[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 misreprehension342 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 ingenuity344 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 recidivation345 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 apparent346 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 about347 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.