CXXXIX.

Matt. 5. 5.

SERM. it at first, it will conquer you at last, and so occasion your misery in this, as well as in the world to come. Whereas, could you always keep your spirits calm, and your soul serene in the midst of those various storms and tempests you meet with here below, whatsoever may be without, there will still be happiness and tranquillity within. Yea, our Saviour Himself hath pronounced such to be blessed; "Blessed," saith He, " are the meek, for they shall inherit Ps. 37. 11. the earth.” "The meek shall inherit the earth," saith David, "and shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace." And as to be of such a composed, sedate, meek, and gentle temper, is advantageous to ourselves, so is it very 1 Pet. 3. 4. acceptable unto God: for "the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit is in the sight of God of great price;" it is an ornament, yea an ornament of great price, and that in the esteem of God Himself: and therefore, if you would live quietly within yourselves, or acceptably towards God, you must use all means imaginable to suppress this troublesome and mischievous passion of anger and malice, and learn of Christ your Master to be "meek,

And lowly in heart:" which is the next particular virtue which our Saviour would have us learn of Him: Who certainly hath given us the highest example of it, that ever was or ever can be set before us. It was an eminent instance of His humility, that He being the immortal God should condescend so much as to become a mortal man. That eternity should stoop to time, Heaven bow down to earth, He that made the world be born into it, and the Creator of all things become Himself a creature; who is able to think of it without astonishment, or to speak of it Phil. 2. 6,7. without adoration? That He "Who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God, should make Himself of no reputation, and take upon Him the form of a servant, and be made in, the likeness of men." Oh mystery of mysteries! who is able to dive into the bottom of this Divine humility? And yet, as if this had not been enough, this infinite and all-glorious Person did not only become man, but one of the meanest of men; not only a servant, but the servant of servants. For though He had thousands of glorious Saints and Angels to minister to

Him in Heaven, He came down that Himself might minister to the unworthiest of all creatures, even to men on earth for, as He Himself saith, "the Son of Man came not to Matt.20.28. be ministered unto, but to minister." Indeed, although He was the Supreme Governor and Disposer of all things in the world, yet when He was here below, He chose nothing for Himself out of all things which He had, but the lowest and meanest that could be imagined. His mother, whom He chose to be born of, was none of the greatest ladies of the world, but a poor virgin, fit to be spouse to no greater a person than a carpenter. And though all the palaces in the earth were His, yet He chose to be born in a stable, where He had no other cradle but a manger. And though while a child of twelve years old, He knew who He was, and whence He came, as appears from His answer to His mother, saying, "Wist ye not that I must be about my Luke 2. 49. Father's business?" yet howsoever He humbly submitted and was subject to His mother and the honest carpenter to whom she was espoused, and followed His trade, which as some of the ancients assert, was principally to make ploughs [Justin. and yokes and in this despicable and poor condition the Tryph. p. King of Glory Himself lived, until He was about thirty 186. D. Ed. Ben.] years of age. And when He appeared on the stage of the world, though all the world was His, yet He had not one foot of land in all the world, for "He had not where to lay Luke 9. 58. His head." Neither did He choose to converse with the rich and learned part of the world, but a company of poor and silly fishermen were His continual associates. After which time, He was so far from being honoured or respected of men, and from aspiring after the applause, or enjoying the pleasures of the world, that He was a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief, derided, spit upon, accused, arraigned, condemned by those very persons, who could not pronounce the sentence against Him, had not Himself vouchsafed them breath to do it; nor have moved either hand or tongue against Him, had not He assisted them. And after all this, He submitted to the most vile, most painful, and most ignominious death, that could possibly be inflicted upon the basest of men; being crucified betwixt two malefactors, persons justly condemned to die for

Mart. c.

SERM.

their atrocious crimes and villanies.

And thus, as He came

CXXXIX. into the world, so He went out again in the lowest and meanest manner that possibly He could.

Oh wonder of wonders! that highness itself should become thus lowly, glory and excellency itself thus humble! But tell me then, shall the glorious God of Heaven Himself become thus humble and lowly; and shall we poor mortals upon earth be proud? Shall beauty, glory, majesty, supereminency itself, think no place too mean, no work too low, no service too contemptible, no death too vile for him; and is it possible for such mean, such low, such despicable, such vile, and altogether worthless creatures as we are; is it possible, I say, that we should talk of our honour and dignity, that we should think every thing below us, or that we should be arrogant and conceited of what we have or do? What, poor and proud too? Shall He that had all things be proud of nothing, and shall we that have nothing be proud of all things? What a strange thing is the heart of man become, that was at first so composed, that nothing but infinite goodness itself could fill it; and now the least blast of wind, yea vanity itself immediately swells and puffs it up! And let me tell you, whatever other sins many of you may be free from, I fear there are few, or none, but is guilty of this. But I cannot but sometimes wonder with myself, what it is that men or women are so generally proud of. Is it the largeness of your estate, the fulness of your trade, or the greatness of your credit in the world? Is it the proportion of your bodies, the comeliness of your features, or the applause and honour which you have from others, that you are proud of? But if you be proud of these things, you are proud indeed, but it is of nothing. For these things have no real being in the world, nor any other existence, but only in your own corrupt and deluded fancies. It is true, silver and gold are things; but they are not riches unless you think them so. The same may be said of beauty, which we may shut our eyes against, and wink into blackness and deformity. And as for honour and applause, that is a mere chimera, a dream, a shadow, a very, very nothing which philosophy itself, as well as theology, could never yet define or describe, either its nature, or its seat, what or where it is.

And, though these things may seem paradoxes to you, yet your Saviour knew them to be real truths: and therefore, you never find Him any more desirous of, or concerned about, those things, than as if there were no such things in the world, as really there are not. When He had taken our nature upon Him, He came in and went out of the world again without ever taking notice of those things, unless it was to reprove men for doting on them. He could see nothing upon earth to be proud of: and therefore, though all things were at His service and command, yet He was not only humble Himself, but hath enjoined all His disciples to be so too.

Hence, therefore, if any of you desire to be Christians indeed, the first lesson that you must learn of your Lord and Master, is to be "meek and lowly;" still remembering that you can never think too highly of God, nor too lowly of yourselves. It is for men in Bedlam to please themselves with feathers, to think their prison to be a palace, and their chains to be badges of honour: and so to pride themselves in the vain imaginations of their own distracted fancies. As for such amongst you, who are come unto yourselves, and by consequence unto Christ too, you should carry yourselves like men of wisdom and understanding, that know you have many things to be humbled for, but nothing in the world to be proud of. And therefore, howsoever you are in others', you are still to be vile and base in your own eyes; looking upon yourselves as less than the least of all God's mercies, and greater than the greatest of all sinners. And let me tell you, the lower you are in your own, the higher you will be in God's esteem: "for whosoever exalteth himself shall Luke 14.11. be abased, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted;" "for God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the hum- 1 Pet. 5. 5. ble." So that he that is clothed with humility, need not fear but he shall be adorned with all true grace and virtue whatsoever. And Christ Himself hath here promised, that such amongst you as are "meek and lowly shall find rest to your souls."

III. And so I come to the last thing to be explained in few terms, even what is that "rest" here spoken of. In general, it is rest for our souls, and that both in this, and also

CXXXIX.

SERM. in the world to come. First, even in this life: they that take Christ's yoke upon them, and are "meek and lowly in heart," find unspeakable rest, quiet, and satisfaction in their souls, from the very performance of those duties, and the exercise of those graces, which Christ requireth of them. Insomuch, that howsoever their outward condition be, there cannot but be calmness and tranquillity within. For the soul being made on purpose to love, honour, and obey its Maker, it was so composed, that it cannot but be impatient, restless, and unquiet, whilst it is doing any thing else but what it was designed for: and therefore, as the Lord Him[Is. 48.22.] self hath told us There is no peace unto the wicked:" neither indeed can be; their wickedness itself raising an intestine war in their own bowels, which bears down all before it, and keeps the soul in a continual hurry and confusion. Whereas one that is constant and conscientious in doing what God requires of him, cannot but find a secret kind of peace and satisfaction within himself, arising from the apprehensions that he hath done his duty, and pleased God that made him. Which is certainly the highest happiness that we can attain to upon earth, and an earnest of that everlasting rest which we expect in Heaven, where we shall rest from our troubles, which shall no more befall us; rest from our fears, which shall no more seize on us; rest from sin, which shall no more be in us; rest from Satan, who Rev. 14. 13. shall no more come near us; yea, “we shall rest from all our labours, and our works shall follow us." O glorious rest! when we shall not only rest from whatsoever is evil, but rest in Him that is the chiefest good; where we shall be infinitely more happy than here we can be: when our souls shall solace themselves in the embracements of love itself, and rest in the centre of all perfections: when all the faculties of our souls, and members of our bodies shall be restored to their primitive frame and constitution; and so our whole man shall be capable of perfectly beholding, admiring, and enjoying beauty, glory, and goodness itself. This this, therefore, is the accomplishment of that rest, which they shall find to their souls, who take Christ's yoke upon them, and learn of Him to be meek and lowly.

Thus I have done my duty in explaining these words of