with abundance; he doth it not without a further blessing of sanctification. Some kinds of fishes there are, that pass for delicate with our great masters of the palate, which yet must have the dangerous string in their backs pulled out, ere they can be safely fed upon such is worldly wealth and prosperity: the wise and holy God plucks out their venom, when he will have them served up for dainties to his children's table. Or if he find that the deceitfulness of riches will be apt to beguile good souls, he deals with them as careful gardeners are wont to do by those trees from which they expect fair fruit; they abate the number of their blossoms, as more caring they should be good, than full.

Lastly then, how can we account those things arguments of favour, of which the best have had least? Even the great Lord of all the world, for whom heaven itself was too strait, when he would come down and converse with men, could say, "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head:" and when the tribute money was demanded, he is fain to send for it, to the next fish: shortly, he wore out his few days upon earth in so penal a way, that his sorrows were read in his face; insomuch that when he was but two-and-thirty years of age, the by-standers could say, "Thou art not yet fifty."

What proofs of divine favour then are these to presume upon, which the worst have; which the best want; which God ofttimes gives in judgment, denies in mercy?

[2.] There cannot be a more sure remedy for presumption of abilities, than to take an exact survey of our graces, both of their truth and degrees. Satan is a great imposter. He who was once an angel of light; knows how to seem so still. When he ceased to be an angel, he began to be a serpent; and his continual experience cannot but have added to his art; so that he knows how to counterfeit graces, both in himself and his, in so exquisite a fashion, that it is not for every eye to discern them from true. We see to what perfection mechanical imitation hath attained. What precious stones hath nature yielded, which is not so artificially counterfeited, both in the colour and lustre, that only the skilful lapidary can descry it? pearls

so resembled, that, for whiteness, clearness, smoothness, they dare contend with the true! gold, so cunningly multiplied and tinctured, that neither the eye can distinguish it, nor the touch, scarcely the crucible: so that art would seem to be a Havilah," whose gold is good;" while nature is an Ophir, "whose gold is exceeding good!" What marvel is it then, if crafty spirits can make so fair representations of spiritual excellencies, as may well deceive ordinary judgments? the Pythoness's Samuel was so like the true, that Saul adored him for such; and Jannes and Jambres made their wooden serpent to crawl so nimbly and hiss so fiercely, that till Moses's serpent devoured theirs, the beholders knew not which were more formida ble. Some false things seem more probable, than many truths. There must be therefore much serious and accurate disquisition, ere we can pass a true judgment betwixt apparent and real graces.

Neither would it require less than a volume to state the differences, whereby we may discriminate counterfeit vir'tues from true, in all their several specialties. They are faced alike; they are clad alike; the marks are inward, and scarcely discernible by any but the owner's eyes. In a generality, we shall thus descry them in our own hearts -true grace is right-bred, of a divine original, and "cometh down from above, even from the Father of lights;" God's Spirit, working with and by his own ordinances, produceth it in the soul, and feeds it by the same holy means it is wrought: the counterfeit is earth-bred, arising from mere nature, out of the grounds of sensuality. True grace drives at no other end, than the glory of the Giver, and scorns to look lower than heaven; the counterfeit aims at nothing, but vain applause or carnal advantage, not caring to reach an inch above his own head. True grace is apt to cross the most plausible inclinations of corrupt nature; and cheers up the heart to a delightful performance of all good duties, as the best pastime: the counterfeit is a mere parasite of fleshly appetite, and finds no harshness but in holy devotions. True grace is undauntedly constant in all opposition; and, like a well wrought vault, is so much the stronger, by how much more weight it undergoes; this metal is purer for the fire: this eagle can look upon

the hottest sun; the counterfeit shews most gloriously in prosperity, but, when the evil day cometh, it looks like the skin of a dead camelion, nasty and deformed. Lastly, true grace is best alone: the counterfeit is all for wit

nesses.

In brief, if, in a holy jealousy of our own deceitfulness, we shall put daily interrogatories to our hearts, and pass them under severe examinations, we shall not be in danger to presume upon our mistaken graces; but the more we search, the more cause we shall find of humialition, and of an awful recognition of God's mercy and our own unworthiness.

(4.) The way not to presume upon salvation, is, in an humble modesty, to content ourselves with the clearly revealed will of our Maker, not prying into his counsels, but attending his commands. It is a grave word, wherein the vulgate translation expresses that place of Solomon," Scrutator majestatis, opprimetur à gloriâ;" "He that searcheth into majesty, shall be overwhelmed with glory," Proverbs xxv. 27. Amongst those sixteen places of the Bible, which, in the Hebrew, are marked with a special note of regard, that is one; "The secret things belong unto the Lord our God; but those things which are revealed, belong unto us and to our children for ever; that we may do all the words of this law," Deut. xxix. 29. Wherein our main care must be, both not to sever, in our conceit, the end from the means; and withal to take the means along with us, in our way to the end. It is for the heavenly angels to climb down the ladder from heaven to earth: it is for us only to climb from earth to heaven. Bold men! why do we begin at God's eternal decree of our election; and thence descend to the effects of it, in our effectual calling, in our lively and stedfast faith, in our sad and serious repentance, in our holy and unblameable obedience, in our unfailable perseverance? This course is saucily preposterous. What have we to do, to be rifling the hidden counsels of the Highest? Let us look to our own ways. We have his word for this, that if we do truly believe, repent, obey, persevere, we shall be saved; that if we do heartily desire and effectually endeavour, in the careful use of his appointed means, to

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attain unto these saving dispositions of the soul, we shall be sure not to fail of success. What need we look any further, than conscionably and cheerfully to do what we are enjoined, and faithfully and comfortably to expect what he hath promised? Let it be our care not to be wanting in the parts of our duty to God; we are sure he cannot be wanting, in his gracious performances unto us. But if we, in a groundless conceit of an election, shall let loose the reins to our sinful desires and vicious practices, thereupon growing idle or unprofitable, we make divine mercy a pander to our uncleanness, and justly perish in our wicked presumption.

3. The other extreme follows. It may seem a harsh word, but it is a true one, that there may be an evil fear of a good God; a fear of horror, and a fear of distrust. That God who is love itself, is terrible to a wicked heart. Even in the beginning, our first progenitor ran from the face of his late Maker, and hid him in the thickets: for it is a true observation of Tertullian, "No wickedness can be done without fear, because not without the conscience of doing it." Neither can any man flee from himself, as Bernard says: and this conscience reads the terrible things that God writes against the sinner; and holds the glass wherein guilty eyes may see the killing frowns of the Almighty. Now offensive objects cause the spirits to retire, as philosophy and experience teach us; whereupon follows a necessary trepidation in the whole frame of the body. And now the wicked heart could wish there were no God; or, which is all one, that this God had not power to avenge himself; and finding that after all his impotent volitions, the Almighty will be still and ever himself, he is unspeakably affrighted with the expectation of that just hand which he cannot avoid. This terror, if, through the improvement of God's mercy, at the last it drive the sinner to a true penitence, makes a happy amends for its own anguish: otherwise it is but the first flash of that unquenchable fire, which is prepared for damned souls. In this case, men do not so much fear God, as they are afraid of him; and such a torturing fear is never but joined with heart-burning and hatred: wherein sinners demean themselves to God, as they say the lamprey doth to the fisher, by whose

first blow that fish is said to be dulled and astonished, but it is enraged with the next and following. Wretched men! it is not God's fault, that he is terribly just: no; it is his glory, that he is mercifully terrible. It is not for me to say, as Spalatensis cites from Cyril, that those who would not be saved, are no less beholden to the bounty of the good God, than those that are brought home to glory. I know and bless God for the difference. But certainly God is wonderfully gracious, as he is also infinitely just, even to those who will needs incur damnation; having tendered unto them many powerful helps to their repentance, which he hath, with much patience and longanimity, expected. Therefore that God is just, it is his own praise; that he is terrible, we may thank ourselves, for were it not for our wickedness, there were nothing in God which is not infinitely amiable.

Seest thou then, O sinful man, nothing at all in God's face, but frowns and fury? Doth every beam of his angry eye dart vengeance into thy soul, so that thou wouldst fain run away from his presence; and woo the rocks and mountains to fall upon thee, and hide thee from the sight of that dreadful countenance? Cleanse thy hands: purge thy heart: clear thine eyes with the tears of true contrition and then look up, and tell me, whether thou dost not see a happy change of aspect; whether thou canst now discern ought in that face, but a glorious loveliness, fatherly indulgence, unconceivable mercy; such as shall ravish thy soul with a divine love, with a joy unspeakable and glorious.

4. Seldom ever is the fear of horror separated from a fear of distrust; which, in the height of it, is that which we call despair; for when the soul apprehends a deep fear of God's dereliction, it cannot but be filled with horror. Now as the holy and well moderated fear gives glory to God in all his attributes, so this extreme of it affronts and dishonours him in them all, but especially in his mercy and truth-in his truth, suggesting that God will not make good his promises; in his mercy, suggesting that he either cannot or will not forgive and save. It was a true observation of St. Hilary, that "it is not the least office and effect of faith, to fear:" for that it is said by the pro