Purgatory surveyed, or, A particular accompt of the happy and yet thrice unhappy state of the souls there also of the singular charity and wayes we have to relieve them : and of the devotion of all ages for the souls departed : with twelve excellent means to prevent purgatory and the resolution of many curious and important points.

§. 7. Some motives fetcht even as farr as the other World, to stirr us up to be mindefull of the dead.

CArdinal Cajetan has a singular tenet, which will not a little help, to promote piety & deserves highly to be recorded, as a Doct∣rine, which suits well with the in∣finite goodness of our most just and mercifull God. The questi∣on is, what becomes of all the merit, of those Masses, and other suffrages, which are offered for souls, which are not in Purgatory? some hold, it is applied to their Parents, Alliance, or Frends, others to those that are so frend∣less, as to have no body to re∣member them, others to them that stand in most need of help, others will have it horded up with the rest of the Churches treasure. * 1.1 But this learned Cardinal main∣tains, that it goes all to relieve

their soules, who in this world were particularly addicted to pray for the dead. And what can be more reasonable? Accor∣ding * 1.2 to the measure, we deal out to others, it shall be measured to * 1.3 us again, give, and there shall be given to you, says Almighty God.

Who can lay a better claim to it then they? For first, the foun∣ders themselves, were they but half acquainted, with what passes in the other world, cannot but be well pleased at it. Then, it is a powerfull incentive, to encrease devotion in the hearts of all good Christians, who may hope in their turnes to reap the like fruit of their charitable labours, for the good of souls. And who can find fault, that such straggling suffra∣ges, which of right belong to no body, should be so profitably em∣ployed? This opinion is no Arti∣cle of faith, but is a very pious con∣jecture, worthy of that most emi∣nent Cardinal. And me thinks I

see the blessed souls themselves, for whom these holy suffrages were offered, to lye prostrate be∣fore the throne of God, beseech∣i••g him to apply them to those needy souls, who while they lived were so full of charity, as to for∣get themselves to be sure to re∣member them.

Me thinks I see the other Saints in heaven, who were handed out of Purgatory by the armes of cha∣rity, to be joynt-petitioners, and their good Angels also, and all of them together, to become earnest suitors, to obtain this fa∣vour of Almighty God, who is easily overcome in a suit of this nature, which is so rational, that the granting it must needs cry up his ineffable wisdome and mercy. And I cannot but think, that if the case were to be decided by the souls in Purgatory, they would all unanimously agree, that such suffrages as these, which out of meer ignorance, were misappli∣ed to those that could make no

benefit of them, cannot be better disposed of, then to their com∣panions, who in their life time were so charitable to other soules. This I take to be a very moving consideration, and yet I have just cause to fear, all I can say to you will hardly s••ffice to mollify that hard heart of yours, and there∣fore my last refuge shall be to set others on, though I call them out of the other world.

And first, let a damned soul read you a Lecture, and teach you the compassion you ought to bear to your afflicted brethren. Remem∣ber * 1.4 how the rich glutton in the Gospell, for all he was buried in hell fire, took care for his bro∣thers, who survived him, and be∣sought Abraham to send Lazarus back into the world, to preach, and convert them, least they should be so miserable, as to come into that place of torments. A strange request for a damned soul and which may shame you, that are so little concerned for the

souls of your brethren, who are in so restless a condition.

In the next place, I will bring in the soul of your dear father, or mother, to make her own just complaints against you. Lend her then a dutifull, and attentive ear, and let none of her words be lost, for she deserves to be heard o••••▪ while she laies forth the state o•• her most lamentable condition. Peace, It is a holy soul, (though cloth'd in flames) directs her speech to you after this man∣ner.

Am not I the most unfortunate * 1.5 and wretched parent that ever breath'd! I that was so silly, as to presume, that having ventured my life, and my very soul also, to leave my children at their ease, they would at least have had some pitty on me, and endeavoured to procure me some ease, and com∣fort in my torments. Alas, I burn unsufferably, I suffer infinitely, and have done so I know not how long, and yet this is not the only

thing that grieves me, alas no, it is a greater vexation to see my self so soon forgotten, by my own chil∣dren, and so slighted by them, for whom I have in vain taken so much care and pains. Ay, doest thou grudge thy poore Mother a Masse, a slight Alms, a sigh, or a tear; thy Mother, I say, who would most willingly have stoln bread out of her own mouth, to make thee swim in an Ocean of delights, and to abound with plenty of all worldly goods. See how proudly this unnatural Childe struts up and down, as fine as hands can make him, as glorious as the sun, while I his poore Mother have no other robes left me but scortching flames of fire: See how he empties my Coffers, to cast it upon his Horses and his Dogs, or upon men worse then either, and cannot finde the heart to lay out a penny in charitable uses for his poore Mother; his Gold flyes about the table, as nimbly as the Dice, he plays with, and in meere sport and

merriment, he throws away that, which cost me a world of pains, and perhaps was the occasion of my death, and my cruell confine∣ment to this place of torments. He cannot afford me so much as a Cup of cold water, wherewith to quench my flames, while he gl••ts himself with all superfluous and choice dainties. Am I not well served, for having had so little wit, and so little of common sense in me, as to trust this wretch, who has not a spark of good nature in him, to have the least feeling of my deplorable condition. Who will not refuse me comfort, when my own Children, my very bowels, do their best to forget me. What a vexation is it to me, when my companions in misery, aske me whether I left no children behind me, and why they are so haggard natured as to neglect me, what can I say, or what answer can I make but this, that I thought I had brought forth Children, but finde them to be mere Vipers and

Tigers. When I was upon my death bed, strugling for life, these hypo∣critical villans, feign'd themselves in despaire, their pale looks, their counterfeit tear••, their sighs, their sobs, their kind expressions, deli∣vered in soft and smooth lan∣guage, made me verily believe, they loved me, and wonne me to play the fool thus, to rely upon them, when God knows, they longed for nothing more, then to close up my eyes, and were almost ready to burst for mere grief, that I died no sooner, that they might have sooner enjoy'd the goods I had scraped together, with the hazard of my life, and poor soul too. I was willing to forget my own concernes, to be careful of theirs, and the ungrateful wret∣ches have now buried me in an eternal oblivion, and clear left me to shift for my self, in these horred tortures, without giving me the least ease, or comfort. O what a fool was I? had I given to the poor but the thousandth part

of those goods, which I left this unlucky Child, I had long before this been joyfully singing the prayses of my creatour, in the Quire of Angels, whereas now I lye panting, and groaning under excessive torments, and am lik•• still to lye by it, for any relief is to be lookt for, from this unduti∣fu••, and ungracious Child, I made my sole heir Go you mortals, go hereafter, and trust your chil∣dren, your kindred, and your heirs, that you may be treated by them, as I am by my son who was dearer to me, then the very apple of my eye. O it is the greate•••• piece of indiscretion in the whole world, to rely upon the discreti∣on, of indiscrete, and undutiful children, who had rather be scuf∣fling, and tugging one ano••her, for a part of our inheritance, then striving to help us out of our pains: Sure parents are either bewitcht; or grown senseless, to hazard their souls for such unto∣ward, and ill natur'd ch••••dren,

who have not a drop of good blood in their hearts, nor a grain of true filiall love. But am I not all this while strangely transpor∣ted, miserable that I am, thus to amuse my self with unprofitable complaints against my son where as indeed I have small reason, to blame any but my self, since it is I, and only I, that am the cause of all this mischief. For did not I know; that in the grand business of saving my soul, I was to have trusted none but my self? did I not know, that with the sight of their friends, at their departure, men use to loose all the memory, and friendship they had for them? Did I not know, that God him∣self had foretold us, that the on∣ly ready way, to build our selves eternal tabernacles, in the next world, is not to give all to our Children, but to be liberal to the poor? Did I not often hear it preached to me, that a cup of cold water, sometimes luckily bestowed, was sufficient to put out

Purgatory fire? Did they not as often ring it in my eares, that a wise man sends his good workes before him, and leaves them not for others to finish, as fooles do, who by that means, come to carry nothing with them but a shameful remorse, which lies like an aspe, at their breast, continually knawing, and devouring them. I cannot deny then, but the sault lyes at my dore, and that I am deserved∣ly thus neglected by my children. And were I disposed to wish harm to any body, I would wish them no greater mischief, then that their children should serve them, just as they have served me; I say, that the ungodly wretches may come hither, and be as much neg∣lected, and forgotten as I am, and see when it is too late, what it is to trust to the kindness of chil∣dren, which is commonly buried in the same grave with their pa∣rents. It is one of my greatest miseries, that I have not the face, to beg any comfort of God in my

sufferings, for whereas he clearly promised me all favour, so I would but be good to the poore, I have done the clean contrary, putting more confidence, in the uncertain performance of unwor∣thy children, then in the infalli∣ble truth of Gods word. The on∣ly comfort I have left me in all my afflictions, is that others will learn at my cost this clear maxim, not to leave to others a matter of so near concerne, as the ease, and repose of their own souls, but to provide for them carefully them∣selves. O God! how dear have I bought this experience, to see my fault irreparable, and my miserie without redress.

One must have a heart of Steel, or no heart at all, to heare these sad regrets and not feel. some ten∣derness for the poor souls, and as great an indignation against those who are so little concerned for the souls of their parents, and o∣ther neer relations. I wish with all my soul, that all those, who

shall light upon this passage, and heare the soul so bitterly to de∣plore her misfortune, may but benefit themselves half as much by it, as a good Prelate did, when the soul of Pope Benedict the eighth, by Gods permission, revealed unto him her lamentable state in Pur∣gatory. For so the story goes * 1.6 (which is not to be questioned) This Pope Benedict appears to the Bishop of Caprea, and conjures him to go to his brother Pope John, who succeeded him in the chayre of S. Peter, and to beseech him, for Gods sake, to give great store of alms to poor people, to allay the fury of the fire of Purgatory, with which he found himself sorely tor∣mented. He furthen charge•• him, to let the Pope know withall, that he did, acknowledge, liberal alms had already been distributed for that purpose, but had found no ease at all by it, because all the mony, that was then bestowed; had been acquired unjustly, and so had no power to pravaile, b••∣fore

the just tribunal of God, for the obtaining of the least mercy. The good Bishop upon this, makes hast to the Pope, and faithfully relates the whole conference, that had passed between him and the soul of his predecessor, and with a grave voice, and lively accent, ex∣aggetates the necessity and impor∣tance of the business, that in truth, when a soul lies a burning, it is in vain to dispute idle questi∣ons, the best course then, is to run instantly for water, and to throw it on with both hands, calling for all the help, and assistance we can to relieve her, that his Holiness should soon see truth of the vision by the wonderful effects which were like to follow. All this he delivers so gravely, and so to the purpose, that the Pope resolves out of hand, to give in charity vast summes, out of his own cer∣tain, and unquestionable revenue, whereby the soul of Pope Benedict was not only wonderfully com∣forted, but questionless soon re∣leased

of her torments. In con∣clusion, the good Bishop, having well reflected with himself, in what a miserable condition he had seen the soule of a Pope, who had the repute of a Saint, and was really so, it workt so powerfully with him, that quitting his Mitre, Crosier, Bishoprick, and all world∣ly greatnesse, he shut himself up in a Monastery, and there made a holy end, chusing rather to have his Purgatory, in the austerity of a Cloyster, then in the flames of * 1.7 the Church Patient. I wish again, they would in this but follow the example of King Lewis of France, who was son to Lewis the Empe∣rour, sirnamed the Pious. For they tell us, that this Emperour, after he had been 33. years in Purgato∣ry, not so much for any personal crimes, or misdemeanours of his own, as for permitting certain disorders in his Empire, which he ought to have prevented, was at length permitted, to shew himself to King Lewis his sonne, and to

beg his favourable assistance, and that the King, did not onely most readily grant him his req••est pro∣curing Masses to be said in all the Monasteries of his Realm, for the soule of his deceased Father, but drew thence many good reflecti∣ons, and profitable instructions, which served him all his life time after. Do you the same and be∣lieve it, though Purgatory fire is a kinde of Baptisme, and is so sti∣led by some of the holy Fathers, because it cleanses a soul from all the drosse of sinne, and makes it worthy to see God, yet is it your sweetest course, here to baptize your self frequently, in the tears of contrition, which have a migh∣ty power to wash away all the ble∣mishes of sin, and so prevent in your own person, and extinguish in others, those baptismal flames of Purgatory fire, which are so dreadfull.

Notes

• * 1.1

  A pious opi∣nion of Ca∣jetan.
• * 1.2

  Math. 7. 2.
• * 1.3

  Luc. 6. 38.
• * 1.4

  Luk. 16.
• * 1.5

  The Com∣plaint of Soule in Purgat••••y.
• * 1.6

  Baron. an. 1024.
• * 1.7

  Pith. Ba∣ron. an. 874