FOr a sorowfull meeting, what more meet, then wordes, and songs, and sobs, and sighes of sor­rowe? speech with mat­ter, matter with action, action with affection, affection with occa­sion should sympathize together. We haue here before our eyes a sad spectacle, a hearse couered with Sable weedes, a cof­fin filled with wormes and ashes; fitting [Page 2]for which obiect, we haue singled out a doleful text, which doth intreat of nought but woes and sorrowes, of death, of teares, of pilgrimage, of the graue. Of death, by the power of sinne triumphing ouer life; of teares, as the fruits of sinne weeping at the power of death; of pilgri­mage, as the lot of life trauelling vnto death, of the graue, as the home of pil­grimes and the house of death.

Then Sarah died. Here is the power of death triumphing ouer life? And Abraham came to mourne for her and to weepe for her, here are the fruits of sinne weeping at the power of death. Then Abraham rising vp, said vnto the Hittites, I am a stranger and a forrenner among you, here is the lotte of life, which is a pilgrimage vnto death. Giue me a possession of buriall with you, here is the home of pilgrimes and the house of death

Then Sarah died. Thence obserue, the ge­nerall condition of mankinde, euen that which the Apostle hath confirmed Heb. 9. It is appointed vnto men that they shal once die. And [Page 3] Abraham came to mourne and weepe for her, thence obserue, that naturall affecti­on towards the dead is commendable in all, Then Abraham said I am a stranger and a forrenner among you. Thence obserue, that all men are but strangers and pilgrims here on earth.

Giue me a possession of buriall with you. Thence obserue, that the dead are to be honoured with buriall and a graue.

That all men must once die, that naturall affection towardes the dead is commenda­ble in all, that all are but pilgrims and stran­gers here on earth, that all after death are to be honoured with buriall & a graue, are the foure sad seuerall subiects, of my en­suing sad discourse, which whiles I ap­plie to this sad spectacle, applie you your hearts to sorrow, your eyes to teares, if not for her that is dead and gone (for she is blest and resteth from her labours) yet for your owne sinnes, which will cause you (will you nill you) God knowes how soone, looke you how well, to follow after her, we will by Gods assistance and [Page 4]your much desired patience, trauish the same ground we haue began to tread, tra­cing the steppes, and following the me­thod in the selfe same order we haue pro­pounded it.

Then Sarah died. Was Sarah the first that died; was not mother Eue with her daugh­ters and her daughters daughters dead long before: if dead, and why not men­tioned? what was rare and singular in Sarahs death, that shee alone aboue all other women, aboue Eue her selfe should deserue to haue the first memo­riall, then Sarah died: surelie I know no other reason but this, that as Abraham was the father so Sarah was the mother of the faithfull, and therefore the holie Ghost vouchsafeth vnto her, that which he denied to other women before her, an honourable mention both of her age, how long she liued and of the tyme of her death, when shee died, when Sarah was an hundreth twentie and seuen yeeres olde, so long liued she, then Sarah died Sarah though the mother of the faithfull, [Page 5]though a holy and religious matrone, though a Saint of God yet then Sarah died.

Whence we obserue the generall condi­tion of mankinde.

It is appointed vnto men that they shall once die, all must drinke of Sarahs cup, the cup is full of one and the same liquour, the liquour is drawne from one and the same fountaine, the fountaine it selfe is pois­ned, and if the fountaine be vncleane the streames will be troubled too, if the root be cankred the branches will wither also, if the head be diseased, the members will be distempered too, Now the head, the roote, the fountaine, as of Sarah so of all mankinde, was father Adam, as there­fore Adam by rushing against the law like a pitcher that dasheth against the wall, sinned not onlie in his owne person, but in his humane nature, not onlie in him­selfe but in his descent, so he purchased the punishment of sinne which is death, not onlie vnto himselfe, vnto his owne person, but vnto others, vnto his humane [Page 6]nature, of which we all partake. For as by one man saith the Apostle, (by one Adam and one Eue, two in sex, but one in nature, one in mariage, one in sinning, the woman seduced by the Serpent, the man induced by the woman, (sinne en­tered into the world, and death by sinne, so by the sinne of one man, death went ouer all men, in whom all men had sinned, Rom. 5.12. But how did sinne enter by one into the world; not by propagation of kinde onlie, as Socinus the hereticke auerreth, but by participati­on of the fault also, and by imputation of the guilt; And how did death enter by sinne? euen as an effect that followeth yts cause, or as a shadowe that accompa­nieth a bodie in the sunne. And how went death ouer all; as a plague grassantis in do­mo, depopulating the citie or a house where it entereth: or like an enemie pervagantis, vastantis, sternentis, raging ranging, destroying, all that he meets with, or like a hidden, poyson that diffu­seth it's venome, vnto euery member, and penetrateth vnto all and euerie part, [Page 7]not onlie vnto a few sicke weaklings, and poore staruelings, but generallie vnto all, high and lowe, rich and poore, bond and free, of what age, sex, condition, degree soeuer; all, men and women, young and old, great and litle, strong and weake, are subiect to deaths stroke whence the poet cryeth out.

True it is indeed that which Saint Austen taught long agoe, God at first created man as a meane betweene Angels and beasts, that if he obeyed the Lord his true creatour and kept his hestes, he might be transported to the Angels societie, but if he became peruerse in will, and offended the Lord his God, then that he might be cast vnto death like a bruit beast; And to this end he placed him in the garden of Eden, the paradise of God, stored with [Page 8]matchlesse varietie, of whatsoeuer de­lightes heart could desire, especiallie gar­nished begnets hacaim, with the tree of life, and begnets haddagneth the tree of knowledge, which two trees he appoin­ted him for two Sacraments, by the tree of life mystically importing that if he con­tinued his obedience, he should surely enioy life, neuer feele nor feare hunger, thirst, sickenes, age, or death, by the tree of knowledge that if he transgressed the commandement, ipso facto In the ve­ry act Gen. 2. moth tamuth dyinge dye. he should most certainlie die, or he should die a double death, the death of the body, & the death of the soule which accordingly hap­pened, as had beene threatned, for in the same houre he began to eate, he be­gan to die, not onelie a spirituall death, which is a seperation of man from God, who is the life of man and the length of Deut. 30. dayes, vnto which and vnto which on­lie the hereticke Socinus restraineth it, con­ceating the death of the bodie to be a se­quele, not of sinne but of nature, euen of [Page 9]of nature vncorrupted, so that the body should haue died though man had neuer sinned, but also and not onelie (as Am­brose erroneouslie thinketh) a corporall death, which is the dissolution of nature, and the soules last farewell vntill the ge­nerall resurrection vnto the bodie which actuall dissolution though instantlie it fol­lowed not, yet was to be seared euerie moment, for as in ciuill iudgements & Iu­ridicall proceedings among men, a man condemned to death, though after his condemnation he be committed vnto the Iaylour, by him cast againe into the dun­geon, and there linger for a long time a dying life, yet in common esteeme he is rather reckoned among the dead, then the liuing, and we are wount to say of him sentence is past, he is a dead man: In the same manner Adam, from the verie day and houre he receiued his sentence of mortalitie gnaphar attah, vel gnaphar thashubh, earth thou art, and into the earth thou shalt returne, though after this, the line of his life were long extended, yet the [Page 10]nature of his life was but a death, because he was dead in doome, for he that makes himselfe lyable vnto punishment, is vn­der punishment si non re, tamen sententia if not in deed yet in doome. And in this respect saieth Saint Ambrose, Adam from the verie act of his eating the forbidden fruite, may be rightly saied to haue died instantlie, because he neuer after liued one day, houre, or moment, wherein he was not obnoxius vnto death, we commonlie say of them that haue suckt in some strong and violent poyson, actum est, he is a dead man, because though as yet he breath, yet stay a little and loe he is stone dead: So may we say of Adam, and as of Adam, so of euerie sonne of Adam, who haue all sin­ned in the sinne of Adam, hic mortuus est, he is a dead man, because though as yet he liue, yet hauing dranke his deadlie bane he must surelie die.

For euer since the sinne of Adam, as soone as man beginnes to liue, hee begins a perpetuall iourney vnto death, And there is none saieth Saint Austen but is nee­rer [Page 11]death at the yeeres ende, then he was at the beginning, to morrow then to day, to day then yesterday, by and by then iust now, and now then a litle before, each part of time (if time haue partes) that we passe, cuts of so much from our life, and the remainder still decreaseth, Austen in Psal. 127. veniente pueritia saith Saint Austen moritur infantia, veniente adolescencia moritur pueritia, veniente iuventute moritur adolescentia, veniente senec­tute moritur iuventus, veniente morte moritur omnis aetas, when childhood commeth on, infancie dieth, when adolescencie com­meth childhood dieth, when youth com­meth adolescencie dieth, when olde age commeth youth dieth, when death com­meth all and euery age dieth, so that looke how many degrees of ages we desire to liue so manie degrees of death we desire to die, aske an olde man where is his infancie where is his childehood? where is his ado­loscencie? where is his youth? shal he not say true if he answere, alas all these are dead and gone, what speake I of ages? e­uerie yeere, moneth, day houre, of our [Page 12]life that we haue liued, is dead to vs, and we are dead with them, what therefore else is our whole life, but a long death. what is euery day therof but as Lib. 1. Epist. 5. Petrarch saieth a degree vnto death, what is euerie moment therof but a motion vnto death? whence it is that In registro. Gregorie compares the life of man vnto a Saylour in a shippe, for as he that sayleth whether he stand or sit, or lie or walke, is alwayes wafted onwards by the motion of the shippe: so it is with vs, whether we wake or whether we sleepe, whether we walke or whether we talke, whether we sit or whether we lie, whether we will or whether we nill, by times moments we are caried forewardes vnto our ende, and as Lib. 3. Epist. 24. Seneca saieth quo tidie morimur we die euery day; for euery day we loose part of our life, & tunc quo­que cum crescimus vita decrescit and our life, euen then decreaseth when it increaseth Paralel with that of Cap. 2. lib. Solil. Saint Austen vita mea quātò magis crescit, tanto magis decrescit, & quanto magis procedit tanto magis ad mortē acce­dit, my life the more it increaseth the more [Page 13]it decreaseth the more it is lengthened the more it is shortned, and the longer I liue the nearer I approach vnto death, For all our life indeede is but a liuing death, or to make the best of it, it is no better then a continuall passage vnto death, wherein one can neither stay nor slake his pace, but all runne in one and the same manner, with one and the same speede, for the short liuer runneth his race no faster then hee that liueth long, both runne alike, both make speede alike, the difference is, the first hath not so farre to runne as the later. It is one thing to runne further, a­nother to runne faster, he that liues long runneth further, but not a moment faster, euerie man hasteneth vnto death alike though one haue a lesser way to goe then the other.

And hence it is that though all men make equall hast yet all haue not the same arriuall vnto death, but some in the mor­ning, others in the noontide, others in the euening of their age, yet all in some one houre or other. For howsoeuer there [Page 14]may be some difference of tyme, yet there is no vncertaintie of the ende, but sooner or later it is certaine all shall come to an end. Iob. 30.23. I know assuredly, saith holy Iob, thou wilt bring me vnto death, which is the house appointed for all the liuing, as a hauen for all shipping. It may be when a ship is come to the mouth of the hauen, a blast driueth it backe againe: but thither it will arriue at the last, so must wee, all of vs, at the gates of death, Omnes (saith the Poet) vna manet mors, & calcanda semel via laethi, Death is the end of al, and once the way of death is to bee troad of all. For as all starres moue from the East to the West, and all the riuers runne into one Sea so all men trauel vnto one home, the house of death, which therefore the 1. King. 2 Iosh. 23.14 Prophet in a pro­uerbiall manner calleth the way of all the earth. And as all trees haue their death, either they fall through the tempests of windes, or rend in sunder through the vio­lence of thunder, or wither away through the length of time: Isa. 51.6. so all on earth are mor­tall. All flesh, saith the Prophet, waxeth old [Page 15]as a garment; a garment whether it bee worne or whether it lie folded in a chest, perisheth at length, if it bee not worne it will soone bee motheaten, if worne, it will soone into ragges. And as the leaues on a thicke tree, some fal, and some grow: so is the generation of flesh and bloud, one is borne, and another dieth: which the Heathen Poet well saw, Homer. though hee himselfe were blind, in that verse of his, which Pyrrhus Eleensis aboue all other ver­ses so much commended:

Tale genus est hominum quale est foliorū, such is the generation of men as of leafes, so one perisheth & commeth to his end, and another riseth vp in his place. And as the leafe buddeth, springeth, florisheth, wax­eth old and withereth away: so man is borne, groweth, florisheth, waxeth old, and vanisheth away; and as many leafes are nipped in the bud: so many men are cut of in their youth, tale quidem genus est hominum quale est foliorum. So then such as a leafe is, such is a man; there is no leafe but [Page 16]at length withereth, and there is no man but at length dyeth; the wind bloweth, and the leafe fadeth, death with his pesti­ferous breath approacheth, and man dieth. Who can stopp the wind that it blowe not? who can hinder death that it come not?

What one writeth wittilie of the Gram­marian is true of euerie sonne of Adam, that being able to decline all other nounes in euerie case, could decline death in no case. there was neuer Oratour so eloquent that could perswade death to spare him, ne­uer Gibber so mightie nor monarch so po­tent, that could withstand him. Nerus the faire Therscites the foule, Selym the cruell, Solyman the magnificent, Crassus the rich, Irus the poore, Damaetas the peasant, Agamemnon the Prince, all fall downe at deaths feet, if he command, we must away, no teares, no praiers, no threat­nings, no intreatings will serue the turne: so stiffe, so dease, so inexorable is death.

There are meanes to tame the most fierce and sauage beasts, meanes to breake [Page 17]the hard marble, and to mollifie the Ada­mant, but not any one thing to mittigate deaths rage, Resistitur, saith Saint Austen, ignibus, vndis, ferro, resistitur regibus, resisti­tur Imperijs Aug. Psa. 121. venit vna mors & quis ei resistit? Fire, water, the sword, may bee resisted, and Kings and Kingdomes may be resi­sted, but when death commeth who can resist it? non miseretur inopum (saith Ber. de conu. cler. Saint Bernard) non reueretur diuitas, Death pitieth not the poore, regardeth not the rich, fea­reth not the mightie, spareth not any.

It is in mans power indeed to say vnto death, Polydor. as sometime King Canutus said vnto the Sea, when it beganne to flow. Sea I command thee that thou touch not my feet: but his command was bootlesse, for he had no sooner spake the word, but the surging waue dashed him: So may man say vnto death when it approcheth, Death I command thee not to come neere me: but no force, death will strike him, and no more power hath man to keepe backe death that it strike not, then the mightiest King on earth to keepe backe the Sea that [Page 18]it dash not. The Sea will haue his fluxe, and death will haue his course, antiquum obtinent, they both keepe their old wont, since the first diuision of waters, the Sea hath beene accustomed to ebbe and flow, who hath euer hindred it? and since the first corruption of nature, death hath been accustomed to slay and destroy, who hath resisted it? Other customes haue and may be abolished, a King may command, and it is done; but what Monarch so absolute? what Emperour so potent, that could a­brogate in his dominions this custome of dying? It was a custome among the Car­thaginians to sacrifice humane flesh, but this custome is abolished. It was a cu­stome also among the Indians to eat mans flesh, but this custome is abolished too, many other inhumane and vnnaturall customes in the world haue beene, but they are or may be abolished. But this cu­stome of dying, there was neuer yet any Prince, seene, read, or heard of, that could abolish. For this condition which the Wise-man saith, Eccl. 14. is the condition of all [Page 19]times remaineth still, Thou shalt die the death, no man, no meanes can abolish it.

No not length of dayes, nor wisedome, nor riches, nor honour, nor beautie, nor strength, no not that excellent grace and gift of holinesse and pietie. The Antient, Fathers and Patriarches before the floud liued very long, some 700. some 800. some 900. yeeres and more, and yet at length of all and euery one the conclusion is, he died. Salomon was a wise King, the wisest that euer was, hee knew the nature of all simples, from the very Hysope to the Cedar, and therefore if any, surely hee aboue others could haue preserued himselfe from death, and yet of him it is said in the end, he died.

Sampson was indued with extraordinary strength, at one time hee slew a thousand with the iaw bone of an Asse, and yet hee dyed. Dauid was a man after Gods owne heart, and yet he died. Moses saw God face to face, and yet hee died. The Prophets were indued with a great measure of sanc­tification, yet the Prophet Zach. 1.5 Zachary ioines [Page 20]them all together in one state of mortali­ty, your Fathers where are they? and do the Prophets liue for euer? What say I the Prophets? Christ Iesus himselfe the Sonne of God, the onely sonne, the Sonne in whom hee was well pleased, more wise then Salomon, more mightie then Samson, more holy then Dauid, and all the Pro­phets, though hee knew no sinne in him­selfe, yet for taking on him the burthen of our sinnes, became subiect to the same condition of mortalitie with vs, and hee dyed also. And that I goe no further, but come home vnto my Text, Sara who liued a hundred twenty and seuen yeares, and was as the Hebrewes mystically expound the numbers, so chast and innocent at twenty yeares old, as she was at seuen, and so faire at a hundred yeares old, as she was at twenty; yet neither her wisedome, not her beauty, nor her chastity, could ought auaile her: but heere you see the conclusi­on is, Then Sarah died.

If any shall obiect, but Enoch and Elias died not, I answere, we know not, I rather [Page 21]thinke they did, and that Elias in his fiery Chariot had his bodie burnt, and Enoch who in his yeeres matched the dayes of the sunne 365. was without paine dissol­ued when God tooke his soule to heauen, or if they died not, yet as Origen saith, the generall is not therefore false, because GOD hath dispensed in some particu­lars, though one or two died not, yet this is an vniuersall truth of all men to bee re­ceiued and duely pondered. It is appoin­ted vnto men that they shall once die.

And is it indeed Heb. 9. appointed vnto men that they shall once die? Is there but one way for all the earth to goe, one doore, deaths 1. Kin. 22 doore, for all the liuing to turne into? how neerely then doth it concerne vs, to bethinke our selues of this way, to fit our selues for this iourney, and euen in this life, to take care for another life, a bet­ter life, eternall life. A man that knowes for certaine hee must resigne his dwelling house, within a moneth, or a weeke, or a day, is very silly and simple, if he take no order for procuring some other habitati­on, Iob 30.23 [Page 22]that when he is put out of his owne house, he may haue another to couer his head in: so will it bee with vs, who inha­bite these houses of clay, whose foundati­on is the dust, Iob. 4. we know for certaine wee shall leaue them, how soone wee know not, perhaps to morrow, perhaps to day, perhaps this very houre, we are silly then and vnprouident, if wee take no care for prouiding other houses. What said Ser. 2. dedi. Eccl. Saint Bernard to his soule, Ad huc domum quidem habes (O anima) sed certa esto, quoniam in bre­ui ( [...]) casura est domus tua, & nisitu pro­uideris aliam, erís pluviae, vento, & frigori ex­ponenda. O my soule thou hast yet a house to dwell in, but be assured thy house will shortly fall and moudre, and vnlesse thou prouide thee before hand of some other house, caytiue, forelorne and naked shalt thou be exposed vnto the winde, the raine, and the cold: alas, who can stand in pre­sence of this stormy tempest; happy ther­fore, thrice happy shalt thou be my soule, if then thy conscience tell thee, thou canst say vnto thy selfe in faith and full assu­rance [Page 23] I know that if my earthly house of this Tabernacle be destroyed, I haue a building giuen of God, that is, an house not made with hands, but eternall in the heauens, 2. Cor. 5.

Againe, is it appointed vnto men that they must once die? Oh that wee could euery one of vs (as we ought) seriously consider this, and daily and duly ponder with our selues, of this theame, We must die. Doubtlesse this vvould cause vs to feare God vvhile vvee liue, that vve might finde fauour at his hands vvhen vvee die. For who so feareth the Lord, it shall goe well with him at the last, and he shall finde fauour at the day of his death Eccl. 1..

2. It would moue vs to imbrace the good, and refuse the euill, remembring that as Precious is the death of the Saints in the sight of the Lord: so euill is the death of sinners Psal. 34..

3. It would abate in vs the plumes of our pride, and humble vs farre below the Niniuites, and Ahab, considering that Earth we are, and into earth we shall returne a­gaine, and why art thou proud O earth and ashes Eccl. 10..

4. It would worke in vs a true remorse and sorrow for our sinnes, laying before our eyes the saying of our Sauiour, Vnlesse you repent also you shall likewise perish Luke 13..

5. It would breed in vs a distaste and dislike of earthly things, Facile enim contem­nit omnia, saith Saint Ierome, qui se cogitat mo­riturum, as Esau when hee was ready to die for hunger contemned his birthright, En morior quid mihi proderunt primogenita, Ge. 25.32 Loe I am almost dead, what is then this birth­right to mee? whereas contrariwise, they that dreame of a long life treasure vp to themselues in earth Luke 12.

6. It would expell out of our hearts rancor and hatred, procure loue and a­mitie, reunite and reconcile vs to our bre­thren, whiles we are in the way Mat. 5 seeing a­greement will be too late when wee are once deliuered to the Iaylor.

7. It would make vs watchfull of our wayes, and learne vs Dauids praier: Lord, let me know mine end, and measure of my dayes what it is, Psal. 39. let me know how long I haue to liue, and why would hee know this? That hee [Page 25]might apply his heart to wisedome, for in the graue there is none, O Lord, that remembreth thee Psal. 6..

8. Lastly, this consideration that we must once die, would be a good motiue vnto vs to learne by time how to die, for that which at length wee must necessarily doe, we will if wee be wise learne by time how to doe, among all other works which we are to doe: to die, though it bee the last, is not the least. Euripides & Seneca. Yet miserable (say two learned Hethens) a thing it is in the houre of death not to know how to die.

Let vs therefore, Christian brethren, a­boue al things labour for this knowledge, whiles we liue let vs learne how to dy, that so when death shall spread his pale colour ouer our faces, we may intertaine it not in horrour; but in honour, not as a losse; but an aduantage, as a doore opening to saluation, not a gate leading to destructi­on. Now if you shall aske me, but how must we learne to die? I will lead you to another of your owne profession, to an ancient Hermite for an answere. It hap­pened [Page 26]that a Marchant man (like your selues) trauelling through a Forrest, espied neere a little Cell, an olde Hermite of whom he was inquisitiue to know what hee made there? The Hermite answered, My sonne I learne to die.

Mar. What needes that, seeing whe­ther thou wilt or no thou must shortly die? Her. And this is that troubleth me, seeing I must shortly die, and yet I know not how to die. Mar. But what is it to know how to die? Her. To know how to die is to eschew euill, and doe good, ac­cording to that of the Psalmist, Declina a malo & fac bonum. Mar. Father, what doest thou eate that thou art so long liued? Her. I eat the best meat. Mar. But who prepa­reth it? Her. The best Cooke, hunger. Mer. What are thy meditations and dis­courses? Her. I call to minde the time past, consider in the bitternes of my soule, how I haue spent my former yeeres, and where I find that I haue done wel I thanke my God, where ill, I sorrow and repent Mer. Art thou rich? Her. I haue more [Page 27]then I would, to wit, this bodie of mine. Mer. What then, wouldest thou die? Her. I would willingly die well that I might ob­taine eternall life. Mar. Canst thou in­struct me how to die well, and to liue eter­nally? Her. I can, vvhat is thy professi­on? Mer. I am a Marchant. Her. If thou vvilt play the true Marchant, and buy the greater for the lesse, the better for the vvorse, looke vp to heauen, behold it is better and greater then the vvhole earth, sell all and buy that; sell thy sins, sell thy pleasures, sell thy profits, buy this one Iewell, and to this end, cast thy bread vp­on the vvaters, make thee friends of the vnrighteous Mammon, by doing good: now the good vvhich the Lord requireth of thee is (as the Mica. 6. Prophet vvitnesseth) To doe iudgement, to loue mercy, and walke with the Lord our God, this doe and thou shalt haue eternall life. Mer. So may I liue as I follow thy counsell: Farewell. Her. Goe in peace.

These and the like good fruits, good motions, good affections, the consi­deration [Page 28]of our end & dissolution would ingender in vs, and happy, yea thrice hap­py, are they that thus consider. And to set you forward herein, consider I beseech you, consider with your selues vvhat you are? vvhat your life is? What you are, the Poet telleth vs, [...]. Man is a sha­dow, a dreame, or a dreaming shadow. What your life is, dailie experience shew­eth, Iam. 4.14 It is a vapour that soone vanisheth, a drie lease carried with euerie winde, a sleepe fed with imaginarie dreames, a Tragedie of transitorie things, it passeth awaie like a post in the night, like a ship in the Sea, like a Bird in the aire, whose tract the aire closeth: concerning the shortnesse there­of, the Heathen Poet could saie, A man is but a man of a daie old, the kinglie Pro­phet said, it was but a span long; Moses and Salomon saie, It is a life of daies; Iob, Esay, Paul, compare it to a bubble, a sleepe, a booth, a shepheards tent, vvhich euerie daie is renewed: yea, they come so farre at length, that they compare it to a thought, whereof there may bee a thou­sand [Page 29]in one day. But what need we these resemblances, sith wee can turne our selues no waie, but something there is which may put vs in minde of our morta­litie. Can you enter your Counting hou­ses, and cast eie vpon your houre-glasse, and not consider that as the houre pas­seth, so doth our life? Can you sit in your chaires by the fire side, and see a great quantitie of vvood turned into smoake and ashes, and not consider vvith the Po­et, Sic in non hominem vertitur omnis homo, So man, no man will suddenlie become? Can you walke forth into the fields, and see how some grasse is comming, some new­lie vvithered, some alreadie come, and not consider vvith the Esa. 40.6 Prophet, That all flesh is grasse, and all the grasse thereof is as the flow­er of the field? Can you feele the aire moue and the winde beat in your faces, and not consider the breath of man is in his no­strils, stop his Esa. 2.22 nostrils, and his breath is gone, and that the strongest tenure of your life is but by a puffe of vvinde? Can you sit on the riuers bank, & not consider [Page 30]that as the riuer runneth, and not retur­neth, so doth your life? Can you shoot in the fields, and not consider, that as the arrow flieth in the aire, so swiftlie doe your daies passe? Or if wee be like Horse and Mule without vnderstanding to con­sider this, yet I am sure wee cannot bee so senselesse, as not to consider that which e­uerie daies light presenteth to our view.

To daie our superiours, to morrow our inferiours, next daie our equalls, one vvhile our friends, another while our foes are taken from vs, and life from them. And maie not the same happen vnto anie one, or euerie one of vs, which happeneth vn­to them, are we more free then they? It is a good comparison of one who likeneth death vnto an Archer that shootes some­time beyond vs, not sparing our superi­ours, sometime short of vs striking our inferiours, somtime at our right hand de­priuing vs of our friends, sometime at our left hand hitting our foes, and now and then it hits the marke it selfe, and wee are dead as well as others.

And surelie if we goe no further then our owne selues, and consider how manie diseases we continuallie carrie about vs, what aches affect our bones, what heaui­nesse our bodies, what dimnesse our eies, what deafenesse our eares, what trem­bling our hands, what rottennesse our teeth, what balnesse our head, what grai­nes our haires. All and euerie one of these, as so many loud alarums would sound vn­to vs, Death is neere: or if none of these did affect vs within, yet how many thou sand dangers doe daily threaten vs with­out, and seeme to shew vs present death? ‘Goe into the ship, Caluin. there is but a foots thicknesse betweene thee and death. Sit on horsebacke in the slipping of one foot, thy life is in danger: goe through the streets of the Citie, euen how manie tiles are vpon the houses, to so manie perils art thou subiect: If there bee an Iron toole in thy hand or thy friends, the harme is readie prepared: how ma­nie wilde beasts thou seest, they are all armed to thy destruction. If thou mean [Page 32]to shut vppe thy selfe in a garden, well senced, where may appeare nothing but pleasantnesse of aire and ground, there sometime lurketh a Serpent:’ The house which is subiect to windes and stormes, doth continually threaten thee with falling on thy head, I speake not of poysonings, treasons, robberies, open vio­lence, of which part do besiege vs at home, and part doe follow vs abroad, examples tending to this purpose are infinite, wher­of I will produce a few, thereby to put vs in minde that the same things may hap­pen vnto our selues, for which cause hard­ly should a moment of our life time bee spent, without due and intire considerati­on of our death. If then we ascend the theater of mans life, and looke about, we shall see some to haue perished with sud­den death Ananias & Sap., others with griefe Eli., others w^th ioy Rhodius Diagoras., others with gluttony Domit. Afer., others with drunkennesse At­tila King of Hunnes., others with hunger Clean­thes., o­thers with thirst Thales milesius., others in their lasciui­ous dalliances Corne­iius Gal., others with ouerwatch­ing M. Atti­lius., others with poyson Phociō Henric. 7. Emp. in a feast by a Mounke.: some by [Page 33]fire from heauen The So­domites, A­nastatius the Emperour an Euty chiāhaer., some by waters M. Mar­cellus., some by earthquakes Ephrasius bish of Antioch., some swallowed vp quicke Coran, Dathan and Abiron., some stifled with smoake and vapours Catulus., some choaked with flies Adrian the Pope, 1159., some with a fall, & sliding off their foot Nestorius the haer., some at the disburdening of nature Arrius haer., some vvith a suddaine fall from their horse Philip K. of France. Iudge Glan­uil of Tane­stock in Deuō, others killed and torne asunder by Dogs Heraclitus Lucian the Apost., Horses Hippolitus, Lions Licus Em., Beares 40. Child., Boares Ancaeus K. of Samos., Rats Hato bish. of Menas. Trag. 3. act 1., and the like. I forbeare to speake of other strange and vnfortu­nate deaths, as that of Milo Crotoniates by the stocke of an Oake which he had desi­red to teare asunder, but his strength fai­ling him, and the clift suddenly closing, was so fast held by the hands, that he be­came a prey to the beasts of the field. And that of Poet Aeschylus, who vncouering his bald pate in the warme sunne, had his brain pan broken by the blow of a Tortuise, which an Eagle, taking his head for a white Marble stone, let fall to breake, that afterward she might deuoure it. And that of Charles King of Nauarre, who for the curing of some aches, hauing his bodie [Page 34]wrapped about with a linnen cloth, that first, had beene well steeped in Aqua vitae, was suddenly and vnfortunately burnt by a candle, which his Physician hauing sow­ed the cloath about him, and wanting a knife to cut the thred, tooke to burne a­sunder, and the thred flaming to the cloth, caught such a suddaine hold of the same, and Aqua vitae, that before any meanes could bee applied, the King in this flame vvas burnt to death. I speake nothing of others who haue vntimely perished: some by one meanes, some by another. I con­clude all with that saying of * Seneca, Eri­pere vitam nemo non homini potest, at nemo mortem, mille ad hanc aditus patent.

What shall I say then? doe so manie things vvithin vs, so many things vvithout vs, so manie things about vs, threaten a continuall death vnto vs? Miser homo cur te ad mortem non componis, cum sis pro certo mori­turus, Then vvretched man thou art, that doest not prepare thy selfe for death, see­ing thou must certainely die.

But alas the diuell doth so deafe vs, the [Page 35]world doth so blind vs, and the sensualitie of the flesh maketh vs so extreamely sencelesse, that we neither heare, nor see, nor feele what is euerie minute likely to befall vs. If wee be young, wee feare not death at our backes, if old, wee looke a squint and see not death before our eyes. But hearken O young man and learne, as the old man can not liue long, so the young man may die quickly: certaine it is thou shalt die, vncertaine when, be­ause thou shouldest alwaies liue readie to die. But if it were so that in thy youth thou hadst a lease of thy life till age, gran­ted by the Father of heauen, ratified by his Sonne, and sealed vnto thee by the whole Trinitie, then perchance there might be some pretence of thy carelesse­nesse. But now seeing euery houre may be the last vnto thee, since euerie moment may dissolue this earthly Tabernacle, since a thousand chances may at all times take thee vnawares, and bereaue thee of thy soule: who but more then mad would not consider of his end, and follow the [Page 36]Prophet Esaies counsell, to seeke the Lord in time, and Salomons precept, to learne wisedome in his youth.

In like manner the olde man, hee will not thinke of death, vntill the time of his death, thinking to become a sudden Saint, who hath all his life time liued a wicked worldling. But hearken thou old man, and learne by the rich man in the Gospell, so he had also cast vp his rest, hee was set­led rich and ioyfull, and deferred to bee godly till he saw occasion, but what saith the Spirit of God: O foole this night shall they take thy soule from thee, this night in middest of thy ioylitie, in the securitie of thy sleepe, suddenly, vnwittingly shalt thou die. O miserable case (saith Saint Austen) when suddenly the senses faile, the bodie languisheth, death readie to burst in sun­der the heart strings, the conscience hea­uie with sinne, the diuell readie to enter­taine thee. Who in this plight would not value a minute of repentance, to a Monar­chy of wealth, and yet we banish away, daies, and moneths, and yeeres, not re­garding [Page 37]the casualtie in the end. I vvish therefore, that old men as they haue a pri­uiledge of yeeres, so also they had the pri­uiledge of foresight heerein; that as they see their bodies bending towardes the earth, so they learne to send their soules towards heauen, and if they should not vvish for their dissolution with Paul, yet they should wait all the daies of their life for their changing with Iob.

Finally, all men almost, both young and olde, rich and poore, of all fashions, and of all degrees, put off this considera­on of death, and neuer thinke or prepare to die, till they finde and feele they can no longer liue. But, O let me beseech you all that heere mee this day, to exempt your selues from this supine and oxe like securi­tie. You know for certaine you must die, you are euerie moment subiect vnto death, a thousand thousand chances maie euerie daie bereaue you of your life? why then esteeme of euerie present daie, as the daie of your death, and make such consci­ence of all your waies, words and works, [Page 38]as if you were presently to giue an account of your life. Qui considerat qualiter erit in morte pauidus & prouidus erit in operatione, He that thinkes alwaies of dying will bee cir­cumspect in his doing.

Thinke therefore, O thinke, and be­thinke your selues of this, and in the depth of these thoughts, prepare your selues for death. Set your houses, yea set your hearts in order, call your soules to account, turne your selues as 2. Kin. 20 Ezechias did to the wall, that is, from the world to God; weepe, weepe, and bewaile your sinnes past, keepe a narrow watch ouer your heart for the time to come, Psa. 38. praie with Dauid, Lord re­member not the sinnes of my youth, and with Saint Ambrose, Lord forgiue me my faults here, where I haue sinned, for else where I cannot be relieued, except I haue my par­don heere; It is in vaine to expect the rest­full comfort of forgiuenesse heereafter. 2. cor. 6.2 Now is the acceptable time, as Saint Paul speaketh, now is the daie of saluation: This world is for thy repentance, the o­ther for thy recompence, Hic locus luctae, [Page 39]ille coronae, hoc cunaeorum tempus est illud coro­natorum, as Saint Chrysostome speaketh, This is the place and time of combating, that of crowning, this of working, that of re­warding, this for thy mourning, that for thy comforting Now God is helping vn­to all men, seeke yee therefore the Isa. 55. Lord whiles he is neere, and post not off till to morrow, for you know not what a daie maie bring forth. It is certaine death will come, but it commeth for the most part like a theefe stealing, and creeping with­out any warning, take heede you bee not taken vnawares. You see the stroke there­of is vniuersall, for if the reuerence of old age, could haue discountenanced it, Me­thushaleth had not died. If strength of bo­die could haue resisted it, Sampson had not died. If maiestie could haue terrified it, if counsel could haue perswaded it, if riches could haue bribed it: Nor Solomon, nor A­chitophel, nor Diues had died. But Methu­shaleth is dead, and Samson is dead, and Sa­lomon, and Achitophel, and Diues are dead, and what is it can free a man from death? [Page 40]Nay, if youth, if beautie, if vertue, if pie­tie, could worke any relent in death, from embracing his cruell hands in mortall bloud: see where youth, where beautie, where vertue, where pietie lye enshrined, whollie now defaced, obscured, eclipsed, and ouershadowed in death. O death, how irrelenting is thy heart! how bloudy are thy hands! how vnpartiall is thy stroake! how generall is thy arrest! oh that the liuing would consider this. And let this suffice, to be spoken of the vniuer­salitie of deaths stroake. Then Sara died.

And Abraham came to mourne for Sarah and to weepe for her.

Whether Sara died in absence of Abrahā; because Abraham is here said to come to mourn for her, as the Iewes affirm she did, & to this end faine, that whē Abraham was on mount Moriah to sacrifice his sonne Isaac, the diuell to make it a reall tragedie, represented the manner of Isaacs offering vp vnto Sarah, wherevpon, say they, shee tooke a conceit and died: and so Abraham returning from the mount, and finding [Page 41]his vvife dead, is said to come to mourne and to weepe for her. But Iosephus hath sufficiently refuted this fancie: For, if Isaac were 25. yeeres old at the time he should haue beene sacrificed, and Sarah after that liued 12. yeeres, how then died Sarah pre­sentlie, when she heard from the diuel her sonne was sacrificed. Or whether hee came from burying his father Therah, as some thinke, whom the Iesuite Pererius would haue to die but two yeeres before, but the truth is that hee was dead 62. yeeres before, for Abraham was now 137. yeeres olde, who vvas borne in the 70. yeere of Therahs age, who liued 205. yeeres in all: so Abraham was 75. yeeres old, when his father died, to that adde 62. so shall wee haue Abrahams age of 137. Gen. 12.5

Or whether he be said to come because he went out of his tent, and entred into Sarahs tent, which is most probable: for though they soiourned together, yet their tents were asunder, as appeareth out of the last verse of the 24. Chapter, as the [Page 42]manner of those Countries was, the men to haue their tents by themselues apart, and the women their tents apart, as heere, among whom we soiourne: vve see at this daie the Turkes haue their houses and their roomes apart, halfe for themselues, and the other halfe for their wiues and women slaues: or howsoeuer it was, wee will not so much inquire from whence he came, as the end of his comming: which was to mourne and weep for Sara, whence we obserue.

That naturall affection is commenda­ble in all: In Abraham, therefore in others, and that not euerie light touch of affecti­on, but a mourning and weeping, an in­ward affection, and an outward action, sorrow within, and sadnesse without, the hearts griefe, and the eie teares must goe together. For weeping and teares with­out, are tokens of loue within. As the Iewes gather from the teares of Christ, which he shedde for the death of Lazarus, Iohn 11. Behold how he loued him, how appeares that, euen from this, And Iesus wept, for [Page 43]then said the Iewes, vvhen they saw him vveepe, Behold how he loued him.

Where loue is, teares are, if extremity of griefe suppress not the passiō of loue. And therefore, God hath made men as liuing, so louing creatures, to the end that they should not be as stockes and stones [...], senselesse and void of affection, but that liuing and louing together, the loue of the one should not end vvith the life of the o­ther; but in token that he loued while hee liued, the suruiuer should accompanie the dead to the graue vvith his teares, and weepe that they two can no longer liue and loue together.

Therefore the custome of some nati­ons, to vveepe at their childrens birth, and to laugh at their death, I hold vnnaturall: for verie nature it selfe (as also Euripides a meere naturalist could tell vs) seemeth to haue ingraffed & inacted this desire into euery one: yea though he dye (for some foule offence) a shamefull death, to haue yet his kinred & his frends to celebrate his funerall, with their teares and lamentati­ons, [Page 44]and the saying of Solon vvas more na­turall and humane:

Then that proud and ambitious vaunt of Ennius, which yet Tully much commen­deth:

It is all one as if he had said, Let no man loue me: for where loue is griefe will sure­ly be, if the thing beloued be taken away. And therfore Abraham wept for Sara here, and Ioseph and his brethren wept for their father Iacob, and Iosephs brethren wept for Ioseph. Thus the Israelites wept for Aaron, & Moses for Samuel: thus all Iuda and Ierusalem mourned, and made sorrowfull songs and lamentations for Iosiah, and Ieremiah the Prophet himselfe lamented Iosiah, and all singing men and women mourned for Iosiah, and behold this is written in the la­mentations. Thus the Disciples wept for Stephen, thus Marie and Martha wept for Lazarus, thus others though neuer so god­ly, [Page 45]neuer so learned, neuer so wise, haue wept, neither could they forbeare, nempe homines, for they are men, and to weepe is humane, M. Antonius the Emperour wee finde vvas a wise man, his surname was Philosophus the Philosopher, and yet hee could not refraine to lament and weepe bitterly at the death of his Tutor, which when some reprehended in him, as vnbe­seeming both the maiestie of an Emperor, and grauitie of a Philosopher, Antonius Pi­us excusing him, said vnto them, Sinite vt homo sit, neque enim imperium, aut Philosophia, hominem ex homine tollit, neque humanis sensi­bus & affectibus hominem exuit: Let him a­lone hee doth but his owne, for neither Soueraignetie nor Philosophie, can take from him the nature of a man, nor ex­empt him from humane passions and af­fections. In likewise 26. Serm. in Cant. Saint Bernard we all know was a holy and deuout man, yet hee could not but weepe for his brother Ge­rardus, and yeelds the reason: For if one Oxe, saith he, finding another Oxe dead, low and roare for it, and in his kinde cele­brate [Page 46]a funerall for the dead: what should man doe for man, whom reason teacheth and affection draweth? Saint Ambrose also was a graue godly man, and yet he weeps for his dead brother, and why not, saith he, bos bouem requirit? doth one Oxe low for another if hee want his mate with whom he was wont to be coupled? Et ego te frater non requiram, and shall not I desire thee againe my brother? shall not I weep for thee, shall I euer forget thee with whom I haue liued so long? No, no, my brother I will remember thee, I will shed teares for thee, and let no man condemne me; for if we shed some few teares, which runne softly like the waters of Siloh, no force, Erunt non doloris ilices sed indices amo­ris, they will not bewray in vs any want of faith, but onely testifie an aboundance of loue. Therefore the Wise-man exhor­teth vs, saying; My sonne powre forth teares o­uer the dead, and begin to mourne as if thou hadst suffered great harme thy selfe: and then couer his bodie, according to his appointment, and neglect not his buriall, make a grie­uous [Page 47]lamentation, Ecc. 28.16 and bee earnest in mourning, and vse lamentation as hee is worthy, and that a day or two least thou be euill spoken of.

But here by the way let vs obserue and learne, that if we may not bee senselesse as Stoicks, but ought to mourne and weepe for those that die a corporall death, what are we to doe! how are we to grieue! what teares should wee powre forth? for those that die a spirituall death? so Luke 15. as did the prodigall sonne, so as did many of the Corinthians whom 2. Cor. 12 21. Paul bewailed, so as did those pleasure-mungers, who though they liued, yet as the Tim. 5.6. Apostle saith, were dead. So as do too many among vs, who neither regard the word of God, which is the life of our soules, nor our own soules, vvhich are the life of our selues. Oh that my head vvere full of water, and mine eies a fountaine of teares, that I might weepe day and night for this supine, foolish, and retchlesse securitie Ecc. 22.12 Seuen dayes saith the Wise-man, doe men mourne for him that is dead, but the lamentation for the foole and the vn­godly, [Page 48]should indure all the dayes of their life: and why for the dead, he is at rest, but the life of the foole and the vngodly is vvorse then death. Let vs therefore doe that saith Saint Chrysostome for our soules, which wee doe for mens bodies, let vs bewaile the losse of our saluation, and let vs lament the death of our soules: for greater is the losse, saith Saint Austen, of one soule, then of a thousand bodies. In so much that the vvhole world, saith Saint Bernard, is not of value enough for the price of one soule. But who is more dead, saith he, then him that carrieth fire in his bosome, sin in his soule, and neither feeles it, nor feares it, nor flies from it? And such is euery vngod­ly man: for him therefore, whether it bee our selues or others, vvee are specially to mourne and vveepe.

And yet in both these, there is a golden meane, vvhich vvee must warily obserue and keepe, to vvit, a meane in vveeping for our sinnes, and a meane in vveeping for our friends; in weeping for our sinnes, that wee weepe in faith and not despaire, in [Page 49]vveeping for our frends, that vvee vveepe in loue and not as without hope. Elegant, to which purpose are those verses of his, vvhosoeuer vvere the author.

Which will vs to weepe for the dead, but yet to obserue a measure in weeping, be­cause dead they are, not whom wee call dead; but onely gone before vs the way vnto eternall life, which wee must follow after. The Prophet Abraham kept this mea­sure in weeping for Sarah here: for when he had wept and mourned for her, (i.) when hee thought he had wept enough; then he arose from the sight of his corps, (i.) hee left weeping for her bodie, and tooke care for her buriall: hee was not senselesse at her death, for hee did that for her, which he did not when he was to sa­crifice his owne and onely sonne Isaac: he [Page 50]wept for her, he vvept not for him, but he kept a meane in his weeping, and there­fore he rose vp and vvent away from her wherein hee shewed himselfe not void of affection, but obseruant of a moderati­on, and this [...], is it which the Lord commendeth, and it is [...] not [...] which the Apostle condem­neth. 1. Thes. 4. I would not brethren, saith he, haue you ignorant concerning them which are asleepe, that yee sorrow not euen as other which haue no hope: How did other sorrow? euen excessiuely, vnmeasurably, immoderately; without meane, measure, or moderation? Some cutting and slashing their faces, some ren­ting and tearing their lockes, their beards, their haire, their attire; some shauing their heads, in token of sorrow: so did the Alex. ab. Alex. lib. 3. cap. 7. Egyptians, Amorites, Milesians and Persi­ans: and do not our owne eies witnes the same in the Greekes, at euerie solemne fu­nerall? how do the silly women dishiuer their golden traces? how doe they disfi­gure their amiable faces? vvhat buffets do they giue their gentle breasts? what piti­full [Page 51]shriekings? what hideous howlings? what heart bleeding sobs? vvhat bloud­drawing sighs doe they vtter? and all for outward manifestation, of their inward contristation: and this excessiue, vnmea­furable, immoderate lamentation the A­postle condemneth; and good reasons there are why wee should not sorrow be­yond a measure whereof the first may bee.

First, Diuina voluntas the diuine vvill, vnto vvhich humane vvill must submit and conforme it selfe. Now nothing is done vvithout the diuine vvill, vvithout it a Mat. 10. Sparrow falleth not to the ground, much lesse a man: vvhy then O base man, do­est thou striue against the pleasure of the most high God? Eccl. 41. vvhy rather saiest thou not vvith Christ, Not as I vvill, but as thou vvilt my Father. Hath a master power of his seruant, saith Saint De fide resur. Ambrose, to lead him vvhether hee vvill? and hath not God ouer man? Placeat ergo homini, saith the Heathen In Epist. ad Lucullū Seneca, quicquid Deo placet, there­fore let man be pleased with the diuine wil and pleasure, and thus resolue vvith him­selfe, [Page 52]that God alwaies calleth him out of this life when he is at his best, if he be good that he turne not euill; if euill, that he wax not worse.

Secondly, Diuina aequitas, diuine right and equity; it is reason and equity that what is receiued vpon bare lending should be re­stored at demanding, Iob. 1. as the holy man Iob confessed. It is lawfull for euery one to re­quire his owne; now, all that we haue, our very life and being is not our owne, Psal. 100 but Gods: he made vs, and not we our selues, hee may with good equity recall vs when hee pleaseth. Wee see how patiently the greatest Basha, either in Port or abroad, yeeldeth his necke to the Bow-string at the hatmaum and command of his King, whe­ther it be right or wrong; for why (sayth he) I am his slaue, my life was long agoe at his dispose; it is through his clemencie that I liued vntill now. And shall wee be lesse obedient vnto our good God, whose slaues we are, whose call is euer iust? Nay, rather let vs be thankefull vnto him that he hath lent vs our life so long. So was Saint [Page 53] Bernard, who after his mourning for his brother Satirus, comforts himselfe, and breaketh forth into this acknowledge­ment, Ingratus diuinitati esse non possum, I may not be vnthankefull to the diuine Maiesty, I am rather to reioyce that I had such a brother, then to sorrow that I lost him, for that was but a gift, this was a debt.

Thirdly, Fraterna vtilitas, the benefit of the departed, for from how many euils is he freed that dyeth in the Rom. 7. Phil. 1. Apoc. 14. Lord? How great the benefit is, Christ sheweth, where he saith, if you Iohn 14 loued me you would re­ioyce because I go to my Father: and if we loue our friend indeed, vve vvould rather reioyce then too much grieue at his death, for hee is departed from vs, he is gone out of the vvorld, hee hath left the earth; but hee is gone vnto Christ, he is entred the Citie of God, the celestiall Ierusalem; Non ergo amissi sed praemissi, saith Fulgentius, therefore the godly deceased are not lost foreuer, but left for a time, not gone away finally from vs, but onely gone to God be­fore vs.

Fourthly, Fletus inutilitas, the vnprofita­blenes of excessiue weeping, for as a moth the garment, a worme the wood, so too much sorrow hurteth the heart; Pro. 25. therefore the wise man as hee exhorteth to weepe for the dead; so he counselleth to comfort our selues againe for our heauinesse, for of heauinesse commeth death, and the hea­nesse of the heart breaketh the strength. Eccl. 18.19.

The last is, Resurrectio generalis, the gene­rall Resurection, we put not off our appa­rall saith Lud. Viues, vnwillingly because we thinke to put them on againe; so nei­ther let vs be vnwilling to lay aside our bo­die which after a while we shall resume a­gaine. And as we greiue not at the setting of the Sunne, because we know it will rise againe. So let vs not sorrow at the depar­ture of a soule, which vvee knovv vvill re­turne againe. For vvhy (saith Tertul in lib. de pati. Tertullian) shouldest thou too impatiently greiue at the departure of him vvith-vvhome thou beleeuest shortly to meete againe! Hee is not to bee lamented, vvho is gone before, hee is onely vvanted for a time, and his [Page 55]want is vvith patience to bee borne. Cur enim immoderatè feras abijsse quem mox subse­queris? For why shouldest thou immode­rately lament his absence, whom thou thy selfe must soone follow after? and all of vs shall surely meet againe at the generall re­surrection. We may indeed, saith S. Ierome, wish for them, because we want them, but wee must not weepe out of measure for them, because they are with God. Loue I grant compells vs to weepe, but faith for­bids vs to weepe immoderately, and ther­fore Paulinus saith, that we may, notwith­standing our faith, performe to the dead the duties of loue; yet we must first, not­withstanding the duties of loue, afford to our selues the comforts of faith. And thus Abraham wept for Sarah here, loue inforced him to weepe, but faith restrained him from exceeding the bounds of moderate lamentation.

You see then that wee are to weepe for the death of our godly friends de­parted, but withall you see how spa­ringe wee ought to bee in weepinge, [Page 56]considering our good hope that are aliue, and their good hap that are dead. And this that dead bodie, or rather that Cadauer, that Caro data vermibus, for her flesh and bones by this time are turned into dust and ashes, which is the present spectacle & ob­iect of our eyes, & which some of you per­haps euen at this instant, so seriously think of, others so much lament for. If it, I say, should receiue againe her soule, vntie her winding knots, breake through her Coffin, & stand vp before you, she would preach & say the same vnto you; weepe, if you please, for my departure, for this shall be a token of your affection; but weepe not too im­moderately, for this will argue your indis­cretion: for know, that though I be de­parted, yet I am not perished, but am ra­ther perfected. I am now in the state of perfection, where I feele no infirmitie, where I am not tempted vnto sinne, but sing a continuall Halleluiah to the Lord. I am now where I behold the glorious Ma­iestie of the Trinity, where I looke on the amiable countenāce of my Sauiour, where [Page 57]I enioy the sweet society of Saints and An­gels, where I haue saciety without loath­somnesse; loue, without hatred; peace, without discord; ioy, without sorrow; e­ternall blisse, without ende or inter­mission: and therefore spare teares for mee, weepe not too much, for the more you weepe, the more you dis­quiet and disturbe me. This would the soule of this dead body say, if it should re­turne againe: but she is past speaking, and her soule returning, vntill the generall re­turne of all. Wee will therefore leaue her to her happinesse, and passe to the third subiect of our sad discourse, which is, the Lot of humane Life; and that is a pilgri­mage on earth. The life of man is a pilgrimage on earth.

Now Man may be said to be a stranger and a pilgrime on earth, either in respect of his soule, which is not of the earth, but by diuine infusion; or in respect of the whole man, which was sometime the Citizen of Paradise, but now a vvanderer vpon the face of the vvhole earth; or most properly [Page 58]in respect of the heauenly Hierusalem, from vvhence, as also from the Lord, the faith­full here on earth (vvhose conuersation is in Phil. 3. Heauen) are strangers as long as they are in the 2. Cor. 5. body. Whence Saint Augustine inferreth, Omnis homo est aduena nascendo, & incola viuendo, quia compellitur migrare morien­do: Euery man is a forreiner by birth, and a stranger by life, because he is compelled to depart hence by death. Therefore said Abraham vnto the Hittites, I am a stranger and a forreiner among you; among them! yea, on the vvhole earth, for his vvhole life was a pilgrimage on earth, as his grādchild Iacob calleth both it and his ovvne; The vvhole course of my pilgrimage (sayth hee vnto Pharaoh) is an hundred and thirtie yeares, few and euill haue the daies of my life beene, and I haue not attained vnto the yeares of the life of my fathers, in the daies of their pilgrimage. Gen. 47. Heb. 11. vers. 13. And Paul, bringing in a whole Catalogue of pilgrimes in the elea­uenth to the Hebrewes, Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, and the rest, at length concludeth of all; All these died in faith, and confessed [Page 59]that they were strangers and pilgrimes on the earth, vpon which Saint Augustine in­serreth, Ipse est Christianus, he alone is a Chri­stian, that in his owne house, and in his owne Countrie, acknowledgeth himselfe to be a pilgrime. Our Countrie is aboue, there we shall be no strangers, but here e­uerie man is a stranger, euen in his owne house. Let no man deceiue himselfe, he is a stranger, Velit nolit hospes est, whether hee will or no he is a stranger. Now if this were the lot of Gods dearest children in olde time, we may not looke for a permanent Citie here.

We see then where we must make the beginning of all godlinesse, euen in deny­ing this world, and acknowledging our selues to bee but pilgrimes in the same Consider, saith the Prophet Isay, Isai 51.2. Abraham your father, and Sarah that bare you; con­sider that Abraham was a stranger and a pilgrim on earth, he had not so much land where he liued as might suffice for the bu­riall of his dead, for in hope of future things he despised the present, and in cer­taine [Page 60]expectation of greater good in the life to come, he little reckoned the good of this present life, a shame to vs that liue vn­der grace, if we come short of him that li­ued before the law. You would thinke him an vntoward sonne, that being sent by his father into forraigne Countries, with this charge, to learne the tongues, to ob­serue the manners, and to hearken after the state of the Land, and be prouided alwaies to returne when hee shall call him backe; yet notwithstanding being out of sight playes out of mind, and sits downe, and e­uen surfets vpon the diuersitie of pleasures, is inamoured with the beauty of Italie, de­lighted with the pride of Spaine, Fraunce must fit him with fine stuffes, England must fit him with new fashions, India must guilt him with gold, Arabia perfume him with sweet smels, as though the world were made to be his minion, but least of any is his Father remembred, and worst of all is his charge of obseruancy performed, what other then can we thinke of our selues be­loued, whome God our heauenly father [Page 61]hath set abroad in this world, as in a for­raigne Countrie to obserue the Heauens, which is the Booke, and the starres which are so many golden Characters of his glo­rie, to view the earth which is a large ta­ble, and the ornaments thereof so many footesteps of his power; and out of all these to learne vnto our selues, that we may be able to declare vnto others the good­nesse of God, and in the end to be willing to returne vnto him againe vvhen he cal­leth. Yet for all this vve can no sooner be out of kenning, but out of caring too, and euen glut our selues vvith vvorldly vani­ties, as if earth, not heauen vvere our e­ternall home. This my beloued is a great negligence, a madnesse, a foolish frenzie, I know not vvhat to call it, but euen a lul­ling of our selues asleepe in the cradle of this vvorlds securitie.

Againe, if vvee bee pilgrimes heere on earth, vve must learne to doe as pilgrimes doe. Quis non, saith Saint Cyprian, peregrè constitutus properet in patriam regredi, What pilgrime doth not make speed to returne [Page 62]home into his owne Countrey, vvho hast­ning to saile homewards, doth not wish for a prosperous winde, that hee may spee­dily imbrace his long desired friends and parents? and vvhat are vvee but pilgrimes on earth? vvhat is our countrey, but Para­dise? vvho are our parents? but the Patri­arches? vvhy make vvee not hast? vvhy runne vve not vnto them, that wee may see our countrey, salute our parents? an infinite number of acquaintance expect vs there: our parents, our brethren and si­sters, our children, our kindred, our friends, that are alreadie secure of their owne immortalitie, but yet sollicitous for our safetie, what ioy, what comfort will it be to see, to imbrace them. What celesti­all pleasures are there without all feare of dying? and with certaine eternitie of li­uing? there is the glorious quire of the Angels, the exultant number of the Pro­phets, the blessed company of the Apo­stles, the crowned troupe of Martyrs, the triumphant societie of the Saints: who whiles they liued here as out of their own [Page 63]countrey were contemned; no men more, but are now heires to a crowne, and sit vp­pon a throne blessed for euer.

Thirdly, are wee pilgrimes on earth? Let me beseech you then beloued as the 1. Pet. 2.11. Apostle besought his beloued, Dearely beloued I beseech you as strangers and pilgrimes, abstaine from fleshly lusts which fight against the soule. For a pilgrime will keepe on still the Kings high way, and neuer turne to by paths: if he sees some quarrelling hee staies not to hearken to them; if he meet a wedding, hee turnes not to accompany them: but keepes on his way still because he is a pilgrime, Ad patriam suspirat, ad patriā tendit, he sigheth after his owne countrey, and hasteneth vnto his owne home, hee carrieth nothing but his food and his ap­parell, he will not trouble himselfe with any other burthen, Retinet quod alimentum, reijcit quod impedimentum, hee vouchsafeth onely saith Plurarch, to carrie his food, but casteth off al other things as hindrāces. Let the voluptuous man who turneth aside out of the way vnto dalliance, let the co­uetous [Page 64]man, who hath euer a great sacke at his backe remember this.

Lastly, if wee bee pilgrimes heere on earth, we haue but few friends and many foes, let vs be then carefull to procure God to be our friend, so assure we our selues, our enemies though they hate vs, shall neuer haue the power to hurt vs, our God whom we serue will protect vs.

And now from this subiect of pilgri­mage, let me lead you to the home of pil­grimes, and the house of death; this is the graue, which as it is the end of all our pil­grimage, so shall it be the period and end of my discourse.

And Abraham said, giue me a possession of bu­riall with you, that I may bury my dead out of my sight. Whence obserue,

That the bodies of the dead are to be so­lemnly buried, and honored with a graue. The iniunction hereof by God himselfe, was as ancient within a little as Adam: for euen in Paradise, presently vpon the fall, the Lord said vnto him, From earth wert thou taken, and into earth shalt thou returne againe. [Page 65]And the God of nature seemeth to haue impressed this sence in all the liuing, for buriall of the dead, thereby testifying their hope of the future resurrection and life. For the burying of bodies is like the sowing of seed, which men commit to the earth, but with certaine hope that after it is once corrupted it will rise againe. And therefore buriall among most men (I speake not of Canibals nor Antropopha­gi: vvho are rather beasts then men, for their guts are their graue) hath euer beene solemnly and religiously practised.

True it is if we looke into the volumes of old heathenish Philosophers, and read songs of Poets, wee shall finde that they generally contemned the respect of buri­all. Among Philosophers looke vpon Dio­genes the Cynicke, that bad his dead body should be cast to the dogs & fowles of the aire, and being answered by his friends, that so it should be rent and torne; hee in scoffe, why then set a staffe by mee and I will beat them away with it: tush (say they) you your selfe shall bee senselesse: [Page 66]why then, quoth hee, vvhat need I feare tearing? of his humour was Memppus and most of the Cynicks. Tullie in his questi­ons Tusculane, recordeth this answere of Theodorus of Cyrene vnto Lysimachus, that threatned him the crosse. Let thy Courti­ers feare that, said he, but as for me I care not whether I rot in the ayre, or in the earth: so also said Socrates in Platoes Dia­logue called Phaedo. And as for Poets, Lu­can in his seuenth Booke of the Pharsalian warre, speaking of the dead that Caesar for­bad should be buried or burned, after hee had deliuered (as his custome is) many worthy and graue sentences concerning this matter: at length hee speaketh vnto Caesar thus:

And a little after,

And so the declaimer in Seneca, Nature giues euerie man a graue, to the ship­wrackt, the water wherein hee is lost, the bodies of the crucified drop from their crosses vnto their graues, those that are burned quicke, their verie punishment en­tombs them. And Virgil who appoints a place in hell for the vnburied: Yet in An­chises, his words shew how small the losse of a graue is.

And hence it is that the heathens obse­quious vnto these Philosophers and Poets, as vnto so many Prophets and Oracles, haue no more esteemed the bodies of the dead, then of the carkasse of an Asse: but some of them haue throwne their dead [Page 68]bodies vnto the foules of the aire, to be deuoured, as the Parthians and Iberians: others vnto dogs, as the Massagites and Hircanians: others vnto fishes, as the Lo­tophagoi and the Ichthyophagoi: others vnto men themselues & of bodies of men, haue made tombes of men, as the Indi­ans, Padeans, Issedonians, and those of Scythia.

Yet we Christians should be no imita­tours of their barbarous inhumanitie, nor contemne and cast away the bodies of our dead, chiefely of the righteous and faith­full, whom the holy Ghost, saith Saint Au­sten, vsed as organes and instruments vnto all good vvorkes. For if the Law will vs, saith Saint Ciuitate Dei. cap. 13. & ad Paulinum. Lib. Tob. ca. 1. Ambrose, to couer the naked: how much rather ought we to interre the dead; and if loue and kindnes moue vs to accompany our friends some part of the way, when they set forwards to trauell in­to farre Countries, how much sooner in their iourney vnto the celestial mansions, whence they shall neuer returne againe? And if the garment or ring of ones father, [Page 69]as Saint Austen saith, bee so much the more esteemed of his posteritie, by how much they held him deere in affection, then are not our bodies to be despised, seeing vvee weare them more neere vnto our selues, then any ring or attire whatsoeuer. And therefore the funeralls of the righteous in time of old, were performed with a zea­lous care, their funerals celebrated, and their monuments prouided, and they themselues in their life time would lay a charge vpon their children and acquain­tance, concerning the burying or transla­ting of their bodies. Iacob at his death charged his sonne Ioseph, to carrie his body vn­to the Sepulcher of his Elders, and not to leaue it in Gen. 47 Egypt, and Ioseph himselfe commanded his brethren that they should remember, and tell their posteri­tie that vvhen they went away into the Land of Promise, they should carrie his bones thither with them. Gen. vlt. Tob. 2. Tobie in bury­ing the dead well pleased the Lord, as the Angell testified. And the Lord himselfe being to rise againe the third day, com­mended [Page 70]the good worke of that religious woman, Mat. 26 Marie Magdalen, who powred the precious ointment vpon his head and bodie, and did it to bury him. And the Iohn 19 Gospell hath crowned Ioseph of Arima­thaea, and Nicodemus with eternall praise, that tooke downe his bodie from the crosse, and gaue it honest and honourable buriall. And what thinke you, might Ia­cob deserue but for burying Rachel, and A­braham for burying Sara here.

Nay the very Gentiles in old time bare such respect and reuerence towards the dead, For at Ve­nice, our English haue no buriall place allowed them but onely the Sea, nor at Zant, but are carried vp int [...] the Morea among Turkes, & at Ligornes and other pla­ces in Italie, an Englishman dying without Confession, is throwne into some ditch and made a prey for the fowles. that they denied not their verie ene­mies the honour of a burial, the humanity of Alexander vnto Darius, of Hanniball vnto Marcellus, of Caesar vnto Pompey sufficiently witnesse the same, and at this day we our selues finde the like respect among the Turkes, though they hold vs base and hate vs liuing, yet (heerein more kinde then Papists) they neither hinder our bu­rials, nor violate our graues, a hidden sence and natural humanity moueth them to this, and what an vncouth thing is it [Page 71]to see a Turke kinde, and a Christian cru­ell. But yet these and the like authorities, proue not any sence to bee in the dead carkasses themselues, but signifie that the prouidence of God extendeth euen vnto the verie bodies of the dead (for hee is pleased vvith such good deeds) and doe build vp the beliefe of the resurrection. We doe not accompany or burie honou­rably a dead Asse, or a dead Oxe, because they shall not rise againe, but this office we performe vnto dead men to signifie that there is one condition of beasts, ano­ther of men: for men shal rise againe with their bodies vnto euerlasting life, a beast shall perish and vanish into nothing. To vvhich purpose the custome vvas in anci­ent time, as Origen obserueth, that the Priests and the Laiety yeerely vpon cer­taine daies, did assemble at the graues and tombes of their Parents and friends, and there render thankes vnto God for the dead that had departed in faith, and pray not for the dead, nor offer any sacrifice for them) but for the like godly and peaceable [Page 72]departure vnto themselues which was wel accepted of God.

Where by the way we may learne this profitable lesson, how great the reward of almesdeeds done vnto the liuing may be, seeing this dutie and fauour shewed vnto the dead is not forgotten of God. And if they were worthily praised and blessed by 2. Sam. 2. Dauid the king, that shewed mercy vnto the drie bones of Saul and Ionathan, how much more praise shall they deserue, and how shall they be blessed, that for Christs sake, shew mercy vnto the liuing bodies of his members? they shall be sure to heere the sweet voice of their Sauiour, saying vnto them, Mat. 25. Come ye blessed of my Father, take the inheritance of the kingdome prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was a hungry and yee gaue me meat, I thirsted, and yee gaue me drinke, I was a stranger and yee tooke mee vnto you, I was naked and yee clothed mee, I was sicke, and yee visited mee, I was in prison, and yee came vnto mee: In as much as you haue done it vnto one of the least of these my bre­thren; verily, I say vnto you, you haue done it [Page 73]vnto mee: Come therefore, I say, take the inhe­ritance of the kingdome prepared for you from the foundation of the world.

Into the inheritance of which blessed kingdome there is no doubt, but this wor­shipfull person, I meane the meeke and vertuous Lady, Anne Glouer (whose fune­rall we here celebrate) is by the free mer­cy of God entred and aduanced: for why, as shee liued, so she died; she liued a Saint, and died a Saint: and precious wee know, in the sight of the Lord is the death of the Saints. In her life shee loued and serued God, and now being dead shee liueth and raigneth vvith the Lord. Of whom I might say much, and of whom I can say little: much what I haue heard, little, yea nothing what I haue seene. For it was not my hap (vvhich I count a great part of my vnhappinesse) either to see her liuing or to heare of her life, before I heard of her death. Her life procured loue, her death, fame: whose swift wings, more swift then the wings of loue, possessed a great part of the world with her death, [Page 74]before it knew of her life. But who could heare of her death, that did not presently inquire of her life; and who hauing beene informed of her life, did not weepe and mourne for her death: so that the hearing of her death, and the hearing of her life, and the weeping and mourning for her death; as in mee, so in many met together. Sparing therefore to speake much of her of whom I knew so little, and yet willing to speake all good of her of whom I haue heard so much, I will so temper my speech, that I vvill neither speake too much, nor too little: not too much, because I knew so little; not too lit­tle, because I haue heard so much.

To begin then where her life began: England, little England, yet farre and greatly renowned England; happie weight to bee borne in so renowned a Countrey, At Padley. and happie Countrey to bring forth so renowned a weight. Of England in that fruitfull and rich shire of Suffolke, rich indeed, in affording the vvorld so rich a treasure: but yet againe most poore [Page 75]in the losse and want of it. Shall I tell you of her Linage? ancient and worshipfull, of her education? vertuous and religious: partly vnder a vertuous mother, but for the most part vnder an honorable & religious Lady. Shall I tell you of her bodily forme and outward feature, so full of grace and beautie, that shee procured many vvor­thy louers. Of her externall carriage and behauiour, so louing, so lowly, so inno­cent; that we may rightly say of her, such vvas her name, such was her nature; a Lambe in name, and a Lambe in nature Conueniunt rebus nomina saepe suis, so name, so nature, oftentimes agree. And yet againe in greatest dangers, perils and feares; in dangers of the Sea, in perils of shipwrack, in feares of men of warre, when (as som­times it happened) all others in her com­panie were all at their wits ends, and knew not which way to resolue to sinke or swimme, to fight or to yeeld: shee alone a woman and therefore by sex feeble, by nature fearefull; yet farre beyond both her nature and her sexe, remained so constant, [Page 76]so bold, Daughter to M. Lamb of Padley in Suf­folke. so couragious, that such as were present in admiration of her stoutnes haue confessed she rather resembled a Liō then a Lambe. But all this is nothing to the internall vertues and endowments of her mind, these alone would require a Panege­rical Oration, & of these I may say, as S. Ie­rome vpon the like occasion said of the holy & religious Matron Paula, Si cuncta corporis mei mēbra verterentur in linguas, & omnes artus humana voce resonarent, nihil vti (que) dignū sacrae ac venerabilis Paulae virtutibus dicerem: So may I say of this vertuous & religious Lady: If all the members of my body, if my eies, my eares, my hands, my feet, were turned into tongues; & euery arct, veine, nerue, muscle, that I haue could vtter humane language, I should come farre short of Annes worthily deserued commendations. Therefore lea­uing this to others who can speak better of them, vpō their owne knowledge then my self, I come frō the manner of her life, to ac­quaint you with the manner of her death.

Of which I againe remember you, that what I speake, I speake not from my selfe, [Page 77]but from the mouth of such who being eie and eare witnesses of her actions and spee­ches, I presume haue informed me nothing but the truth. From the time then of her arriuall into this Countrey, some of you know, & others may vnderstand, that it is now full 5. yeeres and somwhat more, wherof wanting but a little, she liued vvith the right worshipfull and worthy Knight her husband, Sir Thomas Glouer, then Ordi­nary Ambassador in this Port for his Ma­iestie of Great Brittaine, in such great ioy, honor and happinesse; that the greatnesse of her contentment oftentimes procured her griefe; knowing that after a great calme their ariseth a great storme, and ex­cesse of ioy, for the most part ends in griefe and dolour. And so indeed it happened as she suspected; her ioy soone turned into sorrow, and her health suddenly chan­ged into sickenes. The Saturday she eat, she dranke, she was merrie and pleasant, the Sunday morning being the thirtieth of October, Anno. 1608. she sickened; the Wensday following, being the second of [Page 78] Nouember, she dyed one weeke, yea a day, yea an houre, is enough to turne the world vpside-downe.

The soule of man saith the Oratour, before its departure from the bodie, doth oftentimes diuine, and it may bee well thought that the soule of this blessed La­dy, in her last sickenesse had by diuine in­spiration a foreknowledge of her death, in that presently shee deliuered the keyes of her Iewells and the rings from her fin­gers, which in more suspected dangers she was neuer wont to pull off, shee be­spake mourning garments, and tooke care for her funerall, before her Physicians doubted any thing at all of her death, she prefixed a time wherein shee should de­part out of this life, speaking verie strange­ly that Wensday of her death, before the ordinarie houre of supper: which time ap­proaching she desired her honorable hus­band to pray to God vvith her, & for her, which hee did according to the institu­tion ordained for the sicke; which ended, shee made a most diuine and heauenly [Page 79]praier her selfe, wherein shee disclosed the hidden flames of diuine loue, the euident tokens of a liuely faith, the firme hold of our Sauiours passion, for her soules re­demption with such zeale and feruencie of spirit, vttered in words so full of diuinitie, and confirmed with action of eies, hands, and shrilnes of voice, that it gaue admira­ble comfort to all that were present: vpon which her Physician requesting her then Lord & husband to retire himselfe a while, & to leaue her to her heauēly preparation which otherwise by the view of his grie­uous passions might perhaps bee distur­bed, which he hauing done, her Physici­an still remaining, she said vnto him, My heart is at ease, but I can take no rest, and therewithall pulling forth her hand, bid him feele her pulse; which hee told her he found weake, but God was strong and able, if hee pleased to restore her to her former health. O no, quoth she, I feele it pleaseth his diuine Maiestie to dispose o­therwise of me, hee demanded what shee did feele, or where her paine was that hee [Page 80]might administer some remedie, I feele no paine: no paine at all said shee, but with great ioy I goe cheerefully to my Lord and Sauiour Christ Iesus: and therewithall earnestly called for her Lord, where is he? where is my sweet heart? where is he? call him quickly, that I may kisse him before I die: I pray God almigh­tie giue him much ioy, prosperitie and happinesse. His honour being come, and iudging by her perfect voice, speech and memorie, that shee was not neere her death, began to comfort her with trust in almightie God, that shee should haue good remedy and bee restored to her for­mer strength. O no sweet heart, said she, I draw on to a better world, and doe de­sire to goe to my Lord and Sauiour Christ Iesus, into whose blessed hands I com­mend my soule. And then she praied and required praiers for her againe: which en­ded, after many redoublings and repea­tings, Into thy hands, O Lord, I doe com­mend my soule; Into thy hands, O Lord, I doe commend my soule, without any [Page 81]grone or sigh, gently breathing, yeelded vp the ghost.

And thus dyed Anna, as dyed Sarah; Sarah in her old age, and yet so beautifull at a hundred yeeres old, as shee was at twentie, so say the Iewish Rabbins, and Anna in her young age; and yet so vvise and vertuous at twentie yeeres, as if she had liued an hundreth. Sarah dyed in a strange Countrey, farre from her kin­dred and parents: So did Anna from hers. Sarah in Kiriatharba, vvhose founder was Arba, and Anna in Constantinople, whose chiefe founder was Constantine. Sara among the Hittites, and Anna among the Turkes. Then Sarahs husband came to mourne and weepe for her, and Annahs husband is come to mourne and weepe for her. Then Sarahs husband rose vp from the sight of his corps, hee left off weeping, and so should Annahs husband too. And Sarahs husband prouided a place of buriall for her, and so hath Annahs husband done for her. What re­maineth [Page 82]now: but as Sarahs vvas honourably buried, so Annah should be buried too. Vp let vs bee going.