To which the Scripture doth attest, in those expressions where ‘tis said, that a good man is satisfied from himself; in the fear of the Lord is strong confidence.2 The righteous is bold as a Lion. Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee. That the fruits of righteousness shall be peace, and the effect of righteousness, quietness and assurance for ever. That tribulation and anguish shall be upon (Rom. 2. 9, 10) every soul that doth evil; but to him that doth good, glory and honour and peace, serenity and composedness of mind, peace that passeth all understanding, joy that is (Gal. 5. 22) unspeakable and full of glory.
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Naturally; as these things are considered under the notion of duties, so they are the most genuine fruits and effects of Religion; which doth oblige us to them, and enable us for them.
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Religion doth oblige men to joy and peace and confidence. The very Heathens have acknowledged these to be such things, as all good men are bound to upon the account of duty. And the Scripture doth abound in precepts to this purpose. Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice. Commit thy ways unto the Lord, and he shall bring it to pass. Be carful for nothing. Cast thy burden upon him, as knowing that he takes care for thee.
These kind of duties do formally and in the very essence of them, contain in them the nature of happiness.
And on the contrary, the opposite vices do contain in them the true nature of punishment, and render men formally miserable. Such a man must needs be unhappy, who lives under the power of continual anxieties, sorrow, fears, diffidence, selfwill, malice, envy, &c. of several of which, that may be said which the Poet speaks concerning one of them. Invidiâ Siculi non invenêre Tyranni Tormentum majus.
The Sicilian Tyrants, who were of old famous for inventing engines of Torture, as that of Phalaris his Bull, were not able to find out any kind of Torment for the body, equal to that which some of these vices do occasion to the mind.
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And as Religion doth oblige us to, so likewise doth it enable us for this kind of happiness, and that upon a two-fold account.
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From the general nature of Religion and Virtue considered in it self.
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From the most natural effects and consequences of it.
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From the general nature of Religion considered in it self. All kind of vertues containing in their very essence, these kind of inward felicities, either Formally or Virtually: The very foundation of happiness and misery, reward and punishment, being laid in the very nature of these things themselves. That natural appetite, whereby men are carried out after a state of happiness, is for the nature of it so universal and radical, so closely fixed to our first principles; and for the degree of it so ardent and impetuous, that ‘tis not possible for men to be disappointed in it, without a very quick sensation, and some proportionable trouble for it. The more eager men are in their desires, the more sensible must they be of gain or loss. Now all such courses as have a natural tendency to the satisfying of this appetite, are upon that account parts of our happiness. And on the other side, those which are cross to it, must needs make us miserable. And if it be so (as I have already proved) that our happiness must consist in such a similitude and resemblance to the supreme good as we are capable of; it must hence follow, that Religion is formally happiness. He that lives under the power of Godlike dispositions in his mind, and doth accordingly exercise them in the course of his life, may be said eo nomine to be a happy man: Holiness and Happiness being but two distinct names for the same thing. I shewed before that the true nature of pleasure was founded in a suitableness betwixt the faculty and the object: From whence it will follow, that reasonable actions have in them a suitableness to reasonable minds; And the more virtuous and religious any man is, the more delight must such a man take in such kind of actions. That man who hath a just sense of his own impotent dependent condition, and how much it is for the interest of the world, and the good of all humane affairs, that there is a supreme Governour, who is infinitely wise, and powerful, and gracious, and how reasonable it is that men should demean themselves towards him suitably to this belief: He that is convinced how necessary it is for the promoting his own private, as well as the publick wellfare, that men be forward to do all good offices of justice and friendship towards one another: I say, he that is under this conviction, must needs find much satisfaction and pleasure in such kind of actions. As for first Table duties which consist in acquaintance with God, communion with him, in meditating upon his wisdom, goodness, power, in affiance, love, reverence; if these were not acts of the highest pleasure, they would never have been appointed for the happiness of our future state in heaven. And as for second Table duties, what greater pleasure and satisfaction can there be to a generous mind, than to do worthy things, to be employed about acts of justice and charity and beneficence, to promote publick peace and good-will amongst men? Eating and drinking is not a more proper satisfaction to those natural appetites of hunger and thirst, than the doing of good is to the rational inclinations of a good man. As all light, and love, and joy are from above, from the father of lights; so all darkness, sorrow, fear, disquiet, must be from below, from the Prince of darkness. Wicked men are well compared to the troubled sea, which cannot rest, but by reason of its being tossed to and fro3 by contrary winds, is still casting up mire and dirt. He that lives under the servitude of lusts and passions, must always be in an unquiet restless condition; because such masters can never be satisfied in any one service they employ us about; besides the interfering and contrariety of those employments which they will exact from us. Vice is multiform, scelera dissident, and therefore must they needs be inconsistent with rest and quiet. One principal requisite to a state of serenity of mind, doth consist in an uniform agreement about that chief end which we are to pursue, together with the means conducing to it; whereas they that have many and contrary things in design, must needs be distracted about them. The soul that cannot fix it self upon the enjoyment of God, who is the only all-sufficient Good, and consequently the only center of Rest, must be like those disconsolate spirits, which our Saviour speaks of, who being4 cast out of their habitations, were put to wander up and down through desart places, seeking rest, but finding none.
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From the most natural effects and consequences of Religion, in respect of that inward confidence, peace, joy, which must follow the conscience of well-doing; insomuch, that there is not any kind of tree which doth more naturally produce its proper fruits, than the habits of virtue do bring forth joy and serenity in the mind. When a man shall sit down and take a serious review of what he hathdone, and finds it to be most agreeable both to his duty and interest, from hence there must needs arise an inward satisfaction of mind. And on the other side, a fountain doth not more naturally send out waters, than vice doth punishment and misery. Nor is this any meer notion or fancy, which some severe melancholy Divines would impose upon the world; but it is most agreeable to those natural sentiments which the very Heathen have had and do frequently mention: Seneca in particular; Res severa est verum gaudium; unde sit, interrogas? dicam, ex bona conscientia, ex honestis conciliis, ex rectis actionibus. All solid comfort must arise from a good conscience, and honest actions.
I appeal to the experience of all considering men, whether this doth not appear to them, that the generality of those who live most pleasantly in the world, are the most religious and virtuous part of mankind; such as know how to regulate themselves in the fruition of what they have, how to avoid the extremities on either hand, to prevent those mixtures of guilt and fear, which are apt to sowre and imbitter all our enjoyments? Whether lawful pleasures, which a man may reflect upon without any sense of guilt, be not much to be preferred before others? Whether those intellectual delights that flow from the conscience of well-doing, be not much better than any sinful sensual pleasure? Whether the doing of any worthy action, such as all good men must think well of and commend, do not afford a more solid lasting pleasure than can be had from any sensible enjoyments? Whether any thing can be more suitable, and consequently delightful to a generous mind, than an opportunity of being grateful to those by whom a man hath been obliged; the making of an ample return for the favours he hath received? Whether that noble way of conquest, overcoming evil with good, surprizing an enemy by kindness, when we have it in our power to be severe towards him, be not a far greater pleasure than that which is by some counted the sweetest of all other things, Revenge?
Religion doth likewise advance the soul to an holy confidence, concerning the Divine favour and good-will towards us. If our hearts condemn us not, we have confidence towards God. A good conscience will set us above all those fears and doubts and cares, whereby the lives of men are rendered uncomfortable. When in decrepit age a man cannot find comfort in other things, when the grinders shall be few, and appetite cease, then will this be a continual feast. The most rational, solid, sublime, complete, durable delights, of all others, do flow from the conscience of well-doing. ‘Tis a chief part this, of that heaven which we enjoy upon earth, and ‘tis likewise a principal part of that happiness which we hope to enjoy in heaven. Next to the beatifical vision and fruition of God, is the happiness of a good conscience, and next to that the society of Saints and Angels.
Whereas on the other side, he that lives under the sense of guilt, and a consciousness of his obligation to punishment, must needs be destitute of all inward peace and comfort: Such an one can have nothing to support him, with patience, under a state of affliction in this world, nor can he have any rational grounds to expect a better condition hereafter; and therefore must needs have very dreadful apprehensions of dying, and be all his life time subject to bondage through the fear of death. And that man must needs be very miserable, who can neither have true joy in life, nor any hope in death.
This the Heathen Philosophers have acknowledged, That there is always a secret dread which doth accompany guilt. So Seneca in particular, speaking of wicked men, he saith, tantùm metuunt quantùm5 nocent, that such men must have fears proportionable to their guilt. And a little after, dat paenas quisquis expect at, quisquis autem meruit expect at; those men do really suffer punishment, who live under the expectation of it, and whoever doth any thing to deserve it must needs expect it. ‘Tis not easie to express the torment which those men undergo, —quos diri conscia facti Mens habet attonitos, & surdo verbere caedit, Occultum quatiente animo tortore flagellum. —Mens sibi conscia facti Praemetuens, adhibet stimulos, terretque flagellis.
‘Tis the unsupportableness of this, that many times doth cause men in the bitterness of their souls, to chuse strangling and death rather than life. The Heathens do set forth such a mans condition, by the fiction of Furies continually haunting and scourging him: But Zophar doth better describe it, where he saith, Terrors are (Job 20. 25, 26) upon him, all darkness is hid in his secret places, a fire not blown shall consume him.
Though some men are so hardened against the sense of guilt, as to go on in their sinful courses, without feeling any of this remorse for them; yet is their peace so far from being a priviledg, that it doth render their condition more desperate, because it supposes them to have a reprobate mind, and such a stupidity upon6 their consciences, as makes them past feeling, being seared as it were with an hot iron. Which though it may preserve them from those present lashes which others are tormented with, yet doth it argue their conditions to be more remediless and desperate. All the difference is, the one is sick of a Calenture or burning Feaver, the other of a Lethargy or Apoplexy; the former more painful for the present, but both of them very dangerous, only the latter less capable of remedy than the former.
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