THE

BLESSEDNESS OF THE RIGHTEOUS.

A TREATISE

ON PSALM 17: 15.

When he shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is, 1. John 3. 2.

VOL. I.

Αλλὰ τὰ κακὰ οὐ δυνατὸν ἐν θεοῖς ἵδρυσθαι· τὴν δὲ θνητὴν φύσιν, και τόνδε τὸν τόπον περιπολεῖ ἐξ ἀνάγκης. Διὸ καὶ πείρασθαι χρὴ ἐνθένδε ἐκεῖσε φεύγειν ὅτι τά χισα. Φυγὴ δὲ ὁμοίωσις θεῷ κατὰ τὸ δυνατὸν, ὁμοίωσις δὲ δικαιὸν καὶ ὁσιόν με τὰ φρονησέως γένεσθαι.

It is impossible that vice should find a place in the abode of the Gods; but it necessarily adheres to a mortal nature, and to the present world. It is therefore our duty to shun it with the utmost eagerness, or, in other words to seek the highest possible resemblance to God, which resemblance consists in rectitude, holiness and wisdom. Plat. in Theæt.

TO THE READER.

I am not at all solicitous, that the world should know the history of the conception of this treatise. If there be any thing that shall recompense the pains of such as may think fit to give themselves the trouble of perusing it, in the work itself, I should yet think it too much an undervaluing of them, if I did reckon the minuter circumstances relating thereto, fit for their entertainment. Nor am I more concerned to have it known what were the inducements to the publication of it. Earnest protestations and remonstrations of our good intentions in such undertakings, as they leave men still at liberty to believe or doubt at their pleasure; so they gain us little if they be believed. It is no easy matter, to carry one even, constant tenor of spirit through a work of time. Nor is it more easy to pass a settled invariable judgment concerning so variable a subject; when a heart that may seem wholly framed and set for God this hour, shall look so quite like another thing the next, and change figures and postures almost as often as it doth thoughts. And if a man should be mistaken in judging himself, it would little mend the matter, to have deceived others also into the opinion of him. But if he can approve himself to God in the simplicity of an honest and undeceived heart, the peace that ensues, is a secret between God and him. They are theatre enough to one another, as he (Seneca) said to his friend. It is an inclosed pleasure a joy which the stranger cannot intermeddle with.

This

It is therefore any man's concernment herein rather to satisfy himself than the world. And the world's rather to understand the design of the work than the author's; and whither it tends, rather than whereto he meant it. And it is obvious enough, to what good purposes discourses of this nature may serve. is, in the design of it, wholly practical; hath little or nothing to do with disputation. If there be any whose business it is to promote a private, divided interest; or who place the sum of their religion in an inconsiderable and doubtful opinion; it doth not

unhallow their altars, nor offer any affront to their idol. It intends no quarrel to any contending, angry party: but deals upon things in the substance whereof christians are at a professed agreement. And hath therefore the greater probability of doing good to some, without the offence of any. It is indeed equally matter of complaint and wonder, that men can find so much leisure to divert from such things, wherein there is so much both of importance and pleasure, unto (what one would think should have little of temptation or allurement in it) contentious jangling. It might rather be thought its visible fruits and tendencies should render it the most dreadful thing to every serious beholder. What tragedies hath it wrought in the Christian church! Into how weak and languishing a condition hath it brought the religion of professed Christians! Hence have risen the intemperate, preternatural heats and angers that have spent its strength and spirits, and make it look with so meagre and pale a face. We have had a greater mind to dispute than live; and to contend about what we know not, than to practice the far greater things we know; and which more directly tend to nourish and maintain the divine life. The author of that ingenious sentence, pruritus disputandi scabies Ecclesia, the itch of disputing is the distemper of the church, (whoever he were) hath fitly expressed what is the noisome product of the itch of disputing. It hath begot the ulcerous tumors, which, besides their own offensive soreness, drain the body, and turn what should nourish that into nutriment to themselves. And its effects are not more grievous than the pleasures which it effects and pursues are uncouth and unnatural: ut ulcera quædam nocituras manus appetunt et tactu gaudent, et fædam corporum scabiem delectat quicquid exasperat: Non aliter dixerim his mentibus in quas voluptates, velut mala ulcera eruperunt, voluptati esse laborem, vexationemque: as ulcers of a rough kind invite and are pleased with the touch of a rough and injurious hand, and as that only gratifies which irritates a body covered over with a loathsome eruption, so to those minds which are afflicted with the noxious ulcer of forbidden pleasure, labor and vexation are the only delight. Sen de tranquillitate animi. That only pleases which exasperates, (as the moralist aptly expresses some like disaffection of diseased minds.) What to a sound spirit would be a pain, is to these a pleasure.

Which is, indeed, the triumph of the disease, that it adds unto torment, reproach and mockery, and imposes upon men by so ridiculous a delusion (while they are made to take pleasure in punishing themselves) that even the most sober can scarce look on in a fitter posture, than with a compassionate smile. All which were yet somewhat more tolerable, if that imagined, vanishing pleasure were not the whole of their gain; or if it were to be hoped, that so great a present real pain and smart, should

be recompensed with as real a consequent fruit and advantage. But we know, that generally by how much any thing is more disputable, the less it is necessary or conducible to the Christian life. God hath graciously provided that what we are to live by, should not cost us so dear. And possibly, as there is less occasion of disputing about the more momentous things of religion; so there may be somewhat more of modesty and awe in reference to what is so confessedly venerable and sacred, (though too many are over bold even here also) than so foolishly to trifle with such things. Therefore more commonly, where that humor prevails, men divert from those plainer things, with some slighter and superficial reverence to them, but more heartily esteeming them jejune, because they have less in them to gratify that appetite, and betake themselves to such things about which they may more plausibly contend; and then, what pitiful trifles oftentimes take up their time and thoughts; questions and problems of like weighty importance, very often, with those which, the abovenamed author (Sen. de Brev. vit.) tells us, this disease among the Greeks prompted them to trouble themselves about, as, "What number of rowers Ulysses had? which was written first, the Iliad or the Odysses, &c.? So that (as he saith) they spent their lives very operously doing nothing. Their conceits being such, that if they kept them to themselves, they could yield them no fruit; and if they publish them to others, they should not seem thereby the more learned, but the more troublesome":-to this purpose he truly speaks. And is it not to be resented, that men should sell away the solid strength and vital joy which a serious soul would find in substantial religion, for such toys! Yea, and not only famish themselves but trouble the world, and embroil the church with their impertinences! If a man be drawn forth to defend an important truth against an injurious assault, it were treacherous self-love to purchase his own peace by declining it. Or if he did sometimes turn his thoughts to some of our petty questions, that with many are so hotly agitated, for recreationsake, or to try his wit and exercise his reason, without stirring his passions to the disturbance of others or himself; it were an innocent divertisement, and the best purpose that things of that nature are capable of serving. But when contention becomes a man's element, and he cannot live out of that fire, strains his wit and racks his invention to find matter of quarrel; is resolved, nothing said or done by others shall please him, only because he means to please himself in dissenting; disputes only that he may dispute, and loves dissension for itself: this is the unnatural humor that hath so unspeakably troubled the church, and dispirited religion, and filled men's souls with wind and vanity; yea, with fire and fury. This hath made Christians gladiators, and the Christian world a clamorous theatre, while men have equally affected to contend, and to make ostentation of their ability so to do.