A treatise containing the originall of vnbeliefe, misbeliefe, or misperswasions concerning the veritie, vnitie, and attributes of the Deitie with directions for rectifying our beliefe or knowledge in the fore-mentioned points. By Thomas Iackson Dr. in Divinitie, vicar of Saint Nicholas Church in the famous towne of New-castle vpon Tine, and late fellow of Corpus Christi Colledge in Oxford.

SECTION VI. (Book 6)

Of qualifications requisite for conceiving aright of the divine Nature and his Attributes.

CHAPTER. XLIX.

The generall qualification or first ground for preventing misconceits of the Divine Nature or Attributes, is pu∣rification of heart.

1. THe Heathens grossely ei∣ther multiply or mis-fi∣gure the divine Nature; we varnish their vnsight∣ly pictures, or conjoyne their distracted represen∣tations: both mispro∣portion or deface him in his Attributes. Now as it is the corruption of nature, wherein we commu∣nicate too deepely with the Heathen, which maketh vs partakers of their sins: so shall we proue our selues more vnexcusable by much, then they were, vnlesse their example excite in vs religious care and alacritie to vse those meanes, which many of them by light of nature, (questionlesse without the internall light of grace) saw to be necessary for attaining the true

knowledge of the Deitie. To the better sort of them it was a cleare truth and a received Maxime;

That as the Sunne cannot be seene without its owne light, so God could not be knowne without his illuminations:

That by these illuminations profered to all the most part were not in any degree inlightned for want of internal pre∣paration. The preparation or disposition by them re∣quired, was purification of the soule. Of excellent passages to this purpose Trismegist, Plato with his fol∣lowers, Plotine specially, and amongst the Romanes, Seneca, are very fertile. Their consonancies to Chri∣stian truth are gathered by many, briefly by Pansa, and some other late Writers, whom I commend vnto the Reader for no other end, but that he may be com∣mended or directed by them to these authors them∣selues, worthy to be lookt into by the most eagle-sigh∣ted Divines of our times. Admit they cannot com∣municate to vs the light of saving truth, with whose comfortable rayes their soules were never refreshed, nor their mindes enlightened: yet should I take him either for more then a man, even a coelestiall Saint on earth, or for a lazy droane, that will not condemne himselfe for slouth or dullnesse in apprehension of God or his goodnesse; so he will but vnpartially compare his owne conceites or affections with these mens, allowing the oddes as well of the more excel∣lent meanes which he hath to finde, as of the encou∣ragements incomparably more glorious given him to search out the hidden Manna, that secret joy of heart or exultation of spirit, which alwayes resulteth from true contemplation of the first truth, or from the deaw of this fountaine of goodnesse. And if whiles

we seeke a rule or stay to our vnderstandings, lest they slide into error, we desire withall a spurre vnto devoti∣on; the vsuall professors of Schoole divinitie come as farre short of these heathen Theologists, and their Christian expositors in this later service, as they goe beyond them in the former.

2. Plotins frequent interspersion of much divine matter throughout most his Philosophicall discour∣ses, often makes me doubt, whether familiaritie with Origen did not draw him to some acquaintance with Christian mysteries; howsoever he sought to forme them in Philosophicall mouldes, and set forth stollen fragments of the food of life with Platonicall sawce. By what meanes then may the soule in this mans judgement be elevated to contemplate the vnprizeable beautie, which hath her dwellings in the sacred closetts, and gaddes not abroad, lest profane eyes might gloate vpon her? Not to question how well he spake them, or how farre he did assent vnto them; these, and the like spee∣ches of his (very pertinent to our present argument) inferre a divine truth out of Philosophicall princi∣ples.

If the eye be either infected with bad humors, dull or weakned for want of spirits, the brightnesse of the ob∣iects presented, breeds a dimnesse, and disenables it for seeing, what otherwise might easily be seene. The specta∣tor must be made like the spectacle; nor could any eye see the Sunne, were it not by naturall constitution Sunne-like: No more can the minde vnlesse purified, behold the fountaine of puritie: whence he must be divine or deifor∣med, that meanes to see God, or the patterne of beautie.

Plot. lib. 6. Ennead. 1. Whether to his soule moral∣ly or Philosophically purified, thus much was repre∣sented

by the light of nature; or whether admitted to looke into the fountaine of truth or law of libertie, he thus farre approved it while he looked vpon it: the summe of his collections was delivered by him, who alone had seene God, and declared him vnto the world Blessed are the pure in heart; for they shall see God* 1.1. In the perfection of this vision consists the fulnesse of our felicitie in the life to come, of which felicitie not∣withstanding all in this life may in some measure be partakers, by seeing him in his word and in his onely sonne: He that hath seene me hath seene my father. How then sayst thou Philip; Shew vs the father* 1.2? But did all see the sonne, that lookt vpon him? If they did not, how was he the true light, that enlighteneth every man that commeth into the world? In as much as the world was made by him, his light was spread throughout it; He shineth still in darkenesse, though the darknesse com∣prehendeth him not. Ioh. 1. vers. 5. This darkenesse in Plotins language is the adventitious filth or rust, which before purification be wrought, adheres to the hu∣mane soule, and makes it vncapable of any illumina∣tion from the fountaine of light.

CHHPTER L.

What purification of heart may be expected and sought af∣ter, before the liue-image of God be renewed in vs. Of the directions given by Heathen Philosophers for attai∣ning to this purification, or to perfect knowledge by it. Wherein their directions are defectiue.

1. BVt admitting the purified hart hath the promise of blessing, as well in this life, as in the other to come; who shall haue interest in the promise? for who can say; My heart is cleane? As justification; so the purification, whereof we treate, is two-folde;

• 1. From the raigne or dominion of sinne.
• 2. From all reliques or commixture of sinne.

Of the latter purification, in this life none can be, of the former all the faithfull must be partakers. But even faith it selfe, before it can be liuely and sound, must in order of nature (perhaps, of time) be sincere and true: and vnto the meere truth of it, the right know∣ledge or apprehension of the object is alwayes prece∣dent. Whence it becomes questionable, what degree or manner of purification is requisite to the right knowledge of God or his attributes: these, in the me∣thod proposed to vs by the authors of this Creede, being the first articles or objects of our beliefe.

2. May we in this case, as in the like before, admit of a two-folde cleansing or purification; one morall, or right onely in its kinde, but farre short of accepta∣tion

in it selfe, onely acceptable, as it is destinated to a second which is spirituall, and pleasing to God through Iesus Christ, as being the symbole or partici∣pated forme, whereby Christs righteousnesse becomes actually ours. The truth of this distinction was suppo∣sed by S. Iames, otherwise he had set those soules, which he sought to cleanse, in a perpetuall backwater. Vnto men as then not justified nor spiritually purifi∣ed; vnto all, (notorious sinners not excepted) for to them by especiall title was that exhortation directed; Draw neare to God, and he will draw neare to you. Iam. 4.8. Suppose the parties, to whom he spake, should haue replyed thus; Vnlesse God draw neare to vs by his sancti∣fying grace, how should we draw nearer to him then we are? Had their reply beene pertinent, and iust? If iust, his exhortations following had beene altogether fruit∣lesse and impertinent; Cleanse your hands ye sinners, and purge your hearts ye wauering minded. Iam. 4 vers. 8. No moderne Catechist knowes better then he did; That God alone must spiritually cleanse and purifie, because he alone creates that grace in their hearts, whereby this their sanctification is wrought. Yet that they might be finally so cleansed, and purged by his meere grace, they were first morally to be cleansed, by abstinence from vnrighteous actions, by denying of indulgence to internall lusts. This wavering of minde, though it spring from impuritie of heart or corrupt affection; (as one obserues) is no ill signe in youth, but rather the working of the soule, seeking to purge it selfe from corruption; although a wavering and floating imagination is for the present most vn∣capable of the impression of Gods image.

3. As corruption of nature doth sway vs both to conceiue, and bring forth evill of every kinde: so our acquired prouenesse to practise it, being outwardly curb'd, or our naturall propensions by Gods provi∣dence diverted from such objects, as might entice or inlarge them, the light of nature as yet not sanctified will manifest the folly of our former wayes, and oft∣times cause notorious malefactors to water their cheekes with teares, in signe they would (as perhaps for the present in part they doe) wash their conscien∣ces from wonted vncleannesse, if it should please God to grant them opportunitie of testifying their resolu∣tions by reformation of life prolonged. And what they thus protest may be either meerely pretended, or vnfainedly purposed. So may purposes, for the time being vnfained, be either temporary and weake (easie to be defeated) by future opportunities; or firme, and constant, able to resist all ordinary or wonted in∣ticements to commit externall mischiefes. Such they may be, and yet never approach the confines of true spirituall renovation.

4. That hearts thus farre cleansed and mollified are more apt to admit the true stampe or character of any morall truth, and may be more easily and farther poized with any wholesome admonition or reproofe▪ needs no further proofe, than that, which is aboue all proofes, which can be brought to the contrary, com∣mon experience. And although in the heate of passi∣on, or by renitency of contrary impulsions, our ap∣prehensions of truths formerly imprinted or then first represented, be not so cleare, or though our judge∣ments be corrupt and partiall; yet such as haue laid

vp these sacred principles in their hearts, giving them little or no vent, except in practise, will in these cases suspect their iudgement, and appeale from passion to calme and sober meditations. Many pleasant and gratefull fancies, which secretly intrude themselues by night, are often mistrusted by some, even whiles they dreame; though the like dreames in others, which haue lesse occasion to beleeue them, are ex∣empt from all suspition. The cause of difference, as an exquisite * 1.3 Philosopher tells vs, is this. In the one, the passages betwixt the braine, and the heart are in some sort open: in the other so stopt, that the head, which serues as an illiterate messenger or newes-car∣rier to the heart, can haue no direction or resolution thence, but takes every thing for true, that hath any appearance of truths formerly experienced in waking thoughts. This falls out so, as if, whiles grand Coun∣sellors sleepe, Post-boyes should take vpon them to determine of matters of state by vulgar rumors con∣cerning the secrecies inclosed in their Packets. The vigilant thoughts of men attentiue to worldly busi∣nesse or bent to vice, can be no better in sacred mat∣ters, than dreaming fancies in matters secular. No morall knowledge not implanted in a purified heart, but vpon intercourse of passion or new occurrence, either vanisheth or varieth as strangely and quickly, as nocturnall representations. Nor is it possible any sacred knowledge should enter into our hearts, vntill they be in some measure cleansed of their natiue rust or adventitious foulenesse.

5. Not vnconsonant to as much of S. Iames divini∣tie, as hitherto hath beene discussed, is that resolution

of Seneca in the beginning of his naturall or theologi∣call questions (for God and nature were to him as one)

Mustum interest inter, & bonam valetudinem, &c. There is a great difference betweene health and strength: Thou carriest about no counterfeit face, nor framest thy speech vnto anothers minde: Thy heart is not invailed, thou art free from avarice, which depriues it selfe of what it hath purloined from others; from luxurie, which re∣paires the wasted stocke more filthily, then it was wasted. Thou art not subiect to ambition, which seldome brings men vnto dignitie, but by base and indigne practises? Thou art as yet a non-proficient, and rid of all other ill guests, not of thy selfe. The vertue we ayme at, is magni∣ficent: not that it is in it selfe a happy thing to be without vice, but that want of evill doth free the minde, and pre∣pare it for the knowledge of heavenly matters, and quali∣fie it for acquaintance with God.

Plotin likewise (a∣vouching the consent of the auncient) makes every vertue a beame or ray of the former purification, in his opinion requisite for attaining vnion with the prime light or fountaine of beautie. What is tempe∣rance but abstinence from bodily pleasures, as being neither pure in themselues, nor fit for any affecting puritie of life to follow? Wisedome and Prudence e∣rect the minde to things supernall, and keepe it a∣loofe from this inferior and base part of the world, which pollutes it. Wherefore it was truely said; That the goodnesse, and beautie of the humane soule con∣sists in being like to God. But by what meanes in his divinitie must our soules put on his likenesse? By put∣ting off, whiles they ascend to him, the vitious habits, which they put on in their descent to worldly spectacles; as those

that enter into the sanctuaries of the Temples, put off their garments, and approach not the presence of the gods till they be purified. And againe, Our soules must be divorced from all corporall beautie, before we come acquainted with the prime light or fountaine of beautie, of whom all bodily per∣fections are but images, on which who so doates, or esteemes as obiects worthy of his loue, shall be partaker of his folly, that drowned himselfe by assaying to embrace faire shadows in the water. For thus enclaspt with loue of bodily decencie, that he cannot acquit himselfe from it, he must needs suffer a precipitation (not so much of body as of soule) into a pit darke and gastly to the minde of man; blinded both a∣mongst the infernall ghosts, and even whiles they liue here, haunted still with ghosts or shadowes. That is our Country whence we came, and there is our setled place of dwelling. But what is the meanes or manner of our retire?

Wee need neither shippe nor chariot, nor horse, not so much as the vse of our owne feete: all these we must forsake, not vouchsafing once to looke backe vpon them after wee be set on in this iourney. Our bodily lights being shutt wee must provide vs another eye. But what must this inter∣nall eye beholde? Vpon the first opening or wakening, it cannot easily fixe it selfe vpon excessiue brightnesse. What remedie then? The soule must be invred by degrees, first to looke into honest and ingenuous studies; after∣wards to contemplate such actions of famous men, as are fit patternes for others to follow; lastly to take the true characters of these good actors minds.

But they shall by this meanes be enabled to take a true draught of their own forme ?

If thou canst not see thine own latent beau∣tie, propose the statuary for thy imitation, pare of super∣fluities and exorbitances, rectifie obliquities, and giue lu∣stre

to parts obscure or duskie, and never giue over poli∣shing and trimming thy statue, vntil vertue display her radiant beames, vntill thou seest temperance establisht in her immaculate throne. Thou needst no Mercury for thy direction, intend thy sight: for such alone, as now thou art, can truely behold that excellent beautie. Plot. Ennead. 1. lib. 6.

6. Out of this Heathens Philosophie, that Chari∣tie, which should be in Christian Divines, would ex∣tract much matter, well symbolizing with the words of life. Howbeit, lest either young Readers should wrong themselues by doating too much vpon these or like passages, or Divines should depriue him of his due; let vs see a little farther wherin they decline from Christian truth. It was an heavenly doctrine of Plotine and other Heathens;

That gold being severed from drosse or gleibs of earth often intermingled with it, and the soule of man once purified from vice or ex∣ternall impressions, both recover their natiue beau∣tie: that the soule thus recovering her natiue-splen∣dor, becomes a true glasse for right representation of Gods image or his attributes.

But the best of the Heathen wanting this perspectiue glasse, whereby things of heavenly nature must be discovered, could not discerne many internall spottes or blemishes, which no lesse pollute the humane soule, then those running sores, wherewith most others beside them∣selues were in their judgement fouly infected. Besides these mentioned, much of their seed wee cannot deny to be most pretious, as being either borrowed from the Hebrewes, since the law was written, or propaga∣ted from Noah the Preacher of righteousnesse. Yet

even the best, that they did sow, compared with Pauls or Apolloes labours, proved in the growth but like grasse or greene blades vpon the house-toppe, withe∣ring before they be ripe. And thus ill it proved, be∣cause not sowne in contrite hearts, because not rooted in true humilitie, never watered with penitent teares, without whose moysture the seed of Gods word ordi∣narily receiveth no iust increase. If wee may iudge of other Heathens by Plotine, and of Plotine by those in∣stances wherein he sought to be most wise, their purest doctrine was infected with a double error: the one, that it was but a kinde of hand-labour to put of bad habits, or cleanse our soules from such filth, as had be∣fallen them, from contagion of externalls; the other, that perfect splendor, beautie of minde, or fulnesse of felicitie, did immediately result from these morall ab∣stractions or resecations of superfluities. Hence were he and his fellow Philosophers often occasioned to triumph before victory; to boast of libertie, when they had but laide aside some externall badges of sla∣very; to reioyce when they should haue sorrowed. For of that true purification, which is but as the ground or matter of spirituall reformation, penitent teares and secret mournings are parts essentiall: Suffer afflictions, and sorrow ye, and weepe. Let your laughter be turned into mourning, and your ioy into heavinesse. Cast downe your selues before the Lord, and he will lift you vpa 1.4.

7. Howbeit as in comparison of our Apostle I must condemne them: so for other contemplations and good directions I cannot but iustifie them in respect of * 1.5 many professed Divines, which intrude themselues

into the holy of holyes, and pry into Gods secret coun∣sels, without any manifest change of minde or affecti∣on, scarce of rayment, except perhappes to make a co∣lour of change vnto the world, by alteration of the hew, oftimes more then wontedly pampering their wonted greene desires, vnder the shelter of a sable suite or candide robe. And I haue often observed it to my griefe; that as none declaime more passionately a∣gainst dead heresies, then dissolute and licentious li∣vers: so in questions of greatest moment, and on their part of fearefull consequences, if they should happen to proue false, none resolue more peremptorily for their owne, or more vncharitably against others opi∣nions, then such as haue least sounded the fundamen∣tall principles of true divinitie, most vnable to judge of consequences. None, more impatient of contra∣diction by others, then such, as being let alone, will in few lines often contradict themselues.

To bequeath titles of auncient heretickes to their liue brethren: to shoote out their bitter arrowes, at all adventures, against as many of their fellow souldiers, as doe not shoote by their compasse, none are more forward then such, as never sought to know God, but by heare-say; having made a secret covenant with their sluggish selues to take that to be the true sense and meaning of his word, that to be the right tenour of his will, which some worthy Divines (more com∣mendable for generall paines, then for exact dis∣cussion of these particulars,) but in whose writings they haue beene most conversant, shall avouch.

If they can put a new fashion on vulgar, olde worne, or home-spunne stuffe, nothing forraigne, though of

the same threed better woven, and more durable, must be admitted. What is the reason? Like neate artificers they rate their hand-labours in materialls of others providing too high. Not to vtter their olde notes or gatherings of youth, is a losse no lesse to them, then for Marchants not to vent such wares as haue layne long vpon their handes. And whatsoever they haue vttered to the world by word or pen, they deeme it no small part of their credit to warrant (if neede require) by solemne oath for good stuffe. By this confidence they gaine credit with the multitude, and having this, verily they haue their full reward. But seeing the most exact knowledge, that can be had of God or of his at∣tributes in this life, must still end in admiration; the first and surest ground of true knowledge in this sub∣ject, must be avoydance of peremptory and precise determinations in particulars of confessed difficultie. To hold negatiues, directly contrary to many parti∣cular resolutions commonly received; is alwaies more easie, oftimes more vsefull, and for the most part more necessary, then to determine of affirmatiues. Nor is it necessary we should abate the strength and vigour of our assent to generall principles for want of sure foo∣ting in speciall difficulties; but rather hold it by a hanke or reyne from violent courses in ruggie or slip∣pery passages. This kinde of suspense, which procee∣deth from restraint of judgement, not from deadnesse of devotion, is the mother of admiration, and admi∣ration the nurse of all true knowledge concerning God.

8. One of the best meanes of knowing, what may be knowne of him in this life, is by knowing our selues;

and the best way to know our selues is to learne the meaning of that precept of denying our selues. This is a depth never dived into by any Heathen, nor well sounded by most Christians, though the true and per∣fect image of God be no where so conspicuous, as in the bottome of it. The hidden treasures of his mercy and goodnesse (attributes most essentially annexed to the common notion of his nature) were clearliest ope∣ned to the world in the humiliation of our Saviour: and that glory of the God-head, which shined in him cannot be represented vnto vs, vnlesse the like minde be in vs, which was in him. But the particular bran∣ches of this dutie spring more directly out of the Ar∣ticles concerning Christ, vnto such knowledge (of whom so much as may bring forth the true similitude of his minde, the true knowledge of the divine na∣ture, and generall attributes, is by way of method ne∣cessary, and vnto this knowledge the generalities of the former principle presupposed, and practised,) there is yet a more excellent way.

CHAPTER LI.

The best meanes to rectifie and perfect our knowledge of God is to loue him sincerely. Of the mutuall ayde or fur∣therance, which the loue of God and the knowledge of God reciprocally and in a manner circularly afford each to other in their setting and growth.

1. TO make loue the mother, and know∣ledge the daughter will seeme an 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 or meere inversion of natures progresse, from whose footesteps the

common Maxime, [vnseene vnsought after; or (as the Latines expresse it,) Ignoti nulla cupido; vnknowne vn∣desired;] hath beene gathered by the investigators of truth. The very essences of desire and loue (especi∣ally of things not actually enioyed) are so closely en∣terwrapt and linkt together, that for knowledge, or whatsoever is no essentiall part of themselues to in∣terpose or come betweene them, is impossible. If then knowledge (according to the former saying) be al∣wayes presupposed to desire, how should it be the of∣spring of loue?

2. The former Maxime notwithstanding (if I much mistake not) though within its limits without con∣trolle, yet rightly examined hath no just authoritie, saue onely in such expresse and actuall desires, as are fashioned to determinate particulars desired. It no way stretcheth to that mother desire, which all men natu∣rally haue of knowledge indefinitely taken. This al∣wayes workes before we are aware, and all of vs desire to know, before we know what knowledge or desire meaneth. This natiue desire of knowledge, no man I thinke (were he to speake directly and bona fide to this point) would avouch to be different from the desire of happinesse alike naturally and inseparably rooted in all. One, & the same inclination of the reasonable nature swayes to happinesse, as to the end or marke, through knowledge, as the entry or passage; but of∣ten miscarries, not so much through faint intention or remisse endevours, as from too hastie levell, vnstea∣die loose, or immature delivery, before it be furnished with internall weight to ballance it selfe against exter∣nall impulsions or attractions. Goodnesse divine, in

whose fruition this happinesse consisteth, was the port for which the Philosophers in their intricate disputes were bound: the point, whereon the former desire is by nature directly set; but from which the alacrious endevours or vigorous intentions of men most gree∣die of knowledge, vsually divert as far, as an headlesse vnfeathered flight, shot out of a strong bow in a migh∣tie winde, doth from the marke whereto the Archer would haue sent it. Not the most exquisite knowledge of natures secrecies, of every creature in the world, can adde ought vnto our happinesse, otherwise than by rectifying or right levelling that inbredde desire, which impells or swayes vs to this anxious search of knowledge. For knowledge it selfe we desire onely as it is good, whereas no goodnesse, saue divine, can giue satisfaction to this desire. Vnto this point or center of the soules rest and contentment, which Philosophers sought vp and downe by as many Arch-lines, as there be spheres or circles in the severall workes of nature, the Psalmist directs vs by a short corde or string: De∣light thou in the Lord, and he shall giue thee thy hearts de∣sire. Psal. 37.4. And our hearts desire includes (at least) such a measure of knowledge and true happinesse, as in this life is fittest for vs. But as we may in some sort desire his goodnesse, may we so truely delight in him, whom wee haue not knowne? Is it true of our hearts, what Iacob said of* 1.6 Bethel? Are they indeed the houses of God? is he in them, and wee are not aware of his pre∣sence?

3. Of things in their nature sensible, but never ap∣prehended by any particular sense, there may be an implanted hate or loathing. As whatsoever the mo∣ther

neare childebirth hath beene affrighted or mis∣affected with, will be misliked by the childe brought forth. Hence doe these secret enmities, which some reasonable creatures beare to dumbe beasts, which ne∣ver offended them, vsually growe. The Paroxysmes or fits of this dislike, are never occasioned but by sight or feeling, or some other sensitiue actuall apprehensi∣ons of matters thus offensiue: howbeit, some grud∣gings of the same disease may be procured by meere vicinitie or the vnknowne presence of the adversary; as I haue known some men, restlesse after hard labour, and ever and anone to refuse the seate of their wonted rest, not knowing any reason, why so they did, till search being made, the sight of their adversary, (that was a Cat) did bring their fit vpon them. And yet I make no question, but either delightful imployments, exercise of the spirit and senses, or the company of louely creatures, might easily haue either prevented the working of the Antipathie, or deaded all impres∣sion of irkesomnesse or dislike; although their badde neighbour had still beene present. As dislike and hate from antipathie; so loue or delight may be raised from secret contact or vicinitie of sympathizing na∣tures. And whether we holde our soules to be imme∣diately created of nothing, or to spring as branches from our parents; both wayes they may be capable of impressions from Gods presence, which (though for the most part vnapprehended) is alwayes intimate and immediate to them as well in their operations, as productions; and would vndoubtedly fill them with secret joy, did we not either giue preposterous issue to such gladnesse, as by the sympathie is often vnwit∣tingly

raised in our hearts; or stifle the first workings or intimations of it by contrary motions of vnhal∣lowed mirth. Were those secret rayes of warmth and comfort, which daily issue from his brightnesse, not cast (as they vsually are) vpon secondary causes or by-standing creatures, but reflected vpon their foun∣taine; the light of his countenance would more clear∣ly shine vpon vs, and instampe our mindes with the right portraicture of his perfections imitable. The summe of the Psalmists late mentioned advise is, to nurse the sympathizing instincts or seeds of secret joy, but by abandoning all delight, saue in those practises, which preserue the health and peace of conscience. For to delight in the Lord and in his law, are with him tearmes synonymall. Vnto this point the last pas∣sages of the fourth booke, as of laying vp Gods word in our hearts, of giving mature and right vent to internall motions or suggestions, haue (as the Reader will ea∣sily perceiue) peculiar and immediate reference. The imperfect light of speculatiue or artificiall know∣ledge may well beget some heate of loue: but the per∣fection or splendor of knowledge divine cannot spring but from loue throughly kindled and bursting out into a flame, which it seldome doth, if those in∣ward touches of vnknowne joy, finde too much, too speedie, or sinister vent. It is an excellent observation, which some haue misquoted out of Plato, to this pur∣pose.

Sacred mysteries can hardly be taught with words: but if a man long inures himselfe to divine matters, and fit his life to his meditations, the light of truth will suddainly burst out, as from a sparling fire. Vide Pansam. pag. 9.

4. The doctrine proposed we may maintaine with∣out intermedling in that quarrell betweene some late * 1.7 Schoolemen and mysticall Divines more auncient, concerning the precedency of loue and knowledge, in the vnition of our soules with God. In the opinion of the auncients, the acts of loue or affection outstart actuall knowledge or apprehension. Wee onely giue this precedency to the indefinite desire or apprehen∣sion of manifest joy from a cause vnknown and latent. And perhaps the reason why some so stiffely deny all possibilitie, etiam de potentia dei absoluta, for loue to kindle in the rationall soule, without some present elicit act of knowledge or apprehension, may be their aversnesse from Plato in holding science to be but a kind of reminiscence. And though vpon these termes we may not second him; yet can wee as little brooke their opinions, which either expressely maintaine or tacitely suppose the manner, how loue or knowledge rationall are first planted or receiue increase, to resem∣ble the compositions of art, rather then the naturall growth of vegetables. The first seedes of both, are not from without, but within vs; and the manner how our knowledge comes to perfection, may (I take it) be best illustrated by the manner how wee our selues become capable of this chiefe ornament of our na∣ture. The first and prime substance of all bodies or∣ganicall is homogeneall or of one forme. The mould, whence man (farre the most excellent in this ranke) is by degrees (scarce sensible) extracted, ought to be reckoned rather amongst the creatures linelesse and inanimate, than vitall. At the best, it is but as the meane betweene them, not more like to the one in possibilitie,

then it is to the other in act; yet duely cherished, it quickeneth and brancheth it selfe into severall parts, first exercising onely the opperations of life, then of sense, lastly of reason. For although the rationall soule be immediately created by God; yet the opperations of it, as naturally presuppose the opperations of sense, as these doe opperations vegetable. Parallell hereto, our naturall desire of knowledge or true happinesse (considered in its first roote or element) is but (as the Schooles speake) Quoddam naturae pondus, A sway or bent or secret working of nature, seeking to be delivered of this her burthen. Afterwards it aymes or levells at some particular obiects, rather drawne vnto them by sympathie or impeld by instinct, then directed by ex∣presse rule of reason or actuall choyse. And perhaps, the first thing apprehended by it, is its owne attracti∣ons or impulsions; the apprehension of them being but as it were a reflexe or doubling of former inclina∣tions or propensions; and once come to this perfecti∣on, it moues it selfe, and loues as well the exercise of its owne acts or choyce, as the objects, to which it was otherwise drawne or impeld; now vsing sense as a ser∣vant, which before did leade it as a guide, but did not giue it life or beginning.

5. As foode received by the mother doth onely nourish, not giue life to the fruit conceived in her wombe; so the most pregnant suggestions of sence doe onely feed, not beget the internall desire of know∣ledge or happinesse. The best instructions or precepts of Tutors, of Parents, or the experiments wee get our selues, are but as so many offices or rules of Midwifrie, for bringing forth what was before conceived.

Meditation it selfe, (which is, in common reputation, the mother of science) or whatsoever intention of minde we can vse, serue no otherwise to the former purpose, then the influence of the Sunne or Starres doth to the productions of flowers or plants; or (were the story true) as the eyes of Ostriches, or the warmth of other birds to the formation of their young ones. And thus we see naturall inclinations or desires al∣wayes come to best proofe, when they are cherished with assiduous, calme, and quiet meditations: where∣as the nimble motions of vnsetled braines vsually suf∣fer the best seedes, which Man was permitted to bring with him out of Paradise, to perish, as some birds doe their young ones, by often running off their nests. Not that their inventions are not oftimes most plea∣sant, or delightfull to spectators: for so curious pic∣tures observantly taken from the severall perfections of many liuelesse statues, doe farre surpasse any one liue-substance in freshnesse of colour or exact propor∣tion; howbeit, the meanest creature endued with life, and motion, simply considered, is much better then the most glorious workes of Polycletus or Apelles. And herein the nimble or pleasant wit, and the setled contemplator properly differ: The one proceeds by addition, or quaint composition of externall or bor∣rowed formes; the other, by multiplication of his owne internall capacities; or by a kinde of silent incu∣bation, doth as it were hatch his brood, and finds eve∣ry limbe or branch drawne out of his proper roote, before he marke the frame or composture. And though the conception be sometimes slow, and the proportion long in setting; yet the fruit of his minde

once throughly sett, overgrowes the other in height, in strength, and vigour. But vnto this facilitie in brin∣ging forth, few attaine without extraordinary mid∣wifry or much experience. The difficulties of their first travells make many prostitute their wills to fruit∣lesse popular commercements, never resolving to con∣ceine more deeply of any matters, then may occasion extemporary pleasure or delight, or procure some an∣niversarie or solemne flashes of generall applause. But much more painefull, then any contemplation besides, whereof the reasonable soule seeketh to be delivered, is our owne new birth, which, in the Apo∣stles language, is but the fashioning of Christ Iesus or Gods image in vs. In this our translation from dark∣nesse to light how often are we enforct to cry out with Ezechiah; The Children are come vnto the birth, and there is no strength to bring forth. Sometimes we seeke with sighes and groans to giue vent to the inward working of the implanted inclination, stirred and quickened by the spirit of God. Otherwhiles, we striue to streng∣then the expulsiue force, or to make an eruption by knocking our breasts; oftimes enforced to rest con∣tented with a streame of teares, strained out by this strugling agonie betweene the infusions of spirituall life, and the flesh resisting this our birth, as the Dragon did the bringing forth of the Womans childe. How∣beit these sorrowful teares serue to this end, as a spring or summer shower to a ioyful harvest. And the greater our paine in the travell, or the longer our expectation hath beene masked with carnall blindnesse; the grea∣ter alwayes is our joy in the delivery; when our minds are enlightened to see the beautie of that, which here∣tofore

we so fervently expected, only by secret instinct or sympathie. Then fearing lest these transient gleams might fade or vanish; either we craue with olde Sime∣on our Nunc dimittis, Lord now lettest thou thy servants depart in peace, while our eyes beholde thy salvation, or complaine with the Prophet, How long wilt thou be as a passenger or as one, that soiourneth but for a night? Re∣turne ô Lord, returne vnto thy resting place, thou, and the Arke of thy strength. And with Peter, Wee proffer to build him a lasting tabernacle, to allot him our hearts for a perpe∣tuall habitation.

6. What joy of heart doth vsually accompany those internall illuminatiōs, which breake forth from such ardent desire of acquaintance with the divine nature, as hath beene secretly kindled and nourished by a touch or sympathie of his former vnapprehen∣ded presence; and how incomparably they exceede the most liuely representations which others can frame of his essence or attributes, whether for solid information of the vnderstanding, for affecting the will, or for vniting our soules and affections to him, may in part, be gathered from that excessiue delight, which men naturally take in their owne labours in re∣spect of others more exquisitely adorned: partly from the measure of our exceeding our selues either in the right apprehension or exquisite adorning of subjects much affected, in comparison of these which wee na∣turally fancy not or lightly esteeme. The fruits of o∣ther mens labours, being as it were, gathered to our hands, we like no farther, then as they fit those moulds of our speculatiue reflectiue conceites, which haue their seate in the superior part of the soule, and scarce

communicate with affection. And our judgements are alwayes most sincere in respect of those mens workes, whose persons or conversation haue given vs least occasion of any affectionate sympathie or anti∣pathie. But in the approbation of our owne inventi∣ons, affection and that naturall inclination, whence they spring, haue swaying voyces: and vnlesse these stubborne suffragants be first squared to the rules of reason taught by others, they enforce our judgements to bow vnto their bent. But albeit too much affection leadeth many into folly, yet no man vnderstands or handles any subiect well, which he doth not much af∣fect. Hence Poets, as their inventions are most deli∣cate, so are they vsually most in loue with them; be∣cause the same bent of affection, which animates and strengthens their fancies to bring forth, doth also en∣amour them with the beautie of their owne broode. Howbeit though indignation may giue the facultie of making verses, where nature hath denyed it: yet to make a Poet, nature it selfe is not able, but by giving an extraordinary affection of like or * 1.8 dislike, of such objects as fall within the consideratiō of the Poeticall facultie. Generally as blunt yrons throughly heated peirce further into hard bodies, then cold edg-tooles; so witts in themselues not the acutest, whilest accom∣panied with ardor of affection, conceiue most acutely and deeply of matters much affected, and will got through such difficulties, as would turne the edges of the best witts living not thus backed or fortified. Nor is it the nimblenesse of conceit or apprehension, but the vnrelenting temper of inbred desire and vn∣cessant sway or working of secret instinct, which

brings the seeds of knowledge to iust growth and ma∣turitie; as those plants prosper best, not which shoote out fastest or flourish soonest, but such as haue the soundest rootes, and sappiest stemmes.

7. As reason requires affection to backe it so much more doth affection neede the eye of reason (dome∣sticke or forraine) to direct and levell it; nor is it one∣ly directed, but withall refined and purified by being as it were new cast in the modells of our rationall or re∣flexe conceipts; each act of setled contemplation di∣minisheth somwhat of its naturall sowrnesse, as crabs or wilde apples by often transplanting or engraffing grow more milde and pleasant. As there is a circular progresse of seede from trees, and trees from seede: so is there a reciprocall production of desire or loue by knowledge, and of knowledge by desire or loue in one and the same man. For mans actions of this kinde are immanent, and multiply within himselfe. And as the seed since the first creation doth still in order of nature go before the tree; so doth knowledge alwayes presuppose instinct or desire. And yet knowledge of things amiable being come vnto maturitie is alwayes laden with loue, as with its naturall fruit. Nor should wee so much desire to know any subject, vnlesse loue to it knowne were most naturall. So that knowledge properly is but our naturall desire, or implanted blind loue restored to sight: and nature doth as it were first grope after that, which at length she comes to see, and having seene desires to embrace or kisse. The appa∣rant inconstancy of yong desires never satisfied mani∣fests their naturall blindnesse in that they secretly sol∣licite a guide or instructer: and the originall of this in∣constancie,

(as was intimated before) is but the wor∣king of the soule seeking to vnsheath the implanted notion or desire of knowledge and of true happinesse from those fleshly invorapments, wherewith it was blind folded as a childe in the wombe; or to deduce the originall of the error from a principle more pro∣perly Philosophicall.

As vnto knowledge truely speculatiue there is required a perfect abstraction of the obiect knowne, or of the forme by which wee know it, from all materiall conditions, or sensitiue adiuncts, which accompanie it: so on the behalfe of the intellectiue facultie it selfe (especially for the right contemplation of matters morall or practi∣call) a correspondent extraction of the ingraffed no∣tion or desire of good is as requisite. For as those speculatiue or generall rules, which haue beene ta∣ken from sensitiue experiments not rightly severed or abstracted, though they holde in some, yet faile in most particulars, when wee come to practise: so likewise all loue of goodnesse whatsoever, is vnsin∣cere and vnconstant, vnlesse the ingraffed desire of happinesse, whence it springs, be first stript of those sensitiue desires or propensions, which, by the cor∣ruption of nature are either linked with it or inclose it, as the Iv••e doth the Oake.

And yet the more wee enure our selues to any sensuall or externall good, the greater advantage those sensuall appetites or propen∣sions gaine, as well for strengthening, as for fast link∣ing or mingling themselues with the intellectuall in∣clination or desire, which by long custome they ei∣ther quite blind, or make it willing to admit them for its leader.

8. This then is the Aphorisme, for whose proofe thus much hath beene premised; The most compendious and safest way to conceiue or speake aright of God or his goodnesse, is to haue our inbred desire of happinesse right set in youth, and continually held as in a baye vnto those practises; whereto God hath promised the communication of his gracious presence. So shall the sincere knowledge of his goodnesse and other attributes breake forth (in a measure fittest for every man in his vocation) in best season, and bring forth the most lasting, constant, and pleasant fruits of loue. And knowledge againe relying vpon the internall desire of happinesse, which is the stemme or branch, whence these fruits of loue pro∣ceede, doth season and sweeten the very nature or propertie of it, and in a sort transforme from a wilde plant to a tree of life; as cunning gardiners by often transplanting & good dressing, much better the stocke, and in processe of time, in a manner, alter the very specificall nature of the fruit. And after our cogitati∣ons come once to revolue vpon the fore-mentioned sympathie or setled peace of conscience, (which cannot arise, but from Gods presence) as vpon a firme and constant Center, our soules become like a Surveyers Table rightly sett, for taking the true Modell of the in comprehensible Nature.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Math. 5. vers. 8.
• * 1.2

  Ioh. 14. vers. 9.
• * 1.3

  Philip. Mocenicus.
• a 1.4

  Iames. 5.
• * 1.5

  Fingunt il∣lae literae, ve∣getant{que} pu∣erile ingeni∣um, at{que} ad divinarum scripturarū cognitionem mirè praepa∣rant, adquas ilico pedibus manibus{que} illotis irrum∣pere, pene sa∣crilegi genus est. Hierony∣mus eorum impudentiam taxat, qui modo a secu∣laribus lite∣ris profecti, audent divi∣nas tractare scripturas. At quanto faciunt im∣pudentius, qui ne gusta∣tis quidem illis, istuc ip∣sum audent? Erasmi. En∣chirid cap 2.
• * 1.6

  Gen. 28.
• * 1.7

  Ge••son and Vasques.
• * 1.8

  Hoc amet, hoc spernet promissi car∣minis Au∣ther.