A call to the unconverted, to turn and live

All this, and more than this, have been told, and told again, even till you were weary of hearing it, and till you •ould make the lighter of it, because you have to often heard it, like the smith's dog, that is brought by custom to sleep under the noise of the hammers, and when the sparks do fly about his ears: and though all this have not converted you, yet you are alive, and might have mercy to this day, if you had but hearts to entertain it. And now, let reason itself be the judge, whether it belong of God or you, if after all this, you will be unconverted and be damned? If you die now, it is because you will die. What should be said more to you, or what course should be taken that is likelier to prevail? Are you able to say, and make it good, We would fain have been converted, and become new creatures, but we could not; we would have fain forsaken our sins, but we could not; we would changed our company, and our thoughts, and our discourse, but we could not.

Why, could you not if you would? What hindered you but the wickedness of your hearts? ⟨p. 102⟩Who forced you to sin, or who did hold you back from your duty? Had you not the same teaching, and time, and liberty to be godly, as your godly neighbours had? Why then could not you have been godly, as well as they? Were the church doors shut against you, or did not you keep away yourselves, or sit and sleep, or hear as if you did not hear? Did God put in any exceptions against you in his word, when he invited sinners to return; and he promised mercy to those that do return? Did he say, I will pardon all that repent except thee? Did he shut thee out from the liberty of his holy worship? Did he forbid you to pray to him any more than others? You know he did not. God did not drive you away from him, but you forsook him, and run away yourselves, and when he called you to him, you would not come. If God had excepted you out of the general promise and offer of mercy, or had said to you, "stand off, I will have nothing to do with such as you; pray not to me, for I will not hear you; if you repent never so much, and cry for mercy so much, I will not regard you." If God had left you nothing to trust to but desperation, then you had had a fair excuse, you might have said, "to what end do I repent and turn, when I will do no good?" But this was not your case, you might have had Christ to be your Lord and Saviour; your head and husband, as well as others, and you "would not," because you felt yourselves not sick enough for the physician, and because you could not spare your disease, in your hearts you said as those rebels,