TO the end there might want nothing to ſtirre up our mindes to ver • e, after the paines which Almighty God threatneth to the wicked, he doth alſo ſet before us the reward of the good: which is, that glory and everlaſting life which the bleſſed Saints doe enjoy in Heaven, whereby he doth 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 kinde of ſavour and knowledge thereof, I intend here to rehearſe even word for word what S. Auguſtine ſaith in one of his meditations, ſpeaking o • the life everlaſting (enſuing thi • tranſitorie time) and of the joyes of the bleſſed Saints in Heaven. O life (ſaith 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 griefe, 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 can annoy, where love is perfect, and no feare at all, where the day is everlaſting, and the ſpirit of all is one; where Almighty God is ſeene face to face, who is the onely meate whereupon they feed without loathſomeneſſe: it delighteth mee to conſider thy brightneſſe, and thy treaſures doe rejoyce my longing heart. The more I conſider thee, the more I am ſtriken in love with thee. The great deſire I have of thee, doth wonderfully delight me, and no leſſe pleaſure is it to me, to keepe thee in my remembrance. O life moſt happy, O kingdome truly bleſſed, wherein there is no death nor end, neither yet ſucceſſion of time, where the day continuing evermore without night, knoweth not any mutation; where the victorious Conqueror being joyned with thoſe everlaſting quires of Angels, and having his head crowned with a garland of glory, ſingeth unto Almighty God one of the ſongs of Sion. Oh happy, yea, and moſt happy ſhould my ſoule be, if when the race of this my pilgrimage is ended, I might bee worthy to ſee thy glory, thy bleſſedneſſe, thy beauty, the wals and gates of thy Citie, 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 throughout with Saphirs, and covered about with maſſie gold, where no uncleane thing may enter, neither doth any abide there that is defiled. Faire and beautifull in thy delights art thou O Ieruſalem our mother, none of thoſe things are ſuffered in thee, that are ſuffered here. There is great diverſitie betweene thy things and the things that wee 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 Starres, but God that proceedeth of God, and the light that commeth of light, is he that giveth clearenes 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 ſweere and melodious harmony. There is celebrated a perpetuall ſolemnity and feaſt with every one of them that cōmeth thither, after his departure out of this pilgrimage. There be the orders of Prophets; there is the famous company of the Apoſtles; there is the invincible army of Martyrs; there is the moſt reverentaſſembly of confeſſors; there are the true and perfect religious perſons; there are the holy Virgins, which have overcome both the pleaſures of the world, and the frailty of their owne nature; there are the young men and young women, more ancient in vertue than in yeares; there are the ſheepe and little lambes that have eſcaped from the Wolves, and from the deceitfull ſnares of this life, and therefore doe now keepe a perpetuall feaſt, each one in his place, all alike in joy, though different in degree. There Charity raigneth in her full perfection, for unto them God is all in all, whom they behold without end, in whoſe love they bee all continually inflamed, whom they doe alwaies love, and in loving doe praiſe, and in praiſing, doe love, and all their exerciſes conſiſt in praiſes, 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 body, I might be thought worthy to heare thoſe ſongs of that heavenly melody, ſung in the praiſe of the everlaſting King, by all the Citizens of that ſo noble Citie. 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 Hallelujah. If I might bee neare to my King, my God, my Lord, and ſee him in his glory, even as he hath promiſed me, when he ſaid: O Father, this is my laſt determinate will, that all thoſe that thou haſt given unto me, may be with me, and ſee the glory which I had with thee before the world was created. Hetherto are the words of S. Auguſtine. Now tell me (Chriſtian brother) what a day of glorious ſhine ſhall that be unto thee (if thou lead thy life in Gods feare) when after the courſe of this pilgrimage, thou ſhalt paſſe from death to immortality; and in that paſſage, when others ſhall beginne to feare, thou ſhalt beginne to rejoyce, and lift up thy head, becauſe the day of thy deliverance is at hand. Come forth a little (ſaith 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 me, what a day ſhall that bee, when our Lord himſelfe with all his Saints, ſhall come and meete thee in the way, ſaying unto thee: Ariſe and make haſt O my beloved, my delight, and my Turtle dove, for now the VVinter is paſt, and the tempeſtuous waters are ceaſed, the flowers doe beginne to appeare in our land. Cant. 2. How great joy ſhall thy ſoule then receive, when it ſhall be at that time preſented before the Throne of the moſt bleſſed Trinity, by the hands of the holy Angels, and when ſhall be declared 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 ſhee had given them: wherewith the Apoſtle being moved, made his prayer unto Almighty God for that ſo mercifull a woman, and by his prayers he raiſed her againe to life. Now what a gladneſſe will it be to thy ſoule, when in the middeſt of thoſe bleſſed ſpirits thou ſhalt bee placed, with remembrance of thy almesdeeds, thy prayers and faſtings, the innocency of thy life, 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 deeds that thou haſt wrought; how clearely then ſhalt thou underſtand the value and the excellencie of vertue. There the obedient man ſhall talke of victories; there vertue ſhall receive her reward, and the good honoured according to their merit. Moreover, vvhat a pleaſure vvill it bee unto thee, when thou ſhalt ſee thy ſelfe to bee in that ſure haven, and ſhalt looke back upon the courſe of thy navigation which thou haſt ſailed here in this life: when thou ſhalt remember the tempeſts wherein thou haſt beene toſſed, the ſtraits through which thou haſt paſſed, and the dangers of theeves and pyrats, from whom thou haſt eſcaped. There is the place where they ſhall ſing the ſong of the Prophet, which ſaith, Had it not beene that our Lord had beene mine helper, it could not be but my ſoule had gone into hell. Eſpecially, when from thence thou ſhalt behold ſo many ſins as are committed every houre in the world, ſo many ſoules as doe deſcend every day into hell, and how it hath pleaſed Almighty God, that among ſuch a multitude of damned perſons, thou ſhouldſt be of the number of his elect, and one of thoſe to whom he would grant ſuch exceeding great felicity and glory. Beſides all this, what a goodly ſight will it bee to ſee thoſe ſeats filled up, and the Citie builded, and the wals of that noble Ieruſalem repaired againe? With what chearefull 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 weakeneſſe of their owne fraile nature. There ſhall they enter which have ſuffered martyrdome for Chriſts ſake, with double triumph over the fleſh and the world, adorned with all coeleſtiall glory. 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: ſweete is the cold evening after the hot ſunnie day; ſweete is the fountaine to the weary thirſtie travailer; ſweet is reſt and ſleepe to the tired ſervant: but much more ſweet is it to the Saints in Heaven to enjoy peace after warre, ſecurity 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 caſt away their armour, and forgetting all feare and turmoile of warre, each one under the ſhaddow of his pavillion & harbour enjoyed the fruit of their ſweete peace. Now may the watching Prophet come downe from his ſtanding, that did watch and fix his feete upon the place of the Sentinell: There is no more feare of invaſion by the terrible armies of the bloody enemies: there is no place for the ſubtill crafts of the lurking viper: there cannot arive the deadly ſight of the venomous Baſſeliske, nor yet ſhall the hiſſing of the ancient Serpent be heard there, but onely the ſoft breathing ayre of the Holy Ghoſt; wherein is beholden the glory of Almighty God. This is the region of all peace, the place of ſecurity, ſituated above all the Elements, whether the cloudes and ſtormie winds of the darke ayre cannot come. O what glorious things have beene ſpoken of thee, O Citie of God. Bleſſed are they (ſaith holy Tobias) that love thee, and enjoy thy peace. O my ſoule praiſe our Lord, for he hath delivered Ieruſalem his Citie from all her troubles. Happy ſhall I be, if the remnant of my poſterity might come to ſee the cleareneſſe of Ieruſalem: her gates ſhall be wrought with Saphirs and Emeraulds, and all the circuit of her wals ſhall bee built with precious ſtones, her ſtreets ſhall bee paved with white and poliſhed marble, and in all parts of her territories ſhall bee ſung Hallelujah. O joyfull countrey! O ſweete glory! O bleſſed company! who ſhall be thoſe ſo fortunate and happy that are elected for thee? It ſeemeth a preſumption to deſire thee, and yet I will not live without the deſire of thee. O ye ſonnes of Adam, a race of men, miſerably blinded and deceived. O ye ſcattered ſheepe, wandring out of your right way, if this be your ſheep-coat, whether goe you backeward? What meane you? Why ſuffer you ſuch an excellent benefit to be wilfully loſt for not taking ſo little paines? What wiſe man would not deſire, that all labour & paine of the world were impoſed unto him? that all ſorrowes, afflictions, and diſeaſes were even powred upon him as thicke as haile; that perſecutions, tribulations, and griefes, with one to moleſt him, another to diſquiet him, yea, that all creatures in the world did conſpire againſt him, being ſcorned and 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 finde repoſe in the heavenly harbor of eternall conſolation, and bee thought meet to have a place among that bleſſed people, which are adorned and beautified with ſuch ineſtimable glory. And thou, O fooliſh lover of this miſerable world, go thy way, ſeeke as long as thou wilt for honours and promotions, build ſumptuous houſes and pallaces, purchaſe lands and poſſeſſions, inlarge thy territories and dominions, yea, command if thou wilt the whole world, yet ſhalt thou never be ſo great as the leaſt of all the ſervants of Almighty God, who ſhall receive that treaſure which this world cannot give, and ſhall enjoy that felicity, which ſhall endure for evermore, when thou with thy pompe and riches, ſhall beare the rich glutton company, whoſe buriall is in the deepe vault of hell: but the devout ſpirituall man ſhall bee carried by the holy Angels with poore Lazarus into Abrahams boſome, a place of perpetuall reſt, joy, ſolace, and eternall happineſſe.

VAnitie of vanities, and all is but vanitie, ſaith the wiſeſt Preacher that ever wrote: One generation paſſeth and another commeth, and all is but vexation of ſpirit. Which divine theorem, that we may the better perceive, let us ſet our ſelves to the ſerious meditation of it: for the more we ſearch, the more we ſhall ſee all things to be vanity, nothing conſtant, nothing for our eternall good, but our ſoules ſalvation. Mans life on earth doth no ſooner begin, but his end approacheth, his death haſteneth. Some come upon the ſtage of this world but to have a breathing, and are preſently gone: others ſtay a while longer, it may be a day, perhaps a weeke, perhaps a month, peradventure a yeare, or it may bee ſome few yeares: but alas! the longer they ſtay, the greater their griefe, care, feare, and anxietie of minde. Even in the infancy of age man is oft times left as Moſes ſometime was, in the flouds of miſery; but as age increaſeth, ſorrow increaſeth, becauſe ſinne increaſeth: when youth runnes moſt at randome, and thinketh it ſelfe moſt ſafe, it is then hemm'd in with greateſt dangers; then the raſhfoole-hardy minde of man hurrieth him headlong to hell, except the irreſiſtible power of Gods preventing grace doth ſpeedily ſtay him; then his wits are even intoxicated with a frenzie of iniquity, and wholly bent upon riotouſneſſe, raſhneſſe, luxury, jollitie, ſuperfluity and exceſſe in carnall pleaſures. Hee then devoteth his time and addicteth himſelfe to all manner of evill, drinking, dancing, revelling, ſwaggering, ſwearing, whoring, gaming, quarreling, fighting; and in the meane while never thinkes on Heaven, nor feareth hell. His head is frought with vanities his heart with fallacies, where by his ſoule is brought into • labyrinth of inextricable miſeries. So great is the temerity o • his unadviſed minde, that n • conſideration of Gods judgements, either paſt, or preſent, or to come, can ſet a ſtop to his wickedneſſe. His youthfullneſſe damps at no bogges, quagmires, hils, or mountaines; but wingeth him over all impediments, mounts him over all motives that might way-lay his ſinnes. He ſticks not to offen • his maker, to recrucifie his Redeemer, to reſiſt (ſhall I ſay his Sanctifier, no, but) the Spirit whom God hath given to be his ſanctifier: and if hee ſo carry himſelfe toward theſe, no mervaile that he derideth his Tutor, ſcornes the Miniſter (like the little children that mock'd Eliſha) oppreſſeth his poore brother (as Pharaoh did the Iſraelites:) ſpareth not Infants (no more then Herod did) regardeth not parents, (no more then Hophni and Phinias did.) Let the mother direct him; the father correct him, his ancients inſtruct him, alas! all is in vaine: youth makes men head-ſtrong, ſelfe-conceited and proud, ſo that they ſwell with an overweening opinion of their owne worth; they thinke themſelves the onely wits of the time, the onely men of the world, more fit to teach others then to learne themſelves, more able to give then to take advice. If they go on a while in their lewd courſes without the reſtraining and renewing Grace of God, they get a habit of evill, are hardned through the cuſtome of ſinne, none may reſiſt them, none compare with them, no law of God or man can reſtraine them; They take counſell together againſt Pſal. 2. 2, 3. the Lord, and againſt his annointed, ſaying, Let us breake their bands aſunder, and caſt away their cords from us. Whereupon oftentimes (the ripeneſſe of ſinn • being haſtened by outragiouſneſſe Nequities vitae non ſini • eſſe ſenem. of ſinning) God ſuddenly cuts them off, in their intemperancy, luxury, quarrels, and diſorders; which ſhewes the • vaineneſſe to be meere vanity. Suppoſe they grow as great as Tamberlaine, yet a Gunne, Pike, Arrow; nay, a Fly, Flea, or Gnat, a dram, nay, a drop of poyſon, proves them to bee vaine men: one of theſe ſilly creatures may ſend him preſently to his Creator to receive his finall doome. Yet alas! what doe theſe moſt minde? The bum-baſted ſilken Gallants of our time, that come forth like a May morning, decked with all the glory of Art; the Epicurean Cormerants, the guſ • ing and tipling toſſe-pots, the dainty painting Dames, the dedicate mincing Ladies, the ſweet-ſinging Syrens, the dancing Damſels, the finicall youths, the couzening Shopkeeper, the crafty Crafts-man: I ſay, what doe all theſe, but ſet their minds upon vanitie, upon glory, honour, pride, droſſe, and ſuch like traſh, which weighed in the ballance of the Sanctuary prove lighter then vanity? Doe we not ſometime ſee more ſpent upon one ſuite in Law then would keepe a poore Country towne with the inhabitants for a whole yeare? See wee not more ſpent upon one ſuite of apparell, for one proud carkaſſe, then would build Free-ſchoole? So that the cloathes on many a Gallant backe exceeds his Rent-day See wee not more ſpent upon Feaſt to ſatisfie the curioſity o • a few, then would ſatisfie th • neceſſity of a hundred poore wretches almoſt famiſhed to death? See wee not more drunke in a Taverne at one ſitting by a ſmall company, then would ſerve a troope of ſturdy Souldiers in the field? Many goe daily to the Tavern, where they ſticke not to ſpend their twelve pence, who would grudge to give one penny, nay, one farthing to a hungry begger. Againe, is there not now more ſpent upon a Ladies feather, then would pay a meane mans tythes? Is there not more ſpent upon one paire of ſleeves, then would cloath ſixe bodies? and more ſpent at a Whitſunale, then would keepe the poore of the Pariſh for a yeare? Have wee not amongſt our Gentry, ſome of the female ſexe, who will ſpend more upon a Glaſſe and a pot of complexion, then they will give a whole yeare at their gate? they muſt be menders of that which God makes, makers of that which God marres, turning themſelves (like the Camelion) into all ſhapes, though never ſo griſly and ougly; and being never well till they be moſt ill, never (as they conceit) in faſhion, till indeede they be out of all faſhion. If this be not a vanity of vanities, who can tell what is vanity? Every man is an eye-witneſſe of this vanity, the more is the pittie that it ſhould bee ſo common: your Lady, the Merchants wife, the trades mans wife, nay, all of all ſorts are a degree above their eſtate. Your Gallant is no man, unleſſe his haire bee of the womans faſhion, dangling and waving over his ſhoulders; your woman no body, except (contrary to the modeſty of her ſexe) ſhee be halfe (at leaſt) of the mans faſhion: ſhee jets, ſhe cuts, ſhee rides, ſhe ſweares, ſhe games, ſhe ſmoakes, ſhee drinkes, and what not that is evill? Shee is in the univerſall portraiture of her behaviour, as well as in her accoutrements, more then halfe a man; the man on the other ſide, no leſſe womaniſh. We may well admire and exclaime with the Poet, O tempora! O mores! O the times! O the manners of theſe times! O quantum eſt in rebus mane! O how great a nothing is there in all things! What a vanity of vanity hath overſpread the age we live in? Were our forefathers now alive to be ſpectators of this vanity, it would ſtrike them into amazement. In their dayes the Pike, the Speare, the Sword, the Bowe, the Arrow, Musket and Caliever, with the warlike Horſe, were the object of exerciſe and recreation: Now the Pot, the Pipe, Dice and Cards, and ſuch like vanities, indeed worſe then the quinteſſence of the extreameſt vanity. We are now all for eaſe, wee muſt lye ſoft, fare deliciouſly, goe ſumptuouſly, drinke Wine in bowles, carowſe healths, till health bee quite drunke away; nay, we muſt kneele to our drinke, when we will not kneele to him that gave us our drinke; we doe homage to that which takes away the uſe of our legges, nay, of our braines, our hearts, wits, ſence, reaſon, when we refuſe homage to him that gave us all theſe. O vaine man that doſt thus forget thy God, and abuſe thy ſelfe! why doſt thou thus ſuffer thy ſelfe to be ſwallowed up in the gulfe of vanity, which hath no bottome but miſery? Why ſuffereſt thou the Divell thus to take thee on the hip, that he may caſt thee downe into the Abiſſe of hell? Art thou ſo bewitched with that which will have an end, a ſudden end, a wretched end? Thy honey will prove Gall in the end, and thy Wine, Vinegar. In theſe faire roſes of vanity the Divell hides his pins, that ſhall pricke thee, when thou lookeſt to be refreſhed with their ſweet ſmels. Theſe vanities we purchaſe at no eaſie rate; it is with the procurement of puniſhment, and loſſe of happineſſe: As the bird that accepts of the Fowlers meat, buyes it full dearely, with the loſſe of her owne life: ſo when we accept theſe vanities from the Divell, it is with the loſſe of better things, in price above the whole world. In theſe contracts with Satan, we make Eſau's penniworth, ſell Heaven for a meſſe of pottage; Glaucus exchange, Gold for Copper. Now thou art pompering thy corruptible fleſh; but let pale death ſtep in, and clap thee on the ſhoulder, wher's thy mirth, wher's thy felicity? thy voluptuous vanity doth preſently expire. There is a banquet ſet before thee, in which are all varieties of delicacies, but alas! every one poyſoned: dareſt thou touch or taſte any one of them? by ſin thou poyſoneſt all thoſe outward bleſſings of God, which in themſelves are wholeſome and good: and wilt thou ingurgitate that which is poyſon to thy ſoule? Tell me, when all is done, two or three hundred yeares hence, what thou wilt be the better for all thy dainties, more then the poore man that never taſted them? Nay, how much better in the day of triall, and at the houre of death? Then all thy pride, pompe, and pleaſure ſhall be turned into ſqualed deformity, & irrecoverable calamity; then vanity ſhewes it ſelfe in the proper colours, then death, and knell, and hell doe all conſpire to aggravate thy ſorrow; yea, then hell begins to come to thee before thou come to it; thy eyes ſleepe not, thy ſenſes reſt not, thy perplexed heart burnes within thee, thy wounded conſcience bleeds within thee; thou ſeeſt nothing but terror, thou feeleſt nothing but horror; thou thinkeſt thy ſelfe to be haunted with ſprights, ghoſts, and helliſh furies, ſtinging thee with Adders, purſuing thee with Torches and fire-brand. That ſaying of the Heathen man is then, if not before, verified: Suae quemque exagitant furiae; every man is tormented with his owne fury, which is his conſcience. Beſides thy wife, children, or other friends (to the exaſperating of thy griefe) doe ſtand about thee weeping, as loath to part from thee: whereas thy ſinnes follow thee, and will follow thee, doe what thou canſt; hell gapes before thee with a wide mouth as ready to devoure thee, deſtruction on both ſides attends thee: backe thou canſt not goe, for a dead corps followes thee ſo neere that thou canſt not part from it, it is tied unto thee with an indiſſolveable knot; beſides, conſcience followes thee, and cries out againſt thee, and will not leave thee; continually it preſents thee with the dreadfull ſpectacle of thy dolefull and wofull ſinnes. If this were now ſeriouſly conſidered, how would it make thy heart to ake with grieving, thy eyes to ſwell with weeping, thy hands to bee alwaies lifted up, thy knees ever bended? How wouldeſt thou ſtrive to ſubdue thy fleſh to the ſpirit, ſenſuality to reaſon, reaſon to faith, and faith to the ſervice of God? But thou doſt not now conſider this, that thy ſinne is ſo faſt linkt to thy conſcience, that at the laſt (albeit not before) it will pull and hale thee, and rack and prick thy conſcience, which wil accuſe, convict, & condemne thee: all thy vanities, all thy iniquities, will then purſue thee like ſo many furious ghoſts. Then ex ore tuo, out of thy own mouth ſhalt thou be judged, thou evill ſervant: thy owne mouth ſhall confeſſe that thou haſt followed nothing but vanity: What a vanity was it for me to make earth my heaven, and ſo to admire and even adore this earth, that it is a hell to forſake it? What a wofull bargaine have I made to ſell my ſoule for vanity? I was borne in vanity, I have lived in vanity, and it is my feare that I ſhall dye in vanity. Oh how griefe followeth griefe? my heart is terrified, my thoughts hurried, my conſcience tortured, I fry in anguiſh, I freeze in paine, I ſtand agaſt and know not which way to turne me: my friends muſt forſake me, my foes wil deride me, my earthly joyes and comforts (I ſhould call them vanities) have betraid me. Indeed my friends may goe with me to the grave, but there they muſt leave me; my riches, pleaſures, and ſuch like vanities vaniſh before; but my ſinnes and conſcience will never leave me; the divell will ſtill purſue me: hee that tempts me now to ſinne, will then torment me for ſinning, untill I cry out with Caine, My puniſhment is greater then I can beare. A horſe is but a vaine thing to ſave a man, ſaid the ſweet ſinger of Iſrael: ſo ſay I, all earthly things are too vaine to ſave a man, to make him bleſſed, I appeale to the conſcience of every man, if thou haſt tried the pleaſures of vanity (and who hath not?) whether thou maiſt not take up the words of Saint Paul, What fruit have I of thoſe Rom. 6. 12. things, whereof I am now aſhamed? Shame, and griefe, and guilt, and puniſhment are the fruit of vanity: enough I thinke to rend our hearts from affecting of it. Thinke upon this thou that art in the trace of vanity, that thou maiſt make a retreat; looſe no more time herein (for thou haſt already loſt too much) redeeme the time, becauſe the dayes are evill; and why are they evill, but becauſe they are vaine? Whatſoever is without the circumference of evill, is above the ſphere of vanity. Reſolve therefore with thy ſelfe that all things earthly, worldly, carnall, ſinfull, are vaine: the faſhion of this world paſſeth away, ſaith the Apoſtle, 1 Cor. 7. 3. The faſhion, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , a word very emphaticall: it ſignifies firſt an accidentall and externall figure without ſubſtance; ſecondly, the habit, veſture or cloathing of a thing. Saint Paul uſeth this word to debaſe the world, by intimating unto us, that the world is cloathed with a veſture, that is, wearing and waſting, the faſhion of it laſteth but for a time, it is ready every houre to put on a new faſhion: againe, by intimating unto us that the world is without any ſubstantiall forme, like unto ſhewes and ſhadowes, that vaniſh in the repreſentation. Saint Luke cals all Agrippa's pompe but a fancie: David cals the yeares of a man but a tale, Pſal. 90. 9. We ſpend our yeares as a tale that is told. As a tale, nay, as a thought (for ſo much the originall word doth import) and how many thoughts may a man have in an houre? Nothing is more changable then a veſture, nothing more fugitive then a ſhadow, nothing more fickle then a fancie, nothing more ſwift then thought. What a diſproportion therefore is it for the immortall ſoule of a man to bee faſtened unto things which are of ſuch a variable nature? What a folly for us to preferre thoſe which are but momentary (for ſo I may more truely call them then temporall) unto thoſe things which are indeed eternall? Glaſſes are in great uſe amongſt us, yet becauſe of their brittleneſſe who eſteemes them precious? Wee ſmell to flowers, becauſe they are ſweet; but becauſe they are fading, we regard them thereafter. It were well if we would deale thus with all other vanities, viz. regard them as they are: uſe the creatures we may, but not abuſe them; ſerve our ſelves of them, but not ſerve them; injoy them, but not overjoy in them.

Now becauſe examples are very effectuall, whether we uſe them by way of dehortation, or whether by way of exhortation, let me propound one or two in this matter whereof I am treating, that by them thou maiſt be beaten off from the vanities and iniquities of this preſent evill world. When Alexander in the height of his glory kept Conventum terrariō orbis. a Parliament of the whole world, himſelfe was ſummoned by death to appeare in another world. It was a wonderfull preſident of the vanity and variety of humane condition (ſaith the Hiſtorian) to ſee mighty Juſtin. l. 2. Zerxes flote and flye away in a ſmall veſſel, who before wanted Sea-roome for his Ships. When Belſhazzar was laughing and Dan. 5. quaffing with his Princes and Concubines, carowſing healths in the ſacred Veſſels; deaths ſecretary, the hand-writing on the wall, told him he was weighed in the ballance, and his Kingdome was finiſhed. And before him his father Nebuchadnezzar (at that time the greateſt Monarch in the world) as hee was ſtrouting in his Galleries, and boaſting of his owne power and honour, a voyce from Heaven told him that his Kingdome was departed from him, that he Dan. 4. ſhould be driven from amongſt men, that hee ſhould have his dwelling with the Beaſts of the field, &c. And the ſentence was fulfilled on him the ſame houre. So Zedekiah was a lively ſpectacle 2 King. 25. of this worlds vanity and miſery, who of a potent King became a miſerable captive, ſaw his children ſlaine before his face, after that had his eyes put out, and died miſerably in priſon. I had almoſt forgotten Salomon, the wiſeſt King that ever Eccl. • . was, having given himſelfe to take pleaſure in pleaſant things, having made great workes, built goodly Houſes, planted Vineyards, Gardens, and Orchards, and planted in them trees of all fruit, and having gathered ſilver and gold, and the chiefe treaſures of Kings and Provinces, being now full of wiſedome, and ſchooled with experience, he is licenſed to give his ſentence of the whole world, and every man knowes what his cenſure was: Vanity of vanities, Eccl 1. 2. vanity of vanities, all is vanity. This wiſe King travelled all the world over, and the further he went the more vanity he did ſee, and the neerer hee looked, the greater it ſeemed, till at laſt he could ſee nothing but vanity. Wouldſt thou know what is to bee ſeene, or heard, or had in this vaſt Univerſe? Vanity ſaith Salomon, yea vanity of vanities; and what elſe? Vanity of vanities. And what elſe? All is vanity. Nothing beneath the Moone that hath not a tincture of vanity. Nay, the Moone it ſelf, the Sunne, all the Planets, all the Starres, the whole body of the Heavens, is become ſubject to Vanity. The creature is ſubject unto Vanity, ſaith the Apoſtle, Rom. 8. 20. that is, the whole frame of the world, conſiſting of the coeleſtiall and elementary region, the viſible heavens with all their goodly furniture of Starres and of coeleſtiall bodies, and the earth with her ornaments, and the other elements. The Heavens ſhall periſh, Pſ. 102▪ 26. and they ſhall waxe old as doth a garment, and the Lord ſhall change them as a veſture, and they ſhall bee changed. As a garment the older it waxeth, the leſſe comely it is, the leſſe able to warme him that weares it: ſo the materiall heavens by continuance of yeares decreaſe in beauty and veitue. The neerer the Sunne drawes to the end of his daily courſe, the leſſe is his ſtrength; in the evening wee feele the Sunne to decay in his heat, and he waxeth alway the weaker. Now if thoſe ſuperiour bodies, then much more things inferiour and ſublunary are included within the compaſſe of vanity.

But it was my purpoſe when I firſt ſet upon this ſubject, ſo ample and large, to be ſo much the more ſhort: even underſtanding can of it ſelf ſcourſe, where ſuch plenty of • atter is offered. I have there •• re (according to the modell • f that gift which God hath •• en me) contrived a great picture in a little ring, ſet forth the • eat vanity of this world in a •• tle Map.

Let us now learne the leſſon • f Saint Iohn, the beloved Diſ •• ple of Chriſt, who wrote ſo • uch of love, doth yet dehort • from loving the world, 1 Iohn • 15. Love not the world, neither • e things that are in the world. Why not the world? for three • aſons: 1. If any man love the • orld, the love of the Father is not • him. 2. All that is in the world, • e luſt of the fleſh, the luſt of the •• s, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world 3. The World paſſeth away, and the luſt thereof: that is, it is vain and vaniſhing, yea in the abſtract Vanity. For theſe reaſon we muſt not ſuffer our hearts t • cleave to the beſt things in th • world, as if happineſſe were t • be found in them. Follow th • counſell of the Holy Ghoſ • 1 Cor. 7. 31. Uſe this world 〈◊〉 though thou uſed it not, for th • faſhion of this world goeth 〈◊〉 way. Uſe the things of th • world as helpes to thee in th • travell to heaven-ward, but 〈◊〉 them not ſteale away thy hea •• from better things, from Go • and Chriſt, and Heaven, an • peace of conſcience, and joy the Holy Ghoſt: theſe muſt d • light the heart of a Chriſtian, who was redeemed, not with corruptible things, as ſilver and gold, 1 Pet. 1 19. but with the precious bloud of Jeſus Chriſt, in compariſon of whom all the things of the world muſt ſeeme loſſe and droſſe, and dung, and whatſoever is moſt deſpicable in the eyes of man. If riches increaſe, ſet not thy heart upon them: no • reaſure, no pleaſure, no honour, nor gold, nor plate, nor jewels, Pſ. 26. 10. nor houſe, nor land, nor apparell, nor friends, muſt ſteale away thy heart. We muſt be • ffected to theſe things, as Theodoricke the good King of A •• taine In 〈◊〉 i • ctib •• tacet, in ma •• rides, in utriſque Philoſophatur was with his play; * In good caſts he was ſilent, in ill mer • y, in neither angry, in both a Phyloſopher, or a wiſe man. We muſt not make theſe a rivall unto God, we muſt not leaue upon theſe by our confidence: for they are a reed that ſhall quickly breake, and the ſhivers will run into our hand.

Death is the moſt terrible of all things that are terrible, ſaid the Philoſopher Ariſtotle: it is terrible both to man and beaſt, but moſt terrible to a wicked man that is worſe then a beaſt, when he remembers his ſinfull life paſt, the complexion of his fleſh, the paleneſſe of his face, the diſſolution of his members, the rottenneſſe of his bones, the obſcureneſſe of his grave, the ſolitarineſſe of his ſepulcher, the gnawing of wormes, and the like. But alas (albeit theſe are terrible, yet) theſe are nothing without the conſideration of ſin, which is the ſting of death, the ſtrength and victory of the grave. Thinke upon thy ſinnes, whereof thou art guilty, and for which thou muſt dye, as the condemned malefactor that after ſentence pronounced, is hurried to the fatall place of execution, to ſuffer deſerved puniſhment. Remember, yea againe and againe. I ſay, remember, how miſerably, how violently, how ſuddainely, others have ſuffered death, that were guilty of thoſe ſins which are more predominant in thee then they were in them. Art thou a thiefe? which thou maiſt be, though thou wert never attached for theft by the lawes of men; for covetouſneſſe is a Pick-purſe before God: read and remember how Achan dyed, Ioſh. 7. Art thou a whoremaſter? which thou maiſt bee as well in thy minde as in thy body: then read and remember how Hophni 2 Sam. 3. Numb. 25. 8. and Phineas dyed, how Zimri and Cesbi were ſlaine in the very act of their uncleanneſſe. And Iezabel an impudent ſtrumpet dyed a ſodaine and ſhamefull death. Art thou a blaſphemous ſwearer that doſt rend & grinde the ſacred name of God betweene thy teeth? Remember him under the Law that was ſtoned to death for his blaſphemy. Art thou an Idolatrous impe of the Popiſh Church, that doſt leave our Lord to worſhip our Lady, and give that honour to Saints, nay, to ſtockes and ſtones, which is proper to God alone? call to minde how Sennacherib was ſlaine in the midſt Iſa. 37. ult. of his Idolatry. Art thou an intemperate drunkard, that doſt ſacrifice thy time and ſtate, nay, ſoule and body unto Bacchus, riſing early to drinke ſtrong drinke, and ſitting up late till Wine inflame thee? thinke upon Belſhazzar that was ſlaine in the midſt of his cups, whilſt Dan. • ▪ ult. he was drinking in that Wine, which the ſwords of his inſulting enemies drew out of him together with his lateſt blood. Art thou a covetous Uſurer, that doſt let out thy money to men, thy time to Mammon, and thy ſoule to Satan, that like a common Hackney jade wilt not beare thy debtors one houre paſt thy day? or art thou a griping oppreſſor, that doſt racke thy poore tenants, and exact upon thy neighbour, to gaine a little tranſitory traſh? Remember Nabal, and remember that Miſer in the Goſpell, who being Lut. 12 aſleep in ſecurity, and dreaming of enlarged barns and plentifull harveſts, was ſodainly bereft of all, and being awaked upon the hearing of his Soule-knell perceived himſelf to be forever wrerched. Conſider whether theſe and the like ſinners, that have made their ſouls the ſlaves of vanity, have not in the end made themſelves the ſlaves of miſery. Have they proſpered, or have they periſhed? if they have proſpered, then follow them; if periſhed (as indeed they have) then in the feare of God retire out of their paths, left thou bee ſpeedily cut off, having no information of the danger, till thine own eyes amazed with the ſodainneſſe behold it in the ſhape of inevitable damnation. Be thou warned by their examples; for God hath puniſhed ſinne in them, to prevent ſinne in thee: Vt exempla Cyprian ſer. 5. de Lapſ. ſint omnium, torment a paucorum; that the torments of ſome few may be terrours unto all: like as thunderbolts fall (Paucorum periculo, ſed omnium metu) to the hurt but of few, though not without the horror of all. That ſhip which ſees another ſhip ſinke before her, lookes about her, puls downe her ſaile, turneth her courſe, and eſcapes the ſands, which elſe would ſwallow her up as they did the other. When the earth ſwallowed up Corah and his confederates, all Iſrael that were round about them, fled at the cry of them, for they ſaid, Leſt the earth ſwallow us up alſo, Num. 16. 34. The Bird will not light on the lime-buſh, nor into the net, if ſhee ſee another inſnared before her; the Horſe will not follow another, whom he ſees to ſticke faſt in the mire: oh be not leſſe wiſe then bird or beaſt, nor more brutiſh then Horſe and Mule that hath no underſtanding. If thou ſeeſt another fall into the fire, thou wilt not willingly follow him; then follow not ſinners to the fire of hell, leſt thou be conſtrained at laſt, when it ſhall bee too late, to bewaile thy folly: to cry out with thoſe that have miſpent their time in vanity, Oh that now I might die Thus Franci • Spira cried out, after hee had renounced the profeſſion of true pietie, for the poſſeſſion of earths vanity. the death of the righteous! Oh that I might not die at all! Oh that I might feele in my conſcience the leaſt hope of pardon, which is as unpoſſible as to un • ade all the water in the vaſt Ocean with aſpoone! Oh that God would give mee the leaſt dram of grace, which is as impoſſible as for the leaſt graine of Muſtardſeed to fill the whole earth! prevent this betimes, which thou maiſt doe, by abandoning the vanity of the world; and ſo live, that whereſoever or howſoever thou dyeſt, whether abroad or at home, by day or by night, ſleeping or waking, whether a ſodaine death or a deliberate death, thou maiſt willingly commend thy ſpirit unto the hands of God as unto the hands of a faithfull Creator; and maiſt ſay with the Bride, Come Lord Ieſu, even ſo, come Lord Ieſu, come quickly: my heart is prepared Rev. 2 • to enter into thy reſt, receive me into the armes of thy mercy, entertaine mee into thy owne kingdome, that leaving the vanity of this world, I may with thy glorified Angels and bleſſed Saints, enjoy that everlaſting felicity of a better world, which never ſhall have an end.

Adew therfore vaine world, with all worldly delights whatſoever: and now ſolitary ſoule begin to take thy ſolace in better things. And to prove the world vaine, and conſequently thy ſelfe vaine, behold theſe ſhapes, read theſe Verſes, and in order open the leaves that are folded up. Herein, as in a mirrour, behold thy owne eſtate, reade, and conſider what thou readeſt, that thou maiſt know and ſee thy owne vanity. Here thou ſhalt ſee what thou wert, what thou art, and what thou ſhalt be. Duſt thou wert, duſt thou art, and unto duſt thou ſhalt returne: duſt in thy creation, duſt in thy conſtitution, duſt in thy diſſolution.

ONe of the principall meanes that our Lord hath uſed oftentimes to bridle the hearts of men, and to draw them unto the obedience of his commandements, hath beene, to ſet before their eyes the horrible plagues and puniſhments that are prepared for ſuch perſons as bee rebels and tranſgreſſours of his Law. For although the hope of the rewards that are promiſed unto the good in the life to come, may move us very much hereunto: yet are wee commonly more moved with things that be irkeſome unto us, than with ſuch as be pleaſant: even as we ſee by daily experience, that we are vexed more with an injury done unto us, than delighted with any honour; and we are more troubled with ſickneſſe, than comforted with health: and ſo by the diſcommodity of ſicknes, we come to underſtand the commodity 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 meane more than any other, as it appeareth moſt clearely by the writings of the Prophets, which are every where full of dreadfull ſayings and threatnings, wherewith our Lord pretendeth to put a terrour into the hearts of men, and ſo to bridle and ſubdue them under the obedience of his Law. And for this end he commanded the Prophet Ieremie, That hee ſhould take a white booke, and write in the ſame all the threatnings and calamities which hee had revealed unto him, even from the firſt day he began to mlke 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 would bee moved therewith unto repentance, and to change their former life, to the end, that hee might alſo change the determination of his wrath, which he had purpoſed to execute upon them. And the holy Scripture ſaith, That when the Prophet had done according as hee was commanded by almighty God, and had read all thoſe threatnings in the preſence of the people, and of the Rulers; there aroſe ſuch a feare and terrour amongſt them, that they were all aſtoniſhed, and as it were 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 means which Almighty God uſed with men in the time of the written Law, and ſo he did alſo in the time of the Law of graces in vvhich, the holy Apoſtle ſaith, That as there is revealed a juſtice, vvhereby God maketh men juſt, ſo is there alſo revealed an indignation and vvrath, vvhereby he puniſheth the unjuſt: for vvhich cauſe, S. Iohn Baptiſt (the glorious forerunner of our Saviour Chriſt) was ſent vvith this commiſſion and embaſſage, to preach unto the world, That the axe was now put to the rooot of the tree, and that every tree that brought not forth good fruit, ſhould bee cut downe and caſt into the fire. Hee ſaid moreover, That there was another come into the world, more mighty than hee, that carried in his hand a fanne to winnow and cleanſe therewith his floore, and that he would put up the corne into his garner, but the chaffe hee will burne in a fire that ſhould never bee quenched. This was the preaching and embaſſage which • he holy fore-runner of our Saviour Jeſus Chriſt brought • nto the world. And ſo great was the thunder of theſe words, • nd the terrour which entered • nto mens hearts ſo dreadfull, that there ran unto him of all • ſates and conditions of men, • ven of the very Phariſees and Publicans, yea, and Souldiers alſo (which of all others are wont to be moſt diſſolute, and to have the leaſt care of their conſciences) and each of them demanded for himſelfe particularly of that holy man, what he ſhould doe to attaine unto ſalvation, and to eſcape thoſe terrible threatnings 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 a this preſent (in the behalfe o • Almighty God) deliver unto thee, although not with ſuch fervency of ſpirit and like holineſſe of life, yet that which importeth more in this caſe, with the ſame truth and certainty; for ſo much as the faith and Goſpell which Saint Iohn Baptiſt then preached, is even the ſame now taught.

Now, if thou be deſirous to underſtand in few words, how great the puniſhment is, that Almighty God hath threatned in his holy Scriptures to the wicked, that which may moſt briefly and moſt to the purpoſe be ſpoken in this matter, is this: That •• ke as the reward of the good is •• univerſall good thing, even • o the puniſhment of the wicked is an univerſall evill, which comprehendeth in it al the evils •• at are. For the better underſtanding whereof it is to be no •• d, That all the evils of this life are particular evils, and therefore doe not torment all our ſences generally, but onely one or ſome of them. As taking an example of the diſeaſes of our body; we ſee, that one hath a diſeaſe in his eyes, another i • his eares: one is ſicke in th • heart, another in the ſtomacke ſome other in his head. And ſo divers men are diſeaſed in diver parts of the body, howbeit, • ſuch wiſe, that none of all the diſeaſes be generally through out all the members of the body, but particular to ſome on of them. And yet for all thi • we ſee what griefe onely one • theſe diſeaſes may put us unt • and how painefull a night t • ſicke man hath in any one theſe infirmities, yea, although • t be nothing elſe but a little ach • n one tooth. Now let us put the caſe, that there were ſome one man ſicke of ſuch an univerſall diſeaſe, that he had no part of his body, neither any one joynt or ſence free from his proper paine, but that at one • ime and inſtant hee ſuffered moſt exceeding ſharpe torment • n his head, in his eyes, and • ares, in his teeth, and ſtomack, • n his liver and heart: and to be • hort, in all the reſt of his members and joynts of his body, and • hat he lay after this ſort ſtret • hing himſelfe in his bed, being • ained with theſe greeſes and • orments, every member of his • ody having his particular torment and griefe: Hee (I ſay that ſhould lye thus pained and afflicted, how great torment and griefe of minde and body (thinke ye) ſhould he ſuſtaine: Oh, what thing could any man imagine more miſerable, and more worthy of compaſſion▪ Surely, if thou ſhouldeſt ſee bu • a dogge to be ſo tormented and grieved in the ſtreet, his very paines would move thy hear to take pitty upon him. Now this is that (my deare Chriſtian brother, if any compariſon may be made betweene them) which is ſuffered in that moſt curſe • and horrible place of hell, and not onely during for the ſpac • of one night, but everlaſtingly for ever and ever. For like the wicked men have offended Almighty God with all their members and ſences, and have made armour of them all to ſerve ſinne, even ſo will he ordaine, that they ſhall bee there tormented every one of them with his propertorment.

There ſhall the wanton unchaſte eyes be tormented with the terrible ſight of Divels: the cares with the confuſion of ſuch horrible cries and lamentations which ſhall there be heard: the noſe with the intollerable ſtinke of that ougly, filthy, and loathſome place: the taſte, with a moſt ravenous hunger and thirſt: the touching, and all the members of the body with extreame burning fire. The imagination ſhall be tormented by the conceiving of griefes preſent: the memory, by calling to minde the pleaſures paſt: the underſtanding, by conſidering what benefits are loſt, and what endleſſe miſeries are to come.

This multitude of puniſhments the holy Scripture ſignifieth unto us, when it ſaith, Mat. 15. Pſal. 10. That in hell there ſhall be hunger, thirſt, weeping, wailing, gnaſhing of teeth, ſwords double edged, ſpirits created for revengement, ſerpents, wormes, 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 terrous of the moſt horrible torments and paines that be in that curſed place. There ſhall bee likewiſe darkeneſſe inward and outward, both of body and ſoule, farre more obſcure than the darkeneſſe of Aegypt, which was to be felt even with hands, Exod. 20. There ſhall be 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 being true, what greater wonder can there be, than that they which beleeve and confeſſe this for truth, ſhould live with ſuch moſt ſtrange negligence and careleſneſſe as they doe? What travell and paines would not a man willingly 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 ſome kinde of comfort: but alas it is not ſo, for there the gates are faſt ſhut up from all expectation of any manner of eaſe or hope. In all kinde of paines and calamities that be in this world, there is alwaies ſome gap lying open, whereby the patient may receive ſome kinde of comfort: ſometimes reaſon, ſometimes the weather, ſometimes his friends, ſometimes the hearing that others are troubled with the very ſame diſeaſe, and ſometimes (at the leaſt) the hope of an end may cheare him: onely in theſe moſt horrible paines and miſeries that be in hell, all the waies are ſhut up in ſuch ſort, and all the havens of comfort ſo embarred, that the miſerable ſinner cannot hope for remedy 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 meanes. The damned ſoules thinke, that all men are ſhooting darts at them, and that all creatures have conſpired againſt them, and that even they themſelves are cruell againſt themſelves. This is that diſtreſſe whereof the ſinners doe lament by the Prophet, ſaying: The ſorrowes of hell have compaſſed me round about, and the ſnares of death have beſieged me: For on which ſide ſoever they looke or turne their eyes, they doe continually behold occaſions of ſorrow and griefe, and none at all of any eaſe or comfort. The wiſe Virgins (ſaith the Evangeliſt) that ſtood ready prepared at the gate of the Bridegroome, entred in, and the gate was forthwith locked faſt. O locking everlaſting, O encloſure immortall, O gate of all goodneſſe, which ſhal never any more be opened againe. As if he had ſaid more plainely, the gate of pardon, of mercy, of comfort, of grace, of interceſſion, of hope, and of all other goodneſſe, is ſhut up for ever and ever. Six daies and no more was Manna to be gathered, but the ſeventh day, which was the Sabbath day, was there none to bee found: and therefore ſhall he faſt for ever, that hath not in due time made his proviſion aforehand. The ſluggard (ſaith the Wiſe man) will not till his ground for feare of cold, and therefore ſhall he beg his bread in ſummer, and no man ſhall give him to eat. And in another place he ſaith: 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 be greater then that which that miſerable covetous rich man ſuffereth, who with a few crums of bread that fell from his table, might have purchaſed to himſelfe abundance of everlaſting felicity, and glory in the kingdome of Heaven? But becauſe he would not give ſo ſmall a thing, he came to ſuch an extreame neceſſity that he begged (yea, and ſhall for ever beg in vaine) onely one drop of water, and ſhall never obtaine it. Who is not moved with that requeſt of that unfortunate damned perſon, who cried, O father Abraham have compaſsion on me, and ſend downe Lazarus unto me, that hee may dip the tip of his finger in water, and touch my tongue, for theſe horrible flames doe torment me exceedingly. What ſmaller requeſt could there be deſired than this? He 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 be 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 alone would not be granted unto him. Whereby thou maieſt perceive, how faſt the gate of all conſolation 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 finde any manner of comfort, be it never ſo ſmall. And as he that is in the Sea choaked, and almoſt drowned under the water, not finding any ſtay whereupon to ſet his foot, ſtretcheth forth his hands oftentimes on every ſide in vaine (becauſe all that he graſpeth after, is thin and liquid water, which deceives him) even ſo ſhall it fare with the damned perſons, when they ſhall be drowned in that deepe Sea of ſo many miſeries, where they ſhall ſtrive and ſtruggle alwaies 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: for if theſe torments ſhould have their continuance limited but for a certaine time, though it were for a thouſand, yea, a hundred thouſand millions of yeares, yet even this would be 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 Almighty God, and the laſting of their miſery with the eternity of Gods glory. As long as Almighty God ſhall live, ſo long ſhall they die: and when Almighty God ſhall ceaſe to be God, then ſhall they alſo ceaſe to be as they are. O deadly life, O immortall death! I know not whether I may truely 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, and in death there is an end (which is a great comfort to the afflicted) but thou haſt neither reſt nor end. What art thou then? Marry, thou art the worſt of life, and the worſt of death; for of death thou haſt the torment, without any end, and of life thou haſt the continuance without any reſt. O bitter compoſition, O unſavory purgation of our Lords cup! of the which, all the ſinners of the earth ſhall drinke their part.

Now in this continuance in this eternity, I would wiſh that thou (my deare Chriſtian brother) wouldſt fixe the eyes of thy conſideration a little while: and that as the cleane beaſt cheweth the cud, even ſo thou wouldeſt weigh this point within thy ſelfe with great deliberation. And to the intent thou maieſt doe 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 griefe, or ſharpe diſeaſe. Marke how oft he tumbleth and toſſeth in his bed, what diſquietneſſe he hath, how long and tedious one night ſeemeth unto him, how duely he counteth all the houres of the clocke, and how long hee deemeth each houre of them to be, how he 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 be accounted ſo great a torment, what torment ſhall that be (thinke you) in that everlaſting night in hell, which hath no morning, nor ſo much as any hope of any dawning of the day: O darkneſſe moſt obſcure! O night everlaſting! O night accurſed even by the mouth of Almighty God and 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 kinde 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 doth) but in a hot burning furnace, foming out ſuch terrible raging flames. What ſhoulders ſhall be able to abide thoſe horrible heats. If it ſeeme to us as a thing intollerable to have onely ſome part of our feet ſtanding upon a pan of burning coales, for the ſpace of repeating the Lords prayer. What ſhall it be (thinke you) to ſtand body 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? doe they underſtand what theſe words import? or are they peradventure perſwaded, that theſe are onely the fables of Poets? or doe they thinke, that this appertaineth not to them, or elſe that it was onely ment 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 truth, crieth out in his Goſpell, ſaying, Heaven and earth ſhall faile, but my word ſhall not faile.

Of this miſery there followeth another as great as it, which is, that the 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 move and turn round about with the ſame heaven, and doe never ſtand ſtill at one ſtate or being, 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 ſo fervent, that doth not decline, neither griefe ſo ſharp, but that after it is much augmented, it doth 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 • n hell is alwaies greene, onely that feaver never decreaſeth, onely that extremity of heat knoweth not what is either evening or morning. In the time of Noahs flood, Almighty God • ained forty daies and forty • ights, continually without • eaſing upon the earth, and this •• fficed to drowne the whole world. But in that place of torment in hell, there ſhall raine everlaſting vengeance, and darts • f furie upon that curſed land, without ever ceaſing ſo much as • e onely minute or moment. • ow what torment can bee • eater and more to be abhor • d, than continually to ſuffer •• r one like manner, without any kinde of alteration or change? Though a meat bee never ſo delicate, yet in caſe we feed continually thereupon, it will in very ſhort time be very loathſome unto us: for no meat can be more precious and delicate than that Manna was, which almighty God ſent down unto the children of Iſrael in the Deſart, and yet becauſe they did eat continually thereof, i • made them to loath it, yea, and provoked them to vomit it up againe. The way that is all plaine (they ſay) wearieth more than any other, becauſe alwaies the variety (yea, even in puniſhment) is a kinde of comfort▪ Tell me then, if things that be pleaſant and ſavoury, when the • be alwaies after one manner, are an occaſion of loathſomeneſſe and paine: what kinde of loathſomeneſſe will that bee which ſhall be cauſed by thoſe moſt horrible paines and torments in hell, which doe continue everlaſtingly after one like ſort? What will the damned and curſed creatures think, when they ſhall there ſee themſelves ſo utterly obhorred and forſaken of Almighty God, that he will not ſo much as with the remiſſion of any one ſinne, mitigate ſomwhat their torments. And ſo great ſhall the fury and rage be which they ſhall there conceive againſt him, that they ſhall never ceaſe continually to curſe and blaſpheme his holy name. Unto all theſe paines, there is alſo added the paine of that everlaſting conſumer, to wit, the worme of conſcience, whereof the holy Scripture maketh ſo oftentimes mention, ſaying, Their worme ſhall never die, and their fire ſhall never bee quenched. This worme is a furious raging deſpight and bitter repentance, without any fruit, which the wicked ſhall alwaies have in hell, by calling to their remembrance the opportunity and time they had whiles they were in this world, to eſcape thoſe moſt grievous and horrible torments, and how they would not uſe the benefit thereof. And therefore when the miſerable ſinner ſeeth himſelfe thus to be tormented and vexed on every ſide, and doth call to minde how many dayes and yeeres he hath ſpent idely in vanities, paſtimes, and pleaſures; and how oftentimes he was advertiſed of this perill, and how little regard he tooke thereof: What ſhall he thinke? What anguiſh and ſorrow ſhall there be in his heart? Haſt thou not read in the Goſpell, that there ſhall be weeping and wailing, and gnaſhing of teeth? The famine of Aegypt endur'd onely ſeven yeares, but that in hell ſhall endure everlaſtingly. In Aegypt they found a remedy, though with great difficulty and charge; out for this, there ſhall never a • y remedy bee found. Theirs was redeemed with money and cattell, but this can never be redeemed with any manner of exchange. This puniſhment cannot bee pardoned, this paine cannot be exchanged, this ſentence cannot be revoked. Oh, if thou kneweſt and wouldeſt conſider, how every one condemned to hell, ſhall there remaine tormenting and renting himſelfe, weeping and wailing, and ſaying, O miſerable and unfortunate wretch that I am, what times and opportunities have I ſuffered to paſſe in vaine? A time there was, when with one cup of cold water I might have purchaſed to my ſelfe a crowne of glory, and when alſo with ſuch neceſſary workes of mercy in relieving the poore, I might have gained life everlaſting. Wherefore did I not looke before me? How was I blinded with things preſent? How did J let paſſe the fruitfull yeares of abundance, and did not enrich my ſelfe? If J had beene brought up amongſt Infidels and Pagans, and had beleeved that there had beene nothing elſe but only to be borne, and to die, then might I have had ſome kinde 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, and was my ſelfe one of them profeſſed, and held it for an article of my beleefe, that the houre 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 me by the continuall preaching and teaching of Gods Embaſſadours (whoſe advertiſements many following, made preparation in time, and laboured earneſtly for the proviſion of good workes:) foraſmuch I ſay as I made light of all theſe examples, and perſwaded my ſelfe very fondly, that Heaven was prepared for me, though I tooke no paines for it at all: what deſerve I that have thus led my life? O ye infernall furies, come and rent me in peeces, and devoure 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 deſerve not to reape, becauſe I have not ſowne; I am worthy to be deſtitute, becauſe I have not laid up in ſtore; I deſerve that my requeſt ſhould now be denied me, ſith when the poore made requeſt unto me, I refuſed to releeve them: I have deſerved to ſigh and lament ſo long as God ſhall be God; I have deſerved, that this worme of conſcience ſhall gnaw • ine entrails for ever and ever, by repreſenting unto mee the • ittle pleaſure that I have en • oyed, and the great felicity which I have loſt, and how far greater that was which I might have gained, by forgoing that little which J would not forgoe. This is that immortall worme that ſhall never dye, but ſhall lye there everlaſtingly gnawing at the entrailes of the wicked, which is one of the moſt terrible paines that can poſſibly be imagined.

Peradventure thou art now perſwaded (good Reader) that there can be added no more unto this, than hath beene ſaid: But ſurely the mighty arme of God wanteth not force to chaſtiſe his enemies more & more: for all theſe paines that are hitherto 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 divers ſorts, according to the quality of his ſinne. And ſo according to this proportion, the haughty and proud ſhall there be abaſed and brought low to their great confuſion. The covetous ſhall bee driven to great neceſſity. The glutton ſhall rage with continuall hunger and thirſt. The lecherous ſhall burne in the very ſame flames which they themſelves have enkindled. And thoſe that have al their life time hunted after their pleaſures and paſtimes, ſhall live there in continuall lamentation and ſorrow. But becauſe examples are of very great force to move our hearts, I will bring onely one for this purpoſe, wherby ſomewhat of this matter may the better be perceived. It is written of a certaine holy man, that he ſaw the paines (in ſpirit) of a licentious and worldly man in this ſort. Firſt, he ſaw how the divels that were preſent at the houre of his death, when hee 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 chaire of fire, expecting the comming of this preſent. Immediately after that it was preſented before him, he aroſe up out of his ſeat, and ſaid unto the damned ſoule, that he would give him the preheminence of that honourable ſeat, becauſe he had been a man of honour, and was alwaies very much affected to the ſame. Incontinently after that he was placed therein, crying and lamenting in that honourable torment, there appeared before him two other moſt ougly divels, and offered him a cup full of moſt bitter and ſtinking liquor, and made him to drinke and carouſe it up all perforce; ſaying, It is meet, ſithence thou haſt beene a lover of precious wines and bankets, that thou ſhouldeſt likewiſe prove of this our wine, whereof all we doe uſe to drinke in theſe parts.

Immediately after this there came other two, with two fiery trumpets, and ſetting them at his eares, began to blow into them flames of fire, ſaying, This melody have we reſerved for thee, underſtanding that in the world thou waſt very much delighted with minſtrelcie and wanton ſongs: and ſodainly he eſpied other divels, loaden with vipers and ſerpents, the which they threw upon the breaſt and bellies of that miſerable ſinner, ſaying unto him, that for ſomuch as he had beene greatly delighted with the wanton embracings and lecherous luſts of women, he ſhould now ſolace himſelfe with theſe refreſhings, inſtead of thoſe licentious delights and pleaſures, which he had enjoyed in the world. After this ſort (as the Prophet Eſay ſaith in the 47. Chapter) when the ſinner is puniſhed, there is given meaſure for meaſure, to the end, that in ſuch a great variety and proportion of puniſhments, the order and wiſedome of Gods juſtice, might the more manifeſtly appeare.

This viſion hath Almighty 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 we might underſtand in ſome manner the variety and multitude of the paines which bee there appointed for the damned. Whereof, I know not how ſome of the Pagans have had a certaine knowledge: for a Poet ſpeaking of this multitude of paines, affirmed, That although he had a hundred mouthes, and as many tongues, with a voice as ſtrong as Iron, yet were they not able onely to expreſſe the names of them. A Poet he was that ſpake this, but truely 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 he, that ſeeing all this ſo certainely with the eyes of his faith, will not turne over the leafe, and begin to provide for himſelfe againſt that time? Where is the judgement of men now become? Where is their wits? yea, where is at leaſt their ſelfe-love, which ſeeketh evermore for his owne profit, and is much afraid of any loſſe? May it be thought 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 (ſaith Eſay) O yee deafe and ye blinde, open your eyes that you may ſee; Who is blinde but my ſervant? And who is deafe but wee, unto whom I have ſent my meſſengers? And who is blind, but he that ſuffereth himſelfe to be ſold for a ſlaue? Thou that ſeeſt ſo many things, wilt thou not ſuffer thy ſelfe to ſee this? Thou that haſt thine eares open, wilt thou not giue 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 be thought a reaſonable man? Ariſtotle ſaith, That this is the difference betweene opinion and imagination, that an imagination alone is not ſufficient to cauſe a feare, but an opinion is a for if I doe imagine that a houſe may fall upon mee, it is no • enough to make me afraid, unleſſe J beleeve or have an opinion it will be ſo indeed: fo • 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 doe lye in wai • for them. If then the opinion and onely ſuſpition of danger is able to cauſe the greateſt courage to feare, how is it that the certainty and beleefe of ſo many and ſo great terrible miſeries which are farre more ſure than any opinion) doth not make thee to feare? If thou perceiveſt, that for theſe many yeares paſt thou haſt led 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 likelihood of thy amendment for enſuing years to come, than there was in thoſe already paſt, how happeneth it, that running head long into ſo manifeſt a danger, thou art not at all afraid? Eſpecially, conſidering the ſinfull ſtate wherein thou liveſt, and the horrible paines and torments which doe attend for thee, and the time which thou haſt loſt, and the endleſſe repentance which thou ſhall have therefore in the moſt horrible torments of hell. Aſſuredly, it goes beyond the compaſſe of all common ſence and conceit of humane reaſon, to conſider, That there ſhould be ſuch negligent, wilfull, groſſe, and careleſſe blindneſſe, able to enter and take ſuch deepe rooting in the ſoule of man.