XXX sermons lately preached at the parish church of Saint Mary Magdalen Milkstreet, London to which is annexed, A sermon preached at the funerall of George Whitmore, Knight, sometime Lord Mayor of the City / by Anthony Farindon.

Let us now see the danger of this Humour, and the bitter effects it doth pro∣duce.

And first, This desire to be pleased placeth us out of all hope of succour, leaves us like an Army besieged, when the Enemy hath cut off all relief. It is a curse it self, and carries a train of curses with it; it makes us blinde to our selves, and not fit to make use of other mens eyes; it maketh our raine, powder and dust, Deut. 28. corrupts all that Counsel and instruction, which as moisture should make us fruitful, it makes us like to the Idols of the Heathen, to have eyes and see not, to have ears, and not to hear; living dead men, such as those to whom the Pythagoreans set up a Sepulchral Pillar; such as Plato sayes do 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 sleep in Hell; men made up of contradictions; in health, and therfore desperatly sick; strong and therefore weak, and never more fools, then when they are most wise; plus quàm oportet sapiunt, & plus quàm dici po∣test desipiunt, saith Bernard; they are wiser then they should be, and more deceived then we can expresse. Look on the Galatians, in this Epistle, and you shal see how this humour did bewitch them,

and what fools it made them, They had received the spirit by the hear∣ing of faith, but this spirit did shake and trouble them, frowned upon that, which they too much inclined to, and therefore they turn the ear from Saint Paul, and opend it to let in the poyson of Aspes, which the lips of those false Apostles carried under them, and for no other reason, but because they did 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 C. 6. v. 12. make a fair shew in the flesh, make them put on the form and shape of a Jew, to avoid the fury of the Roman, who did then tolerate the Jew, but not the Christian, and how many have we now adayes, who do Galatizari, as Tertullians phrase is, who are as foolish as the Galatians? and make this humour the onely rule, by which they frame and measure out their Religion? who make it as their Mistris, and love it most then when it is exploded? who will hear to teacher, but that Pharisee, who hath made them his Proselytes? Every man is pleased in his Religion, and that is his Religion, which pleaseth him; that he will relie upon, and Ana∣thema to Saint Paul, or any Angel, that shall preach any other Gospel but that. Our two Tables are not written with the finger of God, our Religion is not framed in the Mount, but here below, in the Region of Phantasmes by flesh and blood, which must not be despleased, but swells against every thing, that doth not touch it gently and flater it, and so makes us like to the beasts that pe∣rish, who have no principle of motion, but their sense; nay, worse then they, for they have no reason, but we have reason in∣deed, * 1.1 sed quae suo malo est, atque in perversum solers, but which is made instrumental against it self, taught to promote that, which it condemns, to forward that which it forbids, and serves onely to make us more unreasonable.

For again, in the second place, this humour, this desire to be plea∣sed doth not make up our defects, but makes them greater; doth not make vice a vertue, but sin more sinful, for he is a villain in∣deed, that will be a villain, and yet be thought a Saint; such a one as God will spue out of his mouth. And what is it to acknow∣ledge no defect, and to be worse and worse? to feign a Paradise and be in Hell? to have a name that we live, and to be dead? and what content is that, which is more mortal, then our selves, and will soon end, and end in weeping and lamentation? Better, far better, were it, that a sword did passe through our heart; that the hidden things of darknesse were brought to light, * 1.2 and the coun∣sels of our heart made manifest to us, then that it should be dead as a stone, senslesse of its plague; better we were tormented into health, then t hat we should thus play and smile, and laugh our selves into our graves look to upon those sons of Anack, those Gi∣antlike sinners against their God, who have bound up the Law, and sealed up the testimony, which is against them; who will do what

they please, and hear what they please, and nothing else, who deal with the Scripture as Caligula boasted he would with the Civil Law of the Romans, * 1.3 take care ne quid praeter eos loquitur, that it shall not speak at all, or not any thing against them; look upon them; I forget my self, for I fear we look upon them so long, till our eyes dazle at the sight, and we begin to think, that is not truth, which these men will not hear; but yet look upon them, not with an eye of flesh, but that of faith, an Evangelical eye, and it will rather drop then dazle; pitty then admire them. Oh infaelices, quibus licet pecca∣re, Oh most unhappy men of the World, who have line and liberty to destroy themselves, whom God permits to be evil (as in wisdom he may) and then in justice permits to defend it, whose Chariot wheels he strikes not off, 'till they are in the Red-sea, whom he suffers, when they would not hearken to his voice, to be smo∣thered to death with their own power, and the breath and ap∣plause of fooles; Oh 'tis the heaviest judgement in the world not to feel, and fear a judgement till it come. It may be said perhaps, what in all ages hath been said, and not without mur mur and com∣plaining, Behold these are the wicked, * 1.4 yet they prosper in their wayes; their pride compasseth them about as with a chain, their violence covereth them as with a garment, they feel no pangs, no throws, have no luctati∣ons, no struglings within them: they call themselves the children of the most High; and what evil can be to him that feels is not? what is Hell to him that is not sensible? but these are but the E∣bullitions, the breathings of flesh and blood, that sees no more of man, then his face and garment; for what seest thou? a pain∣ted Sepulchre, but thou doest not see the rotten bones within; thou seest Triumphs and Trophees without, but within are hor∣rour, and setench: thou seest the tree of life painted on the gates, open them, and there is fire and Brimstone, Hell and Damnation; thou hearest the tongue speak proud things, but thou seest not the worm, which gnaws within; all this Musick is but a Dirge sung at their Funerall, their joy but an Abortive, and an untimely Birth begat by pleasure, by power and wealth, a shadow cast from outward contentments, and when these depart, this joy pe∣risheth.

For in the third pleace; This humour, this desire to be pleased, doth not take the whip from Conscience, but enrageth her, layes her asleep to awake with more terrour. For conscience may be seared indeed, but cannot be abolisht, may sleep, but cannot die, but is as immortal as the soul it self. Conscience follows our know∣ledge, and it is mpossible to be ignorant of that, which I cannot but know; tis not conscience, but our lusts that make the Musick; for in the common and known duties of our lives, conscience doth not, cannot mislead us; whose conscience ever told him, that

Murder, or treason were virtuous? but our lust having conceived and brought forth sin, licks and shapes it to the best advantage; he that is taken in Adultery, will not say that Adultery is no sin; but that flesh was weak, and beauty importunate, saith Hilary; he that revenges will look more on the foulnesse of the injury, then the irregularity, and exorbitancy of his wrath; he that troubles the peace of Israel will make necessity his plea, or say, he troubles none but those that trouble Israel, and thus conscience may be supprest, but not totally, and for a time, but not for ever: it may be slumbered by diversion of the mind from trouble some thoughts, by immersing it in pleasures and delights, by the lullabies of Pa∣rasites and false Prophets, and so be in a manner held down by the weight of the flesh; But still it is not dead, but sleepeth; and then when these are removed, when pleasure shall turn her back, and worse side, when the false Prophets are dumb, when the flesh hath a thorn in it, will awake as a Giant out of wine, and be more Active and Clamorous then before, call in thy power, thy honour, subborn the the pleasures of the world to make thy peace; seek out some cunning Artist, who can teach what a Philosopher once profest 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 an Art of indolency, a way to be free from pain and grief; when thy conscience urgeth one place of Scripture, do thou answer it with another; when the letter killeth, do thou put life into it with a glosse, and when it puts thee to trouble, do thou strive to put it to silence, yet consci∣ence will be conscience still, and keep her sting, and bite and wound thee deeper yet; For to seek remedy against the gnawings of the conscience, from these outward formalities and flatteries, is to strive to take away grief with that, which is the cause of it, to de∣stroy it with that which begets it, to diminish it with that which increaseth it, and to cure a wound with poyson; what though we have some pause and ease? we can have no Holy-day, but what we make our selves, and that will make our other dayes more black and dismal; for that ease which I forced and gave my self, doth but multiply my pain and leave it to return upon me a∣gain with violence and advantage: nay, our conscience doth not stay so long, but many times layes hold on us in a triumph, in all our state and glory, and in our clearest day will break through all those Bulwarks which we have set up against her, and sieze upon us, when we shall say, we shall never be moved, will shake us, when we say Tush God doth not see, will strike through our loins, and when we plead, conscience will tell us we lie. When we breath nothing but spirit, will pronounce us most carnal Hy∣pocrites; will be as the finger on the wall, when we are quaff∣ing in the vessels of the Sanctuary, you will say, but who sees it? why, the king, the Sacrilegious kind saw it, who was guilty. For who can feel the sting of another mans conscience? and it is no

good argument to say, we do not see it, and therefore it is not done: for what close offender will publish the sorrow of his heart? who will tell you what stripes he feels, who is resolved to cleave fast to that, for which he is beaten? He whose wayes tend to death, when he makes most hast, and even feels himself falling in, yet wil not tell you he is going into Hell. And this is the sad condition of all those, who will, who must be pleased, who will heare nothing that is contrary to them, that is, nothing that may help them; who are devils to themselves, and help the Tempter to overthrow them, who never acknowledge a disease til it be incurable, never see them∣selves but in Hell, never feel any pain, till it be eternal.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Seneca.
• * 1.2

  1 Cor. 4.5.
• * 1.3

  Sueton Calig. c. 34.
• * 1.4

  Psal. 73.6,7.