Chapter 8: The Satisfaction of God's Glory Impressed — Further Instances

The satisfaction carried in the glory of God impressed, further shown by instances. Certain particulars of this impression instanced in. A dependent frame of Spirit. Subjection, or self-devoting, Love, Purity, Liberty, Tranquility.

But besides the general consideration of this likeness, we shall instance in some of the particular excellencies comprehended in it. Wherein the blessed shall imitate, and resemble God. From which we may further estimate the pleasure and satisfaction that being like God will afford. Only here let it be remembered, that as we all along in this discourse, speak of likeness to God in respect of moral excellencies; so by likeness to him in respect of those we understand not only a participation of those which are communicable; but a correspondent impression also, as to those that are incommunicable, as has been more distinctly opened, in the Propositions concerning this likeness: Which being premised I shall give instances of both kinds, to discover somewhat of the inexpressible pleasure of being thus conformed to God.

And here, passing over the impression of knowledge, of which we have spoken under the former head of vision, we shall instance.

1. In a dependent frame of Spirit; which is the proper impress of the divine all-sufficiency, and self-fullness duly apprehended by the blessed soul. It is not easy to conceive a higher pleasure, than this, competible to a creature, the pleasure of dependence. Indeed this is a higher than we can conceive. Dependence (which speaks the creature's [illegible] or habitude to its principle as the subserviency which imparts its habitude to its end, is twofold.

1. Natural, which is common and essential to all creatures; even when no such thing is thought on, or considered by them. The creatures live, move, and have their beings in God whether they think of it or no.

2. Voluntary or rational, which is de facto, appropriate; and de jure; common to reasonable creatures as such. A dependence that is, [illegible] elective, and with a foregoing reason, (which I understand by elective, not a liberty of doing or not doing it) and concomitant consideration of what we do, and reflection on our own act, when knowingly and willingly, understanding ourselves in what we do, we go out of ourselves and live in God. This is the dependence of which I speak. And it cannot but be attended with transcendent pleasure in that other state, when that knowledge and reflection shall be clear and perfect. Both, as this dependence imports.

Nullifying of self. Magnifying (I may call it omnifying) of God, a making him all in all.

As it imports (which it does most evidently) a self-annihilation. A pure nullifying of self. It is a continual recognition of my own nothingness. A momentary, iterated confession, that my whole being is nothing but a mere puff of precarious breath, a bubble raised from nothing by the arbitrary [reconstructed: fiat] of the great Creator, reducible, had he so pleased, any moment to nothing again. These are true and just acknowledgments; and to a well-tempered soul infinitely pleasant, when the state of the [reconstructed: case] is thoroughly understood (as now it is) and it has the apprehension clear, how the creation is sustained, how, and upon what terms its own being, life, and blessedness are continued to it; that it is, by its self, nothing, and that it is every moment determinable upon the constancy of the Creator's will, that it is not simply nothing. It is not possible that any thing should hinder this consideration from being eternally delightful; but that diabolical, uncreaturely pride, that is long since banished Heaven, and banished its very subjects from there also. Nothing can suit that temper but to be a God; to be wholly independent; to be its own sufficiency. The thoughts of living at the will and pleasure of another, are grating; but they are only grating to a proud heart, which here has no place. A soul naturalized to humiliations, accustomed to prostrations, and self-abasements, trained up in acts of mortification, and that was brought to glory, through a continued course, and series of self-denial: that ever since it first came to know itself was wont to depend for every moment's breath, for every glimpse of light, for every fresh influence (I live yet not I —) with what pleasure does it now as it were vanish before the Lord! What delight does it take to diminish itself; and as it were disappear to contract and shrivel up itself; to shrink even into a point, into a nothing, in the presence of the divine glory, that it may be all in all. Things are now pleasant (to the soul, in its right mind) as they are suitable; as they carry a comeliness and congruity in them. And nothing now appears more becoming, than such a self-annihilation. The distances of Creator and Creature, of Infinite and Finite, of a necessary and arbitrary being, of a self-originated and a derived being of what was from [reconstructed: everlasting], and what had a beginning, are now better understood than ever. And the soul by how much it is now come nearer to God, is more apprehensive of its distance. And such a frame, and posture does hence please it best, as does most fitly correspond thereto. Nothing is so pleasing to it as to be as it ought. That temper is most grateful that is most proper, and which best agrees with its state. Dependence therefore is greatly pleasing, as it is a self-nullifying thing. And yet it is, in this respect, pleasing, but as a means to a further end. The pleasure that attends it is higher and more intense, according as it more immediately attains that end, namely.

The magnifying and exalting of God; which is the most connatural thing to the holy soul. The most fundamental and deeply impressed law of the New Creature. Self gives place that God may take it, becomes nothing, that he may be all. It vanishes, that his glory may shine the brighter.

Dependence gives God his power and glory. It is the peculiar honor and prerogative of a Deity, to have a world of creatures hanging upon it, staying themselves upon it: to be the fulcrum, the center of a lapsing creation. When this dependence is voluntary and intelligent, it carries in it a more explicit owning acknowledgment of God. By how much more this is the distinct and actual sense of my soul: Lord, I cannot live but by you, so much the more openly and plainly do I speak it out, Lord, you are God alone, you are the fullness of life and being, the only root and spring of life, The Everlasting I Am. The being of beings.

How unspeakably pleasant to a holy soul will such a perpetual agnition or acknowledgment of God be, when the perpetuation of its being shall be nothing else than a perpetuation of this acknowledgment; when every renewed aspiration, every motion, every pulse of the glorified soul shall be but a repetition of it, when it shall find itself in the eternity of life, that everlasting state of life which it now possesses, to be nothing else than an everlasting testimony that God is God: He is so, for I am, I live, I act, I have the power to love him; none of which could otherwise [reconstructed: be]. When among the innumerable myriads of the heavenly host, this shall be the mutual alternate testimony of each to all the rest, throughout eternity — will not this be pleasant? When each shall feel continually the fresh illapses and incomes of God, the power and sweetness of divine influences, the enlivening vigor of that vital breath, and find in themselves, thus we live and are sustained: and are yet as secure, touching the continuance of this state of life, as if every one were a God to himself; and did each one possess an entire Godhead. When their sensible dependence on him, in their glorified state, shall be his perpetual triumph over all the imaginary deities, the fancied Numina, with which he was heretofore provoked to jealousy: And he shall now have no rival left, but be acknowledged and known to be all in all. How pleasant will it then be, as it were to lose themselves in him! and to be swallowed up in the overcoming sense of his boundless, all-sufficient, everywhere flowing fullness!

And then add to this; they do by this dependence actually make this fullness of God their own. They are now met in one common principle of life and blessedness, that is sufficient for them all. They no longer live a life of care, are perpetually exempt from solicitous thoughts which here they could not perfectly attain to in their earthly state. They have nothing to do but to depend, to live upon a present self-sufficient good, which alone is enough to replenish all desires; else it were not self-sufficient. How can we divide in our most abstractive thoughts, the highest pleasure, the fullest satisfaction from this dependence! It is to live at the rate of a God; a God-like life. A living upon immense fullness, as he lives.

2. Subjection; which I place next to dependence, as being of the same alloy. The product of impressed Sovereignty; as the other, of all-sufficient fullness: Both, impressions upon the creature, corresponding to something in God, most incommunicably appropriate to him.

This is the soul's real and practical acknowledgment of the Supreme Majesty: Its homage to its Maker: Its self-dedication: Than which nothing more suits the state of a creature, or the Spirit of a Saint. And as it is suitable, it is pleasant. It is that by which the blessed soul becomes, in its own sense, a consecrated thing, a devoted thing, sacred to God: Its very life and whole being referred and made over to him. With what delightful relishes, what sweet gusts of pleasure is this done! while the soul tastes its own act; approves it with a full ungainsaying judgment; apprehends the condignity and fitness of it, assents to itself herein; and has the ready suffrage, the harmonious concurrence of all his powers. When the words are no sooner spoken, "Worthy are you, O Lord, to receive glory, honor, and power, for you have created all things, and for your pleasure they are, and were created;" but they are resounded from the penetralia, the inmost bowels, the most intimate receptacles, and secret chambers of the soul. O Lord, you are worthy; worthy, that I, and all things should be to you; worthy to be the Omega, as you are the Alpha, the last, as you are the first; the end, as you are the beginning of all things; the ocean into which all being shall flow; as the fountain from which it sprang. My whole self, and all my powers, the excellencies now implanted in my being, the privileges of my now glorified state, are all worth nothing to me but for you, please me only, as they make me fitter for you. O the pleasure of these sentiments, the joy of such raptures! when the soul shall have no other notion of itself, than of an everlasting sacrifice, always ascending to God in its own flames.

For this devotedness, and subjection speak not barely, an act, but a state. A being to the praise of grace. A living to God. And it is no mean pleasure that the sincere soul finds in the imperfect beginnings, the first essays of this life; the initial breathings of such a spirit, its entrance into this blessed state; when it makes the first tender, and present of itself to God (as the Apostle expresses it) when it first begins to esteem itself a hallowed thing; separate, and set apart for God. Its first act of unfeigned self-resignation; when it tells God from the very heart, I now give up myself to you to be yours. Never was marriage covenant made with such pleasure, with so complacential consent. This quitting claim to ourselves, parting with ourselves upon such terms, to be the Lord's forever: O the peace, the rest, the acquiescence of spirit that attends it! When the poor soul that was weary of itself, knew not what to do with itself, has now on the sudden found this way of disposing itself to such an advantage! There is pleasure in this treaty. Even the previous breakings and relentings of the soul towards God are pleasant. But, O the pleasure of consent! Of yielding ourselves to God, as the Apostle's expression is: when the soul is overcome, and cries out, Lord, now I resign, I yield, possess now your own right, I give up myself to you. That yielding is subjection, self-devoting; in order to future service, and obedience. (To whom you yield yourselves servants to obey, etc.) And never did any man enroll himself, as a servant, to the greatest prince on earth, with such joy. What pleasure is there in the often iterated recognition of these transactions: in multiplying such bonds upon a man's own soul (though done faintly, while the fear of breaking, checks its joy in taking them on.) When in the uttering of these words, I am your servant, O Lord, your servant, the son of your handmaid; (that is, your born servant, alluding to that custom and law among the Jews.) Your servant devoted to your fear, a man finds they fit his spirit, and are aptly expressive of the true sense of his soul; is it not a grateful thing? And how pleasant is a state of life consequent and agreeable to such transactions and covenants with God! When it is meat and drink to do his will. When his zeal eats a man up; and one shall find himself secretly consuming for God! And the vigor of his soul exhaled in his service! Is it not a pleasant thing so to spend and be spent? When one can in a measure find that his will is one with God's, transformed into the divine will; that there is but one common will, and interest, and end between him and us; and so that in serving God, we reign with him; in spending ourselves for him, we are perfected in him. Is not this a pleasant life? Some heathens have spoken at such a rate of this kind of life as might make us wonder, and blush. One speaking of a virtuous person; says, he is as a good soldier that bears wounds, and numbers scars, and at last, smitten through with darts, dying, will love the emperor, for whom he falls; he will (says he) keep in mind that ancient precept, follow God. But they that complain, cry out and groan, and are compelled by force to do his commands, and hurried into them against their will, and what a madness is it (says he) to be drawn rather than follow? And presently after subjoins, we are born in a kingdom; to obey God is liberty. The same person writes in a letter to a friend: If you believe me when I most freely discover to you the most secret fixed being of my soul, in all things my mind is thus formed: I obey not God so properly as I assent to him. I follow him with all my heart, not because I cannot avoid it. And another, Lead me to whatever I am appointed, and I will follow you cheerfully, but if I refuse, or be unwilling, I shall follow notwithstanding.

A soul cast into such a mold, formed into an obediential subject frame, what sweet peace does it enjoy! How pleasant rest! Every thing rests most composedly in its proper place. A bone out of joint knows no ease, nor lets the body enjoy any. The creature is not in its place but when it is thus subject, is in this subordination to God. By flying out of this subordination the world of mankind has become one great disjointed body; full of weary tossings, unacquainted with ease, or rest. That soul that is but in a degree reduced to that blessed state and temper, is as it were in a new world; so great, and happy a change does it now feel in itself. But when this transformation shall be completed in it; and the will of God shall be no sooner known than rested in with a complacential approbation; and every motion of the first and great mover shall be an efficacious law to guide and determine all our motions: and the lesser wheels shall presently run at the first impulse of the great and master-wheel, without the least rub or hesitation; when the law of sin shall no longer check the law of God; when all the contentions of a rebellious flesh; all the counter-strivings of a perverse, ungovernable heart, shall cease forever; O unconceivable blessedness of this consent, the pleasure of this joyful harmony, this peaceful accord!

Obedience, where it is due but from one creature to another, carries no small advantages with it, and conduciveness to a pleasant, unsolicitous life. To be particularly prescribed to, in things about which our minds would otherwise be tossed with various apprehensions, anxious, uncertain thoughts — how great a privilege is it! I cannot forget a pertinent passage of an excellent person of recent memory. And (says he) for pleasure I shall profess myself so far from doting on that popular idol, liberty, that I hardly think it possible for any kind of obedience to be more painful than an unrestrained liberty. Were there not true bounds of magistrates, of laws, of piety, of reason in the heart, every man would have a fool — I add, a mad tyrant — to his master, that would multiply him more sorrows than briars and thorns did to Adam, when he was freed from the bliss at once and the restraint of Paradise; and was, surely, a greater slave in the wilderness than in the enclosure. Would but the Scripture permit me that kind of idolatry — the binding my faith and obedience to any one visible infallible judge or prince, were it the Pope, or the Mufti, or the grand Tartar — might it be reconcilable with my creed, it would be certainly with my interest to get presently into that posture of obedience. I should learn so much of the barbarian ambassadors in Appian, which came on purpose to the Romans to negotiate for leave to be their servants. It would be my policy, if not my piety, and may now be my wish, though not my faith, that I might never have the trouble to deliberate, to dispute, to doubt, to choose — those so many profitless uneasinesses — but only the favor to receive commands, and the meekness to obey them. How pleasurable then must obedience be to the perfect will of the blessed God, when our wills shall also be perfectly attuned and conformed to it! Therefore are we taught, 'Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.' What is most perfect in its kind gives rule to the rest.

3. Love. This is an eminent part of the image or likeness of God in his saints; as it is that great attribute of the divine being that is, alone, put to give us a notion of God. God is love. This is an excellency (consider it whether in its original, or copy) made up of pleasantnesses. All love has complacency or pleasure in the nature and most formal notion of it. To search for pleasure in love is the same thing as if a man should be solicitous to find water in the sea, or light in the body of the sun. Love to a friend is not without high pleasure, when especially he is actually present and enjoyed. Love to a saint rises higher in nobleness and pleasure, according to the more excellent qualification of its object. It is now in its highest improvement, in both these aspects of it, where whatever tends to gratify our nature, whether as human or holy, will be in its full perfection. Now does the soul take up its stated dwelling in love, even in God who is love; and as he is love, it is now enclosed with love, encompassed with love, and is conversant in the proper region and element of love. The love of God is now perfected in it: that love which is not only participated from him but terminated in him. That perfect love casts out tormenting fear. So that here is pleasure without mixture. How naturally will the blessed soul now dissolve and melt into pleasure! It is newly framed on purpose for love-embraces and enjoyments. It shall now love like God, as one composed of love. It shall no longer be its complaint and burden that it cannot retaliate in this kind; that, being beloved, it cannot love.

4. Purity. Herein also must the blessed soul resemble God and delight itself. Everyone that has this hope — namely, of being hereafter like God and seeing him as he is — purifies himself as he is pure. A God-like purity is intimately connected with the expectation of future blessedness, much more with the fruition. Blessed are the pure in heart; besides the reason there annexed (for they shall see God) — which is to be considered under the other head, the pleasure to which this likeness disposes — that proposition carries its own reason in itself. It is an incomparable pleasure that purity carries in its own nature; as sin has in its very nature — besides its consequent guilt and sorrow — trouble and torment beyond expression. Whatever defiles does also disturb. Nor do any but pure pleasures deserve the name. An Epicurus himself will tell us there cannot be pleasure without wisdom, honesty, and righteousness. It is least of all possible there should be, when once a person shall have a right knowledge of himself and of the filthiness of sin — which is the moral impurity of which we speak. I doubt not but much of the torment of hell will consist in those too-late and despairing self-loathings, those sickly resentments the impure wretches will be possessed with, when they see what hideous, deformed monsters their own wickedness has made them. Here the gratifications of sense that attend it bribe and seduce their judgments into another estimate of sin; but then it shall be no longer thought of under the more favorable notion of pleasure, and they shall taste nothing but the gall and wormwood.

It is certainly no improbable thing but that reason, being now so fully rectified and undeceived, with vizors torn off and things now appearing in their own likeness, so much will be seen and apprehended of the intrinsic evil and malignity of their vitiated natures as will serve for the matter of further torment. Yet such a sight can do no more to a change of their temper than the devil's faith does to theirs; such sights, being accompanied with their having no hope of ever attaining a better state, therefore in no way tend to mollify or soothe their spirits, but to increase their rage and torment.

It is however out of question, that the purity of heaven will infinitely enhance the pleasure of it; for it is more certain the intrinsic goodness of holiness (which term I need not among these instances, inasmuch as the thing admits not of one entire notion, but lies partly under this head, partly under the second, that of devotedness to God) will be fully understood in Heaven, than the intrinsic evil of sin in Hell: And when it is understood, will it not affect? Will it not please? Even here, how pleasing are things to the pure (but in degree so) that participate of the divine purity. Your word is very pure (says the Psalmist) therefore your servant loves it (Psalm 119:140). Under this notion do holy ones take pleasure each in other, because they see somewhat of the divine likeness, their Father's image, in one another; will it not be much more pleasing to find it each one perfect in himself? To feel the ease, and peace, and rest, that naturally goes with it. A man that has any love of cleanliness, if casually plunged into the mire, he knows not what to do with himself; he fancies his own clothes to abhor him (as Job rhetorically speaks) so does as natural a pleasure attend purity: it has it even in itself. The words of the pure (says the Wise Man) are pleasant words (Proverbs 15:26) — words of pleasantnesses it might be read. That pure breath that goes from him is not without a certain pleasurableness accompanying it. And if so to another, much more to himself, especially when every thing corresponds; and (as the expression is) he finds himself clear throughout.

5. Liberty (another part of the divine likeness, wherein we are to imitate God) cannot but be an unspeakable satisfaction. Supposing such a state of the notion of liberty as may render it really a perfection. Which otherwise it would be a wickedness to impute to God, and an impossibility to partake from him.

I here speak of the moral liberty of a Saint as such, not of the natural liberty of a man, as a man: and of the liberty consummate of Saints in glory; not of the inchoate, imperfect liberty of Saints on earth.

And therefore the intricate controversies about the liberty of the human will lie out of our way, and need not give us any trouble.

It is out of question that this liberty consists not (whatever may be said of any other) in an equal propensity to good or evil, nor in the will's independency on the practical understanding; nor in a various, uncertain mutability, or inconstancy; nor is it such as is opposed to all necessity, it is not a liberty from the government of God nor from a determination to the simply best, and most eligible objects.

But it is a liberty from the servitude of sin; from the seduction of a misguided judgment; and the allurement of any ensnaring, forbidden objects, consisting in an unbounded amplitude and enlargedness of soul toward God, an indetermination to any inferior good, resulting from an entire subjection to the divine will; a submission to the order of God; and steady adherence to him. And to which the many descriptions and eulogies agree most indisputably, which from sundry authors are gathered together by Gibieuf, in that ingenious treatise of Liberty.

As that he is free that lives as he will (from Cicero, insisted on by Saint Augustine, City of God, book 14, chapter 25) — that is, who neither wishes any thing, nor fears any thing; who in all things acquiesces in the will of God; who minds nothing but his own things, and accounts nothing his own but God, who savors nothing but God, who is moved only by the will of God.

Again; he is free, who cannot be hindered being willing, nor forced being unwilling (from Epictetus) — that is, who has always his will; as having perfectly subjected it to the will of God (as the same author explains himself).

Again; he is free that is master of himself (from the Cilicians) — that is, (as that liberty respects the spirit of a man) who has a mind independent on any thing foreign, and alien to himself.

That only follows God (from Philo Judaeus); that lives according to his own reason (from Aristotle); with many more of like import; that alone, does fully, and perfectly suit that state of liberty the blessed soul shall hereafter eternally enjoy; as that author often acknowledges.

This is the glorious liberty of the children of God. The liberty with which the Son makes free. Liberty indeed, measured, and regulated by the royal law of liberty, and which is perfected only in a perfect conformity thereto. There is a most servile liberty, a being free from righteousness, which, under that specious name and show, [reconstructed: enslaves] a man to corruption; and there is as free a service, by which a man is still the more free by how much the more he serves, and is subject to his superior's will, and governing influences: and by how much the less possible it is, he should swerve therefrom.

The nearest approaches therefore of the soul to God; its most intimate union with him, and entire subjection to him, in its glorified state, makes its liberty consummate. Now is its deliverance complete, its bands are fallen off, it is perfectly disentangled from all the snares of death, in which it was formerly held; it is under no restraints, oppressed by no weights, held down by no clogs. It has the free exercise of all its powers; has every faculty and affection at command. How inconceivable a pleasure is this! With what delight does the poor prisoner entertain himself, when his manacles and fetters are knocked off! When he is enlarged from his loathsome dungeon, and the house of his bondage, breathes in a free air! Can dispose of himself, and walk at liberty wherever he will. The bird escaped from his cage; or freed from his line, and stone, that resisted its ruin and too feeble struggles before, how pleasantly does it range, with what joy does it clap its wings, and take its flight! A faint emblem of the joy, with which that pleasant cheerful note shall, one day, be sung and chanted forth. Our soul is escaped, as a bird out of the snare of the Fowler, the snare is broken, and we are escaped. There is now no place for such a complaint. I would, but I cannot; I would turn my thoughts to glorious objects, but I cannot. The blessed soul feels itself free from all confinement; nothing resists its will; as its will does never resist the will of God. It knows no limits, no restraints; is not tied up to this or that particular good, but ranges freely, in the immense universal all-comprehending goodness of God himself.

And this liberty, is the perfect image and likeness of the liberty of God, especially, in its consummate state. In its progress towards it, it increases as the soul draws nearer to God: which nearer approach is not in respect of place, or local nearness, but likeness, and conformity to him; in respect of which, as God is most sublime and excellent in himself, so is it in him.

Its consummate liberty is; when it is so fully transformed into the likeness of God, as that he is all to it, as to himself. So that as he is an infinite satisfaction to himself; his likeness in this respect, is the very satisfaction itself, of the blessed soul.

6. Tranquility. This also is an eminent part of that assimilation to God, wherein the blessedness of the holy soul must be understood to lie: a perfect composure, a perpetual and everlasting calm, an eternal vacancy from all unquietness or perturbation. Nothing can be supposed more inseparably agreeing to the nature of God than this: Whom Scripture witnesses to be without variableness or shadow of change. There can be no commotion without mutation, nor can the least mutation have place in a perfectly simple, and uncompounded nature: from where even pagan reason has been accustomed to attribute the most undisturbed and unalterable tranquility to the nature of God. Balaam knew it was incompatible to him to lie, or repent. And (supposing him to speak this from a present inspiration) it is their common doctrine concerning God. Any the least troubles and tempests (says one) are far exiled from the tranquility of God for all the inhabitants of heaven do ever enjoy the same stable tenor, even an eternal quality of mind. And a little after speaking of God, says he, 'tis neither possible he should be moved by the force of another, for nothing is stronger than God; nor of his own accord, for nothing is more perfect than God.

And whereas there is somewhat that is mutable, and subject to change, somewhat that is stable and fixed, in which of those natures (says another) shall we please God; must we not in that which is more stable and fixed, and free from this fluidness and mutability? For what is there among all beings, that can be stable or consist, if God does not by his own touch, stay and sustain the nature of it?

Hence is it made a piece of deformity, of likeness to God, by another, who tells his friend; It is an high and great thing which you desire: and even bordering upon a deity, not to be moved.

Indeed, so has this doctrine been insisted on by them, that, (while other divine perfections have been less understood) it has occasioned the Stoical assertion of fatality, to be introduced, on the one hand, and the Epicurean negation of providence on the other; lest anything should be admitted that might seem repugnant to the tranquility of their Numen.

But we know that our God does whatever pleases him both in heaven and earth; and that he does all according to the wise counsel of his holy will; freely, not fatally upon the eternal prevision, and foresight of all circumstances and events, so that nothing can occur that is new to him; nothing that he knows not how to improve to good; or that can therefore infer any alteration of his counsels; or occasion to him the least perturbation, or disquiet in reference to them.

Holy souls begin, herein, to imitate him; as soon as they first give themselves up to his wise and gracious conduct. 'Tis enough that he is wise for himself and them. Their hearts safely trust in him. They commit themselves with unsolicitious confidence, to his guidance, knowing he cannot himself be misled, and that he will not mislead them. As Abraham followed him, not knowing where he went: and thus by faith, they enter into his rest.

They do, now, in their present state, only enter into it; or hover about the borders. Their future assimilation to God in this; gives them a stated settlement of spirit in this rest. They before did owe their tranquility to their faith, now to their actual fruition. Their former acquiescence, and sedate temper was hence, that they believed God would deal well with them at last; their present, for that he has done so. Those words have now their fullest sense (both as to the rest itself, which they mention; and the season of it) Return to your rest, oh my soul, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you (Psalm 116). The occasions of trouble, and a passive temper of spirit, are ceased together. There is now no fear without, nor terror within. The rage of the world is now allayed, it storms no longer. Reproach and persecution have found a period. There is no more dragging before tribunals, nor hauling into prisons; no more running into dens, and deserts; or wandering to and fro in sheepskins, and goatskins. And with the cessation of the external occasions of trouble, the inward dispositions thereto are also ceased: All infirmities of spirit, tumultuating passions, unmortified corruptions, doubts, or imperfect knowledge of the love of God, are altogether vanished and done away for ever.

And indeed, that perfect cure, wrought within, is the soul's great security, from all future disquiet. A well tempered spirit has been accustomed to strangely preserve its own peace in this unquiet world. Philosophy has boasted much in this kind; and Christianity performed more.

The philosophical calmness of mind, is not without its excellency and praise; that stable settlement and fixedness of spirit; that tranquility (as the moralist tells us it was accustomed to be termed among the Greeks, and which he calls Tranquility;) when the mind is always equal, and goes a smooth even course, is propitious to itself, and beholds the things that concern it with pleasure, and interrupts not this joy, but remains in a placid state, never at any time exalting or depressing itself. But how far does the Christian peace surpass it, that peace which passes all understanding; that amidst surrounding dangers enables the holy soul to say (without a proud boast) none of all these things move me. The peace that immediately results from that faith which unites the soul with God, and fixes it upon him as its firm basis; when 'tis kept in perfect peace, by being stayed upon him, because it trusts in him. When the heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord, filled full of joy, and peace, or of joyous peace, in believing.

And if Philosophy and (which far transcends it) Christianity, Reason and Faith have that static power, can so compose the soul and reduce it to so quiet a consistency, in the midst of storms and tempests: how perfect and contentful a repose, will the immediate vision, and enjoyment of God afford it, in that serene and peaceful region, where it shall dwell for ever, free from any molestation from without, or principle of dis-rest within!