ue metal and stamp of divine knowledge, by the
intermixture of the gross darkness of our affections and conversation, as
that other is from the naked truth, and therefore both of them are found
light in the balance of the sanctuary, and counterfeit by this touchstone
of obedience.
To make out this examination the better I shall endeavour to open these
three things unto you, which comprehend the words. 1st, That the knowledge
of God in Jesus Christ is the most proper designation of a Christian,
"Hereby we know that we know him," which is as much as to say that we are
true Christians,--2dly, That the proper character of true knowledge is
obedience, or conscionable practising of what we know,--and then, lastly,
That the only estimate or trial of our estate before God, is made
according to the appearance of his work in us and not by immediate
thrusting ourselves into the secrets of God's hidden degrees. "Hereby we
know," &c. Here then, in a narrow circle we have all the work and business
of a Christian. His direct and principal duty is to know God, and keep his
commands, which are not two distinct duties as they come in a religious
consideration, but make up one complete work of Christianity, which
consists in conformity to God. Then the reflex and secondary duty of a
Christian, which makes much for his comfort, is, to know that he knows
God. To know God, and keep his commands, is a thing of indispensable
necessity to the being of a Christian, to know that we know him is of
great concernment to the comfort and well being of a Christian. Without
the first, a man is as miserable as he can be, without the sense and
feeling of misery, because he wants the spring and fountain of all
happiness; without the second, a Christian is unhappy, indeed, for the
present, though he may not be called miserable, because he is more happy
than he knows of, and only unhappy, because he knows not his happiness.
For the first, then, knowledge is a thing so natural to the spirit of a
man, that the desire of it is restless and insatiable. There is some
appetite of it in all men, though in the generality of people (because of
immersedness in earthly things, and the predominancy of corrupt lusts and
affections, which hinder most men's souls to wait upon that more noble
inquiry after knowledge, in which only a man really differs from a beast)
there be little or no stirring that way, yet some finer spirits there are,
that are unquiet this way, and, w
|