God will not, in the event, deliver such an one. But this I say, that such an one has no ground to conclude that he will; and withal, that for the most part he does not. For by thus stepping out of his way, he tempts God; and that surely is not the likeliest course to keep the Devil from tempting him.

As for the other way by which men pass into temptation, namely, in the course of their honest calling or profession, or by some overruling providence casting them under such circumstances as may lay some tempting, alluring object before them; I do not doubt but a man, in such a case, may comfortably and warrantably hope for such assistances from God, as shall carry him safe and successfully through the temptation, be it what it will; I say, he may have much greater grounds to hope for them in this, than in the former cases, but can say no more; and that a hope so bottomed is so far from being an act of presumption, that it is indeed a lower act of faith, or next to it, and a justifiable dependence upon the power and goodness of him who never by his sole providence brings a good man into temptation, but that, sooner or later, he also opens a door whereby he may get out of it.

And it is in good earnest a matter of some astonishment, to consider, what eminent, what triumphant success even weak persons have had against such temptations as they have been next to unavoidably entangled in; and on the other side, what scandalous falls even the strongest and greatest heroes in religion have met with, by entering the lists with their powerful and skilful enemy, before God had called them to the combat: when indeed God thinks fit to call them to it, the battle is his, and the success must needs be answerable. But God is not bound to do miracles, as often as men are pleased to be wanton, and to throw themselves into danger, and thereby create to themselves a necessity either of a dismal fall or a miraculous delivery.

But to illustrate this matter farther, I shall give you some instances of the different success which has attended these two ways of entering into temptation.

Aud first; how came David to fall into so foul a sin as adultery, and Joseph to escape it, though the temptation was much more pressing and importunate upon Joseph than it was upon David? Why, the reason is manifest: David cast himself into it by indulging himself at that time in a course of idleness and pleasure, and a gross neglect of the duties of his royal office: for in 2 Sam. xi. 1, 2, we find him represented first lazing upon his couch, and then "walking upon the

* Consult Sermon XXII. p. 178, on the Prevention of Sin. VOL. II.

roof of his house;" and, in a word, tarrying at home careless and inactive, and that at the highest time of action, a time when the text remarkably says that "kings went out to battle," and when his own armies were in the field, and he himself should have been in the head of them, as became a prince whom God had raised to that high station for nobler ends than to do his business by others, and assume the glory of it to himself.

On the contrary, Joseph came under the temptation without any precedent act or fault of his own, being forced out of his country, and carried as a slave into Egypt, and there bought and sold, and at length placed in a family where the Devil maliciously laid a snare for him, and he as victoriously broke through it. But had Joseph, out of a vain, vagrant humour, travelled into Egypt, (as some do into France and other places,) only to see the country and to learn fashions, (as the word goes,) and in the course of his travels fallen into Potiphar's house, probably he might have given that lewd proposal another kind of entertainment, and, while he was learning fashions, not have refused so fashionable a temptation.

Again, how came Moses to be safe amidst all the pleasures and idolatries of Pharaoh's court, and Peter to deny and forswear the Son of God and Saviour of the world in the court of the high priest, where there was much less danger of forgetting God and himself, than there was in the Egyptian court, a place fraught with all sorts of vice, and without the least savour of God or goodness, virtue or religion? Why, the same reason is to be given for this also; God by a strange providence, had placed Moses there, without any consent or concurrence of his own; and accordingly, having brought him thither by his providence, he preserved him there by his grace.

But on the other side: What reason had Peter to thrust himself into the high priest's hall, where he had nothing to do, and to venture himself into the very mouth of that danger which Christ himself, but a few hours before, had so expressly warned him of? Why, it was his foolish confidence and curiosity, which betrayed him into that gazing, fatal adventure, which had like to have rifled his soul, and robbed him of his faith, and, without the interposal of a singular grace, had consigned him over to a sad and final apostasy.

Many more such instances might be produced of both sorts; but I suppose these may suffice to convince the sober and considerate, that the same divine assistances which use to be vouchsafed to men in God's way, are not to be expected by them in the Devil's walk.

And yet so little is this considered, that I dare avouch, that most of those deadly blows

B

And it is wonderful to consider, what absurd, senseless pretences some allege for their so doing; three of which I shall briefly mention. As,

1st, Ask some men how they dare make themselves spectators of all that lewdness, and hearers of all that ribaldry, immorality, and profaneness, which is oftentimes seen and heard in some places and companies, and those in no small request neither; and they will tell you, that they do it (forsooth) because they know themselves proof against all impressions from such objects. And do they indeed find themselves so upon experience? Why yes, just as much as tinder uses to be proof against the sparks which fall upon it. And generally such spiritual braves, upon the first encounter and trial of their strength this way, are quickly taught the contrary, full sore to their cost, seldom coming off but with a baffled confidence and a bleeding conscience, with the shame of one and the guilt of the other.

2dly, Others, in the like cases, will tell you, that they venture in this manner, to create in themselves a greater and more lively hatred and detestation of such practices by an actual inspection of the ugliness and deformity of them. Which kind of reasoning is just as if a man should go into a pest-house to learn a remedy against the plague.

But whosoever he is, who shall presume to try the strength and temper of his soul by such venturous, unhallowed courses as these, shall find that God will leave him, and his own purposes will fail him; and the sin which he would pretend to hate shall smile in his face, and win upon his heart, and by secret encroaches grow upon his spirit, till at length it has crept into and lodged itself within the very inmost powers of his soul. It being usually with the heart of man and a temptation, as it was with Esau and his brother Jacob; while Esau was marching towards him, he fully proposed to fight him, but as soon as he came to him, he embraced him.

It is a saying worthy to be wrote in the heart of every man with the pen of a diamond, (Ecel'us. iii. 26,) that "he who loves danger shall perish by it." And that man who can be so sottishly ignorant of the nature of things, as to think to learn sobriety amongst the debauched, chastity in the stews, modesty at balls and plays, and the like, will quickly come to leave his virtue behind him, and to take the shape and impress of that mould into which such courses and companies have cast him. For there is no such thing as gathering grapes

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peristasis. He who will needs fight the Devil at his own weapon, must not wonder if he finds him an overmatch.

3dly and lastly, There are others again who run themselves upon these ungodly and foolhardy adventures, out of an insolent confidence, that, in case they should happen to be worsted and foiled in them, they will repent, and that shall salve all, and set them whole and right again: than which confidence nothing can be imagined more absurd and impious; absurd, because a man hereby ventures the greatest interest he has in the world upon something not in his own power; repentance being, upon several accounts, most particularly the gift of God: and surely no man can have cause to expect a gift, nay, the best of gifts, from God, while he is actually provoking him. For how can such a wretch assure himself that God will give him either grace to repent by, or time to repent in ? And yet it is certain that there can be no repentance without both, and as certain that a man can give himself neither.

He may perhaps for a while stop the mouth of his crying conscience with some flattering, fallacious promises of an after-amendment. But as it was said to the rich sottish worldling in the gospel, singing a requiem to his soul, and projecting his future ease, upon a survey of his present stores; so may it be said to that man who abuses himself with such false reckonings about his spiritual estate, "Thou fool, this night shall thy soul be required of thee;" and then what will become of all those windy, abortive projects of a future repentance? No doubt, a man may drop into hell in the midst of them. And that will be a sad conviction to him, that repentance is one thing, and a purpose to repent quite another. And so much for the absurdity of this pretence.

And then for the impiety of it. It is of so peculiar a malignity and opposition to the motions of God's Holy Spirit, that whosoever can take heart to sin upon presumption of a following repentance, needs not be much concerned about the issue of any temptation; for he is already under the power of one of the worst and strongest temptations that can possibly befall a man; and carries a heart so utterly contrary to, and estranged from all real sense of piety, that the utmost commission of the sin which he is tempted to can hardly estrange it more.

Such an one is certainly in the very gall of bitterness," and under the most binding fetters that the Devil can well hold him by. For of all the Devil's engines, this imposture of a future repentance is the chief and most fatally efficacious; and, I dare affirm, has sent

more souls to hell than any one thing else whatsoever. Nay, the truth is, it is hard to imagine how any man, with his senses about him, could venture upon any deliberate sin without it. For come to a sinner just as he is entering upon the Devil's work, and ask him whether he does not know that God has threatened theft, murder, and uncleanness, and the like, with damnation? and he will tell you, Yes. And is not God true and just? Yes. And if so, how dare you venture to commit any of these sins? Then whispers his false heart this secret encouragement in his ear, that repentance shall step in between him and damnation. And so the scene being thus laid, the man goes on, and upon these terms complies with the temptation, and commits the sin; and God, perhaps, in his just judgment, never gives him grace to repent of it. But this is a subject of so great importance, that it worthily requires a just, entire discourse by itself.

And thus having shewn, that, which way soever a man passes into temptation, he can have no antecedent assurance that God will deliver him out of it; no, nor yet in the place, so much as a probable expectation of such a deliverance, unless the temptation befalls him in the course of his lawful occasions, or by some overruling providence casting him upon it, and not by his own free choice and fault stepping into it; and lastly, since it is certain that men fall into temptation this latter way, at least a hundred times for once that they fall into it upon the former account, I suppose there can need no farther demonstration of the truth of that other proposition laid down by me, namely, "That before a man's entering into temptation, it is much more probable, and that he has greater reason to believe, that being once prevailed upon by it, he shall not be delivered out of it, than that he shall." Which one thing seriously thought of and laid to heart, surely, one would think, should be abundantly enough to alarm any man in his wits, and to keep him out of those fatal by-ways, where the entrance is dangerous, the retreat is doubtful, and the end is

death.

And now to sum up this whole argument and discourse in a few words. If the foregoing assertions or propositions be true, (as the whole world will never be able to prove them otherwise,) let any one of sense and reason, from this consideration, that the mercy of God and the intercession of Christ are engaged to deliver the godly out of temptation, draw a rational argument to venture upon a temptation, if he can.

For, first, upon a principle of common gratitude or humanity, will or can any one make mercy itself a motive to sin, and the greatest kindness a provocation to the foulest hostilities? Will à son kick against his

father's bowels, only because he knows that they yearn over him? And if this be monstrous and incredible, can we believe that a principle of grace can suggest or endure such reasonings as common humanity would abhor?

Or, in the next place, will a principle of common prudence suffer a man under a capital guilt to offend, grieve, and affront his advocate? Shall I spit in the face of him who is to plead for my life, and I am a dead man if he does not? And if common sense will and must explode such practices, can a principle of grace, which enlightens the understanding as well as purifies the heart, carry a man to that which common sense would secure him from? All these are paradoxes in reason and nature, and therefore infinitely more so in religion.

Well, but admit that the enormous strength of a man's corruption should so far overbear all these discourses both of reason and religion, as to make him sin, and then presume upon mercy in spite of them. Why, then it will follow, that such an one has no reason in the earth to reckon himself in the number of the godly and regenerate, to whom alone an interest in those two great benefits does belong; and consequently, that he presumes without any ground. In which case, it is not this or any other gospel doctrine, but the man's own ignorance and misapplication of that to himself which he has no claim to, which causes his presumption.

And, therefore, shew me that man who can make such cursed inferences from those two high privileges, and I will undertake to demonstrate to him, that those inferences and conclusions are much more effectual arguments to evince that he has no interest at all

in that mercy and that intercession, than they can be to prove that that mercy and that intercession will be employed, or concerned to deliver him out of temptation.

For a principle of true grace; nay, even a probable persuasion; nay, farther, a full assurance of that grace, would keep any one from arguing at such a villainous rate: foras

much as no man ever attains to such an assurance but by a long course of piety, and a habitual, strict communion with God, and such an eminent, controlling degree of grace, as shall render it morally impossible for a person so qualified to make such horrid conclusions.

But the truth is, error and a wicked mind will draw poison out of any thing, and turn the choicest benefits and the richest cordials of the gospel into gall and hemlock. But for all that, "God is not mocked," though men love to be deceived. Nor are the means of salvation at all the less so, because some abuse them to their destruction. I am sure we have all cause to pray, that God would keep us

I HAVE twice already discoursed upon this text, in which, after some short explication and account given both of the sense and design of the words, I cast the farther prosecution of them under these following particulars:

1st, To shew how far God delivers persons truly pious out of temptation.

2dly, To shew what is the grand motive or impulsive cause inducing God thus to deliver them. And,

3dly and lastly, To shew why and upon what grounds this is to be reputed so great a mercy and so transcendent a privilege.

The two first of these I have formerly treated of, and proceed now to the third and last, which is to shew, why and upon what grounds deliverance out of temptation is to be reputed so great a mercy and so transcendent a privilege.

In order to which, as all deliverance, in the very nature and notion of it, imports a relation to some evil from which a man is delivered, so in this deliverance out of temptation, the surpassing greatness of it, and the Sovereign mercy shewn in it, will appear from those intolerable evils and mischiefs which are always intended by and naturally consequent upon a prevailing temptation. To give some account of which shall be the business of our present discourse.

And for this we shall first in general lay down this as a certain truth, That all the mischief that sin can possibly do a mau, temptation designs him. All that is valuable, either in this world or the next, it would rob him of; and all that can be called misery, either here or hereafter, it would subject him to. All that a man can enjoy is struck at, and all that a man can suffer is intended; and if the tempter allows him the quiet enjoyment of any thing desirable in this life, it is only to bereave him of that which is infinitely more so in the other.

Which being so, as to that high concern in debate between the Devil and the souls of men; since his malice is such, that he cannot but tempt, it is an infinite mercy that he can do no more than tempt, and that a man's own consent must be had to his own destruction. For if the tempter could have his will upon the person tempted, he would scorn to court where he could compel. He would make directly at his head, and not come stealing upon his heel. He would break in upon him with open force, and not stand poorly waiting at his elbow with a temptation.

But to come to particulars. Four things more especially are designed, and driven at by the tempter in all his temptations. As,

1st, To begin with the greatest, and that which is always first intended, though last accomplished, the utter loss and damnation of the soul. For this is the grand mark which the tempter shoots at, this the beloved prize which he contends so hard for.

And as two enemies may be really as much enemies while they are treating as when they are fighting, so the Devil bears the same malice to a man while he tempts him, as when he actually torments him. Temptation is the way to torment, and torment the end of temptation.

When men first venture upon sinful objects, lewd converse, and occasions of life suitable to their corrupt humours, the face of the temptation looks fair and harmless, the first proposals of it plausible and modest, and the last and dismal issue of things is with great art and care kept out of their sight; so that they shall not perceive that their enemy is so much as about to strike, till the final and fatal stroke is effectually given.

The Devil, perhaps, offers thee pleasure; but, poor creature! it is thy life which he aims at, thy darling life which he is driving a base bargain for. Or he may lay wealth and riches before thee, but be assured that he will have something for his money, something of more value to thee than both the Indies, and the whole world besides. Sometimes he courts with honour and greatness, but still expects to be well paid for both. And as great a prince as he is, he never knights any one, but he expects more than knight's service from him in return. In a word, he will have thy conscience and thy religion by way of earnest here, and thy soul in full payment for it hereafter. There is not the least thing in the world which the tempter offers a man for nothing; not so much as a pitiful mess or morsel to relieve thy craving, starving appetites, but he will, if he can, have thy birthright, thy immortal birthright in exchange for it.

Could we but look into those mansions of horror, where he has lodged so many millions of lost souls, the cruel monuments of