The loyall subiect's retiring-roome,: opened in a sermon at St Maries, on the 13th day of Iuly, (being Act-Sunday) in the after-noone. A.D. 1645, before the Honourable members of both Houses of Parliament, assembled in Oxford. / By R, H. M, A. [sic].

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Outer, and an Inner. The outer, in the Letter, Christian Prudence. The inner, in the Allegory, Christian Pati∣ence.

Prudence in a seasonable flight, when a danger threatens. Enter thou into thy chambers, shut the doores about thee &c.* 1.1 As Rebecca commanded Iacob to fly to Haran,* 1.2 till Fsau's sury was asswaged: or as the Israelites came not out of doores, till the morning, when the de∣stroying Angell was abroad: So when a Persecution rageth, we must nor stand to our-face it, but retire into our chambers. This sense Athanasius gives the words, who grounded his Apology profugá on the letter of the text.

Patience in a quiet expectation of the Divine plea∣sure,* 1.3 Enter into thy chambers, &c. Not the chambers of Death, Purgatory, Limbus-patrum, or the Grave, as the Popish Commentators interpret it, of the retire∣ments of mortality, till the day of Judgment. Nor the chambers of pleasure, such chambering hath wantonesse alwayes behind the Hangings,* 1.4 but the chambers of de∣votion, patiently waiting for the salvation of the Lord. For if you please to light one candle by another, this of the Prophet,* 1.5 by that of the Psal. Luther sales they give the same light; Frett not thy selfe, because of the ungod∣ly rest in the Lord and waite patiently for him. Psal. 77. 7 O if this candle burne too dimme, will you bor∣row a Taper of the Fathers? Cubicula ingredimur, saies Gregory, we enter into our chambers, when we retire into the secret closets of our soules, we shut the doores about us, when we coerce unlawfull desires; or as the ordinary glosse, when we put a watch before the doores of our lipps,

least the greatnesse of our misery,* 1.6 prompt our tongues to blasphemy and murmuring.

Lastly the Argument of both, drawne from

• 1. The brevity of Affliction, Paululum ad momen∣tum, for a very little moment. If there be any ods in minutes take the least of them: and that not multiplyed, but donec pertranseat ira, till the indig∣nation be over past: 'Tis a verbe of speed, and bids you look up to the skie, and see how fast this cloude posts away on the wings of the winde.
• 2. The speedy releife we shall have from
  • 1. Heaven. Ecce venit dominus, behold the Lord commeth. &c.
  • 2. Earth. Terra revelabit, the earth shall reveale her blouds, and no longer co∣ver her slaine.

These are the parts of our present discourse, and for their multiplicity, I shall need no other apology, then that they are like the six cities of refuge, each a Sanctuary, and I cannot throw open too many in these times of Persecution, yet because he that hath many places to visit, must not stay long in a place, I shall discover them to you, with all possible brevity, beginning with that which begins all our discourse, the Complement, in 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 My people.

And a meere complement you may think it indeed,* 1.7 that he should call a company of poore captive Iewes, His people. He is not a true Courtier on earth, that will bestow more then a Complement on men in misery. But there is no such base Courtship in heaven. All God's complements are reall performances: He is

not ashamed to owne his people when they are at the worst. In captivity, as well as in liberty, the worst condition: In Babylon, as well as Jerusalem, the worst place. Populi mei, my people, in both. Nay when all happinesse and comfort seem to disclame them, then he invites them to himselfe, Come my people. Come? Lord, they have but a short step to thee, who art alwayes pre∣sent with them. When the world was covered with a Sea,* 1.8 for fecit inhabitare, he brought a flood of waters upon the earth, Ierome reads it, Deus inhabitans, God dwelt upon the deluge. He would not trust his little world in the Arke, but li••e another Neptune, he must sit upon the waters and seeme to venture the hazard of a shiprack with it. Ere Israel trode a step towards Ae∣gypt, I will go downe with thee,* 1.9 saith the Lord. Downe? what a word is that for a Deity? into Aegypt? what a place, that, for his holynesse. Yet, O the humility of our God! He never thinks himselfe low enough to doe his people good, no place too had for his society, which made it a rule among the Hebrew Doctors,* 1.10 that God and his peole are inseparable, he will beare a share in their misfortunes. Moses had the Hieroglyphick of it, when he appeared to him in a burning bush. A strange throne for such a majestie: yet here he laies aside the state of a Deity, and to rescue his people from the fire, puts himself into the mid'st of it. Will you but knock at Josephs prison doore, and there they will tell you, Dominus cum illo,* 1.11 the Lord was with him. Will you but cast your eye with Nabuchadnezar into the Fornace, and with Darius peep into Daniels denne, and in both Angelus Domini, the Angell of the Lord, put nature to a

contradiction; you have a fire burning and not con∣suming, The devourers devoured by their own prey, My people are gone into captivity,* 1.12 Ashur hath afflicted them without a cause, Et quià mihi nunc hìc, saies the the Lord, what do I now here? why, where would'st thou be, O Lord, but in heaven? is not that the Palace of thy Majesty? yet he seemes to be at little ease in heaven, whil'st his people are in durance on earth: his bondage is their captivity, and there is no heaven to him like his peoples Prison: or if you will read it otherwise (as some doe) Quid mihi nunc, what is now left me? you will wonder the more, that in the losse of a few Jewels, he should esteem himselfe Plundered of the whole Cabi∣net. Yet as the rights of the Crowne are all equall, and by slipping off one of those flowers, 'tis a shrewd figne given all may be lyable: so the divine providence hath an even property in all his Saints, and if he should suf∣fer some to be lost, he would bring his originall right in question. But this hath bin disputed by a deluge, and that could not obliterate; with the flames, and they would not consume; with age, and that could not anti∣quate, with all the powers of darknesse, and they could never get it by conquest. It hath puzled the whole Presbytery of hell to forge a Smectimuus against this Iu∣re divine.

But what a bold enemy hath God now upon earth, that dares out law whole kingdoms, and dash a nation at once out of the book of life, as if none were truely Sub∣jects to the King of heaven, but the stoutest Rebels a∣gainst their King on earth. O malice, where are thy bounds? Is it not enough, that thou hast banished us

from our cities, our country, our houses, but wilt thou disfranchize us of the new Jerusalem, disinherit us of hea∣ven, our truest home? Is it not sufficient, that thou hast stiptus of our dearest friends and fortunes, but wilt thou rob us of our God too? Is it no ease to thee, to con∣demne us for dead men while we live, and to make us un∣capable to serve God and the King, but wilt thou pur∣sue us in our gaves, and persecute us to the sentence of an eternall rume.

Though I ever esteemed S.* 1.13 Augustine the more pro∣sound Doctor, for being called by the Manichees Pra∣do anima•…•…am the Pyrate of soules:* 1.14 King Iames the founder Protestant, for being the Popes Heretike, & you the more orthodox Christians, because you are the Tray∣tors Papists: yet I pray God our wicked lives have not atticulated this Blasphemy to them. For will you e∣steem Him a Roman, that always walkes in a Persian habite, Him an Israelite, whose language is pure Aegyp∣tian, or Him an Englishman; whom nature hath died a very Aethiopian? If we are God's people, true Israe∣lites indeed, we should weare the habite, speak the lan∣guage, and live according to the Lawes and Constitu∣tions of his Kingdom. When the Curashier Bishop was presented to the Pope,* 1.15 he would not owne him for his Sonne, Hae non est tunica filij, This is not the eoate of my Sonne. And when God shall behold us in our exo∣tike fashions, dressed with the vanities of all forraigne Nations, when the times call for sack-cloth and ashes: when he shall heare us speake in that infernall language of execrations and blasphemies, when bleeding England begs for our prayes: When he shall see our faces speck∣led

and pyed, to court and adulterous eye, when our pre∣sent miseries should bedew them with teares to pacifie our angry God, what can we except but a Non novi, I know you not. This is not the habite, the language, nor complexion of my people: very true in the old law, where we do not read that every your strang spotted beasts were accepted for sacrifice. The claime God layes to us is by right ofa 1.16 dominion, and so we owe him subjection; by right of purchase,b 1.17 so gratitude; by right ofc 1.18 Con quest, so Homage; byd 1.19 Covenant, so Fidelity: yea by a sweere 1.20 Communion and so we owe him our dearest affection. And cannot all the cords of love binde our Allegiance? Into what a sacred snare hath the Almigh∣ty brought himself, whereby he is chain'd up as it were, and bound to be Our God, and yet no bonds can hold us to our Obedience. Necessity hath forced the proudest heart to be assistance of that hand, which prosperity taught him to scorne: And me thinks, if there were no other argument left us but our owne misery, it should teach us so much wisdome as to keeepe God our friend. The Church of England hath long called upon her lovers, but she finds them, as her elder Sister did, False,* 1.21 Deceperunt me , they have deceived me. Humane friendship is like Quick-silver, which you may incor∣porate into Gold, but cast it into the fire, and 'twill steale away, as if it scorn'd it's acquaintance: but the divine love is not made of such running mettall; The Christi∣an cannot be cast into a Furnace of affliction, that is too hot for his maker. 'Tis a fiery tryall indeed, but of God's love, as well as the Christian's faith. As the King of Ar∣ragon was sayling into Sicily, he observ'd the brids at∣tending

the ship,* 1.22 whil'st he threw corne to them: but when they had eaten that up, away they flew, whereupon saies he, Persimiles his garriss purpur all & curiales mei, My Peeres and Courtiers are very like these birds; I shall have their company by sea and land, so long as I feed and dignifie them: but if my treasure fayle, they take their wings, leaving me and the ship to the mercy of the storme. Great Alphonsus, thy Court is but the em∣ble me of all mankind: so Scottish and coveteo us are the hearts of men, that there cannot be a true loves-knott tyed amongst them, but in chaines of gold, and threds of silver: but our God is no mercenary diety. He followes not our ship for booty or pillage: but as Queene Eliza∣beth one styled her self,* 1.23 the poore man's Queene: so out God is the Banish't, Imprisoned, Plundered, poore mans God. My people? Lord, whom dost thou speak to? wilt thou owne us in our bloud, and look upon us in our mi∣sery? We have been indeed, Gens deo chara, A nation be∣loved: but now (O our misfortune!) Invisa deo, Ab∣horr'd of the Almighty. Once Rignum Dei, the King∣dome of God: but now, (O our fall!) Magnum latroci∣nium, A den of Theeves. May we not say with Rebecca, if it be so, why am I thus? if we are still thy people, Lord, why are we thus efflicted? But did you never heare, what Ausonius answer'd Caesar, when he desir'd a copy of his Verses,* 1.24 Non habed idingenij, I have not so good a fancy, O Emperour: but command me and I shall have, Cur me poRe negern, poRe quodille putat, why should I say, I cannot doe, what he thinks I can: So if God still call us his people, why should we think we are not? Did he owne us in our Sinnes, and will he disclaime us in our

Sorrowes? could our very Injuries move him to compa∣ssion, and shall our calamities enrage him against us: Is it his custome to make men miserable, and then ob∣horre them? If he chasten every Sonne whom he loves, adversity sure is but an argument of his dearer affecti∣on. Will any man take the paines to prune a Vine, that is none of his owne, or weede the Garden, that is ano∣ther mans? Propriety is the ground of care, and by this we know we are his people, that he careth for us.* 1.25 When King Edward told John of France, his Prisoner, that he should have his liberty, if he would but doe him ho∣mage for the Realme of France,* 1.26 He answered him free∣ly, like a King, That he must not speak to him of that, which he neither ought, nor would doe, to alienate a right inali∣enable: Affliction may engage my person, but never the in∣vielable right of my Crowne. And doe you think the God of heaven will debase himselfe to doe homage to those two proud usurpers, the World and Devill for his dominions? no, His Propriety is as in alienable and im∣mort all as Himselfe. Though now our ship be almost sinking, yet because it is his Vessell, 'tis an undoubted ar∣gument to me, that he will rebuke the tempest, and bring it safe to land. Doe you thinke the God of heaven will loose his right? Though our Soveraigne be now persecuted his life and honour, yet because, He is God's Anoynted, you may be confident, he will restore him to his Crowne and Dignity. Doe you thinke the God of heaven will loose his right? Though the Church ne now almost buried in her owne ruines, yet because it is His house, He will repaire it into it's former Beauty and Lustre. Did you ever know the God of heaven cheated

of his right? In a word, where ever we cast our eyes now, we behold nothing but misery and destruction, yet because he is still pleased to owne us as His peculiar people, we may assure our selves, that notwithstanding our manifold provocations, he will yet looke upon us for good,* 1.27 and in the day, that he maketh up his fewels, sparens, as a man spareth his owne Sonne. Never thinks the God of heaven will loose his right: But that we may still take the boldnesse to present our selves before him, as his owne in Christ, and with the Preist between the Porch and the Altar, make it the argument of our devo∣tion,* 1.28 spare thy people, O God, and give not thy heritage to reproach. And so least you should think I meant to en∣tertaine you only with a Complement, I descend to the Counsell, my second generall: And therein, First the Advice of the Letter Christian Prudence in a season∣able flight. Enter thou into thy Chambers, shut the doores about thee, and hide thy selfe.

A Chamber was never but safe and delightfull to a contemplative mind,* 1.29 but now so much the better, as the world is worse.* 1.30 'Tis a happinesse not to be a wit∣nesse of the mischeife of the times, which 'tis as hard to behold, and be innocent, as to converse with and be safe: so that he, who needs not a chamber for contempla∣tion, may for Protection. The old law opened cities of refuge,* 1.31 and sure the Gospell hath not shut them. He that gave the persecuted counsell, to fly out of one city into another, allowes every man the choyce of his owne Sanctuary. When a danger approaches so neere, that there is no safety in staying, and God offers us the wings

of a Dove, faire and certaine meanes of escape, not to fly then,* 1.32 were 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, in Athanasius phrase, to condemne providence it selfe, & to scorne deli∣verance, when 'tis kindly administred. For though God be omnipotent and can fetch a deliverance for us out of an Impossibility, yet because his power is commanded by his will, and his will is to save by meanes, Abomni∣potentiâ Dei non est inferendum quidlibet, We must not presume to inferre more from his omnipotency, then what is authorized by his will: else we should make no more use of God's imperiall power, then we do of juglers, only to shew tricks to the world, & to please every man's humour, with a fresh miracle. Who can read without admiration, that God should fly from a weake man that he before whom the earth moves, and the seas goe backward,* 1.33 should be put to this poore shift to save his life from him,* 1.34 whom a despicable worme could con∣quer: yet our Saviour fled into Aegypt, leaving us an example that we might follow his steps.* 1.35 He could have commanded an officer of heaven to have stroke Herod dead, or call'd out a Legion of Angels for his life-guard, but that he would instruct our presumption, not to ex∣pect an Act of grace, where the Common-Law may re∣lieve us: not to look for a Miracle, where ordinary pru∣dence will protect us. Why doe you not call home your Armies, and dismount your Ordinance, if you can ortaine the victory by sounding of Rams-hornes and breaking of Pitchers, yet with such an Artillery, Israel battered Iericho to the ground? Nay, why so much provision for a Seidge, if you can perswade the heavens

to fill your Magazins with Manna enough? yet they were so curteous to the Israelites campe: but, if you dare not trust such an Artillery, or Sucklers to your Army, why will you venture your lives on a certaine danger, upon the presumption of an extraodinary and disingaged providence?

Nor doth it excuse the rashnesse, that Persecution is God's visitation. For what evill is not? The sword of Pe∣stilence, as well as the sword of Warre, both are weapons of divine justice: And why will you court one more then the other? doe you make any difference, whether you perish by a stab or by an infection? Since then the danger is equall, why not to be declined with equall prudence. Lot did not think it safe staying among the flames of Sodome, because they came from heaven: nor would the people embrace the Leper, for the divine hand that smote him. This were not to perish by Gods visitation, but our owne presumption, and to fetch in a judgment, not to have it sent us; he that bid us fly, when we are persecuted, did not except himselfe, when, with reverence be it spoken, he became a Persecuter.

But whether can we fly from God's hand? Can we be too nimble for our destiny? or cheat the fates by changing our Hemisphere? No, as Alexander of Alex∣andria told Athanasius, whom he had elected his Suc∣cessour in that See, but saw him decline it: so our de∣stiny saies,* 1.36 Fugere licet, Athanasi, non tamen effugies. Fly thou maist, Athanasius, but thou salt not escape. Death is a common debt we owe to nature, yet he is not so cruell a Creditour, as to demand it before'tis due. The time of payment is set downe in God's booke, and so

long as we have any lawfull meanes to preserve our lives, the dare is not yet expired.* 1.37 Nomest nostrum arri∣pere mortem, sed illatam libentèr accipere: We must bid death welcome when he comes, but not hale him to us, and put the sit he in his hand whether he willor no: this were to antidare our owne ruine, and to make death it selfe guilty of murder by cutting us down before our time. Though Martyr dome be the Crowne of Christia∣nity, yet we may not be so ambitious of it, as to betray our selves to the Prison or Stake,* 1.38 as those furious He∣retiques, the Circumcellions in Austines time, that went up and downe begging Martyr dome, Come, Plunder, Stab, Burne us; and if none would be so kind as to kill them, they were so cruell as to become their owne execu∣tioners. The Fryers relate of their good Saint Francis, that he went up and down to Majorka,* 1.39 and Minorka, among the Mahometans, desiring to be put to death for Christ's sake; pitty, he should goe so farre for a halter, that had such a mind to it. But Christ himselfe was of another opinion, who hearing the Iewes had consulted to destroy him,* 1.40 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, he walked no more openly, but retyred into a Village neare a Wilder∣nesse, to teach all his Disciples,* 1.41 Origen saies, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Not to be too rash and hot upon dangers, though it be for truth it selfe. A wise Pilot will not run his ship wilfully on a rock, but if a tempest drive it, he will shew his skill and courage to save it from splitting. That Commander needs not an enemy, that will drive his men on the Cannons mouth. His temerity shall slay more then the enemies sword:or if he chance to slunder

upon successe, yet he is more conquered with such a Vi∣ctory, then by a discomfiture. So, he that seeks death, before death seeks him, dyes not a Martyr, but a Man. slayer.* 1.42 For what difference is there, between falling on my owne and running upon the point of another mans sword? He that dilivers himselfe into the hand of danger, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, He joynes in conspiracie with his persecuter against his owne life.* 1.43

But if any man should be so unkind to his owne soule, as to throw it away, yet he owes so much chari∣ty to his very persecuter, as not to give him an occa∣sion to shed innocent bloud: As Nazianzen ob∣serves of Marcus Arethusius his flight, that it was not so much in love to himselfe,* 1.44 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, but in compassion to his persecuters, least he should fuell their malice with his owne bloud.

Think me not though, so faint hearted an Oratour, as to perswade any man to fly from his Colours. Chri∣stianity is no such cowardly Religion: but there goe so many flowers to make up this crowne of Martyrdom, that he, who doth but simply dye for Christ, without o∣ther circumstances, is like to weare but a single flower, not the whole crowne.

Cuipatientia, mens benè conscia, congruacausa, Tempus & adsuerit, hic benè Martyr erit,

As my Countryman* 1.45 Alexander of Hales makes thē into a Posey. He that hath patience, a good conscience, a just cause, and (what makes the Crowne compleat) a fit opportunity to dye for Christ, He only deserves the name of a Full Martyr. The other three are like flowers in Autumne, withered and dry, till God's ap∣pointed

time: then they will blossome and spring, and flourish in the Crowne so that a future threatned danger we may decline without imputation of Cowardize, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, * 1.46 because of the uncertainty of the event: but a present unavoydable one, we must un∣dergoe with the highest expression of valour. When our Saviour's houre was come,* 1.47 he called his friend Pe∣ter, Devill, for disswading him from his Passion, & the Devill Judas, friend, for betraying him to it. Wonder not at Ignatius, and Germanicus,* 1.48 who being both con∣demned to the mercyles teeth of wild Beasts, provoked those savage creatures to teare them in peices. Censure not S^t Basil's Vtinam, when his immodest persecuter Modestus threatned him, with present death. Would to God it might goe so well with me, said he, as to leave this carcasse of mine in the quarrell of Christ. Did you be∣hold the three Christians laid on a griditon by Amachi∣us,* 1.49 to be broyled to death, what could you expect, but teares, and supplications for mercy, or an open renoun∣cing of their faith: yet as if those burning coales had only kindled their zeale, they gave him this flour, If thou dost long, O Amachius, after broyled meat, turne the other side of us, least thou make but a raw feast of it, and the bloud run about thy teeth. Such was the undaun∣ted courage of the Saints, when they saw a necessity of suffering, that they more tormented the Persecuter with their constancy, then he could them with his tor∣ments, God knowes, how many of our lots is may be, to drink of this bitter cup: keep in our chambers we may, and pray with our Saviour. If it be possible let this cup passe from us: yet if God shall put it into any of our

hand, take it off we must with the greatest cheerfull∣nes: 'Tis but a mornings draught, to that long and hap∣py day, Aeternity.

* 1.50 Tertullian, & Theobaldus Thammerus, would have the Preist begin to you in this cup, against whom they shut up all Sanctuaries in time of persecution. The Apostles might decline it, if it were offered them in one city, by flying into another, because they were Preachers-gener∣all, Ministers to the whole world, and so whither soe∣ver they went, they were still in their Parish, but we who are Sheepheards to one little flock, if the wolfe come, must perish with them. Forthe people are their owne, the minister the Peoplēs; Them God hath trusted with their bodies, Him with their soules: Nay, shall we preach to them,* 1.51 Netimete, Feare not them that kill the body, and we first take our heeles? or did Christ say it, only to the Laity,* 1.52 He that denies me before men, Him will I de∣ny before the Angels of God.

* 1.53 Yet all this is but a kind of zealous Montanisme. For Tertullian taking a discontent that his countryman Victor was preferr'd before him to the Bishoprick of Carthage, after the death of Agrippinus, turn'd Monta∣nist, & employed those acute parts of his, in defending many the Heresies of that Sect, in which catalogue is the deny all of flight to the persecuted. For the Cataphry∣gians so magnified Martyrdome; that they would not al∣low a man to save his life, though he could without scan∣dall For my part, I did never love to uncover the naked∣nesse of any the ancient Fathers of the Church; But when their opinions stand in cōpetition with the truth, then S^t Cyprian hath given me a rule, Non debemus at∣tendre

quid aliquis ante nos faciendam putaverit,* 1.54 sed quid, qui ante omnes, Christus priùs fecerit. We must not look what any did before us, but what Christ did before all. He scarce saluted the world, but declared himselfe a man by flight, as well as by those querulous passi∣ons of hunger and thirst. And what he did 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, af∣ter the manner of men, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Athanasius saies,* 1.55 is common to the whole kind: And shall nature be so cruell a Step-mother to our tribe only, as to deny us the pri∣viledge she indulgeth all her sonnes? Look into the Saints Geography, & you shall find a double Synode,* 1.56 each consisting of fifty Prophets in a cave: The first Aposto∣licall Councell held in Golgotha,* 1.57 among dead mens bones: The Apostles had no other Convocation-house, Quaresmius saies, but a larg cave or an ample sepulchre: Nor did they like men, but beasts, In Latibulis, in their denns and burrowes: Shall I give you a map of S. Paul's flight, out of his covert at Damascus,* 1.58 to Iconium, from Iconium to Lystra, from Lystrato Ephesus, thence to Macodonia. You cannot forget old Polycarpe* 1.59 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, hid in the cockloft, when his persecuters search't the house for him. S. Cyprian in his chamber, when the people cryed, Cyprianum ad Leones, Away with him to the Lions. S. Augustine lock't within doores, when the Manichees, that could not confute him with argument, would have done it with the pon∣yard. S. Basil in the solitude of Pontus, when the peevish Prelate Eusebius molested him at Caesaroa. And though Origen in his youthfull yeares was such a hot spurre, as to run upon danger, yet in his riper age and judgement, when Alexandria was too hott for him, he was glad to

accept of a corner to save his life. What should I tell you of S. Chrysostome,* 1.60 who, when there was a Synode pack't by Theophilus to condemne him, withdrew him∣self, and sent them word by Demetrius, that they must not take him, for Tàm slultum, so very a fool, as to be try∣ed by such Iudges, as were his professed enemies, but in a full convention he would make his defence. Nay great Athanasius,* 1.61 who for forty six yeares, was chased up and down by those Arian bloud. hounds, Constantine, Con∣stantius, Julian, and Valens, with so much malice and severity, that scarce any of the foure Elements did dare protect him, but he was compelled to live in a Cisterne, and sometimes in his Fathers toomb like a dead man.

And here I cannot passe by, that false imputation, which Thammerus casts on this reonowned Prelate,* 1.62 viz. That the occasion of his flight, was his own Avarice, in en∣grossing the corne, Constantine sent to the poore of Alex∣andria: A foule crime in a Bishop,* 1.63 to rob the poore: but of this, and other false accusations preferr'd against him by the Arians, he was acquitted before the Empe∣rour, and in a Councell at Sardica, a city in Illyria; when Julius Bishiop of Rome sent a sharp Epistle to the Bishops of Antioch, for endeavouring to stain so Spotlesse an in∣nocence: the true cause of his flight being the bloudy malice of the Arian faction against him.

* 1.64 And truely where the life or liberty of a Minister is sought (as at this day) I am to learne what obligation should stay him for ruine. For he is not so much the peoples, but he is still Lord of his owne life: Nor be∣cause he hath the care of their soules, is it any warrant, he should neglect his owne. Our charity may begin at

our selves, though I would not have it end there. If my my conscience tells me, I shall not be able to contest with the temptation, that I have not patience for apri∣son; nor courage for a stake,* 1.65 Then as the Angell said to Ioseph, Arise I must, and take the young Childe, My weak faith, and fly into Aegytt. Better a prudent flight, then a presumptuous residence. I had rather accept of S. Paul's basket at Damaseus, and keep my faith,* 1.66 then fit by the high Preists fire with Peter,* 1.67 and deny my Master:* 1.68 With Peter Martyr rather leave my Church at Luca & enjoy a good conscience: then keep my Living and loose my faith with Quintus. Sure he cannot be faid to deny Christ by flying, who flyes least, he should deny him. Nay what more reall, and publique confession can he make of his faith, then to leave all for his Savi∣our? Lock upon his plunder'd house, his scatter'd pa∣trimony, nay the poor man's cheeks, that were fed with his bread, and doe they nor all suffer a kind of Martyr∣dome for his Allegiance? Can you behold his Wife and Children, the constant addition, and companions of his misfortunes, and doe they not all see me to you so many confessours of his Loyalty? Nay where another Curate can't be had, what if I should say, Domus ipsa di∣vinat, The very Parsonage house, can Preach obedience to the whole Parish? Tell me now, which denyes Christ before men, He that sits secure at home, and Rebels, or He, that exposeth himselfe to all difficulties, to keepe a good conscience. He that stayes in his house, and goes to Masse, or He, that flyes to keep himselfe from Idolls. Peter Martyr upbraydes the presumption of his Pari∣shioners, who esteemed him a Coward for his prudence,

and boasted that they were Equites Christi fortes & probati Valiant and approved Cavaleirs of Heaven,* 1.69 that would rather dye, then stirre a foot from. Christ's Ban∣ner, and yet ranne to the enemy, and faught under a Po∣pish Ensigne. O quàm multos fefellit haec vana spes? How many hath this vaine hope deceived? whil'st they despise this common remedy of weaknesse, or rather true Christi∣an policy, they run their consciences on a wilfull, and de∣served ruine.

Nor is the Ministers absence vncharitable, where his presence is vnprofitable: For it is not his absence, but the peoples profession, that exposeth them to the Wolfe: not his flight, but their faith, that invites the persecuter. Or if he did stay, when his office ceaseth, He is spiritually absent (the worst of the two) though corporally pre∣sent: yea, how unable were he to confirme the weake, who himself is the weakest? so that, where the people can have no benefit of his presence, they are his greatest Persecuters, that quarrell with his absence. Will you not allow him to learne to handle his weapon in a chamber, that he may come prepared, and not be hissed off the stage?* 1.70 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Flight is a fencing Schoole, where we exercise our selves at foyles with death, ere we come to a publique encounter. Call it no more Feare that he is gone, but Art: not cowardize, but strategem. He is stept aside, as the Fencer falls back sometime, to give the feircer onset: or the Souldier re∣treats, only to returne with greater courage to the bat∣tle. Have you but the patience, till the cloud breaks, and the Sunne will recompence your short darknesse with a more glorious light. Christ shall stay no longer in Ae∣gypt,

then till Herod is dead: then, the Sunne of righte∣ousnesse shall rise in Inry with heading in his wings. Let not Carthage thinke they have quite lost their Cyprian,* 1.71 in lesse then two yeares Decius dieth, & he returns their vigilant Bishop and Pastour. Doth Alexandria despaire of ever seeing Athanasins againe? why, the very same power, that first banished, restores him againe to his seized Bishoprick.* 1.72 For Constantius is now sending his Imperiall letters, to invite him home, and devout, George the sequestratour, must out of his usurped Prelacy. Doe but permit Luther to keep close,* 1.73 till the Popes Bull hath done roaring, and you shall heare him again in his pulpit at Witenberge. Suffer Melancton to hide a while in the Cities of Harcinia: when the Seidge is raised,* 1.74 he will returne to his Divinity schoole in that Vniversity. The text allowes not of such chamber, as should entertaine you in a perpetuall security, but by the septuagints word, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, they are like the Cabinet, where you put up your Iewels safe, till you please to weare them, or the common Magazins, where you lay in provision, till ne∣cessity calls it forth.

Besides, will you make the Almighty so vnskilfull a Generall, as to venture all his Army on the very first charge: some Reserves he will have for the Necessities of his Church: As Demosthenes, when one upbrayded his flight, answered, Serve me patrioe,* 1.75 I keepe my selfe for my Country: so the learned Clergy, that take fanctuary here, and in other places of safety, are but the Churches Reserve, not to be commanded up, till the very last plunge of the Battaile. And how many triumphs doth the Church owe to this one Persecuted Brigade? When

all the world was Arian•…•…,* 1.76 stout Athanasius lead up the Reserve of Orthodox Bishops, and quite roused the Here sie, that it could never gather a head since. When the Pope had the necks of all Christian Princes under his club foot, and they held their Consciences, and Domi∣ons in Vassalagae from him, did not that poore Reserve, Lather a single Monk cut off this Philistin's head with his Owne Sword? I cannot tell what we should have done for a Redeemer, had not David saved his life in a Cave Could you have had the branch, if the stocke of Iesse had been cut down and withered? Nay we had all been Pagans till this day,* 1.77 had not some of those fifteent thousand, that fled from ferusalem at the Stoning of Steeven,* 1.78 crossed the Brittish seas: By this, the Romane Scepter was prevented by the Crosse of Christ, and Eng∣land made one of the first Chambers, where Christianity was borne. In all the rety rements of these worthies, the Church hath reaped a very plentifull harvest. Had shoe nor many of* 1.79 David's Psalme, out of a Wildernesse, & a Cave? choyce flowers, for so barren a soyle. Saint Ihon's Revelations, out of the Ile Patmos, the place of his banishment: The Apostles Greed,a 1.80 out of a long vault at the foot of mount Olivet: where the Twelve drew it up, ere they dispersed themselves throughout the world: The Athanasianb 1.81 out of an old cisterne at Treveris in Germany, where that Father penn'd it a∣gainst the Arians. Godly and learned men are of such a diffusivanature, that like the rivers, if they be denyed passage in their proper channelts, they swell above the banks, and water the sterill country about it. S. Cyprian being banished Carthage, retyred to Curhis, confir∣ming

the Martyrs, and releiving the poore. S. Chryso∣stom in his exile to Cucusus wrote that divine Paradox, Nemo Laeditur, nisi à seipso,* 1.82 and though he found the People Pagan, yet he lest them Christian: For by his unwearied paines and exemplary piety, he planted a Christian Chruch, and at his departure, ordeined seven Bishops, and many Presbytens there. You would think, Ivpbraided your Idlenesse, should I tell you of Ori∣gen's preaching at Caesanea,* 1.83 when he was driven from Alexandria: Of Peten Martyr's. Divinity Lectures at Argentoratum, When he could Preach no longer at Lu∣ce: of Lather's tomes, which he wrote in the Castle of Wartenburg, when they laid wait for his life at Wor∣matia: and of Brentius his Commentaries in his recesse,* 1.84 when the Spaniards expolled him his Church at Hala. You are not of this reserve, whom your Parishes have spued out for your drunkennesse and luxury: Nor any, that come hither, as to a Garden of pleasures, to live at ease, or as to a Faire of preferments, to ger honour and advancement, as too many follow our Aimies, onely for Quarter and pillage, who never meane to draw a sword. None are of the Churches Regiment, but those whom Conscience and Loyalty to God and the King, have brought to this place, and are willing, when God shall call, to lay downe their lives for the Churches good. As oft as I think of Witenberg, I esteeme every such Champion (How meane soever he seeme to the eye of the World) a Pledge of divine protection. For when Charles the sift besiedged that Vniversity, God so heard the prayers of Pomeranus and other learned men,* 1.85 that, when the Souldiens entred, instead of Violence,

they shew'd them all reverence, and spared the City for their sakes. Pray God, We never meet with a worse enemy.

By the divine Indulgence, we have this Zoar, this Pella yet left us: but if he hath purposed, this shall not be the last stage of our slight, as the Poet of himselse and his friend,* 1.86 Quocun{que}, in loce, Roma duobus erit: so, let this be our comfort, that God and a Christian, where∣ever they are, make a great city. He cannot want the conveniences of one place, who is accompanied with him that fills all places, and we may besure of His so∣ciety, who flye for his sake, as Nazianzen said of A. thanasius,* 1.87 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, He sled for the Trinity, and therefore with the Trinity.

Aske me not, What you shall cate, or what you shall drinke, or where withall you shall be clothed? Rather then your Heavenly Father will suffer you to want any of these, The Heavens shall raine Manna, the Rocks run with a pleasant streame, and the winds serve in Vari∣eties for you. You have forgot the Dry cruse, that sprang with oyle, the Lion's jawes, that distill'd hony, the Raven, that carried meat in his bill, and the Fish, that brought mony in his mouth, to defray the charges of God's people. All the creatures are ready to bring in Contribution, either provision or mony for their re∣liefe. We cannot sure be driven into a more barren soyle,* 1.88 then the wildernesse of Ziph; yet there David was satisfied, as with marrow and fatnes. Doe you not think the Angell mistaken,* 1.89 that he should send foseph with our Saviour into Aegypt, A Nation alwayes abhorred of the Iewes: this were, in your judgement, to deliver

him out of one danger into another: yet there the di∣vine providence designed him a safe quarter, and pro∣vided our tender Jesus a bed in Heliopolis, for his hard manger in Bet blehem. Whether could you imagine S^t Chrysostome was going, but as a certaine prey to fa∣mine and misery,* 1.90 when he went in banishment into Ar∣menia, without friend or fortune? yet there God raised him two noble friends, Philadelphus, and Diescorus, who esteemed themselves happy in so rich a prize, and became not only Patrons to his Person, but Proselytes to his Religion. How was it possible, great Athanasius could live six yeares in a cisterne,* 1.91 and soure moneths in his Father's monument, had not God moved the heart of a Vertuous matron to conveigh him dayly reliefe? Will you behold you owne misfortunes in reverend Brentius, who after twenty six yeares constant preach∣ing at Hala in Swethland, with his Wise and Children was, by the bloudy Papists, throwne out of his owne house into a hospitall, and,* 1.92 as if that had been too stately a Pallace for a poore Protestant, sent a begging, had not Vlrichus Duke of Witenberg, Hospitium occultum, en∣tertained him privately in his owne Court. What should I tell you of poore Merlin,* 1.93 who during the massacre at Paris (a fortnight together) was fed with one egge a day, which a Hen layd in the Hey-mow, where he hid himselfe? or of distressed Peter Martyr,* 1.94 whom Martin Bucer relieved at his owne Table, till he pre∣ferr'd him to be Divinity reader at Argentoratum, and procured him an honourable stipend of the Senate Since the divine providence hath found out so many unexpected wayes of relieving his people, why should

we think his hand will be shortned towards any of us, who are now under the like persecution? In the Civill Warres of France,* 1.95 the Papists scoffed the Protestants, that they had neither Men nor mony, but a God for all purposes, and this Magazine never failed them. We have almost for got our meane beginning: who it was, that advanced us out of the dust to be a terrour to our enemies? Had our King any Arsenall of Armes, but the divine providence? any Magazine left him, but his God? doe but continue your affiance in Him, and he will be Riches, honours, friends, maintenance, All to you. Or, put the worst that can be, if our Enemies should bear us off God's earth, yet they will but drive us into Heaven: and poore prize, they will have of our bones, (but a lasting monument of their owne shame) when our immortall Soules shall mount above the Stanes, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, * 1.96 a Place above the reach of a perse∣cution As Luther answered Cajetan's Oratous, when he asked him,* 1.97 where he could live safe, if Prince Frede∣rick did not protect him, Sisb Coelo, Vuder the Firma∣ment somewhere, bur if Earth will not entertaine me, Heaven shall, In my Father's house are many mansions, which puts me in mind of our Inner chamber, The Allegory, in Christian Patience. Enter thou into thy chambers, &c. This, as well as the Other, my next particular.

But we have been so long in the other,* 1.98 that as Cy∣prian, De patieptia dicturus, patiention vestram, Before I discourse of Patiences I had need be seech your patience: yet as Moses from mount Nebo, Had onely a view of Ca∣naan a farre off, and then dyed: so, Please you onely

to look into this Inner roome, and I shall conclude.

Patience is a retiring Virtue: shee alwayes keeps her chamber, and never goes abroad to meet affliction, but bids it welcome, when it comes. He is too delicate for her acquaintance, that cannot entertaine so chur∣lish a guest. Erras, erras frater, saies S. Ierome to Helio∣dore,* 1.99 You are mistaken Brother, you are mistaken, if you think to be a Christian and not to suffer. Twas Iulian's scoffe, but a true one, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, &c. 'Tis your duty,* 1.100 when Insuries are offered you, to beare them patiently. And if our duty, why are we such strangers to this noble virtue? Sure you are not so straitned in roome, but that you may spare Patience a chamber. Shee ex∣pects not any stately palace, but a Quiet mind: the least closet you have will serve her turne, But your Hearts. A cheap guest she is: you may save your hangings and Perfumes, she delights in no Ornaments, but the Crosse: no delicacies, but faith and hope: shee keeps not her chamber for state, but devotion, and shuts the doores against all company, but afflictions. A strange humour this! Can she dwell with misery and not the destroyed with it? Why not? Doe you not see the Keeper sport with his Lion, when the Spectatour will scarce trust his chaine. Misery lookes terrible onely upon strangers. Let patience bring you acquainted, and though it look grim vpon you at first, yet you will find it a very sweet companion. For Patience can tell thee, All thy misery is fetcht in by thy selfe, or sent from God.

If by thy selfe, No greater argument for patience. He that could never forgive another, will not sure be so unkind to himselfe, this were to adde Impatience to

Imprudence, and by the same reason thou vexest at thy former errour, thou mayest vex at thy vexing?

If from God,* 1.101 Cui magis patientiam, quam domino? To whom is our Patience more due, then to the Lord? He hath borne with our Injuties, and shall not we endure his chastisements? Proud clay, will thou ever be check∣ing the Potter? Insolent earth, would'st thou controll, where thou shouldest admire? Is his Wisedome him∣selfe, Himselfe infinite, and shall not be know what is most expedient for thee? Is his Justice himselfe, Himselfe mercifull, and because his proceedings seeme harsh, wilt thou call them unjust? In fine, Is his will the rule of his actions, His goodnesse of his will? And can any thing, but what is good, proceed from goodnesse it selfe?* 1.102 Tertullian is in the right, Beatum illum servum, &c. Happy the man, with whom God vouchsafes to be angry! Suffer him, O suffer him to scourge thee here, that he may spare thee hereafter. For did Mercy open all her bowells upon thee, yet she could not produce such another mercy, as this very Anger.

Indeed for a man to be throwne out of plenty into want, out of a large Revenue, unto almost an Almes, is as great a temptation, as now common. Yet remem∣ber, The greater the evill; The more glorious the conquest. 'Tis no Victory, to vanquish a poor worme, No praise, to wade over a shallow foard; but to cut the Ocean, and encounter a potent Enemy is the true gallantry, that deserves the laurell. Great evills have this benefit with them, that their difficulties are not so large, but their Crownes are proportionable, and

though they require much patience to conquer them, yet that is, onely that they may Crowne the Victor with the greater glory. Many of us, I know, were ne∣ver in the list before; now we are set upon by a fierce Judgement, shew what patience you have, what forti∣tude. Let not the Heathen Philosopher shame you, who could laugh at his owne shipwracke, when we cry out, as if our eternall happinesse were embarqued in a Coffer. He could throw that carelesse Epitaph after his goods, Pereant, ne Peream, Let them perish, least I perish with them; but we wish, we had sunke in the same bot∣tome, or with the discontented Israelites, That we had dyed, ere we came out of AEgypt. What meanes this Impatience, this cowardize? Have the Enemy sequestred your hearts, as well as your Lands? Have they plundered you of your Faith together with your Goods? me thinks I heare you talke like Laban, Wherefore have they taken away my Gods? As if you knew not, what to doe for a God, a Christ, a Heaven, now your wealth is gone. Come, dissemble no long∣ger, but professe thy selfe an Atheist, who knowest no Diety, but thy Mammon: Be no more a Christian, who can'st not suffer for righteousnesse sake. Never was any man looser by a sjust cause,* 1.103 though he had no∣thing left him, but his patience. He is richer with this then with the whole Indies. Righteousnesse will not be long in his debt: but he that hath lost a friend for Her she will pay him with a God. He that is deprived of his liberty for her, she will recompense him with a Redee∣mer, He that shall loose Lands, or Houses, or Life for Hes, she will repay him with a Kingdome, a Crowne,

yea Aeternity it selfe. O let me ever be such a looser, and Impatience it selfe cannot complaine?

Wherefore, let not your Hearts be troubled, but pos∣sesse your Soules in patience. Non Villas,* 1.104 non Laudes, Not your Farmes, not your Lordships, those you are least masters of now:but Animas, Your Soules, That manour you have still left you: nothing can dispossesse you of it, but your Impatience. And why will you make a For∣reign evill domesticall, and fetch in those furies, that are now abroad, to disquiet patience in her chamber? When Luther saw Melancton torne in himselfe at the distra∣ctions of the Church,* 1.105 Cur ad hunc modumte crucias, &c. said he, Why dost thou thus torment thy selfe with impatient thoughts? If our Cause be naught, why doe we not throw it up? If Just, why should we make God a lyar in so many promises of successe? If ever a sad Melanction be in this Assembly, let him intreat his patience to keep her chamber but a moment, and he, that is to come, will come and will not tarry: which is the last particular, I shall at this time treat of, the First argument, which like a key locks both chamber doores, Vs{que} ad momen∣tum, for a very little moment.

But are there any minutes in God's Ephemerides?* 1.106 doe such atomes of time come under his observation? Our Philomathists have kept their account so well, that they have lost us some part of our yeare: but God numbers the dayes, the houres, yea the very minutes of our affliction. No so exact a Chronologer, as the divine providence.

Yet you may say unto me, as the Disciples to Christ,* 1.107 Quid est hoc modicum, What is this little while?

we know not what he meaneth. For the Jewes were se∣venty yeares in Babylon, and yet he calls it, Tanquam param momenti, Not a full minute. Nay, Our foure yeares Troubles, which have seemed almost an Age to us, will he esteeme, but a moment! ô longum mo∣dicum!* 1.108 these are long minutes indeed, when shall we see an end of our sorrowes? But the Almighty mea∣sures time by another dyall then we doe: Not the mo∣tion of the Sunne, but the purpose of his will. The clocke was set from all eternity, but the flye cannot denore the minutes and faster then the poize, The divine pleasure, drives it. Did we set our wills by his will, God's clocke, and ours would alwayes agree and strike deliverance together. There was a Diall in Campus Martius at Rome, that never went according to the Sun: And if Our moments, and God's differ, 'tis because they are not set by his will. Our desires are poized with the heavy weights of selfe love, and our private ends, and therefore move faster, then God's will: so that the divine assistance may happily come too late in respect of our Hasty desires, but never in re∣gard of our True necessity. The shortest stay seemes long to a running mind, the longest short to the pa∣tient.

Esteeme not God then slow, who keepes the very minute of his promise, though he come not at the mo∣ment of thy expectation. In Chronicall diseases you must be ruled by your Physitian: though you may desire Physicke in the Paroxisme or hot sit, yet he may thinke it time enough when the sit is over. so, No∣speed to this same God's-speed, and then we are to

judge our deliverance quick enough, when he shall esteeme it seasonable,

Againe, I have seene the twelve signes of the Zodi∣acke compasse a Dyall, and denote the twelve houres of the days God hath signes about his Watch too, Faith, Repentance, &c. but Deliverance is one of the last: now would you have the clocke strike Twelve before One, deliverance before repentance? this is against the order of Numeration; The hand must point at Repen∣tance, and newnesse of life, ere it stand at Deliverance.

But will you give me leave to follow Luther's ad∣vices to put this noment in the Predicament of relation,* 1.109 and then he saith, it will Absorbere praedicamentum quantitatis, quite swallow up the predicament of quantity: that is, compare the time of our sufferings with that o∣ther of our sinnes, and the vasteternity, which expects us hereafter, and you will confesse, 'tis not halfe a mo∣ment.

[unspec 1] First looke upon your sinnes, on both sides, Their Guilt and Duration. The Guilt is eternall, though the Act be transient.* 1.110 For 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, God judgeth not alwayes of sinne by it's Continuance, but it's Nautre. Now, what proportion betweene a temporall punishment and an eternall one due? The very medi∣tation of an everlasting fire,* 1.111 made Austine cry out, Hie ure, hic feca modo in aeternum parcas, Burne me, O Lord, cut me in peices here, so thou would'st spare me for ever? O mercifull God, doe we murmur under a short Purgatory in this life, when we are liable to an eternall torment? if every sinne merit everlasting death, how many eternities of misery are due to out

many crying sinnes? yet thou hast given us, but a Sip of sorrow, that by a Praelibation of this bitter cup, we may prevent the drinking the very dregs in Hell: that by atast of tempor all misery, we may never be devou∣red by an eternali.

2 1.112 But will you as Elijah upon the Widowes Son, stretch this moment upon your sinnes, lay mouth to mouth, and hands to hands, and what a vast dispro∣portion will you find, betweene this Little David, and that Huge Goliah? A Childe of foure yeares old, Our present sorrowes, and this Philistin of threescore, Our past iniquities? The very fingar of this man of Gath, Our sinnes, is bigger then the whole body of our suffe∣rings, Job compares his sinnes to the sands of the Sea, and if you will sit downe and tell the sands of the Sea, and your sufferings together, what Alpes, what moun∣taines of sinne will you lay aside for one little heape of sorrow? O our Impanitency is our greatest Calamity! This hath spun out the moment into so many yeares al∣ready. For Warre is an Itinerary, not a mansionary evill: It is going it circuit through the World, and would soone passe through England, did not our many crimes deteine it in so long an Assize with us, Aske no more,* 1.113 How long shall I behold the Standard and heare the sound of the Trumpet? When God doth still com∣plaine. My People are foolish, they have not knowne me: they are wise to doe evill, but to doe good they have no knowledge. Wonder not, that the desire of our hearts, Peace, hath been so long an abomination to our Ene∣mies, when the Almighty doth yet stretch out his hands te Vs, a disobedient and goine saying People. Lord, what

Vnreasonable Creatures are we?* 1.114 Volumus delinquere & nolumus Verberari, We would of offend and not suffer for it. Thou must remove thy judgements, O God: but we may reteine our sinnes: Thou must not afflict us, but we may dishonour thee. I see I must be plaine with you: Is there a nasty drunkard, a rotten adulterer, or a damned swearer the lesse for these sad times? Are we not all more undone in our manners then our estates; and have we not lesse of virtue left us, then of our sub∣stance? Nay, would Salvian's complaint were not verified, Assiduitas calamitatum, augmentum crimi∣num, ô Incredible, The Continuance of our misery doth but increase our iniquity, like that snaky monster, that multiplyed the more for the beheading? Boast not to me, what a good Subject thou art, when thou dost re∣cruit the King with thy mony, and rout him with thy sinnes. Tell me not, what a freind thou art to thy Na∣tive Country, when thou wilt not expend a lust, to save it from ruine. How farre short art thou of the very Heathens piety, who did not thinke the safety of their Nation too deare, at the price of their bloud, and yet thou wilt not part with one of thy sinnes to re∣deeme it from destruction? Never speake of peace more, so long as thou art thus at open Warre with Hea∣ven. If you would have God keep his moment in pu∣nishing, why doe not you observe your modicum in sinning. Can you blame the Physitian, if the disease continues, when the Patient will not forbeare the meates that nourish it? An intemperate stomack doth but poyson physick, and so feed the malady with the medicine. And will you thinke the Almighty cruell,

That the Warre lasts, when Nos per nostrum non patimur seelus, &c. Our sinnes will not suffer the Enraged Diety to put up his Sword. Alas! His mo∣ment hath hitherto waited upon Ours: O Jerusalem, wilt thou not be made cleane? when will it once be? For God's sake, for the King's sake, yea for Sion's sake, let this be the day. God hath even put Deli∣verance in our owne power, and why will you de∣ferre your happinesse any longer? Humble your Soules under the mighty hand of God, and he will bend the stubborne hearts of our Enemies to Peace. Doe but Repent of your sinnes, and the Warre is ended: make your Peace with God, and goe, Pro∣claime Peace, throughout all England.

But Once more; Compare the time of your suf∣fering on Earth to that of your raigning in Hea∣ven, [unspec 2] and if a Thousand yeares be but as a day in that Kingdome, we have not yet suffered the hundred thousand'th minute of an houre of that day. The vast circumference of the Earth conteines more then two thousand and five hundred miles, yet the Mathematician will prove 'tis but a Point in respect of the Heavens,* 1.115 because from any superficies he doth not lesse behold halfethe Heavens, then if he were in the Center of the Earth. So the many thousand yeares extension of sorrow, is butan In∣stant in respect of eternity: Because eternity seems not lesse eternall if you look upon it from the very Center of misery. Will you see it tryed by Saint Paul, who stept up into the Third Heaven, to wrigh

the Crosse and the Crowne. And returned with this joyfull Probatum est, The most ponderous Crosse is but a feather in the scales,* 1.116 a Momentary light∣nesse, in comparison of that surpassing, exceeding, eternall, (where shall I stay?) weighty Crowne of glory.

Complaine not then of thy short paine, when an eternall ease expects thee. Thinke not that sor∣row long, that ends in everlasting joy: but hold out this little moment, thou hast but this one step to thy Crowne.* 1.117 And as the Bishop, when he was going to suffer, threw away his staffe, and bid his legges doe their duty, He should not trouble them farre. So command thy Faith and Patience to doe their last office, Jàm patùm itineris restat, Thou art almost at thy journyes end, at the very gates of Immortality: And what a dishonour to faint at the end of the Race? what a misfortune, to suf∣fer shipwracke in the Haven? stretch thy patience, but a moment, and what a blessed Change wilt thou finde it, To breath thy Soule out of sorrowes in∣to joy, out of misery into happinesse, out of ter∣ments into pleasures for evermore. For our pre∣sent affliction, will but adde to the degrees of our Happinesse, and we shall be the more blessed, that we were once so miserable.

O deare Lorà, so inflame our hearts with the love of Aeternity, that the longest affliction may seeme short, the heaviest light, in comparison of that everlasting blisse which thou hast prepared for us in

thy Kingdome. Vnto which bring us, for the me∣rits of Jesus, to whom with thee and the holy Spi∣rit, be ascribed all Honour and Glory, for ever, Amen.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Gen. 27.44.
• * 1.2

  Exod. 11.22.
• * 1.3

  A Lapide. &c.
• * 1.4

  Carthusian B•…•…. Muse•…•….
• * 1.5

  Luther in lo∣cum. Cubicula in∣gredimur, susecreta mer•…•… nostrae in•…•… m•…•… 〈…〉〈…〉 il∣licita 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ria•…•… •…•…us. Greg. 1.4. mor. 6.26.
• * 1.6

  Pone custodi∣am ori, ne ex vehememia tribulationis verkaper rumant in of∣fensam dei. Gloss, ordin.
• * 1.7

  1. The Comple∣ment.
• * 1.8

  Gen. 6.17.
• * 1.9

  Gen. 46.4.
• * 1.10

  Menos Ben. Isr. in Gen.
• * 1.11

  Gen, 39.21.
• * 1.12

  Isai. 52.4, 5.
• * 1.13

  Ribad. in vit. S. Aug
• * 1.14

  Tortus p, 97.
• * 1.15

  Speed Hen. 4.
• a 1.16

  Colof. 1.16.17.
• b 1.17

  1. Cor. 6.20.
• c 1.18

  Rom. 6.18.
• d 1.19

  Exek. 16.8.
• e 1.20

  1. Cor. 15.10.
• * 1.21

  Lament. 1.19
• * 1.22

  Panormitan lib. 1. derelus gest. Alphonsi.
• * 1.23

  Speed, Cron.
• * 1.24

  Epist. ad Aug. Cas.
• * 1.25

  Ezek. 34.11.15.
• * 1.26

  French Hist. in Iohn. 51. King.
• * 1.27

  Malach 3.17.
• * 1.28

  Iocl. 2.17.18.
• * 1.29

  2. The Counsell.
• * 1.30

  1. Literall.
• * 1.31

  Math. 10.23
• * 1.32

  Athonasus Apolog. pro fuga.
• * 1.33

  Apoca. 20. v. 11
• * 1.34

  Psal. 104.7.
• * 1.35

  1. Pet. 2. v. 21.
• * 1.36

  Ribadin. in vit. Athnasi.
• * 1.37

  Ierom. in Ioh.
• * 1.38

  Furiosum ge∣nus hominum. Aug. epist. ad Bonifac.
• * 1.39

  Bonavent. & Ribadin in vitâ Francisci.
• * 1.40

  John. 11.54.
• * 1.41

  Origen in ca∣taná Pat•…•…m in locum.
• * 1.42

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Clem. Alex. l. 4. Strom.
• * 1.43

  Clem. d. l.
• * 1.44

  Nazlan. orat. 3. adv. Iusian.
• * 1.45

  Alexander sir-named of Hales, a ham∣let near Sude∣ly Castle in Glocester shire The only lear∣ned writer my Country hath to boast of. Speed.
• * 1.46

  Origen. loc: dect.
• * 1.47

  Mat. 16.23. Mat. 26.50.
• * 1.48

  Ignat: Ep. al Rom. Luseb. l. 4. c. 15. Socrates. Scholastic. l. 4. c. 16. et 16.
• * 1.49

  Socrat. l. 3. c. 15.
• * 1.50

  Tertull I de suga in perse∣cut. De coro∣nd wilit c. 1. Thammerus 1. de suga.
• * 1.51

  Mat. 10.28.
• * 1.52

  Luk. 12.9.
• * 1.53

  Specialitèr adversus Ec∣clesiam texuit volumina de pudicitia, de persecutione, &c. ter. lib. de Ecclesiast. scriptor. Martyrium aded extolle∣ret, us ne fu∣gam, aliasi{que} latebras vel redemptionem vitae admitte∣ret. Baron. an Christi. 201. n. 9.
• * 1.54

  Cyprian. l. 2. Ep. 3.
• * 1.55

  Athan Apol. pro suga.
• * 1.56

  1. Kin. 18.13.
• * 1.57

  Quaresmius Tom. 2. elucid terrae sanctae. l. 4. c. 1. pere∣grin. 9. et. c. 22. peregr. 7.
• * 1.58

  Latibulum Pauli fuit an∣trum in plagâ meridionalt Damasci, Quares. t. d. l. 7. c. 1. per. 6.
• * 1.59

  Euseb. Ec∣cles. hist l. 4. c. 15. Ribad. to Vit. S. Aug. Ille in Vit. S. Basilij. Soz. hist. Ec∣cles l. 6. c. 2. & 3.
• * 1.60

  Non t•…•…ul∣til ut judices ferat c•…•…s qui essent mane∣festi hostes, Soz •…•… 8. c. 17.
• * 1.61

  Socrat Schol. l. 1 6 35 l. 2. c. 1, &c. Ri••ad in l••it Athan.
• * 1.62

  Thammerus de fug. l. 1. fol. 16.
• * 1.63

  Socrates. l 2 •…•… 19 ad 28 Niceph. l. 9. c. 9. Theod. biss. Eccles. l 2, c 7, 8. &c. Lib 1 d•…•…c. 25. ad 32. S•…•… l 1. c 35
• * 1.64

  Fugiant cum corum quisquam. specia∣••ter a per∣secutori••us queritur, &c. Aug Ep. 180. ad Honorat.
• * 1.65

  Mat. a. v. 13.
• * 1.66

  Act, 9 25.
• * 1.67

  Mat. 26. 691
• * 1.68

  Pet. Mart. Ep ad Lucens. Euseb. l. 14. c. 14.
• * 1.69

  Pet Mart Ep. 2. ad fra: Lu∣cens. p. 1104.
• * 1.70

  Athan. Apol. pro fugd.
• * 1.71

  Cypr. Ep. 9.
• * 1.72

  Theod. l, 1, & 2.
• * 1.73

  Sleid. Anno 1521.
• * 1.74

  Sleid: 1547.
• * 1.75

  Plat.
• * 1.76

  Atha••as •…•… ad orthedox: frat.
• * 1.77

  Baronius t. 1. annal.
• * 1.78

  Act. 8. 1.
• * 1.79

  Psal, 3. In the Cave, Ps. 57. In the Wildernesse, Ps. 63. His prayer in the Cave, Ps. 142. Euseb l. 3. c. 15.
• a 1.80

  Oblonga ci∣sterna in rupe montia excisa &c. Quares∣mius, tom. 2. elucid. terra sanctae. l. 4. c. 1. pereg 9.
• b 1.81

  Nauclerus vol. 2. Chro∣nol generat. 12. p. 608. Ribad in Vit. eypr.
• * 1.82

  Zo••. l. 8. c. 27. Ribab. in Vit. Chrysom.
• * 1.83

  Erasm in Vit. Origen Pet Mart. ad Lucens. Sleid. l. 3. an. 1521. extant tom. 1. & 2.
• * 1.84

  Sleid. k 20. an 1548.
• * 1.85

  Sleid l. 19. Wig de Jugd ministe.
• * 1.86

  Martial. E. pigr.
• * 1.87

  Nor. orat. 21.
• * 1.88

  Ps, 63. v. 6.
• * 1.89

  Math. 2.
• * 1.90

  Zor. l. d. Ribad. in vit.
• * 1.91

  Naucler. vol. 2. chronol. gen. 12.
• * 1.92

  Sleid. l. 20. an. 1548.
• * 1.93

  Fr. Hist.
• * 1.94

  Pet. Mart ep. adfr. Lucens.
• * 1.95

  Fran Hist.
• * 1.96

  Clem Alex. l. shrow. 4.
• * 1.97

  Melanston in presat ad town 2. Lutheri.
• * 1.98

  The Coun∣sell, 2. Allegori∣call.
• * 1.99

  Ier, Ep. ad He∣liodor.
• * 1.100

  Soen. 1.3.6.12.
• * 1.101

  Tertul. l. de patient.
• * 1.102

  Cul dew dig∣natur irasci Tert I.de.pat.
• * 1.103

  Totum secu∣lum pereat, modò patien∣tiam lucri •…•…a∣•…•…am, Text. de pat.
• * 1.104

  August.
• * 1.105

  Sleid. l. 7. an. 1330.
• * 1.106

  Argument, 1. from the Bre∣vity of our affliction.
• * 1.107

  Joh. 16. v. 18.
• * 1.108

  O modicum longum, pledomine, lon∣gum est & multum val∣de ninis, Bern. 74. Ser. in Cant.
• * 1.109

  Luther. in Psal. 2.
• * 1.110

  Chrysost in 5. Joh. Caten. part. gr.
• * 1.111

  Aug. Med.
• 2 1.112

  King. 17.5.
• * 1.113

  Jer. 4.21, 22.
• * 1.114

  Salv. l. 6. de gub. dei.
• * 1.115

  Kecher. Geo∣graph.
• * 1.116

  2. Cor. 4.17.
• * 1.117

  Bishop Fish∣er, in Hen. 8.