CHAPTER I.

YOu desire of me (beloved Brother Odo) a spirituall Mirrour or looking glasse, wherin you may be­hould your selfe and exactlye see both your beauty and, de­formity: This request of yours is somewhat strange: Certaynely I thinke that you knowe me not: for if you did, whence doth it happen, that you request a spirituall [Page 6]thing of a carnall man: never­thelesse least I might seeme to neglect, or rather to contem­ne your request: behould I send what our penury hath be­ne able to affourd you Ac­cept therefore of this shorte instruction, by reading where of you may peradventure slenderly learne what you are, what you are not, or cer­taynely what you ought to be: first and foremost therefore I admonish you often and se­riously to consider the end of your comming into your mo­nastery: that being dead to the world and your selfe, you may live to God strive therefore with might and may­ne [Page 7]to accōplish that for which you came learne strongly to despise all sensible things and manfully to breake, and no­lesse whole somely to for sake your selfe. make haste to mor­tifye your passions and vitious affections that are in you.

Busy your selfe in repres­sing the instable evagations of your heart: strive to overcome wearynesse, Idlenes-and the yerksomnesse of your infirme minde: spend your dayly labour in thes things, let this be your glorious con­tention and healthfull afflic­tion: Be not remisse, but ari­se; watch looke about you, and expose your selfe wholy, [Page 8]least your be evilly partiall to your selfe: God requireth thus much of you soe doth your state.

You are called a Monke: see that you be truly what you are called: Doe the worke of a Monke labour earnestly in beating downe and casting forth vice.

Be alwayes armed against the frowardnesse of nature, against the haughtynesse of mynde against the pleasures of your flesh, and the in­ticements of sensuality: un­derstand well what I say if you permitt pride, boasting, vayne glory, selfe compla­cence to domineer over your [Page 9]reason, you are noe monke.

If you frowardly followe your owne sence and dare de­spise every humble office you are not what you are called you are no monke.

If asmuch as in you lyeth you repell not envy, hatred, maliciousnesse, indignation: if you reject not rash suspi­cions, childish complaynts wicked murmurings, you are noe monke.

If a contentious and earnest strife beinge risen betweene you and another you doe not presently treat of a re­conciliacion and what wrong soever hath beene done you doe not presently pardon [Page 10]that but seeke for revenge and retayne a voluntary private grudge, and not a true and sincere affection in your heart, or shew outwardly signes of disaffection, nay if when oc­casion and necessity requireth you defer to help him that hath injured you, you are noe monke, you are noe christian, you are abominable before God.

If having done amisse you are ashamed regularly to ac­cuse your selfe, and freely to confesse your fault: if being blamed, reproved and correc­ted, you be not patient and humble, you are noe monke.

If you neglect readily and [Page 11]faythfully to obey your ghost­ly father if you refuse to reve­rence and sincerely to love him as Gods vicar, you are noe monke.

If you willingly withdraw your selfe from the devine of­ce and other conventuall acts: if you assist not watchfully and reverently in the service of God, you are noe monke.

If neglecting internall things you take care only about the externall and with a certaine dry custome move your body, but not your heart to the wor­kes of religion, you are noe monke.

If you give not your myn­de to holy reading and o­ther [Page 12]spirituall exercises: if you have your mynde soe posses­sed whith transitory matters, that you seldome lift your self up to eternall, you are no monke.

If you desire delicate and superfluons meates, and in­temperately long after the drinking of wyne beyond the measure of a cup, especially if you be in health, and have bee­re or other convenient drinke sufficiently, you are noe mon­ke.

If foolishly you require pretious apparell, soft beds, and other solaces of the flesh, which agree not with your state and profession: if loving [Page 13]corporall rest you refuse to un­dergoe labour and affliction for Gods sake, you are noe monke.

If you cannot endure soli­tude and silence but are de­lighted with idle speeches, and inordinate laughter, you are no monke.

If you love to be with se­culars, if you desire to wander out of the monastery through the villages and cittyes, you are no monke.

If you presume to take any smale matter, to send, receave or keepe any things without the knowledge or permission of your superiour, you are noe monke.

If you esteeme not the or­dinations of holy religion though never soe litle and wil­lingly doe transgres them, you are noe monke: To conclude, if you seeke any other thing in the monastery, but God and which mighte & mayne aspire to perfection you are noe monke.

As I have said therefore, that you may truly be what you are called, and may not weare the habit of a monke in vaine, doe the worke of a mon­ke. Arme your selfe against your selfe and asmuch as in you lyeth overcome and sub­due your selfe if presently you finde not the peace you desire [Page 15]if, I say as yet you cannot be at rest, but are troubled and assayled by brutish motions and turbulent passions: yea if soe be, by Gods permission for your owne profitt throughout your whole life you shall have to doe with such ene­myes, dispaire not, be not ef­feminately dejected but hum­bling your selfe before God, stand and be stedfast in your place, and skirmish stoutly: for even the vessell of election, S. Paul endured temptations all his life time, in the which he was buffeted by the Angell of Satan. When he often be­seeched our lord to be freed from this trouble he obtey­ned [Page 16]it not, for that it was not expedient for him: But our lord answered his prayer, my grace is sufficient for thee, for power is perfected in infirmi­ty. And soe afterwards S. Paul did gratefully endure the scourge of temptation. Being com­forted by the example of this most strong and invincible champion, fainte not in temp­tation but endure manfully, remayninge fixt and immovea­ble in this holy purpose. For without doubt, this labour of yours is gratefull to God, al­though the same seeme hard and insufferable to you: goe through this spirituall martyr­dome with an invincible myn­de. [Page 17]Doubt not although you be a thousand times wounded, and as often trod under foote: if you stand to it, if you give not grounde to your enemy and like a coward cast not away your weapons, you shall receave a crowne do according to your ability and commend the rest to Gods disposing saying: As thy will is in hea­ven, so be it done: let the de­vine will and ordination be your cheife consolation: which way soever you turne your sel­fe, where soever you are, you shall finde tribulations and temptations as long as this life lasteth: which that you may pa­tiently, endure, you ought al­wayes [Page 18]wayes to be prepared. But you are happy, if by grace you ha­ve proceeded soe farre, that all greife and affliction whats­oever become truly pleasing to you for Gods sake: what thinke you brother, is my glas­se bige nough; or is not this yet sufficient for you but you yet desire to heare in more ex­presse tearmes, more abun­dantly and fully howe to com­pose your selfe, within and without, or howe according to reason you ought to order every day before God.

CHAPTER II, Howe wee ought to bestowne our time from our first rising to mattins in the moring.

AS soon as you are wake and ready to rise to mattens, devoutly arme your selfe with the signe of the cros­se, and breifly pray to God, that he will vouchsafe to blot out the staynes of sinne in you, and be pleased to helpe you: Then casting all vayne imagi­nations out of your mynde thinke upon some other thing that is spirituall and conceave asmuch puritye of heart as you [Page 22]can, rejoysing in your selfe, that you are called up to the prayse and worship up of your creatour. But if frailty of body if heavinesse of sleepe if con­turbation of spirit depresse you, be not out of heart, but be comforted and force your selfe, overcominge all impedi­ments with reason and willing­nesse for the kingdom of hea­ven suffereth violence and the violent beare it away certaine­ly according to the labour with you undergoe for the lo­ve of God, such, shalbe your recompense and reward, being come of from your bed com­mend and offer your selfe both body and soule to the most [Page 23]high make haste to the quire as to a place of refuge, and the garden of spiritual delights untill devine office begin, stu­dy to keep your mynde in pea­ce and simplicity, free from troubles and the multiplicity of uncertaine thoughts collec­ting a godly and sweete affec­tion towards your God by sincere meditation or prayer. In the perfourmance of the de­vine office have a care to pro­nounce and heare the holy wordes reverently, perfectly, thankefully and attentively that you may taste, that your lord is sweete, and may feele that the word of God hath in­comprehēsible sweetnesse and [Page 24]power for whatsoever the ho­ly Ghost hath dictated is in­deed the life procureing foo­de, and the delightfull solace of a chast sober, and humble soule remember therfore, to be there faythfully attentive but avoide too vehement co­gitations and motions of myn­de, especially, if your head be weake, least being hurt or wea­ryed, confounded and streigh­tened internally, you shutt the sanctuary of God against your selfe: reject likewise too troublesome care, which com­monly bringeth with it pusilla­nimity and restlesnesse, and persever with a gentle, quiet, and watchfull spirit in the prai­ses, [Page 25]of God without singulari­ty. But if you cannot keepe your heart from evagations, be not dejected in mynde: but patiently endevour, patiently doe what lyeth in your power, committing the rest to the di­vine will. Persever in your godly affection towards God and even your very defects, which you are noe way able to exclude, will in a manner, be­get you consolation. For as the earth which is of a conve­nient nature, doth by the ca­sting of dunge, ostentimes more fruitfully send forth her seeds: soe a mynde of good will out of the defects which by constraint it susteyneth [Page 26]shall in due time receave the moste sweet fruit of divine vi­sitation, if it endure them with patience. And what profitt do you reape by being impa­tient: doe you not heape cal­lamity upon calamity; doe you not shew your wante of true humility and bewray in your selfe a pernitions pro­priety: As long as you do re­verently assist, and are ready with a prompt desire of will to attende, you have satified God: neyther will he impute the inordinatenesse of this in­stability to you, if soe be by your negligence you give not consent unto it, and before the time of prayer you sett a gar­de [Page 27]over your sences, if you can­not offer a perfect dutifulnesse, offer at least a goodwill: of­fer a right intent in the spirit of humility: and soe the devill shall not finde anie occa­sion to cavill against you: Al­though you have nothing el­se to offer but a readinesse, in body and spirit to serve our lord in holy feare be sure of it, that you shall not loose your reward. But woe to your soule, if you be negli­gent and remisse, and care not to give attendance: for it is writte. Cursed is the man, that doth the worke of God negligently. Be diligent, that you may perfourme what you [Page 28]are able, if you be not able to perfourme what you desi­re; upon this security be not troubled, when impediments happen and you be not able to perfourme asmuch as you would, when I say distra­ction of your sences, deje­ction of mynde, drynesse of heart greife of head, or any other misery and temptation afflicted you, beware you say not: I am left, our lord hath cast me away, my duty pleaseth him not: these are words be­fitting the children of distrust endure therefore with a pa­tient and joyfull mynde all things for his sake, that hath called and chosen you firmely [Page 29]beleeving that he is neare to those that are of a contrite heart. For if you humbly with­out murmering carry this bur­den layde on you, not by mortall tongue, to be uttered, what a deale of glory you hea­pe up for your selfe in the life to come. You may truly say unto God: As a beast am I be­come with thee: Beleeve me Brother, if being repleat with interne all sweetnesse and lifted up abone your selfe, you fly up to the third heaven and there converse with angells, you shall not doe soe great a deed as if for Gods sake you shall affectually endure greife and banishment of heart and [Page 30]be conformeable to our sa­viour: when, in extreame, sor­rowe, auginsh feare, and ad­versity crying unto his fa­ther: lett thy will be do­ne: who also being thrust through his hands and feete hanging on the crosse, had not wheron to leane his head: who also most lovingly endu­red for thee all the griefes and disgraces of his most bitter pas­sion. Therefore in holy lon­ganimity, conteine your selfe, and expect in silence untill it shall please the most high to dispose otherwise: And cer­tainly in that day it shall not be demanded of you hove much intetnall sweetnesse you [Page 31]have heere felt: But howe faith full you have bin in the love and service of God.

CHAPTER III. God hath too sorts of servants and the description of both.

AMonge those that are called the servants of God, many serve him unfayth­fully, few faithfully indeed unfaithfull servants as long as they have sensible devotion, and present grace of teares, doe serve God with alacrity, they pray willingly, joyfully goe about good workes, and seeme to live in deepe pea­ce of heart: But assone as God hath thought it good to with drawe that devotion, you shall [Page 34]see them troubled, chafe, be­come malicious and impatient and at last neyther willing to be att theyr prayers, nor amy other divine exercises. And because they feele not inter­nall consolations as they desi­re, they perniciously betake themselves to those that are externall, and contrary to the spirit: where by it is manifest, that they are not purely Gods gift, and abuse them to their owne pleasure: for if they did love God purely and did not vitiosty rest in his gifts, they would remaine peaceable in God, those gifts being taken away: and would not even then turneout of the way to unlaw­full [Page 35]consolations. Therefore they are unfaithfull, because in adversity they keepe not touch with God. They belee­ve for a whyle and shrinck backe in the time of triall: They would have all things goe on their side, and indure nothing that goeth against them: if God grant those things that they would have, they serve him, if he deny them, they leave him: nay in prosperity they serve not God, but them­selves. And in all things would rather have their owne will done, then Gods they place fanctity, in internall sweet­nesse and consolation rather then in the perfect mortifica­tion [Page 36]of vices: being ignorant that by the withdrawing of devotion it more certainly ap­peareth. If one truly love God then by the infusion of it. For that sensible devotion is com­monly more truly a naturall then spirituall devotion. But whatsoever it be, unlesse a man make use of it wisely, it is wont oftentimes to bring him that is soe affected, to a hid­den kind of pride, a wicked complacence, and a vaine se­curity as wee dayly see in the­se unfaithfull servants: for as­soone as they are tickled with this inward sweetnesse, they will for sooth begin to iudge and despise others: they thin­ke [Page 37]themselves great saints, and the secretaries of God. They expect and wonderfully long after divine revelations: and wish that some miracles were don by them, or of them: by which others might take notice of the holinesse, which they thinke, they have, but have not. Thus doe they use to vanishe away in their owne imaginations, who gape more after sensible grace, then the giver of grace: But faithfull servants behave themselves farre otherwise for they seeke not themselves, but God: ney­ther their owne cōsolation, but cheifly the will and honour of God: they alwayes fly proprie­ty, [Page 38]whether God be pleased to infuse, or not to infuse the influence of internall sweetnesse, they are all one and per­sisting in equality of mynde, cease not to love and praise God it is not internall dark­nesse, nor difficulty of senses, nor coldnesse of affections nor drinesse of heart, nor dejection of mynde, nor drowsinesse of spirit, nor adversity of temptation: to conclude it is neither misery of adversity, nor suc­cesse of prosperity, that is able to heave them out of their place: for although peradven­ture they feele in the inferiour powers of the soule the oppression of inordinate sorrowe [Page 39]proceeding from adversity, or the violence of sensuall de­light arising out of prosperity, they are not for all that deje­cted: because they continue quiet in the reason or higthet parte of the soule, and doe con­forme their will to the divine will or permission: and grieve that they feele the least con­tradiction of unseemely mo­tions. Being founded therefo­re as a firme rocke they per­siste stedfast in the love of God, as they whose cheife comfort is in the wille of God: They are alwayes devour: because with all their power they avoi­de and abhorre whatsoever is displeasing to God, and may [Page 40]never soe little contaminate the purity of their heart, and committinge themselves in all chances to God, doe still pos­sesse a pure free, and quiet mynde. This is the truest de­votion and most acceptable to God. The other sensible devo­tion, which is more familiare to novices, or those that are lately converted is not durea­ble and sure yet not with stan­ding it is very profitable to us, if wee wisely make use of it: The faithfull servants (for soe I still call them, whom christ calleth not servāts, but frineds) faithfull servants I say, doe seeke after that effectuall, and most pleasant sweetnesse of [Page 41]grace also: they seeke after the joy of our lords salvation: they seeke after his most love­ly countenance, and most sweete embraces: but they doe this with a spirituall and bash­full, not with a sensuall gree­dinesse, or childish lightnes, or a troubled impatience. They desire the gift of God, not that they may be sensually de­lighted in them: but that being made more fervent by them, and more pure from all inordinatenesse, they may plea­se their heavenly bride groo­me. They love the gift of God, and willingly thanke him for them: but yet they keepe themselves as it were [Page 42]quiet and free from them, as long as they rest not in them. By grace they goe forword to the giver of grace, and suprea­me good, in whom only it is lawfull for them to rest: they are truly happy because by ho­we much the lesse they stick to those gifts they receave soe many the more. And although they benever soe much indo­wed with blessings from God, they lift not up their mynde, they dispise not others but themselves, I say, they dispise and acknouwledge themselves unworthy of all spirituall gra­ce, they alwayes keepe in min­de that whatsoever they have it is of Gods meere mercy: [Page 43]and that of them more is exac­ted, to whome more is given or committed. And so contin­ving in holy feare, and by the­se gists proceeding in humili­ty, they confesse themselves to be belowe the lowest. They rejoice and glory with in them selves, if being opprest with uniust infamy, reproches, in­juries and uttermost scorne, they have imitated christ: not if they could be elevated abo­ve themselves by excesse of mynde, or could see strange visions or doe most apparant miracles: They presently ma­king the signe of crosse repell the deceitfull suggestions, by which the devill indevoureth [Page 44]to allure them to vaine glory, and selfe complacence, noe way consenting to the subtili­ties of the wicked serpent: they doe not confidently pla­ce the hope of their salvation either in the number, or in the merit of good workes which they doo: But put their trust in the freedome of the sonnes of God, which they have ob­teyned by the blood of christ loe then, Brother, knowing the difference of the faithfull and unfaithfull servants, inde­vour to be of those, which may be you are not of, and strive to leave them, of whome per­adventure you are one. If you are of those you would not [Page 45]be of, and are not of those of whome you would be, greive and humble your selfe for God giveth grace to the humble. And certainly if you humble your selfe in the sight of our lord, greiving that you are yet of the number of the un­faithfull, you have already in a manner passed into the lot of the faithfull; labour, persever, feare not. You shall not be re­prooved with the unfaithfull, but shalbe receaved with the faithfull. There are others also that are bound to the divine service, and yet connot be cal­ [...]ed either unfaithfull or faith­full servants of God: these a man may lawfully call the idle [Page 46]slaves of the devill. I meane those unhappy wretches that esteeming either not art all, or very little of devotion, or the gra­ce of God, and altogether ne­glecting the interiour parts, make a shew, as though, they honoured God with their lips, but their heart is farre from him, these being plunged over head and eares in a sea of evill, doe little thinke of their owne salvation. These are all one to day as they were yesterday they come from the quire as they went thither viz unclea­ne, tepid apt to noe goodnes­se, wandring, dissolute, wit­hout feare; without reveren­ce By the divine praises, which [Page 47]with a polluted month they utter, they more exasperate, then please God. I would to God these, had kept them in the world: for what doe they in monasteries why tread they on holy ground, why devoure they the almes of the just: why pollute they the Angelicall schooles of spirituall exercises with carnall delights. If they intended to live uncleanly, they should have remayned in a place for their purpose, and not have entred into places of purity: living negligently in monasteries they double the pun­nishments of hell, which their ill living in the world had de­served. But it is out of our [Page 48]way to speake more of these things: wherefore I returne whence I strayed.

CHAPTER IV. That for everye howr of the day wee ought to cleave to some setled exercise least our mynde growe sluggish.

SOe that you may be seted in your private exercises prescribe your selfe some thing what to doe every howr, and to bee busied in: But soe, that if at any time eyther upon obedience, or any other reasona­ble cause or chance happening you abbreviate any exercise, or wholy overslip it, you be not inordinately vexed for you ought cheifly to endeavour to [Page 52]attayne to this, that in liberty and purity of heart (rejecting all propriety) you may alwayes persever peaceable, and wit­hout trouble before God. For this is acceptable to our lord a­bove all other exercises bee they never soe laborious and hard, whatsoever therefore shall hinder this liberty in you although it be spirituall and seeme very profitable occa­sion soe requiring, leave it as much as obedience doth per­mitt. Endeavour I say, to re­pell, all restlesnesse of heart, which choaketh true peace, and perfect trust in God with all spirituall proceedings let not vitious idlenesse at any ti­me [Page 53]take place, for it distroieth soules. Avoide alsoe idle bu­sinesses I meane those that are unprofitable, Neither mervay­le at this kind of speech: let not vitious idlenesse at anyti­me take place, for there is al­soe a commendable idlenesse, which is, when the soule fixed on God, and exempted from the noise and imagination of all sensible things, doth rest as it were idle in internall silence, and in the most blessed embra­cements of her beloved to which if the hand of our lord bring you, you shall profitably and happily be idle otherwi­se, alwayes either read, or me­ditate or praye or take in hand [Page 54]something els, that shall be se­rious and necessary and truly if you will settle your selfe with all diligence to the study of scripture you will be wonder fully comforted and every spi­rituall thing will begin to grow sweete unto you: and soe it will come to passe that being accustomed to holy delights, you will easily contemne those that are carnall: and your myn­de will be wonderfully strenghned in your good purpose. To the end therfore that you may merit soe great a fruit willingly and wisely give your selfe to reading; that is to say in rea­ding seeke spirituall consola­tion and profitt and the love of [Page 55]God, not curiosity, not super­fluous understāding and know­ledge, not neatenesse and ele­gance of words: for the king­dome of God is not in elegan­ce of speech, but in holinesse of lise: which elegance of speech neverthelesse as it is not overcarefully to be sought after, if it be wanting: soe is it not scornfully to be rejected by him that hath it, for it is alsoe the gifte of God. Receave all things with thankes giving and all things shall helpe forward for your salvation. How beit be not troubled if many of tho­se good things which you hea­re or read slip out of your me­mory. For as a vessell which of­ten [Page 56]receaveth water remay­neth cleane although the wa­ter powred in be presently po­wred out agayne: so likewise if spirituall doctrine often run thorough a well willing myn­de, although it abide not the­re, neverthelesse it maketh and keepeth the mynde clea­ne and pleasing to God. Your cheife profitt consisteth not in committing the word of doctrine to memory, but ra­ther that the effects of the do­ctrine and words remaine in you, that is by this doctrine to get an internall purity, and a ready mynde to fulfill the commandements of God. Learne to apply those things to [Page 57]your selfe that are spoken a­gainst vice for it is not safe to wrest them against others with a fixed indgement of mynde: least while you obstinately judge another, you defile or trou­ble your owne conscience. And soe in all things which seeme any wayes obseene avoide asmuch as in you lyeth even the very least allurement of any stippery motion if by way of temptation they do impu­gne, molest and trouble you importunately, contradict them with reason, deny to gi­ve consent, and making the signe of the crosse, direct your whole intention to God: For [Page 58]so without hurt you may esca­pe this danger. Furthermore doe not imitate those that ob­serve noe order in reading, but doe reade what commeth first to hande, and where they first open the booke: they li­ke nothing which is not new and strange for they loath all things that are usvall and stale, though never soe profitable. farr be such instability from you: for it doth not recollect but distract the spirit: and he is dangerously sicke that is taynted with this disease: wise­ly binde your mynde to a cer­tainty of reading and accustom your selfe to goe thorougth [Page 59]with it, although sometimes it administer no matter of plea­sure. Read, I say not confused­ly or disorderly but methodi­cally. Repeate those things, againe and againe, that are good. Neverthelesse in time of tribulation and spirituall po­verty you may intermitt what your have begun, and accor­ding to your necessity turne and apply your selfe to other godly exercises, which may be more consolatory. For it is the opinion of the fathers, that it is good to goe to prayer, or meditation from reading, and agayne to have recourse to reading from prayer: that [Page 60]prayer with a commendable vicissitude succeeding reading, and reading succeeding prayer, loathsomnesse may be taken away: and the mynde being as it were fresh and lusty may alwayes be the more able for the proposed worke, and that the greater fruit may be rea­ped of both. And what hinde­rance is there why a man should not make short prayers even in reading, and aspire to God by holy desires. There are many things that may serve either for reading, or prayer or meditation: such are all the scriptures in which there is conference with God: [Page 61]Alwayes preferr common prayers before private: and indge them to be more profi­table for you: although some­times they may seeme more barren and unsavory In like manner esteeme of all com­mon and regular actions for above all things obedience ought to be in the first place you: if peradventure you de­mande in what prayers and meditations you should in pri­vate cheifly exercise your sel­fe: if you will credit me, after you have accused your selfe, and craved perdon for you sin­nes, you shall cheifly beseech God to mortifie your evill pas­sions [Page 62]and vitious affections, and quite and cleane to strip you of all inordinatenesse: and that he will be pleased to grant you grace joyfully and pa­tiently to endure all tribula­tion and temptation. Aske of him profound humility and most fervent charity. Beseech him to vouchsafe alwayes to direct, teach, illuminate, and protect you in all things. The­se things in my judgement are most necessary for you. And indeed they are great and high, neither can they other­wise be obteyned, then by prayer persever therefore con­tinually knocking: and wit­hout [Page 63]doubt our lord will at length open unto you: and will give you asmuch bread as your necessity shall require. But soe you neglect not wil­lingly to give thankes for what you have receaved. For no­thing displeasesh God more, then forgetfulnesse and ingra­titude for received benefitts. And that you may the more willingly and sooner incline Gods benignity unto you, pray, attentively for the state of the whole church commen­ding unto God all the faithfull both alive and dead and every reasonable creature. Will you further hearein what with pro, [Page 64]fitt you may exercise your sel­fe. I will tell you: singing of psalmes is profitable, the god­ly meditating in other parts of scripture is profitable, the consideration of creatures compared to their creatour is profitable.

CHAPTER V. Howe powerfull and efficacious the remembrance of Christs life and passion is.

ALl prayers, singing of hymnes thankesgiving and holy meditations are pro­fitable: But by consent of all, the remembrance of christs hu­manity, and especially, of his most sacred passion is most profitable and only necessary, and whorthily. For it is the present extermination of pas­sions and inordinate affections, a fitt refuge in temptation, and surest safegard in dangers a [Page 68]sweete refreshing in distresse, a freindly rest from labour, a gentle repressing of distrac­tions, the true dore of sancti­ty, the only entry to contem­plation the sweet consolation of the soule, the indeficient flame of devine love, the sa­wce of all adversities, the fountaine of all vertues, from whence they flowe to us, to conclude the absolute example of all perfection, the haven, hope, trust, merit, and salva­tion of all christians, I knew a monke, whose custome was to propose to himselfe every day some parte of our lords passion, as for example: one day he would sett before his [Page 69]eyes Christs being in the gar­den. And withersoever he went that day, whersoever he chanced to be, if not troubled with any other serious and ne­cessary cogitation, whatsoe­ver he did outwardly, he tooke a speciall care to direct his internall eye to our lord suffe­ring diverse distresses in the garden, and thus would he talke with his soule: and my soule, behould thy God. Be­hould daughter, attend, see and consider, most deare: be­hould thy God, behould thy Creatour, behould thy father, behould thy redeemer and sa­viour: behould thy refuge, be­hould thy defender and prote­ctour, [Page 70]behould thy hope, trust, strength, and health. Behould thy sanctification, purity, and perfection: behould thy helpe, merit and reward: behould thy tranquillity, consolation, and sweetnes: behould thy joy, thy delights and thy life: be­hould thy light, and thy cro­wne and thy glory: behould thy love, and thy desire: be­hould thy treasure and all thy good: behould thy beginning and thy end: whether art thou scattered thou wandring daughter. Howe long wilt thou lea­ve the light and love darknes­se. Howe long wilt thou for sake peace, and involue, thy selfe in troubles: Retourne, re­tourne [Page 71]thou Sunamite retour­ne, daugthter, retourne and recollect thy selfe most deare: leave many things and embra­ce one: for one thing is neces­sary for thee. Abide with thy lorde: place thy selfe by thy God: goe not from thy master: sitt in his shadow whome thou lovest, that his fruite may be sweet to thy throate. It is good for thee to be here daughter. For hither the enemy cannot make his approach, heare are noe snares, no dangers, noe darknesse. All things are hea­re safe, all things calme. Re­side heere willingly most dea­re. For heere thou shalt be sa­fe and free: thou shalt be [Page 72]merry, and joyfull. Heere are roses, lillyes and violets: hee­re flowers of all vertues doe smell most pleasantly. Heere thou shalt see a brightnesse sweetly inligtning all things with his rayes. Heere thou shalt finde true consolation: heere thou shalt finde peace and rest: to conclude heere thou shalt finde all good. With such short sentences he would both sharply and sweetly spur forward his soule, and call her home, when shee was wan­dring abroad, and force her to apply her selfe to the cheifest good. Of these little sentences he would take sometimes mo­re, sometimes fewer, sometimes [Page 73]only one, sometimes two, so­metimes three according to the fervour of his devotion and the pleasure of the holy Ghost: and he would often times ite­rate and repeat them. He would also force his soule to the remembrance of those things which our saviour did and suffered for her in the gar­den: in the meane time one while exciting her to the con­sideration of our saviours un­searchable humility, mildnesse, patience, most fervent and in­comprehensible charity ano­ther while to take compassion on our lord of infinite majesty soe humbled and afflicted, and then againe to thanke him for [Page 74]soe great benefitts and piety, an other while to repay love, with love and anon to aske perdon for her sinnes, and then to beg this or that grace: he would often convert his speech to these or the like affectionate and fervent aspirations: and my soule when wilt thou be ready to followe the humility of thy lord when wilt thou imi­tate his mildenesse when shall the example of his patience shyne in thee: when wilt thou be better: when wilt thou be free from passions and vitious affections: when shall evill be quite distroied in thee: when shall all inordinatenesse bee blotted out in thee: when wilt [Page 75]thou peaceably and gently en­dure all tribulation and temp­tation: when wilt thou perfec­tly love thy God: when wilt thou intimately embrace him: when wilt thou be wholy swa­lowed up in his love: when wilt thou be pure simple and resiened before him: howe long will it be ere thou be hin­dered no more from his most chast embracings: and that thou wert immaculate and that thou didst fervently love thy God. And that thou didst inseparably cleave unto thy chifest good: And then direc­ting the eye of his heart to heaven, or to the depth of e­ternall light he would frame [Page 76]these aspirations: and my sou­le, where is thy God: where is thy love where is thy treasure: where is thy desire: where is thy totall good when shalt thou see him: when shalt thou most happily enjoy him when shalt thou freely prayse him with all the citticens of hea­ven: these and the like aspira­tions would he secretly spea­ke either mentally or with his lips taking sometimes more so­metimes fewer according to the internall motion of the ho­ly Ghost: he would also often accuse his soule, that it was too slowe, stuggish tepid, in­gratfull, hard, insensible, un­stable, miserable and unhap­py. [Page 77]Againe he would comfort it being dejected with pusilla­nimity or feare, and would en­courage it with these or the li­ke words: dispaire not, my soule: take comfort daughter, and be confident most deare. If thou hast sinned, and art woun­ded, behould thy God: be­hould thy phisitian is ready to cure thee. He is most cour­teous and most mercyfull and therefore willing: he is omni­potent and therefore can par­don thy sinnes in a moment. Peradventure thou art afraid, because he is thy indge: but ta­ke heart: for he that is thy indge, is also thine advocate. He is thy advocate to defend [Page 78]and excuse thee doing peanan­ce, he is therefore also thy indge to save, not to condem­ne thee being humbled. His mercy is infinitly greater then thy iniquity either is or can be: which words I say not, that persevering in evill thou should de make thy selfe unworthy of his mercy: but that being a­verted from evill thou shoul­dest not dispaire of indulgence and forgivenesse thy God is most gentle, most sweete, he is wholy amiable, wholy de­sireable, and wonderfully lo­veth all things which he hath created: when thou thinkest of him, or conceivest him in thy memory far be all imagi­nation [Page 79]of terrour, austerity and bitternes from thee. When we say he is terrible, it is not in respect of himself, but of those, that abuse his patience and de­ferr to doe peanance. Whose most bitter and poysonons sin­nes as contrairy to his most sweet and pure goodnes he re­pelleth and punnisheth; let not thime imperfections dis­courage thee too much: for thy God doth not dispise thee because thou art imperfect and infirme, but loveth thee ex­ceedingly because you desirest and labourest to be more per­fect: he will also helpe thee if thou persist in thy good in­tention: and will make thee [Page 80]perfecter, yea peradventure, (which thou little hopest for) wholy fayer, and every way pleasing to him. Thus and in­numerable other wayes would he frindly talke with his soule, and invite her by chast spee­ches to the chast love of her beloved: he would also turne his speech to our lord and aspi­ring to him by holy love would say: and good JESU, pious Pas­tor, sweet master, king of eter­nall glory, when shall I bee im­maculate, and truly humble be­fore thee: when shall I truly dispise all sensible things for thee: and when shall I perfect­ly forsake my selfe: when shall I bestript of all propriety. For [Page 81]vulesse there were propriety in me there would not bee selfe-will in me: passions and inor­dinate affections would have no place in me. I should not seeke my selfe in any thing propriety only maketh thee impediment and medium bet­weene thee and me: propriety only doth hinder thee from me: when therefore shall I cast of all propriety: when shall I freely resigne my selfe to thy divine pleasure: when shall I serve thee with a cleane, quiet, simple, and calme mynde: when shall I perfectly love thee in the armes of my sou­le: when shall I love thee with most fervent desire: when shall [Page 82]all my tepidity and imperfec­tion be swallowed up by the immensity of thy love: and my desire, my treasure, ô my to­tall good, ô my beginning and end: O my God, ô sweetnes­se of my soule, ô my consola­tion, my life, my love. O that my soule might enjoy thy most sweet embracings: O that were indisolubly bound with thy love: would it were perfectly uni­ted to thee. For what is to me in heaven. And besids thee what would I upon earth. God of my heart and God my portion for ever. When shall the world be silent to me, when shall the impediments, troubles, and vicissitudes of this life cease to [Page 83]me: when shall my pilgrimage be ended: when shall my se­journing be consummate when shall the miserable captivity of this bannishment be disol­ved: when shall the shadowe of mortality decrease and the day, of eternity draw neare: when shall I lay downe the burden of this body and see thee: when shall I praise thee with thy saints without impe­diment happily, and eternal­ly: O my God, my love, my totall good. He was often wont to use such aspirations kno­wing that by the exercise of them humane spirit is mo­re effectually united to the di­vine spirit and that there by [Page 84]man attayneth the sooner to the perfect mortification of himselfe. He had then ready e­very where: But if at any time he had more sufficient leasure, he would then (sitting as Mary Magdalen did) rejoyce to lin­ger more freely and that more to the honour of God, then to the inordinate pleasing of himselfe: he would not in the meane time omitt with a certaine internall effusion of heart, by a sincere and sweete affection to adore, blesse, gi­ve thankes, and pray: More­over tourning his speech to the blessed virgin the mother of God, as to a most mercifull lady, and most liberall stewar­desse [Page 85]of heavenly treasures, he would ingeminat his pions complaints before her and with an holy importunity ex­tort a benediction. Another day he would sert before him­self howe our saviour betrayed by Judas was taken and con­cerning this point he would iterate his foresaid exercises: and so would goe through with the passion in order, and having ended would begin a­gayne. And about that part of the passion, which did re­present Christ hanging on the crosse he did not employ him­selfe in order and in his proper day, but every day at least breifly, if so be he thought it [Page 86]convenient, exciting his soule to the earnest contemplation of these things. On every so­lemnity of our saviour or the blessed virgin he would (if he thought it good) propose to the eyes of his mynde the re­presentation of that feast in steed of parte of our lords pas­sion which otherwise was that day to be frequented: And would performe his internall exercises or frindly discourses with his soule and about the worke, cause, mistery and joy of that festivity. He was also much delighted with singing the psalmes. And I knowe, that by the continued custo­me of this holy exercise he rea­ped [Page] [Page]

[Page 89]great consolation and sin­guler profitt of his labours.

I vvill sett downe an ex­ample imitate of it, if you plea­se. For by this meanes you shall be accustomed to appre­hend the presence of God: by this meanes you shall begin to have your sences sober, watch­full, exercised, and calme: by this meanes you shall prepare your selfe away to the highest contemplation and perfection: thus wheresoever you are you shall spend your time profita­bly: vayne and instable cogitations being caste forth out of the corners of your heart and such as are serious being entertay­ned in their place: you may [Page 90]frame your selfe meditations and aspirations in other ter­mes, then wee have, if you perceave the looking in your booke to hinder your mynde, where by you are the lesse able to reach to God, and to be uni­ted to him, lay a side your booke: againe if you perceave it doth further your exercise, make use of it: for I would that your devotion should be free to you, and that you should follow the grace of the holy Ghost without confusion or anxiety, moreover, by aspira­tions (as you may perceave by the above written coppyes) we understand certaine short jaculatory prayers, or burning [Page] [Page]

[Page 93]desires, and lively and amo­rous affections to God. He that hath not as yet underta­ken the beginning of internall conversation and his owne mortification or hath at least but newly begun, ought not peradventure so precisely to follow this rule.

But it shall be expedient for him to exercise himselfe for a while according to this manner which I shall opscribe: lett him therefore every day propose to himselfe some part of our saviours passion and lett him study to have recourse in mynde to the same whether he stand, goe, sitt, or rest: unlesse he have some other [Page 94]profitable or necessary thing in his heart to treat of. And lett him often discourse with his soule in the presence of Christ suffering, either thus, or after the like manner: O my soule behould thy God, behould ingratefull, attend thou wretch, consider thou poore soule: behould thy God, behould thy Creatour and Re­deemer: behould howe the king of eternall glory humbled himselfe for thee: behould ho­we the highest majesty debased himselfe for thee: see what sorrowes, bitternesse and in­dignityes thy saviour suffereth for thee: Consider with what charity he loved thee, who [Page 95]undertooke soe great calami­ty and affliction for thee. Arise my soule, arise out of the dust, slip thy head out of the coller thou captive daughter of Sion. Arise forsake the pudle of thy vices and leave the vucleanes­se of thy negligent life. Howe long wilt thou take pleasures in perills. Howe long wilt thou esteeme anxiety and tor­ments to be rest: howe long wilt thou securely sleepe in distruction. Howe long wilt thou willingly, leave the right way and wander abroad fart and neere by unknowen pla­ces. Returne unto our lord thy God: for he expecteth thee: make hast, be not slacke: for [Page 96]he is ready to receave thee: he will meet thee with open armes: only deferr not thou to returne: Come to JESUS, and he will heate and purifi thee: Joyne thy selfe to JESUS, and he will illuminate thee. Adhe­re to JESUS, and he will bles­se and save thee: sometimes lett him more expresly up­braid his soule of ingratitude and perversenesse, saying: a­las my soule, howe ingrate­full hast thou bin to thy God: he hath bestowed innumera­ble and most admirable bene­fitts on thee, and thou still re­paye evill for good: he hath created thee according to his owne image and likenesse: he [Page 97]hath endowed thee with im­mortality: he hath deputed heaven, and earth and all things contayned in them to thy commodity: he hath enriched thee with many gists and gra­ces: he hath brought thee to the light of the Catholique faith: he hath with drawen thee from the dangerous wa­ves of the world, and conveyed thee to the haven and tranquil­lity of a monasticall life, where thou (as in a most sweete pa­radice of spirituall pleasures) mightest have infinite occa­sion of holy joy and good wor­kes: he hath patiently borne with thee, greviously sinning, and hath preserved thee from [Page 98]the jawes of hell. The king hath bin incarnate for thee: thy Creator for thy sake hath become thy Brother: Neyther did he thinke it sufficient to be borne for thee: wherefore he would also suffer for thy sake, he endured sorrowe and dis­tresses, for thy sake, he was betrayed and taken for thy sa­ke, he was spit on and buffe­ted: for thy sake: he was scourged, and wounded with a crowne of thornes: for thy sake he was smytten with a reed, and loaden with the bur­then of the crosse: for thy sa­ke he was nayled to the crosse and drunke vineger: for thy sake he wept and shed his most [Page] [Page]

[Page 101]holy bloud: for thy sake he died and was buried. He hath adopted thee to be heire of the kingdome of heaven: he hath promised those things unto thee, which neyther eye hath seene, nor heart of man can comprehend: But thou hast left and contemned him who hath bin soe many wayes beneficiall to thee thou hast cast away the holy feare of him that loved thee: thou hast shaken of his sweet ioke, that hath elected thee: thou art become as one of the daugh­ters of Beliall: as an impudent harlot, thou hast iniquityes, worshipped without modesty: Thou hast compacted with [Page 102]death: Thou hast given thy hand to the devill: thou hast bin most prompt to all wicked­nesse: thou hast heaped evill upon evill, and hast rejoyced to adde worse to the worst. By thy wickednesse thou hast a­gaine crucified JESUS-CHRIST, who had chosen thee for his spouse: thou hast renewed his wounds by thy crimes. Who will give thee grones and sighs: who will give thee a spring of teares, that thou mayest night and day bewayle thine ingrati­tude: O unhappy wretch, what wilt thou doe ò that thou had­dest kept thy selfe in the state of innocencie: and that thou haddest remayned immacula­te: [Page 103]O that thou haddest not miserably defiled thy selfe with dishonesty: O that thou haddest not gone, astray from thy God: thou hast lost thine innocency thou art defiled, thou art become dishonest, thou hast gone astray from thy God: Alas poore wretch and what wilt thou doe: to whome wilt thou fly: from whome wilt thou expect helpe: from whome, but from him, who­me thou hast offended: he is moste pitifull, most courteous most mercifull. Humble thy selfe, powre out thy selfe li­ke water in his sight, and he will take pitty on thee: some­times lett him turne his lamen­tations [Page 104]to our lord with these or the like words: Alas my lord JESU, what have I done: ho­we have I left thee: howe have I dispised thee: howe am I be­come forgetfull of thy name: howe have I cast aside thy na­me: howe have I cast aside thy feare: howe have I trod thy la­we under my feete: howe have I trasgressed thy precepts. O me, my God, ô me, my Crea­tor: O me, my Saviour: O me, my life and my totall good, woe be to me wretched creature, woe be to me, woe be to me, because I have sinned, woe be to me because I have made my selfe like to a bruite beast, woe be to me because I am become [Page 105]more silly then a sheepe. O good JESU, ô loving sheep­herd, ô sweet master helpe me. Sett me on my feete, stretch forth thy hand to me being in danger. Cleanse me from my filth, cure my wounde con­firme my weaknesse, save me from distruction. I confesse my selfe unworthy to tread on the earth, I am unworthy to be­hould the light, I am unwor­thy of thy aide and grace. For great is myne ingratitude, great, yea too great is the e­normity of sinnes: never the lesse thy! mercy is infinitly greater: Therefore, ô God, thou lover of mankinde, and my only hope, have mercy on [Page 106]me according to thy great mercy: and according to the multitude of thy commisera­tions take away myne iniqui­ty. Some times as if he were risen out of adreame, falling on his knees in the sight of our lord, lett him affectionately say: lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me cleane. Or this: O God be propitious to me a sinner: or that have mercy on me JESUS, sonne of David: or that other: ô lord helpe me, Soe likewise lett him powre forth his heart before the Vir­gin Mary the mother of our lord, and all the Saints of God, humbly suing for their inter­cession.

CHAPTER VI. We must dayly call to munde the manifould sinnes which we have committed.

ANd very day, or certayn­ly very often, when oc­casion shall serve lett him re­collect him selfe, and with a profound humility firmely porposing amendment, lett him call to mynde, and particular­ly confesse before our lord the sinnes of his fore passed life but especially those by which he hath most greviously offen­ded the divine goodnesse. But it will be indiscretion to dwell [Page 108]long upon those that belong to the frailty of the flesh, least the remembrance of them and the longer treating of the ould sin breed a newe sin by unlawfull delight: In which confes­sion, contrition and sensible devotion, lett him accustome to lament, more that he hath behaved him selfs contume­lionsly and ingratfully to words his Creator and father, then that he hath brought him selfe in danger of eternall pu­nishment.

In the formes of lamenta­tion and godly complaints which we have prescribed, he need not care for running over many sentences: But let him [Page 109]take which he will, and as ma­ny as he will, observing no or­der if he make choice of only one, or two, or three, which soever thy be, he may re­peate againe and againe, he shall doe well. We would that he should doe freely accor­ding to his devotion alwayes avoiding confusion and per­plexity: I knowe one, that being externally; busied, in his conversion to our lords passion among chaste discour­ses tooke delight to call to mynde these few words, or the like: O good JESU, ô pious Pastour, ô sweet Master: good JESU, have mercy on me: pious Pastour direct me: sweet [Page 110]Master teach me: my lord hel­pe me: Another there was that did take delight torune over sometimes more, sometimes fe­wer of the afor said lamenta­tions and to expresse them in diversity of words recording to his affection. Let our yoing beginner, as I have said, be free in these things, and let him stirr himselfe to compunction and diligence in his spirituall purpose by meditating, if he please upon death purgatory, judgement, hell and heaven.

Which kinde of meditation, by howe much the neerer it draweth to liberall feare and the love of God by soe much it is the more acceptable to [Page] [Page]

[Page 113]our lord, and more affectuall for the purifing of the soule: againe by how much the more it participateth of liberall and servile feare by so much is it the lesse profitable: By libe­rall feare we feare to sin, least we offend our most bountefull lord God, and soe loose his fa­vour and familiarity. By ser­vile feare we feare to doe ill, least we should undergoe dam­nation and punishment: Never­thelesse it is good to be with drawne from sinning by servile feare but soe, that we stay not there, but passe on to liberall feare: in meditating on eternall glory, let him goe thus or in the like manner to worke: ô [Page 114]how blessed is that heavenly Hierusalem: the walls whereof consist of most pretious stones: the gates where of shine with most choice pearles: the streets where of are paved with most pure gold: the gardens simile being dekt with flowers most incomprehensibly flourishing. There the sound of joy is per­petuall: there the canticle of gladnesse is over song by an unwearied quire: there the ju­bily of exultation is alvvayes renevved there the instru­ments of the saints doe al­vvayes resoud: there cinnamon and baulme incessantly breath forth an unspeakable odour of svveetnesse: there is peace and [Page 115]rest overcoming all sence: the­re is temperatnesse and calm­nesse beyonde all human reach there is eternall day and one spirit of all: there is sure secu­rity, secure eternity, eternall tranquillity quiet happinesse, happy svveetnesse, and svvee­te mirth: there the just shall shime as the sun in the kingdo­me of their father. O vvhat happenesse is it to be among the quires of Angells, to have per­petuall fellovvship vvith the holy Patriarkes and Prophets, vvith the holy Confessors and Virgins and with the most glo­rious Mother of God. Not to feare, not to be sorrowfull, not to be in anguish, not to be [Page 118]greived, not to be troubled with tediousnesse, to endure no labour, no impediment, no loathsomnesse, no necessity: O what a wealth of consolation what a sea of delights, what an abundance of joyes, what pro­fundity of most pure pleasure will it behould that incircum­scriptible light, to see that mo­ste amiable brightnesse, to see that unspeakable glory of the moster high Trinity, to see the God of Gods in Sion, to see him not ariddle, but face to fa­ce, to see also the glorified hu­manity of the only begotten God for if the visible bravery of the heavens be a pleasant sight, or to behould the glit­tering [Page] [Page]

[Page 119]clearnesse of the starres, to see the glorious beutye of the sun, to see the shining of the palefaced moone, to con­sider the gratfull light of the aire, to contemplate the ele­gant neatnesse of birds, flowers, grasse and colours, to listen to the sweete chanting, of nigh­tinger als and larkes, to heare the melodious harmony of Harpe and Lute, to smell to the fragrant Roses and Lillyes, to drawe the breath that spices and perfumes send forth, to taste the deliciousnesse of di­verse palate pleasing fruits: if I say, there be soe great pleasure in these things, what a torrent of most sincere de­light [Page 120]light will it be perfectly to contemplate that immense beauty, and perfectly to taste that infinite sweetnesse from whence all beauty, all sweet­nesse of things created floweth downe to us: The spring tyde representh unto us the state of eternall felicity, and the future resurrection: for then we see heaven earth, trees and all things els with a certaine new grace to be decked with admireable ornaments: not withstanding there is greater difference beweene that which it represently, and that which is represented, then betweene noone and midinght. Blessed therefore, yea thrice blessed is [Page] [Page]

[Page 123]that heavenly Hierusalem where nothing wanteth that may please and whence all things are banished that may displea­se, where almighty God is happily praysed for ever. Let him learne purely to frequent the joyes of this supernall cit­ty, to love and desire them, yet not soe much for his one profitt, as for the profitt and honour of God. Although in­deed the meditation of eter­nall life may be more sincerely practised by him, that hath bin a proficient in internall con­versation, then by him that hath scarcely attayned to the begining of his owne mortifica­tion, and knoweth better ho­we [Page 124]to seeke himselfe then God. In our above related medita­tion let a novice exercise him­selfe continually for the space of one, three, or six monthes, yea for a whole yeare or more: untill he perceave with in him­selfe an absolute contempt of the world and himselfe, and that he begineth to feele the fervent purpose of a spirituall life to take roote in him. Som­me are with more difficulty, some more easily turned to the better. And some, whome it pleaseth God ont of his moste infinite favour moste liberally to prevent are presently chan­ged. In the meane time he may also employ himselfe in than­kesgiving [Page 125]in praysing God, and other prayers: but let his chei­fe employment be in reasona­ble mourning for, and perse­cuting of his sinnes. Let him not be troubled if he cannot drawe teares externally for he lacketh not teares internally, that truly hateth all sinne and iniquity.

Nowe after he hath in some measure reformed the image of God with in himselfe by healthfull bitternesse of mour­ning and contrition, he may with greater confidence and profitt imitate the above pro­posed example of exercise.

Therefore lett him take cou­rage, and fervently prepare [Page 126]himselfe for a more intimate familiarity with the heavenly briedegroome. But as long as he is weake or colde he shall kindle in himselfe the fire of divine love by serious medita­ting on the incarnation or pas­sion of the only begotten son­ne of God, sweetly conferring with his soule concerning the­se things. By which medita­tion being once inflamed, let him compose himselfe by prayer and aspirations, desi­ring, by them to unite his spi­rit to the cheifest good. If he often persist by this meanes to drawe his heart to the love of God, he shall soone bring himselfe to that passe, that [Page 127]presently at the first conven­tion of his mynde or aspira­tion without any premedita­tion he may be able to separa­te himselfe from creatures and their imagination, and plunge himselfe in the sweetnesse of divine love. Then he shall not so much need to remember each, particular sinne of his li­fe past in his penance before God, and with sorrowe to di­rect the insight of his heart unto him, for soe might his freedome and affection to­wards good be hindred: but ra­ther let him amorously direct his heart to God himselfe de­testing whatsoever may sepera­te or with drawe him from him [Page 128]neyther do we meane that he should negligently forget his sinnes: but so to remember them, that the remembrance hinder not a greater profitt, therefore lett him confesse them dayly to God rather summarily then particulerle. Truly we have a more present remedy against lesser sinnes, when we turne to God by a sweete and effectuall affection of love, then when we tedious­ly bisi our selves in the consi­deration of them, and severe punishment of them. Let him therefore cast them away into the bottomlesse depth of Gods divine mercy and goodnesse, that like a sparkle of fire in the [Page 129]midest of the sea they may the­re perish. Let him endeavour to reject quite and cleane all inordinate pusillanimity, and superfluons scruples of con­science, and perplexed diffi­dence whensoever they arise. For vnlesse they be presently lopped of they doe diverse wayes chooke up the alacrity of the mynde, and very much hinder our internall going for­ward.

CHAPTER VII. Every one ought to consider his owne ability and to proceede accordingly.

MOreover let him at­tempt nothing beyond his strength, but be content with his lott. If he cannot reach as farre as he desireth, lett him reach as farre as he can: And unlesse he flatter himselfe, he may easily knowe what proceedings he is able to make. Neverthelesse the devine bounty is liberall, infusing it selfe wheresoever it findeth a myn­de worthyly prepared.

Wherefore if our spirituall practitioner be not yet admit­ted to the sublimity of contemplation and perfect charity lett him thinke himselfe as yet not prepared for the receipt of soe great a good. And what good would it doe him to receave that grace, which he knew not howe to make good use of. Lett him make haste to pull up all vice by the roote, that he may be the fitter. But still with this proviso, that he strive not beyond his strength. Lett him not impatiently try to forerun Gods grace, but humbly to followe it. Lett him not, I say, violently force his spirit thither, whither he cannot [Page 132]reach: least presuming which he ought not, he tumble himselfe downe headlong by his owne violence, and being crushed be punished for his rashnesse. Lett him soe tend to perfection that unbrideled violence and turbulent solicitude beare no part in his indeavours. Lett him attend the measure of grace given him, and with all remem­ber, that he shall farre more easily, safely, quickly, and hap­pily, attayne to the highest degree of contemplation, it is to the comprehending of misti­call divinity, if he be touched and rapt by the meere grace of God, then if he endeavour to attayne unto it by his owne [Page 133]labours: Lett him alwayes therefore observe a meane with discretion, least by exces­se he rum into defects. The bread of teares is good and many when they should re­fresh themselves surfet by it. For they insist so long in tea­res, and with so great cōfusion and agitation, that both spirit and body are fayne to lye do­wne under the too much in­tent or extended exercise. We confesse that many by discre­tion and the help of the holy Ghost can long and profitably mourne. And there are many agayne that being internally inebriated with the torrent of pleasure which they take in [Page 134]God. Do unseasonably urge and spur forward themselfes to greater violence, and desist not from this indiscreet forcing themselfes, untill being hurt and confounded they fall and faynte in themselfes, and are thenceforth made unapt to re­ceave the sweetnesse of grace. Wherefore the internall heate and violence is alwayes soe to be moderated that the spirit be not extinguished, but com­forted by it. They whose heads are of a good temper, may mo­re fervently and strougly insist in fervent aspirations: but they that have weake heads (espe­cially if the weaknesse growe by indiscretion are not able to [Page 135]exercise themselfes otherwise then very gently and mode­ratly. And such can scarrely somtimes admitt a simple com­punction of mynde, or medi­tation, or reading wihout hurt yea although they leave their heade on some place. So great is the calamity that procee­deth of the vice of indiscre­tions. But lett them not dispai­re, that are brought to that passe: But lett them diligently (asmuch as in them lyeth) a­voide the discommodity of this hurte or confusion, and humbly pray to God for the restoring of that which they have spoiled themselfes. If God be pleased to heare them, [Page 136]lett them be thankfull: if not, lett them blesse our lord: and for his love learne according to his pleasure patiently to en­dure this misery, which they have done on themselfes. Lett our internall practitioner be­ware also of all lightnesse of inconstancy and instability. Lett him take in hand those exercises that are good: and lett him goe on with what he hath once begunne, although they like him not: but soe that the pleasure of the holy Ghost be followed in all, the decree of his owne will and appoint­ment being rejected. For the holy Ghost doth diverse wayes as it were invite us and use to [Page 137]as bring us by diverse pathes to that wyne celler and bedchamber of divine love: whose in­stinct we must still obsearve and most readily followe, lay­ing aside all propriety where­fore this our spirituall scoller shall often present himselfe to the holy Ghost as a prepa­red instrument: and which way soever the holy Ghost shall bend and apply, lett him pre­sently followe: if att any ti­me he shall be drawne or e­levated up to the soaring con­templation and embracements of the cheifest good, lett him freely offer up himselfe: and if the passion of Christ, or any holy meditation and imagina­tion [Page 138]occurre, lett him not stay at it, but with all expedition fly thither, whether he is cal­led by the spirit

When he dout fully stagge­reth in his purpose not kno­wing how he ought to procee­de in his begun enterprise, lett him use the counsell of men that are prudent, expert, and humble: for soe he shall be a greater proficient, then if re­lying uppon himselfe he pro­ceede according to his owe in­ventions.

But in the meane time lett him not forget carefully to ha­ve recourse to the remedy of prayer humbly beseeching in all things to be directed and il­luminated [Page 139]by our lord: least at any time being deceaved he followe error insteed of truth. And let him alwayes remem­bet, that he can never perfect­ly be at leasure for God, vn­lesse his heart be free and clea­ne from all things besids God: you have nowe heard, Brother, after a manner howe he shold begin and howe he should goe forward in externall exercises, that desireth to attayne to any excellent degree of a pure life. It shall be your parte not only to heare and reade these things bu also to put them in practise. Which if you doe, and have helpe from above, and that you beginne to be cleare with [Page 140]in, and that psalmodis and o­ther offices of divine praise wax sweet unto you, search not to high, but be afraide. For although your heart being inlarged you doe awhile run­ne the way of Gods comman­dements, you have not of your selfe inlarged your hearte, but God hath done it. And he that enlarged it can permitt it, his grace being with drawne, to be agayne coupled up and inpri­soned. The sunne of justice hath shined on you, and cer­taine scales being taken of, hath illuminated your mynde: but who can hinder him from hiding himselfe, of he be soe pleased. We you therefore [Page 141]ready: for he will hide himsel­fe and his amiable brightnesse being once departed, your sen­ces shall againe be darkned and hindred. Moreover cer­taine immistions by evill an­gells will tosse the shiop of your brest: yea peradventure the temptation will be soe strong, that you will thinke all to oppose it selfe against you. You will seeme to your selfe to be wholy given over to satan: and will not have list to open your mouth in Gods praise. Neyther shall this calamity en­dure a little while. Neyther shall you only once or thrice or six, or ten times be layed hold on by it, but very often, [Page 142]sometimes more vehemently then at others. But be not de­jected att this: Neyther thinke any thing sinnisterly of your faulte. For he hath permitted you to be tempted that it may be manifest if you truly love him and that you may learne to pitty, others that are op­pressed by temptations. He scourgeth and bruseth you, that he may purge you from vice, and prepare you for mo­re grace. He seemeth to leave you as it were for a time, that you wax not prond, but may alwayes acknowledge that you can do nothing without him: yet neverthelesse he doth not forsake you. He exerciseth [Page 143]you in these, and the like ad­versities out of the unspeaka­ble charity where with he loveth you. For the heavenly spouse useth this kinde of di­spensation with a fervent soule converted unto him. He visi­teth her solemnly in the begin­ning of her new purpose, doth comfort, and illustrat her and after he hath recreated and al­lured her with his sweete smell he draweth her after him and lovingly meeteth her almost every where, with his mille feeding his new friud.

Afterwards he beginneth to administer to her the solid foo­de of affliction, and playnly sheweth her howe much she [Page 144]ought to endure for his name. Nowe she beginneth to be in a sea of troubles: men molest her without, passions trouble her with in: punishments af­flict her externally, internally she becommeth dejected by pusillanimity: externally she is greived with infirmities, in­ternally darknesse overcasteth and clowdeth her: the exter­nall parts are oppressed, the internall dried up: one while the bridgroome hideth him­selfe from the soule, another while he discovereth himselfe unto her: Nowe he leaveth her as it were in the darknesse and horrour of death, and presently recalleth her to the [Page 145]sweetnesse of light: insomuch that it may be truly said of him, that he leadeth downe to hell, and bringeth backe againe. By such meanes he tryeth puri­fieth, humbleth, teacheth, weanes draws & adorns the soule: if he finde her faith­full in all things, and to be of a good will and holy pa­tience, and that by long exercise and his grace she doth mildly and affectionately en­dure all tribulations and tem­ptations, then doth he more perfectly joyne her to himsel­fe, and familiarly make her partaker of his secrets, and binde her farre otherwise to him, then he did at the begin­ning [Page 146]of her conversion: Be not therefore troubled, when ve­hement temptation scourgeth you but as if you receaved a tooken of his love remayne faythfull and invincible in your agonies, saying with blessed Job: Although he shall kill me, I will trust in him during this storme it will be somewhat hard for you to be present at the divine office, by reason of the too much instability and cloudinesse of your mynde. Not withstanding be patient and gently do what lyeth in your power. The night will passe away darknesse will be dispersed and light will take place againe. But as long as it [Page 147]is yet night take heed you be not found idle and negligent: if you have no list to pray, sing, or meditate, then read. If your minde loath reading write, or manfully, exercise your selfe for the time, in some other ex­ternall worke, in the meane time diligently rejecting the troubles of vaine cogitations. If drowsinesse doe unseasona­molest you, so that it grevious­ly depresse you, you shall peradventure (time and place permitting) do better if some­what pertinently to the ho­nour of God, leaning your head somewhere, you slum­ber a little, then if inexorably you resist it: for if by labour [Page 148]you thinke to drive it away, as long as you labour you shall be free: But that once paste, and you betaking your selfe to your spirituall exercises, it will easily returne if you slee­pe lett it not be deepe, nor long: soe that it last no longer, then one may read one, or two, or three Psalmes: for so your spirit being as it were re­newed, will arise with more expedition and alacrity. They that knowe not howe to be­have themselves soberly in ea­ting, drinking, and the custo­die of their sences, if thy fly to this remedy, it is to be fea­red least they rather aggrava­te, then alleviate this disease: [Page 149]and falling into a deepe and long sleepe miserably loose their time by sluggishnesse: watch carefully against those temptations by with the devill endeavoureth to encline the mynde to those things that are indecent and vitious: Be sure to reject them in the very be­ginning, before they take pos­session of you with in for unles­se you repell the adversary at the first onset, if he gett en­trance, he will presently clap bolts on your soule: and you being destitute of liberty and force will hardly be able to re­sist. But if you have behaved your selfe negligently and he fetter you, doe not yeild soe, [Page 150]but deny your consent, and strive against him even by cree­ping on the ground, and pray to our lord in the strength of your spirit, that freeing your bonds he will restore you to liberty, or at least preserve you from giving consent. But knowe that many times you shall more easily overcome the adversary suggesting any filthy impious, and absurd thing, if you contemne and sett light by his barking, and soe passe them over, then if you strive long with him, and with great labour endeavour to stop his wicked mouth; But if he over much importune you, and being repelled once or twise [Page 151]do still come on a fresh, you must meete with him on play­ne termes, that being over­throwne in plaine grounde he may fly away with disgrace. Nowe he setteth on us many wayes: for sometimes he see­keth to ensnare us secretly and under pretence of piety: sometimes he setteth uppon us openly and with open fury: so­metimes he creepeth by little: sometimes he breaketh forth sodenly and unlooked for so­metimes he layeth siege to us by spirituall and internall mea­nes, sometimes by corporall and externall adversayes or prosperities: wherefore we must alwayes have recourse [Page 152]to the aide of our lords passion, and cry to God with teares. But as I have already said, soa­re not too high by reason of the grace, which peradventu­re you have. For what have you, that you have not recea­ved why doe you glory, as if you had not receaved, take heed therefore that by noe meanes you open the windo­we of your heart to the blast of vaine glory or the aire of selfe complacence: see you brag not see you boaste not abroade of what you have receaved: But keepe your secret to your selfe, let it abide with you: unlesse you happen to reveale it humbly and modestly to so­me [Page 153]intimate and secret friend for spirituall utility or consola­tion or that you be compelled by obedience, or other mani­fest necessity, or great profitt. See that you beleeve not, that you have receaved the gift of God by your owne merits and labours: but rather judge your selfe unworthy (as indeed you are) of all grace and consola­tion, and worthy of all confu­sion and dereliction. Compa­re your selfe with those that are more holy, that by consi­deration of their perfection you may the better acknow­ledg your owne imperfection: humble and deject your selfe: place your selfe unfaynedly [Page 154]belowe all men: but you will say howe can I doe this considering that many with out feare or shame live moste debau­chedly which I neyther doe, nor will doe: what shall I cast my selfe belowe them: shall I place them above me: I say you shall.

CHAPTER VIII. A very good meanes to obtayne, humility.

FOr if you consider that these who to day are soe bad, may to morrowe be mo­re perfect then your selfe: and that if they had recea­ved [Page 155]the gifts, that are gran­ted you from above, they would leade a farre more holy life then your selfe: and that you would sinne more gre­viously then they, if you were not prevented by a more abun­dant grace: I say if you consi­der these things, you will ea­sily observe howe fitt it were, that you should preferr every sinner before your selfe: O if you did knowe the secret of God, howe willingly would you give place to others, howe gladly would you take the lo­west place, howe joyfully would you lay your selfe at the feete of others, with what alacrity would you attend the [Page 156]sicke, howe devoutly would you honour all, howe affectio­natly obedient would you be without any delay or com­plaint: But yet I require a mo­re excellent thing of you, viz that you place your selfe not only belowe all men in your heart for Gods sake, but also belowe each creature, re­puting your selfe as moste ab­ject dust, esteeminge your sel­fe unworthy to tread on the earth, or to enjoy the bene­fitt of light: looke more ex­actly into your selfe, howe in­gratefull, tepid, unstable, mi­serable, and vile you are: and by that meanes you will attai­ne to that moste humble sub­mission [Page 157]of mynde: if the old enemy knocke importunatly at the dore of your heart put­ting into your conceit that you should thinke your selfe some body, that you should vainely glory and compare your selfe with others: repell the subtill villany, locke the dores against him: and al­though you feele some pesti­lent immissions, beware al­wayes of giving your consent: for if you consent, if you let in the impostour and incline your mynde to his unlawfull allurements, you have broken your faith and vow, which you have made to the bride­groome of your soule: you ha­ve [Page 158]polluted the bed of your beloved, which before flouri­shed: neyther can you be ad­mitted to his most blessed fa­miliarity, unlesse you cast out the adulterer, and humble your selfe exceedingly. And peradventure you shall not be receaved to favour, unlesse you be first punished and affli­cted for a while, and that the filthy kisses which the impure spirit hath imprinted on your soule, be rased out by the scourge of God. But enough hath bin spoken of this.

CHAPTER IX.

HItherto we have spoken how you ought to assist at the divine office, what in­ternall exercises you should undertake, what rule to be observed, what to be followed, what to be avoided in them, we will nowe passe to the rest, that we have to speake of. As for corporall refections, be­ware of all excesse: least being overloaden you be made unapt for all spirituall exercises. For it cannot be, but that the belly swelling by imtemperance must needs drawe away the mynde from God, and those [Page 160]things that belong to salva­tion, wine especially beinge more largely used, although without drunkennesse, is a great impediment: it inflameth the body, confoundeth the internall parts and distressing the alacrity of the spirit, stir­reth up a beastly kinde of slug­gishnesse. In vayne therefore doth that man aspire to a spiri­tuall life, that yeildeth to his belly: Lop of therefore all vitious desires. Take noe care whether your meate or drinke be very delicate or sweet of it selfe. If it be mans meat, and reasonable, what neede you desire more: you are a monke: come then to the table to re­fresh [Page] [Page]

[Page 163]your body of Gods gifts, not to nourish the pleasures of the flesh: wherefore if you are troubled about the goodnesse of your victualls and doe mur­mer as I have already said, soe I say againe, you are no mon­ke: if JESUS were truly plea­sing to your heart what poore fare for his sake would not be pleasing to your pallate. For JESUS is a moste pleasant sau­ce, even to extreame poverty. Love him, and all manner of foode will not be lesse, nay will be more pleasing unto you, then the delicious ban­quets of kings. JESUS being hungry for your sake was often fed with bace bread: JESUS [Page 164]thirsting for your sake dranke vineger and gall. Take your meate and drinke continently, leasurely and moderatly, ex­cluding all brutish gredinesse. Have a care even of the natu­rall delight, that proceedeth from your naturall refection. Doe not reflect upon it, do not desire to feede your sensuality: for if you feed that, it will fee­de on you, and pollute you within: And as you must of­ten deny the flesh what it evil­ly desireth: soe sometimes you must force it to receave what it desireth not. For sometimes it doth in a manner loath that, which naturall necessitye re­quireth.

Further more beware that while you refresh your body your mynde be not in the mea­ne time hungerstarved. There­fore let the mouth of your heart feed on the word of God, and let your eares receave the wholesome doctrine and deeds of the saints: And if you hap­pen to sitt at that table, where there is noe holy reading, do not thus deprive your selfe of her spirituall foode; but as much as silence will permitt, converse inwardly either with your soule or with God and propose to your selfe some godly thing to keepe your sel­fe doing. As in your dyet, soe be alsoe sober in apparell. Re­ject, [Page 166]scorne, and detest what soever is contrary to monasti­call simplicity. Neyther doe you imitate those vaine and wretched monkes, that are ashamed of their estate and vocation, but not of their lewd life and conversation: who if they are to goe abroad and to come into the sight of seculars will bewray their foolishnesse and curiosity: They must for­sooth have such and such clo­thes, and weare their cassoke after this or that fashion. They are ashamed to weare their apparell according as religion doth ordayne, and according to the constitutions of their su­periours and ancestors: And [Page 167]soe comming abroade not like humble monkes, but like deli­cate and neate courtiers by this prodigious sight they pro­voke wise men to sorrowe and indignation, but finde mat­ter of mirth for the devill, e­vidently shewing by this ab­surdity what they are with in viz proude, wanton, and full of vaine glory: Alas wret­ched monkes farre wide from the scope of true religion: O monkes not monkes: but mon­sters: ô monkes detestable, by being thus deluded by the de­vills cloathing. Is this it, that you promised to God, when by the most sacred vowe of po­verty, you solemly renounced [Page 168]the world with all the pompe and vanities there of: is this it, that the king of kings hath taught you by his word: is this it, that he hath shewed by his example, when being wrapt in base clouwts, he had noe other cradle then a manger. When likewise he was apparelled in a white garment and a purple robe in scorne: is this to follo­we JESUS: is this to tread in JESUS footesteeps. O into­lerable confusion. O extremi­ty of madnesse. Looke to your selfe, brother, that you beco­me not like these: but rather bee content with plaine appa­rell whether you be with in the monastery or without, For [Page 169]thus much your profession ex­acceth of you. Every where, but especially during the divi­ne office keepe your eyes from wandring: neyther lightly loo­ke about you either this way or that, unlesse necessity re­quire: least you chance to see something, that may hinder you from attention and purity of heart. But although there be noe feare of danger, yet monasticall dicipline requireth that whether you rest or goe, you use modestly to looke do­wne upon the ground. Never looke curiously on the face of any.

Let not your gate be too swift or hasty especially in the [Page 170]church, unlesse it happen that of necessity it must be soe. Ney­ther out of the church let it be overslowe or remisse but mo­dest and civill: In all things compose your selfe to a lauda­ble carriage of your whole bo­dy.

Let your lookes before o­thers be pleasing with a decent gravity, behaving your selfe, courteously and affably to­wards all. And if against your will you happen to be over so­rowfull, soe dissemble it, that you seeme not unpleasant and harsh, and soe be troublesome to the rest: when you are for­ced to laugh, laugh sparingly and like a monke: Avoide lon­ge [Page 171]laughter as a great impedi­ment to you in your purpose, and as the distruction of your soule: knowing that vehement and immoderate laughter doth violate the cloisters of mode­sty and dispersing the interiour powers of the soule driveth the grace of the holy Ghost our of your heart.

Above all things love soli­tude, silence, and taciturnity. Be more ready to heare, then to speake: Be not hasty, nor turbulent, nor clamorons, nor contentious in words: But speake modestly bashfully, courteously and without dis­sembling, what is true and right. Be not, I say too lowd: [Page 172]nor yet soe lowe that you can­not be understood, especially if the place, time, cause, or person to whom you speake require, that you speake some­what more lowd then ordina­ry: for as the voice of a monke should alwayes be bashfull, and for the most parte lowe ac­cording to the holy ordina­tions of religion: soe alsoe so­metimes it ought to be reaso­nable lowde affirme nothing obstinatly: unlesse matter of fayth or necessity of salvation constraine: but whosoever con­tradicteth you, either yeild or hould your peace, if neyther ought to be donne affirme with modesty and humility [Page 173]what you knowe to be certai­ne. For by this meanes you shall take away all occasion of irreligions contention. Lett not your words be biting. Wil­lingly speake not any thing that may be either to your owne credit, or anothers dis­commendation. But if out of necessity or utility you speake any such thing, doe it with a laudable modesty and a pure intention. Abhorre dissolute tales as the poyson of the sou­les. As for jests (if they hap­pen in your presence) albeyt you suffer them, yet relate them not. Never consent to a tongue, that speaketh foolish­ly unseemely, and pernicious­ly. [Page 174]Yea, if such things are spo­ken, doe you if it seeme good, mildly and with reason finde fault with the speaker: if you thinke it not good, yet at least cutt of his speech honestly and endeavour to drawe him to better discourse: if possibly you may give noe eare to back bi­ters. The liberty of externall recreation granted you, either by walking or otherwise, see you abuse not: that is, make such use of them, that they hinder not your spirituall going forward, but rather fur­ther it. You may indeed to the honour of God slake your mynde, but let it not loose: least whilest you wander abroade [Page 175]being expelled out of your selfe, some delight or passion contrary to the spirit, lay hold on you, and disperse your in­teriour sences, and replenish them with bitternesse. There­fore carefully learne by a cer­taine advised simplicity of minde to abide within your selfe: that the noyse of vaine cogita­tions and the motion of inordi­nate affections being repres­sed, you may keepe your heart in silence and liberty. Let God be your cheife, yea your who­le thought and study for it is not enough for you, that he be your whole intention.

Likewise in all externall oc­cupations endeavour, that [Page 176]with Martha you doe not only for the honour of God perfor­me your worke prudently, de­voutly, and with alacrity, but that also in those workes which you faithfully doe to the honour of God, with Ma­ry you direct your mynde being freed from the tumult of cogitations and the confused imagination of sensible things, to God, or those things that are divine: especially if reaso­nable discourse or any other necessity hinder not.

CHAPTER X. Martha may serve as a mirour for imperfect Religious men; Ma­ry Magdalen for such as are growne to perfection.

MArtha because she is distracted in her exter­nall actions and in her right intentions by the multiplicity of vaine cogitations, and is troubled about many things, although peradventure she bee not deformed, yet is she not comely enough. But Ma­ry because she knoweth howe to forsake the troups of unsta­ble cogitations, and persisting [Page 178]in unity and tranquillity of mynde doth strive to cleave to goodnesse it selfe, is of more perfect beauty. Wherefore howsoever you are externally occupyed, love not only to be right and innocent with Mar­tha, but also to be cleare and simple with Mary. Mary hath chosen the better parte which shall not be taken away from her. And you have chosen the same: which unlesse you kee­pe according to your power, you produce not fruit worthy your profession. Have there­fore alwayes a charitable sim­plicity of mynde if you be yet a little one in Christ, and are not able to followe Mary soa­ring [Page 179]soe high in mynde: imitate her humility: imitate her affe­ctionate watring our lords fee­te with teares: imitate her sweetly feeding on our lords words: imitate her most amo­rously seeking our lord in the sepulcher. For even in these she had simplicity of mynde: she loved one thing. She thought on, one thing, she sought one thing: But imitate her not for your owne delight, but to please our lord. For if by spirituall delectation you doe principally seeke your sel­fe in these, your soule is, not the chast spowse of Christ, but the most baise servant of sinne, I might say, the divells impure [Page 180]hackney: you shall at length merit to be admitted to the ap­prehension of higher misteries by these that are more lowe, if I may soe call them, which indeed are not lowe, but of a wondrous hight.

In all things, that differ not from the sincerity of a monasti­call life, conforme your selfe to the community, still avoi­ding vitious singularity: And because you live amonge Mon­kes that live laudably accor­ding to the sweete austerity of a holy rule, be not singular in abstinence and watching: ney­ther exceede the rest of the Monkes therein: unlesse by the revelation of the holy [Page 181]Ghost you knowe it to be the will and pleasure of God. Nei­ther attempt any thing without the counsell and consent of your superior: least while you presume of your owne head to afflict your body beyoud mea­sure, you make your selfe una­ble for good workes, and who­ly deprive your selfe of the fruite of your labour: God re­quireth of you purity of myn­de, not the overthrowe of your body. He would that you should subject it to the spirit, not that you should oppresse it. Therefore as well in exter­nall exercises as internall, tem­per the fervour of your mynde with a holy discretion.

If your will being more slo­we to vertue and remisse doe as it were sleepe, rowse it up, spur it forward. But if having to much bridle, it runne too fast, represse and cheeke it. Alwayes asist it with holy fea­re in the presence of God. And let these words alwayes re­sounde in the eares of your heart: looke to thy selfe. Con­sider not over curiously the deeds of others, what are their manners and behaviour, unles­se it belong unto you as an of­ficer. Let your curiosity and businesse be about your selfe. Howebeyt thinke not in this that I would have you make noe accompt of the excesses or [Page 183]finnes of others, or neglect to amende them asmuch as in you lyeth, or procure them to bee amended. For we condemne curiosity not holy zeale of ju­stice. We discommend not what in this case is not against mature stability, or contrary to the sincere love, of your neighbour. These vices that you see in others or heare of them, either thinke them not to be simply true, or interpret them in the better parte: but if they be soe manifest, that no interpretation can qualifie them, endeavour to seperate your sight both of body and mynde from them, and refle­cting on your owne sinnes if [Page 184]you have leasure, humbly pray to God both for your selfe and for them. For soe shall you more easily avoide unquiet sus­picions and rashe judgements: But beware that with consent of reason you rejoyce not at anothers sinne though of sma­le moment, or of any adversi­ty: but mourne for your bro­ther before our lord, calling to mynde that we are mēbers one of another, all one body, and redeemed all with the sa­me blood. Learne not to be angry, but to pitty the defects of others, and patiently to beare with them, whether they be defects of body or mynde.

For it is written: beare one [Page 185]anothers burdens: and soe you shall fullfill the lawe of Christ. Let not the heavenly grace, with you observe in o­thers excite you to satanicall envy, but to a faithfull imita­tion and godly congratulation. And although you have not the spirituall good, that you knowe another to be blessed with, yet rejoyce in heart that God is honoured by it: as rea­dily thanke our lord for it, as if it were your owne.

And indeed it will be to your owne good, and you shall be crowned for anothers, as for your owne. Nay more it shall become your owne: soe order your mynde, that you desire [Page 186]not to please the world, nor feare to displease it. In man al­though very neerly allyed, lo­ve, nothing but good, or the grace and workmanship of good. And agayne hate no­thing but vice.

Offend not God willingly either for kinsman frinds, or any other bodies sake though never soe well deserving at your hands: neyther favour, flatter, or applaud any one in any sinne. Doe not earnestly desire the presence or speech of any man unlesse it be for so­me spirituall good: and yet a perplexed earnestnesse is ney­ther then good. Love all men, but spiritually, not sensually. [Page] [Page]

[Page 189]For soe it will come to passe, that you will not be inordinat­ly troubled at the corporall absence of such as are vertuous or your frinds, nor afflicted at the corporall presence of such as are vitious or your enemies.

Nay esteeme noe man your enemie, but love even your persecutors, as the moste dea­re furtherers of your salvation. What soever you see, heare, or perceave, in creatures to be delightfull and worthy of singuler admiration, either by their naturall disposition, or the art and industery of man, referre it to the praise of the great Creator, or the use of eternall beatitude, that you [Page 190]may be delighted in our lord. Alwayes be afraide of sensuall delectation whencesoever it have its beginning. For if you seeke your selfe by that and cleave to it, you will be en­tangled and defiled: utterly detest the love of all sinnes, yea even of the very least. By which not withstanding, if peradventure being over rea­ched you fall out of frailty, af­flict not your selfe unreasona­ble with inordinate pusillani­ty, but humbly confesse your fault before our lord: and re­newing your good purpose and piously taking heart caste all your defects into the un­searchable profundity of his [Page 191]mercies, or his moste holy wouds. As long as you live in this clay building of your body you may mortifie in your selfe the affections of lesser sinnes, but wholy avoide to slip into them you cannot: godly Mon­kes although thy slip someti­mes, yea very often, yet they hate sinning and beware of it, and greive after they have of­fended. But perverse Monkes sinne without hating, without bewayling of it. For they take noe paines to extinguish the affections of lesser faults nor to avoide the occasions of them. They desire the liberty of a more loose life: they love to be absent from divine office [Page 192]and other conventuall acts: they desire delicate and super­fluous meate and drinke: they espie out oportunities of tri­fling: they affect inordinate laughter. They delight in se­culer businesses, to see vani­ties, to have curious things for their owne use: selfe compla­cence, foolish joy, idlenesse, vaine talke, fables, fantastique behaviour, and such other vi­ces are with them not at all, or scarcely accounted faults: in their conscience they make no bones of them. For being made insensible they thinke themselves whole, when they are deeply wounded: and the­refore neyther care for lamen­ting [Page 193]their sinnes, nor amending their life. But what say they, these say they, are noe wounds, or of thy bee, they are very lit­le ones, and as much as no­thing: O wretched Monkes. O mad Monkes: O Monkes, not Monkes. For although they seeme little, yet because they are not afraide to receave them, and after receipt of them deferre to cure them, they be­come mortall: I speake nothing of their falling into pride, re­bellion, disobedience, murmu­rations, fury, detractions, ha­tred, envy, contempt, glutto­ny, with other hideous sines, and all by this negligence: Doe not, brother, doe not imitate [Page 194]these: for they are not the des­ciples of the Crucified, and the beloved frinds of God: Neyther ever shall be, unlesse they leave of to be what they are: looke you better to your selfe: leave, remove, cast asi­de whatsoever may any way hinder you from the true love of God.

CHAPTER XI. Perfect mortification is the cer­taine and only short way to perfection.

BY mortification as by a certaine and compendious way hasten to perfection of li­fe. [Page 195]Will you in fewe words knowe what this generality of mortification is. Will you kno­we that only certaine shorte cutt. I will tell you I will she­we you: give eare therefore: putt of all propriety: Behould this shorte way: putt of all propriety. And what is the meaning of this: lay aside all your owne will and seeking: put of all the owld man. But that you may the better un­derstand what is spoken, I will propose the same a little more plainly.

Have you bounde your selfe to the observance of poverty. Why then be poore. Poore howe is that: Be poore in the [Page 196]desire of wealth, and passions of the mynde, poore in spirit: if you love and desire any thing by proprietie of affection and sensuality, if as yet you seeke your selfe in any thing you are yet voluntary, you are not yet truly poore: you cannot yet with S. Peter say to God: soe we have left all: and have followed thee. Strip your selfe, leave all, putt of all propriety whatsoever is not God, let not abide in your heart by cleaving to it, or in ordinately loving it. Be free from all things that are besids God: in soe much that I would have you neyther foolishly to rejoyce for any good newes, [Page 197]nor to be inordinately deje­cted for any bad: and whether you have not receaved what you yet have not, or have lo­ste, what you have, every way keepe a stable and quiet state of mynde for Gods sake utter­ly deny all sensible things, yea even your selfe. Which is as­much as to say: mortifie in your selfe the force of concu­pisence, delight, anger, and naturall indignation: and aswell in adversity as prosperity re­signe your selfe over to Gods divine pleasure, without any contradiction of will. I have shewed you, that this shorte way and generall mortification of your selfe is none other [Page 198]then the genetall casting away of all propriety, that is an hu­miliation of your selfe in all kinds. For indeed perfect humility it selfe is that shorte way, by which you goe streight for­ward to the forte of perfection. Nowe this forte, is perfect charity or purity: you will de­mand howe you may knowe whether you have attayned to that forte. I will give you ma­nifest instructions. If alwayes abiding in silence of heart as in a moste quiet haven, you af­fectionatly direct and incline towards God your mynde, being free from all inordinate care, affection and earnest ima­gination of things that are be­lowe [Page 199]you, and in a word from all disquiet and tumult: soe that your memory, your un­derstanding, your will, that is, your whole spirit possessing the above named forte be hap­pily united to God.

This is the sume of all per­fection. For although being clothed with this corruptible flesh we cannot alwayes by present insight and memory sticke to the Theory and spe­culation of God: yet here we ought alwayes to be fixed by our intention: and hither as to a marke we ought carefully to recall our mynde, as often as we waste our selfes by unsea­sonable light, and unsetled co­gitations. [Page 200]As long as by rea­ding, meditating, hearing, or speaking we profitably and sin­cerely treate of any contem­plative and spirituall matter, we are not separated from God. Neyther when (occasion requiring) wee doe with the like sobriety and sincerity speake or thinke of externall matters in their due time, doe we goe farre from God. O what a brave philosopher, what a wise man, what an ex­cellent devine shall I account you, ô howe happy and bles­sed, if you convey these things by your corporall eares into the eares of your heart, and being stirred up to the true [Page 201]mortification of your selfe do lay the axe to the roote of the tree, but what tree is this: it is propriety, of which we spa­ke a little before. But what is the axe then. It is the fervour of spirituall and internall exer­cise. But cheifly the dayly handling of our Lords passion, and often aspirations to God, with prompt obedience and a reasonable sobriety of diet are this axe. It is certainly a sharpe axe, a blessed axe, a moste gratefull axe, an axe that bringeth with it all good, and all purity, a golden axe, and deked with pretious stones. But the tree is a cursed tree, a tree full of moste bitter fruite, [Page 202]a tree of all evill, a tree that produceth and nourisheth all inordinatenesse, a tree of ob­scurity and darkenesse. This tree is in you, as also in all others, and as long as it abi­deth in you, you cannot have perfect light. If therefore you desire clearly to behold the bright beames of the sun of ju­stice, cutt downe this tree and cast it from you it is a very thic­ke and hard tree, not to be cutt downe at the first blowe, not the first day, nor perchance the first yeare, no nor perad­venture in a long time toge­ther: wherefore perseverance and patience are requisite. No­we as gold, if there be no let, [Page 203]naturally goeth downewards and the flame of fire is carried upwards. Soe the mynde that is purged and purified from the drosse of propriety and seeketh only the will of God, is naturally elevated to her be­ginning, which is God and is more freely united to him. But the mynde that is partly pur­ged of it, although she tend to her beginning, and be in some sorre illustrated from above by the brightnesse of eternall light: yet notwithstanding because all impediment is not taken away she cannot have free passage nor flowe to, nor be swallowed up in the bot­temlesse depth of eternall [Page 204]light: that is shee cannot freely be united to God her princi­pall and greatest good. Further­more although God out of his bounty be pleased sometimes to lift up some to his love by a more easy way without many temptations, yet let noe man, although enriched with spiri­tuall gifts easily beleeve, that he hath attayned to the per­fect resignation of himselfe, unlesse in very deed he have endured many moste grevious adversities, and have keept a perfect quietnesse and li­berty of mynde in the tolera­tion of them. There are many that as long as they feele noe checkes, noe injuries, noe [Page 205]losses, noe temptations, noe troubles, doe seeme devout, patient, and humble. But assoo­ne as they are but once tou­ched by them, they proudly shew by murmuring, indigna­tion, and impatience howe litt­le they are mortified. Where­fore before any one can be thought to have attayned to the true abnegation of him­selfe, he must necessarily en­dure many adversityes with a voluntary and quiet mynde: And as for him that hath been exactly tryed, by God in af­flictions, let him thinke that he hath not yet gone soe farre, as that he is able to endure them. For if he had, without [Page 206]doubt he should not want oc­casions of diverse tribulations. For God rejoyceth to adorne the soule more secretly and perfectly joyned to him, with many fold afflictions, as it were with soe many pretious pear­les, and soe to bring it to the true similitude of JESUS-CHRIST. He therefore that rejecting propriety in all things conformeth his will to the di­vine will and ordination, being equally prepared to undergoe any adversity, confusion, sub­traction of internall sweetnes­se for Gods sake, as he would the affluence of any prosperi­ty, honour, and devotion: he I say, that is come to that passe, [Page 107]that he can endure all tempta­tion and tribulation with a cer­taine internall sweetnesse and joy, this man hath founde a pretious pearle, this man hath attayned to the highest degree of perfection: he is every whe­re, and in all occasions united to God, and most sweerly po­wreth his soule to him. He doth purely quietly, simply, joyfully, and sweetly walke all the day long in the light of our Lords countenance, and can adhere to highest contempla­tion when he pleaseth, with the same facility that he doth live and breath. What in this vaile of misery he may receave from heaven and to what God [Page 208]will be pleased familiarly to admitt him, it lyeth not in our power to speake, for in­deed they are things unspea­kable. Let him that is such glorifi God, and confesse, that JESUS-CHRIST hath rai­sed up the needy from the earth, and lifted up the poore out of the dung, sithence that of an impure man here on earth he hath made an angell like to God.

CHAPTER XII. A Monke or Nune by vertue of their profession is bounde to tend, to perfection.

YOu will peradventure say: O this perfection is too much above me: therefore will I not streich my selfe, nor endeavour to apprehend it, least I should labour in vai­ne. But my answere, is that if you doe according to your words, you are no Monke: For although you are not boun­de to attaine to perfection, yet are you bounde asmuch as in you lyeth, to endeavour to [Page 210]attaine to it. Flatter your sel­fe howe you will: perswade your selfe as you will: faine and pretende what excuses you will, you are bounde with might and mayne to tend to perfection. It is even soe, and noe otherwise. If hitherto you have been ignorant of it hen­ceforth ignorance cannot ex­cuse you, you have bound and obliged your selfe, and soe you shall remaine.

But you will say, I cannot attaine to such perfection: what meane you by this di­strust. Are you ignorant that the divine power can doe mo-more, then humane infirmity can imagine. I confesse that of [Page 211]yourselfe you are not able to a­baine it, but God is able to bring you. Beleeve God, hope in God, not in your selfe. Trust in the grace and helpe of God, not in your owne endeavours. Neverthelesse that God may be with you, be not you wanting, to your selfe by sloath. Doe what lyeth in your power, putt forth your hands, stretch out your armes, confirme your mynde to the destruction of vice, to the perfect abnegation of your selfe, recollect your heart, produce affection ele­vate your mynde to the con­templation of those things, that are eternall and accusto­me your selfe every where to [Page 212]attend the presence of God. Which that you may the bet­ter performe, propose to your selfe according to the above demonstrated example every day some parte of our Lords passion, and carefully caste your internall eye sight upon the same: in the meane time sweetly conversing with JE­SUS, or with your soule, con­cerning him. Alwayes I say, busi your cogitations (asmuch as commodiously you may) in some divine matter. Lett this be your scope, let this be the determination of your mynde: labour for this without rest with a quiet and pleasing care. And although every moment [Page 213](as I may say) you be distrac­ted, and stray from your in­tention, be not dejected, let not that breed pusillanimitie, but be constant, and ever re­turne to what you eare resol­ved. By your infatigable la­bour you shall overcome all trouble of difficultie. Nay in a little while you will finde this labour more easi and pleasant: and being regenerate to the newnesse of an unknowen light, you will begin to tast of the delights laid up for the saints, you will not be the sa­me that you were before: but being happily changed into another man, and clothed with angelicall grace, you will [Page 214]highly esteeme what before you dispised, and dispise what before you highly esteemed: That which before did evilly please you, will nowe displea­se you: what before evilly dis­pleased you, will nowe please you: you will promptly and willingly endure what before seemed insufferable. O plea­sant metamorphosis! O chan­ge proceeding from the right hand of the moste high. At last this laudable custome growing into a second nature, and the divine love more perfectly possessing you within you will not feele any labour: and as before without labour you did thinke on filthy, impure, absurd, [Page 215]foolish, vaine and dreame like things: soe nowe you will wit­hout labour adhere to God, and divine things. For of ne­cessity the mynde must dayly reflect on that, which the har­te dearly loveth. Woe, woe unto perverse, tepid and negli­gent Monkes, Monkes in na­me, but not in life: who con­temning the reverence of their state, and violating their vo­wes, are neyther ashamed, nor feare to wallowe in the dirt, and dung of sloath vanity, and passions. But blessed yea ten times treple blessed are those Monkes and Religious men, who albeit they are of little estimation and imperfect, [Page 216]doe notwithstanding with might and mayne aspire and tend to perfection: For they are certainly the adopted son­nes of God: whome our pious Saviour JESUS doth comfort saying: feare not little flocke: for it hath pleased your father to give you a kingdome: they may securely expect death, al­though they are yet but in the beginning of their holy purpo­se: because it shall be pretious in the sight of our Lord secure­ly may they expect death, and yet not death but the sleepe of peace, the period of death and the passage from death to life. What say you, Brother: are you yet in doubt: doe you yet [Page 217]stagger. Take courage I pray you, and being emboldned through soe great a confidence in our Lords goodnesse going on the way of salvation wit­hout feare, preparing your soule against temptations. Let noe manner of difficulty af­fright you. In all adversity, which you happen to endure either at home or abroade, say gratefully the will of our lord be done. Although you muste sweat much and long, and wrestle strongly before you can overcome, and sup­plant the owld man. Let not that trouble you, consider not the labour: but the fruite of the labour. Beleeve me, the su­pernall [Page 218]piety will be present at your labours, and will still most lovingly succour you: will comfort you when you feare, will confirme you when you stagger, will defend you being assayled, will uphold you when you slip, will com­fort you in your sorrowe, and will nowe and then infuse the moste pretious ointment of in­ternall sweetnesse into you. If you persever, the force of temptations must of necessity yeild to the force of divine lo­ve: temptions and tribulations will noe more be grevious and bitter to you, but light and sweet: then shall you see all good and shall finde a Paradi­se [Page 219]even in this life: This I say will come to passe, if you per­sever, and be not of the num­ber of them, that begin well, but being deluded by the allu­rements of satan, or wearied with the troubles of tempta­tions and labours, doe after­wards lightly leave their good purposes: They will not be pressed with the weight of tri­bulation And therefore in ti­me of affliction are scandalized in our Lord, and going backe from him doe as it were seeme to say: This saying is hard and who can beare it.

They build not on the firme rocke, but on the unstable sand: and therefore their buldings [Page 220]doe easily fall downe at eve­ry puffe of winde, and pushes of the flouds. And would to God they would consider their ruines: and not soe give over: but make haste to renew the decayed building, noe mo­re laying their foundation u­pon the sands, but committing them to the firmity of the roc­ke: Deare brother, if (which God forbid) your building be fallen: renew your overthro­wne worke: and build againe more happily then you did be­fore. If it fall twice, or ten, or an hundred, yea a thousand times, or more repaire it as of­ten as it falleth: never dispaire of Gods mercy: For the innu­merable [Page 221]multitude of horrible and hideous sinnes doth not make God soe implacably an­gry with us, as desperation alone. For he that despayreth of forgivenesse denyeth the mercy and omnipotency of God, and blasphemeth against the holy Ghost. We cannot be soe ready to sinne, as our lord is to pardon, if we abuse not his patience: that is, if we will truly, and in time doe penan­ce: Thus ought every Chri­stian to thinke. But least pro­lixity make my treatise displea­sing, I thinke it best for me to with drawe my pen, and to stop the course of my begun navigation. In the meane time [Page 222]while wee take downe our say­les, it will not be amisse breifly to touch what you ought to doe at every dayes end.

Every day therefore before you goe to bed, seriously, but without inordinate dissipation of mynde, consider in what you have that day offended: and aske pardon of our most mercyfull God, purposing thenceforth to live better, and more carefully to avoide all vice. Then pray that he will vouchsafe to keepe you that night from all pollution both of body and mynde, commen­ding to him, and to his sacred Mother, and your holy Angell your soule and body to be [Page 223]guarded and kept. Being gone to bed, arme your selfe with the signe of our Lords Crosse: and having honestly and chast­ly composed your body, sigh to your beloved, thinking u­pon somme good thing, untill sleepe gently sease on you. Which if it bee over deepe and rather a burthen then a refre­shing to your body: if likewise by frayle illusions it procure or produce any thing savou­ring of dishonesty, be not over much greived theareat: but humbly sigh before our Lord: and with humble prayers be­seech him to grant you sobrie­ty of diet and sences, to which sobriety of sleepe and purity of [Page 224]body are commonly compa­nions. This is all deare brother, that I have to send you. You desired a Mirrour or looking glasse: see whether you have receaved one: If I have any way satisfied your desire, God be praysed: if not, howe soe­ver God be praised I have gi­ven, what our Lord hath given me But be they better or wor­se, I desire you sometimes to reade them over. Fare you well and pray for me.