The sinners guyde A vvorke contayning the whole regiment of a Christian life, deuided into two bookes: vvherein sinners are reclaimed from the by-path of vice and destruction, and brought vnto the high-way of euerlasting happinesse. Compiled in the Spanish tongue, by the learned and reuerend diuine, F. Lewes of Granada. Since translated into Latine, Italian, and French. And nowe perused, and digested into English, by Francis Meres, Maister of Artes, and student in diuinitie.

Of the seauenth priuiledge of Vertue, that is, of the true libertie, which the righteous haue and reioyce in: and of the misery and vnknowne seruitude and bon∣dage, in which sinners liue. CHAP. XIX.

OF all the priuiledges and prerogatiues hetherto spoken of,* 1.1 but especially of the second & fourth, that is, of the grace of the holy Ghost, and of the Diuine cōsolation, another preheminence doth arise no lesse admirable, which the righteous en∣ioy: and that is the true liberty of the soule, which the Sonne of God brought into this world, of which priuiledge he hath ob∣tained the name of the Redeemer of mankind. Because he hath redeemed man, and hath freed him from that wretched & mi∣serable seruitude, in which he liued; and brought him into true libertie. This is one of the especiallest blessings, which Christ brought into this world; one of the most excellent benefits of the Gospell; one of the most noble effects of the holy Ghost: For where there is the Spirit of the Lord,* 1.2 there is libertie, sayth the Apostle. To be briefe, this is one of the richest rewards, which

in thys world are promised to the worshippers of the true God. Thys libertie the Lord promised to certaine, that were willing to serue him:* 1.3 If (saith he) yee continue in my word, yee are verilie my Disciples, and shall knowe the truth, and the truth shall make you free: that is, it shall giue vnto you true libertie. They answered him, Wee be Abrahams seede, and were neuer bounde to any man: vvhy sayest thou then, ye shall be made free? Iesus answered them, Verily, verily, I say vnto you, that whosoeuer committeth sinne, is the seruant of sinne. And the seruant abideth not in the house for euer: but the sonne abideth for euer. If the sonne therefore shall make you free,* 1.4 yee shall be free in deede. In which words the Lord plainely intimateth vnto vs that there are two kinds of liberty; one false and in a show, the other true and reall. False liberty is proper vnto them, who haue their bodies free, but their soules captiua∣ted, and subiect to the tiranny of their own passions and sinnes: as was the soule of great Alexander; who when hee was the Lord of the whole world, he was the seruant of his owne vices. But true liberty is proper vnto them, who haue their soules free from all these tirannies, although their bodies be somtimes free, and sometimes bond and captiuated: as was the soule of the Apostle, who although he was captiue, and holden in bonds, yet in spirit he mounted vp to heauen, and by the doctrine of his letters he freed the whole world.

* 1.5 The reason why this liberty is called properly liberty, and not that other, is this: because as among the two essentiall parts of man, the soule is much more noble then the body, yea, it is as it were the whole man, the body is no other thing, then a mat∣ter or subiect, in which the soule is included: so he truly is to be called free, who hath his more principall part free: but hee is falsely called free, who hath his soule captiue & bond, although he carrieth about his body freely whether so euer he pleaseth.

¶ Of the seruitude in which wicked men liue.

IF any man shall aske me, whence is this bondage, of which we speake? I say that it is a seruitude and captiuity vnder the most terrible,* 1.6 most direfull, and most cruell Tyrant of any, that may be named; that is, vnder Sinne. For amongst all the most abhominable and dreadfull things that be in the world, the tor∣ment

of hell is most dreadfull and abhominable: yet much more dreadfull and abhominable is Sinne, which is the cause of this torment, and also of this seruitude: by which sinners are made seruants and bondslaues, as you haue vnderstoode by the words of our Lord before aleadged; Whosoeuer committeth sinne, is the seruant of sinne.

What seruitude then can be more miserable then this? Ney∣ther is he onely a seruant of sinne, who committeth sinne: but he is a slaue vnto the perswaders and procurers of sinne; as are the deuill, the world, and his owne flesh, corrupted of the same sinne,* 1.7 and he is a seruant vnto all other inordinate desires, which proceede of the flesh. For he that is the seruant of the sonne, is also a seruant of the father. And it is confessed of all, that these three are the fathers of sinne; and therefore they are called ene∣mies to the soule, because they bring & procure great mischiefe to the soule: as that is, that they make it a slaue & a Captiue, and deliuer it into the hands of this cruell Tyrant. And although all these three doe conspire to this end, yet they worke by diuers meanes. For the two first are serued of the third, which is the flesh, as another Eue to deceiue Adam: or as an instrument very fit,* 1.8 to carry and draw vs into all euill. For this cause the Apostle doth more manifestly call the flesh sinne: putting the effect for the cause; for it is it which pricketh forwards to all kind of sin. For the same cause the Diuines call it the tinder & touchwood of sinne, that is, the meate and nourishment of sinne. By a com∣mon name it is called Sensuality,* 1.9 Flesh, or Concupiscence: which also is called by a name more knowne Fleshly, or sensuall desire, whence all the perturbations of the minde spring, in as much as it is corrupt, and made disordered through sinne: it is the motioner, mouer, and picker forwards to all sinne. There∣fore also the two other enemies take singuler aduantage of the flesh, and her appetites, that they may more strongly assault and wrong vs.* 1.10 Hence it is that Saint Basill sayth, that the espe∣ciall weapons with which the deuill fighteth against vs, are our owne desires. For the vehemency of our affection seeketh by right and wrong, to enioy those things, that it lusteth after: nei∣ther maketh any regard, although it be forbidden by the law of God, and from such an affection sinnes doe arise.

Such an appetite therfore, is one of the most cruell Tyrants, which man being a sinner is subiect vnto: or, as the Apostle speaketh,* 1.11 vnder which he is sold. Hee calleth him sold vnder sinne, because his sensuall appetite is made so mighty, that it carrieth him as a bondslaue, whether so euer it listeth.

But what is more lamentable, then to see a man, who hath a soule made to the image and likenes of God, illuminated with heauenly light; and an vnderstanding by which hee ascendeth aboue all things created, vntill it find out God himselfe: & yet notwithstanding that hee should contemne and despise all this his nobility and excellency, and be subiect and gouerned after a certaine furious and frantick maner, of his beastly appetite, & to be corrupted of sin, and moreouer to be led about, to be moued, and driuen forwards & backwards of the deuill? What I pray thee at the length is to be expected of this gouernment, but ru∣ine, downfall, destruction, & incomparable mischiefes? But that thou mayst see more manifestly the filthines of this seruitude & bondage, I will illustrate it by a certaine example. Imagine that a man had married a woman of so great beauty,* 1.12 nobility, & wise∣dom: as could possibly fall into any of this sexe, & being happy through this marriage, should haue a Mayd-seruant a Witch, or an Inchaunter, with whom he is besotted by some preposterous meanes, and so dotes on this in chaunting drudge, that forsaking his owne wife, he giueth himselfe a pray vnto his seruant, vsing her in steed of his wife, eating, sleeping, and conferring with her, acting & executing all his busines with her, and with her prodi∣gally consuming and spending all his riches in banquets, sports, and surfetting, and after such like maner: yea, not content with these, to come to that dotage and folly, that he forceth his owne wife to wayte on this drudge, and to serue her in all things as a slaue, which she shall commaund her. Who would think that a man should euer come to this madnes? And if he shall so fall, how shall he be rayled vpon, and condemned of those that be wise? How great shall the hate and indignation of all be against this seruant? And on the contrary part, how great will the moane and commiseration be of all towards that good and no∣ble woman? With how many sighs will her kinsfolke deplore the madnes of her husband? This thing at the first view doth

seeme very shamefull: yet much more shamefull, and filthy is that, which heere wee speake of. For wee must knowe that these two women, that is, the spirit and the flesh are found in our soule: which the Diuines doe call by another name, the superiour part,* 1.13 and the inferiour part of the soule. The superi∣our part is that, wherein the reason and the will are, which are naturall lights, with which God in the creation hath marked that part, of which part there is so great beauty and noblenes, that by reason of it man is sayd to haue the image of God, to be capable of God, and to be the brother of Angels. This is that noble woman, which God hath ioyned and coupled to man as his wife, with whom he should leade his life, ordering all his af∣faires by her direction, that is, by the instruction of her heauen∣lie light. In the inferiour part is the sensuall appetite, of which we haue lately spoken; which is giuen vnto man, to desire all things necessary for his life, and for conseruation of his kinde. This therefore, as a Steward receaueth al things by limitation and order appoynted of reason, and layeth out, and disburseth the goods according to the will of the maister and Lord.* 1.14 This ap∣petite is that Hand-mayde, of which wee spake a little before, which because it hath not the light of reason, it is not made that it should gouerne or rule, but that it should be gouerned and ruled. These things being thus, vnhappy is that man, who com∣meth to that madnes, to be giuen as a pray to the loue, and lust of this naughty woman, which casting reason aside, by which she ought to be gouerned, commeth to that malapertnes and headstrongnes, that shee will rule and dominere ouer reason: doing all the mischiefe that this sawcie and peruerse drudge will, following and prosecuting all her appetites, all her desires, and lusts, as well carnall, as sensuall. For we see many men so carnall, vnbrideled, and subiect to the lusts of their owne hart, that in all theyr actions like vnto beasts, they obey this malapert and froward woman, without respect eyther of law or reason. What other thing is this, then to giue the whole rule of the life, into the hands of an abiect seruant, which is the flesh, by surfet∣ting in all the delights, sports, banquettings, and pleasures of this world, and despising the counsailes and aduices of Reason, being the noble and lawfull wife?

But that is worser, and lesse tollerable, that it sufficeth not to haue bestowed this rule and dominion vpon the seruant: but also this free and noble Lady is compelled to serue her owne seruant, being most base, vile, and abiect; by consuming nights and dayes in her seruice, and in doing all that shee commaun∣deth, and which her insatiable and inordinate appetite desireth. Wherefore when man is busied,* 1.15 and his reason, and all his vn∣derstanding occupied about these inuentions, as are the orna∣ments of the body, the pride and statelines of buildings, the cu∣riosity of houshold-stuffe, the variety of meates, and the multi∣tude of dainty dishes: what other thing doth he, then draw the soule from the spirituall exercises of her nobility, and make it a seruant, a cooke, & a slaue vnto her, that ought to be her seruant in all obsequiousnes?* 1.16 A carnall man enamoured with the loue of any woman, that he may ouerthrow her chastity, when hee hath bestowed and imployed all the strength and sinnowes of his reason and vnderstanding in wryting Letters, in compozing Poems, in making loue Verses, in laying traps, and in other en∣deauours, which are required to that Art; what other thing doth he (if we confesse the truth) then that hee forceth the Lady to serue the Hand-mayde: whilst he spendeth that diuine and ce∣lestiall light in inuenting and deuising meanes, by which he may satisfie the appetite of his vild flesh?* 1.17 When as King Dauid was wholy occupied in deuising meanes to couer his fault with Ber∣saba, in sending her husband to the Army, by inuiting him to supper, by making him drunk, by giuing him dangerous Letters written to this end, that he innocent man should be slaine; what other plotted this notable Stratageme, but reason and vnder∣standing? And who pricked forward Reason to this complot, but the peeuish Flesh, that shee might hasten the wickednes, whereby she might more safely and more conueniently enioy her pleasures?* 1.18 Seneca, although an Ethnick, did abhorre such seruitude. I am greater, sayth he, and borne to higher matters, then that I should be a bondslaue to mine owne flesh. Goe to, tell me, if he feared so to demeane and debase himselfe, least he should be termed a doater and a hopelesse vnthrift: how much more ought we to flie such wickednes, by which so great bles∣sings are lost, and such an heape of mischiefes succeede in their

place? Which thing, seeing that it is partly so natural, & partly so vsuall, we tread on in this old path, hauing no regard of so great misgouernment,* 1.19 which now euery where in the world is seene. Hence it is (as S. Bernard sayth) that the abhominable sauour of vicious men is not smelt: because the multitude of thē is too great. For euen as in a country where all are borne Ethiopians, it is not an vglie thing to be blacke; and as where all are drunk, it is no ignominie nor slander to bee drunke:* 1.20 so this monstrous seruitude, because it is so familiar to the worlde, scarcelie it is knowne or noted in any man. All these things doe sufficientlie declare, how miserable thys seruitude is, and with what a horri∣ble punishment man is condemned for sinne: seeing that for it, the noblest creature is deliuered into the hands of so barbarous and cruell a Tyrant. Ecclesiasticus hath expressed the nature of this beast,* 1.21 when he beseeched the Lord, that hee would put from him all wicked and vngodly desires: that hee would take from him the greedines of the belly, & that the lust of the flesh should not take hold of him, and that he might not be giuen o∣uer to an impudent minde. As if he should say; that he desired, that he might not be deliuered into the hands of such a Tyrant or executioner. For he supposed that such an appetite was wor∣thy of such a name.

But if thou desirest to know how great the force and power of thys Tyrant is,* 1.22 thou maist easily gather of that, which he hath done, and which hee daily dooth in thys world. I will not send thee to the fables of Poets, which tell vs how that most famous Hercules, after he had conquerd all the Monsters of the world, at the length beeing captiuated with the loue of a certaine lasci∣uious woman, cast away his club, and sat amongst other vvo∣men spynning, and drawing out threds from his distaffe. For so the woman that hee loued commaunded him, yea, if hee did it not, she threatned him, and checked him. Thys those wise Po∣ets fained more ingeniously then truly, that they might shewe the cruell tyrannic and power of that appetite. Neyther vvill I bring out of the holy Scriptures, that known example of Salo∣mon; who beeing most holy, and most wise, yet hee was so be∣sotted by his Concubines, that his true God beeing forsaken, he adored Idols, and builded for them magnificent and stateli••

Temples: that hee might serue these impure harlots, and his owne appetite; although this example doth no lesse argue the tiranny of this most pestilent passion, then that afore. For I had rather bring those, which daily are obuious to our eyes.

* 1.23 Consider I pray thee, into what present danger an adulte∣rous woman doth cast her selfe, that she may satisfie her inordi∣nate lust: for it pleaseth vs to take an example from that per∣turbation: seeing that the knowledge of the rest doe depend of the knowledge of one. That woman knowes if she be found of her husband in an act so wicked and detestable, that she shall be slaine without any hope of pardon: shee knowes that shee shall loose together at one and the selfe same time, her soule, her life, her honour, her riches, and all other blessings, which she might hope for eyther in this world, or in the world to come, then which losse surely a greater nor a more vniuersall cannot be inuented or thought of. She is not ignorant that she shall be a perpetuall reproch and scandale to her desamed children, to her father and mother also, to her brethren and sisters, and to her whole family, and that shee shall for euer be a griefe vnto them. Neuerthelesse, so great is the violence of this appetite, or (that I may speake better) the power of this Tyrant, that he for∣ceth the woman to all these, and easily bringeth her to so great danger, and she doth willingly, what so euer he commaundeth her. What Barbarian or Tyrant was euer found in the world, who could euer force his seruant to vndergoe so great dangers, and so farre to obey him?

What captiuity can be found more hard or sharper? In this estate all sinners liue, as the Prophet witnesseth, when he sayth. That they dwell in darknes, and in the shadow of death, being bound in misery and yron.* 1.24 That is, in yron chaynes. What darknes is this, except that blindnes in which the wicked are conuersant (as we haue shewed before) seeing that they know neither them∣selues, nor God, as they ought to knowe: neyther for what cause they liue, neyther for what end they are created; much lesse doe they know the vanity of the things they loue, neyther this seruitude wherein they liue? What be these bonds, with which they are bound, vnlesse the violence of their affections, which holdeth their harts tyed with the most straight bonds of

those things, which they to inordinately doe desire? And what is that hunger and misery, which they suffer, but an insatiable appetite and desire, by which they are tormented about infinite things, which they cannot haue?

Consider now therefore, if any captiuity harder or sorer can be sustayned or borne? But that thou mayst know this yet more plainely,* 1.25 I will illustrate it by another example. Behold Amnon King Dauids eldest sonne, when as he laciuiously had beheld his sister Thamar, he was so blinded with this darknes, and so miserably bound with these chaines, and so vehemently tormen∣ted with this hunger, that he could neyther eate nor drinke, nor sleepe: yea, he was so farre enamoured of her, that he was sicke for her loue. Tell me I pray thee, what ones were the chaines of this perturbation or appetite, with which his hart was bound; when it so changed his flesh, and so infected the humors of his body,* 1.26 that a great infirmity followed vpon it? But that thou mayst know, that the remedy of this infirmity was not to haue obtayned, that he desired; marke how the same Amnon was further out of square and more greeuously afflicted, and more vexed with a contrary affection, after hee had satisfied his lust, then he was before: for the Scripture sayth, And hee hated her exceedingly, so that the hatred where-with he hated her, was greater then the loue, where-with he had loued her. So that the rauishing of his sister did not free him from the passion, but changed the one into another greater. Is there any Tyrant to be found in the world, who so often doth tosse and turmoyle his Captiues, that doth commaund them to doe & vndoe; that forceth them to goe and returne the same way?

Certainely beleeue me my brother, they are all such, who are subiect to the like vices; who are scarce Lords ouer them∣selues. For they eate nothing, they drinke nothing, they thinke vpon nothing, they speake nothing, they dreame of nothing, but of it. So that neyther the feare of God, nor their consci∣ence, nor heauen, nor hell, nor death, nor iudgement, nor of∣tentimes life it selfe, and their proper honour, which they so ambitiously loue and maintaine, can bring them from this way, or breake these bonds. What shall I speake of their iealousie? of their feare, of their suspitions, and of other externall acci∣dents,

in which they are plunged night and day, casting them∣selues headlong into most certaine danger of life, and honour for this rauening and tormenting pleasure? Is there any Tyrant in the world, which after such a manner doth dominere and ty∣rannize ouer his seruant, as vice rageth and raigneth ouer this mans hart? For a seruant is neuer so bound to his Lord, that night and day he doth wayte vpon him, that no time is left him to bestow on his owne busines, or that he may not breathe from his duty: but this vice, as also others, is such an one, that when it hath once gotten rule and empire ouer the soule, it doth so de∣uoure and swallow it vp, that scarcely there remayneth to man any force, any commodity, any time, or memory, or any wise∣dome to follow other busines. Therefore not without cause long agoe,* 1.27 sayd Ecclesiasticus, Wine and women leade wise-men out of the way. For man by reason of this vice is so besides him∣selfe, and estranged from his right minde, that although he be wise, yet he is made as vnfit to mannage and execute any busi∣nesses, which belong and are proper vnto man, as if hee had drunke vp a whole Hogshead of vvine. To shew and demon∣strate this, that most excellent Poet fayned a fable of Queene Dido, who when she began to be blindfolded with the loue of Aeneas, she slacked and fore-flowed all the busines of the com∣mon wealth, saying:

The works of Towres are left, no feates of armes the youth applies, * 1.28Nor Hauens are wrought, nor for the wars the mighty butwarks rise. All things vnpersit stand, the buildings great, and threanings hie Of hugie wals, and engines for their height that match the skie.

For this Tyrant had so possessed all the sences of this Queene, that now she was vnfit for al things; only the thoughts and cogitations of her new loue being excepted. Which by how much more he ruled in her hart, by so much she was lesse able to apply her selfe to those thinges that pertayned to the com∣mon wealth, and lesse able to doe thinges, which otherwise ought to haue beene done. O pestilent vice: ô destruction of common-wealths; the sword of all good exercises, the death of vertues, the cloude of good wits, the peruerter of men, the drun∣kennes

of wise-men, the dotage of old men, the madnes of yong men, and the common plague of mankind.

Neyther must wee thinke that onely in this vice there is so great tiranny,* 1.29 but also in all others. Behold & view, a little while an ambitious man, and one that is swelled with vaine glory, and choked with the smoke of honour: and see how seruilely he ly∣ueth subiect vnder this desire; and how immoderately he affec∣teth and thirsteth after this vaine worldly glory, how carefull and vigilant he is to attaine vnto it, directing all his actions and all his endeuours to this end? To serue, to get acquaintance, to be cloathed, to be booted and spurd, his table, his bed, his house, his seruants, the carriage of his body, his gate, his speach, to be briefe, what so euer is done of such like men, and what so euer is in them, all that is formed, compozed, and applied to this end. For they doe adorne and fashion themselues onely to this end, that they may seeme neate and cult, thereby to gaine the prayse and vaine opinion and applause of the people. Yea, if thou doost well consider, thou shalt see that an ambitious man in all things that he doth or speaketh, hath none other respect, then that he may lay snares and nets to catch the popular applause of the people. If we wonder at that Emperour, which passed o∣uer all the festiuals in taking of flyes; how much more is the madnes of an ambitious man to be wondered at, who doth not onely spend all the festiuals and holy-dayes, but also the whole course of his life, in catching onely smoke, and wordly vanity? This wretched man by reason of this ambition, doth not what he would, neyther doth he cloath himselfe according to his own estate, neyther is he permitted to goe whether he would: for he goeth but sildome to the Church, neyther dare he be conuer∣sant with good men; fearing least perhaps the world, to which he lyueth subiect, should see somthing in him, which might be reprehended. And that which is more, that he might satisfie this his passion, he lauisheth out greater store of riches, then ey∣ther he is willing, or hath, casting himselfe headlong into a thou∣sand needes and many debts, with which his soule is afflicted; with the griefe of his posterity, which he leaueth to be heires of his debts and imitators of his folly. What punishment I pray thee deserueth he, if not that, which a certaine King inflicted on

an ambitious man,* 1.30 vnder whose nosestrils hee commaunded so grosse and so thicke a smoake to be raised, that he was choaked with it, saying: It is meete that he should die with smoake, who had consumed his whole life in snuffing and sucking vp the smoake of vanitie. Therefore what greater misery then this can be found?

What shal I speak of a couetous man,* 1.31 who not only is a bond∣slaue, but also an Idolator of his riches & mony? for he adoreth and serueth them, and whatsoeuer these commaund, he willing∣ly performeth it. For them hee fasteth, and with-holdeth bread from his owne mouth; to be briefe, he loueth them more then he loueth God himselfe, seeing that for the loue of them, hee is not afraid oftentimes to offend GOD? In them is his rest, hys glory, his hope, and all his thoughts. With them hee watcheth and sleepeth; and for them he consumeth his whole life, and all his sences, in trafficking and taking vncessant paines for them, in the meane while vtterly forgetting himselfe, and all other bu∣sinesse.* 1.32 Shal we say that such a man is the Lord of his riches, that he may determine of them as he pleaseth? or rather shall we af∣firme, that he is the seruant and slaue of his money? for the co∣uetousnes of his riches, as a most hard and seuere mistres, doth compell him to obey them; but it suffereth him not to enioy them, & it sharpeneth the desire, but taketh away the pleasure. A couetous man prouideth riches, as though he were a gallant and braue man, but he vseth them as a beast & a niggardly pea∣sant. He taketh paines but he wanteth the fruite & pleasure of his trauaile, whilst he with-draweth and holdeth his riches from his body and soule, yea, and from life it selfe, if so his treasure and store may encrease and augment.

Surely I knowe not what captiuitie can bee more great or grieuous: for if you call him a captiue and a prysoner, who is shutte vp in a turret, and there hath his handes and feete sette in a payre of stocks, rather is he not worthy of this name, vvhose soule is imprisoned and captiuated with the inordinate desire of those things, which he loueth? For when a man doth gape af∣ter gaine, and is wholy occupied in seeking after pelse, hee hath no facultie or power of his soule truely free: neyther is he Lord of himselfe, but a seruant of his owne riches. For where the loue

or desire is, there the hart lyeth bound and fettered. Neyther is the seruitude of thys captiuitie lesser, because it is voluntarie: for if it be captiuitie in deede, it is so much the more dangerous; by how much it is more voluntary.* 1.33 For neyther is the malignity and mischiefe of poyson lesser, although it be sweet, so that it be poyson in deede. There cannot be a greater captiuitie, then if thou doost so blind-fold thy selfe, that thou canst not beholde God, truth, honestly, nor the lawe of righteousnesse. If thou doost suffer thy selfe to be tortured vnder the vnreasonable rule of thys empyre, thou art no more Lord of thy selfe, then a drun∣ken man is of himselfe, ouer whom wine hath the soueraigntie and vpper hand. But if it be a torment & a torture, to be a slaue & a seruant: what greater torment can there be, then that with which couetous men are tormented? especially, seeing that they cannot many times possesse that, which they so greedily desire, neither can they choose but couet that, neither knowe they meanes or way to obtaine it. Therefore at the length they come to this ambiguitie, that they say that, which a certaine Poet sayd to a melancholie and braine-sicke woman; I loue thee, & I hate thee. And if thou askest me the cause, I will tell thee; I abhorre thy familiaritie, and yet I cannot liue without thee.

If any one placed in this seruitude and slauerie shall assay to breake these chaynes, and to ouercome & conquer thys desire, he shall finde the force of this appetite so mighty in striuing & wrastling against him, that oftentimes hee shall dispayre of the victorie, and so he (wretched man) shall returne againe, and put his hands and feete into his former gyues and chaynes. There∣fore, doth not hee say well, that calleth this appetite a bondage and a torment?

But if man were bound with one chaine alone,* 1.34 surely it were a lesser euill: for that man that onely is shutte vp in one prison, & hath but one only enemy to buckle with, there is some hope, that thys man may come free: but what shall wee say, of the bondes of so many other affections, with which miserable man is bound? Seeing therefore that mans life is subiect to so many, and so diuers necessities, all these be chaines and motiues of this insatiable couetousnes: for they be snares, in which our wretched hart is taken: although they take hold sooner & more

grieuously of one then of another. For there are many men, by nature so apprehensiue, that they cannot be brought from that, which once they haue apprehended. There be others that bee weake, and as it were melancholy, who through the nature of this humor, doe most easily apprehend any thing, whose desires are very vehement. Some others are faint-harted, and of feeble courage, to whom all things seeme great, hard and difficult, and worthy to be much esteemed: and although they are very smal, yet they are exceedingly desired. For to a base and peasantlie mind, all things seeme great, albeit they be small, as Seneca saith. Many also are naturally found very vehement in all things that they doe desire:* 1.35 of which number are women, of whom a cer∣taine wise-man speaketh very well; Either a woman loueth or hateth: there is no third thing.

All these therefore doe suffer a hard and a sharpe seruitude, through the violence of the passions which captiuate them. But if the misery be so great to be bound with one onely chaine, and to be the bond-slaue of one onely Lord, what great misery shal it be, to be bound with so many chaines, and to be a seruant of so many Lords, as a sinner is, who obeieth so many Lords, as he hath affections and vices, which hee serueth? What misery can be greater then this? If all the dignitie of man, in that he is man, consisteth in two things, that is, in Reason and Will; what can be more contrary to the one, and to the other, then passion and appetite, which blindeth the Reason, and hindereth the Will? Hence it is manifest, how dangerous and deadly all affection is, for it throweth man out of the seate of his dignity, by obscuring his reason, and peruerting his will. Without these two, man is not man, but a beast. Thys therefore my brother, is that mise∣rable seruitude, in which sinners liue, as a nation which is ney∣ther gouerned of God, nor of reason, but is haled and drawne of the appetite, and of passion.

¶ Of the libertie in which the righteous liue.

THE sonne of God came to deliuer vs from this vild & mi∣serable seruitude (of which we haue hetherto spoken:) and this is that libertie and victory, which the Prophet celebrateth, when he sayth;* 1.36 They shall reioyce before then, according to the ioy

in haruest, & as men reioyce when they deuide a spoyle. For the yoke of theyr burden, and the staffe of theyr shoulder, and the rod of theyr oppressour hast thou broken. All these names, of the yoke, of the staffe, and of the rodde, doe agree vnto the tyrannie, and vio∣lence of our appetite: because the deuill abuseth it, as his owne instrument, as he who is the Prince of this world, and exerciseth his tyrannie in these names, to bring men vnder the yoke of sin.

From this violence and power,* 1.37 the sonne of God hath deli∣uered vs, and that by the fulnesse of his grace, which hee hath brought vnto vs, through the sacrifice of his death. For vvhich cause the Apostle sayth; Our old man is crucified together vvith Christ. In the which place, by the old man our inordinate ap∣petite is vnderstoood, which is corrupt and depraued by that first sinne. For by this great and mighty sacrifice and merrit of his passion, Christ hath obtained that grace and fauour for vs, that we might bring vnder vs this Tyrant,* 1.38 and that wee might treade him vnder our feete, and that we might inflict vpon him due punishment, by crucifying him, who before crucified vs, & by bringing him into bondage, who first helde vs captiue. Wherefore,* 1.39 that saying of Esay is fulfilled; And they shall take them prisoners, whose captiues they were, and haue rule ouer theyr oppressours. For before grace, the sensuall appetite did hold vn∣der the spirit, & exercised tyrannie ouer him: constraining him to serue euill lusts, as before we haue spoken. But after grace was giuen to the spirit, the spirit was so helped of it, that it pre∣uailed and ouerthrew thys tyrant, subiected him vnto him, and made him to obey reason.

This is most excellently prefigured in the death of Adoni∣bezech King of Ierusalem,* 1.40 who was slaine of the children of the chyldren of Israell, first the thumbes of his handes and feete beeing cutte off. Who seeing himselfe brought to that misery, and beeing mindfull of his owne cruelty and tyrannie, which he before had vsed to others, hee sayde; Seauenty Kings hauing the thumbes of theyr hands and of theyr feete cutte off, gathered frag∣ments of meate vnder my table: as I haue doone, so God hath rewar∣ded me. The Scripture addeth, that they brought him to Ierusa∣lem, and there he died.

Thys cruell Tyrant is a figure of the Prince of this worlde,

who before the comming of the sonne of GOD, cutte off the hands & feete of men; making thē vnfit to performe the wor∣ship of God: cutting off theyr hands, that they shoulde doe no good, and theyr feete, least they should come vnto him by their endeuours and desires. Hee made men also to gather the frag∣ments of meat vnder his table, that is, the pleasures of this world, with which this Prince and Tyrant doth nourish his seruants. And rightly they are called the fragments of meate, and not parts or peeces:* 1.41 for the niggardlines, which the deuill vseth in deuiding his goods among his, is so great, that he neuer giueth them so much, as will satisfie theyr gurmandizing paunches. But after our Sauiour came into the world, he turned the same punishment vpon the Tyrant, by which he before afflicted and pnn••shed others, cutting off his hands and his feete; that is, de∣stroying all his workes, and enfeebling all his strength. Who properly died in Ierusalem: for the Sauiour of the world there dying, he slew the Prince of the world: and where he was cru∣cified, there was crucified also the Prince of the world, and be∣ing bound hand and foote, all his power was taken from him. And so presently after that most holy and sacred passion of our Sauiour, men began to tryumph ouer this Tyrant, and with great power to raigne ouer the deuill, the world, and all vices; so that all the torments of the world, shall not be able to driue & force men to ruinate their soules.

¶ Causes from which this liberty ariseth.

* 1.42PErhaps thou wilt aske me, whence this so admirable victory and liberty came? I answere that this after God first procee∣ded from the Diuine grace, as we haue before sayd. Which by the mediation of vertue comming from it, doth moderate and temper the fury of our appetites,* 1.43 that they cannot preuaile a∣gainst reason.* 1.44 Wherefore euen as Sorcerers know by certaine verses how to inchaunt Serpents, that they cannot hurt men: so that they yet lyuing are not poysonous, and hauing poyson, they cannot spit nor cast it vpon others: so also the Diuine grace doth after that maner enchaunt the venemous Serpents of our affections, that they lyuing and being whole in our naturall es∣sence, cannot hurt vs: neyther can they poyson or intoxicate

our life, as before they were wont. This, as being taught from heauen,* 1.45 Esay sheweth very excellently, in these words; And the sucking child shall play vpon the hole of the Aspe, and the weined child shall put his hand vppon the Cockatrice hole. Then shall none hurt nor destroy in all the mountaine of mine holines: for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters that couer the Sea▪ It is certaine, that the speech of the Prophet is not heere of ma∣teriall Serpents, but of spirituall; which are our appetites, and euill inclinations: for these when they are free and not hinde∣red, infect the world with their poyson: neither doth he speake of corporall chyldren, but of spirituall: amongst whom hee is sayd, to be a sucking childe, who first beginneth to serue God, who as yet hath neede of milke, vntill hee bee further growne: and he is called the weined child, who hath somewhat profited, and goeth on his feete, and now is fedde with more solide meat, as bread, and other foode fit for men. Therefore the Prophet, speaking as well of the one as of the other, saith at the first, that they shall play & be delighted; because they see themselues liue in the midds of spirituall Serpents, and yet by the vertue of the Diuine grace, they doe not receiue of them any mortall hurt by consenting to sin. Others after they are weined, and haue pro∣fited in the way of the Lord, he saith, that they shall put theyr hands vpon the holes of Cockatrices: as if hee shoulde say, that God doth keepe them in the midst of the greatest dangers. For in them is fulfilled that of the Psalmographer;* 1.46 Thou shalt walke vpon the Lyon and Aspe: the young Lyon and the Dragon, shalt thou tread vnder feete. These are they that put their handes vppon the holes of Cockatrices, neither feele any hurt. For the plentie of grace, which God poureth vpon the earth, dooth enchaunt these Serpents after that manner, that they cannot hurt the sons of GOD.

This thing the Apostle declareth more perspicuously, and without a metaphore, when (after he had spoken copiously of the tyrannie of our appetites and of our flesh) at the length cri∣eth out;* 1.47 O wretched man that I am, who shall deliuer me frō the bo∣die of this death? presently hee aunswering himselfe, saith, The grace of God, which is giuen by Iesus Christ our Lord. In vvhich place, by the body of death, the Apostle vnderstandeth not a

body subiect to naturall death, which we all looke for: but that, which in another place is called the body of sinne: which is an inordinate appetite, ready and apt to all euill. From which, as from a body, the members of all passions and inordinate desires, doe arise and grow, which draw vs to all kinde of sinne. From this body, as from a cruell Tyrant, the grace of God hath deli∣uered and freed vs, which is giuen through Iesus Christ, as the Apostle saith.

* 1.48 After this there is another cause not of the least value, that is, the greatnes of the ioy & spirituall consolations, which the righ∣teous enioy in this world; as we haue said before. For this doth so quench the thirst of all concupiscences, that a man may easily ouer-come, and cast from him all other affections. The Foun∣taine of all good things beeing found, foorth-with that trouble∣some and disquiet tast of all other delights perrisheth, as our Sa∣uiour testifieth in the Gospell, hauing conference with the wo∣man of Samaria;* 1.49 Whosoeuer drinketh (saith he) of the water that I shall giue him, (which is the grace of God) he shall ueuer be more a thirst.* 1.50 The same thing also S. Gregorie testifieth in a certaine homilie. But if any man, saith he, hath tasted with the mouth of his hart, what is the sweetnes of heauenly rewards, what be the musicall assembles of Angels, and what is the incomprehensi∣ble vision and sight of the holy Trinitie: to this man by hovve much that is more sweet, which inwardly hee feeleth and seeth, by so much that is more bitter, which outwardly hee pertaketh. Now he aymeth to goe beyond all those things that come into his consideration, now his minde is suspended from exteriour delights, and he doth search out, what the inuisible blessings be, he is fedde with the tast of that incircumscriptible light: and be∣ing carried beyond and aboue himselfe, he doth disdaine againe to be deiected and cast downe to himselfe.

When as nowe the vessell of our hart is full after this manner of that heauenly liquor, nowe the thirst of our soule is quen∣ched, now remaineth no further any reason or cause to desire or seeke after the fraile goods and abiect things of this life. There∣fore our soule is free, neither is it bounde any longer with the chaynes of euill appetites: for where there is no desire or con∣cupiscence, there are no chaynes, no captiuitie. Insomuch that

the hart, because it hath found the Lord of all, therefore, it after a certaine manner is made Lord of all: for in this chiefe good, it findeth and possesseth all good.

To these two diuine benefits,* 1.51 by helpe of which men come to true libertie, the care also and diligence of man is to bee ioy∣ned: by which hee striueth and contendeth to subiect the flesh to the spirit, and the affections to reason. By which study, men by little and little are mortified, and are made fit and able to all good, theyr manners are bettered, and their furie and former boldnes, is restrained and bridled. Hence it is that S. Chriso∣stome sayth; If wilde beasts, that are nourished among men, by degrees put off their naturall fiercenesse, and become tame, and are peaceably conuersant among men, as the Poet sayth verie vvell:

Lyons that be fierce, barbarous, and wilde, In time are tamed to play with a child.

What great thing is it, if our naturall affections, when they haue accustomed themselues by little and little to obey reason, if by degrees they waxe gentle & milde; that is, if by little and little, they participate something of the nature of the spirit & reason, and reioyce in the works of the spirit? If custome & good vse hath so great force and efficacie, what shall not grace doe, wor∣king together with this vse? Hence it is that the seruants of God, are often more sensibly merry & delighted (for so it plea∣seth me to speake) in celestial rauishments, in silence, in reading, in prayer, in meditation, and in such like exercises; then they would be in feasting, in sports, in hunting, and in other plea∣sures and delights of this world. For now they hate all those, & it is a torment vnto them to remember them: insomuch that now the very flesh dooth abhorre that, which before it loued, and findeth tast and delight in that thing, which before it loa∣thed. Which is so true, as a certaine learned and holy man saith, that often-times the inferiour part of our soule, is so delighted in prayer, and inwardly hath such sweet conference with God, that it feeleth a great torment, when it is with-holden by anie manner from these exercises, or hindered in them.

Thys is that which the Prophet sayth,* 1.52 I will praise the Lorde, who hath giuen me counsell: my reines also chasten me in the nights:

or as another translation hath,* 1.53 they teach mee. Thys surelie is an excellent worke of the Diuine grace. For those that comment vpon this place, vnderstand by the reines, the affections and in∣ward motions of man, which are wont, as wee haue said, to bee prouokers and procurers of sinnes.* 1.54 Which notwithstanding oftentimes through the vertue of grace, not onely doe not in∣cite and stirre vp to euill, as they were wont, but some-times they helpe vnto good: and not only they doe not serue the de∣uill, on whose side they were wont to warre, but they goe on Christs side and turne theyr weapons vpon his enemies. Which although it be seene in many spirituall exercises, yet especially it appeareth in the affection of contrition, and in the greefe for sinne: in which the inferiour part of the soule playeth her part, in afflicting it selfe, and in plentifull pouring out of teares for sinnes. Therefore the Prophet sayth, that in the night, when the day beeing past the righteous are wont to examine theyr consciences, this same his reines did in chastising him: for from that anguish & bitternes, which he felt in that part of his soule, because therein he had offended GOD, he was alwayes afflic∣ted; and he was alwaies carefull, that he might not commit that againe, for which hee was sorrowfull. Therefore not vvithout cause he gaue thanks vnto the Lord: for not onely the superi∣our part of his soule, in which his vnderstanding was, inuited him to good: but also the inferiour part, which alwaies for the most part, is wont to driue and prick man to euill.

* 1.55 But although this be both truth, and also great glory of the Redemption purchased by Christ for vs, (who as hee is a most perfect and absolute Redeemer, so hee hath most perfectly and absolutely redeemed vs) yet no man must be too bolde to trust to his owne flesh, yea although it be mortified, so long as hee continueth in this mortall life.

These therefore be the chiefest causes of thys admirable and wonderfull libertie, after which followeth a newe knowledge of GOD, and a sound and solide confirmation of our fayth, and of our Religion, which we professe, as the Lord himselfe testi∣fieth by the Prophet Ezechiell,* 1.56 saying; And they shall knowe that I am the Lord, when I haue broken the cordes of theyr yoke, and deliuered them out of the handes of those that serued themselues of

them.* 1.57 Wee say that this yoke is sensualitie, or an inordinate de∣sire to sinne, which cleaueth to our flesh, and which oppresseth vs, and subdueth vs to sinne. The cordes of thys yoke are euill inclinations, with which the deuill apprehendeth and catcheth man, and draweth him vnto him: which inclinations are so much the stronger, by how much they haue beene longer con∣firmed through an euill custome. Which thing Saint Augu∣stine confesseth of himselfe in these wordes;* 1.58 I was bounde not with yron, but with mine yron will: my will the enemie kept, & of my selfe made a chayne for my selfe, and bound me with it. Because of my corrupt will came lust, and whilst I did not resist lust, custome folowed, with which as with a chaine, I was bound and imprisoned in sinne.

Therefore, if at any time a man shall see himselfe bound af∣ter this manner, that this holy man confesseth himselfe to haue beene bound, and is willing and desirous to be vnlosed, and to gette out of thys captiuitie, hee shall finde as great difficulties to escape out, as hee found: but if at the length he beeing conuer∣ted vnto GOD, doe see these chaynes broken in peeces, these affections tamed and brought vnder, and these euill incli∣nations mortified: and if hee see himselfe free, and the Lord of hys ovvne appetites: to conclude, if hee see the yoke, that lay vpon his shoulders, novve lye vnder his feete; what other thing ought he to doe, then assuredly and vndoubtedly to beleeue, that it is GOD, who hath broken these chaynes, and hath taken thys greeuous and burthenous yoke from his shoulders? Therefore let him praise God, and say with the Prophet: Thou hast broken my bonds:* 1.59 I will offer to thee a sacrifice of praise, and will call vpon the Name of the Lord.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Whence this libertie springeth.
• * 1.2

  2, Cor, 3,
• * 1.3

  Iohn, ••.
• * 1.4

  One kinde of liberty true, an o∣ther false.
• * 1.5

  Why the li∣berty of the soule is the true liberty.
• * 1.6

  Sinne a cru∣ell Tyrant.
• * 1.7

  Whose ser∣uant a sin∣ner is.
• * 1.8

  The flesh is sinne, and a nourisher of sinne.
• * 1.9

  Fleshly de∣sire or sen∣suall appe∣tite is the cause of perturbati∣ons.
• * 1.10

  Basill.
• * 1.11

  Rom. 7.
• * 1.12

  A simili∣tude.
• * 1.13

  The superi∣our part, & the inferior part of the soule.
• * 1.14

  The appe∣tite ought to be go∣uerned, and not to go∣uerne.
• * 1.15

  What it is to obey the appetite.
• * 1.16

  A carnall louer a ser∣uant.
• * 1.17

  2, King, 11.
• * 1.18

  Seneca.
• * 1.19

  Why vici∣ous mē are not auoy∣ded.
• * 1.20

  A simili∣tude,
• * 1.21

  Ecclus, 23.
• * 1.22

  How great the force is, of pertur∣bations and affections.
• * 1.23

  The serui∣tude of im∣pure & vn∣chast loue.
• * 1.24

  Psal. 107.
• * 1.25

  2, Kings, 13
• * 1.26

  Luxury is not satisfied with the thing desi∣red.
• * 1.27

  Eccle. 19
• * 1.28

  Aeneid 4.
• * 1.29

  The serui∣tude of am∣bition.
• * 1.30

  The pu∣nishment of an ambiti∣ous man.
• * 1.31

  The serui∣tude of co∣uetousnesse.
• * 1.32

  A couetous man is the seruant and slaue of his money.
• * 1.33

  A Similie.
• * 1.34

  A sinner is not bounde with one chaine a∣lone.
• * 1.35

  Pub. Mi∣mus.
• * 1.36

  〈…〉〈…〉.
• * 1.37

  By y^e grace of God, we are deliue∣red frō the seruitude of sinne. Rom, 6.
• * 1.38

  Men throgh grace, rule ouer the de∣uill.
• * 1.39

  Esay, 14.
• * 1.40

  Iudges, 1.
• * 1.41

  The deuil is couetous towards his
• * 1.42

  The causes whence li∣berty ari∣seth.
• * 1.43

  1.
• * 1.44

  A simili∣tude.
• * 1.45

  Esay, 11,
• * 1.46

  Psalm, 91,
• * 1.47

  Rom, 7.
• * 1.48

  The second cause, the sweetnes of spiritual cō∣solations.
• * 1.49

  Iohn, 4,
• * 1.50

  in his tenth homily vp∣on Ezechi∣ell, and in the 8. booke of his Mor∣rals, cap. 21
• * 1.51

  The thyrd cause, daily vse, & con∣tinuall dili∣gence.
• * 1.52

  Psalm, 16,
• * 1.53

  Ierome.
• * 1.54

  The affecti∣ons are taught of the Lord, & do worke good vnto man.
• * 1.55

  A Caution.
• * 1.56

  Izech, 34,
• * 1.57

  The yoke of sinners.
• * 1.58

  Augustine in his eight booke of his confes∣sions, the 5- chapter.
• * 1.59

  Psalm, 116,