The first Chapter.

WE reade in the di­uine Scriptures, y ^t God, before he defaced & vtterly rased the Citie of Hierusalē, by Na­buchodonozor king of Babylon, sayd [Page]to the Prophet Ieremie in this wise: Iere 32. Take a booke not written in before, and write therein, that which I haue said vnto thée, against Iuda, and a­gainst Israel, from the first day I began to talke with thée, euen vntill this pre­sent day, and publish it in the presence of all the people, thereby to prooue, whe­ther this Nation vnderstanding the manifold miseries I minde to bring vp­on thē, will reuolt from their iniquities, that in so dooing, I may haue compas­sion vppon them, pardon their offences, and cease to exercise the whippe of my wrath which I haue alreadie prepared. The Scripture addeth further, that Ba­ruch, Scribe to this Prophet, pronoun­cing that which hee had written, in the open audience & assembly of the people and Princes, such horrour and feare fell amongst them, that as mē amazed, each beheld others, considering the heapes of woes and wretchednesse which then was vttered before them.

This is the way (gentle Reader) that God then practised, and hath don many [Page 2]times since, to daunt mens hearts, and violently to wrest them from their wic­kednesse, as the most effectuall and for­cible meanes that may bee founde to that purpose. For such and so great are the things which the Scriptures and our fayth daylie telleth vs in the fa­uour of vertue, and hatred of vice, that if men would reade them attentiuely, and ponder them aduisedly, there is no doubt but their hearts would relent, and their flesh tremble thereat, consi­dering the dreadfull daungers wherein they dwell. Wherefore the chéefest thing that the Prophet desired aboue all others, Deut. [...]2 for the redresse of this vncu­rable maladie, was this, when hée said: I would GOD this senselesse gene­ration which are vtterlye deuoyde of counsell, did know, and throughly fore­sée what will happen vpon them, which if they did (as in dutie they are bound to doo) they could not possibly procéede or cōtinue longer in their so crooked course of life. But they are all sunke in the vile sinke of sensuall delights: some hunt [Page]after honours, some for high promoti­ons and dignities, others beating theyr braynes day and night how to cloath curiously theyr carraine corps, and to accomplish their carnall concupiscence: haue no time, eyes, nor heart, to looke to their owne estate, and with the eyes of their minde, to meditate vppon these things, whereof the Prophet speaketh, very properly, Osea. 7 saying: Behold, Ephra­im is like vnto a Doue deceiued, that hath no heart. For the wicked haue heart, wit, and will inough, to loue, to couet, and to count againe, and againe, vppon the pelfe of this world, but they haue neither witte nor will, once to thinke vppon the glory of the worlde to come, which is so infinite and so ine­stimable, that if the least part thereof bee exactly tried and examined in the minde, it would suffice to euacuate the filthy smoake which hath shut vp the eyes of their vnderstanding, and to make them to acknowledge and confesse their owne errour. For this cause therefore beeing moued principally, I haue thought it ve­ry [Page 3]requisite to set downe certaine per­swasions tending to this purpose, to the view of al that list to read or write them. Following héerein the example of the Prophet Ieremie, to shew not onely the gréeuous calamities that God hath pre­pared for the vniust, but also the perfect blisse that he hath prouided for his ser­uants the godly, that the euill disposed returning from their wicked race, may be receiued into the fauour and mercy of God, released of their trespasses, and de­liuered frō all those punishments which God menazeth vpon them in holy scrip­tures.

Chap. II.

TAking my first entry in that which is most obiected to our sences: Re­member that thou art a Christian, and a man. Concerning thou art a man, hold it for a ground infallible, that thou shalt die: after which death, because thou art a Christiā, be sure thou shalt giue vp a reckoning of thy life forepassed. Of this, the faith which we professe wil not permit vs to doubt: that other, dayly experience doth confirme assuredly, so that none can shunne or escape the one nor the other. Be he Pope, Prince, or Emperour, there shall come a time wherein eyther hee shall sée bright day continually, or vgly night incessantly. That time shall come without al doubt, yet thou knowest not when, whether [Page 4]it will be to day or to morrow. In what time thou now readest this writing, whole and sounde in all thy sences and members, measuring the vayes of thy life according to thy businesse, and de­lights, shalt sée thy selfe in a bedde with a candle in thy hand, attending the dint of death, and sentence pronounced against humaine kinde, which by no manner suite may bee released. There shall be presented vnto thée, the depriua­tion of all earthly delights, the insup­portable payne and passion of death, the ende and last Pageant of thy life, the horrour of thy graue, the cursed con­dition of thy body, allotted to be deuou­red of woormes. But the wretched e­state of the soule will bee much more gréeuous vnto thée, which béeing yet in the body, knoweth not after an houre or two where his habitation shall be as­signed.

Then in a moment, thou shalt sée thy selfe sette before the tribunall seate of God almightie, blaming and accusing vnto him thine owne naughtie life. [Page]There thou shalt clearely discerne she foule enormious crimes whereof thou art guiltie, and shall curse ten thousand times, the day in which thou diddest transgresse the commaundements of God, and the delight which stirred thée thereunto. Then shalt thou meruaile at thy selfe, how for so brickle pleasures (as are those which thou imbrasedst) diddest hazard thy selfe to endure per­petuall torments, whereof thou now beginnest to haue a taste and smack, for that the ioyes béeing now quite vani­shed away, and the doome due vnto thée approaching neare, that slender sub­stance which was in them loosing his essence and beeing, seemeth that it was nothing at all: But the remorse and sting wherwith they presently prick and presse thy conscience, appeareth to bée of inestimable force and efficacie.

Perceiuing therefore, how for such transitorie trifles, thou art at poynt to be bereaued of so incomparable felici­tie, béeing abashed thereat, considerest thine owne distresse, for that thou ha­uing [Page 5]runne out thy race, there resteth no longer continuance of life, nor ley­sure of repentance, neither thy world­ly fréendes, neither the Idols to whom thou hast auowed the whole trauaile and terme of thy life, can assist or suc­cour thée at all, yea those things which earst thou louedst most tenderly, will be héere vnto thee the cause of grétest gréefe. Tell me I pray thée, when thou shalt sée thy selfe plunged in this per­plexitie, whither wilt thou turne? what wilt thou doo? to whom wilt thou crye? To go backe it is impossible, so goe forwarde intollerable, to remaine as thou art, thou mayest not: what then wilt thou doo? Then sayth God, by the mouth of the Prophet, the Sun shall not bee séene of the vngodly in the midday, and I will bring darknesse vp­pon them in the bright day, and I will conuert their pleasaunt sports to bit­ter plaints: their dauncing and dally­ing, to dolour and deadly dread. Oh what wordes bee these? Ezech. 32 The Sunne shall go downe in the midday, because [Page]she huge heape of sinne then ouerwhel­ming the wicked, which séeing by the iust iudgement of God, the course of their life and time of repentance to b [...] abridged, many of them are so appalled with feare, that they fall to flat dispayre of the mildenesse and mercy of GOD. And abyding yet in the middest of the day, for so much as is remaynent of their mortall life, which is the very time to merit or not to merit: it séemeth vn­to them that they haue no longer re­spect to doo good or euill, but are vtterly excluded of both: verily the passion of feare is of great force and vehemencie, which maketh things that bee farre from vs, séeme to bee present: and of a trifle, rayseth a tragedie. If the conside­ration of this, causeth them sometime to quake, a little, what then shall the feare of their vndoubted and iust ieopardie cause them to doo? They béeing yet in this life, beginne to suffer sensibly the gréefe and reproach of the Reprobate, and in one very moment, are both quick and dead. For bewayling the present [Page 6]pleasures which they must forsake, be­ginne to séele the future miserie which so much they feare. They holde them most happie which tarry here behinde, whereby they are prouoked to enuie, which greatly augmenteth their griese. To those the Sunne goeth downe at noone dayes, for so much, as which way soeuer they caste theyr eyes, they sée themselues debarred on euery side from accesse to Heauen, and that no beame or sparke of comfort appeareth vnto them: for if they regarde the boun­tie of God, they sée how sore they haue offended him: if they behold his iustice, they see him in a manner rigorously to rush vppon them: for that hitherto the time and tide hath béene at their becke, but now Gods turne is at hande: If they looke backe to their life forepassed, they sée what accusations groweth ther­of: If to the time present, they sée them­selues to pecke ouer the pearch by péece­meale: If they looke forwarde a little further, they beholde the Iudge atten­ding for their accounts. Alasse what [Page]shall the séely wretches doo, béeing at­teinted with so many trespasses, and affrighted with such furious feares at once? For this cause the Prophet said, that the bright day shall be turned into darkenesse, thereby to giue vs notice, that those things whereof the wicked are wont to take their greatest conso­lation, should then be vnto them the cheefest cause of their discomfort. It is a good thing, I graunt, for a man to sée his sonnes, his friendes, his house, his worldly workes, and all that he loueth besides: but then this chearefull light shall bee altogither conuerted to pro­found darknesse, for that all these things shall heape more heauinesse, and shall become most bitter persecuters of their affectioned louers. For as by nature and common custome, we take no small delight in the present possession of those thinges which we loue and like well: So likewise, the losse thereof bringeth excessiue gréefe. Therefore let the swéete children depart out of their fa­thers sight when hée lyeth at poynt of [Page 7]death, and lette the mother also absent her selfe, that shee may not giue and re­ceiue by her presence so many sharpe assaults of sorrowe. And his departure béeing into so far countries, his iourney through so straunge and vnknowne waies, the pinching smart which hee abideth, will not permit him to haue confidence in any thing, neyther will graunt him to take his leaue of his fréends. If thou standest now vppon the same termes I spake of, thou shalt well perceiue I haue not swarued from the truth: but if thou bee not yet come to this gulfe, beléeue them that haue made their passage before thee, as Ec­clesiastes sayth, They which passe ouer the Seas do tell strange perils: if such things doo occurre ordinarily before the departure, what shall happen after? If the eue and vigil be so dreadfull, how shall the feast it selfe bee, and day of sal­uation? Tell me, I pray thée, what wilt thou thinks, when thou béeing depriued of this light and life, alone, poore and naked, without any other [Page]companion then thine owne guiltie con­science, shalt make thy appearance be­before the supernall seate of the righte­ous Iudge, where a rigorous and seuers reckoning shall be erected of thée. There shall be no talk of hanging, hea­ding, or depriuing of this mortall life, but onely of the death and life eternal. If in the recordes of this rufull reckoning, thou be déepely charged with arrerages, debts, and trespasses, what yrkesome agonies shall thy poore heart then in­dure? How much shalt thou bee con­founded? How sore shalt thou repent thée to haue done amisse? How distres­sed of comfort and counsell shalt thou bee The gréefe of the Princes of Iuda was excéeding great, when they beheld the pearsing sworde and Souldiers of Se­sacke King of Egypt, to bee dispearsed through the stréetes of Hierusalem, when by theyr present plague and pu­nishment, they recognized and confes­sed theyr former defects. But what is all this, béeing compared to the confu­sion and wee which there shall wrap [Page 8]the wicked on euery side? what shall they doo? whither shall they flée? who shall bee theyr shield and befence? For there wéeping and wringing of handes doo not mooue compassion: there dete­sting of former follies, is not accounted of: there no petition, no promise will be accepted: There no truce dayes or time of repentance can be graunted, for that hauing finished the last pageant of the play, they cannot enter the stage a­gaine to play theyr part afreshe: there neither eloquence, nor worldly wealth, nor fauour, may purchase pardon, for that Salomon sayth: Prou. 11. Ezech. 17. In the dayes of tribulatiō richnesse shal be of no force, and shall be despised vtterly: onely Iu­stice and equitie shall defend thée from death. But who can describe or paint in his colours the seueritie of his iudge­ment?

This exhortation then béeing so good and so fruitfull, I beséech thée deare brother, sucke out the sappe and swéete thereof for thy commoditie, scanning and considering attentiuely this, where­vpon [Page]vpon thou must trust and depend, as she thing which concerneth thy perpetuall wealth or woe, and though herein are many things well worthy to bee noted, yet aboue al others, let these thrée things neuer be forgottē. Then first, what grée­uous paine thou must then suffer, for ha­uing purchased by thy desert Gods in­dignation. The second, how feruently thou wilt wish that thou haddest framed thy lifs according to his holy will and pleasure. The third, that looke what pe­nance thou wouldest thē be glad to per­forme, if it might be granted thée: now through mature deliberatiō, to assay and labour to liue in such sort as then thou wilt wish to haue liued.

Chap. III.

AFter death, followeth the particu­lar and speciall iudgement of euery mā, and after that the generall and vniuersal iudgement of all men, where­in shall be fulfilled y ^e saying of y ^e Apostle, Wee must all of force shew our selues before the iudgemēt seat of God, that euery one may giue an account of the good & euil he hath done in this body. Many matters are to bee considered in this iudgement, but one of y ^e chéefest, is, to mark of what things we must giue a [Page]reckening. I will search Hierusalem, diligently (saith God) with a candle in my hand. Such is the phrase of the Scripture, whereby we ought to be ad­monished, how narrowly we shal be thē sisted and searched, in the very least things that may be. For there shal not be one fond cogitation, nor one minute of an houre mispent, but it shall bee skored vp in this reckoning. Who is not abashed and appaled at these words of our Sauiour, saying? Verily I say vnto you, that at the time of this audite, men shall be accountable of eue­ry idle worde which they speake vnad­uisedly. Then if of these words which hurt or hinder no man, a reckoning shal be required, what shall be required, I pray you, of dishonest and vnséemely spéeches, of filthy imaginations, of hands bathed and imbrued with blood, of wanton lookes and vncontinent eyes? In figne, of the whole life imploied and consumed in leawdnesse and treche­rie? If this be true, as it is most true, what can bee inferred or gainsayed, [Page 10]why this iudgement shoulde not bee so rigorous as it is knowne to bee indéede? Howe full of ignominie shall hee bes, who in the open face of such a reue­rent Senate, is prossed and burthened with each vaine worde that hath pas­sed him from the time of his natiui­tie? Who will not woonder at such a straunge demaunde neuer heard of be­fore? and who durst to aduouche it, vnlesse it had béene the wordes of Gods owne mouth? What King hath euer exacted an account of any his subiects to the value of of a pinne? O how ex­cellent is the Christian religion, howe pure is the sinceritie which by it wee are taught, and with howe great care doth it demaunde the same puritie a­gaine, and how sharply doth it punish our defects héerein. Further, how pas­sing great shalbe the shame and reproch of the reprobate, when all the mischiefs which hitherto they haue closely coue­red in the corners of their house, and all the brutish vehauiour of theyr youth, with all the secret sores and festered [Page]carbunckles of their conscience, shall be published in the theater, and open view of all the world. And further, who stan­deth vpon such sure grounde, that hea­ring this, his colour doth not begin to chaimge copis? Some rather then they will disclose the secrets of their heart to one man, in a place sequestred from all accesse, béeing ouercome with shame, in eschewing thereof, haue bidden the brunt of many huge perils: How shall they then be confounded whē their most couert drifts and treasons shall bee re­uealed in the presence of God and his Angels, before so many millions of men and women, as haue béene from the beginning, are now and shall be hereaf­ter? This confusion shalbe so great, that as the Prophet saith, they shall cry vnto the hilles, Math. 25. saying: O ye hilles fall vpon vs, and close vs in your Caues, that we may not shewe our selues with such ex­céeding shame. But wo worth ye wret­ches, your hope is frustrate, ye toyle against the tide, weighing the force of that sentence definitiue, Go ye caitiues [Page 11]into euerlasting fire, long since prepa­red for Satan and his adherents. What shall that cursed generation imagine then will become of themselues hearing this? for if, as Iob saith, we can scarce abide to heare his mildest wordes, Iob. 4. who can abide those thundring threats of his omnipotencie? These words shall be so sharpe and so pearsing, that at the verie instant, the earth shall open it selfe wide and large, and into the bottome and bowels thereof, shall be whirled topsie turuie, all those, who, Iob. 2 as the same Iob saith, here haue had their paradise and pleasures, in sundry sortes of Musicke and harmony, trifleling out their time and yeares in all kinde of mirth and iol­litie. This fall and cracke of the earth, S. Iohn describeth in his Apocalips, in this maner: I saw an Angell descending from heauen with great power, and with such brightnesse, that all the earth was lightned therewith, and hée cryed aloude, saying, The great Cittie of Ba­bilon is fallen downe, and is made of the habitation of diuels, and the cage of all [Page]filthy and abhominable fowles. And further hée sayd: I sawe another migh­tie Angell lifting vp on high a great stone, much like to a mylstone, and did cast it into the sea, saying, With such a violence shall the great Babylon bee throwne into the bottomlesse pitte, and shall neuer recouer his estate againe. In this sort shall the vngodly fall into the blacke and gastly prison full of confusion and vtter desolation. Esay 66. But what tongue can expresse the innumerable & sundrie sorts of torments, in that place addres­sed for the wicked? There their bodies shall be broyled with furious flames cō ­tinually: there their soules shall be con­sumed with the worme of conscience, which will neuer cease his gréenous gnawing. There shall be that incessant howling and gnashing of téeth, where­of the Scriptures treateth in so many places. There these vnhappie wret­ches surseysed with cruell dispaire and rage, shall waxe wood against GOD and themselues, in suche dispiteous wise, that they shall deuoure their [Page 12]owne fleshe, and in a franticke moode rent it with their nayles, crashing their téeth togither, and spilling their In­trailes with sorrowe and sighing, blas­pheming and denying continually their creator that hath adiudged them to such sharpe punishments. There euery of them shall crie out vpon his cursed con­dition and vnfortunate byrth, estsoones repeating those pittifull bewaylinges, and wofull wordes of patient Iob, Iob. 3. but with a minde and intent farre con­trarie to his. These bee the wordes. Curst be the day wherin I was borne, and the night in whiche it was sayd, A man is come into the worlde: let that day be turned into darknesse: let it not be reckoned of God, nor beautified with light: let it be ouerwhelmed with darknesse and shadowe of death: let it be full fraught with obscuritie and bit­ternesse: let that night be ouercast with a black cloude: let not that day be num­bred among dayes and moneths of the yeare. Why did not death receiue me so soone as I was issued out of my mothers [Page]wombe? why was I not carried from the place of my byrth, straight to my graue? why was I lulled in my mo­thers lap? or why did she giue me suck? This shall be their melodie, their myd­night mattens, their morning and eue­ning prayer. O filthie tongues, which babble of nothing else but brawling and blasphemie. O wretched cares, which heare no other things but wofull mour­ning. O vnhappie eyes, whose obiect, is miserie vppon miserie. O wretched bo­dies, who haue for your harbour a fierie fornace. In what case shall they then be, who héere earst wallowed in wealth and wantonnesse? O what fléeting de­light hath wrought continuall gréefe? O what wofull habitations are addres­sed for you? Now gone is all your gal­lant glée and iollitie, wherein you de­lighted for a moment, for which ye now lament eternally. Now what doo your treasures auayle you? where is your pompe and pleasure become? the seuen fertile yeares are now ended quite, and in place thereof, are now succéeded the [Page 13]seuen barren yeares, which shall so con­sume the abundance of those which are passed, that there shall not remaine any one shadow or shewe thereof. There­fore all your former felicitie is drenched and wrapped vp in the waues of wret­chednesse, and are now driuen to such straights and scarcitie, that not so much as one droppe of water shall be granted vnto you, wherwith ye might somwhat asswage the raging thirst which vexeth you so furiously: neyther shall your wonted prosperitie reléeue your mise­rie, but rather thereby ye shall be more fiercely afflicted. For therein is accom­plished this saying of Iob, Iob. 21.24.25. that the su­gred soppes of the vngodly, shalbe at the last deuoured with wormes. Which S. Gregory in his Moralls, expoundeth in this sort: The memory of their wonted ioyes, maketh their present paine to séeme more bitter, by calling to minde how braue and frolike they haue bene, and how base and vile they now are come, and howe for loue of that which so soone slipte away, they suffer that [Page]which neuer shall haue end. Then shall they perceiue euidently the subtil slights of the enemie, and being called to their account, shall mutter too late these say­ings of Salomon: Sap. 5. Woe vnto vs wret­ches, howe apparaunt is it now vnto vs, that wée haue strayed from the trade of trueth, that the light of instice hath not shined vpon vs, and that the sunne of intelligence hath not risen ouer vs.

Wée haue wasted and wearied our selues in the crooked and crabbed way of wickednesse: but we haue not step­ped one foote in the plaine and easie path which leadeth to righteousnesse. What are we now abettered by our Princely traine and treasure? All these thinges are now vanished as the fléeting shade, and as the swift Courser chased vppon the spurre, as a shippe driuen with the tide and tempest, which leaueth behinde no print of his passage.

This and such like in the infernall pitte, shall bee the talke of those which haue bene offendors. For that the hope and trust of sinne, is like vnto chaffe chased [Page 14]with the winde, or as the skumme and froath of the Sea dispearsed with the waues, as the smoke sodeinly dissolued into the ayre, or as the remembraunce of a pylgrime passing by the way. These be there the complaintes, and this the perpetual penance of the vngodly, which shall not assist them at all, because the time is passed wherein they might haue bene reléeued hereby. Come therefore in the time of grace and repentaunce, and you that haue eares, receiue the sounde aduise of our Lorde vttered by the Prophet, saying: Iere. 13. Serue and glori­fie God before the day be depriued, be­fore the darke night of death steale vp­pon you, and ere your féete be entrap­ped, or ye stumble at that foule blacke hillocke. Therefore take the time and day whilest ye haue it, for it shall be tur­ned into darknesse. And our Lord him­selfe, who better then any other, know­eth the deapth of this daunger, aduerti­seth vs hereof in his Euangelist, saying, Luke 11. Take héed y ^t your hearts be not opprest with too much meate & drinke, and with [Page]ouermuch care and turmoyle of this world, least that dreadfull day catch you at vnwares, which will steale vpon you like a théefe, and vpon all those which in­habit vpon the face of the earth. There­fore watch and pray continually, that you may be deliuered from these huge heapes of calamities, which hereafter will happen, that you being cleane and vndefiled, may be presented before the sonne of the pure Virgin, the promoter of all our auaile and profit.

CHAP. IIII.

NOw that we haue declared the cō ­demnation and sharpe sentence to be pronounced vpon the wretched sinner: it followeth consequently, that we treat likewise of the glorious recom­pence wherewith the righteous shall be endued, which is nought else, but that happie life and kingdome which God hath ordeined for his chosen people euen from the creation of all things, which is such and so excellent, that neither with the tongue of men nor Angels it can be expressed. But that ye may haue some taste of this, heare what S. Augustine briefly saith in commendation hereof, in a certaine meditation of his, in this sort: O life alotted by God to them that loue him, a liuing life, a life voide of care, a blessed life, a quiet life, a pleasaunt life, a pure life, a chaste life, a life enemie to death, a life that knoweth no gréefe, voyd of molestation, of smart, of anxie­tie, voyd of all corruption, voyd of per­turbatiōs, not subiect to varietie, change [Page]or mutabilitie. A life full of beautie and perfection, where no enemie shall molest thée, nor no trespasse offend thée: when is perfect vnitie, vnfeigned and holie loue: where all feare is far away: where is one eternall day, without alteration: where God is séene face to face, which is the foode of all that there abive. Swéet GOD, with an vnsatiable heart and greedie minde, I couet thy hidden trea­sures, and the more I long after them, the more I luste and burne in desire: considering thée my delight, my life and Sauiour, in contemplation whereof, I féele my selfe excéedingly refreshed and reuiued. O moste happie life, O very blessed kingdome, altogither with out death, and without ende, which doest not yéelde to any succession or al­teration of times, where is bright day continually, without interruption of night: there it is not knowne what mutation meaneth, where the tryum­phant Souldiour accompanied with a glittering crewe of Angelles, singeth vnto GOD without ceasing, the pas­sing [Page 16]praise of Sion, hauing gotten the crowne of euerlasting felicitie. I would to God that my sin, my gréeuous guilt, were forgiuen me: Thrise blessed were my soule, if after this painefull pylgri­mage, I might be worthy to sée and be­holde thy glory, the beatitude, the beau­tie, the walles, and the gates of thy Ci­tie, thy stréetes, thy pallaces, thy no­ble Citizens, thy worthie King, setled in his throne of magnificence. Thy walles are made of precious stones, thy gates are beautified with shining Pearles, thy stréetes are paued with pure gold, which resounde and ring aloude with the peales of perpetuall praises. Thy houses are buylded with quadrant sto­nes, adorned with Saphyrs, thy bea­mes and rafters are of golde, where no corruption can abide, nothing may en­ter that is defiled. O Hierusalem, our mother, thou art braue and pleasaunt in thy deuises, the force of no aduersi­tie is felte in thée, neither any of those discommodities are susteyned whiche here we find. Thy ioyes are farre aboue [Page]any which this wretched life can yéelde vs. In thee is neuer founde night, darke­nesse, nor chaunge of times. Thy light issueth neither from lampe, nor from the Moone, nor yet from the stars, but God the light of all lightes, is ho which light­neth thée. The supernall Emperour kée­peth continuall residence in the middest of thée, enuironed and assisted with ma­ny millions of his ministers. There the angelicall quires answere each to other melodiously: there the frutes of true nobilitie, doo yéelde a pleasaunt sent and spectacle to the beholders: there is cele­brated the feast of those, who being safe­ly arriued from y ^e bottomlesse sea of these miseries and mishappes, are incorpo­rate in one societie with those which possesse eternall life: There is the com­pany of the Prophets, the royall ranke of the Apostles, the inuincible hoast of innumerable Martyrs: there is the sa­cred conuent of graue Confessors: there are the true religious, the deuout wo­men, who despising all delights and dal­liance, haue conquered their fraile in­clination: [Page 17]There are the virgins and younglings, which with their vertuous indnstry, haue shunned she allurements of this vile deceitfull world: There are the innocent lambs, who robbing them­selues of all earthly pleasures, doo now skip and leape for ioy, in theyr propper and peculiar houses. And whatsoeuer difference there be in glory amōg them, notwithstanding the solace and conten­tation, is common to all: There chari­tie ruleth béeing entire and perfect, for that god is all in all, whom they alwaies sée, and séeing him continually, are euer enflamed with his loue, therefore they louing praise him, and praysing loue him, all their exercise, all their endeuour, is to magnifie him without ceassing or intermission. O how happie were I, and most happie, if after the dissolution of this corporall prison, I might heare the swéete musicall songs of that cele­stiall harmony, and sing Psalmes of cō ­mendation to the eternall king, of al the woorthy company of the most happie Cittie. Now happie shoulde I be, yea [Page]twise blessed, if I might attaine to this felicitie, to sing & stand before my King, my God, my guide, and to behold him in his glorie, as himselfe hath promised to be séene, Ioh. 7. whē he said: O father, my desire is, that all those may be with me which thou hast giuen me, that they may see the cleare brightnesse which I had with thée before the foundation of the world. And all this is vouched out of S. Augu­stine. Now tell me then what a cheare­full day shall that be, which shall so illu­minate and clarisie thy courage, if at the full consummation of this pilgrimage, thou passe from mortalitie to immorta­litie, and in the same time that other [...] begin to droope, to doubt and dread, thou shalt beginne to lifte vp thy head, be cause the wished day of thy redemp­tion approacheth neare. Lifte vp th [...] minde a little (said S. Hierome vnto th [...] virgin Eustochia) out of the dungeon o [...] this corrupt bodie, and setling thy self before the gate of the heauenly taber­nacle, scan and consider well the mer [...] of this thy present distresse, and what­glorious day that day shall be vnto thée [Page 18]wherin the virgin Mary garded with a troope of pure virgins, shall be prest to receiue & welcome thee, and wherin thy Lord & spouse himselfe, with all his holy Saints, shall méete thée, saying, Can. 2. Come a­way and follow me quickly my loue, my delight, my doue, for now the wofull winter is passed, the sharp showres are ceased, the tempests & whirlwindes are appeased, and here spring vp swéete fra­grant flowers in this lande of behest. This shall be then the delight & consola­tion that thy soule shall receiue before the high throne of that most blessed tri­nitie, before the angels, but specially by him to whose custodie thou were earst committed, whē these & all the rest shall declare the sundry tribulations, the tra­uels & persecutions that thou hast suffe­red for y ^e loue of Christ. S. Luke sheweth, Act. 9. that when y ^e charitable Tabita deceased, all the widowes & poore people besought the apostle Peter in her behalf, shewing him their garmēts which she had made: the Apostle being moued thereat, praied vnto God instantly for so mercifull a [Page]woman, whereby shee was restored a­gaine to life. What a singular com­fort shalt thou then perceiue in thy soule, when those blessed spirits shall take thée, and set thée before the diuine consistorie of God, publishing thy de­serts, and reciting orderly thy almes, thy prayers, thy fasting, the integrity of thy life, thy susteining of wrong, thy pati­ence in affliction, and temperance in de­lights, with all thy other vertues and good déeds whatsoeuer? O what delecta­tion shalt thou then reape of euery good action here atchieued? howe shall the force and valure of vertue bee manife­sted vnto thée? There humble obedience shall triumph with victorie. There ver­tue shal be rewarded, and the wel dispo­sed shall be regarded according to theyr desert. Besides this, what inward and secret solace shal that be vnto thée, when thou séeing thy selfe arriued in so assured an harbour, shalt haue regard towards the course of thy dangerous nauigation passed, and shalt sée the troubles and torments wherein thou liuedst earst, [Page 19]she wyles, the ambushes of the enemy, the cruell incurtions of théeues, which new thou hast escaped. There it is where resoundeth this song of the Pro­phet: Psal. 93. Were it not that the Lord was mindfull of mée, my soule should haue hardly auoyded the infernall habitation. But specially, when thou shalt perceiue how in this worlde offences are multi­plied, how daily so many soules des­cend to hell and damnation: how among such a multitude of castawayes, God would associate thée into the fellowship of his chosen people, which shall be the inheritours of such a renowmed king­dome. But that which passeth al this, is, to sée the solemne feasts and tryumphes which there are helde day by day, for the welcome of their newe brothers, who hauing ouercome the world, fini­shed and performed the race of their pilgrimage, come to receiue the crowne of eternitie. O what ioy shall it be to be­hold the accomplishment of that which doo appertaine to the setting vp and new erection of the walles of the noble Hie­rusalem, [Page]with what swéete embracing's and cullings shall they be welcomed by all the celestiall court, séeing them come laden and lugged with the spoiles of the vanquished foe. There they shall enter with the victorious barons, with those worthy women, which haue conquered the world, togither with theyr brickle nature. There likewise the vncorrupt virgins, murthered and martyred for their spouse sake Christ Iesu, shall enter with double triumph: that is, with con­quest of the flesh and of the worlds, a­dorned and crowned with Garlandes, fraught with roses and freshe gréene flowers, all about their heads. In like maner, there litle boyes and gyrles ma­stering their tender yeares with discre­tion and vertue, shall come in to receiue the hyre and guerdon of their integritie. Where they shall finde theyr fréendes, knowe their ministers, recognise theyr parents, and culling and kissing them affectionately, shall heare the glad ty­dings to bee made possessors of eternall felicitie. O how then shall the fruite of bertue taste deliciously, although in [Page 20]times past the roote thereof séemed sowre and vnsauery. Swéete is the shadowe after noone, the fountaine is pleasaunt to the thirsty & wearied waifaring man: sléepe and rest yéelde great comfort to him that hath trudged and toiled all day: but farre greater contentatiō peace brin­geth to the saints, after their weary war, securitie after perils, and perpetuall re­pose after infinit trauailes.

The broyle of battaile is now appea­sed, to be armed it néedeth not, neither on the right fide; nor on the lest. The children of Israel were armed, when they went to the land of promise, but after they had conquered the countrey, they laide aside their weapons, and e­uery of them forgetting quite the feare and trouble of warre, they all were lod­ged in the harbor of rest and quietnesse, and enioyed the fruition of long desired peace. There may y ^e eyes wearied with lōg watching, receiue their quiet sléepes. Now may y ^e subtil serpent attending to entrap vs, come out of his ambush: now may y ^e happy Hierom betake him to rest, [Page]who made the night and day one, in la­menting his defaultes and trespasses, encountering couragiously the cruell conflicts of our auncient enemie: there the horrible armours doo neuer sound of that bloudie beast: there is no place forth: crooked craftie Serpent: there the venomous Basiliske dooth not effende the sight nor his hissing is not heard, but the breath and sweete sounde that distils loth from the loue of the holy Ghost, here raungeth rounde about. Where is clearely discerned the royall magnifi­cence of God himselfe. This is the re­gion of rest and securitie, scaled aboue all the elements, where the dark cloudes and filthie vapours doo not ouerlappe the bright and pure aire. What happie things are said of thée, O Citie of God? happie are they, saith Tobias, which loue thée, Psal. 147. and enioy thy peace. O my soule, extol and magnifie God, who hath deliuered Hierusalem his holy city, from troubles and vexation. Nowe blessed should I be, if hereafter in the remnant of my time, I might sée the beautie and [Page 21]brightnesse of Hierusalem, whose gates shall be of Saphyrs, and of pollished Smaredges, the circuite of whose wall shall be of pearle and precious stone, the stréetes shall be of white marble, inter­laced with pure Alabaster, and euery place resoundeth with Alleluia, and voi­ces of gratulation. O mery, swéete, ve­lectable counsaile, O high renowmed glory, O blessed societie, who shal be those happie Christians, picked or sor­ted out to dwell in thée? It seemeth a hard thing to desire thee, yet no man can liue without this desire. O sonnes of Adam, O wretched generation of men, how sensuall and abiect are your thoughts, for if this bee the viands or foode ye ought to feed vppon, what other thing doo you labour for? whereabout do you goe? what, will ye loose a benefit so inestimable, rather then ye will trauaile a little? If this may bee obteyned with labour and paine, for mine owne part I desire them, I call and cry to all the trauailes and toyles that may bee suffe­red in the world to come vpon me, that [Page]tribulations turmoile and tosse mee at their pleasure, that my body bee vexed with infirmities of all sorts, and my minde afflicted with sorrowe and anxie­ties: let both the one and the other con­sume me in griefe: let all the creatures of the worlde rise vp and impugne mee: let me be the reproach of mē, the outcast of the world: let my life bee spent in dol [...] and distresse, and my yeares finished in wofull wéepings: For all this I make no reckoning, so that after I may com­municate and haue my part with the Saints in Heauen, and may haue eter­nall rest in the day of tribulation, and may ascende to the people which are cloathed and adorned with that shining glory. Goe to now, O foolish world­ling, drudge and toile for high titles and dignities, erect lodgings and pallaces, enlarge the limits of thy possession, let Kingdomes, and if thou wilt, lette the whole world be at thy commandement: yet for all this, thou shalt not be so great as the least of Gods seruants, who re­ceiueth that which the worlde cannot [Page 22]ginohim, and yet possesseth eternitie. Thou with thy riches and ryot shalt ac­company the rich glutton in the dampe of eternall damnation: hee with poore Lazarus shall be caried vp with Angels, and conueyed into Abrahams bosome.

Chap. V.

THe least part of these rewardes, were inough to stir vp our earthly and lumpish hearts to doo much [Page]more then that which wee are eni [...]yn [...] vn [...]o by the commaundements of God. But what if with this glory exceeding all measure, we adioyne in like manner the vnmeasurable punishments proui­ded for the wicked? For that those can­not there be reuealed with this saying: What if I be a castaway? no other in­couenience ensueth thereof, then ne­uer to see the glory of God, and to be hereafter as though I neuer were, not knowing good nor euill. But they misse in their reckoning, béeing allotted per­force to take one of these vnequall con­ditions, that is, eyther to be glorified with Angels, or accursed with Diuels: to rule with God eternally, or to burne in hell perpetually. The one of these twaine they must néedes elect for the place of theyr perpetuall abode. These bee the two baskets which God fore­shewed in a figure to the Prophet before the Gate of the temple, the one of them filled with dilicate and holesome figges: the other full of such filthy and vnsauery figges, that euery man abhorred to taste [Page 23]or touch them. Which signifieth no­thing else then the oddes and difference of two fortes of people: the one is of the chosen, to whom God hath bestewed his mercies bountifully: the other of the abiects, to whom God extendeth the heauie hand of his iustice. And the lot of the first sort is so excellent florishing, and that of the others so wofull & wret­ched, that the greatnesse of these two ex­treames, so much differing betwéene themselues, cannot be specified by any words. But omitting all other consi­derations, the state of the happie is an vniuersall felicitie, wherein all good things are conteined: and contrari­wise, the condition of the wicked, is the hauen where arriueth all vnhappinesse, the nourse of sorrow, and harbour of di­stresse. All the miseries which are in [...] ­dent to this life, be miseries in speciall, and therefore doo not torment all our members generally, but one or some of them alone. For example hereof, we see some men greeued in their eyes, some in their eares, many in their stomacks, [Page]others in their bellies, and not a fewe at the very heart. Yet none of these in­firmities doo vexe all the sences vniuer­sally at one instant, but some of them particularly. Notwithstanding, the smart is oft full sharpe and vehement, and the night ouer tedious to him that abideth either of these gréefes, be it but the aking of a toothe or gumme. Ad­mit now, that a certaine man shoulde suffer such an vniuersall punishment, that no member, sence, or ioynt, should bee frée from peculiar tormentes, and that at one very instant hée must abide most bitter paines in the head, in his eyes, in his téeth, eares, stomacke, liuer, heart, and to be short, in all the other members and ioyntes of his bodie, and that hée laie in this perplexitie vppon a bedde, féeling the seuerall gréefes assig­ned to euery member. What excessive forrow should he suffer, thinkest thou, which were tormented in this sorte [...] or what thing coulde be more misera­ble and pittifull to beholde? If thou sawest a dogge in that distresse, it would [Page 24]perforce moue thee to compassion. This deare brother (if any comparison may be vsed herein) is that, which not for the space of one night, but for euer, is suffe­red in the pitte that perpetually burneth with fire and brimstone. For as the vn­godly do gréeuously offend God with all their sences & members, making them y ^e instruments to further their franticke follies & excesses: so by the ordinance of God, there they are all tormēted, & euery of them abideth his proper punishment. For there the incontinent eyes shall be afflicted & affrighted with the vgly sight of diuels: the eares with confused cryes and complaints: the nose with the intol­lerable stenche of that filthy denne: the taste, with raging thirst and famine: the féeling, and all the body besides, with pearcing colde & heate: the imagination shall be tormented with the apprehen­sion of present paine: the memorie, by hauing still in mind y ^e pleasures passed: the vnderstanding, with cōsideration of the glorious kingdom lost, & cursed cōdi­tion that is hapned. The diuine Scrip­tures [Page]tures signifieth vnto vs this pluralitie of paines, where it saith, that in hell shall be famine, Mar. 15. Psal. 10. thirst, wéeping, and gna­shing of téeth, the two edged sword, the spirites and creatures of reuenge, ser­pents, wormes, scorpions, bytles, sowre sasages, water distilled of gall, stormy tempestes, and other such like annoy­ances. By which it frameth and prefer­reth to our presence, an euident patterne of the diuers and dreadful plagues prac­tised in hell. Exod. 10. Finally, there shall be in­ward and outward darknesse, both of the body and minde, farre more obscure then those of Egypt, which might be felt and touched with the hand. There shall be fire, but not suche as we vse com­monly, which smarteth a little, and va­nisheth quickly: but such as is most fit for that place, that is, which afflicteth vehemently, and neuer ceaseth to tor­ment. If this be true, how can it be, that those whiche beléeue and confesse the same, should line so loosely, and sléepe in such securitie? What daunger, what tedious toyle would not any man glad­ly [Page 25]vndertake, rather then he would en­dure one day, yea one houre, the least of these torments? Why then to shun a perpetuitie of calamities so tragicall, doo they not imploy themselues to so easie trauaile as that which is requisite to the following of vertue? This thing were inough to sequester a mans soule from his sences, and to bring him to an extacie, that deliberateth aduisedly here­vpon. Yet if among these huge heapes of miseries, were any hope of ende or redresse, it woulde quallifie somewhat their gripings corsies: but alas, they find it there farre otherwise, for the gates of comfort are closed vp on all sides. In all kinde of heauinesse that may happen in this life, resteth alwayes some re­liefe, wherein the afflicted may repose himselfe, as that which is administred either by reason of time, fréendes, or company of many whiche doo partici­pate with him in the same mishap, or by hope to be released at last, may mitti­gate their maladie: But in this euill onely, the cundits of grace are so stop­ped, [Page]and the passages of common com­fort so interrupted, that these vnhappie creatures can finde fauour on no side, neither from heauen, neither from the earth, neither of the time passed, nor present, nor of that to come, nor of ought that can be else, but they séeme to be pressed and pearsed of all partes, and that all creatures cōspire against them, whereby at last they ware wood and wrath with themselues. This is the ex­treme straightnesse, whereof the wicked bewayle themselues by the Prophet, in this sorte: Psal. 17. The dread of death hath hedged me in on euery side, and the in­fernall frightes haue inuironed met round about, in such wise, that whereon soeuer they péepe or prie, their obiect is alwayes miserie exempted of mercie. The Virgines whiche stoode prest at the Pallace of their spouse, were recei­ued in, Matth. 15. as the Euangelist saith, and so­deinly the gates were locked. O perpe­tuall pinning faste, O immortall inclo­sure, O gate of comfort which neuer shall be opened, which is as though he [Page 26]had saide, Closed is the porte of par­don, shut is the doore and hatch of hope and intercession, of grace, of consola­tion, and of meriting any more. The sixe daies are vanished, wherin Manna was to be gathered, but the Sabboth it could not be founde, wherfore he must fast alwaies, which would not prouide for himselfe in time. The y [...]le sluggard (saith Salomon) fearing the colde will not till his grounde in the Winter, whereby he shall begge in the sommer, and nothing shall be giuen him. And againe, He that laboureth in the som­mer and time of haruest, is discréete: but he that then betakes him to sleepe, is the sonne of perdition. What greater confusion can there be then that which hapned to the riche myser, who might haue purchased his place in heauen with the crums of bread that fell frō his table: by his couetousnesse in deteyning that litle, is now brought to such penury himself, that he craueth, & shall craue cō ­tinually one drop of water, & shal neuer obtaine it. In whose heart doth not this [Page]request of that wretch moue a remorse. O father Abraham, pittie my case, and send Lazarus, Luke 16. that he may dip the top of his finger in the water, and may touch my toong therewith, for this fire tormenteth me out of measure. What lesse petition could be demaunded then this? for he durst not request one vessell of water, neither would he that Laza­rus should wet all his hande, nor his whole finger, (which is to be wondred at) but only the toppe of his finger, and yet it would not be graunted vnto him. By which thou seest how close the gates of grace are shulte, and howe farre the prohibition and curse stretcheth, which is prepared for the vngodly, sith they cannot get so small a matter. In such sort, that cast they their gastly lookes which way they will, let them extend their hand to what place them list, they shall finde no crum of comfort, be it ne­uer so small. And as one fallen into the sea, plunging in the deapth of the wa­ters, can finde no perfect footing, and of­ten stretching out his arme, catcheth [Page 25]and graspeth round about in vaine, be­ing now euen swallowed in the gulfe: So shall it happen to the accursed crue, to whome the worlde is without any stabilitie, for wading in the waues of such woe & wretchednesse, and alwaies striuing with death, without trust or stay of any succour to leane vnto. Of all the gréefes which is suffered in that mischéeuous place and harbour of ad­uersitie, this is the greatest: for if these punishmentes were determinable by any time, yea though it were a thou­sande yeares, or a hundred thousande million of yeares, it were some kinde of comfort, for that which hath end, is not altogither to be dispraïsed: but the paine of the wicked shall be eternall, and the time of their distresse shall be coequall with the diuine glorie of God: so long as God shall liue, so long shall they dye: and when God shall cease to be that he is, then shall they likewise leaue to be that they are. O dying life, O liuing and immortall death, I know not whe­ther I should call thée life or death, for [Page]if thou be life, why dyest thou? if thou be death, how doest thou still endure? I will not therefore call thée the one nor the other, for that neither the one nor the other, conteyneth ought that good is. Life hath his limits, and death dureth but for a time, which much auayleth to the asswaging of sorrowes, but in thée are neyther boundes nor space at all. What then art thou? Verely thou art the penaunce of life, and the plague of death, for thou hast the sting and tor­ment of death euerlastingly, and of life thou hast the perpetuitie without inter­mission. GOD spoyled both life and death of their happinesse, and commit­ted to thée, that which was left for the perpetuall punishment of the vngodly. O cursed confection, O bitter pill, be­rest vtterly of all the benefites and de­lights that floweth from our swéete Sa­mour Christ, which is the foode that all wretched sinners féede vpon. I wish therfore, deare brother, that not sildome thou wouldest erect thy earthly minde to the consideration of this eternitie, and [Page 28]as a beast of the world wouldest some­times make thy repast thervpō. Which that thou mayest performe effectually, propone before thy eyes of vnderstan­ding, the affliction that a sicke man suf­fereth in one night, specially if hée be seased with some sharp infirmitie. Mark I pray thée, how oft he turneth & wallo­weth in his very bed, how he can take no kinde of rest, how the night seemeth so long vnto him, that he reckoneth euery houre of the clocke, & each houre séemeth a day long. He looketh & longeth for the light, which nought or little auaileth to moderat his misery. Then if this sorrow bee so great and insupportable, what shall the paine be of that eternall night, which hath no morning nor dawne of day? O profounde darkenesse, O night perpetuall, O night accursed by Gods owne mouth, the light whiche was wont to lift vp it selfe in the morning, is not séene in thée. Consider nowe what a torment it is to liue alwayes in suche a night as this is, not couched in a softe bedde, as a sicke man is, [Page]but rather in a fornace flaming with fires. What shoulders can be able to a­bide these so feruent heates? what heart will not melt with sorrow, to continue in such torment for euer? Which of you (saith God by the Prophet) can su­staine that consuming fire, and liue in that excessiue heate? O dreadful threats, if that a man cannot endure possibly to put the toppe of his finger vppon one glowing coale, whilest a Pater noster is saide: howe shall he abide to broyle both bodie and soule in these eternall flames, which are so fierce and vehe­ment, that comparing them to those which here we sée in this world, séeme of no more force then fire paynted on the walles? Is there any iudgement in the earth? haue men vnderstanding? doo they perceiue the weight of these wordes and threates? thinke they that those are deuices faigned by Poets? or doo they perswade themselues that it toucheth some others, and perteineth not to them? Wherein they are much deceiued, and sottishly féede their foo­lish [Page 29]fancie, sith it is verified by the eter­nall trueth, saying, Heauen and earth shall decaie, but my word shall neuer want his force and vigour.

CHAP. VI.

SOme man peraduenture will mar­uel why I should accumulate so ma­ny reasons to iustifie this that I haue begunne, and to confirme an approued veritie, and a thing so commendable as [Page]is that atchiuing of vertue, but this dis­course is not addressed to that ende, nor to extenuate any doubt that may be in a matter so manifest.

But for that monstrous is the malice of our corrupt minde, and the conflicts very cruell which striue to destroy the soueraintie of renowmed vertue, it is requisite that her bulwarkes be of suffi­cient strength to beare the brunt and shocke of all assaultes. But for my bet­ter proofe and progresse of this matter, it shall not be amisse to adioyne here vn­to, howe much we are bounde to the seruice of God, not onely for hope of the hire which we expect at his handes, nor for dread of his iustice, but chéefely for those good things which by him we pre­sently enioy. For if all creatures im­brace their benefactours, and bruite beastes acknowledge them by whome they haue bene reléeued: yea, if the lawe of thankesgiuing be of such force, that the fierce Tygres, Lions, and Serpentes, yéelde to her segnioritie, and liue vnder her lore, howe shall I escape to be ac­counted [Page 30]more cruell then those beastes, if I should not loue and magnifie him, who hath bene so beneficiall vnto me? What is there either in me or without me, whith is not issued from the bountie of God? Thou Lorde hast created my soule to thine owne image and simili­tude, thou hast disposed the organes of my bodie, and beautified it with such feature and varietie of members and sences, that regarding well the curious cunning of the worke, appeareth that it can be wrought by no other artificier then thy selfe. Thou haste and doest ordaine daily all thinges necessarie for the preseruation of this thy woorke, thy prouidence is my guide, thy hand doth sustaine me, thy creatures serue me, thy medicines heale me, thy foode doth nourish me, thy Angels guard and kéepe mée, thy wisedome instructeth mée, thy mercy prouideth for mée, and thy patience supporteth mee: Finally, all that I haue, are thy goods, thy grace, and thy mercy.

For who giueth mee my essence, [Page]to be that I am, but thou that art the Fountaine of all essence and béeing.

By whose benefite doo I liue, if not by thine, which giuest light and life to all them that breath? who giueth me iudge­ment and vnderstanding, if not thou which art the lampe of eternall light? Therefore what should a man doo for such a one, who hath him so much his benefactour? Why should he not serue him with all his forces both of bodie and minde, who hath made him all, and doth preserue him all, both bodie and soule, and by whose direction he is gouerned altogither? Wherfore if we be so much bounde vnto him for his benefites gi­uen vs by nature, how can we gratifie him sufficiently for those his giftes of grace? How canst thou counteruayle his curtesie, who amongest so sundry sorts of people and nations of Infidels, hath singled thée out for himselfe, hath created thée a Christian, and hath wa­shed thée with the water that distilled from his precious side, and there hath adorned thée for his sonne, and hath in­uested [Page 31]thée with all habites and orna­mentes that are requisite for that dig­nitie? But after, when againe thou were fallen from this preheminence, who can declare how patiently hée did holde thée vp, when thou sinnedst? with what eyes did he beholde thee, when thou madest no reckoning of him? how carefully did hée guard thée, when thou diddest procrastinate thy returne vnto him? with how many holy instincts did he stirre thée? with how many harolds did he sommon thée to come, that at the last, forsaking thy former follies, shoul­dest bowe to his holy will and bent?

But what shall I say of that supernall grace, of that most excellent benifite of our redemption? O Lorde the heauens blesse and extoll thée, and the Angelles sing prayses of thy merueilous workes. What néede haddest thou of our auaile, or how could our annoy bee preiudiciall vnto thée? If I offende (sayth Iob) what hurt is it vnto him? and if thine iniqui­ties abounde, what harme taketh hee thereby? and if thou doo well, what is he [Page]she better therefore? But what commo­ditie? what reward can he reape at thy hands, who is God omnipotent, so rich and so frée, and far from all wracke and woe? that GOD (I say) whose wealth, whose power, whose wisedome can be neither augmented nor diminished: who neither before the cōstitution of the world, nor after he had made all things, is one iot more or lesse then hee was before: nor if all the angels and all man­kinde should be saued, and should praise him perpetually, is any whit the woor­thier: nor if they all were damned and did blaspheme him, is lesse glorious at all. This so great a lord, not drawne nor driuen by any straights at all, but of méere grace and bountie, whilst our acts of hostilitie were yet in fresh memorie, was content to encline the heauens of his royall maiestie, and to descend into this Caue of calamities, to cloath him with the vesture of our mortalitie, to charge himselfe with the déepe debt of al our sins, and for satisfaction thereof, to endure such torments as were neuer [Page 32]suffered in this world. For my sake, O Lorde, thou wast borne in a stall: for mée thou wast laid in a manger: for mée thou wast circumcised the eight day: for me thou wast conueyed into Egypt: for me (to conclude) thou wast persecuted and turmoyled with a number of infamies: for me thou watchedst: for me thou tra­uailedst: for me thou swettest: for mée thou didst wéepe: for me thou hast proo­ued all those euils which my enormous crimes haue deserued, thou béeing in­nocent and guiltlesse. Finally, for mée thou wast apprehended as a malefac­tour, abandoned of thy fréends, solde, de­nied, presented before the tribunall seate of those iudges, where thou were accused, bufferted, defamed, whipped, spitted at, scratched, condemned, cru­cified, blasphemed, pierced with a speare, dead and buried. Therefore with what desert of mine, can I ac­quite my selfe, I will not say of all these courtesies, but of the least drop of blood shed out of thy holy side, for me vnwor­thy wretch. How is it possible that [Page]I should loue him sufficiently, who so hath loued me, so hath created me, so hath redéemed me, and hath bought mée so dearely? If I be lifted vp from the earth (sayth our Sauiour) all things shall be drawne after me. But with what chaines, with what violence?

With the force of loue, and with the bondes of his benefits. With the rope of Adam (sayth our Lorde) I will draw thē vnto me, and with the knot of loue. Therefore who will not bee lifted vppe with this draught? who will not suffer himselfe to bee catcht and caried with such chaines? If one little drop of wa­ter falling continually vppon a stone, will pearce and breake it at the last, how shall not the bonds of so many benefits be inough to rent my stony heart a sun­der? And if the very earth wrought in the feruent heat, is sometimes conuer­ted into fire, how shall my heart be frée from burning, béeing so beset with the glowing coles of such vnmeasurable loue? if it bee so haynous an offence not to loue this Lorde, what shall it be to of­fend [Page 33]him, to despise him, and to trans­gresse his commaundementes? How canst thou haue any heart or hand to offende those handes which haue bene so bountifull vnto thée, which for thée were spread vpon the crosse? When that lasciuious woman besought the Patri­arke Ioseph, that he would betray his maister, the holy man repelled her with this saying, Behold, O wretched wo­man, what trust my Lord hath reposed in me, to put all that he hath into my handes, except thée his wife, therefore with what face can I commit this vila­nie against my Soueraigne? Which is as if hée had sayd, If my Lord hath béen so friendly affectioned towards me, if he hath committed all that he hath to my custodie, if in such wise he hath fan­cied and honoured me, that in me only it resteth to dispose of his affaires: how may I, béeing tyed with the bonds of so many benefites, haue any handes at all to offende a Lorde so liberall? And it doeth not content him to say, It is no reason to offende him: but, How can I [Page]offend him? for the greatnesse of good turnes, doo not onely restraine the will, but in a manner all power and possibili­tie to annoy the benefactor. And it bin­deth fast both the handes and the féete of a man, that he cannot striue against it. Wherefore if these kind of ceremonies, as to bee gratefull for good turnes bée of so great force, what shall we thinke of the benefites of God? That man com­mitted to Iosephs fidelitie all his busi­nesse, and God hath put into thy hands all that he hath. Consider then howe much Gods treasures are more woor­thy then any that Pharao did possesse, for that so much more is this which thou enioyest, then was that which Io­seph did receiue. But tell me what thing hath God, which he hath not giuen into thy hands? heauen, earth, the sunne, the moone, the starres, the sea, birdes, fishes, trées, beasts, and finally all that is con­teined vnder the golden globe, he hath bestowed vppon thée: and yet not that onely which is héere belowe in earth, but likewise all that is in the Heauens a­boue, [Page 34]which is the glory, the riches, and the delights of Angels and Saintes, which are there praying busily for thy commoditie. All things (saith the Apo­stle) are yours, whether it be Paul, Paul. or Apollo, or Peter, bee it the worlde, bee it life, bee it death, bee it the time present, or that to come, all is yours, for that all serueth for your behoofe: and yet not that alone which is aboue the heauens, but the Lord of heauen himselfe, hath giuen vs his onely sonne, after sundry sorts, sometimes as a patron, sometimes as a defendor, sometimes as a sauiour, some­times for a teacher, sometime for a Phi­sitian, sometime for a rewarde, some­time for a conseruation, sometime for a remedie, and for each other our néed. The Father hath giuen vs his sonne, the sonne hath merited for vs the ho­ly Ghost, the holy Ghost hath made vs meritorious of GOD the Father himselfe, from whome floweth the streames of all felicitie. Therefore if this father (as the Apostle sayth) hath giuen vs his onely sonne, which was [Page]the greatest gift he could bestow on vs, howe will hee not deliuer vnto vs with him all other things whatsoeuer? Ther­fore if it bee true that God hath giuen vnto thée al that he hath, if he hath wrapt thée fast with obligation of so many be­nefites: howe is it possible that thou shouldest molest or gréeue so liberall and bountifull a benefactour? If it be a grée­uous crime, not to be thankfull for so good turnes: what shall it be to adioyne to ingratitude, the contempt and offence of the benefactor? If that young man founde himselfe in such bondage, and so impotent to annoy him who had com­mitted to his fidelitie the charge of his house: what heart or courage canst thou haue to offend him, which for thy be­hoofe hath created both heauen & earth? O more vngrateful then the very beast, O more cruell then the Tigres, O more insensible then the senslesse creatures, not to consider so great a fall: for what beast, what Lion, what Tiger, did euer hurt the man that did them good?

Saint Ambrose writeth, that a dogge [Page 35]all one night howled and bewayled his maister, which was slaine by his ene­mie: whither repairing many the next morning, to view the dead corpes, a­mongst whom the murtherer also made his appearance, whome so soone as the dog beheld, furiously ranne vpon him, in such wise, that the malefactour was detected thereby. Wherefore if a dogge for a péece of bread did shewe such loyall loue to his maister: howe canst thou become so vngratefull, to suffer thy selfe in the lawe of reason and humanitie, to be inferiour to a dogge? If that beast was wroth against him that had slaine his maister: what wilte not thou bee wroth against them that haue killed thy Lorde and Soueraigne? and who are those that haue killed him, but only thy offences? these are euen they that tooke him, that bounde him, that whip­ped him, that nayled him to the Crosse. For all the torments had not bene suf­ficient for this exployt, had they not bene assisted by thine offences. Wher­fore then doest thou not waxe wood a­gainst [Page]these so cruell murderers which haue bereaued thy Lord of his life. Wherefore, séeing him dead in thy sight, doth not thy affection increase towards him, and thy wrath towards sin, which hath killed him, knowing that whatso­euer in this world hee hath said, done, or suffered, was to imprint such an hatred in our hearts against sin, that we should detest it vtterly. To slay sinne he dyed himselfe, and to binde it hand and foote, hath suffered himselfe to be bound vpon the crosse. Why then wilt thou make frustrate all the labours and paines of Christ? Wilt thou run headlong into the thraldome and bondage frō whence Christ hath deliuered thée with the ran­some of his precious blood? why doest thou not tremble and shiuer at the onely name and sounde of sin, now that thou hast séene the extremities that Christ v­sed in the remoouing thereof? what could GOD doo more to restraine vs from sinne, then to set himself before vs bow­ed pitifully vpon a crosse? who durst dis­please God, if hee saw heauen and earth [Page 36]open before him? yet much more it is to sée God stretcht vppon a crosse, then all this. Wherfore, whosoeuer is not stirred with this motiue, there is nothing in the wide world, whereby he may be reduced from the fonde and perillous iourney wherein he is entred.

CHAP. VII.

BUt peraduenture thou wilt say, that all these things before treated of, are right iust, as well y ^e good things as y ^e evil [Page]yet desirest to sée some present motine, which should serue to eleuate thy heart, fithe the thinges obiected to our daily viewe, doo moue vs more forcibly. Of these things also we will giue thée thy glut, and thou shalt haue thy sacietie of that thou desirest. For admit our Lord had kept the best wine and meate fill the ende of the banket, yet for all this, he will not that his seruants should faints with famine by the way: for he know­eth very well if they should be so scan­ted, they cannot continue in their iour­ney. Wherefore he said vnto Abraham, Feare not, O Abraham, for I am thy defendour, and thy rewarde shall be great. By these words two things are promised, one in this present life (as he was his defendour in all things per­teyning therevnto) the other in the life to come, which is the guerdon reserued for him. But howe great the first pro­mise is, and howe many swéete solaces it conteyneth, no man knoweth, but he that hath read the Scriptures dili­gently, which inculketh and repeateth [Page 37]nothing more then the singular prero­gatiues which our Lorde hath promi­sed to his seruaunts in this life. Reade the holy Psalme of the Prophet, Psal 25. Psal. 91. Psal. 18. Domi­nus regit me: Reade, Qui habitat in ad­intorio: Regarde with thy vnderstan­ding, Diligam te domine fortitudo mea: reade the benedictions and the curses of Deuteronomium: finally, reade the new and old Testament, and thou shalt sée apparantly, what fauour and friend­ship is promised to the iust and righte­ous in this life. Heare the verdit of Sa­lomon in his Prouerbes vpon this mat­ter, Blessed is the man that hath found wisedome, for it auayleth more to-pos­sesse that, then all the heapes of golde and siluer, be it neuer so fine and preci­ous: it is of greater price then all the riches of the world: and all that can be wished for, and desired in the heart of man, is nothing comparable therevnto. The length of his daies are in his right hand, and in his left, are riches and glo­rie: his wayes are faire, and his pathes peaceable, and to all them that obtaine [Page]it, and to euery one that with perseue­raunce shall enioy it, shall be happie. Marke then, my sonne, the constitutions and counsailes of God, for this shall be likings and life to thy soule. Then shalt thou take thy iourney voyde of care, and thy feete shall not fayle thée: if thou sléepe, thou shalt not be affrighted: and if thou betake thée to rest, thou shalt haue a quiet repose. This (deare brother) is the solace and quietnesse that the righte­ous haue in their wayes: but consider howe much the wayes of the wicked differeth from this by the sentence of the Scriptures: vnhappinesse, and lucklesse chaunce is euer in their way, neyther know they what it is to tread the steps of peace and tranquilitie. And againe, Ecclesiastick sayth: The path of the vn­iust is ful of lets and obstacles, and at the ende of their iourney for an harbour is addressed for them, hell, darkenesse, and paine. Doth it séeme now good vnto thée to diuert from the way of God, to follow the way of the world, béeing so contrary each to other, not onely in the [Page 38]and, but also in the midway, and at eue­ry step? Which then is the greater in­conuenience, to endeuour through one torment to get another torment, or else with one repose to atchieue an other re­pose? But that thou mayest discerne more clearely the manifolde benefites which presently doo accompanie this good thing, bee attentiue to the pro­mise that GOD himselfe made to the Prophet Esay, to the obseruers of his commaundements, in these woordes, according to the intent of diuers In­terpreters: When thou shalt be (sayth hée) such and such, as I haue willed thée to be, vnwares shall come vpon thée the dawne of bright day (that is the light of iustice) which shall cast out and bannish quite the dryerie darknesse of thy errours and defaultes, and shalt quickely knowe true health, and the equitie of thy well dooings shall stande before thée as a burning lampe, and the glory of our Lord, shall enuiron thée on euery side, that thou mayest be honoured in the sight of God, [Page]and men. Then shalt thou call vpon the name of our Lorde, and he will heare thée, because thou louedst him, and shall say vnto thée, behold me here prest to accomplish whatsoeuer thou canst aske. Then in the middest and déepe darke­nesse of the tribulation and distresse of this life, the comfortable beames of di­uine fauour shall shine vpon thée, and thy tribulation shall be as the middest of the day, for that our Lord had ordeyned, that thy miseries themselues, and thy transgressions passed, should accumulat vnto thée greater felicitie, presenting alwayes to thy minde assured peace, and firme tranquilitie. And in the time of scarcitie and famine, he shall féede thee full, and shall supply thy wantes aboun­dauntly, and thy bones shall be deliue­red from death, and from the flames of eternall fire, and thou shalt be like vnto a moyst garden, and as a fountaine which runneth incessantly: and in thée, that shall be accomplished which many yeares hath bene vnfinished, to the ende thou maiest stand vpon a sure founda­tion, [Page 39]from generation to generation, and if thou wilt endeuour to celebrate my festiuall daies, not contriuing them in foolish delightes, nor in preferring thy will before mine, obseruing careful­ly my will and behest in this voyage: then will I create thée a Lord, and will giue thée such solaces as shall farre sur­passe all pleasures of the worlde. And I will exalt thée aboue the highest turrets of the earth, to a most blessed state of life, wherevnto neither fortune nor hu­maine nature can adde or detract ought at all. And after all this, I wil enstal thée into the precious inheritaunce that I promised to Iacob thy father, which is the benediction of glorie, because the mouth of God hath spoken it. These are the rewards which God promised to his seruantes, of which although some are yet to come, notwithstanding many of them pertaine to this present life. As is that new light and heauenly bright­nesse, that abundance of all things, that assured trust in GOD, that diuine assi­stance to al petitions and demands, that [Page]peace and securitie of conscience, that diuine prouidence and protection, that flourishing Gardein (which is the deo king and garnishment of grace) the fountaine which floweth continually, which is the great plentie of all things, those supernall ioyes which excéede the capacitie of man, that lifting vp of the spirite which cannot be augmented by assistance of humane nature.

These fauours and prerogatiues pro­mised by God, are all the workes of his mercy, the influence of his grace, the testimonies of his loue, the effect of the fatherly prouidence he extendeth to his seruaunts. Vpon euery one of these I could say much more then the breuitie of this volume will permit, for that eue­ry of them would aske a seuerall Trea­tise. Wherefore the iust shall reioyce of all these good thinges, both in this life, and in the life to come, whereof the vn­iust shall be vtterly destitute. By which meanes, marke what oddes is betwixt the one part and the other, nowe that these are so fauoured from heauen, and [Page 40]those in such distresse and penury, for if thou consider aduisedly all things before treated of, & doest weigh the estate and condition both of the iust and vniust, thou shalt finde that the lot of the righ­teous is in the fauour of God, but that of the vngodly in vtter disgrace: The estate of the good and of the euill. these are his friendes, the other his professed foes: these enioy the light, the other dwell in darknesse: these participate in delight with Angels, those with dririe swine: these are frée indeed, and masters of themselues, those other the thrals and vassalls of Satan: these liue in vnitie, those other in deadly discord: the trust and testimonie of a false conscience, de­lighteth these, and to the other mindes, resorteth alwayes the guilt of their fil­thy facts: these with a resolute minde abide the brunt of tribulation in their accustomed place, those other, as light chaffe are repelled by the winde: these depende vpon the anker of hope, those other haue no stay to leane vnto, being obiected to euery chaunce and chaunge of fickle fortune: the prayers of these [Page]are acceptable to the eares of the Lord, the other petitions are odious and exe­crable. The death of these is quiet and glorious with diuine honour, and that of the others troublesome, defamed, fraught with a thousand feares. Final­ly, these liue as children vnder the guard and gouernment of God, they sléepe se­curely vnder the winges and shadow of his prouidence: but the others exclu­ded from this diuine protection, wan­der too and fro as scattered beasts with­out head or guide, thrust out to apparant perils and alaroms of fortune. Then if such and so excellent perfections doo ac­company vertue, what restraynt can there be, why thou shouldest not im­brace so soueraigne a thing? what canst thou alleage for thy excuse herein? To wrangle and say, this is not true, can­not extenuate thy guilt, séeing thou seest howe it is founded vppon the infallible word of God, and testimonies of the scripture. To say these perfections are of small price, auayleth not, for that (as I haue before mentioned) they excéede [Page 41]all that mans heart can wish for. To al­leage that thou art thine owne enemie herein, and that thou doest not desire these good things, is most vntrue: for a man is by nature a friende to himselfe, and humaine will hath felicitie for his subiect, which is the ende of his desires. To affirme that thou hast no sence nor taste hereof, sufficeth not to acquite thy crime, considering thou beléeuest them to be true, although thou canst not taste them. Originall sinne bereaued thée of thy taste herein, but not of thy faith, and faith is a testimonie more sure, more secure, and more doubtlesse, then all o­ther experiences, witnesses, and war­rants of the worlde. Wherefore then doest thou not preferre this testimonie before all the other allegations? Why doest thou not attribute more to fayth, then to thine owne sottish séeming and iudgement? O that thou wouldest de­terminately commit thy selfe into the handes and armes of God, and trust to him onely, how suddenly shouldest thou perceiue in thy selfe the accomplish­ment [Page]of these prophesies, shouldest soone see the greatnesse of these treasures, shouldest sée how senslesse and blinde all worldlings are, which doo neither féele nor fancy this felicitie, and shouldest sée with howe iust reason God commaun­ded vs this kinde of life, saying, Come vnto me al ye that are laden and weary, and I will ease your gréefe. Receiue my yoke vppon you, and then ye shall finde comfort in your soules, for it is full swéete and delectable. God is no de­ceyuer, his promises are neither false nor fraudulent. Which sith it is so in­déed, why doest thou flée or faynt? why doest thou abandon peace and pleasure? Wherefore despisest thou the allure­mentes and swéete soundes of thy Pa­stor? How darest thou to chase vertue from thée, hauing such a gallant super­scription, as héere thou seest grauen by the hande of God? It was much lesse then this, that Quéene Sabba had heard of Salomon, and yet she came from the vttermost partes of the earth, to trie whether those things were true [Page 42]which were reported vnto her. Where­fore then hearing such and so certaine tydings of vertue, doest thou not betake thée to a litle trauell? If thou wilt be as­sured hereof, graunt thy selfe vnto the word of God, and confidently commit thy selfe into his handes, loose thy selfe from the hands which hath wrapt and wonne thée, and thou shalt sée that the same of vertue is lesse then her merite, and that whatsoeuer we haue said is no­thing, in comparison of that she is in her proper effect.

CHAP. VIII.

NOtwithstanding all these assertiōs whereby the condition of vertue is iustified sufficiently, the wicked wil neuer want their wonted excuses and delaies: for as it is written, He that will shake off his friend, searcheth for a cause of quarrell, but in so dooing, he meriteth a gréeuous reprehension and control­ment. Yet some there be which with one onely worde will easily reply to all this, saying, It sufficeth them to amend hereafter, and then to reduce the course of their life to a better order: foolishly feyning to themselues, that it is too hard a matter presently for them so to doo, and that in time to come, they may at­tempt & atchieue this thing with more facilitie: How fond­ly man de­ceiueth himselfe. which is one of the grossest errours wherewith a man may delude himselfe. For if thou mindest so long to procéede and perseuere in that peril­lous path wherein thou art entred, still augmenting the heape of thine iniqui­ties, howe canst thou so easily hereaf­ter [Page 43]forsake it at thy pleasure, thy naugh­tie conditions béeing growne by conti­nuall custome into an habite? Further, if thou continue héerein, euill custome shall bee more fortified and confirmed, and nature shall be corrupted the more, and the diuell shall preuaile and haue more power vpon thée, and shalt be still farther from the fauour of GOD, and consequently more blinde, more encli­ned and plunged déeper in the stinking puddle of iniquitie. Then howe can it be more easie for thée to performe this businesse, béeing increased with these newe difficulties, by reason of thy per­seueraunce in sinne. If euery time that thou doest offend, thou leauest be­hinde th [...] a dayes iourney of thy voy­age towardes vertue: how canst thou more readily frame thy selfe thereunto hereafter, hauing let slip so many daies iourney, as thou hast committed offen­ces? It may well appeare, that by this answere thou art instructed by the fa­ther of lyes and falshood, that after thou hast so long inured thy selfe to vice and [Page]folly, and haste runned a race so farre from the trade of vertue, shall then bee most easie for thée to attayne therevn­to. But among these things, what shall I say of the great power of custome, and of the force shee hath to binde and wrap thée fast in wickednesse? For true it is, that as they which fasten a nayle in a­ny thing, with euery stroke they driue it further in, and yet with other strokes further, and so the more still they strike, the more they fasten it, and waxeth thereby the more harde to pull out a­gaine: In like maner, by each euill fact we commit, vice, as it were with a bée­tle, is more déepely rammed into our minde, where it is fixed so fast, that there can very hardly bee founde any force able to remooue it. Whereby wée sée not seldome, that the olde age of those who in their flourishing yeares were wholely giuen to carnalitie, is often sub­iect to the dissolute manners of theyr youth, yea although they then abhorre them, and nature thereof disclaymeth vtterly: which onely commeth to passe [Page 44]through the tyranny of euill custome. For it is affirmed by Iob, that y ^e bones of the wicked, shall be full of those vices that they vsed in their youth, which shall accōpany them in their graues, in such sort, y ^e vice hath no other end then death, which is the dissolution and extinguish­ment of all mortall things, which onely suffiseth to redresse and cure it. And the cause hereof, is custome cōfirmed, which nowe is growne to nature. For vi­cious appetites, taking such roote in the bones and bowels of their souls, is euen like vnto a ioynt ague, which hauing setled it selfe in the intrailes of a man. is become incurable. The very same thing is shewed by our Sauiour in the resurrection of Lazarus, which had lien dead nowe foure daies, whome GOD called againe to life with such vehement shrikes and cries: notwithstanding hee raised many from death before, with such falicitie, thereby to make it knowne vn­to vs, what a wonder it was that God raised him againe, who foure dayes had béene dead and buried.

This long since, is espied to be in sinne. For (as Saint Augustine openeth this place) of these foure dayes, the first is the delight we haue in sinne: the second is, the consent of minde: the third, the accomplishment in déede: the fourth, the perseuerance in sin: and he that is come to this point, is Lazarus lying dead foure dayes, who cannot be receiued but with the loud lamentations and teares of our Sauiour. If peraduenture this chaunce vnto thée (which very seldome hapneth to any) tell mee what lawe canst thou al­leadge for thy leawdnesse, that God be­fore all worlds hauing loued and created thée, to inuest thée with the glory of eter­nall felicitie, wilt not consume in the ser­uice of him, who hath bin thy benefactor and friend so long, in this short & brickle life that thou enioyest.

CHAP. IX.

BVt some there be so blinde & shame­lesse, that it suffiseth them not to haue sinned all their life passed, but they resolue with themselues wilfully to wallowe therein, vntill they sensibly féele themselues assited with the very sommons of death. O dreadfull time, full of perplexitie, what thinkest thou with this price to purchase the Kingdome of Heauen, and to merit the societie and seate of Angels? Doest thou not sée, that whatsoeuer is done at this time, is ne­cessitie, and not will: is forced, and not frée: is constraint, and not consent: is feare, and not friendship: yet it is loue, not the loue of God, but selfe loue, which shunneth naturally his owne annoy? Doest thou not perceiue, that these things are méere opposite to the rule of equitie, that thou hauing dedi­cated [Page]the whole tearme of thy life to deuotion of the diuell, wilt in the ende require to be rewarded of God? Doest thou not behold herein, euen that which the fiue foolish Virgins did prepare, whereof the Euangelist sheweth, that they were making them readie, when they shoulde haue giuen vppe their ac­counts? Therefore, how canst thou expect any better successe, then thou art admonished by this example, continu­ing in the selfesame carefulnesse? God is mightie, and can inspire vpon vs true repentance when he list: but howe of­ten it happeneth at this houre, and howe fewe they bee, which then repent hartily, aske S. Augustine, S. Ambrose, S. Gregory, and all other Saints, and thou shalt sée howe precisely and scru­pulously they speake in this matter, and thou shalt well perceiue what a madnesse it is, so confidently to commit thy selfe to the mercie of a gulfe, where­vnto so many skilfull Pilots did passe, with such great horrour and feare. To dye well, is a knowledge which ought to [Page 46]be learned all the life before, for in the houre of death, the diseased is cumbred with so many cares and gréefes, that hée hath no leysure to learne to dye well. It is a generall rule, that as the life is of euery man, such is his daath. The death of the wic­ked is con­formable to their life. Whereby it followeth, that if the life bee mischée­nous, the death is miserable, except God for some speciall purpose doth dispose it otherwise. These be not my words, but the Apostles sayings: The ende of the vngodly, shall be like vnto their deserts. For speaking generally, neither doo we looke for a good euent of wicked be­ginnings, nor of good attemptes, cuill happes. Reade ouer the whole Byble, and thou shalt not heare any thing re­peated so oft as this: What séede a man soweth, such croppe shall he gather: and that in the extremitie of death, the vn­iust shall reape the fruite of their tra­uels: and that God will impart to euery man according to his merits: and that the death of euery man, shall be confor­mable to the life he hath lead: and that the iustice of the righteous man, shall be [Page]vppon his head, and the curse of the [...] ­godly vpon his head, likewise with a thousand such like sentences. If all the diuine scriptures might be powred out, to sée what would issue thereof, scarce a­ny thing would appeare more often to our view then this.

Wherefore if thy workes be wicked, and thy life likewise, what other thing can we prognosticate thereof, but that the ende will succéede as the beginning and middle hath béene? What thing else shall we thinke him to gather in the other life, but corruption, who in this life hath sowen nothing else but corrup­tion? Peraduenture as our Sauiour saith, We may gather roses of thornes, figges of furse-bushes, &c. If the house of the wicked, as Salomon sayth, decli­neth towards death, and his foote path leadeth directly to hell, what other port can bee expected after this nauigation, but euen such an ende as where the wall or trée shall fall, which bendeth to one side, but in that part whither it howeth most. For he whose life, whose [Page 47]dooings, whose thoughts hath bene their onely regard to hell, (for that they haue all deserued it) where shall he settle him­selfe after all this, but euen there right? where shall he haue his habitation, if not in outward darkenesse, which al­way walked in inward darknesse? how wouldest thou bring to passe, that in the ende of his iourney he should arriue in heauen, which hath alwayes pursued the beaten pathe that lyeth straight to hell?

CHAP. X.

ANd if on the other side thou say, that great is the mercie of God, which dooth embolden thée in such [Page]that continuing in thy naughtie life, are yet assured of thy saluation. But tell mee, how canst thou offer greater ini [...] ­rie to the mercy of God, then of his be­neuolence to take occasion to displease him? Who taught thee to argue in this sort, that because God is good and gra­cious, shou shouldest haue leaue to be vngracious, and to merit heauen there­by? The holy Ghost neuer taught thée this kinde of reasoning, but rather in this fashion, That God being so good, ought to be honoured, obeyed, & imbra­ced, aboue all other thinges: wherefore sith God is pittifull, it is good reason, that in him I shoulde repose my whole trust and considence that he will pardon my treipasses, bee they neuer so hai­nous, so that I detest them vtterly, tur­ning my selfe vnto him with a sincere heart. But procéeding alwayes in sinne, beléeue it well, hée will not abeare it, yea, hee will condemne thée and hate thée the more, whome hée suffereth so long. Thou canst not gainsay me, that of an hundreth partes of the worlde, [Page 48]there is scarce one repleated with Chri­stians, and that of ninetie and nine which abide in the worlde, none are sa­ned. For as in the time of that great flood, none was saued out of the Arke of Noe, nor out of the house of Rubbe, none escaped of those which dwelt in Hierusalem: so none can be saued out of the house of God, which it his church, euen that which wee call Christianitie. Beholde in what pickle and perplexitie it standeth in these dayes, and thou shalte finde for certaine, that in this whole mysticall bodie from toppe to toe, is scarce any thing entire and sounde. Sette aparte some principall Cittie where discipline taketh place, and range abroad through all Townes and other places, where (as I saide) is no talke of discipline, and thou shalte finde much people, of whome may be veri­fied that which GOD saide touching Hierusalem: Search all the stréetes and houses of Hierusalem, and if thou shalte finde one iust man, for his sake I will haue compassion vpon the Cittie. [Page]Raunge abroad (I say not now through Innes and Markets, for that these an [...] places dedicated to deceit) but through the best Cittizens houses. As Ieremie saith, Listen thy eares to that they speake, and thou shalt hardly heare ou [...] good word, but bitter backbytings and murmure shall fill thy eares. Their dis­order, their oathes, their blasphemie, laughter, discorde, threates, and of all sides, both heart and tongues, debate of earthly drosse and gaine, but verie s [...] ­dome of God and good things, but alto­gither in swearing and forswearing his holy name, which is the memory he hath left vnto vs. The same Prophet saying, Let them be mindfull of me, but not in swearing falsly by my name, i [...] such sort, that by the externall shewe, a man can scarce coniecture whether that nation be Christian or Heathen, except it be by the sounde of belles, and ruthful rage of swearing & forswearing, which ringeth rounde about, wherein they [...] ­céede all Infidels. Then how can the [...] bee vnited to the number of those [...] [Page 49]whom Esay speaketh in this wise, All they that behold this people, shall quick­ly knowe them to bee the plantes to whom God gaue his benedictiō. Wher­fore if suche ought to bee the life of a Christian, that all they whiche beholde him, may soone iudge him so be the sonne of God, in what sort shall we déeme of those which séeme rather scoffers and contemners of Christ, then Christians indéed? If this then be the life of these, what hope can we haue of their salua­tion, according to the generall rule we haue set downe before? All this is spo­ken, that thou maiest perceiue, if God, notwithstanding his so great mercie that thou alledgest, suffereth so many Infidels in the world, and so many euill Christians in the church, and if all these Infidels doo perish, and so many Chri­stians too, he will also be contented that thou shalt perish with them, if thy life be conformable to theirs. But perad­uenture the heauens were fauourable to thy birth, and therewith all the com­maundementes of God were altered, [Page]and the lawe of his Gospell and of his iustice, that for thy sake should me made an innouation of all things. With this pittie he suffered the fall of Angels, and the transgression of our first Parentes, and with them the blot of humaine ge­neration, and destruction of the whole worlde, with the great floud, and the dreadfull desolation of Hierusalem, of Babylon, of Niniuie, and of many other noble Cities and Prouinces.

And with this, he suffred also that hell should bee enlarged, and that daily so many millions of soules should tumble thither: And will he not suffer likewise that thine shall passe the same way, li­uing as disorderly as they did before thée? But thou maiest obiect, that then God was rigorous, and is become now more milde and curteous, and yet with this pitie & clemensie, he hath suffered all that thou hast heard, to the end that thou shouldest likewise feare thy fall, although thou be a Christian, whilest thou art wicked. Sith it is certaine, that fruit­lesse faith is not the instrument of sal­uation, [Page 50]but the chéefest matter of ag­grauate damnation. Perchaunce Gods glorie shall be lessened if thou enter not therein, Or art thou of such power, that God standeth in néede of thée, and must heare with thée perforce? Or hast thou any bill of his hande, whereby hée is hound to bestow vpon thée such passing priuiledges? If the children of Dauid which were priuiledged by the merite of their parents, God did not spare to punish them according to their deserts, for that they offended gréeuously in his sight, so that many of them died misera­bly in his disgrace: whence hast thou this confidence so to assure thy selfe of thy safetie? Thou doest ere, deare bro­ther, yea thou offendest, if thou take this to be trust & hope in God: this is not hope, but plaine presumption: for that which we call hope, is, to beleeue that a man repenting & forsaking sin, God will forgiue him all his gréeuous crimes: but thine is presumption, if thou beléeuest, that persisting still in wickednesse, shalt not faile of thy saluation.

CHAP. XI.

BUt perhaps thou wilt say, that the loue of the world hath thy heart and hands fast hardle with the fetters of her slourishing vanities, and that she it is that maketh thée to decline from thy well attempted voyage. This is the excuse of one that hath not tasted of the spirituall delights, and therefore desireth corporall comfort. The countrey clowne déemeth that there is no brauer Palace any where, then his rude Cottage at home, for that he neuer sawe the lo [...]e [Page 51]furress and curious workemanshippe of Castles and Cities. The litle babe wo­fully wéepeth being descended from his mothers womb, because he is ignoraunt yet howe much this worlde is better whither he commeth to dwell, then the prison where he was pent before. Our first parentes made great reckonings of their villages and houses made with strawe, before they espied the braue buildings framed with timber & stone. To whome wee may well resemble all sensuall men, who hauing yet no taste of spirituall spices, nor prooued their sap, their swéetnesse, their beautie, dignitie, and nobilitie, couet more gréedily the shadowes and shewes of happinesse, be­cause they knowe not any part of per­felt selicitie indéede. For if they had any true knowledge hereof, it were im­possible but that they should vtterly de­spise all sensuall solace. According to this saying of the Prophet Esay, In that day thou shalt detest all siluer and golde, and the idols which earst thou diddest adore, euen as durtie ragges of no reputation, [Page]and shalt say vnto them, when thou art clensed: Depart from me, get you out of my house, in such sort, as men con­temne their false gods, after they know the omnipotent God: So will they re­iect the vanities of the worlde, so soone as they haue a smacke of the true cele­stiall blisse. For (as Saint Bernard saith) at the first taste of spirituall com­fort, all flesh from whence issueth each earthly delight, léeseth his sent. For this is that Syren song, that dreame of Sirces, which hath bewitched so many foretches. But in opening this deceit, mother fraude that lurked earst, appea­reth in sight, which is, that they are not onely ignoraunt of the spirituall blisse, but also of the temporall ioyes them­selues, for if they knew them through­ly, it is not possible that they shoulde like them so well as they doo. For tell me, what is the world and all the iolitie thereof, (if with in corrupt eyes ye rightly regarde it, his guise, his begin­ing and progresse) what is this world I say, other then a heape of wo, a schoole [Page 52]of vanitie, a market of deceit, a bot­tomlesse pit of errours, a prison of dark­nesse, alwaies infested with théeues, a durtie dunghill, a sea of stormy trou­bles? This world (as the Philosopher said) is a barren lande, a stormie field, a wood of thornes, a gréene medowe, full of serpents, a gallant garden, but fruitlesse vtterly, a fountaine of vaine thoughts, a pleasaunt poyson, a fable finely framed, a delighting frenzie: what good things are therein, which bee not altogither false and frayle, and what euill things are incident to it, which bee not tryed to be true? his pur­pose is restlesse, his securitie without safetie, his paines to no purpose, his teares auaileth not, his intent without euent, his hope frustrate, his mirth fat­ned and forced: his dolours to bee true, is order full of disorder and confusion. So that deare brother, take it for vn­feigned veritie, that the quiet and con­tentment which thou expectest, cannot bee had in this world, but to bee rich in the fauour of God, but in contemning [Page]thereof, and in estéeming lesse of earthly things then they be indeede. Go rounde about the sea and land, wander whither thou wilt (as saith S. Augustine) & thou shalt finde wretchednesse euery where, if thou walk not in the way of the Lord, in whom consisteth all felicitie and content­ment.

CHAP. XII.

OTher there be which excuse them­selues, saying: The way of God is very hard, and this is onely because his precepts are repugnant to the inclinatiō of mans appetites. This is one of the principall causes that maketh men to loath this labour, but the authors of such [Page 53]allegations, though they bee Christians, and liue vnder the lawe of grace, they knowe not yet the first letter that stan­deth in the Alphabet of this lawe, nor haue any smacke of this misterie. O thou vnhappie wretche which makest profession to bee a Christian, tell mee I beséech thée, wherefore came Christ into the world? wherefore did he shead his blood? why did he institute so many sacramentes? why sent hee the holy Ghost? what is ment by the Gospell, by grace, by this word Iesu? what doth this renowmed name of Lorde and Sauiour signifie which thou woorship­pest? If thou knowest not, aske of the Euangelist, who sayth: His name shall be Iesu, for it shall be hée that shall saue his people from their sinne. But what is it to be a sauiour and deliuerer from sinne, if by him wee doo not meritte par­don for our offences passed, and grace to excuse those that are to come? For what cause came Christ into the world, if not to helpe vs to saluation? Where­fore dyed he vppon the Crosse, if not to [Page]slay sinne? why did he rise againe after his death, if not to reuiue vs? Likewise, wherefore spent hee his blood, if not for a medicine able to heale thy festered woundes? wherefore ordained hee so many Sacraments, if not for a spe­ciall remedie against sinne? what is she chéefest fruite of his comming and pos­sion, if not to shewe vs thereby the way to Heauen, which before was austere and difficult? Esai. 40. As appeareth by Esaias, where hée saith? At the comming of Mossias, the crooked wayes shall be­come straight, and the bitter passages pleasaunt, large, and wide. Besides all this, why did he send his holy Ghost, if not of flesh to make thée spirituall? and wherefore did hee sende it in the forme of fire, if not to the ende thou shouldest bee inflamed as fire, illuminated, forti­fied, and transformed into himselfe, and should drawe thée to heauen, whence he descended, that he might powre vppon thée the grace and vertue that floweth from him abundantly, thereby to lighten the heauie yoake of sinne, & to mittigate [Page 54]the exercise of vertue, by reioysing in aduersity, by hope in perils, and by ouer­comming in temptations. This is the beginning, the middle, and ende of the Gospell, that as one carnall man and a sinner (which was Adam) made vs all earthly and sinners: so an other man béeing celestiall and iust (descending from Heauen) made vs all celestiall and iust. What other thing did the E­uangelistes write of? What other pro­mises did the Prophet forespeake of? what else did the Apostles preache of? There is no other diuinitie but this: this is the woorde abreuiated: this God wrote vppon the earth: this is the con­summation and abridgement heard by the Prophet Esay, which was verified by the sequell of the great abundance of vertue and iustice, which came into the world immediately after.

Then (deare brother) behaue thy selfe, as though thou wert newly con­uerted to christianitie, and aske of some skilfull Diuine, what thou art charged to doo by this thy Religion: of whome [Page]thou shalt receiue no other aunswere, then that it behooueth thée to bee a good man: which to accomplish, this pro­fession giueth thée comfort and courage, and causeth the carnall man to become spirituall, giuing vnto him the holy Ghost, the better thereby to procéede in the promises. Surely it is a great ouer­sight, that thou bearing the name of a Christian so many yeares, knowest not yet what difference is betwéene the written lawe and the lawe of grace.

In this then consisteth the difference (sith thou knowest it not) that lawe en­ioyned a man to bee iust, not furnishing him with forces necessarie for that ex­ployt, but this also chargeth vs to bee iust and good, giuing grace and abilitie to accomplish this commaundement: therefore for this cause and no other, it is tearmed, the law of grace. That pres­sed vs to battaile, without weapons to fight: willed vs to ascend to Heauen, but gaue vs no ladders to climbe: pre­scribed to men that they should bee spiri­tuall, yet did it not inspire them with [Page 55]the holy Ghost that they might be spiri­tuall. But now it is otherwise, for this lawe ceasing, the other succéeded, which farre excéeded it, by his merites, and by the sacred blood of Christ. And yet as though the olde lawe were not extin­guished, nor Christ come into the world, thou standest Iewishly coniecturing, that of thy selfe thou art sufficient to fulfill and execute this lawe, and so to be iustified. Wherefore euery one that vn­derstandeth this, shall perceiue appa­rantly that many Authors agrée, that this way of the Lord is both swéete and sowre. Psal. 18. For loue of the wordes issuing out of thy mouth, saith the Prophet, I trudge a iourney harde and vnsauery. I am delighted with thy Commaunde­ments, as with the greatest treasures. For this way conteineth in it selfe both partes, that is, it is difficult and easie: difficult in respect of nature, easie in re­spect of vertue and grace: in suche sort, that which was harde by one reason, is light by another. As our Sauiour shew­eth when hée said, That his yoke was [Page]easie, and his burthen pleasaunt: for a yoke and burthen is all ene in significa­tion. But to say it was swéete, decla­reth the facilitie hée had in bearing it here, through the grace which was gi­uen vnto him: So that if thou demaun­dest, howe it is possible that béeing a yoke it should be easie, séeing it is the propertie of a yoke to bee heauie and hatefull? Wherevnto it may be answe­red, that God doth quallifie the gréefe of those that willingly submitte them­selues to the saide yoke, as he hath pro­mised by the Prophet Esay, saying, I will bee as hée whiche looseth the yoke, and as he that vnloadeth a mans necke from the weight thereof. What thing is more woorthie of admiration, then this, that a yoke is easie, and that by God it is made portable, for that him­selfe supporteth the burthen? Where­fore then dooth it séeme a thing incredi­ble vnto thée, that this burthen should be pleasaunt, séeing God dooth helpe to sustaine it? But wilt thou sée both these contrarieties to concurre in one person? [Page 56]Heart what Saint Paule saieth, Rom. 5. We suffer aduersitie in sundrie sortes, yet are we not impatient: wée liue in ex­treme penurie, nor for this are we ouer­commed: wée abide persecutions, yet are we not destitute: we are humbled, yet not confounded: oppressed euen to the earth, yet not reiected vtterly. Now regarde on the one side the loathsome loade of labours, and on the other side, the delight that is therin by the benefite of grace, Esay 40. which yet the Prophet Esay sheweth more manifestly, saying, They which trust in the Lorde shall chaunge their strength, shall ruime swiftly with­out sweating, shall goe still and neuer be weary. Sée héere the yoke made ea­sie by the vertue of grace. Beholde the fury of the fleshe abated and conuerted to the force of the spirite, or to tearme it more rightly, the might of men tur­ned into strength of God. Heare how the Prophet did not restraine himselfe neither from labour, nor from rest, nor from the commoditie he gat of the one and other, where he saide, They ranne, [Page]and it gréeueth them not, they went forth still and were neuer weary.

Wherefore welbeloued brother, thou oughtest not to diuert from this way, though it séeme somewhat harde and sowre, sith God and his grace are thy guides therein. For it is no reason that nature should more preuaile then grace, nor Adam to bee of more power then Christ, nor the diuell to be greater then God: nor yet the custome and long vse of euill, then the habit of vertue and well dooings.

CHAP. XIII.

WHerefore if the causes bee so many, and so great, which of the one part dooth moue thée to change the course of thy life to a bet­ter race, and on the other side, haue no sufficient excuse to withhold thée from so dooing: Tell me, I pray thée, when wilt thou be ready to reuolt from sin? Turne back thy eye, brother, a litle, towards the life that is passed, and consider of what yéeres thou art now: for now is the time, for the houre of enterance is passed, and the beginning to vnloade thy selfe from thy former faultes. Beholde that thou being a Christian, regenerate with the water of holy baptisme, hauing God for thy father, and the Church for thy mother, which God formed and framed with the lawe of his Gospell, and with the doctrine of the Apostles and Euan­gelists, and (that more importeth) with the foode of Angels, and yet thou liuest so loosely as thou were an Infidell alto­gither, and neuer knewest God. But [Page]tell me, what sort of sinne, what follie can bee founde, wherein thou art not culpable? what forbidden trée is there, wherein thou hast not fixed thy eyes? what gréene medowe, where at least in thought thou hast not glutted thy las­ciuious lust? what pleasaunt accident hath béene obiected to thy sight, where­vnto thy desire hath not bene extended? What appetite of thine haste thou not assayed to accomplish? Calling God to thy minde, and how thou art a Chri­stian, what more couldest thou doo, then to haue a fayth without expectation of the other life, and feare of future iudge­ment? What hath thy life bene else then a webbe of wickednesse, a sinke of sinne, a pathe of pleasure, a perpetuall disobe­dience to God? How hast thou ledde thy life hitherto, but as thy appetites hath guided thée, as best fancied thy fleshe, in exalting thy selfe, and in the glo­rie of the worlde? These haue béene thy Goddes, these the Idols wherevnto thou haste kneeled and crowched, whose hestes thou haste fully perfor­med. [Page 58]But in thē meane time, what ac­count haste thou kept with the diuine lawe of God, and thy allegeaunce due vnto him? Perchaunce thou hast estée­med him no more then if hée had bene a God made of wood, for many Chri­stians there bee, which will as easily beléeue that there is no God, as they thinke to offende him scotfrée. For they doo no lesse beléeuing the one, then they woulde if they beléeued the other. What greater wrong, what greater despite may there bee, to so greate a Prince, then thou beléeuing all that the Christian religion instructeth thée, li­uest no otherwise then if it were a fa­ble? But art thou not appalled at the multitude of thy former offences, done without gruge of conscience? Dooth not his omnipotencie cause thee to quake, against whome thou haste com­mitted such enormous crimes? Lift vp thy eyes, and regard the immeasurable greatnesse of that supernall Lorde, ado­red of all the Potentates of Heauen, before whome the whole circuite of [Page]the world lyeth prostrate, in whose pre­sence, all that is created is as light chaffe tossed with euery puffe of winde. And consider what a thing it is, that such a silly worme as thou art, hast so oft pro­noked the wrath of that eternall God. Looke vppon the excéeding greatnesse of his iustice, and the sharpe punishments which hitherto he hath vsed in the world against sinne, not onely in particular persons, but in Citties, Nations, King­domes, Prouinces, and in the vniuersall world: and not only in the earth, but in heauen, and there not in sinners only, but in his owne innocent sonne. Then if this were executed vpon gréene wood, and for the faultes of others, what shall be done in withered wood ouercharged with the weight of proper offences.

Wherfore what can be more vndecent and intollerable, then that suche a vile vermine should delude a Lorde so puis­saunt, that with a becke or a word can detrude thée into the deapth of hell and damnation. Looke in like sort vpon the patience of this Lorde, who nowe so [Page 59]long hath looked for thy returne, as thou hast béene an offendour. If after so long sufferance, thou wilt still abuse this mer­de in incensing him to anger, hee will vnloade his bowe, will emptie his qui­uer, and powre vppon thée the dartes of damnation. View the profoundnesse of his déepe iudgements, whereof wee reade and sée daylie things worthie to be wondred at. We may see a Salomon after all his wisedome, his parables and profounde mysteries of the Cantickles, to forget God, and to fall downe in re­nerence of Idols. We may sée one of the first seuen Deacons of the Church, which were enspired with the holy ghost, not onely became an heretick, but also a teacher, and a father of heresie. Wee may sée day by day many starres to fall from Heauen into the earth, with a miserable fall, to tumble in durt, and to bee fedde with the draffe of swine, which earst at the table of our Lorde, were susteined with the bread of An­gels. Therefore if the righteous for their secret pride, or negligence and ingra­titude, [Page]became so vnmi [...]d full of God, after they had béene his dutifull Ser­uaunts so many yeares: What doest thou looke for, hauing framed thy life to no other trade then to accumulate one sinne vppon an other? Therefore, who­socuer we sée to liue in this sort (as wee haue tolde of before) shall it not bee ex­pedient, that hee shoulde nowe at the length, cease to fill vppe the measure of his iniquities, and to assay to please God, and to deliuer his soule from bon­dage? should it not suffise him, that he hath liued so leaudlie till this houre, ad­dicting himselfe wholy to the worlde, the flesh, and the diuell, and hereafter to imploy himselfe, and to runne out the remnant of his race, [...] the homage and honour of God? is it not néedefull after so long time, and so many iniuries committed against his Diuine Mase­stie, to feare his seuere instice, which the more patiently it beareth with the wicked, so much the more rigorously is reuenged vppon them in the ende? shall it not be reason that hee should bee [Page 60]afraid to lye so long swallowed vppe in the gulfe of sinne, depriued of the grace of God, and to haue so strong an ene­mie as is hee, who of a deare father, through his deserts is become his ad­nersarie and his iudge? Shall it not bée reason, to dread, least the force of long vse bee turned into nature and habitte, making of vice necessitie? How should hee not feare by little and little to fall in­to a reprobate sence: whereunto when a man is come, hee doth not any thing that is acceptable in the sight of almigh­tie God? The Patriarke Iacob said to his father in lawe Labin, Fourtéene yeares are passed since I haue scrued thée, and haue had charge of thy busi­nesse, and now it is time that I attend vppon mine owne affaires, and that I begin to prouide for mine owne house.

Wherefore I pray thée, sith thou hast bin so long, not a retayner, but a daylie waiter to the worlde, not letting slip any oportunitie of this life, which was eyther appendaunt to thy pleasures, or agréeing to thy appetites: shall it [Page]not to be reasonable for thée nowe at the length, to get some commoditie for the soule, and for the bertering of thy estate, in the other life? certainly there is no­thing more short and vnsure, then the life of man. Why then thou prouiding so carefully all necessaries for that which is so momentall and transitory, dost not likewise make some prouision for that which endureth for euer?

CHAP. XIIII.

NOw therfore if it be true as I haue said, I beséech thée deare brother, and charge thée by the precious blood of [Page 61]Christ, that thou remember thy selfe that thou art a Christian, and that thou take all that which our faith teacheth for vn­feined veritie, which plainly prooueth vnto thée, that besides other things thou hast a iudge, to whose eye lyeth open all the actions and moments of thy life, who will come at a day vnwares, wher­in he will exact an account of thée, euen of euery idle worde. This faith telleth shée farther, that a man at his death, is not quite extinguished, because after this mortall life, succéedeth an other, which lasteth eternally: and shat mens foules doo not perish with their bodies, but that the bodies resting, and raked vp in their graues, the soules yet enter into a newe Kingdome, and into an o­ther new world, where such condition and company shal be assigned vnto them as their manner and behauiour hath bin in this life. Héere vnto this faith adioy­neth yet more, that as the rewarde of vertue, so the scourge of vice is so infi­nit, that although the whole worlde were full of bookes, and euery creature [Page]were a Scriuener, the writers woulde sooner dye, and the world be at an ende, before it could bee knowne and treated of particularly, that which each of these doth containe in it selfe. This faith al­so informeth thée, that our debt and du­tie is so great, through our benefites re­ceiued of God, that though the num­ber of a mans yeares did surpasse the sandes of the seas, yet they should be too fewe to acquite himselfe in his seruice towards him. The same faith affirmeth, that vertue is of such passing valour, that all the treasures of the worlde, and all that a mans heart can desire, may in no respect be cōpared the reunto. Wher­fore if such and so great things doo ex­hort vs to vertue, why be there so fewe which imbrace it, and endeuour them­selues to attaine it? If men may bee mooued with any aduauntage or inte­rest, what greater gaine is there? what life more perdurable? If with feare, what sharper punishments? what paint more permanent? If with the bonds of bountious liberalitie, what greater [Page 62]debt haue wee then that which we owe vnto God, of whom wee haue receiued all things? If the dread of dangers may stirre vs, what greater perill can there bee then that of death, whose comming is so vncertaine, whose account so straight? If peace, if libertie, if the gifts of the holy Ghost, and the solace of a su­gred life, be desired of all men, it appea­reth euidently, that all these things are founde more readilie in that life which is lead by vertue and reason, then in that which is ruled by rage and passi­ons, for that a man is a reasonable creature, and not a beast. But if all this bee not regarded, shall it not bee suffi­cient, that for the maintenaunce of veriue, GOD descended from Hea­uen to the earth, and was made man, (who hauing created y ^e world in six dais) imployed thirtie and thrée yeares in this worke, wherein hee also spent his bloud and life. God dyed to slay sinne, yet for all this, wee endeuour to reuiue in our hearts those whom God would destroy with his owne death.

What should I say more? for all rea­sons are sufficient to promote this mat­ter, or to shewe it as it is. Fo, I say, not respecting the crosse onely, but which way soeuer we turne our eyes, we shall finde, that all things doo cry and cal vs to this commoditie, sith there is no crea­ture in the world (if hee bee well noted) but doth inuite vs to the loue and ser­uice of our supernall Lord: in such sort, that looke howe many creatures there be in the world, so many preachers there are, so many bookes, so many voyces, which doo stirre vs therevnto. Where­fore, howe is it possible that so many shriking sounds as héere thou hearest, so many promises & thundring threats, can beare no parte to perswade thée thereunto? What should God, or could he doo more then that he hath doone, ey­ther by promising or threatning, to drawe vs to himselfe, and to withdraw and terrifie vs from sinne? This not­withstanding, béeing of such weight, what shal I blame the boldnesse or blun­tishnesse of men, which beléeuing this [Page 63]assuredly, doubt not to dally out the day in sinne, to sléepe with sinne, to arise with sinne, and to bathe themselues in the beastly puddle of all iniquities: and to doo all this without feare, without scruple, without abridging their sléepe, or abating their fare, as though all their beléefe were a dreame, and the sayings of the Euangelists, fables of Titius the Giaunt, and such like? Howe couldest thou doo more then thou doest, if thou diddest doubt of thy beléefe? sith it is eui­dent, that hitherto onely the shame and feare of the wordle hath brideled thy ap­petites: yet the feare of God cannot restraine thée from satisfying thy sen­sualitie, nor make thée blush in execu­ting thy diuellish deuices. Tell me, blind as thou art, depriued of vnderstanding, béeing in suche securitie and confidence, wherevpon worketh the worme of con­science? whither is fayth vanished, knowledge, iudgement, reason, which onely endued thée with the title to bee called a man? Doest thou not dread so huge, so certaine, so vndoubted daun­gers? [Page]If thou were set at the table and serued with meates, and some man should come vnto thée (thogh a knowne lyer) saying, that the meates set before thée were impoysoned, thou wouldest doubt and dreade to cate it, were the meate neuer so delicate, and he a lyer that did aduise thée: Then if the Pro­phets, if the Apostles, if the Euangelists, if God himselfe doth cry vnto thée, say­ing, Death is in the potte, O wretched man, death dwelleth in gluttonie, which the diuel presenteth before thée, and da­rest thou to receiue thy death with thy owne hands, and to drinke the dramme of thy damnation? What now auaileth this beléefe buried in thy bosome? where is his light, his firmnesse as stéele, his pearsing sharpenesse, séeing none of all these things can extenuate thy sinne?

O madde myser, O franticke foole, made sencelesse by the subtile sleightes of the Serpent, adiudged to eternall darkenesse both within and without, for that thou goest straight from in­warde to outward darkenesse. Blinde [Page 64]thou art, because thou seest not thy mi­serie: sencelesse, because thou doest not perceiue thy perdition: and more ob­durate then the Diamonde, because thou féelest not the weightie béetle of the worde of the Lorde. O wreche wrapte in woe tenne thousande folde, woorthie to be bewayled with no other teares then those whiche shall lament thy damnation, saying, If thou knewest the contentment, the quiet, the peace, and riches that God in this life hath of­fered vnto thée, which nowe are thus shut and kept from thée. O wretched was the dismall day of thy natiuitie, but muche more miserable shall bee the day of thy death, which shall be the verie doore and first steppe to thy damnation. Howe muche better had it beene, if thou haddest neuer béene borne, then to bee tormented for euer? Howe muche better had it béene for thée neuer to haue béene baptised, nor to haue knowne the fayth, sithe there they serue thée to none other ende but to make thy faulte more gréeuous? for [Page]if the reache of reason bee sufficient to cause the guilt of the Philosophers to be inexcusable, for that they knowing God in a sort, did not glorifie him (as the Apostle saith.) Howe muche lesse can he excuse himselfe whosoeuer hée be, hauing receiued the light of faith, and the water of Baptisme, and yearely re­ceiueth the holy Communion, and eue­ry day heareth his doctrine, doth nothing that belongeth therevnto, as the Phi­losophers themselues haue shewed to haue done in their liues? But what shall we inferre of all that we haue said before, if not to conclude briefly, that there is no other fence, no other wise­dome, no other counsell in the worlde, but to reiect all the lettes and intricate cares of this life, and to pursue that one­ly pathe, where is obteyned sure peace and eternall blisse? To this reason doth inuite vs, iustice, lawe, heauen, earth, hell, life, death, and the mercy of God. To this the holy Ghost doth enioyne vs by the mouth of Ecclasiastick, saying, My sonne, employ the flourishing yeres [Page 65]of thy youth to discipline, that in thy age thou maist sucke the swéete sappe of sa­pience, as he which tilleth and soweth, expecteth with patience the commoditie that groweth thereof. Thy griefe & smart shal be very slender, and soone shalt haue a plentifull haruest. My sonne harken to my words, and despise not the aduise I giue thée: put voluntarily thy féete into the fetters, that prudence hath prepared, and thy neck into her yoke: bowe downe thy shoulders, and take her bonds vpon thée, and let it not gréeue thée to bee tyed therewith: Couple thy selfe to her with all thy heart, with al thy forces, and with all thy might: Follow her footesteppes, search her diligently, and thou shalt find her, and when thou hast found her, léese her not againe in any condition. For she shal giue comfort to thy crooked age, and that which earst séemed sowre and tedi­ous vnto thée, shall become swéete and delectable, and her fetters shall bee the foundation of vertue, and her chaines the iewels of glorie. For in that happie life, her bondes are the bulwarkes of [Page]health. Thus much saith Ecclesiastick, by which wordes hée notifieth vnto vs, the great beautie, the delights, the liber­bertie and riches of true wisdom, which is vertue it selfe, and the knowledge of God, of which we héere treate. But if this be not suffient to mollifie thy sto­nie heart, lift vp thy eyes, and looke not to the water of the world, which fléeteth quickly, but beholde that Lord, who dy­ing vpon the Crosse, and sharpely satis­fying for that whiche thy sinnes deser­ued. Where he standeth in that forme as thou seest, with his féete fastened, to stay for thée, and with his armes stretcht abroad to receiue thée, and with his head declining to giue thée at thy comming (as to the prodigall sonne) the swéet kisse of reconciliation. There he calleth to thée (if thou hast the grace to heare him) with so many cryes as he hath woundes in all his bodie. Imagine with thy selfe that thou hearest his wordes in thy heart, sounding in this sort: Turne vn­to me, turne vnto me, O Samaritane, turne vnto me, for I will receiue thée. [Page 66]Thou knowest well that thou hast com­mitted adultery, with all those louers thou lustest after, yet for all this turne vnto me, and I will pardon thée: turne vnto me, I say, for I am thy father, thy God, thy Creator, thy Sauior, thy faith­full friend, thy onely benefactor, thy full and perfect felicitie, thy finall ende. In me thou shalt find rest, ioy, peace, health, truth, wisedome, and all treasures. In mée thou shalt finde the flowing vaine of the liuely water, which chasest thirst away, and lifteth vp a man to life eter­nall. In me thou shalt stand like vnto the trée planted by the riuers side, which yéeldeth his fruite in due and conuenient time, whiche neuer léeseth his verdure, and all that hée doeth shall succéed pro­sperously.

My brother, these are the voyces, the drums, and trumpets, wherewith Gods eternall wisedome, calleth sinners vnto him, if thou wilt harken to this harme­nie, and not lysten to the Syren songes of the subtil Serpent, turne thy selfe vn­to [Page]to God, and amende thy life spéedily, to the which ende this Treatise is addressed. But how this is to be performed, shalbe she­wed in the next vo­lume.