Meditations collected and ordered for the vse of the English colledge of Lisbo by the svperiovrs of the same colledge.

THE FIRST CHAPTER. Of mans basenes or annihilation.

ALL men desire finally to see and know God, but many faile and come short, because they begin at the wrong end, and striue to fly, before they can goe: the right path is, to begin with a true and cleare view of ourselues, and with an im∣partiall and settled iudgement of our owne being and ability. These beginne to be read on the 9. of sept? at night.

THE FIRST MEDITATION. VVhat man is according to his body.

1 COnsider first, these words of the Scriptu∣re Formauit Deus hominem de limo ter∣ra; God formed man of the slyme of the earth. The earth is the lowest and basest of

Elements, euer trodden and trampled with the feet of men and beasts; but mud, slime, or clay is so low and foule, as both men and beasts flie and auoyde it, knowing how euery light touch thereof defileth: yet of this earth, of this clay, how foule, how slimy soeuer, are formed and framed the tallest, the stoutest, and most beautifull bodies of the greatest Monarchs, and Ladies of the world: nay durt and clay are more noble, then such bodies, if antiquity be a signe of nobility: Vt quid superbis puluis & cinis? vt quid superbis? vvhy art thou proud thou dust and ashes: vvhy art thou proud? be ashamed, seing all the world knoweth thy beginning, be as ha∣med I say, to carry thy selfe so bigge, so splen∣didous, as if no lesse then gold and precious sto∣nes were the ingredients of thy being: paint it ouer as much as thou pleasest, it is but earth, but durt and slime: vnlesse thou will perhaps say; tis true, Adam was no better, being framed of the clay of the earth; but I not soe, being begot∣ten of another fashion, and complexion: poore gallant, deceiue not thy selfe; for the manner of thy begetting is so foule that the name, nay the lightest thought of it, defileth the purest minde, so that our B. Sauiour refused none of our mi∣series, but onely that; and the matter so horrid, so foule, that all other dung is pleasant and gratefull in respect of it; nay we dare not in discourse giue it a name, for our owne shame & others offence.

Conclude hence with thy selfe neuer to boast

nor grow proud of thy strength, comelinesse & beauty, nor of thy ancient stock and nobility, since the ground worke of all is euer clay and durt, or if thou wilt needs striue further, thou wilt find for the fountaine-head iust nothing, Nam ex nihilo omnia: for all are out of nothing. Hence beginne a true knowledge of thy selfe.

2. Consider secondly, what mans body is in the wombe, in the cradle, and in the rest of its life: I cannot imagine any prison so darke, so straight, so loathsome, as the wombe of a wo∣man, in Which the child is inclosed, & enwrap∣ped in most foule, bloudy and matterous skin∣nes or membranes, for no lesse, then nine whole moneths; so straighned & pressed, that neither hand nor foot can he stirre or moue: his food, the filthy menstruous bloud of his mo∣ther, a thing so nasty, and poisonous, as that what soeuer it toucheth, it infecteth, like the plague or lepry; such is his house, such his diet. Now at his birth, ô how miserable, how poore, how naked? couered onely with a thin but most foule and bloudy net; out of which being vn∣cased, the first thing must be done, is to wash it, ere it can be well touched or viewed: and then so weake and seeble, that it can neither moue, not helpe it selfe; all that it can doe, is to cry and bewayle the generall miserie of man kind; and in this estate, accompanied with a thousand more miseries, and dangers, it passeth its cradle & infancie. Being growne vp to mans estate, I will grant it thee, let it be the strongest,

fairest, and best tempered body, thou wilt or canst imagine (which yet is granted to verie few) thou shalt find it but a painted wall, or a sepulcher pargetted with chalke, white without, but within more stinking, then any dunghill, more foule, then any puddle; witnes the filth, that continually flowes from all its conduits & pores, witnes the sweetest meats, no sooner, eaten, then turned to the loathsomest froth or ordure in the world &c.

Conclude as formerly a true iudgement of what thou art, and imprint it so in thy mind, that it may euer check all rising fancies to the contrary.

3. Consider thirdly the condition of mans body after death; the soule being once departed, behold how pale, how starke, how griesely the body remaineth, how gallant and faire soeuer it formerly had beene; a man can hardly see or touch it without a certaine horrour of mind: no sooner stiffe and cold but presently it beginnes to corrupt & smell, hence is that great hast and bustling of its dearest friends and kindred, to heaue it soone out of doore, and lay it low vn∣der ground, for feare of infecting the aire, and causing pestilence; whereas a dunghill may lie for weekes behind the doore without offence, and in the streets a dead dog or cat without much annoyance. Consider now the graue, its second wombe; some what larger, I confesse, then the former, but in other respects I see no great choice; as darke, as foule, as that, besides

swarmes of wormes & maggots for our restles bedfellowes: ô were it but opened after some twenty dayes, what a sight, what a sent should we haue; let him, that can, expresse it. It is sayd that a certaine Tyrant tyed dead bodies to the quicke for a torment': surely he was Master in that blacke art, for the embracements of snakes, and the kisses of toades are farre more tolerable, then those of mans carcasse halfe corrupted.

Conclude, neither to esteeme, nor pamper thy body, sincé it is all at last but foôd for wor∣mes: remember allwayes the words of our ho∣ly mother the Church; Memento homo quod puluis es, & in puluerem reuerteris: Remember ô man, that thou art dust, & into dust thou shalt returne. If dust be my beginning, and dust my end, what doe I deceiue my selfe or others, as though I carried about mee some rich cabi∣net of pearles, or pretious stones? when being opened, I am found so stinking a puddle.

THE SECOND MEDITATION. VVhat man is according to his soule.

1. COnsider first, how that, if thy body were originally clay and durt, thy soule, be∣fore God created it, was iust nothing, that is, a pure priuation of all being, and of all those things which accompany a being: ô who can describe vnto mee, what or where this no∣thing is? It is neither in heauen, hell, nor earth,

nor in any of the vnknowne worlds; it differs more from the least sand, the least moat in the sunne, then the heauens vast orbes from an em∣mot, then the infinity of God from the least of his creatures, for here at least we find something to ground a comparison; but nothing? good Lord what can be made of it, but iust nothing? vnlesse thy omnipotent hand descend power∣fully into its abysse, and draw thence this my soule into a noble, spirituall, and intellectuall substance, little lesse then the Angelicall, nay representing thy owne immense Essence? but couldest thou merit or procure this thy being from his hand? ô nothing lesse, for nothing can say and doe nothing: it was his gratious bounty and liberality, that freely bestowed this being vpon thee, otherwise thou wouldest haue re∣mained for all eternitie as thou wast, nothing; nay should God but for one minute withdraw from thee his conseruing hand, in that very same instant wouldest thou fade away into thy owne habitation of nothing: bragge hence for∣ward vaine man of nothing, but thy owne, that is, of thy nothing in being, & againe vanishing into nothing.

Conclude and say with the Apostle, Quid ha∣bes, quod non accepisti, si autem acceperis, quid gloriaris? VVat hast thou, that thou hast not receiued? and if thou hast receiued, vvhat doest thou glorie, and vpon this bottemlesse ground of thy nothing lay the pure foundation of thy spirituall building; for all besides is not thy

owne, but giuen, but lent by thy Maker.

2. Consider secondly how true that sentence of the Wiseman is; Corpus, quod corrumpitur, aggrauat animam, & terrena inhabitatio depri∣mit sensum multa cogitantem: the bodie, that is corrupted burdeneth the soule, & the earthlie ha∣bitation presseth dovvne the vnderstanding, that thinketh many things. And marke how many wayes this is true; first, at her first vnion with the body shee is defiled & spotted with originall sin∣ne, & so subiect to all the miseries both tēporall, & eternall, which spring from that source: then for the first eight or nine yeares, in what, J pray, doth the soule of a child differ from that of a beast, in any exteriour action or discourse? Af∣ther that pretious iewell obtained, the vse of reason; who is able to recount the darknes, ig∣norance and errours of our vnderstanding? the backwardnes of our will to good, & pronenesse to ill? the distractions and failings of the memo∣rie? the tempestuous stormes & conflicts of the inferiour powers, both irascible and concupis∣cible? and the poore soule, like a boat betwixt two waues, tossed and beaten from the one to the other, from loue to hatred, from hope to feare, from ioy to griefe, from anger to pusilla∣nimitie &c. hardly settled or quiet for a mo∣ment; and these waues of passions bring her at last, not to know what shee would haue; this euery one will feele in him selfe, more or lesse, if he will sincerely examîne and ponder his in∣ward dispositions and daylie inclinations, hither and thither.

Conclude and frame a true conceit of the state and condition of thy poore soule, dwelling in the midst of so much ignorance, and amongst so many passions all violently drawing the contra∣ry way: then humble thy selfe before the diuine maiesty, and begge of him, Vt imperet fluctibus, & mari & fiat tranquillitas magna; that he vvould command the vvaues and the sea, and that there might ensue a great calme. That the poore passenger our soule, perish not at last in soe terrible and neuer-ceasing stormes.

3. Consider thirdly the miserable condition of a soule, ouer which the beastly lust of the sen∣suall part hath once gotten the dominion; how she is led in fetters from sinne to sinne, from lust to lust, contrary to her owne actuall reason and iudgement; nay often with a certaine abhorring and griefe, to doe what shee is compelled vnto, to goe whether shee is dragged by her slauish, but now all-mastering appetites: so that there is verified, what S. Paul sayth; non quod volo bo∣num, hoc ago, sed quod odi malum, illud facio. Not the good vvhich J vvill, the same doe I, but the ill vvhich I hate, that I doe. O most deplorable con∣dition! haue you seene or heard of a Lady, noble, beauteous, rich, heire apparent to her fathers kingdome, deliuered ouer to a slauish varlet, to be commanded, domineered & crossed in euery thing, nay bound and dragged by her slaue, to vvhat shee most abhorreth and hateth? truely I haue neuer heard of the like case: and yet so it passeth with a poore soule, once giuen ouer to

her passions, a noble spirit, faire as the Angells, marked with the character of God, heire to the kingdome of heauen, subiected to a base, car∣nall, and hellish slauery. O quis me liberabit de carcere corporis huius? O vvho shal deliuer me from the prison of this bodie. This is the condi∣tion of our soule, comming into this house of clay; and this is her liuing in it: but vvhen she must goe forth againe, vvhat thinke you then? vvhat griefe, to be plucked from her old com∣panion the body, and together from all her old acquaintance and commodities of this vvorld? and vvhat a strangenesse, to vvander into an vn∣knowne, an vnheard of Region? but vvhat a horrour to be presented to the iudgement seat? vvhat trembling at so heauy an accusation of all her life? and vvhat anguish in expecting, vvhat the doome and sentence vvill be? if at length it come of eternall damnation, vvhat then, sad vvretch? vvhat then, poore caytife?

Conclude to looke about, vvhile time serues, and first to regaine the dominion ouer our pas∣sions; next vvith humble feare to secure our sal∣uation: for vvhat greater folly, then not to pro∣uide for a certaine danger?

4. Consider fourthly, or rather conclude out of the former considerations, both of thy body and soule, both their beginning & ending; con∣clude I say, and settle vvith thy selfe, once for all, a true, sincere, and cleare knowledge of thy selfe: for rest most assured, that this knowledge is the onely ground and foundation of a ver∣tuous

life; the readiest vvay to know God, and the most efficacious meanes to loue him; and the vvant of it, the high vvay to all perdition: settle therefore first vvith thy selfe this iudge∣ment; that by thy body side thou art originally clay, then a painted masse or muck hill, lastly a companion and food of vvormes; and by thy soules side, first iust nothing, priuatio entis; a priuation of being. Next defiled vvith sinne; and subiect to most slauish passions; lastly God knowes, vvhat her lot and destinie vvill bé. Hauing thus humbly, yet truely iudged of thy selfe; next, desire or at least suffer all others to thinke & iudge the same of thee: for it vvere great folly, nay hypocrisie, to desire all men, to thinke and speake as vvee doe in other matters, and in this onely to bee of a different opinion, both of vvhat vvee are, and vvhat vve esteeme our selues: doe therefore this, and thou hast gotten true humility; that is, a true knowledge of thy owne basenes, and a de∣sire, that all others should, know and vote thee for such: & so art thou armed to double proofe; first against all invvard rebellion of pride, vaine glorie and selfe conceit, vvith a, Quid ha∣bes quod non accepisti; vvhat hast thou that thou hast not receiued? Next, against all out∣ward assaults, both of flatterie and contempt; for neither can others contempt depresse thee below vvhat thou art, nor their praise and flat∣terie raise thee, to vvhat thou art not. And this humilitie is the more solid, because common

to all creatures, being grounded not on sinne, or other casuall imperfections; but vpon the pure and simple nothing of ourselues, and the all things, vve haue from God: this therefore humility, the Saints, the Angells, the Virgin Mary, nay our B. Sauiour according to his hu∣manity, had in most high degree: and there∣fore let vs neuer bee ashamed to imbrace it, and really to practice it?

THE THIRD MEDITATION. Of the miseries of mans life.

1. COnsider first both the shortnes and vn∣certainety of mans life: make the lon∣gest a hundred yeares (and yet not one in a hundred thousand doth attaine thither) vvhat is that compared to Eternitie? not so much as a moment, or the twinkling of an eye; looke backe on vvhat is passed, and thou vvilt scarce find a dreame, a shadow: but stay; out of these hundred yeares, vve must yet cut of a large share, first the time of childhood, vvherein it cannot bee sayd, vvee liue like men: then the time of sleepe, a full third part vvith most men, of the sayd hundred; next vve may vvell cut of the latter part of old age also, vvhich is not vita, life; but labor labour, and dolor, griefe; and senex an old man: you know is bis puer: vvice at child: J dare not discount all the time vvhich is comonly lost or ill spent, least J

should leaue nothing, and yet it may very vvell bee done. The Wise man compareth it to a sha∣dow, to a post riding by, to a ship vnder full saile, to a bird vpon the vving, to an arrow from the bow; Sic & nos nati continuò desiuimus esse. Soe vve alsoe being born, forthvvith cea∣sed to be. Yet vvere this shortest moment of life but sure and certaine, some small comfort might be fancied: but alás! nothing in the vvorld stands so ticklish and vncertaine; daylie chances teach vs sufficiently, vvhat ground vvee stand vpon: Neque diem neque horam scimus. Neither the day nor the hour doe vve knovv.

Conclude therefore to play both a good Mer∣chant. and a good souldier: a good merchant in prouiding rather for Eternitie, then for this present moment: a good souldier, in keeping a vigilant sentinell vpon this our Castle, least the enemie assayle vs, as commonly he doth, vna∣vvares, or a sleep: ô take heed, for on this mo∣ment depends Eternitie.

2. Consider secondly the frailtie of our life, noe glasse more brickle, no flovver sooner bla∣sted: a cold, a vvind, a vvarme Sunne, the pricke of a pin, the bite of a vvorme, a great griefe, nay the excesse of a sudden ioy are suffi∣cient to take avvay the breath and life of the strongest man in the vvorld: hovv oft doe vvee heare this and that man suddenly fallen dead? or going healthy and sound to bed, found in the morning vvithout life or motion? and yet noe skill of Physitians can tell hovv, nor vvhy? Hovv

vvell did the Prophet cry out? Omnis caro foe∣num, & omnis gloria eius, sicut flos campi; All flesh is grasse, and all the glorie therof as the flovver of the fielde. Faire and beautifull to be∣hold, but blasted and vvithered vvith the least puffe of vvinde.

Conclude from hence the desperate folly of most men, that vvake and sleep soe confidently in mortall sinne, hauing noe more betwixt them & hell then the slender thread of a life so fraile; farre madder certainely, then hee that should hang by a haire ouer a sulphurous fire-pit, and yet not endeauour to free himselfe thence: mad∣der I say, because the fall into hell hath noe re∣turne. Walke therefore alwayes in the feare & grace of God, that when soeuer this thread shall breake, his holy hand may sustaine & support our poore soules from soe hideous a precipice & downefall into the eternal dungeon of hell.

3. Consider thirdly how full of miseries, disasters & calamities is this our life, how short soeuer; from the cradle to the graue, what doe wee euery where behold, but obiects of miserie? what doe wee heare, but either wranglings and complaints one of an other? or the groanings of euery one vnder his owne burden? no man con∣tent with his owne estate, but all in perpetual motion to seeke rest & content, where it is not to be found. Let vs see and heare S. Aug. in the 20. chap. of his Meditations: how can we call this a life, in which we liue? which humours so alter, griefes weaken, heates drie vp, the aire in∣fects,

meates oppresse, fasting quaileth, sports dissolue, sadnes consumeth, cares rend asunder, quiet security destroyeth, riches puffe vp, po∣uerty abateth; youth lifts on high, old age boweth downe, infirmity breaketh: and after all this, what succeeds, but furious death, the full point and period of all her delights? so that fitly may it be tearmed, a liuing death, or a dying life. And yet, good God? how doe men passe by all this? with what little feeling doe they drinke vp these bitter potions? nay like spiders disem∣bowell them selues to weaue a thinne net to catch flyes.

Conclude with thy selfe, to seeke thy content and happines, not in this life, so miserable, so fraile, so short; but in the eternall life, where neither force, nor chance, nor durance of time can bereaue vs of it: and so let all our cares and toyles here be directed to the blisse, and happi∣nes, that there wee hope for.

THE FOVRTH MEDITATION. VVhat man is according to his morall, or spirituall Being.

1. COnsider first, that if man be nothing of himselfe, but all from God according to his naturall being; truely it is farre more euident, that his spirituall and supernatu∣rall Being is from God alone, after a more spe∣ciall and immediate manner: all grace, all ver∣tues,

all gifts supernaturall are so purely & freely from the liberall hand of God, so independent from any merit or desert of nature, that not all the wisdome of Philosophers, strength of Giants, power of Kings and Emperours, not whatsoeuer art or force the whole world can apply, are able to merit, or fetch downe from heauen the least graine or degree of grace, faith, hope, charitie or any other super∣naturall vertue; so that euery one must say with S. Paul, Gratia Dei sum id, quod sum. By the gra∣ce of God I am that vvhich I am. Nay, which may more humble vs, beggers can cry & begge for an almes, but poore man can neither begge nor cry, no neither wish nor desire the least su∣pernaturall grace or vertue, vnlesse God of his owne pure goodnes, doe first, moue, stirre, and helpe him to doe it: Non sumus, quoth S. Paul, sufficientes cognitare aliquid ex nobis; tanquam ex nobis; sed Deus est, qui operatur in nobis & velle & perficere pro bona voluntate. VVe are not suf∣ficient to thinke any thing of our selues, as of our selues, but it is god that vvorketh in vs both to vvill, & to accomplish according to his good vvill.

Conclude and settle in thy soule a full perswa∣sion, that all thy good is from God, both in the desire, in the obtaining, and in the conseruing thereof; acknowledge thy continuall depen∣dance of him, and thanke him for all gifts be∣stowed on thee.

2. Consider secondly, how according to S.

Augustine wee are, not onely, what wee are, by the grace and gift of God, but also what wee are not; that is to say, all the ills wee want, all the sinnes wee haue escaped, is from no strength or worth of ours, but from the sole gracious prote∣ction of God; for as the same S: August. most truely sayeth, there is no sinne so great, no cri∣me so horrid, that any one man hath commit∣ted, but any other man whatsoeuer may as easely perpetrate and commit the same, or greater, if God with-draw his all-succouring hand from him, and leaue him in puris naturalibus vvi∣thout grace, to him selfe. This at first sight may seeme strange; yet most true, if we consider, how all men are framed of the same clay, all equally spotted with originall sinne, and conse∣quently equally subiect to the like infirmities; this thou shalt perceiue, if thou examine well thy naturall inclinations, sudden pushes, and interiour motions to diuers sorts of vices, besi∣des what outward occasions may vnawares bring vs into.

Conclude, that according to this doctrine, all the sinnes, all the crimes, which thou hast seeue or heard in the world, nay all which thou canst imagine possible, fall all within the spheare or compasse of thy weakenes, and ere now thou ••adst been guilty of most or all of them, had not god preserued thee: ô what acknowledge∣ment dost thou owe him? what humilitie? what thankes giuing?

3. Consider thirdly, what a poore worme

man is, compared with God almighty: what is one drop of deaw to the vast Ocean? what one graine of sand to the huge earth? surely almost nothing: if then this same Ocean, this same earth, with the immense orbes of the heauens, together with all the number and vniuersality of creatures; in a word, the whole created ma∣chine, compared with God, be but as a drop to the Ocean, as a sand to the earth; what J pray, dost thou expect to be, in comparison of God? who in respect either of this world, or of that of Angells, art so small a portion, so already vpon the point of nothing; surely thou canst not but confesse thy selfe, a meere nothing, a consumed, vndiscernable atome, before that vast immen∣sitie and diuinitie of God. O how true? Substan∣tia mea quasi nihil ante Te Domine. My life is as nothing before thee ô Lord.

Conclude out of all, what hitherto hath been considered, two principall points, or resolutions, which may stand by thee at all occurrences, and vpon all occasions: the first is, to carry alwayes before thy eyes, but especially when thou co∣mest to pray, or to speake before God, that wonderfull greatnes and excesse of maiestie, aboue thee and all other creatures; and so with most profound humility and reuerence, to stoop euer before him, as a poore slaue before a Mo∣narch; and to tremble, as a moat before the Sun∣ne. The second is, that whatsoeuer abilities or perfections thou art endowed with, as of strength, health, beauty, nobility, vnderstan∣ding,

knowledge, vertue, nay working of mi∣racles &c. thou neuer for these conceit thy selfe before an other, that wanteth them; because now thou knowest, that all proceed from God alone, when, how, and to whom he plea∣seth. These two points will keep our soule in equall poise, neuer to rebell against God, nor to exalt our selues aboue our neighbour