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cannot have enough of it: the interposition of a Selah cannot bar the redoubling of it in my Text.
Every deliverance, every preservation fathers itself upon God: yet, as the soul is the most precious thing in the world, and life is the most precious thing that belongs to the soul, and eternal life is the best of lives, and the danger and loss of this life is the fearfullest and most horrible; chietiy is this greatest Salvation here meant, wherein God intends mosť to bless and be blessed.
Of this Salvation is he the God by preordination, by purchase, by gift: by Preordination; in that he hath decreed it to us from eternity; tpoup.oɛ; Rom. vii, 30: by Purchase; in that he hath bought it for us, and us to it, by the price of his blood; siyopáo9yte; i Cor. vi. 20: by Gift; in that he hath feoft us in it; zápiona ©£8; The gift of God is eternal Life; Rom, vi, 23. Since therefore he decreed it, he bought it, he bestows it, justly is he The God of our Salvation.
Who can, who dares arrogate to himself any partnership in this great work? What power can dispose of the soul's final condition, but the same that made it? Who can give eternity, but he that only hath it?
What but an infinite merit can purchase an infinite glory? Cursed be that spirit, that will offer to share with his Maker. Down with your crowns, 0 ye Glorious Elders, at the foot of him that sits on the throne, with a Non nobis, Domine; Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but to thy Name give the praise. Away with the proud encroachment of the merits of the best saints; of papal largesses, Only our God is the God of our Salvation.
How happy are we the while! All actions are according to the force of the agent: weak causes produce feeble effects; contingent, casual; necessary, certain. Our Salvation therefore, being the work of an infinitely-powerful cause, cannot be disappointed. Lo the beauty of Solomon's Dise; Prov. xxx. 31.
Who hath resisted his will ? When we look to our own fleshy hands, here is nothing but discouragement; when we look to our spiritual enemies, here is nothing but terror: but, when we cast up our eyes to the Mighty God, here is nothing but confidence, nothing but comfort.
Comfort ye, comfort ye therefore, Oye Feeble Souls; and send your bold defiances to the Prince of Darkness. Heaven is bigh and hard to reach, Hell is steep and slippery, our Flesh is earthy and impotent, Satan strong and rancorous, Sin subtle, the World allur, ing; all these: yet, God is the God of our Salvation.
Let those infernal Lions roar and ramp upon us; let the gates of Hell do their worst; let the World be a cheater, our Flesh a traitor, the Devil a tyrant; Faithful is he that hath promised, who will also do it. God is the God of our Salvation.
How much more then in these outward temporal occasions, when we have to do with an arm of Aesh! Do the enemies of the Church rage, and snuff, and breathe nothing but threats and death? Make sure of our God: he shall be sure to make them lick our dust. Great Benhadad of the Syrians shall come with his hempen collar to the King of Israel. The very winds and waves shall undertake those Mahometan or Marian powers, that shall rise up against the inheritance of the God of Salvation.
Salvation is rateable, according to the danger from which we are delivered. Since Death therefore is the utmost of all terribles, needs must it be the highest improvement of Salvation, that to our God belong the issues from Death. Death hath here a double lati, tude; of kind, of extent: the kind is either temporal or eternal; the extent reaches not only to the last complete act of dissolution, but to all the passages that lead towards it. Thus the issues from death belong to our God, whether by way of preservation, or by way
of rescue. How gladly do I meet in my Text with the dear and sweet name of our Jesus, who conquered death by dying, and triumphed over hell by suffering, and carries the keys boih of death and hell; Rev. i. 18! He is the God, the Author and Finisher of our Salvation, to whom belong the issues from death.
Look first at the Temporary. He keeps it from us: he fetches us from it.
It is true, there is a Statutum est upon it: die we must: death knocks equally at the hatch of a cottage and gate of a palace: But our times are in God's hand; the Lord of Life hath set us our period; whose Omnipotence so contrives all events, that neither enemy, nor casualty, nor disease can prevent his hour. Were death suffered to run loose and wild, what boot were it to live? now it is tethered up short by that Almighty Hand, what can we fear? If envy repine, and villainy plot against Sacred Sovereignty, God hath well proved upon all the poisons, and pistols, and poniards, and gun-powders of the two late memorable successions, that to him alone belong the issues from death. Go on then, Blessed Sovereign, go on courageously in the ways of your God. The invisible guard of heaven shall secure your royal head. The God of our Salvation shall make you a third glorious instance to all posterities, that unto him belong the issues from death.
Thus God keeps death from us; it is more comfort yet, that he fetches us from it. Even the best head must at last lie down in the dust, and sleep in death. O vain cracks of valour! thou braggest thyself able to kill a man: a worm hath done it; a fly hath done it. Every thing can find the way down unto death: none but the Omnipotent can find the way up out of it. He finds, he makes these issues for all his. As it was with our Head, so it is with the members, Death might seize, it cannot hold. Gustavit, non de glutivit : “ It may nibble at us, it shall not devour us." Behold the only sovereign antidote against the sorrows, the frights of death, Who can fear to lay himself down and take a nap in the bed of death, when his heart is assured that he shall awake glorious in the morning of his resurrection ? Certainly, it is only our infidelity, that makes death fearful. Rejoice not over me, O niy
enemy: though I fall, I shall rise again. O Death, where is thy sting?0 Grave, where is thy victory?
Çast ye one glance of your eyes upon the Second and Eternal
Death; the issues wherefrom belong to our God; not by way of rescue, as in the former, but of preservation. Ex inferno nulla redemptio, is as true as if it were canonical. Father Abraham tells the damned Glutton in the Parable, there is péya xáopa, a great gulph, that bars al return. Those black gates of hell are barred without, by the irreversible decree of the Almighty. Those bold Fabulists therefore, whose impious legends have devised Trajan fetched thence by the prayers of Gregory, and Falconella by Tecia's, suspending the final sentence upon a secundum præsentem injustiniam, take a course to cast themselves into that pit, whence they have presumptuously feigned the deliverance of others.
The rescue is not more hopeless, then the prevention is com fortable. There is none of us, but is naturally walking down to these chambers of death: every sin is a pace thitherwards; only the gracious hand of our God stays us. In ourselves, in our sins, we are already no better than brands of that hell. Blessed be the God of our Salvation, that hath found happy issues from this death. What issues? Even those bloody issues, that were made in the hands, and feet, and side of our Blessed Saviour. That invaluablyprecious blood of the Son of God is that, whereby we are redeemed, whereby we are justified, whereby we are saved. Oh, that our souls might have had leisure to dwell a while, upon the meditation of those dreadful torments, we are freed from; of that infinite goodness, that hath freed us; of that happy exchange of a glorious condition, to which we are freed!
But the public occasion of this day calls off my speech, and invites me to the celebration of the sensible mercy of God, in our late temporal deliverance.
Wherein, let me first bless the God of our Salvation, that hath put it into the heart of his chosen servant to set up an altar in this sacred threshing-floor, and to offer up this day's sacrifice to his name, for the stay of our late mortal contagion. How well it becomes our Gideon to be personally exemplary, as in the beating of this earthen pitcher in the first public act of Humiliation; so in the lighting of this torch of public joy, and sounding the trumpet of a thankful Jubilation! and how well it become us to follow so pious, so gracious an example! Come, therefore, all ye that fear the Lord, and let us recount what he hath done for our souls. Come, let us bless the Lord, the God of our Salvation, that loadeth us daily with benefits; the God, to whom belong the issues of death, Let us bless him, in his infinite Essence and Power; bless him, in his unbounded and just Sovereignty; bless him, in his marvellous Beneficence, large, continual, undeserved; bless him, in his Preservations; bless him, in his Deliverances, We may but touch at the two last.
How is our earth ready to sink under the load of his mercies! What nation under heaven hath not envied and wondered at qur blessings? I do not carry back your eyes to the ancient favours of our God, to the memorable frustrations of foreign invasions, to the miraculous discoveries of treasons, to the successful maintenance of
oppressed neighbourhood. That one mercy I may not forget, that in the shutting up of blessed Queen Elizabeth, the Pope and the then King of Spain, were casting lots for the crown, and palpably plotting for their severally-designed successors; as appears in the public posthume Letters of Cardinal D'Ossat, a witness beyond ex: ception. Three several Briefs were addressed hither by that inclement shaveling of Rome, for the defeating of the Title and Suc, cession of our late sovereign of dear and blessed memory, and his royal issue. Yet, in spite of Rome and Hell, God brought him in, and set him peaceably upon this just throne of his forefathers; and may he perpetuate it to the fruit of those loins, till world and time shall be no more! Amen.
If I must follow the times, let me rather balk that hellish sulphur, mine, than not search it; and yet, who can look at that, any other, wise than the Jews do at the rainbow, with horror and astonishment? What do I tell you of our long peace, our full plenty, our wholesome laws, our easeful government; with a world of these common favours? It is for poor men to reckon, Those two late blessings, if no more, were worthy of immortal memory; the Prince out of Spain, Religion out of the dust. For the one; what a winter was there in all good hearts, when our sun was gone so far southward! how cheerful a spring in his return! For the other; who saw not how Religion began, during those purposely-protracted treaties, to droop and languish, her friends to sigh, her enemies to insult; dar, ing to brave us with challenges, to threaten our ruin? The Lord looked down from Heaven, and
visited this poor vine of his; and hath shaken off these caterpillars from her then-wasțing leaves: now wę live, and it flourisheth.
These would have been great favours of God, even to the best nations; but more to us, who have answered mercies with rebellions. O God, if proad disguises, if gluttonous pamperings, if drunken healths, if wanton dalliances, if bloody oaths, if merciless oppressions may earn blessings from thee, too many of us have super, erogated. Woe is me! these are the measures thou hast had from too many hands. That thou shouldest therefore enlarge thy bounty to an unworthy, unkind, disobedient generation, it is more than we can wonder at; and we could almost be ready to say with Peter, Lord, depart from us, for we are sinful men. Yet the wise justice of the Almighty meant not to cocker us
with mere dainties, with a loose indulgence; but hath thought fit to temper our sweets with tartness, and to strike our backs while he strokes our heads. Ecce in pace amaritudo amarissima : the comfort of our peace was allayed with the bitterness of death. He saw, that, in this common plethory, it was fit for us to bleed: he saw us eels, that would not be caught, but when the waters were troubled: he therefore sent his destroying angel abroad, who laid about him on all sides,
What slaughter, what lamentation, what horror was there in the streets of our mother city! More then twenty thousand families run from their houses, as if those had been on fire over their
heads; and seek shelter in Zoar, and the mountains. Some of them are overtaken by the pursuer, and drop down in the way, and lie there as woeful spectacles of mortality, till necessity, and not charity, could find them a grave. Others pass on; and, for friends, find strangers. Danger made men wisely and unwillingly unhospital. The cousin, the brother forgets his own blood; and the father looks shily upon his own child, and welcomes him with frowns, if not with repulses. There were, that repaid their grudged harbour with infection. And those, that speed best, what with care for their abandoned houses and estate, what with grief for the misery of their forsaken neighbours, what with the rage of those epidemical diseases which they found abroad, (as it is well observed by one, that in a contagious time all sicknesses have some tincture of pestilence,) wore out their days in the deepest sorrow and heaviness. There, leave we them; and return to the miserable metropolis of this kingdom which they left. Who can express the doleful condition of that time and place? The Arms of London are the Red Cross and the Sword: what house almost wanted these? Here was the Red Cross upon the door, the Sword of God's judgment within doors; and the Motto was, Lord, have mercy upon us.
What could we hear, but alarms of death? what could we see, but trophies of death? Here was nothing but gruaning, and crying, and dying, and burying. Carts were the biers; wide pits were the graves; men's clothes were their coffins; and the very exequies of friends were murderous. The carcases of the dead might say, with the sons of the prophets, Behold the place where we lie is too strait for us. New dormitories are bought for the dead, and furnished. Neither might the corpses be allowed to lie single in their earthen beds, but are piled up like faggots in a stack, for the society of their future resurrection. No man survived, but he might say with the Psalmist, that thousands fell at his side, and ten thousands at his right hand. And, if we take all together, the mother and the daughter, surely the number was not much short of David's, though his time were shorter.
It is not without reason, that from the Hebrew word 727 which signifies “ The Plague,” is derived 7272 which signifies “ A Desert:" certainly, the Plague turns the most populous city into a desert. Oh the woeful desolation of this place! It was almost come to Herba tegit Trojam. And, if some infrequent passenger crossed our streets, it was not without his medicated posy at his nose, and his Zedoary or Angelica in his mouth. Every room seemed a pest-house; every scent mortal. Here should he meet one pale ghost muffled up under the throat; another dragging his legs after him, for the tumor of his groin ; another bespotted with the Tokens of instant death. Here, might he hear one shrieking out in a frantic distraction; there, another breathing out his soul in his last groans. What should I say more? This glorious chamber of the kingdom seemed no other, than a dreadful dungeon to her own; a very Golgotha to all beholders : and this proud queen of our British cities sat in the dust of her compassion, howling in the