Sermons preached on several occasions to which a discourse is annexed concerning the true reason of the sufferings of Christ : wherein Crellius his answer to Grotius is considered / by Edward Stillingfleet ...

SERMON X. * 1.1 * 1.2 * 1.3 Preached at WHITE-HALL. MARCH 2. 1669. * 1.4 (Book 10)

ISAIAH LVII. XXI.

There is no peace, saith my God to the Wicked.

IF we were bound to judge of things only * 1.5 by appearance, and to esteem all persons happy who are made the object of the envy of some and the flattery of others, this text would seem to be a strange Paradox, and in∣consistent with what daily happens in the word. For what complaint hath been more frequent among men almost in all ages, than that peace and * 1.6 prosperity hath been the portion of the wicked, that their troubles have not been like other mens, that none seem to en∣joy greater pleasures in this world than they who live as if there were no other? The consideration of which hath been a

matter of great offence to the weak, and of surprise to the wisest; * 1.7 till they have searched more deeply into the nature of these things (which the more men have done the better esteem they have always had of divine providence) and from thence have understood that the true felicity of a mans life lies in the contentment of his own mind, which can never arise from any thing without himself, nor be enjoyed till all be well within. For when we compare the state of humane nature with that of the beings inferiour to it, we shall easily find that as man was designed for a greater happiness than they are capable of; so that cannot lie in any thing which he enjoys in common * 1.8 with them, (such as the pleasures of our senses are) but must consist in some peculiar excellencies of his being. And as the capacity of misery is always proportionable to that of happi∣ness; so the measure and the kind of that must be taken in the same manner that we do the other. Where there is no sense of pleasure there can be none of pain; where all pleasure is confined to sense, the pain must be so too; but where the greatest pleasures are intellectual, the greatest torments must be those of the mind. From whence it follows that nothing doth so much conduce to the proper happiness of man, as that * 1.9 which doth the most promote the peace and serenity of his mind: nothing can make him more miserable than that which causeth the greatest disturbance in it. If we can then make it appear that the highest honours, the greatest riches, and the softest pleasures can never satisfie the desires, conquer the fears, nor allay the passions of an ungoverned mind, we must search beyond these things for the foundations of its peace. And if notwithstanding them there may be such a sting in the consci∣ence of a wicked man, that may inflame his mind to so great a height of rage and fury, which the diversions of the world * 1.10 cannot prevent, nor all its pleasures cure: we are especially con∣cerned to fix such a notion of mans happiness which either sup∣poses a sound mind or else makes it so; without which all the other things so much admired can no more contribute towards any true contentment than a magnificent Palace, or a curi∣ously wrought bed to the cure of the Gout or Stone. All which I speak, (not as though I imagined any state of perfect tranquility or compleat happiness were attainable by any man in this present life: for as long as the causes are imperfect the effect must be so too: and those Philosophers who discoursed * 1.11 so much of a happy state of life did but frame Ideas in Mo∣rals as they did in Politicks, not as though it were possible for any to reach to the exactness of them, but those were to be ac∣counted best which came the nearest to them:) but I therefore

speak concerning a happy state of life for these two reasons. * 1.12

1. That though none can be perfectly happy, yet that some may be much more so than others are, i. e. they may enjoy far greater contentment of mind in any condition than others can do; they can bear crosses, and suffer injuries with a more equal temper; and when they meet with vicissitudes in the world they wonder no more at it, than to see that the wind changes its quarter, or that the Sea proves rough and tempestuous which but little before was very even and calm. They who under∣stand humane nature have few things left to wonder at; and they who do the least wonder, are the least surprised; and they * 1.13 who are the least surprised are the least troubled; and those are the happiest men as this world goes, who meet with fewest troubles in it. The Italians have a shrewd Proverb, that there is less mony, less wisdom, less honesty in the world than men generally make account of; I will not stand to maintain the truth of it, but the less men believe of these things, the less they are deceived, and the less they are deceived the less they are troubled. For no troubles are greater than those which are the most unexpected; none are so unexpected as those which come upon men who are only undeceived by their own experi∣ence: * 1.14 For they undergo a great deal of trouble to gain a little wisdom whereas a true judgement and consideration of these things before hand, keeps the mind of man more steady and fixt amidst all the contingencies of humane affairs. By which we see that wisdom of it self hath a great influence upon the quiet and peace of mans mind and the happiness of his life: but if we add to that the inseparable property of true wisdom, viz. patience and submission to the Will of God upon the con∣sideration of his infinite Wisdom and Goodness, he must be strangely blind that cannot discern a greater peace and serenity * 1.15 following these two in the minds of men, than where folly and irreligion raign. Thus far then we have gained, that Wisdom and Piety tend very much to the lessening the troubles of a mans life; and therein lies the far greatest part of the happi∣ness of this imperfect State. For it is a vain thing to expect in so open a condition as we live in here that no cross winds should blow upon us; but if they only shake our branches and make our leaves fall, as long as the root holds firm and the bo∣dy entire, the former beauty and glory will return again. It can be no disparagement to the most skilful Pilot, to have his * 1.16 Vessel tossed upon a tempestuous Sea, but to escape with little damage when he sees others sink down and perish, shews the great difference which wisdom gives in the success, where the dangers are equal and common. So that not only some men

may meet with fewer troubles in the world than others do; but * 1.17 supposing they meet with the same, some are far more happy in passing through them than others are. And this is the fair∣est sense I know can be given of those otherwise extravagant speeches of the Philosophers of old, concerning the Wise man being happy in the Bull of Phalaris, or under the greatest racks and torments, not as though they could be so senseless to imagine that any man could be as happy in his torments as out of them; but that taking him in the same State with another man who wants that constancy of mind which he hath, he may be said to be happy in respect of the other. By which * 1.18 we see that although no state of life can be said to be com∣pleatly happy, yet some may be much nearer than others can be. Which was necessary to be premised in order to the right understanding the design of our following discourse: which is to shew.

2. That some course of life to any man who considers what he doth, is utterly inconsistent with a state of Peace and Tran∣quillity; I mean the course of Sin and Wickedness. So the Prophet assures us from the mouth of God himself: in the words of the text. There is no peace saith my God to the Wicked. Which words are spoken on purpose by the Prophet, to shew * 1.19 how much the wickedness of men doth hinder them from en∣joying that peace and happiness which they might have had without it; for in the foregoing words he represents God as shewing great pity to the scattered remainders of a broken and distressed people; though he had punished them severely for their sins, and banished them out of their native country, yet he promiseth them, that those who put their trust in him should possess the land and again inherit his holy mountain. v. 13. and therefore speaks that the way might be cast up and * 1.20 prepared for their return, and every impediment taken out of the way, v. 14. for the high and lofty one who inhabits eter∣nity; will again dwell in his high and holy place, viz. at Hie∣rusalem (so the words may be understood, for the Hebrew verb is future) but especially with those who were humbled for their sins, who are here called the humble and contrite ones. v. 15. For God would not always contend with them, for he knew they were not able to stand before him; v. 16. and al∣though his punishment of them was just for their sins, v. 17. yet God took notice of their repentance and would therefore * 1.21 heal their breaches, and conduct them back again to their own land, and thereby give so great an occasion of joy and triumph, that by it he is said to restore comforts to those who mourned for the calamities they lay under. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 18. yea he would grant

them so much inward peace and outward prosperity, that * 1.22 they should far and near joyn in their praises to God for it; and therefore he is said to create the fruit of the lips peace, peace, &c. But all this while they must have a care of decei∣ving themselves, though God did restore them to their own land with abundance of joy and peace, in expectation that the remembrance of their former calamities and the present bles∣sings they enjoyed would make them abhor the sins which had provoked God to punish them; yet if they should return to their wickedness again, or continue in it after so great mercies, they would soon find that their wickedness would overthrow * 1.23 their peace, and nothing but discontent and trouble would fol∣low upon it; as the natural product of it. For like the troubled Sea that is tossed up and down with violent and impetuous winds, fomes and rages, one wave beating against another, and the effect of all this commotion is nothing but casting upon the neighbour shore a greater burden of unprofitable mire and dirt: such would the effect of their wickedness be among them, v. 20. it would make them restless and unquiet in themselves, having no one certain motion but tossed up and down with every con∣trary blast of wind, and producing nothing by all these vari∣ous * 1.24 agitations but unprofitable counsels and unsuccesful designs. But lest the Prophet should be supposed to speak all this out of discontent and passion, he confirms what he had said from the mouth of God in these few but smart words of the Text. There is no peace, saith my God to the wicked.

The words we see are general and indefinite, both as to the nature of the peace here mentioned, and the notion of Wicked∣ness implyed; and therefore I shall handle them in their due extent by shewing that no one kind of true peace is consistent with any sort of prevailing wickedness: whether by peace we * 1.25 mean the peace a man hath with himself in the tranquillity of his mind; or the peace which men have in society with one another. In either of these senses it will appear true, that there is no peace to the wicked.

1. Taking peace, for the tranquillity of a mans mind; in order to which it is necessary for a man to have some certain foundation to build his peace upon, and that he be secured from those things which will overthrow it; both which shew it impossible for a wicked man to have any true peace in his mind, because he can have no certain grounds to build it upon; * 1.26 and those things do accompany his wickedness, which will certainly overthrow it:

1. A Wicked man can have no certain foundations for his peace. By which I do not mean any contracted dulness, or

bruitish stupidity, which if we will call peace the most insen∣sible * 1.27 parts of the creation do infinitely exceed us in it; but such a composure and settlement of our minds, which ariseth from a due consideration of things; and differs as much from the former temper as a vigorous and healthful state of body doth from the dull effects of a Lethargy. And such a peace as this no wicked man can ever have but upon one of these suppositions.

Either (1.) That Wickedness is but a meer name of dis∣grace set upon some kind of actions, but that really there is no such a thing as sin, or the differences of good and evil; or * 1.28 else,

(2.) Supposing there is such a thing as sin, it is ridiculous to believe there ever should be such a punishment of it as men are affrighted with;

(3.) Or Lastly, supposing there be a punishment of sin to come, it is madness to abstain from the present pleasures of sin for the fear of it. These being only the imaginable grounds a wick∣ed man can have any peace in his mind from; I shall parti∣cularly shew the falseness and the folly of them.

1. That there is no such thing as Sin or Wickedness in the * 1.29 world, and that the differences of good and evil are meerly ar∣bitrary things, and that those are names only imposed upon things by the more cunning sort of men to affright men from the doing some actions, and to encourage them to do others. But what a miserable case are those in, who can never enjoy any contentment in themselves unless all the differences of good and evil be utterly destroyed! We should conclude that mans condition desperate, who believes it impossible for him to have any ease in his mind, unless he could be transformed into the shape of a beast, or petrified into the hardness of a rock. These * 1.30 are things not utterly impossible, but yet they are possible in so remote a degree that it is all one to say, he can have no ease, as to say, that he expects it only upon those terms: But it is utterly inconsistent with the supposition of humane nature, or a being endued and acting with reason, to make all things equally good or evil. For what doth reason signifie as it re∣spects the actions of men, but a faculty of discerning what is good and fitting to be done, from what is evil and ought to be avoided? And to what purpose is such a faculty given us, if there be no such difference in the nature of things? Might not * 1.31 men with equal probability argue that there is no such thing as a difference in the things about which life and sense are con∣versant, as in those wherein reason is imploved? With what impatience would those men be heard who should assert that

there is no such thing as a difference in the qualities of meats * 1.32 and drinks, but that they do all equally tend to the preservati∣on of life, that it is pedantical and beneath a Gentleman to talk of any such thing as Poisons, that will so suddenly and certainly destroy mens lives, and that these are things which none talk of or believe besides those whose trade is either to kill or cure men? With how much wit and subtilty might a man argue upon these things, that it is impossible for any man to define what the nature of poison is, or in what manner it destroys the life of man, that men have conquered the malig∣nity of it by use, and that the same things which have been * 1.33 poison to some, have been food and nourishment to others? But notwithstanding all these plausible arguments, none of these brave spirits dare venture the experiment upon themselves: and yet these (only changing the terms) are the very same arguments used against the natural differences of good and evil; viz. the difficulty of defining or setting the exact bounds of them, and the different customs or apprehensions of men in the world concerning the things which are called good and evil. If we proceed farther to the objects of sense; how ridiculous would those persons appear that should with a mighty confi∣dence * 1.34 go about to perswade men, that the differences between light and darkness, between pleasure and pain, between smells and tasts and noises are but phantastick and imaginary things? Who would ever believe that those are men of the most excel∣lent sight to whom light and darkness are equal: (for others who pretend not to so much wit, are wont to call such persons blind.) Or that those have the most exquisite sense, that feel no difference of pain and pleasure, (which was wont to be thought the sign of no sense at all.) And surely the persons I am now arguing against, love their palats too well, to admire * 1.35 those who can discern no difference of tasts; and would be well enough contented to be thought deaf if they could put no di∣stinction between the pleasant sound of vocal or instrumental Musick, and the harsh jarring of two saws drawn cross each other. Thus it appears that nothing would make men more ri∣diculous than to explode and laugh at the difference that there is in the means of life and the objects of sense: let us now pro∣ceed higher. Dare any man say there is no such thing as rea∣son in man, because there appears so little of the truth of it in men, and so much of the counterfeit of it in Bruits? or that * 1.36 there is no such thing as a difference of Truth and fashood, be∣cause they are so commonly mistaken for one another? What reason then imaginable can there be, that there should not be as wide a distance in the matters of our choice, as in the ob∣jects

of our sense and understanding? Is it that we have natu∣ral * 1.37 faculties of sense and perception, but not of choice? that, every one is able to resute by his constant experience, that finds a greater liberty in his choice, than in his perception. The rea∣son of which is wholly unintelligible, unless a difference be found in the nature of the things proposed to his choice; that some have a greater excellency and commendableness in them, more agreeable to humane nature, more satisfactory to the minds of those who choose them, than others are. And must all this difference be destroyed, meerly because all men are not agreed, what things are good and what evil? We call goodness the * 1.38 beauty of the soul; and do men question whether there be such a thing as beauty at all, because there are so many different opinions in the world about it? Or is deformity ever the less real because the several nations of the world represent it in a colour different from their own? Those arguments then against the natural differences of good and evil must needs appear ri∣diculous, which will be granted to hold in nothing else but on∣ly the thing in question. And yet in the midst of all the ruines and decays of humane nature, we find such evident footsteps and impressions of the differences of good and evil in the minds * 1.39 of men, which no force could extinguish, no time could de∣face; no customs could alter. Let us search the records of an∣cient times, and enquire into the later discoveries of nations, we shall find none so barbarous and bruitish as not to allow the differences of good and evil; so far as to acknowledge, that there are some things which naturally deserve to be praised, and others which deserve to be punished. Where as if good and evil were meerly names of things, there can be no reason as∣signed, why praise and honour should necessarily belong to some things and infamy and disgrace to follow others. If the * 1.40 things themselves be arbitrary, the consequences of them would be so too. But is it possible to imagine that any man should deserve to be punished as much for being true to his trust, as for betraying it; for honouring his Parents as for destroying them; for giving to every one their due, as for all the arts of injustice and oppression? Is it possible for men to suffer as much in their esteem, for their fidelity, temperance, and chastity, as they al∣ways do for their falseness, intemperance, and lasciviousness? How comes the very name of a lie to be a matter of so much reproach and dishonour, that the giving of it is thought an in∣jury * 1.41 so great as cannot be expiated without the satisfaction of the givers blood, if it be in it self self so indifferent a thing? Nay, I dare appeal to the consciences of the most wicked per∣sons, whether they are so well pleased with themselves, when

they come reeking from the satisfaction of their lusts, and sod∣den * 1.42 with the continuance of their debaucheries, as when they have been paying their devotions to God, or their duties to their Parents, or their respects to their Country or Friends? Is there not (whether they will or no,) an inward shame, and secret regret and disquiet following the one, and nothing but ease and contentment the other? What should make this dif∣ference in those persons who love their vices far more than they do the other? and if it were possible for them would bring vertue more out of countenance than sin is: yet after all their endeavors, though vice hath the stronger interest, vertue * 1.43 hath the greater Reverence. Thus considering humane nature as it is, we find indelible characters remaining upon it of the natural differences of good and evil; but then if we consider it with a respect to the Maker of it, that will cast a clearer light upon them, and make those characters appear more discerni∣ble. For nothing can be more absurd than to imagine a crea∣ture owing its being, and all it hath to the bounty of a Being infinite in all Perfections, and yet not to be obliged to give all honour, worship and service to it. To rip up the bowels of a Mother to whom a man owes his coming into the world; to as∣sassinate * 1.44 a Prince, to whom he owes all the honours and riches he hath in it; are crimes of so black a nature, that the worst of men can hardly be supposed to commit them, nor the worst of Devils to defend them: But to blaspheme God and to deride his service seems to have a much greater malignity in it, in as much, as our obligations to his honuor and service, are much greater than they can be to any created Being. But if there be no natural differences of good and evil, even this must be ac∣counted an indifferent thing, as well as the former: and what safety can there be in conversing with those men, whom no * 1.45 bonds of Religion, Nature, or Gratitude can tye? Let us, if it were possible suppose a Society of men constituted of such who make all things equally good and evil in their own na∣ture, what a monstrous Leviathan would they make among them? no Religion, no Law, no Kindness, no Promises, no Trust, no Contracts could ever oblige them not to do any thing which they thought might be done with safety. By which it appears that these principles are so inconsistent with humane Nature, and all the bonds of Religion and Duty, that whoever owns them must suppose mankind more savage than the beasts * 1.46 of prey, he must renounce his reason, destroy all Religion, and disown a Deity. For if there be a God, we must be inviola∣bly bound to observe and obey him; and the very notion of a God implies a being infinitely perfect; and if there be such

perfections in God, they cannot but be so in their own nature, * 1.47 and if they be so in their own nature they must in their degree be so in us as well as in him; so that if goodness, holiness and righteousness be absolute perfections as they are in God, they must be perfections so far as they are in us; and the contrary must be imperfections; which makes the differences of good and evil so far from being arbitrary, that those things which agree to the perfections of God as well as his will must needs be good, and those which are repugnant to them must needs be evil. The result of all is, that if a wicked man can have no peace in his mind, without overthrowing the differences * 1.48 of good and evil, he can have no peace without the greatest violence offered to God, to nature, and himself, and if this be the way to Peace let his Reason judge.

2. The second foundation which a wicked man must build his peace upon is, that supposing there be such a thing as sin, yet that men have no cause to disturb themselves with the fears of so great a punishment to follow after, as that which sinners are afrighted with. But what security can a sinner have against the fears of punishment when his conscience condemns him for the guilt of his sins? Is it that God takes no notice at all of * 1.49 the actions of men, that he will not disturb his own eternal peace and happiness by observing all their follies? So some of old imagined, who pretended that out of meer kindness to the Deity they gave him his Quietus est, and took from him as much as in them lay, the care and government of the world: but it was really a greater kindness to their lusts which made them do it, and makes many now a days so willing upon the same frivolous pretences to exclude the providence of God out of the world, for can any man who considers what God is think his providence inconsistent with his happiness? If we speak of * 1.50 such weak and imperfect beings as the wisest of mankind are, it might not a little contribute to their peace to be eased of the cares of Government. But the reason of that is because all things cannot be foreseen by them before they happen, nor well managed when they do, whence come oversights and disap∣pointments and consequently all the uneasie effects of these. But when we speak of God, we speak of a being infinitely Wise and Powerful, from whom nothing can be hid, and whom no∣thing can resist: and what can be imagined more easie than for a conjunction of infinite Wisdom and Power, to contrive * 1.51 and manage all the affairs of the world? If therefore wicked men could suppose that God could not know what they did, or could not punish them if he knew it, they might indulge them∣selves in greater security: but to suppose his Wisdom so great

that he cannot but know their actions, and his Power so irresi∣stible, that it is impossible for them to stand before him when * 1.52 he designs to punish, to flatter themselves with the hopes of impunity is an extravagant piece of folly and madness. Or is it then, that though God doth take notice of their actions, he will not be so much displeased as to punish them? but this is as repugnant to the Justice and holiness of God, as the other was to his Wisdom and Power. Will not the righteous God who hath made Laws to govern mankind see to the execution of them? for if he did not hate sin why did he so strictly for∣bid it? if he doth hate sin, he will severely punish it. Nay * 1.53 hath he not been severe already in the execution of his judge∣ments upon the world for sin? what did Adam and his poste∣rity suffer for the first sin? what did the old world, Sodom and Gomorrah, the people of the Jews suffer for their wicked∣ness? And is not he the same God still? Is his hand shortned that he cannot strike, or doth his heart fail that he dare not punish? Surely of all nations we have no cause to think so, and of all Ages; not in this of ours; wherein we have smarted so much by the just displeasure of God against our sins. But where then lies the sinners hope? Is it at last, that though God may * 1.54 sometimes punish men in this life for their sins he will never do it in that to come? If he could have said it was impossible he should do it, and proved it sufficiently, there might have been some ground for his security, but that is impossible he should ever do; but to hope he will not do it when he hath declared that he will, is instead of bringing peace to his own mind to set God at variance with himself. For nothing can be more plainly revealed, more frequently inculcated, more earnestly pressed than a 1.55 that there is a day of wrath to come, wherein the righteous judgement of God shall be revealed; and wherein * 1.56 God will render to every man according to his deeds: wherein tribulation, and anguish and wrath shall be upon every soul of man that doth evil; wherein the secrets of all hearts and actions shall be disclosed, when the graves shall be opened, b 1.57 and they that have done good shall come forth to the resur∣rection of life, and they that have done evil to the resurrection of damnation. For the Lord Iesus himself even he who dyed for the salvation of all penitent sinners, c 1.58 shall be revealed from heaven with his mighty Angels in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God and obey not the Gospel * 1.59 of Christ, who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord and the glory of his power. Then shall that dreadful sentence be passed upon all impenitent sinners, d 1.60 depart from me ye cursed into everlasting fire prepared for

the Devil and his Angels. Which words are so full of horrour and astonishment as might not only disturb the sinners peace * 1.61 and security, but awaken him to such a sense of his sins, as to loath, abhorr and forsake them, and thereby flie from the wrath to come.

3. But after all this, is it possible to suppose, that any should think their present pleasures would countervail all the mise∣ries of another life? which is the last imaginable foundation for a sinners peace, while he continues in his wickedness. The most professed Epicureans that ever were, made this one of their fundamental maxims, that no pleasure was to be chosen, which brought after it a pain greater than it self: on which * 1.62 account they made temperance and sobriety necessary to a pleasant life, because excesses and debaucheries leave far more of burden than of ease behind them. But what would these men have said, if they had believed the intolerable anguish of a tormented mind, the racks of an enraged conscience, the fire of everlasting vengeance to be the consequent of all the pleasures of sin? they must upon their own principles have concluded that none but madmen and fools would ever venture upon them. And that not only because the after pain would * 1.63 so much exceed the present pleasure; but because the fears of that pain to come must abate proportionably of the pleasure which might otherwise be enjoyed. Suppose a man certainly knew that upon the pleasing his palat with the most excellent wine, and gratifying his appetite, with the most delicate food he must be racked with the stone, and tormented with the Gout as long as he should live; can we imagine such a per∣son could have any pleasure in his mind (whatever his palat had) in the emjoyment of them while he did consider the consequent of them. But what are these miseries compared with the in∣supportable * 1.64 horrour of a conscience loaden with guilt, sunk under despair, having a gnawing worm and unquenchable flames; the wrath of an almighty God, and the fury of his vengeance to encounter with, without the least hopes of conquering? I do not now ask, what the sinner will then think of all his Atheism and Infidelity when the greatness of his miserie shall convince him that it is an Almighty hand which lays it upon him; nor what pleasure he can have in the thoughts of his former excesses, when not one drop can be procured for the mitigation of his flames? nor what satisfaction those lusts * 1.65 have given him, the very thoughts of which pierce his soul, and if it were possible would rend him in pieces with the torment of them? but that which I demand is, what peace of mind a sinner can have in this world who knows not how soon he may

be dispatched to that place of torment? can he bind the hands * 1.66 of the Almighty, that he shall not snatch him away till he doth repent? or can he reverse the decrees of heaven, or suspend the execution of them? can he abrogate the force of his Laws, and make his own terms with God? can he dissolve the chains of darkness with a few death-bed tears, and quench the flames of another world with them? O foolish sinners who hath bewitched them with these deceitful dreams! will heaven∣gates fly open with the strength of a few dying groans? will the mouth of hell be stopt with the bare lamentation of a sin∣ner? Are there such charms in some penitent words extorted * 1.67 from the fear of approaching misery, that God himself is not able to resist them? Certainly there is no deceit more dange∣rous, nor I fear more common in the world, than for men to think that God is so easie to pardon sin, that though they spend their lives in satisfying their lusts; they shall make amends for all by a dying sorrow and a gasping repentance. As though the unsaying what we had done, or wishing we had done otherwise since we can do it no longer, (for that is the bottom of all putting off repentance to the last) were abundant compensation to the justice of God, for the affronts of * 1.68 his Majesty, contempt of his Laws, abuse of his patience, and all the large indictments of wilful and presumptuous sins, which the whole course of our lives is charged with. The supposal of which makes the whole design of Religion signify very little in the world.

Thus we have examined the foundations of a sinners peace, and found them very false and fallacious:

2. we are now to shew that those things do accompany a sinners course of life which certainly overthrow his peace; which are these two. 1. The reflections of his mind. 2. The * 1.69 violence of his passions.

1. The reflections of his mind, which he can neither hinder nor be pleased with. No doubt if it were possible for him to de∣prive himself of the greatest excellency of his being, it would be the first work he would do, to break the glass which shews him his deformity. For as our Saviour saith a 1.70 every one that doth evil hateth the light lest his deeds should be reproved; not only the light without which discovers them, but that light of conscience within, which not only shines but burns too. Hence proceeds that great uneasiness which a sinner feels * 1.71 within as often as he considers what he hath done amiss, which we call the remorse of conscience; and is the natural conse∣quent of the violence a man offers to his reason in his evil acti∣ons. It was thought a sufficient vindication of the innocency

of two Brothers by the Roman Judges, when they were accused * 1.72 for Parricide; that although their Father was murthered in the same room where they lay, and no other person was found on whom they could fasten the suspicion of it, yet in the morning the door was open and they fast asleep. For as the Orator saith, a 1.73 no man can imagine, that those who had broken all the Laws of God and nature by so great an act of wickedness could presently sleep upon it: for they who do such things can neither rest withoutcare, nor breath without fear. We are not to believe, saith he, the fables of the Poets, as though wicked men were haunted and terrified with the burning torches of * 1.74 the furies; but every mans wickedness is the greatest terrour to himself, and the evil thoughts which pursue wicked men are their constant and domestick furies. It would be endless to re∣peat what force the more civil Heathens, have given to con∣science either way, as to the peace which follows innocency, and the disquiet which follows guilt. Which they looked on as the great thing which governed the world, b 1.75 quâ sublatâ jacent omnia as the orator speaks, without which all things would be in great disorder, for these punishments they are sure not to escape, c 1.76 though they may do others; and these * 1.77 they thought so great and weighty that upon this ground they vindicated divine providence as to the seeming prosperity of wicked men, thinking it the most unreasonable thing in the world, to call those persons happy who suffered under the severe lashes of their own consciences. If there were such a force in the consciences of those who had nothing but the light of nature to direct them, how much greater weight must there be when d 1.78 the terrours of the Lord are made known by himself, e 1.79 and the wrath of God revealed from heaven against all unrighteousness of men? I know that wicked men * 1.80 in the height of their debaucheries pretend to be above these things, and are ready to laugh at them as the effects of a strong spleen and a weak brain: but I appeal to their most sober thoughts, when the steams of wine are evaporated, and the intoxication of evil company is removed from them, when in the deep and silent night, they revolve in their minds the actions of the foregoing day; what satisfaction they then take in all the sinful pleasures they have pursued so eagerly? but especially; when either their lusts have consumed their bodies, or the vengeance of God hath overtaken them; when death * 1.81 begins to seize upon their vitals, and themselves not wholly stupified through the power of their sins or their disease, let then, if it were possible, any represent the fears, the horrour and asto∣nishment which the consciences of wicked men labour under

in remembrance of their evil actions. How mean and poor * 1.82 would they leave themselves if with all their honours and riches they could purchase to themselves, a reprieve from death and from the miseries which follow after it? what would they then give for the comfort of a good conscience, and the fruit of a holy, righteous, and sober life? with what another sense of Religion do men whose minds are awakened speak then, in comparison of what they did in the days of their mirth and jollity? Neither is this to take them at the greatest disadvan∣tage, as some of them have been ready to say; for I suppose their minds as clear then as at any time, and so much the clearer, * 1.83 because freed from the impediments of such freedom of their thoughts at another time; for the same thoughts would have possessed them before, only the pleasures and the hopes of life diverted their minds from them, but now the nearness of the things they feared, and the weight and consequence of them make them more diligently examine and impartially consider them. But that demonstrates the great misery of a sinners State; that what cures the other greatest troubles of our life doth the most increase his, which is the exercise of reason and consideration, that allays the power of griefs, that easeth the * 1.84 mind of vain fears, that prevents many troubles and cures others, that governs other passions and keeps them in their due bounds; but this is it which of all things doth the most increase the trouble of a wicked mans mind; for the more he considers, the worse he finds his condition; and while he finds his con∣dition so bad, he can never enjoy any peace in his mind.

2. The violence of his passions: those a wicked man hath lost the command of, or else he could never be a wicked man, and whosoever is under the power of any unruly passion forseits all his peace by it. For what peace can ever be expected in such * 1.85 a State of violence and usurpation, where the calm govern∣ment of reason is cast off as an unnecessary burden, and every passion under the pretence of liberty sets up for an arbitrary power? Nay▪ what confusion and disorder must needs follow, where the powers of the mind, which ought to keep all in order, are themselves in subjection to their own slaves: and none ever govern so ill as those which ought to obey. How serene and quiet is the mind of a man where the superiour faculties pre∣serve their just authority? How composed is his temper, how moderate his desires, how well governed his fears! But where * 1.86 once that authority is lost, how extravagant is the rage of men, how unruly their lusts, how predominant their fears! What peace had Xerxes in his mind when in stead of con∣quering his foolish passion, he challenged mount Athos into the

field, and no doubt would have run fast enough if he had seen * 1.87 it moving? What pleasure was it to see that mighty Monarch whip the Sea in a rage, as though the waves had been under his discipline, and would run the faster for the fear of his rod? What harm had the hair of his head done to that man who pulled it off with the violence of his passion, as though as the Philosopher told him, baldness would asswage his grief? Was ever Varus the nearer to restoring his Legions for Au∣gustus knocking his head against the wall in a rage about the loss of them? What injury did Neptune suffer, when he displaced his image in the Circenstan games, because he had an * 1.88 ill Voyage at Sea? What height of madness and folly did that modern Prince's rage betray him to, who, as the French Mo∣ra list saith, a 1.89 having received a blow from heaven, sware to be revenged on Almighty God, and for 10. years space forbid all publick exercise of devotion towards him? I instance in these things to let us see there is nothing so ridiculous, nothing so absurd, nothing so irreligious but a violent passion may be∣tray men to. And if such things ever break forth into actions, what may we conceive the inward disturbance is, where the outward shew (which usually dissembles the inward passion), * 1.90 betrayed so much rage and disorder; for where such flames break out, what combustion may we conceive within? But it is not only this kind of passion which is so great an enemy to the peace of a mans mind, but when his desires are restless, and his fears unconquerable, and this is the case of every wicked man. His lusts inflame him and the means he uses to quench them inrage them more; his ambition grows greater as his ho∣nour doth; and there is no hopes of a cure, where the disease thrives under the remedy; his love of riches is necessary to maintain his honour and feed his lusts; and where passions so * 1.91 great, so many, so different all increase by being gratified what disturbance and confusion follows? But supposing that vices in men may agree (as the Devils in Hell do) to the destruction of mens souls; yet what security can a wicked man have against the power of his fears? and we all know no passion disquiets more than that doth. And how many sorts of fears possess a sinners mind? fears of disappointments, fears of discovery, and fears of punishment, but supposing he could master all the rest and the fears of punishment as to this life too; yet the fears of that to come is sufficient to rob him of any peace in his mind, * 1.92 and impossible to be overcome by him. For no sound reason can be given against his fears, but the strongest arguments in the world to confirm them. Nay the greatest grounds of others comforts are the strongest foundations for his fears, as

the belief of a God, and Providence, and a life to come: * 1.93 And what can give that man peace, whom the very thoughts of the God of peace doth disturb so much? That is the first kind of Peace we have shewed to be in consistent with a course of wickedness, which is the peace and tranquillity of a mans own mind.

2. Taking this peace for an outward peace, and so these words not in respect of every person in particular and that peace which belongs to him as such, but as they are joyned together in community; so they imply that nothing undermines our civil peace and the prosperity of a nation so much as prevailing * 1.94 wickedness doth. So that although mighty deliverances were given the people of the Jews in a very strange and unexpected manner, when God raised up Cyrus his servant, a man from whom no kindness was expected, and made him the great in∣strument of setling the people in their land under their own lawful Princes, and restored the true worship of God among them, yet if they grew wanton in the days of their prosperity, and forgat the God who delivered them, they must expect a return of Calamities again upon them; for there is no Peace saith my God to the wicked. i. e. This is the method of his * 1.95 providence, and the way he useth in governing the world; while Religion and vertue flourish among them, they may hope for peace and prosperity; but if those decay and sin and wicked∣ness prevail, no other arts imaginable will secure a lasting peace, or an abiding tranquillity. All other ways are but tricks and devices, and there are many of them in the hearts of men, but the Counsel of the Lord that shall stand against them all; and that Counsel he hath declared himself by the mouth of another Prophet, a 1.96 At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation and concerning a Kingdom to build and * 1.97 to plant it, if it do evil in my sight that it obey not my voice, then will I repent of the good, wherewith I said I would bene∣fit them. Thus we find it was in this people of the Jews, upon their first return from captivity they shewed some zeal towards the rebuilding the Temple and setling the worship of God there; but this fit did not hold them long, they soon fell back to their former sins and disobedience to the Laws of God, upon this they brake out into greater schisms and factions in matters of Religion than ever were known among them before; for then the Pharisees fell into a seperation under a pretence of * 1.98 greater sanctity and severity of life, and these by their shew of zeal gained a mighty interest among the people; so great that the Princes stood in awe of them: then the Sadducees (who were most part Courtiers as Iosephus tells us) out of op∣position

to the other looked on Religion as a meer political * 1.99 institution, cryed out against faction and popularity, and questioned at least whether there were any Spirits or life to come. And what peace followed upon these things? very little among themselves we may be sure by the heats and ani∣mosities that were continually among them; the issue of which was, the Temple was profaned by Antiochus, rifled by Pompey; their own Princes deposed and Usurpers ruled over them; and when the Son of God himself could not reclaim them, their Temple, nation, and government were all in∣volved in one common ruin. Thus we see how these words of * 1.100 the Prophet were fulfilled upon this people.

But some have been ready to say that Gods proceedings with the Iews ought not to be drawn into an example to any other nations, because his dealings with them were peculiar, and by vertue of a particular Covenant which God made with them, which he hath not done with any other nation in the world. This objection were of great force, if God himself had not in the words before mentioned, declared the same concerning any other nation or Kingdom, and if the instances were not as remarkable in other people as in that of the Jews. If we search * 1.101 the monuments of former ages, and consider the strange revo∣lutions which have happened in the mighty emipres and King∣doms of the world; we shall find no one circumstance more considerable in them than this, that the nations which God hath made use of for a scourge to others have been remarkable for nothing so much, as for the vertues opposite to the most pre∣vailing vices among those who were overcome by them. Thus when the Chaldean Monarchy fell, the Persians who were the sword in Gods right hand, were eminent for nothing more than their great temperance and frugality, while the Babylo∣nians * 1.102 perished by their luxury and effeminacy. And when the Persian Monarchy degenerated into the same vices, the Ma∣cedonians were raised up to be the executioners of Gods wrath upon them, because they were at that time freer than any other people from those softening and destroying vices. And when the Persian luxury had infected their conquerours the severe Disciplin and vertue of the Romans made them more successful in subduing the remainders of the Graecian Empire, than their courage and number could. And when the Ro∣mans themselves (after a long time of Gods forbearance with * 1.103 them, and several respites from punishment by the vertue and conduct of such excellent Princes as Antoninus and Alexander Severus in the Heathen, and Constantine and Theodos••us in the Christian Empire) fell into as great a degeneracy of manners

as any we ever read of, then did God let loose (as it were) the * 1.104 Goths and Vandals and other barbarous nations out of their several dens who seemed to be designed rather to destroy than to conquer. So sudden, so numerous, so irresistible in most places were the incursions they made. But what was it which gave them so strange success? was it their long practice and skill in military affairs? No, they were rude and unexperienced: was it their mighty courage? No, they were despised by the Romans as great cowards, and begged for peace when it was denyed them. But as a 1.105 Salvian tells us who lived in those times and knew the manners of both sides, the Goths and Van∣dals * 1.106 were of a very severe chastity, among whom fornication was punished sharply, and adultery a crime scarce heard of; whereas all manner of uncleanness and licentiousness did abound among the Romans, who yet were then called Chri∣stians. The Goths were devout and pious, acknowledging divine providence, making their solemn supplications to God before their victories, and returning him the praise of them afterwards; but the Romans were fallen into that degree of irreligion and Atheism that nothing was more common among them than to droll upon Religion. b 1.107 A nostris omnia fermè * 1.108 religiosa ridentur, as Salvian speaks: they thought all things managed by chance or fate and ascribed very little to God. And where these sins abounded most, they were car∣ried up and down as by a divine instinct, as they confessed themselves, and where they conquered, c 1.109 as he particularly speaks of the Vandals in Africa, they purged all the stews of uncleanness, and made so great a reformation by the seve∣rity of their Laws, that even the Romans themselves were chast among them. Thus we see how those great and mighty Empires have been broken to pieces by the weight of their * 1.110 impieties falling upon them.

May the consideration then of these things move us in time to a reformation of our lives, before our iniquities grow full and ripe for vengeance. We have seen many revolutions, and God knows how many more we may see; if that should be true of us, which the same Author saith of the Romans in the midst of all their changes Sola tantum vitia perdurant, their vices remained the same still. Thanks be to God, that things have a fairer appearance at present than they have had, and never so good a time to amend as now: but if men flatter them∣selves * 1.111 with present security, and their sins increase as their fears abate, the clouds which seem dispersed may soon gather again, and the face of the Heavens will change if we do not.

And if it be not in our power to reclaim others from their

sins, let us endeavour to preserve the honour of our Church by amending our own, and convince our enemies by living * 1.112 better than they. And give me leave to say, and so I con∣clude, that among all the expedients which have been thought of for the peace of this Church and Nation, that of leaving off our sins, and leading vertuous and exemplary lives, will at last prove to be the most successful. * 1.113 * 1.114 * 1.115 * 1.116

Notes

• * 1.1

  Serm. X.
• * 1.2

  A
• * 1.3

  B
• * 1.4

  C
• * 1.5

  D
• * 1.6

  E
• * 1.7

  A
• * 1.8

  B
• * 1.9

  C
• * 1.10

  D
• * 1.11

  E
• * 1.12

  A
• * 1.13

  B
• * 1.14

  C
• * 1.15

  D
• * 1.16

  E
• * 1.17

  A
• * 1.18

  B
• * 1.19

  C
• * 1.20

  D
• * 1.21

  E
• * 1.22

  A
• * 1.23

  B
• * 1.24

  C
• * 1.25

  D
• * 1.26

  E
• * 1.27

  A
• * 1.28

  B
• * 1.29

  C
• * 1.30

  D
• * 1.31

  E
• * 1.32

  A
• * 1.33

  B
• * 1.34

  C
• * 1.35

  D
• * 1.36

  E
• * 1.37

  A
• * 1.38

  B
• * 1.39

  C
• * 1.40

  D
• * 1.41

  E
• * 1.42

  A
• * 1.43

  B
• * 1.44

  C
• * 1.45

  D
• * 1.46

  E
• * 1.47

  A
• * 1.48

  B
• * 1.49

  C
• * 1.50

  D
• * 1.51

  E
• * 1.52

  A
• * 1.53

  B
• * 1.54

  C
• a 1.55

  Rom. 2. 5, 6, 8, 9.
• * 1.56

  D
• b 1.57

  John 5. 29
• c 1.58

  2 Thess. 1. 7, 8, 9.
• * 1.59

  E
• d 1.60

  Matth. 25. 41.
• * 1.61

  A
• * 1.62

  B
• * 1.63

  C
• * 1.64

  D
• * 1.65

  E
• * 1.66

  A
• * 1.67

  B
• * 1.68

  C
• * 1.69

  D
• a 1.70

  John 3. 20.
• * 1.71

  E
• * 1.72

  A
• a 1.73

  Pro Sex∣tioc. 23.
• * 1.74

  B
• b 1.75

  De N. De∣orum. l. 3.
• c 1.76

  De leg. l. 1.
• * 1.77

  C
• d 1.78

  2 Cor. 5. 11.
• e 1.79

  Rom. 1. 18.
• * 1.80

  D
• * 1.81

  E
• * 1.82

  A
• * 1.83

  B
• * 1.84

  C
• * 1.85

  D
• * 1.86

  E
• * 1.87

  A
• * 1.88

  B
• a 1.89

  Montagne. Ess. l. 1. c. 4.
• * 1.90

  C
• * 1.91

  D
• * 1.92

  E
• * 1.93

  A
• * 1.94

  B
• * 1.95

  C
• a 1.96

  Jer. 18. 9, 10.
• * 1.97

  D
• * 1.98

  E
• * 1.99

  A
• * 1.100

  B
• * 1.101

  C
• * 1.102

  D
• * 1.103

  E
• * 1.104

  A
• a 1.105

  Sal. l. 7. p. 161. &c.
• * 1.106

  B
• b 1.107

  P. 166.
• * 1.108

  C
• c 1.109

  P. 168.
• * 1.110

  D
• * 1.111

  E
• * 1.112

  A
• * 1.113

  B
• * 1.114

  C
• * 1.115

  D
• * 1.116

  E