have sufficient skill for that office, nor can you furnish him with gifts, etc., therefore you must run the hazard of his skill and ability. But if he fail in faithfulness, which by his oath he is bound unto, that he must answer for. If it fall out that the case be clear to common apprehension, and the rule clear also, if he transgress here, the error is not in the skill, but in the evil of the will: it must be required of him. But if the case be doubtful, or the rule doubtful, to men of such understanding and parts as your magistrates are, if your magistrates should err here, yourselves must bear it.

For the other point concerning liberty, I observe a great mistake in the country about that. There is a twofold liberty, natural (I mean as our nature is now corrupt) and civil or federal. The first is common to man with beasts and other creatures. By this, man, as he stands in relation to man simply, hath liberty to do what he lists; it is a liberty to evil as well as to good. This liberty is incompatible and inconsistent with authority, and cannot endure the least restraint of the most just authority. The exercise and maintaining of this liberty makes men grow more evil, and in time to be worse than brute beasts: omnes sumus licentia deteriores. This is that great enemy of truth and peace, that wild beast, which all the ordinances of God are bent against, to restrain and subdue it. The other kind of liberty I call civil or federal, it may also be termed moral, in reference to the covenant between God and man, in the moral law, and the politic covenants and constitutions, amongst men themselves. This liberty is the proper end and object of authority, and cannot subsist without it; and it is a liberty to that only which is good, just, and honest. This liberty you are to stand for, with the hazard (not only of your goods, but) of your lives, if need be. Whatsoever crosseth this, is not authority, but a distemper thereof. This liberty is maintained and exercised in a way of subjection to authority; it is of the same kind of liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free. The woman's own choice makes such a man her husband; yet being so chosen, he is her lord, and she is to be subject to him, yet in a way of liberty, not of bondage; and a true wife accounts her subjection her honor and freedom, and would not think her condition safe and free, but in her sub

jection to her husband's authority. Such is the liberty of the church under the authority of Christ, her king and husband; his yoke is so easy and sweet to her as a bride's ornaments; and if through frowardness or wantonness, etc., she shake it off, at any time, she is at no rest in her spirit, until she take it up again; and whether her lord smiles upon her, and embraceth her in his arms, or whether he frowns, or rebukes, or smites her, she apprehends the sweetness of his love in all, and is refreshed, supported, and instructed by every such dispensation of his authority over her. On the other side, ye know who they are that complain of this yoke and say, let us break their bands, etc., we will not have this man to rule over us. Even so, brethren, it will be between you and your magistrates. If you stand for your natural corrupt liberties, and will do what is good in your own eyes, you will not endure the least weight of authority, but will murmur, and oppose, and be always striving to shake off that yoke; but if you will be satisfied to enjoy such civil and lawful liberties, such as Christ allows you, then will you quietly and cheerfully submit unto that authority which is set over you, in all the administrations of it, for your good. Wherein, if we fail at any time, we hope we shall be willing (by God's assistance) to hearken to good advice from any of you, or in any other way of God; so shall your liberties be preserved, in upholding the honor and power of authority amongst you.

SOME EDIFYING CASUALTIES

[From "The History of New England" for 1648]

About eight persons were drowned this winter, all by adventuring upon the ice, except three, whereof two (one of them being far in drink) would needs pass from Boston to Winisemett in a small boat and a tempestuous night. This man (using to come home to Winisemett drunken) his wife would tell him, he would one day be drowned, etc., but he made light of it. Another went aboard a ship to make merry the last day at night, (being the beginning of the Lord's day,) and returning about midnight with three of the ship's company, the boat was overset by means of the ice, they guiding her by a rope, which went from the ship to

the shore. The seamen waded out, but the Boston man was drowned, being a man of good conversation and hopeful of some work of grace begun in him, but drawn away by the seamen's invitation. God will be sanctified in them that come near him. Two others were the children of one of the church of Boston. While the parents were at the lecture, the boy (being about seven years of age,) having a small staff in his hand, ran down upon the ice towards a boat he saw, and the ice breaking, he fell in, but his staff kept him up, till his sister, about fourteen years old, ran down to save her brother (though there were four men at hand, and called to her not to go, being themselves hasting to save him) and so drowned herself and him also, being past recovery ere the men could come at them, and could easily reach ground with their feet. The parents had no more sons, and confessed they had been too indulgent towards him, and had set their hearts over much upon him.

This puts me in mind of another child very strangely drowned a little before winter. The parents were also members of the church of Boston. The father had undertaken to maintain the mill-dam, and being at work upon it, (with some help he had hired,) in the afternoon of the last day of the week, night came upon them before they had finished what they intended, and his conscience began to put him in mind of the Lord's day, and he was troubled, yet went on and wrought an hour within night. The next day, after evening exercise, and after they had supped, the mother put two children to bed in the room where themselves did lie, and they went out to visit a neighbor. When they returned, they continued about an hour in the room, and missed not the child, but then the mother going to the bed, and not finding her youngest child, (a daughter about five years of age,) after much search she found it drowned in a well in her cellar; which was very observable, as by a special hand of God, that the child should go out of that room into another in the dark, and then fall down at a trap door, or go down the stairs, and so into the well in the farther end of the cellar, the top of the well and the water being even with the ground. But the father, freely in the open congregation, did acknowledge it the righteous hand of God for his profaning his holy day against the checks of his own conscience.

RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES

[From Winthrop's "Christian Experience," written on his forty-ninth birthday]

About 18 years of age, (being a man in stature, & understanding as my parents conceived me) I married into a family under Mr. Culverwell his ministry in Essex; & living there sometimes I first found the ministry of the Word to come home to my heart with power, (for in all before I found only light) & after that I found the like in the ministry of many others. So as there began to be some change which I perceived in myself, & others took notice of. Now I began to come under strong exercises of conscience, (yet by fits only). I could no longer dally with religion. God put my soule to sad tasks sometimes, which yet the flesh would shake off, & outwear still. I had withal many sweet invitations, which I would willingly have entertained, but the flesh would not give up her interest. The merciful Lord would not thus bee answered, but notwithstanding all my stubbornnesse & unkind rejections of mercy, hee left me not till he had overcome my heart to give up itself to him, & to bid farewell to all the world, & until my heart could answer, "Lord! what wilt thou have mee doe?"

Now came I to some peace & comfort in God & in his wayes, my chief delight was therein. I loved a Christian & the very ground hee went upon. I honoured a faythful minister in my heart & could have kissed his feet: Now I grew full of zeal (which outranne my knowledge & carried mee sometimes beyond my calling), & very liberall to any good work. I had an unsatiable thirst after the word of God & could not misse a good sermon, though many miles off, especially of such as did search deep into the conscience. I had also a great striving in my heart to draw others to God. It pitied my heart to see men so little to regard their soules, & to despise that happiness which I knew to be better than all the world besides, which stirred mee up to take any opportunity to draw men to God, & by successe in my endeavours I took much encouragement hereunto. But these affections were not constant, but very unsettled. By these occasions I grew to bee of some note for religion (which did not a little puff mee up) & divers would come to mee for advice in cases of conscience;

& if I heard of any that were in trouble of mind I usually went to comfort them; so that upon the bent of my spirit this way & the success I found of my endeavours, I gave up myself to the study of Divinity, & intended to enter into the ministry, if my friends had not diverted me.

But as I grew into employment & credit thereby; so I grew also in pride of my guifts, & under temptations which sett mee on work to look to my evidence more narrowly than I had done before (for the great change which God had wrought in mee, & the generall approbation of good ministers & other Christians, kept me from making any great question of my good estate,) though my secret corruptions, & some tremblings of heart (which was greatest when I was among the most godly persons) put me to some plunges; but especially when I perceived a great decay in my zeal & love, &c. And hearing sometimes of better assurance by the seale of the Spirit, which I also knew by the word of God, but could not, nor durst say that ever I had it; & finding by reading of Mr. Perkin's & other books, that a reprobate might (in appearance) attaine to as much as I had done; finding withal much hollowness & vaine glory in my heart, I began to grow very sad, & knew not what to do: I was ashamed to open my case to any minister that knew mee; I feared it would shame myself & religion also, that such an eminent professor as I was accounted, should discover such corruptions as I found in myself; & had in all this time attained no better evidence of salvation; & [if] I should prove a hypocrite, it was too late to begin anew: I should never repent in truth; having repented so oft as I had done. It was like Hell to mee to think of that in Hebr. 6. Yet I should sometimes propound questions afarre off to such of the most godly ministers as I mett, which gave mee ease for the present, but my heart could not find where to rest; but I grew very sad & melancholy; & now to hear others applaud mee, was a dart through my liver; for still I feared I was not sound at the root, and sometimes I had thoughts of breaking from my profession, & proclaim myself an hypocrite. But these troubles came not all at once but by fits, for sometimes I should find refreshing in prayer, & sometimes in the love that I had had to the Saints: which though it were but poor comfort (for I durst not say before the Lord that