HELS Tor­ments: and HEAVENS Glorie.

Printed by Adam Islip for George Loftus, and are to be sold at his shop in Popes head al­ley. 1601.

❧ To the Rea­der.

THe present carelesse secu­ritie of all men in gene­rall, is like unto our first parents neglect of Gods sacred commandement in Paradice, when the seducing serpent no sooner per­suaded evill, but it was instantly put in practise: You shall die (said God) was heard, but you shall not die (said the divell) was belee­ved. Our eares are dayly acquain­ted with the threatenings of God [Page] denounced against sinners, and yet that sinne, that broad way­path and high way to hell, is at­tempted with a delectation and pleasure, so crastie and subtill are the baits and lures of the de­ceiver, and so void of spirituall wisedome is the soule-murdering sinner. But if due considerati­on were had of the wages of sinne, and the reward of unrigh­teousnesse, and to what bitter­nesse it will turne in the end, it would make us lesse bold to sinne, and more fearefull to of­fend, if wee would take into our companie for a dayly consort, the pale memorie of death, and whereto hee summoneth us after this life. Death in it selfe is very fearefull, but much more [Page] terrible, in regard of the iudge­ment it warneth us unto. Ima­gine to see a sinner lie on his de­parting bed, burdened and ti­red with the greevous and heavie load of all his former trespasses, goared with the sting and pricke of a festered conscience, feeling the crampe of death w [...]esting at his heart strings, readie to make the ruthfull divorce betweene soule and bodie, panting for breath, and swimming in a cold and fatall sweat, wearied with strugling against the deadly pangs: Oh how much would hee give for an houre of repentaunce! at what rate would hee value a daies contrition! Then worlds would bee worthlesse, in respect of a little respite, a short truce [Page] would seeme more precious than the treasures of Empires, no­thing would be so much esteemed as a moment of time, which now by moneths and yeares is lavish­ly spent.

How inconsolable were his case, his friends beeing fled, his sences frighted, his thoughts a­mazed, his memorie decayed, his whole mind agast, and no part able to performe that it should, but onely his guiltie conscience pestered with sinne, continual­ly upbraiding him with bitter accusations? what would hee thinke when (stripped out of this mortall weed, and turned both out of the service and house­roume of this world) hee must passe before a most severe Iudge, [Page] carrying in his owne conscience his enditement written, and a perfect register of all his mis­deeds: when hee should see the Iudge prepared to passe the sen­tence against him, and the same to bee his Vmpire, whome by so many offences hee hath made his enemie: When not onely the de­vils, but even the Angels, should plead against him, and himselfe maugre his will, bee his owne sharpest appeacher: What were to bee done in these dreadfull exigents?

When hee saw that gastly dungeon and huge goulfe of hell, breaking out with fearefull flames, the weeping, houling, and gnash [...]ng of teeth, the rage of all those hellish monsters, the [Page] horrour of the place, the rigour of the paine, the terrour of the companie, and the eternitie of all those punishments. Would you thinke them wise that would dallie in so weightie matters, and idlie play away the time allot­ted them to prevent these intol­lerable calamities? Would you then account it secure, to nu [...]se in your bosome so many ougly ser­pents as sinnes are, or to foster in your soule so many malicious accusers, as mortall faults are?

Would you not then thinke one life too little to repent for so many iniquities, everie one whereof, were ynough to cast you into those everlasting and unspeakeable torments? Why then doe wee not (at the least) [Page] devote that small remnaunt of these our latter dayes, to the making an attonement with God, that our consciences may bee free from this eternall daunger? Who would relie the everlasting af­faires of the life to come, upon the gliding▪ slipperinesse, and run­ning streame of our uncertaine life?

It is a preposterous pollicie (in any wise conceit) to fight against God till our weapons bee blunted, our forces consumed, our lims impotent, and our best spent; and then when wee fall for faint­nesse, and have sought ourselves almost dead, to presume on his mercie. It were a straunge peece of art, and a very exorbitant course, while the ship is sound, [Page] the Pylote well, the marriners strong, the gale favourable, and the sea calme, to lie idle at rode: and when the ship leakes, the Pylote were sicke, the mar­riners faint, the stormes boy­sterous, and the sea turmoyled with surges, to launch foorth for a voyage into a farre coun­trey: yet such is the skill of our evening repenters, who though in the soundnesse of health, and in the perfect use of reason, they cannot resolve to weigh the an­kers that with-hold them from God, neverthelesse, feed them­selves with a strong persuasion, that when their sences are astoni­ed, their wits distracted, their understanding dusked, and both bodie and mind racked and tor­mented [Page] with the throbs aud gripes of a mortall sickenesse, then will they thinke of the weightiest mat­ters, and become Saints, when they are scarse able to behave themselves like reasonable crea­tures? beeing then presumed to bee lesse than men: for how can hee that is assaulted with an un­settled conscience, distrained with the wringing fits of his dying flesh, maimed in all his abilities, and circled in with so strange en­combrances, bee thought of due discretion to dispose of his cheefest iewell, which is his soule? No, no, they that will loiter in seed time, and begin then to sow when others begin to reape: they that will royot out their health, and cast their accounts when they can [Page] scarsely speake: they that will slumber out the day, and enter their iourney when the light dooth faile them, let them blame their owne sollic, if they die in debt, and eternall beggerie, and fall beadlong into the lapse of endlesse perdition.

Great cause have wee then to have an hourely watchfull care over our soule, beeing so daun­gerous assaulted and environed: most insta [...]tly entreating the di­vine Maiestie to bee our assured defence, and let us passe the day in mourning, the night in watching and weeping, and our whole time in plain [...]ull lamen­ting, falling downe upon the ground humbled in sacke-cloth and ashes, having lost the gar­ment [Page] of Christ, that hee may receive what the persecuting ene­mie would have spoyled, eve­ry short sigh will not bee a suf­ficient satisfaction, nor eve­ry knocke a warrant to get in. Many shall crie Lord, Lord, and shall not bee accepted: the foo­lish Virgines did knocke, but were not admitted: Iudas had some sorrow, and yet died despe­rat. For sl [...]w not (sayth the holy Ghost) to bee converted unto God, and make not a dayly lin­gering of thy repaire unto him: for thou shalt find the suddaine­nesse of his wrath and revenge not slacke to destroy sinners. For which cause, let no man so­iourne long in sinfull securitie, or post over his repentaunce un­till [Page] feare enforce him to it, but let us frame our premises as wee would find our conclusion, en­deavouring to live as wee are desirous to die: let us not of­fer the maine crop to the devill, and set God to gleane the re­proofe of his harvest: let us not gorge the Devill with our fairest fruits, and turne God to the filthie scrapes of his lea­vings: but let us truly dedi­cate both soule and bodie to his service, whose right they are, and whose service they owe; that so in the evening of our life wee may retire to a Christian rest, closing up the day of our life with a cleare sunne-set, that leaving all darkenesse behind us, we may carrie in our consciences the light [Page] of grace [...] ▪ and so escaping the hor­rour of an eternall night, passe from a mortall day, to an everlasting morrow:▪

STrike saile, poore soule, in sins tempestuous tide,
That runst to ruine and eternall wracke:
Thy course from heaven is exceeding wide,
Hels gulfe thou ent'rest, if grace guide not backe:
Sathan is Pilot in this navigation,
The Ocean, sin; the rocke, hell and damnation.
Warre with the dragon, and his whole alliance,
Renounce his league, intends thy utter losse;
Take in sinnes flag of truce, set out defiance,
[Page]Display Christs ensigne with the bloudie crosse:
Against a Faith-proofe armed Christian knight,
The hellish coward dares not mannage fight.
Resist him then, if thou wilt victor be,
For so he flees, and is disanimate;
His fierie darts can have no force at thee,
The shield of faith dooth all their points rebate:
He conquers none to his infernall den,
But yeelding slaves, that wage not fight like men.
Those in the dungeon of eternall darke,
He hath enthralled everlasting date,
Branded with Reprobations cole-blacke marke,
Within the never­opening ramd up gate:
Where Dives rates one drop of water more
Than any crowne that ever monarch wore.
Where furies haunt the hart­torne wretch, despaire,
Where clamours cease not, teeth are ever gnashing,
Where wrath & vengeance sit in horrours chaire,
[Page]Where quenchlesse flames of sulphur fire be flashing,
Where damned soules blaspheme God in despight,
Where utter darkenesse stands remov'd frō light.
Where plagues inviron, torments compasse round,
Where anguish rores in never stinted sorrow,
Where woe, woe, woe, is every voices sound,
Where night eternall never yeelds tomorrow:
Where damned tortures dreadfull shall persever,
So long as God is God, so long is ever:

[Page]Of the punish­ments which our Lord threateneth unto such as live a sinfull life.

ONe of the prin­cipall meanes that our Lord hath used of­tentimes to bridle the harts of men, and to draw them unto the obedience of his [Page] commaundements, hath beene, to set before their eyes the horrible plagues and punishments that are prepared for such persons as be rebels and transgres­sors of his law. For althogh the hope of the rewards that are promised unto the good in the life to come, may moove us very much hereunto: yet are we com­monly more mooved with things that bee irkesome unto us, than with such as bee pleasant: even as wee see by dayly experience, that wee are vexed more with an injurie done unto [Page] us, than delighted with any honour, and wee are more troubled with sicke­nesse, than comforted with health: and so by the dis­commoditie of sickenesse, we come to understand the commoditie of health, as by a thing so much the bet­ter perceived, by how much more it is sensibly felt. Now for this cause did our Lord in times past use this mean more than any other, as it appeareth most clearly by the writings of the Pro­phets, which are every where full of dreadfull say­ings and threatenings, [Page] wherewith our Lord pre­tendeth to put a terrour in­to the hearts of men, and so to bridle & subdue them under the obedience of his law. And for this end hee commaunded the prophet Ieremie, That hee should take a white booke, and write in the same all the threatnings and calamities which he had revealed un­to him, even from the first day he began to talke with him, untill that present houre, and that he should read the same in the pre­sence of all the people, to see if peradventure they [Page] would be moved therwith unto repentance, and to chaunge their former life, to the end, that hee might also chaunge the determi­nation of his wrath, which hee had purposed to exe­cute upon them. And the holy Scripture sayth, That when the Prophet had done according as he was commaunded by almighty God, and had read al those threatenings in the pre­sence of the people, and of the rulers; there arose such a feare and terror amongst them, that they were all astonished, and as it were [Page] bestraughted of their wits, looking one in anothers face, for the exceeding great fear which they had conceived of those words. This was one of the prin­cipall meanes which al­mightie God used with men in the time of the law written, and so hee did also in the time of the lawe of grace: in which, the holy Apostle sayth, That as there is revealed a justice, whereby God maketh men just, so is there also revea­led an indignation and wrath, whereby hee puni­sheth the unjust: for which [Page] cause, S. Iohn Baptist (the glorious forerunner of our Saviour Christ) was sent, with this commission and embassage to preach unto the world, That the axe was now put to the roote of the tree, and that everie tree that brought not foorth good fruite, should bee cut downe and cast into the fire. Hee said moreover, That there was another come into the world, more mightie than hee, that carried in his hand a fanne, to win­now and cleanse therewith his flower, and that hee would put up the corne into [Page] his garner, but the chaffe hee will burne in a fire that should never bee quenched. This was the preaching and embassage which the holy fore-runner of our Sa­vior Iesus Christ brought into the world. And so great was the thunder of these wordes, and the terrour which entered into mens hearts, so dreadfull, that there ran unto him of all estates and conditi­ons of men, even of the very Pharisees and Publi­canes, yea, and souldiours also (which of all others are woont to bee most dis [Page] solute, and to have least care of their consciences▪) and each of them deman­ded for himselfe particu­larly of that holy man, what hee should doe to attaine unto salvation, and to escape those ter­rible threatenings which hee had denounced unto them, so great was the feare they had conceived of them.

And this is that (deare Christian brother) which I doe at this present (in the behalfe of almightie God) deliver unto thee, althogh not with such fervencie of [Page] spirit and like holinesse of life, yet that which impor­teth more in this case, with the same truth and cer­tainetie; for so much as the faith and Gospell which S. Iohn Baptist then prea­ched, is even the same now taught.

Now, if thou bee desi­rous to understand in few words, how great the pu­nishment is, that almigh­tie God hath threatened in his holy Scriptures to the wicked, that which may most breefely and most to the purpose bee spoken in this matter, is [Page] this: That like as the re­ward of the good is an uni­versall good thing, even so the punishment of the wicked is an universall e­vill, which comprehen­deth in it all the evils that are. For the better under­standing whereof, it is to bee noted, That all the evils of this life are parti­cular evils, and therefore doe not torment all our sences generally, but on­ly one, or some of them. As taking an example of the diseases of our bodie, wee see, that one hath a disease in his eyes, ano­ther [Page] in his eares: one is ficke in the heatr, another in the stomacke, some o­ther in his head. And so diverse men are diseased in diverse parts of the bodie; howbeit, in such wise, that none of all these di­seases be generally throgh­out all the members of the bodie, but perticular to some one of them. And yet for all this, wee see what greefe onely one of these diseases may put us unto, and how paine­full a night the sicke man hath in any one of these infirmities, yea, although [Page] it bee nothing else but a little ach in one tooth. Now let us put the case, that there were some one man sicke of such an uni­versall disease, that hee had no part of his bodie, nei­ther any one joint or sence free from his proper pain, but that at one time and instant hee suffered most exceeding sharpe torment in his head, in his eyes, and eares, in his teeth, and stomacke, in his liver and heart: and to bee short, in all the rest of his members and joints of his bodie, and that hee [Page] lay after this sort stret­ching himselfe in his bed, beeing pained with these greefes and torments, eve­rie member of his bodie having his particular tor­ment and greefe: Hee (I say) that should lie thus pained and afflicted, how great torment and greefe of mind and bodie (thinke yee) should hee sustaine? Oh, what thing could any man imagine more mise­rable, and more woorthie of compassion? Surely, if thou shouldest see but a dogge to be so tormented and greeved in the street, [Page] his verie paines would move thy heart to take pit­tie upon him. Now this is that (my deare Christi­an brother, if any com­parison may bee made be­tweene them) which is suffered in that most cur­sed and horrible place of hell, and not onely du­ring for the space of one night, but everlastingly, for ever and ever. For like as the wicked men have offended Almigh­tie God with all their members and sences, and have made armour of them all to serve sinne, [Page] even so will hee ordaine, that they shall bee there tormented everie one of them with his proper tor­ment.

There shall the wanton unchast eyes bee tormen­ted with the terrible sight of devils: the eares with the confusion of such hor­rible cries and lamentati­ons which shall there bee heard: the nose with the intollerable stinke of that ougly, filthie, and loath­some place: the tast, with a most ravenous hunger and thirst: the touching, and all the members of [Page] the bodie with extreame burning fire. The imagi­nation shall bee tormen­ted by the conceiving of greefes present: the memorie, by calling to mind the pleasures past: the understanding, by con­sidering what benefites are lost, and what endlesse mi­series are to come.

This multitude of pu­nishments the holy scrip­ture signifieth unto us, when it sayth, Math. 15. Psalm. 10. That in hell there shall bee hunger, thirst, wee­ping, wail [...]ng, gnashing of teeth, swords double ed­ged, [Page] spirits created for re­vengement, serpents, worms, scorpions, hammers, worme­wood, water of gall, the spirit of tempest, and o­ther things of like sort. Whereby are signified unto us (as in a figure) the multitude and dread­full terrour of the most horrible torments and paines that be in that cur­sed place. There shall bee likewise darkenesse inward and outward, both of bo­die and soule, farre more obscure than the darke­nesse of Aegypt, which was to bee felt even with [Page] hands, Exo. 20. There shall bee fire also, not as this fire here, that tor­menteth a little, and shortly endeth, but such a fire as that place requi­reth, which tormenteth exceedingly, and shall ne­ver make an end of that tormenting. This beeing true, what greater wonder can there bee, than that they which beleeve and confesse this for truth, should live with such most straunge negligence and carelesnesse as they doe? What travell and paines would not a man willingly [Page] take to escape even one onely day, yea, one houre, the very least of these tor­ments? and wherefore doe they not then, to escape the everlastingnesse of so great paines and horrible torments, endure so little a travell, as to follow the ex­ercise of vertue. Surely, the consideration of this mat­ter were able to make any sinfull soule to feare and tremble, in case it were deepely regarded.

And if amongst so great number of paines, there were any manner hope of end or release, it would be [Page] some kind of comfort: but alas it is not so, for there the gates are fast shut up from all expectation of a­ny maner of ease or hope. In all kind of paines and calamities that bee in this world, there is alwais some gap lying open, whereby the patient may receive some kind of comfort: sometimes reason, some­times the weather, some­times his friends, some­times the hearing that o­thers are troubled with the very same disease, & some­times (at the least) the hope of an end may cheare him [Page] somewhat: onely in these most horrible pains & mi­series that be in hell, all the wayes are shut up in such sort, and all the havens of comfort so embarred, that the miserable sinner cannot hope for remedie on any side, neither of heaven, nor of earth, neither of the time past, or present, or of the time to come, or of any other means. The damned soules thinke, that all men are shooting darts at them, and that all creatures have conspired against them, & that even they themselves are cruell against them­selves. [Page] This is that distresse whereof the sinners doe lament by the Prophet, saying: The sorrowes of hell have compassed mee round about, and the snares of death hath besieged me: For on which side soever they looke or turne their eyes, they doe continually be­hold occasions of sorrow and greefe, and none at all of any ease or comfort. The wise virgins (sayth the E­vangelist) that stood readie prepared at the gate of the bridegroom, entred in, & the gate was foorthwith locked fast. O locking everlasting, [Page] ô enclosure immortall, ô gate of all goodnes, which shall never any more bee opened againe. As if hee had said more plainely, the gate of pardon, of mercie, of comfort, of grace, of in­tercession, of hope, and of all other goodnesse, is shut up for ever and ever. Six dayes and no more was Manna to bee gathered, but the seventh day, which was the Sabboth day, was there none to bee found: and therefore shall hee fast forever, that hath not in due time made his provisi­on aforehand. The slug­gard [Page] (sayth the wise man) will not till his ground for feare of cold, and therefore shall hee beg his bread in summer, and no man shall give him to eat. And in a­nother place hee sayth: He that gathereth in summer, is a wise sonne, but hee that giveth himselfe to sleeping at that season, is the sonne of confusion. For what con­fusion can there be greater than that which that mise­rable covetous rich man suffereth, who with a fewe crums of bread that fell from his table, might have purchased to himselfe a­bundance [Page] of everlasting felicitie, and glorie in the kingdome of heaven? But because he would not give so small a thing, he came to such an extreame necessitie that hee begged (yea, and shall for ever beg in vaine) onely one drop of water, and shall never obtaine it. Who is not mooved with that request of that unfor­tunate damned person, who cried, O father A­braham have compassion on me, and send down Lazarus vnto mee, that hee may dip the tip of his finger in wa­ter, and touch my tongue, [Page] for th [...]se horrible flames doe torment mee exceedingly. What smaller request could there bee desired than this? Hee durst not request so much as one cup of water, neither, that La­zarus should put his whole hand into the water, nor yet (which is more to bee wondered at) did he request so much as the whole fin­ger, but onely the tip of it, that it might but touch his tongue; and yet even this alonely would not be gran­ted unto him. Whereby thou maiest perceive, how fast the gate of all consola­tion [Page] is shut up, and how universall that interdict and excommunication is, that is there laid upon the damned, sith this rich glut­ton could not obtaine so much as this small request. So that wheresoever the damned persons doe turne their eyes, and on which side soever they stretch their hands, they shall not find any manner of com­fort, bee it never so small. And as hee that is in the sea choaked, and almost drowned under the water, not finding any stay wher­upon to set his foot, stret­cheth [Page] foorth his hands of­tentimes on every side in vaine (because all that hee graspeth after, is thinne and liquid water, which de­ceives him) even so shall it fare with the damned per­sons, when they shall bee drowned in that deepe sea of so many miseries, where they shall strive and strug▪gle alwayes with death, without finding any suc­cour or place of stay, whereupon they may rest themselves. Now this is one of the greatest paines wherewith they be tormen­ted in that cursed place: [Page] for if these torments shold have their continuance li [...] mitted but for a certaine time, though it were for a thousand, yea, a hundred thousand millions of years, yet even this would bee some little comfort unto them, for nothing is per­fectly great, in case it have an end: But alas, they have not so much as this poore and miserable comfort: but contrariwise, their paines are equall in continuance with the eternity of almigh­tie God, and the lasting of their miserie with the eter­nitie of Gods glorie. As [Page] long as almightie God shall live, so long shall they die: and when Al­mightie God shall cease to be God, then shall they also cease to be as they are. O deadly life, ô immortall death! I know not whether I may truly tearme thee, either life or death: for if thou be life, why dost thou kill? And if thou be death, why doest thou endure? Wherefore I will call thee neither the one, nor the other, for so much as in both of them there is con­tained something that is good: as in life there is rest, [Page] and in death there is an end (which is a great com­fort to the afflicted) but thou hast neither rest not end. What art thou then? Marry, thou art the worst of life, and the worst of death; fo [...] of death thou hast the torment, without any end, and of life thou hast t [...]e continuance with­out any rest O bitter com­position, ô unsavorie pur­gation of our Lords cup! of the which, all the sinners of the earth shall drinke their part.

Now in this continuance in this eternitie, I would [Page] wish that thou (my deare Christian brother) wouldst fixe the eyes of thy consi­deration a little while: and that as the clean beast che­weth the cud, even so thou wouldest weigh this point within thy selfe with great deliberation. And to▪ the intent thou maiest do it the better, consider a little the paines that a sicke man abi­deth in one evill night, es­pecially if he be vexed with any vehement greefe, or sharpe disease. Marke how oft hee tumbleth & tosseth in his bed, what disquietnes he hath, how long and te­dious [Page] one night seemeth unto him, how duly hee counteth all the houres of the clocke, and how long he deemeth each houre of them to bee, how hee pas­seth the time in wishing for the dawning of the day; which notwithstanding, is like to helpe him, little to­wards the curing of his dis­ease. If this then bee ac­counted so great a tor­ment, what torment shall that bee (trowyee) in that everlasting night in hell, which hath no morning, nor so much as any hope of any dawning of the day? [Page] O darknesse most obscure! ô night everlasting! ô night accursed even by the mouth of almightie God & all his Saints! That one shall wish for light, and shall never see it, neither shall the brightnesse of the morning arise any more. Consider then what a kind of tor­ment shall that bee, to live everlastingly in such a night as this is, lying not in a soft bed (as the sicke man dooth) but in a hote burning furnace, foming out such terrible raging flames. What shoulders shall be able to abide those [Page] horrible heats. If it seeme to us as a thing intollerable to have onely some part of our feet standing upon a panne of burning coales, for the space of repeating the Lords prayer, What shall it bee (thinke you) to stand bodie and soule bur­ning in the midst of those everlasting hot raging fires in hell, in comparison of which, the fires of this world are but painted fires. Is there any wit or judge­ment in this world? Have men their right sences? do they understand what these words import? or are they [Page] peradventure persuaded, that these are onely the fa­bles of Poets? or doe they thinke, that this appertai­neth not to them, orels that it was onely meant for o­thers? None of all this can they say, for so much as our faith assureth us most cer­tainely herein. And our Saviour Christ himselfe, who is everlasting trueth, crieth out in his Gospell, saying, Heaven and earth shall faile, but my word shall not faile.

Of this miserie there followeth another as great as it, which is, that the [Page] paines are alwaies continu­ing in one like degree, without any manner of in­termission, or decreasing. All manner of things that are under the cope of hea­ven, doe moove and turne round about with the same heaven, and do never stand still at one state or beeing, but are continually either ascending or descending. The sea and the rivers have their ebbing and flowing, the times, the ages, and the mutable fortune of men, and of kingdomes, are evermore in continuall motion. There is no feaver [Page] so fervent, that dooth not decline, neither greefe so sharpe, but that after it is much augmented, it dooth forthwith decrease. To be short, all the tribulations and miseries are by little and little worne away with time, and as the common saying is, Nothing is sooner dried up than teares. Onely that paine in hell is alwaies greene, onely that feaver never decreaseth, only that extremitie of heat knoweth not what is either evening or morning. In the time of Noahs flood, Almightie God rained forty daies and [Page] fortie nights, continually without ceasing upon the earth, and this sufficed to drowne the whole world. But in that place of tor­ment in hell, there shall raine everlasting venge­ance, & darts of furie upon that cursed land, without ever ceasing so much as one onely minute or mo­ment. Now what torment can be greater, and more to be abho [...]d, than continu­ally to suffer after one like manner, without any kind of alteration or chaunge? Though a meat bee never so delicate, yet in case wee [Page] feed continually therupon, it will in very short time be very loathsome unto us: for no meat can be more pre­cious and delicat than that Manna was, which almigh­tie God sent downe unto the children of Israel in the desart, & yet because they did eat continually therof, it made them to loath it, yea, and provoked them to vomite it up again. The way that is all plaine (they say) wearieth more than any o­ther▪ because alwais the va­rietie (yea even in punish­ment) is a kind of comfort. Tell me then, if things that [Page] bee pleasant and savorie, when they be alwaies after one manner, are an occasi­on of loathsomenesse and paine: what kind of loath­somnesse will that be which shall bee caused by those most horrible paines and torments in hell, which do continue everlastingly after one like sort? What will the damned and cursed crea­tures think, when they shall there see themselves so ut­terly abhorred & forsaken of almightie God, that hee will not so much as with the remission of any one sin, mitigate somwhat their [Page] torments. And so great shall the furie and rage bee which they shall there con­ceive against him, that they shall never cease continu­ally to curse and blaspheam his holy name. Vnto all these pains, there is also ad­ded the pain of that everla­sting consumer, to wit, the worme of conscience, wherof the holy Scripture maketh so oftentimes mention, say­ing, Their worme shal never die, and their fire shall never bee quenched. This worme is a furious raging de­spight and bitter repen­tance, without anie fruit, [Page] which the wicked shall al­wais have in hell, by calling to their remembrance the oportunitie and time they had whiles they were in this world, to escape those most greevous and horrible tor­ments, and how they wold not vse the benefit thereof. And therefore when the miserable sinner seeth him­selfe thus to be tormented and vexed on every side, and doth call to mind how many daies and yeares hee hath spent idly in vanities, pastimes, and pleasures; and how oftentimes he was ad­vertised of this perill, and [Page] how little regard he tooke thereof: What shall hee thinke? What anguish and sorrow shall there be in his heart? Hast thou not read in the Gospell, that there shall be weeping & wailing, and gnashing of teeth? The famine of Aegypt endured onely seven yeares, but that in hell shall endure everla­stingly. In Aegypt they found a remedie, though with great difficultie and charge, but for this, there shall never any remedie be found. Theirs was redee­med with monie & cattell, but this can never bee re­deemed [Page] with any manner of exchange. This punish­ment cannot be pardoned, this paine cannot bee ex­chaunged, this sentence cannot bee revoked. Oh, if thou knewest and woul­dest consider, how everie one condemned to hell, shall there remain tormen­ting and renting himselfe, weeping, and wailing, and saying: O miserable and unfortunate wretch that I am, what times and opor­tunities have I suffered to passe in vaine? A time there was, when with one cup of cold water I might [Page] have purchased to my selfe a crowne of glorie, and when also with such neces­sarie workes of mercie in releeving the poore, I might have gained life everlasting. Wherefore did I not looke before me? How was I blinded with things present? How did I let pa [...] the fruitfull yeares of aboundance, and did not enrich my selfe? If I had beene brought up a­mongst Infidels and Pa­gans, & had beleeved that there had been nothing els but onely to be borne, and to die, then might I have [Page] had some kind of excuse, and might have said, I knew not what was com­manded or prohibited me: but for so much as I have lived amongst Christians, & was my selfe one of them professed, and held it for an article of my beleefe, that the hour should come when I should give up an account after what order I had spent my life: forso­much also as it was daily cried out unto mee by the continuall preaching and teaching of Gods embas­sadours (whose advertise­ments manie following, [Page] made preparation in time, and laboured earnestly for the provision of good workes:) forsomuch I say as I made light of all these examples, and persuaded my selfe very fondly, that heaven was prepared for me, though I took no pains for it at all: what deserve I that have thus led my life? O ye infernall furies, come and rent me in peeces, and devour these my bowels, for so have I justly deser­ved, I have deserved eter­nall famishment, seeing I would not provide for my selfe while I had time. I [Page] deserve not to reape, be­cause I have not sowne; I am worthie to be destitute, because I have not laid up in store; I deserve that my request should now be de­nied mee, sith when the poore made request unto mee, I refused to releeve them: I have deserved to sigh and lament so long as God shall bee God; I have deserved, that this worme of conscience shall gnaw mine entrails for ever and ever, by representing unto me the little pleasure that I have enjoied, and the great felicitie which I have [Page] lost, & how far greater that was which I might have gained, by forgoing that little which I would not forgoe. This is that immor­tall worme that shall never die, but shall lie there ever­lastingly gnawing at the entrailes of the wicked, which is one of the most terrible pains that can pos­sibly be imagined.

Peradventure thou art nowe persuaded (good Reader) that there can bee added no more unto this, than hath beene said. But surely the mightie arme of God wanteth not force to [Page] chastice his enemies more and more: for all these paines that are hetherto rehearsed, are such as doe appertaine generally to all the damned: but besides these generall paines, there are also other particular paines, which each one of the damned shall there suf­fer in diverse sort, accor­ding to the qualitie of his sinne. And so according to this proportion, the hautie and proud shall there bee abased and brought low to their great confusion. The covetous shall bee driven to great necessitie: the [Page] glutton shall rage with continuall hunger and thirst. The letcherous shall burne in the very same flames which they them­selves have enkindled. And those that have all their life time hunted after their pleasures & pastimes, shall live therein continuall la­mentation and sorrow. But because examples are of very great force to moove our hearts, I will bring on­ly one for this purpose, whereby somewhat of this matter may the better bee perceived. It is written of a certaine holy man, that he [Page] saw the paines (in spirit) of a licentious & worldly man in this sort. First hee saw how the devils that were present at the houre of his death, when he yeelded up his ghost, snatched away his soule with great rejoy­cing, and made a present thereof to the prince of darkenesse, who was then sitting in a chair of fire, ex­pecting the comming of this present. Immediatly af­ter that it was presented be­fore him, hee arose up out of his seat, and said unto the damned soule that hee would give him the prehe­minence [Page] of that honoura­ble seat, because hee had been a man of honour, and was alwaies very much af­fected to the same. Inconti nently after that hee was placed therein, crying and lamenting in that honou­rable torment, there ap­peared before him two o­ther most ougly devils, and offered him a cup full of most bitter and stinking li­quour, and made him to drinke and carouse it up all, perforce; saying, It is meet, sithence thou hast beene a lover of precious wines & bankets, that thou [Page] shouldest likewise prove of this our wine, whereof all we doe use to drink in these parts.

Immediately after this there came other two, with two fierie trumpets, and setting them at his eares, began to blow into them flames of fire, saying, This melodie have wee reserved for thee, understanding that in the world thou wast very much delighted with minstrelcie and wanton songs: and suddainely hee espied other divels, loaden with vipers and serpents, the which they threw upon [Page] the breast and bellie of that miserable sinner, saying unto him, that forsomuch as he had been greatly de­lighted with the wanton embracings & letcherous lusts of women, hee should now sollace himselfe with these refreshings, in stead of those licentious de­lights and pleasures, which hee had enjoyed in the world. After this sort (as the Prophet Esay sayth in the 47 chapter) when the sinner is punished, there is given measure for measure, to the end, that in such a great varietie and propor­tion [Page] of punishments, the order & wisdome of Gods justice, might the more manifestly appeare.

This vision hath almigh­tie God shewed in spirit to this holy man for advertise­ment and instruction, not that in hell these things are altogether so material­ly done, but that by them wee might understand in some manner the varietie and multitude of the pains which be there appointed for the damned. Where­of, I know not how some of the Pagans have had a certaine knowledge: for [Page] a Poet speaking of this multitude of paines, affir­med, That although hee had a hundred mouthes and as many tongues, with a voice as strong as yron, yet were they not able on­ly to expresse the names of them. A Poet hee was that spake this, but truly therin he spake more like a Pro­phet or an Evangelist than a Poet. Now then, if all this evill shall most assu­redly come to passe, what man is hee, that seeing all this so certainely with the eyes of his faith, will not turne over the leafe, [Page] and begin to provide for himselfe against that time? Where is the judgement of men nowe become? Where be their wits? yea, Where is at the least their selfe-love, which seeketh evermore for his own pro­fite, and is much afraid of any losse? May it be thoght that men are become beasts, that provide onely for the time present? Or have they peradventure so dimmed their eye sight, that they cannot looke be­fore them? Hearken (sayth Esay) Oyee deafe and yee blind, open your eyes that [Page] you may see, Who is blind but my servant? And who is deafe but ye, unto whom I have sent my messengers? And who is blind, but hee that suffereth himselfe to bee sold for a slave? Thou that seest so many things, wilt thou not suffer thy selfe to see this? Thou that hast thine eares open, wilt thou not give eare hereun­to? If thou beleeve not this, how art thou then a Christian? If thou beleeve it, and doest not provide for it, how canst thou bee thought a reasonable man? Aristotle sayth, That [Page] this is the difference be­tween opinion and imagi­nation, that an imaginati­on alone is not sufficient to cause a feare, but an opini­on is: for if I doe imagine that a house may fall upon mee, it is not enough to make me afraid, unlesse I beleeve or have an opinion it will be so indeed: for then it is sufficient to make mee afraid. And hereof com­meth the feare that mur­derers alwaies have, by rea­son of the suspition they conceive, that their ene­mies do lie in wait for them. If then the opinion and [Page] only suspition of danger is able to cause the greatest courage to feare, how is it that the certaintie and be­leefe of so many & so great terrible miseries (which are farre more sure than anie opinion) dooth not make thee to seare. If thou per­ceivest, that for these many yeares past thou hast lead a licentious and sinfull life, and that at the last, accor­ding to present justice, thou art condemned to these horrible torments in hell: if also there ap­peare by probable conje­cture, that there is no more [Page] likelyhood of thy amend­ment for ensuing years to come, than there was in those alreadie past, how happeneth it, that running headlong into so manifest a daunger, thou art not at all afraid? Especially, con­sidering the sinfull state wherin thou livest, and the horrible paines and tor­ments which doe attend for thee, & the time which thou hast lost, and the end­lesse repentaunce which thou shalt have therefore in the most horrible tor­ments of hell. Assuredly, it goeth beyond the compas [Page] of all common sence and conceit of humane reason, to consider, That there should bee such negligent, wilfull, grosse, and carelesse blindnesse, able to enter and take such deepe rooting in the soule of man.

WHo loves this life, frō love his love doth erre,
And chusing drosse, rich treasure doth denie,
Leaving the pearle, Christs counsels to preferre,
With selling all we have, the same to buy:
O happie soule, that doth disburse a summe,
To gaine a kingdome in the life to come.
Such trafficke may be tearmed heav'nly thrift,
Such venter hath no hazard to dissuade
Immortall purchase, with a mortall gift,
[Page]The greatest gaine that ever merchant made:
To get a crowne where Saints and Angels sing,
For laying out a base and earthly thing.
To tast the ioyes no humane knowledge knowes,
To heare the tunes of the coelestiall quires,
T'attaine heau' [...] sweet and mildest calme repose,
To se [...] Gods face, the summ [...] of good desires:
Which by his glorious saints i [...] [...] [...]yde,
Yet sigh▪ with seeing, never satisfide.
God as he is, sight beyond estimate,
Which angels tongues are untaught to discover,
Whose splendor doth the heavens illustrate,
Vnto which sight each sight becomes a lover:
Whom all the glorious court of heaven laud,
With praises of eternities applaud.
There where no teares are to interprete greeves,
Nor any sighs, heart dolours to expound,
There where no treasure as surpris'd by theeves,
[Page]Nor any voice that speakes with sorrowes sound:
No use of passions, no distempered thought,
No spot of sinne, no deed of errour wrought.
The native home of pilgrime soules abod,
Rest's habitation, ioies true residence,
Ierusalem's new citie built by God,
Form'd by the hands of his owne excellence:
With gold-pav'd streets, the wals of precious stone,
Where all sound praise to him sits on the throne.

❧ Of the glorie of the blessed Saints in Heaven.

TO the end there might want no­thing to stir up our mindes to vertue, after the paines which Almightie God threateneth to the wicked, he dooth also set before us the reward of the good: [Page] which is, that glorie and everlasting life which the blessed Saints doe enjoy in heaven, whereby he dooth very mightily allure us to the love of the same. But what manner of thing this reward, and what this life is, there is no tongue, nei­ther of angels nor of men, that is sufficient to expresse it. Howbeit, that wee may have some kind of savor & knowledge therof, I intend here to rehearse even word for word, what S. Augustine sayth in one of his medita­tions, speaking of the life everlasting (ensuing this [Page] transitorie time) and the joies of the blessed Saints in heaven. O life (sayth he) prepared by almighty God for his friends, a blessed life, a secure life, a quiet life, a beautifull life, a cleane life, a chast life, a holy life, a life that know­eth no death, a life without sadnesse, without labour, without greefe, without trouble, without corrupti­on, without feare, without variety, without alteration, a life replenished with all beautie and dignity; where there is neither enemy that can offend, nor delight that [Page] can annoy, where love is perfect, and no feare at all, where the day is everla­sting, and the spirit of all is one: where almightie God is seene face to face, who is the only meat whereupon they feed without lothsom­nesse: it delighteth me to consider thy brightnesse, & thy treasures do rejoice my longing heart. The more I consider thee, the more I am stricken in love with thee. The great desire I have of thee, doth wonder­fully delight me, & no lesse pleasure is it to me to keep thee in my remembrance. [Page] O life most happie, ô king­dome truly blessed, wherin there is no death nor end, neither yet succession of time, where the day conti­nuing evermore without night, knoweth not anie mutation; where the victo­rious conqueror being joi­ned with those everlasting quires of Angels, and ha­ving his head crowned with a garland of glorie, singeth unto Almightie God one of the songs of Syon. Oh happie, yea, and most hap­pie should my soule bee, if when the race of this my pilgrimage is ended, I [Page] might bee worthie to see thy glorie, thy blessednes, thy beautie, the wals and gates of thy city, thy streets, thy lodgings, thy noble ci­tizens, and thine omnipo­tent king in his most glori­ous majestie. The stones of thy wals are precious, thy gates are adorned with bright pearles, thy streets are of very fine excellent gold, in which there never faile perpetuall praises; thy houses are paved with rich stones, wrought throghout with Zaphirs, and covered above with massie gold, where no uncleane thing [Page] may enter, neither dooth any abide there that is de­filed. Faire and beautifull in thy delights art thou ô Ierusalem our mother, none of those thinges are suffered in thee, that are suffered here. There is great diversitie betweene thy things and the things that we doe continually see in this life. In thee is never seene neither darkenesse nor night, neither yet any change of time. The light that shineth in thee, com­meth neither of lampes, nor of Sunne or Moone, nor yet of bright glittering [Page] stars, but God that procee­deth of God, and the light that commeth of light, is he that giveth clearenesse unto thee. Even the very king of kings himselfe kee­peth continuall residence in the middest of thee, compassed about with his officers and servants. There doe the Angels in their orders and quires sing a most sweet and melodi­ous harmonie. There is celebrated a perpetuall solemnitie and feast with everie one of them that commeth thither, after his departure out of this [Page] pilgrimage. There bee the orders of Prophets; there is the famous com­panie of the Apostles; there is the invincible ar­mie of Martyrs; there is the most reverent assem­bly of confessours; there are the true and per­fect religious persons; there are the holy Vir­gines, which have over­come both the pleasures of the world, and the frailtie of their owne na­ture; there are the young men and young women, more auncient in vertue than in yeares; there are [Page] the sheepe and little lambs that have escaped from the wolves, and from the de­ceitfull snares of this life, and therefore do now keep a perpetuall feast, each one in his place, all alike in joy, though different in degree. There, Charitie raigneth in her full perfection, for unto them God is all in all, whome they behold without end, in whose love they be all continually in­flamed, whom they doe al­waies love, and in loving, do praise, and in praising, doe love, and all their ex­ercises consist in praises, [Page] without wearinesse, and without travell. O happie were I, yea, and very happy indeed, if at what time I shall bee loosed out of the prison of this wretched bo­die, I might bee thought worthie to hear those songs of that heavenly melodie, sung in the praise of the everlasting king, by all the cittizens of that so noble cittie. Happie were I, and very happie, if I might ob­taine a roome among the chaplaines of that chap­pell, and wait for my turne also to sing my Alleluia. If I might be neare to my [Page] king, my God, my Lord, and see him in his glorie, even as he promised mee, when he said: O father, this is my last determinate will, that all those that thou hast given unto mee, may bee with me, and see the glorie which I had with thee be­fore the world was created. Hetherto are the words of S. Augustine. Nowe tell mee (Christian brother) what a day of glorious shine shall that bee unto thee (if thou lead thy life in Gods feare) when after the course of this pilgrimage, thou shalt passe from death [Page] to immortallitie; and in that passage, when others shall begin to feare, thou shalt begin to rejoyce, and lift up thyhead because the day of thy deliverance is at hand? Come foorth a little (sayth S. Ierome unto the Virgine Eustochia) out of the prison of this body, and when thou art before the gate of this▪ Tabernacle, set before thy eyes the re­ward that thou hopest to have for thy present la­bours. Tell mee, what a day shall that bee, when our Lord himselfe with all his Saints, shall come & meet [Page] thee in the way, saying un­to thee: Arise and make hast O my beloved, my delight, and my Turtle dove, for now the Winter is past, and the tempestuous waters are cea­sed, and flowers doe begin to appeare in our land. Cant. 2. Howe great joy shall thy soule then receive, when it shall bee at that time pre­sented before the throne of the most blessed Trinitie, by the hands of the holy Angels (especially by that Angell, to whom thou was committed, as to a faithful keeper) and when this An­gell, with all the rest, shall [Page] declare thy good workes, and what crosses, tribulati­ons, and injuries thou hast suffered for Gods sake. Acts 9. S. Luke writeth, That when holy Tabitha, the great almes giver, was dead, all the widdowes and poore folke came about the Apostle S. Peter, shew­ing unto him the garments which she had given them: where with the Apostle be­ing moved, made his pray­er unto Almightie God for that so mercifull a woman, and by his praiers he raised her again to life. Now what a gladnesse will it be to thy [Page] soule, when in the middest of those blessed spirits thou shalt bee placed, with re­membrance of thy almes deeds, thy praiers and fa­stings, the innocencie of thy lise, thy suffering of wrongs and injuries, thy patience in afflictions, thy temperance in diet, with all other vertues and good workes that thou hast done in all thy life. O how great joy shalt thou receive at that time for all the good deedes that thou hast wrought! how clearly then shalt thou understand the value & the excellencie of [Page] vertue! There the obedient man shall talk of victories; there vertue shall receive her reward, and the good honoured according to their merite. Moreover, what a pleasure will it bee unto thee, when thou shalt see thy selfe to bee in that sure haven, and shalt looke backe upon the course of thy navigation which thou hast sayled here in this life: when thou shalt remember the tempests wherein thou hast been tossed, the straits through which thou hast passed, and the daungers of theeves and pyrats, from [Page] whom thou hast escaped. There is the place where they shall sing the song of the Prophet, which sayth, Had it not ben that our Lord had ben mine helper, it could not be but my soule had gone into hell. Especially, when from thence thou shalt be­hold so many sinnes as are committed every houre in the world, so many souls as doe descend every day into hell, and how it hath plea­sed Almightie God, that among such a multitude of damned persons, thou shouldest bee of the num­ber of his elect, and one of [Page] those to whome hee would grant such exceeding great felicitie and glorie. Besides all this, what a goodly sight will it be to see those seats filled up, and the citie buil­ded, and the wals of that noble Ierusalem repaired againe? With what chear­full embracings shall the whole court of heaven en­tertaine them, beholding them when they come loa­den with the spoiles of their vanquished enemies? there shall those valiant men and women enter with triumph, which have together with the world conquered the [Page] weakenesse of their owne fraile nature. There shall they enter which have suf­fred martirdom for Christs sake, with double triumph over the flesh & the world, adorned with all coelestiall glorie. There shall also dai­ly enter many young men and children, which have vanquished the tendernesse of their young yeares with discretion and vertue. Oh, how sweet and savorie shall the fruit of vertue then be, although for a time before her roots seemed very bit­ter: sweet is the cold eve­ning after the hote sunnie [Page] day; sweet is [...] [...]ountaine to the weary [...] travai­ler; sweet is [...] sleepe to the tired servaunt: but much more sweet is it to the Saints in heaven to en­joy peace after warre, secu­ritie after perill, eternall rest after their paines and tra­vels: for then are the warres at an end, then need they no more to goe all armed, both on the right side and on the left. The children of Israel went forth armed towards the land of Pro­mise, but after that the land was conquered, they laid downe their speares, and [Page] cast awa [...] [...] armour, and forget [...] and tur­moile [...], each one under the shaddow of his pavillion and harbour en­joied the fruit of their sweet peace. Now may the wat­ching Prophet come down from his standing, that did watch and fix his feet upon the place of the Sentinell. There is no more feare of invasion by the terrible at­mies of the bloudie ene­mies: there is no place for the subtill crafts of the lur­king viper: there cannot arrive the deadly sight of the venomous Baseliske, [Page] nor yet shall the hissing of the auncient serpent bee heard there; but onely the soft breathing aire of the holy ghost, wherein is be­holden the glorie of Al­mightie God. This is the region of all peace, the place of securitie, situated above all the elements, whether the cloudes and stormie winds of the darke aire cannot come. O what glorious things have been spoken of thee, ô cittie of God. Blessed are they (saith holy Tobias) that love thee, and enjoy thy peace. O my sould praise our Lord, [Page] for he hath delivered Ieru­salem his citie from all her troubles. Happie shall I bee, if the remnant of my posteritie might come to see the clearenesse of Ieru­salem: her gates shall bee wrought with Zaphirs and Emeraulds, and all the cir­cuit of her wals shall bee built with precious stones, her streets shall bee paved with white and pollished marble, and in all parts of her territories shall be sung Alleluia. O joyfull coun­trey! ô sweet glorie! ô bles­sed companie! who shall bee those so fortunate and [Page] happie that are elected for thee? It seemeth a pre­sumption to desire thee, and yet I will not live with­out the desire of thee. O yee sonnes of Adam, a race of men, miserably blinded and deceived. O yee scattered sheepe, wan­dering out of your right way, if this be your sheep­coat, whether goe you backeward? What meane you? Why suffer you such an excellent benefit to bee wilfully lost for not taking so little paines? What wise man would not desire, that all labour and paine of the [Page] world were imposed unto him? that all sorrows, affli­ctions, & diseases were even poured upon him as thicke as haile; that persecutions, tribulations, & greefs, with one to molest him, another to disquiet him, yea, that all creatures in the world did conspire against him, being scorned & made a laughing stocke of all men; and that his whole life were conver­ted into weepings and la­mentations, so that in the next life hee might find re­pose in the heavenly harbor of eternall consolation, and be thought meet to have a [Page] place among that blessed people, which are adorned and beautified with such inestimable glorie. And thou, ô foolish lover of this miserable world, goe thy way, seek as long as thou wilt for honors & promotions, build sumptuous houses & palaces, purchase lands and possessions, in large thy ter­ritories & dominions, yea, commaund if thou wilt whole empires and worlds, yet shalt thou never bee so great as the least of all the servants of almightie God, who shall receive that trea­sure which this world cannot [Page] give, & shall enjoy that feli­citie, which shal endure for evermore, when thou with thy pomp and riches, shall bear the rich glutton com­panie, whose buriall is in the deepe vault of hell: but the devout spirituall man shall be carried by the ho­ly Angels with poore La­zarus into Abrahams bo­some, a place of perpe­tuall rest, joy, sol­lace, and eter­nall hap­pines,

Of the benefites which our Lord promiseth to give in this present life, to such as live a iust and god­ly life.

PEradventure thou wilt now say, that al these things be­fore rehearsed, bee rewards and punishments only for the life to come: and that thou desirest to see some­thing in this present life, because our mindes are [Page] wont to bee mooved very much with the sight of things present. To satisfie thee herein, I will also ex­plaine unto thee what may answere thy desire. For al­thogh our Lord do reserve the best wine, and the deli­cat dishes of most delight, untill the end of the ban­ket, yet he suffereth not his friends to bee utterly desti­tute of meat and drinke in this tedious voyage: for he knoweth very wel, that they could not otherwise hold out in their journey. And therfore when he said unto Abraham, Feare not Abra­ham, [Page] for I am thy defendor, and thy reward shall bee exceeding great: By these wordes hee promised two thinges, the one for the time present, that was, to be his safegard and defence in all such things as may hap­pen in this life; & the other for the time to come, and that is, the reward of glorie which is reserved for the next life. But how great the first promise is, and how many kinds of bene­fites and favours are there­in included, no man is able to understand, but onely hee, that hath with [Page] great diligence read the holy scriptures, wherein no one thing is more often repeated and set forth, than the greatnesse of the fa­vours, benefits, and privi­ledges, which Almightie God promiseth unto his friends in this life. Hearken what Salomon saith in the third chapter of his Pro­verbes, as touching this matter. Blessed is that man that findeth wisdome, for it is better to have it, than all the treasures of silver and gold, be they never so excel­lent and precious: and it is more worth than all the ri­ches [Page] of the world, and what­soever mans heart is able to desire, is not comparable unto it. The length of daies are at her right hand, and riches and glorie at her left. Her waies be pleasant, and all her passages be quiet, she is a tree of life to all those that have obtained her, and hee that shall have her in continuall possession, shall bee blessed. Keepe therefore (O my sonne) the lawes of Almightie God, and his counsels, for they shal bee as life to thy soule, and sweetnesse to thy tast. Then shalt thou walke safely in thy waies, and thy feet shall not [Page] find any stumbling blockes. If thou sleep, thou shalt have no cause to feare: and if thou take thy rest, thy sleepe shall be quiet. This is the sweet­nesse and quietnesse of the way of the godly, but the waies of the wicked are far different, as the holy Scrip­ture doth declare unto us. The paths and waies of the wicked (sayth Ecclesiasticus) are full of brambles, and at the end of their journey are prepared for them, hell, darkenesse, & paines. Doest thou thinke it then a good exchaunge, to forsake the waies of Almightie God, [Page] for the wayes of the world, sith there is so great diffe­rence betweene the one and the other, not onely in the end of the way, but also in all the steps of the same? What madnesse can bee greater, than to chuse one torment, to gaine another by; rather than with one rest to gaine another rest? And that thou maist more clearely perceive the ex­cellencie of this rest, and what a number of benefits are presently incident ther­unto, I beseech thee hear­ken attentively even what Almightie God himselfe [Page] hath promised by his Pro­phet Esay, to the observers of his law, in a manner with these words, as diverse in­terpreters doe expound them. When thou shalt doe (saith he) such and such things, which I have com­maunded thee to do, there shall forthwith appear un­to thee the dawning of the cleare day (that is, the sonne of justice) which shall drive away all the darkenesse of thy errours and miseries, & then shalt thou begin to enjoy true and perfit salva­tion. Now these are the be­nefits which almighty God [Page] hath promised to his ser­vants. And albeit some of them bee for the time to come, yet are some of them to be presently received in this life: as, that new light and shining from heaven; that safetie and abundance of all good thinges; that assured confidence & trust in the almightie God; that divine assistance in all our praiers and petitions made unto him; that peace and tranquilitie of conscience; that protection and provi­dence of Almightie God. All these are the gracious gifts and favours which al­mightie [Page] God hath promi­sed to his servaunts in this life. They all are the works of his mercie, effects of his grace, testimonies of his love, and blessings, which hee of his fatherly provi­dence extendeth.

To bee short, all these benefits do the godly injoy both in this present life, and in the life to come: and of all these are the un­godly deprived, both in the one life, and in the other. Wherby thou maist easily perceive, what difference there is betweene the one sort and the other, seeing [Page] the one is so rich in graces, and the other so poore and needie: For if thou ponder well Gods promised bles­sings, and consider the state and condition of the good and the wicked, thou shalt find, that the one sort is highly in the favour of Al­mightie God, and the o­ther deeply in his displea­sure: the one be his friends, and the other his enemies: the one bee in light, and the other in darkenesse: the one doe enjoy the compa­nie of Angels, & the other the filthie pleasures and de­lights of swine: the one [Page] are truly free, and lords over themselves, and the other are become bond­slaves unto Sathan, and unto their owne lusts and appetites. The one are joy­full with the witnesse of a good conscience, and the other (except they be utter­ly blinded) are continually bitten with the worme of conscience, evermore gnawing on them: the one in tribulation, stand sted­fastly in their proper place; and the other, like light chaffe, are carried up and downe with everie blast of wind: the one stand secure [Page] and firme with the anker of hope, and the other are un­stable, and evermore yeel­ding unto the assaults of fortune: the praiers of the one are acceptable and li­king unto God, and the praiers of the other are abhorred and accursed: the death of the one is quiet, peaceable, and pre­cious in the sight of God, and the death of the other, is unquiet, painefull, and troubled with a thousand frights and terrours: To conclude, the one live like children under the prote­ction and defence of Al­mightie [Page] God, and sleepe sweetly under the shaddow of his pastoral providence; and the other being exclu­ded from this kind of pro­vidence, wander abroad as straied sheep, without their sheep heard and maister, ly­ing wide open to all the perils, daungers, & assaults of the world. Seeing then, that a vertuous life is ac­companied with all these benefits, what is the cause that should withdraw thee, and persuade thee not to embrace such a precious treasure? what art thou able to alledge for excuse of thy [Page] great negligence? To say that this is not true, it can­not be admitted, for so much as Gods word doth avouch the certainetie hereof. To say that these are but small benefits, thou canst not, for so much as they do exceed all that mans heart can de­sire. To say that thou art an enemie unto thy selfe, and that thou doest not desire these benefits, cannot bee, considering that a man is even naturally a friend to himselfe, & the will of man hath ever an cie to his own benefit, which is the very ob­ject or marke that his desire [Page] shooteth at. To say that thou hast no understanding nor tast of these benefits, it will not serve to discharge thine offence, for so much as thou hast the fayth and beleefe thereof, though thou hast not the tast, for the tast is lost through sin, but not the faith: and the faith is a witnesse more cer­taine, more secure, and better to be trusted, than al other experiences and witnesses in the world.

Why doest thou not then discredit all other witnesses with this one assured testi­monie? Why doest thou [Page] not rather give credit unto faith, than to thine owne opinion and judgement? O that thou wouldest make a resolute determination, to submit thy selfe into the hands of almightie God, and to put thy whole trust assuredly in him. How soon shouldest thou then see all these prophesies fulfilled in thee: then shouldest thou see the excellencie of these divine treasures: then shol­dest thou see how starke blind the lovers of this world are, that seeke not after this high treasure: then shouldest thou see [Page] upon what good ground our Saviour inviteth us to this kind of life saying: Come un­to me all ye that travell, and are loaden, and I will refresh you; take my yoke upon you, & you shal find rest for your souls: for my yoke is sweet, & my bur­den is light. Almightie God is no deceiver, nor false promiser, neither yet is he a great boaster of such things as he promiseth. Why dost thou then shrinke backe? why dost thou refuse peace and true quietnesse? why dost thou refuse the gentle offers and sweet callings of thy pastor? how darest thou [Page] despise & banish away ver­tue from thee, which hath such prerogatives and pri­viledges as these bee; and withal, confirmed & signed even with the hand of Al­mighty God? The queen of Saba heard far lesse things than these of Salomon, and yet shee travelled from the uttermost parts of the world to trie the truth of those things that she had heard. And why doest not thou then (hearing such notable, yea, and so certain news of vertue) adventure to take a little paines to trie the truth and sequell therof? O [Page] deare Christian brother, put thy trust in Almightie God and in his word, and commit thy self most bold­ly without all feare into his armes, and unloose from thy handes those trifling knots that have hetherto deceived thee, and thou shalt find, that the merites of vertue doe far excell her fame: and that all which is spoken in praise of her, is nothing in comparison of that which shee is in­deed.

That a man ought not to deferre his repen­tance and conversion unto God, from day to day: considering hee hath so many debts to dis­charge, by reason of the of­fences committed in his sinfull life al­redie past.

NOw then, if on the one side there bee so many and so great respects, that do bind us to chaunge our sinfull life; and on the other side, [Page] we have not any sufficient excuse why wee should not make this exchange. How long wilt thou tarrie, untill thou fully resolve to doe it? Turne thine eyes a little, and looke backe upon thy life past, and consider, that at this present (of what age soever thou bee) it is high time, or rather, the time well nigh past to begin to discharge some part of thy old debts. Consider, that thou which art a Christian regenerated in the water of holy Baptisme, which doest acknowledge Almightie God for thy father, and the [Page] Catholicke church for thy mother, whome shee hath nourished with the milke of the Gospell, to wit, with the doctrine of the Apo­stles and Evangelists: con­sider (I say) that all this notwithstanding, thou hast lived even as loosely and dissolutely, as if thou hadst been a meere Infidell, that had never any knowledge of Almightie God. And if thou doe denie this, then tell mee what kind of sinne is there which thou hast not committed? What tree is there forbidden that thou hast not beholden [Page] with thine eyes? What greene meddow is there, in which thou hast not (at the least in desire) feasted thy letcherous lust? what thing hath been set before thine eyes, that thou hast not wantonly desired? What appetite hast thou left un­executed, notwithstanding that thou didst beleeve in almightie God, and that thou wert a Christian? what wouldest thou have done more, if thou hadst not had any faith at all? If thou hadst not looked for any other life? If thou hadst not feared the dreadful day [Page] of judgement? What hath all thy former life been, but a web of sinnes, a sinke of vices, a way full of brambles and thornes, and a froward disobedience of God? with whome hast thou hetherto lived, but onely with thine appetite, with thy flesh, with thy pride, and with the goods and riches of this transitorie world? These have beene thy gods, these have beene thine idols, whome thou hast served, and whose lawes thou hast diligently obeied. Make thine account with the Al­mighty God, with his laws, [Page] and with his obedience, and peradventure thou shalt find, that thou hast esteemed him no more, than if hee had been a god of wood, or stone. For it is certaine, that there be ma­ny Christians, which belee­ving that there is a God, are induced to sinne with such facilitie, as though they beleeved, that there were no God at all: and do offend no whit the lesse, though they beleeve that there is a God, than they would doe, if they beleeved there were none at all. What greater injurie, what [Page] greater despight can bee done, than so to contemne his divine majestie? Final­ly, thou beleeving all such things as Christs church doth beleeve, hast notwith­standing so led thy life, as if thou wert persuaded, that the beleefe of Christi­ans were the greatest fa­bles or lies in the world. And if the multitude of thy sinnes past, and the facilitie thou hast used in commit­ting of them, do not make thee afraid, why doest thou not feare at the least the majesty and omnipotencie of him, against whom thou [Page] hast sinned? Lift up thine eyes, and consider the in­finit greatnesse and om­nipotencie of the Lord, whom the powers of hea­ven do adore, before whose majestie the whole com­passe of the wide world ly­eth prostrate; in whose pre­sence, all things created, are no more than chaffe caried away with the wind. Consider also with thy selfe how unseemely it is, that such a vile worme as thou art, should have audacitie so many times to offend and provoke the wrath of so great a majestie. Consi­der [Page] the wonderful and most terrible severitie of his ju­stice, and what horrible pu­nishments hee hath used from time to time in the world against sin; and that not onely upon particular persons, but also upon cit­ties, nations, kingdomes, and provinces, yea, upon the universall world: And not onely in earth, but also in heaven; and not onely upon straungers sinners, but even upon his owne most innocent sonne, our sweet Saviour Iesus Christ, when hee tooke upon him to satisfie for the debt that [Page] we owed. And if this seve­ritie was used upon greene and innocent wood, and that for the sins of others, what then will he doe upon drie and withered wood, and against those that are loden with their owne sins? Now, what thing can bee thought more unreasona­ble, than that such a fraile▪ wretch as thou art, should bee so saucie and malapert as to mocke with so migh­tie a Lord, whose hand is so heavie, that in case hee should strike but one stroke upon thee, he would at one blow drive thee downe [Page] headlong into the deepe bottomelesse pit of hell, without remedie. Consider likewise the great patience of this our mercifull Lord, who hath expected thy re­pentaunce so long, even from the time that thou didst first offend him: and thinke, that if after so long patience and tarrying for thee, thou shalt still conti­nue thy leaud and sinfull life, abusing thus his mercy and provoking him to fur­ther indignation & wrath, he will then bend his bow, and shake his sword, and raine downe upon thee [Page] even sharpe arrowes of e­verlasting wrath and death.

Consider also the pro­foundnesse of his deepe judgements, whereof wee read and see daily so great wonders. We see how king Salomon himselfe, after his so great wisdome, and after those three thousand para­bles and most profound mysteries uttered by him, was forsaken by Almightie God, and suffered to fall down and adore idols. We see how one of those seven first deacons of the prima­tive church, which were ful of the holy ghost, became [Page] not onely an hereticke, but also an arch heriticke and a father of heresies. Wee see daily many starres fall downe from heaven unto earth, with miserable fals, and to wallow themselves in the durt, and to eat the meat of swine, which sate before at Gods own table, and were fed with the very bread of Angels. If then the just and righteous (for some secret pride or negli­gence, or els for some in­gratitude of theirs) be thus justly forsaken of almightie God, after they have be­stowed so many yeares in [Page] his service. What maiest thou looke for, that hast done in a manner nothing els in all thy life time, but onely heaped sinnes upon sinnes, and hast thereby of­fended almighty God most greevously?

Now, if thou hast lived after this sort, were it not reason that thou shouldest now at the length give over, and cease heaping sinne upon sinne, and debt upon debt, and be­gin to pacifie the wrath of Almightie God, and to disburden thy sinfull soule? Were it not meet, [Page] that that time which thou hast hetherto given to the world to thy flesh, and to the devill, should suffice? and that thou shouldest bestow some little time of that which remaineth, to serve him, who hath given thee all that thou hast? Were it not a point of wisedome, after so long time, and so many great injuries, to feare the most terrible justice of Al­mightie God, who the more patiently hee suffe­reth sinners, the more hee dooth afterwards punish them with severitie and ju­stice? [Page] Were it not meet for thee to feare thy long con­tinuance so many yeares in sinne, and in the displeasure of Almightie God, procu­ring thereby against thee such a mightie adversarie as hee is, and provoking him of a mercifull loving father to become thy se­vere terrible judge and ene­mie? Were it not meet to feare, least that the force of evill custome may in con­tinuance of time be turned into nature; and that thy long vicious usuall manner of committing sinne, may make of a vice, a necessitie; [Page] or little lesse? Why art thou not afraid, least by little and little thou maiest cast thy selfe downe head­long into the deepe pit of a reprobate sence, where­into after that a man is once faln, he never maketh account of any sinne, bee it never so great.

The Patriarke Iacob said unto Laban his father in law: These fourteene years have I served thee, and loo­ked to thine affaires; now it is time that I should look to mine owne, and begin to attend unto the affaires of mine owne houshold. [Page] Wherefore if thou hast likewise bestowed so ma­nie yeares in the service of this world, and of this fraile transitorie life, were it not good reason, that thou shouldest now begin to make some provision for the salvation of thy soule, and for the everla­sting life to come? There is nothing more short, nor more transitorie than the life of man; and therefore providing so carefully as thou doest for all such things as bee necessarie for this life, which is so short, why doest thou not [Page] provide likewise somewhat for the life that is to come? which life shall en­dure for e­ver and ever.

❧ The conclu­sion of all the pre­misses.

IF now all this bee so, I be­seech thee e­ven for the bit­ter passion of our sweet sa­viour Iesus Christ, to re­member thyselfe, and con­sider that thou art a Chri­stian, and that thou belee­vest [Page] assuredly for a most undoubted truth, whatsoe­ver the true faith instru­cteth thee. This faith telleth thee, that thou hast a judge above that seeth all the steps and motions of thy life: and that certainely there shall a day come, when he will require an ac­count of thee, even for e­very idle word. This faith teacheth thee, That a man is not altogether at an end when he dieth, but that af­ter this temporal life, there remaineth another everla­sting life; and that the souls die not with the bodies, [Page] but that whiles the bodie remaineth in the grave, untill the generall day of judgement, the soule shall enter into another new countrey, and into a new world, where it shall have such habitation and com­panie, as the faith & workes were which it had in this life. This faith telleth thee also, that both the reward of vertue, and the punish­ment of vice, is a thing so wonderfull, that although the whole world were full of bookes, and all crea­tures were writers, yet shold they all bee wearied, and [Page] the world come to an end, before they should end their description, & make a perfect declaration what is comprehended in each one of these points. This faith informeth thee also, that the debts and duties which we owe to almightie God, are so great, that al­beit a man had so many lives as there bee sands in the sea, yet would they not suffice, if they were all em­ployed in his service. And this faith likewise telleth thee, that vertue is such an excellent treasure, that all the treasures of the world, [Page] and al that mans heart can desire, are in no sort com­parable unto it.

Wherefore, if there be so many and so great re­spects that doe invite us unto vertue, how commeth it to passe, that there bee so few lovers and followers of the same? If men be moo­ved with gaine and com­modity, what greater com­moditie can there be than to attaine life everlasting? If they be moved with fear of punishment, what grea­ter punishment can bee found, than the most hor­rible everlasting dreadfull [Page] torments in the lake of fire and brimstone, to continue even world without end? If that bonds of debts and benefites; what debts are greater than these which we owe unto the almightie God, as well for that hee is which he is, as also for that which wee have received of him? If the feare of perils doe move us; what greater perill can there bee than death, the houre thereof being so uncertaine, and the account so strait? If thou be moved with peace, libertie, quietnes of mind, and with a pleasant life, [Page] (which are things that all the world desires) it is cer­taine, that all these are found much better in the life that is governed by ver­tue and reason, than in that life which is ruled by the affections and passions of the mind, forsomuch as man is a reasonable crea­ture, and no beast. Howbe­it, in case thou account all this as not sufficient to move thee thereunto, yet let it suffice thee to consi­der further, that even Al­mightie God so abased himselfe for thy sake, that he descended from heaven [Page] unto the earth, and be­came man, and whereas he created the whole world in sixe dayes, hee bestow­ed three and thirtie yeares about thy redemption, yea, and was also conten­ted for the same to leese his life. Almightie God died, that sinne should die: and yet for all this doe wee endeavor, that sinne might live in our hearts, notwith­standing, that our Lord purposed to take away the life of sinne with his owne death. If this matter were to be discussed with reason, surely this alreadie spoken [Page] might suffice to prevaile with any reasonable crea­ture: for not onely in be­holding Almightie God upon the crosse, but whe­ther soever we doe turn our eyes, we shal find, that eve­ry thing crieth out to us, and calleth upon us to re­ceive this so excellent a be­nefite: for there is not a thing created in the world, (if we duly consider it) but dooth invite us to the love and service of our Saviour Iesus Christ, insomuch, that looke how many crea­tures there be in the world, so many preachers there [Page] are, so many bookes, so many voices, and so ma­nie reasons, which doe all call us unto almighty God.

And how is it possible then, that so many callings as these are, so many pro­mises, so many threatnings, and so many provocations, should not suffice to bring us unto him? What might almightie God have done more than hee hath done, or promised more greater blessings than he hath pro­mised, or threatened more greevous and horrible tor­ments than he hath threat­ned, to draw us unto him, [Page] and to pluck us away from sinne? And yet all this notwithstanding, howe commeth it to passe, that there is so great (I will not say arrogancie, but) bewit­ching of men, that doe be­leeve these things to bee certainely true, and yet bee not afraid to continue all the dayes of their life in the committing of deadly sinnes? Yea, to goe to bed in deadly sinne, and to rise up againe in deadly sinne, and to embrue themselves in every kind of lothsome, detestable, and odious sinne, even as though all [Page] their whole endeavours in­tended by the practise of sinne, to resist all grace and favour in the sight of God? And this is done in such sort, so without feare, so without scruple of mind, so without breaking of one houres sleepe, and with­out the refraining of anie one delicate morsell of meat for the same, as if all that they beleeved, were dreames, and olde wives tales, and as if all that the holy Evangelists have writ­ten, were meere fiction and fables. But tel me thou that art such a desperate [Page] wilfull rebell against thy Creator and Redeemer, which by thy detestable life and dissolute conversation, doest evidence thy selfe to be a firebrand, prepared to burne in those everlasting and revenging horrible fires of hell: What woul­dest thou have done more than thou hast done, in case thou haddest beene persuaded, that all were meere lies which thou hast beleeved:?; For although that for feare of incurring the daunger of the princes lawes, and the execution of their force upon thee, thou [Page] hast somewhat brideled thine appetites; yet doth it not appeare, that for any feare of Almightie God, thou hast refrained thy will in any one thing, neither from carnall pleasures, nor from taking revenge of thine enemies, nor from backbiting and slandering thy neighbours, nor yet from fulfilling thine inor­dinate lusts and desires, in case thine abilitie served thee thereunto. Oh, what dooth the worme of thy conscience say unto thee, whiles thou art in such a fond securitie and confi­dence, [Page] continuing in such a dissolute and wicked life as thou doest? Where is now become the under­standing, judgement, and reason, which thou hast of a man? Why art thou not afraid of so horrible, so certaine, and so assured pe­rils and daungers? If there were a dish of meat set be­fore thee, and some man (albeit he were a lier) should say unto thee, refraine to touch and eat thereof, for it is poysoned; durst thou once adventure to stretch out thy hand, to take a tast thereof, though the [Page] meat were never so savo­rie and delicate, and hee never so great a lier that should beare thee thus in hand? If then the Pro­phets, if the Apostles, if the Evangelists, yea, if Almightie God himselfe doe crie out unto thee, and say, Take heed thou miserable man, for death is in that kind of meat, and death dooth lie lur­king in that gluttonous morsell, which the de­vill hath set before thee? Howe darest thou reach for everlasting death with thine owne handes, and [Page] drinke thine owne dam­nation. Where is the applying of thy wits, thy judgement, and the dis­course and reason which thou hast of a spirituall man? Where is their light, where is their force? Sith that none of them doe bridle thee anie whit from thy common usuall vices. Oh thou wretched and carelesse creature, be▪ witched by the common enemie Sathan, adjudged to everlasting darkenesse, both inward and outward, and so doest goe from one darkenesse to the other. [Page] Thou art blind to see thine owne miserie, insensible to understand thine owne perdition, and harder than any Adamant, to feele the hammer of Gods word. Oh, a thousand times most miserable thou art, woorthie to be lamen­ted with none other teares, than with those wherewith thy damnation was la­mented, when it was said, Luke 19. Oh, that thou knewest this day the peace, quietnesse, and treasures, which Almightie God hath offered unto thee, that doe now lie hidden from [Page] thine eyes. Oh miserable is the day of thy nativitie, and much more miserable the day of thy death: for­somuch, as that shall bee the beginning of thine e­verlasting damnation. Oh, how much better had it beene for thee, never to have beene borne, if thou shalt bee damned in the horrible pit of hell for e­ver, where the torments are perpetually durable. How much better had it beene for thee never to have beene baptised, nor yet to have received the Christian faith, if through [Page] the abusing thereof by thy wicked life, thy damnation shall therby be the greater? For if the light of reas [...]n onely sufficeth to make the Heathen Philosophers in­excuseable, because they knowing God in some de­gree, did not glorifie him nor serve him (as the A­postle s [...]yth in the first to the Romanes;) how much lesse shall he be ex­cused, that hath received the light of faith, and the water of Baptisme, yea, and the holy Sacrament of the bodie & bloud of our Lord and Saviour Iesus Christ, [Page] hearing dayly the doctrine of the Gospell, if hee doe nothing more than those Pagan Philosophers have done.

Now, what other thing may wee inferre of the premisses, but breefely to conclude, That there is none other understan­ding, none other wisdome, none other counsell in the world, but that setting a­side all the impediments and combersome daunge­rous wayes of this life, wee follow that onely true and certaine way, whereby true peace and everlasting life [Page] is obtained. Hereunto are wee called by reason, by wisedome, by law, by hea­ven, by earth, by hell, and by the life, death, justice, and mercie of Almightie God. Hereunto are wee also very notably invited by the holy Ghost, spea­king by the mouth of Ec­clesiasticus in the sixt chap­ter, in this wise: My sonne hearken to instruction e­ven from the first yeares of thy youth, and in thy latter dayes thou shalt enjoy the sweet fruit of wisedome: Approch unto it, as one that ploweth and soweth, [Page] and with patience expect the fruitfull encrease which it shall yeeld unto thee. The paines that thou shalt take, shall be but little, and the benefites that thou shalt speedily enjoy, shall be great. My son hearken to my words, and neglect not this my counsell which I shall give thee, put thy feet willingly into her fetters, and thy necke in­to [...]er chaines: bow downe thy shoulders, and carrie her upon thee, and bee not displeased with her bonds: approch neare un­to her with all thy heart, [Page] and follow her wayes with all thy strength, seeke for her with all thy diligence, and shee will make her selfe knowne unto thee, and after that thou hast found her, never forsake her: for by her shalt thou find rest in thy latter daies, and that which before did seeme so painefull unto thee, will afterwards be­come very pleasant. Her fetters shall be a defence or thy strength, and a foundation of vertue, and her chaine shall bee a robe of glorie: for in her is the beautie of life, and [Page] her bonds are the bonds of health. Hetherto Eccle­siasticus. Whereby thou maiest understand in some degree, howe great the beautie, the delights, the libertie, and riches of true wisdome are, which is ver­tue it selfe, and the know­ledge of Almightie God, whereof wee doe intreat. But if all this bee insuffici­ent to mollifie our stonie hearts, lift up thine eyes, and fix thy thoughts con­stantly to behold our om­nipotent God in his mer­cie and love towards sin­ners upon his dying crosse, [Page] where hee made full satis­faction for thy sins. There shalt thou behold him in this forme: his feet nayled fast, looking for thee, his armes spread abroad to receive thee, and his head bowing downe, to give thee, as to another pro­digall sonne, new kisses of peace and attonement. From thence hee calleth thee (if thou wouldest heare) with so manie callings and cries as there bee wounds in his whole bodie. Hearken thou ther­fore unto these voyces, and consider well with thy [Page] selfe, that if his praier bee not heard that hearkeneth not unto the cries of the poore, how much lesse shall he be heard, that ma­keth himselfe deafe to such cries as these, beeing the most mercifull cryings of our loving saviour, and in­tended for our soules sal­vation. Who is hee that hath not cause to resolve himselfe wholly into teares to weepe and bewaile his manifold offences? Who is he that can lament, and will not lament at this? Vn­lesse hee bee such a one as seeth not, nor careth not [Page] what great shipwrack, wast, and havocke he maketh of all the riches and treasures of his soule.


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