is expressly said to be the end of having our fruit unto holiness; and as such we are bid to direct our actions unto it; to believe in Christ unto everlasting life, 1 Tim. i. 16. to do good, to this end, that we may lay hold upon eternal life, 1 Tim. vi. 18, 19. to look unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, &c. Heb. xii. 2. And therefore heaven is described to be the Christian Canaan, to which we are to direct all our steps, whilst we are travelling through this world, Heb. xi. 14, 15, 16. And the whole life of a Christian is expressed by seeking it: Matt. vi. 33. Heb. xiii. 14. Col. iii. 1. And the incorruptible crown is affirmed to be as much the end of the race of the Christian life, as those corruptible crowns were of the races in the Olympic games, 1 Cor. ix. 25. For it is to eternal glory that we are called, 1 Pet. v. 10. 2 Thess. ii. 14. and in the discharge of all that duty whereunto we are called, we are to look to this blessed hope, as our great end and encouragement, Tit. ii. 13.

This I have the more largely insisted upon, because of a great mistake that many persons lay under in this matter; which is, that the glory of God is the only ultimate end of a Christian, and that this is a distinct end from heaven; the first of which, I confess, is very true, but the last absolutely false. That the glory of God is the last end of a Christian is evident from those texts which bid us do all to the glory of God, 1 Cor. x. 31. and which make the glory of God to be the point in which all the fruits of righteousness do concentre, Phil. i. 11. which propose this as the end of all religious performances, that God in all things may be glorified,

1 Pet. iv. 11. and affirm, that it is to this purpose that we are chosen to be Christians, that we should be to the praise of his glory, Eph. i. 12. But that the glory of God is no distinct end from our being made partakers of the happiness of heaven, is as evident from hence, that this glory consists not in any thing that we can add or contribute to him, whose essential glory is so immense and secure, that there is nothing we can do, can either increase or diminish it; and there is no other glory can redound to him from any thing without, but what is the reflection of his own natural rays. He understands himself too well, to value himself either the more or the less for the praises or dispraises of his creatures. For he is enough of stage and theatre to himself, and hath the same satisfying prospect of his own glory, in the midst of all the loud blasphemies of hell, as among the perpetual hallelujahs of heaven. And having so, it cannot be supposed that he should enjoin us to praise and glorify him, for the sake of any good or advantage that can accrue to himself by it, or out of any other pleasure he takes in hearing himself applauded and commended by us, than he doth in any other act that is decent and reasonable in its own nature; but it is therefore he will have us praise him, because he knows it is for our good, and highly conduces, as it is a most reasonable action, to the perfection and happiness of our reasonable natures; because our praising him naturally excites us to imitate him, and to transcribe into our own natures those adorable perfections which we do so admire and extol in his. So that to pursue our own perfection and happiness, is to glorify God according to his own design and intention; who re

quires us to glorify him for no other purpose, but that thereby we may glorify ourselves. And indeed our happiness is God's glory, even as all other worthy effects are the glory of their causes. It is he that gives being to it, and consequently he that is glorified by it. It being nothing but the resplendency of his own almighty goodness, or his own outstretched rays shining back upon himself. And therefore we aim at God's glory just as he himself doth, when we aim to be as happy as he would have us; that is, when we pursue heaven, and cooperate with his infinite goodness, whose great design is to advance us to that blessed condition, in which we shall glorify him for ever, and be everlasting monuments of his overflowing benignity. So that whether we call our last end heaven, or the glory of God, it is all but one and the same thing; since by obtaining heaven we shall glorify him according to his own design and intention. And this, I think, may suffice to shew what is the true ultimate end of the Christian life. But then,

II. It will be yet further necessary, for our clearing the way to the design in hand, to inquire what kind of happiness this is; which when we understand, we shall be the better able to comprehend what duties or means are necessary for the obtaining it. And this inquiry will be easily resolved, by considering the nature of those for whom it was prepared and intended. For all happiness consists in the free and vigorous exercise of the faculties of nature, about objects that are suitable to themselves. There is indeed a privative happiness, which is nothing but indolence, or freedom from pain and misery; and this consists not so much in the exercise, as

in the rest and quiet of the faculties. And herein the soft and restive Epicureans placed the whole happiness of a man: in which, I confess, they would not be very much mistaken, if there were no happiness belonging to a man beyond that animal and sensual one, in which the disciples of this atheistical philosopher placed their chief good. For the greatest part of the pleasures of sense, indeed, are merely privations of misery, and short reprieves from the griefs and troubles of a wretched life. For what else is our ease and rest, but only the removal of our pain and weariness? which being removed, the pleasure is presently over, and then we grow weary again of our rest and ease; till pain and weariness return and sweeten them, and give them a fresh and new relish. For when we are weary of rest, we are fain to recreate ourselves with action; and when we are weary of action, to refresh ourselves with rest; and so round again in the same circle. Thus the greatest part of the pleasure of eating and drinking consists in assuaging the pain of our hunger and thirst. For when this is over, you see the pleasure ceases; and till it returns again, every fresh morsel is but a new load to a tired digestion. So that, in short, the greatest part of those sensual felicities which we do here enjoy, are only short intermissions of the pains and uneasinesses of a wretched life. But if there were no other happiness belonging to a man, but what consists in not being sensible of misery, it were much more desirable to be a stone than a man; and the only way for him to be perfectly happy would be, to deprive himself of all sense and perception.

It is true, that which is positive in our happiness can never be perfectly enjoyed by us, without a per

fect indolence and insensibility of pain; it being impossible for us to have a perfect sense of any thing, whilst we have the least touch or feeling of its contrary. But were happiness nothing else but a non-perception of misery, it would have no positive essence of reality of its own, which is directly contrary to all human experience. For we plainly feel, that our happiness hath in it, not only a rest from evil, but a grateful motion to good: and that as our pain and misery consist in an acute and sensible perception of such things as are most ungrateful to our natures; so pleasure or satisfaction consist in a vigorous perception of the contrary. So that besides the not being miserable, (which is not so properly an essential part of happiness, as a necessary disposition to it, without which the faculties of our natures will be indisposed to relish and perceive it,) there is a positive happiness, which, as I said before, consists in a constant, free, and vigorous exercise of the faculties about such objects as are most convenient and suitable to their natures. For happiness in the general includes perfection and pleasure, both which are necessarily included in such an exercise of the faculties: for then the faculties are perfect, when they are freely, constantly, and vigorously employed about such objects as are most congruous to their several natures; when they are recovered from all indispositions, whether natural or moral, to those proper motions and exercises for which they were framed; and do freely, constantly, and without any clog or interruption direct all their courses towards such objects as are their natural And then the faculties are most pleased and delighted too, when they are most vigorously

centres.