Miscellanea spiritualia: or, Devout essayes: the second part, composed by the honorable Walter Montagu Esq; Abbot of Nanteul, &c.

The seventh Treatise.

Of the purgation of Souls stained with Venial Sin. In five Sections.

SECT. I.

The Nature of Purgatorie; wherein great pains and pleasure are conjoin'd.

FRom the discourse of Venial Sin, the descent is so natural to the consideration of Purga∣torie, that my thoughts (which have hi∣therto declin'd all passages leading to∣wards any controverted devotion) cannot but yeild to this propension that carries them into the Survey of It: through which yet they shal pass, rather like travellers, then tryers of the ground; making only a narrative, not pleading the case. In order whereunto, I shall offer only a literal rela∣tion from the mouth of a most eminent Saint; whom God was pleased to conduct through this state of purgation in this life: which was a noble Lady of the family of Adorni, now

reverenc'd by the name of S. Katherine of Genoua. And I am perswaded, the discourse will so far move ev'n their Reason, to whose Faith it does not reach, that they will admit the opinion as rational, though not obligatorie: which shall therefore tempt me to venture the strength of it into both these dangers, the eminencie of the Italian Language, and the poorness of mine.

This holy soul, while she resided in the flesh, being cast into the Purgatorie of the flaming love of God, which refin'd her from all impuritie, that so passing out of this life, she might immediately be admitted to his presence (the sweet desired term of her love) by means of this amorous fire, she compre∣hended in what manner the souls departed in charitie remain in the local Purgatory, to be purg'd from all dross and stain of sin; whereof in this life they had not made an expurgation. And just as she being put into the amorous Purgatorie of the divine fire, remain'd united to his divine love, and content with all that was wrought in her; so she understood the state of souls in the common Purgatorie, and gave this account of their condition.

Souls that remain in Purgatorie, (as far as I can apprehend) can have no other election but to be in that place; and this, by the order and disposition of God, who has justly deter∣min'd it thus. Nor can they any more turn towards them∣selves, or discourse to this purpose; I have committed such sins, for which I deserve to be kept here; would to God I had not committed them, for then I should now go to Heaven: nor yet can they think such an one shall be delivered sooner then I, or I then he: they can have no remembrance of themselves or others, in point of good or evill, which may any wayes intend or remit their ordinary sufferance, but find so much contentment in their being conformable to Gods order, and that he should work what and however he pleases, that ev'n in their greatest pains, they cannot think on themselves. They only contemplate the operation of the Divine goodness; which acts with so much mercie to man, in order to the bringing him

to himself, that they can have no discernment of either suffe∣rance or ease, from whence may result proprietie, or self-regard: for if they could have such sentiments, they would not be in pure charitie.

They cannot ev'n discern that they endure these pains for their sins, nor retain any such impression in their minds, since it would imply some active imperfection which cannot consist with that place, wholly exempt from farther actual sinning. No, the cause of their Purgatorie they see, only once, as they pass out of this life, and never more; because it would import some self-consideration.

Remaining then in charitie, and incapable of being diverted by any actual defect, they can no longer wish or desire ought but the pure will of pure charitie; and being thus in that purg∣ing fire they are in the Divine appointment, which is pure cha∣ritie: nor can they in any point decline from it, being exclu∣ded from actual sin, as well as merit.

I verily believe, notwithstanding this state of suffering, there can be no contentment imagin'd comparable to that of a soul in Purgatorie, except that of the Saints in heaven: and this satisfaction increases daily, by the influence of God upon these souls; which augments by the same degrees that the im∣pediment of this influence wastes, and is consumed. The rust and dross of sin, is this interpos'd obstacle; which, as the fire works off and consumes, so the soul is the more discover'd and dispos'd to the divine infusion. Just as a thing that is cover'd cannot admit the splendor of the Sun; not by reason of the Suns incapacitie, which continually shines, but through the op∣position of the covering; whose interposition, as it is remov'd, proportionably the beams illustrate and clarifie the subject: so in this case, the rust, to wit, sin, is the covering of the soul; which in purgatory the fire consumes by degrees, and accor∣ding as it wears off, the soul is discover'd to the true Sun, God himself; and consequently the satisfaction improves, as much as the rust and dross is abated, being the more display'd to the Divine irradiation. And thus the one rises and the

other falls away, till the full time be accomplish'd.

Notwithstanding which, the intensness of the pain is not re∣mitted, but only its duration contracted. In the mean while, as to the will, they can never account their sufferings pains; so much are they pleased with the order of God, to which their will rests united in pure love and charitie. Yet, on the other side, they indure so extream a pain, as no tongue can express, nor imagination apprehend the least spark of it, unless God by a special favour should reveal it; as by an extraordinary grace he vouchsafed a little glimpse to my soul: but I am un∣able to infuse the light of it into others with my tongue, though this view which our Lord gave me, never since departed out of my mind. I'le impart to you what I can of it, and such will conceive it, whose understanding the Lord shall please to open.

SECT. II.

The reason of Purgatorie, and comparing the state of Hell with It.

THE foundation of all sufferings, is original or actual sin. God created the soul pure, simple and clear from all stain of such; with a certain beatifying instinct, turning to∣wards himself; from which instinct original sin (which in the womb she meets) removes her; whereto, when actual sin is added, the soul is more distanc'd; and the farther she departs, the more malignitie she contracts: wherefore God, less still corresponds with her.

Considering then, that all possible goodness has its nature, by participation from God; who confers it on irrational crea∣tures, as he has ordain'd in an equal and constant measure,

which never fails them; but on the rational, more or less, as he finds the passage unobstructed by sin. Hence it is that when a soul is drawing near to her first pure creation, in charitie and candor, the instinct and appetite of beatitude begins to raise and kindle it self; increasing still with such an impetuous ve∣hemencie of flaming love, which presses her to her final term that any impediment seems insupportable; and the nearer she approaches, and the more discovers, the more is the aggrava∣tion of her sufferance.

Now, because souls in Purgatorie are free from the culpable∣ness of sin, they have no interpos'd partition between God and them; except that pain which suspends the effect and perfe∣ction of the instinct and appetencie of beatitude. Wherefore discerning evidently of how great importance every little let and hindrance proves to them; and finding this instinct, by a necessary justice, with-held and retarded from accomplishment: hence arises an extream fire, ev'n like that of hell, excepting the guilt, which only renders the wills of the damned malignant; to whom God imparts none of his goodness; and there∣fore they remain in a desperate malicious wilfulness against the will of God.

Whence it is evident, that the perversness of the appetite op∣pos'd to the will of God, constitutes the crime; and the per∣tinacitie in the malicious will continues it: Wherefore that of the reprobate in hell, (who have pass'd out of this life with this malicious will) neither is, nor can be remitted; because they cannot change their will, being once dead, so dispos'd: in which passage the will is fix'd either to good or evil; which of them it was then determin'd; according to what is written, W••ere I shall find thee, (that is, at the hour of death, in what will, either of sinning or of being penitent for having sinn'd,) there will I judge thee: of which judgment there is never any repeal, by reason that after this life the libertie of free-will is no more pliable, but stands firm to that posture it was found in at the point of death. The damned therefore being found in that point with a will to sin, carry with them the guilt in an infinite

degree; and yet the punishment is not so much as they deserve, albeit what they have in point of duration is endless; but the souls in Purgatorie retain only the pain of their sin; the guilt having been remitted at the hour of their death, when they were taken in a state of sorrow and contrition, and grieving for their offences ag••inst the Divine goodness: wherefore their pain is finite and decreases continually in point of lastingness, as has been explain'd. (O miserie exceeding all other, and so much the more in that humane blindness, allows it not a due consi∣deration!) Neither is the pain of the damn'd infinite in point of quantitie, by reason that the infinite goodness of God sheds some drops of his compassion ev'n into hell: for man dying in mortall sin, deserves infinite pain, as well as everlasting time to suffer it. But the mercie of God has ordain'd the time only infinite, and the pain limitted in quantitie, for as much as he might justly have infl cted more then he has sentenced.

O how dangerous is sin committed with malice? because man hardly comes to repent it; and not cancelling it by re∣pentance, the crime remains perpetually, as long as the person persists in the liking of the sin committed, or the will of such a transgression. But the souls in Purgatorie have an entire con∣formitie of their will to that of God; by reason whereof his goodness corresponds with them, and they remain content (as to their will) and purifi'd from all crime; in which respect, those souls rest as pure as at the instant of their creation: for departing this life penitent and contrite, God immediately par∣dons the culpable part; and there sticks upon them only some dross or rust of their past offences, from which they are after cleans'd and purg'd by means of the pains of that fire; where being clear d from all crime, and united to God by their will, they see God clearly, according to that degree he discovers himself in that state. They perceive likewise how much the fruition of God is to be esteem'd: and souls created to that ••nd, feel such an impulse and sympathie of union with God, which attracts them so strongly to him by that natural corre∣spondence between the soul and God, that it is not possible to

give any reason, or imagine any figure or similitude sufficient to illustrate this matter, adequately to what the mind appre∣hends by an interiour sentiment: Nevertheless, I will exhibit one which offers it self to my imagination.

Suppose that in the whole world there were but one loaf of bread, which were to relieve the hunger of all the creatures; and that they were to be satisfi'd meerly by the sight of it. In this case, man (in health) having by nature an appetite to eat; if he could not feed, yet neither fal sick nor die, his appetite would never diminish: and knowing that loaf of bread alone could satisfie him; while he wanted it his hunger could never be eas'd, but would be kept in an intollerable pain; and the nearer he approach'd, without being able to see it, the more this natural appetite would be sharp'ned; which by a vehement instinct, is wholly intent upon that wherein consists all his satisfaction. Supposing him then assured never to get sight of this bread; in that instant he would feel a compleat hell, like the damned souls, which are depriv'd of all hope ever to see God, the true food of souls; but the souls in Purgatorie enjoy the hope of seeing this bread, and to be satiated with it; wherefore they suffer by this hunger, and endure this pain during the time on∣ly they are suspended from this divine refection, which is Jesus Christ, true Bread, true God, our Saviour, and our Love.

As a spirit clean and purifi'd, has no other center of rest but God, this being the end of its creation: so a soul stain'd and po∣luted with mortal sin, has no other term but Hell, God having appointed that for Its place; wherefore Judas is said to have gone into his own place; and so in the instant that every soul is sever'd from the body, it goes straight to its appointed one. And certainly a soul departing in mortal sin, (if it did not find in that point of time, this determination, proceeding from the justice of God) would remain in a greater hell then the other: as being out of that ordination which partakes somewhat of the compassion of God, since he inflicts not so much punishment as the soul deserves:) whereupon not finding a more conve∣nient place, nor of less misery, by the appointment of God,

the soul casts it self into Hell, as into Its proper place and center.

So, in the point of our Purgatorie; the soul separated from the body, not finding her self in that puritie and cleanness wherein she was created; but seeing in her self an impediment, and that removeable only by the means of Purgatory; quickly and willingly she throws her self in thither: and if she did not find that appointment apt to deliver her from this incumbrance, in that instant the soul would beget in her self a Hell much shar∣per then Purgatorie: for perceiving that she could not attain the desired end, by reason of that obstacle, the attainder of that desire is so much affected, that, in order to its consecution, the fire of Purgatorie seems not considerable; though (as I have said) it be in sharpness, like to that of hell; yet considering it as such a medicine, it seems nothing terrible.

I will add likewise, that I plainly see on Gods part, Heaven has no dores shut, but all who desire to enter may: because he is all mercie, and is turn'd towards us with open arms to wel∣come us into his glory. But I find, notwithstanding, the Di∣vine Essence to be of so high a puritie, and so much exceeding what can be imagin'd, that a soul (having but so much imper∣fection sticking to her, as ev'n the least atome comes to) would sooner cast her self into a thousand hells, then appear in the pre∣sence of that Divine Majestie, tainted with that blemish▪ wherefore finding Purgatory ordain'd to take out that stain, she flies into it; and conceives it a great mercie, as a means of clearing that obstruction.

The whole nature of Purgatorie, can neither be express'd by any tongue, nor comprehended by any understanding; but this I can discern, that its pains are no less then those of hell: notwithstanding which, I perceive the soul, spotted with the least defect, accounts it an indulgent grace, as I have said, not making ••in some respect) any reckoning of it, compared with the impedimental stain, which intercepts her fruitive love. And me thinks, I see the souls in Purgatorie more tormented, by finding in themselves any thing that displeases God, and for

having voluntarily contracted that indignitie, by offending such a Goodness; then by any other sufferance deriv'd from Purgatorie: the reason whereof is, that being in state of grace, they clearly discern the importance of that impediment, which suffers not their approach to God.

All whatever I have said in comparison of what my own spirit is certifi'd and possess'd of (as far as I have been able to comprehend in this life) is so short and weak; that all views, words, or sentiments, all imagination, all justice, all truth seem trifling, and nothing towards its expression; and I am out of countenance that I cannot find more precise words, and of higher indearment. For I see so conformable a sympathie and consonancie between God and the soul, that when God sees her tending to that puritie, wherein he created her, he touches her with a certain attractive kind of flaming love, sufficient to an∣nihilate her, notwithstanding her immortality; and transforms her so much into himself, that she discerns her self to be no other then God; who continually proceeds drawing and fire∣ing her, and never leaves till he has reduc'd her to that state and being, whence she first lapsed; that is, in the same puritie in which she was created.

SECT. III.

The manner of Gods operation upon Souls in this state.

VVHen the soul, by interiour light, sees her self thus drawn by God, with so much amorous ardor; through the heat of that flaming love of her so sweet Lord and God, which she feels superabound in her spirit, she (as it were) melts, and wholly dissolves her self. Then perceiving

by the Divine light, how God never ceases to draw and con∣duct her, tenderly towards her compleat perfection, with such continual care and providence; and this out of the sole mo∣tive of pure love, whilst she on the other side, by reason of this impediment of sin, finds her self not in a capacitie of following this attraction of His; that is, this uniting aspect which God casts upon her, in order to this conjunction; and perceiving besides how important this retardment is, which suspends her access to the divine splendour; together with her own instinct, which earnestly wishes the removal of that impediment, that she might vigorously follow that uniting aspect: I say, the sense and consideration of these things, is that which produces the principal pains, wherewith souls are afflicted in Purgatory; not that they are very sensible of the painful part (though it be very extream) but they resent much more the opposition they find in themselves to the will of God; which they plainly see kindled with an excessive and pure love to them. And this love, together with this unitive aspect, draws perpetually and so powerfully, as if it intended nothing else: insomuch that the soul is so vehemently affected with it, that if she could find another Purgatorie surpassing this, to clear so much the sooner this impediment, she would quickly cast her self into it, through the impetuositie of that so consonant and combining love between God and her.

Moreover, I perceive an emission from that Divine love of certain beams and fiery lightnings upon the soul; and those so piercing and active, that methinks they are sufficient not on∣ly to annihilate the body, but ev'n, if it were possible, the very soul. These irradiations have two effects, by the one they purifie, and by the other they annihilate: as gold, the more you melt it, the better it becomes; and so much it may be wrought and purged▪ that all imperfection will be voided and evacuated. This effect is wrought by fire upon materialities; but the soul cannot be annihilated in God, but well may it in it self: and the more it is purifi'd, the more it may be said to be extenuated and annihilated as to it self; remaining at last per∣fectly

purifi'd in God. And as gold, when it is refin'd to four and twentie caracts, can be no more wrought upon by any fire; because the imperfection only can be separated and extracted: so the Divine fire acts upon the soul, God holding her so long in it, till all imperfection be consum d, and she be brought, as I may say, to the state of four and twenty caracts, (supposing eve∣ry one in their proper degree of puritie.) And when she is thus clarifi'd, she remains all in God; who having brought her to himself in this ultimate puritie, she becomes thenceforth impas∣sible, because there is no matter left to work upon: whence, if in this pure state she were kept still in the fire, it would be no longer painful; but rather a fire of Divine love, and as it were, eternal life without any contrarietie.

I have explain'd how that infl••m'd instinct of reunion to God, connatural to the soul, finding an impediment against this conjunction, makes the souls Purgatorie. Now this last act of love does this work, without any contribution from the man, whose soul is cover'd with so much occult and secret im∣perfection, that if one in this life could discern them, he would go near to despair: but this his last state purges and consumes them all by degrees; and when they are consum'd, God gives the soul some discernment of them, to the end she may compre∣hend the Divine operation which raises in her the fire of love, dissolving and nullifying those impurities that are to be con∣sum'd.

And we must understand that those acts wherein man con∣ceives some perfection, are in the sight of God all defectuosi∣ties; as in all things which have some shew of perfection, to wit, mans sight, his feeling, hearing, his willing, or his me∣mory; in all these, when he acknowledges not their notions from God in all their acts, man contuminates him••elf: because to render these operations perfect, they ought to be wrought in us, without us, as to the being the principal agents; and the operations of God must be in the man, God, as the first Actor. Such are the effects which God produces in the last and highest operation of pure and clear love in this life, flowing simply

from himself, without any merit of ours: which actings of Gods Spirit are so penetrative and incendiarie to the soul, that the body incompassing it, seems to consume as in a sharp flame; nor can ever be eas'd till it be dissolv'd by death. True it is, that the love of God which over-flows in the soul (accord∣ing to my apprehension) affords it such a contentedness, as cannot be express'd: but as to the souls in Purgatorie, this con∣tentment abates not one spark of their pain; rather that love, by the sense of being suspended from fruition, heightens their sufferance, by the same degrees that the love whereof God has made them capable, is exalted in puritie.

So that the souls in Purgatorie feel a conjunction of great pain and pleasure, wherein neither of them deduct from the measure of the other. In which state could they purge and clear themselves by contrition, they would in an instant dis∣charge their whole debt; so high and intense a strain of It would they produce: and this by reason of their clear dis∣cerning the infinite prejudice of that impediment, which delays their conjunction with their end and consummation, God. And let this be receiv'd for truth that ev'n the least farthing is not forgiven those pure souls of what they owe; the Divine justice having so decreed it. Thus it stands on Gods part: as for the souls on the other side, they have no proprietie nor election, and can see nothing but simply the will of God; nor desire any other state then that of Gods ordination. If any alms are given them by those in this world, which abridges their time, they are not in state to be affected by it in any re∣spect, but under the notion of the ••ustice of the Divine plea∣sure; in all referring themselves to God, who satisfies himself as seems best to his infinite goodness. For if they could reflect upon these alms, separately from the Divine bountie, it would be a proprietie and self-will in them; which would intercept their sight of Gods will, and that would prove a hell to such souls: wherefore they remain immoveable in all that God ap∣points them, as well in their ease and contentment, as their pain and affliction; and can never turn their thoughts upon them∣selves,

so much are they inwarded and transform'd into the Di∣vine pleasure, being entirely resign'd to his most holy deter∣mination.

Insomuch, that if we could suppose a soul presented to the sight of God, having as yet never so little left to purge; this would prove a great injury to her, and become a greater suffe∣rance then ten Purgatories: because that pure goodness, and supreme Justice could not like such an object: wherefore it would be discorrespondent in respect of God; and the soul see∣ing him not fully satisfi'd, though there wanted but the twinck∣ling of an eyes time for her perfect purgation, would feel ev'n that, an intollerable condition; and to clear that little rust, would choose rather a thousand hells, then the standing be∣fore the Divine Presence with the least remnant of impu∣ritie.

Hence it was that this blessed Soul, discovering these things above treated in the Divine light, was wont to say,

I could wish I were able to crie so loud, as might terrifie all mankind that are upon earth, with this exclamation, O miserable man! why doest thou suffer thy self to be thus blinded by this world, and against so important a necessitie as that wherein thou wilt find thy self at the point of death, makest no provision? All of you shelter your selves under the hopes of Gods mercie, which you exalt and magnifie to co∣ver your improvidence; but you consider not that all that goodness will turn to your condemnation, for having presu∣med to contervene the will of so sweet and benign a God. Should not that goodness prevail with you towards the stri∣ving to comply with his intire will, in stead of imboldning you to transgress it, by this undue presumption? because his Justice likewise must have its due perfection; and conse∣quently, must some wayes be adequately satisfi'd. Presume not therefore upon these kind of words, I will confess before I dye, and so gain a plenary indulgence; by which means I shall instantly be discharged of all my sins, and assure my salvation: for, think well, and you will find, such a Confession and Con∣trition,

as is requisite for the gaining of this plenarie Indul∣gence is so hard to be obtain'd, that upon examination, you will rather tremble, then be confident; and conclude it much more likely to be disappointed, then to obtain this Indulgence.

I see the souls in Purgatorie remaining in the discernment of these two operations. The first is, they indure willingly their pains; it seeming to them that they see clearly God has us'd them with great mercie, considering what they have de∣serv'd: and being fully possess'd of the infinite dignitie and excellence of God, they confess that if his goodness did not temper his justice with mercie, (satisfying the first by the most pretious blood of Christ Jesus) ev'n one single sin would not be over-punish'd with a thousand perpetual hells; in contem∣plation whereof they suffer these pains so unrepugnantly, that they would not abate themselves one grain or scruple of them, acknowledging how justly they are impos'd and ordain'd by the Divine sentence. So that in respect of their will, they complain no more of God, then if they were already in eternal beatitude.

The other operation is, a contentedness which they feel, be∣holding the order of God, working with so much love and commiseration in his designs upon souls. And these two ope∣rations God imprints in one instant in those souls, who (being in the state of grace) apprehend and possess them truly to the best degree of their present capacitie; whence they derive much sati faction, which does not intermit, but rather increa∣ses as they approach nearer God. They see nothing as in themselves, but all as in God, to whose pleasure they are more attentive, then to their own pains; and consider not them, com∣pared with the other; because the least fight can be had of God, surpasses all sorrow or delight which can be conceived by man; notwithstanding which superexcellence, yet it alters not in these souls the least grain, either of their contentment or sufferance.

SECT. IV.

A Declaration of what pass'd in the soul of S. Katharine of Genoua; conformable to this state of Purgatorie.

THE same manner of purgation which I discern of the souls in Purgatorie, I find in my own soul; especially, these two last years past, and every day I advance into a clearer perception of it. I perceive my soul seated in this body, as in a state of Purgation, suitable and correspondent to the local Purgatorie: still in that degree which the body may indure without dissolving; and yet by little and little still augment∣ing, till the term comes of death and dissolution. I find my spirit alienated from all things (even spiritual ones) which might minister any nourishment; such as is any chearfulness, delight, or consolation; and it has no capacitie of savoring any thing whatever, temporal or spiritual, either by my will, my understanding, or memory; in such sort, as to be able to say, I am better pleas'd with one thing then with another.

My interior is besieg'd in such a manner that all things what ever offer'd any refreshment, either to the spiritual or corporal life, have been by little and little substracted from it; and since this sequestration, my spirit perceives that all such matters were food and refection for it: but being discern'd by it, to be of a consolatorie nature, they are all so much disliked and underva∣lu'd, that they are vanish'd without ever returning: the reason is because the spirit is mov'd by a forcible instinct, to discharge it self of all impediments of perfection; to such a degree of self-rigor that it would almost consent to be put ev'n in hell, to attain its intention: wherefore it works earnestly in the sepa∣rating of all such matter, wherewith the inward man may feed

it self; and besieges it so subtilly, and so vigilantly, that the least mote of imperfection cannot pass into it without being discover'd and rejected.

And as for the exterior part, because the spirit in no sort corresponds with it, that likewise remains so straightned and besieged, that it can find nothing upon earth wherewith to so∣lace it self suitable to its humane instinct and appetite. No other comfort is admittable, but God; who operates all this by his love, moved by his Mercie thus to satisfie his Justice. And this consideration imparts much peace and acquiescence, which nevertheless deducts nothing from the pain and pressure; nor could my soul indure so much as could move a wish of stirring never so little out of the divine ordination. She neither can get out of Prison, nor so far as to desire enlargment, till God hath wrought all that is requisite for her due purification: My only contentment being that God may be satisfi'd; nor can I conceive any greater torment then the least digression from the divine appointment, so just and so compassionating I apprehend it.

All these things which I have discours'd, I discern; and me∣thinks, touch them, as it were; but cannot find words com∣petent to express what I would deliver: that which I have ut∣tered I find wrought spiritually in my self, and therefore I have declar'd it. The Prison wherein I conceive my self, is this World, the Band seems to be my Body, and my Spirit, enlight∣ned by grace, is that which is sensible of the importance of being restrain'd or retarded by any impediment from the con∣secution of its end and perfection; and this inflicts great tor∣ture on the soul, by reason of the sharpness and subtiltie of this appetite of union with God: whose ardencie is rais'd by those steps she advances towards him; and consequently the pain is measur'd by the degrees of estimation she conceives of this di∣vine conjunction. The more the soul is purg'd the clearer she lookes towards God, and the impediments seem the more ter∣rible and afflicting; chiefly by reason that (remaining wholly apply'd and intent upon God, having no impedimental

passion) she judges without any errour or seducement.

The compatibilitie of these two sentiments of pain and peacefulness in the soul may be illustrated, in this manner. As a man, who suffers himself rather to be kill'd then offend God, is sensible of dying and feels the pain of it; but the Divine grace kindles a zeal in him; which makes him value the honor of God more, then he apprehends corporal death: so the soul contemplating the order of God, considers more that will and appointment, then all the interior or exterior sufferances, how grievous soever they can be rendred; and this because God, by whom this work is wrought, excells all things that can be felt or apprehended. So that the participation which God af∣fords the soul of himself (how little soever) holds her so im∣ploy'd and immers'd in that Divine Majestie, that she can make no account of any other object whatsoever: therefore she de∣vests all proprietie, and neither sees nor understands any pain or dammage singly referr'd to her self; all which (as hath been clearly exhibited in the former discourse) is discern'd by the soul in that instant, only when she passes out of this life. Finally, for the conclusion of all, it must be understood that Almightie God separates and annihilates all that is left of the man, and Purgatory works this refinement and purifica∣tion.

SECT. V.

The Authors Conclusion upon this Dis∣course.

THus have I shew'd the inside of Purgatorie to those who (perhaps) have hitherto seen the exterior figure only; and that design'd by such as accounting it a Chymera, have drawn

it like one, with antique and extravagant lineaments: doing, as if the Priests of the ••eathen should have expos'd only the outside of the statue of Silenus, which being in form of a Sa∣tyre, was likelier to provoke contempt, then expectation of any thing within it to be reverenc'd; whereas being opened, it con∣tain'd an Altar decently adorn'd with many things accounted sacred in their religion. The maligners of this doctrine of Purgatorie, have methinks, us'd a worse kind of indirectness in their exposure of it; by shewing only the exterior disfigur'd and colour'd over with fantastick and ridiculous suppositions; setting Indulgences about it, in wry and distorted positions, crookeded by venalitie and corruption. Such a deform'd picture they set forth of Purgatorie, as is drawn very often more by their aversion, then their apprehension; their own judgments not being so dark as their disaffections: But now I hope upon this insight I have given of the interior of this doctrine, I may flatter my self, that ev'n those who acknowledge not any thing sacred or religious in the substance of this point, cannot yet reproach any part of it as extravagant or unreasonable.

And this occasion remembers me of what pass'd with a per∣son of our Nation (of a sharp and ingenuous spirit) concern∣ing his sense of Catholick Religion; after he had been abroad awhile, and only seen some exterior practises of it, viz. such as pass through the streets in Processions; where Reliques and Images are sometimes carried in manners apt enough to scandalize strangers and undisciplin'd persons in the intention of the Church. Upon which misunderstanding, he was wont to slight and deride much her Ceremonies. In answer to some of his reproaches, he was ask'd one day by a Priest, if he (who seem∣ed so malevolent to the Ceremonies of Catholique Religion) had ever been in the Churches, and seen the celebration of our highest misteries, and the performance of our Divine Services? he reply'd that he had already seen too much, since his liberties concerning it were already offensive: but (sayes he) if you will allow me the freedom of speaking out all I think, after this farther insight into your Church, I will goe with you to any

solemn exercise of your Religion you shall desire. This con∣dition was agreed by the Priest; who carry'd him to see high Mass said on some great Holiday, where the Gentleman be∣hav'd himself with much modestie and attention to all that pass'd. And after his survey of the Church, with the order and observances practised; when he came back, being call'd upon to deliver his opinion of what he had seen; he answer'd, There is a great difference between your Church and your Street Religion; I confess 'tis great pittie this is not the true one, the order, decen∣cie and majestie of your worship, savours so much, and becomes so well the direction to the greatness and majestie of the true God. To which the Priest reply'd, since you are better satisfi'd with the first step you have made within dores; let me propose to you a farther visit into the inside of our Church, (as I may well call the doctrinal and credential part of our faith:) the soundness and reasonableness whereof, will surely give your understanding a more proportionable satisfaction, then your eyes have recei∣ved in the difference you have acknowledg'd between our Church and our Streets. Whereupon not long after, this per∣son, by the same steps as he advanc'd into the interior part of our doctrine lodged his understanding wherever it came; and never receeded one step back, but remain'd firmly seated at length in the Catholick Church.

And truly, methinks, these three different views of Catho∣lique Religion by an adversary, may be resembled to these three manners of seeing the Author of it, Christ Jesus. The first is such a kind of sight, as if one, who had heard Christ much de∣fam'd for a Seducer of mean people, should have met with him afterward in the street, follow d only by fisher men, Publicans, and notorious sinners; considering which appearance, the un∣dervaluing of him were not to be wondred at. The second is as if the same person should afterward have been perswaded to follow him into some house in which he convers'd with his fol∣lowers: where reflecting upon the aminableness of his person, the sweetne••s of his behaviour, the meekness of his speech, the decencie of all his motions, the gravitie and order of all his

actions; these exterior attractives would probably reconcile an ingenuous mind so far to him, as to suggest a desire of being clearly inform'd of his proposals and motives to the people. The third manner is, as if he should have pursued his informati∣on by following Christ till he heard him preach his doctrine, and saw him confirm it by divers miracles: whereupon, in all apparence, he would have remain'd Christs Disciple.

Thus those who have heard Catholique Religion much tra∣duc'd in point of the worship of Images and honouring of Re∣liques, meeting a Procession in the streets, where the figures and reliques of Saints are expos'd with much respect and reverence, cannot at first be wondred at for believing this calumnie veri∣fi'd; no more then a zealous Jew for crediting the Pharisaical aspersions, upon the first sight of Christ, apparently answerable to their accusations. Whilst those (who are mov'd but to visit the Catholique Church, with reverence and consideration of the exteriour religious offices corresponding to the familiaritie with Christ Jesus his outward and humane carriages and acts) will easilie be so far disprejudic'd in point of the doctrine, as to seek the acquainting their understandings with the grounds and rea∣sons of this Religion; which answers to the hearing of Christ preach the conformitie of his moral precepts to right reason, and seeing him confirm his supernatural verities by divine Power. And in this method of surveying Catholique Religion, that is, by studiously examining the articles of Faith, there ap∣pears so much consonancie with reason in all the practical part, and so great force of continued authoritie, constantly succeed∣ing from Christs own mouth (which is no less convincing then a visible miracle) as in all likelihood will compose a body of motives necessarily prevalent, upon an ingenuous under∣standing.

I may therefore after this long passage through this fire of love, modestly presume that it has warm'd the affections of such, to whose understanding it may perhaps not have given sufficient light. So that it is not unlikely, many may say with the Gentleman I mention'd, that our written differs much from

our talk'd on Purgatorie; and that surely if this Theory be not true, 'tis great pitie it is not; since this exquisite refinement of souls seems to be reasonable, before their admittance into the incomprehensible puritie of God; and to have this purifi∣cation wrought by love is such a means, as all generous hearts, would wish. For how many are there, that would prefer grie∣vous suffering, consorted with great loving, before the being stupidly unaffected with either passion? Wherefore this cha∣racter of Purgatorie will probably affect most of those fair in∣genuous souls, to which I design it.

Before I shut up the dore of Purgatorie, I will affix this advice upon it, which may afford a plenarie Indulgence to both parties. To those who believe the doctrine, I will pro∣pose the living, as if they believ'd it not; apprehending every voluntary venial sin, as if it were the fewel of the eternal fire, fomented by hatred, not by love. And to such as dis-believe it, I would urge the living as if they did apprehend such a state of transitorie punishment, appointed for all those frailties and faultinesses which they own in their lives; not relying upon their single faith for the removing of those mountains of straw and stubble, which our daily imperfections do accumu∣late; but to be as punctual and precise in the taking off every single straw, that may incumber their conscience, as if it were to sink them below Purgatorie. And by this care, the first may happily, by Gods mercie, escape it: the last, by the same mercie, pass through it. The rectitude of their af∣fections to God, having mov'd his goodness to rectifie their faith.

To which purpose, I will conclude with this Prayer, for all such whose conceived light is true darkness, That they may have the grace to embrace the belief of Purgatorie in this life, and escape the experience of it in the next: really passing as immediately to heaven, by the apprehension of It as they vainly promise themselves, in their dis-belief and incon∣sideration of it.

Let, therefore, the result of this Discourse, to all Auditors, be the raising a most vigilant attention to this remonstrance of S. Peter, that God hath given us exceeding great and preti∣ous promises; that by these you may be partakers of the divine Nature; having escap'd the corruption that is in the World. Wherefore the rather brethren give diligence to make your cal∣ling and election sure; for if you do these things, you shall never fall: but so an entrance shall be ministred to you abundantly, into the everlasting Kingdome of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

Notes

• 2 Pet. 1 4 to the 10.