be the biggestcity, yet usually those by-paths are most beaten, most travelers gothose ways; and therefore the way to heaven is hard to be found, andas hard to be kept in, by reason of these. Yet, nevertheless, it is inthis case as it was with the harlot of Jericho; she had one scarletthread tied in her window, by which her house was known: so it ishere, the scarlet streams of Christ's blood run throughout the way tothe kingdom of heaven; therefore mind that, see if thou do not findthe besprinkling of the blood of Christ in the way, and if thou do, beof good cheer, thou art in the right way; but have a care thou beguilenot thyself with a fancy; for then thou mayst light into any lane orway; but that thou mayst not be mistaken, consider, tho it seem neverso pleasant, yet if thou do not find that in the very middle of theroad there is written with the heart-blood of Christ, that he cameinto the world to save sinners, and that we are justified, tho we areungodly, shun that way; for this it is which the apostle meaneth when, he saith, "We have boldness to enter into the holiest by the bloodof Jesus, by a new and living way which He hath consecrated for us, through the vail--that is to say, His flesh. " How easy a matter it isin this our day, for the devil to be too cunning for poor souls, bycalling his by-paths the way to the kingdom. If such an opinion orfancy be but cried up by one or more, this inscription being set uponit by the devil, "This is the way of God, " how speedily, greedily, and by heaps, do poor simple souls throw away themselves upon it;especially if it be daubed over with a few external acts of morality, if so good. But it is because men do not know painted by-paths fromthe plain way to the kingdom of heaven. They have not yet learned thetrue Christ, and what His righteousness is, neither have they asense of their own insufficiency; but are bold, proud, presumptuous, self-conceited. And therefore, The fifth direction: Do not thou be too much in looking too high inthy journey heavenward. You know men that run a race do not use tostare and gaze this way and that, neither do they use to cast up theireyes too high, lest haply, through their too much gazing with theireyes after other things, they in the mean time stumble and catch afall. The very same case is this: if thou gaze and stare after everyopinion and way that comes into the world, also if thou be pryingovermuch into God's secret decrees, or let thy heart too muchentertain questions about some nice foolish curiosities, thou mayststumble and fall, as many hundreds in England have done, both inranting and quakery, to their own eternal overthrow, without themarvelous operation of God's grace be suddenly stretched forth tobring them back again. Take heed, therefore; follow not that proud, lofty spirit, that, devil-like, can not be content with his ownstation. David was of an excellent spirit, where he saith, "Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty, neither do I exercisemyself in great matters, or things too high for me. Surely I havebehaved and quieted myself as a child that is weaned of his mother: Mysoul is even as a weaned child. " Do thou so run. 

The sixth direction: Take heed that you have not an ear open to everyone that calleth after you as you are in your journey. Men that run, you know, if any do call after them, saying, I would speak with you, or go not too fast and you shall have my company with you, if they runfor some great matter, they use to say, Alas! I can not stay, I amin haste, pray talk not to me now; neither can I stay for you, I amrunning for a wager: if I win I am made; if I lose I am undone, and therefore hinder me not. Thus wise are men when they run forcorruptible things, and thus shouldst thou do, and thou hast morecause to do so than they, forasmuch as they run for things that lastnot, but thou for an incorruptible glory. I give thee notice of thisbetimes, knowing that thou shalt have enough call after thee, even thedevil, sin, this world, vain company, pleasures, profits, esteem amongmen, ease, pomp, pride, together with an innumerable company of suchcompanions; one crying, Stay for me; the other saying, Do not leave mebehind; a third saying, And take me along with you. What, will you go, saith the devil, without your sins, pleasures, and profits? Are you sohasty? Can you not stay and take these along with you? Will youleave your friends and companions behind you? Can you not do as yourneighbors do, carry the world, sin, lust, pleasure, profit, esteemamong men, along with you? Have a care thou do not let thine ear opento the tempting, enticing, alluring, and soul-entangling flatteriesof such sink-souls as these are. "My son, " saith Solomon, "if sinnersentice thee, consent thou not. "

You know what it cost the young man whom Solomon speaks of in the vii. Of the Proverbs, that was enticed by a harlot: "With much fair speechshe won him, and caused him to yield, with the flattering of her lipsshe forced him, till he went after her as an ox to the slaughter, oras a fool to the correction of the stocks"; even so far, "till thedart struck through his liver, " and he knew not "that it was for hislife. " "Hearken unto me now therefore, " saith he, "O ye children, andattend to the words of my mouth, let not thine heart incline to herways, go not astray in her paths, for she hast cast down many wounded, yea, many strong men have been slain (that is, kept out of heaven); byher house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death. "Soul, take this counsel, and say, Satan, sin, lust, pleasure, profit, pride, friends, companions, and everything else, let me alone, standoff, come not nigh me, for I am running for heaven, for my soul, forGod, for Christ, from hell and everlasting damnation; if I win, I winall; and if I lose, I lose all; let me alone, for I will not hear. Sorun. 

The seventh direction: In the next place be not daunted tho thoumeetest with never so many discouragements in thy journey thither. That man that is resolved for heaven, if Satan can not win him byflatteries, he will endeavor to weaken him by discouragements; saying, Thou art a sinner, thou hath broken God's law, thou art not elected, thou cometh too late, the day of grace is passed, God doth not carefor thee, thy heart is naught, thou art lazy, with a hundred otherdiscouraging suggestions. And thus it was with David where he saith, "I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the loving-kindness ofthe Lord in the land of the living. " As if he should say, the devildid so rage, and my heart was so base, that had I judged accordingto my own sense and feeling, I had been absolutely distracted; but Itrusted to Christ in the promise, and looked that God would be as goodas his promise, in having mercy upon me, an unworthy sinner; and thisis that which encouraged me, and kept me from fainting. And thus mustthou do when Satan or the law, or thy own conscience, do go about todishearten thee, either by the greatness of thy sins, the wickednessof thy heart, the tediousness of the way, the loss of outwardenjoyments, the hatred that thou wilt procure from the world or thelike; then thou must encourage thyself with the freeness of thepromises, the tender-heartedness of Christ, the merits of His blood, the freeness of His invitations to come in, the greatness of the sinof others that have been pardoned, and that the same God, through thesame Christ, holdeth forth the same grace as free as ever. If these benot thy meditations, thou wilt draw very heavily in the way of heaven, if thou do not give up all for lost, and so knock off from followingany farther; therefore, I say, take heart in thy journey, and say tothem that seek thy destruction, "Rejoice not against me, O my enemy, for when I fall I shall arise, when I sit in darkness the Lord shallbe a light unto me. " So run. 

The eighth direction: Take heed of being offended at the cross thatthou must go by before thou come to heaven. You must understand (as Ihave already touched) that there is no man that goeth to heaven but hemust go by the cross. The cross is the standing way-mark by which allthey that go to glory must pass. 

"We must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of heaven. ""Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall sufferpersecution. " If thou art in thy way to the kingdom, my life for thinethou wilt come at the cross shortly (the Lord grant thou dost notshrink at it, so as to turn thee back again). 

"If any man will come after me, " saith Christ, "let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me. " The cross it stands, and hath stood, from the beginning, as a way-mark to the kingdom ofheaven. You know, if one ask you the way to such and such a place, you, for the better direction, do not only say, This is the way, butthen also say, You must go by such a gate, by such a stile, sucha bush, tree, bridge, or such like. Why, so it is here; art thouinquiring the way to heaven? Why, I tell thee, Christ is the way; intoHim thou must get, into His righteousness, to be justified; and ifthou art in Him, thou wilt presently see the cross, thou must go closeby it, thou must touch it, nay, thou must take it up, or else thouwilt quickly go out of the way that leads to heaven, and turn up someof those crooked lanes that lead down to the chambers of death. 

It is the cross which keepeth those that are kept from heaven. I ampersuaded, were it not for the cross, where we have one professor weshould have twenty; but this cross, that is it which spoileth all. 

The ninth direction: Beg of God that He would do these two things forthee: First, enlighten thine understanding: And, secondly, inflame thywill. If these two be but effectually done, there is no fear but thouwilt go safe to heaven. 

One of the great reasons why men and women do so little regard theother world is because they see so little of it: And the reason whythey see so little of it is because they have their understandingdarkened: And therefore, saith Paul, "Do not you believers walk asdo other Gentiles, even in the vanity of their minds, having theirunderstanding darkened, being alienated from the life of God throughthe ignorance (or foolishness) that is in them, because of theblindness of their heart. " Walk not as those, run not with them: alas!poor souls, they have their understandings darkened, their heartsblinded, and that is the reason they have such undervaluing thoughtsof the Lord Jesus Christ, and the salvation of their souls. For whenmen do come to see the things of another world, what a God, whata Christ, what a heaven, and what an eternal glory there is to beenjoyed; also when they see that it is possible for them to have ashare in it, I tell you it will make them run through thick and thinto enjoy it. Moses, having a sight of this, because his understandingwas enlightened, "He feared not the wrath of the king, but choserather to suffer afflictions with the people of God than to enjoy thepleasures of sin for a season. He refused to be called the son ofthe king's daughter"; accounting it wonderful riches to be accountedworthy of so much as to suffer for Christ with the poor despisedsaints; and that was because he saw Him who was invisible, and hadrespect unto the recompense of reward. And this is that which theapostle usually prayeth for in his epistles for the saints, namely, "That they might know what is the hope of God's calling, and theriches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints; and that theymight be able to comprehend with all saints, what is the breadth, andlength, and depth, and height, and know the love of Christ, whichpasseth knowledge. " . .. 

The tenth direction: Cry to God that He would inflame thy will alsowith the things of the other world. For when a man's will is fully setto do such or such a thing, then it must be a very hard matter thatshall hinder that man from bringing about his end. When Paul's willwas set resolvedly to go up to Jerusalem (tho it was signified to himbefore what he should there suffer), he was not daunted at all; nay, saith he, "I am ready (or willing) not only to be bound, but alsoto die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus. " His will wasinflamed with love to Christ; and therefore all the persuasions thatcould be used wrought nothing at all. 

Your self-willed people, nobody knows what to do with them: we use tosay, he will have his own will, do all what you can. Indeed, to havesuch a will for heaven, is an admirable advantage to a man thatundertaketh a race thither; a man that is resolved, and hath his willfixt, saith he, I will do my best to advantage myself; I will do myworst to hinder my enemies; I will not give out as long as I canstand; I will have it or I will lose my life; "tho he slay me, yetwill I trust in him. I will not let thee go except thou bless me. " Iwill, I will, I will, oh this blest inflamed will for heaven! What isit like? If a man be willing, then any argument shall be a matterof encouragement; but if unwilling, then any argument shall givediscouragement; this is seen both in saints and sinners; in them thatare the children of God, and also those that are the children of thedevil. As, 1. The saints of old, they being willing and resolved for heaven, what could stop them? Could fire and fagot, sword or halter, stinkingdungeons, whips, bears, bulls, lions, cruel rackings, stoning, starving, nakedness, etc. , "and in all these things they were morethan conquerors, through him that loved them"; who had also made them"willing in the day of his power. "

2. See again, on the other side, the children of the devil, becausethey are not willing, how many shifts and starting-holes they willhave. I have a married wife, I have a farm, I shall offend mylandlord, I shall offend my master, I shall lose my trading, I shalllose my pride, my pleasures, I shall be mocked and scoffed, thereforeI dare not come. I, saith another, will stay till I am older, till mychildren are out, till I am got a little aforehand in the world, tillI have done this and that and the other business; but, alas! the thingis, they are not willing; for, were they but soundly willing, these, and a thousand such as these, would hold them no faster than the cordsheld Samson, when he broke them like burnt flax. I tell you the willis all: that is one of the chief things which turns the wheel eitherbackward or forward; and God knoweth that full well, and so likewisedoth the devil; and therefore they both endeavor very much tostrengthen the will of their servants; God, He is for making of Hisa willing people to serve Him; and the devil, he doth what he can topossess the will and affection of those that are his with love to sin;and therefore when Christ comes closer to the matter, indeed, saithHe, "You will not come to me. How often would I have gathered you as ahen doth her chickens, but you would not. " The devil had possest theirwills, and so long he was sure enough of them. Oh, therefore cry hardto God to inflame thy will for heaven and Christ: thy will, I say, if that be rightly set for heaven, thou wilt not be beat off withdiscouragements; and this was the reason that when Jacob wrestled withthe angel, tho he lost a limb, as it were, and the hollow of his thighwas put out of joint as he wrestled with him, yet saith he, "I willnot, " mark, "I will not let thee go except thou bless me. " Get thywill tipped with the heavenly grace, and resolution against alldiscouragements, and then thou goest full speed for heaven; butif thou falter in thy will, and be not found there, thou wilt runhobbling and halting all the way thou runnest, and also to be surethou wilt fall short at last. The Lord give thee a will and courage. 

Thus I have done with directing thee how to run to the kingdom; besure thou keep in memory what I have said unto thee, lest thou losethy way. But because I would have thee think of them, take all inshort in this little bit of paper. 

1. Get into the way. 2. Then study on it. 3. Then, strip, and layaside everything that would hinder. 4. . Beware of by-paths. 5. Do notgaze and stare too much about thee, but be sure to ponder the path ofthy feet. 6. Do not stop for any that call after thee, whether it bethe world, the flesh, or the devil: for all these will hinder thyjourney, if possible. 7. Be not daunted with any discouragements thoumeetest with as thou goest. 8. Take heed of stumbling at the cross. 9. Cry hard to God for an enlightened heart, and a willing mind, and Godgive thee a prosperous journey. 

Provocation: Now that you may be provoked to run with the foremost, take notice of this. When Lot and his wife were running from curstSodom to the mountains, to save their lives, it is said, that his wifelooked back from behind him, and she became a pillar of salt; and yetyou see that neither her example, nor the judgment of God that fellupon her for the same, would cause Lot to look behind him. I havesometimes wondered at Lot in this particular; his wife looked behindher, and died immediately, but let what would become of her, Lot wouldnot so much as once look behind him to see her. We do not read that hedid so much as once look where she was, or what was become of her; hisheart was indeed upon his journey, and well it might: there was themountain before him, and the fire and brimstone behind him; his lifelay at stake, and he had lost it if he had looked behind. Do thou sorun and in thy race remember Lot's wife, and remember her doom; andremember for what that doom did overtake her; and remember that Godmade her an example for all lazy runners, to the end of the world; andtake heed thou fall not after the same example. But, If this will not provoke thee, consider thus, 1. Thy soul is thine ownsoul, that is either to be saved or lost; thou shalt not lose my soulby thy laziness. It is thine own soul, thine own ease, thine ownpeace, thine own advantage or disadvantage. If it were my own thatthou art desired to be good unto, methinks reason should move theesomewhat to pity it. But, alas! it is thine own, thine own soul. "Whatshall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world, and lose hisown soul?" God's people wish well to the souls of others, and wilt notthou wish well to thine own? And if this will not provoke thee, thenthink. 

Again, 2. If thou lose thy soul, it is thou also that must bear theblame. It made Cain stark mad to consider that he had not looked tohis brother Abel's soul. How much more will it perplex thee to thinkthat thou hadst not a care of thine own? And if this will not provokethee to bestir thyself, think again. 

3. That, if thou wilt not run, the people of God are resolved to dealwith thee even as Lot dealt with his wife--that is, leave thee behindthem. It may be thou hast a father, mother, brother, etc. , goingpost-haste to heaven, wouldst thou be willing to be left behind them?Surely no. 

Again, 4. Will it not be a dishonor to thee to see the very boys andgirls in the country to have more with them than thyself? It may bethe servants of some men, as the housekeeper, plowman, scullion, etc. , are more looking after heaven than their masters. I am apt to think, sometimes, that more servants than masters, that more tenants thanlandlords, will inherit the kingdom of heaven. But is not this a shamefor them that are such? I am persuaded you scorn that your servantsshould say that they are wiser than you in the things of this world;and yet I am bold to say that many of them are wiser than you in thethings of the world to come, which are of greater concernment. 

Expostulation. Well, then, sinner, what sayest thou? Where is thyheart? Wilt thou run? Art thou resolved to strip? Or art thou not?Think quickly, man; have no dallying in this matter. Confer not withflesh and blood; look up to heaven, and see how thou likest it; alsoto hell, and accordingly devote thyself. If thou dost not know theway, inquire at the Word of God; if thou wantest company, cry forGod's Spirit; if thou wantest encouragement, entertain the promises. But be sure thou begin betimes; get into the way, run apace, and holdout to the end; and the Lord give thee a prosperous journey. Farewell. 

TILLOTSON

THE REASONABLENESS OF A RESURRECTION

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

John Tillotson, archbishop of Canterbury, renowned as a preacher, was born at Sowerby, in Yorkshire, in 1630, the son of an ardentIndependent. After graduating from Clare College, Cambridge, he beganto preach in 1661, in connection with the Presbyterian wing of theChurch of England. He, however, submitted to the Act of Uniformitythe following year, and in 1663 was inducted into the rectory ofVeddington, Suffolk. He was also appointed preacher to Lincoln's Inn, was made prebendary of Canterbury in 1670 and dean in 1672. WilliamIII regarded him with high favor, and he succeeded the nonjuringSancroft in the arch-see of Canterbury. His sermons are characterizedby stateliness, copiousness and lucidity, and were long looked upon asmodels of correct pulpit style. He died in 1694. 

TILLOTSON

1630-1694

THE REASONABLENESS OF A RESURRECTION

_Why should it be thought a thing incredible with you that God shouldraise the dead?_--Acts xxvi. , 8. 

The resurrection of the dead is one of the great articles of theChristian faith; and yet so it hath happened that this great articleof our religion hath been made one of the chief objections againstit. There is nothing that Christianity hath been more upbraided forwithal, both by the heathens of old and by the infidels of latertimes, than the impossibility of this article; so that it is a matterof great consideration and consequence to vindicate our religion inthis particular. But if the thing be evidently impossible, then it ishighly unreasonable to propose it to the belief of mankind. 

I know that some, more devout than wise, and who, it is to be hoped, mean better than they understand, make nothing of impossibilities inmatters of faith, and would fain persuade us that the more impossibleanything is, for that very reason it is the fitter to be believed; andthat it is an argument of a poor and low faith to believe only thingsthat are possible; but a generous and heroical faith will swallowcontradictions with as much ease as reason assents to the plainest andmost evident propositions. Tertullian, in the heat of his zeal andeloquence, upon this point of the death and resurrection of Christ, lets fall a very odd passage, and which must have many grains ofallowance to make it tolerable: "_prosus credible est_ (saith he), _quia ineptum est; certum est, quia impossible_--it is thereforevery credible, because it is foolish, and certain, because it isimpossible"; "and this (says he) is _necessarium dedecus fidei_, " thatis, "it is necessary the Christian faith should be thus disgraced bythe belief of impossibilities and contradictions. " I suppose he meansthat this article of the resurrection was not in itself the lesscredible because the heathen philosophers caviled at it as a thingimpossible and contradictious, and endeavored to disgrace theChristian religion upon that account. For if he meant otherwise, thatthe thing was therefore credible because it was really and in itselffoolish and impossible; this had been to recommend the Christianreligion from the absurdity of the things to be believed; whichwould be a strange recommendation of any religion to the sober andreasonable part of mankind. 

I know not what some men may find in themselves; but I must freelyacknowledge that I could never yet attain to that bold and hardydegree of faith as to believe anything for this reason, because it wasimpossible: for this would be to believe a thing to be because I amsure it can not be. So that I am very far from being of his mind, thatwanted not only more difficulties, but even impossibilities in theChristian religion, to exercise his faith upon. 

Leaving to the Church of Rome that foolhardiness of faith, to believethings to be true which at the same time their reason plainly tellsthem are impossible, I shall at this time endeavor to assert andvindicate this article of the resurrection from the pretendedimpossibility of it. And I hope, by God's assistance, to make thepossibility of the thing so plain as to leave no considerable scrupleabout it in any free and unprejudiced mind. And this I shall do fromthese words of St. Paul, which are part of the defense which he madefor himself before Festus and Agrippa, the substance whereof is this, that he had lived a blameless and inoffensive life among the Jews, inwhose religion he had been bred up; that he was of the strictest sectof that religion, a Pharisee, which, in opposition to the Sadducees, maintained the resurrection of the dead and a future state of rewardsand punishments in another life; and that for the hope of this he wascalled in question, and accused by the Jews. "And now I stand here, and am judged, for the hope of the promise made unto the fathers; untowhich promise our twelve scribes, instantly serving God day and night, hope to come; for which hope's sake, King Agrippa, I am accused of theJews. " That is, he was accused for preaching that Jesus was risen fromthe dead, which is a particular instance of the general doctrine ofthe resurrection which was entertained by the greatest part of theJews, and which to the natural reason of mankind (however the heathenin opposition to the Christian religion were prejudiced against it), hath nothing in it that is incredible. And for this he appeals tohis judges, Festus and Agrippa: "why should it be thought a thingincredible with you that God should raise the dead?"

Which words being a question without an answer, imply in them thesetwo propositions:

First, That it was thought by some a thing incredible that the deadshould be raised. This is supposed in the question, as the foundationof it: for he who asks why a thing is so, supposeth it to be so. 

Secondly, That this apprehension, that it is a thing incredible thatGod should raise the dead, is very unreasonable. For the questionbeing left unanswered, implies its own answer, and is to be resolvedinto this affirmative, that there is no reason why they or any manelse should think it a thing incredible that God should raise thedead. 

I shall speak to these two propositions as briefly as I can; and thenshow what influence this doctrine of the resurrection ought to haveupon our lives. 

First, that it was thought by some a thing incredible that God shouldraise the dead. This St. Paul has reason to suppose, having from hisown experience found men so averse from the entertaining of thisdoctrine. When he preached to the philosophers at Athens, and declaredto them the resurrection of one Jesus from the dead, they were amazedat this new doctrine, and knew not what he meant by it. They said, "heseemeth to be a setter forth of strange gods, because he preached untothem Jesus and the resurrection. " He had discoursed to them of theresurrection of one Jesus from the dead; but this business of theresurrection of one Jesus from the dead was a thing so remote fromtheir apprehensions that they had no manner of conception of it; butunderstood him quite in another sense, as if he had declared to themtwo new deities, Jesus and Anastasis; as if he had brought a new godand a new goddess among them, Jesus and the Resurrection. And when hediscoursed to them again more fully of this matter, it is said that, "when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, they mocked. " And atthe twenty-fourth verse of this twenty-sixth chapter, when he spake ofthe resurrection, Festus told him he would hear him no further, andthat he looked upon him as a man beside himself, whom much learninghad made mad. Festus looked upon this business of the resurrectionas the wild speculation of a crazy head. And indeed the heathensgenerally, even those who believed the immortality of the soul, andanother state after this life, looked upon the resurrection of thebody as a thing impossible. Pliny, I remember, reckons it amongthose things which are impossible, and which God himself can not do;"_revocare defunctos_, to call back the dead to life"; and in theprimitive times the heathen philosophers very much derided theChristians, upon account of this strange doctrine of the resurrection, looking always upon this article of their faith as a ridiculous andimpossible assertion. 

So easy it is for prejudice to blind the minds of men, and torepresent everything to them which hath a great appearance ofdifficulty in it as impossible. But I shall endeavor to show that ifthe matter be thoroughly examined, there is no ground for any suchapprehension. 

I proceed therefore to the second proposition, namely, that thisapprehension, that it is an incredible thing that God should raisethe dead, is very unreasonable: "why should it be thought a thingincredible with you, that God should raise the dead?" That is, thereis no sufficient reason why any man should look upon the resurrectionof the dead as a thing impossible to the power of God; the onlyreason why they thought it incredible being because they judged itimpossible; so that nothing can be vainer than for men to pretend tobelieve the resurrection; and yet at the same time to grant it to be athing in reason impossible, because no man can believe that which hethinks to be incredible; and the impossibility of a thing is the bestreason any man can have to think a thing incredible. So that themeaning of St. Paul's question is, "why should it be thought a thingimpossible that God should raise the dead?"

To come then to the business: I shall endeavor to show that there isno sufficient reason why men should look upon the resurrection of thedead as a thing impossible to God. "Why should it be thought a thingincredible (that is, impossible) with you, that God should raise thedead?" which question implies in it these three things:

1. That it is above the power of nature to raise the dead. 

2. But it is not above the power of God to raise the dead. 

3. That God should be able to do this is by no means incredible tonatural reason. 

First. This question implies that it is above the power of natureto raise the dead; and therefore the apostle puts the question verycautiously, "why should it be thought incredible that God should raisethe dead?" by which he seems to grant that it is impossible to anynatural power to raise the dead; which is granted on all hands. 

Secondly. But this question does plainly imply that it is not abovethe power of God to do this. Tho the raising of the dead to life bea thing above the power of nature, yet why should it be thoughtincredible that God, who is the author of nature, should be able todo this? and indeed the apostle's putting the question in this mannertakes away the main ground of the objection against the resurrectionfrom the impossibility of the thing. For the main reason why it waslooked upon as impossible was, because it was contrary to the courseof nature that there should be any return from a perfect privation toa habit, and that a body perfectly dead should be restored to lifeagain: but for all this no man that believes in a God who made theworld, and this natural frame of things, but must think it veryreasonable to believe that He can do things far above the power ofanything that He hath made. 

Thirdly. This question implies that it is not a thing incredible tonatural reason that God should be able to raise the dead. I do not saythat by natural light we can discover that God will raise the dead;for that, depending merely upon the will of God, can no otherwise becertainly known than by divine revelation: but that God can do thisis not at all incredible to natural reason. And this is sufficientlyimplied in the question which St. Paul asks, in which he appeals toFestus and Agrippa, neither of them Christians, "why should it bethought a thing incredible with you that God should raise the dead?"And why should he appeal to them concerning the credibility of thismatter if it be a thing incredible to natural reason?

That it is not, I shall first endeavor to prove, and then to answerthe chief objections against the possibility of it. 

And I prove it thus: it is not incredible to natural reason that Godmade the world, and all the creatures in it; that mankind is Hisoffspring; and that He gives us life and breath, and all things. Thiswas acknowledged and firmly believed by many of the heathens. Andindeed, whoever believes that the being of God may be known by naturallight, must grant that it may be known by the natural light of reasonthat God made the world; because one of the chief arguments of thebeing of God is taken from those visible effects of wisdom, and power, and goodness, which we see in the frame of the world. Now He that cando the greater can undoubtedly do the less; He that made all things ofnothing, can much more raise a body out of dust; He who at first gavelife to so many inanimate beings, can easily restore that which isdead to life again. It is an excellent saying of one of the Jewishrabbis: He who made that which was not, to be, can certainly make thatwhich was once, to be again. This hath the force of a demonstration;for no man that believes that God hath done the one, can make anydoubt but that He can, if He please, do the other. 

This seems to be so very clear, that they must be strong objectionsindeed, that can render it incredible. 

There are but two that I know of, that are of any consideration, andI shall not be afraid to represent them to you with their utmostadvantage; and they are these:

First, against the resurrection in general: it is pretendedimpossible, after the bodies of men are resolved into dust, tore-collect all the dispersed parts and bring them together, to beunited into one body. 

The second is leveled against a resurrection in some particularinstances, and pretends it to be impossible in some cases only--viz. , when that which was the matter of one man's body does afterward becomethe matter of another man's body; in which case, say they, it isimpossible that both these should, at the resurrection, each have hisown body. 

The difficulty of both these objections is perfectly avoided by thosewho hold that it is not necessary that our bodies at the resurrectionshould consist of the very same parts of matter that they did before. There being no such great difference between one parcel of dust andanother; neither in respect of the power of God, which can easilycommand this parcel of dust as that to become a living body and beingunited to a living soul to rise up and walk; so that the miracle ofthe resurrection will be all one in the main, whether our bodies bemade of the very same matter they were before, or not; nor will therebe any difference as to us; for whatever matter our bodies be made of, when they are once reunited to our souls, they will be then as muchour own as if they had been made of the very same matter of which theyconsisted before. Besides that, the change which the resurrection willmake in our bodies will be so great that we could not know them to bethe same, tho they were so. 

Now upon this supposition, which seems philosophical enough, the forceof both these objections is wholly declined. But there is no need tofly to this refuge; and therefore I will take this article of theresurrection in the strictest sense for the raising of a body to life, consisting of the same individual matter that it did before; and inthis sense, I think, it has generally been received by Christians, notwithout ground, from Scripture. I will only mention one text, whichseems very strongly to imply it: "and the sea gave up the dead whichwere in it; and death and the grave delivered up the dead which, werein them; and they were judged every man according to his works. " Nowwhy should the sea and the grave be said to deliver up their dead, ifthere were not a resurrection of the same body; for any dust formedinto a living body and united to the soul, would serve the turn? Wewill therefore take it for granted that the very same body willbe raised, and I doubt not, even in this sense, to vindicate thepossibility of the resurrection from both these objections. 

First, against the resurrection in general of the same body; it ispretended impossible, after the bodies of men are moldered into dust, and by infinite accidents have been scattered up and down the world, and have undergone a thousand changes, to re-collect and rallytogether the very same parts of which they consisted before. This theheathens used to object to the primitive Christians; for which reasonthey also used to burn the bodies of the martyrs, and to scatter theirashes in the air, to be blown about by the wind, in derision of theirhopes of a resurrection. 

I know not how strong malice might make this objection to appear; butsurely in reason it is very weak; for it wholly depends upon a grossmistake of the nature of God and his providence, as if it did notextend to the smallest things; as if God did not know all things thatHe hath made, and had them not always in His view, and perfectlyunder His command; and as if it were a trouble and burden to infiniteknowledge and power to understand and order the least things; whereasinfinite knowledge and power can know and manage all things with asmuch ease as we can understand and order any one thing; so that thisobjection is grounded upon a low and false apprehension of the Divinenature, and is only fit for Epicurus and his herd, who fancied tothemselves a sort of slothful and unthinking deities, whose happinessconsisted in their laziness, and a privilege to do nothing. 

I proceed therefore to the second objection, which is more closeand pressing; and this is leveled against the resurrection in someparticular instances. I will mention but two, by which all the restmay be measured and answered. 

One is, of those who are drowned in the sea, and their bodies eaten upby fishes, and turned into their nourishment: and those fishes perhapseaten afterward by men, and converted into the substance of theirbodies. 

The other is of the cannibals; some of whom, as credible relationstell us, have lived wholly or chiefly on the flesh of men; andconsequently the whole, or the greater part of the substance of theirbodies is made of the bodies of other men. In these and the likecases, wherein one man's body is supposed to be turned into thesubstance of another man's body, how should both these at theresurrection each recover his own body? So that this objection is likethat of the Sadducees to our Savior, concerning a woman that had sevenhusbands: they ask, "whose wife of the seven shall she be at theresurrection?" So here, when several have had the same body, whoseshall it be at the resurrection? and how shall they be supplied thathave it not?

This is the objection; and in order to the answering of it, I shallpremise these two things:

1. That the body of man is not a constant and permanent thing, alwayscontinuing in the same state, and consisting of the same matter; buta successive thing, which is continually spending and continuallyrenewing itself, every day losing something of the matter which it hadbefore, and gaining new; so that most men have new bodies oftener thanthey have new clothes; only with this difference, that we change ourclothes commonly at once, but our bodies by degrees. 

And this is undeniably certain from experience. For so much as ourbodies grow, so much new matter is added to them, over and beside therepairing of what is continually spent; and after a man come to hisfull growth, so much of his food as every day turns into nourishment, so much of his yesterday's body is usually wasted, and carried off byinsensible perspiration--that is, breathed out at the pores of hisbody; which, according to the static experiment of Sanctorius, alearned physician, who, for several years together, weighed himselfexactly every day, is (as I remember) according to the proportion offive to eight of all that a man eats and drinks. Now, according tothis proportion, every man must change his body several times in ayear. 

It is true indeed the more solid parts of the body, as the bones, donot change so often as the fluid and fleshy; but that they also dochange is certain, because they grow, and whatever grows is nourishedand spends, because otherwise it would not need to be repaired. 

2. The body which a man hath at any time of his life is as much hisown body as that which he hath at his death; so that if the verymatter of his body which a man had at any time of his life be raised, it is as much his own and the same body as that which he had athis death, and commonly much more perfect; because they who die oflingering sickness or old age are usually mere skeletons when theydie; so that there is no reason to suppose that the very matter ofwhich our bodies consists at the time of our death shall be that whichshall be raised, that being commonly the worst and most imperfect bodyof all the rest. 

These two things being premised, the answer to this objection can notbe difficult. For as to the more solid and firm parts of the body, asthe skull and bones, it is not, I think, pretended that the cannibalseat them; and if they did, so much of the matter even of these solidparts wastes away in a few years, as being collected together wouldsupply them many times over. And as for the fleshy and fluid parts, these are so very often changed and renewed that we can allow thecannibals to eat them all up, and to turn them all into nourishment, and yet no man need contend for want of a body of his own at theresurrection--viz. , any of those bodies which he had ten or twentyyears before; which are every whit as good and as much his own as thatwhich was eaten. 

Having thus shown that the resurrection is not a thing incredible tonatural reason, I should now proceed to show the certainty of it fromdivine revelation. For as reason tells us it is not impossible, so theword of God hath assured us that it is certain. The texts of Scriptureare so many and clear to this purpose, and so well known to allChristians, that I will produce none. I shall only tell you that asit is expressly revealed in the gospel, so our blest Savior, for theconfirmation of our faith and the comfort and encouragement of ourhope, hath given us the experiment of it in his own resurrection, which is "the earnest and first-fruits of ours. " So St. Paul tells usthat "Christ is risen from the dead, and become the first-fruits ofthem that slept" And that Christ did really rise from the dead, wehave as good evidence as for any ancient matter of fact which we domost firmly believe; and more and greater evidence than this the thingis not capable of; and because it is not, no reasonable man ought torequire it. 

Now what remains but to conclude this discourse with those practicalinferences which our apostle makes from this doctrine of theresurrection; and I shall mention these two:

The first for our support and comfort under the infirmities andmiseries of this mortal life. 

The second for the encouragement of obedience and a good life. 

1. For our comfort and support under the infirmities and miseries ofthis mortal state. The consideration of the glorious change of ourbodies at the resurrection of the just can not but be a great comfortto us, under all bodily pain and sufferings. 

One of the greatest burdens of human nature is the frailty andinfirmity of our bodies, the necessities they are frequently prestwithal, the manifold diseases they are liable to, and the dangers andterrors of death, to which they are continually subject and enslaved. But the time is coming, if we be careful to prepare ourselves for it, when we shall be clothed with other kind of bodies, free from all themiseries and inconveniences which flesh and blood is subject to. For "these vile bodies shall be changed, and fashioned like to theglorious body of the Son of God. " When our bodies shall be raised to anew life, they shall become incorruptible; "for this corruptible shallput on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality; andthen shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, death isswallowed up in victory. " When this last enemy is conquered, thereshall be no "fleshly lusts" nor brutish passions "to fight against thesoul; no law in our members to war against the laws of our minds"; nodisease to torment us; no danger of death to amaze and terrify us. Then all the passions and appetites of our outward man shall besubject to the reason of our minds, and our bodies shall partake ofthe immortality of our souls. It is but a very little while that ourspirits shall be crusht and clogged with these heavy and sluggishbodies; at the resurrection they shall be refined from all dregs ofcorruption, and become spiritual, and incorruptible, and glorious, andevery way suited to the activity and perfection of a glorified souland the "spirits of just men made perfect. "

2. For the encouragement of obedience and a good life. Let the beliefof this great article of our faith have the same influence upon uswhich St. Paul tells it had upon him. "I have hope toward God thatthere shall be a resurrection of the dead, both of the just andunjust; and herein do I exercise myself always to have a consciencevoid of offense toward God and toward man. " The firm belief of aresurrection to another life should make every one of us very carefulhow we demean ourselves in this life, and afraid to do anything or toneglect anything that may defeat our hopes of a blest immortality, and expose us to the extreme and endless misery of body and soul inanother life. 

Particularly, it should be an argument to us, "to glorify God in ourbodies and in our spirits"; and to use the members of the one andthe faculties of the other as "instruments of righteousness untoholiness. " We should reverence ourselves, and take heed not only howwe defile our souls by sinful passions, but how we dishonor our bodiesby sensual and brutish lusts; since God hath designed so great anhonor and happiness for both at the resurrection. 

So often as we think of a blest resurrection to eternal life, and thehappy consequences of it, the thought of so glorious a reward shouldmake us diligent and unwearied in the service of so good a Master andso great a Prince, who can and will prefer us to infinitely greaterhonors than any that are to be had in this world. This inference theapostle makes from the doctrine of the resurrection. "Therefore, mybeloved brethren, be ye steadfast, immovable, always abounding in thework of the Lord; for as much as ye know that your labor is not invain in the Lord. "

Nay, we may begin this blest state while we are upon earth, by"setting our hearts and affections upon the things that are above, and having our conversation in heaven, from whence also we look for aSavior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change our vile bodies, thatthey may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to theworking whereby he is able to subdue all things to himself. "

"Now the God of peace, who brought again from the dead our Lord JesusChrist, the great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of theeverlasting covenant, make us perfect in every good work to do hiswill, working in us always that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever. Amen. "

HOWE

THE REDEEMER'S TEARS OVER LOST SOULS

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

John Howe, a leading writer and divine under the Commonwealth, wasborn in 1630, at Loughborough, in Leicestershire, England. He waseducated at Cambridge and Oxford, and ordained by Charles Herle, rector of Winwick, whom he styled, "a primitive bishop. " He becamechaplain to Cromwell and his son Richard. Among his contributions toPuritan theology are "The Good Man the Living Temple of God, " and"Vanity of Men as Mortal, " He was a man of intellect and imagination. His sermons, tho often long and cumbersome, are marked by warmth offancy and a sublimity of spirit superior to his style. Howe was aleading spirit in the effort made for the union of the Congregationaland Presbyterian bodies. He died in 1705. 

HOWE

1630-1705

THE REDEEMER'S TEARS OVER LOST SOULS

_And when He was come near, He beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, thethings which belong to thy peace! But now they are hid from thineeyes_. --Luke six. , 41, 42. 

Such as live tinder the gospel have a day, or a present opportunity, for the obtaining the knowledge of those things immediately belongingto their peace, and of whatsoever is besides necessary thereunto. Isay nothing what opportunities they have who never lived under thegospel, who yet no doubt might generally know more than they do, andknow better what they do know. It suffices who enjoy the gospel tounderstand our own advantages thereby. Nor, as to those who do enjoyit, is every one's day of equal clearness. How few, in comparison, have ever seen such a day as Jerusalem at this time did I made bythe immediate beams of the Sun of Righteousness! our Lord Himselfvouchsafing to be their Instructor, so speaking as never man did, andwith such authority as far outdid their other teachers, and astonishedthe hearers. In what transports did He use to leave those that heardHim, wheresoever He came, wondering at the gracious words that cameout of His mouth! And with what mighty and beneficial works was Hewent to recommend His doctrine, shining in the glorious power andsavoring of the abundant mercy of Heaven, so that every apprehensivemind might see the Deity was incarnate. God was come down to entreatwith men, and allure them into the knowledge and love of Himself. TheWord was made flesh. What unprejudiced mind might not perceive it tobe so? He was there manifested and vailed at once; both expressionsare made concerning the same matter. The divine beams were somewhatobscured, but did yet ray through that vail; so that His glory wasbeheld of the only-begotten Son of His Father, full of grace andtruth. 

This Sun shone with a mild and benign, but with a powerful, vivifyinglight. In Him was life, and that life was the light of men. Such alight created unto the Jews this their day. Happy Jews, if they hadunderstood their own happiness! And the days that followed to them(for a while) and the Gentile world were not inferior, in somerespects brighter and more glorious (the more copious gift of theHoly Ghost being reserved unto the crowning and enthroning of thevictorious Redeemer), when the everlasting gospel flew like lightningto the uttermost ends of the earth, and the word which began to bespoken by the Lord Himself was confirmed by them that heard Him, Godalso Himself bearing them witness with signs, and wonders, and giftsof the Holy Ghost. No such day hath been seen this many an age. Yetwhithersoever this same gospel, for substance, comes, it also makes aday of the same kind, and affords always true tho diminished light, whereby, however, the things of our peace might be understood andknown. The written gospel varies not, and if it be but simply andplainly proposed tho to some it be proposed with more advantage, tosome with less, still we have the same things immediately relating toour peace extant before our eyes . .. 

This day hath its bounds and limits, so that when it is over and lostwith such, the things of their peace are forever hid from their eyes. And that this day is not infinite and endless, we see in the presentinstance. Jerusalem had her day; but that day had its period, we seeit comes to this at last, that now the things of her peace are hidfrom her eyes. We generally see the same thing, in that sinners are soearnestly prest to make use of the present time. To-day if you willhear His voice, harden not your hearts. They are admonished to seekthe Lord while He may be found, to call upon Him when He is nigh. Itseems some time He will not be found, and will be far off. They aretold this is the accepted time, this is the day of salvation . .. As itis certain death ends the day of grace with every unconverted person, soit is very possible that it may end with divers before they die; bytheir total loss of all external means, or by the departure of theblest Spirit of God from them; so as to return and visit them no more. 

How the day of grace may end with a person, is to be understood byconsidering what it is that makes up and constitutes such a day. Theremust become measure and proportion of time to make up this (or any)day, which is as the substratum and ground fore-laid. Then there mustbe light superadded, otherwise it differs not from night, which mayhave the same measure of mere time. The gospel revelation some way orother, must be had, as being the light of such a day. And again theremust be some degree of liveliness, and vital influence, the more usualconcomitant of light; the night doth more dispose men to drowsiness. The same sun that enlightens the world disseminates also aninvigorating influence. If the Spirit of the living God do no wayanimate the gospel revelation, and breathe in it, we have no day ofgrace. It is not only a day of light, but a day of power, whereinsouls can be wrought upon, and a people made willing to become theLord's. As the Redeemer revealed in the gospel, is the light of theworld, so He is life to it too, tho neither are planted or do takeroot everywhere. In Him was life and that life was the light of men. That light that rays from Him is vital light in itself, and in itstendency and design, tho it be disliked and not entertained by themost. Whereas therefore these things must concur to make up such aday; if either a man's time, his life on earth, expire, or if lightquite fail him, or if all gracious influence be withheld, so as to becommunicated no more, his day is done, the season of grace is overwith him. Now it is plain that many a one may lose the gospel beforehis life end; and possible that all gracious influence may berestrained, while as yet the external dispensation of the gospelremains. A sinner may have hardened his heart to that degree that Godwill attempt him no more, in any kind, with any design of kindness tohim, not in that more inward, immediate way at all--_i. E. _, by themotions of His Spirit, which peculiarly can impart nothing butfriendly inclination, as whereby men are personally applied unto, so that can not be meant; nor by the voice of the gospel, which mayeither be continued for the sake of others, or they contained underit, but for their heavier doom at length. Which, tho it may seemsevere, is not to be thought strange, much less unrighteous. 

It is not to be thought strange to them that read the Bible, which sooften speaks this sense; as when it warns and threatens men with somuch terror. For if we sin wilfully after that we have received theknowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins, but a fearful looking for judgment, and fiery indignation, which shalldevour the adversaries. He that despised Moses's law died withoutmercy, under two or three witnesses; of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy who hath trodden under foot theSon of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant, wherewith Hewas sanctified, an unholy thing, and hath done despite unto the Spiritof grace? And when It tells us, after many overtures made to men invain, of His having given them up. "But my people would not hearken tomy voice; and Israel would none of me; so I gave them up unto theirown hearts' lust: and they walked in their own counsels;" andpronounces, "Let him that is unjust be unjust still, and let him whichis filthy be filthy still, " and says, "In thy filthiness is lewdness, because I have purged thee, and thou wast not purged; thou shalt notbe purged from thy filthiness any more, till I have caused my fury torest upon thee. " Which passages seem to imply a total desertion ofthem, and retraction of all gracious influence. And when it speaks ofletting them be under the gospel, and the ordinary means of salvation, for the most direful purpose: as that, "This child (Jesus) was setfor the fall, as well as for the rising, of many in Israel"; as that, "Behold, I lay in Zion a stumbling, and a rock of offense"; and, "Thestone which the builders refused, is made a stone of stumbling, anda rock of offense, even to them which, stumble at the word, beingdisobedient, whereunto also they were appointed"; with that of ourSavior Himself, "For judgment I am come into this world, that theywhich see not might see; and that they which see, might be madeblind. " And most agreeable to those former places is that of theprophet, "But the word of the Lord was unto them precept upon precept, line upon line, here a little and there a little; that they might go, and fall backward, and be broken, and snared, and taken. " And we mayadd, that our God hath put us out of doubt that there is such a sin asthat which is eminently called the sin against the Holy Ghost; thata man in such circumstances, and to such a degree, sin against thatSpirit, that He will never move or breathe upon him more, but leavehim to a hopeless ruin; tho I shall not in this discourse determineor discuss the nature of it. But I doubt not it is somewhat else thanfinal impenitency and infidelity; and that every one that dies, nothaving sincerely repented and believed, is not guilty of it, tho everyone that is guilty of it dies impenitent and unbelieving, but wasguilty of it before; so it is not the mere want of time that makeshim guilty. Whereupon, therefore, that such may outlive their day ofgrace, is out of the question . .. 

Wherefore, no man can certainly know, or ought to conclude, concerninghimself or others, as long as they live, that the season of graceis quite over with them. As we can conceive no rule God hath set toHimself to proceed by, in ordinary cases of this nature; so nor isthere any He hath set unto us to judge by, in this case. It were to nopurpose, and could be of no use to men to know so much; therefore itwere unreasonable to expect God should have settled and declared anyrule, by which they might come to the knowledge of it. As the case isthen, viz. : there being no such rule, no such thing can be concluded;for who can tell what an arbitrary, sovereign, free agent will do, ifhe declare not his own purpose himself? How should it be known, whenthe Spirit of God hath been often working upon the soul of man, thatthis or that shall be the last act, and that he will never put forthanother? And why should God make it known? To the person himself whosecase it is, 'tis manifest it could be of no benefit. Nor is it tobe thought the Holy God will ever so alter the course of His ownproceedings but that it shall be finally seen to all the world thatevery man's destruction was entirely, and to the last, of himself. IfGod had made it evident to a man that he were finally rejected, hewere obliged to believe it. But shall it ever be said, God hath madeanything a man's duty which were inconsistent with his felicity. Thehaving sinned himself into such a condition wherein he is forsakenof God is indeed inconsistent with it. And so the case is tostand--_i. E. _, that his perdition be in immediate connection withhis sin, not with his duty; as it would be in immediate, necessaryconnection with his duty, if he were bound to believe himself finallyforsaken and a lost creature. For that belief makes him hopeless, anda very devil, justifies his unbelief in the gospel, toward himself, byremoving and shutting up, toward himself, the object of such a faith, and consequently brings the matter to this state that he perishes, notbecause he doth not believe God reconcilable to man, but because, withparticular application to himself, he ought not so to believe. And itwere most unfit, and of very pernicious consequence, that such a thingshould be generally known concerning others. .. . 

But tho none ought to conclude that their day or season of grace isquite expired, yet they ought to deeply apprehend the danger, lestit should expire before their necessary work be done and their peacemade. For tho it can be of no use for them to know the former, andtherefore they have no means appointed them by which to know it, 'tisof great use to apprehend the latter; and they have sufficient groundfor the apprehension. All the cautions and warnings wherewith the HolySpirit abounds, of the kind with those already mentioned, have thatmanifest design. And nothing can be more important, or opposite tothis purpose, than that solemn charge of the great apostle: "Work outyour own salvation with fear and trembling"; considered together withthe subjoined ground of it; "For it is God that worketh in you to willand to do of his own good pleasure. " How correspondent is the one withthe other; work for He works: there were no working at all to anypurpose, or with any hope, if He did not work. And work with fear andtrembling, for He works of His own good pleasure, q. D. , "'Twere thegreatest folly imaginable to trifle with One that works at so perfectliberty, under no obligation, that may desist when He will; to imposeupon so absolutely sovereign and arbitrary an Agent, that owes younothing; and from whose former gracious operations not complied withyou can draw no argument, unto any following ones, that because Hedoth, therefore He will. As there is no certain connection betweenpresent time and future, but all time is made up of undepending, notstrictly coherent, moments, so as no man can be sure, because onenow exists, another shall; there is also no more certain connectionbetween the arbitrary acts of a free agent within such time; so thatI can not be sure, because He now darts in light upon me, is nowconvincing me, now awakening me, therefore He will still do so, againand again. " Upon this ground then, what exhortation could be moreproper than this? "Work out your salvation with fear and trembling. "What could be more awfully monitory and enforcing of it than that Heworks only of mere good will and pleasured How should I tremble tothink, if I should be negligent, or undutiful, He may give out thenext moment, may let the work fall, and me perish? And there is moreespecial cause for such an apprehension upon the concurrence of suchthings as these:

1. If the workings of God's Spirit upon the soul of a man have beenmore than ordinarily strong and urgent, and do not now cease: ifthere have been more powerful convictions, deeper humiliations, moreawakened fears, more formed purposes of a new life, more ferventdesires that are now vanished, and the sinner returns to his dead anddull temper. 

2. If there be no disposition to reflect and consider the difference, no sense of his loss, but he apprehends such workings of spirit in himunnecessary troubles to him, and thinks it well he is delivered andeased of them. 

3. If in the time when he was under such workings of the Spirit hehad made known his case to his minister, or any godly friend, whosecompany he now shuns, as not willing to be put in mind, or hear anymore of such matters. 

4. If, hereupon he hath more indulged sensual inclination, taken moreliberty, gone against the check of his own conscience, broken formergood resolutions, involved himself in the guilt of any grosser sins. 

5. If conscience, so baffled, be now silent, lets him alone, growsmore sluggish and weaker, which it must as his lusts grow stronger. 

6. If the same lively, powerful ministry which before affected himmuch, now moves him not. 

7. If especially he is grown into a dislike of such preaching--ifserious godliness, and what tends to it, are become distasteful tohim--if discourses of God, and of Christ, of death and judgment, andof a holy life, are reckoned superflous and needless, are unsavory anddisrelished--if he have learned to put disgraceful names uponthings of this import, and the persons that most value them liveaccordingly--if he hath taken the seat of the scorner, and makes ithis business to deride what he had once a reverence for, or took somecomplacency in. 

8. If, upon all this, God withdraw such a ministry, so that he is nowwarned, admonished, exhorted and striven with, as formerly, no more. Oh, the fearful danger of that man's case! Hath he no cause to fearlest the things of his peace should be forever hid from his eyes?Surely he hath much cause of fear, but mot of despair. Fear in thiscase would be his great duty, and might yet prove the means of savinghim--despair would be his very heinous and destroying sin. If yet hewould be stirred up to consider his case, whence he is fallen, andwhither he is falling, and set himself to serious seekings of God, cast down himself before Him, abase himself, cry for mercy as for hislife, there is yet hope in his case. God may make here an instancewhat He can obtain of Himself to do for a perishing wretch. But ifwith any that have lived under the gospel, their day is quite expired, and the things of their peace now forever hid from their eyes, this isin itself a most deplorable case, and much lamented by our Lord JesusHimself. That the case is in itself most deplorable, who sees not? Asoul lost! a creature capable of God! upon its way to Him! near to thekingdom of God! shipwrecked in the port! Oh, sinner, from how high ahope art thou fallen! into what depths of misery and we! And that itwas lamented by our Lord is in the text. He beheld the city (verygenerally, we have reason to apprehend, inhabited by such wretchedcreatures) and wept over it. This was a very affectionate lamentation. We lament often, very heartily, many a sad case for which we do notshed tears. But tears, such tears, falling from such eyes! the issuesof the purest and best-governed passion that ever was, showed the truegreatness of the cause. Here could be no exorbitancy or unjust excess, nothing more than was proportional to the occasion. There needs noother proof that this is a sad case than that our Lord lamented itwith tears, which that He did we are plainly told, so that, touchingthat, there is no place for doubt. All that is liable to question is, whether we are to conceive in Him any like resentments of such cases, in His present glorified state? Indeed, we can not think heaven aplace or state of sadness or lamentation, and must take heed ofconceiving anything there, especially on the throne of glory, unsuitable to the most perfect nature, and the most glorious state. Weare not to imagine tears there, which, in that happy region are wipedaway from inferior eyes--no grief, sorrow, or sighing, which are allfled away, and shall be no more, as there can be no other turbidpassion of any kind. But when expressions that import anger or griefare used, even concerning God Himself, we must sever in our conceptioneverything of imperfection, and ascribe everything of real perfection. We are not to think such expressions signify nothing, that they haveno meaning, or that nothing at all is to be attributed to Him underthem. Nor are we again to think they signify the same thing with whatwe find in ourselves, and are wont to express by those names. In thedivine nature there may be real, and yet most serene, complacency anddisplacency--viz. , that, unaccompanied by the least commotion, thatimpart nothing of imperfection, but perfection rather, as it is aperfection to apprehend things suitably to what in themselves theyare. The holy Scriptures frequently speak of God as angry, and grievedfor the sins of men, and their miseries which ensue therefrom. Anda real aversion and dislike is signified thereby, and by many otherexpressions, which in us would signify vehement agitations ofaffection, that we are sure can have no place in Him. We ought, therefore, in our own thoughts to ascribe to Him that calm aversion ofwill, in reference to the sins and miseries of men in general; and inour own apprehensions to remove to the utmost distance from Him allsuch agitations of passion or affection, even tho some expressionsthat occur carry a great appearance thereof, should they be understoodaccording to human measures, as they are human forms of speech. As, toinstance in what is said by the glorious God Himself, and very near insense to what we have in the text, what can be more pathetic than thatlamenting wish, "Oh, that my people had hearkened unto me, and Israelhad walked in my ways!" But we must take heed lest, under the pretensethat we can not ascribe everything to God that such expressions seemto import, we therefore ascribe nothing. We ascribe nothing, if we donot ascribe a real unwillingness that men should sin on, and perish, and consequently a real willingness that they should turn to Him, and live, which so many plain texts assert. And therefore it isunavoidably imposed upon us to believe that God is truly unwilling ofsome things which He doth not think fit to interpose His omnipotencyto hinder, and is truly willing of some things which He doth not putforth His omnipotency to effect. 

We can not, therefore, doubt but that, 1. He distinctly comprehends the truth of any such case. He beholds, from the throne of His glory above, all the treaties which are heldand managed with sinners in His name, and what their deportments aretherein. His eyes are as a flame of fire, wherewith He searchethhearts and trieth reins. He hath seen therefore, sinner, all alongevery time an offer of grace hath been made to thee, and beenrejected; when thou hast slighted counsels and warnings that have beengiven thee, exhortations and treaties that have been prest upon theefor many years together, and how thou hast hardened thy heart againstreproofs and threatenings, against promises and allurements, andbeholds the tendency of all this, what is like to come to it, andthat, if thou persist, it will be bitterness in the end. 

2. That He hath a real dislike of the sinfulness of thy course. It isnot indifferent to Him whether thou obeyest or disobeyest the gospel, whether thou turn and repent or no; that He is truly displeased at thytrifling, sloth, negligence, impenitency, hardness of heart, stubbornobstinacy, and contempt of His grace, and takes real offense at them. 

3. He hath real kind propensions toward thee, and is ready to receivethy returning soul, and effectually to mediate with the offendedmajesty of Heaven for thee, as long as there is any hope in thy case. 

4. When He sees there is no hope, He pities thee, while thou seest itnot, and dost not pity thyself. Pity and mercy above are not namesonly; 'tis a great reality that is signified by them, and that hathplace here in far higher excellency and perfection than it can with uspoor mortals here below. Ours is but borrowed and participatedfrom that first fountain and original above. Thou dost not perishunlamented even with the purest heavenly pity, tho thou hast made thycase incapable of remedy; as the well tempered judge bewails the sadend of the malefactor, whom justice obliges him not to spare or save. 

And that thou mayst not throw away thy soul and so great a hope, through mere sloth and loathness to be at some pains for thy life, letthe text, which hath been thy directory about the things that belongto thy peace, be also thy motive, as it gives thee to behold the Sonof God weeping over such as would not know those things. Shall not theRedeemer's tears move thee? O hard heart! Consider what these tearsimport to this purpose. 

1. They signify the real depth and greatness of the misery intowhich thou are falling. They drop from an intellectual and mostcomprehensive eye, that sees far and pierces deep into things, hath awide and large prospect; takes the comfort of that forlorn state intowhich unreconcilable sinners are hastening, in all the horror of it. The Son of God did not weep vain and causeless tears, or for a lightmatter; nor did He for Himself either spend His own or desirethe profusion of others' tears. "Weep not for me, O daughters ofJerusalem, " etc. He knows the value of souls, the weight of guilt, andhow low it will press and sink them; the severity of God's justice andthe power of His anger, and what the fearful effects of them willbe when they finally fall. If thou understandest not these thingsthyself, believe Him that did; at least believe His tears. 

2. They signify the sincerity of His love and pity, the truth andtenderness of His compassion. Canst thou think His deceitful tears?His, who never knew guile? Was this like the rest of His course? Andremember that He who shed tears did, from the same fountain of loveand mercy, shed blood too! Was that also done to deceive? Thou makestthyself a very considerable thing indeed, if thou thinkest the Son ofGod counted it worth His while to weep, and bleed, and die, to deceivethee into a false esteem of Him and His love. But if it be thegreatest madness imaginable to entertain any such thought but that Histears were sincere and unartificial, the natural, genuine expressionof undissembled benignity and pity, thou art then to consider whatlove and compassion thou art now sinning against; what bowels thouspurnest; and that if thou perishest, 'tis under such guilt as thedevils themselves are not liable to, who never had a Redeemer bleedingfor them, nor, that we ever find, weeping over them. 

3. They show the remedilessness of thy case if thou persist inimpenitency and unbelief till the things of thy peace be quite hidfrom thine eyes. These tears will then be the last issues of (evendefeated) love, of love that is frustrated of its kind design. Thoumayst perceive in these tears the steady, unalterable laws ofheaven, the inflexibleness of the divine justice, that holds thee inadamantine bonds, and hath sealed thee up, if thou prove incurablyobstinate and impenitent, unto perdition; so that even the RedeemerHimself, He that is mighty to save, can not at length save thee, butonly weep over thee, drop tears into thy flame, which assuage it not;but (tho they have another design, even to express true compassion) doyet unavoidably heighten and increase the fervor of it, and will do soto all eternity. He even tells thee, sinner, "Thou hast despised Myblood; thou shalt yet have My tears. " That would have saved thee, these do only lament thee lost. But the tears wept over others, aslost and past hope, why should they not yet melt thee, while as yetthere is hope in thy case? If thou be effectually melted in thy verysoul, and looking to Him whom thou hast pierced, dost truly mourn overHim, thou mayst assure thyself the prospect His weeping eye had oflost souls did not include thee. His weeping over thee would argue thycase forlorn and hopeless; thy mourning over Him will make it safe andhappy. That it may be so, consider, further, that, 4. They signify how very intent He is to save souls, and how gladlyHe would save thine, if yet thou wilt accept of mercy while it may behad. For if He weep over them that will not be saved, from the samelove that is the spring of these tears, would saving mercies proceedto those that are become willing to receive them. And that love thatwept over them that were lost, how will it glory in them that aresaved! There His love is disappointed and vexed, crossed in itsgracious intendment; but here, having compassed it, how will He joyover thee with singing, and rest in His love! And thou also, insteadof being revolved in a like ruin with the unreconciled sinners of oldJerusalem, shalt be enrolled among the glorious citizens of the new, and triumph together with them in glory. 

BOURDALOUE

THE PASSION OF CHRIST

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

Louis Bourdaloue was born at Bourges, in 1632. At the age of sixteenhe entered the order of the Jesuits and was thoroughly educated in thescholarship, philosophy and theology of the day. He devoted himselfentirely to the work of preaching, and was ten times called uponto address Louis XIV and his court from the pulpit as Bossuet'ssuccessor. This was an unprecedented record and yet Bourdaloue couldadapt his style to any audience, and "mechanics left their shops, merchants their business, and lawyers their court house" to hearhim. His high personal character, his simplicity of life, his clear, direct, and logical utterance as an accomplished orator united tomake him not only "the preacher of kings but the king of preachers. "Retiring from the pulpit late in life he ministered to the sick and toprisoners. He died in Paris, 1704. 

BOURDALOUE

1632-1704

THE PASSION OF CHRIST

_And there followed him a great company of people, and of women, whichalso bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus turning unto them, said, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for your selves, and for your children_. "--Luke xxiii. , 27, 28. 

The passion of Jesus Christ, however sorrowful and ignominious it mayappear to us, must nevertheless have been to Jesus Christ Himself anobject of delight, since this God-man, by a wonderful secret of Hiswisdom and love, has willed that the mystery of it shall be continuedand solemnly renewed in His Church until the final consummation of theworld. For what is the Eucharist but a perpetual repetition of theSavior's passion, and what has the Savior supposed in institutingit, but that whatever passed at Calvary is not only represented butconsummated on our altars? That is to say, that He is still performingthe functions of the victim anew, and is every moment virtuallysacrificed, as tho it were not sufficient that He should have sufferedonce; at least that His love, as powerful as it is free, has given toHis adorable sufferings that character of perpetuity which they havein the Sacrament, and which renders them so salutary to us. Behold, Christians, what the love of God has devised; but behold, also, whathas happened through the malice of men! At the same time that JesusChrist, in the sacrament of His body, repeats His holy passion in amanner altogether mysterious, men, the false imitators, or rather basecorrupters of the works of God, have found means to renew this samepassion, not only in a profane, but in a criminal, sacrilegious, andhorrible manner!

Do not imagine that I speak figuratively. Would to God, Christians, that what I am going to say to you were only a figure, and that youwere justified in vindicating yourselves to-day against the horribleexpressions which I am obliged to employ! I speak in the literalsense, and you ought to be more affected with this discourse, if whatI advance appears to you to be overcharged; for it is by your excessesthat it is so, and not by my words. Yes, my dear hearers, the sinnersof the age, by the disorders of their lives, renew the bloody andtragic passion of the Son of God in the world; I will venture to saythat the sinners of the age cause to the Son of God, even in the stateof glory, as many new passions as they have committed outrages againstHim by their actions! Apply yourselves to form an idea of them; and inthis picture, which will surprize you, recognize what you are, thatyou may weep bitterly over yourselves! What do we see in the passionof Jesus Christ? A divine Savior betrayed and abandoned by cowardlydisciples, persecuted by pontiffs and hypocritical priests, ridiculedand mocked in the palace of Herod by impious courtiers, placed upon alevel with Barabbas, and to whom Barabbas is preferred by a blind andinconstant people, exposed to the insults of libertinism, and treatedas a mock king by a troop of soldiers equally barbarous and insolent;in fine, crucified by merciless executioners! Behold, in a few words, what is most humiliating and most cruel in the death of the Savior ofthe world! Then tell me if this is not precisely what we now see, of what we are every day called to be witnesses. Let us resume; andfollow me. 

Betrayed and abandoned by cowardly disciples; such, O divine Savior, has been Thy destiny. But it was not enough that the apostles, thefirst men whom Thou didst choose for Thine own, in violation of themost holy engagement, should have forsaken Thee in the last scene ofThy life; that one of them should have sold Thee, another renouncedThee, and all disgraced themselves by a flight which was, perhaps, themost sensible of all the wounds that Thou didst feel in dying. Thiswound must be again opened by a thousand acts of infidelity yet morescandalous. Even in the Christian ages we must see men bearing thecharacter of Thy disciples, and not having the resolution to sustainit; Christians, prevaricators, and deserters from their faith;Christians ashamed of declaring themselves for Thee, not daring toappear what they are, renouncing at least in the exterior what theyhave profest, flying when they ought to fight; in a word, Christiansin form, ready to follow Thee even to the Supper when in prosperity, and while it required no sacrifice, but resolved to abandon Thee inthe moment of temptation. It is on your account, and my own, my dearhearers, that I speak, and behold what ought to be the subject of oursorrow. 

A Savior mortally persecuted by pontiffs and hypocritical priests!Let us not enter, Christians, into the discussion of this article, atwhich your piety would, perhaps, be offended, and which would weakenor prejudice the respect which you owe to the ministers of the Lord. It belongs to us, my brethren, to meditate to-day on this fact in thespirit of holy compunction; to us consecrated to the ministry of thealtars, to us priests of Jesus Christ, whom God has chosen in HisChurch to be the dispensers of His sacraments. It does not become meto remonstrate in this place. God forbid that I should undertake tojudge those who sustain the sacred office! This is not the duty ofhumility to which my condition calls me. Above all, speaking as I do, before many ministers, the irreprehensible life of whom contributes somuch to the edification of the people, I am not yet so infatuated asto make myself the judge, much less the censor of their conduct. 

But tho it should induce you only to acknowledge the favors with whichGod prevents you, as a contrast, from the frightful blindness intowhich He permits others to fall, remember that the priests and theprinces of the priests, are those whom the evangelist describes as theauthors of the conspiracy formed against the Savior of the world, andof the wickedness committed against Him. Remember that this scandalis notoriously public, and renewed still every day in Christianity. Remember, but with fear and horror, that the greatest persecutors ofJesus Christ are not lay libertines, but wicked priests; and thatamong the wicked priests, those whose corruption and iniquity arecovered with the veil of hypocrisy are His most dangerous and mostcruel enemies. A hatred, disguised under the name of zeal, and coveredwith the specious pretext of observance of the law, was the firstmovement of the persecution which the Pharisees and the priests raisedagainst the Son of God. Let us fear lest the same passion should blindus! Wretched passion, exclaims St. Bernard, which spreads the venom ofits malignity even over the most lovely of the children of men, andwhich could not see a God upon earth without hating Him! A hatred notonly of the prosperity and happiness, but what is yet more strange, ofthe merit and perfection of others! A cowardly and shameful passion, which, not content with having caused the death of Jesus Christ, continues to persecute Him by rending His mystical body, which is theChurch; dividing His members, which are believers; and stifling intheir hearts that charity which is the spirit of Christianity! Behold, my brethren, the subtle temptation against which we have to defendourselves, and under which it is but too common for us to fall!

A Redeemer reviled and mocked in the palace of Herod by the impiouscreatures of his court! This was, without doubt, one of the mostsensible insults which Jesus Christ received. But do not suppose, Christians, that this act of impiety ended there. It has passed fromthe court of Herod, from that prince destitute of religion, into thoseeven of Christian princes. And is not the Savior still a subject ofridicule to the libertine spirits which compose them? They worship Himexternally, but internally how do they regard His maxims? What ideahave they of His humility, of His poverty, of His sufferings? Is notvirtue either unknown or despised? It is not a rash zeal whichinduces me to speak in this manner; it is what you too often witness, Christians; it is what you perhaps feel in yourselves; and a littlereflection upon the manners of the court will convince you that thereis nothing that I say which is not confirmed by a thousand examples, and that you yourselves are sometimes unhappy accomplices in thesecrimes. 

Herod had often earnestly wished to see Jesus Christ. The reputationwhich so many miracles had given Him, excited the curiosity of thisprince, and he did not doubt but that a man who commanded all naturemight strike some wonderful blow to escape from the persecution of Hisenemies. But the Son of God, who had not been sparing of His prodigiesfor the salvation of others, spared them for Himself, and would notsay a single word about His own safety. He considered Herod and hispeople as profane persons, with whom he thought it improper to holdany intercourse, and he preferred rather to pass for a fool than tosatisfy the false wisdom of the world. As His kingdom was not of thisworld, as He said to Pilate, it was not at the court that He designedto establish Himself. He knew too well that His doctrine could notbe relished in a place where the rules of worldly wisdom only werefollowed, and where all the miracles which He had performed hadnot been sufficient to gain men full of love for themselves andintoxicated with their greatness. In this corrupted region theybreathe only the air of vanity; they esteem only that which issplendid; they speak only of preferment: and on whatever side we castour eyes, we see nothing but what either flatters or inflames theambitious desires of the heart of man. 

What probability then was there that Jesus Christ, the most humbleof all men, should obtain a hearing where only pageantry and prideprevail! If He had been surrounded with honors and riches, He wouldhave found partisans near Herod and in every other place. But as Hepreached a renunciation of the world both to His disciples and toHimself, let us not be astonished that they treated Him with so muchdisdain. Such is the prediction of the holy man Job, and which afterHim must be accomplished in the person of all the righteous; "theupright man is laughed to scorn. " In fact, my dear hearers, you knowthat, whatever virtue and merit we may possess, they are not enoughto procure us esteem at court. Enter it, and appear only like JesusChrist, clothed with the robe of innocence; only walk with JesusChrist in the way of simplicity; only speak as Jesus Christ to rendertestimony to the truth, and you will find that you meet with no bettertreatment there than Jesus Christ. To be well received there, you musthave pomp and splendor. To keep your station there, you must haveartifice and intrigue. To be favorably heard there, you must havecomplaisance and flattery. Then all this is opposed to Jesus Christ;and the court being what it is--that is to say, the kingdom of theprince of this world--it is not surprizing that the kingdom of JesusChrist can not be established there. But wo to you, princes of theearth! Wo to you, men of the world, who despise this incarnate wisdom, for you shall be despised in your turn, and the contempt which shallfall upon you shall be much more terrible than the contempt which youmanifest can be prejudicial. 

A Savior placed upon a level with Barabbas, and to whom Barabbas ispreferred by a blind and fickle rabble! How often have we been guiltyof the same outrage against Jesus Christ as the blind and fickle Jews!How often, after having received Him in triumph in the sacrament ofthe communion, seduced by cupidity, have we not preferred either apleasure or interest after which we sought, in violation of His law, to this God of glory! How often divided between conscience whichgoverned us, and passion which corrupted us, have we not renewed thisabominable judgment, this unworthy preference of the creature evenabove our God! Christians, observe this application; it is that of St. Chrysostom, and if you properly understand it, you must be affected byit. Conscience, which, in spite of ourselves, presides in us as judge, said inwardly to us, "What art thou going to do? Behold thy pleasureon the one hand, and thy God on the other: for which of the two dostthou declare thyself? for thou canst not save both; thou must eitherlose thy pleasure or thy God; and it is for thee to decide. " And thepassion, which by a monstrous infidelity had acquired the influenceover our hearts, made us conclude--I will keep my pleasure. "But whatthen will become of thy God, " replied conscience secretly, "andwhat must I do, I, who can not prevent myself from maintaining Hisinterests against thee?" I care not what will become of my God, answered passion insolently; I will satisfy myself, and the resolutionis taken. "But dost thou know, " proceeded conscience by its remorse, "that in indulging thyself in this pleasure it will at last submit thySavior to death and crucifixion for thee?" It is of no consequence ifHe be crucified, provided I can have my enjoyments. "But what evil hasHe done, and what reason hast thou to abandon Him in this manner?" Mypleasure is my reason; and since Christ is the enemy of my pleasure, and my pleasure crucifies Him, I say it again, let Him be crucified. 

Behold, my dear hearers, what passes every day in the consciences ofmen, and what passes in you and in me, every time that we fall intosin, which causes death to Jesus Christ, as well as to our souls!Behold what makes the enormity and wickedness of this sin! I know thatwe do not always speak, that we do not always explain ourselves insuch express terms and in so perceptible a manner; but after all, without explaining ourselves so distinctly and so sensibly, there is alanguage of the heart which says all this. For, from the moment that Iknow that this pleasure is criminal and forbidden of God, I know thatit is impossible for me to desire it, impossible to seek it, withoutlosing God; and consequently I prefer this pleasure to God in thedesire that I form of it, and in the pursuit that I make after it. This, then, is sufficient to justify the thought of St. Chrysostom andthe doctrine of the theologians upon the nature of deadly sin . .. 

That there are men, and Christian men, to whom, by a secret judgmentof God, the passion of Jesus Christ, salutary as it is, may becomeuseless, is a truth too essential in our religion to be unknown, andtoo sorrowful not to be the subject of our grief. When the Savior fromthe height of His cross, ready to give up His spirit, raised this crytoward heaven, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" therewas no one who did not suppose but that the violence of His tormentsforced from Him this complaint, and perhaps we ourselves yet believeit. But the great Bishop Arnauld de Chartres, penetrating deeper intothe thoughts and affections of this dying Savior, says, with much morereason, that the complaint of Christ Jesus to His Father proceededfrom the sentiment with which He was affected, in representing toHimself the little fruit which His death would produce; in consideringthe small number of the elect who would profit by it; in foreseeingwith horror the infinite number of the reprobate, for whom it wouldbe useless: as if He had wished to proclaim that His merits were notfully enough nor worthily enough remunerated; and that after havingdone so much work He had a right to promise to Himself a differentsuccess in behalf of men. The words of this author are admirable:Jesus Christ complains, says this learned prelate, but of what does Hecomplain? That the wickedness of sinners makes Him lose what ought tobe the reward of the conflicts which He has maintained; that millionsof the human race for whom He suffers will, nevertheless, be excludedfrom the benefit of redemption. And because He regards Himself in themas their head, and themselves, in spite of their worthlessness, asthe members of His mystical body; seeing them abandoned by God, Hecomplains of being abandoned Himself: "My God, my God, why hastthou forsaken me?" He complains of what made St. Paul groan when, transported with an apostolic zeal, he said to the Galatians: "What, my brethren, is Jesus Christ then dead in vain? Is the mystery ofthe cross then nothing to you? Will not this blood which He has soabundantly shed have the virtue to sanctify you?"

But here, Christians, I feel myself affected with a thought which, contrary as it appears to that of the apostle, only serves tostrengthen and confirm it. For it appears that St. Paul is grievedbecause Jesus Christ has suffered in vain; but I, I should almostconsole myself if He had only suffered in vain, and if His passion wasonly rendered useless to us. That which fills me with consternationis, that at the same time that we render it useless to ourselves, byan inevitable necessity it must become pernicious; for this passion, says St. Gregory of Nazianzen, "partakes of the nature of thoseremedies which, kill if they do not heal, and of which the effect iseither to give life or to convert itself into poison; lose nothing ofthis, I beseech you. " Remember, then, Christians, what happened duringthe judgment and at the moment of the condemnation of the Son of God. 

When Pilate washed his hands before the Jews and declared to them thatthere was nothing worthy of death in this righteous man, but that thecrime from which he freed himself rested upon them, and that theywould have to answer for it, they all cried with one voice that theyconsented to it, and that they readily agreed that the blood of thisjust man should fall upon them and upon their children. You know whatthis cry has cost them. You know the curses which one such imprecationhas drawn upon them, the anger of heaven which began from that timeto burst upon this nation, the ruin of Jerusalem which followed soonafter--the carnage of their citizens, the profanation of their temple, the destruction of their republic, the visible character of theirreprobation which their unhappy posterity bear to this day, thatuniversal banishment, that exile of sixteen hundred years, thatslavery through all the earth--and all in consequence of the authenticprediction which Jesus Christ made to them of it when going toCalvary, and with circumstances which incontestably prove that apunishment as exemplary as this can not be imputed but to decide whichthey had committed in the person of the Savior; since it is evident, says St. Augustine, that the Jews were never further from idolatry normore religious observers of their law than they were then, and that, excepting the crime of the death of Jesus Christ, God, very far frompunishing them, would, it seems, rather have loaded them with Hisblessings. You know all this, I say; and all this is a convincingproof that the blood of this God-man is virtually fallen upon thesesacrilegious men, and that God, in condemning them by their own mouth, altho in spite of Himself, employs that to destroy them which wasdesigned for their salvation. 

But, Christians, to speak with the Holy Spirit, this has happened tothe Jews only as a figure; it is only the shadow of the fearful cursesof which the abuse of the merits and passion of the Son of God must beto us the source and the measure. I will explain myself. What do we, my dear hearers, when borne away by the immoderate desires of ourhearts to a sin against which our consciences protest? And what dowe, when, possest of the spirit of the world, we resist a grace whichsolicits us, which presses us to obey God? Without thinking upon it, and without wishing it, we secretly pronounce the same sentence ofdeath which the Jews pronounced against themselves before Pilate, whenthey said to him, "His blood be upon us. " For this grace which wedespise is the price of the blood of Jesus Christ, and the sin that wecommit is an actual profanation of this very blood. It is, then, as ifwe were to say to God: "Lord, I clearly see what engagement I make, and I know what risk I run, but rather than not satisfy my owndesires, I consent that the blood of Thy Son shall fall upon me. Thiswill be to bear the chastisement of it, but I will indulge my passion;Thou hast a right to draw forth from it a just indignation, butnevertheless I will complete my undertaking. "

Thus we condemn ourselves. And here, Christians, is one of theessential foundations of this terrible mystery of the eternity of thepunishment with which faith threatens us, and against which our reasonrevolts. We suppose that we can not have any knowledge of it in thislife, and we are not aware, says St. Chrysostom, that we find itcompletely in the blood of the Savior, or rather in our profanation ofit every day. For this blood, my brethren, adds this holy doctor, isenough to make eternity not less frightful, but less incredible. And behold the reason: This blood is of an infinite dignity; it cantherefore be avenged only by an infinite punishment. This blood, if wedestroy ourselves, will cry eternally against us at the tribunal ofGod. It will eternally excite the wrath of God against us. This blood, falling upon lost souls, will fix a stain upon them, which shall neverbe effaced. Their torments must consequently never end. 

A reprobate in hell will always appear in the eyes of God stained withthat blood which he has so basely treated. God will then always abhorhim; and, as the aversion of God from His creature is that which makeshell, it must be inferred that hell will be eternal. And in this, O myGod, Thou art sovereignly just, sovereignly holy, and worthy of ourpraise and adoration. It is in this way that the beloved discipledeclared it even to God Himself in the Apocalypse. Men, said he, haveshed the blood of Thy servants and of Thy prophets; thereforethey deserve to drink it, and to drink it from the cup of Thineindignation. "For they have shed the blood of saints and prophets, and thou hast given them blood to drink. " An expression which theScripture employs to describe the extreme infliction of divinevengeance. Ah! if the blood of the prophets has drawn down the scourgeof God upon men, what may we not expect from the blood of JesusChrist? If the blood of martyrs is heard crying out in heaven againstthe persecutors of the faith, how much more will the blood of theRedeemer be heard!

Then once more, Christians, behold the deplorable necessity to whichwe are reduced. This blood which flows from Calvary either demandsgrace for us, or justice against us. When we apply ourselves to it bya lively faith and a sincere repentance, it demands grace; but when byour disorders and impieties we check its salutary virtue, it demandsjustice, and it infallibly obtains it. It is in this blood, says St. Bernard, that all righteous souls are purified; but by a prodigyexactly opposite, it is also in this same blood that all the sinnersof the land defile themselves, and render themselves, if I may use theexpression, more hideous in the sight of God. 

Ah! my God, shall I eternally appear in thine eyes polluted with thatblood which washes away the crimes of others? If I had simply tobear my own sins, I might promise myself a punishment less rigorous, considering my sins as my misfortune, my weakness, my ignorance. Then, perhaps, Thou wouldst be less offended on account of them. But whenthese sins with which I shall be covered shall present themselvesbefore me as so many sacrileges with respect to the blood of Thy Son;when the abuse of this blood shall be mixed and confounded with allthe disorders of my life; when there shall not be one of them againstwhich this blood shall not cry louder than the blood of Abel againstCain; then, O God of my soul I what will become of me in thy presence?No, Lord, cries the same St. Bernard affectionately, suffer not theblood of my Savior to fall upon me in this manner. Let it fall upon meto sanctify, but let it not fall upon me to destroy. Let it fall uponme in a right use of the favors which are the divine overflowings ofit, and not through the blindness of mind and hardness of heart whichare the most terrible punishments of it. Let it fall upon me by theparticipation of the sacred Eucharist, which is the precious sourceof it, and not by the maledictions attached to the despisers of Thysacraments. In fine, let it fall upon me by influencing my conduct andinducing the practise of good works, and let it not fall upon me formy wanderings, my infidelities, my obstinacy, and my impenitence. This, my brethren, is what we ought to ask to-day from Jesus Christcrucified. It is with these views that we ought to go to the foot ofthe cross and catch the blood as it flows. He was the Savior of theJews as well as ours, but this Savior, St. Augustine says, the Jewshave converted into their judge. Avert from us such an evil. May HeWho died to save us be our Savior. May He be our Savior during all thedays of our lives. And may His merits, shed upon us abundantly, losenone of their efficacy in our hands, but be preserved entire by thefruits we produce from them. May He be our Savior in death. And at thelast moment may the cross be our support, and thus may He consummatethe work of our salvation which He has begun. May He be our Savior ina blest eternity, where we shall be as much the sharer in His glory aswe have been in His sufferings. 

FÉNELON

THE SAINTS CONVERSE WITH GOD

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

François de Salignac de La Mothe-Fénelon, Archbishop of Cambray, andprivate tutor to the heir-apparent of France, was born of a noblefamily in Perigord, 1651. In 1675 he received holy orders, and soonafterward made the acquaintance of Bossuet, whom he henceforth lookedup to as his master. It was the publication of his "De l'Éducation desFilles" that brought him his first fame, and had some influence insecuring his appointment in 1689 to be preceptor of the Duke ofBurgundy. In performing this office he thought it necessary tocompose his own text-books, such as would teach the vanity of worldlygreatness and the loftiness of virtue. He was promoted to thearchbishopric of Cambray in 1695, and subsequently became entangledin the religious aberrations of Madame Guyon. Fénelon came intocontroversy with Bossuet, whose severity against his friend wasrebuked by the Pope, who, nevertheless, condemned some of theArchbishop of Cambray's views. Fénelon submitted, and withdrew tohis diocesan see, where he died in 1715. His deep spirituality andeloquence are exemplified in the following sermon. 

FÉNELON

1651-1715

THE SAINTS CONVERSE WITH GOD

_Pray without ceasing_. --I Thess. V. , 17

Of all the duties enjoined by Christianity none is more essential, andyet more neglected, than prayer. Most people consider this exercise awearisome ceremony, which they are justified in abridging as much aspossible. Even those whose profession or fears lead them to pray, doit with such languor and wanderings of mind that their prayers, farfrom drawing down blessings, only increase their condemnation. I wishto demonstrate, in this discourse, first, the general necessity ofprayer; secondly, its peculiar duty; thirdly, the manner in which weought to pray. 

First. God alone can instruct us in our duty. The teachings of men, however wise and well disposed they may be, are still ineffectual, ifGod do not shed on the soul that light which opens the mind to truth. The imperfections of our fellow creatures cast a shade over the truthsthat we learn from them. Such is our weakness that we do not receive, with sufficient docility, the instructions of those who are asimperfect as ourselves. A thousand suspicions, jealousies, fears, andprejudices prevent us from profiting, as we might, by what we hearfrom men; and tho they announce the most serious truths, yet what theydo weakens the effect of what they say. In a word, it is God alone whocan perfectly teach us. 

St. Bernard said, in writing to a pious friend--If you are seekingless to satisfy a vain curiosity than to get true wisdom, you willsooner find it in deserts than in books. The silence of the rocks andthe pathless forests will teach you better than the eloquence of themost gifted men. "All, " says St. Augustine, "that we possess of truthand wisdom is a borrowed good flowing from that fountain for whichwe ought to thirst in the fearful desert of this world, that, beingrefreshed and invigorated by these dews from heaven, we may not faintupon the road that conducts us to a better country. Every attempt tosatisfy the cravings of our hearts at other sources only increasesthe void. You will be always poor if you do not possess the only trueriches. " All light that does not proceed from God is false; it onlydazzles us; it sheds no illumination upon the difficult paths in whichwe must walk, along the precipices that are about us. 

Our experience and our reflections can not, on all occasions, give usjust and certain rules of conduct. The advice of our wisest, and mostsincere friends is not always sufficient; many things escape theirobservation, and many that do not are too painful to be spoken. Theysuppress much from delicacy, or sometimes from a fear of transgressingthe bounds that our friendship and confidence in them will allow. Theanimadversions of our enemies, however severe or vigilant they maybe, fail to enlighten us with regard to ourselves. Their malignityfurnishes our self-love with a pretext for the indulgence of thegreatest faults. The blindness of our self-love is so great that wefind reasons for being satisfied with ourselves, while all the worldcondemn us. What must we learn from all this darkness? That it isGod alone who can dissipate it; that it is He alone whom we can neverdoubt; that He alone is true, and knoweth all things; that if we goto Him in sincerity, He will teach us what men dare not tell us, whatbooks can not--all that is essential for us to know. 

Be assured that the greatest obstacle to true wisdom is theself-confidence inspired by that which is false. The first step towardthis precious knowledge is earnestly to desire it, to feel the want ofit, and to be convinced that they who seek it must address themselvesto the Father of lights, who freely gives to him who asks in faith. But if it be true that God alone can enlighten us, it is not the lesstrue that He will do this simply in answer to our prayers. Are we nothappy, indeed, in being able to obtain so great a blessing by onlyasking for it? No part of the effort that we make to acquire thetransient enjoyments of this life is necessary to obtain theseheavenly blessings. What will we not do, what are we not willingto suffer, to possess dangerous and contemptible things, and oftenwithout any success? It is not thus with heavenly things. God isalways ready to grant them to those who make the request in sincerityand truth. The Christian life is a long and continual tendency of ourhearts toward that eternal goodness which we desire on earth. All ourhappiness consists in thirsting for it. Now this thirst is prayer. Ever desire to approach your Creator and you will never cease to pray. 

Do not think that it is necessary to pronounce many words. To pray isto say, Let Thy will be done. It is to form a good purpose; toraise your heart to God; to lament your weakness; to sigh at therecollection of your frequent disobedience. This prayer demandsneither method, nor science, nor reasoning; it is not essential toquit one's employment; it is a simple movement of the heart toward itsCreator, and a desire that whatever you are doing you may do it to Hisglory. The best of all prayers is to act with a pure intention, andwith a continual reference to the will of God. It depends much uponourselves whether our prayers be efficacious. It is not by a miracle, but by a movement of the heart that we are benefited; by a submissivespirit. Let us believe, let us trust, let us hope, and God never willreject our prayer. Yet how many Christians do we see strangers to theprivilege, aliens from God, who seldom think of Him, who never opentheir hearts to Him; who seek elsewhere the counsels of a falsewisdom, and vain and dangerous consolations, who can not resolve toseek, in humble, fervent prayer to God, a remedy for their griefs anda true knowledge of their defects, the necessary power to conquertheir vicious and perverse inclinations, and the consolations andassistance they require, that they may not be discouraged in avirtuous life. 

But some will say, "I have no interest in prayer; it wearies me; myimagination is excited by sensible and more agreeable objects, andwanders in spite of me. "

If neither your reverence for the great truths of religion, nor themajesty of the ever-present Deity, nor the interest of your eternalsalvation, have power to arrest your mind and engage it in prayer, atleast mourn with me for your infidelity; be ashamed of your weakness, and wish that your thoughts were more under your control; and desireto become less frivolous and inconstant. Make an effort to subjectyour mind to this discipline. You will gradually acquire habit andfacility. What is now tedious will become delightful; and you willthen feel, with a peace that the world can not give nor take away, that God is good. Make a courageous effort to overcome yourself. Therecan be no occasion that more demands it. 

Secondly. The peculiar obligation of prayer. Were I to give all theproofs that the subject affords, I should describe every conditionof life, that I might point out its dangers, and the necessity ofrecourse to God in prayer. But I will simply state that under allcircumstances we have need of prayer. There is no situation in whichit is possible to be placed where we have not many virtues to acquireand many faults to correct. We find in our temperament, or in ourhabits, or in the peculiar character of our minds, qualities that donot suit our occupations, and that oppose our duties. One person isconnected by marriage to another whose temper is so unequal that lifebecomes a perpetual warfare. Some, who are exposed to the contagiousatmosphere of the world, find themselves so susceptible to the vanitywhich they inhale that all their pure desires vanish. Others havesolemnly promised to renounce their resentments, to conquer theiraversions, to suffer with patience certain crosses, and to represstheir eagerness for wealth; but nature prevails, and they arevindictive, violent, impatient, and avaricious. 

Whence comes it that these resolutions are so frail? That all thesepeople wish to improve, desire to perform their duty toward God andman better, and yet fail? It is because our own strength and wisdom, alone, are not enough. We undertake to do everything without God;therefore we do not succeed. It is at the foot of the altar that wemust seek for counsel which will aid us. It is with God that we mustlay our plans of virtue and usefulness; it is He alone that can renderthem successful. Without Him, all our designs, however good they mayappear, are only temerity and delusion. Let us then pray that we maylearn what we are and what we ought to be. By this means we shall notonly learn the number and the evil effects of our peculiar faults, but we shall also learn to what virtues we are called, and the way topractise them. The rays of that pure and heavenly light that visitthe humble soul will beam on us and we shall feel and understand thateverything is possible to those who put their whole trust in God. Thus, not only to those who live in retirement, but to those whoare exposed to the agitations of the world and the excitements ofbusiness, it is peculiarly necessary, by contemplation and ferventprayer, to restore their souls to that serenity which the dissipationsof life and commerce with men have disturbed. To those who are engagedin business, contemplation and prayer are much more difficult than tothose who live in retirement; but it is far more necessary for themto have frequent recourse to God in fervent prayer. In the most holyoccupation a certain degree of precaution is necessary. 

Do not devote all your time to action, but reserve a certain portionof it for meditation upon eternity. We see Jesus Christ inviting Hisdisciples to go apart, in a desert place, and rest awhile, after theirreturn from the cities, where they had been to announce His religion. How much more necessary is it for us to approach the source of allvirtue, that we may revive our declining faith and charity, when wereturn from the busy scenes of life, where men speak and act as ifthey had never known that there is a God! We should look upon prayeras the remedy for our weakness, the rectifier of our own faults. Hewho was without sin prayed constantly; how much more ought we, who aresinners, to be faithful in prayer!

Even the exercise of charity is often a snare to us. It calls us tocertain occupations that dissipate the mind, and that may degenerateinto mere amusement. It is for this reason that St. Chrysostom saysthat nothing is so important as to keep an exact proportion betweenthe interior source of virtue and the external practise of it; else, like the foolish virgins, we shall find that the oil in our lamp isexhausted when the bridegroom comes. 

The necessity we feel that God should bless our labors is anotherpowerful motive to prayer. It often happens that all human help isvain. It is God alone that can aid us, and it does not require muchfaith to believe that it is less our exertions, our foresight, and ourindustry than the blessing of the Almighty that can give success toour wishes. 

Thirdly. Of the manner in which we ought to pray. 1. We must pray withattention. God listens to the voice of the heart, not to that of thelips. Our whole heart must be engaged in prayer. It must fasten uponwhat it prays for; and every human object must disappear from ourminds. To whom should we speak with attention if not to God? Can Hedemand less of us than that we should think of what we say to Him?Dare we hope that He will listen to us, and think of us, when weforget ourselves in the midst of our prayers? This attention toprayer, which it is so just to exact from Christians, may be practisedwith less difficulty than we imagine. It is true that the mostfaithful souls suffer from occasional involuntary distractions. Theycan not always control their imaginations, and, in the silence oftheir spirits, enter into the presence of God. But these unbiddenwanderings of the mind ought not to trouble us; and they may conduceto our perfection even more than the most sublime and affectingprayers if we earnestly strive to overcome them, and submit withhumility to this experience of our infirmity. But to dwell willinglyon frivolous and worldly things during prayer, to make no effort tocheck the vain thoughts that intrude upon this sacred employment andcome between us and the Father of our spirits--is not this choosing tolive the sport of our senses, and separated from God?

2. We must also ask with faith; a faith so firm that it neverfalters. He who prays without confidence can not hope that his prayerwill be granted. Will not God love the heart that trusts in Him? WillHe reject those who bring all their treasures to Him, and reposeeverything upon His goodness? When we pray to God, says St. Cyprian, with entire assurance, it is Himself who has given us the spirit ofour prayer. Then it is the Father listening to the words of His child;it is He who dwells in our hearts, teaching us to pray. But must weconfess that this filial confidence is wanting in all our prayers? Isnot prayer our resource only when all others have failed us? If welook into hearts, shall we not find that we ask of God as if we hadnever before received benefits from Him? Shall we not discover therea secret infidelity that renders us unworthy of His goodness? Let ustremble, lest, when Jesus Christ shall judge us, He pronounce the samereproach that He did to Peter, "O thou of little faith, whereforedidst thou doubt?"

3. We must join humility with trust. Great God, said Daniel, when weprostrate ourselves at Thy feet, we do not place our hopes for thesuccess of our prayers upon our righteousness, but upon Thy mercy. Without this disposition in our hearts, all others, however pious theymay be, can not please God. St. Augustine observes that the failure ofPeter should not be attributed to insincerity in his zeal for JesusChrist. He loved his Master in good faith; in good faith he wouldrather have died than have forsaken Him; but his fault lay in trustingto his own strength, to do what his own heart dictated. 

It is not enough to possess a right spirit, an exact knowledge ofduty, a sincere desire to perform it We must continually renew thisdesire, and enkindle this flame within us, at the fountain of pure andeternal light. 

It is the humble and contrite heart that God will not despise. Remarkthe difference which the evangelist has pointed out between the prayerof the proud and presumptuous Pharisee and the humble and penitentpublican. The one relates his virtues, the other deplores his sins. The good works of the one shall be set aside, while the penitence ofthe other shall be accepted. It will be thus with many Christians. Sinners, vile in their own eyes, will be objects of the mercy of God;while some, who have made professions of piety, will be condemned onaccount of the pride and arrogance that have contaminated their goodworks. It will be so because these have said in their hearts, "Lord, I thank thee that I am not as other men are. " They imagine themselvesprivileged; they pretend that they alone have penetrated the mysteriesof the kingdom of God; they have a language and science of their own;they believe that their zeal can accomplish everything. Theirregular lives favor their vanity; but in truth they are incapable ofself-sacrifice, and they go to their devotions with their hearts fullof pride and presumption. Unhappy are those who pray in this manner!Unhappy are those whose prayers do not render them more humble, moresubmissive, more watchful over their faults, and more willing to livein obscurity!

4. We must pray with love. It is love says St. Augustine, that asks, that seeks, that knocks, that finds, and that is faithful to what itfinds. We cease to pray to God as soon as we cease to love Him, assoon as we cease to thirst for His perfections. The coldness of ourlove is the silence of our hearts toward God. Without this we maypronounce prayers, but we do not pray; for what shall lead us tomeditate upon the laws of God if it be not the love of Him who hasmade these laws? Let our hearts be full of love, then, and they willpray. Happy are they who think seriously of the truths of religion;but far more happy are they who feel and love them! We must ardentlydesire that God will grant us spiritual blessings; and the ardor ofour wishes must render us fit to receive the blessings. For if we prayonly from custom, from fear, in the time of tribulation--- if we honorGod only with our lips, while our hearts are far from Him--if we donot feel a strong desire for the success of our prayers--if we feel achilling indifference in approaching Him who is a consuming fire--ifwe have no zeal for His glory--if we do not feel hatred for sin, anda thirst for perfection, we can not hope for a blessing upon suchheartless prayers. 

5. We must pray with perseverance. The perfect heart is never wearyof seeking God. Ought we to complain if God sometimes leaves us toobscurity, and doubt, and temptation? Trials purify humble souls, andthey serve to expiate the faults of the unfaithful. They confoundthose who, even in their prayers, have flattered their cowardice andpride. If an innocent soul, devoted to God, suffer from any secretdisturbance, it should be humble, adore the designs of God, andredouble its prayers and its fervor. How often do we hear those whoevery day have to reproach themselves with unfaithfulness toward Godcomplain that He refuses to answer their prayers! Ought they not toacknowledge that it is their sins which have formed a thick cloudbetween Heaven and them, and that God has justly hidden Himself fromthem? How often has He recalled us from our wanderings! How often, ungrateful as we are, have we been deaf to His voice and insensible toHis goodness! He would make us feel that we are blind and miserablewhen we forsake Him. He would teach us, by privation, the value of theblessings that we have slighted. And shall we not bear our punishmentwith patience? Who can boast of having done all that he ought to havedone; of having repaired all his past errors; of having purified hisheart, so that he may claim as a right that God should listen tohis prayer? Most truly, all our pride, great as it is, would not besufficient to inspire such presumption! If then, the Almightly do notgrant our petitions, let us adore His justice, let us be silent, letus humble ourselves, and let us pray without ceasing. This humbleperseverance will obtain from Him what we should never obtain by ourown merit. It will make us pass happily from darkness to light; forknow, says St. Augustine that God is near to us even when He appearsfar from us. 

6. We should pray with a pure intention. We should not mingle in ourprayers what is false with what is real; what is perishable with whatis eternal; low and temporal interests with that which concerns oursalvation. Do not seek to render God the protector of your self-loveand ambition, but the promoter of your good desires. You ask for thegratification of your passions, or to be delivered from the cross, of which He knows you have need. Carry not to the foot of the altarirregular desires and indiscreet prayers. Sigh not for vain andfleeting pleasures. Open your heart to your Father in heaven, that HisSpirit may enable you to ask for the true riches. How can He grantyou, says St. Augustine, what you do not yourself desire to receive?You pray every day that His will may be done, and that His kingdom maycome. How can you utter this prayer with sincerity when you preferyour own will to His, and make His law yield to the vain pretexts withwhich your self-love seeks to elude it? Can you make this prayer--youwho disturb His reign in your heart by so many impure and vaindesires? You, in fine, who fear the coming of His reign, and do notdesire that God should grant what you seem to pray for? No! If He, atthis moment, were to offer to give you a new heart, and render youhumble, and willing to bear the cross, your pride would revolt, andyou would not accept the offer; or you would make a reservation infavor of your ruling passion, and try to accommodate your piety toyour humor and fancies!

SOUTH

THE IMAGE OF GOD IN MAN

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

Robert South, who was born in the borough of Hackney, London, England, in 1638, attracted wide attention by his vigorous mind and his clear, argumentative style in preaching. Some of his sermons are notablespecimens of pulpit eloquence. A keen analytical mind, great depth offeeling, and wide range of fancy combined to make him a powerful andimpressive speaker. By some critics his style has been consideredunsurpassed in force and beauty. What he lacked in tenderness was madeup in masculine strength. He was a born satirist. Henry Rogers said ofhim: "Of all the English preachers, South seems to furnish, in pointof style, the truest specimens of pulpit eloquence. His robustintellect, his shrewd common sense, his vehement feelings, and afancy always more distinguished by force than by elegance, admirablyqualified him for a powerful public speaker. " South became prebendaryof Westminster in 1663, canon at Oxford in 1670, and rector of Islipin 1678. An edition of his writings was published in 1823. He died in1716. 

SOUTH

1638-1716

THE IMAGE OF GOD IN MAN

_So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created hehim_. --Genesis i. , 27. 

How hard it is for natural reason to discover a creation beforerevealed, or, being revealed, to believe it, the strange opinions ofthe old philosophers, and the infidelity of modern atheists, is toosad a demonstration. To run the world back to its first original andinfancy, and, as it were, to view nature in its cradle, and trace theoutgoings of the Ancient of Days in the first instance and specimen ofHis creative power, is a research too great for any mortal inquiry;and we might continue our scrutiny to the end of the world, beforenatural reason would be able to find out when it began. 

Epicurus's discourse concerning the original of the world is sofabulous and ridiculously merry that we may well judge the design ofhis philosophy to have been pleasure, and not instruction. Aristotleheld that it streamed by connatural result and emanation from God, theinfinite and eternal Mind, as the light issues from the sun; so thatthere was no instant of duration assignable of God's eternal existencein which the world did not also coexist. Others held a fortuitousconcourse of atoms--but all seem jointly to explode a creation, stillbeating upon this ground, that the producing something out of nothingis impossible and incomprehensible; incomprehensible, indeed, I grant, but not therefore impossible. There is not the least transaction ofsense and motion in the whole man, but philosophers are at a loss tocomprehend, I am sure they are to explain it. Wherefore it is notalways rational to measure the truth of an assertion by the standardof our apprehension. 

But, to bring things even to the bare preception of reason, Iappeal to any one who shall impartially reflect upon the ideas andconceptions of his own mind, whether he doth not find it as easy andsuitable to his natural notions to conceive that an infinite Almightypower might produce a thing out of nothing, and make that to exist _denovo_, which did not exist before, as to conceive the world to havehad no beginning, but to have existed from eternity, which, were it soproper for this place and exercise, I could easily demonstrate to beattended with no small train of absurdities. But then, besidesthat the acknowledging of a creation is safe, and the denial of itdangerous and irreligious, and yet not more, perhaps much less, demonstrable than the affirmative; so, over and above, it gives methis advantage, that, let it seem never so strange, uncouth, andincomprehensible, the nonplus of my reason will yield a faireropportunity to my faith. 

The work that I shall undertake from these words shall be to show whatthis image of God in man is, and wherein it doth consist. Which Ishall do these two ways: 1. Negatively, by showing wherein it does notconsist. 2. Positively, by showing wherein it does. 

For the first of these we are to remove the erroneous opinion of theSocinians. They deny that the image of God consisted in anyhabitual perfections that adorned the soul of Adam, but, as to hisunderstanding, bring him in void of all notion, a rude, unwrittenblank; making him to be created as much an infant as others are born;sent into the world only to read and to spell out a God in the worksof creation, to learn by degrees, till at length his understandinggrew up to the stature of his body; also without any inherent habitsof virtue in his will; thus divesting him of all, and stripping himof his bare essence; so that all the perfection they allowed hisunderstanding was aptness and docility, and all that they attributedto his will was a possibility to be virtuous. 

But wherein, then, according to their opinion, did this image of Godconsist? Why, in that power and dominion that God gave Adam over thecreatures; in that he was vouched His immediate deputy upon earth, theviceroy of the creation, and lord-lieutenant of the world. But thatthis power and dominion is not adequately and formally the image ofGod, but only a part of it, is clear from hence, because then he thathad most of this would have most of God's image; and consequentlyNimrod had more of it than Noah, Saul than Samuel, the persecutorsthan the martyrs, and Caesar than Christ Himself, which, to assert, is a, blasphemous paradox. And if the image of God is only grandeur, power, and sovereignty, certainly we have been hitherto much mistakenin our duty, and hereafter are by all means to beware of makingourselves unlike God by too much self-denial and humility. I am notignorant that some may distinguish between a lawful authority andactual power, and affirm that God's image consists only in the former, which wicked princes, such, as Saul and Nimrod, have not, tho theypossess the latter. But to this I answer, 1. That the Scripture neither makes nor owns such a distinction, noranywhere asserts that when princes begin to be wicked they cease ofright to be governors. Add to this, that when God renewed this charterof man's sovereignty over the creatures to Noah and his family we findno exception at all, but that Shem stood as fully invested with thisright as any of his brethren. 

2. But, secondly, this savors of something ranker than Socinianism, even the tenants of the fifth monarchy, and of sovereignty foundedonly upon saintship, and therefore fitter to be answered by the judgethan the divine, and to receive its confutation at the bar of justicethan from the pulpit. 

Having now made our way through this false opinion, we are in the nextplace to lay down positively what this image of God in man is. It is, in short, that universal rectitude of all the faculties of the soul, by which they stand apt and disposed to their respective offices andoperations, which will be more fully set forth by taking a distinctsurvey of it in the several faculties belonging to the soul. 

1. In the understanding. 2. In the will. 3. In the passions oraffections. 

I. And, first, for its noblest faculty, the understanding: it wasthen sublime, clear, and aspiring--and, as it were, the soul's upperregion, lofty and serene, free from vapors and disturbances of theinferior affections. It was the leading, controlling faculty; all thepassions wore the colors of reason; it was not consul, but dictator. Discourse was then almost as quick as intuition; it was nimble inproposing, firm in concluding; it could sooner determine than now itcan dispute. Like the sun, it had both light and agility; it knew norest but in motion, no quiet but in activity. It did not so properlyapprehend, as irradiate the object; not so much find, as make thingsintelligible. It did not arbitrate upon the several reports of sense, and all the varieties of imagination, like a drowsy judge, not onlyhearing, but also directing their verdict. In sum, it was vegete, quick, and lively, open as the day, untainted as the morning, full ofthe innocence and sprightliness of youth, it gave the soul a brightand a full view into all things, and was not only a window, but itselfthe prospect. Briefly, there is as much difference between the clearrepresentations of the understanding then and the obscure discoveriesthat it makes now as there is between the prospect of a casement andof a keyhole. 

Now, as there are two great functions of the soul, contemplation andpractise, according to that general division of objects, some of whichonly entertain our speculation, others also employ our actions, so theunderstanding, with relation to these, not because of any distinctionin the faculty itself, is accordingly divided into speculative andpractical; in both of which the image of God was then apparent. 

1. For the understanding speculative. There are some general maximsand notions in the mind of man which are the rules of discourse andthe basis of all philosophy: as, that the same thing can not at thesame time be and not be; that the whole is bigger than a part; thattwo dimensions, severally equal to a third, must also be equal to oneanother. Aristotle, indeed, affirms the mind to be at first a mere_tabula rasa_, and that these notions are not ingenit, and imprintedby the finger of nature, but by the later and more languid impressionsof sense, being only the reports of observation, and the result of somany repeated experiments. 

(1. ) That these notions are universal, and what is universal mustneeds proceed from some universal, constant principle, the same in allparticulars, which here can be nothing else but human nature. 

(2. ) These can not be infused by observation, because they are therules by which men take their first apprehensions and observations ofthings, and therefore, in order of nature, must needs precede them;as the being of the rule must be before its application to the thingdirected by it. From whence it follows that these were notions notdescending from us, but born with us, not our offspring, but ourbrethren; and, as I may so say, such as we were taught without thehelp of a teacher. 

Now it was Adam's happiness in the state of innocence to have theseclear and unsullied. He came into the world a philosopher, whichsufficiently appeared by his writing the nature of things upon theirnames; he could view essences in themselves, and read forms withoutthe comment of their respective properties; he could see consequentsyet dormant in their principles, and effects yet unborn and in thewomb of their causes; his understanding could almost pierce intofuture contingents; his conjectures improving even to prophecy, or thecertainties of prediction; till his fall, it was ignorant of nothingbut sin, or at least it rested in the notion, without the smart of theexperiment. Could any difficulty have been proposed, the resolutionwould have been as early as the proposal; it could not have had timeto settle into doubt. Like a better Archimedes, the issue of all hisinquiries was a _eureka_, a _eureka_, the offspring of hisbrain without the sweat of his brow. Study was not then a duty, night-watchings were needless, the light of reason wanted not theassistance of a candle. This is the doom of fallen man, to labor inthe fire, to seek truth _in profundo_, to exhaust his time and impairhis health, and perhaps to spin out his days and himself into onepitiful, controverted conclusion. There was then no poring, nostruggling with memory, no straining for invention; his faculties werequick and expedite, they answered without knocking, they were readyupon the first summons. 

2. The image of God was no less resplendent in that which we callman's practical understanding; namely, that storehouse of the soul inwhich are treasured up the rules of action, and the seeds of morality;where, we must observe, that many who deny all connate notions in thespeculative intellect, do yet admit them in this. Now of this sort arethese maxims, "That God is to be worshiped, that parents are to behonored, that a man's word is to be kept, " and the like; which, beingof universal influence, as to the regulation of the behavior andconverse of mankind, are the ground of all virtue and civility, andthe foundation of religion. 

It was the privilege of Adam innocent, to have these notions alsofirm and untainted, to carry his monitor in his bosom, his law in hisheart, and to have such a conscience as might be its own casuist;and certainly those actions must needs be regular where there is anidentity between the rule and the faculty. His own mind taught him adue dependence upon God, and chalked out to him the just proportionsand measures of behavior to his fellow creatures. He had no catechismbut the creation, needed no study but reflection, read no book but thevolume of the world, and that too, not for the rules to work by, but for the objects to work upon. Reason was his tutor, and firstprinciples his _magna moralia_. The decalogue of Moses was but atranscript, not an original. All the laws of nations, and wise decreesof states, the statutes of Solon, and the twelve tables, were buta paraphrase upon this standing rectitude of nature, this fruitfulprinciple of justice, that was ready to run out and enlarge itselfinto suitable demonstrations upon all emergent objects and occasions. 

And this much for the image of God, as it shone in man'sunderstanding. 

II. Let us in the next place take a view of it as it was stamped uponthe will. It is much disputed by divines concerning the power of man'swill to good and evil in the state of innocence: and upon very niceand dangerous precipices stand their determinations on either side. Some hold that God invested him with a power to stand so that in thestrength of that power received, he might, without the auxiliaries ofany further influence, have determined his will to a full choiceof good. Others hold that notwithstanding this power, yet it wasimpossible for him to exert it in any good action without a superaddedassistance of grace actually determining that power to the certainproduction of such an act; so that whereas some distinguish betweensufficient and effectual grace, they order the matter so as toacknowledge some sufficient but what is indeed effected, andactually productive of good action. I shall not presume to interposedogmatically in a controversy which I look never to see decided. Butconcerning the latter of these opinions, I shall only give these tworemarks:

1. That it seems contrary to the common and natural conceptions of allmankind, who acknowledge themselves able and sufficient to do manythings which actually they never do. 

2. That to assert that God looked upon Adam's fall as a sin, andpunished it as such when, without any antecedent sin of his, hewithdrew that actual grace from him upon the withdrawing of whichit was impossible for him not to fall, seems a thing that highlyreproaches the essential equity and goodness of the divine nature. 

Wherefore, doubtless the will of man in the state of innocence had anentire freedom, a perfect equipendency and indifference to either partof the contradiction, to stand, or not to stand; to accept, or not toaccept the temptation. I will grant the will of man now to be as mucha slave as any one who will have it, and be only free to sin; that is, instead of a liberty, to have only a licentiousness; yet certainlythis is not nature, but chance. We were not born crooked; we learnedthese windings and turnings of the serpent: and therefore it can notbut be a blasphemous piece of ingratitude to ascribe them to God, andto make the plague of our nature the condition of our creation. 

The will was then ductile and pliant to all the motions of rightreason; it met the dictates of a clarified understanding half way. And the active informations of the intellect, filling the passivereception of the will, like form closing with matter, grew actuateinto a third and distinct perfection of practise; the understandingand will never disagreed; for the proposals of the one never thwartedthe inclinations of the other. Yet neither did the will servilelyattend upon the understanding, but as a favorite does upon his prince, where the service is privilege and preferment; or as Solomon'sservants waited upon him: it admired its wisdom, and heard its prudentdictates and counsels--both the direction and the reward of itsobedience. It is indeed the nature of this faculty to follow asuperior guide--to be drawn by the intellect; but then it was drawnas a triumphant chariot, which at the same time both follows andtriumphs: while it obeyed this, it commanded the other faculties. Itwas subordinate, not enslaved to the understanding: not as a servantto a master, but as a queen to her king, who both acknowledges asubjection and yet retains a majesty. 

III. Pass we now downward from man's intellect and will to thepassions, which have their residence and situation chiefly in thesensitive appetite. For we must know that inasmuch as man is acompound, and mixture of flesh as well as spirit, the soul, during itsabode in the body, does all things by the mediation of these passionsand inferior affections. And here the opinion of the Stoics wasfamous and singular, who looked upon all these as sinful defectsand irregularities, as so many deviations from right reason, makingpassion to be only another word for perturbation. Sorrow in theiresteem was a sin scarce to be expiated by another; to pity, was afault; to rejoice, an extravagance; and the apostle's advice, "to beangry and sin not, " was a contradiction in their philosophy. But inthis they were constantly outvoted by other sects of philosophers, neither for fame nor number less than themselves: so that allarguments brought against them from divinity would come in by way ofoverplus to their confutation. To us let this be sufficient, that ourSavior Christ, who took upon Him all our natural infirmities, but noneof our sinful, has been seen to weep, to be sorrowful, to pity, andto be angry: which shows that there might be gall in a dove, passionwithout sin, fire without smoke, and motion without disturbance. For it is not bare agitation, but the sediment at the bottom, thattroubles and defiles the water; and when we see it windy and dusty, the wind does not (as we used to say) make, but only raise a dust. 

Now, tho the schools reduce all the passions to these two heads, theconcupiscible and the irascible appetite, yet I shall not tie myselfto an exact prosecution of them under this division; but at this time, leaving both their terms and their method to themselves, consider onlythe principal and noted passions, from whence we may take an estimateof the rest. 

And first for the grand leading affection of all, which is love. Thisis the great instrument and engine of nature, the bond and cementof society, the spring and spirit of the universe. Love is such anaffection as can not so properly be said to be in the soul as the soulto be in that. It is the whole man wrapt up into one desire; allthe powers, vigor, and faculties of the soul abridged into oneinclination. And it is of that active, restless nature that it mustof necessity exert itself; and, like the fire to which it is so oftencompared, it is not a free agent, to choose whether it will heator no, but it streams forth by natural results and unavoidableemanations. So that it will fasten upon any inferior, unsuitableobject, rather than none at all. The soul may sooner leave off tosubsist than to love; and, like the vine, it withers and dies if ithas nothing to embrace. Now this affection, in the state of innocence, was happily pitched upon its right object; it flamed up in directfervors of devotion to God, and in collateral emissions of charity toits neighbor. It was not then only another and more cleanly namefor lust. It had none of those impure heats that both represent anddeserve hell. It was a vestal and a virgin fire, and differed as muchfrom that which usually passes by this name nowadays as the vital heatfrom the burning of a fever. 

Then for the contrary passion of hatred. This we know is the passionof defiance, and there is a kind of aversation and hostility includedin its very essence and being. But then (if there could have beenhatred in the world when there was scarce anything odious) it wouldhave acted within the compass of its proper object; like aloes, bitterindeed, but wholesome. There would have been no rancor, no hatred ofour brother: an innocent nature could hate nothing that was innocent. In a word, so great is the commutation that the soul then hated onlythat which now only it loves, that is, sin. 

And if we may bring anger under this head, as being, according tosome, a transient hatred, or at least very like it, this also, asunruly as now it is, yet then it vented itself by the measures ofreason. There was no such thing as the transports of malice or theviolences of revenge, no rendering evil for evil, when evil was trulya nonentity and nowhere to be found. Anger, then, was like the swordof justice, keen, but innocent and righteous: it did not act likefury, then call itself zeal. It always espoused God's honor, and neverkindled upon anything but in order to a sacrifice. It sparkled likethe coal upon the altar with the fervors of piety, the heats ofdevotion, the sallies and vibrations of a harmless activity. 

In the next place, for the lightsome passion of joy. It was not thatwhich now often usurps this name; that trivial, vanishing, superficialthing, that only gilds the apprehension and plays upon the surface ofthe soul. It was not the mere crackling of thorns or sudden blaze ofthe spirits, the exultation of a tickled fancy or a pleased appetite. Joy was then a masculine and a severe thing; the recreation of thejudgment, the jubilee of reason. It was the result of a real good, suitably applied. It commenced upon the solidity of truth and thesubstance of fruition. It did not run out in voice or indecenteruptions, but filled the soul, as God does the universe, silently andwithout noise. It was refreshing, but composed, like the pleasantnessof youth tempered with the gravity of age; or the mirth of a festivalmanaged with the silence of contemplation. 

And, on the other side, for sorrow: Had any loss or disaster made butroom for grief, it would have moved according to the severe allowancesof prudence, and the proportions of the provocation. It would not havesallied out into complaint of loudness, nor spread itself upon theface, and writ sad stories upon the forehead. No wringing of hands, knocking the breast, or wishing oneself unborn; all which are but theceremonies of sorrow, the pomp and ostentation of an effeminate grief, which speak not so much the greatness of the misery as the smallnessof the mind! Tears may spoil the eyes, but not wash away theaffliction. Sighs may exhaust the man, but not eject the burden. Sorrow, then, would have been as silent as thought, as severe asphilosophy. It would have been rested in inward senses, tacitdislikes; and the whole scene of it been transacted in sad and silentreflections. .. . 

And, lastly, for the affection of fear: It was then the instrument ofcaution, not of anxiety; a guard, and not a torment to the breast thathad it. It is now indeed an unhappiness, the disease of the soul: itflies from a shadow, and makes more dangers than it avoids; it weakensthe judgment and betrays the succors of reason: so hard is it totremble and not to err, and to hit the mark with a shaking hand. Thenit fixt upon Him who is only to be feared, God; and yet with a filialfear, which at the same time both fears and loves. It was awe withoutamazement, dread without distraction. There was then a beauty even inthis very paleness. It was the color of devotion, giving a luster toreverence and a gloss to humility. 

Thus did the passions then act without any of their present jars, combats, or repugnances; all moving with the beauty of uniformityand the stillness of composure; like a well-governed army, not forfighting, but for rank and order. I confess the Scripture does notexpressly attribute these several endowments to Adam in his firstestate. But all that I have said, and much more, may be drawn out ofthat short aphorism, "God made man upright. " And since the oppositeweaknesses infest the nature of man fallen, if we will be true to therules of contraries we must conclude that these perfections were thelot of man innocent. .. . 

Having thus surveyed the image of God in the soul of man, we are notto omit now those characters of majesty that God imprinted upon thebody. He drew some traces of His image upon this also, as much as aspiritual substance could be pictured upon a corporeal. As for thesect of the Anthropomorphites, who from hence ascribe to God thefigure of a man, eyes, hands, feet, and the like, they are tooridiculous to deserve a confutation. They would seem to draw thisimpiety from the letter of the Scripture sometimes speaking of God inthis manner. Absurdity! as if the mercy of Scripture expressions oughtto warrant the blasphemy of our opinions; and not rather to show usthat God condescends to us only to draw us to Himself; and clothesHimself in our likeness only to win us to His own. The practise ofthe papists is much of the same nature, in their absurd and impiouspicturing of God Almighty; but the wonder in them is the less sincethe image of a deity may be a proper object for that which is butthe image of a religion. But to the purpose: Adam was then no lessglorious in his externals; he had a beautiful body, as well as animmortal soul. The whole compound was like a well-built temple, stately without, and sacred within. The elements were at perfect unionand agreement in His body; and their contrary qualities served not forthe dissolution of the compound, but the variety of the composure. Galen, who had no more divinity than what his physic taught him, barely upon the consideration of this so exact frame of the body, challenges any one, upon a hundred years' study, to find out how anythe least fiber, or most minute particle, might be more commodiouslyplaced, either for the advantage of use or comeliness. His statureerect, and tending upward to his center; his countenance majesticand comely, with the luster of a native beauty that scorned the poorassistance of art or the attempts of imitation; His body of so muchquickness and agility that it did not only contain but also representthe soul; for we might well suppose that where God did deposit so richa jewel He would suitably adorn the case. It was a fit workhouse forsprightly, vivid faculties to exercise and exert themselves in; afit tabernacle for an immortal soul, not only to dwell in, but tocontemplate upon; where it might see the world without travel, itbeing a lesser scheme of the creation, nature contracted a littlecosmography or map of the universe. Neither was the body then subjectto distempers, to die by piecemeal, and languish under coughs, catarrhs, or consumptions. Adam knew no disease so long as temperancefrom the forbidden fruit secured him. Nature was his physician, andinnocence and abstinence would have kept him healthful to immortality. 

The two great perfections that both adorn and exercise man'sunderstanding, are philosophy and religion: for the first of these, take it even among the professors of it where it most flourished, andwe shall find the very first notions of common-sense debauched bythem. For there have been such as have asserted, "that there is nosuch thing in the world as motion: that contradictions may be true. "There has not been wanting one that has denied snow to be white. Sucha stupidity or wantonness had seized upon the most raised wits that itmight be doubted whether the philosophers or the owls of Athenswere the quicker sighted. But then for religion; what prodigious, monstrous, misshapen births has the reason of fallen man produced!It is now almost six thousand years that far the greater part of theworld has had no other religion but idolatry: and idolatry certainlyis the first-born of folly, the great and leading paradox, nay, thevery abridgment and sum total of all absurdities. For is it notstrange that a rational man should worship an ox, nay, the image of anox? That he should fawn upon his dog? Bow himself before a cat? Adoreleeks and garlic, and shed penitential tears at the smell of a deifiedonion? Yet so did the Egyptians, once the famed masters of all artsand learning. And to go a little further, we have yet a strongerinstance in Isaiah, "A man hews him down a tree in the wood, and apart of it he burns, with the residue thereof he maketh a god. " Withone part he furnishes his chimney, with the other his chapel. Astrange thing that the fire must first consume this part and then burnincense to that. As if there was more divinity in one end of thestick than in the other; or, as if he could be graved and paintedomnipotent, or the nails and the hammer could give it an apotheosis!Briefly, so great is the change, so deplorable the degradation of ournature, that whereas we bore the image of God, we now retain only theimage of man. 

In the last place, we learn hence the excellency of Christianreligion, in that it is the great and only means that God hassanctified and designed to repair the breaches of humanity, to setfallen man upon his legs again, to clarify his reason, to rectify hiswill, and to compose and regulate his affections. The whole businessof our redemption is, in short, only to rub over the defaced copy ofthe creation, to reprint God's image upon the soul, and, as it were, to set forth nature in a second and fairer edition; the recovery ofwhich lost image, as it is God's pleasure to command, and our duty toendeavor, so it is in His power only to effect; to whom be renderedand ascribed, as is most due, all praise, might, majesty, anddominion, both now and forever more. Amen. 

END OF VOL. II.