The blessednesse of the righteous discoursed from Psal. 17, 15 / by John Howe ...

CHAP. X. (Book 10)

The season of this satisfaction, which is two∣fold; at

• Death.
• Resurrection.

The former spoken to, wherein is shewn, That this life is to the soul (even of a Saint) but as a sleep. That at death it awakes. As to the latter, that there is a considerable accession to its happiness at the resurrection.

3. THe season of this blessedness, comes next to be considered, which (as the words [when I awake] have been concluded here to import) must in the general be stated beyond the time of this present life.

Holy souls are here truly blessed, not per∣fectly, or their present blessedness is perfect only in nature and kind, not in degree. 'Tis in this respect, as far short of perfection, as their holiness is. Their hunger and thirst are pre∣sent, their being filled is yet future. The ex∣perience of Saints in their best state on earth, their desires, their hopes, their sighs, and groans do sufficiently witness they are not satisfied, or if they be, in point of security, they are not in point of enjoyment. The completi∣on of this blessedness is reserved to a better state, as its being the end, of their way, their rest,* 1.1 from their labours, the reward of their work

doth import, and require. Therefore many Scriptures, that speak of their present rest, peace, repose, satisfaction, must be understood in a comparative, not the absolute highest sense.

More particularly in that other state; the season of their blessedness is twofold, or there are two terms from whence (in respect of some gradual, or modal diversifications) it may be said severally to commence, or bear date. Viz.

The time

• Of their entrance upon a blessed immorta∣lity, when they shall have laid down their earthly bodies in death.
• Of their consummation therein, when they receive their bodies glorified, in the general resurrection.

Both these may not unfitly be signified by the Phrase in the Text [when I awake] For, though Scripture doth more directly apply the term of [awaking] to the latter; there will be no violence done to the Metaphor, if we extend its signification to the former also. To which purpose, it is to be noted, that it is not Death, formally, or the disanimating of the body, we would have here to be under∣stood by it (which indeed sleeping would more aptly signifie than awaking) but (what is co-incident therewith in the same period) the exuscitation, and revival of the soul. When the body falls asleep, then doth the Spirit awake, and the eye-lids of the morning, even of an eternal day do now first open upon it.

1. Therefore we shall not exclude from this

season the introductive state of blessedness, which takes its beginning from the blessed souls first entrance into the invisible state. And the fitness of admitting it will appear by clear∣ing these two things.

1. That its condition in this life, even at the best, is in some sort but a sleep.

2. That when it passes out of it into the in∣visible Regions, 'tis truly said to awake.

1. Its abode in this mortal body, is but a continual sleep; its senses are bound up, a drowsie slumber possesses, and suspends all its faculties and powers.

Before the renovating change, how fre∣quently doth the Scripture speak of sinners as men a sleep?* 1.2 Let not us sleep as do others. Awake thou that sleepest,* 1.3 and stand up from the dead, &c. They are in a dead sleep, under the sleep of death. They apprehend things as men asleep. How slight, obscure, hovering notions have they of the most momentous things? and which it most concerns them to have thorough, real apprehensions of. All their thoughts of God, Christ, Heaven, Hell, of Sin, of Holi∣ness, are but uncertain, wild guesses, blind hallucinations, incoherent phansies; the ab∣surdity, and inconcinnity whereof, they no more reflect upon then men asleep. They know not these things, but only dream of them. They put darkness for light, and light for darkness, have no senses exercised to discern between good and evil. The most substantial realities are with them meer shadowes, and chemaera's, Phansied, and imagined dangers startle

them (as 'tis wont to be with men in a dream) real ones, though never so near them, they as little fear, as they. The creature of their own imagination, the Lion in the way, which they dream of in their slothful slumber, affrights them; but the real roaring Lion that is ready to devour them, they are not afraid of.

And conversion doth but relax, and inter∣mit; it doth not totally break of this sleep; It, as it were, attenuates the consopiting fumes, doth not utterly dispel them. What a difficulty is it to watch but one hour? There are some lucid, and vivid intervals, but of how short continuance? how soon doth the awakened soul close its heavy eyes, and fall asleep again? how often do temptations surprize even such, in their slumbring fits, while no sense of their danger can prevail with them to watch and pray (with due care and constancy) least they en∣ter thereinto.

* 1.4 Hither are most of the sins of our lives to be imputed and referr'd, not to meer ignorance, that we know not sin from duty; or what will please God, and what displease him; but to a drowsie inadvertency, that we keep not our spirits in a watchful, considering posture. Our eyes that should be ever towards the Lord,* 1.5 will not be kept open, and though we resolve, we forget our selves; before we are aware we find our selves overtaken: Sleep comes on up∣on us, like an armed man, and we cannot avert it. How often do we hear, and read, and pray, and meditate as persons asleep? as if we knew not what we were about? How re∣markable,

useful providences escape either our notice, or due improvement, amidst our se∣cure slumbers? How many Visits from hea∣ven are lost to us, when we are (as it were) between sleeping and waking (I sleep,* 1.6 but my heart waketh) and hardly own the voice that calls upon us, till our beloved hath withdrawn himself. Indeed, what is the whole of our life here but a dream? The entire scene of this sensible world, but a vision of the night? where every man walks but in a vain shew: where we are mockt with shadows & our cre∣dulous sense abus'd by▪ impostures,* 1.7 and delusive appearances; nor are we ever secure from the most destructive, mischievous deception, further than as our souls are possest with the apprehensions that this is the very truth of our case, and thence instructed, to consider: and not to prefer the shadows of time, before the great realities of eternity.

Nor is this sleep casual, but even connatural to our present state, the necessary result of so strict an union, and commerce with the body, which is, to the in-dwelling Spirit, as a dor∣mitory or charnel-house, rather than a man∣sion. A soul drench't in sensuality (a Le••••e that hath too little of fiction in it) and immur'd in a sloathful putid slesh, sleeps, as it were, by fate▪ not by chance; and is only capable of full relief, by suffering a Dissolution; which it hath reason to welcome as a jubilee, and in the instant of departure to sacrifice as he did* 1.8 (with that easie and warrantable change, to make a Heathen expression Scriptural, Jehovae

liberatori) to adore and praise its great Deli∣verer. At least (accounts being once made up, and a meetness in any measure attained for the heavenly inheritance, &c.) hath no reason to regret, or dread the approaches of the eter∣nal day, more than we do the return of the Sun after a dark and long-some night. But, as the sluggard doth nothing more unwillingly than forsake his bed, nor bears any thing with more regret, than to be awak't out of his sweet sleep, though you should intice him, with the pleasures of a Paradise, to quit a smo∣ky loathsome Cottage; so fares it with the sluggish soul, as if it were lodg'd in an in∣chanted Bed; 'tis so fast held by the charms of the body, all the glory of the other world is little enough to tempt it out, than which there is not a more deplorable Symptome of this sluggish slumbring state. So deep an oblivion (which you know is also naturally incident to sleep) hath seiz'd it of its own Countrey, of its alliances above, its relation to the Father and world of Spirits, It takes this earth for its home, where 'tis both in exile and captivity at once. And (as a Prince, stoln away in his infancy, and bred up in a beggers shed) so little seeks, that it declines a better state. This is the degenerous torpid disposition of a soul lost in flesh, and inwrapt in stupifying clay; which hath been deeply resented by some Hea∣thens. So one brings in Socrates pathetically bewailing this oblivious dreaming temper of his soul

which (saith he) had seen that pul∣chritude (you must pardon him, here, the

conceit of its pre-existence) that neither. humane voice could utter, nor eye behold But that now, in this life, it had only some little remembrance thereof, as in a dream, being both in respect of place, and condition, far removed from so pleasant sights, prest down into an earthly station, and there en∣compast with all manner of dirt and filthi∣ness, &c.

And to the same purpose Plato often speaks in the name of the same person: and particu∣larly,* 1.9 of the winged stati, of the good soul* 1.10, when apart from the body, carried in its triumphant flying Chariot (of which he gives a large description,* 1.11 somewhat resembling So∣lomons rapturous Metaphor: Before I was aware, my soul made me as the Chariots of Aminnadib.) But being in the body, 'tis with it, as with a Bird that hath lost its wings, it falls a sluggish weight to the earth.

Which indeed is the state even of the best, in a degree, within this Tabernacle. A sleepy torpose stops their flight. They can fall, but not ascend; the remaines of such a drowsiness do still hang even about Saints themselves. The Apostle therefore calls upon such to awake out of sleep; from that consideration (as we know men are not wont to sleep so intensely towards morning) that now their salvation was nearer then when they believed,* 1.12 i. e. (as some judicious Interpreters understand that place) for that they were nearer death,* 1.13 and eterni∣ty than when they first became Christians (though this passage be also otherwise

(and not improbably interpreted.) However,

2. The holy souls release and dismission, from its earthly body (which is that we propounded next to be considered) will excusse and shake off this drowsie sleep. Now is the happy Season of its awaking into the heavenly vital light of God. The blessed morning of that long desired day is now dawned upon it; the cumbersome night-vail is laid aside, and the garments of salvation and immortal glory are now put on. It hath past through the trouble & darkness of a wearisome night, and now is joy arrived with the morning (as we may be permitted to allude to those words of the Psal∣mist,* 1.14 though that be not supposed to be the pe∣culiar sense.)

I conceive my self here not concern'd, ope∣rously to insist in proving that the souls of Saints sleep not in the interval, between death and the general resurrection; but enjoy pre∣sent blessedness. It being besides the design of a practical discourse, which rather intends the propounding and improvement of things acknowledg'd, and agree'd for the advantage and benefit of them with whom they are so; then the discussing of things dubious and con∣troversible. And what I here propound in order to a consequent improvement and ap∣plication, should methinks pass for an acknow∣ledg'd truth among them that professedly be∣lieve, and seriously read and consider the Bible. For meer Philosophers, that do not come into this account, 'twere impertinent to discourse with them from a Text of Scripture; and

where my design only obliges me to intend the handling of that; and to deliver it from what may fitly be supposed to have its ground there, unless their allegations did carry with them the Species of demonstrating the simple impossibility of what is asserted thence to the power of that God whose word we take it to be; which I have not found any thing they say to amount to. That we have reason to pre∣sume it an acknowledged thing among them that will be concluded by Scripture; That the Soul doth not sleep when it ceases to ani∣mate its earthly body, many plain Texts do evince, which are amassed together, by the reverend Mr. Baxter,* 1.15 some of the principal whereof I would invite any that waver in this matter seriously to consider. As the words of our Saviour to the Thief on the Cross. This day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.* 1.16 That of the Apostle,* 1.17 We are willing rather to be ab∣sent from the body, and present with the Lord. And that,* 1.18 I am in a straight, having a desire to depart,* 1.19 and to be with Christ. That passage, The Spirits of just men made perfect, &c. Which are expressions so clear,* 1.20 that it is hard for an industrious Caviller to find what to except to them; and indeed the very exceptions that are put in, are so frivolous, that they carry a plain confession, there is nothing colourable to be said.

Yea and most evident it is from those Texts; not only that holy souls sleep not, in that state of separation; but that they are awaked by it (as out of a former sleep) into a much more lively, and vigorous activity, than they enjoyed before: And translated into a state,

as much better then their former, as the tortures of a Cross, are more ungrateful, then the plea∣sures of a Paradise; these joyes fuller of vitalitie, then those sickly dying faintings. As the im∣mediate presence, and close imbraces of the

Lord of life; are more delectable then a mourn∣ful disconsolate absence from him (which the Apostle therefore tells us he desired, as far better (and with an Emphasis which our Eng∣lish

too faintly expresses; for he uses a double comparative [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉] by much more better, and as a perfected, i. e, a crowned triumphant Spirit, that hath attained the end of its race (as the words import in the agonistical notion* 1.21) is now in a more vivid, joyous state then, when, late∣ly

toyling in a tiresome way, it languished un∣der many imperfections. And it is obser∣vable, that in the three former Scriptures, that phrase of being with Christ, or being present with him, is the same which is used by the Apostle, 1 Thes. 4. 17. to express the state of blessedness after the resurrection, inti∣mating plainly the sameness of the blessedness before, and after. And though this phrase be also used to signi••ie the present injoyment saints have of Gods gracious presence in this life (which is also in nature, and kind the same) yet it is plainly used in these Scriptures (the two latter more especially) to set out to us such a degree of that blessedness, that in compa∣rison thereof our present being with Christ, is a not being with him; our presence with him, now, an absence from him. While we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord; and I am in a strait betwixt two, desiring to depart (or having a desire unto desolution) and to be with Christ, &c. How strangely mistaken, and disappointed had the blessed Apostle been, had his absence from the body, his dissoluti∣on, his release, set him further off from Christ, or made him less capable of converse

with him, then before he was! And how ab∣surd would it be; to say the spirits of the just are perfected, by being cast into a stupifying sleep; yea, or being put into any state, not better then they were in before? But their state is evidently far better. The body of death is now laid aside, and the wights of sin, that did so easily beset, are shaken off; flesh and sin are laid down together; the soul is rid of its burdensome bands, and shackles; hath quitted its filthy darksome prison (the usual place of lasiness, and sloth, is come forth of it's drowsie dormitory, and the glory of God is risen upon it. 'Tis now come into the world of realities; where things appear as they are, no longer as in a drean, or vision of the night. The vital quickning beams of divine light, are darting in upon it, on every side, and turn∣ing it into their own likeness. The shadows of the evening are vanished, and fled away. It converses with no other objects but what are full themselves, and most apt to replenish it with energy and life. This cannot be but a joyful awakning; a blessed season of satisfaction and delight, indeed, to the enlightned, re∣vived soul. But

2. It must be acknowledged the further, and more eminent season of this blessedness will be, the general resurrection day, which is more expresly signified in Scripture, by this term of [awaying] as is manifest in many plain Texts,* 1.22 where 'tis either expresly thus used,* 1.23 or implyed to have this meaning in the opposite sense of the word sleep.* 1.24* 1.25

What addition shall then be made to the Saints blessedness, lyes more remote from our apprehension; in as much as Scripture states not the degree of that blessedness which shall intervene. We know, by a too sad in∣structive experience, the calamities of our present state, and can therefore more easily conceive, wherein it is capable of better∣ment, by the deposition of a sluggish, cum∣bersome body, where those calamities mostly have their spring: but then we know less where to fix our foot, or whence to take our rise, in estimating the additional felicities of that future state, when both the states to be compared are so unknown to us.

But that there will be great additions is plain enough. The full recompence of obedience, and devotedness to Christ, of foregoing all for him, is affixed by his promise, to the resur∣rection of the just; The judgment day gives every one his portion according to his work••. Then must the holy, obedient Christian hear from its Redeemers mouth, Come ye-blessed of my Father, inherit the Kingdom, &c. Till then, the Devils think their torment to be before their time. 'Tis when he shall appear, we shall be like him▪ and see him as he is. That noted day is the day of being presented faultless with ex∣ceeding joy.

And divers things there are, obviously enough to be reflected on, which cannot but be understood to contribute much to the in∣crease and improvement of this inchoate blessedness.

The acquisition of a glorified body. For our vile bodies shall be so far transfigured,* 1.26 as to be made like [conform to] the glorious body of the Saviour,* 1.27 the Lord Jesus Christ. And this shall be when he shall appear from heaven, where Saints here below, are required to have their commerce as the infranchised Citizens there∣of, and from whence they are to continue looking for him, in the mean time. When he terminates and puts a period to that expecta∣tion of his Saints on earth, then shall that great change be made, i. e. when he actually appears, at which time the trumpet s••unds, and even sleeping dust it self awakes;* 1.28 the hallow∣ed dust of them that slept in Jesus first, who are then to come with him. This change may well be conceived to add, considerably, to their felicity. A natural congruity, and ap∣petite is now answered, and satisfied, which did either lie dormant, or was under some∣what an anxious, restless expectation before; neither of which could well consist with a state of blessedness every way, already perfect. And that there is a real desire, and expectation of this change, seems to be plainly intimated in those words of Job,* 1.29 All the days of my ap∣pointed time will I wait till my change come: Where he must rather be understood to speak of the resurrection, than of death (as his words are commonly mistaken, and misap∣plyed) as will appear by setting down the Context from the seventh verse. For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch, thereof will not

cease. Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock thereof dye in the ground: yet through the sent of water, it will bud and bring forth boughs like a plant. But man dyeth and wasteth away; yea man giveth up the Ghost, and where is he? As the waters fail from the Sea, and the flood decayeth, and dryeth up; so man ly∣eth down, and riseth not till the heavens be no more: they shall not be awaked nor raised out of their sleep. O that thou wouldest hide me in the grave, that thou wouldest keep me secret till thy ••rath be p••st, that thou wouldest appoint me a set time, and remember me! If a man dye, shall he live again? All the dayes of my appointed time, will I wait till my change come. Thou shalt call, and I will answer thee; thou wilt have a desire to the work of thy hands. He first speaks accord∣ing to common apprehension, and sensible ap∣pearance touching the hopeless state of man in death, as though it were less capable of reparation, then that of some inferiour crea∣tures unto the end of ver. 10. And then, gra∣dually, discovers his better hope; bewrayes his Faith, as it were obliquely, touching this point; lets it breaking out, first, in some ob∣scure glimmerings, ver. 11, 12. giving us in his Protasis, a similitude not fully expressive of his seeming meaning, for waters, and flouds, that fail may be renewed; and in his Apodosis more openly intimating mans sleep, should be only till the heavens were no more. Which [till] might be supposed to signi••ie [never] were it not for what follows, ver. 13. where he ex∣presly speaks his confidence by way of petition,

that at a set and appointed time, God would remem∣ber him, so as to recall him out of the Grave, and at last being now minded to speak out more fully▪ puts the question to himself, if a man dye, shall he live again? and answers it; all the dayes of my appointed time (i. e. of that appoint∣ed time which he mention'd before, when God should revive him out of the dust) will I wait till my change come, i. e. that glorious change, when the corruption of a loathsome grave, should be exchang'd for immortal glory, which he amplifies, and utters more expresly, ver. 15. Thou shalt call, and I will answer, thou shalt have a desire to the work ••f thy hands. Thou wilt not always forget to restore, and perfect thy own creature.

And surely that waiting is not the act of his inanimate, sleeping dust, but, though it be spo∣ken of the person totally gone into H••des, into the invisible state; 'tis to be understood of that part, that should be capable of such an action, q. d. I, in that part, that shall be still alive, shall patiently await thy appointed time of reviving me in that part also, which Death, and the Grave shall insult over (in a temporary triumph) in the mean time; And so will the words carry a facile, commodious sense, with∣out the unnecessary help of an imagined Rhe∣torical Scheme of Speech. And then, that this waiting carries in it a desirous expectation of some additional good, is evident at ••irst sight, which therefore must needs add to the satisfa∣ction and blessedness, of the expecting soul. And wherein it may do so, is not altogether

unapprehensible. Admit that a Spirit, had it never been imbodied, might be as well with∣out a body, or that it might be as well pro∣vided of a body out of other materials; 'tis no unreasonable supposition, that a connate ap∣titude to a body, should render humane souls more happy in a body sufficiently attempered to their most noble operations. And how much doth relation and propriety endear things, otherwise mean▪ and inconsiderable? or why should it be thought strange, that a soul connaturallized t•• matter should be more particularly inclined to a particular portion thereof? So as that it should appropriate such a part, and say 'tis mine▪ And will it not be a pleasure to have a vitalit•• diffused through what even more remotely ap∣pertains to me, to have every thing belonging to the Supposition perfectly vindicated from the Tyrannous dominion of death? The return••ing of the Spirits into a benumb'd or sleeping toe or finger, adds a contentment to a ma•• which he wanted before. Nor is it hence ne••cessary the Soul should covet a re-union wi•••• every effluvious particle of its former body. A desire implanted by God in a reasonable soul will aim at what is convenient, not wh•• shall be cumbersome, or monstrous.

And how pleasant will it be to comtemplat•• and admire the wisdom and power of th•• great Creatour in this so glorious a change when I shall find a Clod of Earth, an Hea•• of D••st refined into a Celestial purity an•• brightness; when what was sown in corrupti•••• shall be raised in incorruption; what was sown 〈◊〉〈◊〉

dishonour,* 1.30 is raised in glory; what was sown in weakness, is raised in power; what was sown a natural body, is raised a Spiritual body. When this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal an immortality; and death be whol∣ly swallowed up in victory. So that this awaking may well be understood to carry that in it, which may bespeak it the proper season of the Saints consummate satisfaction and blessedness. But besides what it carries in it self: there are other (more extrinsical) concurrents that do further signalize this season, and import a great increase of blessedness, then to Gods holy ones.

The body of Christ is now compleated, the fulness of him, that filleth all in all, and all the so nearly related parts cannot but partake in perfection, and reflected glory of the whole. There is joy in Heaven at the conversion of one sinner; though he have a troublesome Scene yet to pass over; afterwards, in a tempt∣ing, wicked, unquiet world, how much more when the many sons shall be all brought to glory together?

The designes are all now accomplished, and wound up into the most glorious result and issue; whereof the Divine Providence had been, as in travel, for so many thousand years. 'Tis now seen how exquisite wisdom govern'd the world, and how steady a tendency the most intricate, and perplexed Methods of Providence had, to one stated and most wor∣thy end.

Specially the constitution, administration,

and ends of the Mediatours Kingdom, are now beheld, in the exact aptitudes, order, and conspicuous glory; when so blessed an issue and success shall commend, and crown the whole undertaking.

The Divine Authority is now universally acknowledged, and adored; his Justice is vindicated, and satisfied; his Grace demonstrated and magnified to the utter∣most. The whole assembly of Saints so∣lemnly acquitted by publique sentence, presented spotless, and without blemish to God, and adjudged to eternal blessed∣ness. 'Tis the day of solemn triumph, and jubilation, upon the finishing of all Gods works, from the creation of the world, where∣in the Lord Jesus appears to be glorified in his Saints,* 1.31 and admired in all that believe: Upon which ensues the resignation of the Mediatours Kingdome (all the ends being now attained) that the Father ••im∣self may be immediately all in all.* 1.32 How aptly then are the fuller manifestations of God, the more glorious display of all his Attributes, the larger and more a∣bundant Effusions of himself, reserv'd, (as the best Wine to the last) unto this joyful day? Created perfections couldnot have been before so absolute, but they might admit of improvement; Their ca∣pacities not so large, but they might be extended further; and then who can doubt but that divine communications

may also have a proportionable increase, and that upon the concourse of so ma∣ny great occasions they shall have so?

Notes

• * 1.1

  Matth. 5. 6.
• * 1.2

  1 Thes. 5▪ 6.
• * 1.3

  Ephes 5. 14.
• * 1.4

  So well doth the Apostles watchword suit our case, awake to righ∣teousness and sin not, &c.
• * 1.5

  1 Cor. 15▪ 34.
• * 1.6

  Cant. 5 2.
• * 1.7

  Psal. 39 6.
• * 1.8

  Viz. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Who at the time of his death sprink∣led water up∣on the ser∣vants about him, addita vo••e se liquorem ill••m libare Jo∣••i l••beratori. Tacit▪ Annal.
• * 1.9

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• * 1.10

  In Phaedro.
• * 1.11

  Cant. 6. 12▪
• * 1.12

  Rom. 13 11.
• * 1.13

  Arelius▪ Beza, &c.
• * 1.14

  Psal. 30. 5.
• * 1.15

  In his Saints rest, p. 2. c. 10▪
• * 1.16

  Luke 23. 43.
• * 1.17

  2 Cor. 5 8.
• * 1.18

  Phil. 1. 23.
• * 1.19

  Heb. 12. 23.
• * 1.20

  'Tis true that divers of the Fathers, and others, have spoken some dubiously, some very di∣minishingly, of the blessedness of separate souls; many of whose words may be seen together in that elaborate Tractate of the learned Parker, de descens. lib sec••n•• p. 77. Yea, and his own assertion in that very page (be it spoken with reverence to the memory of so worthy a person) argues some∣thing gross, and I con∣ceive, un∣warrantable thoughts of the souls de∣pendance on a body of Earth. His words are, Tertium vulnus (speak∣ing of the prejudices the Soul receives by its separation from the body) omnes operationes etiam suas quae sunt praesertim ad ex∣tra extinguit. Where he makes it a difficulty to allow it any operati∣ons at all, as apears by the praesertim inserted. He first indeed denies it all operations, and then more confidently, and especially those ad extra. And if he would be understood to exclude it only from its operations ad extra (if he take operations ad extra, as that Phrase is wont to be taken) he must then mean by it all such operations as have their ob∣jects; not only those that have their terms to which without the Agent, i. e. not only all transient, but all immanent acts that have their object, without them. As when we say, all Gods acts ad extra are free; we mean it even of his immanent acts that have their ob∣jects without him, though they do not po••••re terminum extra deum: as his election, his love of the elect. And so he must be understood to deny the separate souls (and that with a praesertim too) the operati∣ons of knowing God, of loving him, and delighting in him; which are all operations ad extra, as having their objects extra animam, though their terminus ad qu••m be not so; which makes the condition of the se∣parate souls of Saints unspeakably inferiour to what it was in the bo∣dy, and what should occasion to dismal thoughts of that state of sepa∣ration, I see not. Scripture gives no ground for them, but evidently enough speaks the contrary. Reason and Phylosophy offers nothing that can ••ender the sense we put upon the forementioned plain Scrip∣tures, self contrad••ctions or impossible. Yea such as had no other light, or guide have thought the facility of the souls operations, be∣ing separate from its earthly body, much greater by that very separa∣tion. And upon this score doth Saint Augustine, with great indigna∣tion inveigh against the P••ilosophers (Pla••o more especially) be∣cause they judg'd the separation of the Soul from the body necessary to its blessedness. [Quia videlicct ejus perfect••m beatitudinem tunc illi fieri ex••stim••at cum omni prorsus corpore exuta, ad Deum s••n•• lex, & sol•• & quodommodo nuda redierit. De civit. Dei l. 13 c. 16.] unto which pur∣pose the words of Philol••us Pyth••goricus, of Plato, of Porphyrius are cited by Ludo∣vicus vives in his Comment upon that bovementi∣oned passage. The first speaking thus—Deposito corpore hominem Deum immortalem fieri. The second thus,—Trahi nos, à corpore, ad ima, & à cogitatione superarum rerum subinde revocari: ideo relinquendum corpus, & hîc quantum pos∣sumus, & in alterâ vitâ vitâ prorsum, ut liberi, & expediti verum ipsi videamus, & optimum amemus. The third denies—Aliter fieri b••atum quenquam posse, nisi relinquat corpus & affigatur Deo. I conceive it by the way not improbable, that the severity of that Pious Father a∣gainst that Dogma of the Philosophers, might proceed upon this ground, that what they said of the impossibilitie of being happy in an earthly body, he understood meant by them of an impossibilitie to be happy in any body at all; when 'tis evidently the common opinion of the Platonists, that the soul is alwayes united with some body or other; and that even the Dae••o••s have bodies (aereal or etherial ones) which Plato himself is observed by St. Augustine to affirm whence he would fasten a contradiction on him, ibid. not considering ('tis likely) that he would much less have made a difficultie to con∣cede such bodies also to humane souls, after they had lost their ter∣restial ones; as his sectators do not, who hold they then presently become Daemons.

  In the mean time 'tis evident enough the doctrine of the separate souls present blessedness is not destitute of the patronage and suffrage of Philosophers. And 'tis indeed the known opinion of as many of them as ever held its immortality (which all of all Ages and nations have done, a very few excepted, for in as much as they knew nothing of the resurrection of the bodie, they could not dream of a sl••epi••g in∣terval.

  And 'tis, at least, a shrewd presumption that nothing in reason lies against it, when no one instance can be given among them that professedly, gave up themselves to its only guidance, of any one that, granting the immortality of the soul, and its separableness f••om its terrestrial body, ever denied the immediate blessedness of good souls in that state of separation. Nor (if we look into the thing it self) is it at all more unapprehensible that the soul should be indepen∣dent on the body in its operations then in its exist 〈◊〉〈◊〉?

  If it be pos∣sible enough to form an unexception∣able notion of a spiritual being, distinct, and separable from any corporeal substance (which the learned Doctor More hath sufficiently demonstrated in his Treatise of the immortalitie of the Soul) with its proper attributes, and powers peculiar to it self; what can reasonablely with-hold me from assenting, that, being separate from the body, it may as well operate alone (I mean exert such operations as are p••oper to such a being) as exist alone? That we find it here, de facto, in its present state, acting only with dependence on a bodie, will no more infer that it can act no otherwise, then its present existence in a body will, that it can ne∣ver exist out of it neither whereof amounts to more then the trifling exploded argument à non esse ad non posse, and would be as good sense as to say such a one walks in his clothes: therefore out of them he can∣not move a foot.

  Yea and the very use it self, which the soul now makes of corporeal organs, and instruments, plainlie ••vinces that it doth exert some action, wherein they assist it not. For it supposes an operation upon them, antecedent to any operation by them. Nothing can be the in∣strument which is not first the subject of my action; as when I use a pen, I act upon, in order to my acting by it, i. e. I impress a motion upon it in order whereunto I use not that, or any other such instru∣ment; And, though I cannot produce the designed effect, leave such characters so and so figured without it, my hand can yet, without it, perform its own action, proper to it self, and produce many nobler effects. When therefore the soul makes use of a bodily organ; its action upon it, must needs, at last, ••e without the ministry of any or∣gan, unless you multiply to it bodie upon bodie in infini••um.

  And if possibly it perform not some meaner, and grosser pieces of drudgerie; when out of the body, wherein it made use of its help, and service before; that is no mo••e a disparagement, or dimunution; then its to the Magistrate, that law and decency permit him not to ap∣prehend, or execute a Malefactor with his own hand. It may yet per∣form those operations, which are proper to it self; that is, such as are more noble, and excellent, and immediately conducive to its own felicitie.

  Which sort of actions, as Cogitation, for instance, and Dilection, though, being done in the body, there is conjunct with them an agitation of the Spirits in the brain and heart; It yet seems to me more reasonable, that, as to those acts, the Spirits are rather subjects then instruments at all of them, that the whole essence of these Acts is antecedent to the motion of the Spirits; and that motion certainly (but accidentally) consequent, only by reason of the pre∣sent, but soluble union the soul hath with the body. And that the pu∣rity and refinedness of those Spirits doth only remove what would hin∣der such acts, rather than contribute positively thereto. And so little is the alliance between a thought, and any bodily thing, even those very finest Spirits themselves; that I dare say whoever sets himself closely and strictly to consider, and debate the matter with his own faculties, will find it much more easily apprehensible, how the acts of intellection, and volition may be performed without those very corporeal Spirits then by them. However suppose them never so in∣dispensably necessarie to those more noble operations of the soul, it may easilie be furnisht with them, and in greater plentie, and puri∣tie from the ambient aire (or aether) than from a dull torpid body; with some part of which air, if we suppose it to contract a vital union; I know no rational principle that is wronged by the supposition (though neither do I know any that can necessarily infer it.)

  As therefore the doctrine of the souls activitie out of this earthly bo∣dy, hath favour and friendship enough from Philosophers; so I doubt not but upon the most strict and rigid disquisition, it would be as m••ch befriended (or rather righted) by Philosophie it self; And that their reason would afford it as direct, and more considerable defence then their Authority.

  In the mean time, it deserves to be considered with some resent∣ment, that this Doctrine should find the generality of Learned Pa∣gans more forward Advocates, then some learned, and worthy Pa∣trons of the Christian Faith; which is only imputable to the undue measure and excess of an otherwise j••st, zeal, in th••se latter, for the resurrection of the body, so far transporting them, that they became willing to let go one Truth, that they might hold 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the ••••ster; and to ransome this, at the too deare (and unnecessary) expence of the former. Accounting they could never make sure enough the re∣surrection of the bodie; without making the souls dependence on it so absolute, and necessarie, that it should be able to do nothing but sleep in the mean while. Whereas it seems a great deal more uncon∣ceiveable, how such a being as the soul is, once quit of the entangle∣ments and encumbrances of the body, should sleep at all, then how it should act without the body.
• * 1.21

  See Dr. Hammonds annot. in loc.
• * 1.22

  Dan 12 2
• * 1.23

  Joh. 14 12.
• * 1.24

  2 Cor. 15.
• * 1.25

  2 Thes. 4. &c.
• * 1.26

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• * 1.27

  Phil 3. 20, 21.
• * 1.28

  1 Thes. 4. 14, 15▪ 16.
• * 1.29

  Chap. 14. 14.
• * 1.30

  1 Cor. 15.
• * 1.31

  2 Thes 1.
• * 1.32

  1 Cor. 15.