Chapter 1 (continued, part 27)
Again observe, before pardon can be sealed he must 'forsake,' not this sin or that, but the whole 'way' of sin. 'Let the wicked forsake his way.' A traveller may step from one path to another, and still go on in the same way—leave a dirty, deep, rugged path, for one more smooth and even. So many, finding some gross sins uneasy, and too toilsome to their awakened consciences, step into a more cleanly path of civility; but alas! poor creatures, all they get is to go a little more easily and cleanly to hell than their beastly neighbours. But he forsakes the way of sin that turns out of the whole road. In a word, thou must forsake the blindest path of all in sin's way —that which lies behind the hedge, as I may so say, in the thoughts of the heart—'and the unrighteous man his thoughts;' or else thou knockest in vain at God's door for pardoning mercy; and therefore, poor soul, forsake all or none. Save one lust and you lose one soul. If men mean to go to hell, why are they so mannerly? This halving with sin is ridiculous. Art thou afraid of this sin, and not of a less, which hinders thy peace, and procures thy damnation as sure, only not with so much distraction to thy drowsy conscience at present? This is as ridiculous as it was with him, who, being to be hanged, desired that he might by no means go through such a street to the gallows, for fear of the plague that was there. What wilt thou get, poor sinner, if
thou goest to hell, though thou goest thither by thy ignorance, unbelief, spiritual pride, c., yet led about so as to escape the plague of open profaneness? O sirs, consider but the equity, the honourableness of the terms that God offers peace upon. What lust is so sweet or profitable that is worth burning in hell for? Darius, when he fled before Alexander, that he might run the faster out of danger, threw away his massy crown from his head which hindered him; and is any lust so precious in thy eye that thou canst not leave it behind thee, rather than fall into the hands of God's justice? But so sottish is foolish man, that a wise heathen could take notice of it—we think we only buy what we part with money for, and as for those things we pay ourselves our souls for, these we think we have for nothing, as if the man were not more worth than his money! Having been faithful to follow the preceding directions, thou art now in a fair way to effect thy much desired enterprise. Therefore,
4. Direction. Hie thee, therefore, as soon as may be, to the throne of grace, and humbly present thy request to God that he would be at peace with thee, yea, carry with thee a faith that thou shalt find him more ready to embrace the motion than thou to make it. Take heed only, what thou makest thy plea to move God, and where thou placest thy confidence. Not in thy repentance or reformation, this were to play the merchant with God; but know he expects not a chapman to truck with him, but a humble supplicant to be suitor to him. Nor his absolute mercy, as ignorant souls do. This is to take hold of the sword by the blade, and not by the hilt. Such will find their death and damnation from that mercy which they might be saved by, if they did take hold of it as God offers it them, and that is 'through Christ.' 'Let him take hold of my strength, that he may make peace with me; and he shall make peace with me,' Isa. 27:5. And where lies god's saving strength, but in Christ? He hath, 'laid strength' upon this 'mighty' one, 'able to save to the uttermost
all that come unto God.' It is not God's absolute power or mercy will help thee, but his covenant strength and mercy, and this is in Christ. Take hold of Christ and thou hast hold of God's arm; he cannot strike the soul that holds thereby.
Indeed, God's essential goodness is a powerful argument to persuade the poor soul to rely upon the promise in Christ for pardon —when he considers that God who promiseth peace to the believer, is a God whose very nature is forgiving, and mercy itself —but had there been no promise to engage this mercy to poor sinners through Christ, this would have been but cold comfort to have believed God was good. He could have damned the whole stock of Adam, and not called his essential goodness the least in question. It is no blot to the almightiness of his power that he doth not all he can. He could make more worlds, if he was so pleased, than he hath done; but we have no ground to believe he will, neither is he the less almighty because he does not. So he could have saved the fallen angels with the sons of lost man. He is not scanted in mercy for such a design, if he had thought it fit. But, having passed no promise for such a thing, the essential goodness of God affords the devils but little relief, or hope that he will do it. And yet God continues good. And, for aught I can find out of the word, they among the sons of men who, either throu gh simple ignorance of the gospel, or prejudice, which their proud reason hath taken up against the way it chalks out for making our peace with God, through Christ's satisfaction for us, do neglect Christ, or scornfully reject his satisfaction, and betake themselves to the absolute goodness and mercy of God, as the plea which they will make at Christ's bar for their pardon and salvation, shall find as little benefit from it as the devils themselves.
Suppose, friends, a prince should freely make a law, by which he will govern his people, and takes a solemn oath to keep close to it,
could a malefactor that is condemned by this law to die expect any relief by appealing from the law to the mercy and goodness of the prince's nature? I confess some have sped and saved their lives by taking this course. But it hath been, because either the prince was imprudent in making the law, or unfaithful in keeping his oath; neither of which can, without blasphemy, be imputed to God, infinitely wise and holy. He hath enacted a law, called the law of faith, for the saving poor sinners through Christ, and is under an oath to make it good both in the salvation of every one that believes on Christ, and damnation on every one that doth not believe: and, to make all sure, hath given Christ an oath to be faithful in his office; who was trusted as priest to secure redemption, and shall sit judge to pronounce the sentence at the great day of absolution or condemnation. Take heed, therefore, poor sinner, that thou beest not drawn from placing thy entire confidence on Christ the Son of God—both God and man in one person—who laid down his life upon agreement with his Father, to make an atonement for the sin of the world; and now offers thee that blood which then he shed, as a price to carry in the hand of thy faith to the Father, for pardon and peace. No, though they should come and call thee from Christ to Christ— from a Christ without thee, to a Christ within thee. As the Jesuit doth in the Quaker, into whom he is now got; as the friars of old were wont into their hollow images, viz. that they might deliver their lying doctrines out of the mouths of their reputed saints, and thereby cozen the multitude without any suspicion of their knavery. Just so do the Jesuits nowadays deliver their popish stuff out of the mouths of the Quakers—a design so much more dangerous as it is more cunning than the other. There is too much light shed abroad for that old puppet play to take. But, though men are too wise to lend an ear to a block or a stone, yet holiness in a living saint commands such reverence, that the devil hath ever found, and will, to the end of the world, that he may pass least suspected under this cloak. Well, when
he comes to call thee from a Christ without thee to a Christ within thee; strip the doctrine out of its pleasing phrase, and, in plain English, he calls thee from trusting in the righteousness of Christ wrought by him for thee, and by faith to be made thine for thy justification before God, to an inherent work of grace or righteousness wrought by the Spirit of God in thee for thy sanctification and renovation, called sometimes the 'new creature,' and 'Christ within us.' Now, hadst thou not made a goodly change if thou hadst let go thy hold on Christ, who is thy righteousness, to rely on a creature, and that a weak one too, God knows, full of so many imperfections that thy conscience —except injudicious and given over to believe a lie —can tell it is but a vein of gold embased with much more earth and dross, which shall never be quite purged till thou beest put into the refining pot of the grave. Look to thyself, Christian. Here it is a matter of life and death. Prize Christ's grace within thee thou must; yea thou hast none in thee, if thou dost not value it above all the mountains of gold the world hath. But trust not to this Christ or grace of Christ within thee for life and salvation; for now thou prizest the creature above God, and settest 'Christ within thee' to fight with 'Christ without thee.' The bride doth well highly to esteem her husband's picture which he hath given her, especially if very like him, and most of all, if drawn by his own hand; but it were very ridiculous if she should dote on that so far as to slight her husband, and, when she wants money, clothes, or the like, to go, not to her husband, but to the picture he gave her, for all. The saint's grace is called 'Christ within him,' because it is his picture, and makes the saint so like Christ. This, for the resemblance it bears to the holiness of Christ, himself thy husband, who with the finger of his own Spirit, drew it on thy soul, deserves highly to be valued. But, what a dotage were it for thee turn thy back on the Lord Jesus Christ himself, to whom by faith thou art married, and, when thou wantest pardon and comfort —wouldst have heaven and happiness—to
expect these, not from Christ, but from thy grace? O will Christ thank thee for honouring his creature to the dishonour of his person?
[Exhortations to those already
at peace with God.]
A few words by way of improvement to you whose peace with God is concluded with Christ.
First. Hast thou peace with God?—look thou makest no peace with sin. This broke thy peace with God; now let thy peace with God begin a war with that never to have end. Thou canst not, sure, forget the inestimable wrong and damage thou hast suffered by it. Every moment's sweet enjoyment of God —whose bosom-love thou hast now happily recovered—will help to keep the fire of wrath and revenge burning in thy heart against that cursed enemy, that both threw and kept thee so long thence. God hath now won thy heart, I hope, by his pardoning mercy, dearly to love him for his love to thee. How then canst thou with patience see any lust come braving forth from its trench—thy heart I mean—defying thy God and his grace in thee? Paul's spirit was stirred in him at Athens to see God dishonoured by the superstition of others; and is not thine, to see him reproached by the pride, unbelief, and other sins, that do it from under thy own soul's roof? O Christian, meditate some noble exploit against it. Now, the more to steel thy heart, and harden it against all relenting towards it, carry the blood and wounds of thy Saviour into the field with thee, in the hand of thy faith. The sight of those will certainly enrage thy heart against thy lusts, that stabbed and killed him, more than the bloody garments of Cæsar, held up by Antony, did the Roman citizens against his murderers. O see how cruelly they used the Lord of glory, and where they laid him in an ignominious grave —and that fastened with a seal, stronger than that
which man set to it—the curse due to us sinners, never possible to have been broke up by any less than his own almighty arm! And now, Christian, shall these murderers, not of man, but of God—for it was the blood of God that was shed—escape that vengeance which God would have done with thy hand upon them? Wherefore else doth he leave thee any life in thy soul but that thou shouldst have the opportunity of showing thy love to Christ by running thy dagger of mortification into their heart? Alexander got no more honour by his great victories in the field than by his piety to his dead father Philip, whose bloody death he avenged as soon as he came into the throne, slaying the murderers upon his father's tomb. O, show thou, Christian, thy pity to thy dear Saviour by falling upon thy cursed lusts, and that speedily! Never rest till thou hast had their blood that shed his. Till thou dost this thou art consenting to all the cruelty that was executed on him. This, this is the 'honour' which all 'the saints shall have,' and therefore the 'two-edged sword' of the Spirit is put into their hands that they may execute the vengeance written.
Second. Is God reconciled to thee? Be thou willing to be reconciled to any that have wronged thee. Thy God expects it at thy hands. Thou hast reason to pardon thy brother for God's sake, who pardoned thee for his pure mercies' sake. Thou, in pardoning, dost no more than thou owest thy brother, but God pardoned thee when he did owe thee nothing but wrath. Thou needest not, I hope, think that thou dishonourest thyself in the act, though it be to the veriest beggar in the town. Know thou dost it after thy betters. Thy God stooped lower when he reconciled himself to thee, yea, sought it at thy hands, and no dishonour, neither, to the high and lofty One. Nay, by implacableness and revenge, thou debasest thyself the most thou canst likely do; for, by these, thou stoopest not only beneath thy heaven-born nature, but beneath thy human nature. It is the devil, and none but such as bear his image, that are implacable enemies.
Hell-fire it is that is unquenchable. 'The wisdom from above' is 'easy to be entreated.' Thou a Christian, and carry hell-fire about thee! How can it be? When we see a child, that comes of merciful parents, furious and revengeful, we use to say, 'We wonder of whom he got his currish, churlish disposition, his father and mother were not so.' Who learns thee, O Christian, to be so revengeful and unmerciful? Thou hast it not of thy heavenly Father, I am sure.
Third. Is God at peace with thee? Hath he pardoned thy sins? Never, then, distrust his providence for anything thou wantest as to this life. Two things, well weighed, would help thy faith in this particular.
1. When he pardoned thy sins he did more for thee than this comes to. And, did he give the greater, and will he grudge thee the less? Thou hast Christ in thy pardon bestowed on thee. 'How shall he not with him also freely give thee all things?' Rom. 8:32. When the father gives his child the whole orchard, it were folly to question he gives him this apple or that in it —'all things are yours,' and 'ye are Christ's,' I Cor. 3:22. The reconciled soul hath a right to all. The whole world is his. But, as a father who, though he settles a fair estate on his child, yet lets him hold no more in his own hand than he can well manage; so God gives believers a right to all the comforts of this life, but proportions so much out to them for their actual use, as his infinite wisdom sees meet, so that he that hath less than another in his present possession, ought to impute it not to any want of love or care in God, but to the wisdom both of his love and care, that gives stock as we have grace to work it out. We pour the wine accordingly as the cup is. That which but fills one would half be lost if poured into a less.
2. Consider how God gives these temporals to those he denies peace and pardon to. Though, within a while, they are to be tumbled into hell, yet while on earth his providence reacheth unto them. And, doth God feed these 'ravens,' unclean birds? Doth he cause his rain to drop fatness on their fields, and will he neglect thee, thinkest thou, that art a believer? If the prince feeds the traitor in prison, surely the child in his house shall not starve. In a word, to allude to that, Luke 12:28, if God in his providence so abounds to the to the ungodly, as we see he doth, if he 'so clothe the grass,' for to this the wicked may well be compared, 'which is to-day in the field, and tomorrow is cast into hell's burning oven, how much more will he clothe you, O ye of little faith?'
Fourth. Art thou at peace with God? O show then no discontent at any cross or affliction that God visiteth thee withal! If he hath visited thee first with his mercy, thou hast reason to bid him kindly welcome when he comes to visit thee with his rod. Thou hast sugar by thee now to sweeten thy bitter cup. When the Prophet Samuel came to Bethlehem, it is said, 'The elders of the town trembled at his coming, and said, Comest thou peaceably? And he said, Peaceably!' I Sam. 16:4, 5. Thus when God comes with some heavy affliction to us, it may make us tremble till we know what it comes for, whether peaceable or no. Now, if thou beest at peace with God the fear is over, it cannot but come peaceably; thou mayest conclude it comes on mercy's errand.
What condition canst thou, O pardoned soul, be in, that should part thee and the joy of thy peace with God? Is it the wrath of man thou fearest? Possibly thou hast many enemies, and those great ones, and their wrath as great as such can express. Let it be so. Is God among them or no? Doth God let out their wrath in his wrath against thee? If not, thou exceedingly wrongest God, if overmuch
troubled, and thyself also. Thou wrongest God by not sanctifying his name in thy heart, whose mercy, I hope, is able to secure thee from their wrath: 'If God be for us, who can be against us?' Rom. 8:31. Thou needest not fear them though an army of them were about thee —no more than if they were so many wisps of straw. And thou wrongest thyself also: for how, indeed, can we wrong God and not ourselves? So long as thou art under the power of such a fear from man's wrath, thou canst never have the taste of God's love in its true sweetness.
Again, art thou sick, poor, and what not beside? May not God reasonably expect that reconciling mercy should stop thy mouth from whispering any word of discontent against him, and prevent all envious glances of thy eye at the prosperity of the wicked? Remember, man, that thou canst say one great word which they cannot, in the midst of all their pomp and worldly glory. 'Though I lie here poor and sick, yet I am, through mercy, at peace with God.' This, well thought on, would soon change both your notes—the joy of the prosperous sinner into bitter mourning, and thy sorrow, Christian, into joy. The Lady Elizabeth —afterwards England's gracious queen—hearing a simple milk-maid sing merrily in the field, when the poor princess, being then a sorrowful prisoner, had more mind to sigh than sing, though served at the same time in state as a princess, said, 'That poor maid was happier than herself.' And so would the sinner, how great and high soever in the world, think the poorest Christian, with his rags and penury, a better man, and happier in his liberty, and peace with God, than himself in all his grandeur and worldly gaieties, did he but consider that in the midst of all these he is a prisoner, not to man, but God, out of whose hands there is no escaping.
Fifth. Comfort thyself with this, that thou, who art at peace with God now on earth, shalt feast with God ere long in heaven. 'And whom he justified, them he also glorified,' Rom. 8:30. And do not think this news to be too good or great to be true. Here is a word for it, you see. Heaven's number of glorified saint's is made up of justified sinners. Neither more nor less of the one than of the other. Art thou justified by faith, by which thou hast peace with God? Then, lose not thy privilege, but rejoice with thy fellow-saints, 'in hope of the glory of God.' It is before thee. Every day brings thee nearer to it, and nothing can hinder thee of it at last. Not thy sins themselves, and I know thou fearest them most. He that paid thy great score at thy conversion will find mercy enough in his heart, surely, to pass by thy dribbling debts, which thy own infirmity, and Satan's subtlety, have run thee into. Thou wert an enemy when God thought of doing the first, but now thou art a friend; and this will oblige him to do the second, that he may not lose his disbursement in the first; yea, provision is made by God in this method of our salvation for the one, as strongly as for the other. Christ died to make us, of enemies to God, friends with him, and he lives now to bring God and us, being thus made friends, to meet in one heaven together. Yea, the apostle gives the advantage to this of the two for our faith to triumph in. 'For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life,' Rom. 5:10. As if the apostle had said, 'Can you believe that God hath taken you that were bloody enemies, into a state of peace and favour with himself? Surely, then, you must needs find it easier for your faith to argue from reconciliation to salvation, than from hostility to enmity to pardon and peace. Could Christ procure the one by his death, when he was weakest, as I may so say, and at the lowest descent of his humiliation; how much more shall he, in the height of his court-favour in heaven —when he hath all power given him, and in particular 'the keys of the hell and death' to open and shut as he
pleaseth—to be able to save those whom he hath reconciled?' Rev. 1:18.
Sixth. Art thou at peace with God? Knowing the goodness of God to thyself, then do thou woo in some others to embrace the same mercy. The house is not so full, but 'yet there is room,' Luke 14:22. Hast thou none thou lovest so well as to wish them thy happiness? Haply, thou hast a carnal husband lying by thy side, children of thy womb or loins, neighbours in whose company thou art every day almost, and all these in an unreconciled state—who, should they die as now they live, their precious souls are lost for ever, and yet themselves think no more of this misery coming on them, than the silly sheep doth, as to what the butcher is doing, when he is whetting his knife to cut her throat. Well, the less merciful they are to their own souls, the more need there is thou shouldst show thy compassion towards them. We take most care of those that are least capable of taking care for themselves. If thou hadst a friend sick in thy house, and of such a disease that he could not help himself, should he die rather than thou wouldst look after him? If a child were condemned to die, though he did himself not mind the getting of a pardon, yet surely thou wouldst run and ride to obtain it, rather than see him end his days so shamefully. In a word, didst thou but know thy next neighbour had an intention to foredo himself, and for that end had locked himself up in a room, wouldst thou not bestir thee to break up the door, rather than the man should thus miscarry? But alas, where is the holy violence that is used to save poor souls? Parents, husbands, neighbours, they can see their relations going to hell before their eyes, and who saith to them, Why do you so? O, for the Lord's sake, be more merciful to the souls of others. Thou hast found a feast, let not any that are near thee starve for want of knowing where it is to be had. Go and invite all thou canst see to God's house. So did David: 'O taste and see that the
Lord is good,' Ps. 34:8. Thou needst not fear a chiding from God for sending him more guests. He complains he hath no more. 'Ye will not come to me, that ye might have life,' John 5:40. He threatens those that keep sinners off from making their peace with him, by flattering them with a false one, called a 'strengthening the hands of the wicked, that he should not return from his wicked way, by promising him life,' Eze. 13:22. O how acceptable a work then must it needs be to woo souls to Christ! The merchant is not angry for sending a customer into his warehouse that will buy what he hath taken so much cost and travail to get that he may sell. Nor will the physician blame any for bringing a patient to him, by whose cure he may let the world know his skill and art. And this is the great design Christ hath long had in particular prayed for, viz. 'that the world might believe he was sent of God,' John 17:21. What aims he at in the gathering in of souls by the grace of the gospel, but 'to take out of them a people' from the heap of sinners 'for his name,' Acts 15:14, that is, cull out a number, in showing mercy to whom he might exalt his own name gloriously.
SECOND KIND OF PEACE.
[PEACE OF CONSCIENCE the blessing of the gospel.]
We come now to the second kind of peace, and that is peace of consolation, or peace of conscience. By the former—peace of reconciliation—the poor sinner is reconciled to God; by this, he becomes anima pacata sibi—a soul reconciled to itself. Since man fell out with God, he could never be truly friends with his own conscience. This second peace is so necessary, that he cannot taste the sweetness of the first, nor indeed of any other mercy, without it. This is to the soul what health is to the body, it sugars and sweetens all enjoyments. A suit, though of cloth of gold, sits not easy on a sick
man's back. Nothing joyous to a distressed conscience. Moses brought good news to the distressed Israelites in Egypt, but it is said, 'They hearkened not unto Moses for anguish of spirit,' Ex. 6:9. Hannah, she went up to the festival at Jerusalem with her husband, but it is said, 'She wept, and did not eat,' I Sam. 1:7. Truly, thus the wounded soul goes to the sermon, but doth not eat of the feast before it; hears many precious promises, but her ear is shut up from receiving the good news they bring. Tell one in trouble of conscience, here is your dear husband, [your] sweet children, will you not rejoice with them; alas, the throes such a one feels are so amazing, that he regards these things no more than Phinehas' wife in her sore travail did the woman that joyed her with the birth of a son. Set the most royal feast before such a soul that ever was on prince's table, and, poor heart, it had rather go into a corner and weep, than sit and eat of those delicacies. 'A wounded spirit who can bear?' yea, who can cure? Some diseases are, for their incurableness, called ludibrium medicorum—the physician's shame and reproach. To be sure this spiritual trouble of an accusing conscience puts all the world to shame for their vain attempts. Many have attempted to conjure this evil spirit out of their own bosoms and others'; but have found it at last to leap upon them, and prevail against them, as the 'evil spirit' did by the sons of Sceva, Acts 19:14.
No, peace of conscience, I am now to show, is the blessing of the gospel, and only of the gospel. Conscience knows Jesus, and the gospel of Jesus; these and none else it will obey. Two particulars considered will demonstrate the truth of the point. First. If we consider what is the argument that pacifies and satisfies conscience. Second. If we consider what the power is and strength required to apply this argument so close and home to the conscience as to quiet and fully satisfy it. Both these will be found in the gospel, and only in the gospel.
[THE ARGUMENT which gives peace
to the conscience.]
First. Let us inquire what is the argument that is able to pacify conscience when thoroughly awakened. Now to know this, we must inquire what is the cause of all those convulsions of horror and terror with which the consciences of men are at any time so sadly rent and distorted. Now this is sin. Could this little word—but great plague— be quite blotted out of men's minds and hearts, the storm would soon be hushed, and the soul become a pacific sea, quiet and smooth, without the least wave of fear to wrinkle the face thereof. This is the Jonah which raiseth the storm—the Achan that troubles the soul. Wherever this comes, as was observed of a great queen in France, a war is sure to follow. When Adam sinned, he dissolved another manner of jewel than Cleopatra did, he drank away this sweet peace of conscience in one unhappy draught, which was worth more to him than the world he lived in, Heb. 10:2. No wonder that it rose in his conscience as soon as it was down his throat—'they saw that they were naked.' Their consciences reproached them for cursed apostates. That therefore which brings peace to conscience must prostrate this Goliath—throw this troubler overboard —pluck this arrow out of the soul—or else the war will not end, the storm will not down, the wound will not close and heal which conscience labours under. Now the envenomed head of sin's arrow, that lies burning in conscience, and, by its continual boking and throbbing there, keeps the poor sinner out of quiet—yea, sometimes in unsupportable torment and horror—is guilt. By it the creature is alarmed up to judgment, and bound over to the punishment due to his sin; which, being no less than the infinite wrath of the eternal living God, must needs lay the poor creature into a dismal agony, from the fearful expectation thereof in his accusing conscience. He, therefore, that
would use an argument to pacify and comfort a distressed conscience that lies roasting upon these burning coals of God's wrath kindled by his guilt, must quench these coals, and bring him the certain news of this joyful message—that his sins are all pardoned; and that God, whose wrath doth so affright him is undoubtedly, yea everlastingly, reconciled to him. This and no other argument will stop the mouth of conscience, and bring the creature to true peace with his own thoughts. 'Son, be of good cheer,' said Christ to the palsied man, 'thy sins be forgiven thee,' Matt. 9:2. Not, be of good cheer, thy health is given thee (thou gh that he had also); but, thy 'sins are forgiven thee.'
If a friend should come to a malefactor on his way to the gallows, put a sweet posy into his hands, and bid him 'be of good cheer, smell on that,' alas! this would bring little joy with it to the poor man's heart, who sees the place of execution before him. But if one comes from the prince with a pardon, which he puts into his hand, and bids him be of good cheer; this, and this only, will reach the poor man's heart, and overrun it with a sudden ravishment of joy. Truly, anything short of pardoning mercy is as inconsiderable to a troubled conscience towards any relieving or pacifying of it, as that posy in a dying prisoner's hand would be. Conscience demands as much to satisfy it as God himself doth to satisfy him for the wrong the creature hath done him. Nothing can take off conscience from accusing but that which takes off God from threatening. Conscience is God's sergeant he employs to arrest the sinner. Now the sergeant hath no power to release his prisoner upon any private composition between him and the prisoner, but listens whether the debt be fully paid, or the creditor be fully satisfied; then, and not till then, he is discharged of his prisoner. Well, we have now only one step to go further, and we will bring this demonstration to a head.
From what quarter comes this good news, that God is reconciled to a poor soul, and that his sins are pardoned? Surely from the gospel of Christ, and no other way besides. Here alone is the covenant of peace to be read betwixt God and sinners; here the sacrifice by which this pardon is purchased; here the means discovered by which poor sinners may have benefit of this purchase; and therefore here alone can the accusing conscience find peace. Had the stung Israelites looked on any other object besides the brazen serpent, they had never been healed. Neither will the stung conscience find ease with looking upon any besides Christ in the gospel promise. The Levite and the priest looked on the wounded man, but would not come near him. There he might have lain and perished in his blood for all them. It was the good Samaritan that poured oil into his wounds. Not the law, but Christ by his blood, bathes and supplies, closeth and cureth, the wounded conscience. Not a drop of oil in all the world to be got that is worth anything for this purpose besides what is provided and laid up in this gospel vial. There was abundance of sacrifices offered up in the Jewish church; yet, put all the blood of those beasts together which was poured out from first to last in that dispensation, and they were not able to quiet one conscience or purge away one sin. The 'conscience of sin,' as the apostle phraseth it, Heb. 10:2—that is, guilt in their conscience— would still have remained unblotted notwithstanding all these, if severed from what was spiritually signified by them. And the reason is given, ver. 4, 'for it is not possible that the blood of bulls and of goats should take away sins.' There is no proportion betwixt the blood of beasts, though it should swell into a river—a sea, and the demerit of the least sin. Man's sin deserves man's death, and that eternal, both of body and soul, in hell. This is the price God hath set upon the head of every sin. Now, the death of beasts being so far beneath this price which divine justice demands as satisfaction for the wrong sin doeth him, it must needs be as far beneath pacifying
the sinner's conscience —which requires as much to satisfy it, yea, the very same, as it doth to satisfy the justice of God himself. But in the gospel, behold, joyful news is brought to the sinner's ears, of a fountain of blood there opened, which for its preciousness is as far above the price that divine justice demands for man's, as the blood of bulls and beasts was beneath it, and that is the blood of Jesus Christ, who freely poured it out upon the cross, and by it 'obtained eternal redemption for us,' Heb. 9. This is the door all true peace and joy comes into the conscience by. Hence we are directed to bottom our confidence and draw our comfort here, and nowhere else: 'Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience,' Heb. 10:22. Mark that, 'sprinkled from an evil conscience.'
Conscience, by office, is appointed to judge of a man's actions and state, whether good or bad, pardoned or unpardoned. If the state be good, then it is to acquit and comfort; if evil, then to accuse and condemn him; therefore the 'evil conscience' here, is the accusing conscience. From this 'evil conscience' we are said to be 'sprinkled,' that is, freed by the blood of Christ sprinkled on us. It is sin the evil conscience accuseth of, and wrath, the due punishment for that, it condemns the poor creature unto; and to be sprinkled with the blood of Christ is to have the blood of Christ applied to the heart by the Spirit, for pardon and reconciliation with God. Sprinkling in the law did denote the cleansing of the person so sprinkled from all legal impurities; yea, the believing soul from all sinful uncleanness by the blood of Christ, which was signified by the blood of those sacrifices. Therefore David prays, 'Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean,' Ps. 51:7—that is, apply the blood of Christ to my troubled conscience, as they did with the bunch of hyssop did the blood of the beast into which it was dipped upon the leper, to cleanse him, 'then,' saith he, 'I shall be clean,' Lev. 14:6.
This sin, which now doth affright my conscience, shall be washed off, and I at peace, as if I had never sinned. To this sprinkling of blood the Holy Ghost alludes, where we are said in the gospel administration to be 'come...to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel,' Heb. 12:24, that is, 'better things' in the conscience. Abel's blood, sprinkled in the guilt of it upon Cain's conscience, spake swords and daggers, hell and damnation; but the blood of Christ sprinkled in the conscience of a poor trembling sinner speaks pardon and peace. Hence it is called 'the answer of a good conscience toward God, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ,' I Pet. 3:21. An answer supposeth a question, an 'answer toward God' supposeth a question from God to the creature. Now the question God here is supposed to propound to the poor creature may be conceived to be this, viz. what canst thou say —who art a sinner, and standest by the curse of my righteous law doomed to death and damnation—why thou shouldst not die the death pronounced against every sinner?
Now the soul that hath heard of Christ, and hearing of him hath received him by faith into his heart, is the person, and the only person, that can answer this question so as to satisfy God or himself. Take the answer as it is formed and fitted for, yea, put into the mouth of every believer, by the apostle Paul, 'Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us,' Rom. 8:34. Such an answer this is that God himself cannot object against it, and therefore St. Paul, representing all believers, triumphs in the invincible strength thereof against all the enemies of our salvation, 'who shall separate us from the love of Christ? ver. 35, and proceeds to challenge in death and devils, with all their attendants, to come and do their worst against believers who have got this breast-work
about them, and at last he displays his victorious colours, and goes out of the field with this holy confidence, that none—be they what they will—shall ever be able to hurt them: 'I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities,...shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord,' Rom. 8:38, 39. In him he lodgeth his colours, and lays up all his confidence. But I am afraid I have been too long; if I can be said to be too long on this subject—the richest vein in the whole mine of gospel treasure.
[THE POWER REQUIRED so to apply this argument
as to give peace of conscience.]
Second. This second demonstration is taken from the strength and power required to press this argument home to the conscience, so as to quiet and fully satisfy it. Conscience is a lock that goes hard; though the key fit it (I mean the argument used to comfort it be suitable and strong), yet, if this key be in a weak hand, that cannot turn it in this lock—as it is whenever a mere creature holds it— conscience will not open; its doubts and fears will not be resolved. No, this must be the work of the Spirit, or else it will never be done. Conscience is God's officer; and, though the debt be paid in heaven, yet it will not let the soul go free, till a warrant comes from thence to authorize it. And who can bring this but the Spirit of God? Thus as it is not in all their power that are about the poor prisoner to comfort him, till news come from court what the prince means to do with him; so here in this case. 'When he giveth quietness, who then can make trouble? and when he hideth his face, who then can behold him?' Job 34:29. Now two things I shall do for the bringing of this demonstration to a head. 1. I shall show that the gospel alone presents the Spirit of God to us under the notion of a Comforter. 2. I
shall show the admirable fitness and sufficiency of the Holy Spirit to pacify and comfort a guilty troubled conscience. The first will evince that peace of conscience is nowhere else to be found but from the gospel; the second will show that it is there abundantly to be found.
1. It is the gospel alone that presents the Spirit of God as a Comforter to poor sinners. Indeed the comforting office of the Spirit is founded on the satisfaction of Jesus Christ. When Christ had shed his blood, and in it laid down upon the nail the full price of a sinner's peace with God; then, at his return to heaven, he prays his Father to send the Comforter. Neither could Christ desire this request of his Father, nor his Father grant it to him, but upon the account of this his death, which secures the justice of God from receiving any damage by the comfort which the Spirit carries into the believing sinner's bosom. Christ tells his disciples thus much, 'If I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send him unto you,' John 16:7. Pray, mark the Spirit, as a Comforter, stays till Christ goes to heaven to send him down, and no room for Christ there, till the work was done he came about. And what was that, but, by his bloody death, to purchase peace with God for poor believing sinners? Now let him come when he will. The Spirit is ready to be sent as a comforter, as soon as he appears in the heavens with his blood as an intercessor. But whence then had the Old Testament saints all their peace and comfort, who lived before Christ returned to heaven, yea, before he took his first journey from heaven, I mean to earth? I answer, 'Upon the same account they had their comfort, that they had their pardon.' They were pardoned through the blood of Christ, who was virtually a lamb slain from the beginning of the world; and they were comforted by the Spirit of Christ, whose comforting office bears the same date with Christ's mediatorial office. As all their pardons were issued out upon the credit of Christ, who stood engaged in the fulness of time to lay down his life; so all
the comfort which the Spirit of Christ issued out into their consciences, was upon the same credit of Christ, who should, as in the fulness of time die on earth for sinners, so appear also in the heavens—by virtue of the satisfaction that his death should make— there to intercede with the Father for a comforter. Thus you see the first thing. The Spirit as a comforter hath his office from the gospel covenant, and could never have spoken a word of comfort, but upon this gospel account. Hence it is, when the Father sends him as a comforter, he sends him in Christ's name, who hath made up the breach betwixt him and sinners, John 14:26—that is, for his sake and at his entreaty. Yea, when the Spirit doth comfort, what is it he saith? The joyful news he brings is gospel intelligence, 'He shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak,' John 16:13. The meaning is [that] when he comes to teach, he shall not bring new light, different from what shines in the gospel, but what truth Christ preached in the gospel, that he shall teach. When he comforts, the ingredients which his soul-reviving cordials shall be made of, are what grow in the gospel garden, as ver. 14: 'He shall glorify me: for he shall receive of mine, and shall shew it unto you'— that is, my death, my merit, my resurrection, my ascension and intercession, my promises purchased and sealed with my blood— these he shall take and make report of to you, for your eternal joy and comfort. So that, if it had not been for these, the Spirit, who is Christ's messenger, would have wanted an errand of this comfortable nature to have brought unto poor sinners, yea, instead of a comforter, he would have been an accuser and a tormentor. He that now bears witness with our spirits for our reconciliation, adoption, and salvation, would have joined in a sad testimony with our guilty consciences against us, for our damnation and destruction.
2. I am to show the admirable fitness of the Spirit for this comforting office, which the gospel reveals him to have, for the
pacifying and satisfying the consciences of poor disconsolate sinners. You have heard the gospel affords an argument sufficient to satisfy the most troubled conscience in the world—to wit, the full satisfaction which Christ by his precious blood hath made to God for sinners—but, if poor man had been left to improve this as well as he could for his comfort, he might have lain long enough roaring in the horror of his scorched conscience without ease, for want of one to drop this cooling healing balm into it. But, as both the wisdom and love of God appeared in providing an able Saviour to purchase eternal redemption for us; so also a meet Comforter, as able to apply this purchased redemption to us. His consolations are called 'strong consolations.' Christ showed his strength, when he unhinged the gates of the grave, and made his way out of that dark prison by his glorious resurrection. By this he was 'declared to be the Son of God with power,' as the apostle hath it, Rom. 1:4. And truly, it requires no less power to break open the dungeon, wherein the guilty conscience lies shut up, as one free among the dead in his own despairing thoughts. For, if you observe it well, the same stone and seal are upon the sinner's conscience to keep him down from a resurrection of comfort, as was on Christ's grave to keep him down from a resurrection to life. What was the heaviest stone, the strongest seal, upon dead Jesus to keep him from rising? Not the stone man rolled upon him, not the seal the Jews thought to fasten the grave with, but the curse of the law for sin, which divine justice rolled upon him. This pressed heaviest upon Christ without all compare. The angel himself that rolled away the stone could not have removed the curse. Now, look in upon the distressed conscience's grave, where its own guilt hath laid it. What is that? no other than the lowest hell in its fears and present dismal apprehensions. I am damned, I am for ever an undone creature, is the language such a one rings continually in his own ears. But inquire, what is it that keeps him down in this grave? what hinders,
but the poor wretch may be helped out of this pit of horror, and receive some comfort? Alas he will tell you, that it is but in vain to comfort him; this ointment is all wasted to no purpose, which you pour upon his head. No, he is an undone sinner. The curse of God sticks like a dagger in his heart; the wrath of God lies like a mountain of lead on his conscience. Except you can put your hand into his bosom, and pluck out the one, or by main force roll off the other, it is impossible he should be raised to any peace or comfort in his miserable conscience. You see it is the same gravestone on both. But for thy eternal comfort know, poor heart, that art thus fast laid under the sense of the curse due to thy sins, know that as the weight that keeps thee from comfort is the same which lay on Christ to keep him from life; so the same power and strength is sent to raise thee to comfort, that enabled Christ to rise to life. That Spirit, who kept the Lord Jesus from seeing corruption in the grave; that restrained death, when it had Christ in its very mouth, so as it could no more feed on him than the whale could digest Jonah in her belly; yea that quickened his dead body, and raised him with honour, not only to life, but immortality also—is he that Christ sends for his messenger, to come and satisfy the trembling consciences of his poor children on earth concerning his love, yea his Father's love to them for his sake. This blessed Spirit hath all the properties of a comforter. He is also pure and holy, he cannot deceive; called therefore 'the Spirit of truth,' John 14. If he tell thee thy sins are pardoned, thou mayest believe him. He will not flatter. If thy were not so pardoned he would have brought another message to thee; for he can chide and reprove as well as comfort, convince of sin as well as of righteousness. He is so wise and omniscient, that he cannot be deceived. Never did the Spirit of God knock at the wrong doors, and deliver his letters into a wrong hand, as a man may do, especially where persons are very like. The Spirit exactly knows the heart of God to the creature, with all his counsels concerning him: 'The Spirit
searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God,' I Cor. 2:10. And what are those 'deep things of God' the apostle means, but the counsels of love, which lie deep in his heart, till the Spirit draws them forth and acquaints the creature with them? That appears by ver. 9. And he also knows the whole frame of man's heart. It were strange indeed if he that made the cabinet should not know every secret box in it. Some few men have compassed that we call the greater world. But the little world of man, as we call him, never did any creature encircle with his knowledge, no not the devil himself, who hath made it his work so many thousands of years to make a full discovery of it. But the Spirit of God doth know him, intus est in cute—as we say, thoroughly; and knowing both these, he cannot be deceived.
In a word, he is so unresistible, that none can hinder the efficacy of his comforts. The pardon brought by Nathan to David did not lie so close as the holy man desired; and therefore away goes he to beg comfort of the Comforter, Ps. 51. There you find him on his knees praying hard to have his lost joy restored, and his trembling heart established by the free Spirit of God. Though thou canst baffle man, and through thy own melancholy fancy, and the sophistry of Satan, who coins distinctions for thee, evade the arguments that Christians and ministers bring for thy comfort; yet, when the Spirit comes himself, all disputes end. The devil cannot chop logic with him. No; then the lying spirit vanisheth, and our own fears too, as the darkness flees before the sun. So sweetly and powerfully doth the comforting Spirit overrun the heart with a flood of joy that the soul can no more see her sins in the guilt of them, than Noah could the mole-hills when the whole earth was under water.
[A reproof to three sorts of persons.]
Use first. Is peace of conscience the blessing of the gospel? This reproves three sorts of persons.
1. Sort. The Papists, who interpretatively deny that peace of conscience is the blessing of the gospel, for they deny that any person can know in this life, unless by an extraordinary revelation, that he is a child of God, and one that shall be saved—which, if true, would stave all to pieces the vessel in which the Christian's joy and inward peace is kept. Whence comes the peace we have with our own consciences, but from the knowledge we have of our peace with God? 'Being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: by whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God,' Rom. 5:1. If the poor soul be left at uncertainties here, and the gospel cannot resolve to it what its state is for hell or heaven, farewell to all inward peace. The poor Christian may then say of himself, with a trembling heart, what St, John saith, in another case, of him that hateth his brother, 'He walketh in darkness, and knoweth not whither he goeth,' I John 2:11. Truly then the gospel might rather be called the gospel of fears and doubts, than the gospel of peace. But is that the top of the blessing the gospel brings to saints, which was almost the bottom of the curse that the law denounced against sinners?—that 'their life should hang in doubt before them; and they shall fear day and night, and should have no assurance of life,' Deut. 28:66. Bold men they are that dare so wretchedly disfigure the sweet face of the gospel; making Christ in his precious promises speak as doubtfully to his saints, as the devil did in his oracles to his devotees. Because their hypocrisy makes them justly question their own salvation, and will not suffer them to apply the comfort of the promises to themselves, must they therefore seal up these wells of salvation from those that are sincere, and then lay the blame on the gospel which is due only to their own wickedness? But there is a
mystery of iniquity which hath at last been found to be at the root of this uncomfortable doctrine of theirs. They are a little akin to Judas, who was a thief, and carried the bag. These have a bag, too, into which they put more gold and silver, that this doctrine brings them in, than ever Judas had in his. Though the doctrine of gospel-grace to poor sinners' would bring more peace to others' consciences — might it be seen in its naked glory among them —yet the superstitious fear which they keep ignorant souls in, brings more money to their purses; and this lies so near the heart of their religion, that gospel, Christ, heaven, and all, must bow unto it.
2. Sort. Those are to be reproved, who frame very unlovely images in their own foolish imaginations of the gospel—as if there was nothing less than peace of conscience and inward comfort to be found in it—and all, because they see some that profess it, who cannot show that they have got any more peace and comfort since their acquaintance with the gospel than they had before, or than themselves have who are yet strangers to it; yea may be, discover more trouble of spirit. Such I would desire to take these following particulars, by way of answer, into their serious consideration.
(1.) Consider all that are not true Christians that hang upon the gospel by profession. And no blame can be laid on the gospel, though it doth not lavish out this treasure to every one that scrapes acquaintance with it. The Spirit of God is too wise and faithful to set his seal to a blank. The minister indeed offers peace to all that will accept it. But where the peace of the gospel meets with a false heart, it will not stay there, 'If the house be not worthy, let your peace return to you,' Matt. 10:13. As the dove returned to the ark again, when it found the earth under water, so doth the Spirit of God carry his comfort back with him to heaven from a soul that is yet in the suds of sin, soaking in his abominations. Where can this heavenly
dove find rest for the sole of her foot in such a soul? And will he speak peace to that soul in which himself can find no rest?
(2.) As for those that are sincere, true-hearted Christians, there are several considerations which will vindicate the gospel to answer its name, and to be a gospel of peace and consolation.
(a) Some that are sincere Christians, do not so clearly understand the doctrine of the gospel as others; and the want of light, of joy, and comfort in their consciences comes from that want of light in their understandings. The ignorance of the workman doth not disparage the art. Plus est in arte, quam in artifice—there is more in an art than the attainment of the artist. There is a fulness of comfort in the principles of the gospel, but every Christian hath not attained to the 'riches of the full assurance of understanding, to the acknowledgment of the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ,' which the apostle directs the Colossians to, as a sovereign means whereby 'their hearts might be comforted,' Col. 2:2.
(b) Some that do understand the doctrine of salvation by faith in Christ—the only foundation to build and rear up true comfort and peace of conscience on—yet may, by their negligence in their Christian course—not walking carefully by the rule of the gospel— deprive themselves at present of this sweet peace, which otherwise might flow into their bosoms from the promises of the gospel. 'As many as walk according to this rule, peace be on them,' Gal. 6:16. And if so, what blame can be laid on the gospel? Be the pen never so good, and the hand never so skilful, it will not write on wet paper; yet we do not fault the hand or pen, but the paper. If the heart—though of a saint never so eminent —be under the defilement of a present lust, not repented of, no promise will speak peace to him; he is a
disorderly walker, and the Spirit hath his rod to whip such. No sweetmeats of joy and peace to entertain them withal in that night.
(3.) As for those which do walk close to the rule of the gospel—I mean by a sincere endeavour—and thou seest no such peace and comfort, as we speak of, that they have, I answer,
(a) They may have it, and thou not know it. The saint's joy and peace is not such a light giggling joy as the world's; res severa verum gaudium—true joy is a real thing. The parlour, wherein the Spirit of Christ entertains the Christian, is an inner room, not next to the street, for every one that goes by to smell the feast. 'The stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy,' Prov. 14:10. Christ and the soul may be at supper within, and thou not so much as see one dish go in, or hear the music that sounds so sweetly in the Christian's ears. Perhaps thou thinkest he wants peace, because he doth not hang out a sign in his countenance of the joy and peace he hath within. Alas, poor wretch! may not the saint have a peaceful conscience with a solemn, yea sad countenance, as well as thou and thy companions have a sorrowful heart, when there is nothing but fair weather in your faces? 'In laughter the heart is sorrowful,' Prov. 14:13. Sure he means the wicked man's laughter. It never looks more like rain with them than when it shines. Their conscience lowers when their face laughs. So, on the contrary, there is never more inward peace and comfort to be found in a saint's bosom, than sometimes when his face is blubbered with tears. Shouldst thou come in and hear the Christian bemoaning himself, and complaining with sighs and sobs of his sins against God, thou wouldst go home, and cry out of this melancholy religion, and the sad condition this man was in. And yet he whom thou so pitiest can desire thee to save it for thyself, and not spend it in vain for him; for he would not part with that very sorrow that scares thee so much, for all the joy which the world, with all its
gallantry, when best set forth, could afford. There is a mystery in this sorrow which thou canst not unriddle. Know therefore that there is a sorrow and anguish of heart which ariseth from the guilt of sin and the fearful apprehensions of God's wrath due to sin; and another that flows, not from fear of wrath arising from guilt, but from the sense of sin's inbeing in the soul, provoking the Christian to do that which is dishonourable to that God who hath pardoned his sins to him; and this is the sorrow which sometimes makes the saints go for sad uncomfortable creatures, when all the same time their hearts are as full of comfort from the sense of God's pardoning mercy as they can hold. This sorrow is but like a summer shower, melted by the sense of God's love, as that by the warm sun, and leaves the soul—as that doth a garden of sweet flowers—on which it falls, more fresh and odoriferous.
(b) Though some precious souls, that have closed with Christ, and embraced the gospel, be not at present brought to rest in their own consciences, but continue for a while under some dissatisfactions and troubles in their own spirits; yet even then they have peace of conscience in a threefold respect. In precio, in promisso, in semine— in what purchases it, in the promise, and in the germ.
Every true believer hath peace of conscience in precio —in the price. The gospel puts that price into his hand which will assuredly purchase it, and that is the blood of Christ. We say, 'That is gold which is worth gold'—which we may anywhere exchange for gold. Such is the blood of Christ. It is peace of conscience, because the soul that hath it, may exchange it for this. God himself cannot deny the poor creature that prays on these terms, 'Lord, give me peace of conscience, here is Christ's blood the price of it.' That which could pay the debt, surely can procure the receipt. Peace of conscience is but a discharge under God's hand that the debt due to divine justice
is fully paid. The blood of Christ hath done that the greater for the believer, it shall therefore do this the less. If there were such a rare potion, that did infallibly procure health to every one that takes it, we might safely say, as soon as the sick man hath drunk it down, that he hath drunk his health; it is in him, though at present he doth not feel himself to have it, in time it will appear.
Every true believer hath peace of conscience in promisso—in the promise. And that we count as good as ready money in the purse, which we have sure bond for, Ps. 29:11. 'The Lord will bless his people with peace.' He is resolved on it, and then who shall hinder it? It is worth your reading the whole psalm, to see what weight the Lord gives to this sweet promise, for the encouragement of our faith in expecting the performance thereof; nothing more hard to enter into the heart of a poor creature—when all is in an uproar in his bosom, and his conscience threatening nothing but fire and sword, wrath and vengeance, from God for his sins—than thoughts or hopes of peace and comfort. Now, the psalm is spent is showing what great things God can do, and that with no more trouble to himself than a word speaking. 'The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty,' ver. 4. 'It breaketh the cedars; it divideth the flames; it shaketh the wilderness; it maketh the hinds to calve.' This God that doth all this, promiseth to bless his people with peace, outward and inward. For without this inward peace, though he might give them peace, yet could he never bless them with peace as he here undertakes. A sad peace, were it not, to have quiet streets, but cutting of throats in our houses? yet infinitely more sad is it to have peace both in our streets and houses, but war and blood in our guilty consciences. What peace can a poor creature taste or relish, while the sword of God's wrath lies at the throat of conscience—not peace with God himself? Therefore Christ purchased peace of pardon, to obtain peace of conscience for his pardoned ones; and
accordingly hath bequeathed it in the promise to them. 'Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you,' John 14:27. There, you see, he is both the testator to leave and the executor of his own will— to give out with his own hands what his love hath left believers; so that there is no fear, but his will shall be performed to the full, seeing himself lives to see it done.
Every believer hath this inward peace in semine—in the seed. 'Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart,' Ps. 97:11. Where sown, but in the furrows of the believer's own bosom, when principles of grace and holiness were cast into it by the Spirit of God? Hence it is called 'the peaceable fruit of righteousness,' Heb. 12:11. It shoots as naturally from holiness as any fruit in its kind doth from the seed proper to it. It is indeed most true, that this seed runs and ripens into this fruit sooner in some than it doth in others. This spiritual harvest comes not alike soon to all, no more than the other that is outward doth. But here is the comfort, whoever hath a seedtime of grace pass over his soul, shall have his harvest-time also of joy. This law God hath bound himself to, as strongly as for the other; which are 'not to cease while the earth remaineth,' Gen. 8:22; yea, more strongly, for that was to the world in general, not to every particular country, town or field in these, which may want a harvest, and yet God keep his word; but God cannot perform his promise, if any one particular saint should everlastingly go without his reaping time. 'He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him,' Ps. 126:6. And therefore you who think so basely of the gospel and the professors of it, because at present their peace and comfort is not come, know it is on the way to them, and comes to stay everlastingly with them; whereas your peace is going from you every moment, and is sure to leave you without any hope of returning to you again. Look not how the
Christian begins, but ends. The Spirit of God by his convictions comes into the soul with some terrors, but it closeth with peace and joy. As we say of March, 'It enters like a lion, but goes out like a lamb.' 'Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace,' Ps. 37:37.
3. Sort. This reproves those that think to heal their consciences with other than gospel balm; who leave the waters of living comfort, that flow from this fountain opened in the gospel by Christ, to draw their peace and comfort out of cisterns of their own hewing, and they are two—a carnal cistern, and a legal cistern.
(1.) Some think to draw their peace out of a carnal cistern. There is not more variety of plasters and foolish medicines used for the cure of the ague of the body, than there is of carnal receipts used by self-deceiving sinners to rid themselves of the shaking ague which the fear of God's wrath brings upon their guilty consciences. Some, if they be but a little awakened by the word, and they feel their hearts chill within them, from a few serious thoughts of their wretched undone condition, fall to the physic of Felix; who, as soon as his conscience began to be sick at Paul's sermon, had enough of the preacher, and made all the haste he could to get that unpleasing noise out of his head: 'Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way,' Acts 24:25. Thus many turn their back off God, run as far as they can from those ordinances, that company, or anything else that is likely to grate upon their consciences, and revive the thoughts of their deplored state, which all their care is to forget. Such a one I have heard of, that would not be present at any funeral; could not bear the sight of his own gray hairs, and therefore used a black-lead comb to discolour them; lest, by these, the thoughts of death, which he so abhorred, should crowd in upon him. A poor cowardly shift, God knows! yet all that this wretch had, and all that many more have,