A SERMON PREACHED At the Cathedral Church of St. Paul, Novemb. 9. 1662.

By ROBERT SOUTH, M. A. Publick Oratour to the University of Oxford, and Chaplain to the Lord high Chancellour.

LONDON: Printed by J. G. for Tho. Robinson, Bookseller in Oxon. 1663.

To the Right Honourable, THE Lord Mayor and Aldermen Of the City of LONDON.

Right Honourable,

WHen I consider how impossible it is for a person of my condition to produce, and consequently how imprudent to attempt, any thing in proportion ei­ther to the Amplenesse of the Body you represent, or of the Places you bear, I should be kept from venturing so poor a piece, designed to live but an hour, in so lasting a Publication; did not what your Civility calls a Request, your Greatness render a Command. The truth is, in things not unlawful great Persons cannot be properly said to request, because, all things considered, they must not be de­nyed. To me it was Honour enough to have your Audience; enjoyment enough to behold your hap­py Change, and to see the same City, the Metro­polis of Loyalty and of the Kingdom; to behold [Page] the Glory of English Churches reformed, that is, delivered from the Reformers; and to find at least the service of the Church repaired, though not the buildings; to see St. Pauls delivered from Beasts here, as well as St. Paul at Ephe­sus: and to view the Church thronged onely with Troops of Auditors, not of Horse. This I could fully have acquiesced in, and received a large per­sonal reward in my Particular share of the pub­lick Joy: but since you are further pleased, I will not say by your Judgement to approve, but by your Acceptance to encourage the raw endeavours of a young Divine; I shall take it for an Opportuni­ty, not as others in-their sage Prudence use to do, to quote three or four Texts of Scripture, and to tell you how you are to rule the City out of a Concordance; no; I bring not Instructions, but what much better befits both you and my self, your Commendations. For I look upon your City as the great and magnificent stage of Business, and by consequence the best place of Improvement; for from the School we go to the University, but from the Universities to London. And therefore as in your City-meetings you must be esteemed the most considerable Body of the Nation; so met in the [Page] Church, I look upon you as an Auditory fit to be waited on, as you are, by both Universities. And when I remember how instrumental you have been to recover this universal settlement, and to re­trieve the old Spirit of Loyalty to Kings (as an ancient testimony of which, you bear not tbe Sword in vain) I seem in a manner deputed from Ox­ford, not so much as Preacher to supply a course, as Oratour to present her thanks. As for the ensu­ing Discourse, which, (lest I chance to be traduced for a Plagiary by him who has played the thief) I think fit to tell the world by the way, was one of those that by a worthy hand were stoln from me in the Kings Chappel, and are still detained; and to which now accidentally published by your Honours Order, your Patronage must give both value, and protection. You will find me in it not to have pitcht upon any subject, that mens guilt, and the conse­quent of guilt, their concernment might render lyable to exception; nor to have rubbed up the me­mory of what some heretofore in the City did, which more and better now detest, and therefore expiate: but my subject is inoffensive, harmless, and innocent as the State of Innocence it felf, and (I hope) sutable to the present design and Ge­nius [Page] of this Nation, which is, or should be, to re­turn to that Innocence, which it lost long since the Fall. Briefly, my business is, by describing what Man was in his first estate, to upbraid him with what he is in his present: between whom Innocent, and Faln (that in a word I may sute the subject to the place of my discourse) there is as great an un­likeness, as between St. Pauls a Cathedral, and St. Pauls a Stable. But I must not forestall my self, nor transcribe the Work into the Dedication. I shall now onely desire you to accept the issue of your own requests; the gratification of which I have here consulted so much before my own repu­tation: while like the poor widow I endeavour to shew my officiousness by an Offering, though I betray my poverty by the measure; not so much caring though I appear neither Preacher nor Scho­ler, (which terms we have been taught upon good reason to distinguish) so I may in this but shew my self

Your Honours very humble Servant,

Robert South.

Worcester-house,

Nov. 24. 1662.

Gen. 1. 27. ‘So God created man in his own Image, in the image of God created he him.’

HOw hard it is for Natural Rea­son to discover a Creation be­fore revealed, or being re­vealed to believe it: The strange Opinions of the old Philoso­phers, and the Infidelity of modern A­theists, is too sad a Demonstration. To run the world back to its first originall and Infancie; and (as it were) to view Nature in its cradle, to trace the out­goings of the Ancient of dayes in the first Instance and Specimen of his Creative [Page 2] Power, is a re-search too great for any mortall Enquiry: and we might conti­nue our Scrutiny to the end of the World, before Naturall Reason would be able to find out when it begun.

Epicurus his Discourse concerning the Originall of the World is so fabulous and ridiculously merry, that we may well judge the Design of his Philosophy to have been Pleasure, and not Instru­ction.

Aristotle held, That it streamed by con­naturall Result and Emanation from God, the Infinite and Eternall Mind, as the Light issues from the Sun; so that there was no Instance of Duration as­signable of Gods eternal existence, in which the World did not also co-exist.

Others held a Fortuitous Concourse of Atomes. But all seem joyntly to explode a Creation; still beating upon this ground, that to produce Something out of Nothing is Impossible and Incompre­hensible. Incomprehensible indeed I grant, but not therefore Impossible. [Page 3] There is not the least transaction of sense, and motion in the whole man, but Phi­losophers are at a losse to comprehend, I am sure they are to explain, it. Where­fore it is not alwayes rational to measure the truth of an assertion by the Standard of our Apprehension.

But to bring things even to the bare perceptions of Reason, I appeal to any one, who shall impartially reflect upon the Ideas and Conceptions of his own mind, whether he doth not find it as easie and sutable to his Naturall Noti­ons, to conceive that an Infinite Almigh­ty Power might produce a thing out of nothing, and make that to exist De Novo, which did not exist before; as to con­ceive the World to have had no begin­ning, but to have existed from Eterni­ty: Which, were it so proper for this place and exercise, I could easily demon­strate to be attended with no small train of absurdities. But then, besides that the acknowledging of a Creation is safe, and the denyal of it dangerous and irreligious, [Page 4] and yet not more, (perhaps much less) demonstrable than the affirmative; so over and above it gives me this advan­tage, that, let it seem never so strange, uncouth, and impossible, the Nonplus of my reason will yield a fairer Opportu­nity to my faith.

In this Chapter we have God survey­ing the works of the Creation, and lea­ving this generall Impresse or Character upon them, That they were exceeding good. What an Omnipotence wrought, we have an Omniscience to approve. But as it is reasonable to imagine that there is more of design, and consequently more of perfection, in the last work; we have God here giving his last stroke, and sum­ming up all into Man, the Whole into a Part, the Universe into an Individual: so that whereas in other Creatures we have but the Trace of his foot-steps, in Man we have the Draught of his hand. In him were united all the scattered per­sections of the Creature; all the graces and Ornaments, all the Airs and features [Page 5] of Being, were abridged into this small, yet full, Systeme of Nature and Divinity. As we might well imagine that the great Artificer would be more then ordina­rily exact in Drawing his own Picture.

The Work that I shall undertake from these words, shall be to shew what this Image of God in Man is, and wherein it doth consist: which I shall do these two wayes. 1. Negatively, by shewing where­in it does not consist. 2. Positively, by shewing wherein it does.

For the first of these we are to remove the erroneous opinion of the Socinians. They deny that the Image of God consist­ed in any Habitual Perfections that ador­ned the Soul of Adam: But as to his Un­derstanding bring him in Void of all Notion, a rude unwritten Blanck; ma­king him to be created as much an Infant as others are born; sent into the World onely to read and spell out a God in the Works of Creation, to learn by degrees, till at length his Understanding grew up to the stature of his Body. Also without [Page 6] any inherent habits of vertue in his Will; thus devesting him of all, and stripping him to his bare Essence. So that all the perfection they allowed his Understand­ing was Aptness and Docility, and all that they attributed to his will was a Possibi­lity to be Vertuous.

But wherein then according to their opinion did this Image of God consist? Why; in that Power and Dominion that God gave Adam over the Creatures: In that he was vouced his immediate Deputy upon Earth, the Viceroy of the Creation, and Lord Lieutenant of the World. But that this Power and Dominion is not ade­quately and formally the Image of God, but onely a Part ofit, is clear from hence; Because then he that had most of this, would have most of Gods Image: and consequently Nimrod had more of it then Noah, Saul then Samuel, the Persecutors then the Martyrs, and Caesar then Christ himself, which to assert is a Blasphemous Paradox. And if the Image of God is onely Grandeur, Power and Soveraignty, [Page 7] certainly we have been hitherto much mistaken in our Duty: and hereafter are by all means to beware of making our selves unlike God, by too much Self­denyall and Humility. I am not ignorant that some may distinguish between [...] and [...], between a Lawfull Authority and an Actuall Power; and affirme, that Gods Image consists onely in the former: which wicked Princes, such as Saul and Nimrod, have not, though they possess the latter. But to this I answer,

1. That the Scripture neither makes nor ownes such a distinction, nor any where asserts, that when Princes begin to be wicked, they cease of right to be Govern­ours. Adde to this, that when God re­newed this Charter of Man's Soveraignty over the Creatures to Noah and his family, we find no exception at all, but that Cham stood as fully invested with this Right as any of his Brethren.

2. But secondly, This savours of some­thing ranker then Socinianisme, even the Tenents of the Fifth Monarchy, and of [Page 8] Soveraignty founded onely upon Saint­ship; and therefore is fitter to be answe­red by the Judge, then by the Divine; and to receive its confutation at the Bar of Justice, then from the Pulpit.

Having thus made our way through this false Opinion, we are in the next place to lay down positively what this Image of God in Man is. It is in short, That Uni­versal Rectitude of all the faculties of the Soul, by which they stand apt and disposed to their re­spective Offices and Operations. Which will be more fully set forth, by taking a di­stinct survey of it, in the several faculties belonging to the soul.

  • 1. In the Understanding.
  • 2. In the Will.
  • 3. In the Passions or Affections.

1. And first for its noblest faculty, the Understanding: It was then sublime, clear, and aspiring, and as it were the souls up­per Region, lofty and serene, free from the vapours and disturbances of the infe­riour affections. It was the leading, con­trolling faculty; all the Passions wore the [Page 9] colours of Reason: it did not so much perswade, as command; it was not Con­sul but Dictator. Discourse was then al­most as quick as Intuition; it was nim­ble in proposing, firm in concluding: it could sooner determine then now it can dispute. Like the Sun, it had both light and agility; it knew no rest but in moti­on; no quiet, but in activity. It did not so properly apprehend, as irradiate the Object; not so much finde, as make things intelligible. It did arbitrate upon the several Reports of sense, and all the varieties of Imagination; not like a drou­sie Judge, onely hearing, but also directing their Verdict. In summe, it was vegete, quick, and lively; open as the Day, un­tainted as the Morning, full of the inno­cence and spritelinesse of Youth; it gave the Soul a bright, and a full view into all things, and was not onely a Window, but it self the Prospect. Briefly, there is as much difference between the clear Re­presentations of the understanding then, and the obscure discoveries that it makes [Page 10] now, as there is between the Prospect of a Casement, and of a Key-hole.

Now as there are two great functions of the Soul, Contemplation, and Practice, ac­cording to that general division of Ob­jects, some of which onely entertain our Speculation, others also imploy our A­ctions; so the Understanding with relati­on to these, not because of any distinction in the faculty it self, is accordingly divi­ded into Speculative and Practick: in both of which the Image of God was then ap­parent.

1. For the Understanding Speculative. There are some general Maximes and No­tions in the mind of Man, which are the rules of Discourse, and the basis of all Phi­losophy. As that the same thing cannot at the same time be, and not be. That the Whole is bigger then a Part. That two Proportions equal to a third, must also be equal to one another. Aristotle indeed affirms the Mind to be at first a meer Rasa tabula; and that these Notions are not ingenite, and imprinted by the finger of Nature, but by the latter and [Page 11] more languid impressions of sense; being onely the Reports of observation, and the Result of so many repeated Experiments.

But to this I answer two things.

1. That these Notions are universal, and what is universal must needs proceed from some Universal, constant Principle, the same in all particulars; which here can be nothing else but humane Nature.

2. These cannot be infused by obser­vation, because they are the rules by which men take their first apprehensions and observations of things, and therefore in order of Nature must needs precede them: As the being of the Rule must be before its application to the thing direct­ed by it. From whence it follows, that these were Notions not descending from us, but born with us; not our Off-spring, but our Brethren; and (as I may so say) such as we were taught without the help of a Teacher.

Now it was Adams happinesse in the state of innocence to have these clear and unsullied. He came into the World a Phi­losopher, [...] [Page 10] [...] [Page 11] [Page 12] which sufficiently appeared by his writing the Nature of things upon their Names: he could view Essences in themselves, and read Forms without the comment of their respective Properties: he could see Consequents yet dormant in their principles, and effects yet unborn and in the Womb of their Causes: his un­derstanding could almost pierce into fu­ture contingents; his conjectures impro­ving even to Prophesie, or the certainties of Prediction; till his fall it was ignorant of nothing but of Sin; or at least it rested in the notion without the smart of the Experiment. Could any difficulty have been proposed, the resolution would have been as early as the Proposal; it could not have had time to settle into Doubt. Like a better Archimedes, the issue of all his En­quiries was an [...] an [...], the off-spring of his brain without the sweat of his brow. Study was not then a Duty, night­watchings were needless; the light of Reason wanted not the assistance of a Candle. This is the doom of faln man to [Page 13] labour in the fire, to seek truth in profundo, to exhaust his time and impair his health, and perhaps to spin out his dayes, and himself into one pitiful, controverted Conclusion. There was then no poring, no strugling with memory, no straining for Invention. His faculties were quick and expedite: they answered without knock­ing, they were ready upon the first sum­mons, there was freedom, and firmness in all their Operations. I confesse'tis difficult for us who date our ignorance from our first Being, and were still bred up with the same infirmities about us, with which we were born, to raise our thoughts, and ima­gination to those intellectual perfections that attended our Nature in the time of In­nocence; as it is for a Peasant bred up in the obscurities of a cottage, to fancy in his mind the unseen splendour of a Court. But by ratingPositives by their Privatives, and other arts of Reason, by which dis­course supplies the want of the Reports of sense, we may collect the Excellency of the Understanding then by the glorious [Page 14] remainders of it now, and guesse at the statelinesse of the building, by the magni­ficence of its ruines. All those arts, rari­ties, and inventions, which vulgar minds gaze at, the ingenious pursue, and all ad­mire, they are but the reliques of an Intel­lect defaced with Sin and Time. We ad­mire it now, onely as Antiquaries do a piece of old coin, for the Stamp it once bore, and not for those vanishing linea­ments, and disappearing draughts, that re­main upon it at present. And certainly that must needs have been very glorious, whose decayes are so admirable. He that is comely when old and decrepit, surely was very beautiful when he was young. An Aristotle was but the rubbish of an Adam, and Athens but the rudiments of Pa­radise.

2. The Image of God was no lesse re­splendent in that which we call mans Practical Understanding, namely, that Store-house of the Soul, in which are trea­sured up the rules of Action, and the seeds of Morality. Where we must observe that [Page 15] many, who deny all Connate notions in the Speculative Intellect, do yet admit them in this. Now of this sort are these Maximes, That God is to be worshipped. That Parents are to be honoured, That a mans word is to be kept, and the like; which being of universal influence, as to the regulation of the behaviour, and converse of man­kind, are the ground of all vertue, and ci­vility, and the foundation of religion.

It was the Priviledge of Adam Inno­cent to have these Notions also firm and untainted, to carry his Monitor in his bo­som, his law in his heart, and to have such a Conscience, as might be its own Casuist: And certainly those Actions must needs be regular, where there is an Identity between the rule, and the faculty. His own mind taught him a due depen­dance upon God, and chalked out to him the just proportions, and measures of be­haviour to his fellow-creatures. He had no Catechisme but the Creation, needed no Study but Reflection, read no book but the volume of the world, and that too [Page 16] not for rules to work by, but for Objects to work upon. Reason was his Tutor, and first principles his magna moralia. The De­calogue of Moses was but a transcript, not an Original. All the Laws of nations and wise Decrees of states, the Statutes of Solon, and the twelve Tables, were but a para­phrase upon this standing rectitude of Nature, this fruitful principle of Justice, that was ready to run out, and enlarge it self into sutable determinations, upon all emergent objects, and occasions. Ju­stice then was neither blind to discern, nor lame to execute. It was not subject to be imposed upon by a deluding fancy, nor yet to be bribed by a glozing appetite, for an Utile or Jucundum to turn the balance to a false or dishonest sentence. In all its directions of the inferiour faculties, it conveyed its suggestions with clearness, and enjoyned them with power; it had the Passions in perfect subjection; and though its command over them was but suasive, and political, yet it had the force of coactive, and despotical. It was not [Page 17] then, as it is now, where the Conscience has onely power to disapprove, and to protest against the exorbitances of the Passions; and rather to wish, then make them otherwise. The voice of Conscience now is low, and weak, chastising the Passi­ons, as old Eli did his lustful, domineering Sons; Not so my Sons, not so: but the voice of Conscience then was not, This should, or this ought to be done; but this must, this shall be done. It spoke like a Legislator: the thing spoke was a Law; and the man­ner of speaking it a new Obligation. In short, there was as great a disparity be­tween the Practical dictates of the Under­standing then, and now, as there is be­tween empire and advice, counsel and command, between a companion and a governour.

And thus much for the Image of God as it shone in mans understanding.

2. Let us in the next place take a view of it, as it was stamped upon the Will. It is much disputed by Divines concerning the power of mans will to Good and Evil [Page 18] in the state of Innocence; and upon very nice, and dangerous precipices stand their determinations on either side. Some hold that God invested him with a power to stand, so that in the strength of that power received, he might without the auxiliaries of any further influence have determined his will to the choice of good. Others hold, that notwithstanding this power, yet it was impossible for him, to exert it in any good action, without a superadded assistance of grace, actually determining that power to the certain production of such an act. So that, whereas some di­stinguish between sufficient, and effectual grace; they order the matter so, as to ac­knowledge none sufficient, but what is in­deed effectual, and actually productive of a good action. I shall not presume to in­terpose dogmatically in a Controversie, that I never look to see decided. But con­cerning the latter of these Opinions, I shall onely give these two remarks.

1. That it seems contrary to the com­mon and natural conceptions of all mankind, [Page 19] who acknowledge themselves able, and sufficient to do many things, which actual­ly they never do.

2. That to assert, that God looked up­on Adams fall as a sin, and punished it as such, when as without any antecedent sin of his, he withdrew that actual grace from him, upon the withdrawing of which, it was impossible for him not to fall, seems a thing that highly reproaches the essential equity and goodness of the divine Nature.

Wherefore doubtless the will of man in the state of Innocence, had an entire freedom, a perfect equipendency and in­difference to either part of the contradicti­on, to stand, or not to stand, to accept, or not accept the temptation. I will grant the Will of man now to be as much a slave as any one will have it, and to be onely free to Sin; that is, instead of a liberty, to have onely a licentiousnesse; yet certainly this is not Nature, but Chance. We were not born crooked: We learnt these windings and turnings of the Serpent, and therefore it cannot but be a blasphemous piece of [Page 20] ingratitude to ascribe them to God; and to make the plague of our Nature the condition of our Creation.

The Will was then ductile, and pliant to all the motions of right Reason, it met the dictates of a clarified understanding half way. And the Active informations of the Intellect, filling the Passive reception of the will, like Form closing with Matter, grew actuate into a third, and distinct perfection of Practice: The Understand­ing, and Will never disagreed, for the pro­posals of the one never thwarted the in­clinations of the other. Yet neither did the Will servilely attend upon the Under­standing, but as a favourite does upon his Prince, where the service is priviledge, and Preferment; or as Solomons servants wait­ed upon him. It admired its wisdom, and heard its prudent dictates, and counsels, both the direction, and the reward of its obedience. It is indeed the nature of this faculty to follow a Superiour guide, to be drawn by the Intellect; but then it was drawn, as a Triumphant Chariot, which [Page 21] at the same time both follows and triumphs While it obeyed this, it commanded the other faculties. It was subordinate, not enslaved to the Understanding: Not as a Servant to a Master, but as a Queen to her King; who both acknowledges a Sub­jection, and yet retains a Majesty.

Passe we now downward from mans Intellect and Will,

3. To the Passions; which have their residence and scituation chiefly in the Sensitive Appetite. For we must know, that in as much as man is a compound and mixture of Flesh as well as Spirit, the soul during its abode in the body, does all things by the mediation of these Passi­ons, and inferiour affections. And here the Opinion of the Stoicks was famous and singular, who lookt upon all these as sinful defects and Irregularities, as so ma­ny deviations from right Reason, making Passion to be onely another word for Per­turbation. Sorrow in their esteem was a sin scarce to be expiated by another, to pity was a fault, to rejoyce an extravagance, and [Page 22] the Apostles advice to be angry and sin not, was a contradiction in their Philosophy. But in this, they were constantly out­voted by other Sects of Philosophers, neither for fame, nor number lesse then themselves: So that all arguments brought against them from Divinity would come by way of overplus to their confutation. To us let this be sufficient, that our Saviour Christ, who took upon him all our natural infirmities, but none of our sinful, has been seen to Weep, to be sorrowful, to Pity, and to be Angry. Which shews that there might be gall in a Dove, Passion without Sin, fire with­out smoke, and motion without distur­bance. For it is not bare agitation, but the sediment at the bottom that troubles and defiles the Water. And when we see it windy and dusty, the wind does not (as we use to say) make, but one­ly raise a dust.

Now though the Schooles reduce all the Passions to these two heads, the concu­piscible, and the irascible Appetite: yet, I [Page 23] shall not tie my self to an exact prosecu­tion of them under this Division, but at this time leaving both their terms and their method to themselves, consider onely the principal and most noted Pas­sions, from whence we may take an esti­mate of the rest. And first, for the grand leading affection of all, which is Love. This is the great Instrument and Engine of Nature, the bond and cement of So­ciety, the spring and spirit of the Uni­verse. Love is such an affection, as can­not so properly be said to be in the Soul, as the Soul to be in that. It is the whole man wrapt up into one desire, all the powers, vigour, and faculties of the Soul abridged into one inclination. And it is of that active, restless nature, that it must of necessity exert it self; and like the fire, to which it is so often compared, it is not a Free Agent, to choose whether it will heat or no, but it streams forth by natu­rall results, and unavoidable emanations. So that it will fasten upon an inferiour, unsutable Object, rather then none at [Page 24] all. The Soul may sooner leave off to subsist, then to love; and like the Vine, it withers and dyes, if it has nothing to embrace. Now this affection in the state of Innocence was happily pitched upon its right Object; it flamed up in direct fervours of devotion to God, and in col­lateral emissions of charity to its Neigh­bour. It was not then onely another and more cleanly name for Lust. It had none of those impure heats, that both represent and deserve Hell. It was a vestall and a virgin fire, and differed as much from that which usually passes by this name now-a-dayes, as the vital heat from the bur­nings of a fever.

Then for the contrary Passion of Ha­tred. This we know is the Passion of de­fiance, and there is a kind of a versation and hostility included in its very essence and being. But then, (if there could have been hatred in the world, when there was scarce any thing odious) it would have acted within the compasse of its proper object. Like Aloes, bitter indeed, but wholsome. [Page 25] There would have been no rancour, no hatred of our Brother: An innocent na­ture could hate nothing that was inno­cent. In a word, so great is the commu­tation, that the Soul then hated onely that, which now onely it loves, that is, Sin.

And if we may bring Anger under this head, as being according to some a tran­sient hatred, or at least very like it. This also, as unruly as now it is, yet then it vented it self by the measures of reason. There was no such thing as the transports of malice, or the violences of revenge: no rendring evill for evill, when evil was truly a non entity, and no where to be found. Anger then was like the sword of Justice, keen, but innocent and righteous. It did not act like fury, and then call it self zeal. It alwayes espoused Gods honour: nor ever kindled upon any thing but in order to a Sacrifice. It sparkled like the coal upon the Altar, with the fervours of piety, the heats of devotion, the sallies and vibrations of an harmlesse activi­ty. [Page 26] In the next place, for the lightsome Passion of Joy. It was not that, which now often usurpes this name; that trivi­al, vanishing, superficial thing, that onely gilds the apprehension, and playes upon the surface of the Soul. It was not the meer crackling of thorns, a suddain blase of the Spirits, the exultation of a tickled fancy, or a pleased appetite. Joy was then a masculine and a severe thing: the recreation of the Judgment, the Jubilee of reason: it was the result of a real good sutably applyed. It commenced upon the solidities of Truth, and the substance of fruition. It did not run out in voice, or undecent Eruptions; but filled the Soul, as God does the Universe, silently and without noise. It was refreshing, but composed; like the pleasantnesse of youth tempered with the gravity of age; or the mirth of a festival managed with the silence of contemplation.

And on the other side for Sorrow. Had any losse or disaster made but room for grief, it would have moved according to [Page 27] the severe allowances of Prudence, and the proportions of the provocation. It would not have sallyed out into com­plaint, or loudnesse, nor spread it self upon the face, and writ sad stories upon the forehead. No wringing of the hands, knocking the breast, or wishing ones self unborn; all which are but the ceremo­nies of sorrow, the pomp and ostentation of an effeminate grief: which speak not so much the greatnesse of the misery, as the smalnesse of the mind. Tears may spoil the eyes, but not wash away the af­fliction. Sighs may exhaust the man, but not eject the burthen. Sorrow then would have been as silent as Thought, as severe as Philosophy. It would have rest­ed in inward sences, tacit dislikes: and the whole scene of it been transacted in sad and silent reflections.

Then again for Hope. Though in­deed the fulnesse and affluence of mans enjoyments in the state of Innocence, might seem to leave no place for hope, in respect of any further addition, but onely [Page 28] of the prorogation, and future continu­ance of what already he possessed. Yet doubtlesse, God who made no faculty, but also provided it with a proper object, up­on which it might exercise, and lay out it self, even in its greatest innocence, did then exercise mans hopes with the expectations of a better Paradise, or a more intimate admission to himself. For it is not ima­ginable, that Adam could fix upon such poor, thin enjoyments, as riches, pleasure, and the gayeties of an animal life. Hope indeed was alwayes the Anchor of the Soul, yet certainly it was not to catch or fasten upon such mud. And if as the A­postle sayes, no man hopes for that which he sees, much lesse could Adam then hope for such things as he saw through.

And lastly, for the affection of fear. It was then the instrument of caution, not of anxiety; a guard, and not a torment to the breast that had it. It is now indeed an unhappiness, the disease of the Soul, it flies at a shadow, and makes more dangers then it avoids; it weakens the Judge­ment, [Page 29] and betrayes the succours of rea­son. So hard is it to tremble, and not to erre, and to hit the mark with a shaking hand. Then it fixed upon him that is onely to be feared, God: and yet with a filial fear, which at the same time both fears, and loves. It was awe without a­mazement, dread without distraction. There was then a beauty even in this very palenesse. It was the colour of devotion, giving a lustre to reverence, and a glosse to humility.

Thus did the Passions then act with­out any of their present jarres, combats, or repugnances; all moving with the beauty of uniformity, and the stilnesse of composure. Like a well-governed Ar­my, not for fighting, but for rank and or­der. I confesse the Scripture does not ex­presly attribute these several endow­ments to Adam in his first estate. But all that I have said, and much more, may be drawn out of that short Aphorisme, God made man upright, Eccles. 7. 29. And since the opposite Weaknesses now infest the [Page 30] nature of Man faln, if we will be true to the rule of contraries, we must conclude that those perfections were the lot of man innocent.

Now from this so exact and regular com­posure of the faculties, all moving in their due place, each striking in its proper time, there arose by natural consequence the crowning perfection of all, A good Con­science. For as in the Body, when the principal parts, as the Heart and Liver, do [...]heir offices, and all the inferiour, smaller vessels act orderly, and duly, there arises a sweet enjoyment upon the whole, which we call Health. So in the Soul, when the supreme faculties of the Will and U [...]derstanding move regularly, the inferiour Passions and Affections follow­ing, there arises a serenity and compla­cency upon the whole Soul, infinitely be­yond the greatest bodily pleasures, the highest quintessence and Elixars of world­ly delights. There is in this case a kind of fragrancy, and spiritual perfume upon the Conscience; much like what Isaac [Page 31] spoke of his sons garments, That the scent of them was like the smell of a field which the Lord had blessed. Such a freshnesse and flavour is there upon the Soul, when dai­ly watered with the actions of a vertuous life. Whatsoever is pure, is also plea­sant.

Having thus surveyed the Image of God in the Soul of Man, we are not to omit now those characters of Majesty that God imprinted upon the Body. He drew some traces of his Image upon this also; as much as a spiritual Substance could be pictured upon a corporeal. As for that Sect of the Anthropomorphites, that from hence ascribe to God the figure of a Man, with eyes, hands, feet, and the like, they are too ridiculous to deserve a con­futation. They would seem to draw this impiety from the letter of the Scri­pture sometimes speaking of God in this manner. Absurdly, as if the mercy of Scripture-expression ought to warrant the blasphemy of our Opinions. And not rather shew us, that God condescends [Page 32] to us, onely to draw us to himself; and clothes himself in our likenesse, onely to win us to his own. The practice of the Papists is much of the same nature, in their absurd, and impious picturing of God Al­mighty: but the wonder in them is the lesse, since the Image of a Deity may be a proper object for that, which is but the Image of a Religion. But to the pur­pose: Adam was then no lesse glorious in his externals; he had a beautiful bo­dy, as well as an immortal Soul. The whole compound was like a well-built Temple, stately without, and sacred with­in. The Elements were at perfect union and agreement in his body; and their contrary qualities served not for the disso­lution of the compound, but the variety of the composure. Galen, who had no more Divinity, then what his Physick taught him, barely upon the considerati­on of this so exact frame of the body, challenges any one upon an hundred years study, to find, how any the least fibre, or most minute particle might be more [Page 33] commodiously placed, either for the ad­vantages of use, or comlinesse. His sta­ture erect, and tending upwards to his Centre; his countenance majestick and comely, with the lustre of a native beauty, that scorned the poor assistances of Art, or the attempts of Imitation. His body of so much quicknesse and agility, that it did not onely contain, but also represent the Soul: for we might well suppose, that where God did deposite so rich a Jewel, he would sutably adorn the Case. It was a fit work-house for spritely, vivid facul­ties to exercise and exert themselves in. A fit tabernacle for an immortal Soul, not onely to dwell in, but to contemplate up­on: where it might see the World with­out travel; it being a lesser Scheme of the Creation, Nature contracted, a little Cos­mography or map of the Universe. Nei­ther was the body then subject to distem­pers, to die by piece-meal, and languish under Coughs, Catarrhs, or Consumpti­ons. Adam knew no disease, so long as temperance from the forbidden fruit secu­red [Page 34] him. Nature was his Physician: and Innocence, and Abstinence would have kept him healthful to immortality.

Now the Use of this point might be va­rious, but at present it shall be onely this; To re-mind us of the irreparable losse that we sustained in our first Parents, to shew us of how fair a portion Adam disinherited his whole posterity by one single prevari­cation. Take the picture of a man in the greennesse and vivacity of his youth, and in the latter date and declensions of his drooping years, and you will scarce know it to belong to the same person: there would be more art to discern, then at first to draw it. The same, and greater is the difference between Man innocent and faln. He is as it were a new kind or spe­cies; the plague of sin has even altered his nature, and eat into his very essentials. The Image of God is wiped out, the crea­tures have shook off his yoke, renounced his Soveraignty, and revolted from his dominion. Distempers and Diseases have shattered the excellent frame of his body; [Page 35] and by a new dispensation, Immortality is swallowed up of Mortality. The same disaster, and decay also has invaded his spi­rituals: the Passions rebell, every faculty would usurp and rule; and there are so many governours, that there can be no government. The light within us is be­come darknesse; and the Understanding, that should be eyes to the blind faculty of the Will, is blind it self, and so brings all the inconveniences, that attend a blind follower under the conduct of a blind guide. He that would have a clear, ocu­lar demonstration of this, let him reflect upon that numerous litter of strange, sense-lesse, absurd Opinions, that crawle about the world, to the disgrace of Rea­son, and the unanswerable reproach of a broken Intellect.

The two great perfections, that both adorn, and exercise mans understanding, are Philosophy, and Religion: For the first of these; take it even amongst the Professors of it, where it most flourished, and we shall sind the very first notions of com­mon [Page 36] sense debauched by them. For there have been such, as have asserted, That there is no such thing in the world as Motion: That Contradictions may be true. There has not been wanting one, that has denied Snow to be white. Such a stupidity or wantonnesse had seized upon the most raised Wits, that it might be doubted, whether the Philo­sophers, or the Owles, of Athens were the quicker sighted. But then for Religion; What prodigious, monstrous, mishapen births has the Reason of faln man produ­ced! It is now almost six thousand years, that far the greatest part of the World has had no other Religion but Idolatry. And Idolatry certainly is the first-born of Fol­ly, the great and leading paradox, nay, the very abridgement and summe total of all absurdities. For is it not strange, that a rationall man should worship an Oxe, nay the image of an Oxe? that he should fawn upon his Dog? bow himself before a Cat? adore Leeks and Garlick, and shed penitential tears at the smell of a deified Onyon? Yet so did the [Page 37] Egyptians, once the famed masters of all arts and learning. And to go a little fur­ther; we have yet a stranger instance in Isa. 44. 14. A man hews him down a tree in the wood, and part of it he burns, in the 16. ver. and in the 17. ver. with the residue thereof he maketh a God. With one part he furnishes his Chimney, with the other his Chappel. A strange thing, that the fire must first consume this part, and then burn Incense to that. As if there was more Divinity in one end of the stick, then in the other; or, as if it could be graved and pain­ted omnipotent, or the nails and the hammer could give it an Apotheosis. Brief­ly, so great is the change, so deplorable the degradation of our nature, that where­as before we bore the Image of God, we now retain onely the Image of Men.

In the last place, we learn from hence the Excellency of Christian Religion, in that it is the great and onely means that God has sanctified and designed to repair the breaches of Humanity, to set faln man upon his legs again, to clarifie his Reason, [Page 38] to rectifie his Will, and to compose and regulate his affections. The whole busi­nesse of our Redemption is in short onely to rub over the defaced copy of the Crea­tion, to re-print Gods Image upon the Soul, and (as it were) to set forth Nature in a second, and a fairer edition.

The recovery of which lost Image, as it is Gods pleasure to command, and our duty to endeavour, so it is in his power onely to effect.

To whom be rendred and ascribed, as is most due, all praise, might, majesty and domi­nion, both now and for evermore. Amen.
FINIS.

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