LXXX sermons preached at the parish-church of St. Mary Magdalene Milk-street, London whereof nine of them not till now published / by the late eminent and learned divine Anthony Farindon ... ; in two volumes, with a large table to both.

THE PREFACE.

THat the way of man is not in himself,* 1.1 that it is not in him to direct his steps in that way which he chalketh out, I have found true in my self, and am made an instance of it in the truest and most natural sense of the words; That our purposes sink and fail almost as soon as they are up, that in matters of indifferency (and would it were not so in those of the greatest concernment) we think we resolve when we do but think. And what strength hath such a thought against a Friend and Importunity.

I saw well enough the hazard before me which I was to run. I knew there was too much of this kind of work abroad in the world already; and, if there were none, yet there would be too much by mine. I saw the roughness of the times, and the un∣certainty of the weather, and what a weak and thin bottom I put out in, and could not hope for that security abroad which my cell and silence will scarcely afford me. I could not be ignorant how many several winds, and out of several coasts, might meet and spend themselves against me. I conceived in my self that it was in vain to hope to charm the Reader, and to as little purpose to court him into a favourable opinion, as it was for Xerxes to fetter the Hellespont, or to write letters to mount Athos. For after all pretenses, all apologies, all insinu∣ations, he will be the same, and think and judge as he please, when we have said what we can. All this I foresaw, or thought I did, and that Apologies were like complaints in this, were never welcome, no not then when they were necessary; Which was enough, one would think, to have strengthened and re-inforced my first thoughts, and so fixed them against all other temptations, all forein assaults whatsoever.

But so it is; I see them now shaken and turned another way, even to that which I was most afraid of, and must now prepare and arm my self against. I that suffered my self to be perswaded into the danger, have now but one task to undergo, and that is to perswade and work my self into an unmoveable patience if it overtake me, and to sit in silence when the noise is loudest, when those hailstones of censures fly about me. Yet thus much I have to say for my self, that had I not placed a higher esteem on other mens judgements then mine own, had I not been ad∣vised so to do by some in whose judgement I was ever willing to rest (and yet sometimes Affection getteth over it even in the wisest) and had I not been by nature of an easie and ductil disposition, too apt to be drawn out at length to any purpose, which hath no evil upon it, by the hand and direction of those whose worth and goodness have wrought themselves an interest in me; had not the very name of friend been more powerful with me then my own thoughts; I, who could never yet shoulder it in a throng, but had rather quit my place then struggle for it, who am more addicted to the forrest and retirement then to the City and noise, I, who have no other business now to do but to agree and sit down quietly with my Poverty, and to draw down my mind within that narrow compass in which the iniquity of the times hath left me, should not have thus taken my self from my self, nor took so much pains to draw on more; which though it may begin and end but in words, yet words sometimes are troublesome, as the barking of a dog may be to a bird, though on the wing and out of reach: I should not certainly have thus put my self upon my Countrey, nor ventured my tryal there where the Judges may be of several minds and diversely biassed, and yet meet at the same mark, and joyn in the same sentence of condemnation, which I will not say Envy (for what matter can my low fortunes or these sorry papers yield for that humour to gnaw on?) but the Disesteem of my person, the low Con∣ceit of my abilities in some, the Dislike of the matter in others, and of the method and manner of handling it in many, and Igno∣rance in not a few, will soon make up and pronounce against me.

But I have past over my Rubicon, and left it behind me, and must now stand censure the shock of all that opposition which

can be but breath and words, but darts made up of air, pointed peradventure with Wit, and envenomed with some droppings of Malice, against which there need no other buckler then this thought, That whatsoever I shall appear, yet I am still the same, not higher, not lower, in all the demonstrations and fulness either of Praise or Detraction: or this, That Censure for the most part is but Pride in its wantonness, self-pleasing, and not much dis∣pleasing any that are wise, who may be strong enough to hear without disgust what others are ready to vent with so much de∣light, what Wit suggesteth to their Passion, and what Passion uttereth by the Tongue.

And such Readers I may have, and too many such; some of the same faith and opinion, who yet will mislike something; others not alike principled, who will condemn all. To the first I have nothing to say; and to these but this, That I cannot be of their opinion, nor move as they do, till more weight of reason be hung on. Yet, I nothing doubt but to find many more candid and charitable, and who will give fairer welcome and entertein∣ment to these Sermons then peradventure they do deserve, and peruse them with an eye no more severe and averse then their ear was when they first heard them from my mouth. And for satis∣faction to these I shall give up this account for my self, That they are now publisht to the eye with the same mind and intention which first breathed them forth unto the ear; and that was first, to work men off from those errours which are so common in the world, and have gained honour and kindness and reception be∣cause they are so; secondly, to draw up their love and industry to necessary truths, that they may not spend and wast them there where they may perhaps satisfie their humour but not fill their souls, but fix and tye them to that which is most essential, which hath the favour of God and happiness evermore annext unto it, and ready to crown it; thirdly, to draw up the Means to the End, the Duty to the Reward, by that necessary relation which is betwixt them; this being the way, and there being no other unto it; and this with plainness and evidence, laying it open as near unto the eye as the matter being spiritual would permit, and my weak abilities and diligence could bring it. In which if I have failed, or come short (as I must needs do) of those who have a

more quick and searching eye and a greater art and felicity in clothing and uttering their conceptions, I must make use of the apology of an Apocriphal writer,* 1.2 CONCEDENDƲM EST MI∣HI, If I have done slenderly and meanly, it is that which I could at∣tain to, and I have no other argument but my good will and en∣deavour to speak for me.

And first, how weakly soever I have carried it on, yet I made it my aim and principal intendment to lay all level before me, and to remove those practical errours which are most com∣mon and regnant, which men walk in as in the ways of righte∣ousness, and glory in as in the Truth it self, which grow up in the world like those weeds which run and spread themselves over the surface of the water, but have no root; even those errours which are the proper issues of Lust and Idleness, with which men infect and in which they applaud one another, and so move together with content and danger; which are improved by cu∣stome, and at last raised up to the power and dignity of a Law. It was well observed by Seneca, Cùm error singulorum fecerit pub∣licum, errorem singulorum facit publicus; The beginning of Er∣rours is from private persons, but the continuance and life of them is from the multitude, who are first dazled with the autho∣rity and practice of some few, and then take it from one ano∣ther, and hold it up as a ball from hand to hand, and the pub∣lickness of it gaineth authority, and interchangeably prevaileth with private men to receive and embrace it. It first stealeth or beggeth an entrance, and when it is common and publick it reigneth. From hence are those noxious yet beloved errours, of which men are so tender and jealous that if you do but breathe against them, or but look towards them with an eye which be∣trayeth but the least dislike, they presently swell and rage as a∣gainst an enemy, and is never at ease but in his snare who is so. Proficit semper contradictio stultorum ad stultitiae demonstrationem, saith Hilary; The perverseness and contradiction of weak and wilful men is violent and impetuous to gain ground, and outrun that truth which should stay and moderate it. But the greatest pro∣gress it maketh in these its easie and pleasant journeys, is to make it self more open and manifest, like Candaules wife, who was seen naked of all but her self. From hence have those errours

crept into the Church which have lessened her number, and fil∣led her up not with members but with names. From hence it is that God is made more cruel then Man, and yet more merciful then he is; that Men are Saints, and yet the Law impossible; that the begin∣nings of Obedience are set down for perfection; that Men are made per∣fect, and yet sin oftner then they obey; that Our Endeavours are per∣formances, and our weakest and most feeble thoughts are endeavours; that Hearing is Faith, and Faith phansie; that Imputed righteousness is all, when we have none of our own; that VVe may be reputed good when we are notoriously evil; that Our Election may be sure though we do not make it so, and that we must assure our selves when we have more reason to despair; that Assurance is a duty, and to work it out is none. From hence it is that Christian Liberty is let loose against Christ himself, and the Spirit brought in to contradict it self; and God, to do himself what he doth command; that Grace is miraculous and irre∣sistable, and the VVill is but a word which signifieth nothing, or if it do, it is that which cannot will. All these we find in the books and writings of some who have gained a name and repute in the world, presented indeed in a veil, but so thin, and with so lit∣tle art of concealment, that they are understood by too many in that sense which the Flesh will soon admit and make use of to all its purposes. And though when they are urged with the dan∣ger of such positions, and the horrour of such consequences which naturally issue from them, they seem to disown and reject them as none of theirs, and do many times in their Postills con∣fute their Doctrine with their Use, and their Premises with their Inferences,* 1.3 yet it is with that art which Tiberius used in the re∣fusal of the Empire, with doubtful and perplext Words, and, as he, naming but one part when they mind the whole; they will not and yet would say all, as he would not and yet would be Emperour. And after all shifts and evasions, after so many affirmations and negations, after so many limitations and di∣stinctions and riddles, Sol Apollo, & Apollo Sol, as it is in the proverb, we have but several expressions for the same thing: and what they would have and what they would not have, what they do say and what they will not say; to be perfect, yet most de∣ficient; to think, and to endeavour; to begin in the Spirit, and to end in the Spirit; to be forced, and to be led; to be willing, and not to

will; to be irregular, and to be free; to be certain without assurance, and assured without diligence; to be Saints, and yet unholy; to be Adulterers and to be members of Christ, differ no more in their sense than the Sun and Apollo do in the Poets, which are but several names of one and the same Planet.

I thought it therefore and took it upon me as a work not un∣worthy of my place and calling, and which might bring some advantage to my Auditours, to endeavour at last the removal of those errours which to me seemed to come so near as to take part with mens lusts and affections and worser part, and to flat∣ter and feed our corruption, which is wanton of it self, and ever ready to break forth without such incitements; and which did give it so much power and line in many, though through Gods preventing grace it wrought not the same so pernicious and kil∣ling effect in all. And I considered, not what did alwayes, but what, if we respect the errours themselves and the inclinations of the flesh, was most likely, and would most naturally flow from them. To which if I have not brought so much strength as some may look for (who stand as much at distance, and are as much afraid of them as my self) or as the work it self may require, if I have left them something to say who will never want something to say though they can say nothing, yet I lookt upon it as my duty: and though I do not rise so high as to the satisfaction of others, yet some satisfaction it will bring to my self that I did endeavour it.

And I was the more forward in this work, because I saw men not only entertein these doctrines, but love them, and prejudge all others which look from them another way, as those which lead them from that truth which is saving into danger, and so to labour almost irrecoverably under Prejudice, whose tyranny keepeth men in more aw and obeysance then the sway of those affections which are sudden and mutable could do. For we see the Affections are blind, and when they carry us along with vio∣lence they do not judge but choose. Ʋnicui{que} sua cupiditas tem∣pestas est, Every mans inordinate affection is not only as a wind to drive him forward,* 1.4 but a tempest to whirl him about from errour to errour, which commonly is like that affection that raiseth it. But the Philosopher will tell us no tempest is long,

but soon breatheth it self forth; and when the cloud is removed the eye is clear. In his wrath Esau will kill his brother;* 1.5 but when time had worn that out, he is a brother again, and he mee∣teth and kisseth him. David's Lust brought him to the forbid∣den bed, but the voice of a Prophet maketh him wash it with his tears. It is open to our observation, that what men do out of passion they do they know not how, and the greatest reason they have, is, that they do it: and if in passion we pass any judgement, it is not long lived, but wasteth, and decayeth and dyeth with it. But Prejudice is a rooted and a lasting e∣vil, an evil we are jealous of because we think it good, and we build upon it as upon a sure foundation; so that he that look∣eth but towards it, that doth but breathe against it, appeareth as an enemy that cometh to dig and cast it down. Sometimes we see it is raised by the Affections, sometimes the Affections inter∣mingle and weave themselves with it, but most commonly they come in the rear of Prejudice, and follow as the effects of it, and help to strengthen and continue it. And thus we love him who is of our opinion, because it is ours; and we hate him who op∣poseth it, upon the same reason; we are afraid of every profer and angry with every word that is spoken against it. And this gathereth every Conventicle, this moldeth evey Sect, coyneth every Heresie. * 1.6 This is that Sword which our Saviour speaketh of, which maketh division of a man from his father, and a daughter from her mother, and maketh enemies of those who are of a mans own houshold.* 1.7 It is that East-wind which bringeth in the Locusts which cover the face of the Church, and make it dark, and eat up those fruits of Peace and Holiness which otherwise we might gather.* 1.8 And indeed it worketh most trouble in the House of Peace, in the Church, in Controversies concerning Religion. For in Philosophical Treaties new discoveries are very welcome; and if there rise any debate, it goeth no farther then to curst words, and seldome breaketh out to personal hazard: But these of more Divine speculation, which should be managed with peace and charity, are commonly held up with great heat and pride of Wit, which some call Shame, which men have to seem to have erred. Which may be the reason why we have so few instances of Retractation, buta 1.9 one among the Antients, and of

later dayesb 1.10 one more, but such a one as did but like some Plumbers, make his business worse by mending it. So harsh a thing it is to the nature of Men to seem to have mistaken, and so powerful is Prejudice: For to confess an Errour is to say we wanted Wit.

And therefore we should flye from Prejudice as from a Ser∣pent.* 1.11 For it deceiveth us as the Serpent did Eve, giveth a No to Gods Yea; maketh Men true, and God a lyar, and nulleth the sentence of death. You shall dye the death, when this is the In∣terpreter, is, your Eyes shall be opened; and to deceive our selves, is to be as Gods knowing good and evil. And it may well be called a Serpent; for the biting of it is like that of the Tarantula; the working of its venome maketh us dance and laugh our selves to death: For a setled prejudicate, though false, opinion may build up as strong resolutions as a true. Saul was as zealous for the Law as Paul was for the Gospel. A Heretick will be as loud for a fiction as the Orthodox for the Truth; the Turk as vio∣lent for his Mahomet as a Christian for his Saviour. Habet dia∣bolus suos Martyres: For the Devil hath his Martyrs as well as God. And it is Prejudice which is that evil spirit that casteth them into the fire and the water, that consumeth or drowneth them,* 1.12 that leadeth them forth like Agag, delicately to their death.

And this is most visible in those of the Church of Rome; We may see even the marks upon them, Obstinacy, Insolency, Scorn and contempt, a proud and high Disdain of any thing that appeareth like reason, or of any man that shall speak it to teach and recover them: Which are certainly the signes of the biting of this Serpent Prejudice, or as some will call it, the marks of the Beast. Quàm gravis incubat? How heavy doth Prejudice lye upon them who are taught to renounce their very Sense, and to mistrust, nay to deny, their Reason? who see with other mens eyes,* 1.13 and hear with other mens ears? qui non animosed auribus co∣gitant, who do not judge with their mind but with their ears? The first prejudice is, That theirs is the Catholick Church, and can∣not err; and then all other search and enquiry is vain, as a lear∣ned writer observeth. For what need they go further to find the truth then to the high Priests chair, to which it is bound? And

this they back and strengthen with many others; of Antiquity, making that most true which is most antient.* 1.14 And yet omnia vetera nova fuere, that which is now old was at first new. And by this Argument Truth was not Truth when it first began, nor the Light Light when it first sprung from on high and visited us. And besides, Truth, though it had found professours but in this latter age, yet was first born, because Errour is nothing else but a deviation from the Truth, and cometh forth last, and layeth hold on the heel of Truth to supplant it. Besides these, Councils; Which may err, and the Truth many times is vo∣ted down when it is put to most voices. Nazianzene was bold to censure them, as having seen no good effect of any of them. And we our selves have seen, and our eyes have dropped for it; what a meer Name, what Prejudice, can do with the Many,* 1.15 and what it can countenance. And many others they have: of Miracles; which were but lies of Glory, which is but vanity: of Universality; which is bounded and confined to a certain place. With these and the like that first prejudice, That the Church cannot err, is underpropt and upheld. And yet again these depend upon that: Such a mutual complication there is of Errours, as in a bed of Snakes. If the first be not true, then these were nothing: and if these pillars be once shaken (and they are but mud) that Church will soon sink in its reputation, and not fit so high as magisterially to dictate to all the Churches of the world.

And as we have set up this Queen of Churches as an ensample of the effects of Prejudice, so may we hold it up as a glass to see our own. She saith we are a Schismatical: We please and assure our selves that we are a Reformed Church: And so we are, and yet Prejudice may find a place even in the Reformation it self. Rome is not only guilty of this, but even some members of the Reformation, who think themselves nearest to Christ when they run farthest from that Church, though it be from the Truth it self. And this is nothing else but Prejudice, to judge our selves pure because our Church is purged, to be less reformed be∣cause that is Reformed, or to think that Heaven and Happiness will be raised and rest upon a Word or Name, and that we are Saints as soon as we are Protestants. Almost every Sect and

every Faction laboureth under this Prejudice, and feeleth it not, but runneth away with its burden. And too many there be who predestinate themselves to Heaven when they have made a surrendry of themselves to such a Church, to such a company or collection, nay sometimes but to such a man I accuse not Lu∣ther or Calvine of errour, but honour them rather, though I I know they were but men, and I know they have erred, or else our Church doth in many things, and it were easie to name them. But suppose they had broacht as many lyes as the Father of them could suggest, yet they who have raised them in their esteem to such an height must needs have too open a breast to have received them as oracles, and to have lickt up poyson it self if it had fallen from their pens, since they have the same motive and inducement to believe them when they err which they have to believe them when they speak the truth, and that is no more then their Name.* 1.16 Tolle Catonem de Causa, said Tully; Cato was a name of virtue, and carried authority with it; and therefore he thought him not a fit witness in that cause against Muraena, for his very name might overbear and sink it. Tolle Augustinum de causa, Take away the name of Augustine, of Luther, and Cal∣vine, and Arminius; for they are but names not arguments. There is but one Name by which we may be saved:* 1.17 And his Name a∣lone must have authority,* 1.18 and prevail with us who is the authour and finisher of our faith. VVe may honour others, and give unto them that which is theirs; but we must not deifie them, nor pull Christ out of his throne to place them in his room. Of this we may be sure, There is not, there cannot be, any influence in a Name to make a conclusion true or false: And if we fix it in our mind as as in its firmament, it will sooner dazle then enligh∣ten us. Nor is it of so great use as men may imagin. For they who read or hear can either judge or are weak of under∣standing. To them who are able to judge and to discern Er∣rour from Truth a name is but a name and no more, and is no more esteemed: For they look upon the Truth as it is, and re∣ceive it for it self. But for those who are of a narrow capacity, and fail in their intellectuals, a Name will sooner lead them in∣to Errour then into Truth; or, if into Truth, it is but by chance; for it should have found the same welcome and enter∣teinment,

had it been an errour, for the Names sake; for a Name is their rule, and not the Thing. All they now gain is, that ha∣ving such a leader they shall fall with more honour into the ditch.

It will be good then to be wary and watchful against our selves, and so to deprehend our selves and not to love our selves so as to be the greatest enemies we have; not to take that upon trust to which we entrust our souls, and on which we de∣pend as our surest guide to that happiness which now our hope and expectation looketh on; but to try and examine even the Truth it self, and to know what ground we stand on; whether our foundation be firm and sure, whether that which we have been taught be not now to be unlearned, whether we have not took up that which we should have run from, delighted in that which we should hate, loved that which we should have feared, been too long familiar with that which will undo us; whether our natural temper and complexion, education and custome have not carried us so far from our selves with that swift but insensi∣ble motion, that we had no leisure to look back and consult with our Reason, which was given us for our best help and guide; whether Delight, or Profit, or Honour, or Security did not make up our Creed for us; whether in our pursuit of the Truth they were not the only lure which we did strike upon, and now adhere as to the Truth it self. It will be good thus to try and examin every conclusion which we have made our rule, to let one day teach another, Maturity oversee and judge our greener years, and the wisdome of Age correct the easiness of our Youth, Reason recognize our Education, Consideration controll Custome, Judgement censure our Delight, and the New man crucifie the Old; In a word, to think that we may have er∣red, and not to be so wise as, because we are deceived, to be so for ever.

Of this we may be sure, for it is obvious to our eye, that our Education can be no forcible motive to bind us everlastingly to any conclusion. For our pupillage doth too often most un∣fortunately fall under such tutours as instill not any principles into us but their own, which are not alwayes true, but more often false, being such which they also took up upon trust from

their instructours. And then Custome prevaileth more in evil then in good, and in those wayes in which the Flesh is carried on with a swinge and violence then in those in which we use to move but heavily. And there be a thousand false fires at which we kindle our Delight, and there can be but one true one. And therefore in these conclusions which we our selves deduce and draw out of known principles (in which all agree, and in which our first judgement is our last) we must be free and disengaged, not in subjection to any man or any thing, not under the aw of our first Instructours, or of Custome, or of any Name un∣der the Sun, or of our Satisfaction and Delight, which we so of∣ten misplace, or of Profit and Advantage, which name we com∣monly give to that which undoeth us. Nor must we be so po∣sitive, so wedded to our own decrees, as to be averse and strange when a fair overture is made of better; because having no su∣rer conduct then these, it is more probable we should err then judge aright: and from hence Errour hath multiplied it self, and is that monster with so many heads, even from this presum∣ption in men, That they cannot err; and we see many most conclusive and confident in that which they have but lightly lookt upon, and never came so near as to survey it, and so dis∣cover what it is. For if men were either impartial to themselves, or so prudently humble as to hearken to the judgement of others, and to try and examin all, the Prince of this world and the Fa∣ther of lies would not have so much in us, nor should we be in danger of so froward a generation. If men were not so soon good, they would not be so often evil; if they were not sure they would not err; and if they were not so wise, they would not be so much deceived.

Nor doth this submission and willingness to hear Reason blast or endanger that Truth which Reason or Revelation hath plan∣ted in us, but improveth it rather to a fairer growth and beauty, as we see Gold hath more lustre by its trial. And this readi∣ness to hear what may be said either for or against it is a fair evi∣dence that we fell not upon it by chance, nor received it, as we do the Devils temptations, at the first shew and appearance, but have maturely and carefully deliberated, and fastened it to our souls by frequent meditation, and are rooted and establisht in it.

Neither doth it argue any fluctuation or wavering of the mind, or unfixedness of judgement. For mutatio sententiae non est in∣constantia, saith Tully, to disannul a former judgement upon better evidence is not inconstancy, nor doth he stagger in his way who followeth a clearer light. And had not Tully forgot himself and what he here said, which may well go for a rule, he would not have made it a part of that elogy and commendations which he giveth to another Oratour,* 1.19 that he never spake word which he would recal; which, in S. Augustines judgement, is truer of a fool then a wise man: for who more positive and perempto∣ry then fools, who being what they are, will be ever so? No, to be willing to hear, to learn, to prove every thing, is the stability rather and continued act of reason: It is its natural and certain course to judge for that which is most reasonable. And the Mind in this doth no more wander then the Planets do, who are said to do so, because they appear now in this now in that part of the heavens, but yet keep their constant and natural moti∣on. Thus it entertaineth Truth for it self; nor suffereth Er∣rour to enter but in that name and resemblance; And when Truth appeareth in its rayes and glory, and that light which doth most throughly and best discover it, it runneth from Er∣rour as from a monster, and boweth to the Sceptre and com∣mand of Truth. It is never so wedded to any conclusion, though never so specious, as not to be ready to put it by and forsake it when another presenteth it self which hath better evi∣dence to speak for it, and commend it to its choice and pra∣ctice. Thus S. Paul was a champion of the Law, and after that a Martyr of the Gospel. Thus he persecuted Christians, and thus he dyed one.* 1.20 Thus S. Peter would not converse and eat with the heathen, as polluted and unclean; yet when the sheet was let down, and in it the will of Christ, he preached un∣to them and baptized them. This is the mother of all Repen∣tance: For what is Repentance but the changing of our mind upon better information? This, if it were well practised would fill the world, which is now full of Errour, with Recognitions and Recantations, which are not only confessions, but triumphs over a conquered Errour, as the rejoycings and Jubilees of men who did fit in darkness, but have now found the light. This

would be an amulet and sure preservative against Prejudice, and, those common and prevailing errours to which it giveth life and strength, and which spread themselves as the Plague, and infect whole families, cities and nations. In brief, this would make our errours more venial, and men more peaceable. For he that seeketh the Truth with this impartial diligence is rather unfortunate then faulty if he miss it; and men would ne∣ver advance their opinion with that heat and malice against dis∣senters, if they could once entertein this thought, That it is possible that they themselves may erre, and that that opinion in which they now say they will dye may be false; if they did not rest in the first evidence as best, and so suffer it to pass unque∣stioned,* 1.21 and never seek for a sure word of prophesie, or a well grounded assurance that this is one. For if this were done, as it should, either Errour would not overtake, or, if it did, it could not hurt us. But this is an argument of a large compass, a subject full and yielding much matter, and I was but to de∣clare my mind and intention, which may better thrive and be more seen under the manage of more nimble and ready wits and the activity of a better penne.

Secondly, as I thought it worth my pains and endeavour to strike at those common errours at which so many stumble, and into which they willingly fall and with great complacency, so did I set up in the course of my office and ministery this desire (and I could not bring much more then desire) to present in as fair an appearance as I could those more necessary and essential truths, by the embracing of which we lay hold on hap∣piness, and come nearest to it; and to set them up as a mark at which all mens actions should especially aim. For if this be once obtained, the other will follow of it self, because these truths are not so obnoxious and open to prejudice, and men would not run into so many obliquities, if they did principal∣ly and earnestly intend that to which they are everlastingly and indispensably bound, nor could they so often erre if they were willing to be good. It was as wise counsel as could have been given to those who sat to solve knotty doubts and to determin controversies in Religion in the Council at Dort, and it was gi∣ven by a King, and it would have made good his Motto, and

styled him a Peacemaker,* 1.22 though there had been nothing else to contribute to that title; Paucissima definienda, quia paucissima necessaria, That they should not be too busie and earnest in de∣fining and determining many things, because so few were neces∣sary. Which counsel, if men had thought it worth their ear and favour, and willingly bowed to it, had made the Church as Jerusalem, a City compact within it self, and there would have been abundance of peace so long as the Moon endureth.* 1.23 For Que∣stions in Divinity are like Meats in this. The more delicate and subtile they are the sooner they putrifie, and by too much agi∣tation and sifting annoy and corrupt the rule; whilest men are more swift and eager in the pursuit and advance of that humour that raised them then in following those truths which are but few and easie,* 1.24 and with which they might build themselves up in their holy faith. Lex nos innocentes esse jubet non curiosos;* 1.25 Inno∣cency and not Curiosity, is the fulfilling of the Law: as it is not Luxury which raiseth an healthful constitution, but Tem∣perance, and those meats which are as wholesome as com∣mon.

The sum of all Christianity is made up in this, To level and place all our hope where it should be, on God through Jesus Christ our Lord, to love him, and keep his command∣ments, which are both open and easie when we are willing. In other more nice then useful disquisitions I am well pleased to be puzzled and to be at loss, and yet am not at loss, because I cannot lose that which I would not, which I cannot have; and resolve for God, and not my self, or indeed for my self be∣cause for God: And my answer is most satisfactory, That I believe the thing, and God only knoweth the manner how it is, and doth not therefore reveal it because it is not fit for me to know.

When I am to appear before God in his House and at his Table, I recollect my thoughts, and turn them upon my self; I severely enquire in what terms I stand with God and my Neighbour; whether there be nothing in me, no imagination, which standeth in opposition with Christ, and so is not suitable with the feast, nor with him that maketh it. And when this is done, my business is at an end; for to attempt more is to do

nothing, or rather that which I should not do: But I do not ask, with the Schools, How the ten Predicaments are in the Eucharist, How the Bread is con-or transubstantiated, or How the body of Christ is there. For they who speak at distance most modestly, and tell us it is not corporally but yet really there, do not so define as to ascertain the manner, but leave it in a cloud and out of sight.* 1.26 I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he will raise me up at the last day:* 1.27 for he hath promised who raised himself, and is the first fruits of them that slept: But I do not enquire What manner of Trumpet it shall be that shall then sound, nor of the Solemnity and manner of the proceed∣ing at that day, or How the body which shall rise can be the same numerical body with that which did walk upon the earth. It is enough for me to know that it is sown in dishonour,* 1.28 and shall be raised in glory: and my business is to rise with Christ here, and make good my part in this first Resurrection; for then I am se∣cure, and need not to extend my thoughts to the end of the world to survey and comprehend the second.

To add one instance more, in the point of Justification of a sinner, in which after sixteen hundred years preaching of the Gospel and more we do not well agree, and yet might well a∣gree if we would take it as the Scripture hath reacht it forth, and not burthen it with our own phansies and speculations, with new conclusions forced out of the light to obscure and dar∣ken it: For when this burden is upon it, it must needs weigh according as the hand is that poiseth it. And what necessity is there to ask Whether it consist in one or more acts, so I do assure my self that it is the greatest blessing that God ever let fall upon the children of men? or Whether it be perfected in the pardoning of our sins, or the imputation of universal obedi∣ence, or by the active and passive obedience of Christ, when it is plain that the act of Justification is the act of the Judge, and this cannot so much concern us as the benefit it self, which is the greatest that can be given; I am sure, not so much as the duty, which must fit us for the act. It were to be wisht that men would speak of the acts of God in his own language, and not seek out divers inventions, which do not edifie, but many times shake and rend the Church in pieces, and lay the

Truth it self open to reproch; which had triumphed glori∣ously over Errour, had men contended not for their own infe∣rences and deductions,* 1.29 but for that common faith which was once delivered to the Saints. And as in Justification, so in the point of Faith by which we are justified, what Profit is it busily to enquire Whether the nature of Faith consisteth in an obsequious assent, or in appropriating to our selves the grace and mercy of God, or in the mere fiducial apprehension and application of the merits of Christ; Whether it be an instrument or a condi∣tion; Whether a living Faith justifieth, or whether it justifieth as a living Faith? What will this add to me, what hair to my stature, when I may settle and rest upon this, which every eye must needs see, That the Faith by which I am justified must not be a dead faith, but a Faith working by Charity, which is the language of Faith, and demonstrateth her to be alive? My sheep hear my voice, saith Christ; 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉,* 1.30 saith Ba∣sil; They hear and obey, and never dispute or ask questions:* 1.31 they taste, and not trouble and mud, that clear water of life. It is enough for us to be justified, it is enough for us to be saved; which we may be by pressing forward in the way which is smooth and plain, and not running out into the mazes and la∣byrinths of disputes, where we too oft lose our selves in our search, and dispute away our Faith; talk of Faith and the power of it, and be worse then infidels; of Justification, and please our selves in unrighteousness; of Christs active Obedi∣ence, and be to every good Work reprobate;* 1.32 of his passive Obe∣dience, and deny him when we should suffer for him; of the inconsistency of Faith and Good works in our Justification, and set them at as great a distance in our lives and conversations, and because they do not help to justifie us, think they have no concurrence at all in the work of our salvation. For we are well assured of the one and contend for it, and too many are too confident of the other. There is indeed a kind of intemperance in most of us, a wild and irregular desire to make things more or less then they are, and remove them well near out of sight by our additions and defalcations; and few there are who can be content with the Truth, and settle and rest in it as it appeareth in that nakedness and simplicity in which it was first brought

forth, but men are ever drawing out conclusions of their own, spinning out and weaving speculations, thin, unsuitable, un∣fit to be worn, which yet they glory in and defend with more heat and animosity then they do that Truth which is ne∣cessary and by it self sufficient without this additional art. For these are creatures of our own, shaped out in our phansie, and so drest up by us with all accurateness and curiosity of dili∣gence that we fall at last in love with them, and apply our selves to them with that closeness and adherency which dulleth and taketh off the edge of our affection to that which is most ne∣cessary, and so leaveth that neglected and last in our thoughts which is the main:* 1.33 As we read of Euphranor the painter, who having stretcht his phansie and spent the force of his imagination in drawing Neptune to the life, could not raise his after and wearied thoughts to the setting forth the ma∣jesty of Jupiter; So when we are so lively and overactive in that which is either impertinent or not so considerable, not much material to that which is indeed most material, we com∣monly dream or are rather dead to those performances which the wisdome of God hath bound us to as the fittest and most proportioned to that end for which we were made.

And these I conceive are most necessary which are necessary to the work we have to do, and will infallibly bring us to the end of our faith and hopes. Others which our wits have hammered and wrought out of them may be peradventure of some use to those who are watchful over them to keep them in a pliableness and subserviency to that which is plain and recei∣ved of all, but may prove dangerous and fatal to others who have not that skill to manage them, but favour them so much as to give them line and sufferance to carry them beyond their limit, and then shut them up in themselves where they are lost to that truth which should save them, which they leave be∣hind them out of their eye and remembrance, whilest they are busie in the pursuit of that which they overtake with danger, and without which the Apostles of Christ, and many thousands before them, have attained their end, and are now in bliss. Certainly it would be more safe for us, and more worthy our

calling, to be diligent and sincere in that which is plainly revea∣led, to believe, and in the strength and power of that Faith to crucifie our flesh with the affections and lusts (Hoc opus,* 1.34 hic labor est) then to be drawing out of Schemes, and measuring out the acti∣ons and operations of God; safer far to make our selves fit to be justified then too curiously to study how Justification is wrought, in which study we are many times more subtle then wise; in a word, safer to make our selves capable of favour and mercy. For then the work is done, and the application made. For all Gods promises are Yea and Amen,* 1.35 and fall close with the performance of the duty. And as to apply them to our selves is our comfort and joy, our heaven upon earth, so to be able and fit to apply them is the work and labour of our Faith and Love whilest we abide in the flesh.

But besides these points of doctrine, which are but inferen∣ces and deductions made by them, whereof some are easie and natural, and hold correspondence and affinity with the Truth as it was first delivered, and are upon that account to be recei∣ved as faithful sayings of all men; other are more forced, and therefore as ejactaneous and unprofitable, as begetting more heat then love, and raising more noise then devotion; besides these there be conclusions in point of Discipline and Church-Politie, in the defence of which we see much dust raised by men of di∣vided minds and apprehensions, and many times both parties well-near smothered in the bustle. For though Discipline and Government be necessary, yet the best form that was ever drawn cannot be absolutely necessary, because it cannot alwayes find place wherein to shew it self, and the holy Spirit of God never laid an absolute necessity but on those things which, as the Sto∣icks speak, are 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, within our reach and power, or which we may do or have when we will.* 1.36 It is necessary to bring into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ, but it is not necessary to be under this or that Discipline, though the best, further then in affection and desire: For in the midst of the changes and chances of this world we cannot be what we would, nor be governed as we please.

We see well enough (for it is as visible as any thing under the Sun) that the Sword, which hath no edg or point against

the essential parts of Religion (with which we may be certain∣ly happy, and without which it is most certain we cannot) as it maketh its way, dictateth and appointeth what it please with a non obstante, notwithstanding all contrary constitutions, though never so antient; and Discipline is either quite cut off, or else drawn out with the same hand which did form and shape the Commonwealth. We have seen what a flow of troubles and dispute in matters of this nature hath passed on and carried a∣way with it our Peace and Religion it self, and then left it as it were upon the sands to shift for it self, in the brests of some few, who by Divine assistance are able to raise and cherish it up to some growth in themselves without these helps and advantages, and to give it a place and power in them even in the foulest weather; being forced to be their own Bishops and Priests, when the hand of Violence hath buried those their Seers either in si∣lence or in the grave. We have seen Religion made an art and craft, and that which was first set up to uphold and promote it strook at and trod upon as the only worm which did eat it out. We have seen the ax laid to the very root of it by those Sons of thunder and noise which is heard in every coast which these Clouds hang over. We cannot but observe what art and dili∣gence hath been used, what fire and brimstone hath been brea∣thed forth, to cast it down. We have needed no perspective to look through the disguise under which they walk, or to be∣hold with what slight and artifice they wrought themselves into the hearts of the people, who are never better pleased then when they are led as beasts to the slaughter, and do flatter and pride themselves most when they are under the yoke. We see it hath been the work of an age to shatter and then blow away that form of Polity in the Church which shewed it self to the Profit and admiration of the best in so many, and was the fairest bulwark the Church had to secure her from the incursions of Schism, He∣resie and Profaneness; Of which, if we had no other argument, the phrensie of this present age, the wild confusion and medley of the Sects and Factions which we see, may be an unquestion∣able evidence: And now we have seen it laid level with the ground. All this we have seen, but yet we do not see that Discipline which did emulate and heave at it, and was placed

in equipage with the Gospel of Christ, we do not see that which was so much extolled, as yet set up in its room. Nay, we scarce see any thing left but the Idea of it, which they still carry with them with expectation and great hopes, which prophesie to them the building up of this second Temple of this new form, which, might it obtain, would, they say, be far more glorious then the first. All this art and endeavour hath been used to make them great and supreme on earth, the one half of which might have wrought out a Crown for them in a better place. For that may be had if we will,* 1.37 and if we be faithful to the death it will fall upon our heads. But in what ground our lines will fall, or how they will be drawn out, is a thing so far out of our reach and power that no humane providence can design and mark it out. Day unto day teacheth us, and the experience of all ages hath made it good, that they who like not what is, but only what they would have, and propose it to themselves and others, do many times open and pave a fair way to it, and walk forward towards it as full of hope as desire, and yet when they are come so near as even to touch and lay hold on it, may see it removed as far from them as before, and their hopes in their blossome and glory to fall off; may live to see themselves in umbrage, under a more mild and friendly tolera∣tion, and behold that past by and sunk lower which they so longed to see in that height which might amaze and aw all about them, and bring them in that harvest which was already gathe∣red in their expectation. I should be unwilling to stir the bloud, or draw upon me the displeasure of any who have cast in their lot with those who have been earnest in such a design; and I have no other end but this, to shew the vanity and de∣ceitfulness of such attempts, and how dangerous and vexatious a thing it is to drive so furiously after that which hath come to∣wards us so often, and then turned the back, which we overtake and lose at once. For it is so in the world, and will be so e∣ven till the end of it; That which is mutable in its own na∣ture may and will be changed; nor is there any thing certain but Piety and Bliss, the Way and the End. And therefore those things which are not so essential to Religion as that she

cannot stand without them, and are essential only when they may be had, being exemplified and conveyed to us by the best hands, must not take up all that labour which we ow to the heat of the day, and those duties of Christianity which are the summe of all, and for which the others were ordained. When they may be had, we must bless God, and use them to that end for which they were given; and when a stronger then we cometh upon us, and removeth them, look after them with a longing eye and bleeding heart, follow them with our sorrow and devotion, use all lawful and peaceable means, to bring them back, bewail our own ingratitude, which raised up that Pow∣er that took them from us, and was the greatest strength they had; and so press forward in that open and known way which no power can block up, in that obedience to the Gospel which the Sword cannot reach, which no Violence can hinder. For this alone can restore us to the favour of God, and restore to us those advantages which we first abused, then lost, and now seek carefully,* 1.38 as Esau did the blessing, with tears. In a word, these helps which we would have, and cannot alwayes have, we may yet alwayes have in our remembrance and affection: but we must not so seek after them as to drive down all before us, and the Gospel it self, in our motion and adventure towards them, but fix our eye and desires upon that Heaven which is presented to us in the way, and on those divine rules of life from which no power on earth can absolve and disengage us, and for the neglect of which no necessity can be brought in as an apology; and thus bless God in all things, even in those which are gone from us, and cleave fast to that which is most essential and necessary to the end, vvhich is out of reach and danger, and vvhich the power of darkness it self cannot take away.

Thirdly, Now I am come to the foot of my account, and to this all that I have to say is but vvhat I can but say (for this Preface is swoln beyond that compass vvhich my first thoughts drew out) and it is this, that as I was careful to press those doctrines which I conceived to be most necessary, so I did it without any affectation, unless it vvere of plainness and perspi∣cuity,

of vvhich indeed I was most ambitious, as knowing that the Majesty of Divine Truths is best seen in the stole and gravity of a matrone, and most times quite lost in the studied gayetry and light colours of a wanton. I could have wished for the happiness of Isidore the Philosopher,* 1.39 of vvhom it vvas said that he spake not words but the very substance and essences of things, that I might have displayed the Glory and Happiness vvhich is alwayes before true Piety, and pointed out to Pie∣ty as with a finger, shewing how it worketh towards it, till they both meet and are made one in eternity. And this I did endeavour (though I come short of it) to draw out in so plain and lively a character that he that runneth might read it; that the sight of it might ravish the beholder, and force him to a love of that which so visibly draweth towards that end which hath no end, even the vision of that God which is blessed for evermore. We speak, saith S. Paul, the wisedome of God in a Mystery,* 1.40 the hidden wisdome: and the Gospel is the revelation of that Mystery. And if it be revealed, it is no longer hidden; if it be known, as far as it is known, it is not a Mystery: And if it were yet a hidden Mystery, it could not concern us, because that can have no influence upon our Will which yieldeth no light at all to our Understanding, which is as a counsellour to the Will, and should convey the light unto it. The Light is no more light to me then Darkness it self when it is put under a bushel; and Mysteries when they are hidden are to us as nothing. I know now no Mysteries in Divinity: for it is agreed on all hands, that whatsoever is necessary to the end is perspicuous and naked to the understanding. I may say, Mystical Divinity is an art of teaching nothing, of moving and standing still, of striving forward and winning no ground, an art of filling men with thin and empty speculations, in which they are lifted up aloft to strange sights and apparitions, as they say Witches are, and as they themselves think, when they do but dream. Sometimes it is made a veil to cover something which we would not have seen, and we call that the Mystical sense of Scripture which is none at all. For men are too ready to draw a veil again over that which is now made manifest, to obscure that which cannot

be too plain, nor made plainer then it is. Quaerunt quod nus∣quam est, inveniunt tamen; They seek for that which is no where to be found, and yet they find it out, but as he found Juno who embraced a cloud. Whatsoever they see is a mystery, and yet they see it as Isidore found out a mysterie,* 1.41 the Old and New Testament, in the nose and cleft of a penne.

I know there be in Scripture, and frequently in the New Te∣stament, many metaphorical expressions, from Bread, from Fire and Water, from Sowing and Planting, from Generation, Adop∣tion, and the like; Which were used not to make mysteries, but to open them, signandis rebus & sub oculos subjiciendis, to set a mark upon things, and to declare and unfold them to the ve∣ry eye, that so they might enter with more light and ease into the mind, which (as the Jewish Rabbies were wont to say) was to find out the lost pearl with a candle of an half-peny, and with these common and familiar resemblances to dive into the cistern of Truth, and draw it out. Christ, who came down to teach us, was the light of the World; and what he taught, was as open as the Day to all but to those who loved darkness more then light, and it will shine in its full strength to all that will look up upon it to the end of the World. Nor could it be his will, who came to save us, that his saving Truth should be shewn by half and dark lights, or that Divines, who call themselves his Ministers, should be like those Philosophers who did Philosophiam ad syl∣labas vocare,* 1.42 as Seneca complaineth, draw Philosophy down to words and syllables, so that at last it was shut up and lost in phrases and second notions and terms of art, which brought little improvement to the better part, and made men rather talkative then wise. For we may observe that the same noy∣some and pestilent wind which so withered Philosophy till it was shrunk up into a name, being nothing but a body of words, hath blown also upon Divinity, and blasted that which was ordain∣ed to be the very life of our souls; Which was more pure and plain when mens lives were so, but is now sullied with much handling, and made much unlike it self, daubed over with glosses as with untempered morter, wrought out into Questi∣ons, beat out into Distinctions, and is made an Art, which is

the Wisdome of God to Salvation. The Schoolmen did toze and draw it out, and then made it up in knots. The Postil∣lers played with it, and made it well-neer ridiculous: And we have seen some such unseemly Jigs in our dayes. And there have been too many Theorical Divines, who have stretched beyond their line, beyond the understanding of their hearers, and beyond their own; wrought darkness out of light, made that obscure which was plain, that perplexed which was easie, have handled Metaphors as Chymists do metals, and extracted that out of them, which Christ never put into them; made them less in∣telligible by pressing them so far, and by beating them out have made them nothing; made them more obscure then the thing which they should shew; yield us 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, a sea of words, but not a word of sense. To be regenerate is something more then to be made good who were evil; To be a new creature is something more (if we could tell what it were) then to be a just and righteous man; and we are born and made what we are against our will. And what hath followed this bold obtruding of our own thin and forced conceits upon the Church under the high commanding form of necessary truths? Even that which hath been observed of Philosophy. When men made Wisdom the only aim and end of their studies, then Philosophy was it self, in its prime and natural glory, being drawn up unto its proper end: But when they applied themselves to it only to fill up their time, or satisfie their ambition, or delight their wits, then she lost her native complexion or strength, and degenera∣ted into folly; then Epicurus raised a swarm of Atomes, Dioge∣nes made him a Tub, and the Stoicks brought in their Decrees and Paradoxes; then were there Mille familiarum nomina, so ma∣ny sects that it is not easie to draw them into a catalogue: some there were who declared their different opinions and disputed one against the other by outward signes alone, as by Weeping and Laughing. So we find it also in the Church of Christ, that Divinity never suffered so much as when it was made matter of wit and ambition, and Policy and Faction became moderatours and staters of questions. Then every man became an interpre∣ter of Scripture, and every interpreter had need of another to

interpret him. Then men taught the Law as Moses received it, out of a thick cloud, and Darkness was drawn over the face of Life it self, and men received it as it was taught, and did un∣derstand them who did not understand themselves, received it as newes out of a far country, and conceived of it either more or less then it vvas, received it in parcels and fragments, which hung like meteors in their phansie, or as indigested lumps in their minds, which soon broke out into sores and ulcers, and one was a Libertine, another an Anabaptist, another a Leveller; and some there were vvho did distinguish themselves by the motion and gesture, and some (vvhich is strange) by the nakedness of their bodies. And thus mischief grew up and multiplied through the blindness or deceitfulness of teachers and the folly and mad∣ness of the people. Which evil had not certainly so far over∣run the Church, if men vvould have kept themselves vvithin their own limits, and not took upon them to be vviser then God; if the Truth had been as plainly taught as it vvas first delivered, and not held out by mens ignorance or ambition, and set forth vvith vvords and phrases and affected notions of our own; if all men would have contended for and rested in that Faith alone which was once delivered to the Saints.* 1.43

And this I markt and avoided, and in the course of my Mini∣stery run from as far as a good will with my weakness could carry me. And as I strook at those errours which are most common, and did strive to set up in their place those truths which are most necessary, so I did indeavour to do it to the very eye with all plainness and evidence, and as near as I could in the language of him who for us men and for our salvation did first publish them to the world; To which end, and to which alone, next to the glory of God, these my rude and ill-polished papers are consecrate. And if they attein this in many, or few, or but one, I have a most ample recompense for my labour, and Praise and Dispraise shall be to me both alike; for the one can∣not make these Sermons better, nor the other worse. I know others before me have raised themselves up to a higher pitch, and strook at Errour with more art, and brought more strength to the building up of the Truth; and I have seen Truth exalted and Fals∣hood

led in triumph gloriously by those whom God and their industry hath more fitted to the work; I have therefore offer∣ed my self up to it but as some Succours, which come when the day and heat is over, who, though they do not help, yet shew their good will; And we know that even they who bring on the baggage do some service.

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Naz. Orat. 20.

The God of patience and consolation grant that we may be like-minded one towards another according to Christ Jesus, that we may with one mind and one mouth glorifie God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Rom. 15.5, 6.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Jer. 10.23.
• * 1.2

  2 Mach. 15.38.
• * 1.3

  Suspensa semper & obscura ver∣ba, &c. Tac. 1. Annal.
• * 1.4

  Nulla tem∣pestas diu durat. Sen. N.Q.
• * 1.5

  Gen. 27.41. & 33.4.
• * 1.6

  Matth. 10.34, 35, 36.
• * 1.7

  Exod. 10.13, 15.
• * 1.8

  Odium The∣logorum a Proverb in Luther's time.
• a 1.9

  Augustine.
• b 1.10

  Bellarm.
• * 1.11

  Gen. 3.
• * 1.12

  1 Sam. 15.32.
• * 1.13

  Apul. De mundo.
• * 1.14

  Quintil.
• * 1.15

  Nunquam tam benè cum rebus humanis a∣gebatur ut plures essent meliores, Sen. de Cle∣ment. 1.
• * 1.16

  Orat. pro Muraena.
• * 1.17

  Acts 4.12.
• * 1.18

  Hebr. 12.2.
• * 1.19

  — Nullum verbum emi∣sit quod re∣vocare vel∣let — Quae laus credibilior est de nimio fatuo quam de sapiente perfecto, August. E∣pist. 2. 1 Thess. 5.21.
• * 1.20

  Acts 10.
• * 1.21

  2 Pet. 1.19.
• * 1.22

  BEATI PACIFI∣CI, King James his Motto or Dicton.
• * 1.23

  Psal. 122 3. Psal, 72.7.
• * 1.24

  Jude 19.
• * 1.25

  Senec. Con∣trov.
• * 1.26

  Job. 19.25.
• * 1.27

  1 Cor. 15.19.
• * 1.28

  1 Cor. 15.43.
• * 1.29

  Jude 3.
• * 1.30

  Gal. 5.6.
• * 1.31

  Joh. 10.27.
• * 1.32

  Tit. 1.16.
• * 1.33

  Val. Max. 8. 11.
• * 1.34

  Gal. 5.24.
• * 1.35

  2 Cor. 1.20.
• * 1.36

  2 Cor. 10.5.
• * 1.37

  Rev. 2.10
• * 1.38

  Heb. 12.17.
• * 1.39

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Damasc. in Excerptis Photii Cod, CCXLII.
• * 1.40

  1 Cor. 2.7. Rom. 16.25.
• * 1.41

  Pennae acu∣men dividi∣tur in duo, in toto corpore servata uni∣tate; credo propter my∣sterium, I∣sid. Orig. l. 6. c. 14. Quint. l. 8. Instit. c. 6.
• * 1.42

  Epist. 72.
• * 1.43

  Jude 3.