Chapter 1 (continued, part 16)
Fourth Direction. Beware of curiosity. He is half gone into error that vainly covets novelties, and listens after every new-fangled opinion. We read of 'itching ears,' II Tim. 4:3. This itch commonly ends in a scab of error. Tamar lost her chastity by gadding. Castitas mentis
est fides incorrupta—the chastity of the mind is its soundness in the faith. And this they are in danger to lose who will go into all companies, and lend an ear to all doctrines that are preached. First be a hearer, and then a disciple of them. Many indulge themselves so far in this curiosity of conversing with every sect and opinion, that at last they turn skeptics, and can settle upon nothing as truth. Augustine confesseth of himself, that he had gone through so many errors and delusions of the Manicheans—that at last he was afraid of truth itself, which heard Ambrose preach. Ut malum medicum expertus, etiam bono timeat se committere—as, saith he, one that hath had experience of an unskilful physician, is at last afraid to put himself in the hands of him that is skilful. O take heed that you, who will not hear anything, come not in the end that you will believe nothing.
Fifth Direction. Humbly beg and established judgment of God. No travellers lose their way sooner than they who think they know it so well that they need not ask it. And no professors are in danger of being drawn from the truth, as much as they who lean to their own understandings, and acknowledge not God in their way, by consulting with him daily. Mark pride—however it may seem to soar aloft in profession at present—and you shall find it at last laid in the ditch of error or profaneness. This is the bed God hath made for it, and it must lie there where God hath appointed its lodging. It is very necessary that such men should be left to be bewildered, and so put to shame, that, when their understanding returns to them—if God hath such a mercy in store for them—they may, with Nebuchadnezzar, 'bless the Most High,' and acknowledge him, at their return, whom they neglected so unworthily at their setting forth. O take heed therefore of pride, which will soon make thee a stranger at the throne of grace. Pride takes little delight in begging. It turns humble praying for truth into a busy stickling and ambitious
disputing about truth (there is honour to be got here): and thus many, to get victory, have lost truth in the heat of the battle. Lay this deep in thy heart, that God, which gives an eye to see truth, must give a hand to hold it fast when we have it. Quœ habemus ab eo, tenere non possumus sine eo (Bern.)—what we have from God, we cannot keep without God. Keep therefore thy acquaintance with God, or else truth will not keep her acquaintance long with thee. God is light, thou art going into the dark, as soon as thou turnest thy back upon him. We stand at better advantage to find truth, and keep it also, when devoutly praying for it, than when fiercely wrangling and contending about it. Disputes roil the soul, and raise the dust of passion. Prayer sweetly composeth the mind, and lays the passions which disputes draw forth. And I am sure a man may see farther in a still clear day, than in a windy and cloudy one. When a person talks much, and rests little, we have great cause to fear his brain will not long hold; and truly, when a person shall be much in talking and disputing about truth without a humble spirit in prayer to be led into it, God may justly punish that man's pride with a spiritual frenzy in his mind, that he shall not know error from truth.
Sixth Direction. Look thou takest not offense at the difference of judgments and opinions that are found amongst the professors of religion. It is a stone which the Papists throw, in these divided times especially, before our feet. How know you, saith he, which is truth, when there are so many judgments and ways amongst you? Some have so stumbled at this, that they have quit the truth they once professed, and, by the storms of dissensions in matters of religion, have been, if not thrown upon the rock of atheism, yet driven to and fro in a fluctuation of mind, not willing to cast anchor anywhere in their judgment till they see this tempest over, and those that are scattered from one another by diversity of judgment, met together in a unity and joint consent of persuasions in matters of religion—a
resolution, as one saith very well, as foolish and pernicious to the soul, if not more, than it would be to the body if a man should vow he would not eat till all the clocks in the city should strike twelve just together. The latter might sooner be expected than the former.
Seventh Direction. Rest not till thou feelest the efficacy of every truth thou holdest in thy judgement, upon thy heart. One faculty helps another. The more clear truth is in the understanding, the more abiding in the memory. And the more operative truth is on the will, the more fixed in the judgment. Let a thing be never so excellent, yet, if a man can make little or no use thereof, it is little worth to him, and may easily be got from him. Thus may rare libraries have been parted with, by rude soldiers, into whose hands they have fallen, for little more than their covers were worth, which by some, that could have improved them, would [have] been kept as the richest prize. And verily, it fares with truth according as they are into whose hands it falls. If it lights upon one that falls to work with it, and draws out the strength and sweetness of it, this man holds it so much the faster in his judgement, by how much more operative it is on his heart; but if it meets with one that finds no divine efficacy it hath, to humble, comfort, sanctify him, it may soon be turned out of doors, and put to seek for a new host. Such may, for a time, dance about that light which, a while after, themselves will blow out. When I hear of a man that once held original sin and the universal pollution of man's nature to be a truth, but now denies it, I cannot but fear, he did never lay it so close [to] his heart, as to abase and humble himself kindly for it; or that he grew weary of the work, and, by sloth and negligence, lost the efficacy of that truth in his heart, before he lost the truth itself in his judgment. I might instance in many other particulars, wherein professors in these rowling times have slidden from their old principles. Singing of psalms hath been a duty owned and practised by many, who now have laid it down; and it were a
question worth the asking them, Whether formerly they never enjoyed sweet communion with God in that duty as well as in others? whether their hearts did never dance and leap up to God with heavenly affections, while they sang with their lips? and verily I should think it strange to hear a godly person deny this. Well, if ever thou didst, Christian, meet with God at this door of the tabernacle— for I cannot yet think it other—let me ask thee again, whether the heart did not grow common, cold, and formal in they duty before thou durst cast it off? And if so—which I am ready to believe—I desire such in the fear of God to consider these four questions, I John 2:23, 24.
1. Question. Whether they may not fear that they are in an error, and that this darkness is befallen their judgments as a punishment for their negligence and slightness of spirit in performing the duty when they did not question the lawfulness of it?
2. Question. Whether it were not better they should labour to recover the first liveliness of their affections in the duty—which would soon bring them again acquainted with that sweetness and joy they found of old in it—than to cast it off, upon so weak evidence as they who can say most, bring in against it?
3. Question. Whether such as neglect one duty, are likely to thrive by any other, and keep up the savour of them fresh in their souls?
4. Question. Whether, if God should suffer them to decline in their affections to any other ordinance—which [may] he forbid, if it be his will—it were not as easy for Satan to gather together arguments enough to make them scruple, and in time cast off that also as well as this? And that there is reason for such a question, these times will tell us; wherein every ordinance hath had its turn to
be questioned, yea, disowned, some by one, some by another. One will not sing; another will not have his child baptized; a third will not have any water baptism, nor supper neither; a fourth bungs up his ear too from all hearing of the word, and would have us expect an immediate teaching. Thus when once ordinances and truths become dead to us through our miscarriage under them, we can be willing— how beautiful soever they were once in our eye—yea call, to have them buried out of our sight. These things sadly laid to heart, will give you reason to think, though this direction be placed last in order of my discourse, yet it should not find neither the last nor least place among all the other named, in your Christian care and practice.
SECOND GIRDING ABOUT.
[It is the Christian's duty to make a FREE
AND BOLD PROFESSIONof the truth.]
Since Satan comes sometimes as a lion in the persons of bloody persecutors, and labours to scare Christians from the truth with fire and faggot; to defend us against this design, we need to have truth girt about us, so that with a holy resolution we may maintain our profession in the face of death and danger. The second way that truth is assaulted is by force and violence, the devil pierceth the fox's skin of seducers with the lion's skin of persecutors. The bloodiest tragedies in the world have been acted on the stage of the church; and the most inhuman massacres and butcheries committed on the harmless sheep of Christ. The first man that was slain in the world was a saint, and he for religion. And as Luther said, Cain will kill Abel unto the end of the world. The fire of persecution can never go out quite, so long as there remains a spark of hatred in the wicked's bosom on earth, or the devil in hell to blow it up. Therefore there is a second way of having truth girt about the Christian's loins, as
necessary as the other, and that is in the profession of it. Many that could never be beaten from the truth by dint of argument, have been forced from it by the fire of persecution. It is not an orthodox judgment will enable a man to suffer for the truth at the stake. Then that poor Smith, in our English Martyrology, would not have sent such a dastardlike answer to his friend—ready to suffer for that truth which he himself had been a means to instruct him in—that indeed it was the truth, but he could not burn. Truth in the head, without holy courage, makes a man like the sword-fish, which Plutarch saith hath a sword in the head, but no heart to use it. Then a person becomes unconquerable, when from heaven he is endued with a holy boldness to draw forth the sword of the Spirit, and own the naked truth, by a free profession of it in the face of death and danger. This, this is to have our 'loins girt about with truth.' So that the note from this second kind of girding with truth is,
DOCTRINE. That it is the saint's duty, and should be their care, not only to get an established judgment of the truth, but also to maintain a steadfast profession of the truth. This the apostle presseth: 'Let us hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering,' Heb. 10:23. He speaks it in opposition to those who in those hazardous times declined the assemblies of the saints for fear of persecution; he calls it a 'wavering,' and he that staggers is next door to apostasy. We must not spread our sails of profession in a calm, and furl them up when the wind riseth. Pergamos is commended, Rev. 2:13, for her bold profession: 'I know thy works, and where thou dwellest, even where Satan's seat is: and thou holdest fast my name, and hast not denied my faith, even in those days wherein Antipas was my faithful martyr, who was slain among you, where Satan dwelleth.' It was a place where Satan sat in the magistrate's seat, where it was grande satis picaculum mortem mereri, Christianum esse—matter enough to deserve death to be a Christian; yea, some blood was now shed
before their eyes, and even in those days they denied not the truth. This God took kindly. It is a strict charge Paul gives Timothy, 'But thou, O man of God, flee these things; and follow after righteousness,' c., I Tim. 6:11. While others are proling for the world, lay about thee for spiritual riches, pursue this with as hot a chase as they do the temporal. But what if this trade cannot be peaceably driven; must shop windows be then shut up, profession be laid aside, and he stay to be religious till more favourable times come about? No such matter. He bids him ver. 12, 'fight the good fight of faith.' Do not base ly quit thy profession, but lay life and all to stake to keep this; and that he might engage him beyond a retreat, see ver. 13, 'I give thee charge in the sight of God, who quickeneth all things; and before Christ Jesus, who before Pontius Pilate witnessed a good confession, that thou keepest this commandment.' As if he had said, 'If ever you will see the face of Christ with comfort at the resurrection —who chose to lose his life, rather than deny or dissemble the truth— stand to it, and flinch not from your colours.' Augustine in his Confess., lib. 8. ch.2., hath a notable story of one Victorinus, famous in Rome for rhetoric, which he taught the senators. This man in his old age was converted to Christianity, and came to Simplicianus, one eminent at that time for his piety, whispering in his ears softly these words, Ego sum Christianus—I am a Christian; but this holy man answered, non credo, nec deputabo te inter Christianos, nisi in ecclesia Christi te videro—I will not believe it or count thee so, till I see thee among the Christians in the church. At this he laughed, saying, ergone parietes faciunt Christianum?— do then those walls make a Christian? cannot I be except I openly profess it, and let the world know the same? This he said for fear, being yet a young convert though an old man; but a while after, when he was more confirmed in the faith, and seriously considered that if he should continue thus ashamed of Christ, he would be ashamed of him, when he cometh in the glory of his Father and the holy angels, he changed
his note, and came to Simplicianus, saying, eamus in ecclesiam, Christianus volo fieri—let us go to the church, I will now in earnest be a Christian. And there though a private profession of his faith might have been accepted, he chose to do it openly, saying, that he had openly professed rhetoric, which was not a matter of salvation, and should he be afraid to own the word of God in the congregation of the faithful? God requires both the religion of the heart and mouth. 'With the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation,' Rom. 10:10. Confession of the mouth without faith in the heart is gross hypocrisy. To pretend faith without profession of the mouth, is both hypocrisy and cowardice.
Reason. I shall give but one reason of the point, and that is taken from the great trust which God puts in his saints concerning his truth. This is the great depositum—treasure, which God delivers to his saints, with a strict and solemn charge to keep against all that undermine or oppose it. Some things we trust God with, some things God trusts us with. The great thing which we put into God's hand to be kept for us is our soul. 'He is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day,' II Tim. 1:12. That which God trusts us chiefly with is his truth. It is therefore said to be 'delivered' to them, as a charge of money to a friend whom we confide in. 'Contend for the faith which was once delivered to the saints,' Jude 3. 'Unto them,' saith the apostle, speaking of the Jews, 'were committed the oracles of God,' Rom. 3:2. They were concredited with that heavenly treasure. So Paul Exhorts Timothy to 'hold fast the form of sound words,' II Tim. 1:13, and this, he calls the 'good thing which was committed to him,' ver. 14. If he that is intrusted with the keeping of a king's crown and jewels, ought to look carefully to his charge that none be lost or stolen, much more the Christian that hath in his charge God's crown and treasure. Rob God of his
truth, and what hath he left? The word of truth is that testimony which the great God gives of himself to man, Ps 19:7; Isa.20; Heb. 12:1; Rev. 11:3. The saints are his chosen witnesses above others, whom he calls forth to vouch his truth, by a free and holy profession thereof before men—called therefore the witnesses of God. He that maintains any error from the word, bears false witness against God. He that for fear or shame deserts the truth, or dissembles his profession, denies God his testimony; and who can express what a bloody sin this is, and what a high contempt of God it amounts? It were a horrid crime though but in a man's case. As when one is falsely accused in a court, [it would be that one able] to speak something that might clear the innocency of the man, should yet suffer him to be condemned, rather than hazard himself a little by speaking the truth in open court. O, what then is his sin, that when God himself in his truth stands at sorry man's bar, dares not speak for God when called in to declare himself, but lets truth suffer by an unjust sentence, that himself may not, at man's hands, for bearing witness to it!
Objection. But this may seem too heavy a burden to lay on the Christian's back. Must we lay all at stake, and hazard all that is dear to us, rather than deny or dissemble our profession of the truth? Sure Christ will have but few followers if he holds his servants to such hard terms.
Answer. Indeed it is hard to flesh and blood —one of the highest stiles to be gone over in our way to heaven—a carnal heart cannot hear it but he is offended presently, Matt. 13:21. Therefore such as are loath to lose heaven, and yet unwilling to venture thus much for it, have set their wits at work to find an easier way thither. Hence those heretics of old —Priscillianists and others, whose chief religion was to save their own skin—made little of outward profession. They
thought they might say and unsay, swear and forswear—according to their wretched principle, juro, perjuro, mentem injuratum gero—I swear and forswear, I bear a mind that is not bound by any oath—so in their heart they did but cleave to the truth. O what fools were the prophets, apostles, and other holy martyrs, that have sealed the truth with their blood, if their might have been such a fair way of escaping the storm of persecution. [Those must be] bold men, that to save a little trouble from man for truth's sake, durst invent such detestable blasphemies against the truth; yea, deface those characters which nature itself engraves upon the conscience. The same window that lets in the light of a deity, would, with it, let in this also, that we should walk in the name of this God. The every heathen know this: 'All people will walk every one in the name of his god,' Micah 4:5. Socrates, to blood, held [that] there was but one God; and in his apology for his life said, 'If they would give him his life on condition to keep this truth to himself, and not teach it to others, he would not accept it.' Behold here the powerful workings of a natural conscience! Have not they then improved the knowledge of the Scripture well in the meantime, that are so far outshot from nature's weak bow? Religion would soon vanish into an empty nothing, if, for fear of every one we meet, we must, like runaway soldiers, pluck off our colours and put our profession as it were in our pockets, lest it should be known to whom we belong. What doth God require by a free profession of his truth, more than a master doth of his servant, when he bids him take his livery and follow him in the streets? Or, than a prince, [when he] calls his subjects into the field, to declare their loyalty by owning his quarrel against an invading enemy? And is it reasonable, what man requires of these—and only hard, when it comes from God's hands? Nay, it is not more, nor so much as we desire of God for ourselves. Who would not have God make profession of his love to us, and bear witness for us against Satan and our own sins, at that great day when men and angels shall be
spectators? And shall we expect that from God which he owes us by no law, but of his own free promise, and deny him that which we are under so many bonds to pay? If it be but in some affliction, while we are here, how disconsolate are we if God's face be a little overcast, and he doth not own us in our distress? And is there no kindness to be shown to that God that knows your soul in adversity? When his truth is in an agony, may not Christ look that all his friends should sit up and watch with it? O it were shame with a witness that any such effeminate delicacy should be found among Christ's servants, that they cannot break a little of their worldly rest and enjoyments, to attend on him and his truth.
[Use or Application.]
Let this stir us up to get the girdle of truth closely girt to us, that we may be able to hold fast the profession of it, even in the face of death and danger, and not be offended when persecution ariseth. Blessed be God it is not yet come to that. We have the truth at a cheaper rate, but how soon the market may rise we know not. Truth is not always to be had at the same price. Buy it we must at any, but sell it upon no terms. And let me tell you, there hath [been], is, and will be, a spirit of persecution in the hearts of the wicked to the end of the world; and as Satan was considering Job before he laid his foul hands on him, so now, persecution is working in the spirits of the ungodly. There are engines of death continually preparing in the thoughts and desires of Satan and his instruments against the sincere professors of the truth. It is already resolved upon what they would do, might power and opportunity be given to put their malice in execution. Yea, we are half-way already towards a persecution. Satan comes first with a spirit of error and then of persecution. He first corrupts men's minds with error, and then enrageth their hearts with wrath against the professors of truth. It is impossible that error,
being a brat of hell, should be peaceable. It would not then be like its father. That which is from beneath can neither be pure nor peaceable. And how far God hath suffered this sulphurous spirit of error to prevail, is so notorious, that no apology is broad enough to cover the nakedness of these unhappy times. It is therefore high time to have our girdle of truth on, yea, close girt about us in the profession of it. Not every one that now applauds truth, will follow it when once it comes to show them the way to prison. Not every one that preacheth for it, or disputes for it, will suffer for it. Arguments are harmless things—blunt weapons—they fetch no blood; but when we suffer, then we are called to try it with truth's enemies at sharps. This requires something more than a nimble tongue, a sharp wit, and a logical head. Where then will be the wise, the disputer, the men of parts and gifts? alas, they will, like cowardly soldiers, be wanting in the fight, though they could be as forward as the best at a muster or training, when no enemy was in the field—when to appear for truth was rather a matter of gain or applause than loss and hazard. No, God hath chosen the foolish to confound the wise in this piece of service—the humble Christian, by his faith, patience, and love to the truth, to shame men of high parts and no grace.
[Directions for the girding of truth close
to us, in the profession of it.]
But how may a soul get to be thus girt with truth in the profession of it? I answer, First. Labour to get a heart inflamed with a sincere love to the truth. Second. To a heart inflamed with the love of truth, labour to add a heart with the fear of that wrath which God hath in store for all that apostatize from the truth.
DIRECTION FIRST. Labour to get an heart inflamed with a sincere love to the truth. This only is able to match the enemies of truth.
The worst they can do is bonds or death; and 'love is stronger than death.' It kills the very heart of death itself. It makes all easy. Commandments are grievous to love, nor doth it complain of sufferings. With what a light heart did Jacob, for the love of Rachel, endure the heat of the day and cold of the night! It is venturous. Jonathan threw a kingdom at his heels, and conflicted with the anger of an enraged father, for David's sake. Love never thinks itself a loser so long as it keeps its beloved; yea, it is ambitious of any hazardous enterprise, whereby it may sacrifice itself in the service of its beloved, as we see in David, who put his life in his hands for Michal. How much more so when our love is pitched upon so transcendent an object as Christ and his truth! Alas, they are but faint spirits which are breathed from a creature! weak beams that are shot from such sorry beauties! If these lay their loves under such a law that they cannot but obey, though with the greatest peril and hazard; what constraint then must a soul ravished with the love of Christ be under! This has made the saints leap out of their estates, relations, yea out of their bodies with joy, counting it not their loss to part with them, but to keep them with the least prejudice to the truth, Rev. 12:11. It is said there, 'they loved not their lives unto the death.' Mark, not to the loss of some of the comforts of their lives, but 'unto the death.' Life itself they counted an enemy when it would part them and truth. As a man doth not love his arm, or leg, when it hazards the rest, but bids cut it off; 'cannot we live,' say these noble spirits, 'but to the clouding of truth, and calling our love to it and Christ into question?—welcome then the worst of deaths.' This kept up David's courage when his life was laid for: 'The wicked have waited for me to destroy me: but I will consider thy testimonies,' Ps. 119:95. A carnal heart would have considered his estate, wife, and children, or at least his life, now in danger. But David's heart was on a better subject; he considered the testimonies of God, and so much sweetness pours in upon his soul while he is rowling them in his
meditation, that he cannot hold. 'O how I love thy law!' ver. 97. This made him set light by all the troubles he met with for his cleaving to the truth. It is a great mystery to the world, that men for an opinion, as they call it, should run such desperate hazard. Therefore Paul was thought by his judge to be out of his wits. And that question which Pilate asked Christ, seems rather to be slightingly, rather than seriously spoken, John 18. Our Saviour had told him, ver. 37, that the end why he was born, and came into the world, was, that he should 'bear witness to the truth.' Then Pilate, ver. 38, asks Christ, 'What is truth?' and presently flings away, as if he had said, Is this now a time to think of truth, when thy life is in danger? What is truth, that thou shouldst venture so much for it? But a gracious should may better ask in a holy scorn, What are riches and honours, what the fading pleasures of this cheating world, yea, what is life itself, that any or all these should be set in opposition to truth? O sirs, look what has your love that will command purse, credit, life and all. Amor meus pondus meum—every man goes where his love carries him. If the world has your love, on it you will spend your lives; if truth has your hearts, you will catch the blow that is made at it in your own breasts, rather than let it fall on it. Only be careful that your love to truth be sincere, or else it will leave you at the prison door, and make you part with truth when you should most appear for it. There are three sorts of pretenders to truth, whose love is not like to endure the fiery trial.
[Three sorts of pretenders to truth.]
First Sort. Such as embrace truth for carnal advantage. Sometimes truth pays well for her board in the world's own coin, and so long every one will invite her to his house. These do not love truth, but the jewel in her ear. Many are observed in Henry the Eighth's time to be very zealous against the abbeys, that loved their lands more
than they hated their idolatry. Truth finds few that loves her gratis. And those few only will suffer with truth and for it; as for the other, when the worldly dowry that truth brought be once spent, you will find they are weary of their match. This kitchen-fire burns no longer than such gross fuel of profit, credit, and the like, does feed it. If you cannot love naked truth, you will not endure to be disgraced for truth; and what usage truth finds, that her followers must expect.
Second Sort. Such as commend truth, and cry it up highly, but who, if you mark them, do but compliment with it all this while. They keep at a distance, and do not suffer truth to come within them, so as to give law unto them; like one that entertains a suitor, speaks well of him, holds discourse with him, but will not hear of marrying him. It is one thing N48,Ã —really to love, another 6"J"N48,Æ—merely to kiss or caress. Bucholcerus would oft say, multi osculantur Christum, pauci vero amant—many kiss Christ, but few love him. True love to Christ is conjugal. When a soul delivers up itself, from an inward liking it hath to Christ as to her husband, to be ruled by his Spirit, and ordered by his word of truth, here is a soul that loves Christ and his truth. But where truth has no command, and bears no rule, there dwells no love to truth in that heart. She that is not obedient cannot be a loving wife, because love would constrain her to be so; and so would love in the soul enforce obedience to the truth it loves. Nay, he that doth not obey truth, is so far from loving it, that he is afraid of truth; will sooner prove a persecutor of truth, than a sufferer for truth. So true is that of Hierome, quem metuit, quis odit; quem odit, perisse cupit—whom we fear, we hate; whom we hate, we wish they were destroyed. Saul feared David, and that made him more industriously seek his ruin. Herod feared John, and that cost him his life. Slavish fear makes the naughty heart imprison truth in his conscience, because, if that had its liberty and authority in the soul, it would imprison, yea, execute every lust that rules the roost;
and he that imprisons truth in his own bosom, will hardly lie in prison himself as a witness for truth.
Third Sort. Such as have no zeal against truth's enemies. Love goes over armed with zeal; this is the dagger she draws against all the opposers of truth. Qui non zelat, non amat—he that is not zealous doth not love. Now right zeal acts like fire, ad ultimum sui posse—to its utmost power, yet ever keeping its place and sphere. If it be confined to the breast of a private Christian, whence it may not flame forth in punishing truth's enemies, then it burns inwardly the more for being pent up, and preys, like a fire in his bones, upon the Christian's own spirits, consuming them, yea, eating him up for grief to see truth trodden under foot of error or profaneness, and he not able to help it up. It is no joy to a zealous lover to outlive his beloved. Such there have been who could have chose rather to have leaped into their friends' grave, and lain down with them in the dust, than to pass here a disconsolate life without them. 'Let us go and die with him,' said Thomas, when Christ told them Lazarus was dead. And I am sure zealous lovers of truth count it as melancholy living in evil times, when that is fallen in the streets. The news of the ark's taking, frightened good Eli's soul out of his body, and this may charitably be thought to have given life to Elijah's wish, yea, solemn prayer for death, 'It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life,' I Kings 19:4. The holy man saw how things went among the great ones of those wicked times. Idolaters, they were courted, and the faithful servants of God carted, as I may so say, yea, killed; and now this zealous prophet thinks it a good time to leave the world in, rather than live in torment any longer, to see the name, truth, and servants of God trampled on by those who should have shown most kindness to them. But if zeal hath any power put into her hands, wherein she may vindicate truth's cause, as when she is exalted into the magistrate's seat, then truth's enemies shall know and feel that she
'bears not the sword in vain.' The zealous magistrate as he will have an arm to relieve and defend truth —the Israelite, so a hand to smite blasphemy, error, and profaneness—the Egyptian—when any of them assault her. O how Moses laid about him—that meek man, who stood so mute in his own cause, Num. 12—when the people had committed idolatry! His heart was so infired within him, that, as well as he loved them, he could neither open his mouth in a prayer for them to God, nor his ear to receive any petition from them, till he had given vent to his zeal in an act of justice upon the offenders. Now such, and such only, are the persons that are likely to suffer for the truth when so called upon, who will not let it suffer if they can help it. But as for neutral Gallio-like spirits, that can see truth and error scuffling, and not do their utmost to relieve truth—by interposing their power and authority, if a magistrate—by preaching the one up and the other down, if a minister—and by a free testimony to, fervent prayer for, and affectionate sympathizing with truth, as it fares ill or well, if a private Christian—I say, as for such—who stand in this case, as some spectators about two wrestlers, not caring much who hath the fall—these are not the men that can be expected to expose themselves to much suffering for truth. That magistrate who hath not zeal enough to stop the mouths of truth's enemies when he may, will he open his mouth in a free profession of it when death and danger face him? That minister who hath neither love nor courage enough to apologize for truth in the pulpit, can it be thought that he would stand to her defence at the stake? In a word, that private Christian whose heart is not wounded through truth's sides so as to sympathize with it, will he interpose himself betwixt truth and the blow that bloody persecutors make at it, and choose to receive it into his own body, though to death, rather than it should light on truth? If the fire of love within be out, or so little that it will not melt the man into sorrow for the wrongs done to truth by men of corrupt minds; where will the flame be found, that should enable him to burn to
ashes, under the hand of bloody men? He will never endure the fire in his body, that hath no more care to keep that sacred fire burning in his soul. If he cannot shed tears, much less will he bleed for truth.
Question. If any now should ask, how they may get their hearts inflamed with this heavenly fire of love to truth? I answer,
1. Answer. Labour for an inward conformity of thy heart to truth. Likeness is the ground of love. A carnal heart cannot like truth, because it is not like to truth. Such a one may love truth as one did Alexander, regem non Alexandrum—the king, not the person that was king. Truth in its honour and dignity, when it can prefer him, but not naked truth itself. How is it possible an earthly soul should love truth that is heavenly?—an unholy heart, truth that is pure? O it is sad indeed, when men's tenets and principles in their understandings, do clash and fight with the principles of their hearts and affections —when men have orthodox judgments, and heterodox hearts! There must needs be little love to truth, because the judgment and will are so unequally yoked. Truth in the conscience reproving and threatening lust in the heart! and that again controlling truth in the conscience! Thus like a scolding couple, they may a while dwell together, but taking no content in one another, the wretch is easily persuaded to give truth a bill of divorce at last, and send her away, as Ahasuerus did Vashti, that he may espouse other principles, which will suit better with his corrupt heart, and not cross him in the way he is in. This, this I am persuaded hath parted many and truth in these licentious days. They could not sin peaceably while they kept their judgements sound. Truth ever and anon would be chiding them, and therefore to match their judgements with their hearts, they have taken up principles suitable to their lusts. But soul, if truth hath had such a power upon thee to transform thee, by the renewing of thy mind, into its own likeness, that as the scion turns
the stock into its own nature, so truth hath assimilated thee, and made thee bear fruit like itself, thou art the person that will never part with truth. Before thou canst do this, thou must part with that new nature, which, by it, the Spirit of God hath begot in thee. There is now such a near union betwixt thee and truth, or rather thee and Christ, as can never be broken. We see what a mighty power there goes along with God's ordinance of marriage—that two persons, who possibly a month before never knew one another, yet—their affections once knit by love, and their persons made one by marriage —they can now leave friends and parents for to enjoy each other. Such a mighty power, and much greater, goes along with this mystical marriage between the soul and Christ, the soul and truth;— that the same person who, before conversion, would not have ventured the loss of a penny for Christ or his truth, yet now, knit to Christ and his truth by a secret work of the Spirit, new-forming him into the likeness thereof, can bid adieu to the world, life, and all, for these. As that martyr told him that asked whether he did not love his wife and children, and was not loath to part with them, 'Yes,' saith he, 'I love them so dearly, that I would not part with any of them for all that the Duke of Brunswick—whose subject he was —is worth; but for Christ's sake and his truth, farewell to them all.'
2. Answer. Labour to get thy heart more and more infired with the love of God, and this will work in thee a dear love to his truth. Love observes what is precious and dear to its beloved, and loves it for his sake. David's love to Jonathan made him inquire for some of his race, that he might show kindness to, for his sake. Love to God will make the soul inquisitive to find out what is near and dear to God—that by showing kindness to it, he may express his love to him. Now upon a little search, we shall find that the great God sets a very high price upon the head of truth. 'For thou hast magnified thy word above all thy name,' Ps. 138:2. That is God's name, by which he is
known. Every creature hath God's name upon it—by it God is known —even to the least pile of grass. But to his word, and truth therein written, he hath given pre-eminence above all other things that bear his name. Take a few considerations whereby we may a little conceive of the high value God sets of truth.
(1.) God, when he vouchsafeth his word and truth to a people, makes account that he gives them one of the greatest mercies they can receive or he give; he calls them 'the great things' of his 'law,' Hosea 8:12. A people that enjoy his truth, are by Christ's own judgment 'lift up to heaven.' Whatever a people have at God's hands, without this, bears no more comparison with it than Hagar's loaf of bread and bottle—which was Ishmael's portion—would with Isaac's inheritance. God, that knows how to prize and rate his own gifts, saith of his word which he showeth to Jacob, and testimonies he gives to Israel, that 'he hath not dealt so with any nation,' Ps. 147:20; that is, not so richly and graciously. (2.) Consider God's especial care to preserve his truth. Whatever is lost, God looks to his truth. In shipwrecks at sea, and scare-fires at land, when men can save but little, they use to choose not lumber, and things of no worth, but what they esteem most precious. In all the great revolutions, changes, and overturning of kingdoms, and churches also, God hath still preserved his truth. Thousands of saints' lives have been taken away, but that which the devil spites more than all the saints, yea, which alone he spites them for, is his truth. This lives and shall, to triumph over his malice. And sure, if truth were not very dear to God, he would not be at this cost to keep it with the blood of his saints; yea, which is more, the blood of his Son, whose errand into the world was by life and death 'to bear witness to the truth,' John 18:37. In a word, in that great and dismal conflagration of heaven and earth, when the elements shall melt for heat, and the world come to its fatal period, then truth shall not suffer the least loss, but 'the
word of the Lord endureth for ever,' I Peter 1:24. (3.) Consider the severity of God to the enemies of truth. A dreadful curse is denounced against those that shall take away from it, or add to the least of it—that embase or clip this heavenly coin, Rev. 22:18. The one pulls upon him all the plagues that are written in the word of truth; from the other shall be taken away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and from the things—that is, the good things of the promises —which are written in this book. All these speak at what a high rate God values truth; and no wonder, if we consider what truth is—that truth which shines forth from the written word. It is the extract of God's thoughts and counsels which from everlasting he took up, and had in his heart to effect. Nothing comes to pass but as an accomplishment of this his word. It is the most full and perfect representation that God himself could give of his own being and nature to the sons of men, that, by it, we might know him and love him. Great princes used to send their pictures by their ambassadors to those whom they woo for marriage. God is such an infinite perfection, that no hand can draw him forth to life but his own, and this he hath done exactly in his word; from which all his saints have come to be enamoured with him. He that abandons the truth of God, renounceth the God of truth. Though men cannot come to pull God out of his throne, yet they come as near this as it is possible, when they let out their wrath against the truth. In this they do, as it were, execute God in effigy. There is reason we see why God should so highly prize his truth, and that we that love him should cleave to it.
3. Answer. Be much in the meditation of the transcendent excellency of truth. 'The eye affects the heart;' this is the window at which love enters. Never any that had a spiritual eye to see truth in her native beauty, but had a heart to love her. This was the way that David's heart was ravished with the love of the word of truth: 'O how
love I thy law! it is my meditation all the day,' Psalms 119:97. While his thoughts were on it, his love was drawn to it. David found a great difference betwixt meditating on the truth's of God's word, and other excellences which the world cries up so highly. When he goes to entertain himself with the thoughts of some perfection in the creature, he finds it but a jejune, dry subject compared with this. He soon tumbles over the book of the world's excellences, and can find no notion that deserves any long stay upon it; 'I have seen' saith he, 'an end of all perfections;' he is at the world's end presently, and in a few thoughts can see to the bottom of all the world's glory; but when he takes up the truths of God into his thoughts, now he meets with work enough for his admiration and sweet meditation—'Thy commandment is exceeding broad.' Great ships cannot sail in narrow rivers and shallow waters, neither can minds truly great with the knowledge of God and heaven, find room enough in the creature to turn and expatiate themselves in. A gracious soul is soon aground and at a stand when upon these flats; but let it launch out into the meditation of God, his word, the mysterious truths of the gospel, and he finds a place of broad waters, sea-room enough to lose himself in. I might here show you the excellency of divine truths from many heads. As from the source and spring-head whence they flow, the God of truth; or from their opposite, that misshapen monster, error, c. But I shall only direct your meditation to a few enamouring properties which you shall find in these truths. You may meet a heap of them together in Psalm 19:7, and so on.
Truth is 'pure;' this made David love it, Ps. 119:140. It is not only pure, but makes the soul pure and holy that embraceth it. 'Sanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth,' John 17:17. It is the pure water that God washeth foul souls clean with. 'I will sprinkle clean water upon you and ye shall be clean, from all your
filthiness...will I cleanse you,' Eze. 36:25. Foul puddle-water will as soon make the face, as error make the soul, clean.
Truth is 'sure,' and hath a firm bottom, Ps. 19:7. We may lay the whole weight of our souls upon it and yet it will not crack under us. Cleave to truth and it will stick to thee. It will go with thee to prison, banishment, yea, stake itself and bear thy charges wherever thou goest upon her errand. 'Not one thing,' saith Joshua, 'hath failed of all the good things which the Lord your God spake concerning you; all are come to pass unto you, and not one thing hath failed thereof,' Joshua 23:14. Whatever you find there promised count it money in your purse. 'Fourscore years,' said Polycarp, 'I have served God, and found him to be a good master.' But when men think by forsaking the truth to provide well for themselves, they are sure to meet with disappointments. Many have been flattered from truth with goodly promises, and then served no better than Judas was by the Jews, after he had betrayed his Master into their bloody hands, 'look thou to that.' Though persecutors love the treason, yet they hate the traitor. Yea, oft—to show their devilish malice—they, when some have got to wound their consciences by denying the truth, have most cruelly butchered them, and gloried in it, as a full revenge to destroy the soul and body together. Again,
Truth is 'free,' and makes the soul 'free' that cleaves to it. 'The truth shall make you free,' John 8:32. Christ tells the Jews of a bondage they were in, which that brag people never dreamed on. 'Ye are of your father the devil, and his lusts you will do,' ver. 44. Such slaves are all sinners. They must do what the devil will have them, and dare no more displease him, than a child his father with a rod in his hand. Some witches have confessed that they have been forced to send out their imps to do mischief to others that they might have ease themselves; for till they did send them abroad upon such an
errand they were themselves tormented by them. And he who hath a lust sucking on him, finds as little rest if he be not always serving of it, and making provision for it. Can the world, think you, show such another slave as this poor wretch is? Well, though all the bolts that the devil hath—lusts I mean—were locked upon one sinner, and he shut up in the closet dungeon of all his prison, yet let but this poor slave begin to be acquainted with the truth of Christ, so as to open his heart to it, and close with it, and you shall soon hear that the foundations of the prison are shaken, its doors thrown open, and the chains fallen off the poor creature's legs. Truth cannot itself be bound, nor will it dwell in a soul that lies bound in sin's prison; and therefore when once truth and the soul are agreed, or rather Christ and the soul, who are brought together by 'truth,' then the poor creature may lift up his head with joy, for his redemption and jaildelivery from this spiritual bondage draws nigh; yea, the day is come, the key is in the lock already to let him out. It is impossible we should be acquainted with 'truth as it is in Jesus' and be mere strangers to this liberty that attends it, Eph. 4:19-21.
In a word, truth is victorious. It is great, and shall prevail at last. It is the great counsel of God, and though many fine plots and devices are found in the hearts of men—which show what they would do —yet the counsel of the Lord shall stand. All their eggs are addled when they have set longest on them. Alas! they want power to hatch what their malice sits brooding on. Sometimes, I confess, the enemies to 'truth' get the militia of this lower world into their hands, and then truth seems to go to the ground, and those that witness to it are even slain; yet then it is more than their persecutors can do to get them laid underground in their grave, Rev. 11:9. Some that were never thought on, shall strike in on truth's side, and forbid the burial. Persecutors need not be at cost for marble to write the memorial of their victories in, dust will serve well enough, for they
are not like to last so long. 'Three days and a half' the witnesses may lie dead in the streets, and truth sit disconsolate by them; but within a while they are walking, and truth triumphing again. If persecutors could kill their successors, then their work might be thought to stand strong, needing not to fear another to pull down what they set up, and yet then their work would lie as open to heaven, and might be as easily hindered, as theirs at Babel. Who loves not to be on the winning side? Choose truth for thy side, and thou hast it. News may come that truth is sick, but never that it is dead. No, it is error is short lived. 'A lying tongue is but for a moment;' but truth's age runs parallel with God's eternity. It shall live to see their heads laid in the dust, and to walk over their graves, that were so busy to make one for her. Live, did I say? yea, reign in peace with those who now are willing to suffer with and for it. And wouldst thou not, Christian, be one among that goodly train of victors, who shall attend on Christ's triumphant chariot into the heavenly city, there to take the crown, and sit down in thy throne with those that have kept the field, when Christ and his truth were militant here on earth? Thus, wouldst thou but in thy thoughts wipe away the tears and blood which now cover the face of suffering truth, and present it to thy eye as it shall look in glory, thou couldst not but cleave to it with a love 'stronger than death.'
DIRECTION SECOND. If yet there remains any qualm of fear on thy heart, from the wrath of bloody men threatening thee for thy profession of the truth, then to a heart inflamed with the love of truth, labour to add a heart filled with the fear of that wrath which God hath in store for all that apostatize from the truth. When you chance to burn your finger, you hold it to the fire, which being a greater fire draws out the other. Thus when thy thoughts are scorched and thy heart seared with the fire of man's wrath, hold them awhile to hell-fire, which God hath prepared for the fearful,
Rev. 21:8, and all that run away from truth's colours, Heb. 10:39, and thou wilt lose the sense of the one for fear of the other. Ignosce imperator, said the holy man, in carcerem Deus gehennam minatur— pardon me, O emperor, if I obey not thy command; thou threatenest a prison, but God a hell. Observable is that of David, 'Princes have persecuted me without a cause: but my heart standeth in awe of thy word,' Ps. 119:161. He had no cause to fear them that had no cause to persecute him. One threatening out of the word—that sets the point of God's wrath to his heart—scares him more than the worst that the greatest on earth can do to him. Man's wrath, alas, when hottest, is but a temperate climate to the wrath of the living God. They who have felt both have testified as much. Man's wrath cannot hinder the access of God's love to the creature, which hath made the saints sing in the fire in spite of their enemies' teeth. But the creature under God's wrath, is like one shut up in a close oven—no crevice open to let any of the heat out, or any refreshing in to him.
DIRECTION V.—SECOND GENERAL PART.
[TRUTH OF HEART OR SINCERITY AS A GIRDLE FOR THE WILL.]
'Having your loins girt about with truth.'
We come now to the second kind of truth—commended to the Christian under the notion of the soldier's girdle—and that is, truth of heart. Where it would be known, FIRST. What I mean by truth of heart. SECOND. Why truth of heart is compared to a girdle.
FIRST. What I mean by truth of heart. By truth of heart, I understand sincerity, so taken in Scripture, 'Let us draw near with a true heart,' that is, with a sincere heart, Heb. 10.22. We have them oft conjoined, the one explaining the other: 'Fear the Lord, and serve him with sincerity and truth,' Joshua 24:14. We read of 'the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth,' I Cor. 5:8. Hypocrisy is a lie with a fair cover over it. An insincere heart is a half heart. The inward frame and motion of the heart comports not with the profession and behaviour of the outward man, like a clock, whose wheels within go not as the hand points without.
SECOND. Why truth of heart is compared to a girdle. Sincerity, or truth of heart, may fitly be compared to a girdle, in regard of the twofold use and end for which a girdle, especially a soldier's belt, is worn.
First. The girdle is used as an ornament put on uppermost, to cover the joints of the armour, which would, if seen, cause some uncomeliness. Here—at the loins I mean—those pieces of armour for the defence of the lower parts of the body are fastened to the upper. Now because they cannot be so closely knit and clasped, but there will be some little gaping betwixt piece and piece, therefore they used to put over those parts a broad girdle, that covered all that uncomeliness. Now, sincerity doth the same for the Christian, that the girdle doth for the soldier. The saint's graces are not so close, nor his life so exact, but in the best there are found infirmities and defects, which are as so many gapings and clefts in his armour, but sincerity covers all, that he is neither put to shame for them, nor exposed to danger by them.
Second. The girdle was used for strength. By this his loins were staid, and united, and the soldier to fight or march. As a garment,
the closer it sits, the warmer it is; so the belt, the closer it is girt, the more strength the loins feel. Hence God, threatening to enfeeble and weaken a person or people, saith 'their loins shall be loosened.' 'I will loose the loins of kings,' Isa. 45:1; and, 'he weakeneth the strength of the mighty,' Job 12:21—Heb. 'he looseth the girdle of the strong.' Now sincerity may well be compared in this respect to the soldier's girdle. It is a grace that doth gird the soul with strength, and makes it mighty to do or suffer. Indeed it is the very strength of every grace. So much hypocrisy as is found cleaving to our graces, so much weakness. It is sincere faith, that is the strong faith; sincere love, that is the mighty love. Hypocrisy is to grace as the worm is to the oak—the rust to the iron—it weakens them, because it corrupts them. The metaphor thus opened affords these two doctrinal conclusions, in handling of which I shall comprise what I have to say further of this piece of armour. FIRST. That sincerity or truth of heart in all our ways covers all the Christian's uncomeliness. SECOND. That truth of heart or sincerity is of excellent use to strengthen the Christian in his whole course.
DIVISION FIRST.—SINCERITY COVERS THE CHRISTIAN'S UNCOMELINESS.
'Girt about with truth.'
Sincerity or truth of heart in all our ways covers all the Christian's uncomeliness. In handling this point, this is our method: FIRST. We shall inquire, which is the truth and sincerity that covers the Christian's uncomeliness. SECOND. We shall inquire, what uncomelinesses they are that sincerity covers. THIRD. How sincerity
covers them. FOURTH. Why sincerity doth this; or some account given for all this.
[What is the truth which covers the
Christian's uncomeliness.]
FIRST INQUIRY. Which is that truth and sincerity that covers all uncomelinesses and deficiencies in the Christian. Here we must distinguish of a twofold sincerity, one moral, another evangelical.
[Moral truth and uprightness.]
First kind of sincerity. There is a moral truth, and uprightness, which we may call a field flower, because it may be found growing in the wild and waste of nature. It cannot be denied, but one that hath not a dram of sanctifying saving grace, may show some kind of uprightness and truth in his actions. God himself comes in as a witness for Abimelech, that what he did in taking Sarah, was in the uprightness of his heart: 'I know,' saith God, 'that thou didst this in the integrity of thy heart,' Gen. 20:6, that is, thou didst mean honestly as to this particular business, and didst not intend any wrong to Abraham, whose wife she was unknown to thee. Joab, though a bloody man, yet dealt very uprightly and squarely with David concerning the rendition of Rabbah, when he had a fair advantage of stealing away the honour from his prince to himself. Many such instances may be given of men that have been great strangers to a work of grace on their hearts; but this is not the uprightness that we mean in the point laid down. It doth indeed render a person very lovely and amiable before men to be thus upright and honest in his dealings; but methinks I hear the Lord saying concerning such, as once he did to Samuel of Eliab, 'Look not on their countenance,' so as to think [that] these are they which he
accepts. No, he hath refused them; 'for the Lord seeth not as man seeth,' God's eye looks deeper than man's, I Sam. 16:7. There are two great defects in this uprightness which God rejects it for.
1. Defect. It grow, not from a good root—a renewed heart. This is a hair on the moral man's pen, which blurs and blots his copy, when he writes fairest. It is like the leprosy to Naaman; that same 'but he was a leper,' took away the honour of his greatness at court, and [of his] prowess in the field. So here it stains the fairest actions of a mere moral man—'But he is a Christless, graceless person.' The uprightness of such does others more good in this world than themselves in another. They are by this moral honesty profitable to those that have civil commerce with them; but it doth not render themselves acceptable to God. Indeed, had not God left some authority in conscience to awe and keep men, that have no grace, within some bounds of honesty, this world would have been no more habitable for the saints, than the forest of wild beasts is now for man. And such is the uprightness of men void of sanctifying grace. They are rather rid by an overpowering light of conscience that scares them, than sweetly led by an inward principle inclining them to take complacency in that which is good. Abimelech himself—for whom, as we heard, God so apologized—is yet let to know that his honesty in that matter came rather from God's restraint upon him, than any real goodness in him. I also withheld thee from sinning against me; therefore suffered I thee not to touch her, Gen. 20:6.
2. Defect. This moral uprightness falls short of the chief end indispensably necessary to make a person upright indeed. This is 'the glory of God,' I Cor. 10:31. 'Whatever ye do, do all to the glory of God.' The archer may lose his game by shooting short, as well as by shooting wide. The gross hypocrite shoots wide, the uprightest moralist shoots short. He may, and oft doth, take his aim right as to
the particular and immediate end of his action, but ever fails in regard of the ultimate end. Thus, a servant may be faithful to his master, scorn to wrong him of a farthing, yea, cordially seek his master's profit; and yet God may not be looked at or thought of in all this, and so all is worth nothing, because God, who is principally to be regarded, is left out of the story. Servants are commanded to do their 'service as to the Lord and not to men,' that is, not only, not chiefly to man, Eph. 6:7. It is true, the master is to be looked at in the servant's duty, but in this way, only as it leads to the glory of God. He must not, when he hath desired to please his earthly master, sit down as at his journey's end, but pass on—as the eye doth through the air and clouds to the sun where it is terminated —to God, as the chief end why he is dutiful and faithful to man. Now no principle can lead the soul so high as to aim at God, but that which comes from God. See both these excellently couched together. 'That ye may be sincere,…being filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus Christ unto the glory and praise of God,' Php. 1:10, 11. Where you may observe: (1.) That the sincerity of the right stamp, is that which brings forth fruits of righteousness to the praise of God, that is, where the glory of God is the end of all our actions. (2.) That such fruit cannot be borne, but 'by Christ.' The soul must be planted into Christ, before it can be thus sincere, to bear fruits of righteousness to the praise of God. Hence these fruits of righteousness are said to be 'by Jesus Christ.' What men do by themselves, they do for themselves. They eat their own fruit, devour the praise of what they do. The Christian only that doth all by Christ, doth all for Christ. He hath his sap from Christ, into whom he is graffed, that makes him fruitful; and therefore he reserves all the fruit he bears for him. Thus we see how this mortal uprightness is itself fundamentally defective, and therefore cannot be that girdle which hides and covers our other defects. Yet before I pass on to the other, I would leave a twofold caution for improvement of what hath
been said concerning this uprightness. The one is to the sincere Christian, the other is to such as have no more than a moral uprightness.
[A twofold caution.]
1. Caution. To the sincere Christian. May there be found a kind of uprightness among men that are carnal and destitute of God's sanctifying grace? O then look you to it, in whose hearts dwells the Spirit of grace, that you be not put to shame by those that are graceless, which you must needs be when you are taken tardy in those things that they cannot be charged for. Many among them there are, that scorn to lie. Shall a saint be taken in an untruth? Their moral principles bind them over to the peace, and will not suffer them to wrong their neighbour; and can cheating, overreaching oppression follow a saint's hand? Except your righteousness exceeds their best, you are not Christians. And can you let them exceed you in those things, which, when they are done, leave them short of Christ and heaven? It is time for the scholar to throw off his gown, and disclaim the name of an academic, when every school-boy is able to dunce and pose him; and for him also to lay aside his profession, and let the world know what he is, yea, what he never was, who can let a mere civil man, with his weak bow only backed with moral principles, outshoot him that pretends to Christ and his grace. I confess it sometimes so falls out, that a saint under a temptation may be outstripped by one that is carnal in a particular case; as a lackey, that is an excellent footman, may, from some prick or present lameness in his foot, be left behind by one that at another time should not be able to come near him. We have too many sorrowful examples of moral men's outstripping even a saint at a time, when under a temptation. A notable passage we meet with concerning Abimelech's speech to Sarah, after her dissembling and
equivocating speech, that Abraham was her brother. 'And unto Sarah he said'—that is, Abimelech said to her—'Behold, I have given thy brother a thousand pieces of silver; behold, he is to thee a covering of the eyes, unto all that are with thee, and with all other,' Gen. 20:16. Now mark the words which follow. 'Thus she was reproved.' How? where lies the reproof. Here are none but good words, and money to boot also. He promiseth protection to her and Abraham—none should wrong him in wronging her—and tells her what he had freely given Abraham. Well, for all this, we shall find sharp reproof, though lapped up in these sweet words, and silvered over with his thousand pieces. First. She was reproved by the uprightness of Abimelech in that business wherein she had sinfully dissembled. That he who was a stranger to the true God and his worship, should be so square and honest, as to deliver her up untouched, when once he knew her to be another man's wife, and not only so, but instead of falling into a passion of anger, and taking up thoughts of revenge against them, for putting this cheat upon him— which, having them under his power, had not been strange for a prince, to have done—for him to forget all this, and rather show such kindness and high bounty to them, this must needs send a sharp reproof home to Sarah's heart. Especially it must, considering that he a heathen did all this; and she—one called to the knowledge of God, in covenant with God, and the wife of a prophet—was so poorspirited, as, for fear of a danger which only her husband, and that without any great ground, surmised, to commit two sins at one clap— dissemble, and also hazard the loss of her chastity. The less of the two was worse than the thing they were so afraid of. These things, I say, laid together, amounted to such a reproof, as no doubt made her, and Abraham too, heartily ashamed before God and man. Again, Abimelech in calling Abraham her 'brother,' not her husband, did give her a smart rebuke, putting her in mind how with that word he had been deceived by them. Thus godly Sarah was reproved by a