The following extract will show the holy use to which the pious author consecrated his knowledge of "physiology," which, when a Regent he was bound to teach, by the foundation charter of the University—"We can do nothing except we have some pattern or copy before us, but now, upon this ground which God hath laid man may fancy many superstructures. But when he stretched out the heaven, and laid the foundation of the earth, 'who, being his counsellor taught him?' At whom did his Spirit take counsel? Certainly, none of all these things would have entered into the heart of man to consider or contrive, Isa. xl. 12, 13. Some ruder spirits do gaze upon the huge and prodigious pieces of the creation, as whales and elephants, &c., but a wise Solomon will go to the school of the ant to learn the wisdom of God, and choose out such a simple and mean creature for the object of his admiration. Certainly there are wonders in the smallest and most inconsiderable creatures which faith can contemplate. O the curious ingenuity and draught of the finger of God, in the composition of flies, bees, flowers, &c. Men ordinarily admire more some extraordinary things, but the truth is, the whole course of nature is one continued wonder, and that greater than any of the Lord's works without the line. The straight and regular line of the wisdom of God, who, in one constant course and tenor, hath ordained the actions of all his creatures, comprehends more wonders and mysteries, as the course of the sun, the motion of the sea, the hanging of the earth in the empty place upon nothing. These, we say, are the wonders indeed, and comprehend something in them which all the wonders of Egypt and the wilderness cannot parallel. But it is the stupid security of men, that are only awakened by some new and unusual passages of God's works beyond that straight line of nature."(75)

From an eloquent passage in his sermon on the text (1 John i. 5,) "God is light," it will likewise be seen that if Binning spoke, like a philosopher, of the properties of light, his was the language of a Christian philosopher—"The light is, as it were, a visible appearance of the invisible God. He hath covered his invisible nature with this glorious garment, to make himself in a manner visible to man. It is true, that light is but, as it were, a shadow of that inaccessible light, umbra Dei. It is the dark shadow of God, who is himself infinitely more beautiful and glorious. But yet, as to us, it hath greater glory and majesty in it, than any creature besides. It is the chief of the works of God, without which the world would be without form and void. It is the very beauty of the creation, that which gives lustre and amiableness to all that is in it, without which the pleasantest paradise would become a wilderness, and this beautiful structure, and adorned palace of the world, a loathsome dungeon. Besides the admirable beauty of it, it hath a wonderful swift conveyance throughout the whole world, the upper and lower, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye. It is carried from the one end of heaven to the other in a moment, and who can say by what way the light is parted? Job xxxviii. 24. Moreover, it carries alongst with it a beautiful influence, and a refreshing heat and warmness, which is the very life and subsistence of all the creatures below. And so, as there is nothing so beautiful, so nothing so universally and highly profitable. And to all this, add that singular property of it, that it is not capable of infection, it is of such absolute purity, that it can communicate itself to the dunghill, as well as to the garden, without receiving any mixture from it. In all the impurities it meets withal, it remains unmixed and untainted, and preserves its own nature entire. Now you may perceive, that there is nothing visible that is fitter to resemble the invisible God, than this glorious, beautiful, pure, and universally communicable creature, light.…

"Then add unto this, to make up the resemblance fuller, the bounty and benignity of his influence upon the world, the flowings forth of his infinite goodness, that enrich the whole earth. Look, as the sun is the greatest and most universal benefactor,—his influence and heat is the very renovation of the world. It makes all new, and green, and flourishing; it puts a youth upon the world, and so is the very spring and fountain of life to all sublunary things. How much is that true of the true light, of the substantial, of whom this sun is but a shadow!…

"And to complete the resemblance more, there may be something of the infallibility and incomprehensibility of the divine majesty here represented. For though nothing be clearer than the light, yet there is nothing in its own nature darker than light, that which is so manifest to the eyes, how obscure is it to the understanding. Many debates and inquiries have been about it, but yet it is not known what that is by which we know all things. Certainly such is the divine light. It is inconceivable and inexpressible, therefore is he said to dwell in light inaccessible and full of glory, 1 Tim. vi. 16. There is a twofold darkness that hinders us to see God, a darkness of ignorance in us, and a darkness of inaccessible light in him. The one is a vail upon our hearts, which blinds and darkens the souls of men, that they do not see that which is manifest of God even in his works. O that cloud of unbelief that is spread over our souls, which hinders the glorious rays of that divine light to shine into them. This darkness Satan contributes much to, who is the prince of darkness, 2 Cor. iv. 4. This makes the most part of souls like dungeons within, when the glorious light of the gospel surrounds them without. This earthliness and carnality of our hearts makes them like the earth, receive only the light in the upper and outward superfice, and not suffer it to be transmitted into our hearts to change them. But when it pleaseth him, who at the first, by a word of power, commanded light to shine out of darkness, he can scatter that cloud of ignorance, and draw away the vail of unbelief, and can by his power and art, so transform the soul, as to remove its earthly quality, and make it transparent and pure, and then the light will shine into the heart, and get free access into the soul. But though this darkness were wholly removed, there is another darkness, that ariseth not from the want of light, but from the excessive superabundance of light,—caligo lucis nimiae, that is, a divine darkness, a darkness of glory, such an infinite excess and superplus of light and glory above all created capacities, that it dazzles and confounds all mortal or created understandings. We see some shadows of this, if we look up to the clear sun. We are able to see nothing for too much light. There is such an infinite disproportion here between the eye of our mind, and this divine light of glory, that if we curiously pry into it, it is rather confounding and astonishing, and therefore it fills the souls of saints with continual silent admiration and adoration."(76)

The comparisons, employed by Binning, have sometimes a degree of quaintness in them which is far from being displeasing, if it does not heighten their effect, as when he observes of that Great Being, whose thoughts are not as our thoughts, that he "speaks in our terms, and like nurses with their children, uses our own dialect."(77) He employs an equally vivid, though somewhat quaint comparison, when he observes, that "the best way to behold the sun, is to look at it in a pail of water, and the surest way to know God by, is to take him up in a state of humiliation and condescension, as the sun in the rainbow, in his words and works, which are mirrors of the divine power and goodness, and do reflect upon the hearts and eyes of all men the beams of that uncreated light."(78) We are offended, however, with the homeliness of such expressions as these, "sin's ugly face,"(79) "our legs are cut off by sin,"(80) "the legs of the soul,"(81) men opposing God are "like dogs barking at the moon,"(82) "the pull of the Father's arm,"(83) the Christian is "on speaking terms with God,"(84) "he drives a trade with heaven,"(85) Christ "took up a shop, as it were, in our flesh, that he might work in us."(86) Nevertheless, an obvious excuse suggests itself to us for the employment, by the author, of these, and such like familiar expressions, which are besides of singularly rare occurrence in his writings. The great object which a Christian minister, like Binning, will constantly propose to himself, when addressing his people, will be, to make himself useful to them. But he knows he cannot be useful, without being intelligible to his audience. He is thus led sometimes to lower his style, as well as to simplify his ideas, that he may reach the understandings and hearts of the youngest and the most illiterate among his hearers. This was evidently Binning's case. To the least intelligent of those whom he addressed, he sometimes spoke in their own dialect, or, to adopt his own comparison, "like nurses with their children." In so far as he did this, he followed the maxim of the great German Reformer. Hi sunt optimi ad populum concionatores, said Luther, qui pueriliter, populariter, et quam simplicis sime docent. "They are the best preachers to the people, who teach them in a plain, familiar, and perfectly simple way."

A preacher, however, who is desirous to make his instructions exceedingly simple, is in danger of bringing his language too low, or of expressing himself in a manner which may not please persons of refined taste. His own good sense will teach him to avoid this if possible. But in the hurry of writing or speaking, he may not always succeed. When this happens, the fault into which he has been betrayed ought to be overlooked by those who are aware, that the business of a minister of Christ is not to interest merely, but to convince, not to afford pleasure, but to enlighten, reclaim, and admonish, "rightly dividing the word of truth."

It is right that the reader should know what changes have in the present edition been made upon the text of the author. To make the work as perfect as possible, it has been carefully collated with the earliest editions which could be procured of his different writings. From his style being so much in advance of that of his countrymen in general, at the time he lived, it may be supposed that his language has been modernised to a considerable extent. But such is not the fact. The orthography has been altered. Greater attention than formerly has been paid to the punctuation. This was so defective in many places, as completely to obscure and pervert the meaning of the author. The references to scripture have also been corrected in numerous instances. But beyond this, nothing almost whatever has been done, with the exception of the occasional emendation of what, according to existing rules, would now be considered an ungrammatical expression, or the substitution of a modern word for one that was obsolete or provincial. The text itself, however, will show that very few changes indeed of this description have been ventured upon. It was thought better, for various reasons, that the author should be allowed to speak in his own familiar tongue, than that he should be transformed into a modern preacher. The remodelling of his style might have made it more agreeable to some readers, but it would no longer have been the style of Binning, nor characteristic of his age and country. His language, moreover, would have lost much of its raciness in the attempt to mellow it.

An explanation of such words as have been employed by Binning, and are not now in common use, or generally understood beyond the limits of Scotland, has been given in the Notes. Many of his Latin quotations, when not translated by himself, have likewise been explained, and verified, and their authors pointed out. This, it is confessed, has been a very irksome and laborious undertaking. As the classical quotations of the author, like his quotations from scripture, have not unfrequently been made from memory, the difficulty of tracing them to their proper sources was thereby much increased. The necessary books were not always at hand to consult, and even when these were obtained, it was sometimes found to be impossible, after the most patient research, to discover the place where the saying of some ancient writer was concealed. There are few notes comparatively attached to the first part of the work, as the printing of it commenced sooner than was expected. To supply this defect, some Notanda have been inserted after the Life of the Author.

But in addition to some of the classical quotations of the author, various historical allusions required to be elucidated, along with certain obscure references to passing events, and the opinions and proceedings of different sects and parties. It is not pretended that every thing of this kind has had light thrown upon it. But I can say this much with confidence, that it has been my constant endeavour to discover the latent or partially disclosed meaning of the author, and to give to the candid reader the benefit of my researches, and of any knowledge, which, in consequence of my position, I possessed, of a minister of the Church of Scotland, of whom I deem it no small honour to have been a successor.

* * * * *

When this edition of the works of the Rev. Hugh Binning had nearly passed through the press, the Editor had unexpectedly put into his hands a manuscript volume of the sermons of the author. About fifty of these, he finds, on examination, have never been printed, most of which have been transcribed by the Rev. Robert Macward, whose handwriting is perfectly well known. The remaining part of the volume contains the forty sermons on the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, entitled "The Sinner's Sanctuary." These are believed to be in the handwriting of Binning himself. There can be no doubt whatever that this is the manuscript volume in folio, which is described in the preface to "Several Sermons upon the most important Subjects of Practical Religion," dated "Brousterland, Sept. 12th, 1760." It is there said to have been for "many years concealed in the library of John Graham, a pious and learned man, much abstracted from the world, who was a near relation of Mr. M'Ward's, with a large collection of Mr. M'Ward's own papers, which are yet among the curious and large collection of manuscripts, that were left by Mr. Wodrow, the author of the History of the Sufferings of this Church, to his sons" (Pp. xix, xx.). The writer of that preface also tells us, that he had in his possession a "quarto volume" of manuscript sermons, belonging to Binning. The Editor has not been able to ascertain what has become of this latter volume; nor can any thing be learned of the "Course of Philosophy," which the author of Binning's Life, states, he was assured was in the hands of a gentleman in Edinburgh, at the time he wrote that Life, which was about the year 1735. (See Life of the Author, p. liv.) The sermons which have not hitherto been printed, and which are contained in the manuscript volume now brought to light, may be expected to be given to the world at no distant period.



THE LIFE OF MR. HUGH BINNING.

There being a great demand for the several books that are printed under Mr. Binning's name, it was judged proper to undertake a new and correct impression of them in one volume. This being done, the publishers were much concerned to have the life of such an useful and eminent minister of Christ written, in justice to his memory, and his great services in the work of the gospel, that it might go along with this impression. We living now at so great distance from the time wherein he made a figure in the world, must be at a considerable loss in giving an exact and particular relation. However, his pious and exemplary life may in some measure be known from his writings; and for this end, a great many bright passages might be gathered out of them, which would raise his character highly in the eyes of all good men; for the Rev. Mr. Robert M'Ward, minister in Glasgow, observed, "That his life was his sermons put in print, by which means they who did forget what he had said in the pulpit, by seeing what he did in his conversation might remember what they had forgot; he lived as he spoke, and spoke as he lived." All due pains have been taken to procure proper materials, and good vouchers of the following narration. Some few things are learned from the prefaces prefixed to his several pieces, by worthy and able divines, who revised and published them; more accounts of him were furnished by persons of great credit, on whose veracity we can safely rely. But the most remarkable passages in his life are happily preserved, in a letter written by Mr. M'Ward,(87) to the Rev. Mr. James Coleman,(88) sometime minister at Sluys in Flanders. The writer of his life must in the entry confess that his part is so small, that he can scarce assume any thing to himself, but the procuring the materials from others, the copying out of those things that were of any moment, and disposing them in the best and most natural order he could think of; having studied the strictness of a severe historian, without helping out things with his invention or setting them off by a rhetorical style of language. Nay, all that is contained in Mr. M. Ward's large letter concerning him, is told almost in his very words with a little variation of the order wherein he had placed the same, omitting the many long digressions on several subjects which that worthy person judged fit to insist upon, taking occasion from what he had noticed concerning Mr. Binning to enlarge on the same.

John Binning of Dalvennan was married to Margaret M'Kell, a daughter of Mr. Matthew M'Kell,(89) minister at Bothwell, and sister to Mr. Hugh M'Kell.(90) one of the ministers of Edinburgh; he had by her Mr. Hugh and Alexander. The father was possessed of no inconsiderable estate in the shire of Ayr, for Mr. Hugh having died before his father, John, the only son of Mr. Hugh, was served heir to his grandfather in the lands of Dalvennan. Alexander, the second son, who died about ten years ago, got the lands of Machrimore, and was married to a daughter of Alexander Crawford of Kerse, and is succeeded therein by his son John Binning, at present a writer in Edinburgh.

The worldly circumstances of the grandfather being so good, he was thereby enabled to give his son Hugh a liberal education, the good and desirable effects of which appeared very early upon him; the greatness of his spirit and capacity gave his parents good ground to conceive the pleasant hope of his being a promising child. When he was at the grammar school, he made so great proficiency in the knowledge of the Latin tongue, and Roman authors, that he outstripped his condisciples, even such as were some years older than himself. When his fellow schoolboys went to their play and diversion, he declined their society, and choosed to employ himself, either in secret duty with God, or conference with religious people. His pastime was to recreate himself in this manner. He had an aversion to sports, games, and other diversions, not from any moroseness, or melancholy of temper, being rather of an affable, cheerful and debonair disposition, but thinking that time was too precious to be lavished away in these things. Religion and religious exercises were his choice, and the time he had to spare from his studies he spent that way. He began to have sweet familiarity with God, and to live in near communion with him, before others began seriously to lay to heart their lost and undone condition by nature, and that additional misery they expose themselves to, by walking in a wicked way and sinful course. When he arrived at the thirteenth or fourteenth year of his age, he had even then attained so much experience in the ways of God, that the most judicious and exercised Christians in the place confessed they were much edified, strengthened, and comforted by him, nay, that he provoked them to diligence in the duties of religion, being abundantly sensible that they were much outrun by a youth.

Before he was fourteen years old, he entered upon the study of philosophy in the university of Glasgow, wherein he made very considerable progress, and with as much facility outstripped his fellow students, as he had done his condisciples in the Latin school, by which means, he came to be taken notice of in the college by the professors and students. And at the same time that he made proficiency in the liberal sciences, he advanced remarkably in religion. The abstruse depths of philosophy, which are the torture of slow engines and weak capacities, he dived into without any trouble or pain. And notwithstanding his surprising attainments and improvements, his great acumen and ready apprehension of things, whereby he was able to do more in one hour, than others in some days by hard study and close application, and though on these accounts he was much respected by the eminent ministers of the city, and learned professors of the university, yet was he ever humble, never exalted above measure, nor swelled with the tympany of pride and self conceit, the common foible and disease of young men of any greatness of spirit.

So soon as he had finished his course of philosophy, he was made Master of Arts(91) with great applause, and having furnished his mind with an uncommon measure of the ancillary knowledge of letters, he began the study of divinity, with a view to serve God in the holy ministry. At which time there happened to be a vacancy in the college of Glasgow, by the resignation of Mr. James Dalrymple of Stair, who had been Mr. Binning's Master. This gentleman was so great and so good a man, that it is impossible to avoid giving an account of some of the remarkable things of his life. The first employment he had, was in the army, being a captain in William Earl of Glencairn's regiment of foot; but as he had made his studies with great application, at the earnest request of the professors of the university of Glasgow, he stood as candidate for a chair of philosophy, in a comparative trial, (in buff and scarlet, the military dress of those days,) to which he was with great applause preferred. In this station he was greatly esteemed for his uncommon abilities in philosophy, and other parts of learning. But being resolved to follow the study of the law, he soon resigned his office of professor, and entered Advocate upon the 7th of February, 1648; and quickly distinguished himself by his pleadings before the Court of Session, avoiding always to take any employment, either as advocate, or judge, in criminal matters, though often respectively pressed to accept of both; which proceeded from a delicacy in his opinion, lest, to wit, he might possibly be the instrument either of making the innocent suffer, or to acquit the guilty. In this situation he continued, till the Tender was imposed, when he, with many other eminent lawyers, withdrew from the bar. On June 26th, 1657, he was, by a commission signed by General Monk,(92) in name of the Protector's council of Scotland, appointed to be one of the Judges, which was soon confirmed by a nomination directly from the Protector himself, in the month of July thereafter, which he had no inclination to accept of, being himself no favourer of the usurpation. For as he had been secretary to the commission which had been sent to the king to Breda, he had waited upon his majesty upon his landing in the North. However, being importunately pressed to accept by many eminent men, and amongst them by several ministers, who all distinguished between his serving as one of the Council under the Protector, and exercising the office of a Judge, by administrating justice to his fellow subjects, he did accept, and his act of admission only bears his giving his oath, de fideli administratione. After the Restoration, he was made by the king one of the ordinary Lords of Session, by his majesty's nomination, dated at Whitehall, February 13th, 1661-2. And in the year 1671, he was created President of that Court, in the room of Sir John Gilmour of Craigmiller. In the parliament 1681, he made a great appearance for securing the Protestant religion, and by reason of the difficulties of the times, he desired leave of his majesty to retire from business, and live quietly in the country. But in this he was prevented by a commission, dated the 14th of October, 1681, which having passed the great seal, was produced the 1st of November thereafter, by which commission he was superseded as President of the Session, and in the year 1682, was obliged for his safety to retire to Holland. For though he had the king's promise that he should live undisturbed, yet he was let know that he could not be in safety, and after his retreat to Holland, several unjust but fruitless attempts were made to have him tried for treason, both before the parliament and justiciary, for no other reason than that he had always with sincerity and firmness, given his opinion to the king and his ministers, against the measures that were then followed, and which in the following reign, at length brought about the glorious Revolution, at which time, anno 1668, he attended King William in that expedition, by the success of which we were most happily delivered from tyranny and slavery. On November 1st, 1689, Sir James Dalrymple of Stair, his letter as President of the Session was produced and recorded, and he was accordingly admitted and restored to his office. In the year 1690 he was created a Viscount upon account of his great services and merit. He published, while in Holland, his Institutions of the law of Scotland, (a more full edition of which came out in 1693,) and two volumes in folio, of Decisions, from the year 1661, to 1681 inclusive. He also published a system of physics,(93) valued greatly at the time. And a book entitled, A Vindication of the divine attributes, was also his, in which there is discovered great force of argument and knowledge. He was looked upon before his death, as the living oracle of our law, and at present his Institutions are appealed to, as containing the true and solid principles of it.(94)

Mr. Binning, who had lately been his scholar, was determined after much entreaty, (of which we shall presently give an account,) to stand as a candidate for that post. The Masters of the college, according to the usual laudable custom, emitted a programme, and sent it to all the universities in the kingdom, inviting such as had a mind to dispute for a profession of philosophy, to sist themselves before them, and offer themselves to compete for that preferment, giving assurance that without partiality and respect of persons, the place should be conferred upon him who should be found dignior et doctior.

The Ministers of the city of Glasgow considering how much it was the interest of the Church, that well qualified persons be put into the profession of philosophy, and that Universities by this means become most useful seminaries for the Church; and that such as had served as Regents in the college, were ordinarily brought out to the ministry, who, as the Divinity chairs became vacant, were advanced to that honour,—many instances of which I am able to condescend upon, and they knowing that Mr. Binning was eminently pious, and one of a solid judgment, as well as of a bright genius, set upon him to sist himself among the other competitors, but had great difficulty to overcome his modesty. However, they at last prevailed with him to declare, before the Masters, his willingness to undertake the dispute with others.

There were two candidates more, one of them had the advantage of great interest with Doctor Strang, principal of the college at that time, and the other a scholar of great abilities, and of the same sentiments with the Doctor, in some problematical points of divinity, which with great subtilty had been debated in the schools. Mr. Binning so managed the dispute and acquitted himself in all the parts of trial, that to the conviction of the judges he very much darkened his rivals. And as to the precise point of qualification, in respect of literature, cut off all shadow of a demur and pretence of difficulty in the decision. However, the Doctor and some of the Faculty who joined him, though they could not pretend that the candidate they appeared for, had an equality, much less a superiority in the dispute, yet they argued, a coeteris paribus, that the person they inclined to prefer, being a citizen & son, having a good competency of learning, and being a person of more years, had greater experience than Mr. Binning could be supposed to have, and consequently was more fit to be a teacher of youth. Mr. Binning being but yesterday a fellow student with those he was to teach, it was not to be expected, that the students would behave to him with that respect and regard which should be paid to a master. But to this it was replied, that Mr. Binning was such a pregnant scholar, so wise and sedate as to be above all the follies and vanities of youth, that he knew very well how to let no man despise his youth, his wit was neither vain nor light, and his fancy was obedient to his reason, and what was wanting in years was sufficiently made up by his singular endowments, and more than ordinary qualifications. A Member of the Faculty, perceiving the struggle among them to be great (and indeed the affair seemed to have been argued very plausibly on both sides), proposed a dispute between the two candidates extempore, upon any subject they should be pleased to prescribe. This being considered by the Faculty, did quickly put a period to the division among them, and those who had opposed him not being willing to engage their friend again in the lists, with such an able antagonist, yielded the question, and Mr. Binning was elected.(95)

Mr. Binning was not full nineteen years of age, when he commenced Regent and Professor of Philosophy,(96) and though he had not time to prepare a system of any part of his profession, being instantly after his election to take up his class, yet such was the quickness and fertility of his invention, the tenaciousness of his memory, and the solidity of his judgment, that his dictates(97) to the scholars had a great depth of learning of that kind, and perspicuity of expression. And I am assured, that he was among the first in Scotland that began to reform Philosophy from the barbarous terms, and unintelligible distinctions of the schoolmen, and the many vain disputes and trifling subtilties, which rather perplexed the minds of the youth, than furnished them with solid and useful knowledge.(98)

He continued in this profession for the space of three years, and discharged his trust so well, that he gained the general applause of the university for his academical exercises. And this was the more wonderful, that having turned his thoughts towards the ministry, he carried on his theological studies at the same time, and made vast improvements therein, to which he was enabled, by his deep penetration, and a memory so retentive, that he scarcely forgot any thing he had read or heard. It was easy and ordinary for him to transcribe any sermon, after he returned to his chamber, at such a full length, as that the intelligent and judicious reader who heard it preached should not find one sentence to be wanting.

During this period of his life, he gave a proof and evidence of the great progress he had made in the knowledge of Divinity, by a composure on that choice passage of the Holy Scripture, 2 Cor. v. 14, "For the love of God constraineth us, because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead."

This performance he sent to a certain gentlewoman for her private edification, who had been detained at Edinburgh for a long time with business of importance, and having perused the same, she judged it was a sermon of some eminent minister in the West of Scotland, and put it into the hands of the then Provost of Edinburgh for his opinion, who was so well satisfied with it, that supposing it to be taken from the mouth of one whom the city had formerly resolved to call, was restless till a call was brought about to him, to be one of the ministers of the city. But when the lady returned back to Glasgow, she found her mistake, by Mr. Binning's asking the discourse from her. This was the first discovery he had given of his great dexterity and ability in explaining of Scripture. At the expiration of his third year as a professor of philosophy, the parish of Govan, which lies adjacent to the city of Glasgow, and is within the bounds of that presbytery, happened to be vacant. Before this time,(99) whoever was principal of the college of Glasgow, was also minister of Govan. For Mr. Robert Boyd of Trochrigg,(100) (a person of very great learning, as his commentary on the Epistle to the Ephesians, and his Hecatombe Christiana testify) after he had been minister at Vertuille in France, and professor of Divinity in Saumur, returned to Scotland, and was settled principal of the college, and minister of Govan. But this being attended with inconveniences, an alteration was made, and the presbytery having a view of supplying that vacancy with Mr. Binning, did take him upon trials, in order to his being licensed as a preacher(101) and after he was licensed, he did preach at Govan, to the great satisfaction of that people. Mr. Binning was sometime after called and invited to be minister of the said parish, which call the presbytery heartily approved of, and entered him upon trials for ordination, about the 22d year of his age, and as a part of trials, they prescribed to him a common head, De concursu et influxu divino cum actionibus creaturarum,—the occasion of which was, that Dr. Strang, principal of the College, and a member of the presbytery, had vented some peculiar notions upon that profound subject. And having delivered a very elaborate discourse, viva voce, to the admiration of all who heard it, he gave in, according to custom, his thesis to be impugned by the members of the presbytery, which was the direct antithesis of Doctor Strang's opinion in his dictates to the students on that controversy. The Doctor being pitched upon to be one of his opponents, found his credit and reputation much engaged, and exerted his metaphysical and subtile talent on that occasion. But Mr. Binning maintained his ground by the weight and solidity of his defence, to the great satisfaction of all that were present, so that some were pleased to say, that young Mr. Binning appeared to be the old learned Doctor; Nay, the Doctor himself after the recounter, admiring Mr Binning's abilities and parts, said, "Where hath this young man got all this learning and reading?".(102) When he had finished his trials, he had the unanimous approbation of the presbytery, nay, their declaration and testimony of his fitness to be one of the ministers of the city, upon the first vacancy. And I am assured, that at the very same time the Masters of the University had it in their view to bring him back again to their society, whenever the profession of Divinity should become vacant.

He was, considering his age, a prodigy of learning, for before he had arrived at the 26th year of his life, he had such a large stock of useful knowledge, as to be philologus, philosophus, and theologus praestans,(103) and might well have been an ornament to the most famous and flourishing university in Europe. This was the more astonishing, if we consider his weakness and infirmity of body, not being able to read much at one time, or to undergo the fatigue of assiduous study. But this was well supplied, partly by a memory that retained every thing he heard or read, and partly by a solid penetrating judgment, whereby he digested it well, and made it his own, so that with a singular dexterity, he could bring it forth seasonably, and communicate it to the use and advantage of others, drained from the dregs he found about it, or intermixed with it; insomuch that his knowledge seemed rather to be born with him, than to have been acquired by hard and laborious study.

From his childhood he knew the Scriptures, and from a boy had been under much deep and spiritual exercise, until the time (or a little before it) of his entry upon the office of the ministry, when he came to a great calm and lasting tranquillity of mind, being mercifully relieved of all those doubtings which had for a long time greatly exercised him, and though he was of a tender and weakly constitution, yet love to Christ, and a concern for the good of precious souls committed to him, constrained him to such diligence in feeding the flock, as to spend himself in the work of the ministry. It was observed of him, that he was not much averse at any time from embracing an invitation to preach before the most experienced Christians, even the learned professors of the university, and the Reverend ministers of the city, and when one of his most intimate friends noticed herein a difference from that modesty and self denial, which appeared in the whole of his way and conduct, he took the freedom to ask him, how he came to be so easily prevailed with to preach before persons of so great experience and judgment, whose eminent gifts and graces he highly valued and esteemed? He made this excellent reply, that when he had a clear call to mention his blessed Master's name in any place, he had no more to say, but, "Here am I, send me. What am I that I should resist his heavenly call? And when he, whose name is holy and reverend, is spoken of and to, and is there present, the presence of no other person is to be regarded or dreaded, and under that impression, I forget who is present, and who is absent."

Though he was bookish, and much intent upon the fulfilling of his ministry, he turned his thoughts to marriage, and did marry a virtuous and excellent person, Mistress Barbara Simpson,(104) daughter of Mr. James Simpson, a minister in Ireland.(105) Upon the day on which he was to be married, he went accompanied with his friends (amongst whom were some grave and worthy ministers) to an adjacent country congregation, upon the day of their weekly sermon. The minister of the parish(106) delayed sermon till they should come, hoping to put the work upon one of the ministers he expected to be there. But all of them declining it, he next tried if he could prevail with the bridegroom, and succeeded, though the invitation was not expected, and the nature of the occasion seemed to be somewhat alien from his being employed in that work. It was no difficult task to him upon a short warning to preach, having a prompt and ready gift. He was never at a loss for words and matter, and having stepped aside a little time to premeditate and implore his Master's presence and assistance (for he was ever afraid to be alone in that work) he went immediately to the pulpit, and preached upon 1 Pet i. 15 "But as he who hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation." At which time, he was so remarkably helped, that all acknowledged that God was with him of a truth. And the people of the parish, who had come to hear their own minister, (a truly pious and excellent man,) were so surprised and taken with him, as if God, besides his ordinary resident (so Mr. McWard expresses it) had sent them an extraordinary ambassador to negotiate a peace between God and them, and a prompt paranymph unto, and a skilful suitor of a spouse for Jesus Christ the blessed Bridegroom, that he might present them as a chaste virgin to this divine Husband.

However he studied in his public discourses to condescend to the capacity of the meaner sort of hearers, yet it must be owned, that his preaching gift was not so much accommodated and suited to a country congregation, as it was to the judicious and learned. (107) The subjects of sermons are so numerous and various, and the order of men's disposing of their thoughts upon these subjects so different, that a suit of clothes may be as soon made to answer every man's back, as a fixed and invariable method may be prescribed, that shall agree to every subject, and every man's taste. Mr. Binning's method was singular and peculiar to himself, much after the haranguing way.(108) He was no stranger to the rules of art, and knew well how to make his method subservient to the subjects he handled. And though he tells not his discourse has so many parts, yet it wanted not method, it being _mani _ mum artis celare artem_.(109) His diction and language is easy and fluent, neat and fine, void of all affectation and bombast. His style is free from starch lusciousness and intricacy, every period has a kind of undesigned negligent elegance, which arrests the reader's attention, and makes what he says as apples of gold set in pictures of silver, so that, considering the time when he lived, it might be said, that he had carried the orator's prize from his cotemporaries in Scotland, and was not at that time inferior to the best pulpit orators in England, the English language having got its greatest embellishments and refinings but of late years. In his Sermons, his matter gives life to his words, and his words add a lustre to his matter. That great divine, Mr. James Durham,(110) an excellent judge of men, gave this verdict of him, that "there is no speaking after Mr. Binning," and truly he had the tongue of the learned, and knew how to speak a word in season. The subject-matter of his Sermons is mostly practical, and yet rational and argumentive, fit to inform the understanding of his hearers, and move their affections and when controversies come in his way, he shows great acuteness and judgment in discussing and determining them, and no less skill in applying them to practice. His discourses are so solid and substantial, so heavenly and sublime, that they not only feed but feast the reader, as with marrow and fatness. In the most of them, we meet with much of the sublime, expressed in a most lofty, pathetic, and moving manner. Mr. M'Waid says in his letter, "That as to the whole of Mr. Binning's writings, I know no man's pen on the heads he hath handled more adapted for edification, or which, with a pleasant violence, will sooner find or force a passage into the heart of a judicious experienced reader, and cast fire, even ere he is aware (O happy surprise!) into his affections, and set them into a flame." And in another part of the same letter, he says, "The subjects he discourses upon are handled with such a pleasant and profitable variety of thought and expression, that the hearer or reader is taken with it, as if he had never met with it before. He was such a skilful scribe, as knew how to bring out of his store things new and old; the old with such sweetness and savour as it seemed still new, and the new retained its first sweetness so as never to grow old."

He and some young ministers in the same presbytery, who had been students of divinity when he was professor of philosophy, did keep private meetings for Christian fellowship, and their mutual improvement. But finding that he was in danger of being puffed up with the high opinion they had of him, he broke up these meetings, though he still kept up a brotherly correspondence with them, for the rigorous prosecution of their ministerial work. He studied to be clothed with humility, and to hide his attainments under that veil. Though he wanted not matter and words wherewith to please and profit all his hearers, yet at every thought of his appearing in public to speak of God and Christ to men, his soul was filled with a holy tremor, which he vented by saying, "Ah! Lord, I am a child and cannot speak. Teach me what I shall say of thee, who cannot order my speech by reason of darkness." In his first Sermon, on the fourth question of our Shorter Catechism, he expresses himself in a most elegant and rapturous manner. "We are now," says he, "about this question, What God is? But who can answer it? Or if answered, who can understand it? It should astonish us in the very entry, to think we are about to speak and to hear of his majesty, 'whom eye hath not seen, nor ear heard,' nor hath it entered into the heart of any creature to consider what he is. Think ye, blind men could understand a pertinent discourse of light and colours? Would they form any suitable notion of that they had never seen, and cannot be known but by seeing? What an ignorant speech would a deaf man make of sound, when a man cannot so much as know what it is, but by hearing of it? How then can we speak of God who dwells in inaccessible light, since though we had our eyes opened, yet they are far less proportioned to that resplendent brightness, than a blind eye is to the sun's light?"

He was a great student in the books of creation and providence, and took much pleasure in meditating upon what is written in these volumes. The wonders he discovered in both, led him up to the infinitely wise and powerful Maker and Preserver of all things. Once, when he came to visit a gentleman of good learning, and his intimate acquaintance, the gentleman took him to his garden, and in their walk he discoursed with him to his great surprise of the objective declarations, which every thing makes of its Almighty Creator and talked of the wisdom and goodness of God, particularly in clothing the earth with a green garb, rather than with a garment of any other colour, and having plucked a flower from it, he made a most savoury spiritual discourse. He so dissected and anatomized the same, as to set forth the glorious perfections of its Maker in a most taking and entertaining manner.

But the main object of his pious and devout contemplations was God in Christ reconciling the world to himself. For God who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, had shined into his heart to give him the light of the knowledge of God, in the face of Jesus Christ, so that he not only understood the mysteries of the kingdom of God himself, but it was given to him to make others know them. His preaching was in the demonstration of the Spirit, and of power. His Sermons are the very transcript of what had past betwixt God and his own soul. He spoke and wrote his experimental knowledge, and did both speak and write because he believed He did earnestly contend for the articles of faith and truths of religion, and could never think of parting with one hoof, or the least grain of truth, being persuaded, that Christian concord must have truth for its foundation, and holiness for its attendant, without which it will decline into a defection, and degenerate into a conspiracy against religion. As to the duties of Christianity, he enforced the performance of these with all the arguments of persuasion, so that, through the blessing of God, his pulpit discourses became the power of God to the illumination of the understandings of his hearers, the renovation of their natures, the reformation of their lives, and the salvation of their souls.

The difficult part of a reprover he acted in the most prudent and gaining manner, when he did lick with his tongue the mote out of his brother's eye, he did it with all tenderness, and with the tear in his own. His words wanted neither point nor edge for drawing the blood, when the case of the offender made it an indispensable duty; and when he was necessitated to use sharpness with any, they were convinced that he honestly and sincerely intended their spiritual good. His compassion on the ignorant and them that were out of the way, made it evident how much he considered himself as encompassed with infirmities, and so within the hazard of being tempted.

He was a person of exemplary moderation and sobriety of spirit, had healing methods much at heart, and studied to promote love and peace among his brethren in the ministry. He vigorously contributed to the recovery of the humanity of Christianity, which had been much lost in the differences of the times, and the animosities which followed thereupon. These virtues and graces had such an ascendant in his soul, that when he carried coals about with him, taken from the altar to warm the souls of all, with whom he conversed, with love to God, his truths, interests and people, so he carried sanctuary water about with him to cool and extinguish what of undue passion he perceived to accompany the zeal of good and well designing persons; a temper that is rarely found in one of his age. But ripe harvest grapes were found upon this vine in the beginning of spring; and no wonder, since he lived so near the Sun of Righteousness, and lay under the plentiful showers of divine grace, and the ripening influences of the Holy Spirit.

The prevailing of the English sectarians under Oliver Cromwell, to the overthrow of the Presbyterian interest in England, and the various attempts which they made in Scotland, on the constitution and discipline of this church, was one of the greatest difficulties which the ministry had then to struggle with. Upon this he made the following most excellent reflection, in a Sermon preached on a day of public humiliation, "What if the Lord hath defaced all that his kingdom was instrumental in building up in England, that he alone may have the glory in a second temple more glorious?"(111) And when he observed, that the zeal of many for the Solemn League and Covenant, (by which they were sworn to endeavour the preservation of the reformed religion in Scotland, and the reformation of religion in the kingdoms of England and Ireland,) was not attended with a suitable amendment of their own lives, he takes up a bitter lamentation over them in a very remarkable paragraph. "Alas! we deceive ourselves with the noise of a covenant, and a cause of God, we cry it up as an antidote against all evils, use it as a charm, even as the Jews did their temple, and in the mean time we do not care how we walk before God, or with our neighbours. Well, thus saith the Lord, 'Trust ye not in lying words, saying, The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord are these. For if ye throughly amend your ways and your doings, if ye throughly execute judgment between a man and his neighbour; if ye oppress not the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow, and shed not innocent blood in this place, neither walk after other gods to your hurt,' &c. Jer. vii. 4-6. If drunkenness reign among you, if filthiness, swearing, oppression, cruelty reign among you, your covenant is but a lie, all your professions are but lying words, and shall never keep you in your inheritances and dwellings. The Lord tells you what he requires of you, is it not to do justly, and love mercy, and walk humbly with God? Mic. vi. 8. This is that which the grace of God teaches, to deny 'ungodliness and worldly lusts,' and to 'live soberly, righteously, and godly,' towards God, your neighbour, and yourself, Tit. ii. 11, 12, and this he prefers to your public ordinances, your fasting, covenanting, preaching, and such like."(112)

When the unhappy distinction betwixt the public Resolutioners and Protesters(113) took place in this church. Mr. Binning was of the last denomination. This distinction proved to be of fatal consequences. He saw some of the evils of it in his own time, and being of a catholic and healing spirit, with a view to the cementing of differences, he wrote an excellent Treatise of Christian love,(114) which contains very strong and pathetic passages, most apposite to this subject, some of which we will afterwards have occasion to quote. He was no fomenter of faction, but studious of the public tranquillity. He was a man of moderate principles and temperate passions. He was far from being confident, or vehement in the managing of public affairs, never imposing or overbearing upon others, but willingly hearkened to advice, and yielded to reason.

After he had laboured four years in the ministry, serving God with his spirit in the gospel of his Son, whom he preached, warning every man and teaching every man in great ministerial wisdom and freedom, that he might present every man perfect in Christ Jesus—whereunto he laboured, strong according to his working, which wrought in him mightily,—;he died of a consumption, when he was scarce come to the prime and vigour of life, entering on the twenty sixth year of his age, leaving behind him a sweet savour after he was gone, and an epistle of commendation upon the hearts of his hearers. While he lived, he was highly valued and esteemed, having been a successful instrument of saving himself and them that heard him, of turning sinners unto righteousness, and of perfecting the saints, and died much lamented by all good people, who had the opportunity and advantage of knowing him. He was a person of singular piety, of a humble, meek, and peaceable temper, a judicious and lively preacher, nay, so extraordinary a person, that he was justly accounted a prodigy for the pregnancy of his natural parts, and his great proficiency in human learning, and knowledge of divinity. He was too shining a light to shine long and burned so intensely that he was soon put out. But he now shines in the kingdom of his Father, in a more conspicuous and refulgent manner, even as the brightness of the firmament, and as the stars for ever and ever.

The last Sermons he preached were those on Rom. viii. 14, 15: "For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear, but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father." He concluded the last of these discourses with a reflection on these words. "We cry, Abba, Father." "This (says he,) is much for our comfort, that from whomsoever, and whatsoever corner in the world, prayers come up to him, they cannot want acceptance. All languages, all countries, all places are sanctified by Jesus Christ, that whosoever calls upon the name of the Lord from the ends of the earth, shall be saved. And truly it is a sweet meditation to think, that from the ends of the earth the cries of souls are heard; and that the end is as near heaven as the middle, and a wilderness as near as a paradise, that though we understand not one another, yet we have one loving and living Father, that understands all our meanings. And so the different languages and dialects of the members of this body make no confusion in heaven, but meet together in his heart and affection, and are as one perfume, one incense, sent up from the whole catholic church, which is here scattered upon the earth. O that the Lord would persuade us to cry this way to our Father in all our necessities!"(115) Thus having contemplated that subject concerning the adoption of children, he was taken hence to the enjoyment of the inheritance reserved in the heavens for them, and the Spirit called him by death, as the voice did John the divine, Rev. iv. 1, "Come up hither."

He was buried in the churchyard of Govan, where Mr. Patrick Gillespie,(116) then principal of the university of Glasgow, at his own proper charges, (as I am credibly informed,) caused a monument(117) to be erected for him, on which there is to this day the following inscription in Latin:

HIC SITVS EST MR. HVGO BINNINGVS, VIR PIETATE, FACVNDIA, DOCTRINA CLARVS, PHILOLOGVS, PHILOSOPHVS, THEOLOGVS PRSAE, PRAECO DENIQVE EVANGELII FIDELIS ET EXIMIVS, QVI E MEDIO RERVM CVRSV SVBLATVS, ANNO AETATIS 26, DOM AVTEM 1653. MVTAVIT PATRIAM NON SOCIETEM, EO QVOD VIVVS CVM DEO AMBVLAVIT, ET SI QVID VLTRA INQVIRAS CAETERA SILEO, CVM NEC TV NEC MARMOR HOC CAPIAT

He left behind him a disconsolate widow, and an only son, called John after the grandfather, to whom the grandfather at his death had left the estate of Dalvennan,(118) but John having been engaged in the insurrection at Bothwell bridge, anno 1679, it was forfeited, and he continued dispossessed of it till the year 1690, when, by the 18th act of parliament in the said year, the forfeitures and fines past since the year 1665, to the 5th day of November, 1688, were rescinded.(119) His widow was afterwards married to one Mr. James Gordon,(120) a presbyterian minister for some time in the kingdom of Ireland. She lived to a great age, and died in the year 1694, at Paisley in the shire of Renfrew, about four or five miles from Govan; which, when the people of that parish heard, the savoury memory they still had of their worthy pastor, made them to desire the friends of the defunct, to allow them to give her a decent and honourable burial, beside her deceased husband, undertaking to defray all the charges of the funeral, which was done accordingly. And to this day Mr. Binning is mentioned among them with particular veneration. He was succeeded by Mr David Vetch,(121) who likewise died young.

Before I conclude this Relation, it is proper I give some account of his writings. The books published at different times under his name, which are contained in this volume, are all posthumous. Wherefore it will not be strange, if the reader shall meet with some passages in them that are less perfect and complete, since he did not intend them for the press, and that they want those finishing strokes, which such a masterly pen was able to give them. The good effects his discourses had upon the hearers, and the importunity of many judicious and experienced Christians to have them published, that they might have the same influence on such as should read them, encouraged some worthy ministers to revise and print them. And since these sermons have for a long time had the approbation both of learned divines and serious Christians, they need not any recommendation of mine.

The first of his works that was printed,(122) is entitled, "The Common Principles of the Christian Religion, clearly proved, and singularly improved, or a Practical Catechism, wherein some of the most concerning foundations of our faith are solidly laid down, and that doctrine which is according to godliness, is sweetly, yet pungently pressed home, and most satisfyingly handled." Mr. M'Ward speaking of this performance, says, "That it was not designed for the press, that it contained only his notes on those subjects he preached to his flock, and which he wrote (I suppose he means(123) in a fair hand) for the private use and edification of a friend, from whom he had them, and when put into his hand to be revised, he says, he did not so much as alter, or add one word, to make the sense more plain, full, or emphatical." This book is an excellent exposition of the Westminster Catechism, so far as it goes, viz. to the twenty first question, "Who is the Redeemer of God's elect?" Mr. Patrick Gillespie writes a preface to the reader, wherein he expresses his high opinion of it in the following encomium. "In this book Mr. Binning explains many of the fundamental articles of the Christian faith and had he lived to have perfected and finished this work, he had been upon this single account famous in the church of Christ." The Assembly's Catechism has had many expositions by pious and learned ministers, some of them by way of sermon, and others by way of question and answer. But this, so far as it goes, is not inferior to any. A learned layman, Sir Matthew Hales chief justice of the king's bench, the divine of the state in King Charles II.'s reign, judged the Assembly's Catechism to be an excellent composure, and thought it not below him, or unworthy of his pains to consider it. For in the second part of his "Contemplations moral and divine," we have his most instructive meditations upon the first three questions. These had been the employment of his horoe sacroe, and it is a pity he did not go on to the other questions. The shortness of Mr. Binning's life has deprived us of a complete course of useful catechetical discourses. This book was so greatly esteemed in this country, that before the year 1718, there had been no less than five impressions cast off the press,(124) and all these being sold off, a sixth was made in the said year. As they were much valued at home, so they were highly prized abroad, and as an evidence of this, I find that Mr. James Coleman, minister at Sluys in Flanders, translated them into the Dutch language.(125)

In the year 1670, another posthumous work was printed; it is entitled, "The Sinner's Sanctuary, being forty Sermons upon the Eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, from the first verse down to the sixteenth." The Publishers in their preface acquaint us, that they were encouraged to print it because the former treatise was universally received by the intelligent and judicious in the principles of the Christian faith. In this book, as in all his other writings, the readers will perceive a pure stream of piety and learning running through the whole, and a very peculiar turn of thought, that exceeds the common rate of writers on this choice part of the Holy Scriptures. Dr. Horton, Dr. Manton, and others, have printed a great number of useful practical discourses, but so far as he goes, he is not exceeded by any of them.

A third treatise was printed at Edinburgh, in the year 1671. The title of it is, "Fellowship with God, being twenty eight Sermons on the First Epistle of John, Chap. 1st, and Chap. 2d, Verses 1, 2, 3." In this book, we have the true ground and foundation of attaining the spiritual way of entertaining fellowship with the Father and the Son, and the blessed condition of such as attain to it, most succinctly and distinctly explained. This book was revised and published by one A. S. who, in his preface to the reader, styles himself, his servant in the gospel of our dearest Lord and Saviour. I need give no other commendation of it, than that summary eulogium which that minister has left us. "In a word, (says he,) here are to be found, convictions for atheists, piercing rebukes to the profane, clear instructions to the ignorant, milk to the babes in Christ, strong meat for the strong, strength to the weak, quickening and reviving for such as faint in the way, restoratives for such as are in a decay, reclamations and loud oyesses after backsliders to recall them, breasts of consolation for Zion's mourners. And to add no more, here are most excellent counsels and directions to serious seekers of fellowship with God, to guide them in their way, and help them forward to the attainment of that fulness of joy which is to be had in fellowship with the Father and the Son."

The last treatise that has been printed is, "Heart Humiliation, or Miscellany Sermons, preached upon some choice texts at several solemn occasions." These likewise were revised and published by the above A. S. in the year [1676]. Mr. Binning considering the great confusions and lamentable divisions that prevailed in the church in his day, and the abounding immorality and profaneness of the age, was deeply weighed therewith. His righteous soul was so vexed and grieved on these accounts, that he vented his mind in a most pathetic and moving manner, when the days of public humiliation and fasting were observed. With respect to the many fasts then appointed, and the few good effects they had, he says in his sermon on Isa. lxiv. 7—"There is none that calleth upon thy name, that stirreth up himself to take hold of thee,"—"The fasting days of Scotland will be numbered in the roll of the greatest provocations, because there is no real and spiritual conviction of sin among us, custom now hath taken away the solemnity, and there remaineth nothing but the very name."(126) And in this same sermon, he says, "Doth any of you pray more in private than ye used? Or what edge is upon your prayers? Alas! the Lord will get good leave to go from us, it feareth me we would give Christ a testimonial to go over seas. Hold him, hold him! Nay the multitude would be gladly quit of him,—they cannot abide his yoke, his work is a burden, his word is a torment, his discipline is bands and cords, and what heart can ye have to keep Christ? What violence can ye offer to him to hold him still? All your entreaties may be fair compliments, but they would never rend his garment."(127) There are still several manuscripts of Mr. Binning's carefully preserved, which are in nothing inferior to any of his printed works. There is a valuable Treatise upon Christian Love, consisting of several sheets writ in a very small character,—it is divided into chapters, and several sermons upon very edifying subjects, useful and profitable for our times,—which are designed to be printed in a separate volume, which every body may easily discover from the style and genius of the author to be his genuine writings, his manner of thinking and writing being a talent so peculiar to himself, that it scarcely can be imitated by any other person.

Had it pleased the Almighty to have spared so valuable a life for some time longer, he would have vindicated divinity from the many fruitless questions, unintelligible terms, empty notions, and perplexed subtilties, wherewith it had been corrupted for a long time by the schoolmen. As he was excellently fitted for this, so it was much upon his heart to have reduced divinity to that native simplicity, which had been lost in most parts of the world. A good specimen of his ability this way he hath given us in his catechism, and so, though he lived but a short time, he yet lived long enough to raise the greatest expectation that hath been known of any of his standing.

Mr. M'Ward assures us, That if Dr. Strang's dictates De Voluntate Dei circa peccata(128) had been published before Mr. Binning's death, Mr. Binning had an examen of them ready for the press. But this treasure, to the great loss of the learned world, cannot now be found. As for his philosophical writings which he taught in the University, I am assured that his course of philosophy is in the hands of a learned gentleman in this city, who gives them an high commendation.

There is a book published under his name in 4to, consisting of fifty-one pages, with this title, "An Useful Case of Conscience, learnedly and accurately discussed and resolved, concerning associations and confederacies with idolaters, infidels, heretics, malignants or any other known enemies of truth and godliness." But it is very much questioned by the most intelligent, if that book was really Mr. Binning's. The publisher does indeed put Mr. Binning's name to the title page, but conceals his own, and he brings no manner of voucher, showing that Mr. Binning was the author, but sends it abroad into the world in a clandestine manner. Neither the name of the printer, nor of the place where it was printed is mentioned in the title page.(129) It was printed in the year 1693, when the first General Assembly of this church after the Revolution, which consisted of both Public Resolutioners and Protesters, had agreed to bury for ever all their differences about the Public Resolutions, concerning the question of employing malignants in the army, that was raised against the kingdom of England. It seems that he dreaded the frowns and censure of those worthy and faithful ministers of Jesus Christ, who had been a long time in the fire of persecution. But if we further consider, that our late glorious deliverer, King William, was in the year 1693 engaged in a defensive war with the Emperor of Germany and the King of Spain, against Louis XIV., the bloody tyrant of France and terror of Europe, who aimed at the universal monarchy thereof, and to overturn the happy revolution, the blessed benefits of which we have enjoyed ever since, it is evident, that the publisher was afraid of the resentment of the civil powers, especially when the spreading of that pamphlet might have an unhappy tendency to alienate the affections of his subjects, when he was carrying on that just and necessary war, for the preservation of our civil and religious liberties, to which we had been but lately restored. Nay, it is said, that when this pamphlet was spreading in the army in Flanders, it was like to have a bad influence on the soldiers, which made King William take an effectual method to suppress it. Further, Mr. Binning died in the year 1653, and this pamphlet was not published till the year 1693, so that, for the space of forty years it was never heard of nor made public by any of the Protesters themselves in that period, which would not have been neglected, had they known that Mr. Binning was the author of it. And lastly, Mr. Binning was of a pacific temper, and his sentiments with respect to public differences were healing, which are evident from the accounts already given of his printed books. And to show that he was a promoter of brotherly love, and of the peace of the church, I shall set down a few passages taken from his Treatise of Christian Love, which are as bright and strong for recommending the same, as any that I have met with in the writings of any of our divines, so that I can't allow myself to think he could be the author thereof. In chapter 2d of that Treatise, he says, "There is a greater moment and weight of Christianity in charity, than in the most part of those things for which Christians bite and devour one another. It is the fundamental law of the gospel, to which all positive precepts and ordinances should stoop. Unity in judgment is very needful for the well being of Christians. But Christ's last words persuade this, that unity in affection is more essential and fundamental. This is the badge he left to his disciples. If we cast away this upon every different apprehension of mind, we disown our Master, and disclaim his token and badge."(130) He goes on in the same strain in the following paragraph—"The apostle Paul puts a high note of commendation upon charity, when he styles it the bond of perfection. 'Above all things (says he) put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness,' Col. iii. 14. I am sure it hath not so high a place in the minds and practice of Christians now, as it hath in the roll of the parts and members of the new man here set down. Here it is above all. With us it is below all, even below every apprehension of doubtful truths. An agreement in the conception of any poor petty controversial matter of the times, is made the badge of Christianity, and set in an eminent place above all."(131) And in the same chapter he adds, "This is the sum of all, to worship God in faith and purity, and to love one another. And, whatsoever debates and questions tend to the breach of this bond, and have no eminent and remarkable advantage in them, suppose they be conceived to be about matters of conscience, yet the entertaining and prosecuting of them to the prejudice of this, is a manifest violence offered to the law of God, which is the rule of conscience. It is a perverting of scripture and conscience to a wrong end. I say then, that charity and Christian love should be the moderatrix of all our actions towards men. From thence they should proceed, and according to this rule be formed. I am persuaded if this rule were followed, the present differences in judgment of godly men, about such matters as minister mere questions, would soon be buried in the gulf of Christian affection."(132) I shall mention only another in the same chapter. "Is not charity more excellent than the knowledge and acknowledgment of some present questionable matters about government, treaties, and such like, and far more than every punctilio of them? But the apostle goes higher. Suppose a man could spend all his substance upon the maintenance of such an opinion, and give his life for the defence of it, though in itself it be commendable, yet if he want charity and love to his brethren, if he overstretch that point of conscience to the breach of Christian affection and duties flowing from it, it profits him nothing. Then certainly charity must rule our external actions, and have the predominant hand in the use of all gifts, and in the venting of all opinions."(133) And now, having given a just character of this eminent minister of the gospel, a true account of his life, and some slight remarks upon his writings, I shall no longer detain the reader from the perusal of those treatises that are contained in this volume; from which you will know more of Mr. Binning, than from all I and others have said in his just praise. I shall now conclude, by acquainting the purchasers and readers of this volume, that I am allowed by the publishers to assure them, that the rest of his practical manuscripts are revising for the press; and that with all expedition they shall be printed; from which I am hopeful they shall receive as great satisfaction, as from any of his pieces already published.



THE COMMON PRINCIPLES OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION, CLEARLY PROVED, AND SINGULARLY IMPROVED; OR, A PRACTICAL CATECHISM.



Original Preface.

To The Reader

Christian Reader,—The holy and learned author of this little book, having outrun his years, hastened to a maturity before the ordinary season, insomuch that ripe summer fruit was found with him by the first of the spring, for before he had lived twenty five years complete, he had got to be Philologus, Philosophus, Theologus eximius, whereof he gave suitable proofs, by his labours, having first professed in philosophy three years, with high approbation, in the university of Glasgow, and thence was translated to the ministry of the gospel in a congregation adjacent, where he laboured in the work of the gospel near four years, leaving an epistle of commendation upon the hearts of his hearers. But as few burning and shining lights have been of long continuance here so he (after he had served his own generation by the will of God, and many had rejoiced in his light for a season) was quickly transported to the land of promise, in the 26th year of his age. He lived deservedly esteemed and beloved, and died much lamented by all discerning Christians who knew him. And, indeed, the loss which the churches of Christ, in these parts, sustained in his death was the greater upon a double account; first, that he was a person fitted with dexterity to vindicate school divinity and practical theology from the superfluity of vain and fruitless perplexing questions wherewith latter times have corrupted both, and had it upon his spirit, in all his way to reduce(134) that native gospel simplicity, which, in most parts of the world where literature is in esteem, and where the gospel is preached, is almost exiled from the school and from the pulpit,—a specimen whereof the judicious reader may find in this little treatise. Besides, he was a person of eminent moderation and sobriety of spirit, (a rare grace in this generation,) whose heart was much drawn forth in the study of healing-ways and condescensions of love among brethren, one who longed for the recovering of the humanity of Christianity, which hath been well near lost in the bitter divisions of these times, and the animosities which have followed thereupon.

That which gave the rise to the publishing of this part of his manuscripts, was partly the longing of many who knew him after some fruit of his labours for the use of the church, and partly the exceeding great usefulness of the treatise, wherein, I am bold to say, that some fundamentals of the Christian religion, and great mysteries of faith, are handled with the greatest gospel simplicity and most dexterous plainness and are brought down to the meanest capacity and vulgar understanding, with abundant evidence of a great height and reach of useful knowledge in the author, who, had he lived to have perfected the explication of the grounds of religion in this manner—as he intended, in his opening the catechism unto his particular congregation—he had been, upon this single account, famous in the churches of Christ. But now, by this imperfect opus posthumum, thou art left to judge ex ungue leonem.

The author's method was his peculiar gift, who, being no stranger to the rules of art, knew well how to make his method subserve the matter which he handled; for, though he tell not always that his discourse hath so many parts, thou mayest not think it wants method, it being maximum artis celare artem. That the same Spirit which enabled him to conceive, and communicate to others, these sweet mysteries of salvation, may help thee with profit to read and peruse them, is the desire of him who is,

Thine in the service of the Gospel, PATRICK GILLESPIE



Lecture I.

God's Glory the Chief End of Man's Being

Rom. xi. 36.—"Of him and through him, and to him, are all things, to whom be glory for ever." And 1 Cor. x. 31—"Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God."

All that men have to know, may be comprised under these two heads,—What their end is, and What is the right way to attain to that end? And all that we have to do, is by any means to seek to compass that end. These are the two cardinal points of a man's knowledge and exercise. Quo et qua eundum est,—Whither to go, and what way to go. If there be a mistake in any of these fundamentals, all is wrong. All arts and sciences have their principles and grounds that must be presupposed to all solid knowledge and right practice, so hath the true religion some fundamental principals which must be laid to heart and imprinted into the soul, or there can be no superstructure of true and saving knowledge and no practice in Christianity that can lead to a blessed end. But as the principles are not many, but a few common and easy grounds, from which all the conclusions of art are reduced, so the principles of true religion are few and plain; they need neither burden your memory, nor confound your understanding. That which may save you "is nigh thee," says the apostle, (Rom. x. 8) "even in thy mouth." It is neither too far above us, nor too far below us. But, alas! your not considering of these common and few and easy grounds makes them both burdensome to the memory, and dark to the understanding. As there is nothing so easy but it becomes difficult of you do it against your will,—Nihil est tam facile, quin difficile fiat, si invitus feceris,—so there is nothing so plain, so common, but it becomes dark and hard if you do not indeed consider it and lay it to heart.

That which is, in the first place, to be considered is, Our end. As in all other arts and every petty business, it hath the first place of consideration, so especially in the Christian religion. It is the first cause of all human actions, and the first principle of all deliberate motions. Except you would walk at random not knowing whither you go, or what you do, you must once establish this and fix it in your intention—What is the great end and purpose wherefore I am created, and sent into the world? It this be not either questioned, or not rightly constituted, you cannot but spend your time, Vel nihil agendo, vel aliud agendo, vel male agendo, you must either do nothing, or nothing to purpose, or, that which is worse, that which will undo you. It is certainly the wrong establishing of this one thing that makes the most part of our motions either altogether irregular, or unprofitable, or destructive and hurtful. Therefore, as this point hath the first place in your catechism, so it ought to be first of all laid to heart, and pondered as the one necessary thing. "One thing is needful," says Christ, Luke x. 42, and if any thing be in a superlative degree needful, this is it. O that you would choose to consider it, as the necessity and weight of it require!

We have read two scriptures, which speak to the ultimate and chief end of man, which is the glorifying of God by all our actions and words and thoughts. In which we have these things of importance: 1. That God's glory is the end of our being. 2. That God's glory should be the end of our doing. And, 3. The ground of both these; because both being and doing are from him, therefore they ought to be both for him. He is the first cause of both, and therefore he ought to be the last end of both. "Of him, and through him, are all things;" and therefore all things are also for him, and therefore all things should be done to him.

God is independent altogether, and self-sufficient. This is his royal prerogative, wherein he infinitely transcends all created perfection. He is of himself, and for himself; from no other, and for no other, "but of him, and for him, are all things." He is the fountain-head; you ought to follow the streams up to it, and then to rest, for you can go no farther. But the creature, even the most perfect work, besides God, it hath these two ingredients of limitation and imperfection in its bosom: it is from another, and for another. It hath its rise out of the fountain of God's immense power and goodness, and it must run towards that again, till it empty all its faculties and excellencies into that same sea of goodness. Dependence is the proper notion of a created being,—dependence upon that infinite independent Being, as the first immediate cause, and the last immediate end. You see then that this principle is engraven in the very nature of man. It is as certain and evident that man is made for God's glory, and for no other end, as that he is from God's power, and from no other cause. Except men do violate their own conscience, and put out their own eyes—as the Gentiles did, Rom. i. 19 &c.—"that which may be known" of man's chief end, "is manifest in them," so that all men are "without excuse." As God's being is independent, so that he cannot be expressed by any name more suitable than such as he takes to himself, "I am that I am,"—importing a boundless, ineffable, absolute, and transcendent being, beside which, no creature deserves so much as to have the name of being, or to be made mention of in one day with his name, because his glorious light makes the poor derived shadow of light in other creatures to disappear, and to evanish out of the world of beings,—so it is the glorious perfection of his nature, that he doth "all things for himself," Prov. xvi. 4, for his own name; and his glory is as dear to him as himself. "I am the Lord, that is my name, and [therefore] my glory will I not give to another," Isa. xlii. 8; and xlviii. 11. This is no ambition. Indeed, for a man to seek his own glory, or search into it, "is not glory," (Prov. xxv. 27), but rather a man's shame. Self-seeking in creatures is a monstrous and incongruous thing; it is as absurd, and unbeseeming a creature, to seek its own glory, as to attribute to itself its own being. Shall the thing formed say to the potter, Thou hast not made me? That were ridiculous. And shall the thing formed say, 'Tis made for itself? That were as ridiculous. Self-denial is the ornament and beauty of a creature, and therefore humility is an ornament and clothing, 1 Pet. v. 5; and honour upholds the humble spirit, Prov. xxix. 23. But God's self-seeking, and seeking of his own glory, is his eminent excellency. It is indeed his glory, because he is, and there is none else; there is nothing, besides him, but that which hath issued forth from his incomprehensible fulness. And therefore it is all the reason of the world, that as he is the beginning, so he should be the end of all things, Rev. i. 8. And there is the more reason of it, that his majesty's seeking of his own glory is not prejudicial to the creature's good, but the very communication of his fulness goes along with it: so that in glorifying himself, he is most beneficial to his own creatures. Poor creatures, indigent at home, are yet proud of nothing, and endeavour, in seeking of themselves, to engross all perfections into their own bosoms! Ambition and vainglory robs and spoils others' excellencies to clothe itself withal; and then boasts itself in these borrowed feathers! But our blessed Lord is then doing most for our advantage when he does all for his own glory. He needs not go abroad to seek perfection, but to manifest what he is in himself; he communicates of himself to us. O blessed self-seeking that gave us a being and well-being; that makes no advantage by it, but gives advantage! He hath the honour of all, but we have the profit of all.

"All things are of him, and for him;" but man in a peculiar and proper way. As God, in making of man, was pleased of his goodness to stamp him with a character of his own image—and in this he puts a difference between man and other creatures, that he should have more plain and distinct engravings of divine majesty upon him, which might show the glory of the workman—so it appears that he is in a singular way made for God, as his last end. As he is set nearer God, as the beginning and cause, than other creatures; so he is placed nearer God as the end. All creatures are made ultimo, lastly, for God, yet they are all made proximo, nextly, for man. Therefore David falls out a wondering, "Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of him," "and hast made him to have dominion over the works of thy hands, and put all things under his feet!" Psal. viii. 4, 6. The creature comes out in a direct line from God, as the beams from the body of the sun; and it is directed towards the use and service of mankind, from whom all the excellency and perfection that is in it should reflect towards God again. Man is both proximo et ultimo for God. We are to return immediately to the fountain of our being; and thus our happiness and well-being is perpetuated. There is nothing intervening between God and us that our use and service and honour should be directed towards: but all the songs and perfections of the creature, that are among the rest of the creatures, meet all in man as their centre, for this purpose that he may return with them all to the glorious fountain from whence they issued. Thus we stand next God, and in the middle between God and other creatures. This, I say, was the condition of our creation. We had our being immediately from God, as the beginning of all; and we were to have our happiness and well-being by returning immediately to God as the end of all. But sin coming in between God and us, hath displaced us, so that we cannot now stand next God, without the intervention of a Mediator; and we cannot stand between God and creatures, to offer up their praises to him; but "there is one Mediator between God and man," that offers up both man's praises and the creature's songs which meet in man.

Now, seeing God hath made all things for himself, and especially man for his own glory, that he may show forth in him the glory and excellence of his power, goodness, holiness, justice, and mercy; it is not only most reasonable that man should do all things that he doth to the glory of God, but it is even the beauty and perfection of a man,—the greatest accession that can be to his being,—to glorify God by that being. We are not our own, therefore we ought not to live to ourselves, but to God whose we are.

But you may ask, What is it to glorify God? Doth our goodness extend to him? Or is it an advantage to the Almighty that we are righteous? No indeed! And herein is the vast difference between God's glorifying of us and sanctifying of us, and our glorifying and sanctifying of him. God "calls things that are not," and makes them to be: but we can do no more but call things that are, and that far below what they are. God's glorifying is creative,—ours only declarative. He makes us such,—we do no more but declare him to be such. This then is the proper work that man is created for, to be a witness of God's glory, and to give testimony to the appearances and out-breakings of it in the ways of power and justice and mercy and truth. Other creatures are called to glorify God, but it is rather a proclamation to dull and senseless men, and a provocation of them to their duty. As Christ said to the Pharisees, "If these children hold their peace, the stones would cry out," so may the Lord turn himself from stupid and senseless man, to the stones and woods and seas and sun and moon, and exhort them to man's duty, the more to provoke and stir up our dulness, and to make us consider that it is a greater wonder that man, whom God hath made so glorious, can so little express God's glory, than if stupid and senseless creatures should break out in singing and praising of his majesty. The creatures are the books wherein the lines of the song of God's praises are written; and man is made a creature capable to read them, and to tune that song. They are appointed to bring in brick to our hand; and God has fashioned us for this employment, to make such a building of it. We are the mouth of the creation; but ere God want praises when our mouth is dumb, and our ears deaf, God will open the mouths of asses, "of babes and sucklings," and in them perfect praises, Psal. viii. 1, 2. Epictetus said well, _Si Luscinia essem, canerem ut Luscinia: cum autem homo sim, _ quid agam? Laudabo Deum, nec unquam cessabo_—If I were a lark, I would sing as a lark, but seeing I am a man, what should I do, but praise God without ceasing? It is as proper to us to praise God, as for a bird to chaunt. All beasts have their own sounds and voices peculiar to their own nature, this is the natural sound of a man. Now as you would think it monstrous to hear a melodious bird croaking as a raven, so it is no less monstrous and degenerate to hear the most part of the discourses of men savoring nothing of God. If we had known that innocent estate of man, O how would we think he had fallen from heaven! We would imagine that we were thrust down from heaven, where we heard the melodious songs of angels, into hell, to hear the howlings of damned spirits. This then is that we are bound unto, by the bond of our creation, this is our proper office and station God once set us into, when he assigned every creature its own use and exercise. This was our portion, (and O the noblest of all, because nearest the King's own person!) to acknowledge in our hearts inwardly, and to expires in our words and actions outwardly, what a One he is, according as he hath revealed himself in his word and works. It is great honour to a creature to have the meanest employment in the court of this great king, but, O, what is it to be set over all the King's house, and over all his kingdom! But, then, what is that in respect of this,—to be next to the King—to wait on his own person, so to speak? Therefore the godly man is described as a waiting maid, or servant. Psal. cxxiii. 2.

Well then, without more discourse upon it, without multiplying of it into particular branches, to glorify God is in our souls to conceive of him, and meditate on his name, till they receive the impression and stamp of all the letters of his glorious name, and then to express this in our words and actions in commending of him, and obeying of him. Our souls should be as wax to express the seal of his glorious attributes of justice, power, goodness, holiness, and mercy, and as the water that receives the beams of the sun reflects them back again, so should our spirits receive the sweet warming beams of his love and glorious excellency, and then reflect them towards his Majesty, with the desires and affections of our souls. All our thoughts of him, all our affections towards him, should have the stamp of singularity, such as may declare there is none like him, none besides him, our love, our meditation, our acknowledgement should have this character on their front,—"There is none besides thee; thou art, and none else." And then a soul should, by the cords of affection to him and admiration of him, be bound to serve him. Creation puts on the obligation to glorify him in our body and spirits which are his, but affection only puts that to exercise. All other bonds leave our natures at liberty, but this constrains, 2 Cor. v. 14, it binds on all bonds, it ties on us all divine obligations. Then a soul will glorify God, when love so unites it to God, and makes it one spirit with him, that his glory becomes its honour, and becomes the principle of all our inward affections and outward actions. It is not always possible to have and express particular thoughts of God and his glory, in every action and meditation, but, for the most part it ought to be so. And if souls were accustomed to meditation on God, it would become their very nature,—altera natura,—pleasant and delightsome. However, if there be not always an express intention of God's glory, yet there ought to be kept always such a disposition and temper of spirit as it may be construed to proceed from the intention of God's glory, and then it remains in the seed and fruit, if not in itself.

Now when we are speaking of the great end and purpose of our creation, we call to mind our lamentable and tragical fall from that blessed station we were constitute into. "All men have sinned and come short of the glory of God," Rom. iii. 23. His being in the world was for that glory, and he is come short of that glory. O strange shortcoming! Short of all that he was ordained for! What is he now meet for? For what purpose is that chief of the works of God now! The salt, if it lose its saltness, is meet for nothing, for wherewithal shall it be seasoned? Mark ix. 50. Even so, when man is rendered unfit for his proper end, he is meet for nothing, but to be cast out and trode upon, he is like a withered branch that must be cast into the fire, John xv. 6. Some things, if they fail in one use, they are good for another, but the best things are not so,—Corruptio optimi pessima. As the Lord speaks to the house of Israel, "Shall wood be taken of the vine tree to do any work?" Even so the inhabitants of Jerusalem, Ezek. xv. 2-6. If it yield not wine, it is good for nothing. So, if man do not glorify God,—if he fall from that,—he is meet for nothing, but to be cast into the fire of hell, and burnt for ever, he is for no use in the creation, but to be fuel to the fire of the Lord's indignation.

But behold! the goodness of the Lord and his kindness and love hath "appeared toward man. Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us," "through Jesus Christ," Tit. iii, 4, 5, 6. Our Lord Jesus, by whom all things were created, and for whom, would not let this excellent workmanship perish so, therefore he goes about the work of redemption,—a second creation more laborious and also more glorious than the first, that so he might glorify his Father and our Father. Thus the breach is made up, thus the unsavoury salt is seasoned, thus the withered branch is quickened again for that same fruit of praises and glorifying of God. This is the end of his second creation, as it was of the first: "We are his workmanship created to good works in Christ Jesus," Eph. ii. 10. "This is the work of God to believe on him whom he hath sent, to set to our seal, and to give our testimony to all his attributes," John vi. 29 and iii. 33. We are "bought with a price," and therefore we ought to glorify him with our souls and bodies. He made us with a soul, and that bound us, but now he has made us again, and paid a price for us, and so we are twice bound not to be our own but his, "and so to glorify him in our bodies and spirits," 1 Cor. vi. ult. I beseech you, gather your spirits, call them home about the business. We once came short of our end,—God's glory and our happiness, but know, that it is attainable again. We lost both, but both are found in Christ. Awake then and stir up your spirits, else it shall be double condemnation—when we have the offer of being restored to our former blessed condition—to love our present misery better. Once establish this point within your souls, and therefore ask, Why came I hither? To what purpose am I come into the world? If you do not ask it, what will you answer when he asks you at your appearance before his tribunal? I beseech you, what will many of you say in that day when the Master returns and takes an account of your dispensation? You are sent into the world only for this business—to serve the Lord. Now what will many of you answer? If you speak the truth (as then you must do it,—you cannot lie then!) you must say, "Lord, I spent my time in serving my own lusts, I was taken up with other businesses, and had no leisure, I was occupied in my calling," &c. Even as if an ambassador of a king should return him this account of his negociation. "I was busy at cards and dice, I spent my money, and did wear my clothes." Though you think your ploughing and borrowing and trafficking and reaping very necessary, yet certainly these are but as trifles and toys to the main business. O what a dreadful account will souls make! They come here for no purpose but to serve their bodies and senses, to be slaves to all the creatures which were once put under man's feet. Now man is under the feet of all, and he has put himself so. If you were of these creatures, then you might be for them. You seek them as if you were created for them, and not they for you, and you seek yourselves, as if you were of yourselves, and had not your descent of God. Know, my beloved, that you were not made for that purpose, nor yet redeemed either to serve yourselves, or other creatures, but that other creatures might serve you, and ye serve God, Luke i. 74, 75. And this is really the best way to serve ourselves and to save ourselves,—to serve God. Self seeking is self-destroying, self denying is self-saving, soul saving. "He that seeketh to save his life shall lose it, and he that loseth his life shall find it, and he that denies himself and follows me, is my disciple." Will ye once sit down in good earnest about this business? 'Tis lamentable to be yet to begin to learn to live, when ye must die! Ye will be out of the world almost, ere ye bethink yourself, Why came I into the world? Quindam tunc vivere incipiunt, cum desinendum est, imo quidam ante vivere desierunt quam inciperent, this is of all most lamentable,—many souls end their life, before they begin to live. For what is our life, but a living death, while we do not live to God, and while we live not in relation to the great end of our life and being,—the glory of God? It were better, says Christ, that such "had never been born." You who are created again in Jesus Christ, it most of all concerns you to ask, Why am I made? And why am I redeemed? And to what purpose? It is certainly that ye may glorify your heavenly Father, Mat. v. 16; Ps. lvi. 13. And you shall glorify him if you bring forth much fruit, and continue in his love, John xv. 8, 9. And this you are chosen and ordained unto, ver. 16, and therefore abide in him, that ye may bring forth fruit, ver. 4. And if you abide in him by believing, you do indeed honour him, and he that honoureth the Son honoureth the Father, John v. 23. Here is a compendious way to glorify God. Receive salvation of him freely, righteousness and eternal life, this sets to a seal to God's truth and grace and mercy, and whoso counts the Son worthy to be a Saviour to them, and sets to their seal of approbation to him whom God the Father hath sent and sealed, he also honours the Father, and then he that honoureth the Father, hath it not for nothing, "for them that honour me I will honour," 1 Sam ii. 30, says the Lord, and "he that serves me, him will my Father honour," John xii. 26. As the believing soul cares for no other, and respects no other but God, so he respects no other but such a soul. "I will dwell in the humble, and look unto the contrite," there are mutual respects and honours. God is the delight of such a soul, and such a soul is God's delight. That soul sets God in a high place, in a throne in its heart, and God sets that soul in a heavenly place with Christ, Eph. ii. 6, yea he comes down to sit with us and dwells in us, off his throne of majesty, Isa. lxvi. 1, 2, and lvii. 15.