sight of him again; but must follow it still, with a constant and eager intention: like as the disciples of Christ; when they had fixed their eyes upon their ascending Saviour, could not be taken off with the presence of angels; but sent their eye beams after him into heaven, so earnestly, that the reproof of those glorious spirits could hardly pull them off.

You are now ready to tell me, this is a fit task for us, when we are in our heaven; and to plead the difficulty of such our settlement, in this region of change, where our eyes cannot but be forced aside, with the necessity of our worldly occasions: and to question the possibility of viewing two objects at once, God, and the world: not considering, that herein lies the improvement of the Christian's skill, in these divine optics. The carnal eye looks through God, at the world: the spiritual eye looks through the world, at God: the one of those he seeth me+ diately; the other, terminatively: neither is it, in nature, hard to conceive, how we may see two such objects, as whereof one is in the way to the other; as through a prospective glass, we can see a remote mark; or, through a thin cloud, we can see heaven. Those glorious angels of heaven are never without the vision of God; yet, being ministering spirits for the good of his elect here below, they must needs take notice of these earthly occurrences: the variety of these sublunary objects cannot divert their thoughts from their Maker. Although also, to speak distinctly, the eye, thus employed, is not the same: nothing hinders, but that, while the bodily sees a body, the spiritual eye may see a spirit: as, when a loadstone is presented to my view, the eye of my sense sees the body and fashion of the stone, my eye of reason sees the hidden virtue which is in it. Both these kinds of eyes may be thus fixed upon their several objects, without any intersection of the visual lines of each other.

But, that no man may think God hath so little respect to our infirmities, as to impose upon us impossible tasks, we must know, that, since the soul of man, in this state of frail mortality, is not capable of a perpetual act of such an intuition of God, here is necessary use of a just distinction,

As the school is wont to distinguish of intentions; so must we here, of the apprehension of God: which is either actual, or habitual, or virtual: actual, when our cogitations are taken up and directly employed in the meet consideration of the Blessed Deity, and the things thereto appertaining: habitual, when we have a settled kind of holy disposition, and aptitude inclining us ever to these divine thoughts; ready still to bring them forth into act, upon every least motion: virtual, betwixt both these, being neither so quick and agile, as the actual; nor yet so dull and flagging as the habitual, which may be incident to a man whether sleeping or otherwise busied: when, by the power of a heavenly disposition wrought in the mind, we are so affected, as that divine thoughts are become the constant, though insensible, guests of the soul; while the virtue of that original illumination sticks still by us, and is, in a sort, derived into all our subsequent cogitations; leaving in them perpetual remainders of the holy effects of the deeply wrought and well-grounded apprehension of God: as, in a pilgrim towards the holy land, there are not always actual thoughts concerning his way or end; yet there is still a habitual resolution, to begin and compass that journey; and a secret power of his continued will, to put forward his steps to that purpose; there being a certain impression remaining in the motive faculty, which still insensibly stirs him towards the place desired; neither is it unusual, even in nature, to see many effects continuing, when the motion of the cause, by which they were wrought, ceaseth; as when some deep bell is wrung to the height, the noise continues some time in the air, after the clapper is silent; or, when a stone is cast into the water, the circles that are caused by it are enlarged and multiplied, after the stone lies still in the bottom.

However, therefore, we cannot hope in this life, through our manifold weaknesses and distractions, to attain unto the steady continuance of the actual view of him that is invisible; yet, to the habitual and virtual power of apprehending him, we may, through the goodness of him whom we strive to see, happily aspire.

Neither may we be wanting to ourselves, in taking all

occasions of renewing these our actual visions of God; both set, and casual. There is nothing, that we can see, which does not put us in mind of God: what creature is there, wherein we do not espy some footsteps of a Deity? every herb, flower, leaf, in our garden; every bird and fly, in the air; every ant and worm, in the ground; every spider, in our window; speaks the omnipotence and infinite wisdom of their Creator. None of these may pass us, without some fruitful monition of acknowledging a divine hand. But, besides these, it will be requisite for us, every morning, to season our thoughts with a serious renovation of our awful apprehensions of God; and not to take off our hand, till we have wrought our hearts to some good competency of right and holy conceits of that glorious majesty: the efficacy whereof may dilate itself to the whole following day; which may be often revived by our frequent ejaculations. But, above all other, when we have to do with God, in the set immediate exercises of his services and our heavenly devotions, we must endeavour, to our utmost, to sharpen our eyes to a spiritual perspicacity; striving to see him, whom we speak unto, and who speaks unto us, as he hath pleased to reveal himself. But, over and beside all these, even when we have no provocations from any particular occasion, it must be our continual care to labour with our God, that it would please him to work us to such a holy and heavenly disposition, as that, whatever our employments may be, we may never want the comfort of a virtual and habitual enjoying the sight of God; so as the power and efficacy of our first well-taken apprehension may run on, through all the following actions and events, both of our life and death.

[7.] Upon this constant fixedness of our thoughts on God, there cannot but follow, in the seventh place, a marvellous delight and complacency of the soul, in so blessed an object. Neither is it easy to determine, whether of these do more justly challenge a precedency in the heart: whether the eye be so fixed, because it is well pleased with the sight; or, whether it be so pleased and ravished, with that happy sight, because it is so fixed. Whatsoever these two are, in the order of nature, I am

sure, in time, they are inseparable: neither is it possible for any man to see God as interested in him, and not to love him, and take pleasure in him. As a stranger, as an enemy, or avenger, even devils and reprobate souls behold him, to their regret and torment; if I may not say, they rather see his anger and judgment, than himself: but never eye can see him as his God and not be taken with infinite delight: for that absolute goodness, out of which no man can contemplate God, can be no other than infinitely amiable. And if, in the seeing of God, we be, as the School hath taught us to speak, unitively carried into him, how can we choose but in this act, be affected with joy unspeakable and glorious? "In thy presence," saith the psalmist, "is the fulness of joy: and, at thy right-hand, are pleasures for evermore."

In sum, therefore; if, when our eyes, being freed from all natural indispositions and both inward and outward impediments, we have so this blessed object presented before us, as that, there is an exaltation and fortification of our sight; and, thereupon, a trajection of the visual beams through all earthly occurrences; and a divine irradiation of the understanding; and a steadfast fixing of the eye upon this happy object, without wandering and distraction; not without a wonderful delight and joy in the God of all comfort, whom we apprehend; we do now effectually borrow Moses's eyes, and, as he did, see the Invisible.

(3.) But, as all good things are difficult, and all difficulties full of discouragement unless they be matched with a countervailable benefit, in which cases they do rather whet than turn the edge of our desires; let us see, what considerations of profit, arising from this noble act, may stir up our languishing hearts to the endeavour and performance thereof.

There are actions, which, carrying nothing but danger and trouble in the mouth of them, had need to be drawn on with the promise of an external reward. There are those, which carry in them their own recompence: such is this we have in hand. What can there be out of itself so good as it? When we take pains to put ourselves into some theatre or court, or some pompous triumph, we have

no other end, but to see; and yet, how poor and unsatisfying is that spectacle; and such, as wherein our frivolous curiosity shuts up in emptiness and discontentment! How justly then are we ambitious of this prospect, wherein, to but see, is to be blessed! It is no news, to see wantons transported from themselves, with the sight of a beautiful face; though such, perhaps, as wherein they can never hope to have any interest: and some curious eyes, no less taken with an exquisite picture; which yet shall never be theirs: how can we be other than ravished with a heavenly delight and pleasure, in so seeing the infinite beauty of the God of spirits, as that our sight cannot be severed from fruition? The act itself is an abundant remuneration; yet doth it not want many sweet and beneficial consequences, which do justly quicken our desires to attain unto the practice of it.

[1.] Whereof it is not the meanest, that whoever hath happily aspired thereunto, cannot be carried away with earthly vanities. What poor things are these, in comparison of those invisible glories! Alas, what was the pleasure, and riches, of the court of Egypt, in the eyes of Moses, when he had once seen his God? It is a true word, that of the chancellor of Paris, "When a man hath tasted once of the spirit, all flesh is savourless." Surely, when once the chosen vessel had been rapt into the third heaven, and seen those unutterable magnificencies of the divine majesty, who can wonder, if he looked, ever after, with scorn and pity upon all the glittering poverty of this inferior world? Go then, ye poorly-great ones of the world, and admire the piles of your treasures, the stateliness of your structures, the sound of your titles, the extent of your territories: but know, that he, who hath seen the least glimpse of the Invisible, knows how to commiserate your felicity; and wonders what ye can see in all these, worth your admiration and pursuit. What joy and triumph was among the Jews, when they saw the foundation of the second temple laid! yet those ancient priests and levites, whose eyes had seen the glory of the former temple, wept, and cried as loud as the rest shouted. Those, that know no better, may rejoice and exult in these worldly contentments; but those who have had