Chapter 25

Of the deceitfulness of our sorrow, desire, and confidence.

The 4th affection is sorrow, where there is a twofold deceit. The first deceit is when worldly sorrow shrouds itself under the countenance of godly vexation, of humiliation. Come to many in their afflictions, and reprove them for their carnal sorrow, and their answer is ready: when God's hand is gone out against us for our sins, should we not be humbled? Yes, for your sin. But behold the deceitfulness of your heart. It is the punishment that grieves you, not the sin — the surgeon's plaster, not your own sore. You grieve not at the punishment because of the sin deserving it, but at the sin because of the punishment following it.

The discovery of this deceit is as follows.

First, when, upon the ceasing of the punishment, we are cheered presently, though still both the guilt and filth of our sin stick in our conscience. Like the foolish boy who is glad when the smarting plaster is off, though his sore still remains unhealed. Whereas, if it were the sin that grieved us, our grief, together with our sin, should outlast the punishment. But if once we have any ease of our punishment, we give over our sorrowing immediately. This shows that, with those Jews, we mourn only for our corn and oil, and so on (Hosea 7:14).

The second discovery is by the property of godly sorrow, which is to make a man fresh and nimble in his spirits for prayer and other good duties. Whereas worldly sorrow lies heavy like lead upon a man's heart, and will make a man sleep sooner than pray — as in Jonah sleeping in the midst of a terrible tempest, which drove even the profane mariners to prayer — and in the disciples, who, being possessed with worldly sorrow, were neither able to watch one hour with Christ in prayer, nor fit to hear that doctrine which Christ otherwise was ready to have taught them. For so our Savior told them: I have many things to say to you, but you are not able to bear them — namely, because their spirits were dulled and deadened with worldly sorrow. Which, even in this sense also, may be said to cause death, though yet the opposition of life which the Apostle makes in that place (2 Corinthians 7) seems to restrain the sense to spiritual death. But it is true that worldly sorrow causes even this natural death. Whereas godly sorrow procures a good conscience, which is the very health of the bones, a continual feast. Even in the very act of mourning a man's heart is light and cheerful. If then we find our senses quickened, our spirits revived by our sorrow, so that we feel it give wings to our prayers, which before lay groveling on the ground, then we have an argument it is sound and good. For godly sorrow is always mixed with — indeed proceeds from — faith, which, in the apprehension of mercy, yields matter of joy to dilute the bitterness of our tears. But if we have no hearts to pray, if our sorrow makes us spiritually both dumb, so that we cannot speak to God, and deaf, so that we cannot — with those Israelites (Exodus 6:9) — hear God speaking to us, then we have cause to suspect our sorrow as unsound and deceitful.

The second deceit of our sorrow is when our own private sorrow is covered with the title of sorrow for the public evils of the church where we live. Usually it falls out that every one of us in particular is affected by the public calamities of the state where we live, and so is pinched with the sense of their pain. Hence many deceitfully imagine they are grieved for the public evils, when indeed it is no otherwise for the public than as those evils touch them in particular.

Here the discovery is as follows.

First, in the separation of our own cause from the church's. As when, it going ill with the church, it goes well with us in particular — if then we can distaste our own private felicities and call them Ichabods, as that good woman did her son when the ark was captured (1 Samuel 4:21), if then we are as pensive as if we ourselves in our own persons sustained what the church does, then it is an argument our grief is sincere. As in Nehemiah, whom his own ease, and great grace and authority in the king's court could nothing cheer or comfort in the common calamities of the church of God.

Second, when, besides the common evils of the church, we suffer some personal afflictions that concern us solely. If our grief be truly for the church's evils, then in this case the sense of grief for the public evils will blunt the edge of our private sorrow. As in two diseases of the body — the stone and the gout — when they meet together, the grief of the stone, because it is the greater, does take away all sense of the gout, because it is the lesser: so here in a godly mind the grief for our own private is drowned in the greater grief for the church's public distresses. But if it be quite contrary with us, that we cannot feel the church's misery because we are so affected with the sense of our own, this is more than a presumption that when the church's afflictions were our own, we mourned then for them only as our own and not as the church's — making the name of the church only a mask, and imitating Polus, who, under the representation of another's grief, truly and heartily lamented the death of his own son.

The 5th affection is desire, in which also there is a double deceit.

1 When our unnatural desires are cloaked with the name of natural. Though men's desires are infinite, and insatiable, yet for all this usually they deceive themselves with this, that they desire only a competency, neither poverty, nor riches, but only Agur's convenient portion. Now competency is that, which will not only serve nature, but that also which is fit for our estate, and calling. And so that which is but competent for one estate and calling, as say a Magistrate, is superfluity for another, as say a private man. Well then, let us see whether it be so usually with our desires, as they pretend, that they confine themselves within the bounds of mediocrity, and competency. The trial will be this, if, when they have that which is competent, they then rest contented. For there are three desires. The desire of nature, of grace, of corruption. Nature will be content with little: grace with less: but corruption is insatiable. If then there be no stopping with our desires, but when they have got that, which themselves, at first, would set down as a matter of competency, yet they still are like the craving horse-leeches, that cry Give, give, it is an argument it is the desire of corruption, not of nature, not of grace. Natural thirst is discerned from feverish by this, that the natural will be quenched with a draught, but the other is further provoked by drinking. So, when men shall say, I desire only a sufficiency, if I had but so much, I should be well satisfied then, and yet, when they have that, covet more greedily than ever before, this is a fever, a dropsy, a disease: no natural, no kindly thirst. But here this deceit of our desires is so much the harder to be discovered, in that it is not so easy to define in every thing that which is competent. And so under the cover of competency we quickly fall into the snare of pleasure, and excess. This Saint Augustine excellently describes in the desire of meats and drinks, and by like proportion we may apply it to the desire of any other thing. While, says he, feeling the trouble of want, I make towards the quiet of fullness, in the very passage from the one to the other, there lies in wait for me the snare of concupiscence. And whereas our health is the cause of our eating and drinking, here a certain dangerous pleasure joins itself as a handmaid, and yet for the most part labors to go before, that it may seem to be done for her sake whether I say I do, or would do for my health's sake. But there is not the same measure of both. For that which is enough for health, is too little for delight. And it is often uncertain whether the need of my body craves more, or the voluptuous deceit of my appetite. At this uncertainty my unhappy soul rejoices, as at the matter of her excuse, and defense, being glad that it does not appear what is sufficient for health, that so under the pretense of health she may shadow her intemperance.

2 Deceit is, when our carnal and worldly desires are accounted by us as spiritual. This deceit falls out in this case, when, in one and the same thing which we desire, there is matter fit to give contentment to both these desires. As in Simon Magus his desire of the gifts apostolical, besides the excellency of the gifts themselves, fit matter for a holy desire, there was also profit, and glory that might ensue, fit matter to provoke the carnal desire. Simon would seem to be devout and holy, and to desire the gifts for themselves, for that worthy reckoning he had of them. But Peter smelt out the close deceit that lurked in his heart, and saw that it was a fleshly desire looking toward gain (Acts 8:19-21). So the Apostle says, He that desires the office of a Bishop desires a worthy work (1 Timothy 3:1). Yet that desire which many have of it — how deceitful is it? The work desired is worthy: the desire of it in many is most base, and unworthy. For though there be fit matter in this office to kindle a holy, and spiritual desire, namely the beauty of the office itself, God's glory, and man's salvation shining in the very face thereof: yet withal there is some matter to stir up a crooked, and covetous desire, namely the hope of gain in a fat benefice. Here a covetous Balaam will hide his base desire of the reward of the office, with pretense of a spiritual desire of the office itself. Such is the deceit of those that buy livings under this pretense, that they desire to exercise their gifts which otherwise, the iniquity of the times being such, they cannot have the use of. So also in the matter of marriage this deceit is very usual. The party affected has piety matchable both to person, and portion, and yet both these in good measure too. Here one, too much wedded to the world, or to the flesh, will cloak his affection to portion, or person, with a pretense of affection to piety; as though that had the preeminence in swaying of his desires. Where perhaps, if the heart be truly searched, the contrary will appear.

The discovery of this deceit is when the matter that should satisfy the carnal desire being taken away, there only remains the inviter, and inciter of the spiritual, and holy. For if then we desire not as fervently as before, we may justly fear fraud in our desires. Here cooled desires are crafty, decaying, deceiving, flinching, false.

6 Affection is confidence. Where the deceit is, to think we trust in God, when indeed we trust only in the means. The deceit is, both when we have the means, and when we want them. The deceit of both, is discovered by our behavior towards God in the presence of the means. For if then we give over praying to God, or abate of our fervency in suing, and seeking to him for his help, we may well doubt of our confidence. For if we do truly rely on God, as on him who is sufficient without means, and without whom even the most sufficient means are altogether insufficient, why then do we begin so to secure ourselves, and lay aside all fear, when once we are fenced with the means? Again having been so confident and comfortable in the enjoyment of the means, if afterward in the time of danger, when the means fail us, we lose this confidence and show ourselves faint, and heartless cowards, this also is another conviction of deceit in our confidence. So both these ways is our confidence found out to be deceitful, both by excess of spirit in peace, and by want of spirit in trouble.

The like deceits might be shown in diverse other affections. But the work growing bigger than I thought it would, I forbear. So much then shall suffice to have spoken concerning the deceitfulness of the affections; as also concerning the whole doctrine of the deceitfulness of heart.