THEOLOGICAL

m*EL

BX 8915 .F58 1820 v. 1 Flavel, John, 16307-1691 The whole works of John Flavel

WORKS c^t£5

OF THE

IN SIX VOLUMES.

LONDON:

OF THE LATE

HOSE of the name of Flavel derive their pedigree from one who was the third great officer that came over with William the Conqueror ; bnt this worthy Divine was far from that weakness and vanity to boast of any thing of that nature, being of the poefs mind, who said,

Et genus, et proavos, et quae nonfecimus ipsi>

Vix ea nostra voco

His father was Mr. Richard Flavel, a painful and eminent minister. He was first minister at Broomsgrove, in Worcestershire, then at Hasler, and removed from thence to Willersey, in Gloucestershire, where he continued to 1660, whence he was outed upon the restoration of King Charles II. because it was a sequestered living, and the incumbent then alive: this did not so much affect Mr. Flavel, as that he wanted a fixed place for the exercise of his pastoral function. He was a person of such extraordinary piety, that those who conversed with him, said, They never heard one vain word drop from his mouth. A little before the turning out of the Nonconformist ministers, being near Totness, in Devon, he preached from Hosea vii. 6. The days of visitation are come, the days of recommence are come9 Israel shall knozv it. His application was so close, that it offended some people, and occasioned his being carried before some Justices of the Peace; but they could not reach him, so that he was discharged. He afterwards quitted that country, and his son's house, which was his retiring place, and came to London, where he continued in a faithful and acceptable discharge of his office, till the time of the dreadful plague in 1665, that he was taken and imprisoned in the manner following. He was at Mr. Blake's house in Co vent-Garden, where some people had met privately for worship: whilst he was at prayer, a party of soldiers brake in upon them, with their swords Vol. I. A

drawn and demanded their preacher, threatening some, and flattering others to discover him, but in vain. Some of the company threw a coloured cloak over him, and in this disguise he was, together with his hearers, carried to Whitehall; the women were dismissed, but the men were detained and forced to he all that night upon the bare floor; and, because they would not pay five pounds each, were sent to Newgate, where the pestilence raged most violently, as in other places of the city. Here Mr. Flavel and his wife were shut up, and seized with the sickness: they were bailed out, but died of the contagion; of which their son John had a divine monition given him by a dream, as we shall observe in its proper place. Mr. Richard Flavel left two sons behind him, both ministers of the gospel, viz. John and Phinehas.

John the eldest was born in Worcestershire. It was observable, that whilst his mother lay in with him, a nightingale made her nest in the out-side of the chamber- window, where she used to sing most sweetly. He was religiously educated by his father, and having profited well at the grammar schools, was sent early to Oxford, and settled a commoner in University College. He plied his studies hard, and exceeded many of his contemporaries in university learning.

Soon after his commencing batchelor of arts, Mr. Walplate, the minister of Diptford, in the county of Devon, was rendered uncapable of performing his office by reason of his age and infirmity, and sent to Oxford for an assistant; Mr. Flavel, though but young, was recommended to him as a person duly qualified, and was accordingly settled there by the standing committee of Devon, April 27, 1650* to preach as a probationer and assistant to Mr. Walplate.

Mr. Flavel considering the weight of his charge, applied himself to the work of his calling with great diligence; and being assiduous in reading, meditation and prayer, he increased in ministerial knowledge daily, (for he found himself that he came raw enough in that respect from the university) so that he attained to an high degree of eminency and reputation for his useful labours in the church.

About six months after his settling at Diptford, he heard of an ordination to be at Salisbury, and therefore went thither with his testimonials, and offered himself to be examined and ordained by the presbytery there: they appointed him a text, upon which he preached to their general satisfaction; and having afterwards examined him as to his learning, fyc. they set him apart to the work of the ministry, with prayer and imposition of hands, on the 17th day of October, 1650.

Mr. Flavel being thus ordained, returned to Diptford, and after Mr. Walplate" s death succeeded in the rectory. To avoid all incumbrances from the world, and avocations from his studies and ministerial work, he chose a person of worth and reputation in the parish (of whom he had a good assurance that he would be faithful to himself, and kind to his parishioners) and let him the whole tithes much below the real value, which was very pleasing to his people. By this means he was the better able to deal with them in private, since the hire of his labours was no way a hindrance to the success of them.

Whilst he was at Diptford he married one Mrs. Jane Randal, a pious gentlewoman, of a good family, who died in travail of her first child without being delivered* His year of mourning being expired, his acquaintance and intimate friends advised him to mar- ^7. , jr ry a second time, wherein he was again very happy. „ Sometime after this second marriage, the people of Dartmouth (a great and noted sea-port in the county of Devon, formerly under the charge of the Reverend Mr. Anthony Hartford, deceased) unanimously chose Mr. Flavel to succeed him. They urged him to accept their call, (1.) Because there were exceptions made against all the other candidates, but none against him. (2.) Because, being acceptable to the whole town, he was the more like to be an instrument of healing the breaches among the good people there. (3.) Because Dartmouth, being a considerable and populous town, required an able and eminent minister, which was not so necessary for a country-parish, that might besides be more easily supplied with another pastor than Dartmouth.

That which made them more pressing and earnest with Mr. Flavel* was this; at a provincial synod in that county, Mr. Flavel, though but a young man, was voted into the chair as moderator, where he opened the assembly with a most devout and pertinent prayer; he examined the candidates who offered themselves to their trials for the ministry with great learning, stated the cases and questions proposed to them with much acuteness and judgment, and in the whole demeaned himself with that gravity, piety, and seriousness, during his presidency, that all the ministers of the assembly admired and loved him. The Reverend Mr. Hartford* his predecessor at Dartmouth, took particular notice of him, from that time forward contracted a strict friendship with him, and spoke of him among the magistrates and people of Dartmouth, as an extraordinary person, who was like to be a great light in the church. This, with their having several times heard him preach, occasioned their importunity with Mr. Flavel to come and be their minister; upon which, having spread his case before the Lord, and submitted to the decision of his neighbouring ministers, he was prevailed upon to remove to Darmouth, to his great loss in temporals, the rectory of Diptford being a much greater benefice.

Mr. Flavel being settled at Dartmouth by the election of people, and an order from Whitehall by the commissioners for approbation of public preachers, of the 10th of December, 1656, he was associated with Mr. Allein Geere, a very worthy, but sickly, man. The ministerial work was thus divided betwixt them; Mr, Flavel was

to preach on the LorcTs-day at Townstall, the mother-church standing upon a hill without the town; and every fortnight in his turn at the Wednesday's Lecture in Dartmouth. Here God crowned his labours with many conversions. One of his judicious hearers expressed himself thus concerning him; " I could say much, though " not enough, of the excellency of his preaching; of his seasonable, " suitable and spiritual matter; of his plain expositions of scripture, " his taking method, his genuine and natural deductions, his con- " vincing arguments, his clear and powerful demonstrations, his " heart-searching applications, and his comfortable supports to those " that were afflicted in conscience. In short that person must have " a very soft head, or a very hard heart, or both, that could sit " under his ministry unaffected."

By his unwearied application to study, he had accquired a great stock both of divine and human learning. He was master of the controversies betwixt the Jews and Christians, Papists and Protestants, Lutherans and Calvinists, and betwixt the Orthodox, and the Arminians and Socinians! he was likewise well read in the Controversies about Church-discipline, Infant-!Baptism, and Antinomianism. He was well acquainted with the School-divinity, and drew up a judicious and ingenious scheme of the whole body of that Theology in good Latin, which he presented to a person of quality, but it was never printed. He had one way of improving his knowledge, which is very proper for young divines; whatever remarkable passage he heard in private conference, if he was familiar with the relator, he would desire him to repeat it again, and insert it into his Aversaria: by these methods he acquired a vast stock of proper materials for his popular sermons in the pulpit, and his more elaborate works for the press.

When the act of uniformity turned him out with the rest of his nonconforming brethren, he did not thereupon quit his relation to his church, he thought the souls of his flock to be more precious than to be so tamely neglected; he took all opportunities of ministring the word and sacraments to them in private meetings, and joined with other ministers in solemn days of fasting and humiliation, to pray that God would once more restore the ark of his covenant unto his afflicted Israel. About four months after that fatal Bartholomew day, his reverend colleague, Mr. Allein Geere, died; so that the whole care of the flock devolved upon Mr. Flavel, which, though a heavy and pressing burden, he undertook very cheerfully.

Upon the execution of the Oxford act, which banished all nonconformist ministers five miles from any towns which sent members to parliament, he was forced to leave Dartmouth, to the great sorrow of his people, who followed him out of town; and at Townstall church-yard they took such a mournful farewell of one another as the place might very well have been called Bochim. He removed to Slapton, a parish five miles from Dartmouth, or any other corporation, which put him out of the legal reach of his adversaries. Here he met with signal instances of God's fatherly care and protection, and preached twice every LordVday to such as durst adventure to hear him, which many of his own people and others did, notwithstanding the rigour and severity of the act against conventicles. He many times slipped privately into Dartmouth, where by preaching and conversation he edified his flock, to the great refreshment of his own soul and theirs, though with very much danger, because of his watchful adversaries, who constantly laid wait for him, so that he could not make any long stay in the town.

In those times Mr. Flavel being at Exeter, was invited to preach by many good people of that city, who for safety chose a wood about three miles from the city to be the place of their assembly, where they were broke up by their enemies by that time the sermon was well begun, Mr. Flavel, by the care of the people, made his escape through the middle of his enraging enemies; and though many of his hearers were taken, carried before Justice Tuckfield, and fined; yet the rest, being nothing discouraged, re-assembled, and carrying Mr. Flavel to another wood, he preached to them without any disturbance; and, after he had concluded, rode to a gentleman's house near the wood, who, though an absolute stranger to Mr. Flavel, entertained him with great civility that night, and next day he returned to Exeter in safety. Amongst those taken at this time, there was a Tanner who had a numerous family, and but a small stock; he was fined notwith standing in forty pounds; at which he was nothing discouraged, but told a friend, who asked him how he bore up under his loss, That he took the spoiling of his goods joy fully ^ for the sake of his Lord Jesus,for whom his life and all that he had was too little.

As soon as the Nonconformists had any respite from their trouble, Mr. Flavel laid hold of the opportunity, and returned to Darmouth, where, during the first indulgence granted by King Charles II. he kept open doors, and preached freely to all that would come and hear him; and when that liberty was revoked, he made it his business notwithstanding to preach in season and out of season, and seldom missed of an opportunity of preaching on the LordVday. During this time, God was pleased to deprive him of his second wife,

which was a great affliction, she having been a help-meet for him; and such an one he stood much in need of, as being a man of an infirm and weak constitution, who laboured under many infirmities. In convenient time he married a third wife, Mrs. Ann Downe, daughter of Mr. Thomas Downe, minister of Exeter, who lived very happily with him eleven years, and left him two sons, who are youths of great hopes.

The persecution against the Nonconformists being renewed, Mr. Flavel found it unsafe to stay at Dartmouth, and therefore resolved to go to London, where he hoped to be in less danger, and to have more liberty to exercise his function. The night before be embarked for that end, he had the following premonition by a dream; he thought he was on board the ship, and that a storm arose which exceedingly terrified the: passengers, during their consternation there sat writing at the table a person of admirable sagacity and gravity, who had a child in a cradle by him that was very fro ward; he thought he saw the father take up a little whip, and give the child a lash, saying, Child be quiet, I will discipline, but not hurt thee. Upon this Mr, Flavel awaked, and musing on his dream, he concluded, that he should meet with some trouble in his passage: his friends being at dinner with him, assured him of a pleasant passage, because the wind and weather were very fair; Mr. Flavel replied, That he was not of their mind, but expected much trouble because of his dream, adding, that when he had such representations made to him. in his sleep, they seldom or never Jailed.

Accordinglv, when they were advanced within five leagues of Portland in their voyage, they were overtaken by a dreadful tempest, insomuch that betwixt one and two in the morning, the master and seamen concluded, that, unless God changed the wind, there was no hope of life; it was impossible for them to weather Portland, so that they must of necessity be wrecked on the rocks or on the shore. Upon this Mr. Flavel called all the hands that could be spared into the cabin to prayer; but the violence of the tempest was such, that they could not prevent themselves from being thrown from the one side unto the other as the ship was tossed; and not only so, but mighty seas broke in upon them, as if they would have drowned them in the very cabin. Mr. Flavel in this danger took hold of the two pillars of the cabin bed, and calling upon God, begged mercy for himself and the rest in the ship. Amongst other arguments in prayer, he made use of this, that if he and his company perished in that storm, the name of God would be blasphemed, the enemies of religion would say, that though he escaped their hands on shore, yet divine vengeance had overtaken him at sen. In the midst of prayer his faith and hope were raised, insomuch that he expected a gracious answer; so that, committing himself and his company to the mercy of God, he concluded the duty. No sooner was prayer ended, but one came down from the deck, crying, j&d'rcerancc!

Deliverance! God is a God hearing prayer! In a moment the wind is come fair west! And so sailing before it, they were brought safely to London. Mr. Flavel found many of his old friends there; tand God raised him new ones, with abundance of work, and extraordinary encouragement in it. During his stay in London, he married his fourth wife, a widow gentlewoman, (daughter to Mr. George Jeffries, formerly minister of King's-Bridge) out now his sorrowful relict.

Mr. Flavel, while he was in London, narrowly escaped being taken, with the reverend Mr. Jenkins, at Mr. Fox's in Moorfields, where they were keeping a day of fasting and prayer. He was so near, that he heard the insolence of the officers and soldiers to Mr. Jenkins when they had taken him; and observed it in his diary, that Mr. Jenkins might have escaped as well as himself, had it not been for a piece of vanity in a lady, whose long train hindered his going down stairs, Mr. Jenkins, out of his too great civility having let her pass before him.

Mr. Flavel after this, returned to Dartmouth, where with his family and dear people he blessed God for his mercies towards him. He was in a little time after confined close prisoner to his house, where many of his dear flock stole in over night, or betimes on the Lord'sday in the morning, to enjoy the benefit of his labours, and spend the sabbath in hearing, praying, singing of psalms, and holy discourses.

Mr. Jenkins, abovementioned, dying in prison, his people gave Mr. Flavel a call to the pastoral office among them, and Mr. Reeve's people did the like. Mr. Flavel communicated these calls unto his flock, and kept a day of prayer with them to beg direction of God in this important affair; he was graciously pleased to answer them by fixing Mr. Flavel's resolution to stay with his flock at Dartmouth. Many arguments were made use of to persuade him to come to London, as, that since he was turned out by the act of uniformity, he had had but very little maintenance from his church; that those at London were rich and numerous congregations; that he had a family and children to provide for; and that the city was a theatre of honour and reputation. But none of these things could prevail with him to leave his poor people at Dartmouth.

In 1687, when it pleased God so to over-rule affairs, that King James II. thought it his interest to dispense with the penal laws against them, Mr. Flavel, who had formerly been confined to a corner, shone brightly, as a flaming beacon upon the top of an hill. Plis affectionate people prepared a large place for him, where God blessed his labours to the conviction of many people, by his sermons on Rev. iii. 20. Behold I stand at the door and AiiocJc. This encouraged him to print those sermons, under the title of England's Duty, $c. hoping that it might do good abroad, as well as in his own congregation. He made a vow to the Lord under his confinement, that if lie should

be once more entrusted with public liberty, he would improve it to the advantage of the gospel; this he performed in a most conscientious manner, preached twice every Lord's-day, and lectured every Wednesdav, in which he went over most of the 3d chapter of St John's gospel, shewing the indispensible necessity of regeneration. He preached likewise every Thursday before the sacrament, and then after examination admitted communicants. He had no assistance on sacramen t-davs, so that he was many times almost spent before he distributed the elements. "When the duty of the day was over, he would often complain of a sore breast, an aking head, and a pained back; yet he would be early at study again next Monday. He allowed himself very little recreation, accounting time a precious jewel that ought to be improved at any rate.

He was not only a zealous preacher in the pulpit, but a sincere Christian in his closet, frequent in self-examination, as well as in pressing it upon others; being afraid, lest while he preached to others he himself should be a cast-away. To prove this, I shall transcribe what follows from his own diary.

" To make sure of eternal life, (said he) is the great business " which the sons of death have to do in this world. Whether a " man consider the immortality of his own soul, the ineffable joys " and glory of heaven, the extreme and endless torments of hell, " the inconceivable sweetness of peace of conscience, or the misery " of being subject to the terrors thereof; all these put a necessity, " a solemnity, a glory upon this work. But, Oh! the difficulties " and dangers attending it! How many, and how great are these? " What judgment, faithfulness, resolution, and watchfulness doth " it require? Such is the deceitfulness, darkness, and inconstancy of " our hearts, and such the malice, policy and diligence of Satan to " manage and improve it, that he who attempts this work had need? both to watch his seasons for it, and frequently look up to God for " his guidance and illumination, and to spend many sad and serious " thoughts before he adventure upon a determination and conclusion " of the state of his soul.

" To the end therefore that this most important work may not " miscarry in my hands, I have collected, with all the care I can, " the best and soundest characters I can find in the writings of our " modern divines, taken out of the scripture, and by their labours " illustrated and prepared for use, that I might make a right appli- " cation of them.

" 1. I have earnestly sought the Lord for the assistance of his " Spirit, which can only manifest my own heart unto me, and shew " me the true state thereof, which is that thing my soul doth most ff earnestly disire to know; and I hope the Lord will answer my de- " sire therein, according to his promises, Luke xi. 13. John xiv. 26.

" 2. I have endeavoured to cast out and lay aside self-love, lest

" ray heart being prepossessed therewith, my judgment sliould be perverted, and become partial on passing sentence on my estate. " I have, in some measure, brought my heart to be willing to judge " and condemn myself for an hypocrite, if such I shall be found on " trial, as to approve myself for sincere and upright. Yea, I would " have it so far from being grievous to me so to do, that if I have " been all this while mistaken and deceived, I shall rejoice and bless ci the Lord with my soul, that now at last it may be discovered to me, " and I may be set right, though I lay the foundation new again. " This I have laboured to bring my heart to, knowing that thou- " sands have dashed and split to pieces upon this rock. And indeed " he that will own the person of a judge, must put off the person of " a friend.

" 3. It hath been my endeavour to keep upon my heart a deep " sense of that great judgment-day throughout this work; as know- <* ing by experience what a potent influence this hath on the con- " science, to make it deliberate, serious and faithful in its work; and ** therefore I have demanded of my own conscience, before the reso- " lution of each question, O my conscience, deal faithfully with me *f in this particular, and say no more to me than thou wilt own and '• stand to in the great day, when the counsels of all hearts shall be " made manifest.

" 4. Having seriously weighed each mark, and considered where- " in the weight and substance of it lieth, I have gone to the Lord in " prayer for his assistance, ere I have drawn up the answer of my *-' conscience; and as my heart hath been persuaded therein, so have '.' I determined and resolved: what hath been clear to my experience, f I have so set down; and what hath been dubious, I have here left " it so.

" 5. I have made choice of the fittest seasons I had for this work, " and set to it when I have found my heart in the most quiet and " serious frame. For as he that would see his face in a glass, must " be fixed, not in motion, or in water, must make no commotion in i( it; so it is in this case.

" 6. Lastly, To the end I may be successful in this work, I have " laboured all along carefully to distinguish betwixt such sins as are *■ grounds of doubting, and such as are only grounds of humiliation; " knowing that not every evil is a ground of doubting, though all, " even the smallest infirmities, administer matter of humiliation; and " thus I have desired to enterprize this great business. O Lord, " assist thy servant, that he may not mistake herein; but, if his con- " science do now condemn him, he may lay a better foundation whilst " he hath time; and if it shall now acquit him, he may also have " boldness in the day of judgment.""

These things being previously dispatched, he tried himself by the scripture marks of sincerity and regeneration; by this means he attained to a well-grounded assurance, the ravishing comforts of which were many times shed abroad in his soul; this made him a powerfuland successful preacher, as one who spoke from his own heart to those of others. He preached what he felt, what he had handled, what he had seen and tasted of the word of life, and they felt it also.

We may guess what a sweet and blessed intercourse he had with heaven, from that history we meet with in his Pneumatologia, p. 323. which I refer to, and likewise of that revelation he had of his father and mother's death, p. 339. He was a mighty wrestler with God in secret prayer, and particularly begged of him to crown his sermons, printed books and private discourses, with the conversion of poor sinners, a work which his heart was much set upon. It pleased God to answer him by many instances, of which the two that follow deserve peculiar notice.

In 1673, there came into Dartmouth port a ship of Pool, in her return from Virginia ; the Surgeon of this ship, a lusty young man of 23 years of age, fell into a deep melancholy, which the Devil im-

? roved to make him murder himself. This he attempted on the iOrdVday, early in the morning, when he was in bed with his brother; he first cut his own throat with a knife he had prepared on purpose, and leaping out of the K d, thrust it likewise into his stomach, and so lay wallowing in his own blood, till his brother awaked and cried for help. A Physician and Surgeon were brought, who concluded the wound in his throat mortal; they stitched it up however, and applied a plaister, but without hopes of cure, because he already breathed through the wound, and his voice was become inarticulate. Mr. Flavel came to visit him in this condition, and apprehending him to be within a few minutes of eternity, laboured to prepare him for it; he asked him his own apprehensions of his condition, and the young man answered, that he hoped in God for eternal life. Mr. Flavel replied, that he feared his hopes were illgrounded: the scripture tells us, that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him: self-murder was the grossest of all murder, Sfc. Mr. Flavel insisted so much on the aggravations of the crime, that the young man's conscience began to fail, his heart began to melt, and then he broke out into tears, bewailing his sin and misery, and asked Mr. Flavel, If there might yet be any hope for him? he told him there might; and finding him altogether unacquainted with the nature of faith and repentance, he opened them to him. The poor man sucked in this doctrine greedily, prayed with great vehemence to God, that he would work them on his soul, and entreated Mr. Flavel to pray with him, and for him, that he might be, though late, a sincere gospel-penitent, and sound believer. Mr. Flavel prayed with him accordingly, and it pleased God exceedingly to melt the young man's heart, during the performance of that duty. He was very loth to part with Mr. Flavel, but the duty of the day obliging him to be

REVEREND MR. JOHN FLAVEL. X11I

gone, in a few words lie summed up those counsels that he thought most necessary, and so took his farewell of him, never expecting to see him any more in this world. But it pleased God to order it otherwise; the young man continued alive contrary to all expectation, panted earnestly after the Lord Jesus, and no discourse was pleasing to him, but that of Christ and faith. In this frame Mr. Flavel found him in the evening; he rejoiced greatly when he saw him come again, untreated him to continue his discourse upon those subjects, and told him, Sir, the Lord hath given me repentance for this and for all my other sins; I see the evil of them now, so as I never saw them before!

0 I loathe myself! I do also believe, Lord, help my unbelief. I am hear-tily willing to take Christ upon his own terms ; but one thing troubles me, I doubt this bloody sin will not be pardoned. Will Jesus Christ, said he, apply his blood to one, who has shed his own blood? Mr. Flavel told him, that the Lord Jesus shed hisblood for them who with wicked hands had shed his own blood, which was a greater sin than the shedding of his ; to which the wounded man replied,

1 will cast myself upon Christ, let him do what he will. In this condition Mr. Flavel left him that night.

Next morning his wounds were to be opened, and the Surgeon's opinion was, that he would immediately expire: Mr Flavel was again requested to give him a visit, which he did, found him in a very serious frame, and prayed with him. The wound in his stomach was afterwards opened, when the ventricle was so much swoln, that it came out at the orifice of the wound, and lay like a livid discoloured tripe upon his body, and was also cut through; every one thought it impossible for him to live; however, the Surgeon enlarged the orifice of the wound, fomented it, and wrought the ventricle again into his body, and, stitching up the wound, left his patient to the disposal of providence.

It pleased God that he was cured of those dangerous wounds in his body; and, upon solid grounds of a rational charity, there was ground to believe that he was also cured of that more dangerous wound which sin had made in his soul. Mr. Flavel spent many hours with him during his sickness; and when the Surgeon returned to Pool, after his recovery, Mr. Samuel Hardy, that worthy minister there, thanked Mr. Flavel in a letter, for the great pains he had taken with that young man, and congratulated his success, assuring him, that if ever a great and thorough work was wrought, it was upon that man.

The second instance is this: Mr. Flavel being in London in 1673, his old bookseller, Mr. Boulter, gave him this following relation, viz. That some time before, there came into his shop a sparkish gentleman to enquire for some play-books; Mr. Boulter told him he had none, but shewed him Mr. Flavel's little treatise of Keeping the Heart, intreated him to read it, and assured him it would do him more good

than play-books. The gentleman read the title, and glancing upon several pages here and there, broke out into these and such other expressions, What a damnable Fanatic was he who made this book? Mr. Boulter begged of him to buy and read it, and told him he had no cause to censure it so bitterly; at last he bought it, but told him he would not read it. What will you do with it then, said Mr. Boulter? I will tear and burn it, said he, and send it to the Devil. Mr. Boulter told him, that he should not have it. Upon this the gentleman promised to read it; and Mr. Boulter told him, if he disliked it upon reading, he would return him his money. About a month after, the gentleman came to the shop again in a very modest habit, and with a serious countenance, bespoke Mr. Boulter thus; Sir, I most heartily thank you for putting this book into my hands; I bless God that moved you to do it, it hath saved my soul; blessed be God that ever I came into your shop. And then he bought a hundred more of those books of him, and told him he would give them to the poor who could not buy them, and so left him, praising and admiring the goodness of God. Thus it pleased God to bless the sermons, discourses and writings of Mr. Flavel.

He never delighted in controversies, but was obliged, contrary to his inclination, to write against Mr. Cary, the principal Anabaptist in Dartmouth, with whom, however, he maintained a friendly and Christian correspondence. When he wrote his Planelogia, or, Blow at the Root, he declared to his friends, that though those studies were very necessary, he took no pleasure in them, but had rather be employed in practical divinity. When he composed his Reasonableness of Personal Reformation, he told an intimate acquaintance of his, that he seldom had a vain thought to interrupt him, which made him hope it would do the more good in the world. He purposed to have enlarged his book of Sacramental Meditations, and had most judiciously stated and handled several cases of conscience on that occasion, which he designed to have inserted in the next edition, but lived not to finish them for the press.

Many times, when he preached abroad, he has had letters sent him from unknown persons, informing him how God had blessed his ministry to their souls, and converted them from being bitter enemies to religion. This encouraged him when he rode abroad, not only to accept of invitations to preach, but many times to offer his labours unto those that would be pleased to hear him; though for this he had no occasion where he was known, the people being generally importunate with him. One day after a long and hard journey, an intimate friend of his, out of a tender regard to him, pressed him with cogent arguments to forbear preaching at that season, but could not prevail with him; his bowels of compassion to needy and perishing souls made him overlook all considerations of himself: he preached

an excellent sermon, by which there was one converted, as he declared himself afterwards upon his admission to the Lord's table.

The last sermon that he preached to his people at Dartmouth, was on a public day of fasting and humiliation; in the close of which he was enlarged in such an extraordinary manner, when offering up praises to God for mercies received, that he seemed to be in an ecstasy. This happened about a week before his death, and may justly be accounted a foretaste of those heavenly raptures that he now enjoys amongst the blessed spirits above.

The last sermon he preached was on the 21st of June, 1691, at Ashburton, from 1 Cor. x. 12. Wherefore let him that standeth take heed lest he fall. It was a very pathetical discourse, tending to awaken careless professors, and to stir them up to be solicitous about their souls. After having preached this sermon, he went to Exeter; and at Topsham, within three miles of that city, he presided as moderator in an assembly of the Nonconformist ministers of Devonshire, who unanimously voted him into the chair: the occasion of their meeting was about an union betwixt the presbyterians and Independents, which Mr. Flavel was very zealous to promote, and brought to so great an issue in those parts, that the ministers declared their satisfaction with the heads of agreement concluded on by the London ministers of those denominations. Mr. Flavel closed the work of the day with prayer and praises, in which his spirit was carried out with wonderful enlargement and affection,

He wrote a letter to an eminent minister in London, with an account of their proceedings, that same day that he died; providence ordering it so, that he should finish that good work his heart was so intent upon, before he finished his course.

The manner of his death was sudden and surprising; his friends thought him as well that day in the evening of which he died, as he had been for many years: towards the end of supper he complained of a deadness in one of his hands, that he could not lift it to his head. This struck his wife and his friends about him with astonishment; they used some means to recover it to its former strength, but instead thereof, to their great grief the distemper seized all upon one side of his body. They put him to bed with all speed, and sent for physicians, but to no purpose; his distemper prevailed upon him so^ last, that in a short time it made him speechless. He was sensible ot' his approaching death; and when they carried him up stairs, expressed his opinion that it would be the last time; but added, I know that it will be well with me; which were some of his last words. Thus died this holy man of God suddenly, and without pain, not giving so much as one groan. He exchanged this life for a better, on the 26th day of June, 1691, in the 64th year of his age.

His corpse was carried from Exeter to Dartmouth, attended by several ministers, and a great many othei persons of good quality; abundance of people rode out from Dartmouth, Totness, Newton, Ashburton, and other places, to meet the corpse; when it was taken out of the hearse at the water side, his people and other friends could not forbear expressing the sense of their great loss, by floods of tears, and a bitter lamentation. It was interred the same night in Dartmouth church, and next day Mr. George Trosse, a minister of Exeter, E reached his funeral-sermon from Elisha's lamentation upon the transition of Elijah, 2 Kings ii. 12. My father, my father, the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof

We shall conclude with a character of Mr. Flavel. He was a man of a middle stature, and full of life and activity: he was very thoughtful, and when not discoursing or reading, much taken up in meditation, which made him digest his notions well. He was ready to learn from every body, and as free to communicate what he knew. He was bountiful to his own relations, and very charitable to the poor, but especially to the household of faith, and the necessitous members of his own church, to whom, during their sickness, he always sent suitable supplies. He freely taught academical learning to four young men whom he bred to the ministry, and one of them he maintained all the while at his own charge. He was exceedingly affectionate to all the people of Dartmouth, of which we shall give one remarkable instance; When our fleet was first engaged with the French, he called his people together to a solemn fast, and, like a man in an agony, wrestled with God in prayer for the church and nation, and particularly for the poor seamen of Dartmouth, that they might obtain mercy; the Lord heard and answered him, for not one of that town was killed in the fightj though many of them were in the engagement. As he was a faithful ambassador to his Master, he made his example the rule of his own practice, and was so far from reviling again, those that reviled him, that he prayed for those that despitefully used him: one remarkable instance of which is as follows: In 1685, some of the people of Dartmouth, accompanied too by some of the magistrates, made up his effigy, carried it through the streets in derision, with the covenant and bill of exclusion pinned to it, and set it upon a bonefire, and burnt it; some of the spectators were so much affected with the reproach and ignominy done to this reverend and pious minister, that they wept, and others scoffed and jeered: it was observable, that at the very same time, though he knew nothing of the matter, he was heaping coals of fire of another nature upon the heads of those wicked men, for he was then praying for the town of Dartmouth, its magistrates and inhabitants; and when news was brought him, upon the conclusion of his prayer, what they had been doing, he lifted up his prayer unto God for them in our Saviour's words, Father, for give them, for they know not what they do.

THE

OPENED UP:

To his much honoured and beloved Kinsman, Mr. John Flavel, of London, Merchant, and his virtuous Consort, the Author wisheth Grace, Mercy, and Peace.

J. F my pen were both able, and at leisure, to get glory in paper, it would be but a paper glory when I had gotten it; but if by displaying (which is the design of these papers) the transcendent excellency of Jesus Christ, I may win glory to hhn from you, to whom I humbly offer them, or from any other into whose hands providence shall cast them, that will be glory indeed, and an occasion of glorifying God to all eternity.

It is not the design of this epistle to compliment, but to benefit you; not to blazen your excellencies, but Christ's; not to acquaint the world how much you have endeared me to yourselves, but to increase and strengthen the endearments betwixt Christ and you, upon your part. I might indeed (this being a proper place for it) pay you my acknowledgments for your great kindnesses to me and mine; of which, I assure you, I have, and ever shall have, the most grateful sense: but you and I are theatre enough to one another, and can satisfy ourselves with the inclosed comforts and delights of our

mutual love and friendship. But let me tell you, the whole world is not a theatre large enough to shew the glory of Christ upon, or unfold the one half of the unsearchable riches that lie hid in him. These things will be far better understood, and spoken of in heaven, by the noon-day divinity, in which the immediately illuminated assembly do there preach his praises, than by such a stammering tongue, and scribbling pen as mine, which doth but mar them.

Alas! I write his praises but by moon-light; I cannot praise him so much as by halves. Indeed, no tongue but his own (as Nazianzen said of Bazil) is sufficient to undertake that task. What shall I say of Christ? The excelling glory of that object dazzles all apprehension, swallows up all expression. When we have borrowed metaphors from every creature that hath any excellency or lovely property in it, till we have stript the whole creation bare of all its ornaments, and clothed Christ with all that glory; when we have even worn out our tongues, in ascribing praises to him, alas I we have done nothing, when all is done.

Yet, wo is me! how do I every day behold reasonable souls most unreasonably disaffected to my lovely Lord Jesus! denying love to One, who is able to compel love from the stoniest heart I yea, though they can never make so much of their love (would they set it to sale) as Christ bids for it.

It is horrid and amazing to see how the minds of many are captivated and ensnared by every silly trifle; and how others can indifferently turn them with a kind of spontaneity to this object, or to that (as their fancy strikes) among the whole universe of beings, and scarce ever reluctate, recoil, or nauseate, till they be persuaded to Christ. In their unconverted state, it is as easy to melt the obdurate rocks into sweet syrup, as their hearts into divine love.

How do the great men of the world ambitiously court the honours and pleasures of it? The merchants of the earth trade, and strive for the dear-bought treasures of it; whilst the price of Christ (alas! ever too low) falls every day lower and lower upon the exchange of this world! I speak it as a sad truth, if there were no quicker a trade (as dead as they say it is) for the perishing treasures of the earth, than there is for Christ this day in England, the exchange would quickly be shut up, and all the trading companies dissolved.

Dear Sir, Christ is the peerless pearl hid in the field, Mat. xiii. 46. Will you be that wise merchant, that resolves to win and compass that treasure, whatever it shall cost you? Ah, Sir, Christ is a commodity that can never be bought too dear.

My dear kinsman, my flesh, and my blood; my soul thirsteth for your salvation, and the salvation of your family. Shall you and

I resolve with good Joshua, that whatever others do, " we and our families will serve the Lord;" that we will walk as the redeemed by his blood, shewing forth his virtues and praises in the world? that as God hath made us one in name, and one in affection, so we may be one in Christ; that it may be said of us, as it was of Austin and Alippous long ago, that they were.sanguine Christi conghttinati, glued together by the blood of Christ.

For my own part, I have given in my name to him long since; wo to me, if I have not given in my heart also; for, should I deceive myself in so deep a point as that, how would my profession as a Christian, my calling as a minister, yea, these very sermons now in your hands, rise in judgment to condemn me? which God forbid.

And doubtless, Sir, your eyes have seen both the vanity of all creatures, and the necessity and infinite worth of Christ. You cannot forget what a vanity the world appeared to you, when in the year 1668, you were summoned by the messengers of death (as you and all that were about you then apprehended) to shoot the gulph of vast eternity; when a malignant * D Thomson'* fever and pleurisy (whereof your * physician, hath given an account to the world) did r

shake the whole frame of the tabernacle wherein your soul through mercy yet dwells; and long may it dwell there, for the service and praise of your great Deliverer. I hope you have not, nor ever will forget how vain the world appeared to your eye, when you looked back (as it were over your shoulder) and saw how it shrunk away from you; nor will you ever forget the awful apprehensions of eternity that then seized your spirit, or the value you then had for Christ; which things; I hope, still do, and ever will remain Avith you.

And for you, dear cousin, as it becomes a daughter of Sarah, let your soul be adorned with the excellencies of Christ, and beauties of holiness. A king from heaven makes suit for your love; if he espouse your soul now, he will fetch it home to himself at death in his chariot of salvation; and great shall be your joy, when the marriage of the Lamb is come. Look often upon Christ in this glass; he is fairer than the children of men. View him believingly, and you cannot but like and love him. " For (as p ST? " one well saith) love, when it seeth, cannot but cast "' " out its spirit and strength upon amiable objects and things love- " worthy. And what fairer things than Christ! O fair sun, and u fair moon, and fair stars, and fair flowers, and fair roses, and u fair lilies, and fair creatures! but, O ten thousand, thousand <; times fairer Lord Jesus! Alas, I wronged him in making the " comparison this way. 0 black sun and moon; but 0 fair Lord

" Jesus! 0 black flowers, and black lilies and roses; but O fair, " fair, ever fair Lord Jesus! O all fair things, black, deformed, " and without beauty, when ye are set beside the fairest Lord " Jesus! O black heaven, but O fair Christ! O black angels, but " O surpassingly fair Lord Jesus."

I hope you both are agreed with Christ, according to the articles of peace propounded to you in the gospel; and that you are every day driving on salvation work, betwixt him and you, in your family, and in your closets.

And now, my dear, friends, if these discoveries of Christ, which I humbly offer to your hands, may be any way useful to your souls, to assist them either in obtaining, or in clearing their interest in him, my heart shall rejoice, even mine; for none under heaven can be more willing, though many are more able, to help you thither, than is

Trom my Study at Dartmouth, KINSMAN AND SERVANT,

March Htb, 1671.

JOHN FLAVEL.

Especially those in the Town and Corporation o/Dartmouth, and I Parts adjacent, who have either befriended, or attended these Lectures.

1VNOWLEDGE is man's excellency above the beasts that perish, Psal. xxxii. 9. the knowledge of Christ is the Christian's excellency above the Heathen, 1 Cor. i. 23, 24. Practical and saving knowledge of Christ is the sincere Christian's excellency above the self-cozening hypocrite, Heb. vi. 4, 6. but methodical and well-digested knowledge of Christ is the strong Christian's excellency above the weak, Heb. v. 12, 13, 14. A saving, though sn immethodical knowledge of Christ, will bring us to heaven, John xvii. 2. but a regular and methodical, as well as a saving knowledge of him, will bring heaven into us, Col. ii. 2, 3.

For such is the excellency thereof, even above all other knowledge of Christ, that it renders the understanding judicious, the memory tenacious, and the heart highly and fixedly joyous. How it serves to confirm and perfect the understanding, is excellently discovered by a worthy divine of our own, in these words:

A young ungrounded Christian, when he ^ t> ■> seeth all the fundamental truths, and seeth fr- Baxter s direcgood evidence and reasons of them, perhaps tl°nJ '? ™™™rtmay be yet ignorant of the right order and edf°r their establishplace of every truth. It is a rare thing to have ment> P* ""• young professors to understand the necessary truths methodically; and this is a very great defect: for a great part of the usefulness and excellency of particular truths consisteth in the respect they have to one another. This therefore will be a very considerable part of your confirmation, and growth in your understandings, to see the body of the Christian doctrine, as it were, at one view, as the several parts of it are united in one perfect frame; and to know what aspect one point hath upon another, and which are their due places. There is a great difference betwixt the sight of the several parts of a clock or watch, as they are disjointed and scattered abroad, and the seeing of them conjointed, and in use and motion. To see here a pin and there a wheel, and not know how to set them all together, nor ever see them in their due places, will give but little satisfaction. It is the frame and design of holy doctrine that must be known, and every part should be discerned as it hath its particular use to that design, and as it is connected with the other parts.

By this means only can the true nature of Theology, together with the harmony and perfection of truth, be clearly understood,

0£ THE EPISTLE TO THE READER*

And every single truth also will be much better perceived by him that seeth its place and order, than by any other: for one truth exceedingly illustrates and leads another into the understanding. —Study therefore to grow in the more methodical knowledge of the same truths which you have received; and though you are not yet ripe enough to discern the whole body of theology in due method, yet see so much as you have attained to know, in the right order and placing of every part* As in anatomy, it is hard for the wisest physician to discern the course of every branch of the veins and arteries; but yet they may easily discern the place and order of the principal parts, and greater vessels, (and surely in the body of religion there are no branches of greater or more necessary truth than these) so it is in divinity, where no man hath a perfect view of the whole, till he comes to the state of perfection with God; but every true Christian hath the knowledge of all the essentials, and may know the orders and places of them all.

And as it serves to render the mind more judicious, so it causes the memory to be more tenacious, and retentive of truths. The chain of truth is easily held in the memory, when one truth links in another; but the loosing of a link endangers the scattering of the whole chain. We use to say, order is the mother of memory; I am sure it is a singular friend to it: hence it is observed, those that write of the art of memory, lay so great a stress upon place and number. The memory would not so soon be overcharged with a multitude of truths, if that multitude were but orderly disposed. It is the incoherence and confusion of truths, rather than their number, that distracts. Let but the understanding receive them regularly, and the memory will retain them with much more facility. A bad memory is a common complaint among Christians: all the benefit that many of you have in hearing, is from the pre- * sent influence of truths upon your hearts; there is but little that sticks by you, to make a second and third impression upon them. I know it may be said of some of you, that if your affections were not better than your memories, you would need a very large charity to pass for Christians. I confess it is better to have a well ordered heart, than a methodical head; but surely both are better than either. And for you that have constantly attended these exercises, and followed us through the whole series and deduction of these truths, from text to text, and from point to point; who have begun one sabbath where you left another; it will be your inexcusable fault, if these things be not fixed in your understanding and memories, as nails fastened in a sure place: especially as pro* vidence hath now brought to your eyes, what hath been so often sounded in your ears, which is no small help to fix these truths upon you, and prevent that great hazard of them, which com-

THE EPISTLE TO THE READER. §3

monly attends bare hearing; for now you may have recourse as often as you will to them, view and review them, till they become your own.

But though this be a great and singular advantage, yet is not all you may have by a methodical understanding of the doctrines of Christ: it is more than a judicious understanding them, or faithful remembering them, that you and I must design, even the warm, vital, animating influences of these truths upon our hearts, without which we shall be never the better; yea, much the worse for knowing and remembering them.

Truth is the sanctifying instrument, John xvii. 17. the mould into which our souls are cast, Rom. vi. 17. according therefore to the stamps and impressions it makes upon our understandings, and the order in which truths lie there, will be the depth and lastingness of their impressions and influences upon the heart; as, the more weight is laid uj)on the seal, the more fair and lasting impression is made upon the wax. He that sees the grounds and reasons of his peace and comfort most clearly, is like to maintain it the more constantly.

Great therefore is the advantage Christians have by such methodical sytems. Surely they may be set down among the desiderata Christiawrum, The most desired things pf Christians.

Divers worthy modern pens have indeed un- * M WW

dertaken this noble subject before me, some -^ p fr + ni - .f more * succinctly, others more f copiously: these. °^r j-^ J*_ have done worthily, and their praises are in the i j,. j,

churches of Christ; yet such breadth there is in. I J. . the knowledge of Christ, that not only those ° who have written on this subject before me, but a thousand authors more may employ their pens after us, and not interfere with, or straiten another.

And such is the deliciousness of this subject, that, were there ten thousand volumes written upon it, they would never cloy, or become nauseous to a gracious heart. We use to say, one thing tires, and it is true that it doth so, except that one thing be vii% tually and eminently all things, as Christ is; and then one thing can never tire; for such is the variety of sweetness in Christ, who is the delicice humani generis, the delights of the children of men, that every time he is opened to believers from pulpit or press, it is as if heaven had furnised them with a new Christ; and yet he is the same Christ still.

The treatise itself will satisfy you, that I have not boasted in another man's line, of things made ready to my hand ; which I speak not in the least to win any praise to myself from the undertaking, but to remove prejudice from it ; for I see more defects in

it, than most of my readers will see, and can forethink more fault* to be found in it, than I now shall stand to tell thee of, or answer for. It was written in a time of great distractions; and didst thou but know how oft this work hath died and revived under my hand, thou wouldst wonder that ever it came to thine.

I am sensible it may fall under some censorious (it may be, envious) eyes, and that far different judgments will pass upon it; for pro captu lectoris habent sua fata libelli: And no wonder if a treatise of Christ be, when Christ himself was to some, " a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence." I expect not to please every reader, especially the envious; magna debet esse eloquentia, quae invitis placet. It is as hard for some to look upon other men's gifts without envy, as it is to look upon their own without pride; nor will I be any further concerned with such readers, than to pity them; well knowing that every proud, contemptuous and envious censure is a granado that breaks in the hand of him that casts it.

But to the ingenuous and candid reader, I owe satisfaction for the obscurity of some part of this discourse, occasioned by the conciseness of the stile; to which I have this only to say, that I was willing to crowd as much matter as I could into this number of sheets in thy hand, that I might therein ease thee both in thy pains and thy purse. I confess the sermons were preached in a more relaxed stile, and most of these things were enlarged in the pulpit, which are designedly contracted in the press, that the volume might not swell above the ability of common readers. And it was my purpose at first to have comprised the second part, viz. The application of the redemption that is with Christ unto sinners, in one volume, which occasioned the contraction of this; but that making a just volume itself, must await another season to see the light. If the reader will be but a little the more intent and considerate in reading, this conciseness will turn to his advantage.

This may suffice to shew the usefulness of such composures, and prevent offence; but something yet remains with me, to say to the readers in general, to those of this town in special, and to the flock committed by Christ to my charge more especially.

1. To readers in general, according as their different states and conditions may be ; there are six things earnestly to be requested of them.

(1.) If you be yet strangers to Christ, let these things begin, and beget your first accquaintance with him. I assure thee, reader, it was a principal part of the design thereof; and here thou wilt find many directions, helps, and sweet encouragements, to assist a poor stranger as thou art, in that great work. Say not, I am an enemy to Christ, and there is no hope of reconciliation ; for here thou wilt see, how " God was in Christ reconciling the world to

himself." Say not, all this is nothing except God had told thee so, and appointed some to treat with thee about it; " for he hath committed unto us the word of this reconciliation." Say not, yea, that may be from your own pity and compassion for us, and not from any commission you have for it; for we u are ambassadors for Christ,'1 1 Cor. v. 19.

Say not, O but my sins are greater than can be forgiven: the difficulties of my salvation are too great to be overcome, especially by a poor creature as I am, that am able to do nothing, no, not to raise one penny towards the discharge of that great debt I owe to God. For here thou wilt find, upon thy union with Christ, that there is merit enough in his blood, and mercy enough in his bowels, to justify and save such a one as thou art. Yea, and I will add for thine encouragement, that it is a righteous thing with God to justify and save thee, that canst not pay him one penny of all the vast sums thou owest him; when, by the same rule of justice, he condemns the most strict, self-righteous Pharisee, that thinks thereby to quit scores with him. It is righteous for a judge to cast him that hath paid ninety-nine pounds of the hundred which he owed, because the payment was not full; and to acquit him, whose surety hath paid all, though himself did not, and freely confess that he cannot pay one farthing of the whole debt.

(2.) If thou be a self-deceiving soul, that easily takest up thy satisfaction about thine interest in Christ, look to it, as thou valuest thy soul, reader, that a fond and groundles conceit of thine interest in Christ do not effectually and finally ob- n , . struct a true and saving interest in him. This is ^^? ™ • • **" the common and fatal error in which multitudes * . Ul se of souls are ensnared and ruined: for look as a Prms s&pe?e Puconceit of great wisdom hinders many from the ' . \ ' , ^ attaining of it; so a groundless conceit that , if ,& •/•//*'' Christ is already thine, may prove the greatest , , * 9 V iejj

obstacle between Christ and thee: but here thou,7 7 . p,

•ii . r;.v i ,i ; -ii 4. j • themselves wise atwill meet with many rules that will not deceive // ? c

thee, trials that will open thy true condition to *'

thee.

Thou sometimes reflectest upon the state of thy soul, and enquirest, is Christ mine? may I depend upon it, that my condition

is safe? Thy heart returns thee an answer of peace, it speaks as

thou wouldst have it. But remember, friend, and mark this line,

Thy final sentence is not yet come from the mouth of thy Judge; and

what if after all thy self-flattering hopes and groundless confidence,

a sentence should come from him quite cross to that of thine own

ieart f where art thou then? what a confounded person wilt thou he %

Christless, speechless, and hopeless, all at once!

O therefore build sure for eternity; take heed lest the loss of thine eternal happiness be at last imputed by thee to the deceitfulness and laziness of thine own heart; lest thy heart say to thee in hell, as the heart of Apollodorus seemed in his sufferings to say to him, / am the cause of all this misery to thee.

(3.) If thou be one whose heart is eagerly set upon this vain world, I beseech thee take heed, lest it interpose itself betwixt Christ and thy soul, and so cut thee off from him for ever. O beware, lest the dust of the earth, getting into thine eyes, so blind thee, that thou never see the beauty or necessity of Christ. The god of this world so blinds the eyes of them that believe not. And what are sparkling pleasures that dazzles the eyes of some, and the distracting cares that wholly divert the minds of others, but as a napkin drawn by Satan over the eyes of them that are to be turned off into hell? 1 Cor. iv. 3, 4.

Some general aims, and faint wishes after Christ you may have; but alas! the world has centered thy heart, intangled thy affections, and will daily find new diversions for them from the great business of life; so that, if the Lord break not this snare, thou wilt never be able to deliver thy soul.

(4.) If thou be a loose and careless professor of Christ, I beseech thee, let the things thou shalt read in this treatise of Christ, convince, shame, reclaim thee from thy vain conversation. Here thou wilt find how contrary thy conversation is to the grand designs of the death and resurrection of Christ. Oh, methinks as thou art reading the deep humiliation, and unspeakable sorrows Christ underwent for the expiating of sin, thou shouldest thenceforth look upon sin as a tender child would look upon that knife that stabbed his father to the heart 1 thou shouldst never whet and sharpen it again to wound the Son of God afresh. To such loose and careless professors, I particularly recommend the last general "use of this discourse^ containing many great motives to reformation and strict godliness in all that call upon the name of the Lord Jesus.

(5.) If thou hast been a profane and vain person, but now art pardoned, and dost experience the superabounding riches of grace ; my request to thee is, that thou love Jesus Christ with a more fervent love than ever yet thou hadst for him. Here thou wilt find many great incentives, many mighty arguments to such a love of Christ. Poor soul, consider what thou hast been, what the morning of thy life was, what treasures of guilt thou laidst up in those days; and then think, can such a one as I receive mercy, and that mercy not break my heart ? Can I read my pardon, and mine eyes not drop ? What ! mercy for such a wretch as I ! a pardon

for such a rebel! O what an ingenuous thaw should this cause upon my heart! if it do not, what a strange heart is thine.

Did the love of Christ break through so many impediments to come to thee? Did it make its way through the law, througli the wrath of God, through the grave, through thine own unbelief and great un worthiness, to come to thee? O what a love was the love of Christ to thy soul; And is not thy love strong enough to break through the vanities and trifles of this world, which intangle it, to go to Christ? How poor, how low and weak is thy love to Christ then?

(6.) Lastly, Art thou one that hast through mercy at last attained assurance, or good hope, through grace, of thy interest in Christ? Rejoice then in thy present mercy, and long ardently to be with thine own Christ in his glory. There be many things dispersed through this treatise, of Christ, to animate such joy, and excite such longings. It was truly observed by a wor- j^r g -^ thy author, (whose words I have mentioned more freely than his name in this discourse) That it is in a manner as natural for us to leap when we see the new Jerusalem, as it is to laugli wlicn we are ticlled : Joy is not under the souFs command when Christ kisseth it. And for your desires to be with Christ, what consideration can you find in this world strong enough to rein them in ? O when you shall consider what he hath done, suffered, and purchased" for you, where he is now, and how much he longs for your coming, your very hearts should groan out those words, Phil. i. 23. " I desire to be dissolved, and to be with Christ.'" The Lord direct your hearts into the love of God, and into the patient waiting for of Christ.

2. Having delivered my message to the reader in general, I have Somewhat more particularly to say to you of this place.

You are a people that were born under, and bred up with the gospel. It hath been your singular privilege, above many towns and parishes in England, to enjoy more than sixty years together an able and fruitful ministry among you. The dew of heaven lay upon you, as it did upon Gideon's fleece, when the ground was dry in other places about you; you have been richly watered with gospel-showers; you, with Capernaum, have been exalted to heaven in the means of grace. And it must be owned to your praise, that you testified more respect to the gospel than many other places have done, and treated Christ's ambassadors with more civility, whilst they prophesied in sackcloth, than some other places did. These things are praise-worthy in you. But all this, and much more than this, amounts not to that which Jesus Christ expects from you, and which in his name I would now persuade you to. And 6 that I (the least and un worthiest of all the messengers of

£8 THE EPISTLE TO THE READEK.

Christ to you) might indeed prevail with all that are Christless among you, (1.) To answer the long continued calls of God to you, by a thorough and sound conversion, that the long-suffering of God may be your salvation, and you may not receive all this grace of God in vain. O that the damned might never be set a wondering, to see a people of your advantages for heaven, sinking as much below many of themselves in misery, as you now are above them in means and mercy.

Dear friends, my heart's desire and prayer to God for you is, that you may be saved. O that I knew how to engage this whole town to Jesus Christ, and make fast the marriage-knot betwixt him and you, albeit after that I should presently go to the place of silence^ and see men no more, with the inhabitants of the world. Ah sirs! methinks I see the Lord Jesus laying the merciful hand of a holy violence upon you: methinks he calls to you, as the angel to Lot, saying, " Arise, lest ye be consumed; And " while he lingered, the men laid hold upon his hand, the Lord " being merciful unto him. And they brought him without the " city, and said, Escape for thy life, stay not in all the plain; u escape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed," Gen. xix. 15. How often (to allude to this) hath Jesus Christ in like manner laid hold upon you in the preaching of the gospel, and will you not flee for refuge to him? Will you rather be consumed, than endeavour an escape? A beast will not be driven into the fire, and will not you be kept out? The merciful Lord Jesus, by his admirable patience and bounty, hath convinced you how loth he is to leave or lose you. To this day his arms are stretched forth to gather you, and will you not be gathered? Alas for my poor neighbours! Must so many of them perish at last? What shall I do for the daughter of my people?

Lord, by what 'arguments shall they be persuaded to be happy? What will win them effectually to thy Christ? They have many of them escaped the pollutions of the world through the knowledge of the Lord and Saviour. They are a people that love thine ordinances, they take delight in approaching to God; thou hast beautified many of them with lovely and obliging tempers and disrpositions. Thus far they are come, there they stick; and beyond this no power but thine can move them. O thou, to whose hand this work is and must be left, put forth thy saving power and reveal thine arm for their salvation; Thou hast glorified thy name in many of them; Lord, glorify it again.

(2.) *My next request is, that you will all be persuaded, whether converted or unconverted, to set up all the duties of religion in your families, and govern your children and servants as men that must give an account to God for them in the great day. O that

there were not a prayerless family in this town! How little will their tables differ from the manger, where beasts feed together, if God be not owned and acknowledged there, in your eating and drinking? And how can you expect blessings should dwell in your tabernacles, if God be not called on there? Say not, you want time for it, or that your necessities will not allow it; for, had you been more careful of these duties, it is like you had not been ex* posed to such necessities: besides, you can find time to be idle, you can waste a part of every day vainly; Why could not that time be redeemed for God? Moreover, you will not deny but the success of all your affairs at home and abroad depends upon the blessing of God; and if so, think you it is not the right way, even to temporal prosperity, to engage his presence and blessing with you, in whose hands your all is? Say not, your children and servants are ignorant of God, and therefore you cannot comfortably join with them in those duties, for the neglect of those duties is the cause of their ignorance; and it is not like they will be better, till you use God's means to make them so.

Besides, prayer is a part of natural worship, and the vilest among men are bound to pray, else the neglect of it were none of their sin. O let not a duty, upon which so many and great blessings hang, fall to the ground, upon such silly (not to say wicked) pretences to shift it off. Remember, death will shortly break up all your families, and disband them; and who then think you will have most comfort in beholding their dead? The day of account also hastens, and then, who will have the most comfortable appearing before the just and holy God? Set up, I beseech you, the ancient and comfortable duties of reading the scriptures, singing of psalms, and prayer, in all your dwelling-places. And do all these conscientiously, as men that have to do with God; and try the Lord herewith, if he will not return in a way of mercy to you, and restore even your outward prosperity to you again. However, to be sure, far greater encouragements than that lie before you, to oblige you to your duties.

(3.) More especially, I have a few things to say to you that have attended on the ministry, or are under my oversight in a more particular manner, and then I have done. And,

1**, I cannot but observe to you the goodness of our God, yea, the riches of his goodness :

Who freely gave Jesus Christ out of his own bosom for us, and hath not withheld his Spirit, ordinances and ministers, to reveal and apply him to us. Here is love that wants an epithet to match it:

Who engaged my heart upon this transcendent subject in the course of my ministry among you : a subject which angels study and admire, as well as we :

&) THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

Who so signally protected and overshadowed our assembly in those days of trouble, wherein these truths were delivered to you. You then sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to your taste: his banner over you was love; your bread was then sure, and your waters failed not: Yea, such was his peculiar indulgence, and special tenderness to you, that he suffered no man to do you harm; and it can hardly be imagined any could attempt it that had but known this, and no worse than this, to be your only design and business:

Who made these meditations of Christ a strong support, and sweet relief to mine, now with Christ, and no less to me, under the greatest exercises and trials that ever befel me in this world ; preserving me yet (though a broken vessel) for some farther use and service to your souls :

Who in the years that are past left not himself without witness among us, blessing my labours, to the conversion and edification of many ; some of which yet remain with us, but some are fallen asleep :

Who hath made many of you that yet remain, a willing and obedient people, who have in some measure supported the reputation of religion by your stability and integrity in days of abounding iniquity : My joy and my crown ; so stand ye fast in the Lord I

Who after all the days of fears and troubles, through which we have past, hath at last given us and his churches rest; " that we " being delivered out of the hands of our enemies, might serve tt him without fear in righteousness and holiness (which doing, " this mercy may be extended to us) all the days of our life.**

In testimony of a thankful heart for these invaluable mercies, I humbly and cheerfully rear up this pillar of remembrance, inscribing it with EBEN-EZER, and JEHOVAH-JIREH!

2dly, As I could not but observe these things to you, so I have a few things to request of you, in neither of which I can bear a denial, so deeply Christ's, your own, and my interest lie in them.

(1.) Look to it, my dear friends, that none of you be found Christless at your appearance before him. Those that continue Christless now, will be left speechless then. God forbid that you that have heard so much of Christ, and you that have professed so much of Christ, should at last fall into a worse condition than those that never heard the name of Christ.

(2.) See that you daily grow more Christ-like by conversing with him, as you do, in his precious ordinances. Let it be with your souls, as it is with a piece of cloth, which receives a deeper dye every time it is dipt into a vat. If not, you may not expect the continuance of your mercies much longer to you.

(3.) Get these great truths well digested both in your heads and

hearts, and let the power of them be displayed in your lives, else the pen of the scribe, and the tongue of the preacher, are both in vain. These things, that so often warmed your hearts from the pulpit, return now to make a second impression upon them from the press. Hereby you will recover and fix those truths, which, it is like, are in great part already vanished from you.

This is the fruit I promise myself from you: The next age, and whatever entertainment it meets with from perhaps will proothers in this Christ-despising age, yet two things duce a race of men relieve me; one is, that future times may pro- of Jiner disposiduce more humble and hungry Christians than tions and a gentler this glutted age enjoys, to whom it will be wel- turn, than tills age come: the other is, that duty is discharged, and has produced. Ant. endeavours are used to bring men to Christ, and Prob build them up in him: wherein he doth and will rejoice, who is a well-wisher to the souls of men.

JOHN FLAVEL.

THE

SERMON I.

Opens the Excellency of the Subject.

For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and Mm crucified.

jL HE former verse contains an apology for the plain and familiar manner of the apostle's preaching, which was not (as he there tells them) with excellency of speech, or of wisdom; i. e. he studied not to gratify their curiosity with rhetorical strains, or philosophical niceties. In this he gives the reason, " for I determined not to B know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ," §c. *

tt I determined not to know." *f*] The meaning is not, that he simply despised, or contemned all other studies and knowledge; but so far only as they stand in competition with, or opposition to the study and knowledge of Jesus Christ. And it is as if he should say, it is my stated, settled judgment; not a hasty, inconsiderate censure, but the product and issue of my most serious and exquisite enquiries. After I have well weighed the case, turned it round, viewed it exactly on every side, balanced all advantages and disadvantages, pondered all things, that are fit to come into consideration about it; this is the result and final determination, that all other knowledge, how profitable, how pleasant soever, is not worthy to be named in the same day with the knowledge of Jesus

"t Ou gzwa ra s/osva/ rt £v v/xiv,-— I did not judge it equitable to know with marked regard any thing among you. — He does not condemn all other knowledge except when it rivals the knowledge of Christ, #c.

Christ. This, therefore, I resolve to make the scope and end of my ministry, and the end regulates the mean; such pedantic toys, and airy notions as injudicious ears affect^ would rather obstruct than promote my grand design among you; therefore, wholly waving that way, I applied myself to a plain, popular, unaffected dialect, fitted rather to pierce the heart, and convince the conscience, than to tickle the fancy. This is the scope of the words, in which three things fall under consideration;

First, The subject matter of his doctrine, to wit, Jesus Christ " I determined to know nothing," i. e. to study nothing myself, to teach nothing to you, but " Jesus Christ." Christ shall be the centre to which all the lines of my ministry shall be drawn. I have spoken and written of many other subjects in my sermons and epistles, but it is all reductively the preaching and discovery of Jesus Christ: of all the subjects in the world, this is the sweetest; if there be any thing on this side heaven, worthy our time and studies, this is it. Thus he magnifies his doctrine, from the excellency of its subject-matter, accounting all other doctrines but airy things, compared with this.

Secondly, We have here that special respect or consideration of Christ, which he singled out from all the rest of the excellent truths of Christ, to spend the main strength of his ministry upon; and that is, Christ as crucified: and the rather, because hereby he would obviate the vulgar prejudice raised against him upon the account of his cross; " For Christ crucified was to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness," chap. i. 23. This also best suited his end, to draw them on to Christ; as Christ above all other subjects, so Christ crucified above all things in Christ. There is, therefore, a great emphasis in this word, " and " him crucified." *

Thirdly, The manner in which he discoursed this transcendent subject to them, is also remarkable; he not only preached Christ crucified, but he preached him assiduously and plainly. He preached Christ frequently; " and whenever he preached of Christ " crucified, he preached him in a crucified stile." -f* This is the sum of the words; to let them know that his spirit was intent upon this subject, as if he neither knew, nor cared to speak of any other. All his sermons were so full of Christ, that his hearers might have thought he was acquainted with no other doctrine. Hence observe,

^ * Vehementem habet £ft<paffiv quod adjecit, $ hunc crucifixum. He writes with peculiar emphasis — And him crucified. Pet Martyr in Loc. f Christum crucifixum stylo crucifixo prcedicabat.

§4 THE FOUXTAIN OF LIFE. SEEM. I.

Doet. That there is no doctrine more excellent hi itself, or more necessary to be preached and studied, than the doctrine of Jesus Christ, and him crucified.

All other knowledge, how much soever it be magnified in the •world, is, and ought to be esteemed but dross, in comparison of the excellency of the knowledge of Jesus Christ, Phil. iii. 8. " In him are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge/1 Col. ii. 3 *

Eudoxus was so affected with the glory of the sun, that he thought he was born only to behold it; much more should a Christian judge himself born only to behold and delight in the glory of the Lord Jesus.

The truth of this proposition will be made out by a double consideration of the doctrine of Christ.

First, Let it be considered absolutely, and then these lovely properties with which it is naturally clothed, will render it superior to all other sciences and studies.

1st, The knowledge of Jesus Christ is the very marrow and kernel of all the scriptures ; the scope and centre of all divine revelations : both Testaments meet in Christ. The ceremonial law is full of Christ, and all the gospel is full of Christ : the blessed lines of both Testaments meet in him; and how they both harmonize, and sweetly concentre in Jesus Christ, is the chief scope of that excellent epistle to the Hebrews, to discover ; for we may call that epistle the sweet harmony of both Testaments. This argues the unspeakable excellency of this doctrine, the knowledge whereof must needs therefore be a key to unlock the greatest part of the sacred scriptures. For it is in the understanding of scripture, much as it is in the knowledge men have in logic and philosophy : if a scholar once come to understand the bottom-principle, upon which, as upon its hinge, the controversy turns, the true knowledge of that principle shall carry him through the whole controversy, and furnish him with a solution to every argument. Even so the right knowledge of Jesus Christ, like a clue, leads you through the whole labyrinth of the scriptures.

2<%, The knowledge of Jesus Christ is ^fundamental hnoidedge ; and foundations are most useful, though least seen. The knowledge of Christ is fundamental to all graces, duties, comforts, and happiness.

(1.) It is fundamental to all graces ; they all begin in knowledge ; Col. iii. 10. " The new man is renewed in knowledge.1'

* He that prefers any knowledge on earth, to this sacred and heavenly knowledge, chuseth trash before a treasure. jSavemnt on CqIqss, chap, ii. ver, 5.

As the old, so the new creation begins in light; the opening of the eyes is the first work of the Spirit; and as the beginnings of grace, so all the after-improvements thereof depend upon this increasing knowledge, 2 Pet. iii. 18. " But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour.'' See how these two, grace and knowledge, keep equal pace in the soul of a Christian; in what degree the one increases, the other increases answerably.

(2.) The knowledge of Christ is fundamental to all duties ; the duties, as well as the graces of all Christians, are all founded in the knowledge of Christ. Must a Christian believe? That he can never do without the knowledge of Christ : faith is so much dependent on his knowledge, that it is denominated by it, Isa. liii. 11. " By his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many;" and hence, John vi. 40. seeing and believing are made the same thing. Would a man exercise hope in God ? that he can never do with* out the knowledge of Christ, for he is the author of that hope, 1 Pet. i. 3. he is also its object, Heb. vi. 19. its ground-work and support, Col. i. 27. And as- you cannot believe or hope, so neither can you pray acceptably without a competent degree of this knowledge. The very Heathen could .say, Non loquendum de Deo sine lumine, i. e. Men must not speak of God without light : the true way of conversing with, and enjoying God in prayer, is by acting faith on him through a Mediator : so much comfort and true excellency there is in it, and no more. O then, how indispensible is the knowledge of Christ, to all that do address themselves to God in any duty !

(3.) It is fundamental to all comforts: all the comforts of believers are streams from this fountain. Jesus Christ is the very object matter of a believer's joy, Phil. iii. 3. " Our rejoicing is in " Christ Jesus." Take away the knowledge of Christ, and a Christian is the most sad and melancholy creature in the world : again, let Christ but manifest himself, and dart the beams of his light into their souls, it will make them kiss the stakes, sing in flames, and shout in the pangs of death, as men that divide the spoil.

Lastly, This knowledge is fundamental to the eternal happiness of souls: as we can perform no duty, enjoy no comfort, so neither can we be saved without it, John xvii. 3. " This is life eternal, to " know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast " sent." And, if it be life eternal to know Christ, then it is eternal damnation to be ignorant of Christ: as Christ is the door that opens heaven, so knowledge is the key that opens Christ. The excellent gifts, and renowned parts of the moral Heathens, though they purchased to them great esteem and honour among men, yet left them in a state of perdition, because of this great defect, they

were ignorant of Christ, 1 Cor. i. 21. Thus you see how fundamental the knowledge of Christ is, essentially necessary to all the graces, duties, comforts and happiness of souls.

3^%, The knowledge of Christ is profound and large ; all other sciences are but shadows ; this is a boundless, bottomless ocean ; no creature hath a line long enough to fathom the depth of it ; there is height, length, depth and breadth ascribed to it, Eph. iii. 14. yea, it passeth knowledge. There is * " a manifold wis- " dom of God in Christ,'" Eph. iii. 10. It is of many sorts and forms, of many folds and plates : it is indeed simple, pure and unmixed with any thing but itself, yet it is manifold in degrees, kinds and administrations ; though something of Christ be unfolded in one age, and something in another, yet eternity itself cannot fully unfold him. I see something, said Luther, which blessed Austin saw not ; and those that come after me, will see that which I see not. It is in the studying of Christ, as in the planting of a new discovered country; at first men sit down by the sea-side, upon the skirts and borders of the land; and there they dwell, but by degrees they search farther and farther into the heart of the country. Ah, the best of us are yet but upon the borders of this vast continent !

4tthlg, The study of Jesus Christ is the most noble subject that ever a soul spent itself upon; those that rack and torture their brains upon other studies, like children, weary themselves at a low game; the eagle plays at the sun itself. The angels study this doctrine, and stoop down to look into this deep abyss. What are the truths discovered in Christ, but the very secrets that from eternity lay hid in the bosom of God? Eph. iii. 8, 9. God's heart is opened to men in Christ, John i. 18. this makes the gospel such a glorious dispensation, because Christ is so gloriously revealed therein, 1 Cor. iii. 9. and the studying of Christ in the gospel, stamps such a heavenly glory upon the contemplating soul, ver. 18.

5tMy, It is the most sweet and comfortable knowledge ; to be studying Jesus Christ, what is it but to be digging among all the veins and springs of comfort? and the deeper you dig, the more do these springs flow upon you. How are hearts ravished with the discoveries of Christ in the gospel ? what ecstasies, meltings, transports, do gracious souls meet there ? Doubtless, Philip's ecstasy, John i. 25. evpixapft itfsv, " We have found Jesus," was far beyond that of Archimedes. A believer could sit from morning to night, to hear discourses of Christ ; " His mouth is most sweet ," Cant. v. 16. f

* HkvnoiXiktiC, eopia Osx, Multiformes sajnentia Dei. Caryl in Job xi. 6. f Every discovery of thy truth is, above all, the plcasantest, most ravishing and

Secondly, Let us compare this knowledge with all other knowledge, and thereby the excellency of it will farther appear.

1. All other knowledge is natural, but this wholly supernatural, Mat. xi. 27. " No man knoweth the Son, but the Father; " neither knOweth any the Father, save the Son, and he to whom- " soever the Son will reveal him." The wisest Heathens could never make a discovery of Christ by their deepest searches into nature ; the most eagle-eyed philosophers were but ehildren in knowledge, compared with the most illiterate Christians.

2. Other knowledge is unattainable by many. All the helps and means in the world would never enable some Christians to attain the learned arts and languages ; men of the best wits, and most pregnant parts, are most excellent in these ; but here is the mystery and excellency of the knowledge of Christ, that men of most blunt, dull and contemptible parts attain, through the teaching of the Spirit, to this knowledge, in which the more acute and ingenious are utterly blind, Mat. xi. 25. " I thank thee, O Father, " Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things " from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes." 1 Cor. i. 26, 27. " You see your calling, brethren, how that not " many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble " are called : but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world, " to confound the wise," &c.

3. Other knowledge, though you should attain the highest degree of it, would never bring you to heaven, being defective and lame both in the integrity of parts, the principal thing, viz. Christ, being wanting ; and in the purity of its nature : for the knowing Heathens grew vain in their imaginations, Rom. i. 21. and in the efficacy and influence of it on the heart and life, They held the truth in unrighteousness ; their lusts were stronger than their light, Rom. i. 18. But this knowledge hath potent influences, changing souls into its own image, 2 Cor. hi. 18. and so proves a saving knowledge unto men, 1 Tim. ii. 4. And thus I have in a few particu lars pointed out the transcendency of the knowledge of Christ.

The use of all this I shall give you in a few inferences, on which I shall not enlarge, the whole being only preliminary to the doctrine of Christ ; only for the present I shall hence infer,

INFERENCE 1,

* The sufficiency of the doctrine of Christ, to make men wise unto salvation. Paul desired to know nothing else ; and, indeed,

delightful, and even invites and offers itself to every one of its own accord. What exquisite pleasure is there in that, which lies concealed within the inmost recesses of your heart, and is shut up, as it were, with locks and bars? Brightman on Cant. * He is completely learned, who has learned the gospel; but that person is quite

S8 THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE. JSERM. I,

nothing else is of absolute necessity to be known. A little of this knowledge, if saving and effectual upon thy heart, will do thy soul more service, than all the vain speculation and profound parts that others so much glory in. Poor Christian, be not dejected, because thou seest thyself out-stript and excelled by so many in other parts of knowledge; if thou know Jesus Christ, thou knowest enough to comfort and save thy soul. Many learned philosophers are now in hell, and many illiterate Christians in heaven.

INFERENCE 2.

If there be such excellency in the knowledge of Christ, let it humble all, both saints and sinners, that we have no more of this clear and effectual knowledge in us, notwithstanding the excellent advantages we have had for it. Sinners, concerning you I may sigh and say with the apostle, 1 Cor. xv. 34. " Some have not the " knowledge of Christ, I speak this to your shame." This, O this is the condemnation. And even for you that are enlightened in this knowledge, how little do you know of Jesus Christ, in comparison of what you might have known of him? What a shame is it, that you should need to be taught the very first truths, " when " for the time you might have been teachers of others?" Heb. v, 12, 13, 14. " That your ministers cannot speak unto you as " spiritual, but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ," 1 -Cor. iii. 1, 2. O how much time is spent in other studies, in vain discourses, frivolous pamphlets, worldly employments? how littlS in the search and study of Jesus Christ.

INFERENCE 3.

How sad is their condition that have a knowledge of Christ, and yet as to themselves it had been better they had never had it! * Many there be that content themselves with an unpractical, ineffectual, and merely notional knowledge of him; of whom the apostle saith, " It had been better for them not to have known," 2 Pet. ii. 21. It serves only to aggravate sin and misery; for though it be not enough to save them, yet it puts some weak restraints upon sin, which their impetuous lusts breaking down, exposes them thereby to a greater damnation.

INFERENCE 4.

Fourthly, This may inform us by what rule to judge both ministers and doctrine. Certainly that is the highest commendation of a minister, to be an able minister of the New Testament; not

foolish and mad, who seeks for saving knowledge any where else; for here is a large field of such knowledge; here all the treasures of it. Davenant on Colons. • Vide Zanch. in Eph, iv, p, 161. de duplici cognilione Wiristu

SERM. I.

THE FOUNTAIN OP LIFE. S9

of the letter, but of the Spirit, 2 Cor. iii. 6. He is the best artist, that can most lively and powerfully display Jesus Christ before the people, evidently setting him forth as crucified among them; and that is the best sermon, that is most full of Christ, not of art and language. I know that a holy dialect well becometh Chrisfs ministers, they should not be rude and careless in language or method; but surely the excellency of a sermon lies not in that, but in the plainest discoveries and liveliest applications of Jesus Christ.

INFERENCE 5.

Let all that mind the honour of religion, or the peace and comfort of their own souls, wholly sequester and apply themselves to the study of Jesus Christ, and him crucified. Wherefore spend we ourselves upon other studies, when all excellency, sweetness, and desirableness is concentered in this one? Jesus Christ is fairer than the children of men, the chiefest among ten thousands, " as " the apple-tree among the trees of the wood;" Quae faciunt divisa beatum, in hoc mixta fiuunt: These things which singly ravish and delight the souls of men, are all found conjunctly in Christ. O what a blessed Christ is this! * whom to know is eternal life. From the knowledge of Jesus Christ do bud forth all the fruits of comfort, and that for all seasons and conditions. Hence Rev. xxii. 2. he is called " the tree of life, which bears twelve " manner of fruits, and yields its fruit every month; and the " very leaves of this tree are for healing." In Christ souls have, (1.) All necessaries for food and physic. (2.) All varieties of fruits, twelve manner of fruits; a distinct sweetness in this, in that, and in the other attribute, promise, ordinance. (3.) In him are these fruits at all times, he bears fruit every month; there is precious fruit in Jesus Christ, even in the black month; winter fruits as well as summer fruits. O then study Christ, study to know him more extensively. There be many excellent things in Christ, that the most eagle-eyed believer hath not yet seen: Ah! 'tis pity that any thing of Christ should lie hid from his people. Study to know Christ more intensively, to get the experimental taste and lively power of his knowledge upon your hearts and affections: This is the knowledge that carries all the sweetness and comfort in it. Christian, I dare appeal to thy experience, whether the experimental taste of Jesus Christ, in ordinances and duties, has not a

* I am sure, (saith a holy one), the saints at .their best, are but strangers to the Weight and worth of the incomparable sweetness of Christ ; he is so new, so fresh in excellency every day to those that search more and more into him, as if heaven could furnish as many new Christs (if I may so. speak) as there are days betwixt him and us; and yet he is one and the same still; O, we love an unknown lover, wheu we love Christ.

higher and sweeter relish than any created enjoyment thou ever tastedst in this world? O then separate, devote, and wholly give thyself, thy time, thy strength to this most sweet transcendent Study.

INFERENCE 6.

Lastly ) Let me close the whole with a double caution; one to ourselves, who by our callings and professions are the ministers of Christ; another to those that sit under the doctrine of Christ daily.

First, If this doctrine be the most excellent, necessary, fundamental, profound, noble, and comfortable doctrine*, let us then take heed lest, while we study to be exact in other things, we be found ignorant in this. Ye know it is ignominious, by the common suffrage of the civilized world, for any man to be unacquainted with his own calling, or not to attend the proper business of it: it is our calling, as the Bridegroom's friends, to woo and win souls to Christ, to set him forth to the people as crucified among them, Gal. iii. 1. to present him in all his attractive excellencies, that all liearts may be ravished with his beauty, and charmed into his arms by love: we must also be able to defend the truths of Christ against undermining heretics, to instil his knowledge into the ignorant, to answer the cases and scruples of poor doubting Christians. How many intricate knots have we to untie? What pains, what skill is requisite for such as are employed about our work? And shall we spend our precious time in frivolous controversies, philosophical niceties, dry and barren scholastic notions? -f- Shall we study every thing but Christ? revolve all volumes but the sacred ones? What is observed even of Bellarmine, J that he turned with loathing from school divinity, because it wanted the sweet juice of piety, may be convictive to many among us, who are often too much in love with worse employment than what he is said to loathe. O let the knowledge of Christ dwell richly in us.

Secondly, Let us see that our knowledge of Christ be not a powerless, barren, § unpractical knowledge : O that, in its passage from

* Peritum esse, et sine doctrina pietatis periturum : i. e. To be skilled in other things, and not in the gospel, is to perish. Augustin.

-f- We are not to study the niceties of rhetoric, so much as plainness and perspicuity; nor are we to speak in a high florid strain, as orators; but with the earnestness and zeal, and sincerity of the apostles: we are not to talk fine things, but what may convince the understanding, and touch the heart.

\ Quod a studiis scholasticce theologize avertereturjere nausebundus, quoniam succo cerebunt liquide pietatis, Fuligat. in vita Bel.

§ Beware, lest, while the tree of knowledge daily flourishes and thrives, the tree of practice should become barren. Take heed that ye rest not satisfied in the gifts of the Spirit, and begin to think nothing of the Spirit himself, the best gift. Ford, ay/vb. Sacr. p. 55.

oar understanding to our lips, it might powerfully melt, sweeten, and ravish our hearts! Remember, brethren, a holy calling never saved any man, without a holy heart; if our tongues only be sanctified, our whole man must be damned. " We and our people must " be judged by the same gospel, and stand at the same bar, and be M sentenced to the same terms, and dealt with as severely as any " other men: We cannot think to be saved by our clergy, or to " come off with a Legit ut clericus, when there is wanting the " Credit et vixit ut Christianus,-" as an eminent * Divine speaks. O let the keepers of the vineyard look to, and keep their own vineyard: we have a heaven to win or lose, as well as others.

Third!//, Let us take heed that we withhold not our knowledge of Christ in unrighteousness from the people. O that our lips may disperse knowledge and feed many. Let us take heed of the napkin, remembering the day of account is at hand-f\ Remember, I beseech you, the relations wherein you stand, and the obligations resulting thence: Remember, the great Shepherd gave himself for, and gave you to the flock; your time, your gifts are not yours, but God's; remember the pinching wants of souls, who are perishing for want of Christ; and if their tongues do not, yet their necessities do bespeak us, as they did Joseph, Gen. xlvii. 15. " Where- " fore should we die in thy presence? Give us food, that we may live " and not die." Even the sea monsters draw forth their breasts to their young ones, and shall we be cruel! cruel to souls! Did Christ not think it too much to sweat blood, yea, to die for them? and shall we think it much to watch, study, preach, pray, and do what we can for their salvation? O let the same mind be in you which was also in Christ!

Secondly, To the people that sit under the doctrine of Christ daily, and have the light of his knowledge shining round about them.

First, Take heed ye do not reject and despise this light. This may be done two ways: First, When you despise the means of knowledge by slight and low esteems of it. Surely, if you thus reject knowledge, God will reject you for it, Hos. iv. 6. It is a despising of the richest gift that ever Christ gave to the church; and however it be a contempt and slight that begins low, and seems only to vent itself upon the weak parts, in artificial discourses, and untaking tones and gestures of the speakers; yet,

* He approves himself a clerk, — but he neither believes nor lives as a Christian. Gildas Salvianus, p. 27.

-f- We may apply to ministers what Tacitus speaks of magistrates, Ita nati estis, ut bona viclcH/ue vesira ad rqrublicam jwtineant, i. e. On your good or bad conduct depends the good or ill of society,

believe it, it is a daring sin that flies higher than you are aware, Luke x. 16. " He that despiseth you, despiseth me; and he that " despiseth me, despiseth him that sent me.11 Secondly, You despise the knowledge of Christ, when you despise the directions and loving constraints of that knowledge; when you refuse to be guided by your knowledge, your light and your lusts contest and struggle within you. O it is sad when your lusts master your light. You sin not as the heathens sin, who know not God; but when you sin, you must slight and put by the notices of your own consciences, and offer violence to your own convictions. And what sad work will this make in your souls? How soon will it lay your consciences waste?

Secondly, Take heed that you rest not satisfied with that knowledge of Christ you have attained, but grow on towards perfection. It is the pride and ignorance of many professors, when they have got a few raw and indigested notions, to swell with self-conceit of their excellent attainments. And it is the sin, even of the best of saints, when they see ( Veritas in prqfundo) how deep the knowledge of Christ lies, and what pains they must take to dig for it, to throw by the shovel of duty, and cry, Dig we cannot. To your work, Christians, to your work; let not your candle go out: sequester j^ourselves to this study, look what intercourses, and correspondences are betwixt the two worlds; what communion soever God and souls maintain, it is in this way; count all, therefore, but dross in comparison of that excellency which is in the know* ledge of Jesus Christ.

XD-X-Se

SEHMON II.

Sets forth Christ in his essential and primeval Glorv*

prov. viii. 30.

Then was I by him, as one brought up with him: and I was daili/ his delight, rejoicing always before him.

X HESE words are a part of that excellent commendation of wisdom, by which in this book Solomon intends two things; first, Grace or holiness, Prov. iv. 7. " Wisdom is the principal " thing." Secondly, Jesus Christ, the fountain of that grace: and look, as the former is renowned for its excellency, Job xxviii. 14, 15. so the latter, in this context, wherein the Spirit of God describes the most blessed state of Jesus Christ, the wisdom of the Father, from those eternal delights he had with his Father, before his assumption of our nature: " Then was I by him," Sfc, that long Evum was wholly swallowed up, and spent in unspeakable delights and pleasures. Which delights were twofold, (1.) The Father and Son delighted one in another (from which delights the Spirit is not here excluded) without communicating that their joy to any other, for no creature did then exist save in the mind of God, verse 30. (2.) They delighted in the salvation of men, in the prospect of that work, though not yet extant, verse 31. My present business lies in the former, viz. the mutual delights of the Father and Son, one with and in another; the account whereof we have in the text; wherein consider,

1. The glorious condition of the non-incarnated Son of God, described by the person with whom his fellowship was, " Then " was I by him," or with him ; so with him as never was any, in his very bosom, John i. 18. the only begotten Son was in the bosom of the Father ; an expression of the greatest dearness and intimacy in the world ; as if he should say, wrapt up in the very soul of his Father, embosomed in God.

2. This fellowship is illustrated by a metaphor, wherein the Lord will stoop to our capacities, (as " One brought up with "him") the Hebrew word* ^73 X [Amon] is sometimes rendered a cunning workman, or curious artist \ as in Cant. vii. 1. which is the same word. And indeed Christ shewed himself such an artist in the creation of the world ; " For all things were made by him, " and without him there was nothing made, that was made,1' John i. 3. But Montanus, and others, render it nutricius ; and so Christ is here compared to a delightful child, sporting before its Father: the Hebrew rootf prny [Shachak,] which our translation renders " rejoicing before him," signifies to laugh, play, or rejoice; so that, look as parents delight to see their children sporting before them, so did the Father delight in beholding this dar* ling of his bosom.

3. This delight is farther amplified by the perpetuity and uninterruptedness thereof; " I was day by day his delights, rejoicing "always before him." { These delights of the Father and the

* [Amon] Signifies a Skilful Artist ; he is pleased to assume this character, in order to shew men, that their conversion is not owing to any strength of their own, but is the work of this skilful Artist. Brightman on Qtint. i. 26.

f [Shachak] Ridere, to laugh; ludere, to sport; latari, to rejoice: av6gu*oxa6aS9 after the manner of men; he compares himself to a pleasant child, standing before his father. Luvat. on this place.

\ [Jam, Jom Meshacheketh] continually rejoicing.

44" THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE. 6ERM. II.

Son one in another, knew not a moment's interruption, or diminution: thus did these great and glorious persons mutually let forth their fullest pleasure and delight, each into the heart of the other; they lay as it were embosomed one in another, entertaining themselves with delights and pleasures ineffable, and unconceivable. Hence we observe,

Doct. That the condition and state of Jesus Christ before his incarnation, was a state of the highest and most unspeakable delight and pleasure, in the enjoyment of his Father.

John tells us he was in the bosom of his Father: * to lie in the bosom is the posture of dearest love, John xiii. 23. " Now there " was leaning on Jesus1 bosom one of his disciples whom Jesus " loved:" but Christ did not lean upon the Father's bosom, as that disciple did in his, but lay in it: and therefore in Isa. xliii. 1. the Father calls him, " Mine elect in whom my soul delighteth;* which is-f- variously rendered; the Septuagint, quern suscepit, whom my sold takes, or wraps up: others, complacuit, one that highly pleases and delights my very soul: and 2 Cor. viii. 9. he is said, in this estate, wherein I am now describing him, to be rich: and, Phil. ii. 7. " To be equal with God, and to be in the form of " God," (i. e.) to have all the glory and ensigns of the majesty of God; and the riches which he speaks of, was no less than all that God the Father hath, John xvi. 14. " All that the Father hath is " mine:" and what he now hath in his exalted state, is the same he had before his humiliation, John xvii. 5. Now to sketch out (as we are able) the unspeakable felicity of that state of Christ, whilst he lay in that blessed bosom, I shall consider it three ways, negatively, positively, and comparatively.

1. Let us consider that state negatively, by removing from it all those degrees of abasement and sorrow which his incarnation brought him under : as,

First, He was not then abased to the condition of a creature, which was a low step indeed, and that which upon the matter undid him in point of reputation; for by this (saith the apostle) " he £ made himself of no reputation," Phil. ii. 7. it emptied him of his glory. For God to be made man, is such an abasement as none

* John i. 18. Here is insinuating, metaphorically, the intimate communion of the Son of God with the Father, which consists in eternal generation, in the strictest oneness or unity of nature, in the most ardent love, and in communication of the most secret affairs. Glass.

f Hieron. Quern approbat, i. e. Whom my soul approves. Pagninus & Mont anus, Complacuit aninuz mea, i. e. One that highly delights my soul. The Septuagint, Qusnt suscepit anima mea} i. e. Whom my soul takes or wraps up.

ERM. II. THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE. '45

can express: but then not only to appear in true flesh, but also in the likeness of sinful flesh, as, Rom. viii. 3. O what is this!

Secondly ', Christ was not under the law in this estate. I confess it was no disparagement to Adam in the state of innocency, to angels in their state of glory, to be under law to God; but it was an unconceivable abasement to the absolute independent Being to come under law: yea, not only under the obedience, but also under the malediction and curse of the law, Gal. iv. 4. " But when the " fulness of time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a f* woman, made under the law."

Thirdly, In this state he was not liable to any of those sorrowful consequents and attendants of that frail and feeble state of humanity, which he afterwards assumed, with the nature. As, (1.) He was unacquainted with griefs; there was no sorrowing or sighing in that bosom where he lay, though afterwards he became " a man " of sorrows, and acquainted with grief,''1 Isa. liii. 3. " A man of " sorrows," as if he had been constituted and made up of pure and unmixed sorrows; every day conversing with griefs, as with his intimate companions and acquaintance. (2.) He was never pinched with poverty and wants, while he continued in that bosom, as he was afterwards, when he said, " The foxes have holes, *' and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath *' not where to lay his head," Matth. viii. 20. Ah blessed Jesus! thou needest not to have wanted a place to have lain thine head, hadst thou not left that bosom for my sake. * (3.) He never underwent reproach and shame in that bosom, there was nothing but glory and honour reflected upon him by his Father, though afterwards he was despised, and rejected of men, Isa. liii. 3. His Father never looked upon him without smiles and love, delight and joy, though afterwards he became a reproach of men, and despised of the people, Psalm xxii. 6. (4.) His holy heart was never offended with an impure suggestion or temptation of the Devil; all the while he lay in that bosom of peace and love, he never knew what it was to be assaulted with temptations, to be besieged and battered upon by unclean spirits, as he did afterwards, Mat. iv. 1. " Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness " to be tempted of the Devil." It was for our sakes that he submitted to those exercises of spirit, " to be in all points tempted

* He that ivas in the bosom of his Father ; an expression showing the intimate, close, and secret delight and love he had from the Father. How unspeakable is it, that he should deprive himself of the sense of it ? to put himself, as it were, out of heaven into hell ? this is deeper love than ever we can imagine or conceive : No wonder the apostle calls it VtpOlttW)) [pcrisseuon], and vwipftlPltylvm [hi/perpuisseuon] the unsearchable riches of grace ; we are never able to go to the bottom of it, but still there is more grace and love behind, Mr, Anth. Burgess, led. on John xvii. p. 505.

" like as we are, that he might be unto us a merciful and faith- " ful High-priest,'1 Heb. iv. 15. (5.) He was never sensible of pains and tortures in soul or body, there were no such things in that blessed bosom where he lay, though afterwards he groaned and sweat under them, Isa. liii. 5. The Lord embraced him from eternity, but never wounded him till he stood in our place and room. (6.) There were no hidings or withdrawings of his Father from him; there was not a cloud from eternity upon the face of God, till Jesus Christ had left that bosom. It was a new thing to Christ to see frowns in the face of his Father; a new thing for him to cry, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Mat. xxvii. 46. (7.) There were never any impressions of his Fathers wrath upon him, as there were afterwards: God never delivered such a bitter cup into his hands before, as that was, Matth. xxvi. 39. Lastly, There was do death, to which he was subject, in that bosom. All these things were new things to Christ; he was above them all, till for our sakes he voluntarily subjected himself unto them. Thus you see what that state was not.

2. Let us consider it positively ', what it was, and guess by some

particular considerations (for indeed we can but guess) at the glory

of it; as, (1.) We cannot but conceive it to be a state of matchless

happiness, if we consider the persons enjoying and delighting in

each other: he was with God, John i. 1. God, you know, is

the fountain, ocean and centre of all delights and joys: Psal. xvi.

11. " In thy presence is fulness of joy." To be wrapt up in the

soul and bosom of all delights, as Christ was, must needs be a

state transcending apprehension ; to have the fountain of love and

delight letting out itself so immediately, and fully, and everlastingly, upon this only begotten darling of his soul, so as it never

did communicate itself to any ; judge what a state of transcendent

felicity this must be. Great persons have great delights.

(2.) Or if we consider the intimacy, dearness, yea, oneness of those great persons one with another : the nearer the union, the sweeter the communion. Now Jesus Christ was not only near and dear to God, but one with him ; " I and my Father are one," John x. 30. one in nature, will, love and delight There is indeed a moral union of souls among men by love, but this was a natural oneness ; no child is so one with his father, no husband so one with the wife of his bosom, no friend so one with his friend* no soul so one with its body, as Jesus Christ and his Father were one. O what matchless delights must necessarily flow from such a blessed union !

(3.) Consider again the purity of that delight with which the blessed Father and Son embraced each other ; the best creaturedelights one in another, are mixed, debased, and allayed ; if there

be something ravishing and engaging, there is also something cloying and distasting. The purer any delight is, the more excellent. Sow, there are no chrystal streams flowing so purely from the fountain, no beams of light so unmixed from the sun, as the loves and delights of these holy and glorious persons were: the holy, holy, holy Father embraced the thrice holy Son with a most holy delight and love.

(4.) Consider the constancy of this delight ; it was from everlasting, as in verse 23. and from eternity ; it never suffered one moment's interruption. The overflowing fountain of God's delight and love never stopped its course, never ebbed ; but as he speaks in the text, " I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before " him." Once more, consider the fulness of that delight, the perfection of that pleasure ; / was delights : so the word is in its original; not only plural, delights, all delights, but also in the abstract, delight itself : as afterwards from the abundance of his sorrows, he was stiled, a man of sorrows ; so here, from the fulness of his de-> lights : as though you should say, even constituted and made up of pleasure and delight.

3. Once more, let us consider it comparatively, and this state will yet appear more glorious, comparing it with either the choicest delights that one creature takes in another, or that God takes in the creature, or that the creatures take in God : measure these immense delights, betwixt the Father and his Son, by either of these lines, and you shall find them infinitely short : For, (1.) Though the delights that creatures take in each other, be sometimes a great delight ; such was Jacob's delight in Benjamin, whose life is said to be bound up in the lad's life, a dear and high expression, Gen. xliv. 30. Such was that of Jonathan in David, whose soul was knit with his soul, " and he loved him as his own soul," 1 Sam. xiii. 1. and such is the delight of one friend in another: n there is a friend that is as a man's own soul," Deut. xiii. 6. yet all this is but creature-delight, and can in no particular equal the delights betwixt the Father and the Son ; for this is but a finite delight, according to the measure and abilities of creatures, but that is infinite, suitable to the infinite perfection of the divine Being ; this is always mixed, that perfectly pure. (2.) Or if you compare it with the delight that God takes in the creatures, it is confessed that God takes great delight in some creatures. " The Lord " takes pleasure in his saints, he rejoices over them with singing ! " and restetli in his love," Zeph. iii. 17. Isa. lxii. 5. But yet there is a great difference betwixt his delight in creatures, and his delights in Christ ; for all his delight in the saints is secondary, and for Christ's sake ; but his delights in Christ dire primary, and for 'his own sake : we are accepted in the beloved, Eph. i. 6. he is be*

loved, and accepted for himself. (3.) To conclude, compare it once more with the delights that the best of creatures take in God, and Christ, and it must be confessed that is a choice delight, and a transcendent love, with which they love and delight in him; * Psal. lxxiii. 25. " Whom have I in heaven but thee? and on " earth there is none I desire besides thee." What pangs of love, what raptures of delight did the spouse express to Christ? " O thou " whom my soul loveth F But surely our delight in God is no perfect rule to measure his delight in Christ by: for our love to God (at the best) is still imperfect; that is the burden and constant complaint of saints, but this is perfect; ours is inconstant, up and down, ebbing and flowing, but this is constant. So then, to conclude, the condition and state of Jesus Christ before his incarnation, was a state of the highest and matchless delight, in the enjoyment of his Father. The uses follow.

Use of Information.

INFERENCE 1.

What an astonishing act of love was this then, for the Father to give the delight, the darling, of his soul, out of his very bosom, for poor sinners! all tongues must needs pause and falter, that attempt the expressions of his grace, expressions being here swallowed up: (i God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten " Son," John hi. 16. Here is a sic without a sicut; so loved them: how did he love them? nay, here you must excuse the tongues of angels; which of us would deliver a child, the child of our delights, an only child, to death for the greatest inheritance in the world? what tender parent can endure a parting pull with such a child? when Hagar was taking her last leave (as she thought) of her Ishmael, Gen. xxi. 16. the text saith, " she went and sat " her down over against him, a good way off: for she said, Let " me not see the death of the child. And she sat over-against ** him, and lift up her voice, and wept:" though she were none of the best of mothers, nor he the best of children, yet she could not give up the child. O it was hard to part! what an outcry did David make, even for an Absalom! wishing he had died for him. What a hole (as I may say) hath the death of some children made in the hearts of some parents, which will never be closed up in this world! yet surely, never did any child lie so close to a parent's

* Amo te, JDomine, plusguam meos , plusquam mea,plusquam me, i. e. O Lord, I lore thee above all my relations, above all that is mine, above myself. Bern.

Suppose (saith one) there were a hell betwixt me and Christ, and Christ should say, put in thy foot and come tbjrough , or thou shalt have none of me, would I not

doit.

£erm. it. the fountain of life\ 49

heart, as Christ did to his Father's; and yet he willingly parts with him, though his only one, the Son of his delights, and that to death, a cursed death, for sinners, for the worst of sinners. O tniranda Dei phUanthropia! O the admirable love of God to men! matchless love! a love past finding out! Let all men, therefore, in the business of their redemption, give equal glory to the Father with the Son, John v. 23. if the Father had not loved thee, he had never parted with such a Son for thee.

INFERENCE 2.

From one wonder let our souls turn to another, for they are now in the midst of wonders: adore, and be for ever astonished at the love of Jesus Christ to poor sinners; that ever he should consent to leave such a bosom, and the ineffable delights that were there, for such poor worms as we are. O the heights, depths, lengths, and breadths of unmeasurable love! O see, Rom. v. 6, 7, 8. read, and wonder; how is the love of Christ commended in ravishing circumstances to poor sinners! * You would be loth to leave a creature's bosom, a comfortable dwelling, a fair estate for the best friend in the world; your souls are loth to leave their bodies, though they have no such great content there; but which of you, if ever you found by experience what it is to be in the bosom of God by divine communion, would be persuaded to leave such a bosom for all the good that is in the world? and yet Jesus Christ who was embraced in that bosom after another manner than ever you were acquainted with, freely left it, and laid down the glory and riches he enjoyed there, for your sakes; and as the Father loved him; even so (believers) hath he loved you, John xvii. 22. What manner of love is this! Who ever loved as Christ loves? Who ever denied himself for Christ, as Christ denied himself for us?

INFERENCE 3.

Hence we are informed, That interest in Jesus Christ is the true way to all spiritual preferment in heaven. Do you covet to be in the heart, in the favour and delight of God? Get interest in Jesus Christ, and you shall presently be there. What old Israel said of the children of his beloved Joseph, Thy children are my children; the same God saith of all the dear children of Christ, Gen. xlviii. 5, 9- You see among men, all things are carried by interest:

* It is admirable that Christ should not only put himself out of comfort, but also from the enjoyment of that manifested glory and honour he might have retained to himself: for he prayeth here for that glory which he had with the Father from the beginning of the world : he had it in right, but not in possession ; he voluntarily divest* ed himself of that to accomplish our redemption, JZurgess on John xvii. 19.

persons rise in this world as they are befriended; preferment goes by favour: So it is in heaven, persons are preferred according to their interest in the beloved, Eph. i. 9. Christ is the great favourite in heaven: his image upon your souls, and his name in your prayers, makes both accepted with God.

INFERENCE 4.

How worthy is Jesus Christ of all our love and delights? Yoil see how infinitely the Father delighteth in him, how he ravishes the heart of God; and shall he not ravish our hearts? I present you a Christ this day, able to ravish any soul that will but view and consider him. 6 that you did but see this lovely Lord Jesus Christ! Then would you go home sick of love: surely he is a drawing Saviour, John xii. 32. Why do ye lavish away your precious affections upon vanity: None but Christ is worthy of them: when you spend your precious affections upon other objects, what is it but to dig for dross with golden mattocks? The Lord direct our hearts into the love of Christ. O that our hearts, loves and delights did meet and concentre with the heart of God in this most blessed object! O let him that left God's bosom for you, be embosomed by you, though yours be nothing to God's; he that left God's bosom for you, deserves yours.

INFERENCE 5.

If Christ be the beloved darling of the Father's soul, think what a grievous and insufferable thing it is to the heart of God, to see his dear Son despised, slighted, and rejected by sinners: verily, there is no such cut to the heart of God in the whole world. Unbelievers trample upon God's darling, tread under foot him that eternally lay in his bosom, Heb. x. 29. Smite the Apple of his eye, and how God will bear this, that parable, Mat. xxi. 37, to 40, will inform you; surely he will miserably destroy such wretched sinners. If you would study to do God the greatest despight, there is none like this. What a dismal word is that; 1 Cor. xvi. 22. " If any " man love not our Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema Ma- <c ranatha," (i. e.) let the great curse of God lie upon that man till the Lord come. O sinners! you shall one day know the price of this sin; you shall feel what it is to despise a Jesus, that is able to compel love from the hardest heart. O that you would slight him no more! O that this day your hearts might fall in love with him! I tell you, if you would set your love to sale, none bids so lair for it as Christ.

2. Use of Exportation

1. To saints : If Christ lay eternally in this bosom of love, and yet was content to forsake and leave it for your sakes ; then, (1.) Be you

ready to forsake and leave all the comforts you have on earth for Christ: famous Galleacius left all for this enjoyment. Moses left all the glory of Egypt: Peter, and the other Apostles left all, Luke xviii. 28. But what have we to leave for Christ in comparison of what he left for us? Surely Christ is the highest pattern of self-denial in the world. (2.) Let this confirm your faith in prayer: If he, that has such an interest in the heart of God, intercede with the Father for you, then never doubt of audience and acceptance with him; surely you shall be accepted through the beloved, Eph. i. 6. Christ was never denied any thing that he asked, John xi. 42. the Father hears him always; though you are not worthy, Christ is, and he ever lives to make intercession for you, Heb. vii. 25.

(3.) Let this encourage thy heart, O saint, in a dying hour, and not only make thee patient in death, but in a holy manner impatient till thou be gone ; for whither is thy soul now going, but to that bosom of love whence Christ came ? John xvii. 24. " Fa- " ther, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with <c me where I am :" and where is he but in that bosom of glory and love where he lay before the world was ? ver. 5. O then let every believer encourage his soul ; comfort ye one another with these words, I am leaving the bosom of a creature, I am going to the bosom of God.

2. To sinners, exhorting them to embrace the bosom-son of God : Poor Wretches ! Whatever you are, or have been ; whatever guilt or discouragement at present you lie under ; embrace Christ, who is freely offered to you, and you shall be as dear to God as the holiest and most eminent believer in the world : but if you still continue to despise and neglect such a Saviour, sorer wrath is treasured up for you than other sinners, even something worse than dying without mercy, Heb. x. 28. O that these discoveries and overtures of Christ ? lay never come to such a fatal issue with any of your souls, in vhose eyes his glory hath been this day opened !

5% THE -FOUNTAIN- of life. serm. iii

SERMON III.

Opens the Covenant of Redemption betwixt the Father and the Redeemer.

Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong, because he hath poured out his soul unto death: and he was numbered with the transgressors, and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.

JlN this chapter, the gospel seems to be epitomized; the subjectmatter of it is the death of Christ, and the glorious issue thereof: by reading of it, the Eunuch of old, and many Jews since, have been converted to Christ. Christ is here considered absolutely, and relatively; Absolutely, and so his innocency is industriously vindicated, ver. 9. Though he suffered grievous things, yet not for his own sins, " for he had done no violence, neither " was any deceit in his mouth;" but relatively considered in the capacity of a surety for us: so the justice of God is so fully vindicated in his sufferings; ver. 6. " The Lord hath laid upon him the " iniquity of us all.''1 How he came to sustain this capacity and relation of a surety for us, is in these verses plainly asserted to be by his compact and agreement with his Father, * before the worlds were made, verse 10, 11, 12.

In this verse we have, 1. His work. 2. His reward. 3. The respect or relation of each to the other. (1.) His work, which was indeed a hard work, to pour out his soul unto death, aggravated by the companions, with whom, being numbered with transgressors; the capacity in which, bearing all the sins of the elect, " he bare the " sins of many;"" and by the manner of his bearing it, viz. meekly, and forgivingly, " he made intercession for the transgressors; This was his work. (2.) The reward or fruit which is promised him for this work, " therefore will I divide him a portion with " the great, and he will divide the spoil with the strong;" wherein is a plain allusion to conquerors in war, for whom are reserved the richest garments, and most honourable captives to follow the

* Norton's Orthodox Evangelist^ p. 41. The call of the Lord Jesus unto office, includes election on the Father's part, and acceptation on the Mediator's part, and is set down after the manner of mutual transaction between God and Christ ; whereby he was designed thereunto, as it were by way of covenant. If his soul should set itself an offering for sin, (for so, according to the original, do good authors read the text) " he shall see his seed, prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall pros- • per in his hand," verse 10,

conqueror, as an addition to his magnificence and triumph; these were wont to come after them in chains, Isa. xlv. 14. see Judges v. 3. (3.) The respect or relation betwixt that work and this triumph: some will have this work to have no other relation to that glory, than a mere antecedent to a consequent: others give it the respect and relation of a meritorious cause to a reward. It is well observed by Dr. Featly, that the Hebrew particle pb which we render therefore, noting order, is not worth so much contention about it, whether it be the order of casualty, or mere antecedency; neither do I foresee any absurdity in calling Christ's exaltation the reward and fruit of his humiliation: however, it is plain, whether one or other, it is that the Father here agrees and promises to give him, if he will undertake the redemption of the elect, by pouring out his soul unto death; of all which this is the plain result:

Doct. That the business of man! s salvation was transacted upon covenant terms, betwixt the Father andthe Son, from all eternity.

I would not here be mistaken, as though I were now to treat of the covenant of grace, made in Christ betwixt God and us; it is not the covenant of grace, but of redemption, I am now to speak to, which differs from the covenant of grace, in regard of the federates; in thiSj it is God the Father, and Jesus Christ, that mutually covenant; in that, it is God and man: they differ, also in the preceptive part; in this it is required of Christ that he should shed his blood, in that it is required of us that we believe. They also differ in their promises; in this, God promises to Christ a name above every name, ample dominion from sea to sea; in that, to us, grace and glory: so that these are two distinct covenants. *

The substance of this covenant of redemption is, dialogue- wise, expressed to us in Isa. xlix.-)- where, (as divines have well observed) Christ begins, at the first and second verses, and shews his commission, telling his Father, how he had both called, and prepared him for the work of redemption; The Lord hath called me from the womb — he hath made my mouth like a sharp sword, and made me a polished shaft, &c. q. d. by reason of that superabundant measure of the spirit of wisdom and power wherewith I am anointed and filled; my doctrine shall, as a sword, pierce the hearts of sinners; yea, like an arrow, drawn to the head, strike deep into souls standing at a great distance from God and godliness.

* The author writes in the popular style of the last age. However, later writers, for very important reasons, have rejected the distinction as not only inaccurate* but as pregnant with consequences highly inimical to the sovereignty of grace. See Witsius de Oeconomia Fcederum, Boston s View of the Covenant of Grace, and Gib's Sacred Contemplations. Editor.

f Vide Goodwin's Triumph of Faith.

Having told God how ready, and fit he was for his service, he will know of him what reward he shall have for his work, for he resolves his blood shall not be undervalued; hereupon, verse 3. the Father offers him the elect of Israel for his reward, bidding low at first (as they that make bargains use to do) and only offers him that small remnant, still intending to bid higher: But Christ will not be satisfied with these, he values his blood higher than so: therefore, in verse 4. he is brought in complaining, " I have la- " boured in vain, and spent my strength for nought," q. d. This is but a small reward for so great a suffering, as I must undergo; my blood is much more worth than this comes to, and will be sufficient to redeem all the elect dispersed among the isles of the Gentiles, as well as the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Hereupon the Father comes up higher, and tells him, he intends to reward him better than so; and therefore, verse 6. says, " It is a light " thing that thou shouldst be my servant to raise up the tribes of " Jacob, and to restore the preserved of Israel; I will also give " thee for a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my salva- " tion to the ends of the earth." Thus is the treaty carried on betwixt them, transacting it after the manner of men.

Now, to open this great point, we will here consider, (1.) The persons transacting one with another. (2.) The business transacted. (3.) The quality and manner of the transaction, which is federal. (4.) The articles to which they agree. (5.) How each person performs his engagement to the other. And, Lastly, The antiquity or eternity of this covenant transaction.

(1.) The persons transacting and dealing with each other in this covenant ; and indeed they are great persons, God the Father, and God the Son ; the former as a Creditor, and the latter as a Surety. The Father stands uDon satisfaction, the Son engages to give it. If it be demanded, why the Father and the Spirit might not as well have treated upon our redemption, as the Father and Son ! It is answered, Christ is the natural Son of God, and therefore fittest to make us the adopted sons of God. Christ also is the middle person in the Trinity, and therefore fittest to be the mediator and middle person betwixt us and God. * The Spirit hath another office assigned him, even to apply, as Chrisf s vicegerent, the redemption designed by the Father, and purchased by the Son for us.

(2.) The business transacted betwixt them ; and that was the redemption and recovery of all God's elect : our eternal happiness lay now before them, our dearest and everlasting concerns were now in their hands : the elect (though not yet in being) are here

* Vide Robert's Medulla Bib. p. 1577, et Lys. Test. p. 83, 84.

considered as existent, yea, and as fallen, miserable, forlorn creatures: * How these may again be restored to happiness (salva justitia Dei) without prejudice to the honour, justice and truth of God; this, this is the business that lay before them.

(3.) For the manner, or quality of the transaction, it wasjederal, or of the nature of a covenant ; it was by mutual engagements and stipulations, each person undertaking to perform his part in order to our recovery.

We find each person undertaking for himself by solemn promise; the Father promiseth that he will " hold his hand, and " keep him," Isa. xlii. 6. The Son promiseth, he will obey his Father's call to suffering, and not " be rebellious,1' Isa. 1. 5. And, having promised, each holds the other to his engagement. The Father stands upon the satisfaction promised him; and, when the payment was making, he will not abate him one farthing, Rom. viii. 32. " God spared not his own Son," i. e. he abated nothing of the full price he was to have at his hands for us.

And as the Father stood strictly upon the terms of the covenant, so did Christ also; John xvii. 45. " I have glorified thee " on earth, (saith he to the Father) I have finished the work " thou gavest me to do; and now, Father, glorify me with thine " own self." As if he had said, Father, the work is done, now where is the wages I was promised? I call for glory as my due, as much my due as the hire of the labourer is his due, when his work is done.

4. More particularly ; we will next consider the articles to which they do both agree ; or, what it is that each person doth for himself promise to the other. And, to let us see how much the Father's heart is engaged in the salvation of poor sinners, there are five things which he promiseth to do for Christ, if he will undertake that work.

First, He promiseth to invest him, and anoint him to a threefold office, answerable to the misery that lay upon the elect as so many bars to all communion with, and enjoyment of God; for, if ever man be restored to that happiness, the blindness of his mind must be cured, the guilt of sin expiated, and his captivity to sin led captive: answerably, Christ must, " of God, be made unto " us, wisdom, righteousness, sanctification and redemption," 1 Cor. i. 30. And he is made so to us as our Prophet, Priest, and

* The external cause of that satisfaction, which the Father decreed, and the Son made, was the miserable state we were in, upon the account of our sins, which justlydeserved eternal punishment, and bound us over unto it : we being in this forlorn condition, the God of mercy had compassion on us, and for our sakes, the Son of God underwent all that punishment which we deserved to suffer ; in order that we might be restored to our first happiness. Synap. purior. Theol. p. 350.

King; but he could not put himself into either of these; for if so, he had acted without commission, and consequently all he did had been invalid; Heb. v. 5. " Christ glorified not himself to be made an " High-Priest, but he that said unto him, Thou art my Son." A commission therefore to act authoritatively, in these offices, being necessary to our recovery, the Father engages to him to seal him such a threefold commission.

He promiseth to invest him with an eternal and royal Priesthood, Psal. ex. 4. " The Lord hath sworn, and will not repent; Thou u art a priest for ever, after the order of Melchisedec." This Melchisedec being King of Righteousness, and king of Salem, that is, Peace, had a royal priesthood; and his descent not being reckoned, it had an adumbration of eternity in it, and so was more apt to type and shadow forth the priesthood of Christ than Aaron's was, Heb. vii. 16, 17, 24, 25. as the apostle accommodates them there.

He promiseth moreover to make him a Prophet, and that an extraordinary one, even the Prince of prophets; the chief Shepherd, as much superior to all others, as the sun is to the lesser stars; so you have it, Isa. xlii. 6, 7. "I will give thee for a *' light to the Gentiles, to open the blind eyes,11 #c.

And not only so, but to make him king also, and that of the whole empire of the world; so Psal. ii. 6, 7, 8. " Ask of me, and " I will give thee the Heathen for thine inheritance, and the ut- " most ends of the earth for thy possession.11 Thus he promiseth to qualify and furnish him completely for the work, by his investiture with this threefold office.

Secondly, And forasmuch as he knew it was a hard and difficult work his Son was to undertake, a work that would have broken the backs of all the angels in heaven, and men on earth, had they engaged in it; therefore he promiseth to stand by him, and assist and strengthen him for it: so, Isa, xlii. 5, 6, 7. *' I will hold thy " hand," or take hold of thee with my hands, for so it may be rendered, * i. e. I will underprop and support thy humanity, when it is even overweighted with the burden that is to come upon it, and ready to sink down under it; for so you know the case stood with him, Mark xiv. 34. and so it was foretold of him, Isa. liii. 7. " He was oppressed,11 Sfc. and indeed the humanity needed a prop of no less strength than the infinite power of the Godhead: the same promise you have in the first verse also, " Behold my ser- " vant whom I uphold."

Thirdly, He promiseth to crown his work with success, and

* I, -whose power is boundless and infinite, will so befriend and support theet that all thy enemies shall not be able to hurt thee. Marlot, on th.is place.

bring it to an happy issue, Isa. liii. 10. " He shall see his seed, he " shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall pros- " per in his hand." He shall not begin, and not finish; he shall not shed his invaluable blood upon hazardous terms; but shall see and reap the sweet fruits thereof; as the joyful mother forgets her pangs, when she delightfully embraces and kisses her living child.

Fourthly, The Father promiseth to accept him in his work, though millions should certainly perish, Isa. xlix. 4. " Surely (saith he) " my work is with the Lord." And, verse 5. " I shall be glori- " ous in the eyes of the Lord." His faith hath therein respect to this compact and promise. Accordingly, the Father manifests the satisfaction he had in him, and in his work, even while he was about it upon the earth, when there came such a " voice from the " excellent glory, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am " well pleased."

Fifthly, As he engaged to reward him highly for his work, by exalting him to singular aud super-eminent glory and honour, when he should have dispatched and finished it. So you read, Psal. ii. 7. " I will declare the decree; the Lord hath said unto me, Thou " art my Son, this day have I begotten thee." It is spoken of the day of his resurrection, when he had just finished his sufferings. And so the apostle expounds and applies it, Acts xiii. 32, 33. For then did the Lord wipe away the reproach of his cross, and invested him with such glory, that he looked like himself again. As if the Father had said, now thou hast again recovered thy glory, and this day is to thee as a new birth-day.

These are the encouragements and rewards proposed and promised to him by the Father. This was the joy set before him," (as the apostle phraseth it in Heb. xii. 2.) which made him so patiently to " endure the cross, and despise the shame."

And in like manner Jesus Christ restipulates, and gives his engagement to the Father; that, upon these terrns, he is content to be made flesh, to divest, as it were, himself of his glory, to come under the obedience and malediction of the law, and not to refuse any, the hardest sufferings it should please his Father to inflict on him. So much is implied in Isa. 1. 5, 6, 7. " The Lord hath open- " ed mine ear, and I was not rebellious, neither turned away " back; I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to them " that pulled off the hair; I hid not my face from shame and spit- " ting: For the Lord God will help me, therefore shall I not be " confounded; I have set my face as a flint, and I know that I a shall not be ashamed." When he saith, I was not rebellious, *nnra he meaneth, I was most heartily willing, and content to

accept the terms; for there is a Meiosis in the words, and much more is intended than expressed. And the sense of this place is well delivered to us in other terms, Psal. xl. 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. " Then a said I, Lo I come, I delight to do thy will, O God, thy law is " within my heart."1 O see with what a full consent the heart of Christ closeth with the Father's offers and proposals; like some echo, that answers your voice twice or thrice over. So doth Christ here answer his Fathers call, " I come, I delight to do thy ii will; yea, thy law is in my heart. " And thus you see the articles to which they both subscribed, or the terms they agreed on.

(5.) I will briefly shew how these articles, and agreements were on both parts, performed, and that precisely and punctually. For, (1.) The Son having thus consented, accordingly he applies himself to the discharge of his work. He took a body, in it fulfilled all righteousness, even to a tittle, Matth. iii. 15. And at last his oul was made an offering for sin, so that he could say as it is, ?John xvii. 4. " Father, I have glorified thee on earth, I have " finished the work thou gavest me to do." He went through all the parts of his active, and passive obedience, cheerfully and faithfully. (2.) The Father made good his engagements to Christ, all along, with no less faithfulness than Christ did his. He promised to assist, and hold his hand, and so he did; Luke xxii. 23. " And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthen- " ing him." That was one of the sorest brunts that ever Christ met with ; this was seasonable aid and succour. He promised to accept him in his work, and that he should be glorious in his eyes ; so he did : for -he not only declared it by a voice from heaven, Luke iii. 22. " Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well " pleased •" But it was fullv declared in his resurrection and ascension, which were a full discharge and justification of him. He promised him that " He should see his seed," and so he did ; for his very birth-dew was as the dew of the morning; and ever since his blood has been fruitful in the world. He promised gloriously to reward and exalt him ; and so he hath, Phil. ii. 9, 10, 11. and that highly and super-eminentlv, " giving him a name " above every name in heaven and earth." Thus were the articles performed.

(6.) Lastly, When was this compact made betwixt the Father and the Son? I answer, it bears date from eternity. * Before this world was made, then were his delights in us, while as yet we had no existence, but only in the infinite mind and purpose of God,

* Antequnm ab omnibus retro senilis tempora fluere inciperent, decrcvk Deus hanc nnhis 'alutis gratiam per Christum conferre : i. e. From all eternity. God decreed to bestow on us the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ.

who had decreed this for us in Christ Jesus, as the apostle speaks, 2 Tim. i. 9- What grace was that which was given us in Christ before the world began, but this grace of redemption, which was from everlasting thus contrived and designed for us, in that way which hath been here opened? Then was the council, or consultation of peace betwixt them both, as some take that scripture, Zech. vi. 13.

Next let us apply it to ourselves.

Use 1. The first use that offers itself to us from hence, is the abundant security that God hath given the elect for their salvation, and that not only in respect of the covenant of grace made with them, but also of this covenant of redemption made with Christ for them; which indeed is the foundation of the covenant qf grace. God's single promise is security enough to our faith, his covenant of grace adds, ex abundanti, farther security; but both these viewed as the effects and fruits of this covenant of redemption, make all fast and sure. In the covenant of grace, we question not the performance on God's part, but we are often stumbled at the grand defects on our parts. But when we look to the covenant of redemption there is nothing to stagger our faith, both the federates being infinitely able and faithful to perform their parts; so that there is no possibility of a failure there. Happy were it, if puzzled and perplexed Christians would turn their eyes from the defects that are in their obedience, to the fulness and completeness of Christ's obedience; and see themselves complete in him, when most lame and defective in themselves.

2. Hence also to be informed, that God the Father, and God the

Son, do mutually rely and trust to one another in the business of our

redemption. The Father relies upon the Son for the performance of

his part; as it is, Isa. xlii. 1. " Behold my servant, whom I uphold."

Montanus * turns it, on whom I lean or depend. As if the Father

had said, behold what a faithful servant I have chosen, in whom

my soul is at rest : I know he will go through with his work, I

can depend upon him. And, to speak plain, the Father so far

trusted Christ, that upon the credit of his promise to come into the

world, and in the fulness of time to become a sacrifice for the elect,

he saved all the Old-Testament saints, whose faith also respected a

Christ to come; with reference whereto, it is said, Heb. xi. 39,

40. " That they received not the promises, God having provided

" some better things for us, that thev without us should not be

" made perfect," i. e. without Jesus Christ manifested in the flesh,

in our times ; though believed on, as to come in the flesh, in their

times. And as the Father trusted Christ, so doth Christ, in like

manner, depend upon, and trust his Father. For, having performed his part, and left the world again, he now trusteth his Father for the accomplishment of that promise made him, Isa. liii. 10. " That he shall see his seed," fyc. He depends upon his Father for all the elect that are left behind, yet unregenerated, as well as those already called, that they shall be all preserved unto the heavenly kingdom, according to that, John xvii. 11. "And now I " am no more in the world, but these are in the world; and I " come unto thee: holy Father, keep, through thine own name, " those whom thou hast given me.11 And can it be imagined, that the Father will fail in his trust, who every way acquitted himself so punctually to the Son? It cannot be.

Use 3. Moreover, hence we infer the validity and unquestionable success of Christ's intercession in heaven for believers. You read, Heb. vii. 25. " That he ever lives to make intercession; and, Heb. xii. 24. " That his blood speaks for good things for them." Now, that his blood shall obtain what it pleads in heaven for, is undoubted, and that from the consideration of this covenant of redemption. For here you see that the things he now asks of his Father, are the very same which his Father promised him, and covenanted to give him, before this world was. So that, besides the interest of the person, the very equity of the matter speaks its success, and requires performance. Whatever he asks for us, is as due to him as the wages of the hireling, when the work is ended; if the work be done, and done faithfully, as the Father hath acknowledged it is, then the reward is due, and due immediately; and no doubt but he shall receive it from the hands of a righteous God.

Use 4. Hence, in like manner, you may be informed of the consistency of grace with full satisfaction to the justice of God. The apostle, 2 Tim. i. 9. tells us, "We are saved according to his own " purpose and grace, which was given us in Jesus Christ before the 3! world began.11 i. e. According to the gracious terms of this covenant of redemption; and yet you see notwithstanding, how strictly God stands upon satisfaction from Christ; so then, grace to us, and satisfaction to justice, are not so inconsistent as the Socinian adversaries would make them; what was debt to Christ, is grace to us: when you hear men cry out, Here is grace indeed! pay me all, and I will forgive you; remember, how all mouths are stopt with that one text, Rom. iii. 24. " Being justified freely by " his grace;" and yet he adds, " through the redemption that is in Christ.11

Use 5. Again, Hence judge of the antiquity of the love of God to believers! what an ancient friend he hath been to us; who loved us, provided for us, and contrived all our happiness, before we were, yea, before the world was. We reap the fruits of this covenant now, the seed whereof was sown from eternity; yea, it is

SERM. III.

not only ancient, but also most free: no excellencies of ours could engage the love of God; for as yet we were not.

Use 6. Hence judge, How reasonable it is that believers should embrace the hardest terms of' obedience unto Christ, who complied with such hard terms for their salvation: they were hard and difficult terms indeed, on which Christ received you from the Father's hand: it was, as you have heard, to pour out his soul unto death, or not to enjoy a soul of you. Here you may suppose the Father to say, when driving his bargain with Christ for you:

Father. My Son, here is a company of poor miserable souls, that have utterly undone themselves, and now lie open to my justice! Justice demands satisfaction for them, or will satisfy itself in the eternal ruin of them: What shall be done for these souls? And thus Christ returns.

Son, O my Father, such is my love to, and pity for them, that rather than they shall perish eternally, I will be responsible for them as their Surety; bring in all thy bills, that I may see what they owe thee; Lord, bring them all in, that there may be no after-reckonings with them; at my hand shalt thou require it. I will rather choose to suffer thy wrath than they should suffer it: upon me, my Father, upon me be all their debt.

Father. But, my Son, if thou undertake for them, thou must reckon to pay the last mite, expect no abatements; if I spare them, I will not spare thee.

Son. Content, Father, let it be so; charge it all upon me, I am able to discharge it: and though it prove a kind of undoing to me, though it impoverish all my riches, empty all my treasures, (for so indeed it did, 2 Cor. viii. 9. " Though he was rich, yet for our " sakes he became poor1') yet I am content to undertake it. Blush, *' ungrateful believers, O let shame cover your faces; judge in yourselves now, hath Christ deserved that you should stand with him for trifles, that you should shrink at a few petty difficulties, and complain, this is hard, and that is harsh? O if you knew the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ in this his wonderful condescension for you, you could not do it.

Use 7. Lastly, How greatly are we all concerned to make it sure to ourselves, that we are of this number which the Father and the Son agreed for before the world was; that we were comprehended in Christ s engagement and compact with the Father f

Obj. Yea, but you will say, who can know that, there were no witnesses to that agreement.

Sol. Yes, We may know, without ascending into heaven, or prying into unrevealed secrets, that our names were in that covenant, if, (1.) You are believers indeed; for all such the Father then gave to Christ, John xvii. 8. " The men that thou gavest me

u (for of them he spake immediately before) they have believed " that thou didst send me." (2.) If you savingly know God in Jesus Christ, such were given him by the Father, John xvii. 6. " I have manifested thy name unto the men thou gavest me." By this they are discriminated from the rest, verse 25. " The world " hath not known thee, but these have known," fyc. (3.) If you are men and women of another world; John xvii. 16. " They " are not of the world, as I am not of the world." May it be said of you, as of dying men, that you are not men and women for this world, that you are crucified and dead to it, Gal. vi. 14. that you are strangers in it? Heb. xi. 13, 14. (4.) If you keep Christ's word, John xvii. 6. " Thine they were, and thou gavest " them me; and they have kept thy word." By keeping his word, understand the receiving of the word, in its sanctifying effects and influences into your hearts, and your perseverance in the profession and practice of it to the end, John xvii. 17. " Sanctify " them through thy truth, thy word is truth/1 John xv. 7. " If " ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what " ye will." Blessed and happy is that soul upon which these blessed characters appear, which our Lord Jesus hath laid so close together, within the compass of a few verses, in this xvii. chapter of John. These are the persons the Father delivered unto Christ, and he accepted from the Father, in this blessed covenant.

SERMON IV.

Opens the admirable love of God in giving his own Son

for us.

john iii. 16. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, &c.

JL OU have heard of the gracious purpose and design of God, to recover poor sinners to himself by Jesus Christ, and how this design of love was laid and contrived in the covenant of redemption, whereof we last spake.

Now, according to the terms of that covenant, you shall hear from this scripture, how that design was by one degree advanced towards its accomplishment, in God's actual giving or parting with his own Son for us: " God so loved the world, that he gave," $c.

The whole precedent context is spent in discovering the nature and necessity of regeneration, and the necessity thereof is in this

SERM. IV.

text urged and inferred from the peculiar respect and eye God had upon believers, in giving Christ for them; they only reaping all the special and saving benefits and advantages of that gift: " God " so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that u whosoever believeth in him should not perish." In the words are to be considered,

1. The original spring or fountain of our best mercies, the love of God. The love of God is, either benevolent, beneficent, or coraplacential. His benevolent love, is nothing else but his desire and purpose of saving, and doing us good ; so his purpose and grace to Jacob is called love, Rom. ix. 13. " Jacob have I loved ;" but this being before Jacob was, could consist in nothing else but the gracious purpose of God towards him. His beneficent love, is his actual doing good to the persons beloved, or his bestowing the effects of his love upon us, according to that purpose. His complex cential love, is nothing else but that delight and satisfaction he finds in beholding the fruits and workings of that grace in us, which he first intended for us, and then actually collated or bestowed on us. This love of benevolence, is that which I have opened to you, under the former head, God's compact with Christ about us, or his design to save us on the articles and terms therein specified.

The love of beneficence, is that which this scripture speaks of; out of this fountain Christ flowed to us, and both ran into that of complacency; for therefore he both purposed and actually bestowed Christ on us, that he might everlastingly delight in beholding the glory and praise of all this reflected on himself, by his redeemed ones. This then is the fountain of our mercies.

2. The mercy flowing out of this fountain, and that is Christ ; The mercy, as he is emphatically called, Luke i. 72. The marrow, kernel, and substance of all other mercies. He gave his* only begotten Son : This was the birth of that love, the like whereunto it never brought forth before, therefore it is expressed with a double emphasis in the text, the one is the particle htm so ; " he so loved the world ;" here is a sic without a sicut : How did he love it? Why, he so loved it; but how much, the tongues of angels cannot declare. And moreover, to enhance the mercy, lie is stiled his only begotten Son : to have given a Son had been wonderful ; but to give his only begotten Son, that is love inexpressible, unintelligible.

3. The objects of this love, or the persons to whom the eternal

* Hie igitur unigenili nomen. £/x^ar/X0 est ad probandam in nos amor's divini v?>em>'ntiam. i. e. This strong epithet, of only begotten, is given in order to heighten tho exceeding greatness of the love of God towards us. Balling, on this place.

Lord delivered Christ, and that is the [World.] This must respect the elect of God in the world, such as do, or shall actually believe, as it is exigetically expressed in the next words, " That " whosoever believes in him should not perish:" Those whom he calls the world in that, he stiles believers in this expression; and the word [World] is put to signify the elect, because they are scattered through all parts, and are among all ranks of men in the world; these are the objects of this love; it is not angels, but men, that were so loved; he is called p/Aavfywrog, a Lover, a Friend of Men, but never cpiXayfcXog, or piXoxlisog, the Lover or Friend of Angels, or creatures of another species.

4. The manner in which this never-enough celebrated mercy flows to us, from the fountain of divine love, and that is most freely and spontaneously. He gave, not he sold, or barely parted from, but gave. Nor yet doth the Father's giving imply Christ to be merely passive ; for as the Father is here said to give him, so the apostle tells us, Gal. ii. 20. That he gave himself, " who loved " me, and gave himself for me :" The Father gave him out of good will to men, and he as willingly bestowed himself ' on that service. Hence the note is,

Doct. That the gift of Christ is the highest and fullest nia?ii- Jestation of the love of God to sinners, that ever was made from eternity to them.

How is this gift of God to sinners signalized in that place of the apostle, 1 John iv. 10. " Herein is love; not that we loved God, u but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for " our sins?" Why doth the apostle so magnify this gift in saying, " Herein is love," as if there were love in nothing else! * May we not say, that to have a being, a being among the rational creatures, therein is love? To have our life carried so many years like a taper in the hand of Providence, through so many dangers, and not yet put out in obscurity, therein is love? To have food and raiment, convenient for us, beds to lie on, relations to comfort us, in all these is love? Yea, but if you speak comparatively, in all these there is no love, to the love expressed in sending or giving Christ for us: These are great mercies in themselves; but compared to this mercy, they are all swallowed up, as the light of candles when brought into the sun-shine. No, no, herein is love,

* God loves all his creatures : and among these he especially loves those he hath endowed with reason, and of those he loves more especially those who are members of the Only-begotten.. How much more the Only-begotten himself! Jag. T. 9. on John,

that God gave Christ for us. And it is remarkable, that when the apostle would shew us, in Rom. v. 8. what is the noblest fruit that most commends to men the root of divine love that bears it, he shews us this very fruit of it that I am now opening; " But " God, saith he, commendeth his love towards us, in that while " we were yet sinners, Christ died for us:" this is the very flower of that love.

The method into which I will cast this precious point, shall be this: (1.) To shew how Jesus Christ was given by the Father. (2.) How that gift is the fullest and richest manifestation of the love of God that was ever made to the world. (3.) And then draw forth the uses of it.

1. How was Jesus Christ given by the Father, and what is implied therein.

You are not so to understand it, as though God parted with his interest and property in his Son, when he is said to give him; he was as much his own as ever. When men give, they transfer property to another; but when God had given him, he was, I say, still as much his own as ever: but this giving of Christ implies,

(1.) His designation and appointment unto death for us; for so you read, that it was done " according to the determinate counsel " of God," Acts ii. 23. Look, as the Lamb under the Law was separated from the flock, and set appart for a sacrifice ; though it were still living, yet it was intentionally, and preparatively given, and consecrated to the Lord : so Jesus Christ was, by the counsel and purpose of God, thus chosen, and set apart for his service : and therefore in Isa. xlii. 1. God calls him his Elect, or chosen One.

(2.) His giving Christ, implies a parting with him, or setting him (as the French hath it) at some distance from himself for a time. There was a kind of parting betwixt the Father and the Son, when he came to tabernacle in our flesh: so he expresseth it, John xvi. 28. " I came forth from the Father, and am come " into the world ; again, I leave the world and go to the Father.'" This distance that this incarnation and humiliation set him at, was properly as to his humanity, which was really distant from the glory into which it is now taken up, and in respect of manifestation of delight and love, the Lord seemed to carry it as one at a distance from him. Oh ! this was it that so deeply pierced, and wounded his soul, as is evident from that complaint, Psal. xxii. 1, 2. " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? " Why art thou so far from the words of my roaring ? O my " God, I cry in the day-time, but thou nearest not," fyc.

(3.) God's giving of Christ, implies his delivering him into the hands of justice to be punished; even as condemned persons are,

by sentence of law, given or delivered into the hands of executioners. So Acts ii. 23. " Him, being delivered by the determinate " counsel of God, ye have taken, and by wicked hands have " slain:" and so he is said, Rom. viii. 32 " To deliver him up " to death for us all." The Lord, when the time was come that Christ must suffer, did, as it were, say, O all ye roaring waves of my incensed justice, now swell as high as heaven, and go over his soul and body; sink him to the bottom; let him go, like Jonah, his type, into the belly of hell, unto the roots of the mountains. Come all ye raging storms, that I have reserved for this day of wrath, beat upon him, beat him down, that he may not be able to look up, Psal. lx. 12. Go justice, put him upon the rack, torment him in every part, till all his u bones be out of joint, and his " heart within him be melted as wax in the midst of his bowels," Psal. xxii. 14. And ye assembly of the wicked Jews and Gentiles, that have so long gaped for his blood, now he is delivered into your hands; you are permitted to execute your malice to the full: I now loose your chain, and into your hand and power is he delivered.

(4.) God's giving of Christ, implies his application of him, with ^all the purchase of his blood, and settling all this upon us, as an inheritance and portion, John vi. 32, 33. " My Father giveth you " the true bread from heaven ; for the bread of God is he which " cometh down from heaven, and giveth light to the world." God hath giveth him as bread to poor starving creatures, that by faith they might eat and live. And so he told the Samaritaness, John iv. 10. " If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is " that saith unto thee, Give me to drink, thou wouldst have ask- " ed of him, and he would have given thee living water." Bread and water are the two necessaries for the support of natural life ; God hath given Christ, you see, to be all that, and more, to the spiritual life.

2. How this gift of Christ was the highest, and fullest manifestation of the love of God, that ever the world saw : * and this will be evidenced by the following particulars :

(1.) If you consider how near and dear Jesus Christ was to the Father ; he was his Son, " his only Son," saith the text ; the Son of his love, the darling of his Soul : His other Self, yea, one with himself; the express image of his person ; the brightness of his Father's Glory : In parting with him, he parted with his own

* God might have redeemed us in another way, (for I suppose it is opus liberi consiliij a free dispensation : but God so loved the world, i. e. he took this way, that we might love Christ as well as believe in him. He might have redeemed us so much in another way, but he could not oblige us so much in another way. Manton on Jude, p, 108, Mr. Wall in his None but Christ.

6ERM. IT.

heart, with his very bowels, as I may say. " Yet to us a Son is " given," Isa. ix. 6. and such a Son as he calls " his dear Son,"* Col. i. 13. A late writer tells us, that he hath been informed, that in the famine in Germany, a poor family being ready to perish with famine, the husband made a motion to the wife, to sell one of the children for bread, to relieve themselves and the rest: The wife at last consents it should be so; but then they began to think which of the four should be sold; and when the eldest was named, they both refused to part with that, being their first-born, and the beginning of their strength. Well, then they came to the second, but could not yield that he should be sold, being the very picture and lively image of his father. The third was named, but that also was a child that best resembled the mother. And when the youngest was thought on, that was the Benjamin, the child of their old age; and so were content rather to perish altogether in the famine, than to part with a child for relief. And you know how tenderly Jacob took it* when his Joseph and Benjamin were rent from him. What is a child, but a piece of the parent wrapt up in another skin? And yet our dearest children are but as Strangers to us, in comparison of the unspeakable dearness that

was betwixt the Father and Christ. Now, that he should

ever be content to part with a Son, and such an only One, is such a manifestation of love, as will be admired to all eternity. And then,

(2.) Let it be considered, To what he gave him, even to death, and that of the cross ; to be made a curse for us ; to be the scorn and contempt of men ; to the most unparalleled sufferings that ever were inflicted or borne by any. It melts our bowels, it breaks our heart, to behold our children striving in the pangs of death : but the Lord beheld his Son struggling under agonies that never any felt before him. * He saw him falling to the ground, groveling in the dust, sweating blood, and amidst those agonies turning himself to his Father, and, with a heart-rending cry, beseeching him, " Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass," Luke xxii. 42. To wrath, to the wrath, of an infinite God without mixture ; to the very torments of hell was Christ delivered, and that by the hand of his own Father. Sure then that love must needs want a name, which made the Father of mercies deliver his only Son to such miseries for us.

(3.) It is a special consideration to enhance the love of God in giving Christ, that in giving him he gave the richest jewel in his cabinet ; a mercy of the greatest worth, and most inestimable value, Heaven itself is not so valuable and precious as Christ is : He is the better half of heaven ; and so the saints account him, Psal. lxxiii.

* Christ's pain was sorer than all pains put together. Aquinas*

£5. " Whom have I in heaven but thee?" Ten thousand thousand worlds, saith one, * as many worlds as angels can number, and then as a new world of angels can multiply, would not all be the bulk of a balance, to weigh Christ's excellency, love, and sweetness. O what a fair One! what an only One! what an excellent, lovely* ravishing One, is Christ! Put the beauty often thousand paradises, like the garden of Eden, into one; put all trees, all flowers, all smells, all colours, all tastes, all joys, all sweetness, all loveliness in one; O what a fair and excellent thing would that be? And yet it should be less to that fair and dearest well-beloved Christ, than one drop of rain to the whole seas, rivers, lakes, and fountains of ten thousand earths. Christ is heaven's wonder, and earth's wonder.

Now, for God to bestow the mercy of mercies, the most precious thing in heaven or earth, upon poor sinners; and, as great, as lovely, as excellent as his Son was, yet not to account him too good to bestow upon us, what manner of love is this!

(4.) Once more, let it be considered on whom the Lord bestowed his Son : upon angels ? No, but upon men. Upon man his friend ? No, but upon his enemies. This is love ; and on this consideration the apostle lays a mighty weight, in Rom. v. 8, 9, 10* " But God (saith he) commendeth his love towards us, in that " while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us, — When we " were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his " Son." Who would part with a son for the sake of his dearest friends ? but God gave him to, and delivered him for enemies : O love unspeakable !

(5.) Lastly, Let us consider how freely this gift came from him : It was not wrested out of his hand by our importunity ; for we as little desired as deserved it : It was surprising, preventing, eternal love, that delivered him to us : " Not that we loved him, but he " first loved us," 1 John iv. 19. Thus as when you weigh a thing, you cast in weight after weight, till the scales break ; so doth God, one consideration upon another, to overcome our hearts* and make us admiringly to cry, what manner of love is this ! And thus I have shewed you what God's giving of Christ is, and what matchless love is manifested in that incomparable gift.

Next we shall apply this, in some practical corollaries.

Corollary 1. Learn hence, The exceeding preciousness of souls, and at what a high rate God values tliem, that he will give his Son, hitt only Son out of his bosom, as a ransomfor them. Surely this speaks their preciousness: God would not have parted with such a Son for small matters: all the world could not redeem them; gold and

silver could not be their ransom; so speaks the apostle, 1 Peter i. 18. " You were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver " and gold, but with the precious blood of Christ." Such an esteem God had for them, that rather than they should perish, Jesus Christ shall be made a man, yea, a curse for them. Oh then, learn to put a due value upon your own souls: do not sell that cheap, which God hath paid so dear for i Remember what a treasure you carry about you; the glory that you see in this world is not equivalent in worth to it. Matth. xvi. 26. " What shall a " man give in exchange for his soul?"

Corollary 2. If God has given his own Son for the world, then it follows, that those for whom God gave his own Son, may warrantably expect any other temporal merciesfrom him. This is the apostle's inference, Rom. viii. 32. " He that spared not his own Son, but " delivered him up for Us all; how shall he not* with him, free- " ty giye us aU things?" And so 1 Cor. iii. 21, 22. " All is yours, " for ye are Christ's." i. e. They hold all other things in Christ, who is the capital, and most comprehensive mercy.

To make out the grounds of this comfortable deduction, let these four things be pondered, and duly weighed in your thoughts. (1.) No other mercy you need or desire, is, or can be so dear to God, as Jesus Christ is: he never laid any other thing in his bosom as he did his Son. As for the world, and the comforts of it, it is the dust of his feet, he values it not; as you see by his providential disposals of it; having given it to the worst of men. " All the Turkish empire," saith Luther, " as great and glorious as it is, is but a crumb which the master of the family throws to the dogs.'" * Think upon any other outward enjoyment that is valuable in your eyes, and there is not so much comparison betwixt it and Christ, in the esteem of God, as is betwixt your dear children and the lumber of your houses, in your esteem. If then God has parted so freely from that which was infinitely dearer to him than these; how shall he deny these, when they may promote his glory, and your good? (2.) As Jesus Christ was nearer the heart of God than all these; so Christ is, in himself, much greater and more excellent than all of them: Ten thousand worlds, and the glory of them all, is but the dust of the balance, if weighed with Christ. These things are but poor creatures, but he is over all, God blessed for ever, Rom. ix. 5. They are common gifts, but he is the Gift of God, John iv. 10. They are ordinary mercies, but he is The mercy, Luke i. 72. As one pearl, or precious stone is greater in value than ten thousand common pebbles. Now, if

* Totum Turcicum imperium, quantum quantum est, mica tantwn est, quam fakr* familias projictt cfhibus. Luther.

God has so freely given the greater, how can you suppose he should deny the lesser, mercies? Will a man give to another a large inheritance, and stand with him for a trifle? how can it be? (3.) There is no other mercy you want, but you are entitled to it by the gift of Christ; it is, as to right, conveyed to you with Christ. So, in the fore-cited 1 Cor. iii. 21, 22, 23. " the world is yours, " yea, all is yours; for ye are Christ's.1' So 2 Cor. i. 20. " For " all the promises of God in Christ, in him they are yea, and in him, amen." With him he hath given you all things, g/g avoXavtiv, 1 Tim. vi. 17. rich!?/ to enjoy: the word signifies rem aliquam cum Icetttia percipere, to have the sweet relish and comfort of an enjoyment. So have we in all our mercies, upon the account of our title to them in Christ. (4.) Lastly, If God has given you this nearer, greater, and all-comprehending mercy, when you were enemies to him, and alienated from him; it is not imaginable he should deny you any inferior mercy, when you are come into a state of reconciliation and amity with him. So the apostle reasons, Rom. v. 8, 9, 10. " For if, when we were enemies, we were recon- " ciled to God, by the death of his Son; much more being recon- " ciled, we shall be saved by his life." And thus you have the second inference with its grounds.

Corollary 3. If the greatest love hath been manifested in giving Christ to the world, then it follows, that the greatest evil and wickedness is manifested in despising, slighting, and rejecting Christ. It is sad to abuse the love of God manifested in the lowest gift of providence; but, to slight the richest discoveries of it, even in that peerless gift, wherein God commends his love in the most taking and astonishing manner; this is sin with a witness. Blush, O heavens, and be astonished, O earth; yea, be ye horribly afraid! No guilt like this. The most flagitious wretches among the barbarous nations are innocent, in comparison of these. But, are there any such in the world? Dare any slight this gift of God? Indeed, if men s words might be taken, there are few or none that dare do so; but if their lives and practices may be believed, this, this is the sin of the far greater part of the christianized world. "Witness the lamentable stupidity and supineness >• witness the contempt of the gospel; witness the hatred and persecution of his image, laws and people. What is the language of all this, but a vile esteem of Jesus Christ?

And now, let me a little expostulate with those ungrateful souls, that trample under foot the Son of God, that value not this love that gave him forth. What is that mercy which you so contemn and undervalue? is it so vile and cheap a thing as your enter ainment speaks it to be? is it indeed worth no more than this in your eyes? Surely you will not be long of that opinion! Will you be of

ERM. IV. *THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE. *71

that mind, think you, when death and judgment shall have thoroughly awakened you! Oh, no: Then a thousand worlds for a Christ! as it is storied of our crooked-backed Itichard, when he lost the field, and was in great danger by his enemies that pressed upon him; Oh now, (said he) a kingdom for a horse! Or think ye, that any beside you in the world are of your mind? you are deceived, if you think so, " To them that believe he is precious," through all the world, 1 Pet. ii. 7. and in the other world they are of a quite contrary mind. Could you but hear what is said of him in heaven, in what a dialect the saved of the Lord do extol their Saviour; or could you but imagine the self-revenges, the selftorments, which the damned suffer for their folly, and what a value they would set upon one tender of Christ, if it might but again be hoped for; you would see that such as you are the only despisers of Christ.* Beside, methinks it is astonishing, that you should despise a mercy in which your own souls are so dearly, so deeply, so everlastingly concerned, as they are in this gift of God. If it were but the soul of another, nay, less, if but the body of another, and yet less than that, if but another's beast, whose life you could preserve, you are obliged to do it; but when it is thyself, yea, the best part of thyself, thine own invaluable soul, that thou ruinest and destroyest thereby, Oh, what a monster art thou, to cast it away thus! What! will you slight your own souls? care you not whether they be saved, or whether they be damned? is it indeed an indifferent thing with you which way they fall at death? have you imagined a tolerable hell? is it easy to perish? are you not only turned God's enemies, but your own too? Oh see what monsters sin can turn men and women into! Oh the stupifying, besotting, intoxicating power of sin! But perhaps you think that all these are but uncertain sounds, with which we alarm you; it may be thine own heart will preach such doctrine as this to thee: Who can assure thee of the reality of these things? why shouldest thou trouble thyself with an invisible world, or be so much concerned for what thine eyes never saw, nor didst ever receive the report from any that have seen them? Well, though we cannot now shew you these things, yet shortly they shall be shewn you; and your own eyes shall behold them. You are convinced and satisfied that many other things are real which you never saw: but be assured, That " if the word spoken by angels was stedfast, and " every transgression and disobedience received a just recompence

• Fy, fy, saith one, upon this condemned and foolish world, that will give so little for Christ and salvation : Oh ! if there were but a free market proclaimed of Christ and salvation in that day, when the trumpet of God shall awaken the dead, how many buyers would be there ? God send me no more happiness but that which the blind world (to their eternal woe) letteth slip through their fingers.

?3 THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE. 8ERM. V.

w of reward, how shall we escape, if we neglect so great a salva-, " tion, which at first began to be spoken to us by the Lord, and " was confirmed to us by them that heard him, God also bearing " them witness F" Heb. ii. % 3, 4. But if they be certain, yet they are not near; it will be a long time before they come. Poor soul! how dost thou cheat thyself? It maybe not by twenty parts so long a time as thy own fancy draws it forth for thee; thou art not certain of the next moment.

And suppose what thou imaginest: What are twenty or forty years when they are past? yea, what are a thousand years to vast eternity? Go trifle away a few days more, sleep out a few nights more, and then lie down in the dust; it will not be long ere the trump of God shall awaken thee, and thine eyes shall behold Jesus coming in the clouds of heaven, and then you will know the price of this sin. Oh, therefore, if there be any sense of eternity upon you, any pity or love for yourselves in you; if you have any concernments more than the beasts that perish, despise not your own offered mercies, slight not the richest gift that ever was yet opened to the world; and a sweeter cannot be opened to all eternity.

SERMON V.

Of Christ's wonderful Person.

John i. 14. And the Word was made Flesh, and dwelt among us, &c.

jL OU have heard the covenant of redemption opened. The work therein propounded by the Father, and consented to by the Son, is such as infinitely exceeds the power of any mere creature to perform. He that undertakes to satisfy God, by obedience for man's sin, must himself be God; and he that performs such a perfect obedience, by doing, and suffering all that the law required, in our room, must be man. These two natures must be united in one person, else there could not be a concourse or co-operation of either nature in his mediatory works. How these natures are united, in the wonderful person of our Immanuel, is the first part of the great mystery of godliness:* a subject studied

* The incarnation is the miracle of miracles ; a testimony against unbelievers. Isa. yii. 14. and a document to believers. None can declare his generation, Isa. liii. 8. Neither can any declare his incarnation, his name is secret, Judges xiii. 18. Won-

SERM. V. THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE. 1$

and adored by angels! and the mystery thereof is wrapped up in this text. Wherein we have,

First, The incarnation of the Son of God plainly asserted.

Secondly, That assertion strongly confirmed.

(1.) In the assertion we have three parts.

1. The Person assuming', AoXog, the Word,* i. e. the second Person or Subsistent in the most glorious Godhead, called the Word, either because he is the scope or principal matter, both of the prophetical and promissory word; or because he expounds and reveals the mind and will of God to men, as verse 18. The only-begotten Son which is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared or expounded him.

2. The Nature assumed, <rfg, Flesh, i. e. the entire human nature, consisting of a true human soul and body. For so this word cafe, in Rom. iii. 20. and the Hebrew word *iwz which answers to it, by an usual Metcmomy of a part for the whole, is used, Gen. vi. 12. And the word Flesh is rather used here, than Man, on purpose to enhance the admirable condescension and abasement of Christ; there being more of vileness, weakness, and opposition to spirit in this word, than in that, as is pertinently noted by gome. Hence the whole nature is denominated by that part, and galled flesh.

3. The assumption itself, sXsi/sro, he was made ; not fiiit, he was, (as Socinus would render it, designing thereby to overthrow the existence of Christ's glorified body now in heaven) but factus est, it was made, i. e. he took or assumed the true human nature (called flesh,-)* for the reason before rendered) into the unity of his divine person, with all its integral parts and essential properties ; and so was made, or became a true and real man, by that assumption. The apostle speaking of the same act, Heb. ii. 16. uses another word, He took on him, sw/Xa/x/3ai/sra/, fitly rendered he took on him, or he assumed ; which assuming, though inchoative, it was the work of the whole Trinity, God the Father, in the Son, by \he Spirit, forming or creating that nature; as if three sisters should make a garment betwixt them, which only one of them wears : yet, terminatiye, it was the act of the Son only : it was he

derful, Isa. ix. 6. A name that no man knoweth, viz. perfectly, but himself. The Trinity is the greatest, the incarnation the next mystery. Norton's Orthodox Evangelist, p. 58.

* Word, a real substance, or person ; and not a word, spoken or uttered. Fulgent. Book I.

f The Evangelist chose to use the word, Flesh, instead of Man, that it might the more appear how far the Word that was God, humbled himself, when he was made Flesh. For there is manifestly more of Vileness, and greater opposition to Spirit implied in the word Flesh than in the word Man. Maccovius's Common Places

only that was made flesh. And when it is said, he was made flesh, misconceive not, as if there was a mutation of the Godhead into flesh; for this was performed, * " not by changing what he was, " but by assuming what he was not," as Augustine well expresseth it. As when the scripture, in a like expression, saith, " He was " made sin," 2 Cor. v. 21. and made a curse, Gal. hi. 13. the meaning is not, that he was turned into sin, or into a curse; no more may we think here the Godhead was turned into flesh, and lost its own being and nature, because it is said he was made flesh. This is the sum of the assertion.

(2.) This assertion [" that the word was made flesh,""] is strongly confirmed. He " dwelt among us," and we saw his glory. This was no phantasm, but a most real and indubitable thing. For, i*%7}W(to> sv ru'.uv, pitched his tent, or tabernacled with us. And we are eve- witnesses of it. Parallel to that, 1 John i. 1, % 3. " That " which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we " have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our " hands have handled, of the Word of life, SfC declare we unto i( you." Hence note,

Doct. That Jesus Christ did really assume the true and perfect nature of man, into a personal union with his divine nature, and still remains true God, and true mem, in one person for ever.

The proposition contains one of the deepest mysteries of godliness, f 1 Tim. iii. 16. A mystery? by which apprehension is dazzled, invention astonished, and all expression swallowed up. If ever the tongues of angels were desirable to explicate any word of God, they are so here. Great is the interest of words in this doctrine. We walk upon the brink of danger. The least tread awry may ingulph us in the bogs of error. Alius would have been content, if the council of Nice would but have gratified him in a letter, o/xor/o5, and c/mi&io;. The Nestorians also desired but a letter, Gicboy^o;, ^ioroy.cg. These seemed but small and modest requests, but, if granted, had proved no small prejudice to Jesus Christ, and his truths. I desire therefore the reader would, with greatest

* iVon. mutando quod erat, ssd assumendo, quod no7i erat. Aug. f The incarnation is God's work, whereby the Son of God, (according to the oeconomy of the divine counsel of the Father, of the Son, and of the holy Spirit) humbling and abasing himself, took from the Virgin Mary, by the power and efficacy of the holy Spirit upon her ; real, entire, perfect, holy Flesh ; yet so as that that Flesh had no proper subsistence without the Son of God, but was really borne and carried about by him ; the two entire natures being united among themselves, without any change of the one into the other, without confusion, without division, and inseparably, fyc. Whence is constituted the person of Christ, God- man.- • Synapsis purioris Thea.

SEEM. V,

THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE. *75

attention of mind, apply himself to these truths. It is a doctrine hard to understand, and dangerous to mistake. I am really of his mind that said,* * It is better not touch the bottom, than not 6 keep within the circle i1 Melius est nescire centrum, quam non tenere circulum. He did assume a true human body; that is plainly asserted, Phil. ii. 7, 8, SfC. Heb. ii. 14, 16. In one place it is called taking on him the seed of Abraham, and in the text, flesh. He did also assume a true human soul, this is undeniable by its operations, passions, and expiration at last, Matth. xxvi. 38. and xxvii. 50. And that both these natures make but one person, is as evident from Rom. i. 3, 4, " Jesus Christ was made of the seed " of David according to the flesh, and declared to be the Son of f< God with power, according to the Spirit of holiness, by the re- " surrection from the dead." So Rom. ix. 5. " Of whom, as " concerning the flesh, Christ came, who is over all, God blessed " for ever. Amen.1'* But that you may have a sound and clear understanding of this mystery, I will (1.) Open the nature; (2.) The effects; and (3.) The reasons or ends of this wonderful union.

First, The nature of this union. There are j,j na+ure 0f

three illustrious and dazzhng unions in scrip- ^ liypostaticil ture: that or three persons m one God, lessen- . *j ■,

tially. That of two distinct natures, and per- ' ' ^ sons; by one spirit Mystically: and this of two distinct natures in one person, Hypostatically. This is my task to open at this time: and, for the more distinct and perspicuous management thereof, I shall speak to it both negatively and positively.

1. Negatively. Think not when Christ as- * r , consubsumed our nature, that it was united consubstan- . .. ™ tially, so as the three persons in the Godhead are *"

united among themselves. They all have but one and the same nature and will; but in Christ are two distinct natures and wills, though but one person.

% Nor yet that they are united Physically, at Not , kall soul and body are united in one person ; tor death * ° **

actually dissolves that; but this is indissoluble. So that when his soul expired, and his body was interred, both soul and body were still united to the second person as much as ever.

3. Nor yet is it such a mystical union, as is between , r , .

Christ and believers. Indeed that is a glorious ™ ^"

* Reason (saith one) can never shew itself more reasonable, than in ceasing to reason about things which are above reason. Whatsoever is concealed from us, that we are not to pry into. But we are not to overlook what is plain and manifest. Prosper,

union; but though believers are said to be in Christ, and Christ in them, yet they are not one person with him. They are not christed into Christ, or godded into God, as blasphemous Familists speak.

Secondly, Positively. But this assumption of which I speak, is that whereby the second Person in the Godhead did take the human nature into a personal union with himself, by virtue whereof the manhood subsists in the second person, yet without confusion, both making but one person, Qewfywros, or Itnmanuel, God with us.

So that though we truly ascribe a two-fold nature to Christ, yet not a double person; * for the human nature of Christ never subsisted separately and distinctly, by any personal subsistence of its own, as it doth in all other men, but from the first moment of conception, subsisted in union with the second person.

To explicate this mystery more particularly, let it be considered ;

First, The human nature was united to the second person miraculously and extraordinarily, being supernaturally framed in the womb of the Virgin, by the over-shadowing power of the Highest, Luke i. 34, 35. By reason whereof it may truly and properly be said to be the fruit of the womb, not of the loins of men, nor by man. And this was necessary to exempt the assumed nature from the stain and pollution of Adam's sin, which it wholly escaped; inasmuch as he received it not, as ail others do, in the way of ordinary generation, wherein original sin is propagated: but this being extraordinarily produced,, was a most pure and holy thing, Luke i. 35. And indeed this perfect shining holiness, in which it was produced, was absolutely necessary, both in order to its union with the divine Person, and the design of that union; which was both to satisfy for, and to sanctify us. The two natures could not be conjoined in the person of Chirst, had there been the least taint of sin upon the human nature. For God can have no fellowship with sin, much less be united to it. Or, supposing such a conjunction with our sinful nature, yet he being a sinner himself, could never satisfy for the sins of others; nor could any unholy thing ever make us holy. " Such an High-priest therefore became us " as is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners," Heb. vii. 26. And such an one he must needs be, whom the Holy Ghost produces in such a peculiar way, to aytov, that holy thing.

Secondly, As it was produced miraculously, so it was assumed integrally ; that is to say, Christ took a complete and perfect human

• The human nature is not, ioio6\j6tcc1gs subsisting of itself, nor did the human nature exist before it was assumed ; but so soon as the flesh existed, it was the flesh of the Word of God. And so the person of Christ is one, in which there are two distinct tilings, but not two distinct persons, Greg. Naz. in Theodoret, Dialogue 2.

*ERM. V. THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE, W

soul and body, with all and every faculty and member pertaining to it. And this was necessary (as both * Austin and -f- Fulgentius have well observed) that thereby he might heal the whole nature of that leprosy of sin, which hath seized and infected every member and faculty. Tlavra, avsXufSsv iva ifavra ayia^. " He assumed " all, to sanctify all;" as Damascen expresseth it. He designed a perfect recovery, by sanctifying us wholly in soul, body, and spirit; and therefore assumed the whole in order to it.

Thirdly, He assumed our nature, as with all its integral parts, so with all its sinless infirmities. And therefore it is said of him, Heb. ii. 17. " That it behoved him," xara <rr<xvra ofj,otu$Y}vcu, according to all things (that is, all things natural, not formally sinful, J as it is limited by the same apostle, Heb. iv. 15.) to be made like unto his brethren. But here our divines so carefully distinguish infirmities into personal and natural Personal infirmities are such as befal particular persons, from particular causes, such as dumbness, blindness, lameness, leprosies, monstrosities, and other deformities. These it was no way necessary that Christ should, nor did he at all assume; but the natural ones, such as hunger, thirst, weariness, sweating, bleeding, mortality, fyc. which though they are not in themselves formally and intrinsically sinful; yet are they the effects and consequents of sin. They are so many marks, that sin hath left of itself upon our natures. And on that account Christ is said to be sent " in the likeness of sinful flesh," Rom. viii. 3. Wherein the gracious condescension of Christ for us is marvellously signalized, that he would not assume our innocent nature, as it was in Adam before the fall, while it stood in all its primitive glory and perfection; but after sin had quite defaced, ruined, and spoiled it.

Fourthly, The human nature is so united with the divine, as that each nature still retains its own essential properties distinct. § And this distinction is not, nor can be lost by that union. So that

* Aug. de Civit, Dei. lib. 10. cap. 27. p. 586.

f Fulgent, ad Tra 1. 1. p. 251. Damasc. lib. 3. cap. 20.

j The natural pollution and original defilement of sin, which cleaves to human nature in general, could not infect the human nature of Christ, because the Holy Spirit, according to his own manner of working, had made it absolutely undefiled and impeccable, or, incapable of committing sin i and such a perfect and sinless nature it behoved to be, in which our sins, with their defilement and guilt, were to be done away. Trel. Instit. p. 58.

§ By this union of the human with the divine nature, the human nature is not raised to the same perfection with the divine, nor changed into it, nor confounded with it; as if what is any way peculiar to the divine, were communicated to the human nature: but that the one always did, and doth, remain totally distinct from the other; the human, to wit, consisting of a finite body, and of a soul, the same, as to substance and essential powers, with other men's. JBradshaw on Justificatim, p. 79.

the two understandings, wills, powers, tyc. viz. The divine and human, are not confounded; but a line of distinction runs betwixt them still in this wonderful person. It was the heresy of the Eutychians, condemned by the council of Chalcedon, to affirm, that there was no distinction betwixt the two natures in Christ. Against whom that council determined, that they were united aguvo^vruc, without any immutation or confusion.

Fifthly, The union of the two natures in Christ, as an insepara* hie union; so that from the first moment thereof, there never was, nor to eternity shall be, any separation of them.

Doubt. If you ask how the union remained betwixt them, when Christ's human soul and body were separated from each other upon the cross? Is not death the dissolution of the union betwixt soul and body?

Resolution. True, the natural union betwixt his soul and body was dissolved by death for a time, but this hypostatical union remained even then as entire and firm as ever: for, though his soul and body were divided from each other, yet neither of them from the divine nature. Divines assist our conception of this mystery, by an apt illustration.* A man that holds in his hand a sword sheathed, when he pleaseth, draws forth the sword; but still holds that in one hand, and the sheath in the other, and then sheaths it again, still holding it in his hand: so when Christ died, his soul and body retained their union with the divine nature, though not (during that space) one with another.

And thus you are to form and regulate your conceptions of this great mystery. Some adumbrations and imperfect similitudes of it may be found in nature. Among which some -f- commend that union which the soul and body have with each other; they are of different natures, yet both make one individual man. Others J find fault with this, because both these united make but one complete human nature; whereas, in Chrisfs person, there are two natures, and commend to us a more perfect emblem, viz. That of the Cyon and the tree or stock, which have two natures, yet make but one tree. But then we must remember that the Cyon wants a root of its own, which is an integral part, but Christ assumed our nature integrally. This defect is by others § supplied in the Mi-

* Tollehis gives us a fine illustration of it ; " Even as a man, (says he) holding a " sword sheathed, when he pleaseth, draws forth the sword ; but still holds that in " one hand, and the sheath in the other, [and then sheaths it again, still holding " it in his hand :] so the Divine Person separated the soul from the human body, " as it were a sword drawn out of its sheath, but still he held both united to him- " self; but by the resurrection he re-joined the soul to the body, as when one " puts the sword in the scabbard."

f Justin Martyr. \ Alex. Alex. § Roberts of the covenant.

sletoe and the Oak, which have different natures; and the Misletoe subsists in union with the Oak, still retaining the difference of nature; and though making but one tree, yet bears different fruits. And so much to the first thing, namely, the nature of this union. Secondly, For the effects, or immediate results,™ j, •. .

of this marvellous union, let these three be well, , ,. 7 J. considered. hypostahcalumon.

1. The two natures being thus united in the person of the Mediator, by virtue whereof the properties of each nature are attributed, and do truly agree in the whole person ; so that it is proper to say, the Lord of glory was crucified, 1 Cor. ii. 8. and the blood of God redeemed the Church, Acts xx. 28. that Christ was both in heaven, and in the earth at the same time, John iii. 13.

Yet we do not believe that one nature doth transfuse or impart its properties to the other, * or that it is proper to say the divine nature suffered, bled, or died; or the human is omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent; but that the properties of both natures, are so ascribed to the person, that it is proper to affirm any of them of him in the concrete, though not abstractly. The right understanding of this would greatly assist, in teaching the true sense of the forenamed, and many other dark passages in the scriptures.

2. Another fruit of this hypostatical union, is the singular advancement of the human nature in Christ, far beyond and above what it is capable of in any other person, -f- it being hereby replenished and filled with an unparalleled measure of divine graces and excellencies ; in which respect he is said to be " anointed above, or before his fellows," Psal. xiv. 8. and so becomes the object of adoration and divine worship, Acts vii. 59. This the Socinians oppugn with this argument : He that is worshipped with a divine worship, as he is Mediator, is not so worshipped as God ; but Christ is worshipped as Mediator. But we say, that to be worshipped as Mediator, and as God, are not opposite, but the one is necessarily included in the other; and therein is further included the ratio

formalis sub qua I of thdt divine religious worship.

3. Hence, in the last place, follows, as another excellent fruit

* The properties of both natures maybe attributed to the whole person of Christ, ia the concrete ; the Son of man, who is a Person consisting of two natures, is everywhere present, is eternal, is adorable, that is, he is to be adored according to his divine nature, to which these properties (of omnipresence, eternity, praise-worthiness) are applicable : we adore indeed the Deity incarnate, but the Divinity itself is the only perfect object of our worship.

f Tbe human nature being thus assumed above all other created natures, is, by virtue of this assumption, lifted up to the highest possible pitch of dignity; Heb. i. 4, 5? 6. B>-adskaiu on Justification, p. 79.

J The formal ground upon which the worship of Christ, as Mediator, is founded.

of this union, The concourse and co-operation of each nature to his mediatory works; for in them he acts according to both natures: the human nature doing what is human, viz. suffering, sweating, bleeding, dying; and his divine nature stamping all these with infinite value; and so both sweetly concur unto one glorious work and design of mediation. Papists generally deny that he performs any of these mediatory works as God, but only as man; but how boldly do they therein contradict these plain scriptures? See 2 Cor. v. 10. Heb. ix. 14, 15. And so much as to the second thing propounded, viz. the fruits of this union.

Thirdly, The last thing to be opened is the grounds and reasons

m, „ of this assumption. And we may say, touching

Ihe reasons oj ^ nj That the human nature was not asthe hypostaticalu- gumed ^ any intrinsical perfection of the Godhead, not to make that human nature itself perfect. The divine did not assume the human nature necessarily^ but voluntarily; not out of indigence, but bounty; not because it was to be perfected by it, but to perfect it, by causing it to lie as a pipe, to the infinite all-filling fountain of grace and glory, of which it is the great receptacle. And so, consequently, to qualify and prepare him for a full discharge of his mediatorship, in the offices of our Prophet, Priest, and King. Had he not this double nature in the unity of his person, he could not have been our Prophet: For, as God, he knows the mind and will of God, John i. 18. and hi. 13. and as man he is fitted to impart it suitably to us, Deut. xviii. 15, 16, 17, 18. compared with Acts xx. 22.

As Priest, had he not been man, he could have shed no blood; and if not God, it had been no adequate value for us, * Heb. iL 17. Acts iii. 28.

As King, had he not been man, he had been an heterogeneous, and so no fit head for us. And if not God, he could neither rule nor defend his body the Church.

These then were the designs and ends of that assumption.

Use 1. Let all Christians rightly inform their minds in this truth of so great concerment in religion, and hold it Just against all subtle adversaries, that would wrest it from them. The learned Hooker observes, that the dividing of Christ's person, which is but one, and the confounding of his natures, which are two, hath been the occasion of those errors, which have so greatly disturbed the peace of the church. The Arians denied his deity, levelling him with

* He made satisfaction in his human nature ; but then the worth, the excellency, efficacy and application of that satisfaction flow from the divine nature. Ames, Bell. Mnerv. lib. 5.

other mere men. The Apollinarians maimed his humanity. The Sabellians affirmed, that the Father and Holy Ghost were incarnated as well as the Son; and were forced, upon that absurdity, by another error, viz. denying the three distinct persons in the Godhead, and affirming they were but three names. The Eutychians confounded both natures in Christ, denying any distinction of them. The Seleusians affirmed, that he unclothed himself of his humanity when he ascended, and hath no human body in heaven. The Nestorians so rent the two names of Christ asunder, as to make two distinct persons of them.

But ye (beloved) have not so learned Christ. Ye know he is, (1.) True and very God; (2.) True and very man; that, (3.) these two natures make but one person, being united inseparably; (4.) that they are not confounded or swallowed up one in another, but remain still distinct in the person of Christ. Hold ye the sound words which cannot be condemned. Great things hang upon all these truths* O suffer not a stone to be loosed out of the foundation.

Use 2. Adore the love of the Father; and the Son, who bid so high for your souls, and at this rate were contented you shoidd be recovered.

1. The love of the Father is herein admirably conspicuous, who so vehemently willed our salvation, that he was content to degrade the darling of his soul to so vile and contemptible a state, which was, upon the matter, an undoing to him, in point of reputation; as the apostle intimates, Phil. ii. 7. If two persons be at a variance, and the superior, who also is the wronged person, begin to stoop first, and say, you have deeply wronged me, yea, your blood is not able to repair the wrongs you have done me : however, such is my love to you, and willingness to be at peace with you, that I will part with what is most dear to me in all the World, for peace-sake ; yea, though I stoop below myself, and seem, as it were, to forget my own relation and endearments to my own son, I will not suffer such a breach betwixt me and you. John iii. 16. " God so loved " the world, that he gave his only begotten Son."

2. And how astonishing is the love of Christ, that would make such a stoop as this to exalt us ! * Oh, it is ravishing to think, he should pass by a more excellent and noble species of creatures, refusing the angelic nature, Heb. ii. 16. to take flesh ; and not to solace and disport himself in it neither, nor experience sensitive pleasures in the body ; for, as he needed them not, being at the fountain-head of the highest joys, so it was not at all in his design,

* No body raises another lying low, without first stooping down, and bowing himself to the ground. Nierom,

but the very contrary, even to make himself a subject capable of sorrows, wounds, and tears. * It was, as the apostle elegantly expressed! it, in Heb. h. 9- o<rw; u*^ rsavrog yzv<rr,Ta,i Qavccrz; that he might sensibly taste what relish death hath, and what bitterness is in those pangs and agonies. Now, 01 1 that you would get your hearts suitably impressed and affected with these high impressures of the love both of the Father and the Son! How is the courage of some noble Romans celebrated in history, for the brave adventures they made for the commonwealth; but they could never stoop as Christ did, being so infinitely below him in personal dignity.

Use 3. And here infinite wisdom has also left a famous and everlasting mark of itself; which invites, yea, even chains the eyes of angels and men to itself, -f* Had there been a general council of angels, to advise upon a way of recovering poor sinners* they would all have been at an everlasting demur and loss about it. It could not have entered their thoughts, (though they are intelligencers, and more sagacious creatures) that ever mercy, pardon, and grace, should find such a way as this to issue forth from the heart of God to the hearts of sinners. Oh, how wisely is the method of our recovery laid! so that Christ may be well called, " the " power and wisdom of God," 1 Cor. i. 24 ; forasmuch as in him the divine wisdom is more glorified than in all the other works of God, upon which he hath impressed it. Hence it is, that some of the schoolmen affirm, (though I confess myself unsatisfied with it) that the incarnation of Christ was in itself so glorious a demonstration of God's wisdom and power, and thereupon so desirable in itself, that though man had not sinned, yet Christ would have been made man.

Use 4. Hence also we infer the incomparable sweetness of the Christian religion, that shews poor sinners such a fair t foundation to rest their trembling consciences upon. While poor distressed souls look to themselves, they are perpetually puzzled. That is the cry of a distressed natural conscience, Micah vi. 6. " Wherewith shall I u come before the Lord?" the Hebrew is mrv enpx how shall I prevent or anticipate the Lord? J and so Montanus renders

* The Son of God therefore took flesh, that he might be capable of suffering in human nature, which he could not have done in the Divine, which is incapable of suffering. Theod.

•f- It must surpass human, or even angelical understandings, to conceive, or, if conceived, to hope for such a deliverer : wherefore, if a sinner, sensible of the divine malediction due to his sins, were left to himself, by searching to find out such relief, the more he laboured in the search, the more would he throw himself headlong into a boundless abyss of horror and desperation. Bradshaw on Justification, p. 74.

| [Ju-dom] Antivertit, anticipavit, obvenit. Buxlorf.

it, in quo prceoccupabo Dominum? Conscience sees God arming himself with wrath, to avenge himself for sin; cries out, Oh, how shall I prevent him; if he would accept the fruit of m\ hody, (those dear pledges of nature,) for the sin of my soul, he should have them. But now we see God coming down in flesh, and so intimately united our flesh to himself, that it hath no proper subsistence of its own, but is united with the divine person: hence it is easy to imagine what worth and value must be in that blood; and how eternal love, springing forth triumjmantly from it, flourishes into pardon, grace, and peace* Here is a way in which the sinner may see justice and mercy kissing each other, and the latter exercised freely, without prejudice to the former. All other consciences, through the world, lie either in a deep sleep in the devil's arms* or else are rolling (sea sick) upon the waves of their own fears and dismal presages. Oh, happy are they that have dropped anchor on this ground, and not only know they have peace, but why they have it!

Use 5. Of how great concernment is it, that Christ should have anion with our particular persons, as well as with our common nature? For by this union with our nature alone, never any man was, or can be saved. Yea, let me add, that this union with our natures, is utterly in vain to you, and will do you no good, except he have union with your persons by faith also. It is indeed infinite mercy, that God is come so near you, as to dwell in your flesh; and that he hath fixed upon such an excellent method to save poor sinners. And hath he done all this? is he indeed come home, even to your own doors, to seek peace? doth he vail his unsupportable glory under flesh, that he might treat the more familiarly? and yet do you refuse him* and shut your hearts against him? then hear one word, and let thine ears tingle at the sound of it: Thy sin is hereby aggravated beyond the sin of devils, who never sinned against a mediator in their own nature; who never despised, or refused, because indeed, they were never offered terms of mercy, as you are.

And I doubt not but the devils themselves, who now tempt you to reject, will, to all eternity, upbraid your folly for rejecting this great salvation, which in this excellent way is brought down, even to your own doors.

Use 6. If Jesus Christ has assumed our nature, then he is sensibly touched with the infirmities that attend it, and so hath pity and compassion for us, under all our burdens. And indeed this was one end of his assuming it, that he might be able to have compassion on us, as you read, Heb. ii. 17, 18. "Wherefore in all things it be- " hoved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he might be * a merciful and faithful High-priest, in things pertaining to God,,

84) THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE. SERM. V.

" to make reconciliation for the sins of the people. For in that he " himself hath suffered, being tempted, he is able to succour them " that are tempted." O what a comfort is this to us, that he who is our High-Priest in heaven, hath our nature on him, to enable him to take compassion on us!

Use 7. Hence we see, to what a height God intends to build up the happiness of man, in that he hath laid the foundation thereof so deep, in the incarnation of his own Son.

They that intend to build high, use to lay the foundation low. The happiness and glory of our bodies, as well as souls, are founded in Christ's taking our flesh upon him: for, therein, as in a.model or pattern, God intended to shew what in time he resolves to make of our bodies; for he will ft^aay^an^m, transform our vile bodies, and make them one day conformable to the glorious body of Jesus Christ, Phil. hi. 81. This flesh was therefore assumed by Christ, that in it might be shewn, as in a pattern, how God intends to honour and exalt it. And indeed, a greater honour cannot be done to the nature of man, than what is already done, by this grace of union; nor are our persons capable of higher glory, than what consists in their conformity to this glorious head. Indeed the flesh of Christ will ever have a distinct glory from ours in heaven, by reason of this union; for being the body which the Word assumed, it is two ways advanced singularly above the flesh and blood of all other men, viz. subjectively, and objectively: Subjectively, it is the flesh and blood of God, Acts xx. 28. and so hath a distinct and incommunicable glory of its own. And objectively, it is the flesh and blood which all the angels and saints adore. But though in these things it be supereminently exalted, yet it is both the medium and pattern of all that glory which God designs to raise us to.

Use 8. Lastly, How wonderful a comfort is it, that he who dwells in our flesh is God? What joy may not a poor believer make out of this? what comfort one made out of it> I will give you in his own words, " t see it a work of God, (saith he) that experiences are " all lost, when summonses of improbation3 to prove our charters <c of Christ to be counterfeit, are raised against poor souls in their " heavy trials. But let me be a sinner, and worse than the chief " of sinners, yea, a guilty devil, I am sure my well-beloved is " God, and my Christ is God. And when I say my Christ is a God, I have said all things, I can say no more. I would I " could build as much on this, My Christ is God, as it would bear: " I might lay all the world upon it"

God and man in one person! Oh! thrice happy conjunction! As man, he is full of experimental sense of our infirmities, wants, and burdens; and, as God, he can support and supply them all.