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GIve me leave, O my God, with Thanksgiving, to remember, & confesse un∣to thee thine owne mercies bestowed upon
me. Let my bones be filled with thy love, and let them say unto thee, Who is like unto thee, O * 1.1 Lord? thou hast broken my bonds in sunder, I will offer unto thee the sacrifice of thanksgi∣ving. And how thou hast bro∣ken them will I now declare; and all men who worship thee, when they heare of it, shall say, Blessed bee the Lord, both in Heaven and in Earth, great and wonderfull is his Name. Thy words had stucke fast even to the very roots of my heart, and I was hedged round about by * 1.2 thee. Of the eternity of thy life I was now become certaine, though I had no more than seene it in a glasse, as it were, * 1.3 darkely. All my former doub∣tings, concerning an incorrup∣tible substance, from which all other substance should derive its being, was now quite taken away from me; nor did I desire as now to bee made more cer∣taine
of thee, but better assured in thee. As for mine owne tem∣porall life, all things were as yet unresolved; my heart was to be purged from the old leaven. The * 1.4 way (our Saviour himselfe) I ve∣ry * 1.5 well liked oft but it i••ked me to follow him through those stre••ghts which he had passed.
2. Thous didst put into my minde, and it seemed good in mine owne eyes, to goe unto Simplicianus, who seemed to me a faithfull servant of thine, and that thy grace shined in him: of whom I had further heard, that from his very youth he had lived most devoutly to∣wards thee. Hee was now growne into yeeres; and by rea∣son of so great an age, spent in so good a purpose as following of thy waies, he seemed to mee to have gained experience of many things, and to have beene taught many things; and verily so hee had. Out of which skill of his,
I desired him affoord mee some directions, (making him ac∣quainted with my heats) which should be the readiest way for a man in my case, to walke in thy pathes. For, the Church I saw to full; and one went this way, and another that way. But very unpleasent to mee it was, that I led the life of a wor••••ling: yea a very grievous but them it was, (those desires af∣ter the hopes of honour and pro∣fit inflaming me now no longer as they were wont to doe) to un∣dergoe so heavy a bondage. For, in respect of thy sweetnesse, and the beauty of thy house which I loved, those thoughts delighted me no longer. But very strong∣ly yet was I enthralled with the love of women: nor had thine Apostle forbidden me to marry, although he advised me to the * 1.6 better, earnestly wishing that all men were as himselfe then was.
3. But I being weake, made
choice of the softer place: and because of this alone, was lan∣guishing I, tumbled up and downe in the rest; yea I pined away with withering cares, be∣cause in other matters which I was unwilling to undergoe, I was constrained to accomodate my selfe to a married life, unto which I voluntarily stood in∣thralled. I had understood from the mouth of Truth it selfe, That there were some Eunuchs, which have made themselves * 1.7 Eunuchs for the Kingdome of Heavens sake: but let him re∣ceive this saying that is able. All those men verily are vaine, in whom the knowledge of God is not; and who could not out of these things which seeme good, find out him that is good indeed. But I continued no lon∣ger in that vanity, I was now gotten beyond it; and by the testimony of all thy Creatures, had I found thee our Creator,
and thy WORD GOD toge∣ther with thee, and the Holy Ghost one God also with thee, by whom thou createdst all things.
4. There is yet another kinde of wicked men, who knowing * 1.8 God, did not glorifie him as God, neither were thankefull: upon these also was I falne, but thy right hand sustained me, and delivering me out of their com∣pany, placedst mee where I might grow better: For thou hast said unto man, Behold, the * 1.9 feare of the Lord is wisedome: and, be not desirous to seeme wise * 1.10 in thine owne eyes, because they who affirmed themselves to bee * 1.11 wise, became fooles. But I had now found that Pearle of price, * 1.12 which I ought to have bought, though I sold all that I had. But I was yet in a quandarie what to doe.
1. VNto Simplicianus ther∣fore I went, the Father a 1.13 at that time of Bishop Am∣brose in his receiving of thy grace; whom verily hee loved as his owne Father. To him I discovered the winding courses of my errour. But when I told him that I had read over certain Bookes of the Platonists, which Ʋictorinus, sometimes Rheto∣ricke professor of Rome, (who dyed a Christian, as I had heard) had translated into La∣tine, hee much rejoyced over
me, for that I had not falne upon any other Philosophers Writings, which use to bee full of fallacies and vaine deceits, after the rudiments of this * 1.14 world: whereas in the Plato∣nists, GOD and his WORD was many wayes insinuated. And the better to exhort me to Christs humility, (hidden from the wise, and revealed to little * 1.15 ones) he fell upon the mention of Ʋictorinus, whom whilest he was at Rome hee had famili∣arly knowne: and of him hee told this Story, which I will not here conceale, seeing it af∣foords matter of much praise of thy grace, which ought to bee confessed unto thee.
2. Hee told mee, how this most learned old man, most skilfull in all the liberall Scien∣ces; one, who had read, and censured, and explained so ma∣ny of the Philosophers; one, that had been Master to so ma∣ny
noble Senators, who also as an Ensigne of his so famous ma∣stership, had (which world∣lings esteeme such an honour) both deserved and obtained a Statuae b 1.16 in the Roman Forum: hee remaining even till his old age a worshipper of Idols, and a copartner of such sacrilegious solemnities, (with which al∣most all the Nobility and peo∣ple of Rome were inspired) and of that monstrous rabble of the gally-maufry of Gods, and of Anubis the barker, which had sometimes maintained the Bucklers against Neptune, Ue∣nus, and Minerva c 1.17, whom Rome having once conquered, now worshipped: all which this old Victorious with his thundering Eloquence, had so many yeeres beene the Cham∣pion
of, but now blushed not to become the childe of thy Christ, and an Infant at thy Font; submitting his necke to the yoke of humility, and sub∣duing his forehead to the igno∣miny of the Crosse.
3. O Lord, O Lord, which * 1.18 hast bowed the Heavens and come downe, touched the moun∣taines and they did smoke: by what means didst thou conveigh thy selfe into that mans breast? He read (as Simplicianus said) the holy Scripture, most studi∣ously sought after and searcht into all the Writings of the Christians, and said unto Sim∣plicianus, (not openly, but af∣ter a private and familiar man∣ner) You shall now understand that I am a Christian. Sim∣plicianus answered him, I will never beleeve it, nor will I ranke you among the Christians, un∣lesse I see you in the Church of Christ. Whereunto he smiling
upon him, replyed, Is it the wals that makes Christians? And this he often reiterated, that he was now a Christian: and Simplicianus making the same answer, the conceipt of the wals was as often returned. For he feared to offend his friends, which were proud Divell-wor∣shippers, from the heighth of whose Babylonian dignity, as from the top of the Cedars of Libanus, which the Lord had not yet brought downe, he sup∣posed a storme of ill-will would showre upon him.
4. But when once by rea∣ding and earnessnesse he had ga∣thered strength, and that he fea∣red to be denyed by Christ be∣fore his Angels, should he now * 1.19 be afraid to confesse him before men; and that he appeared guil∣ty to himselfe of a mighty crime, in being ashamed of the Sacraments of the humility of thy Word; whereas he had not
beene ashamed of the sacrilegi∣ous sacrifices of those proud di∣vels (of whose pride himselfe had beene an imitater) he put on a confident face against vanity, and was ashamed not to con∣fesse the truth: yea, all on the sudden, when Simplicianus thought nothing of it, he sayes unto him, (as himselfe told me) Come, let us goe to the Church, I resolve to be made a Christian. But he, not able to contain him selfe for joy, went along with him: where, so soone as he was instructed in the first mysteries of Religion, he not long after gave in his name, that he might bee regenerated by Baptisme: the Citie of Rome wondring, and the Church rejoycing. The proud beheld it, and were inra∣ged; guashing upon him with their teeth, and even pining away with envie at it. But the Lord God was the hope of his servant, who tooke no regard
to vanities and lying madnesse.
5. To conclude, when the houre was come wherin he was to make profession of his faith, * 1.20 (which at Rome it was the cu∣stome of those that were shortly to come unto thy Grace, to doe in a set forme of words, got∣ten by heart, and standing aloft upon a more eminent place, where they might well be seene of all the faithfull people;) there was an offer made, (as hee said) by the Priests unto Victorinus, that he might make his Profes∣sion
more privately, as the cu∣stome was to offer that courtesie to some others, who were likely to be bashfull and fearefull at the matter: but he chose rather to professe his salvation in the presence of the holy Assembly. For whereas there was no salva∣tion in that Rhetoricke which he had taught, and yet had hee made publike profession of that: how much lesse therefore ought he to dread that meeke slocke of thine, in the pronouncing of thy Word, who in the delive∣ry of his owne wordes, had not feared the fullest audience of mad men?
6. So soone therfore as he was mounted up aloft to make his profession, as the rest had done, and were to doe; every one that knew him, whispered his Name one to another with the voice of congratulation. And who was there that did not knowe
him? and there ranne a soft whisper through all the mouths of the rejoycing multitude, Vi∣ctorinus, Victorinus. Soone spake they of him with trium∣phing, for that they saw him; and as quickly were they whi∣sted againe, that they might now heare him. Hee pronoun∣ced alowd the true Faith with an excellent boldnesse, and eve∣ry man would gladly have pluckt him to them into their very heart: yea greedily did they snatch him in, by loving of him, and rejoycing for him. These were the hands with which they snatcht him.
1. GOod GOD! what is that which is wrought in man, that he should more re∣joyce at the salvation of such a soule as was in a desperate con∣dition, and which hath beene delivered out of the greater dan∣ger, than if there had still beene conceived good hope of him, or whose danger had beene lesser? Yea, even thou also, O most mercifull Father, doest more re∣joyce over one sinner repenting, * 1.21 than over ninety and nine just persons, that need no repentance. And with much joyfulnesse doe we hearken so often as we heare it, how the lost sheepe is brought home againe, upon the Shep∣heards * 1.22 shoulder rejoycing: and
that the lost groat is put againe into thy Treasurie, her friends and neighbours rejoycing with the woman that had found it. Yea, and the joy conceived at the solemne Service of thy house, makes the teares come out of our eyes, when as the Parable of a 1.23 the yonger sonne is read in it, how he was dead, but made alive againe; he was lost, but found againe. For thou rejoy∣cest both over us, as also over thy Angels, who continue holy, in holy charity. For thou art e∣ver the same, and ever knowest after the selfe-fame manner, all those things which of them∣selves neither continue the same ever, nor after the same manner.
What is that therefore which is wrought in the soule, when as it is more delighted to have either found or restored, those things which it loved, than if it ever had possest them? yea, and other creatures beare witnesse hereunto; and all things are full of testimonies still crying out, That so it is.
2. The Emperour trium∣pheth when hee is a Conque∣rour; yet had hee never over∣come, had hee not fought: and how much the more dan∣ger there was in the Battaile, so much the more rejoycing is there in the Triumph. The Storme tosses the Passengers, threatens Shippe-wracke, and every body waxes pale at his death approaching: but the Skie cleeres vp, and the Sea growes calme againe, and they are as much rejoyced as they were over-skared. A deare Friend of ours is sicke,
and his blood-letting shewes the malignity of the disease: all that wish his good health, are thereupon sicke in minde with him. Hee proves well againe, though not able to walke up and down so strongly as he was wont to doe; yet is there so great an expression of joy made, as never had beene, when as be∣fore his sicknesse, he was able to walke perfectly, sound, and lustily.
3. Yea, the very pleasures of our humane life, doe we procure by preceding difficulties: not those onely which fall upon us unlookt for, and against our wils, but even purposed by us, and desired. There is no plea∣sure at all in eating and drinking, unlesse the pinching of hunger and thirst goe before it. The Drunkards eate certaine salt meats, with purpose to procure a thirstie hotnesse in the mouth, which whilest the drinke quen∣ches,
the pleasure is procured. The order also it is, that the Spouse already affianced, uses not instantly to be given to her Sweetheart: for feare lest when he is an husband, he should lesse esteeme of her for being so soone obtained, whom whilest he was a wooer hee sighed not after, thinking her too long de∣layed. This is observable in such joy as is dishonest, and to be ab∣horred; seene also in that joy which is consented unto, and lawfull; seene likewise in the most sincere honesty of friend∣ship; seene lastly, in him who was dead, and afterwards revi∣ved; who was lost, and is found. The greatest joy is every where ushered in by the greatest pain∣fulnesse.
4. What means this, O Lord my God, that whereas thou art an everlasting joy unto thine owne selfe, yet some things are ever rejoycing in thee, concer∣ning
thee? What meanes this, that this inferious division of things thus alters up and down, with going backwards and for∣wards, with fallings out, and making friends againe? Is this the fashion of them, and is this that proportion thou then assig∣nedst to them; when as even from the highest heavens, down to the lowest of the Earth, from the beginning of the world to the last end of it; from the An∣gell, to the Worme; from the first thing that moveth, even un∣to the last; thou didst settle all kinds of good things, and all thine owne just workes in their proper places, and accompli∣shedst all-in their due seasons? Alas for me! how high art thou in the highest things, and how profound in the lowest! neither doest thou depart from us, nor are wee hardly able to returne unto thee.
1. GOe on, O LORD, and make an end of it, stirre us up, and call us backe; kindle us and plucke us to thee, inflame us, and grow sweet unto us: let us now love thee, and now run after thee. Doe not many a man out of a deeper dungeon of blindenesse, than ever Ʋictori∣nus was in, returne unto thee, ap∣proach neerer to thee, and are enlightned with the beame they receive from thee? which they that once receeive, receive pow∣er also from thee to become thy * 1.24 sonnes: who yet if they be lesse knowne among people, even those that doe know them, are lesse joyfull for them, seeing that when a many rejoyce together,
the joy of every single man is the fuller; even for that they warme themselves, and are inflamed by one another. Againe, because those that are generally known, are authors of salvation to the more, and give more example to follow them: and even therefore those also which have gone be∣fore them, rejoyce for them, be∣cause they rejoyce not for them alone. Farre bee it from our thoughts, that in thy Tabernacle the persons of the rich should be accepted of before the poore, or the Noble before the common people: seeing rather thou hast chosen the weake things of the world, to confound the mighty: * 1.25 and base things of the world, and things which are despised hast thou chosen; and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are.
2. And yet even that least of thy Apostles, by whose tongue thou soundedst out these words,
when as Paulus the Deputy had his pride beaten downe by the * 1.26 spirituall warfare of that Apo∣stle, and was set to draw in the easie yoke of thy Christ, now made the subject of the Great King: he also instead of Saul, which was his name before, de∣sired to bee called Paul after∣wards, in testimony of so great a victory. For the enemy is more overcome by wringing a man from him, of whom hee hath more hold, and by whom he hath hold of many others. And such as be proud he hath the surer hold of, by reason of their Title of nobility, and of many more under them, by reason of their authority. How much more welcome therefore; the heart of Ʋictorinus was esteemed, which the Divell had made himselfe master of, as of an invincible place of retreat; and the tongue of Ʋictorinus, with which as with a mighty and a most keene
weapon he had slaine many: so much the more abundantly be∣came it thy sonnes to rejoyce, for that our King hath bound the strong man, and that they saw * 1.27 his vessels taken from him and * 1.28 cleansed, and to be made service∣able for the Lord, unto every good worke.
1. BVt so soone as thy ser∣vant Simplicianns had made an end of his story of Ʋi∣ctorinus, I was all on fire to bee imitating of him: yea, this was the end hee told it for. After which when hee had subjoyned this relation of himselfe: how that in the daies of the Empe∣rour Iulian * 1.29, when there was a law made, whereby the Christi∣ans were forbidden to teach the liberall Sciences or Oratoric;
and how hee obeying this law, chose rather to give over his wordy schoole, than thy Word, by which thou makest eloquent the tongues of Infants: hee see∣med unto mee not to have beene so valiant, as happy in it; for that by this meanes he found the opportunity to attend upon thee onely. Which opportunity my selfe also sighed for, thus bound as I was, not with another mans Irons, but with mine owne Iron∣will. My willingnesse was the enemy master of; by which hee made a chaine for me, and had therewith bound me,
Because, that of a froward will, is a lust made: and a lust ever obeyed, becomes a custome: and a cu∣stome not resisted, brings on a necessity.By which links as it were hanging one upon ano∣ther (for which I might well call it a chaine) did a very hard bon∣dage hold me enthralled. As for that new will which now I be∣gan
to have towards the free worshipping and enjoying of thee, O God, the onely assured sweetnesse; it was not able as yet to overcome my former wil∣fulnesse, now hardened in me by so long continuance. Thus did my two Wills, one new and the tother old, that carnall, and this spirituall; try masteries within mee, and by their disagreeing wasted out my soule.
2. Thus came I to understand (my selfe affording me the expe∣riment) what I had sometimes read: How the flesh lusteth a∣gainst the spirit, and the spirit * 1.30 against the flesh. I verily lusted both waies; yet of the two, in that rather which I approved of in my selfe, than in that which I disallowed: yet in this, I now no more; because much of it I * 1.31 suffered rather against my will, than did it with my will. And yet was custome now by mine owne assistance, become more
sturdy against me, even because I was comen willingly, whi∣ther my will was not to have come. And who then can with any equity speake against it, if just punishment followes upon wilfull sinning? Nor had I now that faire excuse, upon pretence of which I heretofore seemed to my selfe, not as yet engaged to forsake the world to attend thy service, for that the knowledge of the truth was hitherto uncer∣taine unto me: seeing now I stood assured of it. But I being prest for the earth, refused to fight under thy Banner. Yea, as * 1.32 much afraid I was to be freed of what did hinder my march to∣wards thee, as I ought to have been afraid of what might hin∣der it. Thus with the Baggage of this present world was I as sweetly overladen, as a man u∣ses to be with slumbering: and those thoughts with which I meditated upon thee, were like
the offers of such as would get up; who being yet overcome with a deepe sleepe, fall againe into it. And like as there is no man who desires to sleepe al∣waies, (for that in any sober mans judgement it is much bet∣ter to keepe waking:) yet does a man oftentimes defer to shake off his drowfinesse, when hee findes a heavy sluggishnesse all his body over, and angry at him∣selfe for it, yet he willingly takes another nap, notwithstanding it be high time for him to be stir∣ring: in like manner assured I was, that much better it were for me to give up my selfe to thy charity, than to give over my selfe to mine own sensuality.
3. But notwithstanding that former course pleased, and over∣came my reason, yet did this latter tickle and inthrall my sen∣ses. Nor had I any thing now to answer thee calling to me, Arise, thou that sleepest and stand up * 1.33
from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light: and whereas thou on all sides shewedst mee, that what thou saidst was true; I had nothing at al to answer for my selfe, being convinced by that Truth; but certaine lither and drowsie words onely; Anon, see, I come by and by; let mee sleepe a little while. But my now and anon had no measure with them, and my little while drove out into a mighty length. I in vaine delighted in thy Law according to my inner man, when * 1.34 another law in my members, re∣belled against the Law of my minde, leading me captive into the law of sinne which was in my members. That law of sinnow, is the violence of custome, by which the mind of man is drawn and holden against it's will; de∣serving to be so holden, for that it so willingly slides into that custome. Wretched I therefore, who shall deliver me from the
body of this death; but thy grace onely, through Jesus Christ our Lord?
1. AND the manner how thou deliveredst me out of the bonds of desire, which I had unto carnall concupiscence, (wherewith I was most straight∣ly fettered) and from the drud∣gery of worldly businesse; will I now declare, and confesse unto thy name, O Lord my helper and my redeemer. My wonted unsetlednesse of mind grew more and more upon me; and I daily sent up sighes unto thee. Thy Church I resorted frequently unto, as my businesse (under the burden of which I groaned) would give me leave. Alipius was now in company with me;
having a time of leasure from his law-businesse, now after the a 1.35 third Sitting, expecting other Clients whom he might sell his counsaile unto; as I used to sell the skill of pleading; if that skill in the meane time, be not a gift of nature, rather than a purchase of Art. Nebridius had now so farre condescended to our friendly requests, as privately to instruct Ʋerecundus (a very fa∣miliar friend to all of us) a Citi∣zen and a Grammarian of Mil∣lan; who vehemently requested, and by the right of friend shippe did even challenge such a friend∣ly ayd from our company, as he very much stood in need of.
2. Nebridius therefore was not drawne to that paines by a∣ny desire of profit (for he might have taken more beneficiall courses, if hee had pleased to make use of his learning:) but being a most sweet and tractable companion, out of his respects
of courtesie, would not slight the request we made to him. But he carried it very discreetly, still wary of being knowne to those personages whom the world e∣steem'd great; declining thereby all breaking off the quiet of his owne minde, which he resolved to reserve free to himselfe, and at leasure as many houres as might be, for the seeking, or reading, or hearing something concerning Wisedome.
3. Vpon a certaine day there∣fore, Nebridius being absent (the occasion I doe not now re∣member) behold, there came home unto me and Alipius, one Pontitianus a Country man of ours, an Affrican, who had an b 1.36 office of good credit in the Em∣perours Court. What he would with us, I now know not: but downe together we sate, and in∣to discourse wee fell. It so hap∣ned that upon the table before us, which we used to play upon,
he espied a booke lying, up hee tooke, and opened it; and quite besides his expectation, found it to be S. Pauls Epistles, where∣as he rather thought it had been some of those bookes, which I ware out my selfe in the teaching of. At which he smiling to him∣selfe, and looking upon me (in congratulating manner as it were) wondered not a little, that hee had so unexpectedly found such a kinde of booke, and onely such an one lying before me. For hee was both a Christian, and Baptized too; and one that of∣ten used to prostrate himselfe before thee our GOD in the Church, in frequent and daily prayers. Whom therefore when I had once told, how that I be∣stowed much paines upon those writings; there began a speech (himselfe being the relater) of Anthony the Monke of Egypt: whose name was in most high reputation among thy servants,
though for our parts wee had not so much as once heard of him to that houre. Which when he had discovered, hee insisted the more upon that discourse, insinuating the knowledge of so famous a man unto us, and ad∣miring at that our ignorance of him.
4. But we stood amazed on the other side, hearing such won∣derfull workes of thine; so ge∣nerally testified, so fresh in me∣mory, and almost in our owne times, to be done in the true faith and Church Catholike. We all wondered; wee, to heare such great things reported; and hee, that we had never heard them. From this story of Anthony, tooke he occasion to discourse of some companies of Monasteries, and the fashions of thine owne sweet-smelling savour & the c 1.37 de∣sart
brests of the Wildernesse: of all which wee knew nothing. And there was at the same time a Monastery d 1.38 at Millan, full of good brethren, without the walls of the Citie, vnder Am∣brose the nourisher of it, and yet wee knew nothing of it. Hee went on with his tale, and wee listned to him with great silence. Hereupon tooke he occasion to tell, how himselfe (I know not at what time) and three other of his Comrades (and it was at Triers when as the Emperour was taken up with seeing of the Circensian chariot-races, one afternoone) went out to walke into the Gardens next the Citie Walls; where as it fell out, they sorted themselves into two com∣panies, one of the three keeping with him, and the other two walking at large also by them∣selves. But as these two were ranging up and downe, they stumbled by chance upon a cer∣taine
little house, inhabited by divers of thy servant, poore in spirit, of whom is the Kingdome * 1.39 of God: where they found a lit∣tle booke, wherein the life of Anthony was described.
5. One of them beganne to read, wonder at it, and to be in∣flamed with it; and even in the very reading to devise with him∣selfe upon the taking such a life upon him, and by giving over his secular imployments, to be∣take himselfe unto thy service. And this man was one of those Officers of Court whom they stile, e 1.40 Agents for the publike
affaires. Then suddenly being filled with an holy love, and a sober shame fastnesse, even angry at himselfe again, he cast his eies upon his friend, saying; Tell me, I intreat thee, what prefer∣ment is that unto which all these labours of ours aspire? what ayme wee at? what is it we serve the State for? can our hopes in Court rise higher than to be the Emperours Favourites? in which fortune what is there not brittle, and full of perills? and by how many dangers ar∣rive we at last unto one danger greater than all the rest? And how long shall we be in getting thus high? whereas if I be desi∣rous to become the friend of God, loe I am even now made it.
6. This hee said: And all in paine in the Travaile of newnesse of life, he turn'd his eyes againe upon the book and read on, and was inwardly changed where
thou alone couldst discerne him, and his minde was quite dispos∣sest of worldly cares, as present∣ly after it appeared. For as hee read forward, and rowl'd up and downe those waves of his heart, hee made expression of some indignation at himselfe, felt an inward conflict, and re∣solved finally of much better courses. And thus now become wholly thine, hee saith unto his friend, even now have I broke loose from those ambitious hopes of ours, and am fully resol∣ved to serve God onely; and this, from this houre forward, in this very place, will I enter upon: as for thee, if it irkes thee to imitate me, yet doe not offer to disswade me. Whereunto the other answered, that hee also would closely sticke unto him, as his partner in so ample a reward, and his fellow in so ho∣nourable a service. Thus both of them now become thine,
rear'd up a spirituall Tower with that treasure as is onely able to doe it, Of forsaking all and fol∣lowing thee. Potitianus then and the other that was with him, that had walkt over other parts of the Garden in search of them, came in the very nick into the same place where they were; and having there found them, put them in minde of going homewards, for that it beganne to grow something late. But they discovering their resolution and purpose unto them, and by what meanes that will beganne, and came to be setled in them; humbly desired they would not be troublesome to them, if so be they refused to joyne themselves unto them. But Potitianus and his friend no whit altered from their old wont, did yet bewaile themselves with teares (as he af∣firmed) piously congratulating with them, recommended them∣selves to their prayers; and tur∣ning
their hearts towards earth∣ly things, returnd into the Court. But the other two setting their affections upon heavenly, re∣main'd in that Cottage. And both of them were contracted to Sweet-hearts. Who having once heard of this busines, f 1.41 de∣dicated also their owne Virgini∣ty unto God. This was Potitia∣nus his story.
1. BVt thou, O Lord, all the while that hee was spea∣king, didst turne mee backe to reflect upon my selfe; taking
my intentions from behinde my back, where I had here∣tofore onely placed them, when as I had no list to observe mine owne selfe: and thou now setst mee before mine owne face, that I might dis∣cerne how filthy, and how crooked, and sordide, and be∣spotted, and ulcerous, I was. And I beheld and abhorred my selfe, nor could I finde any place whither to flee from my selfe. And if I went about to turne mine eye from off my selfe, yet did that tell mee as much, as Potitianus erst had done; and thou thereup∣on opposedst my selfe unto my selfe, and thrustedst mee ever and anon into mine owne eyes, to make mee finde at last mine owne iniquity, and to loath it. I had hereto∣fore taken notice of it; but I had againe dissembled it, winckt at it, and forgotten it. But
at this time, how much the more ardently I loved those two, whose wholsome purposes I heard tell of, even for that they had resigned up themselves unto thee to be cured: so much the more detestably did I hate my selfe in comparison of them. Be∣cause I had already lost so many yeares, (twelve or thereabouts) since that nineteenth of mine age, when upon the reading of Cice∣ro's Hortensius, I was first stir∣red up to the study of Wisdome; since when (having first despised all earthly felicity) I too long delaied to search out that, whose not finding alone, but the bare seeking, ought to have been pre∣ferred before all the treasures and Kingdomes of this world already found, and before all the pleasures of the body, though in all abundance to be comman∣ded.
2. But I, most wretched yong fellow that I was, unhappy even
in the very entrance into my youth; had even then begged chastity at thy hands, and said, Give me chastity and a 1.42 Conti∣nency, but doe not give it yet: for I was afraid that thou wouldst heare me too soone, and too soone deliver mee from my disease of Incontinencie; which my desire was, rather to have satisfied, than extinguished. Yea I had wandered with a sacrile∣gious superstition through most wicked wayes of Manichisme: not yet sure that I was right, but preferring that, as it were, be∣fore those others which I did not so much seeke after religi∣ously, as oppose malitiously. And this was the reason, as I thinke, why I deferred from day to day to contemne all hopes in this world, and to follow thee onely, for that there did not ap∣peare any certaine end, which I
was to direct my course unto. But now was the day come wherein I was to bee set naked before my selfe, and when mine owne conscience was to con∣vince me.
3. Where art thou my tongue? that tongue which saidest, how that for an uncertainty, thou wouldst not yet cast off the baggage of vanity. See, certain∣ty hath appeared now! and yet does that burthen still overload thee: whereas behold, others have gotten wings to free their shoulders by flying from under it; others, I say, who neither have so much worne out them∣selves with seeking after that certainty, nor yet spent tenne whole yeeres and more, in think∣ing how to doe it. Thus felt I a corrosive within, yea most ve∣hemently confounded I was with a horrible shame, when as Pontitianus was a telling that story. And he having done both
his tale and the businesse hee came for, went his way: and I said unto my selfe; nay, what said I not within my selfe? with what scourges of condemning senten∣ces lasht I not mine owne soule, to make it follow me, endevou∣ring now to go after thee, which yet drew backe? It refused, but gave no reason to excuse its re∣fusall by. All its arguments were already spent and confuted, there remained a silent b 1.43 trembling; and it feared, like the death, to bee restrained of the swinge of custome, which made it pine a∣way even to the very death.
1. IN the middest then of all this vast tempest of my
inner house, which I had so stou••∣ly rais'd up against mine owne soule, in our Chamber, my heart; all over troubled both in minde and countenance, upon Alipius I set, with open mouth crying out, What tarry we any longer? what is this? what heardest thou even now? The unlearned of the world start up and take the Kingdome by violence, and wee with all our learning wan∣ting heart, see how wee wallow us in flesh and blood. Because others are gone before, is it a shame for us to come after? or is it not rather a great shame not at all to goe after them? Some such words as these I then utte∣red, but what I know not: and in that heate away I flung from him, while with silence and a∣stonishment, hee wisely lookt upon mee. For my speeches sounded not now, in the kay they were wont to doe: yea my forehead, my cheekes, my eies,
my colour, and the accent of my voyce, spake out my mind more emphatically, than the words did which I uttered.
2. A Garden there was be∣longing to our lodging, which we had the liberty of, as well as of any other part of the house; for the master of the house our hoast, lived not there: Thither had the tempest within my brest now hurried me, where no man might come to non-suit that firy action which I had en∣tered against my selfe, untill it came to a good issue; but which way, God thou knowest, I doe not. Onely I was for the time most soberly madde, and I dy∣ed vitally; sensible enough what piece of misery for the present I now was, but utterly ignorant, how good I shortly was to grow. Into that Garden went I, and Alipius followed mee foot by foot: for I had no se∣cret retiring place if hee were
neere; or when did he ever for∣sake me, when he perceiv'd me to be ill disposed. Downe wee sate us; as farre yet from the house as possibly we could. I fretted in the spirit, angry at my selfe with a most tempestuous indignation for that I went not about to make my peace and league with thee my God, which all my bones cryed out upon me to doe, extolling it to the ve∣ry skies. A businesse it is which we goe not about, carried unto in Shippes, or Chariots, or upon our own legges, no not so small a part of the way to it, as I had comen from the house, into that place, where wee were now sit∣ting.
3. For, not to goe towards onely, but to arrive fully at that place, required no more but the Will to goe to it, but yet to Will it resolutely and throughly; not to stagger and tumble downe an halfe wounded Will, now on
this side, and anon on that side; setting the part advancing it selfe, to struggle with another part that is a falling. Finally, in these vehement passions of my delay, many of those things performed I with my body, which men sometimes would doe, but can∣not; if either they have not the limbs to doe them withall; or if those limbs bee bound with cords, weakened with infirmi∣ty, or be any other waies hinde∣red. If I teare my selfe by the haire, beate my forehead, if loc∣king my fingers one within a∣nother, I beclasped my knee; all this I did because I would. But I might have willed it, and yet not have done it, if so be the motion of my limbs, had not beene pliable enough to have performed it. So many things therefore I now did, at such time as the Will was not all one with the Power; and something on the other side I
then did not, which did incom∣parably more affect mee with pleasure, which yet so soone as I had the Will to doe, I had the Power also; because so soone as ever I willed, I willed it through∣ly: for at such a time the Power is all one with the Will; and the willing is now the doing: and yet was not the thing done. And more easily did my body obey the weakest willing of my soules in the moving of its limbs at her beck; then my soule had obeyed its selfe in this point of her great contentment, which was to receive perfection in the Will alone.
1. VVHence now is this monster? and to what purpose? Let thy mercy
enlighten mee that I may put this question; if so be those con∣cealed anguishes which men feele, and those most undiscove∣rable pangs of contrition of the sonnes of Adam, may perhaps afford mee a right answer? Whence is this monster? and to what end? The soule com∣mands the body, and is present∣ly obeyed: the soule commands it selfe, and is resisted. The soule gives the word, commanding the hand to be moved; and such readinesse there is, that the in∣stant of command, is scarcely to be discerned from the moment of execution. Yet the soule is the soule, whereas the hand is of the body. The soule com∣mands, that the soule would Will a thing; nor is the soule another thing from the soule, and yet o∣beyes it not the command. Whence is this monster? and to what purpose? The soule (I say) commands that it selfe would
Will a thing, which never would give the command, unlesse it willed it: yet is not that done, which it commanded.
2. But it willeth not entirely: therefore doth it neither com∣mand entirely. For so farre forth it commandeth, as it willeth: and, so farre forth is not the thing done, which is comman∣ded, as it willeth it not. Because, the Will commandeth that there * 1.44 be a Will; not another will but the same. Because verily it doth not command fully, therefore is not the thing done, which it commanded. For were the wil∣ling full, it would never com∣mand there should be a Willing, because that Willing was extant before. Tis therefore no mon∣ster partly to Will, and partly to Nill; onely an infirmity of the soule it is, that it being over∣loaded with ill custome, cannot entirely rise up together, though supported by Ʋerity. Hence is
it that there be two Wills, for that one of them is not entire: and the one is supplied with that, wherein the other is de∣fective.
1. LEt them perish out of thy sight O GOD, as those vaine bablers, and those sedu∣cers * 1.45 of the soule doe perish: who when as they did observe that there were two Wills in the act of deliberating; affirmed thereupon, that there are two kindes of natures, of two kinds of soules, one good, and the o∣ther bad. Themselves are truly bad, when as they beleeve these bad opinions: and the same men shall then become good, when they shall come to beleeve true opinions, and shall consent unto the true, that the Apostle may
say unto them, yee were some∣times darkenesse, but now are ye * 1.46 light in the Lord. But these fellowes would be light indeed, not in the Lord, but in them∣selves; imagining the nature of the soule, to bee the same, that God is. Thus are they made more grosse darkenesse, for that they went backe farther from thee, through a horrid arrogan∣cie; from thee, the true light that enlightneth every man that * 1.47 cometh into this world. Take heed what you say, and blush for shame: draw neere unto him and be enlightned, and your fa∣ces shall not bee ashamed. My * 1.48 selfe when sometime I delibera∣ted upon serving of the Lord my God, (I had long purposed) it was I my selfe who willed it, and I my selfe who nilled it. I, was I my selfe; I neither willed entirely, nor yet nilled entirely. Therefore was I at strife with my selfe, and ruinated by mine
owne selfe. Which ruining be∣fell me much against my minde, nor yet shewed it forth the na∣ture of another mans minde, but the punishment of mine owne. I therefore my selfe was not the causer of it, but the sinne that dwelt in me: and that as a pu∣nishment of that farre spreading sinne of Adam, whose sonne I was.
2. For if there bee so many contrary natures in man, as there be Wills resisting one another; there shall not now be two na∣tures alone, but many. Suppose a man should deliberate with himselfe, whether he should goe to their Conventicle, or goe see a Play; presently these Mani∣chees cry out, Behold, here are 2 natures: one good, which leades this way; and another bad, which drawes that way. For whence else is this mammering of the wills thus thwarting one another? But I answer, that both
these Wills be bad: that as ill, which carries to their Conven∣tiele; as the other, which leades unto the Theater. But they will not beleeve that Will to be other than good, which brings men to them. Suppose then one of us should deliberate, and through the dispute of his two Wills should be in a quandary, whether hee should goe see a Play, or come to our Church; would not these Manichees be as much in a quandary what to answer? For either they must confesse, (which by their good wills they will never grant) That the Will which leades to our Church is the better, as it is in them which goe to their Church, who are partakers of her sacraments, and detained in her obedience: or else must they suppose that there be two evill natures, and two evill soules in one man, which combat one a∣nother: or must they (lastly) be
converted to the truth, and no more deny, that in the Act of one mans deliberation, there is one soule destracted betweene two contrary Wills. Let them no more say therefore, that when as they perceive two wills to bee contrary one to another in the same party, that there bee two contrary soules, made of two contrary substances, from two contrary principles, one good, and the other bad, contending one with another.
3. For thou, O true God, doest disprove, check, and con∣vince them; like as when both wills being bad, a man delibe∣rates with himselfe, whether he should kill a man by poyson, or by the Sword? whether hee should take in this piece, or that, of another mans ground; when as he cannot doe both? whether hee should purchase pleasure, with prodigality, or keepe close his money, by covetousnesse?
whether hee should goe to the Chariot-race, or to the Sword-playes, if they were both to be seene upon one day? I adde also a third instance; whether hee should rob another mans house, had he the opportunity? and a fourth I add, or whether he shold commit adultery, had hee the meanes? it being presupposed, that all these concurred in the same instant of time, and that all these acts bee equally desired, which cannot possibly be all at one time acted.
4. For verily they tare in sunder the soule amongst foure severall Wills, cleane contrary to one another: yea, in such va∣riety of things which are desira∣ble, perchance among more than foure: yet use they not to af∣firme that there is any such mul∣titude of divers substances. Thus also is it in such Wils as are good. For I demand of them, whether it be a good thing to be delighted
in reading of the Apostle? and, whether it be a good mind to be delighted in a sober Psalme? or, whether it be a good art to dis∣course upon the Gospell? They will answere to each of these, That it is good. What now if all these equally delight us, and all together at the same time? Doe not divers Wills then rack the minde as it were, when as a man is deliberating, to which of all these he should chiefly be∣take him? yet are all these Wills good, although they all contend with one another; till such time as one of the three bee made choice of, towards which the whole Will may be carried, be∣ing now united, which was be∣fore divided into many. Thus also, when as eternity delights the superior parts, and the plea∣sure of some temporal good holds fast the inferiour; it is but one and the same soule which wil∣leth not This or That with an
intire Will; and is therefore torne a sunder with grievous perplexities, whilest it preferres This, overswayed by Truth; yet forbeares not That, made familiar to it by Custome.
1. THus soule-sicke I was, and in this manner tor∣mented; accusing my selfe much more eagerly than I was wont, turning and winding my selfe in my chain, till that which held mee might bee utterly broken; which though but little, yet held it me fast enough notwith∣standing. And thou, O Lord, pressedst upon me in my inward parts by a most severe mercy, redoubling thy lashes of feare and shame, lest I should give way againe, and lest the brea∣king
off of that small and slender Tye, which now onely was left, should recover strength a∣gaine, and hamper mee againe the faster. For I sayd within my selfe, Behold, let it be done now, let it bee done forthwith. And no sooner had I said the word, but that I beganne to put on the resolution. Now I even almost did it, yet indeed I did it not: yet notwithstanding fell * 1.49 I not quite backe to my old wont, but stood in the degree next to it, to fetch new breath as it were. Yea, I set upon it againe, and I wanted but very little of getting up to it, and within a very little, even by and by obtained I to touch and to lay hold of it; and yet could I not get up to it, nor come to touch, or lay full hold of it: still fea∣ring to dye unto death, and to live unto life: and the worse which I had beene an∣ciently
accustomed unto, pre∣vail'd more with mee than the better, which I had never tryed: yea, the very instant of time, wherein I was to become ano∣ther man, the neerer it approacht to me, the greater horror did it strike into me. But for all this did it not strike me utterly back, nor turn'd mee quite off, but kept mee in suspence onely.
2. The very toyes of all toyes, and vanities of vanities (those ancient favcurites of mine) were they which so fast with-held me; they shooke me by this fleshly garment, and spake softly in mine eare, Canst thou thus part with us? and * 1.50 shall we no more accompany thee from this time forth for ever? and from this time forth shall it no more bee lawfull for thee to doe This or That for ever? And what were those things which they suggested to mee in that phrase This or That, (as I
said) what were those which they suggested, O my GOD? Such, as let thy mercy utterly turne away from the soule of thy servant. Oh what impuri∣ties! oh what most shamefull things did they suggest! I heard * 1.51 them verily not halfe so neere hand now, nor now so freely contradicting and opposing me; but muttering as it were softly behinde my back, and even now ready to be packing, yet giving me a privy pluck to looke once more backe againe upon them: yet for all this did they make mee now againe delaying the time, much slower in snatching away my selfe, and in shaking them off, and in leaping from them, to the place I was called unto; namely, when as violent custome thus rowned me in the eare, Thinkest thou to be ever able to live without This or That.
3. But by this time it spake
but very faintly: for on that side which I set my face to∣wards, and whither I trembled to goe, was that chast dignity of Continency discovered; cheer∣full she was, but not dissolutely pleasant, honestly tempting me to come to her, and doubt no∣thing: yea stretching forth those devout hands of hers, so full of the multitudes of good ex∣amples; both to receive, and to embrace me. There were in company with her very many both Yongmen, and Maidens, a multitude of youth & of all ages: both grave widdowes and an∣cient Virgins, and Continence her selfe in the middest of them all, not barren altogether, but a happy Mother of Children of Ioyes, by thee her husband, O Lord. And shee was pleasant with me with a kinde of exhor∣ting quip, as if she should have said, Canst not thou performe what these of both sexes have
performed? or can any of these * 1.52 performe thus much of them∣selves, or rather by the Lord their GOD? The Lord their God gave me unto them. Why standest thou upon thine owne strength, and standest not at all? Cast thy selfe upon Him, feare not, Hee will not slippe a∣way and make thee fall; Cast thyselfe securely upon Him, He will receive thee, and Hee will heale thee. I blusht all this while to my selfe very much, for that I yet heard the muttering of those toyes, and that I yet hung in suspence. Whereunto Continence againe replyed, Stop thine eares against those uncleane members of thine which are up∣on the earth, that they may bee * 1.53 mortified. They tell thee of de∣lights indeed, but not such as the law of the Lord thy God tels thee of. This was the controversie I felt in my heart, about nothing but my selfe, against my selfe. But
Alipius sitting by my side, in si∣lence expected the issue of my unaccustomed sullevation.
1. SO soone therefore as a deepe consideration even from the secret bottome of my soule, had drawne together and laid all my misery upon one heape before the eyes of my heart; there rose up a mighty storme, bringing as mighty a showre of teares with it, which that I might powre forth with such expressions as suted best with them, I rose from Alipius: for I conceived that solitarinesse was more fit for a businesse of weeping. So farre off then I went, as that his presence might not be troublesome unto mee. Thus disposed was I at that
time, and he thought, I know not what, of it; something I beleeve, I had said before, which discovered the sound of my voyce to be bigge with wee∣ping, and in that case I rose from him. He thereupon staid alone where wee sate together most extremely astonished. I slung downe my selfe I know not how, under a certaine Fig-tree, giving all liberty to my teares: whereupon the floods of mine eyes gushed out, an acceptable acceptable sacrifice to thee, O Lord. And though not per∣chance in these very words, yet much to this purpose, said I un∣to thee; And thou, O LORD, how long? how long Lord wilt thou bee angry, for ever? Remember not our former ini∣quities: for I found my selfe to be still enthralled by them. Yea, I sent up these miserable excla∣mations, How long? how long? still to morrow, and to morrow?
Why not now? wherefore even this very houre is there not an end put to my uncleannesse?
2. Thus much I uttered, wee∣ping among in the most bitter contrition of my heart: when as behold, I heard a voyce from some neighbour house, as it had beene of a Boy or Girle I know not whether, in a singing tune saying, and often repeating, TAKE VP AND READE, TAKE VP AND READE. * 1.54 Instantly changing my counte∣nance thereupon, I beganne ve∣ry heedfully to bethinke my selfe, whether children were wont in any kinde of playing to sing any such words: nor could I remember my selfe ever to have heard the like. Where∣upon refraining the violent tor∣rent of my teares, up I gat mee; interpreting it no other way, but that I was from God him∣selfe commanded, To open the booke, and to read that Chapter
which I should first light upon. For I had heard of Anthony, that by hearing of the Gospell which he once came to the rea∣ding of, he tooke himselfe to be admonished, as if what was read, had purposely beene spo∣ken unto him. a 1.55 Goe, and sell that thou hast, and give to the poore, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven, and come and follow mee. And by such a miracle was hee presently converted unto thee.
3. Hastily therefore went I againe to that place where Ali∣pius was sitting; for there had I laid the Apostles Booke when as I rose from thence. I snatcht it up, I opened it, and in silence I read that Chapter which I first cast mine eyes upon: Not in rioting and drunkennesse, not in chambering and wantonnesse, not in strife and envying: But put ye on the Lord Iesus Christ; and make not provision for the * 1.56 * 1.57
flesh, to fulfill the lusts thereof. No further would I reade; nor needed I: For instantly even with the end of this sentence, by a light as it were of security now datted into my heart, all the darkenesse of doubting vanished away. Shutting up the booke thereupon, and putting my finger betweene, or I know not what other marke, with a well quieted countenance I discovered all this unto Alipi∣us.
4. And he againe in this man∣ner revealed unto me, what also was wrought in his heart, which I verily knew nothing of. Hee requested to see what I had read: I shewed him the place; and he lookt further than I had read, nor knew I what followed. This followed, Him that is weake * 1.58 in the Faith, receive: which hee applyed to himselfe, and shewed it me. And by this ad∣monition was he strengthened,
and unto that good resolution and purpose (which was most agreeable to his disposition, wherein he did alwaies very far differ from mee, to the better) without all turbulent delaying did he now apply himselfe. From thence went we into the house unto my mother; we discover our selves, she rejoyces for it: we declare in order how every thing was done: she leapes for joy, and triumpheth, and blesseth thee, who art able to doe above that which wee aske or thinke; For that she perceived thee to have given her more concerning me, than she was wont to beg by her pittifull and most dolefull groa∣nings. For so throughly thou convertedst me unto thy selfe, as that I sought now no more after a Wife, nor any other hopes in this world: thus being setled in the same rule and line of Faith, in which thou hadst shewed me unto her in a vision, so many
yeeres before a 1.59. Thus didst thou convert her mourning into re∣joycing, and that much more plentifully than she had desired, and that much more dearely and a chaster way, than she erst re∣quired: namely, if shee had re∣ceived, Grandchildren of my bo∣dy.
Psal. 86. 8. Psal 116. 16, 17.
Iob 1. 10.
1 Cor. 13. 12.
1 Cor. 5. 7
Ioh. 14. 6.
1 Cor. 7. 8.
Mat. 19. 12.
Rom. 1. 21.
Iob 28. 28
Pro. 3. 7.
Rom. 1. 22
Mat. 13. 46
The for∣mer Trans∣lator sayes, that he was either his Godfa∣ther, or his ghostly fa∣ther. Bold man! Ba∣ronius in Saint Am∣brose his life, could have taught him, that this Sim∣plicianus, being a wise and a religious man, was sent by Damasus Bishop of Rome, unto Millan purposely, to be the Adviser and Director of Saint Ambrose, then but a ••ong Bishop; therefore did Saint Ambrose love him as his Father. To this Simplicianus is Ambrose his second Epistle lib 4. directed. He also succeeded Ambrose in his Bish••pricke.
Col. 2. 8.
Mat. 11. 25
Famous Souldiers, Common∣wealths∣men, and Schollers, were, for in∣courage met of others, thus honou∣red at Rome.
Nep tune, Ve∣nus, and Minerva, were three of the Tu∣telar Gods of Rome, as Anubis (worshipt in shape of a Dog) was of Egypt: and the Romanes having conquered many Procinces, brought house their Gods, and worshipt them: So that Rome at last came to have 30000 Gods.
Psal. 144. 5
Luk. 9. 26.
Here be di∣vers parti∣culars of the Primitive fashion, in this Story of Victori∣nus. First being con∣verted, he was to take some well∣knowne Christian, (who was to bee his Godfather) to goe with him to the Bishop: who upon no∣tice of it, admitted him a Catechumenus, and gave him those sixe points of Catechisticall Doctrine, mentioned Heb. 6. 1, 2. When the time of Baptisme drew neere, the yong Christian came to give in his heathen name, which was presently registred; submitting himselfe to Exa∣mination. On the Eve, was be in a set forme, first, to renounce the Divell, and to pronounce, I confesse to thee, O Christ; repeating the Creed with it, in the forme here recorded. The time for giving in their names, must he within the two first weekes of Lent: and the so lemne day to renounce upon, was Maunday Thurs∣day. So bid•••• be Councell of Laodicea, Can. 45. & 46.
Luk. 15. 7.
This Les∣son out of S. Luke, was much in use in the Pri∣mitive Ser∣vice Booke: and especi∣ally after that Puri∣tane opini∣on of No∣vatus, who denyed all pardon or absoluti∣on to be given by a Priest, to any that committed a dead∣ly sinne after baptisme. Which severity these Para∣bles of S. Luke did so crosse, that the Ancients engraved the figure of a Shepheard with the lost Sheepe up∣on his shoulder, upon their Communion Cups, to shew how willing the Church was to receive Penitents to the Communion. See Tertul. l. de pudicitia, cap. 7. & cap. 10.
Ioh. 1. 12.
1 Cor. 1. 27.
Act. 13. 12.
Mat. 11.
Luke 11.
The Apo∣stata.
Gal. 5. 17.
Hee alludes unto Rom. 7. 18, 19, & 20, ver. &c.
He pleases himselfe here with a mili∣tary Meta∣phore.
Eph. 5. 14.
Rom. 7. 21, 23.
Post Assessio∣nem ter∣tiam.
In Pala∣tio mili∣tans. I here was militi∣a Togata, Ecclesiasti∣ca & Aul••∣ca, as well as Armata.
Monaste∣riorum gregis, & mores sua∣veolentiae tuae, et v∣bera deser. ta eremi. This the o∣ther Tran∣slator turnes Great numbers of Mona∣steries, where these things are performed which bee so pleasing unto thee, &c. Iudge Reader how the La∣tine can beare his construction: & how to make it, he puts 2. sentences into one. For Monasteries, see our Preface.
One Mo∣nastery at Millan thē, but how ma∣ny, and of how many severall or∣ders bee there now? Some, both at Rome and Millan he calls Di∣versoria (and not Monaste∣ria) who had no rule but that of charity, and a Priest to governe them. But in Mona∣steries they wrought for their livings. Aug. li. de Morib. Eccles. cap. 31. & 33.
Mat. 5. 3.
Agentes in rebus. There was a Society of them still a∣bout the Court. Their militia or imployments were: To gather in the Emperours Tributes: To setch in offenders: To doe Pala∣tina obse quia, offices of Court, provide Corne, &c. ride of ••rrands like Messengers of the Chamber, lye abread as Spyes and Intelligencers. They were often preferd to places of Magistracis in the Provinces: such were called Principes or Magistriani. S. Hierome upon Abdias cap. 1. calls them Messengers: They succee∣ded the Frumenta••ii. Between which two, and the Cu∣riosi, and the Speculatores, there was not much diffe∣rence. The other Translator because be understood none of this hath quite left out the sentence: Wisely.
Here the Popish Tran∣slator notes, A ••ow of Virginity after contract. True. Alas what would you have the poore wenches doe having lost their Sweethearts? What's this to Popish vowes? 1. Here's Gods extraordinary mo∣tion: whereas Nunnories are as much for the State as for the Church. 2. Most primitively were the Virgins kept still in their Fathers houses, as these did for ought we know. See our Note upon the next Chapter.
This was the Primi∣tive pra∣ctice, ever to premise prayer be∣fore vow∣ing; and still to inter∣mix prayers for ability to goe through their vowes. Surely J have seen di∣vers Masse∣books Por∣tuesses and peculiar to severall or∣ders of Fry∣ers, and to the Nuns of S. Clare &c. yet ne∣ver saw I there, a set Prayer for the gift of Chastity. But perchance they de∣sire it not yet, not whilst they are yong.
Reman∣serat muta trepid tio. This he turns There re∣mained onely a kinde of speech trembling. Noting in his margent, A rare expression. As rare as non sense.
In this and the former Chapter, hath the o∣ther Tran∣slator beene a Transla∣tor indeed; that is, a very Cob∣ler.
He confutes the Mani∣chees.
Eph. 5. 8.
Iohn 3. 9.
Psal. 34. 5.
The difficul∣ty of Con∣version rarely ex∣pressed.
See the blan∣dishments of Sinne.
Here hath the former Translator missed the sexse, in reading Contradi∣cens for Contradi∣centes, and Disce∣dens for Disceden∣tes.
I am afraid, that God makes not all the Fryers and Nuns amongst the Papists. I doubt all have not the gift of Continen¦cie: wee have exam∣ples to the contrary. Formall vowes, but materiall breaches of chastity. Vowing, and yet bur∣ning.
Col. 3. 5.
His conver∣sion by a voyce from Heaven.
By this it appeares that all Popish Fry••rs are not divinely called, For that so few elder bro∣thers take the Vow. Few rich el∣der brothers that sell al; many poore younger bro∣thers that have spent all. So that a Mona∣stery, is lit∣tle other than an Hospitall for the not∣sicke. They sell not all to to goe in; but goe in when they have sold & spent all.
Mat. 19. 21.
Ro. 13. 13.
Rom. 14. 1.
This visi∣on mentio∣ned lib. 3. cap. 11. She saw in Tegula lignea, as I read it in stead of Re∣gula, as here it is. I was war∣ranted to read it so, by my manuscript. And the Critieisme may passe: For besides that S. August. uses to play upon the words, (Tegula and Regula, lignea, and Linea) not improbable it is that his mother was then on the toppe of the house praying, when she had her vision. There did S. Peter pray and had his vision, Acts 10. 9. But I presse not this. Sure it is that the Rule of Faith, signified the Creed in those daies. So that she vision assured her, that her sonne should be of her Beleefe.