A TREATISE OF Adhering to God; Written by Albert the Great, Bishop of Ratisbon. Put into English by Sir Kenelm Digby, Kt.  
ALSO A Conference with a Lady about Choice of RELIGION.  
LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman, at the Anchor in the New-Exchange. 1654.   

To the Lady DIGBY.  
MADAM,  
WHen lately I was commanded out of England, I was so streightened in time, that I was not able to carry any thing with me, besides what I had about me. And the difficulties that my servants met with in following me, and in bringing my carriages after me, made me remain here sometimes in want of my ordinary attendants, and of such necessaries as I had daily need of. I was not so sensible of any, as of the deprivation of my books: which in all fortunes I had ever sound my best companions; and in whose conversation I as well profited, as pleased myself. And therefore in all my journeys (even the longest and most cumbersome) I have ever used to have a convenient store of them with me. I was now reduced to have none other by me, but a short discourse of Albert the great, concerning the perfection of a spiritual life; which at my setting forth from London, I had put into my pocket; invited thereto, by the dignity of the subject, the excellency of the author, and the smallness of the bulk of it. I read it over with much delight; And judged it so profitable a work, that I desired to impress the contents of it as deep as I could in my memory: and indeed to convert the whole treatise, into the very substance of my soul, as hoping, it may one day serve me for a rule to govern my poor devotions by; as far as my feeble eyes may be able to see by the light of so dazzling a sun.  
This occasioned me to employ myself in rendering in my own tongue, the expressions which this author had made in Latin. For I believe, scarce any study doth so vigorously digest an other man's notions into the nourishment of ones own mind, as doth the translating or the paraphrasing of them. And when I had done it, I deemed it one of the most profitable tasks (of so short an one) that ever I had busied myself about. Neither could I be content to engross unto myself alone so noble a feast: I desired that my best friend should share with me in it: whose partaking with me in any good, I must ever account, the crowning and completing of it, to me. And therefore I presently resolved to send your La: a copy of this discourse: which I confess, is much impaired and enfeebled by its change of habit. For to express the author's sense with full weight, requireth alike knowledge as he had, of the matter he wrighteth of. And this is not to be acquired by humane industry, or dint of wit: but is an effect of the unction of the holy Ghost; that is never wanting where it findeth due preparations and dispositions on the creatures part. And in this, Mystical Divinity differeth from all other sciences, that the right understanding of it, dependeth of the precedent faithful practising it. Like as in divine truths, he that would see the light which shineth in them, must first believe them. To converse familiarly with the kingdom of God that is within us, requireth a total abstraction from the hindering objects that are without us. And the various course in the world, that I have run myself out of breath in, hath afforded me little means for solid recollection. Therefore it cannot be expected that I should otherwise comprehend this holy Bishop's notions, and express them in my language; then as men use to frame apprehensions upon hear-say of countries they were never in; and afterwards deliver them to others. They who have been there, will soon perceive great mistakes in the others discourses and descriptions. And so will your Ladyship (whom long, constant, practice hath rendered so profoundly knowing in this sublime Science,) in this translation, or rather short Paraphrase of mine. I have been fain to make it such, because I could not satisfy myself of rendering completely the author's sense by a verbal translation of his words. The composition of Authors are either forged in their fantasy; or are productions of their understanding; or are expressions of their affective part. All these (I conceive) do claim a different course to be taken in rendering them in another tongue. Those of the first kind do exact a strict verbal translation. For they springing from notions that have their residence in the fancy, and being barely of that low orb: plain words, that have their lively pictures also there, do represent them adequately; And consequently, in an other tongue, words of the same signification, do render them fully. But in compositions of deep judgement (in which the manners of expression do insinuate further meanings, than the mere words barely considered, do seem to employ) one must use a far different method to render them with their due weight and force in an other language. One must first comprehend the fullness of their sense, and settle in ones own thoughts the same; and then deliver those thoughts as completely and significantly as one can, in ones own words and manner of expression. For want of doing which, we see the best writers lose exceedingly of their strength and energy, when they are translated by such as confine themselves grammatically to their author's words.  
This maketh Tacitus so lame, and so bare in many translations; Aristotle so obscure and unpleasant; Avicenna so barbarous; Virgil so ungraceful; and S. Augustin himself appear oftentimes but flat and dry. Much more this happeneth in affective expression. We see how the same words that are extremely moving, when they are spoken in passion by a lover, prove flat and cold, when an other person barely relateth them. And such an effect as the manner of gesture and earnestness worketh in speaking, the like doth the manner of couching the sense, and the phrase, in writing. The Arcadia of Sir Philip Sidney (of whom I may say as St Augustin did of Homer, that he is passing sweet and delightful, even in his vanities) though it be very faithfully translated into other languages, in regard of grammatical construction, yet it appeareth with little grace amongst foreigners, who cannot believe how strangely that book useth to raise affections and passions in such as read it in the original English. If this be so in the expressions of such affections as have but creatures for their objects, how must it far with those which being fixed upon the Creator, do require a profound abstraction of the understanding & an admirable purity of heart in the readers, that they may have a right taste of them. He that will render efficaciously the expressions of a soul burning with affections, must be endued with a spirit of a like temper. He knoweth that such a one is not solicitous about his words: and that therefore he ought not to be scrupulous in weighing them. The understanding cannot look to the bottom of such expressions, nor relish the sweetness that is in them. He must abound with affections in himself, that would savour the language of affections spoken by an other. Hearts of this temper, are like the strings of different lutes tuned alike, which move in both, though but one be touched. Now Albert's language in this treatise, being much of this strain, I cannot be so partial to myself as to hope that my English arriveth near expressing the fullness of his sense. I may upon this occasion say as St Thomas did, when he was desired to comment salomon's mystical Song, as St Bernard before him had done (and with much more reason and justice;) If I had St Bernard's spirit, I would make such a comment as St Bernard did. He only that hath the spirit wherewith this illuminated Bishop wrote, can fully comprehend and render his sense in this divine and mystical treatise. Therefore I must necessarily have fallen very short in my translation; since it is not to be expected that I should make it speak, but at that rate, as myself did first understand it.  
Besides this improportion on my side; the Author's manner of delivering himself hath made my talk much more difficult. It is evident that he little regarded in what words or stile he expressed himself.  
He was so full of the matter, that he neglected the form and dress he put it in. And writing it in the nature of a summary remembrance, for his own use, and some other pious and intelligent persons of his own order, his particular friends (sor he was a Dominican Friar, before he was made a Bishop) he conceived it sufficient for him to give but hints or notes of what he aimed at: which would presently bring before them the whole sequel of considerations that were comprised under such heads, and that he had often discoursed largely unto them. And the nature of such a writing admitting frequent soddain transitions to new matter (or that may seem new, to one that seethe not the connection of it with what was said before) it is very hard to work such a piece into an even contexture with one entire and continued thread. The course I took to wade as well as I could through these difficulties, was to endeavour out of what he had said, to raise my own thoughts to be as like unto his, as my weakness could attain unto. And then I applied myself to express those thoughts as significantly as I could, in my own manner of speech, upon the model he hath left; (in the mean time, departing as little as I could from his words, where I might follow them) and connecting the broken transitions, as I conceived they were connected in his mind, though they appear not so at the first sight in the words that he hath uttered his conceptions by. Yet, notwithstanding his being thus short throughout, he often repeateth the same thing (but still with some addition and further explication of the matter) to inculcate it the deeper: as is recorded of Saint Jo. the Evangelist; who in his latter time, whensoever he was desired to preach, did still but repeat the same few words, by which he invited his auditors to the love that charity ordaineth. This showeth how the substance and perfection of a spiritual life consisteth in a very narrow room. And therefore St Denis the Areopagit, who is so diffuse in his treatises, is most succinct in his mystical divinity: as having for its subject but that only one thing which in the Gospel our Saviour telleth us is necessary.  
The end of all spiritual exercise, is but to love God with the whole activity of ones soul; And the expeditest way to bring one thereunto, is to banish all other affections and inclinations from the heart, and all other thoughts from one's mind. The impressions which creatures make in one are like boisterous winds, that wrinkling the face of a water (and peradventure raising mud in it) do deface and keep out those images, which would shine in it, if it were calm and smooth. He that can wisely keep his soul from adhering to any thing without him, shall find his creator shine gloriously within him. It is the eminence of superior things to send always emanations from them, for the bettering of inferior ones; if they exclude them not. So we see the sun sends his beams into every corner of the hemisphere, if nothing shut them out. Open the windows and draw the curtains, and the chamber that before was dark will then immediately grow lightsome. The shutters and screens which keep out the divine sun from illuminating and warming our souls, are the images of creatures, that reside in them. And therefore this Authors main endeavour consisteth in advising and pressing a total denudation from all such. Hence proceedeth this frequent iteration, and inculcating of this document.  
Yet he doth not so absolutely exclude all corporal shapes out of the imagination, but that he adviseth and exhorteth all men to exercise themselves in the continual meditation of our Saviour's passion. Man being composed of two natures; spiritual and corporal; and the corporal part having in this life gotten the start of the other, it is impossible for us, to tie up our senses from all commerce with material objects: and very hard for us to keep some of them from making smart impressions in our fantasy; which is as it were the window that letteth in outward lights to the soul. For the most part they are false and deceitful ones. And the only means to be secure from such, is to fill that store-house with safe materials; and than were it but through want of room, it will not admit of others. Of all these, the perfectest, and indeed the most agreeable to our nature, and consequently the most powerful to move us, is the history of Christ's life and passion. We see that even tragedies and Romances, of peradventure feigned subjects (or at least that concern not us) do strangely affect the hearers, and do raise strong passions and affections in them with a desire to imitate what they represent well done; and a compassion for the misfortunes and calamities that arrive undeservedly to worthy and well natured persons. How efficacious then must the consideration of Christ's passion and sufferings be to beget like, and fare stronger sentiments in any man that shall insiste upon them? The dignity of the person; the extremity of his base and cruel usage; his great deservings, even from them that so treated him; his undergoing all this, merely for our sakes, and particularly for every one of us; and the infailable certainty that the records of all these passages are undoubtedly true, would move a heart of stone that should entertain itself leisurely with these thoughts.  
And such compassion and tenderness for his sufferings to redeem and deliver us from misery, will beget love and passion in us to his person. And he being God, as well as man; our affections that thus begun divinity, which is the period of all spiritual exercises, and the top of all perfection, in this life; and the happiness of the next. And therefore our Saviour told his beloved and loving penitent, that the share she had chosen should never be taken from her.  
Upon these grounds Albert recommendeth the continual meditation of Christ's passion, to be always joined with the other exercise of depuring our imaginations, and hearts from the images and affections of all created objects whatsoever; Making thereby a ladder of his humanity to climb up to his divinity; which if we should look upon it without that veil between us and it, would strike us blind. As when a medicinal simple is too strong for our stomach to bear singly in its own substance, physicians use to allay and weaken it with some gentle liquor that is agreeable to our taste: and then drinking what delighteth us, with pleasure we swallow health.  
But Madam, I perceive I engage myself before I am ware in a talk, I am not able to go through with. Nor is it needful, for this little treatise (of as great value, as it is of little bulk) requireth neither commentary nor apology. My sending it to your Ladyship is an action of duty, and of affection. The first, in giving you an account of the expense of my time in this place, where I have been now a just week; and intitling you to all I shall ever do, or bring to pass, in any kind whatsoever during my whole life: And the other, in communicating to you what hath afforded me so much contentment, and may prove so solidly beneficial to me, if it please God to give me grace to make right use of it. I beseech your Ladyship pray him so to do, and to be pleased to give me your blessing. Calis the 6th of October (the feast of the glorious Patriarch of the Carthusians, who most admirably practised and instituted, what this treatise recommendeth) in the year 1649.  
Your Ladyship's most humble, most obedient, and most dutiful Son, K. D.   

To my Lady Winter, the wife of Sr. John Winter, late of Liddne in the County of Gloucester.  
MADAM,  
THe worthy Author giving me the view of this Translation in Paris, at my coming from thence I begged a copy, which he was pleased to bestow: and as he performed the work for his private use and recreation, and after dedicated it to his virtuous Mother the Lady Digby: So I, who have no other share then the conveying it to be printed for the public good, do offer up my little industry therein to your La: Yet not for this only, but that indeed I willingly take occasion to tell the world, how much my Lady Winter is esteemed and valued by her faithful Friend, and Kinsman,  
and most humble servant, W: Gr:   

A TREATISE OF Adhering to God.  

CHAP. I. Of the utmost and highest perfection that it is possiblefor a man to arrive unto in this life.  
I Have been casting with myself, how I might frame for my own use, a complete & perfect draught (as far forth as our nature is capable of in this life's banishment and peregrination) of what is the highest and noblest action for a man to employ himself about. And surely this is none other, than a ready, vigorous, constant and immediate adhesion unto God Almighty; by a total abstraction (as much as is possible) from all creatures whatsoever. For, the end of Christian perfection is Love and Charity; by which a Soul cleaveth to her Creator. And unto this adhesion of Charity, every man in particular is undispensably obliged under pain of losing Heaven, so far forth as concerneth the obeying God's commands, and the conforming himself to his Divine will: which obedience shutteth out whatsoever is repugnant to the essence and habit of Charity; and consequently all mortal sins. But religious persons have a further obligation than this, by having bound themselves to Evangelicall perfection, and to such duties, as though they be but of council and supererogation, yet by them the way is made more ready, and more secure to bring the observers of them to their journey's end; which is the possession, and fruition of God. And the observance of these shutteth out not only what is destructive to Charity; but also all other obstacles that may in any wise hinder or lose the fervour and activity of Charity, or that may retard or slacken the soul's union with God Almighty, which is in a great measure performed, by an entire and efficacious abrenunciation of all creatures whatsoever; even of our own selves.  
Now seeing that God is a spirit, and that he ought to be adored in Spirit and in truth; Joh. 4. (that is to say, by knowledge and love, by understanding and affection void of all mixture with any corporeal species, or material imaginations) hence it is that we are thus taught in the Gospel; when thou shalt pray, enter into thy chamber, that is, into the inner room of thy heart) and shutting the door, Mat. 6. to wit, of thy senses, there with a pure heart, a good conscience and a firm faith, pray to thy father in spirit and in truth in secret. All which is done, when a man laying aside all other affairs and thoughts, withdraweth himself wholly into himself: & then shutting out, and forgetting all created objects whatsoever, the superior part of his soul only poureth out before Jesus Christ her desires to her Lord God, in deep silence, and with confident security; and in so doing, dilateth, diffuseth, drowneth, inflameth and resolveth herself into him, through the violence of love with the whole weight of her heart, and with the utmost straining of all her faculties and powers.   

CHAP. II. How one may cleave and intent wholly to Christ, despising all other things.  
BUt he who desireth, and is resolved to apply himself to such a state, must lay down for an absolutely necessary ground, that he must shut his eyes and all his senses to all manner of outward implications and affairs that may cause any trouble, and must cast from him all cares & sollicitudes, as being altogether unconcerned in any creature whatsoever, or rather looking upon them as hurtful and pernicious to him. And then he must retire his whole life into himself; and there have no other object to entertain his thoughts withal, but Jesus Christ wounded and crucified. And that with a continual attention, and with all earnestness and straining himself to his utmost power, he must make it his only business, to pass by him into him, that is to say, by his Manhood into his Godhead, by the wounds of his humanity, into his glory and Divinity: and there readily and securely commit himself and all that concerneth him, to his unwearied, and all-seeing providence; according to St Peter's expression, when he saith (casting all your care and solicitude upon him, 1 Pet. 5. who ruleth and disposeth all things: And to St Paul, when he biddeth us be solicitous for nothing, Phil. 4. And to that direction of the Psalm, which adviseth us to settle all our thoughts upon the Lord, and he will nourish us. Psal. 54. And to the sense of the other which saith, It is good for me to adhere to God Psal. 74. And also of the other that telleth us, how the Royal Prophet kept the Lord always before his eyes, Psal. 15. And like the Soul in the Canticles that rejoiceth for having found him whom her soul loved. Cant. 3. The end whereof will be, that all goods will come along in company with that supreme good. And this is that heavenly hidden treasure, and that pearl of inestimable value which ought to be preferred before all other goods whatsoever, and is to be sought with strength of Spirit, and purchased with humble confidence, with tranquillity of mind, with careful guard upon ones tongue, with indefatigable endeavours, and even with the loss of all outward conveniences, and of ones very honour and reputation. For otherwise what would it avail a religious man to gain the whole world, if at the same time he should suffer detriment in his soul? or what profiteth him the state he hath engaged himself in, the holiness of his profession; the habit of perfection that he hath put on; and the whole oeconomy of his outward conversation, unless he be enlivened with the Spirit of Humility, and truth, where Christ dwelleth by faith, that is informed and quickened with charity? To him that is in this condition it may be truly said, the kingdom of God is within you; which is our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.   

CHAP. III. In what the perfect conformity of man with God consisteth in this life.  
IT is most certain, that by how much more a man's Soul is busied and solicitous about inferior and humane affairs, by so much the further she is carried away from superior and heavenly considerations, in which consisteth the flower and vigour of devotion. And by how much more intensely and fervently ones thoughts are recollected from remembering, loving and considering of inferior objects, and are fixed upon superior ones, by so much their proper will be the perfecter, and their contemplation the purer. For it is impossible that ones attention should at the same time be entirely and perfectly knit upon two distinct objects, that are as fare distant from one another, as light and darkness are. He that adhereth to God, dwelleth in light: but he that is glued to the world is overwhelmed with darkness. And therefore the sublimer perfection of a man in this life, is to be so united to God, that his whole soul withal her powers and faculties be in such sort wound up and riveted in him; and that he remember nothing but God; and that all his affections being united in a joyful exercise of love, do repose sweetly in the sole fruition of their Creator. For, the image of God expressed in the Soul, consisteth in these three faculties of hers: namely in the understanding, the memory, and the will. And as long as they in any man are not entirely impressed with the stamp of God, and the whole extent of them are not taken up with that, his soul cannot be said to be Deiformed, or perfectly resembling the divinity, according to the state in which the first soul was created. For, God is the form of the soul wherewith she ought to be impressed, as wax is with a seal, and she ought to have such a relation to him, as the copy of a picture hath to its original. But this is never completely done, but when ones reason and understanding is perfectly illuminated (according to its capacity with the knowledge of God, who is the supreme verity; and his will is perfectly set on fire with the love of him who is the supreme good; and his memory is totally absorbed in contemplating and rejoicing in his eternal happiness, and in reposing sweetly and delightfully in that thought. Now seeing that the glory of heavenly bliss consisteth in the full possession of these three, which will be completed in the next life, it is evident that a perfect beginning of them is the utmost perfection that our present life is capable of.   

CHAP. IU. How our operations ought to be in the Intellectual part of our Soul only, and not in our Senses.  
HE therefore is happy, who by continual receiving and expunging of all species and Images from his fantasy, and by reducing and turning his considerations inwards, and there raising his Soul up to God, groweth at length to that pass, that he forgetteth all material imaginations, and hath no other entertainment for his thoughts within him, but to employ them continually by pure and simple operations of understanding and love, about the only pure and simple object elevated above all composition, or materiality; which is none other but God. Be sure then that you banish out of your mind all imaginations, pictures, and forms of all things whatsoever, that are not God; to the end that your whole excercise and employment within you, be immediately concerning God, and be performed singly by your understanding, and by your will and affections. For the end of all spiritual exercises is the applying all one's thoughts to God, the busying them singly about him, the attending to him only, and the reposing entirely in him without any other solicitude or occupation of the mind; and this, singly in the intellectual part of our soul, by pure understanding, and by vehement strain of love, without any admixture of Corporeal imaginations. And this exercise is of so refined and pure a nature, that the fleshly organs of the body cannot reach unto it; but it is performed by that part of us which maketh us to be men, and reasonable creatures; that is by our understanding and our will. And therefore as long as a man entertaineth himself with his senses, and with the picture and impressions that outward objects do make in any of them, and dwelleth upon them; It may rightly be said of him, that he hath not yet grown out the motions and limits of his brutal nature; that is, out of the low orb in which he partaketh with brute beasts, and is not above them. For they have cognition, and are wrought upon by such material and sensitive species; and have not in them any spring of a higher strain. Whereas man in regard of his reasonable soul, that is endowed with the powers of understanding, of loving, and of the free will, is created according to the image & likeness of God: and by them he ought to receive into his soul pure and immediate impressons from God himself,, and cleave firmly to him, and become one with him. And therefore the devil through his envy to mankind is most vigilant and active to hinder a man from that exercise as much as he can; as being a kind of essay and beginning in this life of the eternal happiness he shall enjoy in the next. And in pursuance of that design he laboureth always with his utmost power to draw our minds from almighty God, sometimes by one temptation, sometimes by another, sometimes raising passions in us, otherwhiles begetting in our minds needless solicitousness, superfluous cares, and indiscreet anxieties; otherwhiles disordering us with unquietness within ourselves, or with dissolute conversation without us, or with unreasonable curiosity of what concerneth us not; sometimes with begetting in us an itch to read Books of unprofitable Subtleties, or to discourse of what belongeth not to us, or to inquire after news & occurrences of the world; otherwhiles by assaulting us with adversities and contradictions, & with an innumerable company of stratagems that he employeth against us: whereof though many may seem to be but of small moment, and not to be accounted as sins, yet in very truth they are exceeding great hindrances of this holy and sublime exercise. And therefore, be they concerning great affairs, or concerning but small ones; nay, though they may seem to be advantageous to us, or even necessary to be attended; nevertheless they ought to be wholly cut off and cast away, and our senses ought to be divorced from them. And accordingly, whatsoever we happen to hear, or to see, or whatsoever in any sort chanceth to pass before us, we must have a singular care that we transmit it not from our outward senses to our fantasy, and there frame an image or representation of it, and entertain our thoughts with it. Which if we be diligent in, and do keep such images from residing in our memory, and from recurring to our thoughts; they will be of no impediment unto us, nor cause us any distraction whiles we are praying, meditating, singing Psalms, or about any other spiritual exercise; nor will ever after return to molest us again. Therefore upon any occasion of what important affairs soever that may occur unto you, let your security & fortress be to keep it out from admittance into your thoughts, and from making any impression upon your mind; and to cast it and yourself readily and confidently and entirely, with peace and silence and calmness, into the arms of Gods all knowing and all governing providence; and then he will fight for you; and will certainly deliver you from all the evils that might arrive unto you from that coast; and will shine in your soul by Divine consolations. Whereas if you should think to overcome the difficulties that will arise against you, by your own industry and vigilancy, and by taking them to task, and wrestling against them in your own thoughts; all that you will gain by wearying yourself out with continual solicitude, and with having your restless imaginations day and night fixed upon what you would prevent or compass; will be to discover plainly in the conclusion, that all humane wisdom is mere folly, and that the result of such toilsome enslaving of the soul to vain and unreasonable occupations, is but loss of time, abasing of our mind, and even a fretting out of the spirits that give life to our body; without effecting what we have so earnestly and passionately laboured for. When therefore any accident happeneth to you of what kind soever it cometh, make account it is sent you by a tender Father that is continually watchful over you, and accordingly receive it with an even and unmoved mind, and let it not afford you matter either for discourse with others, or for thoughtfulness within you. But unclothe your imagination from all ideas and images of corporeal objects, according to the duty of your condition and profession; that so you may cleave fast with a pure soul to him you have bequeathed yourself, and that no created thing whatsoever may intervene between you and him, and that through the sacred wounds of his humanity, you may be securely and steadily wafted over to the incomprehensible light of his divinity.   

CHAP. V Of the purity of heart, which above all things is to be aimed at.  
IF therefore you desire to walk in the strait and direct way that will bring you readily and safely to your journey's end, both of grace in this life, and of glory in the next, you must with a constant and never interrupted attention, employ all the diligence and industry you are able to purchase a perpetual cleanness of heart and purity of mind, and untroublednesse of senses. You must recollect as it were into one burning point all the inclinations and affections of your Soul, and cast it upon God, and fix it irremoveably upon him. Which to do efficaciously you must withdraw yourself from the conversation of your friends, and indeed of all mankind (as much as is possible for you) and from all business of what kind soever that may in any sort divert or retard this design of yours, laying hold of all conveniences that may beget a quietness and tranquillity in your soul, and may advance your contemplation: betaking yourself for that purpose to the silence and solitude of some close retreat, where you may lie secure at anchor, free from the Rocks and dangers of this fading life (against which so many do suffer unhappy shipwreck) and be sheltered from the noiseful storms of the deceitful world. But while you are in this haven you must not grow remiss, as though now all dangers were passed, and your work were at an end; but you must see yourself with a continual vigilancy to keep your outward senses strongly shut, and to watch narrowly your own hart; so as no enemy may break in upon it, and cause in it any disquiet, or taint the purity of it with the drossy images of sensible and terrene objects. This purity of heart is the top of all spiritual exercises, and is the end for which he that aspireth at Evangelicall perfection, forsaketh the world; and is the compensation that in this life he can have of all his labours. And therefore you must strive with all earnestness to free your heart, and to sequester your senses and affections from all objects whatsoever that may hinder the liberty of your spirit, or that may have any power to draw or inveigle, or bind you to them. And you must sum up all the affections of your soul, and recollect all the dispersions of your heart, and fix them inseparably upon that true and supreme good, which being but one, and in itself most simple, containeth all good in it. And by such close adhesion to God, and dereliction of all created objects, and rejecting of all terrene and frail affections, you must endeavour to transform your heart through Jesus Christ into a kind of divine nature; and when once you come to thrive so happily in this high employment, of unclothing and purifying your imagination from all species and images residing in it, and of refining and exalting your heart to such a simplicity that it can rest no where but in God, and that you now begin to suck into the bowels of your soul pure streams from the fountain of his divine providence, and that you relish them savourly, and that you unite yourself to him by conforming yourself in every thing to his divine will; then this alone, this single exercise is all that you need busy yourself about. This will suffice for your whole occupation. In this will be summed up all your other studies; your reading and meditating of the holy scriptures, your loving of god and of your neighbour. And in a word, this will bring you to the highest degree of perfection that this life is capable of, by such ways and paths as no man is able to delineate, but are purely the work of the holy Ghost within you, and of his unction. Let therefore all your study, endeavour, and labour be to reduce your heart unto such a simplicity, that being unmoveable at the strokes of all outward objects upon your fantasy, you may repose your understanding, and settle your affections with such tranquillity, and fixedness in God, within yourself, as if your soul were already arrived to that happy state of unvariable Eternity, in which the present fruition of the all-comprehending divinity so overreacheth all times and actions, that there is nothing either past or to come in relation to it; and therefore can admit no change or vivicissitude of accidents. And this is attained by forsaking and abandoning yourself entirely without any restriction, for the love of Jesus Christ; and casting yourself upon God with a pure heart, and a firm confidence in his allseeing providence; and resigning yourself with an unmoved patience and security in all events and tribulations to his Fatherly disposing of you. But this cannot be effected, unless you turn continually inwards, and there treat closely with your own heart, without ever wand'ring astray out of it, and that you deliver yourself (as far as it is possible) from all outward implications, and that you keep the eye of your soul in a perpetual purity and tranquillity, and that you preserve your understanding from all commerce with the forms and images of inferior and transitory things; and that you wean the affections of your will from all terrene and fading goods, and settle them with the whole activity of your soul upon the only true supreme good; and that you raise and fix your memory upon a continual representation of that essential and uncreated good; and that thus your soul, with all the powers and faculties of it, absorbed up in God Almighty, do become one spirit with him, which is agreed on all hands to be the highest perfection that in this life man's nature is capable of. For by this union of spirit and love with God; and by such conformity, or rather transformation of your will to God's eternal will; you become by grace, such as God is by nature. And you may lay up this for an infayleable truth, that in the very instant wherein a man is enabled by God's assistance to overcome his own will, by casting from him all inordinate love and solicitude, and by delivering himself totally in all his necessities into God's hands, to dispose and steer his course as he pleaseth; he by this becometh so acceptable to God almighty, that he presently replenisheth him with his grace, by which is kindled such a fire of charity and delection in his soul, as immediately expelleth all ambiguity and fear, and fasteneth his hope and confidence in God. And certainly no condition can be so happy, as to rely securely on all occasions upon him, who we are sure hath no defect in his nature. Therefore if at any time you find a wavering in your own thoughts, or an inclination to any solicitude for aught that may have happened unto you, throw yourself with a careless security into his arms; and he will embrace you, and cure your fears, and will deliver you from the assaults, and from all danger of it. Believe it, those points if you duly ruminate, and digest them within your own heart; will more conduce to make your life happy, then if you abounded with all the riches, delights, honours, wisdom and knowledge that this deceitful world can bestow upon her favourites; & that in them you exceeded all the men that have ever lived.   

CHAP. VI That true devotion consisteth in adhering to God by the Understanding, and Will, depured from all commerce with material Objects.  
Seeing then by how much the more you shall cleanse your thoughts from the drossy images of created objects, and sequester yourself from outward, worldly and sensible occupations; by so much the more your soul will recover her natural vigour, and relish of those objects that are of kin to her; The best lesson you can learn, is to keep her from all commerce with the ideas and images of corporeal things. For certainly there is nothing so pleasing to God, as a mind in such a state: And when he findeth such a one, who being free from all carnal affairs, passions, and distractions, attendeth unto him only, and with a pure understanding fixeth singly upon him; then he maketh good what he hath said of himself, that it is his delight to be with the children of men. Whereas if you suffer your memory to lodge the species of sensible objects in her store-house, or allow your thoughts and imagination to entertain themselves with such, it is impossible but that your soul should be tincted, either with the relics of what you have formerly conversed with, or with the impressions of what you are presently busy about. And then you may be sure the holy Ghost (who withdraweth himself from those thoughts that are without understanding) will make himself a stranger unto you. Therefore he who loveth Jesus Christ truly, aught to be so united by a pure understanding, & by a good will to the goodness, & to the will of god, and so abstracted from all worldly considerations, and so void of all passions, that he heed not what opinions other persons do entertain of him; whether he be beloved, or hated; esteemed or derided; or what any man can attempt or effect against him. For, it is the goodness of the Will that supplieth for all things, and is above all things. And therefore as long as a man is owner of a good Will, and is purely conformable, and united to God in his Understanding; he is out of danger of receiving any prejudice by his flesh, or sensual part, or by his outward man, though it should be inclined to evil, and be resty and benumbed to good; nay though his inward man should be dry and heavy in the exercise of devotion, he is safe, as long as he cleaveth firmly to god by faith, and by good will in the superior part of his soul. And this he doth, when he reflecteth upon his own imperfection, & nothingness; and frameth a strong and deep judgement, that all his good consisteth in his creator only, and with all the powers and faculties of his soul renounceth himself, and all creatures, and drowneth himself and all his powers in his creator, in such sort that he directs all his operations purely and entirely to him, and neither seeketh, nor desireth any thing but him, in whom he already perceiveth that all good, and all perfect felicity is comprised. And by thus doing, he is in a manner transformed into God: so that he can neither think, nor understand, nor love, nor remember any thing but God, and of God: and if he chanceth at any time to see either himself, or any creature, he seethe them not as they are in themselves, but only as they are in God. Nor doth any share of his love rest in them, but all of it passeth through them to God, and resteth in him. And this knowledge of truth always rendereth a soul truly humble, and maketh it severe to itself, without ever judging others; whereas worldly wisdom swelleth a soul with pride, vanity, and empty wind. Take this then for the foundation of all spiritual doctrine; that if you desire to arrive to the true knowledge, service, familiarity, and full possession of God Almighty; you must necessarily divest your heart of all sensible love, not only of all persons whatsoever, but of all creatures whatsoever; that so you may with a pure and entire heart, and with all the powers of your soul, apply yourself, freely, without all doubleness, care and solicitude to your Creator, casting yourself in all occasions with a full confidence upon his single providence.   

CHAP. VII. In what manner one's heart is to be recollected within one's self.  
IT is very truly said in the book of the Spirit and the Soul, Cap. 21. that to ascend up to God, is to enter into ones self. For without all doubt, he, who turning his operations inwards, pierceth▪ through himself, and goeth beyond himself, is really and truly raised up to God. We must therefore have a care to recollect our heart from the dispersions, and distractions of this world, and to recall it to those joys it will find within itself; that so it may in time be enabled to keep itself steady in the light of divine contemplation. For the life and rest of our heart consisteth in fixing it by earnest desires upon the love of God, and in tasting the sweetness of those consolations, which with a liberal hand he giveth to those who love him. And the reason is obvious why we are so frequently frustrated of the experimental enjoying of this happiness, and are not able to taste and savour it in the full sweetness of it. For whiles our soul effuseth itself upon exterior objects, and is choked with the solicitude of transitory things, she entereth not into herself, by the setting before her eyes those solid considerations which her memory ought always to be stored withal; whilst she is pestered and overclouded with the images of creatures, she returneth not into herself by the superior part of her understanding, into which no such object can have admittance; and whiles she is entangled with concupiscences, she is hindered from reverting into herself by vehement desires of that interior sweetness, and spiritual joy, which belongeth only to a purified and inflamed soul: & so lying groaning among these present material, and fading objects, she is not able to turn herself inwards, and discern the image of God that is form there. It is therefore absolutely necessary for him who aimeth at this noble and high pitch, that with profound humility, and yet withal with entire confidence he raise himself above himself, and above the whole machine of creared beings, by the abnegation of them all; saying thus to himself; he whom my heart hath chosen from among all things, whom it seeketh above all things, and whom it loveth and desireth beyond all things, is not to be known by my senses, nor comprised by my imagination; but is above all that is Sensible, & above all that is Intelligble: he is not perceptible to any faculty of mine, but yet he is such, as I may desire, and love him with all the powers and faculties of my soul: he is not representable by any shape, yet I may thirst after him with the most inflamed affections that can be raised within me: nor can he be prised, or valued near his worth, by all I can say or think of him; and yet my heart, if it be clean from all drossy affections, can seize upon him, and unite itself to him by excesses of love. For he is beautiful, and delightful, infinitely beyond all things in the world, & is of infinite goodness & perfection. And then after such like discourses and considerations, his soul entereth yet deeper into itself, and raiseth itself yet higher above itself, and looseth itself (as I may say) in the divine mist of incomprehensible light. And this manner of ascending even to the enigmatical beholding of the most holy Trinity, in Jesus Christ, is by so much the more inflamed and vehement, by how much those operations, which carry the soul upwards, are more interior; and is by so much the more profitable, & raiseth one so much higher, as the love one soareth with is more vigorous and fervent. For in spiritual operations the measure of their height and excellency is their interiournesse, and recollectednesse from all outward dissipation. Therefore you must not give over, or sit you down to rest, till you have gotten some taste, as it were an earnest-penny of that fullness which will hereafter swell you up; and till you have obtained some first fruits of that heavenly sweetness which will hereafter please beyond all measure the spiritual palate of your soul: nor must you slacken your pace in running after that divine odour you begin to have the wind of, till you come to see the God of Gods in Zion. For you must settle this as a fundamental rule in the progression of the soul, and in the adhesion and union to God within you, that you must never retire nor repose, till you have obtained what you aim at. Consider those who travel up a mountain; and apply to your case what happeneth unto them. If a soul engulfe herself by concupiscence among those things that slide along beneath her, she presently loseth her way in a labyrinth of infinite distractions, and of obliqne and crooked ways, and is as it were divided from herself, and is torn into as many pieces, as there are several objects that she is glued unto by her desires. And from hence proceedeth the instability of men's actions, without any fixedness upon the resolutions they had once taken; their toilsome running, without arriving to the end of the course, and their perpetual labour without any rest. But if a soul do raise herself by divine affections, and love, from what is beneath her, and would entangle her in a multitude of distractions; and, forsaking all creatures without her, do recollect herself within herself unto that one, immutable, all-sufficient good, whereof she will find the image within herself; and do learn to dwell and converse always with it; and do cleave inseparably to it, by inflamed desires and affections; such a one will increase daily in strength and perfection, proportionably to the knowledge and desire that lifteth her up to that one supreme, immutable good; Till she herself become at the last immutable too; and arrive without fear of change, to that true life, which is none other but God himself; where without all succession, or variety of actions, & without all vicissitude of time, she may repose eternally in that interior quiet, and secret mansion of the divinity; unto which the contemplation of Jesus Christ will bring her, who is the way that all they must travail in, who propose heaven for their journeys end; and is the truth of the Understanding, and the life of the Soul.   

CHAP. VIII. How, in all chances, a spiritual man ought to resign himself too God.  
I Conceive, that by what is hitherto said, you now discern how the more you cleanse your imagination from the ideas of all outward things, and sequester yourself from all worldly and created objects, and unite yourself to God by your Will and Understanding, so much the more you approach to the state of innocency & perfection. And what condition can be better, happier, or more delightful than that? strive then to keep your mind free from all impressions that may amuse or entangle it: and let not your thoughts have any commerce with the world, or even with your friends; nor be you concerned in the prosperities, or adversities, either of them, or of yourself; nor busy your mind with any worldly affair whatsoever, either past, present, or to come: Nay, not so much as to be over solicitous of your own past sins: but with a kind of confident simplicity, and purity of heart, imagine yourself to be out of the world, singly with God almighty; as though your soul were already in the state of Eternity, severed from your body. Which if she really were, it is certain she would then no longer trouble herself with secular affairs, nor care what posture the world were in, nor be concerned with peace or war; or fair weather or foul, or any other secular occurrent whatsoever; but would attend wholly, & uniformedly to God alone, and would rest in him, and cleave inseparably to him. Begin from this very hour, in some sort, to do thus. Sever yourself even now, by your affections, from your own body. Banish from your thoughts all created things whatsoever, either present, past, or to come; and fix the purified eye of your soul, as steadily, and as earnestly as you can, upon the eternal, increated light. And when you are throughly cleansed from all corporeal images, & your soul is delivered from all worldly encumbrances and mists, you will become like an Angel that were assigned to a body, but received no prejudice in his operations by that society, nor were annoyed with vain and ungoverned thoughts. Let your spirit therefore strengthen itself against all manner of temptations, trouble, and injuries; that in all fortunes it may remain unmovable in God. And when any disturbance, or tediousness, or opression of mind shall grow upon you, be not for that dejected, or out of hart, or betake yourself to vocal prayers, or to outward consolations: but attend only to raise yourself up to God by pure acts of your will, and of your understanding, and to adhere to him in the superior part of your soul, whither your corporeal part will or no. For a soul that is truly devout, aught to be so united with God, and to conform her will so entirely to his that she have no relation or adhesion to any creature, no more than if herself were not yet created; or as though there were nothing else in being, but God and she. And such a one will receive all things with indifference, from the hand of divine providence; and resign herself uniformly in all occasions to God, with patience, tranquillity, and silence. When therefore you shall have arrived to this state, no creature will then interpose itself between God and you. And this is that, which by the profession of religion we aim at. For by the vow of voluntary Poverty, we deprive ourselves for the whole durance of our life of all outward goods: by the vow of Chastity we renounce our bodies; and by the vow of Obedience, we forsake our wills, and even our souls themselves: so that after these, nothing remaineth that may intervene between god and us, to keep us at a distance from one another. This we engage ourselves unto, when we enter into religion, & clothe ourselves with the habit of our order. But whether or no our inward purity do answer to our outward profession, that resteth between God and our own consciences. But certainly we should degenerate exceedingly, and sin grievously against God, and against his Justice, if we should do otherwise, and should prefer the creature before our Creator; and by our affections, and desires, cleave rather to that, then to him.   

CHAP. IX. That the contemplation of God is to be preferred before all other exercises.  
Now because all things that are not God, are but works of his hand, & effects proceeding from him their Creator, & that their powers & beings are limited, and, as being produced of nothing, are always tending to nothing; it is evident that whiles they exist, there cannot pass a moment wherein they draw not their beings, their conservations, their working, and all else that followeth of their beings, from God their Creator who is the fountain & wellhead of all Being: in respect of whom they are not only lame and defective, but even as nothing is to that which is Being itself, and as that which is finite and narrowly circumscribed, is to what is infinite. And therefore in him only, and about him, and for him, let us employ all our whole life: admitting his infinite Wisdom, his infinite power, and other his infinite perfections, who is able with one act of his will to create if he please infinite new worlds, each of them infinitely more perfect than this which he hath created. Without doubt no contemplation of the understanding, nor fruition of love by means of the affections is so profitable, so perfect, and so blissful, as that which hath directly for its object God almighty our Creator, and true supreme good, from whom all things do flow, in whom all things are contained; by whom all things are preserved, and for whom all things were made; who is infinitely all-sufficient both to himself, and to all things else: who containeth in himself from all eternity the perfections of all things whatsoever, resumed in so pure a simplicity, that he hath no mixture in him, nor hath any accident belonging to him, but all that is in him, is he himself: with whom, and by whom, all the causes of fleeting and decaying things have a permanent stability: in whom reside the immutable originals of whatsoever is subject to change and vicissitude: and in whose essence do live the eternal principles and models of all creatures whatsoever, either reasonable or unreasonable, or any ways depending of time: who completeth all things: who entirely filleth all things, and every thing, essentially with himself; who is more inward, and more present to every thing, than the thing is to itself: and lastly, in whom all things are summed up and united together, and do live eternally. But if any person should through weakness of capacity, or want of training to these considerations, find them of too hard digestion for him; and be inclined to ground his immediate contemplation rather upon the creatures, then upon the creator: yet let him have a care to order his meditation or contemplation in such sort, as out of it may rise in him a delectation in God one and threefold; and in his breast may be kindled the fire of divine love, and of true life, which may light and guide him to eternal felicity. And herein consisteth the difference between the contemplation of faithful Christians, and that of the heathen Philosophers. For these latter directed their contemplation to themselves; and therefore it resteth in the understanding; the bettering of which was the end & scope of their meditation. But christians do employ themselves in this exercise, for the love of him whom they contemplate; that is, of God, who is the object of their contemplation. And therefore it resteth not finally in their understanding by cognition; but passeth to their will by love and affections. For it is much happier for a man to know Jesus Christ, and be united to him spiritually by grace and Charity; then without them, to have him in them corporally, or even essentially. Now the ready means to enlarge the eye of contemplation, is, to have one's soul abstracted from all creatures, and to keep it reflected upon itself; whereby it maketh a ladder of itself, by which it ascendeth to the contemplation of God himself. And when it is fixed, there it burneth with desire of heavenly, eternal, and divine goods; and looketh upon all transitory ones at a huge distance, considering them indeed as nothing. But of the different methodes of contemplating God, that which proceedeth by negations, is the more excellent & sublime. In which we begin by denying all corporeal things of him, or whatsoever may be grasped by our senses, or figured by our imagination. Then we proceed by denying of him, all intelligible objects, or whatsoever may be faddomed by our understanding. And lastly, we deny even Being itself of him, in that sense, and under that notion, as we conceive the Being's of creatures. And then we are arrived (according to Dionysius Areopagita) to the highest pitch of union with God, that our nature is capable of in this life. And this is the mist which God is said to inhabit; Into which Moses entered; and by it come to unaccessible light. But in this journey we must advance by orderly steps, the animal part must precede the spiritual. And therefore we must begin with the labour of action, before we can attain to the rest of contemplation; and we must lay a foundation of moral virtues, before we can ascend to the top of speculative ones. All which when thou hast seriously considered (my soul) tell me if it were not folly and madness to busy thyself in vain about multiplicity of things? Dost thou not see how thou art still in want, & in necessity, as long as thou entertainest thyself with them? Give over then all other employments and thoughts; and settle thyself to this only one of contemplating, and loving the one only true good, in which all good is comprised, and thou needest no more. Oh! how unhappy were that man who knowing all things else, and enjoying all things else, were in the mean time ignorant of him? And though he should know all things, together with him; yet they would add nothing to his happiness: for that consisteth singly in him. And therefore the Evangelist saith, The knowing of thee is eternal life: Jo. 17. And the Prophet, I shall be satiated when thy glory appeareth. Ps. 16.   

CHAP. X. That actual and sensible devotion is not so much to be regarded, as to adhere to God with ones will.  
BUt when I so much inculcate the raising of affections, and love in the soul, my intention is not to advise you to insist upon actual devotion, or upon such sensible sweetness (oftentimes accompanied with tears) which the spiritual exercises of tender and devout persons are frequently accompanied with. I mean only that you be mentally united to God by your will in the superior part, and intellectual, of your soul. For no devotion whatsoever, or spiritual exercise is of so high and excellent a strain, or so pleasing to God, as to keep our mind free from the images, likeness, and Ideas of creatures. And this is that which particularly belongeth to a religious man, and which his profession obligeth him unto. For as by his vow he hath renounced all creatures whatsoever; so in his practice he ought to keep his mind free from them, to the end he may have his thoughts and affections continually fixed and riveted upon God alone. And therefore be careful to renounce yourself in all things; that so having reduced yourself into a perfect nakedness of all creatures, you may follow Christ our Lord God and Saviour, and tread in those steps he hath marked out unto us, who was truly poor, chaste, and obedient; and was humbled lower than ever man was: many were scandalised (as appeareth in the Gospel) because their weak eyes, not being capable of that divine light that shone in all his actions, they rejected and were offended at what was too sublime for them. Now to give you an instance of the abstraction I require in you from all created things, whereby you may conceive what it is I recommend unto you in all the rest; I pray you consider what Sentiments a separated soul hath of her body she hath left behind her. Certainly she regardeth not what becometh of it, nor is she concerned whither it be burned or hanged, or any ways contumeliously used; nor hath she any regret for any injuries, ill treatments or scorns that may be heaped upon it. But she hath all her powers & attention fixed upon that state of Eternity she then enjoyeth, and upon that one single necessary thing that our Saviour hath recommended in the Gospel. Luc. 10. Such sentiments as these I would have you beget in your mind, even in this life, whilst your soul is in your body. Regard it no more, then if your soul were parted from it, and let all your thinking be of that one necessary point: and rest confident, you will here find a wonderful increase of grace and swift progress in obtaining true purity of mind, and simplicity of heart. For that one necessary thing will immediately follow of itself, upon your banishing all images from your thoughts, and upon your withdrawing yourself from all implications, proceeding from created objects; and you shall then immediately find God shining in your soul, and you will feel her closely united to him, that nothing can sever her from him. Neither will any allurements inveigle her, nor any torments force her from her beloved. You will be invincible in all tentations and assaults; as the holy Martyrs and Fathers were, and the rest of the elect, and all those that are now Saints in heaven: who despising all created things, attended to no other thought but such as concerned security and eternity of the soul in God. And thus armed within, and united to God by the affections of their will, they overlooked and neglected all the things of this world, as though their soul were quite out of it, by having taken leave of their body. Thus you see the admirable power that a rightly placed love, and a will united to God hath, rven so much, as though through the impression that a soul receiveth then from God, and through her spiritual separation from her compartner the flesh, she looketh upon her outward man at a far distance, and as if he belonged not to her, and consequently neglecteth all the violences that can be used to her flesh, as though they were executed upon an other, or upon some creature that were not a man. For he who adhereth to God, becometh one spirit with him: and consequently in respect of that of him by which he adhereth to God, he ceaseth in some sort to be himself, or what he was before. Of which transformation the fleshly part not being capable, but remaining still in its own grossie nature, it is as it were divorced from the soul, that hath taken too high a flight for her flesh to follow her in; and therefore she looketh down upon it as if it concerned her not. Be sure therefore never to give admittance within you to any thought unworthy of God: but remember that your happiness and perfection dependeth on raising up your soul to him; and on having him always present to the eye of your understanding; and on fixing it so attentively upon him, that it look upon nothing beside, as though there were nothing in the world but God and yourself. And in this union you will enjoy those happy embraces, that are in this life a fair beginning of the blessedness and joys of the next.   

CHAP. XI. In what manner we are to resist temptations, and to bear tribulations.  
THere is no man who cometh to God with a true and entire hart, but he is tried with sundry vexations and temptations; in which I can give you this comfort, that though you be troubled by feeling them, yet you will receive no prejudice by them, as long as you yield no consent unto them, but bear them with humility, patience, and equality of mind. And if you should be assaulted with temptations of blasphemy, oruncleane representations; the best you can do in that case is to neglect them, and account them as nothing. For be they in themselves never so foul, or wicked, or horrid; yet as long as they go no further than your fantasy, and range there against your will, they are not to be imputed to you, nor do they require that you should trouble your conscience with them. The enemy will certainly fly, and leave you in peace, if you contemn him and his attempts. For he is proud, and cannot endure to be neglected and scorned. And therefore your best remedy is to regard them no more, then as if they were but flies buzzing before your face against your will. And consider how unseemly it were for the servant of Jesus Christ to be made to lose sight of his master, by the importunity of a contemptible fly, and fall into indignation, murmuring and complaints at so trivial a matter, as a slight temptation of suspicion (for example) a sadness, or detraction, or insufficiency, or any other such small adversity; all which (like flies chased away with the moving of one's hand) are put to flight by an act of the will elevated up to God, and by love settled in him. For such a will bringeth a man to be the particular possession of God (who will have a care of what is particularly his own) and to have the Angels his guardians and protectors. And therefore is peace promised to men of good will. Neither can any thing of greater value be offered to God, than a good will. For such a one is the origine of all goodness in the soul, and the mother of all virtues. And whosoever hath it, hath completely all that is requisite for him to be happy. And therefore if any obstacle happen to hinder the good which such a will desireth, God supplieth, and giveth the recompense, as if the effects had succeeded to his desire: whereupon by an immutable decree he hath entailed merit and demerit upon the will: according to which he proportioneth our reward in heaven, or punishment in hell. And the merit of the will is nothing else but love: that is, a great earnestness to serve God; a sweet affection in pleasing God, and a most fervent desire of enjoying God. But to conclude the subject of this chapter: let this trust comfort you in all temptations, that to be tempted is no sin, but an occasion for you to exercise virtue, and a School to profit exceedingly in. And indeed, the whole life of man is but a temptation upon earth.   

CHAP. XII. Of the love of God, and of the great power it hath.  
ALl that we have hitherto said, and in a word, whatsoever is necessary for salvation, is performed best, most compendiously, most securely, and most effectually, by love; which alone, is able to supply for the want of any thing requisite to bring a man to beatitude; and in it, is contained the plenitude of all good; for by it the object upon which one exerciseth it with earnestness, becometh present to one. It is love only that turneth us towards God, that transformeth us into God, that we adhere to God by, that uniteth us to God, and maketh us become one spirit with him; and lastly, that rendereth us happy in this life by grace from him, and in the next life by glory in him. For, love resteth not, but in the fruition of the object beloved, and in a plenary and peaceful possession of it. It is the way by which God descendeth to mankind, and by which man ascendeth up to God. For where Charity (that is to say, where love) is not, God can have no residence. If therefore we have Charity, we have God: for God is Charity. Nothing hath a keener edge than love; nothing is more subtle, nothing searcheth farther, nor pierceth deeper. It alloweth itself no repose, until it hath surveyed all the qualities and dimensions of what it loveth, and have dived into the very centre of it. It will cleave so fast to the beloved object, that it will become one with it, or rather it will not be content, till it have so transformed itself thereinto, as it ceaseth to be any longer itself, by becoming (If so I may say) the very thing that it loveth; and that it admitteth no immediate thing whatsoever to remain, or intervene between it, and what it tendeth unto, which is God himself. Unto whom it tendeth with so great a vehemence and force, that it is in a perpetual unquietness and activity, until it have run through all things that lie between them, and have seized upon him, and have submersed itself in him. For love hath an unitive and transformative power, that changeth the lover into what he loveth, and again the beloved into the lover: so that each of them is in the other as intrinsically as possibly can be. Which how it is, will the more plainly appear, if we consider severally the commerce that is between them in the two several powers of the soul, the understanding & the will of him that loveth. First, in regard of the understanding, and apprehensive faculties; the beloved is in the lover by his continual forming the image of the beloved in his thoughts; where he converseth intimately with him in a most sweet and delightful manner; and again the lover is in the beloved, not contenting himself with a superficial knowledge of what belongeth to him, but using his utmost endeavours, to dive into the inmost secrets of him, and to reach the bottom. Secondly, in regard of the will, and of the affective & desiring faculties, the beloved is said to be in the lover by residing in his heart through an affectuous compleasance, and joyous delectation in him: and the lover is in the beloved by having the same desires which he hath; by willing the same things which he willeth; by disliking the same things which he disliketh, by rejoicing and grieveing for the same, and by having an exact conformity with him in all things, as though he were not a distinct person from him, but even he himself. For love draweth the lover out of himself, and planteth him in the beloved, and settleth him most intimately there: whereupon it is said in the Canticles, Cant. 8. that love is as strong as death, which carrieth the soul out of the body. And it may well be said, that the soul is more where it loveth then where it liveth. For she is in the beloved according to her own nature, and as she hath an existence belonging to herself, that is, by her will & understanding; whereas her giving life to a body is an action of much lower degree, and only as she is the form and part of a whole; in which consideration she hath no prerogative above the forms of bruit beasts. We may therefore conclude, that to draw us from outward and sensible objects into ourselves, and from thence to carry us to our saviour Jesus Christ; and in him to unite us to his divinity; there is no other way, no other means then the love of him, and the ardent desire of his sweetness that through his humanity we may feel, and perceive, and taste the presence of his divinity. So great is the power of love, that it is able to raise the soul from the earth to the highest heaven. Nor is it possible for any person to arrive to Beatitude, but by the wings of love and desire. Love is the life of the soul, her wedding garment, and her perfection: In which is comprised the Law and the Prophets, and the whole doctrine of our Saviour. And therefore the Apostle saith to the Romans, that love is the fullness of the law: Rom. 3. and to Timothy, that charity is the end of all that is commanded. 1. Tim. 1.   

CHAP. XIII. Of the quality and utility of prayer: and how one's heart is to be recollected within itself.  
BUt since, we are not able of ourselves, either to love, or to do any other good work, nor can of our own stock offer any thing to God (from whom alone floweth all that is good) that is not already his: the only thing which remaineth for us to do, is, that according to the instructions which he hath vouchsafed to give us by his own divine mouth and blessed example, we have recourse to him by prayer in all our occurrences; and that we prostrate ourselves before him, like poor needy beggars, like wretched miserable bondslaves, like feeble desolate children; and so with deep groans lay open our hearts before him, representing our distressed condition with all ingenuity & sincerity, with fear and shame; yet mingled with confidence and love; and beseeching him with the utmost vehemence and fervour of our soul, to protect and assist us in our imminent dangers; and in the close admitting and abandoning ourselves entirely and securely into his hands, without reserving any thing at all to ourselves; but acknowledging whatsoever we have, or are, to be absolutely his. And then, that will be fulfilled in us, which the holy abbot Isaac (speaking of his manner of prayer) saith in the following words: 
Cassian. Collect. 10. Chap. 6.  Then we shall be one in God, and our Lord, and only he will be all in all to us; when that perfect love of his with which he loved us first, shall likewise on our side have passed and be converted into the affection of our heart. Which will be when all our love, all our desire, all our study, all our endeavour, all that we shall think, imagine, speak and hope will be God alone; and that a like unity as is between the father and the son, and again between the son and the father, shall be transfused into our soul and mind: that as he loveth us, with a sincere, pure, and indissolvable charity, so we may be joined also to him by a perpetual and inseparable dilection; whereby thus linked unto him, all that we shall desire and hope for, that we shall understand, that we shall speak of, and that we shall direct our prayers unto, may be God only. This therefore ought to be the intention, the aim, and the end of a spiritual man, that he may come to possess herein his corruptible body, an image of the next life's beatitude; and that he may begin in this world, to receive a kind of earnest penny, and taste some drops of that beatitude, conversation, and glory, which we shall have in heaven. This I say is the end of all perfection; that our soul being purified from all carnal dross; it may daily be refined and sublimed up to spiritual objects, until our conversation, and all the motions and affections of our heart do become one continued prayer. And when our soul, free from all earthly alloy, 
Cass. Col. 9 cap. 5.  shall thus breathe and pant after God only (on whom alone the intention of a spiritual man ought to be fixed, and so such an one, the least separation from him will seem a present and cruel death,) and shall be in a manner sent beforehand to him, by enjoying so high a calm from all carnal passions (which might inveigle and draw it to their objects) that it may firmly and indissolubly adhere to that one supreme good; then the direction of the Apostle will be fulfilled, who biddeth us pray without intermission; 1. Thes. 5. and in another place, lifting up pure hands every where without anger and contention. 1. Tim. 2. For where the operation of the mind is absorbed (if so I may say) with such purity, and is transformed from a terrene and gross nature, to a spiritual and Angelical shape; than whatsoever she shall receive into herself, whatsoever she shall employ herself about; and whatsoever she shall do, will be a most pure and a most sincere prayer. To conclude, if you shall continue, without interruption, that course I have traced from the beginning of this discourse, it will be as easy and ready for you in your introversion and recollection, to contemplate and to enjoy God, as in nature it is to live.   

CHAP. XIIII. That in all judgements, we ought to resort to the witness of our conscience.  
IT is of no small avail, for attaining spiritual perfection, and the purity and tranquillity of the soul in God; that upon whatsoever shall be spoken, thought or done concerning us, we presently recurre in silence to the inward secret of our heart and mind; and there sequestered from all other objects, and wholly recollected within ourselves, we call ourselves to a strict account, for discovery of the bare truth of what we make our inquiry about. And there we shall find that it will be no advantage for us, but rather much prejudice, to be praised and honoured from without, if in the mean time our heart within us reproacheth us of faultiness and guilt. And as it profiteth one nothing to be praised by men, whiles his own conscience accuseth him: so on the other side, he is never the worse for being contemned, reproached, and persecuted, whiles in the tribunal of his own heart he findeth himself innocent and irreprehensible: Or rather, upon such occasions, he hath reason to rejoice in our Lord with patience, silence, and tranquillity. For no adversity can hurt him in whom iniquity reigneth not. And since it is a certain truth, that as no evil remaineth unpunished, so no good passeth without reward; let us beware of expecting or receiving ours like hypocrites, from men: but refer that wholly and solely to God, to give it us, not in this life, but in Eternity that lasteth for ever. It is then evident, that no action we can do, can be nobler or better, than always, in all our tribulations, and accidents whatsoever, to resort into the secret of our own soul; and there invocate our Lord Jesus Christ, our helper in our temptations and tribulations; and humble ourselves through acknowledgement of our own sinfulness; and praise God our Father, that correcteth and comforteth when he judgeth fit. And let us be sure to receive all things, either concerning ourselves or others, prosperous or adverse, with equanimity, and with a ready and confident resignation of ourselves into the hand of his infallible and Fatherly providence. And by doing thus, we shall obtain the remission of our sins, the delivering us from all bitterness, the contemning of sweetness and security upon us, the infusion of grace and mercy into us, the settling and strengthening us in the familiarity of God, our sucking abundant consolations from him, and our firm adhesion and union with him. Let us therefore beware of imitating those, who through hypocrisy, and after a Pharisaical manner, do strive to appear better, and otherwise then they are; and do labour to give men a better conceit of themselves then in their own hearts they know they deserve; and do hunt after outward humane praise and glory, whiles their souls within are full of impotent passions and desires, and grievous sins. Certainly whosoever shall seek after such vanities, which is the extremity of folly and madness, the real good we have formerly mentioned will fly from him; and reproach and shame will in the end betid him. Keep therefore continually before thine eyes the bad that is in thee, and thy unaptness to all good. Know thyself aright, that thou mayest be humbled. And considering thy great sins, and the excessive evils that are in thee, repine not at being esteemed the most unworthy, vile, and abject creature in the world: but repute thyself among other men, like dross mingled with gold, like darnel growing among wheat, like chaff mingled with corn, like a wolf among sheep, and like satan among the children of God; and shun all honour or preference from others, fly with all might and main from the infection of this pestilence, from the poison of praise, and from the vanity of ostentation; lest according to the royal Prophet, the sinner be praised in the desires of his own soul. Ps. 9 For according to the other, They who speak thee blessed, do deceive thee, and do destroy the way of thy steps. Isay. 3. And our Saviour threateneth us with woe, when men shall bless us, and speak well of us.   

CHAP. XV. How the contempt of ones self may be caused in a man, and how profitable that is.  
IT is most certain that the better a man is acquainted with his own unworthiness, and baseness, and the deeper conceit he frameth thereof; the further and the clearer he looketh into the Majesty of God; and the meaner a man appeareth in his own eyes through the value he putteth upon God, upon truth, and upon justice; the more worthy and precious he is in the eyes of God. Let us therefore continually busy our thoughts upon those considerations that may beget in us a contempt of ourselves, and a belief that we are unworthy of receiving any good turn. Let us mortify and displease ourselves, and seek to please God only. And let us be content to be reputed (as we are) most unworthy and vile wretches. When any tribulations, afflictions, or injuries do come upon us, let us not be moved at them, nor entertain any unquiet thoughts, or indignation, or animosity against those that bring them upon us: but with meekness and gentleness of spirit, let us conclude within ourselves, that we deserve all the injuries, scorns and mischiefs, with abandonments that can arrive unto us. For certainly he who is truly penitent, and whose heart is full of compunctions, abhorreth being honoured and loved by men, and is content to be hated, despised, and trodden upon, to the very last; that so he may attain to true humility, and to a sincere, firm adhesion unto God alone, with a pure heart. Which adhesion to God only, and loving of him only, together with the hating of ourselves, and thinking worse of ones self then of all creatures else, and the deeming himself despisable, and desiring to be despised and scorned by all men else, requireth no outward labour, or strength of body; but rather, the solitude and retirement of the body, whilst the heart laboureth by affections, and the mind is quiet from all worldly affairs: to the end that setting your heart upon the right object, and banishing the distracting multiplicity of creatures out of our mind, and ritiring our senses from all conversation with mean intertainments; our soul may then raise itself up to a familiarity with heavenly and divine things, whiles our body is sequestered by solitude from earthly ones. By doing thus, we shall change ourselves after a sort into God. To attain unto the perfection of this State, we must be always upon our guard to pass no judgement or censure upon our neighbour, much less to contemn or despise him. And we must heartily desire to be accounted by all men as the dross of the earth, and the reproach of human nature, and to be abhorred by them like dirt and noisomeness, rather than to abound with any delights whatsoever, or to be honoured or advanced by men, or to enjoy any corporeal satisfaction, or transitory conveniency. And we must wish for no more of the advantages, or continuance of this life, then merely what is necessary for us to bewail and lament without intermission our transgressions and sins, and to grow up daily in the disestimation, contempt, hatred, and annihilation of ourselves in our own eyes; that so we may become more pleasing in Gods. And lastly we must have no regard or solicitude for any thing in the world besides God alone, but settle all our love and affections upon him, and cleave inseparably to him, and have no object in our hearts, but our lord and saviour Jesus Christ; by whose power all things subsist, and by whose providence all things are governed. The consolations of this life are the most dangerous enemies, that can be encountered with to hinder one in such a happy course. Remember then that this is not a place for you to receive delights or contentments in; but to weep and lament in from the bottom of your heart. If then your soul be so dry that you cannot weep, the very consideration of that, will afford you abundant matter of tears. But if you do weep, you will have reason to increase your lamentation, by considering that through your grievous offences and sins, you have drawn upon your own head this doleful cause of sorrow; which whiles it lieth so heavy upon you, what madness were it in you to let your thoughts range astray after any other affaìre that you are not concerned in? The delinquent at the bar, that standeth there pleading for his life, and feareth the sentence of condemnation, from a severe judge, little regardeth what is done abroad in the market place, or how the sheriff marshalleth and disposeth his guards for the security of the prisoners. So he that hath considered rightly the condition that his soul is in; and upon that consideration entertaineth such a deep sorrow as belongeth to him; will have no relish of any of the delights of this world, nor will his heart afford any room for anger, vainglory, indignation, or any other passion whatsoever to harbour in it. And if at any time you chance to cast your eyes upon the contented and cheerful state of other happy persons, that swim in the delights of pure love, which banisheth all sorrow; do not presently flatter yourself that it belongeth also to you, who are composed of like parts as they, to have a mansion among them. For as there are prisons and dungeons for malefactors, whiles the well disposed citizens live at ease in their own houses; so there are different exercises and forms of living for those whose past sins oblige them to penance and mourning, & for those that have preserved themselves with greater purity and innocence. Otherwise, these latter would have no advantage of the former; and injustice would have more freedom than innocence. We may then conclude, that we must abandon all creatures; we must despise them all; and we must repudiate and fly from all the delights of this world; that so with entire faith, we may lay a solid foundation of repentance and mourning. And if once we attain to love Jesus Christ in truth, and to sigh after him from the bottom of our hearts, and to bear him continually there, & to conform all our actions to the example he hath given us; and to have a real grief for our sins, and to have a lively apprehension of the next world, & to have the consideration of the last judgement, and of the eternal torments of hell, all ways before our eyes; and to be continually apprehensive and solicitous of the state we shall be in when we leave this world; we shall then most assuredly be delivered from all affections to created things, and be concerned with nothing that is of a fleeting and transitory nature: and we shall arrive to such an impassibillity, as not only to be contented with pressures and encroachments upon us, and with injuries done us; but even to be afflicted, and so think that day lost wherein we receive not some scorn, or malediction, or ill entreatment for God's sake. The perfection of which impassibillity consisteth, in being free from all vices and passions, and in having a pure and clean heart; and in having our soul adorned and replenished with virtues. Which to attain unto, it will much avail us, to believe ourselves already out of the world; and since we are sure that one day we must necessarily die; let us make account we are already dead. But because through the frailty of our nature, and the cunning and malice of our enemy (who endeavoreth to slide into our best actions, and so corrupt them) these inferior and abstracted exercises may be liable to miscarriage, as all humane actions are, let this be the touchstone to try all our thoughts, words, and deeds by; whether they be according to God or no: namely, whether we become more humble, more disaffected with the world, more recollected within ourselves, and more attentive and strong in the pursuit of God. For if we should find it otherwise with us, we might with reason suspect that what we did, were not according to God; nor pleasing to him, nor profitable to ourselves.   

CHAP. XVI. How the Providence of God extendeth it self to all things.  
NOw to the end that according to what we have have hitherto discoursed, we may without any disturbance, readily, securely, and calmly be raised up to God Almighty, and be immediately joined and united to him, and cleave inseparably to him with a perfect quietness, evenness, and untroublednesse of mind, aswell in adversity as in prosperity, in death as in life: we must resign ourselves entirely, and commit all things confidently to his never erring, and never shaken providence. In doing which we can have no difficulty or reluctance, when we call to mind how it is he, and only he who giveth unto all creatures their being what they are, who endoweth them with their individual virtues, powers and faculties; who enableth them to work and perform all the operations that their nature can reach unto; and who doth so wonderfully order and range their infinite variety with exact proportion of number, weight and measure, that like a music of so many parts, they compose the admirable harmony and beauty of the created world. If you consider the plants of nature, you will find them seated between two understanding agents; the one giving them their essential being, the other working in them such modifications, and changes, as may be introduced into them by art. This latter is the share of the sons of Adam; who how admirable soever they be in the rare productions of their Dedalean wits; yet they must sit still, and their Art must remain buried in them, if bounteous nature did not furnish them with materials and subjects to work upon. In the same manner Nature herself would fall to nothing, were it not for a continual emanation of being into every individual plant of hers, from him that is the author of all being. For as art presupposeth the productions of Nature, without which she cannot exercise her skill; so the individuals of nature do presuppose the operation of God almighty; creating, conserving, ordering, and governing them; without which they would presently run into confusion, & into their original nothing. And in the whole course of them, & in the oeconomy of them we may read his infinite power, wisdom, goodness, essential mercy, justice, truth, charity, and unchangeable eternity, and immensity. For nothing can subsist and work by its own virtue and power; it oweth that entirely to God, and to him only, as being the first mover, the original principal, and the Cause of all action in every agent whatsoever. He provideth immediately for every thing, & cutteth out their shares, even to the least & inconsiderablest creature he hath made. From the highest to the lowest, none of them escapeth his providence, or swarveth from the line he hath traced out to them; whether it be in the ordinary course of nature, or in theirs that depend of voluntary and free agents, or in theirs that seem to be hatched out of the casual concurrence of several causes, without any precedent design, in those that immediately produce them. This allseeing and all-governing eye of God's providence, reacheth not only to all that is in nature, but even to all that God himself can do. For since he can do nothing but according to the rules of wisdom, and that a wise agent disposeth all things that are in his power, by order and foresight; it is necessary that all he doth, must fall under the order of his providence. So that it extendeth to all things, and to all actions, even to the reclusest thoughts of man's heart. Therefore Saint Peter hath reason to advise us, to abandon ourselves wholly to his all-sufficient providence; without having any anxiety for what may befall us, when he saith, that we ought to cast all our solicitude upon him, for that he hath care of us. 1 Pet. 1. As also the royal Prophet in these words: Pitch your thoughts upon the Lord, and he will feed you. Ps. 54. And the like you will find in Ecclesiasticus in these words. Look about you children of men, and know that no man ever hoped, and was confounded, nor remained under his commandments, and was forsaken by him. Eccle. 2. And our Lord himself warneth us that we be not solicitous, saying what shall we eat? Matt. 6. Without doubt there is no blessing so great, that we can hope for at God's hands, but we shall receive it of his liberality and mercy; if we rely on him with due confidence, according to his promise: in the Deuteronomy, what place soever your foot shall tread upon shall be yours, Deut. 11. For the measure of a man's receiving, shall be the largeness of his heart in desiring, and his possession shall reach as far as he hath reached out the foot of his confidence; which hath moved Saint Bernard to say, God the creator and disposer of all things aboundeth with the bowels of so great mercy, that how great favour and grace soever we can raise our confidence to beg of him, so great we shall certainly receive at his hands. And therefore our saviour biddeth us in S. Mark, that whatsoever we ask for in our prayers, we should believe that it will be granted us; and the effect will ensue accordingly. And most certainly, the more strong, and the more pressing that our confidence shall be in God; and the more violent assault it shall give him, with humility and reverence, the more securely, the more abundantly, and the more speedily we shall impetrate and obtain what we hoped for. The great impediment of such noble confidence; that keepeth it down from soaring to this high and efficacious pitch, is the weight of sin: Where that aboundeth, a soul is lazy and benumbed, and unable to raise itself up with confidence to God. For redress of this mischief, let him whose heart is in earnest turned from the world, and converted to God, consider the infinite power of God Almighty. Let him remember how all things are possible to him: and what his Will once determineth, must of necessity be crowned with its effect; and that what he gainsayeth, hath an impossibility of ever coming to pass. And therefore it is as easy to him, if he pleaseth to remit and cancel an innumerable multitude of sins, be they never so enormous, as to forgive one single one. And from the least single one a sinner is not of himself able to rise, and deliver himself, no more then from the greatest load of innumerable ones. For of ourselves, we are not able so much as to think, much less to do any good thing, 2 Cor. 3. All that is of that nature, proceedeth from God only; who worketh it in us: and to him only we must refer, and acknowledge it. Therefore our deliverance from sin belonging not to ourselves upon our own score, but being entirely the work of God Almighty his power and mercy; and all things being alike easy to him; we may with confidence commit ourselves into his fatherly arms, and promise ourselves from him a plenary abolition of all our misdemeanours, be they never so many and never so great. Yet let us beware that a wrong application, or a mistaking of this consideration, draw us not into presumption, or into a foolish security. For it is also most certain, that looking upon the condition as the case standeth on his part, it is fare more dangerous for him to be involved in many sins, then to be under the weight of one only sin. For it is an inevitable decree, that no evil action can escape unpunished; and to every mortal sin an infinite punishment is due. If this were not, God's Justice would suffer thereby: since every such sin is an injury in a direct line done to God himself; who is of infinite Dignity, Honour and Reverence. But this is so evident a truth, that I need put no more weight on this side the scale. Whosoever shall look upon his own unworthiness, is out of danger of falling into presumption. He is in greater, of being kept back by pusillanimity, from those blessings that by a virtuous confidence he may obtain. Therefore for his comfort and advantage, let us add to what we have already said, how God (as the Apostle telleth us) hath a certain and infallible knowledge, and keepeth an exact account of those who are his: and that it is impossible for any of these to miscarry. They will be preserved secure in the midst of all difficulties, dangers, scandals, schisms, persecutions, quarrels, heresies, tribulations, adversities, and temptations whatsoever. For God hath foreseen from all eternity the number of his elect; and the last act of their lives, that settleth them in the state of merit; And nothing can change or shake his infallible prevision. All things cooperate to their good, as well the bad as the good, adversity as prosperity, as well what is without them, as what is within them, and dependeth immediately of themselves: with only this difference, peradventure, that out of adversity they come more refined and shine brighter. Let us therefore securely and readily commit ourselves, and all things else to the divine providence; who when it permitteth evil, it is with a design to draw good out of it. And consequently it is good that such evils should be, and that God should permit them. Nor can they be otherwise, or more, then strictly what he alloweth. For his knowledge fadommeth the extent of all things; his power mastereth and limiteth them as he pleaseth; and his will disposeth and turneth them to good. For as all that is good proceedeth from his immediate operation; so those evils that are permitted by him, are turned into good by his goodness and power. Out of which we may gather his omnipotency, his infinite wisdom, his clemency through Jesus Christ our Saviour, and repairer, his mercy and justice, the efficacy of grace, and the disability of nature, together with the beauty of the Universe, resulting out of the comparing and harmony of contrarieties; the chief of which are the virtue and reward of the good, and the wickedness and punishment of the bad. Nor can we look upon the course and oeconomy of Gods converting and saving of a sinner, but with exceeding great comfort and joy. On the sinner's part, the change of his heart, his contrition for having offended God, his confessing of his sins, and his doing penance for them: On God's side, his admirable meekness, his mercy, his charity, and his infinite goodness, are subjects for a man to meditate continually upon, and to praise God everlastingly for. But let him not grow too bold upon God's mercies, for his delivering a sinner by such admirable and secret paths from the misery he was enfoulded in; For such grace is not imparted to all offenders: but the greatest number by fare perisheth (alas) in their dangerous and crooked ways; and as they are deprived of grace in this life, so are they banished from glory in the next, and condemned to eternal punishment and torment. From which Jesus Christ of his mercy preserve us. Amen.  
FINIS.    

A CONFERENCE With a Lady about choice of RELIGION.  
LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman at the Anchor in the New-Exchange. 1654.   

MADAM,  
MY being conscious to myself how confusedly and intricately I have delivered my conceptions unto your Ladyship, upon the several occasions of discourse we have had together, concerning that important subject of what faith and religion is the true one to bring us to eternal happiness (wherein your Ladyship is so wisely and worthily inquisitive and solicitous) hath begotten this following writing; in the which I will, as ne'er as I can, sum up the heads of those considerations I have sometimes discussed unto you in conversation. And I will briefly and barely lay them before you, without any long enlargement upon them; as having a better opinion of the reflections that your Ladyships great understanding and strong reasoning soul will by yourself make upon the naked object sincerely proposed, then of any commentary I can frame upon it. And indeed such discourses as these are deeper looked into, when they are pondered by a prudential judgement, then when they are examined by scientifical speculations.  
But with your leave, I shall take the matter a little higher than where the chief difficulty seemeth to be, at which your Ladyship sticketh; conceiving that if we begin at the root, and proceed on step by step, we shall find our search the easier, and the securer, and our ascent to the conclusions we shall collect, will be the more firm and vigorous.  
We will therefore begin with considering why faith and religion is needful to a man, before we determine the means how to find out the right faith: for that being once settled in the understanding, we shall presently without further dispute reject what religion soever is but proposed, that hath not those proprieties which are required to bring that to pass, that Religion in its own nature aimeth at. And this must be done by taking a survey of some of the operations of a human soul, and of the impressions made in it by the objects it is conversant withal.  
1. Your Ladyship may be pleased then to consider in the first place, That it is by nature engrafted in the souls of all mankind to desire beatitude, (By which word I mean an entire, perfect, and secure fruition of all such objects as one hath vehement affections unto, without mixture of any thing one hath aversion from.) For the soul having a perpetual activity in it, must necessarily have something to entertain itself about: And according to the two chief powers of it (which are the Understanding & the Will) it employeth itself, first in the search and investigation of what is true and good; and then, according to the judgement it maketh of it, the Will followeth, and with affections graspeth at it, which if it happen to seize upon, the soul is at content and at rest; but if it miss, it is unquiet, & laboureth with all vehemence to compass it: and if any thing happen that is repugnant to the nature of it, it useth all industry and efficacious means to overcome and banish it: so that all the actions and motions of it, tend to gain contentment and beatitude.  
2. In the next place you may please to consider, that this full beatitude which the soul thirsteth after, cannot be enjoyed in this life. For it is apparent, that intellectual goods, as science, contemplation and fruition of spiritual objects and contentments, in their own nature are the chief goods of the soul, and affect her much more strongly and violently then corporal and sensual ones can do: for they are more agreeable to her nature, and therefore move her more efficaciously when they are duly relished. But such intellectual goods cannot be perfectly relished and enjoyed, as long as the soul is immersed in the body, by reason that the sensual appetite maketh continual war against the rational part of the soul; and in most men mastereth it, and in the perfectest, this earthly habitation doth so draw down and clog, and benumb the noble inhabitant of it (which would always busy itself in sublime contemplations) as it may be said to be but in a jail whiles it resideth here. And experience confirmeth unto us, that the sparks of knowledge we gain here are not pure, but have the nature of salt water, that increaseth the thirst in them who drink most of it; and we swallow the purest streams like men in a dropsy, who the more they drink are still the greedier of more. Therefore to have this greediness of knowing satisfied, and to exercise the powers of our soul in the pure and abstracted contemplation of truth, and in the sincere fruition of spiritual objects, we must have patience until she arrive unto an other state of life, wherein being separated from all corporal feces, impediments, and contradictions, she may wholly give herself up to that which is her natural operation, and from whence resulteth her true and perfect delight. Besides, even they who have attained to the greatest blessings (both inward and outward) that this world can afford, yet are far from being completely happy; for that state admitteth no mixture of the contrary: which who was ever yet free from, were his fortune never so specious? The very fear of losing them, that must always necessarily accompany those blessings, is such a spoonful of gall to make their whole draught bitter, as that alone must needs take off the edge and vigour of the contentment that else they might enjoy. How little can any man relish the objects of delight, which with never so great affluence, beset him round about, when he knoweth a sharp and heavy sword hangeth by a slender thread over his head, and at length must fall, and ever after sever him from them? A little distemper, an accidental fever, an ill mingled draught (such a one as the miracle of wit and learning, Lucretius, met withal) is enough to turn the brains of the wisest man that is, and in a few hours to blot out all those notions he hath been in all his life labouring to possess himself of, and to render him of a more abject, and despicable condition than the meanest wretch living that hath but the common use of reason. The Genius that presideth over human affairs, delighteth in perpetual changes, and variation of men's fortunes, so that he who late sat enthroned in greatest dignity, is all of a sudden precipitated headlong unto a condition most opposite thereunto: he that but yesterday had all his joys enlarged, and swollen up to their full height by the communication of a perfect and entire friend (without which can there be any true joy?) hath to day lost the comfort of all that the world can afford him by the irrecoverable loss of that one friend. In a word, death growing daily upon him, and encroaching upon his outworks, and by hours reducing him into a narrower circle, at length seizeth upon himself, and maketh an eternal divorce between him, and what was dearest to him here.  
3. Our next consideration than shall be to discover what will result out of our swift passage through this vale of miseries, and what impressions we shall carry with us out of this pilgrimage; since we cannot suspect it is a journey assigned us in vain, being the ordinary and natural course prescribed by the wise author of nature to all mankind, and the inevitable thoroughfare for every man in particular. Therefore to proceed on in this method, our third conclusion shall be, that whatsoever judgement the soul once frameth in this life, that judgement and that affection will perpetually remain in the soul, unless some contrary impression be made in it to blot it out; which only hath power to expel any former one. For judgements and affections are caused in a man by the impression that the objects make in his soul: and all that any agent aimeth at in any operation whatsoever (be it never so forcible in action) is but to produce a resemblance of itself in the subject it worketh upon; and therefore it excludeth nothing that it findeth formerly there (which in our case is the soul) unless it be some such impression as is incompatible with what it intendeth to effect there; or that the subject is not large enough, both to retain the old and receive the new; in which case the first must be blotted out to make room for the latter. But of judgements, and affections, none are incompatible to one another, but those that are directly opposite to one another by contradiction: Therefore only such have power to expel one another; and all that are not such, are immediately united to the very substance of the soul, which having an infinite capacity, it can never be filled by any limited objects whatsoever: so that they always reside in the soul, although they do not at all times appear in outward act; which proceedeth from hence, that new and other images are by the fantasy represented to the soul, and she seemeth to busy herself only about what she findeth there, which being but one distinct Image at a time (for corporal organs have limited comprehensions, and are quickly filled with corporal species) she thereupon seemeth to exercise but one judgement, or but one affection at a time. But as soon as the soul shall be released out of the body (which is like a dark prison to wall it in) than she will at one and the same instant actually know and love all those things she knew, and loved in the body; with only this difference, that her knowledge will then be much more distinct and perfect, and her affections much more vehement than they were in this life, by reason that her conjunction here with resistant matter was a burden, and a clog unto her, and hindered the activity and force of her operations. The difference of these states, may in some measure be illustrated by a gross and material example: Represent unto yourself a man walled up in a dark tower, that is so close, as no air nor light can come into it, excepting only at one little hole, and that hole too affordeth no clear and free passage to the sight, but hath a thick and muddy glass before it. Now if this man would look upon any of the objects that are about this tower, he must get them to be placed over against the hole, unto which he must lay his eye; and then, he can discern but one at a time, and that but dimly neither; and if he will see several bodies, it must be by so many several iterated acts as they are in number. But suppose some Earthquake or exterior violence to break a sunder and throw down to the ground the walls of this tower, leaving the man untouched and unhurt; then at one instant, and with one cast of his eyes, he beholdeth distinctly, clearly, and at ease, all those several objects that with so much labour and time he took but a mistaking survey of before.  
4. The fourth consideration shall be, that after the first instant wherein the soul is separated from the body, she is then in her nature no longer subject or liable to any new impression, mutation or change whatsoever. For that which should cause any such effect, must be either a material or a spiritual agent: But a material one cannot work upon it, for that requireth quantity in the patiented, whereby it may be applied unto it to exercise its operation upon it: Nor can any spiritual agent cause any succession of new alteration; But all that spirits work one upon another is done at once and at one instant: which we shall discern the clearer by examining the reason why there is succession and time taken up in the alterations that are wrought amongst material things, for in them, by reason of their quantity that causeth an extension and distance of the parts, the agent, although it have never so much disposition and efficacy to work, must have his several parts applied to I the several parts of the patiented by local motion; which requireth time for performance thereof. And besides, even in the agent itself, the grossness and heaviness of the matter giveth an allay, and is a clog to the activity of the form; and as it were pulleth it back whiles it is in action. But this is not so in spiritual substances, and therefore we may conclude that among them, in the same instant that the agent is disposed to work, the action is performed, for on his part there is nothing to retard it, nor is there required any local motion which should take up time; and likewise by the same reason, in the very instant that the patiented is disposed to receive any impression, it is wrought in it: And thus, although there were never so many agents, and every one of them to perform never so many actions, they would be all done, and ended in one and the same instant.  
5. The next consideration shall be, that those persons who in this world had strong and predominant affections to sensible and material objects; and died in that state, shall be eternally miserable in the next; for by what we have said, it appearth that those affections will eternally remain in the soul; and that after the separation of it from the body, they can never be blotted out of it, or changed; And the affections of a separated soul are much more ardent and vehement then whiles it is in the body. But it is impossible they should ever attain in that state to the fruition of what they so violently covet and love, and yet for its sake they neglect all other goods whatsoever that they might have, whose beauty and excellency notwithstanding they plainly discern: they cannot choose therefore but execrate themselves for their fond misplaced (yet then eternally necessary) affections, and pine away (if so I may say) with perpetual anguish and despair of what they so impatiently, and enragedly desire, and never can obtain.  
6. The sixth consideration shall be, that to be happy in the next life, one must not settle their predominant affections upon any creature whatsoever, or any good that we can naturally attain to the knowledge of in this life. For what natural good soever we love or enjoy here, we must by death be divorced from, and (as we have said before) that separation will cause perpetual sorrow, because the affections remain unchangeable. And although we should place our felicity in natural knowledge, or any other intellectual good whatsoever, yet that cannot satisfy the desires, and fill the capacity of the soul, though it be never so perfectly enjoyed: for they are infinite; and this can be collected but out of particular objects (for the whole created universe is but so) and therefore they hold no proportion together; but the soul having nothing else to fill it withal, although it should not be tormented with the former mentioned corrosives of preposterous affections, yet it cannot be at rest and quiet, and the thirst of it satisfied by that drop of water, in comparison of the vehement ardour of it.  
And thus it followeth, that either man was not created for a determinate end, and for a state convenient for his nature, and able to satisfy the original appetences of his soul; or at the least, no man can by natural means arrive to the end and period of happiness.  
7. But now to proceed in the pursuance of this method of reasoning, and to follow hence forward the conduct of a supernatural guide, since nature quitteth us here, having lead us on as long as she was able to see; we may in the seaventh place consider that God when he created man did not assign him to remain in the state of pure nature, but did out of his goodness and liberality confer something upon him that exceeded the sphere of his nature. For else the first part of the precedent consequence would follow; which were not only impious, but absurd to say, to whosoever considereth the infinite goodness, wisdom and omnipotency of God. For as heat being essential to fire, cannot but produce heat in whatsoever it hath application unto; so God being in his own essence goodness itself, cannot choose but do unto whatsoever proceedeth from him, all that good which the nature of it is capable of; (whether by natural or supernatural means) and his wisdom can readily contrive the means to bring that to pass which his goodness disposeth him to do; and his omnipotency as easily acteth what his other two atributes have projected; so that there wanting an infinite object to satisfy the infinite capacity of the soul, and without which she must be eternally misefable; it remaineth, that he who gave that capacity, must also afford the object, & assign means how to compass & gain it. All which we have already proved is out of the reach of nature to discern: and therefore it followeth of consequence, that the author of nature must endow man with some supernatural gifts, if he be in a fit disposition to receive them, which may bring him to the supernatural end he was created for.  
8. Our eighth conclusion shall be that of these supernatural gifts, the first, and the ground and foundation of all the rest, is faith. For we have already determined, that we cannot by any natural means attain to the knowledge of any object that may render us completely happy in the next life; And yet such knowledge must be had, to the end we may direct our actions to gain the fruition of that object Therefore there is no way left to compass this, but by the instructions and discipline of some Master, whose goodness and knowledge we can no ways doubt of; by which two perfections in him, we may be secure that he neither can be deceived himself, nor will deceive us. Now the Doctrine that such a Master shall teach us for such an end, we call faith.  
9 In the ninth place we must determine that this Master must be God and man. For first by our discourse upon natural principles, we have proved, that to avoid misery in the next life, we must deny our senses the content and satisfaction that they naturally desire in corporeal things, and that we must withdraw our affections from all material objects: And next we have collected that the object we must know and love, to be happy, doth exceed the reach and view of any created understanding to discern: Therefore we may safely conclude that this doctrine ought to be delivered unto us originally by God himself. For after the first branch, which is of withdrawing our affections from sensible goods; although out of natural principles that doctrine is to be collected, yet that is not a sufficient means to settle mankind in general, in the belief of it: For the discourse that proveth it, is such an abstracted one, as very few are capable of it, being that it requireth both a mature age to be able to reason so (before which time many dye) and likewise strong and vigorous powers of the understanding, which we see more do want, then are endowed withal: And besides, of those that have both years and capacity to wield such thoughts, there are so few that are not in a manner forced away from such interior recollections by their particular vocations, and the natural necessities they are obliged unto; as to beat it out by themselves is not a sufficient means to serve mankind in this case. And to think that those few, who having great parts, may with much labour have attained to the knowledge thereof, should instruct others that are simpler, and are taken up by other employments and courses of life, were very irrational; since no man, be he never so wise, is such but may be deceived; and then, how can it be expected that another man should without sensible demonstration believe his single word in a matter so contrary to sense, and wherein he must forgo so great contentments and present utility?  
And for the other branch, which is in the instructing mankind concerning the right object that he is to know, and love, to be happy, that is altogether out of the reach of any man whatsoever by himself to discover; and therefore much less can he in his own name instruct others therein: And if any man should go about to do so, and to introduce a new doctrine of faith not formerly heard of, drawing the arguments for confirmation thereof only out of his own ratiocination and discourse; that alone were enough to convince him of falsehood; since he should thereby undertake to know what were impossible for him of himself to attain to the knowledge of.  
Therefore it is necessary that the author of the doctrine we must believe, the instructor of the actions we must perform, and the promiser of the happiness we may hope for, be God himself; who only knoweth of himself what is said in matters of these natures, & who only is neither liable to be deceived, nor can deceive others; as being the prime verity itself.  
But because the weakness of our intellectual nature is such, whiles we remain here in our earthly habitations, imprisonned in our houses of clay, as we cannot lift up our heavy and drowsy eyes, and steadily fix our dim fight upon the dazzling and indeed invisible Deity, nor entertain an immediate communication with him (like the children of Israel, who desired that Moses, not God might speak unto them) it was necessary that God himself should descend to some corporal substance that might be more familiar and less dazzling unto us; And none was so convenient as humane nature, to the end that he might not only converse freely and familiarly with us, and so in a gentle and a sweet manner teach us what we should do; but also preach unto us by his example, and himself be our leader in the way that he instructed us to take. The conclusion then of this discourse, is, that it was necessary, Christ, God and man, should come into the world to teach us what to believe and what to do.  
10. The tenth conclusion shall be, that those unto whom Christ did immediately preach this faith, and unto whom he gave commission to preach it unto others, and spread it through the world, after he ascended to heaven; aught to be believed as firmly as he himself. The reason of this assertion is, that their doctrine, though it be delivered by secondary mouths, yet it proceedeth from the same fountain: which is God himself, that is the prime verity, and cannot deceive, nor be deceived. But all the difficulty herein is, to know who had this immediate commission from Christ, & by what seal we should discern it to have been not forged one. The solution of this ariseth out of the same argument which proveth that Christ himself was God, and that the doctrine he taught was true and divine; which is, the miracles and wonders he did, exceeding the power of nature, and that could be effected by none but by God himself: for he being truth itself, cannot by any action immediately proceeding from him, witness and confirm a falsehood: In like manner the Apostles doing such admirable works and miracles as neither by nature nor by art magic could be brought to pass, that must necessarily infer God himself cooperated with them to justify what they said; it is evident that their doctrine (which was not their own, but received from Christ) must be true and Divine.  
11. The eleventh conclusion shall be, that this faith thus taught by Christ, and propagated by the Apostles, and necessary to mankind to believe (as well that part of it which is written, as the whole which is not) dependeth intrinsically upon the testimony of the Catholic Church; which is ordained to conserve and deliver it from age to age: (By which Catholic Church, I mean the congregation of the faithful that is spread throughout the whole world) for we have proved before, that the way to the true faith ought to be open and plain to all men, of all abilities, and in all ages, that have a desire to embrace it: and this cannot be but either by the immediate preaching of Christ; or else by the information (either in writing, or by word of mouth) of them that learned it from him, and their delivering it over to others, and so from hand to hand until any particular time you will pitch upon. But from Christ's own mouth, none could have it, but those who lived in the age when he did: therefore there remaineth no other men's to have it derived down to after ages, then by this delivery over from hand to hand of the whole congregation of fathers or elders dispersed throughout the world, to the whole congregation of sons or youngers; which course of deducing faith from Christ we call tradition; so that this conclusion, proveth that the Church is the conserver both of the whole doctrine of faith necessary for salvation, and likewise of the divine writ dictated by the Holy Ghost, and written by the Prophets, Evangelists and Apostles, which we are also bound to believe. And the same assent that we are to give to the truth of Scriptures (that is to say, that the Scriptures we have are true Scriptures) the very same we are to give to other articles of faith proposed unto us by the Church: for they alike depend of the same authority; which is the veracity of the Church proposing and delivering them unto us to be believed. And we may as well doubt that the Church hath corrupted the Scriptures, as that she hath corrupted any article of faith.  
12. The twelfth conclusion shall be, that into the Catholic Church no false doctrine in any age can be admitted or creep in, that is to say, no false proposition whatsoever can ever be received and embraced by the Catholic Church as a proposition of faith. For whatsoever the Church believeth as a proposition of faith, is upon this ground, that Christ taught it as such unto the Church he planted himself, and so left it in trust to be by it delivered over to the next age. And the reason why the present Church believeth any proposition to be of faith, is, because the immediate preceding Church of the age before, delivered it as such. And so you may drive it on from age to age until you come to the Apostles and Christ. Therefore to have any false proposition of faith admitted into the Church in any age, doth Suppose that all they of that age must unanimously conspire to deceive their children and youngers, telling them that they were taught by their fathers to believe, as of faith, some proposition which indeed they were not. Which being impossible (as it will evidently appear to any prudent person that shall reasonably ponder the matter) that so many men spread throughout the whole world, so different in their particular interests and ends, and of such various dispositions and natures, should all agree together in the forgery of any precise lie; it is impossible that any false doctrine should creep into the Church.  
But because the force of this argument may peradventure not appear at the first sight to your Ladyship, that happily hath not had much occasion to make deep reflection upon the certainty that must needs be in the asseveration of any history of matter of fact, subject to the sense, which shall be made by a great company of men so distant from one another, and of such different interests and affections as they cannot conspire together in the forgery of a falsehood; But that you may happily think, since any one man is liable to be deceived, or out of some indirect end may be induced to deceive another, it is also possible that a multitude of men (be it never so great) consisting of particular men, may also deceive or be deceived: I will therefore for a further declaration of this matter, propose for the thirteenth Conclusion, that faith thus delivered, is absolutely more certain and infallible than any natural science whatsoever. And yet sciences are so certain (I mean such as depend of experience and demonstration) as he were not a rational man that should refuse his assent unto them: And consequently he would incur the like censure that should not yield credence to faith, in this manner proposed unto him. In the proof of this conclusion I must use two words appropriated to philosophy (to wit matter and form) which is contrary to my intention at the first, which was to abstain from all terms of artificial learning, and make only a familiar discourse that should require no precedent help of study, but only a clear and strong judgement (such as yours is) to weigh the strength of the reasons: But I am the less scrupulous to avoid these words, because I know your Ladyship understandeth what is meaned by them; and they have often occurred in our discourses. To come then to the examination of this conclusion, I say, that faith dependeth on these two propositions; first, that whatsoever God saith is true; Next, that God said this (whatsoever it be) that is delivered thus by the tradition of the Church. For the former of these assertions, there is no doubt made by any side; since all agree that God being the prime verity, whatsoever proceedeth immediately from him must necessarily be more infallible than any collections made from creatures either by experience or ratiocination of men.  
The second assertion I shall also prove to be more infallible than any such collections; in this manner. Among material things, that are subject to time and place, and are here in the sphere of contraries, and of action and passion, although the laws that govern them are in the general certain (else no science could be acquired of them) yet in the particular they are subject to contingency and defection from those laws; which contingency doth proceed from the resistance of the matter, and the contagion and leprosy (if so I may say) that the matter infecteth the form withal; which were it not for that, would always constantly work the same effect in all occasions: and according as the form hath in particular more or less predominance over the matter, the contingency and defect in them from the true nature of that body considered in his perfection, is the greater or the lesser. Let us illustrate this by an example: According to the ordinary doctrine of Philosophers in the Schools, we collect by many particular experiences, that the nature of fire proceeding from the form of it, is to ascend; and of them we frame a general doctrine, that fire is the lightest of all the elements, and that his natural place is above them all: yet we see that when the form of fire is introduced into gross and terrestrial matter, it is wrested from his own natural inclination, and is forced, instead of ascending, then to descend; as when wood, iron, earth, coal, and such other terrestrial matter is set on fire: And it is more or less violented from his natural place, according as the subject it resideth in, hath more or less power over it, and is more or less material: for it showeth more of his levity and natural propension to ascend, when it setteth an oily, or eyrie substance on fire, and breaketh up in flames, than when meeting with a more material & terrestrial substance, as wood, it turneth it into a coal. Now to apply this to our purpose, I say, that of all forms whatsoever that are joined to matter, the noblest and most elevated above the feculency of matter, is the soul of man: for it is not only the form of the noblest material creature that is; but besides that, it is so full of efficacy as it even overfloweth the capacity of matter, which not being able to imbibe (as I may say) and take it up all, it hath a particular subsistence belonging to its self; from whence Philosophers prove the immortality of it. Therefore we may safely conclude that mankind, in the original appetences and natural desires of his soul, is less subject to contingency, and more secure from having his nature corrupted and perverted from his due course, than any other material creature whatsoever is in the performance of those actions that proceed from the activity of his form; and so consequently, being considered in general, proceedeth most certainly and infallibly to the pursuance thereof; and it is impossible it should fall off from its own nature, and suffer that to be extinguished in it; although in some particulars, by the immersion in matter, and the terrene habitation it dwelleth in, some soul may be drawn, or rather wrested to a contrary bias unto that which originally nature implanted in it. Now the primary original natural appetence of man's soul, is the love of truth; which it vehemently desireth, and is always unquiet and ardent in the search of it upon what occasion soever, and is never appeased and at ease, until she have found it out; which she no sooner hath done, but the violence she was in is calmed; she is contented, and she settleth herself to repose, as having arrived to her centre and natural place of rest; wherein she continueth enjoying the purchase she hath made, until some new occasion of disquisition stir her up again; in which she useth the same industry and eagerness as before. And thus we plainly see that the acquisition of truth is that which the soul in every action naturlaly aimeth at, as fire doth to ascend; & detesteth falsehood, as flames suffer violence to be reverberated downwards. Therefore, although any particular man may have his senses or fantasy so depraved as to take imperfect and maimed impressions of outward objects; or the powers of his understanding so weak as to make preposterous and disorderly collections out of them; or his judgement so misguided by preoccupation of any affection or particular end, as he may in himself be deceived, and feed his soul with falsehood instead of truth; or else, that finister respects and interests, or sordid apprehensions of commodity to himself, meeting with a soul so disposed and wrought upon by the sensual passions tyrannising over it, as to cause him to swallow those bayter, may make him employ the faculties of his understanding and the powers of his soul, contrary unto their natural inclination, to the maintaining of a lie, and industriously to deceive others: yet it is impossible that all mankind, or such a multitude of men as contain in them all the variety of dispositions and affections incident to the nature of man, and that are dispersed throughout the world, so as they can have no communion together whereby they might infect one another, nor can have finister ends common alike to them all, which should invite them to conspire together to forge a falsehood: it is impossible (I say) that such a company of men should so degenerate from their own nature (which is to love truth) as they should of themselves invent a lie (and that in so important a matter as faith is) and concur to deceive the world of men that should come after them in things of such nature, as their deceit must of necessity damn for all eternity both themselves and all them that shall receive that lie from them, and take it upon their credit: without which unanimous conspiracy of one whole age of men throughout all the world, we proved in our last conclusion that no false proposition could be admitted into the Church as an article of faith. In a word, this general defection of all mankind from truth, is more impossible, then that all one entire element, or any primigenial nature should absolutely perish or lose its original propriety; as for all the fire in the world to be corrupted and forsake his heat & levity, & so consequently to have no more fire in nature: all which followeth of what is said above. And thus I conceive I have made good the assertion that hath begotten all this discourse upon the thirteenth head; which is, that faith conserved in the Catholic Church, and delivered by perpetual succession and general tradition, is more certain and more infallible than any natural science whatsoever: for natural sciences being grounded upon the indefectibility of the natures of those things from whence those sciences are collected; and faith depending upon the indefectibility of human nature, which is infinitely more noble than they, and whose form is elevated beyond the reach of matter (whereas theirs is comprehended and shut up within the womb of matter, and which is indeed the end and period of all their natures, and of all the whole material world) it followeth of consequence that faith must be less subject to contingency, and less liable to error then natural sciences are. And they being universal, infallible and certain; faith must be so too; and more, if more may be.  
But this is not enough, our disquisition must not rest here: We must not content ourselves in this divine affair and supernatural doctrine with a certitude depending only upon natural causes. The wisdom of God proportioneth out congruent means to bring on every thing to their proper end; and according to the nobility of the effect that he will have produced, he ordaineth equivalent noble causes. Therefore, man's obtaining beatitude being the highest end that any creature can arrive unto, and altogether supernatural, it requireth supernatural causes to bring us to that end, and a supernatural infallibility to secure us in that journey. We must not only have a supernatural way to travel in (which is faith) but also a supernatural assurance of the right way, unto the discovery of which, all that we have already said, doth necessarily conduce; for God's providence that disposeth all things sweetly, will not in any general affair introduce into the material world any supernatural effect, until the natural causes be first disposed fittingly to cooperate on their parts; and then he never faileth of his. As for example, when a natural creature is to be produced into being, the father and the mother must both concur in contributing all that is in their power, to the generation of a child; and yet we are sure the soul to be produced hath no dependence of them; yet notwithstanding, without their precedentaction no new soul would be: but when the matter is fittingly disposed in the mother's womb, he never misseth creating of a soul in that body; which is not so able an effect, and as much requiring the omnipotency of God, as the creating of nothing all the material world; and yet we may say that the matter when it is arrived to its last disposition for the reception of such a form, may in a manner claim that miraculous action depending of his omnipotency; since for mankind he created the rest of the material world, and therefore there ought to be as certain and necessary causes for the production of man, as there are for the production of other material things, which we see do seldom miss in any when the matter is fitly disposed for the reception of their several forms. And so in like manner we may rationally conclude, that in this high and supernatural business of delivering over from hand to hand a supernatural doctrine to bring mankind to the end it was created for, he will first have all the natural causes fittingly disposed for the secure and infallible performance of that work: and then, that he will add and infuse into them some supernatural gift whereby to give them yet further a supernatural assurance and infallibility; which they may with an humble confidence in his unlimited goodness, expect and claim at his divine hand, when they are reduced to that state as is convenient for the reception of such a supernatural gift.  
14. Our fourteenth conclusion therefore shall be, that God hath given to his Church thus composed, the holy Ghost, to confirm it in the true faith, and to preserve it from error, and to Illuminate the understanding of it in right discerning the true sense of those Mysteries of faith that are committed to the custody of it, and to work supernatural effects of devotion and sanctify in that Church. And this I prove thus; Considering that the doctrine of Christ is practical, and aimeth at the working of an effect, which is the reduction of mankind to beatitude: and that mankind comprehendeth not only those that lived in that age, when he preached, but also all others that ever were since, or shall be till the end of the world: It is apparent that to accomplish that end, it was necessary Christ should so effectually imprint his doctrine in their hearts whom he delivered it unto, as it might upon all occasions and at all times infallibly express itself in action, and in the delivery of it over from hand to hand, should in virtue and strength of the first operation, produce ever after like effects in all others. Now to have this completely performed, it was to be done both by exterior and by interior means, proportionable to the senses without, and to the soul within. The outward means were the miracles that he wrought, of which himself saith, If I had not wrought those works that no man else ever did, they were not guilty of sin, but now, they have no excuse: (or to this purpose) and he promised the Apostles they should do greater than those. And that miracles are the proper instruments to plant a new doctrine and faith withal, the Apostle witnesseth, when he saith that miracles are wrought for the unfaithful, not for the faithful, and God himself told Moses that he would once do some prodigy in his favour, that the people might for ever after believe what he said to them. But it is manifest by the fall of the Apostles themselves, that only this exterior means of miracles is not sufficient to engraft supernatural faith deep enough in men's hearts, when as they upon Christ's Passion, not only for fear, through human frailty denied their master, but had even the very conceit and belief of his doctrine exiled out of their hearts and understanding, notwithstanding all the miracles they had seen him work in almost four years' time they continually conversed with him: which appeareth plainly by the discourse of the Disciples going to Emaus, when they said we hoped &c. and expressed their sadness for the contrary success to their expectation; and by saint Thomas his saying that he would not believe his resurrection unless he saw him, and put his fingers into his wounds etc. And by the rest of the Apostles that were so long before they would believe his resurrection, as having given over the thought of his divinity, and after his death considered him but as a pure man like other men. Therefore it was necessary that some inward light should be given them, so clear, and so strong, and so powerful, as the senses should not be able to prevail against it, but that it should overflowingly possess and fill all their understandings and their souls, and make them break out in exterior actions correspondent to the spirit that steered them within. And the reason is evident: for while: on the one side the senses discern, apparently, miracles wrought in confirmation of a doctrine; and on the other side, the same senses do stiffly contradict the very possibility of the doctrine which those miracles testify; the soul within, having no assistance beyond the natural powers she hath belonging originally unto her, is in great debate and anxiety which way to give her assent; and though reason do prevail to give it to the party of the present miracles, yet it is with great timidity. But if it happen that the course of those miracles be stopped; then the particular seeming impossibilities of the proposed faith remaining always alike lively in their apprehension, and the miracles wrought to confirm it residing but in the memory, and the representations of them wearing out daily more and more, and the present senses and fantasy growing proportionably stronger and stronger, and withal objecting continually new doubts about the reality of those miracles, it cannot be expected otherwise, but that the assent of the soul should range itself on the side of the impossibilities appearing to the present senses, and renounce the doctrine formerly confirmed by miracles, unless some inward and supernatural light be given her to disperse all the mists that the senses raise against the truth of the doctrine. Now the infusion of this light and fervour, we call the giving of the holy Ghost, which Christ himself foreknowing how necessary it was, promised them, assuring them that he would procure his father to send them the holy Ghost, the spirit of truth, that should for ever remain among them, and within them, and suggest unto their memory and instruct them in the right understanding of the faith he had preached unto them. And this was prophesied long before, of the state of the law of grace by Hieremy, whose authority S. Paul bringeth to prove that the law of the Gospel was to be written by the holy Ghost in men's hearts and in their minds, and accordingly, he calleth the faithful of the Corinthians, The faith of Christ, not written with ink, but with the spirit of God; nor graven in stony tables, but in the fleshy ones of their hearts. And in performance of this prophecy & of Christ's promise, the history telleth us that on the tenth day after the ascension of Christ, when all his disciples (who were then all his Church, and were to preach and deliver it to all the world) were assembled together, the holy Ghost was given them, and that in so full a measure, as they not only were confirmed so perfectly in their faith as they never after admitted the least vacillation therein, but they immediately, casting away all other desires and thoughts, were inflamed with admirable love of God, and broke out into his praises, and into a vehement ardour of teaching and converting others; and when by reason of that zeal of theirs, any thing happened to them contrary to flesh and blood, & humane nature (as persecutions, ignominies, corporal punishments, and even death itself) they not only shunned it, as before, but greedily ran to meet and embrace it, and joyed, and gloryed in it: all which were effects of the holy Ghost residing in them, and filling their minds, and governing their souls. Where upon by the way we may note, that in what Church soever we find not a state of life for sanctity and near union with God, and contempt of worldly and transitory things, raised above the pitch of nature and morality, we may conclude the holy Ghost inhabiteth not there: for every agent produceth effects proportionable to the dignity of it, and the excellency of any cause shineth eminently in the nobleness of its effects. Now that this gift of the holy Ghost is to remain with the Church as long as the Church remaineth, to illuminate it with the spirit of truth, and to give it a supernatural and divine unction, will appear manifestly upon consideration of the cause why the holy Ghost was to be given at the first, which remaineth always the same, and therefore the same effect must always follow; and accordingly, Christ promised his Church upon his ascending into heaven, that he would always remain with them until the end of the world, to wit, by this holy spirit; for he was then at the point of withdrawing his corporeal presence from them.  
15. Our next conclusion shall be, that this Church or congregation of men spread over the world, conserving and delivering the faith of Christ from hand to hand, is even in its own nature perpetual in time, and cannot fail as long as mankind remaineth in the world. This needeth no further proof then that which we have already made; which is derived from the necessity of supernatural faith to bring mankind to the end it was created for, and that there is no means to deliver this faith to mankind in the ages after Christ, but by the tradition of the Church; and therefore as long as mankind lasteth, this means must be continued. Yet in this way of reasoning that I use, we are to examine our conclusions as well by the genuine and orderly causes that beget them, and by their own particular principles, as to assent unto them for the necessity that we see in them in regard of the end that they are referred unto: And when we have retrived those, and evidently discerned their force, it giveth an admirable content and satisfaction to the understanding. Thus then: as philosophers conclude that it is impossible any whole species or kind of beasts should ever be utterly exterminated and destroyed, that is diffused up and down over the whole face of the earth, because the amplitude of the universe is greater than the variety of causes can be from which such a general and entire corruption must proceed: In like manner we may confidently conclude, that it is impossible any depraved affections should so universally prevail, and so absolutely reign in men's minds throughout the whole world, as would be requisite to extirpate and root out a doctrine universally spread over it all, that was at the first taught and confirmed with such seals of truth as the miracles that Christ and the apostles wrought, that in its self is so pure and agreeable to the seeds that every man findeth sowed, even by nature, in his own soul; that worketh such admirable effects as the reformation of manners in mankind; that withdraweth men's affections from humane and worldly contentments, and carrieth them with a sweet violence to intellectual objects, and to hopes of immortality and happiness in another life; that prescribeth laws for happy living, even in this world, to all men of what condition soever, either public or private, as working a moderation in men's affections to the commodities and goods of this life, which else in nature is apt to blind men's minds, and is the cause of all mischiefs and evils; and lastly, that is delivered over from hand to hand, from worlds of fathers to worlds of sons, with such care and exactness as greater cannot be imagined, and as it is requisite to the importance of that affair; which is infinitely beyond all others, as on which the salvation and damnation of mankind wholly dependeth. Now, unto these rational considerations let us add the promise which Christ made to his Church, that the gates of hell should not prevail against it; and I think we have sufficiently maintained that the Church of Christ in which the true doctrine of Christ is conserved, can never fail, but must infallibly continue unto the world's end. Thus having proved, that a supernatural doctrine is necessary to bring mankind to beatitude, that Christ taught this doctrine, that from him the Church received it, and is the sacrary in which it is conserved; that this Church cannot err in the tradition of this doctrine, that besides the infallibility of it, this Church is perpetual; It remaineth now that we close up this discourse by applying all these premises unto the question in hand; which is, where we shall find out this infallible Church, that by it we may gain the knowledge of the true saith of Christ, whereby we are to be saved.  
16. For this end our sixteenth and last conclusion shall be, that the congregation of men spread over the world, joining in communion with the Church of Rome, is the true Catholic Church, in which is conserved and taught the true saving faith of Christ.  
The truth of this conclusion will without bringing any new proofs appear evidently by reflecting upon what we have said, and only examining whether the Roman Church be such a one as we have determined the true Church of Christ must be; or whether the notes which we may infer out of our discourse to belong inseparably to the true Church, may not rather with more reason be acknowledged of some other then of that in communion with the see of Rome? This point after these grounds laid, requireth not very subtle disquisition, but is discernible even by the weakest sights: and therefore this way of arguing appeareth to me most satisfactory and contentful, when taking the whole body of the question into survey, and beginning with the first and remotest considerations of it, we drive the difficulties still before us; and pursuing of them orderly, at every step we establish a solid principle, and so become secure of the truth and certainty of all we leave behind us; which course, although it may at the first fight appear to be a great way about, and looking but superficially upon the matter we may seem to meet with difficulties which concern not our question; yet in the effect we shall perceive it is the most summary method of handling any controversy; and the only means to be secured of the truth of what we conclude, and that will recompense the precedent difficulties by making the conclusion (which is the knot of the affair) plain, easy, and open. I say then first, that unity of doctrine in matters of faith is inseparable from the Roman Church, and can never be found in any other: it only, having a precise and determinate rule of faith. For it hath believed in every age, all that hath been plainly and positively taught unto it by their Fathers as the doctrine of faith derived from Christ; and admitteth no other article whatsoever as an article of faith. Whereas on the other side, all other Christian Churches among us that pretend reformation, having no certain and common rule of faith, but every particular man governing himself in this matter by the collections of his own brain, and by his own private understanding and interpretation of Scripture (which only he acknowledgeth as the entire rule of faith) it must consequently follow, that according to the variety of their tempers and judgements, there must be a variety and difference of their opinions and beliefs; which difference of temper happening for the most part between every two men that are, it likewise followeth scarce any two should in all particulars of their opinions agree together. And accordingly we see by experience, that scarce any two authors, out of the Roman Church, that have written of matters of faith have agreed in their tenets, but rather have dissented in fundamental doctrine, and have inveighed against one another in their writings with great vehemence & bittesnes. Whereas on the other side, the Doctors of the Roman Church in all times, in all places, and of all tempers have agreed unanimously in all matters of faith; although in the mean time, several of them, have in divers other points great debates against one another, and pursue them with much sharpness: which strongly confirmeth the ground upon which we frame this observation.  
But to insist a little further upon this material and important consideration; it is evident that the proceeding of the reformers openeth the gate to all dissension, schism, irreverence, pride of understanding, heresy, & ruin of Christian Religion: for to justify the new births of their rebellious brains, the first stroke of their pen must be, to lay a taint of ignorance & error upon the whole current of ancient fathers and Doctors of the Church, and general Counsels, and to blast their authority; which is so precisely contrary to their doctrine, whose names and records ought to be sacred with posterity. Which when they have done; to settle a constant and like belief in all men, they give no general and certain rule; but leaving every man to the dictamen of his own private judgement, according to the several tempers and circumstances (as we said before) that sway every single man in particular, there must result (which we see by experience) as great a variety of opinions as those are different. And lastly since they quarrel at Catholics belief in those points where they differ from them, because they captivate their understandings with reverence to what the Church proposeth and teacheth, and thereby admit into their belief articles which may seem absurd to common sense; they may as well with presumptuous hands grasp at, and seek to pluck up the very foundations of Christian Religion; as namely the Doctrine of the Trinity, and of the incarnation of Christ, and of the resurrection and state of life of the future world: since there are greater seeming contradictions in them (especially in the two first) than in those mysteries the reformers cavil at.  
In the next place we may consider, that as infallibility is pretended by the Roman Church alone, so it is apparently entailed upon it: for we have proved that no means or circumstance, either moral, natural or supernatural, is wanting in it to beget infallibility in matters of faith. Whereas on the other side, from the reformers own position we infer by consequence, that their doctrine cannot be hoped (even by themselves) to be infallible, and therefore they that shall submit their understanding to their conduct, though they believe without controversy all they say, must needs (even by reason of what is taught them) float always in a great deal of incertitude, and anxious apprehension and fear of error. For they looking upon the Church, but with pure humane considerations, and as an ordinary company of men, will have it liable to mistaking, according to the natural imbecility of men's wits and understandings, and of humane passions, and negligence, and other such defects and weaknesses which every man is by nature subject unto: Against which they produce no antidote to preserve and secure themselves from the infection & taint they lay upon the Church. For, if they will have the conferences of several passages of Scripture to be that which must give light in the several controverted obscurities; what eminency have these few late reformers shown, either in knowledge of tongues, insight into antiquity, profoundness in sciences, and perfection and sanctity of life, which hath not shined admirably more (not to tax them here of the contrary) in multitudes of the adverse party? And none will deny but these are the likeliest means to gain a right intelligence of the true and deep sense of Scriptures. And besides, we may observe that the reason why they deny the several articles wherein they differ from the Catholic Church, is because it teacheth a doctrine which is repugnant to sense, and of hard digestion to philosophy; both which are uncompetent judges of divine and supernatural truths: And whosoever steereth by their compass, cannot hope for infallibility in a matter that transcendeth their reach.  
Thirdly we may consider that the universality of the Church in regard of place (which is necessary, to the end that all mankind may have sufficient means to gain knowledge of the true faith) can be attributed to none but to the Roman Catholic Church; which only is diffused throughout the whold world; whereas all others are circled in with narrow limits of particular provinces; And even within them, the professors scarce agree among themselves in any point of doctrine, but in opposing the Roman Church.  
And yet further; besides this want of universality in regard of place; the Religion taught by the reformers, hath yet a greater restriction than that: for even in its own nature, it is not for all sorts of persons and for all capacities: whereas the true saving faith to bring men to beatitude ought to be obvious to all mankind, and open as well to the simple as to the learned. For since they lay the Scriptures as the first and highest principle, from whence they deduce all to that aught to be believed; And that in all arts and sciences the primary and fundamental principles thereof ought to be throughly known by them that aspire to the perfect knowledge of those sciences; it followeth that one must have an exact knowledge of the learned tongues to examine punctually the true sense of the Scriptures; and that one must be perfectly versed in logic to be able to reason solidly, and to deduce true consequences from certain principles (for want of which, we find by experience that great controversies arise daily among the learnedst men; which would not be, if the force of consequences were of their own nature easily discernible) and one must be throughly skilled in natural philosophy and Metaphysics, since unto appearing contradictions in subjects of those sciences, they reduce most of their arguments against the supernatural truths that Catholics believe. And lastly, one must be endowed with an excellent judgement and strong natural wit, to be able to wield and make good use of these weapons; without which they would but advance him the faster to ruin and pernicious error. With which excellencyes, how few are there in the world fairly adorned?  
Fourthly, it is evident that the Roman Catholic Church only hath had a constant and uninterrupted succession of Pastors and Doctors, and tradition of doctrine from age to age, which we have established as the only means to derive down the true faith from Christ. Whereas it is apparent all others have had late beginnings from unworthy causes: And yet, even in this little while, have not been able to maintain themselves for one age throughout (or scarce for any considerable part of an age) in one tenor of doctrine, or form of Ecclesiastical government. Lastly we may consider how the effect of the holy Ghost his inhabiting in the Church, in regard of manners, making the hearts of men his living temples, shineth eminently in the Catholic Church, and is not so much as to be suspected in any other whatsoever. For where this holy spirit reigneth, it giveth a burning love of God (as we have touched before) and a vehement desire of approaching unto him as near as may be. Now, the soul of man moveth towards God, not by corporeal steps and progressions, but by intellectual actions; the highest of which, are mental prayer and contemplation; in which exercises, a man shall advance the more, by how much he is the more sequestered from the thought and care of any worldly affairs, and hath his passions quieted within him, and is abstracted from communication with material objects, and is untied from human interests, and (according to the counsels of Christ in the Gospel) hath cast off all solicitude of the future, and remitteth himself wholly to the providence of God, living in the world as though he were not in it, wholly intent to contemplation, when the inferior part of Charity calleth him not down to comply with the necessity of his Neighbours. This form of life we see continually practised in the Catholic Church by multitudes of persons of both sexes, that through extreme desire of approaching as near unto God as this life will permit, do banish themselves from all their friends, kindred, and what else in the world was naturally dearest unto them; and either retire into extreme solitudes, or shut themselves up for ever within the narrow limits of a strait Monastery and little cell; where having renounced all the interest and propriety in the goods of this world, and using no more of them then is necessary for the sustenance of their exhausted bodies (which they mortify with great abstinences, watch and other austerities, that they may bring them into subjection; and root out, as much as may be, the very fuel of concupiscence and passions) and having of their own accord barred themselves of all propriety of disposing of themselves in any action, and renounced even the freedom of their will; and thus in sum, having taken an eternal farewell of all the joys and delights that this world can afford, and that carnal men would be so loath to forgo for any little while; yet by the internal joys that they find in their prayer and contemplation (unto which all these actions of retrenchment from superfluities, or outward solaces, do serve as a ladder to ascend unto the top of it) they live so happily, and cheerfully, and with such tranquillity of mind, and upon occasions say so much of the overflowings of their bliss, as it is aparent they enjoy there the hundred fold that Christ promised in this life. Nor can it be objected that men usually betake themselves to this course of Religious life, upon being distempered by melancholy, or for the ill success and traverses they have had in affairs of the world, or out of simplicity and weakness of understanding; since it is evident that this angelical form of living hath ever heene practised by persons of the best composed and cheerfullest dispositions; and by multitudes of such is and hath been embraced; and that in the world overflowed with all the blessings it could afford them; and were of strongest parts of understanding and▪ judgement; and were most eminent in learning So that it is apparent they had no other motive thereunto, but purely the love of God and fervour of devotion: which being an effect of the holy Ghost residing in their hearts; to his inspirations and admirable ways of working in those his temples of flesh and blood, these extraordinary effects are to be imputed. Whereas on the other side no such examples, or supernatural form of life, are to be met withal in any other Church whatsoever: Rather they disclaim from them; and like men of this world (which is the expression that Christ useth in the Gospel to design those that are not of his Church) not being able to discern things of the spirit, but being blinded with the lustre of them, too great for their weak eyes, they neglect and disdain them, and imagine that all Christian perfection consisteth in an ordinary humane moral life: which is the uttermost period that any among them seek to attain unto. And therefore we may hence conclude that they have no interior worker among them, more sublime than their own humane discourses and judgements; and that supernatural sanctity (an effect of the holy Ghost) is confined only to the Catholic Church.  
Besides, we may observe by daily experience, how those persons that addict themselves to such an extraordinary way of life, do absolutely prove the very best, or the worst of mankind; the one excelling in admirable piety, fervour of devotion, abstraction and sanctity of life, and some of them soaring up to a pitch even above nature; the other abounding in all sorts of impiety, wickedness and dissolution of manners, till at length their hearts become even hardened against correction, and all sense of spiritual things; whereas it ordinarily happeneth that the most flagitious men among those who live in a vulgar worldly estate of life, do upon occasions frequently receive notable impressions from divine objects, to the amendment and change of their dissolute course. And this being a constant & certain effect noted at all times and in all places, it must be attributed to a constant and powerful cause: which can be no other than the near approaching of those persons to the original fountain of sanctity & goodness; which being like a consuming fire, worketh vehement effects in them, according to the disposition they are in, and to the nearness that they have unto that fire: so that as the sunbeams (which are the authors of life and foecundity to all plants and vegetables) shining upon a tree that hath taken  roots in the earth, maketh it bud, flourish, and bear fruit, and on the other side, if it be weakly rooted, their heat and operation upon that tree maketh it the sooner to whither and die: And as the fire sendeth an influence of heat into a pot of water that is simply applied unto it, but if that pot be set in a vessel of Snow or Ice, and so be held over the fire, it driveth into the centre the cold of the Snow formerly diffused without, and in a very short space turneth that water into Ice, which else might have stayed there long enough without congealing: in like manner, they who being rooted in Charity, approach to that divine Sun, do flourish and bring forth excellent, and oftentimes supernatural fruits of devotion, fervour, and sanctity; but those who have depraved affections so environing the roots of their hearts, as that the soil of Charity cannot introduce her nourishing sap into them; and whose souls are compassed in with the Ice of sensuality and carnal cogitations; if they come within the beams of this holy Sun, or within the heat of this sanctifying fire, they do but whither away the sooner, and their hearts grow daily more and more to be Ice, till at length (like that of Pharaoh, amidst the wondrous works of the lord, happy to others) they become miseerable and stony.  
And again we see, that those who having addicted themselves wholly to such a course of seraphical life, and that being always vehemently intent to the love and contemplation of the prime verity, and that having no other object for their actions or thoughts; do thereby (as we may reasonably conceive) approach nearest to God almighty, and draw immediately from him (who is the fountain of light and truth) strongest emanations and clearest influences to illustrate their understanding, and inflame their affections: those persons (I say) have ever been most earnest in the maintenance of those points of the Roman doctrine which are most repugnant to sense; as in particular, of that of the real presence of Christ's body in the blessed Sacrament; unto which all other sacraments, and acts of faith and devotion, are reduced) and adore them with greatest reverence, and are inflamed with ferventest devotion unto them. And therefore we may conclude that this confidence, religiousness, and fervour, proceedeth from hence, that these men, and such among them as cannot be suspected for simplicity, ignorance, or sinister ends, are thus confirmed in this faith, and are thus set on fire with this devotion more vigorously and vehemently then ordinary secular men; by the immediate working and inspiration of the holy Ghost; from whose streams it is likely they drink purer and clearer waters, and nearer the well head, than other men of a more worldly and vulgar conversation. And it were not agreeable to the goodness of God to permit those persons that most affectionately seek him, and who for his sake out of pure devotion and desire of contemplating truth, do abridge themselves of all other worldly contentments, to have their understanding worse blinded with false doctrine than other men that seek him more coldly and care less for him; and to have their wills more depraved than theirs with erroneous and false devotion, as of necessity it would follow theirs were, if the doctrine that the Catholic Church professeth were not true, and the holy Ghost resided not in it to work those effects. Now on the contrary part, let us make a short inquiry whether it be probable that the late pretended reformers have been illuminated by God in an extraordinary manner, to discover truth: which they say hath for many ages lain hid. Surely if any such thing were, they would have expressed in their manner of life by some extraordinary sanctity and excellent actions, and supernatural wisdom, that extraordinary communication which they would persuade us they had with the divinity. For as by a radiant beam of light shining in at the chink of a window, we know assuredly, the Sun beateth upon it, although we see not his body; so likewise there should have broken out from them some admirable and excellent effect whereby we might rest confident that the divine Sun illuminated their understanding, & inflamed their Wil Moses, when he came down from the mountain where he so long conversed with God, expressed even by the lustre glittering from his face that it was not an ordinary or natural light which had shined unto him: the Apostles when they were replenished with the holy Ghost, received immediately the gift of tongues, and a clear intelligence of all the Scriptures; whereby they made clear unto the auditors the obscurest passages of them; and continually wrought miracles. And all those that ever since them have introduced the Gospel into any Country, where formerly it was not received, have still had their commission authorised by the same seals; and shall our late particular Reformers be credited in their pretended vocation, and in their new doctrine that shaketh the very foundations of the faith that hath been by the whole Christian world for so many ages believed and delivered over from hand to hand, when as nothing appeareth in them supernatural, and proceeding from a divine cause?  
This, Madam, is as much as I shall trouble your Ladyship withal upon this occasion: which indeed is much more than at the first I intended, or could have suspected my pen would have stolen from me. The substance of all which may be summed up, and reduced to this following short question; namely, whether in the election of the faith whereby you hope to be saved, you will be guided by the unanimous consent of the wisest, the learned'st and the piousest men of the whole world, that have been instructed in what they believe by men of the like quality living in the age before them, and so from age to age, until the Apostles and Christ; and that in this manner have derived from the fountain, both a perfect and full knowledge of all that aught to be believed; and likewise a right understanding and interpretation of the Scriptures, as far as concerneth faith; (the true sense of which, so far is also delivered over by the same tradition.) Or whether you will assent unto the new and wrested interpretations of places of Scripture, made by late men, that rely merely upon their single judgement and wit (too slight a bark to sail in through so immense an Ocean) and whose chief leaders for human respects and sinister ends (not to say worse of them) made a desperate defection from the other main body; since which time not two of them have agreed in doctrine; and among whom it is impossible your Ladyships great judgement and strong understanding should find any solid stay to rely securely upon, and to quiet all those rational doubts that your perceiving wit suggesteth unto you. And here Madam, I shall make an end; having sincerely, and as succinctly and plainly as I can, delivered you the chief considerations that in this affair turned the scale of the balance with me; which in good faith I have done with all the simplicity and ingenuity that I can express my sense with; being not at all warmed with any passion or partiality, nor raised out of my even pitch and temper with any spirit of disputation, or siding humour; (which few have avoided upon this subject) but I have given you a true picture of my seriousest and saddest thoughts & resolutions to myself in this most important business; wherein you will believe I would take the greatest pains I was able, to be sure not to be deceived. I have not sought to show wittiness or acuteness of learning in the debating of these points; or have affected polished language in the committing them to paper; for this matter should not be handled for ostentation, but for use: and though peradventure if this discourse should fall into the view of some learned man, he may at the first sight set but a slight value upon it; yet I persuade myself whosoever he be, if he will ponder it seriously & leisurely, and with alike interior recollection, as I at the first settled the grounds of it in my own soul, he will then find it toucheth the life of the matter: and though I have not delivered my conceptions smoothly and well, yet he will not think his time lost in reading them; and having stronger parts than I, he will make clearer use of them then I have done. This I am sure of; that although I have set this down for your Ladyship, in two or three days (for it is not longer since you commanded me to do it) yet it is the production and result of many hour's meditations by myself; or rather of some years: and how dry soever they may appear to your Ladyship at the first; yet I dare promise you that upon your second and third readings, and reflections upon them, they will gain more credit with you; and you will (I know) by such application of your thoughts upon them, enlarge and refine what dependeth of the main heads, far beyond any thing I have said. For such is the nature of notions that are wrought, like the silk worm's ball, of ones own substance; they alford fine and strong threads for a good workman to wove into a fair piece of stuff: whereas they, that like bees do gather honey from several authors, or that like Aunts, do make up their store by what they pick up in the original crude substance from others labours, may peradventure in their works seem more pleasant at the first taste, or appear to have a fairer heap at the first view; but the others web is more useful, more substantial, and more durable.  
I beseech God of his grace and goodness, in this life to enlighten your Ladyship's understanding, that you may discern truth, and to dispose your will that you may embrace it; and in the next, to give you part among those glorious Apostles, Fathers, Doctors, and Martyrs, that deriving the same truth from him, have from hand to hand delivered it over to our times.   

The Table.  

CHAP. 1. Of the utmost and highest perfection that it is possible for a man to arrive unto in this life. pag. 1.  
CHAP. 2. How one may cleave, and intent wholly to Christ, despising all other things. p. 3.  
CHAP. 3. In what the perfect conformity of man with God consisteth in this life. P. 6.  
CHAP. 4. How our operations ought to be in the intellectual part of our soul only, and not in our senses. P. 8.  
CHAP. 5. Of the purity of heart, which above all things is to be aimed at▪ P. 14.  
CHAP. 6. That true devotion consisteth in adhering to God by the understanding, and will, depured from all commerce with material objects. P. 20.  
CHAP. 7. In what manner one's heart is to be recollected within one's self. P. 24.  
CHAP. 8. How, in all chances, a spiritual man ought to resign himself too God. P. 29.  
CHAP. 9 That the contemplation of God is to be preferred before all other exercises. P. 32.  
CHAP. 10. That actual and sensible devotion is not so much to be regarded, as to adhere to God with ones will. P. 38.  
CHAP. 11. In what manner we are to resist temptations, and to bear tribulations. P. 42.  
CHAP. 12. Of the love of God, and of the great power it hath. P. 44.  
CHAP. 13. Of the quality (and utility of prayer: and how one's heart is to be recollected within one's self. P. 49.  
CHAP. 14. That in all judgements, we ought to resort to the witness of our consciences. P. 52.  
CHAP. 15. How the contempt of ones self may be caused in a man, and how profitable that is. p. 56.  
CHAP. XVI. How the Providence of God extendeth itself to all things. P. 6●   
FINIS.