Experience, historie, and divinitie Divided into five books. Written by Richard Carpenter, vicar of Poling, a small and obscure village by the sea-side, neere to Arundel in Sussex. Who being, first a scholar of Eaton Colledge, and afterwards, a student in Cambridge, forsooke the Vniversity, and immediatly travelled, in his raw, green, and ignorant yeares, beyond the seas; ... and is now at last, by the speciall favour of God, reconciled to the faire Church of Christ in England? Printed by order from the House of Commons.

The first Booke.

CHAP. 1.

THe Divines, authorized by Saint John in the begin∣ning of his Gospell, whom therfore Gregory the Great calls Evangelistarum A∣quilam, the Eagle of the Evangelists, beginning their discourses of Christ, with his eternall Generation, stile him, the word.

The Reason, is reason. Because as verbum

mentis, the word of the Mind, even after it cometh of the minde, doth still notwith∣standing remaine in it; the word of the Tongue perishing with the sound: So the Son of God, comming of his Father by a most ineffable, yet most true Generation, receiveth a personall distinction, and yet remaineth with and in his Father, by a most unseperable Unity of Essence. This blessed word, I call to witnesse, before whom wee shall answere for every idle word; that my words heere, in the matters of Experience and History, are so farre agreeable to the Divine word, that they are true: which is the first excellencie of words as they are words. The matters of Divinity will stand by themselves. I have read in the School∣men, that Omne verum est à Spiritu Sancto, Every Tru••h comes from the Holy Ghost. I will bee sure to tell truth: and upon this ground, truth being told, every man may be sure from whom it comes; & fix upon it in the deduction of the Conclusions, it virtual∣ly containeth; as upon the firm Principles of a Science. I am not ignorant, that sometimes it is a sin to speak truth: because there may be a falshood committed, though not spo∣ken: as a false breach of true Charity, which many times obligeth to secrecie. And these times, the speaking of truth, is indeed a lie;

because such a sin, and against God, who is Truth, even as he is Truth. But I know it for a Maxime: Against a publique enemie of the Church of God, we may lawfully and religiously speak all Truths. It is a rule a∣mongst Casuists: Certa pro certis habenda; dubia ut dubia sunt proponenda: in a Relation, certain things are to be proposed as things certain, and doubtfull, as doubtfull. Let no man doubt, but I will certainly dresse every thing in cloathes according to its degree.

Hence followes a lesson, and it falles within my lesson. God was in all eternity, till the beginning of the World; and but one word came from him, and that a good one, as good as himselfe: and not spoken, but as it were, onely conceived. Words are not to bee thought rashly; and if not to bee thought, not to he spoken; because we think not in the sight of our neighbours; but we speak in the hearing of our neighbours: and if not to be spoken, not to be written; because we write with more deliberation and more expence of precious Time; and words are more lasting, when they are written. I will heare what Christ says to his Church, in the Canticles, Thy lipps are like a thread of Scarlet, and thy speech is comely. Saint Hierome translates it, Sicut vitta, thy lipps are like a Fillet, or Haire-lace. They are

compared to a thread of Scarlet, for the comlinesse of the colour: and therefore it followes, And thy speech is comely. Thomas Aquinas his lips are like Scarlet, and his speech is very comely, in the Exposition of this place. He sais, that, as ordinarily, women vse a Ribon, or fillet, in the gathering up of their haire, an extravagancie of Nature: So ought we to bind up our lips, & keep under knot, the looseness of vain and idle words; that loose thoughts may not gad abroade into words, and lose themselves and the Speaker; and then our speech will be comly.

CHAP. 2.

GOds great, & last end in all his actions, is himself, and his own Glory. For, the end of the best, must be the best of Ends: and the best of Ends, must be the best of things. Our ends, if conformable to his end, do bor∣row more, or lesse light, & perfection frō it, in bending more, or lesse neer to it. Our chief end, that is, our end, which all our other ends must observe, and wait upon, ought to be the same with his end, in the World: because it is the same with his, in Heaven; the sight, and fruition of him. A good end will not sanctifie a bad Action. Howso∣ever

we are call'd, wee are not Religious, if we set on fire the Hearts of Princes, and stir them to arms; that by the burning of Cities, the depopulation of Countries, & the mur∣dering of men, women, and children, and by unjust intrusion upon the right of others, the holy Church may encrease and multiply. We are not of the society of Gods people, if we devise, and labour to blow up the joy, and flower of a Kingdome, with a powder∣mine; moved by a pious intention, to pro∣mote the good of the Catholike Cause. These pious intentions, and pious frauds, have play'd the very devils in the world: and they are the more dangerous, because they goe drest like Angels of light, and are be∣leeved to come from Heaven. The Di∣vines teach good Doctrine, when they say, Bonum ex integra causa, malum ex quocun{que} defectu; Good must be compleat in it's kind, and furnished with all requisites: one of which being wanting, the action is not compleat in morality, and therefore, not so good as it should be. The matter of the Action must be good: the manner of the performance good, and the End good. Which though it be extrinsecall to the Acti∣on, is intrinsecall to the goodnesse of it. I suppose, if the matter and manner, be indiffe∣rent, they are good in some degree; but

the End crowns the goodnesse of the work; for, it is the most eminent of all that stirre in it. Non est faciendum malum vel mini∣mu, ut eveniat bonum vel maximum; The least evill is not to be done, that the greatest good may follow the doing of it. And it stands with good reason. For, the smallest evill of sinne, as being laesio infinitae Majesta∣tis, the traiterous wounding of an infinite Majestie, would be greater, than the good which could follow. And moreover, com∣mitted in that kinde, would cast a most foule aspersion upon God: to wit, that, hee were, either not able, or not willing, to bring about in it's appointed time, the good he would have done, but by evill perfor∣mances. It appeareth here, that the perfor∣mance of good, is hard: of evill, easie. My end is good: and more then good,su∣perlatively good. For, it is God's end; God and his Glory in the first place; and in the second, the good and godlinesse of my neighbours: that some may cease to doe evill, learne to do well; others stand fast En su ser y puesto, as the Spaniard speaks, in the being & position of wel-being, in which, God hath placed them; and that all may love God, and praise him; and when they see, or heare of this little Book, may looke up to the great one above, & sing to him, a love-song,

the song of the Angels, that best know how to sing; Glory be to God in the highest. And as my end is good, my action is not evill, either in the matter, or manner, or circum∣stances: because the milde relation of one truth, which may be lawfully related; and the zealous defence of another, which may be lawfully defended: and all this, in a good, and acceptable time.

CHAP. 3.

BUt, all is not required on my part. The Reader likewise hath his task. It was an old custome in the Grecian Church, in a time, when the current of zeale, and religi∣on, ranne more pure, because more nigh to the fountaine Christ Jesus, that, in the be∣ginning of divine Service, the Deacon ap∣peared in the full view of the Congregati∣on, and cried aloud, Sacra sacris, holy things, to holy things: holy soules, to holy ser∣vices. The Reader is now, upon a high ser∣vice; and his soule must be all Angelicall. There is a certaine kinde of shell, that lyeth alwayes open towards Heaven; as it were looking upward, and begging one fruitfull drop of dewe: which being fallen, it ap∣prehends the greatnes of the purchase, shuts

presently, and keepes the dore against all outward things, till it hath made a pearle of it. Every man desireth naturally, in the first motion of his desire, the conservation of himselfe: in the second, the bettering of his owne estate. It is in the reading of pi∣ous Books, as in the hearing of Sermons. If we open our shells, our soules, the Heavens will drop their dewe into them, the fruit∣full dewe of Grace: to be imployed wor∣thily, in making pearles of good works, and solid vertue. Here is matter of Meditation, and matter of Action: and they are both en∣tirely conformable to the mixt life, which is the most perfect. It is the life of the Angels. Abram requiring a signe of God, by which he might know, that hee should inherit the land of Canaan, received this an∣swer; Take me an Heifer of three yeares old, and a shee Goat of three yeares old, and a Ram of three yeares old, and a Turtle Dove, and a young Pigeon. His Sacrifice must consist of creatures that flye, and creatures that onely goe upon the ground. The Goers must all be of three yeares old; in their full strength, and vigour of Nature. The Flyers were on∣ly, the Turtle Dove, and the young Pigeon; whereof the first is a mourner; the second, a most harmlesse, and quiet Liver. As our Bookes, so our lifes must be divided be∣twixt

action and contemplation; and the action must be the Action of youth, and strength: and our thoughts, that are all upon the wing, and the Ministers of Con∣templation, must first be mourners, and then, white, harmelesse, and heavenly: and this will be to us, a sure signe, that we shall inherit the land of Canaan. And because the devill is an old Thiefe, that cares not from whom he stealos: wee must learne of Abram, of whom it followes; And when the fowles came downe upon the carcasses, A∣bram drove them away. The devils tempta∣tions cannot be hindered from making to∣wards the sacrifice; or, from setling upon it: but we may drive them off, before they fall too, they must not carry a bill-full away. Quodemit, saith S. Austin of Christ, tanti emit, ut solus possideat: What he bought, he therefore bought at so high a rate, that a∣lone he might possesse it all.

CHAP. 4.

I Shall now expose my selfe to the censure of people, that have divers natures, and divers religions: and some will frowne, others laugh; others speake merrily, some furiously, as their affections move them;

and as the present state, in which they are in, shall prompt them. But how divers so∣ever they be, I shall be still one and the same. Yet I could wish, we were all of one minde, not that they might speake well of mee, (for, I am too too plyable to the temp∣tations of Pride, and shall be glad to be humbled by them) but that they might please God. It is a high and deepe observa∣tion, which the Bishop of Pontus hath in his Epistle to Leo the Emperor, Cùm nul∣lus ignoret, quia Sanctae & laudabilis Trini∣tatis primum bonum sit pax, & indivisio. Vn∣de & Deus unus & est, & esse creditur; No un∣derstanding man is ignorant, that the first good thing in the blessed Trinity, considered as the Trinity in Unity, is peace, and indi∣vision. Wherefore God both is, and is belee∣ved to be one, by vertue of this peace, and indivision. And as our God is three and one, I would to God, wee were many and one. But this will never be, while the Pope com∣mands so much, and the Jesuits obey so much. One of the lesse principall ends of my writing, is the same with the end of warre, to speake with a Councell, ut in pace vivamus, that I may live in peace. Bonum exercitus, saith Thomas Aquinas, ad bonum civitatis ordinatur. An Army is not raised, but to maintaine the peace of a Citie, or

Common-wealth. And before I have done, it will be acknowledged, they have endea∣voured to disturbe my peace. As for well∣disposed people, I desire them to learne; that God speakes not in his owne person to us. For, besides that he stands infinitely a∣bove us, in greatnesse, and majestie: he is a spirit. He sends messengers to us, some in the freshnesse of the morning, some in the heat of the day; some from one place, some from another; some from beyond France, and Germany, and even from Rome it selfe; and those, of the same forme and fashion as we are, that wee should not start at the apparition, with the priviledge of this faire promise to them: He that heareth you, hea∣reth me: and hee that despiseth you, despiseth me: and he that despiseth mee, despiseth him that sent me. Heere is a gradation, without a fallacy: and the strength of it relyes up∣on the mission, by which, Apostles are sent by Christ; and Christ was sent by his Fa∣ther; and upon the authority of the Com∣mission given to them. Where note, that the Father sends, but is not sent; for, mission supposeth in the sender, at least a kinde of priority: the Sonne is both sent, and sends; the holy Ghost sends not, but is sent. The children of Israel desired, that Moses, one of their owne company and acquaintance,

might speak to them. For, God was so loud, and terrible in the delivery, that he seemed to crush, and overwhelme mortality. Speak thou with us, (said they to Moses,) and wee will heare: but let not God speak with us, lest we dye: For, hee speaks thunder and light∣ning; and the trumpet sounds when hee speaks, and perhaps, hee is preparing for a battell: and when he speaks, the mountain smokes, and the fire cannot be farre off. I will say something: And yet, I will not say it. But if I should say it: what can the Pa∣pists say? The Church which gives a missi∣on, gives it as she tooke it from Christ. As she tooke it from Christ or his Apostles, she was a pure Church. As shee was a pure Church, she gave, and now giveth because she hath beene a pure Church, and received her warrant in her purity; when shee gi∣veth a mission, authority to preach against all impurity both in faith and manners, ei∣ther in her selfe, or else-where. And behold, being sent, I am come. Now, let us answer in some kinde to Gods kindnesse. It is one part of wisedome in a serpent, commended, and commended to us, by one who loved us dearely: that going to drink, he cleanseth every secret corner, and dark turning of his mouth, from poyson. Be yee wise as serpents. Moses was cōmanded to put off his shooes,

because it was holy, & consecrated ground. All terrene thoughts, and earthly affections, bemired with treading deepe in the world. All sinister opinions, and judgments, steeped in prejudice, are here to be layd downe, or purified. Almighty God hath indeed, a little good ground in the world: but it is duly and daily weeded & manured; well clear'd from stones and briars, before the heavenly sower comes to work. Here therefore, even here, before we take another step, let us turn the face of all our thoughts towards God, to stand like officious, and dutifull servants, attending upon the nod, and pleasure of our great Lord, and Master. Behold, as the eyes of servants looke unto the hand of their Ma∣sters, and as the eyes of a Mayden unto the hand of her Mistresse: so our eyes waite upon the Lord our God, untill that he have mercie upon us, sayes the sweet singer of Israel. We must place our eyes upon the hands of our Lord. For, the hands are the instruments of work: and it is in our duty, to be ready, when God gives, as it were with his finger, the first touch of actuall grace, that we may joyne our soules by his help, with him, in vertuous action.

CHAP. 5.

IT is an old Axiome, as old as Philosophy, Veritas una, error autem multiplex, Truth is one, and error manifold. Truth must needs be one, because it hath but one first origine, and such a one as is most constant to it selfe, and can never be found in two contrary tales. And error must needs be ma∣nifold, because it hath many fountaines, and such as seldome mingle their streames, and seldome agree wholy in any thing, but in this, that they all erre, and runne beside the channell. There are many wayes out of the way, and but one true way: as there is but one health, yet many sicknesses; but one way to be borne, yet many wayes to dye. And man, ever since he first erred, is very prone to erre: and having erred, stops not in the first error; but adds presently error to errour, by loving, and admiring his owne errour. And errour is not alwayes desirous to be a neat, and a fine errour, but now and then, it will be grosse. The snow is evident∣ly white. Who will say, in the hearing of a reasonable creature, that snow is not purely white? And yet, a wise Philosopher, whose name, and memory have out-stayd the melt∣ing of many snowes, beleeved it was black:

and the maine point of his doctrine was, that sence playd foule with reason, and snow was black. We are all mortall: some of us dye every day; and all, in a due time. Yea, saith S. Ambrose, Vitae hujus principium, mortis exordium est: nec prius incipit augeri vita nostra, quàm minui. Cui si quid ad icitur spatii temporalis, non ad hoc accedit ut mane∣at, sed in hoc transit, ut pereat. The first en∣trance into this life, is the beginning of death: neither doth our life begin to be en∣creased, before it beginneth also to be di∣minished. To which if any time be added, it doth not come to remaine with us, but to leave us, and come no more. Those, who lived in the Age before us, our Fathers and Grandfathers, are dead, and turn'd to dirt; and we now in their places: we also, must shortly dye, and turne to dirt, and o∣thers succeed us; and they likewise, must take their turne: and thus, we all turne by turnes, one after another, into plaine dirt; and this is the meane, and homely end of all our bravery. And yet, an infamous sect of Heretikes in S^t. Justine, firmely beleeved, they forsooth were immortall, and should never dye: and this, although they saw the brethren of their Sect sicken and dye like other men; and then be buried in Graves, and there lye still. The old Annals of Egipt,

and Italy, tell us, that Flouds, Trees, Mice, Cats, and Crocodiles, were honoured by the Egyptian Sages, for gods; and when the Cat kill'd the Mouse, they said, one god in his anger, destroyed the other, the more great, the lesser: and as meane creatures, by the Roman Senatours. And as S. Justine ob∣serveth, the same creatures were esteemed, as they were, Beasts by some; by others used as Sacrifices to please the gods; and by a third sort, adored as gods. Three things S. Austen would have seene, if God had so ordered it in his providence; Paulum in ore, Romam in flore, Christum in corpore, Saint Paul the divine Oratour, in his flourishing time of preaching the Gospell, Rome in her flower, Christ in his body. And in Rome, when she was in this pompous estate, the Ague was honoured as a Goddesse; and there also, by ill fortune, ill Fortune had her Temple: Feare, Palenesse, what not? The Lacedaemonians, all the time of their life, adored death. Amongst another wise Ge∣neration of people, rich Altars were dedi∣cated to Poverty, and old Age. Another grave Tribe beleeving fire to bee a most powerfull God, travelled from Country to Country, in the reigne of Constantine the great, and provoked by a generall Chal∣lenge, the Gods of other Countries to en∣counter

their God, And overcōming them, as being compacted of wood, or other mat∣ter, subject to fire; they came at last, to A∣lexandria in Egypt, where the River Nile, by the due spreading of which, that Coun∣try is fatned, was accounted a God, The statue of Nile being brought forth, as it was, hollow and full of water, having on every side, little holes covered with wax, and fitted in all points for the purpose, and fire being applied, for a set battell, the wax melted, the water found way, and the victo∣rious God Fire was put out; and there was an end of the journey. And all these people, cried up for Gods, the things they concei∣ved to be good, ut prodessent, that they might help, and profit them: and the things they found to be hurtfull, nè nocerent, that they might not hurt them.

CHAP. 6.

MAhomet in his Alcoran, describing the Turks Paradise, saith, it is beauti∣fied with pleasant Brooks, enriched with beautifull fruits, adorned with rich hang∣ings, and the like. We may fitly say of him, as Eusebius saith of Cerinthus, an old Here∣tick, who thought and taught, that the hap∣pinesse

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of the other life consisted in the plea∣sures of marriage, to be enjoyed in the ful∣nesse of delight, for a thousand yeares, in Hierusalem: Quarum rerum cupiditate ipse ducebatur, in eisdem beatam vitā fore somnia∣bat; He dreamed, happinesse to be placed in those things, with which himselfe was tickled. And the Thalmudists, the stricter, and more rigid part of Jews, have stuffed their Expositions with most idle Stories: as, that God doth punish himselfe at certain times, for having beene so rough to them; and the like stuffe. The Indian Priests were as vaine, who instilled this doctrine into all their simple Followers; that when a Ma∣ster should dye, the Servants ought all to kill themselves, that so, they might readily serve him in the other world. A grave Au∣thor writes of a people so fond, that the first thing they saw in the morning, was their God, for that day: and so perhaps, they lo∣ved as many Gods as they lived days. It hath been alwayes the maine plot of the devil, to canker, and corrupt the world, with false opinions; and chiefly, with the practice of Idolatry. For, as the understanding is opi∣nionated; so the will works: and if wee faile in the keeping of one of the two first commandements, wee strike at the head of him that enableth us, in the keeping of all

the rest. The devout Christians in the Pri∣mitive Church, went in great numbers, to see the places, wherein Christ was borne, was conversant, and was crucified. But the devill had quickly so stirred in the businesse, and squared the matter by the power of the Pagan Emperours, that the Christians com∣ming afterwards, and thinking to finde the crib in Bethleem, found the image of Adonis, Venus her white Boy; and found nothing of the Crib, but onely, that it was not to be found. And turning from thence, to mount Calvarie, they found the scene chang'd there also; and beheld the statue of Venus, placed with such evident signes of open warre against Christ, and the profession of his name and faith, Ʋt si quis Christianorum (saith Ruffinus) in illo loco Christum adorare voluisset, Venerem videretur adorare; that when the sincere Christian should come with a rectified will to adore Christ; his action, if not his devotion, might goe a wry, and honour Venus. The devill would faine have taught them, to adore an Image, which they saw, rather then God, whom they saw not. And even amongst Christians, the de∣vill, who in other matters, is alwayes the wilde Authour of Confusion and Disorder; hath yet, opposed the Articles of the Creed in order. For first, Simon Magus, Marcion,

and others, strove against the title of God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth. Secondly, Arius in the first generall Coun∣cell of Nice in Bithynia, laboured against the Divinity of Jesus Christ his onely Sonne, our Lord. Thirdly, Macedonius planted his En∣gine against the Holy Ghost, and was con∣demned in the Councell of Constantinople. Which observation may be also made plain, in the other Articles. And because the Holy Ghost is the great directour of the Church, and enemie to the devill in his oppositions of it; hee still had a blow at the Holy Ghost, first in Theodoret, who denied the procession of the Holy Ghost from the Son; and now, in the Grecians. But we shall heare more of him anon.

CHAP. 7.

VVHat mervaile now, if greene in Age, and shallow in experience, I gave up my soule, into the black hands of errour? The causes of my closing with the Church of Rome, were three. First, a consi∣deration of the great sinnes of this King∣dome: and especially, of that open, scan∣dalous, and horrible sinne of Drunkennesse; which my soule hateth. And I weakly ar∣gued

from a blemish of manners, in particu∣lar persons, to a generall, and over-spread∣ing corruption of Faith. My thoughts re∣presented a drunkard to me, sometimes in this manner. What is a Drunkard, but a beast like a man, or, something lower then a beast? When he is in his fit, no sense will performe his fit office. Spectacles in all fi∣gures, appeare to him: hee thinks, hee sees more shapes, then God ever made. A cloud settles in his eyes; and the whole body be∣ing overflowne, they seeme to float in the floud. The earth seemes to him to nod, and hee nods againe to it; trees to walk in the fields; houses, to rise from their places, and leape into the Aire; as if they would tumble upon his head, and crush him to a Cake; and therefore, he makes hast to avoid the danger. The Sea seemes to rore in his cares, and the Guns to goe off; and he strives to rore as loud as they. The Beere begins to work; for, he foames at the mouth. Hee speaks, as if the greater part of his tongue were under water. His tongue labours upon his words: and the same word, often repeated, is a sentence. You may discover a foole, in every part of his face. Hee goes like — like what? nothing is vile enough, to suit in comparison with him; except I should say, like himselfe, or like another

drunken man. And at every slip, he is faine to throw his wandring hand upon any thing; to stay him with his body, and face upwards, as God made him. Ʋmbras saepe transiliunt sicut foveas, saith S. Ambrose: Comming to a shadow of a post, or other thing in his way, hee leapes, taking it for a ditch. Canes si viderint, leones arbitrantur, & fugiunt, sayes the same Father: if he sees a dogge, he thinks it to be a Lyon; and runs with all possible hast, till hee falls into a puddle; where hee lyes wallowing, and bathing his swinish body, like a hogge, in the mire. And after all this, being restored to himselfe, he forgets, because hee knew not perfectly, what hee was, and next day returnes againe to his vomit. And thus he reeles from the Inn, or Tavern, to his house, morning and evening, night and day; till, after all his reeling, not being able to goe, hee is carried out of his House, not into the Taverne, alas, hee cannot call for what hee wants; but into his Grave. Where being layd, and his mouth stopt with dirt, hee ceases to reele; till at last, hee shall reele, body and soule, into hell: where, notwith∣standing all his former plenty, & variety of drinks, hee shall never be so gracious, as to obtaine a small drop of water, to coole his tongue. Then if it be true, as it is very likely,

which many teach, that the devils in hell, shall mock the troubled imagination of the damned person, with the counterfeit imita∣tion of his sinnes, the devils will reele in all formes before him, to his eternall confusion. In vain doth S. Paul cry out to this wretch, Be not drunk with wine wherein is excesse: but be filled with the spirit. For, the same vessell cannot be filled with wine, and with the spirit, at the same time. In vaine doth hee tell him, that wee should live soberly, righte∣ously, and godly in this present world. Sobriè, saith S. Bernard, nobis, justè proximis, pie au∣tem Deo: Soberly, in our selves, righte∣ously or justly, towards our neighbours; and godly, towards God; alwayes remembring, that we are in this present world, and that it is but 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, the present point of Time, and but one instant, that we enjoy at once. And somtimes, in this manner, my thoughts shewed me a drunken man. Hee is a most deformed creature; one that lookes like the picture of a devill; one, who stands knock∣ing at hell-gate, and yet it is not able to speak a plaine word, and call for mercy; one that could stand and goe, but now, lyes all along in his owne filthinesse; one, that is loathed by the Court, and all the Citizens of Heaven; one, that for the time, doth not beleeve, that there is a God, or that Christ

died for the sinnes of the world; one, that may be lawfully thought, a man of little wit, and lesse grace; one, who is the Ow•• of all that see him, and the scorne, and abo∣mination, even of his drunken companions▪ one, who if he should then dye, would cer∣tainly be a companion of devils, in hell fit•• for ever; one, that is ready to commit adul∣tery, murder, treason; to stab or hang him∣selfe; to pull God out of Heaven, or, doe any thing that is not good. And if it be a firme ground, that, putting our selves into the occasions of such and such sins, we are as guilty of them, as if wee had committed them; although we did not formally, and explicitely intend them: how many great sins, hath one act of drunkennesse, to an∣swer for? Drunkennesse is most hatefull to God, because it putteth out the light of Reason, by which, man is distinguished from a beast, and all better lights with it, and throwes a man beneath Gods creation; and therefore, drunkennesse is more or lesse grievous, as it more or lesse impeacheth the light and sight of Reason. Natura paucis contenta, Nature is contented with a little; quam si superfluis urgere velis, saith Boetius, which if you shall urge, and load with su∣perfluous things, you will destroy. And one over-chargeth his stomack, and vainely

casteth away that, for want of which, or the like, another daily crieth in the streets with a lamentable voyce, Good Sir, for Gods sake, pitty these poore fatherlesse chil∣dren, ready to starve; one is hungry, and ano∣ther is drunken. And the great end of the Creator, was, to supply necessity, and the necessity of every creature. And Sobriety, and Temperance are faire vertues; which even the Glutton, and Drunkard doe praise, and magnifie. If wee turne aside into the Church-yard, wee shall finde it a dry time there. There are no merry meetings under ground; no musick, no dancing, no songs, no jesting company: Every body sleepes there, and therefore, there is no noise at all. Perhaps indeed, as men passe to the Church, or to their places in the Church, they point to such a Grave, and say; There lyes a drun∣kard, hee is sober enough now; but much against his will. And thus, his memory is as loathsome to all good people, and those who passe by his Grave to their devotions; as his rottennesse. These representations winned me to think, that the Practitioners in this Art of Beastilinesse, could not be of any Religion: because S. James bindeth Re∣ligion downe to practice. Pure Religion, and undefiled before God, and the Father, is this, To visit the fatherlesse and widowes in

their affliction, and to keepe himselfe unspotted from the world. But although I had learned in some sort, to compound, I had not yet learned to distinguish.

CHAP. 8.

MY second Reason of joyning hands with the Church of Rome, was; be∣cause I framed to my selfe, the imagination of an excellent Sanctity, and a spotlesse Re∣collection of life, in their Orders of Reli∣gion. And my thoughts fed upon this, and the like matter. The last end of man, and his Creation, is Blessednesse; being the vi∣sion, or fruition of God; which is, an eter∣nall Sabbath, or, an everlasting day of rest, in him. And therefore, the soule of man, which bendeth towards this end, chiefly de∣sireth rest. For, God would not, (I had al∣most said, could not) create man for an end, and not imprint in him, a strong desire of it. Heavey things, belonging to earth, will not of themselves move towards Heaven; nor yet, stay loytering betwixt Heaven and Earth, unlesse arrested, and held by force: but haste to the center of the world, the earth, their true place of being, in which, and in which onely, they take their naturall

rest. And the nigher they come to the cen∣ter, their soft bed of rest, (if we may beleeve Philosophy) the more hast they make. The gentle Dove, before the tumult of waters began to settle, could finde no place to settle in; no sure, no solid rest for her foot: and the silly thing had not learn'd to swim. This tumult of waters in the world, will never end, till the world ends. And therefore, O that I had wings like a Dove: for then would I flie away, and be at rest. Not feet like a Dove, but wings. I have gone enough. I have been treading, and picking upon dung∣hills a long while. And now, I would faine be flying. And not hanging upon the wing, and hovering over dunghills: but fly∣ing away. And not flying away, I know not whither; but to the knowne place of rest: For then would I flie away, and be at rest. And not wings like a Hawk, or Eagle; to help, and assist me in the destruction of others: but wings like a Dove; by which I may secure to my selfe, the continuance of a quiet, and innocent life. I would looke upon the earth, as God does, from above. I would raise my thoughts above the colde, and dampish earth; and fly with the white, and harmlesse Dove, when the fury of the waters began to be asswaged, to the top of a high mountaine, the mountaine of con∣templation:

standing above the reach of the swelling waves, above the stroke of thunder, and where little, or no winde stir∣reth. That, as our dearly-beloved Master, Christ Jesus, prayed upon a mountain; that is sent up his flaming heart to Heaven, from a mountaine: yet farther, was transfigured upon a mountaine, that is, brought downe a glimpse of the glory of Heaven, to the top of a mountaine; and beyond either of these, ascended, himselfe, to Heaven from a moun∣taine: So I dwelling upon the mountaines of Spices, as it is in the Canticles, may enjoy a sweet Heaven upon Earth, and sweeten the ayre, in every step, for the direction of o∣thers who shall follow, drawne by the sweet savour of my example. And standing over the world, betwixt Heaven and earth, I may draw out my life in the serious con∣templation of both: singing with Heze∣chiah, I will mourne as a Dove. Here will I rest my weary feet, and wings: and my body being at rest, I wil set my soul a work. I will mourne as a Dove▪ my thoughts ha∣ving put themselves out of all other service; and now, onely waiting upon my heavenly Mate; and uttering themselves, not in arti∣culate, and plaine speech, but in grones. And at last, set all on fire from Heaven, I may die the death of the Phoenix, in the bright

flames of love towards God, and man; and in the sweet, and delicious odours of a good life. Come, my beloved, let us goe forth into the field: let us lodge in the Villages, Sayes the Spouse to the Bridegroome. Come then, my beloved, O come away, let us goe forth, there is no safe staying here: we must goe forth. And pry thee, sweet, whither? into the field: you and I alone. The field: where is not the least murmure of noise. Or if any, but onely a pleasant one (such musick as Nature makes) caused by the singing of Birds, and the bleating of Lambs, that talk much in their language, and are alwayes doing, and yet, sinne not. Or, if we must of urgent necessity converse with sinners: if the Sun will away, and black Night must come: if sleepe will presse upon us, and we must retire to a lodging-place: heare mee, (and by our sweet loves, deny mee not) let us lodge in the villages, out of the sight and hearing of learned dissimulation, and false bravery: where sin is not so ripe, as to be impudent; and where plaine-fac'd simpli∣city knowes not, what deceit signifies. In the field, we shall enjoy the full, and open light of the Sun: and securely communicate all our secrets of love. And when the Body calls to bed, and sayes, hee hath serv'd the soule enough, for one time; we may with∣draw

to yonder Village, and there we shall embrace, and cling together quietly; there wee shall rest arme in arme, without di∣sturbance. And do'st thou heare? when we wake, wee will tell our dreames, how we dreamt of Heaven, and how you and I met there, and how much you made of me: and then up, and to the field againe. O, did men and women know, what an unspeak∣able sweetnesse arises from our intimacie, and familiarity with God: and from our daily conversation with Christ: What in∣wardly passes betwixt God, and a good soul: and how lovingly they talk one to another: and how they sometimes, as it were whi∣sper, sometimes speak aloud: sometimes de∣liver themselves merrily, sometimes in a mournfull tone: and how prettily the soul will complaine, and cry to him, and relate her griefes over and over: and how order∣ly Christ keepes his times of going, and comming againe: and what messenger•• passe betwixt them, in his absence: and af∣terwards, what a merry day it is, whe•• they meet: and what heavenly matte•• Christ preaches to the soule: and how afte•• the Sermon, the soule condemnes the world and abominates all the vanities of it; an•• would faine be running out of it, if it coul•• tell which way, and not run from Chris••

all the sweetnesse of this world, would be gall, and extreame bitternesse to them: they would relish nothing but Christ: they would scarce endure to heare any man speak, that did not speak of Christ: his very name would give a sweet taste in their mouthes: they would seeke him; and they would be sick, till they found him: And having found him, they would let goe all, and hold him fast. And then, the remem∣brance of their labour in seeking him would be sweetnes it self to them. Our Saviour be∣fore his passion, ascended according to his custome to the mount of Olives: and there drew himself, even from his own Disciples. For, as S^t. Luke describeth it, He was with∣drawn frō them about a stones cast, and kneeled downe, and prayed. About a stones cast, for the peace, and privacie of his owne Recol∣lection: And but a stones cast, for the safe∣ty, and security of his Disciples. And cur∣sed be the Traytour, that brought a vile rabble of seditious persons upon him, to breake his mysticall sleepe, and to cut the fine thred of his calme and quiet devotions. Thus did my thoughts spread themselves: imagining, this could not any where be found, but in a Monastery. My last reason was, because being carried away with a great streame, the desire of knowledge; it

being the Philosophers Principle in the first grounds of his Metaphysicks, Omnis homo naturâ scire desiderat, Every man by nature desireth to know: I plunged my selfe into the depth of profound Authors, Bellarmine and others; and was lost in the bottome. And hurried with these motives, I left with a free minde, Kings Colledge, and the University of Cambridge, upon Christimasse Eeve; that I might avoid the receiving of the Sacrament, the next day: for which I was in particular, warned to prepare my selfe. But the divine Providence went with mee, and plainly shewed mee by my owne eyes, and by my eares, and by other knowing powers, perfected with know∣ledge in some measure, with which God hath endued me, that my reasons were as weak, as I was young.

CHAP. 9.

I Shall now, (and I cannot help it) lay o∣pen, and uncover the faults of others. But who am I, that I should doe this? Have I not great faults of my owne? O, I have. Lord, have have mercy upon me, a misera∣ble sinner: and upon them, and upon all the world. I am one of those, to whom God gave a faire preheminence over all other earthly creatures. I was shaped by him in

my mothers wombe; and tooke up by him, when I fell from her. I was guided through all dangers by him, in my weake infancie, and ignorant childhood. I was reserved by him, for the law of grace, and the faith of Christ. I am furnished by him, with all kindes of necessaries, for the fit main∣tenance of life: and have beene delive∣red by him, from a thousand thousand mis∣chiefes, bending the bow both at soule and body. I had lost my life the other day, and beene carried hence with all my sinnes upon my back; had not he stept in to help me. I have beene moved every day to good∣nesse, by his holy calls, and inspirations. He puts bread and meat into my mouth, every day; having strangely brought it from ma∣ny places, by many wayes, through many hands, to me. Hee covers my nakednesse, every day. He hath preserved, and restored me from sicknesse: and disposeth all my af∣faires, with all gentlenesse. And yet, I have play'd as foule with him, as any man. Be∣hold, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sinne did my mother conceive mee! I am thronged with unruly passions, madd, if let loose to wickednesse. I goe and grow crookedly, and stoope very low, under a mighty bur∣then of sinne: and am prone to all mischief, and of my selfe, ready for all attempts, and

wicked enterprises against God. For, if God should withdraw his preventing Grace, I should quickly be guilty of any sinne, that ever any man or woman committed. It is granted that I am the void, and empty Cave of ignorance; the muddy fountaine of evill concupiscence; dark in my understanding, weake in my will, and very forgetfull of good things: and that, left to my selfe, I am not my selfe, but a devill in my shape. All this is true. And yet, I have beene the Cap∣taine of an Army against him, by whom on∣ly, I can be set at liberty, and freed from all these evills. God is so perfectly knowing, so compleatly wise, that no sinne, though lying hid in the dark thoughts, and quiet privacie of the heart; though covered with the mists of the morning, or the darknesse of the night, can escape his knowledge: so throughly good, that no sinne can please him; so wonderfully powerfull that no sin∣ner can flie from him, though hee should have wings to help his feet. He is the end∣lesse, boundlesse, bottomlesse heape of all perfections. He is infinitely stored with all kindes of perfect worth, and beauty: and therefore, most worthy of all true love, and honour. And this All of perfections, is my all in all: He is one, and a great one, that I make very angry with me every day; and

yet striking, hee shakes his head, pulls back his hand, and is very loth to strike: Hee would, but will not. Hee beares with mee from day to day; and hopes well of mee: breaths upon me, blowes upon me with his holy spirit: waters mee with his heavenly grace, and benediction: diggs about mee, with lessons and instructions of all sorts, and with good examples on every side; expe∣cting good fruit from mee. And this good great God have I struck with many faults.

CHAP. 10.

VErily, I have deserved, that, because I have defiled all the Elements with my sins, as I goe, the earth at every step should sink under mee: that it should open, and swallow me with a wide throat, into hell. That water, when I first come where it is, should leape into my face, and stifle mee: that, when I open my mouth, to receive the sweet benefit of ayre, nothing but mists, and foggs, and the plague should enter: that fire should not onely cease, and denie to warme me; but also, flie upon mee, hang about me, and burne me to ashes: that heat and cold should meet together in the clouds, and without much threatning, break out up∣on

me, as having bin neither hot nor cold; & strike me dead with a clap of thunder: that, because all my zeal was but a flash, a flash of lightning should burne mee to a coale, and leave mee standing without life, a blasted man, all black and dried, to scare others from sinne. That, because I playd the Beast, in erring against the rules of reason; beasts, and unreasonable creatures of all kindes, should lie every where in wait to destroy me: that the Birds of the Aire, should break into my House, catch the bread out of my hand before it comes to my mouth, and car∣rie away the very meat from my Table; because they deserve it, better then I: that Spiders should empty their poyson, into my drink: that because I stript my soule, and rob'd her of her wedding garment; no kind of garment should ever be able to hang upon my back. I have deserved, that, be∣cause I have infected my Brethren by evill example, the hearts and hands of all men should be turned against me; that, as I passe in the streets, men and women should laugh at me in scorne; and mock me, as they doe fooles & mad men: and that, because I have beene a stumbling-block to youth, Boyes and Girles should run after me with a noise; and that their Parents, and people of all sorts, should throw dirt in my face. Indeed,

I have deserved, that because I have sinned in the sight of the Angels, the Angels of Heaven should arrest me in the Kings name, whom I have offended; take me, and deli∣ver mee to all the devils of Hell; and that they should throw me with all their might, into the bottome of Hell; and follow after me with an out-cry, that should make the foundations of the earth shake. For, having playd the notorious Rebel against the Crea∣tor of all things; I have most justly deser∣ved, as often as I have sinned that all things, all creatures should rise up in armes against me. And with what heart, or face shall I stretch out my hand against the faults of others? But, it is not my owne quarrell. I speake in Gods behalfe.

CHAP. 11.

I Was reconciled to the Church of Rome in London, by an English Monk: and by him recommended to a Jesuit: who sent me to the English Colledge at S. Omers in Flanders. And the better to passe at Dover; I was put by an English Monk, into a habit like an Italian, and indeed, like the Monk as he goeth in London: and joyned in com∣pany, with a young Gentleman an Italian

Traveller, who was now in his returne to∣wards his Country. Having passed for an Italian, not only in clothes, but in Country; and being landed at Calice in France: it hapned, that I travelled from thence to St. Omers, with a Jesuit, and a young Scholler, which he brought with him out of England: and they had come in the Ship wherein I passed. Hee was apparrelled like a secular Gentleman, and wore a little Ponyard by his side. And we three mingling discourse, as we journeyed, he told us, that the Pony∣ard was given him by a Catholike, a deare friend of his; upon a condition, that hee should kil a Pursuivant with it. God knows, I lie not. By a Pursuivant, hee meant one of the Kings Messengers, which are imployed in the search, and apprehension of Priests and Jesuits. But O my Lord, and my God, can this be the veine, and the spirit of the Primitive Church? or, doth it taste of the meeknesse, and gentlenesse of Christ our sweet Saviour, either in his life, or doctrine? With the first, it cannot agree. For S^t. Cy∣prian is plaine in the matter: Nos laesos di∣vina ultio defendet. Inde est, quòd nemo no∣strum se adversus injustam violentiam, quam∣vis nimius, & copiosus sit noster populus, ul∣ciscatur. God wil revenge our wrongs. And therefore, not one of us doth lift up his hand

against unjust violence, although our people be many, and our strength great. Wee are patient, not that we cannot resist the power of our persecutors; but because we may not resist them, having received power from God: to which wee ought to submit our selves, wheresoever we finde it. With the second, it may not hold in either of the two branches. It sutes not with the doctrine of Christ; who saith to Peter, having smote off the eare of an inferiour servant, though he had left his head behinde: Put up againe thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword, shall perish with the sword. It is not of the same colour, with the life of Christ; of whom Saint Paul testifieth, that he hum∣bled himselfe, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the Crosse. Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him. Hee was first depressed, and then, exalted: and hee was therfore exalted, because hee had beene de∣pressed: and he was highly exalted because he had beene depressed as low as death, and the death of theeves, and murderers: and he depressed himselfe, but hee was exalted by God. Well now. It is not agreeable with this, or with that. Yet, I well know, with what it agreeth. And you shall know, as well as I. With the doctrine, and practice of the Church of Rome. God turn the hearts

of her children. But, I must turne to Christ againe. Mee thinks, it is a mervailous plea∣sant thing, to looke upon him. The obedi∣ence of his humility waded as farre as it could find bottome. It is a witty difference, which S^t. Gregory maketh betwixt obedi∣ence and sacrifice. Obedientia victimis praepo∣nitur; quia per victimas aliena caro; per obedi∣entiam verò, voluntas propria mactatur. Obe∣dience is preferred before sacrifice: because in sacrifice, other things; in obedience, our owne wils are kill'd; that is, mortified, and offered to God. And therefore, the night before our deare Saviour was made actu∣ally obedient unto death, hee discovered two wills, in one soule. His humanity, ha∣ving a revelation of what he was to suffer; and now, sweating bloud in the serious contemplation of it, his inferiour will cri∣ed out, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup passe from me. But the superiour will, soone ended the controversie: neverthelesse, not as I will, but as thou wilt. The inferiour will was it selfe, in the reasonable part; or it could not have beene capable of such a high kinde of willing. A little more obe∣dience to Christ, and his law, would not ill become those great Professors of obedience. Christ alloweth us to runne in our own de∣fence; but not to resist; if the power be law∣full,

that opposeth us, and we subjected to it: and if it commeth from God, it would be lawfull, though it should not doe lawfully, what it doth: lawfull in it selfe, though not lawfull in the exercise of it selfe: and it can not be resisted in the exercise, but it must be resisted in it selfe: for, power is never seene in it selfe, but altogether in the exercise of it selfe.

CHAP. 12.

IT is the course of the Jesuits at St. Omers, to send every yeare in the time of Harvest, two missions of English Schollers, into re∣mote parts of the Christian world: one, to Rome in Italy; And another to Valladolid, or Sevil in Spaine: and these places in Spaine, receive their missions by turnes. In all these places, are English Colledges: Whereof the Superiours, or Governours, are Jesuits: the rest, Schollers, chalked out for secular Priests. By secular Priests I understand, not regular Priests; neither Jesuits, nor Monks, nor Friars; but Priests, without any farther addition: whose primarie charge in their Institution, by which they differ from o∣thers, is, to teach and instruct secular peo∣ple, and to reside in Benefices, and be Parish

Priests. Here, I have a notable trick to dis∣cover, and I shall ever stop, and stand ama∣zed, and ponder the malice of the Jesuits, when I think of it. Their best, and most able Schollers, they send alwayes, to Spaine: and onely, their weaker vessels, to Rome; in their ordinarie proceedings: whereof some are lame, some crooked, others imperfect in the naturall part of speaking. The reason of it, is excellent knowledge. The Schol∣lers being with them, and subordinate to them in their Colledges, and now, far from their Country: it is a great portion of their labour, to win them by favours, promises, threats in the by, and much cunning, to be Jesuits: and so, they never leave any (if all they can doe, will doe withall) for the Se∣cular Priests, but the leane and bony end, and the refuse of them. For, the Jesuits and the Secular Priests, are great opposites; and much contrary in their opinions: and the weaknes of the one wil help negatively, to the strength of the other. The Pope being informed of this Jesuiticall device, gave a command at Rome, where his power is ab∣solute in all kindes: that every Scholler, the yeare of his probation being expired, should bind himselfe by an oath, not to en∣ter into any order of Religion; till after three yeares durance in England. And then,

they began to set on foot the trick I told you of. But, if one desires admittance into a mission, who by reason of some defect, (for example, the defect of having entred into an order, and returned with dislike) cannot according to their rules, be a Jesuit; if hee comes with strong, and able commendati∣ons, they will send him to Rome, though he be a deserving man; that he, and such as he, may stand like a good face, or a fresh colour, over the device, that lyeth inward. They have a very godly-fac'd answer to this ob∣jection: and say; these imperfect creatures are as God made them; and they are sent over by their poore friends, to be Priests; and we that weare out our bodies, and lifes in the education of Youth, have good reason to chuse the sounder part: and they which come to us, are not taken from the Church, but restored to it, in a more excellent man∣ner. But, first, according to their own Prin∣ciples, they are bound to goe along with the Founders intention; and the Founder intended the maintenance, for able men. Se∣condly, they doe not performe their obli∣gation of Charity towards the body of the Clergie, which they notably maime, and disable: and yet, in those places they are onely Stewards for the Clergie. Thirdly, they doe great injurie both to their Church,

and their cause; which suffereth oftentimes by such Martyrs of Nature, and such unskil∣full Defenders: Some of which, cannot read Latine, nor yet hard English. See how God worketh for us, by their sins. Fourth∣ly, they delude the Popes command con∣cerning the oath, and wholly frustrate his purpose; and their fourth vow of obedi∣ence to his Holinesse, stands for a cypher in this businesse. And much more. What re∣maineth now, but that malice is predomi∣nant in the action; and that they make themselves Gods, and turne all to their owne ends?

CHAP. 13.

AT S^t. Omers, their manner is, to make triall of every one that comes; what nature, and spirit hee is of, and what pro∣gresse he hath made in learning; partly by applying subtill young Lads to him, which keepe him company, and turne him out∣ward, and inward againe, and make returne of their observations to the Jesuits: and partly, by their owne sifting him, either in discourse, or examination, or in some other more laboured exercise. Which triall when I had undergone, an old Jesuit, gray in ex∣perience,

and a crafty one, and one, whose name you have in your minde, when you think Not, being then Vice-provinciall of the English Jesuits, look'd soberly upon me, and told me of a spirituall exercise, in use amongst them, which would much pre∣ferre me in the service of God, if I was plea∣sed to make use of it. I yeelded. And the next day, in the evening, I was brought into a Chamber, where the Curtaines were drawne, and all made very dark; onely, a little light stole in at a corner of the win∣dow, to a Table; where stood pen, ink, and paper: and order was given me by my ghostly Father, a cunning man, a man that did not walk in the light, that I should not undraw the Curtaines, or speak with any person but himselfe, for certaine dayes; and what the spirit of God should inspire into my heart concerning my course of life, I should write; there being pen, ink, and paper. And he left a Meditation with mee, the matter of which, was indeed, very heavenly; and hee brought every day two or three more. Hee visited me two or three times a day; and alwayes, his question was, after, how doe you childe, and so forth? What? have you wrot any thing? Feel you not any particular stirrings of the spirit of God? And alwayes, I answered plainely,

and truly, no. Having beene kept in dark∣nesse, some dayes; and alwayes left to a more serious, and attentive listning after the holy Ghost; and perceiving no signes of a releasement; I began to suspect, what the man aim'd at. And I prayed heartily, that my good God would be pleased to direct me. Think with me: Had these Meditati∣ons beene appointed meerely, and precisely for the elevation of my soule to God, they had beene excellent: but perverted, and abused to serve mens ends, they were not what they were. But I thought, I would know farther e're long. The holy man came againe, and still enquired, if I knew the minde of the Holy Ghost. My answer was: I did hope, yes; but I was loth, be∣cause ashamed, to speak it. Being encoura∣ged by him, I said; That in my last Medita∣tion, the spirit of God seemed to call me to the Society. Hee knew the phrase, and the sense of it, was, God moved me to be a Je∣suit. He presently, caught up my words, and told me, I was a happy man, and had great cause to blesse God for so high a calling; with much, to that purpose. And when he had his end, my Meditations had their end, and the Curtaines were drawne, and having beene enlightned from Heaven, it was gran∣ted, that I should enjoy the light of the

world; and there was all the good man look'd for. But, had not the Holy Ghost spoke as he did, hee would not have beene thought, to speake like the Holy Ghost. And now, I was brought downe from my dark Cell, with great joy, and lightsom∣nesse; and all the Boyes were unexpected∣ly sent abroad with me that afternoone, to recreate their spirits, and be merry with the new-borne childe. Yet afterwards, a per∣formance being required of what I had pro∣mised, my heart gave back. For, I had been counselled by some of the lesse Jesuited Schollers, to goe in a mission, and read far∣ther in the practice of the Jesuits, before I took their habit. Which the Jesuits labou∣red to prevent, telling me, their numbers in their missions were full. I stood to it, and gave them no ground; saying, I would re∣turne to England, if I went not: and so, they sent mee in the mission, to Valladolid in Spaine. But I saw with both my eyes, they were in good hope, to gaine me afterwards. Many are of opinion, that a great cause of these great disturbances in the world, is, be∣cause men walk not in those vocations to which God hath called them. The ordina∣rie vocation is, when a man findes, (after a fit imploring of Gods help) in the due exa∣mination of his heart, that he can best, and

most proportionably to his abilities, serve God in such an honest course, lying within the reach, and condition of his life. And undoubtedly, these foule wayes, are so ma∣ny wrestings of Gods spirit. Me thinks now, a man may throughly meditate, every day if he please, both whence hee came, and whi∣ther hee goes, in little England: where hee may doe it freely, and sweetly; and where, in the doing of it, no man will have a plot upon Him, or urge him to exact upon the Holy Ghost. And lest the Jesuits should imagine, wee are here altogether destitute of such helps, and for the benefit of my neighbour, I will set downe a Meditation in this kinde: and he ownes it, that desires with all his heart, to serve God with all his might; and by him, they may guesse of others.

MEDITATION. I.

I Will fold my selfe inward, and ponder seriously, what and where I was, some few yeares agoe: what and where, before my Father was borne, or, when hee was a childe. If I lay aside an odde trifle of dayes, if I take away a short course of running time, No man or woman now living was

alive. Creeping things, though they could but creepe, did live, and rejoyce in a com∣fortable being. And other little creatures had wings, and were able to flie readily, here, there, and here againe; and other wayes, upwards, and downwards. And we, vvho now goe vvith such a grace, and look so full-eyde, and build to our selves such Babels in our imaginations, had no kinde of Being. These Churches, these Townes, this Kingdome, this heap of Kingdoms the vvorld, vvere as vvee see them: but vvee vvere not heard of, not because vvee vvere a great vvay off, but because vve vvere not. Were not heard, vvere not seene, vvere no vvhere, and all, because vve vvere not. Quae non sunt, quomodò ambulabunt, aut loquentur? sayes the Philosopher. The things vvhich are not, how shall they vvalk, or talk? The very same Sunne, that rises and sets for us, did shine, now red, now pale, upon the vvorld; and constantly runne his dayes journey, and keep the same times. Such birds of the same colours, did sing merrily to the same tunes; and hop from branch to branch, and flie from tree to tree, as now they doe. Beasts and Fishes, in the same, the very same diversity of shapes, followed their severall instincts of nature. The Bees made honey, that differed nothing from ours, but onely

because it vvas not the same. The vvindes blew cold, and vvarme; and vvarme, and cold againe. The Beech, and Poplar; the Cedar, and Oke did grow, upwards and downwards; and every one vvas knowne by the leafe, by vvhich, vvee distinguish them. Brooks took their courses. The Sea ror'd. Men and vvomen, such as vve are, did as vvee doe: And vvee vvere nothing. O vvonderfull! A little vvhile before yester∣day, the best of us all, and the most know∣ing, knew not, that there vvas a vvorld; that there were Angels; that there is a God; that such as wee, were afterwards to be: because we had no knowledge; no being, the foundation, and ground of knowledge.

MEDITATION. II.

O Pretious peeces that we are! we were all, as it were, borne of the Night, and call'd from a dark Nothing. And yet truly, the most unworthy, and most contemptible matter that is, yea, the Devils, and Damned in Hell, the lowest in the present order of Spirits, are placed many steps of vvorth above nothing, as being Gods creatures, and bearing his colissons; though branded with the foulest marks of dishonour. For, God

is honoured, even by the Being, Punish∣ments, and Dishonour of the damned; in which, the divine Justice triumpheth. But from Nothing, no honour can rise to him, onely that hee made something of nothing. Nothing is so base, that for it's meere base∣nesse, we cannot conceive it: nor speake of it, but in disgrace, by denying it to be any thing: which neither sense, nor understanding can apprehend. It hath no figure, shape, or colour: and is no where, because it is no∣thing. It cannot be painted; and though the Devill is painted under the forme of ano∣ther thing, yet that cannot: (that? what? nothing:) because it is the meere negation of a thing. O cursed negation! God never made thee. For, had God made thee, thou hadst beene something. And hadst thou been any thing, there had beene as many things for ever with God, as things had been pos∣sible by the power of God. It cannot be de∣scribed, but by saying, it is not: and of no∣thing, we cannot say, it is, but by adding, no∣thing. Of which now thinking, or speak∣ing, or writing; I think, or speak, or write of nothing. And so, we being, and yet truly, not truly being, but being nothing, God gave us the noble being we have; and made us Kings, and Queens of all corporal things, when hee might have made us with his left

hand, Toads, Vipers, or Snakes: Spiders, to be alwayes watching in catching Flyes, and to weave out our bowells, to fill our bellies: Snails, to passe over all our time in creeping, and in our passage from place to place, to linger in the way, and wait for our destruction: wormes, to be trod to peeces without any pitty, or thought of what is done, or that such a step was the death of a worme: Flyes, to play in the light, and presently perish, by day in a Cobweb, by night in a candle: leafes of sower grasse, or fading flowers: unworthy peeces of wood, to be carved into any, yea, the vilest shape, or perverted to the basest use. Wee might have bin Idols, or Images, set up in dishonor of God, which every one that loves him, would not have been for all the world: or, some other inferiour thing, provided for the use of man. I wil remember the young-man, that weeping at the sight of a Toad, and be∣ing asked by certaine Bishops, as they passed in the way where he was, the cause of his griefe; answered, and softned every word with a teare, that he wept, because he had risen to such a bulk of body, and heigth of yeares, and never yet given thanks to God, for not creating him so foule an object of contempt, as the Toad: when hee was to God his Maker, as willing and easie clay in

the hands of the Potter. O Lord, I thank thee for him, and for my selfe, and for us all.

MEDITATION. III.

ANd the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrhils the breath of life, and man became a living soule. For, when the Angels, enriched with such absolute gifts, and dowries of na∣ture, by occasion of their shining, and beau∣tifull nature, had lost, and lost beyond reco∣very, the fairest beauty under Heaven, which is Grace; God turning his Omnipotencie to the Creation of man, made, as if he feared the like inconvenience, all that is visible in Him, of Earth: of base, and foule earth. Which, lest it should continually provoke a loathing, he hath changed into a more fine substance, & covered all over, with a fair, and fashionable skinne: but with a condition of returning at a word, and halfe a call from Heaven, unto Earth, and into Earth. That, although he might afterwards, be lifted up in the scale of his soule, hee might be de∣pressed againe presently on the other side, by the waight, and heavinesse of his body; and so, might lay the deep, and low foundation of humility, requisite to the high, and stately

building of vertue. If now, God should turn a man, busie in the commission of some haynous crime, into his first earth: that pre∣sently in steed of the man, should appeare to us, an Image of clay like the man, and with the mans cloathes on, standing in the po∣sture, in which the man stood, when he was wholly tooke up in committing that high sinne against God; Should we not all, abo∣minate so vile a man of clay, lifting him∣selfe against the great God of Heaven and Earth? And God breathed upon his face, ra∣ther then upon any other part of his body, because all the senses of man doe flourish in his face; and because agreeably to his own ordinance, in the face the operations of the soule should be most apparent, as the signes of feare, griefe, joy, and the like, wherefore, one calls the eyes, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, the most exact, and accurate images of the minde. But stay. I grant, that God in the beginning, first rais'd all things by a strange lift, out of nothing. And I confesse it is true; not that which Pythagoras his Schollers had so often in their mouthes, Ipse dixit, and no farther; but, ipse dixit, & facta sunt, as the Prophet David singeth: God spake the word, and all this gallant world rose pre∣sently out of nothing: as if sencelesse no∣thing had heard his voyce, and obeyed him.

And I am sufficiently convinced, that God brought our first Father from cōmon earth, that we cannot touch without defiling our fingers, to earth of a finer making, call'd flesh. But how are we made by him? wee come a naturall way into the world. And it is not seene, that God hath any extraor∣dinary hand in the work. Truly, neither are the influences of the Sunne, and Starres ap∣parent to us in our composition; yet are they necessary to it. Sol & homo generant hominem, sayes Aristotle: The Sunne and a man betwixt them, beget a child. The rea∣sonable soule is created by God in the body, at the time when the little body now sha∣pen, is in a fit temper to entertaine it. For, the soule is so noble, and excellent both in her substance and operations, that shee can∣not proceed originally from any inferiour cause, nor be but by creation. And if God should stay his hand, when the body is fitly dressed, and disposed for the soule, the child would be borne but the meanest part of a man. And doubtlesse, God useth Parents like inferiour officers, even in the framing of the Body. For, if the Parents were the true Authors, and master builders of the bo∣dy, they should be endued naturally with a full and perfect knowledge of that, which they make. They should fully, and perfectly

know, how all things are ordered, and fit∣ted in the building. They should know in particular, how many strings, veins, sinewes, bones, are dispensed through all the body: in what secret Cabinet, the braine is locked up; in what posture, the heart lyeth; and what due motion it keepes; what kinde of Cookery, the stomack uses; which way, the rivers of the bloud turne, and at what tur∣ning they meet; what it is, that gives to the eyes, the principality of seeing; to the eares, of hearing; to the nose, of smelling; to the mouth, of censuring all that passes, by the taste; and to the skin and flesh, the office of touching. Nor is this all; But also, when the body is taken up, and borded by a sick∣nesse: or, when a member withers, or is cut off: truly, if the Parents were the only Au∣thors of the body; they might, even by the same Art, by which, they first framed it, re∣store it againe to it selfe. As the maker of a clock, or builder of a house, if any parts be out of order, can bring them home to their fit place, and gather all againe to uniformity. So that every man naturally should be so farre skill'd in Physick, and Surgerie, and have such an advantage of power, that his Art should never faile him, even in the ex∣traordinary practice of either. To this may be added, that the joyning together of the

soule and body, which in a manner, is the conjunction of Heaven and Earth, of an An∣gell and a beast, could not be compassed by any, but a workman of an infinite power. For, by what limited art, can a spirit be linked to flesh, with so close a tye, as to fill up one substance, one person? They are too much different things: the one is 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, as S. Gregory Nazianzen speaks, a ray of the Divinity: the other, a vile thing, extracted from a dunghill. Nor is there any shew of semblance, or proportion betwixt them. And therfore, to make these two ends meet, is a work, which requires the hand, and the onely hand of the Master Workman. The Divines give three speciall reasons, why God joyned a body to a soule. First, moved by his infinite goodnesse; because he desired to admit a body, as well as a spirit, to the participation of himselfe: and all creatures being spirituall, or corporall, a body could never have beene partaker of blessednesse, had it not beene joyned to a spirit. Secondly, for the more generall exercise of vertue in the service of God: for, a soule could not have acted many vertues, without the aide of a body, as, the vertues of temperance, and chastity. For, the Devils are not de∣lighted with the sinnes contrary to these vertues, but for our guilt. Thirdly, the per∣fection

of the universe. For, as there are creatures, only spirits, as Angels: and crea∣tures onely bodily, as beasts and trees: so it was a great perfection, that there should also be creatures, both spirits and bodies. By which, it is evident, that God placed man in a middle condition betwixt Angels and beasts, to the end, he might rise, even in this life, with Elias, to the sublime, and superi∣our state of Angels: not descend with Na∣buchodonosor, to that inferiour, and low rank of beasts. And by the more frequent operations of the spirit, in high things; we become more spirituall, and indeed, Ange∣licall: By the more frequent exercise of the body, and the bodily powers, in the acts of sensuality; we become more bodily, and bestiall.

MEDITATION. 4.

ANd God gave us a being, so perfect in all points, and lineaments, that lest we should fondly spend our whole lifes in admiration of our selves, and at the looking-glasse; hee wrought his owne image in us, that guided byit, as by a finger pointing up∣wards, wee might not rest in the work, but look up presently to the workman. The

image consisteth in this. God is one: the soule is one. God is one in Essence, and three in persons, the Father, the Sonne, and the holy Ghost: The soule is one in Es∣sence, and three in faculties, the under∣standing, the will, the memory. The Fa∣ther is the first person, and begets the Son; the understanding is the first faculty, and be∣gets the will, I meane the acts of willing, by the representation of something which it sheweth amiable. The Holy Ghost is the third person, and proceeds from the Father, and the Son: the memory is the third fa∣culty, and is put into action, and being, in a manner, joyntly by the understanding, and will. But, here is a strange businesse: The Sonne, the second person, came downe in∣to the world, and yet stay'd in Heaven: The will, the second faculty, and she onely, goes as it were out of the soule, into out∣ward action, that we may see the soule of a man in the execution of his will; and yet, remaines in the soule. God is a spirit, the soule is a spirit. God is all in all the world, and all in every part of the world: The soule is all in all the body, and all in every part of the body. Phidias, a famous Graver, desiring to leave in Athens, a perpetuall me∣morie of himselfe, and an everlasting mo∣nument of his Art, made a curious image

of Minerva, the matter being pretious Jvo∣rie; and in her buckler, upon which in a faire diversitie, hee cut the battails of the Amazons and Giants, hee couched his owne picture, with such a rare singularity of Art, that it could not any way be defaced, with∣out an utter dissolutiō of the Bucklar. This did God, before Phidias was ever heard of, or his fore-fathers through many genera∣tions, in the soule of man: the image of God, though not his likenesse, remaining in the soule, as long as the soule remaineth, even in the damned: To this image God hath annexed a desire of him: which in the world, lifts up our hearts to God: in Hell, begets and maintaines the most grievous paine of losse. And to shew, that this de∣sire of God, is the greatest, and best of all de∣sires; nothing, which any other desire longs after, will satisfie the gaping heart; but onely, the object of this great desire. Ad imaginem Dei facta anima rationalis, saith S. Bernard, caeteris omnibus occupari potest, repleri non potest: capax enim Dei, quicquid minus Deo est, non replebit: The reasonable soule, being made after the image of God, may be held back, and stay'd a little dallying with other things, but it can never be fully pleas'd, and fill'd with them: for, the thing that is capable of God, cannot be filled with

any thing, that is lesse then God. The heart is carved into the forme of a Triangle; and a Triangle, having three angles or corners, cannot be filled with a round thing, as the world is. For, put the world, being sphae∣ricall, or circular, into the triangle of the heart; and still, the three angles will be empty, and wait for a thing, which is most perfectly, one and three. And that wee might know, with what fervour of charity, and heat of zeale, God endeavoureth, that we should be like to him, he became like to us. For, although God cannot properly be said like to us as God, as a man is not said like to his picture, but the picture to him: yet, as man, he may. And therefore, as hee formed us with conformity to his image in the Creation; so, hee formed himselfe ac∣cording to our image, and likenesse in his Incarnation. So much he seeketh to perfect likenesse betwixt us in all parts; that there may be the more firme ground for love to build upon: when commonly, similitude al∣lureth to love, and likenesse is a speciall cause of liking. It is the phrase of S. Paul, who saith of Christ, that he was made in the likenesse of man.

MEDITATION. V.

ANd woman being made, not as man, of earth, but of man, and made in Para∣dise; was not taken out of the head, that she might stand over her husband; nor out of the feet, that she might be kickt, and trod upon; nor out of any fore-part, that shee might be encouraged, to go before her hus∣band; nor yet, out of a hinder part, lest her place should be thought amongst the ser∣vants, farre behind her husband: but out of the side, that shee might remaine in some kinde of equality with him. And from his heart side, and a place very neere the heart; that his love towards her, might be hearty. And from under his left arme, that he might hold her with his left arme close to his heart; and fight for her with his best arme, as he would fight to defend his heart. It is one of the great blessings, which the Pro∣phet pronounceth to him, that feareth the Lord. Thy wife shall be as a fruitfull vine by the sides of thine house. The vine branch may be gently bended any way; and being cut, it often bleeds to death. And the wife is a vine by the sides of the house: her place is not on the floore of the house, nor on the

roofe; shee must never be on the top of the house. But there is a difference: the wo∣man must be a Vine, by the insides of the House. But now begins a Tragedy. It is not without a secret, that the Devill in his first exploit, borrowed the shape of a serpent; of which Moyses, Now the serpent was more subtill then any beast of the field. The know∣ledge of the Angels, is more cleare, compa∣red with the knowledge of the Devils; and moreover, is joyned with Charity: but the knowledge of the Devils, is not joyned with Charity, Justice, or other vertues; and therefore, degenerateth into craft; ac∣cording to that of Plato, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Knowledge, not linked with justice, and other vertues, is not wisedome, but craft. And the serpent is crafty: For, if he can passe his head, his long traine being lesse and lesse, will easily follow: Hee will winde, and turne any way: He flatters out∣wardly, with gawdy scales; but inwardly, he is poyson: Hee watches for you in the greene grasse, even amongst the flowers. Wee see, — that God suffers not the Devill to take a shape, but such a one as will deci∣pher his practices. And the serpent which deceived Eve, was crafty in a high degree of craft: for, many write, that his making

was upright; and that hee was beautified with a head and face, somewhat like hers. And he, that had beene throwne from hea∣ven, because hee desired to be like God; comes now with a trick to the weaker of the two; and his first temptation, is a mo∣tion to the desire of being like God: Yee shall be as Gods. Hee knew by experience, that the desire of being like God, was like enough to lay them low enough under him. And because they would be like God, Christ would be a man. And he comes with a faire apple; a pretty thing for the curiosity of a woman, to look upon, and desire to touch, and play with. The holy Scripture gives three reasons, which moved her to eat of it: three reasons, besides the Devil's tempta∣tion; every one being gathered from some conceived excellencie in the fruit. And when the woman saw, that the tree was good for food: and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, alas foo∣lish woman! shee tooke of the fruit thereof, and did eat. Shee lov'd her belly too well: Shee delighted in glittering shewes; and she would be wise above her condition. And these are three great faults amongst Eves daughters. But as the profession of wise∣dome, so the desire of wisedome, which involveth knowledge of things above our

degree, and out of our end; is an adjunct of folly. S. Paul saith of the old Philosophers, Professing themselves to be wise, they became fooles. And she, desiring to be wise, became a very foole. And now, Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the Garden. They add folly to folly; they hide themselves from the presence of him, that is omnipresent. And they are fooles indeed, to think, the trees of the garden will be more true to them, then to God: or, that the Trees will hide an injury, done to one of the best trees in the garden. And they doe not hide them∣selves onely, but also, their fault; and tosse it from one to another. The man cries out: The woman whom thou gavest to be with mee, shee gave me of the tree, and I did eat. The woman cries out lowder then he: The ser∣pent beguiled mee, and I did eat. They hid their sinnes, and incurred a curse: Wee, to avoid a curse, must confesse our sinnes, and lay them open. But, the woman makes her excuse with lesse fault, because shee was the weaker party, and taught by the example of her husband. And he throwes the fault up∣on his wife; shee not back upon him, but upon the Devill. And the serpent, the De∣vils instrument in his appearance, was laid upon his belly for it: and bound to hard

fare to eat dust, all the dayes of his life. And God goes in his curses, as they proceeded in their sinnes: he first curses the serpent, then the woman, and afterwards, the man, who sinned after them all. But had he stood, say the Interpreters, we never had fallen. And the Schoole-men give a sufficient reason; for, he was the root both of Eve and us. And he cannot be freed from the greatest fault. For, it was more in him, to be deluded by his wife; then, in her, to be deceived by the Devill.

MEDITATION. VI.

GOd being now constrained to banish Adam and his wife out of Paradise: stay'd them notwithstanding, within the sight of it. They were not banished into a farre Country: that they might know, they should be shortly restor'd: and that, having Paradise alwayes before their eyes, they might loath sin, the deadly cause of their ex∣pulsion. God created all this faire globe of the world, for man; and therefore, did not fashion him before the sixth day, till the house was furnished, and made in all points, fit for his entertainment. All the strange va∣riety of creatures, abiding either in Aire,

Earth, or Sea, were made such and such, to help him forward in such and such manner, to his supernaturall end: and therefore, God gave to no creature, an upright stature, and a tongue to speake, and praise him, but to man: because all the benefits, hee cast upon other things, were not given to them for themselves, but in order to man; being ra∣ther his, then their benefits. And both An∣gels, and man, having fallen from God, hee turnes away from the Angels, and turnes with a sweet face, and with loving embra∣ces unto man. For, the Angels being en∣dowed with most eminent abilities of na∣ture, and that, highly perfected by Grace; and having no clog of body to waigh down the spirit, sinn'd of meere malice, without a Tempter, and without an example; and therefore, fell beneath the benefit of a Re∣deemer. One reason of this love of God to man is prettily expressed, by way of Histo∣ry: A man, and a woman were found guilty of theft; whereof the woman, was bigg with childe. The man having nothing to say for himselfe, is condemned, and sent away to the place of execution. The wo∣man cries, and pleads, shee is with childe; and though condemn'd, is onely sent to prison; where shee gives such efficacious signes of her sorrow, and Repentance; that

after a while, she & the fruit of her womb, are set at liberty. Now the history turnes to a similitude; and the fable becomes true hi∣storie. The Angels had nothing to say, and their generations were compleat, one An∣gell doth not beget another, and were im∣mediatly sent to the place of execution. But Adam and Eve were both with child, their number was not up; they radically cōtained in them, thousands of thousands that should come after them; and they were spar'd for their childrens sakes, till they were spar'd for their own sakes, & yet all were spar'd for Christ his sake, and wholly for his sake. And God hath so play'd the good Alchy∣mist, with the sinne of our first Parents, ex∣tracting many goods out of one evill; that some curiously question, whether wee may, or may not be sorry, that Adam sinn'd. For, if wee are sorry, that hee sinn'd; wee are sorry, that God's deare children, as they still encrease their yeares, still encrease their blessednesse. For, where good and evill meet in combat, as now, after the dayes of In∣nocence, there is opposition, and resistance in the performance of good: where is re∣sistance, there also is difficulty: and where wee discover a difference, and diversity, as well in the measure, as in the manner of re∣sistance, there occurre also, degrees of diffi∣culties:

and, the greater the difficulty, the more pretious the reward. If wee are not sorry that he sinn'd, wee are not sorry, that God was abus'd, and his very first command broken. If we are sorry that he sinn'd; wee are sorry, that many faire vertues have en∣tred upon our knowledge, and practice, which otherwise, should never, either have beene practised, or knowne: no patience of the best proofe, but occasioned by an in∣jury; no injury, guiltlesse of sinne: the clean∣nest exercise of our Charity towards our neighbour, supposes in our neighbour, the want of a thing requisite; and all want of that generation, is the poore childe of sinne: the most high, and most elevated praxis, or exercise of our charity towards God, then flames out, when we seale our beliefe with our blood, in martyrdome; no martyrdom, but usherd with persecution; no persecuti∣on free from sinne. If we are not sorry that he sinn'd; we are not sorry, that millions of millions of soules, shall now be lost eter∣nally, lost, never to be found again; which, if Adam had stood upright, had certainely shone with God in Heaven, as long as hee. And, if we are sorry that he sinn'd; wee are sorry, that Christ joyn'd our flesh and soule to his Divinity; expressed his true love to us by dying for us; was seene by us here in

the world, and will feast even the corporall eye in Heaven, with the most delightfull sight of his blessed body, for ever. And, how∣soever some think otherwise, if Adam had not sinned, Christ had not tooke our nature; for, he was not so much delighted with hu∣mane nature, as hee was desirous to die for mankinde. And if wee are not sorry, that he sinn'd; wee are not sorry, that one sinne was the cause of all sinnes; and all sinnes, the cause of all punishments; and that, one pu∣nishment is behind, and waits for us in ano∣ther world; with which, all other punish∣ments, put together, and made one punish∣ment, are in no kinde comparable: and that I, and my neighbours, and he that is abroad, and perhaps now, little thinks of such a bu∣sinesse; are all ignorant, how we shall dye, now we are borne; how wee shall end our lifes, now wee are alive; now wee are put on, how we shall get off: and when the Ax is laid to the root, which way the Tree shall fall: and what shall become of us, everlastingly. Be wee sorry, or not sorry, Adam sinned. It being done, God's will be done. And yet, because it was but, his per∣missive will, his will of sufferance: and hee suffers many things against his will; not of necessity, but because he will; I will be sor∣ry that Adam sinn'd, that is, offended God.

God made the soule of man, as upright as his body, and clothed it with the white garment of originall Justice. God being the fountaine of all power, grace, and suffi∣ciencie, could have hindred the fall; but be∣cause he was not his neighbour, nor obliged by any law, (for, who should give a law to the first Law-giver?) and to demonstrate the full extent of his dominion over his crea∣tures, he would not: and having left man in the hand of his owne counsell, and set with∣in the reach of his hand, fire and water; and man having wilfully plaid foule, God stri∣ved to make the best of an ill game: and therefore, hee drew from the fall of Adam, besides the former benefits, a more ample demonstration of his power, wisedome, ju∣stice, providence, and chiefly, of his charity; the triall of reason, the triumphs of vertue in all kindes; and the greater splendour of his Church. It is as plaine, as if it were wrot by the finger of God, with the Sun∣beames, which S^t. Austin saith, speaking of God, Non sineret malum, nisi ex malo sciret dicere bonum: He would not suffer ill, if he did not well know, how to strain good out of ill, and sweetnesse out of sowernesse. O sweet God, I have committed a great deale of sower evill; come in thy goodnesse, and draw good and sweetnesse out of it; the

good of Glory to thee; and the sweetnesse of peace to mee, both here and hereafter. Thou hast held my hand in all my actions, as well evill as good; as a Master, the hand of his Scholler, whom he teacheth to write; and in evill actions, I have pulled thy hand, thy power, after mine, to evill; which was onely evill to me, because I onely intended it: in good actions, thou didst alwayes pull, hold, and over-rule my hand; and truly speaking, it was thy good; for I of my selfe cannot write one faire letter. And I know, thou hast not suffered me to run so farre into evill, but thou canst turne all to good. An infinite wisedome, joyn'd with an infinite goodnesse, can joyne good in company with evill, be it as evill as it can be.

MEDITATION VII.

ANd if now, I clip away an odd end of ensuing time; a little remnant of black and white, of nights and dayes; a small, and contemptible number of evenings, and mor∣nings; wee strong people, that now can move, and set to work, our armes, and leggs, and bodies at our pleasure; wee that look so high, and big withall; shall not be, what now we are. For now, we live, and plea∣sing thoughts passe through our heads. We

runne, we ride, we stay, we sit downe; we eat, and drink, and laugh; We rise up, and laugh againe; and so, dance; then rest a while, and drink, and talk, and laugh aloud; then mingle words of complement, and acti∣ons of curtesie, to shew part of our breed∣ing; then muse, and think of gathering wealth, and what merry dayes we shall en∣joy. But the time will suddenly be here, (and it stands now at the dore, and is com∣ming in) when every one of us, from the King (God blesse his Majesty) to the Beg∣gar (God sweeten his Misery) shall fall, and break in two peeces, a soule, and a body. And the soule be given up into the hands of new Companions, that we never saw; and be carried either upward, or downward; in a mourning weed, or in a robe of joy; to an everlasting day, or a perpetuall night: which we know, there are; but wee never saw to be, nor heard described by any, that saw them. And when the body shall bee left behind; being now, no more a living body, no more the busie body it was, but a dumb, deafe, blind, blockish, unsensible car∣casse; and now, after all the great doings, not able to stirre in the least part; or to an∣swer to very meane, and easie questions; as, how doe you? are you hungry? is it day or night? and be cast out for carrion, (it be∣gins

to stink, away with it) for most loath∣some carrion, either to the wormes, or to the birds, or to the fishes, or to the beasts. And when the holy Prophecie of Esay will be fulfilled: The mirth of tabrets ceaseth, the noise of them that rejoyce endeth, the joy of the harpe ceaseth. They shall not drink wine with a song. Nor yet, without a song: And there shall be no joy, but the joy of Heaven; no mirth, or noise of them that rejoyce; no singing, but in Heaven. O wretched Caine, that built the first Citie upon earth, because he was banished from Heaven! Ille primus in terra fundamentum posuit, saith S^t. Gregory, qui à soliditate coelestis patriae alienus fuit; He first layd a foundation upon earth, who had no foundation in Heaven.

MEDITATION. VII.

THere are, I am certaine there are, many poore forlorne soules now in Hell, and burning in the bottome of it; groveling be∣neath all the crowd: and some now, at this instant dying, and sending out the last groane, brought mournfully from the lowest depth of their entralls; that would give if they had it, all the treasure of a thousand worlds, for one houre of life and health, to

run through all the acts of vertue in. But they cannot come back: nor shall vvee when we are gon; and going vve are eve∣ry day, whither God knowes, but certain∣ly, to some new, and strange Countrey, by Death. The den of a Dragon is a darke place, and full of bones. There is a vast, and hideous den; and the bloody monster, that dwelleth in it, is called Death. In the way to which, all the prints of the foot∣stepps, looke towards the Den; not one backward: vestigia nullae retrorsum: no comming, no sending back, to enforme our friends, vvhat kind of entertainment vve have had, since we left them: no sending a description of the place we are in; or a re∣lation of the severall passages, betwixt us, & our companions. There is no distinction of persons. The great Emperor must come downe, must, he cannot hinder it with the power of all the World. The great Empe∣ror must come downe from his imperiall Throne, into his Majesties grave: and bee covered with earth; like that, vvee now tread upon. And his powerfull Subjects, the peers of his land, must stand quietly by, and see him buried. We never yet, heard of a souldier, so valiant, and fortunate, in his adventures, that he conquer'd Death. If Alexander, after all his victories, could

have enjoyed the privilege of not being at last led a way Captive by Death, he would have given all his winnings, the vvhole World for his ransome. But it might not be, it could not bee. Great Alexander is dead; and all his greatnesse buried vvith him. And great Alexander, for whom, one World was too little, because hee was so great; hath now left to be great; and is be∣come little himselfe, a little handfull of dust, or clay, or dirt; and is contented with a little, a little room under ground, or in a worse place. O the sweet equality, which God as a Creator, and a Provider, observed in the disposition of humane affairs! The Prince, and common people, doe eate, and drink, and sleepe, and see, and heare, and smell, and taste, and touch, and speake, and laugh, and cry, and stand, and go, af∣ter the same manner. One is made in all parts, like the other: And all creatures but man, give as little respect, and yeeld as lit∣tle obedience to the Prince, as to the pea∣sant. The Sun doth shine, the fire burn, the ri∣vers do run equally for al. And both the king & subject, are sick, & die the same way, their heads, and their hearts ake alike; And they both dy by giving up the Ghost: And they both looke pale, and black, and groane be∣fore they give it. And when they are both

dead, and buried, howsoever when they li∣ved, their conditions vvere very much dif∣ferent, and they scarce ever saw one ano∣ther, their bones and ashes are sociable, they will mingle together. And then, the cleerest eie cannot discerne or distinguish the one from the other: no man can truly say, this dust is the softer, the finer mold; looke you, this is royall dust.

MEDITATION. IX.

THe Prophet Jeremy speakes out: O Earth, Earth, Earth, heare the word of the Lord. Stay, great Prophet; why thrice Earth? Earth indeed, we are: but, when you have once call'd us so, it is the most: yes truly, and all you can say. You seeme to multiply tearmes, and the same tearmes, without necessity. No; I doe not what I seeme to doe: Earth, thou that wast in the beginning, framed of Earth, Earth, thou that art now compacted of Earth, howsoever cast in a new mold: Earth, thou that must shortly resolve, and drop again into Earth: Heare the word of the Lord. The second, and middle conditi∣on of these, placed betwixt, made of Earth, and to be turned againe into Earth, is but

a meane state, to heape up wealth, and build faire houses in. S. Iohn Baptist was cal'd a voice; not that he was like the Nigh∣tingale, to which one sayes, Vox es praete∣reà nihil, thou art a voice, and nothing but a voice. He was cald a voice, as the fore-run∣ner of Christ; because in speaking, the voice is always heard, before the word: And so it was, when God spake to the world the best words, & by the best word. The voice said, Cry. And he said, what shall I cry? All flesh is grasse, and all the goodlinesse thereof, is as the flowre of the field. This voice was not a voice onely; for it spake, and said, Cry. An unusuall way of proceeding. Sure vvee shall heare of some great, and weighty matter. Let mee understand holy Scripture with the same spirit, with which it was written. Hee doth not say, as the flowre of the garden. For (vve know) the Garden is commonly hedg'd in, and strongly defen∣ded from the incursion of beasts, well fur∣nished with shades, and shelters: But as the flowre of the field, the wide and open field; where the flowre is soon parched, and dry∣ed to a powder, by heat; soone pinched, and left for dead, by the cold: quickly eaten by beasts, which know it not to bee a flower; quickly cropped by a silly girl, to wither in her bosome: or, if it scape all this,

at least, bruised and trod upon by passen∣gers, or (which is worse) vvith the rough feete of cattell. And if Heaven and earth should be still, and not afford a danger; one betwixt both, the middle region of the Aire, would knock it downe with haile∣stones. And as the goodlinesse of flesh, is like the flowre of the field; so flesh it self is as grasse; vvhich though it bee somewhat more durable then the flower; hath but a very short time to bee greene, or to grow. Amicitia, saith Aristotle, quae super inhonesto fundatur, durabilis non est, The friend∣ship which is grounded upon dishonesty, cannot endure. And the soule and body a∣greeing in sinne, cannot long agree; their peace will be quickly broken by sicknesse, and then per-haps they part.

MEDITATION X

ANd therefore, the memory of death, shall stand like a Seale of virgin Wax upon my heart, to keepe the World from looking into the secret. Methinks, I see now, here. before mee; a man lying very sick upon his Death-bead. How pale he is! He had a fresh and youthfull colour, the o∣ther day, heu quantum mutatus ab illo!

alas, how much hee is changed from the gallant man he was! How his breath la∣bours! how every joynt shakes for excesse of pain! How every veine trembles! His skin is drawne strait to the bone through all his body. His eyes fix constantly upon one thing, as if there hee saw the dreadfull sentence of his eternity. Two black circles lay seige to his eyes on every side; and it seemeth, that for feare, they are sunke in∣wards, as if they would turn presently, and looke upon the deformity of the soule. Hearke; with what a lamentable accent he grones; I remember, I have heard some, that soon after came to this point, sing, and laugh heartily. Poore man, how little all his pleasures have profited him! Such a rich purchase, the favour of such a noble man, such and such a merry meeting, what doe they help in this agonie? his freinds are present: yet of themselves, they are mi∣serable comforters: they may looke sor∣rowfully, speake mornefully, cast them∣selves upon their knees, and pray for him; but they cannot doe the deed, they cannot helpe him: humane power stands amaz'd, and can do nothing. You, do you heare? what thinke you now of going abroad, and being merry; your old companions are at the doore: Looke to your goods, and your

selves, your house is on fire: not a word. And the little life, which as yet, keeps weak possession, is so dull'd, and over clouded with the pangs of Death, that hee cannot raise from the fog of his body, one clean thought towards God, or Heaven. Hee is ready now to leave every thing, but his sinnes, lands, house, friends, gay clothes, the gold in the box, and jewels in the Cabinet, and all. See, see; he is going, hee stands upon the threshold, Death lurkes in yonder corner, and aimes at the heart; and though it move so fast, Death will not misse his marke. Hee has beene an Archer ever since the world began. There flew the arrow. Here is a change indeed. His Soul is gon: but it would not be seene; Not only because it could not, but also because it was so black. Now dismisse the Physiti∣an; and pray him to goe, and invent a pre∣servative against the poyson of Death. Close up the dead mans eyes; hee will see no more. Shut his mouth; hee has left ga∣ping for aire: all is past, hee will never give an other crosse word. Now cast the beggerly wretch an old sheete; and throw him out to the wormes; or after three days hee will poyson us; and then, we shall bee like him. It is a true speech of saint Hierom, with which, hee puts the latter stamp upon

the soft heart of Paulinus, to whom hee writes, Facile contemnit omnia qui se semper cogitat esse moriturum; Hee doth easily con∣temne, and with a violent hand throw un∣der him all things, who thinkes, he stands alwayes with one foote, in his grave. O my soule, heare me: let me talke to thee in a familiar way. The corporall eye, this eye of man, seeth nothing but figure or fashion, and colour; no man ever saw a man, onely the figure or fashion, and colour of a man; and these are outward, and superficiall things, which onely flatter the eye. And S. Paul saith worthily: The fashion of this World passeth away. The man dyeth, the lid is drawn over the eye, & the fashion or figure disappeareth; is not seene. The Hous-keeper hath changed his lodging; & the windows are shut. Call him at the doores of his eares, tell him that his wife and children are in danger of their lives, and that they call to him for help the windows remain shut stil. Here is the mind, which hath wisdom. There is nothing in this great World, for a mortall man to love, or settle upon: Hee that will love, ought to love wisely; he that will love wisely, ought to love good. Good is not good if it be not permanent: & this World passeth away. Nihil tam utile est quod in trā∣situ prosit, saith Seneca; nothing is so com∣pleately profitable, as to profit when it on∣ly

passeth. And verily, this world hath bin alwayes a Passenger: for, it hath passed from age to age, through so many hundred gene∣rations, by them, and from them, to us. Adam liv'd a while, to eat an Apple, and to teach his posterity to sinne, and to dye: and the world passed by him. Caine liv'd a while, to kill his honest brother Abel, and to bury him in the sands, as if God could not have found him, or the winde have disco∣vered what was done, and afterwards, to be haunted with frightfull apparitions; and to be the first vagabond; and the world passed by him. Noah liv'd a while, to see a great floud, and the whole world sinke under water; to see the weary birds drop amongst the waves, and men stifled on the tops of Trees and Mountaines; and the world passed by him. David liv'd a while, to be caught with a vaine representation, and to commit adultery; to command mur∣ther, and afterwards, to lament, and call him∣selfe sinner; and when he had done so, the world shuff'd him off, and passed by him. Salomon liv'd a while, to sit like a man, up∣on his royall throne, as it were guarded with Lyons; and to love counterfeit pi∣ctures in the faces of strange women: and while he was looking Babies in their eyes, the world stole away, and passed by King

Salomon, and all his glory. Iudas liv'd a∣while, to handle a purse; and, as an old Au∣thor writes, to kill his Father, to marry his Mother, to betray his Master, and to hang himselfe; and the world turn'd round as wel as he; and passed by the Traytor. The Jews liv'd a-while, to crucifie him, who had cho∣sen them for his onely people out of all the world; and quickly after the world weary of them, passed by them, and their Com∣mon-wealth. The old Romanes liv'd a∣while, to worship wood and stones; to talk a little of Iupiter, Apollo, Venus, Mer∣cury; and to gaze upon a great statue of Hercules, and cry, hee was a mighty man: and while they stood gazing, and looking another way, the world passed by them, and their great Empire. The Papists live a∣while, to keepe time with dropping Beads, or rather, to lose it; to cloath images, and keepe them warme; and to tell most won∣derfull stories of Miracles, which God ne∣ver thought of, but as he fore-saw, and found them in their fancies; and in the midst of a story, before it is made a compleat lye, the world passes by them, and turnes them into a story. The Jesuits live a-while, to be call'd Religious men, and holy Fathers; to frame a face; to be very good and godly in the out-side, to vex, and disquiet Princes; to

slander all those, whom they cannot, or gaine, or recover to their faction: and the world at length, finding them to be dissem∣blers, dissembles with them also, and look∣ing friendly upon them, passes by them. The painted wall tumbles; and then, Woe to you Hypocrites. Wee live a-while, a little little while, to put our cloathes on and off, to shew our selves abroad; to be hurried up and downe in Coaches, and to be proud that wee passe with such a noise; to heare newes, and to talk vainly; to heap sin upon sinne; and the world weary of the burthen, passeth by us: and presently, God heapeth punishment upon punishment. Foolish men and women, how we sweat, and spend our selves! we see the spade working, and deep graves digg'd every day; and yet live, as if we did not beleeve we should dye. In the streets, one goes this way, another in hast, that way; a third crosses the way, turnes againe, then looks behind him, and would faine goe two wayes at once. It is wonder∣full. How stirring, and busie wee are about the present things of this world, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉; so called by the Apostle, because nothing is ours, but what is present. He is a fond, and miserable man, that pleaseth himselfe in the thought of any thing, but God and Hea∣ven. Fix here, my soule, and thou shalt find

more true, and solid pleasure, in one medi∣tation of Heaven, though it is absent, then in all earthly things, although present, and before thee.

MEDITATION XI.

THe soule being created for God, and bearing his image, or stamp; God is the most proper end of the soule: as the earth (if it be lawfull to compare great things with little) is the most proper place of a stone. And therefore, a stone being tos∣sed from the earth, as soone as it can shake off vim impressam, the impression of the force which mov'd it; that being out of breath, and spent: if there be no stop, it presently returnes with all possible haste (as it were glad being let goe, and set at liberty) to the earth, which ownes it. And so, the just soul to God. The soule in statu conjunctionis, in the state of her conjunction with the body, being wedded to it, as to a fellow-helper; sees by the eyes, heares by the eares, and in a manner, feeles by the body. Now, the soule having beene created in the body; and never yet us'd, but to this kinde of know∣ing by the senses; is so busied, so kept in

continuall work, and so amused with the representations of the senses, that shee is little urgent in the desire of her end; as be∣ing tooke up with great diversity of other imployment; which being alwayes new, and therefore strange, begets a zealous at∣tention in the soule; and so, turnes her from God. It is true: if she listen to the whisper of an inspiration, or, heare a discourse of heavenly things; she likes it well, and feels a pleasant tickling of sweetnesse, because it is agreeable with her end: and then per∣haps, the desire of her end awakes, & sits up: but other occurrences, calling earnestly for admittance; the soule gives way; and the desire of the last end, lyes fairely down, and sleeps again. But the soul, being now in statu seperationis, in her state of separation from the body, they having been newly divorced: and missing her body, and her accustomed way of knowing by the senses: missing the former use of the world, and the things she saw, and heard in the body; thinks present∣ly, where am I? I am another kind of crea∣ture. Then being freed from all hinderance, she begins to stirre towards her end. For now, she is like a stone, as farre in the ayre, as it can goe; vvhere it cannot rest, but quit of the force, gives back: and furnished vvith Guides, shee flyes vvith all readinesse

to God, in his Kingdome, the place of in∣stallment, as to her last end. Here I have the reason, why the Divines say, that where∣as there are two much different paines in Hell, poena sensus, the paine of sense, caused by the fire of Hell; and poena damni, the pain of losse, by the losse of God: the paine of losse, is the greatest. For, the reprobate soul, being thrust out of the body, and having re∣ceived her doome in the very place of her expulsion; is struck presently with a strong apprehension of her end; and of the worth, and excellency of it; and of her miserable solitarinesse without it: from which, shee being turned; the wound bleeds, and shee suddenly cries out, wanting a Comforter, My end, where is my end? I misse some∣thing, the best thing, what? God. O, where is God? I misse my end. And then, shee catches at him; and misses: and missing cries out; and catches again: and still misses, crying, I want rest, in my end, in God. Where is my end, that is God; and God, that is my end? There is no rest for a soul out of the body, but in God: as there was no true rest, for a soule in the body, but in God. I have bin long at hard labour, & now in the end, I would rest, in my end. For, I cannot be at rest, without my end. O my end! while I continue without my end, my torment will

continue without end. O, what shall I do? Where shall I begin? How shall I end, without my end? And then, catching at her end, shee is caught her selfe away to hell fire, and carried farther from her end. Where she shall be alwayes catching, and alwayes missing: alwayes seeking, and ne∣ver finding: alwayes complaining either of her paine, or, of her losse, (but most, of her losse;) or, of her losse of all, but her paine, and her losse; which she would faine lose, but cannot: from which most wofull estate, God deliver me. But the just soule, present∣ly after the first apprehension of her end, shal be joyned unseperably to it: in which end, shall be the end of all earthly motion, and therefore, all rest. Blessed are the dead, saith S^t. Iohn, whom Dionysius salutes by the name of Divine, which dye in the Lord, from henceforth, yea, saith the spirit, that they may rest from their labours. But of the damned, hee sayes confidently in the same Chapter, they have no rest day nor night. Have I heard a malefactor, appointed by judgement to be starved, after the gnawing, and devouring of his owne armes, crying, bread, bread? If I suppose, he cryes rest, rest; it is the voyce of the damned person.

MEDITATION. XII.

VVE see many times, and most com∣monly, men and women, lying on their death-beds, some little while be∣fore their passage, or departure, in won∣drous traunces, took away from their senses. At which times, some look very cheere∣fully, smiling like Angels; and send from them, shoots of joy, and gladnesse. And some looke frightfully, and fill their death∣chamber with shreeks, and clamours. We cannot in the generall, give the causes of these different effects. For the most part, it is thus. At such a time, the soule heares her house crack, and now, threatning a fall. And she sees, that after the fall, all the house will be so confus'd, and out of order, that shee will not be able to stirre about, or doe any thing belonging to the keeping of a house: and that then, there will be no reason, why shee should rather be in her house, then in any other part of the world. And in a man∣ner, rising to goe, and likewise being call'd, and also, thrust forwards, she puts on. And going, she holds by the heart, and stands, as it were, with one legge in the house, and one without: and peeps abroad, to discover,

whither she is going: as never having been out of the house before. And according to the sight of the place, she must now take to; she frames, and alters the body in her de∣parture. And certainly, in this point of time, the man being shar'd betwixt life, & death, betwixt this world and the next; the soule sees, either a breaking of day, or a beginning of night. And so, turning againe to the bo∣dy, either to bid it farewell, if she be happy: or, with a desire to catch hold againe, and stay, if unhappy; works upon the body ac∣cording to the apprehension, she hath of the place shee goes to, gained in the discoverie. Here will I wish well to all persons: O that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider the latter end. The wise man, will understand it; and the un∣derstanding man, will consider it.

Good Lord, Lord God blesse us, and give us grace; at all times, morning and evening, day and night: in all places, abroad, and at home; in bed, and at board, to prepare for this dangerous passage. When wee must be turn'd going, one halfe of us, and the halfe, wee never saw; and yet, the better halfe; and that alone: and be posted out of dores, from a fleshly Tabernacle; from a house, which of all houses of that kinde, is onely knowne to us: a house, which was

built for us, and which falls, when wee goe from it: to a new kinde of being, which as yet, we cannot conceive, nor know by any kinde of intelligence. When wee shall goe from place to place, wee know not how; and see, wee know not how; and expresse our mindes to spirits like our selves, wee know not how; and receive their mindes, & meanings again, we know not how; and doe many other things, we know not how; nor can any man, that never dyde, tell cer∣tainly. O what a joyfull time will it be, when wee shall have put off our body, and left it amongst our friends, as Ioseph, his gar∣ment in the hands of Potiphars wife, and hee left his garment in her hand, and fled, and got him out: and shall have escaped out of this wicked world, innocent! when our sinnes shall not come crying after us: as they do, after the wicked soule. I am thy drunken∣nesse: I did often downe thee, and wash thee away from God: but thou didst never drowne me, and wash mee away from thy selfe, with teares of Repentance: Though I am thy drunkennesse, I have found the way after thee. I am thy sinne of swearing: I was stay'd in the Porch of thy body, in thy mouth, to thy last houre in the world, and I sweare, thou shalt not cast me off now. I am thy wantonnesse: I was thy

chamber-sin; and I will not now, be turn'd abroad. I am thy covetousnesse: and I did so farre covet to be with thee, and thou with mee, that Death could never part us. I am thy Anger; and I am not so angry, but I know what I doe: I will not be so base; after all our great aquaintance, to leave thee in my anger, when thou hast more use of me: For now, thou shalt be most outragiously angry with God, and all goodnesse. I am thy Pride: and now I have done my part in the world, I am onely proud of thy com∣pany: it is all my ambition, to follow thee. But the just soule goes away quietly, joy∣fully, and securely guarded with Angels; and is troubled with no such noise.

MEDITATION. XIII.

VVHen a man hath long dwelt in a strange Country, divided; yea, far distant from his deare Father, & friends; and now at length, begins to travell home∣wards: how often in his way, does he fa∣shion to himselfe in his thoughts, the face of his beloved Father, his words and ge∣sture. Indeed, as hee goes, hee takes many a weary step; hee sweats often; hee blowes; and is sometimes ready to faint: But, hee

cheeres, and cleares up himselfe; hee calls up a good heart, and thinks: when I come home, (and at the very name of home, the poore man looks cheerfully) they will run, and tell my Father, I am come. And my Father will presently start, rise up, and say, Are yee sure 'tis he? (I shall heare him, be∣fore I see him) And not staying for an an∣swer, he will make hast towards me: and seeing me, change his countenance, and run to me, and embrace me with both his arms; and, if he be able to speak for joy, cry aloud, welcome childe: and then, his joy having gone through all the expressions of joy, will borrow teares from sorrow; and then, hee will laugh; and then, cry againe; and then, again laugh: and the good old man will be so merry. And though I be a little wet, and weary now; this will have a quick end; and I shall have warmth, and ease enough then. We are here, poore banish'd creatures, in a strange land; very farre from our Country: wee are travelling homewards, or woe to us: Wee stick oftentimes in the dirt; and stumble in the stony way: we are wet, and weary: wee sweat: every bone of us akes, heart and all. But the comfort is: All this will have an end suddenly: and when we come home, we shall see our Fa∣ther, whom we never yet saw. (For, wee

were tooke from him being very young.) And, without the help of a Messenger to carrie the newes, hee will know, wee are come: and rise up, without stirring: and be with us, without running to us: and em∣brace us, and hugg us in his armes; and cry to that man, and to this vvoman; vvelcome childe, deare childe vvelcome. Wee shall looke upon him, and hee upon us: and at the first sight, we shall know him to be our Father, though wee never saw him. It is very strange, but more true: Should God conceale, and hide himselfe from us, vvhen vvee come to Heaven, and leave us in his roome, the most glorious Angell of them all, to looke upon; vvee should naturally know, the Angell vvere not God. The soul out of the body, knowes naturally, God to be God, Angels to be Angels, Devils to be Devils: as vve naturally know, and distin∣guish men and beasts: and as Adam in his Innocencie, knew to call every creature by his proper name. The Septuagint, or seven∣ty Interpreters, in the fift Chapter of Esther, have related the Story of Esthers comming into the presence of King Assuerus, seated in state upon his royall throne: to whom, no man or vvoman might approach, but entertain'd with the sentence of death, not being calld'd; more largely, then the ordi∣nary

vulgar editions have. They report, that vvhen shee first appeared before him, her countenance vvas divided betwixt fear, and shamefastnesse. First, a modest blush ran over all her face; and then, a palenesse: quickly after, she began to faint, and suffer a kind of ecclipse of Nature: Shee fell into the armes of one of her mayds; and she vvas not able to looke upon him, or stand before him: till hee rose from his throne, caught her into his armes, and said, What is thy re∣quest? it shall be even given thee, to the halfe of the Kingdome. Farre more vveake, and afflicted, vvould be the case of a soule, ap∣pearing in the presence of God; did not God himselfe enable her. The splendour of his Glory, vvould appeare so bright; that hee could not be look'd upon. The great∣nesse of his Majestie, vvould shew it selfe so terrible; that hee could not be endur'd. And therefore, hee does as it vvere put out his hand, and lift up the soule, being fallen before him; and then, she takes courage, and runnes upon him, as a pretty little mayd in∣to her Fathers armes.

MEDITATION XIIII.

BUt the vvicked, besides their present pu∣nishments, must expect a dreadfull sen∣tence in the Lords day: Depart from me yee cursed into everlasting fire, prepared for the devill and his angels. What horrour, vvhat fearfull trembling, vvhat a mighty confusi∣on of severall cries, vvhat howling, vvhat bellowing vvill there then be? how they vvill be tormented, even before they are dragg'd to the torment? Depart from mee. O gracious God, (perhaps they may reply) remember, vve are thy creatures: and thou canst not but remember; for, vvee depend now, in our being, of thee. We vvere made by thee, and for thee: let us not, O let us not be divided from our last end: for, after such a divorce, vvee shall never enjoy re∣pose, or take any rest: vvhich every thing, vvith all the bent of nature desires. If we should goe from thee now, wee should ne∣ver know, vvhere to meet vvith thee again. Wee are made according to thine owne image: O drive us not from our patterne. Shall we part from thee, in whom are met the excellencies of all creatures, in a most excellent manner; purified from all stain of

imperfection: and in whom, all finite per∣fections are infinite? From thee, who art the great sea, out of which, all Rivers run; and to which, they ow themselves, & return. Wee were the master-peece of all earthly creatures: When thou hadst created all the spacious Universe, thou diddest draw an abridgement, and Epitome of it, againe in us: and nothing was found in the whole Volume, which was not touch'd, and men∣tion'd in the Epitome. All other creatures were framed looking downwards, toward the earth; as having nothing heavenly in them, or in heaven to hope for: thou gavest us faces, erected towards thee, and heaven. And since we have look'd towards thee, so long; let us be with thee now in the end, we beseech thee. No: Depart from me. Yee have no part in me. My merits, by which, yee hope for mercy, are so farre from help∣ing yee, that they rise in judgement against yee. Depart from mee, and goe to him yee serv'd; demand your wages. If then wee must goe and goe from thee; at least, good Father, give us your blessing before we go. Set a mark upon us: that when we are found by thine, and our enemies, they may know, to whom we belong; and spare us, for feare of thee. Thou that hast so great store of blessings to give; we hope, hast one yet, in

store for us. We crave but a small blessing. O, it is a little one. Thou art our Father, (wit∣nesse our Creation) and it is a chiefe pro∣perty of a Father, to blesse his children. No. Depart from mee yee cursed. In place of a blessing, take the full curse of your Father; as having beene most prodigall, and diso∣bedient children. I catch from yee, all your title to mee, and my Kingdome: and be∣cause yee have followed him, who had my first curse, share curses with him. If, if then, wee must goe from thee, and goe ac∣cursed; Yet appoint us, blessed God, a meet, and convenient place for our residence. Create a fruitfull peece of ground: let a goodly Sun daily shine upon it: let it have sweet, and wholsome ayre; and be stor'd with fruits and flowers, of all formes, and colours: Give us under-creatures in great variety, to serve fitly for our uses. And be∣cause we are enforced to goe from thee, the source, and fountaine of heavenly sweet∣nesse; afford us plenty of earthly pleasure, which may in some sort, recompence our paine of losse. Speak but the old word, Fiat, let it be; and such a place will presently start up, and shew it selfe. No: Depart from mee yee cursed into fire: Though I in∣tended not the burning of spirits, and soules. For, I am faine to lift, and elevate fire above

it's nature. (O the wisedome of God!) to such an extraordinary way of action, be∣cause sinners have transgressed the Law of na••ure in disobedience. You sinned a∣gainst nature: I punish above nature; because I cannot punish against nature, vvho am the prime Origin of nature, and may not proceed against my selfe. Fire? Alas that ever wee were borne. Of all the foure Elements, of which, the world con∣sisted, it is the most active, and curious, and searches farthest: and where it but onely touches a sensible thing, it is seconded by a paine unsufferable. Thou didst create fire for mans use; and shall it now, rebell against man, as man against thee, and become his tormentor? Who is able to rest in fire? The very thought of it, burneth us already: we are tormented: Come, come, let us run away, but whither? Lord God, if it be irre∣coverably in thy Decree, that wee must goe thus naked, as we came into the world, and went out of the vvorld; into fire: let the sentence stand but for a very short time, quench the fire quickly: halfe an houre will seeme a great while there: and be alwayes mindfull, that they are thy creatures, vvho are in the fire: that they are men and vvo∣men, whose nature thou hast exalted to a personall Unity, with thy Divinity. No:

Depart from mee yee cursed into everlasting fire: It was kindled by my breath: and it hath this property, amongst other strange qualities; that it is an unquenchable fire: as long as I am God, it shall endure, and yee broile in it: which being the most active, and powerfull amongst inferiour creatures, hath a charge to revenge the injuries done to God, and all other creatures, by man. O horrible! Yet heavenly Judge, alot to vs some good Comforters, whose smooth and gentle words may, i•• it can be, sweeten our torment, and somewhat dull the most keene edge of our extremity: Let the Angels re∣create us with Songs, and Hymnes of thee, and thy blessednesse; that we may heare at least, that sweetly deliver'd, which others in a full manner enjoy. No, no: to the rich man in the Parable, I did not grant one of his requests, which he made from hell: nor will I meet your desire in any thing. There∣fore, Depart from mee yee cursed into ever∣lasting fire, prepared for the devill and his an∣gels. They shall be your good comforters: such as will triumph in your miseries; and your most deadly enemies: who will now discover to yee, all the deceits and by-wayes, by which they led yee captive from mee; and give yee every houre, new names of scorne, and reproach. Here will be a noise,

and clamorous out-crie, shall fill all the world with shreeks. O the divine excel∣lency of holy Scripture! It wil not be long, to this time. And then, the world will be gone, or going, and all on fire. Shall I ever forget this day? Shall any idle mirth, or vaine tickling of pleasure, or profit, put mee beside the most necessary thought of this day? Shall not the consideration of this day, crush out of my heart, many good, and ready purposes? As, Lord, open my eyes; touch them with earth, and cure my blindnesse: that I may see, what I am made of, and perceive the truth of things: For, sure I will here stay, and begin a new course in the way of Heaven: I will no longer be blinde, and senselesse. That side, in which, I am weak and batter'd, with Gods holy help I will repaire: I will now wash my garment; and afterwards, hold it up on every side: When a Temptation stands up in armes against mee, I will fight valiantly under the banner of Michael the Archangel, against the Dragon: vvhat if the common Souldiers be fearfull, and timorous crea∣tures? our Generall is a Lyon: I will search with a curious eye, into my heart, and dig up all the roots of sin. My soule is continu∣ally in my hand, saith holy David; And my soule shall never be out of my hand: that

turning it continually, I may observe, and wipe away the smallest spot: and make up every cranny, by which, the devill enters. O Lord, hold thy hand now, once more: forbeare a little; and all my study shall be, to please thee: in all companies, in all pla∣ces I will temember thee: And when a sin, to which, I have been formerly accustomed, shall come againe for ordinary entertaine∣ment, I will fright it away with the re∣membrance of these powerfull words, De∣part from mee yee cursed into everlasting fire, prepared for the devill and his angels.

I will ask my self one question; and then, I vvill have done, that I may begin to doe. Canst thou dwell vvith eternall fire? If thou canst, and vvilt doe nothing for love; goe on in the old vvay. But if thou canst not dwell vvith eternall fire; stop here, and repent; that thou may'st come at last, where they are, of whom it is said, The soules of the righteous are in the hand of God, and there shall no torment touch them. For then, Tout va bien, as it is in the French phrase, All goes well. I most earnestly commend these Me∣ditations, and others in this Booke, going under the name both of Meditations, and Considerations, to all good Christians: that they will vouchsafe to make use of one or more of them, in a day: that the Jesuits, and

others beyond the Seas, may cease for very shame, to boast so vainely, that none doe frequently meditate upon God, and good things, but they. For their Meditations, which treat of true Subjects, I commend them sincerely: But, all their Meditations, are onely naked, and short poynts, (as they call them) and they leave him that medi∣tates, to discourse upon them; which many cannot doe, and but few can well doe. Saint Austen hath given us an order, which they observe not.

CHAP. 14.

BEfore I leave S^t. Omers, I must needs give you a gentle touch of the Jesuits Hypocrisie there. For, besides other follies of that rank; they have set up a large pi∣cture, in a faire roome above staires, where the Schollers come every day. In vvhich are pictured two ships at Sea; and one is taken by the other: A ship of Hollanders, takes a ship of Spaniards, wherein many Jesuits are. The Hollanders look fierce, and cruelly: the Spanish Jesuits, have all good, and heavenly faces. The Hollanders having bound the Jesuits, hand and foot; and throwne them over-board; they sink, and

dye like men, a spectacle full of horrour; onely some of them appeare floating upon the water, (I suppose, their galls are bro∣ken) with faces very like dead Saints. But one of them amongst all the rest, can neither dye nor sink, because he beares a Crucifix in his hands, though they are bound; and the Painter hath given him a better face, then all the rest. I would to God, these people did either love God truly, or not make a shew, they love him. And their labour is not one∣ly, to bring the Schollers in admiration of other Jesuits by false wayes: but also, of themselves. For, they had one in their house at that time, who had beene stung by the old serpent; and was more crafty, then religi∣ous, in the report of all disinteressed persons, that knew him: Concerning whom, part of the zealous Boyes beleeved, (and whence could this come, but from the Jesuits sugge∣stions?) that he had seen the virgin Mary: and that upon a time (for so, every tale be∣gins) shee had appeared to him, when hee was hot in his prayers. And when their bu∣sinesse led them to his chamber, they would whisper one to another: that is the place, where the virgin Mary appear'd to Father Wallys; and they would observe that cor∣ner with reverence. The Jesuits have al∣wayes Secular Priests, Adherents to their

body, stirring men, and such as they are sure of; whom they keepe warme with a pro∣mise, to receive them afterwards into their order; but will not presently, for some ends: either that they may stay with them, and buy purchases for them, which they must not be seene to look after, and the like: or, to deale some other cunning businesses abroad, which will not beseeme them to act, in their owne behalfe: or, to write books in their defence, or at least to prefix their names before the Books; that they may be defended, and praised by other men. One example will not take up much room: A Secular Priest of this quality, was sent from England, not many yeares agoe, into Germany: and there, presented a petition to the Emperour, to which many English Pa∣pists had subscribed their names; (I suppose, all Jesuited Papists.) And the matter was, to begg an English Colledge in Germany, which might be governed by the Jesuits: which appeared a very faire Petition, be∣cause the Messenger was a Secular Priest. Sure, the Apostles of Christ, had little of this wisedome. Such a man there was, now at S. Omers: who shewed often, to the young Frye, a pr••••ious Relique; calling it, a feather pluck'd from one of the wings of S. Michael the Archangel. I know, there

hath been a Story related formerly of them, somewhat like this. And I am certaine, that most, if not all their tricks, are fashioned in the likenesse of things formerly done, or said to be done, for many reasons. Invention is not so happy, as it hath beene. And all won∣ders must be like, that they may seeme to proceed from the same Father. But they now say, this was an act of merriment. I answer: My Author, a Scholler, and a dis∣creet person there present, did not conceive it so; nor yet perceive, that it entred in that forme, upon the apprehension of others: And, it is not safe jesting with exercises of Religion. One thing must not passe, though many doe: The Jesuits are the most sweet, and most honey-tongu'd people, that ever I heard speak. Some of them, are ancient, and grave men, and now, stooping towards their grave: and yet, after every word, even when they speake to young greene Boyes, they come with, yes forsooth, and, no for∣sooth; their Caps being off, and a courte∣ous forme of duty expressed: and forsooth, with, yes pray if you please, and no forsooth pray; take up a great part of their discourse.

CHAP. 15.

IT hath beene alwayes, the custome of wanderers in Religion, to guild their de∣formed errors with Hypocrisie; and to put on all shapes, for the manifold advantage of their Profession. Simon Magus, the first, that ever display'd the banner in this kinde, against Christ, and Christian Religion, by the power of the devill, as Nicephorus re∣counteth, taught Images to walk, stooles and dishes to passe from place to place with∣out a Guide: Hee would appeare in the midst of a great flame, untouch'd by the fire: he would flye in the ayre: turne stones into seeming bread; take the fearefull shape of a Dragon, and of other Beasts; that hee might with the Kings of Egypt, amaze, and terrifie the world. Now hee would shew himselfe with two faces: and now againe, seeme to be all gold. Dores, strengthen'd with able barres, and locks, he would open with a word; break iron fetters; and in ban∣kets, present a shew of sporting Images, in many forms, and divers colours. Shadowes did goe before him, which hee interpreted, to be the soules of dead persons. And thus, he would seem to work miracles in triviall,

and unnecessary matters. Intruth, hee was any thing, the spectatours desired to see. And yet, a statue was consecrated to him, by the wise Romans, with a glorious inscription, Simoni Deo Sancto, to Simon, the holy God. Behold here, the Father of Hypocrites. Tully doth not praise Catiline, when hee sayes that hee was made up of the mixture of all other mens natures. Nor doth Homer extoll Proteus; of whom, a pious Author most e∣legantly singeth, Spumat aper, fluit undae, fremit Leo, sibilat anguis: Hee foames like a Boare, he flowes like the water, he roares like a Lion, hee hisses like a Snake. Now I shall dive low. God is so faire, and excel∣lent, that he can never appeare to any crea∣ture, which he hath made, or can make: to men, or Angels: or any creature possible to be made, more perfect then an Angel; so ex∣cellent, and so faire, as in himselfe, hee is. The reason is ponderous, and worthy to be pondered. God can never appeare to any power, in his compleat fairenesse; except that power be of capacity to comprehend his fairenesse: no power can comprehend his fairenesse, except the power be of an in∣finite capacity, because God is infinite: no creature can be of an infinite capacity, be∣cause no creature can be infinite. The last proposition, and the reason of it, flow natu∣rally

from the premises. But, look farther. Because God in his owne Essence, being, and nature, being by nature most neere to him; is infinitely excellent: and therefore, neither doth, nor can appeare in his full shi∣ning to any creature; hee doth hate especi∣ally, hate inwardly, hate from his heart, an Hypocrite: and can by no meanes, be at peace with one of those; who being endued with shallow perfections, are but a small particle of what he is, a meere atome of his excellency; and yet, make a noise with the shallow brooks; and chiefly desire to ap∣peare more then what they are; and seeme to be, what they are not. If the thoughts of man, were as audible as his words, he could not beare one thing in his heart, another in his tongue: But in the creation of man, the heart was shut up by it selfe; and lyeth open to none, but him that made it; whose privi∣ledge & prerogative it is, to be 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, the searcher of the heart; and therefore, there may be Hypocrites in respect of us, but not, of God. And no man aspireth to a seeming excellency above himselfe; but one stretched with the swelling of pride, be∣yond the condition, in which hee stands; and pride hath many Companions. By which, it appeares eminently true, that Hy∣pocrisie is not a melancholly, and single sin;

that it goeth not without a traine; that it comes in the midst of an Army, as if it had proclaimed open warre against Heaven; and therefore, is hatefull to God, for many respects.

CHAP. 16.

OUr Saviour cries, as if hee would ne∣ver have done crying: Woe unto you Scribes and Pharisees, Hypocrites; for their hypocrisie had many faults, and therefore, many woes were due to them, as hypo∣crites. When God deales with servile na∣tures, he begins to frowne, he threatens wo, and torments: because the Slave is of a hard skin, and is more stirred with a blow, then with soft, and gentle admonitions; and therefore, the hypocrite is of a rough, rag∣ged, and servile disposition. And when God threatneth paine, and woe, it is cleare, that those with whom he dealeth, cannot be raised by any other meanes. For, we have driven God to his last refuge, when he flyeth to threats: and therefore, the hypocrite is, as his Father was, in the gall of bitternesse: and, neither the gracious promises of the true Father; nor the grievous performances of his Sonne, and our Saviour; nor yet, the

glorious perpetuity of Heaven, can heat, or kindle him. You must tell the thiefe, (for, he is a thiefe, as robbing God of his rich, and pretious honour) of the whip, and the lash; of the Jayle, and chaines; that he will ne∣ver leave, till he be hang'd; and that there is a dark dungeon below; and devils, and damned spirits, and fire, and brimstone, and perpetuall horrour. It is remarkable, saith S. Cyprian, that Christ under the name of Scribes and Pharisees, reprehendeth even the Priests, and high-Priest. For, lest hee should seeme to thwart the Priesthood, and chayre of Moses; striking also, at the Priests, and high Priest, he saith onely, Woe un••o you Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites. The out∣ward acts of divine service, being perfor∣med in the old Law, by way of shadow, and figure; and with resemblance, and relation to the perfection of the new Law; and be∣ing, as it were, the first lineaments of per∣fection: we may not think, that God would have excluded the Swan, out of the sacred number of his victimes; without a firme, and solid reason. He was not tempted with the choyce cleannesse of her feathers; nor with her fore-stalling of death, and singing her owne obsequies: but because her skinne, the root of her feathers, and her flesh and en∣trals, the organs of her musick, were black;

he rejected her, as an uncleane creature, not worthy to teach the world. The Ostrich likewise, was esteemed profane, and never admitted into Gods holy Temple; because notwithstanding all his great, and glorious furniture of feathers, he cannot lift his dull, and drossie body above the ground. The Moone shineth; but because it doth not heat, it is not suffered to shine by day. It is the property of good, to shrowd, and cover it selfe. God the chiefest good, though he fil∣leth heaven, and earth, with his glory: yet, he will not be seene. Christ, though he was perfect God, and equall to his Father: yet nothing was ordinarily seene in him, but a poore homely man. Who ever saw the soul of a man, his onely jewell, as he is a man? Christ said to his Apostles, Yee are the light of the world. And againe: Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorifie your Father which is in Heaven. It must be light, and therefore, a true light, not a counterfeit, and seeming light; it must be your light, every mans owne light: it must be a light, by which men may see, not onely the good light it selfe, but also our good works by the light: and it must shine onely to the end, that our heavenly Father may be glorified. All light is commonly said to be derived from the

Sun: and the cause of all our shining must be alwayes referred, and attributed to God. And truly, when a man, for example giveth almes; kindled onely with an intention, that his neighbour seeing him, may glorifie his Father, which is in Heaven: his inten∣tion is cleane, and sufficiently good; but he must be a man of proofe, that giveth place to such intentions: for he lieth wide open to the ticklings of vaine-glory, and hypo∣crisie. But I feele a scruple: Good ex∣ample is highly vertuous, and in some sort, worthy of reward, especially, in persons of eminent quality; because good example is more seene, more admired, and goes with more credit, and authority in them: and therefore, doth more edifie, in respect of the high conceit wee have of their wisedome, and knowledge. Now the hypocrite teach∣eth as forcibly by example, as the sound, and throughly vertuous man. For, we learne in the great Theater of example, by what wee outwardly see: and the hypocrite is as out∣wardly faire, as the sincere Christian. It seemeth now, that an hypocrite doth please God, in playing the hypocrite. Not so: be∣cause his intention is crooked: for, he doth not intend to bring an encrease of good to others, but of glory, to himselfe. If good by chance break in upon his action, it falleth

besides his intention; and it belongeth to Gods providence, as to it's proper fountain, which crusheth good out of evill. As like∣wise, the prodigall man, when hee giveth prodigally to the poore, doth not intend to fulfill the law of God; but to satisfie his owne wilde lust of giving. S^t. John Baptist was a lamp, burning and shining. Which moved St. Bernard to say: Ardere parum, lu∣cere vanum, lucere & ardere perfectum. It is a small thing, to burne only; a vaine thing, to shine onely; a perfect thing, to both shine and burne. Nothing is more naturally pro∣per to the fire, then to burne; and in the instant, in which it first burns, it gives light. Which is the cause of those golden words in Synesius, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉: It is the nature of God to do good; as of the fire, to heat or burne; and of the light, to give light.

CHAP. 17.

ANd certainly, if we search with a cu∣rious, and piercing eye, into the man∣ners of men; we shall quickly finde, that false Prophets, and Deceivers, are com∣monly more queint, more various, and more polished in their tongues, and publike be∣haviour,

then God's true, and faithfull Mes∣sengers, who conforme themselves to the simplicity of the Gospel. And, if we looke neere the matter, God prefigured these de∣ceitfull creatures, in the creation: (for, hee hath an admirable way of teaching, even by every creature:) it being the property of a cruell beast, called the Hyaena, to faine the voyce of a man: But when the silly Shep∣heard commeth to his call, he ceases to be a man, teares him presently, and preys upon him. Each Testament hath a most fit ex∣ample. Ioab said to Amasa, the head of Ab∣solons Army, Art thou in health, my Brother? Could danger lurk under the faire name of Brother? or, could death hide it selfe un∣der health, a perfection of life? They could, and did. For, Ioab, making forward to kisse him, killed him: and robbed him both of health, and life: whom hee had even now saluted with, Art thou in health, my Bro∣ther. Surely, he did not think of Cain, when hee call'd him Brother. Judas came to Christ, and saying, God save thee Master, kissed him. Hee talks of God, and of Salva∣tion, God save thee. Hee confesses, Christ to be his Master. Hee kisses too. And yet, in the same act, gives him up into the busie hands of his most deadly enemies. Where∣fore St. Ambrose, one that had a practicall

knowledge of the great difference of Spi∣rits, which hee had seene in their actions; disswading us from the company, and con∣versation of these faith-Impostors, saith, Nec vos moveat, quod formam praetendere videntur humanam; nam et si foris homo cernitur intus bestia fremit: let it not move you, that they beare outwardly, the likenesse, and simili∣tude of men: for, without a man appeareth; but within, a beast rageth. And that, which St. Hierome saith of a quiet Sea, is of the same colour with the conceit of St. Ambrose: Intùs inclusum est periculum, intùs est hostis: the danger is shut up within; within is the Enemy: like a rock, watching under a calme water. St. Cyprian adviseth us, to be∣take our selves presently to our feet, and fly from them. Simus ab eis tam seperati, quàm sunt illi de Ecclesia profugi. Let us fly as farre from them, as they have flowne from the purity of the Church; and that's a great way. St. Cyprian in the same place, ex∣horteth us very seriously, not to deale with them, not to eat with them, not to speake with them. O the foule corruption of our Times! O for some zealous power, that may reforme the abuses, mine eyes have seene! It is one of the first endeavours of the Papists in England, which they exercise to∣wards the society of men; to gaine the good

wills of Ministers. For, if they purchase the Ministers good will, and good word; they clip the wings of the Law; & hold him fast, that hath a great stroke in matters concern∣ing them. And where the Papists have great meanes, they are very free to Ministers in their entertainments, and send their Coaches for them, and their wifes. But when they have beene merry, and are gone; their good name, which they left behind them, hath not as good entertainment, as they. For, the Papists say, (and I have heard them,) These Ministers are the veriest Epicures, meere belly-gods; if we fill their bellies, we shall be sure to have them our friends; when the bag is full, the Pipe will goe to our tune, a long time after. Modo ferveat olla, if the pot seeth, and there be warme meat providing for dinner, what care they, whether there bee a God, or no? If wee licker them throughly, with strong Beere, and good sparkling Canary; and call them to ride, and hunt with us; they will talke fami∣liarly with our Priests, and heare them jest at their Religion, and at the Professours, and Defenders of it; (and as freely jest as they:) and yet, will honestly keepe coun∣sell: they are not Christians, but Atheists. And thence the Papists fetch, as they think, a strong argument against our Religion. And

whilest these Ministers frequent their houses with a pretence of converting them, (for so they tell ignorant people, that groane under the scandall) they subvert them utterly. Truly, a Minister, and a daily Guest of the Papists, enquired when this Book, (which I intended for the service of God, and the detestation of Popery) came into the light; that (said he) I may sit by the fire-side, and laugh at it: and I beleeve, he will, if he can spare so much time from drinking. The Lord forgive him, and teach him to be pra∣cticall in the practicable things, in which this Book is doctrinall. But why should I be opposed in my reasonable proceedings against the Adulteresse of Rome, by my own Mothers owne children? and so often, by so many of them? or why should entertain∣ments, or private ends be more deare to them, then Gods truth? Let every man ob∣serve, what great Christmasses they keepe, and how they abound in dancing and revel∣ling; striving thereby, to make the hearts of the Country people, which are soone ta∣ken with such baits, their owne; lest they should at any time, either accuse them, or beare witnesse against them. And in their houses, many, if not the greater part, of their servants, were lately Protestants. O Lord, whither doe they pull us, one by one? I

know, where having one of a Family, they made the number up five presently; and the Father had bin but a while before, a Church∣warden: and these are all Attendants upon a rich Papist. I would their devotion did not blaze so much, and so often, like an Ignis Fatuus, lead poore Travellers out of their way. It is my opinion, grounded upon ex∣perience: In every day of the year, O pitty! Some, and more then we dreame of, in this little corner of the world, are drawne with queint devices, with smooth tearms of Art, with trim speaking, and eloquent behaviour, from us, from our owne body, by them to them. O weak people, to be thus drawne! weake in life, or understanding: or at least, weak in resolution, selling Christ for a messe of pottage, or for thirty pence at most. If the Papists goe on, there will be quickly, I say not few, but fewer sound hearts in England. Take notice of this all good peo∣ple. If we have no zeale, we have no religi∣on, no Church: and zeal is like fire; if it be, it burnes. Wee carry our selves perinde quasi nihil accideret grave, saith St. Chrysostome, cùm membra nostra putrescunt: as if no harm did happen to us, when our own limbs drop away in corruption, from our bodies. But I turne to the matter in hand.

CHAP. 18.

THe Teachers of the Arian Heresie, by which, Christ was throwne downe from Heaven, to the degree of a meere crea∣ture; were the most affable, and most insi∣unating people, that lived in those dayes. How subtill were they, both in the propa∣gation of their faith, and the carriage of their manners? they shewed the poore plaine people, three corners of their hand∣kerchers, saying, Here are three, and these three are not one: how then, can three per∣sons be one God? And they did not juggle onely, with the simple sort. For, they de∣luded six hundred Bishops, by a cunning proposall, whether they would worship Christ, or 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉: who, because they were not skill'd in the Greek language, an∣swered, they would worship Christ, and not 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉: little thinking, they denied Christ to be consubstantiall with his Father. And, how cunningly did they scrue them∣selves into the favour of great-ones; mo∣ving one by another, as, Constantine by his ••••ster Constantia? What did they not at∣tempt against holy Athanasius? they sub∣orned a false woman, to accuse him of rape;

they brought in, the arme of a dead man, with an intention to soyle him with mur∣ther, and sorcerie: they would have pulled him limb from limb, in the midst of an ho∣nourable Assembly. In very truth, no people were ever so like these heretikes in their practises, as the Popish Priests, and Jesuits of these days. I have heard from themselves, that one Jesuit sat singing in a Coblers shop, with his apron before him, to hide himselfe from the Officers, that pursued him: ano∣ther, councerfeited himselfe to be drunk, and acted it rarely, that he might put a trick up∣on a Constable; and that a third, dancing with a Lady, heard her Confession, sin after sin, as he met her, because he wanted better opportunity. These are but pranks; yet, the good Fishermen would not have done so. What black sin will they not fix upon him, that is their enemy, though a friend to Christ? But here I cannot stay. Yet note: God hath layd a curse upon dissemblers, that if you neerly follow their lifes, and actions with your eyes, you shall clearely perceive them, often tripping, and plainely discover∣ing the foule disorder of their hearts; in crooked proceedings, that doe not favour of Evangelicall doctrine, or Apostolicall gravity. It is the prophecie of Esay, The waters of Nimrim shall be dried up. Some

English it: the Panthers waters shall be dried up. The Panther (say the best writers of naturall History) being exceedingly spot∣ted, doth seek out secret fountains, wherein to wash, and rub it selfe: thinking by this meanes, to put off the foule badge, and corse livery of nature, and the colour of its coat, which it likes not. But the Panthers wa∣ters, shall, one day, be dryed up. No figge∣leaves, good sonne of Adam; no painted veyle of sincerity; no long cloak of dissem∣bled holinesse. If you are found naked, you must appeare so, before a great Assembly, made great by all the great Assemblies, that ever were. I am a plaine man, and I must speak plainly, because I do not judge rashly; the judgement of experience is certain. The good Bishop of Rome, who lived when there were good men there; Evaristus, saith worthily, writing to the Bishops of Egypt, as he is alleadged by Gratianus: Deus au∣tem omnipotens, ut nos à praecipitatae sententiae prolatione compesceret, cùm omnia nuda & aperta sint oculis ejus, mala Sodomae noluit au∣dita judicare, priusquam manifestè agnosceret quae dicebantur. The omnipotent God, to draw us back from the precipice of rash judgement, although all things are naked, and open to his eyes; yet would not judge the sinnes of Sodome upon a single relation:

hee would manifestly see the truth of the matter in practise, and draw an experi∣mentall conclusion. Not that God acquireth knowledge by experience, or other wayes; for experience is a knowledge of things, which we knew not: but, for our learning. Vnde ipse ait, saith my Author, Descendam, et videbo utrum clamorem, qui venit ad me, opere compleverint, an non est ita, ut sciam. Wher∣fore God saith, I will goe downe now, and see whether they have done altogether according to the cry of it, which is come unto me: and if not, I will know. Wee had lost many good things, had not Gratianus beene in the way; and this was one: First, God will go down, and take paines to see the truth of what hee hath heard; and then, he seems, not to know what he knowes, that we may learne, and know what wee know not. Knowing and seeing, hee went downe to see and know. I knew not, and I went to see; and having seene I know. Scientia est ejus, cujus est de∣monstratio, saith the Philosopher, we know that, which is evident to us by a demonstra∣tion. And that I may cement the discourses of men with truth; and because the contra∣ry hath beene preached, and mightily de∣fended; and it is my part, to maintain truth on all sides: here I cannot hold from plain∣speaking. In all the Churches, which ever

I saw, belonging to the Church of Rome, in France, Spaine, Italy, and the low Countries, and also in Rome it selfe; the high Altar, where the Sacrament is kept, and delivered, and which onely can fitly be likened to our Communion Table, in regard it is but one; is encompassed with Rails: which Rails are cōmonly placed above the steps, by which they ascend to the high Altar: within w^ch Rails, the Priest only, and he that serveth at Masse, do abide, except in the singing of high Masses, when hee is accompanied with the Deacon, Sub-deacon, Master of Ceremonies, and two Acolythi: Upon which Rails, in all Communions, is laid along cloath of linnen, which the Communicant holdeth with his hand toward his mouth, while he doth cō∣municate: and at which Railes, the people doe alwayes receive the Communion. I contribute this Testimonie towards the sa∣tisfaction of Truth-maintainers: Oyee Mi∣nisters of England; yee are, or ought to be, the light of the world, the salt of the earth: Shine therefore to the world, and season the earth by your good examples: Be humble, as Christ was humble; Be temperate; be con∣tented sorte vestra; be laborious: But above all, seeke peace; and pursue it. And forget not to be direct, and sincere Preachers of the Gospell of Christ. If the Trumpet give an

uncertaine sound, who shall prepare himselfe to battell? I confesse, I am bold. It is my love that speaks, mixed with a feare, lest we should fall into the foulest scorne of proud Rome. I will close up all with an Apostoli∣call Admonition. Now I beseech you, Bre∣thren, by the name of our Jesus Christ, that yee all speake the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you: but that yee be perfectly joyned together in the same minde, and in the same judgement. And spare, O spare the seamlesse garment of Christ. And what I know, I can demonstrate. This shall end this. Priests (if they will be call'd so) are like starres, upon the powerfull influence of which, dependeth all the course, and dispo∣sition of this inferiour world. If they be starres of a gentle, and milde aspect, they bring health, peace, plenty, every good thing; if otherwise, plague, warre, famine, all mischiefe. Either what wee preach, let us preach over, and over, and over againe, by example; or we shall, after all our long talking from the Pulpit, onely cast an of∣fensive block before our weake brethren; put innocent Christ to the blush, whose royall person we present; and vilifie our do∣ctrine. It is said: Iesus began both to doe, and teach. And this way ranne the streame of his doctrine, Hee that shall doe and teach, shall

be called great in the Kingdome of Heaven. First, let us do; and afterwards, teach. For, then it is beleeved, that we beleeve our own doctrine, when we teach it, preach it, pro∣claime it the second time, in the schoole of Manners. Salvianus saith truly, Atrociùs sub sancti nominis professione peccamus, We sinne more grievously, when our sinne breaketh out, from under a glorious profession. I will not denie while I live, but that, as Unity is the due perfection of a Thing; so order, of things. For, in a diversity of things, there must be order, or confusion. If not confusi∣on, a unity in diversity; which lest it should be lyable to frequent divisions, must be dealt, and disposed by order: from whence rises that faire good Greek word, made for the purpose 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, faire goodnesse. For, things are good, as things; and faire, as ranked in order. Dionysius giveth us an ex∣ample in beauty, where every part, feature, and colour is proportionably placed in or∣der. I grant willingly, that the Church of Rome is outwardly one, and orderly; but this may be policy, not religion. If shee be one, and orderly, as shee ought to be; shee must be one in faith, and doctrine with the Apostles; and the same in doctrine, and practise. The Cameleon (they say) sheweth all colours on her skin, but white and red:

and yet, those onely set our perfect beauty. And the fairest in the Canticles, is white and ruddy; and his Spouse like him, In operibus candida, in sanguine purpurea, white in works, and purple with bloud; snow∣white, not whited like a wall.

A word here, pray. It is past my graspe, to comprehend, (and I beleeve, beyond the Sphere of all our Activities) how the notes, and marks, by which the Romanists pro∣fesse to know the true Church, when they see it; may in reason be noted for such. An∣tiquity is an accidentary thing, a thing sepe∣rable (if a thing may be said seperable, which was never joyned) from the true Church; and a thing common to it with other Churches. Accidentary, because it founds not the Essence of the Church, but happens to it by the fluencie of Time. Sepe∣rable, because the old Church in the dayes of Adam, and the new Church in the time of the Apostles, stood firme, and was it selfe, without it. Common, because the Antichri∣stian falshood, which triumpheth in the Sy∣nagogues of Sathan, was borne almost as soone as truth; and unchristian falshood, before her. Multitude is not so proper to the true Church: because it agreeth neither alwayes, nor alone, nor altogether to her: Not alwayes, because neither to the primi∣tive

Church, nor to the Church in the Ar∣rian, and other persecutions. Not alone to her, it is as well knowne, as the Sunne. Not altogether to her, because although ma∣ny are called, yet few are chosen. Of suc∣cessions, there is one of doctrine, another of persons: the first is a mark, the second is a mark to the sense, not to the soule. There is also, a two-fold Union, one mysticall, and spirituall, in the bond of faith; another ex∣ternall, in the bond of profession. That is a plaine mark, not this. And Union is not proper to the Church alone. For, the wic∣ked, and the world of Infidels, are often uni∣ted. The Kings of the earth set themselves, and the Rulers take counsell together against the Lord, and against his Annointed. It is a close Union, when they joyne both their persons, and their Counsells. And Union doth not alwayes agree to the Catholike and Universall Church; because particular Churches are oftentimes divided, and torne with dissentions. As, the Church of Greece differs in many points from the Church of Rome, which the Roman Church dealing with us, calls matters of faith; and yet, the Church of Rome will turne about againe, and stile her onely, a Schismaticall part of the true Church, cut from the communion, be∣ing externall, but not from the body of the

Church: And her Priests, with licence from his Holinesse, may say a Grecian Masse upon a Popish Altar. And high Masse after the Grecian custome, is sung every yeare upon S. Athanasius his day in Rome, even by Gre∣cians. And many particular Churches, and private Doctors amongst the Papists, cry up for matters of faith, the points which others throw into the number of private opinions: and these all deeme themselves to stand under one and the same Verticall point of Religion. These marks may suit as agreeably with the Beast, in the Apocalypse, as with the Church.

Notes

• Let not my Reader re∣ject many easie things be∣ing joined with a few that are not so ea∣sie; because in the best book, the Elephant swimmeth, and the Lambe wadeth.
• Can. 4. 3.
• Thom. A∣quin. in Cant. 4.
• 1 Es 16 17
• 2 Luk. 14.
• S. Chrysost. & Basil. in Liturgiis.
• Gen. 15. 9
• Verse 11.
• S. Aug.
• Episcopus Ponti, in ep. ad Leon. Imp.
• Tho. Aq. part. 1. quaest. 1. art. 5.
• Luk. 10. 16
• 20 Ex. 19.
• Psa. 123. 2.
• S. Ambr. lib. 2 de vo∣cat. Gent. cap. 8.
• S. Just. A∣polog. 2.
• Euseb. li. 2. Eccl. hist. cap. 22.
• Ruffi. Eccl. hist. lib. 1. cap. 7.
• S. Ambr. lib. de Elia, & jejunio, cap. 16.
• Idem, ibid.
• Eph. 5. 18.
• 2 Tit. 12.
• S. Bern. in Serm. sup. Ecce nos reliquimus omnia.
• Boet.
• 1 Cor. 11. 21.
• Iam. 1. 27.
• Psal. 55. 6.
• Cant. 8. 4.
• Is. 38. 14.
• Cant. 7. 11.
• Luk. 22 41
• Arist. 1. Met cap. 1.
• Psal. 51. 5.
• S. Cypr. ad Demetriad.
• Mat. 26 52
• 2 Phil. 8. 9.
• S. Greg. lib. 35. Mora∣lium in Job cap. 12.
• Mat. 26. 39
• Arist lib. 4. Met. cap. 4. text. 16.
• Gen. 2. 7.
• Damasce∣nus in vita Isidori.
• Arist.
• S. Greg. Naz
• S Ber. Ser. de divinis.
• 2 Phil. 7.
• Psal. 128. 3
• Gen. 3. 1.
• Plat. in M••∣••••x••••••.
• Gen 3. 5.
• Gen. 3. 6.
• Rom. 1. 12
• Gen. 3 8.
• Gen 3. 12.
• Ver ••3.
• Aug. de cor∣rept. et grat. cap. 10.
• Es. 24. 8. 9.
• S. Greg.
• Ier. 22. 29.
• Esay 40. 6.
• 32.
• Arist. Ethic.
• Hier. ep. ad Paul.
• 1 Cor. 7. 31
• Reve. 7. 9
• Sen. ••p. 2.
• Revel. 14. 13. Dionys. Areop. in ep. ad Joan. in exilio agente. Ver 11.
• Deut. 32. 29.
• Gen. 39 12
• Transl. sept. interp. in 5. cap. Est.
• Est. 5. 3.
• Mat. 25. 41
• Gen. 19. 20.
• Psal. 119. 109.
• Wisd. 3. 1.
• Nice•••• lib. 2. ••ccl. hist. cap 27.
• S. Iust. in Apolog. 2.
• Math. 23.
• Act. 8. 23.
• S Cypr. lib. 4 ep. 9.
• Levit. 11.
• Math. 5. 4 Ver. 16.
• S. Bern. in Serm. de nativ. S. Io. Bapt.
• Synes. Con∣tra An∣drom.
• 2 Sam. 20. 9.
• Math. 26. 49.
• S. Ambr.
• S. Hier. ep. ad Helio∣dor.
• S. Cypr. in ep. 3. lib. 1.
• Existime∣mus.
• S. Chrysost. hom 1 ad∣versus Iu∣daeos.
• Ruff lib. 10 Eccl. hist. cap. 21.
• Esay 15. 6.
• Evar. ep. 2. ad Episc. Aegypti.
• Gen. 18. 21
• ••striA
• 1 Cor. 14 8.
• 1 Cor. 1. 10.
• Act. 1. 1.
• Solvia. lib. 4 de guber. Dei.
• Psal. 2 2.