Chapter VI
Of the various ways by which he hinders peace—1. Way by discomposures of spirit. These discomposures explained, by shewing, (1.) What advantage he takes from our natural temper, and what tempers give him this advantage. (2.) By what occasions he works upon our natural tempers. (3.) With what success. [1.] These occasions suited to natural inclinations, raise great disturbance. [2.] They have a tendency to spiritual trouble. The thing proved, and the manner how discovered. [3.] These disturbances much in his power. General and particular considerations about that power.
Having evidenced that one of Satan’s principal designs is against the peace and comfort of God’s children, I shall next endeavour a discovery of the various ways by which he doth undermine them herein. All inward troubles are not of the same kind in themselves, neither doth Satan always produce the same effects out of all; some being in their own nature disquiets, that do not so directly and immediately overthrow the peace and joy of believing, and the comforts of assurance of divine favour, as others do. Yet seeing that by all he hath no small advantage against us as to sin and trouble, and that any of them at the long run may lead us to question our interest in grace and the love of God, and may accordingly afflict us, I shall speak of them all; which that I may do the more distinctly, I shall rank these troubles into several heads, under peculiar names—it may be not altogether so proper but that the curious may find matter of exception to them—that by them and their explanation the differences may the better appear. I distinguish therefore of a fourfold trouble that the devil doth endeavour to work up upon the hearts of men. They are, 1. Discomposures. 2. Affrightments. 3. Dejections of sadness. 4. Distresses of horror. Of all which I shall speak in their order. And,
1. Of discomposures of soul. These are molestations and disturbances by which the mind is put out of order and made unquiet. The calm in which it should enjoy itself, and by which it should be composed to a regular and steady acting, being disturbed by a storm of commotion, and in which the conscience or the peace of it is not presently concerned. This distinction of the trouble of soul from the trouble of conscience is not new. Others have observed it before,[321] and do thus explain it: Trouble of soul is larger than trouble of conscience; every troubled conscience is a troubled soul, but every troubled soul is not a troubled conscience; for the soul may be troubled from causes natural, civil, and spiritual, according to variety of occasions and provocations, when yet a man’s inward peace with God is firm; and in some cases, as in infants and in men distracted with fevers, &c., there may be passions and disturbances of soul when the conscience is not capable of exercising its office: nay, the soul of Christ was troubled—John xii. 27, ‘Now is my soul troubled’—when it was not possible that sin or despair should have the least footing in him.
For the opening of these discomposures of soul I shall—1. Shew upon what advantage of natural temper the devil is encouraged to molest men. 2. By what occasions he doth work upon our natural inclinations. 3. And with what success of disturbance to the soul.
(1.) As to our natural dispositions, Satan, as hath formerly been noted, takes his usual indications of working from thence. These guide him in his enterprises; his temptations being suited to men’s tempers, proceed more smoothly and successfully. Some are of so serene and calm a disposition, that he doth not much design their discomposure; but others there are whose passions are more stirring—fit matter for him to work upon: and these are,
[1.] The angry disposition. How great an advantage this gives to Satan to disturb the heart, may be easily conceived by considering the various workings of it in several men, according to their different humours. It is a passion that acts not alike in all; and for the differences, so far as we need to be concerned, I shall not trouble the schools of philosophers, but content myself with what we have in Eph. iv. 31, where the apostle expresseth it by three words, not that they differ essentially, declaring thereby the various ways of anger’s working. The first is πικρία, which we translate bitterness. This is a displeasure smothered; for some when they are angry cover it, and give it no vent, partly for that they are sometimes ashamed to mention the ground as trivial or unjust, partly from sullenness of disposition, and oft from a natural reservedness; while the flame is thus kept down, it burns inwardly, and men resolve[322] in their minds many troublesome, vexatious thoughts. The second word is θυμὸς, wrath; this is a fierce, impetuous anger. Some are soon moved, but so violent that they are presently transported into rage and frenzy, or are so peevishly waspish that they cannot be spoken to. The third is ὀργὴ, translated here anger, but signifies such a displeasure as is deep, entertaining thoughts of revenge and pursuit, settling itself at last into hatred. Any of these is enough to bereave the heart of its rest, and to alarm it with disturbances.[323]
[2.] Others have an envious nature, always maligning and repining at other men’s felicity; an evil eye that cannot look on another’s better condition without vexation. This turns a man into a devil. It is the devil’s proper sin, and the fury that doth unquiet him, and he the better knows of what avail it would be to help on our trouble.
[3.] Some are of proud tempers, always overvaluing themselves, with the scorn and contempt of others. This humour is troublesome to all about them, but all this trouble doth at last redound to themselves. These think all others should observe them, and take notice of their supposed excellencies, which if men do not, then it pines them or stirs up their choler to indignation. Solomon, Prov. xxx. 21, mentioning those things that are greatly disquieting in the earth, instanceth in ‘a servant when he reigneth; and the handmaid that is heir to her mistress,’ intending thereby the proud, imperious insolency of those that are unexpectedly raised from a low estate to wealth or honour. He that is of ‘a proud heart stirreth up strife,’ Prov. xxviii. 25; and as he is troublesome to others, so doth he create trouble to himself; for he not only molests himself by the working of his disdainful thoughts, while he exerciseth his scorn towards others: Prov. xxi. 24, ‘The haughty scorner deals in proud wrath;’ but this occasions the affronts and contempt of others again, which beget new griefs to his restless mind.
[4.] Some have a natural exorbitancy of desire, an evil coveting; they are passionately carried forth toward what they have not, and have no contentment or satisfaction in what they do enjoy. Such humours are seldom at ease, their desires are painfully violent; and when they obtain what they longed for, they soon grow weary of it, and then another object takes up their wishes, so that these ‘daughters of the horse-leech are ever crying, Give, give,’ Prov. xxx. 15.
[5.] Others have a soft effeminate temper, a weakness of soul that makes them unfit to bear any burden, or endure any hardness. These, if they meet with pains or troubles—and who can challenge an exemption from them?—they are presently impatient, vexing themselves by a vain reluctancy to what they cannot avoid; not but that extraordinary burdens will make the strongest spirit to stoop, but these cry out for the smallest matters, which a stout mind would bear with some competent cheerfulness.
[6.] And there are other dispositions that are tender to an excess of sympathy, so that they immoderately affect and afflict themselves with other men’s sorrows. Though this be a temper more commendable than any of the former, yet Satan can take advantage of this, as also of the fore-named dispositions, to discompose us, especially by suiting them with fit occasions, which readily work upon these tempers. And this was,
(2.) The second thing to be explained, which shall be performed by a brief enumeration of them, the chief whereof are these:
[1.] Contempt or disestimation. When a man’s person, parts, or opinion are slighted, his anger, envy, pride, and impatience are awakened, and these make him swell and restless within. Even good men have been sadly disturbed this way. Job, as holy a man as he was, and who had enough of greater matters to trouble his mind, yet among other griefs complains of this more than once: Job xii. 4, ‘I am as one mocked of his neighbour: the just upright man is laughed to scorn;’ chap. xix. 15, ‘They that dwell in mine house, and my maids, count me for a stranger. I called my servant, and he gave me no answer. Yea, young children despised me; I rose up and they spake against me.’ Thus he bemoans himself, and, which is more, speaks of it again with some smartness of indignation: Job xxx. 1, ‘Now they that are younger than I have me in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the dogs of my flock.’ David also, who had a stout heart under troubles, complains that he could not bear reproaches: Ps. lxix., ‘Reproach hath broken mine heart; I am full of heaviness.’ What these reproaches were, and how he was staggered with them, he tells us: ver. 10, ‘I chastened my soul with fasting, that was to my reproach. I made sackcloth my garment; and I became a proverb to them. They that sit in the gate speak against me; and I was the song of the drunkards.’ With these he was so stounded that if he had not catched hold on God by prayer, as he speaks, ver. 13, he had fallen, ‘But as for me, my prayer is unto thee, O Lord,’ &c.; and he afterward speaks of his support under reproaches as a wonder of divine assistance: Ps. cxix. 51, ‘The proud have had me in derision: yet have I not declined from thy law.’
[2.] Injury is another occasion by which the devil works upon our tempers to disquiet us. Wrongs of injustice and oppression are hard to bear. This is a common ground of trouble. Good men cannot always acquit themselves in this case as they ought. Jeremiah, when smitten by Pashur, and put in the stocks, Jer. xx. 2, 8, falls into a sad passion: ‘I am a derision daily, every one mocketh me. I cried out, I cried violence and spoil,’ imitating the passionate affrightments of those that cry, Murder, murder, &c. No wonder, seeing Solomon gives it as an axiom built upon manifold experience, Eccles. vii. 7. Oppression doth not only make a man unquiet, but mad in his unquietness; and not only those that are foolish and hasty, but the most considerate and sedate persons: ‘Oppression makes a wise man mad.’
[3.] Another occasion of men’s discomposure is, the prosperity of the wicked. Their abundance, their advancements to honours and dignity, hath always been a grudge to those whose condition is below them, and yet suppose themselves to have better grounds to expect preferment than they. This astonished Job even to trembling: Job xxi. 7, ‘When I remember, I am afraid, and trembling taketh hold on my flesh;’ and the matter was but this, ‘Wherefore do the wicked live, become old, yea, and mighty in power?’ &c. The trouble that seizeth on men’s hearts on this occasion is called fretting, a vexation that wears out the strength of the soul, as two hard bodies waste by mutual attrition or rubbing. And it takes its advantage from our envy chiefly, though other distempers come in to help it forward: Ps. xxxvii. 1, ‘Fret not thyself because of evil-doers, neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity.’ David confesseth that he was apt to fall into this trouble, Ps. lxxiii. 3, ‘I was envious at the foolish, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.’ Against this disquiet we have frequent cautions, Prov. xxiv. 1, 19, and Ps. xlix. 16, ‘Be not afraid when one is made rich, when the glory of his house is increased.’ All which shew our proneness to this disease.
[4.] Crosses and afflictions give Satan an opportunity to work upon our passions; as disappointments of expectations, loss of friends, of estate, persecutions and sufferings for conscience sake, &c. None of these in their own nature are ‘joyous, but grievous;’ and what use they have been of to the devil to discompose the minds of the sufferers, is evidenced by common experience. The tears, sad countenances, and doleful lamentations of men are true witnesses of the disquiet of their hearts. Every one being pressed with the sense of his own smart is ready to cry out, ‘Is there any sorrow like my sorrow? I am poor and comfortless; my lovers and my friends have forsaken me, and there is none to help.’ Some grow faint under their burden, while their eyes fail in looking for redress, especially when new unexpected troubles overwhelm their hopes: ‘When I looked for good, then evil came; and when I waited for light, there came darkness,’ Job xxx. 26. ‘Why hast thou smitten us, and there is no healing for us? We looked for peace, and there is no good; and for the time of healing, and behold trouble,’ Jer. xiv. 19; and here they sink, concluding there is no hope. Others that bear up better in a blessed expectation of spiritual profit, having that of David in their eye, ‘Blessed is the man whom thou afflictest, and teachest in thy law;’ yet they cannot forbear their complaints even to God; Ps. xxv. 17, ‘The troubles of mine heart are enlarged; oh bring thou me out of my distresses; look upon mine affliction and my pain.’ Nay,[324] those that have had the highest advantages of heavenly support, whose hearts have been kept in peace, counting it all joy that they have fallen into these trials—and God doth more this way for those that suffer for the gospel’s sake than ordinarily for others; yet have not these been under a stoical senselessness of their trouble. Though they were not ‘distressed,’ they were ‘troubled on every side;’ though ‘not in despair,’ yet they were ‘perplexed,’ 2 Cor. iv. 8; though their afflictions were light, yet were they afflictions still.
[5.] To these may be added, the pain or anguish of sickness and bodily distemper. Though there are various degrees of pain, and that some sicknesses are less afflictive than others, yet none of them forbear to pierce the mind. The whole man is discomposed. He that is exercised with ‘strong pains upon his bed,’ cries out in the bitterness of his soul; and he that by insensible degrees languisheth, grows ordinarily peevish, and his mind bleeds by an inward wound, so that he ‘spends his days in sighing,’ and his years in mourning. And others there are who, being before acquainted with bodily pains, grow very impatient in sickness, and are able to bear nothing. And besides the present sense of pain, the expectation of death puts some into great commotion; the fears of it, for it is naturally dreadful, fills them with disquiet thoughts; and those that approach to the grave by slow steps, under consumption or languishing sicknesses, they are habituated to sadness, and can think of nothing cheerfully—except they have great assurance of salvation, and have well learned to die—because the coffin, grave, and winding-sheet are still presented to them. These, though they be very suitable objects for meditation, and, well improved, of great advantage for preparation to death, yet doth Satan thereby, when it is for his purpose, endeavour to keep men under grief, and to bereave them of their peace.
[6.] Satan takes an advantage of trouble from the miseries of others. Sympathy is a Christian grace; and to bear one another’s burdens, to mourn with those that mourn, shews us to be fellow-feeling members of the same body; for ‘if one member suffer, all the members suffer with it,’ [1 Cor. xii. 26.] Yet are some men naturally of so tender a constitution, that Satan overdrives them herein. Every common occasion will wound them. The usual effects of God’s ordinary providence on the poor, lame, or sick, are deeply laid to heart by them; and instead of being not unsensible of other men’s miseries, they are not sensible of anything else, neither do they enjoy their own mercies. And here, as Satan can every moment present them with objects of pity, ordinary or extraordinary, so upon a religious pretence of merciful consideration, they are made cruel to themselves, refusing their own peace, because other men are not at ease.
(3.) The third particular promised to be explained for the discovery of these discomposures of soul was this, that by a concurrence of these and such like occasions to such tempers, the hearts of men are disturbed, and their inward peace broken. This I shall evidence of these three things: 1. That these occasions meeting with such dispositions, do naturally raise great disturbances in their present working; 2. That they have a tendency to further trouble; 3. That Satan doth design, and hath it ordinarily in his power, to discompose the hearts of men hereby.
[1.] That these occasions meeting with such dispositions, do naturally raise great disturbances. This is evident from what hath been said already; for (1.) All these dispositions carry as much fire in their own bosoms, as is sufficient to burn up the standing corn of any man’s peace. What is anger, but an inward burning, a restless confusion of the spirits? sometime a frenzy, a distraction, a troubled sea full of rage, a wild beast let loose. Envy, that is a fretful peevishness, a vexatious repining, needing no other tormentors but its own furies, recoiling upon him that bred it, because it cannot wreak its spite upon its objects. An envious person is a self-murderer, by the verdict of Eliphaz: Job v. 2, ‘Wrath killeth the foolish man, and envy slayeth the foolish one.’ This is not barely to be understood of its provoking the judge of all the earth to send down its deserved destruction; but also, if not chiefly, of its own corroding temper, which by long continuance wastes the strength and consumes the body. Pride is a perpetual vexation, creating its troubles from its own fancy. Irregular covetings keep a man still upon the rack; they make a man like the Tantalus of the poets; they give a man a caninus appetitus, a strong appetite with excessive greediness, and restless pursuit, and constant dissatisfactions; he is ever gaping, and never enjoying. Impatience is a wearisome conflict with a burden which it can neither bear nor yet shake off; where all the fruit of the vain labour amounts to no better account than this, that the impatient makes his burden the greater, the bands that tie it on the stronger, and the strength that should bear it the weaker. Lastly, An excess of pity multiplies ‘wounds without cause.’ It hinders a man to be happy so long as there are any that are miserable. He is always, in reference to his quiet, at the mercy of other men. The afflicted can torment him at a distance; and, by a kind of magic, make him feel the torments that are inflicted upon his image. Who can deny but that men that are ridden by such vexatious dispositions must lead an unquiet life, and always be tossed with inward tempests? Especially, (2.) When we consider how fit the fore-mentioned occasions are to draw out these humours to their tumultuary extravagances. A lighted match and gunpowder are not more exactly suited to raise a shaking blast, than those occasions and tempers are to breed an inward annoyance. Some of these humours are so troublesome, that rather than they will want work, they will fight with their own shadows, and, by a perverseness of prejudicated fancy, will create their own troubles; and the best of them, which seem sometime to take truce and compose themselves to rest, while occasions are out of the way; yet they are quickly awakened, like sleeping dogs that are roused with the least noise. What work, then, may we expect they will make when they are summoned to give their appearance upon a solemn occasion? But (3.) If we should deal by instances, and bring upon the stage the effects that have been brought forth by these concurring causes, it will appear that they make disturbances in good earnest. Let us either view the furious fits that have been, like sudden flashes, soonest gone, or their more lasting impressions, and we shall find it true. As to violent fits raised by such occasions and dispositions, examples are infinite. What rages, outrages, madnesses, and extravagances have men run into! Some, upon provocations, have furiously acted savage cruelties, and for small matters have been carried to the most desperate revenges. Others have been brought to such violent commotions within themselves, that the frame of nature hath been thereby weakened and overthrown. As Sylla, who in a strong passion vomited choler till he died. Some in their fury have acted that which hath been matter of sorrow to them all their days. But, omitting the examples of heathens and wicked men, let us consider the wonderful transports of holy men. Moses, a man eminent beyond comparison in meekness, was so astonished with a sudden surprise of trouble at the sight of the golden calf, that he threw down the tables of the law, and brake them. Some indeed observe from thence a significancy of Israel’s breaking the law and forfeiting God’s protection as his peculiar people; but this is more to be ascribed to the designment of divine providence, that so ordered it, than to the intendment of Moses, who no doubt did not this from a sedate and calm deliberation, as purposing by this act to tell Israel so much; but was hurried by his grief, as not considering well what he did, to break them. Asa, a good man, when he was reproved by the prophet, instead of thankful acceptance of the reproof, grows angry, falls into a rage, and throws the prophet into prison. Elias, discomposed with Jezebel’s persecution, desires that God would take away his life. Jonah, in his anger, falls out with God, and justifies it when he hath done. Surely such fits as these proceeded from great inward combustion. Would wise, sober, holy men have said or done such things if they had not been transported beyond themselves? and though in such cases the fits are soon over, yet we observe that some are apt to fall into such fits often, and are so easily irritated, that, like the epileptic person possessed by the devil, upon every occasion, they are by him ‘cast into the fire or into the water,’ [Mat. xvii. 15,] and by the frequent return of their distemper are never at rest.
As to others, whose tempers are more apt to retain a troublesome impression, it is very obvious that their discomposures have as much in length and breadth as the other had in height. You may view Haman tormented under his secret discontent, which his pride and envy formed in him, for the want of Mordecai’s obeisance. The king’s favour, a great estate, high honour, and what else a man could wish to make him content, are all swallowed up in this gulf, and become nothing to him. You see Amnon, vexed and sick for his sister Tamar, waxing lean from day to day. You see Ahab, though a king, who had enough to satisfy his mind, in the same condition for Naboth’s vineyard. If you say these were wicked men, who rid their lusts without a bridle, and used the spur; look then upon better men and you will see too much. Rachel so grieves and mourns for want of children, that she professeth her life inconsistent with her disappointment: ‘Give me children, else I die,’ [Gen. xxx. 1.] Hannah upon the same occasion weeps and eats not, and prays in the bitterness of her soul, and the abundance of her complaint and grief. Jeremiah, being pressed with discouragements from the contradiction of evil men, calls himself ‘a man of strife and contention to the whole earth,’ Jer. xv. 10; his sorrows thence arising, had so imbittered his life, that he puts ‘a woe’ upon his birth: ‘Woe is me, my mother, that thou hast born me a man of strife.’ Paul had a noble courage under manifold afflictions; he could glory in the cross and rejoice in persecutions; nevertheless the greatness of his work, the froward perverseness and unsteadiness of professors, which put him under fears, jealousies, and new travail, the miseries of Christians, and the care he had for the concerns of the gospel—2 Cor. xi. 2; Gal. vi. 19—which was a constant load upon his mind, his heart,—like old Eli’s, trembling still for the ark of God, made him complain as one worn out by the troubles of his heart: 2 Cor. xi. 27, ‘In weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness. Besides those things that are without, that which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak?’ &c. For the Jews he had great heaviness and continual sorrow in his heart; and for the Gentiles he had perpetual fears, Rom. ix. 2. Now though he had a great share of divine comforts intermixed, and a more than ordinary assistance of the Spirit to keep him from sinful discomposure of spirit, at least to such a height as it ordinarily prevails upon others, yet was he very sensible of his burden, and doubtless the devil laboured to improve these occasions to weary out his strength. For by these and such like things he frequently vexeth the righteous souls of the faithful ministers of the gospel from day to day; so that their hearts have no rest, and their hands grow often feeble, and they cry out, Oh the burden! oh the care! being ready to say, as Jeremiah, chap. xx. 7, ‘O Lord, thou hast deceived me, and I was deceived: I am a derision daily, every one mocketh me.’ Thus say they, Did we ever think to meet with such disappointments, such griefs, from the wilfulness, pride, weakness, ignorance, pettishness, inconstancy, negligence, and scandals of friends? and such hatred, contradictions, scorns, and injuries from enemies? Were we free, what calling would we not rather choose? what place would we not rather go to, where we might spend the remainder of our days in some rest and ease? Were it not better to work with our hands for a morsel of bread? for so might our sleep be sweet to us at night, and we should not see these sorrows. At this rate are good men sometime disturbed, and the anguish of their spirit makes their life a burden.
[2.] Yet is not this all the disturbance that the devil works upon our hearts by these things, though these are bad enough, but they have a tendency to further trouble. Discomposures of spirit, if they continue long, turn at last into troubles of conscience. Though there is no affinity betwixt simple discomposure of soul and troubles of conscience in their own nature—the objects of the former being things external, no way relating to the soul’s interest in God and salvation, which are the objects of the latter—yet the effects produced by the prevalency of these disturbances are a fit stock for the engrafting of doubts and questionings about our spiritual condition. As Saul’s father first troubled himself for the loss of his asses, and sent his son to seek them; but when he stayed long, he forgot his trouble, and took up a new grief for his son, whom he feared he had lost in pursuit of the asses; so is it sometime with men, who, after they have long vexed themselves for injuries or afflictions, &c., upon a serious consideration of the working and power of these passions, leave their former pursuit, and begin to bethink themselves in what a condition their souls are, that abound with so much murmuring, rage, pride, or impatience, and then the scene is altered, and they begin to fear they have lost their souls, and are now perplexed about their spiritual estate. To make this plain I will give some instances, and then add some reasons, which will evidence that it is so, and also how it comes to be so.
For instances, though I might produce a sufficient number to this purpose from those that have written of melancholy, yet I shall only insist upon two or three from Scripture.
Hezekiah, when God smote him with sickness, at first was discomposed upon the apprehension of death, that he should so soon be deprived of the ‘residue of his years, and behold man no more with the inhabitants of the world,’ as he himself expresseth it, Isa. xxxviii. 10; afterward his trouble grew greater, ‘He chattered as a crane or swallow, and mourned as a dove;’ he was in ‘great bitterness,’ ver. 17; and sadly oppressed therewith, ver. 14. That which thus distressed him was not simply the fear of death. We cannot imagine so pious a person would so very much disquiet himself upon that single account; but by the expressions which he let fall in his complainings, we may understand that some such thoughts as these did shake him: that he apprehended God was angry with him, that the present stroke signified so much to him, all circumstances considered—for he was yet in his strength, and Jerusalem in great distress, being at that time besieged by Sennacherib’s army,[325] and for him to be doomed to death by a sudden message at such a time, seemed to carry much in it—and that surely there was great provocation on his part; and it seems, upon search, he charged himself so deeply with his sinfulness, that his apprehensions were no less than that, if God should restore him, yet in the sense of his vileness he should never be able to look up; ‘I shall go softly all my years in the bitterness of my soul,’ ver. 15; which expression implies a supposition of his recovery, and a deep sense of iniquity, and accordingly when he was recovered, he takes notice chiefly of God’s love to his soul and the pardon of his sin, which evidently discover where the trouble pinched him: ‘Thou hast in love to my soul delivered it from the pit of corruption, for thou hast cast all my sins behind thy back,’ ver. 17.
Job’s troubles were very great, and his case extraordinary. Satan had maliciously stripped him of all outward comforts; this he bore with admirable patience: Job i. 21, ‘Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’ The devil, seeing now himself defeated, obtains a new commission, wherein Job is wholly put into his hand—life only excepted, chap. ii. 9. He sets upon him again, and in his new encounter labours to bring upon him spiritual distresses, and accordingly improves his losses and sufferings to that end, as appears by his endeavours and the success; for as he tempted him by his wife to a desperate disregard of God that had so afflicted him, ‘Curse God and die,’ so he tempted him also by his friends to question the state of his soul and his integrity, and all from the consideration of his outward miseries. To that purpose are all their discourses. Eliphaz, chap. iv. 5-7, from his sufferings and his carriage under them, takes occasion to jeer his former piety, as being no other than feigned, ‘It is come upon thee, and thou faintest: is not this thy fear, thy confidence, thy hope, and the uprightness of thy ways?—that is, Is all thy religion come to this? and also concludes him to be wicked, ‘Who ever perished, being innocent? and where were the righteous cut off?’ Bildad, chap. viii. 6, 13, chargeth him with hypocrisy upon the same ground, and while he makes his defence, Zophar plainly gives him the lie, chap. xi. 3; and at this rate they go their round; and all this while Satan, whose design it was to afflict his conscience with the sense of divine wrath, secretly strikes in with these accusations, insomuch that though Job stoutly defended his integrity, yet he was wounded with inward distresses, and concluded that these dealings of God against him were no less than God’s severe observance of his iniquity; as is plain from his bemoaning himself in chap. x. 2, ‘I will say unto God, Do not condemn me: shew me wherefore thou contendest with me;’ ver. 16, 17, ‘Thou huntest me as a fierce lion, thou renewest thy witnesses against me,’ &c.
David was a man that was often exercised with sickness and troubles from enemies, and in all the instances almost that we meet with in the psalms of these his afflictions, we may observe the outward occasions of trouble brought him under the suspicion of God’s wrath and his iniquity; so that he was seldom sick, or persecuted, but this called on the disquiet of conscience, and brought his sin to remembrance; as Ps. vi., which was made on the occasion of his sickness, as appears from ver. 5, wherein he expresseth the vexation of his soul under the apprehension of God’s anger; all his other griefs running into this channel, as little brooks, losing themselves in a great river, change their name and nature. He that was at first only concerned for his sickness, is now wholly concerned with sorrow and smart under the fear and hazard of his soul’s condition; the like we may see in Ps. xxxviii. and many places more.
Having made good the assertion that discomposures of soul upon outward occasions, by long continuance and Satan’s management, do often run up to spiritual distress of conscience, I shall next, for further confirmation and illustration, shew how it comes to be so.
(1.) Discomposures of spirit do obstruct, and at last extinguish the inward comforts of the soul; so that if we suppose the discomposed person at first, before he be thus disordered, to have had a good measure of spiritual joy in God’s favour, and delight in his ways, yet the disturbances,
[1.] Divert his thoughts from feeding upon these comforts, or from the enjoyment of himself in them. The soul cannot naturally be highly intent upon two different things at once, but whatsoever doth strongly engage the thoughts and affections, that carries the whole stream with it, be it good or bad, and other things give way at present. When the heart is vehemently moved on outward considerations, it lays by the thoughts of its sweetness which it hath had in the enjoyment of God; they are so contrary and inconsistent, that either our comforts will chase out of our thoughts our discomposures, or our discomposures will chase away our comforts. I believe the comforts of Elias, when he lay down under his grief, and desired to die; and of Jeremiah, when he cried out of violence, run very low in those fits of discontent, and their spirits were far from an actual rejoicing in God. But this is not the worst; we may not so easily imagine that upon the going away of the fit, the wonted comforts return to their former course. For,
[2.] The mind being distracted with its burden, is left impotent and unable to return to its former exercise. The warmth which the heart had, being smothered and suspended in its exercise, is not so quickly revived, and the thoughts which were busied with disturbance, like the distempered humours of the body, are not reduced suddenly to that evenness of composure as may make them fit for their old employment. And,
[3.] If God should offer the influences of joyful support, a discomposed spirit is not in a capacity to receive them, no more than it can receive those counsels that by any careful hand are interposed for its relief and settlement. Comforts are not heard in the midst of noise and clamour. The calmness of the soul’s faculties are presupposed as a necessary qualification towards its reception of a message of peace. Phinehas his wife being overcome of grief for the ark’s captivity and her husband’s death, could not be affected with the joyful news of a son, [1 Sam. iv. 19, seq.] But,
[4.] Sinful discomposures hinder these gracious and comfortable offers; if we could possibly, which we cannot ordinarily, receive them, yet we cannot expect that God will give them. The Spirit of consolation loves to take up his lodging in a ‘meek and quiet spirit,’ and nothing more grieves him than bitterness, wrath, anger, clamour, and malice, which made the apostle, Eph. iv. 30, 31, subjoin his direction of ‘putting these away’ from us, with his advice of ‘not grieving the Spirit by which we are sealed unto the day of redemption.’ And then,
[5.] The former stock of comfort, which persons distempered with discomposures might be supposed to have, will soon be wasted, for our comforts are not like the oil in the cruse, or meal in the barrel, which had, as it were, their spring in themselves. We are comforted and supported by daily communication of divine aid, so that if the spring-head be stopped, the stream will quickly grow dry. It is evident then that inward consolations in God will not ripen under these shadows, nor grow under these continual droppings, seeing a discomposed spirit is not capable to receive more, nor able to keep what comfort it had at first. We may easily see how it comes to pass that these disturbances may in time bring on spiritual troubles; for if our comforts be once lost, trouble of conscience easily follows. Where there is nothing to fortify the heart, the poison of malicious suggestions will unavoidably prevail.
(2.) Discomposures of soul afford the devil fit matter to work upon. They furnish him with strong objections against sincerity of holiness, by which the peace of conscience, being strongly assaulted, is at last overthrown. The usual weapons by which Satan fights against the assurance of God’s children, are the guilt of sins committed and the neglect of duty; and the disturbed soul affords enough of both these to make a charge against itself: for,
[1.] Where there is much discomposure there is much sin. If in the multitude of words there wants not iniquity, then much more in the multitude of unruly thoughts. A disturbed spirit is like troubled water; all the mud that lay at the bottom is raised up and mixeth itself with the thoughts. If any injury or loss do trouble the mind, all the thoughts are tinctured with anger, pride, impatience, or whatsoever root of bitterness was in the heart before. We view them not singly as the issues of wise providence, but ordinarily we consider them as done by such instruments, and against ourselves, as malicious, spiteful, causeless, ungrateful wrongs; and then we give too great a liberty to ourselves to rage, to meditate revenge, to threaten, to reproach, and what not. And if our disposition have not so strong a natural inclination to these distempers, yet the thoughts by discomposure are quickly leavened. It is the comparison used by the apostle, 1 Cor. v. 8, to express the power of malice, which is a usual attendant in this service, to infect all the imaginations with a sharpness, which makes them swell into exorbitancy and excess; hence proceed revilings, quarrellings, &c. When the tongue is thus fermented, it is ‘a fire, a world of iniquity,’ producing more sins than can be reckoned, ‘it defileth the whole body,’ engaging all the faculties in heady pursuit, James iii. 6.
[2.] Discomposures obstruct duties. This is the inconvenience which the apostle, 1 Pet. iii. 7, tells us doth arise from disturbances among relations. If the wife or husband do not carry well, so that discontents or differences arise, their prayers are hindered. Duties then are obstructed, 1. In the act. When the heart is out of frame, prayer is out of season, and there is an averseness to it; partly because all good things are, in such confusions, burdensome to the humour that then prevails, which eats out all desire and delight to spiritual things; and partly because they dare not come into God’s presence, conscious of their own guilt, and awe of God hindering such approaches. 2. They obstruct the right manner of performance, straitening the heart and contracting the spirit, that if anything be attempted it is poorly and weakly performed, 3. And also the success of duty is obstructed by discomposure. God will not accept such services, and therefore Christ adviseth to ‘leave the gift before the altar,’ though ready for offering, where the spirit is overcharged with offences or angry thoughts, and ‘first to go and be reconciled to our brother,’ and then to ‘come and offer the gift,’ it being lost labour to do it before, [Mat. v. 24.] From these sins of omission and commission Satan can, and often doth, frame a dreadful charge against those that are thus concerned, endeavouring to prove by these evidences that they are yet, notwithstanding pretence of conversion, in ‘the gall of bitterness and bond of iniquity,’ [Acts viii. 23,] whereby the peace of conscience is much shaken; and the more because also,
[3.] These discomposures of soul give Satan a fit season for the management of his accusation. Strong accusations do often effect nothing when the season is unsuitable. Many a time he hath as much to say against the comforts of men, when yet they shake all off, as Paul did the viper off his hand, and feel no harm, [Acts xxviii. 3.] But that which prepares the conscience to receive the indictment is a particular disposition which it is wrought into by suspicious credulity and fearfulness. These make the heart, as wax to the seal, ready to take any impression that Satan will stamp upon it. Now, by long disturbances, he works the heart into this mould very often, and upon a double account he gains himself a fit opportunity to charge home his exceptions. 1. In that he sets upon the conscience with his accusations after the heart hath been long molested and confused with its other troubles; for then the heart is weakened, and unable to make resistance as at other times. An assault with a fresh party after a long conflict disorders its forces, and puts all to flight. 2. In that long and great discomposures of mind bring on a distemper of melancholy; for it is notoriously known by common experience that those acid humours producing this distemper, which have their rise from the blood, may be occasioned by their violent passions of mind, the animal spirits becoming inordinate by long discomposures of sadness, envy, terror, and fretful cares, and the motion of the blood being retarded, it by degrees departs from its temperament, and is infected with an acidity, so that persons no way inclined naturally to melancholy may yet become so by the disquiets of their troubled mind.
Both these ways, but chiefly melancholy, the devil hath his advantage for disturbing the conscience. Melancholy most naturally inclines men to be solicitous for their souls’ welfare; but withal disposeth them so strongly to suspect the worst—for it is a credulous, suspicious humour in things hurtful—and afflicts so heavily with sadness for what it doth respect, that when Satan lays before men of that humour their miscarriages under their discontents, their impatience, unthankfulness, anger, rash thoughts, and speeches against God or men, &c., withal suggesting that such a heart cannot be right with God, after serious thoughts upon Satan’s frequently repeated charge, they cry out, Guilty, guilty; and then begins a new trouble for their unregenerate estate, and their supposed lost souls.
[4.] In this case usually Satan hath greater liberty to accuse, and by his accusations to molest the conscience, in that men of discomposed spirits, by the manifold evils arising thence, provoke God to desert them, and to leave them in Satan’s hand to be brought into an hour of temptation. Satan’s commission is occasioned by our provocations, and the temptations arising from such a commission are usually dreadful. They are solemn temptations, and called so after a singular manner; for of these I take those scriptures to be meant, ‘Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation, Mat. xxvi. 41; ‘And lead us not into temptation,’ Mat. vi. 13. Such temptations are not common temptations, and are of unknown force and hazard to the soul, which way soever they are designed, either for sin or terror. For several things do concur in a solemn temptation. As, 1. Satan doth in a special manner challenge a man to the combat, or rather he challenges God to give him such a man to fight with him, as he did concerning Job. This Christ tells us of, Luke xxii. 31, ‘Simon, Satan hath desired to have you.’ The word signifies a challenging or daring—ἐξαιτεῖσθαι; and it seems the devil is oft daring God to give us into his hand, when we little know of it. 2. There is also a special suitableness of occasion and snare to the temper and state of men. Thus he took Peter at an advantage in the high priest’s hall; and in the case we now speak of he takes advantage of men’s provocations and melancholy. 3. There is always a violent prosecution, which our Saviour expresseth under the comparison of sifting, which is a restless agitation of the corn, bringing that which was at the bottom to the top, and shuffling the top to the bottom, so that the chaff or dirt is always uppermost. 4. And to all this there is divine permission, Satan let loose, and we left to our ordinary strength, as is implied in that expression, ‘He hath desired to have you that he might sift you.’ Now then, if the devil have such ground to give God a challenge concerning such men, and if God do, as he justly may, leave such men, whose bitterness of spirit hath been as ‘a smoke in his nostrils all the day,’ [Isa. lxv. 5,] in Satan’s hand, he will so shake them that their consciences shall have no rest. And this he can yet the more easily effect, because,
[5.] Discomposures of spirit have a particular tendency to incline our thoughts to severity and harshness, so that those who have had long and great disturbances upon any outward occasions—of loss, affliction, or disappointment, &c.—do naturally think, after a solemn review of such troubles, harshly of God and of themselves. They are ready to conclude that God is surely angry with them in that he doth afflict them, or that they have unsanctified hearts in that their thoughts are so fretful and unruly upon every inconsiderable petty occasion. It is so ordinary for men under the weight of their trouble, or under the sense of their sin, to be sadly apprehensive of God’s wrath and their soul’s hazard, that it were needless to offer instances: let David’s case be instead of all. That his troubles begot such imaginations frequently, may be seen throughout the book of the Psalms. We never read his complaints against persecuting enemies, or for other afflictions, but still his heart is afraid that God is calling sin to remembrance. In Ps. xxxviii. he is under great distress, and tells how low his thoughts were: he was ‘troubled,’ greatly ‘bowed down;’ he ‘went mourning all the day long;’ he expresseth his thoughts to have been that ‘God had forsaken him,’ ver. 21: and his hopes, though they afterward revived, were almost gone; he cries out of his sins as having ‘gone over his head,’ and become ‘a burden too heavy for him,’ ver. 4, and therefore sets himself to confess them, ver. 18. He trembles at God’s anger, and feels the ‘arrows of God sticking fast in him,’ ver. 2. But what occasioned all this? The psalm informs us, God had visited him with sickness, ver. 7. Besides that—for one trouble seldom comes alone—his friends were perfidious, ver. 11; his enemies also were busy laying snares for his life, ver. 12. Now his thoughts were to this purpose, that surely he had some way or other greatly provoked God by his sins, and therefore he fears wrath in every rebuke, and displeasure in every chastisement, ver. 1. The like you may see in Ps. cii., where the prophet upon the occasion of sickness, ver. 3, 23, and the reproach of enemies, ver. 8, is under great trouble, and ready to fail except speedy relief prevent, ver. 2: the reason whereof was this, that he concluded these troubles were evident tokens of God’s indignation and wrath; ‘because of thine indignation and thy wrath,’ ver. 10. From these five particulars we may be satisfied that it cannot be otherwise, and also how it comes to be so, that sometime trouble of conscience is brought on by other discomposing troubles of the mind. For if these take away the comforts which supported the soul, and afford also arguments to the devil to prove a wicked heart, and withal ‘a fit season’ to urge them to a deep impression, God in the meantime standing ‘at a distance,’ and the thoughts naturally inclined to conclude God’s wrath from these troubles, how impossible is it that Satan should miss of disquieting the conscience by his strong, vehement suggestions of wickedness and desertion!
In our inquiries after Satan’s success in working these discomposures of mind, we have discovered, 1. That the disturbances thence arising are great; 2. That they have a tendency to trouble of conscience. There is but one particular more to be spoken of, relating to his success in this design, and that is,
(3.) These disturbances are much in Satan’s power. Ordinarily he can do it at pleasure, except when God restrains him from applying fit occasions, or when, notwithstanding these occasions, he extraordinarily suspends the effect, which he frequently doth when men are enraged under suffering upon the account of the gospel and conscience; for then, though they be bound up under affliction and iron, yet the ‘iron enters not into the soul;’ though they are troubled, they are not distressed. These extraordinaries excepted, he can as easily discompose the spirits of men as he can by temptation draw them into other sins; which may be evidenced by these considerations:
[1.] We may observe that those whose passionate tempers do usually transport them into greater vehemencies, are never out of trouble. Their fits frequently return, they are never out of the fire, and this is because Satan is still provided of occasions suitable to their inclinations.
[2.] Though God, out of his common bounty to mankind, hath allowed him a comfortable being in the world, yet we find that generally the sons of men, under their various occupations and studies, are wearied out with vexations of spirit. This Solomon, in Ecclesiastes, discovers at large in various employments of men, not exempting the pursuit of wisdom and knowledge: chap. i. 18, ‘In much wisdom is much grief; and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow:’ nor pleasures nor riches, for by all these he shews that a man is obnoxious to disquiets; so that the general account of man’s life is but this: chap. ii. 23, ‘All his days are sorrows, and his travail grief; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the night.’ That it is so, is testified by common experience past denial; but how it comes to be so, is the inquiry. It is either from God, or from Satan working by occasions upon our tempers. That it is not from God, is evident; for though sorrow be a part of that curse which man was justly doomed unto, yet hath he appointed ways and means by which it might be so mitigated that it might be tolerable without discomposure of spirit; and therefore Solomon, designing in his Ecclesiastes to set forth the chief good, shews that felicity consists not in the common abuse of outward things, because that brings only vexation, but in the fear of God leading to future happiness, and in the meantime in a thankful, comfortable use of things present without anxiety of mind. Hence doth he fix his conclusion, as the result of his experience, and often repeats it: ‘There is nothing better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour,’ chap. ii. 24, iii. 12, 13, and v. 18, 19. Not that Solomon plays the epicure, giving advice ‘to eat and drink, for to-morrow we die,’ nor that he speaks deridingly to those that seek their felicity in this life, as if he should say, ‘If ye do terminate your desires upon a terrene felicity, there is nothing better than to eat and drink,’ &c. But he gives a serious positive advice of enjoying the things of this life with cheerfulness, which he affirms proceeds from the sole bounty of God as his singular gift: ‘It is the gift of God,’ chap. iii. 13; ‘it is our portion’—that is, our allowance, chap. v. 19, for these two expressions, ‘our portion,’ and ‘God’s gift,’ they are of the same signification with Solomon here; and when a man hath power to enjoy this allowance in comfort, it is God that ‘answereth him in the joy of his heart,’ ver. 20. It is plain, then, that God ‘sows good seed in his field;’ the springing up, therefore, of these tares of vexation, which so generally afflict the sons of men, must be ascribed to this, ‘the enemy hath done it,’ [Mat. xiii. 28.]
[3.] It is also a considerable ground of suspicion that Satan can do much in discomposures of spirit, in that sometimes those whose tempers are most cool and calm, and whose singular dependence upon, and communion with God, must needs more strengthen them against these passionate vexations, are notwithstanding precipitated into violent commotions. Moses was naturally meek above the common disposition of men, and his very business was converse with God, whose presence kept his heart under a blessed awe; yet, upon the people’s murmuring, he was so transported with sullenness and unbelief, at the waters of Meribah, Num. xx. 10-12, that ‘it went ill with him;’ which David thus expresseth, Ps. cvi. 33, ‘They provoked his spirit, so that he spake unadvisedly with his lips.’ Who can suppose less in this matter than that Satan, having him at advantage, hurried him to this rashness—specially seeing such vehemencies were not usual with Moses, and that his natural temper led him to the contrary? This hath some affinity with the next consideration, which is,
[4.] That when men most foresee the occasions of their trouble, and do most fear the trouble that might thence arise, and most firmly design to keep their hearts quiet, yet are they oft forced, against all care and resolution, upon extravagant heats. David resolved and strenuously endeavoured to possess his soul in serenity and patience;—for what could be more than that solemn engagement? Ps. xxxix. 1, ‘I said I will look to my ways;’ and what endeavours could be more severe than to keep himself ‘as with bit and bridle’? what care could be more hopeful to succeed than to be ‘dumb with silence’?—yet for all this he could not keep his heart calm nor restrain his tongue: ver. 3, ‘My heart waxed hot within me; while I was musing the fire burned: then spake I with my tongue.’ Who suspects not the hand of Satan in this?
[5.] It is also remarkable, that when we have least reason to give way to discomposure, when we have most cause to avoid all provocations, yet then we have most occasions set before us. When we would most retire from the noise of the world for private devotion, when we would most carefully prepare ourselves for a solemn ordinance, if we be not very watchful, we shall be diverted by business, disturbed with noises, or some special occasion of vexation shall importune us to disquiet ourselves—when yet we shall observe, if we have not these solemn affairs to wait upon, we shall have fewer of these occasions of vexation to attend us. This cannot be attributed to mere contingency of occasions, nor yet to our tempers solely; for why they should be most apt to give us trouble when they are most engaged to calmness, cannot well be accounted for. It is evidently, then, Satan that maliciously directs these occasions—for they have not a malicious ingenuousness to prepare themselves, without some other chief mover—at such times as he knows would be most to our prejudice.
These general considerations amount to more than a suspicion, that it is much in Satan’s power to give disturbances to the minds of men; yet, for the clearer manifestation of the matter, I shall shew that he can do much to bring about occasions of discomposure, and also to stir up the passions of men upon these occasions.
1. That occasions are much in his hand, I shall easily demonstrate. For,
First, There being so many occasions of vexation to a weak, crazy mind, we may well imagine that one or other is still occurring; and while they thus offer themselves, Satan needs not be idle for want of an opportunity.
Second, But if common occasions do not so exactly suit his design, he can prepare occasions; for such is his foresight and contrivance, that he can put some men—without their privity to his intentions, or any evil design of their own—upon such actions as may, through the strength of prejudice, misinterpretation, or evil inclination, be an offence to others; and, in like manner, can invite those to be in the way of these offences. I am ready to think there was a contrivance of Satan—if we well consider all circumstances—to bring David and the object of his lust together; while Bathsheba was bathing, he might use his art in private motions to get David up to the roof of his house. But more especially can the devil prepare occasions that do depend upon the wickedness of his slaves; these are servants under his command, he can ‘say to one, Go, and he goes; and to another, Come, and he comes.’ If contempt or injury, affronts or scorns, &c., be necessary for his present work against any whom he undertakes to disturb, he can easily put his vassals upon that part of the service; and if he have higher employment for them, he ever finds them forward. And hence was it, that when Satan designed to plunder Job, he could quickly perform it, because he had the Chaldeans and Sabeans ready at a call.
Third, If both these should fail him, he can easily awaken in us the memory of old occasions that have been heretofore a trouble to us. These being raised out of their graves will renew old disturbances, working afresh the same disquiets which the things themselves gave us at first.
If Satan’s power were bounded here, and that he could do no more than set before men occasions of vexation, yet we might justly, on that single account, call him the troubler of the spirits of men; considering that naturally the thoughts of men are restless, and their imaginations ever rolling. If men sequester themselves from all business, if they shut themselves up from commerce with men, turn Eremites—as Jerome did—on purpose to avoid disquiet, yet their thoughts would hurry them from place to place, sometimes to the court, sometimes to the market, sometimes to shows and pastimes, sometimes to quarrellings; sometimes they view fields, buildings, and countries; sometimes they fancy dignities, promotions, and honours; they are ever working upon one object or other, real or supposed, and according to the object such will the affections be, high or low, joyful or sorrowful; so that if the utmost of what Satan could do were no more than to provide occasions, discomposures would follow naturally. The evil dispositions of men would thereby be set a-working, though Satan stood by as an idle spectator. The serpent—in our breasts, as Solomon tells us, Eccles. x. 11—would ‘bite without enchantment,’ that is, except it were charmed. But Satan can do more than tempt objectively, when he hath provided the fuel he can also bring fire. For,
2. He can also set our passions on work, and incense them to greater fury than otherwise they would arrive at. We see persons that are distempered with passion may be whetted up to a higher pitch of rage by any officious flatterer, that will indulge the humour and aggravate the provocation. Much more then can Satan do it by whispering such things to our minds as he knows will increase the flame; and therefore is it, that where the Scripture doth caution us against anger—as the proper product of our own corruption, calling it our wrath, Eph. iv. 26, 27—there also it warns us against the devil, as the incendiary, that endeavours to heighten it. And where it tells us of the disorders of the tongue,—which, though a little member, can of itself do great mischief, James iii. 6—there it also tells us that the devil brings it an additional fire from hell: ‘It is set on fire of hell.’ And there are several ways by which Satan can irritate the passions. As,
[1.] By presenting the occasions worse than they are, or were ever intended, unjustly aggravating all circumstances. By this means he makes the object of the passions the more displeasing and hateful. This must of necessity provoke to a higher degree.
[2.] He can in a natural way move, as it were, the wheels, and set the passions a-going, if they were of themselves more dull and sluggish, for he hath a nearer access to our passions than every one is aware of. I will make it evident thus: our passions in their workings do depend upon the fluctuations, excursions, and recursions of the blood and animal spirits, as naturalists do determine.[326] Now that Satan can make his approaches to the blood, spirits, and humours, and can make alterations upon them, cannot be denied by those that consider what the Scripture speaks in Job’s case, and in the cases of those that were by possession of the devil made dumb, deaf, or epileptic; for if he could afflict Job with grievous boils, chap. ii. 7, it is plain he disordered and vitiated his blood and humours, which made them apt to produce such boils or ulcers; and if he could produce an epilepsy, it is evident that he could infect the lympha with such a sharpness as by vellicating the nerves might cause a convulsion; and these were much more than the disorderly motions of blood, spirits, or humours, which raise the passions of men. If any object to this, that then, considering Satan’s malicious diligence, we must expect the passions of men would never be at rest; it is answered, that this power of Satan is not unlimited, but oft God prohibits him such approaches, and without his leave he can do nothing; and also grace in God’s children, working calmness, submission, and patience, doth balance Satan’s contrary endeavour. For as hurtful and vexatious occasions, being represented by the sense to the imagination, are apt to move the blood and spirits; so, on the contrary, the ballast of patience and other graces doth so settle the mind, that the blood and spirits are kept steady in their usual course.
[3.] When the passions are up, Satan can by his suggestions make them more heady and violent. He can suggest to the mind motives and arguments to forward it, and can stir up our natural corruption, with all its powers, to strike in with the opportunity. Thus he not only kindles the fire, but blows the flame.
[4.] And he can further fix the mind upon these thoughts, and keep them still upon the hearts of men. And then they eat in the deeper, and like poison diffuse their malignity the further. We see that men, who are at first but in an ordinary fret, if they continue to meditate upon their provocation, they increase their vexation; and if they give themselves to vent their passions by their tongues, though they begin in some moderation, yet as motion causeth heat, so their own words whet their rage, according to Eccles. x. 13, ‘The beginning of the words of his mouth is foolishness, but the latter end of his talk is mischievous madness.’ The same advantage hath Satan against men by holding down their thoughts to these occasions of discomposure.
If occasions be so much in Satan’s power, and he have also so great a hand over men’s passions, it is too evident that he can do very much to discompose the spirits of men that are naturally obnoxious to these troubles, except God restrain him, and grace oppose him. Thus have I spoken my thoughts of the first sort of troubles, by which Satan doth undermine the peace of men’s hearts.
Chapter VII
Of the second way to hinder peace.—Affrightments, the general nature and burden of them, in several particulars.—What are the ways by which he affrights: 1. Atheistical injections. Observations of his proceeding in them; 2. Blasphemous thoughts; 3. Affrightful suggestions of reprobation. Observations of his proceedings in that course; 4. Frightful motions to sin; 5. Strong immediate impressions of fear; 6. Affrightful scrupulosity of conscience.
The next rank of troubles by which the devil doth endeavour to molest us, I call affrightments. It is usual for those that speak of temptations, to distinguish them thus: Some are, they say, enticements, some are affrightments; but then they extend these affrightments further than I intend, comprehending under them all those temptations of sadness and terror, of which I am next to speak. But by affrightments, I mean only those perplexities of spirit into which Satan casts men, by overacting their fears, or astonishing their minds, by injecting unusual and horrid thoughts against their consents.[327] Some there are that have thought those temptations, of which the apostle complains, 2 Cor. xii. 7, ‘There was given me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me,’ were of this kind—that is, horrid injections frequently repeated, as men deal their blows in fighting. Gerson, speaking of these, tells us they sometime come from the sole suggestion of Satan troubling the fancy, and saying, Deny God, curse God; and then adds, such was the thorn in the flesh given to the apostle.[328] But whether this was the trouble of the apostle, or some other thing—for several things are conjectured, and nothing can be positively proved—we are sure, from the sad experience of many, that such troubles he doth often give; which I shall first explain in the general, and then give a particular of these frightful injections.
1. To explain the nature and burden of this kind of trouble, I shall present you with a few observations about them. As,
[1.] These astonishing thoughts are purely injections, such as Satan casts into the mind, and not what the mind of itself doth produce; as one expresseth it, they are more darting than reflecting. Not but that our natural corruption could of itself beget blasphemous or atheistical thoughts; but when they have their rise from ourselves solely, they do not so startle us. Having some share at least of our consent going along with them, they appear not so strange. But in this case in hand, Satan is the agent, and men are the sufferers, their understandings and souls being busied all the while to repel them, with the utmost of their reluctances. And to those that do thus strive against them, making resistance with all their strength, with tears and prayers, they are only their afflictions, but not their sins. For the thoughts are not polluted by the simple apprehension of a sinful object, no more than the eye is defiled by beholding loathsome and filthy things; for then should the mind of Christ have been defiled, when Satan propounded himself blasphemously as the object of his worship; his mind as truly apprehended the meaning of that saying, ‘fall down and worship me,’ as ours can do, when he casts such a thing immediately into our thoughts. Which is a consideration to be observed diligently by those that meet with such sad exercise. If they do truly apprehend that they are but their sufferings, and that God will not charge the sin upon them, they will more easily bear and overcome the trouble.
These injections are commonly impetuous and sudden, frequently compared to lightning; and this is usually made a note of distinction betwixt wicked, blasphemous thoughts rising from our natural corruption, and darted in by Satan; the former being more leisurely, orderly, and moderate, according to the usual course of the procedure of human thoughts, the latter usually accompanied with a hasty violence, subtly and incoherently shooting into our understandings, as lightning into a house; so that all the strength we have can neither prevent them nor expel them, nor so much as mitigate the violence of them.
[3.] They are also for the most part incessant and constant troublers where they once begin. Though Satan hath variety, in regard of the matter of these amazing injections—for sometimes he affrights one man with blasphemous thoughts, another with atheistical thoughts, a third with grievous, unusual temptations to sin, as murder, &c.—yet usually he fixeth his foot upon what he first undertakes. And as cunning huntsmen do not change their game that they first rouse, that they may sooner speed in catching the prey; so what frightful thought Satan begins the trouble with, that he persists in, and is withal so vehement in his pursuit, that he gives little intermission. He makes these unwelcome thoughts haunt them like ghosts, whithersoever they go, whatsoever they do; he will give solemn onsets it may be twenty or forty times in a day: and at this rate he continues, it may be for some considerable time, so that they are not quit of the trouble for several months, or it may be years.
[4.] The matter of these affrightments are things most contrary to the impressions of nature or grace, and therefore most odious and troublesome. When he is upon this design, things that are most contrary to the belief and inclination of men are best for his purpose; as men that intend to affright others choose the most ugly vizors, the strangest garbs and postures, and make the most uncouth, inhuman noises; and the more monstrous they appear, the better they succeed in their purposes. Yet Satan doth not always choose the very worst, for then most of the troubles of this kind would be about the same thing; but he considers the strength of our persuasions, our establishment in truths, the probability or improbability of an after game with us; and accordingly sometimes refuseth to trouble us with injections, contrary to what we are most firmly rooted in, choosing rather that which, though contrary to our thoughts and resolves, we have not been fixed in without a great deal of labour, and which, if there be occasion, might most fitly be charged upon us as our own, so that, whereas other suggestions would be slighted as apparent malice and scarecrows, these are most afflicting, as being an assault against such a fort which costs us much to rear, and which we are most afraid to lose, and most liable to his accusation after a long continuance, as being the issue of our own unsettledness.
[5.] The first and most obvious effects of these injections are the utmost abhorrency of the mind—which presently startles at the appearance of such odious things—and the trembling of the body, sometimes to an agony and fainting. The invasion of one single injection hath put some into such a heart-breaking affrightment, that they have not recovered themselves in a whole day’s time. This trembling of the body and agony of the mind are the usual consequences of anything that is surprising, strange, and fearful; and therefore is trembling of the body made by divines a mark to discover that these hideous, blasphemous thoughts are cast in by Satan, and have not their rise from our own hearts; for the horror of the mind is usually so great, when it is spoken to in this language, that it cannot bear up under its astonishment and trouble. Yea, those very men that are otherwise profane, and can with boldness commit great iniquities, cannot but shake, and inwardly conceive an unspeakable hatred at these monstrous suggestions.[329]
[6.] These affrightments are more common than men are usually aware of. They are by some thought to be rare and extraordinary; but this mistake ariseth from the concealment of these kind of troubles. Those that are thus afflicted are often ashamed to speak to others what they find in their own hearts; but if all would be so ingenuous as to declare openly what fearful imaginations are obtruded upon them, it would appear that Satan very frequently endeavours to trouble men this way.
[7.] These are very grievous burdens, and hard to be borne upon many accounts.
First, Who can well express the inward torture and molestation of the mind, when it is forced against its own natural bent and inclination to harbour such monsters within itself! How would nature reluct and abominate the drinking down of noisome puddled water, or the swallowing of toads and serpents! And hence was it that persecutors in their devilish contrivances invented such kind of tortures. And what less doth the devil do when he forceth blasphemies upon their thoughts, and commits a rape by a malicious violence upon their imaginations? David, under these temptations, Ps. lxxiii. 21, cries out, ‘Thus my heart was grieved, and I was pricked in my reins:’ and it cannot be otherwise, for the reason already mentioned. Nature abhors to be forced to what is most contrary to itself, and so doth grace. Now the things by which Satan works these affrightments are contrary to nature or grace, or both together; and as they will strive to the utmost of their ability to cast out what is so opposite to them, so must the devil to the utmost of his ability, if he would carry his design, strengthen himself in his force, and from hence, as when fire and water are committed together, ariseth a most troublesome conflict; and indeed if there were a compliance of our consent, there would be no affrightment; neither can this kind of temptation be managed except there be the utmost dissent of the mind. If any think there is no great ground for these temptations, because some of the particulars by which he is said to affright men are natural to us, as, for instance, atheistical thoughts, which are by some called the master-vein of our original corruption, and by others said to be in the heart of every man naturally, and then consequently not so troublesome as is imagined, &c.; I answer, that when divines call these or blasphemous thoughts natural, they do not mean that they are natural impressions engraven on us by creation,—for they assert the contrary; that it is a natural and unextinguishable impression upon every man that there is a God, &c., and usually give in this for proof, that the greatest atheists in fear and extremity will manifest a secret belief of a deity, by calling out, O God, &c.,[330] or by some other posture, as Caligula by hiding himself when it thundered,—but they mean only that our natural corruption may produce these thoughts, and that they are the natural issues thereof; and therefore Perkins, in answer to a question of this nature, tells us that these two thoughts, ‘there is a God,’ and ‘there is no God,’ may be, and are both, in the same heart.[331] Now as this will give us the reason why Satan doth make choice of these thoughts to trouble us withal, which may also rise from ourselves—which I have hinted before, and shall presently again touch upon—so it tells us still that whether these thoughts arise from our own corruption or from Satan, our natural impressions are strong against them, and withal that they cannot be so affrightful but when Satan doth manage them, and when the contrary impressions of nature are awakened to give strong resistance, and then that struggling must be as the tearing of our bowels, and still the worse in that we are incessantly pursued, Satan still casting back with unwearied labour the same thoughts as they are repulsed and rejected, as soldiers that besiege cities use to cast over the walls their fired grenades.
Second, These are also grievous, as they set the mind upon the rack, and stretch it under laborious and doubtful inquiries after the grounds or causes of this kind of trouble, for the heart, astonished with such cursed guests against his will, presently reflects upon God and itself What have I done, and wherefore am I thus disquieted with monsters? Why doth the righteous Lord suffer Satan to break open my heart, and fill me with such fearful thoughts? But when men’s inquiries are not so high, but detained in a consideration of the nature of the trouble and manner of its working, without looking up to the providence of God, then are their troubles increased.
Third, As these injections necessitate men, in their own defence, to oppose and every way to resist, it is an increase of the burden. What pleadings are they put to, what defiances, what endeavours to call off the thoughts! and all to little purpose; while the trouble continues they are forced to lie in their armour, and to be constantly in their ward.
Fourth, And yet are they further troublesome in the after-game that Satan plays by these thoughts. It is not all of his design to affright men, but he usually hath another temptation to come in the rear of this, and that is to turn these affrightments into accusations, and by urging them long upon the hearts of men, to make them believe that they are their own thoughts, the issues of their own natural corruption; and after men are by continual assaults weakened, their senses and memory dulled, their understanding confounded, &c., they easily conclude against themselves. The tempter imputes all the horrid blasphemy to them, boldly calls them guilty of all; and because their thoughts have dwelt long upon such a subject, and withal knowing that corrupt nature of itself will lead men to such horrid blasphemies or villainies—which makes it probable that it might be their own fault, and for this reason Satan makes choice of such injections as may in the accusation seem most likely to be true—being strongly charged as guilty, they yield; and then begins another trouble more fearful than the former.[332] Oh, what sad thoughts have they then of themselves, as the most vile blasphemous wretches! Sometimes they think that it is impossible that other men’s hearts should entertain such intolerable things within them as theirs, and that none was ever so bad as they; sometimes they think that if men knew what vile imaginations and monstrous things are in their minds, they would in very zeal to God and religion stone them, or at least exclude them from all commerce with men; sometimes they think their sin to be the sin against the Holy Ghost; sometimes they think God is engaged in point of honour to shew upon them some remarkable judgment, and they verily look for some fearful stroke to confound them, and live under such a frightful expectation. These and many more to this purpose are their thoughts, so that these temptations are every way troublesome, both in their first and second effects.
Thus I have in the general expressed the nature of these affrightments. What the particular injections are by which he studies to affright men, I shall next declare. They are principally six:
1. Atheistical thoughts. By injecting these into the mind he doth exceedingly affright men, and frequently for that end doth he suggest that there is no God, and that the Scriptures are but delusive contrivances, &c. Concerning these I shall note a few things; as,
[1.] Though there be an observable difference betwixt atheistical injections and temptations to atheism, not only in the design—Satan chiefly intending seduction in the latter, and affrightment by the former—but also in the manner of proceeding—(for when he designs chiefly to tempt to atheism, he first prepares his way by debauching the conscience with vicious or negligent living,—according to Ps. xiv. 1, that which makes men ‘say in their hearts there is no God,’ is this, that ‘they are corrupt, and have done abominable works’—and in this method was famous Junius tempted to atheism: but when he chiefly intends to affright, he sets upon men that by a watchful and strict conversation cut off from him that advantage)—yet he doth so manage himself that he can turn his course either way, as he finds probability of success after trial; for he presseth on upon men most where he finds them most to yield, so that those who were but at first affrighted may at last be solemnly persuaded and urged to believe the suggestion to be true if they give him any encouragement for such a procedure.[333]
[2.] Contemplative heads and great searchers are usually most troubled in this manner, partly because they see more difficulties than other men, and are more sensible of human inability to resolve them, and partly because God, who will not suffer his children to be tempted ‘above what they are able,’ doth not permit Satan to molest the weaker sort of Christians with such dangerous assaults.
[3.] Persons of eminent and singular holiness may be, and often are, troubled with atheistical thoughts, and have sad conflicts about them, Satan labouring, where he cannot prevail for a positive entertainment of atheism, at least to disquiet their minds by haunting them with his injections, if not to weaken their assent to these fundamental truths, in which he sometimes so prevails, that good men have publicly professed that they have found it a harder matter to believe that there is a God than most do imagine.
[4.] Satan lies at the catch in this design, and usually takes men at the advantage, suddenly setting upon them, either in the height of their meditations and inquiries into fundamental truths—for when they soar aloft, and puzzle themselves with a difficulty, then is he at hand to advise them to cut the knot which they cannot unloose—or in the depth of their troubles—for when men cannot reconcile the daily afflictions and sufferings which they undergo, with the love and care of God toward his children, then it is Satan’s season to tell them that there is no supreme disposer of things. In both these cases the devil leaps upon them unawares, like a robber out of a thicket, who, if he do not wound them by the dart of atheistical injection, at least he is sure to astonish them, and to confound them with amazement. For,
[5.] Sometimes he pursues with wonderful violence, and will dispute with admirable subtlety, urging the inequality of providence, the seeming contradictions of Scripture, the unsuitableness of ordinances to an infinite wisdom and goodness, with many more arguments of like kind; and this with such unexpected acuteness and seeming demonstration, that the most holy hearts and wisest heads shall not readily know what to answer, but shall be forced to betake themselves to their knees, and to beg of God that he would rebuke Satan, and uphold them that their faith fail not. Nay, he doth not only dispute, but by urging, and with unspeakable earnestness threaping,[334] the conclusion upon men, doth almost force them to a persuasion, so that they are almost carried off their feet whether they will or no; which was the very case of David when the devil pursued him with atheistical thoughts on the occasion of the prosperity of wicked men, and his daily troubles: Ps. lxxiii. 2, ‘My feet were almost gone, my steps had well-nigh slipped.’
[6.] Yet for all this he sometimes lays aside his sophistical subtlety, and betakes himself to an impudent importunity; for sometimes he insists only on one argument, not changing that which he first took up, nor strengthening his suggestion with variety of arguments, but by frequent repetition of the same reason persists to urge his injected atheism. This gives no discovery of any deep reach if he designed to persuade—for it is scarce rational to imagine that serious men, who by many arguments are fully persuaded there is a God, should readily lose their hold upon the appearance of one objection—but it shews that he purposeth only to molest. And this appears more evidently, when he contents himself with weak and trivial arguments, which the afflicted party can answer fully, and yet cannot for all that quit themselves of the trouble; for instance, it is not very many years since a serious and pious person came to me, and complained that he could not be at rest for atheistical thoughts that perpetually haunted him; and upon a particular inquiry into the cause and manner of his trouble, he told me the first rise of it was from his observation, that I had interpreted some scriptures otherwise than he had heard some others to have done; but withal he added that he knew the reason of his perplexity was but silly, and that which he could easily answer; this being no just charge against the Scripture, whose sense and truth might for all that be one, and uniform to itself, but only an implication of human weakness appearing in the different apprehensions of expositors; yet notwithstanding he affirmed he could not shake off the trouble, and that his thoughts were ever urged with the same thing for a long time together. Nay, such is his impudency in this kind of trouble, that those who know it is the best way not to dispute fundamentals with Satan, but with abhorrency to reject him—after the example of Christ, with a ‘get thee behind me, Satan’—and accordingly do with their utmost strength reject them, yet they find that he doth not readily desist.
How sad is this trouble! how are pious persons affrighted to see the face of their thoughts made abominably ugly and deformed by these violent and unavoidable injections! It is not only wearisome to those that know it to be solely Satan’s malice, but it often proves to be an astonishing surprisal—like that of a traveller who, while he passeth on his way without foresight or thought of danger, is suddenly brought to the top of a great precipice, where, when he looks down to the vast deep below, his head swims, his heart pants, his knees tremble, and the very fear of the sudden danger so confounds him that he is through excessive dread ready to fall into that which he would avoid; so are these amazed at so great hazards before them. Satan could not by all his art prevail with them to abandon the holy ways of God in exchange for the pleasures of sin, and now they seem to be in danger to lose all at once; and yet it is more affrightful by far to those that charge, through Satan’s cunning, all this atheism upon themselves.
2. Another affrightful injection is that of blasphemous thoughts, as that God is not just, not compassionate; that scriptures and ordinances are but low and sorry things, &c.
That Satan doth delight to force such thoughts upon men, is evident,
[1.] From his nature. He is a blasphemous spirit, and withal so malicious, that whatsoever is in his cursed mind he will be ready to vent upon all occasions.
[2.] From his practice; for where he can obtain the rule over men’s imaginations, as in some distracted persons, and those that are distempered with fevers, he usually makes them vomit forth oaths, cursings, and blasphemies, and this he doth to some that, while they have had the use of their reason, have not been observed to give their tongue the liberty of swearing or cursed speaking.
[3.] From his professed design in the case of Job, concerning whom he boasted to God himself that he would make him curse him to his face, and accordingly tempted him by his wife to curse God and die.
[4.] From the sad experience of those that have suffered under this sad affliction: for many have complained of blasphemous thoughts; and those whom he cannot conquer he will thus trouble. Neither need we think it strange that the devil can impress blasphemies upon the imaginations of men against their wills, when we consider that he could make Saul, in his fits, to behave himself like an inspired person, and cause him to utter things beyond and unsuitable to his disposition, after the rate and manner of those raptures which idolatrous priests used to be transported withal. Bacchatur vates. [Virgil.][335] This, in 1 Sam. xviii. 10, is called Saul’s prophesying, when the ‘evil spirit from the Lord vexed him;’ and is the same with that which is spoken concerning Baal’s priests: 1 Kings xviii. 29, ‘They prophesied until the time of the offering of the evening sacrifice’—that is, they were exercised with trances and rapturous furies, in which they uttered strange sounds and speeches. How easily, then, may Satan possess the fancies of men with blasphemies! so that the unwilling may be troubled with them, and those that are deprived of the benefit of reason, may, from the power of the impression upon their imagination, vent them with a kind of unwillingness.
Melancholy persons do very frequently meet with this kind of trouble, Satan having a great power upon their imagination, and great advantages, from the darkness of that humour, to make the fear arising from such thoughts the more astonishing, and to delude them into an apprehension that they are guilty of all that passeth through their thoughts, and also to work this perplexity to more dismal effects. In these kind of men he doth play the tyrant with such injections, abusing them to such a height as if they were his vassals and slaves, whose thoughts and tongues were in his and not their own keeping; and so strongly doth he possess them with this perplexity sometimes, that all the counsels, reasonings, or advice of others cannot in the least satisfy or relieve them; yet, notwithstanding, I have known several under this affliction who, when by physic the state of their bodies hath been altered, have found themselves at ease immediately, the trouble gradually and insensibly ceasing of itself.
Others there are that have great vexation from these thoughts, and these are commonly such as by some long and grievous pain, sickness, or other crosses, have their spirits fretted and imbittered; then is Satan ready to suggest that God is cruel or regardless of his people; and these thoughts are the more dreadful because fretting and murmuring spirits have a natural tendency to think harshly of God; so that Satan in this case doth with the more boldness obtrude these suggestions upon them, finding so great a forwardness toward such imaginations, and also with greater severity he doth reflect upon them, as being in some likelihood compliant and consenting.
When other persons—not so concerned as these two sorts of men above mentioned—are assaulted with blasphemous thoughts, the fits are less permanent, and, because they easily discover the design and author of them, not highly affrightful, though still troublesome.
The burden of these injections are much like the former, very sadly afflicting. For who can easily bear the noise of Satan while he shouts continually into their ears odious calumnies and blasphemous indignities against God? David could not hear wicked men blaspheme God but it was ‘as a sword in his bones,’ exceeding painful. The impressions of nature, that teach us to revere and honour God; the power of education, that confirms these impressions; the persuasion of faith, that assures us of the reality and infinite excellency of a Godhead; and the force of love, that makes us more sensibly apprehensive of any injury or dishonour done to him whom we love above all;—all these do suffer by these violent incursions of Satan, and the sufferer finds himself to be pained and tortured in these noble parts. How grievous must it be to a child of God to have his ear chained to these intolerable, ingrateful reproaches!—especially when we consider that the devil will in this case utter the most dreadful blasphemies he can devise, which will still add to the affliction—for even those men that through habit can well bear ordinary petty oaths, will yet startle at outrageous prodigious swearing—and therefore whatever covert and consequential blasphemies may be to some men, these impudent, hideous abuses of the holy and just God must needs sadly trouble those that are forced to hear them. And the more constant the greater trouble. Who would not be weary of their lives that must be forced to undergo this vexation still without intermission? And yet the devil can advance the trouble a little higher by the apparatus or artificial[336] dread which he puts upon the temptation in the manner of the injection; as the roaring of the lion increaseth terror in the beasts of the field, who without that would tremble at his presence; and as the thundering and lightning at the giving of the law increased the fear of Israel, so when Satan is upon this design, he shakes as it were the house, and makes a noise that the fright may be increased.
3. Suspicious fears of being excluded out of God’s eternal decree of election is another of his affrightments. This is when Satan boldly takes upon him to determine God’s secret counsel concerning any man; peremptorily asserting that he is none of God’s elect. In which case he often doth only inject the suspicion confidently, without offer of proof; or if he use arguments, they never amount to a proof of his assertion; neither is it possible they should, for these are among ‘God’s secrets,’ and out of Satan’s reach, though possibly they may prove the person to be not converted at present. So that this kind of trouble differs exceedingly from those disquiets of temptation which frequently men suffer about their state of regeneration. And indeed the question should not be confounded, it being of great concern to men when their peace is assaulted to be able to observe the difference betwixt these two assertions, ‘Thou are not elected,’ and ‘Thou art not yet regenerated.’ Seeing—the latter being granted—there yet remains a hope of the probability or possibility of that man’s conversion afterwards. The suspicions of non-conversion are more common, and not so dangerous; nay, in unregenerate persons the fears of their being yet in that condition, being joined with diligence and care to avoid the danger, are necessary and advantageous; but the former being granted, all hopes are, together with that concession, laid off, which must needs make the affrightment intolerable. In this we may observe,
[1.] That Satan, for the better management of this design, doth not only inject these suspicions in the most dreadful language—as, ‘Thou art a lost and damned wretch, hopelessly miserable to all eternity; God hath not elected thee to life, but prepared for thee, as a vessel of wrath, the lake of fire and brimstone for ever,’ &c.—but also he doth assert them with the highest peremptoriness imaginable, as if he had authority from God to pronounce a sentence of condemnation against a man. This must needs amaze the afflicted unspeakably.
[2.] In this he also observes his advantages; for there are some men so sadly suited to this design, that Satan comes better to speed upon them than others. Usually he fixeth his eyes,
First, Upon young persons at their first serious attendances upon, and considerations of, Scripture truths. Their hearts are then tender. Youth hath a natural tender-heartedness. We find them coupled together in Rehoboam’s character: 2 Chron. xiii. 7, ‘When Rehoboam was young and tender-hearted.’ And they are apt to receive strong impressions. When those who were formerly mindless of their spiritual concern begin to be serious, they can no sooner fall upon a consideration of those weighty doctrines, that there are sheep and goats, some saved and some damned, that the blessed are few in comparison of the many that take the broad way to destruction, and that these were from eternity ordained unto life, and these only, &c.; no sooner, I say, begin they to ponder these things, but Satan is ready with his suspicion, ‘And what dost thou know but thou art one of these excluded wretches? If but few are saved, a thousand to one thou art none of them; for why should God look upon thee more than another?’ These are his first essays[337] with young men beginning to be serious, in which afterward he proceeds with greater boldness as he seeth occasion.
Secondly, He also doth this to persons that are some way quickened to a devotional fear of God and care of their souls, but withal are ignorant, and not able distinctly to apprehend and orderly to range the doctrines of the Scriptures into a due consistency with one another. Their careful fears make them inquire into what God hath said concerning the everlasting state of men; and before they can be able to digest the principles of religion, Satan sets some truths edgeways against them, which put them into great affrightment; while, through their ignorance, other truths, appointed and declared for the satisfaction of the minds of those that hunger and thirst after righteousness, cannot come in to their relief. How startling must the truths of God’s election be when they stand forth alone, and are not accompanied with the invitations of the gospel, that promise pardon and acceptance to all that will come in and submit to Christ! Satan usually holds such kind of men to the consideration of those truths that have the most dismal aspect; and while they are stopped there, they can draw forth no other conclusions than these, that they are in hazard, and, for aught they know, utterly lost.
Third, Satan hath also this plot against those that by some grievous iniquity, or long continuance in sin, have highly provoked the Lord. Here he useth arguments from the heinousness of their iniquity: Thou art a reprobate, because thou hast committed these great evils, these are marks of damnation, &c.; which arguments, though they be of no value, and no way proving that for which they are brought, yet Satan injecting suspicions, and their own consciences in the meantime justly accusing, they so sink under their fear that they suffer Satan to make what conclusion he will, and then they subscribe to it.
Fourth, Above all, melancholy persons give the devil the greatest advantage to raise affrightments. That distemper naturally fills men with sad thoughts, and is credulous of the worst evil that can be objected against him that hath it. Of itself, it can create the blackest conceits and saddest surmises, and then believes its own fancy. When Satan strikes in with this humour—finguntque creduntque—they are the more confirmed in their suspicions; and the fright is the greater, because they are as incredulous of what is good, if it be told them, as they are apt to believe what is evil, and to believe it, because they fear it, dum timet credit,—though no other reason were offered: but much more when Satan, in a prophetic manner, foretells their misery, and assures them they must never be happy.
[3.] The suspicions which the devil hath by these advantages raised up, he doth endeavour to increase, and to root them deeply in the minds of them upon whom he hath thus begun. And indeed, by frequent inculcating the same thing, with his continued peremptoriness of asserting the certainty of their non-election, he at last brings up very many to a full persuasion that it is so; and besides other arts that he may have, or exercise in this particular, he commonly practiseth upon men by perverting the true intendment and use of the doctrine of election. That there is such a thing as election, and that of a determinate number, are truths undeniable; and the end of their discovery in the gospel is the comfort and confirmation of the converted. Here they may see God’s unchangeable love to them—how much they stand engaged for the freeness of grace, and that the foundation of God is sure, &c.; for to this purpose doth our Saviour improve these doctrines, John xvii. 6, 7, 9, 12, 15, 16. But nothing of this is spoken to discourage any man from his endeavours, neither can any man prove that he or any other is excluded out of the decree of election, except in case of the sin against the Holy Ghost; neither is it possible for the devil to prove any such thing against any man; neither ought any to suppose himself not elect; but on the contrary, if he is willing to forsake sin, and desirous to be reconciled to God, he ought to apprehend a probability that he is elected, because the proffer of Christ is made to all that will receive him. And therefore should men stop their ears against such suggestions, and not dispute that with Satan, but rather hearken to the commands, exhortations, and promises of Scripture, it being most certain that these ‘secret things belong to God,’ Deut. xxix. 29, and are no man’s rule to walk by, seeing ‘revealed things only belong to us;’ all this the devil perverts, for he endeavours to make election the immediate object of our faith, and our rule to walk by, as if it were necessary that every man knew God’s eternal purpose concerning him before he begin his endeavours. And as he argues some men into a perverse carelessness upon the ground of election, making them to conclude that if they are ordained to life, they shall be saved, though they live wickedly; if they be not, they shall be damned, though they endeavour never so much to the contrary; so he also argues some, from this doctrine, into terrible fears of damnation, because they cannot be assured aforehand that their names are written in heaven. And these dreadful suspicions he doth labour to strengthen by some men’s unwary handling of the doctrine of non-election. When some preachers unskilfully urge the dangerous signs of reprobation, or speak severely of God’s decrees, without due caution and promise of mercy to all penitent sinners; or when some, unskilful in the methods of comforting the distressed in conscience, because they are not able to shew the afflicted their condition, or to speak ‘a word in season’ to quiet their minds, and to direct them what course to take, do usually refer them to God’s decree, and tell them, If God have decreed them to salvation, they shall be saved; Satan doth industriously hold them there; by this means he leads them from their promises and their duty, and keeps them musing and poring upon election till they are bewildered, and cannot find the way out. Thus have several continued under their affrightments for many years.
[4.] We may observe, That when Satan hath brought them into this snare, he doth tyrannically domineer over them. He doth deride them under their trouble, and mock at them when their fear comes upon them. And because now the very thought or hearing of election is as a dagger to the heart, and a ‘dreadful sound in their ears,’ he delights to repeat it to them; for the very naming of the word becomes as dreadful as the sentence of condemnation to a malefactor, being always accompanied with this reflection, Oh how miserable am I that have no part nor portion in it! Besides, he doth busy their minds with imaginary representations of hell, and sets before them, as in a scheme, the day of judgment, the terrors of the damned, the sentence against the goats on the left hand, the intolerable pains of everlasting burnings, and that which is the misery of all these miseries, the eternity of all. Thus he forceth their meditations, but still with application to themselves; neither doth he suffer them to rest in the night, but they are terrified with sad dreams, and the visions of the night do disquiet them.
[5.] How grievous this affrightment is, I should next observe; but that is partly expressed in the aforegoing particulars, and may yet more fully appear by a consideration of these three things:
First, That a man hath nothing dearer to him than his soul. Alas! that cannot be counterbalanced by the gaining of the whole world, and to have no hope or expectancy of its salvation must needs be terribly affrightful!
Second, These suspicions of non-election prevailing, all promises and comforts are urged in vain, and they commonly return them back again to those that offered them with this reply, ‘They are true and useful to those unto whom they appertain, but they belong not unto me.’ Nay, all means are rejected as useless. If such be advised to pray or read, they will in their fit of affrightment refuse all; upon this reason, that they are not elected. And then to what purpose, say they, is prayer, or any endeavours? For who can alter his decree? And, indeed, if their affrightments continued at a height without intermission, they would never do anything; but this is their help, that some secret underground hopes which they espy not, do revive, at least sometimes, and put them upon endeavours which, through God’s blessing, become means of better information.
Third, Though Satan’s injections of non-election be altogether unproveable, and withal so terrifying, that it might be supposed men should not be forward in their belief of so great an unhappiness; yet can he prevail so far that the persons above named—especially the melancholy—are made to believe him, and this chiefly by possessing their imaginations with his frequent confident affirmations. We see it is a common practice to teach birds musical notes and sounds, which is only by constant repetition, till a strong impression is made upon their fancy; and thus may one man impose upon the imagination of another with his songs or sayings; for what we hear often we cannot forbear to repeat in our thoughts, being strongly fixed upon our fancy. No wonder, then, if Satan, by often repeating, ‘Thou art not elected, thou art damned,’ &c., do form so strong an impression upon the imagination, that poor amazed creatures learn to say after him, and then take the echoes of their fancy to be the voice of conscience condemning them. Now, then, if the unhappiness suspected be the greatest beyond all comparison, if these suspicions entertained cut off all succours of comfort that may arise from the promises of God and the endeavours of man, if Satan can prevail with men to entertain them with any persuasion—as we see he can—how dreadfully will these persuasions recoil upon a man! And thus will his thoughts run, ‘I am persuaded I am not elected; and if not elected, then comforts and prayers are all in vain; and if these be in vain, there is no possibility of salvation, nor the least hope of a who knows, or a peradventure; and if that, oh unspeakably miserable!’ Under these astonishing thoughts doth Satan exercise their hearts by suspicions of non-election. But,
4. Sometimes he takes another course to affright men, and that is by injecting motions of some abominable sin or evil into their minds, to the commission whereof he seems strongly to solicit; yet not with any full intention or expectation of prevalency, but with a purpose to molest and disquiet. And for that end, he commonly chooseth such sins as are most vile in their own nature, and most opposite to the dispositions of men. Thus he injects thoughts of uncleanness to a chaste person; thoughts of injustice and wrong to a just man; thoughts of revenge and cruelty to a weak man; thoughts of rejoicing in the loss and misery of others to the merciful man. Or else he injects motions to such sins wherein formerly men have been overtaken, but have been made bitter by deep repentance; the very thoughts whereof are now become most loathsome. And sometimes he pursues men with thoughts of self-murder, even while there is nothing of discontent or trouble in their minds to second such a temptation. By this manner of proceeding he creates great affrightments to the hearts of men. For,
[1.] These are strange surprisals; and persons under this kind of trouble cannot but be amazed to find such thoughts within them, which are most contrary to their dispositions, or their most serious resolves. The chaste person tempted to uncleanness, or the just man to revenge; the humble person urged to the same sin that cost him so dear, &c.; they wonder at their own hearts, and while they mistake these temptations, by judging them to be the issues of their own inclination, with astonishment they cry out, Oh, I had thought that I had mortified these lusts, but what a strange heart have I! I see sin is as strong in me as ever! And I have cause to fear myself, &c.
[2.] And this is yet a greater trouble, because usually Satan takes them at some advantage of an offered occasion or opportunity, then he gives them a sudden push, and with importunity urgeth them to take the time. This often affrights them into trembling, and their fears do so weaken their purposes that their hazards are the greater, in that they are astonished into an inactivity. So that in this case the men of might do not readily find their hands.
[3.] Neither are these motions sudden and transient glances, which perish as soon as they are born, though it be a very frequent thing with Satan to cast in motions into the heart for trial sake, without further prosecution; but he, in this case, pursues with frequent repetitions, following hard after them, to the increase of the affrightment. So that for a long time together men may be afflicted with these messengers of Satan to buffet them; and though they may pray earnestly against them that they may be removed, yet they find the motions continue upon them. Which must needs be a hateful annoyance to an upright heart, that doth know it to be only Satan’s design to affright; much more must it afflict those that do not perceive the contriver and end of such motions, but judge them to be the natural workings of their own evil heart.
5. Satan can also affright men by immediate impressions of fear upon their minds. He can do much with the imagination, especially when persons are distempered with melancholy, for such are naturally fearful, and any impressions upon them have the deepest, most piercing operation. They are always framing to themselves dismal things, and abound with black and dark conceits, surmising still the worst, and always incredulous of what is good. Hence it is that sometimes men are seized upon by fearfulness and trembling, when yet they cannot give any tolerable account of a cause or reason why it should be so with them. And others are excessively astonished with the shadows of their own thoughts upon the meanest pretences imaginable.
That this is the work of Satan doth appear by unquestionable evidence. This was that ‘evil spirit’ which God sent between Abimelech and the men of Shechem, Judges ix. 23. God permitted Satan, for the punishment of them both, to raise fears and jealousies in the heart of Abimelech against the men of Shechem, and in the hearts of the men of Shechem against Abimelech. They were mutually afraid of one another, and these fears wrought so far, that they were, for the prevention of a supposed danger, engaged in treacherous conspiracies, to the real ruin of them both. The ‘evil spirit’ that vexed Saul, 1 Sam. xvi. 14, was nothing else but sudden and vehement fits of terror and inward fear, which the devil raised by the working up of his melancholy. For we may observe these fits were allayed by music; and also we might see by his disposition out of his fits, and by his carriage in them, that inward fears were his tormentors; for, 1 Sam. xviii. 9, it is noted that Saul eyed David, that is, his jealous fears began to work concerning David, of whom it is said expressly, ver. 12, ‘that he was afraid because the Lord was with him,’ and when the evil spirit came upon him his heart was exercised with these fears, and accordingly he behaved himself when he cast the javelin at David with a purpose to slay him. Upon any occasion, of trouble especially, the devil was at hand to heighten his affrightment, insomuch that when the supposed Samuel told him of his death, 1 Sam. xxviii. 20, he was afraid to such a height that he ‘fell straightway all along on the earth, and there was no strength in him.’ Neither must we suppose that Satan in this kind of working is confined only to wicked men; for there is nothing in this manner of affrightment which is inconsistent with the condition of a child of God, especially when God gives him up to trial or correction. Nay, many of God’s servants suffer under Satan’s hand in this very manner. Let us consider the troubles of Job, and we shall find that though Satan endeavoured to destroy his peace by discomposure of spirit, by questioning his integrity, by frightful injections of blasphemous thoughts, yet all these he vanquished with an undaunted courage, the blasphemy he rejected with abhorrency, his integrity he resolved he would not deny so long as he lived, his losses he digested easily with a sober composed mind, blessed God that gives and takes at pleasure; and yet he complains of his fears, and his frequent surprisals thereby, insomuch that his friends take notice that most of his trouble arose from thence: chap. xxii. 10, ‘A sudden fear troubleth thee;’ and he himself confesseth as much, ix. 34, ‘Let not his fear terrify me ... but it is not so with me.’ So that it appears that Job’s inward distress was mostly from strong impressions of affrighting fears.
These fears impressed upon the mind must needs be an unexpressible trouble. There is nothing that doth more loosen the sinews and joints of the soul, to the weakening and utter enfeebling of it in all its endeavours, than fears; it scatters the strength in a moment. And besides the present burden, which will bow down the backs of the strongest, these fears have a special kind of envious magnanimity in them. For (1.) they come by fits, and have times of more fierce and cruel assaults, yet in their intervals they leave the heart in a trembling fainting posture; for the devil gives not over the present fit till he hath rent them sore, and left them, as he did the man’s son in Mark ix. 26, ‘as one dead’: so that it is no more to be reckoned compassion and gentleness in Satan toward the afflicted that their fits are not constant, than it can be accounted tenderness or kindness in a tyrant who, when he hath racked or tormented a man as much as strength will bear without killing out of hand, gives over for a time that the party might be reserved for new torments. (2.) These fits usually return at such times as the party afflicted seems to promise himself some little ease, being designed to give the greater disappointment in intercepting his expected comforts. Sleep and meat are the two great refreshments of the distressed; these times Satan watcheth for his new onsets. Job found it so in both cases; his meal-times were times of trouble: chap. iii. 24, ‘My sighing cometh,’ that is, the fits of sighing return, ‘before I eat, and my roarings are poured out like the waters,’ And his sleeping-times were no better: vii. 13, ‘When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint; then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions: so that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather than life.’ (3.) These fears do make them feel the weight, not only of real present evils, but of all others which the imagination can represent to them. So that the sight or hearing of any sad thing afflicts them with surmises that this will be their case. Hence are they full of misgiving thoughts. Sometimes they fear that they shall at last fall off from God into some scandalous sin, to the dishonour of God and religion, as that they shall be apostates, and turn openly profane; sometimes they fear they shall meet with some signal devouring judgment by which they shall one day perish, as David said in the like case, ‘I shall one day perish by the hand of Saul,’ [1 Sam. xxvii. 1.] Thus are they crucified betwixt their present burden and future expectations of evil.
6. The last, and indeed the meanest, engine for the working of affrightment, is scrupulosity of conscience. Satan vexeth the conscience and distracteth the mind, by raising up needless, groundless fears concerning a man’s practice. Where the ignorance of men or their timorous dispositions do encourage Satan to this enterprise, there he multiplies scruples upon them; so that, though they assent to the doing of anything as good or lawful, yet are they constantly affrighted from it by a suspicious fear that it may be otherwise.
This kind of trouble takes in almost all kind of actions. It extends to the way of a man’s calling, the way of his management of it, the rates he takes and the prices he gives for his commodities; our very natural actions of sleeping, eating, drinking, company, recreation, are not unconcerned. In all which the devil affrights the timorous conscience that, it may be he hath offended: if he buys or sells, he is disquieted with a maybe that he hath sold too dear, or bought too cheap; if he eats or sleeps, he fears he hath been excessive, a sluggard or a glutton: thus are some men molested in everything they do.
Neither is this kind of affrightment to be despised; for though often it is a groundless fear, and so appears to be to discerning Christians, yet those that are under this molestation think it bad enough. Though it be not as a rack, that afflicts with violent pains, yet it is as those kinds of punishments which at first are nothing, but by continuance do tire men out with little ease, and so at last become intolerable. Besides, this is a multiplying trouble; for one scruple begets another, and by continuance of scrupling, the conscience grows so weak and unsteady, that everything is scrupled, and the man brought to a continual affrightment of doing wrong in every action. Neither can all men make use of the remedy that is prescribed for the cure of this distemper, which is, that when such scruples cannot be removed by reason, then either men should forbear the thinking upon such things from whence scruples are apt to arise, or they should break them down by violence, and go over the belly of their scruple to the performance of their action. I deny not but that something may be done and endeavoured this way; but any may see that it is not easy for every one to do either of these: so that this is also a troublesome evil, from which it is not easy to be discharged.
Chapter VIII
Of Satan’s third way to hinder peace, by spiritual sadness.—Wherein, 1. Of the degrees of spiritual sadness. 2. Of the frequency of this trouble, evidenced several ways. Of the difference betwixt God and Satan in wounding the conscience. 3. Of the solemn occasions of this trouble. 4. The engines by which Satan works spiritual sadness. (1.) His sophistry. His topics enumerated and explained. [1.] Scriptures perverted. [2.] False notions. [3.] Misrepresentations of God. [4.] Sins: how he aggravates them. [5.] Lessening their graces: how he doth that. (2.) His second engine, fear: how he forwards his design that way.
Besides the troubles already mentioned under the heads of discomposures of spirit and affrightments, there is a third kind of trouble which Satan gives to the children of God, and this may, for distinction sake, be called spiritual sadness. These spiritual sadnesses are troubles raised in the mind, relating to the conscience and spiritual state or condition of men. They differ exceedingly from the two former sorts of trouble: for, (1.) These troubles wholly concern the conscience in point of regeneration, and men’s suitableness thereunto; whereas simple discomposures of spirit firstly relate to outward things. (2.) In these the conscience is immediately concerned, but in other troubles the conscience is either wholly untouched, or wounded only secondarily, by continuance and progress of the discomposure of the spirit. (3.) In these troubles, conscience is the great instrument by which the devil works; whereas, in the trouble of affrightments, the devil acted alone, the heart being in the meantime uncompliant and resisting. For the opening of this trouble I shall explain—
1. The several degrees thereof. It is a trouble of conscience unduly aggravated by Satan, wherein he confines himself to the operations of conscience. But then, as he suggests the troubles of men by the voice of conscience, so he doth all he can to make it irregular in its actings, and excessive in that irregularity. So that in this case the conscience is evil, and employs itself in that mistake, to inquire into men’s regeneracy or holiness, always being either a neuter or an adversary, and the devil helps this forward all he can.
The apostle, in Heb. x. 22, makes mention of an ‘evil conscience,’ and that chiefly as it doth occasion fear, hindering our comfortable access to God. This the conscience doth when it doth not execute its office aright, either in ‘not excusing’ when it ought, or in ‘accusing’ when it should not; and these false accusations cause different sorts of troubles according to the variety of the matter for which it doth condemn. Hence is it that there are three degrees of trouble of conscience below the trouble of despair:—
[1.] The lowest degree is when a regenerate person doth not positively determine the case of his soul, whether he be regenerate or not, but is only kept in suspense betwixt hope that he is, and fear that he is not, the conscience in the meantime forbearing to witness for him, though it hath just cause to excuse him. This we may call a doubting or questioning conscience; and though it comes far short of these distresses in which some men are plunged upon the account of their souls, yet is it a trouble, for their peace is hereby hindered and their desires of satisfaction frustrated, which in matters of so great concern, as are these of everlasting life and everlasting misery, must be very disquieting. When the affections are earnest, their satisfaction cannot be delayed without trouble; for ‘hope deferred makes the heart sick,’ Prov. xiii. 12; not only doth it faint under its doubts, but is by that means so weak in its purposes that it is easily drawn to admit of greater inconveniences, which may lay the foundation of more perplexing disturbances.
That the conscience may be in such a distemper that it will not witness for a man, when yet it cannot witness against him, is the observation of those that have treated of the nature of conscience.[338] Sometimes it will not make application of God’s promises. Though it will believe that he that forsakes sin is regenerate, that he that truly repents shall be pardoned, yet it will not affirm for a man that he forsakes sin or repents, though he really do so; or if it cannot deny that, yet it will sometimes refuse to make that conclusion which one would think would follow of itself by natural consequence, and so refuseth to judge the person regenerate or pardoned, though it cannot deny but that he forsakes sin and repents. The greatness of the blessing, the remainders of unbelief, the deep sense of unworthiness, with other considerations, do keep off the heart from making, as I may say, so bold with the promises; but all this while the devil is doing his utmost to aggravate these considerations, affrighting the conscience from that just absolution which it ought to give.
[2.] Another degree of trouble arising from an evil conscience, is when the condition of a regenerate person is determined by conscience, but falsely, to be very bad. I must here, as some others have done,[339] for want of better terms, distinguish betwixt the state of regeneracy and a man’s condition in that state, though the words state and condition are used promiscuously the one for another. A man may be in a regenerate state, and yet his condition in that state may be very bad and blameworthy, as not walking worthy of so holy a calling; as a person may be a man, and yet unhealthy or languishing. Thus many of the Asian churches were true churches, and yet in a bad condition; some ‘lukewarm;’ some had ‘a name to live,’ and yet were comparatively ‘dead,’ because their works were not full or ‘perfect before God;’ and others had ‘left their first love.’ To this purpose is that of the apostle, 2 Cor. xiii. 5, ‘Know ye not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates?’—εἰ μή τι ἀδόκιμοί ἐστε—where the word ‘reprobate’ is not to be taken in the strict, severe sense for one ‘not elected,’ but for one whose conversation is not so sound and approved as it should be: for this relates not to their being in Christ, but to their assurance of being in that state, which the apostle affirms they might know, except the fault lay in their negligent, careless conversation.
This kind of trouble then is of this nature: the conscience doth not accuse a man to be unregenerate, yet it condemns him for a carriage unsuitable to the gospel; and this sometimes when his actions are not absolutely evil, but partly good, partly bad. When the conscience condemns the actions as altogether sinful, because of some mixture of infirmities, in which case we should imitate the apostle, in Rom. vii., who when by reason of the remainders of sin in him, he could not do the good he would—that is, in such a manner and degree as he desired, nor avoid the evil which he would so clearly and fully as he wished, some imperfections in his best endeavours still cleaving to him; yet his conscience took a right course, he was humbled for his imperfections, but withal acquits himself in point of integrity; his conscience testified, ver. 16, that he ‘consented to the law as good;’ and ver. 22, that he ‘delighted in the law of God, after the inward man.’ But in this case of spiritual trouble, the conscience takes all in the worst sense; it only fixeth upon the imperfections, and makes them to serve for proofs against the sincerity. Thus if a man in praying be troubled with wandering thoughts, then a distempered conscience condemns that prayer as a sinful profanation of the name of God. If the great concern of God’s glory run along in such a way as is also advantageous to the person in outward things, then will such a conscience condemn the man for self-seeking, though his main design were truly the honour of God. In all actions where there is infirmity appearing with the most serious endeavours, or where God’s glory and man’s good are twisted together, the disordered conscience will be apt to take part with Satan, accusing and condemning the action. Yea, very often when the actions are very good, no way justly reprovable, the conscience shall condemn. If he have had peace, he shall be judged for security; if he have faith in God’s promises, it will call it presumption; if he have a zeal for God, it will be misinterpreted for carnal rigour; if he have joy, it shall be misjudged to be natural cheerfulness or delusion; in a word, all his graces shall be esteemed no better than moral virtues. At this rate are the children of God put to great trouble, losing, as I may say, the things they have wrought, sadly bemoaning their hardness of heart, or want of faith and love, when in their carriage and complainings, they give very high proofs of all. In this also Satan is busy to nourish the conscience in its jealousies, and doth suggest many objections to confirm it in its distemper. The conscience is not always of a peevish or perverse humour; for sometimes it will smite a man for a miscarriage,—as it did to David when he cut off the lap of Saul’s garment,—and yet not break his peace: which is a sufficient evidence that it is put, in this case, far out of order; which advantage Satan works upon to disquiet the heart, to make men unthankful for the mercies they have received, and to incapacitate them for more. This, for distinction sake, we may call the trouble of a grieved or dejected conscience, according to that of Ps. xlii. 5, 11, ‘Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me?’ Though such men are under God’s favour, yet they misdeem it, and think God is angry with them; their heart pants, their soul thirsts, their tears are their meat, they are ready to say unto God, ‘My rock, why hast thou forsaken me?’ and though they have some hopes for the future, that God ‘will command his loving-kindness,’ and that they ‘shall yet praise him;’ yet their present apprehension of their spiritual wants and weaknesses, and of the displeasure of God, which they suppose they are under, makes them go mourning all the day.
[3.] The third degree of trouble of conscience is when the conscience peremptorily denies the state of regeneration. Hereby a man that is really regenerate, is concluded to be yet ‘in the gall of bitterness, and bond of iniquity;’ his former hopes are taxed for self-delusion, and his present state to be a state of nature. This trouble is far greater than the two former, because the party is judged to be in greater hazard, and by many degrees more remote from hope. It is the frequent and sad thought of such, that if death should in that estate cut off their days, oh, then they were for ever miserable! The fears and disquiets of the heart on this account are very grievous, but yet they admit of degrees, according to the ignorance of the party, the distemper of the conscience, the strength of the objections, or severity of the prosecution, in regard the conscience is now sadly out of order. We may call this degree of grief, for distinction, ‘a wounded spirit;’ which how hard it is to be borne Solomon tells us, Prov. xviii. 14, by comparing it with all other kind of troubles, which the spirit of a man can make some shift to bear, making this heavier than all, and above ordinary strength.
Some make inquiry what may be the difference betwixt a wounded spirit in the regenerate and the reprobate? To which it may be answered, (1.) That in the party’s apprehension there is no difference at all; both of them may be compassed about with the sorrows of death, and suppose themselves to be in the belly of hell. (2.) Neither is there any difference in the degree of the trouble; a child of God may be handled with as much seeming severity, as he whom God intends for a future Tophet. (3.) Neither is there any such remarkable difference in the working of the spirits of the one and other, that they themselves at present, or others that are bystanders, can easily observe. Yet a formal difference there is; for grace being in the heart of the one, will in some breathing or pulse discover its life. And though sometimes it acts so low or confusedly that God only can distinguish, yet often those that are experienced observers will discover some real breathings after God, and true loathing of sin, and other traces of faith and love, that are not so discernible to the parties themselves. (4.) But in God’s design the difference is very great; the wicked lie under his lash as malefactors, but the regenerate are as patients under cure, or children under discipline. (5.) And accordingly the issue doth determine, that God’s intention in wounding their spirits were not alike to both; the one at last coming out of the furnace as gold, the other still remaining as reprobate silver, or being consumed as dross. Thus have ye seen the nature and degree of spiritual sadness.
2. For the further explanation whereof I shall next shew you that this is a usual trouble to the children of God.
Which, (1.) I might evidence from several instances of those that have suffered much under it; as David, whose complaints in this case are very frequent, and Heman, who left a memorial of his griefs in Ps. lxxxviii. Jonah also, in the belly of the whale, had a sharp fit of it, when he concluded that he was ‘cast out of God’s sight,’ and his ‘soul fainted within him,’ Jonah ii. 4, 7. Neither did Hezekiah altogether escape it, for though his disquiet began upon another ground, it ran him into spiritual trouble at last. But besides these, innumerable instances occur. One shall scarce converse with any society of Christians but he shall meet with some who, with sad complaints, shall bemoan the burden of their hearts, and the troubles of their conscience.
(2.) The provisions which God hath made in his word for such, is an evidence that such distempers are frequent. He that in a city shall observe the shops of the apothecaries, and there take notice of the great variety of medicines, pots, and glasses full of mixtures, confections, and cordials, may from thence rationally conclude, that it is a frequent thing for men to be sick, though he should not converse with any sick person for his information. Thus may we be satisfied from the declarations, directions, and consolations of Scripture that it is a common case for the children of God to stand in need of spiritual physicians and spiritual remedies to help them when they are wounded and fainting. Solomon’s exclamation, ‘A wounded spirit who can bear?’ shews that the spirit is sometimes wounded. The prophet’s direction, ‘He that walks in darkness and sees no light, let him trust in the Lord,’ [Isa. l. 10,] clearly implies that some there are that walk in darkness. God’s creating the ‘fruit of the lips, Peace, peace;’ his promises of restoring ‘comforts to mourners;’ his commands to others to comfort them; do all inform us that it is a common thing for his children to be under such sadnesses of spirit, that all this is necessary for their relief.
(3.) The reasons of this trouble do also assure us of the frequency of it; for of them we may say, as Christ speaks of the poor, [Mat. xxvi. 11,] ‘we have them always with us;’ so that the grounds of spiritual sadness considered, it is no wonder to find many men complaining under this distemper. The reasons are,
[1.] The malice of Satan, who hath no greater revenge against a child of God, when translated from the power of darkness to the kingdom of Christ, than to hinder him of the peace and comfort of that condition.
[2.] The many advantages which Satan hath against us. For the effecting of this we cannot imagine that one so malicious as he is will suffer his malice to sleep, when so many fair opportunities of putting it in practice do offer themselves. For, first, The questions to be determined for settling the peace of the soul are very intricate, and often of greater difficulty than doctrinal controversies. How hard is it to conclude what is the minimum quod sic, the lowest degrees of true grace! or the maximum quod sic, the highest degree of sin consistent with true grace! To distinguish betwixt a child of God at the lowest, and a hypocrite or temporary believer at the highest, is difficult. In mixed actions, to be able to shew how the soul doth manage its respect to God, when the man hath also a respect to himself, especially when it is under any confusion, is not easy. And in these actions, where the difference from others of like kind lies only in the grounds and motives of the undertaking, or where the prevailing degree must distinguish the act in reference to different objects that are subordinate to one another—as our loving God above the world or ourselves, our fearing God above men, &c.—it is not every one that can give a satisfactory determination. Second, As the intricacies of the doubts to be resolved give the devil an advantage to puzzle us, so is the advantage heightened exceedingly by the great injudiciousness and unskilfulness of the greatest part of Christians. These questions are in their notion difficult; more difficult in their application to particular persons, where the ablest Christian may easily be nonplussed; but most difficult to the weak Christians. These Satan can baffle with every poor objection, and impose what he will upon them. Third, Especially having the advantage of the working guilt of conscience, which he can readily stir up to present to a man’s remembrance all his failings and miscarriages of what nature soever. And when guilt rageth in an unskilful heart, it must needs create great disquiet. Fourth, But most of all when our natural fears are awakened; as when a man hath been under any great conviction, though he be cured of his trouble, yet it usually leaves a weakness in the part, as bruises and maims do in any member of the body, which at the change of weather or other accidental hurt will renew their old trouble; and then when fresh guilt begins to press hard upon the conscience, not only do the broken bones ache, by the reviving of former fears, but the impressions of his old suspicions, bad conceit of himself, and jealousies of the deceitfulness of his heart, which had then fixed themselves by a deep rooting, do now make him most fearful of entertaining any good thought of himself. So that if any consideration tending to his support be offered, he dare not come near it, suspecting his greatest danger to lie on that hand. These advantages considered, we should not think it strange that any child of God is driven to spiritual sadness, as some do, but may rather wonder that this is not the common condition of all Christians.
[3.] Another reason that must be assigned for these troubles is divine dispensation. Such are his children, some so careless, others proud, others stubborn, many presumptuous, that God is forced to correct them by this piece of discipline, and to cure them by casting them into a fever. Others of his children he thus exerciseth for other ends, sometimes to take occasion therefrom of making larger discoveries of his love; sometimes thereby preventing them from falling under some grievous miscarriage, or for the trial and exercises of their graces. We may observe, accordingly, that there are three sorts of men that usually have exercises of this kind.
(1.) Those who at their conversion are either ignorant, melancholy, or were grossly scandalous, are usually brought through with great fear and sadness. And this is so observable, that by the mistake of men it is made a general rule that none are converted but they are under great and frightful apprehensions of wrath and dismal terrors. This indeed is true of some, but these ordinarily are the scandalous, melancholy, and ignorant sort—though sometimes God may deal so with others, for who can limit him? Yet are there many whose education hath been good, and their instruction aforehand great, whose conversion is so gradual and insensible, that they are strangers to these troubles of conscience, and profess that if these heights of fear be necessary to conversion, they must be at a loss; neither can they give an account of the time of their conversion, as others may.
(2.) Those whose conversion was easy, when after their conversion they miscarry by any great iniquity, they meet with as great a measure of terror and fear, and some think far greater, as those whose new birth was more difficult. David’s greatest troubles of soul came upon him after he began to appear more public in the world; for then he met with many temptations, and great occasions for God’s exercising his discipline over him. I believe, when he kept his father’s sheep, his songs had more of praises and less of complainings than afterward. It is the opinion of some that God’s dealing in this kind of dispensation, even when miscarriage is not the cause, is more sharp usually to those whose conversion hath been most easy.
(3.) There is another sort of men, to whom God vouchsafes but seldom and short fits of spiritual joy, as breathing times, betwixt sharp fits of soul-trouble, for necessary refreshment and recovery of strength; but the constant course which God holds with them is to exercise them under fears, while he hides his face from them, and suffers Satan to vex them, by urging his objections against their holiness and integrity. Heman was one of this rank, and the great instance which God hath given in his word for the support of others that may be in the same case. For he testifies, Ps. lxxxviii., that he suffered the terrors of God almost to distraction, and this from his youth up. It is not fit for us too narrowly to question why God doth thus to his children, seeing his ‘judgments are unsearchable,’ and his ‘ways past finding out;’ but we may be sure that God sees this dealing to be most fit for those that are exercised therewith. It may be to keep pride from them, or to prevent them from falling into some greater inconvenience or sin, unto which he takes notice of a more than ordinary proneness in their disposition; or for the benefit of others, who may thereby take notice what ‘an evil and bitter thing it is’ to sin against God, and what a malicious adversary they have to deal with. Whoso shall consider these reasons of spiritual sadness, must needs confess, that seeing the advantages which men give to a malicious devil to vex their consciences are so many and great, and the weakness of God’s children so hazardous, for the prevention whereof, a wise, careful Father will necessarily be engaged to exercise his discipline, it cannot be expected but that spiritual troubles should be very frequent among the servants of God.
Quest. Here it is requisite that I give satisfaction to this query. Seeing that God doth sometime wound the consciences of his children, and that Satan also wounds them, what are the differences betwixt God and Satan in inflicting these wounds?
Ans. For the right understanding of this question I shall propound two things:
(1.) That it is a truth that God doth sometimes wound the consciences of his children; and this,
[1.] Before conversion: but in order to it, as preparatory to that change, men are then in their sins, walking in the vanity of their minds. To translate them from this estate he awakens the conscience, shews them their iniquities, and the danger of them, that at present they are ‘in their blood,’ ‘children of wrath, as well as others,’ and that without Christ they are miserable. The effect of this must needs be serious consideration, deep thoughts of heart, with some trouble; only as to the measure and degree there is great difference. God doth not in the particular application of these things to the conscience tie up himself exactly to the same manner and measure of proceeding, though he keep still to his general method. Hence is it that some, in regard of God’s gentle, leisurely dealing, and the frequent interposure of encouragements, are, if compared with the case of others, said to be allured and ‘drawn with cords of love.’ But others have a remarkable measure of trouble, sharp fits of fear and anguish; and those most commonly are such whose conversion is more quick, and the change visible from one extreme to another, as Paul, when converted in the midst of his persecuting rage, or those whose ignorance or melancholy makes their hopes and comforts inaccessible for the present. These troubles God owns to be the work of his Spirit. The same Spirit, which is a ‘Spirit of adoption’ to the converted, is a ‘spirit of bondage’ to these, Rom. viii. 16. And accordingly we find it was so to the converts in Acts ii., who being ‘pricked in their hearts’ by Peter’s sermon, ‘cried out, Men and brethren, what shall we do?’ The like did the jailor. And the promise which God makes of calling the Jews, Zech. xii. 10, doth express God’s purpose of dealing with them in this very method: ‘They shall look upon him whom they have pierced, and shall mourn for him as one that mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him; ... in that day shall be a great mourning.’
[2.] God also sometimes wounds the conscience of his children after conversion; and this he doth to convince and humble them for some miscarriage which they become guilty of.[340] As when they grow secure, carnally confident of the continuance of their peace—when they are carelessly negligent of duty and the exercises of their graces—when they fall into gross and scandalous sins, or wilfully desert the ways of truth, and in many more cases of like kind. When his children make themselves thus obnoxious to divine displeasure, then God hides his face from them, takes away his Spirit, signifies his anger to their consciences, threatens them with the danger of that condition, from whence follows grief and fear in the hearts of his people. In this manner God expressed his displeasure to David, as his complaints in Ps. li. do testify: ‘Make me to hear joy and gladness, that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice. Hide thy face from my sins. Cast me not away from thy presence, and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation,’ &c.
(2.) Notwithstanding all this, there is a great difference betwixt God and Satan in this matter, which mainly appears in two things:—
[1.] God doth limit himself in all the trouble which he gives his children, to his great end of doing them good, and healing them, and consequently stints himself in the measure and manner of his work to such a proportion as his wisdom sees will exactly suit with his end. So that his anger is not like the brawlings of malicious persons that know no bounds. He will not ‘always chide;’ his debates are in measure, and this ‘lest the spirit should fail before him,’ Isa. lvii. 16. So that when he wounds the conscience before conversion, it is but to bring them to Christ, and to prevent their taking such courses as might through delusion make them take up their stand short of him. So much of mourning and fear as is requisite for the true effecting of this, he appoints for them, and no more. When he wounds after conversion, it is but to let them feel that it is an evil and bitter thing to sin against him, that their ‘godly sorrow may work repentance’ suitable to the offence, and that they may be sufficiently cautioned for the time to come to ‘sin no more, lest a worse thing befall them.’ He that afflicts not willingly, will put no more grief upon them than is necessary to bring them to this. But Satan, when he is admitted—and God doth often permit him in subservience to his design, to wound the conscience—he proceeds according to the boundless fury of his malice, and plainly manifests that his desire is to destroy and to tread them down that they may never rise again. This though he cannot effect, for God will not suffer him to proceed further than the bringing about his holy and gracious purpose, yet it hinders not but that still his envious thoughts boil up in his breast, and he acts according to his own inclination. For it is with Satan as it is with wicked men. If God employ them for the chastisement of his children, they consider not who sets them on work, nor what measures probably God would have them observe, but they propose to themselves more work than ever God cut out for them; as Assyria, when employed against Jerusalem, Isa. x. 7, had designs more large and cruel than was in God’s commission. God had stinted him in his holy purpose; yet the ‘Assyrian meant not so, neither did his heart think so; but it was in his heart to destroy and cut off nations not a few.’ So that when God is ‘a little displeased,’ as he speaks, Zech. i. 15, they do all that lies in them to help forward the affliction. Thus doth the devil endeavour to make all things worse to God’s children than ever God intended. Here is one difference betwixt God and Satan, in the wounding of consciences. But,
[2.] They are yet further differenced, in that all that God doth in this work is still according to truth. For if he signify to the unconverted that they are in a state of nature, liable to the damnation of hell, unless they accept of Christ for salvation upon his terms, this is no more than what is true. God doth not misrepresent their case to them at that time. Again, if he express his displeasure to any of his converted children that have grieved his Spirit by their follies, by setting before them the threatenings of his word, or the examples of his wrath, he doth but truly tell them that he is angry with them, and that de jure, according to the rigour of the law and the demerit of their offence he might justly cast them off; but he doth not positively say that, de eventu, it shall infallibly be so with them. But Satan, in both these cases, goes a great way further. He plainly affirms to those that are in the way to conversion, that God will not pardon their iniquities, that there is no hope for them, that Christ will not accept them, that he never intended the benefit of his sufferings for them. And when the converted do provoke God, he sticks not to say the breach cannot be healed, and that they are not yet converted. All which are most false assertions. And though God can make use of Satan’s malice, when he abuseth his children with his falsehoods to their great fear, to carry on his own ends by it, and to give a greater impression to what he truly witnesseth against them; yet is not God the proper author of Satan’s lying, for he doth it of his own wicked inclination. The effect of these desperate false conclusions, which is the putting his children into a fear in order to his end, may be ascribed to God; but the falsehood of these conclusions are formally Satan’s work and not God’s; for he makes use of so much of Satan’s wrath as may be to his praise, and the ‘remainder of his wrath he doth restrain,’ [Ps. lxxvi. 10.]
I have discovered the nature and degrees of these spiritual troubles, and that it is a common thing for the children of God to fall under them. For the further opening of them I shall next discover,
3. The usual solemn occasions that do, as it were, invite Satan to give his onset against God’s children; and they are principally these six:—
[1.] The time of conversion. He delights to set on them when they are in the straits of a new birth, for then the conscience is awakened, the danger of sin truly represented, fear and sorrow, in some degree, necessary and unavoidable. At this time he can easily overdrive them. Where the convictions are deep and sharp, ready to weigh them down, a few grains more cast into the scale will make the trouble, as Job speaks, ‘heavier than the sand,’ [chap. vi. 3;] and where they are more easy or gentle, yet the soul being unsettled, the thoughts in commotion, they are disposed to receive a strong impression, and to be turned, as wax to the seal, into a mould of hopelessness and desperation. That this is one of Satan’s special occasions, we need no other evidence for satisfaction than the common experience of converts. Many of them do hardly escape the danger, and after their difficult conquest of the troubles of their heart—which at that time are extraordinarily enlarged—do witness that they are assaulted with desperate fears that their sins were unpardonable, and sad conclusions against any expectation of favour from the Lord their God. These thoughts we are sure the Spirit of God will not bear witness unto, because false, and therefore we must leave them at Satan’s door.
[2.] Another occasion which Satan makes use of, is the time of solemn repentance for some great sin committed after conversion. Sometimes God’s children fall, to the breaking of their bones. What great iniquities they may commit through the force of temptation, I need not mention. The adultery and murder of David; the incest of the Corinthian; Peter’s denial of Christ, with other sad instances in the records of the Scriptures, do speak enough of that. These sins—considering their heinousness, the scandal of religion, the dishonour of God, the grieving of his Spirit, the condition of the party offending against love, knowledge, and the various helps which God affords them to the contrary, with other aggravating circumstances—being very displeasing to God, their consciences at least, either compelled to examination by God immediately, or mediately by some great affliction, or voluntarily awakening to a serious consideration of what hath been done, by the working of its own light, assisted thereunto by quickening grace, 1 Cor. xi. 31, 32,—call them to a strict account. Thence follow fear, shame, self-indignation, bitter weeping, deep humiliation. Then comes Satan; he rakes their wounds, and by his aggravations makes them smart the more. He pours in corrosives instead of oil, and all to make them believe that their ‘spot is not the spot of God’s children,’ [Deut. xxxii. 5;] that their backslidings cannot be healed. An occasion it is, as suitable to his malice as he could wish; for ordinarily God doth severely testify his anger to them, and doth not easily admit them again to the sense of his favour. At which time the adversary is very busy to work up their hearts to an excess of fear and sorrow. This was the course which he took with the incestuous Corinthian, taking advantage of his great transgressions to ‘overwhelm him with too much sorrow,’ 2 Cor. ii. 7, 11.
[3.] Satan watcheth the discomposures of the spirits of God’s children, under some grievous cross or affliction. This occasion also falls fit for his design of wounding the conscience. When the hand of the Lord is lifted up against them, and their thoughts disordered by the stroke, suggesting at that time God’s anger to them and their sins, he can easily frame an argument from these grounds, that they are not reconciled to God, and that they are dealt withal as enemies. David seldom met with outward trouble, but he at the same time had a conflict with Satan about his spiritual condition or state, as his frequent deprecations of divine wrath at such times do testify; ‘Lord, rebuke me not in thy wrath,’ &c. There is indeed but a step betwixt discomposure of spirit and spiritual troubles, as hath been proved before.
[4.] When Satan hath prepared the hearts of God’s children by atheistical or blasphemous thoughts, he takes that occasion to deny their grace and interest in Christ, and the argument at that time seems unanswerable. Can Christ lodge in a heart so full of horrid blasphemies against him? Is it possible it should be washed and sanctified, when it produceth such filthy, cursed thoughts? All the troubles of affrightment, of which before, are improvable to this purpose.
[5.] Another spiritual occasion for spiritual trouble is melancholy. Few persons distempered therewith do escape Satan’s hands. At one time or other he casts his net over them, and seeks to stab them with his weapon. Melancholy indeed affords so many advantages to him, and those so answerable to his design, that it is no wonder if he make much of it. For, 1. Melancholy affects both head and heart; it affords both fear and sadness, and deformed, misshapen, delirious imaginations to work upon, than which nothing can be more for his purpose.[341] For where the heart trembles and the head is darkened, there every object is misrepresented. The ideas of the brain are monstrous appearances, reflected from opaque and dark spirits, so that Satan hath no more to do but to suggest the new matter of fear. For that question, Whether the man be converted, &c., being once started, to a mind already distempered with fear, must of itself, it being a business of so high a nature, without Satan’s further pursuit, summon the utmost powers of sadness and misreprehension[342] to raise a storm. 2. Besides, the impressions of melancholy are always strong. It is strong in its fears, or else men would never be tempted to destroy themselves; it is strong in its mistakes, or else they could never persuade themselves of the truth of foolish, absurd, and impossible fancies; as that of Nebuchadnezzar, who by a delusive apprehension, believing himself to be a beast, forsook the company of men, and betook to the fields to eat grass with oxen. The imaginations of the melancholic are never idle, and yet straitened or confined to a few things; and then the brain, being weakened as to a true and regular apprehension, it frames nothing but bugbears, and yet with the highest confidence of certainty. 3. These impressions are usually lasting, not vanishing as an early dew, but they continue for months and years. 4. And yet they have only so much understanding left them as serves to nourish their fears. If their understanding had been quite gone, their fears would vanish with them, as the flame is extinguished for want of air; but they have only knowledge to let them see their misery, and sense to make them apprehensive of their pain.[343] And therefore will they pray with floods of tears, unexpressible groanings, deepest sighing, and trembling joints, to be delivered from their fears. 5. They are also apt after ease of their troubles to have frequent returns. What disposition, all these things being considered, can be more exactly shaped to serve Satan’s turn? If he would have men to believe the worst of themselves, he hath such imaginations to work upon as are already misshapen into a deformity of evil surmising. Would he terrify by fears or distress by sadness? he hath that already, and it is but altering the object, which oftentimes needs not—for naturally the serious melancholic employs all his griefs upon his supposed miserable estate of soul, and then he hath spiritual distress. Would he continue them long under their sorrows, or take them upon all occasions at his pleasure, or act them to a greater height than ordinary? still the melancholic temper suits him. This is sufficient for caution, that we take special care of our bodies, for the preventing or abating of that humour by all lawful means, if we would not have the devil to abuse us at his will.
[6.] Sickness or death-bed is another solemn occasion which the devil seldom misseth with his will. Death is a serious thing; it represents the soul and eternity to the life. While they are at a distance, men look slightly upon these; but when they approach near to them, men usually have such a sight of them as they never had before. We may truly call sickness and death-bed an hour of temptation, which Satan will make use of with the more mischievous industry, because he hath but ‘a short time’ for it. That is the last conflict, and if he miss that, we are beyond his reach for ever. So that in this case Satan encourageth himself to the battle with a now or never. And hence we find that it is usual for the dying servants of God to undergo most sharp encounters. Then to tell them, when the soul is about to loose from the body, that they are yet ‘in their blood’ ‘without God and hope,’ is enough to affright them into the extremest agonies, for they see no time before them answerable to so great a work, if it be yet to do. And withal they are under vast discouragements from the weariness and pains of sickness, their understandings and faculties being also dull and stupified, so that if at this last plunge God should not extraordinarily appear to rebuke Satan and to pluck them out of these great waters, as he often doth, by the fuller interposition of the light of his face, and the larger testimony of his Spirit, after their long and comfortable profession of their faith and holy walking, their light would be ‘put out in darkness,’ and they would ‘lie down in sorrow.’ Yet this I must note, that as desirous as Satan is to improve this occasion, he is often remarkably disappointed, and that wherein he, it may be, and we would least expect, I mean in regard of those who, through a timorous disposition or melancholy, or upon other accounts, are, as I may so say, ‘all their lifetime subject to bondage.’ Those men who are usually exercised with frequent fits of spiritual trouble, when they come to sickness, death-bed, and some other singular occasions of trouble, though we might suspect their fears would then be working, if ever, yet God, out of gracious indulgence to them, considering their mould and fashion, or because he would prevent their extreme fainting, &c., doth meet them with larger testimonies of his favour, higher joys, more confident satisfactions in his love, than ever they received at any time before, and this, to their wonder, their high admiration, making the times which they were wont to fear most, to be times of greatest consolation. This observation I have grounded not upon one or two instances, but could produce a cloud of witnesses for it. Enough it is to check our forward fears of a future evil day, and to heal us of a sighing distemper, while we afflict ourselves with such thoughts as these: If I have so many fears in health, how shall I be able to go through the valley of the shadow of death?
4. I have one thing more to add for these discoveries of these spiritual troubles, and that is to shew you the engines by which Satan works them, and they are these two, sophistry and fears.
I. As to his sophistry, by which he argues the children of God into a wrong apprehension of themselves, it is very great. He hath a wonderful dexterity in framing arguments against their peace; he hath variety of shrewd objections and subtle answers to the usual replies by which they seek to beat him off. There is not a fallacy by which a cunning sophister would seek to entangle his adversary in disputation, but Satan would make use of it; as I might particularly shew you, if it were proper for a common auditory. Though he hath so much impudence as not to blush at the most silly, contemptible reason that can be offered, notwithstanding he hath also so much wit as to urge, though never true, yet always probable arguments. How much he can prevail upon the beliefs of men, in cases relating to their souls, may be conjectured by the success he hath upon the understandings of men, when he argues them into error, and makes them believe a lie. We usually say, and that truly, that Satan cannot in any case force us properly to consent; yet considering the advantages which he takes, and the ways he hath to prepare the hearts of men for his impressions, and then his very great subtlety in disputing, we may say that he can so order the matter that he will seldom miss of his aim. It would be an endless work to gather up all the arguments that Satan hath made use of to prove the condition or state of God’s children to be bad. But that I may not altogether disappoint your expectations in that thing, I shall present to your view Satan’s usual topics, the commonplaces or heads unto which all his arguments may be reduced. And they are,
[1.] Scripture abused and perverted. His way is not only to suggest that they are unregenerate, or under an evil frame of heart, but to offer proof that these accusations are true. And because he hath to do with them that profess a belief of Scriptures as the oracles of God, he will fetch his proofs from thence, telling them that he will evidence what he saith from Scripture. Thus sometimes he assaults the weaker, unskilful sort of Christians, Thou art not a child of God; for they that are so are enlightened, translated from darkness, they are the children of the light; but thou art a poor, ignorant, dark, blind creature, and therefore no child of God. Sometimes he labours to conclude the like from the infirmities of God’s children, abusing to this purpose that of 1 John iii. 9, ‘He that is born of God doth not commit sin,’ and ‘he cannot sin, because he is born of God,’ Thus he urgeth it, Can anything be more plainly and fully asserted? Is not this scripture? Canst thou deny this? Then he pursues, But thou sinnest often; that is thine own complaint against thyself, thy conscience also bearing witness to the truth of this accusation; therefore thou canst be no child of God. Sometimes he plays upon words that are used in divers senses—a fit engine for the devil to work by—for what is true in one sense will be false in another; and his arguing is from that which is true to that which is false. I remember one that was long racked with that of Rev. xxi. 8, ‘The fearful and unbelieving,’ &c., ‘shall have their part in the lake which burns with fire and brimstone.’ From whence the party thus argued: The proposition is true, because it is scripture, and I cannot deny the assumption. ‘Fearful I am, because I am doubtful of salvation; and unbelieving I am, for I cannot believe that I am regenerate, or in a state of grace, and therefore I cannot avoid the conclusion.’ To the same purpose he disputes against some from 1 John iv. 18, ‘There is no fear in love: but perfect love casteth out fear; but thou art full of fears, therefore thou lovest not God.’ Sometimes he makes use of those scriptures that make the prevailing degree of our love and respects to God above the world and the things of this life, to be the characters of true grace; as that of John, ‘If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him;’ and that of Christ, ‘If a man love anything more than me, he is not worthy of me: he that forsakes not all for me cannot be my disciple,’ &c. Then he urgeth upon them their love of the world, and unwillingness to part with their estates; and so brings the conclusion upon them. Instances might be infinite; but by these you may judge of the rest. Let us now cast our eye upon his subtlety in managing his arguments against men. 1. He grounds his arguments on Scripture, because that hath authority with it, and the very troubled conscience hath a reverence to it. 2. He always suits his scriptures, which he thus cites, to that wherein the conscience is most tender. If there be anything that affords matter of suspicion or fear, he will be sure to choose such an arrow out of the quiver of Scripture as will directly hit the mark. 3. Though in the citation of Scripture he always urgeth a sense which the Holy Ghost never intended, yet there will be always something in those scriptures which he makes use of, which, in words at least, seem to favour his conclusion; as appears in the instances now given. For when he would conclude a man not to be a child of God because of his ignorance, something of his argument is true: it may be the man is sensible that his knowledge is but little, compared with the measures which some others have; or that he is at a loss or confused in many doctrinal points of religion; or hath but little experience in many practical cases, &c. This as it is true, so it is his trouble; and whilst he is poring upon his defect, Satan claps an arrest upon him of a far greater debt than God chargeth upon him, and from scriptures that speak of a total ignorance of the fundamentals of religion, as that there is a God, that Christ Jesus is God and man, the Redeemer of mankind by a satisfaction to divine justice, &c., or of a wilful ignorance of the worth of the proffer of the gospel, or its reality, which is discovered in the refusal of the terms thereof, he concludes him to be in a state of darkness; whereas the ignorance which the man complains of is not the ignorance which those scriptures intend. So in the next instance, the sins which a child of God complains of are those of daily incursion, which he labours and strives against; but that committing sin mentioned in the text hath respect to the Gnostics, who taught a liberty in sinning, and fancied a righteousness consistent with the avowed practice of iniquity. Hence doth John, 1 Epist. iii. 7, directly face their opinion in these terms, ‘Little children, let no man deceive you; he that doth righteousness is righteous;’ and, ‘He that is born of God’ neither doth nor can avouch a liberty of sinning, it being contrary to the principles of the new nature. So that the miscarriages of infirmity which the child of God laments in himself are not the same with that of the text, upon which Satan grounds the accusation. The like may be said of the third instance, from Rev. xxi. 18. The threatening there is against such a fear to lose the comforts of the world, that they dare not believe the gospel to be true, and accept it accordingly; which is nothing to those fears and doubtings that may be in a child of God, in reference to his happiness. Thus in all the rest the fallacy lies in misapplying the Scripture, to suit them to that wherein the conscience is tender, under a sense which was never intended by them; yet in another sense, the thing charged upon the conscience is true. (4.) Yet is Satan so subtle, that when he disputes by such fallacious arguments, he chiefly endeavours to draw off the defendant’s eye and consideration from that part of the argument wherein its weakness lies, which in this case is always in the abuse of the scripture to a wrong sense. This he doth, partly from the advantage which he hath from the reverence that they carry to Scripture; they believe it to be true, and are not willing to suspect the sense; and many are so weak that if they should, Satan is so cunning that he can easily baffle them in any distinction that they can make. And partly from the sense they have of that whereof they are accused, they feel themselves so sore in that place, and for that very end doth Satan direct his scripture to hit it, that they readily take it for granted that the hinge of the controversy turns upon it, and that the whole dispute rests upon it. Now Satan having these fair advantages, by a further improvement of them hides the weakness of his argument. For, [1.] He takes that sense of the Scripture, in which he misapplies it, for granted, and that with great confidence, making as if there were no doubt there. [2.] He turns always that part of the argument to them which they can least answer, pressing them eagerly with the matter of charge, which they are as ready to confess as he is to accuse them of, and aggravating it very busily. And because the unskilful have no other direction for the finding the knot of the controversy than Satan’s bustle—though he, like the lapwing, makes the greatest noise when he is furthest from his nest, on purpose to draw them into a greater mistake—they look no further; and then, not being able to answer, they are soon cast, and striking in with the conclusion against themselves, they multiply their sorrows, and cry out of themselves as miserable.
[2.] Another piece of his sophistry is, the improving certain false notions, which Christians of the weaker sort have received, as proofs of their unregeneracy or bad condition. As there are vulgar errors concerning natural things, so there are popular errors concerning spiritual things. These mistakes in a great part have their original from the fancies or misapprehensions of unskilful men. Some indeed have, it may be, been preached and taught as truths, others have risen without a teacher from mere ignorance, being the conclusions and surmises which weak heads have framed to themselves, from the sayings or practices of men, which have not been either so cleared from the danger of mistake, or not so distinctly apprehended as was necessary. These false inferences, once set on foot, are traditionally handed down to others, and in time they gain among the simple the opinion of undoubted truths. Now, wherever Satan finds any of these that are fit for his purpose—for to be sure whatever mistake we entertain, he will at one time or other cast it in our way—he will make it the foundation of an argument against him that hath received it, and that with very great advantage. For a falsehood in the premises will usually produce a falsehood in the conclusion. And these falsehoods being taken for granted, the devil is not put to the trouble to prove them. If then he can but exactly fit them to something in the party which he cannot deny, he forthwith carries the cause, and condemns him by his own concessions, as out of his own mouth.
It is scarce possible to number the false notions which are already entertained among Christians relating to grace and conversion, much less those that may afterward arise. But I shall mention some that Satan frequently makes use of as grounds of objection.
First, It is a common apprehension among the weaker sort, that conversion is always accompanied with great fear and terror. This is true in some, as hath been said, and though none of the preachers of the gospel have asserted the universality of these greater measures of trouble, yet the people, taking notice that many speak of their deep humiliations in conversion, and that several authors have set forth the greatness of distress that some have been cast into on that occasion—though without any intention of fixing this into a general rule—have from thence supposed that all the converted are brought to their comforts through the flames of hell. Upon this mistake the devil disquiets those that have not felt these extreme agonies of sorrow in themselves, and tells them that it is a sure sign that they are not yet converted. Though it is easy for a man that sees the falsehood of the notion to answer the argument, yet he that believes it to be true cannot tell what to say, because he finds he never was under such troubles, and now he begins to be troubled because he was not troubled before, or, as he supposeth, not troubled enough.
Second, Another false notion is, that a convert can give an account of the time and manner of his conversion. This is true in some, as in Paul and some others, whose change hath been sudden and remarkable, though in many this is far otherwise; who can better give account that they are converted, than by what steps, degrees, and methods they were brought to it. But if any of these receive the notion, they will presently find that Satan will turn the edge of it against them, and will tell them that they are not converted, because they cannot nominate the time when, nor the manner how, such a change was wrought.
Third, Some take it for granted that conversion is accompanied with a remarkable measure of gifts for prayer and exhortation; and then the devil objects it to them, that they are not converted, because they cannot pray as others, or speak of the things of God so readily, fluently, and affectionately as some others can. Thus the poor, weak Christian is baffled for want of abilities to express himself to God and men.
Fourth, False notions about the nature of faith are a sad stumbling-block to some. Many suppose that saving faith is a certain belief that our sins are pardoned, and that we shall be saved, making faith and assurance all one. This mistake is the deeper rooted in the minds of men because some have directly taught so, and those men of estimation, whose words are entertained with great reverence by well-meaning Christians. For whom notwithstanding this may be pleaded in excuse, that they have rather described faith in its height than in its lowest measures. However it be, those that have no other understanding of the nature of faith can never answer Satan’s argument, if he takes them at any time at the advantage of fear or doubting: for then he will dispute thus, Faith is a belief that sins are pardoned, but thou dost not believe this, therefore thou hast no faith. Oh, what numbers of poor doubting Christians have been distressed with this argument!
Fifth, Some take it for a truth that growth of grace is always visible, and the progress remarkable. And then because they can make no such discovery of themselves, the devil concludes their grace to be counterfeit and hypocritical.
Sixth, Of like nature are some mistaken signs of true grace, as that true grace fears God only for his goodness. And then if there be any apprehension of divine displeasure impressed upon the heart, though upon the necessary occasion of miscarriage, they, through the devil’s instigation, conclude that they are under ‘a spirit of bondage,’ and their supposed grace not true, or not genuine at least, according to that disposition which the New Testament will furnish a man withal. It is also another mistaken sign of grace, that it doth direct a man to love God singly for himself, without the least regard to his own salvation; for that, they think, is but self-love. Now, when a child of God doth not see his love to God so distinct, but that his own salvation is twisted with it, Satan gets advantage of him, and forceth him to cast away his love as adulterate and selfish. Like to this mistake, but of a higher strain, is that of some, that where grace is true, it is so carried forth to honour God, that the man that hath it can desire God may be honoured though he should be damned. God doth not put us to such questions as these, but upon supposition that this is true, the grace of most men will be shaken by the objection that Satan will make from thence; he can and will presently put the mistaken to it, Canst thou say thou art willing to go to hell, that God may be glorified? If not, where is thy grace? From such mistakes as these he disputes against the holiness of the children of God; and it is impossible but that he should carry the cause against those who grant these things to be true. Satan can undeniably shew them that their hearts will not answer such a description of a convert or gracious heart as these false notions will make. So long then as they hold these notions they have no relief against Satan’s conclusions; no comfort can be administered till they be convinced that they have embraced mistakes for truths. And how difficult that will be in this case, where the confidence of the notion is great, and the suspicion strong, that the defect is only in the heart, hath been determined by frequent experience already.
[3.] The third piece of Satan’s sophistry from whence he raiseth false conclusions, is his misrepresentation of God. In this he directly crosseth the design of the Scriptures, where God in his nature and dealings is so set forth, that the weakest, the most afflicted and tossed, may receive encouragement of acceptance, and of his fatherly care over them in their saddest trials. Yet withal, lest men should turn his grace into wantonness, and embolden themselves in sin because of his clemency, the Scriptures sometimes give us lively descriptions of his anger against those that wickedly presume upon his goodness, and continue so to do. Both these descriptions of God should be taken together, as affording the only true representation of him. He is so gentle to the humbled sensible sinner, that ‘he will not break their bruised reed, nor quench their smoking flax,’ [Mat. xii. 20.] And so careful of health that, for their recovery, he will not leave them altogether unpunished, nor suffer them to ruin themselves by a surfeit upon worldly comforts; yet with ‘the froward he will shew himself froward,’ Ps. xviii. 26. And ‘as for such as turn aside unto their crooked ways, the Lord shall lead them forth with the workers of iniquity,’ Ps. cxxv. 5. He will ‘put out the candle of the wicked,’ for he sets them in ‘slippery places, &c., so that they are cast down into destruction, and brought into desolation as in a moment; they are consumed with terrors,’ [Ps. lxxiii. 19.] Now Satan will sometimes argue against the children of God, and endeavour to break their hopes by turning that part of the description of God against them, which is intended for the dismounting of the confidence of the wicked, and the bringing down of high looks. By this means he wrests the description of God to a contrary end, and misrepresents God to a trembling afflicted soul. This he doth,
First, By misrepresenting his nature. Here he reads a solemn lecture of the holiness and justice of God, but always with reflection upon the vileness and unworthiness of the person against whom he intends his dart. And thus he argues: Lift up thine eyes to the heavens, behold the brightness of God’s glory: consider his unspotted holiness, his infinite justice. The heavens are not clean in his sight; how much more abominable and filthy then art thou! His eyes are pure, he cannot wink at nor approve of the least sin; how canst thou then imagine, except thou be intolerably impudent, that he hath taken such an unclean wretch into his favour? He is a jealous God, and will by no means acquit the guilty; canst thou then with any show of reason conclude thyself to be his child? He beholds the wicked afar off; he shuts out their prayer; he laughs at their calamity; he mocks when their fear comes; and therefore thou hast no cause to think that he will hear thy cry, though thou shouldst make many prayers. It cannot be supposed that he will incline his ear. It is his express determination, that if any man regard iniquity in his heart, the Lord will not hear his prayer. This, and a great deal more will he say. And while Satan speaks but at this rate, we may call him modest, because his allegations are in themselves true, if they were applied rightly. Sometimes he will go further, and plainly belie God, speaking incredible falsehoods of him: but because these properly appertain to a higher sort of troubles, of which I am next to speak, I shall not here mention them. However, if he stops here, he saith enough against any servant of God that carries a high sense of his unworthiness. For being thus brought to the view of these astonishing attributes, he is dashed out of countenance, and can think no other, but that it is very unlikely that so unworthy a sinner should have any interest in so holy a God. Thus the devil affrights him off, turning the wrong side of the description of God to him; and in the meantime hiding that part of it that speaks Gods wonderful condescensions, infinite compassions, unspeakable readiness to accept the humble, broken-hearted, weary, heavy-laden sinner, that is prostrate at his footstool for pardon. All which are on purpose declared in the description of God’s nature, to obviate this temptation, and to encourage the weak.
Second, He misrepresents God in his providence. If God chastise his children by any affliction, Satan perversely wrests it to a bad construction, especially if the affliction be sharp, or seem to be above their strength, or frequent, and most of all if it seem to cross their hopes and prayers; for then he argues, These are not the chastisements of sons. God indeed will visit their transgressions with rods, but his dealing with thee is plainly of another nature, for he ‘breaketh thee with his tempests,’ And whereas he corrects his sons that serve him in measure, thou art bowed down with thy trouble to distress and despair: but he will lay no more upon his sons than they are able to bear. He will not always chide his servants; but thou art afflicted every morning. And besides, if thou wert pure and upright, surely now he would awake for thee, and make the habitation of thy righteousness prosperous: for to his sons he saith, ‘Call upon me in the day of trouble, I will deliver thee; and thou shalt glorify me,’ Ps. l. 15. Hence comes the complaint of many, that they are not regenerated, because they think God deals not with them as with others. Oh, say they, we know God chastiseth ‘every son whom he receiveth;’ but our case is every way different from theirs, our troubles are plagues, not rods; our cry is not heard, our prayers disregarded, our strength faileth us, our hearts fret against the Lord, so that not only the nature and quality of our affections, but the frame of our heart under them, in not enduring the burden,—which is the great character of the chastisement of sons, Heb. xii. 7,—plainly evinceth that we are under God’s hatred, and are not his children. This objection, though it might seem easy to be answered by those that are not at present concerned, yet it will prove a difficult business to those that are under the smart of afflictions. How much a holy and wise man may be gravelled by it, you may see in Ps. lxxii., where the prophet is put to a grievous plunge upon this very objection; ver. 14, ‘All the day long have I been plagued, and chastised every morning.’
And yet in all this Satan doth but play the sophister, working upon the advantages which the nature of the affliction and the temper of men’s hearts do afford him. For, 1. Afflictions are a great depth, one of the secrets of God, so that it is hard to know what God intends by them. 2. The end of the Lord is not discovered at first, but at some distance, when the fruits thereof begin to appear. 3. The mind of the afflicted cannot always proceed regularly in making a judgment of God’s design upon them: especially at first, when it is stounded by the assault, and all things in confusion; faith is to seek, patience awanting, and love staggering. After it hath recollected itself, and attained any calmness to fit it for a review of the ways of God and of the heart, it is better enabled to fix some grounds of hope: Lam. iii. 19-21, ‘This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope,’ 4. Afflictions have a light and a dark side, and their appearances are according to our posture in which we view them: as some pictures, which if we look upon them one way, they appear to be angels, if another way, they seem devils. 5. Some men in affliction do only busy themselves in looking upon the dark side of affliction. Their disposition, either through natural timorousness or strong impressions of temptation, is only to meditate terrors, and to surmise evils. These men out of the cross can draw nothing but the wormwood and the gall, while others, that have another prospect of them, observe mixtures of mercy and gentleness, and do melt into submission and thankfulness. These, considered together, are a great advantage to Satan in disputing against the peace of God’s afflicted children, and it often falls out, that as he doth misrepresent God’s design, so do they, urged by temptation, upon that account misjudge themselves.
Third, He also misrepresents God in the works of his Spirit. If God withdraw his countenance, or by his Spirit signifies his displeasure to the consciences of any, if he permit Satan to molest them with spiritual temptations, presently Satan takes occasion to put his false and malignant interpretation upon all; he tells them that God’s hiding his face is his casting them off; that the threatenings signified to their conscience are plain declarations that their present state is wrath and darkness; that Satan’s molestations by temptations shew them to be yet under his power; that the removal of their former peace, joy, and sensible delight which they had in the ways of God is beyond contradiction an evidence that God hath no delight in them, nor they in him; that their faith was but that of temporaries, their joy but that of hypocrites, which is only for a moment. How often have I heard Christians complaining thus: We cannot be in a state of grace; our consciences lie under the sense of God’s displeasure, they give testimony against us, and we know that testimony is true, for we feel it. It is true, time was when we thought we had a delight in hearing, praying, meditating, but now all is a burden to us, we can relish nothing, we can profit nothing, we can remember nothing. Time was when we thought we had assurance, and our hearts rejoiced in us; sometimes we have thought our hearts had as much of peace and comfort as they could hold, now all is vanished, and we are under sad fears; if God had had a favour to us, would he have dealt thus with us? Thus are they cheated into a belief that they never had any grace; they take all for granted that is urged against them; they cannot consider God’s design in hiding his face, nor yet can they see how grace acts in them under these complainings; how they express their love to God in their desires and pantings after him, in their bewailing of his absence, in abhorring and condemning themselves, &c.; but their present feeling—and an argument from sense is very strong—bears down all before it.
Thus doth Satan frame his arguments from misrepresentations of God, which, though a right view of God would easily answer them, yet how difficult it is for a person in an hour of temptation to dispel, by a right apprehension of the ways of the holy God, doth abundantly appear from Ps. lxxvii., where the case of Asaph, or whoever else he was, doth inform us—1. That it is usual for Satan, for the disquieting of the hearts of God’s children, to offer a false prospect of God. 2. That this overwhelms their hearts with grief, ver. 3. 3. That the more they persist in the prosecution of this method, under the mists of prejudice, they see the less, being apt to misconstrue everything in God to their disadvantage, ver. 3, ‘I remembered God, and was troubled.’ 4. The reason of all that trouble lies in this, that they can only conclude wrath and desertion from God’s carriage toward them. 5. That till they look upon God in another method, and take up better thoughts of him and his providences, even while they carry the appearance of severity, they can expect no ease to their complainings. For before the prophet quitted himself of his trouble, he was forced to acknowledge his mistake, ver. 10, in the misconstruction he made of his dealings, and to betake himself to a resolve of entertaining better thoughts of God, ver. 7. His interrogation, ‘Will the Lord cast off for ever?’ &c., shews indeed what he did once think, being misled by Satan, but withal that he would never do so again. ‘Will the Lord cast off for ever?’ is not here the voice of a despairing man, but of one that, through better information, hath rectified his judgment, and now is resolved strongly to hold the contrary to what he thought before: as if he should say, It is not possible that it should be so; he will not cast off for ever, and I will never entertain such perverse thoughts of God any more. 6. But before they can come to this, it will cost them some pains and serious thoughts. It is not easy to break these fetters, to answer this argument, but they that will do so must appeal from their present sense to a consideration of the issues of these dealings upon other persons, or upon themselves at other times; for the prophet, ver. 5, ‘considered the days of old, and the years of ancient times;’ and ver. 6, he also made use of his own experience, calling to remembrance that after such dealings as these, God by his return of favour gave him ‘songs in the night.’
[4.] Another common head from whence this great disputant doth fetch his arguments against the good condition and state of God’s servants, is their sin and miscarriages. Here I shall observe two or three things in the general concerning this, before I shew how he draws his false conclusions from thence. As,
First, That with a kind of feigned ingenuity[344] he will grant a difference betwixt sin and sin—betwixt sins reigning and not reigning, sins mortified and not mortified; betwixt the sins of the converted and the unconverted; and upon this supposition he usually proceeds. He doth not always, except in case of great sins, argue want of regeneration from one sin; for that argument, This is a sin, therefore thou art not a convert, would be easily answered by one that knows the saints have their imperfections; but he thus deals with men: These sins whereof thou art guilty are reigning sins, such as are inconsistent with a converted estate, and therefore thou art yet unregenerated.
Second, He produceth usually, for the backing of his arguments, such scriptures as do truly represent the state of men unsanctified; but then his labour is to make the parties to appear suitable to the description of the unregenerate. And to that purpose he aggravates all their failings to them; he makes severe inquiries after all their sins, and if he can charge them with any notorious crime, he lays load upon that, still concluding that a regenerate person doth not sin at such a rate as they do.
Third, This is always a very difficult case; it is not easy to answer the objections that he will urge from hence; for, (1.) If there be the real guilt of any grievous or remarkable scandal which he objects, the accused party, though never so knowing, or formerly never so holy, will be hardly put to it to determine anything in favour of his estate. [1.] The fact cannot be denied. [2.] The Scripture nominates particularly such offences as render a man unfit for the kingdom of God. [3.] Whether in such cases grace be not wholly lost, is a question in which all are not agreed. [4.] However, it will be very doubtful whether such had ever any grace. The Scripture hath given no note of difference to distinguish betwixt a regenerate and unregenerate person in the acts of murder, adultery, fornication, &c. It doth not say the regenerate commits an act of gross iniquity in this manner, the unregenerate in that, and that there is a visible distinction betwixt the one and the other, relating to these very acts. And whatever may be supposed to be the inward workings of grace in the soul, while it is reduced to so narrow a compass as a spark of fire raked up in ashes, yet the weight of present guilt upon the soul, when it is charged home, will always poise it toward the worst apprehensions that can be made concerning its state. Former acts of holiness will be disowned under the notion of hypocrisy; or if yet owned to be true, they will be apt to think that true grace may be utterly lost. Present acts of grace they can see none, so that only the after-acts of repentance can discover that there is yet a being and life of grace in them, and till then they can never answer Satan’s argument from great sins. But, (2.) In the usual infirmities of God’s children the case is not so easy. For the Scriptures give instances of some whose conversations could not be taxed with any notorious evils; who, though they were not ‘far from the kingdom of God,’ yet were not ‘of the kingdom of God,’ [Mark xii. 34:] a freedom then from great sins is not pleadable as an undoubted mark of grace. And if others that are not converted may have no greater infirmities than some that are, the difference betwixt the one and the other must depend upon the secret powers of grace giving check to these infirmities and striving to mortify them; and this will be an intricate question. The apostle, Rom. vii. 15, notes indeed three differences betwixt the regenerate and unregenerate in this case of sins of infirmity. [1.] Hatred of the sin before the commission of it: ‘What I hate, that do I.’ [2.] Reluctancy in the act: ‘What I would, that do I not.’ [3.] Disallowance after the act: ‘That which I do, I allow not.’ Yet seeing natural light will afford some appearances of disallowance and reluctancy, it will still admit of further debate whether the principles, motives, degrees, and success of these strivings be such as may discover the being and power of real grace.
While Satan doth insist upon arguments from the sins of believers for the proof of an unconverted estate, he only aims to make good this point, that their sins are reigning sins, and consequently that they cannot be in so good a condition as they are willing to think. And to make their sins to carry that appearance, his constant course is to aggravate them all he can. This is his design, and the means by which he would effect it. His great art in this case is to heighten the sins of the regenerate. This he doth many ways. As,
(1.) From the nature of the sin committed, and the manner of its commission; and this he chiefly labours, because his arguments from hence are more probable, especially considering what he fixeth upon usually is that which may most favour his conclusion: as, [1.] If any have fallen into a great sin which a child of God doth but rarely commit, then he argues against him thus: They that are in Christ do mortify the flesh with the affections and lusts, they cast away the works of darkness; and these works of the flesh are manifest, Gal. v. 19, ‘Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations,’ &c. ‘Because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience.’ ‘Be not therefore partakers with them;’ ‘have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness,’ Eph. v. 6, 11. But thou hast not put these away, nor mortified them, as thy present sin doth testify, therefore thou art no child of God. [2.] If any do more than once or twice relapse into the same sin, suppose it be not so highly scandalous as the former, then he pleads from thence that they are backsliders in heart, that they have broken their covenant with God, that they are in bondage to sin. Here he urgeth, it may be, that of 2 Pet. ii. 19, 20, ‘Of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he brought in bondage.... The dog is returned to his vomit.’ [3.] Or if any have by any offence more remarkably gone against their knowledge or violated their conscience, then he tells them that they sin wilfully, that they reject the counsel of the Lord, that they are the servants of sin; ‘for his servants ye are to whom ye obey,’ Rom. vi. 16; ‘and that where there is grace, though they may fall, yet it is still against their wills,’ &c. [4.] If he have not so clear ground to manage any of the former charges against them, then he argues from the frequency of their various miscarriages. Here he sets their sins in order before them, rakes them all together, that he may oppress them by a multitude, when he cannot prevail by an accusation from one or two acts; and his pleading here is, Thou art nothing but sin, thy thoughts are evil continually, thy words are vain and unprofitable, thy actions foolish and wicked, and this in all thy employments, in all relations, at all times. What duty is there that is not neglected or defiled? what sin that is not some way or other committed? &c. Can such a heart as thine be the temple of the Holy Ghost? For the temple of the Lord is holy, and his people are washed and cleansed, &c.
These are all of them strong objections, and frequently made use of by Satan, as the complaints of the servants of God do testify, who are made thus to except against themselves: If our sins were but the usual failings of the converted, we might comfort ourselves, but they are great, they are backslidings, they are against conscience, they are many; what can we judge but that we have hitherto deceived ourselves, and that the work of conversion is yet to do? The objections that are from great sins, or from recidivation[345] or wilful violation of conscience, do usually prevail for some time against the best that are chargeable with them; they cannot determine that they are converted, though they might be so, so long as they cannot deny the matter of fact upon which the accusation is grounded. Till their true repentance give them some light of better information, they are in the dark, and cannot answer the argument. Jonah being imprisoned in the whale’s belly for his stubborn rebellion, at first concluded himself a castaway: chap. ii. 4, ‘Then I said, I am cast out of thy sight.’ Neither could he think better of himself till, upon his repentance, he recovered his faith and hope of pardon: ‘Yet will I look again toward thy holy temple.’ Yea, those objections that are raised from the multitude and frequency of lesser failings, though they may be answered by a child of God while his heart is not overshadowed with the mists and clouds of temptation, yet when he is confused with violent commotions within, his heart will fail him, and till he can bring himself to some composure of spirit, he hath not the boldness to assert his integrity. David was gravelled with this objection: Ps. xl. 12, ‘Innumerable evils have compassed me about, mine iniquities have taken hold upon me, so that I am not able to look up; they are more than the hairs on my head, therefore my heart faileth me.’
(2.) He aggravates the sinfulness of our condition from the frequency and violence of his own temptations. It is a usual thing for him to give young converts incessant onsets of temptation to sin. Most commonly he works upon their natural constitution; he blows the coals that are not yet quite extinguished, and that have greater forwardness, from their own inclination, to kindle again, as lust and passion. The first motions of the one, though it go no further than those offers and risings up in the heart, and is there damped and kept down by the opposing principle of grace; and the occasional outbreakings of the other, which he provokes by a diligent preparation of occasion from without, and violent incitations from within, furnish him with sufficient matter for his intended accusations; and sometimes—being, as it were, wholly negligent of the advantages which our tempers give him, or not being able to find any such forwardness to these evils in our constitution as may more eminently serve his ends—he satisfies himself to molest us with earnest motions to any sins indifferently; and all this to make us believe that sin is not crucified in us, which some are more apt to believe, because they observe their temptations to these sins to importune them more, and with greater vehemency, than they were wont to do before; and this doth yet the more astonish them, because they had high expectations that, after their conversion, Satan would fall before them, and their temptations abate; that their natures should be altered, and their natural inclinations to these sins wholly cease; but now, finding the contrary, they are ready to cry out—especially when Satan violently buffets them with this objection—We are yet in our sins, and under the dominion thereof; neither can it be that we are converted, because we find sin more active and stirring than formerly; it is not then surely mortified in us, but lively and strong. Though in this case it be very plain that temptations are only strong, and sin weak, and that grace is faithfully acting its part against the flesh, arguing, not that grace is so very weak, but that Satan is more busy than ordinary. The sins are not more than formerly, but the light that discovers them more is greater, and the conscience that resents the temptation is more tender. Yet all this doth not at first give ease to the fears that are now raised up in the mind. They find sin working in them; their expectations of attaining a greater conquest on a sudden, and with greater ease, are disappointed, and the desire of having much makes a man think himself poor; and withal they commonly labour under so much ignorance or perverse credulity, that they conclude they consent to everything which they are tempted to, insomuch that it is long before these clouds do vanish, and the afflicted brought to a right understanding of themselves.
(3.) From some remarkable appearances of God doth Satan aggravate our sinful condition. If God shew any notable act of power, he makes the beams of that act reflect upon our unworthiness with a dazzling light. When Peter saw the power of Christ in sending a great multitude of fishes into his net, having laboured all night before and caught nothing, it gave so deep an impression to the conviction of his vileness, that he was ready to put Christ from him, as being altogether unfit for his blessed society: ‘Depart,’ saith he, ‘from me, for I am a sinful man,’ [Luke v. 8.] If God discover the glorious splendour of his holiness, it is enough to make the holiest saints, such as Job and Isaiah, to cry out they are undone, being ‘men of unclean lips,’ Isa. vi. 5; and to ‘abhor themselves in dust and ashes,’ Job xlii. 6. The like may be said of any discovery of the rest of the glorious attributes of God. Of all which Satan makes this advantage, that the parties tempted should have so deep a consideration of their unworthiness as might induce them to believe—as if it were by a voice from heaven—that God prohibits them any approaches to him, and that they have nothing to do to take God’s name within their mouths. And though these remarkable discoveries of God, either by his acts of power and providence, or by immediate impressions upon the soul, in the height of contemplation, have ordinarily great effects upon the hearts of his children, but not of long continuance; yet where they strike in with other arguments, by which they were already staggered as to their interest in God, they mightily strengthen them, and are taken for no less than God’s own determination of the question against them.
But this is not all the use that Satan makes of them; for from hence he sometimes hath the opportunity to raise new accusations against them, and to tax them with particular crimes, which, in a particular manner, seem to prove them unregenerate. For what would seem to be a clearer character of a man dead in trespasses and sins than a hard heart, that can neither be sensible of judgments nor mercies? This he sometimes chargeth upon the children of God, from the great disproportion that they find in themselves betwixt the little sense that they seem to have—and that which is disproportionable, they reckon to be nothing—and the vast greatness of God’s mercy or holiness. I have observed some to complain of utter unthankfulness and insensibleness of heart—from thence concluding confidently against themselves—because, when God hath remarkably appeared for them in deliverances from dangers, or in unexpected kindnesses, they could not render a thankfulness that carried any proportion to the mercy. While they were in the highest admiration of the kindness, saying, ‘What shall I render to the Lord?’ they were quite out of the sight of their own sense and feeling, and thought they returned nothing at all, because they returned nothing equivalent to what they had received. Others I have known, who, from the confusion and amazement of their spirit, when they have been overwhelmed with troubles, have positively determined themselves to be senseless, stupid, past feeling, hardened to destruction; when, in both cases, any might have seen the working of their hearts to be an apparent[346] contradiction to what Satan charged them withal. For they were not unapprehensive either of mercies or judgments; but, on the contrary, had only a greater sense of them than they were able to manage.
(4.) To make full measure, Satan doth sometimes aggravate the miscarriages of those whom he intends to accuse, by comparing their lives and actions with the holy lives of some eminent servants of God, especially such as they have only heard of and not known personally. For so they have only their virtues represented, without their failings. Here Satan takes a liberty of declaiming against them: and though he could never spare a saint a good word out of respect, yet that others might be put out of heart and hope, he will commend the holiness, strictness, care, constancy of dead saints to the skies. And then he queries, Art thou such a one? Canst thou say thou art anything like them, for a heavenly heart, a holy life, a contempt of the world, a zeal for God, for good works, for patient suffering? &c. All this while not a word of their weaknesses. These, saith he, were the servants of the Most High: their examples thou shouldst follow, if thou expectest their crown. Had they any more holiness than they needed? And if thou hast not so much, thou art nothing. What can humility, modesty, and sense of guilt speak in such a case? They go away mourning, their fears increase upon them, and what God hath set before them, in the examples of his servants, for the increase of their diligence, they take to be as a witness against them, to prove them unconverted.
(5.) The last part of Satan’s sophistry is to lessen their graces, that so he may altogether deny them. In this he proceeds upon such scriptures as do assert the fruits of the Spirit, and urgeth for his foundation that none are the children of God but such as ‘are led by the Spirit,’ [Rom. viii. 14;] and that he that hath ‘not the Spirit of Christ is none of his,’ [Rom. viii. 9.] The necessity of faith, love, patience, humility, with the fruits of these and other graces, he presseth; but still in order to a demonstration, as he pretends, that such are not to be found in those whose gracious state he calls into question, and consequently that they are not the children of God.
The rule by which he manageth himself in this dispute is this: The more graces are heightened in the notions, that must give an account of their nature and beings, the more difficult it will be to find out their reality in the practice of them. His design then hath these two parts: 1. He heightens grace in the notion, or abstract, all he can; 2. He lessens it in the concrete, or practice, as much as is possible, that it may appear a very nullity, a shadow and not a substance. I shall speak a little of both.
(1.) As to the first part of his design, he hath many ways by which he aggravates grace in the notion. We may be sure, if it lie in his way, he will not stick to give false definitions of grace, and to tell men that it is what indeed it is not. He is a liar, and in any case whatsoever he will lie for his advantage, if he have hope his lie may pass for current; but he cannot always use a palpable cheat in this matter, where the nature of any grace is positively determined in Scripture, except it be with the ignorant, or where the nature of grace is made a business of controversy among men. I will not make conjectures what Satan may possibly say in belying the nature of grace, to make it seem to be quite another thing than it is; but shall rather shew you the more usual plausible ways of deceit which herein he exerciseth; and they are these that follow:—
First, As the same graces have different degrees in several persons, and these different degrees have operations suitable: some acts being stronger, some weaker, some more perfected and ripened, others more imperfect and immature; so when Satan comes to describe grace, he sets it forth in its highest excellencies and most glorious attainments. You shall never observe him to speak of graces at their lowest pitch, except where he is carrying on a design for presumption, and then he tells men that any wishing or woulding is grace; and every formal ‘Lord forgive me’ is true repentance; but, on the contrary, he offers the highest reach of it that any saint on earth ever arrived at, as essentially necessary to constitute its being; and tells them if they have not that, they have nothing. Let us see it in the particulars.
[1.] Grace sometimes hath its extraordinaries, as I may call them. We have both precept and example of that nature in Scripture, which are propounded, not as the common standard by which the being and reality of grace is to be measured, but as patterns for imitation, to provoke us to emulation, and to quicken us in pressing forward. Of this nature I reckon to be the example of Moses, desiring to be blotted ‘out of God’s book,’ [Exod. xxxii. 32,] whatever he meant by it, in his love to the people; and the like of the apostle Paul, wishing himself to be ‘accursed from Christ for his brethren’s sake,’ [Rom. ix. 3.] Of this nature also we have many precepts; as, ‘rejoice evermore,’ [1 Thes. v. 16,] of ‘waiting and longing for the appearance of Christ,’ [2 Thes. iii. 5,] of ‘rejoicing when we fall into divers temptations,’ [James i. 2,] and many more to this purpose, all which are heights of grace that do rarely appear among the servants of God at any time.
[2.] Grace hath sometimes its special assistances. This is when the occasion is extraordinary; but the grace befitting that occasion is promised in ordinary, and ordinarily received. When God calls any to such occasions, though compared with that measure of grace which usually is acted by the children of God upon ordinary occasions, it is a special assistance of the Spirit. Of this nature is that boldness which the servants of Christ receive, to confess Christ before men in times of persecution, and to die for the truth, with constancy, courage, and joy.
[3.] There are also singular eminences of grace, which some diligent, careful, and choice servants of God attain unto, far above what the ordinary sort arrive at. Enoch had his conversation so much in heaven, that he was said to ‘walk with God,’ [Gen. v. 24.] David’s soul was often full of delight in God. Some in the height of assurance rejoice in God with ‘joy unspeakable, and full of glory,’ [1 Pet. i. 8.] Moses was eminent in meekness, Job in patience, the apostle Paul in zeal for promoting the gospel, &c. Now Satan, when he comes to question the graces of men, he presents them with these measures; and if they fall short, as ordinarily they do, he concludes them altogether graceless.
Second, Satan also can do much to heighten the ordinary work and usual fruits of every grace. His art herein lies in two things. [1.] He gives us a description of grace as it is in itself, abstracted from the weakness, dulness, distraction, and infirmities, that are concomitant with it, as it comes forth to practice. He brings to our view grace in its glory, and without the spots by which our weakness and Satan’s temptation do much disfigure it. [2.] He presents us with grace in its whole body, completed with all its members, faith, love, hope, patience, meekness, gentleness, &c. From both these he sets before those whom he intends to discourage a complete copy of an exact holy Christian; as if every true Christian were to be found in the constant practice of all these graces at all times, on all occasions, and that without weakness or infirmity. Whereas indeed a true Christian may be found sometimes evidently practising one grace, and weak, or at present defective, in another. And sometimes the best of his graces is so interrupted with temptation, so clogged with infirmity, that its workings are scarce discernible.
Third, He hath a policy in heightening those attainments and workings of soul, in things relating to God and religion, which are to be found in temporary believers; which, because they sometimes appear in the unconverted as well as in the converted, though all unconverted men have them not, are therefore called common graces. This he doth that he may from thence take occasion to disprove the real graces of the servants of God; of whom ‘better things, and things that accompany salvation,’ that is, special saving graces, are to be expected, Heb. vi. 9. His way herein is, [1.] To shew the utmost bravery of these common graces; how much men may have, how far they may go, and yet at last come to nothing. For gifts, they may have powerful eloquence, prophecy, understanding of mysteries, faith of miracles. For good works, they may give their estates to relieve the poor. In moral virtues they may be excellent, their illumination may be great; they may taste the ‘good word of God, and the powers of the world to come,’ Heb. vi. 4. Their conversation may be ‘without offence,’ and their conscience honest, as Paul’s was before his conversion. [2.] With these heights of common grace, he compares the lowest degree of special grace. And because the principles, motives, and ends which constitute the difference betwixt these two, are, as it were, underground, more remote from sense and observation, and oftentimes darkened by temptation; he takes the boldness to deny the truth of grace, upon the account of the small, inconsiderable appearance that it makes, confidently affirming that special grace must of necessity make a far greater outward show than these common graces. In what manner, and to what end, Satan doth heighten grace in the abstract, we have seen. It remains that we discover—
(2.) How he doth lessen grace in the concrete. This is the centre of his design. He would not extol grace so much, but that he hopes thereby to ‘condemn the generation of the just,’ and to make it appear that there are few or none that are truly gracious. When he comes to apply all this to the condition of any child of God, he deals treacherously: and his cunning consists of three parts:—
[1.] He compares the present state of any one with whom he deals, to the highest attainments and excellencies of grace; allowing nothing to be grace, but what will answer these descriptions he had already given. Here the tempter doth apparently make use of a ‘false balance, and a bag of deceitful weights.’ For thus he puts them to it: Thou sayest thou hast grace, but thou dost altogether deceive thyself, for indeed thou hast none at all. Compare thyself with others that were in Scripture noted as undoubtedly gracious, and thou wilt see that in the balance thou art lighter than vanity. Abraham had faith, but he believed above hope. Moses and Paul had love, but they manifested it by preferring their brethren’s happiness before their own. David was a saint, but he had a heart ravished with God. The martyrs spoken of in Heb. xi., they could do wonders; they were above fears of men, above the love of the world; they loved not their lives to the death: how joyfully took they the spoiling of their goods! how courageously did they suffer the sharpest torments! Besides, saith he, all the children of God are described as sanctified throughout, abounding with all fruits of righteousness; their faith is working; their love still laborious; their hope produceth constant patience: what art thou to these? That in thee which thou callest faith, or love, or patience, &c., it is not fit to be named with these. Thy fears may tell thee that thou hast no faith, and so may thy works; thy murmurings under God’s hand is evidence sufficient that thou hast no patience. The little that thou dost for God, or especially wouldest do, if it were not for thy own advantage, may convince thee that thou hast no love to him; thy weariness of services and duties, thy confessed unprofitableness under all, do proclaim thou hast no delight in God nor in his ways. He further adds, for the confirmation of all this: Consider how far temporaries may go, that shall never go to heaven. Thou art far short of them; thy gifts, thy works, thy virtues, thy illumination, thy conversation, thy conscientiousness, are nothing like theirs: how is it possible then that such a one as thou, a pitiful, contemptible creature, shouldest have anything of true grace in thee? Thus he makes the application of all the discovery of grace which he presented to them. Though he needs not urge all these things to every one, any one of these particulars frequently serves the turn. When a trembling heart compares itself with these instances, it turns its back, yields the argument, and is ashamed of its former hopes, as those are of their former confidence who flee from battle. Hence then do we hear of these various complaints: one saith, Alas! I have no grace, because I live not as other saints have done, in all exactness. Another saith, I have no faith, because I cannot believe about[347] reason, and contrary to sense, as Abraham did. A third cries out, he hath no love to God, because he cannot find his soul ravished with desire after him. Another thinks, he hath a hard heart, because he cannot weep for sin. Another concludes against himself, because he finds not a present cheerful resolve, while he is not under any question for religion, to suffer torments for Christ. Some fear themselves, because temporaries in some particulars have much out-gone them. You see how complaints may upon this score be multiplied without end; and yet all this is but fallacy. Satan tells them what grace is at the highest, but not a word of what it is at lowest; and so unskilful is a tossed, weak Christian, that he in examining his condition looks after the highest degrees of grace, as affording clearer evidence, and not after the sincerity of it, which is the safest way for trial, where graces are weak. In a word, this kind of arguing is no better than that of children, who cannot conclude themselves to be men, because their present stature is little, and they are not as tall as the adult.
[2.] Another part of his cunning in lessening the real graces of God’s children, is to take them at an advantage, when their graces are weakest, and themselves most out of order. He that will choose to measure a man’s stature while he is upon his knees, seems not to design to give a faithful account of his height. No more doth Satan, who, when he will make comparisons, always takes the servants of God at the worst. And indeed many advantages do the children of God give him, insomuch that it is no wonder that he doth so oft baffle them, but rather a wonder that they at any time return to their comforts. First, Sometimes he takes them to task while they are yet young and tender, when they are but newly converted, before their graces are grown up, or have had time to put forth any considerable fruit. Second, Or when their graces are tired out by long or grievous assaults of temptation, for then they are not what they are at other times. Third, When their hearts are discomposed or muddied with fear, for then their sight is bad, and they can so little judge of things that differ, that Satan can impose almost anything upon them. Fourth, Sometimes he comes upon them when some grace acts his part but poorly, as not having its perfect work, and is scarce able to get through, sticking, as it were, in the birth. Fifth, Or when the progress of grace is small and imperceptible. Sixth, Or while in the absence of the sun, which produceth flowers and fragrancy, and is the time of the singing of birds, Cant. ii. 11, 12, it is forced to cast off its summer fruits of joy and sensible delights, and only produceth winter fruits of lamenting after God, longing and panting after him, justifying of God in his dealings and condemning itself, all this while ‘sowing in tears’ for a more pleasing crop. Seventh, Or while expectations are more than enjoyments: the man it may be promised himself large incomes of greater measures of comforts, ease, or strength, under some particular ordinances or helps which he hath lately attained to, and not finding things presently to answer what he hoped for, is now suspicious of his case, and thinks he hath attained nothing, because he hath not what he would. Eighth, Sometimes Satan shews them his face in this glass when it is foulest, through the spots of some miscarriage. Ninth, Or he takes advantage of some natural defects, as want of tears, which might be more usual in former times, but are now dried up; or from the ebbings and uncertainty of his affections, which are never sure rules of trials. Tenth, Or in such acts that are of a mixed nature in the principles and motives, where it may seem to be uncertain to which the act must be ascribed as to the true parent. The heart of a gracious person being challenged upon any of these points, and under so great a disadvantage, being called out to give a proof of himself, especially in the view of grace set forth in all its excellency and glory, shall have little to plead, but will rather own the accusation. And the rather because,
[3.] It is another part of Satan’s cunning to urge them, whilst they are thus at a stand, with a possibility, nay, a probability of their mistaking themselves, by passing too favourable an opinion formerly of their actions. To confirm them in this apprehension, first, He lays before them the consideration of the deceitfulness of the heart, Jer. xvii. 6, which, being so above all things, and desperately wicked beyond ordinary discovery, makes a fair way for the entertainment of a suspicion of self-delusion in all the former hopes which a man hath had of himself. Satan will plainly speak it: Thou hast had some thoughts and workings of mind towards God, but seeing they carry so great a disproportion to rule and example, and come so far short of common graces, it is more than probable that such poor, weak, confused appearances are nothing. How knowest thou that thine adherence to and practice of the command and services of God are any more than from the power of education, the prevalency of custom, or the impressions of moral suasion? How dost thou know that thy desires after God, and thy delight in him, are any more than the products of natural principles, influenced by an historical faith of Scripture doctrine? It is oftentimes enough for Satan to hint this. A suspicious heart, as it were greedy of its own misery, catcheth at all things that make against it; and hence complains that it hath no grace, because it sees not any visible fruits, or makes not a sufficient appearance at all times when opposed or resisted; or because it wants sensible progress, or gives not the summer fruits of praises, rejoicings, and delights in God; or because it seems not to meet with remarkable improvements in ordinances; or because it cannot produce tears and raise the affections; and because the party doth not know but his heart might deceive him in all that he hath done. Which the devil yet further endeavoureth to confirm, second, By a consideration of the seeming holiness and graces of such as believed themselves to be the children of God, and were generally by others reputed so to be, who yet, after a glorious profession, turned apostates. This being so great and undeniable an instance of the heart’s deceitfulness, makes the poor tempted party conclude that he is certainly no true convert.
Thus have we seen Satan’s sophistry in the management of those five grand topics from whence he draws his false conclusions against the children of God, pretending to prove that they are not converted; or at least if they be in a state of grace, that they in that state are in a very bad, unsuitable condition to it. For if his arguments fall short of the first, they seldom miss the latter mark. This was his first engine. Now follows,
II. The other engine by which he fixeth these conclusions, which, though it be not argumentative, yet it serves to sharpen all his fallacies against the comforts of God’s children—this is fear, which, together with his objections, he sends into the mind. That Satan can raise a storm and commotion in the heart by fear, hath been proved before. I shall now only in a few things shew how he doth forward his design by astonishing the heart with his frightful thunderings.
[1.] His objections being accompanied with affrightments, they pass for strong undeniable arguments, and their fallacy is not so easily detected. Fear, as well as anger, darkens reason, and disables the understanding to make a true, faithful search into things, or to give a right judgment. As darkness deceives the senses, and makes every bush affrightful to the passenger, or as muddied waters hinder the sight, so do fears in the heart disable a man to discover the silliest cheat that Satan can put upon it.
[2.] They are also very credulous. When fear is up, any suggestion takes place. As suspicious incredulity is an effect of joy,—the disciples at first hearing that Christ was risen, ‘for joy believed it not’—so suspicious credulity is the effect of fear. And we shall observe several things in the servants of God that shew a strange inclination, as it were a natural aptitude, to believe the evil of their spiritual estate which Satan suggests to them. As, first, There is a great forwardness and precipitancy in the heart to close with evil thoughts raised up in us. When jealousies of God’s love are injected, there is a violent hastiness forthwith—all calm deliberation being laid aside—to entertain a belief of it. This is more than once noted in the Psalms. In this case, David acknowledgeth this hasty humour, ‘I said in my haste,’ Ps. xxxi. 22, and cxvi. 11. This hasty forwardness to determine things that are against us without due examination, Asaph calls a great weakness: ‘This is my infirmity,’ Ps. lxxvii. 10. Second, There is observable in those that are under spiritual troubles, a great kind of delight, if I may so call it, to hear threatenings rather than promises, and such discourses as set forth the misery of a natural state, rather than such as speak of the happiness of the converted; because these things, in their apprehension, are more suitable to their condition, and more needful for them, in order to a greater measure of humiliation, which they suppose to be necessary. However, thus they add fuel to the flame. Third, They have an aptitude to hide themselves from comfort, and with a wonderful nimbleness of wit and reasoning, to evade and answer any argument brought for their comfort, as if they had been volunteers in Satan’s service to fight against themselves. Fourth, They have also so great a blasting upon their understanding, that Satan’s tempting them to doubt of their good estate is to them a sufficient reason to doubt of it; and that is ground enough for them to deny it, because Satan questions it.
[3.] These fears make all Satan’s suggestions strike the deeper; they point all his arrows and make them pierce, as it were, ‘the joints and marrow;’ they poison and envenom them, to the great increase of the torment and hindrance of the cure; they bind the objections upon them, and confirm them in a certain belief that they are all true.
We have now viewed Satan’s engines and batteries against the servants of the Lord, for the destruction of their joy and peace, by spiritual troubles; but these are but the beginnings of sorrows, if compared with those distresses of soul which he sometimes brings upon them. Of which next.