ct overcometh the sight, according to that axiom in philosophy:
_fulgorem solis ferre non potes, multo magis creatoris_; if thou canst not
endure the sunbeams, how canst thou endure that fulgor and brightness of
him that made the sun? The sun itself and all that we can imagine, are but
shadows of it, 'tis _visio praecellens_, as [6320]Austin calls it, the
quintessence of beauty this, "which far exceeds the beauty of heavens, sun
and moon, stars, angels, gold and silver, woods, fair fields, and
whatsoever is pleasant to behold." All those other beauties fail, vary, are
subject to corruption, to loathing; [6321]"But this is an immortal vision,
a divine beauty, an immortal love, an indefatigable love and beauty, with
sight of which we shall never be tired nor wearied, but still the more we
see the more we shall covet him." [6322]"For as one saith, where this
vision is, there is absolute beauty; and where is that beauty, from the
same fountain comes all pleasure and happiness; neither can beauty,
pleasure, happiness, be separated from his vision or sight, or his vision,
from beauty, pleasure, happiness." In this life we have but a glimpse of
this beauty and happiness: we shall hereafter, as John saith, see him as he
is: thine eyes, as Isaiah promiseth, xxxiii. 17. "shall behold the king in
his glory," then shall we be perfectly enamoured, have a full fruition of
it, desire, [6323]behold and love him alone as the most amiable and fairest
object, or _summum bonum_, or chiefest good.

This likewise should we now have done, had not our will been corrupted; and
as we are enjoined to love God with all our heart, and all our soul: for to
that end were we born, to love this object, as [6324]Melancthon
discourseth, and to enjoy it. "And him our will would have loved and sought
alone as our _summum bonum_, or principal good, and all other good things
for God's sake: and nature, as she proceeded from it, would have sought
this fountain; but in this infirmity of human nature this order is
disturbed, our love is corrupt:" and a man is like that monster in
[6325]Plato, composed of a Scylla, a lion and a man; we are carried away
headlong with the torrent of our affections: the world, and that infinite
variety of pleasing objects in it, do so allure and enamour us, that we
cannot so much as look towards God, seek him, or think on him as we should:
we cannot, saith Austin, _Rempub._ _coelestem cogitare_, we cannot contain
ourselves from them,