LXXIX.

God, though he be free of his entertainments, yet is curious of his guests. We know what the great house-keeper said to the sordid guest: Friend, how camest thou in hither, not having on a wedding garment? To his feast of glory, none can come, but the pure: without this disposition, no man shall so much as see God; Heb. xii. 14. much less be entertained by him. To his feast of grace, none may come, but the clean; and those, who, upon strict examination, have found themselves worthy. That we may be meet to sit at either of these tables, there must be a putting off, ere there can be a putting on; a putting off the old garments, ere there can be a putting on the new; Col. iii. 9, 10: the old are foul and ragged; the new, clean and holy for, if they should be worn at once, the foul and beastly under-garment would soil and defile the clean; the clean could not cleanse the foul. As it was in the Jewish law of holiness, holy flesh in the skirt of the garment could not infuse a holiness into the garment; but the touch of an unclean person might diffuse uncleanness to the garment; Hag. ii. 12, 13: thus our professed holiness and pretended graces are sure to be defiled by our secretly-maintained corruption; not our corruption sanctified by our graces: as, in common experience, if the sound person come to see the infected, the infected may easily taint the sound; the sound cannot, by his presence, heal the infected. If ever, therefore, we look to be welcome to the feasts of God, we must put off the old man with his deeds, and put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of him that created him; Col. iii. 9, 10.

LXXX.

It is not for us, to cast a disparagement upon any work of our Maker; much less upon a piece so near, so essential to us: yet, with what contempt doth the Apostle seem still to mention our flesh! And, as if he would have it slighted for some forlorn outcast, he charges us, not to make provision for the flesh; Rom. xiii. 14. What! shall we think the holy man was fallen out with a part of himself? Surely, sometimes, his language, that he gives it, is hard: The flesh rebels against the spirit: I know that in me, that is in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing; Rom. vii. 18. but how easy is it to observe, that the flesh, sometimes goes for the body of man; sometimes, for the body of sin! as the first, it is a partner with the soul; as the latter, it is an enemy: and the worst of enemies, spiritual. No marvel, then, if he would not have provision made for such an enemy. In outward and bodily enmity, the case, and his charge, is otherwise: If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink, Prov. xxv. 21. Rom. xii. 20: but here,

make no provision for the flesh. What reason were there, that a man should furnish and strengthen an enemy against himself? But if the flesh be the body of the man, it must challenge a respect but the very name carries an intimation of baseness: at the best, it is that, which is common to beasts with us: There is one flesh, saith the Apostle, of men; another flesh of beasts; 1 Cor. xv. 39. both are but flesh. Alas, what is it but a clod of earth, better moulded; the clog of the soul; a rotten pile; a pack of dust; a feast of worms? But, even as such, provision must be made for it; with a moderate and thrifty care, not with a solicitous; a provision for the necessities and convenience of life, not for the fulfilling of the lusts. This flesh must be fed, and clad; not humoured, not pampered: so fed, as to hold up nature, not inordinateness: shortly, such a hand must we hold over it, as that we may make it a good servant, not a lawless wanton.

LXXXI.

What action was ever so good, or so completely done, as to be well taken of all hands? Noah and Lot foretell of judgments from God, upon the old world and Sodom; and are scoffed at: Israel would go to sacrifice to God in the wilderness; and they are idle: Moses and Aaron will be governing Israel according to God's appointment; Ye take too much upon you, ye sons of Levi: David will be dancing before the ark of the Lord; he uncovers himself shamelessly, as one of the vain fellows; 2 Sam. vi. 20: our Saviour is sociable; he is a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners: John Baptist is solitary, and austere; he doth it by Beelzebub, the prince of devils; Matt. xi. 18, 19: he rides in a homely pomp through Jerusalem; he affects a temporal kingdom; and he is no friend to Cæsar, that can suffer him to live: he is, by his almighty power, risen from the dead; his disciples stole him away, while the soldiers slept: the Spirit of God descends upon the Apostles in fiery and cloven tongues, and they, thus inspired, suddenly speak all languages; they are full of new wine; Acts ii. 13: Stephen preacheth Christ, the end of the Law; he speaks blasphemous words against Moses and against God; Ácts vi. 11. And what aspersions were cast upon the primitive Christians, all histories witness. What can we hope to do or say, that shall escape the censures and misinterpretations of men, when we see the Son of God could not avoid it? Let a man profess himself honestly conscionable; he is a scrupulous hypocrite: let him take but a just liberty in things merely indifferent; he is loosely profane: let him be charitably affected to both parts, though in a quarrel not fundamental; he is an odious neuter, a lukewarm Laodicean. It concerns every wise Christian, to settle his heart in a resolved confidence, of his

own holy and just grounds; and then to go on, in a constant course of his well-warranted judgment and practice, with a careless disregard of those fools'-bolts, which will be sure to be shot at him, which way soever he goes.

LXXXII.

All God's dear and faithful ones are notably described by the Apostle, to be such, as love the appearing of our Lord Jesus; 2 Tim. iv. 8: for, certainly, we cannot be true friends to those, whose presence we do not desire and delight in. Now this appearing, is either in his coming to us, or our going to him whether ever it be, that he makes his glorious return to us, for the judgment of the world, and the full redemption of his elect; or, that he fetches us home to himself, for the fruition of his blessedness; in both, or either, we enjoy his appearance. If then we can only be content with either of these; but do not love them, nor wish for them; our hearts are not yet right with God. It is true, that there is some terror in the way to both these: his return to us, is not without a dreadful Majesty; for the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, 2 Pet. iii. 10. and the glorious retinue of his blessed angels must needs be with an astonishing magnificence: and, on the other part, our passage to him must be through the gates of death, wherein nature cannot but apprehend a horror: but the immediate issue of both these is so infinitely advantageous and happy, that the fear is easily swallowed up of the joy. Doth the daughter of Jephthah abate ought of her timbrels and dances, because she is to meet a father whose arms are bloody with victory? Judges xi. 34. Doth a loving wife entertain her returning husband otherwise than with gladness, because he comes home in a military pomp? Is the conqueror less joyful to take up his crown, because it is congratulated to him with many peals of ordnance? Certainly then, neither that heavenly state wherein Christ shall return to us, nor the fears of a harmless and beneficial death wherein we shall pass to him, neither may nor can hinder ought of our love to his appearing. O Saviour, come in whatever equipage or fashion thou wilt, thou canst be no other than lovely and welcome: Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.

LXXXIII.

Suppose a man comes to me on the same errand, which the Prophet delivered to Hezekiah: Set thine house in order, for thou shalt die, and not live; 2 Kings xx. 1: with what welcome do I entertain him? Do I, with that good king, turn my face to the wall, and weep? or, do I say of the messenger, as David said of Ahimaaz, He is a good man, and brings good tidings?

2 Sam. xviii. 27. Surely, nature urges me to the former, which cannot but hold dissolution her greatest enemy; for what can she abhor so much, as a not-being? faith persuades me to the latter; telling me, that, To die is gain; Phil. i. 21. Now, whether of these two shall prevail with me? Certainly, as each of them hath a share in me; so shall either of them act its own part in my soul. Nature shall obtain so much of me, as to fetch from me, upon the sudden apprehension of death, some thoughts of fear faith shall straight step in, and drive away all those weak fears; and raise up my heart to a cheerful expectation, of so gainful and happy a change. Nature shews me the ghastliness of death: faith shews me the transcendency of heavenly glory. Nature represents to me a rotten carcase: faith presents me with a glorious soul. Shortly, nature startles at the sight of death: faith out-faces and overcomes it. So then, I, who, at the first blush, could say, "O death, how bitter is thy remembrance!" Ecclus. xli. 1: can now, upon my deliberate thoughts, say, I desire to depart, and to be with Christ; Phil. i. 23.

LXXXIV.

In the carriage of our holy profession, God can neither abide us cowardly, nor indiscreet. The same mouth, that bade us, when we are persecuted in one city, flee into another, said also, he, that will save his life, shall lose it: we may neither cloak cowardice with a pretended discretion, nor lose our discretion in a rash courage. He, that is most skilful and most valiant, may, in his combat, traverse his ground for an advantage; and the stoutest commander may fall flat, to avoid a cannon-shot. True Christian wisdom, and not carnal fear, is that, wherein we must consult for advice, when to stand to it, and when to give back. On the one side, he dies honourably, that falls in God's quarrel; on the other, he, that flies, may fight again. Even our Blessed Leader, that came purposely to give his life for the world, yet, when he found that he was laid for in Judea, flees into Galilee. The practice of some primitive Christians, that, in an ambition of martyrdom went to seek out and challenge dangers and death, is more worthy of our wonder and applause, than our imitation. It shall be my resolution, to be warily thrifty in managing my life, when God offers me no just cause of hazard; and, to be willingly profuse of my blood, when it is called for by that Saviour, who was not sparing of shedding his most precious blood for me.

LXXXV.

He had need to be well under-laid, that knows how to entertain the time and himself with his own thoughts. Company, variety of employments, or recreations, may wear out the day

with the emptiest hearts: but, when a man hath no society but of himself, no task to set himself upon but what arises from his own bosom; surely, if he have not a good stock of former notions, or an inward mint of new, he shall soon run out of all, and, as some forlorn bankrupt, grow weary of himself. Hereupon it is, that men of barren and unexercised hearts can no more live without company, than fish out of the water; and those heremites and other votaries, which, professing only devotion, have no mental abilities to set themselves on work, are fain to tire themselves, and their unwelcome hours, with the perpetual repetitions of the same orisons, which are now grown to a tedious and heartless formality. Those contemplative spirits, that are furnished with gracious abilities, and got into acquaintance with the God of Heaven, may and can lead a life, even in the closest restraint or wildest solitariness, nearest to angelical; but those, which neither can have Mary's heart nor will have Martha's hand, must needs be unprofitable to others, and wearisome to themselves.

LXXXVI.

There is nothing more easy, than to be a Christian at large: but the beginnings of a strict and serious Christianity are not without much difficulty; for nature affects a loose kind of liberty, which it cannot endure to have restrained: neither fares it otherwise with it, than with some wild colt; which, at the first taking up, flings, and plunges, and will stand on no ground; but, after it hath been somewhile disciplined at the post, is grown tractable, and quietly submits either to the saddle or the collar. The first is the worst: afterwards, that, which was tolerable, will prove easy; and that, which was easy, will be found pleasant. For, in true practical Christianity, there is a more kindly and better liberty: Stand fast, saith the Apostle, in that liberty, wherewith Christ hath made you free; Gal. v. 1. Lo here, a liberty of Christ's making; and, therefore, both just and excellent: for what other is this liberty, than a freedom; as from the tyranny of the law, so from the bondage of sin? Being then made free from sin, saith St. Paul, ye became the servants of righteousness; Rom. vi. 18. Here are two masters, under one of which every soul must serve; either sin, or righteousness: if we be free from one, we are bond-men to the other. We say truly, the service of God, that is of righteousness, is perfect freedom: but, to be free to sin, is a perfect bondage; and, to serve sin, is no other than a vassalage to the Devil. From this bondage, Christ only can free us: If the Son shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed; John viii. 36: and we are no Christians, unless we be thus freed: and, being thus freed, we shall rejoice in the pleasant fetters of our voluntary and cheerful obedience to righteous