THE EVENING-STAR Appearing to the SAINTS, Directing them to celebrate their Holy Rest, even the Sabbath-day, (not from Morning to Morning nor from Midnight to Midnight; but) from Even to Even, according to the Word of God.  
First written in a Letter at the earnest Request of a Friend for his satisfaction, concerning the beginning of the Sabbath Day: And here published for the general good of all that profess Christianity; and in order to the rectifying of some things in the late Act, concerning the observation of the Lords Day.  
There is an Epistle to the Parliament in the Conclusion, tending also to the taking away of the Popish Prelatical, and Antichristian Presbyterian-Penalties, contained in several Acts and Ordinances of Parliament which have been, and still are put in execution against the best sort of religious Protestants.  
Unto which is also annexed, A new Christian Creed built upon the old foundation of the holy Apostles, and Prophets Jesus Christ being the chief Corner Stone.  
By SAMUEL CHIDLEY, Cler.  
London; Printed by John Clowes. 1650.   

The Preface, and Epistle Dedicatory. To the Saints on earth, Grace, Mercy and Peace be multiplied.  
Beloved,  
AS Jehovah hath chosen you to be his holy, special and peculiar People above all the people that are upon the face of the Earth, 
* Deut. 7.6. & 14.2. Exod. 19.5. Isa. 56. Rom. 10.12.  so he hath given unto you signs & Sacraments, amongst which the Sabbath is a sign between him and you, to testify, That he is Jehovah which sanctifieth you; 
* Exod. 31.13, 17.  Therefore ye are commanded to Remember the Sabbath-day to keep it holy. 
* Ex. 20.8.   
From the Creation of the world, God did appoint one day of seven to be a Sabbath, not only because he had rested on the seventh day from all his Works which he had created and made; 
* Deut. 31.17. Gen. 2.2.  But that both man & beast might have rest and resreshment also, 
* Deut. 5.14.  which thing remaineth substantially unto this day, as sure as God is merciful who hath not left it to the wills of men; but hath established this Liberty, upon the grounds of certainty.  
In old time God did institute the seventh day for a 
* Ex. 20. ●0. See ●r. Ans●orth's ●ransla●ion.  Sabbath, but there was not that desirable perfection in it for acception as was upon the first day of the wick the morrow after the Jews Sabbath; which was higher, and more honourable because of the Wave-sheaf, 
* Leu. 23.10.11.— 1●  and first fruits 
** ver● 15— 21  then presented before the LORD, those lively Types of Jesus Christ, who is the first fruits of them that sleep, 
* 1 Co● 15.20.23.  who risen from the dead on the morrow after the Sabbath; As therefore the Jews were to observe it as a Sabbath, and a holy convocation by solemn Proclamaion it was to be unto them, And they were to do no servile work therein 
* Leu. 23.21. : So must the Christians now in the days of Christ our Lord 
* Psa. 110.31 , who honoured this day by his presence, in the midst of his Disciples after his Resurrection, upon the first day of the Week, 
* Joh. 20 19  and eight days after that 
* er. 26.  even upon the second first day 
* Leu. 23.15.16.  he came again & gave them more fuller manifestations, and confirmations of his Resurrection, breathing on them that they might receive the Holy-Ghost, and after his Ascension into Heaven, sent down the Holy-Ghost upon his Disciples on the fiftieth day, which was the morrow after the Jews Sabbath 
* Acts 2.1. , And on the Lord's day also, he ravished with his spirit, that Disciple John, whom he so dearly loved before his death; And then and there in the Isle of Pathmos, he in, parted that great Revelation which is called The Revelation of Jesus Christ, which he had received from the bosom of the Father 
* Rev. 1.1, 10. . This first day of the week, is the day of Christ's power 
* Psalms 110.2. , on which day the disciples met together to break bread, and to practise the other Ordinances of God, for the setting forth of Jesus Christ, who holdeth his Ministers in his right hand, and walketh in the midst of his Churches 
* Acts 20.7. 1 Cor. 16.2. Rev. 1.12, 13,— 20. & 2.1. & 7.16. . This is the day of our holy solemnity to be kept in Zion, the City of the Saints solemnities, upon which day our Lord Christ was made perfect, 
* Luke 13.32. Heb. 5.9.  an High Priest for ever, not after the Law of a carnal commandment, but after the power of an endless life 
* & 7.16. ; then the stone which the Builders refused became the head of the Corner; 
● Ps. 118.  Then the right hand of Jehovah was exalted and did valiantly; Then Christ said, I shall not die but live and declare the works of Jehovah 
* Ps. 118.18.19. ; For although for a little while as precious seed he lay in the heart of the earth, yet through the quickening Spirit of God, which came upon him as the dew of Heaven he arose, and sang, and Jehovah was then his strength and song, and also became his Salvation 
* v. 14. .  
This day is a joyful & good day; This Sabbath is a delight, holy of Jehovah, honourable 
* Isa. 58.13. Ps. 118.22.  it is the day of his marvellous do; This is the day which Jehovah hath made 
* ver. 24. , our God hath entered into Covenant with us this day, 
* Isa. 54 9, 10.  to give us the sure mercies of David 
* Acts 13.34. ;  
This is the wedding-day of Jesus Christ with his beloved spouse 
* Isa. 54.5. , it is his Coronation-day the day of his espousals, and the day of the gladness of his heart 
* Cant. 2.11.  O come then and let us be glad and rejoice in it with him, and let the voice of joy and rejoicing be heard in the Tabernacles of the righteous.  
Is not this the great Market day of our souls, wherein there is Proclamation made, Ho every one that thirsteth, come unto the waters of life? And he saith moreover, Harken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness, incline your ear, come unto me, hear and your souls shall live; And I will make an everlasting Covenant with you, even the sure Mercies of David 
* Isa. 55.1,— 3. . And the spirit and the Bride say come, and he that heareth saith come, and let him that is a thirst come; And whosoever will, let him take of the Well of the water of life freely 
* Rev. 22.17. . O how sweet are the Crystal streams of the Christian Brooks, which proceed from the Throne of God and of the Lamb! And how pleasant and precious is the Tree of Life on either side the River of Righteousness, the meat where of is good for food, and the leaves thereof for Medicine!  
Blessed are those that keep his Commandments, that they may have right to the Tree of life, and enter in through the Gates into the Holy City.  
Remember therefore the Sabbath day to keep it holy, as the Lord hath Commanded, particularly to consider the time of celebration thereof, which is from even to even.  
Now that you may not forget duly to prepare yourselves against the night of our holy solemnity, I have published this following Epistle, to prove that the Evening and the Morning is the first day from the Creation, and that the Sabbath or Lords day, is to be kept (not from Morning to Morning, nor from Midnight to Midnight but) from Even to Even.  
Thus saith Jehovah, If you can break my Covenant of the day, & my Counant of the night, & that there should not be day and night in their season; then may also my Covenant be broken with David my servant, that he should not have a Son to Reign upon his Throne, and with the Levitoes the Priests my Ministers. 
* Jer. 33.20.21.    

Now here followeth the Letter, which was Written at the earnest request of a friend, for his satisfaction concerning the beginning of the Sabbath-day  
Loving friend,  
I Understand by an old acquaintance, and loving friend of mine, that you have a great desire to receive some Grounds from me in Writing, wherefore I keep the Lords Day from Evening to Evening; and not hold it from Midnight to Midnight. Truly at the first I thought it most meet, that seeing we are both in one Town, and can freely and frequently come to talk face to face, it were better so to do, then to write unto you with ink and pen; but further considering, what my friend had told me, that you could better declare your mind in writing, then by speech (though I doubt not, but that in discourse you are able to give reason, and to receive reason) I therefore have thought it not amiss, to spare some time from my pressing urgent occasions, to satisfy your desire by writing, considering the smallness of your request, and how that if this writing satisfy you, you may send it unto your friends in the Country for their satisfaction, seeing we cannot speak with them by word of mouth; but if these lines which I shall here present you withal, satisfy you not, nevertheless it will serve as an entrance into more fuller discourse between us upon this subject.  
And now to the matter in hand.  
It is good to mind, what we are to understand by [a] day in this present controversy, and that will lead us to the day.  
By a day in the Scriptures we are to understand, either a day of twelve hours, or a large day of twenty four hours.  
A day of twelve hours Christ speaketh of when he saith, 
* John 11.9.  Are there not twelve hours in the day? And so he showeth by the Parable of the vineyard, 
* Matt. 20. v. 1. to the 13.  where those that were hired at the eleventh hour, wrought one hour, and then the day was at an end; therefore as there are twelve hours in the day: so likewise- there are twelve hours in the night. And so it appeareth, that the day and night are both of an equal length: and so it was when there was neither Sun nor Moon; for the week consisteth of seven parts, and every of those parts is  hours a piece, none being longer or shorter than other, & this may appear by Exodus 
* Exod. 20.9.10.11.  where it is said, Six days shalt thou labour, and do all that thou hast to do: and the seventh day is a Sabbath, etc. And when the seventh day ended then the week began again, as may appear by Leviticus, 
* Levit. 23.15.16.  where it is written, And ye shall Count unto you from the morrow after the Sabbath from the day that ye brought the sheaf of the Wave-Offering. Seven Sabbaths shall be complete, even unto the morrow after the seventh Sabbath shall ye number fifty days, & c? And in Deuteronomy, these are called seven weeks, 
* Deut. 16.9.10.   
The night (in the Scriptures) as it consisteth of twelve hours equal with the day, so it is divided into four equal parts, 
See  which parts are called four watches, 
* Luke 12.38. & Matt. 14.25.  In the fourth watch of the night Jesus walked on the Sea.  
The first watch of the night beginneth when the first hour of the night beginneth (even at the time which is commonly called six a clock at night) and is the evening-watch, and lasteth three hours.  
The second watch is from the end of the first watch, and lasteth till midnight, or the sixth hour of the night, (which is commonly called twelve a clock.  
The third watch of the night is from the end of the second watch, & lasteth also three hours, even till the ninth hour of the night.  
And then at the end thereof beginneth the fourth watch, and lasteth three hours, even till the first hour of the day, (which is commonly called six a clock in the morning) and is called the morning watch. In the morning watch it is said, 
* Exod. 13.24.  The Lord looked unto the Host of the Egyptians, through the pillar of fire, and of the Cloud, and troubled the Host of the Egyptians: now the Pillar of fire was to lead them by night. Therefore at this time when God looked through the Pillar of fire, though it was the morning watch, yet it was part of the night, even of the twelve hours. See also in Mark 
* Mark 13.35.36.  where Jesus Christ divideth the night into four watches, saying thus: Watch ye therefore, for ye know not when the Master of the house cometh, at even, or at Midnight, or at the Cock-crowing, or in the (dawning 
* some Translations say in the dawning, Other saith, in the morning.  or) morning: lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping. Now in a temporal respect, the night is made for Man to sleep in, and those that sleep, sleep in the night; But in extraordinary cases, men are to watch, unto which Jesus Christ alludeth when he saith watch— lest when he cometh he find you sleeping.  
Moreover I conceive, that as the latter part of the Night (or Evening) is called Morning, so the latter part of the Day, (or Morning) is called Evening, because it is next to it, and next before it. So it was Commanded, that the Passe-over should be slain between the two Evenings, 
* Exod. 12.6.  That is to say in the lesser Evening, before the twelfth hour of the day, which was the beginning of the Evening for the next day, and they were to roast it, & eat it at night, and not to let aught of it remain until the morning; but that which remained till morning they were to burn it with fire, 
* v. 10  So that there is two Evenings to one day, there is the greater Evening, and the lesser Evening. The greater Evening is the night, 
* Job. 7.3.4.  before the day itself. The lesser Evening is the latter part of the day itself. As for morning, there is the morning watch, and the morning itself, And the large day consisteth of twenty four hours, even a night and a day, (as hath been showed) or a night day as Paul speaketh. 
* 2 Cor. 11.25.   
Now these things being considered as a preparation whereby you may understand how I reckon the day, branching it out in the several parts thereof: I come now to give you several grounds for my practice of keeping the Lords day from Evening to Evening.  
THe first is, because that God from the Creation, ordered the Evening to go before the Morning, before ever the Sun or Moon were Created. It's said the Evening and the Morning was the f●rst day, 
* Gen. 1.5.  The Evening and the Morning was the second day. 
* v.  The Evening and the Morning was the third day. 
* v.  And the same Order followeth throughout the whole Week.  
After the Sun was made to rule the day, and the Moon to rule the night, the Evening and the Morning was the fourth day, 
* v. 19  where we see, The Evening is placed before the Morning, as it followed the fifth and sixth day, 
* v. 23.1.  And the Prophet David setting forth the Order of God's Creation, saith in the hundred and fourth Psalm, 
* Psalm. ●04. 19.— 24.  He appointed the Moon for seasons, the Sun knoweth his going down, Thou makest darkness, and it is night, wherein all the Beasts of the Forest do creep forth. The young Lions roar after their prey, and seek their meat from God The Sun ariseth, they gather themselves together, and lay them down in their Dens. Man goeth forth unto his work, and to his labour until the Evening. Wherein we may see, he placeth the night before the day, in respect of time, for the darkness which was called night was before the light, which was, called day: And God caused the light to shine out of darkness: unto which the Apostle alludeth orderly in his spiritual applications to the Corinthians, saying, God who Commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, giving the light of the knowledge of the Glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ, 
* 2 Cor. 4.6.   
MY second ground, why I keep the day which God hath made, 
* Psa. 118.24  holy from Even to Even, is from God's institution and Commandment unto Israel, saying in Leviticus, 
* Levit 23.32.  From Even to Even shall ye rest your Sabbath. And that Sabbath which God Commands to be sanctified, is a large day of twenty four hours, (the night going before the day of twelve hours, as is n●ted before) which time is the seventh part of the week: And as we are not to take part of one day, to make up another day: so we are not to take part of one week, to make up another week: for the days and weeks remain as from the Creation. The beginning of the day gins with the Evening: therefore the beginning of the week gins with the Evening also, and so from Even to Even the Jews were Commanded to celebrate their Sabbath. And this was well known to the Jews, which made them, when Christ was crucified upon the preparation day before their Sabbath, to make such haste, because that the Sabbath was coming on; for the ninth hour was come, before Jesus bowed the Head, and gave up the Ghost. 
* John. 9.30.— 34.  The Jews therefore, because it was the preparation, that the bodies should not remain upon the Cross on the Sabbath-day, (for that Sabbath-day was a high day) besought Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away. Then came the Soldiers, and broke the legs of the first, and of the other that was crucified with him; But when they came to Jesus, and saw that he was dead already, they broke not his legs, etc.  
Now if the Sabbath, had not begun at Evening, but at Midnight, or Morning, in all probability they would not have made such haste to break the legs of them that were crucified, whereby they might die speedily, and so be taken away immediately, seeing that than they would have had a long time, even till midnight, or day to bury them in, and especially considering, that Jesus was dead already, and it was probable, that the other two would not have lived long after him; but that there might have been time enough to have buried them before midnight. And another reason which confirmeth it, that the Jews than began their Sabbath at Evening, appeareth from John's Testimony which saith, 
* v. 41.42.  That in the place where he was crucified, there was a Garden, and in the Garden a new Sepulchre, wherein was never man yet laid. There laid they Jesus therefore, because of the Jews preparation day, for the Sepulchre was nigh at hand. Now the Lords day began when the Jews Sabbath ended: But the seventh day Sabbath began at Even, and ended at even, therefore the Lords day Sabbath beginneth at even, and is to be celebrated from Even to Even.  
MY third ground, why I begin this Honourable day, at Even, and so keep it from Even to Even, is from the practice of the Godly, and particularly of Nehemiah, 
* Neh. 13.19.  which testifieth saying, and it came to pass, that when the Gates of Jerusalem began to be dark before the Sabbath, I Commanded that the Gates should be shut, and charged that they should not be opened till after the Sabbath, and some of my Servants, set I at the Gates, that there should no burden be brought in on the Sabbath-day, So the Merchants and sellers of all kinds of Wares lodged without Jerusalem, 
* v. 20.21.  once or twice, than I testified against them, and said unto them, why lodge ye before the Walls, etc.  
MY fourth ground, why I keep the day from Even to Even, is from the consideration of the Death, Burial, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ, who declared, that as Ionas was 3 days and 3 nights in the Whale's Belly, so should the Sun of man be 3 days & 3. nights in the heart of the Earth. 
* Mat. 12.40.  Now Jesus Christ was crucified on the sixth day of the week, and died after the ninth hour was come, and was buried before the twelfth hour of the day, and lay all night, and the next day, and the next night, so that of nights, there is but two at the utmost. And if he should have lain another night, he could not have risen the third day, for than it would have been the fourth day. But the Scripture declareth, and we are bound to believe, that he risen again the third day, which was the first day of the week; and therefore in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, we are to account the days, as it was from the Creation, the Evening and the Morning, is a large day of twenty four hours, which being considered together, a part of that twenty four hours, is to be taken for the whole twenty four hours; but if they should be severed, and reckoned by the twelve hours, than there must be six times twelve hours considered, and out of every one of the twelve hours, we are to take a part, or else we cannot make up the number of three distinct days, and three distinct nights. And though we should take a part of one distinct day, & of one distinct night, for the whole day and night to make up the number: yet it must of necessity, be above four times twelve hours: that is, forty eight hours, or else a day and a night of the time will be wholly excluded: But Christ did not lie in the grave forty hours, he lay but a small time on the first day of his Burial, which was the sixth day of the week; for presently the Evening came, which night he lay in the grave, and all the next day, which was the Jews Sabbath. And Mark saith, 
* Mark 16.1.3.  That when the Sabbath was past, Marry Magdalen, and Mary the Mother of James, and Solome had brought sweet pices, that they might come and anoint him. And very early in the morning, the first day of the week, they came unto the Sepulchre, at the rising of the Sun: and Christ was risen before, 
* v. 6.  and appeared first to Mary Magdalen. 
* v. 9  And Luke saith, it was very early in the morning that they came to the Sepulchre, and Christ was risen before. 
* Luke. 24.1.6.  And Matthew saith, 
* Mat. 28.1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.  That as it began to dawn [towards] the first day of the week, came Mary Magdalen and the other Marry, to see the Sepulchre, and behold, there had been a great Earthquake: for the Angel of the Lord descended from Heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it. His countenance was like lightning, and his Raiment white as Snow, and for fear of him the Keepers did shake, and became as dead men. And the Angel answered and said unto the Women, fear not ye; for I know that ye seek Jesus which was crucified, He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. And as they went to tell his Disciples, behold Jesus met them, saying, All Hail, and they came, and held him by the feet, and worshipped him. 
* v. 9  Now when he was risen early the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalen, and she went out and told them that had been with him, as they mourned and wept. 
* Mark 16.9.— 11.  And they when they had heard that he was alive, and had been seen of her, believed not. Now John showeth the manner how he appeared to Mary Magdalen, saying, 
* joh. 20.1.— 17.  The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalen early, when it was yet dark unto the Sepulchre, and seethe the stone taken away from the Sepulchre, than she runneth and cometh to Simon Peter, and to the other Disciple, whom Jesus loved, and saith unto them, they have taken away the Lord out of the Sepulchre, and we know not where they have laid him. Peter therefore went forth, and that other Disciple, and came to the Sepulchre, so they ran both together, and the other Disciple did outrun Peter, & came first to the Sepulchre. And he stooping down, and looking in, saw the linen Clothes lying, yet went he not in. Then cometh Simon Peter, following him, and went into the Sepulchre, and seethe the linen Clothes lie. And the Napkin that was about his head, not lying with the linen Clothes, but wrapped together in a place by itself. Then went in also that other Disciple, which came first to the Sepulchre, and he saw and believed: for as yet they knew not the Scriptures, that he must rise again from the Dead. Then the Disciples went away again unto their own home: but Mary stood without at the Sepulchre weeping. And as she wept, she stooped down, and looked into the Sepulchre; and seethe two Angels in white, sitting the one at the head, and the other at the feet, where the Body of Jesus had lain, and they say unto her, woman, why weepest thou? she saith unto them, because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him. And when she had thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? she supposing him to be the Gardner, saith unto him, Sir, if thou have born him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away. Jesus saith unto her, Marry, she turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni, which is to say Master. Jesus saith unto her touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father; but go to my Brethren and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father, and to my God, and your God.  
Now all these things, were before he met the women, and that they caught him by the feet. And before Mary Magdalen was at the Sepulchre. Jesus Christ was risen, while it was yet dark, even [towards] day: And therefore seeing Jesus Christ risen the third day, and not the second day. The night before the daylight, must be concluded to be part of the large natural day, else we shall destroy our Article of our Faith, That Christ risen again the third Day.  
Divers other scriptures might be alleged, as that of pilate's wife's Dream about Christ, the first (Day) of the three, 
* Mat. 27.19. compared with Job 33.14.— 17.  & from that which the chief Priests and the Pharisees did upon the preparation day, when they came to Pilate, and would have the Sepulchre kept until the third day, Job lest his Disciples should come by night, and steal him away, and say unto the people, he is risen from the Dead 
* Mat. 27.62.— 64.  And also how they gave large money unto the Soldiers— 
* Mat. 18.11.— 14.  saying, say ye, His Disciples came by night and stole him away while we slept. And if this come to the Governors' ears we will persuade him, and secure you. But this is sufficient, not only to overthrow the opinion of those that would exclude the night, as if it were no part of the Lords day or Sabbath, as if they might follow their Trades in the night of our holy solemnity, so they do but keep the fourteenth part of the week not minding, that the night is part of the large natural day of 24. hours, which is the seventh part of the week. As also it reproveth those, that begin not to rest till the morning, and hold it from morning to morning, thereby altering from the Creation; for from the Creation, the Evening was before the Morning. And God said not, from morning to morning, but from Even to Even * shall you rest your Sabbath.   


tell what songs and sounds will best please the company to draw their minds from better exercise, and having no purpose to cure any, but rather to kill all, he will not work by contraries, he hath an intention to gain by his Trade, and therefore he will not cross the expectation of any which do suit to his purpose, but rather so soundeth, that he may seem sweet to all: Therefore to the proud he bringeth some harmonious sounds of popular praise, which like a loadstone draweth the vainglorious to hunt so much more earnestly to augment the echo of such vain windy reputation.  
Thus he befooleth the foolish with the voice of flatterers; to the greedy he hath the cry of great abundance, the words of wealth, and the glory of gain, which as the under-song of all their intentions, spurreth them forward to forget their true tranquillity; for musical minds he hath the pleasure of artificial concord, and for carnal quarrellers and rangling Lawyers, he hath that mad music of discord. And thus hath he a string and a strain for every sinful and sensual sinner's ear.  
Our third sense is smelling, the object whereof is savour, and although Satan doth not gain so much [in my opinion] by abusing this sense, nor so much prevail by the variety of this object, yet doth he exercise the minds of many in this perfumed airy object of smelling, the truth whereof appeareth in this stinking state of many perfumed fools, lechers, and luxurious, for the most part, of both Sexes. Cato would dismiss Publius of his ally, and not suffer him to be any longer Captain of the Pannomian war, because [quoth he] I never saw him return wounded from the war, but I have seen him walk up and down the City of Rome perfumed. Lycurgus King of Lacedemonia, saw well the evil of such perfuming, when he banished from Lacedemonia all strange wares. It is true, that odoriferous smells are wholesome, and sometimes to purify the ●●●e, is to preserve health, and thus to relieve nature by our sense were not to live sensual: this were to use our sense, and to make it serviceable to soul and body.  
But the Church of God hath an Allegorical savour in the nostril of her soul, which maketh her love her beloved, and seek him sincerely, which sent is cold in the nostrils of sensual sinners.  
Fourthly, let us consider how Satan doth exercise his skill in our tasting, the object whereof is sweet or sour, the Organ of which is our tongue, and surely if he prevail less by the object of our smelling, he doubleth, yea, he trebleth his advantage in this of our tasting; for of all man's five senses none doth more deceive him, and as it were twitch him more to a sensual and sinful life, than this of his tasting; the reason whereof is partly in respect of the common exercise of tasting, and partly in respect of the [almost] infiniteness of the objects of our taste; nor are the objects of our taste so many in the simple quality thereof, as it is variable in the manner of compounding; for it is hard to find any dainty dish which our dainty Dames have not several and different manners of preparing for, thereby to make it more pleasant to the palate, and as it were to ravish our tasting so much the more; neither is the enemy negligent to take the advantage of this our tasting, thereby to hinder our happiness: in so much, that whereas in the Scriptures we read of a certain man that fared deliciously every day, as though there had been no more but one so ill disposed: in our times, lamentable experience giveth us cause to relate certain men, yea, certain women, yea, certain hundreds, yea, certain thousands of both Sexes, that far deliciously every day, yea, voluptuously and superlatively, superfluously, every day, yea, twice every day, if no more. We read of one Esau, which sold his birthright for to please his palate with the taste of jacob's pottage: But our age may record millions of such monsters, which sell their Patrimony to maintain their taste, neither can they be satisfied when they have wasted their own estates, and then humbly [with the Prodigal] go eat husks with the Swine. But having wasted their wealth, they make trial of their wits; some like Aristippus, flatter and feign Dionysius or any great man like Parasites, till they justly merit that Surname, or worse, which Diogenes gave to Aristippus, calling him the King's dog. Some [whose tongues are not so pleasant] choose rather to use the strength of arm, and so by violence supply their wants with other men's wealth: Others use the sleight of hand by base picking and cutting of purses and other unutterable crafty shifts.  
But as this curiosity of the taste is, for the most part, predominant with the female sex, whose crooked fingers are accustomed so well to carving, that it is the best faculty both of their body and mind, and whose chief glory standeth in gormandizing, till they secretly consume their husband's estates, so have they a way of wickedness more proper to their Sex, to relieve their palate, and sensual appetite, even the base prostituting of their bodies to the pleasure of each luxurious lecher, till they have brought their companions to a morsel of bread, which being done, they [enlarged like hell] cry for new acquaintance, to maintain the pleasures of their palates, so that this sin is neither hic mulier, nor haec vir, but it is the Common of two Genders, and is but too common in all both men and women.  
We read of one Heraclitus, a great Philosopher, how that he always wept to consider the vanity of the times, in which he lived, notwithstanding he once found leisure to preach a silent Sermon against this pallate-pleasure, and pleasing of our taste; for being requested by his Countrymen to give his advice in a public oration, how they might avoid the private sedition and contention that was amongst them, he goeth into the Pulpit, where their orations were usually made, and saying nothing did in the presence of all the congregation, eat a morsel of brown bread, and drink a draught of cold water, thereby showing unto his Countrymen that excess of eating and drinking was the cause of their ruin, and that moderation and temperance therein was the only way to preserve peace and love amongst them; for to speak as the truth is, this superfluity of many procureth want in the most, and want procureth much mischief, where grace is not present to sustain the needy condition of the .  
The last of our senses is touching; which is not so confined in the Organ as the other four; for all the parts of man's body are organical in touching or feeling: A man may sensibly touch any object of touching, with any member from the head to the foot: the object of this sense is soft or hard, heavy or light; now in the exercise of our touching the craft of Satan much appeareth, for to the jolly and luxurious companion he offereth the soft pleasures of fine raiment and curious linen, the habit of those which live in King's houses, as our Saviour saith, and by continuance of time, he so affecteth their minds and so tendereth their skins, that they neither can nor will endure the hardness of harden, no lin is loath weak enough for their silken [yet sinful] skins; it is to be doubted whether the sending of a second Ionas would bring these Harlots to a shirt of hair, and these people's silk and satin to sackcloth.  
Thus their sense affecting softness, it cometh to pass, that all labour is terrible and hard, most uneasy and unpleasant; so idleness becometh the habit both of body and mind, and now is this party fit for the Devil's purpose.  
To conclude, this deceit of our senses, the Devil like a cunning fisher, laboureth to hang us with a hook baited with sensual objects, and having gotten his hook in our jaws, he doth not, like some unskilful Angler, by and by strike, to the hazard of hook, line, rod, fish and all; but rather draggeth and draweth us up and down in the Sea of our sensual contentment, or water of our wickedness, till at the last he hath drowned us in our own element, that so the rest of our hearts may be forgotten, and the peace of our minds buried in perpetual oblivion.  
The second engine whereby the peace of our heart is hindered [through the craft of the Devil] is the exercise of our fantasy upon its object, which fantasy or imagination of ours Satan feedeth with a thousand fancies and and foolish imaginations of imperfect shapes; sometimes he deceiveth with the conceit of learning, either this art or that language, in the perfection whereof he persuadeth us lieth much contentment.  
But if humane speculation be not able to satisfy the mind, than he hath a more deceitful invention to deceive us, and that is the propounding of some form of religious exercise: And hence it is, that he hath begotten so many new inventions in the Sect-makers of our times, as in old times he hath done heretofore: This is a Sea, and a Labyrinth of distraction, here the poor soul findeth a beginning, but hardly any end; for this religious knowledge is so variable, through the multiplicity of curious wits and contentious spirits, [Sect-makers for the most part] that the life of man is too short to take a view of this variety. Moreover, this exercise savoreth so of duty and obedience, that men are afraid to neglect the earnest exercise thereof. But well doth Satan see how to puff up the mind in the acquiring of such religious knowledge, and so to keep the mind in the acquiring of such reasonable forms of service, that the poor soul may never pass further than the outward court of bodily performance, nor once look within the most holy place.  
Thus hath he blown and puffed up many which in their external performance and knowledge, do even feed and feast themselves as men in dreams, supposing themselves to have all things, and yet indeed have nothing but only a bladder full, or rather a brain full of windy and wordy conceptions: So fruitless is all speculation and knowledge, in respect of quieting the soul or heart; for, [as shall be showed] the soul cannot communicate with any such comprehensible thing, but only with God which is a Spirit, and able to fill the Soul with his presence, and so quieteth the restlessness thereof, as it remaineth to be showed in the eleventh place, where we shall speak of the Harbour or Haven of the Heart's Happiness, and show it to be God himself.   

CHAP. V Of the heart's deceit in the conceit of happiness.  
IT is the conclusion of the Prophet Jeremiah, Chap. 17. Vers. 9 that man's heart is deceitful above all things; and true it is, that man's heart is not more cunning either in simulation of good, or in dissimulation of evil towards others, than it is in this selfe-deceiving, in seeming to itself happy in a most hapless condition: but because S. John saith, ch. 20. v. 21 that every man's condition is such as his heart doth assure him of,  
Object. Here may some object, that our hearts cannot deceive ourselves, though it may deceive others, and this objection is strengthened by that place in the Corinthians, know ye not your own selves that Christ is in you except you be Reprobates, 2 Cor. 13.5. by which two places it seemeth that every man's own heart can truly tell him what his estate and condition is, whether good or ill. Moreover, if we should deny this, that man's heart is able to give him true testimony, then should we cross this truth, that the conscience is a thousand witnesses, and so should we be forced to run into this absurdity of proving our inward condition and estate between God and us, from and by some mark and note from without in the outwards of our conversation; whereas to say as the truth is, all is in the outwards of our conversation, according as it is in the inward of our hearts, and all man's testimony to himself must be drawn from within, as we must give the Church and the world testimony from without.  
This being granted, that the heart doth give found testimony of a man's estate and condition between God and him, how is it then said, that the heart is deceived in the conceit of happiness? To which I thus answer, by a comparison.  
A Merchant, or any other man that tradeth in the world, hath good skill in Arithmetic, or the art of numbering, by virtue whereof he is very able (not man better) to cast up the account of his estate, and so to know truly what he oweth, and what is due to him from others, notwithstanding he partly through carelessness, and partly through fear of beholding the ruin of his condition, foreseeing that he is not so rich as he could wish, and as the world doth judge, he doth neglect the precise examination of his estate, and so esteemeth his estate [though bad] yet much better than it is; for whereas he judgeth himself worth little, it proveth in the conclusion that he is ten times more in debt then all that he hath is worth. Where now is the fault? is it want of skill in numbering? No, it is the want of the exercise of that skill; even so it is with our hearts, they are able to give us true testimony of our estate with God, but most neglect to take a true trial of themselves, for the reasons aforesaid. And so it cometh to pass, that the heart is deceived in the conceit of happiness. Now that the danger of this rock may be avoided, let us consider how this deceit is framed, where we will observe two things.  
First, what is the ground of this deceit.  
And secondly, the manner how it worketh.  
The ground of this deceit is an incredulity concerning this heart's happiness; for it is hard to find a man that believeth historically the quietness and happiness of the heart as it is to be considered; to tell men that there is a rest and peace in God passing understanding, seemeth a strange thing to most men; to persuade men that a man may be rich without wealth, honourable in disgrace, joyful in adversity, strong in weakness, and lively in the very point of death; this to persuade men to, were to make the world wonder: So that it is clear, that the most part of men are incredulous in this matter of the heart's happiness. There be many that will confess that there is but God, and that the Father is the Creator of the world, that Jesus Christ is the Redeemer, and the holy Ghost the Sanctifier, which notwithstanding will affirm it to be a great presumption for any man to be assured of any happiness in God or in Christ, which is all one as to deny both God and Christ; for no man truly and experimentally knoweth God, but he which is established in him as the only good of his heart and soul.  
But to let such pass, which in opinion deny such assurance, let us consider how grossly they fail, which do in opinion allow of the possibility of this assurance: for though many may be found which do confess that it is possible to come to such an assurance and happiness in God, yet will they not believe, but that this assurance is up and down according to their working, better or worse; neither will they believe that the peace of the heart standeth in the soul's communion with God, but that it dependeth upon such evidences as they have drawn from the conformity of their wills, affections and actions, to their literal knowledge; so that it cometh to pass that none are so unbelieving in this point of the heart's happiness, as those which have acquired a brain full of verbal knowledge, with which they are puffed up. Infidelity being the ground of this deceit, let us consider how it worketh; the manner how it worketh is by a proud puffing up the heart in a very high conceit of what it hath acquired, and this pride is supported by two deceitful props.  
The first is conceit of things future and to come.  
The second is neglect of things present, which we thus declare.  
Infidelity possessing the heart, hence proceedeth pride, stoutly opposing the heart's happiness, with one of these two arguments following. That is, either like Corah and that company, they tell the sons of Levi they take too much upon them, to discourse of so high and transcendent a subject as the Peace and Happiness of the Heart, or else in a Scripture-learnednesse, and a verbal knowledge they labour to maintain as the only happiness of the heart, that estate and condition in which they stand, for not having grace to humble themselves to the true annihilating of their acquired and put on forms of knowledge, it must of necessity follow, that they must defend that estate in which they stand; the props or supports of this condition, and bold maintaining, are as before is said.  
First, a conceit of future things, for when a man doth truly look into his spiritual estate, and so examineth the fullness of his heart, he presently findeth a want and an emptiness of contentment, yea, in the midst of all external fullness; but now he in this estate of emptiness, doth befool himself, persuading himself that it shall be well with him, when he shall have accomplished such and such projects as his mind intendeth: And thus he putteth off this present time in expectation of future good, which is nothing else but the malice of Satan against our Heart's happiness.  
The second prop upholding the infidelity and pride of our Hearts, is neglect of examination of our present condition and estate, for the most part of men are seldom drawn to enter into a true examination of their own condition, and so it cometh to pass, that they conceit themselves happy in a hapless condition.  
Thus we see the heart's deceit in the conceit of happiness, the ground of it Infidelity, the manner how it worketh, by pride, the props of its support, conceit of things future, and neglect of things present.   

CHAP. VI The mystical cloak or covering wherewith the heart is most strongly deluded concerning this happiness.  
HAving showed in the former Chapter, that the Heart is deceived in the conceit of Happiness, (and that most commonly by one of these two deceits, either a vain confidence in things to come, or by a careless neglect of the present condition) it shall be necessary that we now come to show a third and a more mystical manner of deceit, than yet we have touched. And this I the rather signify in a Chapter by itself; partly because it requireth a large dilation, and would have the former Chapter overlong; and partly because it is more proper to some people than the former deceits, being spun in a small thread, and so very mystically deceiving, as shall be showed.  
We read in Holy Writ of a mystery of godliness, and that is Christ manifested in the flesh: we read also of a mystery of iniquity, and that is a fleshly manifestation of Christ; for, as the true manifestation of Christ in the flesh is a godly and a great mystery, so a feigned and a false manifestation of Christ is a great yet a fleshly mystery; and if there be a mystery of iniquity, no marvel if Satan mystically cloak the minds and hearts of men, that they should not perceive the truth of true happiness.  
But in short, to tell what this mystical cloak and covering is, which so strongly deludeth our heart's happiness, it is a fair, yet a false flourish of religious exercises. Many things there be with which the heart of man is deceived, but none may be compared to this, in respect of the close and crafty deceiving, which in it is contained. In the declaring whereof, let us observe three things.  
First, the truth of the assertion, that a flourish of religious exercise is a special deceiver of man's heart of the true happiness.  
Secondly, let us consider the reason of this religious deceit.  
Thirdly, we shall note the manner how it worketh to deceive the Heart's happiness. That religious exercise do deceive men of their heart's happiness, seemeth at the first a very strange position; for it rather seemeth that sensuality, and fleshly pleasures and profits do deceive men, then religious exercises, for too few, God knoweth, will some say, are religiously exercised.  
To which I answer: It is true, that very few are religiously exercised, if we speak of Religion, and religious exercises, as they are in truth and indeed in the account of Almighty God, who is that true Kardiognostes, and searcher of the heart. Nor are any deceived with the truth of Religion, for it is nothing else but God in Man, conforming man to his own Image of righteousness and true holiness. Now God cannot deceive: but that there is an exercise of Religion seeming true, which becometh the strong deceiver, and most mystical deluder of our happiness, is the Proposition that is affirmed, and remaineth to be proved.  
Let us now come to the proof of this point, considering it first in the rude and sensual multitude, and then in the more seeming religious, and we shall evidently perceive that the religious exercises of men do most strongly deceive and delude the Heart of happiness; the rude multitude of sensual livers, whose belly is their best god, & which in truth of heart do no sacrifice but to Bacchus, Apollo, or Venus, etc. these I say, are not so much deceived of heart's happiness by their sensual exercises (though by them they be hindered) as they are by the exercises of their Religion, such as it is, better or worse; for in that they have the name of Christians put upon them in Baptism, and for as much as they do often repeat the Lords Prayer, the Apostles Creed and the ten Commandments, and in that they come sometimes to divine Service, and to hear a preaching upon God's good Sunday (as they say:) and seeing that at Easter they do receive their Riteings or the Lord's Supper: Hence it is that these people will not be persuaded, but that their condition is most happy, and he that goeth about to discover their hapless estate, undertaketh a most fruitless undertaking.  
Now, did not these men perform any exercise of Religion, it were much more easy in the eye of reason, to persuade such men that their case were miserable and wretched; but now when any man reprehendeth their vain condition, and bewrayeth their vanity, they by and by fly to the Castle of their religious exercise, and in it they shrowded themselves, as being equal in profession with the best of Christians, and quid ultra, what needeth any more? But God forgive me, or the like abrupt ejaculations: and if such men as these have after some drunken fit, or after some fearful blasphemous Oaths, any inward dejection of spirit, though far short of Ahab, both in nature and time, than they conclude themselves very penitent persons; and thus they set up themselves in their religious condition: As well may a man persuade these men that they are not men, as persuade them that they are not true believers, and in a most happy condition: if it were possible to persuade these men that they are irreligious and unbelieving, and that they were of their father the Devil, whose work they do, than were they in the way towards happiness: but the first is not likely, therefore not the second.  
Thus in the very rude multitude we see that religious exercise doth most strongly deceive; it was the too much confidence the Ephesians had of their Diana, that kept them from the receiving the faith of Christ, even so it is at this day with many, they have a form of believing, and of serving God, which secretly they do adore and worship, accounting it so good, and so great a Diana, or God-service, that they neither can nor will receive any light of truth. It is strange to consider how contrary men are to themselves, for it is every man's opinion, and conceit, that faith without works is a dead faith, and no faith, and this is most true, notwithstanding these men themselves living most ungodlily and wickedly, will not acknowledge that they want faith, nor hear that they are unbelievers; so strongly are they conceited of their Faith and Religion. It was a good saying of Alexander Severus, and some others, that the best learning was to unlearne what was learned amiss; so I say, that it were the best lesson for all seeming religious men, to unlearn their faith and religion, and to acknowledge it for no faith, and no Religion.  
But to pass from this demonstration drawn from the profane multitude, in whom this truth is least apparent, let us come to consider it in the more precisely religious, and it will appear that by how much more men have been strictly exercised to the view of the world, by so much more they have been deceived. Of all the people in the world the Jews were most religiously exercised, and amongst them the Pharisees were most devout; yet Christ telleth the Jews, that they did not know the things which concerned their peace. The Pharisees had a good opinion of their Religion, as is plain in him that would give God thanks, that he was not as other men were, and yet for all this they received not Christ the Son of Peace, without which no true peace can be established. And as of old so in these our days, those that are most devout and forward in the exercises of Religion, are in that their performance most mystically deceived in this point of true peace. The Papists, and the most devour amongst them, the Jesuits, plainly show, that they have no inward peace, in that they daily plot so many policies to augment their degrees of preferment, whereas if they were at peace in the inwards of their hearts, than had they preferment enough, though in never so low a condition.  
Hence it is, that they as we, and we as they, run from opinion to opinion, and can abide in no condition with any content, because we have not this inward peace of the heart: Hence spring all Sects and all divisions amongst both Papists and Protestants.  
And to conclude this point, it is most apparent, even amongst us both Preachers and Professors, (which to ourselves, and to the eye of the world, seem most religiously exercised) that we have no peace; for though we in the secrets of our heart's praise God, that he hath called us from our vanities; and that he hath made us to abhor those vices, in the which our neighbours do wallow and tumble, and so bless ourselves in a conceit of a better estate; notwithstanding it is most clear, that the true peace of the heart we have not known, in so much, that every one of us (for the most part) do seek ourselves, and our own ends in all our courses: and are glad to patch and piece out our contentments with gain and glory, and vain boasting of our own praises, oftentimes opening our mouths against others, secretly begging commendations to ourselves.  
And more than all this, we must have our dishes, our dainties, and our sweet morsels to support our empty hearts, yea, our possessions must be enlarged, our buildings must be beautified, and too little to satisfy our restless souls, and which do clearly show, that though we have a Religion that speaks of peace, yet our Hearts are not established in the God of peace; for were the soul once at rest, and so the heart made truly happy in God, then as we did enjoy one thing above all, so should we enjoy all things in one, and in that one thing would all other things be contemned as dung, and as things of no esteem; but this earthly hungering showeth the Heart's emptiness in all.  
Now what hath deceived us? even our conceit of the goodness of our Religion.  
Quest. But some will demand a reason, why religious exercises do so mystically deceive?  
Answ. To which question I thus answer: The Lord according to his divine wisdom, hath seated in all men a certain Character of his divine power, which divine power seated in man's soul, doth hinder man's heart from contentment in any created good, and doth cause the soul to reaspire to that summum bonum, the chief good in God himself.  
Hence it cometh to pass, that man is easily persuaded, that his chief good doth not consist in any natural or bodily parts, or sensual exercises, though through strength of sensuality man be wholly, for the most part, sensually exercised.  
The truth of this is plain, in the confession of most profane and ungodly, who in words do express that their hope is in God above all, unto which they are forced by the power aforesaid. Now when man in the power of the natural conscience, and by virtue of this divine Character is forced to fly from all its sensual pleasures, as unable to give it any contentment, than he leaneth upon the reed of his Religion, such as it is, better or worse; if his religious exercises be more cold or neuterly, than his conceit, and so his decit is so much the less; if his religious exercise be more devout and zealous, than his conceit and deceit is more strong, for as much pride doth always attend such verbal knowledge, and bodily exercises.  
But lest some should stagger at this doctrine, as though the overthrow of all religious exercises were intended; and as if all religious exercises may deceive; I will therefore show how this false flourish of religious exercise doth deceive, and so conclude, how that the body and truth of Religion, neither doth nor can deceive.  
The manner how this religious flourish doth deceive, is by reason of that sympathy and agreement; which is in part between such bodily exercises, and the true Religion: But more especially in respect of that sympathy, which is between such bodily services, and that natural disposition to Religion, which is in every man's heart; for, (as before was said) there is by reason of the divine Character in man's soul, a disposition to adore, or worship somewhat, as more supreme or excellent than itself.  
Now man's understanding being dark, yea, darkness itself, man doth entertain such a form of religious exercise, as it seemeth best to the dark and blind reason, being spurred on by that spark of Divinity which remaineth in the Soul, or Conscience; notwithstanding this reason (which is dark) being set a work by the instinct of nature, is never able to reach any sound or supernatural truth, although it should by literal learning, and Clerklike cunning, dive never so deep into Scripture-learnednesse; but contrariwise it reacheth a form of knowledge, and a form of bodily working, and worship, ship, either this way or that way, as it seemeth best to every man's reason and judgement, to understand the Scripture learning: For, though all Sects say, they will be guided by the Word of Truth, yet is the Word of Truth one as God is one, and they may according to their several constructions of Scriptures, and conceits of their own wisdom, seem to make good their opinion; all which forms of religious exercises of knowing and obeying (being comprehensible to man's reason) do carry in them a certain likeness unto that natural disposition which is in man, to be religious: so man in this estate and condition is still in the outward Court of bodily Service, having more or less zeal of GOD, but not according to knowledge, that is, not according to that supernatural knowledge which cometh from above, called by S. James wisdom: neither do any such bodily works know God according to the very truth.  
It is life eternal, to know God, and Jesus Christ whom he hath sent; But this knowledge is not in speculation, or verbal discourse; but it is the power of God making known to the soul, that power of love which passeth understanding; for God is love, and he that knoweth God, knoweth love, and he which loveth not, knoweth not God. 1 John 4.8. This knowledge of God, is wrought by the finger of God in the emptying of the soul, of putten-on forms of knowledge, which are according to the darkness of natural understanding; and by making high things low, & the soul that is rich poor, in the best of her performance; so that now the soul is naked and stripped of all her natural power; is brought to the carcase and body of truth; God himself without figure or form, not knowable to the understanding; (which judgeth only of species) but by act of communion made known to the soul, in the experimental acquaintance; which the understanding perceiveth not by discoursing of it, but by being subdued in it. This man having acquaintance with God, his heart is established with grace, not with meats: he knoweth the secrets of the Kingdom of God; which are to many Clerks great parables: and so is this man truly resolved, that the Kingdom of God cometh not by observation, nor consisteth in meat, or drink, but in righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. This is that Body of Religion, which deceiveth none; and is received but of some.   

CHAP. 7. Showing the Symptoms of the conceited happiness.  
But that the conceit, & deceit of the heart, may more fully appear; let us consider, what be the signs of such supposed peace. The signs of this supposed happiness, are no less divers, then are the degrees of such false persuasions: for as men are more or less in the degrees of this false persuasion (according to the degrees of their literal knowledge and bodily working) so do they give several signs & Symptoms, of their heart's deceit: all which (respecting brevity) I shall comprehend under four heads. First, a more gross sensual life. Secondly, a more close sensual life. Thirdly, a verbal vain boasting of Religion. Fourthly, a most excessive exercise, and bodily performance, in things religious, together with mutation, in the forms of such services.  
The first sign to be conceived, (which is the gross sensual life) is most proper to the vain and profane multitude; for albeit, they have (as hath been showed) a form of religious Exercise, wherein nuterly and coldly (at certain times) they exercise themselves; and in which performance, they place their hope of happiness: yet it is most plain, that the way of peace they never knew, seeing their more than bruitlesse life, is so visible to all men. Some of them prosecuting their humours with most fearful and blasphemous Oaths, calling into their carnal minds, the parts and passions of our Saviour Christ, as his body, blood, wounds, &c, together, with a most profane using of he name of the most high God; nor being satisfied with this blasphemy, they dare proceed to higher impiety, in swearing by the Creatures, and most commonly by which is least known of men, namely the soul, a fearful sin, yet very common in these Northern parts; and that which doth aggravate this their sin, is the carnal occasion them hereunto moving, (meeting them amongst their pots, and pot-Companions) which to name, were needles, & endless. To this we may add that worldly wollowing of the common worldlings in all sensual pleasures; eating till gluttony, and drinking till drunkenness. Others in their apparel, braving it, and outbraving it; not only according to, but much exceeding their means, though still short, of their ambitious minds. Others there be, which persecute their luxurious and beastly pleasures, in which they manifest the emptiness of their hearts. Thus in short, the common profaneness of the rude multitude, doth plainly show that there is no peace established in the heart, seeing that (notwithstanding their religious exercises) they lie drowned in sensuality; in which secretly, their hearts seek, and (for a while) find peace, And here let us note by the way that the emptiness of man's heart, in the want of God, is the spur to all profaneness, and ungodliness whatsoever; whether more gross, or more close. The second Symptom or sign, of the heart's emptiness; is a more close sensual life, and this is to be applied to the civil honest man, and to the most part of the verbal professors of Religion; for it is true, that some men, partly for fear, and partly for shame, do take the bit of reason into their mouths; and with the reins of discretion, they bridle, and refrain the grosser part of sensuality: so that the world can not tax them of whordoms, drunkenness, blasphemies, etc. notwithstanding, those which have eyes enlightened by the light of grace, may plainly see and perceive, that these men live in a very sensual life: But it is more closely and covertly, than the profane man doth; for some are wise to do evil saith the Prophet, and such are all close sensual livers, who by crafty wiles work their wickedness. These close sensual livers declare the love of their hearts, to the sensual objects by secret selfseeking, in all matters of moment and high consequence; for (if we mark them) they do cunningly steal praise and commendations to themselves, and underneath communicate with increase of riches, sumptuous buildings, & curious diet; in all which the peace of their heart standeth, & not in God: and but that these things are maintained to the contentment of their sensual appetites; their hearts would break with grief and sorrow, through the emptiness thereof. And though these (wise men) carry their sensual life so close, that they are not so commonly perceived as the gross sensualls are: yet doth it so fare appear (to the godly wise) as to bewray the emptiness of their hearts, in God and in Christ; and often times, God doth discover these Hypocrites, that they shall drink either to drunkenness, or to fullness; and some times their close-carried luxury, breaketh out to a public declaring; wherein the contentment and peace of their hearts did stand when they seemed to the world to be at rest in God. This close sensual life is a manifest sign of the heart's emptiness. The third sign, is a vain glorious b●asting in religious performances; such as are public prayer, and Thanksgiving, reasoning and disputing of Religion, framing of a sorrowful countenance, pitiful forms of speech, abrupt ejaculations, smiting of the breast, rolling of the eyes upward towards Heaven, with a passionate moving of the hand; to which is annexed many a sigh and groan, Rom. 8.26. which are not those inutterable ones, proceeding from the spirit; But those Pharisaical ones, proceeding from vain glory.  
Thus, the body being artificially framed, and all the members and motions thereof, fitly composed to a (seeming-holy) declaring of a very zealous condition: Now the corruptions of the time are blamed, the Antichristian Government of the Church is condemned, the condition of the profane is highly adjudged, and in all this, himself secretly justified.  
Now though such things (as I have named) do (in the nature thereof) arise and proceed from true zeal, yet do they carry the party into his private Chamber or closet, or other secret place, where the soul doth inwardly mourn, for the corruptions of itself and others, Jer. 13.17. as witnesseth the Prophet in a phrase worth the noting.  
Our Saviour Christ doth in express words, forbidden the sad countenance, and the disfiguring of the face, and doth appoint secrecy as the upper place of all religious performance. Mat. 6.16. For well knew our Saviour Christ, that, that heart, which was full in God, needed not the echo of vain glory to supply its want. But the truth is, that all such frothy, and windy foolishness, is a plain declaring of the heart's emptiness. For then do Hogsheads sound loudest, when they have least within them. The fourth and last sign, is an excessive exercise of religious performance; together, with the mutation of such exercises.  
And this St. Paul did perceive to be the very God of some men in his time, and therefore telleth Tymothy, (that he might instruct others) that bodily exercise profiteth little, and as some read nothing, and doth oppose thereunto godliness; 1 Tim. 4.8. as being another thing then bodily exercise, & saith that it is profitable, etc.  
But such is the mystery of iniquity at this day, that many men know no other godliness, but bodily exercises, and can hardly admit of any distinction between them.  
These bodily exercises, & the excess thereof is manifest to be manifold, in all sects and sorts; such as is their often fasting, often seeming to pray, (I say) seeming, for many pray, and pray not, because prayer is nothing else but the conference of the soul with God (as well saith St. Augustine.) To this we may add the bareing of the knees, the putting on a shirt of hair, whipping, scourging, much preaching to the wasting of the spirits, and consuming of the body, and this is called a constant performance of duties.  
These exercises are mutable and variable, according to men's knowledge, and the stream and strain of that Ministry under which they live, so that all sorts have their several services, yet all bodily, and for the most part only bodily.  
And it must needs be so, for men having no rest nor peace in God, do labour to establish a peace to themselves in the multiplicity of bodily exercises: hence it is, that if they omit their service, they have no peace all that day, and if they perform their devotions, than they have peace, whereby it is plain, that their peace is only in bodily working.  
And it cometh to pass, that so many gawdies must be run over, so many prayers and repetitions must be used, so many Chapters must be read, so many Psalms sung, etc. or otherwise the heart is unquiet.  
Now these men hearing of any new way of worship, (which cometh in the cloak of Scripture-learning, and hath a show of truth founded from the letter of the bible) which worship seemeth more devout and zealous, then that in which they are established, as it will easily so appear, to a zealous and devout bodily worker; especially if the teacher of that new way, can but frame a sad and demure countenance, and with a grace lift his hand, and his eye towards Heaven, with some strong groan in the declaring of his newly conceived opinion, and that he frequently used this phrase, of the glory of God, etc. these men I say are by and by of another opinion, supposing to themselves; that God hath made known some further truth unto them; for they are unestablished in any way, and are constrained to taste of all waters, if they be zealous in the bodily workings: for of such I speak, and not of profane worldlings, nor of lukewarm professors, but of devout zealousnes; such as have a zeal of God, but not conform to knowledge.  
Now all this excessive bodily working, and the varieties thereof, do plainly show and declare the emptiness of the heart: for as much as the true worship of God is more inward and spiritual, as God himself is a spirit. The true service of God, is in a profound silence, and inward intention towards God, declared (to God) by groans which partly the soul cannot, and partly it will not express.  
And if this truly devout soul fall into any bodily exercise, (as often it doth) such as is the uttering of the mind to God, by vocal terms; then is he in his Chamber or place of most private repose, and his door shut, or at least himself hid from the eyes of men, as much as may be.  
And if by his place or degree in the Church, or Family, he be urged to perform duties Religious, either more or less public; then in such performance, be laboureth more to forget such affected gestures and actions (as is the sadness of the countenance, etc.) then any way to frame his body thereunto, and so serveth God in more depth of spirit, and heart-cleaving to the love of truth.  
Hence it cometh to pass, that when the bodily performers behold this man's service, they by and by judge him weak, or cold in religious exercises: but the wise in heart perceive that he is inward with God.   

CHAP. 8. The heart's progression towards true happiness.  
NOw in the eight place, we are to consider the progression, or going forward of the heart to true happiness: in the handling whereof, we are to observe a very special and peculiar difference, between this eight Chapter and all the former; for all the former parts have their use and exercise in a natural man; but this (and consequently all that follow) is proper to the elect Children of God; for thus the case standeth, that the natural motion of the heart (declared in the second Chapter) doth press mainly towards rest: but it is so violently interrupted, and hindered by the enemy Satan, (in the subtle use of those Engines (the objects of our senses, and fantasies spoken of in the fifth Chapter) that the heart (of the natural man) can never find any out-gate from his sensualities, and formalities, or make any progression to any properly called supernatural good: but sticketh still in one created good or another; either more grossly or more closely to a sensual life, or at least standeth inlived in the bodily performance of some religious exercise, according as it hath been declared in the Symptoms of the conceited happiness, Chap: 7. but contrariwise the heart moved by the finger of God, though for a time it may be hindered by created contentments (as was Solomon) yet at the last, it breaketh out (as a prisoner from the prison) from all those things wherein it was ensnared. And as a Ship, having a fair wind, weigheth Anchor, and delayeth not; so the soul, in feeling a sweet jail of grace, filling her sail (which is desire) doth put forward for a more happy Haven, than yet she hath been acquainted withal.  
And this is the progression of the heart toward true happiness. In handling whereof let us consider 4. things.  
First, the truth of the assertion, that there is such a progression.  
Secondly, in the nature of it, and wherein it doth consist.  
Thirdly, the consimilitude that is between this man and a natural man, before this Progression.  
Fourthly, the dissimilitude that is between this man, and all such as have not entered their foot into this progression. For the first, that there is such a progression, and out-going of the heart from sensuality, etc. it is most clear in Solomon, who for a time did wallow and sport himself in all sensual delights, and in them expected a rest to his soul; but at the last was forced to confess, that all is but vexation of the spirit; he maketh progression toward the fear and love of God, as his book of retractions doth declare.  
The prodigal Son did for a time seek contentments in vanity, at the last set sail towards his Father's house: St. Paul doth not unaptly point at such a progression, when in the Philipians he saith, Phil. 3.13. he did forget those things which were behind, and did reach forth unto those things which were before.  
And though in special manner he hath respect in that place to the degrees of Christianity, and in the further conforming of the man to the Image of Christ: yet cannot Paul have forgotten, that out-going of his heart from all that fleshly and worldly glory, wherein (according to the flesh) he had cause to rejoice, verse 4. of that third Chapter: doth that place give a slender confirmation of this truth, where Paul saith, that when he was a Child, he spoke as a Child, etc. But when he came to be a Man, he put away Childishness?  
The truth of this expression is so well known (to the soul experienced in the truth of Godliness) that it needeth no proof: and the Mystery of it is so great ●nd so fare above the natural ●an, that it is altogether hyperbolical and incredible.  
The second point is to show the ●ature of this progression, what 〈◊〉 is, and it standeth in two ●hings.  
First, the putting off of all conceits, and comprehensible ●ood.  
Secondly, in putting on pure ●esire towards the unknown and comprehensible good.  
For the first. The Child of God is brought to a true dissilence, & distract in all his carnal, ●nd created confidence, whether ●hey were sensual pleasures, or external religious exercises, or ●oth.  
And as we read of the Snake, that creeping through a hedge, she leaveth her skin behind her: even so the Christian heart i● truly stripped of all putten-on contentments, either in this thing, or in that thing; and so is become truly poor, miserable, and naked; so that notwithstanding, he could say, a● St. Paul; If any man have caus● to rejoice in the flesh, much more l● yet will this man glory in nothing save only in infirmities, & that to the shame and confusion of his own face: And thus will the King's Daughter he forsaketh his Father's house, and with Abraham leaveth his native Country, to seek dwelling in a Land, as yet unknown.  
The second point is putting on of desire. The poor soul beaten, (by the ministry of Christ) out of its contentments; is now dissolved into desire, and is nothing else in sensuality, but pure intention, and as the heart brayeth for the River of water, so longeth this soul for God, and to be known of him, whom she knoweth not. And thus (as the spouse) sick with ●ove, and ravished with desire, she seeks him whom her soul ●oveth.  
In this strength of desire, all o●her desires and intentions are ●rowned; so that this soul hath ●o entertainment for carnal and ●eshly desires, but such as in cold ●nd careless, as being much more ●illing to be freed of them, than 〈◊〉 be exercised in them.  
And as it is with natural men, ●eir religious desires are cold, ●d the desires of profits and, ●easures, do drown all divine ●tentions: so is it on the other side with the soul of the Christian where he entereth his foot into his heavenly progression. But some will say, what doth this soul desire? I answer, that which is unknowable, even God himself.  
Thirdly, we are to consider the equality that is between this man (in this progression, that is to say, before he undertaketh it) and a mere natural man.  
Now to speak, as the truth is, he is as like to a natural (before this progression) as one egg is like another; for, the souls of al● men, both elect and reprobate● are in the same condition, empt● of the true good, and naturals moving towards true happiness as was showed in the seco● Chapter; so that till the Arme● of the Lord be revealed, (brin●ing the souls of his people out of all created contentment) the Children of God and the Children of the world, do answer each other in a true sympathy, & consimilitude of like condition.  
Fourthly and lastly, we are to note the dissimilitude and difference, that is between the Child of God (after he is entered into this progression) and the natural man.  
There was not more consimilitude than contrariety; for the Child of God in this Estate, surpasseth the natural man, in the object of his desire, seeing he aspireth to nothing under God himself, so transcendent is his desire.  
This man laboureth to know ●hat which passeth knowledge; ●nd his chief care is, to beat down the working of his wit, and to keep his understanding from curiosity of speculation, as knowing it to be a great hindrance to the act of his soul's Communion with God.  
Hence it cometh to pass, that this man is a wonder to the world and to all Sectaries, for they have all their knowledge, such as they can in reason comprehend, which maketh them such apt disputers and cunning cavillers, and causeth so much division, and accomplisheth so many Sects. Also in the degree of desire, the man in this Progression, differeth much from a natural man; for this man's desire is most strong, yea stronger than death, and most constant without variety of objects; and so is his understanding drowned in this one thing whereunto hi● heart presseth: so that variety of particular questions are most grievous and burdensome unto him. But tontrarily all natural men, yea, the greatest of our literal professors, they are occupied in and about so many particulars of knowledge, that, that Ministry which is exercised about this one thing, and terminateth all in one, is unto them as ridiculous, as the song of the Cuckoo.  
Notwithstanding he which is the truth, said, there is one thing needful. And as the natural man's intentions are variable, so are they weak (in comparison of the godly man's desire;) for according to that opinion of Philosophy, strength united is more strong. So than it must of necessity follow, that that man which is withdrawn from many things, and hath his desires bend wholly in one thing, hath a more forcible and strong intention; as in our English Proverb, he that hath many Irons in the fire, must cool some of them; so those men which mind many things, have less fervour in all their intentions, and also less constancy. But the Child of God (once entered into this out-going and progression) marcheth valiantly in the degree● thereof; till at the last he come to that happy Haven, God himself, as it is to be showed in the 11. Chapter.   

CHAP. 9 The heart's farewell to all false flattery.  
THe heart resolving such a progression towards true happiness, (in this out-going from ●t self, and all comprehensible good) doth now take her optimum & ultimum vale, her last & best farewell, of all those flattering deceits, wherewith she was detained & kept from this aspiring towards ●he true good. And here (as in the eight Chap:) & in the rest which ●ollow, we must remember that we speak of things proper, and peculiar to the people of God, who (as Eagles) do follow the carcase of Christ himself, in whom dwelleth that Soul of truth, God himself bodily. A man resolved to go into some strange Country (and that with purpose never to return) cannot but have (within himself) a great conflict in this resolution, to forsake friends, acquaintance, etc. But at the last (being strong in resolution) he biddeth them all farewell: Even so it is with the Child of God, intending this progession; For to his flesh it is grievous to part with profits, & pleasures, natural wisdom, and humane speculations; so dear unto nature are all sensull and rational acquaintance, till at the last, (as Theologically saith that Divine poet Dubartas of Abraham in the forsaking of his Country) he concludeth, it must be so, for so the Lord commands; A carnal man or carnal stands; But for all reason, faith sufficeth me; who lodgeth with God, shall never houselesse be. But that this farewell may more plainly appear, we will particularly consider in it three things.  
First, the things whereof he taketh his leave or farewell.  
Secondly, the manner how he taketh his leave.  
Thirdly, the arguments where upon he groundeth this his resolution.  
The first is twofold, that is, first from sensual things; Secondly rational contentments. The sensual contentments do for a long time detain and retain the heart of man; And that by reason of the variety of that vanity, in our subtle and diabolical invention: So that our heart as a ball is tossed to and fro from vanity to vanity, through our manifold inventions, as with so many several rackets, & can find no rest. Thus was it with Solomon, in the time of his vanities, till at last he found all vanity to be vexation of this spirit; then did he take his farewell of such Sensuality. And this was the case of the prodigal Son; but at the last he did take his farewell & went towards his Father's house. This forsaking of Sensuality, is called a mortifying of the Members, and a killing the deeds of the body. And though this forsaking of sensuality, and sinful pleasure, be a thing grievous to flesh & blood, yet is all such contentments, contemned of the man in this progression, and he casts them of● as dung, or as dog's meat: & in the resolution of his heart, voweth to have no more cohabitation with such Companions. And having taken his leave of this false friend sensuality, it may be, he doth for a while stay in the Wilderness, of mortality, civility, or religious formality, in some or all of them, as to his reason seemeth best.  
This man while he here stayeth, may be said to be come from Egypt, of beastly and brutish sensuality; but yet this man is fare remote from Canaan the land of rest.  
Now while man is established in any of these ways, I judge him to be as it were in the Wilderness of rational contentment. I call it rational, because the reason of man doth conduct hjm in●o this way, of what kind soever ●t be, if it be passed sensual; but in ●he sensual reason is no guide, but only blind affection, pricked forward by the organical power of the sensual exercise. And this rational condition, I the rather call a Wilderness, because, as in a Wilderness, men often lose themselves, and can find no way out; but supposing (after long travel) that they are near the place where they intent, are in truth further off; so it fareth with many, yea with all such as walk in the way of reason and humane understanding, they lose themselves in the woods & bushes of their deep and learned speculations, so that the longer they travel, the further they are from God and rest in him.  
This rational Habitation is also twofold, in respect of the subject matter, in and about which it is occupied, viz. humane or divine. And in taking a farewell of both these parts of the rational contentment; in this especially doth the Child of God outstrip the natural and verbal professor. For the natural prefessor (for so I call all brainsick disputers) taketh a cold farewell of the sensual life only, or rather he exchangeth his gross sensual life into a more close sensual life; and communing partly in conceit, and partly in truth, out of the fleshly and sensual life, he now ariveth in the Haven of some speculation or knowledge, either in things humane or divine, or in both: So that this man (by virtue of his knowledge) can dispute and reason of the outward and bodily part of God's worship: he can discourse of white and black, round and square, of kneeling and subscribing, and run an infinite discourse against Antichristian Government: and this rational discourse he calleth the language of Canaan; Indeed so it is the language of Canaan: for other land of rest his heart knoweth not, than what ariseth from these things wherein he is established. This speculation is his summum bonum, and from this his knowledge and his working, he deducteth notes and marks of his unfit faith (and real fidelity) supposing and imagining, that he believeth, which faith never faileth him, till he stand in need of it.  
But the true Christian taketh his farewell, as of the sensuality, so of all rational contentments, and biddeth all comprehensibleness farewell, as being too weak and unworthy for his soul to have society withal. And so becometh more strong in desire, then curious in speculation, and longeth more to feel communion with God, then to be able to dispute of the genus or species of any question humane or divine, and thus in depth of desire, is humbled in the highest degree of knowledge, and presseth to know God in powerful experience.  
This man doth no longer commit sacrilege or spiritual whotedome in the secret of his heart, either with knowing or doing, (though his knowledge be great, and his obedience surpassing many) but is truly nullifyed and made nothing, and so is become a fool in all fleshly wisdom, having nothing to glory in, but only the Lord.  
Secondly, we are to consider, the manner how the heart taketh this farewell, from the sensual and rational life.  
It is not by going out of either, but metaphorically; that is, the heart denieth to receive any contentment from either of them. We are to know that the Christian can use the Objects of his senses, as though he used them not; and so the world, and the things in the world; he being in the inwards of his heart, truly gone, and separated (in his affections) from all created good. So that this man doth not Stoically refuse the lawful liberty of any Creature that God hath made; but whereas before they were as Lords over him, and as Gods to him, now he is Lord over all Creatures, which God hath given him for his use, and himself truly subject to God in Christ. Nor doth he madly despise the use of reason, or contemn the exercise of the understanding (as some would infer) but now he useth reason, and art as only handmaids and attendants to Divinity and Divine knowledge; and so keepeth reason under, that if (with Hagar) it will be bearing rule, he in the wisdom of God like Sarah will cast it out from having any Dominion. So that this man doth use his reason to confute, and confound the Arguments of them, that would have reason Lord over our faith, and such as would establish reason as the chief good.  
And now (this man's reason being subdued) he is ten times more reasonable than he was before, for now his reason doth keep her true lists and limits. So hath reason her true use in all species, and comprehensible things, in which she sits in man as Lord; and also (in respect of her subjection) there is a free passage for the soul in pure a●t, to breath unto God in strength of desire, and so to communicate with him as he shall be pleased to reveal in his own time.  
This humble use of reason hath St. Paul respect unto, when he confoundeth faith and reason, making them both as one, 2 Thes. 3.2. for than is reason one with faith, when it is subjugated to faith; otherwise faith is a thing above reason.  
We see then that the Christian farewell to the sensual and rational life is not absolutely to be considered, but respectively. It is not a shortening of a man's life, to avoid the world, nor a refusing the use of means, to rectify reason.  
The 3. and last point to be considered, is the Arguments whereupon the heart resolveth this farewell. The Arguments are deducted from privation; for the heart considereth what it hath lost, and it findeth that the lost is no Creature, nor any comprehensible thing, but a Creator most incomprehensible; so that the heart must needs pass from every other thing, and reaspire to that which it hath lost.  
Secondly, the want of comfort in all other things wherein the heart hath been established; for thus the heart or soul reasoneth against her. 2. Enemies: sensuality, and rational formality. You never could give me any stable contentment, etc. ergo, I must needs bid you farewell, etc. So that the Arguments moving this farewell, are very forcible, as may be showed in the amplification of them; but I'll leave it to be understood: But lest we should deceive ourselves in the conceit of this farewell, (remaining still on our old condition) I shall in the next Chapter declare the signs and Symptoms of this farewell.   

CHAP. 10. Showing the signs of the Christian farewell.  
HAving declared this farewell, it remaineth in the tenth place, to show the signs and symptoms thereof. For such is the nature of man, that he no sooner heareth that such a farewell should be undertaken; but by and by he conceiteth, that it is in him accomplished; although he be more firmly, and unmovably settled, (in these things which he should forsake) then formerly he hath been. That the signs may better appear, we are to remember three things which are forsaken, viz. the sensual and the rational life, as in the former Chapter: for the Symptoms of the forsaking, have reference and agreement to things that are forsaken.  
First, let us speak of the signs of the sensual forsaking, and ●hey are in number three. The ●irst is the withdrawing of our hearts, from the exercise. I say the withdrawing of the heart; for though man's senses be still exercised in and upon their proper objects, yet is not the life sensual; for the heart taketh no contentment from any such exercise; but is still (for the most part) exercised in a more transcendent Communion, even with God and Christ; whereas the sensual ever hath his heart's contentment from his sensual and sinful exercises, and other contentment hath he none, insomuch, that when such pleasure and profits fail him; his very heart doth fail, and his soul is filled with heaviness But the man which hath taken his farewell from the sensual life, receiveth no cordial content from any sensual exercises whatsoever.  
This withdrawing of the heart is not unaptly pointed at in the speech of the spouse, Cant. 5.2. I (saith she) sleep, but my heart waketh: so it may be said of the true Christian; he is sleeping, looking, hearing, tasting, eating, drinking, feasting, etc. but his heart is withdrawn, and is rejoicing in God his Saviour, and his soul is magnifying the Lord. Contrariwise, those men, whose hearts are not thus withdrawn, they are so drowned in their sensual exercises; that they forget both God and his people, as the Prophet Amos doth signify unto us at large, Amos 6. vers. 3.4.5.6. but the man whose heart hath entered into the forsaking of sensuality, hath his only content in God, as is aforesaid.  
The second sign of this farewell, is the true content, that this man taketh in hearing his sensual life reproved in every particular, yea, though he knew himself particularly spoken to; this man loveth the rod of correction, and can most kindly kiss both the reproof and the reprover, and that not with the hypocritical kiss of Judas, as some who will seem to kiss reprehension, till they see opportunity, to be revenged of the reprover, to whom they secretly say in heart, as Ahab did, have I found thee oh mine enemy. I need not stand to amplify, how unwillingly sensual sinners entertain reproof; the common unkindness which all faithful reprovers find at their hands; as also the usual advancement and preferment of flatterers, and time-servers, is a sufficient demonstration, how ill they brook reprehension. But it is far otherwise with them which have forsaken their sinful and sensual life, for they love to be smit●en with a righteous hand, etc. The example of Fragan the Emp. is worth the remembering; who desired nothing else of old Mr. Plu●arke, but only this, that he would plainly reprove his failings, and withal told him, that when he see●ed angry, he would not have him ●o think that it was at him for his reproof, but at himself for the fault requiring such reproof; but alas! we ●ave few such Fragans, and as few ●lutarkes.  
The third symptom, is a quiet acquittance from the Court of our ●wn Conscience, in the day when ●eason holdeth her sessions, by the evidence of moral truth, which is ●us to be conceived; there is in an a power of reason and understanding, and this reason of man is sometimes more free and fit, (being freed from the encumbrances of the unruly affections to judge & determine according to evidence, that is according to the light of moral truth made known, either by reading, or hearing, or by depth of solid meditation: now if in this day & hour (whe● thy reason shall be awakened) thy Conscience do not torment the● but speak peace & quiet unto thee this is an Argument that thou ha● taken thy farewell of the sensual life. For of this be sure, that either thou hast taken thy farewell of th● sensual life, or else thy Conscience doth torment thee, or else thy re●son is a sleep, and cannot hear th● voice of moral truth.  
Now come we to show the sign● of forsaking the rational conten●ment, which is that where in th● true Christian doth outgo the moral honest man. And these be in number 4. First, an undoubted resolution of a negative condition; that is to say, the soul or heart of this man is fully resolved, that all comprehensible acts and things, men and means, are no way able to give it peace, and that not only of those things wherein it hath had experience; but also in whatsoever new invention it may hear of in time to come.  
The second sign is a firm persuasion affirmative concerning the true happiness to consist in God, and only in him: which firm persuasion begetteth such a patiented waiting as showeth forth the very seeds of faith to be in the heart: and this soul will rather chu●e to die in this desire (if God refer its request) then be brought to re●y upon any comprehensible good, by any humane persuasion.  
A third sign is a great and unspeakable admiration, which is wrought in the soul, to consider the passages of all opinions, and th● termination of all difficulties: together with that sweet beholding (with the eye of faith) all thing extracted out of one thing, and i● one to see all. As most divinely saith this Akempis, he to whom th● eternal word speaketh is freed fro● many opinions, which freedom begetteth a great admiration in th● heart in which it dwelleth. The 4. and last note, is a most profound silence, concerning all curious inquisition and discourse; this ma● pondereth much in his heart, bu● prateth little with his tongue, he 〈◊〉 now swift to hear, and slow t● speak. And this is that by whic● in a most special manner, he differeth from the wordie & windy professor. And this is a sure testimony, that this man hath taken his farewell of his deceitful and deceiving reason.   

CHAP. 11. Showing the true Harbour, or Haven of the Heart's Anchorage.  
HAving declared the heart's progression towards happiness, her farewell to all false flattery, and the Symptoms of it it remaineth that we show, what is the haven or harbour of the heart. This hath been negatively signified, and affirmatively insinuated in all our former passages, in that we have laboured ●he bringing of the heart from all ●nd every comprehensible thing: The which now I intent more punctually to resolve (with as much brevity as may be.) The haven or harbour of man's heart is God. And nothing under God, nor nothing besides God, nor any joined with God; but purely God nakedly revealing his Fatherly face in Christ unto the believing soul, uniting himself unto the soul, and the soul unto him, in pure act of hyperbolical, and incredible Communion which is rather felt by experience then known by discourse, and i● more real than verbal. This beholding the beauty of the, Lord i● that one thing which David desireth above all things. Psalm. 27.5. It is the pleasant face of God, an● it only which can put gladness into his heart Psalm 4. and again, he hat● nothing in Heaven or in earth bu● only God, Psalm. 73.25. He whos● name is the Lord of Hosts is the Portion of Jacob, jer. 10.16. to him th● righteous fly for safety, Prov. 18.10 these are the people which are kept in perfect peace; whose minds are stayed in the Lord, as saith the Prophet Isaiah, 26, 3. nor set any question, whether any thing save only God, can be the stay of the heart; for the reasons declaring this truth are invincible. And first God only can be the haven of man's heart, because he only is that infiniteness which the heart desireth. For this we are to know, that man's desires are infinite and endless, not triangle, as is the figure of the heart, but infinite according to that goodness which it once lost, in losing God; and hence it is, that all Creatures are unable to give it any stable contentment, because all comprehensible things are of a finite condition, God only can accomplish this rest, because the longing of the heart is only in him.  
A second reason is this, God is a spirit, and therefore most fit for the soul of man (which is spiritual) to ●●st anchorin●all other things are too shallow waters for the shi● of m●● near ●●●ide in; for th● soul must ne●de● 〈…〉 which is 〈…〉 A●d 〈…〉 by 〈…〉; an● 〈…〉 God h●●self m●st 〈…〉 ●s harbour. The 〈…〉 of, doth teach us these u●es. F●st, it doth declare the natural ●●●●●ness and Idolatry of man's heart, in that its earnest seeking of rest in a created subject or object. Alas! man seeketh nothing more than rest, as was ●hewed in the second Chapter: but how, some in wine, some in women, some in with, wealth learning, religious exercises, etc. as the blindness of the understanding doth direct; whereas all these are but so many whorish inventions of man's Idolatrous heart, which secretly placeth a Godhead & deity in these comprehensible things; but we see that God will not give his glory to another, and therefore denieth the heart, rest and peace, till it come out of all such.  
A second use of this is, to declare the reason why the professors of Religion are so covetous and so close-handed; namely because that knowledge which hath filled their brains, hath not power to satisfy their hearts, and that because it is not God, but a speculation of God, so that though they seem full, yet are as empty-hearted as the vainest man that liveth, and are as apt to entertain every way of gain or glory, ●n hope to satisfy their restless souls. For what this peace of God which passeth understanding is, they never knew, nor can know, because ●hey are so busied in their witty working, and understand not what it is to become fools. Lastly, this should teach all to inquire what is the Haven or harbour for their souls, and not to set down their rest, till they be certainly arrived in the God of peace, and are made one with him, in experimental acquaintance through Christ. But when thy soul shall cast Anchor in God, thou shalt feel and find many sweet and heavenly fruits following, such as is peace in God and joy in the Holy Ghost; together with sweet comfortable and constant contempt of the world; as I will briefly touch in the next and last Chapter.   

CHAP. XII. Containing the Symptoms or signs of this true happiness.  
THe last member of this heart's happiness remaineth to be showed, in declaring the signs of the anchorage of the heart's anchorage. And they are in number 4. First, the hearts real rest. I say real rest, to distinguish it from all verbal and Imaginary rest, which man supposeth to have obtained, in created and comprehensible things, of one sort or another. For, as things real and in true being, do differ from things Imaginary, and as true natural acts do differ from dreams, so doth the peace of that heart (which is established in God) surpass all the peace of natural men, in their sensualities: and all verbal professors, in their several forms of religious exercises. The truth of this real peace appearerh, in that it addeth j●y in tribulation, as St. Paul showeth, Rom. 5.3. and in that it is able to stay the heart and mind, Phil. 4.7. Such is this peace, that it hath enabled the godly to contend with, and to overcome many potent adversaries: for proof of this peace, see Prov. 18.10. Isa. 26.1.2.3. verse. Psa. 116.7. And that this is a real peace, will further appear in that it recalleth all the worldly wander of the heart, and settleth the mind: as will be showed, in the restrainr of the appetites, The consideration of this first Symptom, doth serve to teach all restless, and wand'ring hearts, that they are not arrived in the H●ven of true being. Let us profess what we will, know what we can, practise in religious exercises, till nature be spent; yet if there be a restless heart, coveting and longing for more gain, more glory, etc. this man hath not known the peace of God; but the peace which he hath (if he have any) is a peace of his own framing, and is attended with continual insatiety.  
The second Symptom of the heart's arrival, is the joy which it possesseth. Mary's heart dorh magnify the Lord, and her spirit doth rejoice in God her Saviour; the Kingdoms of God is joy, and how can they but rejoice, in whom it dwelleth? yea, such is this joy as it wipeth away all sorrow (in respect of that fear and torment which was in the conscience, arising from God's wrath) from the believers eye. I say not all sorrow, for now this slavish sorrow (arising from fear) being done away, there is begotten another kind of grief in the soul, viz. a grief because the soul sinneth, and not because it shall be punished; For the love of God hath cast out this fear. So that this joy is a joy most unspeakable and glorious. And this joy is that which Reverend Ward (in his book called the life of Faith) doth so extort (as it were) from a Christian: for he saith plainly, that he will not believe, that Faith can be without joy.  
And certainly, that joy must needs be great, which is no other thing, but God in power, making glad the heart of man. We see how greatly our affection of joy is moved and stirred; with almost unspeakable delight, in the real partaking of some earthly endowment. Judge then, how much more are they enlarged with joy: which not verbally, but really, communicate with God; and have by faith a true taste, and sure earnest of all heavenly preferments; which St. Peter calleth an entrance into the everlasting Kingdom of our Lord and Saviour jesus Christ, and this is administered (saith he) abundantly. And some Divines (setting forth this happiness) say, that the believer hath one foot in Heaven, as old men have one foot in the grave; and wicked men one foot in hell.  
The use of this point, is to add sorrow to the sorrowful, but not to such as are filled with godly sorrow, (because they sin against their loving Father) but this augmenteth the sorrow of such as are filled either with worldly sorrow, or with slavish and distrustful sorrow; For all such sorrow bewrayeth the want of faith, for (as Mr. Ward saith, such before alleged) such as is our Faith such is our joy: and by consequence, such as is our sorrow, such is our unbelief. That is, if our sorrow be worldly, or slavish, and distrustful. Such men as so sorrow, may well be told that they have Faith, and so they may rest (as a man in a dream) and suppose they have Faith; but God giveth his children such a Faith, which bringeth forth such true testimony with it, that men, nor devils cannot prevail against it: & such a faith as justifieth the sinner before God, and giveth him inwatd peace toward God in Christ. And to speak more plainly, though the degrees of peace and joy may be extenuated, yet the testimony of its being in nature still remaineth so strong, that the child of God can ever say (yea when he feeleth God to be withdrawing himself) my God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me. And in this might of God's absence. he remaineth confident, that though sorrow be over night, yet joy will come in the morning: So that, though the Lord should seem to kill him with unkindness, yet will he put his trust in him, knowing that (for all this) his Redeemer liveth. yea, in spite of infidelity, his Redeemer liveth; and my God hath hid his face, and such like phrases are most frequent with the faithful,  
The 3. Sign is a general restraint of all man's appetites. And here we are carefully to mark two things.  
First, how manifold man's appetites are.  
Secondly, how fare they are restrained.  
The appetites of man may be 〈◊〉 ●●●ehended in 3. Heads, That is, 〈◊〉 appetites, cordial, rational, 〈◊〉. The cordial appetites are most of all restrained, the rational appetites are less restrained, and the ●en●u●● are least of all restrained, yet ●●l restrained in some degree.  
To enlarge these three points a ●●ttle.  
The cordial appetites, or the natural long of the heart, though they move in man most strongly, yet are they most hidden from man, and where a man doth sensibly perceive the appetite of his heart once; he perceiveth the rational ten times, and the sensual ten hundred times.  
This appetite of the heart, is nothing else but a silent mourning of the Spirit, for its proper good, which is God, as it was showed in the second Chap.  
Now than it must needs follow, that when the heart hath met with God, and is arrived in him, it must follow, that this appetite of the heart, must be very much restrained; being in a manner full, through the fullness of God; in which it is established.  
The second appetite is the rational, that is, the wand'ring of man's mind, in desire of the comprehensible goods, according to the determination of the understanding. This appetite is more discerned than the former, though it move not so strongly, and the reason why it is more discerned, is, because the object of our understanding (upon which this appetite worketh) is comprehensible: so that the mind no sooner moveth, but the whole man is for the most part always acquainted with it, except only at such times as the sensual appetites work more strongly, in eodem puncto temporis, in the same instant. Now this rational appetite, being variably, and often exercised by reason of the strong cry of the heart, (expressing its discontentment to the understanding, in a perpetual cry of emptiness) must needs be very much restrained, because that moving of this appetite, (the heart's emptiness) is now supplied.  
The mind of man hath a natural motion, for its own delight and recreation as it were, and this appetite still remaineth in the mind of man; but that motion which was violent, from the cry of the heart, is now restrained, so that the appetites of man's mind, are nothing so unruly, nor so forceable as before; for all the unrulines of this appetite is subjugated and subdued, in the peace of the heart.  
The 3. and last appetite, is the sensual, and this is least bridled, because it is most exercised in relieving of the outward man; notwithstanding the inordinateness of this appetite is brought into a very comely decorum and order.  
So that now the sensual appetite can with much more easiness, and contentedness be denied the object of its desire; yea, the sensual appetite can in a good measure be content, with what is most repugnant to its desire; as with hunger, cold, nakedness, yea and with death itself, such is the wonderful working of the heart's quietness, it requireth a volumn to express, how it rectifieth and ordereth the whole man.  
The use of this lets us see, that whereas all the appetites are unrestrained, the peace of the heart is not attained.  
The fourth and last Symptom is, such Eucharistical love; love arising from a thankful heart, extended first to God, then towards men.  
and it is to be noted, that it is love arising from thankfulness, that is, from a thankful heart to God, because that his everlasting love in his Christ, is made known to the heart.  
This man doth not frame himself to love, and to do good duties, that so he may have somewhat to thank God for, vaingloriously, as did the Pharisee: But being assured of God's love, doth stand bound over again to God in love; and thus out of 〈◊〉 thankful heart, standeth knit to God, and to the obedience of his Commandments, saying in his heart, O how I love thy Law, and every particular of it.  
This love of God shed abroad i● his soul, doth cut down self-love so that now this man is for God and his Neighbour, to all and every such services, wherein he may glorify God, and do good unto men; so that it is as his meat and drink to be doing of the will of God.   
FINIS.