can be a Christian, what am I to do in this case? must I unman myself, and lose the rights I have, as such, that I may recover them by being a Christian? I had them as a man before, sufficiently to secure me against the claim of all others. What! but not against Christians? Then are they an unmanned sort of men! And whereas obligations accompany rights, what lawless men are these Christians! But whereas God hath in great compassion to the world appointed it to be Christianized, he hath with equal wisdom chosen the fittest methods for it; i. e. not to commission Christians to divest other men of their all, unless they become Christians; but to let men see, Christianity had no design to disturb the world, or disquiet them in their former possessions, though they should not be Christians; but that they might enjoy them with higher advantage, if they be, in order to another world. If God had made Christianity the measure of civil rights to mankind, his sovereignty were not to be disputed; but he never exerts acts of sovereignty, but by the direction of his wisdom, Wheresoever the sound of the Christian name comes, if it carried that avowed principle with it, that Christians, as such, had a right to out all other men of their birth-rights; instead of becoming the religion of the world, nothing could more directly tend to engage and inflame all the world against it, and make them endeavour its utter extirpation, as a thing intolerable to mankind. Nor could they have any so plausible pretence against it besides; having nothing in itself, but what must render it most amiable and self-recommending. Did the Spaniards' methods for Christianizing America, recommend the Christian faith to that miserable people? And if God himself would never give such a power, for introducing the very substance of Christian religion itself; how intolerable must it be for any sort or church of Christians, to claim and use it for the introduction of their own additions to Christianity, as the church of Rome hath notoriously long done! And time will show the event, as common reason doth the tendency of it. And, Sir, though the strain of your discourse shows your no great kindness to this established church, the compliments which here and there you bestow upon it, too broadly show, as if, under a colour of kindness, you would tempt it, to aim at loading itself with such a weight of power and greatness as, you may think, must finally sink it. Its more real friends, our civil rulers, are more wisely kind to it, and give it no more interest in the civil government, than it may more safely bear. They never exact in order to any one's having a share therein, a total, constant conformity to all its rites, as you would have them. And have only designed by the limits they have set, the excluding that sort of men, whose known principles make them more incapable of human society, than mere pagans. But especially, 'tis not to be let pass, that you, or your author, industriously represent the primitive English puritans, (concerning whom it were in some respects well for you, if, as the great author you mention speaks, your soul were with theirs,) as if they were generally of your stingy narrow spirit. I wonder how you could think to imDose upon the world in a matter of so recent memory. This attempt had been more prudently deferred till three or four ages hence; especially if great care had been taken, in the meantime, that all books were burnt, or buried, that give any account of them. How notorious is it, that generally they that continued in their native land, as far the greater number did, looked not upon the church of England as no church! That they wished her more reformed; but in great part kept in her communion, (their principal leaders and the people,) taking other opportunities of spiritual improvement, as they could; for which they often ran great hazards. In 62, the same spirit and sentiment afresh appeared; when most of the considerable ejected London ministers met, and agreed to hold occasional communion with the (now) re-established church: not quitting their own ministry, or declining the exercise of it, as they could have opportunity. And as far as I could by inquiry learn, I can little doubt this to have been the judgment of their fellow-sufferers through the nation, in great part, ever since. How could you have the confidence to represent this as a new thing; and an apostacy from primitive puritanism! that hath so much in it of the spirit of primitive Christianity; such largeness of mind! such reverence of what bears a divine stamp and signature upon it, undefaced! such benignity, even towards them by whom they suffered! How strangely inverted, Sir, do things lie in your mind! must we accordingly transpose the names of virtue and vice? And by how much more illustrious any render themselves by the eminent virtues of pride, fury, self-conceit, censoriousness, to the damning of every body, that in all things do not think, and do, as they! Are these things with you characters of the most excellent sorts of Christians? If I had seen any thing in your book that needed, or deserved, a particular answer, I should not have balked it. But seeing nothing that looks like reasoning, but what is so idly sophistical, that any one of common sense can see through it; such as that, "How can a man dissent and conform at the same time?" when all the world knows, or may, conformity consists of numerous parts; and is it such a miracle for a man to conform, in some part, and not in every part? conscientiously to scruple constant entire conformity, and not scruple some part of it, at some time? If any think such talk needs further answering, let them seek it elsewhere. And for your replying, I shall not prescribe to you; only I can assure you, that thereby, neither you, nor any man else, shall divert me from my much more important, pleasant work; unless I see somewhat that shall make it worth my while. The person you criminate, may yet, notwithstanding what you have said, be in the right for ought I see. And therefore, to any such whose case this is, or may be, I can only say, that their rule having been consulted with serious diligence, as I hope it hath; and their end a secret between God and them, which, if it be sincere, is enough for them; they have no cause to be discouraged, but go on, and prosper. But, Mr. Prefacer, if your judgment, upon the case itself, be true; I conceive that truth, accompa nied with your temper of spirit, is much worse than their error. THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE RIGHTEOUS OPENED. AND FURTHER RECOMMENDED FROM THE CONSIDERATION OF THE VANITY OF THIS MORTAL LIFE. IN TWO TREATISES, ON PSALM XVII. 15. AND PSALM LXXXIX. 47. WHEN HE SHALL APPEAR, WE SHALL BE LIKE HIM, FOR WE SHALL SEE HIM AS HE IS, 1 JOHN III. 2. Ἀλλὰ τὰ κακὰ οὐ δυνατὸν ἐν θεοῖς ἱδρύσθαι την δε θνητην φύσιν, και τόνδε τον τόπον περιπολεῖ εξ ανάγκης. Διό και πειρασθαι χρή ἐνθένδε ἐκεῖσε φεύγειν ὅτι τάχισα. Φυγὴ δὲ ὁμοίωσις θεῷ κατὰ τὸ δυνατὸν, ὁμοίωσις δε δίκαιον, και ὅσιον μετὰ φρονήσεως γένεσθαι. Plat. in Theat. TO THE READER. 1 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 matter for their entertainment. Nor am I more concerned to have it known what were the inducements to the publication of it. Earnest protestations and remonstrances 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 tenour 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 a good 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 said to his friend. 'Tis an enclosed pleasure: a joy which the stranger cannot intermeddle with. 'Tis 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; and whither it tends, rather than whereto he meant it. And 'tis obvious enough, to what good purposes discourses of this nature may serve. This is, in the design of it, wholly prac tical; 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. 'Tis 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 practise the far greater things we know; and which more directly tend to nourish and maintain the divine life. The author of that ingenious sentence,t (whoever he were,) hath fitly expressed what is the noisome product of the itch of disputing. It hath begot the ulcerous tumours, 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 affects and pursues are uncouth and unnatural. The rough touch of an ungentle hand. That only pleases which exasperates, (as the moralist aptly expresses some like disaffection of diseased minds.) Toil and vexation is their only delight. 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 humour prevails, men divert from those plainer things, with some slighter and superficial reverence to them, but more heartily esteeming them insipid and 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 above named authors 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 published 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 impertinencies! 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 recreation-sake, or to try his wit * Seneca. + Pruritus disputandi scabies Ecclesin. ↑ Ut ulcera quædam nocituras manus appetunt et tactu gaudent, et fædam corporum scabiem delectat quicquid exasperat: Non aliter dixerim his menti bus in quas voluptates velut mala ulcera eruperunt, voluptati esse laborem, vexationemque. Sen. de Tranquillitate Animi. Sen. de Brev. Vit. and exercise his reason, without stirring his passions to the disturbance of others or himself; 'twere 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 dissention for itself: this is the unnatural humour 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. And, surely, as it is highly pleasurable to retire oneself, so it is charitable to call aside others out of this noise and throng, to consider silently and feed upon the known and agreed things of our religion; which immediately lead to both the duties and delights of it. Among which there are none more evident and undoubted, none less entangled with controversy, none more profitable and pleasant, than the future blessedness of the righteous, which this discourse treats of. The last end is a matter so little disputable, that 'tis commonly thought (which is elsewhere more distinctly spoken to) not to be the object of election, and so not of deliberation consequently, but of simple intention only, because men are supposed to be generally agreed as touching that. And the knowledge and intention of it is apparently the very soul of religion; animates, directs, enlivens, and sweetens the whole thereof. Without which, religion were the vainest, most irrational, and most unsavoury thing in the world. For what were there left of it, but an empty unaccountable formality, a series of spiritless and merely scenical observances and actions without a design? For whereas all men's actions else, mediately tend to the last end, but that not being in view with the most, they pitch upon other intervenient ends; which, though abstracted from the last, should not be; yet they are actually to them the reason of their actions, and infuse a vigour and liveliness into them: religion aiming immediately at the last end, that being taken away, hath no rational end or design at all. And it cannot but be a heartless business, with great solemnity, in a continued course, to do nothing but professedly trifle, or keep up a custom of certain solemn performances which have no imaginable scope or end. And because the more clearly this our last end is understood, the more powerfully and sweetly it attracts and moves the soul, this treatise endeavours to give as plain and positive a state and notion of it as the text insisted on, compared with other Scriptures, would afford to so weak an eye. And because men are so apt to abuse themselves with the vain and self-contradicting hopes of attaining this end, without ever having their spirits framed to it, or walking in the way that leads thereto, as if they could come to heaven by chance, or without any design or care of theirs; the proportion is endeavoured to be shown, between that Divine likeness, in the vision and participation whereof this blessedness consists, and the righteousness that disposes and leads to it. Which may it be monitory to the ungodly and profane, who hate and scorn the likeness of God wherever they behold it. And let me tell such from (better-instructed) pagans, That there is nothing more like or more acceptable to God, than a man that is in the temper of his soul truly good, who excels other men, as he is himself excelled (pardon his hyperbole) by the immortal God. That + between God and good men there is a friendship, by means of virtue; a friendship, yea, a kindred, a likeness; in as much truly as the good man differs from God but in time, (here sprinkle a grain or two,) being his disciple, imitator, and very off-spring. That God is full of indignation against such as reproach one that is like to him, or that praise one that is contrarily affected; (or unlike ;) but such is the good man (i. e. he is one like God.) A good man (as it shortly after follows) is the holiest thing in the world, and a wicked man the most polluted thing. And let me warn such haters of holiness and holy men in the words of this author immediately subjoined; And this I say for this cause, that thou being but a man, the son of a man, no more offend in speaking against a hero, one who is a son of God. Methinks men should be ashamed to profess the belief of a life to come, while they cannot behold without indignation, nor mention but with derision, that holiness without which it can never be attained, and which is indeed the seed and principle of the thing itself. But such are not likely much to trouble themselves with this discourse. There is hule in it indeed of art or ornament to invite or gratify such as the subject itself invites not. And nothing at all but what was apprehended might be some way useful. The affectation of garnishing a margin with the names of authors, I have ever thought a vain pedantry; yet have not declined the occasional use of a few that occurred. He that writes to the world, must reckon himself debtor to the wise and unwise. If what is done shall be found with any to have promoted its proper end; his praises to God shall follow it (as his prayers do that it may) who professes himself, A well-willer to the souls of men. Nihil est Deo similius aut gratius quam vir animo perfecte bonus, &c. Apul. de Deo Socratis. Inter bonos viros ac Deum Amicitia est, conciliante virtute amicitiam dico? etiam necessitudo, et similitudo, &c. Sen. de Prov. J. HOWE. · Νέμεσα γαρ ο θεός όταν τις ψέγη τον εαυτωι ομοίον, η επαίνη τον εαυτών εναντίως έχοντα, έσι δ' ουτος ο αγαθος.-πάντων ιερώτατον εςιν άνθρωπος αγαθός, και μιαρώτατον ο πονηρος. Plat. in Minoe. 5 Τούτου δ' ένεκα φράσω, ίνα μη ανθρωπος ων άνθρωπον, εις ηρω Διος υιον λόγω εξαμαρτάνης, CHRISTIAN READER. You whose hearts are set on heaven, who are daily laying up a treasure there, here is a welcome messenger, to tell you more than perhaps you have well considered, of the nature of your future blessedness, and to illustrate the map of the land of promise, and to bring you another cluster of its grapes: here is a useful help to make you know that holiness doth participate of glory, and that heaven is at least virtually in the seed of grace. Though this life be properly called a life of faith, as contradistinct from the intuition and fruition hereafter, as well as from the lower life of sense; yet is it a great truth, and not sufficiently considered and improved, that we have here more than faith, to acquaint us with the blessedness expected. Between faith and glory, there is the spirit of holiness, the love of God, the heavenly desires, which are kindled by faith, and are those branches on which the happy flower and fruit must grow: they are the name and mark of God upon us: they are our earnest, our pledge, and the first fruits. And is not this more than a word of promise only? Therefore though all Christians must live by faith, marvel not that I tell you, that you may, you must, have more than faith. Is not a pledge and earnest, a first-fruits, more? Therefore have Christians not only a Spirit to evidence their title, but also some foretaste of heaven itself. For faith in Christ is to recover us to God; and so much as we have of God, so much of fruition; and so much as faith hath kindled in you of the love of God, so much foretaste you have of heaven; for you are deceived, if you think, that any one notion speaketh more to you of heaven, and of your ultimate end, than the love of God. And though no unsound ill-grounded faith will serve to cause this sacred love, yet when it is caused, it over-tops this cause; and he that perceiveth the operations of a strong effectual love, hath an acquaintance with God and heaven which is above that of believing. Faith seeth the feast, but love is the tasting of it. And therefore it is, that the holiest souls stick closest unto God, because (though their reasoning faculty may be defective) they know him by the highest and most tenacious kind of knowledge which this world affordeth, (as I have lately shown elsewhere.) Here you have described to you, the true witness of the Spirit; not that of supposed internal voices, which they are usually most taken up with, who have the smallest knowledge, and faith, and love, and the greatest self-esteem, or spiritual pride, with the strongest phantasies and passions: but the objective and the sealing testimony, the divine nature, the renewed image of God, whose children are known by being like to their heavenly Father, even by being holy as he is holy. This is the Spirit of adoption, by which we are inclined, by holy love to God, and confidence in him, to cry Abba Father, and to fly unto him: the Spirit of sanctification is thereby in us the Spirit of adoption; for both signify but the giving us that love to God, which is the filial nature, and our Father's image. And this treatise doth happily direct thee to that faithful beholding God in righteousness, which must here begin this blessed assimilation, which full intuition will for ever perfect. It is a happy sign that God is about to repair our ruins and divisions, when he stirreth up his servants to speak so much of heaven; and to call up the minds of impatient complainers, and contentious censurers, and ignorant self-conceited dividers, and of worldly, unskilful, and unmerciful pastors, to look to that state where all the godly shall be one; and to turn those thoughts to the furtherance of holiness, to provoke one another to love and to good works, which too many lay out upon their hay and stubble; and to call men from judging and despising each other (and worse than both those) about their meats and drinks, and days, to study righteousness and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. For he that in these things serveth Christ (in which his kingdom doth consist) is acceptable to God, and approved of men, that are wise and good. Let us therefore follow after the things which make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify another. Whilst the contentious for meats will destroy the work of God, (Rom. xiv. 17-20.) the union between peace and holiness is so strict, that he that truly promoteth one promoteth both, Heb. xii. 14. Jam. iii. 17. The true way of our union is excellently described, Eph. iv. 11-16. If any plain, unlearned readers shall blame the accurateness of the style, they must remember, that those persons have not the least need to hear of heaven, and to be drawn up from the vanities of earth, who cannot digest a looser style. As God hath endued the worthy author with a more than ordinary measure of judiciousness, even soundness and accurateness, of understanding, with seriousness, spirituality, and a heavenly mind; so we have for our common benefit the effects of all these happy qualifications, in this judicious, heavenly discourse. And if my recommendations may in any measure further your acceptance, improvement, and practising of so edifying 3 treatise, it will answer the ends of him who waiteth with you in hope for the same salvation. Acton, May 30. RICHARD BAXTER, |