a man's pleasure and credit, it
will at length bring on a fatal stroke that shall drive the tree to the
ground. There are some preparatory judgments, and some consummatory, some
wither the leaf, and some blow it quite off, some make men like the
harvest, ripe to put the sickle of judgment into it. The corruption of a
land, the universality of it, and formality in worshipping of God,
ripeneth a land for the harvest of judgment,--exposeth it to any
storm,--leaveth it open to the Lord's wrath, so that there is nothing to
hold his hand and keep off the stroke, but when the wind ariseth, and
iniquities have made it tempestuous, then who may stand? It will sweep
away nations and people as a flood, and make their place not to know them,
so that there shall be neither leaf nor branch left. There is often a
great calm with great provocations, and iniquities cry, "Peace, peace!"
But when once the cry of it is gone up to heaven, and hath engaged God's
anger against a people or person, then it raiseth a whirlwind that taketh
all away. Now, all this belongeth to you,--we told you the acknowledgment
of sin was yours already, and a wonder it is, that the complaint is not
ours also. Always this ought to be an admonition and example to us, on
whom the ends of the world are fallen. Therefore we would declare this
unto you, that sin and iniquities have judgment in the tail. Now you sit
at peace, every one in his own dwelling, and spread forth your branches,
but is there not much uncleanness among you? We would have you trouble
your carnal peace and security, trouble your ease with thoughts of this.
And we have ground to give this warning, because, if there were no more
but the iniquity of our holy things--the formality of our service--the
commonness of spirit in worship, this might be enough to raise the storm.
You know not for what reasons to be afraid of judgment. Look but on
original corruption, look on the defilement of your religious actions, and
then find ground sufficient of fading away. Though now you sit still, and
seem to be so settled, as you would never be moved, you dream of an
eternity here--you cleave in your hearts to your houses and lands--you stick
as fast to the world, and will not part with it, as a leaf to a tree, yet
behold the wind of the Lord may arise, that shall drive you away; take
your soul from these things, and then whose shall they be? If you will not
fear temporal judgments, yet I pray you fear eternal--fear