The Morning exercise [at] Cri[ppleg]ate, or, Several cases of conscience practically resolved

Object. Oh! but now come? This would be only self and slavish fear; my necessity compels me now; I can make no other shift: There is no ingenuity in such a faith as I am like to put forth in this my extremity.

Sol. Thou must yet be willing, &c. and all is well. The occasion of believing always extremity and necessity, for none ever came to Christ as long as ⟨p. 379⟩they could make any shift without him, but the cause if thou comest is the mighty power of God to make thee unfeignedly willing upon all the terms; & thou art no less acceptable to God because thou art constrained by Grace upon the pinch of thy necessity to come, Rom. 11.32. Hos. 5. ult. God puts thee to this pinch that he might hear of thee; in that latter place it is as if God had said, Well, I have called again & again, and used variety of means with this people, but all in vain; I will take another course I will leave them, go to my place, hide my self, that trouble, and horror, and anguish shall take hold on them, and what then? Shall it be unseasonable and too l•te to come? No, then they will and shall seek me early; see how welcome a sinner is in this case to Christ. The Prodigal, he runs his course, spends all in riot and luxury, and was reduced to utter extremity, and then he bethinks himself of coming home. I will go, there be many mansions in my Fathers house, and I perish for want of bread; being upon this knowledge of his Fathers fullness drawn,¹ and upon sense of his own lostness, driven he comes; And what salutation do you think his Father might give him? What are you come indeed? In good time? You, that have all this while taken your swing in all wickedness, as long as you could live; my house was not good enough for you; and now, that you have laid me under the reproach of your lewdness, and fulfilling your lusts as long as you had a penny in your purse, or a rag to your back: Do you now come to me? There is no duty or affection to me that sways you hither, but you are compelled by the extremity you have brought your self to: Get you gone with a sorrow, and never look me in the face more. Thus we would have thought, but it is quite otherwise, his Father, when he did but say he would come, meets him afar off, falls on his neck, kisses him, brings him home, provides the best Room, the best Robe, the best Kid, all the best, and there is great joy; His Father do h not question what draws, or what drives; whether he comes out of compelling necessity, or out of ingenuity and dutiful affection; But he is come, that is enough. This my son was dead, and is alive, was lost, and is found;