MAster Peacock, the ser­vant of God, in the beginning of his vi­sitation, for the space of two weeks and foure dayes, was full of most Heavenly con­solations; shewing by sweet me­ditations, and gracious ejaculati­ons, the entertainment he found with his God in his sicknes, with whom he so much desired to be acquainted in his health. We are (saith one comming to visit him) miserable comforters: Nay (saith he) Ye are good, for this [Page 2] is the priviledge even of Gods chil­dren, that their very presence af­fords comfort. Sometimes he craved pardon for his actions, & for the circumstances by them badly observed: otherwhile he desired to have some matter gi­ven him to meditate upon. Fi­nally he said, his hope was firm­ly setled on the rock Christ Iesus. He hoped that the Lord would give him a place, though it were in the lowest room of his Saints. And he thanked God he had no trouble of conscience, the Lord did not suffer Satan to vex him; In so much that some seeing his great comfort, feared left he would be overtaken with sorrow before his death: he much re­joyced that the Lord had so dis­posed of him, that he had seen his friēds in the Countrey. Here first was his yeelding unto death [Page 3] suspected, and his hoped reco­very doubted. Calling some of his friends aside, I thought (saith he) I had been in a good estate, but I see it now farre otherwise: For these things my conscience layes a­gainst me: First, I brought up my scholars in Gluttony, letting thē eat their fill of meat, when they mealed with me. This some endeavoured to pull out, by putting into his minde, 1. The preventing of ma­ny inconveniencies. 2. His well known moderation. 3. The great care he took for good con­ference, when they were at table with him. But (saith he) while I was talking, they did undoe them­selves. And further, I did unad­visedly expound places of Scripture at the table many times; and for these I feel now a Hell in my consci­ence. Again, I have procured my own death, by often eating like a beast, [Page 4] when I came jostling up and down to my friends in the Countrey; And now I see before my face those dish­es of meat wherewith I clogged my stomack. Well (saith one to him) If all the things you accuse your self of were undone, would you doe them again? Nay: why then doubt not but a Reprobate would desire to be saved, if a desire would serve the turne: indeed he may have a desire, but of bare willing­nes, not with an intent and purpose in using of the means. Another time a worthy friend of his asking him how he did: he cryed out, Sinne, Sinne, Sinne: What doth any lye on your con­science? Yea. What? My unconsi­deratenes, I did eat too much of such meat to breakfast such a morning: my self being an eye-witnes of his great abstinence, could not choose but admire the tendernes [Page 5] of his self-accusing conscience. Well (said he) God be thanked there is no greater. As we must not extenuate our sinnes, so nei­ther must we too much aggra­vate our sinne. Let drunkards and gluttons have those terrible horrours. I thank God I never con­tinued in any known sinne against my conscience. He was willing that he should pray with him: kneeling down he said, he was then uncapable of prayers. After­ward he kneeled down of his own accord: shortly after he broke out into such speeches, A damnable, wretched &c. these are nor your words (saith one) you cannot deny but you have had good experience of Gods mercies. I cannot. Then be comforted, for whom he loveth once, he loveth to the end. Yet Satan took such advantage of his infirmities, that [Page 6] though he could finde some com­fort, yet no particular assurance. You have lived profitably (said one) I have endeavoured. You are now humbled, and the Lord looks that you should ask mercy. M. Dod was sent for, who being come, they were private awhile, afterwards we comming in to them, M. Dod put him in minde of Gods kindenes: whereof he shewed to him foure parts. 1. To take small things in good part. 2. To passe by infirmi­ties. 3. To be easily intreated. 4. To be intreated for the great­est.

Sir, there is now in you the image of the old Adam, sin and sorrow: there shall be in you the image of the new, holines and happinesse. The life to come may be set out by three things. 1. The estate of itself, happines, [Page 7] holines, and glory. 2. By the the company, every one shall love you better then any one, e­ven the best, can love you here. 3. The place.

There are three differences be­tween the afflictions of the good and of the bad. 1. In the cause, for they come to the good for Gods love. 2. In the measure, as farre as they need, and are a­ble to bear. 3. In the end, for their good.

Of those former doubts we afterwards heard not a word from him. Upon the Sabbath-day he desired to be alone: after noon he was fearfully troubled. In his countenance appeared evi­dent tokens of a sorrowfull minde, born up with a weak body; his spirit was wounded, Satan had foiled him. Those his terrible wrestlings with tentati­ons, [Page 8] gripes of conscience, and restles terrours, none can under­stand, (much lesse expresse) but he which felt them. Sa­tan had winnowed him, and shewed him nothing but chaffe. His tender conscience was goared with the fiery darts of the Devil, pointed with the edge of sinne, and sense of Gods heavy wrath. As through a false glasse, the dazled eye of his astonish­ed and amazed soul, could see nothing but hideously appearing sinne, and the terrible image of death and damnation. He had drunk deeply of the cup of the dreggs of Hell. His ad­versary had represented un­to him his once most gra­cious God, now as a most severe Judge displeased, an­gry, [Page 9] and chiding with him; yea yeelding him up into his clawes: that so by this deadly stratagem, he might take from him all hope of help that way, and so not onely stop the sen­sible flowing of Gods grace, and cut the chains of Gods love, whereby he had tyed him, and would draw him after him, but finally break his Christian heart. Oh that you had seen, or that we that were present had had eyes to have seen his seeming forlone soul. What with barkings of consci­ence, and with the too heavy burthen of sinne, vvaves of fearfull thoughts, blustering blasts, and sur­ging storms of Gods hea­vy displeasure, he vvas [Page 10] tossed, turmoyled, dashed against the rocks of despaire, and more then in danger of his souls ship­wrack: happy were we if nei­ther through frowardnes, nor blindenes of judgement, we did inconsiderately passe by, or pro­phanely deride Gods judge­ments, by thinking that they ei­ther happen casually, or by for­getting of them suddenly. If we could but rightly discerne it, we should finde nothing more profitable, then to have the I­mage of this gracious (though now afflicted) soul in our hearts. Hereby we may see that the righteous being scarcely saved, there is no place for the wicked and ungodly to appeare. And truly we may think that God sent it e­ven for our sake, that we (with whom it is too usuall to dally with the Lord) might know [Page 11] that it is a fearfull thing to fall in­to his hands. Our faith is then tryed in earnest, when as the Lord hideth his face from us. For if we love God above all things, it cannot be but upon the losse of the relish of his favour, or taste of his displeasure, our souls should be in bitternes, prick­ed, tormented, wounded, thrust thorow, yea, and swallowed up with desolation. It is a wonder of the world, how we care­fully will seek physick, use dyet, by any means to avoid a bodily pang, and how careles we are of the unsupportable fits of the souls mortall sicknes. It is not in our power to apprehend grace when we will, and a hard­er matter is it then we can con­ceive, to lift up a poor soul cast down with the sense of Gods wrath. If a violent passion may [Page 12] so farre transport the minde, what may we think of this rest­les trembling, when the soul after long tossings, seeth it self drowned, and wholly over­whelmed with the deluge of sorrow, proceeding from the e­verlasting threats, and shame, and confusion of face in the presence of the Almighty? Consider the body loaden with a burthen, neither portable nor evitable; and thence gather the stranglings of an overladen soul. Consider a man ready to fall from an high Tower unto the Earth; and thence gather the estate of another falling from Heaven to Hell with a spirituall ruine. Consider a childe, when the mother hideth her face from it, and terrifieth it with a Bug­boe; and herein take view of the estate of a poor Christian (whose [Page 13] chiefest happines having therein consisted, (to wit) in being joyn­ed, and united to his Heavenly Father, having now lost his pre­sence, or being affrighted with the Devil, as if he were ready to lay hands on him. Consider the estate of a debtor, cast off by his best Creditours: and gather that of a Christian being banker-out with his God. Consider the estate of a man, once in fa­vour, afterwards adjudged to death by a Prince, without hope of pardon or repriving: and ga­ther that of a Christian, who after his citation and arraign­ment at the Tribunal seat of God, stands condemned, and is whol­ly deprived of obtaining pardon, and delivered into the hands of the Devil. The Lord needs not to seek wilde beasts to punish us, or such like cruell executio­ners [Page 14] of his wrath to torment us, he may finde enough within us; all the furyes and Devils cannot invent a more greivous torment: One by it apprehended needeth not more accusers or torment­ours. His many never-thoughts of sinne (as if he stirred a nest of wasps) come buzzing about his eares, and as a man indebted once laid hold of, make him fast­er daily: his loving friends may stand by the prison and call him, but he being fast fettered, cannot stirre forth. You shall see him now in his purgatory, (not that papisticall sinne-satisfying ficti­on, the Popes jayle) but that hot fiery furnace wherein the Lord trieth his metall, whether it be good or reprobate. And sup­pose that he had died at the worst (as in the Lords justice he might, to the hardening of those [Page 15] that will not be softened) As no man should rather judge him by the inch of his death, then the length of his life; so I for my part neither did in him, nor doe in my self so much feare his death, as I did, and doe desire his life. You may observe the courses which God taketh in vi­siting his children to be divers: some are comfortable and with­out any great admixture of dis­comfort: others heavy, but with­out horrour: others horrible, yet all of them are in the issue gracious. But to leave any fur­ther digression, and to come a­gain to the matter in hand.

When one came unto him, he brake out into these words, Oh how wofull and miserable is my e­state, that thus must converse with hel-hounds! He being with these words strangely moved, went [Page 16] to call some of his best able friends to comfort him. To them he complayned, that the Lord had cursed him. Being de­manded how he knew it: he an­swered, Why! the event sheweth it. It being replyed, Then such and such were cursed▪ he answered, I have no grace. How doe those then? they once had none. I was a foolish glorious Hy­pocrite; It is against the course of Gods proceeding to save me, he hath otherwise decreed, he cannot. Put your trust in God. I cannot, no more then an horse. Doe you desire to beleive? No more theèn a post, then an horsshoe. I know you cannot deny but that you have sought Gods glory. Not sincerely. There is a secret mix­ture of pride and hypocrisy, e­ven in the best. I have no more sense of grace then these curtains, [Page 17] then a goose, then that block. Let the testimony of your life past comfort you, especially in the calling of a Tutour. I did the businesse thereof perfunctorily, when I handled hard Authours, I came often unprepared, and read shame­fully. Be of good courage, and the Lord will comfort your heart. 'It is ended, there is no such matter. Why doe you think so? You shall see the event, God will yet bring it to passe. Tush, tush, trifles. What doe you think of your former Doctrine? Very good. Let it comfort you. It cannot. You desire it could. If it might. There is nothing un­possible to God. Which stands with his decree: Oh, oh, miserable, and wofull, the burthen of my sinne ly­eth heavy upon me: I doubt it will break my heart. Behold your comforts. Nothing to me, I pray [Page 18] you hold your peace, doe not trouble your self idly, you vex me, your words are as daggers to my heart. Another time some of the younger sort said to him, Re­member, Sir, the good counsels that you have given us hereto­fore. Those were ordinary. You may see many others in the like estate. Not such as mine. See David. What doe you speak to me of David? Good Sir, endeavour to settle your minde; Yes, to play with hell-hounds. Will you pray? I cannot. You were wont here­tofore. Yes, by a custom and vain glory. Suffer us to pray for you. Take not the name of God in vain, by praying for a Reprobate. Here you may see the glory of God preferred before his own salva­tion, rather willing to have the means of his salvation neglected, then the Lord dishonoured. Suf­fer [Page 19] us to pray for our selves. Look to it, you would now shew your faculty in praying. Can you say, Amen? No, but in a certain ge­rall fashion. One prayed, and in the mean time he rested most quietly. I pray you (saith he, when prayer was ended) Goe hence to bed, doe not trouble your selves in vain. Let not the Devil delude you, abusing your minde and tongue, I know you speak not these words. I wonder that intelligent Scholars should speak thus. We are perswaded you are in as good estate as our selves. Look how it is with your selves in truth. One that watched with him, asked him, Sir, how can you discern this change by the absence of God, if you never en­joyed his presence? I thought I had it once, but now I see it is farre otherwise. But God deals with [Page 20] you, as he dealt with the Church, Isa. 54.7. He forsook it a while, and hid his face from it, but he returned to it again, and so (no doubt) the case stands with you. Never, add not affliction to the af­flicted; Oh me wretch! groaning pitifully. Hope no worse of your self, then we doe of you. All of us have seen cleerly which way your carriage was still sent, after the spirit: and we are assu­red that you will come to the spirit, howsoever you seem to have lost your way. To all particulars he would answer, I desire grace generally, I did good outwardly, all hypocritically. One asked him, Doe you love such an one? his most dear, and wor­thy to be dear friend. Yes. Why? For his goodnes. Why then you are Gods childe, for by this we know we are translated from [Page 21] death to life, because we own the brethren. Many like forcible proofs he would shift off with his former evasions, and after­wards became more wary a­gainst himself, either loth to grant any thing, or granting it staggeringly, or, what then? fearing lest he should be pres­sed, he wished, that some were put in minde, 1. Of their great care for building, and too small care for Scholars in them. 2. Their gi­ving so long leave of absence from the Colledge, and desired amend­ment.

After noon came a worthy Governour of a Colledge in our University, Dr Ayer Provost of Queens Colledge. and requested him to be of good comfort, and to pluck up his spirit. I cannot. Why can you not? Because I have no grace, no more then a Back­stock. Why doe you think so? [Page 22] By this affliction. Doe you desire grace? I cannot. (He spake most strongly) I can as well leap over the Church. But are you not sorry that you cannot desire it? I cannot. Would you not be in Heaven? I would not. One standing by, said, The Devil himself would, if he could. ‘"By the way, you shall have the o­pinion of a much respe­cted Minister apposite hereto, which he gave in private. A proud man, saith he, will scorne to seek any good from his enemy: so the Devils pride will not let him think himself beholding to God for Heaven, if he might get it."’ You have (said one) the testimony of faith, you love the Brethren. I did not. Doe not you love us? No. This conclusiō was taste­ed on him before, which now he [...]fts off. The Devil now seeth he should be cast into straits, if you [Page 23] should grant this; what is it that doth most trouble you? I un­dertook too much upon me foolishly: I had gotten a little Logick and Greek, and meanly instructed in the rules, did set my self to read to Scholars; and afterwards under­took other busines, which distracted my minde and body from them, I have destroyed a thousand souls. You may see the falsehood of him that suggesteth this unto you: you never had a thousand: he puts a false glasse before you. The good effects of your pains appears in many of your Scho­lars. Oh they were of themselves capable. Name one in whom they doe not? There is one. (point­ing at a Master of Arts there pre­sent) He justified his care of him, and gave thanks to God that ever he came to him. It is not so, I did foolishly. You con­fesse [Page 24] you did foolishly, therefore not of malice. Again, cōsider what would have become of many of them if you had not taken them. Better, farre better. All in the Col­ledge know the contrary. But I feel it. It is false, believe not the Devil. It is too true. When vvill you make amends? God will give you your hearts desire. Never. Are you sorry that he vvill not? No, there is no grace in my heart: it is dead. Such was Davids case. What doe you com­pare me with him? Behold Christ himself. Nothing to me. God can make his death available. He cannot. He is omnipotent. In me he cannnot, because it stands with his purpose. Whom God loveth once, he loveth to the end. But he did never love me. You have tasted of his love. I deceived my self in a certain vain-glory: [Page 25] I exposed my head to many things, outwardly all. You could say the Lords Prayer, and there­in call him Father. Hypocriti­cally I was wont to enquire of Ma­ster Mason, what was meant by Abba-father; rather in curiosity, then truly to be edified. God will give a good issue. Never, I have no sense. We will pray with you. Doe not dishonour God. It is well that you will not have God dishonoured: here he sticked, saying, I pray trouble me not with distinctions. After came one, who with ve­hement action of body, pres­sed and urged him to trust in God. I cannot (said he) I can­not, he will not have me saved, his sentence is passed. Doe you desire to be saved? No. Do you desire to desire? No. Would you be damned? [Page 26] No. Look at the sinnes of other men as great as yours, and yet they are saved. They were good and godly, they found grace: here is the difference, my sinnes are horrible: he repeated that towards his Scholars. All of us know you took pains. Outwardly you did your best. No. I see novv what it is, you strictly look back to your own actions, as a Justi­ciary, who will none of Gods mercy, and now he hath justly met with you, your judgement is just. These words affected him strangely: another willed him to look to it, it seemed neer Popery. Doe you hope to be justified by your merits? I fear to be damned for my sinnes. The other asked, whether he could say, Amen? No. Have you no tongue? What is that to the purpose? Name Jesus, I cannot. [Page 27] If I had your tongue in my hand, I would make you speak. Turn­ing his speech to a friend present, Oh (saith he) if you did but feel my greif but an houre, you would have compassion. The other reply­ed, If you were in the fire you would wish to get out. I had ra­ther be in the fire then here. I will pray for you. Sinne not. Let the fault be mine.

Although my purpose was barely to relate the passages of this gracious mans visitation, and to referre to your spirituall eye what you could tracke and finde therein, yet let your gentle con­struction withhold from me the deserved censure of bold blind­nes, in that now and then I point at some things which your quick sight may sooner or bet­ter apprehend. The Devils ma­licious policy was great toward [Page 28] him, in that he assaulted him most strongly in that, which might and ought to have been his greatest comfort. Again, I saw that the opinion of the Phy­sician helps somewhat in bodily maladies or diseases, whereas in that his estate, his soul remain­ed as it were uncapable of com­fort from the souls Physician. He much respected some few. He dolefully poured out his soul in the bosome of a well willer, on this manner; I took upon me too proudly many things, and being negligent, performed nothing: cur­sed be the day when I took Scholars. If I had not taken them, I had been happy; with a great flourish, I was stirring many wayes, and in the mean space left the essence of my calling, teaching Scholars. What, saith the other, what shall I now doe, when I see you thus tossed? [Page 29] Well, for I was an Hypocrite, and now therefore there is no hope of comfort for me in Gods presence: I have no sense of it. The sunne is in the firmament, though it may be hid in a cloud. This comparison agreeth not to me. What then would you counsell me to doe? Abide within the bounds of your calling: take not too much on you, and the Lord will blesse you. Will it avail me to hear sermons. Yes, if you mean to be saved. What good shall I reap thence? No­thing from the bare hearing. Oh, this heavy lumpish fear hath oft­times shaken me, and now it hath broken out. Another said, you know the poor in spirit are bles­sed. I am not such. You see you are empty of all good, you feel your burthen. I pray you goe your wayes. He turned his head aside, and stopped his eares: what [Page 30] though you have done but little good, if you have but given a cup of cold water, &c. He thrust­ed him away with his foot, ei­ther (as some thought) being troubled with his shrill voice, or (as he replyed) through the Devils subtilty. That evening he was grievously afflicted. Sud­denly he brake out; Oh if God! The standers by endeavoured to cherish this good motion, and said to him, He will give you grace. I doubt it. Then presently af­ter he uttered this prayer, Oh God, give me a spark of grace, and enlarge my heart that it may appre­hend it. He asked a friend, how he might give satisfaction for some speeches.

M ^r Dod, although he depart­ed on Saturday, and had then an unseasonable journey, yet being requested by letters, re­turned [Page 31] on Tuesday following. He at the first sight started up, as desirous to meet him, Oh M ^r Dod, and in friendly sort complained, I have no grace. I will not (saith M ^r Dod) beleive every one that saith he hath grace, nor every one that saith he hath none: An­swer the Devil as Christ did. A man must not alwaies be led by sense; Let us enquire by the ef­fects, and it may suffice, if we can finde but one, yea the least it is enough. You forgive your e­nemies, and love them, and would doe them no hurt if you could? Yes. Then your sinnes are forgiven. An Hypocrite may give alms and fast, but this he cannot. That is a small matter. I think it to be a great one, yea, such an one that I had need to pray for; That is put for a rea­son in the Lords Prayer, and if [Page 32] Christ had thought any more forcible, he would have given it. Sir, that is true, but in those that are elected. Doe not you put an exception, where God hath not. I would not handle you as I doe, but that I know your estate: I come hither to cherish you, you love your good friends? I cannot. Had you ra­ther that bad or good men should be with you? Good. Yet you say, you doe not love them: A sow will be with swine: There is no fellowship between light and darknes. Would you believe your self, or the Physician touch­ing the estate of your body? The Physician. Believe not your self then, now you are sick, yet shall be restored. It is impossible. Why so? If you had sinned so much as you could, you could not have sinned so much as Adam, [Page 33] yet he is in Heaven. It repented him. Doth it not you? No. Doth your sicknes or sinne more trou­ble you, or had you rather have grace, or health? Grace. Well then. But it cannot be. God will wash you. I have no water. God will bring it with him. He hath denyed it. He hath offered it by his Mi­nisters, which are as the buc­kets to draw and pour it. You must not look now that God should come to you him­self. Doe you think it a small favour of God that so many good friends come to you? God did send none to comfort Cain or Ahithophel. Think of that saying of Manoahs wife, If the Lord would kill us, he would not have shewed us all these things, Iudg. 13.23. Behold the proper­ties of Christs sheep: They are [Page 34] 1. Weak, 2. Sick, 3. Broken, 4. Driven away, 5. Lost, Ezek. 34.4. You are such, see there­fore your comfort, he will 1. strengthen, 2. heal, 3. binde up, 4. bring again, and 5. seek you. You finde your self a great deb­tor: the Lord hath pardoned: onely he looks that you should come to him for an acquittance. This fight is not yours, but the Lords, 2 Chron. 20.20. put your trust in him. If you ask me, how may I? it followeth, Beleive his Prophets, and you shall prosper. You may remember that Christ did pray for Peter, that his faith might not fail, but it failed af­terwards. How came that to passe? That failing did rather strengthen it. For whereas he glo­ried that if al should deny Christ, yet he would not: had he been asked, Doest thou promise this [Page 35] by thine own strength, or by mine? he must have answered, Mine, for otherwise he would have requested his help, making him hereby to seek to Christ for the strengthening of his faith. This happeneth to you, because you credit the suggestion of carnall reason, and not the word rather. Oh the cunning of the adversary! deal not with him by cunning, but hold him to the Word, seek for strength in God to resist him. You may see the Apostles in the tempest, it was from their weaknes that they distrusted, yet of God that they prayed. I cannot pray. Here what S ^t Iames saith, Is any man sick, &c. afflictions further pray­er, but most sicknesses hinder: wherefore behold your friends, whose mindes as the Lord hath stirred up to pray for you: so will [Page 36] he also stirre up himself to hear them. Their prayers are yours, yea, you have the prayers of ma­ny which never knew you. And as God said to Cain, sinne lyeth at the door, ready as it were to doe him an ill turne: so his pro­mised blessing doth as it were expect you. If your salvation were now in your own hands, it is likely you would yeild up all: but your name is written in the heart of Christ. Sir, let me watch with you this night. No. Why? because it would hurt you. He (fearing the conclusi­on) said, Here is a snatching ar­gument: nay rather, I will not suf­fer you, because you would trouble me. In the morning M. Dod came a­gain to him, and asking him how he did, he answered, wretch­edly, lamentably, abhominably, no stamp of grace in me. Doe you [Page 37] desire to be eased? Infinitely. Oh if God would give me a drop: I was so foolish that I would alwaies be doing some­thing, but did nothing well. I pray you tell me what was the calling of the good thief upon the crosse? Doe not you think that God can put a distinction between his grace and our corruptions? Be­hold the Church sometimes helples and hopeles, and Io­nah in that his bed, God seeth you, though you see not him. But I feel horrour. Where misery is, there is grace much more: Then e­specially appeareth the ex­cellency of the Physician, when health is least hoped. The Devil doth abuse your minde and tongue against your self: but doubt not, [Page 38] the Lord will cast down the strong holds of carnall reason. Onely doe not suppresse that grace of God, which al­though it appeareth but small, as big as a mans hand, yet it shall be increased into a mighty rain, by which your dry soul shall be moistened. Christ rising again, did first appear to Mary Magdalen that sinner, after commanded her to tell it first to Peter, which had denied him. See thence his mercy. The godly in their afflictions doe but forget their comforts; God helps their memory, helps all. The godly losing his sense of Gods favour, is like to a man that hath lost his purse, which if he could finde, he were rich enough. But the wicked cannot be brought to [Page 39] remembrance, because they ne­ver knew it. Thus he suf­fered him to rest a while, afterwards returning with o­thers, prayed. Then he was asked, how he did. Misera­bly. Doe not you search in­to the secrets of God. It is too true and manifest. Sir, doe not alwaies be digging in at your sinnes. A wound continually rubbed cannot be cured. Suffer the plaisters of the Word of God to rest upon it, that it may be holp­en. Oh, if I had! Oh, if it would please God! I had rather then any thing in this or other three thousand worlds. Who now giveth this desire unto you? Of our selves we can­not think a good thought: God giveth both the will and the deed. A desire is a sure [Page 40] token. But I cannot truly de­sire. You doe not desire false­ly, therefore: truly what doe you dissemble? Here is a trick. You must needs distinguish between unperfect desire and hypocriticall. Will you know whether your desire be true? There are two signes thereof: Constancy, and a conscionable using of the means: You have found these in you, doth this argument hold? You doe not feel, therefore you have it not? I know when you would have denyed such an argu­ment: If that did follow, it should fare well with the Reprobate, he hath no sense of the wrath of God, there­fore he is not under it. E­lizabeth said, Whence is it that the mother of the Lord should come unto me? surely from [Page 41] their Christian heart. Truly I could hardly have come to you, but that I thought I was bound in conscience, be­cause I know you to be the servant of the Lord: When you were well, if we should have come with proofs out of the Word of the Lord, you would have believed us. Yes. Why not now when your judgement is blinded? Oh, the Iudgement of God! Call it as he calleth it, Corrections. Oh, my insensible heart! Oh, dead! A dead man cannot perceive himself dead, and God quick­neth the dead. Oh, if he would enlarge my heart! This desire is good; But it is without sa­vour. God in mercy will yeild you a comfortable rel­lish: Consider I pray you; whereas man may object, The [Page 42] Lord is strong and terrible. It followeth, Mercifull with­all. But I am backward in seek­ing it. He is gracious, more forward then thou canst be backward: but I have pro­voked. Him; he is slow to an­ger: but my sinnes are great, but he is abundant in good­nes and in truth. The Lord hath promised that he on his part will be our God, and we on our part shall be his peo­ple. For a while he commend­ed him to God: shortly after re­turning, he prayed with him. Cast your burthen upon God. He hath rejected me. Who made you his counsellour? Secret things belong unto God, but revealed things unto us: will you make Almanackes? He doth manifest it: Oh mine abominable bringing up of youth! he withall [Page 43] groaned most deeply. If you had done as well as the justest man, you should stand in need of the merits of Christ. I, or another may bring arguments, but it belongs to the Lord to fasten them on the heart. I say to you as Noah did to Iaphet, God perswade Iaphet, &c. What if your sinnes were as crimson, God can make them as snow. That is true of those that are capa­ble. Behold, we make your e­state our own, we have part in your sorrow: who hath thus (think you) disposed our hearts? God. And doe you think that he which causeth us to love you, doth not love you himself? I fear I did too much glory in mat­ters of private service to God. The neerer we come to God, the more we see our own vilenesse. This is the use which I make of [Page 44] it, blessed be God which hath not put our estate in our own hands, but kept it in his. The Devil hath now winnowed you, and you think all is gone out, but God holdeth what is his. An Artificer can distinguish drosse from the metall, cannot God his from yours? Well, with Iob lay your hand on your mouth, and hold your peace, and so good rest have you: Onely consider your comfort, though it be but small, whence it came, even from Gods Word and servants, no o­therwise.

M. Dod.When he returned again to take and give farewell, he be­gan to complain: Oh, great and grievous! The Lord knoweth what power he hath given you: A father will put a greater bur­then upon a stronger sonne. But see the difference. When an [Page 45] earthly father or master setteth his on wo [...]k, they must doe it with their own strength; but the Lord setteth on work, and giveth strength to be not discou­raged. You are now in your cal­ling: Oh, mine heart is miserable! What then? A father loveth his sonne as well when he is sleep­ing, as when he is waking. Sir, I have known you heretofore, and although, if I were in your case, I might doe as you doe, yet I remain the servant of God, as you certainly are. The Ho­ly Ghost calls to your remem­brance what you have hereto­fore taught, and now heard: And although I shall be absent in body, yet shall I be present in minde. Be not too covetous to seek abundance by and by. If Iacob could say to Es [...]u, I have seen thy face, as though I had [Page 46] seen the face of God, much more should you think so of the chil­dren of God that come to you. I thank God (saith he) he hath be­gun to ease me. He will in his good time. God grant. Thus he took his last farewell. Al­though vve depart from our friends in the way, yet vve shall meet at the end. One told Ma­ster Dod that he had uttered such words. Now the Lord hath made me a spectacle. Whereupon he counselled one that attended on him, to be sparing in admitting commers in, or speakers, left his brain should be too much heat­ed. A friend of his comming to him, asked him, Dare your mur­mure and repine against God? Why should I so? God be bles­sed. It is a signe of grace. But I have no meanes. You have had them offered. But not given with [Page 47] effect. They shall, I doubt not. God grant: but I doe not feel it.

He received a letter from a friend very respective, M. Bolton. and much respected of them both: where­in were written these very words: ‘"I heard, I know not hovv true, that our dear Christian friend M ^r Peacock is in great danger: which hath much greived and afflicted my heart, and vvrung from me very bitter teares. If his extremities be such, his ten­tations are very like to be fore. Tell him from me (as one vvho did ever, with dearest inti­matenes knovv and converse with him) that I can assure him in the word of life and truth, frō a most just and holy God, whose Minister I am, That he is undoubtedly one of his Saints, designed for immorta­lity, and those endles joyes in [Page 48] another world."’ When it was read to him; at those words I can assure him, &c. (he said) Oh, take heed, take heed; doe you think he vvould or durst assure you, unles he knew on what grounds? I did deceive my self, now God hath revealed more. Ano­ther time one requested him, that he would make his friends par­takers of the least comfort that the Lord bestovved upon him, as they had been partakers of his grief. If I had it, I would wil­lingly communicate it. Search and take notice of the least. How should I have any, since God deny­eth the means? doe you think sense is a fruit of faith? Yes, at this season, although the hus­bandman hath sown much, yet he seeth nothing above ground. Applications doe not prove, hold your peace, my heart is broken. [Page 49] Then the promise is yours. I would gladly ask you one thing, Now you will ask twenty. Doe you seek for grace in your heart? I cannot. How then can you know whether it be there or no? It is dead. The Lord in whose hand the disposing thereof is, dispose it for your good and his glory. I thank you. What doe you think of that place, Whose sins you remit, they are remitted, &c. You know how farre they may goe. Howsoever, Sir, the bar­gain is not now to be made be­tween God and you. Shortly after came one whom he much esteemed. Oh I love (said he) your company, for the graces in you, and much more to the same pur­pose. Suddainly he brake out into this ejaculation, Oh God, re­concile me unto thee, that I may taste one dramme of thy grace, by [Page 50] which my miserable soul may receive comfort. One secretly willed that man to desire him to repeat it again. Doe not trouble me with repetitions. There being a ser­mon, he bade them about him goe thither. After he called one, and asked him whether the preacher (being acquainted with his course of preaching) did use his accustomed divisions. He told one, Satan had borne him in hand, and had deluded him: to whō the other answered, I hope that God will restore you as be­fore, to glorify him here. No. No. Yea, if you were weaker, I would hope notwithstanding. I desire nothing more. God be thanked, you have laboured care­fully for his glory. I would la­bour after another fashion. In the night he prayed and repeated his belief. And after resting a while, [Page 51] he called these that watched with him, Bear witnesse, I said not, I believe, but in generall, and as desiring that I might believe. One comming to visit him, ask­ed him, How is it with you? My minde was grievously puzzled with sundry distractions this night, but now I feel my burthen more light, I thank God. He was put in minde of that place, Isa. 54.8, 11, 12, &c. Oh thou afflicted and tos­sed with tempests, and not comfort­ed; behold, I will lay thy stones with faire colours, and thy foundations with Saphyrs; And I will make thy windowes of Agates, and thy gates of Carbuncles: and all thy borders of pleasant stones, &c. For a lit­tle while I hid my self from thee, but with everlasting kindnes will I have mercy on thee. He lifted up his eyes: thereupon being ask­ed what the Lord did say to his [Page 52] soul, that had long refused comfort? Take heed, be not too bold, look to the foundation. And then prayed. Lord grant me the comfort of thy deliverance, and forgive me my foolishnes, that I may praise thy name. Then he complained of his idle speeches. Upon the Sabbath day one came to him, willing him to put his hand to a note of certain debts. This is not a day for that. We will goe to Sermon. God speed you. Now you cannot goe to Church to serve the Lord, I pray him to come to you. Amen. He hardly suffered any to stay with him. At evening one did read something to him in Master Downams warfare, and asked him, doe you think it to be true? Yes. Therefore you must not trust your sense: What not such as mine are? But I will not now [Page 53] dispute. When they were help­ing him up and putting on his cloathes; upon some occasion one said to him to this effect: A childe will not much grieve at the laying aside of an old coat, when he hath a new made, Whē you shall put on that, there shall be no longer nakednes, the resur­rection will amend all. To those that die in the Lord. No doubt you will dye in him, having lived in him. I have answered you before. But I would not believe you in that case. The next day a friend of his being to goe forth of town, asked him, whether he would have any thing with him, for he was to leave him, and knew not whether ever he should see him again here. Look to your calling, that it be as well inward as outward. He counselled another; To be stirring for the glory of God. [Page 54] To one standing by, he said. I am thinking. What? On a form to get grace. Put your trust in God. So I doe. I omit how, and tell you that with great patience, he continually submitted him­self to advise in any means for his good: In putting his tem­porall estate in order; he dealt mercifully with his poorest deb­tors, yea, with some which might well pay it. His worthy patron (for so he often called him) whom for honours sake I name, Sir Robert Harley, sent his man to him with some aurum potabile, together with a book which a Doctour had made in the praise thereof. Comming to him, and asking him how he did, Oh (said he) if it would please God that I might live with him. Anon after he said to one, I have been think­ing of arguments by which I might [Page 55] pleade my cause with God, and I have found: But what if dying thus, I should be judged an Apostata? Man is not the Judge at whose Tribunall you must stand or fall. There came in many of our cheif Fellowes. One of them request­ed him to make confession of his faith willingly. But I would think of it first. Musing awhile, he called them. Truly my heart and soul have been farre lead, and deeply troubled with tentations and stings of conscience: but I thank God they are eased in good measure: Wherefore I desire that I be not branded with the note of a for­lorne or Reprobate: Such questi­ons, oppositions, and all tending thereto, I renounce: Now help me, and put me in minde. What doe you think of your former doctrine? Most true: In it I have lived, and will dye; I have not [Page 56] dealt hypocritically in it. Are you willing to die? Truly I will tell you: my Patron who of late sent me potable gold, hath taken order that I might live with him contentedly in the Ministery: but I submit my self to the will of God. Doe you desire the glory of God, and the salvation of your brethren? Most: Help my memory, what mo [...]e? Doe you forgive all wrongs? Yes, and desire that mine may be: And now I thank you. Sir, I re­member a thing wantonly done towards you, pointing at one present. You sent me a knife for a new-years-gift; and I ty­ed two verses to it, and sent it back: I pray pardon me if any thing—For mine uncon­siderate speeches in the time of my tentations, I heartily and humbly ask forgivenes. You did then (saith one) seem to rely [Page 57] somewhat upon inherent righte­ousnes, as if you sought in your self whereby you should be sa­ved: Indeed we knew your con­versation to be unreproveable: No I dare not affirm it: I trust in nothing but in the name of Iesus. Have you any cer­tainty in him? I would not be pressed to a particular assu­rance in this grievous agony. We desire you to inform them that shall come unto you of your estate. My unability is great: They then praied, 1. Giving God thanks, that whereas before they had craved his mercy for his ser­vant, he had heard them, and manifested to his glory, how he never forsaketh his: And besought him, because he knew the malice of the enemy, to per­fect his good work, and not suf­fer him to be tempted above his [Page 58] strength. Now, Sir, we tell you one thing to your comfort, We never heard you speak any thing against God or man, thorow­out the time of your visitation, but wholly against your self. I have been bold thus to argue with God, If he hath shewed mercy to such and such, why should not I likewise have hope? He com­plained once, how, while he was visiting the sick, (In which work many poor souls found the ready mercifulnes of his heart, and now feel a great want) he lighted upon doubts; which that he might more ful­ly satisfy, when the like might be moved, he studyed too ear­nestly. One brought him a note book which he had lent. (Alwayes willing to communi­cate what he had most private) Here is a book (said he) of great [Page 59] pains, &c. To a stranger, a wor­thy gentleman that came to visit him, he said, The Lord is mercifull to me, and I have cause of rejoycing, &c. Afterwards a reverend Governour came to him, Dr Ayery. to whom he complained of his sinne and misery. You look not (said he) for any thing in your self. No, for no­thing. You would amend if you had space. Oh if I had— Certainly—Think on this. As the Lord hath heard the eja­culations and grones of your spirit in your infirmity, so he will now. If he will be glo­rified by your life, you shall live; Submit your self to him, let him choose for you. My faith is weak. All, you know, are here but in part, you de­sire notwithstanding to runne to that which is perfect: So [Page 60] you may see how low many have been brought, some (said he) have been Idolatours, was not Manasses such an one? Yes. And behold Gods servants from the beginning of the Bible to the end, they have slipped. Lot had shrewd slips, but yet here the testimony of the Apostle of him; he was just and righteous. You have been wearied and heavy loaden. Yes. For such is the end of Christs comming: your desire is a token of favour: For by how much the neerer we come, the more we thirst. Think now on his loving kindnes; he hath begun, and he will finish whom you have served. I did endeavour, but vile imperfections, &c. It is our greatest perfecti­on here to see our imperfections. Shortly after came to him many young Gentlemen, to whom he [Page 61] said, Live in Gods fear, that you may die in his favour: Otherwise the Oxe and the Asse will condemn you; I spent my time foolishly and prodigally. You have (said one) remembred that sufficient­ly; Remember also Christ. That is true, Christ is to be re­membred, and our sinnes to be re­membred also.

The night following, which was Wednesday night, the Sun of Righteousnes spread gracious beams at his setting, which were comfortable tokens of a glorious rising. His last swan­like song, as he uttered it, was pen'd by some as he uttered it. One comforting him by his bead-side some two houres or more before his death, he brake out into these speeches; Quid de salute mea sentiam expectatis ut explicarem: usque adeo indul­get [Page 62] Deus ijs quos semel dilexerit, ut eos nunquam deserat, at (que) ideo me in coelos transiturum pro certo habeo: Felicissima sunt ea vincu­la in quae me conjecit Deus benig­nissimus; You all expect that I should declare what I thinke of my own salvation: God is so indulgent to those whom he hath ever loved, that he never forsakes them, and there­fore I am assured I shall goe to Heaven: Most happy are those fetters into which I was cast by a most mercifull God. One telling him, You have fought a good fight, &c. he said, Ex­petit, expedit ut contendam ad coe­lum; Tollite, Tollite, Eripite, Eripite, ut coelum adeam: Deus indulget ingenuitati bono­rum. It is requisite, it is requi­site that I should contend for Heaven: Take me up, take me [Page 63] up, carry me hence, carry me hence, that I may go to Hea­ven; God doth cherish the in­genuity of the good. Being put in minde of Gods mercy towards him, he made answer: Oh, the sea is not so full of water, nor the Sunne of light, as God is of goodnes, his mercy is ten thou­sand times more. Being likewise remembred of Gods goodnes towards him, in filling his heart with such comforts, after so great tentations, he said: I doe (God be praised) feel such comfort from that: What shall I call it? Agony, saith one, Nay, that is too little: That had I five hundred worlds, I could not not make sa­tisfaction for such an issue. Being moved to lift up his heart in to­ken of thankfulnesse unto his God, he uttered these words: What, shall I extoll the magnificence [Page 64] of God, which is unspeakeable, and more then any heart can conceive? Nay rather let us with humble re­verence acknowledge his great mercy: What great cause have I to magnify the great goodnes of God, that hath humbled, nay ra­ther exalted such a wretched mis­creant of so base condition to an e­state so glorious and stately! The Lord hath honour'd me with his goodnes: I am sure he hath provi­ded a glorious Kingdom for me. The joy that I feel in my heart is un­credible. He made likewise pro­testation of that which he al­wayes before taught against ju­stification by inherent righte­ousnes, and appealing to the knowledge of some there pre­sent, what he continually main­tained, in that (saith he) I still remain a Protestant. After three chapters read to him, [Page 65] Revel. 19. Revel. 21. Rom. 8. Oh, (saith he) They be glorious comforts: Will you have any more read? Yea, a Psalm, if you please, and named the 23. One beginning to read it, he desired that it might be sung: One ask­ing him, Will you sing? Yea, said he, as well as I can. The Psalm being sung, afterwards the 17. of Iohn was read unto him: One comforting him by applying to him that in particu­lar, which Christ in generall performed for the good of the faithfull, he said, Blessed be God, very often, I am a thousand times happy to have such felicity thrown upon me, a poor wretched miscre­ant. After a little rest, Lord Ie­sus (said he) unto thy hands: Lord receive my soul, Lord lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon me, and be mercifull unto me. [Page 66] Then very weak he repeated the Lords prayer twice, and his Belief once very plainly, and distinctly with a strong voice, to the great admirati­on of the hearers: so he slept in the Lord.

December 4. Anno 1611.