that are equivalent to sufferings which properly belong to the latter; which equivalence of sufferings must be determined by a joint estimation of these two things, viz. the degree of suffering and the greatness of the sufferer. When the effect of the patron's love to the client is a suffering for the client that is equal in value or weight to the client's suffering, considering the difference of the degree of persons; it shows, that the love to the client, which is the cause of this suffering, is also equal or equivalent to his love for himself, according to the different degree of the persons.

The most proper and clear trial of the measure of love or regard to the interest of another, is the measure of suffering, or expense of personal interest, for the interest of the beloved. So much as the lover regards the welfare of the beloved, so much in value or weight of his own welfare, will he be willing to part with for it. If the value of the welfare obtained, be, in the regard of the sufferer, fully equal to the value of the welfare parted with, then, there being an equal balance, no preponderation of self-love will hinder parting with one for the other. The love therefore is sufficient and equal to self-love, allowing only for the difference of capacity or greatness of the persons; as the sufferings are equal, allowing for the same difference of the degree of persons.

§ 29. There can be but one thing more requisite, according to the nature of things, in order to its being to all intents and purposes proper and suitable that the patron should be accepted as one with the client, in what pertains to the client's interest, and his merits being imputed to the client, and his having favour on the account of it; which is this, that seeing the client is an intelligent being, capable of act and choice, he should therefore actively and cordially concur in the affair; that the union between the patron and him should be mutual that as the patron's heart is united to the client, so the client's heart should be united to the patron; that as there is that disposition and those acts appearing in the patron that are proper to the character and relation of a patron, in undertaking for the client to appear for him before his friend, as his representative, guardian, deliverer, and saviour, and condescending to him to do and suffer all for him needed for his help and advancement; so there must also appear in the client those dispositions and acts that are proper to the character and relation of a client, cleaving to him, committing his cause to him, and trusting in him, in an entire approbation of the patron's friendship, kind undertaking, and patronage; and not only an approbation of the patron's union to him, by which he avails for his being looked upon as one with him, but also of the patron's union to his friend, whose favour he seeks, which union with his friend avails to the acceptance of the patron ; and

also an entire approbation of the benefits which the patron seeks of his friend for the client; or, in one word, a cordial and entire faith of the client in his patron. When there is thus a mutual union between the patron and client, and an union throughout between them both, and the friend whose favour is sought, together with those things before mentioned, there is every thing requisite in order to the fitness of the acceptance of the client on the account of the patron, and his receiving such favour from the patron's friend, as is requisite to all that pertains to the client's welfare: so that such an acceptance and such favour shall be in all respects proper, according to the nature of things, and common sense of intelligent beings, and of no evil or improper consequence.

§ 30. It was needful, that a mediator between two parties distant and alienated one from the other, in order to be the middle person to unite them together, should himself be united to both. Otherwise he could not be a bond of union between them. And if he be a mediator between God and guilty men, it was necessary that he should unite himself to them, or assume them as it were to himself. But if he unites himself to guilty creatures, he of necessity brings their guilt on himself. If he unites himself to them that are in debt he brings their debt on himself. He cannot properly unite himself to a rebel against God, and one that is obnoxious to God's wrath, and is condemned to condign punishment, to be a mediator to bring God to be at peace with him, without voluntarily taking his sufferings on himself; because otherwise his undertaking for, and uniting himself to such an one, will appear like countenancing his offence and rebellion. But if at the same time that he unites himself to him, he takes it upon himself to bear his penalty, it quite takes off all such appearance. He shows that though he loves the rebel that has affronted the divine majesty, yet he at the same time has the greatest possible abhorrence of the injury to God's majesty, and dishonour to his name, in that he regards the honour of God's majesty so much as to be willing to endure so extreme sufferings, that the divine glory and majesty may not be injured, but fully maintained.

31. Christ suffered the wrath of God for men's sins in such a way as he was capable of, being an infinitely holy person, who knew that God was not angry with him personally, but infinitely loved him. The wicked in hell will suffer the wrath of God, as they will have the sense and knowledge, and sight of God's infinite displeasure towards them, and hatred of them. But this was impossible in Jesus Christ. Christ therefore could bear the wrath of God in no other but these two ways, viz. in having a great and clear sight of the infinite wrath of God against the sins of men, and the punishment they deserved; and in enduring the effects of that wrath. This it was most

fit that he should have, at the time when he was suffering i their stead, and paying their ransom to deliver them from that wrath and punishment. That he might know what he did, that he might act with full understanding at the time when he made expiation and paid a ransom for sinners to redeem them from hell; it was requisite that he should have a clear sight of the dreadful evil and odiousness of sin, and of the dreadfulness of the punishment from which he suffered to deliver them, otherwise he would not know how great a benefit he vouchsafed them in redeeming them from this punishment. Christ doubtless actually had a clear view of both those things in the time of his last suffering. Every thing in the circumstances of his last suffering concurred to give him a great and full sight of the hateful nature of the sin of man. For its odiousness and malignant nature never appeared so much in its own proper colours, as it did in that act of murdering the Son of God, and in exercising such contempt and cruelty towards him. Likewise, every thing in the circumstances of his last sufferings tended to give him a striking view of the dreadful punishment of sin. The sight of the evil of sin tended to this, and so did the enduring of temporal death, especially under such circumstances, and such extreme pain, God hiding his face, his dying a death that by God's appointment was an accursed death, having a sight of the malice and triumph of devils, and being forsaken of his friends, &c. As God ordered external circumstances to help forward this purpose; so there is all reason to think, that his own influences of Christ's mind were agreeable hereto, his spirit acting with his providence to give him a full view of those things. Now, the clear view of each of these must of necessity be inexpressibly terrible to the man Christ Jesus. His having so clear an actual view of sin and its hatefulness, was an idea infinitely disagreeable to the holy nature of Christ; and therefore, unless balanced with an equal sight of good that comes by this evil, must have been an immensely disagreeable sensation in Christ's soul, or, which is the same thing, immense suffering. But that equally clear idea of good to counterbalance the evil of sin, was not given at that time; because God forsook Christ, and hid himself from him, and withheld comfortable influences, or the clear ideas of pleasant objects. Thus, Christ bare our sins; God laid on him the iniquities of us all, and he bare the burden of them; and so, his bearing the burden of our sins may be considered as something diverse from his suffering God's wrath. For his suffering wrath consisted more in the sense he had of the dreadfulness of the punishment of sin, or of God's wrath inflicted for it. Thus Christ was tormented not only in the fire of God's wrath, but in the fire of our sins; and our sins were his tormentors; the evil and malignant nature of

sin, was what Christ endured immediately as well as more remotely, in bearing the consequences of it.

§ 32. Thus Christ suffered that which the damned in hell do not suffer. For they do not see the hateful nature of sin. They have no idea of sin in itself, that is infinitely disagreeable to their nature, as the idea of sin was to Christ's holy nature; though conscience in them be awakened to behold the dreadful guilt and desert of sin. And as the clear view of sin in its hatefulness necessarily brought great suffering on the holy soul of Christ; so also did the view of its punishment. For both the evil of sin and the evil of punishment are infinite, and both infinitely disagreeable to Christ's nature; the former to his nature as God, the latter to his nature as man. Such is human nature, that a great and clear, and full idea of suffering, without some other pleasant and sweet idea fully to balance it, brings suffering; as appears from the nature of all spiritual ideas. They are repetitions (in a degree at least) of the things themselves of which they are ideas. Therefore, if Christ had had a perfectly clear and full idea of what the damned suffer in hell, the suffering he would have had in that mere presence of that idea, would have been perfectly equal to the thing itself, if there had been no idea in Christ in any degree to balance it; such as, some knowledge of the love of God, of a future reward, future salvation of his elect, &c. But pleasant ideas in this clearness being in a great measure withholden by reason of God's hiding his face; hence, the awful ideas of eternal death which his elect people deserved, and of the dismal wrath of God of consequence filled the soul of Christ with an inexpressible gloom. Though Christ knew the love of God to him, and knew he should be successful in his sufferings; yet when God forsook him, those dismal views, those gloomy ideas so fixed and swallowed up his mind, that though he had the habitual knowledge of those other objects, yet he could not attend to them; he could have comparatively but little comfort and support from them; for they could afford support no farther than they were attended to, or were in actual view. Christ's great love and pity to the elect was one source of his suffering. A strong exercise of love excites a lively idea of the object beloved. And a strong exercise of pity excites a lively idea of the misery under which he pities them. Christ's love then brought his elect infinitely near to him in that great act and suffering wherein he especially stood for them, and was substituted in their stead; and his love and pity fixed the idea of them in his mind, as if he had really been they; and fixed their calamity in his mind, as though it really was his. A very strong and lively love and pity toward the miserable, tends to make their case ours; as in other respects, so in this in particular, as it doth in our idea place us in their stead, under their misery, with a most lively, VOL. VII. 67

feeling sense of that misery, as it were feeling it for them, actually suffering it in their stead by strong sympathy.

§ 33. Hence we may see how the same thing, the same ideas that distressed the soul of Christ and brought on his amazing sufferings, engaged him to go through them. It was ordered that the bitterness of the cup, though exceedingly dreadful, was of that nature, that the tasting of that bitterness, was the thing that engaged him to go on to drink up the cup; and that as the bitterness of it arose from the clear idea he had then given him of the infinitely hateful and dreadful nature of sin. The more lively this idea was, the more dreadful was it to the soul of Christ; and yet, the more lively his idea of the hatefulness and dreadfulness of sin was, which consists in disobedience to God, the more did it engage him not to disobey that great command he had received of his Father, viz. That he should drink this cup, and go through those sufferings. The more he had a sense how dreadful it is to contemn the authority of God, and to dishonour his holy name; the more would he be engaged to remove and abolish this dishonour, and to honour the authority of God. The more he had a sense of what an odious and dreadful thing sin was, the more would his heart be engaged to do and suffer what was necessary to take away this dreadful and odious thing from those whom the Father had given him. It was the lively exercise of love and pity to those whom the Father had given him, that occasioned so lively a view of the punishment to which they had exposed themselves, whereby his soul was filled with dismay. But this lively love and pity at the same time engaged him to suffer for them, in order to deliver them from their deserved punishment. And as pity towards his elect excited a lively idea of their misery; so on the other hand, the increase of his idea of their misery excited strong exercises of pity, and this

engaged him still to endure those sufferings in their stead.

pity 34. From what has been said, we may learn how Christ

was sanctified in his last sufferings. The suffering of his soul in great part consisted in the great and dreadful sense and idea that he then had of the dreadful, horrid odiousness of sin; which was done by the Spirit of God. But this could not be, without a proportionable increase of his aversion to, and hatred of sin; and consequently of his inclination to the contrary, which is the same thing as an increase of the holiness of his nature. Beside the immediate sight he had of the odious nature of sin, he had that strong sense, and that great experience of the bitter fruit and consequence of sin, to confirm his enmity to it. Moreover, he was then in the exercise of his highest act of obedience or holiness, which, tending to increase the principle, the bringing forth of such great and abundant fruit, tended to strengthen and increase the root. Those last suffer