ment which perpetuates it is then celebrated? Was not Christ slain once for all in himself? and yet sacramentally he is slain for the people during all the paschal solemnities-ay, and every day. Nor is there any falsehood in saying that he is slain; for if sacraments had no resemblance to those things which they typify, there would be no sacraments at all; and it is from this resemblance that they take the names of the things themselves. As, therefore, after a certain mode, the sacrament of the body of Christ is the body of Christ, and the sacrament of the blood of Christ the blood of Christ, so is the sacrament of faith faith itself. But to believe is nothing more than to have faith; so that, when an answer is made for the infant, that he believes, when as yet faith is an affection it does not possess, this answer means, that he has faith by the sacrament of faith, and is converted unto God by the sacrament of conversion, because the answer itself is a part of the celebration of the sacrament. As the apostle says of baptism, "we are buried with Christ by baptism unto death:" he does not say, 66 we signify our burial," but " we are buried," calling the sacrament of so great a thing by no other than the name of the thing itself.

10. In the same way, though not yet that faith which consists in the will of believers, yet the sacrament of faith itself, makes the infant faithful. For as an answer is made for him, that he believes, so he is called faithful; not by any mental assent to the thing, but by the reception of the sacrament of it. But when a man begins to have understanding of his own, he will not seek to have the sacrament repeated, but will understand it, and conform himself by a consenting will to the truth which it expresses. While he is yet unable to do this, the sacrament will be his defence against all the power of the enemy; and if he departs this life before he arrives at the use of reason,

then, by means of the sacrament itself, commended to it by the love of the Church, he will assuredly be delivered, by the aid of Christ, from that condemnation which by one man entered into the world. He who does not believe this, or thinks it impossible, has indeed no faith, although he has its sacrament; and far better off is that little one, who, if he has no faith in his thoughts, yet has no thought in opposition to it, and so receives that sacrament to his own salvation. I have answered your questions not sufficiently, I dare say, for those who can hold little and are contentious; but for the intelligent and peaceable, perhaps more than sufficiently. Nor have I pleaded long-established custom for an excuse, but have accounted for a most wholesome custom by the best reasons I could find.

28. Dr. Thomas Sharp to a Lady afflicted with Religious Melancholy.

Durham, March 15, 1742. MADAM,-The honour of your ladyship's letter has quite satisfied me in what I was something doubtful before concerning your case. What satisfies me that I do really understand it are these three things, chiefly, which you have told me. The first is, that nobody you have spoken with yet will believe you; the next is, your desiring me, for God's sake, to believe the worst, and to tell the worst; the last is, your asking what will become of you, if you die in this situation?

Now, madam, though I do believe every word you have written, as to what you feel within yourself, yet I plainly perceive I must have no credit with you, unless I make all the same conclusions from it that you do, viz. that you are one of the

most wicked creatures alive; that your heart does certainly consent to the worst; and that this will surely condemn you to eternal punishment.

come.

Could I say this of you, I perceive you would applaud my judgment, and think I spoke the right and true thing of you. Therefore, when you ask my sincere opinion, I must necessarily give it you honestly and sincerely, not under disguise; and my sincere opinion, in one word, is this, that notwithstanding all your frights and fears, you are absolutely safe as to your interest in the love and favour of God, both in this world and in that which is to I suppose you will not allow me to judge right in this. I told you beforehand I could not expect it of you, if your case was really religious melancholy, as I am sure it is. Nor is it to any purpose for me to argue the point with you; for you will disappoint all I can say, by taking for granted I do not hit your case, or understand your disorder. Yet, as my honoured father had been himself far gone in this distemper, and was upon that account more than ordinarily useful in giving advice to those who consulted him in the like case, I thought perhaps you would give a little attention to his counsel: and as I have a letter of his written to a lady who seems to have been exactly in your ladyship's case with regard to blasphemous thoughts, &c., I have thought proper to transcribe it for your use, as being much better than I could pretend to draw up myself, since it exhibits the sentiments of one who was esteemed among the ablest divines in his time; and, what is more, one who had laboured under this very malady, and had recovered at last happily and totally from it. Let me beg of your ladyship to read his letter, enclosed herewith, often and often over; and to attend to the four questions he puts to be answered, and to answer them your

self. And if your answers come out as he represents, with affirmation or negation, yes or no, then to mark what he says upon it, and judge yourself by this rule and no other.

May God give a blessing to it! If I had all the kingdom to give you, I could not make you so valuable a present, in my own opinion, as this letter is. And if it have a good effect, it will give the greatest joy and pleasure to

Your most obedient and faithful servant,

THOMAS SHARP.

29. Dr. John Sharp, Archbishop of York, to Lady Wild, on Blasphemous Thoughts, and other effects of Hypochondriac Melancholy.

MADAM,—I am very sorry to hear from Lady S. that your ill state of health continues; for, by your ladyship's leave, I cannot express your affliction by any other name, notwithstanding the suspicions you have that I judge too favourably in your case, and that I am not sufficiently informed how bad the frame of your mind is.

Madam, as long as I hear that you live well, and as to your words and actions behave yourself as you ought, and are guilty of no practice inconsistent with the Christian religion, so long I dare positively say that your thoughts (you call them thoughts, but I call them weaknesses, dreams, or illusions), be they never so bad, never so irregular, nay—with reference to your own case I speak it—never so blasphemous or infamous, will do you no harm in the world, as to dispossessing you of the favour of God, or a title to His mercy and reward in the other world.

I am sufficiently sensible, that this state of yours is the most miserable, uneasy state that any good

body in this world can perhaps fall into. I speak experience. But the longer I live, the more I see it verified, that thus it pleaseth God to exercise many excellent persons. If you were the only person I

found in this condition, I durst not be so confident in what I have all along declared. But meeting most frequently with persons as innocent, as pious, as virtuous, as I believe any are, that are in the circumstance with your ladyship, and complain as heavily, and just in the same manner as you do, I must have no sense nor reason, should I make any other judgment of all your cases than I have done.

Can it enter into the heart of any Christian, who is taught by his religion that God is infinitely kind and good,infinitely more kind and benign than we can imagine, -nay, that he hath greater love and tenderness for us than we have for ourselves;-I say, can it enter into any one's mind that such a kind and loving Being will ever call us to account for those things that are perfectly involuntary in us, and which he knows we perfectly hate?

But I know you will say, you are now gone beyond bare thinking, and are come to wishing and desiring these execrable things that you formerly but thought of; you now give your consent to them. This you say.

But, madam, you do certainly deceive yourself. For let me ask you these four questions, and do you seriously answer them for yourself :

1. Do you ever make one step, either by word or action, towards the bringing to pass these dreadful things?

2. If it was in your power to bring these things to pass, whether you would make use of it to effect them? or rather,

3. Whether you would not do all that you could to hinder them from being effected? and lastly,

4. Whether you do not abhor those thoughts, or