To My Dearly Beloved Friends and Neighbors, the Inhabitants of Lavenham

My Dear Friends,

SOlomon says, The desire of a man is his kindness, and a poor man is better than a liar, Proverbs 19:22. If you be of his minde, I dare promise these Notes, (which I here devote to your service) a kinde acceptance at your hands. You will finde me to be the poor man, by the mite I present you with; but the hearty desire of your eternal happiness from which it comes, will (I hope) clear me from being the liar. I never could be so serviceable to you, as many Ministers are to their people, having been with you in much weakness, and still it is the good pleasure of God, I should be staked down to a short tedder of strength and other abilities; I have reason therefore, (that I may, though not recompence that want, yet express my deep sense thereof) to croud the more love into the little I can do for you. And truly my heart is enlarged to you, and to God for you. If any thing makes me loath to be gone into another world, (which my dropping house bids me above many prepare for) it is not the least, to think I shall leave no more of you walking in the way to eternal life, and you who are on your way there, in no closer Gospel-order for your mutual help and comfort in your journey: yea, while I am among you, little do you think how much of your poor Ministers life lies at your mercy. If I should measure my life by the joy of it, (as indeed who does not?) Then in some uprightnesse I can say with Paul, I live as I see any of you stand fast in the Lord, and die as I see others stand fast in their sins, not to be moved with all the entreaties of the Gospel which have wooed you. And why (my dear friends) should not the life of your souls be much more precious in your own sight then mine? But I forbear, I would not willingly be thought, as some husbands are, to be kinder to you abroad before strangers, then I am at home.

What I present you with in this Treatise, is a dish from your own table, and so (I hope) will go down the better. You cannot despise it (though the fare be mean) except you will blame your selves who chose the Cook. I cannot be earnest with others, to bestow so much time as to read over these plain Sermons, lest it should be to their losse; it were but to call them from gathering sheaves in the more fruitful labors of others, to glean a few eares, and those but thin also in mine; yet with you, my people, I may be a little bold. Physicians say, the mothers milk though not so weighty as anothers, if no noxious humor be tasted in it, because natural, is more proper for the child then a strangers. And, I think, it would not be an errour, if I should say it held in the milk which the Minister gives to his flock. A people conscienciously lying at the breasts of their own Minister, (if the milk he gives be wholesome) may expect the blessing of God for their nourishment, though it has not so much lusciousnesse to please the curious taster as some others. Well, whatever these Sermons were, some of those few spirits which you found in hearing, will be missing in the reading of them. It is as easie to paint fire with the heat, as with pen and ink to commit that to paper, which occurres in preaching. There is as much difference between a Sermon in the Pulpit, and printed in a book, as between milk in the warme breast, and in a sucking bottle, yet what it loseth in the lively taste, is recompenced by the convenience of it. The book may be at hand when the Preacher cannot; and truly, that's the chief end of printing, that as the bottle and spoon is used when the mother is sick or out of the way; so the book, to quiet the Christian and stay his stomach in the absence of the Ordinance. He that reads Sermons and good bookes at home to save his paines of going to hear, is a thief to his soul in a religious habit: he consults for his ease, but not for his profit; he eats cold meat when he may have hot: He hazards the losing the benefit of both by contemning of one. If the Spouse could have had her beloved at home, she needed not to have coursed the streets and waited on the publick. O what need we offer sacriledge for sacrifice, rob God of one duty to pay him another? He has laid our work in better order, one wheele would not interfere with another, if we did more regularly. A chief part of Davids Arithmetick of numbring our days, lies in that which we call division, as to cast the account of this our short life so, as to divide the little whole summe thereof into the several portions of time due for the performing of every duty in. An Instrument is not in tune, except it have all the strings, and those will not make good musick, if the Musician has not wisdom to cause every string to speak in its due time; The Christian is not in tune, except he takes in all the duties of his place and calling, neither will the performance of them be harmonious in Gods eare, if every one be not done in its proper season. O my friends, labor not only to do the duty of your place, but that duty in its own place also. Heare when you should hear. Know your rime for closet, and time for shop: and when your retiring hour comes, a few minutes now and then spent in taking a repetition of what formerly you heard, shall not (I hope) another day be reckoned with your lost time. The Subject of the Treatise is solemn, A War between the Saint and Satan, and that so bloody a one, that the cruellest which ever was fought by men, will be found but sport and childes play to this. Alas, what is the killing of bodies to destroying of souls? 'Tis a sad meditation indeed, to think how many thousands have been sent to the grave in a few late years among us by the sword of man; But far more astonishing, to consider how many of those may be sent to hell by the sword of Gods wrath. 'Tis a spiritual war you shall reade of, and that not a history of what was fought many ages past and is now over; but of what now is doing, the Tragedy is at present acting, and that not at the furthest end of the world, but what concernes you and every one that reades it. The stage whereon this war is fought, is every mans own soul. Here is no Neuter in this war, the whole world is engaged in the quarrel, either for God against Satan, or for Satan against God. It was a great question some years past, Who are you for? The not giving a good account to which has cost many a life. O my dear friends, think solemnly what answer you meane to give to God and conscience, when they in a dying hour shall ask every one of you, Who are you for? 'Tis an incomparable mercy, that you are yet where you may choose your side: It will not be ever so, may be not a day to an end. If once in another world, you must then stand to your colours, yet you may run from the Devils quarters, and be taken into Christs pay. The Drum beats in the Gospel for Voluntiers. O, the Lord make you willing in the day of his power. I know you all would be on the surest side. O what can you be sure of, while under the devils Ensigne, but damnation? The curse of God cleavs to him and all that takes part with him O let not the little plunder & spoil of sinful pleasures and pelf, bewitch you still to follow his Camp. What is that souldier better for his booty he gets in a fight, who before he can get off with it, is himself slain upon the place? (so many have been served in these wars, if reports be true.) 'Tis that you must certainly look for. The piece is charg'd, and aime taken at your breast, which will be your eternal death if you persistest. Gods threatenings will go off at last and then where are you? where, but in hell, where your wedge of gold and Babylonish garment, your wages of unrighteousnesse will do you little stead? O Neighbors, I am loath to leave you in the way where Gods bullets flie; but I must have a word for you, my Christian friends, who have espoused Christs quarrel, and are in the field against Satan. My heart is towards you, who have thus willingly offered your selves among the Lords people to his help against the mighty. He can destroy him without you, but he takes your love as kindly as if he could not. God has sent me (as Jesse did David) with this little present to you and the rest of my Brethren that are in his Camp. May it be but to the strengthening of your hearts and hands in fighting the Lords battels, and I shall blesse God that put it into my heart thus to visit you. O hold on, dear friends, in your Christian warfare, let none take the crown from you. Whet your courage at the throne of grace, from whence all your recruits of soul-strength come. Send faith oft up the hill of the Promise, to see and bring you the certain newes of Christs coming to you, yea, for you, and assured victory with him. Reade the exploits, which Christs Worthies by faith have done, and in their Conquests reade your own, for in them he spoke with us, as the Prophet of Jacob. Be thankful for every victory you get, and let not the houling wilderness, yet before you, put the song of your praises for temptations past out of tune, yet rejoyce with trembling, as those who are still in your enemies countrey, and must keep by the sword what you get by the sword: Be sure you stand in close order amongst your selves; These times give us too many sad examples of such, who first fell from communion with their Brethren, and then into the devourers hand; straglers are soon snap't; you will finde you are safest in a body. Take heed of a private spirit; let not only your particular safety, but of the whole Army of Saints be in your eye and care, especially that company in which you march, (Congregation I mean;) that souldier which can see an enemy in fight with his brethren, and not help them, he makes t but the more easie for the enemy to slay himself at last; Say not therefore, Am I my brothers Keeper? God would not keep him that cared not to keep his brother. Watch over one another, not to play the Criticks on your brothers failings, and triumph when he halts, but to help him up if he falls, or if possible, to keep him from falling by a timely rescue, as Abishai came to Davids succour. Keep your rank and file. We see what advantage Satan has got in these loose times, since we have learnt to fight him out of order, and the private souldier, (Christian I mean) has taken the officers work out of his hands. Harden your selves against the scandals, which the cowardize and treachery of false brethren has given you. He is the right souldier that is not discouraged by those that run from, or that are slain in the battel; but still presses on to victory, though he goes to it over the backs of others that are killed upon the place. In a word, Disintangle your hearts what you can from the love of, and distracting cares for this present world. No man that warrs intangls himself with the affaires of this life,that he may please him who has chosen him to be a souldier, 2 Timothy 2:4. If it behoves any to have their Will ready made, and their worldly interests set at some stay, then surely the souldier: if any souldier, then the Christian. Get but once your hearts mortified to the world, and care rolled upon God, for name, estate, and relations here, and then you are fit to march whereever Christ will lead you. The want of this has made many run home to save their own private stake there, when they should have been in the field for Christ. And now, my Christian friends, march on, not in the confidence of your Armour, but in the power of his might, who has promised shortly to subdue Satan under your feet. I have done, only I must crave pardon of you, for rending this part of the Treatise from the other, which neither my little strength or leisure would suffer me to grasp at once.

But this having first put forth its hand in preaching, can make no great breach upon that, though it get the start a little in printing. Let me therefore, dear friends, (if God shall make this imperfect birth any way serviceable to your faith,) humbly desire, that you would as continue to strive at the throne of grace for a blessing on my poor Ministery among you, so also lift up a prayer, that strength may be given, to bring forth what of this yet is undeliver'd. I do not send you there where I intend not to meet you, but shall desire grace to be found faithful in striving with you, and for you, that amongst those who finde any spiritual advantage from my weak labors, you to whom they are chiefly devoted may not receive the least.

Lavenham, Jan. 1, 1655. So prays your affectionate, though unworthy Minister, WILLIAM GURNALL.

My Dear Friends,

Solomon says, "The desire of a man is his kindness, and a poor man is better than a liar" (Proverbs 19:22). If you share his view, I am confident these notes — which I dedicate to your service — will receive a warm welcome from you. You will find me to be the poor man by the small gift I bring, but the sincere desire for your eternal happiness from which it comes will, I hope, keep me from being the liar. I was never able to serve you as well as many ministers serve their people, having come to you in much weakness, and God has seen fit to keep me limited in strength and other abilities. For that reason — not to make up for that lack, but to express how deeply I feel it — I have all the more reason to pour as much love as I can into the little I am able to do for you. Truly, my heart is wide open toward you, and toward God on your behalf. If anything makes me reluctant to pass into the next world — which my failing health urges me more than most to prepare for — it is the thought of leaving so few of you walking the road to eternal life, and of leaving those who are on that road without the closer Gospel-fellowship that would help and comfort you on the journey. Indeed, while I am still among you, little do you realize how much of your poor minister's life rests in your hands. If I were to measure my life by its joy — as who does not? — then I can say with some honesty, as Paul did, that I live when I see any of you standing firm in the Lord, and I die when I see others standing firm in their sins, unmoved by all the invitations of the Gospel that have called out to them. And why, my dear friends, should the life of your souls be any less precious in your own sight than it is in mine? But I will stop there — I would not want to seem like a husband who is kinder to his wife in public before strangers than he is at home.

What I present to you in this treatise is a dish from your own table, and I hope it will sit well with you for that reason. You cannot look down on it — even if the fare is plain — without blaming yourselves, since you were the ones who chose the cook. I cannot urge others to spend much time reading these plain sermons, since that would draw them away from the richer labors of others to glean a few thin ears from mine. But with you, my own people, I can be a little bolder. Physicians say that a mother's milk, though not as rich as another woman's, is more fitting for her child precisely because it is natural — provided no harmful quality is found in it. I think the same could be said of the spiritual milk a minister gives his flock. A congregation that faithfully draws from its own minister — if what he gives is sound — may expect God's blessing in that nourishment, even if it lacks the richness that pleases a more demanding taste. Whatever these sermons may be, some of the vitality you experienced in hearing them will be missing when you read them. It is as impossible to paint fire with its heat as it is to capture in writing what happens in preaching. There is as much difference between a sermon in the pulpit and a sermon in a book as between milk warm from the breast and milk in a feeding bottle — yet what it loses in living taste it makes up for in convenience. The book can be at hand when the preacher cannot, and that is truly the chief purpose of printing: just as a bottle and spoon is used when the mother is sick or away, so the book quiets the Christian and sustains him in the absence of the ordinance. The person who reads sermons and good books at home to avoid the trouble of going to hear them is robbing his own soul while wearing the clothes of religion — he looks out for his comfort, not his growth; he eats cold food when hot is available. He risks losing the benefit of both by despising one. If the bride could have had her beloved at home, she would have had no need to search the streets and wait at the public places. Why should we offer theft in place of sacrifice, robbing God of one duty in order to pay Him another? He has arranged our work in better order than that — one wheel would not interfere with another if we lived more consistently. A large part of David's wisdom in numbering our days involves dividing — ordering this short life so that each duty receives its proper portion of time. An instrument is not in tune unless it has all its strings, and even with all its strings it will not make good music unless the musician knows when to let each string speak. The Christian is not in tune unless he takes up all the duties of his place and calling, and those duties will not be harmonious in God's hearing unless each one is done in its proper season. My friends, labor not only to do the duties of your place, but to do each duty in its proper place as well. Hear when you should hear. Know your time for the prayer closet and your time for the shop — and when your hour for withdrawing comes, a few minutes now and then reviewing what you heard will not, I hope, be counted among your wasted time. The subject of this treatise is solemn: a war between the saint and Satan — one so fierce that the cruelest battles ever fought by men will look like sport and child's play beside it. What is the killing of bodies compared to the destroying of souls? It is a sobering thought that tens of thousands were sent to the grave in recent years by the sword of man — but far more astonishing to consider how many of those may have been sent to hell by the sword of God's wrath. This is a spiritual war you will read about — not a history of battles fought long ago and now finished, but of what is happening right now. This conflict is not playing out at the far end of the world; it concerns you and everyone who reads this. The field on which this war is fought is every person's own soul. There are no neutrals in this war — the whole world is engaged in the conflict, either for God against Satan, or for Satan against God. In years past, a great question was: Whose side are you on? Failing to give a good answer cost many their lives. My dear friends, think seriously about what answer you intend to give to God and conscience when, in a dying hour, they ask each of you: Whose side are you on? It is an extraordinary mercy that you are still in a place where you can choose your side — that will not always be so, and perhaps not for one more day. If you are once in another world, you must stand by your colors, but here you may still flee Satan's camp and be taken into Christ's service. The drum beats in the Gospel calling for volunteers. O Lord, make them willing in the day of Your power. I know you all want to be on the winning side. What can you be sure of while under the devil's banner but damnation? The curse of God clings to him and to all who take his part. Do not let the small plunder and spoil of sinful pleasures and profit bewitch you into following his camp. What good is the soldier's loot from a battle if he himself is slain on the field before he can carry it off — as many have been in these wars, if the reports are true? That is what you must certainly expect. The weapon is loaded and aimed at your heart, and it will be your eternal death if you persist. God's threats will go off at last — and then where are you? In hell, where your wedge of gold and your Babylonish garment, your wages of unrighteousness, will do you little good. Neighbors, I am reluctant to leave you on the road where God's arrows fly — but I must have a word for you, my Christian friends, who have taken up Christ's cause and are in the field against Satan. My heart is with you who have willingly offered yourselves among the Lord's people to His help against the mighty. He could destroy Satan without you, but He receives your love as kindly as if He could not. God has sent me, as Jesse sent David, with this small gift to you and the rest of my brothers who are in His camp. If it serves only to strengthen your hearts and hands in fighting the Lord's battles, I will bless God that He put it into my heart to visit you in this way. Hold on, dear friends, in your Christian warfare — let no one take your crown. Sharpen your courage at the throne of grace, from which all your supplies of soul-strength come. Send faith often up to the hill of the promise, to see and bring back the sure news of Christ's coming to you — indeed, for you — and of assured victory with Him. Read the deeds that Christ's worthies have done by faith, and in their victories read your own, for through them He spoke to us as the God of Jacob. Be thankful for every victory you gain, and do not let the howling wilderness still ahead of you put your song of praise for past temptations out of tune — yet rejoice with trembling, as those still in enemy territory who must hold by the sword what they gain by the sword. Be sure to stand in close order with one another — these times give us too many sad examples of those who first fell away from fellowship with their brothers, and then fell into the destroyer's hand; stragglers are quickly seized. You will find you are safest as a body. Guard against a private spirit — keep in view and in mind not only your own safety, but the safety of the whole army of saints, especially the company in which you march — I mean your congregation. The soldier who sees an enemy fighting his brothers and does nothing only makes it easier for that enemy to slay him in the end. Do not say, therefore, "Am I my brother's keeper?" God would not keep the man who cared nothing for keeping his brother. Watch over one another — not to play the critic on your brother's failings and triumph when he stumbles, but to help him up if he falls, or better yet, to keep him from falling by a timely rescue, as Abishai came to David's aid. Keep your rank and file. We see what advantage Satan has gained in these disordered times, since we have tried to fight him out of proper order, and the private soldier — I mean the ordinary Christian — has taken the officer's work out of his hands. Harden yourselves against the scandals that the cowardice and treachery of false brothers have caused. The true soldier is one who is not discouraged by those who flee or fall in battle, but presses on to victory even if he has to step over the bodies of those cut down in the fight. In a word, disentangle your hearts as much as you can from love of, and distracting anxiety about, this present world. "No soldier in active service entangles himself in the affairs of everyday life, so that he may please the one who enlisted him" (2 Timothy 2:4). If anyone ought to have his affairs in order and his worldly interests settled, it is the soldier — and if any soldier, then surely the Christian. Once your heart is put to death toward the world, and the care for your name, estate, and relationships here is rolled onto God, you are fit to march wherever Christ leads. The lack of this has caused many to rush home to protect their own private stake there, when they should have been in the field for Christ. And now, my Christian friends, march on — not in confidence in your armor, but in the power of His might, who has promised soon to crush Satan under your feet.

But since this work appeared first in preaching, it cannot do much harm to the rest, even if this portion gets into print a little ahead of the whole. Therefore, dear friends — if God makes this imperfect work of any service to your faith — I humbly ask that you continue to press at the throne of grace for a blessing on my poor ministry among you, and also lift up a prayer that strength may be given to bring forth what of this work is still undelivered. I am not pointing you somewhere I do not intend to go myself, but will seek the grace to be found faithful in striving with you and for you — so that among all who find any spiritual benefit from my weak labors, you, to whom they are chiefly devoted, may receive not the least.

Lavenham, January 1, 1655. Your affectionate, though unworthy minister, William Gurnall.