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But what then? Is it not as certain from the text, that God sometimes accepts the will, as it is from those forementioned Scriptures, that God commands the deed? Yes, no doubt; since it is impossible for the Holy Ghost to contradict that in one place of Scripture, which he had affirmed in another. In all the foregoing places, doing is expressly commanded, and no happiness allowed to any thing short of it; and yet here God is said to accept of the will; and can both these stand together without manifest contradiction? That which enjoins the deed is certainly God's law; and it is also as certain, that the Scripture that allows of the will is neither the abrogation, nor derogation, nor dispensation, nor relaxation of that law.

In order to the clearing of which, I shall lay down these two assertions,

(1.) That every law of God commands the obedience of the whole inan.

(2.) That the will is never accepted by God, but as it is the obedience of the whole

man.

So that the allowance or acceptance of the will, mentioned in the text, takes off nothing from the obligation of those laws, in which the deed is so plainly and positively enjoined; but is only an interpretation or declaration of the true sense of those laws, shewing the equity of them; which is as really essential to every law, and gives it its obliging force as much as the justice of it; and, indeed, is not another, or a distinct thing from the justice of it, any more than a particular case is from an universal rule.

But you will say, how can the obedience of the will ever be proved to be the obedience of the whole man?

For answer to which, we are first to consider every man as a moral, and consequently as a rational, agent; and then to cousider, what is the office and influence of the will in every moral action. Now, the morality of an action is founded in the freedom of that principle, by virtue of which, it is in the agent's power, having all things ready and requisite to the performance of an action, either to perform or not to perform it. And as the will is endued with this freedom, so is it also endued with a power to command all the other faculties, both of soul and body, to execute what it has so willed or decreed, and that without resistance; so that upon the last dictate of the will for the doing of such or such a thing, all the other faculties proceed immediately to act according to their respective offices. By which it is manifest, that in point of action, the will is virtually the whole man; as containing in it all that which, by virtue of his other faculties, he is able to do; just as the spring of a watch is virtually the whole motion of the watch; forasmuch as it imparts a motion to all the wheels of it.

Thus as to the soul. If the will bids the understanding think, study, and consider; it will accordingly apply itself to thought, study, and consideration. If it bids the affections love, rejoice, or be angry; an act of love, joy, or anger will follow. And then for the body; if the will bids the leg go, it goes; if it bids the hand do this, it does it. So that a man is a moral agent only as he is endued with, and acts by, a free and commanding principle of will.

And therefore, when God says, "My son, give me thy heart," (which there signifies the will,) it is as much as if he had commanded the service of the whole man; for whatsoever the will commands, the whole man must do: the empire or dominion of the will over all the faculties of soul and body (as to most of the operations of each of them) being absolutely overruling and despotical. From whence it follows, that when the will has exerted an act of command upon any faculty of the soul, or member of the body, it has, by so doing, done all that the whole man, as a moral agent, can do, for the actual exercise or employment of such a faculty or member. And if so, then what is not done in such a case, is certainly not in a man's power to do; and, consequently, is no part of the obedience required of him; no man being commanded or obliged to obey beyond his power. And therefore, the obedience of the will to God's commands, is the obedience of the whole man, (forasmuch as it includes and infers it,) which was the assertion that we undertook to prove.

But you will say, if the prerogative of the will be such, that where it commands the hand to give an alms, the leg to kneel, or to go to church, or the tongue to utter a prayer, all these things will infallibly be done; suppose we now, a man be bound hand and foot by some outward violence, or be laid up with the gout, or disabled for any of these functions by a palsy; can the will, by its command, make a man in such a condition utter a prayer, or kneel, or go to church? No, it is manifest it cannot; but then you are to know also, that neither is vocal prayer, or bodily kneeling, or going to church, in such a case, any part of the obedience required of such a person; but that act of his will hitherto spoken of, that would have put his body upon all these actions, had there been no impediment, is that man's whole obedience; and for that very cause that it is so, and for no other, it stands here accepted by God.

From all which discourse, this must naturally and directly be inferred, as a certain truth, and the chief foundation of all that can be said on this subject; namely, that whosoever wills the doing of a thing, if the doing of it be in his power, he will certainly do it; and whosoever does not do that thing, which

he has in his power to do, does not really and properly will it. For though the act of the will commanding, and the act of any other faculty of the soul or body executing that which is so commanded, be physically, and in the precise nature of things, distinct and several; yet morally, as they proceed in subordination, from one entire, free, moral agent, both in divinity and morality, they pass but for one and the same action.

Now, that from the foregoing particulars we may come to understand how far this rule of God's accepting the will for the deed holds good in the sense of the apostle, we must consider it in these three things,—

1. The original ground and reason of it. 2. The just measure and bounds of it; and, 3. The abuse or misapplication of it.

And first for the original ground and reason of this rule; it is founded upon that great, self-evident, and eternal truth, that the just, the wise, and good God neither does nor can require of man any thing that is impossible, or naturally beyond his power to do; and therefore, in the second place, the measure of this rule, by which the just extent and bounds of it are to be determined, must be that power or ability that man naturally has to do, or perform the things willed by him. So that wheresoever such a power is found, there this rule of God's accepting the will has no place; and wheresoever such a power is not found, there this rule presently becomes in force. And accordingly, in the third and last place, the abuse or misapplication of this rule will consist in these two things,

1. That men do very often take that to be an act of the will, that really and truly is not so.

2. That they reckon many things impossible that indeed are not impossible.

And first, to begin with men's mistakes about the will, and the acts of it; I shall note these three, by which men are extremely apt to impose upon themselves,

(1.) As, first, the bare approbation of the worth and goodness of a thing, is not properly the willing of that thing; and yet men do very commonly account it so. But this is properly an act of the understanding or judgment, a faculty wholly distinct from the will, and which makes a principal part of that which in divinity we call natural conscience, and in the strength of which a man may approve of things good and excellent, without ever willing or intending the practice of them. And accordingly, the apostle, (Rom. ii. 18,) gives us an account of some who approved of things excellent, and yet practised, and consequently willed, things clean contrary; since no man can commit a sin, but he must will it first. Whosoever observes and looks into the workings of his own heart, will find that noted sentence,

"Video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor," too frequently and fatally verified upon himself. The seventh of the Romans (which has been made the unhappy scene of so much controversy about these matters) has several passages to this purpose. In a word, to judge what ought to be done is one thing, and to will the doing of it is quite another.

No doubt, virtue is a beautiful and a glorious thing in the eyes of the most vicious person breathing; and all that he does or can hate in it, is the difficulty of its practice; for it is practice alone that divides the world into virtuous and vicious; but otherwise, as to the theory and speculation of virtue and vice, honest and dishonest, the generality of mankind are much the same; for men do not approve of virtue by choice and free election ; but it is an homage which nature commands all understandings to pay to it, by necessary determination; and yet, after all, it is but a faint, inactive thing; for in defiance of the judgment, the will may still remain as perverse, and as much a stranger to virtue, as it was before. In fine, there is as much difference between the approbation of the judgment, and the actual volitions of the will, with relation to the same object, as there is between a man's viewing a desirable thing with his eye, and his reaching after it with his hand.

(2.) The wishing of a thing is not properly the willing of it, though too often mistaken by men for such; but it is that which is called by the schools an imperfect velleity, and imports no more than an idle inoperative complacency in, and desire of the end, without any consideration of, nay, for the most part, with a direct abhorrence of the means of which nature I account that wish of Balaam, (Numbers, xxiii. 10,) "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his."

The thing itself appeared desirable to him, and accordingly he could not but like and desire it; but then it was after a very irrational, absurd way, and contrary to all the methods and principles of a rational agent; which never wills a thing really and properly, but it applies to the means by which it is to be acquired. But at that very time that Balaam desired to "die the death of the righteous," he was actually following the wages of unrighteousness, and so thereby engaged in a course quite contrary to what he desired; and consequently such as could not possibly bring him to such an end. Much like the sot that cried, "Utinam hoc esset laborare," while he lay lazing and lolling upon his couch.

But every true act of volition imports a respect to the end, by and through the means; and wills a thing only in that way in which it is to be compassed or effected; which is the foundation of that most true aphorism, That

he who wills the end, wills also the means. The truth of which is founded in such a necessary connection of the terms, that I look upon the proposition, not only as true, but as convertible; and that, as a man cannot truly and properly will the end, but he must also will the means; so neither can he will the means, but he must virtually, and by interpretation at least, will the end. Which is so true, that in the account of the divine law, a man is reckoned to will even those things that naturally are not the object of desire; such as death itself, (Ezek. xviii. 31,) only because he wills those ways and courses, that naturally tend to and end in it. And even our own common law looks upon a man's raising arms against, or imprisoning his prince, as an imagining or compassing of his death; forasmuch as these actions are the means directly leading to it, and, for the most part, actually concluding in it; and consequently, that the willing of the one is the willing of the other also.

To will a thing, therefore, is certainly much another thing from what the generality of men, especially in their spiritual concerns, take it to be. I say, in their spiritual concerns; for in their temporal, it is manifest that they think and judge much otherwise; and in the things of this world, no man is allowed or believed to will any thing heartily, which he does not endeavour after proportionably. A wish is properly a man of desire, sitting, or lying still; but an act of the will, is a man of business vigorously going about his work; and certainly there is a great deal of difference between a man's stretching out his arms to work, and his stretching them out to yawn.

(3.) And lastly, a mere inclination to a thing is not properly a willing of that thing; and yet in matters of duty, no doubt, men frequently reckon it for such. For otherwise, why should they so often plead and rest in the goodness of their hearts, and the honest and well inclined disposition of their minds, when they are justly charged with an actual non-performance of what the law requires of

them?

But that an inclination to a thing is not a willing of that thing, is irrefragably proved by this one argument, that a man may act virtuously against his inclination, but not against his will. He may be inclined to one thing, and yet will another; and, therefore, inclination and will are not the same.

For a man may be naturally inclined to pride, lust, anger, and strongly inclined so too, (forasmuch as these inclinations are founded in a peculiar crasis and constitution of the blood and spirits,) and yet by a steady, frequent repetition of the contrary acts of humility, and chastity, and meekness, carried thereto by his will, (a principle not to be controlled

by the blood or spirits,) he may at length plant in his soul all those contrary habits of virtue and therefore it is certain, that while inclination bends the soul one way, a welldisposed and resolved will may effectually draw it another. A sufficient demonstration, doubtless, that they are two very different things; for where there may be a contrariety, there is certainly a diversity. A good inclination is but the first rude draught of virtue ; but the finishing strokes are from the will; which, if well disposed, will by degrees perfect; if ill disposed, will, by the superinduction of ill habits, quickly deface it.

God never accepts a good inclination, instead of a good action, where that action may be done; nay, so much the contrary, that if a good inclination be not seconded by a good action, the want of that action is thereby made so much the more criminal and inexcusable.

A man may be naturally well and virtuously inclined, and yet never do one good or virtuous action all his life. A bowl may lie still for all its bias; but it is impossible for a man to will virtue and virtuous actions heartily, but he must in the same degree offer at the practice of them: forasmuch as the dictates of the will are (as we have shewn) despotical, and command the whole man. being a contradiction in morality, for the will to go one way, and the man another.

It

And thus as to the first abuse or misapplication of the great rule mentioned in the text, about God's accepting the will, I have shewn three notable mistakes, which men are apt to entertain concerning the will; and proved that neither a bare approbation of, nor a mere wishing, or inactive complacency in, nor, lastly, a natural inclination to, things virtuous and good, can pass before God for a man's willing of such things; and consequently, if men upon this account will needs take up and acquiesce in an airy, ungrounded persuasion, that they will those things which really they do not will, they fall thereby into a gross and fatal delusion: a delusion that must and will shut the door of salvation against them, They catch at heaven, but embrace a cloud; they mock God, who will not be mocked; and deceive their own souls, which, God knows, may too easily be both deceived and destroyed

too.

2. Come we now, in the next place, to consider the other way, by which men are prone to abuse and pervert this important rule of God's accounting the will for the deed; and that is, by reckoning many things impossible, which in truth are not impossible.

And this I shall make appear, by shewing some of the principal instances of duty, for the performance of which men commonly plead want of power; and thereupon persuade themselves, that God and the law rest satisfied with their will.

GOOD INTENTIONS NO EXCUSE FOR BAD ACTIONS.

Now these instances are four.

(1.) In duties of very great and hard labour. Labour is confessedly a great part of the curse; and therefore, no wonder if men fly from it; which they do with so great an aversion, that few men know their own strength for want of trying it: and, upon that account, think themselves really unable to do many things, which experience would convince them, they have more ability to effect, than they have will to attempt.

It is idleness that creates impossibilities; and, where men care not to do a thing, they shelter themselves under a persuasion, that it cannot be done. The shortest and the surest way to prove a work possible, is strenuously to set about it; and no wonder, if that proves it possible, that, for the most part, makes it

So.

Dig," says the unjust steward, "I cannot." But why? Did either his legs or his arms fail him? No; but day-labour was but a hard and a dry kind of livelihood to a man that could get an estate with two or three strokes of his pen; and find so great a treasure as he did, without digging for it.

But such excuses will not pass muster with God, who will allow no man's humour or idleness to be the measure of possible or impossible.

And to manifest the wretched hypocrisy of such pretences, those very things, which upon the bare obligation of duty are declined by men as impossible, presently become not only possible, but really practicable too, in a case of extreme necessity. As no doubt that forementioned instance of fraud and laziness, the unjust steward, who pleaded that he could neither dig nor beg, would quickly have been brought both to dig and to beg too, rather than starve. And if so, what reason could such an one produce before God, why he could not submit to the same hardships, rather than cheat and lie? The former being but destructive of the body, this latter of the soul: and certainly the highest and dearest concerns of a temporal life are infinitely less valuable than those of an eternal; and consequently ought, without any demur at all, to be sacrificed to them, whensoever they come in competition with them. He who can digest any labour, rather than die, must refuse no labour, rather than

sin.

(2.) The second instance shall be in duties of great and apparent danger. Danger (as the world goes) generally absolves from duty; this being a case in which most men, according to a very ill sense, will needs be a law to themselves. And where it is not safe for them to be religious, their religion shall be to be safe. But Christianity teaches us a very different lesson: for if fear of suffering could take off the necessity of obeying, the doctrine of the cross would certainly be a very idle and

VOL. I.

31

a senseless thing; and Christ would never
this cup pass from me," had the bitterness of
have prayed, "Father, if it be possible, let
the draught made it impossible to be drunk
cannot be endured, no man could ever be
of. If death and danger are things that really
obliged to suffer for his conscience, or to die
to imagine a man obliged to suffer, as to do
for his religion; it being altogether as absurd,
impossibilities.

But those primitive heroes of the Christian
church could not so easily blow off the doc-
of being passive a discharge from being obe-
trine of passive obedience, as to make the fear
dient. No, they found martyrdom not only
possible, but in many cases a duty also; a
And such a
duty dressed up indeed with all that was ter-
all the less a duty for being so.
rible and afflictive to human nature, yet not
souls, that every martyr could keep one eye
height of Christianity possessed those noble
and danger out of countenance with the other;
steadily fixed upon his duty, and look death
nor did they flinch from duty for fear of mar-
motives to duty was their desire of it.
tyrdom, when one of the most quickening

But to prove the possibility of a thing,
there is no argument like to that which looks
backwards; for what has been done or suffered,
may certainly be done or suffered again. And
needs no other demonstration, than to shew
Besides that the
to prove that men may be martyrs, there
that many have been so.
grace of God has not so far abandoned the
Christian world, but that those high primitive
instances of passive fortitude in the case of
duty and danger rivalling one another, have
been exemplified and (as it were) revived by
several glorious copies of them in the succeed-
ing ages of the church.

And (thanks be to God) we need not look very far backward for some of them, even torious faction and rebellion had overrun all, amongst ourselves. For when a violent, vicand made loyalty to the king and conformity to the church crimes unpardonable, and of a guilt not to be expiated, but at the price of life or estate; when men were put to swear a very poor one in this; (for they had then away all interest in the next world, to secure oaths to murder souls, as well as sword and tion ran so high, that that execrable monster pistol for the body ;) nay, when the persecuCromwell made and published that barbarous, the poor suffering episcopal clergy, That they heathenish, or rather inhuman edict against should neither preach nor pray in public, nor no, nor so much as live in any gentleman's baptize, nor marry, nor bury, nor teach school, house, who in mere charity and compassion might be inclined to take them in from perishing in the streets; that is, in other words, being turned out of their churches, take possesthat they must starve and die ex officio, and

F

sion only of the churchyard, as so many victims to the remorseless rage of a foul, ill-bred tyrant, professing piety without so much as common humanity; I say, when rage and persecution, cruelty and Cromwellism were at that diabolical pitch, tyrannizing over every thing that looked like loyalty, conscience, and conformity; so that he, who took not their engagement, could not take any thing else, though it were given him; being thereby debarred from the very common benefit of the law, in suing for or recovering of his right in any of their courts of justice, (all of them still following the motion of the high one ;) yet even then, and under that black and dismal state of things, there were many thousands who never bowed the knee to Baal-Cromwell, Baal-covenant, or Baal-engagement; but with a steady, fixed, unshaken resolution, and in a glorious imitation of those heroic Christians in the tenth and eleventh chapters of the Epistle to the Hebrews, "endured a great fight of afflictions, were made a gazing-stock by reproaches, took joyfully the spoiling of their goods, had trial of cruel mockings; moreover of bonds and imprisonments; sometimes were tempted, sometimes were slain with the sword, wandered about in hunger and nakedness, being destitute, afflicted, tormented." All which sufferings surely ought to entitle them to that concluding character in the next words, "of whom the world was not worthy." And I wish I could say of England, that it were worthy of those men now. For I look upon the old Church of England royalists (which I take to be only another name for a man who prefers his conscience before his interest) to be the best Christians and the most meritorious subjects in the world; as having passed all those terrible tests and trials, which conquering, domineering malice could put them to, and carried their credit and their conscience clear and triumphant through, and above them all, constantly firm and immovable, by all that they felt either from their professed enemies or their false friends. And what these men did and suffered, others might have done and suffered too.

But they, good men, had another and more artificial sort of conscience, and a way to interpret off a command, where they found it dangerous or unprofitable to do it.

"God knows my heart," says one, "I love the king cordially;" "and I wish well to the church," says another, "but you see the state of things is altered; and we cannot do what we would do. Our will is good, and the king gracious, and we hope he will accept of this, and dispense with the rest." A goodly present, doubtless, as they meant it; and such as they might freely give, and yet part with nothing; and the king, on the other hand, receive, and gain just as much.

But now, had the whole nation mocked God and their king at this shuffling, hypocritical rate, what an odious, infamous people must that rebellion have represented the English to all posterity? Where had been the honour of the reformed religion, that could not afford a man Christian enough to suffer for his God and his prince? But the old royalists did both, and thereby demonstrated to the world, that no danger could make duty impossible.

And, upon my conscience, if we may assign any other reason or motive of the late mercies of God to these poor kingdoms, besides his own proneness to shew mercy, it was for the sake of the old, suffering cavaliers, and for the sake of none else whatsoever, that God delivered us from the two late accursed conspiracies. For they were the brats and offspring of two contrary factions, both of them equally mortal and inveterate enemies of our church; which they have been, and still are, perpetually pecking and striking at, with the same malice, though with different methods.

In a word: the old tried Church of England royalists were the men, who, in the darkest and foulest day of persecution that ever befell England, never pleaded the will in excuse of the deed, but proved the integrity and loyalty of their wills, both by their deeds and their sufferings too.

But, on the contrary, when duty and danger stand confronting one another, and when the law of God says, Obey and assist your king; and the faction says, Do if you dare: for men, in such a case, to think to divide themselves, and to pretend that their will obeys that law, while all beside their will obeys and serves the faction; what is this but a gross fulsome juggling with their duty, and a kind of trimming it between God and the

devil?

These things I thought fit to remark to you, not out of any intemperate humour of reflecting upon the late times of confusion, (as the guilt or spite of some may suggest,) but because I am satisfied in my heart and conscience, that it is vastly the concern of his majesty, and of the peace of his government, both in church and state, that the youth of the nation (of which such auditories as this chiefly consist) should be principled and possessed with a full, fixed, and thorough persuasion of the justness and goodness of the blessed old king's cause; and of the excellent piety and Christiauity of those principles, upon which the loyal part of the nation adhered to him, and that against the most horrid and inexcusable rebellion that was ever set on foot, and acted upon the stage of the world; of all which, whosoever is not persuaded, is a rebel in his heart, and deserves not the protection which he enjoys.

And the rather do I think such remarks as

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