upon impunity, if he go on in his sin. For, next to exacting the punishment of the offender himself, the most dreadful severity he could have expressed was, not to remit it upon any consideration but this, that some other should undergo it in his stead; and by how much greater and more valuable the person is who undergoes it for us, so much greater and more formidable God's severity appears in remitting it to

us.

Since therefore, in consideration of our pardon, God would admit no meaner sacrifice than the precious blood of his own eternal Son, he hath hereby expressed the utmost indignation against our sin that he could possibly do, unless he had absolutely resolved never to pardon it at all. So that now we have all the reason that heaven or earth can afford us to tremble at his severity, even while we are within the arms of his mercy. For what man in his wits would take encouragement to sin on from a mercy that cost the blood of the Son of God? He that can presume upon such a reason of mercy hath courage enough to outface the flames of hell; and if hell itself had stood open before us, and we had seen the damned ghosts weltering in the flames of it, it would not have given us such a loud and horrible warning of God's severity against our sin, as this tremendous sacrifice of the Son of God doth. If then a mercy that is so secured from being made an encouragement to sin, by the terrible reason and consideration upon which it is founded, cannot deter us from sinning on, there is no wise mercy that we are capable of, and consequently no mercy that the great God can indulge with safety to his authority. For what mercy can be safe from our abuse and presumption, if this be not, that is thus guarded with thunder, and attended

with the utmost severity that mercy could possibly admit of? Wherefore, if after I have seen my Saviour in his agony deprecating with fruitless cries that fearful cup which I deserved; if after I have beheld him hanging on the cross, covered with wounds and blood, and in the bitter agony of his soul heard him crying out, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? and, in a word, if after I have seen that God, to whom he was infinitely dear and precious, turn a deaf ear to his mournful cries, and utterly refuse to abate him so much as one degree or circumstance of a most shameful and tormenting death, in consideration of my pardon; if, I say, after such a horrible spectacle, I have heart enough to sin on, I am a courageous sinner indeed, or rather a desperate one, not to be affected or restrained by all the terrors of hell.

Thirdly, This sacrifice of Christ is also to be considered as a most obliging expression of the love of God and our Saviour to us. For, if God had so pleased, he might have exacted our punishment at our own hands, and made us smart for ever in our own persons; and this notwithstanding we had heartily repented. For though to repent is the best thing a sinner can do, yet it doth not alter the nature of the sin he repenteth of, so as to render it less evil, or less deserving of punishment; nor indeed is repentance a sufficient reason to move the all-wise Governor of the world to grant a public act of pardon and indulgence to sinners; it being inconsistent with the safety of any government, divine or human, so far to encourage offenders, as to indemnify them by a public declaration, merely upon condition of their future repentance and amendment.

For all men are naturally apt to presume that God will be better to them than his word; and therefore, had he declared that he would pardon them upon their repentance without any other reason, this would have encouraged them to hope that he might pardon them, though they repented not at all, or at least though they repented but by halves. Wherefore since our repentance is not a sufficient reason to oblige God to grant a public pardon to sinners, and since this was the best reason we could offer in our own behalf to move him thereunto, it hence necessarily follows, that he might have justly exacted the punishment of our sin of us, and made us smart for it for ever, notwithstanding the best reason we could have offered him to the contrary. But such was his goodness towards us, as to admit another to suffer in our stead, that so neither we might be ruined, nor our sins be unpunished. And then, that the punishment of our sin might be a sufficient reparation to his injured authority, he admitted his own Son upon his voluntary offering himself to undergo it for us, who, by the dignity and innocence of his person, rendered that temporary death he underwent for us equivalent to that eternal death which we had deserved. Now what a prodigy of love was this, that the God of heaven, whom we had so infinitely offended, should part with his own Son for us, and freely consent that he should undergo our punishment! Which while I seriously consider, it puzzles my conceit, and outreaches my wonder; so that though I have infinite reason to rejoice in it, yet while I am contemplating it, I seem to be looking down from some stupendous precipice, whose height fills me with a sacred horror, and almost

oversets my reason. But oh! the amazing love of the Son of God towards us, that he should put himself in our stead, and interpose his own breast as a living shield between ours and his Father's vengeance! Which, considering the greatness of his person, and of our unworthiness, is such a stupendous expression of love, as no romance of friendship ever thought of! And what is the proper influence of all this love, but to oblige us for ever to God and our Saviour, in the bands of a reciprocal affection; to melt down our stubbornness and enmity against them, and draw us on to our duty with the cords of an invincible endearment? For is it possible my sins should be as dear to me as the Son of God was to his own Father; and yet the Father left him out of love to me, and shall not I leave them out of love to him? And when the Son of God has been so kind to me, as to lay down his life for me, can I be so ingrateful to him, as to dote upon those sins which he hated more than all the shame and torment which he endured on their account; those sins that were the cause of all his sufferings, the thorns that gored his temples, and the nails that pierced his hands and feet? Sure if we are not utterly lost to all that is modest and ingenuous, tender or apprehensive in human nature, it will be impossible for us to resist these endearing instances of the love of God and our Saviour, which carry warmth and fervour enough with them to melt the most obdurate natures.

Fourthly, Christ's death and sacrifice is also to be considered as a sure and certain ground of our hope of pardon, if we repent and amend. For it was upon the virtue of expiatory sacrifices that all man

kind depended for their reconciliation with God; and therefore these sacrifices were a principal part, not only of the religion of the Jews, but of the Gentiles too, who, besides their eucharistical, had their constant expiatory oblations, to atone and pacify their gods. And this more especially in times of public danger and calamity, when they conceived their gods to be most offended with them; at which seasons they are wont to offer their most costly sacrifices, and devote, not only hecatombs of beasts to their altars, but many times the more precious lives of men, women, and children; imagining that the more valuable the life was, the greater virtue there was in it to appease the angry deity. And upon this sacred rite did all the world build their hope of reconciliation with God, as being conscious that by their sin they had forfeited their own lives to him, and that there was no other way to redeem them, but by making a commutation with him, and offering him another life for their own, which was therefore called ἀντίψυχος, i. e. a life for their life; and ἀντίλυτρον, i. e. the price of their redemption. But, alas! so miserably defective were the very best of their sacrifices, that they could not rationally depend on them with any confidence or assurance. For as for the heathen sacrifices, God had never promised to accept them, and it being an act of pure grace and favour in him to admit of such a commutation, it wholly depended on his own good-will, whether he would admit it or no; and, without some express revelation, it was impossible for them to know which way his will was determined in the case. And then even their most precious sacrifices, which were the lives of men, were infinitely short in value D d

VOL. II.