III. They shall lose all things that are comfortable, as well as heaven
and profits, and honours, and thought on him as often, and sought him as painfully, O how happy had I now been! But justly do I suffer the flames of hell, who would rather buy them so dear, than have heaven on free-cost, when it was purchased to my hands.'
Thus I have showed you some of those thoughts which will aggravate the misery of these wretches for ever. O that God would persuade thee, who readest these words, to take up these thoughts now seasonably and soberly, for the preventing of that inconceivable calamity, that so thou mayst not be forced, in despite of thee, to take them up in hell as thy own tormentor.
It may be some of these hardened wretches will jest at all this, and say, 'How know you what thoughts the damned in hell will have?'
Answ. First: Why read but the 16th of Luke, and you shall there find some of their thoughts mentioned.
Secondly: I know their understanding will not be taken from them, nor their conscience, nor passions. As the joys of heaven are chiefly enjoyed by the rational soul, in its rational actions, so also must the pains of hell be suffered. As they will be men still, so will they act as men.
Thirdly: Besides, Scripture hath plainly foretold us as much, that their own thoughts shall accuse them, (Rom. 2:15,) and their hearts condemn them; (1 John 3:19–21;) and we see it begun in despairing persons here.
CHAP. III
They shall lose all things that are comfortable, as well as Heaven.
SECT. I. Having showed you those considerations which will then aggravate their misery, I am next to show you their additional losses
which will aggravate it. For as godliness hath the promise both of this life and that which is to come, and as God hath said, "that if we first seek his kingdom and righteousness, all things else shall be added to us;" so also are the ungodly threatened with the loss both of spiritual and of corporal blessings; and because they sought not first Christ's kingdom and righteousness, therefore shall they lose both it and that which they did seek, and there shall be taken from them even that little which they have. If they could but have kept their present enjoyments, they would not have much cared for the loss of heaven, let them take it that have more mind of it: but catching at the shadow, and losing the substance, they now find that they have lost both; and that when they rejected Christ, they rejected all things. If they had lost and forsaken all for Christ, they would have found all again in him; for he would have been all in all to them; but now they have forsaken Christ for other things, they shall lose Christ, and that also for which they did forsake him.
But I will particularly open to you some of their other losses.
Sect. II. First: They shall lose their present presumptuous conceit and belief of their interest in God, and of his favour towards them, and of their part in the merits and sufferings of Christ. This false belief doth now support their spirits, and defend them from the terrors that would else seize upon them, and fortify them against the fears of the wrath to come. Even as true faith doth afford the soul a true and grounded support and consolation, and enableth us to look to eternity with undaunted courage; so also a false ungrounded faith doth afford a false ungrounded comfort, and abates the trouble of the considerations of judgment and damnation. But, alas! this is but a palliate salve, a deceitful comfort; what will ease their trouble when this is gone? When they can believe no longer, they will be quieted in mind no longer, and rejoice no longer. If a man be near to the greatest mischief, and yet strongly conceit that he is in safety, his conceit may make him as cheerful as if all were well indeed, till his misery comes, and then both his conceit and comforts vanish. An ungrounded persuasion of happiness, is a poor cure for real misery.
When the mischief comes, it will cure the misbelief; but that belief can neither prevent nor cure the mischief. If there were no more to make a man happy, but to believe he is so, or shall be so, happiness would be far commoner than now it is likely to be. It is a wonder that any man who is not a stranger both to Gospel and reason, should be of the Antinomian faith in this; who tell us, that faith is but the believing that God loveth us, and that our sins are already pardoned through Christ; that this is the chief thing that ministers should preach; that our ministers preach not Christ, because they preach not this; that every man ought thus to believe, but no man to question this faith, whether he believe truly or not, &c. But if all men must believe that their sins are pardoned, then most of the world must believe a lie; and if no man ought not to question the truth of his faith, then most men shall rest deluded with an ungrounded belief.
The Scripture commandeth us first to believe for a remission of sins, before we believe that our sins are remitted. If we believe in Christ, that is, accept him cordially for our Saviour, and our King, then we shall receive the pardon of sins. The truth is, we have more ado to preach down this Antinomian faith, than they have to preach it up; and to preach our people from such a believing, than they have to preach them to it. I see no need to persuade people to believe; the generality are strong and confident in such a belief already. Take a congregation of five thousand persons, and how few among them all will you find, that do not believe that their sins are pardoned, and that God loves them; especially of the vilest sinners, who have least cause to believe it! Indeed, as it is all the work of those men to persuade people to this belief, so it is the hardest task almost that we meet with, to convince men of the ungroundedness of this belief, and to break that peace which Satan maintaineth in their souls. Neither do I know a commoner cause of men's destruction, than such a misbelief. Who will seek for that which he believes he hath already?
This is the great engine of hell, to make men go merrily to their own perdition. I know men cannot believe Christ, or believe in or upon Christ, either too soon or too much. But they may believe or judge that themselves are pardoned, adopted, and in favour with God, too soon, and too much: for a false judgment is always too much and too
soon. As true grounded faith is the master-grace in the regenerate, and of the greatest use in the kingdon of Christ; so is false ungrounded faith the master-vice in the unregenerate soul, and of greatest use in the kingdom of Satan. Why do such a multitude sit still, when they might have pardon for the seeking, but that they verily think they are pardoned already? Why do men live so contentedly in the power of the devil, and walk so carelessly in the certain way to hell; but that they think their way will have no such end, and that the devil hath nothing to do with them? They defy him, they spit at the mention of his name. If you could ask so many thousands as are now in hell, 'What madness could cause you to come hither voluntarily, or to follow Satan to this place of torment, when you might follow Christ to the land of rest?' they would most of them answer you, 'We believed that we had followed towards salvation; and that the way which we were in, would have brought us to heaven. We made sure account of being saved, till we found ourselves damned; and never feared hell, till we were suddenly in it; we would have renounced our sinful courses and companions, but that we thought we might have them and heaven too. We would have sought after Christ more heartily, but that we thought we had part in him already. We would have been more earnest seekers of regeneration, and the power of godliness, but that we verily thought we were Christians before. Oh! if we had known as much as now we know, what lives would we have led, what persons would we have been! But we have flattered ourselves into these insufferable torments. We were told of this before, from the word of God, but we would not believe it till we felt it; and now there is no remedy.'
Reader, do but stop, and think here with thyself, how sad a case is this; that men should so resolutely cheat themselves of their everlasting rest. The Lord grant it never prove thy own case! I would be very loth to weaken the true faith of the meanest Christian, or to persuade any man that his faith is false, when it is true; God forbid that I should so disparage that precious grace which hath the stamp of the Spirit; or so trouble the soul, that Christ would have to be comforted! But I must needs in faithfulness tell thee, that the confident belief of their good estate, and of the pardon of their sins,
which the careless, unholy, unhumbled multitude among us do so commonly boast of, will prove, in the end, but a soul-damning delusion. It hath made me ready to tremble many a time, to hear a drunken, ungodly, unfaithful minister, as confidently in his formal prayers in the pulpit, give God thanks for vocation, justification, sanctification, and assured hope of glorification, as if he had been a most assured saint; when, it may be, his sermon was intended to reproach the saint, and to jeer at sanctification! Methought I even heard the Pharisee say, I thank thee that I am not as other men;
(Luke 18:11;) or Corah, Are not all the people holy, every one? (Num.
16:3, 5.) How commonly do men thank God for these, which they never received, nor ever shall do! How many have thanked God for pardon of sin, who are now tormented for it; and for sanctification, and assured hope of glory, who are now shut out of that inheritance of the sanctified! I warrant you, there is none of this believing in hell; nor any persuasions of pardon or happiness, nor any boasting of their honesty, nor justifying of themselves. This was but Satan's stratagem, that being blindfold they might follow him the more boldly; but then he will uncover their eyes, and they shall see where they are.
Sect. III. Secondly: Another addition to the misery of the damned will be this: that with the loss of heaven, they shall lose also all their hopes. In this life, though they were threatened with the wrath of God, yet their hope of escaping it did bear up their hearts. And when they were wounded with the terrors of the word, they licked all whole again with their groundless hopes; but then they shall part with their hopes and heaven together. We can now scarcely speak with the vilest drunkard, or swearer, or covetous worldling, or scorner at godliness, but he hopes to be saved for all this. If you should go to all the congregation, or town, or country, and ask them one by one, whether they hope to be saved, how few shall you meet with that will not say yea, or that make any great question of it! But, oh! happy world, if salvation were as common as this hope; even those whose hellish nature is written in the face of their conversation, that he that runs may read it, whose tongues plead the cause of the devil, and
speak the language of hell, and whose delight is in nothing but the works of the flesh; yet, these do strongly hope for heaven, though the God of heaven hath told them over and over again in his word, that no such as they shall ever come there. Though most of the world shall eternally perish; and the Judge of the world himself hath told us, that of the many that are called, yet but few are chosen, yet almost all do hope for it, and cannot endure any man that doth but question their hopes. Let but their minister preach against their false hopes, or their best friend come to them and say, 'I am afraid your present hopes of heaven will deceive you; I see you mind not your soul, your heart is not set upon Christ and heaven, you do not so much as pray to God, and worship him in your family; and the Scripture gives you not the least hope of being saved in such a condition as this is;' how ill would they take such an admonition as this, and bid the admonisher look to himself, and let them alone, he should not answer for them; they hope to be saved, as soon as these preciser men, that pray and talk of heaven so much; nay, so strong are these men's hopes, that they will dispute the cause with Christ himself at judgment, and plead their eating and drinking in his presence, their preaching in his name, and casting out devils, (and these are more probable arguments than our baptism, and common profession, and name of Christians); they will stiffly deny that ever they neglected Christ in hunger, nakedness, prison, &c. (and if they did, yet that is less than stripping, imprisoning, banishing, or killing
Christ in his members,) till Christ confute them with the sentence of their condemnation! Though the heart of their hopes will be broken at their death, and particular judgment, yet it seems they would fain plead for such hope at the general judgment. But, oh! the sad state of these men, when they must bid farewell to all their hopes; when their hopes shall all perish with them! Reader, if thou wilt not believe this, it is because thou wilt not believe the Scriptures. The Holy Ghost hath spoken it as plain as can be spoken, "When a wicked man dieth, his expectation shall perish, and the hope of unjust men perisheth."
(Prov. 11:17.) "The hope of the righteous shall be gladness, but the expectation of the wicked shall perish." (Prov. 10:28.) "For what is the hope of the hypocrite, though he hath gained, when God taketh
away his soul? Will God hear his cry when trouble cometh upon him?" (Isa. 28:15, 18; Job 27:8, 9.) "Can the rush grow up without mire? Can the flag grow without water? Whilst it is yet in its greenness, not cut down, it withereth before any other herb; so are the paths of all that forget God; and the hypocrite's hope shall perish, whose hope shall be cut off, and whose trust shall be a spider's web; he shall lean upon his house, but it shall not stand; he shall hold it fast, but it shall not endure." (Job 8:12–14.) "But the eyes of the wicked shall fail, and they shall not escape, and their hope shall be as the giving up of the ghost." (Job 11:20.) The giving up of the ghost is a fit but terrible resemblance of a wicked man's giving up of his hopes. For, First, As the soul departeth not from the body without the greatest terror and pain, so also doth the hope of the wicked depart. Oh, the direful gripes and pangs of horror that seize upon the soul of the sinner at death and judgment, when he is parting with all his former hopes! Secondly, The soul departeth from the body suddenly, in a moment, which hath there delightfully continued so many years, just so doth the hope of the wicked depart. Thirdly, The soul which then departeth, will never return to live with the body in this world any more; and the hope of the wicked when it departeth, taketh an everlasting farewell of his soul. A miracle of resurrection shall again conjoin the soul and body, but there shall be no such miraculous resurrection of the damned's hope. Methinks it is the most doleful spectacle that this world affords, to see an ungodly person dying, and to think of his soul and hopes departing together; and with what a sad change he presently appears in another world.
Then, if a man could but speak with that hopeless soul, and ask it; 'What, are you now as confident of salvation as you were wont to be; do you now hope to be saved as soon as the most godly?' Oh, what a sad answer would he return! They are just like Korah, Dathan, and their companions: while they are confident in their rebellion against the Lord, and cry out, "Are not all the people holy?" They are suddenly swallowed up, and their hopes with them: or like Ahab, who hating and imprisoning the prophet for foretelling his danger, while he is in confident hopes to return in peace, is suddenly smitten with that mortal arrow, which let out those hopes, together with his
soul; or, like a thief upon the gallows, who hath a strong conceit that he shall receive a pardon, and so hopes and hopes, till the ladder is turned; or, like the unbelieving sinners of the world before the flood, who would not believe the threatening of Noah, but perhaps derided him for preparing his ark so many years together, when no danger appeared, till suddenly the flood came and swept them all away. If a man had asked these men, when they were climbing up into the tops of trees and mountains; 'Where is now your hope of escaping, or your merry deriding at the painful preventing preparations of godly Noah; or your contemptuous unbelief of the warnings of God?' what do you think these men would then say, when the waters still pursued them from place to place, till it devoured their hopes and them together?
Or if one had asked Ahab, when he had received his wound, and turned out of the battle to die; 'What think you now of the prophecy of Micaiah; will you release him out of prison; do you now hope to return in peace?' Why, such a sudden overthrow of their hopes will every unregenerate sinner receive. While they were upon earth, they frustrated the expectations, as I may say, of God and man; God sent his messengers to tell them plainly of their danger, and said, It may be they will hear and return and escape; but they stiffened their necks and hardened their hearts: the minister studied, and instructed, and persuaded them in hope: and when one sermon prevailed not, he laboured to speak more plainly and piercingly in the next, in hope that at last they would be persuaded and return; till their hopes were frustrate, and their labour lost, and they were fain to turn their exhortation to lamentation, and to sit down in sorrow for men's wilful misery; and take up the sad exclamation of the prophet, "Who hath believed our report; and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?" (Isa. 53:1:) so did godly parents also instruct their children in hope, and watch over them, and pray for them, hoping that at last their hearts would turn to Christ; and is it not meet that God should frustrate all their hopes, who have frustrated the hopes of all that desired their welfare? Oh! that careless sinners would be awaked to think of this in time! If thou be one of them, who art reading these lines, I do here as a friend advise thee, from the word of the Lord, that, as thou wouldst not have all thy hopes deceive
thee, when thou hast most need of them, thou presently try them, whether they will prove current at the touchstone of the Scripture; and if thou find them unsound, let them go, whatsoever sorrow they cost thee. Rest not till thou canst give a reason of all thy hopes; (1
Pet. 3:15;) till thou canst prove that they are the hopes which grace and not nature only hath wrought; that they are grounded upon scripture promises and sound evidences; that they purify thy heart; that they quicken, and not cool thy endeavours in godliness; that the more thou hopest, the less thou sinnest, and the more painful thou art in following on the work, and not grown more loose and careless by the increasing of thy hopes; and they make thee set lighter by all things on earth, because thou hast such hopes of higher possessions; that thou art willing to have them tried, and fearful of being deceived; that they stir up thy desires of enjoying what thou hopest for, and the deferring thereof is the trouble of thy heart. (Prov.
13:12.) If thou be sure that thy hopes be such as these, God forbid that I should speak a word against them, or discourage thee from proceeding to hope thus to the end. No, I rather persuade thee to go on in the strength of the Lord; and whatever men or devils, or thy own unbelieving heart, shall say against it, go on, and hold fast thy hope, and be sure it will never make thee ashamed. But if thy hope be not of this spiritual nature, and if thou art able to give no better reason why thou hopest, than the worst in the world may give, that God is merciful; and thou must speed as well as thou canst, or the like; and hast not one sound evidence of a saving work of grace upon thy soul, to show for thy hopes; but only hopest that thou shalt be saved, because thou wouldst have it so, and because it is a terrible thing to despair: if this be thy case, delay not an hour; but presently cast away those hopes, that thou mayst get into a capacity of having better in their stead. But it may be thou wilt think this strange doctrine, and say, 'What, would you persuade me directly to despair?'
Answ. Sinner, I would be loth to have thy soul destroyed by wilful self-delusion. The truth is, there is a hope, such as I have before showed thee, which is a singular grace and duty: and there is a hope which is a notorious, dangerous sin. So, consequently, there is a despair which is a grievous sin; and there is a despair which is
absolutely necessary to thy salvation. I would not have thee despair of the sufficiency of the blood of Christ to save thee, if thou believe, and heartily obey him; nor of the willingness of God to pardon and save thee, if thou be such an one; nor yet absolutely of thy own salvation; because, while there is life and time, there is some hope of thy conversion, and so of thy salvation; nor would I draw thee to despair of finding Christ, if thou do but heartily seek him: or of God's acceptance of any sincere endeavours, nor of thy success against Satan, or any corruption which thou shalt heartily oppose, nor of any thing whatsoever God hath promised to do, either to all men in general, or to such as thou art. I would not have thee doubt of any of these in the least measure, much less despair. But this is the despair that I would persuade thee to, as thou lovest thy soul: that thou despair of ever being saved, except thou be born again; or of seeing
God, without holiness; or of escaping perishing, except thou soundly repent: or of ever having part in Christ, or salvation by him, or ever being one of his true disciples, except thou love him above father, mother, or thy own life: or of ever having a treasure in heaven, except thy very heart be there: or of ever escaping eternal death, if thou walk after the flesh, and dost not by the Spirit mortify the deeds of the flesh; or of ever truly loving God, or being his servant, while thou lovest the world, and servest it. These things I would have thee despair of, and whatever else God hath told thee shall never come to pass. And when thou hast sadly searched into thy own heart, aud findest thyself in any of these cases, I would have thee despair of thyself of ever being saved in that state thou art in. Never stick at the sadness of the conclusion, man, but acknowledge plainly, If I die before I get out of this estate, I am lost for ever. It is as good deal truly with thyself as not; God will not flatter thee, he will deal plainly whether thou do or not. The very truth is, this kind of despair is one of the first steps to heaven. Consider, if a man be quite out of his way, what must be the first means to bring him in again? Why, a despair of ever coming to his journey's end in the way that he is in. If his home be eastward, and he be going westward, as long as he hopes he is in the right, he will go on; and as long as he so goes on hoping, he goes further amiss: therefore, when he meets with somebody that
assures him that he is clean out of his way, and brings him to despair of coming home, except he turn back again; then he will return, and then he may hope and spare not. Why, sinner, just so is it with thy soul: thou art born out of the way to heaven; and in that way thou hast proceeded many a year; yet thou goest on quietly, and hopest to be saved, because thou art not so bad as many others. Why, I tell thee, except thou be brought to throw away those hopes, and see that thou hast all this while been quite out of the way to heaven; and hast been a child of wrath, and a servant of Satan, unpardoned, unsanctified, and if thou hadst died in this state, hadst been certainly damned: I say, till thou be brought to this, thou wilt never return and be saved. Who will turn out of his way while he hopes he is right?
And let me once again tell thee, that if ever God mean good to thy soul, and intend to save thee, this is one of the first things that he will work upon thee: remember what I say, till thou feel God convincing thee, that the way which thou hast lived in, will not serve the turn, and so break down thy former hopes, there is yet no saving-work wrought upon thee, how well soever thou mayst hope of thyself. Yea, thus much more, if any thing keep thy soul out of heaven, which God forbid, there is nothing in the world liker to do it, than thy false hopes of being saved, while thou art out of the way to salvation. Why else is it that God cries down such hopes in his word? Why is it that every faithful, skilful minister doth bend all his strength against the false faith and hope of sinners, as if he were to fight against neither small nor great, but this prince of iniquity? Why, alas! they know that these are the main pillars of Satan's kingdom; bring down but them too, and the house will fall. They know also the deceit and vanity of such hopes; that they are directly contrary to the truth of God; and what a sad case that soul is in, who hath no other hope, but that God's word will prove false; when the truth of God is the only ground of true hope; alas! it is no pleasure to a minister to speak to people upon such an unwelcome subject, any more than it is to a pitiful physician to tell his patient, I do despair of your life, except you let blood; or there is no hope of the cure, except the gangrened member be cut off: if it be true, and of flat necessity, though it be displeasing, there is no remedy. Why, I beseech you, think on it reasonably
without prejudice or passion, and tell me, where doth God give any hope of your salvation, till you are new creatures? (Gal. 6:15.) Nay, I have showed you where he flatly overthroweth all such hope. (Gal.
5:18–24; 2 Cor. 5:7.) And will it do you any good for a minister to give you hope, where God gives you none; or, would you desire him to do so? Why, what would you think of such a minister, when those hopes forsake you; or what thanks will you give him, when you find yourself in hell? would you not there lie and curse him for a deceiver for ever? I know this to be true, and therefore I had rather you were displeased with me here, than curse me there. For my own part, if I had but one sermon to preach while I lived, I think this should be it: to persuade down all your ungrounded hopes of heaven, not to leave you there in despair, but that you may hope upon better grounds which will never deceive you. God hath told us what he shall say:
"Say to the righteous, It shall be well with him; and to the wicked, It shall be ill with him." (Isa. 3:10, 11.) And if I shall say, it will be well with thee, when God hath said, it shall be ill with thee, what the better wert thou for this? Whose word would stand, think you, God's or mine? Oh, little do carnal ministers know what they do, who strengthen the hopes of ungodly men! They work as hard as they can against God, while they stand there to speak in the name of God, who layeth his battery against these false hopes, as knowing that they must now down, or the sinner must perish: and these teachers build up what God is pulling down. I know not what they can do worse to destroy men's souls: they are false teachers in regard of application, though they are true in regard of doctrine: this is partly through their flattering, men-pleasing temper; partly because they are guilty themselves, and so should destroy their own hopes, as well as others; and partly because being graceless, they want that experience which should help them to discern betwixt hope and hope. The same may be said of carnal friends: if they see a poor sinner but doubting whether all be well with him, and but troubled for fear lest he be out of the way; what pains do they take to keep up his old hopes? 'What,' say they, 'if you should not be saved, God help a great many: you have lived honestly, &c.: never doubt, man, God is merciful!' Alas, silly creatures, you think you perform an office of friendship, and do
him much good! even as much as to give cold water to a man in a fever; you may ease him at the present, but it afterwards inflames him. What thanks will he give you hereafter, if you settle him upon his former hopes again? Did you never read, "He that saith to the wicked, Thou art righteous, him shall the people curse, nations shall abhor him?" (Prov. 24:24.) If you were faithful friends indeed, you should rather say thus to him; Friend, if you perceive the soundness of your hopes for heaven to be doubtful, oh! do not smother those doubts, but go and open them to your minister, or some able friend; and try them thoroughly in time, and hold no more of them now, than will hold good at judgment: it is better they break while they may be built more surely, than when the discovery will be your torment, but not your remedy. This were friendly and faithful counsel indeed. The proverb is, "If it were not for hope, the heart would break:" and Scripture tells us, that the heart must break that Christ will save. How can it be bound up till it be broken first? so that the hope which keeps their hearts from breaking, doth keep them also from healing and saving.
Well, if these unwise men (who are, as we say, penny wise, and pound foolish, who are wise to keep off the smart of a short, conditional, necessary, curable despair, but not wise to prevent an eternal, absolute, tormenting, incurable despair) do not change their condition speedily, those hopes will leave them which they would not leave; and then they that were fully resolved to hold fast their hopes, let all the preachers in the world say what they would, shall let them go whether they will or no. Then let them hope for heaven if they can.
So that, you see, it will aggravate the misery of the damned, that with the loss of heaven, they shall lose all that hope of it which now supporteth them.
Sect. IV. Thirdly: Another additional loss will be this, They will lose all the false peace of conscience which maketh their present life so easy. The loss of this must necessarily follow the loss of the former.
When presumption and hope are gone, peace cannot tarry. Who
would think, now, that sees how quietly the multitude of the ungodly live, that they must very shortly lie roaring in everlasting flames?
They lie down, and rise, and sleep as quietly; they eat and drink as quietly; they go about their work as cheerfully; they talk as pleasantly as if nothing ailed them, or as if they were as far out of danger as an obedient believer; like a man that hath the falling sickness, you would little think, while he is a labouring as strong, and talking as heartily as another man, how he will presently fall down, lie gasping and foaming, and beating his breast in torment: so it is with these men. They are as free from the fears of hell as others, as free from any vexing sorrows, not so much as troubled with any cares of the state of their souls, nor with any sad or serious thoughts of what shall become of them in another world; yea, and for the most part, they have less doubts and disquiet of mind, than those who shall be saved.
Oh, happy men, if it would be always thus; and if this peace would prove a lasting peace! But, alas! there's the misery, it will not. They are now in their own element, as the fish in the water; but little knows that silly creature when he is most fearlessly and delightfully swallowing down the bait, how suddenly he shall be snatched out, and lie dead upon the bank! And as little think these careless sinners, what a change they are near. The sheep or the ox is driven quietly to the slaughter, because he knows not whither he goes; if he knew it were to his death, you could not drive him so easily. How contented is the swine, when the butcher's knife is shaving his throat, little thinking that it is to prepare for his death! Why, it is even so with these sensual careless men. They fear the mischief least, when they are nearest to it, because they fear it not, or see it not with their eyes.
"As in the days of Noah (saith Christ) they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, till the day that Noah entered into the ark, and knew not till the flood came, and took them all away;"
(Matt. 24:37–39;) so will the coming of Christ be, and so will the coming of their particular judgment be. "For (saith the apostle) when they say, Peace and safety, then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child, and they shall not escape."
(1 Thess. 5:3.) Oh, cruel peace, which ends in such a war! Reader, if this be thy own case; if thou hast no other peace in thy conscience
than this ungrounded, self-created peace, I could heartily wish, for thy own sake, that thou wouldest cast it off. As I would not have any humble, gracious souls to vex their own consciences needlessly, nor to disquiet and discompose their spirits by troubles of their own making, nor to unfit themselves for duty, nor to interrupt their comfortable communion with God, nor to weaken their bodies, or cast themselves into melancholy distempers to the scandal of religion; so would I not have a miserable wretch, who lives in a daily and hourly danger of dropping into hell, to be as merry and as quiet as if all were well with him: it is both unseemly and unsafe; more unseemly than to see a man go laughing to the gallows; and more unsafe than to favour the gangrened member, which must be cut off, or to be making merry when the enemy is entering our habitations.
Men's first peace is usually a false peace; it is a second peace, which is brought into the soul upon the casting out of the first, which will stand good, and yet not always that neither; for, where the change is by the halves, the second or third peace may be unsound, as well as the first; as many a man that casteth away the peace of his profaneness, doth take up the peace of mere civility and morality; or if he yet discover the unsoundness of that, and is cast into trouble, then he healeth all with outward righteousness, or with a half
Christianity, and there he taketh up with peace. This is but driving Satan out of one room into another; but till he be cast out of possession, the peace is unsound. Hear what Christ saith: "When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace; but when a stronger than he shall come upon him, and overcome him, he taketh from him all his armour wherein he trusted, and divideth his spoils." (Luke 11:21, 22.) The soul of every man, by nature, is Satan's garrison; all is at peace in such a man, till Christ comes; when Christ storms this heart, he breaks the peace; he giveth it most terrible alarms of judgment and hell, he battereth it with the ordnance of his threatenings and terrors; he sets all in a combustion of fear and sorrow, till he have forced it to yield to his mere mercy, and take him for the governor, and Satan is cast out; and then doth he establish a firm and lasting peace. If, therefore, thou art yet but in that first peace, and thy heart was never yet either taken by storm, or
delivered up freely to Jesus Christ, never think that thy peace will endure. Can the soul have peace which is at enmity with Christ, or stands out against him, or thinks his government too severe, and his conditions hard; can he have peace against whom God proclaimeth war. I may say to thee, as Jehu to Joram, when he asked, "Is it peace?
What peace, while the whoredoms of thy mother Jezebel remain?" So thou art desirous to hear nothing from the mouth of a minister but peace; but what peace can there be, till thou hast cast away thy wickedness and thy first peace, and make thy peace with God through Christ: wilt thou believe God himself in this case? why, read then what he saith twice over, "There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked." (Isa. 48:22, and 57:21.) And hath he said it; and shall it not stand? Sinner, though thou mayst now har den and fortify thy heart against fear, and grief, and trouble, yet as true as God is true, they will batter down thy proud and fortified spirit, and seize upon it, and drive thee to amazement: this will be done either here or hereafter. My counsel therefore to thee, is that thou presently examine the grounds of thy peace, and say, 'I am now at case and quiet in my mind; but is it grounded, and will it be lasting; is the danger of eternal judgment over; am I sure my sins are pardoned, and my soul shall be saved? if not, alas! what cause of peace? I may be in hell before the next day, for aught I know.' Certainly, a man that stands upon the pinnacle of a steeple, or that sleeps on the top of the main-mast, or that is in the heat of the most bloody fight, hath more cause of peace and carelessness than thou. Why, thou livest under the wrath of God continually, thou art already sentenced to eternal death, and mayst every hour expect the execution, till thou have sued out a pardon through Christ. I can show thee a hundred threatenings in Scripture which are yet in force against thee; but canst thou show me one promise for thy safety an hour? What assurance hast thou when thou goest forth of thy doors that thou shalt ever come in again? I should wonder, but that I know the desperate hardness of the heart of man, how a man that is not sure of his peace with God, could eat, or drink, or sleep, or live in peace!
That thou art not afraid when thou liest down, lest thou shouldst awake in hell; or, when thou risest up, lest thou shouldst be in hell
before night; or, when thou sittest in thy house, that thou still fearest not the approach of death, or some fearful judgment seizing upon thee, and that the threats and sentence are not always sounding in thy ears. Well, if thou wert the nearest friend that I have in the world, in this case that thou art in, I could wish thee no greater good, than that God would break in upon thy careless heart, and shake thee out of thy false peace, and cast thee into trouble, that when thou feelest thy heart at ease, thou wouldst remember thy misery; that when thou art pleasing thyself with thy estate, or business, or labours, thou wouldst still remember the approaching woe; that thou wouldst cry out in the midst of thy pleasant discourse and merry company, 'Oh, how near is the great and dreadful change!' that whatever thou art doing, God would make thee read thy sentence, as if it were still written before thine eyes; and which way soever thou goest, he would still meet thee full in the face with the sense of his wrath, as the angel did Balaam with a drawn sword, till he had made thee cast away thy groundless peace, and lie down at the feet of Christ, whom thou hast resisted, and say, 'Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do?' and so receive from him a surer and better peace, which will never be quite broken, but will be the beginning of thy everlasting peace, and not perish in thy perishing, as the groundless peace of the world will do.
Sect. V. Fourthly: Another additional loss, aggravating their loss of heaven, is this, They shall lose all their carnal mirth. Their merry vein will then be opened and empty; they will say themselves, as Solomon doth, of their laughter, "Thou art mad," and of their mirth,
"What didst thou?" (Eccles. 2:2.) Their witty jests and pleasant conceits are then ended, and their merry tales are all told. "Their mirth was but as the crackling of thorns under a pot;" (Eccles. 7:6;) it made a great blaze and unseemly noise for a little while, but it was presently gone, and will return no more. They scorned to entertain any saddening thoughts: the talk of death and judgment was irksome to them, because it damped their mirth: they could not endure to think of their sin or danger, because these thoughts did sad their spirits. They knew not what it was to weep for sin, or to humble themselves under the mighty hand of God. They could laugh away
sorrow, and sing away cares, and drive away these melancholy thoughts. They thought, if they should live so austerely, and meditate, and pray, and mourn, as the godly do, their lives would be a continual misery, and it were enough to make them run mad. Alas, poor souls! what a misery then will that life be, where you shall have nothing but sorrow; intense, heart-piercing, multiplied sorrow; when you shall have neither the joys of the saints, nor your own former joys! Do you think there is one merry heart in hell; or one joyful countenance, or jesting tongue? You cry now, A little mirth is worth a great deal of sorrow; but surely a little godly sorrow, which would have ended in eternal joy, had been more worth than a great deal of your foolish mirth, which will end in sorrow. Can men of gravity run laughing and playing in the streets as little children do; or wise men laugh at a mischief as fools and madmen; or men, that are sound in their brain, fall a dancing, as they will do in a viti saltus, till they fall down dead with it? No more pleasure have wise men in your pitiful mirth: for the end of such mirth is sorrow.
Sect. VI. Fifthly: Another additional loss will be this, They shall lose all their sensual contentments and delights. That which they esteemed their chiefest good, their heaven, their God, that must they lose, as well as heaven and God himself. They shall then, in despite of them, fulfil that command, which here they would not be persuaded to obey, of "making no provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof." (Rom. 13:14.) Oh, what a fall will the proud, ambitious man have from the top of his honours! As his dust and bones will not be known from the dust and bones of the poorest beggars, so neither will his soul be honoured or favoured any more than theirs. What a number of the great, noble, and learned, are now shut out of the presence of Christ! If you say, 'How can I tell that?' why, I answer, because their Judge hath told me so. Hath he not said by his apostle,
"that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called?" (1 Cor. 1:26.) And if they be not called, they be not predestinate, or justified, or glorified. (Rom. 8:30.) Surely that rich man (Luke 16.) hath now no humble obeisance done him, nor titles of honour put upon him; nor do the poor now wait at his gates to
receive of his scraps. They must be shut out of their well-contrived houses, and sumptuous buildings, their comely chambers, with costly hangings; their soft beds, and easy couches. They shall not find their gallant walks, their curious gardens, with a variety of beauteous, odoriferous fruits and flowers; their rich pastures, and pleasant meadows, and plenteous harvest, and flocks and herds.
Their tables will not be so spread and furnished, nor they so punctually attended and observed. They have not there variety of dainty fare, nor several courses, nor tempting dishes prepared to please their appetites to the full. The rich man there fareth not deliciously every day, neither shall he wear there his purple and fine linen. The jetting, gorgeous, well-dressed gallant, that must not have a pin amiss, that stands as a picture set to sale, that take themselves more beholden to the tailor or sempster for their comeliness, than to God; they shall then be quite in a different garb. There is no powdering or curling of their hair, nor eyeing of themselves, nor desirous expecting the admiration of beholders. Surely, our voluptuous youths must leave their cards and dice behind them, as also their hawks, and hounds, and bowls, and all their former pleasant sports: they shall then spend their time in a more sad employment, and not in such pastimes as these. Where will then be your May-games, and your morrice-dancers; your stageplays, and your shows: what mirth will you have in remembering all the games, and sports, and dancings, which you had on the Lord's-days, when you should have been delighting yourselves in God and his work? Oh, what an alteration will our jovial, roaring swaggerers then find: what bitter draughts will they have instead of their wine and ale! If there were any drinking of healths, the rich man would not have begged so hard for a drop of water: the heat of their lust will be then abated; they shall not spend their time in courting their mistresses, in lascivious discourse, in amorous songs, in wanton dalliance, in their lustful embracements, or brutish defilements; yet they are likely enough to have each other's company there: but they will have no more comfort in that company, than Zimri and Cosbi in dying together; or than lewd companions have, in being hanged together on the same gallows. Oh, the doleful meeting that these lustful
wantons will have there! how it will even cut them to the heart, to look each other in the face, and to remember that beastly pleasure, for which they now must pay so dear! so will it be with the fellowship of drunkards, and all others that were playfellows together in sin, who got not their pardon in the time of their lives. What direful greeting will there then be, cursing the day that ever they saw the faces of one another; remembering and ripping up all their lewdness, to the aggravation of their torment! Oh, that sinners would remember this in the midst of their pleasure and jollity, and say to one another, 'We must shortly reckon for this before the jealous
God.' Will the remembrance of it then be comfortable or terrible; will these delights accompany us to another world: how shall we look each other in the face, if we meet in hell together for these things; will not the memorial of them be then our torment: shall we then take these for friendly actions, or rather wish we had spent this time in praying together, or admonishing one another? Oh, why should we sell such a lasting, incomprehensible joy, for one taste of seeming pleasure! Come, as we have sinned together, let us pray together before we stir, that God would pardon us; and let us enter into a promise to one another, that we will do thus no more, but will meet together with the godly in the worship of God, and help one another towards heaven, as often as we have met for our sinful merriments, in helping to deceive and destroy each other.' This would be the way to prevent this sorrow, and a course that would comfort you, when you look back upon it hereafter. Who would spend so many days, and years, and thoughts, and cares, and be at so much cost and pains, and all to please this flesh for a moment, which must shortly be most loathsome, stinking rottenness; and in the meantime neglect our precious souls, and that state which we must trust to for ever and ever? To be at such pains for that pleasure which dies in the enjoying, and is almost as soon gone as come; and when we have most need of comfort, will be so far from following us as our happiness, that it will be perpetual fuel to the flames which shall torment us! Oh, that men knew but what they desire, when they would so fain have all things suited to the desires of the flesh! They would have buildings, walks, lands, clothes, diet, and all so fitted as