SECT. I.
Of the Dignity of the Intellect of Man, and whether it be limited in aspiring to Know­ledge.

THE hair of the Nazareans, after their Con­secration, was accepted upon the Altar;Num. 6▪ and, being burnt as a Sacrifice, afforded a sweet smelling savour: So what, of it self was of an offensive, by Vow became of a pleasing Odour. The hair in this case, sig­nified all the Powers and Faculties of the Brain, which [...]ook their savour of acceptance, from their dedication, more then from their intrinsick Dignity. I there­fore Religiously profess my entring the Temple of these sacred Mysteries, as a devoted Nazarean, not a curious Gentile; I [Page 2] come to satisfie my Vow, not mine or others curiosity in spe­culating the D [...]vine Providence; and I hope there will be no savour of Wine or strong Drink found in my Reflections, no fumes of Lightnes [...] or Presumption appear in this Disquisition: And, not being conscious of having tasted any forbidden Li­quor in this time of consecrating my Thoughts, I may soberly expect that these Conceptions (which were Devoted as they grew in my Head) may be accepted now they are cut off, and thus Offered up under the notion of a Vow; which manner of kindling and incensing them, may give my Speculations some good Odour, that is not connaturall to their matter (as pro­ductions of my Brain) but acquired by this condition, Be­cause the consecration of his God was upon his Head. Numb. 6.7.

Nothing can be utter'd in exaltation of the Intellect of Man, that doth not conjointly tend to the magnifying of God: and, as our Understanding can conceive no adequate Idea of his Being, so can it form no equall representation of it self, except this, of being the Image of God. The express copy of the Creator is drawn no lower in his Creatures then the intellectuall portion of Man; and by that part only wherein he resembles God, he is enabled to apprehend him. As, if we will suppose a Picture, animated and looking upon the Originall figure, we may conceive the Copy discerning presently, by her own Fea­tures, from whence they were derived, and judging of her own Similitude to that pattern: in some report to this, our Understanding, when it speculates the Divine Intellect, may be said to apprehend, to a degree, the nature and derivation of this intelligent power which it exercises; and judges by the ampli­tude of this Faculty, the resemblance it bears to that infinite intelligence which it apprehends as the Originall. Whence it follows, that by the same degrees, our Understandings are extended, their similitude to God is the more form'd and per­fected; whereupon we may conclude, That a proficiency in Knowledge is the most Naturall, as well as the most Noble appetite of Man.

And, we may resolve of Gods special intending our continual [Page 3] exercise and advance of this capacity of knowing, by his having indued this faculty, with the priviledg of not suffering at al from any subject it acts upon, of what hardness or asperity soever; for the understanding feels no such repassion as the senses do, from the matters they work on. No wonder then, if this power­full agent be so much affected with the exercise of it self, since in an instant it can abstract immaterial species from all materi­al substances; nay, it can break them all even into atomes, and yet it self remains so far from suffering, that it is fortified and augmented by that act. And those universal notions which so much transcend all matter existent, doth it not admit and lodg them, so little constrain'd, that it is, indeed, rather inlarg'd then burthen'd by all these receptions? for every new notion con­firms those it possess'd before; besides, from the second notions, the Soul infers a third, and from them farther collections, still thus increasing in capacity, as it fills it self.

And, if we observe it, we shall finde the thing understood, become the same with our Understanding, by the act of our full comprehending it. In the Originall Divine Intellect, there is this transcendent singularity, The having it self for the intel­ligible species; whence it is, that, in God, the Understanding and the Thing understood are the same, Gods own Essence being both the Act and the Object of his intelligence: which must needs follow by reason that this Essence is both an infinit Intelligence and Intelligibility, so that, there can be nothing Intelligible, that is not contain'd, either formally or virtual­ly, in it self; wherefore God can understand nothing, that is not, in some manner, himself. And, notwithstanding this co­pied faculty in human nature be, indeed, infinitly distant, from this perfection; (for most of the species it conceives, are extrin­fical and adventitious, being drawn and abstracted from mat­ters existing without it self:) yet may we find some glance of resemblance to the Divine, in the term of Mans understanding, though none in the infinity of the act; since the species, he con­ceives, pass into a kind of identity with his understanding: from whence you see, there seems to result some affinity, between [Page 4] this Copy of Mans intelligence (wrought and finish'd by dis­course) and Gods, which is perfect in one pure act of compre­hending all things existing in it self, whereby we perceive, what riches this noble Faculty acquires, by all her communications. No marvail then, if our minde be naturally so intentive upon this traffick, for self improvement by new comprehensions, considering withall, that it can never be satiated with any acquisition; since, over and above all other mentioned excel­lencies, our Understanding hath a possible infinity; for, it can apprehend successively new species, as they are offered perpe­tually, without any end or limitation; and this seems a kind of shadow of the actual infinity existing in the divine Intellect, which apprehends, infinitely, by one single act. How admi­rably, then, this faculty of Man is disposed for activity, and how strongly invited to the pursuit of knowledge, is suffi­ciently evinced; whereupon we may well determine with the wisest of men, in honor of it, that wisdom is preferrable before riches;Eccles. 7.12. for, The excellence of knowledg, is, that it gives life to them that have it.

Upon this manifest of the excellency of this faculty, it may well be asked, Whether our actual search of knowledg be not illimited, in regard of the subject, as well as the power of apprehending is infinite, in respect of our conceiving perpetu­ally new notions? and consequently; Whether we may not successively strain our inquiries higher and higher upwards, to­wards the Essence of God and his other mysteries, with his Councels and Decrees; seeking also satisfactory reason for all the moral order and administration of the Universe? Reason it self, without consulting faith, is able to resolve part of this que­stion; for, admitting our faculty of reasoning and discourse to be a pure voluntary gift from a superior essence, there is an infi­nite disparity, between this derived and that independent power, consequent to this state of derivation: For, should the parta­king power be sufficient to comprehend fully the principall, it would seem no longer a participant, but become an adequate Intelligence; whereas, the most elevated strains of humane [Page 5] Reason, never presumed to reach the compleat Being of God. We may observe,Diago­ras and Proto­goras. that there have been found some few Rationa­lists, who have dared to implead and deny all Deity; but never any that adventured adequatly to define the Divine Na­ture: So that it seems less repugnant to reason, to renounce all relation to God, then to restrain him within the circumference of mans conception. In order to this, a Jew is reported anci­ently to have made a good reply to a Gentile, asking him the name of his God; he answered, That where many Gods were acknowledged, there names were requisite to distinguish, and words competent to express them; but, where one single Deity was confest, there needed no denomination for differencing it from others: nor could there be any conception adjusted to such a Being; wherefore his God was more above the comprehensi­on, then the Gentiles thought their gods above the Corpo­riety of man.

Whereupon St. Augustine resolves excellently, that, after our subtilest penetration into the nature of God, whoever con­cludes he has conceiv'd a perfect similitude of God, is in that act of acquiescence more distant from his mark, then he was in the first point of his inquisitive motion. This sublime and glorious power of the soul (which findes no difficulty to ele­vate all inferior subjects to her own station) when she attempts the raising her self to the comprehension of her Original, per­ceives her own impotency: and whereas, acting upon mate­rial Substances, she findes a kinde of Almightiness in her self; when she is applyed to pure spiritual natures, she discerns her in­ability to treat with them simply as they are in themselves; be­ing fain to retire back to some materiality, and extract thence some compound species wherewith to entertain her self, concerning these simple existencies. Insomuch that while our understanding aims even lower then the Divine Essence, it per­ceives a restraint & defectiveness in it self, as not being a compe­tent power to converse with any incorporeal substances, with­out resorting to the help of Images, drawn from corporeal; but, when it aspires towards the negotiating with the Original [Page 6] simple Unity, it findes the direct nullity of it self, whereto it seems return'd, when it looks towards that imcomprehensible Being. For even the soul of Christ did not comprehend the Divine Word whereto it was united; how much less can our mindes expect it, which are so infinitely distant from it? where­fore this proud faculty, feeling it self so much humbled and confounded in this application, is not forward in this aspiring; and consequently, needs little animadversion to divert it, in this particular of the Divine Essence, from transgressing the bounds of a contented nescience: which state of minde, the great St. Denis, after all his Contemplations in this kinde, adviseth us, saying, Ignorance becomes a Vertue, referr'd to him whose Being transcends all which falls within our knowledge.

And, as we do not finde the Children of Israel, in all their perversity, to have been forward in making excursions beyond the bounders of Mount Sinai, to discover the properties of the flame & smoke, wherein they apprehended the Majesty of God; but rather apt to conclude Moses himself consum'd by his ap­proach; and readily inclin'd to question Gods providence, disiring a more sensible and familiar object, though but a Calf, for their God and Conductor. In like maner we meet few apt to offend, by an affected transcendence in speculation, concerning the Nature of the De ty: but how many forward and prone to confound and perplex themselves in point of the Divine or­der and designment; and very subject (upon all extraordinary occurrences) to question the regularity of providence, and set up their own Reasonings and Divinations (though cast into no better a form then the Idol of Israel) for their satisf [...]ction and conduct through the Moral Desart of Temporal events? It wil therefore be most useful to apply our pre-cautions to this so obnoxious humor: Leaving the other rarer intemperancy, only such an advice as the Angel gave to Manaah, when he of­fered to treat him with earthly food:Jud. 13. Offer up all your specu­lations in sacrifice, not in search of his name, who is wonderful: for, all humane conceptions are as disproportionate to Gods Being, as a Kid is to the entertainment of an angel.

SECT. II.
What search into religious Mysteries is al­low'd.

HAving seated Gods Essence in unaccessible Light, which humane understanding is not forward to presse into; the two greater questions remain: First, how far our reason may presume to advance into his outward offices (as I may call) his religious mysteries which are our passages towards his presence? For answer to this, we must cast back our specu­lation as far as to the first humane reason, wherein all succeed­ing was comprised; which after God had breath'd out of his own breast, he plac'd so near him as though it was not in his sight, yet was it (as I may say) within hearing: for, we find God began presently to speak to man, and to put his reason to such an exercise as imported the knowledge and compre­hension of the special properties of many of Gods material works. Again we may imagine that the delight of this admi­rable facultie did contribute to his yeilding to the following temptation of enlarging this power of his understanding be­yond the limits prefixed; and this inordinate curiositie remo­ved his reason so far backward, as in stead of affecting an ad­vince towards God, he quickly fought to flie from him, and cover himself under the shadow of leaves; so much had he lost of his knowledge by the taste of the fruit, that even the leaves were enough to abuse him, as seems by his supposing them able to conceal him. For thus, the understanding of man, which we find at first familiarly conversing with God, soon after we hear so far distanced, that it seems as it were out of hearing of Gods conversing voice, wherein aloud he calls, Adam where art thou? so strange a retrogradation do we find in humane reason by the attempt of this irregular progression.

The Reason of man being by this overstraining, faln from light to darkness, had consequently drawn his affections into a deceitful blindness; insomuch that man would have conti­nued loving darkness better then light, and have offered up all the remainder of his understanding to his deceiver the Prince of darkness, in a religion which indeed must have been blind­ness, whose present reference and future center were both darkness and the shadow of death. Into this state of ignorance and excecation was humane Reason deflected, when God was pleased to design such a means of reparation, as even the most enlightned created spirit could not have excogitated; which was the wisdom of God, taking upon him the weakness and infirmitie of man: and the increated unerrable Understanding shadowing it self under the similitude of humane ignorance and privation. This incomprehensible mysterie is the source and object of Christian Religion, and God hath ordained all our addresses to him to be transmitted, through the medium of this mysterie; as is testified by this our incarnate God, affirming of himself,Joh. 14.6. No body cometh unto the Father but by me. Thus did God by the same act commiserate and confound humane na­ture, oblieging mans understanding to rest in the belief of this inconceiveable object, which so much disdains the approach of his reason to it: and thus by the exercise of faith God hath both redeemed and captivated the intellect of man,2 Cor. 10.5. Rom. 11 33. bringing into captivitie all understanding unto the obedience of Christ.

O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! The Divine knowledge abases it self to satisfie for his Creatures curiosity; and, by this act, forms a Being, incom­prehensible by humane Reason; which he ordains to be the Essence of our Religion, and that the subjection of our Faith, in point of this mystery, should retract the intrusion of our Reason into her first forbidden light. And surely▪ man has no ill bargain on't, to endure this present confusion of his un­derstanding, for its redemption out of eternal darkness; how­ever, can it be expected, the knowledg of Man should be left free to aspire, where the increated wisdom is said to suffer a de­privement [Page 9] and exinanition? Thus, then, the contrary to what is said of the Divine Essence, may be properly affirmed of the Essence of Christianity; the wisdom of God incar­nate, viz. that the Scrutator of this mystery shall be opprest by the ingloriousness of the object. And, from this root of Christianity, which lies cover'd in Heaven, the body of that tree of life it bears (Christian Religion) grows likewise, in­volved in unexplicable mysteries: Blood and Water (being drawn out of a dead body, and cast upon dead creatures) in the form of simple water, doth not onely the office of water, to cleanse them; but returns into blood, and enlivens the ina­nimate state it is apply'd to, and incorporates those parts it touches, into that body from whence it issued: how uncon­ceivable are these mysteries?

Nor is the entry or porch only of our Temple thus obscure to the eye of Reason; For the Quier and the Altar are over-cast with such mysterious Clouds, as no humane apprehension can penetrate. Here the Sacrifice offer'd is no less then the Deity which is worshipped by the Oblation; and our God is not only present among us, but even enters into us, in a manner wherein our senses contradict the possibility of his presence; insomuch, that what St. John saith of the Temple, in his vision, suites well with the state of the whole Christian Church, It is fill'd with smoke from the glory of God, Rev. 15 8. and from his power, and none is able to enter into it. Wherfore the prime mysteries of Christian Religion seem to have the same advice annex'd to them which the seven thunders had that the Apostle heard, namely, to seal up, and not to write what they uttered: so these obscure verities (the belief whereof is infused by an ex­terior power, not inferr'd by the action of our discourse) are to be closed up and kept seal'd as a mass of treasure in our faith, not to be melted down, and tested by our reason. For indeed our understanding is so unable to work upon this subject, that it suffers wholly from it, without any gaining upon it; and cannot converse safely with this matter, but by yeilding and submitting intirely to it: and on the other part, it hath such a [Page 10] correspondence with our Faith, as that's improved by this conversation: for faith enlargeth it self, by imbracing this un­intelligible Subject. We may therefore easily resolve that the mysteries of our Religion were not designed for objects of humane knowledge, since the intellect profits by all negotia­tion within her connatural Province; whereas commercing with these unconceiveable notions, the more she adventures, the sooner she dissipates her stock and breaks, rather then makes a profitable return. Wherefore the Spirit of God hath set this signature upon Christian mysteries, (that none might attempt the breaking them open;Cant. 4.12.) A Garden enclos'd is my sister, my spouse, a Spring shut up, a Fountain seal'd.

Not that our reason is forbidden all access into this Garden, or denyed some taste of the waters that flow from this seal'd Fountain; for our discourse is allow'd to walk and exercise it self in the knots and borders, to feed upon the Lillies, and to run after the odour of the flowers; so long as it attempts not the breaking of the ground to discover the roots of these Plants, or affects not to look into the Spring-head of those sweet cur­rent mysteries, which water and refresh our speculations. And this method the Christian School observes in all her progresses and perambulations through the mysteries of the Church; she labours to elucidate and clear to our apprehensions by some intelligible notions, all the articles of our faith, but undertakes not to [...]ender them demonstratively objects of our science and full comprehension, by virtue of ratiocination and discourse. Conformable whereunto her Schollers (recreating their spirits in this enclosed Garden) meddle not with the roots, by strain­ing to form any adequate conception of Gods Essence, or any other concealed points of faith; but go on gathering sweet odours from Gods attributes and his other exteriour exhibiti­ons of himself: by which way of discourse and disquisition of all Christian verities, the Schools both delight and delate hu­mane reason, without any intrusion into the forbidden inclo­sures of faith.

And, as the Spirit of God hath thought fit, to draw His spi­ritual [Page 11] Being under divers sensible figures, (sorted to the low­ness of our capacitie) whereby he design'd not a representa­tion competent to the Deitie, but consonant to our humanitie. In which manner even God the Father seems often incarnate by the voice of the Holy Ghost, while he overshadows his in­corporeal nature with the sensible forms of hands, eyes, feet,Gen. 18 and the like parts of humane corporietie; but this condescen­dence imports our being children in capacitie, not Gods being any way like man in his existence. As the holy Spirit descends, I say, in this sort to converse with our understanding; so God allows our spirits to elevate their speculations to what height we can, towards the apprehension of his pure spiritualitie, and to make the best mounts our reason can strain to, towards its satisfaction in the mysteries of our faith; and that not only in the sphere of considering the motives of their credibilitie, which are indeed the proper objects of our discourse: but ev'n in that higher, of contemplating humbly and resign'dly (though no ways trying by our reason) those profoundest Arcana them­selves: provided we expect not here a perfect comprehension, or a scientifical notice of them, any more then we conclude God justly describ'd by those lineaments and parts whereby the Scriptures figure him, or we believe him circumscrib'd within those three bodies wherein he appear'd to Abra­ham.

Thus while one foot of our compassing discourse rests upon the center of Gods incomprehensibleness, both in his Essence and communications, (emissions of himself;) the other may make as large circles of speculation as every particular capacitie can extend to; by which order our knowledge may draw useful and just lines whereby to build up love; not com­ing near those deceitful measures by which we form irregular curiositie; and for the structure of our knowledge, S. Austin gives this excellent square, Let us diligently and ingenuously in­quire what God allows us to know, and contentedly and ingenuously rest uninquisitive of what God will have us ignorant.

And in this manner of sealed acquiescence, our reason me­thinks, [Page 12] may be said to make a straiter and a higher mount then in any of her exploring flights: for by this submission it seems to transcend it self making us in those things that are above it, acknowledge and adore the divine Reason; when, like S. Pauls companions,Acts 9.8. we discern a dazling light and hear the voice, but see not the exteriour apparition of it in his sacred mysteries: here, then how gracious is our God, who (knowing the dis­proportion of our understanding towards an approach to him) hath plac'd the means of our access, in our affections? to which facultie of our mind he has imparted a power of advan­cing into his presence, ev [...]n in this time of the perigrination of our Intellect: for we can love all Gods essence, while we can understand but very little of it: the reason is, this difference between the heart and brain of man, viz. by the act of under­standing, we attract the objects into us, and so contract them to the model of our mind; whereas by that of loving, we effuse and pour forth our selves into the objects. Wherefore our narrowness is no impediment in this commerce of our love, by reason we do not receive and lodge them in us, but rather export and transmit our selves into them: so that Gods Being is restrained and contracted to the size of our capacitie, when we seek to lodge it in our understanding; but is not at all con­fin'd when our will is issued out upon it, by this self-trans­action.

Hereupon we may well form this conclusion, that in point of heavenly and spiritual objects, it avails us more to intend the loving, then the knowing them; and for earthly and ma­terial ones, the understanding rather then the affecting them. For since by love we are transform'd into the thing beloved; by our affections, if they fix upon mean and low objects, we must needs be level'd to their stations, and have our hearts ex­tenuated to their model; whereas by understanding matters never so much below us, we do not sink and depress our selves, but raise them up to our degree, and give the most abject things a noble and pure kind of existence in our minds. This rule may therefore justly assign to each of these faculties of our souls their proper and most congruous adaptations.

In order to this regulation, we may remember to what God thought fit to apply man [...] knowledge in the best vigour and in­tegritie of his Intellect;Gen. 2 19. God having formed out of the earth every beast of the field and fowl of the air, brought them to Adam to see what he would call them: God did not point his science higher then terrestrial matter; he addressed it not so high as ev'n the matter of the firmament, which was within his sight, he was ask'd nothing of the glorious substance of the stars; so far was it from being apply'd to any spiritual nature. And may we not fairly argue from hence, that God meant to appro­priate humane knowledge in this terrestrial passage, to that Element through which man was to travel, and that material and earthly things should be the subjects of his science; that is to say, whereof he should expect demonstrative reason and sa­tisfaction? Wherefore in this inferiour element mans inquisi­tiveness cannot be exorbitant; this is the part of the world which God hath most specially delivered to mans disputation. Eccles. 3.11. Let him then exercise his brain ev n unto sweat, upon subjects that fall within his orb of demonstration; but rest on the sta­tion of his faith in such celestial matters as his reason upon all her strains towards satisfaction cannot reach; and does but fall back again to the earth, not fix upon a comprehension. Let our understanding acquiesce in this direction of the holy Spirit, Seek not things higher then thy self. Eccles. 3.22, 24 In superfluous things search not many ways, and in many of his works thou shalt not be cu­rious.

The right understanding of this advice, I have already en­deavour'd to deliver you; namely, that we are not disswaded from all arguing and disquisition, ev'n of the most secret my­steries of faith, but only such as rise from the itch and tingling of curiositie, or from the tumour of presumption; when we (as I may say) only scratch some heat risen in our fancie; or when our mind (being swel'd with some infusion of knowledg) breaks out into a presumption of possessing an entire and ade­quate reason of supernatural verities. Methinks the due man­ner of handling such spiritual matters may be fitly argu'd from [Page 14] that of the Woman touching the person of Christ: We know the difference he made between his being crowded upon, and his being touch'd; for when a multitude of people press'd upon him, he ask'd a question his disciples wonder'd at; name­ly, who touch'd him? accounting her only to have done so, who did it with faith and reverence, and to her only was the vertue of his person issued. In like manner, those methinks, who over-boldly approach the divine mysteries by their arguments, may be accounted to intrude and press upon God,Luk 8. but not to touch him; since no vertue is derived to them by this their vici­nitie. And undoubtedly, they who draw as near as they can to the supernatural verities with their reason, following faith and humilitie, extract from this kind of touching them, both much vertue towards the cure of that flux of curiositie to which our nature is so liable; as likewise, much aliment for that charitie whereto it is so indispos'd.

For in our nature, knowledge precedes love in prioritie of time; since we can affect nothing whereof we have not some pre notion; and the clearer our apprehension is of the good, the more intense becomes our love: wherefore all rectified knowledge of God and his mysteries proportionably improves our charitie; as the holy Psalmist attests in this declaration, My fire kindleth in my meditation.

And surely devout and studious inquisition may be account­ed the natural oyl of the wise Virgins lamps, which feeds and nourishes the supernatural flame of love, as the combustible materials which Elias had provided, entertain'd the flame that came down from heaven:Reg. 3.18. so charitie (which is the divine guift) may be nourished and fomented by humane materials. And the purer this oyl of studie and ratiocination is, the brigh­ter slame of love it produces. Wherefore the holy Spirit ad­vises us by S. Peter, 2 Pet. 1.5. that (in order to our becoming partakers of the divine nature) We use all diligence to adde unto our faith vertue, and to vertue knowledge: from which direction we may infer, that as vertue is a procession from faith, so, knowledge is a promotion of vertue; and consequently, that christianitie, [Page 15] (the end whereof is the exaltation of vertue) requires the pro­secution of knowledge. We may therefore safely rest upon the decision of S. Bernard in this inquirie: Some there are who de­sire to learn, meerly that they may know more then others, and that is a subtile curiositie; others there are who affect knowing, only that they themselves may be known, and this is a windy vanitie; and there are divers that purchase knowledge to put it off again by sale, and this is a sordid prophanation of it: but there are some who pursue knowledge that they may edifie others, and this is pious charitie; and many desire to know, that they themselves may be edifi'd and enlightn'd, and this is a zealous prudence. Of all these the two last only are not guiltie of the abuse of knowledge, as coveting it in order to the advance of pietie and action. Wher­fore I may securely conclude with S. Paul in this same case, that when the first stories of wood and straw shall suffer loss, these superstructures of gold and silver upon this foundation, shall abide and receive reward.

SECT. III.
How far our inquisitiveness may pass into the reason of Gods civil Providence.

VVE are now come to the second question; out of the Church into the streets, (as I may say,) that is, into the common passage of providence, through all civil So­cieties; where our nature stands in need of a guide more then in the other spiritual obscurities, by reason these satisfactions respect more our present and sensible consolations; and appe­tites simply intellectual, are not incident to all capacities, but desire, referr'd to civil interests, are stirring in all apprehensi­ons. Hence it is that the discernment of light and order in [Page 16] our temporal relations and concernments, seems to the greatest part of the world the most important persuance; and conse­quently, they are more moved with the inquiry into the reasons of civill events, then, either of naturall productions, or religi­ous Constitutions. And surely, this intendment seems not improper; for, as, in the Church, the Congregation may better spare light, when they are assembled and seated, then in the streets, when they are busied and commercing; because, the action, in the one, is most mentall, and the being invisible to each other, indangers not much disorder; whereas, in the other, where the notions are corporeal and sensible, the want of light must needs cause all sort of offence and confusion: So when we are once seated in our Religion, a clear perception of all the parts and secrets of it is not so requisite, in regard that an acquiescence in that obscurity, is a safe posture; but, to the management and contrivance of our secular Affairs, there seems more use of a discernment of the causes and circumstances, which either promote or prejudice our ends. Wherefore our sollicitude in order to the comprehension of the reason of civil occurrences, seems not irregular; especially considering the great propension of our nature to such addresses, and the de­light she takes in these discoveries; it imports much the giving our curiositie a sober direction towards the striking fire and kindling light in these moral obscurities of Providence; since we m [...]y confess with the Psalmist, Clouds and darkness are round about it. Ps. 97.2.

The essential and interiour mysteries of the Deitie have a far different reason of their impenetrabilitie, from that of the exte­riour emissions of Gods providence; for those dazel us with the excess of their splendour, and these blind us by their dimnss and obscuritie: so what is most intelligible in it self, is least in relation to us; and what of it self has the least claritie in regard of us, has the most perspicuitie. This is verified of Gods essence, and his exteriour orders; of the first, God seems to ask Job by way of remonstrating to him the incapacitie of man,Jeb 38.19. De­clare, if thou knowest where is the way where light dwelleth: And [Page 17] to the second, the other part of his question seems referr'd; And as for darkness, Where is the place thereof? that thou canst bring every thing to its borders, and understand the paths of the house thereof. From whence we may derive an advertisement against presuming to pry after the reasons of Gods providence in his own tracks and paths, aspiring to give an exact account of the intent of all occurrences; which is, to seek the bringing every thing to his borders: but we are not serv'd with an inhi­bition in point of our inquirie and investigation of some con­gruous reason of all civil events and contingencies. For the holy Spirit gives us this warrant for a sober and reverent search into his secrets, It is the glory of God to conceal a thing, Prov. 25.2. but the honour of Kings is to search out a matter: whence we may infer, that mans intellect may remain subject to God, while it exer­cises this royal office of conferring and negotiating with his Privie Councels. And surely though this sort of divine Coun­cels exceeds mans full comprehension; yet in some degree it bends and accommodates it self to our capacitie: For I con­ceive there can be no divine Order propos'd, respecting the Universe, whereof some general reason may not be rendred; as there is none likewise, whereof al the reason can be exhibited: so invisible are the upper rings of the chains of Providence, and so conspicious are the lower links thereof. Thus then the di­vine Councels partake both these qualities of being communi­cable, as well as inscrutable: I mean the general reasons of Gods conduct fall within our apprehension, not the assignment of special causes to all particular events. As for instance, we cannot determine why good things befal this individual per­son, and evil that other; yet we have some light of the general causes, why crosses commonly fal upon the vertuous and happi­ness flows upon the wicked; viz. because the first are usually to be purg'd by sufferings, and the last to be punish'd by their se­curitie: but we cannot discern whether the one shall finally persevere in his goodness, and the other remain in his indura­tion; nor indeed can we resolve assuredly which of the two we see afflicted and prosperous, is the worthy or the undeser­ving [Page 18] partie.Eccles. 9.2 The searcher of hearts delivering us this truth, Man knows not whether he be worthy of love or hatred, but all things are reserved uncertain for the time to come, because all things do equally chance to the just and impious. So that in this obscurest part of providence we meet only some flashes of light that af­ford us a broken view of the divine Councels, whereof we must not expect a compleat manifestation.

Joh 9.We may consider that when the disciples (in the case of the man that was born blind) ask'd our Saviour, To whose sin they should ascribe this evil, to his own, or his parents? Christ did not disallow their judgment and attribution of this un­happiness to some demerit, nor reprehend their enquirie after the special cause; but by his answer he enlightned the inquirers in this point of the incertaintie of their own conclusions, by declaring the cause far different from their senses, thereby to inform both them and us, that as man is not prohibited to make his rational discourse upon Gods apparent judgments; so is he not warranted to fix peremptorie determinations of the special reasons of the divine Orders. And in conformitie to this, Tertullian gives us his opinion, Because God the former of all things, contrived, ordained, and disposed nothing but by reason; there is nothing that he doth not allow to be treated and discoursed by reason: Which must be understood of such subjects as are seated within the precincts of mans reason; for humane reason hath a sphere as well as sense, beyond which it canno [...] act: What is held of the pure Intelligences, the Angelical substances may serve to instruct us in the nature of our humane intellect: for as they are said not to be in any place, as bodies are, by way of being enclosed or circumscrib'd therein; but by way of being determin'd there, in such sort as they are not any where else, without their own sphere of activitie: (so that ubiquitie and immensitie is not attributed to them, though inclosure and circumscription is not proper to their natures, because it seems a kind of restraint and confinement, which is not sortable to spirits:) so may we say of humane reason, that it has a proper sphere, where it is so plac'd that it cannot exceed [Page 19] that term and latitude; nevertheless we cannot complain it is bound up or constrain'd by this determination. Whence it follows that the amplitude and infranchisement of humane reason cannot be said properly to be impair'd by these limits and regulations.

This information of Christ to his disciples (that,Act. 1.7. it was not for them to know the times and the moments which the Father hath put in his own power) cannot be accounted a restraint, but ra­ther a rectifying of their understanding. Let us therefore in particular occurrences which tempt our curiosities to assign a special cause to such effects, contain our discourse within the bounds of generals; for in the inquest of moral causes, the contrary of this rule, (which is well given in the search of na­tural) is to be observ'd: that is, to draw as near as we can to particulars. In the study of natural reasons, indeed the more we recede from particulars, the more we commonly depart from certainties; because the course of nature being invariable, ex­periments derived from particulars, afford most certaintie in conclusions: but the course of moral reasons to our eye, runing in no constant channel, the various effects of the same apparent causes, admit not of determin'd resolutions, to fix every singu­lar event upon the true special motive, because we cannot dis­cern whether the subject upon whom such events fall, be qua­lified according to the rule whereby we judge. For who can assure that this particular person, seeming vertuous, is really what he appears? and consequently, when he is oppress'd and afflicted, how can we conclude that he suffers for such in­tents, as (we may safely judge in general to be) those of Di­vine Providence, in permitting the present oppression of the innocent? Many like instances are obvious, wherein we may judge rightly of the general causes of such consequences, but very erroneously of the particular, pertaining to that single occasion; whereby I may securely opine, that the more we drive at singular reasons in this part of divine Providence, the farther we depart from certaintie in our deliberations. It is therefore to such undertakers the Prophet declares this disap­pointment [Page 20] on Gods part;Isa. 40.25. He makes the searchers of secrets, as if they were not, and the Judges of the earth as a vain thing.

Let us then upon this premis'd discourse, sum up these three resolutions: As to the first question, How far our reason may venture towards the smoaking Mountain of the Divine Essence, the Trinitie, and the Incarnation? The answer may fitly be taken from Gods order to Moses, Exod. 19.21. Charge your reason, lest it should attempt to break through the bounds to gaze upon these My­steries, and so perish. The method observ'd in heaven, by S. John, upon the opening of the seventh seal, may serve as a direction to us,Apoc. 8. in speculating these seal'd Mysteries, There was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour: which words are easily reconcil'd to those that declare in heaven,Apoc. 5 8. incessant acclama­tions of HOLY, HOLY, HOLY; if we but understand this silence to denote a profound admiration of that object, unexpressable by any exteriour sign or declaration. Where­fore if that state of Vision affords no more then silent admira­tion of these prime objects: can there be any question of our observing a more profound silencing our Reason, and licensing our Wonder in that conversation with these mysteries, to which our faith only gives us some obscure admission? Let us therefore determine our dutie in this point, by the example of the Apostles, even when they were eating with Christ after his resurrection,Joh. 29.12. None of them durst ask him who he was, knowing that it was the Lord: so let all our speculations when they are admitted to the most familiaritie with these Mysteries, be still afraid to inquire directly what they are, remembring that they are Gods own Inscrutabilitie.

And for the second, touching the license of our search into the reasons of lower religious mysteries; to the advice I have already exhibited, I shall subjoin this proposal; viz. to ob­serve this caution of the children of Israel, when they said to Moses, Speak thou unto us, and we will hear; but let not God speak to us, Exod. 20.19. lest we die: that is to say, Let our Reason treat with these matters, by the mediation and intercession of the Moses's appointed by Christ to deliver out his orders, and acquiesce in [Page 21] such satisfactions as they shall offer our Inquiries. And let not our private discourse affect an immediate communica­tion with the holy spirit, in order to a satisfactorie reason of these Divine Ordinances, or presume to resolve our belief by any rational argument, independent on the mediate authoritie of the Church: Let our ratiocination in these cases be restrain­ed by this voice of the Spouse, in the name of her Lord, What is this to thee? follow thou me. Joh. 21.22.

As to the third question, respecting our knowing the ade­quate causes of moral actions and events, we may annex this memorial, that the pressure of the disciples had no direct grant, when they urg'd Christ with, Lord shew us the Father. Joh. 14.8. This was a demand of a compleat illumination in all things at once; to which Christ gives us but obscure satisfaction, in reply­ing, He that sees me, sees the Father; for how the Father dwelt in him seems to have been their doubt, which he left still in a dark resolution. And surely the labouring to possess the direct and precise reason of all humane occurrences, is to affect an in­trusion into the presence of the Father of lights: No, we must be contented with the light of Universal Providence, wherein the Divine Wisdome remains cover'd, as God the Father did in his Son Christ Jesus; not to be discern'd particularly in all circumstances, by the eye of our reason, no more then the Deitie was in Christ, by that of sense. Thus then, as we are allow'd to make a grand Inquest upon the general causes of civil occur­rences; so are we not warranted to bring in our particular ver­dict, towards a positive sentencing the special motives of sin­gular acts of providence. Wherefore I may fitly address this sentence of the holy Spirit to the total of these questions, (which may justly temper all presumptions on the sufficiencie of humane capacitie) If any man think that he knows any thing, he knows nothing yet, as he ought to know.

SECT. I.
Of Divine Providence. In three Sections.

THE Word that had no beginning is God himself:Joh. 1. in, and by this Word were all things made. This is the word of Gods mind;Gen. 1.1 the first word of his hand is his claim to the creation of Heaven and Earth. A spiritual darkness had almost overspread the face of the whole earth; when the holy Ghost broke forth this light, in this first verbal irradiation upon that intellectual Chaos, whereunto the world seem'd to be return'd, by what we find in the Philosophers confused notions of the first cause and pro­duction of the Universe: some spirits resorting to fire, others to water,Eccles. 13. some scattering their imaginations ev'n as far as an innumerable mass of Atomes, to which they ascrib'd a casual compact of the earth. In these distracted conjectures were the minds of men roving, many admitting ev'n the materials to be the makers of this Universe, and divers conceiving it to transcend the state of having had a beginning, and concluding it eternal. Thus void and formless for the most part was the spiritual creation overcast with this darkness,Acts 14.16. God suffering, as S. Paul saith, all Nations to walk in their own ways: When [Page 23] over these waters of ignorance, the Spirit of God did move and cast forth this shining light.Gen. 1.1 In the beginning God made hea­ven and earth.

They who acknowledge this for the voice of their God, cannot misdoubt his capacitie of conducting all such things to their proper end, which they confess, form'd by the same power out of nothing; for reason cannot conceive so great a dispro­portion between the Agent and any Act, as is between Nullitie and Entitie. Wherefore, admitting such an essence as hath produc'd all subjects out of vacuitie and nothing; we cannot question the sufficiencie of that power, in order to the best end of his own beginnings. Hence they who are perplex'd in the attribution of all effects to the Divine Providence, do not for the most part contemptuously implead Gods power; but ra­ther with a seeming respectfulness, scruple the interesting his goodness in many irregular and unjust occurrences in the course of moral causes; and thus seem rather to make God a com­plement, then to intend a contumacie against his Providence. Such weak Spirits deal, methinks, with God as S. Peter did with Christ: when he acquainted him with the sufferings and indignities he was to undergo in Jerusalem; S. Peter answer'd with a respectful diffidence, saying, Lord far be it from thee, Mat: 16.22. this shall not be unto thee; covering the infirmitie of his faith with the tenderness and estimation of his Masters person: after this manner do such timorous suspensions, (which scruple the ascribing such orders to God, as they cannot adjust to their own measures of equitie; apprehending those disposures un­worthy of Gods contrivement,) shelter the feebleness of their understandings under a supposed firmness of their religious re­verence. These weak friends of God Almightie may well be answer'd, as Job did his mistaking comforters:Job 13.7.5. Doth God stand in need of your lye? I wish you would altogether hold your peace, and it should be your wisdom.

But in regard of our being advised to receive the weak in faith, but not unto doubtful disputations: Rom. 14.1. I shall apply my ca­pacitie to the removing from such ingenuous souls, some little [Page 24] stones of scandal, which lye in the way of pious passengers through the rode of Providence; and taking them from under their feet, where they might indanger them, I shall labour to put them into their hands; placing them in such spiritual slings wherewith they may encounter and overthrow all those arro­gant Philistims, who upbraid the Host of the living God, revi­ling the confessors of Divine Providence in all occurrences, as the most repugnant to their own discourse. And I confide, by the assistance of the same Providence, that my hands will be enabled to gather up these stones out of the High-way, and to arm others out of the very same matter of their own offence; by which means the seeming crooked ways of Providence shall be made straight, and the rough become smooth, for the feet of such little ones as ingenuously desire to make straight steps in the mazes of the Divine Administration of the Universe.

SECT. II.
Of the Introduction of evil into the world.

HAving apprehended God under this notion of an Omni­scient and Omnipotent goodness,Jam. 1.17. from whom every good and perfect gift descends, as from the father of lights, with whom there is no variableness or shadow of alteration: the great questi­on is, how we can admit the least shadow of evil among his pro­ductions, without some derogation from his perfection: since, as natural shadows are made by the resistance of some bodie, to the passage and transition of light: so the moral shadow of evil seems to result from the opposition of some thing, to the penetration and transfusion of the supream goodness; which capacitie of excluding it bears some colour of detraction from that vertuous omnipotence. What seems most strange at the [Page 25] first aspect towards the discussion of this difficultie, is, that while we seek to distance the spring of evil, the most we can from the divine essence, we must raise our speculation as near God as we can; to find the original defection from goodness, we must soar as high as ev'n the sublimest created nature; the first ex­terior mirror, wherein God by reflection saw his own simi­litude. For from this supream Angel and orb of light, was derived the first ecclipse and obscuration of it; insomuch, that we may say of the first spiritual creation, the contrarie to what is recorded of the material, viz. that this substance was full and in perfect form, and light was upon the face of it; and the spirit of Lucifer (moving upon the face of his own nature) said, Let there be darkness, and there was darkness: for the holy Spi­rit brings this charge against him:Ezek. 29.17. Thine heart was lifted up because of thy beauty, thou hast corrupted thy wisdome by reason of thy brightness. Thus was the first corruption of good (a term the most remote from God) deriv'd from a point the nearest himself of all his productions, namely, the supremest Angel.

Nevertheless, this consideration is so far from approaching God, towards any deficiencie of power or goodness; that rightly ponder'd, it removes his providence the most of any I can apprehend from any colour of question or redargution. For doth not the excellencie of this creature clear Gods intend­ing his perpetuitie in this perfection: since he was so fortifi'd by nature, as there was nothing left to vitiate him, but the over-valuation of his own excellencie? Had he seen any created ob­ject whose similitude he might have affected in respect of that precedencie; had his understanding been form'd but ev'n so incompleat, as to admit of so much as possible ignorance, whether his desires were competent to his degree: this might have been strain'd towards a charge upon the Divine Provi­dence in this creation. But when there was nothing extant in his nature for an object of emulation, and the only thing above his nature was a being uncapable of seducement, (there being no entrie left for an evil appetite, except the freedome of his own will to break the order of his excellencie, by an inor­dinate [Page 26] aspirement) what colour of impeachment is there left to lay upon the Providence that form'd this admirable Na­ture?

I will not enter into the disquisition of what sort of pride stain'd this primitive puritie; whether it were an excessive dile­ctation in his own natural beatitude as his last term, neglecting the supernatural glory whereunto he was to attain by grace: or whether he affected his advancement to that state by his own connatural abilitie. My speculation suggests to me this opi­nion, that it was a wish or a velleitie of such an independencie upon his Creator, as should render him as self-sufficient in his own nature, as he knew God to be in his essence: for though his knowledge could not admit the error of such a project as an equalitie with God; yet might it allow him the proposing a proportionate Independencie to that of the divine essence, such as lesser Soveraigns have in respect of greater Monarchs. But though our imaginations are left the libertie of assigning this fault to divers sorts of pride; yet our faith restrains us to the believing the investure of this creature in supereminent per­fections both of grace and nature; insomuch, as (could we suppose his Creator doubtful of any future contingencie) we might say, he could not suspect the prevarication of such a na­ture; of which the holy Spirit seems to ask this question in some kind of wonder:Isa. 14.12. How art thou faln from heaven (O Lucifer!) son of the morning? Does not then the consideration of Gods transcendent munificence to this creature, fully refute all scruple of his partaking in the introduction of evil into his creation?

Ezek. 28.Had a less beautiful flower of Paradice, out of an overblown appetite of undue excellencie, shed this first seed of iniquitie; had an Angel of an inferior Hierarchie in disdain of the order of his dependencie on the superior for illumination, rais'd the first revolt upon this claim of I will ascend and be like the most high of my fellow creatures: this deflection from the rectitude of his order, had doubtless been sufficient demerit to their maker. Yet methinks, this case seems to admit a more specious excuse [Page 27] for the creature; and consequently, would come nearer the reflecting on the providence of the Creator, for having left such a motive to this aspiring, as these unequal per­fections.

Suppose we likewise, that heaven had remained pure in his sight, and he had not charged his Angels with follie, but the first seed of evil had sprung out of the root of humane nature; that the tongue of the serpent had not stung the innocent state of Adam, but without this exteriour temptation he had repin'd at his restraining precept, and slipt into disobedience; the commencement of evil thus, in this weaker nature would not have appear'd so far from Gods intendment, because of the admission of it, by a being more liable to deficiencie, then the Angelical.

Wherefore upon this examination of the entrie of evil into the Creation, wherein Gods provision against it appears so un­questionable; I conceive this verified, that the nearer we find the deficient cause of evil to the Divine Essence, the more is all scruple of Gods contribution towards it remov'd from our ap­prehension.

SECT. III.
Discoursing the permission of the fall of Angels.

OUR speculations being entred, as it were, into the se­cond vail of the Tabernacle, methinks, some curious attenders propose to them; the offering to draw the curtain be­fore the Holy of Holies, and to look into the most inward my­sterie of Gods Providence; namely, his permission of the fall of Angels; whose ruine he foresaw before their creation, when [Page 28] nullitie seems unto most preferrable before extream miserie: such subtile enquirers may be pleas'd to remember, that many who had access into the second vail, were not admitted into the third and most sacred part of the Tabernacle: yet, as they were allow'd to direct the fume of their incense, towards the overture and partition of the holiest curtain, and their perfume pass'd farther then their persons; so in this mysterious mansion of Divine Providence, whither our concluding reason is not admitted, (viz. into the most secret retreats of Gods wisdom) our discursive speculation, fired with reverence and admiration may be addressed, fuming and breathing forth a good odour of honour towards that incomprehensible Essence, in which are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. 2 Col. 3

With this protestation, that we do not lift up our speculati­ons to make a shew, but an offering of them in the Temple; we may consider that God must have created the Angels ei­ther actually, in his presence; or else stated them in their way and access towards it. If in the first, might not there seem some incongruitie, that a Being which had a beginning, should be at once begun and arriv'd at the last term of the nature there­of; since this propertie seems peculiar to that Essence, which having no beginning, can have no medium towards an end, as containing all in the state of an eternal existence? and how to distinguish from an eternal Being, that which is consummate as soon as it is, (with out the interposure of any conceiveable space) exceeds my apprehension; Eternitie it self being but an indivisible state of all duration without any change. And this must have been the case of the Angels, admitting them produc'd actually, in presence of the Divine Essence.

Admitting the second manner, of their being set in a way towards their end, which requir'd some consequent act for their promotion: If we suppose them so powerfully conduct­ed by the will of their Creator, that they could not slip awry in their procession; might not this interim of their transition seem vain in respect of the suspension of a state whereof they could not fail, and whereunto they were to attain, without any [Page 29] contribution of their own free Acts? might not this interpo­sure of delay seem an undue pain to such natures as could wish nothing but that fruition?

Moreover, why may we not argue a greater nobleness of nature from their capacitie of erring, then from a state of ne­cessary indeficiencie; since the power of election endears the possession of the most spiritual goods; as we may exemplifie by this instance: The first principles of knowledge wherewith our understandings are necessarily possessed, (being imprinted in them before any voluntary discourse) affect not the mind with any delight, (as the knowledge that the whole is greater then the part, or that every effect has a cause; and many the like notorious verities stamp'd upon our rational nature;) but what delectation the soul finds in knowing results from those acquisitions she makes by her own voluntarie acts, the discove­ries she makes by her free exercise are the objects of her delight, deriving conclusions out of her free faculties. In some report to this state of our minds, why may we not infer, that those Intellectual spirits by their voluntarie election of the supream spiritual good obtain'd more joy then they would have done, by a necessary adherence to that object?

Nor can we argue from Gods infallibilitie and exemption from a capacitie of error, the conveniencie of that state for a creature, because God is Truth it self; so that the least di­gressing from it, were a destruction of his own Essence: where­fore his surpassing the possibilitie of erring, is not a contracti­on, but a consequence of his omnipotence; insomuch as he cannot be said possibly to be without the liberty of failing, but to be above it. But it will not follow, that this were a pro­per nature for a creature; which springing from nothing, im­mediately to an impossibilitie of being defective; there might seem too little difference between the original goodness by Essence, and the derivative by Participation. Wherefore Di­vines dispute without irreverence, whether God can create a creature, which by the vertue of his single nature might deserve the beatifical Vision? so that the freedome from any aptness [Page 30] or propension to errour, is as high a communication of good, as can be wish'd to a partaking goodness: nay, ev'n the liber­tie of transgressing seems no diminution to the dignity of such a Being; for the capacitie of meriting somewhat from the Cre­ator innobles more the nature then a necessitie of beatitude could, excluding all means of co-operation.

And may we not conceive that God is more glorified by a free act of his creature directed to the honouring him, then by his own single purpose of blessing his creature? For certainly if God could receive an accession of joy reflected from his works; we may apprehend it more likely to be deriv'd from a weaker voluntary love, then from a stronger necessary adhe­rence to his goodness: for in this he sees but the effect of his power, and in the other a consequence of his own amiableness in a free love and adoration. And to consider God, leaving it in the power of his supremest creature to love him or no, is in my apprehension, a most admirable proof of his Divine Inde­pendencie and Self-sufficiencie. So that rationally, the state wherein this sublimest Being was produc'd, seems to my con­ception, the most sortable to the Divinitie of God, and the due relation of a creature.

If after this it be ask'd (considering the ultimate term of this Intellectual nature to be a necessarie adherence of his will to the love of God) whether a necessarie fixure of it in his passage had not been an earlyer felicitie? I offer this satisfacti­on; that in the last state of his perfection, the understanding (being perfected by the Divine Vision) fixes and determines the will, which seems a fair and orderly consequence; but to suppose the will invariably center'd antecedently to the accom­plishment of the understanding, when its nature is to follow the apprehension, appears a kind of irregularitie. And this must have been the constitution of the Angels; if they had been created impeccable, yet distant from the presence of the Divine Essence. Moreover we may adde this, that the beatifical Vision may be consider'd either under the respect of a reward, or of a simple perfection; as the first, it relates to an intrinsick worth and [Page 31] some proportionateness in the enjoyer; under the last notion, it denotes only an infinite excellencie in the conferrer. And is not Gods goodness more exalted by his imparting so rare a gift, as a capacitie of some contribution on the creatures part, towards an eternal beatitude; then it would be by his necessi­tating this fruition? Is not the will a nobler power moving freely, though by a less-noble mover of it, then it would be, carryed passively by an extrinsick though a purer vertue? Me­thinks we may in some sort illustrate the melioritie of this state of free-will in Angels, by some of their ministerial acts amongst men: as when an Angel forms a bodie of air in perfect hu­mane similitude, and moves this specious bodie to and fro without the concurrence of any organised parts; the mover in this case is a more noble agent then when a natural body moves by the vertue of his own form and organs, as much as an Angel is worthier then a soul. Nevertheless we cannot say that the motion of these inanimate species is a nobler action then the vital stirring of a humane body; so if God himself should have forceably conducted the will of Angels to their last term; albeit the mover had been more excellent, might not the motion have been accounted less perfect, by reason of the deadness and inanimateness of the subject mov'd? which might have been conceived rather a resemblance, then a lively realitie of a will wanting the vital facultie of electing.

Upon these considerations I may opine with submission to superiour judgments, that the Angels were produc'd in a more noble state, then if they had been rendred impeccable by the restraint of their elective faculty: and I am perswaded that the highest strain of theirAccidental beatitude is what joy the Angels and Saints receive in other spi­ritual objects▪ besides the divine Essence. accidental Beatitude, is the eternal reflection upon this first voluntary Act of adherence to their Creator; and that this contemplation raises their three notes of HOLY, HOLY, HOLY, the higher, and casts their crowns the lower before his throne, from whom they receiv'd this capacitie of co-operating in their own eleva­tion.

If upon answer to this chief Article any tender curiositie should enter this other Interrogatory, how the crime and the sentence can be adjusted, the offence being finite, and the pe­nalty infinite? To this may be reply'd, that Gods goodness must needs be justified, when ev'n the excellencie of the nature of Angels occasions this severitie; since from the dignity of their intellect, arises the invariableness of their wills, by reason that their judgments (being not form'd by divisible and suc­cessive discourse, but springing up at once from a present intui­tion of the whole object of all compounded reasonings) can­not varie, finding no new matter to move them: and conse­quently, the will being fastned to the understanding, cannot stir towards an alteration. This truth we experiment in the ope­ration of our soul; for the judgments we make concerning the first principles of reason, are always fix'd and immoveable, because we judge of them without farther discourse, by our first single apprehension. As for instance, we may remember we never alter our conceit of the totals being more then any part of the sum; and many the like simple acts of our understanding ap­prehending notions without any motion of discourse. This be­ing then the eminent perfection of the Angelical Intellect to apprehend and conclude by the first aspect, it renders their will immoveable towards any retractation of their first error; and consequently their fault irremissable: for surely there are none so indulgent as to wish Gods pardoning a continued act of ha­tred and provocation.

And undoubtedly they who conceited an expiration of their pains, supposed likewise a cessancie of their sin; and happily if that could intermit, there would instantly follow a reconci­liation with their Creator: (since in those pure Intellects there can be no middle indifferent act between love and hatred.) For if the blessed Spirits were glorified (as many hold) upon their first-instants love of God; why may we not allow the same mercie to the first relenting application of the faln Angels? But however, by this discourse we find that the infinitie of their misery results from a perversion of the preheminence of their na­tural [Page 33] abilities; whereby ev'n the least shadow of scruple va­nishes from about the lustre of divine equitie.

But supposing their invariable state of sin and sufferance, ev'n the flames of their tortures afford us light, whereby to discern the justice of divine Providence. For, besides the bright beams of Gods power and justice, which shine in every eye, methinks, by the help of some prospective speculation, we may discry certain rayes of Gods mercie, nay, ev'n of his love, in their doleful condition. In which examination, we must first confess the crime of these (then happy) spirits, to have been the highest point of iniquitie their nature could admit. For in regard of beginning, it was, at least, from one of the first exercises of their freedome; Christ witnesses this against them, that from the beginning they stood not in the truth. Joh. 8.44. And how many millions of Ages, according to our accompt, may this sin have been extant, since (it is held by all the Greek Fa­thers that) they were created before the material World; and their origine being not specified in the Word of God, the opinion is left free. So that in point of duration, we may con­ceive the crime as near being eternal as we can apprehend a beginning act. And for the malignity of its nature, we cannot imagine it more transcendent, being no less then the most super­lative pride and ingratitude; whereof Lucifer stands convict by this testimony of the holy Spirit,Isa. 14. I will ascend up into heaven and be like the most High. Which irritation was the highest offence a created nature could reach to; and yet the punish­ment was no way commensurate to Gods power of revenge: for, as we have shewn the extent of it to eternitie, to be rather an effect of the Angels wilful obstinacie, then of Gods positive order; so is the intensiveness and extremitie of the pain (which is left, as I may say, to Gods arbitrement) staid, much short of infinitie. God could have strain'd their rack far higher then he did; and we may observe soberly, many clemencies and mitigations in their cases. First, after their sentence of perpetual imprisonment, doth not God permit them to goe abroad to inhabit the air, to compass the earth? which [...]ppears [Page 34] to be some satisfaction by their suing to Christ for the continu­ance of that liberty; and were they not allow'd for many ages, a seeming dominion of this world, insomuch that they durst own the right of disposing it, ev'n before God himself? Were they not permitted to be ador'd by the Monarchs of the earth, and to reside in such magnificent Temples, as savor'd more of their being Princes then prisoners? nay, are they not suffer'd to abide ev'n in the Temple of God, the body of man, and to exercise their appetites therein? And which is above all, were they not granted some power, ev'n over the body of God and Man, in the person of Christ Jesus, when they were allow'd to carry him to and fro? how often did he vouchsafe to converse with them? where we may note, that they never ask'd any thing of him relating to their own ease, but he accorded it; as in those two cases wherein they were suitors, not to be tortured by him,Marc. 9. and not to be remanded to their prison; he gave them that new lodging they propos'd, granting the same large quarter the Legion requested, in the herd of Swine. Therefore if Lucifer (whom we may well suppose to have had the honor of con­ducting Christ by the eminence of the act, as well as by the prerogative of the claim to the world) if he, I say, in stead of offering his forg'd title in exchange of adoration, had duely acknowledg'd the right owner of the world, and faln down and worshipp'd Christ, in recognition of his Deitie and his own dutie, tendring his ministry towards the undeceiving the world in point of his pretended dominion: why may we not suppose that this humble suit, tending to Gods honour, might have mov'd Christ more then those which respected meerly the Devils own ease, and yet were obtain'd? had he then upon the top of the Mountain aim'd thus at ascending into heaven, by falling down at this summons,Mat. 4. Thou shalt adore the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve: this possibly might have been ac­cepted for a retractation of his first presuming to say,Esay. 14. I will sit in the mount of the Congregation, I will ascend above the height of the clouds: by this counter-fal to his first, he might, hap­pily, have re-ascended to his design'd station; and by his [Page 35] Creator, been really transfigured into an Angel of Light.

How near this conception reaches to precise truth, I need not examine, since all pious speculations are not circumscrib'd within the limits of reveal'd verities: they may pass forward beyond them all, provided they reflect not directly back against any of them; which method I have, with reverence, intended to observe. And I may likewise hope to have reach'd this point I stood for, of shewing you some claritie of Gods mercie and benignitie, ev'n in those flames which afford no such light to their patients; for their crime has been evidenc'd to want the least colour of extenuation, and yet their judgment has been manifested in many respects, short of the extreamest se­veritie: so that to this case we may fitly apply that of the Psalmist, spoken for the illustration of Divine Providence, not only day unto day uttereth speech, Psal. 19.2. but even night unto night sheweth knowledge.

If we have perceiv'd some sparks of Gods mercie flying about ev'n in this center of darkness; we shall easily discern many flames of his love shining the brighter in the region of light, and rendred more intense by these contrarieties. May we not conceive blessed S. Michael enjoying all his elder bro­thers design'd inheritance? which he forfeited before possessi­on, and the other acquired, by consecrating himself to the Lord in the bloud of his rebellious brother: undoubtedly he beholds eternally his own faithful Motto, Who is like unto God? writ in his forehead, in such golden characters, that they shew him his crown cover'd with one lay of gold the more, as a due spoil of this his victory. And surely, the two parts of the fix'd stars shine perpetually the brighter, by the distribution of those rayes among them that were design'd for that third part, which fastned themselves to the Dragons tail; inso­much as there was not the least atome of grace or glory in­tended for the Creature, lost to the Universalitie, though for­feited by the Individuals; for what was retrenched, as to the extent of it to more, was supply'd by the intensives of it in the fewer; whereby the Divine Justice was fully display'd, and [Page 36] the bountie not at all contracted. And by this means also there is not one grain [...]ess of love return'd to God from the whole stock of his Crea ures, then [...] hav [...] b [...]en by the beati­tude of each particular; by [...]son the degrees of imparted glory, raise proportion [...]ely those of r [...]flected love; and con­sequently, if the C [...]eature, in general indures no abatement of his prepared glory, the Creator can find no diminution in his tribute of dilection.

And supposing this admirable order of distributing the por­tions of the demeriting children to the deserving; we may conceive not only the felicitie of the blessed Spirits indeared to them, by the contemplation of the other extream, as is decla­red by the holy Spirit in these words,Ps. 57. The righteous shall rejoyce when he sees vengeance: but we may likewise apprehend the accursed Angels highly punish'd by the prospect of their own design'd glories, shining in the Crowns of their vanquishers. This intimation may well be part of their accidental curse; wherein the divine Providence may be honour'd by this ad­mirable act of punishing enemies, not by severitie to them­selves, but by liberality to friends. Here we may properly joyn with the Psalmist in his admiration of One Abyss calls upon another: the deep of Justice seems to flow into that of Mercie, and mutually to raise each other: for by this reciprocal per­ception of the pains and pleasures of each state,Apoc. 14.11. Apoc. 21. the smeke of those torments which ascends up for ever and ever may be said to perfume heaven, when it comes thither; and the water of the celestial Jerusalem (when it falls after this manner into the center of the earth) turns into fresh sulphur, to sharpen and intend the flame. And thus we may imagine, that the drop of water which Dives beg'd, gave Lazarus some new refreshment, and the fulness of his streams reflected to the others drought some new inflammation. So while we contemplate the Divine Providence, drawing not only light out of the darkness of hell, but ev'n multiplying that darkness by the rayes of heaven, we may fitly close up our speculation with the astonishment of the [Page 37] Prophet. Who shall declare the powers of our Lord, and make known all his wayes?

In offering up this incense of praise to the Divine Provi­dence, I have not presum'd to stir any ring of the curtain about the Holy of Holies; having not so much as pretended to give any positive reason of this inscrutable mysterie of the fall of Angels. My speculations adventur'd but to look towards the Vail, and pretend to see but such a kind of gloomy light, as passes through a dark colour'd traverse, within which there is a great flame; such a manner of obscuritie remains in the clearest conceptions we can produce upon this mysterious sub­ject. Nor is our speculation, upon the arcana of the state of these spirits forbid; provided, they look in that order, which ev'n the six wing'd Seraphim upon the throne did observe; who, with two of his wings cover'd his face, and with two his feet, Esay. 6. and with the other two did flye: the vailing his face signified a re­verend confession, that the intellect, ev'n of the highest An­gels, was incapable of fully penetrating the Divine mysteries; the covering his feet imply'd a shame to own, in his actions or advances, (whereof the feet are symbols) a proportionate ap­proach towards the comprehension of Gods orders; and the flying with the other two wings imported the ardencie of his desire and affections to make some progress and advance in the perception of the Divine designments.

This method I have sincerely propos'd to my speculations, whereof I humbly acknowledge the disproportion, as to the touching the special reason of those mysteries they have dis­coursed; and in this regard I send them not abroad bare fac'd, confiding in their perspicacitie; nor do I presume upon their having gain'd so much ground towards the resolution of this holy secret, as to dare look upon their feet: yet I may mo­destly own the fervent desire of making some advance, in the contemplation of this so sublime and secret mysterie: In order whereunto, I have adventur'd this expansion of my thoughts, to make some flight upwards, towards this most inward re­cess of providence, respecting the Angelical estate.

Apoc. 5.Nor have we reason to lament, that none is found worthie upon earth to open nor to look upon this book: the adoring the seals becomes the members, and the opening of them is reserv'd to the head, who is worthy and able to unseal it. For us, while we see here with our own eyes, our part is to look more towards his humilitie then his science; when we become like him, we shall see with his eyes; and then the Angelical claritie will be but a proportionate object for our sight: till when those who have the best tun'd harps of God, ought to intend the singing humbly, this song of the Lamb here, that they may sing it triumphantly when they stand upon the Sea of Glass; Great and marvellous are thy works, Apoc. 15. Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy wayes, thou King of Saints; Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorifie thy name?

SECT. I.
Of Gods Providence in the fall of Man.

OUR speculations have been hitherto, but, as it were, in the first day of the Creation; wherein the light has been but weak, and the object only an Abyss of water: our conceptions (respecting the Angelical substances) have had but a faint waterish light from our reason, towards our discern­ment of these transcendent verities, we have discoursed. We are now come to the state of the second day, wherein the firmament appears, dividing the waters, and occasioning the emergencie of the dry land. The Scene of our meditations is now chang'd, and our thoughts have the Terre­strial Globe expos'd for their object; which is more propor­tionate to our faculty, then the celestial; wherein we have no signs or Phoenomena, by which to form any judgment, (that is [Page 40] to say) no visible lights in the firmament of Gods Word, by which to guide our meditations: wherefore we own not the offering you a me [...]sure of those truths, whereby to regulate your opinions; but only shew you the light of some innocent conceptions, design'd for an intellectual recreation.

Whether Adam (in his intellectual integritie) had any infus'd notion of the natures in general, and the several conditions of Angels may endure a pious disquisition; for though we have no pillar of fire extant in the firmament of the Scriptures, to guide us in the obscuritie of this question; yet have we no flaming sword appearing to forbid our attempting to enter in­to this secret of Paradise, by a reverential discussion of it. My opinion inclines much to the affirmative: for, as much as we enlarge his endowments, so much we magnifie the bountie and benignitie of the Creator, to humane nature. And certain it is, that his knowledge did extend to supernatural objects, as being created to that end; the means consequently of his at­taining it, must needs be proportionate thereunto. Where­fore it is held by many that he had by revelation, some notice of the mysterie of the Trinitie and Incarnation; not, as this last was referr'd to the redemption, but to the innoblement of humane nature; for the first must have imply'd the prenotion of his own fault, which is not to be admitted: but the last im­ports simply the dignifying of his own Being, wherein he might safely have rejoiced. And that part of the School which holds the Incarnation as predesign'd, abscinding from the fall of Adam, cannot fairly deny him the acquaintance of this supream honour, intended to his nature.

[...]or my part, I do not conceive any motive worthy of Gods familiaritie with flesh and bloud, abstracting from that of re­pairing his own Image, being defac'd and become more like his enemie then himself. The single design of adornment and im­b [...]llishment of the figure remaining in the original integritie, seems not so [...]equ site a tendern [...]ss; while man was in as perfect a similitude of [...]od as his hand had drawn him, and in as se­cure a way of becomming yet more like God, as his hand had [Page 41] set him: what need was there that God should expose himself in a form less like himself, to honor this transitory state of man? when surely, such an object would not have heightned mans de­sire of seeing God; which is rais'd most by an intellectual appre­hension of a vision surpassing so much our sense, that it exceeds all our imagination can preconceive. Wherefore I do not ac­quiesce to that opinion; but did I admit it, I should believe the time of Gods Incarnation would have been chosen before that of Adams translation. For surely, if any humane Creature were fit company for the Word of God cloth'd with humani­tie; it must have been he, who had the most of God in him, and issued the most immediately out of the same Word: the eldest Son of God (as I may say) by the womb of time, had been the most suitable societie for his only Son begotten in eter­nitie. And the earth likewise in her original integritie, (deri­ving all her beauties and verdure immediately from the hand of God, not the ministrie of nature) had been the best worthy of Gods sight, and the most glorious stage for his triumph: for in this case, Gods delight among the sons of men must have been the design of honouring their nature and the earths sub­stance, not of redeeming the one and purging the other; the Divine Person must have come to triumph in life, not over death, which had remain'd in the same nullitie, as before the Creation.

But leaving this perspective of heaven thus lightly touch'd over; because indeed (as that of the skie does often in pour­tracts) it stands here to grace, rather then finish this figure of Adam I am drawing; let us work on upon this part of his knowledge, touching the state of Angels. Wherein I conceive his full illumination to be very probable; for (abstracting from the congruitie of that grace with the rest of his intelle­ctual perfections) methinks his nescience in this point might seem some disabilitie towards the maintaining his obedience; since how can we suppose him fully understanding his penalty decreed, without any notice of the state of faln Angels? what could he apprehend more of this sentence, thou shalt dye the [Page 42] death: then a present cessation of his being? the remaining in perpetual torment could not fall into his apprehension, with­out a special revelation; and yet we know the truth of his sen­te [...]ce reached to this degree of an eternal punishment. And surely, the notice of such a danger, must have been more strongly repressive of his temptation, then the belief of a meer exinanition: for he could have no more notion of the evil of death, then was imparted by an infused knowledge; he could figure to himself no image, whereof any species could enter by his senses, so that he may be said to have made death before he knew it: wherein Gods infinite goodness may be pleaded a­gainst his executing a more severe judgment upon this beloved Creature, then he had denounc'd to his apprehension. If he had no intimation of the full sense of this death, adjudged to his disobedience; would it not seem to want the equitie of a Law, which declares the full penaltie assign'd to the transgressi­on? Besides, certainly, it must have conduc'd much to Adams preservation to know that a nobler and purer nature then his own, had already been deceived by presumption; and faln to so base a state, as the highest of his wishes was the becoming his seducer, that he might consequently prove his tormentor. Questionless then the premonition of this state of his sollicitor to disobedience, and the rigour of his penalty was not irrequi­site to fortifie him against the Devil and the Woman, both combin'd.

Nay, abstracting from these reasons of congruitie, to Gods goodness and Adams condition; may we not derive an argu­ment from the intrinsick state of his natural perfections? name­ly, that ev'n the Serpents voice might wel make some discoverie of that power which form'd it. For how could Adam, who had so lately given him his name, (adapted by his compleat apprehension of his nature) fail of this reflection, that the Ser­pents discourse must be drawn from a higher principle then his own natural capacitie: from whence he might infer the exi­stence of some rational substance, as a middle state, between God and himself: For he could not mistake this voice for [Page 43] Gods, with which he was so well acquainted; and much less could the sense pass for Gods, as being so repugnant to his for­mer Order. Wherefore it is no improbable inference, to de­duce Adams knowledge of the Angelical nature, from the ver­tue of his own Intellectual excellencie.

These arguments (though they fly not home to a determi­nation of this question, yet if they make but fair pointings at the probability of my opinion) reach my mark; which is not to propound new beliefs, but to offer some new spiritual recre­ation: and surely, intellectual agitations, admitting them in­innocent, afford conjointly Aliment as well as Exercise to the mind.

If we have gain'd this first ascent, we are not only well ad­vanc'd towards our end, but likewise fitly seated for a discove­ry of the rest of our way, towards the manifesting to humane reason, the equitie of Gods providence in permiting the fall of Adam: for granting him acquainted with the state of revolted Angels, and having the terrors of that sentence join'd with the attractives of his present felicitie, to fortifie his obedience; how powerful supernumerary defences were these, against the fairness of the fruit, and his facilitie towards the Woman? And supposing the devesture of the supremest Angel, and the nakedness of the Serpent already expos'd to him, how horrid an object must disobedience have appear'd to his pure under­standing? whereby his crime comes nearer being commensu­rate to his sentence, then by any other conception I can frame; Gods securing provisions being all we can imagine; and this evidence on Gods part, appearing so clear against mans transgression, What could I do, that I have not done for this ge­neration?

If it be alledged, the constituting man in the state of impec­cabilitie had been a greater measure of Gods bountie: this may be reply'd, that the nobilitie of humane Nature consisted more in the freedome, then it could in the fixure of his will, du­ring his passage and transcursion through his material Paradise: that state was proper to his spiritual One, as the term of his [Page 44] progress. And that necessitie which might have secured more the Creature, would not have honoured so much the Creator; God would have receiv'd no voluntary love, from his only creatures indued with that capacitie, if the affections of Angels and men had been determinately fix'd by their Creation. True it is, that could Gods glory in any degree have been eclipsed by their deficiencie, this danger might seem to require Gods prevention, by this determination of their wills; but indeed, ev'n their stains do but set off by the divers colours of Gods Attributes, by rendring his Justice the more resplendent; and consequently, serve to accomplish the whole form of his glory, which is properly figur'd by the discription of that Angel in the Revelation,Rev. 10 1. Who had a Rainbow upon his head, and his face was like the Sun. The diversitie of Gods Attributes, his Justice, Mercie, Wi [...]dom, and the rest, are like a Rainbow of several glories, shining in his Essence; the claritie whereof is a con­stant Sun, rather brightned then obscured by these different colours: since, therefore, this is the state of the Deitie, we cannot argue against Gods permission of such a defectibilitie, wherein his honour was no way interested.

Should any one wish for more evidences in this rational tryal; I may refer him to all those reasons discoursed in the fall of Angels: for I conceive them as fit at least, if not more, for this inferiour, then that sublimer Nature. And when he re­flects upon the preference of man, in point of reparation; there will be in my sense, more wonder due to the consideration of his preceding Lucifer, in point of resurrection, then to that of his being suffer'd to follow him in his fall. Wherefore such as are not satisfied with these reasons, must give me leave to de­mand of them an answer to this question of God himself, to the holiest disputer with him, Doest thou know the order of Heaven, Job 18.33. and shalt thou put down the reason thereof on Earth?

And as to the voluptuous lamenters of the difficulties of sal­vation, resulting from this first defection of our Parent; let me remember them, how much the difficultie endears to them all [Page 45] their transitorie acquisitions, ev'n in such pursuits as have no intrinsick value, but we are fain to prize them by the esteem of our own labours and contention: May we not justly then be taken off from excepting against this order of our purchasing eternal felicitie; wherein, not our vain fancie, but our divine faith assures us, that the degrees of difficulties heighten to us, proportionatly, those of joy and delectation;1 Cor. 1 if as our passions abound, so much shall our consolations. We may well answer such murmurers, as the Prophet did the carnal Israelites,Ezek. 3 [...].18. Yet the children of thy people say, the way of the Lord is not equal, but for them, their way is not equal. Wherefore, in order to a li­mitation of the curiositie, and reprehension of the softness of our Nature, I will call upon you to hear Gods voice out of the whirlwind, pleading his own cause,Job 40.8. Wilt thou disanul my judgment? wilt thou condemn me, that thou mayest be justified?

SECT. II.
Whether it be expedient, even for the wicked, there should be a God.

VVE have search'd as high as the Source, and sounded as low as the Center of all evil, the beginning in guilt, and the term of it in pain: and if we dive home into the Spring-head, we shall find it deeper there, then in the profoun­dest part of the Current; the culpable part being a greater ill then the suffering. From whence we may not improperly de­rive this inquirie, (admitting the being of evil not at all detra­ctive from God) Whether the properties of God are not detri­mental to the nature of the wicked?

The Being of a God all Nature attests, and for all her issues, [Page 46] claims the honour of so great an origine and extraction: every drop of rain, and each grain of dew challenges so noble a Fa­ther.Job 38.28. If the whole creation groans and travelles in pain, under the bondage of corruption, ev'n with the help of this satisfacti­on, of being subjected by so noble an Author; may we not say that every creature would repine and detest his own Being? had he not this comfort of being subjected to vanitie, Rom. 8.20. not wil­lingly; by one who hath subjected the same in hope, to be deliver­ed from the bondage of corruption, into the glorious libertie of the children of God. Surely therefore, there was never any rational creature, who did really dis-believe all Deitie, they who have vented some vain imaginations in favour of this impietie, ra­ther strain'd their fancies (as I conceive) to set forth the illi­mited extent, whereunto humane discourse could reach (viz. ev'n to the calling in question all power above it self) then seriously follow'd their own opinions; so that it was but an essay, how near their reason could get towards an Independen­cie on a superiour, not a perswasion, that it could fully reach that condition.

And in fine, I suppose they rather affected to say somewhat on this subject, that others could not think; then that them­selves thought, what they said in that argument. For I can ap­prehend how a flat stupid soul, (that cannot, as I may say, taste the difference of discourse) might swallow this irrational opinion without offence: but that an active subtile spirit, (such an one as distills all its conceptions, by thoughtfulness and meditation) should not find a conviction of this errour, ev'n in the act of discussing and defending it, falls not within my comprehension. But, whatever was really their opinion, this is remarkable for the evincement of this truth: that ev'n they who impugn'd it, wish'd notwithstanding, such a prefiding Soveraigntie, and preferr'd the good of such a Being, before their own perswasions. I read of Euripides and Critias, that thought the fame of Divinitie to have been the invention of some prudent person, and well-deserving of humane societie; who finding the imperfectness of Laws towards the redress and [Page 47] suppression of conceal'd and secret mischiefs, bethought himself of this remedie, A perswading men of this most beneficial in­vention, viz. the Being of a Divinitie; whose nature being omniscient, was present to the most inward recesses of our thoughts, and his Power equal to his Puritie, for the punishing ev'n all the most secret intentions of iniquity, which was re­pugnant to his nature. And, by this ingenuous induction of terror into the minds of men; this fiction said they, became more conducing to the common peace, then the other truth that al­low'd more licentiousnes in private iniquities. Sextus Empericus, likewise, reporting the sense of the Atheists, consorts them; aver­ring this opinion, that All of them acknowledg'd the beleif of a Deitie to be a very useful perswasion: so great a good is the Being of a God, that ev'n they who dis-beleived it, could not choose but wish it; and those whose guiltie terrours may tempt to wish none, cannot get the ease of dis-beleiving one. So powerful is the impression of a Divinity in humane Nature, that the most erring beleifs are forc'd to discern the utility, and the most perverted lives, the necessitie of such a Soveraign: who abounds with such benignitie ev'n towards these irritations, that he provides motives respectively proper for the rectifying each of these errors; offering the ingenuous reason, and the sensual fear towards their disabuse and resipiscence.

I will not undertake to unblind the speculative Atheist, who dazles himself with the rayes of his own speculations, while he looks upon his discourse as the supremest Authoritie: wherefore, methinks, God very justly uses such arrogant rationalists, as Christ did those disciples with whom he con­versed so long, of himself;Luk. 24 holding their eyes that they should not know him, while they were earnestly inquisitive, and faultily, incredulous: so doth God entertain these discoursers of Him: while they argue and reason upon the whole frame of nature, wherein God is present and visible; He yet deservedly with­holds their discernment of him in respect of their unbelief of all those testimonies.

My thoughts are addressed rather to such practical Atheists [Page 48] that seem to treat with God as the Gerazins did with Christ; whom they desired to depart from them, (after they were con­vinc'd of his omnipotence, by his Miracle upon their Swine,) not out of unbeleif, but apprehension of his power. In like manner, there may be some Sensualists, who are not in doubt of Gods nature and properties; yet may be tempted to wish a remove and absence of a Divine superintendencie, as not wil­ling to part with their bruital and swinish appetites, which is all the stock upon their earth, and apprehending his puritie, as repugnant to their fowl possessions, which they would enjoy without any future accompt. Some such there may be, who living in open rebellion, may vote against the being of a Soveraign Justice, simply in order to their own indempnitie, disliking only that Attribute of God, which is oppos'd to their own inordinate self-attributions: such would willingly sign this mutual contract, allowing God his own claim, of the hea­ven of heavens, belonging to the Lord: with this proviso, of his giving the earth to the sons of men, without any accompt to the donor. Such humours would fain have that done to God, which the Jews did to Christ; though with a different intent: for they would have God blinded not so much out of an ill will, to strike him, as to keep him from seeing how to strike them. But to evidence the unreasonableness of this wish, I will ask this question, Whether admitting God could devest his propertie of revenge, they would condition the relinquishing their injurious appetites, and exchange their present pleasures for an exemption from future penalties? Surely, many sen­sual captives would reject this offer; so little does the reversion of their fears weigh against the presence of their fruitions; and so remote sufferings deduct so little from the sense of their so near delights. But these votaries of pleasure may be convinc'd of the desireableness of ev'n a just God, by the interest of their own predominant appetites.

Let these worshippers of sense but ponder, how all their dearest cupidities are equally connatural to all men; and con­sequently, did not the fear of God restrain many from the [Page 49] same pursuits, every one of their affections would meet with such troops of Competitors, that their lives would rather be a continuall combate, then a quiet possession of their appetites, the propriety & singleness of fruition which so much heightens our sense, would be excluded by this confused assaulting of all pretious temptations. For albeit humane laws may be suppo­sed sufficiently coercive, in point of notorious violences upon legall rights and proprieties: yet, were the interior band of conscience dissolv'd, (which is a kinde of spiritual compress, that rather holds then binds up our will, working more by way of curing the infirmitie, then constraining the libertie of our ap­petites;) if this cover'd tye, I say, were slip'd, and the manifest knot of humane coercition only left, to hold all the stress of our carnal impulses; it were▪ methinks, to leave us in such a state, as if vice were only prohibited by day light, and fully licensed by night; for the eie of humane law peirces not any clouded or vai­led iniquitie; so that, when impietie were put to no constraint, but to invent habits and dresses to cover her apparent defor­mity, this would oblige her but to goe a little about, not break her course.

And, in this supposition, the various lusts and cupidities of men would be like a world of prisoners, broken loose from all parts in the dark, running against and overthrowing one ano­ther; each in pursuite of their particular liberty, wherof they would all indanger the miscarriage, by the confused multitude of seekers of the same thing; such a shocking and traversing of one anothers design'd pleasures would there be, if all consciences were loose to range in the dark, every one to set his own game. When, besides the number of pretenders, to the fruits of earth­ly delights, being so much augmented, and the stock being not at all inlarged, the shares must needs abate to many; and then, since the deliciousnes of this life is so narrow, even as it stands now divided by the exclusion of self-deniers, retrench'd from the number of enjoyers, by the restriction of conscience; how much more would it be diminished to the voluptuous, if all such should stand and contend for their portions? Doth not [Page 50] the carnal lover confess that the delight of his passion is bla­sted by the air of his own suspition of the least communitie in his possession? And how much less seed of jealousie and di­straction is there cast abroad in the earth, by reason of those many hands that are held by the hand of God from ta­king the Enemies hour in the night, to make this dissemina­tion?

How many perfidious and voluptuous violaters both of ci­vil and religious duties; live secur'd from acts of retaliation, by the interposure of the injur'd parties pietie & conscience? so that their own inconsideration of God does not conduce so much to their affected injoyments, as the apprehension of him in others. As many as were such fools as to say in their hearts, there is no God, would not be such fools as to leave injuries unre­sented, or pleasures unattempted. And, supposing every one should take this course, which the Wise man reproaches in the licentious discreditors of future accompts, resolving thus,Wisd. 2.8. Let us crown our selves with Rose-buds before they be wither'd: let none of us goe without his part of voluptuousness; let us leave tokens of our joyfulness in every place, for this is our portion, and our lot is this: admitting this universal concurrence in the same pretences of voluptuousness; I am perswaded there would be many passionate Sensualists, that would rather wish every disturber of their single enjoyments, so many invisible spirits, with a power of punishing their passi­ons in another World, then visible men with a power of sharing the delight of them in this: so much less displeasure would they apprehend from the Nature of God, then from that of men.

Since the practical Atheist then is permitted to live in this world, as if there were no God; and withal, has his lusts the more secured to him, by the Being of One, (having his pleasures guarded, very often, by a power, unconsider'd by himself, and apprehended by others) is it not reasonable, that as much as he values the satisfaction of his appetites, so much he should acknowledge to the Being of a Deitie?

This being evinc'd, I may justly propose to any impious person, (who is dazled and disquieted by fits, with some fla­shes of Gods justice, striking upon his eys,) either to reform his vitiousness, by which means he shall be delivered from any pre­judice of that attribute; or if his gross delights overcast to his eyes all the beams of Gods nature, all standers by will acknow­ledge he owes the commoditie and easiness of his own works of darkness to a double benignitie in God, viz. first, His shadow­ing to him his own terrifying light, whereby he is allow'd an uninterrupted possession of what he prefers before God; and secondly, to Gods casting forth such rayes upon others, as ter­rifie and repulse them from such competitions, whereby to him the share is enlarged of his so much affected possessions.

Upon these reflections, we find God so far from leaving any part of the world without testimonie of his Being and his Goodness, that ev'n his enemies receive greater external marks of it, then his friends; the accomplishment of their desires, be­ing the more frequently allow'd them; Do not their easie fe­licities bear witness to them of their benefit, by a supreme Dis­penser? insomuch that if there be any who imagine they riot and luxuriate securely in the dark, out of sight of all Providence, they abuse themselves like Baals Priests, discover'd by Daniel; for every secure voluptuous step they make upon the dusty pleasures of this earth, leaves a print and mark of their debt to Divinitie. Wherefore ev'n the most sensual must acknowledge the advantage of a God; at least in such a sort as the carnal Jews judg'd of Christ, honoring him for his power of feeding them, though they did not confess him upon his dominion over the evil spirits. Those therefore whom God suffers to live, as if he had not power to cast the Devil out of them; while they en­joy their beloved vices with so much securitie and command, that they seem to have possess'd him by the strange success of their wishes: such must confess themselves pleasur'd by the fear others have of the Devil, and the hatred he bears to God: for by that apprehension, the number of Competitors, for their [Page 52] pleasures is diminished; and by this enmitie, the Prince of this world is engag'd to serve them in their designs: both which contributions to their wishes, result from the Being of a Dei­tie.

Having thus evidenc'd to the wicked the interest of their de­lights; we may justly conclude, that thou [...]h it were better for them they had not been, yet is it also better for them that there is a God: Who since he must appear at last to all that seek him not, let me offer the practical Atheist this assured means of re­joycing in the Being of God,Isa. 55. Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near▪ for now he is near them, though he is not seen. How unhappy will that day prove, when he shall be seen, and yet not be near them? as yet he appears not in judgment; and if he be sought he may be found: when he shall shew himself in his judgment seat, he shall be seen by the wicked, but not be found.

SECT. I.
Whether the calamities of the vertuous, que­stion Gods Povidence.

ALthough we have carryed the former questi­on against the Libertines, and evicted to them the expediencie of a God, by the fa­cilitation of their interests; as also by Gods condescendencies to the vicious, we have stated his goodness above dispute: yet are we called to inquire, whether his severities in this life to the vertuous, do not somewhat discolour the candor of his Providence?

To answer this: In the first place we must remember, that God design'd man to none of these evils that infest him. As he was to remain naked, so there were no thornes upon the earth to prick him: he sow'd them, while he thought to pull one out, with which the woman had touch'd him, viz. her cu­riositie. [Page 54] And the first smart he felt was that of shame; for cure whereof he presently sought a covering, and thought a few leaves sufficient remedie: but soon after, the thorns and briars grew up so fast, that ev'n the skins of beasts were not ar­mour against their points; and the earth of her self became so far from paying her voluntary tributes, that she rais'd only arms against man, producing nothing freely, but thorns and briars. Man having thus discompos'd the frames of both natures, intellectual and material; Gods infinite goodness un­dertook a greater work then his creating so much good, out of nothing, viz. The extracting Good out of all this Evil: which if God had not been pleased to resolve; it may well be thought he would have dissolv'd and re-nihilated the Universe, rather then have left all those evils we see in it, unreserv'd to any con­sequent good.

Hence was deriv'd the mutation of the figure of Gods works, which at first was stamp'd as a circle of goodness; wherein every point joyning to one another, left not the least interposure of evil. But this figure being broken by mans irregularitie, the wisdom of God reconnected the whole frame, changing the form into a kind of chain; wherein he coupled his own good­ness and mans evils, by so admirable an internection that ev'n the worst parts of the chain drew some good after them; and by this concatenation, the Divine Providence left nothing sim­ply evil in the Universe; having thus plac'd all the miseries of this world, as introductions to some subsequent goodness.

In this Order then, the world stands now recompos'd, inso­much that there is no privative evil that has not some positive good link'd to it; as every sensible necessitie, a contiguous benediction touching upon it. The distresses and miseries of one part, have the charities & munificencies of the other, coup­led together; & no kind of suffering, in one portion, wants a cor­respondent plenitude, in another: whereby is fram'd this consort­ing of goodness and evil, in this interchangeable concatenation.

When the passion of man invaded the earth, and began to tear in peices this common Mother, in contention for the large­ness [Page 55] of private inheritances; had God allotted every child a portion, (commensurate to their necessities, though not to their cupidities) this distribution would have left the viciousness of our nature, less allay'd with any commix'd vertue. The in­quination of riches would have been more sordid, without pur­ging it self, by liberalitie to the exegencies of sufferers; and pos­sibly, every one being fitted with a competent provision, the so different humors of men would have lov'd their private sufficien­cies, enough to have excluded any distaste of this world; where­by the alienation from God would have been the more univer­sal, the world having so good a title to every ones affection, as this common accommodation. For even with the help of all the thorns in our sides or before our eys, to wit our own pains or the pressures of others; how subject are we to embrace this earth, ev'n while it wounds us by this confixure of our selves to it? if we find it not hard to kick against these pricks, how hard would it have been for us to have rais'd our heads from off our downy pillows, and set our hearts upon the knowledge of a better and enduring substance; or not to have wish'd this our City perma­nent without seeking one to come?

Herein therefore is evidenc'd the admirable wisdom and e­quitie of Divine Providence, in continuing the evils man had induc'd, and yet assigning them, both for his punishment and perfection; extracting out of them the good of his own Justice, together with that of mans Justification, and leaving him a means to be better qualified by the necessities then accommo­dations of this world. For we are more innobled by our impart­ing ev'n of small succours, then by our impropriation of great abundance: since in this there appears only the Divine bountie, wrought upon us, and in that, the Divine nature, working in us; which is so much more honor, as is the office of representing God then the state of being presented by him. Betwixt which there is such a difference, as between the matter and the form of an Angel, cast in gold; wherein though the material part be precious; yet the imaginary and fi­gurating is much more excellent: so, though we admit [Page 56] the substance of riches possess [...]d to be a valuable good; yet the act of ministring it out in benefits is the nobler propertie, as it personates the supreme goodness.

This being admitted, we cannot deny the acknowledgment of this Divine capacitie to the order of these intervenient links of necessities and distresses, in the chain of Providence. And towards the dignifying of this Office, Gods purpose seems so express, that he has not only furnish'd subjects for our perso­nating his Office of beneficence▪ but submitted himself to be represented by the same subjects; from whence results this double gratification by our commercing with miseries; not only the releiving Agents being put into this Commission of representing God; but likewise the redressed Patients standing deputed for Gods substitute.

And may we not farther elucidate the Divine benignitie, by this consequence depending upon temporal necessities, namely, the ministring means of retributions to God? What noble na­ture would not have wish'd that his Creator (without any de­rogation from his self-sufficiencie) could have required his assistance? And is not this honour afforded by Gods appear­ing to us in necessities? Doth not this correct the dangerous qualitie of plentie and fulness of bread, viz. the having means to return our superfluities into his hungring mouth, from whose hands we had receiv'd all our provision? By which retribution the appetite of gratitude is some way satisfied; which is so sharp in noble minds, that without some food of reciprocal of­fices, their spirits suffer and faint for want of such aliment as is provided for them by the necessities of Gods substitutes. And whereas there are so few in the world, who represent God by way of supremacie: through whom we transmit our gratitudes to him in the form of reverence and subjection: may we not say that God design'd abundance of such images of himself, as through which we might return him our thank­fulness, by way of succours and consolations?

And moreover, doth not the unequal state of the rich and the poor (happening with equal worth and merit) argue to the [Page 57] believers of Gods Justice, the immortalitie of our souls; and promise another life, where the blessings and provisions shall be found justly commensurate, to the deserts of every recipient? Thus therefore, 'tis evident Gods incomprehensible Wisdom, has so contriv'd the connexion of order in the Universe, which man had discompos'd; that ev'n those apparencies which in their first light, seem to dazel our eyes (as to the discernment of his contrivance) upon second and serious contemplation, most fairly elucidate the Divine Providence. Wherefore, we may well conclude this question, with the confession of David, Psal. 18.10. The judgments of our Lord are true, justified in themselves.

SECT. II.
Whether the prosperitie of the wicked, and their advantages over the righteous in this world, question not Gods Providence.

ARE there not many who varie their judgments of Gods Providence, as some of the Jews did of Christs power in miracles; whereof having been convinc'd by one evident proof, notwithstanding they began to question it again upon his not answering their imaginations, with another testimonie? as, when they saw him resenting the death of his friend Laza­rus; some of them, with a wonder bending towards diffidence said, Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind, Joh. 11.37. keep this man from dying? insinuating thereby, that since he had omitted to do for a friend, what required less power then that he had ex­ercised for a stranger, his capacitie might well be suspected. Much after this manner there may be some who have yeilded to the equitie of Gods Providence, in point of his converting [Page 58] the sufferings of the vertuous into blessings: yet when they consider the prosperitie of the ungodly, and their oppressions upon the just, they may waver again in their rectified perswasi­on, and ask, with some scruple, Whether God (who can turn the afflictions of his friends into advantages,) cannot oppose the felicities of his enemies, and debar their injustice to his ad­herents, since this last seems the lesser prerogative? If such standers-by at the Tombs of Gods friends, will expect the sequence of these permissions, they'l find, in their designments a clear illustration, rather then any eclipse, of the Divine Providence.

Since the Devil receiv'd that notorious affront from the di­stresses of persecuted Job, he is not forward to assault Gods friends, immediately by himself, with these batteries against their temporalities; he seldome uses his fire (shot out of his region, as Prince of the Air,) or his whirlwinds (sent from thence) to enter the hearts of the righteous, by this breach and ruine of their fortunes. Wherefore in his attempt upon the children of Israel, he imploy'd his Emissarie Balaam, to corrupt them with plenties, rather then revolt them by priva­tions; and when the proudest spirit in person, undertook his master-piece of temptation upon Christ Jesus, he sought to work by offers, not by offences; thinking the Dominion of the world a more subtile temptation, towards pride and ambi­tion, then the want of bread, towards murmur and dissatisfa­ction. And since the old serpent left the most of his sting sticking in the Cross, when he bruised his head against it; he is fain to relye more upon the corrupting properties of power and profit, then the qualities of crosses and afflictions, which have much counterpoison in them against temptation. In proof whereof, we may observe, that the Devil acts commonly, by humane instruments in most of the miseries and afflictions, currant in the world; and men are not moved by the mischief, but the interest redounding to them, from the injuries and vio­lences whereby they afflict and distress one another. By which means the tempter makes sure of his prize on the one side; for [Page 59] the iniquitie of the actors, alwayes, returns him gain; though he prove for the most part, a loser, by the vertue of the pati­ents. Insomuch that we may suppose, if the world were left to the administration of the Devil, he would not ordain so ma­ny tribulations and sufferings, as now exercise it: temporal fe­licitie would be more constant, and so more seducing then it is now; being discredited much by a notorious infi­delitie.

It is the order of God, (to manifest the undervaluable scar­citie and narrowness of this worlds treasures) to shew us few in it abounding in wealth and power, by other means then the oppression and distressing of others. It holds, as S. Augustine sayes, in civil, as well as in natural productions: the things that are overcome, pass into the qualities of those which master them, this is the order of things transitorie: if this world af­forded fulness and satietie for every one, the vitiousness of the proud and voluptuous would want the purging qualitie upon patients, while it polutes the subject wherein it is active; if some injur'd partie were not exercis'd and purified by those iniquities and disorders. Wherefore temporal crosses and calamities are the results of Divine Providence, rather then of diabolical policie.

Upon this concession then, that sufferings are beneficial to the vertuous (which is the fundamental of our Religion, built upon the Cross) the prevailing and overpowering of the wicked proves a necessary consequence; since the Devil will not act immediately in his temporal persecutions, but by humane in­struments; which he must likewise pay out of the spoil and prize they make by his Commission. And is not this way of making fortunes for the Devils partie, now so customarie, that methinks the wondering at it, is the greater wonder? For as ev'n little children which are bred in shops where Antiques and Vizards are made, quickly overcome fear, and soon come to play with them; conceiving their right uses, which is not to fright, but to cover and disguise, for some time: so in this great Warehouse of toyes and trifles, wherein we are brought [Page 60] up; these Masques and Vizards of Divine Providence are so familiar, that ev'n the weakest minds may seem past the being tempted by them, and apprehend aright the chief designment of such figures; which is, for the present to conceal Gods judgments, not to confound mans comprehension.

I confess the first beholders of this object had a strange tem­ptation in their infeebled nature; they who were seduc'd by the Serpent to affect the knowledge of good and evil, when they saw the great evil of death fall first upon the good, and inflicted by the hand of the wicked, had more reason to apprehend this an effect of the Serpents single power, without Gods concur­rence; then at first they had to believe him able to make good his word of giving them a clearer sight of good & evil; they see­ing in the death of Abel, such an evidence of the subjection of the weaker to the worser brother, might have suspected the Serpents sharing in the worlds disposure. And surely Enos, who was the first (after mans running away from Gods voice) that began to call upon the name of the Lord, Gen. 4.26. might well have been allow'd to have ask'd God Jeremies question; since thou art just Lord, why do the wicked prosper? the power and felicity of the Giants in his dayes, whose strength was their law, might more pardonably have rais'd this diffidence of the divine Providence; but we who are acquainted with this order by the sequence of it in so many ages as this world contains, may, by the familiaritie, be recon­cil'd to the aversion. But having besides supernatural lights hung out from the beginning al the way to conduct us through these passages so obscure to our nature, we are rendred unexcu­sable in our dissatisfaction. Has not the Lamb slain from the be­ginning of the world, opened the Book and the Seals, and shew'd us the reason of this conduct, imprinted so fairly that none can look upon it without reading it? This King of Innocence and Sufferance was to have a train, preceding him from the be­ginning of the world, to usher him into it, who was to march in the middle of it, attended as well by those that went before, as such who follow'd him; and from Abel to himself, all his dependants suffer'd in order to his entry into that procession; [Page 61] as, since the rest of his train doth and shall to the end of the world continue in that course, in conformitie to his prece­dence. For he was to make his entrie into the world mysti­cally, as he did literally into Jerusalem; his company that went before him were to put off their fleshly garments, and strew them in his way; and the multitude which passed both before and after him, in this self-sacrificing order, were to honour and praise him in their sufferances, Crying, Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of our Lord.

Since then the Co-heirs of eternal glory with Christ, are to bring this mark of legitimation,Rom. 8. the becoming like unto his image: how can this office be perform'd so properly as by the hand of the ungodly; such as must have both inclination to the work, as well as appetite to the pay, which is power and prosperitie? Would they (who are scandaliz'd with the fortunes of the unrighteous) have the Elect persecute and afflict one another? might not this office allotted to some of them, seem like theirs that were to lead out the Emissarie Goat, who remain'd themselves polluted for a while, by the act of purging others?

In this the wisdom of Providence is most adorable; which makes use of the uncleanness of Gods enemies, to purifie his friends. Can there be any thing conceived more admirable then for God to leave men their libertie to pervert his good­nesses, and for him to derive other goods from their malice and perversion? And this effect results from those exer­cises of their vertues, whereby the Grandees of the earth raise and prefer the great ones of Heaven; Upon which promise of the Holy Ghost,Jo. 6. that the Fool shall serve the Wise man, S. Gregory asks how this is verified; since for the most part, the fools command over the other? and answers, that the fool serves the wise, ev'n while he domineers over him, since by his depression he exalts him.

Such is the force of Divine disposition, which regu­lates all motions, that what declines from the rectitude of the first assigned order, in falling, is plac'd in another; one [Page 62] mans will, as it bends and grows crooked, serves to rectifie and straiten anothers, and by this means there is no vice, in the hands of the Devils tenants, left to bring him in a clear revenue.

Therefore considering the Divine intendment in this permis­sive contribution to the prosperitie of the wicked; I wonder no more at their outsides of wealth and glory, then I should to see an Executioner very brave, after the suffering of some great man, knowing such spoils to be his Fees; since the Devil has nothing else to give his Instruments, but such Vales as exter­nal commodities. We need not be scandaliz'd at those sala­ries, which God suffers to be distributed to the most unworthy, that the vertuous should not set their hearts upon them; but praise their ambition to the seeking of things that are above, not upon the earth, which are not foyl'd and discredited by any of the wickeds participation. Wherefore S. Paul presses this con­fidence upon the over born partie, In nothing be terrified by your adversaries; which is to them an evident token of perdition, but to you of salvation, and that of God.

And if we will rightly examine the state of sinners, we shall conclude them most miserable, when they are allow'd to act their mischiefs: For, if it be ill to have design'd evill actions, it is worse to have been able to effect them; without which capacitie, the affection to them is more likely to languish and shrink away: so that if each of these have a single miserie in it, they are charg d with all three, whom we see willing, able, and acting their iniquities.Job 12.6. Wherefore the holy Spirit tells us, that while the tabernacles of the Robbers abound, they provoke God boldly. When we see then a lasting prosperitie of the impious, rather then admire their station;Job 5.3 we are taught by holy Job how to conclude of their condition, saying, I saw a fool with a firm root, and presently I cursed his beauty: knowing that the fruits of this root are but apples of Sodome; specious in colour, while they have within nothing but corruption and ashes;Wisd. 15.10. which the holy Spirit attests thus to us, his heart is ashes, and his hope more vile then earth: as if in the reprobate, the very first prin­ciple of his life were already resolv'd into the last period of death.

Let then the shining fortunes of the oppressors, glorie with Herod, in their glittering outsides and coverings of their cor­ruptions; since we may say to them,Isa. 14.12. under you the moth is strew­ed, and worms are breeding under your covering: these are truly your own cloathings; and thus did both Antiochus and He­rod, being strip'd of those other borrow'd garments, consume and rot away in theirs. They who gaze only upon the glo­rious robes of Tyrants, may well be dazled with their splen­dour: we must therefore take off our eyes from their Palaces, and look upon them in the Sanctuarie; where, understanding their latter ends, we shall find they were set up, thus to be de­luded, rather then dignifi [...]d. For doth not God very often ensnare powerful and presumptuous sinners with the opinion of their past successes; when they have but some such false ap­pearance to delude them, as the Moabites had,Reg. 4.3. to believe the waters the Sun shin'd upon, were the bloud of the children of Israel? Thus doth their own Sun shine frequently deceive the enemies of God, after they have been allow'd some times to prevail over his children: and that which troubles very often, and dims the eyes of Gods people, is to see the bloud of the innocent shed upon the ground like water, whilst they behold this Sun-shine of the persecuting party; which offends their eyes the most, when they look so much upon the beams, that they cannot discern the motion, wherein all their lustre is de­clining towards an eternal darkness; the present felicitie of the ungodly dazles them so much, they consider not the transi­tory swiftness, wherein it is passing away to irremediable mi­serie.

Wherefore the surest course to keep our Faith in Divine Pro­vidence, from being (as I may say) Sun-burnt and discolour'd by these irradiations of temporal glories, is to turn our thoughts to their West and Setting; where we commonly find light; only to undeceive us, in the valuableness of such transitory splendors.

And Solomons advice (given in order to our prospect upon our own conditions) is as useful in this case, to secure us from [Page 64] being deceiv'd in that of others,Eccles. 11. though a man live many years, and rejoice in them all; yet let him remember the time of dark­ness: which, when it comes, all that is past, is reproved of vanitie. This prevision of the time of darkness (whereunto the bright­ness and lustre of the wicked is running,Wisd. 5 9. ev'n as a Post that hasted by, and like a Ship that passes, which leaves no trace in the waves) will keep us steddy in the adoration of D [...]vine Providence: when we see those great Vessels of Pyracie, with full winds carrying out all their fails, and making prize, and sinking the little innocent Traders in this our present Sea of confu­sions.

S. Augustine (upon this subject of the temporal advantages of the ungodly,) sayes elegantly, that Gods order concerning Ismael, was a figure of his proceeding with many Aliens to his Covenant: for he gave him great worldy gifts, when he turn'd him out of his fathers house: so does he to the single moral vertues of many graceless persons; he gratifies them with great secular presents, for being the natural issue of Reason, though he pu [...]s them out of his house, as not being within the Covenant of Grace. Upon this account, were the glories of the gallant Heathen assign'd to their moral vertues, which sprung from the stock of nature, and therefore deserv'd natural recompen­ses, while th [...]y were excluded from supernatural rewards, as not being the conceptions of grace, whereto those promises are singly annexed.

Having thus read part of the Reasons of State, (as I may say) whereupon these Commissions of power and dominion over the vertuous, are permitted by God, and issued out by the Prince of this World to the wicked. Methinks, the innocent sufferers or spectators, have less reason to be deceiv'd in the va­lue or wonder of the Actors prevalencies, then they themselves to be abus'd in the conceit of their own preferences: for the Actors, like common Souldiers, never consider the cause, but the libertie is given them by their employment: as we find at­tested of that great Assyrian, of whose ambition and arrogance God was pleas'd to serve himself, in his designs; the Prophet [Page 65] tells us how little he understood his Commission of purging Gods children, saying, He thinks not so, Isa. 10.7. neither doth his heart esteem it so; but he imagines to destroy and cut off nations. But Gods providence rightly understood, must appear most admi­rable, in that he suffers not the Prince of this worlds ministers to make their fortunes in his service; without obliging them to do his work, while they intend only their own designs: and by this order, S. Gregory sayes, ev'n those who perish for them­selves, provide for the Elect. Wherefore the servants of God, when they are tempted by the eminent fortunes of the disservers of him may answer their scruples and settle their spirits with this reflection;Notum a sacu­lo. From the beginning the work of the Lord is known unto himself.

If I have, by Gods assistance, given but light enough to the reverend and cautious seekers of God, to keep them from fal­ling in this dark passage of his Providence, when they enter in­to it, I have satisfied my design; for we can expect no such day-light there, as may allow us to run inconsiderately through it. The blessed souls themselves, who have suffer'd and been purg'd by this order, seem not to have a compleat, though they have a satisfactory illumination in this point, of the con­tinuing prosperitie of the Princes of this worlds Ministers: for when they crie with a loud voice, How long Lord, Apoc. 6 1 [...]. thou who art holy and just, doest thou forbear to avenge our bloud on them that dwell upon the earth? were they not answer'd, that their fel­low-servants and brethren were to be sent after them, by the same way, and by the same hands? So that it appears to the end of the world, these exercisers and purgers of the Elect, shall be imploy'd to deliver to Gods servants eternal glory, while they are allow'd themselves the smoak and vapour of se­cular felicitie. I may therefore properly close up this satisfa­ction I offer, with the voice of the Angel, He that hath an ear, let him hear: If any lead into captivitie, he shall goe into captivitie: If any kill with a sword he must be kill'd by a sword: here is the patience and faith of the Saints; which is to be exercis'd, in this world, till the whole Book of Providence [Page 66] shall be laid open, in that day, whereof the Prophet Isaiah speaks (in order to the clearing of all suspended doubts, in this worlds administration,Isa. 26.9.) When thou shalt do thy judgments in the earth, the inhabitants of the world shall learn Justice.

SECT. III.
Whether Gods permission of so many wicked persons and actions, does not justly scanda­lize the Godly?

DID not Gehazi the servant of the Prophet Elisha, (who had seen as many miracles wrought by his Master, as he had occasions, requiring the use of them for himself, or the be­stowing them upon his friends) when he saw an host of Chari­ots and horses encompassing his Master, Reg 4.6: fall into a perplexed diffi­dence of their safetie; crying out to the Prophet, O what shall we doe? as if this danger had surpassed the Prophets Preroga­tives. Like whom, are there not many servants of God, who after full satisfaction in the justice and kindness of Gods Pro­vidence, (in point of afflicting his children, and allowing his enemies to triumph over them, enjoying the vanishing fruits of the earth) are yet so weak, as when they look upon the multi­tude of the wicked and wickednesses, (which seem to cover the world) to scruple Gods order, in permitting so many evils of guilt to overflow the earth? And methinks I hear the same terms (whereby the reliance upon Gods providence was then perswaded by his Spirit) used by some towards the questioning this Order; saying, Since God is able to save, as well by a few as by many, is he not likewise able to afflict and purge his children by a few, as well as by many wicked persons and actions: [Page 67] whose excessive number seems so to infect the very air of the world, that the vertuous had need of strong antidotes to be able to resist the contagion?

I confess this is a very distracting temptation; wherefore I will use the method of Elisha, to invoke Gods Spirit towards the opening of their eyes (that will turn them up towards the Mountain) that they may see more with them then against them. For as the Chariots and horses of fire, which were represented to Gehazi's intellectual sight, (his corporal being already open, which let in his fears) re-assur'd him: so when the eye of our faith is open towards this mountain of Providence, we see the flames of it shining so bright about us, that we discern, ev'n many more goods to be with us, then evils against us. I mean, not so many good persons, but goods in the universal notion; for the number of evil persons diminishes no more the number of such goods in Gods accompt, then the corruption of indi­vidual substances, substracts from the whole matter of the Universe: since God raises new moral as well as natural pro­ductions out of every defection, though our present apprehen­sions are no more satisfi'd with the consequence, then our senses are, that water spilt upon the earth is not lost. As it requires discourse to perswade us of this translation of forms; so doth it faith, to conclude this moral resurrection of glory out of disho­nour, and power out of weakness: 1 Cor. 15. which we (who are perswa­ded of Gods making all things out of nothing) cannot ratio­nally want; nor therefore (when we reflect upon't) appre­hend, that God should suffer his creature to turn his goods in­to worse then nothing. For all evil presupposes a good, out of whose depravation that succeeds; and if any such should remain simply so, it would prove worse then nothing. Surely then if God could not derive new goods out of all the perver­sions of his creature, he would never have allow'd him a free­wil, whereby he might have detracted from his Creator: but he extracting successively new goods from every iniquitie of man, by the liberty of his enemies, effects his own immutable decrees. And so the number of evil actors no more lessens [Page 68] that of Gods goods, then the multitude of rain-drops, falling into the earth, diminishes the quantitie of the worlds element of water. Wherefore the holy Spirit (declaring this truth) sayes, If thou sinnest, what doest thou against God? or if thy transgressions be multiplyed, what doest thou against him?

Nay, let those who are perplex'd with the reason of Gods permitting such a multitude of mischiefs, consider well, and they shall find that many are of necessary consequence, from a few; because one sin is both the cause and the punishment of another; in respect of our becoming, by the first, less worthy of the divine aids and supports against the next temptation, towards which we are so much the more weakned by our for­mer fall: whence it follows, that God must either permit ma­ny, or none at all. But to enforce this satisfaction; let them weigh the evils God prevents, and they shall find them far ex­ceeding those he permits. What Prince in this our corrupted nature would not prove a Nero, or a Heliogabolus, either bestially cruel or sensual, did not Gods mercie restrain the flux of our inclinations? the goodness of his own nature opposing it self to the iniquitie of all ours. We may therefore, (methinks) better wonder men sin no more, then that they sin so much; which we must ascribe to Gods mercie, being above all his works. Nor is God like man, equally mov'd and affected with both opposites: for the contrary of what honors or delights man, proportionately affronts and afflicts him; but God (who in his own immutability orders all changes; he who is no greater for having produc'd two Persons as great as Himself, nor less for their being equal to him) can much less admit any accession or deduction from the relations of his creatures. But could we suppose any alteration in God, we might best al­low it by way of exaltation; and consequently, we may con­clude, that the goodness of man comes nearer adding to his honor, then his evil to the substracting from it: for all good­ness has a positive resemblance of God; which is a state of more excellence, then any evil (which is but a privative dissimili­tude to him) can be of unworthiness; Even annihilation in the [Page 69] creatures seems not to remove it so far from God, as sanctifica­tion approaches it: since, he that is joyn'd to the Lord, 1 Cor. 6.17. is one Spirit; whilst, what has no being, has but no opposition to him: otherwise the nullitie of creatures before the creation, would have been inconsistent with his Essence. This point is also resolv'd by the humanitie of Christ; by the merit and excellence whereof God is more honoured, then he is offended by the malice of all the reprobate Angels and men, from the Creation to the end of the world.

Why then (may some Divers in the deep of Providence say) doth God ordain no more good men and actions, whereof the raritie is so notorious; since he's so much honour'd by such divine resemblances? This question is not unlike that, Why God made not the world sooner? since we may imagine so many millions of years preceding in his eternitie, before the creation of the Universe, or any exteriour participation of his goodness. To this S. Augustine answers, that neither was God less good nor glorious before this emission of his good­ness, nor the Creation a new will in him; but that from eter­nitie, he determin'd the production of this Universe in that time it was formed, and the effect follow'd that eternal designation; wherefore the world was no sooner, because God ordain'd the existence of it in that point it was produc'd. So may I reply, There is no more rectitude and resemblance of God in this world, then he hath ordain'd from eternitie; con­currently with the gift of free-will to his creature, from the perversion whereof all deficiencie and dissimilitude from God arises: which yet by leaving in the power of man, he suffers him not to lessen the number of the goods pre-ordain'd: for out of all those works wherein the hand of the creature fails, in point of likening it self to God, he fails not to draw somewhat re­sembling himself; as what proves unlike his goodness, he renders conformable to his justice; and so the same strokes which take off from the image of one Attribute, work upon the finishing another. By which means, ev'n the self-disfigurement of the creature, tends to the perfection of his maker. So that it [Page 70] seems to me upon these reflections, they (who apprehend God may lose some goods, by the number of evils he permits) may as well imagine he lost much time before the Creation, in his being honour'd and glorified by his works. We may there­fore justly resolve this question, with the great experienc'd King in this point, Great are the works of God, and perfect in all his wills.

SECT. IV.
Whether Gods suffering many to fall them­selves finally, who have long liv'd holily, and by whose labours divers have been saved, doth not justly confuse and startle us, in our confidence of Providence?

VVHen I reflect upon the many mysterious forms, where­in the wisdom of God exposes it self to the consi­deration of man; methinks there may be many assimulations deriv'd from what the holy Spirit sayes of the Person of God, being in the form of Man, and easily adapted to the Providence of God among men: (which, being also the wisdom of God, in that respect is the same they were utter'd of.) We may therefore reverently say, Gods Providence converses upon earth in the habit and similitude of fortune; and seems expos'd to all the weakness and inequalitie of chance, bearing (sin only excepted) all the apparent infirmities of injustice; for, from the Creation of the world, in moral occurrences; he may be said, very frequently to hide and obscure his eternal power and God­head; as much as S. Paul sayes, he manifests it in his visible na­tural [Page 71] productions. And certainly, if faith did not assure us, that under the vail of humane confusion, the wisdom of God were subsisting; we might easily judge of his Providence, in many occasions, as the world did of Christs person, and con­demn it as a meer natural figure of fortune, destitute of all Di­vinitie. Wherefore this caution given against the misappre­hending the one, serves properly for our consideration of the other; Blessed is he who is not scandaliz'd in me.

And in this case we now treat, Gods Providence seems to stand charg'd with the like infirmitie that Christs Disciples were, at his being apprehended: for here God seems to aban­don those who have long and usefully follow'd and serv'd him, both by their proper acts and acquisitions of others: they who have had all the unclean spirits subjected to them, and Satan lying long under their feet; yet at last, in some strong temptation, have been suffer'd to be us'd by the same Spirit, like the sons of Scaeva, viz. overthrown and prevail'd upon, ev'n to a final perdition. Doth not this look like such a desertion on Gods part, as was reproachable in Christs Disciples, in his extremi­tie? and may not those Ministers, nay, (as S. Paul calls them) ev'n helpers of God, with more reason call to him in their storm, as Christs Disciples did to wake him, saying, Lord carest thou not if we perish? Do not these complaints of Gods old la­bourers (who have born the burthen and heat of the day) seem justly to perplex the enterers at the eleventh hour, and suggest to them diffidence of their being tended and preserv'd? This is a hard saying, and who can hear it? say many of the Caphar­naites, and fall back upon it. But methinks, this seeming in­consideration of God towards his ancient servants, may be an­swer'd, in the same manner as Christ did that which seem'd so excessive an estimation of his disciples, when he would needs wash their feet: so God may be alledged, saying to his con­founded questioners, What I do now you know not, Joh. 13.7. but you shall know hereafter. And upon this promise of future satisfaction, let us, with S. Peter, not only offer our feet, but ev'n our heads, to be us'd by God as he pleases; that is, not simply acquiesce [Page 72] to the Divine judgment upon others, but embrace his uncon­ceiveable order in point of our salvations: for those who are shaken and scandaliz'd at Gods order ev'n in this, which is one of the most seeming declinings of his equitie, at the best, incur Oza's trespass of incredulitie, when he saw the Oxen stum­ble, and the Ark lean towards a fall: and as his diffidence was severely punish'd, so all such wavering and vacillation of our confidence is in danger of some sharp resentment.

The same method we use to understand the mysterious parts of Gods Word, is the best we can hold to apprehend aright the mysteries of his Works: for as in the first, we interpret the obscure places by the clear ones; so in the last must we explain to our selves the dark passages of Providence, by the clear evi­dences we have of Gods goodness, wisdom, and equitie; where­of we have so many convincing demonstrations in divers clear expressions, that without being able to untie every knot and smooth out every particular fold of his Providence; we may conclude with S. Augustine, that As God, his conduct of his creature must be occult, but cannot be unjust. We must re­member, that God sees not transitory motions by successive acts, as we do; who behold alternatively the various sequen­ces of things in their course, not center'd in their term: the Divine Eye with one intuit [...]ve act, possesses the end, together with the means of all consequences; insomuch that the means seem so little to affect God, as we find them several times al­ter'd, ev n after his own prenunciation of them: as in many of his judgments denounc'd by his Prophets in the case of Nine­veh and Ezech as, this is evidenc'd; so that the end is only considerable to God, and fix'd in his sight: Wherefore if we could suppose that terminable, we might say it were stay'd and determin'd in the end of all things; His Spirit telling us, that his wisdom reaches from end to end mightily, Wisd. [...].1. and disposes all things sweetly: As the end is the only object whereon Gods sight may be said to be fix'd; the various incidents towards it may be conceiv'd, as all involv'd and made up into that figure which the concluding point exposes to his view: for as it is the passage [Page 73] of the last grain of sand which gives us the notion of that mea­sur'd time we apprehend, (the several effluxes running only to this last unitie, which is form'd as the term of all the others mo­tions: and for that cause our considerations stay not to reflect upon every single grains omission;) so much less doth God stay his sight upon the single efflux of actions, tending to their last end alwayes present to his omniscience.

Wherefore Judas waiting on Christs person, and working miracles in his mission; and Saul in defiance of him, taking a contrary Commission, were not look'd upon by God, respe­ctively to these their transient occupations; but with regard to their final designments.

For this reason the holy Spirit sayes, he considereth the end of every thing: whatsoever he sees by the way, he is said to consider only the end; and consideration imports a concern'd intendment, which a simple vision doth not include. Did not Christ kiss Judas at his separation, and strike S. Paul at his ad­mission? these acts look'd contrarie to their several ends, but seem not consider'd by God: no more do the passing vertues or vices of the Elect and Reprobate fall into Gods concern­ment; only their final State which is fix'd and permanent, rests in his consideration. So that Origen, when he pull'd out his eye that was in danger to scandalize him; and S. Augustine, while he cherish'd his eyes overflowing with the same scandal, (having them full of adultery, and not ceasing from sin) were lit­tle respected by God in these passages of their lives; nothing transitory (but as in order to its end) being worth His ani­madversion.

Gods admirable order disposes all the transient operations of his holy Spirit, towards the universal good he designs: for the holy Ghost passes through no body, without producing some special benefit; but many times he issues himself instrumental­ly through some, purposely to remain in others, to whom he was design'd. As S. Gregory notes, that the Divine Provi­dence sets forth many in the way of vertue, which never proceed to perfection; only that they may shew others the way, who [Page 74] are to arrive at the journeys end. And those conduits, that export thus the holy Ghost, act but the part of such Fonts that contain the waters of Baptism, which sanctifie those to whom they are communicated, not those who dispense them. As is finely observ'd by a spiritual Author, upon the threefold mission of the holy Ghost, in the Dove, in a Cloud, and in Fire; In three manners the holy Ghost has visibly appear'd; to some he is given as a gift, not for the use of the gift; to others for the use of the gift, not for a gift; and to some, both as a gift, and for the use of it: the first are good persons, but weak and imperfect, as to the communication of their goodness; the second, though interiourly corrupted and unsound, yet well qualified for the transport of good to others; and the third, both good and perfectly so, that is, fitted to multiply that qualitie. The first indeed, sigh only with a Dove-like simplicitie, breath pietie inward, not blow it abroad; the second, like Clouds water many, but themselves (after they have vented their moisture) are dryed up and dissipated by the wind of their own vain nature: but the third, at the same time kindle others, and are themselves in­flam'd with the aliment of that holy fire they impart; foment­ing in their own brests the incentives of love, while by the spi­ration of the holy Ghosts breath, they inflame their neigh­bors. These last are such as the holy Spirit terms, burning and shining lights: and S. Bernard sayes, they burn not that they may shine, but rather shine that they may burn: not exposing their abilities for shew and applause to themselves, but in order to the touching and affecting their neighbours, and improving their own zealous affections.

But of these other is our present question; of whom the Prophet may well be said to speak, when he saith, Who are these that fly like clouds? Isa. 16.8. and truly in these kind of clouds the Divine Providence seems the most obscur'd; such we may account Origen and Tertullian; who seem'd to be set as clouds over the heads of the Primitive Christians to shadow them from the ardors of persecution, and to water the faithful in the [Page 75] desart of those times; and yet were themselves at last dry'd up, & left void of that spiritual dew they had distild into the world. Such may, methinks, (following the Metaphor) be likened to those clouds, in which Christ seem'd to ascend into heaven; which carryed him out of the sight of his Disciples, but rose not so high as heaven with him: for in like manner, many (who for some time are zealous and active Ministers of Christi­anitie) carry Christ beyond the reach of the worlds sight, their disciples not being able to discern, where they sever and part themselves from him; though they pass not up to his rest and station, as not persevering to the end, which is requir'd for their rising as high as heaven. And thus the time and man­ner of their division from God, in these supposed eminent fol­lowers of Christ, will remain cover'd and obscur'd to the nea­rest inspections into their lives and conversations.

S. John himself gives no clearer accompt concerning the defection of those deserters he complains of, then this,1 Joh. 1.9. They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would no doubt have remain'd with us: he offers the per­plexitie of that tender age of Christianitie no clear satisfaction in point of the reason of such prevarications; only declares they were not really conjoin'd, where they appear'd to be. And surely, our intellectual sight is no less deceiveable in distant ob­jects, then our corporal, to which things sever'd seem conti­guous: For, as a Tower standing but near a Church, may ap­pear to us afar off, ev'n the Steeple of that Church, though it be indeed at a good distance from it; so may the eye of our mind easily be mistaken in looking at that distance, we needs must, upon the spirits of others; and apprehend them united and conjoin'd to that truth and sinceritie from which they are really distant and unadhering. It is therefore a safe advice, (considering the errableness of our judgments, when extended to foreign and remote subjects) to contain them, as much as may be, within those terms where they may be exercis'd with the most certaintie, which is, in our own interiour State; and to point them to that mark whither they may carry level [Page 76] (as it were) and so much the surer, that is, to the univer­sal justice and equitie of God: and not mount them up­ward, to make them carry at randome; aiming at the far­thest discoveries our discourse can reach to, in point of the cause of such effects, wherein our reason goes backward in effect, by the same degrees it hopes to advance: so unreason­able a thought is it to attempt such penetrations: which savour much of the Bethsamites proceedings with the Ark, the blessing of whose presence they lost by a precipitate cu­riositie.

As the intellect of man is (after the manner) born of full age, as to some possessions, which are so connatural, that at the first time it acts upon them, it enjoyes them as fully as in any sequence of discourse. (These are principles known by the light of Nature, as soon as propos'd:) so me­thinks, there are some Propositions may be said manifestly unintelligible, in the same degree the others are evident; namely, the Councels of Gods Order and Providence in the government of his rational Creatures; the comprehension whereof, seems at the first proposal, as plainly impossible, as the conclusion of the whole to be greater then the part is no­torious and unmistakeable. And the defection, of some emi­nent Commissioners and Ministers of God, seems to me as in­comprehensible, as any other notion is evident: Where­fore we ought no more to endeavour a clearing it to us by discourse upon it, then we argue to induce the consent to principles impress'd upon us by the light of Nature: So that enlightned Job confesses, in point of discernment of Gods Order,Job. 9.11. If he come to me, I shall not see him; if he depart, I shall not understand.

After S. Augustine had made a long and studious disquisi­tion of the Nature of Time; he resolv'd that though he had form'd some notion of it satisfactory to himself, yet if he were requir'd to impart that satisfaction to another, he could not hope for the same conclusion: so truly, after all my dis­cussions of this question, albeit I my self rest fully perswaded, [Page 77] that the reprobation of persons very remarkable for merits in the eyes of the World, calls not into doubt the equitie of Providence: yet can I not promise my self to have left my Readers in the same satisfactory acquiescence. Notwith­standing I may hope to offer some useful reflections from this subject, to all sorts of Persons.

To the best and most confirm'd in pietie, I send this Ani­madversion, that they have their treasure in earthen vessels; 2 Cor: 4.7. and by consequence, how tenderly they ought to carry it, both in regard of the value of the contain d, and the vilitie of the continent. And surely the presuming Libertines, who (as if they were the principal guests, and ought to be stay'd for) assign their own time to come to the great Supper, may fitly be presented with this consideration,1 Pet. 4.1 [...]. If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly, and sinner appear? Where­fore, such shall do well (in stead of wondring how persons of eminent vertues and graces, can be finally reprobated by God) to begin to wonder how notorious neglecters of his grace can be, at last, recall'd and reconcil'd to so offended a God; remembring that sharp menace,Luk 23 If this be done to a green tree, what shall be done to the dry one? These meditati­ons naturally issue and run to the right hand and to the left, from this head; and may properly refresh and secundate ev'n the best mould they fall upon, as well as soften and unparch the dryest and barrennest earth they pass over. And as I offer these derivements from this subject, to raise our affections up­ward; so to restrain the aspiring of our understandings towards this transcendent mystery, I present this writ of inhibition from the holy Spirit, God will not hear without cause, Job 35.13. and the omnipotent will behold the causes of every one; yea when thou shalt say he considers not, be judg'd before him, and expect him.

SECT. I.

HAving been advertis'd upon what sort of times we ought not to employ our inqui­sitiveness; it follows now properly to in­form you unto what kind we are injoin'd to assign our studious solicitude. For as we advance not towards the discovery of Gods times by any intendment of our in­dustry; so we make a continual progress towards the comprehension of the nature and design of our own, by our sedulitie and application. Wherefore our Saviour Christ (who rejected the desire of his Disciples in the one, with It is not for you to know the times or the seasons, Act. 1.7. which the Father hath put in his power) recommended thus unto them, the pur­suance and inquest of the other; Watch therefore and pray, be­cause you know not at what hour you shall be call'd upon. According to which, though Almighty God hath left it very hard to give a right and full definition of Time, yet has he lay'd very evident the making a right disposition of it: for ev'n the obscuritie of the one, conduces to the discernment of the other; by reason [Page 84] that the continual flux and inconsistencie, which renders the comprehension of it so abstruce, directs us the more sensiblie to a continual attention to the moral passage of it.

We may therefore lose Time by looking it away; as many have done by too long inquisitions into the natural Being of it: not unlike the Dog in the Fable, letting goe the substance to catch at the shadow. For surely the end of our time may be term'd the substance of it, in respect whereof the motion seems but the shadow; the natural apprehension of Time being but as the measure of motion; whereas the moral notion of it, is as the medium of rest, which is as much worthier then motion, as the substance excels the shadow: wherefore to this substantial part of Time, namely, the Christian use of it, we shall assign all our inquisitions.

Philosophie (to indear to us the value of time) tells us, that we have nothing but that we can account our own: we are but tenants at will to fortune in all our other possessions; owners and proprietaries only of time. But Christianitie leaves us not in this loose notion of it, as an arbitrary proprietie: it gives us a clearer evidence towards the right use thereof, by in­forming us what kind of proprietie we have in it; namely, that it is ours, rather in the nature of spiritual goods, then of secular: for we are but usufructuaries, without right of alienati­on, because the stock truly belongs to the Church, and reports to the method of Ecclesiastical revenues, whereof part is allot­ted to the support of the person benefic'd, according to his qualitie; and part to pious uses. We may say, the time of a Christian is thus portion'd, the best part due to his inte­rior religious duties, part to the compliance with his exterior vocation, and part assign'd to the foreign necessities of our neighbour; insomuch as we receive this talent upon obliga­tion of improvement; and those only who are able to shew their gain, shall enjoy the fruits of it, when Time it self shall be no more.

If we are not then allow'd so much as to burie this Talent, [Page 85] that is, to let the hour-glass of our life run out in a drowsie in­difference, not fowling much, but not weighing at all the sands thereof; if this management of Time will not pass the great Audit, what can they expect who are continually pawning it for all the vanities they can take up upon it? for which, when they are to engage nothing but their Time, they stick at no proportion requir'd: Insomuch that it passes for a good qua­litie, to be able to pass away our time for the most of this worlds commodities; and they are accounted the most dex­terous, who can get the most credit with the world, only upon the caution of their Time; such being best esteem'd, for whose single company the world will give the most of those vain commodities it exchanges. What can such hope for, when they have no Time left, and besides owe for all they have made of the past? Can they conceive to forfeit less then all that remains for reprizal upon them; which is no less then their eternitie?

But the greatest part of these ill husbands presume they do not absolutely forfeit the Time they thus boldly morgage, be­lieving they may redeem it when they please, upon this favour­able clause in the bond, At what time soever a sinner repents him of his sins, from the bottome of his heart, they shall be remit­ted: but they little consider the strictness of this condition; namely, of the bottome of his heart; they think not on the depth they are to sound; nor on the time it requires to dive into the bottom of mans heart, from whence this repentance must be drawn; which will be accepted for the redemption of his Time.

For though there should be nothing but straws or chaff, (that is, vanitie rather then vice) to obstruct the passage; yet ev'n they will ask more time then we can conceive (while our ima­gination is thus obstructed) to be remov'd and cast out: for that kind of levitie naturally descends into our hearts, and is not from thence drawn upward without much violence, by the force of grace. If of our selves we cannot get so far as a good thought, which lies but in the superficies of our heart, why [Page 86] should we think a little time will serve to reach ev'n to the cen­ter of it, from whence we must extract that repentance which must be offer'd for ransome of our pretious Time? Wherefore, upon this summons of the holy Spirit,Isa. 46.8. (Return ye transgressours to your heart,) S. Gregory sayes, that the Prophet sends the sinner far back, when he commands him to his own heart; for commonly he has stray'd so far, and inconsiderately abroad, that he has much adoe to find his way home. Let not there­fore these inconsiderate presumers account it an easie retro­gression into the bottom of it, since ev'n the heart it self of a sin­ner, when it is sought for, is not easily retriv'd.

How deplorable then is this error of the world, where those who have most Time to spare, conceive their parts to be, only to cut off, and shorten it, as if it were the only enemie they were set to defeat, and this the sole warfare of their life upon earth? Doth not this seem the opinion of Courts, where our great enemie the Prince of the air, is commonly entertain'd as the chief Engineer for inventions to make away our Time? inso­much, as there, the Philosophers reproach seems notoriously incurr'd, that A great part of our life slips away in our doing nothing, a greater in doing ill, and all in doing somewhat else then what we should do. This will easily be verifi'd to those, who remember this declaration of the holy Spirit, of what we have to doe in this life;2 Cor. 5.15. Christ dyed for all, that those who live, should not live to themselves, but to him who dyed for them: which refers to all vocations that claim any interest in the death of Christ. How do they then correspond to this injuncti­on, that assign all their time to their own solaces? and yet how many (whom God hath left most to doe, to thank him for these fruits which his benefits bear them, of ease and leasure) seem the most troubled what to do with their time; when this so smooth and polish'd leasure they look upon, might well re­flect to them (were they not too dim-sighted) a debt, which challenges that loose time for the discharge of it? This is therefore a fair means for those, who (by Gods special benigni­ty) abound in time, unapply'd to their vocation, to secure them­selves [Page 87] from any wearisomness, viz. to remember they have more work to thank God for this very vacancie, then they can possibly discharge in that time, which seems redundant to their weak minds. And by this thought, the very time they have to spare, will shew them rather their want, then superfluitie of it. And when they consider what truth it self tells us, that our whole life is but ev'n A vapour that appears for a little, James 4.15. and then vanishes away; they will not so easily make it their business to raise artificial fires to rarifie and hasten this vapours dissi­pation.

If those whose chief thought is how to pass away their time, were told, that they were studying how to shorten their lives; this would seem to them a precise speculation, not a positive truth: and yet this is commonly true, as to their natural life, by reason of those unhealthful disorders which they make their pastimes; but as to their supernatural, it is so manifest, that themselves scarce dispute it. Notwithstanding, since they can­not deceive themselves by that mistake, they will do it by this mis-perswasion, that they shall have time left to recover this ill husbandry; as if it were as much in their power to recall time, as to cast it away: nay more, it seems to them the ea­sier work; for they presume to redeem ev'n years with hours: such a bargain do they impose upon God, who, though some­times out of his infinite goodness, he accepts such compensa­tions, yet is it never upon pre-contract, as these negotiators seem by their dilatorie confidence to have agreed. Wherein they proceed more like Courtiers of Felix, then Converts of S. Paul: Act. 24 for when they are frighted with the thoughts of justice, chastity, and the judgment to come, they desire their consciences to leave troubling them for the present, and say they will call back those considerations in convenient time; but commonly they find that convenient time, no more then Felix did to recal S. Paul. Besides these, there are some who for the present, disclaim any inclination towards this Providence, yet will notwithstanding, entitle themselves to the priviledge of some rare examples. But they who account upon the good Theef's recovery of his time, [Page 88] as a precedent for their hopes, may as well conceive, that the way to become a King, is to goe into the field to seek Asses, because Saul was chosen in that action; this other imperti­nence being really no less, since their pretence is to a greater Crown, by as improbable a tittle; for, such extraordinary graces of God are demerited, by nothing more then by mans presuming to dispose of them. Wherefore God (after having forborn King Manasses fortie years, and staid for his repen­tance) cut off his son Amon in the first two years of his out­ragious impieties: the reason whereof is well conceiv'd by a grave Author, That the son presum'd upon Gods patience and long suffering with his father, and resolv d to redeem the offen­ces of his youth by a late repentance; which assignment God was not pleas'd to accept. Let us therefore, in the instant of all our good purposes, remember this excellent truth of S. Gre­gory, He who hath promis'd pardon to all penitents, hath not pro­mis'd to stay a day for their repentance.

SECT. II.
Mans debt of his Time may be discharg'd by his regular distribution of it.

TO be strongly affected with the pretiousness of our time, we must seriously ponder this truth, that we had forfeited the blessing of eternitie; ev'n before we had enjoy'd one mo­ment: and that God himself was pleas'd to enter into the tran­sitory indignitie of time, and give us many of his years, to re­estate us in a capacitie of redeeming our eternitie by the appli­cation of our time: so that they who intend to recover their eternal loss, cannot suppose the means to be their diverting of what they only have, to pay for their re-investure. Wherefore [Page 89] the time of a Christian seems to be set out upon this extent, to satisfie the debt owing upon the redemption of his Eternitie: and yet such is the goodness of our Creditor, that all our hours are not sequestred from our private disposings, and assign'd to the acts or thoughts of religious discharges; but whatsoever is laid out upon every ones secular vocation, is receiv'd too into accompt. So that a Courtier may discharge part of his debt by his waiting-hours, as well as a regular by his Canonical; and he that eats his bread in the sweat of his brow, discounts off his sum, as well as he that macerates himself with the hunger and thirst of righteousness in his Cell. For the most laborious vocations have all that time required for their offices, pass'd upon their accompt; the hours requisite for our respective cal­lings, being the assignments our Redeemer himself has made of our Time: the foot discharges its duty as well by being in the dirt sometimes, as the eye doth by being clean. From whence it follows, that those to whom God leaves most of their time unassign'd to exterior actions, are to pay in the more to his pri­vate use, in offices of Religion and Pietie, by this his Ordi­nance, To whom most is given, most shall be required of them.

God therefore, exacts not the payment of our time all in one species of actuall devotion, provided there be an habitual refe­rence of it to him, There is a time to laugh, and a time to weep; for mirth and jollitie, as well as meditation and recollection. And our recreations (which seem but cyphers) are brought into the reckoning, when the figure of their habitual direction to this accompt is set to them: such kind of unconsider­ing refreshments being provided ev'n by God, for the mind's sleep and repose; which disposes it the better for exercise, sup­posing them to be taken so orderly, that they may relax only, not ravel out the contexture of our dayes work; mistaking which end, to apply our thoughts to nothing, but barely the passing of our time, (though it be in harmless amusements,) is to take a kind of opium; to keep our minds as it were in a con­tinual lethargie, rather then in a refreshing libertie, in order unto our chief application.

Hence it is, that they who consider the pretiousness and scar­citie of time, make it their study how to stay it, as it were, in passing; which is to be done after the manner that corporal reflections are made, by staying the light from passing through a diaphanous body; because transparent matters retain not the images set before them. And not unlike to this, we may, as it were, stop time, (then which there's nothing more tran­sparent) interposing some solid thoughts in the passage of it: by which we draw reflections thence, of all those good species that are inserted into the motion of it. But whilst we set no serious considerations in the way of it, our time passes away (as light doth through a clear transparencie) reflecting no re­presentation of the lightness and inanitie of all things fluent and transitorie.

The world is apt enough to make one kind of glass of their time, using it as a Prospective, to explore and discover tem­poral dangers which have any appearance of assaulting their fortunes: as soon as any such enemy appears within distance of our speculation, we set all our time to look forward towards the clear discernment of those remote perils. And as at this end of the glass we approach to our view remote probabili­ties; so looking often at the other end, we distance and re­move from our apprehensions, very near possibilities of more important dangers; namely, the end and cessation of our time: which possible hazard, though it be as near as every succeeding moment, yet commonly appears at a great distance to our apprehension. These two ill uses the world makes of time, by way of a Prospective glass: Wherefore I propose this good one, derivable from it in the nature of a Mir­ror or reflecting-glass, to set before it often this image of the life of man made by the holy Spirit, viz. its be­ing but a shadow, a dream, a vapour; and when it reflects to us our life under these notions, we shall sooner be in fear of the ceasing, then in thought for the passing of our time.

How strangely incongruous is this practice of the world, [Page 91] to be alwayes confessing and complaining of the frailty of our life, and yet living as if we were immortal; casting that away of which we lament the scarcitie, and providing for the dura­bleness of that whereof we acknowledge the impermanencie? And do not they act these parts, who are thoughtful only how to pass their time, and to establish their fortunes? What would we say of one who having his veins cut, to bleed to death, were making his horoscope in stead of his confession? Yet may not this be said the case of those, who seeing the continual elapse and expiration of their time, are studying to know what shall become of it? Did ever any person in a dangerous sickness put out his estate for term of life? and yet in this evident uncertain­tie of our time to come, we are often putting out not only our present, but ev'n our pleasant possession of it, upon protracted expectations. Is not this venture made by such who are in painful pursuits and purchases of not only ungodly, but un­likely reversionarie pleasures? never thinking of the course of time, which runs on incessantly, as to the consum­ption of our life, but not to the carriage of it, so far as we have bargain'd for the term of our future posses­sion.

These precautions are suggested to us ev'n by simple natu­ral prudence; which from the mouth of the Philosophers, ad­vises us to draw of Time as of a torrent, which runs not long by us; and out of which we must store our reserve, providing against that shall be pass'd and exhausted. Let those then (who in stead of laying it up in conserves for that provision, are draw­ing of it, only to make bathes for their present solace and de­licacie) remember Dives; who (after having done nothing but bathe and anoint his body in this torrent) came quickly to languish for a drop of water. O what would not the prodi­gals of Time in that case, give for some grains of that sand, which seem'd too many to them while they were passing here­tofore through their hour-glasses? While they may therefore, by laying it up, convert that sand into incorruptible treasure; Let [Page 92] them consider and esteem those grains, not for what they are, but what they may be made: and since we cannot stop the hole they run through now, let our cares and attentions run along with them to gather all we can in this their passage; by this means our hours goe not from us, whilst we goe along with them. And since we are so convinc'd of the velocitie of time, let us match it with our celeritie in making beneficial uses of it; for as S. Augustine sayes elegantly, He only may be said Master of time, who in the swiftest current of it, layes such founda­tions as are not transitory.

Prosperitie is accompanied with one, no small prejudice, (as to the keeping a good accompt of time) by having no sensible marks, that remonstrate the swift flux and decursion of our hours. For as while the Sun runs through an ev'n and cloudless skie, we hardly perceive the motion till it meet some cloud, through which as it passes, we discern more sensibly the past course and progression: so in the motion of our time, as long as it is passing through the serenitie of this lower element, in various temporal felicities; we little think of the swiftness and haste it makes, through this fair way to an end and expiration; but when it meets with some unequal and obscure intervention, through which it is to be transported, then we reflect upon that velocitie wherewith it flew in those elaps'd occurrences; and we perceive how unlasting and momentary those vanish'd de­lights were in their past transition.

SECT. III.
Advices to the happy ones of this world, to attend the passage of their time.

COnsidering the aptness of transitory happiness to deceive us in the transitoriness of our time; the motion whereof is rendred insensible, by the stilness and ease of our senses, while their appetites are carry d smoothly forward in this motion; it imports the easie and prosperous lives of this age, to apply the most attentive vigilancie to the consideration of their time. And those familiar watches we use to set to bring the hours before us as they pass (I mean our clocks) may be of excel­lent use; if we design them, not only as civil servants, but as militant Sentinels, to advertise us every hour, that the enemie is advanc'd a step upon us. For truly death (as being come nearer us) may be said to speak louder and louder to us in every suc­ceeding clock; and those who mark it, may hear his voice, whilst by this reflection the striker of every bell, becomes as it were a tongue set into a Deaths-head, shrilly allarming our ears each hour with fresher news of his approach. And as every toling bell may be said to be the clock of death, so every clock may be term'd, not unaptly, the Passing bel of time, which tells us the expiring of the last hour; by which our thoughts may antici­pate the like in all that are to come: If the passages then were open and unobstructed between our ears and our hearts, the sound of every bell might seem to articulate these words, The time past is dead, the present dying, the future doubtful of ever li­ving to you: and sure (if these alarms were heard as often as they ring) they would keep those more awake, then they seem to be, who slumber away the most part of their life, resting, by the repletion of their senses. Are we not advis'd to watch conti­nually, because we know not at what hour of the watch the enemy [Page 94] comes? but though we do sleep in the intervals, yet how much a greater shame is it not to wake when we are call'd upon and told that he is advanc'd? wherefore the missioners of France (who are living marks of a true Apostolical succession) seek to establish this practice in all places where they teach, that persons of all conditions, make some short address to God, at the striking of every clock. Which act is consistent with the imployment of all vocations, and conducing much to the com­plying with our chief calling of Christian, without diversion of our secondary duties: for in some it induces a pious familia­ritie with God, and carries the thought of him along in the pursuit of their business in hand; and for the common sort, (whose callings seem to weigh and depress their thoughts down to the earth) these little intervenient raisings of their minds upward keep them from growing crooked by standing so continually stooping and declined, which is but necessary: For though it be not required that persons of all Callings have their minds, for the most part, actually erected towards hea­ven; yet is it requisite to keep them habitually straight, that when the due seasons demand the raising them towards God, their shape may appear in a fair and becoming rectitude.

And because this practice is, in my opinion, very service­able, as to the enducing a good habit of mind towards the pre­sence of God; I humbly recommend to every one that shall vouchsafe to read this petition, the giving some little short an­swer to the call of every clock, which seems to summon them to give God some acknowledgment of the hour past: though we do but set our hand anew to the bond of our Redemption, signing to Christ the debt we acknowledge to his Cross, yet ev'n this little hourly recognition of the mercie of the time past, may procure us more credit then we imagine for the time to come.

And as for those who are so much masters of their dayes, that they attend not to the publick account of time, but reckon by their own private measures which they carry about them; let me beseech them, as often as they take measure of the day [Page 95] by those artificial motions, to pass on forward with their thoughts as far as to the first mover; suffering not the ratio­nal nature to be less faithful in the accompt of his time to his Maker, then the inanimate matter is to his master: and if our Watches do us this good office of carrying our minds towards God upon their motions, ev'n when they goe false for Time, they will goe true for eternitie. And this is a better use then we usually make of our Watches, especially such as wear them rather for their matter then their motion, and more to pass their time, then to reckon it; using indeed their time it self no otherwise then their Watches, whilst they esteem it more for the fair and pleasant outside, then for the propertie and uses. Thus happily, this light mark set upon the fancie of some of my Readers, may make more impression then a more weighty pre­cept lay'd upon their conscience, whereof there are many, upon this subject, too heavie for Courtiers to carry about them; but this is so portable, as I may hope it may be admitted ev'n into that nice societie.

How careless is the world in giving a good accompt to God of their time, and yet how curious in making Time give a just accompt of it self to them? Art hath found means to set such Spyes and Watches on the Sun, that he cannot look out, but they take hold (as I may say) of his shadow and stay that, forcing it to tell them how far he is gone that day. And who does not hearken to the natural Sun's voice, when he cries, La­bour while you have light, the night comes when no body can work? This warning all the negotiators of the age take, and thereby measure their intendments: may not then this re­proach of our Sun of righteousness be fitted to this practice of the world, when the Sun speaks to you in his own name, then you receive and believe his advertisements; but what he saith to you in the Creators name that sent him, finds no regard or attention in you? for all the informations the Sun brings us, (as to the natural course of our dayes, as also the seasons and properties of our years) are carefully observ'd; and this is as speaking to us in his own name: but for those intellectual ad­vertisements [Page 96] he offers us, (as the being a visible figure of that spiritual light allow'd us to finish our spiritual works; since the motion and remove of the Sun is a continual remembrancer of that eternal night, which is running so swiftly towards us) how seldome do these suggestions, presented in the name of his Creatour, how seldom find they our serious animadver­sion?

How prudent then! nay how blessed are they whose studies have taken so rightly the elevation of their spiritual Pole, that their hours are drawn like so many lines upon every day where­on the Sun of righteousness marks the moral motion of their time. In proportion to whom by practising upon our Watches, as I have propos'd, we may by degrees come to make them celestial Dials, drawing from them an accompt of the moving of Gods Spirit in our souls. Of such celestial Mathematicians it is S. Gregory sayes, Time runs on, but carries not away the righte­ous man because it cannot lift him up.

The fluentness and inconsistencie of time has not this incon­venience, to deny us the taking a dimension of it; which (as I have said) every one attends, and thereby rules and propor­tions his business, his recreations and his religious duties; wherefore God too, to whom we owe all time, seems in this world to stand to our discretion, for what time we will allow him; nay, rather like a Suitor then a Soveraign, he sayes him­self he is content to stand at the door and knock to see if we be at leasure; and we ordinarily account our selves respectful enough to him, if we let him into our thoughts morning and evening, though ev'n then it be custom that admits him, rather then con­sideration that seeks him. In Courts does not God seem to be lodged only in the Chappel, coming seldom abroad into any of the other rooms of State or Councel? as 'tis the time assign'd of course to the Chappel, that carries the Courtiers thither, to­wards Gods presence; whereto they scarce make any free-will-offering of their own time, though God makes this advantagi­ous offer to them, which is verifi'd in nothing more precisely, then in this particular of our time, Give and it shall be given [Page 97] unto you, a good measure pressed down, and running over into your bosome; for the exchange propos'd is no less then Eter­nitie.

To such therefore as shall be perswaded by these considera­tions, to exchange ev'n what they cannot keep for what they can never lose; I will recommend a very profitable method for this commerce: which is, to assign some of their best mo­ments to this negotiation, namely, the first of every morning as soon as they find their souls (as I may say) quick in their bodies, since every mornings waking is an image of our first animation, as every nights sleep is of our expiring; for surely the first born of our souls are most specially due to their Crea­tor, which was insinuated by Gods claim to all the material primogenitures. And of the spiritual issues of our lives, these first-births of every day, are the fittest to be offer'd; not only as they are of obligation, but as of most benefit to our selves: for this first motion of our wills may easily dispose and apply our fancie, before the seducing spirit (which alwayes watches) hath presented it with any light images to play with; who when he thus finds the holy Spirit possess [...]d of his avenues, will be fain to goe, at least, a great way about, before he can get into our apprehensions. Now sleep naturally allays and stills the storms of our passions which rise in our fancies (that emo­tion which continues in sleep, deserving rather to be called air stirring, then wind blowing, because it disorders not our rea­son) so that the morning finds our minds much calmer and ev'ner, then after the imagination hath stirr'd up the sensitive appetite, by such species as incense that turbulent part of the soul. Wherefore before this discomposure and division of the souls faculties, the morning must needs be the fittest time to look upon it in the most united and entire condition; and con­sequently the properest to offer it to God, who demands the whole heart, mind, and strength of man

Moreover, some few grains of incense will perfume the Tem­ple of the holy Ghost, more then a far greater proportion, af­ter it hath been annoy'd with ill savours: wherefore in this first [Page 98] vacuitie of our awaking minds, before any vain images have breath'd their air into the fancie, I would recommend the firing this gr [...]n of incense in the temple, namely, the repeating this word Eternitie twice or three with an attentive consideration. (For meth nks it may not be unfi [...]y call'd a Spiritual Mercurie, being of so subtile a nature, as we can hardly take it into our mouths but it will fly and disperse [...]t self into all the vains of our hearts, and produce some operation:) and I may safely promise, that this li [...]tle grain, which may properly be term'd the se [...]d of the kingdom of God,) though it seems so small when it is f rst cast into our thoughts, will grow up by degrees to spread-such branches, as ev'n the highest speculations may build their nests in them; for the thought of Eternitie, when it takes root and spreads in our meditation, is able to bear and support the whole frame of speculative and practical devotion. Wherefore if Courtiers could be perswaded to carry the thought of Eternitie abroad with them into the usually in­fected air they breath in; I dare say they would find it an ex­cellent preservative against the common contagions of transi­torie vanities: For certainly, wheresoever the serious conside­ration of [...]t (which may aptly be called our Ark of alliance with God) shall be placed, all the Idols of temporary trifles, will by degrees, like Dagon, not only lose their hands, but ev'n their heads by this conjunction; And when endlessness and ever­lastingness is set, in our thoughts, by things uncertain to last one moment, and cert in to end within a very few; these two notions compared together, will easily reclaim any reasonable mind, first from vain act ons, and then from such affections and desires: after which manner we may break off both the hands and the head of the worlds Idol. I will therefore leave this Soveraign confection of King David at the beds head of Courtiers, for them to take every morning at their waking; All other things perish; Ps. 101 but thou O Lord art the same, and thy age passeth not away

Having given the mind this breakfast; besides that time of the day which custome assigns for spiritual refection, I will [Page 99] re-mind you of that motion of making some little pauses at every clock, whether by a mental only, or some manifest Act, as the present occasion allows: Which little Parenthesis needs not be so long, as to break the sense of our present action, and yet its gain of time will be very important. By these steps our thoughts descend easily to our evenings recollection of our whole days employment; which is as requisite for all, who intend to keep an accompt of their time, as a Journal to a Register. This review and abridgment of the day, keeps the value of our time alwayes in our eye; and as it is truly said of Play, that no body loses so much that playes but ready mony, as those who run upon the score; so certainly those who look upon the time they lose, never run out so much, as those who goe upon trust with their souls from one confession to another without this dayly recollection, which keeps the time ready currant before their minds. And without doubt the life of a Christian should be govern'd like the course of a Seaman, who keeps quotidian reckonings from every elevation he takes; whereby he judges of his advances and deviations in his voyage. So we by this dayly observation and accompt of our time, come to know whereabouts we are in our spiritual course. Another great benefit results from this method, which is the bringing us acquainted with our selves, who are very often the greatest strangers we converse with in the world; for our faultie Nature commonly seeks to thrust us into a croud of other fa­miliarities, that we may not easily distinguish her particular faults; there is an application in the world call'd the study of men, much esteem'd; yet usually our selves, the only person in the world we are bound to know, is the least studied by us. O that they who cast away so much time upon their glasses, would learn that for the most part, they are there disguising themselves to themselves; whereas this other mental reflecti­on, I propose, shall do the quite contrary, viz. give them a true representation of themselves, and ev'n the finding themselves advance in years by this recollecting mirror, shall be rather a delight then a displeasure; for time as it runs away, shall bring [Page 100] new beauties to that mind, which is solicitous in this dayly re­view of it self. Wherefore this constant survey of our consci­ences is commonly propos'd, not only in order to proficiencie, but ev'n to perseverance in true Christianitie.

When I reflect upon the common strain and composition of the world, I conclude it most useful for the close of this dis­course, to combat this familiar abuse of our presuming upon the recoverableness of time; which many accompt upon sim­ply by their own intending it; as if a good purpose very re­motely assign'd, were securitie enough for this redemption. How many are there who think it sufficient to allot their old age for this assignation? which is methinks the same thing, as to bid a Creditor provide to pay himself, for God must fur­nish his own assignment. How foolish an ingratitude is this, to give from God all we are in possession of, and to expect he should be invited to give us much more for the redemption of our forfeit? Let those who design this recovery, consider how improbable this project is, (supposing that voluntary sorrow and repentance is the least they can conceive to offer for this ransome,) to allot a time for this work, wherein naturally we can do nothing but grieve and lament our infirmities and miseries, to wit, in our old age or our accidental sickness, which illegitimates all the species of sufferance, by effacing the mark that only renders it currant with God; that is, the stamp of our own voluntary election: for as there is no time lost but by a free engagement, so there is none to be recover'd, but by voluntary penalties. Wherefore to design old age or sickness for satisfaction of our youthful debts, is as if a Merchant should account his Creditor satisfi'd, by a shipwrack or some other ruine of his estate. Let us not therefore incur this absurd impro­vidence, but by the warning of God himself, let us (while we have it) redeem the time, because the dayes are evil: and since Christ hath told us, the ill of every day is too much for it self; let us not venture to put wilfully the evils of many dayes toge­ther, but make every day provide for it self by this quotidian spiritual Audit and recollection.

Oh how admirable is the infinite mercie of God, who sayes, All the day long have I stretch'd forth my hands to people that believ'd me not; answering to that of the Lord will make more stay, not come as yet. What wonder then if he come at last like a Thief in the night and destroy us? for he that for a while is content to stand at the dore and knock, cannot be kept out when he will break in upon us; and at that terrible instant how many millions of pleasant years would we exchange for the respite of one sorrowing minute?

I will therefore propose to all the rejoicers in the loss of their time, either absolutely to resolve never to intend the recovery of their lost time; or else as soon as they do resolve it, to be­gin; since few will wholly resign their right to a happy eter­nitie, and yet the most part do actually, that which intentio­nally they disclaim. For, Now, while it is call'd to day, is the acceptable time, we only are assured of: and only to the spiri­tual oeconomie of such Stewards, who watch every day for the coming of their Master, this reward is promis'd, Blessed is he whom when the Lord comes he shall find doing thus, for he will set him over all his goods; which are no less then eternal. Where­upon the holy Bishop of Geneva was wont to give this advice; Let us be so faithful in the management of our time, that God may be invited to trust us with his eternitie; in confirmation of which Councel, I will add this of God himself,Eccles. 51.38. Work your work betimes, and he will give you your reward in his time.

SECT. I.
Of the Nature and Malignitie of Venial Sin.

THose who set this Watch we have prescrib'd upon their hours, may be truly said to disappoint the Enemie of his seed-time; leaving him little night by this regular vi­gila [...]cie and attention to the p [...]ssage of their dayes. By which means, his plants th [...]t are mortally venomous, m [...]y be kept from taking roo [...]. Yet are there certain noysome weeds, (which the rankness of our earth doth natural­ly produ [...]e, si [...]ce it was acc [...]sed which, though they do not quite choak the good gr [...]in▪ yet substract [...]ch from that ali­ment w [...]ereo [...] depe [...]d [...] the thriving and growth of it: where­fore it foll [...]w [...] now [...]pp si [...]ely to give some dir [...]ctions in order to the weeding of these noxious excrescencie [...].

Such I may properly t [...]rm all our inord [...]nate p [...]sions and [Page 103] affections, that trespass never so little against our rule of loving God and our neighbour; but exceed not so far, as to break off the love du [...] to either, though they bow it somewhat from the straightness of that Precept, which is the rule and square of it. Of this kind are all our over-sharp angers, or animosities, and all sorts of inordinate appetences, either mental or corporal; which I refer to the title of Passions: and under the notion of aff [...]ctions, I understand all loves and desires apply'd ev'n to licit obj [...]cts, but exceeding in measure the mean prescrib'd by right reason; which must consequently be some offence against God the Fountain and supreme Being of Reason; and though not so much as to incur His greatest anger, denounc'd against the full violation of his precepts, yet sufficient to de­serve his dislike. Which difference Divines express thus; that those sins which turn our faces directly backward from the way of eternal life, are mortal, as tending to eternal death: Those which do but digress and stray a little out of it, (without the other retrogradation) are venial, that is, pardonable; as ad­judged only to temporal penalties for expiation. The last therefore do but divert our souls from the straightness of their course, by some little bending and deflection towards the creature; the other totally avert them by an absolute conve [...]si­on to the creature, fully opposite to the commandments of the Creator; and by this direct opposition, must consequently tend to an eternal separation from God.

Our laws have terms very proper to explain the distinction between these two sorts of sin. There are some crimes we call capital, and others penal: to this last head, all lesser breaches of the law are referr'd under the notion of misdemeanours, which are not sentenc'd to death, but other temporary punish­ments: So that I conceive Venial sins are significantly ex­press'd to us, by this term of spiritual misdemeanors; under which notion S. Paul comprises these lighter peccancies, of which he admonisheth the Corinthians, I fear when I come, I shall not find you such as I would; lest there be debates, envyings, 2 Cor. 12 20. wraths, strifes, whisperings, swellings; that is, little pettie ill [Page 104] offices, or trivial vanities; all which are trespasses against the Divine Justice, but not offences that incur capital punishment. And when the righteous man is said to fall seven times a day, it cannot be understood, a downright fall; but rather so many foils given the spirit by the flesh in their continual wrestlings, and contention. For the spirit cannot be said to be thrown down, till it fall from the grace of God, whereof these little stoopings under the frailtie of humane nature, make us not guil­ty. But 'twill be needless for me to treat the case as a Casuist, to convince the dissenters from this doctrine; since they who disagree with us, are the most concern'd, by their own confes­sion, in this cleanness and expurgation I shall propose; because those who hold all sins to be mortal, are the most strictly obli­ged to endeavour an exemption, ev'n from the least transgres­sions.

The most steddie hands draw straighter lines (specially when they are to be long ones) guided by a rule then by their own unassisted motion; wherefore our heavenly Father fast­ned their rule and square to the first children he began to teach, by exterior figures and characters; setting it upon their arms and between their eyes, that in all the strayings and evagations of their thoughts, the presence of this guide might recall them. And surely one of the chief occasions of the obliquitie and wryness of the actions of Christians, is the incogitancie, and thoughtlessness on this precept, exhibited by Christ Jesus for the regulation of our lives▪Mat. 5.48. Be you perfect as your heavenly Fa­ther is perfect; which doth not import an equalitie, but a simi­litude in perfection; the identitie is intended in the kind, not in the degrees of puritie, as our souls a [...]e the perfect images of God in their reasonable nature, not in the extent of their excel­lence.

Our part is, to preserve a puritie in our thoughts and actions, conformable, though not commensurate unto Gods: We must therefore in the first place, firmly imprint this perswasion in our minds, that this model of uprightness is expos'd unto us not only as an attractive proposition, but as an obliging pattern: [Page 105] and consequently, we must keep this resemblance of perfection always in our eye, which he (who first stain'dd our immaculate nature) doth continually labour to withdraw from our at­tention, to oppose the reparation of the image he has defac'd; insomuch as ev'n those who may be said, not to wrastle against flesh and bloud; that is, against the grosser impurities of our corrupt nature,Eph. 6.12. are still invaded by the principalities and powers of spiritual wickednesses. There are many, before whom the Tempter dares not appear, but as Lucifer, rising in the morn­ing; for as Prince of darkness, he would rather fright then fan­cie such commercers. As he compasses the earth he takes all habits which conduce best to his access, respectively to his se­veral addresses: where this subtile spirit finds he cannot easily be receiv'd, as in his kingdom like a Prince, he will come ev'n like a Pedler; bring in all kind of toyes and trifles to trade for; and with many harmless souls, he hath no greater commerce then these pettie seducements, leading them astray by some inordinate affections. The fallacies of trifles, (as the Wise man saith) obscures better things, and the inconstancie of desires per­verts well-meaning minds.

Are there not many well-dispos'd spirits, of which we may say, they are subject to be over-reach'd by the Seducer, only in the form of a Charlatan; because they will take some receits from him as curiosities, though they will not trust him with their health? He may put off to them many vain faultie de­lights, but no foul vicious desires; which may be resembled to the using some outward applications, by the advice of Mountebanks, from whom we would take nothing inward; be­cause we believe the worst end of the one, to be but a harmless effectlessness; but the danger of inward recipes is more serious, which sober persons will not adventure. Thus the Charlatan-Spirit, by his cajollerie, perswades many easie persons to set vain and wanton apparencies, and liberties upon the exterior of their behaviors, which will take nothing questionably dange­rous into their hearts; because they believe the first consistent with vertue and pietie, and by this insinuation, many venial [Page 106] sins slide into very innocent interiour dispositions.

Methinks I may properly say, there are many who make the same difference between venial and mortal sin, as most women do between the using white or red upon their faces; of which two, the last is accounted cleanly and harmless to the health; the first, foul and offensive to it; wherefore many who are ve­ry free in using red, will not allow the use of white. So there are divers who scruple not venial sin, because 'tis consistent with the life of grace, and doth much set off to them the gusts of flesh and bloud; yet they will not resolvedly admit mortal sin, because 'tis inconsistent with the life of Grace, which they are conscientious enough to prefer before their worldly appe­tites. But let me desire such weak devotions to reflect, that, as it is said of red, at least, it alwayes spoils the natural com­plexion; so doth all venial sin take away the proper beautie of Grace, and keeps it so pale, as it never hath the colour of zeal; which tincture should shine out and blaze in Christian vertue. To such infirm discolour'd pieties it is, I address this exhorta­tion, and for whom I implore of God his mercie, by the pro­fit of this remonstrance, according to this command of his holy Spirit,S. Tho. ep. 1. c. 5. v. 16. Who knows his brother sins a sin not unto death, let him ask life, and it shall be given him.

Let all presumers on their steddiness in the way of grace, re­member the admonition of the Wise man,Eccles. 19.1. He that neglects small things▪ shall fall by little and little; for there is no custom so weak, that hath not more power over our nature, then we intend to give it: insomuch as there are many mastered un­awares by those actions, the effects whereof, they conceive to be at their disposure. For as we see children turn round so long in sport, that they fall down at last, when they would stand; so there are many, who playing in the mazes of little faults, bring their minds to such a diziness, as throws them down when they mean to stand and intermit that amusement.

Nor doth this our common plea of the propensitie of our natures to such declinations defend us; for 'tis not the natural aptness, but our voluntary adherence to these misdemeanors, [Page 107] that is criminal: the one is a charge left upon our estate by in­heritance; the other an engagement of our own contracting. The generation that succeeded those first children of Israel, who should have destroyed the Infidels, were not to be blam'd for letting them live among them, unless they contracted alli­ance with them: so these defects, which are left by our first father, like thorns in the sides of our nature, are not accounted our crimes, unless we marry our affections to them. To be naturally prone to vanitie, passion, self-love, or intemperance, is neither sin nor shame in this our hereditary state of deprava­tion; for the holy Spirit tells us clearly,James. 1.14. that every one is tempt­ed, and allured by his own concupiscence; which, when it concei­veth, beareth sin. Whereby we perceive that till we join and couple our affections to our infirmities, the pregnancie of our single nature doth not bear any crime without the conjunction with our will, which we must by all possible means decline. For that may be aptly said, in order to this disswasion, which God spake in the case of these childrens marrying with the In­fidels; Surely they will turn your hearts after their gods. 1 Reg. 11.2. Cer­tainly Solomon little thought at first, that his dalliances with strange women should have drawn him unto Idolatrie; but at last, ev n he unhappily verifi'd this principle; He who seeks dan­ger shall perish in it.

SECT. II.
The danger of cherishing any of our known faultiness, for fear of inducing habits.

VVE have shew'd you the nature of these spiritual mis­demeanors; nor can we too much detect to you the treacherousness of such Inmates, because we are commonly [Page 108] betray'd, by our presumption upon our strength to suppress them when we please; or to keep them, at least, from passing into capital offences. And upon this supposition there are too many, whom we may compare to Cammels in the Law, which were legally clean in point of their heads; but not so in respect of their feet: for such as will voluntarily retain venial sins only, may be said to be conformable to the Gospel in regard of their heads, that is, their intentions; but not Evangelical in point of their feet, which signifie their lower affections: Which puritie we know, is counselled by our Saviour, telling us, that he who is washed, must likewise wash his feet. And Saint Augustine sayes, that these feet are most fouled by our walk­ing in the whited paths of this world; those thorns and briars which prick them, keep them cleaner then that sweet powder they tread so soft upon.

Wherefore we are bound carefully to shake off this dust; for by our neglect it easily sticks to us; and by degrees, settles to such a fastness that it require [...] ev'n the warm water of tears to wash it away. We must therefore beware of cherishing ev'n the least faultie affection; because we deceive our selves if we believe we do but retain it, for we advance it; imper­ceptibly it winds it self inward, through the folds of our insensitive appetites; so that we discern not how far it is sinuated, till we come to recal it, with purpose to cast it out; then we find how much it hath wrapped and enfolded it self in our desires, and how uneasie it is to extricate this so deep­ly engag'd affection.

Let us reflect upon that terrible example of the young man in the Gospel, who had observ'd all the commandments from his youth; insomuch as our Saviour is said to have looked upon him, and loved him. Whereby we may conceive that he came charg'd with no mortal sin, when he was invited to wash his feet; which had too much, as it seems, of this earth sticking to them, for the following of Christ. That in­ordinate love of temporalities, (whose power and masterie over him, he knew not) was strong enough to hold him back, [Page 109] ev'n against the force of Christs own voice; and that affection which till then, had not ventur'd to attempt the breach of any commandment; when the question came between the breaking that inveterate habit or the command of Christ, the custom of loving the world carried it against so practised a religious conformitie.

And do we not frequently observe, that familiar practises blind ev'n zeal it self, as to the discernment of our errors? For with what zealous fervour did Jehu destroy the Temples of Baal; and yet connived at the standing of Jeroboams golden Calfs? It seems that Time and Custom had so cover d over that unconformitie, that the sharpest eyes of zeal could not pe­netrate the vail of habitual error. Let none therefore be satis­fi'd with their fervour, in detesting all notorious sins; if they find their affections combin'd and charg'd with any known di­version from the perfect love of God: for surely it is no pro­per address to God, for perseverance in the state of grace, to expect this tolleration of a friendship and dearness with our viti­ous nature. Those who study not much to know themselves, should, methinks, be at least as prudent in Gods cause, as they are in the worlds business; which is, not to trust too much to one they know not: and surely; the more they (who by a due inquest, come to any knowledge of themselves) are ac­quainted, the less they will trust themselves, as to this kind of fidelitie: for truly our nature is so treacherous, as we can­not trust her with our frailties without being betray'd into greater faults. How commonly do little offences, that are the children of indifferent actions, become the parents of greater sins? which is the industrie of the evil spirit, to exalt his Imps above the stock from whence they are deriv'd. How familiarly do little light vanities beget formal pride? vain and wanton courtings, vitious passions? little loose dalliances, compleat impurities? Small disgusts and dislikes, direct hatred, and uncharitableness? The same issues have all other vitious extreams, which are at first deriv'd from small excesses: so easie is it for him (who [Page 110] (who was able to corrupt the sincere stock of our whole na­ture) when he finds these corrupt shafts rooted in us, to en­graff upon them graffs of another species; the fruit whereof shall exceed the nature of the root that bears it. For thus by these degrees, the shaft of venial sin rooted in our affections, comes to bear the fruit of mortal, which is, Death.

Let us consider whether that subtile enemie, who can taint and vitiate ev'n our best practises and dispositions, by insinuating vanitie and self-love into them; whether it be likely he will leave vitious habits, stopping short of his end? For he gets nothing by carrying souls no farther then Purgatory; all pains that purifie, being rather tortures to him then triumphs. And surely we may imagine, that ev'n the flames of Purgatory work upon the evil spirits by way of incensing their envie against such whose punishments they perceive to be in order to their eternal triumphs; whilst they know their own to be in conse­quence to a sentence of endless torment.

We cannot therefore but reasonably apprehend to be at last carry'd farther by these perverse inclinations then we intend. Let us not be deceiv'd by the slow motions of the evil spirit; concluding, that because we have long entertain'd these venial sins, without their having carried us to any mortal, therefore their course is limited. For it is a consequence to the Devils restrain'd power, to act but slowly and indirectly; it is [...]ods special propertie to will and act both at once. Wherefore the Devil does not undertake to throw any down perpendicu­larly into hell, but leads them by winding and turning descents: the motion of the serp [...]nt being flexuous and crooked, the sub­ject mov'd must needs follow the manner of the mover. Hence it is that we should rather apprehend the farther progress of such sins, by their long possession of us, then judge of their in­nocence by their dilatorie effects: for we cannot conclude of our power to restrain them, till we have really ejected them; and those who are upon that undertaking, will soon perceive, that ev'n their own will (upon the strength whereof they relie for this delivery) is half gain'd against the proposal of the un­derstanding; [Page 111] and as S. Augustine informs us in this case, they shall find but a velleitie, or half willing, not an entire union and declaration ev'n of that power towards this dispos­session.

If S. Paul (who had the power of casting out all Devils but his own) did so much apprehend his incroachment, shall we venture to harbour any of the evil spirits emissaries, and presume we are still masters of our house? It is a certain rule, that the Devil was never gain'd and made a friend of by good usuage; nor ought we to suspect him the less for our having been long, as I may say, well us'd by him, without any manifestation of his mortal malice. Our Saviour Christs example hath taught us how to proceed with him: He would not admit the Devil so much as to praise or honour him; to intimate unto us, that ev'n when he appears the most fair and harmless, he is not to be allow'd the least correspondence.

How different from this of Christ, is the stile of the world? where, in point of praises and commendations, the design is seldom suspected, though commonly there appears evidently more of the interest of the giver in them, then of the honour of the receiver. To this sort of seducement, the frailer sex is so subject, as ev'n when the Tempter is in the posture, and figure, most speaking this condition, (that is, in the fairest state of na­ture, and dresses of art) then he finds the easiest admission, and the greatest confiding. But let me humbly advise that sex to be very suspitious of all praises that refer to the perfections of single nature: for if there be true matter of some excellence in their persons, they are in danger enough with their own glasses: but if there be no real occasion of praise in them, they are in danger to be deceiv'd, notwithstanding their own glasses: so apt are they to be abus'd in this point, that they will com­monly take any bodies word, rather then judge by their own eys in this kind of self-knowledg: they cannot therefore be too scru­pulous in giving access to praises, and valuations of their per­sons. For surely, I may surely say, that most of those indear­ments address'd to the exterior of women, by the Charlatannery [Page 112] of the world, are like Mercurie water, which though it may smooth and whiten the cheeks, yet blacks and corrupts the teeth; so that while that (which is only for shew and unne­cessary) is mending, what is for use and necessitie, is impair'd: just thus (in the case of these feminine flatteries) as the body, whose beautie is not necessarie, is somewhat grac'd; the soul whose puritie is of absolute necessitie, is most commonly dis­colour'd and poluted.

This admonition is one of the most pertinent I can conceive for that sex, which is naturally less expos'd to mortal sin, and more unto venial then the other; they having many custo­mary and connatural restraints upon them, as to the grosser vices, from which men have no retention, but that of consci­ence. They therefore ought to be the more scrupulous in che­rishing any of those diversions from pietie, which the custom of the world will rather countenance then reproach to them: for those faults, whereof shame doth advertise them, there needs not a stander by to prevent such oversights. And surely it is to be imputed to these habitual, though but venial peccancies, that we find so many of an indifferent temper in devotion, and so few of an edifying zeal; for these little mental obstructions breed that spiritual Green sickness which we see in many dis­positions; whose spiritual performances it renders so pale and discolour'd, that there appears no bloud of devotion (which is zeal and ardour in pious imployments) and as in natu­ral sickness, so it happens in this spiritual; such infirm mindes never thriving untill these obstructions be re­moved.

In conformitie to this, the holy Bishop of Geneva sayes ele­gantly and truly, that venial sins in well dispos'd minds, are like Spiders got into a Hive of Bees; which, though they do not kill the Bees, yet they always spoil the hony. The same mischievous consequence results from this other intermixture; for if grace it self be not lost, yet the fruits and works of it, at least, are kept from thriving by this ill neighbourhood. Nor can any, upon consideration, expect less then a great [Page 113] abatement and deprisure of their souls in the account of God, when his pure sight beholds this protected impuritie. How conducing are any such affections to that State which our Sa­viour recommends? Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God. Sure it is, that the great business of a Christian in this world is to intend the seeing of God continually, as clearly as the eye of faith can discover him; and undoubtedly these grains or motes willingly left in that eye, keep the sight of it from being laid wide open towards the object, suffering it to look up but intermittingly, in such a sort, as material grains or motes got into our natural eyes, keep them twinckling and half open; and by that means contract much the extent and pleasure of that sense. No less certain is it, that such inherent impurities shorten the prospect of Faith towards celestial ob­jects, and render the exercise of that spiritual view uneasie, and undelightful: for unless that eye of the mind be clean and pure, the whole powers of it will certainly be very much dimm'd and obscur'd. Wherefore all such as have these films and thin skins of impuritie growing over the eye of their faith, although they find no sensible pain, that is, no notorious offence to their conscience, yet (if they desire a clear discernment of their way, and to look far before them, in order to their safest passage) must they intend the cleansing, and abstersion of these darkning interpositions.

We may therefore conclude this exhortation to all well-affected souls, cherishing their venial sins, with this advertise­ment; that it is a kind of Balaams divinitie, to love the reward of iniquitie, and yet to profess the desire of dying the death of the righteous: So great danger is there to affect and entertain the pleasures and flatteries of perverted inclinations, ev'n while we purpose to live the life of the vertuous and innocent; for this very presumption of restraining (when we list [...] our voluntary defects, is the greatest of our faults, when it is rely'd upon, for our justification; since, surely they who confide in their pur­poses of limiting the progress of such faultie affections, do me­thinks, as if the children of Israel after they had marry'd the [Page 114] forbidden women, should have made this excuse, that they did it not to have children by them; it being no less probable, that our affections coupled with these inordinate appetites, should beget a fouler issue. They therefore who desire to se­cure the subjecting their own frailties, must endeavour the sup­pression, not connive at the support of any of their vitious infir­mities;1 Pet. 1.14. in conformitie to this solicitation of S. Peter, As chil­dren of obedience, not fashioning themselves according to the first desires of their ignorance; but as he who hath called them is holy, so let them be holy in all manner of conversation.

SECT. III.
The means of rectifying our inclinations, per­verted to Venial Sin.

VPon these proposals of Christian puritie, methinks, I meet divers senses, ev'n in the vertuous and well-dis­pos'd hearers; very many with Sarah laughing behind the dore, at the improbabilitie of this transcending of their own nature (considering the inveterate habits of these kinds of de­fects) and little hoping this fecunditie of grace, which they notwithstanding, sincerely desire; some few indeed with the blessed Virgin, surmount the bounds of their own nature, and (perswaded of these strange effects of grace,) do with an humble affiance, ask this question: How shall this be done: since we find no aptitude in our nature to this state of puritie? To these I may safely answer in the terms of the Angel, the power of the Hig [...]est shall overshadow you; and as you believe with promptitude, so shall you be delivered of this burthen of your nature with a more gratious facilitie then those others; to whom also I may reply, (in our Saviours words to the doubt­ing [Page 115] Father in the Gospel, who desired him to help his son if he could) If you can believe, all things are possible unto God: where­by I suppose a lively active faith, working by proper natural means suggested by grace, in order to redressing this crooked­ness, by a frequent bowing our nature against the bent it stands fix'd to, through customary declinations; for surely, there are many single desirers of puritie, who in themselves, may ask this question of the weak disciples; Why cannot we cast out these evil inclinations? to which their answer is annexed, that these kinds of evil habits are not to be cast off, but by fast­ing and prayer; that is, by abstaining from such practices as feed and nourish these natural appetencies, and by a zealous recourse to God for his concurrence with this endeavour to rectifie these perversities.

These two expedients are to be conjoin'd; for he (who while he pray'd to God to be deliver'd, should not actually labour to retrench some of his faultie customes) may be justly reproach'd with such a meanness of spirit, as one who under­hand sought to do ill offices to an enemie at Court, and yet flatter'd him every day before his face; which surely is an un­politick proceeding with the master and discerner of hearts, who may well answer such suiters, in words you acknowledge God, but denie him in deeds.

And those who (upon the strength of their own natural vertue) presume to master their vitious propensities, with­out much recourse to the auxiliary power of prayer, may be charg'd with such a vain braverie, as one who would chuse rather to combat a wild beast in duel, then use any art to de­stroy him; for certainly our animal part will be too strong for our single rational in this incounter. We ought therefore, un­doubtedly to confederate these two powers of prayer and pra­ctice, against the habitual possessions of these corrupt inclinati­ons. In order to which method, this Councel of our Saviour is very proper, the one you must do, and the other not omit.

The first Principle whereby we must direct our Conduct, is, that all our faultie affections and familiarities are not totally [Page 116] to be devested, and dismissed together. We know our de­clining nature does not so much as fall perpendicularly into ex­tremities of vice, but commonly sinks and slides downward by flexious and oblique descents; much less can we expect it should remount this steep point of puritie, but by many turnings and pliant insinuations, both of grace and reason. It is re­markable, that when God by his own immediate power, deli­ver'd and conducted his people out of Egypt, Exod 1 [...].17. he would not carry them the nearest way through the Philistins, lest being to combat so strong enemies in their first enterprise, they should be frighted and return back into Egypt, rather then adventure to overcome that opposition. Whence we may derive this instruction, not to presume to carry our weak nature, at first parting from our habitual appetites, that way which seems the directest to perfection; lest by meeting with too much repugnancie at once, we may be frighted with the diffi­culties, and retire back to the customary eases and inclinations of our corrupt nature.

The method therefore I would propose, in order to a deli­very from the dominion of our faultie adherencies, is to be­gin to disband them by their least parties; undertaking at first the di [...]using some of our least affected familiarities, which many times serve as wedges to combine the greater and master affections. And this course has not only some fa­cilitie, as to the prevailing upon those special enterprises, but likewise conduces much to the loos'ning of the whole band and compact of our imperfections. Wherefore let not those who are conscious of never so few of these habitual misde­meanours, perswade themselves they are so inconsiderable, that they require not this constraint upon their nature; for every thing that is displeasing to God, is made great by the act of accounting it little. S. Paul rely'd not ev'n upon his being unconscious of any offence, considering God was to be the judge of his puritie. Nor let any who are over­run with never so many of these weeds, neglect this essay, upon the belief of the impossibilitie of their delivery by [Page 117] this method of beginning to pick out the least and loos [...]st of these inherent faults: for surely they may be undeceived very aptly, by the common Parable of the Husbandman, who sent his son to cleanse a piece of ground cover'd over w [...]th weeds; who (as soon as he saw the multitude he was to work upon) apprehended an impossibilitie in the task; and therefore lying down in the field, slept out the time appointed for his labour: after some dayes, being ask'd by his father, whether the work were finish'd? he answer'd, that he had not so much as at­tempted it, upon the belief of its unfeasableness. Where­upon, it being demanded what he had done all the time he was appointed to labour upon it, and he confessing he had lay'n down and slept out his hours assign'd to what he con­ceived so impossible; his father desired him to take this ad­vice; namely, to return into the field, and begin to work but the first day as long as he was wont to sleep; and after some dayes tryal of this course, if he continued in despair of finishing, he should be excus'd from his pursuance of it. Pre­sently then, in conformitie to this order, he began the work; and being disabus'd in point of the infeasableness, pursu'd his task, and perfected it in less time then he had before lost in sleeping. This is easily apply'd; for surely there are many minds well grounded in faith and pietie, which are notwith­standing much annoy'd with these weeds of faulty affections; from which they never attempt a delivery upon this misperswa­sion of the improbabilitie of the design; which, if they had but begun once with this method of loos'ning and casting out the least of these peccant customes, would find by degrees a facilitie towards an entire expurgation;2 Pet. 2.9. remembring that God knows how to deliver the godly out of temptations.

Such therefore, as are but tainted with some few of these trespasses, will account it a gentle expedient, to endeavour the clearing only the least of them at the first essay; and those who are pester'd with many of these undue affections, cannot ac­count it a severe injunction, to discharge themselves of their least delighting familiarities. To make a trial of what that change [Page 118] will produce; let those who have so long known the pleasure of yeilding, but once experience that of resisting a temptation: this very motive of varietie may be allow'd to some effemi­nate minds, to sweeten at first this self-denial. And surely, I may say with S. Paul, that at the beginning of this redressment, whether in pretence or in truth this reformation be essay'd, it may be admitted; for God doth often allow imperfect mo­tives, to make the first overtures towards perfection. And I may promise upon this essay, that since custom did render ev'n the servitude of the spirit, under the sense agreeable, it will much more make the liberty and dominion of the Spirit over the inferiour partie, joyful and satisfactory.

This proposal doth, methinks, void the Common Plea, whereby we seek to defend these kinds of possessions, namely, the frailtie and infirmitie of our nature: for surely, there is no pretender to vertue, that will not be asham'd to claim so much priviledge against the rights of it, as to be excus'd from attem­pting this clearing of the least mote in their eye. As for in­stance, They who are apt to be distemper'd with inordinate an­ger, let them propose to themselves, the checking this passion, at first, in some of the least provocations that ordinarily occur. Such as are affected with the vanitie of apparel and curiositie in personal adornments; let them resolve to quit some one of their least fancied, and least noted excesses. Those who are over deli­cate, or profuse in their diet; let them begin to retrench some of their most inconsidered superfluities. As also, they who tres­pass in licenses of their tongues, for all sorts of idle words; let them but restrain these liberties in some of their weakest tem­ptations: and this same order directs us in all our several pec­cant habits, and inclinations. For here it may be fitly ap­plyed, what Moses told the children of Israel of their enemies the natives of the Land, You cannot destroy them all at once, lest the beasts of the field increase upon you: so all our mundanities are not to be assaulted at once, for fear of our sensitive natures being subject to too great and sudden a desolation, and dis­may'dness: I may therefore say with Moses, Your God will destroy [Page 119] them by little and little. And to smooth to them the first entry into this reformation, they may be allow'd to account, at first, that single relinquishment to be the only one, wherein they are to constrain themselves. The advice given by a holy person, as to the contending against the foulest temptations, will serve much fitter in these less criminals; which is, so to combat, as if that single conflict were to be the last enemie we were to en­counter. For the very victory will give us fresh courage and confidence to assault and master the remains, upon the pre­vailing in our first ent [...]rprises: ev'n our nature has another spi­ritual succour, (which▪ though it may be imperfect, as to the meriting, yet is not improper, as to the exciting us to the un­dertaking of new difficulties,) namely, the very self-esteem which commonly steals in along with all the conquests of the rational part upon the sensitive; so that after our first victory, it may safely be expected, that ev'n our self-value will not neg­ligently rest in a subjection to the remaining defects; but be in­cited and inspirited towards an attempt upon the rest of our imperfections. And by this means, that vertue which was in­firmed by the weakness of nature, may come to be perfected ev'n by her infirmitie.

For the truth is, our disabilitie to restrain most of these tres­passing liberties, arises from our insinceritie in controlling them: because, for the most part, we use them, as we do wanton and knavish children, whom we chide in such a sort that it passes ra­ther for a cherishing of their life and spirit, then a serious dislike of their forwardness: thus we commonly complain of our frailties, and seem to wish them redressed, but enter not into any serious method of reformation. Upon which subject S. Gregory sayes very pertinently, We are so untrue to our selves, that we yeild to be flatter'd by our shames; and that we may sin with the less reproach, we are content to own our unworthiness, our nature exchanging ev'n her pride, to pur­chase her meaner passions. Now by this expedient I propose, upon the suppressing of any of our faults, our rational part be­gins to delight in that superioritie, which exceeds the former [Page 120] sensible delectation; and well disposed spirits come quickly to profess with the Psalmist, Sinners have told me of fabulous pleasures, but they are not comparable to those of thy Law.

Let me therefore beseech all vertuous minds, (for to such on­ly I direct this Remonstrance,) to consider how unreasonable it is, to entertain any, never so little sin, pretending to excuse it by this infirmitie of our nature; when for that very reason we are advised to expel it, in regard of our proneness to be drawn by every little fault into greater infidelities. Wherefore rather then use the infirmitie of our vitiated nature, to cover and pal­liate their offences, let them serve themselves of it, to disco­ver and represent to them frequently, the miserie of their con­dition, and the peril of yeilding in any degree, to this unhappy propension: And since the inculpableness of their meerly na­tural imbecilitie, abates to them the shame of owning it, let them not at least voluntarily surcharge themselves with such imperfections, as want that excuse and extenuation: for when the will conspires to propagate our hereditary infirmities, how can the spirit hope to cover this affected nakedness with this or­dinary fig-leaf laid upon it,Gen. 4.7 of saying, The woman thou gavest me for my companion (that is, the frailtie of my sensitive nature) tempted me? when the spirit is assured thus by the Spirit of God, though sin lyeth at thy dore, yet his desire shall lye under thee, and thou shalt rule over him.

To all such as God shall be pleased to move by these sugge­stions, I will humbly propose this way of entry into this course of spiritual purgation, by a resort to the spring of all perfection Christ Jesus, and by possessing themselves of his interior pre­sence, by that means he has left his Church: for Christians need not treat with him as Moses did with God, to condition with him for his going up with them, since they have their God and deliverer always ready to go before them, and lead them out of the captivity of these ill habits, into a state of freedom. And surely; nothing is so powerful to engage our nature to an intendment of puritie and cleanness, as the frequent receiving of such a guest as our Saviour Christ, who delights only in the [Page 121] neatness of his entertainment; towards which, the preparation we make by cleansing his lodging, is a work, our nature is ea­silier perswaded to, then upon our ordinary days to intend so much order and decencie: for when we frequently dress up the Altar of our hearts, and undust it from all these little foulnesses, by degrees we come to be aided ev'n by one weakness of our nature, towards the delivery from others; our meerly natural shame to find our selves so often repeat the same faults, and bring back still the same self-accusings working upon us, and often rectifying some perverse inclinations, by the very disdain of such an imbecilitie.

There is nothing therefore, in my understanding, more condu­cing to this clearing and unobstructing our minds, then frequent confession to the same spiritual director; emptying them often of these peccant humours, and replenishing them with the bread that came down from heaven: which by degrees changes and improves the whole constitution of our minds, and dissavours to them the sharpness and piguantness of those vain and light relishes. And surely, our spirits must be disgusted with those unwholsome relishes, by the gust of some other savour of a no­bler and higher delight; which are spiritual suavities, whereof S. Peter sayes, Dulcis est Dominus si tamen gustastis: God is sweet above all things, when he is once truly tasted: and to induce a right taste of the sweetness of God, there is no so ready means, as to feed upon him often in that celestial manner, as he has left himself in his Church; which hath this conformitie with our feeding on him in the state of glory and vision, viz. that the frequent participation gives rather fresh appetite then any satiety.

And certain it is, that all those glittering passions, which so much affect our senses, get their lustre in the absence of that in­tellectual light, which as soon as it appears, deads and dis-lustres them. They are but squibs, which in the night shine like stars, but in a bright Sun-shine, have no such splendour: For while our affections are all in the obscuritie of sensual appetites, the [Page 122] toyes and trifles of this world, crack and glitter in our fight; but as soon as our desires are brought into the light of the Sun of righteousness and puritie, all those vanities utterly lose their fire and lustre.

Let those then, who are well dispos'd towards puritie and sanctitie, begin to place their minds in this presence of the glorious spiritual Sun, whose Sphere is in the Churches Al­tar; and it is very much to be hoped, that by degrees, their affections will be remov'd out of that darkness, which gives some sparkling lustre to the vanities and levities of the world. But let them not be diverted from pursuance of this resort to the Father of light, because perhaps they find not a pre­sent claritie and full illumination in their minds: for this light is commonly infus'd by such degrees as our Saviour us'd with that blind man,Mare. 8. whose eyes, at the first touch, were but half opened, when he saw men seeming like trees to him; but at the second, he discerned clearly all objects: so by these successive motions, this spiritual light enters into our souls; at first with a twinckling sight, we begin to perceive the vanitie and unwor­thiness of such adherences: afterwards by degrees, we discover clearly the foulness of such amusements; and the great impedi­ment they are to the advance and exaltation of grace. And in that full light, we quickly come to endeavour to disband and break the knot of our vitious habits, and make this suit quite contrary to our former extenuation of our faults; praying, That our heart may not decline into that iniquitie of seeking excuses for our sins.

And thus we advance into a pious solicitude of picking and sifting out ev'n the least of our imperfections, and delight more in the candor and cleanness of our minds, then we did in those other complacencies and soothings of our fancies; when the Spirit gaining continually upon the sense, resolves as we have born the image of the Terrestrial man, 1 Cor. 15. so now to bear the image of the Celestial. And in honour of this Hea­venly mans entrie into their hearts, such receivers of him are [Page 123] not content to cut down onely boughs, and to strew leaves before him; but ev'n strip themselves of their cloaths and lay them down at his feet, to make clean and adorn the way of his advance into their souls.

For methinks this difference may be aptly made between them who only forbear some vitious practices, which are not much fastned to their inclinations, and such who re­trench ev'n their most intimate faultie affections; the first may be said to be like them who did but cut down boughs and strew leaves for our Saviour Christs entrie into Jerusalem: Mare. 11. but these second, like those others, who stripped themselves and laid ev'n their garments down before him, to honour his presence. The one doe but offer what is loose and se­ver'd from their hearts; the others present what is the clo­sest and most united to their minds; namely, those most delightful habits, which like their cloaths, warm, cherish, and adorn most our sensitive appetites; which the Apostle sayes, we are so unwilling to have devested, but would be clothed upon them: and consequently such contributors to the honour of Christs triumph over sin, must have the most meritorious title to his last entry and triumph in the heavenly Jerusalem, where the degrees of elevation and precedencie, are taken by those of this lifes puritie and sanctitie.

If these motives, working instrumentally by the grace of Christ, convince any to make this essay of purging their lives, by this method of undertaking some of their least affecting trespasses; I am confident they will find the same facilitie towards a full deliverie, and those successive de­grees of delight in the masterie, which I have promis'd this pious application.

Let me then end with this supplication to all persons, free from the stronger chains of the Tempter, yet still en­tangled in these little snares of Venial Sin; That they [Page 124] would often reflect upon the foundation of this discourse, Be you holy, as your Heav [...]nly Father is holy: and con­jointly remember Saint Johns invitation to this intend­ment of sanctitie, which by the promises annex'd to it, may sh [...]me all such as hope for the one, without aspiring by the other: for they who expect to become like Christ Jesus, when they see him in his highest glory, ought not to forget this con­dition,1 Joh. 3.3. Every man that hath this hope in him, purifieth himself, even as he is pure.

SECT. I.
The Nature of Purgatorie; wherein great pains and pleasure are conjoin'd.

FRom the discourse of Venial Sin, the descent is so natural to the consideration of Purga­torie, that my thoughts (which have hi­therto declin'd all passages leading to­wards any controverted devotion) cannot but yeild to this propension that carries them into the Survey of It: through which yet they shal pass, rather like travellers, then tryers of the ground; making only a narrative, not pleading the case. In order whereunto, I shall offer only a literal rela­tion from the mouth of a most eminent Saint; whom God was pleased to conduct through this state of purgation in this life: which was a noble Lady of the family of Adorni, now [Page 126] reverenc'd by the name of S. Katherine of Genoua. And I am perswaded, the discourse will so far move ev'n their Reason, to whose Faith it does not reach, that they will admit the opinion as rational, though not obligatorie: which shall therefore tempt me to venture the strength of it into both these dangers, the eminencie of the Italian Language, and the poorness of mine.

This holy soul, while she resided in the flesh, being cast into the Purgatorie of the flaming love of God, which refin'd her from all impuritie, that so passing out of this life, she might immediately be admitted to his presence (the sweet desired term of her love) by means of this amorous fire, she compre­hended in what manner the souls departed in charitie remain in the local Purgatory, to be purg'd from all dross and stain of sin; whereof in this life they had not made an expurgation. And just as she being put into the amorous Purgatorie of the divine fire, remain'd united to his divine love, and content with all that was wrought in her; so she understood the state of souls in the common Purgatorie, and gave this account of their condition.

Souls that remain in Purgatorie, (as far as I can apprehend) can have no other election but to be in that place; and this, by the order and disposition of God, who has justly deter­min'd it thus. Nor can they any more turn towards them­selves, or discourse to this purpose; I have committed such sins, for which I deserve to be kept here; would to God I had not committed them, for then I should now go to Heaven: nor yet can they think such an one shall be delivered sooner then I, or I then he: they can have no remembrance of themselves or others, in point of good or evill, which may any wayes intend or remit their ordinary sufferance, but find so much contentment in their being conformable to Gods order, and that he should work what and however he pleases, that ev'n in their greatest pains, they cannot think on themselves. They only contemplate the operation of the Divine goodness; which acts with so much mercie to man, in order to the bringing him [Page 127] to himself, that they can have no discernment of either suffe­rance or ease, from whence may result proprietie, or self-regard: for if they could have such sentiments, they would not be in pure charitie.

They cannot ev'n discern that they endure these pains for their sins, nor retain any such impression in their minds, since it would imply some active imperfection which cannot consist with that place, wholly exempt from farther actual sinning. No, the cause of their Purgatorie they see, only once, as they pass out of this life, and never more; because it would import some self-consideration.

Remaining then in charitie, and incapable of being diverted by any actual defect, they can no longer wish or desire ought but the pure will of pure charitie; and being thus in that purg­ing fire they are in the Divine appointment, which is pure cha­ritie: nor can they in any point decline from it, being exclu­ded from actual sin, as well as merit.

I verily believe, notwithstanding this state of suffering, there can be no contentment imagin'd comparable to that of a soul in Purgatorie, except that of the Saints in heaven: and this satisfaction increases daily, by the influence of God upon these souls; which augments by the same degrees that the im­pediment of this influence wastes, and is consumed. The rust and dross of sin, is this interpos'd obstacle; which, as the fire works off and consumes, so the soul is the more discover'd and dispos'd to the divine infusion. Just as a thing that is cover'd cannot admit the splendor of the Sun; not by reason of the Suns incapacitie, which continually shines, but through the op­position of the covering; whose interposition, as it is remov'd, proportionably the beams illustrate and clarifie the subject: so in this case, the rust, to wit, sin, is the covering of the soul; which in purgatory the fire consumes by degrees, and accor­ding as it wears off, the soul is discover'd to the true Sun, God himself; and consequently the satisfaction improves, as much as the rust and dross is abated, being the more display'd to the Divine irradiation. And thus the one rises and the [Page 128] other falls away, till the full time be accomplish'd.

Notwithstanding which, the intensness of the pain is not re­mitted, but only its duration contracted. In the mean while, as to the will, they can never account their sufferings pains; so much are they pleased with the order of God, to which their will rests united in pure love and charitie. Yet, on the other side, they indure so extream a pain, as no tongue can express, nor imagination apprehend the least spark of it, unless God by a special favour should reveal it; as by an extraordinary grace he vouchsafed a little glimpse to my soul: but I am un­able to infuse the light of it into others with my tongue, though this view which our Lord gave me, never since departed out of my mind. I'le impart to you what I can of it, and such will conceive it, whose understanding the Lord shall please to open.

SECT. II.
The reason of Purgatorie, and comparing the state of Hell with It.

THE foundation of all sufferings, is original or actual sin. God created the soul pure, simple and clear from all stain of such; with a certain beatifying instinct, turning to­wards himself; from which instinct original sin (which in the womb she meets) removes her; whereto, when actual sin is added, the soul is more distanc'd; and the farther she departs, the more malignitie she contracts: wherefore God, less still corresponds with her.

Considering then, that all possible goodness has its nature, by participation from God; who confers it on irrational crea­tures, as he has ordain'd in an equal and constant measure, [Page 129] which never fails them; but on the rational, more or less, as he finds the passage unobstructed by sin. Hence it is that when a soul is drawing near to her first pure creation, in charitie and candor, the instinct and appetite of beatitude begins to raise and kindle it self; increasing still with such an impetuous ve­hemencie of flaming love, which presses her to her final term that any impediment seems insupportable; and the nearer she approaches, and the more discovers, the more is the aggrava­tion of her sufferance.

Now, because souls in Purgatorie are free from the culpable­ness of sin, they have no interpos'd partition between God and them; except that pain which suspends the effect and perfe­ction of the instinct and appetencie of beatitude. Wherefore discerning evidently of how great importance every little let and hindrance proves to them; and finding this instinct, by a necessary justice, with-held and retarded from accomplishment: hence arises an extream fire, ev'n like that of hell, excepting the guilt, which only renders the wills of the damned malignant; to whom God imparts none of his goodness; and there­fore they remain in a desperate malicious wilfulness against the will of God.

Whence it is evident, that the perversness of the appetite op­pos'd to the will of God, constitutes the crime; and the per­tinacitie in the malicious will continues it: Wherefore that of the reprobate in hell, (who have pass'd out of this life with this malicious will) neither is, nor can be remitted; because they cannot change their will, being once dead, so dispos'd: in which passage the will is fix'd either to good or evil; which of them it was then determin'd; according to what is written, W [...]ere I shall find thee, (that is, at the hour of death, in what will, either of sinning or of being penitent for having sinn'd,) there will I judge thee: of which judgment there is never any repeal, by reason that after this life the libertie of free-will is no more pliable, but stands firm to that posture it was found in at the point of death. The damned therefore being found in that point with a will to sin, carry with them the guilt in an infinite [Page 130] degree; and yet the punishment is not so much as they deserve, albeit what they have in point of duration is endless; but the souls in Purgatorie retain only the pain of their sin; the guilt having been remitted at the hour of their death, when they were taken in a state of sorrow and contrition, and grieving for their offences ag [...]inst the Divine goodness: wherefore their pain is finite and decreases continually in point of lastingness, as has been explain'd. (O miserie exceeding all other, and so much the more in that humane blindness, allows it not a due consi­deration!) Neither is the pain of the damn'd infinite in point of quantitie, by reason that the infinite goodness of God sheds some drops of his compassion ev'n into hell: for man dying in mortall sin, deserves infinite pain, as well as everlasting time to suffer it. But the mercie of God has ordain'd the time only infinite, and the pain limitted in quantitie, for as much as he might justly have infl cted more then he has sentenced.

O how dangerous is sin committed with malice? because man hardly comes to repent it; and not cancelling it by re­pentance, the crime remains perpetually, as long as the person persists in the liking of the sin committed, or the will of such a transgression. But the souls in Purgatorie have an entire con­formitie of their will to that of God; by reason whereof his goodness corresponds with them, and they remain content (as to their will) and purifi'd from all crime; in which respect, those souls rest as pure as at the instant of their creation: for departing this life penitent and contrite, God immediately par­dons the culpable part; and there sticks upon them only some dross or rust of their past offences, from which they are after cleans'd and purg'd by means of the pains of that fire; where being clear d from all crime, and united to God by their will, they see God clearly, according to that degree he discovers himself in that state. They perceive likewise how much the fruition of God is to be esteem'd: and souls created to that [...]nd, feel such an impulse and sympathie of union with God, which attracts them so strongly to him by that natural corre­spondence between the soul and God, that it is not possible to [Page 131] give any reason, or imagine any figure or similitude sufficient to illustrate this matter, adequately to what the mind appre­hends by an interiour sentiment: Nevertheless, I will exhibit one which offers it self to my imagination.

Suppose that in the whole world there were but one loaf of bread, which were to relieve the hunger of all the creatures; and that they were to be satisfi'd meerly by the sight of it. In this case, man (in health) having by nature an appetite to eat; if he could not feed, yet neither fal sick nor die, his appetite would never diminish: and knowing that loaf of bread alone could satisfie him; while he wanted it his hunger could never be eas'd, but would be kept in an intollerable pain; and the nearer he approach'd, without being able to see it, the more this natural appetite would be sharp'ned; which by a vehement instinct, is wholly intent upon that wherein consists all his satisfaction. Supposing him then assured never to get sight of this bread; in that instant he would feel a compleat hell, like the damned souls, which are depriv'd of all hope ever to see God, the true food of souls; but the souls in Purgatorie enjoy the hope of seeing this bread, and to be satiated with it; wherefore they suffer by this hunger, and endure this pain during the time on­ly they are suspended from this divine refection, which is Jesus Christ, true Bread, true God, our Saviour, and our Love.

As a spirit clean and purifi'd, has no other center of rest but God, this being the end of its creation: so a soul stain'd and po­luted with mortal sin, has no other term but Hell, God having appointed that for Its place; wherefore Judas is said to have gone into his own place; and so in the instant that every soul is sever'd from the body, it goes straight to its appointed one. And certainly a soul departing in mortal sin, (if it did not find in that point of time, this determination, proceeding from the justice of God) would remain in a greater hell then the other: as being out of that ordination which partakes somewhat of the compassion of God, since he inflicts not so much punishment as the soul deserves:) whereupon not finding a more conve­nient place, nor of less misery, by the appointment of God, [Page 132] the soul casts it self into Hell, as into Its proper place and center.

So, in the point of our Purgatorie; the soul separated from the body, not finding her self in that puritie and cleanness wherein she was created; but seeing in her self an impediment, and that removeable only by the means of Purgatory; quickly and willingly she throws her self in thither: and if she did not find that appointment apt to deliver her from this incumbrance, in that instant the soul would beget in her self a Hell much shar­per then Purgatorie: for perceiving that she could not attain the desired end, by reason of that obstacle, the attainder of that desire is so much affected, that, in order to its consecution, the fire of Purgatorie seems not considerable; though (as I have said) it be in sharpness, like to that of hell; yet considering it as such a medicine, it seems nothing terrible.

I will add likewise, that I plainly see on Gods part, Heaven has no dores shut, but all who desire to enter may: because he is all mercie, and is turn'd towards us with open arms to wel­come us into his glory. But I find, notwithstanding, the Di­vine Essence to be of so high a puritie, and so much exceeding what can be imagin'd, that a soul (having but so much imper­fection sticking to her, as ev'n the least atome comes to) would sooner cast her self into a thousand hells, then appear in the pre­sence of that Divine Majestie, tainted with that blemish▪ wherefore finding Purgatory ordain'd to take out that stain, she flies into it; and conceives it a great mercie, as a means of clearing that obstruction.

The whole nature of Purgatorie, can neither be express'd by any tongue, nor comprehended by any understanding; but this I can discern, that its pains are no less then those of hell: notwithstanding which, I perceive the soul, spotted with the least defect, accounts it an indulgent grace, as I have said, not making [...]in some respect) any reckoning of it, compared with the impedimental stain, which intercepts her fruitive love. And me thinks, I see the souls in Purgatorie more tormented, by finding in themselves any thing that displeases God, and for [Page 133] having voluntarily contracted that indignitie, by offending such a Goodness; then by any other sufferance deriv'd from Purgatorie: the reason whereof is, that being in state of grace, they clearly discern the importance of that impediment, which suffers not their approach to God.

All whatever I have said in comparison of what my own spirit is certifi'd and possess'd of (as far as I have been able to comprehend in this life) is so short and weak; that all views, words, or sentiments, all imagination, all justice, all truth seem trifling, and nothing towards its expression; and I am out of countenance that I cannot find more precise words, and of higher indearment. For I see so conformable a sympathie and consonancie between God and the soul, that when God sees her tending to that puritie, wherein he created her, he touches her with a certain attractive kind of flaming love, sufficient to an­nihilate her, notwithstanding her immortality; and transforms her so much into himself, that she discerns her self to be no other then God; who continually proceeds drawing and fire­ing her, and never leaves till he has reduc'd her to that state and being, whence she first lapsed; that is, in the same puritie in which she was created.

SECT. III.
The manner of Gods operation upon Souls in this state.

VVHen the soul, by interiour light, sees her self thus drawn by God, with so much amorous ardor; through the heat of that flaming love of her so sweet Lord and God, which she feels superabound in her spirit, she (as it were) melts, and wholly dissolves her self. Then perceiving [Page 134] by the Divine light, how God never ceases to draw and con­duct her, tenderly towards her compleat perfection, with such continual care and providence; and this out of the sole mo­tive of pure love, whilst she on the other side, by reason of this impediment of sin, finds her self not in a capacitie of following this attraction of His; that is, this uniting aspect which God casts upon her, in order to this conjunction; and perceiving besides how important this retardment is, which suspends her access to the divine splendour; together with her own instinct, which earnestly wishes the removal of that impediment, that she might vigorously follow that uniting aspect: I say, the sense and consideration of these things, is that which produces the principal pains, wherewith souls are afflicted in Purgatory; not that they are very sensible of the painful part (though it be very extream) but they resent much more the opposition they find in themselves to the will of God; which they plainly see kindled with an excessive and pure love to them. And this love, together with this unitive aspect, draws perpetually and so powerfully, as if it intended nothing else: insomuch that the soul is so vehemently affected with it, that if she could find another Purgatorie surpassing this, to clear so much the sooner this impediment, she would quickly cast her self into it, through the impetuositie of that so consonant and combining love between God and her.

Moreover, I perceive an emission from that Divine love of certain beams and fiery lightnings upon the soul; and those so piercing and active, that methinks they are sufficient not on­ly to annihilate the body, but ev'n, if it were possible, the very soul. These irradiations have two effects, by the one they purifie, and by the other they annihilate: as gold, the more you melt it, the better it becomes; and so much it may be wrought and purged▪ that all imperfection will be voided and evacuated. This effect is wrought by fire upon materialities; but the soul cannot be annihilated in God, but well may it in it self: and the more it is purifi'd, the more it may be said to be extenuated and annihilated as to it self; remaining at last per­fectly [Page 135] purifi'd in God. And as gold, when it is refin'd to four and twentie caracts, can be no more wrought upon by any fire; because the imperfection only can be separated and extracted: so the Divine fire acts upon the soul, God holding her so long in it, till all imperfection be consum d, and she be brought, as I may say, to the state of four and twenty caracts, (supposing eve­ry one in their proper degree of puritie.) And when she is thus clarifi'd, she remains all in God; who having brought her to himself in this ultimate puritie, she becomes thenceforth impas­sible, because there is no matter left to work upon: whence, if in this pure state she were kept still in the fire, it would be no longer painful; but rather a fire of Divine love, and as it were, eternal life without any contrarietie.

I have explain'd how that infl [...]m'd instinct of reunion to God, connatural to the soul, finding an impediment against this conjunction, makes the souls Purgatorie. Now this last act of love does this work, without any contribution from the man, whose soul is cover'd with so much occult and secret im­perfection, that if one in this life could discern them, he would go near to despair: but this his last state purges and consumes them all by degrees; and when they are consum'd, God gives the soul some discernment of them, to the end she may compre­hend the Divine operation which raises in her the fire of love, dissolving and nullifying those impurities that are to be con­sum'd.

And we must understand that those acts wherein man con­ceives some perfection, are in the sight of God all defectuosi­ties; as in all things which have some shew of perfection, to wit, mans sight, his feeling, hearing, his willing, or his me­mory; in all these, when he acknowledges not their notions from God in all their acts, man contuminates him [...]elf: because to render these operations perfect, they ought to be wrought in us, without us, as to the being the principal agents; and the operations of God must be in the man, God, as the first Actor. Such are the effects which God produces in the last and highest operation of pure and clear love in this life, flowing simply [Page 136] from himself, without any merit of ours: which actings of Gods Spirit are so penetrative and incendiarie to the soul, that the body incompassing it, seems to consume as in a sharp flame; nor can ever be eas'd till it be dissolv'd by death. True it is, that the love of God which over-flows in the soul (accord­ing to my apprehension) affords it such a contentedness, as cannot be express'd: but as to the souls in Purgatorie, this con­tentment abates not one spark of their pain; rather that love, by the sense of being suspended from fruition, heightens their sufferance, by the same degrees that the love whereof God has made them capable, is exalted in puritie.

So that the souls in Purgatorie feel a conjunction of great pain and pleasure, wherein neither of them deduct from the measure of the other. In which state could they purge and clear themselves by contrition, they would in an instant dis­charge their whole debt; so high and intense a strain of It would they produce: and this by reason of their clear dis­cerning the infinite prejudice of that impediment, which delays their conjunction with their end and consummation, God. And let this be receiv'd for truth that ev'n the least farthing is not forgiven those pure souls of what they owe; the Divine justice having so decreed it. Thus it stands on Gods part: as for the souls on the other side, they have no proprietie nor election, and can see nothing but simply the will of God; nor desire any other state then that of Gods ordination. If any alms are given them by those in this world, which abridges their time, they are not in state to be affected by it in any re­spect, but under the notion of the [...]ustice of the Divine plea­sure; in all referring themselves to God, who satisfies himself as seems best to his infinite goodness. For if they could reflect upon these alms, separately from the Divine bountie, it would be a proprietie and self-will in them; which would intercept their sight of Gods will, and that would prove a hell to such souls: wherefore they remain immoveable in all that God ap­points them, as well in their ease and contentment, as their pain and affliction; and can never turn their thoughts upon them­selves, [Page 137] so much are they inwarded and transform'd into the Di­vine pleasure, being entirely resign'd to his most holy deter­mination.

Insomuch, that if we could suppose a soul presented to the sight of God, having as yet never so little left to purge; this would prove a great injury to her, and become a greater suffe­rance then ten Purgatories: because that pure goodness, and supreme Justice could not like such an object: wherefore it would be discorrespondent in respect of God; and the soul see­ing him not fully satisfi'd, though there wanted but the twinck­ling of an eyes time for her perfect purgation, would feel ev'n that, an intollerable condition; and to clear that little rust, would choose rather a thousand hells, then the standing be­fore the Divine Presence with the least remnant of impu­ritie.

Hence it was that this blessed Soul, discovering these things above treated in the Divine light, was wont to say, ‘I could wish I were able to crie so loud, as might terrifie all mankind that are upon earth, with this exclamation, O miserable man! why doest thou suffer thy self to be thus blinded by this world, and against so important a necessitie as that wherein thou wilt find thy self at the point of death, makest no provision? All of you shelter your selves under the hopes of Gods mercie, which you exalt and magnifie to co­ver your improvidence; but you consider not that all that goodness will turn to your condemnation, for having presu­med to contervene the will of so sweet and benign a God. Should not that goodness prevail with you towards the stri­ving to comply with his intire will, in stead of imboldning you to transgress it, by this undue presumption? because his Justice likewise must have its due perfection; and conse­quently, must some wayes be adequately satisfi'd. Presume not therefore upon these kind of words, I will confess before I dye, and so gain a plenary indulgence; by which means I shall instantly be discharged of all my sins, and assure my salvation: for, think well, and you will find, such a Confession and Con­trition, [Page 138] as is requisite for the gaining of this plenarie Indul­gence is so hard to be obtain'd, that upon examination, you will rather tremble, then be confident; and conclude it much more likely to be disappointed, then to obtain this Indulgence.’

I see the souls in Purgatorie remaining in the discernment of these two operations. The first is, they indure willingly their pains; it seeming to them that they see clearly God has us'd them with great mercie, considering what they have de­serv'd: and being fully possess'd of the infinite dignitie and excellence of God, they confess that if his goodness did not temper his justice with mercie, (satisfying the first by the most pretious blood of Christ Jesus) ev'n one single sin would not be over-punish'd with a thousand perpetual hells; in contem­plation whereof they suffer these pains so unrepugnantly, that they would not abate themselves one grain or scruple of them, acknowledging how justly they are impos'd and ordain'd by the Divine sentence. So that in respect of their will, they complain no more of God, then if they were already in eternal beatitude.

The other operation is, a contentedness which they feel, be­holding the order of God, working with so much love and commiseration in his designs upon souls. And these two ope­rations God imprints in one instant in those souls, who (being in the state of grace) apprehend and possess them truly to the best degree of their present capacitie; whence they derive much sati faction, which does not intermit, but rather increa­ses as they approach nearer God. They see nothing as in themselves, but all as in God, to whose pleasure they are more attentive, then to their own pains; and consider not them, com­pared with the other; because the least fight can be had of God, surpasses all sorrow or delight which can be conceived by man; notwithstanding which superexcellence, yet it alters not in these souls the least grain, either of their contentment or sufferance.

SECT. IV.
A Declaration of what pass'd in the soul of S. Katharine of Genoua; conformable to this state of Purgatorie.

THE same manner of purgation which I discern of the souls in Purgatorie, I find in my own soul; especially, these two last years past, and every day I advance into a clearer perception of it. I perceive my soul seated in this body, as in a state of Purgation, suitable and correspondent to the local Purgatorie: still in that degree which the body may indure without dissolving; and yet by little and little still augment­ing, till the term comes of death and dissolution. I find my spirit alienated from all things (even spiritual ones) which might minister any nourishment; such as is any chearfulness, delight, or consolation; and it has no capacitie of savoring any thing whatever, temporal or spiritual, either by my will, my understanding, or memory; in such sort, as to be able to say, I am better pleas'd with one thing then with another.

My interior is besieg'd in such a manner that all things what ever offer'd any refreshment, either to the spiritual or corporal life, have been by little and little substracted from it; and since this sequestration, my spirit perceives that all such matters were food and refection for it: but being discern'd by it, to be of a consolatorie nature, they are all so much disliked and underva­lu'd, that they are vanish'd without ever returning: the reason is because the spirit is mov'd by a forcible instinct, to discharge it self of all impediments of perfection; to such a degree of self-rigor that it would almost consent to be put ev'n in hell, to attain its intention: wherefore it works earnestly in the sepa­rating of all such matter, wherewith the inward man may feed [Page 140] it self; and besieges it so subtilly, and so vigilantly, that the least mote of imperfection cannot pass into it without being discover'd and rejected.

And as for the exterior part, because the spirit in no sort corresponds with it, that likewise remains so straightned and besieged, that it can find nothing upon earth wherewith to so­lace it self suitable to its humane instinct and appetite. No other comfort is admittable, but God; who operates all this by his love, moved by his Mercie thus to satisfie his Justice. And this consideration imparts much peace and acquiescence, which nevertheless deducts nothing from the pain and pressure; nor could my soul indure so much as could move a wish of stirring never so little out of the divine ordination. She neither can get out of Prison, nor so far as to desire enlargment, till God hath wrought all that is requisite for her due purification: My only contentment being that God may be satisfi'd; nor can I conceive any greater torment then the least digression from the divine appointment, so just and so compassionating I apprehend it.

All these things which I have discours'd, I discern; and me­thinks, touch them, as it were; but cannot find words com­petent to express what I would deliver: that which I have ut­tered I find wrought spiritually in my self, and therefore I have declar'd it. The Prison wherein I conceive my self, is this World, the Band seems to be my Body, and my Spirit, enlight­ned by grace, is that which is sensible of the importance of being restrain'd or retarded by any impediment from the con­secution of its end and perfection; and this inflicts great tor­ture on the soul, by reason of the sharpness and subtiltie of this appetite of union with God: whose ardencie is rais'd by those steps she advances towards him; and consequently the pain is measur'd by the degrees of estimation she conceives of this di­vine conjunction. The more the soul is purg'd the clearer she lookes towards God, and the impediments seem the more ter­rible and afflicting; chiefly by reason that (remaining wholly apply'd and intent upon God, having no impedimental [Page 141] passion) she judges without any errour or seducement.

The compatibilitie of these two sentiments of pain and peacefulness in the soul may be illustrated, in this manner. As a man, who suffers himself rather to be kill'd then offend God, is sensible of dying and feels the pain of it; but the Divine grace kindles a zeal in him; which makes him value the honor of God more, then he apprehends corporal death: so the soul contemplating the order of God, considers more that will and appointment, then all the interior or exterior sufferances, how grievous soever they can be rendred; and this because God, by whom this work is wrought, excells all things that can be felt or apprehended. So that the participation which God af­fords the soul of himself (how little soever) holds her so im­ploy'd and immers'd in that Divine Majestie, that she can make no account of any other object whatsoever: therefore she de­vests all proprietie, and neither sees nor understands any pain or dammage singly referr'd to her self; all which (as hath been clearly exhibited in the former discourse) is discern'd by the soul in that instant, only when she passes out of this life. Finally, for the conclusion of all, it must be understood that Almightie God separates and annihilates all that is left of the man, and Purgatory works this refinement and purifica­tion.

SECT. V.
The Authors Conclusion upon this Dis­course.

THus have I shew'd the inside of Purgatorie to those who (perhaps) have hitherto seen the exterior figure only; and that design'd by such as accounting it a Chymera, have drawn [Page 142] it like one, with antique and extravagant lineaments: doing, as if the Priests of the [...]eathen should have expos'd only the outside of the statue of Silenus, which being in form of a Sa­tyre, was likelier to provoke contempt, then expectation of any thing within it to be reverenc'd; whereas being opened, it con­tain'd an Altar decently adorn'd with many things accounted sacred in their religion. The maligners of this doctrine of Purgatorie, have methinks, us'd a worse kind of indirectness in their exposure of it; by shewing only the exterior disfigur'd and colour'd over with fantastick and ridiculous suppositions; setting Indulgences about it, in wry and distorted positions, crookeded by venalitie and corruption. Such a deform'd picture they set forth of Purgatorie, as is drawn very often more by their aversion, then their apprehension; their own judgments not being so dark as their disaffections: But now I hope upon this insight I have given of the interior of this doctrine, I may flatter my self, that ev'n those who acknowledge not any thing sacred or religious in the substance of this point, cannot yet reproach any part of it as extravagant or unreasonable.

And this occasion remembers me of what pass'd with a per­son of our Nation (of a sharp and ingenuous spirit) concern­ing his sense of Catholick Religion; after he had been abroad awhile, and only seen some exterior practises of it, viz. such as pass through the streets in Processions; where Reliques and Images are sometimes carried in manners apt enough to scandalize strangers and undisciplin'd persons in the intention of the Church. Upon which misunderstanding, he was wont to slight and deride much her Ceremonies. In answer to some of his reproaches, he was ask'd one day by a Priest, if he (who seem­ed so malevolent to the Ceremonies of Catholique Religion) had ever been in the Churches, and seen the celebration of our highest misteries, and the performance of our Divine Services? he reply'd that he had already seen too much, since his liberties concerning it were already offensive: but (sayes he) if you will allow me the freedom of speaking out all I think, after this farther insight into your Church, I will goe with you to any [Page 143] solemn exercise of your Religion you shall desire. This con­dition was agreed by the Priest; who carry'd him to see high Mass said on some great Holiday, where the Gentleman be­hav'd himself with much modestie and attention to all that pass'd. And after his survey of the Church, with the order and observances practised; when he came back, being call'd upon to deliver his opinion of what he had seen; he answer'd, There is a great difference between your Church and your Street Religion; I confess 'tis great pittie this is not the true one, the order, decen­cie and majestie of your worship, savours so much, and becomes so well the direction to the greatness and majestie of the true God. To which the Priest reply'd, since you are better satisfi'd with the first step you have made within dores; let me propose to you a farther visit into the inside of our Church, (as I may well call the doctrinal and credential part of our faith:) the soundness and reasonableness whereof, will surely give your understanding a more proportionable satisfaction, then your eyes have recei­ved in the difference you have acknowledg'd between our Church and our Streets. Whereupon not long after, this per­son, by the same steps as he advanc'd into the interior part of our doctrine lodged his understanding wherever it came; and never receeded one step back, but remain'd firmly seated at length in the Catholick Church.

And truly, methinks, these three different views of Catho­lique Religion by an adversary, may be resembled to these three manners of seeing the Author of it, Christ Jesus. The first is such a kind of sight, as if one, who had heard Christ much de­fam'd for a Seducer of mean people, should have met with him afterward in the street, follow d only by fisher men, Publicans, and notorious sinners; considering which appearance, the un­dervaluing of him were not to be wondred at. The second is as if the same person should afterward have been perswaded to follow him into some house in which he convers'd with his fol­lowers: where reflecting upon the aminableness of his person, the sweetne [...]s of his behaviour, the meekness of his speech, the decencie of all his motions, the gravitie and order of all his [Page 144] actions; these exterior attractives would probably reconcile an ingenuous mind so far to him, as to suggest a desire of being clearly inform'd of his proposals and motives to the people. The third manner is, as if he should have pursued his informati­on by following Christ till he heard him preach his doctrine, and saw him confirm it by divers miracles: whereupon, in all apparence, he would have remain'd Christs Disciple.

Thus those who have heard Catholique Religion much tra­duc'd in point of the worship of Images and honouring of Re­liques, meeting a Procession in the streets, where the figures and reliques of Saints are expos'd with much respect and reverence, cannot at first be wondred at for believing this calumnie veri­fi'd; no more then a zealous Jew for crediting the Pharisaical aspersions, upon the first sight of Christ, apparently answerable to their accusations. Whilst those (who are mov'd but to visit the Catholique Church, with reverence and consideration of the exteriour religious offices corresponding to the familiaritie with Christ Jesus his outward and humane carriages and acts) will easilie be so far disprejudic'd in point of the doctrine, as to seek the acquainting their understandings with the grounds and rea­sons of this Religion; which answers to the hearing of Christ preach the conformitie of his moral precepts to right reason, and seeing him confirm his supernatural verities by divine Power. And in this method of surveying Catholique Religion, that is, by studiously examining the articles of Faith, there ap­pears so much consonancie with reason in all the practical part, and so great force of continued authoritie, constantly succeed­ing from Christs own mouth (which is no less convincing then a visible miracle) as in all likelihood will compose a body of motives necessarily prevalent, upon an ingenuous under­standing.

I may therefore after this long passage through this fire of love, modestly presume that it has warm'd the affections of such, to whose understanding it may perhaps not have given sufficient light. So that it is not unlikely, many may say with the Gentleman I mention'd, that our written differs much from [Page 145] our talk'd on Purgatorie; and that surely if this Theory be not true, 'tis great pitie it is not; since this exquisite refinement of souls seems to be reasonable, before their admittance into the incomprehensible puritie of God; and to have this purifi­cation wrought by love is such a means, as all generous hearts, would wish. For how many are there, that would prefer grie­vous suffering, consorted with great loving, before the being stupidly unaffected with either passion? Wherefore this cha­racter of Purgatorie will probably affect most of those fair in­genuous souls, to which I design it.

Before I shut up the dore of Purgatorie, I will affix this advice upon it, which may afford a plenarie Indulgence to both parties. To those who believe the doctrine, I will pro­pose the living, as if they believ'd it not; apprehending every voluntary venial sin, as if it were the fewel of the eternal fire, fomented by hatred, not by love. And to such as dis-believe it, I would urge the living as if they did apprehend such a state of transitorie punishment, appointed for all those frailties and faultinesses which they own in their lives; not relying upon their single faith for the removing of those mountains of straw and stubble, which our daily imperfections do accumu­late; but to be as punctual and precise in the taking off every single straw, that may incumber their conscience, as if it were to sink them below Purgatorie. And by this care, the first may happily, by Gods mercie, escape it: the last, by the same mercie, pass through it. The rectitude of their af­fections to God, having mov'd his goodness to rectifie their faith.

To which purpose, I will conclude with this Prayer, for all such whose conceived light is true darkness, That they may have the grace to embrace the belief of Purgatorie in this life, and escape the experience of it in the next: really passing as immediately to heaven, by the apprehension of It as they vainly promise themselves, in their dis-belief and incon­sideration of it.

Let, therefore, the result of this Discourse, to all Auditors, be the raising a most vigilant attention to this remonstrance of S. Peter, 2 Pet. 1 4 to the 10. that God hath given us exceeding great and preti­ous promises; that by these you may be partakers of the divine Nature; having escap'd the corruption that is in the World. Wherefore the rather brethren give diligence to make your cal­ling and election sure; for if you do these things, you shall never fall: but so an entrance shall be ministred to you abundantly, into the everlasting Kingdome of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

SECT. I.
What this Peace is; and the advantages of it.

HAving shew'd that grievous pain, and great peace are really consistent in this impecca­ble State of Purgation; it will be yet more useful to discuss how in this our present state of perillous temptation, a fair peace and serenitie of mind may be maintain'd in all our exteriour troubles and agita­tions.

'Tis much debated, what disposition or composure of mind is the most proper, in order to a spiritual progress and tendence to perfection: whether the enjoying much light; or remaining in privation and obscuritie: whether the being softned and sweetned by the dew of Heaven in the exercises of pietie, or be­ing [Page 148] exercised by dryness and barrenness of Spirit: and for the exterior condition, whether the ease of health, or the vexation of sickness, the conveniencie of plenty, or the constraint of po­vertie; the priviledge of honour, or the quiet of obscuritie, are the most conducing to a spiritual proficiencie; and it may be rightly determin'd that the readiest and safest way to this end, is to keep our mind in a constant peace, in all the several states and conditions of this life; to settle our spirit in an equal re­pose, and sustain that in an invariable acquiescence. So that this answer of the divine Oracle may resolve all inquiries,Psal. 33. Seek peace and pursue it.

Which being admitted, three things may happily be de­manded: First, what this peace of the mind is, and the bles­sings of it. The second, how we should obtain it. And the third, how we should conserve it.

To answer the first, we cannot do better then offer S. Augu­stines definition: Peace is the serenitie of the mind, the tranquili­tie of the soul, the simplicitie of the heart, and the band of love. And the same Author elsewhere spreads the branches of this root, more at large: saying, Peace is a ranking and disposing of things consonant and dissonant, in such proportion and order, that each one holds the proper place and rank belonging to it. Where­by he means (as he sayes himself) that Peace is nothing but the tranquilitie of Order: which consists, as S. Thomas explains it, in keeping all passions, wherewith a man may be affected, from rising into such a degree of turbulencie as may discompose the calm and tranquilitie of our understanding or affecti­ons.

Wherever things are in order and their natural position, there peace must consequently be found; and on the contrary where things are confus'd and misplac'd, there must certainly follow trouble and discord. In this sentiment S. Augustine sayes: While things are out of their rank and order, they are troubled and disquieted; as soon as they are reduc'd into their due place, they rest and are at peace. And in pursuit of this subject, he sayes, The peace of the body, is the just and equal [Page 149] temper of the first qualities, and the convenient position of all the parts of the body: the peace of the sensitive soul is the quiet of its appetites; the peace of the reasonable soul is the mutual concord between the faculties and their operations; and the peace of the whole man, consists in the conformitie of his will, to that of his Creator; This then is a declaration of what is meant by that term Peace.

And of this inestimable treasure (whereof the Mine is, ev'n in our own inclosure) we cannot make too great account: Wherefore the directors of spiritual life, advise the intendment of this peace of spirit, as the most solid foundation of all piety, considering that the two chief blessings of this life, are the grace of God and the peace of the soul; and consequently, the greatest evils are sin and disquiet; whereof the first extinguish­eth grace, and the last expels peace. Wherefore we may ob­serve that S. Peter makes this his first wish to those to whom he addresses his instructions: Grace and peace unto you be multi­ply'd. 1 Pet. 1 And S. Paul makes the same entrie into most of his Epistles, saying, (in pursuit of this recommendation) The wisdom of the Spirit is life and peace; Rom. 8.6. inferring that a spiritual life essentially consists in this interiour harmonious acqui­escence.

For as the life of the soul is grace, so the chief vital act of this soul, is this kind of peace. Hence it is, that when our ene­mie fails of his attempt upon our grace, he turns his assault up­on our peace of mind: which if by any artifice he can carry, the other is expos'd to imminent peril; a troubled mind having in it as many breaches for the evil spirit to enter, as it has seve­ral overtures of trouble and disquiet. And such spirits are not only laid open, but almost blinded, as to the defensive part; since the clouds of passion intercept the light of their discourse and reflections, by which they should act against this invasion: for there is no discompos'd soul that has not some tincture of that timiditie, which the holy Spirit sayes,Wisd. 17.11. is a betrayer of the consideration of succour.

Whereas peace and serenitie of mind afford a clear skie to­wards [Page 150] the discernment of the Enemies approaches; and in this calm light, the spirit looks easily round about, through all the latitude of our understanding, to reach defensive notions, counterpointed to the offensive suggestions. They therefore who desire to advance securely in the narrow way of Virtue and Pietie, ought in the first place to resolve a continual vigilance and attention upon this interior peaceful constitution; and likewise, indeavour an equal tranquilitie and composure in all their exterior demeanour: Whereby they may promise them­selves the arriving in safetie to a good measure of perfection; because this state is an excellent disposure of the soul for Divine Communications. Upon which subject S. John Climacus says, This tranquilitie of the soul is adorned with shining vertues, as the Firmament with stars; and may therefore be fitly called the Firmament of the Spirit. Wherein too, seems most manifest­ed that high Prerogative of the Grace of Christ,2 Pet. 1 S. Peter speaks of; Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious pro­mises, that by these we may be made partakers of the Divine Na­ture. For the soul in this State, becomes a lively image of that nature, which is infinitely sweet and calm, incapable of any trouble, whatever it does, or is done to it. And indeed this similitude is not acquired, by the activitie of the Spirit in any vertu, so much as by this equanimitie in all occurrences.

In all bodies that have circular motions, there is one point which rests firm and immoveable, and the parts nearest to that point, have the less motion; whereas those that are farthest from it make a larger circle, and move swifter: God is that immoveable point in the Universe, about which all the Crea­tures are turned; to whom the nearer we are seated, the less motion and unquietness we are subject to: and the more we are removed from him, the more we are agitated by violent revo­lutions. Wherefore David sayes of God, his habitation is of peace: whence it follows that the evil Spirits state is perpetuall trouble and agitation. As the whirlwind passes, so is the wicked; but the righteous is an everlasting foundation. Prov. 10, 2 [...]. In proof whereof, the holy Scripture always expresses the condition of the wicked [Page 151] by some restless similitude, as the circulation of a wheel, the ventilation of stubble before the wind, or the estuations of a stormy Sea. And on the contrary, the state of the righteous is always described by things fixed, serene, and uniform; as Rocks, Stars, and Columns. So that 'tis not only unquestion­able that this peace is the way to perfection; but it may be said, it is the perfection it self which this our imperfect conditi­on doth admit: For surely the perfectness of the soul rests in the peace and concord of all the powers, as that of the body doth in health, which is nothing but the peace of its humors and members. Wherefore S. Augustine sayes, Perfection is found in peace; and for that reason the children of God are called Peace-makers. And S. Ambrose affirms, the supremest point of wisdom is tranquilitie of spirit. In order whereunto, the great maxime of Spiritual persons is unum fieri, to become one; to remain in an identitie of mind. This is the nearest access we can make to that unitie from whence we are derived, and to the accomplishment of our Saviours prayer, being one, Ioh. 17. as his Father and he are one. And for our comportment in the exterior commerces incident to our vocations, this peace disposes us ex­cellently to converse with our neighbours, and qualifies us to treat with them more acceptably and more efficaciously▪ for this Maxime holds in moralitie, that it is proper for what is fixed and stable, to turn and move things moveable: So that a peaceable and setled mind is most capable to calm and pacifie such as are troubled and distracted. To this spirit of Christia­nitie the winds and the waves of Passions are obedient: for we have often experienced that the sweetness and meekness of the children of God (the blessed Peace-makers) hath allayed the storms of turbulent Spirits.

Since then this peace is so great a treasure, that it contains ev'n all Christian perfection; let us, by the advice of S. Paul, Heb. 4. Make haste to enter into this rest, since this spiritual Sabbath may be entered into by the sons of God. And such souls as celebrate this interior festivall of the holy Spirit, enjoy unconceiveable delights and solaces; of which even the body partakes as the [Page 152] animals among the Jews did of their Sabbath: for the peace and suavitie of the spirit over-flows the sensitive portion of the soul, and affects it with a sensible joy and delectation.

Of this state of Peace, the light of Nature gave the Philo­sophers some glimpses; but surely single reason is to this ac­complished composure of our spirit, but what the ceremonies of the Synagogue were to the Religion of the Church of Christ, viz. shadows only and figures of this reality: For the discourses of the ancient Rationalists did but prefigure this true and real serenitie of mind, which the holy Spirit was to effuse abundantly into the state of Christianitie. It is therefore a spe­cial gift solely appropriated to Christians. Whence our Savi­our is entituled the Prince of Peace, his Divine Person having brought it [...]t into humane nature by his conjunction with it. Wherefore S. Paul calls him, Our Peace: at his birth, the An­gels with joyful acclamations proclaimed this Peace; a little before his death, to shew he did not intend to carry it away with him, he left it by Testament to his Apostles; and after his resurrection, to confirm his donative, he saluted his Disci­ples often with, Peace be unto you; and to keep them in a con­tinual use of this gift, he commanded them to proceed in a fre­quent distribution of it to all houses where they should enter. Since his peace then is our portion, let it be our chiefest attenti­on and exercise;Wisd. 8.10. let us resolve with the Wise man. To take it to live with us, knowing that it will be a Counsellour of good things, and a comfort in all cares and vexations.

SECT. II.
Of the means to acquire this Peace.

AFter the exposure of this admirable blessing, methinks I see every one inamour'd of it, as it imports their case [Page 153] in this life; and addressing their suit to Christ with the Sama­ritan, for some of that water, which should keep them from ever thirsting, and taking so much pains as to come to the Well for their necessities. Every one would gladly have this Peace, that should quiet all their appetites, and save them the labour of con­tending against their own Passions and the sence of all exterior injuries: so that if it could be had for once asking, there would none be destitute of it: but when we must sell all we have for this Pearl, many retire with the young mans possession; and choose rather to venture their peace then to part with their pas­sion. And to excuse this pusilanimitie, answer, as the Jewes were forbid to do by Moses, Deut. 30. Which of us is able to goe up to hea­ven to bring it down to us? So much difficultie many object to unblame their faintness, or to cover their predominant fancie: but I may answer this evasion with S. Paul, Rom. 10 This Peace is nigh thee, ev'n in thy mouth, and in thy heart: seek it but there and you shall find it, as soon as you have but voided your heart of those cupidities that cover it.

The best means then of finding this peace is to purge our minds from erroneous and false opinions: for commonly, mis­apprehensions induce most of our disquiets. How many things vex us without any cause? our imagination anticipates many evills, which never really befal us; and are we not very often like children frighted with Visards? Upon which experience Seneca sayes, What we see happen to beasts, we shall find man subject to, if we examine the extravagances of his fears. The very colour of red enrages a Bull; an Aspe rises up and shoots it self at a shadow, the shaking of a linnen cloath affrights Bears and Lions. All wild and savage Natures are easily mov'd, and to the same terrors light and unsteddy minds are abnoxious; the least doubt or appearance of any displeasure is enough to confuse and distract them. Wherefore one of Pythagoras's first principles was, not to goe in the high wayes, which is, not to follow the vulgar opinions concerning the goods and evils of this life.

Upon this ground this course is to be taken, When any [Page 154] lovely alluring object attracts our desires, or any contrary one moves our aversions, we must beware not to suffer our affections to be carryed away with the first impressions; but pause and hold, as it were, this discourse with our desires, Stay, pass not fo ward, till I have examin d this object▪ whence it comes, whither it tends, what it brings, and what it will leave behind it: Let us constantly make thi [...] discussion; for thereon depends the li­bertie or servitude of our Spirit our peace, or our perplexity.

Whoever then will possess his own mind must allow all foreign and exterior things very little power over his affections: which precaution is expressly given us by the holy Spirit, a heart that knows his own bitterness, a stranger doth not intermix in his joy. Prov. 1.25. And to avoid the intervention of any stranger, he must fill it up with the master of it, and seek his peace and felicitie in the residence of God in all the powers of his mind; leaving no vacuitie for company unfit for his attendance.

The error of the Philosophers was, that man might be fully content with himself, drawing his happiness out of the stock of his own reason; and their most spiritual morals suppose this self-sufficiencie: which abuse S. Augustin reprehends in them, and assures that a more noble cause is required for that effect, name­ly, the contemplation of the presence of God in us, because na­turally of our selves we are variable and unquiet; our understan­ding, will, and all our faculties are inclined to error, variation, and trouble; insomuch that we must rather go out of our selves, then stay in them to find a f [...]xure and establishment, that qualitie being only attainable by adhering to something immoveable.

The more we adhere to our selves, the more we are expos'd to fluctuation, because the very ground of our Nature is a con­tinual Earthquake, so that the less we rest upon our own bottom the firmer we prove: We must therefore fasten our selves to that head which was content to be nailed to procure stabilitie for his members; and certainly the only way to perfect firm­ness of Spirit, is (that which the wisdom of the world accounts folly) S. Paul's confixure to the cross w [...]th Christ. There is no stab lay of spirit but what is fastned by his nails; which we may properly call these three vertues. The first is Patience, whose [Page 155] proper fruit is peace; the propertie of this vertue is to give the mind a temper of proof against the evils of this life; which do but glance upon it, without piercing it, or leaving those disfigu­ring scars of inordinate anger, sorrow, or any other passion. Tertullian makes this lovely figure of Patience, Her whole coun­tenance is calm and pleas'd, her forehead not unsmooth'd by any wrinkle either of grief or anger, her [...]ight modestly bending under eye-lids that express a moderate pleasedness, her mouth clos'd in honour of silence, her complexion such as is deri­ved from innocence, and preserved by assurance: Wherefore Christ tells his Disciples,Luk 21 19. that in patience they shall possess their souls. So that the pr [...]ctice of this vertue is absolutely necessa­ry towards the maintenance of peace; for since our life con­sists of continual vicissitudes of different temptations and suffe­rances, 'tis not possible to conserve tranquilitie without this shel­ter of patience: and a soul that is well fortifi'd w [...]th it, can hard­ly lose her peace by any forein hostilitie, as the Psalmist pro­mises, a thousand shall fall at his side, Psal. 90 7. and ten thousand at his right hand, but it shall not come nigh him.

The other nail of the Cross is Humilitie: which our Saviour himself drives into our minds with his own hand, Learn of me to be humble and meek of heart, and you shall find rest in your souls. We cannot doubt of this effect, upon this assurance; and sure­ly true humilitie has this advantage of conferring the treasure of a solid peace of spirit; because it rejects all anxietie, displeasure, or fear of depression, contempt, or injurie. For undoubtedly if we narrowly examine the cause of our sorrowings and dis­quiets, we shall find their spring to rise in some cover'd pride, some subtle ambition, or some secret self-estimation, and always for want of true humilitie; it being evident that if a man did keep his thoughts in his own Center of nullitie, wherein real humi­lity will fix him, he must needs find rest and tranquilitie: but while he is out of this Center, he must consequently move and waver in a continual unsteddiness.

The third fastning to the Cross; is a suppression, or at least, a compression and contracting of our desires. For since all dis­pleasures [Page 156] rise from the disappointment of some desire; the fewer we have of them, the less we are subjected to disturbance. And doth not the holy Spirit ascribe all our unpeaceableness to our cupiditie;James 4.1. from whence come wars and strifes? come they not hence, ev'n of your cupidities which war in your members? So that the multiplicitie of desires is the seed of all our interior quarrels: for ev'n the success of the greatest part of them cannot secure our tranquilitie, since the miscarrying of any one inter­mixes some trouble and displeasure; those who have divers passions are witnesses of the inconsistencie of peace with plurali­tie of pretentions. Since then the contracting our desires, is the only address to a constant composure of Spirit; surely the best application is to direct them to that, which in One, contains all things, namely, a conformity and confixure to the will of God in all occurrences. This union of our affections instates us in the fruition the Prophet David describes, Great peace have they who love thy law, and nothing shall offend them. An adhe­ring to the law of providence, renders even all changes and vi­cissitudes our own pretentions: for our unhappiness rises not from our being oblig'd to any thing, but our being averse to that obligation. Let then all the pretenders to peace, procure to simplifie and unifie their desires by this single address to the will and order of God: for the seeking varieties in the Crea­tures, is but a looking to find what we have lost by missing the unitie of the Creator; it is but the being out of our way that makes us range and cast about into several quarters; which is a consequence of our first straying and deviation.

Having exhibited the means of acquiring this happy state of Peace, we must follow the method of the holy Spirit, which sayes not only, Seek peace, but pursue it too. It remains there­fore that we endeavour to offer some directions for the conser­vation of this treasure, having once gotten it; that when a man has found this peace which the soul loveth, he may hold it, and and not let it goe; Cant. 3. untill it bring the Spirit into the chamber of his mother, of her who conceiv'd it.

SECT. III.
Of the means to conserve this Peace of Spirit.

IT was a very wise reproach which Augustus laid upon A­lexander, when he wondred how Alexander could appre­hend the want of exercise for his vertue after the conquest of the whole world; saying that the securing its dominion requi­red no less vertuous activitie then the conquest. And surely the same maxim holds in this our spiritual warfare, in this our little world: wherein after the subjection of all our passions, and the concerting of our interiour peace, a continual vigilancie and activitie of Spirit, is requisite for the duration and permanencie of this concord. It is no rare thing to have some intervals of stil­ness and tranquilitie of mind; for ev'n the vitious, whose passions are in some voluptuous chase, if they chance to seize their prey, enjoy a few moment's peace in that fruition; till satietie invites them to some change of appetite, and proposes new motion and pursuit of some fresh cupiditie, by which means the end of the past pleasure is the beginning of some pain. In reference whereunto, the Psalmist sayes, repentance and infelicitie is in their wayes, and they have not known the way of peace: for, as we said before, Peace is the tranquilitie of Order; and the inter­mitting peace of the voluptuous is but the easie motion of disor­der, there being nothing of real acquiescence in the highest pitch of their fruitions. So that if we reflect upon their satis­factions, we shall find the peace of the ungodly is nothing but unpunish d disorder. Some short truces they have upon the ta­king and possessing some fortifi'd and defended passion; but commonly 'tis scarce time enough to burie the dead pains and [Page 158] difficulties, (that is, to forget the troubles and disquiets this suc­cess has cost them) b fore some new desire rises up, and as­saults their present quiet; insomuch that besides their mortal enemie, their conscience, ev'n their cupidities, which they ac­count the most friendly, do certainly entertain an interior mu­tiny and commotion: Wherefore the holy Spirit affirms, there can be no peace to the wicked.

And as the worlds suitors have some easie intervals of superfi­cial peace; so have ev'n Gods sincerest seekers some uneasie in­termissions, wherein the exterior or sensitive portion of their mind is mov'd and agitated; but this emotion is but as the shaking of the leaves and branches in a strong wind, according to Jobs Metaphor; while the shaft and root are not at all stirr'd or unfastned. We must not therefore expect to exempt this part of humane Nature from the agitation of the first impulses of our several affections. The treasure (sayes S. Paul) which we carry in an earthen vessel, is not the less for having so brittle a cover: wherefore he declares, though we are troubled on every side, yet we are not distressed; and the preserving our spirits from distress in the disturbance of our senses, is that point of equanimitie in all occurrences, which our advices are di­rected to maintain. In order whereunto, we must consider, that all action wherein we issue out somewhat of our selves, ought to be manag'd so that we may remain masters of what we export upon all occasions; which cannot be, unless we pon­der and proportion our attention to the importance of the acti­on. And to be able to measure our application adequately to our business, we must endeavour not to enter into any action with a mind either alienated or passionate: for the one looks another way, while it should mark its own path and steps; and the other over-looks all the way, gazing only at the end, with­out a convenient designing of the means. Wherefore both these dispositions are unapt to produce a good issue; and by consequence, are unlikely to m [...]intain tranquilitie of mind. Hence the Philosophers reproach'd the world▪ that few or none conducted their actions by councel, but the most floated upon [Page 159] the stream of custom; being rather carryed away by some exteriour violence, then lead on by quiet consideration.

To possess our selves therefore fully before we dispe [...]se them into action, we ought to recollect our selves a little, e're we en­ter into any exercise; and as it were, tune our minds, and set them to their right key before we begin to use them; ac­cording to the substance, which is the goodness of our action. The first circumstance we ought to weigh, is the time; which when we have determin'd, we must not seek to precipitate, but calmly observe the occurrence of it. All things have their time (sayes Solomon) and the wise mans heart discerns both time and judgment, because to every purpose there is time and judgment. Wherefore our Saviour answer'd those who press'd him to ad­vance his charitie, My hour is not yet come: he did not hasten it, but attended it in a peaceful conformitie.

Next, having once resolved upon the opportunitie of our entry into any action, we must beware of setting a peremptorie time for the finishing it; in such a positive manner at least as that, whatever comes on't, we resolve to end our work at such a time; for such a determin'd prefixure indangers our disquiet when any thing intervenes to intercept that assignment; and in all designs we must allow somewhat to spare for intervenient accidents. VVe should therefore only resolve to assign so much time as shall be requisite to finish our work, without any prescrib'd limitation.

It is likewise very important in all our prosecutions, not to act with too much earnestness and hasting our selves. A sted­die diligence carries forward farther then loose precipitation: upon which ground Tacitus complains, that ev'n good men fall often by over-hasting themselves; and sayes, that in what­ever we vehemently either love or hate, leasure and pawsing is alwayes safest: celeritie and certaintie are peculiar only to heavenly motion. And in order to this truth, Solomon sayes, The lame man in the way out-goes a courser; to warn us that pres­sing haste more likely carryes us out of our way, then faster to our end.

To maintain our peace at home, we must likewise provide for our safe commerce abroad with our neighbour; because we are easily mov'd and disturb'd, when we meet with froward and unreasonable negotiators of affairs. Wherefore to secure our temper, we must consider it is no common thing to meet a reasonable treater of business, nor is it an easie matter to rectifie crooked and perverted understandings. Remember what pains ev'n Christ Jesus took with men; and yet with the help of his mi­racles, how few he converted; account the perswading of ano­ther out of his own sense a difficult matter, and you will not be easily troubled at the unprevailing of your own reason. Con­sider of what kind of persons Solomon sayes, there is an infinite number; and answer your self in the rejectings of your reason, with this Animadversion,Prov. 18. A fool receives not the words of the wise, unless he speaks such things as are in his own heart.

Considering therefore the nature of man, it follows evident­ly, that we ought not to undertake, either too much business, or any of an importance disproportion'd to our state or capa­citie; lest either the number or the weight of our affairs may confuse or oppress us: no body is apt to overcharge himself with a material burthen, yet how many are forward to do it with mental ones? To correct this unadvisedness, Seneca sayes, that the sound advice of Democritus will avail very much towards the securing our peace of mind, viz. neither in our particular fortune, nor the publique concernment, to imbrace either more or greater business then we can discharge. For whoever in­gages himself in many imployments, will hardly ever pass a day without some cross encounter to disorder him, either from the men with whom, or the affairs which he negotiates. Whence it follows, that to deliver us from these troublesome inciden­cies, when we have any business undertaken or committed to us, we ought to measure our capacities with our designs, and compare our humors with those we are to communicate: and if they be persons passionate, suspitious, scrupulous, or any other way uneasie to converse with, we must use several prepa­rations of our spirits, respecting the tempers of our negotia­tors; [Page 161] remembring alwayes this rule, that It is not the perfecti­on, but the proportion of reason which works upon the minds of men.

And in order to the securing our peace, this must be always resolv'd, In case any body interrupt our enterprise, or ev'n to­tally defeat it, not to admit any violent anger, but strive to contain ev'n our exteriour resentments; considering that who­ever disappoints us in one good action, gives us an occasion of exercising another, namely, an act of patience; and we must reflect, that in Christianitie, suffering is a nobler thing then act­ing; and whoever peaceably overcomes his own natural repug­nancie to misadventures, obtains a greater victory then the ma­stering of any exterior opposition.

This point is likewise very wel worth advising, not to be much mov'd by the crossings and vexations we meet with through the ignorance or negligence of our own servants. This restraint of our natural indignation against such as are subjected to us, is a great and difficult vertue, because we have no outward hold upon our nature to bridle it, upon these occasions where we may so safely let loose our passion; and this full swing that our hu­mor finds without any resistance, may easily produce a habit of anger in us, which will discompose our interior no less then a contested exercise of our passion. And surely those are the most dangerous vices, which are practised with the most case and indempnitie.

As they that us'd to debauch with their own domesticks are not so much expos'd to the outward ill consequences, but are the apter therefore to set their affections upon those vices they enjoy with such conveni [...]nce, without any check to their depra­ved inclination: so those who are accustom'd to let loose this passion of anger upon such subjects where it finds no difficulty to repress it; as they are less liable to outward quarrels and contests; so are they more apt to contract a habit of that passi­on, and more frequently in danger of an interiour trouble and displeasure, by reason they find no sensible curb to hold in their vitiated nature. We should rather therefore in this case, do as [Page 162] we are wont when we are to act any part publickly; we com­monly practice it before our domesticks and familiars, to per­fect us for the publick discharge: so this part of peace and com­posedness of mind, which we are to perform upon all publick occasions, we should practice with our private and familiar pro­vocations, to confirm us in a peaceful and equal temper in all the occurrences of foreign temptations.

Since we cannot hope to extinguish all wishes and desires re­ferring to this world, in the paucity and good conduct of those few necessary ones consists the security of this propos'd peace. We must therefore studiously observe the letting pass the first impulse and impetus of our nature; and determine neither end nor means upon our first conceptions: but let them stand and cool, and after they have setled, then draw second thoughts out of them. For we must remember we have been plants and beasts before we came to be men; that is, we have continued long in the acts of meerly vegitative and sensitive nature, before we got to the Reasonable; whence commonly our first moti­ons savour still, most of the irrational, being but strains of pas­sion; and the second cogitations are only the products of rea­son and discernment. So that when you find any ardour or ve­hemence in your desires, suspect and pause upon them; though they be instincts, seeming never so pious and zealous. For all acts of our mind rising with eagerness and emotion, (though they may aim at a good end, yet) are not likely to choose the properest means; because over-pressing and acceleration ad­mit not weighing and measuring, which are requisite for pru­dent election.

This rule of debated and deliberate proceeding, holds ev'n in our zeal for the conversion of souls, which is the most divine function we can exercise: and as it is a copying of our Saviour, so ought it to be perform'd in his spirit which is void of all trouble and passion. Let us in all such applications, remem­ber that our good Angel moves us, and design to work upon others, as he doth upon us; with such a kind of orderly com­munication. For our own perfection ought to be much more [Page 163] attended, then that of others: wherefore we must not impair our own in the least degree, to improve never so much our neighbours (because God hath setled that order in our chari­tie;) but make only so much haste to bring peace into our neighbours house, as that we indanger not the shedding any of our own by the way. For the feet of those that evangelize peace, are never so beautiful as when they come softly, choo­sing the fairest way with a calm deliberation.

This part of moderation in point of gaining others, is not so uneasie, as that we are to act in our own losses and distresses: as in our deprivements of health, honour, friends, and fortune: for ev'n in all these assaults and stormings of adversitie, we must seek to defend our interior peace. In order whereunto we may reflect temperately upon the nature of those things that can so easily be forc'd from us; and presently apply our selves to maintain that which we cannot lose without betraying our selves: which is making a benefit of all these privations, if we render not up our tranquilitie of spirit: but part quietly with all other ornaments, restoring them as lent goods, which brought no interior peace with them, and therefore have no right to car­ry any away. Let us raise our thoughts as soon as we can out of this moveable world, so shall we find no want of what must roll along with the worlds revolution: and if we advance our spirits as far upward as heaven, we shall find all those perish­able goods transmitted thither, and transmuted into an incor­ruptible species. Wherefore in this case, the receipt that con­tains the vertue of all other precepts, is (as soon and frequently as we can) to form lively acts of Faith, Hope, and Charitie, the objects whereof are eternal felicitie: which we may antici­pate, in some manner, by these acts of our mind; and conse­quently, with much ease, bear the disfurniture of such transito­rie moveables, as were rather ornaments then materials of our fabrick; considering that this denudation may prove the grea­test beautifying of our spiritual edifice.

Nay, this peace of mind, propos'd is so important towards the consummation of the new man, that it must not be infring'd, [Page 164] no not by our spiritual losses: for ev'n our own faults and im­perfections ought not to interrupt it; which seems a reasonable occasion to disquiet us. To secure our peace against this so fair pretence of disturbance, we must be advis'd not to enter into any sharp or froward displeasedness upon the occasions of our defects and frequent lapses. We must not remain dejected or dismay'd upon our frail retrogradations and returns to our per­verted inclinations. We must not use this common discom­pos'd discourse, That we shall never mend, having so often re­laps'd; and that it is not to be hoped we shall rectifie this or that enormitie in our nature, or suppress such a passion: for such like sentiments that seem the fruits of penitence, commonly do not so much as grow upon the root of Grace; but rather upon the stock of our proud nature which disdains to fail so often, and indure that reviling. But certain it is, as much as we de­duct from the peace of our mind, so much we substract from our abilitie to cooperate with the grace of God towards our reformation: for this disorder'd emotion contracts and pin­ches our spirits, cools our affections by the belief of improba­bilitie of amendment; and drives us sooner into despair, then into a fervent diligence towards our redress. Never did trou­ble and disorder of mind contribute to the purgation of a soul, no more then the rubbing our eyes doth to the taking out of them a mote or flie: For this sort of vexation but closes the eye of our reason; whereas calm and quiet consideration doth, as it were, open the eye lids, and gently remove the impedi­ment. Hence it is that whatever distracts and confuses us, breaking our peace of spirit, comes not from Grace; but ei­ther from our nature, or the enemie of it, who seeks to blind us with these flashes of his lightnings.

Our course must therefore be upon all our failings and reci­divations presently to turn our hearts upon God without trou­ble or impatience; humbling our selves profoundly before his mercie; acknowledging freely our fault, and that without his succour we had faln much lower; avowing in his presence our strong propension to all ills, and our impotencie towards any [Page 165] good; endeavouring to conceive a real and sincere sorrow for our sin; asking pardon with the confidence of a child to a fa­ther, with a firm purpose of never relapsing into the same fault: for which purpose, we must use special attention to avoid all in­ducements to that infirmitie, and not amuse our selves in the disquisition of many disquieting punctilios: as, Whether we have confess'd all; whether we have produc'd an act of true con­trition; whether our sins be remitted, or such like scrupulous dis­cussions, which serve to wrack, not to rectifie a conscience.

This we ought to practice in all relapses; and (with the same order and confiding in God, and an equal repose of spirit at the last as well as first confession) bring with us always since­ritie in the desire of amendment, and humilitie for our impro­ficiencie: both which are darkned and dissipated by the disor­der of our spirit. We are most in danger of this answer, Ne­scio vos, I know you not, when the image of God (our reason) is the most disfigur'd by irregular motions. There is much difference between a contrite and a confus'd heart: the first is press'd by grace under the weight of reasonable sorrow, the other is but broken with natures falling upon it: for natural grief alwayes brings some disorderly parting and dissipating of the spirit.1 Cor. 7 Whence S. Paul rejoyces not that his penitents did sorrow, but that they did sorrow according to a godly manner, that they might receive dammage in nothing. This peace therefore and composure of mind, wherein our sorrow works fortiter & suaviter, strongly and sweetly, is to be intend­ed; and all unquiet exercise ev'n of well-apply'd sorrow, is to be discouncell'd: that in our suing for eternal peace to God, we may appear members of our great Peace maker; who, in the bearing of all sins and sorrows, never lessened his interior state of rest and acquiescence.

Next we must be advised that the great enemie of our peace (when he finds minds so well ordered that he cannot easily raise their desires or passions to a seditious insurrection) labours very often to corrupt ev'n their pious dispositions, to trouble and disquiet them with scruples and terrors of conscience; by [Page 166] which suggestions, their peace of spirit is very much disturb'd: for when we look through this perspective of a scrupulous ima­gination, all our fears and apprehensions are multiply'd to such a degree, that ev'n flies appear monsters, the least of our infir­mities seem horrid infidelities; and by these false terrors, our minds are kept in continual alarms that admit not repose and settlement, which is that state God requires for a congruous co­operation with his grace. As God allows not libertinism and dissolution, so doth he not impose any constraint or pressure up­on our spirits, to which his Spirit imparts a holy frankness and libertie: Where the Spirit of God is, there is libertie, sayes the Apostle; and liberty is as connatural to the soul of man, as constraint and composure of mind are incompatible. All ex­terior violence will admit interior peace, because our will may conform to all imposures; but when the will is dissenting and repugnant to the exigence, there can be no peaceable constitu­tion. Since then this freedom of spirit is essentially requisite to the peace propos'd, the remedie of those scruples which pain and press our spirits, is much to be desired: and surely there is no so ready and safe delivery from these perplexing apprehen­sions, as to resign our understandings quickly and entirely to the conduct of some prudent spiritual Director, without refle­ction upon our own suggestions; resolving that (under the no­tion of self-relinquishment, and committing our selves to the order of Gods Ministers) nothing that remains within the compass of a doubtful ill, can be criminal to the submitting party. This consideration may quickly quiet and assure all the most shie and starting apprehensions of a scrupulous consci­ence; which may boldly say in this case of relyance on Gods Minister, I will answer to those that reproach me, that I have rely'd upon thy word.

Having represented to you the nature, beauty and benefit of this peace of spirit, with the means to acquire and conserve it: I hope this discourse will detect the errour of many who seek peace in the pursuance of their passions, and (as the [Page 167] Wise man reproaches them) living in a great war of igno­rance, call so many and so great evils, peace. Wisd. 14.23. There is no doubt but such a treasure requires a mining deep for it; and is never found, as Solomon sayes, In the soft earth of effeminate li­vers. Whoever then shall be perswaded by the grace of God to seek peace and pursue it, by due means prescrib'd, shall upon his purchase, confess with the Wise man, I have labour'd but a little, and found much rest: Wisd. 7.10. for in this acquisition is fully veri­fi'd, I have loved it above health and beautie, for the light that comes from it never goes out; all good things come along with it.

SECT. I.

Isa. 14. HOW art thou faln from heaven, Lucifer! thou son of the morning? The Prophet soon answers his own wonder, thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will be like the most High. Here we find Pride so much out of the way to heaven, as that created nature, (which was plac'd so near it by creation, that it was a wonder how he could miss the way,) did notwithstanding mistake it by pre­sumption; and fell into an immensurate distance from it, carrying the next excellent nature to his own along with him.

We may well then ask with the Prophets wonder, How didst thou rise again Adam, thou son of darkness? Ev'n by a means more wonderful then the fall of Lucifer, viz. an humilitie stranger then his pride: He in whom it was no robbery to equal himself to God, bow'd down the heavens, and descended, and took upon him the form of a servant, humbling himself even unto death By this humilitie man was drawn out of the center of darkness: [Page 169] whereas by pride, Angels fell from their fulness of light, into that center where they remain chain'd by its inflexibilitie, for ever. So that our way to heaven is mark'd out solely through the straight and narrow path of humiliation.

And in pursuance of this order of mans restauration, Humi­litie was that blessed mould of earth, into which the first seed of Christian Faith was cast; for that humble abashment where­with the blessed Virgin received her first glorious salutation, was that disposition the holy Ghost testifi'd to be the most pro­per for his possessing and overshadowing this Vessel of Grace. Which truth he proclaims by her own mouth, (ascribing to her humilitie, Gods exaltation of her,) because God hath looked upon the humilitie of his hand-maid, therefore all generations shall call me blessed: Insomuch, that we may say, an humble heart was the first womb honour'd by our Saviours con­ception.

O what different issues had our first mothers aspiring, and our second mothers self-depressing! how forward was the firsts pride to confide ev'n in a Serpent, that promis'd her the becoming like a God, and how backward was the seconds mo­destie to believe ev'n an Angel, that anuntiated to her such an exaltation, as the being overshadow'd by God? The first alas, who look'd so boldly upward to heaven, had her eyes opened, only to cast them down upon her own shame; whereof she was quickly fain to be beholding to beasts for a covering: whilst the second, who look'd downward in such a self-despection, had her eyes opened and fix'd on heaven to see her glory in be­ing over-shadow'd by the holy Ghost; which was the cover­ing of the nakedness of all mankind: such are the different pro­ductions of Pride and Humilitie.

Surely as Faith is the root of Christianitie, so humilitie may well be call'd the shaft and body of the Plant, and methinks this may be fairly adapted to it, which is the great praise of the Orange tree; whereof 'tis said the body is of brass, the flow­ers of silver, and the fruit of gold: for the substance of this vertue is so strong, that it indures all things, resisting all changes [Page 170] of seasons without decay or diminution; it bears flowers of candor, affabilitie, and innocence in our lives and conversations, sending forth the good odour of Christ; and its fruit is purity and charity, which is the gold of Christianitie, as it sets the price, and rules the commerce of all Christian vertues. So that these three properties are aptly adjusted to the qualities of this admirable Plant: whereof the Serpent seems to have so near kill'd the root in Paradise, that there grew very little of it in the earth, till Christ Jesus shed the seed of it again into his mo­ther; and grew himself in the earth to the highest pitch of it, that ev'n faith can reach to, ev'n to an exinanition of him­self. What can be conceiv'd more to exalt this inestimable ver­tue?

Of all Christian vertues, there is none so familiarly own'd, and in reality so rarely possess'd; whereof the reason seems to be, that it is the cheapest counterfeited; for the exterior figure of it costs our nature less then that of other vertues. None can make a shew of Patience or Charitie without great expence to our Nature; the very outward handsom carriage of crosses and injuries, without any interior conformitie, costs us much self-constraint; and likewise the apparent exercise of communica­tive charitie, when it is practised upon an unchristian motive, requires some self-deprivement: but the casting our exterior upon a mould of seeming humilitie costs us no expropriation; the very counterfeit fashion of the world renders it almost ha­bitual. Hence it is, that we see so much of this seeming hum­bleness in the commerces of the world; which is indeed but like the wild Orange tree, that has the same bark, and bears as fresh leaves, but neither flowers nor fruit: so this wants both the odour, and the cordial vertue of the right Plant of sincere Humilitie.

This admitted, it must needs be very useful to give the world an overture into the inside of real Humilitie; which S. Teresa doth excellently in this definition, Humilitie is practical veritie: which more explain'd; intends that It is a right understanding of our selves, by an evidence of our own unworthiness; so that in [Page 171] other terms, Christian humilitie is a clear inspection into, and a full despection of our selves. And surely, as Divines say, that ev'n the purest separated souls are not qualifi'd for seeing the Divine Essence, but by a special supplement which they call the light of glory; by the proportions whereof, every one dis­cerns more or less of that beatifical vision: so we may say, that ev'n the clearest-sighted minds, in this complex'd conditi­on, are not sufficiently dispos'd for this self-discernment, with­out the supernatural accession of the light of Grace by which they are qualifi'd for the perception of their own despicable nul­litie; and according to their degrees of this light, they make more or less penetration into this veritie, which is manifested by the lives of the most eminent Saints: whose humilitie has al­wayes held proportion with all their miraculous sanctitie.

This definition detects to us the currant error of the world; where commonly every one proportions to himself his humili­tie, by his temporal birth and condition, rather then by his spi­ritual estate and regeneration: when indeed the humilitie of our head Christ Jesus should run through all his members; like the blood in our natural veins, of which each vessel has his proper fulness deriv'd from the same spring, and proportion'd to the several uses they are to afford the whole body. We must there­fore endeavour to undeceive the world in these misconceptions it has both of the nature and the measures of Humilitie. For in the ordinary commerces of mankind, all affabilitie and fair proportioning themselves to the societie, (without any manifest presumption) is accounted sufficient humilitie; and in Courts, courtesie, civility, and officiousness has that estimation: (which commonly are but Garden flowers, growing upon the stalk of self-love; and so we see them fairer or less blown, according to the air of applause they are set in:) but this is not the soil wherein humilitie thrives; for it may be fitly said of it, non invenitur in terra suavitur viventium: it seldom grows in this soft delicate sort of earth; not that it will not live, if it be well rooted in any soil; ev'n in that where these thorns of worldly solicitudes and riches abound most, toward [Page 172] the choaking it: nay, our great Lord and Master expects the growth of this Plant in these rich grounds; for it is upon this stock of povertie of spirit, that our Palms are graffed, which we gather in this world, and carry in our hands into Paradise. Wherefore the holy Spirit advises the rich man to glory only in his humilitie.

SECT. II.
The obligation of the highest conditions to conserve humilitie.

SUre it was by a special providence, that the Disciples of Christ ask'd him this question, Who shall be the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven? to which he made a child give them their answer, to enlighten them in the disproportions between greatness in order to heaven, and that of this world: for had not Christ determin'd this question, the Kings and Gran­dees of the earth would find few proposers of humilitie and self-abasement to them; and those few would hardly find any converts to this doctrine. But since the King of Heaven Christ Jesus, has declared, that not only the ranks are allotted by the measures of humility, but ev'n the entrie is condition'd upon a great proportion of humbleness and simplicitie of spirit, (affirm­ing, that unless we become like little children, we shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven:) This obliges all such as have commissi­on to speak with them of heaven, to exhibit to those great ones this their Kings Proclamation, Learn of me, for I am meek and humble of heart. So that this injunction is consistent with all their exterior elevations who are of Christs order; as well as their interior humiliation, and all Christs spiritual exactions are competent with his temporal orders. Souls have no visi­ble [Page 173] degree of eminence in the world, and may therefore com­ply with this duty of self-depressing, which the bodies of Prin­ces cannot descend to, without infringing the publick order of Superioritie. But the Prince may have as much humilitie in his heart, as the Petitioner in his hand; and he that gives alms may be as poor in spirit, as the receiver of them. All the exte­rior expressions of this vertue derive their value from the heart; and the several apparent exercises of it, are to be squar'd respe­ctively to the divers parts we hold in the civil body of socie­tie: the head and the feet have their proper evidences and act­ings of this vertue; which I may call The soul of practical Christianitie.

Princes are commonly stiled the Images of God, in respect of their superioritie in administration of temporal Justice. And by this vertue, methinks I may not unaptly say they become most special images of Christ Jesus, as he was God and Man: since humilitie seems to make a kind of hypostatical Union be­tween their sacred persons and their humane Nature: for though their persons seem divine, yet their natures must appear humane; that is to say, though their persons are exteriorly in­thron'd with all majestie and glory, yet their interior must be all meekness and humanitie; which in conformitie to Christ, should make this proclamation to all their subjects, Come and learn of me for I am meek and humble of heart; and endeavour, in pursuance of this similitude, to make their yoaks sweet, and their burthens light.

The Cross which is set as the highest part of our Princes Crowns, is not there to beautifie the exterior figure; but to ex­press the interior duty of their Office: it is not a meer specious, but a speaking character; insinuating the spirit of that original of Kings (by whom they all reign) and intimating that the Spirit of Christ should be seared in the highest part of their Royaltie. Methinks we may well convince Princes in this point as Christ himself did the Tribute-gatherers, asking them, whose character is the cross they wear upon the top of their Crowns? to which they must necessarily answer that it signifies Christs [Page 174] dominion over them: Give then (may we reply) unto Christ, that is Christs; let him reign in you, as you do by him: let benignitie, meekness, and humilitie appear in the most eminent parts of your Office: for he who hath not the Spirit of Christ, is none of his Image. Rom. 8.

And in my contemplation of this original, by which I am drawing and coppying the spirits of Princes, this thought of­fers it self to me; which methinks serves very pertinently for my design. It is manifest that the humilitie of Princes cannot be modell'd by the figure of Christ conversing upon earth; be­cause his exterior was destitute of all those outward dues which are essential to their Office. But I may say, just as Christ has now stated himself upon earth, so humilitie ought to be in the Monarchs of it. For we know Christs body is really and in­tirely in the blessed Sacrament, though not in a visible form or according to local extention; in like manner, though humility be not expos'd in the sensible apparences of the condition of Princes, yet must it be in them really and compleatly; howe­ver the exterior marks of their dignitie admits not a local ma­nifestation of it. And I may say, it is a duty in their Subjects to believe that grace to be really in their persons, notwithstand­ing all their senses can judge by, of their visible state and glo­ry, seems to contradict this perswasion: and thus, (in report to our similitude) the effects may be found, whereof the sub­ject tempts no sensible expectation.

And surely this soveraign preservative of humilitie (which may well be call'd the salt of all moral vertues) is more requi­site for the soundness of the minds of Princes, then of others; because not only their vices are more contagious; but ev'n their vertues are more apt to be tainted and corrupted by the ill air of flattery, that flyes more about them then any other. Besides this seasoning of humilitie is only the preservative for all their natural good qualities. And as it is healthful for their own minds, so is it more operative and influent upon others, then any other vertue: for it not only moves the affections, but also enlightens the understandings of their followers, to discern [Page 175] the necessitie of this; when those in whom it seems not of so much dutie, shew them the requisiteness of it: insomuch that Princes, who but recommend other vertues to their depen­dants, seem to infuse this by their exercise of it; since all their inferiors must thence be convinc'd of the more absolute necessi­tie of this qualitie in their conditions. We remember how the Pharisees (in discredit of Christs doctrine) ask'd, If any of the Princes had believ'd in him: as if their example had been a better argument for the people then ev'n Christs miracles: and surely Subjects may have some excuse for not accompany­ing their Princes in other good qualities; where the advantage of their estates facilitates their practice, and exalts their estima­tion of such vertues: but in this to which their estate seems to indispose them, and contrarily, their degree of inferiors fairly ac­commodates them, herein an unconformitie can bear no ex­tenuation.

And as this vertue is of extraordinary merit in such persons as the world looks upon as patterns, so is it of most use to the Grandees of the earth, as to improving their temporal fortunes: for the more humble opinion they have of themselves, the more sense they have of the advantagious preference of their conditions; which cannot be so well relish'd without this sea­soning of humilitie. Pride always carries with it an underva­luation of all we possess in respect of what we claim by our de­sert; and by this self-deceit, entertains in us these two dissonant humors of vain-glory, and dis-satisfaction in our state; for as it swels, it fils us with wind, which fumes and offends all our present possessions with self elevation above all that is enjoy'd. How did these fumes of pride blind Haman, making him so diz­zie in that height from whence he fell? whereas this preserva-of humilitie kept Joseph clear-sighted in the same degree of elevation. Wherefore the great ones that have most to lose, are the most concern'd to preserve the taste, as well as the safe­tie of their fortunes, by this temper of their spirits; which sweetens to them all their cares, and sanctifies all their de­lights.

Let then the Princes and Grandees of the world look upon this, as the greatest advantage of their superioritie; namely, that their eminencie renders their humilitie so much the more meritorious towards God: for the promise of exaltation to those that humble themselves must needs be their due, in a com­mensurate degree. Mean persons often to the eye of the world, innocently discredit this excellent vertue, by being believ'd to make a vertue of necessitie: and Princes as much exalt it, by shewing it to be of so absolute necessitie, that ev'n their condi­tions cannot be improv'd to the best without it.

Thus have we humbly indeavoured to shew the Mightie of the earth, that not only pietie, but prudence counsels them to study this self-understanding; according to the Apostles or­der, measuring themselves by themselves, not by their local ele­vation above others: by which course they will find this truth, That the honour of a Christian is, as S. Paul sayes, to for­get those things which are behind, and reach forward to those that are before him; which is, the glory purchas'd by the humilitie of God, and promis'd only to the humbleness of man. I may then close this advice with the summons of the Psalmist: Be ye wise therefore now ye Kings, be instructed ye Judges of the earth; serve the Lord with fear, Psal. 2. and rejoice with trembling.

SECT. III.
A farther exhibition of the benefits of humi­litie, in order to the good of societie: And the explication of self-love; shewing how it undermines humilitie.

IT was not to enlighten the world with intellectual claritie, that the Sun of Righteousness display'd himself: for the earth seems to have enjoy'd a fuller bightness, as to all rational [Page 177] sciences, before then since; the wisdom of the Philhsophers having left us that light, by which we still see our way in our rational discoveries. The Gentiles may be said to have had better prospective, but not so good reflecting glasses as we, they saw farther forward into all external natures, but look'd not so clearly back into their own: so that all their knowledges and discoveries must needs raise their self-estimation, by the same degrees they found the capacitie of their souls extended to far­ther comprehensions: and consequently, could find no motive of humilitie in this self-dilating: whereas the light of the Go­spel is set for self-reflection, and looking back upon the origi­nal of our soul, where it finds the nullitie from whence it is de­riv'd, and consequently meets motives of humiliation. 'Tis no wonder that knowledge in a meer Rationalist, should produce the natural effect of swelling and elation: the grace of Christ being the only Antidote against this poison, wherewith our na­ture was first infected.

This is evidenc'd by observing that the proud spirit did so much prevail ev'n upon the vertues of humane nature, by this interfusion of pride, that he made no less use of them among the Heathens then of their vices; as S. Paul witnesses, they grew vain in their own cogitations, and accounting themselves wise, they became fools. And did not the Seducer serve himself of the most eminent natural advantages found amongst the Ancients, perverting them into snares and seducements to the people? for all the gods of the Gentiles were men, excelling in some qua­litie beneficial to mankind: and by the art of the Devil and ignorance of man, rais'd to the opinion of Deities; as Jupiter, Mars, Mercurie, Vulcan, Ceres, Bacchus, and the rest were all men; who in their times, had, by some special vertues and qualities, contributed eminently to the publick utilities of humane soci­etie: and the Promoter of pride and falshood, found means to render these persons more pernitious to mankind, then they had been profitable; by drawing out of their goods the greatest ill can befall us, which is, to worship the creature in stead of the Creator.

This has the Father of Lies labour'd from the beginning, and pursues still to delude us in point of self-knowing: for up­on all our goods he seeks to set an over valuation; to hollow and undermine the only solid foundation of durable vertue, which is, humilitie. In proof whereof we may observe, that during the reign of the Prince of this world, he not only ad­mitted, but seem'd to promote moral vertues in his Court; knowing they could not conspire against his prerogative, while they wanted humilitie to temper and conduct them to their end. Wherefore we find not this vertue (that should have manag'd all the other) at all extant in this Kingdom, (which is call'd that of darkness, notwithstanding the full brightness and splen­dor of both their intellectual lights and moral vertues:) so that although many of its Courtiers seem'd to speak with tongues of men and Angels, yet in effect they were but sounding brass, or tinckling Cymbals.

The Prince of Peace therefore, when he came to destr y the kingdom of this Usurper, brought no new moral vertue, but humilitie, to act against it: and by this he overthrew all the strong holds of nature, rais'd against the obedience of Christ; leaving it as the special distinctive mark between his children of light, and the others of darkness. So that we may truly say of this admirable qualitie, this spirit was not as yet given, because Jesus was not as yet humbled. And truly he who came to establish peace in his kingdom, knew there was no such power­ful means to confirm and entertain it in humane societie, as this band of humilitie: for peace being the tranquilitie of order, nothing preserves order so much as humbleness of mind; which keeps every one in their proper place and station, content with their rank and vocation. If we reflect upon it, we shall find that all troubles, wars, and dissentions arise from some appetite of transgressing and departing from the order of our state and condition: and humilitie, which measures our pretences by the square of our vocation, contains our desires within their due bounds; whereby the order and union of societies is preserv'd, and magistracie is alwayes respected and obeyed. For so in­capable [Page 179] is true humilitie of being provoked to publick sedition, that it resents no injuries, but those which extend to infractions of publick justice.

These proprieties of the Apostle, may be duly ascrib'd to a sincere humbleness of spirit, He suffers long and is kind, 1 Cor. 13. seeks not his own, is not easily provoked, rejoices in truth, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things: And surely a Societie of men, thus spirited, could admit of no discord or disorder. That which entertains peace and union in Religious Communi­ties, is not so much the spirit of austeritie, as this of humilitie: and it is the scarcitie of this spirit in the world, which raises so much dissention in all secular Societies. Wherefore humilitie is undoubtedly the most universal remedie can be ministred to rectifie all defects and indispositions, not only of the Spiritual, but ev'n of the Civil and Politick Body of mankind: so that if any Politician should discredit it in point of usefulness to the support and advancement of civil Societies and Common­wealths, arguing from the unactive apparencies of this vertue; he would in my mind mistake much: like the ancient fable, which suppos'd the stomach to have been idle, because it perform'd not the office of motion as the limbs, nor of sense as the head; where­as it digests and distributes nourishment to the whole body. For so humbleness of spirit, though it seems not exteriorly active, yet it concocts and converts into spiritual aliment the notions of all other vertues, and dispenses proportionate sustenance into the several faculties of the mind, whereby they are rendred order­ly active: and by this means provides, as the Apostle sayes, against the schism of the mind.

Pride and vain glory are forein declared enemies to humility; and consequently, we need not give intelligence of them: but there is a domestick and bosome-traitor in our nature, wherein we confide so much, that he most commonly discredits all his accusors, and this is self-love, which we so seldom suspect, that we most commonly commit all our designs to the conduct of this confident: Is it not therefore requisite to impeach and charge this Traitor as strongly as we can, by detecting his de­ceitful [Page 180] qualities? To discover then the guiltiness of self love, we must examine it by these two precepted duties, of loving God and our neighbour: for it becomes vitious proportionately to what it deducts from the payment of these two debts of our nature. And from the undue appropriation of our love, it is termed self-love in an ill sense, as affecting some unrightful pro­prietie. To which our nature stands bent ever since her fall; as if the tendring and cherishing her private appetites were the only solace of her present infirmitie. When indeed the contra­ry is the only course for her recovery: all indulgence then to the interests of the flesh against the Spirit is rightly call'd self-love in a criminal sense.

This corrupt inclination to undue proprietie covers it self so handsomly with the rights of nature, that it deceives in some degree, ev'n the most exact accountants with God and their neighbour: for when a strict examen keeps it from making any notorious stealth, it still finds means to wash and clip some grains off from these two other loves; and thus picks up a sub­sistence ev'n in the most disinterested self-deniers. But com­monly in the commercers of the world, self-love makes open prize of the others rights; leaving them none but what remains after their private affections are serv'd, and the refuse only of their love is allow'd to the most due assignment of God and our neighbour. The Apostle witnesses this consequence, ma­king this chain of vices link'd by self-love, Men shall be lovers of themselves, 2 Tim. 3. covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy: and certainly by the degrees of this peccant humor, all these vitious derivations will follow; for entire self-lovers have no regard to any duty, but as they con­ceive it in order to their private satisfactions. Which high de­gree of self-love, is properly that cupiditie the holy Spirit sayes is the root of all evil.

And we may truly say, all those deep vices that running long in our affections, have made so wide beds and channels in our [...]ature, do at first flow from this Spring head of self love; which when it rises first, seems but some small shallow appetite, but [Page 181] having enlarg'd it self as it runs on, changes the name; like Ri­vers which gather their name by their growth, not from their Spring. So pride, ambition, lust, and avarice, all of them issue out of this source of self-love; and change their names, as they come to be heightned and swollen by accidents, which raise these several self-seekings, up to the degree of full passions: and thus these three great streams come to their fulness and depth, (which the Apostle sayes, water all our accursed earth) the lust of the eyes, the lust of the flesh, and the pride of life.

And the same consequence may be truly inferr'd from the oppos'd extreme, which is, Abnegation and Self-denial. For from that source rise all the largest and fullest vertues of Chri­stianitie; as charitie, humilitie, temperance, and the rest: whose denominations are several, respectively to their objects; but in effect are all only greater or less self-denials The Spring of all Christian vertue rising thus out of our Saviors mouth, he that doth not renounce all that he possesses, cannot be my Disciple: and it may be confidently promis'd to all those who believe, and act according to this order, that out of their bowels shall flow rivers of living water, all spiritual and practical vertues shall from this source, find a consequent emanation.

SECT. IV.
Some means propos'd in order to the obtaining and preserving true Humilitie.

THere is no profession in Christianitie has more scholers, and yet fewer graduats; every one applauds the dictates, but few pass on to the due degrees of humility: the Disciples them­selves, while they were following Christ with their feet, were going backward from him with their heads: and whilst they [Page 182] were straining and pressing to precede one another. He who looked all wayes at once, saw how little their minds were fol­lowing his, and reproach'd them for that deviation. How many are there in the world, whose exterior motion seems tend­ing to humilitie, while their interior moves quite retrograde to that apparence? No vertue may justlier complain, this people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Nor is this to be wondred at, since a great part are mistaken in the notion of it, abusing themselves in the opinion of their owning it: and few there are but deceive themselves in the conceit of the facilitie to obtain it, concluding they can humble them­selves when they please. When indeed this presumption di­stances us from it, by the same degrees it rises in us: for the most essential qualification requir'd for the attaining this vertue, is the discernment of the unaptness of our nature to incline to sincere humilitie.

Wherefore the first tincture necessary to prepare our minds for the perfecter receiving the grain of this vertue, is a being im­bued with this perswasion, That our nature is highly proud and self-seeking in all her own inclinations. Which conclusion will consequently propose to us the mistrust of our natural propen­sions, and a strict examination, before we let them pass into purposes: whereupon in all serious disquisitions of our natural suggestions, we shall surely find self-love their first mover. We shall therefore do well to allay and temper them alwayes with some grains of self-denial; abating somwhat in our pursuit, from what nature proposes to attaining; and thus by easie de­grees begin to practice the masterie of our desires; gently intro­ducing self-denial under the notion of a self-conquest, not a constraint.

By this method we may come by little and little to stay the swing of the most violent impulses of self-love; as we do the violent motions of a material weight, that swings with too much force to be taken hold on at once; which we therefore first seek to break with some little stops, and so slacken the mo­tion by degrees, till it be come so gentle, that we lay hold and [Page 183] stay it at our pleasures. After this manner must we endeavour to stop the impetus of self-seeking nature: continuing to check it by degrees, and to slacken the pursuance of honor and esti­mation, till we come to acquiesce, ev'n to the worlds disvalue and depression. And towards the breaking the first impetuous­ness of any self-seeking, let me present you with this counterpoise of the Apostle, which I have often found the most powerful re­straint upon my vain nature: Christus sibi non placuit &c. Christ sought not to please himself, but the reproaches of the scorners fell upon him.

For surely one can hardly look this Image of Christ in the face, without blushing at our own affectation of glory, and ex­altation. I would therefore gladly present this Antidote to the Commercers in the world, who venture ev'n all the eases of their lives to trade for praise and vain-glory: Let them but sinke these few words into their minds, every morning; Christus sibi non placuit, &c. which may happily stop a little, if not divert their present prosecution.

And let me propose to such as are not so apt to be mov'd by Crucifixes, as by Cabinet Images. Let me mind them how little they themselves believe true of all the praises and estimati­ons they give those with whom they exchange these commo­dities: why should they then esteem those honours more real they expect from others, and seek as the treasure of their life? Methinks this reflection should much work upon the self-lovers of the world: since they cannot value that glory they passio­nate so much; unless they believe it unfainedly conferr'd by their applauders. And surely, if Worldlings did but seriously consider, how much they themselves undervalue most persons; and those most of all whom they are most oblig'd to flatter: they must needs enter into an inconsideration and disvalue of all those hollow affectations; which cannot endure the least touch of consideration, without confessing their emptiness and nullitie. And this may be to very many, a more proportionate motive towards their undeceiving then a more spiritual animadver­sion.

But to such as are disposed for more spiritual applications, I shall offer this object; which is not only rememorative, but ev'n operative upon well temper'd subjects, viz. Looking often upon the author and finisher of our faith Christ Jesus: in whom it was no robbery to equal himself with God; yet he made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant. Here now, how can one (who must commit a robberie in seeking to exalt himself) while he looks upon this original which he is to copie, find any colour of self-esteem to work with? And cer­tain it is, that heaven shall have no other furniture in it, but portraicts of Christ Jesus; nor can we take his resemblance so like in any feature, as in his humilitie: since his other graces fall not so near our imitation. The manner then of forming this figure may be borrow'd from that of material images; which are either made as pictures, by apposition; or as statues, by substraction. So the mind must be wrought, after the man­ner of the first, by priming it at the beginning, with the notions of Christian vertues; then by degrees laying upon it the colour and manifestation of them in their practises; and at length fi­nishing the picture there, by successive applications and impres­sions: but our bodies must be handled in the other manner of statue-work, which is all by substraction and retrenchment, that is, by continued self-denials and abatements of the appe­tites of our sensitive nature. And this is a certain method to form in us that resemblance, whereby only we shall be known at the great appearance; where none but the similitude of Christs humilitie, shall become like him in glory, when they look upon him: which happy point, whoever intends really to perfect in himself, must frequently meditate on his original; and in all occasions of self-seeking, reflect upon this so different air in Christ, Christus sibi non placuit, &c.

And that while we are working this figure by substraction and retrenchment, we may not be tempted, to kiss our own hands, (which Job forewarns of) that is, to arrogate any thing to our own vertue and sufficiencie; whereby, as I may say, we paint the old man, while we seem to be cutting out the new (for [Page 185] this self-complacencie may form interior pride by the same acts we figure our exterior humiliation,) in precaution to this temptation, let me advise all such as take in hand this work of solid humilitie by the way of self-denial, to look alwayes up­ward when they measure their graces and fidelitie; and downward, when they weigh their pains and difficulties; that is, when they are mov'd by nature to value their me­rits, let them contemplate the transcendence of some Saint in that particular; and when they are solicited to lament their la­bours and sufferances, let them look downward upon such pressures and distresses in others as much exceed their own. This is a very powerful means to preserve us either from pre­sumption in our acquiries of graces, or dejection in the repug­nancies of our nature; and by this so important equilibration of our spirit, humilitie may be setled in all our exercises. For whoever proposes a spiritual progression, must know, that with­out this constant equal light of humilitie, he can never be assured of his advance: Since, ev'n the most shining fervors of the Spirit may prove but such a kind of light, as great flashes of Lightnings give in a dark night, affording for some short time much bright­ness; which serves not to direct a traveller safely forward in his way; for he may be very near a precipice, and yet not perceive it by that cursory splendor: So may the brightest intermitting illuminations of the spirit, without this continu'd daylight of humilitie, avail us little towards our end; since we may be near the Angels precipitation, without discovering it by this flash.

Certain it is therefore, that no elevation of our spirits is so safe a promotion, as a sober meditation on our own indignitie and despicableness; evinc'd to us by this our proneness to vitiate and pervert ev'n our best qualities. Whence, me­thinks nothing should serve us for a stronger motive to con­temn our selves, then this reflection upon the difficultie we find to become humble: when as upon a right measure of our selves, we must needs wonder how it is possible we should be proud: and yet, how justly may we reproach this age (with S. Ambrose,) Vidi multos humiliatos, sed paucos humiles, I [Page 186] have seen many humbled, but few made humble. Too oft neither exterior depression, nor interior conviction work this impressi­on of humilitie, which God loves so much, that he often (as S. Augustin sayes) permits sin which he abominates in well dis­pos'd souls, of purpose to augment this in them. For as there is no vertue of long perseverance, which is not rooted in humi­litie; so there is no vice pertinacious, in an humble disposition.

Thus have I, I hope, sufficiently evidenc'd the requisitions of humilitie, for our perseverance in pietie, and finishing our course between this world and the next. For in this Sea we are passing, humilitie may be fitly said to perform the office of the Mariners needle; which is no less requisite then the sails to make the Port: since as Faith, Hope, and Charitie, acting the part of sails give motions to the spirit; so humilitie steers and directs them towards their final termination.

Nor yet is this frequent meditation on our unworthiness, or the purpose of labouring in self-denial, singly sufficient to assure the acquisition of this vertue; there must be added a supernatu­ral supplement towards this subduing of our nature in this her strongest part of proprietie and self-love. And this succour must be sought by constant and frequent prayer: begging hu­militie as earnestly, as we use to do those advantages which are no wayes conducing to it; calling upon the true opener of our eye [...], with the blind man in the Gospel; Domine fac ut videam, Lord grant me the sight of my self; that the Serpent, who at first shew'd me my nakedness, may not now blind me in another man­ner, by covering and concealing it from me with those false co­lours he seeks to set upon it, to hinder me from raising humilitie out of that corruption and deformitie which he has betraid us to. This self-discernment, is a grace to be assiduously implor'd, lest we be circumvented by Satan, as the Apostle sayes, for we know his purposes.

The sum therefore of my proposals in order to the obtaining and maintaining this so excellent combiner of all other Christi­an vertues, is first frequent recollection, to possess our minds with the reasonables of humilitie, inferr'd from our own real un­worthiness: [Page 187] next, frequent and assiduous prayer, to obtain the succour of Grace against our connatural appetite of self-love: and thirdly, a continual application to the practice of self deni­als. Wherein though we begin with taking off but grains, by de­grees we shall find our force grow with our fidelitie; and by easie assents, we may rise towards this station (all Christians should aspire to) of jam non ego, sed vivit in me Christus: not living by our own natural life, so much as by that spiritual animation of our head Christ Jesus, in whose conjunction we hope for a life wherein we cannot over-love our selves; which is to be obtain'd only by a self-despising in this life; For he that loves his life, shall lose it; and he that hates it, shall turn it into life everlast­ing. I may therefore fitly close up this Remonstrance, with this promise of the Apostle; If these things advised you, be in you, and abound, they shall make you not barren or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ; but he that lacks these things, is blind and sees not afar off; he sees not through the shining de­lusions of this world into the true glories of the next, to which we must arrive by this councel of the holy Spirit, Humble your selves that God may exalt you in the day of his visitation.

SECT. I.
Of the Origine, together with the offensive­ness of sickness.

IS it not a very cross unhappiness in our na­ture, that when it imports us most to be confident of our souls immortalitie, ev'n then we are most mov'd to distrust it? For does not this befal us in our corpo­real indispositions? wherein our soul (as if it were fastned to the body) not only seems to decline by the same degrees that sinks; but very frequently (like the more terrestrial portion) appears to fall the fastest, and to draw the other down the fooner: These two mental infirmities are verifi'd in our corpo­real one. For in all great sicknesses, the soul seems to have no other function then such as discredit to her her own immortali­tie; while she feels her self only by suffering and wrestling for life, finding all marks of her concatenation with the bodie, and [Page 189] none of her independencie; and in light indispositions does not the mind very familiarly bend and sinke the first; and by her faintness deject and depress the bodie faster then the diseases by their natural oppressions?

These experimental truths may justly extort from our suffer­ing souls S. Pauls condol [...]nce, O wretched man! R m 7.24. who shall deli­ver mee from the body of this death? To which indeed our Sa­viour affords us a consolatorie answer, upon another occasion, This infirmitie is not unto death, but to the glory of God: however in regard of this perplexitie so usually incident to our spirits, it is one of the best offices can be done them to consult the remedies of these their exigencies. In order whereunto, we must surely observe the same method in the consult, about this root of all humane infirmities, which we do in the cure of all the branches: viz. we must search the spring of sickness it self, and to that di­rect our medicinal applications. And in this question, what is commonly the most difficult in other such like consults, is here the most obvious; namely, to resolve the first and certain cause of the disease: for every patient can tell whence he derives this obnoxiousness to sickness; all know how we were poison'd in our root, which communicates this infirm condition to all the succeeding productions. But what is not commonly known, and yet very pertinent to our redress, is, that our original infir­mitie began to disclose it self first by such marks as are now re­ceiv'd for signs of health; which are, hunger and lust: for our nature was at first stated in so happy an integritie, that our first father should have acted (in order to the preserving his indivi­dual and propagating his species) by the direction of reason, not the provocation of sense; he should have fed and fructifi'd, exempt from the preceding distress of hunger, or the pressure of carnal stimulation.

And surely Adam (considering his sentence, as soon as he found the wants of his nature importune him) presently con­cluded that his body was condemn'd to suffer by his own senses becoming his Executioners; and that their disorderly necessi­ties should by degrees unciment, and at last dissolve this union of [Page 190] soul and bodie: so that his clear understanding could not fail to discern the consequences of those two in [...]ulting appetites of hunger and lust; and to judge them the seeds of unsoundness and defection: but by a strange providence, he saw death actually possess'd of mans body (very probably) before he had ever felt any dangerous distemper in it, and the son was dead before the first father was sick; God being pleas'd that death should take possession by the same means it had a title to humanitie, which was by sin, not by nature; and as the corruption of the soul, entituled death; so the vitiousness of mans mind, not the defi­ciencie of his bodie, first executed the sentence. Certainly therefore, when Adam saw Abel dead, by so sudden and surpri­zing a means; we may well suppose, he would have accounted it a singular grace if God would have granted to the rest of his children, the assurance of being advertis'd of their end, by the summons of some disease.

And methinks it is no improper speculation to conceive A­dams penance and purgation to have consisted much in corporal infirmities join'd to his labours; his condition being subject to few other sufferings, by reason of that great reverence and sub­jection all his issue were like to render him: for he was surely honour'd as King of the earth, during his life, by all his proge­nie; and consequently may be suppos'd to have receiv'd his greatest mortifications from the thorns which grew up in his own body; so that sickness may be accounted the original counter-poison to sin. Wherefore, as a holy person thought very well, in my conceit, that considering the unavoidable miseries sin had introduc'd into life, the decree of death was a mercie, rather then a rigour: so may I say, that supposing the sentence of death, the annexure of sickness to life, was a miti­gation of the judgment: for considering the far exceeding mi­series consequent to an ill death; that which commonly con­duces to the amendment of life, and disposure to a happy disso­lution, (with the cost of transitorie, at the worst, and usually, but intermitting pains) ought to be esteem'd a helpful associati­on to life. We propose not therefore to paint or disguise sick­ness, [Page 191] so that it may look handsomely; but to set it out with such acceptable commodities, as may take off our eyes from the ill aspect of the bearer, and fix them upon the benefit and va­lue of the presents: as it is no hard matter to divert ev'n the in­cest eyes from the face of a Moore, and to place them up­on his hands cover'd with treasures and pretious offer­ings.

My endeavour then must tend to evidence to the soul in this state of oppression, that this her infirmitie is not to death, but to the glory of God. And to this end I must advertise her, that as the impediments of the body abate the exercise of her natural powers; so by the same degrees she may make them deduct from her moral infirmities; and by that means render this sensible substraction of those natural faculties, a spiritual purgation, taking so from sickness, physick for the infirmities of health; which we know so commonly breeds dangerous moral obstructions, that it occasion'd this remark of a holy per­son, An unsound mind is the most dangerous in a healthful and sound body.

Our souls indeed, in a strong and vigorous state of body, are ordinarily turn'd the wrong side outward: that is to say, All their powers, as to their external operations, are then the most lively and forceable (for our minds are setting themselves out to the best, in all visible exercises;) but contrariwise, in their internal actings, (as to self-reflections and spiritual attentions) their faculties are the more slack and un [...]ttentive, this will be granted by familiar experience: which shews us how much more earnestly we applie our minds to set off, ev'n their intelle­ctual commodities for sale to the eyes of the world, then we do to wear them inward (as I may say) in mental exercises, whereby to make secret or private acquisitions. How apt are we to study the exporting of our best thoughts (ev'n as soon as we can vent them) for the exchange of praise: rather then to work upon them by single internal contemplation; so to im­prove the intrinsick value, rather then the forein opinion of our minds? and yet this alas, is the least reprehensible practise of [Page 192] our souls in this their wrong position: for the eager applicatio [...] of their faculties to the pursuit of the bodies appetencies, and the drowsie attention to intellectual occupations, is far more re­proachable; in both which self-conversions, may not the soul be accounted turn'd the wrong side outward, since its best parts are set from the sight of God, towards the eye of the world; in that posture which Ezekiel so much reproaches,Ezech. 8.16. having the backside of our minds turn'd towards the Temple, and their faces towards the Sun rising; preferring sensible light and warmth, (that is, praises and pleasures) before spiritual promotion. Now how much the strength of health serves to overbear the soul to­wards these two undue preferences, I need not fear any conte­station.

And does not sickness very frequently conduce much to rectifie this inverted posture of our minds, turning their best side up­ward towards heaven? For surely it may be said to be to death, what clouds are to rain; which alwayes put travellers in mind of wet, though they do not alwayes suddenly produce it: so that we prepare for ill weather upon this warning, either by hastning our pace, or by covering or sheltering our selves against the incommodities of it. In like manner, sickness al­wayes brings death into our minds, though not presently to our bodies:Infirmati sunt, & post [...]a accelera v [...]runt. and upon this notice, we commonly prepare against it, either by quickning the motions of our love to God, or by cloathing our selves with good works, or at least, by taking shelter under the cover of repentance.

When the travelling Israelites were weakned, they made the more haste: And how often do we see bed-rid minds (as I may well term such as have been many years unable to stir, but as they were mov'd and turn'd by their senses,) rise from this im­potent state, when their body is cast into the bed; and seem to have some of their powers bent and redress'd, by those degrees the sinews and ligaments of the body are slackned and remit­ed? which I understand, as to the elevation of the will; not to the raising or intention of the intellectual portion in any dis­coursing exercise: for in this part of her substance, the mind [Page 193] runs alwayes the bodies adventure, and loseth proportionably with the sufferings and decayes of this partner. Whence it is that the soul becomes infeebled towards any rational enquirie into her own nature; and consequently remains the less able to sever her self by discourse, from the infolding and complication wherein she seems ingag'd in the bodies materialitie: and at the time when she has most need of the discernment of her indepen­dance, is the least dispos'd for this perception.

But how shall the mind of man (will many say) extricate it self, out of this comprisure and involvedness in the bodies passions and infirmities? This may be obtain'd in some useful measure, and that by this means; namely, by the souls labour­ing to preserve much indifference and unconcernment in all the bodies appetites and delectations in the best conditions of health; for as much as th [...] sp [...]it can sever it self from the inte­rests of the fl [...]sh, in point of solaces, so much may it be seque­stred from the others s [...]fferings. It were unjust to pretend ex­emption from the sense of condolance, yet to claim the best share in consolations: to adhere to things in motion, and t ex­pect stabilitie, is a vain proposal; since ev'n the greatest weights be [...]ng imbarqu'd for ballast, are carry'd o [...] as fast [...]s the lightest sails. Wherefore, this dis-engagement of the spirit from the voluptuous appetites of the flesh, is to be studied and intended, when the health and vigour of the body solicites most the minds combination towards the senses satisfaction: for to what proportion the spiritual part is immers'd in these material gusts and relishes, so much of it, as it were, is sunk and plung'd in our own blood; and consequently, is carry'd along with the seve­ral tides of our bodily constitution. Insomuch that there are many voluptuous minds, by whose bodi [...]s, as in a kind of wea­ther glass, one may discern their condition; and as their blood rises or falls in soundness and vigor, their souls seem to be rais'd or dejected by the same gradations. Since it is then so notori­ous, that our minds must suffer with the state of the body, pro­portionably to that fastning and adherence to their senses, which they are voluntarily ingag'd in: the exemption from this suf­fering [Page 194] must be obtain'd, by a restraint of our wills from this in­timate union with the bodies sensual interests in the state of a healthy constitution.

This is not, I confess, an easie work, by reason there are, as it were, two other souls in our bodies, which in order of time precede much the rational in their exercises: for the vegitative and sensitive are in possession of flesh and blood, so long before the other appears, that this last seems but a production upon their roots; since we find it come up into action, but as the other two send it forth by their growths. And yet we may proper­ly in this case say,Rom. 11. It is not you that carry this root, but this root you. For methinks, these two properties of vegitation and sense, which appear before the other, are to the rational, what the stalk and leaves are to a rose or any other sweet flower; both of which come forth in their perfect state, before the odour exposeth it self: and yet the odour is the most worthy part of the whole nature, making the specifical difference of the plant; though the sensible communication of this best qualitie attends the dis­posure of the meaner parts, which are to serve as pipes and con­duits to give it passage. Much after which sort, the rational por­tion of humane nature (though the noblest, and constituting the essential difference and prerogative above all the powers of other creatures) expects the sitting and adaptation of organs, wrought by the actings of these two lower powers, before it issue and ma­nifest its own worthier operations. But true it is, that by the advantage of so long a prepossession of their powers, (though but in ministerial preparation for the dominion of reason) they very commonly (like Ministers governing in the Princes non-age) indear themselves so much to it in this weaker state, that the rational part (when it comes to age, as I may say) is go­vern'd and led away by their appetites; the greatest disorders whereof begin at the same time that reason should enter into the full manage of the whole nature: but then these two powers, under the notion of favorites, very familiarly govern and dis­pose of the whole rights of their master; and from their unruly cupidities is deriv'd the discomposure and infirmitie of the bo­dy, [Page 195] whereof the intellectual faculties must needs partake the in­dispositions.

Since then the rational part cannot preserve the dominion (nay, nor long, its delight) by yeilding to the alluring interests of these two irrational powers: we must offer some motive to a­vert it from this adherencie in the most perswasive state of the senses; that is, in the fulness of health. And surely, this diversi­on may be fitly propos'd to reason. Consider that those marks, whereby our first father discern'd the entrie of his infirmities; namely; (Hunger and Lust) are not only seeds of all our future diseases, but indeed present indispositions of our corrupted na­ture: so that when these two favorite senses, Tasting, and Touching, fl [...]tter our minds the most, towards the rendring themselves up to their delights, we must study to remember that this state of vigour in the body, is originally, an act of rebellion against reason; and for the present, is an admitting as many enemies, (ev'n into the bodie) as we let in excesses by those ports; for diseases enter most freely and most dangerously un­der the colour of friends, and complacent ministers of the bo­dies inclinations; continuing their accesses in the same manner they made their first entrie by the way of flattery and insinua­tion.

And by this kind of introduction, we receive most of our diseases, viz. the pleasing excesses recommended by our senses: in which complacencie of the soul, she is alwayes sick, though imperceptible, in the very acts of the bodies health and vigour: Wherefore it is no wonder that in the fall and dejection of it, she should share in the oppression. Is it not then clear, that to deliver our rational soul from a communion in suffering with our irrational, we must labour to sever the conjunction of the first in the inordinate interests of the other? and by the same measure we practise this, the spirit in all the ruines and dissoluti­ons of the flesh may remain sound, and assured of a state of per­manencie and immortalitie. For though the outward lights of the soul may be clos'd up, by the interposure of the bodies ruines; that is, the capacitie of discourse and expressions much [Page 196] darkned; yet those very demolishments may (as I may say) break out new lights upward, whereby the sight may ascend clearer up to heaven, by an elevation and transmission of the will to God: and the spirit exerci [...]ng freely acts of faith, may rest confident of being an incorruptible treasure, though in a vessel of clay, while it finds that crack and crumble away; and in the tot­terings and declinations of the body, may make this interior rest for it self,2 Cor. 4.16. For this reason we do not faint; though the man which is without be corrupted, yet he that is within is renewed.

SECT. II.
Of a spiritual regiment, in the first access of any indisposition.

VVHen upon any light displeasure of our Prince, we are committed to our chambers or houses, our first thoughts are not how to recreate our selves there, but how to re­concile our selves to the offended power. This may well be admitted as our case in our easiest distempers, to wit, the being sent by our master home to our own bodies, as a mark of some displeasure: and therefore, conformable to that method, our first application ought to be in order to his satisfaction, not to the solaces of our present condition. For there is no crasinesse we feel, that is not a record of Gods having been offended by our nature; and every little ach about us is a thorn or briar springing out of that offensive earth, whereof we are compos'd. Wherefore ev'n the softest pain is in Gods still voice, an Adam, where art thou? viz. a memorial of the faultinesse and frailtie of our bodies, which we invest as the sons of Adam; to which, those who at the first call, answer not (by an [Page 197] humble reflection upon their debt to God, and upon their own infirm nature; but immediately have recourse to the succors of external remedies) may be said to run under the leaves for shelter and succour, as soon as they hear God stirring. For the resorting first to the vertue of Plants and products of the earth, Is it not just such a preposterous impertinence as Adams, so soon as he perceiv'd his nakedness? This is therefore the safest prescript; to repair in the first place to that Tree of life, Rev. 22 the leaves whereof are ordain'd to heal the Na­tions.

And let no body protract this address upon the slightness of the summons for there is no so little disorder'd emotion of the pulse, that beats not an alarm ev'n of death: and since ou [...] worldly amusements and diversions admit not a continual keeping our minds in duty upon the approaches of that enemie; to continue that inconsideration upon the actual assaulting of a quarter, were a shameful self betraying. I allow not herein the deferring preparation for death, till this warning of sickness: for well advis'd persons should prepare in their best health, against the known impediments of sickness towards that preparation; since commonly, when we are the nearest death, by this way, we are the most distant from the means of securing our passage. For all those rational powers that dispose us the best, by contend­ing against the interests of the sensitive ones, are then all engag'd to succour and defend them; by reason their oppression com­prises, then, the rational parts deficiencie: wherefore this can­not be the most proper, ev'n because it is the most pressing state towards this intendment. I do therefore earnestly disswade this dilatorie assignment.

But surely they, who, upon the first step of sickness, doe not immediately part towards God; but flye first to material remedies, and stay, as commonly most do, to be carryed to God by our diseases pace: such may be said truly to apprehend the ill of sickness, more then the ill of death; which is such an unreasonableness, as ev'n those, [Page 198] who incur it by this course, will blush to avow; for this appre­hension of suffering doth certainly sharpen deaths sting, and commonly not abates the edge of sickness.

Having begun by this due preposure of our chief obligation; the application to the remedies of art challenges the next place: in design of which succour, God has implanted medicinal ver­tues ev'n in the briars and thistles of the field; and ordain'd that by the labour and culture of man, one part of the earth should afford both antidotes and remedies against the corrup­tions of the other. And for extracting these benefits, God has assign'd intellectual labourers for this culture: who not only study the surface, but dig into the bowels of the earth, draw medicinal light out of its darkest recesses, and render the same materials which are the sharpest instruments of death, the quick­est Administrers of life.Eccles. 38.1. No wonder then, if he enjoin us to honor the Ph [...]sitian, for the need we have of him; for the most High hath created him: and truly considering our condition, there is no secu­lar vocation, whereof we have so precise a necessitie. For we may suppose it feasable for a man to serve himself in all other offices absolutely requisite to his subsistance; but it is not possible for him (in violent diseases, whereto we are all liable) to be his own Physitian. So that admitting this our inevitable need, and Gods gracious provision, I may apply what S. Paul directs for the Ministers of Gods Justice, to these of his Compassion; and ad­vise you to be subject unto the Physitian,Rom. 13 not only for fear, but likewise for conscience sake. For what is ascrib d to spiritual Physick which is Penance) suits well to corporal, viz. to be tabula post naufragium, a Planke after Shipwrack; since both suppose the integritie of our nature cast away, and minister thereupon their respective succours to soul and body: besides, as they rapport to one another in their bitterness and unpleasant­ness to our sensitive portion, so do they in their rectifying and sanative properties.

And our receiving the Physitian under this notion of a Mini­ster and Commissioner of [...]od, besides the mediation of a blessing to the remedies) affords this special sensible ease viz. [Page 199] the allaying and qualifying much of the bitter and distastfulness of our Physick. for as we use to gain upon the aversions of our stomachs by the mediation of our affections, (as when we choose persons very agreeable and belov'd to minister to us ve­ry nauseous medicines; and by this interest of our fancie, find a facilitation toward the taking off those disgustful recipes:) So when we have possess'd our minds with this character of our Physitian as Gods Minister, and apprehend all our prescripts as dictated and deliver'd to us (as it were) by his hand; this conception may much sweeten to us all the sensible dissavours of our remedies. And by this order we shall not incur King Asa's irregularitie; while we find God in the Physitian,Chron. 16. not seek and confide in him as our God: for by that method, we may not only allay the dissavours of the matter, but reconcile us to all the effects of our medicaments: whilst we take life or death as from that hand of the Lord whence they both are issued. By which means Saint Pauls cordial is ministred to us, Gods being glorified, whether by our life, or our death.

After this order taken in our spiritual and natural houses; the next care ought to be the setting our civil house in order: which is to be done by a method quite different from that we proceed by in our natural Economie. For that house is to be rectifi'd by repairing and piecing up; but this, by parting and taking in pieces: our bodies being well stated by composing the difference of the parts with the whole; and our estates, in this case, best dispos'd, by dividing the whole into parts. And most commonly, the great solicitude we have in setting this civil house in order for our life, brings it into disorder, as to the disposing of it in this occasion: for the stronger we have built it, the more pain we find to take it asunder; and there are few that in this architecture, do not follow as near as they can, the rule of seating their house upon a rock, to make it of proof against the rain and winds of the world. But how many have its foundation and materials sunk so deep into their affections, that they seem to become parts ev'n of their natural house: inso­much [Page 200] that the working upon the civil one, when it is to be chang'd or remov'd, seems to shake and weaken the natural? How common is it to apprehend the advice of making a Te­stament, as a sentence given against our recovery: and how often does the terror of parting with our goods hasten the part­ing with our bodies; the good or ill state whereof follow much the quiet and composure of our affections? And to this mental infirmitie we may impute many of those intestate ends: though in some there is likely a mixture of a judgment; to minds, namely, that apprehend giving, and death alike; and having liv'd in this wretched state, are not allow'd the blessing of giving, when happily they would do it freely and with comfort. Such mean [...]ouls may be said to have for­feited their goods by the law of Christianity, and death makes the seizure, without allowing them any disposure.

But my subject leads me not towards the rectifying this enor­mitie of health; but only to propose the regulating and rank­ing in a due place, this care in sickness: in reference whereto, I have seated this intendment of setting our house in order, in that due place which may be challeng'd by our secular tyes and obligations. And surely this discharge and expoliation, in the first assaults of sickness, is no less proper then a sick mans un­dressing himself, when he is advis'd to take his bed: for without doubt, there is as much difference in the spiritual ease of one devested of these obligatory solicitudes, and anothar cloath'd and begirt with them; as between a sick mans lying in his wearing clothes, or in his naked bed. Wherefore let every one in this case with their first conveniencie, exempt themselves from this reprehensive note of S. Paul. 2 Cor 5 We who are in this taber­nacle, sigh and are burdened, because we would n [...]t be uncloath'd: But let them begin cheerfully to set their house in order, by their taking it asunder like a tent, without much labour; and strengthen their spirits with this consolation of the holy Ghost, We know that [...]f this earthly house of this tabernacle be destro [...]ed, [...]. 5 [...]▪ we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, but eter­nal in the heavens.

SECT. III.
Of some consolatorie receipts for sickness.

I Must confess that sickness needs all the good offices can be devis'd, to reconcile us to the injuries and offences of it; especially since this exercise of patience affords not the exam­ple and societie of our suffering King and Head, Christ Jesus; whereby we might be directed in our behaviour. In all our other trials we have him in our eye, with this memorial of the holy Spirit; In that he suffered and was tempted, Heb. [...].18. he is able to succour those that are tempted: but in this thornie path we find no prints of his footing. The reason given is, that he, no wayes par­taking of original sin, (whereof our bodily infirmitie is a pro­duct) was to have his body only liable to external injuries, whereof our bodies should have been susceptible in the state of integritie; and being design'd to die for others, not himself, (all his suffering being addrest for satisfactions of our offences) this particular one might have seem'd more natural and involuntary then his other to which he so manifestly contributed a willing subjection: and moreover, his bodily indisposition might have been an impediment to the exercise of his mission. But waving the reason as a misterie, we find not any mention of our Saviors induring any interior corporal infirmitie; but so much the con­trary, that his flesh cured all diseases that touch'd it: so that in this point, we want S. Peters administration of succour, by see­ing Christs steps and his example left, that we may follow them. 1 Pet. 2 22.

Yet notwithstanding the want of Christs company in this suf­fering state, we have his compassion of it abundantly extant in his life: for we find him so tenderly affected to all sick persons, that he never omitted the cure of any that was offer'd him,Mat. 4.23. he went a­bout healing every sickness, and every disease among the people: and we have this testimony of the good effects of sickness, that it [Page 202] drew all those it possest, unto Christ; it brought ev'n from the farthest parts of Syria, and wherever his fame reach'd, patients and suppliants to him: insomuch that we may say, the voice crying in the Desart did not bring so many, as that crying within our own dores: for we may very probably believe there was no sick body, ev'n amongst the most obstinate Jews, that resorted not to Christ. And admiting his spiritual cure to have been alwayes annex'd to his corporal (which is constant­ly believ'd, and that justly; because it was a double defeat at one blow to the Devil, whose works Christ came to destroy;) we may conclude that this suffering state did partake more of the benefit of his sufferings, then any other. How much more happy then, were their diseases then their dignities to the peo­ple Christ came chiefly to visit? for was it not ask'd, as a thing incredible, Whether any of the Princes had believ'd in him? Whereas, surely it might have been ask'd, as a much stranger thing, Was there any diseas'd body that did not seek him? So much more blessed among the chosen people of God, was this state of infirmitie, then that of felicitie. Had the womans issue of bloud been stopt by the Physitians, upon whom she had spent all her substance, it is a great question, whe­ther, having her health, she would have crouded so confidently to have touch'd Christ Jesus, (here, vertue was truly perfected in infirmitie:) And had the rich young man come to our Sa­viour, for the cure of some grievous disease; it is not likely he had gone away from him worse then he came; but the wants of his body would surely have counterpois'd the weight of his fortune, which overturn'd him: for we know how much less force our worldly possessions have to draw our minds, when they have no hold upon our bodily fruitions, then when they are fast­ned to them by those chains of sensual enjoyments; which sick­ness doth most commonly dissolve. The bed-rid Paralitick broke through houses to get to Christ; and went richer away with his bed upon his back, then the unhappy young man, who could not get through his own houses and possessions; which drew him back, and carried him away from Christ, in a more-to-be-pittied [Page 203] impotencie, then that wherein the other sought him. May not then these testimonies of the serviceableness of sickness to our best part, deduct much from our worser parts aversions?

It will admit a hard question, Whether the state of indi­gencie or of infirmitie, be the most tolerable? they are both so grievous, that I believe the present sufferers, in each kind, often wish an exchange with one another: for ev'n the beggars health is some times a pain to him; when his hunger exceeds his alms: and the bed-rid mans riches prove often a vexation, when he finds himself restrain'd from those liberties and plea­sures, which his fortune offers him. How often doth the men­dicant wish himself enclos'd in the rich mans bed with his dis­ease, and serv'd with his accommodations. And how com­monly would the sick master of the house have chang'd places with the suppliants at his dore? But Gods method in the di­stribution of crosses, is not unlike that of his graces; whereof every one hath his proper gift: and I may say,1 Cor. 12. the manifestation of his cross is given to every one, to profit withal, in their several exercises. Wherefore I am enclin'd to think, that if this ex­change were practicable, (with this condition, that each one should be afterward confin'd to his choice) both parties would sometimes repent them of their bargain. For in this case, our cross would be all of our own making, and nothing of the hand of God in it; which lightens all the burthens it layes on, by remaining a rest and support to the bearer. Manus domini teti­git me, the hand of the Lord hath stricken me, was Jobs straw that lay under him in his dunghil; he found one hand under him, while the other was upon him; and in this manner the weights are counterpois'd, which God imposes: whereas con­trariwise, when we feel our own hands singly in our burthens, they are not only impotent as to our ease, but so much dead weight for aggravation. Wherefore I presume this simple self-presence, in our chosen crosses, would sharpen all their cor­ners. Whence the best sweetning we can take with this bitter potion of sickness, is to infuse into it this consideration,Ps. 75.8. In the [Page 204] hand of the Lord is the cup, it is full mix'd, and he pours out the same: for commonly when we strive to mix it our selves, we but put in the dregs; the portion of sinners, added to that of sufferers. This error is one of the greatest vexations of our life, a seeking to alter the things themselves, and not our own opini­ons of them; when this is in our power, and the other out of it: we may change our apprehensions of sufferings, not our obnoxi­ousness to them. And yet alas, how studiously do we intend the unattainable part, and how coldly endeavour the feaseable? Whoever then seeks an antido [...]e against this infirmitie of our nature, must procure to fortifie his mind against the pressures of his body; which is a practicable work: and not hope to change the course of nature, by any art or caution, so far as to an exemption from sickness; which priviledge transcends our constitutions.

In order then, to the moderating our apprehensions of the evils in this sort of sufferance, I will present you a meditation, borrow'd from a very holy person, and one much exercis'd in this tribulation: He said, that Christ Jesus▪ our head, having offer'd nothing in this kind to the justice of God, in his own person, makes now continually this offering, in his suffering members; and to expiate the offensive pleasure of Adams taste, by this means presents the bitterness and disrelish of all things exercising that sense. Wherefore, every diseas'd member of Christ should account himself under the notion of a sacrifice, de­sign'd by his head, towards the continuance of his suffering ob­lations; whereby he propitiates God for the remission of their corporal offences: in which regard every pious patient may be allow'd to say, I fulfil the rest of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh. 1. Col. 24. Now admitting this conception (which is very excellent in my sense) what a solace must this be to have all the infirmi­ties of our flesh, and often the very consequences of our sins, taken into Christs hands; and valued to us as ministries in his service, while they stand for offerings upon his accompts? in­somuch that in this relation every feaver may be said to fire in­cense, as it passes through Christs hands; and every opening [Page 205] of a vein, is so much blood pour'd out upon the Altar, by way of an acceptable sacrifice; taking Christ for the Priest that offers it. Surely this state thus considered, must every parcel of it, every sigh or groan, afford some refreshment, by this holy reference: The consumption of our bodies may upon this score, like the ancient Hosts of the Temple, derive an acceptableness from their signification, which they had not in their substances: and by this appliance, the corruption of our nature may prove the seed, ev'n of our regeneration.

We may well conceive, that our head and High-priest en­dears this sacrifice to God, above any of our other crosses: not only because it costs man the most of any; but likewise for this special propertie, of being mix'd with less impuritie then our other sufferances. For most of our other afflictions involve, either an actual offence against God, or strong temptations to­wards it, as in all personal injuries and affronts we receive from our neighbour, there is not only a present guilt in the actor, but the patient is also sharply tempted to undue resentments. And likewise in external persecutions (as in violent deprivements of libertie and goods) there is, both, sin on the oppressors part; and not only much provocation to the sufferer towards mur­mur and repugnancie; but also a pressing solicitation of our minds towards worldly cares and solicitudes, to recover such accommodations: insomuch that in these exercises of our spi­rits, God is certainly offended in the one half, by the actors ini­quitie; and very likely, to be displeas'd in the other by the sufferers irresignation.

These spiritual prejudices are incident to our other crosses, from which sickness seems priviledg'd; to deduct much from its corporeal painfulness; for it is not inflicted by external violence: whence all the resentment we are mov d to, is such as is ever medicinal to the soul; namely, a self questioning and displeasure at our own disorders, when we find them the authors of our disease; which commonly raises that godly sorrow (the Apostle approves as) producing just indignation, 2 Cor. 7 11. Zeal and re­venge. Nor does this privation, like our other destitutions of [Page 206] fortune, call our minds into the world, and urge our solicitudes towards recoveries, and new traffique for earthly commodities; but rather averts and divorces our thoughts from such inquests. So that upon these considerations, sickness cannot be deny'd this excellent propertie, of being the soundest and least tainted with an offensiveness to God of all those crosses and tribulations, wherewith he disciplines his children.

Methinks then, I may not unfitly say, in favour of this so distasteful cup, All other afflictions (wherewith God treats and medicines our infirm souls) are like those Drugs which have some poisonous qualitie; by which though they purge divers peccant humors, yet they likewise offend some sound part of the bodie: but sickness may be said to have the propertie of a Cri­sis; whereby nature expels selectedly, the nocent part which op­presses her, and so relieves, without any injurious mixture. For in those crosses whereby God is offended on the one side by the actors, though they purge the patients, yet there is this noxious condition, which is displeasing to God, ev'n while it has some good operation: but, in this cross of sickness, there is not that mixture of iniquitie, by which any law is violated; and there­fore it works more simply the purgation of the sufferer. Whence it may be resembled to the operation of a spiritual Crisis: while those other tribulations, having in them so much offensive vio­lence, like those strong drugs, taint and deprave some members of Christs body, though to others they serve for remedies and restauration.

And surely, for this reason in part, David preferr'd sickness before those other crosses denounc'd him: for by falling into the hands of God singlie, he could not apprehend a farther of­fence to him, while he was the only executor of the judgment. And was not Ezechias treated more favorably by this exercising disease, then any other of the Kings of Israel, by their exposure to foreign enemies? he was, but, as it were, committed to his own house; and the others deliver'd up to publick justice: such a difference there is between being punish'd by our own or others bodies.

I may therefore very reasonably offer these motives of allevi­ation to this state of sufferance; that we have to do with God singly in this affliction, and that he has chosen for us the most innocent purgation; which ought to allay much the asperitie of it. Let me, then, prescribe this Cordial, in the first seisure of our disease: the taking it as a mercie, to be faln into the hands of God, and not of man.

SECT. IV.
Some useful thoughts propos'd to instruct and ease the mind of thoughtful persons; espe­cially in sleepless nights.

SInce Physitians pretend not any art to suppress melancholy and distracting thoughts; nor can promise so much as the suspending them by the interposure of sleep, which leaves, as it were, their shadows floating in our fancie; while reason, their substance, remains excluded: if material applications undertake not this mental case; it must needs be very useful to administer some spiritual remedies, that may possess the mind with proper, if not pleasant occupations.

I shall therefore offer this in the first place, as a seasonable co­gitation, To ruminate seriously upon the deformitie of sin, ex­pos'd to our apprehensions in the suffering and disfigurement of our body; since in our own pains and vexations, we most easily perceive the nakedness of that which has introduc'd these unhap­pinesses. For though every miserable or diseas'd body be a fi­gure of sin unvail'd; and by how much more horrid, so much liker it is: yet the father of this deformitie entertains our se­duc'd nature in such aversion from those objects: that we com­monly [Page 208] haste our eys over those unpleasant passages, and stay not long enough for their imprinting in our thoughts the Image of sin: for he breaks those foul species as soon as he can, by the variation of the object; carrying our eyes to the beautie and loveliness of fair and sound bodies: wherein he covers so well the fouln [...]s [...] of this, that in them it becomes a temptation rather then a terror. So that the calamities of other bodies discover not so easily to us the ugliness of sin: but when our own comes to be torn and disfigur'd, he cannot divert our eyes by the al­lurement of other prospects; our looks being so fix'd upon them, that the reflection of sins image imprints in our thoughts a lively picture of it. For then the Devil with all his arts can­not fasten his flattering colours upon a tortur'd and dissolving bodie, no more then we can paint upon dust or ashes, which dissipate as soon as they are touch'd: since, just so, when our own bodies are falling in pieces, no species of beautie will fix and seat it self in our eyes: and consequently, we then most clearly discern the natural foulness of sin; which is as much more horrid then any corporal pain or deformitie, as eternitie is longer then the longest time.

And the having this monster in our eye, renders the ill-fa­vour'dness of any transitory punishment much more tolerable. For when we consider that our health and vigour have often be­got and nurs'd this monster; with the same love, as if it were a fair and dear issue, which our sickness and sufferance discovers to us to be of a very detestable nature: as much then as we ab­hor this destructive errour, so much we deduct from the distaste of our present grievances: when these breaches made into our bodies, let in that light, by which we see the avoidance of eter­nal torments, whereof we can judge best when we are in actual pains. And these considerations may easily produce patience; while we accept our sickness under the notion of a delivery from a greater, and not as an absolute affliction.

By this means likewise, the mind intends her own business; and is not taken up with the bodies importunate clamors which call for a continual attendance to bemoan, at least, its com­plaints; [Page 209] and commonly the sensitive part is like a child, sooner still'd when it cryes, by chiding, then by cherishing and bemoaning: wherefore the rational soul should rather look se­verely, then fondly upon the complaining body: to which purpose, while our thoughts leisurely ball [...]nce against our suffer­ings, our own demerits to God, or confront our condition with many others, (of whose offences we cannot judge so sure­ly as of our own, and yet may conclude their burthens heavier,) these reflections may at least alleviate our grievances, if not si­lence our laments.

Let those then, who lye upon their easie beds, s [...]v'd with such accommodations as would, certainly be a cure to many thousand of their sick brethren in the streets and h [...]ghwayes; let them send forth their thoughts to visit those fellow-sufferers, whose very disease is the destitution of such helps as over-flow about them: and those objects cannot choose but deduct much from the accompt of their own miserie. And surely God leaves such affrighting prospects in those publick places on purpose to encounter those daintie and nice eyes; which in their own Pala­ces, behold nothing but material or metaphorical flattering-glasses, that reflect to them only the loveliness of humane na­ture: and to this end, he seems to set so many horrid figures in the way, where those wandring eyes pass, only, towards some new varied delighting object, viz. to shew them the way of all flesh and blood, which they are moving in, and commonly, the faster, the less they think of it. Methinks those bodies bro­ken and cleft by sickness and other violences, are the houses of our humanitie: left open for our thoughts to enter and see with­in dores the frailtie of their materials; while our own are shut up to us by some present health and happiness: insomuch that such distress'd carcasses offer this charitie; namely, the furniture of this truth, which is the passengers great want, and alwayes costs them so dear; while they ask but a small alms of those inconsidering and straying eyes: for which they may serve as guides to set them into their way of discerning truly their own state and constitution, thus laid open to their senses; which they [Page 210] relye most upon for their opinions, not considering their makers information, [...]o [...]. 35. [...]. that man is but rottenness, and the son of man but as a worm.

And let our present patient (visiting the streets and the high­wayes, now, to take the air of common sufferance) consider, for a receipt, how often he has run away from the voice of the publick criers of humane miserie (as I may well term them;) with little attention either to what they petition'd or proclaim'd: and if he be rightly sensible of his past inconsiderateness, the ex­cess of their miserie will afford him more charitie, then his ful­ness of means did allow them. For he will be somewhat eas'd by comparing their surpassing grievances with his own: whereas they, receiving no relief from his compassion, found possibly some addition to their calamitie, by the comparison of his con­dition. The circumstance of Lazarus lying at Dives's dore, did undoubtedly sharpen the pain of his hunger: and had the corruption of Dives full diet broke out into sores, the looking out upon Lazarus's ulcers and their dressings, set by his own balms and odours, must needs have lightned his complaints. And thus a Lazar may, in this life, cast water upon the tongue of a Dives, though, in the next, he must heap coals of fire.

As for such rich and religious persons, who venture frequent­ly their best health towards the relief of the worst that is found in Spittles and Hospitals; (where the inside of humane nature seems to be turn'd outward, in the exposure of nothing but foul­ness, ordure, and corruption:) this naked view of man, leaves in such minds, so lively images of the miseries of their brethren, that when they fall sick, what abatement they find in the tax of their own disease in respect of others, or advantage in their suc­cours, serves to deduct so much from the sense of their affliction; and then, what was the most noisome and offensive in their cha­ritable offices, proves the most easing and consolatorie in this state of their infirmitie: For in this their necessitie, all the sick they have tended and succour'd, return them (as I may say) their visi [...]s; coming into the presence of their memories, and attend­ing [Page 211] there to solace their minds: and then the most loathsome diseases, and the most loading necessities, that present themselves to their consideration, minister to their lighter sufferings the most extenuation; practising this advice of the holy Spirit, He shall look upon men and say, I have sinned, Job 33.27. and have not recei­ved what I deserv'd.

Commonly indeed, we propose to the sick, rather light and careless amusements, then such serious cogitations; and 'tis certain, such rockings and lullings of our fancie are proper in their turns: but the rational part must have nourishment as well as rest, in this condition. Wherefore the mind ought to have her time of feeding upon this solid meat of spiritual reflections, and then these other emptie and indifferent recreative thoughts take their place with more conveniencie and fitness; as sleep and repose follow properly after sustenance and refection. So too, when the mind is stock'd with solid notions, it will not fear being left in the dark; that is, depriv'd of those exterior lights of comfort which friends hold about the bed: for a a spirit furnish'd with interior watch-lights, is much less per­plex'd with sleepless nights; then one left solitarie in the dark, void of such impressions as may keep out the affrighting images rising from a distemper'd brain which is a familiar case; when the inferior office of the stomach whose place is to shut up, by sweet vapours, all the dores and windows of the senses, that neither the lights of reason, nor the noise of memory may exer­cise the brain; so that the cessancie of this Master-Actor may impart rest to the whole body:) when this lower part is so vi­tiously affected, that it sends up nothing but rude and offensive company to the brain; it is commonly more ease to awake our reason and discourse, to confute their deceitful terrours, then to expect that sleep should come in to our succour and ex­tinguish those blazes, wherewith our fancie is fired, and the whole brain tormented. Insomuch that this happens many times to sick persons (whereof I am an experienc'd witness) that it is more ease to watch against those affrighting slumbers, then to hope for repose or refreshment by them. Wherefore, [Page 212] to these distracting watchings, which want exterior amuse­ments, there should be ministred some conserve of pertinent meditation.

In this wearisome state, where sleep flyes from our eyes, and the more thoughts we send after to se [...]k it, the farther it goes from us: the next way to lay our sp [...]rits at ease, is to call off our imagination from that pursuit of this Image, and fix it upon the original, which this copie, contrarie to all others, by an [...]xcessive use of it, rather excludes, then expresses to our m [...]nd. For a little reflection will serve to represent to [...]s how often the soundness and deadness of sleep has remov'd [...]om us all thoughts of death: Let us therefore, in this dep [...]vement of sleep, make use of our waking; and not lose th [...]t too, by a stop [...]i'd incogitancie: but rather, by some useful recogitations, recover many of those nights, which the abuse of sleep has set upon our accompt, to be discharg'd by vigi­lancie.

If we consider the nights repose should serve us as a continual memorial of our last rest, and our bed stand for a model of our Coffin: If we have often drawn these notions from them; or so far from this good use, have serv'd our selves of them both, as means of forgetting, not only our temporal, but ev'n, our eternal death. If upon these examinations we find that this time, which was ordain'd to be the most innocent and harmless of our life, has been perverted into the most guilty and offensive; having chosen the night, design'd for a cessa­tion of the evils of labour, to make it an expedient for the more activitie in the ill of sin rendring that darkness, which should put out all iniquitie▪ the means of covering and securing it: They who have many of these truly horrid waking nights upon their accompt, may be much comforted to think, that by this faultless wakefulness, they may through the workings of a contrite spirit, retract the guiltiness of their voluntary watches; wherein (as the holy Spirit reproaches them) they sleep not till they have done mischief.

Those, to whom riotous intemperancie has heretofore so easily furnish'd sleep, that they have had no time to reflect upon that undue means to which they ow'd their unhappy rest (which rose from the gross and foul vapours of sin, whereby their reason was more extinguish'd before, then in their sleep, their dreams having more of it in them, then their discourse:) when such lavish unthrift healths come to be arrested by sickness, and then by the soul, charg'd with the debt of so much time, which the body is to answer for, as having cast that away which belong'd to her. In this case, the sick body may think hims [...]lf favour'd, by this intermission of sleep; whereby he may repay to his soul by his penitent wakings, some of that time he is indebted, by his vitious sleeps: accounting just, that, having by the excess of diet, grown so much in debt, now by the want of appetite, he should be brought to make his restitution. And if, as he may by his watchfull thoughts, he draw the light of, grace out of this darkness; keeping his intellectual eyes open upon the differences of these two states, reposing securely in sin, or being in this discounting and satisfactory disquiet: he will easily acknowledge it a more miserable condition to be in a sound sleep, with any mortal sin, then painfully and penitently awake, in the most mortal sickness: since to the one, the devil makes his bed in his health; and to the other, God makes it, in his sickness, while he keeps him in this expiatory vigilancie, and is dispo­sing him to eternal rest. Wherefore, in this state, I shall propose to such restless penitents this awaking cordial of the Apostle: The night is past, and the day is at hand; Rom. 13.12 let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and put on the Armor of light. So that if in our life past, we have made use of darkness, more securely to forge offensive weapons against God and our neighbour: we may now, while we are justly de­barr'd the best use of natural darkness, which is rest, set our thoughts to work upon this defensive Armor of Light, viz. a solid penitence, and a deep contrition; and in that disposition [Page 214] conform our selves to our present state, saying with the A­postle,Thess. 5.6. Let us not sleep as others do, but let us watch and be sober.

And such as have not so much weight of guiltie sleep upon their memorie to counterpoise the heaviness of their eyes, and so hold them open; in a satisfactory purgation [...]f their having often presum'd, in health, to close themselves, while they shut up so horrid a bedfellow as mortal sin; yet these lesser accomp­tants want not, it may be, much abuse of sleep to answer for. As many tender indulgers of their bodie, who have, in their health, assign'd excessive measures of sleep, towards the flat­tering of the flesh; and under the title of the bodies health, have retrench'd the mind of half her life: when sickness makes this reprisal of some time to render to the soul; may they not well reflect upon this justice, and acquiesce to it? How few are there that cannot charge themselves with many watching nights past away pleasantly, either in the designing or acting of vanities; and may not remember with what a chearful and lightsome dis­position, without the least touch of sleepiness, they have feast­ed, play'd or sported away whole nights: and on the contrary, how drowsie and heavie-ey'd they have been at those exercises where time was to be recover'd, not passed away? one of those day-hours is often too heavy for those eyes to bear, without sinking under it; which can carry whole nights broad open, without feeling any heaviness, while they are running in chase of their appetites and passions.

These Prodigals of health and time when they come to want ev'n the husks, as it were, of those sweet sleeps, for which they were wont to choose their own hours; in this condition envy­ing ev'n their own mercenaries, which abound in what they languish for. As when the servants that watch with them can­not drive sleep from their eyes, while it fl [...]es from their masters: and the very sleep that is about them, serves but to disquiet them; for the sounder it is in him that should watch, the far­ther it proves from him that should sleep; t [...]e attendants rest contributing to the attendeds waking and dis [...]urbance: when this [Page 215] tender patient, as I said, lies in this uneasie tossing of body and mind; let him fix his thoughts upon the levities and vanities of his health: and let him imagine he is, by this agitation, throw­ing off those feathers and straws, wherewith his easie and de­lightful bed heretofore has cover'd him; which if he goe out of the world with them sticking upon him, will prove fuel to that purging flame; whose the sharpness surpasses all we can apprehend, except that which has eternitie added to its aspe­ritie.

And when he considers, that by a patient and penitent ac­ceptance of this vexatious state, he may cast off much of that foulness, whose purgation is indispensable; and thinks how use­ful these restless hours may prove to work out that, which re­pose would but cover over, not expunge. These serious atten­tions will sooner still and ease his mind, then a wearisome long­ing, and expectance of sleep. This was King Davids remedie, who wanted no artifice to procure rest;Ps. 76. when his eyes were kept waking, and he was troubled and spake not; he sayes, I was con­verted in the night, with my heart I was exercised, and made clean my spirit. Wherefore this work which we may best do in the dark, is to be intended in this conjuncture, whereby we may convert that time, into the improvement of a bet­ter life, then that which this restless posture can im­pair.

As this is the most disconsolate state of sickness, so it re­quires the most powerful applications: I have therefore us'd all my art, to extract ev'n out of the poisonous bodie of sin, (thus calcin'd and consum'd by the ardors of our feavour) such a spirit or salt of penitent reflections, as may give ease to the Patient; not by stupifying, but by quickning his senses: and sweeten the natural necessitie of his waking, by the vertuous assignation of it. And since the best means to assure us against starting at the sight of death, is to look frequently and fixedly with broad open eyes upon it; surely, in this state, when the approach of it seems to hold them thus unclos'd, we should ke [...]p our spirits awake, and watching upon deaths incroach­ments; [Page 216] which are discernable by the shortning of this shadow of death; namely, sleep. For we know that th [...] n [...]a [...]r and more perpendicular death it self comes to be over our head, [...]he lesser this shadow of it grows. Wherefor [...] [...]n this its evident ad­vance towards us (when we may perceive our hours passing a­way by the want of this shaddow) we may well think it time to s [...]t our voluntary watch, by this order of watch and pray, lest you enter into temptation. And by th [...]s pious intendment, the soul may b [...] found filling her Lamp at midnight, with that oil which will not only light her in her way, but likewise asswage and lenisie the dolors of the body in the passage: wherefore in all respects, I may recommended this manner of improving this grievous and tedious time to nature; by the mediation of the vi­gilancie of grace, whereby we are intituled to this promise of eternal rest, Blessed are they, whom when the Lord cometh, he finds watching.

SECT. V.
The result of all t [...]se considerations: and the good us [...]s to be made of sickn [...]ss.

VVE have consulted upon sickness it self in the abstract; and having found the spring of it rising in the brain of man, (for his straining to elevate his understanding bruis'd that, and broke his body in pieces with the fall:) we may won­der the less that the soul seems to suffer and waste with the bo­dies infirmities, since she is culpable of this def [...]ction. So that though she lose not her immortalitie by this unhappy act; yet it seems not unjust, she should be some times frighted by this ap­pr [...]hension in those extr [...]mities of the bodies sufferings, deriv'd from her own peccancie: Nor can it be expected that such a [Page 217] mind, as has serv'd it self of the fairness and clearness of the bodies constitution, only to plunge it self the deeper into flesh and blood, so to take the fuller draught of the sweets of every sense; when the gall (as I may say) overflows into each of their cups, such mind should not then taste the bitterness of this change, and seem almost poisoned by this di­stastefulness. Wherfore we have advis'd the soul to keep her self (as much as her state will allow) disinterested in the bodies transitory felicities; a­gainst whose deceitful outside we are premonish'd by their Maker, to value them as the beauty of flowers, or of grass; such marks of their va­nishing away has God been pleas'd to set upon those his gifts, which by their present loveliness, might indanger our inconsidering their imper­manent nature. The soul then, ought to make use of the bodies soundness and integrity, as a passenger of a bright & clear day; to make the farther discovery of her way, out of the body she is passing through▪ & the clear­ness and good disposition of her organs may serve her as the better pro­spective glasses; by w^ch her eie may reach those distances that in the time of their being clouded and overcast, she cannot attain. And this is the happie and prudent advantage of health, viz. by the activity and good disposure the mind is in, to foresee the inevitable passage, through infir­mitie & indisposition; wherunto she is tending in this state of her peregri­nation: and by this prenotion of her consequent danger, (of being ob­scur'd by the bodies darkness) to prepare such a stock of self-knowledge; that when the light of her discourse grows dim in the bodies clouds, yet the acts of her intellect may be clear and lightsom, whereby she rests as­sur'd of her own independencie on the bodies dissolution: concluding her remove to tend towards that permanent station, which is pointed at, from the souls first issuing out of it; from w^ch instant it moves in a circu­lar return, as not having here a permanent abode, but seeking another that is to come. This excellent suggestion, from the blessing of health, is singularly remarkable in holy Job▪ whom S. Gregory admires more for his prevision and preparation for sickness and miserie in his prosperous integritie, then for his vertuous tollerancie of his afflictions: whose won­derful prognostick is manifest in this his profession, My sighing comes be­fore I eat, and my roarings are pour'd out like the noise of waters; for the thing I fear'd is come upon me, &c. Job. 3.24. And surely this premedi­tation of his obnoxiousness to all his calamities, conduc'd much to the preserving his mind in her integrity; untainted by the ulcers of his [Page 218] [...] [Page 219] [...] [Page 218] bodie and unoffended by the wounds of his fortune: that find, he ador'd, as he fell; and his soul, keep [...]ng it self in a counterpo­sition to his flesh, remain'd erected in the others dejection. And we have one antidote more then he had; which is communi­cated to us by his sickness, and was the only want he seems to have suffer'd in his extremitie: namely, that God often exer­cises his most favour'd servants, with sickness and other tribula­tions, meerly to refine and heighten their puritie: this is a cor­dial, which ev'n, the most purg'd and sincere souls may take; to give them rest in those flames that melt them down, in order to this refinement: and those who find their souls and bodies charg'd with gross polutions, may comfort themselves with meditating on those rare effects, this purgation of sickness has produc'd. They may remember how much happier Naaman's leprosie prov'd to him, then his Lieutenancie of Syria; his in­firmitie procuring a cleansing to the foulness of his felicitie: for how unlikely is it, that if his health had suited to his other hap­piness, he would have made any account of the fame of the Prophet? the rivers of Damascus would have serv'd to bathe in; and entertain that mental leprosie, which ease and delicacie engender.Mar. 5. How little hope is there, that Jarus the Prince of the Synagogue, would have become a suppliant to one, whom the rest of his Town did so much contemn, had not his daugh­ters sickness solicited this application?

And may not this he brought for a legitimate extenuation of the ills of sicknesse?Mar. 6. to consider that ev'n in Nazareth, Christs own Town, wherein he liv'd three parts of his life, only some few sick persons tasted the blessing of his societie: the rest were scandaliz'd at the eminence of his wisdom and vertue, and ren­dred their relation so much the more criminal by their repug­nancies.

These and the like recogitations cannot choose but temper and allay somewhat the bitterness of this cup; when the pre­senting of the benefit is join'd with the presence of the disgust: and who can deny that very familiarly, the same things we [...]p­prehend, as instantly destructive, become the instruments of pre­servation? [Page 219] like the fish,Tob. 6. which young Toby apprehended as a monster ready to devour him; yet was it design'd by God, both as aliment for his journey, and medicament for his fathers eyes: so how often do those affrighting diseases, which at first shew us the graves mouth open to swallow us, serve as means of longer life, and of cures to some spiritual blindness; insomuch that the contrary to the end of voluptuousness is often verifi'd in the term of this vexation; for it proves a way which at first seems to be wrong; but the issues thereof lead unto life. Prov. 14.12.

If there were a Pool of Bethesda extant; I presume it would have more votaries, then any priviledg'd Altar in the world: and many a poor impotent bodie, that were not likely in a long time, to get the first place, would notwithstanding resort to this possible relief. I therefore exhibit this spiritual Pool to all infirm Patients, which is commonly, accessible to all conditi­ons; namely, the contemplation of the unsoundness and cor­ruption of sinful flesh and blood; whose waters the meanest cripple and the sickest beggar, have not only an Angel to stir, but likewise to cast every one into them. All our good Angels are ready to do both these offices; and surely sick Jobs Guar­dian was stirring these waters, and bathing his sores in them, while he was patiently scraping himself with a Potsheard, and meditating (as S. Gregory inferrs) how one fragment of broken earth was serving another: by which cogitation, in the cleansing and extersion of his bodie, he preserv'd his mind taintlesse and undefil'd; wiping away all murmur or repugnancie towards this his visitation: and keeping his spirit fix'd upon the tr [...]nsi­tory perishableness of humane nature, concluded for his own ease, what may serve us in all our griefs and dolours, While his flesh is upon him, he shall be sorrowful; and while his soul is in him, Job 14 22. it shall mourn.

We have made a visitation general to the sick, we have en­terd Palaces and private houses, survey'd the Spittles and high­wayes; and in both these extreams, we find some medicaments afforded reciprocally from to each the other; the great ones look­ing down upon the far exceeding miseries of their fellows in na­ture [Page 220] may find some extenuation in their own lighter exemp­tions; and the most depress'd looking upward upon the com­mon exposure of all conditions to the greatest sufferance of this life, which is sickness; may take some alleviation in their surchage; by considering that ev'n those, from whom they receive all the eases of their life, are but level and equal with them, in the most grievous affliction of life. For the Founders of Hospitals, and the Patients in them are Fellow Commoners in the state of sickness: So that as the Benefactors may deduct somewhat from their burthens, by weighing them with those whom they reliev'd; these may likewise abate somewhat of their exceeding distresses, by comparing their equalitie with their Masters, in this greatest affliction.

Wherein God observes his commutative justice to our offending nature; rather then his distributive, respecting every personal offence. For since the first person infected our Nature, That infects every person since: so that God himself, when he put on our humanitie, thought not fit to red integrate it, in this point of impassiveness, but has ra­ther apply'd the sufferings of our persons, towards the pur­gation of our nature; and enabled our souls to render our bodies impassible at their second association; whilst in their first conjunction, they are to remain fellow-suf­ferers,Wisd. 9.14. the body which is corruptible, pressing down the soul.

Wherefore the universal remedie must be repeated in this clause, The contemplation of the miseries annex'd to sin­ful flesh and blood, must be the Antidote, taken in our best health to prepare us against the surprize; and the A­pozeme, to ease us in the pressure of sickness, the holy Spirit prescribes us in this Ordinance,Eccles. 11.27. In thy good dayes be mindful of the evill; and in the evill, forget not the good. By which practice, our health shall not be in danger of the surprize of sickness; nor our sickness liable [Page 221] to the despair of betterment and melioration. I will there­fore leave all my Visited,Rom. 14.7. with these cordials of S. Paul by them, None of us lives to himself, neither doth any of us dye to himself; for whether we live, we live unto our Lord; or whether we dye, we dye unto our Lord: up­on the taking whereof we shall find wrought in us this his resolution: Therefore, in all confidence, Phil. 1.20. Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death.

SECT. I.

WE have been long treating and prescribing to sickness; not in order to the saving of life, but to the killing of death; which is oftner done by the sting of sickness, then by any other instrument: for when that is any thing sharp, the sting of death, which is sin, seems unpointed. And when sin ceases, death may be said to be mortally sick; it lies a dying with the same body it is killing, and expires con­jointly with the perishing subject wherein it subsisted, (which are the material elements of the body, the soul at the same in­stant entring into a fuller life:) so that sickness, oftner then health, may say, O death▪ I have been thy death.

Youth and health seem seated by nature, in such an elevation above death, that they cannot look down into a grave, without growing dizzie & amaz'd: such a steep precipice they appre­hend between life and death; whereas the true reason of this lightness of their heads, is the hollow trifles they are fill'd with. It is the imbecilitie of the sense, not the ter­rour of the object, that works upon these heads: Wherefore to [Page 223] settle and assure them they ought to look down often upon this term where they must rest; and so by degrees, they'l not only be able to doe that confidently, but even to walk down that misconceived precipice, between their gardens and their graves. They will consider unmovedly, that the same earth which now opens her pores to present them with all the fruits and flowers they delight in, will shortly open her mouth to swal­low them up; and by way of restitution, turn them into that matter, which shall produce for others the same commodi­ties they owe the earth in their times. These cogitations will prove easie and familiar to them, when they are accustomed, with David, to cary their life in their hands; not forgetting the law of God and nature.

Death is the creature of rebellion; and in revenge thereof, is allow'd by God, to master his own maker, viz. our rebel­lious nature; which is struck with such a terror of this her creature, that of her self, she but flies continually from it, scarce daring to look it in the face; which is notwithstanding, the only defence she has against it. Did not he who first saw death, fly from it, with this confused amazement,Cain. fearing it in every face he saw? But his unexperience may better be ex­cused, then our timerousness; who have seen it in all times and things, for so many thousand years, since his introduction of it: and yet, does not our weak nature commonly turn her face from it, as if that were some kind of evasion? Methinks, those who are afraid to meditate upon the course of nature, (which is inevitably carrying them to death upon the current of time) may be said to do, as if a prisoner (being hurry'd down a river) should alwaies turn his face up the stream, not daring to look that way which he knew himself certainly mo­ving: Is it not such a kind of weakness and impertinency in us, to attend only to the relations of life; not turning our considerations towards the course and consequence of our death? And this is the reason why we so seldom know the best way to this our inevitable end; namely, because we so rarely set our eyes to look upon the passage wherein we are moving; [Page 224] as if our thoughts, going retrograde, could carrie our bodies back along with them; when the truth is, at our first step into this life,Iob 16.23. we enter (as holy Job saies) into a path in which there is no reverting.

The spirit of man therefore in our peregrination through this life, ought as little to trust flesh and blood, in point of Councel, for an intentiveness upon the progression therein; as a traveller to be advised by his host, whether he should march on, or stay and loyter in his house: Such kind of invitations having our sensitive nature, to amuse and divert the spirit by this familiar perswasion, that we have time enough for that in­tendment. For, does not our nature look to regulate the minds application to this passage towards death, by what may be termed Natures own Dial, viz. our Age; by which account, for the most part, we are deceiv'd? Since our ages surely can give us no more security of the succeeding proportions of our life, then dials can of the continuance of those beams, by which they shew us how long the Sun might shine that day out upon our horizon; but not how certainly it shall (not mar­king how soon a cloud may intercept that splendor:) So, albeit nature, by our ages, may shew what time our life may last, yet cannot they ascertain us how long it shall continue▪ for none of those intercepting accidents, which break off the course of nature, are notifi'd to us by our age, no more then the change of weather is upon Sun-dials. Wherefore grace calls upon us to watch continually; as not knowing at what hour we may be surprized; for we are oftner benighted, by the intervention of casualties, then by the natural efflux of time.

Death is allow'd to use us more like our master then our crea­ture; it seldom staies for natures leavings. Nor can we complain of it; for since our delusion and surprize w [...]s its making, we cannot expect other, then that there should be surprizing and deceiving in its nature; wherefore as credulity and presumpti­on produc'd it; caution and diffidence must prepare against it. Let not then even Youth and Health (Natures greatest [Page 225] strengths) make us slacken our watches; for death very often makes use of them as the best blindes for his approaches; and Nature of her self, seldom looks through them upon the enemy, when they are before her. How frequently doth death work, and even spring the Myne; while our youth and health is buil­ding up that hollow earth, which in an instant is blown up and evaporated?

How reasonable is it then to propose to our youth and health, that since they account death such an enemy, they would pro­ceed with it, as with one; that is, seek to provide against it: which may be done by an easie means; viz. by but making themselves familiar with it. The great and only real enemy of our nature, the old serpent (who makes no prize, but by deaths hand) uses all his arts to divert this intelligence, knowing how easily, by that means, it may be gain'd by us, against him: and commonly he prevails so far with our youth, that it pas­ses without any serious correspondence with death (insomuch, that many of those who brave it every day in publick, dare not converse with it in private) so fondly are they abused in the way to the securing themselves against this apprehended enemy.

Alas! how common is it, to see the youth of the world grow as bold with death (when 'tis but cover'd over in the smoak of fame and vain-glory) as if they were agreed of an exchange, be­tween their own vital, and a little of the flattering breath of o­thers: and yet the same persons can hardly be perswaded to bestow never so little of their breath, to converse with death bare-fac'd, as it is the issue of sin? How wearisome is the least discourse of it, to the bold libertines of this age; who even by the sting of death, sin; are rendred insensible of its poyson: and by this unhappy course, find that second death which so seldom comes into their apprehensions.

SECT. II.
Of the Folly, as well as Ʋnchristianness of Du [...]ls.

LOoking down from the Pinnacle of the Temple, into the houses, streets, high-waies, and fields of the world; where I find death acting in so many and so divers postures; methinks there's no one whereby the Prince of darkness tri­umphs more over our humane nature, then (this wherein he im­ployes our courage, even the vertue of our nature to destroy it self) by the desperate practise of duels. It must needs there­fore be very pertinent to our present subject, to labour the dis­arming of death; and taking away these unnatural weapons, which procure so many double deaths, and consequently Tro­phies for the enemy of mankind.

Since God himself was pleased, as S. Paul saith, To partake of flesh and bloud; Heb. 2. that through death, he might destroy him who had the empire of death: Methinks the devil has repair'd the loss of many other prerogatives, by this particular power which seems increas'd. He hath lost most of his Altars; but to this Idol of private same and vainglory, he has more sacrifice, then even in the fulness of his reigne: For death still flies about this age, upon sames wings, so little apprehended, that our youth seem rather disciples still of the Heathen Poets, then of the Heavenly Apostles; whose doctrine is, that, Those who live by Christs death, are not to live to themselves, but to him who died for them. So that our lives are listed and in service, against the Prince of this world; and consequently, it is quitting our par­ty to venture our lives either for revenge, or popular vain-glory: for these are truly the enemies colours, under which we are so desperately forward: insomuch, that the more we despise death in these occasions, the more we combat for our enemy, [Page 227] who by this undue contempt of death, while we fight for his side, reduces us into the bondage of it.

Methinks the devil entertains the youth of the world in this dependance on him, as he did the Ancient Gentiles, viz. by returning them some fair answers out of the mouth of this Idol, Fame, which passeth for the Oracle, whereby they govern their actions, and whereto they make such offerings as were used too among the Gentiles, with an infusion of humane bloud. May it not then be truely said, they who keep up this bloudy prerogative of the Devil, are more subjects of Apollyon, or the destroyer, then of the soveraigne Saviour of man­kind.

Is it not strange that many who are such lovers of this life, that all their thoughts and actions are assign'd to the cherishing and sweetning it, by all the voluptuousness and sensuality they can compass; insomuch, that when death is but discours'd of seriously, their spirits flie off, as those evil ones did from Christ, crying, What have we to do with thee! Mat. 8. thou art come to torment us before our time: Yet when this subtile spirit of Honour does but whisper to them, ev'n these presently start out of their beds of ease, and run out naked to meet death (having nothing but sin to defend themselves against it; for murder is the secu­rity they propose to themselves:) and in this strange madness, as if they had disarm'd it by having sin in their hands, they confi­dently expose themselves to temporal and eternal perdition?

O how miserable an estate is this; when the only sting of death, which is sin, is become the only receipt minister'd to save our lives!

May not those two so opposite iniquities in this licentious Youth, be fitly termed a possession, in an order quite contrary to that of the Spirit Legion in the Gospel, who possess'd the man first, and then the swine? For here, the evil spirit ap­pears first in the beast, that is, in the foulness and sensuality of their lives; and from thence passes into the man; namely, into that vain affectation of manhood and valour, the desperate fu­ry whereof, even the chains of voluptuousnesse cannot hold [Page 228] from casting the man away. Besides, this distemper hath this special mark of a possession, that no civil act nor order can find remedy for it: for, does not this raging humour, like the Spirit Legion, break all the chains and bands of civil penalties; and how seldom is it subjected even to the exorcismes and con­jurations of Religion?

For, are there not many fully convinc'd of the impiety of this practise, who in their hearts detest this action; yet may be said to be like divers of the principal Jews, who after they believ'd in Christ, durst not profess it, for fear of that order the Pharisees had made, that whoever profest Christ, should be cast out of the Synagogue? So there are divers who after their approbation, dare not practise this Christian precept, of not resenting injuries, for fear of the worlds ungodly order, that casts such out of the society of popular estimation, who pra­ctise a conformity to this duty; and therein resemble true Jews far more then true Christians; seeking, as Christ reproach'd them, Glory from one another, and not from him who only can give it; preferring the glory of men before that of God. With what face can these undervaluers of eternal glory, hope to look upon the King of it, whose dissimilitude they have so much affected in this life? how can they pretend to become like him in the other, when they venture their lives so frankly, on pur­pose to disresemble him, viz. to resent the injuries, and solli­cite the praises of men?

This unhappy condition of the Duelists of this age (which I may not unfitly call the life-guard to the Prince of darkness) remembers me what S. Jerome saith of the ancient famous Gen­tiles; What are you the better for being praised by men, while you are scorn'd and reviled by divels? What gain you to be flatter'd where you never are, when you are tormented where you are eternally? Let them think calmly what a bargain they are making, when they are bidding their eternity for a blast of air; and what then they can answer to this question of the holy spirit, You lovers of same, Which of you can dwell with everlasting infamy? For every sinner shall be everlastingly [Page 229] tormented, by the contrary of his own vitious passion. They who can resolve this in cold bloud before they go into the field, may be allow'd to run the fortune; for I conceive, very few that take time to weigh and counterpoise this hazard with what they seek in exchange, will resolve the adventure.

I am not ignorant of the common secular defence against these ecclesiastical censures; the plea is, They must either go out of the world, or enter into this contract of honor; which is the band of secular societies. To this I answer, If there were no other world, I should agree that life were lost in this, when the esteem of the person is perished; but he who has bidden us pull out our right eye, and cut off our right hand, and go thus maim'd out of this world, rather then indanger the other lifes misery and torment, has certainly brighter beams of glory to return us; for every little spot of shame we are aspersed with, from the unclean mouths of the world, while we are figuring our conformity to Christ: Supposing this perswasion, what difficulty can there be in going out of the worlds errors and mis-accounts, without quitting our secular vocation, that is, to despise the worlds injurious disvallue, and assigne our reparati­on upon the other life's remuneration? I am verily perswaded, that whoever could resolve to endure the shame and reproach of the world, rather then dare to injure Christ's doctrine in this way of righting himself, would pass in Christ's Court of Ho­nour, in the rank of a Martyr; and might at least entitle him­self to the promises made to those who had left even more then father or brother, or houses and goods, if not then even life it self. O upon how glorious a throne would such a re­linquisher be set to judge all the preferrers of worldly fame be­fore immortal glory! And with what a horrid confusion will the other unhappy criminals confess to these their Judges, How senseless were we, when we accounted your lives folly?

But in this my Meditation on motives to reclaim this inhu­manity, when I remember what continual exhortations the Church exhibits towards the conversion of mens opinions; and [Page 230] what sharp comminations it uses for the restraint of this impie­ie: I break off that application, and conclude as I have not unaptly term'd it, a possession; whence I shall do better to treat it by way of Prayer then of Precepts: and truly my soul shall be very zealously addicted to this exorcism.

I have character'd this spirit of duelling as ugly and deform'd as I could: and surely it is not an improper figure, in this design of death I have in hand; because death is fouler in that shape then in any other. Happily too many may sooner reflect more upon the deformitie of this sin; beholding it in this piece of Di­vine, then in the other of secular Justice. I beseech Almightie God to set his hand to, and touch it over; so that they who look upon it, may find his hand in it, that has translated us from life to death, by the dilection of our brother.

SECT. III.
Advertisements to young Women against their diversions from considering of death.

VVE have endeavour'd to disarm death of one of the sharpest weapons the Devil furnishes him, in the hands of men; which are the swords of Duellists: nor will it be less useful to essay his disarming of those darts, whereof, though but fabulous, yet he makes real use: for, as the Apostle sayes, the end of them is death. These are those vain shafts of praises and flatteries which Loves Poetical Quiver affords; to wound indeed the understanding and judgment of young women; by which means, they are in danger of making no provision against death, through that great distance the false lights of vain men seem to set them in, from mortalitie and perishing. Is not the stile of the world to young women such, that one may [Page 231] say, men seem to be studying an exchange for mans first decep­tion; by shutting the eyes of women towards the discernment of the evils of this life; and consequently to punish them by their over-loving it? For now adayes few converse with youth­ful and handsom [...] persons, but to entertain them with shews and triumphs of their own beauties: being led so far from the thought of their own frailtie, that commonly, they hear of no­thing, but what themselves are idly said to consume and destroy; not a word of their own true perishing and consumption. It would be thought a rude, if not an unreasonable advice, to tell them, that when they look upon their most partial glasses, ev'n then they see but a deaths-head; and yet this is a verier truth then those reflections which the flatteries of the world make them; for that will one day be true, and every day advances that truth; whereas the other fain'd immortal ascriptions ne­ver were true, and are every day going farther off from the ap­parences of it. But alas, for the most part, this frail sex in the world, is so inconsidering of truth, that while they have beams of praises and fl [...]tteries in their faces, they imagine not they m [...]ke any shadow behind them: when the truth is, all the while they live in the belief of these vain adulations, they are sitting in darkness, and the shadow of death.

The familiarity with truth, is certainly, the only means for a safe and friendly acquaintance with death. Hence it is that they who seldom hear of him, but in some such fiction, as they cannot credit, ev'n while they are fancied by it (as in all those frivolous attributions to themselves of the power of life and death,) such cannot be much wondred at, for remaining in an inconsideration, and incogitancie of their own dissolution. For by the means of those amusements, women may be said, too frequently, held inchanted by their own charms; since ev'n their advantages of nature, perverted by flatteries, dazel and blind them, in the understanding their own nature. This befals them, when beautie (the fadingness whereof is the greatest de­t [...]ctor and impeacher of our frailtie) proves an insurer of the lastingness of this life: and when this light becomes darkness, how [Page 232] great must this darkness be? when the creature, by this account, takes Gods blessings as pawns for securitie of her idle wishes; and by them, induces an unmindfulness of her Creators order, imprinted in the same fading colours and figures that make all mortal beautie.

Does not this veritie manifest how pernicious that fabulous entertainment (which young women are diverted by) is to the knowledge of themselves: for though in these pleasant parts which men are acting before them, there may be many so in­nocent that they mark the language only, and mind not the plot: yet at the best, these vails of falsities keep them unacquainted with the face of truth: by which they should come to va­lue life, not as it diverts them, but as it disposes them for death.

I may therefore very justly propose to all young women, the suspecting and discrediting all great praises and indearments of themselves, which are offer'd them: For surely, the more they are believ'd, the less they are true. Let them credit only such as profess the making love to truth; who will inform them that beautie is the greater blessing, the less it is valu'd and ac­counted upon; and teach them to extend its blessing beyond the duration of its matter. For the vertue of neglecting it while it continu'd shall remain a lasting beautie; when the frail matter is pass'd and perish'd: and we know corporal beautie is so perishable a fruit of nature, that it seldom lasts out her sea­son. Wherefore, not to be seduc'd by its present attractives, is the only means of gathering and laying up the blessing of beautie: remembring what the holy Spirit admonishes us, Beau­ty is vain, and handsomness deceitful; the woman that fears God shall only be praised.

I have labour'd to discouncel the crediting those excessive commendations (which are for the most part, unbeliev'd ev'n by the presenters themselves) as being much in order to my design: for such as are out of danger of being affected with these flatteries, are well advanc'd towards the knowledge of the little estimableness of this life. And this perswasion will lead them, [Page 233] by an easie gradation to an acquaintance and correspondence with death: which being thus entred into, will be so far from overcasting the lightsomness of any legitimate delights, that it will clear and dissipate, ev'n most of the clouds and obscuri­ties of life; and keep them from being surpriz'd by the fore­seen eclipse.

Let me therefore beseech these young persons, to whom I address this advise, that in stead of the fashion of assigning so many thoughts to this purpose of passing pleasantly their time; they would allot some little portion of every day to the thinking on what is to follow after all their time is past; and when they look so far forward, they'l find death expecting them in that posture they have put it, by the passing of their time: either as a bridge, lying under their feet, only to pass them over to eternal beatitude; of as a torrent roaring, and frighting them with a precipitous fall. If they will but consider that all our life is but a composition of death, and every day works upon it, ev'n while we think least on't; they'l easily be perswaded to assign some time in each day to the surveying this work: which once done we can never mend again; and by this me­thod of a daily supervising, can hardly be ill finish'd: we have the Holy Ghosts word for it, Think on thine end, and thou shalt never sin. This course of frequent meditation on death, shall set the practiser so much above the fear of it, that this of the Prophet may fitly be apply'd to this case, The sucking child shall play upon the hole of the asp; Isa. 11 [...] 8. and the weaned child shall put his hand into the Serpents nest.

SECT. IV.
The duties of a good Christian, in order to his death.

I Have assail'd the two greatest strengths, the enemie of humane nature holds in it; namely sensualitie and vain­glory in the stronger, levitie and self-love in the weaker sex. And if by the grace of God, I have made sufficient overture for those pious considerations I have presented; it will be easie for them once entred to turn the enemies artillery against himself: for as soon as true devotion possesses it self of the considerations of the end of man, death may easily be turn'd against hell and the Devil be defeated by his own arms.

These past remonstrances we have made to the youth of both sexes, may seem to many sound Christians, but a kind of worm-seed given to purge the children, only in Christianitie, of these corruptions incident to their youth. We shall there­fore now labour to serve in some of the solid meat of the Go­spel;Heb. 6. fit aliment for such as have their senses exercis'd in the discernment of good and evil.

The blessed Apostle S. Paul (who had as many triumphs over death, as d [...]yes in the world, by his d [...]ing dayly) shews us death as it were an Usher that receives Christians into the Chur [...]h militant,Rom 6. and conveys them into the triumphant, Know ye not that all we that are baptized in Christ Jesus, are baptized into his d [...]ath? for we are buried with him by baptism into death▪ but if [...]e be dead with Christ, we believe we shall like­wise live again with him. So that as we enter into the Church mil [...]tant by a mystical; we cannot pass into the triumphant, but by a natural death. Whereby is prov'd, that the perpetual thought of death ought to be our guide and conduct through this life; and conseq [...]ently our business in this world is to extri­cate, [Page 235] not plunge and immerse our spirits into the appetites of flesh and blood: for the Apostle explains his meaning of being dead in the baptism of Christ, saying, those who are his, Gal. 5. have crucified the flesh, with all the affections and lusts thereof. For which work nothing is more efficacious, then the intervention of our mortalitie, since in our combat with the old man, (who would alwayes fain die of age, rather then of a violent death, that is, rather expire by nature then be extinguish'd by grace,) we find no so powerful succour, as the calling in the cogitati­ons of our inevitable end; our most passionate nature is seldom bold enough to hold up sin in the face of death: wherefore the strongest passions do but blind life, they dare not brave death; but divert the soul from looking upon our end, not embolden her to defie it.

The Serpent pursues this first method with the sons of Adam; he pretends not that the beautie of the fruit should overcome the terror of death, when they are both set together in our eye; but keeps the one out of sight, with this suggestion, nequaquam moriemini, ye shall not dye, though you taste the fruit: thus ei­ther diverting them from the thought of death, or deluding them by the promise of life, enough to provide against the dan­ger of it: so that the flesh, the world, and the Devil, all three join'd, are not strong enough against the presence of death, when it is brought face to face before them. We may conclude how powerful God intended death should be towards the preventi­on of sin; when he serv'd himself of that menace, aptly to keep sin out of humane nature: and though he then justly turn'd it into the punishment of sin; yet has he still left in it much vertue towards the opposition and exclusion of sin.

In proof whereof, ev'n the greatest libertines may be allow'd to do any thing, which they would not stick to do at the hour of their death: whereof not only the coercive, but the directive power is so much acknowledg'd even by the light of natural reason, that a meer Philosopher affords us this excellent sen­tence, This is the supreme point of wisdom, to do only such things all the time we are in the greatest probabilitie of li­ving [Page 236] which we would do, if we were in the present expectance of dying. In confirmation of which truth, I may safely bring S. Pauls testimony, and propose no more to Christians, Walk by the same rule; Phil. 3.15. as many as will be perfect, must be thus minded.

And undoubtedly, the squaring our actions by this rule, is not only useful, as to the regulating our vitious appetites, but likewise very conducing to the mitigation and sweetning of all our pressures and sufferings. Let any one in his sharpest sorrows and afflictions, but seriously consider what sense he should have of them, if he lay then a dying; and ponder inge­nuously how little he should be mov'd with this present vexa­tion in that case: whether he would not look forward rather, to the consequence of this suffering, then to the instant inconve­niencie. Would not all his thoughts be set upon that state, which he look'd upon as perpetual; not on this transitory mo­ment of sensible disquiet? Certainly whoever shall use this pre­script of judging his actions and sufferances, as if he were but neer dying; shall never be much transported by his senses, either to inordinate pleasures, or overcharging sor­rows.

This admitted, the best advice that can be given to the happy conditions of this life, is, That they would consider all their present establishments, as transitory and dying things: and that (according to this affection the Arabian bird is said to have to perpetuitie) while they are building their nests of odours and spices, it may be more in contemplation of their grave, then their habitations; expecting not a permanencie, but a more glorious renascencie. And let no one think to justifie himself upon the en­gagement of his condition in this world, in point of his tena­citie and adherence to this life; since there is no temporal feli­citie allow'd by God to have this tempting qualitie of pro­mising the protraction of life. Wherefore, since no estate either disswades or debars us the meditation on death; let us in all estates interpose this cogitation of holy Job, Job 14.14. All the dayes in which I am now in warfare, I expect until my change do [Page 237] come; which will mediate a peace between the changes and differences of all conditions.t

The most miserable person sitting upon the earth, looking into it, as the common receptacle of all those that are in Palaces, as well as those that are unhous'd, may comfort himself with as easie a lodging there, as any he then envies; for that shining earth, which to day seems gold-ore, to morrow is mingled with coal dust; and no discern­ment to be made between the Prince's and the beggar's ashes. Methinks, enemies, who are alwayes digging one anothers graves, labour in this mean work, for want of looking down into the grave they are making; which view may shew them, that they are burying themselves in that earth they seek to open to cover their enemy; to whom every wound they wish or give, may be said to cast so much earth upon themselves, and such as will lye the heaviest on them in their own graves. And by this object, the contrary passion of sensual love may have its eyes open'd, by having the dust of a grave blown into it; so discovering the meannesse and vilitie of that matter, whereof it has so abusedly valued the fruition, the presence of death will quickly unblind these two so contra­ry passions.

If the figure of death were well form'd in the minds of the world, that of fortune (which is now so much in­censed by the fumes of several passions) would lose most of its votaries: The goods of death, which once given, are everlasting, would be much more sued for then those of fortune, which, if ever bestow'd, are never lasting. I have not more admir'd any conceit of a meer rationalist, then this complement of a Philosopher to death, who seem'd to value it so much above fortune, that he could not agree she should have any part in the disposing it; he could af­ford fortune the dispensing all the commodities of life, but no disposure of the benefits of death; when (as I may saie) he broke out in a mortal extasie, into this request to it.

That it would not deliver any mean unworthy person out of this life, and that death might not be found by chance, but only be conferr'd by vertue. This excellent strain of imagination savour'd of a soul that found it self imprison'd in this inclosure of flesh and bloud, and thought that infran­chisement the worthiest gift could be afforded it. But we Christians, from a higher principle, may tell him that we are possessed of his wish; for it is vertue only (not fortune or nature) that confers on us the benefits of death, since it is the death of the righteous only is pretious: that of others is but a double curse both to soul and body; for the death of a sinner is the worst of all things, being the end of all his delightfull sins, and the beginning of his endless punish­ment. But if the Philosophers courted death, only to take their life handsomly from them, which they accounted but a wearisom repetition of identitie (so far as to affirm that in this respect, not a brave and vertuous person only, but even a curious and a voluptuous, might out of delicacy and love of variety, desire to die: What a shame is it for Christians to fear death, whom it not only delivers from a laborious life, but transports into a glorious, joyfull, and eternal one? for so pretious in the sight of God, is the death of his servants, that they, not only rest from their labours, but are received into their masters rest.

But that which raises in us the terror of death, is the wa­vering and trepidation between the hope and fear of our sen­tence; which is consequent to our unreadiness for tryal: and this unpreparedness comes from our studying too much our titles and rights of life, little thinking on the evidences we must bring in at our death: for, how familiar is this strange unadvisedness in our youth, to be sollicitous in providing for our old age, whereof we are so uncertain; and not to prepare [Page 239] for death, whereof we are so much assured? knowing it is appointed that every one shall die, Heb. 9. and after that comes judg­ment

Such therefore as refer the preparation for death, to sickness or old-age (when their minds are taken up by nature in the de­fence of life) may be said to let their light go out, and begin to read by a coal, which they must blow continually to keep a­live: just such a work methinks those have, whose minds being most applied to the succour of their bodies, have likewise this other task, to purge and purifie themselvs. And besides the impertinency on our parts, the just disdain on Gods ought to terrifie us out of this inconsideration; which proposes to give God, not only the least, but even the worst of our time. O then, let all Christians be corrected in this mis-counting, by that ad­vice of the holy Spirit; Remain not in the error of the wicked; confess God before thy death; he humiliation of a dying man pe­risheth as nothing; Ecclus. 17.27. living and sound in health shalt thou make this confession of God and praise him and glory in his mercies.

There are few who assigne not some time for their prepara­tion, and that which they suppose sufficient for a happy end; let me only beseech then every one that affords any time to these Lines, not to relie upon a remote assignment; for, besides the danger of intercepting casualties, the presumption discredits much the purpose. Let them therefore allot some little por­tion of every day to the meditation of death; and they w [...]ll quickly feel that vulgar fear confuted, of being melancholy, over-pensive, and indispos'd for company: For certainly they will after some practise of this method, find such a return of peace, and settlement of spirit in all occurencies, that they'l confess all the time lost that was defer'd, it being so evident we can never begin too soon, nor studie that too much, which we can never come to trie whether we know it sufficiently. And those that are upon this inquest, sh [...]ll not find their natural death the sooner, yet make their eternal life the surer: where­as those who flie from this acquaintance with death, as from a spie, and betrayer of their t [...]mporal delights, are in great [Page 240] danger hereafter of seeking death, and not finding it.

And surely those who upon earth are so conversant with death, that their life is buried in God with Christ, at their egress out of this world, rather put off then put on their graves; for they enter into that immortal life, from which the earth that covered, separated them; since if the spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead, dwell in you, he that raised up Christ shall also quicken your mortal bodies, by his spirit that dwels in you. And by this manner of living, death; instead of being the sti­pend of sin, is made the pay-master of eternal life.

O with what a joyfull assurance may they welcome death, who have lived by the spirit of Christ? for if they can say to him, as he did to his father at his return out of this world; Jesus, I have glorified thee upon earth, I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do; They may likewise say, Now Jesus glorifie me with thy own self. This account of our lives shall certainly obtain this petition at our death. I will therefore close up this Remonstrance with this Christian Principle, All such as can say with S. Paul, They live but to Christ, may also say, They die but to gain.

SECT. I.
The sentence of the Reprobate.

WE have been long in our course, standing for this Port in another world. Our meditati­ons at first setting out, kept the Coast of this world; making our observations up­on the several aspects of divine Providence, referr'd to the whole earth: but our latter considerations have carried us far off from the Coast; Humilitie leaving us but such a remote sight of the shore, as look'd rather like clouds then land, (for a true humble spirit looks more like a part of heaven then earth) and the contemplation of death keeping still some gloomy sight of the world. Now we are arriv'd at eternitie; where we have lost all glimpse of this earth, and begin to make that new heaven and new earth, which our whole course is bound [Page 242] for: and the first making of this Port of Eternitie, is the arri­val at it, because in it there is no succession of time.

What Eternity is, may be much easilier conceiv'd then com­municated to another; as S. Augustine said of Time, We can tell our selves what it is, but if ask'd by another, we cannot pro­mise to tell him. But since our faith saves our reason that pains of seeking to comprehend it, I shall not need repeat many of those fine descriptions which have been made of it: we are satisfied to believe it, A beeing and duration everlasting; a new state of living, into which our souls, as soon as they depart out of our bodies, enter; expecting a re-union at the day of Judgment to live together thenceforward for ever. This belief of Eternitie is sufficient for the obligation of faith: we need not strain our understandings, to apprehend the difference between perpetual time and it, (conceiving this Aduration, without parts or suc­cession) it suffices, to form this conception of that Article of our faith, life everlasting.

Heb. 9.29. It is appointed (sayes the holy Spirit) to all men, once to dye; but after this, the judgment. This last clause of the sen­tence renders death universally terrible. For though dying only is bitter enough to those that have peace in their substances and wealths of this world; yet the Spirit tells us also that to the miser­able and afflicted, it is often welcome and acceptable: but this sequence of death, to be judg'd every one according to his works; this strikes some terror, not only into the most afflicted, but ev'n into the best affected to the next life; the most sancti­fied tremble at this indiction of the last judgment. Did not ev'n S. Paul (though he could accuse himself of nothing) sus­pend his opinion, because, He who was to judge him, was God? And does not the man after Gods own heart, (King David in the same contemplation say, My flesh trembleth for fear of thee, and I am afraid of thy judgments? If the great Monarch Xerxes, looking upon his Army of so many hundred thousand men, wept; in this consideration, that all that so glorious hoast of men, within a few years, was by death, to be reduc'd to ashes▪ how much astonish'd would he have been, if he had apprehend­ed [Page 243] that he, and all they, were to appear all naked and confus'd together at the tribunal of God, where he was to account for the casting away most of their lives; and that the sentence was to be no less then eternal torture? O how would this representation have deaded his pride, and abated his ambition!

We Christians can hardly think of death, separate from this concomitant Judgment, whereof we are to expect two: the first at the instant of the souls issuing out of the body, which passes immediately into a light, wherein the sentence is notifi'd to her in such an evidence as leaves neither doubt nor appeal. How this knowledg is imparted, whether by the natural pow­er of a soul separate, to discern the truth of all things it has been acquainted with; or by a special impression from its good Angel upon the understanding, is not material to determine: (for it is not probable that Christ in person is manifested to e­very judg'd soul, since we are told, that the heavens must receive him till the time of restitution of all things, which God hath spo­ken by the mouth of his holy prophets since the world began; Acts 3.21. and moreover, when he is to appear as a Judg, he is said to descend from heaven. Wherefore) the most probable is, that this sentence is discern'd by the self-inherent light of the soul, and notifi'd by the ministrie of an Angel: but as for the last and universal Judgment, there is no doubt concerning the manner of it, Christ himself having told us, We shall then see the son of man coming in the clouds of heaven with great glory. Matth. 24.30. And in this last sentence there is nothing alter'd in point of the finality of the Judgment; though some circumstances there are that exalt the joyes of the elect, and others that aggravate the pains of the reprobate, as the consequences of their good or ill actions, even after their death, viz. what operation their vertues or vices have had upon others, even to the end of the world, shall (respectively to their qualities) be set upon their several accounts, to afford them either glory or confusion; and this is one of the reasons given for the equity of this second judgment, that the recompence or punishment may be fully commensurate, to the whole sum of the deserts of the persons [Page 244] judged; as S. Paul saith, We must all appear before the judg­ment seat of Christ, 2 Cor. 5.10. that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or evil.

In the first Judgment there is one place more then in the se­cond, relating to temporary sentence; but this third place (whereof I have discours'd at large in a special Treatise) is but a passage, not a perpetuity of this station, which most souls make in their way to the heavenly Jerusalem: Some few Chri­stians there are, whose expiration we may call a respiration, a breathing back into the same breath of life, from whence they had their first emission; such are many holy Virgins in the Ca­tholick Church, who, like candid Tapers, burn out in a conse­crated flame before the Altar, insomuch that their flesh and blood may be said to be rather their continual oblation, then their own fruition; many of these pure spouses of the Lamb make an immediate effusion of their souls, into the bosome of their Spouse; so do all Martyrs who wash their flesh in their blood; to which the blood of the Lamb hath imparted that vertue, of taking all the stains out of the spotted garment of the flesh. And I am perswaded that all callings furnish some of those guests (even the high-waies, some) who have their wedding garment so clean upon them, that they need no chan­ges, nor be shifted by the way: But for the most part, our souls coming out of our bodies, are used as coming from a contagious place, that is, suspended some time in order to their purgation.

But we have passed the scene of time, and are at the station of Eternity, Wherefore let us hearken to the voice of the Trumpet, and turn our thoughts upon the last Judgment, sum­mon'd by the voice of, Rise ye dead and come unto judgment. Wc will first turn to the left hand, that we may close up at the right, and end the day with the benediction. To heighten the terror of this day, God will have it a secret to the Angels, and a surprize to the inhabitants of the earth, who shall be found eating and drinking, marrying and building, till the Sun in an [Page 245] instant shall with [...]raw his light, and the Moon shew only the bloody colours of the day;2 Pet. 3. when (as S. Peter saith) The day of the Lord shall come like a thief; in which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the Elements shall melt away with fervent heat; the earth also, and the works that are in it shall be burnt up. After this preparation, the whole material world be­ing offer'd as a holocaust to honour the appearing Judg, Christ Jesus; he shall manifest himself sitting in the clouds, as on his Tribunal, with unconceivable splendor and majestie; and all the sons of Adam shall be presented before him, their souls and bodies equally naked, not only to the Judg, but even to one another. Here shall be the accomplishment of our Judg­es prediction, There is nothing hidden that shall not be revealed. Mat. 10.26. And then the detection and manifestation of the secrets of hearts (which now-a-daies are sifted with so much curious perplexity) shall be one of the greatest terrors of that day, when each condemned person shall see his condemnation, even under his own hand; whereof it may be he writ a part while he was over-inquisitive upon the hearts of others, and too little intent upon his own. Here we shall see a fair unfolding and deplication of Gods providence in all the strange occurrences of humane e­vents, which our weak brains (grown dizzie by turning round in the enquirie of their causes, and finding none) call fortune: Here in an instant we shall be inform'd of what the wisest of men, Solomon, so much treated in his heart to understand, and yet could never comprehend; namely, why all things are reser­ved in uncertainty till the last day; Why all succeeds alike, to the just, and to the wicked; to him that offers victims, and to him that contemns sacrifice: Then we shall fully understand how all these discords compose the harmony of universal Providence; insomuch, that even that dolefull note of Go ye cursed, shall be by those very wretches 'tis set for, confest to be in tune to that irreproachable harmony of Gods order from all eternity, com­posed of their own following demerits.

At this dreadfull day, the blind Jew, who rent his garments when it was foretold him by this his Judg (whom he could [Page 246] not see while he was his prisoner) shall have his heart torn asun­der by his own blasphemy, and his eyes opened only to be cast into eternal darkness. Here shall the licentious and irreligious Christian see those wounds his Saviour took for him, all shut a­gainst him; and all those which his own sins and blasphemies have given him, opened against him to pronounce his sentence. And now the varnish'd hypocrite, and the vaporing Libertine, who seem'd so different, shall be coupled, and discern'd to have been both of one party, though they wore so different colours in their lives. The obscuring and darkning of the first's works, and the second's works of darkness were the same thing, al­waies in the sight of this all-seeing Judg.

O! how shall the voluptuous worldling, at this day, find all his senses rise up against him? even those he most sought to flatter and corrupt, shall prove his accusers and tormentors. Now the lascivious Lover (who hath, as S. Peter saith, his eyes fil'd with adultery and incessant crimes) shall have his eyes open'd, and perceive how blind he was, while he thought his soul to be in his eyes; he shall quickly be sent to the element of that fire, whereof the feigned [...]orch of his fantastick God, was a fire-brand, and be forced to confess, That for having so much abu­sed the fairness of natures light in beauty, as to raise foul flames out of it; he is justly condemn'd to such flames as consist with perpetual darkness, where his bosome-sin, after it is dead and rotten, shall turn into his hearts corroding worm that shall ne­ver die. O then! how foul a thing is sinfull man, even when he is in the full splendor of all his sensual fruitions; since his flesh is quickly to be resolv'd into dying vermin; and his spirit is forming in it self a worm, that shall alwayes gnaw upon it, and never die.

The justice of that day shall be so exactly compensative to the works of the judged, that the vindication of every sin shall not only be commensurate in quantity to the offence, but like­wise in quality be adjusted to it; as God destroyed the Aegyp­tians by those foul animals they had worship'd, so here the same unclean sensualities, to which every one hath sacrific'd, shall be [Page 247] their special tormentors; and the detestation of the same sins we have most delighted in,Rev. 18 shall be the wrack of every tortur'd conscience. As much as he has flow'd in delights, so much let him be wrung in torture, is the Commission given to the execu­tioners; and albeit some shall be beaten with more, and some with fewer stripes, as they have more or less known the will of their Master: yet every single sufferer shall have the cup of his anguish so full, that he shall conceive his own measure or misery, more press'd down and runing over, then any other; by which means the multitude of fellow-sufferers shall not afford the least extenuation by the common solace of societie.

Nay, when the pain of sense is straind up to the last extre­mity, the torture of the spirit shall yet exceed that, as much as the dignitie of it excels the other: and (which is most asto­nishing) this shall surely be, though the soul be but her own tormenter, and left to wrack himself whilst the Devils have the torturing of the body; for the anguish and repining at the privation of beatitude shall be a torment, the soul shall never think she can be cruel enough in enforcing: the spirit that knows the tenderest parts of it self, shall set the wrack to them of self-detesting, and always straining the sorrow of being depriv'd of that blessedness; the loss whereof it can ascribe now only to its own fault: and so what the damned acknow­ledge they might have been, shall be the greatest exasperation of what they are; by which means, God forceth the soul to do justice on her self, and render the pain of her privation transcend­ing that of the bodies passion. To all which we may add the perpetual increase of the actual torture, by the certain knowledg of the everlastingness of this condition.

Let the Libertines of this world look but fixedly upon this state; and then answer the question of the Prophet, Which of you can resolve to dwell with these eternal ardors? Oh that the bold Libertine wits of this age, (who make a jest and raillery of the menaces of this day, and upon their faith, familiarly try the edge of their fancie) would consider, they shall then have all those points of their imagination turn'd inward upon their [Page 248] conscience, and stuck upon them with an eternal compunctio [...] as the Apostle Jude tells us, Behold the Lord comes with thou­sands of his Saints, Iude 15 to execute judgment upon all their hard speeches▪ which the ungodly sinners have spoken against him. And let the voluptuous parasite of his own body, (who his affected his soul in this life, only to flatter and delight his flesh,) reflect upon this consequence of his sensualitie: that as his soul com­monly parts with his body, with much anguish and reluctancy; so at this day it shall be reunited to it, with much more horror and repugnancie, when they shall be both conjoin'd to heighten each others sufferings by this resociation.

How wonderful is it, that men who believe all this, should yet think less of this day of Judgment, then of any suit their passions solicite, or any trial of their interests in the Courts of this world: and yet how familiar is it to use the pious admoni­tions, referring to this subject, as Felix did S. Paul? when they come to terrifie us with the day of Judgment, (being mov'd and abash'd at them, as he was) we remit them to another fitter time: which we account more seasonable, when we are, as I may say, cast out of all the Courts of this world, and com­mitted to our beds, needing no stronger guards then our cur­tains to imprison us. When we are grown so deaf that we can hear no softer musick, then we propose the hearkning to the lowd trumpet of this day; and when we can scarce see any thing upon the earth, then we appoint our looking upward to see Christ Jesus comming in the clouds, in his glory; but alas, how many are cast into utter darkness, before that day they have presum'd to assign for their looking towards heaven? how justly did the holy Spirit complain, Ye sons of men, how long will ye be thus heavie hearted; why do you love but vanitie and seek after lies?

O let us then take Christ Jesus his counsel, while he was under the notion of our Solicitor upon earth, against that day he shall come to be our Judge,Luk 21 [...]5. Take heed to your selves lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with the cares of this life; and so that day come upon you unawares: for as a snare, shall it [Page 249] come on all those that dwell upon the face of the earth. Watch therefore, and pray alwayes, that you may be accounted worthy to escape all those things that shall come to pass, and to stand be­fore the Son of man.

SECT. II.
Of the sentence of the Elect.

LEt us now turn our faces to the right hand; that our ex­piring meditations may go off from the stage, looking up to Heaven: whither I beseech God they may lead all those minds, that have been pleas'd to keep them company in their travel through this world. On this side of the day we shall see nothing but light and Sun-shine, hear nothing but musick and melody: His splendor (who has put out the Sun) shall not dazel us; and his voice (which tears the Mountains) shall sing to the elect these joyful words, which shall with once pro­nouncing, leave them an eternal harmony,Mat. 25. Come ye blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the founda­tion of the world. O what an unconceivable joy will this be, to all those who hear this call into no less then their masters own joy and exultation; where securitie of its eternity is given in the highest instant of the fruition?

Now such as have been partakers of Christs Passions, and not taken their eyes off from him in such sufferings and disfigu­rings as love only could perswade the looking upon; shall see him, in such a dazling splendour as his love only could impart to them a capacitie of beholding: for the same brightness that has put out the Sun, shall by the rayes of love, infuse a power into his lovers, of looking familiarly with eyes wide open, upon those beams of glory which shine upon them: ev'n all the glory [Page 250] and majestie of the King of Heaven, which shall smile so friendly upon the blessed, that the familiaritie of it shall be one of the greatest wonders of the day; for not only an acquain­tance, but ev'n an obligation shall be own'd by the King of glo­ry; who shall acknowledge to have been fed, cloth'd, and vi­sited by those who have alwayes accounted themselves unpro­fitable s [...]vants: those, who all their lives, have been begging at his dore, with, Lord! I am not worthy thou shouldst come under my roof, shall now have the relief and succour of their King and Master attributed to them; and under the title of a debt, and as their right, be crown'd with their masters joys, becoming like him, by the act of looking on him.

O then let us remember, to what claims this kingdom is assign'd, viz. only to the titles of humilitie and charitie! There shall be many who will presume to challenge acquaintance that day with Christ, for having eaten and drunk with him, who shall be rejected as not known by him; but none of those for­got, who have given him meat and drink: without daring to think of it, they shall all be call'd and set at that table, where the Master of the Feast shall minister to them: and what shall be serv'd in at that service? no less then full satietie, to both these coveting faculties of the soul of man (which in this life are in­satiable) the Will and the Understanding; both which here shall be adequately satisfi'd with their respective objects. All those mysteries which in this life have been so obscure, that our faith could scarce find any light in them, shall now appear so lightsom, that their claritie shall be the object of our intelle­ctual beatitude; ev'n the glorious Trinitie shall be so far from dazling our intellect, that our souls shall look upon it as on a mirror, reflecting to them their own glory. Now Faith and Hope, (which have been the two great lights set in the spiritual firmament of this world, over our day and our night) shall be extinguish'd by perfect knowledge and consummate love: for then we shall know as we are known; and enjoy as much more then we could hope, as the soul can for the present, hope more then she can enjoy.

This is the day of accomplishment to Christs promise of rendring to every one, according to their works, the good measure and running over into their bosome. Each soul shall have such a plenitude, as shall require no addition: for though the mea­sures shall not be all alike, yet the fulness shall be equal, respect­ing every capacitie: so that there shall be as little want either of joy or glory, in the differently proportion'd souls, as there is of light in any of the lesser stars. The least Saint shall have an equality of proportion, though not of quantitie, ev'n with the glorious Virgin. And this commensurate distribution, shall be none of the least joyes, in adoration of the divine Justice, which so admirably provides this adequate compensation.

Nor, shall there be so much as any sense of the body left un­rewarded, respectively to the action it has been laid out in, or the suffering laid down in for Christ Jesus; who shall restore the bodies of his Saints so glorified, that they shall contribute, ev'n to Heaven, some accession of beatitude. And as all those wounds which so much darkned and dislustred the Lamb o [...] God, while he was offer'd upon earth, shall now become the most radiant and resplendent parts of his body: so shall all the scars and sicatrices of the Saints become as so many stars set in the firmament of their Now celestial bodies; which shall then differ in clarity and splendor, as they have here in candor and charitie.

The spotless Virgins who have contracted themselves to the immaculate Lamb, and liv'd as it were, divorc'd from their bo­dies, shall this day consummate their marriage; and having their happy bodies reunited to them, become those entire Pearls which make the gates of the heavenly Jerusalem: And the blessed Martyrs, who have laid down their flesh, and pour'd forth their blood, as the materials and ciment for the foundati­on and construction of this city militant, shall now have their bodies transform'd into those pretious stones, which garnish and adorn the walls of this triumphant Citie: If every drop of cold wat [...]r we have given out of the pure spring of charity, shall be converted into Pearls, whereof our crowns shall be compos'd; [Page 252] what an in estimable value will be set upon every drop of our bloud pour'd out under the Altar? where it lyes treasur'd up, till it be that day transform'd into some such glorious substance as shall be thought worthy to shine in the triumph of the blood of the Lamb of God: whose glory must certainly, then, as much transcend all other bodies, as the Martyrs immortal ones shall their own disfigur'd and deform'd ones here on earth; who as they parted chearfully with their bodies, shall have a proportionate joy and comfort in their re-assumption.

The fire of this day that shall consume and dissipate the rest of the material world, shall congregate and refine the golden ore, left in the dust of the Saints; and make of it that pure transpa­rent gold which shall pave the heavenly Jerusalem: Rev. 21 Mat. 12. insomuch that the just shall not only be as the Angels of God, in the b [...]ti­tude of their spirit, but besides, have an incomprehensible glory, in each of their bodies; which shall by mutual irradiations, re­flect to one another light and splendor unexpressable; making in a disparitie of glory, a communitie of joy: for each one shall enter into his fellows, as well as his Masters joyes. This torrent of pleasure which is promis'd, shall not only flow from the highest parts of heaven to the lowest, but run back again up­ward too, in a perpetual reflux: for ev'n the lowest ranke in this kingdom, both receives and retributes some joy to the su­premest: whereupon the Psalmist sayes, Hierusalem ut civitas cujus participatio ejus in idipsam. We may therefore justly be­lieve more then we can conceive, that the Saints shall be inebri­ated by the overflowing of that house of God, drinking of the torrent of those delights.

When the Lord of life, and King of this heavenly City, made his first entrie into it, after his triumph over death; he opened but one of the leaves of the great Gate; to let in souls, only for the solemnitie of that day, when the Patriarchs and Prophets waited on him in this triumphant return: and there is but that half left open as yet; for admission of only souls, till his return from his second issuing into the clouds, but then the gate shall be set wide open, for the reception of bodies also; which shall [Page 253] be so dispos'd and suited for the triumph of the day, and the dignitie of the place, that they shall confer some glory, as well as contract perfect beatitude by their admission. And after this great entry, the gates shall be shut to all eternitie; and so close, that not so much as a wish shall ever get out, or into it again: O then how unconceivably blessed or accursed is the admission or exclusion of this unalterable instant!

The perfect state of this beatitude is so little to be repre­sented in words, that ev'n our imagination is more dazled in the aspect of it, then our eye is by a fixure upon the Sun: and sure­ly our most transcendent conceptions make but a such a draught of it, as Painters can of the Sun; who when they have us'd strokes of gold to make the brightest radiancie they can, we see how weak and faint a shadow, rather then an Image, they repre­sent of its beams: so when our fancies have summ'd up and subli­mated all the most glorious and celestial notions they can col­lect, as an idea of the beatitude of heaven; we may conclude, there is yet more disparitie between the realitie and our repre­sentation, then between the natural and the painted Sun. S. John the Evangelist, when he came to put this figure, as I may say, into colours; that is, into such notions as we can sensibly ap­prehend, he drew it by Diamonds, Pearls, and Gold, the most precious materials he could find; which was but to carry our apprehensions to the highest pitch of estimation they can reach; that is, speaking to our senses, as it were, in their own language. And S. Paul sets the same figure before us vail'd, without any sensible delineation; but transcending all our notions by way of negative, saying, What the eye hath not seen, nor the ear heard, nor can come into the heart of man, is that which God hath prepared for those that love him. And surely, what S. Denys sayes, (treating of the names of God) holds very well, referr'd to heaven, viz. that God is better express'd by ne­gatives, then by affirmatives; that is, by saying He is infi­nite, immense, incomprehensible, and the like, then by any po­sitive attribute; which affirms him to be somewhat we can conceive: so undoubtedly, the joyes of heaven are better de­scrib'd, [Page 254] by denying them to be so small or limitted as any we can apprehend, then by any positive affirmation of what they are. For an image of the beauty and beatitude of the Saints is so impossible to be well pourtraicted, that after the most sublime notions which the whole world has deliver'd of it, though our understanding had a clear impression of them all, yet when we come into the sight and presence of the original, we shall not know it by any species we have conceiv'd of it: no, the forgetting rather of all we have ever imagin'd, is the com­prehension and fruition of this beatitude.

Notwithstanding this, the uses of these spiritual images, which Divines form of the joyes of heaven, are very great: for as they say of material Images in Churches, they are the books of the illiterate, and the remembrancers of the most learned; so, the grosser sort of apprehensions may, as it were, read their hopes in these lines or characters of heaven; and the most illuminated may, by these representations, refresh their hopes and enliven their faith. Wherefore the meditation on the images of our propos'd felicitie in heaven, is much to be recommended; in order to instructing the vulgar apprehen­sions, and inflaming the most clear sighted spirits.

For as those, who are mounted up above the flat parts of the earth, to the greatest elevations, which mountains, towers, or pinacles can raise them to; though when they look upward to the skie, they find not the celestial bodies of the Planets appearing bigger and nearer their true magnitudes; yet when they look down upon the terrestrial bodies, they see them seeming much lessened and diminish'd: so they, who have their minds elevated in the contemplation of heavenly beati­tude; albeit they come not near the discerning the real great­ness and immensitie of that supreme object; yet having their minds seated in this elevation, when they look downward up­on all earthly delights, they all appear so much contracted and diminish'd, that they scarce seem the same things, as when their minds grovel'd upon the same level with them, thinking on, and pursuing nothing but earthly satisfactions. [Page 255] This is therefore the great benefit of our speculations upon hea­ven; not so much to possess our minds of the full worth and value of it, as to dispossess them of the false accompt and esti­mation of all worldly cupidities.

This consequence should, methinks, be sufficient, to at­tract our thoughts frequently upward to the orb of our cele­stial promises. For though our meditations cannot pene­trate into the rayes of glory, yet looking down from that station, they clearly discover the base matter and compo­sition of all our terrestrial fruitions. And by this means all the glittering vanities of this world will become like glo-worms in the Sun: for what in the obscurity of our passions shin'd and sparkled, without any evidence of the matter, whereof it was compos'd, will in that light of meditation, appear all filth and worm-eaten, without any bright­ness.

And on the contrary, all our sufferings and pressures, which (while we look not out of this world) seem so dark and disconsolate; brought once into these divine rayes of that future glory they promise, they'l become lightsome and transparent, looking through this Prospective of the Apostle, Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a farr more exceeding weight of glory. And surely, they whose conversation is in Heaven (as the Apostle sayes) may not only bear sweetly all the asperities of this life, but also reject all the specious allurements of their cor­poral eyes: with this dis-regard, We contemplate not things visi­ble: for all that is to be seen is transitory; and what is not to be seen, is eternal.

Moreover, this contemplation of Eternitie, will certainly produce a just valuation of our time: in order whereunto, let me leave with you this admirable conception of S. Teresa, in the view of both these states, O how short is the longest life, considered as it is assign'd to the purchase of eternal happiness; and how long is the shortest hour, in regard of the liableness to forfeit this felicitie?

This short reflection comprises both the duties and dangers of our lives; how much we should covet, and how carefully intend the securing this happy Eternitie. To which center I have drawn all the lines of this book: which I beseech God may find themselves weigh'd and measur'd by man, as they wil be by God; not as they delight the Reader, running through his fancie, but as they direct him, staying in his will, and guid­ing him to the end of his creation, everlasting happiness. Which as it is to be no less then a similitude with the divine nature, so it requires no less then our assimulation in this life to the Son of God: for the beloved Apostle supposes that qualification▪ when he exposes this exaltation, saying, We are now the sons of God, 1 Joh. 3.2. but yet it is not made manifest what we shall be; we know when he shall appear, we shall be made like him: and every one that hath this hope, sanctifieth himself as he is sanctified.

Having brought you hither, I may civilly leave you; and desire all such as are mov'd with an aspiring love to this heaven­ly abode, to assign some little part of every day to the contem­plation of it, and the way to it; dismissing all earthly diversi­ons with this answer, Our conversation is in heaven, from whence we look for our Lord Jesus Christ: Phil. 3.20. who shall change our vile bodie, and fashion it like his glorious body, by that power whereby he is able to subdue all things to himself. And to all such as use faithfully this application of their souls, I may safely promise, from his mouth to whom the keyes of this Kingdome were given,2 Pet. 1.11. If you use this diligence to make your election sure; the entrance shall be ministred to you abun­dantly, into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.