AN ELEGANT And Learned DISCOURSE Of the Light of Nature, With several other TREATISES: Viz. The Schism. The Act of Oblivion. The Child's Return. The Panting Soul. Mount Ebal. The White Stone. Spiritual Optics. The Worth of Souls.  
By NATHANAEL CULVERWEL, Master of Arts, and lately Fellow of EMANUEL College in CAMBRIDGE.  
Imprimatur, EDM. CALAMY.  
London, Printed by T. R. and E. M. for John Rothwell at the Sun and Fountain in Paul's Churchyard. 1652.   

To the Reverend and Learned ANTHONY TUCKNEY D. D. Master of Emmanuel College IN CAMBRIDGE, And to the Fellows of that Religious and happy Foundation.  
Honoured Sirs,  
THe many testimonies of your real affection towards this pious and learned Author, (especially while he lay under the discipline of so sad a Providence) deserve all thankful acknowledgement, and grateful commemoration: which I doubt not but himself would have made in most ample manner, had it pleased God to have granted him longer life, and farther opportunity. But since Divine Providence hath otherways disposed; I thought it no solecism in friendship to undertake the Executorship of his desires, and so far to own his debt of gratitude, as to endeavour some Public acknowledgement of it, though the greatness of your benefits admit not of just reompence and satisfaction. Having therefore the disposal of his papers committed to me by his nearest and dearest friends, and finding them to be of such worth and excellency as ought not to be smothered in obscurity; I interpreted this a fit opportunity to let both yourselves and others understand, how deep an impression your kindness to him hath left in the apprehensions and memories of those his friends, whom God and Nature had given the advantage of being more peculiarly interessed in his welfare. Upon which account I do here present you with this Elegant issue of his noble and gallant abilities; which, besides the relation it hath to you by the Father's side, would gladly entitle itself unto your acceptance and protection, as having been conceived in your College, and delivered in your Chapel; and therefore hopes that you, who with much delight were sometimes ear- witness of it, will now become its Susceptours.  
And thus having lodged it in its Mother's arms, I leave it to her embraces. On whose behalf I shall only offer up this serious and hearty wish; That as, by the blessing of heaven upon her fruitful womb, she hath been made a Mother of many profitable instruments both in Church and Commonwealth: so God would be pleased to make good her name unto her, and delight still to use her as the handmaid-instrument of his glory; that he would lay her topstone in his blessing, as her foundation was laid in his fear.  
So prays 
 The meanest of her sons, 
 and 
 Your humble servant 
 WILLIAM DILLINGHAM. Aug. 10. 1652.   

TO THE READER.  
COURTEOUS READER;  
NOt many months have passed since I sent abroad into the world a little Treatise, which knew itself by the name of Spiritual Optics, with intention only to make some discovery of the minds and affections of men towards pieces of that Nature; which having met somewhere (it seems) with kind enentertainment, and acceptance beyond its expectation; hath now persuaded all its fellows into a resolution to take wing, and adventure themselves upon thy candour and ingenuity. I intent not here to hang out Ivy; nor with my Canvas to preface this cloth of gold. The work is weaved of Sunne-beams, to hang any thing before it, were but to obscure it; yet something here must needs be said for mine own discharge, and thy better satisfaction. Know therefore, (gentle Reader) that these pieces were first intended as Scholastic Exercises in a Colledge-Chappel, and therefore more properly suited to such an Auditory; yet I make no question but some of them, the White Stone especially, may be read with much profit, by those who are of meaner capacities, and less refined intellectuals. The Discourse of the Light of Nature (which, though here it bear the torch before the rest, is younger brother to them all) was written above six years ago; the design of it was, as on the one hand to vindicate the use of Reason in matters of Religion from the aspersions and prejudices of some weaker ones in those times, who, having entertained erroneous opinions, which they were no way able to defend, were taught by their more cunning seducers to wink hard, and except against all offensive weapons: so on the other hand to chastise the sauciness of Socinus and his followers, who dare set Hagar above her Mistress, and make Faith wait at the elbow of corrupt & distorted Reason; to take off the head of that uncircumcised Philistim with his own sword, but better sharpened; and then to lay it up behind the Ephod in the Sanctuary. An enterprise I confess, of no small import; which yet he hoped, with God's assistance, to have effected by giving unto Reason the things that are Reasons, and unto Faith the things that are Faiths. And had the world been favoured with his longer life, the height of his parts, and the earnest he gave, had bespoken very ample expectations in those who knew and heard him: But it pleased God (having first melted him with his love, and then chastised him, though somewhat sharply) to take him to himself; from the contemplation of the Light of Nature, to the enjoyment of one supernatural, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Light inaccessible, which none can see and live; and to translate him from snuffing a Candle here, to be made partaker of the inheritance of the Saints in Light. So that all he finished towards that undertaking was this Discourse of the Light of Nature in general, not descending so low as to show how the Moral Law was founded in it, or that Gospel-revelation doth not extinguish it. Wherein, if, standing in the midst between two adversaries of extreme persuasions, while he opposes the one, he seem to favour the other more than is meet; when thou shalt observe him at another time to declare as much against the other, thou wilt then be of another mind. Judge candidly, and take his opinion, as thou wouldst do his picture, sitting; not from a luxuriant expression (wherein he always allowed for the shrinking) but from his declared judgement, when he speaks professedly of such a subject. For instance, if any expression seem to lift Reason up too high; you may, if you please, otherwhere hear it confess and bewail its own weakness; [chap. 12.] you may see it bow the head and worship, and then lay itself down quietly at the feet of Faith; [chap. 18.] So that if thou read but the whole discourse, thou wilt easily perceive (as himself would often affirm) that he abhorred the very thought of advancing the power of Nature into the throne of Freegrace, or by the light of Nature in the least measure to eclipse that of Faith.  
I would not willingly by any Prolepsis forestall thy reading, yet if thou shouldst desire a foretaste of the Authors stile, I would turn thee to the beginning of the seventeenth chapter; never was light so bespangled; never did it triumph in greater bravery of expression. But I detain thee too long. Let this suffice thee as a course List to a finer Webb; or as waste paper to defend this Book from the injury of its covers.  
Farewell. Cambr. Aug. 10. 1652.   

The Discourse of the Light of Nature contains  

CHap. 1. The Porch, or Introduction page 1  
Chap. 2. The explication of the words p. 9  
Chap. 3. What Nature is p. 14  
Chap. 4. Of the nature of a Law in general p. 20  
Chap. 5. Of the Eternal Law p. 28  
Chap. 6. Of the Law of Nature in general, its 

Subject  
Nature   p. 34  
Chap. 7. The extent of the Law of Nature p. 54  
Chap. 8. How the Law of Nature is discovered? not by tradition p. 62  
Chap. 9 The Light of Reason p. 68  
Chap. 10. Of the consent of Nations p. 77  
Chap. 11. The Light of Reason is a derivative Light p. 87  
Chap. 12. The Light of Reason is a diminutive Light p. 122  
Chap. 13. The Light of Reason discovers present, not future things p. 131  
Chap. 14. The Light of Reason is a certain Light p. 141  
Chap. 15. The Light of Reason is directive p. 154  
Chap. 16. The Light of Reason is calm and peaceable p. 166  
Chap, 17. The Light of Reason is a pleasant Light p. 175  
Chap. 18. The Light of Reason is an ascendent Light p. 198    

The most material escapes of the Impression, be pleased (Reader) thus to amend.  
PAge 6. line 16. for there that read their, p 10. l 14. for to r. into, p 13. l. 22. for Sooth. worth r. somewhat worth, p. 25 l. 21. for is r. it is, p. 33. l. 19 for primae practicae r. prima practica, p. 48. l. 21. for where r. whence, p 62. l. 3. nor an intellectus ●gens deal, p. 68 l. 22. for Evangelistical r. Evangelical, p. 70. l. 14. for its r. their, p. 71. l. 29. Antonius r. Antoninus, p. 92 l. 16. many r. any, p. 93. l. 7. him a r. him in a, p. 107. l. 20. should r. sold, p 128 l. 31. this r. his, p. 132 l. 23. & per r. & non per, p. 137. l. 16. these r. those, p. 140. l. 24. Jurispositorum r. Jurisperitorum, p. 145. l. 16 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, p. 147. ult. theirs r. this, p. 154. l. 17. certainly r. certainty, p 157. l. 21. r. them as Gods, p. 16●. l. 20. r. judice, p. 165. l. 9 the r. that, p. 166. l. 26. persecutions r. prosecutions, p. 178. l. 31. choyest r. choicer, p. 194. l 34 be r. not be, p. 202. l. 8. is r. if, p. 210 l. 22. maintenency r. manu-tenncy.  
P. 1. l. 20. casus r. caput, 3. 1. r. omrtality r. morality, 5. 23. r. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, so the Scholiast, 8. ult. his r. its, 10. 13. painted r. pointed, 18. in marg. Fox deal, 22, 2. have deal, 47. 17. to not r. not to, 48. 3. them r. him, 54. 3 not only r. only, ibid. l. 15. ●re r. were, 66. 4. Polltitian r. Politian, ibid. l. 31. historistia r. historia, 77. 25. deglutiemur r. deglutiemus, 123. 17. with r. what, 127. 36. brim then r. brim, then was the, 129. 37. examination r. exinanition, 150. 14. and then deal.  
The rest, I hope, will not disturb the sense.   

Courteous READER.  
THis Discourse, which had my Brother for the Author; might justly have expected me to have been the publisher: And I should think myself inexcusable, in this particular, did not the remote distance of my present abode, and the frequent avocations from study, by attendance upon my Ministry, together with the ruins of a crazy body, somewhat apologise in my behalf.  
That is obvious and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in every man's mouth, that the Brother should raise up seed to the Brother; but here, lo a friend that is nearer than a brother, who rears up this living monument, to the memory of his deceased friend.  
In this Treatise we may perceive, how the Gentiles Candle outwent us with our Sunbeams: How they guided only by the glimmering twilight of Nature, outstripped us who are surrounded with the rays of Supernatural light, of revealed truth. Thou may'st here find Plato to be a Moses Atticissans, and Aratus, Menander, and Epimenides called into the Court, to bring in their suffrages to Saint Paul's Doctrine.  
Here we may find Reason like a Gibeonite hewing wood, and drawing water for the Sanctuary: Jethro giving counsel to Moses. God draws us with the cords of a man; he drew professed Stargazers with a Star to Christ. Galen a Physician was wrought upon, by some anatomical observations to tune an hymn to the praise of his Creator, though otherwise Atheist enough.  
Reason though not permitted (with an overdaring Pompey) to rush into the Holy of Holies, yet may be allowed to be a Proselyte of the gate, and with those devote Greeks, to worship in the Court of the Gentiles.  
Natural Light, or the Law written in the heart, emproved by that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which is written in the book of the creature in capital letters, so that he that runs may read, is that which this Treatise bears witness to; where these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, those heaven-borne-lights are set up in the soul of man, like those twin flames on the Mariners shroud, they presage a happy voyage to the fair Havens.  
As for the bosome-secrets of God, Gospel-mysteries, the Mercy-seat itself into which the Angels desire 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Reason's plum-line will prove too short to fathom them; here we must cry with the Apostle 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉! Reason may not come into these Seas, except she strike her topsail; here we may say with Aristotle, at the brink of Euripus, not being able to give an account of the ebbs and flows, If I can't comprehend thee, thou shalt me.  
It is storied of Democritus, that he put out his eyes that he might contemplate the better: I do not counsel you to do so; but if you would wink with one, the eye of Reason (captivate every thought to the obedience of Christ) you might with that other of Faith, take the better aim at the mark, to obtain the price of the high calling in Jesus Christ.  
Possibly an expression or two (more there are not) may seem to speak too much in Reason's behalf; but if well examined, will prove nothing to the prejudice of free Grace: The whole scope of the book endeavouring to fill those landmarks and just bounds betwixt Religion, and Reason, which some (too superciliously brow-beating the handmaid, and others too much magnifying her) have removed.  
These exercises suit well with the place where, and the auditors to whom they were delivered, but like Aristotle's 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 these are not for vulgar ears; These Lucubrations are so elaborate, that they smell of the Lamp, The Candle of the Lord.  
As concerning the Author of this Treatise, how great his parts were, and how well improved (as it may appear by this work) so they were fully known, and the loss of them sufficiently bewailed by those among whom he lived and conversed; and yet I must say of him 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: And as it is hard for men to be under affliction, but they are liable to censures, Luke 13. 2, 4. so it fared with him, who was looked upon by some, as one whose eyes were lofty, and whose eyelids lifted up; who bore himself too high upon a conceit of his parts (although they that knew him intimately, are most willing to be his compurgatours in this particular.) Thus prone are we to think the staff under the water crooked, though we know it to be strait: However, turn thine eyes inward, and censure not thine own fault so severely in others. Cast not the first stone, except thou find thyself without this fault: dare not to search too curiously into 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of God; But rather learn that lesson of the Apostles in that elegant Paranomasia, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Rom. 12. v. 3.  
Thus not willing longer to detain thee from the perusal of this Discourse; I commend both thee and it to the blessing of God, and rest  
Thine to serve thee in any spiritual work, or labour of love, RICH. CULVERWEL. From my study at Grundisburgh in the County of Suffolk. August, 18. 1652.   

A DISCOURSE Of the LIGHT of NATURE.  PROVERES 20. 27. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Mens hominis lucerna Domini, The understanding of a man is the Candle of the Lord.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Septuag. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Aqu. Symm. Theod. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Sic alii. 

CHAP. I.  
The Porch or Introduction.  
'tIs a work that requires our choicest thoughts, the exactest discussion that can be; a thing very material and desirable, to give unto Reason the things that are Reasons, and unto Faith the things that are Faiths; to give Faith her full scope and latitude, and to give Reason also her just bounds and limits; this is the firstborn, but the other has the blessing. And yet there is not such a vast hiatus neither, such a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 between them as some would imagine: there is no such implacable antipathy, no such irreconcilable jarring between them, as some do fancy to themselves; they may very well salute one another, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, osculo Pacis; Reason and Faith may kiss each other. There is a twinlight springing from both, and they both spring from the same fountain of light, and they both sweetly conspire in the same end, the glory of that being from which they shine, & the welfare & happiness of that being upon which they shine. So that to blaspheme Reason, 'tis to reproach heaven itself, and to dishonour the God of Reason, to question the beauty of his Image, and by a strange ingratitude to slight this great and Royal gift of our Creator. For 'tis he that set up these two great Luminaries in every heavenly soul, the Sun to rule the day, and the Moon to rule the night; and though there be some kind of creatures that will bark at this lesser light, and others so severely critical, as that they make mountains of those spots and freckles which they see in her face; yet others know how to be thankful for her weaker beams, and will follow the least light of Gods setting up, though it be but the Candle of the Lord.  
But some are so strangely prejudiced against Reason, and that upon sufficient reason too (as they think) which yet involves a flat contradiction, as that they look upon it not as the Candle of the Lord, but as on some blazing Comet that portends present ruin to the Church, and to the soul, and carries a fatal and venomous influence along with it. And because the unruly head of Socinus and his followers by their mere pretences to Reason, have made shipwreck of Faith, and have been very injurious to the Gospel; therefore these weak and staggering apprehensions, are afraid of understanding any thing, and think that the very name of Reason, especially in a Pulpit, in matters of Religion, must needs have at least a thousand heresies couched in it. If you do but offer to make a Syllogism, they'll straight way cry it down for carnal reasoning. What would these men have? Would they be banished from their own essences? Would they forfeit and renounce their understandings? Or have they any to forfeit or disclaim? would they put out this Candle of the Lord, intellectuals of his own lighting? or have they any to put out? would they creep into some lower species, and go a grazing with Nebuchadnezar among the beasts of the field? or are they not there already? Or if they themselves can be willing to be so shamefully degraded, do they think that all others too are bound to follow their example? Oh, what hard thoughts have these of Religion? do they look upon it only as on a bird of prey, that comes to peck out the eyes of men? Is this all the nobility that it gives, that men by virtue of it must be beheaded presently? does it chop off the intellectuals at one blow? Le's hear awhile what are the offences of Reason; are they so heinous and capital? what has it done? what laws has it violated? whose commands has it broken? what did it ever do against the crown and dignity of heaven, or against the peace and tranquillity of men? Why are a weak and perverse generation, so angry and displeased with it? Is it because this daughter of the morning is fallen from her primitive glory? from her original vigour and perfection? Far be it from me to extenuate that great and fatal overthrow, which the sons of men had in their first and original apostasy from their God; that under which the whole Creation sighs and groans: but this we are sure, it did not annihilate the soul, it did not destroy the essence, the powers and faculties, nor the operations of the soul; though it did defile them, and disorder them, and every way indispose them.  
Well then, because the eye of Reason is weakened, and vitiated, will they therefore pluck it out immediately? and must Leah be hated upon no other account, but because she is blear-eyed? The whole head is wounded, and aches, and is there no other way but to cut it off? The Candle of the Lord does not shine so clearly as it was wont, must it therefore be extinguished presently? is it not better to enjoy the faint and languishing light of this Candle of the Lord, rather than to be in palpable and disconsolate darkness? There are indeed but a few seminal sparks left in the ashes, and must there be whole floods of water cast on them to quench them? 'Tis but an old imperfect Manuscript, with some broken periods, some letters worn out, must they therefore with an unmerciful indignation rend it and tear it asunder? 'Tis granted that the picture has lost its gloss and beauty, the oriency of its colours, the elegancy of its lineaments, the comeliness of its proportion; must it therefore be totally defaced? must it be made one great blot? and must the very frame of it be broken in pieces? Would you persuade the Lutanist to cut all his strings in sunder, because they are out of tune? and will you break the Bow upon no other account, but because it's unbended? because men have not so much of Reason as they should, will they therefore resolve to have none at all? will you throw away your gold, because it's mixed with dross? Thy very being that's imperfect too, thy graces, they are imperfect, wilt thou refuse these also? And then consider, that the very apprehending the weakness of Reason, even this in some measure comes from Reason. Reason, when awakened, it feels her own wounds, it hears her own jarrings, she sees the dimness of her own sight. 'Tis a glass that discovers its own spots, and must it therefore be broke in pieces? Reason herself has made many sad complaints unto you; she has told you often, and that with tears in her eyes, what a great shipwreck she has suffered, what goods she has lost, how hardly she escaped with a poor decayed being; she has shown you often some broken relics as the sad remembrancers of her former ruins; she told you how that when she swum for her life, she had nothing but two or three Jewels about her, two or three common notions; and would you rob her of them also? is this all your tenderness and compassion? Is this your kindness to your friend? will you trample upon her now she is so low? Is this a sufficient cause to give her a Bill of divorcement, because she has lost her former beauty and fruitfulness?  
Or is Reason thus offensive to them, because she cannot grasp and comprehend the things of God? Vain men, will they pluck out their eyes because they cannot look upon the Sun in his brightness and glory? What though Reason cannot reach to the depths, to the bottoms of the Ocean, may it not therefore swim and hold up the head as well as it can? What though it cannot enter into the Sanctum Sanctorum, and pierce within the Veil; may it not notwithstanding lie in the Porch, at the gate of the Temple called beautiful, and be a doorkeeper in the house of its God? It's wings are clipped indeed, it cannot fly so high as it might have done, it cannot fly so swiftly, so strongly as once it could, will they not therefore allow it to move, to stir, to flutter up and down as well as it can? the turrets and pinnacles of the stately structure are fallen, will they therefore demolish the whole fabric, and shake the very foundations of it? and down with it to the ground? though it be not a jacob's ladder to climb up to heaven by, yet may they not use it as a staff to walk upon earth withal? and then Reason itself knows this also and acknowledges, that 'tis dazzled with the Majesty and glory of God; that it cannot pierce into his mysterious and unsearchable ways; it never was so vain as to go about to measure immensity by its own finite Compass, or to span out absolute eternity by its own more imperfect duration. True Reason did never go about to comprise the Bible in its own Nutshell. And if Reason be content with its own sphere, why should it not have the liberty of its proper motion?  
Is it because it opposes the things of God, and wrangles against the mysteries of salvation, is it therefore excluded? An heinous and frequent accusation indeed, but nothing more false and injurious; and if it had been an open enemy that had done her this wrong, why then she could have born it; but it's thou her friend and companion, ye have took sweet counsel together, and have entered into the house of God as friends, 'tis you that have your dependence upon her; that cannot speak one word to purpose against her, without her help and assistance. What mean you thus to revile your most intimate and inseparable self? why do you thus slander your own beings? would you have all this to be true which you say? Name but the time if you can, when ever right Reason did oppose one jot or apex of the word of God. Certainly, these men speak of distorted Reason all this while. Surely they do not speak of the Candle of the Lord, but of some shadow and appearance of it. But if they tell us that all Reason is distorted, whether then is theirs so, in telling us so? if they say that they do not know this by Reason, but by the Word of God; whether then is there 〈◊〉 Reason, when it acknowledges the Word of God? whether is it then distorted, or no? Besides, if there were no right Reason in the world, what difference between sobriety and madness, between these men and wiser ones? how then were the heathen left without excuse, who had nothing to see by but this Candle of the Lord? and how does this thrust men below sensitive creatures, for better have no Reason at all, than such as does perpetually deceive them, and delude them.  
Or does Reason thus displease them, because the blackest Errors sometimes come under the fair disguise of so beautiful a name, and have some tincture of Reason in them? But truly this is so far from being a disparagement to Reason, as that 'tis no small commendation of it, for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Men love to put a plausible title, a winning frontispiece upon the foulest Errors. Thus licentiousness would fain be called by the name of liberty, and all dissoluteness would fain be countenanced and secured under the Patronage and protection of freegrace. Thus wickedness would willingly forget its own name, and adopt itself into the family of goodness. Thus Arminianism pleads for itself under the specious notion of God's love to mankind. Thus that silly Error of Antinomianisme will needs style itself an Evangelical Honeycomb. Thus all irregularities and anomalies in Church affairs must pride themselves in those glittering titles of a New Light, A Gospel way, An Heaven upon Earth. No wonder then that some also pretend to Reason, who yet run out of it, and beyond it, and besides it; but must none therefore come near it? because Socinus has burnt his wings at this Candle of the Lord, must none therefore make use of it?  
May he not be conquered with his own weapons, and beat out of his own strong holds? and may not the head of an uncircumcised Philistine be cut off with his own sword?  
Or lastly, are they thus afraid of Reason, because by virtue of this, men of wit and subtlety will presently argue and dispute them into an Error, so as that they shall not be able to disentangle a truth, though in itself it be never so plain and unquestionable? But first, Reason itself tells them that it may be thus, and so prepares and fortifies them against such a trial; and then, this only shows that some men's Reason is not so well advanced and improved, either as it might be, or as others is; a sharper edge would quickly cut such difficulties asunder. Some have more refined and clarified intellectuals, more vigorous and sparkling eyes than others, and one soul differs from another in glory; and that reason which can make some shift to maintain Error, might with a great deal less sweat and pains maintain a truth.  
There's no question but that Bellarmin, and the rest of the learned Papists could have if they had pleased, far more easily defended the Protestant Religion then that of their own. Besides, the vigour and triumph of Reason is principally to be seen in those firstborn beams, those pure and unspotted irradiations that shine from it; I mean those first bubblings up of common principles that are owned and acknowledged by all; and those evident, and kindly derivations that flow from them. Reason shows her face more amiably and pleasantly in a pure and clear stream, then in those mudded and troubled waters, in which the Schoolmen (that have leisure enough) are always fishing. Nay, some of their works are like so many raging seas, full of perpetual toss, and disquietings, and foamings, and sometimes casting up mire and dirt; and yet these vast and voluminous Leviathans love to sport therein, and that which is most intolerable, these grand 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that seemed so zealous for Reason, at length in express terms disclaim it; and in a most blindfold and confused manner, cry up their great Diana, their Idol of Transubstantiation; and the Lutherans are very fierce against Reason too, much upon the same account, because it would never allow of that other monstrous and misshapen lump of Consubstantiation.  
But why have I all this while beaten the air, and spilt words upon the ground? why do I speak to such as are incurable and incapable? for if we speak Reason to them, that's that which they so much disclaim: if we do not speak Reason to them that were to disclaim it too.  
But I speak to men, to Christians, to the friends of learning, to the professors of Reason: to such as put this Candle of the Lord into a golden Candlestick, and pour continual Oil into it. Yet lest any among you Athenians, should erect an Altar to an unknown God; lest you should ignorantly worship him, we will declare him to you.  
And that which we have now said may serve as a Porch and preamble, to what we shall speak hereafter out of these words.  
Where we shall see  
1) How The understanding of a man is the Candle of the Lord.  
2) What this Candle of the Lord discovers; where we shall find  
1) That all the Moral Law is founded in natural and common light, in the light of Reason.  
2) That there's nothing in the mysteries of the Gospel contrary to the light of Reason; nothing repugnant to this light that shines from the Candle of the Lord.   

CHAP. II.  
The Explication of the words.  
NOw as for the words themselves, we cannot better judge of the fitness of this expression, then by considering who it was that spoke it.  
Now these words were spoke by him that had a large portion of intellectuals, one that was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they were spoken by Solomon in whom the Candle of the Lord did shine very clearly; one that had asked this as the choicest favour that he could expect from the bounty of heaven; to have a glorious lamp of knowledge shine in his soul for the enlightening of it. And though the envious Jews would fain persuade the world that he lighted his candle at hell itself, for they esteemed him no better than a Magician; as they esteemed him also that was greater than Solomon; yet we know very well, that solomon's was a purer Candle then to be lighted at a Lake of fire and brimstone; 'twas not of Lucifer's setting up, but it came from the Father of lights, 'twas lighted with Sunbeams from heaven.  
And 'tis a modest and humble expression in him to call his understanding the Candle of the Lord, when as the world looked upon him as a star of the first magnitude, nay as a Sun shining in the firmament, gild the world with knowledge, scattering beams of light, sparkling out in wise and proverbial sayings, so that the bordering Princes and Nations are ready to adore such an orient light; and the Queen of the South thinks it no small happiness to sit under the shadow of it. But yet to be sensible of his own narrow sphere, of his own finite compass and influence, did not at all take from his lustre, but did rather set it off, and add to his glory.  
Thus that wise man among the Heathen Socrates did so far complain of the weakness of his candlelight, as that he tells us his lamp would show him nothing but his own darkness. And though a wiser than Socrates be here, yet he is much in the same measure sensible of the dimness of his own intellectuals. And yet he was one that had made many discoveries with this Candle of the Lord, he had searched into the mines, and several veins of knowledge; he had searched into the hid treasures of wisdom, he had searched to the depth of State-affairs, he had searched into the bowels of natural causes, into the Magnalia & Mysteria of Nature; as if among many other wives he had espoused Nature also to himself, he had searched into the several tempers and intellectual complexions of men; he had searched long enough with this Candle of the Lord, to see if he could find any good under the Sun, he went with his Candle to find out a summum bonum; he searched into all the corners of being; and at length being sufficiently wearied; you may see him sitting down; you may hear him complaining that he had but spent and wasted the Candle of the Lord in vain; for so much is employed in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ this was but depastio spiritûs, as he himself calls it.  
Yet he was one that showed others how they might make better improvement of their intellectual lamp; and this was his wisest advice that he gave upon his most mature and concocted thoughts, this was tanquam mox emoriturae lucernae supremus fulgor: that men would only follow this Candle of the Lord, as it directs them in the ways of God, which are ways of sweetness and pleasantness, for this was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the very end why God set up such a light in the soul, that it might search out his Creator with it.  
And as for the mind of the words, though one would think they were very clear, and shining with their own light, yet interpreters are pleased to cloud them, to turn light itself into a Chaos, and to cast darkness upon the face of the Text; like some unskilful ones, while they go about to snuff the Candle, they put it out, but we'll try whether it can be blown in again.  
We shall reduce their several meanings to these three heads.  
1) Some would have it thus. The Candle of the Lord ●s in the understanding of a man, as if the words did run thus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Lucerna Domini in ment hominis, that is, God with his Candle discovers the very thoughts and intentions of men, he searches into every corner of the heart; he has lucernam in cord, he spies out every Atom, he perceives the first starting of a motion, the first peeping out of a thought, but this, though it be very true, yet is nothing to the purpose here.  
2) Some gloss upon the words thus, the understanding of man when 'tis enlightened with supernatural knowledge, is then the Candle of the Lord: but these do rather dictate to Solomon, and tell him what they would have him say; they do rather frame and fashion a Proverb to themselves, then explain his meaning: and these are they that are afraid to give natural light, and natural reason their due. But  
3) I shall fully agree with them that take this for the proper and genuine meaning of the place, that God hath breathed into all the sons of men, Reasonable souls which may serve as so many Candles to enlighten and direct them in the searching out their Creator, in the discovering of other inferior beings, and themselves also; and this is that which is here employed by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that same spiraculum vitae, nay that same immortal breath, that same rational breath quickened by God himself, and flowing from him as a pure derivation from his own being, and thus the Hebr. Doctors do still look upon this word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as that which does express 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, animam rationis participem, and (as they observe) it has a plain vicinity with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but to be sure the being is derived from thence whether the word be or no. So then 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 it points out the supreme region, the very top and flower of a reasonable soul, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 does speak nothing but the dregs and bottom of it, the inferior and sensitive soul. The Apostle Paul in his learned speech to the Athenians mentions them both, and calls them very significantly, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and so some also take that other place of the Apostle in that accurate discourse of his to the Corinthians, that which he calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they call it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and that which he terms 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they render it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, though it be true also that sometimes they take the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in a more generical sense, for thus they tell us, there are in man 3 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. (1) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the vegetable soul, a soul in the bud, the very blossom and flower of life. (2) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 anima bruti, a soul looking out at the window of sense. (3) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a soul sparkling and glittering with intellectuals, a soul crowned with light, and this is the same with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ Now as for that other word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 though sometimes the mind of man his intellectual part be expressed by it, yet the word in its own nature is a great deal more large and comprehensive, and as it extends to some material beings, so it reaches to all spirituals; hence 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ and the Angels both good and bad frequently come under this name, but when 'tis put for the mind and spirit of man, yet I find it very well differenced from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 doth properly import impetum animi, motum mentis, the vigour and energy of the soul, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, rather than 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the Hebrew Doctors are pleased to tell us the several situations of these, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 they say is in cord, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in cerebro, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in hepate. Now though I know that some places in the New Testament which speak of soul and spirit meet with this interpretation, that spirit there is the purest eminency, the most refined part of the soul; yet this is not at all prejudicial to what we now speak of; for first, they may take it for the regenerate part of the soul, that which the Apostle calls the new creature; or else (2) suppose it be spoke of the soul in its natural condition, 'tis worth the considering then whether it would not be better rendered by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 then 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here is rendered the spirit of a man; but (3) grant that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 be more answerable to it, and that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 should have the worth and precedency of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which yet will scarce ever be shown or explained; yet this is very sure and unquestionable, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 does very properly speak a reasonable soul, and that the more peculiarly, because when Moses speaks of that very moment when 'twas created, and breathed into man, he calls it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and the Arab. interpreter keeps as close to the words, as so vast a Dialect will give leave, and styles it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 halitus vitae. And 'tis soothworth, the wondering at that that learned interpreter of Genesis, who is so well versed in Rabbinical writings should yet expound that of the sensitive; but they run as far into the other extreme that would understand 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of a soul advanced above itself by supernatural principles, and I think this sense will scarce be owned by any that can construe Hebrew.  
So then, these words are a brief commendation of natural Light, of the Light of Reason. For the farther clearing of which we must inquire. (1) What Nature is. (2) What the Law of Nature is. (3) What the Light of Nature is.   

CHAP. III.  
What Nature is.  
THe words being to be understood of Lumen Naturale, according to the minds of the best and most interpreters; it will be very needful to inquire what Nature is, and here we will be sure not to speak one word for Nature, which shall in the least measure tend to the eclipsing of Grace; nay, nothing but what shall make for the greater brightening and amplifying of the free Grace and distinguishing goodness of God in Christ; and nothing but what an Augustin, or a Bradwardin those great Patrons of Grace would willingly set their seals unto.  
Well then, as for Nature, though it be not far from any one of us, though it be so intimate to our very beings; though it be printed and engraved upon our essences, and not upon ours only, but upon the whole Creation; and though we put all the letters and Characters of it together as well as we can, yet we shall find it hard enough, to spell it out, and read what it is; for as it is in corporeal vision, the too much approximation and vicinity of an object does stop up and hinder sight, so 'tis also many times in Intellectual Optics; we see something better at a distance; the soul cannot so easily see its own face, nor so fully explain its own nature. We need some Scholiast or Interpreter, ●o comment upon our own beings, and to acquaint us with our own Idioms; and I meet with many Authors that speak of the light of Nature, but I can scarce find one that tells us what it is. Those famous and learned Triumvirs; SELDEN, that has made it his work to write De Jure Naturali; and Grotius that has said somewhat of it in his book De Jure Belli & Pacis: and Salmasius that has touched it in his late Treatise De Coma, and in his little Dialogue subordinate to it, in either of which, if he had pleased, he might have described it without a digression; yet none of these (as far as I can find) give us the least adumbration of it; which notwithstanding was the rather to be expected from them, because the Philosophers had left it in such a cloudy and obscured manner, as if they had never seen Nature face to face, but only through a glass darkly, and in a riddle. And as we read of a Painter that represented Nature appearing to Aristotle with a veil and mask upon her face; so truly Aristotle himself painted her as he saw her, with her veil on, for he shows her only wrapped up and muffled in matter and form, whereas methinks he that could set Intelligences to the wheel to spin out time and motion, should have allowed them also some natural ability for performing so famous a task and employment, which his head set them about. And truly why Angelical beings should be banished from the Commonwealth of▪ Nature; nay, why they should not properly belong to Physics as well as other particular beings; or why bodies only should engross and monopolise natural Philosophy, and why a soul cannot be admitted into it, unless it bring a certificate and commendamus from the body, is a thing altogether unaccountable, unless it be resolved into a mere Arbitrary determination, and a Philosophical kind of Tyranny.  
And yet Aristotle's description of Nature has been held very sacred, and some of the Schoolmen do even dote upon it. Aquinas tells us in plain terms, Deridendi sunt, qui volunt Aristotelis definitionem corrigere. The truth is, I make no question but that Aristotle's definition is very commensurate to what he meant by Nature; but that he had the true and adequate notion of Nature, this I think Aquinas himself can scarce prove; and I would fain have him to explain what it is for a thing innotescere lumine Naturae, if Nature be only principium motûs & quietis. Yet Plutarch also in this point seems to compromise with Aristotle, and after a good, specious and hopeful Preface, where he says that he must needs tell us what Nature is, after all this preparation he does most palpably restrain it to corporeal beings, and then votes it to be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And Empedocles, (as he is quoted by him) will needs exercise his Poetry and make some Verses upon Nature, and you would think at the first dash that they were in a good lofty strain, for thus he sings— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 'Twas not of a mortal withering offspring, nor of a fading Genealogy; but yet truly his Poetical raptures were not so high as to elevate him above a body, for he presently sinks into 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he falls down into matter, and makes Nature nothing else but that which is ingenerable and incorruptible in material beings; just as the Peripatetics speak of their materia prima. But Plato who was more spiritual in his Philosophy, chides some of his contemporaries, and is extremely displeased with them, and that very justly, for they were degenerated into a most stupid Atheism, and resolved all beings into one of these three Originals, that they were either 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. They were either the workmanship of Nature, or of Fortune, or of Art. Now as for the first and chief corporeal beings, they made them the productions of Nature, that is, (say they) they sprung from eternity into being by their own impetus, and by their own virtue and efficacy, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, like so many natural automata, they were the principles of their own being and motion, and this they laid down for one of their axioms. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. All the Masterpieces of being, the most lovely and beautiful pictures were drawn by Nature, and Fortune; and Art only could reach to some poor rudiments, to some shadows, and weaker imitations, which you will be somewhat amazed at when you hear by and by what these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 were.  
The foundation of being, that they said was Natural, the mutation and disposing of being, that they made the employment of Fortune, and then they said the work of Art was to find out Laws, and Morality, and Religion, and a Deity; these were the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 they spoke of before.  
But that Divine Philosopher does most admirably discover the prodigious folly of this opinion, and demonstrate the impossibility of it in that excellent discourse of his, in his 10 De Legibus. Where he does most clearly and convincingly show, that those things, which they say were framed by Art; were in duration infinitely before that which they call Nature, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that spirituals have the seniority of corporeals. This he makes to appear by their (1) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (2) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (3) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for these three though they be not expressly mentioned in him, yet they may very easily be collected from him. Souls they move themselves, and they move bodies too, and therefore must needs be first in motion; so that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Reason and Religion, Laws and Prudence must needs be before density and rarity, before gravity & levity, before all conditions and dimensions of bodies. And Laws and Religion they are indeed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; that is, the contrivances and productions of that eternal 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the wisdom of God himself.  
So that all that Plato will allow to Nature, amounts to no more than this, that it is not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 opifex rerum, but only Dei 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 famula & ministra; As the eyes of a servant wait upon his master, and as the eyes of an handmaiden look up to her mistress, so wait her eyes upon the Lord her God. And he doth fully resolve and determine that God is the soul of the world, and Nature but the body; which must be took only in sensu florido, in a flourishing and Rhetorical sense: that God is the fountain of being, and Nature but the channel; that he is the kernel of being, and Nature but the shell. Yet herein Plato was defective, that he did not correct and reform the abuse of this word Nature; that he did not screw it up to an higher and more spiritual notion. For 'tis very agreeable to the choicest, and supremest being; and the Apostle tells us of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. So that 'tis time at length to draw the veil from Nature's face, and to look upon her beauty.  
And first, 'tis the usual language of many, both Philosophers and others, to put Nature for God himself, or at least for the general providence of God; and this in the Schoolmens rough and unpolisht Latin, is styled Natura naturans; thus Nature is took for that constant and Catholic Providence, that spreads its wings over all created beings, and shrouds them under its warm and happy protection. Thus that elegant Moralist Plutarch speaks more like to himself then in his former description. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Nature is in all things accurate and punctual, 'tis not defective nor parsimonious, nor yet sprouting and luxuriant: and consonant to this is that sure axiom, Natura nihil facit frustrá. Thus God set up the world as a fair and goodly clock, to strike in time, and to move in an orderly manner, not by its own weights (as Durand would have it) but by fresh influence from himself, by that inward and intimate spring of immediate concourse, that should supply it in a most uniform and proportionable manner.  
Thus God framed this great Organ of the world, he tuned it, yet not so as that it could play upon itself, or make any music by virtue of this general composure, (as Durand fancies it) but that it might be fitted and prepared for the finger of God himself, and at the presence of his powerful touch might sound forth the praise of its Creator in a most sweet and harmonious manner.  
And thus Nature is that regular line, which the wisdom of God himself has drawn in being 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as he speaks, whereas that which they miscalled Fortune, was nothing but a line fuller of windings and varieties; and as Nature was a fixed and ordinary kind of Providence; so Fortune was nothing but a more abstruse, and mysterious, and occult kind of Providence, and therefore Fortune was not blind, as they falsely painted and represented her; but they themselves were blind and could not see into her. And in this sense that speech of that grave Moralist Seneca is very remarkable, Providentia, fatum, natura, casus, fortuna sunt ejusdem Dei varia nomina.  
But than secondly, Nature as 'tis scattered and distributed in particular beings, so 'tis the very same with essence itself, and therefore spirituals, as they have their essence, so they have their Nature too, and if we gloried in names, 'twould be easy to heap up a multitude of testimonies in which these two must needs be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
And thus Nature speaks these two things.  
1) It points out Originem entis, 'tis the very Genius of Entity, 'tis present at the nativity of every being, nay 'tis being itself. There is no moment in which you can imagine a thing to be, and yet to be without its Nature.  
2) It speaks Operationem entis, and 'tis a principle of working in spirituals, as well as principium motûs & quietis in corporeals. All essence bubbles out, flows forth, and paraphrases upon itself in operations. Hence it is that such workings as are facilitated by custom, are esteemed natural. Hence that known speech of Galen, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Customs are frequently adopted and ingraffed into Nature. Hence also our usual Idiom calls a good disposition a good nature. Thus the Moralists express Virtues or Vices that are deeply rooted, by this term 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
And so some, and Grotius amongst the rest, would understand that place of the Apostle, Does not even Nature itself teach you, of a general custom: but that word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 does plainly refuse that interpretation; and the learned Salmasius does both grant and evince, that it cannot be meant of custom there. And thus having seen what Nature is, 'twill be very easy in the next place to tell you what the Law of Nature is.   

CHAP. IU.  
Of the nature of a Law in general.  
BEfore we can represent unto you the Law of Nature, you must first frame and fashion in your minds the just notion of a Law in general. And Aquinas gives us this shadowy representation of it; Lex est quaedam regula & mensura, secund●m quam inducitur aliquis ad agendum, vel ab agendo retrahitur. But Suarez is offended with the latitude of this definition, and esteems it too spreading and comprehensive, as that which extends to all Naturals, I, and to Artificials too; for they have regulas & mensuras operationum; Thus God has set a Law to the waves, and a Law to the winds; nay, thus clocks have their laws, and Lutes have their Laws, and whatsoever has the least appearance of motion, has some rule proportionable to it. Whereas these workings were always reckoned to be at the most but inclinationes, & pondera, and not the fruits of a legislative power. But yet the Apostle Paul, to stain the pride of them that gloried in the Law, calls such things by the name of Law as were most odious and anomalous. Thus he tells us of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, though sin be properly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: Thus he mentions Legem membrorum, the same which the Schoolmen call Legem fomitis.  
And yet this is sure, that a rational creature is only capable of a Law, which is a moral restraint, and so cannot reach to those things that are necessitated to act ad extremum virium.  
And therefore Suarez does give us a more refined description, when he tells us that Lex est mensura quaedam actuum moralium, it à ut per conformitatem ad illam, Rectitudinem moralem habeant, & si ab illa discordent, obliqui sint. A Law is such a just and regular tuning of Actions, as that by virtue of this they may conspire into a moral music, and become very pleasant and harmonious. Thus Plato speaks much of that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that is in Laws, and in his second book De Leg. he does altogether discourse of harmony, and does infinitely prefer mental and intellectual music, those powerful and practical strains of goodness, that spring from a well-composed spirit, before those delicious blandishments, those soft and transient touches that comply with sense, and salute it in a more flattering manner; and he tells you of a spiritual dancing that is answerable to so sweet a music, to these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Whilst the Laws play in consort, there is a Chorus of well ordered affections that are raised and elevated by them.  
And thus as Aristotle well observes, some Laws were wont to be put in verse, and to be sung like so many pleasant odes, that might even charm the people into obedience.  
'Tis true, that learned Philosopher gives this reason of it, they were put into verse, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that they might remember them the better: but why may not this reason also share with it, that they might come with a greater grace and allurement, that they might hear them as pleasantly as they would do the voice of a Vial or an Harp, that has Rhetoric enough to still and quiet the evil spirit? But yet this does not sufficiently paint out the being of a Law, to say that 'tis only regula & mensura; and Suarez himself is so ingenuous as to tell us that he cannot rest satisfied with this description, which he drew but with a coal as a rudiment rather than a full portraiture; and therefore we'll give him some time to perfect it, and to put it into more orient colours.  
And in the mean time we'll look upon that speculative Lawgiver, Plato I mean, who was always new modelling of Laws, and rolling Political Ideas in his mind.  
Now you may see him gradually ascending and climbing up to the description of a law, by these four several steps, & yet he does not reach the top & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of it neither. First, he tells us that Laws are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, such things as are esteemed fitting; but because this might extend to all kind of customs too, his second thoughts limit and contract it more, and tell us that a Law is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Decretum civitatis, yet because the mass and bulk of people, the rude heap and undigested lump of the multitude may seek to establish 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as he calls it; therefore he bethinks himself how to clarify a Law, how to purge out the dross from it, and tells us in the next place, that it is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, inventio ejus quod verè est, where it is very remarkable what this Philosopher means by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, by which he is wont usually to point out a Deity, which is styled by Aristotle 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but it is not capable of this sense here, for thus Laws are not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but rather 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Lex est inventio, vel donum Dei, as the Orator speaks. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ therefore in this place speaks these two particulars. (1) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for all rectitude has a being, and flows from the fountain of being, whereas obliquities and irregularities are mere privations, and nonentity; and 'tis a notable speech of Plato, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the very same expression which the Apostle gives to the Law of God, when he calls it the royal Law. (2) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 implies 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, every thing that is profitable has a being in it, but you can gather no fruit from a privation; there is no sweetness in an obliquity, and therefore a Law is an wholesome mixture of that that is just and profitable, and this is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Plutarch speaks. Whereas turpe praeceptum non est lex, sed iniquitas, for obligation that's the very form and essence of a Law; Now every Law obligat in Nomine Dei; but so glorious a name did never bind to any thing that was wicked and unequal. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and that only is countenanced from heaven. The golden chain of Laws, 'tis tied to the chair of Jupiter, and a command is only vigorous as it issues out, either immediately or remotely, from the great Sovereign of the world. So that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is the sure bottom and foundation of every Law. But then because he had not yet expressed who were the competent searchers out of this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, therefore he tells you in the last place that Laws are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which he clears by other things; for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And he resolves it into this, that in all true kinds of government there is some supreme power derived from God himself, and fit to contrive Laws and Constitutions agreeable to the welfare and happiness of those that are to be subject to them; and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (as he speaks) are the fittest makers of Laws.  
Yet you must take notice here of these two things. (1) That he did not lay stress enough upon that binding virtue, which is the very sinew, nay the life and soul of a Law. (2) That these three descriptions 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 intent only humane Laws, and so are not boiled up to the purer notion of a Law in general.  
And though that same other branch 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 may seem to reach farther yet, 'tis too obscure, too much in the clouds to give a clear manifestation of the nature of a Law. And yet Aristotle does not in this supply Plato's defects, but seems rather to paraphrase upon these descriptions of humane Laws, and tells in more enlarged language, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Where yet he cannot possibly mean that every individuum should give his suffrage, but certainly the representative consent of the whole will content him.  
But I see these ancient Philosophers are not so well furnished, but that we must return to the Schoolmen again, who by this time have licked their former descriptions into a more comely form. We will look upon Aquinas his first.  
Lex (says he) est ordinatio rationis ad bonum commune ab eo qui curam habet Communitatis, Promulgata. It is a rational Ordinance for the advancing of public good, made known by that power, which has care and tuition of the public.  
And Suarez his picture of a Law, now that 'tis fully drawn, hath much the same aspect. Lex est commune praeceptum, justum ac stabile, sufficienter promulgatum. A Law is a public command, a just and immovable command, lifting up its voice like a trumpet, and in respect of the Lawgiver, though it do praesupponere actum intellectüs, as all acts of the will do; yet it does formally consist in actu voluntatis; not the understanding, but the will of a Lawgiver makes a Law. But in respect of him that is subject to the Law it does consist in actu rationis, 'tis required only that he should know it, not in actu voluntatis, it does not depend upon his obedience. The want of his will is not enough to enervate and invalidate a Law when 'tis made; all Laws than would be abrogated every moment. His will indeed is required to the execution and fulfilling of the Law, not to the validity and existence of the Law: and thus all the laws of God do not at all depend upon the will of man, but upon the power and will of the Lawgiver. Now in the framing of every Law there is to be  
1) Intentio boni communis, and thus that speech of Carneades, Vtilitas justi propè mater, & aequi, if it be took in this sense, is very commendable; whereas in that other sense (in which 'tis thought he meant it) is not so much as tolerable. Lawgivers should send out laws with Olive-branches in their mouths, they should be fruitful and peaceable; they should drop sweetness and fatness upon a land. Let not then Brambles make laws for Trees, lest they scratch them and tear them, and write their laws in blood. But Lawgivers are to send out laws, as the Sun shoots forth his beams, with healing under their wings: and thus that elegant Moralist Plutarch speaks. God (says he) is angry with them that sergeant his thunder and lightning, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; his Sceptre, and his Thunderbolt, and his Trident, he will not let them meddle with these. He does not love they should imitate him in his absolute dominion and sovereignty; but loves to see them darting out those warm, and amiable, and cherishing 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, those beamings out of Justice, and goodness, and clemency. And as for Laws, they should be like so many green and pleasant pastures, into which these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are to lead their flocks, where they may feed sweetly and securely by those refreshing streams of justice, that runs down like water, and righteousness like a mighty torrent. And this consideration would sweep down many cobweblawes, that argue only the venom and subtlety of them that spin them; this would sweep down many an Achitophel's web and many an Hamans' web, many an Herod's web; every spider's web that spreads laws only for the catching and entangling of weaker ones; such Lawgivers are fit to be Domitian's play-fellows, that made it his Royal sport and pastime to catch flies, and insult over them when he had done. Whereas a Law should be a staff for a Commonwealth to lean on, and not a Reed to pierce it through. Laws should be cords of love, not nets and snares. Hence it is that those laws are most radical and fundamental, that principally tend to the conservation of the vitals and essentials of a Kingdom; and those come nearest the Law of God himself, and are participations of that eternal Law, which is the spring and original of all inferior and derivative laws. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Plato speaks; and there is no such public benefit, as that which comes by laws; for all have an equal interest in them, and privilege by them. And therefore as Aristotle speaks most excellently, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. A Law is a pure intellect, not only without a sensitive appetite, but without a will. 'Tis pure judgement without affections, a Law is impartial and makes no factions; and a Law cannot be bribed though a Judge may. And that great Philosopher does very well prosecute this; If you were to take physic, (says he) then indeed 'tis ill being determined by a book, 'tis dangerous taking a printed recipe, you had better leave it to the breast of the Physician, to his skill and advice, who minds your health and welfare, as being most for his gain and credit. But in point of justice the case is very different; you had better here depend upon a Rule, then to leave it to the arbitrary power of a Judge, who is usually to decide a controversy between two; and if left to himself, were apt to be swayed and biased by several interests & engagements, which might incline him to one more than another. Nay now that there is a sixth rule, an immovable law, yet there is too much partiality in the application of it; how much more would there be, if there were no rule at all?  
But the truth is, the Judge should only follow the ultimum & practicum dictamenlegis; his will like a ●ae●a potentia is to follow the novissimum lumen intellectûs of this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that is to rule and guide him, and therefore justice was painted blind, though ip●a lex be oculata, for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the will is to follow the ultimum nutum capitis, the meaning of the Law in all circumstances.  
2) In a Lawgiver, there is to be judicium & prudenti● Architectonica ad ferendas leges, the Egyptian Hieroglyphic for legislative power, was Oculus in sceptra; and it had need be such an eye that can see both 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. It had need have a full and open prospect into public affairs, and to put all advantages into one scale, and all inconveniences into another.  
To be sure the Laws of God, they flow from a fountain of wisdom, and the laws of men are to be lighted at this Candle of the Lord, which he has set up in them, and those laws are most potent and prevalent that are founded in light, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Other laws are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they may have an iron and adamantine necessity, but the others have a soft and downy persuasion going along with them, and therefore as he goes on 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Reason is so beautiful, as that it wins and allures, and thus constrains to obedience.  
3) There is to be sigillum Legis, I mean Electio & Determinatio Legis, after a sincere aim at public good, and a clear discovery of the best means to promote it, there comes then a fixed and sacred resolution; Volumus & statuimus, this speaks the will of the Lawgiver, and breaths life into the Law, it adds vigour and efficacy to it. But yet notwithstanding,  
4) There must be vox tubae, that is, promulgatio & insinuatio Legis; The Law 'tis for a public good, and is to be made known in a public manner; for as none can desire an unknown good, so none can obey an unknown Law; and therefore invincible ignorance does excuse; for else men should be bound to absolute impossibilities. But whether it be required to the publishing of a Law that it should be in way of writing, which is more fixed and durable, or whether the manifestation of it in a Vocal and Oral manner will suffice, (which yet is more transient and uncertain) I leave the Lawyers and Schoolmen to dispute it. This I am sure, that all the Laws of God are proclaimed in a most sufficient and emphatical manner.   

CHAP. V.  
Of the Eternal Law.  
HAving thus looked upon the being of a Law in general, we now come to the spring and original of all Laws, to the eternal Law, that fountain of Law, out of which you may see the Law of Nature bubbling and flowing forth to the sons of men. For, as Aquinas does very well tell us, the Law of Nature is nothing but participatio Legis aeternae in Rationali creatura, the copying out of the eternal Law, and the imprinting of it upon the breast of a Rational being, that eternal Law was in a manner incarnated in the Law of Nature.  
Now this eternal Law it is not really distinguished from God himself. For Nil est ab aeterno nisi ipse Deus, so that 'tis much of the same nature with those decrees of his, and that Providence which was awake from everlasting. For as God from all eternity by the hand of infinite wisdom did draw the several faces and lineaments of being, which he meant to show in time: So he did then also contrive their several frames with such limits and compass as he meant to set them; and said to every thing, Hither shalt thou go, and no farther.  
This the Platonists would call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and would willingly heap such honourable titles as these upon it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And the greatest happiness the other Laws can arrive unto, is this, that they be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, ministering and subservient Laws; waiting upon this their Royal Law. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Or as they would choose to style them, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, some shadows & appearances of this bright and glorious Law, or at the best, they would be esteemed by them but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the noble offspring and progeny of Laws; blessing this womb that bore them, and this breast that gave them suck.  
And thus the Law of Nature would have a double portion as being Lex primogenita, the firstborn of this eternal Law, and the beginning of its strength. Now as God himself shows somewhat of his face in the glass of creatures, so the beauty of this Law gives some representations of itself in those pure derivations of inferior Laws that stream from it. And as we ascend to the first and supreme being, by the steps of second causes; so we may climb up to a sight of this eternal Law, by those fruitful branches of secondary Laws, which seem to have their root in earth, when as indeed it is in heaven; and that I may vary a little that of the Apostle to the Romans, The invisible Law of God long before the creation of the world, is now elearly seen being understood by those Laws which do appear; so that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is manifested in them, God having shown it to them. Thus, as the Schoolmen say very well, Omnis lex participata supponit legem per essentiam, every impression supposes a seal from whence it came; every ray of light puts you in mind of a Sun from which it shines. Wisdom and power, these are the chief ingredients into a Law; now where does Wisdom dwell, but in the head of a Deity? and where does power triumph, but in the arm of Omnipotency?  
A Law is borne ex cerebro Jovis, and it is not brachium seculare, but Coeleste that must maintain it, even humane Laws have their virtue radicaliter, & remotè (as the Schools speak) from this eternal Law. Thus that famous and most renowned Orator and Patriot (Tully I mean) does most admirably express the lineage and descent of Laws in this golden manner. Hanc video sapientissimorum ●uisse sontentiam, Legem nemque hominum ingeniis ex●ogitata●, neque scitum aliquod esse Populorum, sed aet●rnum quidd●● quod universum mundum regeret, imperandi prohibendique sapientiâ. It à principem illam Legem & ultimam ment●m dicebant omnia ratione out cogentis, aut vetanti● Dei. Which I shall thus render, Wise men did ever look upon a Law, not as on a spark struck from humane intellectuals, not blown up or kindled with popular breath, but they thought it an eternal light shining from God himself irradiating, guiding and ruling the whole Universe; most sweetly and powerfully discovering what ways were to be chosen, and what to be refused. And the mind of God himself is the centre of Laws, from which they were drawn, and into which they must return.  
Thus also that florid Moralist Plutarch resolves all Law and Justice into that Primitive and eternal Law, even God himself, for even thus he tells us. Justice (says he) does not only sit like a Queen at the right hand of Jupiter when he is upon his throne, but she is always in his bosom, and one with himself; and he closes it up with this, that God himself is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. As he is the most ancient of days, so also is he the most ancient of laws; as he is the perfection of beings, so is he also the rule of operations.  
Nor must I let slip that passage of Plato, where he calls a law 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the golden Sceptre by which God himself rules and commands; for as all true Government has a bright stamp of divine Sovereignty, so every true Law has a plain superscription of his Justice. Laws are anointed by God himself, and most precious oil drops down upon them to the skirts of a Nation; and the Law of Nature had the oil of gladness poured out upon it above its fellows.  
So then, that there is such a prime and supreme Law is clear, and unquestionable; but who is worthy to unseal and open this Law? and who can sufficiently display the glory of it? we had need of a Moses that could ascend up into the Mount, and converse with God himself, and yet when he came down he would be fain to put a veil upon his face, and upon his expressions too, lest otherwise he might too much dazzle inferior understandings; but if the Schoolmen will satisfy you, (and you know some of them are styled Angelical, and Seraphical) you shall hear, if you will, what they'll say to it.  
Now this Law according to them is Aeterna quaedam ratio practica totius dispositionis, & gubernationis Vniversi. 'Tis an eternal Ordinance made in the depth of God's infinite wisdom and council for regulating and governing of the whole world, which yet had not its binding virtue in respect of God himself, who has always the full and unrestrained liberty of his own essence, which is so infinite, as that it cannot bind itself, and which needs no Law, all goodness and perfection being so intrinsical and essential to it: but it was a binding determination in reference to the creature, which yet in respect of all irrational beings, did only fortiter inclinare, but in respect of Rationals, it does formaliter obligare.  
By this great and glorious Law every good action was commanded, and all evil was discountenanced, and forbidden from everlasting. According to this righteous Law all rewards and punishments were distributed in the eternal thoughts of God. At the command of this Law all created beings took their several ranks and stations, and put themselves in such operations as were best agreeable and conformable to their beings. By this Law all essences were ordained to their ends by most happy and convenient means, The life and vigour of this Law sprang from the will of God himself; from the voluntary decree of that eternal Lawgiver, minding the public welfare of being; who when there were heaps of varieties and possibilities in his own most glorious thoughts, when he could have made such or such world's in this or that manner, in this or that time, with such & such species, that should have had more or fewer individuals, as he pleased, with such operations as he would allow unto them; he did then select and pitch upon this way and method in which we see things now constituted; and did bind all things according to their several capacities to an exact and accurate observation of it.  
So that by this you see how those eternal ideas in the mind of God, and this eternal Law do differ. I speak now of Ideas not in a Platonical sense, but in a Scholastical, (unless they both agree, as some would have them.) For Idea est possibilium, Lex tantùm futurorum, God had before him the picture of every possibility, yet he did not intend to bind a possibility, but only a futurity. Besides, Ideas they were situated only in the understanding of God; whereas a Law has force and efficacy from his will; according to that much commended saying, In Coelesti & Angelica curia voluntas Dei Lex est. And then an Idea does magìs respicere artificem, it stays there where first it was; but a Law does potius respicere subditum, it calls for the obedience of another, as Suarez does very well difference them.  
Neither yet is this eternal Law the same with the providence of God, though that be eternal also. But as Aquinas speaks, Lex se habet ad providentiam, sicut principium generale ad particulares conclusiones; or, if you will, Sicut principia primae practicae ad prudentiam; his meaning is this, that Providence is a more punctual and particular application of this binding rule, and is not the Law itself but the superintending power, which looks to the execution and accomplishment of it; or as the most acute Suarez has it, Lex dicit jus in communi constitutum, providentia dicit curam quae de singulis actibus haberi debet.  
Besides, a Law in its strict and peculiar notion, does only reach to rational beings; whereas Providence does extend and spread itself over all. But that which vexes the Schoolmen most, is this, that they having required promulgation as a necessary condition to the existence of a Law, yet they cannot very easily show how this eternal Law, should be published from everlasting. But the most satisfactory account that can be given to that, is this, that other Lawgivers being very voluble and mutable before their mind and will be fully and openly declared, they may have a purpose indeed, but it cannot be esteemed a Law. But in God there being no variableness nor shadow of turning, this his Law has a binding virtue as soon as it has a being, yet so as that it does not actually and formally oblige a creature till it be made known unto it: either by some revelation from God himself which is possible only, and extraordinary; or else by the mediation of some other ●aw, of the Law of Nature, which is the usual and constant way that God takes for the promulgation of this his eternal Law. For that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that sacred Manuscript, which is writ by the finger of God himself in the heart of man, is a plain transcript of this original Law, so far as it concerns man's welfare. And this you see does most directly bring me to search out the Law of Nature.   

CHAP. VI  
Of the Law of Nature in general, its subject and nature.  
THe Law of Nature is that Law which is intrinsecal and essential to a rational creature; and such a Law is as necessary as such a creature, for such a creature as a creature has a superior to whose Providence and disposing it must be subject, and then as an intellectual creature 'tis capable of a moral government, so that 'tis very suitable and connatural to it to be regulated by a Law; to be guided and commanded by one that is infinitely more wife and intelligent than itself is; and that minds its welfare more than itself can. Insomuch that the most bright and eminent creatures, even angelical beings, and glorified souls are subject to a Law, though with such an happy privilege, as that they cannot violate and transgress it; whereas the very dregs of entity, the most ignoble beings are most incapable of a ●aw; for you know inanimate beings are carried on only with the vehemency and necessity of natural inclinations; nay, sensitive beings cannot reach or aspire to so great a perfection as to be wrought upon in such an illuminative way as a Law is; they are not drawn with these cords of men, with these moral engagements, but in a more impulsive manner driven and spurred on with such impetuous propensions as are founded in matter; which yet are directed by the wise and vigilant eye, and by the powerful hand of a Providence to a more beautiful and amiable end, than they themselves were acquainted with. But yet the Lawyers, the Civilians would feign enlarge the Law of Nature, and would willingly persuade us that all sensitive creatures must be brought within the compass of it; for this they tell us, Jus naturale est quod natura omnia animalia docuit, nam jus illud non solùm Humani Generis est proprium, sed ●mnium animalium quae in terra marique nascuntur, avium quoque commune est. Nay, they are so confident of it, as that they instance in several particulars, Maris & foeminae conjunctio, Liberorum procreatio, educatio, conservatio, Plurima in tutelam propriam facta, Apium respub. Columbarum conjugia. But not only the Critics, but the Schoolmen also do sufficiently correct the Lawyers for this their vanity; for certainly these men mean to bring beasts, birds and fishes into their Courts, and to have some fees out of them. Perhaps they expect also that the Doves should take Licences before they marry: it may be they require of the beasts some penitential, or (which will suffice them) some pecuniary satisfaction for all their adulteries; or it may be the Pope will be so favourable, as to give his fellow- Beasts some dispensation for all their irregular and incongruous mixtures.  
But yet notwithstanding, they prosecute this their notion, and go on to frame this difference between 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Jus Gentium, & Jus Naturale. The Law of Nature (say they) is that which is common with men to irrational Creatures also; but the Law of Nations is only between men: but this distinction is built upon a very sandy bottom; what the true difference is we shall see hereafter. Now all that can be pleaded in the behalf of the Lawyers, is this, that they err more in the word then in the reality. They cannot sufficiently clear this Title of a Law; for that there are some clear and visible stamps and impressions of Nature upon sensitive beings, will be easily granted them by all, and those instances which they bring, are so many ocular demonstrations of it; but that there should a formal obligation lie upon Brutes; that they should be bound to the performance of natural commands in a legal manner; that there should be a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 upon them, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, so as that they should be left without excuse, and lie under palpable guilt, and be obnoxious to punishment for the violation of it, this they cannot possibly find out, unless they could set up this Candle of the Lord in sensitive creatures also; whereas there are in them only some 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as the Philosopher calls them, which the Orator renders, virtutum simulacra, some apish imitations of reason, some shadows of morality, some cunterfeit Ethics, some wild Economics, some faint representations of Politics amongst some of them. Yet all this while they are as far distant from the truth of a Law, as they are from the strength of Reason. There you may see some sparks of the divine power and goodness, but you cannot see the Candle of the Lord. Now these men might have considered if they had pleased; that as for the prints and footsteps of Nature, some of them may be seen in every being. For Nature has stamped all entity with the same seal, some softer beings took the impression very kindly and clearly; some harder ones took it more obscurely.  
Nature played so harmoniously and melodiously upon her Harp, as that her music proved not only like that of Orpheus, which set only the sensitive creatures on dancing; but like that of Amphion, inanimate beings were elevated by it, even the very stones did knit and unite themselves to the building of the Universe.  
Show me any being, if you can, that does not love its own welfare, that does not seek its own rest, its centre, its happiness, that does not desire its own good 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as he speaks; pick out an entity, if you can tell where, that does not long for the continuation and amplification, for the diffusion and spreading of its own being. Yet surely the Lawyers themselves cannot imagine that there is a Law given to all inanimate beings, or that they are accountable for the violation.  
Let them also demur awhile upon that argument which Suarez urges against them, that these sensitive creatures are totally defective in the most principal branches of the Law of Nature; as in the acknowledging of a Deity, in the adoring of a Deity, where is there the least adumbration of divine worship, in sensitive beings? What do they more than the heavens, which declare the glory of God; or the firmament, which shows his handy work? Unless perhaps the Lawyers can find not only a Commonwealth, but a Church also among the Bees; some Canonical obedience, some laudable ceremonies, some decency and conformity amongst them. We'll only set some of the Poets to laugh the Lawyers out of this opinion; Old Hesiod. tells them his mind very freely.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   
What are those Laws that are observed by a rending and tearing ●ion, by a devouring Leviathan? does the Wolf oppress the Lamb by a Law? Can birds of prey show any Commission for their plundering and violence? thus also that amorous Poet shows that these sensitive creatures, in respect of lust, are absolute Antinomians. For thus he brings in a wanton pleading.  

— Coëunt animalia nullo  
Caetera delicto, nec habetur turpe juvencae  
Ferre patrem tergo; fit equo sua filia conjux▪  
Quásque creavit init pecudes caper; ipsáque cujus  
Semine concepta est, ex illo concipit ales.   
And what though you meet with some 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, some rare patterns of sensitive temperance? a few scattered and uncertain stories will never evince that the whole heap and generality of brutes act according to a Law. You have heard it may be of a chaste Turtle, and did you never hear of a wanton Sparrow? It may be you have read some story of a modest Elephant, but what say you in the mean time to whole flocks of lascivious Goats? Yet grant that the several multitudes, all the species of these irrational creatures were all without spot and blemish in respect of their sensitive conversation, can any therefore fancy that they dress themselves by the glass of a Law? Is it not rather a faithfulness to their own natural inclinations? which yet may very justly condemn some of the sons of men, who though they have the Candle of the Lord, and the Lamp of his Law, yet they degenerate more than these inferior beings, which have only some general dictates of Nature.  
This is that motive with which the Satirist quickened and awakened some of his time;  

Sensum è coelesti demissum traximus arce,  
Cujus egent prona & terram spectantia; Mundi  
Principio indulsit communis Conditor illis  
Tant●m animas, nobis animum quoque.—   
A Law 'tis founded in intellectuals, in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 not in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it supposes a Noble and freeborn creature, for where there is no Liberty, there's no Law, a Law being nothing else but a Rational restraint and limitation of absolute Liberty. Now all Liberty is Radicaliter in Intellectu; and such Creatures as have no light, have no choice, no Moral variety.  
The first and supreme being has so full and infinite a liberty as cannot be bounded by a Law; and these low and slavish beings have not so much liberty as to make them capable of being bound. Inter Bruta silent leges. There is no Turpe nor Honestum amongst them: no duty nor obedience to be expected from them, no praise or dispraise due to them, no punishment not reward to be distributed amongst them.  
But as the learned Grotius does very well observe; Quoniam in bestias propri● delictum non cadit, ubi be●tia occiditur ut in lege Mosis ob concubitum cum homine, non ea verè poena est, sed usus dominii humani in bestiam. For punishment in its formal notion is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (as the Greek Lawyers speak) or as the forementioned Author describes it; 'Tis malum Passionis quod infligitur ob malum actionis. In all punishment there is to be some 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, so that every Damnum or Incommodum is not to be esteemed a punishment, unless it be in vindictam culpae. So as for those Laws given to the Jews, where sometimes the Beast also was to be put to death: the most renowned Selden gives a very full and satisfactory account of it out of the Jewish writings, and does clearly evidence that the meaning was not this; that the Beast was guilty of a crime, and had violated a Law, and therefore was to be condemned and put to death; but it was in order to the happiness and welfare of men; for Bestia cum homine concumbens was to be stoned: partly because it was the occasion of so foul a fact, and so fatal punishment unto man; and partly that the sight and presence of the object might not repeat so prodigious a crime in the thoughts of men, nor renew the memory of it, nor continue the disgrace of him that died for it. But there was another different reason in 'Bove cornupeta, for there, as Maimonides tells us, in his Morch Nebachim, 'twas ad poenam exigendam à Domino: the putting of that to death was a punishment to the owner, for not looking to it better; for I cannot at all consent to the fancy of the Jews, which Josephus mentions; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Although the forenamed Critic give a better sense of it, then 'tis likely the Author ever intended: non in alimentum sumi debuit unde scilicet in Domini commodum cederet: but how such an interpretation can be extracted out of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is not easily to be imagined; for those words of Josephus plainly imply, that the Jews thought such an Ox could not yield wholesome nourishment; or at the best, they looked upon it as an unclean Beast, which was not to be eaten, which indeed was a fond and weak conceit of them, but they had many such, which yet the learned Author loves to excuse, out of his great favour and indulgence to them. Yet, which is very remarkable if the Ox had killed a Gentile, they did not put it to death. It seems it would yield wholesome nourishment for all that. But this we are sure of, that as God does not take care for Oxen, (which the acute Suarez does very well understand of Cura Legislativa, for otherwise God hath a Providential care even of them) so neither does he take care for the punishmeut of Oxen, but 'tis written for his Israel's sake, to whom he has subjected these creatures, and put them under their feet.  
Neither yet can the proper endof a punishment agree to sensitive creatures; for all punishment is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Plato speaks; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 'Tis not in the power of punishment to recall what is past, but to prevent what's possible. And that wise Moralist Seneca does almost translate Plato verbatim; Nemo prudens punit quia peccatum est, sed nè peccetur: Revocari enim praeterita non possunt, futura prohibentur.  
So that the end of all punishment is either in compensationem, which is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'Tis in utilitatem ejus contra quem peccatum est; or else 'tis in emendationem, and so in utilitatem peccantis; in respect of which that elegant Moralist Plutarch styles punishment 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and Hierocles calls it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: or else it is in exemplum, in utilitatem aliorum; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the Greek Orator speaks; the same which God speaks by Moses, that Israel may hear and fear: and thus punishment does 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
But now none of these ends are appliable to sensitive creatures, for there is no more satisfaction to justice in inflicting an evil upon them, than there is in the ruining of inanimate beings, in demolishing of Cities or Temples for Idolatry; which is only for the good of them that can take notice of it; for otherwise as that grave Moralist Seneca has it, quam stultum est his irasci, quae iram nostram nec meruerunt, nec sentiunt: No satisfaction to be had from such things as are not apprehensive of punishment. And therefore Annihilation, though a great evil, yet wants this sting and aggravation of a punishment, for a creature is not sensible of it.  
Much less can you think that a punishment has any power to mend or meliorate sensitive beings, or to give example to others amongst them.  
By all this you see that amongst all irrational beings there is no 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and therefore no 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and therefore no 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: from whence it also flows that the Law of Nature is built upon Reason.  
There is some good so proportionable and nutrimental to the being of man, and some evil so venomous and destructive to his nature, as that the God of Nature does sufficiently antidote and fortify him against the one, and does maintain and sweeten his essence with the other. There is so much harmony in some actions, as that the soul must needs dance at them, and there is such an harsh discord and jarring in others, as that the soul cannot endure them.  
Therefore the learned Grotius does thus describe the Law of Nature; Jus naturale est dictatum Rectae Rationis, indicans, actui alicui, ex ejus convenientia vel disconvenientia cum ipsa natura Rationali, inesse Moralem turpitudinem, aut necessitatem Moralem; & consequenter ab Authore Naturae ipso Deo, talem actum aut vetari aut praecipi. Which I shall thus render; The Law of Nature is a streaming out of Light from the Candle of the Lord, powerfully discovering such a deformity in some evil, as that an intellectual eye must needs abhor it; and such a commanding beauty in some good, as that a rational being must needs be enamoured withit; and so plainly showing that God stamped and sealed the one with his command, and branded the other with his disliking.  
chrysostom makes mention of this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and does very rhetorically enlarge himself upon it in his 12 and 13 Orations 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; where he tells us, that it is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; a Radical and fundamental knowledge, planted in the being of man, budding and blossoming in first principles flourishing and bringing forth fruit, spreading itself into all the fair and goodly branches of Morality, under the shadow of which the soul may sit with much complacency and delight. And as he pours out himself very fluently; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: There's no need of Oratory to allure men to it, you need not heap up arguments to convince them of it: No need of an Interpreter to acquaint them with it: No need of the minds spinning, or toiling, or sweeting for the attaining of it; it grows spontaneously, it bubbles up freely, it shines out cheerfully and pleasantly; it was so visible as that the most infant-age of the world could spell it out, and read it without a Teacher: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; as he goes on, 'twas long extant before Moses was born, long before Aaron rung his golden Bells, before there was a Prophet or a Judge in Israel. Men knew it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. They had a Bible of Gods own printing, they had this Scripture of God within them. By this Candle of the Lord, Adam and Eve discovered their own folly and nakedness; this Candle flamed in Gains conscience, and this Law was proclaimed in his heart with as much terror as 'twas published from Mount Sinai, which filled him with those furious reflections for his unnatural murder. Enoch when he walked with God, walked by this light, by this rule. Noah the Preacher of righteousness took this Law for his text. Nay, you may see some print of this Law upon the hard heart of a Pharaoh, when he cries out, the Lord is righteous, but I and my people have sinned. Hence it was that God when he gave his Law afresh, gave it in such a compendious Brachygraphy; he wrote it as 'twere in Characters, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 without any explication, or amplification at all. He only enjoined it with an Imperatorious brevity, he knows there was enough in the breasts of men to convince them of it, and to comment upon it, only in the second Command there is added an enforcement, because his people were excessively prone to the violation of it; and in that of the Sabbath there is given an exposition of it, because in all its circumstances it was not founded in Natural Light. So that in Plutarch's language the Decalogue would be called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Gold in the lump, whereas other Lawgivers use to beat it thinner. Of this Law as 'tis printed by Nature, Philo speaks very excellently; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Right Reason (says he) is that fixed and unshaken Law, not writ in perishing paper by the hand or pen of a creature, nor graven like a dead letter upon liveless and decaying Pillars, but written with the point of a Diamond, nay with the finger of God himself in the heart of man; a Deity gave it an Imprimatur; and an eternal Spirit graved it in an immortal mind. So as that I may borrow the expression of the Apostle, the mind of man is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And I take it in the very same sense as 'tis to be took of the Church; 'Tis a Pillar of this Truth not to support it, but to hold it forth. Neither must I let slip a passage in Plutarch which is very near of kin to this of Philo, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. You may take it thus: This Royal Law of Nature was never shut up in a paper-prison, was never confined or limited to any outward surface; but it was bravely situated in the Centre of a Rational Being, always keeping the Soul company, guarding it, and guiding it; Ruling all its Subjects, (every obedient Action) with a Sceptre of Gold, and crushing in pieces all its enemies (breaking every rebellious Action) with a Rod of Iron. You may hear the Lyric singing out the praises of this Law in a very lofty strain; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; This Law which is the Queen of Angelical and humane Being's does so rule and dispose of them, as to bring about Justice, with a most high and powerful, and yet with a most soft and delicate hand.  
You may hear Plato excellently discoursing of it, whilst he brings in a Sophister disputing against Socrates, and such a one as would needs undertake to maintain this Principle, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. That there was an untunable antipathy between Nature and Law; that Laws were nothing but hominum infirmiorum commenta; that this was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the most bright and eminent Justice of Nature, for men to rule according to Power, and according to no other Law: that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; that all other Laws were 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: Nay, he calls them cheat and bewitchings, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they come (says he) like pleasant songs, when as they are mere charms and incantations. But Socrates after he had stung this same Callicles with a few quick Interrogations, pours out presently a great deal of honey and sweetness, and plentifully shows that most pleasant and conspiring harmony that is between Nature and Law. That there's nothing more 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 than a Law, that Law is founded in Nature, that it is for the maintaining and ennobling and perfecting of Nature. Nay, as Plato tells us elsewhere, There's no way for men to happiness, unless they follow, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; these steps of Reason, these footsteps of Nature. This same Law Aristotle does more than once acknowledge, when he tells us of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; a Positive Law with him is a more private Law, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; but Nature's Law is a more public and Catholic Law, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which he proves to be a very Sovereign and commanding Law, for thus he says, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The Law that is most filled with Reason must needs be most victorious and triumphant.  
The same Philosopher in his tenth Book De Rep. has another distinction of Laws; one branch whereof does plainly reach to the Law of Nature.  
There are, says he, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which are the same with those which he called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 before, and then there are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which are all one with that he styled before 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Now, as he speaks, these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Laws of the first magnitude, of a Nobler Sphere, of a vaster and purer influence. Where you see also that he calls the Law of Nature, the Moral Law; and the same which the Apostle calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he with the rest of the Heathen calls it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, couching the same sense in a seeming contradiction.  
The Orator has it expressly; Non scripta, sed nata lex.  
And amongst all the Heathen, I can meet with none that draws such a lively portraiture of the law of Nature as that Noble Orator does.  
You may hear him thus pleading for it: Nec si regnante Tarquinio nulla erat scripta lex de stupris, etc. Grant, (says he) that Rome were not for the present furnished with a Positive Law able to check the lust and violence of a Tarquin; yet there was a Virgin-law of Nature, which he had also ravished and deflowered: there was the beaming out of an eternal Law, enough to revive a modest Lucretia, and to strike terror into the heart of so licentious a Prince: for as he goes on, Est quidem vera lex Recta Ratio, Naturae congruens, diffusa in omnes, constans, sempiterna; quae vocet ad officium jubendo, vetando à fraude deterreat; quae tamen Probos, neque frustrà, jubet aut vetat, nec improbos jubendo aut vetando movet. Hinc Legi nec Propagari fas est, neque derogari ex hac aliquid licet. Neque tota abrogari potest. Nec verò aut per Senatum, aut per Populum solvi hac Loge possumus. Neque est quaerendus explanator, aut interpres ejus alius. Non erat alia Romae, alia Athenis: Alia nunc, alia posthac: sed & omnes gentes, omnitempore, una Lex, & sempiterna & immutabilis continebit, unúsque erit quasi communis magister & Legislator omnium Deus: Ille Legis hujus Inventor, Disceptator, Lator; Cui qui non parebit ipse se fugiet, & Naturam hominis aspernabitur; Hoc ipso licet maximas poenas, etiamsicaetera, quae putantur, effugerit.  
His meaning is not much different from this:  
Right Reason is a beautiful Law; a Law of a pure complexion, of a natural colour, of a vast extent and diffusion; its colour never fades, never dies. It encourages men in obedience with a smile, it chides them and frowns them out of wickedness. Good men hear the least whispering of its pleasant voice, they observe the least glance of its lovely eye; but wicked men sometimes will not hear it though it come to them in thunder; nor take the least notice of it, though it should flash out in lightning. None must enlarge the Phylacteries of this law, nor must any dare to prune off the least branch of it. Nay the malice of man cannot totally deface so indelible a beauty. No Pope, nor Prince, nor Parliament, nor People, nor Angel, nor Creature can absolve you from it. This Law never paints its face, it never changes its colour, it does not put on one Aspect at Athens and another face at Rome, but looks upon all Nations & persons with an impartial eye, it shines upon all ages and times, and conditions, with a perpetual light, it is yesterday and to day, the same for ever. There is but one Lawgiver, one Lord and supreme Judge of this Law, God blessed for evermore. He was the contriver of it, the commander of it, the publisher of it, and none can be exempted from it, unless he will be banished from his own essence, and be excommunicated from humane Nature.  
This punishment would have sting enough, if he should avoid a thousand more that are due to so foul a transgression.  
Thus you see that the Heathen, not only had this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 upon them; but also they themselves took special notice of it, and the more refined sort amongst them, could discourse very admirably about it, which must needs leave them the more inexcusable, for the violation of it. We come now to see where the strength of the Law of Nature lies, where its nerves are, where it has such an efficacious influence, such a binding virtue.  
And I find Vasquez somewhat singular, and withal erroneous in his opinion, whilst he goes about to show that the formality of this Law consists only in that harmony and proportion, or else that discord and disconvenience, which such and such an object, and such and such an action has with a Rational Nature; for, says he, every Essence is Mensura Boni & Mali in respect of itself.  
Which, as he thinks, is plainly manifested and discovered also in corporal beings, which use to fly only from such things as are destructive to their own forms, and to embrace all such neighbourly and friendly beings as will close and comply with them. But he might easily have known that as these material beings were never yet so honoured, as to be judged capable of a Law; so neither can any naked Essence, though never so pure and noble, lay a Moral engagement upon itself, or bind its own being: for this would make the very same being superior to itself, as it gives a Law, and inferior to itself, as it must obey it.  
So that the most high and Sovereign being even God himself, does not subject himself to any Law; though there be some Actions also most agreeable to his Nature, and others plainly inconsistent with it, yet they cannot amount to such a power, as to lay any obligation upon him, which should in the least Notion differ from the liberty of his own essence.  
Thus also in the Commonwealth of humane Nature, that proportion which Actions bear to Reason, is indeed a sufficient foundation for a Law to build upon; but it is not the Law itself, nor a formal obligation.  
Yet some of the Schoolmen are extreme bold and vain in their suppositions; so bold, as that I am ready to question whether it be best to repeat them; yet thus they say,  
Si Deus non esset, vel si non uteretur Ratione, vel si non rectè judicaret de Rebus, si tamen in homine idem esset dictamen Rectaerationis, quod nunc est, haberet etiam eandem Rationem Legis quam nunc habet.  
But what are the goodly spoils that these men expect, if they could break through such a crowd of Repugnancies and impossibilities? the whole result and product of it will prove but a mere Cipher, for Reason as 'tis now does not bind in its own name, but in the name of its supreme Lord and Sovereign, by whom Reason lives, and moves, and has its being.  
For if only a creature should bind itself to the observation of this Law, it must also inflict upon itself such a punishment as is answerable to the violation of it: but no such being would be willing or able to punish itself in so high a measure as such a transgression would meritoriously require; so that it must be accountable to some other Legislative power, which will vindicate its own commands, and will by this means engage a Creature, to be more mindful of its own happiness, than otherwise it would be.  
For though some of the Gallanter Heathen can brave it out sometimes in an expression; that the very turpitude of such an action is punishment enough, and the very beauty of goodness is an abundant reward and compensation; yet we see that all this, and more than this, did not efficaciously prevail with them for their due conformity and full obedience to Nature's Law; such a single cord as this, will be easily broken.  
Yet there is some truth in what they say, for thus much is visible and apparent, that there is such a Magnetical power in some good, as must needs allure and attract a Rational Being; there is such a native fairness, such an intrinsical loveliness in some objects as does not depend upon an external command, but by its own worth must needs win upon the Soul: and there is such an inseparable deformity and malignity in some evil, as that Reason must needs loathe it and abominate it.  
Insomuch as that if there were no Law or Command, yet a Rational being of its own accord, out of mere love would espouse itself to such an amiable good, 'twould clasp and twine about such a precious object, and if there were not the least check or prohibition, yet in order to its own welfare, 'twould abhor and fly from some black evils, that spit out so much venom against its Nature.  
This is that which the Schoolmen mean, when they tell us, Quaedam sunt mala, quia prohibentur; sed alia prohibentur, quia sunt mala: that is, in Positive Laws, whether Divine, or Humane; Acts are to be esteemed evil upon this account, because they are forbidden; but in the Law of Nature such an evil was intimately and inevitably an evil, though it should not be forbidden.  
Now that there are such Bona per se, and Mala per se, (as the Schools speak) I shall thus demonstrate: Quod non est Malum per se potuit non prohiberi, for there is no reason imaginable why there should not be a possibility of not prohibiting that which is not absolutely evil, which is in its own nature indifferent.  
But now there are some evils so excessively evil, so intolerably bad, as that they cannot but be forbidden; I shall only name this one; Odium Dei, for a Being to hate the Creator and cause of its being, if it were possible for this not to be forbidden; it were possible for it to be lawful; for Vbi nulla Lex, ibi nulla praevaricatio: Where there's no Law there's no 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; where there's no Rule, there's no Anomaly; if there were no prohibition of this, 'twould not be sin to do it. But that to hate God should not be sin, does involve a whole heap of contradictions; so that this evil is so full of evil, as that it cannot but be forbidden; and therefore is an evil in order of Nature before the Prohibition of it. Besides, as the Philosopher's love to speak, Essentiae rerum sunt immutabiles, Essences neither ebb nor flow, but have in themselves a perpetual Unity and Identity: and all such properties as flow and bubble up from Being's, are constant and unvariable, but if they could be stopped in their motion, yet that state would be violent, and not at all connatural to such a subject.  
So that grant only the being of man, and you cannot but grant this also; that there is such a constant conveniency and Analogy, which some objects have with its Essence, as that it cannot but incline to them, and that there is such an irreconcilable Disconvenience, such an Eternal Antipathy between it and other objects, as that it must cease to be what it is before it can come near them.  
This Suarez terms a Natural Obligation, and a just foundation for a Law; but now before all this can rise up to the height and perfection of a Law: there must come a Command from some Superior Powers, from whence will spring a Moral obligation also, and make up the formality of a Law.  
Therefore God himself, for the brightening of his own Glory, for the better regulating and tuning of the world; for the maintaining of such a choice piece of his workmanship as man is, has published this his Royal command, and proclaimed it by that Principle of Reason, which he has planted in the being of man: which does fully convince him of the righteousness, and goodness, and necessity of this Law, for the materials of it; and of the validity and authority of this Law, as it comes from the mind and will of his Creator. Neither is it any eclipse or diminution of the Liberty of that first being; to say that there is some evil so foul and ill-favoured, as that it cannot but be forbidden by him; and that there is some good so fair and eminent, as that he cannot but command it.  
For, as the Schoolmen observe, Divina voluntas, licèt simpliciter libera sit ad extra, ex suppositione tamen unius, Actûs liberi, potest necessitari ad alium.  
Though the will of God be completely free in respect of all his looks and glances towards the Creature, yet notwithstanding upon the voluntary and free precedency of one Act, we may justly conceive him necessitated to another, by virtue of that indissoluble connexion and concatenation between these two Acts, which does in a manner knit and unite them into one.  
Thus God has an absolute liberty and choice, whether he will make a promise or no, but if he has made it, he cannot but fulfil it. Thus he is perfectly free, whether he will reveal his mind or no, but if he will reveal it, he cannot but speak truth, and manifest it as it is.  
God had the very same liberty whether he would create a world or no, but if he will create it, and keep it in its comeliness and proportion, he must then have a vigilant and providential eye over it; and if he will provide for it, he cannot but have a perfect and indefective Providence agreeable to his own wisdom, and goodness, and being, so that if he will create such a being as Man; such a Rational Creature furnished with sufficient knowledge to discern between some good and evil; and if he will supply it with a proportionable concourse in its operations; he cannot then but prohibit such acts as are intrinsically prejudicial and detrimental to the being of it; neither can he but command such acts as are necessary to its preservation and welfare.  
God therefore when from all eternity in his own glorious Thoughts he contrived the being of man, he did also with his piercing eye see into all conveniences and disconveniences, which would be in reference to such a being; and by his eternal Law did restrain and determine it to such acts as should be advantageous to it, which in his wise Oeconomy and dispensation, he published to man by the voice of Reason, by the Mediation of this Natural Law.  
Whence it is that every violation of this Law, is not only an injury to man's being, but ultra nativam rei malitiam, (as the Schools speak) 'tis also a virtual and interpretative contempt of that supreme Lawgiver, who out of so much wisdom, love, and goodness did thus bind man to his own happiness.  
So much then as man does start aside and Apostatise from this Law, to so much misery and punishment does he expose himself.  
Though it be not necessary that the Candle of nature should discover the full extent and measure of that punishment which is due to the breakers of this Law, for to the Nature of punishment, non requiritur ut praecognita sit poena, sed ut fiat actus Dignus tali poenâ. The Lawyers and the Schoolmen both will acknowledge this Principle.  
For as Suarez has it, Sequitur reatus ex intrinseca conditione culpae, Ità ut licèt poena per Legem non sit determinata, Arbitrio tamen competentis judicis puniri possit. Yet the Light of Nature will reveal and disclose thus much: That a being totally dependent upon another, essentially subordinate and subject to it, must also be accountable to it for every provocation and rebellion: And for the violation of so good a Law, which he has set it, and for the sinning against such admirable Providence and justice as shines out upon it; must be liable to such a punishment, as that glorious Lawgiver shall judge fit for such an offence; who is so full of justice, as that he cannot, and so great in goodness, as that he will not punish a Creature above its desert.   

CHAP. VII.  
The Extent of the Law of Nature.  
THere are stamped and printed upon the being of man, some clear and undelible Principles, some first and Alphabetical Notions; by putting together of which it can spell out the Law of Nature.  
There's scattered in the Soul of Man some seeds of light, which fill it with a vigorous pregnancy, with a multiplying fruitfulness, so that it brings forth a numerous and sparkling posterity of secondary Notions, which make for the crowning and encompassing of the Soul with happiness.  
All the fresh springs of Common and Fountain-Notions are in the Soul of Man, for the watering of his Essence, for the refreshing of this heavenly Plant, this Arbour inversa, this enclosed being, this Garden of God.  
And though the wickedness of man may stop the pleasant motion, the clearand Crystalline progress of the Fountain, yet they cannot hinder the first risings, the bubbling endeavours of it. They may pull off Nature's leaves, and pluck off her fruit, and chop off her branches, but yet the root of it is eternal, the foundation of it is inviolable.  
Now these first and Radical Principles are wound up in some such short bottoms as these: Bonum est appetendum, malum est fugiendum; Beatitudo est quaerenda; Quod tibi fieri non vis, alteri nè feceris. And Reason thus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, incubando super haec ova, by warming and brooding upon these first and oval Principles of her own laying, it being itself quickened with an heavenly vigour, does thus hatch the Law of Nature.  
For you must not, nor cannot think that Nature's Law is confined and contracted within the compass of two or three common Notions, but Reason as with one foot it fixes a Centre, so with the other it measures and spreads out a circumference, it draws several conclusions, which do all meet and crowd into these first, and Central Principles. As in those Noble Mathematical Sciences there are, not only some first 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which are granted as soon as they are asked, if not before; but there are also whole heaps of firm and immovable Demonstrations, that are built upon them. In the very same manner, Nature has some Postulata, some 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which Seneca renders praesumptiones, which others call Anticipationes Animi,) which she knows a Rational being will presently and willingly yield unto; and therefore by virtue of these it does engage and oblige it, to all such commands as shall by just result, by genuine production, by kindly and evident derivation flow from these.  
For men must not only look upon the capital letters of this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but they must read the whole context, and coherence of it; they must look to every jot and Apex of it, for heaven and earth shall sooner pass away, than one jot or title of this Law shall vanish.  
They must not only gaze upon two or three Principles of the first Magnitude, but they must take notice of the lesser Celestial Sporades, for these also have their light and influence.  
They must not only skim off the Cream of first Principles, but whatsoever sweetness comes streaming from the Dug of Nature, they must feed upon it, they may be nourished with it.  
Reason does not only crop off the tops of first Notions, but does so gather all the flowers in Nature's Garden, as that it can bind them together in a pleasant posy, for the refreshment of itself and others.  
Thus as a noble Author of our own does well observe, Tota ferè Ethica est Notitia communis: All Morality is nothing but a collection and bundling up of natural Precepts. The Moralists did but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, enlarge the fringes of Nature's garment; they are so many Commentators and Expositors upon Natures Law. This was his meaning that styled Moral Philosophy, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that Philosophy which is for the maintaining and edifying of humane nature. Thus Nature's Law is frequently called the Moral Law. But the Schoolmen in their rougher language make these several ranks and distributions of natural Precepts. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. First, there come in the front Principia Generalia, (as some call them) per se Nota; ut Honestum est faciendum; Pravum vitandum. Then follow next Principia Particularia, & magis determinata; ut justitia est servanda; Deus est colendus; vivendum est Temperate. At length come up in the rear, conclusiones evidenter illatae, quae tamen cognosci nequeunt nisi per discursum; ut Mendacium, furtum, & similia prava esse.  
These, though they may seem somewhat more remote, yet being fetched from clear and unquestionable premises, they have Natures Seal upon them; and are thus far sacred, so as to have the usual privilege of a Conclusion, to be untouched and undeniable.  
For though that learned Author, whom I mentioned not long before, do justly take notice of this, that discourse is the usual inlet to Error, and too often gives an open admission, and courteous entertainment to such falsities, as come disguised in a Syllogistical form, which by their Sequacious windings and Gradual insinuations, twine about some weak understandings: yet in the nature of the thing itself, 'tis as impossible to collect an Error out of a Truth, as 'tis to gather the blackest night out of the fairest Sunshine, or the foulest wickedness out of the purest goodness. A Conclusion therefore that's built upon the Sand, you may very well expect its fall, but that which is built upon the Rock is impregnable and immovable; for if the Law of Nature should not extend itself so far, as to oblige men to an accurate observation of that, which is a remoov or two distant from first Principles, 'twould then prove extremely defective in some such Precepts as do most intimately and intensely conduce to the welfare and advantage of an Intellectual being.  
And these first Notions would be most barren inefficacious speculations, unless they did thus increase and multiply, and bring forth fruit with the blessing of heaven upon them.  
So that there is a necessary connexion, and concatenation between first Principles, and such Conclusions. For as Suarez has it, Veritas Principii continetur in conclusione: so that he that questions the Conclusion, must needs also strike at the Principle. Nay, if we look to the notion of a Law, there is more of that to be seen in these more particular determinations, then in those more Universal notions; for Lex est proxima Regula operationum. But now particulars are nearer to existence and operation then universals: and in this respect do more immediately steer and direct the motions of such a being. The one is the bending of the bow, but the other is the shooting of the Arrow.  
Suarez does fully determine this in such words as these, Haec omnia Praecepta (he means both Principles and Conclusions) prodeunt à Deo Auctore Naturae, & tendunt ad eundem finem, nimirum ad debitam conservationem, & Naturalem perfectionem, seu foelicitatem Humanae Naturae.  
This Law of Nature as it is thus branched forth, does bind in foro Conscientiae; for as that noble Author, (whom I more than once commended before) speaks very well in this; Natural Conscience 'tis Centrum Notitiarum Communium, and 'tis a kind of Sensus Communis in respect of the inward faculties, as that other is in respect of the outward Senses. 'Tis a competent Judge of this Law of Nature: 'tis the Natural Pulse of the Soul, by the beating and motion of which the state and temper of men is discernible. The Apostle Paul thus felt the Heathens pulse, and found their consciences sometimes accusing them, sometimes making Apology for them. Yet there's a great deal of difference between Natural Conscience, and the Law of Nature; for (as the Schoolmen speak) Conscience, 'tis Dictamen Practicum in Particulari; 'tis a prosecution and application of this Natural Law, as Providence is of that Eternal Law.  
Nay, Conscience sometimes does embrace only the shadow of a Law, and does engage men though erroneously to the observation of that which was never dictated by any just Legislative power. Nor is itcontent to glance only at what's to come, but Janus-like it has a double aspect, and so looks back to what's past, as to call men to a strict account for every violation of this Law.  
Which Law is so accurate as to oblige men not only add Actum, but ad modum also: it looks as well to the inward form and manner, as to the materiality and bulk of outward actions: for every being owes thus much kindness and courtesy to itself, not only to put forth such acts as are essential and intrinsecal to its own welfare; but also to delight in them, and to fulsil them with all possible freeness and alacrity, with the greatest intenseness and complacency. Self-love alone might easily constrain men to this natural obedience. Humane Laws indeed rest satisfied with a visible and external obedience; but Nature's Law darts itself into the most intimate Essentials, and looks for entertainment there.  
You know that amongst the Moralists only such acts are esteemed Actus Humani that are Actus Voluntarii. When Nature has tuned a Rational Being, she expects that every string, every faculty should spontaneously and cheerfully sound forth his praise.  
And the God of Nature that has not chained, nor fettered, nor enslaved such a Creature, but has given it a competent liberty and enlargement; the free diffusion and amplification of its own Essence; he looks withal that it should willingly consent to its own happiness, and to all such means as are necessary for the accomplishment of its choicest end: and that it should totally abhor whatsoever is destructive and prejudicial to its own being; which if it do, 'twill presently embrace the Law of Nature, if it either love its God or itself; the command of its God, or the welfare of itself.  
Nay, the precepts of this natural Law are so potent and triumphant, as that some acts which rebel against it, become not only Illiciti, but Irriti, as both the Schoolmen and Lawyers observe: they are not only irregularities, but mere nullities: and that either ob defectum Potestatis & Incapacitatem Materiae, as if one should go about to give the same thing to two several Persons, the second Donation is a Moral Nonentity: or else Propter Perpetuam rei indecentiam, & Turpitudinem Durantem; as in some Anomalous and incestuous marriages. And this Law of Nature is so exact, as that 'tis not capable of an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which the Lawyers call Emendatio Legis: but there is no mending of Essences, nor of Essential Laws, both which consist in Puncto, in indivisibili, and so cannot Recipere magis & minús: nor is there any need of it, for in this Law there's no rigour at all, 'tis pure equity, and so nothing is to be abated of it. Neither does it depend only à ment Legislatoris, which is the usual Rise of Mitigation; but 'tis conversant about such acts as are Per see tales, most intrinsically and inseparably.  
Yet notwithstanding this Law does not refuse an Interpretation, but Nature herself does gloss upon her own Law, as in what circumstances such an Act is to be esteemed murder, and when not; and so in many other branches of Nature's Law, if there be any appearance of Intricacy, any seeming knot and difficulty, Nature has given edge enough to cut it asunder.  
There is another Law bordering upon this Law of Nature, Jus Gentium, Juri Naturali Propinquum & consanguineum; and 'tis Medium quoddam, inter Jus Naturale & Jus civil. Now this Jus Gentium is either per similitudinem & concomitantiam, when several Nations in their distinct conditions have yet some of the same positive Laws: or else (which indeed is most properly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) Per communicationem & Societatém, which, as the learned Grotius describes, Ab omnium, vel multarum gentium voluntate vim obligandi accepit: that is, when all or many of the most refined Nations bunching and clustering together, do bind themselves by general compact, to the observation of such Laws, as they judge to be for the good of them all. As the honourable entertainment of an Ambassador, or such like.  
So that 'tis Jus humanum, non scriptum. 'Tis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. For as Justinian tells us, Vsu exigente, & Humanis necessitatibus, Gentes humanae quaedam sibi jura constituerunt. Whereas other humane Laws have a narrower sphere and compass, and are limited to such a state, which the Orator styles, Leges populares, the Hebrews call their positive Law's 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, sometimes 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, though the one do more properly point at Ceremonials, the other at Judicials; The Septuagint render them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, some others call them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as they call natural Laws 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which the Hellenists render 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. But according to the Greek Idiom, these are termed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the others 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Now, though the formality of humane Laws do flow immediately from the power of some particular men; yet the strength and sinew of these Laws is founded in the Law of Nature; for Nature does permissively give them leave to make such Laws as are for their greater convenience; and when they are made, and whilst they are in their force and vigour, it does oblige and command them not to break or violate them: for they are not to contradict their own Acts, nor to oppose such commands, as ex Pacto were framed and constituted by themselves.  
Thus much for the Law of Nature in general. We must look in the next place, to that Lumen Naturae, that Candle of the Lord by which this Law of Nature is manifested and discovered.   

CHAP. VIII.  
How the Law of Nature is discovered? not by Tradition, nor an Intellectus agens.  
GOD having contrived such an admirable and harmonious Law for the guiding and governing of his Creature, you cannot doubt but that he will also provide sufficient means for the discovery and publishing of it; Promulgation being prerequired as a necessary condition before a Law can be valid and vigorous. To this end therefore he has set up an Intellectual Lamp in the soul, by the light of which it can read this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and can follow the commands of its Creator.  
The Schoolmen with full and general consent understand that place of the Psalmist of this Lumen Naturale, and many other Authors follow them in this too securely. Nay, some Critical writers quote them, and yet never chide them for it. The words are these, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Eleva super nos lumen vultûs tui: but yet they, very ignorantly, though very confidently render them; Signatum est super nos lumen vultûs tui: and they do as erroneously interpret it of the light of Reason, which (say they) is Signaculum quoddam, & impressio increatae lucis in Anima. So much indeed is true, but it is far from being an Exposition of this place. Yet perhaps the Septuagint misled them, who thus translate it; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; but Aquila, that had a quicker eye here, renders it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and Symmachus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
The words are plainly put up in the form of a Petition to heaven, for some smiles of love, for some propitious and favourable glances, for God's gracious presence and acceptance. And they amount to this sense; If one Sun do but shine upon me, I shall have more joy, than worldlings have, when all their Stars appear.  
But to let these pass with the Errors of their vulgar Latin; I meet with one more remarkable and of larger influence; I mean that of the Jews, who (as that worthy Author of our own in his learned book De Jure Naturali secundùm Hebraeos makes the report) do imagine and suppose that the light of Nature shines only upon themselves originally and principally, and upon the Gentiles only by way of Participation and dependence upon them: They all must light their candles at the Jewish Lamp. Thus they strive as much as they can to engross and monopolise this natural light to themselves; only it may be sometimes out of their great liberality they will distribute some broken beams of it to the Gentiles. As if these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 these Praecepta Noachidarum had been locked up and cabinetted in Noah's Ark, and afterwards kept from the profane touch of a Gentile: as if they had been part of that bread, which our Saviour said was not to be cast unto dogs; and therefore they would make them be glad to eat of the crumbs that fall from their master's table. As if they only enjoyed a Goshen of Natural light, and all the rest of the world were benighted in most palpable and unavoidable darkness; as if this Sun shined only upon Canaan; as if Canaan only flowed with this milk and honey; as if no drops of heaven could fall upon a Wilderness, unless an Israelite be there; As if they had the whole impression of Nature's Law; as if God had not dealt thus with every Nation; as if the Heathen also had not the knowledge of this Law. 'Tis true, they had the first beauty of the rising Sun, the first peepings out of the day, the first dawnings of natural light; for there were no other that it could then shine upon: but do they mean to check the Sun in its motion, to stop this Glant in his race, to hinder him from scattering rays of light in the world? Do they think that Nature's Fountain is enclosed, that her Well is sealed up, that a Jew must only 〈◊〉 of it, and a Gentile must die for thirst? O but they tell you they are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a Darling, and peculiar Nation.  
We shall fully acknowledge with the Hebrew of Hebrews, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, though not in respect of natural light, which doubtless is planted by Nature in the heart both of Jew and Gentile, and shines upon both with an equal and impartial beam. And yet this must not be denied, that the Jews had even these Natural notions much clarified & refined from those clouds and mists which 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Original sin had brought upon them, and this by means of that pure and powerful beam of heavenly truth which shined more peculiarly upon them; those Laws which Nature had engraven 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 upon the tables of their hearts, sin like a moth had eaten and defaced (as in all other men it had done) but in them those fugitive letters were called home again, and those many Lacunae were supplied and made good again by comparing it with that other Copy (of Gods own writing too) which Moses received in the Mount; and besides, they had a great number of revealed truths discovered to them, which were engrafted indeed upon the stock of Nature, but would never have grown out of it: so that this second Edition was Auctior also, as well as Emendatior; but yet for all this they have no greater a portion of the light of Nature than all men have. Thus Christians also are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and yet in respect of their natural condition, have no more than others.  
Now if the Jews have so many privileges, why are not they content, why do not they rest satisfied with them? Why will they thus be claiming and arrogating more than their due?  
Are they the firstborn, and have they a double portion, and do ●●ey envy their younger brethren, their birth and being? Have they a bright and eminent Sunshine, and do they envy a Gentile the Candle of the Lord?  
No (as that learned Author tells us) they will grant that the Gentiles had their Candle, and their Torch, but it was lighted at the Jews Sun. They may have some bottles of water to quench their thirst, but they must be filled at their streams, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, ex fluentis Hebraicis.  
But truly, if they were at their disposing, there be some that will question, whether they would let them sip at their fountain or no; whether they would let them light a Candle with them or no. Yes (may some say) Pythagoras lighted his Candle there, and Plato lighted his Candle at theirs.  
But what did they borrow common Notions of them? did they borrow any Copies of Nature's Law from them? was this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, only some Jewish Manu-script, which they translated into Greek? Can Pythagoras know nothing, unless by a present 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a Jews soul come and inform him? That Pythagoras should be circumcised by the persuasion of the Jews is not impossible; but that he could not know how to ●orbid Blasphemy, without the Jews teachings, deserves a good argument to prove it.  
If they will but attend to Pythagoras himself, they shall hear him resolving these first Notions of his and others, into Nature's bounty, and not into the Jews courtesy; for thus he sings;— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And Hierocles in his Comment (which is as golden as Pythagoras his Verses) does thus paraphrase upon his meaning, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And these Principles which he does call here 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he does not long after stile 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Then as for Plato, to be sure he'll tell them, that he has connate Species of his own, for which he was never beholding to the Jews. He'll tell them, that he has many Spermatical Notions, that were never of their sowing; Many vigilant sparks that were never of their striking or kindling. He'll but set his Reminiscence a-work, and will visit his old acquaintance, recall many ancient truths, that are now slipped out of his memory, and have been too long absent.  
And surely Aristotle never thought that his Rasa Tabula, could have nothing printed upon it, till a Jew gave it an Imprimatur, he little imagined that the Motion of his Soul depended upon these Oriental Intelligences.  
Therefore if they please they may spare that pretty story of theirs, which that learned Author, whom I have so often commended, does acquaint us with, but yet withal esteems it fabulous of Simeon the just, the High Priest reading of Lectures to Aristotle a little before his death, of the immortality of the soul, and the reward and punishment which are reserved for another life: and that so powerfully, as that he convinced him, and converted him.  
But certainly that brave Philosopher could easily spy out immortality stamped upon his own soul, though such a Monitor had been absent, and did know long before that time by the improvement of his own intellectuals, that he must give an account of his being and operations to his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
What means then that voice of the Oracle;  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Truly the Oracle here is not so obscure, but that you may easily perceive that by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it did not mean Intelligentia, which is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but only Sapientia, which is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Now why they had more of this, the Apostle will give you the best account of it; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, because they had a better Oracle to consult withal, than this was.  
Yet surely neither Jew nor Gentile need go to an Oracle to inquire of common Notions. But in respect of these that Anonymous Author of the life of Pythagoras speaks an unquestionable truth; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; that is the Athenians had not an Adventitious and Precarious kind of knowledge; but that Nature which gave them a Being, gave them Education also; As her womb bore them, so her breasts gave them suck; As they were 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, so likewise 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
But you shall hear a bragging and doting Egyptian telling you, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The Greeks were always boys in knowledge. Grant that they were children; yet cannot they suck at Nature's dug? Cannot they read Nature's Alphabet, unless a Jew come with his fescue and teach them?  
Howe'er, the Egyptian has little Reason to triumph, for to be sure, if there be any light in Egypt more than this of Nature, they may thank Israelites for it: if there be any corn in Egypt, they may thank a Joseph for providing of it. These, if any, lighted their Candles at the Israelites, and received more precious jewels from them, than ever they were robbed of by them.  
This indeed must be granted that the whole generality of the Heathen went a gleaning in the Jewish fields. They had some of their grapes, some ears of corn that dropped from them. Pythagoras and Plato especially were such notable gleaners, as that they stole out of the very sheaves, out of those truths that are bound up in the sacred volume▪ Yet all this while they ne'er stole first Principles, nor demonstrations; but they had them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and needed not to take such a long journey for them.  
Give then unto the Jew the things of the Jews, and to the Gentile, the things that are the Gentiles, and that which God has made common, call not thou peculiar. The Apostle Paul's question is here very seasonable, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
There was never any partition-wall between the Essence of Jew and Gentile: Now the Law of Nature 'tis founded in Essentials. And that which is disconvenient to that Rational Nature which is in a Jew, is as opposite and disagreeable to the same Nature in a Gentile; as that good which is suitable and proportionable to a Jew in his Rational being, is every way as intrinsecal to the welfare of a Gentile▪ that does not differ essentially from him. So likewise for the Promulgation of this Law, being it does equally concern them both, and equally oblige them both; it is also by Nature equally published and manifested to them both. So that what the Apostle speaks in respect of the freeness of Evangelistical light, we may say the very same in respect of the commonness of natural light: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but all these are one in respect of Nature, and nature's Law, and natures Light.   

CHAP. IX.  
The Light of Reason.  
THis law of Nature having a firm and unshaken foundation in the necessity and conveniency of its materials, becomes formally valid and vigorous by the mind and command of the Suprem● Lawgiver; So as that all the strength and nerves, and binding virtue of this Law are ●ooted and fastened partly in the excellency and equity of the commands themselves, but they principally depend upon the Sovereignty and Authority of God himself: thus contriving and commanding the welfare of his Creature, and advancing a Rational Nature to the just perfection of its being. This is the rise and original of all that obligation which is in the Law of Nature. But the publishing and manifestation of this Law which must give notice of all this, does flow from that heavenly beam which God has darted into the soul of man; from the Candle of the Lord, which God has lighted up for the discovery of his own Laws; from that intellectual eye which God has framed and made exactly proportionable to this Light.  
Therefore we shall easily grant that the obligation of this Law does not come from this Candle of the Lord; and others I suppose will not deny that the Manifestation of this Law does come from this Candle of the Lord, that the Promulgation of this Law is made by the voice of Reason.  
In order of Nature, this Law, as all others, must be made, before it can be made known, Entity being the just Root and bottom of Intelligibility. So that Reason does not facere or far legem, but only invenire, as a Candle does not produce an object, but only present it to the eye, and make it visible. All verity 'tis but the gloss of Entity, there's a loving Union and Communion between them, as soon as being is it may be known.  
So that Reason is the Pen by which Nature writes this Law of her own composing; This Law 'tis published by Authority from heaven, and Reason is the Printer: This eye of the soul 'tis to spy out all dangers and all advantages, all conveniences and disconveniences in reference to such a being, and to warn the soul in the name of its Creator, to fly from such irregularities as have an intrinsical and implacable malice in them, and are prejudicial and destructive to its Nature, but to comply with, and embrace all such acts and objects as have a native comeliness and amiableness, and are for the heightening and ennobling of its being.  
Hierocles does most excellently set forth this, whilst he brings that golden Verse of Pythagoras to the Touchstone; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and does thus brighten it, and display it in its full glory, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; his meaning's this: There is a kind of Canon-Law in the essences of men, and a Rational tuning all its faculties according to those lessons which Nature has set; it does 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, with a most grateful and harmonious life, pleases both itself and others. So whilst he weighs that other golden verse in the Balance, he speaks very high. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; he gives us this learned account of it; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; which I may thus render; To obey right Reason, 'tis to be persuaded by God himself; who has furnished and adorned a Rational Nature with this intrinsical and essential Lamp, that shines upon it, and guides it in the ways of God, so as that the soul and its Creator become perfect Unisons, and being blest with the light of his countenance, it steers all its motions and actions with much security and happiness. But if this Lamp of Reason be darkened and obscured, the soul presently embraces a Cloud, and courts a Shadow; the blackest and most palpable Atheism and wickedness must needs cover the face of that soul, that starts back and apostatises from its God and its Reason. Where you cannot but take notice that he calls the light of Reason 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which is an expression very parallel to this of Solomon, the Candle of the Lord.  
That wise Heathen Socrates was of the very same mind, in whose mouth that speech was so frequent and usual, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; 'Tis in vain to trust any thing but that which Reason tells you has the Seal of God upon it. Thus that Heathen Orator very fully and emphatically; Nos Legem bonam à Mala nullâ aliâ nisi Naturali norm● dividere possumus; Nec solùm Jus & Injuria à Natura dijudicantur, sed omnino omnia honesta & Turpia. Name & communis Intelligentia nobis Res not as efficit, ea quae in animis nostris inchoavit, ut Honesta in virtute ponantur, in vitiis Turpia; That is, Nature has distinguished good from evil, by these indelible stamps and impressions which she has graven upon both; and has set Reason as a competent Judge to decide all Moral controversies, which by her first seeds of light plainly discovers an honourable beauty in goodness, and an inseparable Blot in wickedness: hence these three 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are esteemed equivalencies by that Emperor and Philosopher Marcus Antonius. But yet the Jews will by no means yield that there is light enough in the dictates of Reason to display common notions, for they look upon it as a various and unsatisfactory light mixed with much shadow and darkness, labouring with perpetual inconstancy and uncertainty. What are first Principles become so mutable and treacherous? Are Demonstrations such fortuitous and contingent things? had I met with this in a fluctuating Academic, in a Rolling Sceptic, in a Sextus Empiricus, in some famous Professor of doubts, I should then have looked upon it as a tolerable expression of their trembling and shivering opinion. But how come I to find it among those Divers into the depths of knowledge, who grant a certainty, and yet will not grant it to Reason? I would they would tell us then, where we might hope to find it; Surely not in an Oriental Tradition, in a Rabinical dream, in a dusty Manuscript, in a Remnant of Antiquity, in a Bundle of Testimonies; and yet this is all you are like to get of them, for they tell you this story, that these Natural precepts, tum in ipsis rerum initiis, tum in ea quae fuit post diluvium instauratione, Humano generi, ipsà sanctissimâ Numinis voce fuisse imperata, atque ad Posteros per Traditionem solùm inde manâsse; that is, that these commands were proclaimed by the voice of God himself, first to Adam in the first setting out of the world; and then they were repeated to Noah when there was to be a reprinting, and new Edition of the world after the Deluge; and thus were in way of Tradition to be propagated to all posterity. O rare and admirable foundation of Plerophory! O incomparable method and contrivance to find out certainty, to raze out first Principles, to pluck down Demonstrations, to demolish the whole structure and fabric of Reason, and to build upon the word of two or three Hebrew Doctors, that tell you of a voice, and that as confidently, as if they had heard it, and they are entrusted with this voice, they must report and spread it unto others, though they do it like unfaithful Echoes with false and imperfect rebounds.  
This is to tell you that men have no Candle of the Lord within them, but only there must be Traditio Lampadis, a General and Public light, that must go from one hand to another.  
This is to blot out the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to leave out Canonical Scripture, and to give you Apochryphas in the room of it. 'Tis to set a Jew in the chair dictating the Law of Nature, with the very same infallibility, that the Pope promises himself in determining all points of Religion. Therefore some it may be will have recourse to such an Intellectus Agens as must clear up all things. Now this is another Oriental Invention, for those Arabian writers Averro and Avicen, did not look upon the spirit of a man as the Candle of the Lord, but must needs have an Angel to hold the Candle to enlighten men in their choicest operations. Nay, Averro will allow but one Angel to superintend and prompt the whole Species of mankind; yet Zabarel questions whether his bounty will not extend to two, the one for an Intellectus Agens, the other for an Intellectus Patiens. To be sure Averro fancied man as the most imperfect and contemptible being that could be, totally dependant upon an Angel in his most essential workings; the whole sphere of his being was to be moved by an Intelligence.  
He fancied him a Ship steered only by an Angel; he fancied him a Lute that made no music but by the touch of an Angel. It had been well if his Genius would have tuned him a little better. It had been well if his Pilot would have kept him from making shipwreck of Reason. If his Intelligence would but have moved his Head a little more harmoniously. But by this, if he had pleased he might have perceived that there were pluralities and differences of understandings, because there were so few of his mind. Yet Plotinus and Themistius that were his Seniors, had more than a tincture of this Error; and looked upon this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as if it had been Sol quidam incorporeus nulli oriens aut occidens, sed semper & ubique omnibus praesens.  
Which notion Cardan prosecutes so far, as that he falls into this most Prodigious conceit, that this Intellectus Agens does offer its light and assistance to sensitive beings also, but that the churlishness of the matter will not welcome and entertain such pure irradiations, for thus he speaks; Eundem Intellectum etiam belluis imminere, easque ambire: At ipsi non patere Aditum, propter materiae ineptitudinem. Igitur hominem intus irradiare, circum belluas extrinsecùs collucere. Neque aliâ re Hominis Intellectum, ab Intellectu differre belluarum. Idcirco belluas ea omnia habere inchoata, quae in homine perfecta sunt. But Scaliger has sufficiently corrected him for this brutish Tenent; so that I shall need only to add this; Cardan's Intellectus Agens, was so familiar, as that some question whether he were a good Angel or no. Nay, some tell us that he was left him for an inheritance, shut up in a Ring, enclosed in a golden circle, a goodly sphere for an Intelligence to move in. But there were many others also enamoured with this opinion, of an Intellectus Agens; the Platonists were excessively enclinable to it, and were always so much conversant with spirits, which made their Philosophy ever questioned for a touch of Magic. Nay, Scaliger tells us of some others, that will have this Intellectus Agens to be caput & Author consiliorum omnium, the contriver of the rarest and wittiest inventions; the Author of Guns, of Clocks, of Printing, of the Pyxis nautica: Materialem verò Intellectum esse quasi Vsufructuarium, & beneficiarium illius.  
The Jews especially admire and adore the Influence of an Intellectus Agens, and not forgetful of their Primogeniture and privileges, but being always a conceited and a bragging generation, they would fain persuade us that God himself is their Intellectus Agens, but to the Gentiles he sends only an Angel to illuminate them.  
The Jews indeed sometimes call every faculty an Angel, as one of the best amongst them, Maimonides tells us, but yet here they properly mean an Angelical being, distinct and separate from the soul, and just according to Averro Determination, the lowest Intelligence, Ultimus Motor Coelestium. Their own Intellectus Agens they call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the presence and power of God dwelling in the understanding, the influence of it they term 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the forementioned Maimonides observes, that is, a copious and abundant supply of light shining upon the Mind. According to which they understand that place of the Psalmist 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in lumine tuo videbimus lumen; which the Schoolmen more truly expound of the Lumen Gloriae in the Beatifical vision, though it may reach also to that joy and delight which Saints have in communion with God here.  
Amongst fresher and more modern writers, Zabarel is very intense and zealous for this, that God himself is the Intellectus Agens of the soul: but being a most humble and devoted servant of Aristotle, he can by no means quiet and content himself unless he can show the world that his Master was of the same judgement.  
This makes him to suborn two or three Testimonies, or at least to tamper with a place or two; and then bravely to conclude that without doubt 'twas the mind of the Philosopher, which is not only against the whole stream of other Interpreters, but against the known & Orthodox Principles of him that was wiser than to countenance such a vanity.  
It should seem by that eminent writer of our own, that Friar Bacon was of the same mind too, for whose words these are quoted amongst many others, out of an Oxford-Manuscript; Deus respectu animae est sicut Sol respectu Oculi Temporalis, & Angeli sicut stellae. Now what angels they were that this Roger Bacon fixed his eye upon, whether they were not fallen Stars, let others examine. I should think that Cardan's Intellectus Agens and his were both much of the same colour.  
But this you may perceive in him and the rest of the great Pleaders for an Intellectus Agens, that they found all their Arguments in a pretty similitude of an eye, and light, and colours, as if this were some inconquerable Demonstration. Whereas that great Master of subtleties, whom I have more than once named before, has made it appear, that the whole Notion of an Intellectus Agens is a mere fancy and superfluity.  
Yet this may be granted to all the forementioned Authors, and this is the only spark of Truth, that lies almost buried in that heap of Errors; That God himself as he does supply every being, the Motion of every Creature with an intimate and immediate concourse every way answerable to the measure and degree of its Entity; so he does in the same manner constantly assist the Understanding with a proportionable Co-operation. But then as for any such Irradiations upon the soul in which that shall be merely patient: God indeed if he be pleased to reveal himself in a special and extraordinary manner, he may thus shine out upon it, either immediately by his own light, or else drop Angelical influence upon it: but that this should be the natural and ordinary way, necessarily required to Intellectual workings, is extermely prejudicial to such a noble Being as the soul of Man is; to which God gave such bright participations of himself, and stamped his Image upon it, and left it to its own workings, as much as any other created being whatsoever. Nay, as Scaliger does most confidently object it to Cardan, you will not have one Argument left, by which you can evince the Immortality of the soul, if ye shall resoive all the excellency of its being and operations into an Intellectus Agens really distinct from it.  
But then to make this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, only the various aspects and different relations of the same soul, is but a weak and needless device, and if 'twere Aristotle's, to be sure 'twas none of his Masterpieces; for 'tis built upon I know not what Phantasms and false Appearances.  
Whereas those Species and colours, those pictures and representations of being that are set before an Intellectual eye, carry such a light and beauty in themselves as may justly engratiate them with the understanding. And though some tell us that they have too much dross & impurity, that they are too muddy and feculent, not proportionable to the purity of a reasonable soul, yet let them but think of those many strainers they have gone through: those double refinings and clarifying, that they have had from so many percolations: and withal they may know that the understanding can drink in the most pure and flowering part of the Species, and can leave the dregs at the bottom. Have you not thus often seen a seal stamping itself upon the wax, and yet not communicating the least particle of matter, but only leaving a form and impression upon it?  
However, there is as much proportion between these Species and an Intellectus Patiens, as between these and an Intellectus Agens. Nay, there is more proportion between these Species and the understanding, then between the soul and body, which yet are joined and married together in a most loving and conjugal union.   

CHAP. X.  
Of the consent of Nations▪  
THough Natures law be principally proclaimed by the voice of Reason; though it be sufficiently discovered by the Candle of the Lord; yet there is also a secondary and additional way, which contributes no small light to the manifestation of it: I mean the harmony & joint consent of Nations, who though there be no 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 nor 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, no communion, nor commerce, nor compact between them, yet they do tacitly and spontaneously conspire in a dutiful observation of the most radical and fundamental Laws of Nature.  
So that by this pleasant consort of theirs you may know that the same Nature did tune them all. When you see the same prints and impressions upon so many several Nations, you easily perceive that they were stamped eodem communi Sigillo, with the same public Seal. When you see the very same seeds thrown in such different soils, yet all increasing and multiplying, budding and blossoming, branching out and enlarging themselves into some fruitful expressions; you know then that 'twas Nature's hand, her bountiful & successful hand that scattered such Seminal Principles amongst them; you presently know that 'tis no enclosed way, 'tis a Via Regia, in which you meet with so many Travellers, such a concourse and confluence of People.  
Amongst many others, the learned Grotius is full and express for searching out the Law of Nature in this manner.  
You shall hear his own words which he speaks in that excellent work of his, De jure Belli & Pacis: Esse aliquid juris Naturalis probari solet tum ab eo quod Prius est, tum ab eo quod Posterius; quarum probandi Rationum illa subtilior est, haec popularior. A Priori, si ostendatur Rei alicujus convenientia aut disconvenientia Necessaria cum Natura Rationali ac Sociali. A posteriori verò, si non certissimâ side, certè probabiliter admodum juris Naturalis esse colligitur id, quod apud gentes omnes, aut moraliores omnes tale esse creditur. And ●he does annex this reason of it; Vniversalis effectus, Vniversalem requirit causam. When you see such fresh springs and streams of Justice watering several Kingdoms and Nations, you know that they are participations of some rich Fountain, of a vast Ocean. When you see so many Rays of the same light, shooting themselves into the several corners of the world, you presently look up to the Sun; as the glorious original of them all.  
Let me then a little vary that place in the Acts of the Apostles: you may hear every man in his own Language, in his own Dialect, and Idiom speaking the same works of Nature; Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites, and the dwellers in Mesopotamia, and in Judea, and Cappadocia; in Pontus, in Asia, Phrygia, and Pamphylia, in Egypt, and in the parts of Libya about Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews and Proselytes, Cretes and Arabians, you may hear them speak in their Tongues the wonderful works of God and Nature.  
For whatsoever is Natural and Essential is also universal in order to such a Species. The Philosopher speaks to this very pertinently; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; That is, whatsoever is Natural is immovable, and in the same manner perpetually energetical; as fire does not put on one colour amongst the Grecians, and paint its face otherwise amongst the Persians: but it has always the same ruddiness and purity, the same zeal and vehemency.  
As Nature shows choice variety and Needlework in this, in that she works every Individuum with several flourishes, with some singular and distinguishing notes: So likewise she plainly aspires to concord and unity, whilst she knits altogether in a common and specifical identity. Not only in the faces of men, but in their beings also, there is much of Identity, and yet much of variety.  
You do not doubt, but that in all Nations there is an exact likeness and agreement in the fabric and composure of men's bodies in respect of integrals, excepting a few Monsters and Heteroclites in Nature; nor can you doubt but that there is the very same frame and constitution of men's spirits in respect of Intrinsecals, unless in some prodigious ones, that in the Philosopher's language are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. As face answers face, so does the heart of one man the heart of another, even the heart of an Athenian, th● heart of an Indian.  
Wherefore the Votes and Suffrages of Nature are no contemptible things. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; as the Poet sings. This was the mind of that grave Moralist Seneca, as appears by that speech of his; Apud nos veritatis argumentum est aliquid omnibus videri. But the Orator is higher and fuller in his expression; Omni autem in re, Consensio omnium Gentium, Lex Naturae putanda est. And that other Orator Quintilian does not much differ from him in this; Pro certis habemus ea, in quae communi opinione concessum est. Or if the judgement of a Philosopher be more potent and prevalent with you, you may hear Aristotle telling you, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. You may hear Heraclitus determining that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is an excellent 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of Truth; and therefore he wss wont to lay down this for a Maxim, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which may be rendered Vox Populi, Vox Dei; yet upon this condition, that it be took with its due restraints and limitations: If you would have a sacred Author set his seal to all this, Tertullian has done it; Quod apud multos unum invenitur, non est erratum sed traditum.  
Surely that must needs be a clear convincing light that can command respect and adoration from all beholders; it must be an orient Pearl indeed, if none will trample upon it. It must be a conquering and triumphant truth, that can stop the mouths of gainsayers, and pass the world without contradiction. Surely that's pure gold that has been examined by so many several Touchstones, and has had approbation from them all; certainly 'tis some transcendent beauty that so many Nations are enamoured withal. 'Tis some powerful music that sets the whole world a dancing. 'Tis some pure and delicious relish, that can content and satisfy every palate. 'Tis some accurate piece that passes so many Critics without any Animadversions, without any Variae lectiones. 'Tis an Elegant Picture, that neither the eye of an Artist, nor yet a Popular eye can find fault withal. Think but upon the several tempers and dispositions of men; how curious are some? how censorious are others? how envious and malicious are some? how various and mutable are others? how do some love to be singular? others to be contentious? how doubtful and wavering is one? how jealous and suspicious is another? and than tell me whether it must not be some Authentical and unquestionable Truth, that can at all times have a Certificate and Commendamus from them all?  
Then look upon the diversities of Nations & there you will see a rough and barbarous Scythian, a wild American, an unpolisht Indian, a superstitious Egyptian, a subtle Ethiopian, a cunning Arabian, a luxurious Persian, a treacherous Carthaginian, allying Cretian, an elegant Athenian, a wanton Corinthian, a desperate Italian, a fight German, & many other heaps of Nations, whose titles I shall now spare, and tell me whether it must not be some admirable and efficacious Truth, that shall so overpower them all, as to pass currant amongst them, and be owned and acknowledged by them.  
Yet notwithstanding as we told you before, that the obligation of Nature's Law did not spring from Reason, so much less does it arise from the consent of Nations. That Law indeed which is peculiarly termed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Jus Gentium, has its vigour and validity from those mutual and reciprocal compacts, which they have made amongst themselves: but the meeting of several Nations in the observation of Nature's Law, has no binding or engaging virtue in it any otherwise then in an exemplary way; but yet it has a confirming and evidencing power, that shows that they were all obliged to this by some supreme Authority, which had such an ample influence upon them all. Thus you know the sweetness of Honey, both by your own taste, and by the consent of Palates too: yet neither the one, nor the other does drop any sweetness or lusciousnesse into the Honeycomb. Thus you see the beauty and glory of light, and you may call most men in the world to be eye-witnesses of it, yet those several eyes add no gloss or lustre to it, but only take notice of it.  
Man being 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as the Philosopher styles him, a sociable and peaceable Creature; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as that sacred Orator terms him, a congregating Creature that loves to keep company, he must needs take much delight and complacency in that, in which he sees the whole Tribe and Species of mankind agreeing with him.  
Why then do the Jews look upon the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with such a disdaining and scornful eye, as if all the Nations in comparison of them, were no more than what the Prophet says, they are in respect of God, as the drop of a bucket, as the dust of the Balance, that cannot incline them one way or other.  
Do but hear a while how that learned and much honoured Author of our own, does represent their mind unto you. Gentium (says he) sive omnium, sive complurium opiniones, mores, constitutiones, mensurae apud Hebraeos, in eo decernendo quod jus esse velint Naturale, seu universale, locum habent nullum. These are the Contents of that Chapter which he begins thus; Quemadmodum ex aliorum animantium actibus aut usu, jus aliquod naturale disci, aut designari nolunt Ebraei; it à neque ex aliarum, sive omnium sive plurimarum Gentium usu ac moribus de Jure Naturali, seu hominum universali decerni volunt. It seems the Jews look upon the Gentiles, as if they differed specifically from them: as they do not search for the Law of Nature amongst Sensitive Being's, so neither amongst other Nations.  
But I had thought that the Jewish Writers had promised the Heathens an Angel, an Intelligence, to irradiate & illuminate them, and does he shine upon them no clearer? does he perform his office no better? The Jews told us that they themselves were to inform them and instruct them, and have they taught them their lessons no better? they mentioned a voice that came to Adam and to Noah, and have they whispered it only in one another's ear? Why have they not proclaimed it to the rest of the world?  
How sad were the condition of the Gentiles, if they were to live upon the Jews courtesy and benevolence, that would strip them of Nature, plunder them of their essences, rob them of their first Principles and Common Notions? But God has not left them like Orphans to such unmerciful Guardians. He himself has took care of them, and has made better provision for them.  
Now these several Nations are to be considered either in the common bulk and heap of them▪ or else in the major part of them, or in the noblest & most refined sort amongst them, either 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
If we take them in the fullest universality of them, than that worthy Author of our own says truly, Nec olim, nec hactenùs, aut qualesnam, aut quot sint, fuer●ntve, est ab aliquo satis exploratum. Nor indeed is it at all material in respect of this, whether we know them or no; but having the formal consent of so many, and knowing that there is Par Ratio Reliquorum, being that they have the same natural engagements and obligations upon them, we cannot justly distrust, but that if there should new Nations, nay if there should new worlds appear that every Rational Nature amongst them, would comply with and embrace the several Branches of this Law: and as they would not differ in those things that are so intrinsical to Sense; so neither in those that are essential to the Understanding. As their corporal eye would be able to distinguish between beauty and deformity, so their Intellectual eye would as easily discern some goodness from some kind of wickedness.  
But are there not many Nations of them that live in the perpetual violation of Nature's Law? If you speak of the more capital letters of this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, you find no Nation so barbarous but that it can read them and observe him. I never heard of a Nation apostatising from common Notions, from these first Principles. But if you mean the whole context and coherence of Nature's Law, if you speak of those Demonstrations that may be built upon these fundamental Principles, of those kindly derivations and conclusions that flow from these fountain-Notions: then this indeed must be granted, that 'tis the condemning sin of the Heathen; That so many of them imprison this natural light, and extinguish this Candle of the Lord.  
There are many wild and Anomalous Individuums amongst them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Aristotle calls them; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as others term them; but are there not such also even amongst Jews? nay amongst such as call themselves Christians, that are lapsed and fallen below themselves? many natural precepts are violated even amongst them; have you weeds, & briers, & thorns in a garden? no wonder then that you meet with more in a wilderness. Are there some prodigies in Europe? you may very well look for more Monsters in Africa. Do Christians blur and blot the Law of Nature? no wonder then that an American seeks quite to raze it out. Does an Israelite put Truth sometimes in Prison? no wonder then that an Egyptian puts it in a Dungeon. Yet notwithstanding amongst all those that have had so much Culture and Morality as to knit, and embody, and compact themselves into a Commonwealth; to become 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to be regulated by a legal government, you will scarce find any Nation that did generally and expressly and for long continuance, either violate or countenance the violation of any precept clearly Natural.  
This is that in which the learned Grotius satisfies himself, that Omnes Gentes Moraliores & Illustriores, gave due obedience and conformity to Nature's Law, so that all Testimonies fetched from them, are to have an high price and esteem put upon them.  
But the famous Salmasius in his late Tractate De Coma goes a far different way; and tells us that he had rather search for Nature's Law in a naked Indian, then in a spruce Athenian, in a rude American, rather than in a gallant Roman; in a mere Pagan, rather than in a Jew or Christian. His words are these, Quanto magis Barbari, tanto feliciùs, faciliùsque Naturam Ducem sequi putantur: Eam detorquent, aut ab ea magis recedunt politiores gentes.  
Those Nations that have more of Art and improvement amongst them, have so painted Nature's face, have hung so many Jewels in her ear; have put so many Bracelets upon her hand; they have clothed her in such soft and silken raiment, as that you cannot guess at her so well, as you might have done, if she had nothing but her own simple and neglected beauty: you cannot taste the Wine so well, because they have put Sugar into it, and have bribed your palate.  
So that the learned Salmasius will scarce go about to fetch the Law of Nature from the Jews principally; you see he chooses to fetch it rather from a Scythian, from a Barbarian; there he shall see it without any glosses, without any Superstructures, without any carving and gild, a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 plainly written, without any flourishes & amplifications. Yet the Author, whom I but now commended, (Salmasius I mean) neither could nor would go about to vindicate all those Nations from some Notorious Rebellions against Nature's Law, but he would rather choose, (as much as he could) to abstract their Intellectuals from their Practicals, and would look to their opinions and Laws, rather than to their life and conversation.  
Indeed Aristotle tells us, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. That same phrase 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, does only speak a propensity and inclination in their vile affections to such wickednesses as these were; which sometimes also they acted in a most violent and impetuous manner. Though to be sure they could not be long a Nation if they did thus kill and eat up and devour one another.  
But let us suppose that they dealt thus with their enemies, yet can it be shown us that they established Anthropophagy by a Law? that their Natural Conscience did not check them for it? or if their reason did connive at them; yet how comes it to pass that their Angel did not jog them all this while, that their Intellectus Agens did not restrain them?  
But out of what Antiquity doth it appear that any Nation did favour Atheism by a Law? that any Kingdom did licence Blasphemy by a statute, or countenance Murder by a Law? Out of what Author can they show us a Nation that ever did allow the breaches of solemn compacts, the dishonouring of Parents, that ever made a Law for this, that there should be no Law or Justice amongst them?  
Till all this can appear, let the Testimonies of Gentiles be esteemed somewhat more than the barking of dogs. Me thinks if they were mere Ciphers, yet the Jews going before them, they might amount to somewhat. Let the prints of Nature in them be accounted sacred: a Pearl in the head of a Heathen, some Jewels hid in the rubbish of Nations, let them be esteemed precious. Whatsoever remains of God's image upon them, let it be loved and acknowledged. Their darkness and misery is great enough, let not us aggravate it, and make it more. To mix the light of their Candle, with that light which comes shining from the Candle of an Heathen, is no disparagement to Jew nor Christian.   

CHAP. XI.  
The light of Reason is a derivative light.  
NOw the Spirit of man is the Candle of the Lord.  
First, as Lumen derivatum, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Surely there's none can think that light is primitively and originally in the Candle; but they must look upon that only as a weak participation of something that is more bright and glorious. All created excellency shines with borrowed beams, so that reason is but Scintilla divinae lucis, 'tis but Divinae particula aurae. This was the very end why God framed intellectual creatures, that he might communicate more of himself to them, than he could to other more drossy and inferior beings, and that they might in a more complete and circular manner redire in principium suum (as the Schoolmen speak) that they might return into the bosom of the first and supreme cause by such operations as should in some measure imitate and represent the working of God himself, who being a most free and intellectual Agent, would have some creature also that should not only take notice of these his perfections, so as to adore and admire them, but should also partake of them, and should follow the Creator in his dispensations and workings, though still at an infinite distance and disproportion.  
This moved him to stamp upon some creatures understanding and will, which in themselves make up one simple and entire print and signature of Reason, though we break the seal for the better opening of them, and part them into two several notions. To this end he filled the highest part of the world with those Stars of the first magnitude, I mean those Orient and Angelical beings, that dwell so near the fountain of light, and continually drink in the beams of glory; that are exactly conformable to their Creator in all his motions, for the same end he furnished and beautified this lower part of the world with intellectual lamps, that should shine forth to the praise and honour of his name, which totally have their dependence upon him, both for their being, and for their perpetual continuation of them in their being. 'Twas he that lighted up these lamps at first; 'tis he that drops 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the golden oil into them. Look then a while but upon the parentage and original of the soul & of Reason, & you'll presently perceive that it was the Candle of the Lord. And if you have a mind to believe Plato, he'll tell you such a feigned story as this. That there were a goodly company of Lamps, a multitude of Candles, a set number of souls lighted up altogether, and afterwards sent into bodies, as into so many dark Lanterns. This stock and treasure of souls was reserved, and cabinetted in I know not what Stars, perhaps that they might the better calculate their own incarnation, the time when they were to descend into bodies, and when they came there they presently sunk into 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; they slipped into 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which he terms 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the putting off of knowledge for a while, the clouding and burying of many sparkling and twinkling notions, till by a waking reminiscence as by a joyful resurrection, they rise out of their graves again. Plato it seems looked upon the body as the blot of nature, invented for the defacing of this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or at the best as an impertinent tedious parenthesis, that checked and interrupted the soul in her former notions; that eclipsed and obscured her ancient glory, which sprung from his ignorance of the resurrection, for had he but known what a glory the body was capable of, he would have entertained more honourable thoughts of it.  
Yet Origen was much taken with this Platonical notion, it being indeed a pretty piece of Philosophy for him to pick allegories out of. And though he do a little vary from Plato in a circumstance or two, yet in recompense of that he gives you this addition, and enlargement, that according to the carriage & behaviour of these naked spirits before they were embodied, there were prepared answerable mansions for them. That such a soul as had walked with God acceptably was put into a fairer prison, was clothed with an amiable and elegant body; But that soul which had displeased and provoked its Creator, was put into a darker dungeon, into a more obscure and uncomely body. That Candle which had shined clearly, was honoured with a golden Candlestick; that which had soiled its light, was condemned to a dark Lantern: one would think by this, that Origen had scarce read Genesis, he doth in this so contradict the Sacred History of the Creation. Nor is this the just product of Plato's opinion, but 'tis pregnant with much more folly, he returns him his own with usury, gives him this as the just 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and improvement of it.▪  
Aquinas doth clash in pieces all these Platonical fictions in his two books Contra Gentiles; yet upon this sinking and putrid foundation was built the tottering superstructure of connate Species. For when Plato had laid down this Error for a maxim. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that the souls of men were long extant before they were born, then that other fancy did presently step in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that the soul was very speculative and contemplative before it was immersed in the body, which made way for the next conceit, that the soul brought many of its old notions along with it into the body, many faithful attendants that would bear the soul company in her most withering condition, when other more volatile and fugitive notions took wing to themselves and flew away; many a precious pearl sunk to the bottom of Lethe, but some relics of notions floated upon the top of the waters, and in the general Deluge of notions there was an Ark prepared for some select principles, some prec●pta Nouchidarum, which were to increase and multiply and supply the wants of an intellectual world.  
This makes the Platonists look upon the spirit of man as the Candle of the Lord for illuminating and irradiating of objects, and darting more light upon them than it receives from them. But Plato as he failed in corporeal vision whilst he thought that it was per extramiss●onem radiorum; So he did not ab errore suo recedere in his intellectual optio●●but in the very same manner tells us that spiritual vision also is per emissionem radiorum. And truly he might as well fancy such implanted Ideas, such seeds of light in his external eye, as such seminal principles in the eye of the mind. Therefore Aristotle (who did better clarify both these kinds of visions) plucked these motes out of the sensitive eye, and those beams out of the intellectual. He did not antedate his own knowledge, nor remember the several postures of his soul, and the famous exploits of his mind before he was born; but plainly professed that his understanding came naked into the world. He shows you an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, an abrasa tabula, a virgin-soul espousing itself to the body, in a most entire, affectionate, and conjugal union, and by the blessing of heaven upon this loving pair, he did not doubt of a Notional offspring & posterity; this makes him set open the windows of sense to welcome and entertain the first dawnings, the early glimmerings of morning-light. Clarum mane fenestras intrat & Angustas extendit lumine rimas. Many sparks and appearances fly from variety of objects to the understanding; The mind, that catches them all, and cherishes them, and blows them; and thus the Candle of knowledge is lighted. As he could perceive no connate colours, no pictures or portraitures in his external eye: so neither could he find any signatures in his mind till some outward objects had made some impression upon his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, his soft and pliable understanding impartially prepared for every seal. That this is the true method of knowledge he doth appeal to their own eyes, to their own understandings; do but analyse your own thoughts, do but consult with your own breasts, tell us whence it was that the light first sprang in upon you. Had you such notions as these when you first peeped into being? at the first opening of the souls eye? in the first exordium of infancy? had you these connate Species in the cradle? and were they rocked asleep with you? or did you then meditate upon these principles? Totum est majus parte, & Nihil potest esse & non esse simul. ne'er tell us that you wanted origanical dispositions, for you plainly have recourse to the sensitive powers, and must needs subscribe to this, that all knowledge comes flourishing in at these lattices. Why else should not your Candle enlighten you before? who was it that chained up; and fettered your common notions▪ Who was it that restrained and imprisoned your connate Ideas? Me thinks the working of a Platonists soul should not at all depend on 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; and why had you no connate demonstrations, as well as connate principles? Let's but see a catalogue of all these truths you brought with you into the world. If you speak of the principles of the Laws of Nature, you shall hear the Schoolmen determining. Infans pro illo statu non obligatur lege naturali, quia non habet usum Rationis & libertatis. And a more sacred Author says as much, Lex Naturae est lex intelligentiae quam tamen ignorat pueritia, nescit infantia. There's some time to be allowed for the promulgation of Nature's Law by the voice of Reason. They must have some time to spell the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ that was of Reason's writing. The mind having such gradual and climbing accomplishments, doth strongly evince that the true rise of knowledge is from the observing and comparing of objects, and from thence exstracting the quintessence of some such principles as are worthy of all acceptation; that have so much of certainty in them, that they are near to a Tautology and Identity, for this first principles are.  
These are the true and genuine 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; these are the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; these are the props of Reasons contriving, upon which you may see her leaning, about which you may see her turning and spreading and enlarging herself. That learned Knight, in his discourse concerning the soul, doth at large show the manner how the mind thus goes a gathering of knowledge; How like a Bee it goes from flower to flower, from one entity to another, how it sucks the purest and sweetest of all, how it refuses all that is distasteful to it, and makes a pleasant composition of the rest, and thus prepares honey-combs for itself to feed on.  
But if it were at all to be granted that the soul had many stamps and characters upon it; that it had any implanted and ingraffed Species; 'twere chiefly to be granted that it hath the connate notion of a Deity, that pure and infinitely refined entity, abstracted from all appearance of matter. But mark how the great Doctor of the Gentiles convinces them of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he doth not set them a searching their connate Species, but bids them look into the glass of the creatures; O but (might some Platinist say) why, he is all spirit and an invisible being, what shall we find of him amongst material objects? yes (says the Apostle) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the invisible things of God are made known by the things that do appear; for a being endowed with such a soul as man is, can easily in a discursive way, by such eminent steps of second causes ascend to some knowledge of a prime and supreme being; which doth fully explain that he means by his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, those clear dictates of Reason fetched from the several workings of the understanding, that have sealed and printed such a truth upon the soul; so that no other innate light, but only the power and principle of knowing and reasoning is the Candle of the Lord.  
Yet there is a noble Author of our own, that hath both his truth and his error, (as he hath also writ about both) who pleads much for his instinctus naturales, so as that at the first dash you would think him a Platonical strain; but if you attend more to what he says, you will soon perceive that he prosecutes a far different notion much to be preferred before the other fancy.  
For he doth not make these instincts any connate Ideas and representations of things, but tells us that they are powers and faculties of the soul, the firstborn faculties and beginning of the souls strength, that are presently espoused to their Virgin-objects closing and complying with them, long before discourse can reach them; nay, with such objects as discourse cannot reach at all in such a measure and perfection: these instincts he styles Naturae dotes, & providentiae Divinae universalis idea, & typus optimus. Some of these are to be found in the lowest inanimate beings, which yet have no connate Species among them; though they have powers and propension to their own welfare, a blind tendency and inclination to their own security; for thus he speaks— Instinctus ille Naturalis in quovis inarticulato licèt & incauto elemento, sapiens est ad conservationem propriam; and such a noble being as man is, must needs have it in a more sublime and eminent manner.  
Therefore he terms these instincts in man facultates noëticae, & facultates Deo analogae; whereas those other inferior faculties are esteemed facultates analogae mundo; his words being somewhat cloudy, I shall thus paraphrase upon them. The soul 'tis made with a through light, with a double window, at one window it looks upon corporeals, at the other it hath a fair prospect upon spirituals. When it takes notice of the material world, it looks out at the window of sense, and views the putamina & cortices rerum, theoutward husks and shells of being, but not at all pleased or contented with them, those higher powers, those purer faculties of the soul unclasp and disclose themselves, and extend themselves for receiving some delight more precious and satisfactory, being made in as harmonious proportion suitable to spiritual objects, as the eye is to colours, o● the care to sounds. And as you know, a corporeal eye is so fashioned and organised, that though it have no connate Species of the Sun, yet 'tis pleasant to behold it; so the eye of the soul doth willingly open itself to look upon God per modum objecti, a●d has all per receptionem from him, fixing its eye upon so transcendent and beautiful an object, and viewing all those streamings out of light, those beamings out of eternal and universal notions, that flow from him as the fountain of lights, where they have dwelled from everlasting, which now appear to it in time with a most powerful and enamouring ray, to direct the soul to that happiness it longed for, and to guide and conduct it in all its operations. If you ask when these highest faculties did first open and display themselves, he tells you 'tis then when they were stimulated and excited by outward objects, and it may be upon this account, that when the soul can find nothing there worthy one glance, one cast of its eye, impatient of such empty and shadowy sights, it opens itself to the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and warms itself in those everlasting Sunbeams▪ but when it comes down from the mount, it puts on the veil of sense, and so converses with material objects.  
Yet I do not here positively lay down this for a truth in all the branches of it, but only represent the mind of the forementioned Author, who himself doth acknowledge that the rise of these first principles is very Cryptical and mysterious. His words are these. Vos interea non▪ morari debet quèd quomodo eliciantur istae notitiae communes nesciatis. Satis supérque diximus vos nescire quomodo fiat gustus, odoratus, tactus, etc. By which you cannot but perceive that he makes the conformity of such a faculty with such an object, the spring and original of common notions. Yet this than had deserved a little clearing, whence the difficulty of understanding spirituals pro hoc statu does arise, if there be such a present, and exact analogy between them; whereas the intuitive knowledge of God, and viewing those goodly notions that are steeped in his essence uses to be reserved as a privilege of a glorified creature. Yet this I suppose may be said that herein is the souls imperfection, that it cannot sufficiently attend both to spirituals and corporeals; and therefore sense being so busy and importunate for the prosecution of her objects; no wonder that these noëntical faculties do faint and languish. So that if there be any whom the former discursive way will not suffice, it seems better for them to have recourse to an innate power of the soul that is fitted and fashioned for the receiving of spirituals, quatenus spirituals, then to fly to I know not what connate Species, of I know not how long duration before the soul was acquainted with the body. Yet that other noble Author of our own, that has the same title of truth not without a competent mixture of error too, doth choose to resolve all into a Platonical remembrance, which yet that acute answerer of him doth show to be a mere vanity; for as for matters of fact, to be sure they have no implanted Ideas: And if historical knowledge may be acquired without them, why then should discursive knowledge have such a dependence upon them? And I wish that the Platonists would but once determine whether a blind man be a competent judge of colours by virtue of his connate Species, and whether by supply of these Ideas deaf man may have the true notion of music and harmony? if not, than they must ingeniously confess, that the soul for the present wants so much of light as it wants of the window of sense. But if they tell us that some outward objects must jog and waken these drowsy and slumbering notions, they then lay the foundation in sensitives; and withal let them show us, why the generality of men in their intellectuals are not equally improved, whereas they have the same objects to quicken and inflame them? in the mean time we will look upon the understanding as speculum non coloratum, a glass not prejudiced nor prepossessed with any connate tinctures, but nakedly receiving, and faithfully returning all such colours as fall upon it. Yet the Platonists in this were commendable, that they looked upon the spirit of a man as the Candle of the Lord, though they were deceived in the time when 'twas lighted.  
Nor is this Candle lighted out of the Essence of God himself, 'twere a far more tolerable error to make the light of a Candle a piece of the Sun's essence then to think that this intellectual lamp is a particle of the divine nature: There is but one 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, I mean the wonderful 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, not a Candle, but a Sun that shined from everlasting. But I find the Stoics challenged for this error, that they thought there was a real emanation, and traduction of the soul out of God. Ex ipsa Dei substantia, and the Gnostics, the Maniche's and Priscillianists are looked upon as their successors in this folly.  
Now as for the Stoics you'll scarce find evidence enough to prove them guilty of this opinion. They have indeed some doting and venturing expressions, when they amplify and dignify the nobility of the soul; and will needs have some of the royal blood to run in every vein and faculty of it, nor are the Platonists defective in this, but lift up the soul to as high a pitch of perfection as the Stoics ever did; yet surely both of them but as a limited and dependant being infinitely remote from the fullness of a Deity. Yet Simplicius in his Comment upon the grand Stoic Epictetus tells us that that Sect of Philosophers were wont to call the soul 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, pars vel membrum Dei, which is a gross and corporeal conceit, not at all agreeable to the indivisibility of spirituals, nor suitable with the souls immateriality, much less consistent with the transcendent purity of God himself. But the learned Salmasius in his Animadversions on both the forementioned Authors, though he spend paper enough in clearing some passages of the Academics, Peripatetics, and Stoics, concerning the nature of the soul; yet doth not in the least measure take notice of any such heterodox tenant among the Stoics, yet if there had been any such, they had very well deserved Animadversions; but he doth thus represent their Philosophy to you; That whereas the soul is usually looked upon as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, being branched out into the Vegetative, Sensitive and Rational▪ the Stoics they chose to make it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and would have septem partes ancillantes, Imperatricem unicam; which they reckoned thus: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 they were five; then 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which was all one with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Yet as Plato and Aristotle disposing the soul into three several ranks and distributions, would by no means allow of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a triplicity of souls in one compositum: So neither would the Stoics admit any plurality of souls, but esteemed these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 only as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, non membra sed ingenia, as Tertullian terms them very significantly, styling the powers and faculties of the soul, the several wits of the soul, so that it was but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, enlarging itself to the capacity and exigency of the body, but in such a manner, as that 'twas dispensata potius quam concisa. The principal and Hegemonical power of the soul the Stoics situated in the heart, as Aristotle did, though very erroneously, & yet Plato had taught him better, for he placed it in the brain as the proper tabernacle for reason to dwell in. But amongst the Stoics there are some expressions that seem to depress & degrade the soul, as much as others seem to advance and exalt it, for though some call it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, yet others, and among the rest Zeno (the great founder of that Sect,) terms it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which that stupid Author of the souls mortality finding somewhere translated into English, catches at, and tells us that the Stoics hold the soul to be a certain blast hot and fiery, or the vital spirit of the blood; whereas at the most, they did only choose that corporeal spirit as Vehiculum animae, a Chariot for a more triumphant spirit to ride in, the principal seat of the soul, which they did so much extol and deify. 'Tis abundantly clear that their Stoical Philosophy was more refined and clarified, more sublime and extracted from matter, then to resolve the quintessence of a rational nature into I know not what muddy and feculent spirit; this they could not do, if they would be faithful and constant to their own principles. Nay, they were so far from thus vilifying the soul and detracting from it, as that they were rather excessive and hyperbolical in praising it above the sphere of a creature. Thus that known Stoic Epictetus calls the soul of man 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which Seneca renders, liber animus est Diis cognatus; and Arrian in his Comment upon the forementioned Author doth thus diffuse and amplify it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. i e. There is connexion and coherence of souls with a Deity, there are mutual touches and embraces between them, they are some delibations, and participations of himself; thus that famous Emperor M. Antoninus that had tasted of the Stoical Philosophy, styles the soul 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Where, at the first one would think he had meant it in an Averroistical sense, but that he himself doth prevent the interpretation, by telling you that he intends nothing else but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which therefore he calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, because that he knew the soul was separable from the body, and Pythagoras long before him had called it by the same name in his golden verses.  
But amongst all the rest, Seneca is the most high and lofty in magnifying, and very near deifying of the soul; for thus you may hear him speak; Quid aliud vocas animum, quam Deum in humano corpore hospitantem? That is, What less title can you give the soul, then that of a God condescending to dwell in an house of clay? which is too near that of the Apostle 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, God manifestested in the flesh. Nor yet was this any unwary passage that slipped from Seneca's pen on the sudden, but he will stand to it, and repeat it, for thus he saith again. Ratio nil aliud est quam in corpus humanum pars Divini spiritûs mersa, Reason 'tis somewhat of a Deity steeped in a body. From this last speech that learned and eminent writer of our own doth endeavour to evince, that Seneca made God the Intellectus Agens of the soul, whereas 'tis very evident that this Philosopher only prosecuted that Stoical notion, of the soul being 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a branch of a Deity 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Yet notwithstanding all these strains of Stoical Philosophy do not sufficiently declare that they thought the soul to be of the very same essence with God himself, but only that they perceived much similitude between the soul and a Deity; many bright resemblances of God stamped upon it, which is not only sound Philosophy, but good Divinity too; that the soul was made according to the image of its Creator. Thus they made it not only 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 too, even the breath of a Deity 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, stamped with the Seal of God himself, as Philo speaks. 'Twas 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Damascen calls it, very agreeable to this of Solomon, the Candle of the Lord. 'Tis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Greg. Nyss. has it, the Poem of God himself. That whereas other creatures were as it were writ in Prose, the souls of men were composed more harmoniously, in more exact number and measure. No wonder then that the Stoics spying out such spiritual workmanship, and embroidery in the soul of man, did esteem it as an inferior kind of Deity, a Bud, and Blossom of Divinity; as they meant by their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, nothing but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, so likewise when they call the soul To▪ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they need intend no more than the Pythagoreans do by their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that divine virtue and efficacy which the soul has, that makes it look so like its Creator. Thus the Pythagoreans were wont to call the higher region of the soul, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the lower 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, not understanding by the first any particle of a Deity, though it may be by the last they might understand the soul of a beast, by virtue of their supposed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. But I meet with none that doth so punctually and accuratly determine this, as Trismegistus does, who speaks so exactly as if he had spied out this difficulty and objection, his words are these. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, The soul, says he, was not framed and carved out of the essence of a Deity, but it rather sprung from the dilatation, and diffusion of his power and goodness, as beams do from the Sun, when it spreads forth its quickening and cherishing wings. Yet when you hear the creatures often styled beams of a Deity, and drops of a Deity, you must neither imagine that there is the least division, or diminution, or variation in the most immutable essence of God; nor that the creature does partake the very essence of the Creator, but that it hath somewhat of his workmanship, obvious and visible in it, and according to the degree of its being, doth give fainter or brighter resemblances of its Creator. As suppose an accurate Painter should bestow much of his skill in drawing a lively portraiture of himself, you would not think such a picture a piece of his essence, but you would look upon it only as the fruit and product of his skill, and as a witty imitation of himself. Now there is a far greater disproportion between God and any created being, then between the face and the picture of it: So that if you see any heavenly beauty, any divine lineaments sparkling in the soul, you may presently conclude that it was digitus Dei, nay the hand of God that drew them there, as the shadowy representations of his own most glorious being. 'Tis the greatest honour that a creature is capable of, to be the picture of its Creator. You know the very formality of creation doth speak a being raised ex nihilo; creation being the production of something out of the barren womb of nothing; and if the creature must be ex nullo praeexistente, then to be sure 'tis not extracted out of the essence of God himself. But the whole generality of the ancient Heathen Philosophers had a veil upon their face, here they had not a clear and open sight of the creation, but only some obscure and imperfect notions about it, which made them think that all corporeals were made ex aliqua praejacente materia, coexistent with the prime and supreme efficient; and because they could not fetch spirituals out of materials, nor yet conceive that they should be fetched out of nothing, this made them determine that they sprung out of the essence of God himself, who as a voluntary fountain could bubble them forth when he pleased, who as a father of lights could sparkle and kindle them when he thought best. But that fiction of materia ab aeterno will do them no service at all; for either 'twas produced by God himself, & then it was created ex nihilo, for God himself was a pure immaterial Spirit, and therefore must make matter where none was before; or else it was an Independent eternal being, which makes it another Deity, and that involves a flat repugnancy. Therefore as corporeal and material beings were raised out of nothing by the infinite vigour and power of God himself, so he can with the very same facility produce spiritual beings out of nothing too. Can he not as well light this Lamp out of nothing, as build the goodly fabric of the world out of nothing? Cannot a creating breath make a soul as well as a creating word make a world? He that can create the shell of corporeals, cannot he as well create the kernel of spirituals? He that created a visible Sun, cannot he as well create an invisible, an intellectual spark? You may hear Aquinas disputing against the Gentiles, & most fully and strongly demonstrating, that God could not be either the materia or forma of any created being, for it's not imaginable how the Creator himself should ingredi essentiam creaturae. But his causality is by way of efficiency producing & maintaining beings; the best of creatures are but vasa figuli. Now a vessel, though a vessel of honour, yet it is no piece of the Potter's essence, but only the subject of his power and will. One and the same Seal may print all the Wax that's possible, yet there will not be the least mutation in the Seal, but only in the Wax; nor yet doth the Wax at all participate of the seals essence, but only receives a stamp and signature made upon it. So that the Seal was as entire and complete before it had imprinted the Wax, as it was afterwards; and though all the signatures of the Wax were defaced and obliterated, yet the Seal would be as perfect as before.  
Thus God, though he leaves prints of himself upon all the souls in the world, nay upon all the beings in the world, yet these impressions are not particles of himself; nor do they make the least mutation in him, only in the creature; for he was as full and perfect before he had printed any one creature, and if the whole impression of creatures were annihilated, yet his essence were the same, and he could print more when he pleased, and as many as he pleased. Yet all the entity, goodness, and reality, that is to be found in the creature, was totally derived from him, and is transcendently treasured up in him, as the print of the wax, though it be really different from the print of the Seal, yet that very stamp and signature had its being from the Seal, 'twas virtually and originally in the Seal; and now gives some resemblance of it. All created goodness was à Deo producta, & à Deo exemplata, (as the Schools speak) though not very elegantly. 'Tis à Deo conservata, & in Deum ordinata, yet all this while 'twas nothing of the essence of a Deity; and indeed it cannot have any of his essence, unless it have all of it. He that calls the creature a drop in such a sense, may as well call it a fountain; he that thus terms it a ray of Divinity, may as well call it a Sun, for there are no particles in essentials. All essence 'tis indivisible, how much more the essence of God himself. How fond is the fancy of a semi-Deity, away with the Stoics 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here, if this be the meaning of them, who ever heard of fragments in spirituals! Dares therefore any absolutely deify the soul? or make it coëssential or coëqual with God himself? Is not the soul a limited and restrained being? short and imperfect in its operations, a dependent and precarious being; and are these things agreeable to a Deity? Is not the soul naturally united to the body for the quickening and informing of it? and is that a condition fit for a Deity? nay, are not many souls guilty, defiled, miserable beings? and are they all this while spangles of a Deity? They must have very low and dishonourable thoughts of God that make any creature partner or sharer with him in his essence, and they must have high and swelling thoughts of the creature. How proud is that soul that aspires to be a God? Is it not enough for a soul to approach unto his God, to see his face, to enjoy his presence, to be like unto him, to be knit unto him, in love and affection? Happiness doth advance a creature to his just perfection, but it doth not lift it above the sphere of its being. A glorified being, is still a subservient and finite being. A soul when in its full brightness, yet still is but the Candle of the Lord, let it come as near as it can, yet it will be infinitely distant from him. Heaven it doth not mix and blend essences together, but keeps them all in their just beauty and proportions; so that take a creature in what condition you will, and 'tis not the least particle of a Deity. There's another Error, but it's scarce worth mentioning, of some that would have the Candle of the Lord lighted up by Angels, as if they had created the soul; Nay, the Carpocratians thought that all the rest of the world was created by them. But as no secondary being could create itself, so neither can it create any other being. 'Twas no Angelical breath, but the breath of a Deity that gave life to the soul, and 'twas not made after the image of an Angel, but of God himself. Angels and souls both came from the same Almighty Father of spirits, from the same glorious Father of lights, who showed the greatness of his power in raising such goodly beings, not out of himself, but out of nothing.  
Whether ever since the first Creation the souls of men be lighted on the same manner immediately by God himself, by that commanding and efficacious word. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, let there be light, let there be an intellectual Lamp set up in such a creature; or whether it be lighted by the parents? whether one soul can light another? whether one and the same soul may be lighted by two, as a candle is lighted by two? These are the several branches of that great question, which hath been frequently vexed and discussed, but scarce ever quieted and determined. The Divines favour the way of creation, the Physicians that of traduction; Nay, Galen tells in plain terms, that the soul is but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a mere temper or complexion, the right tuning of the body, which is not far distant from the Fiddler's opinion, that Tully speaks of, that would needs have the soul to be an harmony. His soul that played him some lessons, and his body danced to them. And indeed some of the Physicians are as loath as he was ab arte sua discedere, and therefore they do embody the soul as much as they can, that their skill may extend to the happiness and welfare of it, as if they could feel the pulse of the soul, and try experiments upon the spirits; as if they could soften and compose the Paroxysm of the mind, and cure all the Languors and distempers of the soul; as if their drugs would work upon immaterial beings; as if they could kill souls as fast as they can kill bodies: as if the Candle of the Lord did depend upon these Prolongers; as though the Lamp would go out, unless they pour in some of their oil into it. No doubt but there is a mutual communion and intercourse between this friendly and espoused pair, the soul and body; no doubt but there is a loving sympathy and fellow-feeling of one another's conditions; but 'tis not so strong and powerful, as that they must both live and die together. Yet I speak not this as though the maintaining of the souls traduction did necessarily prejudice the immortality of it; for I know there are many learned Doctors amongst them (and Seneca amongst the rest) that are for the souls beginning in a way of generation, and yet do detest and abominate the least thoughts of its corruption. Nay, some sacred writers contend for the souls traduction, who yet never questioned the perpetuity of it: not only the African father Tertullian, but most of the Western Churches also; and the opinion of Apollinaris and Nemesius that one spiritual being might propagate another; I have not yet found sufficiently disproven, though it be generally reprehended. The truth is, the original of all forms, 'tis in profundo, 'tis very latent and mysterious; yet the Naturalists must needs acknowledge thus much, that the matter and form of every thing must have at least an incomplete being before generation; for by that they do not receive any new absolute entity, for than it would be a creation, but the parts are only collected, and disposed, and united by a strict & Gordian knot, by an inward continuity. So that in all such production the materia oritur ex materia, & forma ex forma generantis, and thus forms are continued according to that degree of being, which they had in the first Creation. Now why there should not be such a traditio Lampadis in the souls of men, will not easily be shown; the nobility and purity of the soul doth not at all hinder this, for there is a proportionable eminency in the soul, that doth produce it▪ One soul prints another with the same stamp of immortality, that itself had engraven upon it. But if any question how an immaterial being can be conveyed in such a seminal way, let him but show us the manner by which 'tis united to the body, and we will as easily tell him how it entered into it. Yet Hierome was so zealous against this, that he pronounceth a present Anathema, to all such as shall hold the soul to be ex traduce. But Austin was a great deal more calm and pacate; Nay, indeed he was in this point 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in a kind of equipoise and neutrality; and therefore with a gentle breath he did labour to fan and cool the heat of Hieromes opinion, and putting on all mildness and moderation, plainly confesses, Se neque legendo, neque or ando, neque ratiocinando invenire potuisse quomodo cum Creatione animarum peccatum originale defendatur. It seems he could not solve all those difficulties which the Pelagians raised against original sin, unless he held the traduction of the soul. He could not perceive how the Candle should be so soiled, if it were lighted only by a pure Sunbeam fetched from heaven. Yet that knot (which so skilful and laborious a hand could not untie) some others have easily cut asunder; and indeed there is no such cogency, and prevalency in that argument as can justly promise itself the victory. For the Schoolmen that are strong assertors of the souls creation, do satisfy all such doubts as these. And the major part of modern writers do incline to this, that these Lamps are lighted by God himself, though some indeed do 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and will determine nothing, as the acute Pemble does among the rest, in his little Tractate De Origine Formarum, and so doth that learned Knight in his late discourse of the soul, where he doth only drop one brief passage that countenances the souls traduction, upon which he that pretends to answer him, taketh occasion to huddle up no less than twenty Arguments against it, which sure he should by number and not by weight. But that Oxford answerer of that Brutish Pamphlet of The Souls Mortality, doth more solidly and deliberately handle the question, yet being very vehement and intense for the souls Creation, he slips into this error, that the traduction of the soul, is inconsistent with the immortality of it. But it may be you had rather hear the votes and suffrages of those ancient heathen writers, that had nothing to see by but the Candle of the Lord; perhaps you would willingly know what their souls thought of themselves. You'll believe nature, the universal mother, if she tell you who is the father of spirits. we'll begin with Pythagoras, and he tells you his mind freely and fully, whilst he gives you that piece of leafe-gold in one of his Verses; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Aratus is in the very same strain, and was honoured so far as to be quoted by an Apostle for it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. But if these seem somewhat more generally, not exactly pointing out at the soul, the Caldy Oracle will speak more punctually, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the Father of spirits by his thought and word, by his commanding breath did kindle this Lamp of the soul, for the quickening and illuminating of such a noble creature. Zoroaster povers it out more at large, and does thus dilate and amplify it. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. O soul (says he) why dost thou not aspire, and mount up to the centre and light of glory, to that fountain of beams and brightness, from whence thou wert derived, and sent down into the world, clothed and apparelled with such rich and sparkling endowments? The consideration of this made the Divine Trismegist break into that pang of admiration, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; what womb (saith he) is fit to bear a soul? who is fit to be the father of the soul? what breast is able to nourish a soul? who can make sufficient provision for a soul, but only that pure and invisible Spirit that shoots them, and darts them into bodies by his own Almighty power? And as the forementioned Author goes on, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, God the Father of being, the Father of life and nature, did frame and fashion man much like himself, and love him as his proper offspring; for those words of his, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 must be taken in an allayed, and tempered sense, (for they must by no means be understood of an equality, but only of a similitude). In the very same sense he calls God 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the Painter and trimmer of the soul; thus representing himself to the life; As for the mind of the Platonists and the Stoics we have before acquainted you with it, one looks so high, as if a Creation would scarce content them, unless they may have it ab aeterno; and the other seem to plead for a traduction and generation of the soul, not from the parents, but from God himself, which makes Epictetus so often mention the affinity and consanguinity of the soul with the Deity; And to use such words as these, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; If the Philosophers (says he) speak truth, when they tell us how near a kin the soul is to God; why then doth such a soul straighten and confine itself? why doth it contract and imprison so vast an essence? why does it look upon some spot of ground, with such a partial and peculiar affection? why doth it love the smoke of its earthly country, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; why does it not rather warm itself in the flame of its heavenly original? why does such an one style himself an Athenian, a Corinthian, a Lacedaemonian? why does he not rather think that he hath a whole world within him? why does he not sum up all his happiness in this great and honourable title, that he is the Son of God? and thus you see 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 will be the same with Socrates his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; and the words you see will pass currently in this sense; But yet (if we may take the liberty of a conjecture) I am ready to think that the first negative particle doth intrude itself too unseasonably, against the drift and meaning of the place, and therefore is to be refused and rejected; so that whereas the words were printed thus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; read 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and then they will run thus, Quid se mundanum vocat, cur non potius filium Dei? why doth he think himself a worldling, why doth he measure himself by earth, if he were born of heaven? where yet you may perceive that the Philosopher ascribes that to the first 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which is due only to the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to be called a Son of God. Nay, which indeed is due only to the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to the only begotten Son of God. Thus Philo the Jew (too Stoical in this) calls souls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which is the very same title, that the Apostle applies to God himself; and Plotinus gives as much to the soul as the Arrians did to Christ, for he calls it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which Plato styled 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; but Epictetus he goes on to keep 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, much in the Language of the Oracle, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 it can mean nothing else but God himself, the Father of spirits, and these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are such love-tokens as he has left with the sons of men to engage their affections to him. These Symbols are the very same which Moses calls the image of God; those representations of himself which he has scattered and sown in the being of man; as this word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 does imply, which made the wise Grecian Thales conclude 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that all men were brethren born of the same supreme being, that did educate and instruct them; this teaching is the same which the Persian Magis called a divine inebriation, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it was replete 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, you see then, that the joint consent of the Chaldeans, Egyptians, Persians, Grecians; was for the creation of the soul; and if you desire more testimonies from them, you may consult with Eugubin in his learned work de perenni Philosophia, where you shall meet with whole heaps of them. But as for Aristotle's opinion, you know that his custom was, when he could not beat out a notion into a rational account fairly to pass it by, and not to piece it out with such fabulous inventions, as Plato did abound withal; and though it is like he did often dispute this question in his thoughts, yet he makes no solemn entrance upon it in his works, but only toucheth it occasionally, and scatters a passage or two; that seem very clearly to acknowledge the creation of it: for (not to speak of the place in his morals, where he calls the soul 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, I shall only commend unto you those full and pregnant words in his two books the generatione animalium, the words are these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he had but a little before evinced that the sensitive, and vegetative souls were conveyed in a seminal way, like a couple of sparks, they were struck ex potentia materiae; but (says he) the rational, that came 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ex altiori sede, as Seneca speaks, the window of heaven was opened, and present light sprung in, for the completing of those former rudiments and preparations; the misunderstanding of this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, did it may be occasion, but it did at least corroborate the fancy of an Angels being an Intellectus Agens; yet Simplicius that known Interpreter of Aristotle does expound it of the souls creation, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as he speaks; and this which Aristotle here calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Psellus the Philosopher styles 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Plato termed it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the Sibyls called it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, some others 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, still conspiring with this of solomon's, the Candle of the Lord; and Seneca, (setting aside his Stoicism) has very gallant and brave apprehensions of the souls nobility, and tells us that it was haustus ex divina origine, which Tully, thus varies, ex ment divina decerptus, souls, like so many flowers, were cropped and gathered out of the garden of God; and were bound up in fasciculo viventium, in the bundle of the living: and if you will but attend to the noble Orator and Philosopher; you shall hear him thus pleading for the souls divinity. Animorum nulla in terris origo inveniri poorest; nihil enim est in animo mixtum atque concretum, aut quod è terra natum; atque fixum esse videatur: nihilque aut humidum quidem, aut flabile, aut igneum, his enim in Naturis nihil inest, quod memoriae vim, mentis, cogitationis habeat; quod & preterita teneat, & futura praevideat, & complecti possit praesentia, quae sola divina sunt, nec evincetur unquam unde ad hominem venire possunt nisi à Deo; singular is igitur quaedam est nature a atque vis animi, sejuncta ab his usitatis notisque naturis; it a quicquid est illud quod sentit, quod serpit, quod vult, quod viget, coeleste & divinum est; ob eam rem aeternum sit necesse est; which I shall thus render. 'Tis in vain to look for the souls parentage upon earth, for there is no mixing and blending of spirituals with corporeals, the earth doth not contribute, for the fixing and consolidating of them; 'tis no aery puff will suffice for the swiftness and nimbleness of their motion; no drops of water will quench their thirst and longings; they have a purer light and heat, than could ever be fetched from an elementary spark, in those humble and sordid beings, there's nothing fit to represent, much less to produce the clasping and retentive power of memory; the masculine and vigorous working of the mind; the refined and comprehensive virtue of those thoughts, that can recall and look back to things past, that can interpret, and comment upon all present objects, and with a Prophetical glance can spy out futurities and possibilities, which are works not unworthy of a Deity, nor can it ere be shown that such rare privileges should be communicated to humane nature any other way then by the immediate bounty and indulgence of heaven; there being such singular and inimitable idioms in the mind of man as could neverbe extracted from those ordinary and vulgar entities. Though a sensitive soul may creep upon the ground, though it may roll and tumble itself in the dust, yet an intellectual being scorns to look lower than heaven itself; and though it be dated in time, yet it means to live as long as eternity. The Poets had veiled and muffled up the same opinion in their mythology, whiles they tell us that Prometheus, (which is all one with providence) did work and fashion the bodies of men out of clay, but he was fain to steal fire from heaven for the quickening and enlivening them with souls, which made the Prince of Poets sing Igneus est ollis vigour & Coelestis origo, and Ovid supplies him with a short verse, Sedibus aetheris Spiritus ille venit. How often do you meet with this in Homer, that God is the Father of spirits, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the Father of Angelical beings and of the souls of men; which Virgil renders hominum Sator atque deorum. Yet all this while I know not whether you can, I am sure I cannot, sufficiently perceive that the generality of the Heathen did think that every soul was immediately created by God himself, but only that at the first there was bestowed more than ordinary workmanship upon them, which they knew principally by those generous motions which they found working in their own souls; and partly by some relics of Mosaical History, that was scattered amongst them. Thus than I have represented unto you, as indifferently as I can, the state of this great controversy; and though I could easily tell you which part I do most easily incline to; yet I shall rather refer it to your own thoughts, with this intimation, that a modest hesitancy may be very lawful here; for if you will believe Gregory the Great, he tells you its a question which cannot be determined in this life. However 'tis enough for us that the spirit of a man either by virtue of its constant creation, or by virtue of its first creation is the candle of the Lord.  
As the soul is the shadow of a Deity, so reason also is a weak and faint resemblance of God himself, whom therefore that learned Emperor M. Antoninus calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'tis God that plants reason, 'tis he that waters it, 'tis he that gives it an increase, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the title of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 belongs to Christ himself, in whom are hid the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Reason first danced and triumphed in those eternal Sunbeams, in the thoughts of God himself, who is the fountain and original of Reason. And as his will is the rule of goodness, so his understanding is the rule of Reason. For God himself is a most knowing and intellectual being, he is the first mover of entity, and does determinatè tendere in aliquem ●inem, which speaks an intelligent agent; he does propound most choice designs, and blessed ends to himself, and is not that a work of Reason? he does contrive, and dispose, and order means for accomplishing of them, and doth not that require understanding? He makes all beings instrumental and subordinate to him, he moves all inferior wheels in a regular manner; he moves all the spheres of second causes in a harmonical way; such blind entities as want intellectual eyes, he himself doth lead them, and conduct them▪ and to others he gives an eye for their guidance and direction. Now, he that hath framed an intellectual eye, shall not he see? he that hath clothed the soul with light as with a garment, shall not he much more be clothed himself with a fuller and purer brightness? In that which we esteem reason amongst men, there are many clouds and blemishes, many dark spots and wrinkles, that are scattered and conquered by this more glorious light. The soul 'tis fain to climb up and ascend to knowledge by several steps and gradations, but his understanding is all at the same height and eminency; Man's reason is fain to spend time in knitting a proposition, in spinning out a Syllogism, in weaving a demonstration; but he is infinitely beyond, and above these first draughts and rudiments of knowledge; he sees all 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, at the first opening of his eye from everlasting, with one intellectual glance, he pierceth into the whole depth of Entity, into all the dimensions of being. Man's understanding is fain to borrow a Species from the object which presents to the mind the picture and portraiture of itself, and strikes the intellectual eye with a colour suitable and proportionable to it: But the divine understanding never receives the least tincture from an object, no species ab extra, but views all things in the pure Crystal of his own essence, he does not at all see himself in the glass of the creatures, as we see him, but he sees creatures in the glass of his own being, how else should he see them from everlasting, before they were extant, before they were visible by any Species of their own? God therefore doth primarily and principally look upon himself, for he is nobilissimum intelligibile, he cannot have a more beautiful and satisfying object to look upon, than his own face, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is an object fit to enamour all understanding: for the more any being is abstracted from materiality, the more 'tis refined from material conditions, the more graceful and welcome it is to the understanding; for matter does cloud and darken the gloss of being; it doth eclipse an object, and is no friend to intelligibility. So that God being a pure and immaterial spirit must needs be praestantissimum intelligibile, and a most adequate object for his own eye to look upon. And this understanding is himself, it being actio immanens, always dwelling with him, Dei scientia est Dei essentia, (as the Schoolmen speak) God is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he is both all eye, and all light; as suppose the bright body of the Sun had a visive faculty, so as it could view and survey its own light and beams, and could by virtue of them look upon all other things, which its own light does unveil, and discover, 'twould then give some languishing adumbration of a Deity, who is always looking upon his own perfections, and seeing creatures by his own light, by his own uncreated beams. For Species & similitudo omnium est in Dei essentia. Thus God looking upon his own omnipotency, knows all possibilities; viewing his own determinations, he sees all futurities; looking upon his own wisdom he beholds all varieties, all degrees and differences of being, which yet put not the least shadow of difference in him, because the excellencies of all beings are treasured up in him only by way of transcendency, not per modum compositionis, sed per modum perfectionis (as the Schools have it.) So that when God beholds all created beings by virtue of his own essence, yet you must not imagine that the formality of a creature is contained in an uncreated being, but only that there is enough of being there to give a representation of all being whatsoever. As when a glass reflects a face, there's not the least mutation in the glass, much less is the face any part of the glasses essence; though the glass give a sufficient resemblance of it. Yet herein there's this disparity, that the glass of God's essence did represent a creature, before any created face could look into it; for God looking upon himself from eternity, did then know quot moàis aliquid assimilari potuit ipsius essentiae, and did know how far such a being would imitate his essence, and how far it would fall short of it. He saw that this being would come nearer, that that being would be more distant and remote from him; this picture would be liker him, that would show very little of him. Now the actuality and existence of such an object is not requisite to the understanding of it, for how then could we conceive of the privation of a not Entity? How can we otherwise apprehend them, then by framing the notion of something positive in our minds, and supposing a total deficiency from it? Thus as they use to speak, Rectum est index sui & obliqui; & nobilissimum in unoquoque genere est mensura, & exemplar reliquorum, that first and supreme being by the great example and pattern of himself, can judge of all inferior and imperfect beings. Nor could he see them ab aeterno any otherwise then in himself, there being nothing else eternal, but himself, and in himself he could clearly see them as we see effects in their cause. All created beings were eminently contained in the Centre of one indivisible essence, who by his infinite virtue was to produce them all, who being an intelligent Centre did see those several lines that might be drawn from him, and withal, being a free and a voluntary Centre, did know how many lines he meant to draw from himself. Now you know amongst men, a demonstration à priori, is esteemed most certain and scientifical, Scire est per causas cognoscere. God thus knew creatures, perfectly knowing himself, who was the first cause of them all; This doth much speak the immutability of the eternal reason and wisdom in the mind of God, and doth remove all imperfections from it: For you see, he did not move in an axiomatical way, per compositionem & divisionem; for he saw things by his own uncompounded and indivisible essence; much less did his knowledge improve itself in a syllogistical way, deducing and collecting one thing out of another: This is the Schoolmens meaning▪ when they tell us cognitio Dei non est ratiocinativa, that is, non est discursiva. They that will light a candle may strike such sparks, but the Sun and Stars want no such light. Angels are above Syllogisms, how much more is God himself? Nay, even amongst men, first principles are above dispute, above demonstrations; now all things are more naked in respect of God himself, then common notions are to the sight of men. 'Tis a motus testudineus', a tardy▪ and tedious work, a fetching a compass, to gather one thing out of another; 'Tis the slow pace of a limited understanding. But there's no succession in God, not in the knowledge of God. There's no prius & posterius, no premises or conclusions; no transitus ab uno ad aliud, no externum medium, for he does not cognoscere per aliud medium à seipso distinctum, there's a complete simultaneity in all his knowledge, his essence is altogether, and so is his knowledge; plurality of objects will confound a finite understanding, for they must be presented by different Species, and a created eye cannot exactly view such different faces at once, such several pictures at once. The understanding sometimes loses itself in a crowd of objects; and when such a multitude comes thronging upon it, it can scarce attend to any of them. But God seeing them all per unicam speciem, per unicam operationem, takes notice of them all with an infinite delight and facility. For he loves to attend to his own essence, which doth so admirably represent them all; hence his knowledge is always in act, because his essence is a pure act; Humane understandings have much of their knowledge stored up in habits, but there are no habits in a Deity, for knowledge is dormant in a habit, but his understanding never slumbers nor sleeps: There's no potentiality in him, but he's always in ultima perfectione, he is semper in actu intelligendi, as Sol is semper in actu lucendi. Humane understandings are fain to unbend themselves sometimes, as if they were faint and weary, but Divinity is always vigorous, and Eternity can never languish. The understanding of God thus being filled with light, his Will also must needs be rational, non caeca, sed oculata notitia. This makes the Schoolmen very well determine, that though there cannot be causa divinae voluntatis; yet there may be assigned ratio divinae voluntatis. There can be no cause of his Will, for then there would be a cause of his Essence, his Will being all one with his Essence; but there cannot be causa prior primâ. Yet this account may be given of his Will, that bonum intellectum est fundamentum voliti, so that as God does primarily intelligere seipsum, so he does understand other things, only per seipsum, so likewise he does principally and necessarily velle seipsum, and does will other things secondarily, and out of choice, propter seipsum. And as God hath set all other beings a longing after the perfections and conservations of their own beings, and has in a special manner stamped upon a rational nature an intellectual appetite of its own welfare and happiness, so as that it cannot but propound an ultimate scope and end to itself, and bend and direct all its desires for the hitting and attaining of it; so he himself also sets up himself, as the most adequate and amiable end of all his workings and motions, and does bend the whole creation, does shoot every being, and order it to his own glory. Now how rational is that Will of his that does chiefly fix itself upon the fairest good, and wills other things only as they are subservient to it, Deus vult bonitatem suam tanquam finem, & vult omnia alia tanquam media ad finem. Out of the intense and vehement willing of himself, he wills also some prints and resemblances of himself. The beauty of his own face, of his own goodness is so great▪ as that he loves the very picture of it; And because one picture cannot sufficiently express it, therefore he gives such various and numerous representations of it. As when men cannot express their mind in one word, they are willing to rhetoricate and enlarge themselves into more. God doth give many similitudes of himself, for the greater explication of his own essence. His essence in itself not being capable of augmentation or multiplications, he loves to see some imitations and manifestations of it, to make known his own power & perfection in a way of causality. Now the understanding of God being so vast and infinite, and his will being so commensurate and proportioned to it, nay all one with it; all those Decrees of his that are the Eternal product and results of his mind and will, must needs be rational also; For in them his understanding and will met together, his truth and goodness kissed each other. And though these Decrees of God must be resolved into his absolute supremacy and dominion, yet that very sovereignty of his is founded upon so much reason, and does act so wisely and intelligently, as that no created understanding can justly question it, but is bound obediently to adore it. The prosecution and application of these Decrees, 'tis accompanied with the very same wisdom and reason; for what's Providence but oculus in sceptro, a rational guiding and ruling all affairs in the world, 'tis ipsa ratio divina in summo principe constituta; 'tis ratio ordinandorum in finem, that which in man is called prudence, in God is called Providence; the right tuning and regulating of all circumstances, and making them to conspire & contribute to his own end & glory. And if man could but rightly interpret and comment upon Providence, what fresh discoveries, what bright displayings of divine reason would they all continually meet withal? what shinings and sparklings of divine wisdom are there in some remarkable providential passages? You that are most acquainted with the ways of God; tell us if you did ever find any thing unreasonable in them. Inquire still more into his dealings, and you'll see more of reason in them. Could you search deeper into the rich mine of his counsel, you would still meet with more precious veins of wisdom. The depths of his counsels, what are they but the very profoundness of his reason? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 they are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And whensoever this secret counsel of his issues out and bubbles forth, it is in most rational manifestations. His commands are all rational, his word is the very pith and marrow of reason. His Law is the quickening and wakening of men's reason; his Gospel, 'tis the flowing out of his own reason; 'tis the quintessence of wisdom from above; His spirit is a rational agent; the motions of the holy Ghost are rational breath; the revelations of the holy Ghost, a rational light, as rational as a demonstration: the Apostle calls them so. As when the Spirit of God overpowers the will, it makes a willingness there, where there was an absolute nolency, an obstinate refusal before. So when it overpowers the mind, it makes it understand that which it did not, which it could not understand before. Spiritual irradiations stamp new light, create new reason in the soul; Nothing comes to man with the superscription of a Deity, but that which hath upon it some signature of wisdom. God himself is an intelligent worker in his dealing with all beings, how much rather in his dealing with rational beings? By all this you see that God himself is the Eternal spring and head of reason. And that humane wisdom is but a created and an imperfect copy of his most perfect and original wisdom.  
Now Philosophy could dictate thus much, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. God loves to see such a noble creature as man is, to follow and imitate him in his reason. Omnia intendunt assimilari Deo, as the Schoolmen have it. Now men cannot be more assimilated unto God, then by moving as intelligent agents. Does God himself work according to reason from eternity to eternity? And has he made a creature in time, whose very essence is reason? Why then does it not open its eyes? why does it not use its lamp? and though it cannot discover all, yet let it discern as much as it can. Let it not act in the choicest points of religion, out of blind and implicit principles, and huddle up its chiefest operations in I know not what confused and obscure and undigested manner. This neither becomes sons of light, nor works of light. The more men exercise reason, the more they resemble God himself, who has but few creatures that can represent him in so bright an excellency as this; only Angels and men; and therefore he expects it the more from them. And the more they exercise their own reason, the more they will admire and adore his; For none can admire reason but they that use some reason themselves. And this may suffice for the first particular, that The Candle of the Lord 'tis lumen derivatum, it was first lighted at a Sunbeam.   

CHAP. XII.  
The light of Reason is a Diminutive light.  
THis Candle of the Lord, 'tis Lumen tenue & diminutum. A Lamp is no such dazzling object. A Candle has no such goodly light, as that it should pride and glory in it. 'Tis but a brief and compendious flame, shut up, and imprisoned in a narrow compass. How far distant is it from the beauty of a Star? How far from the brightness of a Sun? This Candle of the Lord when it was first lighted up, before there was any thief in it, even than it had but a limited and restrained light. God said unto it, Thus far shall thy Light go. Hither shalt thou shine, and no farther. Adam in innocency was not to crown himself with his own sparks. God never intended that a creature should rest satisfied with its own candlelight, but that it should run to the fountain of light, and sun itself in the presence of its God. What a poor happiness had it been for a man, only to have enjoyed his own Lamp? Could this ever have been a beatifical vision? Could this light ever have made a heaven fit for a soul to dwell in? The sparkling Seraphims and glittering Cherubims (if it were possible that the face of God should be eclipsed from them, that they should have no light, but that which shines from their own essences) Blackness, and darkness, and gloominess, a total and fatal Eclipse, a present and perpetual night would rush in upon them, if the heaven were fuller of Stars than it is, and if this lower part of the world were adorned and illuminated with as many Lamps as 'tis capable of, yet would they never be able to supply the absence of one Sun. Their united light would not amount to so much as to make up one day, or one moment of a day. Let Angels and men contribute as much light as they can, let them knit and concentricate their beams; yet neither Angelical Starlight, nor the sons of men with their Lamps and Torches could ever make up the least shadow of glory, the least appearance of heaven: the least fringe of happiness. Lucifer that needs would be an Independent light that would shine with his own beams, you know that he presently sunk and fell into perpetual darkness. And Adam's Candle aspiring to be a Sun, has burnt the dimmer ever since. God taking notice of it, and spying him in the dust; Lo (says he) here lies the spark, that would needs become a God. There lies the glow-worm that would needs become a Sun. Man is become like one of us, yet notwithstanding Adam's light at first was a pure light, till he had soiled it, 'twas a Virgin-light till he had deflowered it. The breath that God breathed into him was very precious and fragrant, till he had corrupted it. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the spirit of Adam (if we should render the words so) 'twas in a special manner 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Lucerna Domini, when God raised this goodly structure of man out of nothing, he built it most completely and proportionably; he left it in statu integro & perfecto, for you cannot imagine that any obliquity, or irregularity should come from so accurate an hand as his was; when God printed the whole creation, there were no errata to be found, no blots at all. Every letter was fair and lovely, though some first and capital letters were flourished more artificially than others; Other inferior creatures would serve like so many consonants, but men were the vowels, or rather the diphthongs to praise him both in soul and body. When God first tuned the whole creation, every string, every creature praised him; but man was the sweetest and loudest of the rest, so that when that string apostatised, and fell from its first tuning, it set the whole creation a jarring. When God first planted the soul of man, it was the garden of God himself, his spiritual Eden, he loved to walk in it; 'twas full of the fairest and choicest flowers, of the most precious and delicious fruits; 'twas watered with all the fresh springs of heavenly influence: No weeds, nor briers, nor thorns to be found there. The understanding, that tree of knowledge was very tall and stately, and reaching up to heaven. There was in man a cognitio plena & lucida, as the Schoolmen speak; clara & fixa contemplatio intelligibilium. The eye of the soul 'twas quick and clear, 'twas strong and fixed, God tried it by himself, by a Sunbeam, and found it genuine. How presently did Adam by this spy out the stamps and signatures that were upon the several creatures? when by an extemporary facility, he gave them such names as should interpret and comment upon their essences (nay according to the Schoolmens determinations) man in this his primitive condition, habuit scientiam omnium natur aliter scibilium. As God framed him an elegant body, at its full height and stature, (though not with his head reaching up to heaven, as some did ridiculously fancy) so he gave him also a comely and amiable soul at its just 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 endowed with all natural accomplishments and perfections; his Dovelike spirit dwelled in a spotless and beautiful temple. This makes the Protestant Divines very well determine, that pronitas ad malum non fluit ex principiis naturae integrae; for it would be a thought too injurious to the God of Nature, to imagine he should frame evil. Yet some of the Papists and some others do constantly affirm, that such a rational being as man is, considered in pur is nature alibus, will have an unavoidable propensity unto evil, ex necessaria materiae conditione, and they bring forth such bold words as these. Deum non posse creare hominem ex anima rationali, & materiali sensibili compositum, quin praeter divinam intentionem, homo it à constitutus habeat praecipitem inclinationem ad sensibilia, their meaning is this, by reason of that intimate and essential conjunction of the sensitive powers with the intellectual, there must needs arise some ataxy and confusion in the being of man, and too great a favouring of sensitive objects, unless that inferior part of the soul be restrained supernaturali quodam fraeno (as they speak;) and say they, it was thus chained up in a state of innocency, but now being let loose, 'tis extremely wild and unruly. How derogatory is this from the goodness and power of God's creation, and from that accurate harmony and immaculate beauty that were to be found in such a noble being as man was in his native and original condition? nec fraenum nec calcar desiderabatur, for there was a just and regular tendency without the least swerving or deviation. There was no such tardity in the sensitive part as should need a spur; nor yet any such impetuousness and violence as should require a bridle. This indeed must be granted, that upon the knitting and uniting of such a soul to such a body, of sensitives to intellectuals, there will naturally follow, respectus & inclinatio ad sensibilia; and this is not praeter, sed secundùm intentionem divinam; but that this should be praeceps, rebellis, & inordinata inclinatio, is so far from being necessary, as that 'tis plainly contra-natural. For this sensitive appetite of man, is born sub regno rationis, and so is to be governed sceptro rationis. By this golden Sceptre, it was peaceably ruled in a state of innocency. Anima non aggravata erat à corpore, (as the Schoolmen say) the body though it was not beautified and clarified in the same measure that a glorified body is; yet it was dutiful and obedient, and every way serviceable to the soul. The sensitive powers were not factious, but were willingly subject to the higher powers, to the intellectuals. The first bubblings of the soul were pure and crystalline, and streamed out very freely and fluently without any murmuring, without any wavering, without any foaming. There were no violent motions, no violent perturbations which since have made such insurrections in the soul, and with their importunate breath endeavour as much as they can, to blow out this intellectual Lamp, this light of reason. There were nullae passiones, quae respiciunt malum, (as the School tells us.) There was no slavish fear to bespeak and antedate grief. There was no paleness to be seen, no tremble nor shiverings, no tears nor sighs, no blushes nor the least tincture of shame. Paradise it had so much of the Lily, as 't had nothing of the Rose, yet there were isti●smodi passiones quae ordinantur ad bonum. Joy would dance and leap sometimes, love would embrace and twine about its dearest good; such pure and noble affections as live and dwell in the breasts of glorified beings were not banished and excluded from this state of integrity. The Poets shadowed out this happy time in their golden age, though they mix some dross in the description of it. Now man being constituted in this state of natural rectitude, his Candle shining clearly, his will following cheerfully, his affections complying most suitably, a sudden cloud presently rushed upon him, and blotted all his glory. And as the Orator styled that Roman Magistrate, that was suddenly turned out of his place, Consul vigilantissimus, because he did not sleep all the time of his Consulship (for he continued but a day in it) In the very same sense, and only in this sense, man also was vigilantissimus in honore, in the Psalmists language 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 non per noctabit, he would not abide in honour, he did not lodge one night in honour. Though I am far from laying such stress upon those words, as they do, that will needs from thence measure the time so exactly, as that they'll tell you to a minute how long Adam enjoyed his first glory: This only we are sure of, it was a very brief and transient happiness, a fading and withering glory; he had wasted his Oil presently, and the Lamp was going out, but that God dropped fresh oil into it, by the promise of a Messiah. The Schoolmen are very solicitous & desirous to know how Adam's understanding being in vigore viridi could be entangled in such a snare, and deluded with such a miserable fallacy. Aquinas for his part determines hominem in primo statu decipi non potuisse, which yet is altogether unconcelvable, for how could he fall unless his head declined? 'Tis not very easily perceptible at any time; how there can be defectus in voluntate, and yet not Error in Intellectu, much less can we tell how this should come to pass, when the will was so obediently disposed ad nutum intellectûs, when it gave such observance to all the commands and dictates of the understanding, as that did in a state of innocency. And to resolve the whole anomaly and irregularity of that first prevarication, only into the wills untowardness; what is it else then to say that Adam sinned ex mera malitia, contra claritatem judicii; which is to entertain a thought very groundless, uncharitable, and dishonourable to the first root of mankind, and to make his transgression of the same dye with those damned Angelical spirits that were thrown into irrecoverable misery. Therefore Zanchy, that was one of the most scholastical amongst the Protestants, doth most judiciously conclude, that the understanding of Adam was defective in its office, by a negligent non-attendency. The eye was clear enough, the bow was strong enough, but it was not vigilant enough, it was not bend enough; the balance was not deceitful, but he forgot to weigh things in it. Now man by this fall of his was not only spoliatus supranatur alibus, but also vulneratus in ipsis naturalibus. How soon is this beautiful creature withered! his spring is gone, his May is gone, his gloss and greenness gone; the flower droops, the tree is neither so flourishing nor so fruitful, an untimely and disconsolate Autumn comes upon him. Thus the purest complexions are always most frail and brittle. Thus the highest conditions are most tottering and precipitious, and the noblest perfections, if built only upon nature's bottom, are but voluble and uncertain. There arises a sudden 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a present 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in the being of man. The Philosophers were very sensible of it, and groaned under it. You may hear them complaining of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, of the languish and faintings of the soul, of a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a spurious and adulterate kind of reason. You may hear them complaining of an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a defluvium pennarum. The wings of the soul flag, many of the feathers are sick and drop away. And that soul which was wont to build its nest in the Stars, is now fain to build it in the dust. You may hear one Philosopher complaining of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, his head, his understanding aches; another of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, his eye, his reason is dimmed; a third of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the palpitatio cordis, his soul trembles with doubts and uncertainties. You may see one grasping a cloud of Errors, another spending much of his time in untying some one knot, in solving some one difficulty; you may see some one pleasing himself, and sitting down in the shadow of his own opinion, another bending all his nerves and endeavours, and they presently snap asunder. You may see Socrates in the twilight, and lamenting his obscure and benighted condition, and telling you that his Lamp will show him nothing but his own darkness. You may see Plato sitting down by the waters of Lethe, and weeping because he could not remember his foormer notions. You may hear Aristotle bewailing himself thus, that this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 will so seldom come into act, that his abrasa tabula has so few, and such imperfect impressions upon it, that his intellectuals are at so low an ebb, as that the motions of Euri●us will pose them. You hear Zeno complaining that his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is dark, and Epictetus confessing that he had not the right ansa, the true apprehension of things; look upon the Naturalists head and you'll see it nonplussed with an occult quality, feel the Moralists pulse, (his conscience I mean) and you'll find it beating very slowly, very remissely; look upon the most speculative Eagles that stare the Sun in the face, that fly highest in contemplation, those that love to sport and play in the light; yet at length you may see the Sun striking them thorough with one of his glorious darts, and chastizing their inquisitive eyes with one of his brightest beams. The Sun 'tis ready to put out this Candle of the Lord, if it make too near approaches to it. Humane understandings are glad to wink at some dazzling objects, as vehemens sensibile doth destruere sensum: so vehemens intelligibile doth perstringere intellectum. For in all knowledge there's required a due proportion between the objectum cognoscibile, and the virtus cognoscitiva, but when the several powers and faculties of the soul lost that comely proportion which they had amongst themselves, they lost also much of that correspondency and conformity which they had to their several objects. And the soul besides its own loss, had a share in the body's loss also: for the body wanting much of that accurate and elegant composure which once it had, knowledge itself must needs be prejudiced by it; that being amongst men founded in sense, and in some measure depending upon organical dispositions. So that the streitning and stopping of these windows, must needs prohibit light. Sin entered in first at a corporeal, then at an intellectual window, and stole away the heart; and the windows have been broken ever since. I know the generality of Philosophers do partly excuse the understanding, and do blame the objects for their exility and poverty, for their little diminutive Entity, for their want of intelligibility. But the subtle Scotus doth endeavour to invalidate, that by telling them, that omnia eâdem facilitate intelliguntur à Deo. Thus much is evident and undeniable, that the spying out of a little lurking object, doth argue the strength, and quickness, and clearness of the eye. The Sun discovers atoms, though they be invisible by candlelight, yet that makes them dance naked in his beams. Created understandings want spectacles to augment and majorate some objects. But the soul never meets with more difficulty then in the understanding of spiritual beings, although they have most of Entity, and so most of intelligibility. Yet the soul being imprisoned in a body not sufficiently clarified and refined, cannot so fully close and comply with incorporeal beings. This Candle of the Lord will discover more of spirituals when 'tis took out of the Lantern in statu separato, or when 'tis put into a clearer in statu consummato. But for the present how little doth it know of itself? How little of Angels? How little of God? And yet how much might be known of them? Look but a while, (if you can endure to look) upon so unlovely and unpleasant an object, I mean upon those black and prodigious Errors, that cover and bespot the face of these times. And they'll soon convince you of the weakness and dimness of this Lamp-light of the spirit of a man. The Candle of the Lord, though it be amongst them, yet 'tis not so powerful as to scatter and conquer their thick and palpable darkness. 'Tis not an easy, nor a sudden, nor a delightful work to number so many errors, yet if I could reckon them up all, from the blundering Antinomian, to the vagabond Seeker, or the wild Seraphic, set on fire of hell, they would all serve for so many fatal examples of the miserable weakness of men's understanding. 'Tis true, they do not follow the Candle of the Lord, for then reason would have guided them better. But this very consideration shows the weakness of their candlelight, for if it had been a brighter 'twould not have been so soon put out. 'Tis easy to blow out a candle, but who can put out a Star? or who can extinguish the Sun? And men can shut up natural light, but who can imprison a Star? or who can shut up the Sun? This faint and languishing candlelight does not always prevail upon the will, it doth not sufficiently warm and inflame the affections. Men do not use to warm their hands at a candle, 'tis not so victorious and over-powerings as to scatter all the works of darkness. It will be night for all the candle; the Moralists were not only frigid in their devotions, but some of them were very dissolute in their practices. When you think upon these things, sure you'll willingly subscribe to the forementioned particular, which you may do very safely, that the spirit of a man 'tis but a Candle. Lumen exile & diminutum.   

CHAP. XIII.  
The light of Reason discovers present, not future things.  
'TIs lumen explicans praesentia, non aperiens futura, for did you ever hear of such a Lamp as would discover an object, not yet born nor yet in being? Would you not smile at him that should light up a Candle to search for a futurity? 'Tis the glorious prerogative of the Divine understanding, to have such a fair, and open, and unlimited prospect, as that in one glorious twinkling of an intellectual eye, he can see the whole compass and extent, and latitude of being; and the whole duration of being▪ for Eternity at one draught doth swallow up the whole fluency of time, and is infinitely above those temporal conditions of past, present, and to come; Nullum tempus occurrit Regi, (say the Lawyers) Nullum tempus occurrit Deo, say the Philosophers. An intellectual Sun, doth not occidere, & redire, but makes one bright and perpetual day, and by its pure and uninterrupted irradiations, doth paraphrase, and comment upon all objects, so as to uncloud and reveal the most obscure contingency, and to make it present, and naked, and visible. For as the Schoolmen tell us, Scientia Dei ad omnia presentialiter se habet, His knowledge being all one with his essence, without the least shadow of change. Insomuch as that which with men is a futurity and contingency, with him is always present and extant; which speaks for the certainty and infallibility of his prescience, though it be conversant about such things, as seem to us most casual and fortuitous. For even we ourselves know these things certainly, when they are in act, and in being, because that then they lose their volubility and contingency, and put on reality and necessity: according to that unquestionable rule, Omne quod est quando est necesse est esse, a contingency when 'tis extra suas causas, when 'tis actualy produced having a determinatum esse, it may then also have a determinate cognoscibility. Now God always thus sees a contingency in termino, in eventu, in periodo; whereas created understandings look upon it, in medio, in motu, in itinere. Nay such is the poverty & imperfection of man's knowledge, that many things which are in their own nature necessary and demonstrable; yet perhaps they know them, per modum probabilitatis & per modum ncecessitatis. But such is the height & transcendency of the Divine understanding, as that such things as are in their own natures most dubious and hover between esse and non esse; yet God knows even these per modum infallibilem, and plainly perceives which way they will incline, when men see only an equipoise and neutrality. So that the whole rise of contingency flows from the wavering of second causes. And though scientia Dei be causa rerum; yet being but causa remota, it doth not take away contingency; But God himself sees that some things will evenire contingenter: For he doth not only cognoscere res, but ordinem & modum rerum. And knows that there are some causae intermediae, mediae, which are impedibiles and defectibiles (as the Schoolmen speak somewhat rudely) and by virtue of these, there arises a contingency. Thus in a Syllogism, though the major be necessary, yet if the minor be contingent, the conclusion will be so also, and will sequi deteriorem partem; though the first cause be certain, yet if there be obstructions in the second, you cannot promise yourself what the effect will be. Though the spring of motion cannot fail, yet if the wheels may possibly break, the progress will be very uncertain to all but to God himself. For other understandings only know that the wheels may break, but God he sees whether they will break or no, so that which in respect of creatures is periculosae plenum opus aleae, in respect of God is fixum & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, determined and immovable in his everlasting thoughts. Angelical beings cannot reach to so high a perfection of knowledge as this is. For futurum quatenus futurum, is objectum improportionatum intellectui Angelico, as acute Suarez doth abundantly evince. The Philosophers find difficulty enough in explaining the manner how God hath a certain and infallible prescience of these future uncertainties. And they find it a plain impossibility for the Angels to have any such knowledge, for they neither have aeternitatem intuitûs, which should ambire in objecto suo omnes differentias temporis, which should remove all succession, all prius & posterius, and make a complete simultanëity, nor yet have they plenitudinem rationis representativae, they have no such boundless and infinite species as the Divine essence is, by which God beholds all things. Angels have neither light enough of their own to manifest a future object, nor an eye strong enough to pierce into it. They cannot infallibly foretell their own motions, because God can alter them and overpower them, much less can they know the determinations of God himself, or any operations that depend upon a free agent, till they bud and blossom in some actual discoveries and appearances. Nor are they so well acquainted with the whole context and coherence of natural agents, with all those secret twine and complications as to spy out beforehand those events which are brought forth in a casual and unusual and very unlikely manner. Whensoever then they have any prescience of future contingencies, 'tis only by revelation from God himself. They may see the face of a future object in speculo divino, but yet that's speculum voluntarium, and shows only what it pleaseth, and when, and to whom it pleaseth. The wicked Angels know this well enough, that they for their parts have no knowledge of future uncertainties, though they desire to have it as much as any, and they pretend to it as much as any; yet you know how cautelous they were in their Oracular responsals, as that elegant Moralist Plutarch doth most excellently show in several places. They always drew a curtain before their predictions, and wrapped them up in obscurity, which plainly argued a consciousness of their own ignorance in respect of future events. The good Angels are so filled with their present happiness, they are so quieted with the enjoyment of God himself, as that they are not at all solicitous, or inquisitive about future events, but they cheerfully entertain and drink in all those beams that come flowing from the face of their God, and they desire no more than he is pleased to communicate to them, nay indeed they can desire no more, for he gives them as much as they are capable of. Now if Angelical understandings are not so wide and comprehensive as to grasp and take in such objects, what mean then the sons of men to aspire and reach after the knowledge of them? if those tall and eminent beings, standing upon the mount of God cannot see them, how shall the sons of men that are of a lower stature hid in a valley, how shall they behold them? Yet there was always in the generality of mankind, a prurient desire, and hankering afterthe knowledge of future events. Men still stretch out the hand to the forbidden tree, they long for the fruit of it, and would fain be plucking some apples from it. Nay, men long for the greenest apples, for the precocious knowledge of events before they come to their just ripeness and maturity. The desire of this sets the ginger a lighting his candle at the Stars. O how doth he flatter himself in his own imaginary twincklings, and how doth he persuade the more simple & credulous part of the world that he can discover every future atom, that he can put those capital Stars, those golden letters together, and spell out all the fates of Kingdoms and persons? It makes the Augur (the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as the Greeks call him) chatter with the birds in their own dialect, and as if he were their Scholiast, he writes Comments and Expositions upon their language; O how devoutly will he listen to a prophetical Crow? how will he criticise upon the harsh accents of the screech-owl? upon the dismal and melancholy notes of the night-Raven? It makes the Auspex watch the birds in their several postures, and to be as diligent and judicious a spectator of them, as the other was an Auditor. He can interpret every fluttering, he can tell you all their journeys, where they lodged, where they baited last, what tree they visited, what bough they stayed longest upon; and at length he will pluck some pens out of their sacred wings, for the writing of all his learned predictions. It moved the Exspex to consult with the inwards, to search into the bowels of things; he'll but look upon a Liver, and will presently tell you the colour and complexion of all affairs. It caused the Aruspex to behold the behaviour of the dying sacrifice, and from the quietness or struggling of those sensitive creatures, to foretell the reluctancles or facilities in higher matters. It set the Chiromancer a studying to read those lines that seem to be scribbled upon his hand, and to explain them with his own interlineary glosses; and to look upon them as nature's M S S▪ as an Enchiridion of natures penning, in which she gave him a brief Synopsis of all such passages of his life, as should come into being afterward. It moved the Interpreter of dreams to set up his seat of Judicature in those gates of fancy, the Porta Cornea I mean, and the Porta Eburnea, and as if the night were to enlighten the day, he will regulate all his waking motions by those slumbering intimations, yet usually the interpretation of the dream is the more nonsensical dream of the two. Some others will needs cast lots for their fortunes, and think that the judgement of a die is infallible, will undertake no matters of moment till they be predetermined by it; Jacta est alea, & per praesentem sortem judicant de futurâ. A rare device to find out one contingency by another, to lose one arrow, and to shoot another after it. These are some of those many methods and contrivances, which the sons of men have contrived to themselves, for the finding out of future events. What should I tell you of the rest of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which are all but the various expressions of the same madness? What should I tell you of those several Nations that have been enamoured with these follies? the Assyrians, the Chaldeans, the Persians, the Grecians, the Romans, have had always amongst them several professors of these vanities. You see how fain the sons of men would have some key or other to unlock and open these secret and reserved passages, which Providence hath wisely shut up, and hid from the eyes of men. But Aquinas passes this censure upon them all, Hujusmodi artes non utuntur patrocinio intellectûs bene dispositi secundùm virtutem. And that sacred Author is much of the same mind▪ Frustrà illud quaeris▪ in terris quod solus Deus novit in Coelis. Yet this tree of knowledge is fair to the eye, and pleasant to the taste, the soul doth relish all notional dainties with delight, and these prenotions and anticipations of things are the more sweet and delicious to the palates and tastes of men, because most of their being is treasured up in their future condition. They have no satisfaction, no Sabbath, nor quiet in their present state, and therefore they would fain know what the next day, and what the next year, and what the next age will bring forth. The desires, the prayers, the hopes, the endeavours, the counsels of men, they all look towards the future. For (as Mirandula the younger doth well observe) the soul of man, 'tis trium temporum particeps. Tempus praeteritum memoriae, praesens intellectui, futurum voluntati congruit & respondit. God therefore that he may keep such a creature as man is in a waiting and obedient posture, in a posture of dependence and expectation, he doth choose gradually and leisurely to discover to him, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 these thoughts which he hath concerning him. God will have man in this sense in Diem vivere. to entertain fortune by the day, (as the noble Verulam saith that Prince did whose life he writes and commemorates) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; 'tis a speech that may be took in a better sense, than Anacreon e'er meant it. And so may that of the Latin Lyric, Quid sit futurum cras fuge quaerere. And the Heroical Poet shows them the necessity of this sobriety and temperance in knowledge; for saith he, Nescia mens hominum fati sortisque futurae; for men's knowledge naturally enters in at the gate of sense, but a future object can have no admission there. And as the mind cannot recall objectum totaliter praeteritum, when there is no remaining Species, neither the least print or vestigium of it; so neither can it present an object that's altogether future, and hath no such colour as can move and strike the intellectual eye; such effects indeed as are stored up in pregnant and eminent and necessary causes, may be easily and certainly foreknown by visible and unquestionable demonstrations. The foretelling of an Eclipse may be done without an Oracle, and may be believed though there be no miracle to seal and confirm it. Such effects as lurk in probable causes, that seem to promise very fairly, may be known also in an answerable, and proportionable manner, by strong and shrewd conjectures; hence spring all the praenotiones Medicorum, Nautarum, Pastorum, as the forementioned Mirandula tells us. yet the great pretenders of the Antedating knowledge, do very frequently & pro more, deceive both themselves and others in these more ordinary & easy scrutinies. This might clothe your Almanacs in more red, and put them to the blush for guessing at the weather no better, you may write upon them nulla dies sine errato, did they ne'er threaten you with thunder and lightning enough to make a Caligula prepare new Laurels; when yet the heavens proved very pacate and propitious? Did they ne'er tell you of a sad discontented day which would weep its eyes out? which yet when 'twas born proved a Democritus, and did nothing but laugh at their ignorance and folly. Did they ne'er flatter you with fine pleasant temperate weather, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the rain descended, the winds arose, the hail beat, the Prediction fell, because 'twas built upon so weak a foundation. So that Aquinas for his part thinks, that the sensitive creatures, the Crows, and the Craines, and the Swallows, those flying Almanacs, that know their appointed tims, are more happy and successful in their predictions, & are better directed by their feeling the impression of some heavenly bodies than men are by their seeing of them. Now if these Anni specula be cracked and broken, and give such unequal representations of things most obvious, how then will they be ever able to show you objects far more imperceptible and immaterial, that depend upon the will and decrees of God himself? and upon the motions of most free and indifferent agents? This makes the great Astrologo-mastix, I mean the most noble and eminent Mirandula with indignation to conclude, that this blazing Art of theirs (that is Astrology abused, for so either he means, or aught to mean) 'tis at the best but Domina & Regina Superstitionum, and he breaks out into such words as these, Vanitas vanitatum Astrologia, & omnis superstitio vanitas; yet notwithstanding God hath provided some that shall give some faint resemblances of himself, in the knowledge of future things, by a participation of light from him. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. That I may borrow these words of the Apostle, This Lumen propheticum, 'tis Lumen super naturale, Prophetical springings come not from the will of man, but from the breathe of the holy Ghost, they are impressiones & signaturae divinae scientiae. As God himself is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, so he will have a Prophet to be a shadow of himself, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which Virgil well translates, Novit namque omnia vates, Quae sint, quae fuerant, quae mox ventura trahantur. God thus revealing and communicating his mind to his Prophets doth clearly manifest, that he himself hath an exact knowledge of future events, he doth expressly show that he doth curare res humanas, that he is actor & ordinator futurorum; That his providence doth overrule the greatest contingencies. He doth therefore upbraid the Idols of the Heathens with their ignorance of these things 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Jsaiah 41. 23. Prophetical language is divini sermonis character, and doth necessarily require, super humanam cognitionem, which makes me wonder at the great Doctor Maimon, that resolves the power of prophesying into nothing else then a healthful temper, a lively complexion of body, and a vigorous mind advanced with study and industry. An opinion which smells too strongly of the Garlic and Onions of that Country, the Egyptian superstition I mean, with which he was sufficiently acquainted; yet he tells us that it's the public tenant of the Jews, sententia legis nostrae, for so he entitles it, and withal adds that the Art of prophesying (for though he does not style it so, yet he makes it so) 'tis supremus gradus hominis, & summa perfectio speciei; the qualifications which he requires are these, men must be idonei ad prophetiam ab ipsa conceptione & nativitate, there must be dispositio & dexteritas naturalis, there must be optimus humor cerebri, he must be optimus vir in intellectualibus, & moribus suis perfectus. But his principal condition is, that there must be summa facultatis imaginatricis perfectio; for saith he, if the influence of an intellectus agens, (such a one as he, falsely and vainly supposes) be poured out only upon the rational part of the soul, and doth not drop upon the fancy, either by reason of the scarcity of oil, or the incapacity of the fancy, there will be only secta sapientum speculatorum. Such men may be eminent for deep Contemplation, but they will ne'er be famous for prophesying. If the fancy be only quickened or heightened, then there will be secta Politicorum, Jurispositorum, Praestigiatorum, Incantatorum, But if the understanding, and fancy be both heightened to their due apex repent ●iunt prophetae: only this I had almost forgot which yet he thinks very convenient, that they should have good diet for the time of their prophesying; for, as he tells you, according to the mind of the Jews, Prophetia neque habitat inter tristitiam neque pigritiam; So that the terrae filii the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the vulgar sort of people are no more fit to prophecy, quâm vel Asinus vel Rana. They are his own words turned into Latin. But surely this Doctor himself did not prophecy but dream all this while; How else did he think that such a noble and spiritual employment, such a rare and glorious privilege as this is, could be raised by the power of man out of the strength of nature, that nature that's so fallen and degenerated? And what means he to limit the Holy one of Israel, and to restrain the Spirit of the Almighty? Grant that Esay was a Courtier, yet was not Amos an herdsman? and was not he also among the Prophets? Did he ne'er hear of the weaker sex sometimes prophesying? which yet was near famous for intellectuals. Does not this prophetical spirit breath when it pleaseth, and where it pleaseth, & how it pleaseth? Me thinks this second Moses should not be offended, though some of the ordinary people be Prophets. Or if natural endowments, or artificial preparations must be had, and if they of themselves be so potent, and energetical, how then comes Vision to fail, and how does Prophecy cease? Are there none that have their imagination strong enough, that have their understandings raised enough? that are of unquestionable integrity, and are not wanting in study and industry, and yet are no Prophets nor Prophet's sons? Let then this Candle of the Lord content itself with its proper object. It finds work enough and difficulty enough in the discovery of present things, and has not such a copious light as can search out future events.   

CHAP. XIV.  
The light of Reason is a certain light.  
'Tis Lumen certum. Lamp-light as 'tis not glorious, so 'tis not deceitful, though it be but a faint and languishing light. Though it be but a limited and restrained light, yet it will discover such objects as are within its own sphere with a sufficient certainty. The letters of Nature's law, are so fairly printed, they are so visible and capital, as that you may read them by this Candle-light; yet some weak and perverse beings not fit to be honoured with the name of men, slight all the workings and motions of Reason, upon this account, that they are Rolling and fluctuating, that they are treacherous and unconstant. And they look upon Logic which is nothing else but the just advancement of reason, an Art of Ripening and mellowing reason, an art of Clarifying and refining of the mind, yet they look upon it as an intellectual kind of juggling, an artificial kind of cheating and cozening their understanding: Nor were it a wonder if only the dregs of people, the rude lump of the multitude, if they only were sunk and degenerated into this folly, But I meet with a famous and ancient sect of Philosophers that delight in the name of Sceptics, who by a strange kind of Hypocrisy, and in an unusual way of affectation pretend to more ignorance than they have, nay then they are capable of. They quarrel with all Arts and Sciences, and do as much as they can to annihilate all knowledge and certainty; and profess nothing but a Philosophical kind of neutrality, and lukewarmness. Socrates did not please them; for he showed himself but a Semisceptick, one that was too confident in saying that he did hoc tantum scire, se nihil scire; for they will not allow so much knowledge as that comes to, this they tell you, that they don't know this, whether they know any thing or no. There was one sort of Academics, that came very near them, their motto was, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, their meaning was that they could not grasp or comprehend any object. Lucian (that unhappy wit) makes himself very merry with them, and laughs at one of them, that had a servant that proved a fugitive and ran away from him, his Master (says he) is very unfit to run after him 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; for he will always cry, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, I cannot reach him, I cannot come near him; yet if these Academics by their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 meant no more than this, that the whole Intelligibility of any entity, could not be exhausted by them, that they could not perfectly and powerfully pierce into any object as to discover all that was knowable in it, their opinion then was not only tolerable, but very commendable, and undeniable; for only God himself, doth thus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. There is not enough in any created lamp to give such a bright displaying of an object. Nor is there vigour enough in any created eye, so to pierce into the pith and marrow of being, into the depth and secrecy of being. But if their mind was this (as 'tis generally thought to be) that there was nothing in being so visible as that their understanding could pierce it with certainty and satisfaction, such an Error as this was very derogatory to the plenitude and exuberancy of beings that streams out in a clear cognoscibility, and 'twas very injurious to their own rational capacities, which were not made so straight and narrow-mouthed as not to receive those notions that continually drop from being: But they were contrived and proportioned for the well-coming and entertaining of truths, that love to spin and thread themselves into a fine continuity, as if they meant to pour themselves into the soul without spilling. But the Sceptics will bid you 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and will desire you not to believe one word of this. They have no less than ten several bridles, ad compescendum & cohibendum assensum; Sextus Empiricus, that grand Sceptic will give you a sight of them all, from whence they were styled 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 men that did check and constrain knowledge, that whereas the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 their adversaries ex Diametro, did lay down their determinations in a more positive & decretorious manner, these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 would take time to consider, and no less than all their life-time. They chose to be so many perpetual Questionists that would pose themselves, & rub themselves, and stay themselves finally, and would by no means be persuaded to commence or take any degree in knowledge. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that was the sum of all their Philosophy. Their most radical and fundamental principle, if they may be said to have any such, was this, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that all propositions were in aequilibrio, that there was nothing could incline the Balance this way or that, that there was an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, there was an exact equality of reason, for the affirmation or negation of any Proposition. Lucian brings in one of them with a parie of Balances in his hand, crowding three or four Arguments for the affirmative into one scale, and just as many for the negative into the other, and then telling them his meaning in these words, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. I have took (saith he) a great deal of pains in weighing of controversies, and yet find in them such an undistinguishable equipoise as that there is not in me the least inclination to one side more than the other. This they term an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a speculative kind of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, an impartiality in respect of all things. In morals they call it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; for as they would not acknowledge any verum or falsum, so neither would they trouble themselves about any turpe or honestum, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. They had no better Ethics than that speech would amount to; yet they had some laws amongst them, some customs and rules of life, but they did not observe them, some customs and rules of life, but they did not observe them as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, things that were fixed and fit to be established, they were far from being irreversible, like those of the Medes and Persians, but they put them under the head of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, laws pro tempore, such shadows and appearances as they would for the present please themselves in. And after all debates, after all their sift and discussing of affairs, they would conclude no otherwise then this. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which were all but so many frigid expressions of their hesitancy and stammering opinion. Yet this they called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a judicious pausing and deliberation which they did far prefer, or rather seem to prefer, before the daring rashness of others, that were more dogmatical and magisterial, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (as they called them) swelling bladders, empty bottles, that were stopped, and sealed up as if they had some precious liquor in them, when as they were filled with nothing but air and wind. There was more modesty and less ostentation, as they thought, in their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which they esteem no small temperanc● and sobriety in knowledge. An intellectual kind of continence and virginity to keep their mind pure and untouched, when as other understandings were ravished & deflowered with the violence of every wanton opinion. Whereas demonstrations did not move these men at all, for as they tell you, they always run, either 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they either rest in a medium equally obscure, which must needs be invalid and inefficacious, or else there will be no period at all, but a processus in infinitum, if you expect that they should acquiesce and rest contented with first principles, they know no such things, they tell you they are only some artificial pillars, which some faint and tired understandings have set up for themselves to lean upon, they won't be fettered with an Axiom, nor chained to a first principle, nor captivated by a common notion. As they break the most binding cords of demonstrations asunder, so they threaten to make these pillars of truth to tremble; to prove by a first principle (say they) 'tis but petitio principii, 'tis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'tis to beg a truth, not to evince it. If you tell them that these common notions shine with their native light, with their own proper beams; all that they return will be this, that perhaps you think so, but they do not. Yet that they might the better communicate their minds, they allowed their scholars to take some things for granted, for a while upon this condition, that they would distrust them afterwards. But these doubters, these Sceptics were never so much convinced, as when they were quickened and awaked by sensitive impressions. This made some laugh at Pyrrhon, though not the Author, (as is falsely supposed by some) yet a principal amplifier and maintainer of this Sect, (whence they had their name of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,) who when a dog was ready to bite him, he beat him away, and ran as fast as he could from him; Some that took notice of it, gave him a smiling reproof, for his apostatising from Scepticism, but he returns him this grave answer, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Where he spoke truth before he was aware, for his words are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (as I may so phrase them) a brief description of the whole drift and intention of that Sect, which was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for they had sufficiently put off Reason, and they did endeavour indeed to put off Sense as much as they could: Yet the Sceptical writer Sextus Emricus confeffes, that the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the vehemency & importunity of sensitive, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they are (saith he) so urgent and cogent, as that they do extort some kind of assent from us, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when we seem to be hungry (saith he) perhaps we go to our meat, and when we have made a show of eating, at length we seem to be satisfied, all such matters of sense they resolve into their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, into some kind of appearances that do for the present affect them. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, honey seems to be pretty sweet and pleasant to them, but whether it do not dissemble, whether it be as it seems to be, that they question. I find that Pyrrhon the great promoter and propagator of this Sect was at first a Painter by his trade, and it seems he was very loath ab arte sua recedere, for he looks upon every being as a picture and colour, a shadow, a rude draught and portraiture, a mere representation, that hath nothing of solidity or reality. These pictures of his drawing enamoured many others, for this Sect was patronised by men of acuteness and subtlety, the wits of the age, magna ingenia, sed non sine mixtura dementiae, mala punica, sed non sine grano putrido, I could name you Authors of good worth and credit, who tell you that Homer and Archilochus and Euripides, and the Wise men of Greece were all Sceptics, yet those proofs which they bring to evidence and evince it, are not so pregnant and satisfying, but that you may very lawfully doubt of it, and yet be no Sceptics neither. But Francis Mirandula reckons many very learned men that were deeply engaged in this Sect, and some others that did very near border upon it. Protagoras among the rest whom Plato frequently mentions, and whom Aristotle confutes, who was of this mind that all opinions were true, Sextus Empericus passes this censure upon him, that he was too positive and dogmatical in asserting theirs; but if he had only questioned and deliberated upon it, whether all opinions were not true, he had then been a rare and complete Sceptic. The ground that Protagoras went upon, was this, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. By 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 he meant nothing else but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and Aristotle thus explains the words, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for he made appearance of the whole essence & formality of truth. So that according to him several opinions were but the various discoveries and manifestations of truth. There was one verum quod ad te pertinet, and another verum quod ad illum pertinet. Honey was as truly bitter to a feverish palate, as it was sweet and dellcious to an ordinary taste. Snow was as truly black, in respect of Anaxagoras, as it was white in the eye and esteem of another. Thus saith he, mad men, wise men, children, old men, men in a dream, and men awake, they are all competent Judges of these things that belong to their several conditions; for (as he tells us) truth varies according to several circumstances, that's true to day, which is not true to morrow, and that's true at Rome, that's not true at Athens; that's true in this age, that's not true in the next: That's true to one man, that's not true to another. There's none of you but can spy out such a weak fallacy as this is; and if he meant to have spoken truth, he would have said no more than this, that every man thinks his own opinion true. For as the will cannot embrace an object unless it be presented sub umbra boni, so neither can the understanding close and comply with any opinion, unless it be disguised, sub apparentia veri; But to make appearance the very essence of truth, is to make a shadow the essence of the Sun, 'tis to make a picture the essence of a man. I shall say no more to Protagoras then this, that if any opinion be false, his cannot be true, but must needs be the falsest of all the rest. Yet the end that these Sceptics propound to themselves, was (if you will believe him,) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a freedom from jars and discords, from Heresy and Obstinacy, to have a mind, unprejudiced▪ unprepossest, the avoiding of perturbations a milky whiteness and serenity of soul; a fair mark indeed, but how a roving Sceptic should ever hit it, is not easily imaginable, for what Philosophy more wavering and voluble? was there ever a more reeling and staggering company? was there ever a more tumbling and tossing generation? What shall I say to these old Seekers, to this wanton and lascivious Sect, that will espouse themselves to no one opinion, that they may the more securely go a whoring after all? If they be resolved to deny all things (as they can do it very easily, and have seemed to do it very compendiously) truly than they have took a very sure way to prevent all such arguments as can be brought against them; yet because they seem to grant appearances, we will at least present them with a few 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and we will see how they will move them and affect them. 'Twere well then if Pyrrhon, the forementioned Painter, would but tell us, whether a picture would be all one with a face, whether an appearance be all one with a reality, whether he can paint a nonentity or no, whether there can be an appearance where there is no foundation for it, whether all pictures do equally represent the face, whether none can paint a little better than he used to do, whether all appearances do equally represent being? whether there are not some false and counterfeit appearances of things? If so, than his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, must needs be took away, or if there be always true and certain appearances of things, than his doubting and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 must needs vanish. When he is thirsty, and chooses rather to drink then abstain, what then becomes of his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉? if he be sure that he is athirst, and if he be sure that he seems to be athirst, what then becomes of his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉? When the dog was ready to bite him, if he was indifferent, why did he run away? if it were an appearance, why did he flee from a shadow? why was the Painter afraid of colours? If his sense was only affected, not his understanding, how then did he differ from the sensitive creature? from the creature that was ready to bite him? if he tells us that he was the hansomerpicture of the two who was it then that drew him so fairly, was it an appearance also? Doth one picture use to draw another? when he persuades men to incline to his Scepticism, what then becomes of his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉? when he makes no doubt nor scruple of denying certainty, what then becomes of his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉? but not to disquiet this same Pyrrhon any longer, I shall choose more really to scatter those empty fancies by discovering the true original and foundation, the right progress and method of all certainty.  
Now God himself, that eternal and immutable being, that fixed, and unshaken Entity, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, must needs be the fountain of certainty, as of all other perfections; and if other things be compared to him, they may in this sense, without any injury to them, be styled 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in respect of the infinite reality and weighty and massy solidity, that is in his most glorious being, by virtue of which, as himself hath everlastingly the same invariable knowledge of all things, so he is also the most knowable and intelligible object, a sun that sees all things, and is in itself most visible. An Atheist must needs be a Sceptic; for God himself is the only immovable verity upon which the soul must fix and anchor. Created beings, show their face a while, then hide it again, their colour goes and comes, they are in motu & fluxu, God is the only durable object of the soul. Now that the soul may have a satisfactory enjoyment of its 〈◊〉 and that it may be accurately made according to his image, God stamps and prints as resemblances of his other perfections, so this also of certainty upon it; How else should it know the mind of its God? how should it know to please him, to believe him, to obey him? with what confidence could it approach unto him, if it had only weak & wavering conjectures? Now God, le's the soul have some certain acquaintance with other beings for his own sake, and in order to his own glory. Nor is it a small expression of his wisdom and power, to lay the beginnings of man's certainty so low, even as low as sense; for by means of such an humble foundation the structure proves the surer and the taller. 'Tis true there is a purer and nobler Certainty in such beings as are above sense, as appears by the Certainty of Angelical knowledge, and the knowledge of God himself; yet so much certainty as is requisite for such a rational nature as man is, may well have its rising and springings out of sense, though it have more refinings and purifyings from the understanding. This is the right proportioning of his certainty to his being; for as his being results out of the mysterious union of matter, to immateriality: so likewise his knowledge and the certainty of his knowledge (I speak of natural knowledge) first peeps out in sense, and shines more brightly in the understanding. The first dawnings of certainty are in the sense, the noon-day-glory of it is in the Intellectuals. There are indeed frequent errors in this first Edition of knowledge set out by sense; but 'tis then only when the due conditions are wanting, and the understanding (as some printers use to do) Corrects the old Errata of the first Edition, and makes some new Errors in its own. And I need not tell you, that 'tis the same soul that moves both in the sense and in the understanding, for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and as it is not privileged from failings in the motions of the sense, so neither is it in all its intellectual operations, though it have an unquestionable certainty of some, in both. The certainty of sense is so great as that an Oath, that high expression of certainty, is usually and may very safely be built upon it. Mathematical demonstrations choose to present themselves to the sense, and thus become Ocular and visible. The Sceptics that were the known enemies of certainty, yet would grant more shadow and appearance of it in sense, than any where else, though erroneously. But sense that racked them sometimes, and extorted some confessions from them, which speculative principles could never do. Away then with that humour of Heraclitus that tells us 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, men's eyes (says he) are but weak and deceitful witnesses. Surely he speaks only of his own watery and weeping eyes, that were so dulled and blurred, as that they could not clearly discern an object. But he might have given others leave to have seen more than he did. Nor can I tell how to excuse Plato for too much scorning and slighting these outward senses, when that he trusted too much inwardly to his own fancy. Sextus Empiricus propounds the question, whether he were not a Sceptic, but he only showed himself a Sceptic by this, for which he moved such a question. 'Tis sure that Plato was sufficiently dogmatical in all his assertions, though this indeed must be granted, that some of his principles strike at certainty, and much endanger it; for being too fantastical and Poetical in his Phisosophy, he placed all his security in some uncertain airy and imaginary Castles of his own contriving and building and fortifing. His connate Ideas (I mean) which Artistotle could not at all confide in, but blowed them away presently; and perceiving the proud emptiness, the swelling frothiness of such Platonical bubbles, he was fain to search for certainty some where else, and casting his eye upon the ground he spied the bottom of it, lying in sense, and laid there by the wise dispensation of God himself, from thence he looked up to the highest top and Apex, to the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and pinnacle of certainty placed in the understanding. The first rudiments of certainty were drawn by sense, the completing and consummating of it was in the understanding. The certainty of sense is more gross and palpable, the certainty of intellectuals, 'tis more clear and Crystalline, more pure and spiritual. To put all certainty or the chiefest certainty in sense, would be excessively injurious to reason, and would advance some sensitive creatures above men, for they have some quicker senses than men have; sense 'tis but the gate of certainty, (I speak all this while but of humane certainty) the understanding 'tis the throne of it. Des-Cartes the French Philosopher resolves all his assurance, into thinking that he thinks, why not into thinking that he sees? and why may he not be deceived in that as in any other operations? And if there be such a virtue in reflecting and reduplicating of it, than there will be more certainty in a super-reflection, in thinking that he thinks that he thinks, and so if he run in infinitum, according to his conceit he will still have more certainty, though in reality he will have none at all, but will be fain to stop and stay in Sceptisme, so that these refuges of lies being scattered, first pinciples and common notions with those demonstrations that stream from them, they only remain, as the nerves of this assurance, as the souls of natural Plerophory; and he that will not cast Anchor upon these, condemns himself to perpetual Sceptisme; which makes me wonder at a passage of a Right honourable of our own; Though whether he be the Author of the passage, you may take time to consider it: But this it is, (the sense of it I mean) That absolute contradictions may meet together, in the same respect Esse & non esse it seems are espoused in a most near and conjugal union, and live together very affectionately and imbracingly; O rare and compendious Synopsis of all Sceptism! O the quintessence of Sextus Empiricus and the Pyrrhonian 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of all their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that which is the most paradoxical of all; you have all this in a book that calls itself by the name of truth: yet let none be so vain as to imagine that this is in the least measure spoken to the disesteem of that noble Lord, who was well known to be of bright and sparkling intellectuals, and of such singular and incomparable ingenuity, as that if he had lived till this time, we cannot doubt but he would have retracted it, or at least better explained it before this time. However I could not but take notice of so black an Error that did crush and break all these first principles, and had an irreconcilable Antipathy against reason and certainty, though it hid itself under the protection of so good and so great a name. Certainly 'tis so precious and desirable, as where God hath given it, 'tis to be kept sacred and untouched; and men are to be thankful for these Candles of of the Lord, for this Lumen certum, set up, not to mock and delude them, but to deal truly and faithfully with them.   

CHAP. XV.  
The light of Reason is directive.  
'TIs Lumen dirigens, this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'tis a light for the feet, and a Lantern for the paths. For the understanding, 'tis the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the leading and guiding power of the soul. The will looks upon that as L●eander in Musaeus looked up to the Tower for Hero's Candle, and calls it as he doth there 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Reason doth facem praeferre, it carries a Torch before the will, nay more than so, 'tis an eye to the blind; for otherwise 'twere in vain to light up a Candle for a Caeca potentia, to see withal. Intellectuals are first in motion 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, these gates of light must first be set open before any glorious and beautiful object can enter in for the will to court and embrace. The will doth but echo to the understanding, and doth practically repeat the last syllable of the ultimum dictamen, which makes the Moralist well determine virtutes morales non possunt esse sine intellectualibus; for to the presence of moral virtues there are necessarily pre-required Intelligentia & prudentia, the one being the knowledge of principia speculativa, as the other of principia operativa. That action must needs be hopeful and promising when the understanding aims before the will shoots; but he that in an implicit way rushes upon any performance, though the action itself should prove materially good, yet such a one deserves no more commendation for it, than he would do that first put out his eyes, and then contingently hit the mark. Other creatures indeed are shot more violently into their ends, but man hath the skill and faculty of directing himself, and is (as you may so imagine) a rational kind of arrow, that moves knowingly and voluntarily to the mark of its own accord. For this very end God hath set up a distinct lamp in every soul, that men might make use of their own light: all the works of men they should olere lucernam, smell of this Lamp of the Lord, that is to illuminate them all. Men are not to depend wholly upon the courtesy of any fellow-creature; not upon the dictates of men; nay not upon the votes and determinations of Angels; for if an Angel from heaven should contradict first principles, though I will not say in the language of the Apostle, let him be accursed, yet this we may safely say, that all the sons of men are bound to disbelieve him. All arguments drawn from testimony and authority, (created authority I mean) were always looked upon as more faint and languishing, than those that were fetched from reason. Matters of fact indeed do necessarily depend upon testimony, but in speculations and opinions none is bound so far to adore the lamp of another, as to put out his own for it. For when any such controversy is moved, when any Author is quoted and commended, all the credit and esteem that is to be given him, is founded either in the Reason, which he doth annex to his assertion, or else in this more remote and general reason, that such a one had a very clear and bright lamp, that the Candle of the Lord did shine very eminently in him; therefore what he says is much to be attended to, for in his words, though there should not be ratio explicata, yet it is to be supposed that there's ratio subintellecta. So that the assent here is ultimately resolved into the reason of him that speaks, and the other that receives it; for he that complies with a naked testimony, makes a tacit acknowledgement of thus much, that he is willing to resign up himself to another's reason, as being surer and fuller than his own; which temper and frame of spirit is very commendable in a state of inchoation: for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, knowledge in the cradle cannot feed itself; knowledge in its infancy must suck at the breasts of another: And babes in intellectuals must take in the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, those spoonfuls of knowledge that are put in their mouths, by such as are to nurse and to educate them. Paul when he sits at the feet of Gamaliel, must observe the prints and footsteps of the Hebrew Doctor, and must roll himself in pulvere sapientum. Knowledge in its nonage, in its pupil-age and minority must hide itself under the wing and protection of a guardian. Men use at first to borrow light, and to light their candle at the light of another's; yet here I find some licence and encouragement given to these first beginners, to these setters up in learning to be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, modestly inquisitive into the grounds and reasons of that which is delivered to them.  
Thus that sacred writer Hierom commends Marcell● though one of the weaker sex, upon this account, that she was wont to search and to examine his doctrine, it à ut me sentirem (says he) non tam discipulum habere quam judicem. Nay, a far greater than Hierome honours the Bereans, with the title of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a more noble and generous sort of Christians that would bring even Apostolical words to the touchstone. Why is it not then lawful for them that are in statu adulto, that are come to some pregnancy and maturity in knowledge, to look upon the stamp and superscription of any opinion, to look any opinion in the face? The great and noble Verulam much complains (and not without too much cause) of those sad obstructions in learning, which arose upon the extreme doting upon some Authors, which were indeed men of rare accomplishments, of singular worth and excellency, and yet but men, though by a strange kind of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a great part of the world would have worshipped as gods. The Canonising of some profane Authors, and esteeming all other as Apocryphal, hath blasted many buds of knowledge, it has quenched many sparks and beams of light, which otherwise would have guilded the world, with an Orient and unspotted lustre. far be it from me to drop one word that should tend to the staining and eclipsing of that just glory that is due to the immortal name of Aristotle. There are those that are envious and ungrateful enough, let them do it if they please; yet this I shall say, and it shall be without any injury to him, that to set him up as a Pope in Philosophy, as a visible head of the truth militant, to give him a negative voice, to give him an arbitrary power, to quote his texts as Scripture, to look upon his works as the irreversible decrees of Learning, as if he had sealed up the Canon, so that whoever adds to him, or takes one word from him, must be struck with a present Anathema to condemn all for Heretics that oppose him, for Schismatics that depart from him, for Apostates that deny him; what's all this but to forget that he was but the Candle of the Lord, and to adore him as a Sun in the firmament that was set to rule the day of knowledge? 'tis to make him an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the causa prima, the first mover of Learning, or at least least 'ttwas to make him such an Intellectus agens, as Averro would have, that must inform and quicken all that come after him. Could that modest Philosopher have foreseen and prophesied, that the world would thus flatter him, 'tis to be feared, that he would have thrown his works also, his legible self into Euripus rather than they should have occasioned such excessive Idolatry and partiality; yet 'tis no fault of his, if the world would over-admire him; for that which first enhanced the price and esteem of Aristotle, was that rich vein of reason that ran along and interlined most of his works. Let this therefore, and this only commend him still; for this is of indelible and perpetual duration; yet if these blind admirers of him, could have followed him fully and entirely, they might have learned of him a braver liberty and independency of spirit; for he scorned to enslave and captivate his thoughts to the judgement of any whatsoever; for though he did not deal violently and disingenuously with the works of his predecessors, (as some affirm) yet he dealt freely with them, and was not over-indulgent to them. He came like a Refiner amongst them, he purged away their dross, he boiled away their froth and scum, he gathered a quintessence out of their rude and elementary principles. How impartially did he deal with his Master Plato? and not favour him in any of his Errors, and his words are answerable to his practices, you may hear him what he saith, and professes, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to have a reverend esteem of Antiquity is but fitting and equal, but to stand in awe of it, is base and unworthy. Potestas senatoria is very honourable and beneficial, but dictatoria potestas, is not to be allowed in the Commonwealth of Learning; yet such hath been the intolerable tyranny and oppression of the Roman faction, as that they have enjoined and engaged as many as they could to serve and torture their wits, for the maintaining of whatever such a one as pleaseth them, shall please to say: for they care not how prejudicial or detrimental they prove to Learning, so that they may but train up their scholars in an implicit faith, in a blind obedience, in a slavish acknowledgement of some infallible judge of controversies, and may shut up and imprison the generality of people in a dark and benighted condition, not so much as allowing them the light of their own Candle, this Lamp of the Lord that ought to shine in them. That great advancer of Learning whom I commended before, takes notice, that by such unhappy means as these, the more noble and liberal sciences, have made no progress proportionable, to that which more inferior and mechanical Arts have done; for in these latter ingenia multorum in unum coëunt, whereas in the former, ingenia multorum sub uno succubuerunt. What brave improvements have been made in architecture, in manufactures, in printing, in the Pyxis nautica? For here's no limiting and restraining men to Antiquity, no chaining them to old Authors, no regulating them to I know not what prescribed forms and Canons, no such strange voices as these. You must not build better than your predecessors have done, you must not print fairer than the first Tully's Offices, that ere was printed; 'Tis not looked upon as a transgression and a piaculum, if they should chance to be a little more accurate than they were that went before them. But in speculatives, in mere Mathematics (which one would think were far enough from any breach of faith or manners) yet here if a Galilaeus should but present the world with a handful of new demonstrations, though never so warily and submissively, if he shall but frame and contrive a glass for the discovery of some more lights; all the reward he must expect from Rome, is, to rot in an Inquisition, for such unlicenced inventions, for such venturous undertake. The same strain of cruelty hath marched more vehemently and impetuously in sacred and religious matters, for here Babylon hath heated her furnace seven times hotter, whilst under the pompous name of a Catholic Church, under the glittering pretences of Antiquity and Authority, they have as much as they could put out all the Lamps of the Lord. And that Bestian Empire hath transformed all its Subjects into sensitive and irrational creatures. A noble Author of our own tells us in his book De Veritate, that he for his part takes them for the Catholic Church, that are constant and faithful to first principles; that common notions are the bottom and foundation upon which the Church is built. Excuse our diffidence here great Sir, the Church 'tis built upon a surer and higher Rock, upon a more Adamantine and precious foundation; yet thus much is acceptable and undeniable, that whoever they are that by any practices or customs, or traditions, or tenants, shall stop the passage of first principles, and the sound reason that flows from them, they are in this farther from a Church then the Indians or the Americans, whilst they are not only Antichristian, but unnatural. And of the two the Church hath more security in resting upon genuine Reason, then in relying upon some spurious traditions; for think but a while upon those infinite deceits and uncertainties that such Historical conveyances are liable and exposed to, I always except those sacred and heavenly volumes of Scripture, that are strung together as so many pearls, and make a bracelet for the Spouse to wear upon her hands continually: These writings the providence of God hath deeply engaged itself to keep as the apples of his own eye. And they do not borrow their certainty or validity from any Ecclesiastical or universal Tradition (which is at the most but previous and preparatory) but from those prints of Divinity in them, and specially from the seal of the same Spirit that indicted them, and now assures the soul, that they were Oracles breathed from God himself. As for all other sacred Antiquity, though I shall ever honour it as much as any either did or can do justly, and with sobriety; and shall always reverence a gray-headed truth; yet if Antiquity shall stand in competition with this Lamp of the Lord (though genuine Antiquity would never offer to do it) yet if it should, it must not think much if we prefer Reason, a daughter of Eternity, before Antiquity, which is the offspring of time. But had not the spirit of Antichristianisme by its early twine and insinuations wound and wrought itself into most flourishing and primitive times, into the bosom of a Virgin-Church, and had it not offered violence to the works of some sacred writers, by detracting and augmenting according to its several exigencies, by feigning and adulterating, by hiding and annihilating some of them, as much as they could, (the ordinary tricks of Antichrist, which he used always more subtly, though of late more palpably) had it not been for such devices as these, Antiquity had come flowing to us, in purer and fuller streams, in more fair and kindly derivations, and so might have run down more powerfully and victoriously then now it will. But Antichrist hath endeavoured to be the Abaddon and the Apollyon of all sacred antiquities, though the very relics of those shining and burning lights that adorned the Church of God, have splendour enough to scatter the darkness of Popery, that empty shadow of Religion, that arises ob defectum Luminis; yet Antiquity (setting aside those that were peculiarly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) was but the first dawning of light which was to shine out brighter and brighter, till perfect day. Let none therefore so superstitiously look back to former ages, as to be angry with new opinions and displayings of light, either in Reason or Religion. Who dares oppose the goodness and wisdom of God? if he shall enamour the world with the beauty of some pearls and jewels, which in former times have been hid, or trampled upon? if he shall discover some more light upon earth, as he hath let some new Stars be found in the heavens; This you may be sure and confident of, that 'tis against the mind and meaning of Antiquity to stop the progress of Religion and Reason. But I know there are some will tell us of a visible tribunal, of an infallible head of the Church borne to determine all controversies, to regulate all men, 'tis a wonder they do not say Angels too. Others more prudently and equally resolve the final judgement of Controversies into a general and ecumenical Council, but I shall speak to them all, in the language of the Philosopher, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and I shall explain it according to the mind of the learned Davenant in his discourse de indice ac norma fidei & Cultûs Christiani: God only is to rule his own Church 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, judicio autoritativo, by a determining and Legislative power. Men that are fitted by God himself, are to guide and direct it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, judicio ministeriali, in way of subserviency to him, by an explication of his mind, yet so as that every one may judge of this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, judicio privato & practicae discretionis, by acts of their own understanding illuminated by the Spirit of God; for there are no representatives in intellectuals and spirituals. Men may represent the bodies of others, in Civil and Temporal affairs in the acts of a Kingdom, and thus a bodily obedience is always due to just authority; but there is none can always represent the mind and judgement of another in the vitals and innards of Religion; for I speak not of representations in outward order and discipline. A general council does and may produce judicium forense, but still there is reserved, to every single individuum, judicium rationale; for can you think that God will excuse any one from Error upon such an account as this, such a Doctor told me thus; such a piece of Antiquity informed me so, such a general Council determined me to this; where was thine own Lamp all this while? where was thy ratio illuminata & guhernata, secundùm normas bonae & necessariae consequentiae rationali creaturae impressas? Yet this must be gratefully acknowledged that these general Counsels have been of public influence, of most admirable use and advantage to the Church of God; though they are not of the very Essence of it; for 'tis well known that there were none of them till the days of Constantine's: But herein is the benefit of Counsels, that they are (or aught to be) a comparing and collecting of many Lights, an uniting and concentricating of the judgements of many holy, learned, wise Christians with the Holy Ghost breathing amongst them, though not always so fully and powerfully as that they shall be sure to be privileged from every Error, but being all of them subject to frailty and fallibility, and sometime the major part of them proving the pejor part, there is none bound to give an extemporary assent to their votes and suffrages, unless his mind also concur with theirs. That worthy Divine of our own, whom I mentioned before, speaks very fully and clearly to this, Ad nudam praescriptionem, aut determinationem alterius sine lumine privati judicii nemo est qui credere potest etiamsi cupiat maximé. The most eminent Mirandula will give you the reason of it; for (says he) Nemo credit aliquid verum praecisè quia vult credere illud esse verum, non est enim in potentia hominis facere aliquid apparere intellectui suo verum, quando ipse voluerit. But before there can be faith in any soul, there must be cognitio propositionis credendae, and there must be inclinatio intellectûs ad assentiendum huic propositioni revelatae, & cognitae; Before you understand the terms of any proposition, you can no more believe it, then if it came to you in an unknown tongue. A Parrot may repeat the Creed thus, Corvos poëtas poëtridásque picas cantare credas Pegaseïum melos. Though such at length may very safely conclude, as that talkative bird is reported to have done by a happy and extemporary contingency, Operam & oleum perdidi. This is the misery of those implicit believers amongst the Papists (and 'tis well if not among some Protestants too) that do in aliorum sententias pedibus potius quam cordibus ire, dancing in a circular kind of faith, they believing as the Church believes, and the Church believing as they believe, etc. and this is with them, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the whole perfection of a Roman Catholic. Yet let none be so foolish or wicked as to think that this strikes at any thing, that is truly or really a matter of faith, when as it doth only detect the wretched vanity and deceit of a Popish and implicit credulity, which commands men to put out their Lamps, to pluck out their eyes, and yet to follow thelr leadets, though they rush upon the mouth of hell and destruction, whereas 'tis better to be an Argus in obedience, than a Cyclops a monstrum horrendum, etc. An eye open is more acceptable to God than an eye shut. Why do they not as well command men to renounce their sense, as to disclaim their understandings? Were it not as easy a tyranny to make you to believe that to be white which you see to be black, as to command you to believe that to be true, which you know to be false? Neither are they at all wanting in experiments of both; for Transubstantiation, that heap and crowd of contradictions doth very compendiously put out the eyes of sense and reason both at once: yet that prodigious Error was established in the Lateran Council under Innocent the third, which (as some contend) was a general and Ecumenical Council. And if the Pope whom they make equivalent to all Counsels, nay transcendent, if he in Cathedra shall think fit to determine, that the right hand is the left, they must all immediately believe him, under pain of damnation. So that first principles, common notions with the products and improvement of them, must needs be looked upon as of bad consequence, of pernicious influence at Rome; what, to say that two and two makes four, the totum's majus parte (especially if the Church shall determine against it) O dangerous point of Socinianism! O unpardonable Heresy of the first magnitude! Rebellion against the Catholic Church! a proud justling against the Chair of infallibility! Away with them to the Inquisition presently, deliver them up to the Secular powers, bring fire and faggot immediately; Bonners learned demonstrations, and the bloody discipline of the scarlet and purple Whore. No wonder that she puts out the Candle, and loves darkness rather than light, seeing her deeds are evil. She holds a Cup in her hand, and won't let the world sip and taste, and see how they like it, but they must swallow down the whole Philtrum and potion without any delay at all. Thus you may see the weak reeds that Babylon leans upon, which now are breaking and piercing her thorough. But Religion framed according to the Gospel, did always scorn and refuse such carnal supports as these are. That truth that must look the Sun in the face for ever, can you think that it will fear a Candle? must it stand in the presence of God, and will it not endure the trial of men? Or can you imagine that the Spouse of Christ can be so unmerciful as to pull out her children's eyes? though she may very well restrain their tongues sometimes, and their pens if they be too immodest and unruly; I shall need to say no more than this, that true Religion never was, nor will be, nor need be shy of sound Reason which is thus far Lumen dirigens, as that 'tis obliged by the will and command of God himself, not to entertain any false religion, nor any thing under pretence of Religion that is formally and irreconciliably against Reason. Reason being above humane testimony and tradition, and being only subordinate to God himself, and those Revelations that come from God; now 'tis express blasphemy to say that either God, or the Word of God did ever, or ever will oppose Right Reason.   

CHAP. XVI.  
The light of Reason is calm and peaceable.  
'TIs Lumen tranquillnm & amicum, 'tis a Candle, not a Comet, it is a quiet and peaceable light. And though this Candle of the Lord may be too hot for some, yet the Lamp 'tis only maintained with soft and peaceable Oil. There is no jarring in pure intellectuals; if men were tuned and regulated by Reason more, there would be more Concord and Harmony in the world. As man himself is a sociable creature, so his Reason also is a sociable Light. This Candle would shine more clearly and equally if the winds of passions were not injurious to it. 'Twere a commendable piece of Stoicism, if men could always hush and still those waves that dash and beat against Reason, if they could scatter all those clouds that soil and discolour the face and brightness of it, would there be such fractions and commotions in the State, such Schisms and Ruptures in the Church, such hot and fiery persecutions of some trifling opinions? If the soft and sober voice of Reason were more attended to, Reason would make some differences kiss and be friends, 'twould sheathe up many a sword, 'twould quench many a flame, 'twould bind up many a wound. This Candle of the Lord 'twould scatter many a dark suspicion, many a sullen jealousy. Men may fall out in the dark sometimes, they cannot tell for what, if the Candle of the Lord were but amongst them, they would chide one another for nothing then but their former breaches, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 it calms and composes a soul, whereas passion, as the grand Stoic Zeno paints it, is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. An abounding and over-boyling impetus, a preternatural agitation of soul, animi commotio aversa à recta ratione, & contra naturam, as the Orator styles it. The soul 'tis tossed with passion, but it anchors upon Reason. This gentleness and quietness of Reason doth never commend itself more then in its agreeing and complying with faith, in not opposing those high and transcendent mysteries that are above its own reach and capacity; nay it had always so much humility and modesty, waiting and attending upon it, that it would always submit and subordinate itself to all such divine revelations as were above its own sphere. Though it could not grasp them, though it could not pierce into them; yet it ever resolved with all gratitude to admire them, to bow its head, and to adore them. One light does not oppose another; Lumen fidei & Lumen rationis, may shine both together though with far different brightness; the Candle of the Lord, 'tis not impatient of a superior light, 'twould both far parem & priorem. The light of the Sun that indeed is Lumen Monarchicum, a supreme and sovereign light, that with its golden Sceptre rules all created sparkles, and makes them subject and obedient to the Lord and rule of light. Created intellectuals depend upon the brightness of God's beams, and are subordinate to them, Angelical Starlight is but Lumen Aristocraticum, it borrows and derives its glory from a more vast and majestical light. As they differ from one another in glory, so all of them infinitely differ from the Sun in glory. Yet 'tis far above the Lumen Democraticum, that light which appears unto the sons of men, 'tis above their lamps & Torches, poor and contemptible lights, if left to themselves; for do but imagine such a thing as this, that this external and corporeal world should be adjudged never to see the Sun more, never to see one Star more. If God should shut all the windows of heaven, and spread out nothing but clouds and curtains, and allow it nothing but the light of a Candle, how would the world look like a Cyclops with its eye put out? 'Tis now but an obscure prison with a few grates to look out at; but what would it be then, but a capacious grave, but a nethermost dungeon? yet this were a more grateful shade, a pleasanter and more comely darkness, then for a soul to be condemned to the solitary light of its own Lamp, so as not to have any supernatural irradiations from its God. Reason does not refuse any auxiliary beams, it joys in the company of its fellow-Lamp, it delights in the presence of an intellectual Sun, which will so far favour it, as that 'twill advance it, and nourish it, and educate it; 'twill increase it,, and inflame it, and will by no means put it out. A Candle neither can nor will put out the Sun, & an intellectual Sun, can, but will not put out the Lamp. The light of Reason doth no more prejudice the light of faith, than the light of a Candle doth extinguish the light of a Star. The same eye of a soul may look sometimes upon a Lamp, and sometimes upon a Star; one while upon a first principle, another while upon a revealed truth, as hereafter it shall always look upon the Sun and see God face to face; Grace doth not come to pluck up nature as a weed, to root out the essences of men; but it comes to graft spirituals upon morals, that so by their mutual supplies and intercourse they may produce most noble and generous fruit. Can you tell me why the shell and the kernel may not dwell together? why the bodies of nature may not be quickened by the soul of grace? Did you never observe an eye using a prospective-glass, for the discovering and amplifying and approximating of some remote and yet desirable object? and did you perceive any opposition between the eye and the glass? was there not rather a loving correspondency and communion between them? why should there be any greater strife between Faith and Reason, seeing they are brethren? do they not both spring from the same Father of Lights, and can the Fountain of love and unity, send forth any irreconcilable streams? do you think that God did ever intend to divide a rational being, to tear and rend a soul in pieces, to scatter principles of discord and confusion in it? If God be pleased to open some other passage in the soul, and to give it another eye, does that prejudice the former? Man you know is ordained to a choicer end, to a nobler happiness, then for the present he can attain unto, and therefore he cannot expect that God should now communicate himself in such bright and open discoveries, in such glorious manifestations of himself, as he means to give hereafter. But he must be content for the present, to behold those infinite treasures of reserved love, in a darker and more shadowy way of faith, and not of vision: Nature and Reason are not sufficiently proportioned to such blessed objects, for there are such weights of glory in them, as do opprimere ingenium humanum, there are such depths, such pleonasmes, such oceans of all perfections in a Deity as do infinitely exceed all intellectual capacity but its own. The most that man's Reason can do, is to fill the understanding to the brim, but faith that throws the soul into the Ocean, and lets it roll and bathe itself in the vastness and fullness of a Deity. Could the sons of men have extracted all the spirits of Reason, and made them meet and jump in one head; nay, could Angels and men have united and concentricated all their Reason, yet they would never have been able to spy out such profound and mysterious excellencies, as faith beholds in one twinkling of her eye. Evangelical beauties shine through a veil that's upon their face; you may see the precious objects of faith like so many pearls and diamonds sparkling and glittering in the dark. Revealed truths shine with their own beams, they do not borrow▪ their Primitive and original lustre from this Candle of the Lord, but from the purer light, wherewith God hath clothed and attired them as with a garment; God crowns his own Revelations with his own beams. The Candle of the Lord it doth not discover, it doth not oppose them, it cannot eclipse them. They are no sparks of Reasons striking, but they are flaming darts of heavens shooting, that both open and enamour the soul. They are Stars of Heavens lighting, men behold them at a great distance twinkling in the dark. Whatsoever comes in God's name does aut invenire viam, aut facere. Whatever God reveals in his Word, 'tis supra providentiam rerum communem constitutum. 'Tis not in the road of nature, and therefore for the welcoming and entertaining of it (as a noble Author of our own doth very well observe,) explicatur sensus quidam supernaturalis, & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, there's an opening of a new window in the soul, an intellectual eye looks out at the window, and is much pleased and affected with the oriency of that light that comes springing and rushing in upon it; as there's a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, so there's an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 too; the one 'tis written by the pen of nature; the other by the finger of the Spirit, for ubi desinit natura, ibi incipit gratia; and this second Edition set out by Grace, 'tis auctior & emendatior, yet so as it doth not at all contradict the first Edition, that was set out by Nature; for this is the voice of Nature itself, that whatsoever God reveals must needs be true; and this common Principle is the bottom and foundation of all Faith to build upon. The soul desires no greater satisfaction than an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for if God himself say it, who can question it? who dare contradict i●? Reason will not, Reason cannot; for it does most immovably acknowledge a Deity, and the unquestionable truth of a Deity: in all believing there is an assent, a yielding to him that speaks by virtue of his own Authority; though he don't prove it, though he don't evince it. Now men themselves look upon't as a contempt and injury not to have their words taken, and Reason itself dictates thus much, that we are to believe such a one whom we have no reason to distrust; for without some Faith there would be no commerce nor traffiking in the world, there's no trading without some trusting. A general and total incredulity would threaten a present and fatal dissolution to humane society. Matters of fact are as certain in being and reality, as demonstrations; yet in appearance most of them can never be proved or evinced any other way then by mere testimony much historical knowledge, many a truth has been lost and buried in unbelief, when as many a falsity in the mean time has proved more fortunate and triumphant, & has passed currently through the world under the specious disguise of probability; yet because no created being is infallible or authentical, because the sons of men are so easily deceived themselves, and are so apt and propense to deceive and impose upon others, 'twill be very lawful to move slowly and timerously, warily and vigilantly in our assents to them; for a sudden and precocious faith here, is neither commendable nor durable: But God being truth itself, an Eternal, Immutable truth, his word being vehiculum veritatis; and all Revelations flowing from him, shining with the prints and signatures of certainty, hence it is that his naked word is a demonstration; and he that won't believe a God, is worse than a Devil, he is the blackest Infidel that was e'er yet extant. This sin is so unnatural, as that none but an Atheist can be guilty of it; for he that acknowledges a Deity, and knows what he acknowledges, sure he won't offer to make his God a liar. That which might otherwise seem to some to be against Reason, yet if it bring the seal of God in its forehead, by this you may know that 'tis not against Reason. Abraham's slaying of his son may seem a most horrid and unnatural act, against the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, against the Candle of the Lord, yet being commanded and authorized by God himself, the Candle durst not oppose the Sun. That pattern of faith the father of the faithful does not dispute and make Syllogisms against it; he does not plead that 'tis against common Notions, that 'tis against Demonstrations (for he had said if he had said so,) but he doth dutifully obey the God of Nature, that high and supreme Lawgiver, who by this call and voice of his did plainly and audibly proclaim, that for Abraham to kill his son in these circumstances, was not against the Law of Nature. So that all the stress and difficulty will be to know whether God reveals such a thing or no; for here Reason (corrupt reason I mean,) is wont to slip and evade, and when it cannot frame a conceit adequate & commensurate to some transcendent and superlative mysteries, it would then fain cloud them and eclipse them, that it may quench and avoid the dazzling brightness of them. It would fain make them stoop and condescend to its own capacity, and therefore it puts some inferior notion upon them. When it cannot grasp what God saith, it then presently questions whether God say so or no, whether that be the mind of his Word. Hence many may err very deeply and dangerously, yet will acknowledge the Scriptures, they will own and honour them as the Word of God; for they are not yet arrived to that full perfection of Error, as those lumps and dunghills of all Sects, I mean that young and upstart generation of gross Anti-Scripturists, that have a Powder-plot against the Gospel, that would very compendiously behead all Christian Religion at one blow, a device which old and ordinary Heretics were never acquainted withal. Though they be not come to such an height as this, yet either by their flat and frigid explicating, they do endeavour to dispirit and evervate the Word of God; or else in a more violent and injurious manner, they do even ravish it, and deflower the virginity of it, or else in a more subtle and serpentine manner, they seek to bend the rule, and expound it to their purposes and advantages. The letter of the word, the vagina verbi that does not wound them, that does not strike them, and as for the edge they think they can draw that as they please, they can blunt it as they list, they can order it as they will. But the Law of sound Reason and Nature does oppose such unworthy dealings as these are; for men look upon't very heinously to have their words misinterpreted, to have their meaning wrested and violenced. Can you think that the majesty of Heaven will allow or endure that a creature should study or busy itself in perverting his words, in corrupting his meaning, in blending it and mixing it with the crude imaginations of their own brain? That Spirit which breathed out the word at first, and which convinces and satisfies the soul, that 'tis the word of God; the very same Spirit is the Interpreter of it, he is the Commentator upon it. The text is his, and the gloss is his, and whosoever shall call this a private spirit, must needs be a bold blasphemer, a Jesuit, an Atheist. But they that know what the Spirit of God is, will easily grant that the Spirit of God unsheaths his own sword, that he polishes Evangelical Pearls, that he anoints and consecrates the eye of the soul, for the welcoming and entertaining of such precious objects. 'Tis true indeed, that some explications are so impertinent and distorted, as that a profane and carnal eye may presently discern that there was either some violence or deceit used in them, as who cannot tell when any Author is extremely vexed and wronged? but if there be any such obscurity as may give just occasion of doubting and dissidence, who then can be fitter to clear and unfold it, than the Author himself? nay, who can explain his mind certainly but he himself? is it not thus in spirituals much rather? When God scatters any twilight, any darkness there, is it not by a more plentiful shedding abroad of his own beams? such a knot as created understanding cannot untie, the edge of the Spirit presently cuts asunder; Nor yet is providence wanting in external means, which by the goodness and power of God, were annexed as sigilla verbi, miracles I mean, which are upon this account very suitably and proportionably subservient to Faith, they being above natural power, as revealed truths are above natural understanding. The one's above the hand of nature, as the other's above the head of nature; But Miracles, though they be very potent, yet they are not always prevalent, for there were many spectators of Christ's Miracles, which yet like so many Pharaohs were hardened by them, and some of them that beheld them were no more moved by them, than some of them who only hear of them; will not at all attend to them. So that only the seal of the Spirit can make a firm impression upon the soul, who writes his own word upon the soul with a conquering and triumphant Sunbeam, that is impatient either of cloud or shadow. Be open therefore ye everlasting doors, and stand wide open ye intellectual gates, that the spirit of grace and glory, with the goodly train of his revealed truths may enter in. There's foundation for all this in a principle of nature; for we must still put you in mind of the concord that is betwixt Faith and Reason. Now this is the voice of Reason, that God can, and that none but God can assure you of his own mind; for if he should reveal his mind by a creature, there will still be some tremble and waver in the soul, unless he does withal satisfy a soul, that such a creature does communicate his mind truly and really as it is, so that ultimately the certainty is resolved into the voice of God, and not into the courtesy of a creature. This holy Spirit of God creates in the soul a grace answerable to these transcendent objects, you cannot but know the name of it, 'tis called Faith, Supernaturalis forma fidet, as Mirandula the younger styles it, which closes and complies with every word that drops from the voice or pen of a Deity, and which facilitates the soul to assent to revealed truths; So as▪ that with a heavenly inclination, with a delightful propension it moves to them as to a centre. Reason cannot more delight in a common notion or a demonstration, than Faith does in revealed truth. As the Unity of a Godhead is demonstrable and clear to the eye of Reason, so the Trinity of persons, that is, three glorious relations in one God is as certain to an eye of Faith. 'Tis as certain to this eye of Faith that Christ is truly God, as it was visible to an eye both of Sense and Reason that he is truly man. Faith spies out the resurrection of the body; as Reason sees the immortality of the soul. I know there are some Authors of great worth and learning, that endeavour to maintain this Opinion, that revealed truths, though they could not be found by reason, yet when they are once revealed, that Reason can then evince them and demonstrate them: But I much rather ●ncline to the determinations of Aquinas, and multitudes of others that are of the same judgement, that humane Reason when it has stretched itself to the uttermost, is not at all proportioned to them, but at the best can give only some faint illustrations, some weak adumbrations of them. They were never against Reason, they were always above Reason. 'Twill be employment enough, and 'twill be a noble employment too, for Reason to redeem and vindicate them from those thorns and difficulties, with which some subtle ones have vexed them and encompassed them. 'Twill be honour enough for Reason to show that Faith does not oppose Reason; and this it may show, it must show this; for else 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, those that are within the enclosure of the Church will never rest satisfied, nor 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Pagans, Mahumetans, Jews, will ever be convinced. God indeed may work upon them by immediate revelation; but man can only prevail upon them by Reason; yet 'tis not to be expected, nor is it required, that every weak and newborn Christian, that gives real assent, and cordial entertainment to these mysterial truths, should be able to deliver them from those seeming contradictions which some cunning adversaries may cast upon them. There are some things demonstrable, which to many seem impossible, how much more easily may there be some matters of faith which every one cannot free from all difficulties. 'Tis sufficient therefore for such, that they so far forth understand them as to be sure that they are not against Reason, and that principally upon this account, because they are sure God has revealed them. And others that are of more advanced and elevated intellectuals, may give such explications of them, as may disentangle them from all repugnancy, though they cannot display them in their full glory. Nor must the multitude or strength and wit of opposers fright men out of their Faith and Religion. Though the major part of the world do disesteem and look upon them as mere contradictions; yet this being the censure of mo●● unequal and incompetent judges, is not at all prejudicial to their worth and excellency; for to most of the world they were never revealed so much as in an external manner, and to all others that refuse and reject them, they were never powerfully revealed by the irradiations of the Holy Ghost. So that one affirmative here is to be preferred before a whole heap of negatives; the judgement of one wise, enlightened, experienced, spiritualised Christian is more to be attended to, than the votes and suffrages of a thousand gainsayers; because this is undeniable, that God may give to one that Eye, that Light, that discerning power, which he does deny to many others. 'Tis therefore a piece of excessive vanity and arrogancy in Socinus, to limit and measure all Reason by his own. Nor does this put any uncertainty in Reason, but only a diversity in the improving of it, one Lamp differs from another in glory; and withal it lays down an higher and nobler principle than Reason is: for in things merely natural, every rational being is there a competent Judge in those things that are within the Sphere & compass of Reason, the Reason of all men does agree and conspire, so as that which implies an express and palpable contradiction, cannot be owned by any; but in things above Nature and Reason, a paucity here is a better argument than a plurality; because Providence uses to opèn his Cabinets only for his Jewels. God manifests these mysterious secrets only to a few friends, his Spirit whispers to a few, shines upon a few, so that if any tell us that Evangelical mysteries imply a contradiction, because they cannot apprehend them, it is no more than for a blind man confidently to determine, that it involves a contradiction to say there is a Sun, because he cannot see it. Why should you not as well think that a greater part of the world lies in Error, as that it lies in wickedness? is it not defective in the choicest intellectuals, as well as in the noblest practicals? Or can any persuade himself, that a most eminent and refined part of mankind, and (that which is very considerable) a Virgin-company which kept itself untouched from the pollutions of Antichrist upon mature deliberation, for long continuance upon many debatings, examining, discussing, constantprayers unto God for the discovery of his mind, should all this while embrace mere contradictions, for the highest points of their Religion? or can any conceive that these Evangelical Mysteries were invented, and contrived, and maintained by men? Could the Head of a creature invent them? could the arm of a creature uphold them? have they not a Divine super-scription upon them? have they not an heavenly original? or can you imagine that Providence would have so blest and prospered a contradiction? as always to pluck it out of the paws of devouring adversaries? when the whole Christian world was ready to be swallowed up with Arrianisme, dare any to say that God then prepared an Ark only for the preserving of a contradiction? Providence does not use to countenance contradictions, so as to let them ride in triumph over Truth. The most that any opposer can say, if he will speak truth, is no more than this, that they seem to him to imply a contradiction? which may very easily be so, if he want an higher principle of faith, suitable and answerable to these matters of faith, both of them (the principle and object I mean) being supernatural, neither of them contranatural; for there is a double modesty in Reason very remarkable; As it does not multa asserere, so it does not multa negare; as it takes very few things for certain, so it concludes very few for impossible; Nay, Reason though she will not put out her eye, for that's unnatural, yet she will close her eye sometimes, that faith may aim the better, and that's commendable: And Faith makes Reason abundant compensation for this; for as a learned Author of our own, and a great Patron both of Faith and Reason, does notably express it, Faith is a supply of Reason in things intelligible, as the imagination is of light in things visible. The imagination with her witty and laborious pencil draws and represents the shapes, proportions and distances of persons and places, taking them only by the help of some imperfect description, and 'tis feign to stay here, till it be better satisfied with the very sight of the things themselves. Thus Faith takes things upon an heavenly representation and description, upon a word, upon a promise, it sees a heavenly Canaan in the Map before an intellectual eye can behold it in a way of clear and open vision; for men are not here capable of a present Heaven, and happiness of a complete and beatifical vision; and therefore they are not capable of such mysteries in their full splendour and brightness; for they would make it, if they were thus unfolded, but they now flourish only in the latices, as Christ himself the Head of these Mysteries; they do 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they put a veil upon their face, out of pure favour and indulgence to an intellectual eye, lest it should be too much overcome with their glory; the veils of the Law were veils of obscurity, but the veils of the Gospel are only to allay the brightness of it. 'Tis honour enough for a Christian, if he can but touch the hem of Evangelical Mysteries, for he will never see a full Commentary upon the Gospel, till he can behold the naked face of his God. Yet the knowledge which he hath of him here, imperfecta cognitio rerum nobilissimarum, 'tis most pleasant and delicious. 'Tis better to know a little of God and Christ, then to see all the creatures in their full beauty and perfection. The glean of spirituals is better than the vintage of naturals and morals. The least spangle of happiness is better than a globe of temporals. This sets a gloss and lustre upon Christian Religion, and highly commends the purity and perfection of it, above all other whatsoever, in that it hath 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Christ tries all his followers by his own Sunbeams. Whereas the dull and creeping religion of Mahomet has nothing at all above Nature and Reason, though it may have many things against both; no need of Faith there, there are no Mysteries in his Alcoran, unless of deceit and iniquity. Nothing at all nisi quod de facili, à quolibet mediocriter sapiente naturali ingenio cognosci potest, as that solid Author very well observes. And therefore that stupid imposter did not seal his words with any miracles, for there was not one supernatural truth to be sealed, nor could he have sealed it if it had been there, but only he prosecutes it with a sword. Mahomet's Loadstone does not draw men, but his sword that conquers them, he draws his sword, he bids them deliver up their souls, and tells them, that upon this condition he will spare their lives. Signa illa quae tyrannis & latronibus non desunt, as he speaks notably. But the very principles of Christian Religion are attractive and magnetical, they enamour and command, they overpower the understanding, and make it glad to look upon such mysterious truths as are reflected in a glass, because it is unable to behold them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. This speaks the great preeminence of Mount Zion above Mount Sina. In the Law you have the Candle of the Lord shining; in the Gospel you have the dayspring from on high, the Sun arising. Nature and Reason triumph in the Law, Grace and Faith flower out in the Gospel. By virtue of this wise and free dispensation, weak ones chiefly receive the Gospel, for they are as well able to believe as any other, nay they are apt to believe then others. If it had gone only by the advancement of intellectuals, by the heightenings and clarifying of Reason, who then would have been saved but the grandees of the world? the Scribes, the Pharisees, the Philosophers, the Disputers? but God has framed a way that confounds those heads of the world, and drops happiness into the mouths of babes. There are some understandings that neither spin nor toil, and yet Solomon in all his wisdom and glory was not clothed like one of these: for this way of Faith 'tis a more brief & compendious way Longum iter per Rationem, breve per Fidem. Very few understandings much less all can demonstrate all that is demonstrable, but if men have a power of believing, they may presently assent to all that's true and certain. That which Reason would have been sweeting for this many a year, Faith sups up the quintessence of in a moment. All men in the world have not equal abilities, opportunities, advantages of improving their Reason, even in things natural and moral, so that Reason itself tells us, that these are in some measure necessitated to believ others. How many are there that can't measure the just magnitude of a Star, yet if they will believe an Astronomer, they may know it presently, and if they be sure that this Mathematician hath skill enough, and will speak nothing but truth, they cannot then have the least shadow of Reason to disbelieve him. 'Tis thus in spirituals, such is the weakness of humane understanding pro hoc statu, as that they are necessitated to believing here; yet such is its happiness, that it hath one to instruct it who can neither deceive nor be deceived. God hath chosen this way of Faith, that he may stain the pride and glory of man, that he may pose his intellectuals, that God may maintain in man great apprehensions of himself, of his own incomprehensibleness, of his own truth, of his own revelations, as that he may keep a creature in a posture of dependency, so as to give up his understanding, so as to be disposed and regulated by him. And if a Cherubin be ambitious of stooping, if Angelical understanding do so earnestly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, me thinks then the sons of men might fall down at the beautiful feet of Evangelical mysteries, with that humble acknowledgement, Non sum dignus solvere corrigiam ●ujus mysterii. Only let thy Faith triumph here, for it shall not triumph hereafter; let it shine in time, for it must vanish in eternity. You see then that Reason is no enemy to Faith, for all that has been said of Faith, it has been fetched out of Reason. You see there are mutual embraces 'twixt the Law and the Gospel, Nature and Grace may meet together, Reason and Faith have kissed each other.   

CHAP. XVII.  
The light of Reason is a pleasant light.  
'TIs Lumen jucundum; All light is pleasant, 'tis the very smile of Nature, the gloss of the world, the varnish of the Creation, a bright paraphrase upon bodies. Whether it discover itself in the modesty of a morning blush, and open its fair and Virgin eyelids in the dawning of the day, or whether it dart out more vigorous and sprightful beams, shining out in its noonday glory; whether it sport and twinkle in a Star, or blaze and glare out in a Comet, or frisk and dance in a Jewel, or dissemble and play the Hypocrite in a gloworm, or Epitomise and abbreviate itself in a spark, or show its zeal and the ruddiness of its complexion, in the yolk of the fire, or grow more pale, pining and consuming away in a Candle; however 'tis pleased to manifest itself, it carries a commanding lustre in its face, though sometimes indeed it be veiled and shadowed, sometimes 'tis clouded and imprisoned, sometimes 'tis soiled and discoloured. Who will not salute so lovely a beauty with a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; welcome thou firstborn of corporeal beings, thou Lady and Queen of Sensitive beauties, thou clarifier and refiner of the Chaos, thou unspotted beauty of the Universe. Let him be condemned to a perpetual night, to a fatal disconsolate grave, that is not enamoured with thy brightness. Is it not a pleasant thing to behold a Sun? nay, to behold but a Candle, a deputed light? a vicarious light? the ape of a Sunbeam? Yet there are some superstitious ones that are ready to adore it, how devoutly do they compliment with a Candle, at the first approach? how do they put off the hat to it, as if with the satire they meant to kiss it. You see how pleasant the light is to them; Nay that learned Knight in his discourse of Bodies, tells us of one totally blind, who yet knew when a candle came into the room, only by the quickening & reviving of his Spirits. Yet this Corporeal light, 'tis but ashadow, 'tis but a black spot to set off the fairness of intellectual brightness. How pleasant is it to behold an intellectual Sun? Nay, to behold but the Candle of the Lord? How pleasant is this Lamp of Reason, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. All the Motions and Operations of Nature are mixed and seasoned with sweetness; Every Entity 'tis sugared with some delight; Every being 'tis rolled up in some pleasure. How does the inanimate Being clasp and embrace its Centre, and rest there as in the bosom of delight? how flourishing is the pleasure of vegetatives? Look but upon the beauty and pleasure of a flower. Behold the Lilies of the Valleys, (and the Roses of Sharon,) Solomon in all his Pleasure was not clothed like one of these. Go then to sensitive Creatures, and there you meet with pleasures in a greater height and exaltation. How are all the Individua amongst them maintained by acts of pleasure? How are they all propagated by acts of pleasure? Some of them are more merry and cheerful than the rest. How pleasant and jocund is the Bird? How musical is it? How does it sing for joy? did you never see the fish playing in its element? did you never see it caught with a bait of pleasure? does not Leviathan sport in the sea, and dally with the waves? If you look up higher to rational Being's, to the sons of men, you'll find there a more singular and pecular kind of pleasure, whilst they have both a taste of sensitive delight, and a Participation of Intellectual. The soul and body enjoying a chaste and conjugal love, the pleasure of the soul is more vigorous and masculine, that of the body more soft and effeminate. The Nobler any Being is, the purer pleasure it hath proportioned to it. Sensitive pleasure it hath more of dregs; Intellectual pleasure it hath more of Quintessence. If pleasure were to be measured by Corporeal senses, the Brutes that are more exquisite in sense then men are, would by virtue of that, have a choicer portion of happiness than men can arrive to, and would make a better sect of Epicureans then men are ever like to do. But therefore Nature hath very wisely provided, that the pleasure of Reason should be above any pleasure of Sense; as much, and far more than the pleasure of a Bee is above the pleasure of the Swine. Have you not seen a Bee make a trade of pleasure, and like a little Epicure faring deliciously every day, whilst it lies at the breast of a flower, drawing and sucking out the purest sweetness? and because 'twill have variety of dishes and dainties, it goes from flower to flower, and feasts upon them all with a pure and spotless pleasure, when as the Swine in the mean time tumbles and wallows in the mire, rolling itself in dirt and filthiness. An Intellectual Bee that deflowers most elegant Authors, a learned Epicure that sups up more Orient pearls then ever Cleopatra did, one that delights in the embraces of truth & goodness, hath he not a more refined and clarified pleasure, than a wanton Corinthian that courts Lais, than a soft Sardanapalus spinning amongst his Courtesans, than a plump Anacreon, in singing & dancing and quaffing & lascivious playing? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as the elegant Moralist hath it: and 'tis as if he had said, the delights of a studious and contemplative Athenian, or of a courageous and active Lacedaemonian, is infinitely to be preferred before the pleasure of a delicate Sybarite, or a a dissolved Persian. The delight of a Philosopher does infinitely surpass the pleasure of a Courtier. The choicest pleasure is nothing but the Efflorescentia veri & boni, there can be no greater pleasure, then of an understanding embracing a most clear truth, and of a will complying with its fairest good, this is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the Greeks calls it; or as the Latins in sinu gaudere; all pleasure consisting in that Harmonious Conformity and Correspondency, that a faculty hath with its object, 'twill necessarily flow from this, that the better and nobler any object is, the purer and stronger any faculty is, the nearer and sweeter the union is between them; the choicest must be the pleasure that ariseth from thence. Now Intellectual Being's have the bravest object, the highest and most generous faculties; the strictest Love-knot and Union, and so can't want a pleasure answerable to all this. Epicurus himself (as that known writer of the Philosopher's lives, who himself also was a favourer and follower of the Epicurean Sect, does represent him) that grand master of pleasure, though sometimes he seem to steep all pleasure in sense, yet upon more digested thoughts he is pleased to tell us, that the supreme delight is stored and treasured up in intellectuals. Sometimes indeed he breaks out into such dissolute words as these, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. I know no pleasure, saith he, if you take away the bribes and flatteries of lust, the entice & blandishing of sense, the graces and elegancies of Music, the kisses and embraces of Venus. But afterwards he is in a far different and mote sober strain, and seems to drop a pearl, though his auditors proved swine, his words were these, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. I mean not (says he) the pleasures of a Prodigal, or those that are situated in a carnal fruition, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. I intent a rational pleasure, a prudential kind of pleasure, which makes him lay down this for an axiom, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, there can be no pleasure unless it be dipped in goodness, it must come bubbling from a fountain of Reason, & must stream out virtuous expressions & manifestations, and whereas other in their salutations were wont to write 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he always writ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. But that ingenuous Moralist whom I mentioned before, who could easily spy out the mind of Epicurus, and who was of greater candour and fairness then to wrong his opinion, doth yet so far lay it open and naked to the world, as that he notably detects the follies and vanities of that voluptuous Philosopher in that golden tractate of his, which he entitles 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Non potest suaviter vivere secundùm Epicuri decreta, where he shows that this jolly Philosopher makes the body only the proper centre of pleasure, and when he tells you that the mind hath a more rarified delight, he means no more than this, that the mind perceives the pleasure of sense better than the sense does, which makes the forementioned Author pass this witty censure upon them, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they pour no pleasure upon the soul, but that which comes out of the impure and musty vessel of the body. The whole sum of Epicurus his Ethics, which he styles his Canonical Philosophy, is this, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that pleasure was the (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) and (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) of all happiness. To this purpose he wrote a multitude of books, and scattered them like so many of his Atoms, and the greedy appetite of his licentious followers was easily caught with these baits of pleasure, which made his opinions to be styled meretricia dogmata that curled their locks, that painted their faces, that opened their naked breasts, that clothed themselves in soft and silken apparel, to see if they could thus entice the world; they were 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that with a melting and delicate voice, did endeavour to soften and win upon the hearts of men as much as they could; the quintessence of all his doctrine was this, Dux vitae dîa voluptas, as Lucretius the Epicurean Poet sings. The practice of that frolic professor of pleasure, did sufficiently explain and comment upon his mind. His dwelling was in a garden, a fit place to crown with Rosebuds, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to crop the tops of pleasure, to let no flower of the spring pass untouched of him; here he was furnished with all his voluptuous accommodations, and he might spread like a green and flourishing Bay-tree; But amongst all his pleasure me thinks none should envy that (which yet the writer of his life is pleased to observe) that he was wont 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to vomit twice a day constantly after meals, by virtue of his excessive luxury. O rare Philosopher! that Head of a vomiting Sect, that licked up his and their own filthiness. Is this the work of an Athenian? is this his mixing of virtue with pleasure? will he call this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; sure he will not call this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; yet his death was very conformable to his life, for he expired with a cup of wine at his mouth, which puts me in mind of the end of the other carousing Epicure, that merry Greek Anacreon; who by a most emphatical Tautopathy was choked with the husk and kernel of a Grape. So soon does the pleasure of an Epicure wither, so soon are his resolves blasted, he eats, and drinks, and dies before to morrow, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. they seem to refresh and fan the soul with a gentle breath, but they are not certain, nor durable. Those corporeal delights (as that florid Moralist Plutarch tells us) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, like so many sparks, they make a crack and vanish; like some extemporary meteors, they give a bright and sudden coruscation, and disappear immediately. The pleasures of taste are but in fine palati, as that famous Epicure Lucretius tells us. Whereas intellectual joy shines with a fixed and undecaying brightness, and though these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (as Plato calls them elegantly) these outward pictures of pleasure, though they lose their gloss and colour, yet the inward face of delight maintains its original and primitive beauty. Sensitive pleasure is limited and contracted to the narrow point of a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for sense hath no delight but by the enjoyment of a present object, when as intellectual pleasure is not at all restrained by any temporal conditions, but can suck sweetness out of time past, present, and to come; the mind does not only drink pleasure out of present fountains; but it can taste those streams of delight that are run away long ago, and can quench its thirst with those streams, which as yet run under ground. For does not memory (which therefore Plato calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 does it not reprint and repeat former pleasure? and what's hope but pleasure in the bud? does it not antedate and prepossess future delight? Nay, by virtue of an intellectual percolation, the waters of Marah and Meribah will become sweet and delicious. The mind can extract honey out of the bitterest object when 'tis past, how else can you construe it, haec olim meminisse jutabit? Corporeal pleasure 'tis but drossy and impure, the wine 'tis dashed with water, there is a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (as Plato in his Philebus that book of pleasure doth very plainly and fully explain it,) and the instance that there Socrates gives, is a quenching of thirst, where there's a very intimate connexion betwixt vexation and satisfaction. Tell me, you that crown yourselves with Rosebuds, do you not at the same time crown yourselves with thorns? for they are the companions of Rosebuds. But intellectual pleasure 'tis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, clear and crystalline joy, there's no mud in it, no feculency at all. Men are ashamed of some corporeal pleasures, the crown of Roses 'tis but a blushing crown, but who are blushed at intellectual delights? Epicurus his Philosophy was very well termed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'twas afraid to come to the light, whereas intellectual pleasure need not fear the light, or the Sunshine. Men faint and languish with sensitive pleasures, Membra voluptatis dum vi labefacta liquescunt (as Lucretius himself upon much experience acknowledges.) Lassata viris nondum satiata, as the Satirist speaks of the eminent wanton. Nay, such is the state and temper of the body 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as that it will better endure extreme grief, then excessive pleasure. Did you ne'er hear of the soft Sybariste, who complained in the morning of his weariness, and of his pimples, when he had lain all night only upon a bed of Roses; but who ever was tired with intellectual pleasure? who ever was weary of an inward complacency? or who ere surfeited of rational joy? Other pleasures ingratiate themselves by intermission, Voluptates commendat rarior usus, whereas all intellectuals heighten and advance themselves by frequent and constant operations. Other pleasures do but emasculate and dispirit the soul, they do not at all fill it and satisfy it. Epicurus may fill his with one of his atoms, as well as with one of his pleasures. Whereas rational pleasure fills the soul to the brim; it oils the very members of the body, making them more free and cheerful; Nay, speculative delight will make abundant compensation for the want of sensitive; 'twill turn a wilderness into a Paradise. 'Tis like you have read of the Philosopher that put out his eyes, that he might be the more intent upon his study; he shuts his windows that the candle might shine more clearly within; and though he be rather to be wondered at, then to be followed or commended, yet he did proclaim thus much by this act of his, that he preferred one beam of intellectual light before the whole glory of this corporeal world; How have some been enamoured with the pleasure of Mathematics? when says Plutarch, did any Epicure cry out 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with so much joy as Archimedes' did 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉? How have some Astronomers built their nests in the Stars? and have scorned to let any sublunary pleasures rend their thoughts from such goodly speculations? the worst of men in the mean time glut themselves with sensitive pleasure, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (as he in Plato speaks.) Apollo laughs but once in a year, when as a fool laughs all the year long. And 'tis a great deal more consonant to sound Philosophy that rationality should be the spring of inward pleasure, then of outward risibility. Amongst all mental operations reflex acts taste pleasure best, for without some self-reflexion men cannot tell whether they rejoice or no; now these acts are the most distant and remote from sense, and are the highest advancements of Reason: true pleasure, 'tis res severa (as the grave Moralist Seneca speaks) and 'tis in profundo, where truth and goodness those twin-fountains of pleasure are. Sensitive pleasure makes more noise and crackling, when as mental and noëtical delight, like the touches of the Lute, make the sweetest and yet the stillest and softest music of all. Intellectual vexations have most sting in them, why then should not intellectual delights have most honey in them? Sensitive pleasure 'tis very costly, there must be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, much preparation and attendance, much plenty and variety, Parcentes ego dexteras odi, sparge Rosas, 'tis too dear for every one to be an Epicure, 'tis a very chargeable Philosophy to put in practice, whereas rational delight freely and equally diffuses itself, you need not pay any thing for fountain-pleasure, the mind itself proves a Canaan that flows with milk and honey, other pleasure a sick man cannot relish, an old man cannot embrace it. Barsillai says he's too old to taste the pleasures of the Court. A Crown of Rosebuds does not at all become the grey head. But this noëtical pleasure 'tis a delight fit for a Senator, for a Cato, 'tis an undecaying, a growing pleasure, 'tis the only pleasure upon the bed of sickness; the mind of him that has the gout may dance, 'tis the staff for old age to lean upon; these are the rosae in hyeme, the delights of old age, how much is the pleasure of a wise Nestor above the pleasure of a wanton Menelaus? The more rational & spiritual any being is, the larger capacity it has of pleasure. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (saith Plato) and in a commendable sense it does Terram coelo miscere, and extract what sweetness it can out of both. The purer Arts, the nobler Sciences have most pleasure annexed to them, when as Mechanical Arts are more sordid and contemptible, being conversant about sensitive and corporeal objects. Seeing and hearing are the most pleasurable senses, because they receive their objects in a more spiritual and intentional manner, and are deservedly styled by the Naturalist sensus jucunditatis. Other senses are more practical, but these are more contemplative. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Aristotle tells us, for these are the sensus disciplinae, they are the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 mentis, they contribute most to Reason. The more any object is spirituali●ed, the more delightful it is, there's much delight in the tragical representation of those things which in reality would be sights full of amazement and horror. The tickle of fancy are more delightful than the touches of sense. How does Poetry insinuate and turn about the minds of men? A●acreon might take more delight in one of his Odes, then in one of his Cups; Catullus might easily find more sweetness in one of his Epigrams, then in the lips of a Lesbian▪ Sapph might take more complacency in one of her Verses, then in her practices. The nearer any thing comes to mental joy, the purer and choicer it is. 'Tis the observation not only of Aristotle, but of every one almost, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Some things delight merely because of their novelty, and that surely upon this account, because the mind which is the spring of joy, is more fixed and intense upon such things. The Rose-bud thus pleases more than the blown Rose. This noëtical pleasure doth quietly possess and satiate the soul, and gives a composed and Sabbatical rest. So that as the forementioned Philosopher has it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Men that are took up with intellectual joy, trample upon all other inferior objects. See this in Angelical pleasure; those Courtiers of heaven much different from those on earth, neither eat nor drink, nor come near, nor desire to come near any carnal pleasures. The painted and feigned heaven of a Mahomet, would prove a real hell to an Angel or glorified Saint. He plants a fool's paradise of his own, there are trees of his own setting and watering, the fat and juicey Olive, the wanton and sequacious Ivy, and though he would not allow them Vines on earth (such was his great love of sobriety) yet he reserves them for heaven; what means that sensual and sottish impostor, to give notice of heaven by an Ivy-bush? Does he think that Goats and Swine, that Mahomet's must enter into the new Jerusalem? This is just such a pleasure and happiness as the Poets, that loose and licentious generation fancied and carved out as most agreeable to their Deities. They pour them out Nectar, they spread them a table, they dish out Ambrosia for them, they allow them an Hebe, or a ganymed to wait upon them, and do plainly transform them to worse than sensitive beings, such is the froth of some vain imaginations; such is the scum of some obscene fancies, that dare go about to create an Epicurean Deity, conformable to their own lust and vile affections. Judge in yourselves, are these pleasures fit for a supreme being? is there not a softer joy, is there not a more downy happiness for a spiritual being to lay its head upon? That conqueror of the world had far wiser and more sober thoughts, when he distinguished himself from a Deity by his sleep and lust. And I begin to admire the just indignation of Plato, who (though neither he himself, (unless he be misreported) could content himself with intellectual pleasure, no nor yet with natural, yet he) would banish from the Idea of his Commonwealth all such scandalous and abominable Poetry, as durst cast such unworthy and dishonourable aspersions upon a Deity, and make their god as bad as themselves, as if they were to draw a picture of him by their own faces and complexions. Yet as all other perfections, so the perfection of all true and real pleasure, is enjoyed by God himself in a most spiritual and transcendent manner. That which is honour with men, is glory with him; that which we call riches, is in him his own excellency. His creatures which are very properly (as the Philosopher styled riches) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, all serviceable and instrumental to him, and so that which amongst men is accounted pleasure, is with him that infinite satisfaction, which he takes in his own Essence, and in his own operations. His glorious decrees and contrivances, they are all richly pregnant with joy and sweetness. Every providential dispensation is an act of choicest pleasure; the making of all beings, nay of all irregularities contribute to his own glory, must needs be an act of supreme and sovereign delight. The laughing his enemies to scorn, 'tis a pleasure fit for infinite justice, the smiling upon his Church, the favouring and countenancing of his people, 'tis a pleasure fit for mercy and goodness; Miracles are the pleasure of his omnipotency, varieties are the delight of his wisdom; Creation was an act of pleasure, and it must needs delight him to behold so much of his own workmanship, so many pictures of his own drawing; Redemption was an expression of that singular delight and pleasure which he took in the sons of men. Such heaps of pleasures as these are never entered into the mind of an Epicurus, nor any of his grunting Sect, who very near border upon Atheism, and will upon no other terms and condition grant a Deity, unless they may have one of their own modelling and contriving, that is, such a being as is wholly immersed in pleasure, and that such a pleasure as they must be judges of; a being that did neither make the world, nor takes any care of it, for that they think would be too much trouble to him, too great a burden for a Deity, 'twould hinder his pleasure too much. May they not a great deal better tell the Sun, that it's too much trouble for it to enlighten the world; may they not better tell a Fountain that it's too much pains for it to spend itself in such liberal eruptions, in such fluent communications? Or shall natural agents act with delight ad extremum virium, and shall not an infinite, and a free, and a rational agent choose such operations as are most delightful to him? would not Epicurus himself choose his own pleasure? and will he not allow a Deity the same privilege? will he offer to set limits to a being which he himself acknowledges to be above him? must he stint and prescribe the pleasures of a God? and measure out the delights of the first being? who should think that an Athenian, that a Philosopher could thus far dim the Candle of the Lord? and could entertain such a prodigious thought as this, that the Sun itself is maintained with the same Oil, as his decayed and corrupted Lampis? That gallant Moralist Plutarch does most notably lay the axe to the root of this abominable Error, for, saith he, If Epicurus should grant a God in his full perfections, he must change his life presently, he must be a swine no longer, he must uncrown his rosy head, and must give that practical obedience to the dictates of a God which other Philosophers are wont to do; whereas he looks upon this as his fairest Rose-bud, as the most beautiful flower in his garden of pleasure, that there's no providence to check him, or bridle him; that he is not so subject or subordinate as to stand in awe of a Deity. But that brave Author (whom I commended before) shows the inconsistency of this tenant, with true and solid pleasure; For grant, O Epicure, that thou dost not care for a Deity in a calm, yet what wilt thou do in a storm? when the Northwind blows upon thy garden, and when the frost nips thy tender Grapes. Thou dost not care for him in the spring, but wouldst thou be glad of him in the winter? will it be a pleasure then that thou hast none to help thee? none to guide thee, none to protect thee? Suppose a Ship ready to be split upon a rock, or to be sooped up of a wave, would this then be a comfort and encouragement to it, or would it take pleasure in this, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that it has no Pilot to direct it, it has no tutelar Deities to mind the welfare of it? but it must rush on as well as it can; thou blind and fond Epicure, thou knowest not the sweetness of pleasure, that might be extracted out of providence, which is not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'tis not a supercilious and frowning authority, but 'tis the indulgent and vigilant eye of a father, 'tis the tender and affectionate care of a Creator. One blossom of Providence hath more joy and pleasure in it, than all thy Rosebuds. Where is there more delight than in the serving of a God? Look upon the Sacrifices, what mirth and feast are there? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'Tis not the abundance of wine, nor the abundance of provision that makes the joy and pleasure there, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it's the presence of a propitious Deity, accepting and blessing his worshippers, that fills the heart with greater joy than an Epicure is capable of. Never was there a Sect found out that did more oppose true pleasure, than the Epicureans did; they tell us that they take pleasure in honour, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they look upon it as a lovely and delightful thing; yet by these tenants and practices of theirs, they quite stain and blot their honour, & so lose that piece of their pleasure which they pretend to. They say (if you'll believe them) that they take pleasure in friends, when as yet they constitute friendship, only 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they must be boon companions, that must drink and be merry together, and run into the same excess of riot. Have not sensitive creatures as much friendship as this amounts to? They tell us they love the continuation of pleasure, why then do they deny the immortality of the soul? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'tis the voice of Epicurus and his swinish Sect, There must be no eternity. What, are they afraid their pleasure should last too long? or are they conscious (as they may very well be) that such impure pleasure is not at all durable? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'tis the voice of the same impure mouth, There is no repetition of life: what's he afraid of having his pleasures reiterated? does he not expect a crown of Rosebuds the next spring? or is he so weary (as well he may be) of his pleasure, as that he will prefer a nonentity before it? This sure was the mind and desire of that Epicurean Poet Lucretius, though a Roman of very eminent parts, which yet were much abated by a Philtrum that was given him; a just punishment for him, who put so much of his pleasure in a cup; and this desperate slighter of Providence, at length laid violent hands upon himself. Are any of you enamoured with such pleasure as this? you see what's at the bottom of an Epicures cup: you see how impatient a rational being is of such unworthy delights, and how soon 'tis cloyed with them. You see the misery of an Epicure, whose pleasure was only in this life, and yet would not last out this life neither. But all rational pleasure, 'tis not of a span long, but reaches to perpetuity. That Moralist whom I have so often mentioned, reckons up whole heaps of pleasure, which spring from the continuation of the soul. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. There (says he) shall I have the pleasure of seeing all my friends again, there I shall have the pleasure of more ennobled acts of Reason; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, there shall I taste the so much longed for sweetness of another world. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. The fear of future misery cannot more terrify a guilty soul (the fear of which 'tis like made Epicurus put off all thoughts of another life as much as he could, for else the fear of that would have been a worm in his Rose-bud of pleasure; but the fear of that has not more horror and amazement in it,) then the hope of future happiness has joy and delight annexed to it.  
Hoc habet animus Argumentum divi●itatis, qu●d eum divina delectant, as that serious Moralist Seneca speaks most excellently. The soul by the enjoyment of God comes near the pleasure of God himself.  
The Platonists tell us that Voluptatis Generatio fit ex infiniti & finiti copulatione, because the object of real pleasure must be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. An intellectual eye married to the Sun, a naked will swimming, and bathing itself in its fairest good, the noblest affections leaping and dancing in the purest light, this speaks the highest apex and eminency of noëtical pleasure; yet this pleasure of heaven itself, though by a most sacred and intimate connexion; it be unseparably conjoined with happiness, yet 'tis not the very essence and formality of it, but does rather flow from it by way of concomitancy and resultancy.  
That which most opposes this pleasure, is that prodigious and anomalous delight (not worthy the name of delight or pleasure) which damned spirits and souls degenerate far below the pleasure of Epicurus, that delight which these take in wickedness, in malice, in pride, in lies, in hypocrisy; all which speaks them the very excrements of Beelzebub, the Prince of Devils. But you that are genuine Athenians, fill yourselves with noëtical delights, and envy not others their more vulgar Beotick pleasures; envy not the rankness of their Garlic and Onions, whilst you can feed and feast upon more Spiritual and Angelical dainties. Envy not the wanton Sparrows, nor the laseivious Goats, as long as you can meet with a purer and chaster delight in the virginity of intellectual embraces.  
Do you devour with a golden Epicurism, the Arts and Sciences, the spirits and extractions of Authors; let not an Epicure take more pleasure in his garden than you can do in your studies; you may gather flowers there, you may gather fruit there. Convince the world that the very pith and marrow of pleasure does not dwell in the surface of the body, but in a deep and rational centre. Let your triumphant reason trample upon sense, and let no corporeal pleasures move you or tempt you, but such as are justly and exactly subordinate to Reason; you come to Athens as to a fountain of learned pleasure; you come hither to snuff the Candle of the Lord that is within you, that it may burn the clearer and the brighter. You come to trim your Lamps, and to pour fresh Oil into them; yourvery work and employment is pleasure. Happy Athenians (if you knew your own happiness.) Let him be condemned to perpetual folly and ignorance, that does not prefer the pleasant light of the Candle of the Lord before all the Pageantry of sensitive objects, before all the flaunting and Comical joy of the world.  
Yet could I show you a more excellent way, for the pleasures of natural reason are but husks in comparison of those Gospel-delights, those mysterious pleasures that lie hidin the bosom of a Christ; those Rosebuds that were died in the blood of a Saviour, who took himself the Thorns, & left you the roses. We have only looked upon the pleasure of a candle, but there you have the Sunshine of pleasure in its full glory.   

CHAP. XVIII.  
The light of Reason is an ascendent light.  
'TIs Lumen ascendens— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Musaeus sings in the praise of Hero's Candle. Yet I mean no more by this, then what that known saying of Saint Austin imports, Fecisti nos (Domine) ad te, irrequietum erit cor nostrum donec redit ad te. The Candle of the Lord it came from him, and 'twould fain return to him. For an intellectual lamp to aspire to be a Sun, 'tis a lofty strain of that intolerable pride which was in Lucifer and Adam: but for the Candle of the Lord, to desire the favour, and presence, and enjoyment of a beatifical Sun, this is but a just and noble desire of that end which God himself created it for. It must needs be a proud and swelling drop that desires to become an Ocean; but if it seeks only to be united to an Ocean, such a desire tends to its own safety and honour. The face of the soul naturally looks up to God, coelúmque tueri Jussit, & erectos ad sidera tollere vultus, 'tis as true of the soul as of the body. All light loves to dwell at home with the Father of lights. Heaven 'tis Patria luminum, God has there fixed a tabernacle for the Sun, for 'tis good to be there, 'tis a condescension in a Sunne-beam that 'twill stoop so low as earth, and that 'twill gild this inferior part of the world; 'tis the humility of light that 'twill incarnate and incorporate itself into sublunary bodies; yet even there 'tis not forgetful of its noble birth and original, but 'twill still look upwards to the Father of lights. Though the Sun cover the earth with its healing and spreading wings, yet even those wings love to fly aloft, and not to rest upon the ground in a sluggish posture. Nay, light when it courteously salutes some earthy bodies, it usually meets with such churlish entertainment, as that by an angry reverberation, 'tis sent back again, yet in respect of itself 'tis many times an happy reflection and rebound, for 'tis thus necessitated to come nearer heaven. If you look but upon a Candle, what an aspiring and ambitious light is it? though the proper figure of flame be Globular and not Pyramidal, (as the noble Verulam tells us in his History of Nature) which appears by those celestial bodies, those fine and rarified flames, (if we may so call them with the Peripatetics leave) that roll and move themselves in a globular and determinate manner: yet that flame which we usually see puts on the form of a Pyramid, occasionally and accidentally, by reason that the air is injurious to it, and by quenching the sides of the flame crushes it, and extenuates it into that form, for otherwise 'twould ascend upwards in one greatness, in a rounder and completer manner. 'Tis just thus in the Candle of the Lord; Reason would move more fully according to the sphere of its activity, 'twould flame up towards heaven in a more vigorous and uniform way, but that it is much quenched by that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the unruliness of the sensitive powers will not allow it its full scope and liberty, therefore 'tis fain to spire up, and climb up as well as it can in a Pyramidal form, the bottom and basis of it borders upon the body, and is therefore more impure and feculent; but the apex and cusp is of it catches at heaven, and longs to touch happiness, thus to unite itself to the fountain of light and perfection. Every spark of Reason flies upwards, this divine flame fell down from heaven, and halted with its fall, (as the Poets in their Mythology tell us of the limping of Vulcan) but it would fain ascend thither again by some steps and gradations of its own framing.  
Reason 'tis soon weary with its fluttering up and down among the creatures, the Candle of the Lord does but waste itself in vain in searching for happiness here below. Some of the choicest Heathens did thus spend their Lamps, & exhaust their Oil, and then at length were fain to lie down in darkness & sorrow; their Lamps did show them some glimmering appearances of a Summum bonum at a great distance, but it did not sufficiently direct them in the way to it, no more than a Candle can guide a traveller that is ignorant of his way. You may see some of the more sordid Heathen toiling and searching with their Candle in the mines and treasuries of riches, to see if they could spy any vein of happiness there, but the earth saith, 'Tis not in me. You may see others among them feeding and maintaining their Candle with the air of popular applause, sucking in the breath and esteem of men, till at the length they perceived that it came with such uncertain blasts, as that they chose rather to cloister themselves up in a Lantern, to put themselves into some more reserved and retired condition, rather than to be exposed to those transient and arbitrary blasts, which some are pleased to entitle and style by the name of honours. You might see some of them pouring the Oil of gladness into their Lamps, till they soon perceived that voluptuous excess, did but melt and dissolve the Candle, and that pleasures like so many thiefs, did set it a blazing, and did not keep it in an equal shining. You might behold others, and those the most eminent amongst them, snuffing their Candles very exactly and accurately, by improving their intellectuals and refining their morals, till they sadly perceived that when they were at the brightest, their Candles burnt but dimly and blewly, and that for all their snuffing they would relapse into their former dulness. The snuffing of Nature and Reason will never make up a day, nor a Sunshine of happiness; all the light that did shine upon these Ethiopians did only discover their own blackness, yet they were so enamoured with this natural complexion, as that they looked upon't as a piece of the purest beauty.  
Nature Narcissus-like loves to look upon its own face, and is much taken with the reflections of itself. What should I tell you of the excessive and hyperbolical vapourings of the Stoics in their adoring and idolising of Nature, whilst they fix their happiness in the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in their own compass and sphere; these were (as I may so term them) a kind of Pharisees among the Heathen, that scorned precarious happiness, like so many arbitrary and independent beings; they resolved to be happy how they pleased, and when they list. Thus do fond creatures boast of their decayed Lamps, as if they were so many Suns, or at least Stars of the first magnitude. The Stoics spoke this more loudly, yet the rest of the Heathen whispered out the same, for they were all of the Poet's mind.— Natura beatis Omnibus esse dedit, si quis cognoverit uti. And they would all willingly subscribe to those words of Sallust. Fal●ò de natura queritur humanum genus, which indeed is understood of the God of Nature, they were words of truth and loyalty; but if they meant them (as certainly they did) of that strength which was for the present communicated to them, they were but the interpreters of their own weakness and vanity. Yet 'tis no wonder to hear any of the Heathen Rhetoricating in the praise of Nature; it may seem a more tolerable piece of gratitude in them to amplify and extol this gift of their Creator; 'tis no wonder if such a one admire a Candle, that ne'er saw a nobler light. But for such as are surrounded and crowned with Evangelical beams, for men that live under Gospel-Sun-shine, for them to promise themselves and others that they may be saved by the light of a candle▪ a Stoic, an Academic, a Peripatetic shall enter into heaven before these. Yet I find that in the very beginning of the fifth Century, Pelagius an high Traitor against the Majesty of Heaven, scattered this dangerous and venomous Error, endeavouring to set the Crown upon Nature's head, and to place the creature in the throne of God and grace. The learned Vossius in his Historia Pelagiana (a book full fraught with sacred Antiquity) gives us this brief representation of him, that he was, humani arbitrii decomptor, & Divinae Gratiae contemptor, a trimmer of Nature, and an affronter of grace. His body was the very type of his soul, for he wanted an eye, he was but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ to be sure he wanted a spiritual eye to discern the things of God. He was a Scot by Nation, a Monk by profession, a man exemplary in Morals, and not contemptible for learning, for though Hierom vilify him in respect of both, yet Chrysostom gives him a sufficient Commendamus, and Augustine himself will set his hand to it, that learned adversary of his full of grace and truth, & the very hammer that broke his flinty and rebellious Error in pieces. If you would see the rise, and progress, and variations of this Error, how it began to blush and put on more modesty in Semipelagianisme; how afterwards it covered its nakedness with some Popish fig-leaves; how at length it refined itself and dressed itself more handsomely in Arminianism, you may consult with the forementioned Author, who kept a relic of his Pelagian History in his own breast, whilst it left upon him an Arminian tincture. This spreading Error leavened the great lump and generality of the world, as the profound Bradwardin sighs, and complains; Totus penè mundus post Pelagium abiit in errorem: for all men are born Pelagians; Nature is predominant in them: it has took possession of them, and will not easily subordinate itself to a superior principle. Yet Nature has not such a fountain of perfection in itself, but that it may very well draw from another; this Heathenish principle after all its advancements and improvements, after all its whitening and purifyings, it must stand but afar off in Atrio Gentium, it cannot enter into the Temple off God, much less into the Sanctum Sanctorum, it cannot pierce within the veil.  
The ennoblement of intellectuals, the spotless integrity of Morals, sweetness of dispositions, and the candour of Nature, they are all deservedly amiable in the eye of the world. The Candle of Socrates, and the candle of Plato, the Lamp of Epictetus, they did all shine before men, and shine more than some that would fain be called Christians. Nature makes a very fine show, and a goodly glittering in the eye of the world, but this Candle cannot appear in the presence of a Sun▪ all the paintings and varnishings of Nature, they please and enamour the eyes of men, but they melt away at the presence of God. The Lamp of a Moralist may waste it self in doing good to others, and yet at length may go out in a snuff, and be cast into utter darkness. The harmonious composing of natural faculties, the tuning of those spheres, will never make up an heaven fit for a soul to dwell in. Yet notwithstanding whatsoever is lovely in narure is acceptable even to God himself, for 'tis a print of himself, and he does proportion some temporal rewards unto it; the justice of an Aristides, the good laws of a Solon or a Lycurgus, the formal devotion of a Numa Pompilius, the prudence of a Cato, the courage of a Scipio, the moderation of a Fabius, the publitk spirit of a Cicero, they had all some rewards scattered among them. Nor is there any doubt but that some of the Heathen pleased God better than others. Surely Socrates was more lovely in his eyes then Aristophanes, Augustus pleased him better than Tiberius, Cicero was more acceptable to him then Catiline, for there were more remainders of his image in the one then in the other, the one was of purer and nobler influence than the other. Minùs malus respectu pejoris est bonus, the one shall have more mitigations of punishment than the other; Socrates shall taste a milder cup of wrath, when as Aristophanes shall drink up the dregs of fury; if divine justice whip Cicero with rods, 'twill whip Catiline with Scorpions. An easier and more gentle worm shall feed upon Augustus, a more fierce and cruel one shall pray upon Tiberius; if justice put Cato into a prison, 'twill put Cethegus into a dungeon. Nor is this a small advantage that comes by the excellencies & improvements of Nature, that if God shall please to beautify and adorn such an one with supernatural principles, and if he think good to drop grace into such a soul, 'twill be more serviceable and instrumental to God than others. Religion cannot desire to shine with a greater gloss and lustre, it cannot desire to ride among men in greater pomp and solemnity, in a more triumphant Chariot, then in a soul of vast intellectuals, of Virgin and undeflowered morals, of calm and composed affections, of pleasant and ingenuous dispositions. When the strength of Nature, and the power of godliness unite, and concentricate their forces, they make up the finest and purest complexion; the soundest and bravest constitution, like a sparkling and vigorous soul, quickening and informing a beautiful body. Yet this must be thought upon, that the different improvement even of Naturals, springs only from grace. For Essentials and Specificals (which are mere Nature they are equal in all, but whatsoever singular or additional perfection is annexed to such a one, flows only from the distingushing goodness of an higher cause; that Socrates was any better than Aristophanes, was not nature, but a kind of common gift and grace of the Spirit of God, for there are the same seminal principles in all. Augustus & Tiberius were hewn out of the same rock; there are in Cicero the seeds of a Catiline: and when the one brings forth more kindly and generous, the other more wild and corrupted fruit, 'tis accordingly as the countenance and favourable aspect of heaven is pleased to give the increase; for as the Philosophers tell us, Motio moventis praecedit motum mobilis, was there any propension or inclination to goodness in the heart of a Cicero more than of a Catiline? 'twas only from the first mover, from the finger of God himself that tuned the one more harmoniously than the other. As take two several Lutes, let them be made both alike for essentials, for matter and form; if now the one be strung better than the othet, the thanks is not due to the Lute, but to the arbitrary pleasure of him that strung it; let them be both made alike and strung alike, yet if the one be quickened with a more delicate and graceful touch, the prevailing excellency of the music was not to be ascribed to the nature of the Lute, but to the skill and dexterity of him that did move it and prompted it into such elegant sounds. The several degrees of worth in men that are above radicals and fundamentals of nature, they are all the skill and workmanship, the fruits and productions of common grace. For Omnis actio particularis habet originem ab agente universali. Now if the universal agent did only dispense an equal concourse in an equal subject, all the operations and effects that flow from thence must needs be equal also; if then there be any eminency in the workings of the one more than of the other▪ i● can have no other original then from that noble influence, which a free and supreme agent is pleased to communicate in various measures; so that naked Nature of itself is a most invalid and inefficacious principle, that does crumble away its own strength, and does wear and waste by its motions, and for every act of improvement it depends only upon the kindness of the first being. They that tell you Nature may merit Grace and Glory, may as well tell you (if they please) that a Candle by its shining may merit to be a Star, to be a Sun. Nor yet is Nature always constant to its own light; it does not deal faithfully with its intimate and essential principles. Some darlings of Nature have abundantly witnessed this, whilst they have run into some unnatural practices, that were the very blushes of Nature; if then Nature cannot tell how to live upon earth, will it ever be able to climb up to heaven? Sinesciat servire, nescit imperare, if it be not faithful in a little, do you think that it shall be made Ruler over much? no certainly, moral endowments when they are at the proudest top and apex, can do no more, than what that great Antipelagian Prosper tells us, Mortalem vitam honestare possunt, aeternam conferre non possunt. God has ordained men to a choicer end, than these natural faculties can either deserve, or obtain, or enjoy. Nature's hand cannot earn it; Nature's hand cannot reach it, Nature's eye cannot see it. That glorious and ultimate end, which must fill and satiate the being of man, is the beatifical vision of God himself. Now there is no natural power nor operation proportioned to such a transcendent object as the face of God, as the naked essence of a Deity. Inferior creatures may, & do move within the compass of their natures, and yet they reach that end which was propounded and assigned to their being: but such was the special and peculiar love of God, which he manifested to a rational nature, as that it must be advanced above itself by a supernaturale auxilium, before it can be blest with so great a perfection, as to arrive to the full end of its being. Yet God has touched nature with himself, and draws it by the attractive and magnetical virtue of so commanding an object as his own essence is, which makes Nature affect and desire somewhat supernatural, that it may make nearer approaches unto happiness; for this end God did assume humane nature to the divine, that he might make it more capable of this perfection, and by a strict love-knot and union might make it partaker of the divine nature; not that 'tis changed into it, but that it has the very subsistence of its happiness by it. Every being does naturally long for its own perfection, and therefore a rational nature must needs thus breath and pant after God, and the nearer it comes to him, the more intensely and vehemently it does desire him, for as they tell us, Motus naturalis velocior est in sine, the nearer a body approaches to its centre, the more cheerful and vigorous is its motion. The Understanding that sees most of God, desires to see more of him; its eye will never leave rolling till it fix itself in the very centre of the Divine essence. Nature that has but some weak glimpses of him, and so it has but faint and languishing velleities after him. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as he speaks of the Heathens, they seem to nod after a summum bonum. What the states and conditions of those Heathens was and is in order to eternal happiness, we cannot easily nor certainly determine; yet thus much may be safely granted, though we say not with the Pelagians, that the emprovements of nature can make men happy; nor yet with the Semi-Pelagians that natural preparations and predispositions do bespeak & procure Grace; nor yet with the Papists and Arminians, that works flowing from Grace do contribute to more Grace & Glory, yet this we say, that upon the improvement of any present strength, God out of his free goodness, may if he please give more. As God freely gave them nature (which makes Pelagius sometimes call Nature Grace) and as he freely, and out of his Grace gave them some improvement of Nature, so he might as freely give them supernatural strength if it so please him. Yet a creature cannot come to heaven by all those improvements which are built upon Nature's foundation; for if it should accurately and punctually observe every jot and tittle of Nature's Law, yet this natural obedience would not be at all correspondent or commensurate to a supernatural happiness, which makes Saint Augustine break out into such an expression as this; Qui dicit hominem servari posse sine Christo, dubito an ipse per Christum servari possit; for this is the only way, the new and living way, by which God will assume humane nature to himself, and make it happy. Yet notwithstanding their censure is too harsh and rigid, who as if they were Judges of eternal life and death, damn Plato and Aristotle without any question, without any delay at all; and do as confidently pronounce that they are in hell, as if they saw them flaming there. Whereas the infinite goodness and wisdom of God might for aught we know find out several ways of saving such by the Pleonasmes of his love in Jesus Christ; he might make a Socrates a branch of the true Vine, and might graft Plato and Aristotle into the fruitful Olive; for it was in his power, if he pleased, to reveal Christ unto them, and to infuse faith into them after an extraordinary manner; Though indeed the Scripture does not afford our charity any sufficient ground to believe that he did; nor dorh it warrant us peremtorily to conclude the contrary. Secreta Deo, it does not much concern us to know what became of them; let us then forbear our censure, and leave them to their competent Judge. But when we mention Socrates, Plato and Aristotle, and the more eminent and refined ones among the Heathens, you must be sure not to entertain such a thought as this, that the excellency of their intellectuals and morals did move and prevail with the goodness of God to save them more than others of the Heathen, as if these were dispositiones de congruo merentes salutem aeternam, this indeed were nothing but Pelagianism a little disguised; whereas you must resolve it only into the free grace of God, that did thus distinguish them here in time, and might more distinguish them eternally, if it pleased him to bestow a Saviour upon them. Which grace of God is so free, as that it might save the worst of the Heathens, and let go the rest; it might save an Aristophanes as well as a Socrates, nay before a Socrates, as well as a Publican before a Pharisee: not only all Heathen, but all men are of themselves in equal circumstances in order to eternal happiness; 'tis God only that makes the difference, according to his own determinations, that were eternal and unconditional. Yet I am far from the mind of those Patrons of Universal Grace, that make all men in an equal propinquity to salvation, whether Jew's, or Pagans, or Christians; which is nothing but dight and guilded Pelagianism, whilst it makes grace as extensive and Catholic, a principle of as full latitude as nature is, and resolves all the difference into created powers and faculties. This makes the barren places of the world in as good a condition as the Garden of God, as the enclosure of the Church: It puts a Philosopher in as good an estate as an Apostle; For if the remedium salutiferum be equally applied to all by God himself, and happiness depends only upon men's regulating and composing of their faculties; how then comes a Christian to be nearer to the Kingdom of Heaven than an Indian? is there no advantage by the light of the Gospel shining among men with healing under its wings? Surely, though the free grace of God may possibly pick and choose an Heathen sometimes, yet certainly he does there more frequently pour his goodness into the soul where he lets it stream out more clearly and conspicuously in external manifestations. 'Tis an evident sign that God intends more salvation there, where he affords more means of salvation; if then God do choose and call an Heathen, 'tis not by universal, but by distinguishing grace. They make Grace Nature, that make it as common as Nature. Whereas Nature when 'twas most triumphant, shining in its Primitive beauty and glory, yet even than it could not be happy without Grace. Adam himself besides his integritas naturae, had also adjutorium gratiae, for as the Schoolmen explain it, though he had viros idoneas ad praestanda omnia naturalia; reipsa tamen nihil praestitit sine auxilio gratiae. As, if you expect any goodly and delicious clusters from a Vine, besides its own internal form which we'll style Nature, there must be also auxilium gratiae, the Sun must favour it and shine upon it, the rain must nourish it, and drop upon it, or else Nature will never be pregnant and fruitful. Adam's Candle did not shine so clearly, but that Grace was fain to snuff it. Nature, though 'twere complete and entire, yet 'twas feign to strengthen and support itself by its twine about Grace, and for want of the powerful support and maintenency of Grace, Nature fell down presently; it startled from itself, and apostatised like a broken bow. What mean the Pelagians to tell us of a Naturalis Beatitudo, when as Nature now is surrounded with so many frailties and miseries, so many disorders and imperfections? Yet were it as green and flourishing as ever it was when 'twas first planted in Paradise, yet even then 'twould be too remote from happiness, for perfect happiness excludes and banishes all futurity and possibility of misery, which Nature never yet did, nor could do. And happiness never flows out till the Sun look upon it, till it see the face of God himself, whom Nature's eye will ne'er be able to behold. Yet Oh! how desirous is Nature of this? how inquisitive is humane Nature into the causes of things, and esteems it no small piece of its beatitude if it can find them out? Foelix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas. What a goodly sight is it then to behold the first cause of all being, and its own being? how fain would an intellectual eye behold him that made it! Nature longs to see who 'twas that first contrived it, and framed it, and fashioned it; the soul would fain see its Father of Spirits. The Candle would fain shine in the presence of him that lighted it up.  
Yet Nature cannot see the face of God and live. Ante obitum nemo supremáque funera foelix. The Moralists happiness is dormant in the nighttime, for there's no operatio secundùm virtutem then, nor can the soul while 'tis clogged with a frail body, climb to the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of goodness or happiness; the soul here has not a perfect enjoyment of inferior objects, much less of God himself; it has but a shadowy sight of Angels propter connaturalitatem intellectûs nostri ad phantasmata; and if nature's eye cannot look upon the face of a twinkling Star, how will it behold the brightness of a dazzling Sun? that general knowledge which it hath of God here is mixed with much error and deceit.  
Nor can Faith look upon the divine essence; 'tis a lovely grace indeed, yet it must die in the Mount like Moses; it cannot enter into the Land of promise; 'tis auditui magis similis quam visioni, it hears the voice of its God, it does not see his face, it inflames the desire of the soul, it does not quench it, for men would fain see what they believe; the object of Faith is obscure and at a distance, but the face of God is all presence and brightness. Happiness it consists in the noblest operation of an intellectual being, whereas in believing there is imperfectissima operatio ex parte intellectûs, licèt sit perfectio ex parte objecti.  
Nor yet is the divine essence seen in a way of demonstration, for then only a Philosopher should see his face, such only as had skill in Metaphysics, who yet may be in misery for all that, for demonstrations are no beatifical visions. The damned spirits can demonstrate a Deity, and yet they are perpetually banished from his face: there can be no demonstration of him à priore, for he is the first cause, and all demonstrations fetched from such effects as flow from him, they do only show you that he is, they do not open and display the divine essence, for they are not effectus adaequantes virtutem causae. To see God in the creatures, 'tis to see him veiled, 'tis to see him clouded. The soul will not rest contented with such an imperfect knowledge of its God, it sees him thus here, and yet that does not hush and quiet rational desires, but does increase and enlarge them. Such things as last long, are perfected slowly, and such is happiness; the knowledge of men here 'tis too green and crude, 'twon't ripen into happiness, till the Sun shine upon it with its blessed and immediate beams. God therefore creates and prepares a Lumen Gloriae for the soul, that is, such a supernatural disposition in an intellectual eye, by which 'tis clarified and fortified, and rightly prepared for the beholding the divine essence, which makes Dionysius the falsely supposed Areopagite, very fitly describe happiness by this, 'tis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the souls sunning of itself in the Lumen Gloriae. Some will have that of the Psalmist to be sung in the praise of this light, In lumine tuo videbimus lumen. That Seraphical Prophet does thus most excellently represent it: The Sun shall be no more thy light by day; neither for brightness shall the Moon give light unto thee, but the Lord shall be unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God thy glory, Isai. 60. v. 19 You have it thus rendered in the Apocalypse: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. This lumen gloriae, which is similitudo quaedam intellectûs divini (as the Schoolmen speak,) this light 'tis not so much for the discovering of the object, (for that's an intellectual Sun clothed with all perfection and brightness,) as 'tis for the helping and advancing of a created understanding, which else would be too much oppressed with the weight of glory; but yet this augmentation of the visive faculty of the soul, by the Lumen Gloriae, 'tis not per intentionem virtutis naturalis, but 'tis per appositionem novae formae: 'tis not the raising and screwing of nature higher, but 'tis the adding of a new supernatural disposition that may close with the divine essence; for as Aquinas has it, Ipsa divina essentia copulatur intellectui, ut forma intelligibilis, humane understanding is as the matter accurately predisposed by the Lumen Gloriae, for the receiving of the divine essence, as an intelligible form stamps an impression of itself upon it; it prints the soul with that summum bonum which it has so much longed for.  
So that though there be still an infinite disproportion between God and the creature in esse naturali, yet there is a fit and just proportion between them in esse intelligibili. Though an eye be enabled to behold the Sun, yet this does not make it all one with the Sun, but it keeps its own nature still as much as it did before.  
Nor is this vision a comprehensive vision, for a finite being will never be able fully to grasp an infinite essence; 'tis true indeed, it sees the whole essence of God, not a piece of his face only, for all essence is indivisible, especially that most simple and pure essence of God himself, but the soul does not see it so clearly, and so strongly as God himself sees it; hence degrees of happiness spring, for the Lumen Gloriae being variously shed amongst blessed souls, the larger measure they have of that, the brighter sight have they of the divine essence. Several men may look upon the same face, and yet some that have more sparkling eyes, or some that stand nearer may discern it better; if a multltude of spectators were enabled to behold the Sun, yet some of them that have a more strong and piercing eye might see it more clearly than the rest. In this glass of the divine essence glorified souls see all things else that conduce to their happiness; as God by seeing himself the cause and fountain of beings, sees also all effects that come streaming from him; so these also looking upon the Sun, must needs see his beams; they see the Sun, and see other things by the Sun: they see there omnium rerum genera & species, they there behold virtutes, & ordinem universi. Yet because they do not see the essence of God clearly and perfectly, (that is, comprehensively) so neither can they see all those treasures of mysterious wisdom, of unsearchable goodness, of unlimited power, that lie hid in the very depth of the divine essence. Non vident possibilia, nec rationes rerum, nec ea quae dependent ex pura Dei voluntate, as the Schoolmen do well determine; yet all that a glorified understanding sees, it's in one twinkling of its eye, for it sees all by one single species, by the divine essence. It forgets its wrangling Syllogisms, it leaves its tardy demonstrations when it once comes to an intuitive knowledge. Non movetur de uno intelligibili in aliud, sed quiescit in actu unico, for the state of happiness is a Sabbatical state. The soul rests and fixes itself in one act of perpetual enjoyment, and by this participation of simultaneity it partakes of eternity, for that is tota simul.  
Whether this glorious happiness be more principally situated in an act of the understanding, or of the will, I leave the Thomists and Scotists to discuss it; only this I will say in the behalf of Aquinas, that the will cannot enjoy this happiness any other ways, then as 'tis a rational appetite. For there is a blind appetite of good in every being, which yet neither has nor can have such happiness. As therefore the operations of the will, so the happiness of the will also seems to be subordinate to that of the understanding. But it is enough for us that an entire soul, an whole rational being is united to its dearest, fairest, and supreme object in a way of pure intuitive speculation, in a way of sweetest love and fruition. Nor could nature of itself reach this, for an inferior nature cannot thus unite itself to a superior, but only by his indulgence raising it above itself.  
This Candle of the Lord may shine here below, it may and doth aspire, and long for happiness; but yet it will not come near it, till he that lighted it up, be pleased to lift it up to himself, and there transform it into a Star, that may drink in everlasting light and influence from its original and fountain-light.    

THE Schism.  1 COR. 3. 4. 
For while one saith I am of Paul, and another, I am of Apollo, are ye not carnal?  
THE Corinthians were Paul's Epistle, as he himself styles them; writ in a very legible character, to be seen, and read of all men; and to be set as a copy, for others to write after. No doubt but the Apostle had penned it very fairly; it was not writ with Ink (as he himself tells us), and yet I know not how, he meets with some blots and dashes in it; nay, the Epistle's ready to be torn asunder, and rend in pieces by strifes and divisions; While one saith, I am of Paul, and another, I am of Apollo's. Corinth the famous 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of Achaia, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or as Tully, Lumen Graciae: a mart-towne of great resort, whence as Eustathius tells us; Thucydides termed it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, fenced with a Castle, which they called Acro-Corinthus, as the Poet loftily; Quà summus casus Acro-corinthus in auras Tollit, & alternâ geminum mare protegit umbrâ. So that 'twas for strength impregnable; for command, very powerful; being able to cut off all passage by land, from one half of Greece to the other; and hence as Casaubon well observes out of the nineth book of Strabo ', Geography; this was one of those Cities which were termed Compedes Graciae. It mastered the Ionian and Aegean Seas, on both which it had very commodious havens; the Sea on each side washing it, whence he calls it, bimaris Corinthus, and the Greeks 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The people (as in such places they use to be) were rich, and luxurious, proud, and contentious, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and so on, as Strabo in the eighth of his Geography. And I find in Hesychius that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is no better than 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; and here lived Lais, that famous Courtesan, that asked Demosthenes so dear for repentance. The City was full of Philosophers, and Rhetoricians, full of Artificers, famous for new inventions; whence the Lyric applies that chiefly to them: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. But God tells Paul in a vision in the 8th of the Acts; that he had much people in this city. The Apostle he spends a year and six months amongst them, preaching the Gospel, and planting of a Church: and when from thence he ●ailed into Syria, he left Apollo's his successor for the watering of his plantation. Now in the Church which Paul had planted, and which Apollos had watered, and which God had blest and given an increase unto; in the flourishing Church at Corinth, where there were so many Christians eminent for grace, and religion, Non cuivis contingit adire a●ire Corinthum, every one could not reach to so high a degree of piety; yet even here there are strifes, and divisions, and tumults, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, one standeth for Paul, and another for Apollo's. Weeds they'll spring up though Paul never planted them, and though Apollo's never watered them, to be sure God he never blest them; and yet they'll find an increase. No Church so fair in this world as to be without spot and wrinkle, none so happy as to be wholly privileged from jars and dissensions: even in Parradise there was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; only in heaven there's, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and Jerusalem which is above, that's a city compacted, united within herself: Peace is within her walls; and happiness within her palaces. Heaven's full of perfect harmony, there's music without the least discord, but we can't look for a Church triumphant here below. And yet we meet with none so much blamed for strifes, and divisions as this of Corinth: indeed the very Genius of the people strongly inclined them this way; and though it be true that grace doth not only polish and gild over nature; (Mortality knows how to do that) but even subdue it, and change the very frame and constitution of it: yet being that 'tis not wholly conquered here; 'tis like 'twill show itself most in some domineering corruptions, which generally reigned amongst them; even the Christians at Corinth are contentious; Animi inflammati ebulliunt ad certamen: they were wholly disjointed in affection, and therefore the Apostle desires that they might be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; and this is the very time, as Hierome tells us when Episcopacy was first established in the Church; when one said I am of Paul, and another I am of Apollo's 'twas thought fit to set some prime ruler over the rest for the better calming, and composing of these strifes, and tum lts. And the Scholiast tells us that this Apollo's mentioned in the text was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the first Bishop of Corinth. Now as for the words. I am of Paul, and I am of Apollo, even amongst expositors as well as amongst the Corinthians there are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; for the better clearing of them it won't be amiss to compare them with that twin-place. 1 Cor 1. 12. Every one of you saith; you see how quickly schism had spread itself, how soon a little leaven had leavened the whole lump. Every one of you says, I am of Paul, and I am of Apollo, and I am of Cephas, (that's of Peter) and I am of Christ. The Major part of interpreters will by no means yield that the Apostle blames any such as said they were of Christ; but only complains of this, that whereas the greatest part of them had with full voice cried up Paul and Apollo, and Peter, only some few at length they stand for Christ; whereas all should have challenged this honourable and glorious title of Christian to themselves▪ Pauci dixerunt quod omnes dicere debuerunt, as he speaks: and one would have thought the very name Christian should have been better able to still these stir in the Church, then that of Quirites was presently to hush, and lay the commotions in Caesar's army. chrysostom he thinks the Apostle brings it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and puts in his own voice; You indeed are for Paul, and Apollo, and Peter, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, I am for none but Christ: but others, and they of a very strong, and piercing insight in the scripture, think even such may justly be blamed by the Apostle that said they were of Christ▪ if they did this in a violent and contentious way either (first) so as to exclude 〈◊〉 others from Christ that were not every way of their mind, or else (secondly) so as to vilify the Ministers of Christ. For perhaps it might be spoken by some that had heard Christ himself preach with authority and power; and for them hence to slight Paul, and disesteem Apollo's, surely this deserved a sharp, and cutting reprehension. A fond conceit rooted in the minds of many now adays: that if they had heard but Christ himself preach, they doubt not but they should have believed. Blessed indeed were the eyes that saw their Saviour, and the ears that heard the gracious words that flowed out of his mouth; but yet such as believe not Moses and the Prophets, the Apostles and Ministers sent in the name of Christ; neither would they believe if they should hear Christ himself preaching unto them, discovering his sweetest love, and dearest affection, unbosoming and unboweling himself, wooing and beseeching them to be reconciled unto God. It has been well observed that we read of far more converted by the ministry of the Apostles then by Christ himself, because he provided to magnify the excellency of his spiritual presence above his personal. Even such may be blamed as say they are of Christ. Now as for the other branch, I am of Cephas, we never read of Peter's being at Corinth, 'tis like therefore 'twas spoke by some Jews, that crept in amongst them, and extolled him as their Apostle; Peter being a Minister of the circumcision, as Paul was of the uncircumcision. And therefore the Apostle useth the name Cephas rather than Peter; it being nomen Hebraeo-Syrum; with which the Jews were much better acquainted. The Popish expositors they are of Cephas. Baronius, and his troops would fain persuade us that the Apostle doth not blame any such as said they were of Cephas, no more than he doth them that said they were of Christ. Such indeed as followed Paul, and Apollo's must needs be schismatics, but such as kept themselves to the prime Bishop, and chief head of the Church next under Christ, to Peter, these are Catholics like themselves. Others that can't wink so much but that they must needs see even Cephas followers come under the Apostles reprehension: they sweat and take great pains to very little purpose, whilst they go about to prove, that by Cephas here is not meant Peter, but some of that name, that preached at Corinth, but who it should be they can't very well tell. You see how Cephas, who like his Saviour was, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, becomes to them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Was Peter any better than a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉? and doth not the argument hold as strongly? Was Cephas crucified for you? or were you baptised into the name of Cephas? This indeed we'll easily grant, and 'tis by the joint consent of all Interpreters, that under these names of Paul, and Apollo's, and Peter; there is a reprehension wisely and warily couched of such false Apostles as were amongst them, whom Paul, 2 Cor. 11. 6. styles 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Words so big with Emphasis, as they hardly admit of a Translation, yet thus that place is rendered. I was not a whit behind the very chiefest Apostles: Where Paul doth not speak (as it is usually taken) in respect of such as were true Apostles, but only in reference to such as had nothing to set them out, but lofty words of their own, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. One would have thought 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 had been a swelling title, and somewhat with the highest; but they in their own conceits are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Paul acknowledgeth himself less than the least of the Apostles, and unworthy to be called an Apostle; and yet he did 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he might well have the pre-eminence of them. These were they that thought to ingratiate themselves with the Corinthians, by an outward pomp of words, and splendour of humane wisdom▪ they made 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. For the Scholiasts they did 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Phocius, they did monopolise the people, when as they should 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; setting out truths, in a painted and meretricious bravery; nay, blending them with errors and humane devices, with the crude imaginations of their own brain: And thus the Apostle tacitly insinuates an argument, à minore admajus; If it a were a gross and carnal thing, as no doubt but 'twas, to side with Paul that planted the Church, and to glory in Apollo's that watered it: Then much more to side with such a false Apostle, that went about to overthrow it, and such another that meant to extirpate it. And that the Apostle thus aims at them, 'tis clear out of the 4th Chapter of this Epistle, and the 6th Verse. (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, chrysostom:) These things says he, have I transferred in a figure to myself, and to Apollo: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Haec transtuli in faciem meam, according to the Syriack▪ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; if we would rendered Hellenistically, as Heinsius tells us. These things have I hiddenly spoke, and yet not so secretly, but that they might very well take notice of it. But yet thus he did, that his reproof might be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the Scholiast speaks: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Chrysostom, a word well entertained; that he might soften, and supple his reprehension, so as it might become a precious Oil: that he might by no means exasperate these false Apostles; lest thus, while he spoke against Schisms, and tumults in the Church; he might increase them which were already, and occasion greater. And therefore, as a learned Interpreter hath well observed; 'tis like that they did not yet strike at the essentials, or fundamentals of Religion; for then Paul would have more openly, and piercingly reproved them. His words now were smother than Oil; but then they should have been very swords. You see the wisdom of our Apostle, and you see the pregnancy of Scripture-sense, which in the same speech hath several aims, all full of excellent use. Paul here takes off the Corinthians from their siding with false Apostles, and from their over-esteeming conceit which they had of true ones. And though some take the former to be the main drift, and scope of the place: Yet I shall rather incline to them that rest in the latter, as the more proper and genuine meaning of it; having more vicinity with the letter of the Text, and being clearer out of the whole Series of the Chapter: For what is Paul? and what is Apollo? Paul did but plant, and Apollo did but water: 'Twas God only that gave the increase; so that he that plants is nothing, nor he that waters; but God that gives the increase. You see how the Apostle makes it his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to beat down those over-high thoughts which they had of such as indeed deserved esteem, and double honour; of such as were nuncii pulchri pedis, as the Hebrews love to speak. Oh, how beautiful were their feet, that brought the glad tidings of salvation; and yet such must not be adored, and deified; as if the gods had been come down amongst them, as so many Saviour's that had been crucified for them, and into whose Name they had been baptised. Now that the Corinthians did thus glory in them, 'tis sure, and that in a double respect. 1. As being baptised by them; and thus, I am of Paul, and I am of Apollo; is as much as I am baptised by Paul, and I by Apollo; and this was strengthened by an erroneous conceit amongst them, that the efficacy of the Ordinance depended upon the worthiness of the Minister; Therefore Paul in the following words tells us for his part, that he baptised very few of them; lest they should say, that he baptised into his own name. And I find in very good Authors, that from this time, the form of Baptism in the Greek Church was altered: For whereas before, 'twas 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, ever since this 'twas 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, lest they should seem to baptise into their own name. It is not for me to question the wisdom of the Church, in altering their form: But this I am sure, that that which we still keep, is very warrantable; while the Minister saith, I baptise thee. 'Tis clear, not in his own name, while he adds, as they also did; In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Ghost. But secondly, I am of Paul, and I am of Apollo's; They are words of such as gloried in the several gifts, and diversity of excellencies which they had in preaching the Gospel, and publishing the welcome news of salvation by Christ; and thus 'tis, I am Paul's disciple, and I am Apollo's his. One likes the powerful plainness of Paul, another the ample plenty, and variety of Apollo's: A third, the solidity, and perspecuity of Cephas. And here we will see as well as we can, by those obscure vestigia which we meet withal, wherein their several excellencies lay. And as for Paul, we find him himself yielding by way of concession, 2 Cor. 11. 6. that he was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, rude in speech. Although indeed, I know not where to meet with more strong, and masculine eloquence, then in this our Apostle; that eloquence that had 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Eunapius speaks; Eloquence more fitted, and suited to the persons to whom he spoke, and the places where he was: Yet this was that so much objected to him by those false Apostles; that prided themselves so much in a flaunting gaudy eloquence of their own, and esteemed Paul's preaching mere simplicity; and their followers, even the wiser sort of the Corinthians thought it no better than foolishness, as he himself tells us. But some of the more Christian sort amongst them, they ran into the other extreme; and were so far in love with that as they liked none else. He preached in a plain and a familiar way, sharply convincing the judgement. We have these characters of Apollo in the 18th of the Acts: That he was, 1. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, an eloquent man. 2. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, well skilled in the Scriptures, so the Idiom carries it; we rendered powerful in the Scriptures. 3. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he was earnest in his preaching, fervent in spitit. 4. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he taught us accurately, exactly; we have it diligently. 5. He did 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. As the Heathens painted their Apollo, their god of eloquence; he had his harp, and his arrows, his sweet and piercing expressions; there was the voice of the charmer, charming most sweetly: and there were arrows in the hand of the mighty; happy he, for he had his quiver full of them. I suppose he wrought chiefly upon the affections, in a more Rhetorical manner.—  
Cephas, he laid down the principles of Religion in a more Catechetical way; he opened the Scriptures, and discovered a treasure of heavenly wisdom in every iota of holy writ. Such places, as he in his Epistle calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he laid them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that I may borrow the expression in the Hebrews, and so he was more for the enlightening, and information of the mind. Peter, he unsheathed the sword of the Spirit; Apollos▪ he flourished, and brandished the glittering sword; Paul, he strikes with it, and pierceth to the dividing asunder of the joints, and marrow; and to the discerning of the very thoughts and intentions of the heart: And though these here say no more, than I am of Paul, and I am of Apollo's: Abrupt language will serve their turn; it is enough they can express their minds; Yet no doubt, but some of the Corinthians could spin out their thoughts into a fairer thread, and thus one might speak for Paul.—  
What, did you ne'er hear Paul preach? Did you ne'er see him wield those weapons of his warfare, which are not carnal; but mighty through God, to the pulling down of the strong holds of Satan, and to the beating down every high, and towering imagination; which advanceth itself against the knowledge of Christ, and captivating it into the obedience of Jesus Christ? Oh how he speaks, as if he were within a man; as if he supplied the place of conscience! He has a window into the breast; he opens the window, and darts in a beam of irresistible light; Which though vain man may seek to imprison in unrighteousness, and thus become the jailor of Truth: Yet as the light for a while, shut up in a cloud; easily breaks prison, and shows his glorious face to all beholders: So the Truth discovers itself, will set itself at liberty; and he, when he sees his prisoner loose, like that other jailor in the Acts; falls down, and amazed, cries out, Sirs, What shall I do to be saved? 'Tis hard to imprison so strong a light. Cephas indeed preacheth very well, and sound: And Apollo's perhaps with more elegancy of expression, and greater discovery of affection; but give me the convincing strength of Paul, who though he be rude in speech, yet he comes in the very evidence, and demonstration of the Spirit; as for me, I am of Paul.  
Another he's for Apollo's. 'Tis true Paul preaches very powerfully, and so doth Cephas very profitably; but yet me thinks none so movingly as Apollo. Oh did you see with what a sweet facility he slides into his hearers? O how with a happy fluence he insinuates himself into them? Oh did you see how 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 met together, how sweetness and violence kissed each other? Did you mind with what a holy variety he refreshed his hearers, and how he led affection by the hand, which way he pleased? One while he dips each word in a tear; another while he steeps every phrase in honey now he breathes out flames, that he may thaw a frozen generation; by and by he speaks in a silken Dialect; and clothes his speech with the soft raiments of a more pleasant eloquence. If he flames in terrors you'd think the Pulpit a mount Sina, nothing but thundering, and lightning, and the voice of the Trumpet; so that the people exceedingly quake and tremble. If he breathe out peace, and open the bowels of mercy, if he display the riches of reconciliation in Christ, why now it becomes a mount of Olives, nothing but peace and sweetness, and a gentle air. Christ is seen in the mount, now his doctrine drops as the rain, and his speech distilleth as the dew: as the soft rain upon the tender herbs▪ and as the showers upon the grass, Heavenly Apollo! How is my soul taken with thy powerful eloquence? O that I might for ever live under so happy a Ministry. Let whose will be for Paul, I am for Apollo. A third he's for Cephas.  
For my part, I like Paul well enough: neither can there be much fault found with Apollo: but yet none pleases me so well as Cephas. O how doth he explain the Oracles of God, and unriddle the mysteries of salvation? O how doth he stoop to the lowest capacity, and feed us with the sincere milk of the word that we may grow thereby? how doth he come with line upon line, drop upon drop, precept upon precept, here a little, and there a little? O how doth he unveil, and ●nmaske heavenly truths; so as each eye may see their beauty, and every soul become enamoured with them? What a lustre doth he set upon the pearl of price,; so as one would willingly part with all they have for the purchasing of it? Let others follow Paul, and admire Apollo: I am sure I profit by none so much as by Peter; I am of Cephas.  
You see here the Corinthians vanity, and in it our propensity to glory in men, and that because we are carnal, which brings us to the Apostles censure painted with a stinging interrogation, Are ye not carnal? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, nun homines estis? So the vulgar Latin, it seems that makes it equivalent to be men, and to be carnal; indeed there's but little difference, Paul himself calls it in the former verse 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Nun corporejestis? So the Syriack hath it, as 'tis usually translated, Don't you seem to be all body, to have nothing of a soul in you, nothing of a more refined part, whilst you thus judge only according to outward appearance? and so I suppose 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is a degree below 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and yet he savours not the things of God▪ But the force of the Original there reaches further; even to this Nun cadaverosi estis? as the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, from whence it springs, plainly shows. Carnal men they are dead in trespasses, and sins (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Lucian calls old men) though they esteem it their only life, as he sings Vivamus m●a Lesbian.  
But here 'tis to be took in a more candid sense; for the Apostle speaks to such as were regenerate, and in the state of grace; to such as were 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he himself calls them babes in Christ, so that here 'tis meant either (first) have not you such gross apprehensions as carnal men use to have? or else (secondly) are not ye carnal in this? and thus the most refined, and spiritualised Christian is gross, and carnal in part. In the best soul there are schisms and divisions, even here and there are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the Moralist: Every one has a double self, an Antagonist within himself We use to call a friend Alter ego; but here the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is the greatest enemy. This Plato means when he tells us of his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 'Tis like they reached no further than the rebellion of the sensitive soul against the rational, the struggling of reason with appetite: But we know of a nearer, and so a sharper conflict between the flesh, and the Spirit in the regenerate, the fight's described at large by our Apostle in the seventh to the Romans; and this is that which a Christian so much groans under; as Porphyr● says of Plotinus, that he so lived, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ we find it true in St. Paul, when he cries out, O who'll deliver me from this body of death! 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. But I shall let this pass as not being formally in the text, but only virtually there, and by just consequence might be deduced from it▪ as many the like observations also might: and we'll look upon the several aggravations in these words: Are ye not carnal? (first) You, that for time, and means might have been spiritual; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as he in the Greek Epigram calls out to Lycurgus, that cut down so many vines because they brought forth too much fruit, the blood of the grapes which he thought too generous; he speaks to him that he would be pleased to cut down his, because it brought forth none at all. What could they have done more to yours than they have done? and when they looked for grapes, do you bring forth wild grapes, full of sourness and bitterness, nothing but strife, and contention? is this the fruit of Paul's planting, and Apollo's watering? Nay how can they gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles! You that have drunk in the rain, which so often fell upon you; do you now bring forth nothing but briers and thorns▪ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or else you may look for the terrible curse upon the figtree, Never fruit grow on thee more. Is this your best improvement of your so many precious, and golden opportunities? have you thus learned Christ? has the bright Sunshine of the Gospel beamed out so strongly, and gloriously upon you, and can't it so much as warm your affections? while you thus neglect and abuse the means of grace, aro you not carnal?  
2. You that would seem to be spiritual, are ye not carnal? What's become of your fair shows, and promising out▪ sides, and specious professions! are they vanished into this nothing, or worse than nothing! are our budding hopes so soon blasted, and do your forward resolutions so quickly languish? You that would have counted it an injury not to be thought Christians, and members of the Church, what do you mean to tear and rend the body in pieces? You that would have been looked upon as living stones, fit to build God an house, an habitation for the God of Jacob, do you now go about to demolish so fair a structure, and to bring into the temple the noise of axes, and hammers? You that would have been thought sharers in the communion of Saints, and to have had a chief part in that Spiritual consort, do you now put all out of tune by your strifes, and dissensions? while you show no better fruits than these, what ever you seem to be, are ye not carnal?  
3. Some of you that are truly spiritual, yet here in this, are ye not carnal? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; who has bewitched you, O Corinthians! that having begun in the Spirit, you should end in the flesh? You that are reconciled to a God of peace, and redeemed by a Saviour that breathed out nothing but love: You that are sanctified and sealed by a Spirit of unity, and have embraced a Gospel of peace in all meekness and subjection of mind, laying down your weapons of defiance: why do you now resist the goodness of so gracious a God, and kick against the bowels of so sweet a Saviour? why do you grieve the holy Spirit, and disgrace the Gospel, as if that taught you to be contentious? nay you that know that 'twas the hand of omnipotency that plucked you out of the jaws of hell, and destruction; and how 'twas not in the power of man or angel to unfetter you of the least corruption; you that know how jealous God is of his honour, and how he takes it more heinously to be robbed of it by his own people; whilst you now attribute all to men, as if they were the authors, and finishers of your faith, are ye not carnal?  
4 Even in that which you think yourselves spiritual, are ye not carnal? Perhaps you think you honour Paul, and reverence Apollo, and give due respect to the Ministers; but know that they are the friends of the bridegroom, and would have presented virgin-souls unto Christ and whilst you dote upon other loves, and fix your thoughts on inferior objects, you break Paul's heart, and discourage Apollo in his labour. Paul took you for his crown, and joy; but you prove no better than a crown of thorns, and pierce him through with many sorrows. Paul called you his epistle, but you prove his blot, and now me thinks you should correct your own thoughts, and even acknowledge yourselves carnal.  
5. In all this I appeal to yourselves; Are ye not carnal? Be your own judges; collect your thoughts together; consider it but with a serious, and composed spirit: carry yourselves to the rule, to the law, and to the testimony; see whether this be to be carnal or no, if you deny it, why thus you'll prove yourselves carnal, and more carnal than we hope you are: No question but you are carnal. And thus much may serve for clearing of the text. we'll now sum up the words together, and then they will amount to this proposition.  
That it is a gross and carnal thing to glory in the worthivesse, and excellencies of them that dispense the Mysteries of salvation. And (first) as it seeks to eclipse and obscure the glory of God. Nam ea est conditio imperandi, ut non aliter ratio constet, quam si uni reddatur. God hath taken all means for the brightening of his own Crown▪ and he that dares set it upon a creatures head; he that goes about to rest the golden Sceptre out of Gods own hand, and to place a creature in his Throne, must needs be reus laesae Majestatis in a high degree. Nobis obsequii gloria relicta est. As he in the forenamed Historian told his Emperor, though a cruel Tyrant; this is all the honour left to us, and 'tis enough to be wholly subject to so great and good a God, and to give all the glory unto him. Let not then the Wiseman glory in his wisdom; no neither let others glory in his wisdom, for 'tis gross Idolatry to attribute that to man which is due to God, to make them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which at the best are but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, even these idols are nothing. Now God that made us, and knows our mould and fashion, the weakness and frailty of our nature; how we use to poor upon the immediate agent, as present to our senses, and obvious to our apprehensions; though far inferior, and of a more ignoble being, as wholly dependant upon a higher cause: he therefore chose to himself so weak an instrument, as we could not possibly imagine, that that should have sufficient influence, for the producing of so great an effect; as that by the few words of a weak frail man, a precious, and an immortal soul should be eternally saved, which most make a greater work than that of the creation; that so we might be necessitated to look higher to the powerful hand of God that brings so great things to pass. And this is his usual method, and manner of dealing. Thus hath he chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise: and 'tis plain as they tell us in Optics that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 non sunt acuti visûs, they give the reason, propter radios in illis dispersos magis et dissipatos: Men of vast intellectuals, of very fair eyes 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 they do but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in spirituals; they have some broken and scattered notions, which can't represent heavenly truths in their proper species: when as some of a less eye, oh how quick and piercing are they into these holy mysteries, and such as are dim-sighted in Philosophy become eagle-eyed in Divinity. chrysostom tells us of two in his time, a Greek, and a Christian, that were very hot in dispute, whether Paul, or Plato, were the better scholar. The Christian he amplifies St. Paul's wisdom, and excellency, the Greek scorns him, as rude and simple, and his writings not comparable to Plato's Philosophical, and lofty stile. The father he comes as 'twere to moderate; and when he had magnified St. Paul's learning, he seems to chide the Christian, that he did not yield the other what he would have. Grant indeed that Paul came in a more plain, and unlearned way, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Nothing tended more to the advancement of the Gospel, to the stopping of their mouths, than the consideration of this, that a few weak men by the foolishness of preaching; the preaching of a crucified Saviour confounded the grand 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of the world, and more prevailed upon the hearts of men, though prepossessed with contrary principles, than ever they could do with all their wisdom: For an handful of naked impotent men, to conquen an whole host of armed champions. These are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as he there speaks. Alas Moses Atticissant had a veil upon his face, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 could not see into so divine a mystery; nay, God hath chosen the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the mere▪ Non-entia of the world, to bring to nought the things that are. A strange Paradox, and enough to amaze an Aristotle, to hear of a Non Ens annihilating an Ens; and yet no principle surer, or clearer in all his Metaphysics, if it be took in this spiritual meaning: and that because, God hath chosen the things which are not at all in men's apprehensions; and of a very thin, and weak being in themselves, He hath chosen these to bring to nought the things that are: That thus his power may be the more eminent in their weakness, and his Majesty shine more gloriously in their contemptibleness. God could have clothed some bright Seraphim with light as with agarment, & sent him to have sparkled out Divinity amongst us. He could have made his Angel's 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, even in this sense ministering Spirits, for the good of them that should have been heirs of salvation; But then, we should have been took up too much with the glittering of the creatures, and our eyes dazzled with their brightness. God therefore hath made these Stars, even of the first magnitude to disappear, that the Son may be all in all. He hath hid the Pearl in a shell, and shut up his treasure 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: by an infinite condescension he speaks to us by Moses; and thus delivers the Gospel too by the hand of a Mediator. He hath sent us men 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Paul, and Apollo, and these fishers of men they came not with their silken line, and their golden hook; with the enticing words of man's wisdom, as they do that go about 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; no, they lay down the naked simplicity of the Gospel. Paul doth but plant, and Apollo's doth but water; and God is pleased by so weak means, in so plain a way, to bring about his own glorious ends. Ipsum coelum stultitiâ p●timus, in a better sense than e'er the Poet meant it; even by this foolishness of Preaching. Why then do you gaze on Paul, and glory in Apollo's; as if 'twere Paul's great parts that raised the Gospel, and Apollo's eloquence that set it off? What's this, but to oppose the Almighty, and to counterplot wisdom itself? God took this as a main way for the advancing of his glory, and you make't (as much as in you lies) wholly derogatory from it; and judge you, whether this be to be carnal or no. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us; but unto thy Name be given the glory.  
2. It is carnal, as it takes from the word of God, from its innate strength, and excellency; from its divine Majesty, and Royalty.  
1. From its strength, and excellency. The Gospel shines with its own beams, and need not borrow light from Paul, nor lustre from Apollo: When God hath once writ with his own finger upon the Tables of stone, they need then no humane polishing; and the Gospel is very gloriously clothed with such ornaments as Christ hath put upon it. The Image of God stamped upon the word, and this superscription is that which hath made it so currant, and all other writings to be but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in comparison of it. And in the plain preaching of the word, what a force and energy goes along with it: This is the voice of the Lord so powerful. that brings down the loftiest Cedars in Lebanon, and crusheth the strongest Oaks in Bashan. Man's eloquence doth but weaken, and soften the voice; and whilst 'twould make it more pleasant, makes it less powerful. That which Plutarch tells us of the Spartans', who for brevity were wont to speak as 'twere in characters, and sentences in punto; and for the weightiness of speech, they spoke in the lump, and massy sentences; he says of them, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; 'tis true here, Verbum Dei est sine cortice; 'tis all pith and strength, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as he there goes on, it is edged into efficacy. God himself hath been pleased to whet his sword; and as the Lacedaemonian, when he was asked whether his sword was sharp▪ or no; replied that 'twas 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, sharper than a calumny. 'Tis like his sword was not so sharp as his expression; but to be sure this two-edged sword, as 'tis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, so 'tis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it can pierce through all oppositions, cut asunder the contradictions of men, the most Gordian knots, the most nodosum ingenium, as he calls Tiberius: but then the quickening power of the Spirit must go along with it, as that famous Captain when he had lost his sword; he told his enemies, 'twas not so much the sword, as the arm; unless the arm of the Lord be revealed, there's none will believe our report, unless this formative virtue go along with it; instead of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it becomes but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Our Apostle in the second Chapter of this Epistle, tells us of a demonstration of the Spirit; Now 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (as he hath it) is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the native gloss of truth, which clearly shows it, and presently convinceth a man; there's no disputing against a domonstration. The word that evidences itself, and the Ministers they may strongly persuade; but unless the Spirit demonstrate, the soul hath never complete satisfaction; and the Spirit that may save extraordinarily without the Word, but the Word can't possibly save without the Spirit: But if this accompany it; O then, there is a glorious Twinlight springing from them both; and irradiating the soul with powerful, and enlivening beams arising with healing under its wings. O then, the sword of the Lord, and of Gideon conquer most victoriously, and then there's none able to withstand it; though like Mars himself, he be tunicâ tectus adamantinâ, and though this be in the hand of the weakest messenger; he that will resist it, must 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and such a one hath no great hope of victory, but he must fall down with Saint Paul's Idiot; and cry out, Surely God is in you of a truth. Why then do ye attribute all to Paul, and ascribe the glory to Apollo; as if the word were a dead letter, till quickened by Paul; and an empty breath, unless animated by Apollo: as if Paul did not only plant, but bless; and Apollo, not only 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Et Deus interim nihil faceret. He stood as a spectator all the while; when as indeed, Paul is but at the best, Echo Domini; he reflects the sound of the Gospel, the Echo that never speaks till it be spoken to: What I have received from the Lord, that deliver I unto you, and not as that doth dimidiata verba; no, he acquaints you with the whole will and counsel of God. And Apollo is but as Aristole calls a servant. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; he is Cythara Dei, strung and tuned by him, touched by his Spirit, and then making a most sweet and graceful melody. Paul may spend his strength in vain; and Apollo may stretch out his hand all the day long to a gainsaying, and disobedient people. Peter himself may toil all night, and catch nothing: Men of most rare accomplishments, and of indefatigable industry may spend all their days, and not save a soul; and others of far weaker abilities, may add daily to the Church such as shall be saved. God by his secret judgement may blast the labours of the one, because men glory too much in them; and by his goodness he may give increase to the other, because he hath more glory by them. This we are sure, 'tis the same word preached by Paul, and by other his fellow-labourers; and the Spirit breatheth when it pleases, and blows where it lists. And though these here had some more plausible excuse for their siding with Paul, and glorying in Apollo, as men furnished with extraordinary gifts, and the blessing of the Spirit in those primitive times, accompanying their labours in a more thankful manner; yet you hear the Apostles sharp reproof of them, even for this; are ye not carnal? But then  
2. As it takes from the Majesty of the Word. Is it fit that the word of God should stoop to man's fancy? Why, here's Paul and Apollo, men of admirable endowments, and of most exact holiness preaching the same Gospel; and yet 'tis embraced by some, when coming from one; and neglected, when published by another. It is the same truth, but not in the same dress: It is a sign, they never received the love of the truth; plain truth won't please them, it must be set out in such attire, as may best satisfy their eye; though sometimes not becoming the purity of 
Fox.  so chaste a Virgin. This Lumen siccum (as he speaks) doth parch and offend many men's soft natures. And though no doubt but Paul, and Apollo deny their own excellencies, and become wholly subservient to the Gospel; yet even in them they find somewhat to prefer one before the other. And unless the word of God were, as the Jews tell us of the Manna, though very fabulously, (yet we have the same in the Apocrypha in the 16th of Wisdom; that whatsoever Character, or Idea of taste a man shaped to himself in his fancy when he was eating the Manna, as most pleasant and delightful to him; it served to the appetite of the eater, and was tempered to every one's liking:) unless the word of God had so many several relishes, agreeable to every one's liking: Even this, though Angel's food shall be loathed, and nauseated, and surely this argues a carnal Spirit. Must the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 bow to you? and the Gospel of the Kingdom become so basely serviceable, as to do homage to your lusts? Must that word which should search the Conscience tickle the fancy, and feed a worm of curiosity that never dies? What are these but as Plutarch calls inquisitive delatours 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or in the Apostles phrase, men of itching cares, that catch more after an elegancy then after a promise, and are better pleased with a criticism then with a practical truth. You know whose speech 'twas, Pruritus disputandi est Ecclesiae scabies. we'll mould it a little to our purpuse, pruritus aurium est animae scabies. 'Tis carnal, as it takes from the word of God, from the strength of it, from the majesty of it.  
3. (Wh●ch is the main Argument urged by our Apostle) as it breeds ruptures in the Church, schisms, and divisions, which  
First, Hinder the communion of Saints: For all communion flows from union, and division takes that away. Some go about to make unity the very form of being; to be sure, it tends much to the well-being of the Church. Oh how happy, and pleasant a thing it is to see the Church's children spreading themselves like Olive-branches round about her table in a peaceable, and flourishing manner! But when they shall 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (as he speaks) think that the brightness of their brethren's condition, doth but obscure, and shadow theirs; and thus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (as he most elegantly,) if there be the least ansa or occasion of strife, Passion presently hooks it in, and is too apprehensive. When one shall say, I am of Calvin, and another, I am of Luther; when as they might both meet in the Name of Christian; nay, when by most ridiculous dissension (for we have heard of such a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) when one shall say, I am of Martin, and another, I am of Luther; whereas they did but divide Martin Luther, for they were both of his Religion; what must this needs bring, but a deformity, and confusion upon the face of the Church, a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 enough to make up a Chaos.  
Secondly, These Schisms, and Divisions, they stop the progress of the Gospel. If Christians would but take the Moralists counsel 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to spend, and derive their malice some other way; as civil wars are often quenched by setting upon some common enemy: this was always the Cretians custom, and from thence 'twas called Syncretismus; If we could hear of some happy Synchristianismus, when the hearts, and tongues, and pens of all them that profess the same faith in sincerity, would agree amongst themselves, and wholly oppose the main adversary: If we had not such narrow, and contracted souls; if God would be pleased to give us a larger heart, so as every one would become a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, wholly let go his private aims, and study the public good; what might not united forces do? How quickly would all difficulties vanish; every mountain become a plain, the seven hills amongst the rest? And the goodly fabric of the Church would go up with the shoutings, and acclamations of Grace, Grace, and quickly be at the top of its spiritual glory. O how should every one with the consideration of so happy a time have 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Eunapius speaks most elegantly; a sweet Chorus of well tuned affections, and a spirit tripudiating for joy, as Abraham did 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when he foresaw Christ's day, though that were afar off, and this near at hand.  
Thirdly, Schisms, and Divisions give great advantage to the enemies, and set up the kingdom of Satan, the Prince of the Air. The Church thus becomes militant against herself, and the enemy becomes triumphant. The devil danceth at discord; and as St chrysostom observes, when he heard that so goodly, and populous a City as this of Corinth, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 was like to entertain the Gospel; he knew no better way to hinder the success of it, then by presently planting a spirit of discord amongst them; as well knowing, that a Kingdom divided against itself, could not long stand. And all his agents that are subordinate to him, nihil spei nisi per discordias ●abent, as Tacitus saith notably of some in his time; and as he of others, they do per abrupta inclarescere, sed in nullum Reipublicae commodum. We might learn more wisdom of them that are wiser in their generation, than the children of light; what a strict union and confederacy have they among themselves, as that in Job is usually allegorized: These seals of the Leviathan are shut together, as with a close seal, in respect of their secrecy, and combines; and if they chance to be at variance, and jar amongst themselves, they have a sure way of meeting, and reconciliation by a joint opposing of the Church. But then as it gives this general advantage, so more specially, as it is the Original of all errors, and the inlet of all heresies. When men by a strange 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 shall set up some one as an oracle, and perpetual dictator in Divinity; If such a one broach an error, O how greedily do they drink it as if 'twere pure Nectar, some saving truth! when at the best it is but the poison of asps, a deadly, and desperate error. The devil thus serves them as Agrippina did Claudius; he mingles poison in their delicate meat, and they fall to 't with an appetite. As that great Scholar hath well observed; they were always learned men, which have been haereticorum Coryphaei: So withal they have been such, as by some deceitful carriages have won the hearts, and esteem of men, and thus could spread their infection farther. And though 'tis true, that Paul, and Apollo here mentioned in the Text, were in a manner privileged persons, acted by an extraordinary spirit; no fear of this in them: yet some that are admired as much, or more than ever they were; we can't tell how to secure them from it. And this is the third respect why 'tis carnal to glory in men, because it breeds Schisms and Divisions in the Church, which hinder the communion of Saints; stop the progress of the Gospel; give great advantage to the enemies, they being bolder to oppose, and that being weaker to resist▪ and then in a more special way, 'tis laid open to all errors, and heresies.  
Fourthly, As it draws evil out of good; and surely this if any thing else argues a carnal Spirit. God's attributes shine very gloriously, his wisdom and power more especially and eminently in extracting good out of evil; the least touch of providence turns all to gold, even sins that seems to be all dross, a mere obliquity, a transgression of the law; yet even this by the overruling hand of an infinitely wise God, becomes a clear illustration of his glory, and the crucifying of the LORD of Life, shall tend to the salvation of the Church: And a Christian thus far participates of the divine Nature, as that he can draw good out evil too, sweetness out of the worst condition, and gain strength by his corruptions. What then, must it needs show but a devilish, and envenomed spirit, that assimilates to itself, to t●rne every thing to poison, and this is the nature of corruption. Every thing that a carnal man toucheth, is defiled; he soils every Ordinance, and discolours every blessing▪ turns the grace of God into wantonness, he fights against God with his own weapons, with his most precious favours, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, by a most strange Chemistry; he extracts dross out of the purest refined gold; phlegm out of quintessence; dregs out of the purest spirits; a savour of death from that which breathes out nothing but life, and happiness. 'Tis clear in the Text. What a choice and magnificent gift was this a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to adorn the Church with all variety of excellencies? These made up the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they are the Needlework in the Spouses Garment, the opus ocellatum, God's 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, I and his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 abundantly displayed themselves in them: These were the Donaria which Christ gave at his Triumph; when he led captivity captive, he have gave gifts unto men. And see what use, and improvement they make of them. O how quickly do they become 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Strifes and Divisions, Bitterness and Contention, these are the best fruits they gather from so great a mercy. They that glory in some excellencies, vilify meaner; nay, they vilify choice ones too: For such as glory in Paul, slight Apollo; and such as admire Apollo, disesteem Paul, and both rend the Church in pieces. Do you thus requite the LORD, O ungrateful People, and unwise? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Lucian though an Atheist, could say so much. No gift coming from above is so mean, as to be despised, none so great, as to be gloried in. Me thinks the diversity of gifts in several men, hath some resemblance with the diversity of colours in several bodies. Some bodies you see are clothed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in bright, and orient colours. Nature took a Sunbeam for her Pencil, and flourished them most gloriously; they have 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the Philosopher speaks, a greater collection, and condensation of light, and are varnished over: other sullen, and discontented bodies in sad, and dusky colours, drawn with a coal 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Now the brightest colours they have aliquid umbrae; and the darkest they have aliquid lucis. And some bodies they are content with one colour; others have a pleasant variety, and are set out with a rich Embroidery. See the same in the excellencies of the mind: These 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, these interni colores, as I may so call them; which are divine light, severally distributed unto souls, where some have a fairer gloss set upon them, a twinkling, and glittering soul, all bespangled with light: others have more sad, and dark-coloured spirits. Now the brightest they have somewhat of a cloud; darkness and imperfection enough to take them off from boasting; and the darkest they have somewhat of a beam, some light, and excellency; enough to keep them from discouragement. Some are apparently eminent in one gift, others have variety of colours, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, animam variegatam. They that glory in some one excellency; what do they but as if a man should refuse to look only upon some one colour most pleasant to him; when as all are suitable to the eye, though some more delightful. All those tend to the beauty of Nature, and all these to the beauty of Holiness. Every one that is serviceable to the Temple, is not a Bezaleel and Aholiab, cunning to work in gold; and many that can build up the Temple, yet know not how to carve it. That which Philostratus has in the life of Apollonius, may be moralised into very good counsel, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Etiam Analecta deorum sunt colligenda; the least gift to be received with a most thankful acknowledgement, a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (as Eunapius calls a mean Scholar) a drop of Helicon, even that's precious; It is a notable speech of one of our Prelates, I think it honour enough to be vouchsafed to bring but one pin to the decking up of Christ's Spouse, whilst others adorn her with her costly Robes, and rich Medals. And thus 'tis carnal to glory in men, as it draws evil out of good.  
We should now spend a word or two in reference to Paul, and Apollo, that they would disclaim all glory, and ascribe it unto God. I know they did so; but I speak of such as have the like gifts, and excellencies: as Paul here in the Text, he chides the Corinthians for siding with him, and glorying in him; whilst one saith, I am of Paul, etc. and this is the most likely way to take them off from their vanity, when they shall see such a one as they glory in; not lightly, but sharply reproving them for it: and then in a real way men should so aim at the glory of God, as that wholly denying their own aims, and excellencies; all the world may see, that they only seek the advancement of the Gospel. And this should be done in a suitable way, chiefly improving that excellency which God hath entrusted them withal, and in a proportionable way; for to whom much is given, of them much is required. As God doth 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, dispense his gifts in proportion; so he looks for an improvement of them according to a geometrical proportion. Two men may give up their account, the one that has done less good with greater joy, because he did answerable to his Talon; when as the other entrusted with some golden, and precious excellency, may have done more good; but yet nothing so proportionable to his ability. But if men would thus lay out themselves, and unite their several gifts▪ and excellencies in one general aim, and faithfully improve them for the advantage of their Master, and good of their fellow-servants (which is a thing full of reason, and equity, as might be showed at large;) what glorious times should we then see? How would knowledge begin to cover the face of the Earth, as Waters do the Sea? How would the Tree of Knowledge be so laden with fruit, as that 'twould stoop down, and children might pick off the Apples that were ready to drop into their mouths? How would the world become (as he speaks) terebratus, & patens; full of fair windows, and goodly prospects, and all guilded over with light? And we should walk from strength to strength, till we appeared before GOD in Glory.   

THE ACT OF Oblivion.  ISAIAH 43. 25 
ay, even I am he that blot out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins.  
EVery Promise is a breast full of Consolation, that would fain be drawn: and as Job speaking of the breasts, calls them very elegantly, the milk-pales of the breast, they are as it were Carnea Mulctralia; So there are the Evangelica Mulctralia, receptacles of that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which is stored up for Babes in Christ, where the thirsty soul may come and fill itself with most precious sweetness. In the whole Word of God there is most sincere milk; but the Promises they are the cream, the flos lactis, the purest and sweetest of all.  
Here's one of the Vtres coelestes, a bottle filled with heavenly dew, which will never fail like that of Hagars; but cherish the soul, till it come to a well of life. Here's a pure emanation of God's sweetest love, which would fain communicate itself to a sinful creature; and therefore puts on the most amiable expressions that the wisdom of God himself can clothe it withal, while he breathes out free grace by the mouth of his Prophet to a disobedient and rebellious Israel, and beseeches them to be reconciled unto him.  
And if you look but upon the foregoing words, you will wonder how this Verse should come in; 'tis somewhat a strange context, an unusual kind of coherence. For God there complains by his Prophet, how that his people of Israel had done nothing at all for him; He took them indeed for his pleasant plant, but they were a very barren and ungrateful plant; He had made them a choice and a spreading plant, but not one delicious cluster to be found upon them. In the verse immediately before, Thou hast bought me no sweet Cane with money; 'tis meant of that Cane which was to be a chief ingredient into the precious ointment, as you may see in Exod 30. The Septuagint they render it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Neither haste thou made me to drink the fat of thy sacrifices; or as the words flow in the fountain, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Thou hast not moistened me abundantly with thy sacrifices: Not that the Jews did neglect these duties of God's worship, which were so strictly enjoined them in the Law; no, they were very punctual and accurate in observing that; but the force of the complaint lies in this, thou didst them not unto me; For  
1. Thou didst them not with that alacrity and cheerfulness of spirit which I required of thee, and might well expect from thee. Love should have dropped oil into the wheels, and thy ●oul should have moved like the chariots of Amminadab, with a nimble spontaneity; but thou wentest on heavily, and lookedst upon my service as an hard task and yoke, more intolerable than that of Egypt.  
2. Thou trustedst in thy legal performances, and thought'st to be justified by thine own righteousness; thou didst them not for those ends which I aimed at, for I intended only to raise thy thoughts higher to that great salvation which I had stored up for thee in the Messias.  
3. Thou didst them not to me, for many of thy sacrifices were offered up to idol-gods; thou didst not make me taste of them; I but thou didst make them drunk with them; thou didst even cloy and surfeit them with the fat of thy sacrifices.  
4. Thou didst them not to me, while thou restedst in a fair flourish of outward formality, and thou thought'st to put me off with a mock-worship, with a mere outside and surface of devotion; in giving me a shell, and nothing of the kernel: Thou couldst sin against me when thou list, and then thought'st to appease me with a sacrifice. They were white as milk, and ruddier than rubies, in their glorious profession, but within they were blacker than a coal; When you fasted, did you fast unto me? I hate your burnt offerings, my soul nauseates your solemn assemblies; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Bring me no more vain oblations; Odi Danaos & dona ferentes. He that will be my servant, let him seal up every spiritual service with integrity of heart. A pure soul that's the only present fit for a God, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a gift that may be united to God himself, as Hierocles speaks; Sacrifices and burnt-offerings he would not have, than thou shouldst have said; Lo, I come, to do thy will, O my God. Thou shouldst have presented thyself a living and a reasonable sacrifice; for without this, all others were no better then 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ignis pabulum, as the Pythagorean hath it; A sincere spirit that should have been 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Thou didst not make me to drink the fat of thy sacrifices. Well, but they stay not here; Thou hast made me to serve with thy sins, and thou hast wearied me with thine iniquities; thou hast made me to serve with thy sins; that's either  
1. Thou hast so abused my patience, and long sufferance; and has heaped sin upon sin, as if I had been a very servant, that was bound to endure all these thine iniquities; Or else  
2. It is a more prophetical passage looking upon Christ, who took upon him the form of a servant, and bore our sins in his body upon the tree; And thus the Septuagint.  
3. Thou hast made me to serve with thy sins, whilst thou dost these things under a show of strict holiness, and care of pleasing me, by virtue of my law in reference to my command; as a peculiar people that served an holy God, and had righteous laws; and yet while thou neglectedst the more weighty things that I require of thee, thou dost dishonour my Name, and wrong my Law, and degenerate from those noble Principles that I had planted in thee. For what will the Heathen say; that I am a God that delight in the blood of bulls and goats, and give thee liberty in other things to do what thou list? Thou hast made me to serve with thy sins. And consider what a strong indignity this is offered to the great God of Heaven and Earth to make him a servant, and then to serve sin which he so much hates and abhors, that he can't endure to look upon it, as that which strikes at his very being; Thou hast made me to serve with thy sins. And thou hast wearied me with thine iniquities; All outward performances though never so pompous, they do but weary Almighty God, unless they flow from a sincere spirit: They thought they had pleased him with sacrifices; but he tells them, they weary him with iniquities. And see here how the mighty God of Jacob, the Rock of ages; Omnipotency itself is weary; he is pressed with sins, and wearied with iniquities. Well, what follows upon all this? ay, even I am he that blot out thine iniquities for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins. Surely Israel could not look for this in the next verse. It must needs come in, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. One would have thought it should have been, I, even I am he, that will revenge these thine iniquities: Thou hast made me to serve with thy sins, and I'll make thee to serve with my plagues; Thou hast wearied me with thine iniquities, and I'll weary thee with my judgements: Mine indignation shall flame out against thee, and I'll pour out the dregs of my wrath upon thee; it is I, even I am he, that will set thy sins in order before thee. One would have thought it should have run thus; but God, he comes in the still voice, I, even I am he, that blot out thine iniquities. Thou hast made me to serve with thy sins, and I'll make thee a servant to myself: Thou hast wearied me with thine iniquities, and I'll load thee with my mercies: Thou hast blotted out my Testimonies, and I'll blot out thine iniquities: Thou hast not remembered my Covenant, and I'll not remember thy sins. Thus doth God's goodness contend with a sinful Nation, thus doth he conquer rebellion, and triumph over sin. Indeed his very drift is to make a glorious illustratiou of freegrace; and therefore he first discovers his people's sin, and then displays his own mercy. He first shows you Israel's stiff neck and iron sinew, and then opens his own tender bowels, and dearest compassions; He bids you take notice of the blackness of the Etheopian, and then tells you how white he will make him. He would have you consider well the deep dy, the bloody dy of the Scarlet, and then see it become as white as snow. Look upon the vastness of the Egyptians Army, and see them all drowned in a Red-Sea. Cast a sad eye upon a large volume of iniquity, and behold them all blotted out in a moment. The sinfulness of sin sets a glorious lustre upon freegrace; when sin becomes exceeding sinful, than grace becomes exceeding glorious. ay, even I am he, that blot out thine iniquities. There's much Emphasis in redoubling the words, and it stills many objections that might rise up in a wavering soul. And  
1. ay, even I, whom thou hast offended: For what might the distrusting soul object and say; Is it thou O God, that wilt blot out mine iniquities? It is thy sacred Majesty, which I have provoked; and 'tis thy glorious Name which I have profaned; 'tis thy righteous Law which I have violated; and 'tis thy Covenant which I have broken; and is it thou, G God, that wilt blot out mine iniquities? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'tis I, even I am he that blot them out for mine own sake. God's goodness runs over to a sinful creature; and where sin hath abounded, there grace doth superabound. Consider  
(1.) There is not so much evil in sin, as good in God. Sin indeed is thus infinite, as it is against an infinite being; I, but there is an absolute infiniteness in God. And this is no extenuation of sin to advance grace above it.  
(2.) There is not so much sin in man, as there is goodness in God. There is a vaster disproportion between sin and grace, then between a spark and an Ocean. Now who would doubt whether a spark could be quenched in an Ocean? Thy thoughts of disobedience towards God have been within the compass of time; but his goodness hath been bubbling up towards thee from all eternity. He hath had sweet plots of freegrace, and gracious contrivances of love towards thee from everlasting. The devils themselves though irreversibly sealed up to destruction; yet they are not so bad as God is good. There can't be a Summum malum, as there is a Summum bonum. ay, even I am he that blot out thine iniquities; even I whom thou hast thus offended.  
2. ay, even I, whose royal Prerogative it is to pardon transgression; and to blot out sin; for otherwise the soul would still be left rolling and fluctuating. ay, this were welcome news indeed to hear of iniquity blotted out, and they were Messengers of beautiful feet, that could bring me such Gospel-tidings; but O 'tis not so easy a matter to have sin remitted, and pardoning mercy is not so soon obtained: Who is it that can wash off guilt from the soul, and set at liberty a captivated Spirit? Why, 'tis God himself that undertakes so great a work; 'tis I, even I am he that blot out thine iniquities, and it includes these two particulars.  
(1.) God, he can blot out iniquities. For (first,) the offence is wholly against him, and therefore he can freely pass it by: Sin is so far an evil, as it opposes his will, the rule of Goodness, and as it prevaricates from his Law, the expression of his Will, and that the Supreme Lawgiver can pardon.  
(2.) Christ he hath made full satisfaction to his justice, so that now 'tis but dipping the pen in the blood of Christ, and dashing out of iniquity: Nay, Christ himself hath blotted out, even this hand-writing that was against us, and nailed it to his Cross. Christ on the Cross had a sponge given him dipped in Vinegar, and a Christians sins do incumbere in s●ongiam, that I may speak in Augustus his phrase. And hence there are such woo and beseechings of souls to come in and be subject to the Sceptre of Christ; for God hath more satisfaction to his justice by every Believer, then by the damned that lie roaring in hell to all eternity, for they are never able to discharge the debt; but every Believer by his surety hath paid the utmost farthing.  
2. Only God can blot out iniquities. ay, even I am he, and none else. A poor creature may soon involve itself in sin and misery, there is none but hath power enough to damn himself; Thy destruction is of thyself, O Ephraim. But 'tis beyond the sphere of men or Angels activity to blot out the least sin, or to disentangle the soul of the least corruption; they can neither take off the guilt of sin, nor yet subdue the power of sin. There's none but knows how to wound himself; I, but he must have skill that knows how to cure him; 'tis easy enough to run into debt, and many find it hard enough to discharge it: There's none but can heap up sin, and treasure up wrath, and wound conscience: I, but who is there that can appease wrath, and calm conscience, and screen a soul from a consuming fire? Sin is an offence against an infinite justice, so that infinite being can either dispense with it, or satisfy for it. It is not the blessed Virgin's milk can wash out so deep a stain, it is not this can whiten the soul; no, if the Saints Robes be washed white, it must be in the blood of the Lamb. And the power of the Keys can't reach thus far; A Minister can no more by any way of efficiency remit a sin, than he can create a world. And I know not what a Pope's indulgence should do, unless it be to send some ignorant people to hell with more cheerfulness and alacrity, that they may in Coelum descendere, as the Satirist said Nero did; when they look for heaven, drop into hell irrecoverably. The mighty hand of God himself must be put to the blotting out of iniquities; 'tis I, even I that blot out thy transgression, even I whose royal prerogative 'tis to pardon transgression, and to blot out sin.  
3. ay, even I that have manifested mine anger against thee, in punishing thee for thine iniquities; even I am he that will blot them out, for the soul will still be doubting and misgiving; why, 'tis thou, O God, that hast shot off so many threatenings against us, and spent all thine arrows upon us: Thou hast hewn us by thy Prophets, and slain us by the Words of thy mouth: Thou hast dipped thy Pen in gall, and writ bitter things against us: Thou hast followed us with an whole Army of judgements, and every way shown thyself an angry God against us; and wilt thou now blot out our iniquities? The Text hath the same answer ready for this too, 'Tis I, even I am he, that will blot them out; and it speaks these two things.  
(1.) God, he is not long angry. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as 'tis in the 54. of Isaiah, vers. 8. In a littl● wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer. God as he is not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, quickly provoked, so neither is he 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, long displeased. God is Love, saith the Apostle; now Love is hardly provoked, and 'tis quickly reconciled; God is Love. He writes not injuries in Marble, his Law indeed he writes in stone; I, but the breach of the Law, he writes that in the dust. All the wrong hath been done to him, and yet he beseeches us to be reconciled; he's far more ready to offer mercy, than the creature is to embrace it; and more willing to speak peace then man is to hear it. Where will you meet with a man so propense to put up a wrong, and so ambitious to forgive an injury? But as far as the heavens are above the earth; so far are his thoughts above our thoughts; He writes not our sins in so deep a character, but that they may be easily blotted out.  
(2.) God requires no more humiliation, then to bring a soul unto himself, and make it capable of mercy. Many a weak Christian questions his condition, because he hath not filled Gods bottles so full of tears as others; he hath not had such rendings of heart, such break and piercings of spirit, such scorching pre-apprehensions of hell, and wrath as others have had: I, but let such a one consider, that God is very gracious in his dealings, and we must not look for the like degrees of humiliation in all; some have a quicker delivery, and are sooner freed from the pangs of the new birth; some hearts are more wrought upon in a more winning and melting way; others are beat in pieces by a stroke of Omnipotency. But this we are sure, that soul's humbled enough that's brought to a sight and sense of his sin, so as to see the necessity of a Saviour; and to prise him, and love him as the fairest of ten thousand. When God hath made a soul to see his sins, he's ready then to blot them out; 'Tis I, even I am he that blot out thine iniquities; even I that have punished thee for them, and shown mine anger against them.  
I might add, that 'tis a note of God's complacency in his own goodness, he doth even glory in the riches of his free grace; and therefore 'tis so often repeated, I, even I am he, that will do it for mine own sake; but I hasten to the next words.  
Blot out thine iniquities,] There are many things wrapped up in this expression, I'll be more brief in them then to promise brevity. And  
(1.) Blotting out of iniquities, implies that they were all written, and took notice of.  
1. They were written in God's book▪ God, he is not only 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and knows all things; every idle word, every vain extravagant thought, every glance of the soul; the least tendency to sin, the first bubblings up of Original corruption, they are all took notice of; In his Book are all thine iniquities written.  
2. Thou hast a book within thine own breast, and Conscience hath the pen of a ready writer; it can write as fast as the soul can dictate. Calamum in cord tingit, and with an accurate pencil, it can give thee a full pourtraicture of thy most closeted behaviour, of thy most reserved actions, of thy most retired motions; and though there be a curtain drawn over them here, yet than they shall be made very apparent. God shall give conscience an Imprimatur, and such works as thou wouldst have suppressed, shall be published to the eyes of men and Angels, and the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 shall pass censure upon them; Sins of the smallest print, of the most indiscernible character, shall be made clearly legible, and become as Atoms in the presence of a Sun beam. With what a furious reflection wilt thou then read over thine own sinful life; when all thine iniquity shall stare thy soul in the face to all eternity? When as a Christians life shall be set out in a new Edition, Multò auctior & emendatior; for all Errata shall be corrected, and with an happy Index expurgatorius. Every iniquity shall have a Deleatur, and all Desiderata shall be supplied; the Book shall become perfect, and be looked on as a fair object to all eternity. This is the first thing implied in blotting out of iniquity, that they were all written and took notice of.  
(2.) Every transgression leaves a blot. For even remission of sins is expressed by blotting out of iniquity. Although the blot was here greater, before 'twas blotted out; for blotting out of iniquities, is the wiping out of a blot. Besides the guilt of sin, and the power of sin, there's the Macula peccati too; the stain of sin.  
(3.) You see here the nature of Justification, and how in it Remissio est imputativa; it doth not take away the being of sin, but takes it away from being imputed, and laid to the charge of the soul. Sins in Scripture- idiom are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: Now in justification there's a crossing of the Book, a blotting out of the debt, so as it can't be required of the soul. And the justified person in the 32. Psalm, is styled 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, one whose sin is covered, which supposes the being of it; and though our adversaries urge the force of the other phrase 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, one whose sin is took away; yet 'tis sufficiently cleared by the following words, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, God will not impute iniquity unto him; and 'tis rendered in the New-Testament by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which cannot be possibly meant of taking away the being of sin; for it is attributed to men, when they are bid to forgive one another their trespasses; now they can't forgive sin so. And they do merely wrangle, when they tell us that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signify putare and not imputare; for we deny not but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, signifies putare; but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, must needs be imputare; and so 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. as might appear by many instances, as the learned Chamier hath observed.  
4. Look upon the fullness of the discharge. The soul may rest satisfied, and roll itself upon the free grace of a God in Christ, and lay all the stress of its salvation upon it; the debt is blotted out, and 'twere injustice to ask it twice: And shall not the Judge of all the world do right?  
5. Consider the easiness of it. The hand was longer a writing, then 'tis a blotting out; the hand was wearier with writing, then 'tis with blotting out: I have blotted out thy transgressions as a thick▪ cloud, Isa. 44. 22. Now, how is a cloud blotted out? Nay indeed, what is a cloud but a blot upon Nature's fairest and well-flourished letter? A Sunbeam comes, rushes in upon't, wipes away the cloud. The Sun fights against it; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it raises a glorious army of beams▪ which quickly puts the enemy to flight, they scatter the cloud. And I'll blot out thy transgressions like a cloud. An act of grace, a beam of mercy shall blot out a whole cloud of transgressions; which otherwise would have proved a cloud of witnesses against the soul. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪  
6. Here's the extent of Remission, a great debt may be blotted out as well as a less; a great sum may be blotted out as well as a small one, though not so easily, though not so suddenly.  
7. This explains that, how God sees not iniquity in Jacob, nor sin in Israel: He looks upon his people as in state of grace, and reconciliation; now as the Arabic proverb pithily, Favoris oculus velut nox est ad omnem labem. He sees not iniquity in Jacob, for he sees it blotted out, he sees it covered; that he sees it not at all, makes Omniscience blind.  
Thine iniquities,] (1.) Thine, very heinous in their own nature, as the Prophets continually complain; it turns every Prophecy to a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Onerosa prophetia.  
(2.) More heinous, because thine. The sins of Israel pierce deeper, grieve God most: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; It was a notable speech of Cosmus Duke of Florence, I have read (saith he) that I must forgive mine enemies, but never that I must forgive my friends; The sins of God's friends, of his people provoke him most. Every sin is took notice of; I, but the sin of Judah is writ with a pen of iron, and the point of a Diamond, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with the claw of an Adamant. They are against beams of stronger light; against bowels of tenderer mercy, against nearer and sweeter relations, against greater expectation; God looked for grapes, and they bring forth wild grapes. Yet, I will blot out thine iniquities. Not only some of the less, and call thee to account for the greater; no, such as are the most deeply aggravated, the most frequently reiterated, thine iniquities indefinitely. God never blots out one iniquity, but he blots out all; Justificatio est simul & semel, and it doth extendere ad futura peccata. For  
1. It puts a man into a state of grace and reconciliation, and within the Covenant of Grace, so that his person and services are accepted.  
2. Suppose a man had all his sins remitted, and only one, the least retained; yet such a one were still 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a vessel fitted, and framed, and fashioned for destruction, seeing the guilt of the least sin binds over to eternal punishment.  
For mine own sake,] (1.) Exclusively, for nothing at all in you; as in that Twin-place, Ezek. 36. 22. There you have a clear comment upon the words; Thus saith the Lord God, I do not this for your sakes, faith the Lord God; but for mine holy Names sake, which ye have profaned amongst the Heathen. Mark under what notion it runs, for that holy Names sake which you have profaned. And in this Chapter we have in hand, in those Verses that are preparatory to the Text, we showed you how strangely Israel behaved themselves, vers. 22. Thou hast not called upon me O Jacob. Why, one would have thought that they might have opened the mouth for mercy, that they might at least have petitioned for grace; surely, 'twas worth the ask: No, but I was found of them that sought me not. The learned Chamier goes on, and shows how there is an exact removal of all such works as the Papists make satisfactory.  
(2.) For mine own sake, it includes for my Christ his sake, and that eternal Covenant of love and peace which I have founded in him. For God in himself is an holy, and a just God; and now by reason of sin, an offended and provoked God; and would quickly prove a punishing, and revenging God; did not a Jupiter 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 step in and assuage an angry Deity.  
(3.) For mine own sake, for my Names sake, and for mine Honour's sake; lest the Heathen triumph, and say, Where is now your God? O the infinite goodness of God, that by a most gracious and free act of his own will, hath knit and united his own glory, and the salvation of his people together! He hath wrought Israel's name in the frame of his own glory, so that now 'tis for his Honour's sake to save Israel; he blots out iniquities for his own sake. God will not suffer the lustre of his Crown to be dimmed and eclipsed; he will be sure that none of his Jewels shall fall off from it, 'Tis as impossible for Israel to perish, as for God to lose his glory.  
And will not remember thy sins,] The sinful soul is full of doubts and suspicions; Certainly saith he, if God should let me alone now, he will call me to acount for them hereafter; If he seem to blot them out now, he will write them again sometime or other. No saith God, I'll blot out thy transgressions, and will not remember thy sins. 'Tis an ordinary speech in the mouth of some silly ones, they will forgive, but never forget, it had need have a very candid construction, a grain of salt is scarce enough to make it savoury; but God never forgives, but he doth forget too; when he blots out iniquities, he remembers them no more. When the sins are laid upon the head of the scape-goat, they are then carried into a land of forgetfulness.  
I suppose you recall the usual rule; Verba Memoriae denotant affectum, & effectum: He will not remember them so as to call thee to account for them, so as to upbraid thee with them, so as any way to punish thee for them.  
Gild and punishmeat are correlates, such Twins as live and die together, when the one's remitted, the other's never retained. For  
1. 'Twere injustice to punish where there is no fault. God indeed may out of his absolute dominion and sovereignty, inflict an evil upon an innocent creature, but than it falls not under the formal notion of a punishment; and doth inflict evils upon his own people, which flow from a fatherly castigation, and not from a judicial proceeding.  
2. 'Tis against the very nature of remission. Do you call that forgiving of a debt, to cast a man into prison for not discharging it? or is that pardoning of a Traitor, to behead him for his treason?  
3. 'Tis injurious to the full satisfaction of Christ; who drunk up the whole cup, all the dregs of wrath, not a drop of that bitter cup left for a Christian; no 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 there; they do indeed pledge him, but 'tis in a sweeter draught, and not at all in satisfaction to divine justice. 'Tis an impious speech, and fit for the mouth that spoke it; worthy of a Jesuit, that calls Christians sufferings, Fimbrias meritorum Christi; but he may touch this hem of the Garment, and find no virtue coming out from it. Christ's Resurrection was a full and plain aquittance, a clear and apparent sign that iniquities were all blotted out.  
Quest. But doth not God revive former sins, and reprint such iniquities as he hath once blotted out?  
Answ. He doth indeed, but in abundance of love and bowels of free grace: not as an angry and revenging God; but 'tis to make thy tepentance for them, more deep and serious. And though God remember them no more; yet there's good reason that the soul should still remember them, (First) to make it more thankful to him that he blotted them out. (Secondly) to walk more humbly. (Thirdly) more watchfully and accurately, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

Observe.  And thus we have took a brief survey of the Text; we'll now strain the quintessence of all into one observation. Justifying grace, is free grace; He blots out iniquities for his own sake: Every justified person is a monument of free grace, or in the Psalmists language; he's crowned with loving kindness and tender mercies.  
The grace of God is free grace; and that  
First, If you look to the Spring from whence it flows: That Original goodness, that fountain-mercy in Election, when he singled out a peculiar people to himself; there were beamings out of his love, and blossomings of his grace towards thee from everlasting; He was plotting and studying thy happiness, long before thou hadst any being. Thou wert God's Jewel from all eternity, his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; he casts a propitious glance upon thee, And thy time was the time of love; He took thee as the Jewel out of the rubbish of ruinated mankind, out of the Massa corrupta, and in his due time he means to polish thee, and to set a glorious lustre upon thee. Now what was there that God should smile on Jacob, and frown on Esau from all eternity? What was there in thee to persuade him to all this? What were the motives? Where were the arguments? What was the Rhetoric?  
1. It was long before thou hadst any being, thou wert hid in the barren womb of nothing; thou hadst no desire, no thought of happiness, and I can't well understand the merit of a nonentity.  
2. God might have had great revenues of glory out of thy eternal ruin; now that he should choose to glorify the riches of his mercy in thy happiness and salvation, was most free grace. Two books were before him, he might have writ thy name in his black book, with fatal and bloody characters, and made his justice glorious in thy misery and damnation; I, but he took the book of life, and with the point of a Diamond writ thy name there, thus to make his love wonderful in thy salvation.  
3. Consider how few God than chose unto himself. Out of those many worlds which he might have made, out of that which he did make; he picked out a few here and there, they all make up but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a little diminutive flock, a little, little flock, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The major part of the world 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it lies drenched and drowned in wickedness. How comes it now that thou dost not go with the generality; but art one of the little number, is not this free grace? God hath riches of grace for many more, and yet he would spend it all upon a few; he would contract and concentricate his love in them, Et quantò pauciores filios habet, tantò cariores. 'Tis St Paul's reason, that he might make known the riches of glory upon the vessels of honour; this was the very end, that they might admire his goodness the more, and tell stories of free grace to all eternity.  
4. Don't think that this was out of any prevision of worth and excellency in thee more than in another. For  
1. This makes the prime wheeling cause wholly dependent upon inferior movers. The great Creator of Heaven and Earth, must wait upon man's liberum arbitrium; if the creature please to determine thus or thus, than he must copy out his decree accordingly.  
2. They speak as if they had never seen the nineth to the Romans. What was it that prevailed with the Potter, to make one vessel to honour, and the other to dishonour? Was it because this was the more refined Earth, and so fitter for a vessel of Honour? No saith St. Paul, of the very same lump, he made one a vessel to honour, and the other to dishonour. And God loved Jacob, and hated Esau, before they had done either good or evil; Now if Jacob would certainly have done good of his own accord, 'twas all one as if 'twere done already in respect of Eternity, all things being equally present to that.  
3. This takes away all method, and order of prosecution, for the end is always in intention before the means. God first resolves to save Jacob, and then provides means accordingly.  
4. It quite demolisheth the goodly and fair structure of grace; no discriminating grace, 'tis no longer for his own sake, but for your sakes now. A man now makes himself to differ, free will must be set on the throne, 'tis a Roman and must not be bound; and free grace must lie at the footstool▪ and be trampled on as they please. But all they that know what grace is, and have had any gracious impressions upon their own spirits, will easily tell you who 'twas that made them differ, even he who chose them; not because they were any better than others, but he chose them, and so would be sure to make them better; and if they be lovely, it is with the comeliness which he hath put upon them. Grace is free if you look to the fountain of it, the primitive goodness of God in election, bubbling out from all Eternity.  
Secondly, If you look to the several streamings out of the fountain, you must admire the riches of free grace: For  
1. God's giving of his only Son, and founding and eternal Covenant of love and peace in him; the richest and preciousest stream that ever flowed to the sons of men. Now if there were an assembly of those bright and intelligent creatures gathered together, the most glorious Cherubims and glittering Seraphims, and if this mystery which they now pry into, were fully unsealed, and explained unto them; O how would they stand gazing upon the riches of free grace, how would they think eternity itself too short for the admiring of it; and what could they resolve it into but mere love. God so loved the world, so freely, so fully, so unconceivably, that he gave his only Son, etc. What was there in thee to draw a Saviour down from heaven? was there such an attractive and magnetical virtue in an undone and bankrupted creature? How didst thou persuade him to disrobe himself of light, as of a garment, to cloud and eclipse the lustre of his Divinity, by the interposition of a pale mortal body! What was it that moved him to take upon him the seed of Abraham, and not the nature of Angels, to let pass those fair and eminent beings, and to advance a poor crawling worm! Out of what Topics didst thou fetch an argument that prevailed with him, to espouse thee to himself in mercy and truth, and so to love thee as to die for thee? I know they thoughts are swallowed up with the consideration of so boundless and bottomless a love, and desire some time for astonishment.  
2. What should I tell you of those free expressions and manifestations of this his love; those fresh eruptions and ebullitions of it in the Gospel? I mean those precious promises, that are so many several sproutings and branchings out of the Covenant. The Gospel's like a sweet and precious honeycomb, these are the several droppings of it, that flow freely from it. Indeed the whole Gospel like the midst of Solomon's bed in the Canticles, is paved with love.  
3. Think upon those free offers of grace, and tenders of reconciliation; how he woes you to receive mercy, how he beseeches you to be happy, how he entreats you to be saved, to accept of him and of heaven, of grace and of glory. So that if you look to the streamings out of the fountain; you see they all carry with them the riches of grace.  
Thirdly, Consider the several conveyances of it; how God diffuses this his goodness to thy soul; and thou shalt see how thou hast lived upon the expenses of free grace all thy days. And for this, observe how he tuned all circumstances in a sweet and harmonious way, so as they did all sweetly agree and consort in thy happiness; and how all providential passages did join for thee, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, work together for thy good: As  
1. 'Twas out of the riches of free grace, that he planted thee in a place of light, when he shut up and imprisoned the rest of the world in palpable darkness. The Gospel shines out but upon a little spot of ground which God hath enclosed for himself, and styles it his Garden. Paul plants it▪ and Apollo's waters it, and he himself gives it an increase: The rest of the world lies like a barren and desolate wilderness, the word of the Gospel never dropped upon it; nothing but briers and thorns fit for the fire. Now, how fell thy lot in so fair a ground; and who is it that gives thee so goodly an heritage? Who is it that shines thus upon thy Tabernacle, and fixes it in a land that flows with milk and honey? Give a reason if thou canst, why thou wert not placed in some obscure corner of America, and left only to the weak and glimmering light of nature? Prithee, tell me who that was that opened for thee so many wells of salvation, and feasted thee with all those spiritual dainties and delicacies that are disht out in variety of Ordinances? I would fain know who that was that crushed the honeycomb on purpose, that it might drop upon thy soul? Prithee, tell me, if thou canst, who that was that bespoke a place for thee in the Church, among the assembly of the Saints? Hath God dealt so with every Nation, or have the Heathen knowledge of this Law? Ascribe this then to free grace.  
2. That salvation should wait upon thee so long, and when thou hadst repulsed so many rich offers of grace and mercy; that still it should be importunate with thee: If mercy had knocked once or twice, nay according to the rule, Si ter pulsanti, &c.; if it had then bid thy soul farewell, thou hadst dropped into hell irrecoverably. How many years hath free grace stood at the door, and begged for some admission, and thou hast not so much as bid it welcome? Free grace follows thee and pursues thee, and will not let thee go till thou hast a blessing. Would any friend have given thee so many invitations after thou hast rejected them? Are there not many of the damned that must lie roaring there to all eternity, that never tasted of so much goodness, and longsufferance as thou hast done? O, why wert not thou sent thither amongst the rest? that that Spirit which thou hast so much grieved, and so often vexed, should still breathe upon thee, and follow thee with secret whisper, and gentle solicitations to entice and allure thee to goodness; what canst thou call this but free grace?  
3. Consider in what state thou wert all the while; and Enemy, a Rebel, studying how to be damned; galloping to hell and destruction with full career, a scholars pace: who was't now that stopped thee in thy course? who bridled in the proud waves and said, Hither ye shall go, and no further? Saul when he is breathing out of slaughters, and making havoc of the Church, even than he becomes a Paul. When the soul is even ripe for judgement, than mercy shines out upon it. And that which would seem the most reasonable time for vengeance, is made a blessed opportunity of showing mercy.  
4. Consider the efficacious and overpowering work of grace; he must force thee to be happy, and necessitate thee to salvation, and compel thee to come in. It is not enough to provide the means, but he must strongly apply them; unless the arm of the Lord be revealed, there's none will believe our report. It may be thou cam'st occasionally to hear a Sermon; well, God hath the two-edged sword in his own hand; he brandished the glittering sword, he fought against thee, he wounded thee, and frighted thee out of thy sins. Well, thou goest away with groans, and sighs, and tears; like a Hart stuck with an arrow, panting and breathing, and fain wouldst have some refreshment; Ere long, he met with a faithful Messenger, and sent thee some balm from Gilead; he began to let in some of his love to thy soul, and to cheer thee with Gospel-cordials; and were not they all bought with the riches of free grace? Or it may be, thou cam'st into a Church with a mind, to smile at Religion, to laugh at Goodness, to mock at Piety; or else to guess the best, thou cam'st for flowers and not for fruit, to crop an Elegancy, to take acquaintance of a Notion, or a fine expression; as he once to hear an eloquent Ambrose. Thou cam'st for a bait, but mettest with an hook, and 'twas happy for thee that thou wert so caught; Thou thought'st only to see the flourishing of the sword, but thou feltst the edge of it, and 'twas well for thee that thou wert so wounded.  
5. Remember the manner how he thus wrought upon thee; it may be 'twas with softer and gentler impressions, in a winning, in a melting way; he drew thee with the cords of a man, and sweetly dissolved thy stony heart. 'Tis true, the Law had its work, and struck thee with the flaming edge of a curse, but the Gospel presently brought oil and poured it into the wounded spirit. The love of Christ was the powerful Suada; Heavens Rhetoric; there was Demosthenes his double Deity in it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it constrained thee to obedience: And was it not mercy to be dealt withal in so mild a way? Well, but what if thou wert a more knotty and obdurate piece, and 'twas not a little matter would tame thy unruly spirit? God came in a more victorious and triumphant manner, and led captivity captive, when he gave gifts unto thy soul: He was fain to batter down strong holds, and bring to the ground towering imaginations. Thou hadst a rocky and flinty spirit, and was not his word an hammer? did not he take it into his own hand? he smote the stony rock indeed, so as the waters gushed out: Well, and had he no bowels all the while? was it not abundance of mercy to take pains with such an obstinate sinner? Refer it you to what you will, we'll put it under the head of free grace.  
6. Think upon those mountains of opposition that were beaten down, when this goodly fabric of the Temple went up with the shoutings and acclamations of free grace. The strong man was dispossessed, all the plots and stratagems of Satan were frustrated. God crushed his designs, and blasted his enterprises, and broke his snares, and rescued thee out of the paw of the Lion. 'Twas much love and grace to set a silly bird out of the snare, to ransom a poor captive, to break the chain, and beat off the irons, to disentangle a soul, and set it at liberty. And then he armed thee against the disgraces and frowns of the world, and fortified thee against the smiles and blandishments of the world, and carried thee against the potent stream of examples, which all ran another way; free grace hid thy soul under the shadow of its wings.  
7. Hast thou not fresh supplies of free grace flowing in continually upon thy soul, and maintaining it to all eternity? If God in this new creation had given thee, as he did at the first, a stock of grace, and left it to thine own improvement, thou wouldst have spent it immediately; Thou hast somewhat of free grace, every moment of thy spiritual being. God feeds and preserves the humidum radical of the soul, or else 'twould quickly waste away. He sends thee in rich influences and Auxiliary forces, and keeps thee by his mighty power through faith unto salvation. And this is no small work of grace; Conservatio, you know, 'tis continuata creatio.  
8. Compare thyself with those that have had none of all this kindness shown unto them, such as God hath left to themselves in the severity of his justice, and this will set a goodly gloss upon free grace.  
1. Many of them are such as have improved their present strength far better. Many Heathens have lived more accurately and exactly then some Christians in their unregenerate condition, and yet one out of all ordinary possibility of salvation, and the others efficaciously called. He may do with his own what he will, and he hath mercy on whom he will have mercy. Thus Publicans are before Pharisees and swelling Justiciaries; that free grace may be more apparent and conspicuous.  
2. Some have desired more strength, and in their way prayed for it too, and it may be have had the prayers of others too, and yet have gone without it; but thou hast not called upon me, O Jacob; I was found of thee, when thou soughtest me not.  
3. He passed by men of most admirable endowments, most rare accomplishments; that in all probability would have done him a great deal more honourable service, than thou art like to do. Would not an Aristotle have made a glorious convert, and filled the world as full of Divinity as he did of Philosophy? but God passeth by these stately Cedars of Lebanon, and chooseth a few contemptible Shrubs, and this is the good will of him that dwelled in the bush; he hath chosen the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the mere non-entia of the world, to bring to naught the things that are.  
So, that if thou look to the fountain, or the streams, or the conveyances, you meet with nothing but free grace.  
Fourthly, I might draw an head of arguments, à Minori ad Majus, common and restraining grace is free grace, how much more justifying and saving grace, that one is not so bad as another is mere grace, etc.  
This truth is full of Use: Richly laden with fruit, if we had time to gather it; I'll but point at it.  

Use.  Use. Let none dare to abuse the grace of God; to still malignant and venomous consequences out of so sweet and flowery a truth. C●m gratia Dei sit mellea, ne comedas eam totam. There's none but love to hear of free grace; O this is a soft and downy Doctrine, a silken Truth: O 'tis a gentle breath that fans the soul, and gives it sweet refreshment. O 'tis a pleasant thing to sit under the shadow of free grace, and see God's goodness streaming out before thee! But take heed who e'er thou art, of turning this grace of God into wantonness; and know, that 'tis free grace in another sense too, God may take't away when he pleaseth, thou knowst not which is the last offer: Believe it, he that neglects this very present offer, venter's eternity. And know withal, that as there are more liberal aspersions of grace in time of the Gospel, so there are larger viols of wrath too. Vinegar you know 'tis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 filius vini, and the sweetest wine degenerates into the sharpest vinegar. Grace abused, turns to fury. What, to sin against God; because he is good? therefore to offend him, because he is merciful? to multiply iniquities, because he blots them out for his own sake? To kick against bowels of mercy, and to rebel against the golden Sceptre, when 'tis stretched out, and motions of reconciliation propounded? truly this will be the very sting of hell, the Emphasis of damnation, this will heat the furnace seven times hotter; 'twill teach the worm that never dies to gnaw more cruelly, and put new stings into the eternal scorpions; 'twill prepare flaming ingredients for the cup of wrath, and fill it up to the very brim. O how fain wouldst thou then change places in hell with a Turk or an Infidel, and be ambitious of ordinary damnation. But truly there is no stronger argument against sin to an ingenuous spirit, then free grace. Because God is so prone to pardon, therefore the soul is so loath to displease.   

THE Child's Return.  PROV. 23. 26. 
My Son, give me thine heart.  
THere have been such noble, and generous spirits in some of the people of God, as that they have been frequent in such inquiries as these: What shall we render the Lord for all his mercies? And, what shall we return him for all his goodness? And he in the Prophet Micah (though he be of a different temper from these) yet he seemeth to be very solicitous, and desirous to know what he should bring unto the Lord. For thus you may hear him speak in the 6th of Micah: Wherewithal (says he) shall I appear before the Lord? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of Rams, & c.? No, saith the Prophet; He hath showed thee, O man, what is good, and what doth the Lord require of thee, but that thou shouldst do justly, etc. He hath showed thee, O man, what is good, and what doth the Lord require of thee, but that thou shouldst give him thine heart, and that thou shouldst love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength. And therefore he here asks it of thee. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, My Son, give me thine heart.  
These words are spoken by Solomon, but not in his own Name. It had been too much for Solomon to have asked it for himself. It doth not become the mouth of any Creature to ask the heart to itself. But Solomon speaks it in the name of Wisdom, and so in the name of God himself, the eternal fountain of Wisdom. It is he that calls unto the sons of men, and bids them to give him their hearts.  
And though I know that the Hebrew Idiom sometimes by giving the heart, doth imply no more, than the serious consideration, and pondering of a thing, the laying it to heart, as we use to speak; yet I shall take the words here in a fuller sense, as the heart in a special manner is due unto God.  
Now as in Proverbial speeches there useth to be, so it is here. There is abundance of rich variety, a great deal of Treasure locked up in a few words; we will open some of them to you. And  
I. For the Relation, My Son. Five things are very considerable.  
1. He speaks here to a Son, and to not a Stranger. No wonder that Strangers give not the heart unto God; no wonder that a Pagan gives not the heart unto God. Such as are aliens from the Commonwealth of Israel, and Strangers to the Covenant of grace. Such as are at a great distance from him; nay, that live without God in the World; such as lie like the dry heath, and the barren wilderness, the word of the Kingdom never dropped upon them: but thou art a Son in near relation to him; He reveals his mind to thee; he manifests, and displays himself to thee; he makes his goodness pass before thee. Thou hast the continual droppings of the word upon thee; his Prophets are sent to thee early, and late; thou hast the happy Sunshine of his presence with thee, enough to warm, and soften a stony heart; and out of such stones to raise up children unto Abraham. Though an Indian, though an American do not give the heart unto God; yet a Christian should. Though a Stranger do not give him the heart; yet a Son should.  
2. A Son, and not an Enemy. God doth not expect the hearts of Enemies; such as are in open hostility, and opposition against him; such as are said to be haters of him, and hated by him; such as bid him depart from them, for they not desire the knowledge of his ways: he doth not look for the hearts of these. He doth indeed many times turn the heart of an Enemy, meet the heart of a Saul, while he is breathing out slaughters against the Church: but whilst he is in a state of enmity, he doth not look for the heart from them. Nay, if an Enemy could give the heart unto God, it would not be accepted by him. He will not accept of a Traitor's heart. But thou art reconciled to him, so far from being an Enemy, as that thou art a Son. Thou hast all expressions of love from him: and thine heart it is expected by him, and it will be accepted of him. Though an Enemy do not give the heart unto God; yet a Son should.  
3. A Son, and not a Slave. A Slave doth a great deal of work, and drudgery, more work than a Son; but he doth not give the heart all the while. He works out of fear, he looks upon it as a task, as a burden; he watches an opportunity for shaking off the yoke. But now Religion doth not come thus to enslave men, but to enlarge them, to ennoble them; it comes to beat off the chains, and fetters, to beat open the Prison doors; it brings a perpetual Jubilee, a perpetual Triumph along with it. Religion it floweth out of filial principles: My Son, hear my words; and My Son, give me thine heart. If the Son make you free, why then you are free indeed; and if you be free like Sons, why then you are free indeed. The Gospel brings with it a filial Liberty, a filial Plerophory; an Evangelical yoke is a soft, and pleasant yoke; a Saviour's burden is onus alarm, it does no more load the soul, than wings do a bird, which advance and promote its flight toward heaven. In Sin there is nothing but slavery; in Religion there is perfect Liberty. Though a Slave do not give the heart unto God; yet a Son should.  
4. A Son, Non sic olim. Thou wert not always so. There was a time when ye were Sons of wrath, as well as others; children of disobedience, as well as others. Adopted Sons, were not always Sons; now the Sons of God, are sons by Adoption. And let it suffice you (saith the Apostle) that in those former times of your ignorance, of your folly, and vanity▪ that then you gave your hearts unto other objects; but now that you are come into a state of Sonship, now that ye have this great, and honourable Gospel-priviledge, to be called a Son of God; now withdraw your hearts from former objects. Let them not be bestowed upon former vanities, do not embase them so much; fix them only upon your God. Though once thou didst not give thy heart unto God; yet now thou art a Son, thou shouldst.  
5. A Son; and so in way of mutual affection, thou art to give the heart unto him. He hath given thee his love, and his heart, and his bowels are towards thee; and wilt not thou return some affection to him again? Relations they consist in a mutual 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in a graceful and reciprocal respect which they have one to another. Is there the love of a Father in him, and shall not there be the obedience of a Son in thee? Is there a flame in him, and is there no spark in thee? Is there no reflecting of a Sunbeam? Is there no repairing of the streams into the Ocean? As Bathsh●ba speaks very affectionately to her Son Solomon: What my Son? and what the Son of my Womb? and what the Son of my Vows? Wilt thou give thy strongth unto Women? So here. What my Son? and what the Son of my loves? and what the Son of my hopes? Wilt thou give thine heart unto another? Wilt thou give thy strength unto a Creature? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, wilt thou thus dishonour, and provoke thy God? Cor it is magn●s Cordis; If love will not draw thee, what will? and if a preventing love will not prevail upon thee, what love will? And if God have not the hearts of Sons where shall he have any hearts to praise him? Who will admire him, and adore him, if his Sons will not? And then he hath given thee his only Son, he hath given thee a Saviour, that hath given his heart to thee, that hath given his life for thee, that had his heart pierced through for thy sake; and is there no attractive power in all this? That is the fifth thing, thou art a Son, and so in way of gratitude, and mutual affection thou art to give thine heart to him.  
II. The Manner of yielding up the heart unto God, which is here expressed by way of giving; which includes several things in it.  
1. Give it Cheerfully. God loves a cheerful giver. Religion should be full of alacrity; it doth not come to extort the heart, to hale men to obedience, but to lead them by a sweet, and easy manuduction; it doth not rapere Cor, but allicere▪ It doth not storm the Castle, but hath it fairly yielded up upon terms of agreement. That efficacious work of grace in conversion, doth indeed overpower the hearts of men; but it is by making them willing, not by drawing them whilst they are unwilling; but it takes away that Nolence, and reluctancy that is in the hearts of men, and thus compels them to come in. What freer than a Gift? Now the heart it is to be given unto God. The Will hath never more freedom, then when it moves towards God. And those heavenly duties, and spiritual performances are to flow freely from the soul, like those voluntary drops, that come sweeting from the Honeycomb of its own accord, without any pressing, without any crushing at all. It is only the dregs of Obedience, that comes forth with squeezing, and wring. The better any thing is, the more freely doth it diffuse itself. There should be no need now of binding the sacrifice with cords unto the Altar, unless it be with the cords of love; those soft and silken knots of affection. Cheerfulness puts a gloss, and lustre upon Religion, and makes it amiable, even in the eyes of the world. And truly I cannot tell how any one can give the heart to God, unless he serve him with alacrity.  
2. Give it presently. You know, Bis dat, qui citò dat. Give it him now, he calls for it; it must be donum hodiernum. Now that it is called to day, harden not your hearts. Give him a tender hear● Vdum, & molle lutum es. Now give thine heart to be framed, and fashioned by him; to be stamped, and sealed by him. Da primitia● Cordis. Give him the first fruits of thy time, the first fruits of thy strength: He is the Alpha, the first of beings; and therefore whatsoever hath any priority, and superiority belongs to him. And truly Grace it is very sweet, and pleasant in the bud 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. O how pleasant is it to see a Virgin-light, a Morning-light of education shining out upon the soul, and in some measure preparing, and predisposing the heart for the ways of God. O this is an happy prejudice, an early prepossession of the soul. And this is that which the wise Man here intends, when he speaks to a Son▪ to one of tender age. And do but consider it; can you give your heart unto God too soon? Why shouldst thou defer thine own welfare? or is it comely then to offer thine heart unto God, when thou canst give it to none else? Da ●lorem, nonfacem Give it presently.  
3. Give it, do not lend it only. In giving there is an alteration of the propriety, which is not in lending. When thou hast given thine heart unto God, thou art no longer thine own then. There are some that will lend their hearts unto God, upon some special occasions, for an hour at a Sermon, for a little while in prayer; lend it him upon a Lord's day, upon a day of Humiliation, and then call for the heart again, and bestow it upon their lusts. But so great a Majesty will not borrow of Creatures; he will not receive hearts, unless they be wholly given to him.  
4. Give it, do not sell it. 'Tis very sordid, and odious to be hirelings in Religion. They sell their hearts unto God, that serve him only for byends, and self-respects. This is Donum Hamatum, a gift with an hook in it; they give somewhat, that they may catch more. They sell their hearts unto God for some temporal ends. Hence it is, that the Church hath so many friends in prosperous days. There are many that sell their hearts unto God. You know in the Gospel, there were some that followed Christ for the Loaves, and not for the Miracles. There are some that love the Additionals in Religion, more than the Principals. Success, and Victories are the only Arguments to convince some of the rightness of a Cause. Esteem of men, worldly advantages, and accommodations; these make many men take a little tincture of Religion, who otherwise would not have so much as a show of it. Whereas Religion should be loved for her beauty, and not for her dowry. God should be loved for those excellencies, and transcendencies that are in himself; for those treasures of goodness, and wisdom, that are stored up in his own glorious Essence. Thou shouldst love him, though he did not love thee again. Why shouldst not thou love a thing truly amiable, though thou hast no benefit by it? For thy happiness is but an inferior, and secondary thing, and is not to have so much of thine heart as he is to have. Thou art only to love thyself, as thou art somewhat of him; thou art to love Heaven▪ as the enjoyment of him; thou art to love the Gospel, as the great expression of his love, and all the promises of the right hand, and the left, as the various manifestations of his goodness. Thou art first to give thine heart unto thy God, and then to other things in such measure, and proportion as they are subordinate to him.  
5. Give thine heart, do not keep it to thyself. Wouldst thou be trusted with thine own heart? Wouldst thou be left to thine own deceitful spirit? The best upon earth may very well put up that prayer; Domine, libera me á malo homine m●ipso. Lay up thine heart in the hand of a Saviour. Leave it there as a sacred depositum. Canst thou lay up thy Jewel in a safer Cabinet? Let him keep thine heart by his mighty power through faith unto falvation,  
6. Give it. God is pleased to call that a Gift, which is indeed a Debt: All thy Esse, and thy Posse and thy Possidere is due to him, yet that thy heart may come in a way of freeness, and that he may show thee, how it is accepted by him; he calls it a Gift, such a gift as does enrich the Giver, not the Receiver. It is an honour to thee, 'tis no benefit to him; His glory doth not shine with borrowed beams: 'Tis neither in the power of a Creature to eclipse the brightness of his Crown, nor to add one spark to it. If thou dost ill, what hurt hath he by it? or if thou dost well, what good flows unto him? any otherwise then as he hath joined his own glory, and the welfare of his People together. Thy goodness may profit thyself, and it may extend to men like thyself, but it can make no additions to that which is already perfect. Thy heart is due to him, and 'tis thine honour that thou mayst give it him.  
III. To whom the heart must be given.  
1. Not to any created being. No creature can be a centre for the heart to fix in. The heart was not made for any creature, nor proportioned to it. Wilt thou set thine heart upon that which is not? Wilt thou give thine heart to vanity, and vexation? Wilt thou set thine heart upon that which hath wings, and can fly away when it listeth? Riches have wings; honours, and pleasures have wings, all creature-comforts have wings, and can fly away when they please. And therefore  
2. Give not thine heart to the world. Give it not to the smiles, and blandishments of the world: Let it not be broken with the frowns, and injuries of the world: Let not your hearts be troubled, (saith Christ) for I have overcome the world. And be not over-careful for the things of the world; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a Pythagorean would render it, Cor ne edite.  
3. Give it not to Satan. The Devil that old Serpent would fain be winding, and insinuating into hearts; he seeks them, and desires, and would feign by any means obtain them; and we see how many give their hearts unto him. But what, wilt thou give thy Darling to the Lion? Wilt thou give thy Turtle as a prey to the Devourer? wilt thou give thine heart to the Destroyer?  
4. Give it not to Sin, to Lust. Give it not to a Dalilah. To give it to sin, is to give it to a Privation, to a Nonentity. Give not thine heart to that which will weaken it; to that, that will defile it; to that, that will wound it; to that, that will sting, and disquiet it. O! keep it calm, and serene; keep it pure, and unspotted; keep it in its proper freedom, and enlargement.  
IV. We come to consider the gift itself, what it is that is to be given unto God: The heart,  
1. Not thine outward man only, not thy body only. God dwells not so much in these Temples made with hands, as in broken, and contrite Spirits. For he himself is a Spirit, and the Father of Spirits, and he will be served in Spirit, and Truth. He does not ask for a shell, but for a kernel: He does not ask for a Casket, but for a Jewel. Give him the kernel, give him the Jewel, give him thine heart. No question, but the body also is to be presented to him, but it is no otherwise accepted of him, then as it is animated, and enlivened by an obedient heart. For how else can it be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the Apostle there calls it. Give me thine heart, (1.) Not thine ear only. Though it be very commendable to incline an ear unto Wisdom, and to receive the gracious words that flow from its mouth; yet the ear is only to be a gate, and entrance to let it into the heart, and to hear in Scripture-Language is to obey. The word of God must not hang like a Jewel only in the ear, but it must be cabinetted, and locked up in the heart as its safest repository. (2) Not thy tongue only. Religion is not only to warm thy mouth▪ but 'tis to melt the heart; it does indeed season the discourse, so as savoury words come out of such a mouth. It does set a watch before the lips, and bridle that same unruly evil; but can you think that it reacheth no farther than thus? Can you think that Religion dwells here? Is it only a Lip-labour, only a matter of discourse? Nay, are there not many that draw near unto God with their lips, and yet their hearts are far from him? (3.) Not thine head only. Religion 'tis not a mere notion, it doth not consist only in speculatives. You see many times that men of the vastest Intellectuals, are most defective in Practicals. Who of the heads of the world believed in Christ? Who of the Scribes and Pharisees believed in him? There may be precious pearly truth's in a venomous head. And indeed the head can never be given unto God, till the heart be given him also.  
2. The heart: not appearances not only: Not a surface, not a colour, not a shadow only; but a Reality. God is a pure Act, pure Entity, and Reality; and therefore Appearances, that do merely pretend to entity, must needs be very remote from him. And this is the weakness of Superstition, it gives him only a compliment, a ceremovy. They tell him, they are his servants. What more ordinary compliment in the mouths of men? they give him outward adoration; they bow the knee to Christ, and so did they that crucified him: What do you do more than they? And this is the vanity of Popery, it does not give God the heart. That spiritual Jezabel gives him only a painted face, she does not give him the heart. She is clothed in Scarlet; but she embraces a Dunghill. She puts on an outward meretricious bravery; but within there is nothing but rottenness. But the Spouse of Christ is all glorious within. When the shadows are multiplied, God called for the heart then in the times of the Law; much more now in the times of the Gospel.  
3. The heart, the whole heart. Not a piece of it, not a corner of it only. The true Mother would not have the Child divided. God indeed loves a broken, and a Contrite heart; but he won't accept of a divided heart. This is that Royal Law, the great commandment: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart: 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   
But the Devil observes the other rule: Divide, & impera: He would seem to be very moderate, to be content with a piece of the heart only; but 'tis because he knows by this means he shall have all. For God won't have any of it unless he have it entire. And this is one great happiness, that comes by Religion; the heart is thus united, and fixed upon one supreme object. Lusts, they do divide the heart, and distract it:— duplici in diversum scinderis hamo (as the Satirist speaks very elegantly). The soul does as it were, by't at two baits at once, and is caught with two several hooks; this pulls that way, and that pulls another way. Pride calls for this thing; but Covetousness forbids it: which must needs breed a great confusion▪ and tumultuation in the soul. But when the heart is given unto God, and yields to his Sceptre, than other Lords shall no longer rule over it. When a Saviour comes into the soul, the winds, and thestormes, and the waves obey him.  
4. Give thine Heart; that is, all the powers and faculties of thy soul. Give him thine understanding; set open the windows of thy soul, for the entertaining of such Light as shines from Heaven. Give thine understanding to be informed by him, to be captivated by him: Give it as wax to the Seal, to receive such stamps, and impressions, as he is pleased to put upon it. Give him thy will, that which glories so much in its own liberty, let it be subject to him. Give him thine affections, those ebbings, and flow of the heart; Fluxus, & refluxed Cordis: Let thy joy be in him; let thy trust and confidence be upon him; Let all that is withiu thee, bless his holy Name.  
And thus we have run over the words in a way of Explication, and we shall give you the sum of all in one Observation. That 
The Heart is to be consecrated unto God.   
I. Because 'tis due to him. Look upon the Heart, see whose Image and Superscription it hath: if the Image of God be upon it, (as sure you cannot but see that, though it be much defaced) Give then unto God the things that are Gods. If thou wilt not give men their due, yet sure thou wilt not withhold from him his due. It is due unto him upon a fourfold account.  
1. As he is the Maker of Hearts; the Creator of them. All the strength of created beings is due to him; and the nobler any being is, the more strongly it is engaged to him; for it hath received the more from him. Now the heart of man it is a chief piece of God's workmanship, 'tis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: 'tis due to him, as it was made by him, and 'twas made upon this condition, that it should return to him.  
2. As he is the Lord, and ●ul●r of Hearts; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. His Throne 'tis in the hearts of men, and 'tis he only, that hath Dominion, and Sovereignty over them. It is the great usurpation of Popery, that it would tyrannize over the hearts of men. That proud Antichrist would sit in the Temple of God: but there is none Lord of the Conscience, but God alone. And he can frame them, and fashion them, and dispose of them as he pleaseth▪ He can rule those hearts that are most large, and unlimited, and unrestrained. The hearts of Princes he can wind them, which way he will, even as the Rivers of waters.  
3. As he is the Judge, and searcher of hearts. We only can see the outward surface, and appearance of things, as the Optics say, Solae superficies videntur: but God he sees into the depth and bottom of things. We look only to the fruit, and branches▪ but he searcheth to the Root, and foundation.  
4. As he is Sponsus Cordis: 'Tis the Prophet Hosea'● expression, I have espoused thee to myself in mercy, and goodness, and faithfulness; so that it is an Adulterous heart that now goes after creatures: Ye Adulterers, (says the Apostle) know ye not that the love of the World is enmity against God? And the Apostle speaks of presenting Virgin-hearts unto Christ.  
II. 'Tis very pleasing, and acceptable to him. For  
1. He asks it of thee. He knocks at the door, he woos thine heart, and invites it to himself; and what is the whole mind of the Gospel, but to draw hearts unto God with all Arguments of love?  
2. 'Tis thy Totum posse. Now saith the Apostle, he accepts according to what a man hath. Thou thus castest all thou hast into the treasury; and if thou hadst more, thou wouldst give it him.  
3. 'Tis a pregnant gift, a comprehensive gift, and contains many other things in it. As the Apostle says, He having given thee his Son; how shall he not with him give thee all things also? This is the spring of motion, that sets the wheels on working. When this Royal Fort is taken, all the rest will be yielded up presently. When the Heart ondites a good matter, than the Tongue will be like the Pen of a ready Writer; then thy Glory will awake, thy Tongue will praise his Name, and encourage others in his ways; then thy bowels will be enlarged, and thy hands open to the necessity of the Saints; then there will be a Covenant made with the eyes, and a watch set before the door of thy lips; then thy feet will run to the place where his honour dwelleth; and all the members of the body will become instruments of Righteousness unto Holiness. Which shows the vanity of those ignorant ones, who thank God, though they cannot express themselves, yet their hearts are as good as the best; though there be not one beam of light in, nor one spark of love in them; whereas a good heart never wanted for some real expression. He in the Comedian was very deservedly laughed at; who would seem to be angry, but could express it no otherwise, then by saying Irascor; whereas true anger would soon have shown itself in its proper colours▪ in its sudden, and extemporary sparklings, in its vehement, and furious flamings. They that can show a good heart no otherwise then by saying they have a good one; they do even desire us not to believe them  
They that offered up sacrifices were wont to judge of them most according to the inwards, and God doth thus judge of performances. For  
1. The least performances, if the heart accompany them, are accepted by him. That Persian Monarch was famous for accepting a little water from the hand of a loving Subject: And doth not Christ accept of the same? He that shall give a cup of cold water to a Disciple, in the name of a Disciple, shall not lose his reward. What though thou canst not bring such costly sacrifices, thou canst not offer up Hecatombs? Well then, bring thy Turtle-Doves, and young Pigeons; and these shall be accepted by him. Thou hast no Gold, nor Jewels; thou canst not bring any Silk, and Purple to the Tabernacle: yet bring thy Goat's hair, and Badgers skins, and these shall be welcome to him. Thou canst not bring Cedars to the Temple, thou canst not polish, and carve, and gild the Temple; Well, but canst thou be any way serviceable to it? even that shall be rewarded by him. A few broken sighs▪ if they arise from a broken heart, are very potent, and Rhetorical. A few tears▪ if they flow from this fountain, are presently bottled up; he puts your tears in his Bottle.  
2. God accepts of your intentions, if they flow from a pure heart, though they be blasted in the bud, though they be crushed in Ovo, though they never come to the birth.  

In magnis voluisse sat est.—  It was in David's heart to build a Temple, that's enough. The Schoolmen do very well determine, that Tota bonitas moralis, & malitia est in Voluntate. God judgeth of the souls complexion by those inward productions, though men judge only by outward expressions. That two-edged sword of God doth thus pierce to the marrow, to the very intentions of the heart. The Law of God it reacheth intentions, as our Saviour in those heavenly Sermons of his upon the Mount doth Spiritualise it, and parapbrase upon it. And God doth in especial manner punish naked intentions, because men cannot punish them. The venom of the seed of the Serpent doth most show itself in intentions. God restrains the outward acts for his people sake. But the strength of sin is most vigorous in its first eruptions, and ebullitions, and so the strength of goodness too.  
3. When the heart is entire. Though there be obliquities, and irregularities, yet they are passed by, and not so much attended to. No doubt but Abraham's faith staggered, when he was put to an equivocation, and we cannot easily excuse jacob's supplantings, and Rebekka's deceits, and Rahabs dissemble; and the piaefraudes of the Fathers. There was so much frailty, and imperfection in all these, as did plainly spot, and blemish them; and yet the heart being right, God accepts of that, and covers the rest with his pardoning love.  
4. Hence it is, that God looks not to the outward lump, and heap of performances, but looks to the manner of them, and the Spirit from whence they come. This might spare many a Papist his beads, which he thinks so necessary for the numbering of his prayers.  
The glimmering light of Nature taught the Heathen thus much, that the gods did not expect any benefit from them, but only a grateful acknowledgement. And this is the reason they give, why they consecrated to their gods barren trees, which indeed were green, and flourishing, but brought forth no fruit at all, as the Laurel to Apollo, the Ivy to Bacchus, the Myrtle to Venus, the Oak to Jupiter, the Pine to Neptune, the Poplur to Hercules; and so in many of the rest. And they will tell you, that the gods did not look for any fruit from their worshippers, but looked for homage, and obedience, and thankfulness. And it is that which ingenuity teacheth men, not to look to the quantity, and value of a gift; but to respect the affection of him that gives it▪ Away then with those vain ones, that think to bribe Heaven with their gifts, and to stop the mouth of Justice with their performances. All duties and performances they are but to comment, and paraphrase upon the heart. In prayer God expects a flaming heart; in hearing of the Word, he looks for a melted heart; in fasting, rend your hearts, and not your clothes; in thanksgiving he listens to hear whether ye make melody in your hearts. Religion it doth spiritualise performances, and doth shell them, and take the kernel; it doth extract the spirits, and quitessence of them.  
5. Hence it is, that without this, the most pompous performances are scorned, and rejected. A sacrifice without an heart is an abomination to him. I hate your burnt-offerings, my soul nauseates your solemn assemblies. Odi Danaos, & dona ferentes. Bring me no more vain oblations; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. A corrupt heart, it soils every Ordinance, it stains and discolours every Duty, it envenoms every mercy. If such a one pray, 'tis esteemed howling; if he mourn, 'tis hanging down the head like a bulrush; if he sacrifice, 'tis cutting off a dog's neck; if he rejoice, 'tis but a blaze, a crackling of thorns under the pot.  
6. In Heaven when outward performances shall vanish, yet than God shall have thine heart, and thou shalt have his face; thy wellbeloved shall be thine, and thou shalt be his. When Preaching shall cease, and Prayer shall cease, when Sacraments shall disappear, yet than thy naked heart shall be offered unto God; it shall twine about the chiefest good, and by a near, and immediate union shall enjoy it for ever.  
III. The Heart is to be given unto God, because thou hast promised it him. Remember that Primitive, and Original vow in Baptism. God then may take possession of the heart, if he please; for he hath the key of all hearts; he hath the key of an Infant's heart, and can open it if he please. But however there is an engagement upon thee by this to give him thine heart. And sure there are few, but sometime or other, have given him several other promises of their hearts. Didst thou never offer thine heart unto him in a storm? in a judgement? in a sickness? Well then, withal remember that God takes no pleasure in fools, that make vows, and break them. His promises to thee are sure, why should thine be deceitful?  
IV. Give thine heart unto him, that he may make it better. It may be thou hast a flinty, and unmalliable heart; give it to him, and he will melt it, and dissolve it. It may be thou hast a barren, and unprofitable heart; give it to him, and he will make it fruitful; he will bid it increase, and multiply. It may be thou hast an unquiet, and discomposed heart; give it to him, and he will tune it. It may be thou hast a narrow, and contracted heart; give it to him, and he will enlarge it. It may be thou hast a drossy, and corrupt heart; give it to him, and he will purify, and refine it.  
V. Give it him, that he may make it happy, that he may fill it with his love, that he may satisfy it with himself, that he may seal it with his Spirit. It hath toiled already sufficiently, and wearied itself among vanities; it hath gone from flower to flower, and can extract nothing but bitterness; and still Desire, which is hiatus cordis opens its mouth wide, and cries aloud, Give, give. Go then to the Fountain, to the Ocean, and there fill thyself. Dost thou think thou canst suck any sweetness from the breast of a Creature? no, but go to the fullness, and exuberancy of a Deity, and then stretch thy desires to the utmost compass, widen thine heart as much as thou canst, yet there will be enough to make thee run over with happiness.  
That's the first thing, why the heart must be given to God? We'll consider in the next place, when the Heart may be said to be given to him?  
(1.) When thou actest out of a principle of love toward him▪ What's love but a giving of the heart? As Dalilah speaks to Samson; How canst thou say thou lov'st me, when thine heart is not with me. A lover not only, quaerit costam suam, as the Jews speak, sed quaerit cor suum, for he hath given that to another. And where there is mutual love, there's a mutual exchange of hearts. God loves himself in thee, and thou findest thyself in God. His thoughts are for thy welfare, and thy thoughts are for his glory. In love there is a mixing and blending of beings; 'tis fibula animarum; nay, it knits, and weaves souls together. Knit my heart unto thee, O God, says the Psalmist.  
(2.) Then thine heart is given unto God, when thou dost act out of sincerity, when thou art an Israelite without guile. This is Evangelicall perfection: it is that Evangelical allowance, which is put into the balance of the Sanctuary, so as a Christian is not found too light. As for keeping every jot, and apex of the Law, let them speak of it, that could ever do it. Thy Saviour hath kept it for thee in the full rigour, and exactness of it, and those spots which thou findest in thine own heart, thou must wash them out in the blood of the Lamb; thou must whiten thine heart in that Fountain, which is set open for the house of David, and for the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for sin, and for uncleanness. If thou be'st sincere, and cordial, and faithful with thy God, than thine heart is given to him.  
(3.) Then thou dost give thine heart unto God, when thou dost fully comply with him in those glorious ends, in those great interests, and designs which he doth propound to himself; when thou dost submit thy will unto his, and conform thy desires unto his; when thou dost wholly resign up thyself unto him, and sweetly close with his providence, though never so mysterious, and unsearchable: when thou dost pluck out thy right eye for him and cut off thy right hand for him; when thou thinkest not thy life too dear for him.  
(4.) Then thou dost give thine heart unto God, when thou dost serve him with vigour, and intention. Lukewarm Laodicea could not give the heart unto Christ. Ephesus when she falls from her first love, her heart is unbended presently, performances come dropping from her in a weak, and languishing manner. Whereas spiritual productions they should be strong, and masculine, springing, and rushing forth with a sacred impetus, as God's love comes streaming to thee with an irresistible fullness. Thine heart should boil up a good matter, as the Psalmist speaks. But some are so cold, and flat in performances, as that you would wonder where the heart was all the while; and to be sure wherever it was, it was an heart of stone, a Nabals heart, an heart sunk within them▪ Popery lays much stress upon the intention of the Priest, but the people in the mean time may be as remiss as they please. As implicit faith, so implicit prayers, and implicit performances must suffice them. But if they had but a Bible, or such a one as they could understand, they might turn to that same place; Cursed is every one, that doth the work of the Lord negligently. Offer such blind, and lame sacrifices; offer them to thy Prince. Offer such imperfect obedience to the Pope. See whether he will accept of it. I remember I have read of one of them, who when his Catholic Creatures desired a further latitude, and dispensation in some matters of Religion that were of less consequence, he returned him a favourable, and indulgent answer; but withal, he enclosed this very Text; O fili mi, praebe cor tuum mi●i. Thus Popery would rob God of the heart, and give it to a Creature.  
(5.) Then thou givest thine heart unto God, when thou givest it unto the people of God. In as much as you did it unto one of these, you did it unto me, saith Christ. There's an union between God and his people; and therefore if thine heart be united to them, it is united to him also. And how sad is it, that those hearts should jar amongst themselves; who yet harmoniously meet in the close in the union with their God  
And thus we have seen why the heart must be given unto God, and when it is given to him. We will now shut up all in a word of Application.  
1. See then how powerful Religion is, it commands the heart; it seizeth upon the vitals. Morality that comes with a pruning knife, and cuts off all sproutings, and wild luxuriancies; I, but Religion lays the axe to the root of the tree. Morality looks that the skin of the Apple be fair; but Religion searcheth to the very core. Morality chides outward exorbitancies: but Religion checks secret inclinations. Or at the best in Morality there is but a polishing, a guilding, a carving of the heart; but in Religion there is a new framing, a new modelling; nay, a new creating. That's the power of god linesse, it changeth the heart.  
2. See also the odiousness of an Hypocrite. He doth not give God the heart; and yet will give any thing else; I, and will seem to give that too. He hath 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which the Apostle renders by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Now an heart, and an heart, 'tis as odious as a weight, and a weight, as a balance, and a balance. Treachery, and perfidiousness is that, which is so much detested by men, as that which cuts the sinews of humane Society: and though there be some that will practise it, yet there are scarce any that will in express terms patronise it; 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.  as he there speaks. Now as perfidiousness hinders commerce, and intercourse with men; so hypocrisy must needs hinder communion with God. Can you think that a painted Sepulchre is a fit place for his Spirit to dwell in? This is that which Christ doth so much upbraid; Thou blind Pharisee, thou that never reflectest upon thine own heart, thou that keepest a continual poring on the outside only, and lookest to the painting, and whiting, and daubing of that; dost thou think thus to please the pure, and bright, and piercing eye of Omniscience? Thou hast not the black skin of the Ethiopian; thou hast not those eminent spots of the Leopard: ay, but thou hast the plague of the heart, thou hast the Leprosy within, and is not that more deadly and dangerous? The heart of a Publican is far whiter than thine.  
3. See then the bitter root of Apostasy. There are some that never gave their hearts unto God, no wonder if they fall from him. Hypocrisy 'tis the seed of Apostasy. Take heed (says the Apostle) lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief, so as that you depart from the living God. He that hath a Judas his heart in him will at length betray a Saviour: he that hath a Demas his heart in him will at length embrace the present World. An Apostate did but lend the heart unto God for a while, and now he calls for it again.  
4. Yet see the security of a weak Christian, he hath an heart as well as others, and he hath given that to his God. He hath a vital Principle, an immortal Principle within him. What though the sturdy Oaks of Basan be broken? what though the stately Cedars of Lebanon fall? what though the green Bay-trees vanish, and disappear? what though men of vast abilities, of rare accomplishments, of fair flourishes in Religion, what though these draw back from God? yet a weak Vine may stand all this while leaning upon his beloved laden with fruit, cheering both God, and men; a bruised Reed may last all this while, if it be but bound up in the Bundle of Life. The smoking flax may be kindled into so pure a flame, as that it may outshine a blazing Professor. A worm may consume Jonah his Gourd, but a Whale shall not consume Jonah himself. Outward profession may wither, but nothing shall separate a Sincere soul from his God.  
5. Such as have not yet given their hearts unto God, let them withhold them no longer. Put up thy weak desires, and pray him to give thee such an heart, as may return itself to him. Doth God ask thine heart of thee, and dost thou refuse to give it him? What dost thou ask of him that he denies thee, if it be good for thee? and do but think how easily dost thou give thine heart unto any other but thy God. When the World knocks, when Satan knocks, thou openest presently; nay, it may be before they knock; and must a Saviour only be excluded? Is there no Rhetoric in the love of Christ? Is there nothing that can draw thine heart to him? Are all the cords of love too weak? Dost thou break them all? Will not the influences of the Gospel soften thine heart? Will not the blood of a Saviour dissolve it? will not importunate woo, and beseechings move thee? Out of what Rock wert thou hewn, O obdurate Soul? Doth a greater than Moses smite the Rock, and will not it gush out with water? Dost thou say, thou canst not give it to him? this answer is ready for thee; Non velle in causa est, non posse praetenditur; if thou hadst a will to give it him, thou wouldst have a power to give it him too. However as thou hast some faint velleities, so make some weak endeavours; when he moves thee, then offer it to him as well as thou canst, though but with a weak, though but with a trembling hand, and his hand will meet thine, and will presently take it of thee.  
6. Such as have given their hearts unto God, here's matter of praise, and thankfulness. Bless thy God that would receive such a vain, and contemptible thing, as thine heart was, when first thou gavest it to him. Was it not infinite love to espouse such an heart to himself; to beautify it, and enrich it, and prepare it for his Love; to guide it, and teach it, and rule it; to steep it in all precious sweetness; to amplify it, and dilate it, that it might be more capable of his Love; to set a guard about it, and to keep it against the subtlety, and vigilancy, the malice, and fury of spiritual enemies? How canst thou enough admire the greatness of this his Goodness?   

THE Panting Soul.  PSAL. 42. 1. 
As the Hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God  
HEre's one of the sweet strains of David's harp: one of those bright and sparkling expressions, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which not only carry a Majesty with them, but even include a Deity: one of those holy and strong ejaculations, with which he was wont è corporis pharetra (that I may allude to that of the Prophet Esay's) to take his soul (that polished shaft) out of the quiver of the body, and to dart it up to heaven, the place of his treasure and hope, and the dwelling place of his God. And truly every Psalm may well say, as the Psalmist himself says in the 139. Psalm, I am admirably made, I am curiously wrought: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, so ti's in the Original, Acupictus sum. I am wrought with a needle. There's a spiritual embroidery, a most rare and sacred needlework in every Psalm: they are all wrought by the finger of the Spirit: and they are like the King's daughter in the 45. Psalm, Their clothing is of wrought gold, their raiment of needlework, and they are all glorious within. We doubt not but that there's a most divine Emphasis in all Scripture-eloquence, and every jot and tittle in holy writ, as it has eternity stamped upon it, so it has a Majesty shining in it; But yet never did heavenly eloquence ride in more solemn and triumphant pomp, then in this book of Psalms: As if the voice had been here contrary to that in other triumphs, Memento te immortalem esse. And as for that profane Politician, that said he found more sweetness in Pindars Odes, then in David's Psalms: he might as well have said (if he had pleased) that he found more fragrancy▪ in noisome weeds, then in the Rose of Sharon, or Lily of the valleys: that he found more sweetness in a dunghill, then in a garden of spices, then in an Eden, even a garden of God. Happy Pindar! If instead of his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he had thought of these water-brooks, and he might have hoped for a better Crown, then either he or any of his worthies were like to obtain; if he could have reached this heavenly tune, set by so holy a Lyric, the sweet singer of Israel, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. as the Septuagint render the words. And yet their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 speaks not loud enough to express the Hebrew 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; for though 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 may signify a strong and earnest desire, and though 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 may intimate a desire upon a desire, which by reduplication must needs be stronger: and granting that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, do still add to the vehemency of it: yet the word in the Original is more appropriated to the panting hart, and may seem to be borrowed from that very noise which it makes in its braying after the water-brooks, and the Latin glocitat is answerable unto it. Now as for the hart, alas 'tis but a melancholy timorous creature at the best▪ a panting creature, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 You know who 'twas upbraided it to Agamemnon, Thou hast an impudent eye, and a panting heart: and no more usual Periphrasis, of a coward, than 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. But that which the text chiefly aims at, is the dryness of temper in the Hart, which at some times of the year, (in Autumn chiefly) as Aristotle notes in his Historistia Animalium, is very excessive, especial in those hot and dry Countries, and being usually in the desert, doth more discover itself, by reason of the scarcity of waters there. To let that alone which yet divers tell us of its drawingup, & devouring of serpents, and how that when 'tis inflamed with the venom of them, it than breaks out into those strong anhelations & violent breathe after the streams of water, and when it hath satisfied itself with them, it than casts off all that was burdensome in the body before, and thus renews its age again▪ Epiph▪ adds, that if within the space of three hours it can't quench its thirst, it presently dies: but if it satisfy itself with the streams of water, it usually lives fifty years longer. 'Tis likely here in the text, 'tis meant of the Hearts panting, when 'tis chased by the hunter, and yet not as some understand) when that after its many 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it can find no place of safety, it than pants after the water-brooks, as the only place of refuge: but rather 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (as Aristotle briefly) for the quenching of its thirst, as the following words clearly intimate, My soul is athirst, etc. Haeret lateri lethalis arundo, the arrows of the pursuer stick fast in it, & the venom thereof drinks up its spirits. Why now water-brooks can hardly quench its thirst, with Behemoth in Job, it can drink up rivers, and sup up the Ocean at a draught, there's a combustion in its bowels, nothing but fire, fire; nature's on fire, and would fain be quenched, and those little relics of strength that it has, it spends in panting after the streams of water. Thus does the Hart pant after the water-brooks, and thus did David's soul; thus does every devout soul pant after the living God; and thus ardently. Religion is no matter of indifferency as vain man would imagine. It is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as he said of love. It requires the very flower and vigour of the spirit, the strength and sinews of the soul▪ the prime and top of affections. It is no empty wish, nor languishing endeavour, no stillborn prayer, nor abortive resolution will serve the turn. He that's but almost a Christian, shall but almost be saved, and that will be the very Emphasis of damnation, to have been within a step to heaven. But there is a grace, a panting grace, we know the name of it, and that's all, 'tis called zeal, a flaming edge of affection, and the ruddy complexion of the soul; which argues it sound▪ and shows it lovely. This is that, that makes a Christian an holy spark, a son of the coal, even of the burning coal, that was fetched from the Altar. Nay, we need not go so low as this, a zealous Christian is an incarnate Seraphim, what should I say more? he's just of his Saviour's complexion, white and ruddy, the fairest of ten thousand. This was that, that set a lustre upon those shining Rubies, that adorned the Noble Army of Martyrs, purpuratus marty●um exercitu●; And indeed they were 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in a better sense, than e'er▪ it was meant of Antipater. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'tis true indeed, their soul was a thirst even for the living God, they entered into heaven panting, and there they rest themselves to all eternity. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, There remains therefore a rest, a sabbatism, unto the people of God. And yet there are a generation in the world that are all for a competency in goodness, and are afeard of too much holiness; Mediocrity, even here is golden, a Laodicean temper shall go under the name of moderation, and a reeling neutrality shall be styled prudence and discretion, what needs this breathing and panting? this forwardness and eagerness? this vehemency and violence in the way of Religion? quorsum haec perditio? And they look upon such expressions of affection as this in the text, as upon strong Hyperboles, or pretty Rhetorical flourishes. jeremy surely was strangely melancholy, when he wished his head a fountain▪ that he might weep day and night; and 'twas mere fondness in the Spouse in the Canticles, to be sick of love. Thus does the serpent hiss at the ways of godliness, and thus does the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 argue. But go vain man, look upon the panting hart, wonder why it breathes so strongly after the streams of water; bid it pant moderately after the water-brooks, and when thy empty breath can abate its fervency, then and not till then, nay hardly then, wonder at the strength of a Christians desire after communion with his God: for as the Hart pants after the water-brooks, so panteth his soul after his God, so strongly.  
2. So panteth my soul after thee, O God so unsatisfiably: And that in a double sense.  
1. 'Tis satisfied with nothing else. 2. 'Tis not satisfied with a little of this.  
1. Nothing can still the weary and thirsty Hart, but the streams of water, and nothing can content the panting soul, but the fruition of his God: God never rested till he made man, and man never rests till he enjoys his God. He has a soul within him of a vast capacity, and nothing can fill it to the brim, but he that's fullness itself. Desire is hiatus voluntatis, and such as nothing but happiness can fill it: that indeed is (as he says) Mors desiderii, silentium appetitûs, claustrum cupiditatis, modestia ambitionis, quoddam satis.  
Nature hath taught us all to pant after a summum bonum; And 'tis the voice put into every one's mouth, Who will show us any good? indeed 'tis the errand for which we are sent into the world, to find out happiness, and yet we seek it so as if we were loath to find it. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, As Lucian follows the metaphor most elegantly. And happiness may well have that inscription, which Plutarch tells us, was upon the temple of Isis, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. We knock at every creatures door, but there's nothing within, no filling entertainment for the soul; no creature can bid it welcome. Would you know what they all amount to? if you'll believe Solomon's reckoning, the very summa totalis is, vanity of vanities, all is vanity and vexation of spirit. Vexation is the very quintessence of the creature, and all that can possibly be extracted out of it. Now if vanity can satisfy, or if vexation can give content, if you can gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles, go on then to dote upon the creatures, and to be enamoured with a shadow of perishing beauty. The Prophet Esay tells us, that all the creatures they are but as the drop of a bucket; when the water's emptied out of a bucket, perhaps there's a drop stays s●ill behind, a weak drop, which recollecting all its forces, yet has not strength enough to fall. And will such a drop (think you) satisfy a panting heart? The creatures are weighed in the balance of the sanctuary, and they are found to be lighter than the dust of the balance, and this will inflame the thirst, rather than quench it. To speak in the Epigrammatists language, they are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, mere nothing. And surely man's the vainest of all the rest, the index of all the volumes of vanity; that by sin has subjected the creatures unto the bondage, under which they groan, and wait to be delivered, and yet dreams of distilling I know not what felicity out of them, so that (me thinks) 'twas a notable expression of him, that styled the Orators very ambitious of empty applause 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, we may surely translate it thrice miserable: And 'tis one of the Encomiums that Eunapius gave of Longinus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And as for that supposed being and excellency, which we fancy in the creatures, 'tis really to be found after a far more pure and eminent manner in God himself. The loadstone can't draw the iron when the diamond's in presence, and shall earthly vanities draw the soul, when the pearl of price is in presence? Dulciùs ex ipso fonte bibuntur aquae▪ Surely that's no panting soul, that forsakes the fountain of living waters, and digs to itself broken and empty cisterns that will hold no water. The Hart pants unsatisfiably after the water▪ brooks, and the soul as unsatisfiably after communion with its God, 'tis satisfied with nothing else. But  
2 'Tis not satisfied with a little of this, not a drop nor a taste will suffice the thirsty heart, it does not come like Canis ad Nilum, a lap and away, a drop can no more quench its thirst, than it could cool Dives his tongue, though indeed he begged for no more. That short sweetness and brief refreshment, which is shut up in a drop, does but bespeak a stronger panting after somewhat more full and satisfactory, and 'tis true if ever of the waters of life, Quò plus sunt potae, plus sitiuntu● aquae. Bonum as 'tis sui diffusi●um in respect of others, so 'tis sui multiplicativum even in that subject where it is: when it has once engratiated itself with the soul and won upon its affections, when the soul begins to eye the beauty of it.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
When the understanding once sees it, O how sweetly? how presently does the will embrace it? and it becomes the well-beloved of the soul. O how does it enlarge itself, for the entertainment of it? And how does it delight to expatiate in so choice a happiness. He that has tasted but a little of God's goodness, thinks he never has enough of it, to be sure, he can never have too much▪ there's no fear of surfeiting upon happiness. 'Tis true, the least glimpse of God's favourable presence is enough to support and cherish the soul, but 'tis not enough to satisfy the soul: O how pleasant is it to see Christ flourishing through the lattices? and yet the spouse will never leave longing till she see him face to face. There's sweetness indeed in a cluster of Canaan▪ but yet such as sets the teeth on edge for more The thirsty hart pants 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the Christian after fullness of communion with his God: Dulcissimo Deo totus immergicupit & inviscerari, as Carthusian speaks; So panteth my soul after thee, O God so unsatisfiably But  
3▪ So pants my soul after thee O God so uncessantly until it be satisfied. The thirsty hart never leaves panting while it has any being; delay here does but whet desire, and give it time for stronger forces. And what else is a Christians whole life, but a continued anhelation after his God? and though this may seem very wearisome and tedious, to be always a panting: yet the Christians soul finds far more incomparable sweetness 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, solid and massy joy, beaten joy, like beaten gold, so much 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 imports; he finds more of this in the very panting after his God, than any worldling can, when with the greatest complacency he takes his fill of his choicest delights, and when he enjoys the smiles and blandishment of fortune, his so much adored Deity.  
And this is that which notably differences a Christian from an hypocrite; Will an hypocrite pray always? says Job, or will he pant always? no, he keeps the rule, Si ter pulsanti, by no means knock at heaven too often. What nothing but breathing after the water-brooks? better take up some muddy contentment by the way, and see if that will quench his thirst: Indeed he ne'er tasted the sweetness of the fountain, no wonder that he so easily parts with it. His strongest panting was but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as the Moralist says of passion, fraus inflammata: the motion was merely violent, and therefore not likely to last long. Me thinks the Greek Epigram speaks to him 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, The painter's eye steals a little beauty from the face, and perhaps his hand makes restitution, restoring it again in the picture; and this is all you can look for of him, nay 'tis well if he perform so much: As for the expression of vitals, or the representation of essentials, 'tis ultra penecillum, so that he must let this alone for ever. The most accomplished hypocrite, the cunningest painter of Religion that sets it out, in the finest and freshest colours 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he does but steal a form of godliness, the Apostle has some such phrase, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. He can't reach to the vitals of Religion, nor express the essentials of holiness, sincerity can't be painted, they deny the power of it: And 'tis just with God, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as they can't express the life of a Christian, so they should not taste the joy of a Christian: no stranger entermeddles with his joy. As no man can paint the essence of a thing, so no man can paint the sweetness of a thing. Whoever could paint the sweetness of the honeycomb? The joys of an hypocrite as they are groundless and imaginary, so like his services, they are vanishing and transitory. But a Christian as he's always breathing after his God, so he's always drawing sweetness from him▪ And here 'twere easy to show, how in every condition the soul breathes after its God, when it sees the vanity of the most flourishing condition, it pants after fullness in its God: when it sees the vexation of a cloudy condition, it pants after contentment only to be found in its God. But I shall instance only in these two, as having some nearer acquaintance with the text, the strong pant of a tempted soul, and the secret pant of a languishing and a deserted soul. And  
1. In temptations the soul pants after its God. They that are skilled in those terms tell us, that an Hart is properly a stag which has escaped a King in hunting: And there are some such Christians, that have escaped the Prince of the air (that Nimrod the mighty hunter) and all his fiery darts. God he has set his bow in the clouds as a token of peace and reconciliation (the rainbow, the lace of Peace's coat:) And the devil he must set his bow in the clouds too, in the troubled and cloudy spirit, and there are arrows in the hand of the mighty— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And how shall the soul escape these fiery darts, but by panting after its God as the only place of refuge, a strong Tower and a rock of defence, and by breathing after Heaven, as a place where 'tis sure to be free from them? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as he said in the Comedy. A crowned Christian is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and Satan's fiery darts can by no means reach Heaven. And thus the soul pants.  
Arise O Lord, and save me O my God, from the mouth of the Lion that's ready to devour me, lest he tear my soul and rend it to pieces, while there is none to deliver. Lo, the enemy has bend his bow, and made ready his arrow upon the string, that he may secretly shoot at the upright in heart: But compass me, O God, with thy favour as with a shield; keep me as the apple of thine eye, and hide me under the covert of thy wings: Deliver me from my strong enemy, and from him that hateth me, for he is too strong for me. O send me help from thy Sanctuary; and strengthen me out of Zion! And thus when with a sure recumbency it leans upon its God, it has leisure then with an holy triumph to outbrave the enemy: And as for thee that wouldst make a partition between me and my God, see if thou canst tear me from the bleeding wounds of my dying Saviour, rend me (if thou knowst how) from the bowels, the tenderest bowels of God's dearest compassions: see if the gates of hell can prevail against the rock of eternity. If thou, O God, be with us, if the God of Jacob be our refuge, we will not fear what all the powers of darkness can do against us: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, We are more than conquerors. These are the strong pant of a tempted soul.  
2ly, In desertions, even than the soul pants after its God; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when the soul is ready to perish in the dark, it pants after the water▪ brooks and can meet with nothing but waters of Marah and Meribah; God dips his pen in gall, and writes bitter things against it. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ the soul is athirst, and like its Saviour it can have nothing but gall and vinegar to drink, yet still it pants after its God. 'Tis under a cloud indeed, but even these clouds shall drop fatness, they shall drop upon the dwellings of the wilderness, and the barren soul shall rejoice: like John the Baptist, it feeds upon honey in the desert, not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, wild honey, such as is the worldling's joy, but honey out of the rock, upon the tip of the rod like Jonathans', to open the eye and to refresh the heart. A soul in a desertion▪ is as it were a soul in a Consumption, and one only taste of God's sweetest love in Jesus Christ, is a sure Restaurative for such a languishing soul. Now in the greatest Eclipse of God's favour, in the total Eclipse▪ when there is not so much as a secret light, yet there's a strong influence, nay stronger than at another time, for his strength is proportioned to our weakness: And they are Paul's own words, When I am weak, than I am strong. And even now there is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Homer calls those sparkles that seemed to be buried in the ashes, and a Christian in time may 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; nay, there is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 too, Light is sown to the righteous, there's a door of Hope opened in the valley of Ach●r; and now the soul pants after God, as a Father of mercies and a God of Consolations. A God of Consolation? what higher, what sweeter strain? All the balm of Gilead seems to be wrapped up in this expression. A God of Consolation; that's one, who in the strangest exigences and greatest repugnances, when comforts fail, can create new comforts, for that's to be a God of Consolation; Creation is his properly, can raise them out of the barren womb of nothing, for that's Creation; can do it with a word, for Omnipotency useth to put itself to no greater expenses: Imperatoria brevitas▪ the very commanding word, let there be light in such a soul, is enough to make it more glorious than the Empyrean heaven. And now the soul pants thus, as you may hear David panting almost in every Psalm: How long wilt thou forget me O Lord, for ever? And how long wilt thou hide thy face from me? Hath the Lord forgotten to be gracious? And hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies? Is the hand of Omnipotency abbreviated, that it cannot help; and his arm shortened, that it cannot save? Or is his mercy clean gone for ever, and does his promise fail for evermore? Weeping hath endured for a night, why comes not joy in the morning? When wilt thou satisfy the longing soul, and fill the thirsty with thy goodness? when wilt thou lead me into thy green pastures, and refresh my soul with sweetness? When, O when! shall I enjoy an Ordinance in its Orient lustre, in its heavenly beauty, in its full and purest sweetness? When, O blessed Saviour! wilt thou become the lily of the valleys? the beauty and the ornament of the humble soul? And when shall these valleys stand so thick of corn, as that they may laugh and sing? And then it breaks itself into some such expression, as that of a sweet singer in our Israel. 𝄁 Ah my dear God, though I be clean forgot, 𝄁 Let me not love thee, if I love thee not. These are the secret pant of a languishing soul.  
Thus you see how the soul pants after its God, even as the Hart pants after the Water-brooks. We are to discover in the next place, what manner of Communion with its God it is, that the soul thus pants after, and that either mediate Communion with him here in his ordinances, or immediate Communion with him hereafter in glory. And  
First, It strongly desires acquaintance with him here in his ordinances Chry●ostome's very Rhetorical upon the text, and tells us, how that David, like a Lover in absence, he must express affection: As they have their dainty sighs, and passionate complaints: their loving exclamations, and sundry discoveries of affection; they can meet with never a tree, but in the bark of it they must engrave the name of their darling; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; 'twill twine upon every opportunity, as the Moralist speaks; 𝄁 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 𝄁 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 𝄁 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 𝄁 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Anacreon sings. And the true Lovers of God, they are always thinking upon him, sighing for him panting after him, talking of him, and (if 'twere possible,) would engrave the name of the Lord Jesus upon the breasts of all the men in the world; Look upon David, now a banished man, and fled from the presence of Saul, and see how he behaves himself: not like Themistocles or Camillus, or some of those brave banished Worthies. He does not complain of the ungratefulness of his country, the malice of his adversaries, and his own unhappy success; No, instead of murmuring he falls a panting, and that only after his God. He's banished from the Sanctuary, the Palace of God's nearest presence▪ and chiefest residence, he can't enjoy the beauty of holiness, and all other places seem to him but as the tents of Kedar. He's banished from the Temple, and he thinks himself banished from his God, as 'tis in the following words, O when shall I come and appear before the face of God? The whole stream of Expositors run this way, that 'tis meant of his strong longing to visit the Temple, and those amiable Courts of his God, with which his soul was so much taken, and so 'tis equivalent to that in the 63. Ps. My soul thirsteth for thee, to see thy glory and thy power, so as I have seen it in the Sanctuary, there to appear before the face of God. In the ordinances extat Dei facies, as Calvin speaks, and the Gospel, in 2 Cor. 4. 6. is called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as suppose a glass, ('tis one of our own Divines illustrations,) when a man hath looked into it, should keep a permanent and unvanishing species of his face, though he himself afterwards were absent, we might well say there were the face of such a man. The Gospel is such a glass, representing Christ unto us, 'tis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that I may borrow that expression in the Hebrews, so that when we shall come to see him 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Heaven, we may be able to say, Surely this is the very Saviour that was described to me in the Gospel, sic ille manus, sic ora ferebat: God has made himself very conspicuous in his own ordinances.  
No doubt, but that even now God was a little Sanctuary unto David, and he had a private Oratory in his own breast, where he could mentally retire, and shut up his thoughts and affections in that interior Closet, and yet he pants after the public worship of his God. Music in Consort is sweetest▪ And some have took it for mysterious in nature, and one of its Magnalia, that affections are wrought upon in public more strongly then in private. The ordinances, these are the water-brooks David's heart pants after, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, bubbling up to Eternity. And yet 'tis not the outside of an Ordinance that the soul thus breathes for; alas! there's little sweetness in a shell. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the Apostle says in another case, the superficies the surface of it soon passes away, and 'tis practical Popery to rest in an Opus operatum. You may hear David panting in another place, O who will give me to drink of the water of the Well of Bethlehem? It was not the outward water that he so much longed for. You see when that was brought him by the hazard of men's lives, 'twas but water spilt upon the ground: No, 'twas a Saviour to be born in Bethlehem that his soul thirsted after: O who will give me to drink of the water of the Well of Bethlehem? Thou hast opened thy mouth wide (O blessed Prophet!) and thy Saviour hath filled it▪ thou hast tasted of the water which he has given thee to drink, and thou shalt never thirst any more: but 'tis a Well of water springing up in thee to eternal life. A soul breathes after an Ordinance as an opportunity of having freer intercourse with its God; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to have an heavenly tincture upon it, to breath in so sweet an air, to be steeped in a divine nature, to have some foretastes and prelibations of happiness, a prepossession of heaven, and some dawnings of glory. And then it enjoys it in its orient lustre, in its heavenly beauty, in its full and purest sweetness, when it meets with its God there, and increaseth its acquaintance with him. And would you see how the soul thus breathes after its God in every Ordinance.  
1. In the Word, there it desires the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the Apostle speaks. Homer tells us of a People, that he terms 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; and Eustathius there tells us, that the same were wont to be called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, both names very well agree to them, that desire this sincere milk of the Word that they may grow thereby. Faith pants after a promise, a breast of consolation. The soul lies panting at the pool of Bethesda, and waits for the stirring of the waters.  
2. Baptism, that's a water-brook the Infant's soul pants after; for even that's envenomed with a Serpent. There are Erratas in these Carnea Encheiridia, though they be the fairest Copies of innocency that are now extant. Indeed many of the fathers apply this text to Baptism: And Aquinas quotes it out of Jerome, that these verses were wont to be sung at those solemn times, when Baptism was publicly celebrated.  
3. As for the Sacrament of the Lords Supper, why there are mellita flumina, streaming brooks of butter and honey, as Job speaks: and O how welcome is the panting soul hither! God has sent a messenger to invite him. O! every one that thirsteth, let him come and drink freely: Drink; yea, drink abundantly O beloved! 'Tis most true here that which Trismegistus feigned, God sets a great Cup full of Celestial liquor, with this Proclamation, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Up soul, and drench thyself in this Cup of the Spirit; Calix ebrius est, as the force of the Original is in Psal. 23. we render it, The Cup overflows. Here if ever, the soul is comforted with flagons, and Christ's love is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, sweeter than wine.  
4. What should I tell you; nay, how can I tell you the strong pant of the soul in Prayer? The Apostle calls them, Rom. 8. 26. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, groans unutterable, when the soul becomes, as the Syriack Idiom calls the thuribulum, domus aromatum, breathing up sweet odours unto the Throne of grace, and Heaven itself is thus perfumed; Domus orationis, is Domus aromatum. In all these you see how the soul breathes after Communion with its God, mediate Communion with him here. But  
2dly, it pants after immediate Communion with him in glory and the following words will well bear this sense, though not so properly and genuine, O when shall I appear before the face of God in glory. Thus Paul pants, I desire to be dissolved, and to be with Christ. Thus the souls pant in the Revelation, Come Lord Jesus, come quickly. Hîc pitissamus, illic deglutiemur: Here we sip of the water of life, but there we shall drink it up, though there be eternity to the bottom▪ Here we are sons of hope, and that's a panting grace▪ Spes indeed is aurora gaudii & matutina laetitia, early joy: but when grace shall be ripened into glory, than hope shall be swallowed up in fruition; And thus we (as 'tis in 2 Cor. 3. 18.) with open face 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 You see that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here denotes a clear vision, whereas quite contrary in 1 Cor. 13. to see 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is to see 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, we see in a glass darkly. A learned Critic hath well observed, that the Hebrew 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 includes both, for it signifies vision and speculation: we clearly beholding the glory of God, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, that's either, from his glory we become glorious, or else 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that's from grace to glory, for grace is glory in the bud, as glory is grace at the full. Surely glory is nothing else but a bright Constellation of graces; and happiness nothing but the Quintessence of holiness. And now the soul by an holy gradation ascends higher, from those first-fruits and earnest-penies of joy here, to the consideration of the fullness of glory which it expects hereafter.  
𝄁 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 𝄁 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 𝄁 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 𝄁 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 𝄁 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the Lyric strains sweetly, when the soul shall be unsheathed from the body, (that I mayallude to the Chaldee Idiom,) how gloriously shall it then glister? or to speak in Plutarch's expression, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when the soul shall be unclouded from the body, in what brightness shall it then appear? what? did David's soul, his panting soul, here leap for joy, when he remembered thee, O Sio●? O how triumphantly then does his glorified soul now sing in the new Jerusalem! Did his soul sing so sweetly in a cage of clay? what melody (think you) does it now make, being let loose to all eternity? Is there such deliciousness in a Cluster of grapes, cut down in the brook E●hcol, what look you for in the Vintage of Canaan, the Land of Promise? Is but a Prospect of that holy land upon the top of Mount Pisgah so pleasant and delightful? surely than their lot is fallen to them in a fair ground, and they have a goodly heritage, that enjoy the sweetness of that land that flows with milk and honey. Has but a glimpse of God's favourable countenance, such a powerful, such a satisfying influence upon the soul? O think (if you can) how it shall be ravished with the fullness of the Beatifical Vision! when the clarified soul shall drink in the beams of glory, and be filled with joy to the very brim. When the panting soul shall rest itself in the bosom of a Saviour, and fix his eye upon the brightness of his Majesty to all eternity; nay, when eternity shall seem too short for the beholding and admiring of such transcendent excellencies, and for the solemnising of those heavenly Nuptials between Christ and his most beloved Spouse: where all the powers of heaven shall dance for joy, while a Consort of Seraphims sing an Epithalamium. Beloved, (says the Apostle) now are ye the sons of God, but it appears not as yet what ye shall be. This choice Prerogative of adoption does but shadow out your future glory, for it appears not as yet what ye shall be. Now ye are sons, but in your minority; sons, but yet insulted over by servants. Now ye are sons, but than ye shall be heirs, heirs of glory and coheirs with Christ. Now you see in a glass darkly, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in a riddle, and that book which is called the Revelation, is most veiled with obscurity; but than you shall see face to face, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉— as God promises to manifest to Moses; And some think, that this place of the Apostle alludes to those very words, taken out of Numb. 12. 6. The riddle of summum bonum, that hath posed so many, shall then be explicated, happiness shall be unmasked, the book shall be unsealed, the white stone shall sparkle most oriently, you shall behold with open face the glory of God, you shall know as you are known: not as if a finite creature could comprehend an infinite essence, (as some of the Schoolmen seem fond to imagine,) but the words will easily bear a double Hebraisme. You shall know as you are known, that is, either you shall know as you are approved, or else you shall know as you are known, that is, you shall know as you are made to know; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, says Beza, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, says Heinsius: for indeed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is the same with the Hebrew 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and if it be rendered Hellenistically, he tells us the words will run thus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: I shall know, so as God is pleased to be known by me, to manifest himself unto me. O let every pious Panting Soul, with its apprehensions raised and its affections advanc'●, wait and long and breath for so glorious a time, when the Panting Soul shall become an enjoying, an embracing Soul. When water-brooks shall be turned into rivers of pleasure, ever springing from God's right hand, who is the fountain of being, where the glorious rays that flow from the face of Christ shall gild those pleasant and crystalline streams, and there shall be fresh and eternal ebullitions of joy, so that the pure soul may bathe itself in bliss, and be for ever steeped in unexpressible, in unconceivable sweetness.   

Mount Ebal.  JUDGES 5. 23. 
Curse ye Meroz, (saith the Angel of the Lord) Curse bitterly the Inhabitants thereof, because they came not out to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the Mighty.  
THis Chapter is filled with a Triumphant Song, that was made by Deborah, that glorious Nursing-mother in Israel, after a great and famous Conquest, which God had given her and Barak over Jabin and Sisera, and all their mighty Hosts. She presently after the victory breaks out into a Psalm of Thanksgiving, she stirs up her soul to the praise of her God, and excites Barak▪ to bear her company in this her joy: Awake Deborah, Awake etc. Deborah in the Hebrew Language signifies a Bee; A Bee by them is called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a working, industrious creature; And this Song may well be looked upon as Deborahs' Honeycomb, a sweet and precious Song, dropping from her gracious lips, Deborahs' Honeycomb; I but withal this Bee, it has a sting. Curse ye Meroz, saith the Angel of the Lord, Curse ye bitterly, etc. These words they are the sting of Deborahs' Song, which strikes through all such as maintain not the cause of God against his enemies, that come not out to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the Mighty.  
If you look but upon the foregoing words, you may see there how this holy Prophetess takes an exact view of the behaviour of the several tribes in this time of war and commotion, when the People of Israel were now opposing the Canaanites, such enemies as God had devoted to destruction, and had given the Israelites full Commission to destroy them. And after special notice taken, she gives just Encomiums and commendations of all such as were forward and active in the Lord's cause, and withal, sharp reproofs and cutting reprehensions, to all such as were remiss and negligent in this their duty. And first she begins with the praise of them that deserved it.  
Out of Ephraim was there a root of them against Amalek.] This tribe sent in aid to Israel, and the root that sprang from hence against Amalek was Deborah herself, who judged Israel, dwelling under a Palmtree, between Ramath and Bethel in Mount Ephraim, and by her charge and authority the war was undertaken, it was she that whetted Barak, and encouraged the Israelites against their enemies.  
After thee Benjamin, among thy People.] Against thee, O Amalek; some of this tribe also adjoined themselves to Deborah.  
Out of Machir came down Governors.] The tribe of Manasseh branched itself into two noble families, that of Machir, and the other of Jair; And out of Machir there came worthy men to help in the battle.  
And out of Zebulon they that handle the Pen of the Writer.] Learned men, and skilful Lawyers, such as handle the Pen, these helped forward in the War both (1.) By their Counsel and Advice: and this is none of the smallest aides: One Ulysseses better than many an Ajax. Or (2.) By weapons and outward aid; Such as were wont to handle the Pen of the Writer, they now handle the spear of the Soldier.  
And the Princes of Issachar were with Deborah,] choice and worthy ones, Heads of the People.  
And Issachar.] Not only the Princes, but the rest of the tribe. And also Barak.] He was the Captain, chief in the War, the primum mobile. He was sent on foot into the valley.] He was the Leader of the footmen in the valley. Thus far she commends, in the next words she reproves.  
For the Divisions of Reuben there were great thoughts of heart; why abodest thou among the sheepfolds, to hear the bleat of the flocks? for the divisions of Reuben there were great search of heart.] There were great wonder why Reuben came not out to help their brethren; for the divisions of Reuben, that they should hold back and not accompany the rest of the tribes, many search and inquiries why Reuben came not. This tribe dwelled beyond Jordan in fat and goodly pasture; and they too much minded their cattle, and neglected the care of the Commonwealth. They were hearing the bleat of the sheep, and the bellow of the oxen, when their brethren heard the Alarm of War, the noise of the Trumpet, the beating of the Drum. Why abodest thou among thy sheepfolds? hast thou no care of Israel's troubles, of the bleeding condition of thy brethren? dost thou take more care of thy sheep then of them? see how the fierce enemy like a Wolf, comes to devour them, and proud Sisera is ready to tear them in pieces? wilt thou not take as much care of them as of thy sheep?  
Gilead abode beyond Jordan.] Both the families of Manasseh, Machir and Jair dwelled in Gilead, and possessed it; Now the family of Machir was commended before, so that here is meant of Jair. Or else the words are to be took thus, as an answer to Reuben, why couldst not thou come from beyond jordan as well as Gilead; Gilead abode beyond jordan, and yet he came, and so this tends to Gileads praise, and to Reubens dishonour, the first sense is most genuine.  
And why did Dan remain in ships?] Either 1. To shelter themselves from the enemies, when they heard of jabin and Sisera's coming they slipped themselves away. Or else 2. Dan remained in ships, he minded his own business and merchandise, his traffic and commerce. And why did Dan remain in ships, when all Israel was almost suffering shipwreck?  
Asher continued on the seashore, and abode in his breaches.] The words include a double excuse which Asher had, why it came not to help Israel; 1. They dwelled afar off by the Seashore. 2. Their towns and cities were ruinous and not well fenced, and therefore they stayed at home to defend and fortify themselves, they abode in their breaches; I but there was another breach that Asher might have thought of, a breach of God's Law and Commandment, which enjoined his People mutual love, and a joint opposition of their enemies.  
Zebulun and Naphtali were a People that jeoparded their lives unto the death in the high places of the field. After a more general commendation of some tribes, and reproofs of others, she than comes to a special Encomium of these two, as most eminent in their service, and a more stinging reproof of such as were inexcusably negligent.  
Zebulun and Naphtali reproached their lives, so 'tis in fonte: they esteemed them not worth the having with Israel's ruin: they preferred God's cause before their lives. They reproached their lives.] For it seemed a strange thing to others, and little better than ridiculous, for a small number, a little handful of men, to go against a vast army, enemies clothed with terror, that might even blow them away in less than an hour: And yet they go out against Jabin and Sisera, they fear not his nine hundred chariots of iron. What means Sisera to brandish his glittering sword, to bend his bow, and prepare his deadly arrows? No weapon against them shall prosper. Zebulun and Nephtali, if they were less than they are, they would adventure their lives, and if they perish they perish.  
In the High places of the field.] On Mount Tabor, where they might have a view of Sisera's army, a terrible prospect for Zebulun and Nephtali one would have thought. And yet they march forward with an undaunted courage and resolution. Zebulun and Nephtali, more eminent in their forwardness and obedience, and so have a more singular commendation given them.  
And Meroz has a more bitter curse then any of the rest. God took notice of all the others remissness, and hath left it upon record to the view of all Posterity; I but Meroz has a Curse with a greater emphasis.  
Curse ye Meroz.] The Jews have a Proverb, we must leap up to Mount Gerizim, but creep into Mount Ebal. You know upon Mount Gerizim all the blessings were pronounced by Moses, as upon Mount Ebal all the Curses; So then, you must leap up to Mount Gerizim, be forward and ready to bless; but creep into Mount Ebal, be slow and unwilling to curse; I but where God gives a special command to curse, there you must leap up to Mount Ebal too.  
Gurse ye Meroz, saith the Angel of the lord] This does not come out of any revengeful thoughts, or private respect that Deborah had, but she has a special command to curse them Saith the Angel of the lord] Expositors are dubious, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:— it may be rendered Nuncius Jehovae, and so some take it to be Barak▪ who call▪ d out (as is very like,) this City to the War, but they refused to come; But whether it be meant of an Angel properly, or of any that had a Prophetical Spirit, God's Messenger, his Angel; this we are sure, the drift is to show that this Curse comes by divine authority, by heavenly mandate, by the dictate of the Spirit, Curse ye Meroz; saith the Angel of the Lord.  
Curse ye bitterly.] Curse ye with Cursings, an usual Hebraisme. 
Object.  But how comes Meroz to have a more bitter and sharp Curse then any of the rest that came not? This City was 
Resp.  very near the place where the battle was fought, it was very nigh Mount Tabor, the inhabitants were within the noise of the Trumpet; other tribes had excuses, this City none. And no doubt but they were requested by Barak to help, and yet they came not out.  
Because they came not out to the help of the lord] Why? does the Lord need any aid? And does the God of Hosts need the help of Meroz? Is the hand of Omnipotency abbreviated that it cannot help, or his arm shortened that it cannot save? Does the mighty God call for help, and the great Jehovah need auxiliary forces? what means this holy Prophetess, when she says and repeats this, They came not out to the help of the Lord, etc.  
They that help Israel are said to help the Lord. What is done to the Church, God reckons as done for himself, Inasmuch as ye did it to one of these little ones, you did it unto me; O the infinite goodness of God, that hath conjoined his own glory, and the salvation of his People together! He hath wrought Israel's name in the frame of his own glory; it is for his honour to save Israel; They that come not out to help Israel, they come not out to help the Lord.  
God needs not the help of men, he can save his people miraculously, he did so here; The Stars fought in their courses against Sisera; He can raise a glorious Army of Stars, and can order them as he pleases; they shall all keep their ranks, they fight in their courses against Sisera. How did the Stars fight against him?  
Their beams and influences were their weapons; they wrought impressions in the Air, and raised meteors rain, hail, lightning, thunder; The Stars like bright and eminent Commanders, lead under them an Army of meteors, their trained Soldiers, they set them into their several postures, like the Centurion they say to one, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he comes. If they bid the clouds discharge, they instantly dart out lightning-flashes, and present a volley of thunderclaps; They'll try what they can do with proud Sisera: And if Israel be too weak for them, the Host of Heaven shall fight against them, The Stars fought in their courses against Sisera; I, but all this is no thank to Meroz; nay, it rather aggravates their sin, and so embitters their curse; shall inanimate creatures more sympathise with Israel, than their fellow-brethrens? Shall the Stars fight in their courses, and shall not Meroz stir a foot to help them? And the river Kishon sweeps them away (as dung) that ancient river, the river Kishon, now swelling by reason of the excess of rain, and drowning many of the Canaanites, as the Egyptians were once drowned in the Red-Sea; they sink like lead in the mighty waters. Stars and Rivers fight for them, but Meroz will not help them.  
Against the mighty,] Jabin and Sisera, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, potent, puissant enemies. The Church of God has had always mighty opposers, great enemies; Satan the Prince of the Air, Antichrist and his forces. These and many such like observations lie scattered in the words, and might be gathered out of them, but we will unite them all in this one truth, which is directly aimed at, and intended in them.  

Doct.  Doct Every Christian should be of a public spirit; he is bound under pain of a bitter curse, (as much as in him lies, to promote the cause of God, and to help Israel, to help the Church of God against its mighty enemies.  
we'll branch it into these two particulars.  
1. 'Tis a thingfull of reason and equity, that every one that professes himself an Israelite, should help Israel, that Christians should be of a public spirit; it is but just that Meroz should aid Israel.  
2. How every one may help the Lord against the mighty, and stand for the peace of Zion; by what means they may do this.  
(1.) A Christian should be of a public and enlarged spirit not seeking only himself and his own ends, with a narrow and contracted heart; but he should seek the glory of God, and the good of Zion, of his Church and people.  
1. It is the very nature of goodness to diffuse itself abroad in a spreading and liberal manner; for it does not thus lose any thing, but augments, and increases its being by communicating itself.  
2. You may see some prints and footsteps of this in Nature, some obscure representations of this truth there. The Sun, it does not monopolise its beams, and engross its light; but scatters them abroad, gilds the whole world with them; it shines more for others than itself, it is a public light.  
Look on a fountain, it does not bind in its streams, seal up itself, and enclose its waters, but spends itself with a continual bubbling forth; it streams forth in a fluent, liberal, and communicative manner; it is a public spring.  
Nay natural bodies will part with their own properties, leave their motions; nay, cross their own inclinations for a general good. The Air, a light and nimble body, that mounts upwards, and does naturally ascend; yet for an universal good, rather than there shall be a breach and rupture in nature, a vacuum, it will descend for the stopping of that hiatus. In the body of man, the inferior members will venture themselves for the good of the whole; The hand will be cut off, and lose its own being, rather than the head shall be endangered; you see some shadows of this truth in Nature.  
3. And the weak and glimmering light of Nature shows thus much, that a man is not borne for himself alone; he is a sociable ●reature, and sent into the world for the good of others. The ●oice of an Heathen, A man's country, and his friend, and others challenge great part of him. It is a miserable 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to make his own self the centre of all his actions.  
4. Consider, that every man's private welfare is included in the public. The welfare of Meroz depended upon Israel's safety; what would have become of Meroz, if the rest of their fellow-brethrens had perished? So that it was a part of great folly in Meroz, not to come out to the help of Israel. When the disease seizes upon a vital part, as the head, or the heart, or the like, so as to endanger the whole; then every member is in danger, though for the present they may be free from pain. The well-being of every private man, depends on the public good. A single drop is soon dried up and consumed; I, but a drop in the Ocean when 'tis united to a multitude of other drops, 'tis there more safe; and a drop by itself is weak, and can make no resistance: I, but a drop in the Ocean is terrible. Men have a more safe, and a more honourable being, as joined to the whole, then taken single by themselves. A single drop can do nothing; but a multitude of drops joined together, will make a stream, and carry all before them: A single beam is obscure; but in the Sun the centre of rays, meeting in the public point, they are glorious.  
And these arguments may prevail with you as men, living in common society; but then as Christians.  
I. Consider, that God's children have been always of this disposition, of public spirits, seeking the glory of God, and the good of Zion. Exod. 32. 32. If not, blot me I pray thee out of thy Book; Moses out of a pang of vehement zeal, would part with his own happiness, rather than Israel should perish; If it would make more for the glory of God, he would be content to be damned, or at least to have the beams of Gods favourable presence withdrawn from him. Rom. 9 3. I could wish, that myself were accursed from Christ, (or separated) for my brethren, my kinsmen, according to the flesh, for the Jews, Israelites; which is meant of the poena damni: I could be content to have the face of Christ hid from me for my brethren's sake, as God's face was once hid from Christ upon the Cross; My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? A most strong affection and zeal for the public good. Paul knew what the face of Christ was; how glorious a sight it was, to see God face to face: And he knew what answer God had given to Moses too; Him that sins, him will I blot out of my Book: And yet out of a most ardent desire of the salvation of the Jews, he will part with the face of Christ, so they may be saved; here were public spirits indeed.  
What should I tell you of Vriah that famous Soldier, his brave and heroical resolution; how he would take no complacency in outward things? and mark his reason, 2 Sam▪ 11. 11. The Ark, and Israel, and Judah abide in tents, and my Lord Joab, and the servants of my Lord are encamped in the open fields; as if he should say, What shall the Ark be in danger, and shall Vriah be secure? Or shall my Lord Joab be more forward than I am in Israel's cause? As thou livest, and as thy soul liveth, I will not do this thing; He raps out an Oath like a Soldier, which he might have well spared, but yet he shows a most generous and public spirit; And this was no small aggravation of David's sin.  
137. Psalm; See how the Psalmist and the rest of God's people behave themselves. By the rivers of Babylon; we sat down and wept, when we remembered thee, O Zion! We hanged our Harps upon the Willows in the midst thereof; If I forget thee, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. David had a most delicate touch upon the Harp, a soft and silken touch; He could still Saul's evil spirit with his Music; but if I forget thee, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.  
And when did Jeremy make his Lamentation, that whole book of mourning; but when the glory of Zion was laid in the dust; when jerusalem, the Lady of Nations was made desolate? God's people have been always of public spirits, and have sympathised with the Church.  
II. That you may follow so good example; think whose cause it is: The cause of Israel, is the cause of God; To the help of the Lord, etc. Can you have a better cause? The good of the Church, and the glory of God are knit together by an act of Gods gracious will. So that he that seeks the good of the Church, does in the same act seek the glory of God: And he that helps not Israel, comes not out to the help of the Lord. Now you are bound to maintain the cause of God, and to help the Lord.  
1. By many and several engagements; As creatures at his beck, he has a sovereignty and dominion over you. Not to obey the great God, is to deny his supremacy. You are bound in a way of thankfulness, to stand for him and his cause, by those sweet mercies, those precious pledges of his love, which he every moment heaps upon you; by those many blessings that come swimming to you in the blood of a Saviour.  
2. By many Promises, Vows, Protestations. Your first and Original vow in Baptism, obliges you to maintain the cause of God, and of his Church, against all the enemies thereof. And you have often repeated this Vow, and sealed it again in the Lord's Supper, for you know that's a sealing up of the Covenant; Now what's the Covenant but this, That he shall be your God, and you shall be his people? And then you can't but remember a late Vow that you have made too; the very sum of which was this, to stand for the public good.  
3. Certainty to prosper; it is the cause of God; A Christian is of the surest side, of the winning side. There's none but has a mind to prosper, then pray for the peace of jerusalem, they shall prosper that love thee. There's none can eclipse the glory of God; it's beyond the limited power of a creature, to dim the lustre of his Crown; God will maintain his own cause, or else he should lose of his glory; his mighty Arm will get himself the victory. Christ is the Captain of this Church, and he is the chiefest often thousand, (the Ensign-bearer.) And this is comfort enough for a Christian, the enemies must conquer Christ, before they can overcome his Church. Christ the head of the Church is impregnable. This is the second ground why Christians must stand for the cause of the Church; because 'tis the cause of God, to which they are bound. (1.) By engagements, many and great. (2.) By Vows. (3.) Encouraged with certainty of success.  
III. A Christian's bound to be of a public spirit, by virtue of the communion of Saints. Every Christian's a member of Christ's mystical body, and so must take care for the good of the whole. He that is united to Christ the Head, must be knit also to the other members; He that does not sympathise with the Church, is not of the body; He that can hear of the breaches of Zion, and the decays of jerusalem; He that can see the apples of God's eye pierced through, and not be affected with it, will ye call such members of Christ's body? He that is not truly affected with the bleeding condition of the Christians in Ireland, does virtually and in effect deny this Article of his Creed, The Communion of Saints.  
IV. It is against the Mighty: Christians had need have public spirits, because they have public enemies; the Devil, a public enemy; Antichrist, a public enemy: They are private enough in respect of their malice, and subtlety; but public in force, and opposition. As there is the paw of the Lion for strength, so there is the head of the Serpent for wisdom; but yet the head of the Serpent is broken, their wisdom infatuated: He that is in heaven, can counterplot them, and laugh them to scorn: But yet thus much you may learn of the enemies of the Church, to study the public good: They seek the ruin of the whole, and why should not you seek the welfare of the whole? If they be so sedulous and industrious, so forward and active in a bad cause, will you be negligent and remiss in the best cause, in the cause of God, in the helping of the Lord? All that they do, they'll tell you 'tis for the Catholic cause, they are for the public. What won't a Jesuit do for the Catholic cause? he'll compass Sea and Land to gain one proselyte. They do public mischiefs, and have a malignant and venomous influence into all places where they come; and why should not Christians do as public service for God, as they do for the Devil? Come out therefore against the mighty to the help of the Lord. That which was Meroz his excuse perhaps, because the Canaanites were mighty ones, therefore they durst not come out against them; this God makes the very aggravation of their sin; for if the enemies were mighty, Israel had more need of their help and aid, Curse ye Meroz, saith the Angel of the Lord, etc. And Meroz might have considered, that as there are mighty enemies, so there is a mighty God too, an Almighty God, that can crush proud Sisera, and dash in pieces the strongest enemy. And now by this time you have seen that 'tis but fit and equal for a Christian to be of a public spirit, to come out to the help of the Lord.  
(2.) The manner, how every Christian may promote the public good. And here by way of premisall;  
1. It must be in a lawful and warrantable way They that come out to help the Lord must help him in his own ways, such ways as his word allows, or else, they do not help the Lord, but offend the Lord in breaking his commandments; Job 13. 7. Will you speak wickedly for God, and talk deceitfully for him? Does God's glory depend upon man's sin? does he allow any man to sin for the advancing of his glory? Nay, does he not forbid it, and detest it? It is a clear and undeniable truth of our Saviour; You must not do evil, that good may come of it. A speech of one of the Ancients; You must not tell the least lie, if you could save the whole Church by it. You remember the clause in the Protestation, as far as lawfuy I may; he that seeks the public good in an unlawful course, breaks his Protestation. To the right conducting of an action, besides the intention of an end truly, there must be also the choice of just direct means for the accomplishing of it.  
2. In a prudent and orderly way. They that come out to the help of the Lord, must keep their ranks; The Stars fought in their courses against Sisera. Christian's must keep their several stations; if there be confusion, you can't tell a Canaanite from an Israelite, a friend from a foe. Let every Christian that studies the public good, keep his own place; The Magistrate his; the Ministers theirs; and the people also theirs. And now there are some ways very good and warrantable, by which Christians may come out to the help of the Lord, and to the aiding of Israel.  
(1.) By Prayer. To be sure this is a lawful means; I, and 'tis a prevalent means too, and has great influence upon the public good; Exod. 17. 11. When Moses held up his hand, than Israel prevailed. 'Tis a special benefit that Christians have by the communion of Saints, the prayers one of another. There's a stock of prayers the Church has, and the weakest Christian has a share in it. Thou hast the benefit of many Christians prayer, whose face thou never sawest, whom thou never heard'st of; perhaps he lives in America, or some remote corner of the world; but wherever he be thou hast the benefit of his prayer, as a member of the mystical body. For there's no prayer put up to God for his Church, but it encludes every particular member of the Church in it; so that prayer does wonderfully promote the public good. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem, pray for it, that's the way to have it. And many an one that can use no other means, yet may use this. There's many can't help the Christians in Ireland; but there's no Christian but may pray for them. There's many that can't fight against the Rebels; and yet they can pray against them, to have them restrained and subdued. Many a weak and aged and sickly one, unfit for war, and yet powerful in prayer. And these weapons of our warfare, they are not carnal, but mighty. You can't encounter an enemy; I, but you may thus wrestle with the Almighty. You can't batter down a strong hold; but yet ye can besiege▪ the throne of grace with concentred abilities. You are not fit to be set in a Watchtower, to spy out the approach of an enemy; but yet you may watch unto prayer. And this is a great advantage that Christians have over their enemies; The enemy knows not how to pray; they know how to curse, and swear, and blaspheme the name of God; but they know not how to pray: Or if they do pray, and tell their prayers with their beads, that they may know the number of them; yet their prayer is turned into fin, The prayer of the wicked is an abomination. Let them cry aloud to their Idols, and see if they will hear them; they can't look that God should hear them: For, If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear my prayer. O then let Christians know their own happiness, and make use of this spiritual weapon of prayer, that opposes the enemy more than all other weapons whatsoever: Let them brandish the glittering sword, etc.  
And this is the chief use you are to make of all the news you hear, to know how to order your prayers accordingly. No question more ordinary in men's mouth, then, what news? And I find no fault with the question, it is good and fitting: But news are not to be enquired after only for the satisfying of men's minds, and curiosity; as the Athenians spent all their time in enquiring for some news: But this is the main end of it, to know how to send up your prayers for the good of the Church; and your praises for such mercies as God bestows upon it. All news heard by a public spirit, will stir up prayer or thanksgiving. This is the use you are to make of news; if sad news of the Church's misery and desolation, then send up more fervent prayer, that God would repair the breaches of it, and settle it in a flourishing condition; if welcome news, than praise God for his free goodness, and desire him to perfect the great work which he has begun. This is one special means to promote the public good, the prayer of the righteous. And God always when he intends any great mercy, he pours upon his people a spirit of prayer, he stirs up their hearts in this way; he opens their mouth wide, before he fills it.  
(2.) Self-Reformation. This has great influence upon the public good. And how can you expect a public and glorious Reformation, unless first you reform in private? Look upon the grievances of your own soul; harken unto those many petitions that are put up to you by the Ministers; who beseech you to be reconciled unto God. Every sin adds to wrath; it provokes God, pulls down his judgements, and ripens a Nation for destruction, and has a malignant and venomous influence upon the whole. So then the turning from sin, and reforming your ways, is the means to divert judgements, to bring down mercies, and bring down public good. If there were more private Reformations in men's spirits; there is no doubt, but God would bless the public Reformation. Sin puts more rubs in the way, than any enemy or opposer whatsoever. This is the great Mountain that hinders the going up of the Temple; if this one were but took away, all other would quickly become a plain. They are very injurious to the public good, that go on in a course of sinning, against so gracious a God, that does such great things for us. One sinner destroys much good, as the wise man speaks.  
(3.) United spirits, and a sweet harmony of Affections, graciously consorting together, would help forward the cause of Israel. Jars and dissensions amongst Christians themselves, sound very harshly: For the divisions of Reuben, there were great thoughts of heart. What is there can give greater advantage to an enemy, then to see Israelites fall out amongst themselves? You may learn more wisdom of them that are wiser in their generation, than the children of light; what a straight union and confederacy have they among themselves? Gebal, and Ammon, and Ama'ek, the Philistines, with them that dwell at Tyre. These scales of Leviathan (as that in Job is usually allegorized) are shut together as with a close seal. And if they should be at variance, and discord among themselves; yet they have a sure way of reconciliation, by a joint opposition of the godly. Ephraim against Manesseh, and Manasseh against Ephraim, both against Judah. Herod and Pilate made friends in crucifying Christ. If wicked men can agree in opposing of goodness, why should not Christians in helping forward goodness?  
All ye that come out to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the Mighty; come with united hearts, and agreeing spirits. Why should there be strife between you, seeing you are Brethren?  
And then consider; What will not united forces do, when you shall join to the work of the Lord with one consent, with one shoulder? What is it that this union won't bring to pass? It will strike terror to the Church's enemies, and strengthen the hearts of friends: It will mightily promote the public good, and tend to the glory of jerusalem. If men would but lay out themselves, and their several gifts and abilities in one general aim for the advantage of their Master, and good of their fellow-servants; what glorious times should we then see?  
This is one clause in the Protestation, to stand for the union of the three Kingdoms.  
(4.) I might add that, with outward aid too, you are bound to promote the public good; with liberal contribution to relieve the necessity of the Christians, as the Church of Macedonia gave above her abilities. And also such as by authority shall be sent forth against the Popish-Rebells, they are to fight with courage, and alacrity, for 'tis for the cause of God; They come out to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the Mighty.  
And now for a word of Application.  

Use. 1.  It is for the just reproof of most men, that mind not at all the public good: How do they think to avoid the curse of Meroz, seeing they come not out to the help of the Lord, & c.? There is a principle of corrupt self-love in men, that makes them of narrow and contracted spirits; All their aims are for themselves, and their own ends; they do not mind the good of the Church. If they hear but of a worldy loss, some ship cast away, and their estate be weakened, this will pierce and affect their spirits; 'twill sad and darken their joy: But they can hear of ruins of the Church, the breaches of Zion; that the Church has many rollings, and commotions, and not be wrought upon, not be much moved with it. Men are more affected with their own private good, then with the public; and more moved with private miseries, then public. If they themselves be in the least danger, or some of their near friends, than you shall have mourning, and sighing, and lamentation: But if the Church lie a bleeding, the Saints, (those precious ones) be killed all the day long, and accounted as sheep for the slaughter; they can be merry enough for all this. How many are there that have not shed a tear for Ireland! That have not spent a sigh for them, nor put up a prayer for them! God he has a Bottle for your tears, and he knows how many you have put into it; I am sure it will hold a great many more than you have shed. I speak not so much for outward weeping, there's many perhaps can't shed a tear upon any occasion: But I call for a spirit of mourning, a sympathising spirit; a spirit took up with the public good, as its best employment O how many are there, that this bitter curse of Meroz will fall heavy upon! And upon your days of humiliation, be sure to humble yourselves for this; your want of a public spirit, your not praying for the peace of jerusalem. How do you know but that, if you had sent up more prayers to heaven, God might have freed the distressed Christians by this time? As they are guilty of the Christians blood in an high degree, that shed it in a most inhuman manner; so I know not, how they can excuse themselves from some guilt of it, that do not help them by prayers, and endeavours as much as in them lies.  
2. It is against all such as are in a kind of indifferency, and neutrality; they neither are for one nor other. What is this but the very same case with Meroz? Meroz did not fight against Israel, it did not fight for the Canaanites; no, but it did not come out to the help of Israel, and therefore it has this bitter curse. Vain men that think to content themselves with this, that they do not hurt: but every man that does not good, does hurt, he most do either one or other; the soul is not idle, it is either doing good or evil.  
Suppose that a man did no hurt, yet this is not enough, unless he do s good too: for there are sins of Omission, as well as of Commission. Not doing of public good, is a public hurt.  
3. By way of Gradation à majori ad majus. If there be such a bitter curse upon Meroz for their negligence, and remissness in duty, for not coming out against the Mighty, what severe judgements and dregs of wrath shall be poured out upon all them that come out against the Lord, that are against the public good, that wish ill to Zion, that would fain see her in the dust, that hate and persecute Christians, that oppose the power of Religion, and the life of the Gospel, that are in the very gall of bitterness? All the curses that are written, and not written shall flame against them; and the vials of God's fiercest wrath shall be emptied upon them. Meroz's curse is bitter; but in respect of theirs, sweet and easy.  
Bless God for men of public spirits; for Zerubbabels and Jehoshuah's, 
Use. 2.  such as are building God a Temple; Pray God to increase the number of public spirits, such as may come out to the help of the Lord. As there's a great and bitter curse laid upon Meroz, for being negligent in the cause of God, so there are choice and eminent blessings for such as are forward and active in it. God will abundantly recompense all the labour of love, which any shall show for his name; Their labour shall not be in vain in the Lord.   

THE White Stone: OR, A Learned and Choice TREATISE OF Assurance: Very useful for all, but especially weak BELIEVERS.  2 PET. 1. 10. 
Wherefore the rather, Brethren, give diligence to make your Calling and Election sure.  
ASsurance of salvation is a truth of great and precious consequence, of sweet and comfortable influence into the whole life of a Christian: A truth which has scarce had liberty to unmask and show itself in former times, and so has seldom or never been fully treated of: A truth which could never be more welcome and seasonable then in times of danger and uncertainty; when all other things are in a doubtful and wavering condition, then to make our calling and election sure; to set up a spiritual Militia, and to put the soul in a posture of defence, in such an heavenly preparation, as it may be fit to meet with all conditions; He shall not be afraid of evil tidings, his heart is fixed trusting in God: He is just like the Philosopher's good man 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, foursquare, that, cast him where you will, like a Die, he falls always sure and square; He's built upon the same foundation that the whole Church of God is; He's built upon a Rock, and though the Waves dash, and the winds rise, though the storm increase, and the floods beat in, yet the house stands, the foundation's sure, 'tis built upon a Rock, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. I'll make him a pillar in the Temple of my God, as Christ promises to the Church of Philadelphia; even like one of those Pillars in Solomon's Temple: The name of the one was Jachin, and of the other Booz; nothing but stability and strength, as the words imply; Christian Assurance fortifies the soul, and prepares it against all conditions.  
Now, as for the drift of our Apostle in this chapter, 'twas to persuade the Christian Churches of ●onous, Ga●atia, Cappadocia, Asia, Bythinia, to whom he wrote that they would be fruitful and abundant in the graces of God, that they would grow in grace, and add grace to grace, and so to increase in them all, till they came to a full and perfect stature in Christ For ●e that lacks these, (saith the Apostle, is blind, and cannot see afarr● off▪ he is poorblind, and cannot see so far as heaven and heavenly things: And then he is forgetful too of the very first principles and rudiments of Grace; he forgets that he was purged from his former sins in the Lavour of Regeneration, in Baptism, when he first entered into Covenant with God.  
Wherefore do ●e rather give diligence▪ to make your calling, etc. You that have a spiritual eye, and an enlightened soul, and can discern the things of God, and you that are mindful of the Covenant made with him, do you, brethren, give, etc. for this if any thing will make you fruitful in the works of Grace; for by these you must maintain your Assurance; these are the fruits and evidences of your solvation; the fruits of the Spirit, and the first fruits of eternal life. Christians that make their Calling and Election sure▪ will and must be fruitful in good works. The Papists interpose 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in this verse; and Beza says indeed that he found it in two ancient copies, but though it be left out in the letter, yet we include it in the sense; good reason to leave it out in the text, because all the Greek copies do, two only excepted; but yet we take it in in the interpretation, and freely acknowledge that no Christian can be assured of his salvation, who is not fruitful and abundant in good works, as Fulke and Carthwright do very well satisfy the Rhemists' Translation.  
In the words you have (1▪) An usual compellation, Brethrer. (2.) An Apostolical exhortation, and that to a double duty, one subordinate to another.  
The (1.) and principal in intention, to make your calling and election sure▪ The (2.) (which is a means to the former,) to give diligence. And if you look upon the first again, you shall find in it. (1.) A propriety, your calling and election. (2.) A method and order, first your calling▪ and then your election.  
As for two of the particulars, we'll but point at them, because they are not so properly intended in the words. For  
The compellation is frequent and obvious in every Epistle; and shows  
1. An Apostolical Sua●a, by which they were wont to wind and insinuate themselves into the affections of the people, to engratiate themselves with them; for affection does strongly engage the judgement. And all Rhetoric is little enough to win hearts and prevail upon some men's spirits.  
2. An Apostolical meekness: Peter a Star of the first magnitude, yet calls the lesser Sporades his brethren; A glorious and eminent Christian, a tall Cedar in Lebanon, yet acknowledges the meanest and lowest Christians his brethren. He learned this of his Lord and Master, who was not ashamed to call them brethren; And shall the disciple be above his Lord? 'Twere well if the Pope▪ who will needs be Saint Peter's successor, would follow him in this. And who art thou, O profane Ishmael, that scoff'st at the children of the promise under this very name and notion of brethren?  
And then as for the propriety, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, your calling and election.  
1. None can be assured of another man's salvation, unless it be of such whom the Scripture tells us were in the state of Grace; whose sincerity is made famous to all the world; to whom the Spirit has set its broad seal, and given them a public Testimony that they were within the Covenant: for others we know in general, that there are a select and peculiar company whom God has chosen out as his jewels, but we cannot say certainly and infallibly of such a particular person, of any Individuum, that he is a chosen vessel. Of some 'tis evident and apparent, that for the present, they are not in the state of Grace; we are sure that as yet they are not efficaciously called, but we know not whether they be chosen; for others we have great hopes, and an high degree of probability, that they are truly born again, but yet we have no absolute certainty; for Hypocrisy will go so far, as that the best Critics may be deceived. And a man can never tell certainly another man's sincerity, unless he could supply the place of Conscience. An Hypocrite may spin so fair a thread, as that it may deceive his own eye, he may admire the cobweb, and not know himself to be the Spider; how much more easy may he deceive a slander by? And as for any extraordinary spirit of discerning, I know no ground for it, nor any promise of it in the Scriptures.  
You'll say, this takes much from the communion of Saints, and from the sweetness of Christian society, if we cannot tell who are true members of the Mystical body, fellow-brethrens and fellow-heirs of the same promise.  
1. Though we cannot tell absolutely and infallibly, yet we may know very probably; we know there are such a peculiar people, a chosen generation, a Royal Priesthood, and we know that such and such are the likeliest in the world to be of this number, so as we have no reason to distrust them.  
2. We must commend much of this to God's providence, who very seldom suffers Hypocrites to go undetected; he that is the great searcher of hearts will be sure to meet with them: he hates a rotten heart, and will be sure to make it odious.  
3. 'Tis fitting that this and many other privileges should be reserved for heaven, that so we may long after that the more. There shall be a pure and unmixed communion, the perfect beauty of holiness. Nothing shall enter there that makes a lie, nothing of Hypocrisy; but glorious Angels and glorified Saints sunning themselves in the presence of God, shall keep company together to all eternity.  
2. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ Christians are chiefly to look to their own calling and election. They are indeed bound to promote the good of others, and to look upon their lives with such Rules as Christianity allows; but they must be sure to dwell at home, and be acquainted with their own breasts, to make their own calling and election sure▪ for they cannot be sure of another man's condition, so as they may be of their own.  
And thus we have dispatched those two particulars which lay more collateral in the words, and were not directly intended in them. We now come to the very mind and drift of the Text, which branches itself into these four propositions▪ that will fully explain the nature of Assurance, though we keep within the bounds of the Text: It streams into these four particulars.  

Observ. 1.  1. A Christian may be assured of his salvation.  

Observ. 2.  2. Assurance of salvation requires all diligence.  

Observ. 3.  3. Assurance of salvation deserves all diligence, both employed in Give diligence.  

Observ. 4.  4. The way to make our Election sure, is first to make our calling sure.  
And now you may look upon the Text, as on a pleasant Vine, situated in a fruitful place, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, i. e. in the horn of the Son of Oil or fatness, as the Prophet speaks, you may sit under the shadow of it, and its fruit will be sweet unto you. For you see how it has spread itself into spacious and goodly branches, such as are all laden with fair and swelling clusters▪ clusters of Canaan, that are ripened with those heavenly Sunbeams that shine out upon them; and richly filled with all spiritual sweetness. And this fruit of the Vine will cheer the heart of man to all eternity. As for us, we'll be sure to prune off all such sproutings and luxuriancies of style▪ as may any way steal from the sap and strength of so great a truth in hand, as the Hebrews call those sproutings, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, i. e. little Epicures, always feasting upon the sweetness of the tree, and putting the root to continual expenses: we'll prune off all these. And if there be any clusters lie lurking under the leaves, truth's not so obvious to every eye, we'll (if we can) spy them out. The Vintage will be long, we shall gather but a cin star at a time, and press it in the Application.  

Observ. 1.  A Christian may be assured of his Sa●●ation, for Saint Peter would never exhort them to give diligence, for an impossibility, for that which could not be obtained. We'll move in this order, and show  
1. What Assurance is.  
2. Arguments for Assurance.  
3. The manner how Christians are assured.  
4. The special times of assurance.  
5. Make Application.  
I. And here first, what Assurance is.  
'Tis a reflex act of the soul, by which a Christian clearly sees, that he is for the present in the state of grace, and so an heir apparent to glory; or in the words of the text, by which he knows his Calling and Election.  
'Tis a reflex act, and so  
1. Assurance is situated in the souls most noble, most closeted, most private▪ and most spiritual operation.  
1.) Reflex acts are the most noble and most royal operations, the most rational and judicious acts of a most intelligent Spirit. Reason is now in its exaltation, it sits upon the Throne, and exercises a Judge-like power; all the faculties of the soul must appear before its Tribunal, and give up a strict account, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the Pythagoreans were wont to pose and catechise themselves: your inferior sensitive creatures can go poring on upon a present object, and blunder on in a direct way, but are far enough from any reflex acts; although some talk of reflexivenesse in sense too, (as to see that they see, or the like) but 'tis but a fancy of their own; Sensitive Creatures could never reach so high as a reflex act; and indeed sensual men know not what belong unto it, but the reasonable soul can retire into itself, and take a view and survey of its own actings.  
2.) It is the most secret and retired operation; the soul withdraws and bids the body farewel, and even here becomes an anima separata: it retires into its Closet, and bolts its self up, where none can peep in, none can eavesdrop it.  
3.) The most refined and spiritual working of all, this is most abstracted from matter. The soul here does not commerce with outward drossy objects, but looks upon itself, fixes its eye upon its own face. This is the most spiritual employment of the soul, which does most strongly argue its immortality, and shows it to be a spark of Divinity: How does the prime and fountain Being spend all Eternity, but in looking upon his own transcendent and glorious Essence? in viewing the bright Constellation of his Attributes, & seeing some shadowy and languishing Representations of himself in the glass of the Creatures? 'Tis one of the chief works of a Christian, to reflect upon himself, Vita est in se reflexio; as the grave Moralist Seneca speaks. The Prodigal came to himself, when he came to reflex acts▪ so 1 King▪ 8. 47. When they shall turn to their own hearts, etc.  
II. But yet this working of the soul is but weak and transient, 'tis fleeting and desultory, it quickly vanishes; which shows a great disorder and irregularity in the Spirit, that that which is the noblest and most proper operation, that borders upon Divinity, men are least verest in it. How rare is it for men to reflect upon their own conditions, to enter into an exact trial and examination of their own ways? Radius reflexus languet, as the Optics speak; The beam begins to be weary, and is ready to faint, it gives a weak and languishing Representation: 'tis true of intellectual beams too, radius reflexus languet. O how quickly are men weary of serious thoughts and considerations? They look upon them as melancholy interruptions, turbida intervalla. You had need of good arguments to persuade men to entertain a serious thought; outward objects, these divert the mind, and take it off from its greatest work. As a man that sees his natural face in a glass, (as St. James speaks) goes his way, and presently forgets what manner of man he was. The soul scarce knows its own visage, it looks abroad and is a stranger to itself. Many a man's soul has scarce looked upon itself all his life-time.  
III. It consists in a reflex act, (1 Joh. 2. 3. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.) and so differs from faith; it is one thing to believe, & another thing to know that I believe. Our Divines go somewhat too far, (Calvin, Perkins, etc.) when they put all justifying faith in a full persuasion. Ames says, 'tis when they deal with the Papists, who put it in a bare assent: but (me thinks) they should rather be more wary there, lest they give the enemy too much advantage. I rather think, that being men eminently pious, it was as they found it in their own souls, but all are not so strong in Christ▪ Assurance is the top and triumph of faith: faith, that's our victory, by which we overcome the world: but assurance, that's our triumph, by which 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, we are more than conquerors. 'Tis flos fidei, the very lustre and eminency of faith. Faith that's the Root, Assurance is the Top-branch, the flourishing of faith, faith with a gloss upon it. Justifying faith, that does not only dwell in the understanding, in nudo assensu, but requires an act of the will too, which must embrace a promise: indeed it calls for an act resulting from the whole soul, which must receive Christ offered unto it: but now assurance consists only in the mind, and so there you have the difference between faith of Adherence, and faith of Assurance. The first is an act of the whole soul, the latter is a work of the mind only; it ariseth è sensu quodam spirituali; whereby we know and perceive that we believe. And when I say every believer may be assured of his salvation: I don't say that every believer is assured of it; No, every one is to labour for it, to give diligence, as our Apostle speaks: but every one has not yet obtained it: Assurance is not of the Essence of a Christian●; A man may be a true child of God, and certainly saved, though he have not Assurance; He can have little sweetness and comfort without it, little joy and peace, but yet he may be in a safe though in a sad condition. 'Tis required to the bene esse, not to the esse of a Believer.  
1. For the Promise is made to the direct act, and not to the reflex. Believe, and thou shalt be saved, that's the voice of the Gospel: Not, know that thou dost believe. Now there is many a weak Christian that has faith, and yet does not know that he has it; Faith like a grain of mustardseed, lies hid for a while, but it has a vigorous and operative spirit, and will work out in time, and spread itself into goodly branches. The least degree of faith, if it be true, brings salvation, but it does not bring assurance.  
2. Many true Christians are in a state of desertion: all their light is eclipsed▪ their joy and comfort is put out. Nay, they look upon God as an enemy; they are so far from being assured of their salvation, as that they verily think themselves in a lost condition, and yet all this while are in a true state of grace. Their condition is cloudy and dark, and very uncomfortable for the present, but yet 'tis safe; they are true believers, and yet far enough from assurance. An excellent place in Isaiah for this, Isa. 50. 10. Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that walketh in darkness and hath not light? let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God; some may truly fear God, and yet walk in darkness, and have no light, not the least glimpse of assurance no beam of God's favourable countenance, yet let him trust in the Lord, and stay himself upon his God. He may do this though he has no light, he may multiply direct acts, though he has no reflex acts. And here he may lay all the stress of his salvation, lean upon the grace of God in Christ, and with a sweet recumbency rest himself upon his God.  
And this consideration may strengthen many a bruised reed, and revive many a drooping Spirit, who for the present do not know that they believe, their case may be good for all this. Thou mayest be a true believer, though thou art but a weak believer, nay, though thou think thyself no believer; I do not speak this that any should rest in this condition; no, this were against the text; All must give diligence to make their calling and election sure: And a Christian can have little or no quiet, till he attain to assurance.  
And thus you have seen the nature of Assurance, we shall in the next place prove, that a Christian may be assured of his salvation.  
1. Ab esse ad posse. Many a Christian has been, and is assured of his salvation. Scarce any eminent Christian in the whole Book of God, but has set his Seal to this truth by his own particular experience. This is so clear as the adversaries themselves cannot deny, but that many choice ones have had a full and satisfying light springing in upon their soul, and clearing their eternal condition to them. But they say 'tis by way of extraordinary Revelation, a special Privilege vouchsafed to some few of God's choicest Worthies by a rare indulgence. But this is spoken gratis, and is contrary to the present experience of many thousands of Christians; 1 John 5. 13. The very drift of St. John's Epistle, is that Christians might have assurance. And besides, those mediums by which Christians attain to Assurance▪ are common to all: All of them have the Spirit dwelling in them: all have the fruits of the Spirit, and a sweet testimony of their own Spirits; though some have it in a weak measure and cannot reach to a Plerophery: all come not to this full assurance; but yet these are the usual ways, by which men attain to it, which have nothing in them of extra ordinary Revelation: they are via Regia, and yet via trita too. Add to this the scope of the text. St. Peter exhorts all to give diligence to make their Calling and Election sure, which, to what purpose were it, if it came only by special & extraordinary Revelation, which does not depend upon their diligence?  
2. Search into the nature of faith itself, and you will see that it does much tend to assurance, and has some vicinity with it. There's a double act of faith, as the most acute Ames observes▪ (1.) The actus primus, by which I believe in Christ for the remission of my sins, and justifying of my person, which is properly justifying faith▪ (2.) Actus ex fide emanans, by which I believe that my sins are remitted, which does necessarily presuppose the former act: for thou hast no more reason to believe that thy sins are remitted then any other, till thou hast first received Christ for the Remission of thy sins. And this is contained in the Article of the Creed, I believe the remission of sins; not only in general, for this the devils believe & yet tremble: but the Christian peculiarizes it, and draws sweetness out of it, I believe the forgiveness of my sins▪ And of this latter 'tis meant, that fidelis certus esse potest ●ertitudin● fidei de Remissione peccatorum, Rom. 5. 1. Being justified by faith, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a sweet 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and holy security of Spirit, for Assurance is nothing but apex fidei, the highest degree of faith. And 'tis the speech of Aquinas, Quicunque habet scientiam vel fidem, certus est se ●abere, nam de ratione fidei est, ut homo sit certus de his quorum h●bet fidem. Faith does of its own accord raise and advance itself to Assurance, and that by reason of the applying and appropriating virtue which is in it; 'Tis faith's Idiom, My Lord, and my God: by a sweet Monopoly it engrosses all to its self; and yet leaves enough for others. Now a man that strongly grasps a Jewel in his hand, knows that he has it; The hand of faith lays hold on Christ, and knows that it receives him: so the want of Assurance in a Believer does merely flow from the weakness of faith, for though it be true, that to believe, and to know that I believe, be two distinct acts: yet this you must know and observe, that the strength and clearness of a direct act, will necessarily infer a reflex act. Those truths which I do clearly and evidently know, I also know that I know them. And that which I strongly believe, I know that I believe it: So the want of assurance comes from the imbecility of Faith. And the Papists that place Faith only in a mere assent, may well deny Assurance; for they take away that clasping and closing power by which it should unite itself with its object.  
3. From the nature of the promises: for this is the drift of the promises, (as 'tis Hebr. 6. 18) that the heir● of promise might have strong consolation: Now a believer can have but weak and unstable comfort without Assurance. What if all the clusters of Canaan were laid on an heap? What if all the Cordials of the Gospel were strained into one cup? were the soul any thing the better if it must only Tantalise, see them and want them? What sweetness can a Christian draw from a promise till he knows that it belongs unto him? Will this enrich a man, to know that there are Pearls and Diamonds in the world? Will this satisfy a fainting Israelite, to know that there is a Canaan, a land that flows with milk and honey, although (it may be) he shall ne'er come near't? Nay, is it not a greater sting and vexation for the soul to think I know there are pure fountains and pleasant streams, but yet I may die with thirst? there are spiritual dainties, and precious delicacies, but I am not sure to have one taste of them▪ many a promise looks with a pleasant and propitious eye, but 'tis not fixed upon my soul; so that take away a Christians interest and propriety in a promise, and what becomes of his consolation? God has given his word, his oath, his seal, his earnest, and all to this very end, that a poor Christian may be assured of his salvation, that he might have strong and vigorous consolation; so that to deny him this, is to annihilate the word of God, to frustrate the oath of God, to evacuate the seal of God, and as much as in them lies to make him lose his earnest, and to leave the soul in an intricate and perplexed condition.  
4. From the nature of Christian hope; There's a vast difference between the Moralists hope, and that which is the Theological grace, and yet this is scarce took notice of; they require these three ingredients into the object of hope: that it must be (1) bonum▪ (2.) futurum, (3.) incertum; but Christian hope is certain & infallible, it looks upon good as to come, and as certain to come; indeed 'tis nothing but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Clem. Alexand. elegantly, blood running in the veins of Faith; if hope expire, Faith will presently bleed to death. That good which Faith sees, Hope waits for; Faith eyes it as present, but yet at a distance, and Hope tarries for it till it come. Christian hope is nothing but a waiting and expectation of a certain good; you have a pregnant text for this in Hebr. 6. 19 Which Hope we have as an Anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast. Hope were but a poor Anchor if it should leave the soul to the courtesy of a wave, to the clemency of a Rock, to the disposing of a storm. Hope were but a weak Anchor if it should let the soul be lost with uncertainties, if it should leave it in danger of shipwreck. ay, but this Anchor is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and it pierces within the veil, it will be sure to have fast hold, 'twill fix upon heaven itself, upon the sanctum sanctorum. See another, Rom. 5. 2. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Now that's a poor glory to triumph in uncertainties▪ to triumph before the victory; little cause of joy and exultation, till the soul be provided for eternity. I can tell you the very possibility of being damned, is enough to extinguish joy; so that till the soul come to be in a safe condition, safe for all eternity, and till it know itself to be in this safe condition, 'tis so far from being joyful, as that it cannot tell how to be quiet. A probable hope will bear up and support the soul, a door of hope in the valley of Anchor: but it will not quiet and satisfy the soul. The least dawning of hope in the initials of grace, does mightily cherish and encourage the soul. O how pleasant are the eye▪ lids of the morning! how welcome is the daybreak after a dark and disconsolate night! Nay, the very possibility of being saved was that which first drew us all to look after heaven; the very consideration, that there was Balm in G●lead; But the weary soul will ne'er rest here; the Dove will ne'er take this for an Ark: No the beams of God's love will shine out stronger and brighter upon the soul, and ripen his hope into assurance. Christian hope when 'tis in its full vigour, is all one with assurance, Rom. 5. 5. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but if hope could be frustated, it than might make ashamed: disappointment would cause a blush; hope differred will make the heart sick, and uncertain hope will scarce make the soul well; a Christians hope is not like that of Pandora, which may fly out of the box, and bid the soul farewel: no, 'twill ne'er vanish, till it be swallowed up in fruition. The hope of the Hypocrite, 'tis as his righteousness, like the morning-dew: but the hope of a Christian 'tis like the morning-light, the least beam of it shall commence into a complete Sunshine, 'tis Aurora ga●dii, and it shall shine out brighter and brighter till perfect day. We shall further clear this truth, if you consider the manner how Christians are assured of their salvation, the third thing we propounded.  
1. By the graces of God which are in them, those precious seeds of immortality, and the Prints of the Spirit, by which they are sealed to the day of Redemption. Grace is the Spirits stamp by which it marks the soul for its own; The first-fruits of the Spirit, the least grace, if true and sincere, is sufficient to salvation, and therefore the sense of the least grace is sufficient to Assurance.  

Object.  But how shall the soul know that it has these graces in truth, and not in shadow and colour only? how shall it be certain that these are not counterfeit and painted?  

Sol.  There might be given many signs and characters of true grace, that it must flow from a principle of sincerity, from a principle of love, that it must be conformable to the grace of Christ; But all this will not satisfy, for the soul will still question, how shall I know that my graces are such? so than that which we must ultimately resolve it into, is that in Rom. 8. 16. For in the mouth of two or three witnesses every thing shall be established; Now we have here two witnesses omni exceptione majores, we have a double Testimony, a twin-Testimony. The same Spirit beareth witness with our Spirits that we are the Sons of God; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he confirms what the other says; both the witnesses do fully agree, and make up one entire testimony, the soul may say here, as Paul, Rom. 9 1. I speak the truth, I lie not, my Conscience bearing me witness by the Holy Ghost.  
The whole work of Assurance is summed up in this Practical Syllogism, Whosoever believes shall be saved: but I believe; and so shall certainly be saved. The Assumption is put out of doubt.  
1. Conscience comes in with a full testimony: And if natural Conscience be a thousand witnesses, then sure an enlightened and sanctified Conscience can be no less than ten thousand▪ 1 John 3. 10. He that believes has a witness in himself, a Certificate in his own breast, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: for as the same Apostle, 1 John 3. 2. Beloved, if our heart condemn us not, then have we confidence towards God. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here is the same with Conscience, for the Hebrews have no other word for Conscience but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. So then, if our heart acquit us, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, we have as much liberty as we can desire. It fears not now the edge of the law, nor the fiery darts of Satan: it doth not stagger with sense of its own weakness and unworthiness, but comes with confidence to the Throne of grace.  

Object. 1.  Jer. 17. 9 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Supplantativum Cor prae omnibus, so Arias Montanus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, & inscrutahile, desperabile, so Hierome and our Translation, desperately wicked: 'tis properly insa●abile. Some think Paul alludes to this place, and does explain it in Rom. 2. 5. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The Seventy read the words, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ & translate it accordingly.  

Sol. 1.  1. Now as for the mind of the place: I find Expositors of great name and worth, understanding it of the unregenerate heart, of the heart of man, that is in the state of corrupt nature, of whom 'tis said, that All the imaginations of the thoughts of man's heart, are altogether evil continually.  

Sol. 2.  2. The drift of the text is to show the deceitfulness of men's hearts in respect of others, for 'tis brought in by way of Objection. The Jews they are cunning and subtle, and can delude the Prophets, and so think to evade the Curse. No; but I the Lord search the hearts: I have a fair window, an open prospect into the most reserved Spirit: 'tis as clear as Crystal to my eye.  

Sol. 3.  3. Yet 'tis true, that the most sincere heart is very deceitful, the heart of a David, of a man after Gods own heart, is full of windings and turnings, and many deviations, such secret passages as himself knows not of. For who hath known the error of his ways? No man yet had such a piercing insight into his own soul▪ as to be acquainted with every motion of it. None can so anatomize his own Spirit, that it shall be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, so as every vein and nerve and muscle shall be obvious and apparent to his eye; But what does this hinder, but that the general frame and bent of the Spirit, the bias and inclination of the soul may be clearly known? The soul knows which way its faculties stream with most vehemency. Conscience cannot be bribed, 'twill give in true judgement, especially an illight'ned Conscience. There's none, but if he search and examine his own soul in a strict and impartial manner, may know whether he be sincere and cordial or no. There's none but may know the general frame and temper of his Spirit, 1 Cor. 2. 11. Who knows the things of a man, but the Spirit of a man that is in him? The Testimony of Conscience is certain and infallible. Many a wicked man by this is assured, that for the present he is in a miserable and damnable condition; he knows certainly that as yet he is out of the Covenant; and hence many times there are lightning flashes of terror fly in his face, the very sparks of hell compass him about. Does not thy Conscience often tell thee, O profane wretch, that as yet thou art a child of wrath, and galloping to damnation with a full Career? why then may not the heart of a Christian tell him as certainly▪ that he is a child of God by Adoption and an heir of Promise? nay, speak, O Christian, where e'er thou art, and speak aloud that we may hear thee, does not thine own soul tell thee that thou art in a sure and happy condition? so sure as nothing shall be able to separate thee from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Why are Christians so often enjoined, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to try their own hearts, to search their Spirits, if that after all their diligence they can't tell what to think of them? All uses of examination were vain and frivolous, which yet are the very life and spirits of preaching▪ And Ames tells▪ us of a donum discretionis▪ which Christians have, by which they can discern true grace from counterfeit. There are certain 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ by which they may distinguish them, and judge of them in themselves, though not in others certainly.  

Object. 2.  If all thus by the Testimony of Conscience may know their own frame of Spirit whether they be upright or no; why then are not all true Christians assured of their salvation? what have they not their consciences and hearts about them?  

Sol. 1▪  1. Many are not sufficiently acquainted with their own Spirits, they do not keep▪ so strict a watch over themselves, they are not versed in their own hearts▪ they don't try and search their ways, they have riches and a treasure, and do not know of it.  

Sol. 2.  2. It is in so great and weighty a matter▪ Eternity does so amaze and swallow up the thoughts, as that they are ready to tremble▪ where they are certain and secure; A man on the top of a tower knows that he is safe enough, and yet when he looks down, he is afraid of falling.  
3. Conscience sometimes gives a dark and cloudy testimony, when 'tis disquieted and charged with new guilt, the soul can't so clearly read its evidences. And then it begins to question its condition. It may be it has dealt hypocritically in some one particular; and now it begins to question all its sincerity.  
We do not say then that Conscience does always give a clear and full Testimony, but sometimes it does, and that with absolute certainty.  
2. Now comes in the second witness, and the great and supreme testimony of the Spirit himself, witnessing with our Spirits that we are the Sons of God, Rom. 8. 16. we render it, the same Spirit, but in the fountain it is the Spirit itself, not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, not only the gifts and graces of the Spirit, but the Spirit itself.  

Object.  This Testimony seems to be coincident with the other, for a man can't tell his own sincerity: 'tis the Spirit that must reveal a man to himself; The soul can't see its own face unless the Spirit unmask it; The Spirit is more present and conversant with the soul, than the soul is with itself. He does not only know our hearts, but he is greater than our hearts, and knows all things.  

Sol.  We'll easily grant, that to the least motion in spirituals, there is necessarily required the concurrence of the Holy Ghost; but withal, we say that there's a mighty difference between the working of the Spirit, and the Testimony of the Spirit. There's a powerful and efficacious work of the Spirit, when faith is wrought in the soul: but yet there is not the Testimony of the Spirit, for every believer has not presently the Seal set to him; so that though the Testimony of our own spirit cannot be without the help and influence of the Spirit, yet 'tis clearly distinct from the Testimony of the Spirit; for here the Spirit does enable the soul to see its graces by a present light, by the soul's light; But when it comes with a Testimony, than it brings a new light of its own, and lends the soul some auxiliary Beams, for the more clear and full revealing of it, so that you see according to that plain text in the Romans, There are two distinct Testimonies, the Spirit witnessing with our spirits; And St. John is most express, Beloved, if our hearts condemn us not, then have we confidence towards God. Now the Testimony of the Spirit is  
1.) A clear Testimony, a full and satisfying light springs in upon the soul, scatters all clouds, all doubts and questions; 'tis as evident as any demonstration; 1 John 3. 2●. By this we know that he dwells in us, by the Spirit which he hath given us. Christ when he went to heaven, he left the Comforter, not only to the Church in general, but to every particular soul that believes, to print his love upon the soul, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Chrysost▪ If a Creature, though never so glittering, should tell men so, there might still be some hesitancy; I, but the Spirit witnesses. The secret and inward Testimony of the Spirit is as strong and efficacious; nay, more powerful than if 'twere with an outward voice. If an Angel from heaven were sent on purpose to a Christian by Christ himself: Go tell him that I love him, that I shed my blood for him, etc. 'twere not so certain.  
2.) A sure Testimony, for 'tis the witness of the Spirit, who can neither deceive, nor be deceived, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, sufficientissimum Testimonium, as Cajetan.  
1▪ He can't deceive, for he is Truth itself.  
2. He can't be deceived, for he is all Eye, Omniscience itself: And he does 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he dwells in the breast and bosom of God: he is fully acquainted with the mind of God, and he reveals it to the soul. The Papists make the Spirits Testimony to bring but a conjectural certainty. But the most renowned Perkins answers them, (1.) That 'tis such a certainty as makes them Cry Abba Father: not only think so, and speak so, but with all courage, confidence, intention of Spirit, Cry Abba Father. (2.) It is opposed to the Spirit of bondage, and therefore takes away doubtings and tremble. (3.) The very end why the Holy Ghost comes to the soul, is to make all sure, and therefore is called a seal and an earnest. God has given us the earnest of the Spirit, and he will not lose his earnest. Now he assures the soul  
1. By a powerful Application of the promise, for as faith does appropriate the Promise on our part, so the Spirit applies it on God's part. As Satan, that lying Spirit, casts in doubts, and fears, and tremble, and working upon the remainder of corruption, plots against the Peace and well-being of the soul; so this holy Spirit, by the comforting working upon that principle of grace, which he himself hath planted in the heart of a Christian, does study and contrive the welfare of a Believer. And as the Spirit of bondage does strongly apply wrath and the curse; so this sweet Spirit of Adoption applies grace and mercy. The Spirit of bondage strikes terror into the soul, by a mighty Application of wrath; this curse flames against thee; this threatening is shot off against thee; these vials of wrath are prepared for thy soul: So the Spirit of Adoption does set on strong and vigorous apprehensions of mercy; this pear●e of price, 'tis to enrich thee; these Evangelical cordials, are to revive thee; this balm in Gilead is prepared for thy soul. The Spirit of Adoption speaks love and peace & pardon; and that by particular Application of the Promise to us; As when the Promise of remission of sins, and life everlasting by Christ is generally propounded in the Ministry of the Word; the holy Ghost does particularly apply it to the heart of such a one, and does seal up the Promise to the soul; That when Faith says, this Promise is mine, this belongs to me; the Spirit does strongly apply it; this is thine indeed, and this does belong to thee: These are the secret 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the whisper and breathe of the holy Spirit, the secret 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 by which it converses with the soul; The Spirit of God has free, and often intercourse with a believing spirit. And this is far enough from any vain Enthusiasm, any extraordinary Revelation; 'tis no imaginary thing, but such as many a soul is acquainted with, and has tasted of.  
2. By a bright irradiation beaming out upon the soul▪ and clearing its evidences, discovering its graces, and showing them to be true and genuine; not only by giving the soul a spirit of discerning, (for that we referred to the former Testimony;) but the Spirit brings in its own light, and makes those graces, which were visible before, more eminently conspicuous; The spirit of a man, was the Candle of the Lord, (as the wise man speaks) which gave a weaker and dimmer light▪ but yet such as was enough to manifest the Object: I, but now there are glorious Sunbeams come rushing in upon the spirit, the Spirit shines in the soul with ●ealing under his wings. The graces of the Spirit these flow, like a pure and Crystalline stream; and the light of the Spirit shines out upon them, and gilds the water. See a plain Text for this, 1 Cor. 2. 12. We have received the Spirit which is of God, that we might know the things which are freely given us of God: Light sets a gloss upon all the world, and this spiritual light gives a lustre and oriency to graces: it puts a beauty upon them, such as the soul is much taken with; We have received an heavenly light, that we may see heavenly things: Now thou knowst thy Faith to be lively, and thy Repentance to be sound; thy Sorrow to be ingenuous, and thy Obedience sincere; thy Love to be unfeigned, and thy fear to be filial: for the Spirit has set his seal to all thy graces, and has acknowledged them for his own.  

Object. 1.  O but many have thought they have had the Spirit, when they had it not: and the Devil, that foul spirit, can transform himself into an Angel of light.  

Sol.  But 1. One man's self-deceit does not prejudice another's certainty. What if one man flatter himself in a false light, and please himself in a mere shadow of Assurance; must all men needs follow his example? A man that is in a dream, thinks himself awake, when he is not: I, but (I hope) for all this, a man that is awake, may certainly know, that he is so. Many a traveller has thought himself in the right way, when he has been out of it: and yet this does not hinder, but that he, that's well acquainted with the road, may know that he is in his way. What if one man take Copper for Gold, must all men do so too? One man's folly and vanity does not at all hinder another's Assurance.  
2. The Spirit comes with a convincing beam; Light shows both itself and other things too; the Sun by its glorious beams does paraphrase and comment upon its own glittering Essence; and the Spirit displays himself to the soul, and gives a full manifestation of his own presence. The soul knows the aspect of the Spirit, better than we do the face of a friend. The light of a presumptuous wretch, is like a blazing Comet, and does but portend his ruin: it carries a venomous and malignant influence in it; and the light of an hypocrite is but a flash, and coruscation, very brief and transient. A man may sooner take a glowworm for the Sun, than an experienced Christian can take a false delusion for the light of the Spirit.  
3. There is a twin light springing from the word and the Spirit. Try the spirits; To the Law, and to the Testimony: if they speak not according to this rule, it is because there is no morning in them.  
The Scripture was all indicted by the Spirit, and the Spirit cannot contradict himself: You do but grieve the Spirit, (whoer'e you are) that pretend to any Revelation, that agrees not with the Word; Nay, the Spirit has revealed his whole mind in the Word, and will give no other Revelation, any otherwise then we have spoken of. And whoever he is that rebels against the light of the Word, he fhall never have the light of the Spirit. Whilst thou dost not follow the directing light of the Spirit, thou shalt never have the quickening and cherishing beams of it.  
And thus you have heard the double Testimony: the Spirit witnessing with our spirit, and now you must know, that  
1. The Testimony of God's Spirit is always accompanied with the Testimony of our own spirit: and so that word, Rome 8▪ is significant, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which is properly of one, that does only confirm what the other says: But then  
2. A man may have the testimony of his own spirit, that has not the witness of God's Spirit. The Spirit as it breathes when it pleases, so it shines when it pleases too: Well than the question is, whether the Christian, who has but the single testimony of his own spirit, may be assured of his salvation?  
Mr. Perkin's propounds the case, and resolves it thus: If the testimony of the Spirit be wanting, than the other testimony, the sanctification of heart, will suffice to assure us. We know it sufficiently to be true, and not painted fire, if there be heat, though there be no flame; thus he: And his meaning is as indeed the thing is, that it is a true Assurance, though not so bright an Assurance. I may see a thing certainly by the light of a candle, and yet I may see it more clearly by the light of the Sun. And for my part, I think that certainty does not consist in punto, but may admit of a latitude; and receive magìs and minús: And the contrary principle does delude many. There's an absolute and infallible certainty in faith, and by this I know the creation of the World: well, but besides this I know it by reason and by unquestionable demonstration, and I think this adds to my certainty. So here; though one testimony be enough for Assurance, yet a double testimony makes it more glorious. Certainty admits of degrees, and a man may be more certain of a thing, that he is already certain of. Take two Christians, both may be assured of their salvation; and yet one may have a clearer assurance than the other has: One may have a double testimony, and another but a single. Nay, the same soul may have at one time a double testimony, and at another but a single. The light of the Spirit may, and does often withdraw itself, and leave only the witness of our own spirit; and yet then the soul has Assurance. But yet the soul should aim at the highest Plerophory, at the top of Assurance: Then quench not the Spirit, lest you put out your own joy; grieve not so sweet an inhabitant, that comes to comfort you, give him no cause to withdraw his light.  
Quest. But what if the soul have not the witness of God's Spirit, nor of its own spirit neither? What if it have no present light, no certain evidence?  
Answ. There's one way left yet; have recourse to former Assurance. Dost thou certainly know and remember, that once thou hadst a sweet serenity of soul? that an inlight'ned consciscience upon good grounds, did speak peace unto thee? Didst thou never see the light of the Spirit crowning thy soul with satisfying beams? Art thou sure that once he did bear witness with thy spirit, that thou wert the child of God? Why then, be sure still, that thou art in the same condition; for there's no total falling from grace. Thy light (it may be) is put out for the present: Conscience does not speak so friendly to thee, as 'twas wont. And thou hast grieved the Spirit, and he has took it unkindly, and has held off his-light for a while: But now canst thou remember the days of old, when the Rock poured out Oil unto thee, when thy branch was green and flourishing? Canst thou certainly recall thy former Assurance? Canst tell the time when the Spirit did set his Seal unto thee▪ and confirmed all thine Evidences? Well then, lay down but perseverance for a ground, and thou art still assured of thy salvation. The Spirits testimony is of an eternal truth: And heaven and earth shall sooner pass away, than one beam of this light shall vanish though now it be not apparent to thy eye When the soul for the present is cloudy & dark, it may cherish itself with former Assurance. Now that a soul may have no sensible Assurance for the present, and yet may remember former Assurance, is clear in that holy man David, Psal. 51. 12. Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation, and uphold me with thy free Spirit. David's joy was extinguished, and he would fain have it lighted again: Three things employed in the word Restore. 1. That for the present it was taken away. 2. That once he had it. 3. He remembers that he had it, and therefore prays, Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation, and uphold me with thy free Spirit; that was the spring of David's joy, the testimony of the Spirit witnessing with his Spirit, was that which did uphold and staff up the soul. David's own spirit was now very unquiet, and God's Spirit did withdraw himself; and now the best refreshment that David has, is from former Assurance. 'Tis true, there is some sadnesle and bitterness in this consideration, when a Christian shall think what he has lost. O, my soul was once a beautiful Temple, full of fair windows, and goodly prospects, and glorious light; I could take a prospect of Canaan when I pleased, but now I dwell in the tents of Kedar, nothing but blackness and darkness. There is trouble and a sting in these thoughts; but yet there is some honey and sweetness too: Was I not once a friend of God, and does he use to forsake his friends? Did he not once speak peace to thee, and does he use to recall his words? Did not he shed his love in thy heart, and is not his love immortal? Did not his Spirit seal up thy soul, and is not the print of that seal indelible? Speak, did not he once show thee thy name written with his own had in the Book of Life, and does he use to blot out what he has written? Dost not thou remember; did not he smile upon thee in such and such an Ordinance, and are his smiles deceitful? O no! rest satisfied, O Christian soul▪ and quiet thyself in those rich expressions of his Love, which he has formerly bestowed upon thee; O quesion not his goodness, but prepare thyself for receiving of it. The streams are dried up, but yet the fountaines full; thou hast had some tastes of it, though now thou art dry and thirsty: and thou shalt have in time fresh bubblings up of his grace towards thee: in the interim, take this for a cordial. Those former drops which thou hast tasted of it, will cherish thy soul to all eternity. The least drop of grace shall never be exhausted, the least spark of true joy shall never be extinguished; all the floods that the Dragon can vomit out of his mouth, shall never be able to quench it. But then  
4. Put the case thus, that there be no Sun-light, nor Starlight, nor relics of former light; neither the testimony of God's Spirit, nor of our own spirits, nor any recalling of former assurance; what must the soul do now? Now look to the dawning of the day, to the first Crepusculum; look now to the initials of grace, to the preface of Sanctification. Thou canst not, it may be, show any fair and lively pourtra●cture; I, but hast thou the first draughts, and rudiments of holiness? Thou hast not any goodly and delicious clusters of Canaan; O but see if the tender grape do bud. There are not any ripe fruits of the Spirit, but yet are there some blossomings of holiness? They graces don't flow out in foe full and fair a stream; but canst thou see any bubblings up of goodness in thee? Thou hast not yet the strength of a well grown Christian; well, but is there the vagitus of an Infant? Look now to the souls prising of a Christ, to the whimpering after the breast, to the breathe and longings after its Beloved, thoughts upon him, desires for him, endeavours after him; there's much comfort and sweetness in these: I, and some kind of Assurance. For  
(1.) Be sure, that God that has begun this great work in thee, will never give over till it be full and complete; he does not use to leave his work imperfest. The least tendency to goodness, is cherished by him; The very first motion▪ 'tis of his own planting, and it shall lack for no watering, and he himself will give it an increase.  
(2.) The least seed of grace, as 'tis choice and precious; so 'tis very vigorous and operative, it will never leave working till Christ be form in thee. Who hath despised the day of small things? Thy spark may spread itself into a flame, and thy tender bud may flourish, and bring forth much fruit. He that is richest in grace, began with as little a stock. He that is now a tall Cedar, was once a tender plant. Improve but present strength, and God will send thee in fresh supplies Auxiliary forces, and thou shalt walk from strength to strength, till thou appearest before God in glory. Thy light shall shine out brighter and brighter till perfect day, Donec stabiliatur dies, according to the Syriac, till thou comest to a firm and well established Assurance. The least peeping out of light, the least dawning of the day is pleasant and comfortable.  
5. If thou canst not spy out any grace in they self, borrow light of another. Lay open thy soul to an Interpreter, one of a thousand, he may explain they condition, and paraphraze upon thy soul better than thou thyself canst. This Interpreter, one of a thousand may more exactly analyse thy condition, and show the context and coherence of it. 'Tis the speech of Elihu, Job 33. 23. There meets him a messenger, an Interpreter, one among a thousand, to show unto him his uprightness; he'll show thee, here's grace, and there's grace; here's a true pearl, and there's a spark though in ashes, and there's an evidence. A discerning and experienced Christian may show thee cause of joy, when thou canst find none thyself. 'Tis no shame to borrow light, especially spiritual light.  
6. One step further. What if after all this there be not the least glimmering of light, nothing of a spark, nothing of a beam; a total eclipse, all clouds and blackness and darkness and the very valley of the shadow of death? yet even here will we fear none ill.  
1. When reflex acts are wanting, be sure to multiply direct acts: when there is no certainty of Evidence, yet even then have a certainty of Adherence and Recumbency. Now grasp a Promise, take fast hold of that precious offer, roll thyself upon the free grace of a God in Christ; lay all the stress of thy salvation upon it, with a gallant and heroical resolution; If I perish, I perish. Thus Job, Though he kill me, yet will I trust in him. Thus our Saviour, My God, my god, why hast thou forsaken me? And this must needs be a strong act of faith, even then to rely upon God when he seems thine enemy; to trust in an angry and displeased God, and when he frowns on thee, yet then to lean upon him. Like men ready to be drowned, be sure to take fast hold; cast Anchor, though in the dark.  
2. Study self-denial, and though thou long and breath after Assurance; yet resign up thyself wholly to his will, and be content to want Assurance, if he see it best for thee. Take heed of murmuring in the wilderness, in the saddest and most deserted condition. Throw thyself at his feet, with this resolution; O my God, I'll bless thee for those eternal treasures of sweetness that are in thyself, though I should never taste of them: I'll bless thee for those smiles of thy face, which thou bestowest upon others, though thou wilt not cast one gracious look upon my soul: I'll bless thee for those rich offers of grace thou makest unto me, though I have not a heart to lay hold of them.  
3. Put thy soul into a waiting posture, and stay till he please to display some of himself unto thee, and make some of his goodness pass before thee. One beam of his countenance, one gracious smile, one propitious glance of his eye, the least crumb of the hidden Manna; 'tis worth waiting for all thy life-time. And when I speak of waiting, I mean not that the soul should stand still, and do nothing; no, this were against the Text, Give diligence, etc. improve all present strength; wait upon him in prayer, beg one glimpse of him, be earnest for a taste, for a relish of the hidden Manna; and wait upon him in his Ordinances, here the Spirit breathes, here Manna's reigned down, here God shows his face; here's the sealing place, the Spirit confirms the word, and prints it upon thy soul. Thus wait upon him in his own way; I, and wait upon him in his own time too, don't think time tedious; He that believes, makes not haste, which St. Paul renders; He that believes, is not ashamed; as if to make haste and be ashamed, were all one. God will wonderfully prepare the soul, that he means to fill with his love. Assurance is too precious a thing to be poured into every spirit: He won't put new wine into old bottles. God is all this while making thee more capable of his love; and though for the present thou hast no Assurance, yet thus trusting and waiting upon him, thou art in a great tendency to it. And put the worst that can be imagined, that thou shouldst die under a cloud; yet thy condition were safe, and thou shalt come then to a full Assurance; nay, to a full possession of thine inheritance; and thou shalt see the glorious Sunshine of the face of God, a beam of which thou didst so much long for here.  
We come now to the fourth particular; those special Sealing times, when Christians have their Assurance and Plerophory.  
1. Many times at their first conversion, God does then seal up the work of grace in the soul. When the Spirit of Bondage has passed upon the soul, and by a strong conviction, has applied particularly guilt and wrath unto it; the fatal sentence is pronounced, and the soul is filled with the scorching pre-apprehensions of hell and damnation, and trembles at the very thought of eternity: Now for the Gospel to bring thee welcome news of a pardon, and for the Spirit of Adoption to apply grace and mercy unto the soul: for the prison-doores to be broken open, and a poor captive set at liberty; to have all the chains and fetters beaten off, and to be brought into a marvellous light; to have all the balm of Gilead poured into him, Evangelical fruitions and cordials prepared for him, and which is the very extraction and quintessence of all, the love of a Saviour shed into his heart: What strong impressions of joy, think you, must there be in such a soul? What precious infusions of spiritual sweetness? What secret springings and elevations of Spirit? What triumphs, what Jubilee's, what love-raptures? I am my Beloved's, and my Beloved is mine. I must appeal to your breasts that have found this great and heavenly work wrought upon your soul; 'tis you only that have tasted the joy of the holy Ghost, that is glorious and unspeakable. And do you tell us, had not ye then the first relish of the hidden Manna? was not it very sweet and delicious? hadst not thou then the first glimpse of the White Stone? and was not it very bright and orient? hadst not thou then the Spouse kiss, and was not it precious and more worth than a world? didst not thou t●●n first hear the soft language and whisper of the Spirit, and was not his voice lovely and pleasant? I know your souls dance within you, with the very recalling of so happy and golden a time, and you pant and breathe after more of this communion with a Saviour, and truly he deserves an Anathema, that does not prefer the very possibility of having of it before all the world. Hosea 11. 1. When Israel was a child, than I loved him; I taught Ephraim also to go, taking them by their arms, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: I taught him to foot it on the ways of Religion, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; I drew them with the cords of a man, all gentle and persuasive solicitations, with bands of love, I was to them as they that take off the yoke on their jaws, and I laid meat unto them. The yoke of bondage the soul was under, God freed the soul, brought him to an easy, pleasant yoke, to an Evangelical yoke. God has a special care of tender plants; when Israel was a tender vine, O then he fenced it, and hedged it, and shone out upon it, etc.  
Now Christ is thus pleased to reveal his love, to unbosom himself unto the souls of young Converts, for their greater encouragement in the ways of grace: At the first step to heaven, he gives them a viaticum. If after the soul had been steeped in legal humiliation, and possessed with fears and terrors and amazements, compassed with clouds, and now at last it has been drawn by a mighty work to receive a Saviour; If after all this it should have no Sunshine, 'twould droop and languish, and be ready to pine away; 'twould be very unfit and unserviceable, the wheels of the soul would move heavily▪ God therefore oils the wheels, pours the Oil of gladness into the soul. And now it moves like the chariots of Aminadab, with a nimble spontaneity. Christ begins to flourish through the Lettuces, le's in some of his love into the soul; I, and gives it a sense of this love too, and this constrains it to obedience; and sets the soul a longing for more of this love, and for more sense of this love; and so it will never leave longing, till it have a full fruition of it in heaven. This is God's method, this is the usual progress of grace in the soul.  
And hence you may see why young Converts are usually so active in the ways of Religion, so forward and vehement. O, they have fresh apprehensions of the love of a Saviour; with an eminent alteration he has wrought in them; how they are raised from death to life? O, they can tell you long stories of his goodness; what great things he hath done for their soul. So that their affections are raised; there's a flush of joy, the soul runs over, and knows no banks, no bounds. Thus God does many times seal up the work of grace in the soul, and gives a satisfying light at the first conversion: but yet I cannot say that this is always so, for there are diversities of workings, and grace sometimes wrought in the soul after a more still and undiscernible manner; as we shall have occasion to speak more hereafter.  
2. Sacrament-times, are sealing times. I speak of the Sacrament of the Lords Supper; for as for those secret breathe of the Spirit upon Infants in that other Sacrament of Baptism, they are altogether unsearchable, and past finding out. Now in the Lord's Supper you have the New Covenant sealed up unto the soul; the soul has not only his graces increased, but they are printed clearer; that seal of the Spirits does print a Christians evidences with a clearer stamp. You have plain and visible representations of the love of a Saviour; and you have the sense of this love poured out into you. A Christian feeds not only upon Sacramental bread, but upon hidden Manna too, and has tastes of that love that is sweeter than wine. Here's a feast of fat things; The soul is satisfied as with marrow and sweetness; spiritual refreshments like fat things, they are sweet, and they are filling too; yet not like other fat things, that have a cloying fulsomeness in them; no, these carry a delicious relish with them, such as the soul takes present complacency in them, and has a longing appetite for them. The soul never nauseats the feast of fat things; but the more it feeds upon them, the more it hungers after them. Now the two grand ends of this Sacrament in reference to a Christian, are (1.) Growth of Grace. (2.) Sense of Grace. 'Tis a Sacrament of Augmentation by which a new-borne-infant-soul may grow up to its just proportion and full stature in Jesus Christ; and 'tis a Sacrament evidencing this his condition to the soul. Christians come hither ad corroborandum Titulum; the smoking flax comes hither to have some light, and the bruised reed comes hither to have some strength; the worm Jacob crawl's into the presence of a Saviour, and is sent away with an encouraging voice, Fear not, thou worm Jacob. Many a tender babe in Christ, has stretched out its weak and trembling hand, to lay hold of a Saviour, and has found virtue coming out from him. Many a thirsty soul has come breathing and panting after the streams of water; 'thas opened his mouth wide, and he has filled it. The longing and affectionate soul has come with vehement and enlarged desires, and has found full expressions and manifestations of his love towards her. Many a cloudy soul has come hither to see if he could spy out one beam, and has been sent away brighter than the Sun in all its glory. You that come hither with the most ample and capacious souls; tell us whether you bened filled up to the brim, whether your cup don't overflow? O what heavenly intercourse is there between you and a Saviour? what pleasant aspects? what mutual love-glances? what smiles and blandishments? Don't you find in your own souls▪ a full Paraphrase upon the book of the Canticles, that book of Loves? He comes with an earthy and drossy soul, that is not raised and advanced with such glorious mysteries.  
And yet my meaning is not, as if every true Christian that had received this Sacrament, must needs have Assurance; No, we know  
1. Believers themselves may receive unworthily, as the Christian Corinthians, (when Paul tells them) they came together for the worse, and not for the better, he speaks it of such as were truly in the state of grace. Thus he concludes his discourse, You are chastened of the Lord, that you might not be condemned with the world. And thus the soul may go from a Sacrament with less comfort than it brought thither.  
2. Many that have much joy and sweetness from a Sacrament, real and spiritual joy, I and strength and vigour too, yet it may be have it not in so great a proportion, in so high a measure; their cup is not so brim-ful, as that it should reach to Assurance. All that do truly partake of these heavenly delicacies, yet don't go away equally satisfied. Some have but a taste which is enough to cherish them, others a full draught which does mightily enliven them. So then, all we say is this, those Christians that have assurance, have it usual at these times, and some Christians that have wanted assurance, yet here have found it, which should strongly engage all to come hither with great and solemn preparation, quickening and exciting their graces, emproving all present strength, breathing and longing after these pleasant streams, widening and enlarging their affections, opening their mouths like a dry and thirsty land that waits for some satisfying showers, and would fain be filled.  
3. Times of employment are sealing times. When God intends a Christian for great and eminent service, he first makes his goodness pass before him, he sheds some of his love into his heart, which does both constrain him to obedience, and encourage him in it; his smile makes the soul go cheerfully about his work, his presence gives life and vigour to a performance. The servants of God wait on him, fix their eyes upon him, look whether he gives them a propitious glance, they walk in the light of his countenance, they follow the directions of his eye; they won't move unless he breathe on them. Moses won't stir without Assurance of his presence. All the clusters of Canaan shall not entice him, he had rather dwell with briers and thorns in the wilderness with the good will of him that dwells in the bush: He had rather be in a barren, and desolate, and howling wilderness: then in a pleasant and fruitful land, in a delicious land without the presence of his God. He knows there's no sweetness in Canaan without him; there's more sting than honey in the land of Promise, unless he be there; and Canaan itself will prove a wilderness if he withdraw himself. The beams of his gracious Presence, these gilled a place: they can turn a desert into a Paradise, and can make a prison glorious. The love of God in Christ 'tis attractive and magnetical, and draws the soul along when 'tis once touch▪ t with it, this will draw Moses to the land of Promise, this will carry him through all difficulties. God sheds some of this love into Moses his heart, and then he goes on with cheerfulness and alacrity. And so 'twas with his Successor Joshua. God calls him to an honourable employment, to be the Shepherd of his little flock, to guide and govern his People Israel. Now how does he prepare him for so great a work? why, he strengthens him, and heartens him with a Promise of himself, with assurance of his love; Fear not, but be of courage, I am with thee: Thou hast my presenee, thou shalt have my blessing; I have done much for thee, and I will do more for thee; be faithful in my service, and be courageous, and don't doubt of the love of God towards thee. Thus God when he called Abraham to that great expression of obedience in the sacrificing of his Isaac, he first warms his heart with his love, and seals up the Covenant of Grace to him: he spreads before him ample and comprehensive Promises, I am thy God All-sufficient; I am thy Buckler, and thine exceeding great reward; and this will bear up and support Abraham, though the staff of his old age be taken away, and by his own hands cast into the fire.  
And this was his usual dealing with the Prophets, when he sent them with great and weighry messages. He first reveals his goodness to them, before he reveals his mind by them; he assures them of directing mercy, of protecting mercy that shall bear them company, that shall go along with them: and this puts a generous undauntedness upon them, that they fear not the frowns of men, nor the threatenings of men, nor of the greatest of men: this makes Jeremy to set his face like a flint, and Esay to lift up his voice like a Trumpet, to tell Israel their sins, and Judah their transgressions.  
And this is that which prepares the Martyrs for their sufferings. God tempers and allays that Cup, he drops some of his goodness into it, and sweetens it to them. He first sets his seal to their souls, before they set their seal to his truth; he diets them with the hidden Manna, and gives them beforehand the White Stone, as a sure pledge of victory. What is it but this that makes them devour torments, and come to them with an appetite? 'tis this that softens the flames, and turns them into a bed of Roses; 'tis this that fills their souls with joy, and their mouths with praises: that makes them more cheerful in their sufferings, than their Saviour in his; for they usually have the face of a reconciled God shining out upon them, which was wholly with drawn from him, when he cried out, My God, my God, Why hast thou forsaken me?  
4. Praying times are sealing times. The same Spirit that endites the Prayer, seals it up. When Hannah had put up her Prayer, 1 Sam▪ 1. 18. the text says expressly,▪ that her countenance was no more sad. As 'tis the great Privilege of Assurance. that Christians may then with confidence cry Abba Father, so also 'tis a great means to Assurance. The hearing of Prayers is a mighty strengthening to faith; and the strengthening of faith does strongly tend to Assurance. Besides, Christians may pray for Assurance; they may be importunate for a glimpse of his face, for one beam, for one smile, and his bowels won't let him deny them. Hence you shall find it, that such as are most frequent in Prayer, are most blest with Assurance. Praying Christians have much intercourse and communion with their God. And thus there may be a National kind of Assurance, I say a National plerophory; when God shall pour out a Spirit of Prayer and Supplication upon his people, and they with united and concentricated abilities shall besiege the Throne of Grace; there is no doubt, there can be no doubt, but at length he will yield up such a mercy to his praying People.  
5. Times of outward exigencies are sealing times, 2 Cor. 4. 16. Though our outward man decay, yet our inward man is renewed daily; that feeds upon hidden Mannah, a precious restaurative for a fainting Christian: Manna you know was reigned down in the wilderness; and when the Israelites provision failed them, than Manna was reigned down. When the water-pots are filled up to the brim, than water presently turned into wine: and so this hidden Mannah is provided for sad and cloudy conditions. We except only the case of total desertion, when the soul has not the least light shining in upon it▪ which is the severest judgement that a true Christian is capable of: but in other distresses, especially outward and temporal distresses, he does reveal himself more immediately to them. And though the creature frown, yet he will smile upon them. Believers they are the friends of God, and 'tis no part of friendship to forsake them in the saddest times. St. John, when a banished man in the Isle of Pathmos, than God shows him that glorious Revelation. Paul and Silas, when in prison, then brimful of joy, which breaks out into Psalms of Praise. In the fiery trial, as there is some scorching, so there is some light too. And God does prepare his People for the seal of the Spirit, by thus melting and softening their heart; for the softer the heart is, the clearer will the Print of his love be. When God had brought that great sickness upon Hezekiah, and thus had dissolved and softened his heart, he presently prints his love upon it: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Thou hast loved my soul from the grave. God does then most express his love, when they have most need of it. The white Stone sparkles most oriently in the darkest condition. O how gloriously does God shine in upon the prisons of Martyrs? what frequent visits does he give them? it might even make men ambitious of their sufferings, that they might have some such expressions of his love towards them.  
6. Times of Victory and Conquests over lusts and temptations are sealing times. God after such victories will give his People a triumph. This is expressed in that text of the Revelation, Rev. 2. 17. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, To him that overcomes will I give to eat of the hidden Mannah, etc. Thus when Saint Paul was wrestling with, and conquering that great temptation, whatever it was, that is mentioned in 2 Corinthians 12. God then gives to eat of the hidden Mannah, and strengthens him with this, My grace is sufficient for thee. He gives him the white Stone with that Motto graven in it, My grace, etc. Thus that noble Christian, and famous Convert of Italy Galeacius Caracciolus, when he had scorned the pomp and lustre of the world, and had trampled upon all relations for the love of a Saviour: when Satan that cunning Angler of souls had spent all his baits upon him, and he had refused them all: O then what a deal of precious sweetness slides into his soul? what rushings in of glorious joy? he had never such joy at Naples, as he had at Geneva. You may hear him pronouncing an Anathema to all such, as shall prefer all the gold and silver in the world before one days sweet Communion with Jesus Christ. As none have more dregs of wrath then relapsing and apostatising Spirits, (Remember but Spira's case;) so none have sweeter and choicer mercy than the faithful Servants of the Lord Jesus, that follow him in the hour of temptation. Apostates are sealed up to a day of vengeance, but these are sealed up to a day of Redemption. Thus the Mourners in Ezekiel, that would not yield to the abominations of the times must have a seal set upon them. Thus that Virgin-company in the Revelation, that would not prostitute their souls to Antichristian folly, have the seal of God in their foreheads. This is the happiness of a Christian, that he has a sweet satisfaction in self-denial; in denying sin, in repulsing lust, in conquering temptation, in pulling out his right eye, in cutting off his right hand, in mortifying the body of death, he has a sweet satisfaction in all these. And thus you have seen those special sealing times when Christians have this high plerophory, these riches of Assurance: we come now to speak of them in a more Applicatory way.  
1. Times of Assurance, they should be times of humility and dependence upon God. When Moses had been so long in the Mount, and had a lustre upon him by conversing with God himself, presently at the foot of the Mount he meets with matter of humiliation. The Israelites have made them a golden Calf; Thy People, says God to Moses, they have done this. And the Apostle Paul, when he had been rapt up into the third Heaven, and had heard there some of Arcana Coeli, things that neither could nor might be uttered; for both are employed in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: there than comes a messenger of Satan to buffet him, he must be put in mind of himself by a thorn in the flesh, and that lest he should be exalted above measure with abundance of Revelations. A creature can't 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ a little thing will puff up a bubble, a small happiness will swell up the sons of men. Pride as it twines about the choicest graces, so it devours the sweetest comforts. But yet there is nothing tends more to soule-abasement and self-examination, than the beholding of God's face, than the seeing of his glory, this will make the soul abhor itself in dust and ashes. The more God reveals himself unto the soul, the more will the soul see that huge disproportion that is between itself and a Deity. There's none here below that ever saw more of God's face then Moses and Paul had done, and there were none that ever had lower apprehensions of themselves. They knew well enough what the Sunshine of his presence was, what a glorious sight it was to behold his face, and yet they had rather part with this, than he should part with his glory. They are like men amazed with the vastness and spaciousness of the Ocean, and make nothing of a little inconsiderable drop of Being. They that know not these treasures of love and sweetness, those heaps of excellencies that are stored up in God, these are the grand admirers of themselves. But when the soul comes to have a prospect of heaven, and fixes its eye upon an object of the first magnitude, the creature disappears, self vanishes and loses itself in the fullness of God. And if God do assure thee of this his love, thou canst not but wonder at the greatness of his goodness, especially when thou shalt recollect thyself, and think upon thine own unworthiness. Thou that didst not deserve a beam of his face, what does he give thee a full Sunshine? Thou that couldst not look for the least taste of his love, what does he give thee a whole cluster of Canaan? Thou that didst not deserve the least crumb of the hidden Mannah, does he fill thee an Omer full of it? Nay, yet higher▪ Thou that didst deserve a brand from his Justice, does he give thee a seal of his love? he might have given thee gall and vinegar to drink, and does he flow in upon thee with milk and honey? he might have given thee the first flashes of hell, and does he give thee the first-fruits of heaven? what couldst thou have looked for but an eternal frown, and dost thou meet with so gracious a smile? O then fall down and adore his goodness, and let all that is within thee bless his holy name. Tell me now, is there any ground for pride in such a soul? Does not Assurance bespeak humility; and speak a meet dependence?  
2. Times of Assurance, they should be times of trampling upon the creature, and scorning of things below. Dost thou now take care for corn, and wine, and oil, when God lifts up the light of his countenance upon thee? is this same▪ Angels food, this same hidden Mannah, is it too light meat for thee? Now thou art within the land of Promise, feeding upon the grapes and pomegranates of the land, dost thou now long for the garlic and onions of Egypt? Now thou art within thy father's house, and the fatted Calf is slain, wilt thou now still feed upon husks? Art thou clothed with the Sun, and canst not thou trample the Moon under thy feet? O let them scramble for the world that have nothing else to live on. Pray give room to the green Bay-trees to spread themselves abroad; but don't thou lose thy fatness and sweetness to rule over these. Art thou sure of heaven, and wouldst thou fix thy Tabernacle upon earth? Is it good for thee to be here? or wouldst have any more than the light of God's countenance? is it not enough that thou art sure of happiness? is not a fountain enough for thee? why wilt thou drink in muddy streams? and thou that art filled with the love of a Saviour, canst thou tell how to spend a thought upon the world? is not there more beauty in a Christ then in the Creature? is not he the fairest of ten thousand? Away then with adulterous glances, for why shouldst thou embrace the bosom of a stranger?  
3. Times of Assurance they should be times of watchfulness, and more accurate walking with God. To sin against revealed love, is a deep and kill aggravation. To sin against light is too too much, but to sin against love is a great deal more: this height'ned Solomon's idolatry, (1 Kings 11. 9) that he turned from the God of Israel which had appeared to him twice. What wilt thou with Jeshurun wax fat and kick, and kick against bowels too? To provoke God in a wilderness is not so much as to provoke him in a Paradise. What could he have done more for thee then he has done! and what couldst thou have done more against him than thou hast done! and wilt thou still requite him thus? wilt thou provoke him with Mannah in thy mouth? Does he give thee the sweet clusters of the land, and dost thou return him wild grapes? that which is the strongest engagement to obedience, dost thou make it an encouragement to sin? art thou so willing to dash thy joy, to lose thy peace? And O how will it please the powers of darkness to see thee abuse a beam? The devil has several designs against the welfare of a soul. First, if it were possible he would keep thee from having any grace at all. But secondly, if he can't do that, he would keep thee from strength of grace, from growth in grace; he would break the bruised reed, and he would quench the smoking flax But then if he can't prevail here neither; then in the third place, he would keep thee from sense of grace, in a sad and cloudy condition: he envies thee one beam, one smile, one glance of his eye. But then if the riches of God's goodness do so run over, as that he will give thee a sense of his love; then fourthly, in the last place, he would have thee abuse his grace, and turn it into wantonness. But when God has planted thee in so happy a Paradise, don't thou listen to the whisper of the Serpent. Thou that art sealed by the Holy Spirit, don't attend to a lying spirit. The devil that great plunderer of souls, would fain rob thee of thy Jewels, of thy joy, and peace, and happiness: but do thou hide them in a Christ, in the wounds of a Saviour; and take heed of blotting thine Evidences; thou that art a Child of light, be not ruled by a Prince of darkness. If God give thee a sense of his love, walk more steadfastly, walk more accurately with thy God.  
4. Times of Assurance they should be times of inviting and encouraging others in the ways of grace. Thus the Psalmist, when his Cup overflows, he calls others to taste of it, O taste and see how gracious God is, that ye may trust in him. Thou mayest now bring a good report upon the land of Canaan, thou mayest show them the goodly fruits of the land, that were cut down at the brook Eshcol. Men look upon Religion as a rigid and austere thing, that comes to rob them of their joy, they must never have a smile more, they must never have a Summer's day after it; but thou canst tell them of the sweetness and deliciousness that is in the ways of grace, thou canst assure them that all the ways of wisdom are pleasantness; thou canst satisfy them, that grace does not mean to take away their joy, but only to refine it; that it does not mean to put out the light, but only to snuff it, that it may burn brighter and clearer. There's no such joy to be found in the ways of sin, there's no such joy to be extracted from the Creature; no, the sweetest and purest honey 'tis sucked from a flower of Paradise. Spiritual joy 'tis the most clarified joy; I, and 'tis solid and massy joy, beaten joy, like beaten gold, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. ay, and 'tis lasting and durable joy. All the Creatures make but a blaze, but the least spark of this 'tis immortal. Can there be a sweeter Sabbatisme of Spirit? can there be a happier composedness of soul, then to be provided for eternity; to be sure of heaven, of happiness and glory; to have the revealing of God's love, the displaying of himself, the beamings out of his face? is not the least appearance of his love more worth than a world? are not the glean of spirituals better than the vintage of temporals? Me thinks an assured Christian, like a Caleb or a Joshua, should be able and ready to confute all the false intelligence of the Spies, and to answer the weak objections that they bring against the land of Promise. Awake O sluggard, and arise, there is no Lion in the way, or if it be it has honey in it: There are no sons of Anak, or if there be, before Israel even these mountains shall become a Plain.  
5. Times of Assurance they should be times of store, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Now treasure up beams, heap up light, store up hidden Mannah. To be sure, this Mannah won't breed worms. Then thou mayest confidently applaud thyself, Soul, take thine ease, thou hast goods laid up for many years. Happy thou, if this night thy soul be taken from thee▪ Storing up of former evidences, is a good provision against a cloudy day.  
6. Times of Assurance should be times of breathing after full possession. The espoused soul should long for the Nuptials, for the full consummation of its joy: and by a heavenly gradation it should ascend in its thoughts. Is there such sweetness in one cluster of Canaan, what shall there be in the full vintage? is there such pleasantness in a prospect of the land upon the top of Mount Pisgah, what happiness shall there be in enjoyment of the land? is there such glory in a beam of God's face, what shall there be in an eternal Sunshine? is there such a sparkling lustre in the white Stone, what then shall there be in all those pearls that garnish the soundations, and make up the gates of the New Jerusalem? is there so much in the preface of glory, what shall there be in the inlargements and amplifications of it? is there so much in the Aenigma, what is there in the explication? can you see so much beauty in happiness, when her Mask is on, how glorious then will she appear when she is unveiled? does the soul sing so sweetly in a Cage of clay, what melody▪ think you, shall it then make when 'tis let loose to all Eternity?  
We now come to wind up all in a word of Application.  
Now the more pure and delicious a truth is, the more do the men of the world disrelish it: the more bright and shining it is, the more offensive to their eyes. The more orient the Pearl, the more do they trample upon it. Evangelical discoveries meet with the fiercest oppositions. The Serpent will be sure to wind into Paradise, and the seed of the Serpent ever knew how to still venomous and malignant consequences, out of sweet and flowery truths. 'Tis the devil's work to imprison all truth, but the nobler and more precious truths must be sure to be put in the lowest and darkest dungeons. As here now, Assurance of salvation, 'tis the very Crown and joy of a Christian; the Flos lactis, the Cream of that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is to nourish souls: 'tis the budding and blossoming of happiness, the antedating of heaven, the Prepossession of glory; 'tis the very Pinnacle of the Temple, the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; how fain would he throw Christians from thence? how would he blast glory in the bud? how fain would he pull down the suburbs of the New Jerusalem? how would he stop all the fresh springs that are in these? how would he seal up the luscious influences of the Pleyades? how fain would he Lycurgus-like, cut up all the vines of Canaan, that no Spy might ever bring one Cluster of the Land of Promise? He himself must feed upon nothing but dust, and how does he envy them their hidden Mannah? That Son of the morning is now bound in chains of darkness, and how does he envy them their light and liberty? how fain would he cloud and eclipse their Sun, and stop it in its race? nay, set it ten degrees backward? How does he envy them one beam of God's face▪ a grape of Canaan, one smile, one glance of God's eye? Now he could find out no fitter instrument to rob Christians of their joy, than Antichrist that grand enemy of the Church, that spiritual Nero, that Tyrant of souls that vice- Beelzebub, that Prince of darkness that rules in the children of disobedience. He rules them, and yet they are children of disobedience for all that. This Bestian Empire, (for so 'tis stilled in the Revelation,) delights only in sensuals, and strikes at spirituals. It strikes at the vitals of Religion at the power and essence of godliness. Here are the men that must cry down Assurance under the names of presumption, security, an heap of Enthusiasms, as if this hidden Mannah would breed all these worms. If men do but dip in the honeycomb, and take some of these voluntary drops that sweat from it freely▪ of their own accord, as Saul told Jonathan, they must certainly die for it. O this were a way to open their eyes, as it did Jonathant. They are loath to let men taste and see how gracious God is, lest they might trust in him.  
There are therefore two things which I shall here endeavour by way of Application.  
First, to give you a brief discovery of those grounds that necessitate the adversaries of this truth to deny Assurance.  
Secondly, to take off that vain and frivolous cavil, that assurance is a Principle of Libertinism, and that if men be once assured of their salvation, they may then do what they list.  
And first for the grounds that make them deny Assurance. And though I might here show at large, that all Popery, the Quintessence of it is extracted out of guesses and conjectures, their whole Religion is but a bundle of uncertainties, a rude heap of contingencies, built upon the thoughts of others, upon the intentions of a Priest; yet I shall let that pass now, and give you these four considerations that prevail with them to deny Assurance.  
1. They lay too much stress upon good works. Now Assurance is too goodly a structure to be built upon such a foundation. They part stakes between grace and merit, and so leave the soul in a tottering condition. There is so much pride bound up in the Spirits of men, as that they are loath to depend upon another for their happiness▪ they would have an innate and domestic happiness within themselves. But alas, self-bottomings are weak and uncertain, and they that build upon their own good meanings, and their good wishes and good resolutions, upon their good endeavours and goodworks, when they have done all, they have built but the house of the Spider. These that spin salvation out of their own bowels, their hope 'tis but as a Spider's web▪ And there are many that neither thus spin nor toil; and yet I say unto you, that a Pharisee in all his glory is not clothed like one of these If men do but inquire, and look a little to the ebbings and flow of their own spirits, to the waxing and waning of their own performances: surely they will presently acknowledge, that they can't fetch a Plerophory out of these▪ Believe it, the soul can't anchor upon a wave, or upon its own fluctuating motions. So that 'tis a piece of ingenuity in them, to tell men, that whilst they build upon the sand; they can have no great security that their house will last long: they may safely say of the Spider, that it can have no certainty that its house shall stand. Whilst they lean upon a reed we'll allow them to question whether it won't break or no; nay, if they please, they may very well question whether it won't pierce them through. They can be sure of nothing unless they be sure of ruin. Assurance cannot be founded in a bubble, in a creature, for the very essence of a creature is doubtful and wavering, it must be built upon an immutable Entity, upon the free love of God in Christ, upon his royal word and oath, the sure expressions of his mind and love, upon the witness of the Holy Ghost, the seal of God himself. Here the soul may rest, and lean, and quiet itself, for with God there is no variableness nor shadow of turning. The creature is all shadow and vanity, 'tis filia noctis; like Jonah's gourd, man may sit under its shadow for a while, but it soon decays and dies. All its certainty is in dependence upon its God. A creature, if like a single drop left to itself, it spends and wastes itself presently: but if like a drop in the fountain and Ocean of Being, it has abundance of security. No safety to the soul, but in the arms of a Christ, in the embraces of a Saviour. No rest to a Dovelike spirit, but in the Ark of the Covenant, and there's the pot of hidden Mannah. You know that dying Bellarmine was fain to acknowledge, that the nearest way to Assurance, was only to rest upon the free grace of God in Christ. And they that cry down duties so much, if they would mean no more than this, that men must not trust in them, nor make Christ's of them, nor Saviour's of them, (as they use to express it) we'll easily grant them this if they'll be content with it.  
2. They take away that clasping and closing power of faith itself, by which it should sweetly and strongly embrace its own object. They would have the soul embrace clouds and dwell in generals; they resolve all the sweetness and preciousness of the Gospel, either into this Universal, Whosoever believes shall be saved: or else, which is all one, into this Conditional, If thou believest thou shalt be saved Now this is so far from assurance, as that the Devils themselves do thus believe and yet tremble. The thirsty soul may know that there is a fountain but it must not presume to know that ever it shall taste of it. The wounded soul (with them) may take notice that there is balm in Gilead, but it must only give a guess, that it shall be healed. They won't allow the soul to break the shell of a Promise, so as to come to the kernel. They silence Faith, when it would speak in its own Idiom, My Lord, and my God. O what miserable comforters are these: How can they ever speak one word upon the wheels, one seasonable word to a weary soul; when as all they can reach to, by their own acknowledgement, is to leave the soul hover betwixt heaven and hell? And as they say in matter of Reproof, Generalia non pungunt: so 'tis as true in matter of Comfort, Generalia non mulcent. Yet to see how abundantly unreasonable these men are; for in the matter of their Church, there they require a particular appropriating faith, a Monopolising faith, that the Church of Rome is the only true visible Church: and this is no presumption with them. Thus they can embrace a dull Error, and let go a precious Truth. But the true Church of Christ, as 'tis itself built upon a Rock; so every Member of the Church has the same security. And the soul with a Spouse-like affection, does not only conjecture who is her Wellbeloved, but is in his very arms, and breaks out into that expression of love and union; I am my well-beloved's, and my wellbeloved is mine. But how strangely does their conjectural certainty take away the sweetness of such Relations? Christians with them must only conjecture that they are the Sons of God, the Spouse must only guess at her beloved husband; the sheep must hope that this is the Shepherd's voice. O how do they emasculate and enervate Religion! how do they dispirit it, and cut the very sinews of the power of godliness! But all you that would find rest to your souls, must know that you can never apply a Christ too much, that you can never appropriate a Saviour enough, that whole happiness is in union with him.  
3. They deny perseverance, and so long may very well deny Assurance. And yet the Arminians have an Art of reconciling Assurance, and Non-perseverance. They allow men a little brief Assurance for one moment, a breve fulgur, a little corruscation of joy, that only shows itself that it may vanish and disappear. The sum of their meaning amounts to thus much: For that moment that thou art in the state of grace, thou may'st be sure on't, but thou canst not be sure that the next moment thou shalt be in the state of grace. As if a Christian were only a Ball of fortune to be tossed up and down, at her pleasure. And indeed they make grace as voluble and uncertain, as ever the Heathen did fortune. And if they would speak out, grace with them is ●es vitrea, quae dum splendet frangitur. And vasa gloriae with them are little better than vasa fictilia: they can dash them in pieces like a Potter's vessel. And then make no more of it then Epictetus at the breaking of a pitcher. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'tis but a usual thing; Hodie vidi fragilem frangi. Vain men that think the grace of God as mutable and unconstant as they themselves are, that can remove men from heaven to hell as often as they please, that with a daring Pen can blot names out of the book of Life, and reverse the seal of heaven when they list. This must needs strike at the root of Assurance, and leave the soul in such sad doubts as these. 'Tis true, I am now feeding upon the milk and honey of the land of Canaan; but I may return to the wilderness again, to the bondage of Egypt again. 'Tis true, I am now a Temple of the holy Ghost; but how soon may I become a prison, a dungeon, the receptacle of every unclean spirit? What though I be now a vessel of honour, how soon may I become a vessel of wrath? and though I be for the present in the loving hand of a Saviour, yet I may be to morrow in the unmerciful paw of the Lion. Pray tell us now, has the soul any great security all this while? are the friends of God no surer of his love then thus? 'Tis happy for Christians, that 'tis not in the power of these men; no, nor of all the powers of darkness, to put a period to their joy; no, not to put the least comma or interruption to it. No, they may assoon dethrone the Majesty of heaven itself, they may assoon pluck the Crown from his head, and wrest the golden Sceptre out of his hand: nay, they may assoon pluck out the Apple of his eye, they may assoon annihilate a Deity, as pull thee out of his hands, as rob him of one of his Jewels. Thou art kept by the mighty power of God through faith unto salvation. We can't close up this better than with that heavenly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, those triumphant expressions of the Apostle Paul: For I am persuaded, that neither life, nor death, nor Angels, nor Principalities, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, etc.  
4. They never had any Assurance themselves, and so they would willingly deny it to others. There is so much pride and envy in the spirits of men, as that they are very loath, that others should have more happiness, or be more sensible of happiness than themselves. They do here Calamum in Cord tingere; they tell you what they find in their own hearts, nothing but conjectures, and shiverings, and tremble, nothing but slavish doubts and fears. But the voice of Assurance, 'tis a still voice, the Spirit speaks; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. That soul only hears it, to which it speaks. The sparklings of the White Stone are secret and undiscernible to a carnal eye: No man knows it, but he that has it. 'Tis Manna 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; not the visible and obvious Manna that was reigned down by the tents of the Israelites, but that that was reserved, and laid up in Vrna aurea. Spiritual tastes and relishes, spiritual experiences, they are wholly unexpressible, they are altogether unimitable. There are two things which the most refined and accomplished Hypocrite can't possibly reach unto. (1.) He can't express the life and power of a Christian. (2.) He can't express the joy of a Christian. As no man can paint the Being of a thing, so no man can paint the sweetness of a thing. Who ever could paint the sweetness of the Honeycomb? the sweetness of a cluster of Canaan? the fragrancy of the Rose of Sharon? the sweet voice of a Lute? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. The Painter's eye steals a little beauty from the face; and perhaps his hand makes restitution, restoring it again in the picture, and that's all you can expect of him; nay, 'tis well if he perform so much: As for the expression of vitals, or the representation of essentials, 'tis Vltra Penecillum▪ so that he must let this alone for ever. Believe it, Sincerity can't be painted. The joy of the holy Ghost can't be painted. 'Tis easier painting of faces, then of hearts. Men in an unregenerate condition, can't know what Assurance is, till their hearts be changed, or unless they could read the hearts of God's people. Men will deny the most certain and unquestionable things, if they themselves have no experience of them. Upon this account many a fool has said in his heart, There is no God; because he had no communion with him, he did not attend upon him. Thus others deny that there is any such sweetness in the ways of God, because they were never acquainted with them.  
In Music, what though there be never such variety of graces, such inarticulate elegancies, such soft and silken touches, such quick stings and pleasant relishes, such musical amplifications, and flourishes, such nimble transitions and delicious closes; you'll scarce convince a deaf man of all this, till you can give him his hearing. Or suppose a blind man should obstinately deny that there were a Sun; truly I can't tell how you could well convince him, unless you could give him an eye, or else persuade him that he is defective in somewhat which others have. To speak of Assurance, and the voice of the Spirit to some, is but to speak Riddles and Paradoxes. Here I have told you much of Light, and Beams, and Glory; I had as good told some of you, of clouds, and shadows, and darkness. I have spoke much to you of the fruits and clusters of Canaan; had I not as good have set before some of you briers and thorns, would you not have had as much sweetness in them? I never promised to show you the Manna; for I told you 'twas hidden: yet we have told you the things which we have seen and known, and what we have tasted of the Word of Life; and that which I doubt not, but many of you can set your seals unto.  
We come now to take off that vain and frivolous Cavil, that Assurance is a principle of Libertinism; that the Apples which the Spouse longs for in the Canticles, will breed too much wind; that hidden Manna will breed worms, that those flagons full of wine, which the Spouse would so fain be comforted withal, will fume up too much into the head. O, say they▪ if men be once assured of their salvation, they may then do what they list. But  
1. God won't put now wine into old bottles. God never prints his love upon the heart, till the heart be renewed and prepared with Evangelical melt; and the same Seal that prints his love, prints his Image too. A flinty heart won't take the seal of the Spirit The sparkling White Stone is never given, till the heart of stone be taken away. The new name is not given, till the new creature be framed. God will not distil one silver drop of such precious sweetness upon the soul, till it be enclosed for his own garden. And though the outward Sunshine with liberal and undistinguishing beams, shines both upon the good and the bad, upon the Rose and Nettle; yet the light of God's countenance beams out only upon the Apples of his own eye: the Sunshine of his gracious presence, gilds only the vessels of Honour, and puts a lustre upon none but his own Jewels. And though the pourings forth of ordinary goodness fall upon a wilderness sometimes, as well as on a Paradise; yet these more choice and luscious influences of heaven, slide only into the hearts of Gods peculiar ones. Believe it, thy soul must first become an Ark of the Covenant, before thou shalt ever have a Pot of hidden Manna in it.  
'Tis true, that if God should thus display his goodness, and seal up his love to the soul, whilst it were still in an unregenerate condition, whilst it did still hanker after its lusts and corruptions, 'twould then indeed sport itself more securely in this Sunshine of mercy, and turn this grace of God into wanto●nesse. Thus men of sordid and ignoble spirits, will trespass more upon a friend, then upon an enemy; an injury will keep them in better order, than a courtesy. Thus nettles will sting most violently, when they are handled most gently. Thus the wretched Indians adore the Devil, because he is their enemy, and neglect the Majesty of heaven, because 'tis so propitious. When God shines out upon ungrateful dunghills, they return him nothing but venomous and malignant evaporations. We'll easily acknowledge, that if these men should have the White Stone, they would trample upon it: For you see how they deal with ordinary mercy, which the bounty of heaven heaps upon their heads.  
There are such Pleonasms of love in God, such run over of goodness, as that much falls upon these. God breaks the box of common mercies, and fills the whole world with the savour of it. But what tribute and Revenues of glory has he from them for all this? Why, they violate his Laws, and profane his Name, and fight against him with his own weapons, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, with his most precious mercies, gifts and parts, and all they have shall oppose him that gave them. Of their Jewels they make a golden Calf. Do you think now that God will trust these with his more special mercies, with his viscera and tender mercies? He tried the vessel with water, and 'twon't hold that. Do you think he will pour wine into it? No, God reveals his love to none but to his friends; he sets his Seal to none, but to such whom he sets as a Seal upon his heart and on his arm; such as have an happy conformity to him, and a full compliance with him; such as have the same interests, and the same glorious ends with himself; such as delight in his Law, and feed upon his precepts▪ as upon an honeycomb. Do you think he mayn't trust these with his mind; such as have a plain antipathy against sin, against the very picture and appearance of sin; such as prefer Hell itself before it; such as loathe it, even as himself loathes it; men that are ready to pluck out their right eyes for him, to cut off their right hands for him? Do you think he mayn't manifest his love to these? What says the Apostle John? He that is borne of God cannot sin; 'tis a plain impossibility that he should so far put off his filial affection, as to make it his work to displease him: much less can he take so strong an advantage of his goodness, as therefore to provoke him, because he knows that God loves him. These men only tell us what they would do if they had Assurance; but truly they are not like to have it, till their hearts be changed, and then they'll be of another mind.  
2. Love is a sweeter and surer and stronger principle of obedience than fear. So that God did infatuate the counsel of that Achitophel, Machiavelli I mean, when he stilled that venom into the hearts of Princes, that they had better rule their Subjects with a Rod of iron, then with a Sceptre of gold; that they had better enslave them by fear, then engage them by love. The truth is, he had given them such Rules, that he knew if they followed them, they could not possibly be loved; and therefore he would fain persuade them, that 'tis better to be feared. And though this may seem to add some sparklings to Majesty, and to brighten the Crown of Sovereignty; yet it leaves it far more tottering, more unfixt and unsettled upon their heads. There is such a virulency mixed with fear: such a tincture of hatred in it; both these affections are much of a colour, sad and pale. And therefore that Tyrant was so wise yet as to expect hatred; Oderint dum metuant, says he, he knew whilst they feared him, that they would hate him; And then there is a reluctancy and Aversation in fear; And those workings upon the soul, that come only from terrors, they usually prove Abortive. And what though a body be pulled and haled and scared into obedience? the soul is not conquered with all this. A slave does but watch an opportunity for shaking off the yoke. And then there is a depressing and disenabling power in fear, it contracts and freezes up the motions of the soul; it eclipse the wings, it takes off the wheels, it unbends the bow. Trembling and Paralytic motions are weak and languishing. Indeed fear 'tis nothing but Praecox tristitia, a crude and indigested kind of sorrow; and 'tis the sourer, because it is not ripe. And therefore God himself that is a most absolute Monarch, and has a boundless and infinite supremacy over all things; yet has far more glory from them that love him, and only passive obedience from them that fear him. Indeed he never goes about to rule any by fear, but those that have first trampled upon Love, and are no longer Subjects, but professed Rebels. 'Tis love that glews and fastens the whole Creation together. Those seeds of love which God himself, (who is love) has scattered amongst Being's; those sparks of love which God himself, (who is love,) has kindled amongst Being's, and those indelible prints of love which God himself, (who is love,) has stamped upon Being's, maintain the whole fabric of the world in its just beauty and proportion. The harmonious composure of Being's▪ the tuning of the several strings, makes them sound out his praise more melodiously. O how comely is it to see the sweet context and coherence of Being's, the loving connexion and concatenation of causes: one being espoused to another in faithfulness and truth; the mutual clasp and twine, the due benevolence of entities. Behold, how goodly a thing it is and pleasant to behold Being's, like Brethren to dwell together in unity: It calls to mind those precious drops of love, that fall from the head of the first Being, and fell down upon the skirts of inferior entities. And is not there as much of this love to be seen in the new Creation, in the work of grace in the soul? Is not the foundation of the second Temple laid in love? is not the top and pinnacle of it set up by a hand of love? Are not the polishings and carvings of it, the works and expressions of love? the witty inventions of love? Is not the structure maintained and repaired at the constant expenses of love? Is it not inhabited by a Prince of love? one more loving than Solomon is there; nay, what is the whole Gospel else, but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a cluster of Redemption, as some render it; what is it else but a bundle of love?  
The Law that was an hammer to break hearts; I, but the Gospel that's a key to open hearts. And truly all the terrors of Mount Sina, the thunderclaps and the lightning flashes, the earthquakes and the smoking of the Mountain, and the voice of the Trumpet, have not so much power and prevalency in them, as one still drop that falls from Mount Zion. You are now come to the Mount of Olives, a Mount of Peace and sweetness, a Mount that drops fatness, and in this Mount will Christ be seen. And he comes to restore all things to their Primitive love: he restores the powers and faculties of the soul to their first and original concord; he knits his gifts and graces in the bond of love: he comes to reconcile Being's, to make antipathies kiss each other. The Wolf and the Lamb must be at peace, the Leopard and the Kid must lie down together. The whole Gospel like the midst of Solomon's bed in the Canticles, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 'tis paved with Love. Now sure you can't question whether this be the more prevailing way: For, O think but a while, what a potent oratory there is in love, what a welcome tyranny, what a silken bondage, what a downy and soft necessity. Glorious things are spoken of thee, thou Lady and Queen of Affections! thou art the firstborn of the soul, and the beginning of its strength. Who would not be captivated by so sweet a Conqueror? Who would not be mel●ed in so delicate a flame? What heart would not entertain so pleasant an arrow? The Psalmist was struck through with one of thy darts, when he panted so after the streams of water. The Apostle Paul had another of thy arrows sticking fast in him, when he cried out, The love of Christ constrains me▪ Vulnus ●lit venis, & S●cro carpitur igni. Believe it, the strongest arguments are fetched out of Love's Topics. We need not use many persuasions to such a soul, it has a fountain of Rhetoric within. There is a present expansion and amplification of spirit for the wellcomming of so happy an object. O how will such a soul twine about a Precept, suck sweetness out of a Command, catch at an opportunity, long for a Duty! How does it go like a Bee from flower to flower, from Duty to Duty, from Ordinance to Ordinance, and extract the very spirits and quintessence of all, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, crop the very tops of all. There will be in such a soul, the constant returnings and reboundings of love. 'Twill retort the beams of heaven, 'twill send back the stream of its affection into the Ocean. So that now as the soul is assured of the love of God, so God also has a most absolute certainty that the soul will 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And thus is completed the sweet and perfect circle of Love. Now there cannot be a more strong and a more mutual security, then that which is thus founded▪ And therefore nature chooses to maintain herself by these impressions. We see this plainly in filial and conjugal relations, where the sweetest and surest obedience flows from principles of love. And where is there more certainty then amongst friends; where there is a borrowing and lending of souls, a mutual exchange and transmigration of souls? Now you know all these Relations are clarified and refined in grace; you are the friends of God; nay, you are the Sons of God, you are the Spouse of Christ. And the Apostle John, that speaks so much of Assurance, and tells you that a Christian can't sin; consider but a while, who he was. Why, he was the Beloved Disciple, he that lay in the bosom of love, and breathed out nothing but pure love. ay, and his reason, 'tis founded in a relation of love: He cannot sin, because he is borne of God. He resolves it into the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that same impression of love that abides in him.  
3. Consult a while with your own experience and observation, and then tell us whether ever you knew any to walk more accurately with their God, than such as were assured of his love. If you look up to heaven, there you see glorious Angels, and glorified Saints, that have not only a full Assurance, but a full possession of the love of their God: that are no longer taking a prospect of Canaan, but are now feeding upon the fruits and clusters of the land of Promise: that have not only some scattered, and broken beams of glory, but a constant and an eternal Sunshine. And O how do they 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 only, but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. They have not only as we here below, some drops and sprinklings of happiness; but they are at the very Fountain, and have fresh bubblings of joy, full streamings out of sweetness, and can swim in the rivers of pleasure. Surely these men will allow the Angels somewhat more than only to conjecture that they are happy. What must glorified Saints still dispute about their Summum Bonum, lest they be too secure; and must Angels only be of opinion, that they are in heaven? must they only guess at the face of God? What▪ will they clip the wings of the Cherubims too? Where has God more cheerful obedience then from these? How joyfully do these ministering Spirits run about their glorious errands? How does he bid one▪ Go, and he goes, and another, Come, and he comes. And that which sets a fair gloss upon happiness itself is this, that they are out of all possibility of displeasing their God. And so they are held forth as patterns of obedience; Thy will be done in earth as 'tis in heaven.  
Well, but than if they tell us that there is more danger of frail men that dwell in houses of clay, and carry the body of death about with them.  
1. We must bid them entertain honourable thoughts of the Excellent ones of the Earth: for though it be true that they are not yet 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; yet God has made them little lower than the Angels, and he has crowned them with glory and honour. They walk with little coronets upon their heads: Though the most massy and brightest crown be reserved for a day of Inauguration. They now feed upon Angel's food. God steeps them in his own nature, and in his own love; he gradually prepares them for heaven. They are Inceptours in happiness, they are Probationers for glory.  
2. What though there be some unworthy dealings with their God, yet these flow only from those relics of slavish principles that remain in them, some fragments of the old Leaven that was not throughly purged out. And not by virtue of a Gospel-Plerophory. What does the knowing that they are Sons of light, does this dispose them to works of darkness? Does the knowing that they are the Spouse of Christ, does this bespeak adulterous glances? 'Tis true, the Sons of God may provoke him, but must they therefore needs do it under this very notion, because they know they are his Sons? nay, must they do it the more for this? This were the extremest malice that were imaginable; more malice than the devils themselves are capable of. What bold blasphemy than is this against the Sons of God, and against the sealing Spirit. ay, and it envolves a flat contradiction too, it puts an esse and a non esse simul; because they know they are friends, therefore they'll deal like enemies; and because they know they're Sons, therefore they'll deal like slaves. O what fine repugnancies are these? Thus would they not only veil and cloud, but also spot and deface so beautiful a Truth; but that it shines out with such victorious and triumphant beams. But if any can yet doubt, whether Assurance do advance obedience, let them but a while compare men assured of their salvation: (1.) With others in the state of grace that want Assurance, or with themselves when once without it: And then let them tell us, whether they don't differ as much as a bruised Reed, and a stately Cedar in Lebanon? The doubting Christian does but smoke, when the assured Christian flames. What faintings and shiverings and paleness in the one? what vigour and liveliness, what a ruddy complexion of soul in the other? How is the one left to the pleasure of a wave, when as the other lies safe at Anchor. The one can scarce lift up his weak and trembling hands in prayer, when the other is wrestling with Omnipotency. The one comes behind and touches the hem of his Saviour's garments, when as the other is in his very arms and embraces. The one dares scarce touch a Promise, scarce cast an eye upon a Promise; when as the other claims it, and grasps it, and appropriates it. The performances of the one are green, and crude, and unconcocted; the others are ripened, and mellowed with a stronger Sunbeam of Love. The one like a Lute with his strings loose and languishing; the other is tuned up to its just height of affection. The one like a Bow bend, sends forth his arrows very vigorously; the other does but drop them, and let them fall. How does Satan wound the one with many a fiery dart, that the other quenches! How does the one fear the roaring of the Lion, which the other tramples under his feet! (2.) If you should compare them with men in an unregenerate condition; O what a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, what a vast gulf is there between them? Sure you don't question, whether God has more service from Israelites that feed upon hidden Manna; or from Egyptians that feed upon Garlic and Onions? Men that are under the damning and domineering power of lusts, and are only kept a little in awe, by some thunderings from Mount Sinai: Though they spend a few sighs sometimes, and drop a few tears sometimes; yet when they are thus washed, how soon do they return to their wallowing in the mire? The chaining of a Wolf, does that meeken and soften him? or the putting a hook into Leviathan, does that transform him? Though wicked men by fears and terrors have their bounds set them, like the Sea, which they cannot pass; Yet they are still like the raging Sea, they swell and foam and cast out their mire and dirt. And who more wicked than they that are desperate? Those black and damned Potentates of hell, because they are out of all possibility of mercy; how do they act ad extremum virium in all expressions of malice and wickedness? And therefore God out of his infinite goodness, though he does usually seal men up to life and happiness, and lets them make their Calling and Election sure; yet he does scarce ever, or very rarely so seal men up to ruin, so as to let them know certainly that they are Reprobates: for this would make them desperate; there would be no living with them in the world. Or if he does show them this, he does withal let them run into some act of violence, that presently frees the world from them. That hope which wicked men have of being saved, though it be groundless, yet it keeps them within their bounds and compass. Though it be but like the Spider's web; yet the very spinning of that web, keeps them in the mean while from a full expression of their venom. And that same shadow of obedience which God has from Hypocrites, 'tis founded in some shadow of hope that they please themselves in: and when this hope of their own framing vanishes and deceives them, than they back-slide and apostatise.  
4. Are there not other judgements enough to waken them out of a sinful security? are there not Rods? are there not Scorpions? is there nothing but present disinheriting? Sure you cannot but remember that famous place where God speaks to David, and points at Solomon, Psal. 89. 32, 33. If his children break my statutes, etc. God will make his own people know that 'tis a bitter thing to depart from him, and to forsake their first love. Nay, this is most certain, that wicked men themselves are not capable of such severe temporal judgements as the Sons of God are. That which is here done to the green tree, cannot be done to the dry. For  
(1.) They may fall from Assurance. Though they can't lose the seed and the root of grace, yet they may lose the flourishing and fragrancy of it. Though the foundation of God remain sure, yet they may fall from their top and eminency. Though they be built upon a Rock, yet they may be dashed with waves. Though the Seal of God be of an eternal efficacy, yet they may deface the Print and sculpture of it, so as that it may not be visible to their eye. Now what a sad alteration will this be? Thou must not look for any more stroakings, for any more smiles▪ for love-glances any more. Thou must bid thy fountains of joy farewell. Thou must not look to see thy Spouse flourishing through the Lattices any more. Thou must expect clouds, and shadows, and veils, and curtains, and walls of separation. The figtree of Canaan shall not blossom, and there shall be no fruit in the Vines, and the labour of the Olive shall fail. Thou must pass many a day without one Sunbeam; God will seal up his sweetest influences, he will shut up the windows of heaven and stop the bottles of heaven; he will rain down no more Manna upon thee. Go to thy husks, and see if they I feed thee. Nay  
(2) They may not only fall from Assurance, but even in a total desertion look upon God as an enemy, and instead of a filial Plerophory, may come to afearful expectation of the fiercest wrath of God. Now this I say is more judgement then wicked men are capable of here; in this respect that they never had his love once revealed to them: Whereas these are thrown down from the very pinnacle of the Temple. And God does not only eclipse the lustre of their former joy; but dips his Pen in gall, and writes bitter things against them. He was wont to shoot nothing but the fiery darts of Love; I, but now his envenomed arrows stick fast in them. They did once furfet of the Grapes and Clusters of Canaan; but now he hedges them in with briers and thorns. They were wont to taste of a cup of sweetness, a cup of love; but he has now prepared for them a cup of trembling and astonishment. They had once a Springtime, a budding, a blossoming-time, the dew of heaven dropped on them, the beams of heaven visited them: But now comes a sad and disconsolate Autumn, a fading and withering time. Their gloss and greenness is gone; Heaven reveals itself in thunderings and lightning flashes against them, so as they shall even envy green Bay-trees, than men of the world that are free from all this. Now is not this enough to keep a soul in awe? The Psalmist was very near this which we speak of; He often tells you, that his joy was put out, that his peace was gone, that he was even ground to powder, that he was banished from the face of his God; that he was excommunicated from that happy and heavenly intercourse with God, which once he had. These are frequent complaints; And yet he was one▪  
1. Of a pleasant and cheerful Temper. The Scripture paints him out as one of a Sanguine complexion, the men of the world would have said he had been melancholy else. He was one that was like a green Olive-tree in the house of his God; a most flourishing and fruitful Christian. As if he had been one of the Church triumphant, he was always singing fresh Hallelujahs. He had a soft and delicate touch upon the Harp, he could still Saul's evil spirit with his music; I, but he could not thus tune and compose his own troubled and distempered spirit. He was fain now to hang his Harp upon the willows; and the voice of his Lute was turned into sighing. And if he does sing sometimes with a thorn at his breast, 'tis some penitential Psalm or other.  
2. And yet all this while he was a King upon the Throne, he wanted not the pomp and bravery of the world. I but a Sceptre won't conquer fears, and a Crown of gold will not cure an aching head, much less an aching heart. The smiles of the world they brought him to all this, and therefore he can't take much complacency in them. And then for when he does so often envy the men of the world, and is ready to stumble at the prosperity of the wicked; it was not so much for the outward things of the world which they enjoyed, for those he had himself too in a plentiful measure; but it was for the quietness of their spirits, they were calm and serene, if compared with him, not in such fears and doubts as he now was: they had not such conflicts and Paroxysmes and tumultuations of soul as he now had. And yet he was one that once had the face of God shining out upon him. And therefore he desires him to restore the joy of his salvation: Lucem red, abes jam nimiùm diu; Instar veris enim vultus u●i tuus affulsito, populo gratior it dies & soles meli●s nitent, as he once spoke to Augustus.  
So that you see here are ways enough to keep men from a carnal security. And thus we have took off that bold calumny, so as we hope that, Nihil adhaerebit.  
Having laid open at large the nature of Assurance; we now come to handle briefly the second observation; And that is  

Observ. 2.  Christian Assurance requires and calls for diligence.  
Sure I need not tell you, that the most precious things are Cabinetted and locked up under difficulties. If you look to Nature, you see how she reserves her Jewels in secret repositories; she sets them in her own bosom, and enhances their price by rarity. There is, indeed, a vein for silver, as Job speaks; but Nature is not so profuse to open it, to let it run waste, and exhaust herself. she hides her treasures, and puts them out of the reach of an ordinary Plunderer.  
Or, if you look to Arts: There are indeed some things which float at the top, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, those that are but initiated into them, are presently acquainted with them; Hence some beginners, when they have but tasted these, think they have a present kind of Omniscience. O but stay a while, there are most mysterious things, which lurk at the bottom, and require a profounder search: they must dive deep before they fetch up these Pearls. Thus 'tis in Languages, the choicest elegancies many times are couched in Idioms, those arcana linguarum, you may see them like so many Pearls glittering amongst the rubbish of the Tower of Babel. Thus 'tis in civil affairs, some things are visible and obvious to a vulgar eye; the rude heap and mass of people can take notice of them: some wheels move so plainly, as that they can see them. ay, but there are more secret springs of motion, more intimate contrivances, politic riddles, which they only can read that are à secretioribus. Every design must not have a window in it, 'tis comely sometimes to see Moses with a Veil upon his face.  
And thus 'tis in the wise Oeconomy and dispensation of the Gospel. 'Tis true, the whole Gospel is pregnant with heavenly mysteries: 'Tis like that heavenly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the milky way, which the wise ones of the world take for a Meteor only, a brief 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; I, but those that are enlightened from above, know that 'tis made up ex flore lucis, 'tis compounded of Stars less discernible; and even here one Star differs from another in glory. There are Mysteria primae magnitudinis, such transcendent and dazzling mysteries, as that the Eagle must be fain to shut her eye, and the Seraphim must be glad to wink. And there are not only intellectual, but practical depths in the way of Religion: And Christian Plerophory is one of these. For a soul to be filled with the breathe of the Spirit; And to move with full sail in the Ocean of God's love; And when it pleases to lie safe at Anchor; I, and to be sure of coming safe to the haven, certainly the soul must needs cry out all the while 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, O the depth of the goodness, and love of God how mysterious are his ways, how are his mercies past finding out!  
(1.) Now for a Christian to arrive to so full a sense of God's love, hic labour, hoc opus est:  
It requires diligence; For  
1. There are but few that have any right and interest in the love of God in Christ, at all.  
2. Of those few that have a share and portion in his love, yet all of them have not assurance of his love. There are but few that enter into the Temple; I, but there is only some Aaron that enters into the sanctum sanctorum, and casts his Anchor within the Veil. And  
First, there are but few upon whom God bestoweth his love. 'Twas always a principle in Morality, that sweet and intimate friendship cannot be extended to many. Friends usually go by pairs. Now God, though he be of vast and boundless love, and has love enough to satisfy a multitude of worlds, yet he has chose ●o concentricate it all in a few picked out of the world: that he might thus engage them the more to himself. His large and precious love is kept for his only Spouse.  
Secondly, of those few whom he loves, some are not assured of his love. He loved them all from everlasting, yet none of them could be then assured of his love. A nonentity cannot reach to a Plerophory. Well, but when they peeped out of their first nothing, truly they were not any rare objects of love: much less could they then be assured of the love of their God; when they were in a state of enmity and opposition, and the children of wrath as well as others: Well, but when he put them into a state of love, and made them lovely with that beauty and comeliness, with those jewels and bracelets, which he had put upon them: when he loved them as his new creatures, as his vessels of honour, that were now cast into their just mould and fashion: When he loved them, as his newborn sons: yet these babes in Christ could not presently cry Abba Father. They were his Epistle, written in a fair and goodly character, dated from eternity, folded up and kept secret, at length sent into the world: the superscription was writ in time, in Vocation: Well, but all this while they were not sealed, till the spirit comes and stamps a clear impression of God's love upon their soft'ned and melted spirits. 'Tis true, they were sealed as soon as they were written, in God's eternal Decree, but they were not visibly sealed, till now. Now what pant and breathe? What longings and entreaties? What preparations were there in the soul, before it could obtain this?  
Secondly, it requires diligence to keep assurance. O take heed of wasting and crumbling away thy hidden Manna. God may break the staff of bread, and what will thy weary soul do then? Take heed of losing the White Stone, take heed of forgetting thy new name. O maintain the Oil of gladness in the Cruse. Thou that art a Vine of Canaan laden with generous fruit; wouldst thou willingly part with thy sweetness, and fruifulnesse? Thou that art a green Olive-tree flourishing in the house of thy God; wouldst thou be content to part with thy fatness, and pleasantness? Thou wert wont to stay and Anchor thy soul upon thy God; And wouldst thou now be left to the courtesy of a wave? What? Art thou in love with the Tents of Kedar? They are black indeed; And dost thou think them comely too? Art thou weary of the Sunshine? And wouldst thou cool thyself in the shade? Dost thou begin to loathe thy hidden Manna, and wouldst thou return to the Garlic and Onions of Egypt? Art thou cloyed with the clusters of Canaan, and dost thou nauseate the Honeycomb? O remember, thou didst not so soon obtain assurance, and wilt thou so soon lose it?  
Thirdly, give diligence to recover assurance, if lost: O when will the winter be passed? when will the rain be over and gone? that the flowers may appear, and the time of singing may come: That the Vines of Canaan may flourish again, that the tender Grapes may appear. Awake O south-wind, and with thy gentle breathe, blow upon the Garden, that the Spices thereof may flow out! Never leave till thou findest thy Spouse again, thou that art sick of love: Tell him that thou longest for a cluster of Canaan; That thou art even famished for want of hidden Manna. Desire a new edition of his love, with all the enlargements of affections. Lay thine heart before him, and desire new stamps & impressions; tell him that though thou hast lost the print, yet he has not lost the Seal: Tell him that thou wilt now prise his love more than thou ever didst or couldst do before. Give him no rest, till he give thy soul rest, and fill it with himself. Surely thou wouldst not willingly set in a cloud: thou wouldst not go out of the world with thine Evidences blotted and blurred: Surely thou wouldst not willingly be tossed and dashed with waves in sight of the haven. Hadst thou not rather go to thy grave in peace? O desire himto shine out upon thee a little before thou goest hence, and be nomore seen.  
(2.) Now surely, we need not tell you, why Assurance does thus require diligence, For  
1. You know the heart's deceitfulness, how it loves to please itself in a shadow, in a painted joy, to flatter itself into an imaginary happiness. Most men in the world are so confident of heaven, as if they had been borne heirs apparent to the Crown of glory: as if this new name had been given them at their baptism, or as if they had been born with hidden Manna in their mouths. They never knew what a question or a scruple was, nay they wonder that others trouble themselves with them; as for them, they have a connate kind of Plerophory▪ These fabri fortunae suae▪ have a key to heaven of their own making, and can go to it when they please. These crown themselves with their own sparks, and think them more glittering and precious than the White Stone. As if they were Custodes sigilli, they can ●eale themselves to the day of redemption when they please. Thus do vain men cheat their own souls: when as 'twere their wiser way, rather to commune with their own spirits, to criticise upon their own hearts, to see what a false print they are of, what false glosses there be, what variae lectiones? what corruptions and degenerations from the Original? whether there be any spiritual Idioms? what are the genuine works of the Spirit? what are spurious and supposititious?  
2. Give diligence, because thou hast a diligent enemy that would so fain quench thy joy, and keep it from flaming into Assurance. He envied the grain of Mustardseed, when 'twas first sown: how then does it vex him to see it now spread into such goodly branches▪ that the soul can build its nest there? He envied thee the first blushes of the day, the buddings of the Rosy morning; that those fair and Virgin eyelids should open and glance their light upon thee: how then is he scorched with thy fuller Sunshine? How do his eyes water at thy noonday brightness? He that would have broke thee when thou wert a bruised Reed, how would he triumph in thy fall, now thou art a stately Cedar? If he could, he would have dispirited and took off the vigour of that immortal seed, by which thou wert born again; He would fain have spit his venom into that sincere milk, which fed thy infant-soul; how then does he envy thee those flagons of wine, with which thou art now quickened and inflamed? He would fain have hindered the foundation of the second Temple, and now he would fain demolish the structure, and down with it even to the ground.  
That son of the morning fell himself not only from a complete Assurance, but from a possession of glory; and that into the most extreme darkness that was imaginable, into a total impossibility of ever being happy; and now he would very fain (as much as he can) envolve others in the same condition: But certainly it does add much of hell to him, in that he perceives that the sons of God are now fixed in an immutable condition; whereas he was left in so voluble a state, so that now all that he can possibly do is this, to damp their joy for the present▪ to raise clouds, and storms, and tempests; And in this that Prince of the air does his endeavour to the utmost. And yet Christians may frustrate him here too, and by a strong and clasping hand of faith, may lay such fast hold of a God in Christ, as that they may even make the Devil give over: and to all his former, may add this new despair of ever eclipsing their glory: and may send him away as weary as he would be, if he should go about to interrupt the joy of a glorified Saint, or of one of those Angels that still dwell in glory. So that the more frequent his Alarms are, the more should Christians stand upon their watch, the more should they fortify themselves, and look to their spiritual Panoply: they should fly to the name of the Lord, which is a strong Tower.  
3. Give diligence, because 'tis in a matter of so great consequence: and to be deceived here will prove the most stinging aggravation of misery that can be. The house that was built upon the sand, great was the fall of it. There is a counterfeit Plerophory, a blazing kind of Assurance, a bragging kind of confidence, you know the name of it, 'tis called Presumption, that great devourer of souls, that uses to slay its ten thousands; 'Tis so far from being an Anchor, as that 'tis but a swelling and impostumated wave, which tosses up the soul a while, that it may sink the deeper. And can there be a greater Emphasis of misery than this? Thou took'st it for granted, that thou wert in the ready way to heaven, and now thou art dropping into hell irrecoverably: Thou expected'st no less than a crown of glory, but canst find nothing but chains of darkness and a gnawing worm. How golden was thy dream of happiness? didst thou not fancy the light and beams of heaven ripening the fruits of Canaan for thee? didst not thou think thyself upon the top of Mount Pisgah, refreshed with soft and delicate breathe, taking a full prospect of the beautiful land of Promise? Nay didst not thou think that some of the milk and honey of the land flowed into thy mouth? That thou wert plucking off green Apples from the trees? Nay, that thou hadst the very tastes and relishes of the Olives, and Figs, and Pome-granates, and Grapes in thy mouth? But behold, thou wakest, and art in a Wilderness, amongst Briers and thorns, amongst fiery Serpents, in a dry and thirsty land, where no sweetness is▪ Thou took'st that for the whispering of the Spirit, which was but the hissing of the Serpent. Thou thought'st thyself in the very Suburbs of the new Jerusalem, in the Temple, in the sanctum sanctorum; when as thou wert all this while but in an Egypt, in a Babylon, in a Prison, in a Dungeon. Thou didst exalt thyself like the Eagle, and build thy nest in the Stars: But with what indignation wert thou swept from thence? How thou art fallen, O Lucifer, son of the morning!  
(3.) Consider what kind of diligence is required. And  
1. Be diligent in self-reflexion. A clean heart chews the cud, and ruminates upon its own actions: Give thy heart frequent visits, and see whether it keeps that print which the sealing Spirit stamped upon it: read over thine Evidences; if there be the least blot wash it out. Try thy graces by a Scripture-Sun-beam. Hast thou within a continual feast? Why then dost not thou invite thy thoughts thither, that they may be satisfied as with marrow and fatness? Why dost not thou compel them to come in? Let them drink sweetness out of their own fountain, let them bless the womb that bore them, and the breasts that gave them suck.  
Let them be afraid of entering into their hearts, that have no quietness within, unless like the Leviathan, they can sport themselves in a raging sea, that foams out mire and dirt. But thou canst steep and bathe thy thoughts in a calm and composed spirit. Why dost not thou listen to thine own music? Why dost not thou glance upon thine own beauty? Assurance consists in a reflex act▪ and by such workings 'tis maintained, iisdem alitur, quibus gignitur.  
2. Be diligent in Prayer. Believe it, assurance does not come with those weak wishes and velleities, that are so frequent in the mouths of many, O that we were sure of heaven, of happiness! O that our souls were well provided for! O that we knew what should become of them to eternity! Truly these are but gaping and yawning desires, as if hidden Manna would drop into their mouths. This great blessing requires a wrestling prayer. The White Stone is given to none but a Conqueror. The Spirit won't set his seal to a faint and languishing velleity. An Echo won't answer a whisperer; a weak voice is not worth a rebound.  
The truth is, there is a great deal of Vicinity and friendship, nay I think I might say Consanguinity, between Assurance and Prayer. Prayer should be Plerophoria quaedam explicata. Assurance does mightily enliven and animate Prayer, and Prayer does 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, cherish and maintain Assurance.  
Go then unto thy God, and be importunate with him: beg a smile, a glance, a beam of his face: desire him to take all worldly things again, unless he will sweeten them with his love. Tell him, thou canst no longer feed upon husks, and desire him to give thee somewhat that's fit for a soul to live on.  
3. Be diligent and frequent in communion with thy God. Conversing with God puts a lustre and radiancy upon the soul; descending to the creature, puts a Veil upon that former brightness; sweet and familiar intercourse with thy God, puts thee into the number of his friends; and friendship brings Assurance and Confidence along with it.  
Would God (dost thou think?) admit thee into his most shining and beautiful presence? would he thus display himself to thee, and make known his most secret treasures of goodness and sweetness unto thy soul, unless he loved thee? would thy Saviour thus smile upon thee? would he thus unbosom and unbowel himself to thee? would he thus flourish in at the lattices, unless he were thy Spouse? would he thus kiss thee with the kisses of his mouth? would he tell thee so much of his mind, unless his heart were with thee? would he accept of thy prayers and thy performances, thy spiritual sacrifices, if he meant to destroy thee? didst thou ever know him deal thus deceitfully with any? would he give thy soul such frequent visits▪ such gentle breathe? would he so often whisper to thee, that which the world must not hear, if thou wert an enemy as well as they? canst thou think thyself▪ in darkness, when the Sun looks upon thee? Canst thou doubt of quenching thy thirst, when the fountain bubbles out, and flows upon thee? Canst thou doubt of liberty in the year of Jubilee? What is the Dove in the Ark, and yet can it find no rest to the sole of her feet? Canst thou question thy safety under the wings of Christ? No, whatever it was that put out thy joy, it did first estrange and alienate thee from thy God. And couldst thou but recover thy former nearness to him, thou needest not doubt of the same affectionate expressions from him. Communion with God, 'tis that which gives an heavenly and eternal Plerophory; 'tis that which maintains the assurance of glorious Angels, and glorified Saints. And that which takes away all hope from the damned is this, that they are perpetually banished, irrecoverably excommunicated from the face of their God: Depart from me, I know you not: there is more in that then in fire and brimstone. But God has said unto thee, Seek my face, and let thy soul echo out its resolution, Thy face, Lord, will I seek: for all certainty flows from God, from that fixed and unshaken Entity, from that Original immutability that is in him. And when God sets his seal unto thee, he prints somewhat of this upon thee: And therefore the more God gives of himself to thee, the more Assurance he gives thee.  
Go then to the place where his honour dwells, go to the place where his glory shines. You know that the Apostle Thomas, when he was absent from the Apostles meeting, he fell into a strange distrust of that which the others were very well assured of. Go then to those Ordinances, that drop golden Oil upon the soul, and make its countenance to shine. Hide thyself in those clefts of the Rock, that God may make his goodness pass before thee. God will there beam out upon thy soul, he will warm it with his love, and will then seal it to the day of redemption.  

Observ. 3.  Christian Assurance deserves diligence.  
'Tis a miserable thing to toil for vanity and emptiness; to sow the wind, and to reap the whirlwind. But to take pains for happiness, who would not be willing to this? An Israelite that would be loath to spend his time in gathering stubble, would willingly spend it in gathering Grapes. A wise Virgin will cheerfully put in so much Oil, as will make the Lamp to shine. The soul will never be weary of gathering hidden Manna. Assurance is a very satisfactory thing; men take a present and complete acquiescence in it.  
1. Consider it in Temporals, what won't worldlings do to secure their lands, and goods, and estates? How do they seek for Bonds, and Seals, and Oaths, and Sureties; and yet think all this too little? They have set up an Ensurers Office, and will scarce venture a Ship at Sea, unless it can have an unquestionable Plerophory; unless one will secure it from wars; and another from rocks; and a third from winds and tempests. And this is one of those stings and vexations which God has put into temporals, that they are uncertain. Many a worldling has pined away under this very notion, that his riches had wings, and could fly away when they list. And this was the reason, why the Epicures were all for enjoying the present moment; because that was all they were certain of; and therefore they would have devoured and sopped up the quintessence of all happiness in a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 if they could. Thus Anacreon sings 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And this was that which made the Heathen so angry with Fortune, a goddess of their own framing, because she put them always upon blind uncertainties, This made the Stoics to run into the other extreme, to fix themselves in an unevitable certainty, in a sullen necessity, to anchor upon fate, rather than to be left to a wavering contingency.  
2. Assurance in Intellectuals is very satisfactory. There's nothing that tortures the soul more than scruples and difficulties; it makes it to dwell like a lily amongst thorns.  
The Sceptics were a perpetual wrack to themselves. Objections fly like dust into the soul's eye, and sometimes 'tis feign to weep them out. How does it vex the Naturalist that his head is so nonplussed, as that he must fly to the refuge of an occult quality? How impatient was Aristotle, what boilings and toslings in his breast more than in Euripus, because he could not give a full account of the ebbing and flowing of that river? He threw himself into it, as if he thought to find more rest there then in his own spirit, discomposed only with this uncertainty. Every question checks the understanding, and makes it remove a little from certainty, as the learned Verulam observes. Every question 'tis some grace to error, and some repulse to truth.  
But how sweetly does the mind relish those first and common notions, that carry a native light, and convincing evidence and certainty in them, and won't give the soul leave to doubt? and how does it bathe itself in those crystalline streamings out, those pure derivations of secondary notions, that freely bubble out from these fountain-principles, which for their certainty sometimes are honoured with the name of axioms? And some give this rule for a trial and touchstone of notions: Whatsoever Proposition the mind does fully close with, that is unquestionably true, because the mind can't rest satisfied but with certainty. And that which it gives but an hover and imperfect assent to, is but probably true. Now though sometimes a falsity may come under the fair disguise of an apparent certainty, yet this is also sure, that the mind cannot so fully and sweetly acquiesce in an apparent certainty, as in a real certainty. As neither can the Will so fully close with an apparent good, as with a real good; for in realities there is a sure Entity at the bottom, which is a just foundation for appearance, whereas the other is a mere colour, a surface, a shadow. And the more perfect any intellectual being is, the more of certainty it has.  
Our knowledge therefore here is but cloudy and enigmatical, shadowy and in a glass. The nearer to God any being is, the more it has of certainty. And therefore the Angels and Spirits that see God face to face, are satisfied with his image. Truth then plucks off her veil, pulls off her mask, that the soul may salute her. And this is the great Prerogative of that infinite and supreme Being, God himself, that he has an independent and eternal certainty, and beholds all beings and motions of beings past, present, and to come, without the least shadow of variation. And those things which pose created beings, are more plain and obvious to his eye, than first principles are to ours. The very intimate forms of beings are naked and anatomised before him. He looks down upon the sons of men, and sees them rolling and fluctuating, tossed and tumbled up and down in uncertainties, sometimes even questioning him in his ways and his dealings, while as he rests in a full and absolute Omniscience. And this is his great goodness, that he allows us Certainty in those things that concern our welfare and happiness.  
3. In spirituals and eternals, Assurance is very satisfactory. Religion should be above syllogisms & dispute▪ Spiritual notions should have the seal of God in their foreheads; they are not to be struck like sparks out of a flint: but are to spring like light from the Sun; they are to flow like streams from the Ocean. And Principles of Religion must be built upon a rock, upon the most sure and unquestionable grounds that can be. Men that build for eternity, had need to lay the foundation sure, and they must build gold and precious stones upon the foundation, that which has a solidity, and a firm Certainty in it. And if this were observed.  
1. You would not have such jars and divisions in the Church. You would not be so much troubled with the noise of Axes and Hammers. Imposing things questionable as certain, is agreeable to that spirit, which allows no other Assurance but this; that their Church is the true Church.  
2. The mixing and blending of Religion with uncertainties, is that which does emasculate, and dispirit, and endanger it; 'tis a dashing the wine with water; 'tis an adulterating the gold with dross, so as it won't endure the fiery trial.  
3. The taking up Religion upon uncertain grounds, does put men upon an odious lukewarmness and neutrality: for men can't be zealous for a thing they doubt of. It puts them upon variableness and unconstancy, upon the very brim of Apostasy; and (it may be) plunges them into it. Nay, it strongly tends to Atheism: some do so long question, which is the true Religion, as that at length they resolve to have none at all.  
4. The leaving the success of Religion uncertain, does damp and cool the spirits of men. The learned Moralists amongst the Heathen, could never content themselves with a fair probability only of summum bonum, but did spin it out to an imaginary certainty. The Stoics would have a domestic Plerophory, they must be unavoidably happy: A mere certainty won't suffice them, it must be condensed into a necessity. A wise man with them must irreversibly seal up himself to happiness: And so though he were in Phalaris his Bull, he must glory and triumph and sing hallelujahs. But the fairer Moralists, were willing to depend more upon the bounty of heaven, which yet they looked upon as a sure and unquestionable thing; nay, they pleased themselves not only in a Plerophory, but in a present possession. For you know virtue with them was Praecox ●eatitudo, as grace with us is glory not fully ripe. And serenity of natural conscience was their hidden Manna; their White Stone. Thus were they fain to still their souls in some shadows and appearances of certainty. This sweetened Socrates his Cicute, and made him a cheerful Martyr for Philosophy.  
And all wicked men that go on merrily and securely in their ways, do frame some imaginary certainty to themselves; which (it may be) they found upon sure principles, but falsely applied; as this, That God is merciful, or the like.  
All this I bring to show that the soul does catch at certainty, and Assurance, and will rest satisfied with nothing else. For, for men to apprehend themselves uncertain of happiness, what is it else but to be for the present miserable? Nay, would not some (do you think) choose rather to be certain of a tolerable misery, then to be in continual suspense of happiness? And truly such men as have no Assurance of obtaining this great end of their being, they are of all creatures most miserable.  
The Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, and shall not the sons of men have where to lay their heads? Every being loves certainty: How do Naturals combine together and unite their forces, that they may secure themselves by an happy association? Nature will have a Plerophory, won't admit of a vacuum, the least schism and rupture would prove fatal and put it upon uncertainties. Sir Francis Bacon spies this in those fall down of water, that thread and spin themselves into such slender ●tillicids, that thus they may preserve their continuity, and when they can reach no longer so, than they fall in as plump and round a figure as they can.  
And if every Being loves Assurance▪ than surely such a noble Being as the soul of man, cannot be satiated with a changeable good; it can't fix itself upon a movable centre. Immortality is near a kin to Immutability. Besides, if it were only this, that the ●oul did doubt of happiness, it were a lighter burden; but there is necessarily conjoined with this a fear of extremest misery. Now for a soul to be perpetually hover betwixt heaven and hell; nay, to have far more ground to fear the one, then to hope for the other, and so to tremble at the very thoughts of eternity; is not this a piece of the gnawing worm? and must the soul live in this perpetual slavery? Is there no redemption from it? Did not Christ come to take away this sting among the rest? Did not he come to draw thee to himself, to quiet thee in his own bosom? Return thee to thy Rest, O my Soul! Return to thine Ark, O my Dove! And look upon this Gospel-Plerophory, as one of those great privileges that were purchased for thee by a Saviour. For  
1. By this, thy Soul, thy darling, 'tis fully provided for, for eternity. Thy lot is fall'n to thee in a fair ground, and thou hast a goodly heritage; Could thy soul open its mouth any wider? Could thy soul desire any more than this, to be sure of being for ever completely happy? What would the damned in hell give for a possibility of happiness? What would some wounded spirits give for good hopes and probabilities? when as thou in the mean time hast an overflowing Plerophory. What would the one give for a drop to cool their tongue? What would the other give for a pure stream to wash their bleeding fowls? When as thou all the while art bathing in the fountain, art sailing in the Ocean, art swimming in the Rivers of pleasure. Thine understanding may well rest satisfied, for 'tis sure to fix its eye upon an eternal beauty; upon the face of its God. Thy will may rest itself in the embraces of its dearest object: for 'tis espoused to the fairest good, and is sure to enjoy it with an indissoluble union. Thy purer and more refined affections may sport themselves in the Sunbeams of heaven. There may thy love warm and melt itself, and there may thy joy dance and exult. All that thou hast to do here below, is this; Thy Virgin-soul that is here assured and contracted, must wait a while for the Nuptials, for a full fruition of its God, for a full consummation of its joy.  
2. This must needs sweeten all present conditions to thee. Eat then thy bread with joy; and drink thy wine with a merry heart; for God accepts thy person, and smells a sweet odour in thy sacrifice. Are there any pearls in the Gospel? thou may'st lay claim to them▪ Is there any balm in Gilead? thou hast a share in it. Are there any Gospel-priviledges? thou knowst they are thine, and are intended for thee. Does God bestow temporals upon thee? thou knowst that he first dips them in love and sweetness. Mount Gerizim is thy portion▪ And how art thou above waves? when as some are shipwrackt, others are toss▪ d and disquieted; thou hast an happy protection in all thy ways.  
1. Thou are secure against the srownes of the world, for heaven smiles upon thee. Thou may'st laugh at the false judging and esteems of men. It may be, the world brands; I, but the Spirit seals. It may be the seed of the Serpent hisses; I, but the holy Ghost breathes. What, though thou be'st forty years in a Wilderness? Nay, what though thou be'st seventy years in Babylon? Won't Canaan, and won't the new Jerusalem make amends for all?  
2. Thou art secure in times of judgement. As Job speaks of the Leviathan, The sword of him that lays at him cannot hold, the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. The arrow cannot make him flee, darts are counted as stubble; he laughs at the shaking of the spear. Who is like him upon the earth, one that is made without fear? When God thunders upon the men of the world, he speaks but in a still voice to thee; he darts lightning flashes in their faces, but he lists up the light of his countenance upon thee. Judgements are intended for the sweeping away of Spider's webs, not for the sweeping away of Gods own jewels. Or if they be involved in a common calamity, yet how is it rolled up in sweetness to them? when as the other can taste nothing but gall and wormwood. Their body may be tossed a little in the world, but their soul lies safe at Anchor.  
3. In the hour of death. Thou knowst that providence then, means only to break the shell, that it may have the kernel. Let them tremble at the knockings and approaches of death that know not what shall become of their precious souls: Men who through the fear of death have been all theirlife-time subject unto bondage? But thou may'st safely trample upon the Adder, and play in the Cockatices' den. The Martyrs (you know) did thus, when they embraced the flames, and complemented with Lions, and devoured torments, and came to them with an appetite. Assurance of the love of God in Christ, this and nothing but this pulls out the sting of death. 'Tis true, that death has lost its sting in respect of all that are in Christ; but yet such as know not that they are in Christ, fear death still as if it had a sting: Only an assured Christian triumphs over it; O death, where is ●hy sting!  
4. Assurance fills the soul with praise and thanksulnesse. The real presence of a mercy is not enough, but there must be the appearance of a mercy, and the sense of it, before it fill thy hair with joy, and thy mouth with praise. A doubting Christian is like a bird entangled and in a snare, the soul has not its comfort, nor God has not his praise: But an assured Christian is like a bird at liberty, that flies aloft, and sings most cheerfully; It begins those hallelujahs in time, that must last for ever; It breaks out into the Psalmists language, Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless h●s holy Name.  

Observ. 4.  The fourth and last Observation which we propounded out of the Text was: That the map to make our Eleation sure, is first to make out Calling ●ute. And this is sufficiently warranted from the just order and method of this▪ Apostolical exhortation, Make your Calling and Election sure; First your Calling, than your Election; and by your Calling, your Election: Methodus Analytica best becoming creatures.  
Many have handled this point at large; I shall do it very briefly, and I shall give you all that I intent to speak to it in these six particulars.  
1. Election in itself is secret and mysterious▪ For (1.) it is from eternity, and so there was none could know it but God alone; none could know Election, but he that made an Election. A Being that is spanned by time, cannot reach to what was done from everlasting: You cannot imagine that Nonentity should listen and hear what▪ was whispered in the Secret Council of Heaven. Thou goest only by the clock of time; but those decrees were written with an eternal Sun▪ beam; thou turnest up thy hourglass of time, but these were measured by an infinite duration. Was it possible that Esau not borne should see God frowning on him; or that Jacob should perceive a smile? Thou art as far from meriting Election as a Non entity and thou art as far from knowing it as a Nonentity. (2) God has a mind to keep it secret, and therefore he has set a seal upon it; not only a seal of certainty, but a seal of secrecy. You know creatures themselves have their closet-determinations; men have their thoughts under lock and key; they have not windows into one another's breasts, much less into the breast of a Deity. Thou caused not fathom sometimes a shallow creature, and dost thou think to reach to the bottom of infinite depths? Has God given thee secret springs of working; has he made the wheels and motions of thy soul secret, and undiscernible, and may he not have the same privilege himself? So then, if God has put a veil upon Election, dost thou think to see into it? When he has shut and clasped the book of Life, dost thou think to open it and read it?  
II. Vocation comments upon Election. God's decrees, that were set from everlasting, do bud and blossom, and bring forth fruit in time. Election buds in a promise, and blossoms in an offer of grace. The Book was written before the foundations of the world were laid; but it was not published till God himself gave it an Imprimatur. The Letter was dated from eternity; the Supersociption was writ in time, in Vocation. Now you know though the Letter be writ first, yet the Superscription is read first by him that receives the Letter. 'Twas decreed from eternity that Decrees should be known in time. And the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the fullness of time, is the time when God's decrees are fulfilled. When the decrees of God are ripe, than he lets the soul taste them; and then they are sweetest. Then thou perceivest that thou art a vessel of honour, when God puts thee upon an honourable employment. That fountain of love which ran under ground from everlasting, bubbles up and flows to thee in time. That 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that was in Election, becomes 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Vocation. Thus thoughts of men, when they would appear, they put on words; they take wings to themselves and fly away.  
III. There is a strict and an inseparable connexion betwixt Election and Vocation. For who is there that can blast the decrees of Heaven, or who can reverse the Seal of the Almighty? Who can break one link of this golden chain? To be sure, 'tis not in the power of created Being's to evacuate and annihilate the counsels of God. A creature, as it had no influence upon Election, so neither has it any power to alter it. A shadow does not alter the Sun, but rather shows you what time of the day it is. And then to be sure God himself will not reverse his own seal. Nulla est litura in d●cr●tis sapientum, say the Stoics; A wise man will scorn to blot out any thing. Nulla sunt litura in libra vit●. God is so full of light, as that there is no shadow of change in him. Therefore, has God picked thee out as a Jewel, and laid thee up in a secret repository, in the Cabinet of his secret council? He will then bring thee out, and show thee in time; he means to polish thee, and put a lustre upon thee; he means to set thee as a Diamond in his Ring, and to put thee upon the band of a Saviour. Did God from all eternity resolve to set thee as a captive soul at liberty? Truly then thou needest not doubt, but that he will in time break open the prison-doors; and beat off thy chains and thy ●etters, and give thee full enlargement. God has been preparing a feast for thee from everlasting, a feast of sweet and fat things, a refined, an Evangelical feast: To be sure then he will invite thee in time; he will stand at thy door and knock; nay, he will compel thee to come into it. God glanced an eye of love upon thee, when thou layest hid in the barren womb of nothing; to be sure then in time he means to woo thee, and to win thee, and to espouse thee to himself in faithfulness and in truth.  
IV. Election and Vocation, though in respect of us they have gradual and climbing accomplishments; yet in respect of God they are equally present. For there is no succession in eternity. There can be no Pri●● & posterius where there was no beginning. 'Tis true that our finite Being's, as they cannot sufficiently grasp an infinite Essence, so neither can they measure an infinite Duration. And therefore, our understandings put many times several periods there, where there ought not to be the least Com●● because we span out things by our own narrow Duration.  
For Duration is nothing else but permano●●ia in esse, a continuation and abiding in Being, the spinning out of Entity: And therefore as the soul cannot see the face of God, so neither can it see the vastness of his Duration, which is adequate and commensurate to the degree of his Entity. So that we being but of yesterday, are not competent judges of Eternity. And as the soul imprisoned in a body, can but darkly conceive of spiritual Being's, and cannot behold the lustre and oriency of an Angel; nay, it cannot behold its own beauty, much less is it able to behold the glory of God himself: So being here conversant with transient things that have their Ortum & Occasum, their Fluxum & Refluxum, their Spring and Autumn, their bounds and their bottom, and dwelling among temporals; 'tis not so well acquainted with the vast Duration of Eternity. And yet it can far better behold the backparts of Eternity, than the face of it; Eternity à parte pòst, then Eternity à parte antè; because the soul itself is measured by that Duration. Whereas only that one Supreme Being, God himself has the completeness and perfection of Eternity. No wonder then that our understandings put several periods there, where there ought not to be the least comma, because we span out things by our own Duration; that which bubbles from Eternity, comes flowing to us in time. But Vocation is as eternal as Election; In respect of God, Jacob was as soon called as he was chosen, and that not only in respect of the secret counsel and decree of God; but whensoever God does actually call Jacob, he calls him ab Aeterno; for Eternity is not at all spent and exhausted by continuance, but is always in vigore viridi. 'Tis a flourishing Duration that never withers, nor decays. Indeed Vocation is nothing else but Election pulling off her velle, and smiling upon the soul, and telling her that God loves her, and manifests and displays his love to her.  
V. It is altogether irregular and anomalous for the soul. 1. To pry into Election. 'Tis dangerous to tread on the highest round first; and here it is impossible. Thus the soul forgets that it is a creature, it forgets its own Duration, and would be measuring itself by Eternity. The windows of the soul must be set open for the entertaining of such light as does more immediately flow in upon it; and the understanding must close and comply with such objects as are best proportioned to it. Now you know that those things which are first intelligible in their own nature, yet are not always first presented to the view and eye of the soul. For whatsoever is first in Being may first be known; Entity being the root and just foundation of intelligibility. And yet sometimes secondary and junior Entity is fain to prepare the way like a John Baptist for one that comes after it, and yet was in worth and being before it. Thus sometimes the causes of things lurk, and lie couched, they hide their heads, only a little flourish out at the Lattesses, peeping out of an effect or two. Thus the Text may be in Hebrew, when the Commentary is in Latin; many may understand the one, that cannot read the other. Election, it is the Original; Vocation, 'tis the interlineary gloss for the help of weak beginners. If God should let thee see into Election before Vocation, it were the only way to frustrate and disappoint his own decree. For if God should show thee thy name in the book of Life, before thy heart were changed and renewed; what would this but make thee sin more securely, and turn his grace into wantonness? Whereas the wisdom of God never determines the end, but it also determines the means; and as the end is always glorious, so also are the means powerful and efficacious. Now thou canst not more clearly demonstrate that thou art in a good tendency and proximity to the end, then by a thankful use and seasonable application of the means. And what do they do but lay a snare for their own souls, that catch and entangle themselves with such a desperate fallacy as this is; If we be elected, we shall be unquestionably saved; and if we be not elected, we shall be unavoidably damned, and therefore we may do what we list. O what a bold and blasphemous inference is this! What is this else, but to distil the rankest poison out of the richest and most sovereign cordial? To kindle Hell out of a spark of Heavenly truth, which if it were blown up gently by the Spirit that breathed it, and kept within its just bounds; 'twould only cheer, quicken and enliven the soul. Because thou dost not as yet know whether thou art a vessel of honour, wilt thou therefore presently dash thyself in pieces? because thou dost not for the present certainly know that thou shalt come safe to the Haven, wilt thou therefore court the waves, rush upon a Rock, and make Shipwreck of faith and a good conscience? wouldst thou do thus in temporals? Why, thou dost not know how long thou shalt live, the number of thy days is certainly fixed, and thy time is an appointed and determined time: wilt thou therefore refuse to lean upon the staff of bread? Wilt thou not repair thine earthly and decaying tabernacle? Wilt thou not maintain the oil in the cruse? that Balsamum radic●le, with such fresh supplies as are afforded to thee? Wilt thou break thy glass in pieces, because thou canst not tell how long it will run?  
Is it not a mercy that God vouchsafes thee the means? Why shouldst thou distrust of obtaining the end, more than any other? There is not a curtain that hides Election more from thee then from any other; 'tis equally hid to all, till it shine forth upon some in the use of means, till the curtain be drawn, and then it will equally shine out upon thee, if thou usest the same means. If all should argue as thou dost, there would none be saved; if all men, because Election is absolute and uncertain, should resolve to live as they list; who would then set his face towards Canaan? where would God have any glory in the world? What would become of his great Name? but he will root out such an unsavoury principle as this is out of the hearts of all that love him; and that truth which is made a fat all stumbling block to some, shall prove a solid foundation of joy and sweetness unto them. The very possibility of Election should banish all such thoughts as these. Who can tell but God may have been gracious unto thee, and have fixed an eye of love upon thee? Oh than breath after him, pant and long for him, desire him to express his mind to thee, to communicate his love to thee.  
Besides, though thou dost not know Election, will mere love do nothing? Though thy God did not intend to glorify thee; yet thou shouldst intend to glorify him; Though he does not choose thee for his servant, yet thou shouldst choose him for thy Lord. There is worth in him, though there be none in thee.  
Resolve that into what condition soever he throw thee, though into hell itself, that there thou wilt love him, and there thou wilt praise him, and long for him; that there thou wilt adore and honour him, and wilt grieve only for this, that thou canst honour him no more; that thou wilt admire his goodness to others, his justice to thee; I, and his goodness to thee too, that lays less upon thee than thou deservest. Such thoughts as these would make hell itself lightsome.  
VI As Election is secret and mysterious, so Vocation may be easily known. That ginger was deservedly laughed at, that was so intensely gazing upon the Stars, so admiring their twinkling beauties, as that unawares he tumbled into the water; whereas before, if he had but been pleased to look so low as the water, he might have seen the stars there represented in that crystal glass. Such as will needs be prying into the stars, that will ascend up into heaven, and gaze upon Election; they do but dazzle their eyes, and sometimes by this are overwhelmed in the depths of Satan: whereas they might easily see the stars in the water; they might see Election in Sanctification, in Regeneration. Now Vocation does plainly and easily appear by that great and eminent alteration which it brings along with it. It is a powerful Call, 'tis an audible and quickening voice; the voice of the first trumpet that awakens men out of the graves, and makes them happy, by having their part in the first Resurrection; great and sudden alterations they are very discernible. Now here's a most notorious, and signal change made; Old things are passed away, and all things are become new: here's a change from death to life, from darkness to light; and what more discernible than this? A living man may know that he is alive, and that without any further proof or demonstration, whatever the Sceptics old or new would persuade us to the contrary; Will you not allow a man to be certain that he lives, till a jury of life and death hath passed upon him?  
Could not the blind man in the Gospel (think you) perceive when his eyes were opened? could he not easily tell that now he could see and discern variety of Objects? or must he only conjecture that he sees, and guess at a Sunbeam? must he still at noonday go groping in uncertainties. And is there not an easy and sure difference between those thick veils and shadows of the night, between those dark and Ethiopic looks, and the virgin blushes of the morning; those beautiful eyelids of the day? The smile and flowering out of light, much more the advancement of light to its Zenith and Noon-day-glory? And why then cannot an Intellectual eye discern as well, that now it sees? that now it looks upon God with an eye of love, with an eye of faith, with an eye of confidence? and that now God looks upon him with an eye of tenderness and compassion, with an eye of grace and favour, with an eye of delight and approbation? Who but an Anaxagoras will go about to persuade a man to disbelieve his eyes? and if a corporal eye deserve such credit, why may not a spiritual eye than expect as much? Say not then in thine heart, Who shall ascend into heaven, to bring down Assurance from above? who shall unclasp the book of life that is sealed, and turn thee to thy name? or who shall bring thee a certificate that it is written there? Behold, it is nigh thee, even in thine heart: The work of grace there, the Law written on the tables of thine heart, by the finger of the Spirit is the exemplification and counterpane of that Decree; the safest way, the best way, the only way to make sure of Election, is first to make sure of thy Vocation; Make your Calling and Election sure.  
FINIS.   

SPIRITUAL OPTICS: OR A GLASS Discovering the weakness and imperfection of a Christians knowledge in this life.  
BY NATHANAEL CULVERWELL, Master of Arts, and lately Fellow of EMMANVEL COLLEGE in CAMRIDGE.  
LONDON, Printed by T. R. and E. M. and are to be sold by John Rothwel at the Sun and Fountain in Paul's Churchyard.  
1652,   

To the READER.  
Reader,  
I Here present thee with a little Mirror, wherein thou mayest easily discern thine own imperfections, unless they stand in thy light; and if thou wilt but use to reflect upon thyself, a●a dwell at home, thou ●ayest easily find that thou hast little reason either to admire thyself or contemn others. If thy knowledge puff thee ap▪ thou hast so much the less. He was counted a wise, man who said that he knew but one thing, and that was, that he knew nothing; though another durst not own so much; and a wiser man than both tells us, that he that is wise in his own eyes, is of all fools the most uncurable; and another, that if any man think that he knows any thing, he knows nothing yet as as he ought to know. So that it seems to be agreed on by those who are best able to judge, that the first priece of wisdom is to be sensible of ignorance. Then I hope this Discourse may prove not unprofitable, truly nor unseasonable neither in this confident age, when every ignorant one is so prone to lean unto his own understanding, that he thinks himself too good to be taught, whereas indeed he hath not yet wit enough to learn. But it is the Devil's subtlety to dazzle them with new light (as Boys do Geese) that they may wink conceitedly while he pulls them naked, and makes them become ridiculous. It is sad to think how he puts out men's eyes, and then makes himself cruel sport with them; and the game of it is, that still they think themselves seers, and know not that they are blind, and naked, and miserable. Now if this Glass prove but instrumental to reflect so much old light upon them, as to discover to them their own blindness, there will be some hope of cure. But Reader, I must entreat thee neither to condemn this piece because it is imperfect, nor yet contemn it for being little. It is imperfect, I confess: but so is all our knowledge here, which is the subject of it; and if we know but in part, no wonder if we prophesy also but in part; besides, if Saint Paul himself could not utter the words which he had heard, then truly we may very well excuse this Author for not expressing that in words, which neither ear hath heard, nor eye seen nor the heart of man conceived. But it may be what is here said▪ may at first seem but little: it may be the sooner read; Do but peruse it, and if it please thee, it is enough; if otherwise, too much. But indeed it was intended only for a taste, and to bear the Mace into the world before that learned and elegant Treatise, which this ingenious Author hath left behind him concerning The Light of Nature; Which now waits only to see what entertainment this will meet withal. Perhaps it may be expected that I should add something in praise of the author; but I am not ignorant that a friends testimony is prone to be suspected of partiality; and although such an one have most reason to know the truth, yet Cassandra-like, he seldom hath the hap to be believed. The best on't is, he needs it not, his works will commend him most effectually; which if I shall endeavour to bring into public view, I hope thou wilt find them such, that I shall not be thought either to have abused thy le●sure, or to have wronged the memory of my deceased friend.  
W. D. Emman. Dec. 24. 1651   
1 COR. 13. 12. 
For now we see through a glass darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known.  
PAUL that was of a piercing eye, and had as clear an insight into the mysteries of Salvation, as any other; whose soul was always mounting towards that third Heaven, whither he had once been rapt, and had there heard words that neither could nor might be uttered (for so much is employed in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) we find him here granting the imperfection of his knowledge, those weak and shadowy apprehensions which he had of the Divine Majesty▪ while he saw through a glass darkly; and encouraging himself with the consideration of the full and clear Vision, which we shall have of him hereafter, when we shall see God face to face in glory. Without any further preamble we'll open the words of the Text, that we may see this Glass clearly, and not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Our Apostle here advances charity to the highest pitch of commendation, as a triumphant grace, a grace that had eternity stamped upon it. It outlives faith, for that gives place to Vision; it outlasts Hope, for that is swallowed up in fruition; Prophecies they shall vanish, and Tongues shall be silenced, and Knowledge shall pass away: for 'tis weak and imperfect here, it is in its minority; yea, in its infancy: When I was a child, I spoke as a child. 'Tis cloudy and obscure here; For now we see through a glass darkly.  
NOW we see, etc. Now that the Gospel beams out upon us with a powerful and glorious ray. It was likely that at the first peeping out of Heavenly light, at the Evangelical daybreak, before the shadows were fully scattered, that then there would be some obscurity; I, but 't has shined out brighter and brighter till perfect day, and yet still we see thus darkly.  
Secondly, (which is the true and genuine meaning) Now whilst we are in this house of our earthly tabernacle, whilst the understanding of a man, which the wise man calls The Candle of the Lord, while 'tis hid in the dark lantern of the body; Till this partition-wall be beaten down, we cannot see God face to face. There's no reaching of perfection here, 'tis treasured up for a better life. He that will shoot high may aim at a Star, but he must not think to hit it. Nihil est ab omni parte beatum. B●atum & perfectum are both one. Alas! Now when the soul does but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, try the wing, and flutter towards heaven, 'tis presently pulled down with an earthy body we carry▪ about with us; 'tis so depressed here, as it can hardly look up to heaven: how then shall it see God face to face?  
Now WE see through a glass, etc. We that have an holy 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that teaches us all things; we that have many secret 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the whisper and breathe of the holy Spirit, that leads us into all truth; we that are acquainted with the mind of God, that have had many a gracious aspect from him, yet WE see but darkly. No wonder that the Sun's too bright for Owls, when Eagles are dazzled with it, and become dim-sighted; 'tis like that such as are aliens from the Commonwealth of Israel, will be wholly ignorant of these Magnalia, when they that are à secretiorsbus, know them but in part: if 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the sons of the morning, the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, children of light; if they see so darkly, then surely a child of darkness will see nothing at all: If Paul now a glorious Apostle see no more, what could he see when he was a furious persecutor, before the scales fell from his eyes?  
Thirdly, We that are no novices in Christianity, but have made much progress in the ways of Religion, yet we see but darkly▪ 'Twas likely at the first opening of the souls eye, at the first cast of it upon heavenly things, that than 'twould not see so clearly. ay, but it hath been long fixed upon God, eyeing of his goodness, gazing upon the riches of his free grace, viewing all his ways, looking at and prying into his several dealings; and yet still it sees thus darkly. And if a tall and eminent Christian see so little, what shall a Babe see, a newborn Babe? If a vigorous and sparkling eye see no clearer▪ what shall a weak distempered eye, a bleer-eyed soul, what shall that see? If an experienced Apostle, a Paul see no more; what shall a new Disciple see, a Nicodemus that comes by night? he must needs see but darkly.  
Now we see through a glass, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Some that would be more critical than they need, would fain show us a difference between 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 indeed with them is a lookingglass: but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is some other glass; either such an one as is for the help of weak and aged eyes, and then 'tis, we see though Spectacles; or else such as presents the object though afar off, and so 'tis, we see through a perspective. The Vulgar Latin, that will have it Per transennam, through a Lattice; as the Spouse in the Canticles is said, to flourish through the Lattices. And all these urge the force of the Preposition, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, we see through a glass, or through a lattice. But they might easily know, if they pleased, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here, is the same with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and though it be true that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is the more usual word for a lookingglass; yet 'tis as true that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifies the same. Hesychius makes them ●●nonyma: and the word is but once more used in the New Testament, Jam. 1. 23. and there can be no doubt but there 'tis taken for a lookingglass▪ Well then, our dark imperfect knowledge of God here is thus set forth by seeing in a glass.  
1. Because 'tis no immediate Vision: the object is not primarily and immediately presented to the eye, but by way of resultancy, and mediante speculo, by the conveyance of the lookingglass, which is a silent interpreter of the object. And such is our knowledge of God here, and such our communion with him; only some broken beams of glory, some glimpses of his presence scattered here and there, in this Ordinance, and in that, Glasses of his own making, means of his proper institution.  
2. 'Tis a weak and imperfect Vision: For, First According to some, not res ipsa but imago rei, only the shape and resemblance of the thing is seen; the effigies of the object drawn with the pencil of a beam is presented to the eye. And Secondly, as the Optics tell us, radius reflexus languet, the beam beggings to be weary, and is ready to faint, it gives a weak and languishing representation; 'tis an imperfect Vision. And O how dark is our knowledge of God here! What poor manifestations have we of his presence, in comparison of that sight which we look for hereafter! when his Essence shall be displayed with a most glorious Emphasis.  
3. Seeing through a Glass is a vanishing and transient Vision, as Saint James expresses it; A man having seen his natural face in a glass, goes his way, and presently forgets what manner of man he was. A dying species could not make any strong impression. One direct view of an object is more full and satisfactory, than the often seeing it through a Glass.  
Our Apostle hath applied it to our purpose; Knowledge passes away, in respect of that weak and imperfect way of knowledge which we have here; for thus Saint Paul glosses upon his own Text; When that which is perfect is come, then that which is imperfect shall be abolished.  
But besides all this, Beza and some others think that our Apostle hath allusion to that way of knowledge which the Philosophers show us, and so often speak of; That the understanding doth 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, intellectus speculatur phantasmata, and thus sees 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. No light springs into the mind but through the window of sense; the sense, that's the first receptacle of the species, which flowing from a material object somewhat thick and muddy, they must be clarified and throughly refined by the Intellectus ag ns, (for that they suppose) poured out from vessel to vessel, and taken off from the Lees before the soul drink them in as her proper nectar. This remote and far-fetched way of knowledge, Saint Paul opposes to the quick and present view which we shall have of things 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when we behold them in speculo divino, we shall see in that Glass clearly. But there is a place in 2▪ Cor. 3. 18. where Saint Paul seemeth to oppose his own expression; for there to see through a glass may seem to import a clear and open Vision: Hear what the words say, We all with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of God, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of our God.  
A learned Critic hath well observed that the Hebrew 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 includes both, for it signifies both vultus and speculum. So that to see 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 may either be to see 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or else, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. I know such as I formerly mentioned would have recourse to their difference of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; but if we look more accurately into the words, I think we shall find that even there to see through a glass, implies a dark and imperfect vision. For the Apostle compares those present advantages which we in the Gospel have over them which were under the Law; they were all under a cloud▪ and Moses had a veil upon his face; but we 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, with open face behold the glory of God; and yet it is but beholding it through a glass; for thus the state of the Church under the Gospel is described, Rev. 4. There's a throne compassed with a sea of glass, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, vers. 6. Under the Law it was mare aereum, but now in the Gospel mare vitreum, clearer representations, as that renowned Interpreter of the Revelation observes. Well then, in reference to them under the Law we behold with open face, but yet in respect to that clear sight which we shall have hereafter, it is but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. and so it follows, we are changed into the same image from glory to glory: which though it may be thus understood, from his glory we become glorious; yet I doubt not but it is meant of the several degrees of glory: and thus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is from grace to glory. For grace is Aurora gloriae, the dawning of the beatifical vision. Grace is glory in the bud, and glory is grace at the full. Surely glory is nothing else but a bright constellation of graces, happiness nothing but the quintessence of holiness. And yet if any shall much contend, that there to see through a glass, expresses a clear and unobscure vision, it is nothing prejudicial to our present purpose: for here Saint Paul doubles his expression, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, we see through a glass darkly in a riddle, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
AEnigma is properly obscura allegoria, an allegory with a mask on; it is a borrowed speech and a cloudy speech. A knotty intricate speech sealed up and locked from vulgar appehensions, that's a riddle: and our knowledge of God here is thus cloudy and enigmatical, and that if you take it in those three several ways which are usually given of it.  
First, by way of removal or negation, when we take away all such things as are inconsistent with a Deity. And thus the Sripture riddles him forth; with him is no beginning of days, nor end of life. He is not a man that he should lie, or the son of man that he should repent. With him is no variableness nor shadow of turning, etc. And in this sense Dionysius tells us that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ and he there admires 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the transcendent beams of Divine darkness; for so that Areopagite is pleased to speak. Now you will easily grant that this is a dark and cloudy knowledge, when we cannot tell you what a thing is, but what it is not: for ex puris negativis nihil concluditur.  
Secondly, when we conceive of him in a superlative way, in a way of eminency and transcendency: and thus the forenamed Author (if he be the Author) speaking of his Being, saith that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Many divine perfections are scattered and broken amongst the creatures, as the same face may be represented in several Glasses; and all the excellencies of the creatures are collected, and meet eminently in God, as several faces may be seen in one Glass. The creatures must be winnowed from all imperfections, and the finest and choicest of them must be taken to give some weak resemblance of a Deity; the ruddiness of the Rose, and the purity of the Lily; nay, the top and excellency of the Creation must be brought to shadow out the Spouses beauty; and yet that this knowledge is weak and imperfect, will easily appear. 1. Because these inferior Being's are so gross and material, as that the purest of them, the very quintessence and flos creaturae is mere dregs, if compared with so pure an Essence; its gold becomes dross, its silver tin. And when heavenly perfections are set out by the creatures excellencies, it is but a stooping low to humane capacity: The soul would be dazzled at so bright a Majesty, unless he were clouded with such expressions. 2. This way of beholding him breeds rather admiration than begets knowledge; for when we hear of so goodly an Essence that hath all excellencies bound up in one vast volume, we wonder what that should be: and admiration is at the best but semen scientiae, or abrupta scientia, as the learned Verulam calls it, a stupefied kind of know'edge. 3. This rather sets the soul a longing, then gives it any true satisfaction. For when we hear there is so choice a thing, we long to know what it is; which was sign we knew it not before, or but very weakly. For true knowledge satiates the soul, there is a complacency and acquiescence in it, especially when it is conversant about so high an object; so that this way is but dark and full of riddles.  
Thirdly, when we consider of God by way of causality, in that vast influence which he hath upon all things, as with him is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (as the supposed Areopagite) Springing beams of goodness, and overflowing effusions of light, as he is causa fontana, a fountain-essence continually bubbling forth, from whence the several drops of inferior beings have their original: and as he is the main spring that sets the wheels of those petty entities on working: for in him we live, move, and have our being. Now this rather shows us that there is a God, than what he is: that there is indeed such a prime being, a self-being, an all-being, a giver of being, à quo omnia, per quem omnia, propter quem omnia, but still we are to seek what this being is; so that these apprehensions of him are very weak and shadowy, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, we now see through a glass darkly.  
But then] Then when a believing soul returns to God that gave it, it sees him face to face, and fixes its eye upon him to all eternity. As soon as ever the soul is unsheathed from the body, it glisters most gloriously; as soon as ever it is unclouded from corruption, it shall beam forth most oriently; as soon as it is let loose from this cage of clay, it sings most melodiously: nothing hinders a Christian from a sight of God face to face, but the interposition of a gross earthy body; it is death's office, to break down this wall of separation, that the soul may be admitted into the presence of God.  
Secondly, Then, at that general day of refreshment, when God shall sit upon his Throne in beauty and excellency, as a centre of light, streaming forth to the glorious circumference of the four and twenty Elders, that sit 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as it is in the 4. of the Revelation.  
Face to face] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. This is opposed to seeing in a glass, 1. As a more immediate vision: 2. A clear and perfect vision: 3. As a permanent and eternal vision: 4. As the learned Piscator, (because those things which we see in a glass, are à tergo) exceptâ fancy & corpore proprio.  
In the words there is a plain allusion to that place in the 12. of Numbers the 8. where God promises to manifest himself to his servant Moses, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the Septuagint render it very agreeable to our purpose, and that which is he●e 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is in other places, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and in Esay 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. and is translated by St. John, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, by our Apostle elsewhere 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and here 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
And yet we must not think that by virtue of this Promise Moses had so full and beatifical a vision of God, as we expect hereafter in glory. No, it is spoken only of Gods communicating himself to him in a clearer way than he would to any of the Prophets: he would speak to them in riddles, to Jeremy in the riddle of an Almond-tree, of a Seething pot, and so to the rest of the Prophets; I but he conversed familiarly with Moses, as a man talks to his friend face to face. And as for Moses his Petition in the 33. of Exod. the 18. I beseech thee show me thy glory, it was only a desire that God would show himself in some corporeal resemblance, so as to assure him of his presence, that that would accompany him. And this is God's answer, I will make all my goodness pass before thee. Besides, there is a plain denial; God tells him he cannot see his face; Moses saw no more of God than we do here, the backparts of his glory; he saw them in a corporeal resemblance, and we in an intellectual vision. You see the allusion this place hath to that in Numbers.  
Now as for the meaning of the words, but then face to face.  
1. It is not meant of seeing Christ in his humane nature face to face, as Job speaks, With these very eyes I shall see my Redeemer: for thus the wicked also shall see him with terror and amazement, when the mountains shall be esteemed an easler burden, if they could but cover them from the face of an angry Saviour that will frown them into hell.  
2. As for the error of the Anthropomorphites, it is so gross, as it neither deserves to be repeated, nor needs to be confuted.  
3. I take it to be meant of an Intellectual beholding the very essence of God, according to that, 1 John 3. 2. When he shall appear, we shall be like unto him, and see him as he is, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ and yet it can by no means be a comprehensive vision: for that's a mere repugnancy, that a finite ereature should grasp an infinite essence. Or by the face of God may be meant his glory and perfections; for the face is the throne of beauty.  
In the following words St. Paul gives a plainer expression of that which before, he had spoke more darkly.  
Now I see through a glisse darkly, now I know in part; but then face to face, but then I shall know even as also I am known. As when two see one another face to face, the one knows the other by sight, as he is known by him.  
Now I know in part] St. Paul on set purpose changes the person, that he may acknowledge his own impersection. He had included himself before, Now WE see through a glass darkly▪ I, but he will do it more apparently, now I know in part; and when so great an Apostle inculcates his own defects, me thinks none should boast of their selfsufficiency.  
2. Now I KNOW in part] Here is a reason of our imperfection here: If the light that's in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness? Knowledge is a leading principle, and all graces follow it in a just measure and proportion: if we knew God more, we should obey him more; if we knew more of his goodness, we should love him more; if we knew more of his Majesty, we should fear him more; if more of his faithfulness, we should trust him more; nay if we knew him perfectly, all these would be perfect: when knowledge is complete, obedience will be exact.  
3. Now I know IN PART: according to the Syriack, parum de multo. 1. Little of that I should know. 2. Little of that I might know. 3. Little of that others know. 4. Little of that I desire to know. 5. Little of that I shall know hereafter in glory.  
4. Now I KNOW in part. 1. Religion is no fancy, opinion; or conjectural thing: no, we have a certain knowledge of God and his ways here; we see through a glass, though it be but darkly: there is truth in a riddle, though it be obscure. 2. A Christian begins his acquaintance with God here: he that knows him not in part here, shall never see him face to face in glory. We have here the first glimpses of heaven, a prospect of Canaan, the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of happiness, the initials of Glory.  
But then I shall know, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 differ. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. It is bringing me better acquainted with a thing that I knew before, a more exact viewing of an object that I saw before afar off. That little portion of knowledge which we had here shall be much improved, our eye shall be raised to see the same things more strongly and clearly. Our knowledge here was but scintilla futurae lucis. When the soul shall say as the Queen of Sheba did to Solomon in 1 Kings 10. It was a true report that I heard in mine own land of thine acts and of thy wisdom; howbeit I scarce believed the words until I came, and mine eyes had seen it, and behold the half was not toll me. Happy are thy men, O happy are these thy servants that stand continually before thee.  
Even as also I am known. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The words if they be put to it, will endure a double Hebraisme. I shall know as I am known.  
1. I shall know as I am approved, sicut & agnitus sum; nay Cbrysostome makes 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Causal; I shall know because I am approved.  
2. I shall know as I am made to know. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, saith Beza; and (which is a wonder) Heinsus agrees with him. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 saith he; and indeed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is the same with the Hebrew 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and he tells us if we would render the words Hellenistically, they would run thus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I shall so know as God is pleased to be known by me, to manifest himself unto me. And yet Piscator rejects both these senses; the words themselves being sufficiently tempered with the particle 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which is not anote of equality, but of similitude, as in many other places.  
And thus much may serve for explication of the text, for clearing the glass, for opening the Aenigma. If you now look into the words, you'll find them full of Spiritual Optics. Here is Visio reflexa; for now we see through a glass darkly: and here is Visio recta; but then face to face. We will begin with the Catoptrica: Now we see through a glass darkly; and here I shall present many glasses to your view.  
First, In the glass of the Creature, in speculo mundi. This is a common and obvious glass presented to every one's view, and there are some glimmerings of common light, a lumen naturae diffused among all, by which they may see into it.  
Our Apostle shows us this glass in Rom. 1. 20. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, The invisible things of God from the Creation of the world are clearly seen. The words in the fountain run thus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and deserve to be cleared from an unjust interpretation: for some would have 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to be à creaturamundi: others à creatione mundi, ex creatione mundi: so Beza. But all these are far enough from the meaning of the place: for their sense is, That the invisible things of God are seen by the creatures, or by the creation. It is true, our Apostle saith so much in this verse, but not in these very words; for than it should be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when as I doubt not but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is the same 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, à mundo condito. Piscator and Drusius both meet in this, and the Syriack translation is clear for it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 à jactis mundi fundamentis. And then the words speak thus much: From the first infancy of the world, ever since it was created, the eternal power and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which are the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 mentioned in the former verse, and the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the beginning of this verse, the eternal power and Godhead have manifested themselves, and the prime cause hath been very apparent in those effects of his, which are here styled 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and could not possibly be produced by any inferior Being. And as for that which we render is clearly seen, in the Original it is no more than 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. I know not how it comes to denote so clear a vision; sure it may well consist with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and yet withal they are so clearly seen 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which though some would have the same with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, yet here I shall easily yield to the learned Interpreter, and grant that it includes somewhat more.  
This vast volume of the creatures set out by God himself without any errata in it, was printed in so fair a character, as he that ran might read it; and the least letter in it made show of a most Divine impression. But alas! sin, besides weakening of the souls eye, hath soiled and defaced the book; and hence we come to see in it so darkly. And yet still the letters are visible, and carry with them the print of a Deity. The world is, as one calls it, Aenigma Dei. And it is full of looking-glasses: for God hath communicated several resemblances of himself to the creature, as the face sheds that image or species upon the glass whereby itself is represented. I need not speak of the blessed Angels, those pure and crystal mirrors, what glorious representations they give of their Creator: Look but into yourselves, and you will find immortal souls showing forth that image according to which they were made; or if you will look up to that vast and polished lookingglass, you will see The heavens declaring the glory of God, and the firmament showing his handy work. Or cast but an eye upon the poorest and most abject Being, and even there you will find some faint resemblances of a Deity. For as in the most glorious creature, as a creature there is aliquid nihili; so in the most contemptible creature, as a creature, there is aliquid Dei. I but the Atheist ●e shuts his eyes, & quid caeco cum speculo? what should a blind man do with a lookingglass? And yet sometimes there are lightning flashes of terror darted into him, and he begins with the Devils to believe and tremble. The Papists, as if there were not glasses enough of Gods making, they must have images of their own to put them in mind of God; their painted glasses: but surely they see through these very darkly. The Heathens they shall be judged for not ordering their lives and dressing themselves according to this glass; for resisting those relics of primitive light that shined out so strongly upon them. Well, here are glasses, but we see in them very darkly, and that by reason of a double defect.  
1. Ex parte speculi.  
'Tis true, some of God's attributes here clearly show themselves; his power and Sovereignty; I, and his wisdom, and goodness too; but those sweetest manifestations of his love, the treasures of free grace and infinite mercy, the whole plot of the Gospel, not the least shadow of these to be found. Now for this very cause, the Gentiles in Eph. 2. 12. are called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, because they were without the knowledge of God in Christ. You know they had a goodly company of gods, an whole troop of Deities: I, but they were without God in Christ, and hence they are styled 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, without God in the world.  
2. Ex parte ●culi.  
1. Adam in innocency had a glorious soul full of light, bright and sparkling eyes, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. He could read the smallest print, the least jot and tittle in the book of Nature. See how quickly he tumbles o'er the vast volume, and in a name gives a brief gloss upon every creature, a concise epitome of their natural histories. He had a fair portion of knowledge, if he could have been contented with it. ay, but he would fain have more, he must needs be tasting of the tree of Knowledge; and hence springs our ignorance; we have ever since had an unhappy 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the soul hath been darkened and dim-sighted. Perhaps it can see some goodly capital letters, some fair flourished character; I, but there are multitudes of beings in a smaller print, that it takes no notice of.  
2. The soul might see more, if it would employ itself more, and look oftener into this glass of the creatures. Meditation would raise the creature higher, and distil sweetness out of every object. 'Tis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the elegant Moralist. The soul is busy with every thing it sees, as busy as a Bee; it goes from flower to flower, and extracts most precious sweetness.  
3. Some eyes have been dazzled too much with the glitterings of the creatures, so as to take the servant for the Master; and have been so much in admiring the glass, as they forgot the glorious beauty that it represented. What worship and adoration hath the Sun had? even almost as much as the great Creator of heaven and earth himself; strange that they should see so darkly, as not to discern the face from the veil that covers it. For the Sun is at best but umbra Dei, and nubecula cito transitura; a mere spot, a cloud, if compared with so bright an Essence; and as he faith notably, The Sun's worshippers must needs be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Atheists in the nighttime. You have seen the glass of the Creatures, and how in it we see very darkly.  
Secondly, in learning's glass, in speculo scientiarum. Learning brightens the intellectual eye, and clarifies the soul; the Hebrews wise men are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 aperti, men with eyes open; and it sets a man on higher ground, and gives him a fairer prospect of Being's, and many advantages over others. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they have eyes and see not; I, but these see, and yet very darkly. What need I tell you how invincible doubts blemish their brightest notions? How the Naturalists head is nonplussed with an occult quality, and he knows not how to take it off: How the choicest Moralists are posed with the riddle of summum bonum, and cannot tell how to extricate themselves. Look up higher to Metaphysics, which some stile fimbria Theologiae; I, but you may touch the hem of its garment long enough before you find any virtue coming from it. Converse but with the Schoolmens Works, and there you shall meet with aenigmata infolio, voluminous riddles. 'Tis their grand employment to tie a knot, and then see if they can undo it; to frame an enemy▪ and then triumph over him; to make an objection, and then answer it if they can: there are speculations enough, but if you see through them, it will be very darkly.  
But if you could see very clearly in all these, yet how weak and insufficient are they to acquaint you with the Arcana of Religion, and the great mysteries of Godliness?  
1. Some such as have been most eminent in them, and as he speaks, have had wits of elevation situated as upon a cliff, but how little have they seen of heaven and heavenly things! Aristotle with the rest of the Heathen. what uncertain and fluctuating notions had they of a Deity? We are beholden to their dying speeches for most of their Divinity.  
2. Many under the light of the Gospel, and furnished with helps of humane learning; how strangely unacquainted are they with the knowledge of Christ crucified! A plain experienced Christian (notwithstanding all their Auxiliary forces) only by the help of a Bible, will put an whole army of them to flight: Surgunt indocti & rapiunt coelum, when they in the mean time do but, as he speaks, ornare Diabolum; they become learned spoils, Sapienter descendunt in infernum, they go cunningly to hell. And yet me thinks none should be so silly and malicious as to put the fault in learning, whereas there is no greater vicinity then between truth and goodness; and heaven is full of knowledge, as it is of holiness; and it is brimful of both.  
3. Sciences themselves are weak and imperfect things, and therefore 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as our Apostle tells us, Knowledge shall be abolished, and Tongues which are vehicula scientiarum, they shall pass away. So then in this Glass we see but darkly.  
Thirdly, in the Glass of the Scriptures, in speculo verbi. This is a pure and spotless Glass, representing the will of God unto us, an eternal Glass that shall never be broken, more durable than heaven itself: David was looking in this Glass day and night.  
There are many false flattering glasses in the world; I, but here the soul may see its face in a most exact resemblance: it will show the least spot & deformity; the sinfulness of an idle word, of a vain thought, of a first motion though without consent, the least tendencies to sin, the first bubblings up of corruption. It deals so plainly as many are offended with it, & swell the more against it; & thus sin takes occasion by the commandment, as Rom. 7. Fond Lais breaks her looking glass, because it shows the wrinkles in her face: and gives the reason, Me cernere talem qualis sum no●o, qualis eram nequ●o. Well, the Law that's a glass to show us our spots, but it cannot wipe them off; I, but the Gospel is a pure well of salvation, there one may see them and wash them too.  
In that Evangelical mirror you may see the face of a Saviour, coming in an amiable way with smiles of love, with offers of grace and saving mercy. Nay, the Gospel is called the face of Jesus Christ, 2 Cor. 4. 6. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. As suppose a glass when a man had once looked into it, should keep a permanent & unvanishing species of his face, though he himself afterwards were absent; we might well say, There was the face of such a man; the Gospel is such a Glass, Christ hath looked into it, and shed his image upon it, and ever since it hath given most glorious representations of him: it is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that I may borrow that expression in the Hebrews: so that when we shall come to see him 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in heaven, we shall be able to say, Surely this is the very Saviour that was described to me in the Gospel;— sic ille manus, sic or a forebat. And till we come to heaven itself, we cannot meet with more full manifestations of God and Christ, and all the mysteries of salvation, then in the word of God; and yet here we see but darkly.  
For if we consider them under the Old Testament, how long was there comfort locked up in that Aenigma, that primitive promise, which was Aurora Evangelii, the first dawning of the Gospel; The seed of the woman shall break the serpent's head? and when truth began to show itself in some fuller discoveries, yet still it was mixed with much obscurity.  
They had a twofold glass. 1. Speculum ceremoniarum. 2. Speculum prophetiarum.  
1. In the glass of the Ceremonies they saw very darkly. We could not look for much light where there were so many shadows; where there were so many veils, they could not see face to face. That the Jews worshipped a cloud for their God, was a mere calumny; but that they worshipped their God in a cloud we will easily grant, for all our fathers were under the cloud, 1 Cor. 10. 1. The Ceremonial law was nothing else but an heap and miscellany of riddles: who amongst them could tell the meaning of them? nay it is well if we that have the type and antitype meeting together, can give a just explanation of some of them. Well, this glass is now broken: for Ceremonies like false looking-glasses represent the object with too much shadow; and yet still the scarlet whore will be dressing her self by them, because like flattering glasses they make her seem fairer and more beautiful. Majorésque cadunt altis de montibus umbrae.  
2. In speculo prophetiarum. Prophetia est speculum in quo videntur sutura. Here they might see the presence of a deferred deliverance, they might see the face of a promised Messias. Buxtorf, in his Synagoga Judaica, tells us that he is persuaded this is one main reason why the Jews are so ignorant of the Messias, because they are so little versed in the Prophets; they spend their whole time upon the Law, but will not cast an eye upon them; He speaks of the modern Jews. God in much mercy hath given them glasses, and they will not vouchsafe to look in them: they were always an obdurate and stiffnecked people, rebelling against the Prophets, & they go on to fill up the sins of their fathers. Well, but yet the Seers themselves saw but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and they saw in them very darkly.  
For 1. Prophecies (as the learned Verulam) have gradus & scalas complementi, climbing accomplishments, springing and germinant accomplishments. A Prophecy in the bud is not so easily seen as when it shoots out further, and spreads itself in larger growth: such passages in Esay as seem to us clear as the day, were to them dark and Enigmatical: and we see how obscure St. John's prophecy seems to us. And the devil, who was always God's Ape, he over-imitated here; for his oracles were wrapped up in so many clouds, and withal so full of fallacies, as none ever could tell their meaning till event had given the interpretation. The Prince of darkness would make all his sayings wear his livery: Divine prophecies are as clear as crystal, if compared with his cloudy oracles.  
2. Prophecies at best are but weak and imperfect things, and therefore they also shall be abolished, no need of them in heaven: they were very beneficial to the Church militant, to acquaint her with approaching judgements, and prepare her for intended mercies; but when happiness is present and complete, no need of them then in the Church triumphant.  
Thus you have seen how they under the Law saw but darkly: & if God's peculiar people had so little knowledge of him, in what gross and palpable ignorance did they live that had none of this his light shining upon them; for in Judah was God known, and his Name was famous in Israel. He hath not dealt so with every nation, neither had the Heathen knowledge of his Law.  
And now if we look upon ourselves that live under the light of the Gospel, even we in this Sunshine see but darkly.  
1. There are many Evangelical riddles, a God incarnate, a crucified Saviour; which are such, 1. as the Angels themselves see but darkly, and therefore they are still prying to see more. 2. Reason that great patron of unbelief wrangles against them; and yet reason itself will dictate thus much, That the mysteries of Religion should be above the reach of reason. 3. The greatest part of the world reject them: the Greeks esteem them foolishness: they think there is not so much in them as in a riddle; in that there is some hidden sense, but these are plain foolishness in their esteem; and Evangelium to the Jews is no more than 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for so they blasphemously call it, volumen iniquitatis. They stumble at a crucified Saviour, and yet themselves were the crucifiers of him. The veil of the temple rend at his death; I, but the veil is still upon their hearts, and yet that e'er long shall be rend too: and they shall see him whom they have pierced, and shall mourn, and be in much bitterness; and confess 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, We crucified our Love, we crucified our Saviour.  
2. There are many Practical truths which are mere riddles to carnal spirits; as to forsake all for a persecuted Christ, to cut off right hands, pluck out right eyes, pray for enemies, not to do evil that good may come thereof; these principles they can hardly digest; and there are many Christian privileges which they know not what to make of, assurance of God's favour, communion with him, hidden Manna, joy in the holy Ghost glorious & unspeable. These & such like puzzle their apprehensions; for they never entered into the heart of a natural man to conceive, it is too narrow for them to enter.  
3. There are many passages which to Christians themselves are dark and enigmatical, such as we cannot easily understand. The book of the Revelation is all veiled with obscurity, the first thing we meet with almost are seven Seals: it is full of hidden secrets, and who is there that can unseal the book? Our adversaries the Papists catch at this, and are ready with a double inference: The Scriptures are enigmatical; therefore clear them with Traditions, therefore keep them from the people.  
But 1. When we speak of the Scriptures darkness, it is but comparatively in respect of those bright manifestations we shall have of God hereafter. A pearl may be clear and orient, and yet dark in respect of a star: a star may be bright, and yet obscure if compared with the Sun.  
2. All truths belonging to the Essence of a Christian, are plain and perspicuous: and there is an assisting Spirit, which though they perhaps may scoff at, and some others may unjustly pretend to, yet without doubt it shall lead God's people into all truth.  
3. Is their Cabala so pure? are their Traditions so clear and crystalline, as that we shall see in them better than in the word? If you cannot see in a pellucid stream, do you think to see in a muddy standing pool?  
But Secondly, The Scriptures are enigmatical, therefore keep them from the people. Nay rather, therefore explain them to them: therefore set up a faithful Ministry, whose lips may preserve knowledge, and acquaint them with the mysteries of salvation, and open to them these hidden oracles. And let the people themselves search the Scriptures, dig for knowledge as for silver, and for wisdom as hid treasure. Again, they had better see in a glass, though but darkly, than not to see at all; truth in a cloud, in a riddle is more amiable than a black and palpable ignorance.  
Thirdly, They keep the Scriptures from them, not because they see in them so darkly, but lest they should see in them too clearly; And above all they lock up the Revelation, not as it is obscure, but because it threatens the seven hills so much. And thus we have looked upon the third particular, the Glass of the Scriptures.  
Fourthly, In speculo providentia. Here Gods glorious attributes shine forth, his wisdom, justice, goodness, and the rest of that glorious constellation. And Providence sets before us examples, they are glasses in which we may see either the beauty of holiness, or else sins deformity. And it is no small felicity of this latter age, that we have the use of these glasses, the benefit of so many former examples; and yet we see in them but darkly, they are a cloud of witnesses, as it is Heb. 12. 1. though in another sense. Providence is very mysterious and there is no readier way to Atheism then to question it when we cannot give a sufficient account of it. The Indians have a custom, once a year to cast a golden bushel into the Sea: and thus they think they set a measure and bound to its proud waves, so as it shall not invade their land. Their custom is ridiculous enough, and yet they are far more vain that go about Doum suo modulo metiri, to circumscribe an Immense being with the narrow compass of their reason. Audacious men, that go about to set Providence a platform, which if it shall transgress, it presently passes the bounds of justice.  
Saint Paul that could have dived as deep as another, and brought up many precious pearly observations with him, yet dares not venture in, but standing aloof off upon the shore, admires the vast & boundless Ocean, and as one amazed, and almost swallowed up with the very consideration of it, he cries out, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom & knowledge of God How unsearchable are his judgements, and his ways past finding out! 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, his ways are in the deep; there is no 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of them, not the least print or vestigium, no tracing of a Deity. That God from all eternity should smile on Jacob, and frown on Esau, and that before they had done either good or evil, that the one should become 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 vas desiderii 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the other 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that God should break open the heart of a rebellious sinner by his efficacious grace, and deny sufficient aid to one that hath improved his present strength far better; that he should shine out only upon some few spots of ground with the light of the Gospel, and shut up the rest in palpable darkness; that he should suffer his dearest children to be wronged and insulted o'er, when wickedness in the mean while triumphs securely: these and many such like are aenigmata providentiae; we see in this glass darkly.  
Fifthly, In speculo fidei. Here we see 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for faith is a sure perspective-glasse, by which Abraham's aged eye saw Christ's day though afar off; and the rest of the Saints 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they saw them at a distance, and yet embraced them: a glass by which Moses saw him that was invisible. It is speculum coloratum, and does imbuere objectum colere suo: it can see a mercy in a judgement, and deliverance in a captivity, help in an exigency: and promises they are faiths glasses, and they speak as the lookingglass in the Greek Epigram, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, if you look on me I look upon you; if you apply me, I belong unto you.  
And yet we see here but darkly: for faith itself (not to speak of those many doubtings and waver, those rollings and inquietations of Spirit that accompany it: for many cannot reach to assurance, few attain to a plerophory,) is opposed to vision, 2 Cor. 5. 7. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: we walk by faith, and not by sight, & non per aspectum. Faith as it lives in the mount, (for in the mount will the Lord be seen) so it dies in the mount too like Moses, it never enters into the land of promise; for it had its Canaan here, A land flowing with milk and honey.  
Sixthly, In speculo Sacramentorum. Such great and transcendent mysteries as the apprehensions of Angels cannot reach unto, are here presented to the senses.  
Baptism, that's a lookingglass where the first beam of God's favourable countenance shows itself, the first expression of his love to a sinful creature. The laver under the Law was made of looking-glasses; and the laver of regeneration under the Gospel is its self a lookingglass, where you may see a God in Covenant with you, and yet he does not show himself with a spreading and immediate ray, but only in a sacramental reflex: and Baptism, though it be styled 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, yet we see in it but darkly, in a riddle, much like that of coelum in tribus ulnis. You may see heaven in this well of salvation. As it was used by way of immersion, there was a riddle of the Resurrection; as by way of sprinkling, there's a riddle of sanctification. You would say, It were no wonder if I should tell you the Infant sees in it but darkly; I, but who is there of riper years that looks on this glass, or makes any use of it? Who is there almost that spends a thought upon his Baptism?  
And as for the Sacrament of the Lords Supper; why, here's a glass that Christ left with his dear Spouse when he went away from her, in which she may still see his face and be mindful of him. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Do this in remembrance of me, and do it to put me in remembrance of you: for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 includes both. There is mutual aspect, and reciprocal glances between Christ and a believing soul in the Sacrament. Christ looks upon the soul with a gracious eye, and the soul looks upon him with an eye of faith. And here are aenigmata convivalia, like that of Samsons, Out of the strong comes sweetness.  
And thus we have shown you the several glasses through which we see but darkly. There remains the visio recta, a sight of God face to face, to know as we are known. But this hereafter.  
READER, 
 What this to know as we are known should be 
 The Author could not tell, but's gone to see.  
FINIS.   

THE Worth Of Souls.  MATTH. 16. 26. 
For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?  
OUr Saviour in the foregoing words had told his followers; that if they meant to be his Disciples, they must take up their cross & so must follow him. They must be willing to part with all things here below, if he should call for them; they must be content to trample upon all relations, for the love of a Saviour, if they stand in competition with Christ; they must be ready to lay all creatures and creature-comforts at his feet. Now because this might seem somewhat an hard task, and not so easy and Evangelical a yoke as he had promised them: In these words he begins to sweeten his commands, and to show the reasonableness and equity of this, that he requires of them. You may well part with other things, for this will be a means to save your soul.  
Now says he, if you could grasp the whole world, and if you had it all in possession, and should lay it down all only for the winning of a soul, you would have no great cause to complain. Whereas if you could embrace the present world, and could gain it all; nay, if there were more worlds for you to enjoy, and if you could have them all only for the loss of a soul; you would have no great purchase of it. What is a man profited? There's a plain 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in the words more is meant, then is spoken: You would be so far from having any profit, as that you would have the greatest loss that is imaginable, the greatest damage and detriment that such a creature is capable of. You would have changed Gold for Dross, and Pearls for pebbles, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Now our Saviour in these words, does as it were, take a pair of balances in his hand, the balance of the Sanctuary; and he puts the whole world in one scale, and the soul of man in the other. This little sparkle of Divinity in one scale, and the great Globe of the world in the other. And the soul of man, this spiritual being: this heavenly sparkle; it does mightily outweigh the great Globe of the world, the vast bulk of water, the huge fabric of the Creation. The world 'tis weighed in the balance, and 'tis found too light.  
In the words you have these two things very considerable.  
1. That absolute worth and preciousness that is in the souls of men, which is strongly employed and involved in the words. D. The souls of men are exceeding precious.  
2. A comparative preciousness, which is most directly and expressly laid down in this, in respect of the whole world besides D. One soul 'tis more worth than a world.  
For the first. The souls of men are very precious.  
The preciousness of the souls of men will easily appear from these four several heads of Arguments.  
For though all men, or most men that know what a soul is, will easily grant that their souls are precious enough; yet they don't attend to those several respects in which they are thus precious; much less do they take notice of those several results and consequences that flow from it.  
Now this absolute preciousness and worth of a soul, does thus show itself.  
(1.) From the several Excellencies of the soul itself.  
There is a fourfold excellency in the souls of men, which speaks them choice and precious.  
1. The excellency of their Original; they are of a noble descent; they came from the Father of spirits, from the Father of lights. God lights up souls in the world; they bubble forth from that fountain of spirits, that spiritual Essence. They are the breast of a Deity; God breathed into a man a living soul. They are a beam of the glorious Sun; God beamed into man a glittering soul. The body indeed 'twas raised out of the dust; we dwell in houses of clay, whose foundations are in the dust. But the soul 'twas of an higher and Nobler Original. Yet there is a great deal of cost bestowed upon the body; much Embroidery and Needlework in that. I am admirably made, I am curiously wrought, I am wrought with a Needle, says the Psalmist▪ Acupictus sum; he speaks it in respect of the choice and elegant composure of man's body, much needlework in that; and then that's but the sheath of the soul, the casket for the Jewel to lie in. The soul 'tis like the Queen's daughter in the 45. Plasme, Her clothing is of needlework, and she is all glorious within. Now all the workmanship that is bestowed upon the body, is only that it may be serviceable to the soul, that the soul may Benè habitare, that it may be a fit Tabernacle for the soul to dwell in; that the soul may say, 'Tis good for me to be here.  
The body 'twas raised out of the dust, but the soul sprang from heaven; 'twas 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a bud of Eternity.  
And truly that the souls of men should now be extraduce; it does somewhat degrade them from that height of excellency that belongs to them. I know that question's full of briers and thorns; but yet we may very well say thus much, that some Scripture-passages favour and countenance this most, that God still breathes into men living souls, that they flow immediately from him in a way of Creation; and that the soul and body do still differ in their Original. That's the first, the excellency of the souls Original.  
2. The excellency of its Operations.  
Do but look upon the several workings of the soul. Consider the several layings out of the soul, and you'll see they have worth in them. Do but view the wheels and motions of the soul, the several faculties and employments of them, and you'll see they are all choice and precious.  
What should I tell you of the Understanding crowned with Beams, compassed and surrounded with Light; of the Will sitting like a Queen upon her Throne, and swaying the Sceptre of Liberty in her hand, with all the affections waiting and attending upon her.  
There's a fivefold excellency in the workings of the souls of men.  
1. The workings of the soul are quick and nimble. Material Being's move heavily. Matter clogs them, and dulls their motion. They go like the Chariots of Pharaoh in the Red-sea; but spiritual Being's, they move freely and presently, like the Chariots of Amminadab, they run with a cheerful spontaneity. What quicker than a Thought? what nimbler than the twinkling of an intellectual Eye? 'Tis true, there is a weakness and irregularity in the souls motions, when its best workings are too flitting and desultory, too gliding and transient: but take the soul as 'tis regular and orderly in its motions, and then the freeness and presentness of its working; 'tis the high privilege of a spiritual Being: For God, that is a pure Spirit, is Omni-present in his motions. And the Angels, that are ministering Spirits, make haste of those glorious errands they are sent about: The wings of the Cherubims fly very swiftly. And the souls of men, that are next in motion, as they are next in Being; they do the will of God on earth as 'tis done in heaven, with such freeness and alacrity.  
2. They are vigorous and indefatigable. The wings of the Cherubims are not weary with flying, nor are the wheels of the soul weary with going, the sparklings of the soul never vanish; but every motion has immortality stamped upon it. Spiritual Being's in all their motions are never weary, nor out of breath. But material Being's, as they are dull and sluggish in their motion; so they are faint and languishing The body, that's soon tired. And yet (which is worth the observing) only animate Being's are capable of weariness: The Sun is not weary with shining, but is always ready like a Giant to runs race; nor the fountain is not weary with flowing▪ but the bird is presently weary with flying. Only animate Being's are weary, not by virtue of the soul, but because the body can't keep peace with the soul. Thus many times the string breaks, when the Lutanist is not weary. The Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. The soul would fain be working, when the body is not serviceable. That which wearies the soul most, is to be quenched in its motions, to be dulled by an earthy body, by the interposition of that to be clouded, to have its wings clipped, so that 'twas said of that noble Platonist Plotinus, that he so lived 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he was loath to be in the body, as others were loath to be in prison, as if he had cried out with the Apostle, O who shall deliver me from this body of death! And therefore the souls of just men made perfect, that are set at full liberty, they are never weary in their workings, never weary of praising God, never weary of singing Hallelujahs to him.  
3. Vast and comprehensive. All beings they are within the souls Horizon. What can't it grasp in its thought? what can't it take in its eye? It can take in the several drops of Being, and it can take in much of the Ocean of Being. I deny not but some men have such narrow and contracted souls, as they can commerce with nothing but outward and drossy objects; they can scarce have a wish, thought, mind only earthly things; their Corn, and their Wine, and their Oil. But this only shows their souls degenerated from their native perfection, from their primitive glory. For the soul of itself is more large and spacious, and scorns to be bounded with material objects; itself is a spirit, and so it delights more in spirituals. Nay, it won't be bounded with real objects; it will set up Being's of its own, Entia Rationis; Reason's creatures; such as the hand of Omnipotency never gave a real Being to.  
And then the desires of the soul how vast are these, and comprehensive? the soul can quickly open its mouth so wide, as that the whole world can't fill it.  
4. Self-reflexive and independent upon the body. And these indeed are the choicest and most precious workings of all, the very flower and quintessence of an immortal soul▪ When the soul shall sit judge upon its own actions; when it shall become Speculum suiipsi●s, view its own force, bid the body farewell, and even here become an Anima separata, withdraw and retire itself to its Closet▪ operations, to its most reserved and Cabinet-counsels. I could at large show the excellency of these workings in several respects, but that I must hasten▪  
5. The workings of the soul are secret and undiscernible. The creatures eye cannot pierce them. Who knows the things of a man, but the spirit of man that is in him? The Devil can't tell the thoughts of men; at most he has but a guess and shrewd conjecture, unless they be such as are of his own casting in; he has reason to know these, for they are his own.  
If men had ●enestrata pectora, there were scarce any living in the world. What mutual rage, and envy, and malice, and heart-burnings would they then behold? Yet lest men should abuse this privilege, and from hence take liberty to sin, God often puts them in mind of this, that he searches and sees the heart; 'tis his great prerogative, and he is greater than the heart, than the soul, he knows all things.  
This is the second particular, the excellency of the souls Operations.  
3. The excellency of its Capacity. Do but consider with yourselves, what a reasonable soul is capable of. 'Tis capable of the image of God. The soul, it has his superscription; In the image of God made he him. Now there's little or nothing of God's Image to be seen in the body; for God is a Spirit, and so stamps his Image upon the spirits of men. And here indeed are some shadowings out of himself, some faint and languishing representations of a Deity. The soul 'tis made in the Image of God, and 'tis capable of such stamps and impressions as God is pleased to put upon it. 'Tis endowed with reason, the apple of the souls eye. 'Tis capable of knowledge, of learning, of all the advancements and ennoblements of reason; but what should I speak of these, this will seem to some in the world no great matter; as good be without them, or it may be better in their fond esteem; well then, 'tis capable of grace, of glory; sure they won't slight these too. 'Tis fit to be a companion of Angels, to bear them company to all eternity. Nay, 'tis capable of communion with God himself; they are the friends of God. The souls of men must make up a Church for him. They are fit to be the Spouse of Christ. 'Tis the Apostles phrase, That I might present you Virgin-souls unto Christ. They are capable of such things, as neither eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor e'er entered into the heart of man to conceive; the soul itself cannot conceive, what great things a soul is capable of. Though the workings of the soul were more vast and comprehensive than they are, yet they can't reach them.  
4. The excellency of its Duration. Do but think upon this a while; how that it shall run a line parallel to all eternity. The body indeed, 'tis soon resolved and crumbled into its first principles. Dust thou art, and to dust thou must return. But the soul returns to God that gave it. As it did not depend upon the body in some of its workings, so neither does it depend upon it in its Being. 'Tis a very remarkable speech that of St John to Gaius; I wish (says he) that thy body prosper, even as thy soul prospers. For most men in the world we might very well invert the wish; we wish their souls prospered, even as their bodies prosper. But Saint John speaks it, of a lively and vigorous Christian, strong in the faith. I wish thy body prosper, even as thy soul prospers. For many times you know, in an aged and decayed body, you have a lively vigorous soul; Old men are most famous for wisdom, Nestor is for council: In a languishing and consumed body, you have many times a flourishing and well-complexioned soul. Men of the liveliest souls, are not always of the strongest and goodliest bodies, none of the longest lives. Sometimes the soul is so acute as that it cuts the sheath of the body asunder. Sometimes the Lutanist screws up the strings so high, as that they crack immediately. Many times the soul is in the full, when the body's in the wane.  
That which we usually call a lightning before death, some think 'tis but the souls finding of its former liberty, that's now to be loosened from the body, to be enlarged and set out of prison; and that makes it so cheerful. To be sure there are (at least) strong and pregnant probabilities of the souls immortality to a natural eye, to a Philosophical eye with common light: And they that tell us of the souls Mortality; we may very well question, what manner of souls they have; to be sure as the Psalmist speaks, They are become like the beasts that perish. Others are so far in love with the souls immortality, that they would have every soul immortal; sensitive and vegetative souls. But it shall suffice us that the souls of men are so, and this is the fourth excellency of the souls of men; the excellency of their Duration.  
And this is the first head of Arguments by which you see the preciousness of a soul, from the several excellencies of the soul itself.  
(2.) If you would know the worth and preciousness of a soul; Consider what value and esteem they put upon it, that are best acquainted with the worth of it. This is one of the wisest and surest ways, to know the worth of a thing; to consider how they prise it that best know it.  
See then how they value souls, that know them best.  
I. God himself, the Creator of souls, 1. The Father of spirits; He must needs know the worth of souls, for he made them, and he weighs the spirits of men, he has often put them into the balance, and he knows the worth and weight of them. Now see how he esteems them; He has laid out his thoughts from everlasting, for the bringing in of some souls to himself; He has picked them out as his Jewels. The counsels and contrivances of heaven have been spent upon them. Now do you think that God would lay out his thoughts upon them from everlasting, unless they were very precious?  
II. Jesus Christ, the great Purchaser of souls; he bought them, and so must needs know the worth of them. It was no ordinary price that he paid for them neither; You were not ransomed with corruptible things, etc. Now do you think that Jesus Christ would have laid down his own life, spent his own precious blood for them except they had been very precious? There's nothing that does speak the worth and excellency of a soul, than what was laid down for them to redeem them. And these words in the Text are the words of him that bought souls; the words of Jesus Christ himself, the great Redeemer of souls, he tells you, that one soul is more worth than a world.  
III. The Angles, they are Spirits themselves; and so are more acquainted with the nature of Spirits than we are. See, how they esteem them.  
1. The Good Angels; what care do they take for souls? They are ministering Spirits for the good of souls. They pitch their Tents about them; they have charge of souls; they rejoice at the conversion of a soul. Heaven is always full of joy, brimful of joy; but it runs over with fresh joy, when a soul is brought in to a Saviour.  
2. The Evil Angels, those great Plunderers of souls, those black and damned Potentates of Hell; the Devils, these know the worth of souls too well.  
For (1.) What variety of temptations have they for the beguiling of a soul. How many thousand hooks and baits for the catching of a soul? How many designs and stratagems for the ruining of a soul? what ambushes and undermine for the undoing of a soul? how does he spread abroad his nets, and fill the world with snares, for the entangling of a soul? what serpentine windings and workings, what depths and methods of deceit, what flatteries and insinuations, and all for the deluding of a soul?  
2. How does he rage when a soul is plucked out of his paw? The whole legion of them is in an uproar and commotion; when they have lost one of their prisoners, they look upon it as a great loss.  
3. How does he envy Jesus Christ, the saving of one soul? How does he think souls too precious for him? If all the powers of darkness could hinder it, there should not be one soul translated out of their kingdom.  
4. How does he glory and triumph in the conquest of souls? If hell were capable of joy, it would have it then; when souls are captivated by this Prince of darkness. These are his spolia ampla, the goodly trophy's and monuments of his victory.  
5. How many factours and agents does he employ to bring in souls to his kingdom? how many are serviceable and instrumental to him? and how does he go up and down like a roaring Lion seeking whom he may devour? Do you think he would take so much pains about souls, if they were not worth it?  
6. In his formal Contracts; he does not stand long a cheapening, he'll give them what they'll ask, he knows he can't outbid himself. A soul is worth more, he knows, than he has to give for it.  
7. How does this torment him, that he is in a chain, and can do no more hurt to souls? that there is an hook in this Leviathan, that he is restrained and limited so as that he cannot have his will of souls?  
So that by all this you see, the evil Angels the Devils know the worth of souls too well.  
And this is the second head of Arguments, by which you see the preciousness of souls, etc.  
3. Arg. Because other things are precious in reference to the soul. The worth of the soul puts a lustre upon other things.  
1. Precious Faith; why is that so precious? because 'tis for the saving of a precious soul; 'tis such a radical and essential Grace; [We believe to the saving of the soul.  
2. Precious Promises; why are they so precious? because they are for the welfare of a precious soul. Cordials to revive a fainting soul; balm for the healing of a wounded soul; restauratives for the recovery of a languishing soul.  
3. Precious Ordinances; Why? but because God does here in especial manner display himself, and reveal himself to souls; He gilds them with his own glorious presence; they are the wells of salvation, out of which souls must quench their thirst.  
4. Precious Ministers; why such a lustre upon that Calling more than upon others? why they so honourable, but because they are more immediately conversant about souls? The converting of souls, that's the crown of the Ministry; You are my Crown, and my Joy, says Paul to his converted Philippians. No wonder then if contempt be poured out upon the Ministry, if once they come to neglect souls; if Cura Animarum be made but a slight business. But they that convert souls to righteousness, says the Prophet Daniel, they shall shine as the stars in the firmament, they shall have a more bright and massy Crown, answerable to a greater degree of service.  
4. Arg. If you would still see more clearly the worth and preciousness of souls; do but consider the variety of Gospel-dispensations in respect of souls.  
1. Those many invitations that are made to souls to come into Christ, that sweet Rhetoric, those strong motives, those powerful persuasions, those precious woo and beseechings of them. We beseech you by the mercies of Christ, by the bowels of a Saviour; we beseech you, as if God himself should beseech you to be reconciled unto him. Do you think there would be so much wooing and beseeching, if they were not very precious? Do you think the Spirit himself would so entreat, do you think the Holy Ghost would be so importunate with them else? Nay, these souls are so precious, as that he will have some for himself; he will take no denial, no refusal; Go and compel them to come in.  
2. Consider those sad Lamentations that are made when souls will trample upon their own mercy; as Christ speaks to Jerusalem; in that passionate strain, and dips his words in tears; O Jerusalem▪ Jerusalem, etc. This great lamenting shows that 'tis the loss of a precious thing.  
3. Know, that the World is kept up for this very end, for the bringing in of some souls for a Saviour. Do you think that God is at this vast cost and expense in maintaining this vast fabric of the Creation, only for men that oppose him, and provoke him, and violate his Laws? No, 'tis for the gathering of his Jewels, for the binding up some precious souls in the bundle of Life. If 'twere not for this, the very pillars and foundations of the world would crack asunder.  
4. Think upon the great Preparation that is made for the entertainment of souls; how that Christ is gone to prepare a place for them. What treasures of love and sweetness, what heaps of joy are stored up for them? what a weight of Glory? what Crowns? what Thrones? what glorious and unexpressible, and unconceivable Privileges shall they then enjoy?  
Thus by all these several Arguments you have seen the worth and preciousness of souls.  
Use. 1. And now when we consider the worth of them, we might even take up this sad lamentation; How is the gold become dross? how is the most fine gold changed? The precious souls of men that were purer than Snow, ruddier than Rubies, more polished then Saphires in their first Original; now their visage 'tis blacker than a coal. How are they become the reproach of him that made them, the body's slaves, the devil's captives, the scorn of every lust and temptation. Nay, you might even melt and dissolve into tears under this sad and serious consideration, that so few of these precious souls shall be saved; that there are so many of them that drop into hell irrecoverably. And though there be a generation of men in the world that will never go over this narrow Bridge, unless they put on Spectacles, that so they may tumble in more Artificially: men that lay down such large and reaching principles of so vast a latitude, as that they scarce make it possible for any to be damned: men that widen the narrow gate in their own apprehensions; yet God has revealed his mind expressly, and 'tis the constant voice of the Gospel itself, that there are but few of these precious souls that be saved. And, which is more, that as for men of the rarest and most admirable endowments, of the choicest accomplishments, men of most orient and glittering souls; there are fewer of these then of others. Not many wise, etc. And yet all this comes not about because of any want of Gospel-provision: not but that there is Balm enough in Gilead, Oil enough in that horn of salvation; not but that there are abundance of bowels in God, which yearn towards the precious souls that he has made; but because men refuse his goodness, and abuse his mercy; imprison his truth, and shut it up in unrighteousness.  
Now when men are told of the worth of their souls, when they are put in mind of their preciousness again and again, when they have all means for the welfare of their soul, and when they are directed in the ways that tend to the saving of the soul; when they are convinced that such and such lusts fight against their souls; and when they know that the present season of grace is all they are sure of, for the welfare of their soul; If they shall stubbornly refuse their own mercy, and wilfully and violently rush into their own ruin; though their souls were ten thousand times more precious than they are, yet they perish deservedly.  
Use. 2. Me thinks therefore at length men should come to such thoughts as these: 'Tis time now to provide for our own souls; 'Tis time now to build for Eternity: Tanquam semper victuri. If he that does not provide for his own house, is worse than an Infidel; then surely, he that does not provide for his own soul is little better. Yet how many are there in the world, that live so as if they had no souls to save? Many that take no notice of their own souls. These are spiritual Being's, and run not into their outward senses, and so they never mind them. These men's souls are so dark, as they cannot see themselves. Others that do take some little acquaintance with their own spirits; yet how do they leave them in a rolling and fluctuating condition; how do they venture Eternity? upon what strange uncertainties do they leave a precious soul? as he that was ready to die, said, He should know by and by, whether the soul were immortal or no; that was all he made of it. Or as that other, that complemented with his soul▪ in that sporting language, 
Animula vagula, blandula;  
Quae tandem abitura es in loca?  And yet 'tis an impression engraven upon every Being with a Pen of Iron, and with the point of a Diamond. Nay, 'tis a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 stamped upon every Being by the finger of God himself, that it should look to its own preservation; to the maintaining of itself: so that 'tis matter of amazement & astonishment, that the souls of men being such precious Being's, should look to their own welfare no more: And it can be resolved into nothing else, but into that same first and grand Apostasy from their God, the fountain of their life and happiness. When they lost their God, they lost themselves; and when they fell off from him, they Apostatised from their own Essence. And now they mind the body, and take care for things here below, and neglect themselves; If there be any that can repair the ruins of Nature, or that can wrangle a little for men's estates; these shall have honour and esteem in the world, and the things of the world at their command: But they that take care only for souls, these must live upon mere benevolence; as if the Ministers of the Gospel were nothing indeed but souls; as if they were properly Angels, that must assume a body, and deliver their message, and then must disapper. This does strongly convince that men prise their bodies and their goods above their souls; because men of such employments, Lawyers and Physicians these find better entertainment in the world, than the Ministers of the Gospel.  
Hence it is also that men neglect the seasons of grace, opportunities of mercy, advantages for their souls; which they would not neglect in other things. The Sabbath, the market-day for souls, how is it slighted, profaned? yet the Sabbath was made for man; for the soul of man chiefly, for that is the chief of man. And yet God had used very strong and powerful means to engage men to seek the welfare of their own souls. For out of his own infinite love and goodness he has by a strict connexion, knit and united his own glory, and the salvation of souls together: He has wrought Israel's Name in the frame of his own glory. That whereas now if these two were severed, a man were bound to seek the glory of God, before the salvation of his own soul. For though the soul be very precious, yet the glory of the Creator of souls is infinitely more precious. God therefore out of the riches of his grace, has so joined these together, as none can put them asunder. He that seeks the glory of God, does by this promote the welfare of his own soul; and he that seeks the saving of his own soul, does in this advance the glory of God. He that seeks the one, must seek the other also.  
Use. 3. If the souls of men be so exceeding precious, then admire the goodness of God, that does not leave them in the power of men.  
1. Some souls, the souls of his own people are so precious, as that he won't leave them in their own hands. You know how Adam disposed of his own soul, when he had it in his own keeping. And such men as are left to themselves, you see how they lay out their souls. But God has laid up some precious souls in a safe and sure hand; they are laid up as a rich Depositum in the hand of a Saviour, and they are kept by his Almighty power through faith unot salvation.  
2. Souls are so precious, as that he won't leave them to the disposing of other men. He keeps these Apples of his eye under the lid of his own Providence. The sword of an enemy, can reach but the sheath of the body. An enemy though never so fierce and furious, can but cut the sheath of the body asunder. Fear not them that can kill the body, and that's all they can do, etc. Yet such is the fury and implacableness of men, as that if they could reach the soul, that should be the first they would strike and wound; and they would damn other men's souls as surely as they do their own. As that desperate Italian, that having an enemy of his at advantage threatened to kill him, unless he would curse and blaspheme & renounce his Religion; that foolish man too covetous of a frail and fading life, yielded to him; but as soon as he had ended such blasphemies as were prescribed him, the other stabs him presently, and then triumphs and applauds himself in his bloody victory: O, says he, 'tis a kindly and delicate revenge; O, 'tis an orderly and methodical revenge, first to damn the soul, and then to stab the body. You see what the rage and fury of men would reach unto; but that God has set souls, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
3. And therefore thou that wilt trust him with thy precious soul▪ wilt not trust him for things here below? Wilt thou trust him for Eternity, and not for a moment? wilt thou trust him with the Jewel, and not with the casket? wilt thou trust him for thy Soul, and not for thy body, thy state, thy name? Think upon our Saviour's Argument: Consider but the Lilies of the field; they that have but vegetative souls, two or three removes off from matter; They neither spin nor ●●ile: why shouldst thou then have spinning and toiling thoughts? will he not much more take care for thee?  
Use. 4. See here the top of Antichristian fury; his cruelty to souls, as if the souls of men were Antichrists slaves, to be hurried up and down at his pleasure; as if an heap of precious souls, were but Antichrists footstool, for him to get up to his throne by. Consult but with that place in the 18. of Rev. vers. 12, 13. You'll see there that Antichrist trades there in very rich and costly commodities, Gold, Silver, Pearls, Purple, Silk, etc. But amongst the rest, he has one more precious than ordinary, and 'tis a sure and staple commodity that he trades in, and 'tis in the souls of men. And that which bespeaks the ruin of Antichrist, and cries aloud to that God to whom vengeance belongs, and 'twill pour out the very dregs of the vials upon him; his deluding of souls, his imposing upon souls his multiplying the bricks, putting out the eyes of souls, making them grind at his mill, to goround in an implicit faith; and like his slaves he buys them and sells them at his pleasure. The blood of souls is the Paint of that same spiritual Jezabel, and the Scarlet of the Babylonish whore; 'tis double-dyed in the blood of Saints.  
Use. 5. This speaks aloud to the Prophets, and sons of Prophets, that they would lay out all their golden talents, and precious opportunity for the welfare of souls; not only their own souls, but for the souls of others too; to be men of public influence, to spread light abroad in the world. 'Tis the strongest expression of love you can show to a Saviour; Peter, lovest thou me? feed my sheep; feed my lambs: Let this be a token of thy love, and sign that thou lov'st me. Does not it pity you to see so many precious souls famished for want of the bread of Life? so many ignorant souls rushing upon their own ruin for want of light; so many souls poisoned with unsound doctrine and strange opinions; so many unstable souls beguiled by rude and illiterate men that torture the Scriptures, and feed men so, as if Nonsense were the only Nectar and Ambrosia for immortal souls to live on. Don't you see how thirsty souls are, that they will drink in muddy waters? had not they rather, think ye, drink in pure and crystalline streams? Do they take in Error so fast, and would not Truth be more pleasant to them? You are the hope and the expectation of souls; if you should frustrate and disappoint them, whither should they go, or where should they betake themselves? Where shall the thirsty soul go, unless the fountain afford it some streams? where shall the newborn soul satisfy itself, unless the breasts afford it sincere milk? How shall the wand'ring soul find out its way, unless the Seers and Watchmen be pleased to direct it? How shall souls be seasoned with grace, if the salt itself be unsavoury? If the eye be darkness, how great must the darkness be? O lay out yourselves so, as that thousands of souls may bless you, and have cause to bless God for you. Truly the harvest is great and precious, and the labourers are few; pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he would send forth labourers into his harvest.  
FINIS.