Precious faith considered in its nature, working, and growth

Will he not glorify us to all eternity above, and shall we not glorify him in our little span of time here below? Whilst Faith is thus musing, the fire of Zeal must needs kindle in our Hearts.

Will he not glorifie us to all eternity above, and shall we not glorifie him in our little span of time here below? Whilest Faith is thus musing, the fire of Zeal must needs kindle in our Hearts.

Another Grace actuated by Faith is Meekness; which is as cool in our own cause as Zeal is hot in Gods. This is the great Moderatrix of Anger, that it breaks not out Preter squum & bonum, not unjustly for a light occasion; as that Pope's did, who raged upon the missing a cold Peacock; and blasphemously added If God was so angry for an Apple, he might justly be so for a Peacock: Nor upon a just cause excessively; as it did in that great Conqueror Stephen King of Poland, who was so angry with the Rigenses about the Gregorian Calendar. ⟨p. 311⟩that he sell into Epileptical sus and died. Natural Meekness is a beautiful thing, and so is Moral, but neither is a Grace: Natural being but the result of a sweet temper of Body, and Moral but the improvement of Reason; neither levels so high as Gods Glory. In Natural we do but comply with our Temperament, and in Moral but sacrifice to our Reason: But the Grace of Meekness is a portion of that Dove-like Spirit which rested upon Christ, and aims at his Glory whose Goodness is resembled thereby. Hence it is observable, that where the Meekness is only Natural or Moral, Men will be angerless and sinfully meek even when Gods Glory lies at the Stake, their Meekness being as opposite to holy Zeal, as to rash Anger; but where the Grace of Meekness is, Men in their own concerns glorify God by a cool converse, and in Gods call for Zeal to vindicate his Glory. To promote this Grace Faith doth many things; as first, it looks at the infinite Long-sufferance of God; O what doth he bear from Men! His Laws are violated, Blessings abused, Name blasphemed, Glory stained, and all by his own Creatures, and in his own World, and day after day, year after year, nay, one age after another, and yet the axle-tree of his Patience breaks not under it;