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J-J

NICHOL'S SERIES OF STANDARD DIVINES.

PUEITAN PERIOD.

iflj (Smeral flnfax*

BY JOHN C. MILLEK, D.D.,

LINCOLN COIXEGE ; HONORARY CANON OF WORCESTER J RECTOR OF ST MARTIN'S, BIRMINGHAM.

THE

WOMS OF STEPHEN CHAENOCK, B.D.

VOL. I.

COUNCIL OF PUBLICATION.

W. LINDSAY ALEXANDER, D.D., Professor of Theology, Congregational Union, Edinburgh.

JAMES BEGG, D.D., Minister of Newington Free Church, Edinburgh. THOMAS J. CRAWFORD, D.D., S.T.P., Professor of Divinity, University, Edinburgh.

D. T. K. DRUMMOND, M.A., Minister of St Thomases Episcopal Church,

Edinburgh. WILLIAM H. GOOLD, D.D., Professor of Biblical Literature and Church

History, Reformed Presbyterian Church, Edinburgh. ANDREW THOMSON, D.D., Minister of Broughton Place Unite.! Preeby-

ieriau Church, Edinburgh.

9mril <5imor.

EEV. THOMAS SMITH, M.A., Edinburgh.

THE COMPLETE WORKS

OP

STEPHEN CHARNOCK, B.D.

Wiify f ntoimrtbn

BY THE KEV. JAMES M'COSH, LL.D.,

PROFESSOR OF LOGIC AND METAPHYSICS, QUEEN'S COLLEGE, BELFAST.

VOL. I.

CONTAINING

DISCOUKSES ON DIVINE PEOVIDENCE,

AND

THE EXISTENCE AND ATTBIBUTES OF GOD.

EDINBURGH: JAMES NICHOL.

LONDON : JAMES NISBET AND CO. DUBLIN : W. ROBERTSON.

M.DCCC.LXIV.

KDINBURQH BT JOHN OREIO AND SON, OLD PHTSIC GARDENS.

/A UH (9/3

CONTENTS.

Paqr INTRODUCTION vii

A TREATISE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE.

To the Reader. ...... 3

A Discourse of Divine Providence. . . 2 Chron. XVI. 9. 6

DISCOURSE ON THE EXISTENCE AND ATTRIBUTES OF GOD.

To the Reader. .....

A Discourse upon the Existence of God. . Ps. XIV. 1. Practical Atheism. . . . Ps. XIV. 1.

A Discourse upon God's being a Spirit. . John IV. 24.

A Discourse upon Spiritual Worship. . John IV. 24.

A Discourse upon the Eternity of God. . Ps. XC. 2.

A Discourse upon the Immutability of God. Ps. CII. 26, 27.

A Discourse upon God's Omnipresence. . Jer. XXIII. 24.

A Discourse upon God's Knowledge. . Ps. CXLVII. 5.

123 126 183 258 283 345 374 420 457

INTRODUCTION TO CHARLOCK'S WORKS.

I. HIS LIFE.

The memorials of the life of Charnock are much scantier than those who have profited by his writings, or who are interested in the history of the time, could wish. We have some notices of him in the sermon preached at his funeral by his ' bosom friend' Mr Johnson ; a vague general account of him in an epistle ' To the Keader,' prefixed by Mr Adams and Mr Veal, the editors, to his ' Discourse of Divine Providence,' published shortly after his death ; a brief life of him by Calamy in his 1 Account of the Ejected and Silenced ; ' his collegiate positions detailed by Wood in his Athena Oxonienses and Fasti; and this is all the original matter that we have been able to discover regard- ing the author of the great work ' On the Attributes.' Mr Johnson says, ■ he heard a narrative of his life would be drawn up by an able hand ; ' and Calamy mentions that Memoirs of Mr Steph. Charnock were written by Mr John Gunter, his ' chamber-fellow ' at Oxford ; but of these we have not been able to find any trace. We have made researches in London, in Cambridge, and in Dublin, without being rewarded by the discovery of many new facts, not given by the original authorities. All that we have aimed at in the following Memoir is to combine the scattered accounts of him, to allot the incidents the proper place in his life and in the general history of the times, and thus to furnish, if not a full, yet a faithful, picture of the man and his work.*

Stephen Charnock was born in the parish of Saint Catherine Cree (or Creechurch), London, in the year 1628. He was the son of Mr Eichard Charnock, a solicitor, who was descended from an ancient Lancashire family, the Charnocks of Charnock. We have no account of his childish or boyish years, or of his training in the family. But we know what was the spirit that reigned around him among the great body of the middle classes

* The writer is under deep obligations to the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart, Kinross ; the Eev. Dr Halley, New College, London; Joshua Wilson, Esq., Tunbridge Wells ; and Charles Henry Cooper, Esq., author of the Annals of Cambridge, for directing him in his researches.

VU1 INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK S WORKS.

in the best parts of the metropolis. An awe sat upon their minds in consequence of the great national collisions wThich were impending or had commenced ; public sports were discouraged, as agreeing not with 'public calamities,' and the Lord's day- was observed with great strictness. The churches were crowded with earnest hearers, and ' religious exercises were set up in private families, as reading the Scriptures, family prayer, re- peating sermons, and singing psalms, which were so universal in the city of London, that you might walk the streets on the evening of the Lord's day without seeing an idle person, or hearing anything but the voice of prayer or praise from churches or private houses.'*

In those times students entered college at a much earlier age than they now do, and had their university career over in suffi- cient time to enable them to enter when yet young on their several professional employments, Stephen was matriculated as a sizar at Cambridge July 8, 1642. Whether by the design of his father, or by the leadings of providential circumstances, we have no means of knowing, but young Charnock was sent to Emmanuel, the ' Puritan College,' so called, it is said, from a conversation between Queen Elizabeth and its founder, Sir Walter Mildmay. ' Sir Walter,' said the Queen, ' I hear you have erected a puritan foundation at Cambridge.' ' Madam,' said Sir Walter, ' far be it from me to countenance anything contrary to your Majesty's established lawrs ; but I have set an acorn which, when it becomes an oak, God alone knows what will be the fruit thereof.' In 1641, it had 204 students attend- ing, standing next to St John's and Trinity in respect of numbers ;t and occupying a still higher place in respect of the eminence of its pupils. ' Sure I am,' says Fuller, ' it has overwhelmed all the university, more than a moiety of the pre- sent masters of colleges having been bred therein.1

Charnock entering in 1642, is proceeding B.A. in 1645-6, and commencing M.A. in 1649. We have no difficulty in appre- hending the spirit which reigned in Cambridge when lie began his college life. The J Reformation struggle was over, and earnest men saw that the Reformed Cliureh, with its worldly, often immoral and ill-educated, clergy, and its ignorant people, was yet very far from coming up to the pattern which Christ

was supposed to have shewn to his apostles. Two manner of

spirits had sprung up and were contending with each other. Bach had an id* a,l, and was labouring to bring the church into aeeordaiH-e with it. The one looked to the written word, and was seeking to draw forth, syslemat i/,e, and exhibit its truths; the other looked more to the chun di, and was striving to display its visible unity before the world, that men's looks and hearts might be attracted towards it. The one was internal, personal,

puritan, anxious to keep up the connection between the church

and its Head, and between the members of the church in and

• N< aJ'« History of tlir /'urituiis, I64& f Oooptr'l Annals of Cambridge, 1011.

HIS LIFE. IX

through Christ ; the other was external, ecclesiastical, priestly, seeking to retain the connection of the Church of England with the church of the past and the church universal, and to organize it into a powerful hody, which might put down all error and all schism, and mould the whole institutions and sentiments of the country.

Every public event of interest, and every collegiate influence, must have tended to press religious questions upon the attention of the student at the time when his character was being formed. The Thirty Years' War, which had begun in 1618, was dragging its weary length along, and was essentially a religious conflict which the continental nations were seeking to settle by arms and by policy. The colonies of Plymouth and Massachussets, Connecticut and Newhaven, had been founded in the far west, and Herbert had sung, in a sense of his own,

" Eeligion stands a tiptoe in our land, Heady to pass to the American strand."

In 1641, the three kingdoms had been moved by the reports of the popish massacres in Ireland, in which it was said two hundred thousand protestants were put to death. In 1642, Charles had made his attempt to seize the ' five members/ and soon after the civil war began, and the king had rather the worst of it at the battle of Edge Hill. By the autumn it was ordained that the prelatic form of government should be abo- lished from and after November 5. 1643 ; and it was farther resolved that an assembly of divines should be called to settle the intended reformation, which assembly actually met at West- minster in July 1643, and continued its sittings for five years and a half.

In Cambridge, the feeling has risen to a white heat, and is ready to burst into a consuming flame. For years past there had been a contest between those who were for modelling the colleges after the ecclesiastical, and those who wished to fashion them after the puritan type. In a paper drawn up in the uni- versity in 1636, and endorsed by Laud as ' Certain disorders in Cambridge to be considered in my visitation,' there is a com- plaint that the order as to vestments is not attended to ; that the undergraduates wear new-fashioned gowns of any colour what- soever, and that their other garments are light and gay ; that upon Fridays and all fasting days, the victualling houses pre- pare flesh for all scholars and others that will come and send to them, and that many prefer their own invented and unapproved prayers before all the liturgy of the church. When the report comes to Emmanuel, it says, ' Their Chappel is not consecrate. At surplice prayers they sing nothing but certain riming psalms of their own appointment, instead of Hymnes between the Lessons. And Lessons they read not after the order appointed in the Cal- lendar, but after another continued course of their own,' &c. But by 1643 the complaint takes an entirely different turn ; and an ordinance of both houses of parliament is made, directing

X INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK S WORKS.

that in all churches and chapels, all altars and tables of stone shall be taken away and demolished ; that all communion tables shall be removed from the east end of the churches ; that all crucifixes, crosses, images, and pictures of any one or more persons of the Trinity, or of the Virgin Mary, and all other images and pictures of saints or superstitious inscriptions in churches or chapels shall be taken away or defaced.' One Wil- liam Downing puts this order in execution, and at Queen's he beats down one hundred superstitious pictures ; but when he comes to Emmanuel, ' there is nothing to be done.' These scenes must have fallen under the notice of the boy Charnock during the first year of his collegiate life. More startling sounds still must have reached the ears of the young student. Oliver Cromwell, who had been elected one of the burgesses of the town in 1640, has a close and intimate connection with the inhabitants ; and in 1642 he is sending down arms to the county ; the Parliament has committed the care of the town to him, the mayor, and three aldermen, who raise and exercise trained bands and volunteers ; and he seizes a portion of the plate which the colleges are sending to the king. By the beginning of the following year, Cromwell has taken the magazine in the castle, the town is fortified, and a large body of armed men are in the place ; the colleges are being beset and broken open, and guards thrust into them, sometimes at midnight, wThilst the scholars are asleep in their beds, and multitudes of soldiers are quartered in them. By this time Holdsworth, the Master of Emmanuel, is in custody, and Dr Beale, Master of St John's, Dr Martin, President of Queen's College, and Dr Sterne, Master of Jesus, are sent up to parliament as prisoners.* In 1644, the royalists are ejected, and their places supplied by friends of the parliament.

At the time young Charnock entered, the sentiment of the members of the university was very much divided. Even in Emmanuel the opinion was not altogether puritan. The tutor from whom Charnock received his chief instruction was Mr W. Sancroft (afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury), who was attached to the royalist cause, and had joined in the congratu- latory addresses to the king OH his return from Scotland in 1641. I>r Holdsworth, who was Master of Emmanuel when Charnock entered, was appointed by the Lords, and approved by the Commons, afl One of the divines to sit at Westminster; but he never attended, and in 1648 he was imprisoned, and in the

following year ejected. The spirit of Emmanuel had been all along reforming and parliamentary, and after the ejectments all ill.- colleges became so. Dr Anthony Tnokney, who suc- ceeded Holdsworth in the Mastership of Kmmanuel, was an active member Of the Westminster Assembly, and 'had a. con- siderable band/ Bays Calamy, 'in the preparation of the Con- fession and Catechisms.' I»r Arrowsmith, made Master o\' St * ThotC facts are- gathered out of Cooper's AmiaU of Ciimbruljc, vol. iii. ID t'J-4.

HIS LIFE. XI

John's, and Dr Hill, appointed Master of Trinity, were of the same puritan spirit. Cudworth, Culverwel, and Whichcote, who had all been connected with Emmanuel, and held places in the university after the ejection, could scarcely be described as of the puritan type, but they were opposed to the policy which the king had been pursuing, and the ecclesiastical system which Laud intended to set up. In the university and the town, the popular preaching was decidedly evangelical and Calvinistic. In particular, Dr Samuel Hammond preached in St Giles 'with such pious zeal, liveliness, and Christian experience, that his ministry was attended by persons from all parts of the town and the most distant colleges ; and it was crowned with the conver- sion of some scores (Mr Stancliff says some hundreds) of scholars. It was generally allowed that there was not a more successful minister in Cambridge since the time of Perkins.'*

This state of things, the conflicts of the time, the talk of the tutors and students, the earnest preaching in the churches, the spiritual struggles in many a bosom, and the necessity for under- standing the questions at issue, and coming to a decision with its life consequences, all these must have tended to press religion on the personal attention of so earnest a youth as Charnock was. Without any living faith when he came to Cambridge, he was there led to search and pray ; he was for a time in darkness, and beset with fears and temptations, but he got light and direction from above, and he devoted himself to God for life. He subse- quently wrote out a paper explaining the way by which he was led, and declaring his dedication, but it perished in the great fire of London. Mr Johnson met him in 1644 ; and in the sermon which he delivered at his funeral, represents him * as venerable and grave, like an aged person from his youth,' and gives the following account of his conversion and his Cambridge life : — * The deed of gift, or rather copy of it, which shewed his title to heaven, I believe perished with his books in London's flames, and I have forgot the particular places of Scripture by which he was most wrought upon, and which were there inserted.' ' He would deeply search into and prove all things, and allow only what he found pure and excellent.' ' In this I had him in my heart at my first acquaintanceship with him in Cambridge thirty- six years since. I found him one that, Jonah-like, had turned to the Lord with all his heart, all his soul, and all his might, and none like him ; which did more endear him to me. How had he hid the word of God in a fertile soil, "in a good and honest heart," which made him "flee youthful lusts," and antidoted him against the infection of youthful vanities. His study was his recreation ; the law of God was his delight. Had he it not, think ye, engraven in his heart? He was as choice, circum- spect, and prudent in his election of society, as of books, to con- verse with ; all his delight being in such as excelled in the divine art of directing, furthering, and quickening him in the * Calamy's ' Account of Ejected,' Art. Samuel Hammond.

Ill INTRODUCTION TO CHAKNOCZ's WORKS.

way to heaven, the love of Christ and souls. Most choice he was of the ministers that he wTould hear ; what he learned from books, converse, or sermons, that which affected and wrought most upon him he prayed over till he was delivered into the form of it, and had Christ, grace, and the Spirit formed in him. True, he had been in darkness, and then he said full of doubt- ings, fears, and grievously pestered with temptations. How oft have we found him (as if he had lately been with Paul caught up into the third heavens, and heard unspeakable wrords) magnify- ing and adoring the mercy, love, and goodness of God.'

We know from general sources what was the course of secular instruction imparted in the colleges at this time. Aristotle still ruled, though no longer with an undisputed sway, in the lessons of the tutors. There is an account left by a pupil, Sir Simonds D' Ewes, of the books prescribed by Dr Holdsworth in 1618-19, when he was a tutor in St John's, and probably there was not much difference in Emmanuel when he became master: 'We went over all Seton's Logic exactly, and part of Keckerman and Molinaeus. Of ethics or moral philosophy, he read to me Gelius and part of Pickolomineus ; of physics, part of Magirus ; and of history, part of Fionas.' ' I spent the next month (April 1619) very laboriously in the perusal of Aristotle's physics, ethics, and politics ; and I read logic out of several authors.' * But for an ago or two there had been a strong reaction against Aristotle on the part of the more promising pupils. Bacon had left Trinity College in the previous century with a profound dis- satisfaction with the scholastic studies, and already cogitating those grand views which he gave to the world in his Nor urn Organum (1620), as to the importance of looking to things instead of notions and words. Milton, in his College Exercises (1625 to 1682), had in his own grandiose style, and by help of mythological fable, given expression to his discontent with the narrow technical method followed, and to his breathings after some undefined improvement.! Tin1 predominant philosophic spirit in Cambridge prior to the Great Rebellion was Platonic rather than Aristotelian. This was exhibited by a number of learned and profound writers who rose about this time, and who

continue to be known by the name of the ' Cambridge Moralists.' In Emmanuel College, before thi ejectment, there were Which- cote, author of Moral and Religious Aphorisms, and o[' Letter* to Tuckney (1651) ; Nathanael Culvexwel, author of the masterly work Of the Light of Nature \ (1661) j and Ralph Cndworth, who produced the great work on Thi 'True Intellectual System of ihr Universe, all promoted to important offices in Cambridge under the Commonwealth. There were also in Cambridge Henry More, author of the Enchiridion Mttaphyriciun, and John

* Mi on' i / "'-• "/' Milton, p. 229.

f Familiar l.rttnx in Mu.iiun's RlfltOf), j> 240.

X Boe tin! vuhkiMo edition l>y John Brown. D.D., with n oritionl onnj by John

Cuirn.i, D.D.

HIS LIFE. Xlll

Smith, author of the Select Discourses. All of those great men had caught, and were cherishing, a lofty Platonic spirit. While they implicitly received and devoutly revered the Bible as the inspired book of God, they entertained at the same time a high idea of the office of reason, and delighted in the contem- plation of the eternal verities which they believed it to sanction, and sought to unite them with the living and practical truths of Christianity. Nor is it to be forgotten that John Howe, who entered Christ College in 1647, imbibed from Cudworth, More, and Smith his ' Platonic tincture,' which however was more thoroughly subordinated in him to the letter of Scripture. But in those times there was probably a still greater number of students whose college predilections would be those of Hey- wood : ' My time and thoughts were more employed in practical divinity, and experimental truths were more vital and vivifical to my soul. I preferred Perkins, Bolton, Preston, Sibbes, far above Aristotle, Plato, Magirus, and Wendeton, though I despise no laborious authors in these subservient studies.' *

Charnock was all his life a laborious student. We can infer what must have been his favourite reading, begun at college and continued to his death. While not ignorant of the physical science of his time, there is no reason to believe that he entered deeply into it. However, we are expressly told by Adams and Veal that he had arrived at a considerable knowledge of medi- cine, and that he was prevented from giving himself farther to it only by his dedication to a higher work. There are no traces of his having fallen under the bewitching spirit of Platonism, which so prevailed among the profounder students of Cam- bridge ; but he characterises Plato as ' the divine philosopher/ he quotes More and Culverwel, and his own philosophy is of a wide and catholic character. It is quite clear from his syste- matic method, that he had received lessons from the Aristotelian logic, as modified by the schoolmen ; but he never allowed it to bind and shackle him. He shews a considerable acquaintance with the ancient Greek philosophy, including the mystics of the Neoplatonist school. He is familiar with the writings of many of the fathers, and quotes from them in a way which shews that he understood them. He does not disdain to take instruction from Aquinas and the schoolmen when it serves his purpose. Among contemporary philosophic writers, he quotes from Gassendi and Voetius. His favourite uninspired writers were evidently the reformers, and those who defended and systematised their theology. Amyraut, and Suarez, and Daille were evidently favourites ; and he was familiar with Tur- retine, Ames, Zanchius, Cocceius, Crellius, Cameron, Grotius, and many others ; nay, he is not so bigoted as to overlook the high church Anglican divines of his own age. But we venture to say that, deeply read as he was in the works of unin- spired men, he devoted more time to the study of the word

* Hunter's Life of Oliver Heywood, p. 46.

Xiv INTRODUCTION TO CHAENOCK S WORKS.

of God than to all other writings whatsoever. As to his lin- guistic accomplishments Mr Johnson, himself a scholar, says, * I never knew any man who had attained near unto that skill which he had in both their originals [that is, of the Scriptures], except Mr Thomas Cawton;' and Mr Cawton, it seems, knew Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Arabic, French, Dutch, Italian, and Spanish.

Thus furnished by divine gift and acquired scholarship, he set out on the work to which he had devoted himself. ' Not long after he had received light himself,' says Johnson, 'when the Lord by his blessing on his endeavours had qualified him for it, such was his love, he gave forth light unto others, inviting them, and saying, " Come and see Jesus." In Southwark, where seven or eight, in that little time Providence continued him there, owed their conversion under God to his ministry; then in the university of Oxford and adjacent parts ; after in Dublin, where it might be said of his as it wTas of the Lord's preaching in the land of Zebulon, "the people which sat in darkness saw a great light." '

On leaving college, he is represented by Adams and Veal as spending some time in a private family, but whether as a tutor or a chaplain does not appear. He seems to have commenced his ministry in Southwark, where he knew of seven or eight per- sons who owned him as the instrument of their conversion ; and we may hope there were others profited, at a time when the mer- cantile and middle classes generally so crowTded to the house of God, and the preaching of the word was so honoured. In 1649 or thereabouts, says Wood, he retired to Oxford, purposely to obtain a fellowship' from the visitors appointed by the parliament when ' they ejected scholars by whole shoals ;' and in 1650, lie obtained a fellowship in New College. November 19. 1652, he is incorporated Master of Arts in Oxford, as he had stood in Cam- bridge. April 5. 1654 (not 1652, as Calamy says), he and Thomas Cracroft of Magdalene College are appointed Proctors of the univer- sity. Cliarnock, greatly respected for his gifts, his learning, and his piety, was frequently put upon ' public works.' In particular, he seems to have been often employed in preaching in Oxford and the adjacent parts. Here he had as his chamber-fellow, Mr John Gunter, who purposed to write, or did write, a life of him ; {Hid here he gained or renewed a friendship with Richard Adams,

formerly, like himself, of Cambridge, and now of lirazennose,

and Edward Veal of Christ's Church, and afterwards with him in Dublin, the two who joined, many yean after, in publishing his bhumous works. Here be connected himself with ' a ohuroh gathered among the scholars by Dr Goodwin,' a society which had the honour to bave enrolled among its members Thankful Owen, Francis Howel, Theophilua Gale, and John Howe/

who must, no doubt have enjoyed much sweet fellowship

together, and belped to edify one another. Oliver Cromwell, * Sm Life of Q Iwtn, in folio edition of Worke, Vol v.; end Gelemy'e Account

of Ejrrtrd, J oil 11 HuWO.

HIS LIFE. XV

Lord Protector, was chancellor of the university, and Dr Owen, vice-chancellor ; and an energetic attempt was made to produce and foster a high, though perhaps a somewhat narrow, scho- larship, and to exercise a discipline of a moral and religious character, such as Christian fathers set up in their families. Notwithstanding all that has been said against it, it was by no means of an uncheerful character, and young men of virtue and piety delighted in it ; but others, we fear, felt it irksome, because of the constant supervision, and the restraints meeting them on every hand, and the number of religious services imposed on them, and which could have been enjoyed only by converted persons. Lord Clarendon thinks that such a state of things might have been expected to extirpate all ' learning, religion, and loyalty,' and to be ' fruitful only in ignorance, profaneness, atheism, and rebellion ; ' but is obliged to admit that, ' by God's wonderful providence, that fruitful soil could not be made barren,' and that it yielded an harvest of extraordinary good knowledge in all parts of learning.' It could easily be shewn that the fruit was what might have been expected to spring from the labour bestowed and the seed sown. It is a matter of fact, as Neal remarks, that all the great philosophers and divines of the Church of England, who flourished in the reigns of Charles II. and William III., such as Tillotson, Stillingfleet, Patrick, South, Cave, Sprat, Kidder, Whitby, Bull, Boyle, Newton, Locke, and others, were trained under teachers appointed by parliament and Cromwell.*

The scene of Charnock's labours and usefulness was now shifted. Cromwell had subdued Ireland to the Commonwealth, and he and others longed to have the protestants in that country sup- plied with a pure and fervent gospel ministry. Dr John Owen had been in Ireland a year and a half, overseeing the affairs of Dublin College and preaching the gospel. He dates a work from * Dublin Castle, December 20. 1649,' and speaks of himself as ' burdened with manifold employments, with constant preaching to a numerous multitude of as thirsty people after the gospel as ever I conversed withal.' In the January following he returns to England, and has to preach before the Commons. Eeferring to Cromwell's victories, he says : — ' How is it that Jesus Christ is, in Ireland, only as a lion staining all his garments with the blood of his enemies, and none to hold him forth as a lamb sprinkled with his own blood for his friends ? Is it the sove- reignty and interest of England that is alone to be thus trans- acted ? For my part, I see no farther into the mystery of these things, but that I would heartily rejoice that innocent blood being expiated, the Irish might enjoy Ireland so long as the moon endureth, so that Jesus might possess the Irish.' ' I would there were, for the present, one gospel preacher for every walled town in the English possession in Ireland.' * They are sensible of their wants, and cry out for supply. The tears and cries of the inha-

* The History of the Puritans, 1647.

ivi INTRODUCTION TO CHAHNOCK S WORKS.

bitants of Dublin are ever in my view.' In the course of the year, grants of land are made for the better support of Dublin University, and the Commissioners brought with them several Christian ministers. Among them was Samuel Winter, who afterwards became Provost of Trinity College, and who preached every Lord's day in Christ Church Cathedral before Deputy Fleetwood and the Commissioners, his services being reserved specially for the afternoons, when was the * greatest auditory.' By 1654, Mr Veal, who had been in Oxford with Charnock, is a fellow of Dublin College, and some years after, is often exercising his ministry in and about the city of Dublin. Nor should we omit Mr John Murcot, who came from Lancashire in 1653, and preached with great fervour and acceptance to large numbers in Dublin and the south-west of Ireland, till the close of the follow- ing year, when he was cut off suddenly at the early age of twenty- nine, to the great grief of the Protestant inhabitants, — the Lord Deputy, and the Mayor, with a large body of citizens, following the body to the grave.*

Cromwell finding it necessary to restrain the republican Com- missioners in Ireland, sent over his ablest son Henry to watch their proceedings, and to succeed them in the government. "When he came to Ireland in August 1655, he brought with him gome eminent ministers of religion, among whom was Samuel Mather, who, ' with Dr Harrison, Dr Winter, and Mr Charnock,' attended on Lord Harry Cromwell, t Mather was one of a famous nonconformist family, well known on both sides of the Atlantic. A native of England, he received his education in Harvard College, but returned to his native country, and having spent some time at Oxford and Cambridge, and in Scotland, he now came to Dublin, where he was appointed a fellow of the University, and chosen colleague to Dr Winter, and had to preach every Lord's day at the church of St Nicholas, besides taking his turn every five or six weeks before the Lord Deputy and Council. Dr Thomas Harrison was born at Kingston-upon-Hull, but, like Mather, was brought up in America, and had returned to England, where he was chosen to succeed Dr Goodwin in London ; and now in Dublin he ie chaplain to Henry Cromwell, with a salary of ^°300 a year, and preaches in St WVrhur^h's.

It was in such company that Stephen ( namoek acted as one

of the chaplains of the chief governor of Ireland, living with

much respect in his family, we may suppose whether be resided at the Castle or in Phcetni Park, and enjoying a, stipend of £200 a year, worth ten times the same nonnmil sum in the present day-t When in Dublin, he wai also officially minister of St

* y ■.,/ Work* of Mr John Murcot. It. in n y l'<> nuMit iuiinl here that there is

trainable sketch of the itate of religion In Dublin at that time, in a lectors,

Jndrprnilrnci/ in Puhlin in I In' Oldrn Tunc, 1>V William l^rwiek, D.D.

f Galamy'i N»n<-on Mem, by Palmar, Art. Bamoal Mather. ! See Extract! from *The Civil Establishment of the Commonwealth fur Ireland, for the •• ' hi Appendii to vol. ii. of flalcft 'History of the Presbyt

Church iu lroluud.'

HIS LIFE. XV11

Werburgh's, and lecturer at Christ Church. St Werburgh's Church, in its foundation going back to near the time of the Norman settlement, was in the time of Cromwell, and is still, close by the very walls of Dublin Castle ; and the Lord-Depute must have attended there or at Christ Church, at one or both. In 1607, the famous Usher had been appointed to this church, and was succeeded by William Chappel, who had been John Milton's tutor at Cambridge, and who, according to Symmonds, was the reputed author of ' The Whole Duty of Man.' ' The church is described in 1630 as "in good repair and decency," worth sixty pounds per annum, there being two hundred and thirty-nine householders in the parish, all Protestants,, with the exception of twenty-eight Koman Catholics. " St Warburr's," says a writer in 1635, " is a kind of cathedral, wherein preacheth the judicious Mr Hoile about ten in the morning and three in the afternoon, — a most zealous preacher, and general scholar in all manner of learning, a mere cynic." Mr Hoyle, the friend of Usher, and "the tutor and chamber-fellow" of Sir James Ware, was elected professor of divinity in, and fellow of, Trinity College, Dublin ; he sat in the Assembly of Divines, witnessed against Laud, and in 1648 was appointed Master of University College, Oxford.'* In this famous church, where the gospel had been proclaimed with such purity and power by Usher and by Hoyle, Charnock officiated, down, we may suppose, to the ^Restoration. But his most conspicuous field of usefulness seems to have been on the afternoons of the Lord's day, when the great audiences of the citizens of Dublin assembled, and to them he lectured — that is, delivered an elaborate discourse, discussing fully the subject treated of — we may suppose either at St Wer- burgh's or Christ Church. Calamy says, ' he exercised his ministry on the Lord's day afternoons to the admiration of the most judicious Christians, having persons of the greatest distinc- tion in the city of Dublin for his auditors, and being applauded by such as were of very different sentiments from himself. Many commended his learning and abilities who had no regard for his piety.' God was now giving his servant, who had been so thoroughly prepared for his work by a long course of training, a wide sphere to labour in. In future years, when he was partially silenced, he must have looked to his Dublin oppor- tunities with feelings of lively interest. Though a counsellor, and a wise counsellor, to Henry Cromwell, and at times employed on public duty, in which his good sense, his moderation, and his truly catholic spirit gained him universal confidence, yet preach- ing was his peculiar gift, and to this he devoted all his talents. His preaching powers had now reached their full maturity. At a later period his memory somewhat failed him, and he had to read in a disadvantageous way with a glass. But at this time he used no notes, and he poured forth the riches of his original endowments and of his acquired treasures to the great delight of

* The History of the City of Dublin by J. T. Gilbert, vol. i. p 29.

b

XV111 INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK S WORKS.

his audience. His solid judgment, his weighty thoughts, his extensive learning, and his cultivated imagination, were all engaged in the work of recommending the gospel of Jesus Christ to the principal inhabitants of the capital of Ireland. Most careful in husbanding time, on which he ever set great value, spending most of it in his study, in reading and writing, medi- tation and prayer, accustomed to muse on profound topics in his restless hours in the night, and when walking in the streets during the day, constantly jotting down (as many of the puritans did) the thoughts that occurred to him on these occasions, and employing them as materials for his projected discourses,* he made it appear on the Lord's day how well he had been em- ployed. We know what the discourses which he preached were from those given to the world after his death, and which were printed from his manuscripts as he left them. Characterised as those of most of the preachers of the time were by method, Charnock's were specially eminent for solidity of thought, for clear enunciation of important truth, for orderly evolution of all the parts of a complicated subject, for strength and conclusiveness of argument, coming forth with a great flow of expression, recommended by noble sentiment and enlivened by brilliant fancy, — with the weight he ever had the lustre of the metal.t Except in the discourses of Usher, there never had been before, and it is doubtful whether there ever has been since, such able and weighty evangelical preaching in the metropolis of Ireland ; and *we do not wonder that the thinking and the 'judicious* should have waited eagerly on his ministry, specially on his 4 lectures,' seeking not so much excitement as instruction, presented in a clear and pleasant manner. Doing much good during the brief period allowed him, we are convinced that he helped to raise up a body of intelligent Christian men and wjomen among the English settlers, who within the Established Church, or beyond it as Presbyterians or Independents, handed down the truth to the generations following, and that the lively protestant religion of Dublin in the present day owes not a little to the seed which was then scattered, and which in due time, spite of many blights, grew into a forest.

But his days of* usefulness in Ireland speedily came to a closed When Oliver Cromwell died, lie left no one who could

wield his sceptre. Henry was certainly fitted of his kindred

for the work of government; hut he had one disqualification (for such it is in our crooked world), he was too upright and

# A<!;uns and Vim] nu'iitiuii tlirnr lniMt.i.

f Colt. .11 Mallnr, in Jim II is/, >,-,/<>/ X ,-„■ Enql.uul, netting of NiithsiiiiU'l Mathor,

woo mooeeded hit toother Samuel r In Dublin, says :~* It we* oommonlj

r. marked thai Mr Charnock'i Invention, I >i II an tpression, and Mi" Mather's

logio, would bate made lac perfecte rl pri achei In Hi.' world.'

i file edltori make Oharnooi B.D. w I conceives that he was Made eo l>y

Dublin Uniti r.ity. Mr Ann irons, and l»r s. mi. .11 Raid make bin a fellow of Trinity College. There is do regisl r ol thi in the oollege booka; but tin1 records both of Tiiinty College and of Dublin Castle are Terj defective as to tlio < lonnnonweslth period*

HIS LIFE. XIX

honourable to descend to the base means necessary to keep the various conflicting parties in subjection. His soul was ex- pressed in one of his letters: 'I will rather submit to any sufferings with a good name, than be the greatest man on earth without it.'* He had to complain during his whole rule in Ireland of the selfishness of the English settlers, of the extrava- gancies of the sectaries, and of the jealousy of the army of the Commonwealth. He seems, however, to have been efficiently supported in his wise and impartial rule by such men as Winter f and Charnock. Nearly all parties in Ireland, Church of England, Presbyterians, and Koman Catholics, were opposed to the Commonwealth and his father's rule; but all respected and loved Henry Cromwell. He got his brother Eichard proclaimed in Ireland; but the incapable parliament, out of jealousy, summoned him to England, and the royalists, at the .Eestoration, expelled him, without his offering any resistance.

Charnock had now to sink for a time into obscurity, with rare and limited opportunities compared with those which he had enjoyed for four or five years in the court of the lord deputy, and in St Werburgh's and Christ Church Cathedral. It was necessary to shew that he could not only act, but suffer, for Christ's name. Adams and Veal say, that 'about the year 1660, being discharged from the public exercise of his ministry, he returned back into England, and in and about London spent the greatest part of fifteen years, without any call to his old work in a settled way.' Wood and Calamy make statements to the same effect, and we must believe the account to be correct. But there is some reason to think, that though for the most part in London, he had not altogether abandoned Dublin for some time after 1660. At the close of the year 1661 (Dec. 31), he signs a certificate in favour of his friend Mr Veal, dated at Dublin.J It is stated that he and Mr Veal ministered in Dublin after the Eestoration [; and it is certain that at that time the meetings of nonconformists were winked at in Ireland, and that the Presbyterian and Independent ministers there took and were allowed an amount of liberty denied, to their brethren in England and Scotland. It is stated that both Charnock and Veal preached in a Presbyterian churchdn Wood Street (after- wards Strand Street), which continued for many years to have a flourishing congregation, with such pastors as the Eev. Samuel Marsden, one of the ejected fellows of Dublin College, the Eev.

* Letter in Thurloe Papers.

t There is a work, Life and Death of Winter, 1677 ; also Sermons by him against the Anabaptists, preached before the lord deputy.

% The certificate is given by - Calamy, in Continuation, p. 83. It is ' Dated at Dublin, Dec. 31. 1661,' and is signed ' Steph. Charnock, formerly Minister at Warbouroughs, and late Lecturer at Christ Church, Dublin ; Edward Baines, late Minister of St John's Parish, Dublin ; Nath. Hoyle, late Minister at Donobrock, and late Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin ; Kobert Chambres, late Minister of St Patrick's Church, Dublin ; Samuel Coxe, late Minister at Katherine's, Dublin ; William Leclew, late Minister of Dunborn ; Josiah Marsden, late Fellow of the aboye said Trin. College, Dublin.'

XI INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK S WORKS.

Dr Daniel "Williams, who founded the Dissenters' Library in Red Cross Street, London; Dr Gilbert Rule, afterwards prin- cipal of the university of Edinburgh; and the Rev. Joseph Boyse, an able defender of the doctrine of the Trinity, and of Protestant nonconformists. On the supposition that this is correct, we find Charnock's ministry in Ireland after the Restora- tion followed by a train of important consequences, reaching forward into coming ages.*

This is the proper place for referring to and examining a scandalous story about Charnock given by Bishop Parker in the 'History of his own Times.' He tells us that, Jan. 6. 1662-3, one Philip Alden voluntarily discovered to Vernon, one of the king's officers, a conspiracy to subvert the government in all the three kingdoms. This Alden had been an old rebel, and one who dealt in proscriptions and forfeited estates; but Vernon had so much obliged him by begging his life of the lord lieu- tenant, that he promised to discover the designs of the rebels. The principal leaders being chosen in March, determined on May 11. to open the war with the siege of Dublin : but many forces were in readiness, and they were dispersed. Lackey, a Presbyterian teacher, was hanged; but it is said he had seven accomplices, among whom was Charnock. * This Charnock had been chaplain of Henry Cromwell, advanced to that dignity by John Owen. He was sent by the conspirators as their ambas- sador to London, and promised them great assistance, as Gibbs, Carr, and others had done in Scotland and Holland. But the conspiracy being now discovered, he fled again into England, and changed his name from Charnock to Clarke. He was a man of great authority among the fanatics, and for a long time was at the 'head of a great assembly, and did not die till twenty years after, anno .1683, and his corpse was carried through the city with the pomp of almost a royal funeral. 't This statement lays itself open to obvious criticism. First, Bishop Parker, so inconsistent in his life and so hasty in his charges, is by no menus a safe authority in any question of fact. Next, the original informer ■is described as an old rebel, and a dealer in proscriptions and forfeited estates, and by no means to be trusted in the charges which he brings. Then our author makes Charnock live till 1683, whereafl we have documentary evidence flint lie died in 1680. These considerations might Mem sufficient to justify us in dismissing the statement as a fabrication, 01 an entire mistake.

But we knew from better authorities that there was a general

discontent, in the spring of n*><>;*, among the protestanta of ire- land, indeed among the nonconformists all over the three king- doms, and that thero was a conspiracy formed to seize Dublin

* See Sermon, &<\, Kit Uio ordination of Kcv. Jtmei Martiuoau, with an appendix rontuiniiitf a Summary History of thu rxvsbytrriim Cliurchea in the City, by tho Jtov. JamcH Armstrong, IHiJ'J.

(" Tlio Htatiiui'ijt of tljo Lfttifl sdKiofl in ' ncijuo rnim ante vitvnniuin obiit anno, 1683 cujus oxequiua pono rogali funoria pomp! yer urbcm oxtulerant.'

HIS LIFE. XXI

Castle. In Ireland, the dissatisfaction was very keen among the English settlers, because they thought their interests neglected ; among the soldiers of the Commonwealth, who were now stripped of their importance ; but especially among zealous protestants, who were bitterly disappointed, because they saw the work of reformation thrown back. The leader seems to have been the notorious Blood, who involved in it his brother-in-law, the Eev. W. Lecky, formerly a fellow of Trinity College, who seems to have become maddened in the course of the trial. Leland says that 1 some lawyers, several Presbyterian ministers, Blood, who was afterwards so distinguished in London, some members of the Irish Commons, and several republican officers, embarked in this design.' ' On the eve of the day appointed for seizing the Castle of Dublin and publishing their declaration, about five-and-twenty conspirators were seized, and a reward published for the appre- hension of those who escaped.'* It appears, farther, that some intimation had been sent to London which raised the suspicion of the Government there against Charnock, for there is issued, ' 1663, June 19., warrant to Joel Hardy to apprehend Stephen Charnock,' and, ' June 20., an examination of Bob. Littlebury. Knows Mr Charnock, who visits at his house, and told him he had an overture to go beyond seas. Has had no letter from Ireland for him these six weeks ; ' and under the same year, ' Note of address of Bobt. Littlebury at the Unicorn, Little Britain, London, with note not to miss him.' The country is evidently in a very moved state, in consequence of the ejection of the two thousand ministers, and the refusal to allow the non- conformists to meet for the worship of God. Thus William Kingsley to Secretary Bennet, June 20. 1663 :— ' There are daily great conventicles in these parts ; on Whitsunday, 300 persons met at Hobday's house, Waltham parish, &c. ' The news from Carlisle give indications of an understanding among the discon- tented. Thus Sir Phil. Musgrave reports to Williamson, June 22., Carlisle : — ' There is much talk of the more than ordinary meet- ing of the sectaries, and the passing of soldiers between Ireland and Scotland before the public discovery of the horrid plot.'t The conclusion which we draw from these trustworthy statements is, that there was deep discontent over all the three kingdoms, among those who had been labouring to purify the church, and who were now claiming liberty of worship ; that there was a cor- respondence carried on among the aggrieved ; that there was a disposition among some to resist the Government, the anticipa- tion and precursor of the covenanting struggle in Scotland, and the revolution of 1688 ; and that there was an ill-contrived con- spiracy in Dublin, which was detected and put down. But there is no evidence whatever to shew that Charnock was identified in any way with the projected rising in Dublin. His name does not appear in the proclamation from Dublin Castle, 23d May

* History of Ireland, vol. iii. p. 434.

t Calendar State Papers, edited by Mrs Green, vol. iii.

Xxii INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK's WORKS.

1663. That the government should have proceeded against him, is no presumption of his guilt, though it may have been quite sufficient to lead Bishop Parker to propagate the story. We know that ' the generality of the ministers of the north (Ulster) were at this time either banished, imprisoned, or driven into corners, upon occasion of a plot of which they knew nothing,'* these Presbyterians having in fact stood throughout by the family of Stuart, and given evidence of loyalty in very trying times. We can readily believe that Charnock should deeply sympathise with the grievances of his old friends in Dublin ; but his sober judgment, his peaceable disposition, his retiring and studious habits, all make it very unlikely that he should have taken any active part in so ill-conceived and foolish a conspiracy, t

From whatever cause, Charnock disappears very much from public view for twTelve or fifteen years. We must be satisfied with such a general statement as that of Wood, who says that, returning to England about 1660, ' in and about London he did spend the greater part of fifteen years without any call to his own wTork, whereby he took advantage to go now and then either into France or Holland.' In France he would see a lordly church, enjoying full privileges under Louis XIV., and meet with many protestants deprived of political and military power, but having a precarious liberty under the Edict of Nantes not yet revoked. In Holland were already gathering those refugees who in due time were to bring over with them William of Orange to rescue England from oppression. Calamy represents him as ' following his studies without any stated preaching.' Yes, it was now a necessity of his nature to study. Adams and Veal say, ' Even when providence denied him opportunities, he was still laying in more stock, and preparing for work against he might be called to it.' During these years when he wTas in some measure out of sight, he was probably revolving those thoughts which were afterwards embodied in his great work on

* Adair MSS., quoted in Rcid's History of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland, vol. ii. p. 284.

t In reference to Parker's charge, Bliss, tho editor, in Notes io "Wood's Athena,

says : — ' Qusere — if Stephen Charnock? Grey. Probably it was the same, the bishop having mistaken the time of his .hath.' Mi- t. F.Gilbert, the famous antiquarian, writes us : — ' Among the names of those committed on account ^ the alleged con- spiracy, is that of " Kduard Balnea, a fanatic preacher, formerly Harry Cromwell's chaplain." Could I'.ishop l'arl<er have confounded the two men? Maims was reotof

"' St John's Church, close to Werburgh'a, during the Commonwealth, and subse- quently founded t; Btreei congregation in Dublin.1 It is proper to explain, this alleged ' fanatic preacher and t Be < ition in Cooke street Hirst Wine Tavern Street), thai Mr Bi i 'a clergyman of Learning ami gooa sen

rational piety and zeal for the truth, and of great integrity and simplicity of spirit;'

and th it in the co] [on there were many pei ons of rank ami fortune, particu-

larly Sir John < ''otuorthy. afterward Lord Mas an fi\>\ I.ady Chichester, afterwards Cou nf ess of hone. 'al, and laidy Cole of the |\nin ski lien family. I>r Harrison hecamo

co-pastor with Mr Baincs in this congregation, and John Howe often officiated

there when Lord \ no, to whom Howe w as chaplain, happened to reside in

the capital* In all this we have another example of the eontinuanoi of the puritan Influence In Dublin. Bee Armstrong's ■ History of the Presbyterian Churches,' in Appendix to JSermun.

HIS LIFE. XX111

the 'Attributes.' Now, as at all times, he lived much in his library, which, say Adams and Veal, was his 'workshop,' furnished, ' though not with a numerous, yet a curious, collection of books ; ' and we can conceive that one so dependent on his reading, and who had it in view to prepare deep theological works, must have felt it to be a great trial when his books were burnt in the great fire of London.

About 1675, he seems to be in a position to receive a call to minister to a fixed congregation. It appears that a portion of the congregation were anxious to secure him as joint pastor with Dr Thomas Jacomb, and successor to Dr Lazarus Seaman, who died Sept. 9. 1675. John Howe, however, was settled in this office;* and Charnock was appointed joint pastor to the Kev. Thomas Watson in Crosby Hall. The congregation worshipping there had been collected soon after the Bestoration by Mr Watson, formerly rector of the parish of St Stephen's, Waibrook, whose little work, Heaven taken by Storm, was the means, under God, of Colonel Gardiner's conversion. Upon the indulgence in 1674 he licensed the hall in Crosby House, on the east side of Bishops- gate Street, which had been built in the fifteenth century by Sir John Crosby, had at a later date been the residence of Kichard Duke of Gloucester, afterwards Eichard III., and was now the property of Sir John Langham, who patronised the non- conformists, and devoted its very beautiful Gothic hall to the preaching of the word. Charnock was settled there in 1675, and officiated there to the time of his death, and there a numerous and wealthy congregation, presbyterian or independent, con- tinued to worship for some ages.t Charnock could not be described at this part of his life as specially a popular preacher. On account of his memory failing, he had to read his sermons ; and on account of his weak eyesight he had to read them with a glass, and his delivery was without the flow and impressiveness which it had in his younger years. Besides, his compositions were too full of matter, and were far too elaborate to be relished by the unthinking multitude, who complained of his discourses as being " but morality or metaphysics," their only fault being that they were too thoughtful. Adams and Veal say, 'Yet it may withal be said that if he were sometimes deep, he was never abstruse; he handled the great mysteries of the gospel with much clearness and perspicuity, so that in his preaching, if he were above most, it was only because most were below it.' Those who were educated up to him, as many of the middle classes were in that age, when the word of God and theological treatises were so studied, and when the public events of the times compelled men to think on profound topics, waited upon his ministry with great eagerness, and drank in greedily the

* Roger's Life of Howe, p. 144.

t Wilson's History and Antiquities of Dissenting Churches, vol. i. pp. 331, et seq., where is a history of Crosby Hall and an account of its ministers. Crosby Hall is now a merchant's wareroom, but retains traces of its beauty in its timber roof and splendid bow window.

XXIV INTRODUCTION TO CHABNOCK S WORKS.

instruction which he communicated from sabbath to sabbath. Mr Johnson tells us that ' many able ministers loved to sit at his feet, for they received by one sermon of his those instructions which they could not get by many books or sermons of others/

We can readily picture him at this time from the scattered notices left of him. We have two portraits of him ; one a paint- ing in Williams' Library, the other a plate in the folio edition of his works. Both exhibit him with marked and bony features, and a deep expressive eye. The painting makes him appear more heavy looking and sunken, as if he often retreated into himself to commune with his own thoughts. The plate is more lively, as if he could be drawn out by those who understood and reci- procated him. Adams and Veal say he ' was somewrhat reserved when he was not very well acquainted, otherwise very affable and communicative where he understood and liked his company.' We now extract from his funeral sermon. Those who did not know him cast upon him ' foul and false aspersions ' ' as if he was melancholy, reserved, unsociable to all, while his acquaintances will give a character of him diametrically opposite. How cheerful, free, loving, sweet-dispositioned was he in all companies where he could take delight ; he was their love, their delight.' By this time • our Timothy was somewhat obscured by manifold infirmi- ties, a crazy body, weak eyes, one dark, the other dim, a hand that would shake, sometimes an infirm stomach, an aching head, a fugitive memory, which, after it had failed him sometimes, he would never trust again, but verbatim penned and read all his notes, whereas till of late years he never looked within them.' From such a temperament we might expect a little ' passion or choler,' which is acknowledged by his friend, but which, he as- sures us, 'through grace he turned into the right channel.' 'He was careful to watch over his heart and against spiritual pride.' Five days each week, and twelve hours each day, he spent in his study, ' I will not say, as some, to make one sermon ; I know he had other work there.' When some one told him if he studied too much it would cost him his life, he replied, ' Why, it cost Christ his life to redeem and save me.' When he went out from his hooks and meditations, it was to visit ami relieve his patients, he having had all along a taste for medicine, and having given much time to the study of it. His bodily infirmities, his trials and spiritual conflicts, gave him a peculiar fitness for guiding

the anxious and comforting the afflicted. ' Be had bowels of

compassion for sinners to snatch thcin out of the flames, and

for saints to direct them unto the love of Christ.1 M need not speak unto yon of his preaching j how oft went he to children of

light Walking in darkness, to cheer and revive them with cordials

wherewith the Lord had usually refreshed him.' 'Your teacher was,' said the preacher in the lace of the congregation, 'though

not a perfect man, a perfect minister, thoroughly accomplished by the Spirit and the word of truth.'

The ambition of able and thinking ministers in those times

HIS LIFE. XXV

was to draw out a system of theology. Watson/ his colleague, has left us a 'Body of Divinity ,' which long continued to train the common people in the puritan theology, and may still he found, as we can testify, in the cottages of the Scottish peasantry. Charnock * intended to have given forth a complete body of divinity' to the congregation which met in Crosby Hall, the result, we doubt not, of long reading and much thought. He began with treating of the being, and went on to the attributes of God ; but * his sun set before he had gone over half of his transcendent excellencies and perfections. The last subject he treated on and finished was the patience of God. He was looking what to say next of the mercy, grace, and goodness of God, which he is gone to see and admire, for he found that which he most looked and longed for, the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life, in heaven whence he shines now. Indeed, all the while he was upon the attributes of God, he moved with that extraordinary strength and celerity, 'twas an argument of his near approach unto his centre and everlasting rest ; and if it be true, as some say, that the soul doth prominere in morte, his words were too true predictions, and from his soul when he said, that concerning divine patience would be his last sermon.' ' It was his longing desire, and his hopes were, that he should shortly be in that sinless state where there is the acme, the perfection of grace and holiness.'

He died July 27. 1680, at the comparatively early age of fifty- two, in the house of Eichard Tymms, a glazier in the parish of Whitechapel. On July 30th, his body was conveyed to Crosby Hall, and thence accompanied by great numbers of his brethren to St Michael's Church, in Cornhill, where * his bosom friend Mr Johnson, gained at Emmanuel, adhering to him at New College, preached his funeral sermon from Mat. xiii. 43, ' Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father.'! His remains were buried 'over Mr Sykes, under the steeple ' of St Michael's, where the worshippers have ever since passed over them in going in to the church.

He published himself nothing but a sermon ' On the Sinful- ness and cure of Evil Thoughts,' Gen. vi. 5, which appeared in the supplement to the Morning Exercises at Cripplegate ; and it is an indication of his disposition to keep his name from public

* We might have doubted whether a nonconformist minister could have been permitted to preach the funeral sermon of a nonconformist minister in a parish church, but the statement is made by Wood. The entry in the register of St Michael's is, ' July 30. was buryed Stephen Charnock, minister, under the steeple.' f « EKAAMTI2 TON AIKAKIN. On the shining of the righteous, a sermon preached partly on the Death of that Eeverend and Excellent Divine, Mr Stephen Charnock, and in part at the funeral of a godly friend, by John Johnson, M.A.' 1680. In explanation, he states that the body of the discourse had been prepared on the occasion of the death of another friend ; but, as being called suddenly to preach at Mr Charnock's funeral, he had used the same sermon, but accommodated to the different person. The discourse is somewhat rambling. We have embodied most of what relates to Charnock in this memoir. We have used the copy in the Williams' Library.

XXVI INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK S WORKS.

view, that in the title there is nothing more than the initials S. C, whereas in every other sermon in the collection there appears the name of the preacher. His posthumous works were given to the world by Mr Richard Adams and Mr Edward Veal, both Oxford friends, the latter also a Dublin friend, the one then a nonconformist minister in Southwark, and the other in Trap- ping. They first published ' A Discourse on Divine Providence,' 1680, and announce that ' this comes out first as a prodromus to several works designed to be made public as soon as they can be with conveniency transcribed,' declaring that 'the piece now published is a specimen of the strain and spirit of this holy man, this being his familiar and ordinary way of preaching.' The same year there appeared ' A Sermon on Reconciliation to God in Christ.' His discourses ' On the Existence and Attributes of God,' appeared in a large folio in 1681-82, and were followed by another folio in 1683, containing discourses on regeneration, re- conciliation, the Lord's supper, and other important subjects. A second edition of his works, in two volumes folio, appeared in 1684, and a third in 1702. In 1699, were published with ' An Advertisement to the Reader,' by Edward Veal, two discourses, one on Man's Enmity to God, the other on Mercy for the Chief of Sinners.

His great work is that on the ' Attributes.' Prior to his time the subject had been treated of near the opening of systems of theology, but never in the particular and minute way in wrhich it is done in Charnock's discourses. There had been two works on the special topic published in the English tongue in the early part of the century. The one was A Treatise containing the Original of Unbelief Misbelief or Mispersuasion concerning the Veritie, Unitie, and Attributes of the Deity, by Thomas Jackson, Doctor in Divinity, Vicar of St NicJiolas Church, Newcastle-upon* Tyne, and late Fellow of Corpus Chrisli College, Oxford, 1625. The work is a philosophico-religious one, treating profoundly, if not clearly, of the origin of ideas as discussed by Plato and Aristotle, and of belief in God; but not unfolding, as Charnock does, the nature of the several attributes. A work more nearly t tnbling that of our author, and very probably suggesting it, was written by Dr Preston, one of the ablest i)\' the Cambridge

divines, and who bad been master of Emmanuel some years be- fore Charnock's time, and left a neat name behind him. It is Life Eterncdt ota Treatise of the Knowledge of the Divine Essence and Attributes, by the late John Preston. It reached a fourth edition in 1684. In the eighteen sermons of whiohthe work is

Composed, the author first proves tin1 existence and unity of

God, and then dwells on eight of his perfections.* The whole is

* Thftft iff (1) Mi ■' ' Dttrfari : (-.) Mutt ho is without, all causes, having

his being uii'l beginning from himself; (3.) that !n> is sternal; (4.) that lu> is simple and s)>irifu;ii ; (.r>.) Immutable; (6\) Infinite (beyond all we can oono Including goodness j (7. ) omnipresent ; (8.) omnipotent. The arrangement is wry imperfect*

HIS LIFE. XXV11

under 400 pages, of by no means close printing. The analysis and distribution of the attributes are by no means the same with those followed by Charnock, whose method is much more logical and judicious, while his illustration is much more full and ample. Charnock's work is at this day the most elaborate that has appeared on the subject.

Borne in our day object to the separation of the divine attri- butes, such as we have in Charnock's work, and in systems of theology, that it is a division of the divine unity; that it is fitted to leave the impression that the perfections are so many different entities ; and that it exhibits the divine being in dry and abstract forms, which do not engage and win the affections of the heart. Now, it should be admitted at once, that a theological treatise on the attributes, or on any other subject, cannot serve every good purpose. No treatise of divinity can accomplish the high ends secured by the Word of God, with its vivid narratives, its typical events and ordinances, its instructive parables, and its attractive exhibition of God as living, acting, and loving — all suited to the heart and imagination of man as well as his under- standing. A theological system when compared with the word of God, is at best like a hortus siccus, when compared with the growing plants in nature, or a skeleton in reference to the living frame, clothed with flesh and skin. The most useful and effec- tive preaching must follow the Word of God as a model rather than bodies of divinity, and present God and his love in the concrete and not in the abstract form. Still, systematic theology has important purposes to secure, not only in testing and guard- ing purity of doctrine in a church, but in combining the scattered truths of God's Word, so that we may clearly apprehend them : in exhibiting the unity of the faith ; and in facing the misappre- hensions, mistakes, and errors which may arise. In particular, great good may be effected by a full display, and a reflective contemplation of the divine character; and in order to this, there must be some order, plan, and division, and the more logical these are the better for every purpose, speculative or practical. Care must be taken always, in drawing such a portraiture, to shew that the attributes are not distinct parts of the divine essence, but simply different aspects of the one God, viewed separately because of the infirmity of our minds, and the narrowness of our vision, which prevent us from taking in the whole object at once, and constrain us to survey it part after part. As it is not the abstract quality, but the concrete being that calls forth feeling and affection, we must ever contemplate his perfections, as combined in the unity of his living person. It is to be said, in behalf of Charnock, that he never leaves the impression that the attributes are separate existences ; they are simply different manifestations presented to us, and views taken by us of the one God, who is at once Great and Good, Holy and Gracious.

XXV111 INTRODUCTION TO CHAKNOCK S WORKS.

II. THE PURITAN PREACHING AND THE PURITAN

LECTURE.

1 Say not thou, What is the cause that the former days were better than these ? for thou dost not inquire wisely concerning this,' Eccles. vii. 10. There are some ever telling us that the theology of former times is much superior to that of our day. Some prefer the theology of the so-called fathers of the church, some that of the middle ages, some that of the Reformation, some that of the puritans. Now we believe that it may be good for us to look to the way in which great and good men have con- ceived, expressed, and enforced the truth in divers ages, were it only to widen the narrowness of our views, and recall attention to catholic verities which particular ages or sects have allowed to sink out of sight. Let us by all means rise from time to time above the contracted valleys in which we dwell, and ascend a height whence we may observe the whole broad and diversified territory which God has given us as an inheritance, and the rela- tion of the varied parts which branch out from Christ as the centre, as do the hills and valleys of our country from some great mountain, the axis of its range. There is, we should acknowledge, an attractive simplicity in the expositions of divine truth by the early fathers ; and we are under deep obligations to the divines of the fourth century for establishing on Scripture evidence the doctrine of the Trinity. Those who look into it with a desire to discover what is good, will find not a few excellencies even in the mediaeval divinity, notwithstanding the restraints laid on it by crutches and bandages. It is not to be forgotten that Thomas a Kempis lived in what are called the dark ages ; and that we owe to a philosophic divine of that time, not cer- tainly the doctrine of the atonement, which had been in the revealed religion of God since Adam and Abel offered lambs in sacrifice, but a very masterly and comprehensive exposition of that cardinal truth. Free grace, which had been so limited and hindered in the priestly and ecclesiastical ages, breathes from every page of the Reformers as fragrance does from the flower. The puritan preaching is unsurpassed for clear enunciation of divine truth, accompanied with close, searching, and fervent appeal, which now shakes the whole soul, as the earthquake did the prison at Philippi, and anon relieves it by the command and promise, ' Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt bo saved.1

But we Bhould pat implicit trust in no human, or hereditary, or tradil iona] theology, in do i heology except what comes direct trom the Bible, interpreted according to the letter, but received after the

spirit. How often does if happen that you will know what sect a

man belong! to by the favourite passages which ho quotes in his

s. rmons, and in his wry prayers, shewing how apt we are to take our very Scriptures from the traditions of our churches. We act as if the well were shut up from us, and as if we were obliged to

THE PURITAN PREACHING. XXIX

go to the streams, which may have caught earthliness in their course, and which at the best cannot be so fresh as the fountain. That is the theology best suited to the age which is put forth by living men of the age, drinking of the living word for themselves by the power of the living Spirit.

The peculiarities of the puritan preaching arose from the cir- cumstances in which they were placed, combined always with their deep piety. Most of them were highly educated men, trained in classics, logics, and ethics at the old universities. In their colleges, and in the Established Church, they had acquired habits of careful study and preparation for the pulpit, which they re- tained all their lives, whether they remained in or removed from the communion of the Church of England. Meanwhile, in the prosecution of their high aims, they were thrown into the midst of most exciting scenes, which moved society from its base to its summit. They had to make up their minds on most momentous questions, and to come to a public decision, and take their side, — it may be at an immense sacrifice of worldly wealth and status. With a great love for the national Church, and a desire to keep the unity of the faith, they declined, in obedience to what they believed to be the commands of God in his word, to conform to practices which the government, political and ecclesiastical, was imposing on them. In taking their part in the movements of these times, they had to mingle with men of all classes, to write papers of defence and explanation, and at times of controversy, and to transact a multifarious business, with bearings on states- men on the one hand, and the mass of the people on the other. Out of this state of things arose a style of exposition different from that of the retired scholar on the one hand, and from that of the man of bustle on the other ; equally removed from the manner of the independent churchman and of the ever stirring dissenter. The discourses are by men of thought and erudition, who must draw their support from the great body of the people, and address in one and the same sermon both men and women belonging to all ranks and classes. We see those characteristics in every treatise of Owen and Baxter, and they come out in the discourses of Charnock.

The works of Charnock, and of the puritans generally, labour under two alleged imperfections. With the exception of Howe's 'Living Temple,' and one or two other treatises, they are with- out that subdued and quiet reflection which gives such a charm to books which have come out of retired parsonages or the cloisters of colleges. In most of the writings of the puritans, there is a movement, and in many of them a restlessness, which shew that they were composed for hearers or readers who were no doubt to be instructed, but whose attention required also to be kept alive. Their profound discussions and their erudite disquisitions, having reference commonly to expected, indeed immediate action, are ever mixed with practical lessons and applications which interrupt the argument, and at times give a

XXX INTRODUCTION TO OHARNOCK S WORKS.

strain and bias to the interpretation of a passage. In this respect their discourses, written with the picture of a mixed auditory before them, are very different from the essays or dissertations, philosophic or critical, of certain of the Anglican or German divines, who, themselves mere scholars or thinkers, write only for the learned ; but possess an interest to them such as cannot attach to spoken addresses in which the popular and the scien- tific are mixed in every page.

Because of this attempted combination, the puritans labour under another alleged disadvantage. Most of their writings contain too much thought, too much erudition, and above all too many logical distinctions, to admit of their being appreciated by vulgar readers. With the living voice and the earnest manner to set them off, the sermons may have been listened to with pro- found interest by large mixed audiences ; but in the yellow pages of the old volume they scare those who do not wTish to be troubled with active or earnest thought. In this respect they are inferior — some would rather say immeasurably superior — to the popular works produced in our day by evangelical writers both within and beyond the established churches of England and Scotland. They are not characterised by that entire absence, in some cases studious abnegation, of reflective thought and con- vincing argument, which is a characteristic of some of our modern preachers, who cast away their manhood and pule like infants ; nor do they indulge in those stories and anecdotes by which some of our most successful ministers of the word attract and profit large audiences in our times. The puritans had learning, and they gave the results of it to their congregations. They thought profoundly themselves, and they wished to stimulate and gratify thought in their hearers and readers.

The consequence of all this is, that there is a class who reckon themselves above, and there is a class certainly below, the puritan. There are contemplatists who are disturbed by their feverishm and scholars who complain of the intrusion of unasked practical lessons. But if these persons would only exercise a little of that patience on which they sot so high a value, they would find im- bedded in the rich conglomerate of the puritans profound reflec- tions and wise maxims, which could have come only from deep thinkers and scholars, who spent long hours in their studies

ling, meditating, and, we may add, praying over the deepest questions which the mind of man can ponder. It is also truo

that th» re ;ire men and women of .ill ranks and conditions w In) an h.low the puritans, such as the devourers of novels in our

circulating libraries, ow men of pleasure and of mere business

and agriculture, who have never heen led to entertain a thought

above their amusements, or their shops and their warehouses;

their crops and their cattle; and such are the masses in our it cities, and in our scattered rural districts too, who have

heen allowed to spring up in utter ignorance, but who would not

have been left in such utter degradation it* the puritans had heen

THE PURITAN PREACHING. XXXI

allowed to carry out their system of inspection, catechising, and careful Bible instruction. We allow that persons so untrained to thinking would speedily fall asleep if made to read a puritan treatise, with its deep thoughts and its logical distinctions. The puritan preachers no doubt required a prepared audience ; but they had succeeded so far in training intelligent audiences in their own day, and they had a discipline which, if they had been allowed to carry it out, might have prepared the great body of the people for listening to the systematic exposition of the divine word. Nor is it to be forgotten that there are passages in the writings of the best puritans more fitted than any composed by uninspired men to awaken the unthinking and arouse the care- less, and compel them to think of the things which belong to their everlasting peace. These passages continue to be regularly quoted to this day, and often constitute the very best parts of the articles in our popular religious literature. Charnock's discourses, in particular, have been a mine in which many have dug, and found there gold wherewithal to enrich themselves, without exhausting the numberless veins. The preachers who have caught the spirit of the puritans, but have avoided their techni- cality and mannerism, have commonly been the most successful in rousing the sunken and the dead from their apathy, and in stirring them to anxiety and prayer.

Some of the critical commentaries furnished by the puritans, such as those of Owen, are among the ablest, and altogether the best, that have ever been published. It is all true that modern German industry has dug up and collected materials unknown in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and the more recent contests with the rationalists and infidels, while producing it may be much immediate mischief, have in the end led to a larger and more minute acquaintance with ancient thought and history, and with eastern languages and customs. But the puritans have been left behind merely by the onward march of knowledge ; and the time may come when even the most advanced German critics may in this sense become antiquated. It is true that the puritans, keeping before them a living audience, ever mingled practical reflections and applications with their most erudite criticism, in a way which is now avoided by learned commentators. But over against this we have to place the counterbalancing circumstance, that the Scriptures were written for practical purposes, and will ever be better interpreted by practical men, who have felt the truth them- selves, and who have had enlarged and familiar intercourse with men, women, and children in the actual world, than by the mere book scholar, who is ever tempted to attribute motives to historical actors such as real human beings were never swayed by, and to discard passages because they contain im- probabilities such as one who mingles with mankind is meet- ing with every day. _ We have sometimes thought, in com- paring the puritan with the modern German criticism, that

XrXll INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK S WORKS.

the one of these circumstances is quite fitted to outweigh the other; of course, the one should be used to counteract the other, and a perfect commentary should seek to embrace both ad- vantages.

The multiplied divisions, and ramified subdivisions, employed in their discourses, furnish matter of very common complaint against them. The habit arose from the training in a narrow scholastic logic in the universities, and is to be found in the ethical, the juridical, the legal, and the parliamentary quite as much as in the theological writings of the age, and in the high Anglican as well as in the puritan theology. We are not pre- pared to vindicate the peculiar manner of the times. The excess in one direction led in the immediately succeeding age to an excess in the other direction. The new method, or want of method, was introduced from France, and came in with a very light and superficial literature. It was espoused by such writers as Lord Shaftesbury in his ' Characteristics of Men, and Manners, and Times;' and appeared in a very graceful dress in the Tatler, Spectator, and Guardian. Shaftesbury tells us that the miscellaneous manner was in the highest esteem in his day, that the old plan of dividing into firsts and seconds had grown out of fashion, and that ' the elegant court divine exhorts in miscellany, and is ashamed to bring his twos and threes before a fashionable assembly.' ' Eagouts and fricassees are the reign- ing dishes; so authors, in order to become fashionable, have run into the more savoury way of learned ragout and medley.* In adopting the style of the times, the preachers no doubt sup- posed that they could thereby recommend religion to the world, especially to the gay and fashionable classes, who had been repelled by the old manner, and might be won, it was alleged, by the new. The comment of the clerical satirist Witherspoon, in his * Characteristics,'' is very pertinent. After stating the allegation that the old system had driven most of the fashion- able gentry from the churches, he says : ' Now the only way to regain them to the church, is to accommodate the worship as much as may be to their taste ;' and then remarks slily, ' I confess there has sometimes been an ugly object ion thrown up against this part of my argument, viz., that this desertion of public worship by those in high life seems in fact to be contem- porary with, and to increase in a pretty exact proportion to, the attempts that have been made, and are made, to suit it to their

taste.' Not that we have any right to condemn the preachers. of the eighteenth century because they did not ehoose to follow

the formalism of the seventeenth. A much grayer charge can

be broughl against them ; that of sinking out of sight, or

diluting, BOme of the convincing and saving truths of Chris- tianity. The mini iter of ( lod'l Word, if he is not to make him- self ridiculous, must Weal the dress and accommodate himself to the innocent manners of his age; hut he is never to for that ho is a minister of the word, prepared to declare the whole

THE PURITAN PREACHING. XXX111

counsel of God, and he is not to imagine that he can deliver himself from the offence of the cross. The polite, the gay, and the refined admired the preaching of the eighteenth century, but never thought of allowing themselves to fall under the power of the religion recommended. The puritan preachers are still read and have power, 'being dead they yet speak unto us;' but who remembers the names of the admired pulpit orators of last century? Who, except the lovers of belles lettres, ever think of looking into the polished sermons of Hugh Blair and his school ?

It may be allowed that the puritan preachers, like all the didactic writers of their time, carried their subdivisions too far. They sought by abstraction to bring out into distinct view all the attributes of the concrete object ; and by mental analysis to dis- tribute a complex subject into its parts. As correct thinkers, their judgment would have been offended if a single one of the parts which go to make up the whole had been left out. But comprehensive minds now see that it is beyond the capacity of man to find out all the elements of any one existing object ' in the heavens above, or in the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth.' In the subject, for example, discussed by Charnock, the nature of God, no one should profess, (certainly Charnock does not) to be able to discover or to unfold all the perfections of Jehovah ; and it would be simple pretension to make the propositions we utter assume the appearance of com- pleteness of knowledge and explanation. The mind feels bur- dened when a speaker or writer would lay the whole weight of a comprehensive subject upon it. Charles II. was offering a just criticism on the whole preaching of the age when he charged Isaac Barrow with being an unjust preacher, inasmuch as he left nothing for any other man to say. All people weary of an enumeration which would count all gifts bestowed in minute coins ; independent thinkers feel offended when any one would dogmatically settle everything for them; and enlarged minds would rather have a wide margin left for them to write on, and prefer suggestive to exhaustive writers.

But on the other hand, definition and division are important logical instruments ; and when they are kept in their proper place as means, they serve important purposes. The puritan preachers all aimed at vastly more than mere tickling, rousing, and interesting their hearers ; they aimed at instructing them. For this purpose it was needful first of all to give their hearers clear notions ; and how could that be done except by the speakers themselves acquiring distinct and adequate ideas, and then uttering a clear expression of them? They were quite aware that speculative notions and linked ratiocinations were not fitted to raise feeling, and that there could be no religion without affection; and hence they ever mingled appeals to the conscience, and addresses to the feelings, and even pictures for the fancy, with their methodical arrangements and reasoning processes.

XXXIV INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK S WORKS.

But they knew at the same time that mere feeling, unsustained by the understanding, would die out like an unfed flame, and hence they ever sought to convey clear apprehensions, and to convince the judgment. Then they wished their audience to retain what they heard in their memories for future rumination. But the memory, at least of the intelligent, proceeds in its reminiscences by correlation; it cannot bring up the uncon- nected, the dismembered ; it needs hooks on which to hang the thoughts, compartments in which to arrange them, that we may know where to find them, and to be able to bring them out for use when we need them. All skilful teachers of youth know that if their pupils would make progress they must employ method, and have division and enumeration in the lessons on which they examine. And it is certain that the puritans aimed at nothing less than thoroughly teaching their flocks; and many of their hearers, male and female, took notes of the sermons and afterwards expanded them. Such a process would be quite impossible in regard to much of the preaching of our times, satisfying itself with a loose general view of a subject, which may produce a transient impression for good, but which does not give a distinct apprehension at the time, and which could not possibly be recalled afterwards, much less expressed, by any but the original speaker. Depend upon it, two centuries hence these writers will be far less read than the puritans are at this present time.

An objection has frequently been taken to the too graphic illustrations and quaintnesses of the puritans. An excuse can easily be pled for it by those who may not be prepared to recom- mend it for general adoption. It was the habit of the time, and was adopted in ;ill departments of literature, poetical and prose, and by the adherents of the Anglican establishment as well as the nonconformists. The puritan preachers felt as if they were necessitated to employ some such means of keeping alive the attention of hearers to the weighty instruction they were in the habit of importing to their large mixed audiences. It is a curious circumstance that the present age has come back to

the same practice under a somewhat different form, and with •use for it in the solidity of its thinking J and it cannot with any consistency objeci to 1 he fashion of thi good old puritans as LoJOg as it calls for and favours so many tenaation means of BIJUnmoning the attention, in>t only in motels, hut in every species Of writing, including OUT religious literature, which is advertised by Catch titles and read for the sake of excitement. It is to he Baid in behalf of the puritans, that though there may he at times

an overstrained ingenuity in their illustrations, yet these always bear directly and pointedly upon the doctrinal truth which they aif expounding, and khe practical lesson; which they enforce. The puritans i eer sought to enlighten the intellect; hut their

aim was also to gain the heart, and in order to both one and

the other, to awaken the conscience in the addresses to which

PHILOSOPHICAL PRINCIPLES IN THE PURITAN THEOLOGY. XXXV

they heave not been surpassed, perhaps not equalled, by any class of teachers in ancient or in modern times.

The best puritan preaching ever tended to take the form of what they called the ' lecture.' We often meet with this phrase in reading the history of the times. There were lectures delivered weekly in certain churches in London, and in some of the prin- cipal towns throughout the three kingdoms ; Laud, we know, en- deavoured to put down the puritan lecture. Charnock describes himself as officially lecturer at Christ Church, where the lecture was delivered at three o'clock on the afternoons of the Lord's day. We are not to suppose that the puritans always preached in this elaborate style, but the ablest of them did so when they could get fit audience; and the sermons which they thought worthy of publication were commonly of this elaborately-exposi- tory type. In particular, Charnock always discourses to us as if he were lecturing in a college chapel at Oxford, or in Christ Church, Dublin.

While it is not desirable that all preaching, or even ordinary preaching, should be of this stamp, it would surely be for the benefit of the church of Christ to have a few lecturers or doctors, fitted for such work, in all our great cities ; or to secure the same end by systematic lectures delivered by a judicious combination of competent men, not merely on attractive and popular, but on profound theological, subjects. To accomplish the purpose in our day, it is not needful that this elaborate exposition should proceed in the manner of the puritans ; in particular, it should avoid the minute dissection of texts in which they so delighted, but in which the living truth was apt to be killed in the process. In order to be profitable, the lectures must be addressed to the age, by men who sympathise with the age ; and it is only thus that they can accomplish in this century, what the puritan lecture effected two hundred years ago. Ever founded on the word of God, they should endeavour to bring out its broad and simple meaning, rather than exercise their ingenuity in drawing out significations which were never seen by the writers of the Scrip- tures. Thus may the church of God expect to raise up a body of intelligent people, to maintain and defend the truth in our day, by better weapons than were employed even by the soldiers of Cromwell in the seventeenth century.

III. PHILOSOPHICAL PEINCIPLES INVOLVED IN THE PUKITAN THEOLOGY.

The author of this Introduction feels that, on being asked to write about the divine who discussed the profound subject of the 'Attributes of God,' it will be expected of him, from the character

XXXVI INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK S WORKS.

of his favourite studies, that he should say something of the philosophy of the puritans, or rather of the philosophic principles involved in the puritan theology. For in truth the puritans were not, really nor professedly, philosophers, but theologians and preachers. Not that their religious views discouraged the study of philosophy. It could be shewn that some of the greatest thinkers that England has produced, owed not a little to puritan influence. Francis Bacon had certainly none of the self-sacri- ficing spirit of the puritans, but he owed much to a puritan mother. The puritans generally were too much engrossed wTith practical questions, to write calm philosophic treatises. But it is not to be forgotten that Culverwel and Cudworth, about the most learned and profound thinkers of their age, took the reform- ing side in Cambridge ; and Howe, who wrote his ' Living Temple' (at least the first part of it) in his calm retirement in the family of Lord Massarene at Antrim, was altogether a puritan. Locke (like Milton) did not keep by the deep religious faith of those among whom he was brought up, but he cherished their reverence for the Bible and liberty of thought.

The phrase ' puritan divines ' is understood to apply to those who sought to construct a biblical theology. But Christian theology, which is a co-ordination of the scattered truths of God's word, cannot be constructed without philosophic principles, more or fewer, being involved explicitly, or more frequently implicitly. If we try to connect truths wThich in the Bible are left unconnected ; if we generalise wha^ in the Scriptures is particular ; if we infer from what is revealed ; if we argue from the analogy of the faith, or from any other principle ; above all, if we would arrange the truth into a system, we must, whether we avow it or not, whether we know it or not, proceed on some principle of reason. We often find that those who affect to be the most determined to avoid all scholastic forms, are all the while, in their statements and reasonings, proceeding on principles which are really meta- physical, the metaphysics being very confused and ill-founded. It would be very curious and very instructive withal, to have a full and clear enunciation of the philosophic principles involved in thf theologies of all different ages and creeds. It is only by

having such a Statement spread out articulately, that we can find what L8 human and what is divine in systems of divinity. In this

article we are to endeavour to bring out to view the philosophy implied in the construction of the puritan theology.

bible theologians, as such, should always avoid identifying their ■;. item i with, or founding them upon, any peculiar meta- physical Bystem. But let us not be misunderstood. We do not mean to affirm thai no attempt should he made to wed religion ;md philosophy. We hold that all philosophy should bethought out in a religious spirit, and that much good may he effected by

philosophic works on religious topics, BUCh as those of Pascal, and

Culverwel, and Cudworth in the seventeenth century. But in

all such casoa the philosophy and the Scriptural theology should

PHILOSOPHICAL PRINCIPLES IN THE PURITAN THEOLOGY. XXXV11

be kept separate, not, it may be, in separate chapters, but first in the mind of the writer, and second in the composition of his work ; so separate, that the reader may discern the difference, and that the certainties of God may not be confounded by the dullest apprehension with the speculations of men.

The puritans professed to be students of the Bible, and not philosophers, and to avoid all mere speculative questions. And we are prepared to affirm that neither before nor since, has there been a body of profound divines assuming fewer doubtful meta- physical principles. But the very puritans did proceed, in the construction of their systems, on certain logical or metaphysical maxims. We allow that, like all dogmatic theologians, they carried their method of technical formulae too far ; that they did at times squeeze a text, written in an eastern language, to suit it to a western article ; and that they professed to reach a com- pleteness of system such as is altogether beyond the limited capa- cities of man, in dealing with the boundless truths of God's Word. But we maintain that in their theology they ground on no peculiar philosophy ; that the maxims involved in their construction and inferences are found in the very nature of the human mind, and of the reason with which man is endowed, are such as man must ever take with him, if he is not to abnegate his rational nature, are such as have had a place allotted them in all profound philo- sophies, whether in ancient, in mediaeval, or in modern times ; in short, the puritans proceed on the principles of a catholic philo- sophy, which is the expression of the laws of man's intellectual constitution.

It may be allowed indeed that they employed at times the forms and expressions of authors, and of systems that were favourites with them. In particular, they used the distinctions and the phrases of Aristotle, of Augustine, and of the scholastic logicians. But then it is to be remembered that Aristotle and Augustine were about the most comprehensive thinkers that ever lived ; and it is a fact that the schoolmen, all narrow and technical as they were in their spirit, were the main instruments of giving definiteness to the expressions used in the western world in our modern literature, — in fact, in our very speeches, sermons, and common conversation. The puritans in their learned treatises had to employ the phraseology of the learning of their times, just as they had to use the language of their country. The inspired writers themselves had their nation- alities and their individualities — the speech of the disciples still ' be- wrayeth' them. They had to speak of the sun rising, and the earth standing, according to the ideas of their time ; and in regard to man's nature they had to use the phrases, ' reins/ ' bowels,' ' heart/ and employ the distinction of ' body,' ' soul,' and ' spirit/ because they were accepted in their times. The puritans must use the language they found ready for them, and the distinctions under- stood by their readers ; but just as the writers of Scripture did not mean authoritatively to sanction any theories of the world or of the mind, so the puritans did not intend to adopt any peculiar philoso-

XXXV111 INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK S WORKS.

phic system, Platonic or Aristotelian, Greek or Latin, ancient or modern, but to proceed on the universal principles of reason.

In establishing' the divine existence, Charnock had to make references to the aiaterial universe, as furnishing evidence of order, design, and beneficence. In doing so, he has to make his state- ments according to the views of the time. The Copernican theory of the universe had been adopted for some ages by men of science, but had not yet been brought down to the common belief of the people. Bacon had rejected it, and Milton in his great poem forms his pictures on the idea of the earth being reckoned the stable centre, with the stars moving round it in cycles and epicycles. When Charnock was in Dublin, the Royal Society was formed in Oxford ; and while Charnock was meditating his discourses on the Attributes, Newton was cogitating the law of universal gravitation. But the preacher feels that it was not for him to go in advance of the popular apprehension. He usually supposes, as all men in fact still do, that the sun moves round the earth, but he states in a note, ' whether it be the sun or the earth that moves, it is all one,' that is for his purpose, which is to shew that ' the things in the world declare the existence of a God in their production, harmony, preservation, and answering their several ends.' 'Every plant, every atom, as well as every star, at the first meeting, whispers this in our ears, " I have a Creator, I am witness to a Deity." Who ever saw statues or pictures, but presently thinks of a statuary and limner?' 'The spider, as if it understood the art of weaving, fits its web both for its own habitation, and a net to catch its prey. The bee builds its cell, which serves for chambers to reside in, and a repository for its provision/ ' The whole model of the body is grounded upon reason. Every member hath its exact proportion, distinct office, regular motion.' ' The mouth takes in the meat, the teeth grind it for the stomach, the stomach prepares it.' 'Every member hath a signature and mark of God, mid of his wisdom.'* It is the office of ii.m nr.il theology to unfold the order and the adapta- tion which everywhere fall under our notice in the works of God, but in doing so it should never profess bo expound the ultimate constitu- tion of things : l No man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to I he end.' In order to the conclusiveness of the

argumenl for the divine existence, it is not necessary that we should

know the final Composition and laws of the suhstanccs in which the

order and design are exhibited We may Bee at once that there are plan and purpose in the dispositions of an army in march,

though wo know not meanwhile whence it has come or whither it Oing. In liko manner we are sure that there are skill and con- trivance in t ho inoveinonts of the hftfUof »»at 'ire, though wo cannot

till their ultimate properties. CharnooJc lived in an age of transi- tion in physical science, and some of his representations are anti- quated; hut Ins arguments are siill conclusive, and his illustrations

need only bO l»o expressed in a new form to hecome apposite. We should DO* forget that we, tOO, live in an agC ^^ transit ion, and

* Alt itftortM, I>is. I.

PHILOSOPHICAL PKINCIPLES IN THE PURITAN THEOLOGY. XXX1X

when the grand discoveries of our day in regard to the conservation of energy and the correlation of all the physical forces, and in regard to the unity of all organic forms, are wrought out to their full con- sequences, we suspect that the most advanced works in our century, that the Natural Theology of Paley, and the Bridge water and Burnet Treatises, will he found as antiquated in the twentieth cen- tury as the works of the seventeenth century are to us.

But the divines of the seventeenth century had to deal much more with mental philosophy than with physical science. It may serve some good ends to exhibit the exact historical position in respect of philosophy of the puritans, and more especially of Char- nock. The puritan divines generally were well acquainted with the philosophy of Aristotle, with his logic, his psyche, his ethics, and metaphysics. They were also conversant with the theology of Augustine, of the middle ages, and of the reformers. The exclu- sive reverence for the scholastic system had passed away among advanced thinkers, but the scholastic training still lingered in the colleges, and the new and experiential method had not yet been expounded. Charnock was born four years before Locke, and the ■ Discourses on the Attributes' appeared ten years before the ' Essay on the Human Understanding,' the work which founded modern English philosophy. Charnock died fifty -nine years before David Hume published the sceptical work on Human Nature, which compelled thinkers to review all old philosophic principles, even those involved in theology ; eighty years before Thomas Keid began the work of reconstruction on observational principles ; and a century before Emmanuel Kant made his attack on rational theo- logy, and appealed to man's moral nature as furnishing the only argument for the divine existence. This was no doubt one reason why the puritan theology was not appreciated except by earnest Christians in the eighteenth century ; it did not speak to those who had been trained in the new philosophy. But we have now arrived at a time in which neither the philosophy of Locke, nor that of Kant, can be allowed to reign supremely. We are at a sufficient distance to regard them, not as suns in our sky, but as stars, with Plato and Aristotle and Augustine, and many others, their equals in light and splendour. In particular, those who most admire Locke and his fresh observational spirit, now see his great defects in deriving all our ideas from sensation and reflection, and setting aside the constitutional principles of the mind. The superficial theology which grounded itself on the philosophy of Locke has died an unlamented death, and no one wishes to see it raised from the grave to which it has been consigned. We shall certainly never return to the phraseology employed by the puritans, nor bind ourselves to follow them in their favourite distinctions. Let us copy them only in this, that in our arguments we proceed on the principles which, in some modification or other, have appeared in all deep philosophies, and have done so because they are in the very structure of our minds, and in the nature of human reason, as reflecting the divine reason.

Xl INTRODUCTION TO CHAENOCK's WORKS.

L Let us glance at the Puritan Psychology.

The Faculties of the Mind. — These come out only incidentally. The following is Charnock's summary, ' The essential faculties of the rational soul — the mind, the repository of principles, the faculty whereby we should judge of things honest or dishonest ; the understanding, the discursive faculty, and the reducer of those principles into practical dictates ; that part whereby we reason and collect one thing from another, framing conclusions from the principles in the mind ; the heart, i. e., the will, conscience, affec- tions, which were to apply those principles, draw out those reason- ings upon the stage of the life.'* Though not a perfect, this is not a bad, distribution of the mental powers. The account of our intellectual capacities is certainly superior to that given by Locke, who denied innate ideas, and allowed an inadequate place to in- tuition. Charnock mentions first 'the mind, the repository of principles.' What is this but Plato's "koyog and Aristotle's vot$ de- scribed by both, each, however, with a different explanation, as ™cro; iidoiv (see Aris. Psyche, iii. c. 4 s. 4) ? What but Locke's intuition — not properly unfolded by him? What but Reid's principles of common sense, Kant's forms, and Sir William Hamilton's regula- tive faculty ? Then in regard to the other, or motive, department of the mind, we may mark how English thinkers had not yet come to the miserably defective psychology of the last century and beginning of this, in which man's powers are represented as con- sisting simply in the understanding and feelings. Man's heart is spoken of as having three essential elements, the will, the con- science, and the affections, each with a province, each serving a purpose, and all to be dedicated to God. There was no such narrow and confused controversy such as that which has been started in our day as to whether religion be an affair of the head or of the heart. In their ' repository of principles,' as distinguished from the discursive faculty and reasoning, they had all that is good and true in the modern Germano-Colerid^ean distinction between the reason and the understanding ; and they had it in a better form ; and they never proposed, as some in our day have done, to make reason the sole discerner and judge of religion. With the puritan, religion was an affair of the whole man, including head and heart, arid the heart having not only emotive sensibility and attachment, but a conscience to discern good and evil, and a will to choose.

Knowledge* — As opposing themselves io scepticism, both in

natural and revealed religion, they held that man could reach

knowledge, positive and correct. They represented some know-

ledge as being intuitive, and other knowledge as obtained by a process, both the One and the other being real. They held t hat

man could rise to a true knowledge of God, to some knowledge by

means of his works within and without us, but to a still closer and more satisfactory knowledge by the revelation he has given in his Word, very specially by the manifestation hfi has made of himself * Sermon on The Knonled.jr <»/' (lod, \\ vi.

PHILOSOPHICAL PRINCIPLES IN THE PURITAN THEOLOGY.

Xli

in the face of his Son. The divines of that century did not coun- tenance the doctrine advocated by Archbishop King and Bishop Peter Brown in the beginning of the next, and revived in our day, as to man being incapacitated by his very nature from knowing God as he is, a doctrine supposed to be favourable to religion, but which may quite as readily serve the purposes of a philosophy which affirms that man can know nothing, and terminate in scepti- cism. Charnock declares, as to this knowledge, first, that it is not immediate or intuitive, such as we have of a man when we see him face to face, but through ' his excellent works of creation, provi- dence, redemption, and the revelation of invisible mysteries in the Word.' He says, secondly, it is not comprehensive. ' To know comprehensively is to contain, and the thing contained must be less than that which contains, and therefore, if a creature could comprehend the essence of God, he would be greater than God/ He says that we cannot comprehend the nature of the creatures that are near us, and that not even in heaven shall God be com- prehensively known. But still we are represented as knowing God. We know God as we know the sea ; we behold the vastness of its waters, but we cannot measure the depths and abysses of it. Yet we may be said truly to see it, as we may touch a mountain with our hands, but not grasp it in our arms/

Knowledge and faith. — The puritans do not enter into any minute inquiries as to the natural exercises of knowledge and faith. The precise nature and relation of knowledge and faith as psycho- logical acts cannot be said to be yet settled by the professors of mental science. We here come to a desideratum, which we ven- ture to think might be supplied by inductive investigation. There is a constant reference in the present day to knowledge and faith as different, and each with a province, but we are furnished with no definition of terms, or explanation of the precise difference of the exercises. The puritans confined themselves, as the schoolmen of the age of Anselm and Abelard did, to their own province, the relation of the two as religious acts. Their views, especially those of Charnock, are clear and distinctly announced, and they seem to us to be sound and judicious. Charnock declares unequivocally that knowledge is necessary in order to faith : ' It is impossible an act can be without an object ; nothing is grace but as it is con- versant about God, or hath a respect to God. There can be no act about an unknown object.' ' Faith cannot be without the know- ledge of God and Christ.' ' Knowledge is antecedent to faith in the order of nature. I know whom I have believed, 2 Tim. i. 12. That ye may know and believe that I am he, Is. xliii. 10/ The divines of that century have not started the question whether faith belongs to the understanding or the feelings. Their view seems to us to be sounder both psychologically and theologically. 'This grace (faith), therefore, is set in a double seat by divines, in the understanding and will : it is properly a consent of the will, which cannot be without an assent in the mind.' ' Faith is in the under- standing in regard of disposition, but in the will in regard of the

Xlli INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK's WORKS.

fiducial apprehension ; for faith is not one simple virtue, but com- pounded of two, knowledge and trust/*

The conscience. — In respect of the place they give to the con- science, the puritans have passed far beyond Aristotle, whom they so far follow in their psychology. Aristotle, in his Ethics, does allot to ' right reason' (ugio/ievm \6yw x.ai ug civ 6 <pg6vi>j,og eg/ircm, see Ethics ii. c. 6, § 15), a function in the determination of virtue; but he does not mention the conscience. The puritans, founding on the pas- sage in Paul (Rom. ii. 15), make constant references to the con- science ; no preachers before their time, and few since, have made such direct and powerful appeals to this mental faculty. ' Con- science,' says Charnock, ' is natural to man, and an active faculty.' They attempt no psychological analysis of the power ; they do not inquire whether it is an exercise of the reason on the one hand, or a sense, sentiment, or feeling on the other. This was a question started in the next age by Samuel Clarke on the one side, and Shaftesbury and Francis Hutcheson on the other. Charnock, we have seen, makes the heart embrace 'the conscience, will, affec- tions.' In the ' mind, the repository of principles,' he places the faculty 'whereby we should judge of things honest or dishonest ;' and the office of conscience seems to be that of following this up by ' accusing, or else excusing.' He argues resolutely that the con- science testifieth in behalf of the existence of God. 'Man witnesseth to God in the operations and reflections of conscience.' ' There is a law in the minds of men which is a rule of good and evil. There is a notion of good and evil in the consciences of men, which is evi- dent by those laws which are common to all countries.' ' Man, in the first instant of the use of reason, finds natural principles within himself; directing and choosing them, he finds a distinction between good and evil; how could this be if there werenol some rule to him bo try and distinguish good and evil.' 'Common reason supposeth that there is some hand which hath fixed this distinction in man; how could it cist) be universally impressed 1 No law can be without a lawgiver.' 'As there is a rule in us, there must be a judge.' 'From this a man may rationally be instructed that there is a Cod; fcf he may thus argue: 1 find myself naturally obliged to do this thing and avoid that, 1 have therefore a superior that doth oblige

me.'-f- Has Emmanuel Kant,, with his 'practical reason' and 'cate- gorical imperative/ said anything more direct and convincing than this Y

The affections and the will. These two were never resolved into h other by the puritans. They asserted that all knowledge

should load on to a ffect n .n, and that all genuine faith does produce

* Tin aba cti from the sermon on Thi Kncwltdfn of Ood,

t Aitriimt'X, Diao. I. The puritans generally appeeled to firsl principle*, intel- lectual end moral. Than Baxter ■eye, Rttuoni qfUu Christum Religion, P. 1, -Ami if I could n"i en iwei ■• loeptio, who denied the certainty of my judgment by Bonee- tion and reflexive intuition (how Dear t<> Looke), yel nature would nut suffer mo to

doubt ' ' By my aotiom I know that 1 em; uiul that 1 am a HtMitiout, intelligent,

thinking, willing, end operative being.1 'it ii true thai there ii in the natui I man's soul a certain aptitude to understand oertain truths as soon as the] art rtvealed ; thut is, pj soon ■ thi rery tutfura Pimm li observed. Ami it ii true that

PHILOSOPHICAL PRINCIPLES IN THE PURITAN THEOLOGY. xliii

affection. But they ever insisted that above the affections there is a more important power, the power of will. It is thus that Char- nock puts the relation of these attributes : — ' The choice of the will in all true knowledge treads upon the heel of the act of understand- ing, and men naturally desire the knowledge of that which is true, in order to the enjoyment of that which is good in it. The end of all the acts of the understanding is to cause a motion in the will and affections suitable to the apprehension.' ' Knowledge is but as a cloud that intercepts the beams of the sun, and doth not advan- tage the earth, unless melted into drops, and falling down into the bosom of it. Let the knowledge of the word of the truth drop down in a kindly shower upon your hearts, let it be a knowledge of the word heated with love.'*

II. Philosophic Principles. — We have seen that among the mental attributes he places 'the repository of principles/ The puritan divines do not attempt to expound the nature of these principles, and the accounts given by metaphysicians since that time, as well as prior

this disposition is brought to actual knowledge as soon as the mind comes to actual consideration of the things. But it is not true that there is any actual knowledge of any principles born in man.' It is wrong to * make it consist in certain axioms (as some say) born in us, or written in our hearts from our birth (as others say), dispositively there.' These distinctions do not exhaust the subject, but they contain important truth ; and if Locke had attended to them, he would have been saved from extravagant statements. Owen, in his Dissertation on Divine Justice, appeals, in proving the existence of justice, (1.) to the ' common opinion ' and innate con- ceptions of all ; (2.) to the consciences of all mankind ; (3.) to the public consent of all nations.

* Sermons on Knowledge of God and Regeneration. David Clarkson, in his account of the ' New Creature/ speaks of the following mental acts as involved in the religious exercises of the soul :— I. The Mind ok Undekstanding. And under this (1.) apprehensions, view, or notion ; (2.) judgment and assent aris- ing from apprehensions ; (3.) valuations proceeding from the estimative power of the mind ; (4.) designs or contrivances of ends ; (5.) inventions, whereby finds means towards ends ; (6.) reasonings, or discursive power ; (7.) thoughts, or cogitations ; (8.) consultations, the advising power which philosophers call BovXsvT/xrj, which shews by what means the good end may be secured. II. The Will, under which we have (1.) new inclinations, — Aristotle calls the act BovXyjtJtg, and the schoolmen, simplex volitio, in it the mind has a new object ; (2.) new inten- tions, aiming at something new, intending God and aiming at him ; (3.) fruitions, in which the mind rests and is contented ; (4.) new elections in choice of means for promoting ends, Aristotle's crgoa/gsff/; rcov ftgbg rb riXog ; (5.) new consents, in particular the soul consenting to enter into covenant with God ; (6.) new applica- tions, whereby the will applies the faculties to prosecute what it has pitched on ; (7.) new purposes, determinations, resolves, these being fixed and permanent. This analysis, taken with modifications from Aristotle and the scholastic divines, is too minute, but it shews how expanded a view the puritans took of the higher attributes of the mind as engaged in spiritual acts. In his sermon ' Of Faith,' he says — Faith implies (l.J knowledge ; (2 ) assent ; (3) dependence or procumbence. ' To rely upon Christ alone for salvation is saving faith.' See Sermons and Discourses on Several Divine Subjects, by the late Reverend and learned David Clarkson, B.D., and sometime Fellow of Clare Hall, Cambridge, 1696. In these sermons, the scholastic phrases, objective, subjective, effective, formaliler, interpretive, habitualiter, cast up in all profound discussion. The account of the mental faculties is the most extended we have seen in the puritan writings. That of Charnock is more succinct and judicious. But all the puritans proceed substantially on the same views. The view of faith is the Bame with that of Charnock, and it could easily be shewn that it is that held by the puritan divines generally.

xllV INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK's WORKS.

to it, have been sufficiently confused. So far as Charnock incidentally sketchestheir nature, his views are both just andprofound. He speaks of them as connatural* a phrase the praise of which has been ascribed to Shaftesbury ; but Culverwel, with whose writings Shaftesbury was well acquainted, uses connate, and Whichcote (see Aphorisms) uses connatural ; and connate and connatural were probably familiar phrases among the Platonic thinkers in Emmanuel College. Char- nock is fond of characterising these principles as ' common reason/ 1 nature within man ;' he speaks of ' the common principles in the conscience/ and in this form they are ' a law of nature writ upon the hearts of men, which will direct them to commendable actions if they will attend to the writings in the conscience.'

In establishing the existence of God in the opening of his most elaborate work, Charnock ever appeals to these principles of reason. 1 What is the general dictate of nature is a certain truth/ and with Cicero he appeals to common consent ; ' a general consent of all nations is to be esteemed as a law of nature/ He shews in regard to the conviction of the divine existence ; (1) that it hath been universal, no nation being without it ; (2) that it hath been consistent and uninterrupted in all kinds and conditions of men ; and (3) natural and innate. ' Every man is born with a restless instinct to be of some kind of religion or other, which implies some object of religion. The impression of a Deity is as common as reason, and of the same age with reason. It is a relic of knowledge after the fall of man, like fire under ashes, which sparkles as soon as ever the heap of ashes is opened. A notion is sealed up in the soul of every man : how could these people, who were unknown to one another, separate by seas and mountains, differing in various customs and manner of living, had no mutual intelligence one with another, light upon this as a common sentiment, if they had not been guided by one uniform reason in all their minds, by one nature common to them all?" While he represents the belief in God as thus a dictate of nature, he does not allege that it is formed independent of the observation of objects, or without the exercise of discursive thought. ' The notion of a God seems to be twisted with the nature of man, and is the first natural branch of common reason, or upon either the first inspection of a man into himself and his own state and constitution, or upon the first sight of any external visible

object .'-)*

Be has occasion to make use of important metaphysical prin- ciples, hut In- dors not, discuss them as a metaphysician. He inci- dentally refers to our ideas of Time and Eternity. I le accords wit h those divines who hold that God m.iv stand in a different relation to time from that in which man docs; hut he does not give any

countenance to the statements of those schoolmen, who, founding upon certain mystic expressions of Augustine, spoke of time as having no existence, no reality in the view of God. His view is characterised by his usual judgment 'Since God knows time, he

knows all things as they were in time ; he doth not know all thing! * Sermon on Itryrncndion, D, 111. f Attributes, Discourse I.

PHILOSOPHICAL PRINCIPLES IN THE PURITAN THEOLOGY. xlv

to be at once, though he knows at once what is, has been, and will be. All things are past, present, and to come, in regard to their existence ; but there is not past, present, and to come, in regard to God's knowledge of them, because he sees and knows not by any other but by himself; he is his own light by which he sees, his own glass wherein he sees ; beholding himself, he beholds all things.'*

David Hume had not yet risen to compel philosophers to discuss the precise nature of causation. Charnock proceeds as Bacon had done, and as all thinkers of his time still did, upon the Aristotelian distinction of causes into material, efficient, formal, and final, a dis- tinction, we may remark, founded on the nature of things, and having a deep but somewhat confused meaning. In regard to efficient cause he assumes that every occurrence has a cause, and with Aristotle, that there cannot be an infinite series of causey and reckons this a principle of reason, though not formed independent of the observation of things.

But the metaphysical topic which fell more especially under the notice of the puritan theologians was that of the freedom of the will, which they had to consider and discuss as against the rising Arminianism. Keally and professedly they followed Augustine and Calvin, whose doctrines however have often been misunder- stood. These profound thinkers were most sensitively anxious to have their doctrine of predestination distinguished from the fatalism of the Stoics. t They held that man had an essential freedom given him by his Maker, a freedom which made him a responsible being, and of which he could never be deprived. At the same time, they maintained that this freedom had been much impaired by sin, which has injured man first morally and then physically, so that the will is now enslaved. This is the doctrine resolutely defended by Augustine (see De Libero Arbitrio), and by Calvin (see his De Servitute et Liberatione Humani Arbitrii in reply to Pighius). They were followed by the puritans generally. Thus Owen in his ' Display of Arminianism' : — ' We grant man in the substance of all his actions as much power, liberty, and freedom, as a mere created nature is capable of. We grant him to be free in his choice from all outward exaction or inward natural necessity to work according to election and deliberation, spontaneously embracing what seemeth good unto him.'J The puritans clung to the Scrip-

* Attributes, Discourse on Eternity.

f It is a circumstance worthy of being noted, that in modern times, we have reversed the meaning of the phrases used by the ancient philosophers, and thus produced some confusion. The Stoics resolutely denied Necessitas, but held by Fatum (see Cicero De Fato), by which they meant what was spoken or decreed by God, whom they represented as an intellectual fire, developing all things in cycles, according to a fixed and eternal order. The arguments advanced by them in favour of fatalism are substantially the same with those urged in modern times in behalf of Philosophical Necessity.

J In the same treatise, Owen speaks of that ■ effectual working of his, according to his eternal purpose, whereby though some agents as the wills of men are causes free and indefinite or unlimited, lords of their own actions, in respect of their internal principle of operations (that is, their own nature), they are yet all, in respect of his decree, and by his powerful working, determined to this and that

Xlvi INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK's WORKS.

ture doctrine of predestination, but they did not identify it with the philosophic doctrine of Necessity as Jonathan Edwards did in the next century. They drew their doctrine from the Word of God, and founded it upon the perfection of God's Knowledge looking into the future as well as the past and present, and upon his Sovereignty doing all things, but all things wisely, justly, and bene- ficently. Some Calvinistic divines we acknowledge have drawn distinctions to save the freedom of the will which have rather wrecked it, and have used expressions which make our moral nature shudder. Charnock is wonderfully clear of all such extremes : — 1 God's foreknowledge of man's voluntary actions doth not neces- sitate the will of man.' ' It is certain all necessity doth not take away liberty ; indeed, a compulsive necessity takes away liberty, but a necessity of immutability removes not liberty from God. Why should then a necessity of infallibility in God remove liberty from the creature t ' God did not only know that we should do such actions, but that we should do them freely ; he foresaw that the will would freely determine itself to this or that.' ' God did not foreknow the actions of men as necessary but as free ; so that liberty is rather established by this foreknowledge than removed.' ' That God doth foreknow every thing, and yet that there is liberty in the rational creature, are both certain ; but how fully to reconcile them, may surmount the understanding of man.' As to his sovereignty and election, he declares, what the experience of every Christian responds to, ' It could not be any merit in the creature that might determine God to choose him. If the decree of election falls not under the merit of Christ's passion, as the pro- curing cause, it cannot fall under the merit of any part of the cor- rupted mass.' But he ever falls back upon the goodness and justice of God as regulating his sovereignty, 'As it is impossible for liim not to be sovereign, it is impossible for him to deny his deity and his purity. It is lawful to God to do what he will, but his will being ordered by the righteousness of his nature,

effect, in particular; not that they are compelled to do this, or hindered from doin^ that, but aro inclined and dijfoied to do this or that according to their proper manner of working, that i^ most freely.' 'We grant as large a freedom and dominion to onr wills over their own ;i<-t s as a creature Bubjecl to the supremo rulo of God's providence Is capable of. Endned we arc with Mien a liberty of will as is free from all outward compulsion and inward necessity, having an elective faculty

of applj in:' i! 'If unto that which seems good unto it, in which it has a free ehoice,

notwithstanding it is subservient to the decree of GodV 'The acts of will being

i re entities,' 'cannot have their e lenos and existence solely from the will itself,

and eannot l"1 thus, a-jr'ii ov, a lirst and supremo cause endued with an undcrived

.- ■ He distinguishes between « ill ■ as it. was at Brsl by ( lod created,' and • will >w by sin corrupted;' yet being considered in ts ■ also, they ascribe

more unto it than it was ever capahlo of.' ' 'l'h ere is hoth an iuipotenry and an

enmity in corrupted nature to anything ipiritually good.' ■ Even in spiritual things we deny that our wills are at all debarred or deprived of their proper liberty, but I,,.,-,. adeed, that we are qo| properly free until the Sou makes as free.' in

3 mil's /'rr.srrrntnrr, he says, 'The impoteney that is in Dl to do good is not I ermed rlliin -phyaiea, hoi h natural and moral.' These extra the views

sntertained hy the puritans generally, who meant simply to socmen the doctiines

written on the vn\ lace of Scripture, hut sometimes did si) hy douhtful metu-

iC l\ dj llle-ll

PHILOSOPHICAL PRINCIPLES IN THE PURITAN THEOLOGY. xlvi'i

as infinite as his will, he cannot do any thing but what is good.'*

The inspired writers as little profess to give a system of the faculties of the mind as of the material world. In mentioning the sun, moon, and stars, and the earth with its rocks, plants, and ani- mals, they proceed upon the ideas of their time ; and in the same manner they refer to the attributes of the soul in language under- stood by those whom they addressed — very often, we may add, imparting to the phrases and the notions embodied in them; a com- prehensiveness and an elevation which they never could have had but for their association with spiritual verities. In the Old Testa- ment, constant allusions' are made to the special senses of seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, and smelling ; to remembrances, imagi- nations, and knowledge ; to thoughts, understanding, and compre- hending ; to belief, trust, and confidence ; to devices, counsels, purposes, and intents ; to fear and hope, grief and joy, pity and compassion, anger and mercy, hatred and love. Among the Hebrews, as indeed in most nations, particular faculties were con- nected with particular parts of the body ; and we read of ' bowels/ the seat of sympathy ; of the ' reins/ the seat of deep and anxious thought; and of the ' heart/ the seat of all inward reflection. And here we think it of some importance to call attention to the cir- cumstance that the Scriptures do not distinguish, as we do, the heart from the head ; and do not make the heart signify mere emotion, but use it to include all that passes through the mind prior to action; and we read of the 'imaginations' and of the 'thoughts' of man's heart, — hence the absurdity of arguing that faith consists in feeling, from the fact that we are said to believe with the heart. In the New Testament, we have a more ad- vanced view; and we read of the 'mind' and 'conscience/ the 'soul' and 'spirit,' and 'will' has a higher place allotted to it. The preacher and divine must, like the inspired waiters, proceed so far upon the distribution of the mental powers understood by their hearers and readers ; but it will be found that when they take a limited view of the human mind and its capacities, both their preaching and their theology will be very much narrowed. It could easily be shewn that the inspired writers have something suited to every essential quality of man's complex nature, provid- ing symbols for the senses, images for the fancy, types for the imagination, aiding the memory by interesting correlations of time and number, presenting arguments to the understanding, rousing appeals to the conscience, a lovely object to draw forth the affec- tions, and motives to persuade the will. The broad and compre- hensive views of the faculties taken by the puritan preachers led them to address all the parts of man's complex nature.

As the Bible is not a book of science, mental or material, so it is not a book of philosophy. Nor should preaching, nor should theo- logy, affect to be metaphysics. If any thinker is discontented with * Attributes, Discourses on God's Knowledge and Dominion.

Xlviii INTRODUCTION TO CHARNOCK's WORKS.

past speculative philosophy, he is at liberty to attempt to amend it. But let him do so in a professedly philosophic work, written always in a religious spirit, but without identifying religion with his theories. Still it will be difficult for the theologian, difficult even for the preacher, to avoid proceeding on an implied philo- sophy. If we do nothing more than exhort persons to beware of satisfying themselves, with a speculative without a practical knowledge, we are proceeding, whether we know it or not, on an Aristotelian distinction. A profound philosophy has in all ages sought to ally itself with theology. Religion may be inconsistent with a superficial or a one-sided, but not with a deep or a catholic philosophy. A shallow philosophy will always tend to produce a shallow theology. Suppose, for instance, we adopt the principle of Hobbes and the sensational school of France, and hold that all our ideas are got from the senses, it will be difficult to establish any of the higher truths of religion ; or suppose we assert that virtue is mere utility, it will be difficult to vindicate the justice of God in the awful punishment of the sinner. Philosophic principles should certainly not obtrude themselves in the disquisitions of the divine; but philosophic conceptions may underlie his whole mode of thought and discussion, and impart a coherency and consistency to the system constructed by him. The profound views of human reason, in its strength and in its weakness, taken by the puritan divines, enabled them to construct a theology in some measure corresponding to the profundity of Scripture, and defective only in this, that at times it proposed to settle what should have been left free, and to embrace all revealed truths, which, in their entireness, will always refuse to be compressed within human systems.

A TREATISE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE.

VOL. I.

TO THE EEADER.

Reader, — Thou art here presented with a little piece of a great man ; great, indeed, if great piety, great parts, great learning, and great wisdom, may be admitted to claim that title; and we verily believe that none well acquainted with him will deny him his right, however malevolent persons may grudge him the honour. It hath been expected and desired by many that some account of his life might be given to the world ; but we are not willing to offer violence to his ashes by making him so public now he is dead, who so much affected privacy while he lived. Thou art therefore desired to rest satisfied with this brief account of him : That being very young he went to Cambridge, where, in Immanuel College, he was brought up under the tuition of the present Archbishop of Canterbury. What gracious workings and evidences of the new birth appeared in him while there, hath already been spoken of by* one who was at that time his fellow- collegiate and intimate. Some time he afterward spent in a private family, and a little more in the exercise of his ministry in Southwark, then removed to New College inOxon, where he was fellow, and spent several years ; being then taken notice of for his singular gifts, and had in reputation by the most learned and godly in that university, and upon that account the more frequently put upon public work. Being thence (the year after he had been proctor) called over into Ireland to a constant public employment, he exercised his ministry for about four or five years, not with the approbation only, but to the admiration of the most wise and judicious Christians, and with the concurrent applause of such as were of very different sentiments from him in the things of religion. Nay, even those that never loved his piety, yet would commend his learning and gifts, as being beyond exception, if not above compare. About the year 1660, being discharged from the public exercise of his ministry, he returned back into England, and in and about London spent the greatest part of fifteen years, without any call to his old work in a settled way, but for about these five years last past hath been more known by his constant preaching, of which we need not speak, but let them that heard him speak for him ; or, if they should be silent, his works will do it.

He was a person of excellent parts, strong reason, great judgment, and (which do not often go together) curious fancy, of high improvements, and general learning, as having been all his days a most diligent and methodical student, and a great redeemer of time, rescuing not only his restless hours in the night, but his very walking time in the streets, from those imperti- nencies and fruitless vanities which do so customarily fill up men's minds, and steal away their hearts from those better and more noble objects, which do so justly challenge their greatest regards. This he did by not only care- fully watching (as every good Christian should do), but constantly writing down his thoughts, whereby he both governed them better, and furnished * Mr Johnson, in his Sermon on occasion of Mr Charnock's death.

TO THE READER.

himself with many materials for his most elaborate discourses. His chief talent was his preaching-gift, in which, to speak modestly, he had few equals. To this, therefore, as that for which his Lord and Master had best fitted him (neglecting the practice of physic, in which he had arrived at a considerable measure of knowledge), he did especially addict himself, and direct his studies ; and even when providence denied him opportunities, yet he was still laying in more stock, and preparing for work against he might be called to it. When he was in employment, none that heard him could justly blame his retiredness, he being, even when most private, continually at work for the public ; and had he been less in his study, he would have been less liked in the pulpit. His library, furnished, though not with a numerous, yet a curious collection of books, was his workhouse, in which he laboured hard all the week, and on the Lord's day made it appear he had not been idle ; and that though he consulted his privacy, yet he did not indulge his sloth. He was somewhat reserved where he was not well acquainted, otherwise very free, affable, and communicative, where he understood and liked his com- pany. He affected not much acquaintance, because he would escape visitants, well knowing how much the ordinary sort of friends were apt to take up of his time, which he could ill spare from his beloved studies, meeting wTith few that could give him better entertainment with their company than he could give himself alone. They had need be very good, and very learned, by whose converse he could gain more than by his own thoughts and books. He was a true son of the Church of England, in that sound doctrine laid down in the articles of religion, and taught by our most famous ancient divines and reformers ; and a real follower of their piety, as well as a strenuous main- tainer of the truth they professed. His preaching was mostly practical, yet rational and argumentative, to his hearers' understandings as well as affec- tions ; and where controversies came in his way, he shewed great acuteness and judgment in discussing and determining them, and no less skill in apply- ing them to practice : so that he was indeed ' a workman that needed not to be ashamed,' being able * by sound doctrine both to exhort and convince gainsayers.' Some have thought his preaching too high for vulgar hearers ; and it cannot be denied but his gifts were suited to the more intelligent sort of Christians ; yet it must withal be said, that if he were sometimes deep, he was never abstruse ; he handled the great mysteries of the gospel with much clearness and perspicuity ; so that if in his preaching he were above most, it was only because most were below him. Several considerable treatises on some of tho most important points of religion ho finished in his ordinary course, which he hath left behind him, in the same form he usually wrote them for tho pulpit. This comes out first, as a prodromui to several others igned to bo made public, as soon as they can bo with convenioncy tran- scribed, which (if tho Lord will, and sparo life) shall bo attested with our hands ; and whatever any elso shall publish, can bo but imperfect notos (his own copies being under our revisal at tho request of his friends) takon from him in tho pulpit ; in which, what mistakes do often happen, every one knows, and we havo found by oxperienco in tho caso of this very author more thin once. This was thought fit to bo said to seeure the reputation of tho dead, and provent tho abuse of tho living. These sermons might havo come out with tho solemn ceremony oflargo rocommeudat ions, the author's worth being 80 woll known to, and his preaching so highly esteemed by, the most eminent ministors about this city; but it was judged needless, his own works being sufficient to praiso him.

Ono thing more is to be added : that mob as he is here, such ho is in his othor piocos. So that thou hast here, reador, a specimen of tho strain and

TO THE READER. 5

spirit of this holy man, this being his familiar and ordinary way of preach- ing, and these sermons coming out first, not as if they were the nonsuch of what he left behind him, but because they could soonest be despatched, and to obviate the injuries might else be done by spurious treatises both to him and thee ; and likewise by this little taste to gratify the appetites of such who, having been his auditors, did long even with greediness to feast them- selves again upon those excellent truths which in the delivery were so sweet to them. Perhaps too it may quicken their appetites who never heard him, it may be never yet heard of him. If thou like this cluster, fear not but the vintage will be answerable; if this little earnest be good metal, the whole sum will be no less current. That a blessing from heaven may be upon this work, and upon thee in reading and studying the nature, and beauty, and ends of divine providence, and that the Lord of the harvest (especially when so many are daily called home) would send forth more and more such labourers into the harvest, is the hearty prayer of

Thine in the Lord,

Richard Adams. Edward Veal.

A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE.

For the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to shew himself strong in the behalf of them whose heart is perfect towards him. — 2 Chbon. XVI. 9.

In the beginning of the chapter you find Baasha king of Israel raising walls about, and fortifying Rarnah, a place about twelve miles from Jerusa- lem, the metropolis of Judah, intending by that means to block Asa up, because Rainah lay just upon the road between Jerusalem and Samaria, the seats of the two kings, ver. 1.

Baasha was probably afraid of the revolt of Israel to Judah, upon that reformation of religion wrought by Asa, and therefore would fortify that place, to be a hindrance, and to intercept any that should pass upon that account ; and to this purpose makes great preparation, as appears ver. 6, for with the provision Baasha had made for the fortification of Ramah, Asa, after the seizing of the materials, builds two towns, Geba and Mispah.

Asa seeing Baasha so busy about this design, and fearing the consequence of it, hath recourse to carnal policy rather than to God ; and therefore enters into leaguo with Benhadad, a neighbour, though an idolatrous prince, and purchaseth his assistance with the sacrilegious price of the treasure of the temple, ver. 2, 3 ; and hereby engageth him to invade the king of Israel's territories, that ho might thereby find work for Baasha in another part, and so divert him from that design upon which ho was so bent : ver. 8, ' Go, break thy league with Baasha, that ho may depart from mo.'

Benhadad is easily persuaded by the quantity of gold, &c., to break his league, and mako an inroad, and proves victorious, and takes many cities where tho magazines and stores wore laid op, ver. 4.

B i:isha now, to savo his country, and make head against his enemies, is forced to leave leunah; whereupon Asa, who watched his opportunity, Heizeth the materials he had left for the fortifying of leimah, and puts thom to another use, ver. 5, (>.

Hanani the seer ll presently sent by God with a threatening of war, becauso he applies himself to a heathen prince rather than to the Lord of

hosts, ver. 7; his sin is aggravated hv God's former kindness to him, and oxperienco ho had given him of his miraculous providonco in his succoss against that vast army of the Ethiopians and Luhims, or Lybians, and that upon his rccourso to or rolianco on Ctod ; and that ho should afterwards

2 ChRON. XVI. 9. J A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 7

have recourse to the arm of flesh was a disparagement to God's providential kindness, ver. 8. He further aggravates his sin by the consideration of God's general providential care of his creatures, and the particular end of it, and of all his providences, viz., the good of his church and people, ver. 9, 1 For the eyes of the Lord,' &c.

Eyes of the Lord, in Scripture, signify,

1. His knowledge : Job. xxxiv. 21, ' For his eyes are upon all the ways of man, and he sees all his goings.' Heb. iv. 13, ' All things are naked and opened unto the eyes of him with whom we have to do.'*

2. His providence.

(1.) For good, so it notes his grace and good will; so his eyes and his heart are joined together : 1 Kings vi. 3, ' Mine eyes and my heart shall be there perpetually,' viz., in his temple, the place which he had hallowed to put his name there for ever. Ps. xxxii. 8, ■ I will guide him with mine eye ;' that is, I will counsel him, and direct him in a gracious and a favourable way. Therefore, to be cut off from the eye of the Lord, is to be deprived of his favour, Ps. xxxi. 22, for none can be cut off from a simple knowledge of God ; so Zech. iii. 9, ■ seven eyes upon one stone,' that is, the providence of God was in an especial manner with Christ in the midst of his passion.

(2.) For evil, so it notes his anger and vindictive justice. Isa. iii. 8, 1 Their doings are against the Lord, to provoke the eyes of his glory.' Kindness and anger appear first in the eye, one by its pleasantness, the other by its redness.

1 Run,' that notes diligence and care, an industrious inspection into all things. Ps. cxix. 32, ■ I will run the ways of thy commandments,' noting speed and diligence.

In the verse we have, I I. A description of God's providence. I II. The end of it.

I. The description of God's providence.

1. The immediateness of it ; '■ his eyes,' his own eyes, not another's. Not like princes, who see by their servants' eyes more than by their own, what is done in their kingdoms ; his care is immediate. Though angels are ministers of his providence, the guardians and watchers of the world, yet God is their captain, and is always himself upon the watch.

2. Quickness and speed of providence ; ' run.' His eyes do not only walk, but run the round ; they are not slumbering eyes, nor drowsy eyelids ; their motion is quick and nimble.

3. Extent of providence ; ' the whole earth ;' all things in the earth, all the hairs on the heads of these men : the meanest worm as well as the mightiest prince ; the lowest shrub as well as the tallest cedar ; every cranny, corner, or chink of the earth.

4. Diligence of providence ; t to and fro.' His care is repeated, he looks this way and that way, again and again ; his eyes are not confined to one place, fixed on one object, but are always rolling about from one place to another.

5. The efficacy of his providence ; his care doth engage his strength ; he doth not only discover dangers, but prevent them ; he hath eyes to see, and power to order all things according to his pleasure ; wise to see, and strong to save.

II. The end of providence ; « to shew himself strong,' &c.

rgctxyfi-og significat spinam dorsi, et in mactatis animalibus per spinam omnia appa- rent interiora, ita ut nihil latere potest. — Glassius, vol. iii. 1, 106.

8 A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. [2 ChRON. XVI. 9.

1. Finis cujus, * to shew himself strong.' Heb. to * make himself strong,' but best translated, to ■ shew himself strong.' It is not an addition of strength, but an exercise of strength that is here meant.

2. Finis cui, or the persons for whom, ' those that are perfect in heart.' Doctrines.

1. There is a providence exercised by God in the world.

2. All God's providences in the world are in order to the good of his people.

3. Sincerity in God's way gives a man an interest in all God's provi- dences, and the good of them.

1. For the first, there is a providential inspection and government of all things in the world by God. It is not a bare sight of things that is here meant by God's eye, but a sight and knowledge in order to the govern- ing and disposing of them. View this doctrine at your leisure, preached by God himself, with an inconceivable elegancy, and three whole chapters spent in the sermon, Job xxxviii., xxxix., xl., and by the psalmist, Ps. cxlvii. cxlviii.

Some observe that the society of angels and heavenly creatures is repre- sented, Ezek. i., by a quaternarian number, because the world is divided into four dimensions, east, west, north, and south, as intimating the exten- sion of God's providence over all parts.*

Things are not ordered in the world cceco impetu, not by blind fortune, but an all-seeing Deity, who hath the management of all sublunary affairs. Tig (AsydXri dbvuplg Trig wgovotccg ; t wavrcc iin uglorou vov yivsrou, was the theological maxim of the Stoics.

Before I come particularly to explain the providence of God, I shall lay down some propositions as the foundations of this doctrine.

1. God hath an indisputable and peculiar right to the government of the world. None ever questioned God's right, no, nor his act, but those that were swelled with an unreasonable ambition, such as Nebuchadnezzar, who for this cause underwent the punishment of a seven years' banishment from the society of men, Dan. iv. 17.

None indeed that acknowledge a God, did or can question God's right, though they may question his will and actual exercise of his right. He is the creator, and therefore is the sovereign Lord and Ruler. The world is his family, and, as a master, he hath an undoubted right to govern his own family : he gave all creatures their beings, and therefore hath a right to enact their laws, appoint their stations, and fix their ends. It is as much his property and prerogative to rule, as it is to create. Creation is so pecu- liarly proper to God, that it is not communicable to any creature, no, not to angels, though of a vast capacity in other things, and that because they are creatures themselves. It is as impossible for one creature, or all, to govern the world, and manage all tho boisterous passions of mon to just and glorious onds, as to croato thorn. It is true, God usoth instruments in the oxocutive part of his providenco ; but ho doth not design the government of tho world only by instruments. Ho usoth thorn not for necessity, but orna- ment. Ho created tho world without thorn, and therefore can govorn the world without thorn.

I irtus creativa est fund amentum provulnitur, et ari/utnenhun ad provi- dentiam. This right is foundod upon that of croation, as he is the efficient causo of it. This right is also foundod upon tho oxcolloncy of his boing ; that which is excellent having a right to rule, in tho way of that oxcolloncy, that which is inferior. Every man hath a natural right to rule another in

* Hvdaon'i Divine Bight of Uovonnnout, chap. vi. p. 3. t Clomoua ad (Joriuth, [>. 84.

2 ChRON. XVI. 9.] A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 9

his own art and skill wherein he excels him. If it be the right of a chief magistrate to manage the concerns of his kingdom, with what reason can we deny that right to God ?

2. God only is qualified for the universal government of the world. All creatures, as they were unable to create themselves, so are unable to manage themselves without the direction of a superior power, much more unable to manage the vast body of the world. God is only fit in regard of,

(1.) Power. Conservation is continuata creatio ; that power which is fit to create, is only fit to preserve. A continued creation belongs as much to omnipotency as the first creation.

The government of it requires no less power, both in regard of the numer- ousness of the objects, and the strange contrariety of passions in rational creatures, and qualities in irrational ; conservation is but one continued act with creation, following on from an instant to duration, as a line from its mathematical point.*

(2.) Holiness and righteousness. If he that hates right is not fit to govern, Job xxxiv. 17, then he that is infinitely righteous, and hath an in- finite love to righteousness, is the fittest to undertake that task ; without righteousness there would be nothing but confusion in the whole creation. Disorder is the effect of unrighteousness, as order is the effect of justice. The justest man is fittest for subordinate government among men, and the infinite just God is fittest for the universal government of the world.

(3.) Knowledge. An infinite knowledge to decry all the contrivances and various labyrinths of the hearts of men, their secret intentions and aims, is necessary. The government of the world consists more in ordering the inward faculties of men, touching the hearts, and tuning them to play what note he pleases, than in external things. No creature hath the skill or power to work immediately upon the will of man ; neither angels nor devils can do it immediately, but by proposing objects, and working upon the fancy, which is not always successful. He that created the heart, knows all the wards of it, and hath only the skill to turn it and incline it as he pleases ; he must needs know all the inclinations of the creatures and their proper activities, since he alone conferred all those several principles and qualities upon them. * Known unto God are all his works from the begin- ning of the world,' Acts xv. 8, viz., the particular natures, inclinations, in- ward motions, which no creature fully understands ; he needs no deputy to inform him of what is done, he is everywhere, and sees all things. Worldly governors cannot be everywhere essentially present.

God is so perfect in his knowledge of all things, that he cannot be im- posed upon by the evil suggestions and flatteries of men or angels.

In nature it is so : the eye guides the body, because that is the chief organ of sensitive knowledge ; the mind, which is the seat of wisdom, guides the whole.

(4.) Patience. Infinite patience is requisite to the preservation and govern- ment of the world, in the circumstances wherein it hath stood ever since the fall. What angel, though the meekest, or can all the angels in heaven, be masters of so much patience as is needful for this work of governing the world, though for the space of one day ? Could they bear with all those evils which are committed in the world in the space of twenty-four hours ? Might we not reasonably conceive, that they would be so tired with the obliquities, disorders, deformities which they would see in the acts of men (besides all the evil which is in the hearts of men, which He without the verge of their

* Taylor's Exemplar, preface.

10 A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. [2 ChRON. XYI. 9.

knowledge), that they would rather call for fire from heaven to burn the world to ashes.

Averroes* thought that because of God's slowness to anger, he meddled not with sublunary concerns. This rather fits him for it, because he can bear with the injuries of wicked men, otherwise the world would not con- tinue a moment.

Angels, though powerful, holy, wise and patient creatures, yet being crea- tures, they want the infiniteness of all these qualifications which are neces- sary to this government. Though they are knowing, yet they know not men's hearts ; though they are wise, yet they may be charged with a folly uncapable of this ; though holy, yet not able in this respect to manage it to the ends and designs of an infinite holiness; though nimble, yet cannot be in all parts of the world at every turn : but the providence of God is infallible, because of his infinite wisdom ; indefatigable, because of his omnipotency ; and righteous, because of his goodness.

3. There can be no reason rendered why God should not actually govern the world, since he only hath a right and fitness. If God doth not actually govern it, it is either because he cannot, or because he will not.

(1.) Not because he cannot. This inability must be either for want of knowledge, or want of power. The one, if asserted, would deny his omni- potence, the other his omniscience ; the one would make him a weak God, the other an ignorant God, and consequently no God.

(2.) Not because he will not ; if he can and will not, it is, say some, a testimony of envy, that he maligns the good of his creatures ; but not to insist upon this ; this must be either because of the,

[l.J Difficulty. This cannot be. What difficulty can there be in a single word, or one act of his will, which can be done by God without any molesta- tion, were there millions of worlds as well as this ? For still they would be finite, and so governable by an infinite superior. May we not more reasonably think the forming such a mass would require more pains than the govern- ment of it ? The right stringing an instrument is more trouble to a skilful musician, than the tripping over the strings afterwards to make an harmony. What difficulty can it be to Omnipotence ? Is it a greater labour to preserve and govern, than it was to create ? Doth not the soul order every part of the body, and all its functions, without any pain to it ? and shall not the God that made that soul so indefatigable, much more manage the concern- ments of the world without labour to himself ? Is it not as easy with God to guide all these things by one single act of his will, as for me, by an act of my soul, to do many tilings without a distinct act of cogitation or considera- tion before ? Can it be more laborious to him to govern tho world, than it is to know all things in tho world? Ho sees all things in an instant by one act of his understanding, and he orders all creatures in a moment by one act of his will. Can oik; act of his will he more painful than one act o( his un- derstanding? Can ho with a word make this gltal ball? and can he not with M much ease Order all to conform to the law of his own righteous will? Can a cont inual eruption of goodness be a difficulty to an infinite being, which we find natural to the sun, to the fountains, to the sea, to many works

of that omnipotent goodneet ? Or,

[2.) Disparagement. Denial of Cod's providence over the lesser things of the world did arise from the consideration of the state of monarehs, who thought it an abridgment of their felicity and dignity, to stoop to inch low

considerations as the miniituht of their estates might exact from them, but left them to their vice gerents. I » 1 1 1 they consider not that the felicity of

* Trap on Bzod. xxxiv.

2 CHRON. XVI. 9.] A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 11

God as it respects the creature, is to communicate his goodness to as many subjects as he had made capable of his care. If it were his glory to create the world, can it be his dishonour to govern it ? The glorifying his wis- dom is as honourable to him as the magnifying his power ; though both are eminent in creation and providence, yet his wisdom is more signal in the governing, as his power was in framing of the world.

Why was it not as much a disparagement to God to create things con- temptible in our eyes, as since he hath created them to take care of them, and marshal them for his glorious ends ? The sun in the heavens is a sha- dow of God, which doth not disdain to communicate its natural goodness, and emit its beams to the meanest creatures, and let the little flies sport themselves in them, as well as the greatest princes, and transmits an influ- ence upon things obscure and at a distance from it, whereby it manifests an universal regard to all. And would it not be a disparagement to an infinite goodness to be outstripped by a creature, which he hath set up for a natural communication of goodness to the rest of the world ? The very considera- tion of the sun, and the nature of it, gives us as much an account of God as any inanimate being whatsoever. It is as much the sun's honour to pro- duce a small insect, as the growth of the greatest plant.

Have not all creatures, a natural affection in them to preserve and provide for their own ? * hath not God much more, who endued all creatures with that disposition ? Whatsoever is a natural perfection in creatures, is emi- nently an infinite perfection in God. If it be therefore a praise to you to preserve your own, can it be a disgrace to God ? You may as well say it is as much a dishonour to him to be good, as to have a tender regard to his creatures. Censure him as well you may for creating them for your delight, as preserving and governing them for the same end. They are all good, for he pronounced them so ; and being so, a God of goodness will not account them unworthy of his care. Are they now the products of his omnipotent wisdom ? and shall not they be the objects of his directing wisdom ? If they are not unworthy of God to create, how can they be unworthy of God to govern them ? It would be as much below him to make them, as to rule them when they were made.

4. Therefore, God doth actually preserve and govern the world; though angels are in ministry in some particular works of his providence, yet God is the steersman who gives out his particular orders to them.

Jacob's ladder had the top in heaven, where God stood to keep it firm, its foot on earth, and the angels going up and down upon several errands at their master's beck.

As God made all things for himself, so he orders the ends of all things made by him for his own glory. For being the most excellent and intelli- gent agent, he doth reduce all the motions of his creatures to that end for which he made them.

This actual government of the world by God brancheth itself out in three things.

1. Nothing is acted in the world without God's knowledge. The vision of the wheels inEzekiel presents us with an excellent portraiture of providence, there are eyes round about the wheels : Ezek. i. 18, ' Their wings were full of eyes,' &c.

The eye of God is upon the whole circle of the creatures' motion. In all the revolutions in the world, there is the eye of God's omniscience to see them, and the arm of his omnipotence to guide them. Not the most retired corner, or the darkest cell, not the deepest cavern, or most inward projecc- nor the most secret wickedness, not the closest goodness, but the eye of * Mornae. de Verit. Kelig. Christian, chap. xi.

12 A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. [2 ChRON. XYI. 9.

the Lord beholds it : Prov. xv. 3, * The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.' He hears the words, sees the actions, knows the thoughts, registers the gracious discourses, bottles up the penitent tears, and considers all the ways of men; not a whispered oath, not an atheistical thought, though but only peeping upon the heart, and sink- ing down again in that mass of corruption, not a disorderly word, but he knows and marks it. The soul hath a particular knowledge of every act, because it is the spring of every act in any member, and nothing is done in this little world, but the soul knows it. Surely, then, there is not an act done in the world, nor the motion of any creature, but as God doth concur to it, he must needs know what he doth concur to. The knowledge and ordaining every thing is far less to the infinite being of God, than the knowledge and ordaining every motion of the body is to a finite soul.

Or, suppose a soul clothed with a body of as big a proportion as the matter of the whole creation, it would actuate this body, though of a greater bulk, and know every motion of it ; how much more God, who hath infinity and excellency and strength of all angels and souls, must need actuate this world, and know every motion of it ! There is nothing done in the world but some creature or other knows it ; he that acts it doth at least know it. If God did not know it, the creatures then in that particular knowledge would be superior to God, and know something more than God knows ; can this be possible ?

2. Nothing is acted in the world without the will of God. His will either commands it, or permits it : Eph. i. 11, 'He works all things after the counsel of his own will,' Ps. cxxxv. 6, ' Whatsoever the Lord pleased, that did he in heaven and in earth.'

Even the sins of the world his will permits them, his power assists in the act, and his wisdom orders the sinfulness of the act for holy ends. The four chariots in Zech. vi. 2-5, by which some understand angels, are sent upon commission into the several parts of the world, and compared to chariots, both for their strength, their swiftness, their employment in a military way to secure the church. These are said to come out of the two mountains of brass, ver. 1, which signify the irreversible decrees of God, which the angels are to execute.* He alarms up the winds, when he would have Jonah arrested in his flight. He sounds a retreat to them, and locks them up in their chambers, Ps. cvii. 25-29. Bread hath a natural virtue in it to nourish, but it must be accompanied with his secret blessing, Mat. iv. 4.

Virtuto primi actus, agunt agentia omnia quicquid agunt.

8. Nothing doth subsist without God's caro and power. His eyes running to and fro, implies not only knowledge, but caro. Ho doth not carelessly behold what is done in the world, but, liko a skilful pilot, ho sits at tho helm, and steers tho world in what course it should Bail. Our being we owe to his power, our well-being to his cure, our motion and exerting of every faculty to his mereii'ul providence and oononrrence ; ' in him wo livo, and move, and havo our being,' Acts xvii. 2H. He (Values OUT being, preserves our life, concurs with our motion. This is an idea that bean date in the minds of mon witli the very notion of a Godt Why else did tho heathen in all their straits fly to their altars, and till their temples with eries and sacrifices? To what, purpose was this, if they had not acknowledged God's suporinton- deiiev, his taking notice of their cause, hearing their prayers, considering their cries? Why should they do this, if they thought that God did not regard human all'airs, but stood untouched with a souse of their miseries ?

* Reynolds.

2 ChRON. XVI. 9.] A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 13

If all things were done by chance, there could be no predictions of future things, which we frequently find in Scripture, and by what ways accomplished. Impossible it is that anything can be continued without his care. If God should in the least moment withhold the influence of his providence, we should melt into nothing, as the impression of a seal upon the water vanishes* as soon as the seal is removed ; or as the reflection of the face in the glass disappears upon the first instant of our removal from it. The light in the air is by participation of the light of the sun ; the light in the air withdraws upon the departure of the sun. The physical and moral goodness [of J the creature would vanish upon the removal of God from it, who is the fountain of both.

What an artificer doth work, may continue, though the workman dies, because what he doth is materially, as to the matter of it, ready to his hands ; he creates not the matter, but only sets materials together, and disposeth them into such a form and figure. But God gives a being to the matter and form of all things, and therefore the continuance of that being depends upon his preserving influence.* God upholds the world, and causes all those laws which he hath impressed upon every creature, to be put in exe- cution : not as a man that makes a watch, and winds it up, and then suffers it to go of itself ; or that turns a river into another channel, and lets it alone to run in the graff he hath made for it ; but there is a continual concurrence of God to this goodly frame. For they do not only live, but move in him, or by him ; his living and omnipotent power runs through every vein of the creation, giving it life and motion, and ordering the acts of every part of this great body. All the motions of second causes are ultimately resolved into the providence of God, who holds the first link of them in his hands, Hosea ii. 21, 22. More particularly, the nature of providence may be explained by two propositions.

Prop. 1. The universality of it. His eyes run to and fro throughout the whole earth.

1. It is over all creatures, (1.) the highest, (2.) the lowest.

(1.) The highest and most magnificent pieces of the creation.

[1.] Over Jesus Christ, the first-born of every creature. God's providence was in an especial manner conversant about him, and fixed upon him. It was by the determinate counsel of God, that he was delivered up, Acts ii. 23. His providence was diligently exercised about him in his whole course. Christ answers his mother's solicitousness with the care his Father took of him : Luke ii. 49, ' Wist you not that I must be about my Father's busi- ness ?' Do you not know that I am about those things my Father takes care of ? This exposition best agrees with his reproof, who blames them for creating so much trouble to themselves upon their missing him in the town. It is not, Why do you interrupt me in my dispute with the Jewish doctors ? But ' How is it that you sought me ? Do you think I am not under the care of my Father ?'f It was particularly exercised on him'in the midst of his passion, Zech. iii. 9. Seven eyes were upon the stone ; seven, a number of perfection, a perfect and peculiar care of God attended him.

[2.] Over angels and men. The soul of the least animal, and the smallest plant, is formed and preserved by God, but the breath of mankind is more particularly in his hand : Job xii. 10, 'In whose hand is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind.'

First, Over good angels and men. He charges his angels with folly and weakness. They cannot direct themselves without his wisdom, nor preserve * Stillingfleet, Orig. sacraj. lib. iii. cap. 3, sect. 3. t h roTg rou Kargbg. Hammond in loc.

14 A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. [2 CHRON. XVI. 9.

themselves without his power. God hath a book of providence, wherein he writes down who shall be preserved, and this book Moses understands : Exod. xxxii. 33, ' Whosoever hath sinned against me, him will I blot out of my book;' not the book of election, — no names written there are blotted out, — but out of the book of providence. As it is understood, Isa. iv. 3, ' Every one that is written among the living in Jerusalem,' i. e. every one whom God designs to preservation and deliverance.* That God, surely, that hath a care of the mean animals, will not be careless of his affectionate worshippers. He that feeds the ravens will not starve his doves. He that satisfies the ravening wolf, will not famish his gentle lambs and harmless sheep. He shelters Jacob from Laban's fury, Gen. xxxi., and tutors him how he should carry himself towards the good man. He brought Haman out of favour, and set Mordecai in his place for the deliverance of the Jews which were designed for slaughter.

Secondly, Over evil angels and men. God's power preserves them, his patience suffers them, his wisdom orders them, and their evil purposes and performances, to his own glory. The devil cannot arrest Job, nor touch a lamb of his flock, nor a hair of his head, without a commission from God. He cannot enter into one filthy swine in the Gaderenes' herd, without asking our Saviour leave. Whatever he doth, he hath a grant or permission from heaven for it. God's special providence is over his people, but his general providence over all kingdoms and countries.

He takes care of Syria, as well as of Judea ; and sends Elisha to anoint Hazael king of Syria, as well as Jehu king of Israel, 1 Kings xix. 15. Though Ishmael had mocks for Isaac, yet the God of Isaac provided for the wants of Ishmael ; Gen. xxv. 16-18, ' He causeth his sun to shine upon the unjust,' as well as ' the just,' to produce fruits and plants for their pre- servation.

(2.) Over the meanest creatures. As the sun's light, so God's providence disdains not the meanest worms. It is observed, that in the enumeration of the works of creation, Gen. i. 21, only the great whales and small creeping things are mentioned, and not the intermediate creatures, to shew that the least as well as the greatest are under his care. It is one of his titles to be the preserver of beasts as well as men, Neh. ix. G. He is the great caterer for all creatures ; Ps. civ. 21, ' The young lions seek their meat from God.' They attend him for their daily portion, and what they gather and meet with in their pursuit, is God's gift to them, ver. 27, 28. He listens to the cries of the young ravens, though they are birds of prey. ■ He givei to the beast his food, and to the young ravens which cry,' Ps. cxlvii. 9. In Ps. civ. David throughout the whole reads a particular lecturo of this doctrine, wherein you may take a prospect of God's providence all over the world. He acts them by a commandment and imprinted law upon their natures, and makes them Observe exactly those statutes he enacts for the guidance o( them in their proper operations. Ps. exhii. 15, ' He sendeth forth his command- ment upon earth, and his word runs very swiftly,' viz., his word of provi- dence. God keeps them is the observation of their first ordinance. Ps, <-\ix. 91, ' They continue this day according to thine ordinances, for all are

thy servants,' i.e. tho earth and what is upon it. They observe their stations, the law God hath set them, as if they had a rational knowledge of their duty in their particular motions ; Ps. civ. 19, ' the sun knoweth his going down.' BometimSi he makes them instruments of his ministry to us,

lojnetis wtioners of oil judgments. Lies and frogs arm themselves

;it, his command to punish Egypt. lie makes a whale to attend Jonas drop- ping into tho sea, to DC an instrument hoth to punish and preserve him. * Ilorton'a Serin. PS. Ixxxvii. p. 6G.

2 CHRON. XVI. 9. J A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 15

Yea, and which is more wonderful, the multitude of the very cattle is brought among others as a reason 'of a people's preservation from destruction, Jonah iv. 11 ; the multitude of the cattle are joined with the multitude of the infants, as an argument to spare Nineveh. He remembers Noah's cattle as well as his sons ; Gen viii. 1, ' God remembered Noah, and every living thing, and all t the cattle that were with him in the ark.' He numbers the very hairs of our heads, that not ono falls without his will. Not only the immortal soul, but the decaying body ; not only the vital parts of that body, but the incon- siderable hairs of the head, are under his care.

Obs. 1. This is no dishonour to God, to take care of the meanest creatures. It is as honourable for his power to preserve them, and his wisdom to govern them, as for both to create them. It is one part of a man's righteousness to be merciful to his beasts, which he never made ; and is it not a part of God's righteousness, as the rector of the world, to take care of those creatures, which he did not disdain to give a being to ?

Obs. 2. It rather condueeth to his honour.

(1.) The honour of his goodness. It shews the comprehensiveness of his goodness, which embraceth in the arms of his providence the lowest worm as well as the highest angel. Shall infinite goodness frame a thing, and make no provision for its subsistence ? At the first creation he acknow- ledged whatever he had created good in his kind, good in themselves, good { n order to the end for which he created them ; it is therefore an honourable thing for his goodness to conduct them to that end which in their creation he designed them for ; and not leave them wild disorders, unsuitable to the end of that goodness which first called them into being. If he grow out of love with the operations of his hands, he would seem to grow out of love with his own goodness that formed them.

(2.) The honour of his power and wisdom. The power of God is as much seen in making an insect full of life and spirit in all the parts of it, to perform all the actions suitable to its life and nature, as in making creatures of a greater bulk ; and is it not for the honour of his power to preserve them, and the honour of his wisdom to direct these little animals to the end he intended in their creation ? For as little as they seem to be, an end they have, and glorious too, for natura nihil facit frustra. It seems not to consist with his wisdom to neglect that which he hath vouchsafed to create. And though the apostle seems to deny God's care of brutes, — 1 Cor. ix. 9, ' Doth God take care for oxen ?' — it is true God did not in that law only take care of oxen, i. e. with a legislative care, as making a law only for them, though with a providential care he doth ; but the apostle there doth not deny God's care for oxen, but makes an argument a minore ad majus.

2. Providence extends to all the actions and motions of the creature. Every second cause implies a dependence upon a first cause in its operation. If God did not extend his providence over the actions of creatures, he would not every where, and in all things and beings, be the first cause.

(1.) To natural actions. What an orderly motion is there in the natural actions of creatures, which evidenceth a guidance by an higher reason, since they have none of their own ! How do fish serve several coasts at several seasons, as if sent upon a particular message by God ? This cannot be by any other faculty than the instinct their Maker hath put into them. Plants that grow between a barren and fruitful soil, shoot all their roots towards the moist and fruitful ground, by what other cause than a secret direction of providential wisdom ?* There is a law impressed upon them and their motions, that are so orderly, as if they were acted according to a covenant * Andrew's Catechistical Doctrine, p. 60.

16 A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. [2 ChRON. XYI. 9.

and agreement between them and their Creator, and therefore called ■ the covenant of the day and night,' Jer. xxxiii. 20. What avails the toil and labour of man in ploughing, trading, watching, unless God influence, unless he bless, unless he keep the city ! The proceed of all things depends upon his goodness in blessing, and his power in preserving. God signified this, when he gave the law from mount Sinai, promising the people, that if they kept his commandments, he would give them rain in due season, and that the earth should bring forth her fruit : Lev. xxvi. 3, 4, ' Then will I give you rain, and the land shall yield her increase, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit ;' evidencing thereby, that those natural causes can pro- duce nothing without his blessing ; that though they have natural principles to produce such fruits according to their natures, yet he can put a stop to their operations, and make all their fruits abortive. He weighs the waters, how much shall be poured out in showers of rain upon the parched earth. He makes a decree for the rain, and gives the clouds commission to dissolve themselves so much and no more, Job xxviii. 23-26. Yea, he doth order the conduct of them by counsel, as employing his wisdom about these things which are of concern to the world. Job xxxvii. 11, 12, 'He scattereth his bright cloud, and it is turned round about by his counsels, that they may do whatsoever he commands them upon the face of the world in the earth.'

(2.) To civil actions. Counsels of men are ordered by him to other ends than what they aim at, and which their wisdom cannot discover. God stirred up Sennacherib to be the executioner of his justice upon the Jews, and afterwards upon the Egyptians, when that great king designed only the satisfaction of his ambition in the enlarging his kingdom, and supporting his greatness. Isa. x. 6, 7, ' I will send him against an hypocritical nation, and against the people of my wrath. Howbeit he means not so, neither doth h?s heart think so,' — he designs not to be an instrument of my justice, — 1 but it is in his heart to destroy and cut off nations not a few.' His thoughts and aims were far different from God's thoughts. The hearts of kings are in his hands, as wax in the hands of a man, which he can work into what form and shape he pleases. He hath the sovereignty over, and the ordering the hearts of magistrates ; Ps. xlvii. 9, ' The shields of the earth belong unto God.' Counsels of men for the good of his people are his act. The princes advised Jeremiah and Baruch, Jer. xxxvi. 19, to hide themselves, which they did, yet, verse 26, it is said the Lord hid them. Though they followed the advice of their court-friends, yet they could not have been secured, had not God stepped in by his providential care, and covered them with his hand. It was the courtiers' counsel, but God challenges the honour of the success.

Military actions aro ordered by him. Martial employments are ordered by his providence. He is the great general of armies. It is observed that in the two prophets, Isaiah and Jeremiah, God is called the Lord of Hosts no less than i hundred and thirty tunes.*

(!}.) To preternatural actions. God doth command creatures to do those

things which UTS DO WSV suitable to their inclinations, and gives them some- times fbf his own service a writ of case from the performance of the natural

liiw lie li;ith impressed anon then* A devonring raven is made by the pro-

viilence of God the prophets1 caterer in time of famine, I Kings xvii. 1. God instructs a ravenous hn.l in a lesson of abstinence for Elijah's safety, and

makes if both :i Book il,l(' :L ■srving man to the prophet. Tho whale, that

delights to play about the deepest pait Of khS ocean, approaches to the shore,

and attends upon Jonal to transport him to the dry land, Jonah ii. 10, * Arrowdinitli, ' Cluu-u of rrinoiplos,' Exorcit. i. sect 1.

2 ClIRON. XVI. 9.] A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 17

The fire was slacked by God, that it should not singe the least hair of the three children's heads, but was let loose to consume the officers of the court, Dan. iii. The mouths of the ravenous lions, which had been kept with an empty stomach, were muzzled by God, that they should not prey upon Daniel in a whole night's space. God taught them an heroical temper- ance with so dainty a dish at their mouths, and yet they tore the accusers in a trice.

(4.) To all supernatural and miraculous actions of the creatures, which are as so many new creations. As when the sun went backward in Hezekiah's time, when it stood still in the valley of Ajalon, that Joshua might com- plete his victory on the Canaanitcs. The boisterous waves stood on a heap like walls to secure the Israelites' passage ; but, returning to their natural motion, were the Egyptians' sepulchre. When creatures have stepped out of their natural course, it could not be the act of the creature, it being so much against and above their natures, but it must be by the order of some supe- rior power.

(5.) To all fortuitous actions. What is casual to us is ordained by God ; as effects stand related to the second cause, they are many times contingent, but as they stand related to the first cause, they are acts of his counsel, and directed by his wisdom. God never left second causes to straggle and ope- rate in a vagabond way ; though the effect seem to us to be a loose act of the creature, yet it is directed by a superior cause to a higher end than we can presently imagine. The whole disposing of the lot which is cast into the lap, is from the Lord, Prov. xvi. 33. A soldier shoots an arrow at random, and God guides it to be the executioner of Ahab for his sin, 1 Kings xxii. 34, which death was foretold by Micaiah, ver. 17, 28. God gives us a certain rule to judge of such contingencies, Exod. xxi. 13, ' And if a man lie not in wait, but God deliver him into his hand.' A man acci- dentally kills another, but it is done by a secret commission from God. God delivered him into his hands. Providence is the great clock, keeping time and order, not only hourly, but instantly, to its own honour.*

(6.) To all voluntary actions.

[1.] To good actions. Not by compelling, but sweetly inclining, deter- mining the will, so that it doth that willingly, which, by an unknown and unseen necessity, cannot be omitted. It constrains not a man to good against his will, but powerfully moves the will to do that by consent, which God hath determined shall be done : ' The way of man is not in himself,' the motion is man's, the action is man's, but the direction of his steps is from God. Jer. x. 23, ' It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps.'

[2.] To evil actions.

I First, In permitting them to be done. Idolatries and follies of the heathen were permitted by God. He checked them not in their course, but laid the reins upon their necks, and suffered them to run what race they i pleased : Acts xiv. 16, ' Who in times past suffered all nations to walk in their own ways.' Not the most execrable villany that ever was committed in the world could have been done without his permission. Sin is not amabile propter se, and therefore the permission of it is not desirable in itself, but the permission of it is only desirable, and honestatur ex Jive. God is good, and wise, and righteous in all his acts, so likewise in this act of per- mitting sin ; and therefore he wills it out of some good and righteous end, which belongs to the manifestation of his glory, which is that he intends in all the acts of his will, of which this is one. Wicked men are said to be a staff in God's hand ; as a man manages a staff which is in his own power, so * Fuller, Eccles. Hist. Cent. 6, book ii. p. 51. VOL. I. B

18 A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. [2 ChRON. XVI. 9.

doth God manage wicked men for bis own holy purposes, and they can go no further than God gives them license.

Secondly, In ordering them. God governs them by his own unsearchable wisdom and goodness, and directs them to the best and holiest ends, con- trary to the natures of the sins, and the intentions of the sinner. Joseph's brothers sold him to gratify their revenge, and God ordered it for their pre- servation in a time of famine. Pharaoh's hardness is ordered by God for his own glory and that king's destruction. God decrees the delivering up Christ to death; and Herod, Pilate, the Pharisees, and common rout of people, in satisfying their own passion, do but execute what God had before ordained : Acts iv. 28, ' For to do whatsoever thy hand and thy counsel determined before to be done.' Judas his covetousness, and the devil's malice, are ordered by God to execute his decree for the redemption of the world. Titus the emperor, his ambition led him to Jerusalem, but God's end is the fulfil- ling of his threatenings, and the taking revenge upon the Jews for their mur- dering of Christ. The aim of the physician is the patient's health, when the intent of the leeches is only to suck the blood. God hath holy ends in per- mitting sin, while man hath unworthy ends in committing it. The rain, which makes the earth fruitful, is exhaled out of the salt waters, which would of themselves spoil the ground and make it unfruitful. • The deceiver and the deceived are his,' Job xii. 1G. Both the action of the devil the seducer, and of wicked men the seduced, are restrained by God within due bounds, in subserviency to his righteous will. For ' with him is strength and wisdom.'

J'rop. 2. As providence is universal, so it is mysterious. Who can trace the motions of God's eyes in their race ? 'He makes the clouds his chariot,' Ps. civ. 3, in his motions about the earth, and his throne is in the dark. He walks upon the wings of the wind, his providential speed makes it too quick for our understanding. His ways are mysterious, and put the reason and wisdom of men to a stand. The clearest-sighted servants of God do not - the bottom of his works, the motion of God's eyes is too quick for ours.

John Baptist is so astonished at the strange condescension of his Saviour to be baptized of him, that he forbids it, Mat. iii. 14 ; man is a weak crea- ture, and cannot trace or set out the wisdom of God.

But this mystcriousness and darkness of providence adds a lustre to it, as stones set in ebony, though the grounds be dark, make the beauty and sparkling the clearer.

1. His way* arc above; human methods. Dark providences are often tlie groundwork of some excellent piece lie is about to discover to the world. His methoda an: like a plaited picture, which on the one aide represents a

negro, on the other a beauty. He lets Sarah's womb be dead, and then brings out the root of a numerous progeny, lie makes Jacob a cripple, and then a prince b> prevail with God ; be gives him a wound and then a bl( ing. lie Bendfl QOt the gospel till reason was oonplussed, and that the world, in that highest wisdom it had at that time attained unto, was not able to arrive to the knowledge of God. l Oor. i. 21, 'After that the world by wisdom Knew not God, it pleased God, by the foolishness of preaching,

them that believe.'

•J. J lis endfl are Of a higher strain than the aims of men. Who would have thought thai the forces Cyrus raised against Babylon, to satisfy his own ambition, should be a means to deliver the Israelites, and restore the worship of God in the temple ? Cod had this end, which Isaiah prophesied of, and

hi-, never dreamt, of: I -a. xliv. 28, ' That saith of Cyrus. Thou art my shepherd, and lhalt perform all my pleasure, even saying that Jerusalem

2 ClIRON. XVI. 9.1 A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 19

shall bo built,' &c. ; and this a long time before Cyrus was born, Isa, xlv. 1. Pharaoh sent Israel away in the very night, at the end of the four hundred and thirty years, the time prefixed by God. He could not keep them longer because of God's promise, he would not because of God's plagues. God aims at the glorifying his truth, in keeping touch with his word. Pharaoh designs not the accomplishing God's will, but his deliverance from God's judgments.

There is an observable consideration to this purpose, how God's ends are far different from man's, Luke ii. 1, 4, in the taxing the whole world by Augustus. Augustus, out of pride, to see what a numerous people he was prince of, would tax the whole world. Some tell us he had appointed the enrolling the whole empire twenty- seven years before the birth of our Saviour, and had proclaimed it at Tarracon, in Spain. But soon after this proclama- tion, Augustus found a breaking out of some stirs, and thereupon deferred his resolution to some other fit time, which was the very time of the birth of Christ. See now God's wise disposal of things, in changing Augustus's resolution, and deferring it till the forty-fourth year of his reign, when Christ was ready to come into the world ! And this by giving occasion, yea, neces- sitating Mary to come from Nazareth, where Joseph and Mary dwelt, who perhaps being big with child, without this necessity laid upon her by the emperor's edict, would not have ventured upon the journey to Bethlehem. There she falls in travail, that so Christ, the seed of David, being conceived in Nazareth, should be born at Bethlehem, where Jesse lived, and David was born. How wisely doth God order the ambition and pride of men to fulfil his own predictions, and to publish the truth of Christ's birth of the seed of David, for the names of Joseph and Mary were found in the records of Rome in Tertullian's time.

3. God hath several ends in the same action. Jacob is oppressed with famine, Pharaoh enriched with plenty, but Joseph's imprisonment is in order to his father's relief, and Pharaoh's wealth ; hissmistress's anger flings him into a prison. Joseph is wronged, and hath captivity for a reward of his chastity. God makes it a step to his advancement, and by this way brings him from a captive to be a favourite. What is God's end ? Not only to preserve the Egyptian nation, but old Jacob and his family. Was this all that God aimed at? No; he had a further design, and lays the foundation of something to be acted in the future age. By this means Jacob is brought into Egypt, leaves his posterity there, makes way for that glory in the work- ing of the future miracles for their deliverance, such an action that the world should continually ring of, and which should be a type of the spiritual deliverance by Christ.

4. God has more remote ends than short-sighted souls are able to espy. God doth not eye the present advantage of himself and his creature, but hath an eye to his own glory in all, yea, in the very last ages of the world. In small things there are often great designs laid by God, and mysteries in the least of his acts. Isaac was delivered from his father's sword, when he was intentionally dead, to set forth to the world a type of Christ's resurrection, and a ram is conducted thither by God, and entangled in the thickets, and appointed to sacrifice, whereby God sets forth a type of Christ's death.* He useth the captivities of the people, to enlarge the bounds of the gospel.

The wise men were guided by a star to Christ as King of the Jews, and come to pay homage to him in his infancy. When was the foundation of this remarkable event laid? Probably in Balaam's prophecy, Num. xxiv. 17. 1 1 shall see him, but not now ; I shall behold him, but not nigh. There

* Hall's Contemp. p. 796.

20 A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. [2 ChKON. XVI. 9.

shall come a star out of Jacob, and a sceptre shall rise out of Israel,' &c. transmitted by tradition to those wise men, and perhaps renewed by Sibilla Chaldcea, and confirmed in their minds by the Jews, whilst in the Babylonish captivity they conversed with them. Thus God many ages before in this prophecy had an end in promoting the readier entertainment of Christ among this people, when he should be born ; what the wise men's end was, the Scripture doth not acquaint us ; but, however, their gifts were a means to preserve our Saviour, Joseph, and Mary, from the rage of a tyrant, and affording them wherewithal to support them in Egypt, whither they were ordered by God to fly for security. So God, 2 Kings vii. 1, 2, 17, threatens by the prophet the nobleman for his scoffing unbelief, that though he should see the plenty, that he should not taste of it. See how God doth order second causes, naturally to bring about his own decree ! The king gives this person charge of the gate ; whilst the people crowd for provision to satisfy their hunger, they accomplish the threatening, which they had no in- tentions to do, and trod him to death. Now I come to shew that there is a providence.

Obs. 1. The wisdom of God would not be so perspicuous, were there not a providence in the world. It is eminent in the creation, but more illus- trious in the government of the creatures. A musician discovers more skill in the touching an instrument, and ordering the strings, to sound what notes he pleaseth, than he doth in the first framing and making of it. Isa. xxviii. 29, ' This also comes from the Lord of hosts, which is wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working.' All God's providences are but his touch of the strings of this great instrument of the world. And all his works are excellent, because they are the fruit of his wonderful counsel, and unsearch- able wisdom, which is most seen in his providence, as in reading the verses before. His power is glorified in creating and upholding this fabric. How shall his wisdom be glorified but in his government of it? Surely God will be no less intent upon the honour of his wisdom than upon that of his power. For if any attribute may be said to excel another, it is his wisdom and holiness, because those are perfections which God hath stamped upon the nobler part of his creation. Inferior creatures have more power and strength than man, but wisdom is the perfection of a rational creature. Now it is God's wisdom to direct all things to their proper end, as well as to appoint them their ends, which direction must be by a particular providence, especially in those things which know not their end, and have no reason to guide them. We know in the world it is not a part of wisdom to leave things to chance, but to state our ends, and lay a platform of those means which direct to an attaining of them. And wisdom is most Been in drawing all things together, and making them subservient to the end lie hath fixed to him-, ell'; ;ind, therefore, ono of the great things that shall he admired at last,, next, to the great work of redemption, will he the harmony and consent of those things which seemed contrary, how they did all conspire for tho bringing about, that, end which (iod aimed ai.

Obi. 2. The means wherehy (Iod acts discover a providence. lie acts, 1. By small means. The considerable actions in the world have usually very small beginnings. As of a tew letters how many thousand words aro made! often figures, how many thousand niimhers ! And a point is tho

beginning of all geometry. A little stone (rang into a pond makes a little

circle, then a greater, till it, enlargeth itself to both the sides. So from

small beginnings, God doth cause an efflns through the whole world. (I.) lie u-eth small meazui in his ordinary works. The common works

of nature spring from small beginnings. (1 resit plants are formed from small

2 ClIRON. XVI. 9.] A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 21

seeds. The clouds which water the great garden of the world are but a collection of vapours. The noblest operations of the soul are wrought in an organ, viz. the brain, composed of .coagulated phlegm. Who would imagine that Saul, in seeking his father's asses, should find a kingdom ?

(2.) In his extraordinary works he useth small means. Elisha, that waited upon Elijah, and poured water upon his hands, shall do greater miracles than his master. And the apostles shall do greater works than Christ, John xiv. 12, that the world may know that God is not tied to any means that men count excellent; that all creatures are his, and act not of themselves, but by his spirit and power.

In his extraordinary works of justice. He makes a rod in the hands of Moses to confound the skill of the Egyptian magicians. He commissioned frogs and flies to countercheck a powerful and mighty people. When Benhadad was so proud as to say, the dust of Samaria should not suffice for handfuls for his army, God scattered his army by the lacqueys of the princes, — 1 Kings xx. 14, ' The young men of the princes of the pro- vinces,'— about two hundred thirty-two, ver. 15. The little sling in the hand of David a youth, guided by God's eye and hand, is a match fit enough for a blasphemous giant, and defeats the strength of a weaver's beam.

In his extraordinary works of mercy.

[1.] In the deliverance of a people or person. A dream was the occasion of Joseph's greatness and Joseph's preservation. He used the cacklings of geese to save the Koman Capitol from a surprise by the Gauls. He picks out Gideon to be a general, who was least in his father's esteem, Judges vi. 15 ; and what did his army consist of, but few, and those fearful, Judges vii. 6, 7 ; those that took water with their hands (which, as Josephus saith, is a natural sign of fear) did God choose out to overthrow the Midianites, who had overspread the land as grasshoppers, to shew that he can make the most fearful men to be sufficient instruments against the greatest powers, when the concernments of his church and people lie at stake.

God so delights in thus baffiing the pride of men, that Asa uses it as an argument to move God to deliver him in the strait he was in, when Zerah the Ethiopian came against him with a great multitude, when he was but a small point and centre in the midst of a wide circumference : 2 Chron. xiv. 11, * Lord, it is nothing with thee to help with many or with few.' Hereby God sets off his own power, and evidenceth his superintendent care of his people. It was more signally the arm of God for Moses to confound Pharaoh with his lice and frogs, than if he had beaten him in a plain field with his six hundred thousand Israelites.

[2.] In the salvation of the soul. Our Saviour himself, though God, the great redeemer of the world, was so mean in the eyes. of the world, that he calls himself ' a worm, and no man,' Ps. xxii. 6. He picks out many times the most unlikely persons to accomplish the greatest purposes for men's souls. He lodgeth the treasures of wisdom in vessels of earth ; he chose not the cedars of Lebanon, but the shrubs of the valley ; not the learned Pharisees of Jerusalem, but the poor men of Galilee : ' Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings, he ordains praise to himself.'

The apostles' breeding was not capable of ennobling their minds, and fitting them for such great actions as Christ employed them in. But after he had new moulded and inflamed their spirits, he made them of fishermen, greater conquerors of the world, than the most magnified grandees could pretend to.

Thus salvation is wrought by a crucified Christ : and that God who made the world by wisdom, would save it by the foolishness of preaching. And

22 A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. [2 ChRON. XVI. 9.

make Paul, the least of the apostles as he terms himself, more successful than those who had been instructed at the feet of Christ, 1 Cor. xv. 9, 10.

2. By contrary means. God by his, providence makes contrary things contribute to his glory, as contrary colours in a picture do to the beauty of the piece. Nature is God's instrument to do whatsoever he pleases ; and therefore nothing so contrary but he may bring to his own ends ; as in some engines you shall see wheels have contrary motions, and yet all in order to one and the same end. God cured those by a brazen serpent, which were stung by the fiery ones ; whereas brass is naturally hurtful to those that are bit by serpents.*

(1.) Afflictions. Joseph is sold for a slave, and God sends him as a har- binger ; his brothers sold him to destroy him, and God sends him to save them. Paul's bonds, in the opinion of some, might have stifled the gospel ; but he tells us that they had fallen out to the furtherance of the gospel, Phil. i. 12.

(2.) Sins.f God doth often effect his just will by our weakness ; neither there by justifying our infirmities, nor blemishing his own action. Jacob gets the blessing by unlawful means, telling no less than two lies to attain it, — I am Esau, and this is venison, — but hereby God brings about the per- formance of his promise, which Isaac's natural affection to Esau would have hindered Jacob of.

The breach of the first covenant was an occasion of introducing a better. Man's sinning away his first stock, was an occasion to_ God to enrich him with a surer. The loss of his original righteousness made way for a clearer and more durable. The folly of man made way for the evidence of God's wisdom, and the sin of man for the manifestation of his grace ; and by the wise disposal of God, opens a way for the honour of those attributes which would not else have been experimentally known by the sons of men.

3. Casual means. The viper which leapt upon Paul's hand out of the bundle of sticks was a casual act, but designed by the providence of God for the propagation of the gospel. Pharaoh's daughter comes casually to wash herself in the river, but, indeed, conducted by the secret influence of God upon her, to rescue Moses, exposed to a forlorn condition, and breed him up in the Egyptian learning, that he might be the titter to be his kindred's deli- verer. Saul had been hunting David, and at last had lodged him in a placo whence he could not well escape, and being ready to seize upon him in that very instant of time, a post comes to Saul, and brings the news that the Philistines had invaded tho land, which cut out other work tor him, ami David for that time escapes, 1 Sam. xxiii. 2ti, fc27, 28.

Prop, 8. Reason. Bach actions and events <>t' things are in the world,

which cannot rationally he ascrihed to any other cause than a supreme pro- vidence. It is so in common things. Men have the same parts, the Bams

outward advantages, the same industry, and \ef prosper not alike. One lahours much, and L'ets little ; another uses not altogether such endeavours, and hath rich.s flowing in upon him. Men lay their projects deep, and question n«'l the accomplishment of them, ami are disappointed by some strange and Unforeseen accident. An. I sometimes men attain what they desire in a dif- ferent way, and many times contrary to the method they had projected.

This is evidenced,

1. By the restraints upon t he pa' ions of men. The waves of the sea, and the tumults of the people art; much of the same impetuous natures, and

are quelled l>y the same power : IN. lw. 7, 'Which stilleth the noise of

* Ornlin-i, Num. \\i. 0. . /.'.t rutfnralit, r lmrrl roft OyNo/^xrO/;.

f Hall, Oontemp. boos hi. p. mm;, 807,

2 ClIRON. XVI. 9.] A DISCOURSE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 23

the sea, and tumult of the people.' Tumults of the people could no more be stilled by the force of a man, than the waves of the sea by a puff of breath. How strangely did God qualify the hearts of the Egyptians will- ingly to submit to the sale of their land, when they might have risen in a tumult, broke open the granaries, and supplied their wants, Gen. xlvii. 19, 21. Indeed, if the world were left to the conduct of chance and fortune, what work would the savage lusts and passions of men make among us ! How is it possible that any but an almighty power can temper so many jarring principles, and rank so many quarrelsome and turbulent spirits in a due order ! If those brutish passions which boil in the hearts of men were let loose by that infinite power that bridles them, how soon would the world be run headlong into inconceivable confusions, and be rent in pieces by its own disorders ?

2. By the sudden changes which are made upon the spirits of men for the preservation of others. God takes off the spirit of