A TREATISE OF Adhering to God; Written by Albert the Great, Bishop of Ratisbon. Put into English by Sir Kenelme Digby, Kt.

ALSO A Conference with a Lady about Choyce of RELIGION.

LONDON, Printed for Henry Herring­man, at the Anchor in the New-Exchange. 1654.

To the Lady DIGBY.

MADAM,

WHen lately I was commanded out of England, I was so streightened in time, that I was not able to carry any thing with me, besides what I had about me. And the difficulties that my servants met with in following mee, and in bringing my carriages after me, made me remain here sometimes in want of my ordinary attendants, and of such ne­cessaries as I had dayly need of. I was not so sensible of any, as of the deprivation of my bookes: which in all fortunes I had ever sound my best companions; and in whose conversation I as well profited, as pleased my self. And therefore in all my journies (even the longest and most cumbersome) I have ever used to have a convenient store of them with mee. I was now reduced to [Page]have none other by me, but a short discourse of Albert the great, concerning the perfect­ion of a spiritual life; which at my setting forth from London, I had put into my pocket; invited thereto, by the dignity of the subject, the excellency of the author, and the smallnesse of the bulk of it. I read it over with much delight; And judged it so profitable a work, that I desired to impress the contents of it as deep as I could in my memory: and indeed to convert the whole treatise, into the very substance of my soul, as hoping, it may one day serve mee for a rule to govern my poor devotions by; as far as my feeble eyes may be able to see by the light of so dazeling a sunne.

This occasioned me to employ my self in rendring in my own tongue, the expressions which this author had made in Latin. For I believe, scarce any study doth so vigorous­ly digest an other mans notions into the nourishment of ones own minde, as doth the translating or the paraphrasing of them. And when I had done it, I deemed it one of the most profitable tasks (of so short an one) that ever I had busied myself a­bout. [Page]Neither could I be content to en­grosse unto my selfe alone so noble a feast: I desired that my best friend should share with me in it: whose partaking with me in any good, I must ever account, the crowning and compleating of it, to me. And there­fore I presently resolved to send your La: a coppy of this discourse: which I confesse, is much empayred and enfeebled by its change of habit. For to expresse the authors sense with full weight, requireth alike know­ledge as he had, of the matter he wrighteth of. And this is not to be acquired by hu­mane industry, or dint of wit: but is an ef­fect of the unction of the holy Ghost; that is never wanting where it findeth due pre­parations and dispositions on the creatures part. And in this, Mystical Divinity dif­fereth from all other sciences, that the right understanding of it, dependeth of the pre­cedent faithfull practising it. Like as in divine truths, he that would see the light which shineth in them, must first beleive them. To converse familiarly with the king­dome of God that is within us, requireth a total abstraction from the hindring objects [Page]that are without us. And the various course in the world, that I have runne my selfe out of breath in, hath afforded me little means for solid recollection. Therefore it cannot be expected that I should otherwise compre­hend this holy Bishops notions, and expresse them in my language; then as men use to frame apprehensions upon hear-say of coun­treies they were never in; and afterwards deliver them to others. They who have bin there, will soon perceive great mistakes in the others discourses and descriptions. And so will your Ladyship (whom long, constant, practise hath rendred so profoundly knowing in this sublime Science,) in this translation, or rather short Paraphrase of mine. I have been fain to make it such, because I could not satisfie my selfe of rendring compleatly the authors sense by a verbal translation of his words. The composition of Authors are either forged in their fantasy; or are pro­ductions of their understanding; or are ex­pressions of their affective part. All these (I conceive) do claim a different course to be taken in rendring them in another tongue. [Page]Those of the first kinde do exact a strict ver­bal translation. For they springing from notions that have their residence in the fan­cy, and being barely of that low orbe: plain words, that have their lively pictures also there, do represent them adequately; And consequently, in an other tongue, words of the same signification, do render them fully. But in compositions of deep judgement (in which the manners of expression do insinu­ate further meanings, then the meer words barely considered, do seem to imploy) one must use a far different method to render them with their due weight and force in an other language. One must first comprehend the fullnesse of their sense, and settle in ones own thoughts the same; and then deliver those thoughts as compleatly and significant­ly as one can, in ones own words and man­ner of expression. For want of doing which, wee see the best writers lose exceeding­ly of their strength and energy, when they are translated by such as confine themselves grammatically to their authors words.

This maketh Tacitus so lame, and so [Page]bare in many translations; Aristotle so obscure and unpleasant; Avicenna so bar­barous; Virgil so ungracefull; and S. Au­gustin himselfe appear oftentimes but flat and dry. Much more this happeneth in affective expression. Wee see how the same words that are extreamly moving, when they are spoken in passion by a lover, prove flat and cold, when an other person barely relateth them. And such an effect as the manner of gesture and earnestnesse worketh in speaking, the like doth the man­ner of couching the sense, and the phrase, in writing. The Arcadia of Sr Philip Sidney (of whom I may say as St Augustin did of Homer, that he is passing sweet and delightful, even in his vanities) though it be very faithfully translated into other languages, in regard of grammatical con­struction, yet it appeareth with little grace amongst forraigners, who cannot believe how strangely that book useth to raise affe­ctions and passions in such as read it in the original English. If this be so in the ex­pressions of such affections as have but crea­tures for their objects, how must it fare with [Page]those which being fixed upon the Creator, do require a profound abstraction of the un­derstanding & an admirable purity of heart in the readers, that they may have a right taste of them. He that will render effica­ciously the expressions of a soul burning with affections, must be endued with a spi­rit of a like temper. He knoweth that such a one is not sollicitous about his words: and that therefore he ought not to be scrupulous in weighing them. The understanding cannot look to the bottome of such expressi­ons, nor relish the sweetnesse that is in them. He must abound with affections in himselfe, that would savour the language of affections spoken by an other. Hearts of this temper, are like the strings of different lutes tuned alike, which move in both, though but one be touched. Now Alberts language in this treatise, being much of this strain, I cannot be so partial to myself as to hope that my English arriveth near expressing the fulness of his sense. I may up­pon this occasion say as St Thomas did, when he was desired to comment Salomons mystical Song, as St Bernard before him [Page]had don (and with much more reason and justice;) If I had St Bernards spirit, I would make such a comment as St Bernard did. He onely that hath the spirit where­with this illuminated Bishop wrote, can fully comprehend and render his sense in this divine and mystical treatise. Therefore I must necessarily have fallen very short in my translation; since it is not to be ex­pected that I should mak it speak, but at that rate, as my selfe did first understand it.

Besides this improportion on my side; the Authors manner of delivering him­selfe hath made my talke much more dif­ficult. It is evident that he little regar­ded in what words or stile he expressed him­selfe.

He was so full of the matter, that he neglected the forme and dresse he put it in. And writing it in the nature of a summary remembrance, for his own use, and some other pious and intelligent persons of his own order, his particular friends (sor hee was a Dominican Fryar, before hee was made a Bishop) hee conceived it sufficient [Page]for him to give but hints or notes of what he aymed at: which would presently bring before them the whole sequel of considerati­ons that were comprised under such heads, and that he had often discoursed largely unto them. And the nature of such a writing admitting frequent soddain transitions to new matter (or that may seem new, to one that seeth not the connection of it with what was said before) it is very hard to worke such a piece into an even contexture with one entire and continued thread. The course I took to wade as well as I could through these difficul­ties, was to endeavour out of what hee had said, to raise my own thoughts to be as like unto his, as my weaknesse could attain unto. And then I ap­plied my selfe to expresse those thoughts as significantly as I could, in my own man­ner of speech, upon the model he hath left; (in the mean time, departing as little as I could from his words, where I might follow them) and connecting the broken transitions, as I conceived they were [Page]connected in his minde, though they appear not so at the first sight in the words that he hath uttered his conceptions by. Yet, not­withstanding his being thus short through­out, he often repeateth the same thing (but still with some addition and further expli­cation of the matter) to inculcate it the deeper: as is recorded of St Jo. the Evange­list; who in his latter time, whensoever he was desired to preach, did still but repeat the same few words, by which he invited his auditors to the love that charity ordaineth. This sheweth how the substance and perfe­ction of a spiritual life consisteth in a very narrow room. And therefore St Denis the Areopagit, who is so diffuse in his trea­tises, is most succinct in his mystical divi­nity: as having for its subject but that only one thing which in the Gospel our Sa­viour telleth us is necessary.

The end of all spiritual exercise, is but to love God with the whole activity of ones soul; And the expeditest way to bring one thereunto, is to banish all other affecti­ons and inclinations from the heart, and all other thoughts from ones minde. The [Page]impressions which creatures make in one are like boisterous windes, that wrinkling the face of a water (and peradventure rai­sing mudde in it) do deface and keep out those images, which would shine in it, if it were calme and smooth. He that can wisely keep his soul from adhering to any thing without him, shall finde his creator shine gloriously within him. It is the eminence of superior things to send alwaies emana­tions from them, for the bettering of infe­rior ones; if they exclude them not. So we see the sun sends his beams into every corner of the hemisphere, if nothing shut them out. Open the windowes and draw the curtains, and the chamber that before was darke will then immediately grow lightsome. The shutters and screenes which keep out the divine sun from illuminating and warming our souls, are the images of creatures, that reside in them. And there­fore this Authors main endeavour consist­eth in advising and pressing a totall denu­dation from all such. Hence proceedeth this frequent iteration, and inculcating of this document.

Yet he doth no so absolutely exclude all corporall shapes out of the imagination, but that he adviseth and exhorteth all men to exercise themselves in the continual medi­tation of our Saviours passion. Man be­ing composed of two natures; spiritual and corporall; and the corporall part having in this life gotten the start of the other, it is impossible for us, to tie up our senses from all commerce with materiall objects: and very hard for us to keep some of them from making smart impressions in our fantasie; which is as it were the window that letteth in outward lights to the soul. For the most part they are false and de­ceitfull ones. And the onely means to be secure from such, is to fill that store-house with safe materials; and than were it but through want of room, it will not admit of others. Of all these, the perfectest, and indeed the most agree­able to our nature, and consequently the most powerfull to move us, is the history of Christs life and passion. We see that e­ven tragedies and Romances, of perad­venture feigned subjects (or at least that [Page]concerne not us) doe strangly affect the hearers, and do raise strong passions and affections in them with a desire to imitate what they represent well done; and a compassion for the misfortunes and calami­ties that arrive undeservedly to worthy and well natured persons. How efficaci­ous then must the consideration of Christs passion and sufferings be to beget like, and farre stronger sentiments in any man that shall insiste upon them? The dignity of the person; the extremity of his base and cruel usage; his great deser­vings, even from them that so treated him; his undergoing all this, meerly for our sakes, and particularly for every one of us; and the infailable certainty that the re­cords of all these passages are undoubted­ly true, would move a heart of stone that should entertain it self leisurely with these thoughts.

And such compassion and tendernesse for his sufferings to redeem and deliver us from misery, will beget love and passion in us to his person. And hee being God, as well as man; our affections that thus begun [Page]divinity, which is the period of all spirituall exercises, and the top of all perfection, in this life; and the happinesse of the next. And therefore our Saviour told his belo­ved and loving penitent, that the share she had chosen should never bee taken from her.

Upon these grounds Albert recommen­deth the continuall meditation of Christs passion, to be alwayes joyned with the other exercise of depuring our imaginations, and hearts from the images and affections of all created objects whatsoever; Making thereby a ladder of his humanity to climbe up to his divinity; which if we should look upon it without that veyle between us and it, would strike us blind. As when a me­dicinal simple is too strong for our stomack to bear singly in its own substance, physitians use to allay and weaken it with some gen­tle liquor that is agreeable to our taste: and then drinking what delighteth us, with pleasure we swallow health.

But Madam, I perceive I engage my selfe before I am aware in a talk, I am not able to go through with. Nor is it need­full, [Page]for this little treatise (of as great va­lue, as it is of little bulk) requireth neither commentary nor apologie. My sending it to your Ladyship is an action of duty, and of affection. The first, in giving you an ac­count of the expence of my time in this place, where I have bin now a just week; and intitling you to all I shall ever do, or bring to passe, in any kind whatsoever du­ring my whole life: And the other, in communicating to you what hath afforded me so much contentment, and may prove so solidly beneficial to me, if it please God to give me grace to make right use of it. I beseech your Ladyship pray him so to do, and to be pleased to give me your blessing. Calis the 6th of October (the feast of the glorious Patriarke of the Carthusians, who most ad­mirably practised and instituted, what this treatise recommendeth) in the year 1649.

Your Ladyships most humble, most obedient, and most du­tiful Sonne, K. D.

To my Lady Winter, the wife of Sr. John Winter, late of Liddne in the County of Glocester.

MADAM,

THe worthy Author giving me the view of this Translation in Paris, at my comming from thence I begged a cop­pie, which he was pleased to bestow: and as he performed the work for his private use and re­creation, and after dedicated it to his vertuous Mother the Lady Digby: So I, who have no other share then the conveying it to be printed for the publique good, do offer up my little in­dustrie therein to your La: Yet not for this on­ly, but that indeed I willingly take occasion to tell the world, how much my Lady Winter is esteemed and valued by her faithfull Friend, and Kinsman,

and most humble servant, W: Gr:
A TREATISE OF Adheri …

A TREATISE OF Adhering to God.

CHAP. I. Of the utmost and highest perfection that it is possiblefor a man to arrive unto in this life.

I Have been casting with my selfe, how I might frame for my owne use, a compleat & perfect draught (as far forth as our nature is capa­ble of in this lifes banishment and peregri­nation) of what is the highest and noblest action for a man to employ himselfe a­bout. And surely this is none other, then a ready, vigorous, constant and immedi­ate adhesion unto God Almighty; by a totall abstraction (as much as is possible) from all creatures whatsoever. For, the end of Christian perfection is Love and Cha­rity; by which a Soule cleaveth to her Creatour. And unto this adhesion of Charity, every man in particular is un­dispensably obliged under paine of loo­sing [Page 2]Heaven, so far forth as concerneth the obeying Gods commands, and the con­forming himselfe to his Divine will: which obedience shutteth out whatsoe­ver is repugnant to the essence and habit of Charity; and consequently all mortall sinnes. But religious persons have a further obligation then this, by having bound themselves to Evangelicall perfection, and to such duties, as though they be but of counsill and superogation, yet by them the way is made more ready, and more secure to bring the observers of them to their journeys end; which is the possession, and fruition of God. And the observance of these shutteth out not only what is de­structive to Charity; but also all other obstacles that may in any wise hinder or loose the fervour and activity of Charity, or that may retard or slacken the soules union with God Almighty, which is in a great measure performed, by an intire and efficacious abrenunciation of all creatures whatsoever; even of our owne selves.

Now seeing that God is a spirit, and that he ought to be adored in Spirit and in truth; Joh. 4. (that is to say, by knowledge and love, by understanding and affection voide of all mixture with any corporeal species, [Page 3]or materiall imaginations) hence it is that we are thus taught in the Gospel; when thou shalt pray, enter into thy chamber, that is, into the inner roome of thy heart) and shutting the doore, Mat. 6. to wit, of thy senses, there with a pure heart, a good con­science and a firme faith, pray to thy father in spirit and in truth in secret. All which is done, when a man laying aside all other affaires and thoughts, withdraweth himselfe wholy into himself: & then shut­ting out, and forgetting all created objects whatsoever, the superiour part of his soule onely powreth out before Jesus Christ her desires to her Lord God, in deepe si­lence, and with confident security; and in so doing, dilateth, diffuseth, drowneth, inflameth and resolveth herself into him, through the violence of love with the whole weight of her heart, and with the utmost straining of all her faculties and powers.

CHAP. II. How one may cleave and intend wholy to Christ, despising all other things.

BUt he who desireth, and is resolved to apply himselfe to such a state, must [Page 4]lay downe for an absolutely necessary ground, that he must shut his eyes and all his senses to all manner of outward impli­cations and affaires that may cause any trouble, and must cast from him all cares & sollicitudes, as being altogether uncon­cerned in any creature whatsoever, or ra­ther looking upon them as hurtfull and pernicious to him. And then he must re­tire his whole life into himselfe; and there have no other object to entertaine his thoughts withall, but Jesus Christ woun­ded and crucified. And that with a conti­nuall attention, and with all earnestnesse and straining himself to his utmost power, he must make it his onely businesse, to passe by him into him, that is to say, by his Manhood into his Godhead, by the wounds of his humanity, into his glory and Divinity: and there readily and se­curely commit himselfe and all that con­cerneth him, to his unwearied, and al-see­ing providence; according to St Peters expression, when he saith (casting all your care and solicitude upon him, 1 Pet. 5. who ruleth and disposeth all things: And to St Paul, when he biddeth us bee solicitous for nothing, Phil. 4. And to that direction of the Psalme, which adviseth us to set­tle [Page 5]all our thoughts upon the Lord, and he will nourish us. Psal. 54. And to the sense of the other which saith, It is good for me to ad­here to God Psal. 74. And also of the other that telleth us, how the Royall Prophet kept the Lord alwaies before his eyes, Psal. 15. And like the Soule in the Canticles that rejoyceth for having found him whom her soule loved. Cant. 3. The end wherof will be, that all goods will come along in company with that supreame good. And this is that heaven­ly hidden treasure, and that pearle of ine­stimable value which ought to be preferr'd before all other goods whatsoever, and is to be sought with strength of Spirit, and purchased with humble confidence, with tranquillity of mind, with carefull guard upon ones tongue, with indefatigable en­deavours, and even with the losse of all outward conveniences, and of ones very honour and reputation. For otherwise what would it availe a religious man to gaine the whole world, if at the same time he should suffer detriment in his soule? or what profiteth him the state he hath enga­ged himselfe in, the holinesse of his pro­fession; the habit of perfection that hee hath put on; and the whole oeconomy of his outward conversation, unlesse he bee [Page 6]enlivened with the Spirit of Humility, and truth, where Christ dwelleth by faith, that is informed and quickned with charity? To him that is in this condition it may be truely said, the kingdome of God is with­in you; which is our Lord and Saviour Je­sus Christ.

CHAP. III. In what the perfect conformity of man with God consisteth in this life.

IT is most certaine, that by how much more a mans Soule is busied and sollici­tous about inferiour and humane affaires, by so much the further she is carried away from superiour and heavenly considerati­ons, in which consisteth the flower and vi­gour of devotion. And by how much more intensely and fervently ones thoughts are recollected from remembring, loving and considering of inferior objects, and are fixed upon superior ones, by so much their proper will bee the perfecter, and their contemplation the purer. For it is impossible that ones attention should at the same time be entirely and perfectly knit upon two distinct objects, that are as farre distant from one another, as light and [Page 7]darknesse are. He that adhereth to God, dwelleth in light: but he that is glewed to the world is overwhelmed with darknesse. And therfore the sublimer perfection of a man in this life, is to be so united to God, that his whole soule withall her powers and facultyes bee in such sort wound up and riveted in him; and that he remember nothing but God; and that all his affecti­ons being united in a joyfull exercise of love, doe repose sweetly in the sole fruiti­on of their Creator. For, the image of God expressed in the Soule, consisteth in these three faculties of hers: namely in the understanding, the memory, and the will. And as long as they in any man are not entirely impressed with the stamp of God, and the whole extent of them are not taken up with that, his soule cannot bee said to bee Deiformed, or perfectly resembling the divinity, according to the state in which the first soule was created. For, God is the forme of the soule where­with she ought to be impressed, as waxe is with a seale, and she ought to have such a relation to him, as the coppy of a picture hath to its originall. But this is never com­pleatly done, but when ones reason and understanding is perfectly illuminated [Page 8](according to its capacity with the know­ledge of God, who is the supreme veri­ty; and his will is perfectly set on fire with the love of him who is the supreme good; and his memory is totally absorbed in contemplating and rejoycing in his e­ternall happinesse, and in reposing sweetly and delightfully in that thought. Now seeing that the glory of heavenly blisse consisteth in the full possession of these three, which will be compleated in the next life, it is evident that a perfect beginning of them is the utmost perfection that our present life is capable of.

CHAP. IV. How our operations ought to be in the In­tellectuall part of our Soule onely, and not in our Senses.

HE therefore is happy, who by continu­all receiving and expunging of all species and Images from his fantasie, and by reducing and turning his considerati­ons inwards, and there raising his Soule up to God, groweth at length to that pass, that he forgetteth all materiall imaginati­ons, and hath no other entertainment for his thoughts within him, but to imploy [Page 9]them continually by pure and simple operations of understanding and love, a­bout the only pure and simple object ele­vated above all composition, or materia­lity; which is none other but God. Be sure then that you banish out of your mind all imaginations, pictures, and formes of all things whatsoever, that are not God; to the end that your whole excercise and imployment within you, be immediatly concerning God, and be performed sing­ly by your understanding, and by your will and affections. For the end of all spirituall exercises is the applying all ones thoughts to God, the busying them singly about him, the attending to him onely, and the reposing entirely in him without any other sollicitude or occupation of the mind; and this, fingly in the intellectuall part of our soule, by pure understanding, and by vehement straine of love, without any admixture of Corporeall imaginati­ons. And this exercise is of so refined and pure a nature, that the fleshly organs of the body cannot reach unto it; but it is performed by that part of us which mak­eth us to be men, and reasonable creatures; that is by our understanding and our will. And therefore as long as a man entertain­eth [Page 10]himselfe with his senses, and with the picture and impressions that outward ob­jects doe make in any of them, and dwel­leth upon them; It may rightly be said of him, that he hath not yet growne out the motions and limites of his brutall nature; that is, out of the low orbe in which he partaketh with brute beasts, and is not a­bove them. For they have cognition, and are wrought upon by such materiall and sensitive species; and have not in them any spring of a higher straine. Whereas man in regard of his reasonable soule, that is endowed with the powers of understand­ing, of loving, and of the free will, is created according to the image & likenes of God: and by them he ought to receive into his soule pure and immediate im­pressons from God himselfe,, and cleave firmly to him, and become one with him. And therefore the divell through his envy to mankind is most vigilant and active to hinder a man from that exercise as much as he can; as being a kind of essay and be­ginning in this life of the eternall happi­nesse he shall injoy in the next. And in pursuance of that designe he laboureth al­waies with his utmost power to draw our minds from almighty God, sometimes by [Page 11]one temptation, sometimes by another, sometimes raising passions in us, other­whiles begetting in our minds needlesse sollicitousnesse, superfluous cares, and indiscreet anxieties; otherwhiles disor­dering us with unquietnesse within our selves, or with dissolute conversation with­out us, or with unreasonable curiosity of what concerneth us not; sometimes with begetting in us an itch to read Books of unprofitable Subtilties, or to discourse of what belongeth not to us, or to inquire af­ter newes & occurrences of the world; o­therwhiles by assaulting us with adversi­ties and contradictions, & with an innume­rable company of stratagems that he im­ployeth against us: whereof though many may seeme to be but of small moment, and not to be accounted as sins, yet in very truth they are exceeding great hinderanc­es of this holy and sublime exercise. And therfore, be they concerning great affaires, or concerning but small ones; nay, though they may seem to be advantageous to us, or even necessary to be attended; neverthe­lesse they ought to be wholly cut off and cast away, and our sences ought to be di­vorced from them. And accordingly, whatsoever we happen to heare, or to see, [Page 12]or whatsoever in any sort chanceth to passe before us, we must have a singular care that we transmit it not from our outward senses to our fantasy, and there frame an image or representation of it, and enter­taine our thoughts with it. Which if we be diligent in, and do keep such images from residing in our memory, and from recurring to our thoughts; they will be of no impediment unto us, nor cause us any distraction whiles we are praying, me­ditating, singing Psalmes, or about any other spirituall exercise; nor will ever after returne to molest us againe. There­fore upon any occasion of what important affairs soever that may occurre unto you, let your security & fortresse be to keep it out from admittance into your thoughts, and from making any impression upon your mind; and to cast it and your selfe readily and confidently and entirely, with peace and silence and calmnesse, into the arms of Gods all knowing and all govern­ing providence; and then he will fight for you; and will certainly deliver you from all the evills that might arrive unto you from that coast; and will shine in your soule by Divine consolations. Whereas if you should thinke to overcome the diffi­culties [Page 13]that will arise against you, by your owne industry and vigilancy, and by taking them to taske, and wrestling a­gainst them in your owne thoughts; all that you will gaine by wearying your self out with continuall sollicitude, and with having your restlesse imaginati­ons day and night fixed upon what you would prevent or compasse; will be to discover plainly in the conclusion, that all humane wisdome is meer folly, and that the result of such toylesome enslaving of the soule to vaine and unreasonable occupations, is but losse of time, abasing of our mind, and even a fretting out of the spirits that give life to our body; without effecting what we have so earn­estly and passionately laboured for. When therefore any accident happeneth to you of what kind soever it commeth, make ac­count it is sent you by a tender Father that is continually watchfull over you, and accordingly receive it with an even and unmoved mind, and let it not afford you matter either for discourse with o­thers, or for thoughtfullnesse within you. But uncloath your imagination from all ideas and images of corporeall objects, according to the duty of your condition [Page 14]and profession; that so you may cleave fast with a pure soule to him you have be­queathed your selfe, and that no created thing whatsoever may intervene betweene you and him, and that through the sacred wounds of his humanity, you may be securely and steadily wafted over to the incomprehensible light of his divinity.

CHAP. V. Of the purity of heart, which above all things is to be aymed at.

IF therefore you desire to walke in the straight and direct way that will bring you readily and safely to your journeys end, both of grace in this life, and of glo­ry in the next, you must with a constant and never interrupted attention, employ all the diligence and industry you are able to purchase a perpetuall cleanenesse of heart and purity of mind, and untroubled­nesse of senses. You must recollect as it were into one burning point all the incli­nations and affections of your Soule, and cast it upon God, and fixe it irremove­ably upon him. Which to doe efficaciously you must withdraw your selfe from the conversation of your friends, and indeed [Page 15]of all mankind (as much as is possible for you) and from all businesse of what kind soever that may in any sort divert or retard this designe of yours, laying hold of all conveniences that may beget a quiet­nesse and tranquillity in your soule, and may advance your contemplation: beta­king your selfe for that purpose to the si­lence and solitude of some close retreate, where you may lye secure at anchor, free from the Rocks and dangers of this fading life (against which so many doe suffer unhappy shipwrack) and be sheltered from the noisefull stormes of the deceitfull world. But while you are in this haven you must not grow remisse, as though now all dangers were past, and your worke were at an end; but you must see your selfe with a continuall vigilancy to keepe your outward senses strongly shut, and to watch narrowly your owne hart; so as no enemy may breake in upon it, and cause in it any disquiet, or taint the purity of it with the drossie images of sensible and terrene ob­jects. This purity of heart is the top of all spirituall exercises, and is the end for which he that aspireth at Evangelicall perfection, forsaketh the world; and is the compensation that in this life he can have [Page]of all his labours. And therefore you must strive with all earnestnesse to free your heart, and to sequester your senses and affections from all objects whatso­ever that may hinder the liberty of your spirit, or that may have any power to draw or inveigle, or bind you to them. And you must summe up all the affecti­ons of your soule, and recollect all the dispersions of your heart, and fixe them inseparably upon that true and supreame good, which being but one, and in it selfe most simple, containeth all good in it. And by such close adhesion to God, and dereliction of all created objects, and rejecting of all terrene and fraile affections, you must endeavour to trans­forme your heart through Jesus Christ in­to a kind of divine nature; and when once you come to thrive so happily in this high imployment, of unclothing and purifying your imagination from all species and images residing in it, and of refining and exalting your heart to such a simplicity that it can rest no where but in God, and that you now begin to suck in­to the bowels of your soule pure streames from the fountaine of his divine provi­dence, and that you relish them savourly, [Page 17]and that you unite your selfe to him by conforming your self in every thing to his divine will; then this alone, this single exercise is all that you need busie your self about. This will suffice for your whole occupation. In this will be summed up all your other studies; your reading and me­ditating of the holy scriptures, your lov­ing of god and of your neighbour. And in a word, this will bring you to the high­est degree of perfection that this life is ca­pable of, by such wayes and paths as no man is able to delineate, but are purely the work of the holy Ghost within you, and of his unction. Let therefore all your study, endeavour, and labour be to reduce your heart unto such a simplicity, that be­ing unmoveable at the strokes of all out­ward objects upon your fantasie, you may repose your understanding, and settle your affections with such tranquillity, and fixednesse in God, within your selfe, as if your soule were already arrived to that happy state of unvariable Eternity, in which the present fruition of the all-com­prehending divinity so overreacheth all times and actions, that there is nothing either past or to come in relation to it; and therefore can admit no change or vi­vicissitude [Page 18]of accidents. And this is attain­ed by forsaking and abandoning your selfe entirely without any restriction, for the love of Jesus Christ; and casting your selfe upon God with a pure heart, and a firme confidence in his all-seeing provi­dence; and resigning your selfe with an unmoved patience and security in all e­vents and tribulations to his Fatherly dis­posing of you. But this cannot be effected, unlesse you turne continually inwards, and there treat closely with your owne heart, without ever wandring astray out of it, and that you deliver your selfe (as far as it is possible) from all outward impli­cations, and that you keep the eye of your soule in a perpetuall purity and tranquillity, and that you preserve your understanding from all commerce with the formes and images of inferior and transitory things; and that you weane the affections of your will from all terrene and fading goods, and settle them with the whole activity of your soule upon the only true supreame good; and that you raise and fixe your memory upon a con­tinuall representation of that essentiall and uncreated good; and that thus your soule, with all the powers and faculties [Page 19]of it, absorbed up in God Almighty, doe become one spirit with him, which is a­greed on all hands to be the highest perfecti­on that in this life mans nature is capable of. For by this union of spirit and love with God; and by such conformity, or ra­ther transformation of your will to Gods eternall wil; you become by grace, such as God is by nature. And you may lay up this for an infayleable truth, that in the very instant wherein a man is enabled by Gods assistance to overcome his own will, by casting from him all inordinate love and sollicitude, and by delivering himself totally in all his necessities into Gods hands, to dispose and steer his course as he pleaseth; he by this becommeth so accep­table to God almighty, that he presently replenisheth him with his grace, by which is kindled such a fire of charity and de­lection in his soule, as immediatly expel­leth all ambiguity and feare, and fastneth his hope and confidence in God. And cer­tainly no condition can be so happy, as to rely securely on all occasions upon him, who we are sure hath no defect in his nature. Therefore if at any time you find a wavering in your owne thoughts, or an inclination to any sollicitude for ought [Page 20]that may have happened unto you, throw your selfe with a carelesse security into his armes; and he will imbrace you, and cure your feares, and will deliver you from the assaults, and from all danger of it. Beleive it, those points if you duly rumi­nate, and digest them within your owne heart; will more conduce to make your life happy, then if you abounded with all the riches, delights, honours, wisdome and knowledge that this deceitfull world can bestow upon her favourites; & that in them you exceeded all the men that have ever lived.

CHAP. VI. That true devotion consisteth in adhering to God by the Vnderstanding, and Will, depured from all commerce with materiall Objects.

Seeing then by how much the more you shall cleanse your thoughts from the drossy images of created objects, and se­quester your self from outward, wordly and sensible occupations; by so much the more your soule will recover her na­turall vigour, and rellish of those objects that are of kinne to her; The best lesson you can learne, is to keep her from all commerce with the ideas and images of [Page 21]corporeall things. For certainely there is nothing so pleasing to God, as a mind in such a state: And when he findeth such a one, who being free from all carnall af­fairs, passions, and distractions, attendeth unto him onely, and with a pure under­standing fixeth singly upon him; then he maketh good what he hath said of him­self, that it is his delight to be with the chil­dren of men. Whereas if you suffer your me­mory to lodge the species of sensible ob­jects in her store-house, or allow your thoughts and imagination to entertaine themselves with such, it is impossible but that your soul should be tincted, either with the relicks of what you have former­ly conversed with, or with the impressions of what you are presently busy about. And then you may be sure the holy Ghost (who withdraweth himself from those thoughts that are without understanding) will make himself a stranger unto you. Therefore he who loveth Jesus Christ tru­ly, ought to be so united by a pure under­standing, & by a good will to the goodness, & to the wil of god, and so abstracted from all wordly considerations, and so void of all passions, that he heed not what opini­ons other persons do entertaine of him; [Page 22]whether he be beloved, or hated; esteem­ed or derided; or what any man can at­tempt or effect against him. For, it is the goodness of the Will that supplyeth for all things, and is above all things. And therefore as long as a man is owner of a good Will, and is purely con­formable, and united to God in his Vn­derstanding; he is out of danger of recei­ving any prejudice by his flesh, or sensuall part, or by his outward man, though it should be inclined to evill, and be resty and benummed to good; nay though his inward man should be dry and heavy in the exercise of devotion, he is safe, as long as he cleaveth firmely to god by faith, and by good will in the superiour part of his soul. And this he doth, when he reflecteth upon his own imperfection, & nothingness; and frameth a strong and deep judgement, that all his good consisteth in his creator onely, and with all the powers and facul­ties of his soul renounceth himselfe, and all creatures, and drowneth himself and all his powers in his creator, in such sort that he directs all his operations purely and entirely to him, and neither seeketh, nor desireth any thing but him, in whom he already perceiveth that all good, and [Page 23]al perfect felicity is comprised. And by thus do­ing, he is in a manner transformed into God: so that he can neither think, nor understand, nor love, nor remember any thing but God, and of God: and if he chanceth at any time to see either himselfe, or any creature, he seeth them not as they are in themselves, but onely as they are in God. Nor doth any share of his love rest in them, but all of it passeth through them to God, and resteth in him. And this knowledge of truth alwaies rendreth a soul truely humble, and maketh it severe to it selfe, without ever judging others; whereas worldly wisedome swelleth a soule with pride, vanity, and empty winde. Take this then for the foundation of all spirituall doctrine; that if you desire to arrive to the true knowledge, service, familiarity, and full possession of God Almighty; you must necessarily devest your heart of all sensible love, not onely of all per­sons whatsoever, but of all creatures whatso­ever; that so you may with a pure and entire heart, and with all the powers of your soule, apply your selfe, freely, without all double­nesse, care and solicitude to your Creatour, casting your selfe in all occasions with a full confidence upon his single providence.

CHAP. VII. In what manner ones heart is to be recol­lected within ones selfe.

IT is very truely said in the book of the Spirit and the Soule, Cap. 21. that to ascend up to God, is to enter into ones selfe. For without all doubt, he, who turning his operati­ons inwards, pierceth▪ through himselfe, and goeth beyond himselfe, is really and truely raised up to God. Wee must therefore have a care to recollect our heart from the dispersions, and distractions of this world, and to recall it to those joyes it will find within it selfe; that so it may in time be enabled to keepe it selfe steady in the light of divine contemplation. For the life and rest of our heart consisteth in fixing it by earnest desires upon the love of God, and in tasting the sweetnesse of those consolations, which with a liberall hand hee giveth to those who love him. And the reason is obvious why we are so frequently frustrated of the experimentall enjoying of this happines, and are not able to tast and savour it in the full sweetnesse of it. For whiles our soule effuseth it selfe upon exterior objects, and is choaked with the sollicitude of transitory things, shee entreth not into her selfe, by the setting before her eyes those solid considerations which her [Page 25]memory ought alwaies to be stored withall; whilst she is pestered and overclouded with the images of creatures, she returneth not into her selfe by the superiour part of her understand­ing, into which no such object can have ad­mittance; and whiles shee is intangl'd with concupiscences, she is hindred from reverting into her self by vehement desires of that interi­or sweetnesse, and spirituall joy, which belong­eth onely to a purified and enflamed soule: & so lying groaning among these present ma­teriall, and fading objects, she is not able to turne her selfe inwards, and discerne the image of God that is formed there. It is therefore absolutely necessary for him who aymeth at this noble and high pitch, that with profound humility, and yet withall with entire confi­dence he raise himselfe above himselfe, and a­bove the whole machine of creared beings, by the abnegation of them all; saying thus to himselfe; he whom my heart hath chosen from among all things, whom it seeketh above all things, and whom it loveth and desireth be­yond all things, is not to be knowne by my senses, nor comprised by my imagination; but is above all that is Sensible, & above all that is Intelligble: he is not perceptible to any faculty of mine, but yet he is such, as I may desire, and love him with all the powers and faculties of [Page 26]my soule: he is not representable by any shape, yet I may thirst after him with the most enfla­med affections that can be raised within mee: nor can he be prised, or valued neere his worth, by all I can say or thinke of him; and yet my heart, if it be cleane from all drossie affections, can seise upon him, and unite it selfe to him by excesses of love. For he is beautifull, and de­lightfull, infinitely beyond all things in the world, & is of infinite goodnesse & perfection. And then after such like discourses and consi­derations, his soule entereth yet deeper into it selfe, and raiseth it selfe yet higher above it selfe, and looseth it selfe (as I may say) in the divine mist of incomprehensi­ble light. And this manner of ascending even to the aenigmaticall beholding of the most holy Trinity, in Jesus Christ, is by so much the more enflamed and vehement, by how much those operations, which carry the soule upwards, are more interiour; and is by so much the more profitable, & raiseth one so much higher, as the love one soareth with is more vigorous and fervent. For in spirituall operations the measure of their height and excellency is their interiournesse, and recollectednesse from all outward dissipation. Therefore you must not give over, or sit you down to rest, till you have gotten some tast, as it were an earnest-penny of [Page 27]that fulnesse which will hereafter swell you up; and till you have obtained some first fruits of that heavenly sweetnesse which will hereaf­ter please beyond all measure the spirituall pa­late of your soule: nor must you slacken your pace in running after that divine odour you begin to have the wind of, till you come to see the God of Gods in Sion. For you must settle this as a fundamentall rule in the progression of the soule, and in the adhesion and union to God within you, that you must never retire nor repose, till you have obtained what you ayme at. Consider those who travell up a mountaine; and apply to your case what hap­peneth unto them. If a soule engulfe her selfe by concupiscence among those things that slide a­long beneath her, she presently loseth her way in a labyrinth of infinite distractions, and of oblique and crooked waies, and is as it were divided from her selfe, and is torne into as ma­ny peeces, as there are severall objects that she is glewed unto by her desires. And from hence proceedeth the instability of mens actions, without any fixednesse upon the resolutions they had once taken; their toylsome running, without arriving to the end of the course, and their perpetuall labour without any rest. But if a soule doe raise her selfe by divine af­fections, and love, from what is beneath her, [Page 28]and would entangle her in a multitude of di­stractions; and, forsaking all creatures without her, do recollect her selfe within her selfe unto that one, immutable, all-sufficient good, where­of she will find the image within her selfe; and doe learne to dwell and converse alwaies with it; and doe cleave inseparably to it, by enfla­med desires and affections; such a one will en­crease daily in strength and perfection, pro­portionably to the knowledge and desire that lifteth her up to that one supreame, immutable good; Till she herselfe become at the last im­mutable too; and arrive without feare of change, to that true life, which is none other but God himselfe; where without all succes­sion, or variety of actions, & without all vicissi­tude of time, she may repose eternally in that interior quiet, and secret mansion of the divi­nity; unto which the contemplation of Jesus Christ will bring her, who is the way that all they must travaile in, who propose heaven for their journeies end; and is the truth of the Un­derstanding, and the life of the Soule.

CHAP. VIII. How, in all chances, a spirituall man ought to resigne himselfe to God.

I Conceive, that by what is hitherto said, you now discerne how the more you cleanse your imagination from the ideas of all outward things, and sequester your selfe from all wordly and created objects, and unite your selfe to God by your Will and Vnderstanding, so much the more you approach to the state of innocency & per­fection. And what condition can be better, happier, or more delightfull then that? strive then to keep your mind free from all impressions that may amuse or intangle it: and let not your thoughts have any commerce with the world, or even with your freinds; nor be you concerned in the prosperities, or adversities, either of them, or of your selfe; nor busie your mind with any worldly affaire whatsoever, either past, present, or to come: Nay, not so much as to be over sollicitous of your owne past sinnes: but with a kind of confi­dent simplicity, and purity of heart, ima­gine your selfe to be out of the world, singly with God almighty; as though your [Page 30]soule were already in the state of Eternity, sever'd from your body. Which if she really were, it is certaine she would then no long­er trouble her self with secular affaires, nor care what posture the world were in, nor be concerned with peace or warre; or faire weather or foule, or any other secular oc­current whatsoever; but would attend wholly, & uniformedly to God alone, and would rest in him, and cleave inseparably to him. Begin from this very houre, in some sort, to doe thus. Sever your selfe e­ven now, by your affections, from your owne body. Banish from your thoughts all created things whatsoever, either pre­sent, past, or to come; and fixe the purified eye of your soule, as steadily, and as earnest­ly as you can, upon the eternal, increated light. And when you are throughly clean­sed from all corporeal images, & your soul is delivered from all worldly incumbran­ces and mists, you will become like an Angell that were assigned to a body, but received no prejudice in his operations by that society, nor were annoyed with vaine and ungovern'd thoughts. Let your spirit therefore strengthen it selfe against all manner of temptations, trouble, and inju­ries; that in all fortunes it may remaine [Page 31]unmovable in God. And when any distur­bance, or tediousnesse, or opression of mind shall grow upon you, be not for that de­jected, or out of hart, or betake your selfe to vocall prayers, or to outward consola­tions: but attend onely to raise your selfe up to God by pure acts of your will, and of your understanding, and to adhere to him in the superior part of your soule, whither your corporeall part will or no. For a soule that is truly devout, ought to be so united with God, and to conforme her will so entirely to his that she have no relation or adhesion to any creature, no more then if her selfe were not yet created; or as though there were nothing else in being, but God and she. And such a one will receive all things with indiffer­ence, from the hand of divine providence; and resigne her selfe uniformely in all oc­casions to God, with patience, tranquillity, and silence. When therefore you shall have arrived to this state, no creature will then interpose it selfe between God and you. And this is that, which by the profession of religion we aime at. For by the vow of voluntary Poverty, we deprive our selves for the whole durance of our life of all outward goods: by the vow of Chastity we [Page 32]renounce our bodyes; and by the vow of Obedience, we forsake our wills, and even our soules themselves: so that after these, nothing remaineth that may inter­vene between god and us, to keep us at a distance from one another. This we en­gage our selves unto, when we enter into religion, & cloth our selves with the habit of our order. But whether or no our inward purity do answer to our outward professi­on, that resteth between God and our own consciences. But certainely we should degenerate exceedingly, and sin grievously against God, and against his Justice, if we should do otherwise, and should preferre the creature before our Creatour; and by our affections, and desires, cleave rather to that, then to him.

CHAP. IX. That the contemplation of God is to be pre­ferred before all other exercises.

Now because all things that are not God, are but works of his hand, & ef­fects proceeding from him their Creator, & that their powers & beings are limited, and, as being produced of nothing, are allwayes tending to nothing; it is evi­dent [Page 33]that whiles they exist, there cannot passe a moment wherein they draw not their beings, their conservations, their working, and all else that followeth of their beings, from God their Creatour who is the fountain & well-head of all Be­ing: in respect of whom they are not one­ly lame and defective, but even as nothing is to that which is Being it self, and as that which is finite and narrowly circumscri­bed, is to what is infinite. And therefore in him onely, and about him, and for him, let us employ all our whole life: admit­ting his infinite Wisedome, his infinite power, and other his infinite perfections, who is able with one act of his will to create if he please infinite new worlds, each of them infinitely more perfect then this which he hath created. Without doubt no contemplation of the under­standing, nor fruition of love by means of the affections is so profitable, so perfect, and so blissfull, as that which hath direct­ly for its object God almighty our Crea­tor, and true supreme good, from whom all things doe flow, in whom all things are contained; by whom all things are preserved, and for whom all things were made; who is infinitely all-sufficient both [Page 34]to himself, and to all things else: who containeth in himself from all eternity the perfections of all things whatsoever, resumed in so pure a simplicity, that he hath no mixture in him, nor hath any ac­cident belonging to him, but all that is in him, is he himself: with whom, and by whom, all the causes of fleeting and decay­ing things have a permanent stability: in whom reside the immutable originalls of whatsoever is subject to change and vicissitude: and in whose essence do live the eternall principles and modells of all creatures whatsoever, either reasonable or unreasonable, or any wayes depending of time: who completeth all things: who en­tirely filleth all things, and every thing, essentially with himselfe; who is more inward, and more present to every thing, then the thing is to it selfe: and lastly, in whom all things are summed up and u­nited together, and do live eternally. But if any person should through weaknesse of capacity, or want of trayning to these considerations, find them of too hard di­gestion for him; and be inclined to ground his immediate contemplation rather upon the creatures, then upon the creator: yet let him have a care to order his medita­tion [Page 35]or contemplation in such sort, as out of it may rise in him a delectation in God one and threefold; and in his brest may be kindled the fire of divine love, and of true life, which may light and guide him to eternall felicity. And herein con­sisteth the difference between the contem­plation of faithfull Christians, and that of the heathen Philosophers. For these latter directed their contemplation to them­selves; and therefore it resteth in the un­derstanding; the bettering of which was the end & scope of their meditation. But chris­tians doe imploy themselves in this exer­cise, for the love of him whom they con­template; that is, of God, who is the object of their contemplation. And therefore it resteth not finally in their understanding by cognition; but passeth to their will by love and affections. For it is much happi­er for a man to know Jesus Christ, and be united to him spiritually by grace and Charity; then without them, to have him in them corporally, or even essentially. Now the ready meanes to enlarge the eye of contemplation, is, to have ones soule abstracted from all creatures, and to keep it reflected upon it selfe; whereby it mak­eth a ladder of it selfe, by which it ascend­eth [Page 36]to the contemplation of God himselfe. And when it is fixed, there it burneth with desire of heavenly, eternall, and divine goods; and looketh upon all transitory ones at a huge distance, considering them indeed as nothing. But of the different methodes of contemplating God, that which proceedeth by negations, is the more excellent & sublime. In which we begin by denying all corporeall things of him, or whatsoever may be grasped by our senses, or figured by our imagination. Then we proceed by denying of him, all intelli­gible objects, or whatsoever may be fad­domed by our understanding. And lastly, we deny even Being it selfe of him, in that sense, and under that notion, as we con­ceive the Beings of creatures. And then we are arrived (according to Dionysius Areo­pagita) to the highest pitch of union with God, that our nature is capable of in this life. And this is the mist which God is said to inhabit; Into which Moyses entered; and by it come to unaccessible light. But in this journey we must advance by order­ly steps, the animal part must precede the spirituall. And therefore we must be­gin with the labour of action, before we can attaine to the rest of contemplation; [Page 37]and we must lay a foundation of morall vertues, before we can ascend to the top of speculative ones. All which when thou hast seriously considered (my soule) tell me if it were not folly and madnesse to busie thy selfe in vaine about multi­plicity of things? Dost thou not see how thou art still in want, & in necessity, as long as thou entertainest thy selfe with them? Give over then all other imployments and thoughts; and settle thy selfe to this onely one of contemplating, and loving the one onely true good, in which all good is com­prised, and thou needest no more. Oh! how unhappy were that man who knowing all things else, and enjoying all things else, were in the mean time ignorant of him? And though he should know all things, together with him; yet they would adde nothing to his happinesse: for that consist­eth singly in him. And therefore the Evan­gelist saith, The knowing of thee is eternall life: Jo. 17. And the Prophet, I shall be sa­tiated when thy glory appeareth. Ps. 16.

CHAP. X. That actuall and sensible devotion is not so much to be regarded, as to adhere to God with ones will.

BUt when I so much inculcate the rays­ing of affections, and love in the soule, my intention is not to advise you to insist upon actuall devotion, or upon such sen­sible sweetnesse (oftentimes accompanyed with teares) which the spirituall exercises of tender and devout persons are frequent­ly accompanyed with. I mean only that you be mentally united to God by your will in the superior part, and intellectuall, of your soule. For no devotion whatso­ever, or spirituall exercise is of so high and excellent a straine, or so pleasing to God, as to keep our mind free from the images, likenesse, and Ideas of creatures. And this is that which particularly be­longeth to a religious man, and which his profession obligeth him unto. For as by his vow he hath renounced all crea­tures whatsoever; so in his practise he ought to keep his mind free from them, to the end he may have his thoughts and affections continually fixed and riveted [Page 39]upon God alone. And therefore be careful to renounce your selfe in all things; that so having reduced your selfe into a per­fect nakednesse of all creatures, you may follow Christ our Lord God and Saviour, and tread in those steppes he hath marked out unto us, who was truly poore, chast, and obedient; and was humbled lower then ever man was: many were scandaliz­ed (as appeareth in the Gospell) because their weak eyes, not being capable of that divine light that shone in all his actions, they rejected and were offended at what was too sublime for them. Now to give you an instance of the abstraction I require in you from all created things, whereby you may conceive what it is I recommend unto you in all the rest; I pray you consider what Sentiments a separated soule hath of her body she hath left behind her. Certain­ly she regardeth not what becometh of it, nor is she concerned whither it be burned or hanged, or any wayes contumeliously u­sed; nor hath she any regret for any inju­ries, ill treatments or scornes that may be heaped upon it. But she hath all her powers & attentiō fixed upon that state of Eternity she then enjoyeth, and upon that one sin­gle necessary thing that our Saviour hath [Page 40]recommended in the Gospell. Luc. 10. Such sentiments as these I would have you beget in your mind, even in this life, whilst your soule is in your body. Regard it no more, then if your soule were parted from it, and let all your thinking be of that one necessary point: and rest confi­dent, you will here find a wonderfull in­crease of grace and swift progresse in ob­taining true purity of mind, and simplici­ty of heart. For that one necessary thing will immediately follow of it selfe, upon your banishing all images from your thoughts, and upon your withdrawing your selfe from all implications, proceed­ing from created objects; and you shall then immediately find God shining in your soule, and you will feele her closely united to him, that nothing can sever her from him. Neither will any allurements inveigle her, nor any torments force her from her beloved. You will be invincible in all tentations and assaults; as the holy Martyrs and Fathers were, and the rest of the elect, and all those that are now Saints in heaven: who despising all created things, attended to no other thought but such as concerned security and eternity of the soule in God. And thus armed within, [Page 41]and united to God by the affections of their will, they overlooked and neglected all the things of this world, as though their soule were quite out of it, by having taken leave of their body. Thus you see the admirable power that a rightly placed love, and a will united to God hath, rven so much, as though through the impression that a soule receiveth then from God, and through her spirituall separation from her compartner the flesh, she looketh upon her outward man at a far distance, and as if he belonged not to her, and consequent­ly neglecteth all the violences that can be used to her flesh, as though they were exe­cuted upon an other, or upon some crea­ture that were not a man. For he who ad­hereth to God, becometh one spirit with him: and consequently in respect of that of him by which he adhereth to God, he ceaseth in some sort to be himselfe, or what he was before. Of which transforma­tion the fleshly part not being capable, but remaining still in its owne grossie na­ture, it is as it were divorced from the soule, that hath taken too high a flight for her flesh to follow her in; and therefore she looketh downe upon it as if it concerned her not. Be sure therefore never to give [Page 42]admittance within you to any thought un­worthy of God: but remember that your happinesse and perfection dependeth on raising up your soule to him; and on having him al­waies present to the eye of your understanding; and on fixing it so attentively upon him, that it looke upon nothing beside, as though there were nothing in the world but God and your selfe. And in this union you will enjoy those happy embraces, that are in this life a faire beginning of the blessednesse and joyes of the next.

CHAP. XI. In what manner we are to resist temptati­ons, and to beare tribulations.

THere is no man who commeth to God with a true and entire hart, but he is tryed with sundry vexations and temptations; in which I can give you this comfort, that though you be troubled by feeling them, yet you will receive no prejudice by them, as long as you yeeld no consent unto them, but beare them with humility, patience, and equality of mind. And if you should be assaulted with temptations of blasphemy, oruncleane represen­tations; the best you can doe in that case is to neglect them, and account them as nothing. [Page 43]For be they in themselves never so foule, or wicked, or horrid; yet as long as they go no further than your fantasie, and range there a­gainst your will, they are not to be imputed to you, nor doe they require that you should trouble your conscience with them. The ene­my will certainely fly, and leave you in peace, if you contemne him and his attempts. For he is proud, and cannot endure to be neglected and scorned. And therefore your best remedy is to regard them no more, then as if they were but flyes buzzing before your face against your will. And consider how unseemly it were for the servant of Jesus Christ to be made to loose sight of his master, by the importunity of a contemptible flye, and fall into indignation, murmuring and complaints at so triviall a matter, as a slight temptation of suspicion (for example) a sadnesse, or detraction, or insuffici­ency, or any other such small adversity; all which (like flyes chaced away with the mov­ing of ones hand) are put to flight by an act of the will elevated up to God, and by love set­led in him. For such a will bringeth a man to be the particular possession of God (who will have a care of what is particularly his owne) and to have the Angels his guardians and pro­tectours. And therefore is peace promised to men of good will. Neither can any thing of [Page 44]greater value be offered to God, then a good will. For such a one is the origine of all good­nesse in the soule, and the mother of all vertues. And whosoever hath it, hath compleately all that is requisite for him to be happy. And therefore if any obstacle happen to hinder the good which such a will desireth, God supply­eth, and giveth the recompence, as if the effects had succeeded to his desire: whereupon by an immutable decree he hath entayled merit and demerit upon the will: according to which he proportioneth our reward in heaven, or pu­nishment in hell. And the merit of the will is nothing else but love: that is, a great earnest­nesse to serve God; a sweet affection in plea­sing God, and a most fervent desire of enjoying God. But to conclude the subject of this chap­ter: let this trust comfort you in all temptati­ons, that to be tempted is no sin, but an occa­sion for you to exercise vertue, and a Schoole to profit exceedingly in. And indeed, the whole life of man is but a temptation upon earth.

CHAP. XII. Of the love of God, and of the great power it hath.

ALl that we have hitherto said, and in a word, whatsoever is necessary for salva­tion, [Page 45]is performed best, most compendiously, most securely, and most effectually, by love; which alone, is able to supply for the want of any thing requisite to bring a man to beati­tude; and in it, is contained the plenitude of all good; for by it the object upon which one exerciseth it with earnestnesse, becommeth present to one. It is love onely that turneth us towards God, that transformeth us into God, that we adhere to God by, that uniteth us to God, and maketh us become one spirit with him; and lastly, that rendereth us hap­py in this life by grace from him, and in the next life by glory in him. For, love resteth not, but in the fruition of the object beloved, and in a plenary and peacefull possession of it. It is the way by which God descendeth to mankind, and by which man ascendeth up to God. For where Charity (that is to say, where love) is not, God can have no residence. If therefore we have Charity, we have God: for God is Charity. Nothing hath a keener edge then love; nothing is more subtile, no­thing searcheth farther, nor pierceth deeper. It alloweth it selfe no repose, untill it hath sur­veyed all the qualities and dimensions of what it loveth, and have dived into the very center of it. It will cleave so fast to the beloved object, that it will become one with it, or rather it [Page 46]will not be content, till it have so transformed it selfe thereinto, as it ceaseth to be any longer it self, by becomming (If so I may say) the very thing that it loveth; and that it admitteth no immediate thing whatsoever to remaine, or intervene between it, and what it tendeth un­to, which is God himselfe. Unto whom it tendeth with so great a vehemence and force, that it is in a perpetuall unquietness and acti­vity, untill it have run through all things that lye between them, and have seised upon him, and have submersed it selfe in him. For love hath an unitive and transformative power, that changeth the lover into what hee loveth, and againe the beloved into the lover: so that each of them is in the other as intrinsecally as possibly can be. Which how it is, will the more plainely appeare, if we consider severally the commerce that is between them in the two se­verall powers of the soule, the understanding & the will of him that loveth. First, in regard of the understanding, and apprehensive faculties; the beloved is in the lover by his continuall forming the image of the beloved in his thoughts; where hee converseth intimately with him in a most sweet and delightfull manner; and againe the lover is in the belo­ved, not contenting himselfe with a superfici­all knowledge of what belongeth to him, but [Page 47]using his utmost indeavours, to dive into the inmost secrets of him, and to reach the bot­tom. Secondly, in regard of the will, and of the affective & desiring faculties, the beloved is said to be in the lover by residing in his heart through an affectuous compleasance, and joy­ous delectation in him: and the lover is in the beloved by having the same desires which he hath; by willing the same things which hee willeth; by disliking the same things which he disliketh, by rejoycing and grieve­ing for the same, and by having an exact con­formity with him in all things, as though hee were not a distinct person from him, but even he himselfe. For love draweth the lover out of himselfe, and planteth him in the beloved, and setleth him most intimately there: where­upon it is said in the Canticles, Cant. 8. that love is as strong as death, which carrieth the soule out of the body. And it may well be said, that the soule is more where it loveth then where it liveth. For she is in the beloved according to her owne nature, and as she hath an existence belonging to her selfe, that is, by her will & understanding; whereas her giving life to a body is an action of much lower de­gree, and onely as she is the forme and part of a whole; in which consideration she hath no prerogative above the formes of bruit [Page 48]beasts. We may therefore conclude, that to draw us from outward and sensible objects into our selves, and from thence to carry us to our saviour Jesus Christ; and in him to unite us to his divinity; there is no other way, no other meanes then the love of him, and the ardent desire of his sweet­nesse that through his humanity we may feele, and perceive, and tast the presence of his divinity. So great is the power of love, that it is able to raise the soule from the earth to the highest heaven. Nor is it possible for any person to arrive to Beati­tude, but by the wings of love and desire. Love is the life of the soule, her wedding garment, and her perfection: In which is comprised the Law and the Prophets, and the whole doctrine of our Saviour. And therefore the Apostle saith to the Romans, that love is the fulnesse of the law: Rom. 3. and to Timothy, that charity is the end of all that is comanded. 1. Tim. 1.

CHAP. XIII. Of the quality and utility of prayer: and how ones heart is to be recollected within it selfe.

BUt sithence, we are not able of our selves, either to love, or to doe any o­ther good worke, nor can of our owne stocke offer any thing to God (from whom alone floweth all that is good) that is not already his: the only thing which remain­eth for us to doe, is, that according to the instructions which he hath vouchsafed to give us by his owne divine mouth and blessed example, we have recourse to him by prayer in all our occurrences; and that we prostrate our selves before him, like poore needy beggers, like wretched miser­able bondslaves, like feeble desolate chil­dren; and so with deep groanes lay open our hearts before him, representing our distressed condition with all ingenuity & sincerity, with feare and shame; yet ming­led with confidence and love; and beseech­ing him with the utmost vehemence and fervour of our soule, to protect and assist us in our imminent dangers; and in the close admitting and abandoning ourselves en­tirely and securely into his hands, with­out [Page 50]reserving any thing at all to our selves; but acknowledging whatsoever we have, or are, to be absolutely his. And then, that will be fulfilled in us, which the holy abbot Isack (speaking of his manner of prayer) saith in the following words: Cassian. Collect. 10. Chap. 6. Then we shall be one in God, and our Lord, and only he will be all in all to us; when that perfect love of his with which he loved us first, shall likewise on our side have passed and bee converted into the affection of our heart. Which will be when all our love, all our desire, all our study, all our endea­vour, all that we shall think, imagine, speak and hope will be God alone; and that a like unity as is between the father and the sonne, and againe betweene the sonne and the father, shall be transfused into our soule and mind: that as he lov­eth us, with a sincere, pure, and indissol­vable charity, so we may be joyned also to him by a perpetuall and inseparable di­lection; whereby thus linked unto him, all that we shall desire and hope for, that we shall understand, that we shall speake of, and that we shall direct our prayers unto, may be God only. This therefore ought to be the intention, the [Page 51]ayme, and the end of a spirituall man, that he may come to possesse herein his corruptible body, an image of the next lifes beatitude; and that he may begin in this world, to receive a kind of earnest penny, and tast some drops of that beati­tude, conversation, and glory, which we shall have in heaven. This I say is the end of all perfection; that our soule being pu­rified from all carnall drosse; it may day­ly be refined and sublimed up to spiritu­all objects, untill our conversation, and all the motions and affections of our heart do become one continued prayer. And when our soule, free from all earthly alloy, Cass. Col. 9. cap. 5. shall thus breath and pant after God onely (on whom alone the intention of a spirituall man ought to be fixed, and so such an one, the least separation from him will seem a present and cruel death,) and shall be in a manner sent beforehand to him, by injoying so high a calme from all carnall passions (which might inveigle and draw it to their objects) that it may firmly and in­dissolubly adhere to that one supreame good; then the direction of the Apostle will be fulfilled, who biddeth us pray without intermission; 1. Thes. 5. and in a­nother [Page 52]place, lifting up pure hands eve­ry where without anger and contention. 1. Tim. 2. For where the operation of the mind is absorbed (if so I may say) with such purity, and is transformed from a terrene and grosse nature, to a spirituall and Angelicall shape; then whatsoever she shall receive into her selfe, whatsoever she shall employ her self about; and whatsoever she shall doe, will be a most pure and a most sincere prayer. To conclude, if you shall continue, without interruption, that course I have traced from the beginning of this discourse, it will be as easie and ready for you in your introversion and recollection, to contem­plate and to injoy God, as in nature it is to live.

CHAP. XIIII. That in all judgments, we ought to resort to the witnesse of our conscience.

IT is of no small availe, for attaining spirituall perfection, and the purity and tranquillity of the soule in God; that up­on whatsoever shall be spoken, thought or done concerning us, we presently re­curre in silence to the inward secret of our [Page 53]heart and mind; and there sequestred from all other objects, and wholly recol­lected within our selves, we call our selves to a strict account, for discovery of the bare truth of what we make our inquiry about. And there we shall find that it will be no advantage for us, but rather much prejudice, to be praised and honoured from without, if in the mean time our heart within us reproacheth us of faulti­nesse and guilt. And as it profiteth one nothing to be praised by men, whiles his owne conscience accuseth him: so on the other side, he is never the worse for being contemned, reproached, and persecuted, whiles in the tribunall of his owne heart he findeth himselfe innocent and irrepre­hensible: Or rather, upon such occasions, he hath reason to rejoyce in our Lord with patience, silence, and tranquillity. For no adversity can hurt him in whom iniquity raigneth not. And since it is a certain truth, that as no evill remaineth unpunished, so no good passeth without reward; let us beware of expecting or re­ceiving ours like hypocrits, from men: but referr that wholly and soly to God, to give it us, not in this life, but in Eternity that lasteth for ever. It is then evident, [Page 54]that no action we can doe, can be nobler or better, then alwaies, in all our tribulations, and accidents whatsoever, to resort into the secret of our owne soule; and there in­vocate our Lord Jesus Christ, our helper in our temptations and tribulations; and humble our selves through acknowledg­ment of our owne sinfulnesse; and praise God our Father, that correcteth and com­forteth when he judgeth fit. And let us be sure to receive all things, either concern­ing our selves or others, prosperous or adverse, with equanimity, and with a ready and confident resignation of our selves into the hand of his infallible and Fatherly providence. And by doeing thus, we shall obtaine the remission of our sinns, the delivering us from all bitternesse, the contemning of sweetnesse and security up­on us, the infusion of grace and mercy in­to us, the setling and strengthening us in the familiarity of God, our sucking abun­dant consolations from him, and our firme adhesion and union with him. Let us therefore beware of imitating those, who through hypocrisie, and after a Pharisaicall manner, do strive to appear better, and otherwise then they are; and do labour to give men a better conceit of [Page 55]themselves then in their owne hearts they know they deserve; and do hunt after out­ward humane prayse and glory, whiles their soules within are full of impotent passions and desires, and grievous sinns. Certainly whosoever shall seek after such vanities, which is the extremity of folly and madnesse, the reall good we have formerly mentioned will fly from him; and reproach and shame will in the end betide him. Keep therefore continually before thine eyes the bad that is in thee, and thy unaptnesse to all good. Know thy self aright, that thou mayest be humbled. And considering thy great sinns, and the excessive evills that are in thee, repine not at being esteemed the most unworthy, vile, and abject creature in the world: but repute thy selfe among other men, like drosse mingled with gold, like darnel growing among wheat, like chaffe ming­led with corn, like a wolfe among sheep, and like satan among the children of God; and shunn all honour or preference from others, fly with all might and maine from the infection of this pestilence, from the poyson of praise, and from the vanity of ostentation; least according to the royall Prophet, the sinner be praised in [Page 56]the desires of his owne soule. Ps. 9. For according to the other, They who speake thee blessed, doe deceive thee, and doe de­stroy the way of thy stepps. Isay. 3. And our Saviour threateneth us with woe, when men shall blesse us, and speake well of us.

CHAP. XV. How the contempt of ones selfe may be caused in a man, and how profitable that is.

IT is most certaine that the better a man is acquainted with his owne unworthy­nesse, and basenesse, and the deeper con­ceit he frameth thereof; the further and the clearer he looketh into the Majesty of God; and the meaner a man appeareth in his owne eyes through the valew he putteth upon God, upon truth, and upon justice; the more worthy and pretious he is in the eyes of God. Let us therefore continually busy our thoughts upon those considerations that may beget in us a con­tempt of our selves, and a beliefe that we are unworthy of receiving any good turne. Let us mortifie and displease our selves, and seeke to please God onely. And let us be content to be reputed (as we are) most unworthy and vile wretches. [Page 57]When any tribulations, afflictions, or in­juries do come upon us, let us not be mov­ed at them, nor entertaine any unquiet thoughts, or indignation, or animosity against those that bring them upon us: but with meeknesse and gentlenesse of spirit, let us conclude within our selves, that we deserve all the injuries, scornes and mischiefs, with abandonments that can arrive unto us. For certainly he who is truly penitent, and whose heart is full of compunctions, abhorreth being honoured and loved by men, and is content to be hated, despised, and trodden upon, to the very last; that so he may attaine to true humility, and to a sincere, firme adhesion unto God alone, with a pure heart. Which adhesion to God onely, and loving of him onely, together with the hating of our selves, and thinking worse of ones selfe then of all creatures else, and the deeming himselfe despisable, and desiring to be de­spised and scorned by all men else, requir­eth no outward labour, or strength of body; but rather, the solitude and retirement of the body, whilst the heart laboureth by affections, and the mind is quiet from all worldly affaires: to the end that setting your heart upon the right object, and ban­ishing [Page 58]the distracting multiplicity of creatures out of our mind, and ritiring our senses from all conversation with mean intertainments; our soule may then raise it selfe up to a familiarity with hea­venly and divine things, whiles our body is sequestred by solitude from earthly ones. By doeing thus, we shall change our selves after a sort into God. To attaine unto the perfection of this State, we must be alwaies upon our guard to passe no judgement or censure upon our neighbour, much lesse to contemne or despise him. And we must hartily desire to be account­ed by all men as the drosse of the earth, and the reproach of human nature, and to be abhorred by them like dirt and noy­somenesse, rather then to abound with any delights whatsoever, or to be honoured or advanced by men, or to enjoy any cor­poreall satisfaction, or transitory conveni­ency. And we must wish for no more of the advantages, or continuance of this life, then meerly what is necessary for us to bewaile and lament without intermissi­on our transgressions and sinns, and to grow up dayly in the disestimation, con­tempt, hatred, and annihilation of our selves in our owne eyes; that so we may [Page 59]become more pleasing in Gods. And lastly we must have no regard or sollicitude for any thing in the world besides God alone, but settle all our love and affections upon him, and cleave inseparably to him, and have no object in our hearts, but our lord and saviour Jesus Christ; by whose power all things subsist, and by whose providence all things are governed. The consolations of this life are the most dan­gerous enemies, that can be encountered with to hinder one in such a happy course. Remember then that this is not a place for you to receive delights or contentments in; but to weep and lament in from the bottome of your heart. If then your soule be so dry that you cannot weep, the very consideration of that, will afford you a­bundant matter of teares. But if you doe weep, you will have reason to increase your lamentation, by considering that through your grievous offences and sinns, you have drawn upon your own head this dolefull cause of sorrow; which whiles it lyeth so heavy upon you, what madnesse were it in you to let your thoughts range astray after any other affaìre that you are not concerned in? The delinquent at the barre, that standeth there pleading for his [Page 60]life, and feareth the sentence of condem­nation, from a severe judge, little regard­eth what is done abroad in the market place, or how the sheriffe marshalleth and disposeth his guards for the security of the prisoners. So he that hath considered rightly the condition that his soule is in; and upon that consideration entertaineth such a deep sorrow as belongeth to him; will have no relish of any of the delights of this world, nor will his heart afford any roome for anger, vain-glory, indigna­tion, or any other passion whatsoever to harbour in it. And if at any time you chance to cast your eyes upon the con­tented and cheerfull state of other happy persons, that swimme in the delights of pure love, which banisheth all sorrow; do not presently flatter your selfe that it be­longeth also to you, who are composed of like parts as they, to have a mansion a­mong them. For as there are prisons and dungeons for malefactors, whiles the well disposed citizens live at ease in their owne houses; so there are different exercises and formes of living for those whose past sinns oblige them to penance and mourning, & for those that have preserved themselves with greater purity and innocence. Other­wise, [Page 61]these latter would have no advantage of the former; and injustice would have more freedome then innocence. We may then conclude, that we must abandon all creatures; wee must despise them all; and wee must repudiate and fly from all the delights of this world; that so with entire faith, wee may lay a solid foundation of repentance and mourning. And if once we attaine to love Jesus Christ in truth, and to sigh after him from the bottome of our hearts, and to beare him continually there, & to conform all our actions to the example hee hath given us; and to have a real griefe for our sinns, and to have a lively apprehension of the next world, & to have the considerati­on of the last judgement, and of the eter­nall torments of hell, all waies before our eyes; and to be continually apprehensive and sollicitous of the state we shall be in when we leave this world; we shall then most assuredly be delivered from all af­fections to created things, and be concern­ed with nothing that is of a fleeting and transitory nature: and we shall arrive to such an impassibillity, as not onely to be contented with pressures and encroach­ments upon us, and with injuries done us; [Page 62]but even to be afflicted, and so think that day lost wherein we receive not some scorne, or malediction, or ill intreatment for Gods sake. The perfection of which impassibillity consisteth, in being free from all vices and passions, and in having a pure and cleane heart; and in having our soule adorned and replenished with ver­tues. Which to attaine unto, it will much availe us, to beleive our selves already out of the world; and since we are sure that one day we must necessarily dye; let us make account we are already dead. But because through the frailty of our nature, and the cunning and malice of our enemy (who endeavoreth to slide into our best actions, and so corrupt them) these inferi­our and abstracted exercises may be lyable to miscarriage, as all humane actions are, let this bee the touchstone to try all our thoughts, words, and deeds by; whether they be according to God or no: namely, whether we become more humble, more disaffected with the world, more recol­lected within our selves, and more atten­tive and strong in the pursuite of God. For if we should find it otherwise with us, we might with reason suspect that what we did, were not according to God; [Page 63]nor pleasing to him, nor profitable to our selves.

CHAP. XVI. How the Providence of God extendeth it felfe to all things.

NOw to the end that according to what we have have hitherto discoursed, we may without any disturbance, readily, securely, and calmely be raised up to God Almighty, and bee immediately joyned and united to him, and cleave inseparably to him with a perfect quietnesse, evennesse, and untroubled­nesse of mind, aswell in adversity as in pro­sperity, in death as in life: wee must resigne our selves entirely, and commit all things confidently to his never erring, and never shaken providence. In doing which we can have no difficulty or reluctance, when we call to minde how it is he, and onely he who gi­veth unto all creatures their being what they are, who endoweth them with their individu­all vertues, powers and faculties; who ena­bleth them to work and performe all the ope­rations that their nature can reach unto; and who doth so wonderfully order and range their infinite variety with exact proportion of number, weight and measure, that like a mu­sick of so many parts, they compose the ad­mirable [Page 64]harmony and beauty of the created world. If you consider the plants of nature, you will finde them seated between two un­derstanding agents; the one giving them their essentiall being, the other working in them such modifications, and changes, as may bee introduced into them by art. This latter is the share of the sonnes of Adam; who how ad­mirable soever they be in the rare productions of their Dedalean witts; yet they must sit still, and their Art must remaine buried in them, if bounteous nature did not furnish them with materialls and subjects to worke upon. In the same manner Nature her self would fall to no­thing, were it not for a continuall emanation of being into every individuall plant of hers, from him that is the author of all being. For as art presupposeth the productions of Nature, without which shee cannot exercise her skill; so the individualls of na­ture doe presuppose the operation of God almighty; creating, conserving, ordering, and governing them; without which they would presently run into confusion, & into their ori­ginall nothing. And in the whole course of them, & in the oeconomy of them we may reade his infinite power, wisedome, goodnesse, es­sentiall mercy, justice, truth, charity, and unchangeable eternity, and immensity. For [Page 65]nothing can subsist and work by its owne vir­tue and power; it oweth that entirely to God, and to him onely, as being the first mo­ver, the originall principall, and the Cause of all action in every agent whatsoever. He pro­videth immediately for every thing, & cutteth out their shares, even to the least & inconside­rablest creature he hath made. From the high­est to the lowest, none of them escapeth his providence, or swarveth from the line he hath traced out to them; whether it be in the or­dinary course of nature, or in theirs that de­pend of voluntary and free agents, or in theirs that seeme to be hatched out of the casuall concurrence of severall causes, with­out any precedent designe, in those that im­mediatly produce them. This all-seeing and all-governing eye of Gods providence, reach­eth not onely to all that is in nature, but even to all that God himselfe can doe. For since he can doe nothing but according to the rules of wisdome, and that a wise agent disposeth all things that are in his power, by order and foresight; it is necessary that all he doth, must fall under the order of his providence. So that it extendeth to all things, and to all actions, even to the reclusest thoughts of mans heart. Therefore Saint Peter hath [Page 66]reason to advise us, to abandon ourselves wholly to his all-sufficient provi­dence; without having any anxiety for what may befall us, when he saith, that we ought to cast all our sollicitude upon him, for that he hath care of us. 1 Pet. 1. As also the royall Prophet in these words: Pitch your thoughts upon the Lord, and he will feed you. Ps. 54. And the like you will find in Ecclesiasticus in these words. Look about you children of men, and know that no man ever hoped, and was confounded, nor remained under his commandements, and was forsaken by him. Eccle. 2. And our Lord himselfe warneth us that we be not sollicitous, saying what shall we eat? Matt. 6. With­out doubt there is no blessing so great, that we can hope for at Gods hands, but we shall receive it of his liberality and mercy; if we rely on him with due con­fidence, according to his promise: in the Deuteronomy, what place soever your foot shall tread upon shall be yours, Deut. 11. For the measure of a mans receiving, shall be the largnesse of his heart in desir­ing, and his possession shall reach as far as he hath reached out the foot of his confi­dence; which hath moved Saint Bernard to [Page 67]say, God the creator and disposer of all things aboundeth with the bowels of so great mercy, that how great favour and grace soever wee can raise our confidence to begge of him, so great we shall certainly receive at his hands. And therefore our saviour biddeth us in S. Marke, that whatsoever we aske for in our prayers, we should believe that it will be gran­ted us; and the effect will ensue accordingly. And most certainly, the more strong, and the more pressing that our confidence shall be in God; and the more violent assault it shall give him, with humility and re­verence, the more securely, the more a­bundantly, and the more speedily wee shall impetrate and obtain what wee hoped for. The great impediment of such noble confidence; that keepeth it down from soaring to this high and effica­cious pitch, is the wieght of sinne: Where that aboundeth, a soul is lasy and benum­med, and unable to raise it selfe up with confidence to God. For redresse of this mischiefe, let him whose heart is in earnest turned from the world, and converted to God, consider the infinite power of God Almighty. Let him remember how all things are possible to him: and what his Will once determineth, must of necessity [Page 68]be crowned with its effect; and that what he gainsayeth, hath an impossibility of ever coming to passe. And therefore it is as easy to him, if he pleaseth to remitt and cancell an innumerable multitude of sins, be they never so enormous, as to forgive one single one. And from the least single one a sinner is not of himselfe able to rise, and deliver himselfe, no more then from the greatest load of innumerable ones. For of our selves, we are not able so much as to think, much lesse to do any good thing, 2 Cor. 3. All that is of that nature, pro­ceedeth from God onely; who worketh it in us: and to him onely we must referre, and acknowledge it. Therefore our de­liverance from sinne belonging not to our selves upon our own score, but being en­tirely the work of God Almighty his power and mercy; and all things being alike easie to him; wee may with confi­dence commit our selves into his fatherly armes, and promise our selves from him a plenary abolition of all our misdemean­ours, be they never so many and never so great. Yet let us beware that a wrong ap­plication, or a mistaking of this conside­ration, draw us not into presumption, or into a foolish security. For it is also most [Page 69]certain, that looking upon the condition as the case standeth on his part, it is farre more dangerous for him to be involved in many sinnes, then to be under the weight of one only sinne. For it is an inevitable decree, that no evil action can escape un­punished; and to every mortal sinne an infinite punishment is due. If this were not, Gods Justice would suffer thereby: since every such sinne is an injury in a di­rect line done to God himselfe; who is of infinite Dignity, Honour and Reverence. But this is so evident a truth, that I need put no more weight on this side the scale. Whosoever shall look upon his own un­worthyness, is out of danger of falling into presumption. He is in greater, of being kept back by pusillanimity, from those blessings that by a vertuous confidence hee may obtain. Therefore for his comfort and advantage, let us adde to what wee have already sayd, how God (as the A­postle telleth us) hath a certain and infal­lible knowledge, and keepeth an exact account of those who are his: and that it is impossible for any of these to miscarry. They will be preserved secure in the mid­dest of all difficulties, dangers, scandals, schismes, persecutions, quarrels, haeresies, [Page 70]tribulations, adversities, and temptations whatsoever. For God hath foreseen from all eternity the number of his elect; and the last act of their lives, that settleth them in the state of merit; And nothing can change or shake his infallible prevision. All things cooperate to their good, as well the bad as the good, adversity as pro­sperity, as well what is without them, as what is within them, and dependeth im­mediately of themselves: with onely this difference, peradventure, that out of ad­versity they come more refined and shine brighter. Let us therefore securely and readily commit our selves, and all things else to the divine providence; who when it permitteth evill, it is with a designe to draw good out of it. And consequently it is good that such evils should be, and that God should permit them. Nor can they be otherwise, or more, then strictly what he alloweth. For his knowledge fadom­meth the extent of all things; his power mastereth and limiteth them as he pleas­eth; and his will disposeth and turneth them to good. For as all that is good proceedeth from his immediate operation; so those evils that are permitted by him, [Page 71]are turned into good by his goodnesse and power. Out of which we may gather his omnipotency, his infinite wisdome, his clemency through Jesus Christ our Sa­viour, and repayrer, his mercy and justice, the efficacy of grace, and the disability of nature, together with the beauty of the U­niverse, resulting out of the comparing and harmony of contrarieties; the chiefe of which are the vertue and reward of the good, and the wickednesse and punishment of the bad. Nor can wee look upon the course and oeconomy of Gods converting and saving of a sinner, but with exceeding great comfort and joy. On the sinners part, the change of his heart, his contri­tion for having offended God, his confes­sing of his sinnes, and his doing penance for them: On Gods side, his admirable meeknesse, his mercy, his charity, and his infinite goodnesse, are subjects for a man to meditate continually upon, and to praise God everlastingly for. But let him not grow too bold upon Gods mercies, for his delivering a sinner by such admirable and secret pathes from the misery he was enfoulded in; For such grace is not im­parted to all offenders: but the greatest [Page 72]number by farre perisheth (alas) in their dangerous and crooked wayes; and as they are deprived of grace in this life, so are they banished from glory in the next, and condemned to eternal punishment and torment. From which Jesus Christ of his mercy preserve us. Amen.

FINIS.
A CONFERENCE With a …

A CONFERENCE With a Lady about choyce of RELIGION.

LONDON, Printed for Henry Herring­man at the Anchor in the New-Exchange. 1654.

MADAM,

MY being conscious to myself how confusedly and intricately I have delivered my conceptions unto your Ladyship, upon the severall oc­casions of discourse we have had together, concerning that important subject of what faith and religion is the true one to bring us to eternall happinesse (wherein your Ladyship is so wisely and worthily inquisitive and sollicitous) hath begotten this following writing; in the which I will, as nere as I can, summe up the heads of those considerations I have sometimes discussed unto you in conversation. And I will briefly and barely lay them before you, without any long enlargement up­on them; as having a better opinion of the reflections that your Ladyships great understanding and strong reasoning soule will by your selfe make upon the naked object sincerely proposed, then of any commentary I can frame upon it. And in­deed such discourses as these are deeper lookt into, when they are pondered by a [Page 76]prudentiall judgement, then when they are examined by scientificall speculations.

But with your leave, I shall take the matter a little higher then where the chiefe difficulty seemeth to be, at which your Ladyship sticketh; conceiving that if we begin at the root, and proceed on steppe by steppe, we shall find our search the easier, and the securer, and our ascent to the conclusions we shall collect, will be the more firme and vigorous.

We will therefore begin with consider­ing why faith and religion is needfull to a man, before we determine the meanes how to find out the right faith: for that being once setled in the understanding, we shall presently without further dispute reject what religion soever is but propos­ed, that hath not those proprieties which are required to bring that to passe, that Religion in its owne nature aymeth at. And this must be done by taking a survey of some of the operations of a human soul, and of the impressions made in it by the objects it is conversant withall.

1. Your Ladyshipp may be pleased then to consider in the first place, That it is by nature ingrafted in the soules of all man­kind to desire beatitude, (By which word [Page 77]I meane an entire, perfect, and secure frui­tion of all such objects as one hath vehe­ment affections unto, without mixture of any thing one hath aversion from.) For the soule having a perpetuall activity in it, must necessarily have something to en­tertaine it selfe about: And according to the two chiefe powers of it (which are the Vnderstanding & the Will) it employeth it selfe, first in the search and investigation of what is true and good; and then, accor­ding to the judgment it maketh of it, the Wil followeth, and with affections grasp­eth at it, which if it happen to seaze upon, the soule is at content and at rest; but if it misse, it is unquiet, & laboureth with all vehemence to compas it: and if any thing happen that is repugnant to the nature of it, it useth all industry and efficacious meanes to overcome and banish it: so that all the actions and motions of it, tend to gaine contentment and beatitude.

2. In the next place you may please to consider, that this full beatitude which the soule thirsteth after, cannot be enjoy­ed in this life. For it is apparent, that intellectuall goods, as science, contempla­tion and fruition of spirituall objects and contentments, in their owne nature [Page 78]are the chiefe goods of the soul, and affect her much more strongly and violently then corporal and sensual ones can doe: for they are more agreeable to her nature, and therefore move her more efficaciously when they are duely relished. But such in­tellectuall goods cannot be perfectly re­lished and injoyed, as long as the soul is immersed in the body, by reason that the sensuall appetite maketh continual warre against the rational part of the soul; and in most men mastereth it, and in the per­fectest, this earthly habitation doth so draw down and clogge, and benumme the noble inhabitant of it (which would al­waies busie it selfe in sublime contempla­tions) as it may be said to be but in a jayl whiles it resideth here. And experience confirmeth unto us, that the sparkes of knowledge we gaine here are not pure, but have the nature of salt water, that in­creaseth the thirst in them who drink most of it; and we swallow the purest streames like men in a dropsie, who the more they drink are still the greedier of more. Therefore to have this greedinesse of knowing satisfied, and to exercise the powers of our soul in the pure and ab­stracted contemplation of truth, and in the [Page 79]sincere fruition of spirituall objects, we must have patience untill she arrive unto an other state of life, wherein being se­parated from all corporall feces, impedi­ments, and contradictions, she may whol­ly give her selfe up to that which is her naturall operation, and from whence re­sulteth her true and perfect delight. Be­sides, even they who have attained to the greatest blessings (both inward and out­ward) that this world can afford, yet are farr from being compleatly happy; for that state admitteth no mixture of the contrary: which who was ever yet free from, were his fortune never so specious? The very fear of loosing them, that must alwaies necessarily accompany those bles­sings, is such a spoonefull of gall to make their whole draught bitter, as that alone must needs take off the edge and vigour of the contentment that else they might injoy. How little can any man relish the objects of delight, which with never so great affluence, beset him round about, when he knoweth a sharpe and heavy sword hangeth by a slender thred over his head, and at length must fall, and ever af­ter sever him from them? A little distem­per, an accidentall feaver, an ill mingled [Page 80]draught (such a one as the miracle of witt and learning, Lucretius, met withall) is e­nough to turne the brains of the wisest man that is, and in a few houres to blot out all those notions he hath been in all his life labouring to possesse himselfe of, and to render him of a more abject, and despicable condition then the meanest wretch living that hath but the common use of reason. The Genius that presideth over human affaires, delighteth in perpe­tuall changes, and variation of mens for­tunes, so that he who late sat enthroned in greatest dignitie, is all of a sudden preci­pitated head-long unto a condition most opposit thereunto: he that but yesterday had all his joyes enlarged, and swelled up to their full height by the communication of a perfect and entire freind (without which can there be any true joy?) hath to day lost the comfort of all that the world can afford him by the irrecoverable losse of that one freind. In a word, death grow­ing dayly upon him, and incroaching up­on his outworkes, and by houres reduc­ing him into a narrower circle, at length seizeth upon himselfe, and maketh an eter­nall divorce betweene him, and what was dearest to him here.

[Page 82] 3. Our next consideration then shall be to discover what will result out of our swift passage through this vale of miseries, and what impressions we shall carry with us out of this pilgrimage; since we cannot suspect it is a journy assigned us in vain, being the ordinary and naturall course prescribed by the wise author of nature to all mankinde, and the inevitable through­fare for every man in particular. There­fore to proceed on in this method, our third conclusion shall be, that whatso­ever judgement the soul once frameth in this life, that judgement and that affecti­on will perpetually remain in the soul, unlesse some contrary impression be made in it to blot it out; which only hath pow­er to expell any former one. For judge­ments and affections are caused in a man by the impression that the objects make in his soul: and all that any agent aymeth at in any operation whatsoever (be it never so forcible in action) is but to produce a resemblance of it selfe in the subject it worketh upon; and therefore it excludeth nothing that it findeth formerly there (which in our case is the soul) unlesse it be some such impression as is incompati­ble with what it intendeth to effect there; [Page 83]or that the subject is not large enough, both to retain the old and receive the new; in which case the first must be blot­ted out to make room for the latter. But of judgements, and affections, none are in­compatible to one another, but those that are directly opposite to one another by contradiction: Therefore only such have power to expell one another; and all that are not such, are immediatly united to the very substance of the soul, which having an infinite capacity, it can never bee filled by any limited objects whatsoever: so that they alwaies reside in the soul, al­though they doe not at all times appear in outward act; which proceedeth from hence, that new and other images are by the fantasie represented to the soul, and she seemeth to busy herselfe onely about what she findeth there, which being but one distinct Image at a time (for corporall or­gans have limited comprehensions, and are quickly filled with corporal species) she thereupon seemeth to exercise but one judgement, or but one affection at a time. But as soon as the soul shall bee released out of the body (which is like a darke pri­son to wall it in) then she will at one and the same instant actually know and love [Page 84]all those things she knew, and loved in the body; with only this difference, that her knowledge will then be much more distinct and perfect, and her affections much more vehement then they were in this life, by reason that her conjunction here with resistant matter was a burthen, and a clogge unto her, and hindered the activity and force of her operations. The difference of these states, may in some mea­sure be illustrated by a grosse and materi­all example: Represent unto your selfe a man walled up in a dark tower, that is so close, as no ayre nor light can come into it, excepting only at one little hole, and that hole too affordeth no clear and free pas­sage to the sight, but hath a thick and muddy glasse before it. Now if this man would look upon any of the objects that are about this tower, he must get them to be placed over against the hole, unto which he must lay his eye; and then, he can dis­cerne but one at a time, and that but dim­ly neither; and if he will see several bodies, it must be by so many several iterated acts as they are in number. But suppose some Earthquake or exterior violence to break a sunder and throw down to the ground the wals of this tower, leaving the man [Page 85]untouched and unhurt; then at one instant, and with one cast of his eyes, he beholdeth distinctly, clearly, and at ease, all those several objects that with so much labour and time he took but a mistaking survey of before.

4. The fourth consideration shall bee, that after the first instant wherein the soul is separated from the body, she is then in her nature no longer subject or liable to any new impression, mutation or change whatsoever. For that which should cause any such effect, must be either a material or a spirituall agent: But a material one cannot work upon it, for that requireth quantity in the patient, whereby it may be applyed unto it to exercise its operati­on upon it: Nor can any spiritual agent cause any succession of new alteration; But all that spirits work one upon ano­ther is done at once and at one instant: which we shall discerne the clearer by ex­amining the reason why there is succession and time taken up in the alterations that are wrought amongst material things, for in them, by reason of their quantity that causeth an extention and distance of the parts, the agent, although it have never so much disposition and efficacy to worke, [Page 86]must have his severall parts applyed to I the severall parts of the patient by local motion; which requireth time for per­formance thereof. And besides, even in the agent it selfe, the grossenesse and hea­vinesse of the matter giveth an allay, and is a clogge to the activity of the forme; and as it were pulleth it back whiles it is in action. But this is not so in spirituall substances, and therefore we may conclude that among them, in the same instant that the agent is disposed to worke, the action is performed, for on his part there is no­thing to retard it, nor is there required a­ny locall motion which should take up time; and likewise by the same reason, in the very instant that the patient is dispos­ed to receive any impression, it is wrought in it: And thus, although there were ne­ver so many agents, and every one of them to performe never so many actions, they would be all done, and ended in one and the same instant.

5. The next consideration shall be, that those persons who in this world had strong and predominant affections to sen­sible and materiall objects; and dyed in that state, shall be eternally miserable in the next; for by what we have saied, it ap­pearth [Page 87]that those affections will eternally remain in the soule; and that after the se­paration of it from the body, they can ne­ver be blotted out of it, or changed; And the affections of a separated soul are much more ardent and vehement then whiles it is in the body. But it is impossible they should ever attaine in that state to the fru­ition of what they so violently covet and love, and yet for its sake they neglect all other goods whatsoever that they might have, whose beauty and excellency not­withstanding they plainly discerne: they cannot choose therefore but execrate themselves for their fondly misplaced (yet then eternally necessary) affections, and pine away (if so I may say) with perpetu­all anguish and despaire of what they so impatiently, and enragedly desire, and ne­ver can obtain.

6. The sixt consideration shall be, that to be happy in the next life, one must not settle their predominant affections upon any creature whatsoever, or any good that we can naturally attain to the knowledge of in this life. For what natural good soever we love or enjoy here, we must by death be divorced from, and (as wee have said before) that separation will cause per­petuall [Page 88]sorrow, because the affections re­main unchangeable. And although wee should place our felicity in naturall know­ledge, or any other intellectuall good whatsoever, yet that cannot satisfie the desires, and fill the capacity of the soule, though it be never so perfectly injoyed: for they are infinite; and this can be col­lected but out of particular objects (for the whole created universe is but so) and therefore they hold no proportiō together; but the soule having nothing else to fill it withall, although it should not be tor­mented with the former mentioned cor­rosives of preposterous affections, yet it cannot be at rest and quiet, and the thirst of it satisfied by that drop of water, in com­parison of the vehement ardor of it.

And thus it followeth, that either man was not created for a determinate end, and for a state convenient for his nature, and able to satisfie the originall appeten­ces of his soule; or at the least, no man can by naturall meanes arrive to the end and period of happinesse.

7. But now to proceed in the pursuance of this method of reasoning, and to follow hence forward the conduct of a superna­turall guide, since nature quitteth us here, [Page 89]having lead us on as long as she was able to see; we may in the seaventh place consid­er that God when he created man did not assigne him to remaine in the state of pure nature, but did out of his goodnesse and liberality conferre something upon him that exceeded the sphere of his nature. For else the first part of the precedent conse­quence would follow; which were not only impious, but absurd to say, to whoso­ever considereth the infinite goodnesse, wisdome and omnipotency of God. For as heat being essentiall to fire, cannot but produce heat in whatsoever it hath appli­cation unto; so God being in his owne essence goodnesse it selfe, cannot chuse but doe unto whatsoever proceedeth from him, all that good which the nature of it is capable of; (whether by naturall or su­pernaturall meanes) and his wisdome can readily contrive the meanes to bring that to passe which his goodnesse disposeth him to doe; and his omnipotency as easily acteth what his other two atributes have projected; so that there wanting an infinite object to satisfie the infinite capacity of the soule, and without which she must be eter­nally misefable; it remaineth, that he who gave that capacity, must also afford the [Page 90]object, & assigne means how to compas & gaine it. All which we have already prov­ed is out of the reach of nature to discerne: and therefore it followeth of consequence, that the author of nature must endow man with some supernaturall giftes, if he be in a fit disposition to receive them, which may bring him to the supernaturall end he was created for.

8. Our eighth conclusion shall be that of these supernaturall gifts, the first, and the ground and foundation of all the rest, is faith. For we have already determined, that we cannot by any naturall meanes attaine to the knowledge of any object that may render us compleatly happy in the next life; And yet such knowledg must be had, to the end we may direct our ac­tions to gaine the fruition of that object Therefore there is no way left to compasse this, but by the instructions and disci­pline of some Master, whose goodnesse and knowledge we can no wayes doubt of; by which two perfections in him, we may be secure that he neither can be de­ceived himselfe, nor will deceive us. Now the Doctrine that such a Master shall teach us for such an end, we call faith.

9. In the ninth place we must determine [Page 91]that this Master must be God and man. For first by our discourse upon naturall principles, we have proved, that to a­void misery in the next life, we must de­ny our senses the content and satisfaction that they naturally desire in corporeall things, and that we must withdraw our affections from all materiall objects: And next we have collected that the object we must know and love, to be happy, doth exceed the reach and view of any created understanding to discerne: Therefore we may safely conclude that this doctrine ought to be delivered unto us originally by God himselfe. For after the first branch, which is of withdrawing our affections from sensible goods; although out of na­turall principles that doctrine is to be collected, yet that is not a sufficient meanes to settle mankind in generall, in the beliefe of it: For the discourse that proveth it, is such an abstracted one, as very few are capable of it, being that it requireth both a mature age to be able to reason so (before which time many dye) and likewise strong and vigorous powers of the understanding, which we see more doe want, then are endowed withall: And besides, of those that have both yeares [Page 92]and capacity to wield such thoughts, there are so few that are not in a manner forced away from such interior recollections by their particular vocations, and the natu­rall necessities they are obliged unto; as to beate it out by themselves is not a suffi­cient meanes to serve mankind in this case. And to thinke that those few, who haveing great partes, may with much la­bour have attained to the knowledge thereof, should instruct others that are simpler, and are taken up by other imploy­ments and courses of life, were very irra­tionall; since no man, be he never so wise, is such but may be deceived; and then, how can it be expected that another man should without sensible demonstrati­on beleive his single word in a matter so contrary to sense, and wherein he must forgoe so great contentments and present utility?

And for the other branch, which is in the instructing mankinde concerning the right object that he is to know, and love, to be happy, that is altogether out of the reach of any man whatsoever by him­selfe to discover; and therefore much lesse can he in his owne name instruct others therein: And if any man should goe about [Page 93]to doe so, and to introduce a new doc­trine of faith not formerly heard of, draw­ing the arguments for confirmation there­of onely out of his owne ratiocination and discourse; that alone were enough to convince him of falshood; since he should thereby undertake to know what were impossible for him of himselfe to attaine to the knowledge of.

Therefore it is necessary that the au­thor of the doctrine we must believe, the instructor of the actiōs we must performe, and the promiser of the happinesse we may hope for, be God himselfe; who onely knoweth of himselfe what is sayd in mat­ters of these natures, & who onely is nei­ther liable to be deceived, nor can deceive others; as being the prime verity it selfe.

But because the weaknesse of our intel­lectuall nature is such, whiles we remaine here in our earthly habitations, imprison­ned in our houses of clay, as we cannot lift up our heavy and drousie eyes, and sted­dily fixe our dimme fight upon the dazel­ing and indeed invisible Deity, nor enter­tain an immediate communication with him (like the children of Israel, who de­sired that Moses, not God might speak un­to them) it was necessary that God him­selfe [Page 94]should descend to some corporal sub­stance that might bee more familiar and lesse dazeling unto us; And none was so convenient as humane nature, to the end that he might not onely converse freely and familiarly with us, and so in a gentle and a sweet manner teach us what wee should doe; but also preach unto us by his example, and himselfe bee our leader in the way that he instructed us to take. The conclusion then of this discourse, is, that it was necessary, Christ, God and man, should come into the world to teach us what to beleive and what to do.

10. The tenth conclusion shall be, that those unto whom Christ did immediatly preach this faith, and unto whom he gave commission to preach it unto others, and spread it through the world, after hee as­cended to heaven; ought to be believed as firmly as hee himselfe. The reason of this assertion is, that their doctrin, though it be delivered by secondary mouthes, yet it proceedeth from the same fountain: which is God himselfe, that is the prime verity, and cannot deceive, nor be decei­ved. But all the difficulty herein is, to know who had this immediate commissi­on from Christ, & by what seal we should [Page 95]discern it to have been no forged one. The solution of this ariseth out of the same argument which proveth that Christ himself was God, and that the doctrine he taught was true and divine; which is, the miracles and wonders he did, exceeding the power of nature, and that could be ef­fected by none but by God himselfe: for he being truth it selfe, cannot by any acti­on immediatly proceeding from him, witnesse and confirm a falsehood: In like manner the Apostles doing such admira­ble works and miracles as neither by na­ture nor by art magick could be brought to passe, that must necessarily inferre God himselfe cooperated with them to justifie what they said; it is evident that their doctrine (which was not their own, but received from Christ) must bee true and Divine.

11. The eleventh conclusion shall bee, that this faith thus taught by Christ, and propagated by the Apostles, and necessary to mankind to believe (as well that part of it which is written, as the whole which is not) dependeth intrinsecally upon the testimony of the Catholick Church; which is ordained to conserve and deliver it from age to age: (By which Catholike [Page 96]Church, I mean the congregation of the faithfull that is spread throughtout the whole world) for we have proved before, that the way to the true faith ought to bee open and plain to all men, of all abilities, and in all ages, that have a desire to em­brace it: and this cannot be but either by the immediate preaching of Christ; or else by the information (either in writing, or by word of mouth) of them that lear­ned it from him, and their delivering it over to others, and so from hand to hand untill any particular time you will pitch upon. But from Christs own mouth, none could have it, but those who lived in the age when he did: therefore there remain­eth no other mens to have it derived down to after ages, then by this delivery over from hand to hand of the whole congre­gation of fathers or elders dispersed throughout the world, to the whole con­gregation of sonnes or youngers; which course of deducing faith from Christ wee call tradition; so that this conclusion, proveth that the Church is the conserver both of the whole doctrine of faith neces­sary for salvation, and likewise of the di­vine writ dictated by the Holy Ghost, and written by the Prophets, Evangelists and [Page 97]Apostles, which we are also bound to be­lieve. And the same assent that we are to give to the truth of Scriptures (that is to say, that the Scriptures wee have are true Scriptures) the very same we are to give to other articles of faith proposed unto us by the Church: for they alike depend of the same authority; which is the veracity of the Church proposing and delivering them unto us to be beleived. And we may as well doubt that the Church hath cor­rupted the Scriptures, as that she hath cor­rupted any article of faith.

12. The twelfth conclusion shall be, that into the Catholike Church no false doctrine in any age can bee admitted or creep in, that is to say, no false proposition whatsoever can ever be received and im­braced by the Catholike Church as a pro­position of faith. For whatsoever the Church believeth as a proposition of faith, is upon this ground, that Christ taught it as such unto the Church hee planted himselfe, and so left it in trust to bee by it delivered over to the next age. And the reason why the present Church believeth any proposition to be of faith, is, because the immediate preceding Church of the age before, de­livered [Page 97]it as such. And so you may drive it on from age to age untill you come to the Apostles and Christ. Therefore to have any false proposition of faith admit­ted into the Church in any age, doth Sup­pose that all they of that age must unani­mously conspire to deceive their children and youngers, telling them that they were taught by their fathers to believe, as of faith, some proposition which indeed they were not. Which being impossible (as it will evidently appear to any prudent per­son that shall reasonably ponder the mat­ter) that so many men spread throughout the whole world, so different in their par­ticular interests and ends, and of such va­rious dispositions and natures, should all agree together in the forgery of any pre­cise lye; it is impossible that any false do­ctrine should creep into the Church.

But because the force of this argument may peradventure not appear at the first sight to your Ladyship, that happily hath not had much occasion to make deep re­flection upon the certainty that must needs be in the asseveration of any history of matter of fact, subject to the sense, which shall be made by a great company of men so distant from one another, and of such [Page 98]different interests and affections as they cannot conspire together in the forgery of a falsehood; But that you may happily think, since any one man is lyable to bee deceived, or out of some indirect end may be induced to deceive another, it is also possible that a multitude of men (be it ne­ver so great) consisting of particular men, may also deceive or bee deceived: I will therefore for a further declaration of this matter, propose for the thirteenth Con­clusion, that faith thus delivered, is abso­lutely more certain and infallible then a­ny natural science whatsoever. And yet sciences are so certain (I mean such as de­pend of experience and demonstration) as he were not a rationall man that should refuse his assent unto them: And conse­quently he would incurre the like censure that should not yeeld credence to faith, in this manner proposed unto him. In the proofe of this conclusion I must use two words appropriated to philosophy (to wit matter and forme) which is contrary to my intention at the first, which was to ab­stain from all termes of artificial learning, and make onely a familiar discourse that should require no precedent help of study, but onely a clear and strong judgement [Page 99](such as yours is) to weigh the strength of the reasons: But I am the lesse scrupulous to avoid these words, because I know your Ladyship understandeth what is meaned by them; and they have often oc­curred in our discourses. To come then to the examination of this conclusion, I say, that faith dependeth on these two propositions; first, that whatsoever God saith is true; Next, that God said this (whatsoever it be) that is delivered thus by the tradition of the Church. For the for­mer of these assertions, there is no doubt made by any side; since all agree that God being the prime verity, whatsoever pro­ceedeth immediately from him must ne­cessarily be more infallible then any col­lections made from creatures either by experience or ratiocination of men.

The second assertion I shall also prove to be more infallible then any such collecti­ōs; in this manner. Among material things, that are subject to time and place, and are here in the sphere of contraries, and of action and passion, although the lawes that govern them are in the generall cer­taine (else no science could be acquired of them) yet in the particular they are sub­ject to contingency and defection from [Page 100]those lawes; which contingency doth proceed from the resistance of the matter, and the contagion and leprosy (if so I may say) that the matter infecteth the forme withall; which were it not for that, would alwayes constantly worke the same effect in all occasions: and according as the forme hath in particular more or lesse predominance over the matter, the con­tingency and defect in them from the true nature of that body considered in his per­fection, is the greater or the lesser. Let us illustrate this by an example: According to the ordinary doctrine of Philosophers in the Schooles, we collect by many par­ticular experiences, that the nature of fire proceeding from the forme of it, is to as­cend; and of them we frame a generall doc­trine, that fire is the lightest of all the ele­ments, and that his naturall place is above them all: yet we see that when the forme of fire is introduced into grosse and ter­restriall matter, it is wrested from his owne naturall inclination, and is forced, insteed of ascending, then to descend; as when wood, iron, earth, coale, and such other terrestriall matter is set on fire: And it is more or lesse violented from his naturall place, according as the subject it [Page 101]resideth in, hath more or lesse power over it, and is more or lesse materiall: for it sheweth more of his levity and naturall propension to ascend, when it setteth an oyly, or ayery substance on fire, and break­eth up in flames, then when meeting with a more materiall & terrestriall substance, as wood, it turneth it into a coale. Now to apply this to our purpose, I say, that of all formes whatsoever that are joyned to matter, the noblest and most elevated a­bove the faeculency of matter, is the soule of man: for it is not onely the forme of the noblest materiall creature that is; but besides that, it is so full of efficacy as it evē overfloweth the capacity of matter, which not being able to imbibe (as I may say) and take it up all, it hath a particular sub­sistence belonging to its selfe; from whence Philosophers prove the immor­tality of it. Therefore we may safely con­clude that mankind, in the originall ap­petences and naturall desires of his soule, is lesse subject to contingency, and more secure from having his nature corrupted and perverted from his due course, then any other materiall creature whatsoever is in the performance of those actions that proceed from the activity of his [Page 102]forme; and so consequently, being con­sidered in generall, proceedeth most cer­tainly and infallibly to the pursuance thereof; and it is impossible it should fall off from its owne nature, and suffer that to be extinguished in it; although in some particulars, by the immersion in matter, and the terrene habitation it dwelleth in, some soule may be drawne, or rather wrested to a contrary byas unto that which originally nature implanted in it. Now the primary originall naturall ap­petence of mans soule, is the love of truth; which it vehemently desireth, and is al­wayes unquiet and ardent in the search of it upon what occasion soever, and is never appeased and at ease, untill she have found it out; which she no sooner hath done, but the violence she was in is calmed; she is contented, and she setleth her selfe to repose, as having arrived to her center and naturall place of rest; wherein she continueth enjoying the purchase she hath made, untill some new occasion of disquisition stir her up againe; in which she useth the same industry and eagernesse as before. And thus we plainly see that the acquisition of truth is that which the soule in every action naturlaly aymeth [Page 103]at, as fire doth to ascend; & detesteth false­hood, as flames suffer violence to be rever­berated downewards. Therefore, although any particular man may have his senses or fantasie so depraved as to take imper­fect and maymed impressions of outward objects; or the powers of his understand­ing so weake as to make preposterous and disorderly collections out of them; or his judgement so misguided by preoccu­pation of any affection or particular end, as he may in himselfe be deceived, and feed his soule with falsehood insteede of truth; or else, that finister respects and interests, or sordide apprehensions of commodity to himselfe, meeting with a soule so disposed and wrought upon by the sensuall passions tyrannising over it, as to cause him to swallow those bayter, may make him employ the faculties of his understanding and the powers of his soule, contrary unto their naturall incli­nation, to the maintaining of a lye, and industriously to deceive others: yet it is impossible that all mankind, or such a multitude of men as containe in them all the variety of dispositions and affecti­ons incident to the nature of man, and that are dispersed throughout the world, [Page 104]so as they can have no communion to­gether whereby they might infect one a­nother, nor can have finister ends common alike to them all, which should invite them to conspire together to forge a falsehood: it is impossible (I say) that such a company of men should so degenerate from their owne nature (which is to love truth) as they should of themselves invent a lye (and that in so important a matter as faith is) and concurre to deceive the world of men that should come after them in things of such nature, as their deceipt must of necessity damne for all eternity both themselves and all them that shall receive that lye from them, and take it upon their credit: without which unani­mous conspiracy of one whole age of men throughout all the world, we proved in our last conclusion that no false propositi­on could be admitted into the Church as an article of faith. In a word, this gene­rall defection of all mankind from truth, is more impossible, then that all one entire element, or any primigeniall nature should absolutely perish or loose its original pro­priety; as for all the fire in the world to be corrupted and forsake his heat & levity, & so consequently to have no more fire in [Page 105]nature: all which followeth of what is said above. And thus I conceive I have made good the assertion that hath begot­ten all this discourse upon the thirteenth head; which is, that faith conserved in the Catholick Church, and delivered by per­petuall succession and generall tradition, is more certaine and more infallible then any naturall science whatsoever: for natu­rall sciences being grounded upon the in­defectibility of the natures of those things from whence those sciences are collected; and faith depending upon the indefecti­bility of human nature, which is infinite­ly more noble then they, and whose forme is elevated beyond the reach of matter (whereas theirs is comprehended and shutt up within the wombe of matter, and which is indeed the end and period of all their natures, and of all the whole materiall world) it followeth of conse­quence that faith must be lesse subject to contingency, and lesse liable to error then naturall sciences are. And they being universall, infallible and certaine; faith must be so too; and more, if more may be.

But this is not enough, our disquisition must not rest here: We must not content [Page 106]our selves in this divine affaire and su­pernaturall doctrine with a certitude de­pending only upon naturall causes. The wisdome of God proportioneth out con­gruent meanes to bring on every thing to their proper end; and according to the nobility of the effect that he will have produced, he ordaineth equivalent noble causes. Therefore, mans obtaining beati­tude being the highest end that any crea­ture can arrive unto, and altogether super­naturall, it requireth supernaturall causes to bring us to that end, and a supernatu­rall infallibility to secure us in that jour­ney. We must not onely have a supernatu­rall way to travell in (which is faith) but also a supernaturall assurance of the right way, unto the discovery of which, all that we have already said, doth necessarily conduce; for Gods providence that dis­poseth all things sweetly, will not in any generall affaire introduce into the mate­rial world any supernaturall effect, untill the naturall causes be first disposed fit­tingly to cooperate on their partes; and then he never faileth of his. As for exam­ple, when a naturall creature is to be produced into being, the father and the mother must both concurre in contribut­ing [Page 107]all that is in their power, to the gene­ration of a child; and yet we are sure the soule to be produced hath no dependence of them; yet notwithstanding, without their precedentaction no new soule would be: but when the matter is fittingly dis­posed in the mothers wombe, he never misseth creating of a soule in that body; which is not so able an effect, and as much requiring the omnipotency of God, as the creating of nothing all the materiall world; and yet we may say that the matter when it is arrived to its last disposition for the reception of such a forme, may in a manner claime that miraculous action depending of his omnipotency; since for mankind he created the rest of the materi­all world, and therefore there ought to be as certaine and necessary causes for the productiō of man, as there are for the pro­duction of other materiall things, which we see doe seldome misse in any when the matter is fitly disposed for the reception of their severall formes. And so in like manner we may rationally conclude, that in this high and supernaturall businesse of delivering over from hand to hand a su­pernaturall doctrine to bring mankind to the end it was created for, he will first [Page 108]have all the naturall causes fittingly dis­posed for the secure and infallible per­formance of that worke: and then, that he will adde and infuse into them some su­pernatural gift whereby to give them yet further a supernaturall assurance and in­fallibility; which they may with an hum­ble confidence in his unlimited goodness, expect and claim at his divine hand, when they are reduced to that state as is conve­nient for the reception of such a superna­turall gift.

14. Our fourteenth conclusion therefore shall be, that God hath given to his Church thus composed, the holy Ghost, to confirm it in the true faith, and to preserve it from error, and to Illuminate the understanding of it in right discerning the true sense of those Mysteries of faith that are cōmitted to the custody of it, and to worke superna­turall effects of devotion and sanctifie in that Church. And this I prove thus; Con­sidering that the doctrine of Christ is pra­ctical, and aymeth at the working of an effect, which is the reduction of mankind to beatitude: and that mankinde compre­hendeth not onely those that lived in that age, when he preached, but also all others that ever were since, or shall be till the [Page 109]end of the world: It is apparent that to ac­complish that end, it was necessary Christ should so effectually imprint his doctrine in their hearts whom he delivered it unto, as it might upon all occasions and at all times infallibly expresse it selfe in action, and in the delivery of it over from hand to hand, should in vertue and strength of the first operation, produce ever after like effects in all others. Now to have this compleatly performed, it was to bee done both by exteriour and by interiour means, proportionable to the senses without, and to the soule within. The outward means were the miracles that hee wrought, of which himselfe saith, If I had not wrought those workes that no man else ever did, they were not guilty of sinne, but now, they have no excuse: (or to this purpose) and he pro­mised the Apostles they should do greater then those. And that miracles are the pro­per instruments to plant a new doctrine and faith withall, the Apostle witnesseth, when he saith that miracles are wrought for the unfaithfull, not for the faithful, and God himselfe told Moses that hee would once do some prodigy in his favour, that the people might for ever after beleive what he said to them. But it is manifest [Page 110]by the fall of the Apostles themselves, that onely this exteriour means of miracles is not sufficient to engraft supernatural faith deep enough in mens hearts, when as they upon Christs Passion, not onely for fear, through human frailty denied their master, but had even the very conceit and belief of his doctrine exiled out of their hearts and understanding, notwithstanding all the miracles they had seen him work in al­most four years time they continually con­versed with him: which appeareth plain­ly by the discourse of the Disciples going to Emaus, when they said we hoped &c. and expressed their sadnesse for the con­trary successe to their expectation; and by saint Thomas his saying that he would not believe his resurrection unless he saw him, and put his fingers into his wounds &c. And by the rest of the Apostles that were so long before they would believe his re­surrection, as having given over the thought of his divinity, and after his death considered him but as a pure man like o­ther men. Therefore it was necessary that some inward light should bee given them, so clear, and so strong, and so pow­erfull, as the senses should not be able to prevail against it, but that it should over­flowingly [Page 111]possesse and fill all their under­standings and their souls, and make them break out in exteriour actions correspon­dent to the spirit that steered them with­in. And the reason is evident: for while: on the one side the senses discerne, appa­rantly, miracles wrought in confirmation of a doctrine; and on the other side, the same senses doe stifly contradict the very possibility of the doctrine which those mi­racles testify; the soul within, having no assistance beyond the natural powers shee hath belonging originally unto her, is in great debate and anxiety which way to give her assent; and though reason doe prevail to give it to the party of the pre­sent miracles, yet it is with great timidity. But if it happen that the course of those miracles be stopped; then the particular seeming impossibilities of the proposed faith remaining alwaies alike lively in their apprehension, and the miracles wrought to confirme it residing but in the memory, and the representations of them wearing out daily more and more, and the present senses and fantasy grow­ing proportionably stronger and stronger, and withall objecting continually new doubts about the reality of those miracles, [Page 112]it cannot be expected otherwise, but that the assent of the soul should range it selfe on the side of the impossibilities appearing to the present senses, and renounce the doctrine formerly confirmed by miracles, unlesse some inward and supernaturall light be given her to disperse all the mists that the senses raise against the truth of the doctrine. Now the infusion of this light and fervour, we call the giving of the holy Ghost, which Christ himselfe foreknowing how necessary it was, pro­mised them, assuring them that he would procure his father to send them the holy Ghost, the spirit of truth, that should for ever remain among them, and within them, and suggest unto their memory and instruct them in the right understanding of the faith he had preached unto them. And this was prophesied long before, of the state of the law of grace by Hieremy, whose authority S. Paul bringeth to prove that the law of the Gospel was to be writ­ten by the holy Ghost in mens hearts and in their mindes, and accordingly, he cal­leth the faithful of the Corinthians, The faith of Christ, not written with inke, but with the spirit of God; nor graven in stony tables, but in the fleshy ones of their hearts. [Page 113]And in performance of this prophesy & of Christs promise, the history telleth us that on the tenth day after the ascension of Christ, when all his disciples (who were then all his Church, and were to preach and deliver it to all the world) were as­sembled together, the holy Ghost was gi­ven them, and that in so full a measure, as they not onely were confirmed so perfect­ly in their faith as they never after admit­ted the least vacillation therein, but they immediately, casting away all other de­sires and thoughts, were inflamed with admirable love of God, and broke out into his prayses, and into a vehement ardor of teaching and converting others; and when by reason of that zeal of theirs, any thing happened to them contrary to flesh and blood, & humane nature (as persecutions, ignominies, corporall punishments, and even death it selfe) they not only shunned it, as before, but greedily rann to meet and imbrace it, and joyed, and gloryed in it: all which were effects of the holy Ghost residing in them, and filling their minds, and governing their soules. Where upon by the way we may note, that in what Church soever we find not a state of life for sanctitie and neer union with God, [Page 114]and contempt of worldly and transitory things, raised above the pitch of nature and morality, we may conclude the holy Ghost inhabiteth not there: for every agent produceth effects proportionable to the dignity of it, and the excellency of a­ny cause shineth eminently in the noble­nesse of its effects. Now that this gift of the holy Ghost is to remaine with the Church as long as the Church remaineth, to illuminate it with the spirit of truth, and to give it a supernaturall and divine unction, will appear manifestly upon con­sideration of the cause why the holy Ghost was to be given at the first, which remain­eth alwaies the same, and therefore the same effect must alwaies follow; and ac­cordingly, Christ promised his Church upon his ascending into heaven, that he would alwaies remaine with them untill the end of the world, to wit, by this holy spirit; for he was then at the point of withdrawing his corporeall presence from them.

15. Our next conclusion shall be, that this Church or congregation of men spread over the world, conserving and de­livering the faith of Christ from hand to hand, is even in its owne nature perpetu­all [Page 115]in time, and cannot faile as long as mankind remaineth in the world. This needeth no further proofe then that which we have already made; which is derived from the necessity of supernaturall faith to bring mankind to the end it was creat­ed for, and that there is no meanes to de­liver this faith to mankind in the ages af­ter Christ, but by the tradition of the Church; and therefore as long as man­kind lasteth, this meanes must be continu­ed. Yet in this way of reasoning that I use, we are to examine our conclusions as well by the genuine and orderly causes that beget them, and by their owne par­ticular principles, as to assent unto them for the necessity that we see in them in re­gard of the end that they are referred un­to: And when we haue retrived those, and evidently discerned their force, it giveth an admirable content and satisfaction to the understanding. Thus then: as philoso­phers conclude that it is impossible any whole species or kind of beasts should ever be utterly exterminated and destroyed, that is diffused up and downe over the whole face of the earth, because the am­plitude of the universe is greater then the variety of causes can be from which such [Page 116]a generall and entire corruption must proceed: In like manner we may confi­dently conclude, that it is impossible any depraved affections should so universally prevaile, and so absolutely raigne in mens mindes throughout the whole world, as would be requisite to extirpate and roote out a doctrine universally spread over it all, that was at the first taught and con­firmed with such seales of truth as the miracles that Christ and the apostles wrought, that in its selfe is so pure and a­greeable to the seedes that every man find­eth sowed, even by nature, in his owne soule; that worketh such admirable effects as the reformation of manners in man­kind; that withdraweth mens affections from humane and worldly contentments, and carrieth them with a sweet violence to intellectuall objects, and to hopes of immortality and happinesse in another life; that prescribeth lawes for happy liv­ing, even in this world, to all men of what condition soever, either publicke or private, as working a moderation in mens affections to the commodities and goods of this life, which else in nature is apt to blind mens mindes, and is the cause of all mischiefs and evills; and lastly, that is de­livered [Page 117]over from hand to hand, from worlds of fathers to worlds of sonnes, with such care and exactnesse as greater cannot be imagined, and as it is requisite to the importance of that affaire; which is infi­nitely beyond all others, as on which the salvation and damnation of mankind wholly dependeth. Now, unto these ratio­nall considerations let us adde the pro­mise which Christ made to his Church, that the gates of hell should not prevaile against it; and I thinke we have sufficiently maintained that the Church of Christ in which the true doctrine of Christ is con­served, can never faile, but must infallibly continue unto the worlds end. Thus hav­ing proved, that a supernatural doctrine is necessary to bring mankind to beatitude, that Christ taught this doctrine, that from him the Church received it, and is the sacrary in which it is conserved; that this Church cannot erre in the tradition of this doctrine, that besides the infallibi­lity of it, this Church is perpetuall; It re­maineth now that we close up this dis­course by applying all these premises unto the question in hand; which is, where we shall find out this infallible Church, that by it we may gaine the knowledge of the [Page 118]true saith of Christ, whereby we are to be saved.

16. For this end our sixteenth and last conclusion shall be, that the congregation of men spread over the world, joyning in communion with the Church of Rome, is the true Catholike Church, in which is conserved and taught the true saving faith of Christ.

The truth of this conclusion will with­out bringing any new proofes appeare evi­dently by reflecting upon what we have said, and onely examining whether the Romane Church be such a one as we have determined the true Church of Christ must be; or whether the notes which we may inferre out of our discourse to be­long inseparably to the true Church, may not rather with more reason be acknow­ledged of some other then of that in com­munion with the see of Rome? This point after these grounds layed, requireth no very subtill disquisition, but is discerna­ble even by the weakest sights: and there­fore this way of arguing appeareth to me most satisfactory and contentfull, when taking the whole body of the questi­on into survey, and beginning with the first and remotest considerations of it, [Page 119]we drive the difficulties still before us; and pursuing of them orderly, at every steppe we establish a solid principle, and so become secure of the truth and certainty of all we leave behind us; which course, although it may at the first fight appear to be a great way about, and look­ing but superficially upon the matter we may seeme to meete with difficulties which concerne not our question; yet in the effect we shall perceive it is the most summary method of handling any con­troversie; and the onely meanes to be se­cured of the truth of what we conclude, and that will recompence the precedent difficulties by making the conclusion (which is the knot of the affair) plaine, easie, and open. I say then first, that unity of doctrine in matters of faith is inseparable from the Roman Church, and can never be found in any other: it onely, having a precise and determinate rule of faith. For it hath believed in every age, all that hath bin plainly and positively taught unto it by their Fathers as the doctrine of faith derived from Christ; and admitteth no o­ther article whatsoever as an article of faith. Whereas on the other side, all other Christian Churches among us that pre­tend [Page 120]reformation, having no certaine and common rule of faith, but every par­ticular man governing himselfe in this matter by the collections of his owne braine, and by his owne private under­standing and interpretation of Scripture (which onely he acknowledgeth as the entire rule of faith) it must consequently follow, that according to the variety of their tempers and judgements, there must bee a variety and difference of their opini­ons and beliefes; which difference of tem­per happening for the most part betweene every two men that are, it likewise follow­eth scarce any two should in all particulars of their opinions agree together. And ac­cordingly wee see by experience, that scarce any two authors, out of the Roman Church, that have written of matters of faith have agreed in their tenets, but rather have dissented in fundamentall doctrine, and have inveighed against one another in their writings with great vehemence & bittesnes. Whereas on the other side, the Doctors of the Roman Church in al times, in all places, and of all tempers have agreed unanimously in all matters of faith; al­though in the mean time, severall of them, have in divers other points great debates [Page 121]against one another, and pursue them with much sharpnesse: which strongly confirmeth the ground upon which we frame this observation.

But to insist a little further upon this materiall and important consideration; it is evident that the proceeding of the refor­mers openeth the gate to all dissension, schisme, irreverence, pride of understand­ing, heresie, & ruine of Christian Religion: for to justifie the new births of their rebel­lious braines, the first stroake of their pen must be, to lay a taint of ignorance & error upon the whole current of ancient fathers and Doctors of the Church, and generall Councells, and to blast their authority; which is so precisely contrary to their doctrine, whose names and records ought to be sacred with posterity. Which when they have done; to settle a constant and like beliefe in all men, they give no gene­rall and certaine rule; but leaving every man to the dictamens of his owne private judgement, according to the severall tempers and circumstances (as wee said before) that sway every single man in particular, there must result (which we see by experience) as great a variety of [Page 122]opinions as those are different. And lastly since they quarrell at Catholickes beliefe in those points where they differ from them, because they captivate their under­standings with reverence to what the Church proposeth and teacheth, and there­by admit into their beliefe articles which may seeme absurd to common sense; they may as well with presumptuous hands graspe at, and seeke to pluck up the very foundations of Christian Religion; as namely the Doctrine of the Trinity, and of the incarnation of Christ, and of the resurrection and state of life of the future world: since there are greater seeming contradictions in them (especially in the two first) then in those mysteries the re­formers cavill at.

In the next place we may consider, that as infallibility is pretended by the Roman Church alone, so it is apparently entayled upon it: for we have proved that no meanes or circumstance, either morall, naturall or supernaturall, is wanting in it to beget infallibility in matters of faith. Whereas on the other side, from the re­formers owne position we inferre by con­sequence, that their doctrine cannot be hoped (even by themselves) to be infallible, [Page 123]and therefore they that shall submitt their understanding to their conduct, though they believe without controversy all they say, must needs (even by reason of what is taught them) floate alwaies in a great deale of incertitude, and anxious apprehension and feare of error. For they looking upon the Church, but with pure humane con­sideratiōs, and as an ordinary company of men, will have it lyable to mistaking, ac­cording to the naturall imbecillity of mens witts and understandings, and of humane passions, and negligence, and other such defects and weaknesses which every man is by nature subject unto: Against which they produce no antidote to pre­serve and secure themselves from the in­fection & taint they lay upon the Church. For, if they will have the conferences of severall passages of Scripture to be that which must give light in the severall con­troverted obscurities; what eminency have these few late reformers shewne, either in knowledge of tongues, insight into anti­quity, profoundnesse in sciences, and per­fection and sanctity of life, which hath not shined admirably more (not to taxe them here of the contrary) in multitudes of the adverse party? And none will deny [Page 124]but these are the likelyest meanes to gaine a right intelligence of the true and deepe sence of Scriptures. And besides, we may observe that the reason why they deny the severall articles wherein they differ from the Catholicke Church, is because it teach­eth a doctrine which is repugnant to sence, and of hard digestion to philosophy; both which are uncompetent judges of divine and supernaturall truths: And whosoever steereth by their compasse, cannot hope for infallibility in a matter that transcendeth their reach.

Thirdly we may consider that the uni­versality of the Church in regard of place (which is necessary, to the end that all mankind may have sufficient meanes to gaine knowledge of the true faith) can be attributed to none but to the Roman Catholick Church; which onely is diffused throughout the whold world; whereas all others are circled in with narrow limits of particular provinces; And even within them, the professors scarce agree among themselves in any point of doctrine, but in opposing the Roman Church.

And yet further; besides this want of vniversality in regard of place; the Re­ligion taught by the reformers, hath yet a [Page 125]greater restriction then that: for even in its own nature, it is not for all sorts of per­sons and for all capacities: whereas the true saving faith to bring men to beati­tude ought to be obvious to all mankind, and open as well to the simple as to the learned. For since they lay the Scriptures as the first and highest principle, from whence they deduce all to that ought to be believed; And that in all arts and scien­ces the primary and fundamentall princi­ples therof ought to bee throughly known by them that aspire to the perfect know­ledge of those sciences; it followeth that one must have an exact knowledge of the learned tongues to examine punctually the true sense of the Scriptures; and that one must bee perfectly versed in logick to bee able to reason solidly, and to deduce true consequences from certaine principles (for want of which, we find by experience that great controversies arise daily among the learnedst men; which would not bee, if the force of consequences were of their owne nature easily discernable) and one must be throughly skilled in naturall phi­losophy and Metaphysickes, since unto ap­pearing contradictions in subjects of those sciences, they reduce most of their argu­ments [Page 126]against the supernaturall truths that Catholickes believe. And lastly, one must be indowed with an excellent judgement and strong naturall witt, to be able to wield and make good use of these wea­pons; without which they would but advance him the faster to ruine and per­nicious error. With which excellencyes, how few are there in the world fairely a­dorned?

Fourthly, it is evident that the Roman Catholicke Church onely hath had a con­stant and uninterrupted succession of Pas­tors and Doctors, and tradition of doc­trine from age to age, which we have esta­blished as the onely meanes to derive downe the true faith from Christ. Where­as it is apparent all others have had late beginnings from unworthy causes: And yet, even in this little while, have not beene able to mantaine themselves for one age throughout (or scarce for any conside­rable part of an age) in one tenor of doc­trine, or forme of Ecclesiasticall govern­ment. Lastly we may consider how the ef­fect of the holy Ghost his inhabiting in the Church, in regard of manners, mak­ing the hearts of men his living temples, shineth eminently in the Catholick [Page 127]Church, and is not so much as to be sus­pected in any other whatsoever. For where this holy spirit raigneth, it giveth a burning love of God (as we have touched before) and a vehement desire of approach­ing unto him as near as may be. Now, the soule of man moveth towards God, not by corporeall stepps and progressions, but by intellectuall actions; the highest of which, are mentall prayer and contemplation; in which exercises, a man shall advance the more, by how much he is the more sequestred from the thought and care of any worldly affaires, and hath his passions quieted within him, and is abstracted from communication with materiall ob­jects, and is untyed from human interests, and (according to the counsailes of Christ in the Gospell) hath cast off all sollicitude of the future, and remitteth himselfe whol­ly to the providence of God, living in the world as though he were not in it, wholly intent to contemplation, when the infe­riour part of Charity calleth him not downe to comply with the necessity of his Neighbours. This forme of life we see continually practised in the Catholick Church by multitudes of persons of both sexes, that through extreame desire of approaching [Page 128]as neare unto God as this life will permitt, doe banish themselves from all their friends, kindred, and what else in the world was naturally dearest unto them; and either retire into extreame solitudes, or shut them­selves up for ever within the narrow limits of a straight Monastery and little cell; where having renounced all the interest and propriety in the goods of this world, and using no more of them then is necessary for the sustenance of their exhausted bodyes (which they mortifie with great abstinences, watchings and other austerities, that they may bring them into subjection; and roote out, as much as may be, the very fewell of concupiscence and passions) and having of their owne accord barred them­selves of all propriety of disposing of them­selves in any action, and renounced even the freedome of their will; and thus in summe, having taken an eternall farewell of all the joyes and delights that this world can afford, and that carnall men would bee so loth to forgoe for any little while; yet by the in­ternall joyes that they find in their prayer and contemplation (unto which all these actions of retrenchment from superfluities, or outward solaces, doe serve as a ladder to ascend unto the top of it) they live so happily, and chere­fully, and with such tranquillity of mind, and [Page 129]upon occasions say so much of the overflow­ings of their blysse, as it is aparent they enjoy there the hundred fold that Christ promised in this life. Nor can it be objected that men usually betake themselves to this course of Re­ligious life, upon being distempered by me­lancholy, or for the ill successe and traverses they have had in affaires of the world, or out of simplicity and weaknesse of understanding; since it is evident that this angelicall forme of living hath ever heene practised by persons of the best composed and cheerfullest dispositions; and by multitudes of such is and hath beene imbraced; and that in the world overflowed with all the blessings it could afford them; and were of strongest parts of understanding and▪ judgement; and were most eminent in learning So that it is apparent they had no other mo­tive thereunto, but purely the love of God and fervour of devotion: which being an effect of the holy Ghost residing in their hearts; to his inspirations and admirable wayes of working in those his temples of flesh and blood, these extraordinary effects are to be imputed. Whereas on the other side no such examples, or supernaturall forme of life, are to be mett withall in any other Church whatsoever: Rather they disclaime from them; and like men of this world (which is the expression [Page 130]that Christ useth in the Gospell to designe those that are not of his Church) not being a­ble to discerne things of the spirit, but being blinded with the lustre of them, too great for their weake eyes, they neglect and disdaine them, and imagine that all Christian perfecti­on consisteth in an ordinary humane morall life: which is the uttermost period that any among them seek to attaine unto. And there­fore we may hence conclude that they have no interior worker among them, more sublime then their owne humane discourses and judge­ments; and that supernaturall sanctity (an ef­fect of the holy Ghost) is confined onely to the Catholick Church.

Besides, wee may observe by daily expe­rience, how those persons that addict themselves to such an extraordinary way of life, doe absolutely prove the very best, or the worst of mankind; the one excel­ling in admirable piety, fervour of devo­tion, abstraction and sanctity of life, and some of them soaring up to a pitch even above na­ture; the other abounding in all sorts of im­piety, wickednesse and dissolution of manners, till at length their hearts become even harden­ed against correction, and all sence of spiritu­all things; whereas it ordinarily happeneth that the most flagitious men among those [Page 131]who live in a vulgar worldly estate of life, doe upon occasions frequently receive notable im­pressions from divine objects, to the amend­ment and change of their dissolute course. And this being a constant & certaine effect noted at all times and in all places, it must be attribu­ted to a constant and powerfull cause: which can be no other then the neere approaching of those persons to the originall fountaine of sanctity & goodnesse; which being like a con­suming fire, worketh vehement effects in them, according to the disposition they are in, and to the nearenesse that they have unto that fire: so that as the sunbeames (which are the authors of life and foecundity to all plants and vegetables) shining upon a tree that hath ta­ken solide rootes in the earth, maketh it budd, flourish, and beare fruit, and on the other side, if it be weakely rooted, their heate and ope­ration upon that tree maketh it the sooner to wither and die: And as the fire sendeth an in­fluence of heate into a pot of water that is symply applyed unto it, but if that pot be set in a vessell of Snow or Ice, and so be held over the fire, it driveth into the center the cold of the Snow formerly diffused without, and in a very short space turneth that water into Ice, which else might have stayed there long e­nough without congealing: in like manner, they who being rooted in Charity, approach [Page 132]to that divine Sunne, doe flourish and bring forth excellent, and oftentimes supernaturall fruites of devotion, fervour, and sanctitie; but those who have depraved affections so invi­roning the roots of their hearts, as that the soyle of Charity cannot introduce her nou­rishing sappe into them; and whose soules are compassed in with the Ice of sensuality and carnall cogitations; if they come within the beames of this holy Sunne, or within the heate of this sanctifying fire, they doe but wither a­way the sooner, and their hearts grow day­ly more and more to be Ice, till at length (like that of Pharaoh, amidst the wondrous workes of the lord, happy to others) they become mise­erable and stony.

And againe we see, that those who having addicted themselves wholly to such a course of seraphicall life, and that being alwaies vehe­mently intent to the love and contemplation of the prime verity, and that having no other object for their actions or thoughts; doe thereby (as we may reasonably conceive) ap­proach nearest to God allmighty, and draw immediately from him (who is the fountaine of light and truth) strongest emanations and cleerest influences to illustrate their under­standing, and inflame their affections: those persons (I say) have ever beene most earnest in [Page 133]the maintenance of those points of the Roman doctrine which are most repugnant to sense; as in particular, of that of the reall presence of Christs body in the blessed Sacrament; unto which all other sacraments, and acts of faith and devotion, are reduced) and adore them with greatest reverence, and are inflamed with ferventest devotion unto them. And therefore we may conclude that this confidence, reli­giousnesse, and fervour, proceedeth from hence, that these men, and such among them as cannot be suspected for simplicity, ignorance, or sinister ends, are thus confirmed in this faith, and are thus set on fire with this devo­tion more vigorously and vehemently then ordinary secular men; by the immediate working and inspiration of the holy Ghost; from whose streames it is likely they drinke purer and clearer waters, and nearer the well head, then other men of a more worldly and vulgar conversation. And it were not agreeable to the goodnesse of God to permitt those per­sons that most affectionatly seeke him, and who for his sake out of pure devotion and desire of contemplating truth, doe abridge themselves of all other worldly contentments, to have their understanding worse blinded with false doctrine then other men that seeke him more coldly and care lesse for him; and [Page 134]to have their wills more depraved then theirs with erroneous and false devotion, as of neces­sity it would follow theirs were, if the doc­trine that the Catholicke Church professeth were not true, and the holy Ghost resided not in it to worke those effects. Now on the contrary part, let us make a short inquiry whether it be probable that the late pretended reformers have beene illuminated by God in an extraordinary manner, to discover truth: which they say hath for many ages lyen hidd. Surely if any such thing were, they would have expressed in their manner of life by some extraordinary sanctity and excellent ac­tions, and supernaturall wisdome, that extra­ordinary communication which they would perswade us they had with the divinity. For as by a radiant beame of light shining in at the chinke of a window, we know assured­ly, the Sunne beateth upon it, although we see not his body; so likewise there should have broken out from them some admirable and excellent effect whereby we might rest confi­dent that the divine Sunn illuminated their understanding, & inflamed their Wil. Moyses, when he came downe from the mountaine where he so long conversed with God, ex­pressed even by the luster glittering from his face that it was not an ordinary or naturall [Page 135]light which had shined unto him: the Apostles when they were replenished with the holy Ghost, received immediately the gift of tongues, and a cleere intelligence of all the Scriptures; whereby they made cleere unto the auditors the obscurest passages of them; and continually wrought miracles. And all those that ever since them have introduced the Gos­pell into any Countrey, where formerly it was not received, have still had their commission authorised by the same seales; and shall our late particular Reformers be credited in their pretended vocation, and in their new doctrine that shaketh the very foundations of the faith that hath beene by the whole Christian world for so many ages believed and delivered over from hand to hand, when as nothing appear­eth in them supernaturall, and proceeding from a divine cause?

This, Madame, is as much as I shall trouble your Ladyship withall upon this occasion: which indeede is much more then at the first I intended, or could have suspected my pen would have stolne from me. The substance of all which may be summed up, and reduced to this following short question; namely, whether in the election of the faith whereby you hope to be saved, you will be guided by the unani­mous consent of the wisest, the learned'st and [Page 136]the piousest men of the whole world, that have beene instructed in what they believe by men of the like quality living in the age before them, and so from age to age, untill the Apo­stles and Christ; and that in this manner have derived from the fountaine, both a perfect and full knowledge of all that ought to be believed; and likewise a right understanding and in­terpretation of the Scriptures, as farr as con­cerneth faith; (the true sence of which, so farr is also delivered over by the same tradition.) Or whether you will assent unto the new and wrested interpretations of places of Scripture, made by late men, that rely meerely upon their single judgement and witt (too slight a barke to sayle in through so immense an Ocean) and whose chiefe leaders for human respects and sinister ends (not to say worse of them) made a desperate defection from the other maine bo­dy; since which time no two of them have agreed in doctrine; and among whom it is impossible your Ladyships great judgement and strong understanding should find any solid stay to rely securely upon, and to quiet all those rationall doubts that your perceiving witt suggesteth unto you. And here Madame, I shall make an end; having sincerely, and as succinctly and plainely as I can, delivered you the chiefe considerations that in this affaire [Page 137]turned the scale of the ballance with me; which in good faith I have done with all the simplicity and ingenuity that I can expresse my sense with; being not at all warmed with any passion or partiality, nor raised out of my even pitch and temper with any spirit of disputation, or siding humor; (which few have avoided upon this subject) but I have given you a true picture of my seriousest and saddest thoughts & resolutions to my selfe in this most important businesse; wherein you will believe I would take the greatest pains I was able, to be sure not to be deceived. I have not sought to shew wittinesse or acutenesse of learning in the debating of these points; or have affected polished language in the com­mitting them to paper; for this matter should not be handled for ostentation, but for use: and though peradventure if this discourse should fall into the view of some learned man, he may at the first sight set but a slight valew upon it; yet I perswade my selfe whosoever he be, if he will ponder it seriously & leasurely, and with alike interiour recollection, as I at the first setl­ed the groundes of it in my owne soule, he will then find it toucheth the life of the mat­ter: and though I have not delivered my con­ceptions smoothly and well, yet he will not thinke his time lost in reading them; and hav­ing [Page 138]stronger parts then I, hee will make cleer­er use of them then I have done. This I am sure of; that although I have set this downe for your Ladyship, in two or three dayes (for it is not longer since you commanded me to doe it) yet it is the production and result of many howers meditations by my selfe; or ra­ther of some yeeres: and how dry soever they may appeare to your Ladyship at the first; yet I dare promise you that upon your second and third readings, and reflections upon them, they will gaine more credit with you; and you will (I know) by such application of your thoughts upon them, enlarge and refine what dependeth of the maine heads, farr beyond any thing I have said. For such is the nature of notions that are wrought, like the silke wormes ball, of ones owne substance; they al­ford fine and strong threads for a good work­man to weave into a faire peece of stuffe: whereas they, that like bees doe gather hony from severall authors, or that like Ants, doe make up their store by what they picke up in the originall crude substance from others labours, may peradventure in their workes seeme more pleasant at the first tast, or appeare to have a fairer heape at the first view; but the others web is more usefull, more substantiall, and more durable.

I beseech God of his grace and goodnesse, in this life to enlighten your Ladyships un­derstanding, that you may discerne truth, and to dispose your will that you may imbrace it; and in the next, to give you part among those glorious Apostles, Fathers, Doctors, and Martyrs, that deriving the same truth from him, have from hand to hand delivered it over to our times.

The Table.

  • CHAP. 1. Of the utmost and highest perfection that it is possible for a man to arrive unto in this life. pag. 1.
  • CHAP. 2. How one may cleave, and intend wholy to Christ, despising all other things. p. 3.
  • CHAP. 3. In what the perfect conformity of man with God consisteth in this life. P. 6.
  • CHAP. 4. How our operations ought to be in the intellectu­all part of our soule onely, and not in our senses. P. 8.
  • CHAP. 5. Of the purity of heart, which above all things is to be aymed at▪ P. 14.
  • CHAP. 6. That true devotion consisteth in adhering to God by the understanding, and will, depured from all commerce with materiall objects. P. 20.
  • CHAP. 7. In what manner ones heart is to be recollected within ones selfe. P. 24.
  • [Page]CHAP. 8. How, in all chances, a spirituall man ought to resigne himselfe to God. P. 29.
  • CHAP. 9. That the contemplation of God is to be preferred before all other exercises. P. 32.
  • CHAP. 10. That actuall and sensible devotion is not so much to be regarded, as to adhere to God with ones will. P. 38.
  • CHAP. 11. In what manner we are to resist temptations, and to beare tribulations. P. 42.
  • CHAP. 12. Of the love of God, and of the great power it hath. P. 44.
  • CHAP. 13. Of the quality (and utility of prayer: and how ones heart is to be recollected within ones selfe. P. 49.
  • CHAP. 14. That in all judgements, we ought to resort to the witnesse of our consciences. P. 52.
  • CHAP. 15. How the contempt of ones selfe may be caused in a man, and how profitable that is. p. 56.
  • CHAP. XVI. How the Providence of God extendeth it selfe to all things. P. 6 [...]
FINIS.

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