VVHoſoever lyes in a hard, and painfull bed, makes little difficulty to riſe at any time, onely they ſeek excuſes and delayes, who lye lazing in their ſofteſt downe, and are unwilling to forgoe their warmer neſts. Is thy life irk • ome to thee? I truſt then thou wilt not be ſorry to paſſe to a better one; haſt thou thy hearts content? in my opinion then it is high time for thee to cloſe up thy dayes, before thy proſperity overwhelme thee (as it hath many more) with ſome diſaſterous ruine at the laſt: Wherefore (ſayes Tertullian) we are no wayes to fear that which ſecureth us from all other feares. God delivers that man from a long torment, to whom he allowes but a ſhort terme of life. Which con •• deration made the holy Martyr Saint Cyprian, when the Emperour Valerian pronounced this ſentence a • ainſt him: We command that Thracius Cyprian bee executed by the ſword; to lift up his hands and eyes to heaven, and cheerefully anſwer, God be ever prayſed, Lib. de bono mortis. who vouchſafeth to deliver me from the fetters of this body of mine. St. Amb • oſe could not but wonder at ſome, who when they were to die, would rather expect till they were thruſt out by force, than leave their bodyes priſon willingly; and what is there in this world & life, ſayes he, but ſtrife, with anger, luſt, and gluttony, and the like? Of the ſame opinion was St. Chryſoſtome, when he demands:In c. 1. ad Coloſ. O man, what canſt thou ſay? Thou art invited to a Kingdome, to the Kingdome of the ſonne of God, and art thou ſo ſtupid to ſtand ſhrugging at it like a lazy ſluggard, and doubt whether thou ſhouldſt accept of it or no? If thou wert dayly to expoſe thy ſelfe for ſuch a fortune to a thouſand deaths, oughteſt thou not to encounter with them all? And whileſt there is nothi g, thou wouldſt not attempt to gaine ſome petty Princedome on the earth, wilt thou n • t outdare a thouſand ſwords, wilt thou not leap into the fi • e, to become a joynt-inheritor with the onely Sonne of God? nay out of a too inordina • e love unto this body of thine, thou do'ſt even lament and weep • or to bee t • ken hence, and clingſt un • o the poore commodities of this preſent life; can it be that death ſhould appeare unto thee ſuch a • orrid thing? Without doubt th negligence, and pleaſure thou liveſt in is the cauſe thereof, for thoſe who live in miſery, deſire nothing more than to be freed from the thrall of living, and flye away to reſt. Me thinks we can be compared o nothing more fitly than to birds, ſluggiſh young ones, who by their good wills would never leave their neſts, and yet the longer they abide in them, the more faint and unweldy they become, and with good reaſon I compare this preſent life to ſuch a neſt, whoſe beſt materia • ls are ſtraw, and duſt, for ſhew • re your moſt magnificent Pallaces, and even thoſe Courts of Princes which ſhine the brighteſt with burniſht gold, and precious ſtones, and I will account them nothing ſuperiour to the ſwallowes neſt, ſ • nce at the firſt approach of winter you ſhall behold them all come dropping downe.

Even ſo (S. C • ryſome thou golden Orator) even ſo it is, at laſt they muſt all fal indeed, and we for company, and for the moſt part they are the ſafeſt who get the ſooneſt downe. In w • ich regard the wiſe man congratulates with the Iuſt, that he was raviſhed away before malice had infected his underſtanding, and the Angels ſo ſharply reprehended him who ſhewed ſuch unwillingneſſe to dye: You are afeard to ſuffer (ſayd he) and will not depart, what ſhall I do with you? He hath no faith of the future reſurrection, who makes no ſpeed to a better life. If our houſe threatned us with ruine, ſhould wee not all avoyd it preſently? if our Ship in the midſt of a ſtormy Sea, ſhould be in danger of making wrack, would not our longing wiſhes be all ſet on land? In this world we heare the fearefull cracks of ruines every where, the dreadfull roring of Stormes and tempeſts on every ſide, and why then doe we not ſeek to make for land? Why doe we not retire our ſelves unto our heavenly Father for ſecuri • y, where all our deare friends expect our comming, ſecure of their own ſafety, ſolicitous of ours? O happy dead who die in our Lord, in that they reſt in his boſome as if they dyed, and in that delightfull ſl • mber do dye no otherwiſe, than if they went to reſt. So St. Steven in the midſt of ſuch a violent ſhower of Stones,Acts 7. of ſuch a noiſe and murmur of thoſe that ſtoned him, did notwithſtanding fall aſleep in our Lord, as the Scripture teſtifieth.Iohn 11. The like our Saviour himſelfe affirming of Lazarus, whom he loved ſo well, Lazarus amicus noſter dormit; Deut. 34, So Moſes the holy ſervant of Almighty God at his appointment dyed, and even as a tend • r mother kiſſes her child thats ſleeping in her armes, and with deare imbraces laies him downe to reſt, ſo there wants not ſome who affirme that paſſage of Scripture to beare ſuch a ſence as if God ſhould have taken Lazarus, like a ſleeping infant in his arm • s and in midſt of his tender kiſſes, and imbracements, layd him downe in Abrahams boſome,Pſal. 126. as in a bed to reſt: for ſo, cum d • derit dilectis ſuis ſomnum, ecce haereditas Domini; when hee hath layd his beloved to ſleep, beh • ld (hee beſtowes on him) his inheritance; thrice happy are ſuch dead as theſe,Apoc. 4. of whom the Spirit can ſay, from henceforth now they reſt from their labours, for their works follow them, no otherwiſe than ſervants doe their Lords, children their Parents, Noble men their Princes, & attend upon them even to the very throne of God. They uſher and conduct them to Gods ſupremeſt Court, where never any attendants under their ranke and dignity are admitted in; whoſoever then is predeſtinated to everlaſting life, will prayſe death as the moſt excellent invention, which nature hath, as knowing that they can arive unto it by no other way. And ſuch a one who is alwayes prepared to dye, will keep himſelf in appetite by ſuch like Diſcourſes as theſe.

WHy ſhould I feare to dye; 'tis but to goe the way which my Fathers went before, nay more, the common beaten road of every thing: What priviledge is th s, which I alone of all others doe pretend unto, when I doe ſhunne to dye? Had I not better doe that willingly, which I muſt doe whether I will or no? ſince the performance is light of that which is willingly undertaken, and neceſſity gives place, where our will becomes a party. Rather why ſhould I not imbrace that willingly, by benefit of which I ſhall ceaſe to be mortall, which I have unwillingly beene ſo long, I received my body upon no other condition, than to reſtore it backe againe, and am to reſtore it for no other end than to reſume it againe to my more commodity. I have been detained hitherto from beholding of my God, onely by the tardineſſe of my death, which is but the fore-runner of that better life, and that day which ſo many ſtand in feare of, as the laſt of all their life, is but the birthday of an eternall one; and I take it no wayes heavily, that the Sunne ſets upon me here, ſince I expect the dawning of a light againe, which never ſhall be obſcured by any gloomy night. O how gladly ſhall I embrace that d • y, which ſhall aſſigne me my habitation, and replant mee in Paradiſe, delivered from hence, and looſned from thoſe bonds which detain'd me here ſo long? I am not ignorant that I ſtand guilty, and convicted of many crimes, but thy mercy, O my God, is an Ocean, and a boundleſſe ſea: into which death ſhall bee no readier to precipitate me off of this turfe of earth, whereon I ſtand, than I to commit my ſelf unto the vaſt boſome of ſo deare a ſea, as ſhall ſet a period to all the miſeries of my mortall life. O God, that death would mend its pace; it can never come ſo ſuddenly, ſo at unawares, as not to finde mee ready, and deſirous to goe to reſt; I am not ſuch an enemy of repoſe to bee ſor • y when a holy day comes, which may bring with it a ceſſation from • roubles and afflictions, but will rather rejoyce for ſo good an opportunity, of ſhutting up this wretched ſhop of life, fraught with ſo many and innumerable miſeries, to ſhake off the heavy yoak of death, and fortune, and begin with a day which ſhall never end in night. O what happy tidings will it be to heare, that my King calls for mee out of this priſon where I am, and ranks me in a ſtate of higher dignity. Open but the cage unto a bird, and there will be no need to chaſe it out, but it will flye out of its owne accord: Even ſo I will willingly iſſue forth into thoſe azure plaines, as one who long ſince have beene over cloyed with life. Touching the place, or hour of my death, I am nothing ſolicitous, let him who made mee diſpoſe of me as hee ple • ſe, his wil ſhall be both the rule of life and death to me, neither can I expect any thing of him, who is all goodneſse, but the beſt. And is it not in the potters hands, aſwell to frame the veſsell on his act ye wheele, as to new mould it, if it ſeem good unto him? I am a veſſell of that great potters making, and what reaſon have I to complaine, if he who made me pleaſe to unmake me? or to ſpeak more properly, to make me new again, and render mee happy, who was miſerable before? Is hee pleaſed to have me live? then I will live as long as it pleaſes him: Is he ple • ſed that I ſhould dye? I I will not deſire to have my death reſpited a moments ſp • ce; both my beginning and ending are wholly depending on his holy will. Wherefore I will not onely embrace willingly, but alſo gladly whatſoever he ſhall ordain. Mihi vivere Chriſtus eſt. Phil. 1. & mori lucrum; for unto mee to live is Chriſt; to dye is gaine. I love thee, O my moſt amiable God, & deſire yet to love thee more ardently: O that my heart might wholly melt away in the flame of ſuch a love, ſince nothing can make me happy beſide thy ſelfe. And when and where, O my God, ſhall I take my flight hence unto thee? I will follow thee, O moſt loving father, and at neerer diſtance thou ſhalt call mee, the more readily I will obey thy call.

THis feeling he hath of death, who deſires to bee tranſpor • ed unto heaven, and live with Chriſt, neither is this ſuch an uncouth thing, for as a Phyſitian (ſayes Theoph • lact) when hee pe •• eives his patient to have an averſion from the food and phyſick which he doth preſcribe, doth firſt take an aſſay of them himſelfe, to incourage his patient to an appetite; ſo Chriſt vouchſafed to taſte firſt of death himſelfe, that Chriſtians might have no horrour of dying after him. And why then dear Chriſtian, tho thou be of nature never ſo timorous at the apprehenſion of death, wilt thou not put on ſuch a reſolution, as that which I have ſet before thine eyes, and with an aſsured and undaunted mind, burſt forth into theſe ex • lamations;Pſal. 116. Caelicem ſalutarem accipiam, & nomen Domini invocabo. J will receive the cup of ſalvation, and call upon the name of the Lord. I cannot deny but it is a bitter one, yet it is no other than that which my Saviour drunk of unto my health, upon his bloody Croſse, and le •• to me to pledge. It is no other than that fatal cup of death, which Chriſt dranke out of his owne free election, and all others muſt drink of inevitable neceſſity, and why then ſhould I alone refuſe it? All whoſe lives have a beginning muſt likewiſe have an end, but to begin a freſh a life againe which neve • ſhal have end. What a vaine feare then is this that ſtartles me? what a ſilly penſiveneſſe that tempts my conſtancy? Calicem, quem dedit mihi Pater, &c. and ſhall I not drink of the Chalice which my father hath preſented mee withall, which Chriſt himſelfe hath drunke of to me, and fild me out again; am I a mortall man, and ſhall I not learne to die? Alexander lying once dangerouſly ſick, ſome of his friends more ſolicitous than needed for his health, adviſed him to beware of Philip his Phyſitian, as one who had a deſigne to poyſon him. The King, the next time the Phyſitian viſited him, with a potion he had prepared to adminiſter unto him, did no more but receive the potion in one hand, and reach him out in the other the letter to read, containing the advice which his friend had given him, and whilſt he prepared himſelf, to drinke it off, hee ſtedfaſtly regarded the Phyſitians face, to note whether in the reading thereof he might diſcover any ſignes of guiltineſſe, but perceiving the innocencie of the man, from the conſtancy of his countenance, without any more delay he drunke it up. In this manner receiving that cuppe which Chriſt my onely Phyſitian and Saviour hath ordeyned, and preſented me withall, to caſt me into a profound, and quiet ſleep, I will faſten my eyes upon my Phyſitian whilſt I drinke it off; I will ſtedfaſtly regard the countenance of my crucified Lord, wherein I ſhall read written in lively Characters the countenance of that infin • te love he beares me, and with a conſtant and unappaled mind will I drinke it up: which will conferre ſo much the more of health, the more affectionately I ſhall welcome it. And thus (deare Chriſtian) death when it arrives, will eaſily be overcome, if before it arrives, we arme our ſelves againſt the feare of it, by often revolving it in our memories.

Luke 14. ET ceperunt omnes ſimul excuſare: and they began all to excuſe themſelves, ſaith the Goſpell. This had bought a farm, this a yoke of Oxen, that other was newly married, ſo that none is at leaſure to repaire to Chriſt: but examine theſe excuſes, and for all their faire gloſſe, you will find them meere ſenceleſſe ones, for what were it for one of us, for a ſhort houres ſpace to leave his c • res at his farme, his oxen in the ſtable, and his wife at home, and apply our ſelves to that which ſo neerely concerneth our ſalvation; If wee were requeſted to prune a vineyard, or to till the ground, we might with good reaſon chuſe rather to ſleep at home, than work abroad: But when we are invited to a banquet, to be gueſts of our Saviour Chriſt, where our food is to be no other than himſelfe, to excuſe our ſelves, and refuſe to goe, ſhewes a moſt ruſticall behaviour, and ſpeakes us either extreamly mad or impudent. We ſhould appeare right Adams off-ſpring, if we ſhund God Almighties ſight, when he were angry, but to avoyd him thus, when out of his great mercy he beholds us with ſo gracious an eye, when he calls, and lovingly invites us to his Table, ſo richly furniſhed with all celeſtial rarities, is the part of brute beaſts, and not of men. But to ſet off our excuſe with a fairer colour, we pretend nothing diſhoneſt, or leſſe becomming us, as theft, adultery, or the like, but excuſe our offence and negligence with as faire pretences as can be imagined. For what • arm • s there ſay you, in matrimony, and the ſolicitude of our domeſticall affaires, in buying cattell, purchaſing of land: and what good can there be in theſe, when once they avert us from the • overaignſt good of all, from our ſoules ſalvations? We are ſo to cheriſh our bodyes as our ſoules receive no detriment the while, ſo to purchaſe land, as not to deprive our ſelves of Heaven; when we are invited to this great ſupper, we ought preſently to goe, laying aſide the care of all other things, no thought of our farmes, our oxen, our wives, no ſolicitude of any buſineſſe ought to interrupt us then, when we entertaine diſcourſe, at this royall banquet with the King of Angels, but alſo many many times we become ſo impudent as not to be aſhamed to anſwer flatly, non poſſum venire, I cannot come, and what is that but to ſay, I will not come; Oh deare Chriſtians, is this the way think you, to obtaine his favour? miſerable as we are, and to none more injurious than to our ſelves, what is this but to flye fron the fire when we freeze for cold, to abuſe our Phyſitian when we lye deſperately ſick, the more needing his helpe, the leſſe ſenſible we are of our owne infirmity, and to have the ſweet and delicious Manna in loathing, whilſt we paſſionately long after Garlick and Onions. God formerly ſignified unto the people of Iſrael by Moſes, that they ſhould gather Manna every day, except the Sabboth, on which they were appoynted to take their reſt. This holy Sacrament is our Manna by infinite degrees more excellent then theirs which wee may take our fill of during our tearme of life, till the Sabboth of death invite us to our reſt. But what doe we the while but imitate our firſt parent, for as he (ſayes Gerſon) not eating of the tree of life whilſt hee might, was afterwards juſtly puniſhed in being debarred to eate of it, when he deſired it; So we behave our ſelves ſo faſtidiouſly, as we will not approach unto this holy refection, whilſt we may, but whilſt we gladly accept of the leaſt invitation to anothers bo • rd, we never come to this of our Saviour, but very rarely and much againſt our wills. We are negligent in nothing ſo much as in the point of our ſalvation, in this we are onely careleſſe, in other things we are vigilant enough. For this reſpect God in theſe words ſends us to ſchoole unto the Ant, Vade ad formicam ô piger, Prov. 6. & diſce ſupientiam. Goe O thou ſluggard unto the Ant, and learne wiſedome of her. This little creature can tell onely by inſtinct of nature, that winter is no fit ſeaſon to make proviſion in, and therefore it provides its ſelfe of food in the ſummer, which it hoords up till then, how far more diligent ought we to be than they, ſince our Saviour commending unto us this food of immortality, doth affirme that, Si quis man ducaverit ex hoc pane, vivet in aeternum. If any ſhall eate of this bread, hee ſhall live eternally. Wherefore thoſe who are predeſtinated to this eternall life, never ceaſe to make proviſion of this vitall food, ag • inſt the winter of enſuing death, and this was his intent who bequeathed this Sacrament unto us, not to bee adored, but to nouriſh us, and as we maintaine our bodies health, by duely receiving of our corporall food, who otherwiſe by that naturall heat which is predominant in us ſhould be conſumed away, ſo likewiſe the ſoule by repairing often to this f od is conſerved in life, which otherwiſe would be deſtroyed by the impu • e fire of his concupiſcence▪ Hence it is that Saint In • ocentius ſo carefully admoniſhes us, to take heed leaſt by deferring too long the receaving of this holy Sacrament, wee might incurre t e danger of a ſpiritual death And S. Hilarion to the ſame effect, it is to be fear'd (ſayes he) leaſt thoſe who farre abſent themſelves from the body of Chriſt, be likewiſe far eſtranged from their ſalvation; For whoſoever abſtaines from ſinning, ceaſeth not to communicate, but this is that which we deſire, this is but our common impediment, we rather chuſe to abſtaine from holy communion, then from ſinne, and will ſooner leave of to frequent this table, then our lewd behaviour. Even this way which of all others our Saviour invented as the moſt ſweet & efficacious, we cannot be brought to correct our manners, and amend our lives. We believed the lying Serpent affirming to us, we ſhould become like to God, and yet hardly credit our Sav our the truth it ſelfe, who aſſures us that by eating of this food, we ſhall be changed into him, Qui manducat meam carnem & bibit meum ſanguinem, Iohn. 6. in me manet, & ego in eo, Our Saviour Chriſt appoynts us to receive this Sacrament in memory of his death, and who can doubt but he commends withall the often frequenting it, yet we who on the one ſide cannot but approve his ordination as moſt juſt, on the other tranſgreſſe it by our tardy receiving it. All the holy fathers commend moſt earneſtly unto us the frequent uſe of this holy myſtery, and wee attribute much unto their counſel and authoritie, but more unto our owne vitious inclinations; wee have many Saint-like and holy men for guides, we ſee the lights of their good examples, but will not follow them.

IF as often as one received the bleſſed Sacrament he ſhould improve by ſome great ſumme of money his temporall eſtate, there were no need to perſwade any to frequent it oft, none but would bee ſenſible enough of ſuch golden reaſons, nay it would be rather requiſite to take ſome order to repreſſe the multitude of communicants, than to invent motives to incite them for to come. Miſerable blindneſſe! wee ſee gold, and are taken with it, and we deſpiſe the hidden treaſures of the Euchari •• onely becauſe we doe not conſider them. And what is all the gold in the world, but a little duſt compared to this peereleſſe Iewell, which no living crea ure can value to its worth? This ſacred Euchariſt protecteth us f • om committing deadly ſinnes, it enervates the vitious propenſions of th • mind, enlightens our underſtanding, excitates our will, ſereneth our conſcience, armes us againſt the aſſaults of the enemy, enables us to withſtand adverſity, defends us from falling in proſperity, and carefully directs not to fail in going right. This holy Sacrament gives us a pledge of future glory, and withall begets in us a contempt of death, and a deſire of Heaven, the moderation of our paſſions, a horror of ſinne, a love of vertue, an entire victory over our ſelves, and perſeverance in good. But you will ſay, perhaps my minde is ſo aride, vaine, 'tepid, and defiled, as I even tremble to repaire unto it. This excuſation is either evill, or none at all, th • more of theſe imperfections thou diſcovereſt in thy ſelfe, the more nec • ſſary • t is thou ſhouldſt frequent this holy Sacrament. Is thy mind polluted? make haſte then unto this Sacrament, which is the very fountaine of purity. Art thou ill diſpoſed? it is a ſoveraigne remedy, an approved antidote againſt all the diſeaſes of the mind. Art thou hungry? behold the bread of Angels. Art thou benumbed with cold? make ſpeed unto it, it is an ardent fire. Doe thine enemies moleſt thee? take courage, this Arſenall will furniſh thee with all ſorts of weapons to defend thy ſelfe. Art thou ſorrowfull and afflicted? this is that wine which cheeres the hearts of men. Doſt thou ſeek often dainties? they are no where to bee found but here in this banquet, the repaſt of Kings. Doſt thou long to bee in heaven? here thy charges are defraid, here thou wilt be furni • hed with farre better proviſion fo • thy journey than Elias wa • , travelling towards Mount Horeb: If the very touch of our Saviours garment could ſtop a bloudy fluxe, what diſeaſe is there which the touch of his ſacred body cannot cure? But I am unworthy you will reply again, who approach too often to this ſacred Communion, which I can never receive with reverence enough. D • are Chriſtians for his bleſſed ſake, let us not entitle our want of reverence to our ſlothfulneſſe: believe St. Thomas that Angelicall Doct • r, melias eſt ex amore accedere quam ex timore abſtinere. It is better to repaire to it out of love, than to abſtaine for feare: And Saint Ambroſe interpreting th • ſe words of our Saviour, panem noſtrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, of the bleſſed Sacrament; If it be our dayly bread (ſayes he) why is it a yeare before you recei • e it? rather why doe you not rec • ive that dayly, which dayly will prof • t you? live ſo as you may worthily receive it every day, for hee who is unworthy to receive it every day, wil not be worthy to receive it once a yea • e. And in another place, if our Saviours blood (ſayes he) as often as it is ſhed, is ſhed for the remiſſion of ſinnes, I ought alwa •• s to be receiving, that alwayes my ſinnes may be remitted me, and it behoves me who • ver ſinne, to be ever providing • e • of a remedy. Gennadius Marſilienſis ſayes,Lib. de dogm. Eccl. cap. 13. I neither praiſe nor diſpraiſe the cuſtome of communicating every d • y; but this I would adviſe and counſaile all to communicate every Sunday, alwayes provided that wee come with no determinate will of ſinning any more, which kinde of pr • paration is more eaſily preſcribed, than the riddance of our mind of all affection to any vitiouſneſſe, that is, never thereafter to offend God more; for certainly he ſhould ſhew himſelfe very ungratefull towards his Maker, who would not at leaſt have a will for his ſake never to ſtaine his conſcience with any ſin, for touching ſuch as theſe, the Maſter of the feaſt with good reaſon profeſſed, dico vobis quod nemo virorum illorum guſtabit coenam meam. I ſay unto you, that none of thoſe men ſhall taſte of my Supper. But alas, O Lord, are they not the ſelfe ſame men who refuſed to taſte of thy Supper, and doſt thou now decree it in puniſhment of their offence? Even ſo it is, that which they deſire is their owne torment, and what wickedneſſe they voluntarily embrace, is nothing elſe but their owne pun • ſhme • t Samaria being oppreſſed with the miſery of a grievous famine, the Prophet Elizius foretold that ſhortly they ſhould ſee the price of corne incredibly abated: whereupon one of the Nobles in deriding his Propheſie Si nubes pregnantiſsimae frumenti pluant, nunquid ideo ſa • ina tam vilis erit p etii: If the clouds, (ſaid hee) ſhould bee great with co • e and raine it downe upon us, yet it would never be ſold at ſo vile a price; to whom Elize • s anſwered: Thou ſhalt ſee it with thy owne eyes, but ſhalt not eate of it, and ſo it came to paſſe. This is right the puniſhment of many in theſe days, they ſee plenty of this heavenly bread but never taſte of it. They ſee men communicating in every Church they looke into, but Communicate not themſelves: They are bid Depart; becauſe they will goe whether the P • ieſt will or no. They are excluded f • om this holy Table, for no other reaſon, but becauſe they exclude themſelves.

AS for the Holy men to be deprived long of this bread of Life, they like true Sonnes of GOD interpret it as a ſigne of their Fathers high diſpleaſure, and indignation: farre they are from neglecting any occaſion of receiving it, for they are not ignorant with how great and Fatherly a providence Almighty GOD hath provided for every ſeverall Creature their proper food; Eagles prey on leſſer Fowle, the Whale devoures the leſser Fiſh, the Lyons other ſavage Beaſts, Horſes and more Domeſtick Cattell feed upon Oates and Hay. And for Man, bread growing on the Earth is ordained for Food of ſuch as have no higher ambition but to bee ſonnes of men; but for thoſe who aſpire to become ſonnes of God, this bread deſcending from heaven is their chiefeſt ſuſtenance; this celeſtiall bread, this bread of the Sonnes of God, this bread of Angels with an ardent deſire, with a humble affection, with a tender reverence they receive moſt frequently, and rather chuſe out of piety to incurre the note of preſumption by declaring themſelves Children, than of enemi • s, out of a too faulty baſhfulneſſe. During which banquet, if our bleſſed Saviour ſhould addreſſe his ſpeech in this manner to any of the number of predeſtinate: Conſider ſeriouſly what I have ſuffered for the love of thee, thou mayſt well count the thornes my head pierced, but canſt never number thoſe torments I have ſuſtained for t • ee in every part of me beſides; • y body was all goard with boudy whips and nailes; but how much my heart hath ſuffered is beyond expreſſion. It was little leſſe than a death, I ſuffered for thee even in the garden, when the anguiſh of my minde drew as much bloud from mee, as the Souldiers afterwards in my flagellation: And now conſider with t • y ſelfe, what mine enemies inflicted on me, when even my beſt friends ſpared me not; thou knoweſt upon how hard a bed I was content for thy ſake to render up my Ghoſt, and my love (that thou maiſt know what an ardent one it was) would reſolve on no death to dye for thee, but the moſt bitter and ignominious of all, when it finding none more bitter and ignominious than the Croſſe made choyſe of it. And thus behold how I have dyed for thee, and have been ſtill ready to dye for thee a thouſand times; Wherefore tell me, what wilt thou ſuffer for mee againe? if thou deſireſt that my love to thee ſhould be perpetu • ll, thou muſt love me againe, who have ſo loved thee. For my part, I have loved thee unto death, even unto the death of the Croſſe, it reſts that thou wilt declare, how farre thou wilt extend thy love for me againe. Who now all of that happy company will not preſently anſwer him, all bathed in affectionate teares, even unto the death, O my moſt loving Lo • d, even unto the Croſſe it ſelf, ſo it bee thy divine pleaſure my love ſhall extend it ſelfe: And who ſhall grant unto me that happineſſe to dye for thee, O Ieſus, my ſweeteſt Ieſus! or who am I, that I ſhould be thought worthy for to dye for thee! O what a love was this of thine my deareſt life, that thou wouldeſt ſuffer thus, that thou wouldeſt dye thus for me, without any the leaſt merit or deſert of mine; ſuch ſighes as theſe, ſuch moſt chaſte aſpirations uſe commonly to bee the table talke at this ſacred banquet, and thus a ſoule becomes intimately united unto Almighty God.

For which reaſon wee place this frequency of Communion (provided that our affections be ſincere at leaſt, though otherwiſe not ſo inflamed as wee could wiſh) among the principall ſignes of Predeſtination. But alas, there are but too too many Chriſtians yet, who whatſoever is delivered to them by way of Sermon, or of written books are ſo dead aſleep in the Lethargy of their deboyſht lives, as neither the examples of the more pious ſort, nor admonitions of holy Saints, can ſtirre them up to a more frequent uſe of this holy Sacrament.

O Chriſtians, what Rocks of Ice, what deadly cold is that which freezes up your hearts, that thus you avoyd the comfortable beames of this all-chee • ing Sun? Do you not perceive that this is nothing elſe than the meere ſtratagems of your enemy, who endevours all he can to extinguiſh wholly in us the fire of this divineſt love, to the end that being all ſtifly frozen with this pernicious cold of mind, we may live no otherwiſe then if we were wholly dead, periſh in the filth and ſordidneſſe of ſinne, and never arrive to the kingdom of the l • ving? but thoſe who love our Saviour Chriſt with conſtant affections, are delighted with nothing more than in often repairing to him: for as Caſſiodorus ſaith admirably well, Inaudita eſt ditectio quae amicum amat, & praeſentiam ejus non amat. It is ſuch an affection as was never heard of, that one ſhould love his friend, and not be delighted in his company.

STi • pon having loſt together with his Count ey, his wife and children, and • ſcaping himſelfe, the onely, but happy remainder of the publike ru • ne, was demanded of Demetrius whether he had l ſt all hee had or no? To whom he anſwered, he • ad loſt nothing at all; for Omnia mea mecum ſunt, I carry with me, ſaith he, all the goods I have: The like Bias (in the like miſchance,) affirmed of himſelfe, that he carried his ſubſtance not on his ſhoulders, but in his breaſt, not where mens eyes might ſee it, but where their minds may judge of it. This contempt of earthly things, which in Heathens was accounted the ſigne of a great ſpirit, in Chriſtians is an aſſured ſigne of Predeſtination to eternall life; and he is a valiant ſouldier indeed of Ieſus Chriſt, who after ſome mighty loſſe can ſay, Omnia mea mecum porto, I beare all my riches along with me; my God is all.

It is reported of St Francis of Aſs • ſum that with incredible delight he paſſed over whole nights together, in the onely conſideration, and with often repeating of theſe foure ſhort words, Deus meus & omnia, My God and all. The example of which admirable Saint we ought all to imitate, and to glorie with him in all our neceſſities, in ſaying, Deus meus & omnia. Let others ſeek after what other things they pleaſe, let them be taken and delighted with what elſe they will, I ſeek for God alone: God is onely my deſire, all my delight, O Deus meus & omnia. I freely reſigne to others all ſhare in honours & all my part in whatſoever pleaſures and delights; give me my God, and I ſhal have every thing. I ſurrender whole worlds to others, and envy them not their mountaines of gold, and precious ſtones; I care not for their exquiſite delights; my God is unto me in place of all. There is nothing ſo good, nothing ſo delicious or ſo fair which the chiefeſt and ſupremeſt good doth not ſurpaſſe both for good, faire, and delicious by infinite degrees; O Deus meus & omnia! Alas how many deſires do often inflame my breaſt? with what ſeverall fires, for the moſt part doe I burne, what a tide of various fancies doe carry my • eart away, inſomuch as like the frantique youth in the Goſpel,M ••• . 17. ſometimes I am dragged into the water, ſometimes into the fire, and what are all theſe things which I purſue with ſo much eagernes, but vaine, fading, and for the moſt part infamous, ſuch we never have any long aſſurance of, but either they ſoone dye unto their owne, or he muſt dye to them. O my God, my love, and my all, what is it that I can poſſibly deſire, whoſe want thou canſt not abundantly ſupply? O God art thou not all u • to m ? my drink, my food, my reſt, my joy, my pleaſure, the height of all my honour? O God, thou art all and more than all to me. For though I feed on thoſe viands which moſt take my appetite; refreſh me with that drink which beſt reliſhes my taſte; enjoy that pleaſure which moſt affects my mind; yet what is all this feeding, this refreſhing, this joy to me? Deus meus & omnia. Ah one refreſhing of thine, one enjoying of thee, is to be refreſhed indeed, is to enjoy the quinteſſence of every good. But in the meane while, labour oppreſſeth, griefe afflicteth, ca • es diſtract us, our riches diminiſh, our friends forſake us, our lives conſume away, and we become th • ſubj • ct of others inju • ies and ſcorne: Nothing of all this touches my feare (ſayes the holy Apoſtle) neither doe I mak • my life more precious than my ſelfe, Acts 20. ſo that I may conſummate my courſe, neither can all theſe, though they altogether ruſh upon me, any wayes indammage me, if God that ſoveraigne good undertake but the defence of me, Deus meus & omnia. Thou art unto me, O my good God, O goodneſſ • it ſelfe, reſt in my labours, pleaſure in my griefe, ſecurity in my cares, and the onely true riches in my poverty. Thou art my ſtrong Bulwark againſt all the furious aſſaults of men, thou art my refuge whatſoever evill oppreſſes me, and finally thou art all unto me whatſoever I can wiſh for, or deſire. All aboundance which is not God, I will account but as meere beggary. Wherefore then doe we ſeek to • uench our thirſt with theſe • uddy ſtreams, when we have ſo Cryſtall a fountain head as this, where we may drink our fills? In having God we have all whatſoev • r we can deſire. If poverty afflict any one, if fortune frowne upon h • m, as his joy may be leſſe, ſo certainly wi l be his griefe; when fortune can challenge nothing of him as its own, nor death bereave him of any thing that is another mans.

NEither doth this poore man yeeld to him in felicity, who being rich in his poſſeſſions, is yet contented with nothing, that he hath, ſince he keeps his riches in his Coffers not in his heart, and would never pine away for ſorrow ſhould he loſe it all, for, Sine dolore amittitur quicquid ſine amore poſsidetur, quae verò ardenter diligimus babita, gravitèr ſuſpiramus ablata, we loſe that without grief (ſaith St. Gregory) which without affection we enjoyed, and • nely ſ • gh grievouſly to depart with that which wee loved tenderly whilſt we were poſſ • ſſed of. But that good which can onely render others ſo, none c • n be poſſeſt or bereaved of againſt his will: Neither is any thing to bee acc • unted good of which we may ever be deprived of. Goe then Satan and counterfeit thy ſelfe a meſſenger, the family of moſt patient Job is not ſo wholly exting • iſhed yet, as there remaine none of that lineage who can renounce all they have. Run therefore and cry as loud as rhou wilt, tell ſuch an one, you have loſt all you had, you are wholly impoveriſhed; heare what an anſwer he will give, Niſi ego illam, fortaſsis illa me perdidiſset. If I had not loſt it, perhaps it would have proved the loſſe of me; I am but ſo much the lighter to goe on my way towards heaven. God in freeing me from a deere, but perillous burthen, hath beſt provided for my ſecurity, wherefore I will not account that my loſſe which God intended for a benefit. An • why ſhould I to no end and in vaine afflict my ſelfe for it? I knew when I poſseſsed it I muſt forgoe it once, and now I am the more mine owne, when I can ſay that is mine owne no more. Doſt thou heare this O Chriſtian? and thou too, doſt thou heare this, O thou helliſh fiend? This diſcourſe, this feelin • have they of their riches who are predeſtinated to everlaſting life; neither can they ever loſe ſo much, as not to retain this liberty to ſay; It is no loſse we ſuſtain, but onely a gainful kind of trade, where for a little expence we purchaſe our ſelves u • va • uable wealth, we buy heave • for a ſmall portion of ground we tread on.

IT is not the wont of the eternall providence to nouriſh a vertuous perſon in delights, but it tryes hardens and apts him to its peculiar ends: Yet ſo, as in the meane while it aſſures him, Cum tranſieris per aquas tecum ero: When thou ſhalt paſſe by waters I will be with thee, and the flouds ſhall not overwhelme thee; when thou walkeſt in fire thou ſhalt not burne, neither ſhall the flames ſcorch thee; for ſo God uſes to drench us both in water and fire, but ſuffers us neither to be bu • nt nor ſwallowed up, he makes triall of us both in freezing cold, and glowing heat, but for thoſe whom he hath predeſtinated to everlaſting life, he neither permits the fire to conſume them, nor waters drowne them, for God is faithful (ſaith the Apoſtle) who wil not ſuffer you to bee tempted above that which you are able, but will make your profit of temptation that you may be able to ſuſtaine.

Bloſius doth treat excellent well of this ſigne of predeſtination, where he affirmes that there is no more infallible ſigne of divine election, than when a man undergoes affliction or what elſe adverſity, not onely without repugnance, but with patience and due ſubmiſſion, ſince nothing, ſaith he, is more profitable for him than to ſuffer; And this is the ineſtimable jewell of that ring, with which God eſpouſes to himſelfe a pious ſoule; whoſe prerogative is ſo great as St. Chryſoſtome doth ſolemnly affirme. Nihil eſſe melius quam male pati propter Deum. That nothing is better than to ſuffer evill for Almighty God. For then the elect may wel be ſaid to drinke of the torrent in the way, Pſal. 109. for which their heads ſhall be exalted, afterwards even to heaven. Now they are preſſed downe and trodden under foot, that afterwards like palmes they they may riſe the higher for it: It is 〈◊〉 verity which God would have us throughly penetrate, that the good which wee aſpire to, is infinite, and of difficile acceſſe, a d therefore not to be atta •• ed to bu • by much p • ine and lab • ur, in conf • rmity to which t • at holy Ancho • i • e ſaid excellent well,Marcus. that God well knowing our • mbecillity • oth uſe to beſtow no remarkable favour upon any one whom he hath not firſt apted for the receiving of it by ſ • me or other • rud • nt calamity. So Moſes had no • oon • r forſaken the Court of Pharaoh by the e • preſs command of God himſelfe, but preſently both poverty, ignomi • y, and contempt, with the extreme danger • f his life, by the procurement of the King: And laſtly, his flight and baniſhme • t did all conſp • re to work his deſtruction. We m • y perceive ſaith St. Gregory, th • ſe whom God elects by their pious actions, and bitter ſufferings; whom likewiſe it may be gathered how rigorouſly our juſt Iudge will puniſh the reprobate at the latter day, when he is ſo ſevere now towards thoſe, wh • m hee affecteth moſt.

Wherefore thoſe Chiſtians doe much deceive themſelves; who imagine to goe whole (as it were) to heaven, without being well bruiſed before, for let them but take a generall view of of all, and they will find, that the richer men are in vertue, the more they are ſtored with tribulations, and that thoſe commonly who moſt abound in wealth, and are the greateſt favourites of fortune, are thoſe who moſt excell in wickedneſſe. Such beaſts as are deſigned for the ſhambles, we ſee are ſuffered freely to graſe in the beſt paſtures, whilſt others are tired out with toyle and labour; even ſo thoſe who are predeſtinated to heaven, and not ſuffered at liberty to diſport themſelves, but are alwayes with afflictions. Inſomuch as the ſame Bloſius truely affirmes from the authority of another holy perſon. Quemcunque Deus potioribus donis exornare ſublimiterque transformare decrevi • , eum non blandè & mol iter lavare ſe • totum in mare amaritudi • is i • mergere conſuevit. That when God once decrees to advance a man to any eminent degree (of perfection) and endow him with his rich • ſt favours, he uſes not only to dip him lightly in, but even to plunge him into a whole ſea of bitterneſſe.

THE Doctrine of Hippocrates and Galen is, to preſerve and cheriſh our ſelve • : to hate and abnegate our ſelves is the Doctrine of C • riſt. Inſomuch, as all thoſe who have ever attained to celeſtiall beatitude, may appropriate to themſelves that ſaying of Them • ſtocles, 1 Cor. 12. Perieramus niſi periiſſemus, we had periſhed, if wee had not periſhed. Many have beene preſerved by being loſt, and without doubt as many had b ene as unhappily loſt, if God by their happy loſse had not prevented it. And So Saint Paul, when others imagined him utterly to be loſt, began then firſt of all to think that he had found himſelfe, Placet mihi in infirmitatibus, &c. I am delighted (ſaith hee) in my infirmities, in contumelies, and neceſſities, in my diſtreſſes and perſecutions for Chriſt, ſeeing I am th • n (moſt) potent, when I am (moſt) infirme; and St Bernard as if he were tired with ſeeking out Almighty God, Circumire Domine poſſum coelum & terram, m •• re & aridam & nuſquam te inve • iam niſi i • Cruc • ; ibi dorm s, ibi paſcis, ibi cubas in meridie: I may circuit heaven and earth (ſaith he) O Lord, the ſea, and the dry land, and yet find thee no where but on the Croſſe; there thou ſleepeſt, there thou feedeſt, there thou repoſeſt thee at noone-day. Wherefore let us follow our Lord like dutifull ſervants, and avoyd eternall torments, by the compendious way of our ſhort ſufferance here. Athanaſius being condemned to baniſhment by Iulian the Apoſtata, and perceiving the Chriſtians of Alexandria to weep bitterly at his departure, bade them be of good comfort, for (ſaid he) this is but a little cloud which will bee blowne over preſently, and truely all that ſeems moſt terrible in this mortall life, is but as a hovering cloud, that will ſoone be diſſipated and c • anged into eternall ſerenity. The ancients had their Ap • lles ſo induſtriou • , as he never omitted day, wherein hee had not drawne ſome line; ſo in like manner, all Chriſtians who would live exemplarly, ought to d • ſir that no day might paſſe withou ſuch clouds • s theſe, wherein they might ſuffer ſomewhat for God Almighties ſake. The h avens appeared to holy Iob, not onely cloudy but even as ob • urate as • ro, and yet as Tert • llian ſayes) he reſiſted the enemy with a great variety of pati • nc as h of calamities aſſaulted him, in • omuch, as neither all his ſubſtance mad • a prey unto the enemy, nor all his children oppreſſed in one univerſall ruine, nor laſtly his bodies intollerable infirmities, could any wayes remove him from his patience: Oh! what a trophee did God erect of that man, to his enemies ſhame! what a glorious ſtandard of him did he advance! when at the report of each one of his heavy loſſes, he anſwered nothing • lſe, but God be thanked, a ſaying in which God rejoyced, and the devill was confounded utterly; a ſaying for which hee deſerved to have all doubly reſtored to him againe: therefore we may conclude that in ſuffering, we doe but (as it were) by great iournies make towards our heavenly Countri • .

AMong thoſe many wayes which lead to heaven, there is none more ſure, nor direct, than the Kings high way, the Croſſe, pe • multas tribulationes oportet nos intrariin regnum Dei. And e • en as the furnace trye the potters veſſells, ſo are iuſt men men proved by adverſity; but wee muſt know that ſtraw doth conſume in that furnace, where gold is purified: and whilſt the one is converted into aſhes, the other is burniſhed from its droſſe. This furnace is the world, in which the iuſt are gold, tribulation is the fi • e, and the Gold-ſmith Almighty God: now if gold had ſence and ſpeech without doubt it would ſay, let the workman diſpoſe of me as he pleaſe, I will endure whereſoever he places me, and let the ſtraw burne as much as it will, with intent wholly to conſume me, I ſhall but become the more refined for it, whilſt it ſhall vaniſh away in filthy ſmoake: wherefore marke well all you who are gold,Aug. in Pſ. 60. all you who are but ſtraw, in that very fire in which the ſtraw blazes away to nothing • , the gold becomes more bright: and ſo the wicked blaſphemes and accuſes God for ſending him the ſame afflictions, for which the patient man doth glorifie him the more, and they encreaſe in ſtrength in the midſt of adverſities, as fires waxe greater, t • e more the winde doth blow, and become more forcible by that, which threatens wholly to extinguiſh them.

REckon me up all the iuſt m • n from the beginning of the world, and you ſhall find none of them without this mark of • redeſtination, God proved them, Wiſ. 3. and found them worthy of him. • braham was variouſly afflicted and perplext: Ioſeph ſol • by his owne brethren: David moſt unnaturally perſecuted by h • s ſon: Eſaias ſawed aſunder in the midſt: Ezec • ias dra • ged upon craggy rocks, till his brains were da • ed out: Hieremiah ſtoned to deat: M • cheus executed by the ſword: Amos had a naile driven into his temples: Daniel was caſt unto the Lions: Naba th buried in a heap of ſtones: Elizeus derided, Job ſo ulcerous, as out of meere deteſtation, he was ſpit upon: Tobias deprived of his ſight: Innocent Suſanna, condemn'd to die, and hundreds more, whom I could reckon up. Beſides, of what adverſities had not S • . Paul h s part? As for the reſt of the Apoſtles, were they not ſcourged, crucified, and diverſly put to death? In fine, G • d ſpares none whom he affects, Quem enim diligit Dominus caſtigat; Heb. 1 • . ſtagellat autem omnem filium quem recipit: For God chaſtiſes whom hee loves; and ſcour • es every child whom he re • eives, ev • ry one, excepting none: • or all who • eſire to live piouſly in Ieſus Chriſt, 2 Tim. 3. ſhall ſuffer perſecution.

WHerefore let every ſer • ant of thine (O God) aſsure himſelfe, that if he ſhall have paſt in this life, this probat on, he ſhall bee crowned for it in the next; ſince it is thy manner of proceeding to ſend a calme and ſerenity after ſtormes; and aft • r teares and ſorrow to repleniſh a ſoule with conſolation. Wherefore Beatus homo qui corripitur á Deo, &c. Iob. 3. Job. 7. 2 Tim. 2. Bleſse • is t • at man whom God rebukes; for if wee ſuſteine any thing for him, we ſhall likewiſe reigne with him. Let none therefore feare this ſcourge of God, but rather feare this diſ-inheritance; by theſe ſtripes we are but prepared for our eternall inheritance, leaſt if otherwiſe we ſhould be too conver • ant with thoſe delights which occur e unto us here up n our way, we ſhould inſen •• bly forget thoſe we aſpire unto, at our celeſtiall home: If thou beeſt exempted from correction (ſaith Saint Auguſtine) thou art alſo excluded out of the number of the ſonnes of God: be not then • o inconſiderate or childiſh, e • er to utter ſuch complaints as • heſe: My father cheriſheth my • ro the • more than me, ſince • e permits him to do what he •• ſt; whilſt • f I but ſtirre without • is comm nd, I am chaſtiſed for it; but you ought rather to glory in your ſufferings, ſince it is an evident ſigne that he reſerves an his inherita • ce for you, whilſt thoſe whom he ſpares for the preſent, • e intends afterwards to puniſh eternally: Thoſe who runne on the way of this lifes proſperiti • s to their deſtruction, are but • ike men lead to priſon (ſaith St. Gr • gory) thorow ſome pleaſant fields.Iob 5. It hath be • ne obſerved, that the Roſe never ſavours more ſweetly than when it is planted neare to garlick, neither doth our heaven y Gardner want his fragrant Roſes here of thoſe whom he hath predeſtinated for Paradiſe, whom he ſo diſpoſes for the moſt part, as they are ſtill annoyed by the neighbourhood of others, with whom they have the gre • teſt antipathy, in that the more vertuous a man is, the more ſubiect he is to the ſcorne of the wicked, the more open he lie • unto adverſities; and thus theſe Roſes become the more odoriferous by the aire, which other ungratefull odours breath. It is likewiſe an obſervation that ſuch Roſes, as by art grow without prickles, have no ſcent at all; and even ſo the ſweet odour of vertue is loſt, ſpecially of patience, when we ſuffer nothing of adverſity. Aſſuredly none can know how much he profits but by affliction, neither doe any begin to underſtand themſelves, till they become acquainted with miſery; for as the ſtarres lye hid by day, and onely become tranſparant by night, ſo true vertue, which rarely appeares in proſperity, ſhines forth moſt brightly in adverſity. Neither is our Lord halfe ſo delighted with the glorious exployts of his ſervants, as when he ſees them ſuffer cheerefully, and confidently Tribulations, as the Eagle doth prove its young ones by expoſing them face unto the Sunne, as the Goldſmith by the touchſtone tryes the goodneſſe of the metall, ſo God Almighty experiences his ſervants in the furnace of affliction, whence with much more reaſon then the Romans wee may ſay, & facere & patifortia, hoc • hriſtianum eſt: to doe and ſuffer difficile things, doth moſt become Criſtians; and that way which our head doth lead us on, beſt befits us his members for to follow.

ANd who will account ſuch an one not diſeaſed in ſoule who will lend no eare to truth, whilſt he wholly beſtoweth them upon frivolous things; and whilſt vices by words in Churches are inveighed againſt, by his deeds, commits them frequently at home! who in lieu of pious exhortations, gives himſelfe wholly to drinking or gaming, or elſe in hunting or hawking trifles out his time; or laſtly, whilſt the Preacher is ho • ly in the Pulpit reprehending vice, lyes wallowing in his ſoft bed, all drowſie and languiſhing, and is not aſhamed, like a ſleepy Dor-mouſe to be taken a • noon day, yet buried in his featherie Sepulcher. It is a ſhamefull thing I know, to write this of. Chriſtians, but it is a greater ſhame for Chriſtians to be guilty of ſo great abuſe. Theſe are but ſignes of men in deſperate eſtate, and farre different from thoſe by which the Predeſtinate are knowne:Luke 5. Factum eſt autem cùm turbae irruerent in eum, ut audirent verbum Dei, &c. It came to paſſe, that the multitude preſſed upon him to heare the word of God.

Their holy hunger was ſo vehement, that neither the circuit of the Synagogues, nor Temple could containe them, no not the ſpatious walls of the City it ſelf, but they even thronged out into the open fields, as a place onely capable of ſo great a multitude, and whilſt they might ſatisfie their deſire of following and hearing him, not one, either man or woman, made any difficulty to go to any place how ſolitary or deſert ſoever it were, whereas wee doe oftentimes think much, even when we live nigheſt the Church, to ſtir a foot out of doores to heare that which is neceſſary for the reformation of our lives, ſo far wee are from running even halfe fa • iſhed after the Preacher unto the Sea ſide or Wilderneſſe, wee a e even come to that paſſe as there is nothing ſo tedious to us, as to heare the word of God: there is no want now a dayes of Preachers, but of auditors, whilſt they faine a hundred excuſes to abſent themſ • lves, and rather than fail of any, there want not thoſe who of pu • poſe abſtaine from frequenting Sermons, for feare their wretchleſ • e Conſcience ſhould perchance be touched: ſo fearefull guilty men are even toſt, and unto the judgement of themſelves, as they dare not appeare befo • e the tribunall of their owne conſci • nces.

The Prophet Ieremiah ſayes in his Lamentations, that the wayes of Syon made their moane, for that none repaired to her ſolemnities: and truely the way • s of the Church have no leſſe cauſe now a dayes to make the ſame complaint, ſince the wayes of gaming and Tavernes have all the frequency; there is no thronging to heare the preacher now, whereas if a prating Mountebanke but promiſe to make us ſome ridiculous ſport, if any publike f • ire or aſſembly invite our curioſity, we can preſently finde our legs, we beſtow our eyes and eares wholly upon it, and go flocking by heaps unto the ſpecta • le: whereas in the meane time, if thoſe who p • each the word of God, can bu • ſcape the being derided for their labours, they thinke it well, though for the reſt we make never ſo light account of what they ſay; an abuſe of which the holy Scripture doth grievouſly complaine. Yet we cannot deny, but there are many who give willing eare to Sermons, although the number of thoſe is but ſmall, who endevour to become the better for what they heare: they have eares, but they want hands, they heare what they ought to doe, but doe it not, and ſo receive no benefit by hearing it. Another ſort there are, who frequent ſermons onely to ſatisfie their pious curioſities, others onely to paſſe away the time: ſome out of cuſtome, others to become at leaſt the learneder, though not better for what they heare: ſome againe frequent the Church onely to bee ſeene and others to have the commodity of ſeeing certaine perſons there, of whom they could not ſo commodiouſly come to a ſight abroad. Some finally there are who goe onely to laugh, and carpe at that which they ſhall heare, others who reſort thither with intent to ſleep, or entertain ſome idle diſcourſe the while, or at moſt to afford the Preacher ſuch an eare, as is ſo furred with taking in other impertinent things, as it is able to receive no more. There are but a few, and thoſe onely of the more vertuous ſort, who carry thither a minde prepared to receive inſtruction, and have no other intention, than to depart from thence better than they came; who learn not to better their knowledge, but their lives, who hearken as if their eares were chained to the Preachers words, and willingly give not over hearing, til they find themſelves more vertuouſly inclined than they were before.

The fold of Chriſt are diſcerned from other ſtraying flocks, by this diſtinction in their eare, in that they heare and obey the word of God with great avidity.

TH • t ſerious ſaying of St. Auguſtine makes a deep impreſſion in the minds of the Predeſtinate; That they are guilty of no leſſe a crime who negligently hear the Word of God, than thoſe who thorow their careleſneſſe ſuffer the body of Chriſt to fall unto the ground. Wherefore we are not ſo much to regard in the Preacher, who it is that ſpeaks, as who it s that dictate a to him what he is to ſ • y; ſince he ſayes nothing, but what he hath in charge to deli • er from A • mighty God himſelfe.Plom. 26. in • ib. 5. For my owne particular (ſayes Saint Auguſtine) what am I but a ſowers basket, into which he vouchſafed to poure the ſeeds, which I am but to ſcatter among you againe, and ſo you are not ſo much to conſider the unworthineſſe of the basket as the wor • h of the ſeeds, and the ſowers dignity.

A good Chriſtian gathers ſomewhat for his inſtruction out of every thing, and is alwayes making his profit out of it, and he may take this for a cleare ſigne of Predeſtination, if ſitting with Mary Magdalen at the feet of our bleſſed Lord, he remaines ſo faſt hanging on his words by the ſtrong chaines of his attentio • , as no care of any domeſticall buſine • se, no ſiſters murmuration, nor no allurements of any friend can poſſibly draw him thence. Yet neither to heare the Word of God onely, nor what is m • re, to remember it, is any ſuch Signe of predeſtination, unleſſe withall we proceed to put that which we have heard in execution For w • at availes it us to have eaten any thing, if as ſoon as we have ſwallowed it we caſt it up again.

The Mother of God among other her rare vertues was particularly prayſed for conſerving all theſe words, Luke 2. and laying them up in h • r heart. And the royall Pſalmiſt ſayes, In corde meo abſcondi eloquia tua, ut non pe cem tibi. I have hid thy word in my heart, that I ſhould not ſinne againſt thee. Thoſe who hearing of this word doe conſerve it in a pure and pious heart, and bring forth fruit thereof in patience, are fitly compared to a fruitfull ſoyle; and like as to read and not to underſtand, even ſo to hear, and not to remember what they have heard, is as good as wholly to to have neglected it Th t pa nter doth both loſe his time and labour, which drawes out upon a table ſome curious picture in light water colours, which preſently with a ſpunge he doth deface again: And even as great a folly is it thoſe Chriſtians, who hearing do preſently forget what they have heard. We are therefore to ſtrive to remember i • , and that in ſuch a manner, as it be no dead remembrance neither, but rather a quicke and active one, which may urge that on to performance which wee have heard.Iohn 13. Si haec ſcitis, beati critis ſi feceritis ea: no man ever arrived to heaven by knowing what was to be done, but by doing it: and he is farre from action, who will not ſo much as give eare to what he is to do. The books of the holy Scriptures are of all others the pureſt fountain of knowledge, out of which though never ſo many draw, and that never ſo often, yet it is impoſſible for to draw it dry: for ſuch is the nature of this rich veine, that the deeper you dive into it, the more it abounds with divine ſence, and can never bee exhauſt. As the Ant makes proviſion of food in the ſummer, againſt the winter ſeaſon; ſo Chriſtians, during the calme of their affaires, ſhould ſtore themſelves with the Word of God againſt the ſtormes of future calamities. This is moſt certaine, that never any yet contemned to make his benefit in this kind, but they were at laſt ſo puniſhed for it by Almighty God, that both themſelves to their coſt did feele it, and others evidently perceived the ſame, God hath ſo ordeined, that one man ſhould learne of another, and ſubmit himſelfe to his direction; and ſo we ſee that King David although of himſelfe he was moſt wiſe and prudent, and had beſides in many things, ever the helpe of the holy Ghoſt for his inſtruction, did not yet open his eyes to repent for his grievous ſinnes of murther and adultery (although he could not but know that they were ſeverely forbidden by the Law) untill the Prophet Nathan had ſharply reprehended him. Our Saviour did (as we may ſay) preach himſelf out of the Clouds unto S Paul, and yet he ſent him to Ananias for his further inſtructions: Cornelius was certified by an Angel, that his prayer and almes-deeds were acceptable to Almighty God, and yet he intim • ted unto him withall, that he was to repaire to St. Peter for his better information Queen Candace's Treaſurer, whilſt he read the Prophet Iſaiah in his Coach, had no • an Angel aſſigned him for his inſtructour, but Saint Philip the Apoſtle: And finally, Moſe • , who in regard of his neare familiarity with Almighty God, may well be ſtiled of his privy Counſell, was notwithſtanding inſtructed by his fathe • in law, a forrainer, no otherwiſe than a little Child and taught, not without many b tter taunts how he ſhould behave himſelf in poynt of governing the Children of Iſrael: ay, even Chriſt himſelfe, the eternall wiſedome would ſit among the Doctors demanding their vice; ſo as t • ere are none of what ſexe, of what eſtate or condition ſoever they be, that are exempted from hearing the word of God.

BVt you will ſay perhaps you have the reputation of a learned man, I know it well, and what ſequells ſuch great Doctors uſe to inferre from t • ence. Behold the proud erudition of a mortall wit! and who I pray ever arrived to ſuch a height of knowledge or yeares, as not to be ignorant of farre more than ever he had learnt! but grant that you were the learnedſt man alive, and had ſuch a proheminency of underſtanding above all the reſt, as you could heare nothing at a ſermon you had not known before: But what becomes of your wil and memory the while? are they never to be inflamed, never to be ſtirred up, is not the one ſometimes to be incited, the other afreſh renewed? how eaſie is • t for the memory to miſtake, and how prone to errour is the will, unleſſe there be dayly helps invented to rectifie the firſt, and rightly informe the ſecond: for which reaſon it is not on ly very profitable, but even abſolutely neceſſary, that all doe repaire to ſermons t • e evil for their amēdment, the good for their perſ • verance, the ignorant for their inſtruction, and the learned to revive the memory of what they k • ow; that ſo at leaſt if they learn nothing a new, they may not forget the old. Audiens ſapen ſ • p entior eri • , Prov. 1.18. & au • is ſapientium quaerit & Doctrinam: the wiſe man by hearing becomes more wiſe, and the eares of the wiſe are ſtill ſeeking after learning. Herod, though otherwiſe infamous for his manifol • wickedneſſe, yet in this was not ſo rude and barbarous, as not to heare willingly the ordinary preacher of his Court, and doe many things at his inſtigation; & licenter audivit, Mach. 6. & audito eo multa faciebat. Whence we may perceive, that there was in Herod not onely as great willingneſſe to heare, but alſo an unwearied patience the whilſt: for certainly St Ioh. Baptiſt could never h • ve moved him to have done ſo much unleſſe he had both f • equently heard him, and that too in touching ma • y particulars; for we are not indeed to imagine t • at he would onely in groſſe admoniſh the King of his many flagitious crimes, but he at large by maine force of reaſons confuted them, and both ſet his vices before his eyes, and withall powerfully diſſwaded him from the committing them It was impoſſible that St. Iohn with one onely ſermon could ſufficiently argue the Kings inceſtuou • adultery, and his other grievous crimes, but it was requiſite that he ſhould beſtow a ſermon upon each one of them, or rather indeed many in onely taxing one; for his mind obdurate in wickedneſſe, was by an often iterated battery to be expugn'd, and nevertheleſſe libenter eum audiebat; he gave willing eare unto him. And although St. Iohn often publikly exprobrated unto his face his impiety in retaining of his brothers wife, non licet tibi habere uxorem fratris tui, and without doubt with abundant reaſons proved the unlawfulneſſe of the fact; yet ſtill libenter eum audiebat. So great a deſire had Herod of he • ring him, whilſt the Sain • perſiſted with ſo great a conſtancy in reprehending him, neither are we to think, that he ſmother d in the meane time, under a political ſilence • he reſt of his enormous crimes, no, St. Luke is his witneſſe, where he ſayes that Herod the Tetrarch was rep ehended by him, Luk. 3. both for Herodiana his brothers wife, as alſo for the reſt of the evill which he did. So as he neither ſpared to tell him of his tyranny in ſo many civill ſlaughters, of his exaction on the people, in taxes & impoſts, nor laſtly of his rioto s ſpending it againe for the maintenance of his luſt, and yet for all this, libenter cum aud ebat; and ſo great was Herods patience in hearing him, as neither at his firſt ſermon, the moſt vehement of all, not his ſecond or third, nor any of the reſt, he ever ſhewed himſelf offended, or agrieved,Luke 3. but libenter eum audiebat: nor ever thought he preached too often, or too long, too ſharp, or biting for him, or too plaine, and ſimple for the popular eare: libenter eum audiebat & audito eo multa faciebat; ſo that well he might complaine, that he perſevered not in the performance of that which the Saint ſo earneſtly inculcated, but never (with Seneca) that fortune had envied him the knowledge of the truth.l. 6. de bene • ſ. c. 3. Et monſtrabo tibi cui rei laborent magna faſtigia quid omnia poſsidentibus deſit, ſcilicet, ille qui verum dicat Non vide • quemadmodum ill • s in praeceps agat extincta libertas, dum nemo ex animi ſui ſententia ſuadet, diſſuadetque, & unum amicorum omnium officium eſt, una contentio, quis blandiſsime fallat? I will unfold unto you, ſayes he, the diſcommodities which great men are ſubject to, and what i • wanting to thoſe who poſſeſſe every t • ing; that is, one to tel them the truth; doe you not perceive how for want of that liberty they are all driven to ruine? whilſt they have no faithfull friend either to perſwade or diſſwade them any thing, but all take it for their duties, and make it their ſtudies to deceive him with their ſervile flatteries. A crime which St. Iohn for his part in regard of Herod was ſo far from being guilty of, as he ſeemed to be incapable of nothing more, than concealing of the truth, whilſt he performed the duties of a faithfull admoniſher with all ſincerity of heart, and liberty of ſpeech, ſtill plying the Kings eare with non licet tibi Herodes, non licet tibi: it is not lawful for thee, O Herod, it is not lawfull for thee: and that to keep him ſtil ſenſible of his offence. And where now are thoſe nice and dainty eares, who if they but imagine themſelves glanc't at by any words, thogh miſunderſtood, and wreſted to a doubtful ſence, proteſt preſently againſt the Preacher, and all ſuch aſſemblies. It • s hard to ſay, whether in this they out-ſtrip not Herod in wickednes, or no; ſince whilſt they refuſe as well • s he to amend their lives, they abſtain from ſermons, the onely remedies to amend them; which Herod would never doe. He who refuſeth to be perſwaded by his teacher, doth but yeeld • o the perſwaſion of the enemy, and • ommends but a ſcholler to a fooles direction, who will be taught by no other than himſelfe: ſo whoſoever • onceives ſo highly of himſelfe as to • corne all other Maſters beſides, • hewes more arrogancy in it than erudition. Neither can there be any love of vertue in him who either hates or deſpiſes the knowledge of heavenly • hings. The beginning of eſtranging our ſelves from God, is our diſdaine of hearing his word; and he loves not God, who is not deſirous of ſpirituall • nſtruction; for as gold is tryed by • he touchſtone, ſo are the thoughts of man revealed by the Goſpell of Ieſus Chriſt.

MElius eſt hanc artem dandi eleemoſynamſcire, quam eſſe regem, Hom. 55. & 36. ad pop. ſayes St Chryſoſtome, it is better to be converſant in this art of beſtowing Almes, than to be a King; as that which builds us everlaſting manſions in heaven, and teaches us the way to become like to God. It is a great thing to be a man, • ut to be a mercifull man is a pretious thing, qui pronus eſt ad miſeri • ordiam, Prov 22. benedicetur, de panibus enim ſuis dedit pauperi, he who is prone to mercy, ſhall be bleſſed, for he hath beſtowed his bread upon the poore. Wherefore • hi • benificence (to ſpeak ſtill with the ſame golden mouth'd St. Chryſoſtome) is that which reſembleth us to God: this is the Mother o • Charity,Chry. hom. 6. in ca • . 3. ep. ad Tritem. and the proper badge of Chriſtian perfection, which diſtinguiſhes Chriſt • Diſciples from other men. This i • that which cures our infirmities, which waſhes away the ſtaines of our ſoule: this, that ladder whi h was reared up to Heaven Theſ • rizate vobis theſauros in caelo, Matth. 6. hoard up treaſures for your ſelves in heaven, ſayes our Saviour Chriſt: Hearken O ye rich, and learn a new art, which heaven it ſelfe doth teach, a new way of gathering riches together, ſpargere: be liberall of it, you were miſta • en hitherto, the way to become rich is to give your wealth away, and not to hoard it up: he who in this world diſtributes his treaſure among the poore, doth but lay it up ſo his owne uſe in the next. Nei- is it neceſſary that we diſcharge our money by whole handfulls on the poore; give but halfe-pence, give but farthings, or a cruſt of bread, (ſo you do it freely and willlingly) and in interchange thereof you ſhal receive whole worlds of treaſure and poſſeſſions. The Cenſours in ancient time were wont now and then to viſit the Citizens houſes, and ſurvey their garments, to ſee whether they were not moatheaten, their bread mouldy, meat tainted, or the like, neither without reaſon; and I feare me that if any ſuch viſit ſhould bee made now a dayes, there would be ſome found who feed vermine with that they have, rather than they will beſtow it on the poore. But now we know how to diſpoſe ſo of our ſubſtance, as neither ruſt, moath, nor any other vermine can annoy it.Matth. 6. Theſurizate vobis theſauros in caelo, ubi neque erugo, neque tinea demolitur, &c. Lay up treſure for your ſelves in heaven, where neither ruſt, nor moath can do it any harme, where neither any thief can break in and ſteal it thence. Manna did not corrupt, unleſſe it was layd up for the next day, neither doth any ſtock ſo much diminiſh as theirs, who are too carefull to preſerve it ſtill entire; you can ſecure it no better way, than by • ruſting it in the hands of the poore and their ſtomacks, as the beſt Granaries to ſtacke up our corne, ſince there it is ſecure from fire, and ye are ſure to receive it with increaſe againe. Had Abſalom but cut his bright treſſes off, his haire had beene an ornament to his head, and not the occaſion of its confuſion; and ſo if the wealthier ſort would but contribute part of their ſubſtance towards the maintenance of the poore, they ſhould have as many friends at command, as now they have crownes; whereas now they affect nothing by their covetouſneſſe, but that the more money they have, in the more dangerous eſtate they live in. The ſonne of Sirach perſwades us, Perdere pecuni • m propter fratrem, Eccl. 29. & amicum tuum, & non abſcondas illam ſub lapide in perditionem: To caſt away our money for (the behalfe of your friend and brother, and not to hide it under a ſtone to our own perdition; and our Saviour Chriſt bids us dare, Eccl. 29. & dabitur vobis, To give, that we may receive againe. Wells become fowle, if they be not often uſed, and the more water you draw from them, the more pure you render them. The Predeſtinate, if it were poſſible, when they beſtow an almes, would give their hearts withall, ſo willingly they impart their ſubſtance to the poore, and in this ſence our bleſsed Saviour pronounces the mercifull to be bleſſed, to wit, not onely ſuch as have ability to afford much, but alſo thoſe who have a deſire ſo be beneficiall unto all. It was Pythagoras opinion, ſimilia non niſi a ſimilibu • comprehendi. That like was not attained but by its like, and ſo it happens in this kinde of Merchandiſe, where one commodity is not purchaſed, but by exchange of the ſame commodity againe. Oleum emitur oleo: wilt thou obtaine mercy? by works of mercy it is to be purchaſed. But you will ſay, perhaps, by giving unto others you may happen to impoveriſh your ſelfe? what a vaine caution is this, rather to truſt to our owne forces than to the promiſes of Chriſt? How many have been beggered by their covetouſneſse, whilſt never any was undone by charity to the poor? God contends with us in liberality, and wil not give over but on the better hand.King. 3.7. King, 4.4. The poore widow gained more by Elias, than his ſlender refreſhment came to, and Eliſeus hoſteſſe was more obliged to him, than he to her.

THere are many (but thoſe not of the number of the predeſtinate) who give rarely any almes but malignantly: To give malignantly, is to beſtow that onely on the poore which we have our ſelves in loathing, which we know no thow otherwiſe to be rid of, it is ſo wholly unfit for any uſe, ſuch, if they have any meat tainted with long keeping, if the bread bee mouldy: or the drinke be ſowre, if they have any thing in fine ſo loathſome, ſo ſtinking, as they could not find in their hearts to beſtow it on a dog, can then thinke of giving it to the poore, a great benevolence no doubt. Alas deare Chriſtians! how often with ſoothing perſwaſions doe we deceive our ſelves? This is not (as the Prophet Baruch exprobrated to ſome) to offer oyle, but onely the Olive ſtones. And what was the reaſon that God rejected Cain and his offerings, but onely becauſe having ability to offer better fruits of the earth, he offered him the worſt: Our good wills of giv • ng more, ſuffices when we have not much to give, but if we have large ability, we are inexcuſable, if we give ſparingly. When thou canſt not help the poor with thy deeds, at leaſt afford them comfort in thy words, and pitty them in thy heart, whom thou canſt not ſuccour in thy actions: neither thoſe Iſraelites, nor their offerings were deſpiſed, who preſented onely flower, goats hai • e, and briſtles, becauſe it was all they were able to beſtow; whereas (as St. Chryſoſtme notes) ſhould they have preſented nothing elſe, who had ability to offer more, they had incurred by it a heavy malediction. Others there are forwards enough in giving Almes, but whilſt they are no leſse prone to their filthy pleaſures, than to Almes, they defile the oyle of mercy, with the ſordidneſse of their licentious lives. The Anazarboei, a people of Cilicia, were wont to att • biute their fertility of Olives to their virgins chaſtities, for which cauſe they ſuffered none to manure and plant them but onely them. For Chriſtians let them aſsure themſelves, that there is ſuch an antipathy betwixt this Olive of mercy, and Venus laſcivious Myrtle, that in one common inclo • ure they can never be contained, and that Almes which goes accompanied with diſhoneſt life, cannot be pleaſing to Almighty God; neither will he regard the liberality of our hands, which is proceeding from a libidinous mind. Others againe there are wholly not wallowing like thoſe in the mire of carnall pleaſures, but yet in that they affect prayſe, and a kinde of oſtentation in their Almes, they effect nothing with all their bootleſse paynes, but onely profuſe this oyle of liberality And why deare Chriſtian, wilt thou let thy left hand be privy to what thy right hand doth? as i • ſuch as thoſe were not juſtly, by that myrror of patience,Iob 15. holy Iob, compared to the Olive caſting of i • s flowers which tree,Greg. lib. 12. mor. 26. according to St. Gregory, though it never bee ſo well t • ken with bloſſoms, yet if it be nipt with any bleake ayre, becomes wholly deſtitute of fruit: Even ſo, although thou beeſt never ſo charitable to the poore, if thou doſt it becauſe others ſee thee, or to be ſeene by others, the breath of their commendations blaſts all the fruit thereof. As for the Almes which the Predeſtinete beſtow, no living eye is conſcious of it, except that from which nothing can be hid, neither doe they expect any praiſe for it, but onely his, from whom they hope likewiſe for their reward. And St. Chryſoſtome teacheth, though Almes have golden wings yet they are not of the nature of the Peacocks, to Court admiration here, whilſt the reward which attends it is in heaven, but thither it ſoa • es up upon its glittering wings, and takes its ſtand before our Saviour Chriſt, whom it acknowledges in the perſon of the poore; yea, their Almes-deeds is ſo farre from the deſire of divulging of it ſelfe, as if it were poſſible it would be latent to thoſe who diſpoſe of it; ſo little doth a good man care how few be of counſaile to what he doth, ſo long as he is ſure, that he is not ignorant of it, who onely can and will reward him for it. For which reaſon St. Cyprian calls a mind thus propenſe unto the poore, a moſt ſure caution of our ſecurity, whereby wee have engaged God our debtor, and endeared our ſelves into the favour of our ſoveraigne Iudge.

AT the day of Iudgement we ſhall be moſt rigorouſly examined on this particular, when thoſe who ſhall be convicted to have beene ſterne, hard hearted, and unmercifull to the poore; ſhall be condemned by a legall, and moſt terrible ſentence; Ite maledicti in ignem aeternum, Goe ye accurſed into everlaſting • re. On the contrary, thoſe whom the divine predeſtination had from all eternity deſigned for the Society of Angels, may approach unto the Iudge, and confidently ſay, deale liberally now with us, as we have de • lt with others; beſtow thy ſelfe upon us, ſince for thee wee have beſtowed our Almes upon the poore, we have had compaſſion of others, wherefore now have compaſſion on us againe, we have performed that which thou didſt require, it reſts that thou performe that which thou haſt promiſed. When the Iudge farre from offence to be ſo confidently challenged of his promiſes, will ingeniouſly confeſſe the obligation, and they ſhall behold in his wide and open ſide, this inſcription ingraven in his very wounds in Characters of pretious ſtones: Venite benedicti poſsidete regnum; Come yee bleſſed, poſſeſſe your Kingdome, enjoy your hearts deſires. I remember my promiſes, and commend your deſerts, which worthily preferre you to ſo great a recompence, come and receive your reward, interminable in date, invaluable in worth; all the good offices you did to my poore, were done unto my ſelfe, your charity provided me of meat and drinke, your garments cloathed me when I was a ſtranger, your Roofes received and lodged me; neither could the ſtrong bars of priſons debar your pitties from viſiting of mee there; nay I even owe my life unto your compaſſion, Venite benedicti; for thoſe cruſts of bread, you beſtowed in Almes upon the poore, come and feaſt with me for all eternity; for harbouring ſtrangers in your houſe • , I have provided a habitation with the Angels for you: for cloathing the ſhivering members of the naked, I here inveſt you with the royall purple of immortality, venite Benedicti. O what commutation, what recompence is here! a ſtole of glory, the riches of heaven, interminable felicity and delights, for rags, odd farthings, a few crums of bread. Omnis m • ſericordia facit locum unicuique ſecundum meritum operum tuorum, &c. Eccl. 16. All mercy ſhall make a place to every man according to the merit of his workes, and according to the underſtanding of his peregrination. I would to God this were as perſwaſive to every one, as it is true; then there is none but would purchaſe heaven at ſo cheap a price. It is a moſt true and excellent ſaying of St. Auguſtine; Ceſ. Arclit. Rom. 13. Si vis mercator eſſe optimus, &c. If thou wilt play the wiſe Merchant indeed, forgoe that which thou canſt not keep poſſeſſion of, in exchange • f that which thou canſt never loſe; depart with a little, for the returne of a hundred fold; give a piece of money to the poore, to obtaine a whole Kingdom for it of Chriſt our Lord; beſtow a bit of bread, to receive forgiveneſſe of thy ſi • s, disfurn ſh thy ſelfe of a ſlight garment, to merit by it a ſtole of laſting glory; give theſe deſpicable things, to purchaſe eternall ones. What extreme folly is it,In Mat. 6. ſayes Saint Chryſoſtome, illic tua relinquere, unde exiturus es: & illuc non praemittere quo es, to leave thy ſubſtance there behind thee, from whence thou art to depart, rather than to ſend it before thee thither where thou art to goe: wherefore let it it be our chiefeſt care to furniſh that place with our treaſures, w • ere afterwards we are to make our reſidence.

PRide is the ruine of all vertues, and the ſteep precipice of Angels and of men. Good God, what a change, what a commu • ation was then between heaven and earth, when the moſt glorious amongſt Angels was caſt headlong downe from heaven to earth, whilſt the miſerableſt po • reſt ſoule on earth was elevated by the hands of Angels unto heaven? Lucifer through his pride did fall from thence, whither poore ulcerous Lazarus was exalted for his humility, who it is credible did not ſo often number his vertues as his ſores; no doubt out of genuine ſelfe contempt of his, ſeemed more patient unto all, than unto himſelfe, It is a very true and ſignificant ſaying of a certaine Saint, • arum valet qui ſe aliquid valere cenſet, nil penitus valet qui ſe multum valere autumat. He is worth but littl • who in his owne account ſeems to • e w • rth any thing, and he nothing at all, who conceits himſelfe much worth. With whom St. Bernard doth well accord, where he ſaith, Omnia ill • d • ſunt, qui nihil ſibi deeſſepu • at, That he wants all, who imagines himſelfe to want nothing: And we may add, that they ſcarcely ſeeme to be borne for heaven, who whilſt they are ſelfe-conceited of their owne actions, become as ſharp cenſurers of others lives, as they are fooliſh admirers of their owne; and whilſt with an affected blindneſs they bleare their owne judgements of themſelves, can never judge aright of other men. Out upon this vanity! Can we think that heaven will ever give admittance unto ſuch pride as this? no, it is onely for the predeſtinate, who cenſure nones lives ſo rigorouſly as their owne: who oftner •• t in judgement on their owne manners, than on other mens, and are ſo farre mo • e ſevere unto them elves than to all beſides, as they eaſily pardon others, never themſelves, when they have d • ne amiſſe. Miſerable as we are • • ho being but duſt and ſhadow s dayly gliding away after thoſe who are v • niſhed before, can yet glory in our own Progenitor, & ſh • w ong ranged ſtatutes of our Anceſtours, as if he were a man who can number more men of his linage paſt. Homo vanitati ſimil s factus eſt, die ejus ſicut umbra praetereunt. Man is become like unto vanity, and his dayes doe vaniſh away like a ſhadow. Whereſoever we reflect our eyes, we finde cauſe ſufficient to diſſolve them into teares. If we fixe them on heaven, whilſt we behold our Country aloof we cannot but conſider our ſelves in baniſhment,; if on earth, it is but the upbraiding remembrance of our grave, and however we betrample it for the preſent with our feet, it makes full account to have the diſpoſure of our heads at laſt: finally, if on our ſelves, O what a fair and ruddy fruit! but alas all worme-eaten within; where ordour, ſtench, corruption, death it ſelfe have taken their lodgings up. If we con i • er our owne hearts, what a foule abyſſe, and depth it is, all beſet with knotted beds of Snakes and Add rs? woe, woe's us, we even ſwarme with vices, and yet cannot cont • mne our • elves: we bee oppr ſſed with a world of follies, miſerie, and ſinnes, and ye • aff ct the reput • tion of wiſe, happy, learned, and holy men. The predeſtinate the while convert all this unto their greater profit, & out of the conſiderations of their daily actions and themſelves, doe draw forth motives of their own contempt Theſe can eaſily with St. Paul be induced to ſlight and contemne all other things, who have firſt learned to ſlight and contemne themſelves. This b • ing ſo, whoſoever deſires to be truely happy indeed, muſt procure to take diligently out this leſſon of his owne contempt; from whence he is to proceed (excepting God) to contemne all other things. The Predeſtinate can beſt reliſh that excellent ſaying of Saint Chryſoſtome, Hom. 3. in Mat. Minimum de ſe ſenſiſſe tam m • gram eſt, quam es maximas feciſſe, It is as great matter for a man to account but little of himſelf as to have exployted mighty things. As alſo that of our Saviour Chriſt, he who aſpires to be greateſt among you, ſhal be the leaſt in the Kingdome of heaven (if ever they arrive to ſo much happines) They are not ignorant how the way of humility is craggy and painefull at the firſt, but afterwards it becomes more eaſie and delightſome. They know there reſts • f their journey but this one ſteep aſcent, and ſo gratefull unto all who direct them on their way, they climb it up with all alacrity. They love to be contemned, they affectionately imbrace the occaſions, they reioyce to ſee themſelves deſpiſed, and more inſult over themſelves in the meane time, than any enemy. Theſe when they are injured are ſo far from revenging their quarrell by the ſword, as they utter not a word in their owne defence. H • re none ſtretches forth an arme, or brandiſheth a ſword to vindicate a wrong, as knowing the more profit redounds unto them, the more they are contemned. The predeſtinate only know, as • en deeply read in the ſchoole of Chriſt our Saviour, that they are never the worſe for m • ns deriding, nor leſſe for t • eir contemning them Tantus eſt unuſquiſque, 1. Kin • s 16. quantus eſt in occulis Dei: A man is no more than juſt as hee appeares in God Almighties eye: non pilo major, &c. not a haire greater, neither doth God judge by mens eſtimation. When we ſeeme little to our ſelves we ſeeme great to God, and then leaſt to him when we appeare the greateſt to our ſelves. The deeper a Well is, the more purer is it water: and the mo • e vile eſteem one conceiveth of himſelf, the more gratefull he is unto Almighty God: All which ſeems eminent in us, is to be abaſed, our high ſpirits level ed with the ground, an • the univerſall fabrick of our pride buried under the heaps of our miſeries, ignorances, and imperfections. Musk, as they ſay, having loſt its ſavour, by being buryed in ſome ſtink • ng dunghill recov • rs it gaine; and ſo if we • ut truely enter into the conſideration of our owne vileneſſe and ſurquedy, we ſhal exhale not any ſuch odour as we did before, but that of the amendment of our ſelves, the onely conducing meanes to our ſalvation.

A Holy religions man being demanded once, which in his opinion was the moſt expeditious way to heaven, anſwered. Si ſe homo ſem per accuſat. For a man ever to accuſe himſelfe. Lib de virg. c. 31. And this according to St. Auguſtine, is the very ſum of all Chriſtian learning: and St Ambroſe avouches,Lib de virg. c. 31. A pol. de dau. c. 9. Signum electorum eſt, male de • e ſentire, & vulnus ſuum agnoſcere. That it is an infallible ſigne of the • lect when one ackn w edges his infirmities, and thinks contemptibly of himſelfe: on the contrary, Reproborum eſt proprium ſemper prava agere, In. c. 5. Iob. & nunquam quae egerint retractare, &c. ſayes St. Gregory, It is the cuſtome of the reprobate to bee alwayes committing evill, and never willing to amend their wickedneſſe, but they paſſe over all they doe in the blindneſſe of their minds, and nothing but puniſhment can make them ſenſible of the harme they doe; whereas the elect doe dayly trace out their actions to the very fountaines head of thoſe thoughts, from whence they ſprung. Neither for this are they ever the more ſecure, ſince they know there are many things may eſcape their obſervation, which onely the all-ſearching eye of Almighty God perceives. The Sonne of Syrach counſailes us,Eccl. 3. quanto magnus es humilia te in omnibus & coram deo invenies gratiam. The greater thou art, humble thy ſelfe the more in every thing, and thou ſhalt finde grace before Almighty God; ſeeing the power of God is onely great, and hee is honoured in the humble. Aſſuredly among all others it is the greateſt perfection to have a true knowledge of our owne imperfections, and that ſoule merits more of true praiſe, in underſtanding it ſelfe, than in neglecting that, to know the courſe of the Starres, the limits of the Earth, the vertues of Plants, the abſtruſe ſublimity of Heaven, and the Earths unfathomed profundity:Aug. Wouldſt thou contrive ſome edi •• ce of eminent altitude? thinke firſt of laying the foundation in Humility; all naturally aſpire unto the top, but Humil ty is the fi ſt ſt • p unto it. Our Co • ntrey is high, the way unto it low; and who can ſeriouſly wiſh to arrive unto it, who refuſeth to goe the way? But alas, it is a miſery, which Saint Hierom doth worthily deplore,Hier. epiſt. 27. Multi humilitatis umbram, veritatem pauci ſectantur, that many follow the ſhadow of humility, but few the ſubſtance; few indeed, but thoſe few • nely happy, thoſe few of the Predeſtinate, who the more they behold, the more they diſl • ke themſelves; and thoſe the more pretious in the eyes of God, the more they appeare contemptible in their ow • e Qui minus ſe vident, Greg. lib. 33 • oral. c. 5. minus ſibi diſplicent, ſayes Saint Gregory. Thoſe who leaſt conſider themſelves, are thoſe who diſpleaſe themſelves the leaſt. Many whilſt they know many things are ignorant of themſelves, and in Gods eyes ſeeme the leſſe the greater they ſeeme in their owne. To conclude, the beſt and ſafeſt aſcent to Almighty God, is by the way of the knowledge of our owne unworthineſſe; and Caſsiodorus ſaid excellent well,Pſal. 6. deſcendendo coelum aſcenditur, That by deſcending wee aſcend to heaven.

IT is of all others the moſt generous and noble kind of victory, to pardon thine enemies when thou haſt opportunity to revenge thy ſelf, and is farre more glorious to overcome an adverſary by ſilence, than by open conteſtation: honor eſt homini qui ſe ſeparata contentionibus: Prov. 20. it is honourable for a man to dec • ine contentions: and vindicare ſe non eſt actus fortitudinis, Lib. 1. Offic. c. 36. ſed abjectionis & timiditatis, ſaith St. Ambroſe; to revenge ones ſelfe is no act of valour, but of a baſe and cowardly minde; and he who vindicates himſelfe is rather overcome by his enemy, then overcomes. Neither was that Prince of Philoſophers of other opinion: Sicut debelis eſt ſtomachi cibum duriorem non poſſe concoquere, Ariſt. li. 4. Ethic. c. 4. ita homnis puſilanimis eſt verbum duriuſculum non poſſe ſuſtinere, as it is a ſ • gne of a queaſie ſtomach (ſaith he) not to be able to digeſt ſolid meats, ſo is it of a puſillanimous man, not to be able to brook h • rſh and offenſive words. We can give no clearer teſtimony that we are Chriſtians, than by loving our enemy. To be well exerciſed in vertue, we have need either of a faithfull friend, or a malitious enemy, and may reſt aſſured that none can ever injurie us, but they muſt doe themſelves a greater injurie;Chryſ. Hom. 41. in Act. Apost. Vindicta in corde poſita nocentior eſt viperâ: for revenge (ſayes St. Chryſoſt • me) unto that heart which harbours it, is more pernicious than a viper; n • ither is it a leſſe crime to requite an injurie, than to be before hand with one. Haſt thou ſtruck th • ne enemy? then t • ou haſt mortally wounded thy ſelfe and as he w • o ſnatcheth up burning coales out of the herth to throw at others, firſt burnes his owne hands; even ſo thoſe who endevour to harme others, are ever the firſt on whom it lights, and moſt commonly the laſt, when thoſe ſhift the danger whom we intend to miſchiefe, and ſo thee blowes turne upon our ſelves. Whoſoever conceives hatred againſt another, doth firſt of all wound his own ſoul and he who lives out of Charity, hath but death for his reſidence. Yet it is hard (let them ſay what they wil) it is hard for one to love his enemy. It is true, but it will be more hard to burne in hell with ſo many enemies; it is difficile to love him, whom we account ſcarſe worthy of our hate: but it will be more difficile to heare thoſe terrible words; Ite male dicti in ignem aeternum; Goe yee curſed into everlaſting fire: Can I ſuffer him to ſcape harmleſſe, who hath ſo often beene the occaſion of harming me? Thoſe who decline all ſteep aſcents will never mount up a hill; and he doth but eſtrange himſelfe from heaven, who refuſes to forgive his enemies. There are, that will undertake long pilgrimages, from whe • ce commonly they returne more vicious than they went; we make our offerings at the Altar, but all this while our whole hearts are ſtone; we are carefull to deſire Gods mercy, and pardon, whilſt we ſtill urge on revenge to execut on. O deare Chriſtian, God hath afforded thee a plenary Indulgence in thy ſelf, thou maiſt gaine it with one word ſpeaking: doe but ſay Ignoſco, I pardon and thou haſt obtained a full remiſſion of all thy ſins; Dimitte, & dimittetur tibi. Luke 6. Otherwiſe, if thou ſhalt deliver thy body to the fire,1 Cor. 13. and in the mean time haſt no charity, even for thine enemies, all will availe thee nothing. Hee according to the worlds account is moſt rich, who hath moſt debtors. Thine enemies owe thee ſatisfaction for many injuries; keep them ſtill thy debto • s, and ſo enrich thy ſelfe. Make up thy accounts, ſee what thou oweſt to others, and what reſidue is remaining for thy ſelfe; without doubt thou would • t eſteeme thy ſelfe a wealthy man if all thy debts were cleared. How deeply art thou indebted to Almighty God? inſomuch as through thy negligence thou art wholly unabled to give him ſatisfaction: take then a provident courſe; aſſigne him over to the debtors, and ſo by their inte • vention quit thy bonds, which of thy ſelfe thou couldſt never have cancelled. Dimitti, & dimittetur tibi, forgive thy neighbour when he offends againſt thee,Eccl. 28. and then at thine humble petition thine owne offences ſhall be forgiven thee; if thou forget thoſe ſmall reckonings betwixt thee and thy neighbour, God will releaſe thee thy mighty arrerages. You k • ow well that ſaying of St Hierom: ô • ormidoloſa ſententia, &c. O horrible ſentence (ſayes he) God will not remit us our great debts, unleſſe we remit our brothers their ſmaller ones; and we are to expect at Gods hands againe ſuch pardon, as we afford our enemies.

WHerefore, whoſoever thou art, have compaſſion at leaſt of thy ſelfe, and rather than to hate thine owne ſe fe, love t • ine enemy: the plea ure of revenge is ſhort, but that of mercy is perpetuall: Wherefore Noli vinci a malo, Rom. 12. ſed vince in bono malum: Be not overcome (I beſeech you) of evill, but overcome evill with good. If thine Enemy be a hungry, beſtow food upon him: if thirſty, aſſwage it but with a draught of water, a d thou ſhalt heap hot burning coales upon his head, Prov. 25. and God will reward thee for it: vince in bono malum. St Chryſoſtome ſpeaking of this victory ſayes, that in the Olympick gam s, where the Devill was preſident, it was enacted, Male faciendo vincere, In c. 12. ad Rom. that they ſhould overcome by violence, and all fou e meanes: but in thoſe where C • r ſt preſides, there is a decree quite oppoſite to this, where not he who ſtrikes, but he who is ſtrucken meriteth a Crowne. If we did ſtrive to excell in meekneſſe, how invincible ſhould we be, how farre above all iniurie and wrong? O then never utter ſuch odious words as theſe, reddam malum, I will repay evill,Prov. 20. but expecta Dominum & liberabit te, doe but expect our Lord, and he will undertake thy cauſe. Neither ſay, I will deale with him as he hath dealt with me. Alas, why to your owne loſſe ſhould you ſeek anothers harme and detriment? why doe you bite thoſe ſtones which are throwne at you, like ſome Maſtiffe Cur, and not rather turne upon the hand which threw them? Ridiculous blindneſſe! why art thou ſo furious againſt thine enemy?2 Kings 16 Dimitte eum, ut maledicat: dominus enim praecepit et ut malediceret tibi: let him revile thee ſtill, for it is God who hath appoynted him. Thoſe who are condemned to dye, are not angry with the E • ecutioner, but with the Iudge; and why, ſilly as thou art, doſt thou bend thy forces againſt him who inflicts upon thee thy ſufferings, and not rather co • ſider by whoſe warrant it is done? Is it not God, who for thy greater good hath ſingled thee out ſuch an adverſary as this, to the end to puniſh thee for thy paſſed crimes? The Devill could not have bereaved Iob Iob of one herd of cattell, but by expreſſe permiſſion of Almighty God: whe • fore he ſaid well, (not the devil) but the Lord beſtowed them on me, and deprived me of them againe. Our Saviour Chriſt told Pilate when he gloried in his power:Iohn 19. non haberes poteſtatem, &c. Thou ſhouldſt have no power over me, unleſſe it were given thee from above. And this were an excellent anſwer to give an enemy. Divers have more profited by their enemies, than by their deareſt friends. The Church had had no Martyrs if all its Tyrants had beene exti • pated: and ſhould we have no enemies, we ſhould be deprived of many a glorious Crowne. Diocleſian did no leſſe advance and propagate the Church by his inhumane cruelty, than Conſtantine by his reverence towards it and liberality. That rich • armer in the Goſpell commanded that both the corne and weeds ſhould be ſuffered to grow up together: Sinite utraque creſcere; whereas we over-haſty and violent to our owne perditions, no ſooner can eſpy a weed above the ground, but we cry out preſently, to the fire with theſe Thiſtles, let this Darnell be burnt, let our enemies be deſtroyed. Stay, ſtay deare Chriſtians, we ought not to take this violent courſe as yet: when t • e harveſt comes, there will be order given to the husbandman, to gather, firſt of all, the Cockle and Darnell into bundles, and caſt them into the fire: and why then ſhould we diſcredit our owne zeale with our owne in conſiderate haſte; why are we ſo forward to drag ou • ene • ies to deſerved puniſhment? Never feare it, ſuch weeds as theſe ſhall not eſcape the ſikle & the fire; but as yet the harveſt is not come,Matth. 6. expect a wh le. Our Saviour Chriſt teaching his Diſciples a forme of Prayer, conſiſting of ſeven Petitions to his heavenly Father, doth not without profound myſtery particularly repeat and expound that which concernes the forgiveneſſe of offences, to ſignifie thereby without doubt, that for the reſt it might ſuffice to have only inſinuated them unto the • , but that this could never bee inculc • ted enough: Nunquam enim nimis dicitur, quod nunquam ſatis dicitur. And even in this reſpect the royall Pſalmiſt enlarges himſelfe inPſal. 118. commendations of the law: Latum mandatum tuum nimis, thy law (ſaith he) O Lord, is exceeding broad, indeed ſo broad, as to command us to extend the boſome of our loves, not onely to our acquaintance, but to meere ſtrangers, as well to our adverſaries, as thoſe who are beneficiall to us, to the worthy and unworthy, unto friends and enemies alike. No exteriour marke of any dignity doth ſo teſtifie a man to be learned, wealthy, or noble, as the actuall loving of our Enemies doth us, to be the Sons of Almighty God. But, who (you will object) is ſo abſolute a maſter of himſelfe, as not to be tranſported ſometimes, through violence of paſſion & danger, to ſome extraordinary expreſſion of our averſion from an enemy. But we muſt know that it becomes a Chriſtian, to refraine his anger, and curb ſuch violent motions as theſe. St. Auguſtine ſayes rarely well Audîſti convitium? ventus eſt. Ser. 3. inter. 17. Hom. Iratus es? fluctus eſt Vento igitur flante, fluctu ſurgente periclitatur navis, periclitatur cor tuum: audito convitio vindicari vis, & ecce vindicando te feciſtinaufragium, Doſt thou heare thy ſelfe ill ſpoken of? (ſayes he) it is but a wind: art thou offended at it? it is but a billow; but when this winde and billowes meet, thy heart is in jeopardy, the poore ſhip is in danger to be caſt away, Thou reſolveſt to revenge thy ſelfe for thoſe offenſive words, and behold it is the wrack of thee. And he proceeds to give the the reaſon for it, & quare hoc? Why is all this? ſayes he: quia dormit in te Chriſtus, oblitus es Chriſtum nimirum excidit tibi Chriſtum cum crucifigeretur inimicis ſuis non Crucem, ſed veniam a patre lachrimis exoraſſe, Becauſe Chriſt is a ſleep in thee, thou haſt forgotten Chriſt, thou doſt not remember how Chriſt, whilſt he was crucified, beſought his Father even with teares, to pardon, and not to puniſh his enemies. And now behold how Chriſt is a ſleep in thee, who taught thee not onely to watch, but even to dye to pleaſure thine enemies. O therfore awake Chriſt within thee by expoſtulating in this manner with thy ſelfe: And who am I, that I ſhould revenge me of mine enemies? Who knowes whether I may not ſooner meet with death, than my revenge can meet with them? and then O miſerable as I am, what will become of me, when Chriſt ſhall diſclaime my departing ſoule, when he ſhall reject me, who hath taught mildneſſe, not anger, who hath profeſt himſelfe a maſter of ſubmiſſion, not of revenge, of charity and pardon, not hate and rancorous ſpight?

BVt revenge hath neither eyes nor eares, it is carryed blind and deafe away by the ſwing of every ſuddaine paſſion, ſo as with good reaſon that ancient Poet declares himſelfe agrieved.

It is the faſhion now of the richer ſort, if you doe them any pleaſure, their thanks are lighter than a feather, for it; but if once you diſpleaſe them the memory of it lyes as heavy as lead upon their galled mindes. Where he ſeemes to have lively diſciphered ſuch as now a dayes ſuffer their friendſhips to be blown away, and vaniſh with the leaſt wind of an offence, whilſt they rivit the hate of an injury as deeply in their minds, as if it were ſodered there with ſheets of lead O Chriſtians for ſhame be more prone to pardon, leaſt we be found more defective herein than very Heathens themſelves, leaſt we be convinced with ſo many cleare examples and teſtimonies of theirs, as to have no colorable excuſe left to pretend for pardon at that laſt generall day, Pompey the great is no leſſe famous in Hiſtory, for his conſtancy to his friends, his eaſineſſe in forgiving offences, and facility in admitting of any ſatisfaction, than for his three glorious triumphs over the third part of the univerſall world. Auguſtus Caeſar in theſe expreſſe tearmes pardoned Cinna, who had conſpired againſt his life: O Cinna, once more I grant thee thy life; the firſt time as to an Enemy, now as to a Traytor and a Paracide: and hereupon he beſtowed upon him the Conſular dignity: and the iſſue of this his clemency was, that he experienced him ever after moſt loyall to him, and Cinna dying, left him inheritor of all he had. Phocian, a man of moſt innocent life, and one who had borne Offices of higheſt dignity in the Common wealth, being condemned to dye, ſome of his friends, as the hang-man was preſenting him with the poyſoned Cup, asked him, What ſervice he would command them to his Son? Nothing (ſaid he) but that he would never cal to mind what a draught the Athenians inforce me this day to drinke. It is recorded of Iulius Caeſar, that he was unmindfull of nothing but injuries. But who is there of us, who would not think it a blemiſh to t • eir reputations, to have ſuch an opinion as this conceiv'd of them? how freſhly doe we beare injuries in mind? how ſenſible are we of them, and whilſt we write down benefits in light duſt, we record them in ſolid flint, manet altâ mente repôſtum: neither can the authority of Almighty God himſelf prevaile, to bring us to reconciliation. God long agoe hath ſev • rely prohibited all revenge, in declaring,Deut. 32. mea eſt ultio & ego retribuam in te • pore; Revenge belongs to me, and in time I will reward them: and notwithſtanding, how many are there who impiouſly anſwer him again, No, ô Lord, revenge belongs to me, and I will requite them: Our Lord replyes, It is my revenge, let me alone with it; And yet man deſiſts not: nay, rather mine, leave the managing of it to me; you O Lord are too ſoon appeaſed, your revenge is too too ſlow. And thus with moſt intollerable preſumption we uſurpe the authority of Almighty God, and dare even impiouſly to wreſt the ſword out of Gods hands to ſtrike our enemies, whoſe puniſhment he reſerves to himſelfe, and againſt a • l right put on the ſeverity of a • udge, whilſt we are parties in the offenc • our ſelves.

IT is recounted by divers credible Authors, how a certain perſon who had received an injury had recourſe once to one Siſovius an ancient holy man;Rufin. Aquil l. 3. n. 7 • . Paſchaſ • e. 10. Pelag. libell 1 • . r. 10. Palla • l. in a • pen Puuſi Hiſt. n 13. to whom after he had declared his agrievances, as the manner is, with all exaggeration of circumſtance, he beſought him to let him declare himſelf a man, and revenge himſelfe. The ſame with al inſtancy of prayer deſired him not to ſhew himſelfe ſo farre a man, as to become a Devill: For his revenge, God would have care to diſpoſe all for his greater good; wherefore he was to commit it wholly unto him, and even according to true fortitude this was the ſufficienteſt revenge that he could take, who might aſſure himſelfe that his enemy ſhould never eſcape the divine hands unpuniſhed. The other replyed, Father I am fully reſolved never to pardon him, nor to deſiſt till I have requited him with the like injury. For heavens love, anſwered the holy man, be a man, but ſo as you be a Chriſtian withall, and conſider more what reaſon may perſwade you, than what your violent paſſion may ſuggeſt: Why, ſaid the other, it is no other than reaſon which puts me upon this reſolution, not to ſpare him, who cares not for ſparing any. O but, ſaid Siſovius, you cannot determine your owne right your ſelfe, nor execute what you have determined; it is onely in Gods power to puniſh his creatures, he is the Lord of vengeance, and therefore may freely take revenge; for us we ought not intermeddle in it. Beſides I am ſure you are not ignorant how Chriſt hath not only counſelled but even cōmanded us to pardon, nay to pray for, to love, and do good unto our enemies. Father, ſayd he, never perſwade me, my heart is a tempeſtuous ſea, & can never be calmed untill I have taken vengeance of mine enemy. Then anſwered Siſovius, ſince you are ſo reſolved, reſpit at leaſt your anger untill we have commended ou • ſelve • to God in prayer. And thereupon they both fell down upon their knees: when the holy man began, preſcribing unto the other (as it were) this for • e of Prayer. O God we have no need of thy aſsiſtance any more, neither doe we requeſt thee hereafter to be ſolicitous for us. We will ſufficiently provide for our ſelves; revenge belongs unto us, and we will reward our foes as they deſerve. Behold even now we are upon the poynt of ſubjecting our enemies as foot-ſtooles under our feet. Theſe words ſo lively touched the heart of that other man, that caſting himſelfe all along at Siſovius feet, he vowed with many teares there in the place, ſo wholly to lay aſide all thought of his revenge, as never thereafter, by the leaſt word to call it to mind againe. And this is that, which he, who onely by excellence is juſt, commanded us; this is the peculiar diſtinction of the ſonnes of God, not onely to make no difficulty to remit offences, but even to recompence them with benefits.2 Theſ. 5. Videte nequis malū pro malo alicci reddat, &c. looke (ſayes the Apoſtle) that none of you requite evill for evill, but alwayes that which is good, purſue towards each other, and towards al • ; But our Saviour Chriſt in more expreſſe termes doth oblige us unto more perfection. Vobis dico qui auditis, • uke 6. &c. to you I ſay that doe heare me, love your enemyes doe good to them that hate you, and bleſſe thoſe who curſe you; and according as you will that men doe to you, doe you alſo the like to them againe. And, if you love them that love you, what thanks is it to you? for ſinners love thoſe who love them: and if you doe good to thoſe, who doe you good, what thanks is it to you? For ſinners alſo doe the like; but doe you love your enemies, and your reward ſhall be much, and you ſhal be Sonnes of the higheſt, becauſe himſelfe is beneficiall to the evill and ungratefull. This with good reaſon thou doſt enjoyne us, this with great liberality thou doſt promiſe us. But, O deere Lord, how many are there who will not heare thee? How many that care ſo little for thy Commandement, as their hates and lives have both but one period? They proteſt againſt that effeminate baſeneſſe, as they title it, to be eaſily perſwaded to put up a wrong. For their parts they ſhould account it their only felicity to repay the injurer in his owne coyn againe: and if Solomon-like they might be maſters of their wiſh, a hundred times rather than Wiſedome, they ſhould deſire Revenge. Theſe are they who never ceaſe to importune Almighty God: Da mihi Domine inimicorum meorum animas; Grant me, O Lord the ſoules of mine enemies; as for the reſt I referre it unto thee. This is the true ſpirit of revenge indeed, neither to regard the Law of God, nor to be terrified with his threats, to bee ſo far from putting up an injury, as to returne it as ſoone as it is offered them, at every light word to vent their choler, and when anger hath once ſtirred them up, to follow every impulſe of their enraged minds, ſeeking with all earneſtneſſe their enemies deſtruction. Haec ulciſcendi libido, according to Tertullian, negotium curat aut gloriae aut malitiae: ſed gloria ubique vana eſt, & malitia Domino odioſa; hoc quidem loco maxime, quia malum duplicat quod ſemel factum eſt. This luſt of vengeance doth labor either to ſatisfie its malice, or deſire of glory: for glory it is a meere vanity, and malice is an odious thing to Almighty God, eſpecially in theſe circumſtances where of a ſingle offence we make a double one. All the differene betwixt him who provokes unto an injury and him who is provoked, is onely this, that the one hath his hand firſt in miſchiefe, the other laſt, and both are alike guilty of offending God. For he counſailes us, when we are ſtrucken on the one cheek, preſently to offer the other, and not to deſiſt till we have tyred out our enemies malice with our patience: aſſuring our ſelves that ſo we ſhall annoy him more, than if wee put our ſelves upon our owne defence, ſince he for whoſe ſake we ſuffer all, will for our ſakes chaſtice him with deſerved puniſhment. Why then ſhould wee arrogate unto our ſelves the right of our defence, which God unto our greater glory hath reſerved unto himſelf? He is the undertaker for our patience; whoſoever truſts him with his wrongs, he will revenge them; with his loſſes he will redreſſe them; with his griefes he will remedy them; finally with his death, and he will reſtore him unto life againe.

BVt you will object with the Poet:Iuu. 1. Saty. Semper ego auditor tantum nunquam nè reponam Vexatus toties? Shall I bee ſtill a hearer vext ſo oft, and ne're requite them?

Never (deare Chriſtian) never, although a hundred, although a thouſand times, if thou wilt declare thy ſelfe a true Son of God, commit thy cauſe to him, and the while ſuffer,Baruch. 4. and be ſilent. Nocentes peribunt qui te vexaverūt & qui gratulati ſunt in tua ruina punientur: The wicked who have vexed thee ſhall periſh, and thoſe who rejoyced in thy ruine ſhall be puniſhed.Coloſ. 3. He who hath done an injury, ſhall be rewarded according to his miſdeeds. You will ſay perhaps, I am content to forgive mine enemy, but yet I will not forget the injurie, I will remember him. If this be all thy charity, be aſſured th • t God will requite thee with the like: Homo homini reſervat iram, & a Deo quoerit medelam? &c. M • n to man (ſaith the Son of Syrach, Eccl. 28. reſerveth anger, and doth hee ſeek for remedy of God? He hath not mercy of a man, like unto himſelfe, and doth he intreat for his own ſinnes? he, fleſh as he is, reſerveth anger, and doth he demand propitiation of God? Who ſhall obtain any thing for his ſin by prayer? It is but a vaine pretext of clemency to ſay, I will not revenge my ſelfe, but yet withall I wil not fo • ge the injurie; either give that which th • u reſolveſt to give, without any reſervation at all, or never expect by it to purchaſe heaven. You know what threatning language our Saviour uſes, Sic & Pater meus coeleſtis faciet vobis, Matth. 18. &c. So my heavenly Father will deale by you if each of you doe not forgive your brother from your hearts, &c. But you will ſay for my part I ſhould be ready enough to pardon him; neither am I ſo jealous for mine owne • onour; but that publike office which I ſuſtaſtaine is intereſt in it, that no injury offered to my private perſon do paſſe unpuniſhed. For Gods love, deare Chriſtians, let us not ſtand too much on ceremonies, in things which ſo nearely concerne our ſalvation; this is but a flouriſh of a few ayry words. Stephen was a publike officer as well as you, and yet we ſee hee was no wayes imboldned by it, to take up ſtones, and deale by his perſecutors as they dealt by him: neither did he ſuppoſe that any convenient courſe to defend his dignity, but with a moſt ſincere heart hee cryed out, Domine Ieſu ne ſtatuas illis hoc peccatum: O Ieſus doe not impute this ſin unto them. And ſo our crucified Lord, not onely as he was ſon of man, but of Almighty God, beſought his Father, even with teares, to pardon his enemies. Pater dimitte illis. No, there is no mortal creatures of ſo high a dignity to whom it can be any loſſe of reputation to forgive an injury, eſpecially if it concerne no other than himſelfe:Levit. 1 • non quaeras ultionem nec memoreris injuriae Civium tuorum, doe not ſeeke for vengeance not beare in minde the injuries of your owne Citizens. But you will ſay, he hath injured you without a cauſe. Had it not beene cauſeleſſe, it had been no injury; where both are alike faulty, neither are injured. But what doe I talke of cauſe? What cauſe did Ioſeph give unto his brethren in only making relation of his dreame? And yet afterwards being chiefe Governour of Egypt, in a generous kind of ſilence, he buried all offence. But this of yours is of exorbitant ſtrain. And wherefore all this exaggeration? If the offence were light, your reward for pardoning of it would be but ſmall. We can never riſe to any eminent degree of perfection, but by the way of ſuffering great injuries. Harken what St. H • erome ſaith in this particular: Deus faber eſt, S. Hier. in c. 5 Matth. inimici lima ſunt, & mallei, quibus nos ille expurgat Sanctoſque ſoulpit. God is the ſtatu • ry, and our enemies are his chiſſells and hammers, with which he poliſhes us, and m • kes us into Saints. H • th your enem • es ever ſtoned you, as they did Saint P • ul, or ſcourged and crucified you, as they did our Saviour Chriſt? But you will alledge you are noble, and he who injured you is but ſome baſe borne peſant ſome Son of the earth. O Samian Pot-ſheard art thou not of the ſame Clay (or little better) of which thine enemy is made? thou noble? if thou permits thy ſelfe once to be over come by this appe • ite of revenge, know thou art no longer the off-ſpring of a noble family; but the ſlave of ſinne. Wherefore be adviſed by the wiſe man: Memento noviſsimorum & define inimicari, Remember the laſt things,Eccl. 28. and ceaſe to bee at enmity. You will tell me, though you would never ſo faine forgive your enemy, yet you cannot overcome your ſelfe therein. The reaſon is, becauſe you will take no paines to get the victory I know that as long as you nouriſh grudgings in your m • ndes, all your thoughts which ariſe from thence, taſte of nothing but bitterneſſe, whilſt your boſome is no other but a nurcery of nettles, thornes, and bryars, with which your ulcerated Conſcience is ſtung, and ſmarts unto the very bloud. Doe you burne with deſire of revenge? haſte with all ſpeed to extinguiſh the flame, leaſt in debarring your owne entrance into heaven, you but accelerate the fire of hell, where you ſhall burne for all eternity. The ſuſtaining of injuries is the ga • es of heaven, and, qui vindicari vult, a Domino inveniet vindictam & peccata illius ſervans ſervabit; Eccl. 2 • . he who will be revenged, ſhall finde vengeance of our Lord, and with great obſervancy he will keep his ſinne. You can take no ſleep perhaps, nor have an appetite to any food, as long as you behold a Mardocheus ſitting ſecurely at the Pallace gate, as long as you ſee your enemy uncontrolled, conſpiring your ruine. How bravely we deceive our ſelves to our owne perdition? Ezekiel tells of cerraine Souldiers, qui poſuerunt gladios ſuos ſub capitibus ſuis, Ezek. 32. & deſcenderunt ad infernum cum armis ſuis, who layd their ſwords under their heads, and ſo deſcended together with their weapons into hell: behold a new manner of pillow, to ſleep on ſwords. And truely they take their reſt upon no other, who are ſo deſirous of revenge, as they never reſt but when they are fighting, quarrelling, harming of other men. In this manner Cain, that primitve diſciple of the Devill (as St. Baſil tearmes him) for no other end ſought his brothers deſtruction, but upon the ruine of his glory for to build his own, though the effect was far contrary to his expectation. Eſau found no place for any mercy, although hee ſought it with inſtancy of many tears: ſo Saul, Ad. Heb. 12 ſo Antiochus were ſhamefully repulſt even from the Altar of mercie, to which they fled; and that deſervedly, ſince they never ſpared any whom they held for enemies:Eccl. 28. Iudicium ſine miſericordia fiet illi qui uonfecerit miſericordiam, Hee ſhall have judgement paſſe upon him without any mercy, who hath not afforded mercy unto others; whereas King David redoubled his wickednes with a foul relapſe, and dyed his infamous Adultery in bloud, and yet he no ſooner began to ſhew himſelfe contrite, he had no ſooner pronounced theſe two ſhort words Peccavi Domino, 2 Kings 12. I have ſinned againſt the Lord, but he heard preſently from the mouth of the Prophet Nathan Dominus peccatum tuum tranſtulit. The Lord hath remitted your ſin. How often did Antiochus confeſſe that he had ſinned, and with grievous cries implore the Divine pitty, vowing offerings to the Temple, & promiſing for the time to come an intire converſion; and yet his petition never would be heard; and from whence proceeded this differeece of favour, but from their different carriages towards their enemies? For David wilſt he was inferiour to no King, in proweſſe and deeds of armes, was ſuperior unto all in pardoning his foes, inſomuch as he eſteemed revenge the moſt unworthy his dignity of all other crimes; whereas that other Tyrant behaved himſelf in more than hoſtile manner towards his own Citizens, breathing forth nothing but ſwords, fire, bloud, ſlaughter, and revenge.

O Chriſtians, and is Heaven then ſuch an odious thing as you muſt needs make ſuch impetuous haſte to hel? Do you not remember the dayly petition which you make, Et dimitte nobis debita noſtra, ſicut & nos dimittimus, And forgive us our treſpaſſes, as we forgive? Do you not perceive your obligation from hence, to love your enemy, under paine of binding your ſelfe unto the forfeiture, as often as you ſupplicate Almighty God to forgive you, as you forgive other men, when you do but ſay in a manner, For me, I am reſolved to pardon no man, but to take revenge on all, and perſecute them with implacable hatred to the death; wherfore do thou, O Lord if thou pleaſe, requite me with the like. No this is the language of the reprobate, the predeſtinate are of a far different ſtraine: it is impoſſible to provoke them by any injury beyond their cuſtom of interceding in this manner for their enemies; Father forgive them, and impute not this ſin unto them; for my part, I freely pardon them, I freely forgive them, without all thought of ever revenging it. This is the ſtile of the Predeſtinate. And here, before I draw to a concluſion, I would deſire to know of thee whoſoever readeſt this, and yet beareſt a grudge unto thine enemy in thy mind, whether thou believe all this to be true or no? without doubt you will not deny it, unleſſe you can believe the truth would conſpire with falſehood to deceive you, Chriſt with untruth. Suppoſing then that all is true, as moſt true it is, what impious contumacy is this in you? what obſtinate contempt of the Law of God? what preſumptuous contradicting of the will of Chriſt? Chriſt exhorts you with all earneſtneſſe to pardon, forgive, and love not only y ur friends, but even your enemies, be they whom they will; and yet doe you remaine obſtinate, yet doe you hate your foes? Will you yet afford them no forgiveneſſe? yet cannot you love thoſe who maliciouſly have detracted you? Doe you care ſo little for Chriſt, ſo little for Almighty God? doe you ſet ſo light by heaven, by your eternall ſalvation ſo light? cannot all this extort from you one ſuch word as this, ſeriouſly uttered, and proceeding from your heart: Ignoſco, dimitto, I pardon, I forgive, and beſeech Almighty God to doe the like, if perchance any have offended me? Yet doſt thou ſtand like a ſenceleſſe ſtatue, without all voyce and motion of forgiveneſſe? Yet out of that iron boſome of thine, doſt thou breath nothing but ſuch ominous ſounds as theſe: away with mine enemies, an evill death be with them, and all that is evill elſe? Yet doſt thou blow out nothing but revenge, death, and deſtruction againſt thine enemies? Is your hate of your enemies not yet extinguiſhed, doe you yet refuſe to o • ey the commandements of our Saviour Chriſt? If ſo, go with other Chriſtians your like, take what way you wil, you can never be out of it; one way or other you will arrive infallibly unto your journies end, the kingdom of everlaſting woe and wretchednes. Goe on confidently, blind-fold as you are, and aſſure your ſelves that every path you can take will lead you unto hell; the certain courſe you can take to arrive thither, is by miſtaking of yo • r way, in the mean while, hold this for certaine, Non poteſt amare Deum qui non ceſſat odiſſe inimicum, That he cannot love God, who ceaſeth not to hate his Enemie.

CHriſt having healed the Paraletick in the Goſpell,Iohn 5. commanded him to take up his bed and walk, which he performed inſtantly: & ſuſtulit grabatū ſuum & ambulabat. The occaſions of ſinning are firſt to be avoyded, and removed out of the way, and then we are to proceed to a moſt vertuous courſe of life The Prodigall-child being almoſt ſtarv'd with hunger ſaid, Surgam & ibo ad patrem meum. I will riſe, and goe to my Father. Neither did he onely ſay he would goe, but he went indeed; whereas we, for the moſt part, when it comes to this, through our owne negligence doe loſe both uſ • of hands and feet, we are onely active in words, nothing in deeds; mighty of our tongues and feeble of our hands; we bend the bow, but never ſho • t the arrow; we purpoſe much, but never performe any thing; we are ſorry when we are fallen i • to any ſin, but uſe no d • ligence in providing not to fall againe. And as thoſe who wiſh to have their wounds cured, but apply not the remedy, ſo we would avoyd the falling into ſins, but divert not the ſtream of affections which carries us towards them Age finds us ſtill procraſtinating, and ſeeking of delayes; our li • e haſtes away, whilſt we doe nothing, but purpoſe, and make faire promiſes, and is paſt before we put them in execution; when death arreſts us in midſt of our long purpoſes, and derides us for having conſumed ſo many yeares in reſolving what to do, without doing any thing Such an one was St Auguſtine once, but not long ſuch an one: he • id not diferre that till he was old, which no man can undertake too yong: Dicebam apud me intus, Ecce m • do fiat, 8 Conſ. c. 11. modo fiat: Et cum verbo jam ibam in placitum, jam pene faciebam, & non faciebam nec relabebar tamen in priſtina, ſed de p • oximo ſtabam, & r • ſp • rabam. Retinebant me nugae nugarum, & vanitates vanitatum antiquae • micae meae, & ſuccu • iebant veſtem me • m carneam & ſubmurm rabant: dimittis ne • os? I ſaid in my ſelfe (ſa • th he) behold I wil doe it ſhortly, and •• or • ly it ſhall be done. And having ſaid this, I was ſatisfied, I was even upon the poynt of performance, but performed nothing; yet I returned not wholly to my old cuſtomes again, but ſtood panting not far of. I was ſtayed and detained by thoſe old friends of mine, the toyes of toyes, and vanities of vanities; and ſhaking me by this ſame veſtment of fleſh, they muttered theſe words, Will you forſake us then? Yes truely he forſook you, and wholly diſcarded you, he ſhook off your intollerable yoke, and deteſted in ſuch manner the wayes of his former life, as he never thereafter ſet foot in them againe.

WE often undertake a better courſe of life, but we perſever not in it, and ſo whilſt we goe not forwards with our web, it unravels againe, and becomes as mi • hapen as it was before. We want not (as we may well ſuppoſe) many pious endevours, ho y thoughts, pure intentions, and wiſe deliberations; and in all which, wee are but like the Athenians, who enacted excellent lawes, but were ſtarke nought to urge them on to execution, or provide they might not be antiquated by the times abuſe. We preſcribe to ou • ſelves a moſt laudable courſe of life, and moſt conducing to our ſalvation, but at every little tediouſneſſe, and moleſtation we deſiſt from it; we fortifie our ſelves with many holy, and fiery purpoſes, but at th • firſt parley of our rebellious fleſh, at the firſt ſolicitation of our alluring enemy, ſeconded with others of that flattering crew, we render up our ſelves, and without any reſiſtance ſuffer our ſelves to be trailed into the filthy pu • dle of our former ſinnes, ſo unconſtant is o • r Repentance, and ſo little durable. O deare Chriſtian, thou haſt reſolved to lead a life moſt pure, to decline all occa • ons which may blemiſh it, to refrain thine eyes, the • ollicitors of luſt, and mortifie the unrulineſſe of thy fleſh, and thou doſt well therein. Thou beginneſt to deb • t thy tongue from miſ-beſeeming words; to harbour an averſion from reading laſcivious books. And all this very well Thou purpoſeſt to ſuppreſs thy anger, to moderate thy paſſions, to reject all enmity, and baniſh envy wholly from thy mind, and thou doſt excellent well. Thou reſolveſt to be more reſerved in ſpeech, to be ſilent whilſt others are detracted of, and patient when th • ſelfe art injured; and all this excell • nt well. But how far more excellent were it to remain ſtill conſtant to our purpoſes? whereas, alas how many are there, who yeſterday could bridle their tongues, containe their lubricities, ſuppreſſe their angers, and overcome themſelves, who to day are wholly effuſed on their former licentiouſneſſe, and in receiving againe the ſervile yoke of unruly luſt, and a licentious tongue, and giving the reines of their furious paſſions, become as very ſl • ves to vices as they were before It is no true repentanc, wihich is not ſtable, and permanent, but rather inconſtancy and light volubility of mind. We are like thoſe cowardly fencers, who at blunt can handle their weapons skilf lly, and make great flouriſhes, but being challenged to the field at ſharp, the glaunce of the naked weapons ſo dazles their eyes, as they run daſtardly away, and expoſe their backs to thoſe wounds which make them fearefully turne away their face. We are like unexpert foot men, who at their firſt ſetting out do keep a mighty adoe, ut they are preſently all in a ſweat, and forced to take up, b • fore they have halfe run the race. How often doe we undertake matters of great conſequence, which we begin lauda • ly, and for a time hopefully pro •• cute, until • by degrees wee languiſh, afterwards come to fall, and at th • len • th lye groveling all along? That • ice makes vaine oſtentation of bloſſoms, which onely promiſes fruit, b t never produces any; That Architect lays but a bootleſſe foundation on which he never ra • ſeth a building up; and what doth it availe a Mariner to hoiſe up ſayle, weigh Anchor, and betake him to the ſterne, if he never put to ſea, or elſe make for land againe, as ſoon as he is out of the havens mouth? And what do we but lay the foundation with this Architect, and never goe forward with the building we have in hand? Begin our Exordium with t • e Oratour, but rarely come to our peroration? Set Saile with the Mariner but for every little blaſt, ſtand for the harbour againe: What have we more frequently in our mouths, than I will amend my manners, I will reclaim my life, and yet, what is leſſe ſeriouſly performed? Straight from the receiving of the Sacraments we ſtart out couragiouſly towards the Goale, but before we have runne halfe way, we faint and lay us downe for wea • ineſſe. When none can diſcerne in us any memoriall of good purpoſe we ever had, or of that ſacred refection; ſo mindfull we are ſtill of injuries, ſo forgetfull of what we piouſly reſolved; ſo as with good reaſon Polybius ſaith, Man is accounted the wiſeſt of all animated things, bu • for my part I hold him the fooliſheſt of all: for other Animals are ever wary after they have once received harme: The Fox is never taken in the ſame Gin againe: the Wolfe ſhuns the pi • -f • ll, the dog a cudgell the ſecond time; but onely man is ſo unwary, ſo oblivious a thing, as from time to to time be falls moſt commonly into the ſame ſins againe.

GOd complaines by the Prophet • ſaiah, Non poſuiſti haec, &c. Thou haſt not taken this to heart, Iſaiah 4 • . n • ither remembred the lateſt things; and I have ſ • id, even when thou haſt committed all this, returne unto me, and ſhe hath not returned: Repentance, (ſaith St. Bernard) without amendment • vails us nothin • ; For if one build an edifice, and another demoliſh it, what obtaine they but their labour for their paine:Eccl. 34. Qui enim baptizatur à mortuo, &c. For he who is w • ſh • d from the dead, and toucheth him againe, what doth his waſhing benefit him? True repentance goes ever accopanyed with amendment; when gluttony is ſtinted, luxury amortized, • ride depreſſed, and our bodies ſubjec • ed unto holineſſe, whi • h were before ſlaves of iniquity. And all this wee promiſe faithfully to execute; and yet a day ſcarcely paſteth, ſometimes not an houre, before all our promiſes are forgot, and wee returned to our f • rmer bent againe: And what Iſaiah doth ſo much deplore, of a wholſome ſadneſſe, we make our meriment, Venite ſumamus vinum, Iſaiah 56. & impleamur ebrietate, & erit ſicut hodie, ſic & cras, & multò amplius, Come give us ſome wine, and let us take our fill of drunkenneſſe, as we doe to day, ſo let us tomorrow, and that with advantage. We are juſt of Pharaohs condition, for he, as ſoon as he perceived the raine, haile, and thunder to be paſſed over, began to ſinne more licen • iouſly than before; ſo we, after we have obtained remiſſion for our former ſins, doe commonly fall into more grievous ones. How often doe we ſeeme Lambs in the morning, and become Lyons before night, wearing Tygres natures, mask • d under humane ſhapes? How often doe we appeare Angels when we riſe, and yet before th • evening becom • ſcarcely men? So often we change viz • rds, and moſt commonly the moſt ugly is that which beſt pleaſeth us. And thus of veſſels of glory, alas, with too frequent change, and viciſſitude, we become the veſſel • s of ignominy and ſhame: Sicut autem aegrotantes, Hom. 3. ap po • . (ſaith Chryſoſtome) niſi ſemper ordinate vixerint nulla ipſis diſcidiſciplinae per tres aut quatuor dies ſervatae utilitas, ſic & peccantes niſi ſemper ſobrii ſint, nihil prod • rit ipſis duorum, aut trium dierum correctio. As infi • me perſons, unleſse they have lived orderly before, receive no ben • fit by temperating themſelves onely for a day or two: ſo unleſse ſinners doe get a habite of maturity, the amendment of three or foure dayes will nothing profit them. Have you not marked young Chickens, how whilſt they are ſtragl • ng up and downe to pick up wormes, and flies, the Kite ſo • ring aloft, ſingles out one of them, and ſtooping ſuddainly ſnatches it away with her, when all the reſt runne c • ying to hide themſelve under their mothers wings; but not being able long to containe themſelves there, they muſt out againe, and utterly unmindfull of their former danger, they are all diſperſed, as buſie as before; when the Kite watching its opportunity againe, ketches up another, and flyes away with it: then in as grear a fright as they were before, they flock again unto their feathery refuge; where after they have lurked a while, all their feare and danger is forgot again, and ſo they ſally out, and meet with the like encounters, ſo long, untill the poor d • m have never a Chicken left: even juſt in this manner death doth play with us; h • re he ſeizeth upon a neighbour, there on a kinſman, o • neere friend of ours, whoſe loſſe, in that ſo ne • re a blow hath reference to our ſelves, not without reaſ • n, mak s us tremble and lament, and ſeriouſly bethink our ſelves of amending our lives; but how long do h this terrour, theſe lamentations laſt? Some day or two, and then we pu • ſue our wonted traines againe, and forgetting wholly our ſorrow and heavineſſe, we burſt forth into immoderate laughter, and our old rio • ouſnes, we ſeek out unjuſt wayes to thrive, we return to our owne forſworne intemperance, and all our other circular vices, effuſing our ſelves with unreſtrayned licentiouſneſſe, on the accuſtomed exceſſes, of our paſſed life, and ſo long we continue in this dead ſecurity, untill death with its cold hand doth gripe our hearts, and make our eyes run with the laſt teares wee ſhall ever ſhed. Then that will onely profi • us which we have done, and to wiſh to have done this or that, will availe us nought: Then our moſt of comfort will bee to remember that which coſt us moſt paine to effect it. But we neither ſufficiently credit our ſelves, nor others, in poynt of this verity: to day we conceive a deteſtation of our ſinnes, and to morrow commit the like, or more grievous ones againe, dallying in this manner with Almighty God, when we have ſcarſely waſhed away one ſin, with repentant teares, but we commit another worthy of as many more, connecting (as it were that chain of iniquity, which Iſaiah the Prophet ſo condoles,Iſaiah 5. and yet ſo menaceth withal. Vae qui trahitis iniquitatem in funibus, & quaſi vinculum plauſtri peccatū. Even ſo we adde ſin to ſin, and for the moſt part, the latter more enormious than the firſt: ſo we are alwaies inclining unto the worſe, like Antiochus Epiphanes, of whom it was ſaid, That he was a good child, an ill youth, and a wicked man. By the addreſſe of Repentance and Confeſsion being delivered from our ſins, wee are fervent for the firſt week after, the ſecond we grow tepid, and the third wax wholly cold; inſomuch, as loſing all ſpirit, we become dead againe. O men, more changeable than the Moon, who not onely every moneth, but every week, nay often every day have their increaſe, waine, exceſses, and defects! How many tides doe dayly ebbe and flow within the Euripus of a narrow breaſt? How often from fruitfull Olives doe we degenerate into wild and ſavage plants? O volubility, O inconſtancy of ours, more variable than fortune it ſelfe, which when it ceaſeth to be good, onely by degrees, at leaſt becommeth bad.Prov. 11. Impius facit opus inſtabile, The worke of the impious is unconſtant and wavering.

But on the contrary, the pathes of the juſt are like a reſplendant light, Procedit, Prov. 4. & creſcit uſque ad perfectum diem, which gains of the skie encreaſes to a perfect day. The Predeſtinate have ſuch a horror from any ſin, as they wholly break of all commerce with it, thy know how dangerous a thing it is, to dally in this manner with Almighty God, to repent us of one ſin to day, and to morrow to commit others, to repent afreſh. They never remember without hearty ſorrow, on what guilty tearmes they once ſtood with Almighty God; not forget how hamouſly then they offended him; which is our onely efficatious way to obtaine grace and favour of Almighty God, who then forgets himſelfe offended by us, when we with ſorrow remember our offence.

IN Cities according to the principal clock the common ones uſe ordinarily to be ſet, and why likewiſe ſhould not the wills of every man conforme themſelves like little clocks, unto the great celeſtiall one onely, the Will of Almighty God? Sicut fuerit voluntas in coelo, ſic fiat. As the Will ſhall be in heav • n, ſo let it be. It is incredible how • ratefull unto God is ſuch an act as this. God congratulated with himſelfe, as for ſome extraordinary happineſſe: Inveni David filium leſſe virum ſecundum cor meu • , qui faciet omnes voluntares meas, I have found David the ſonne of l • ſſe, a man according to mine owne heart, who performes my will in every thing. God had long ſought for ſuch a man, he layd wayt for one of that mind and diſpoſition, who in all occurrences ſhould propoſe unto himſelfe, no other aime than the performing of his wil; and having found ſuch an one, even like one overjoyed, our moſt bountifull father cryes out, I • veni qui faciet omnes voluntate • meas I have found him who will doe my will in every thing. And t • is was the reaſon why the Son of God was ſo exact himſelfe in fulfilling his fathers will: Deſcendide coelo non ut faciam voluntatem meam ſed voluntatem ejus, Iohn 6. q i miſit me. I have deſcended from h aven, not to doe mine owne will, but the will of him who ſent me From the rule of this direct and ſoveraigne Will, they are but too farre ſwarved, who not onely not obey at a beck, but ever ſtir not for its abſolute command;Prov. 14. Sapiens timet & declinat a malo, ſtultus tranſilit & confidit, the wiſe man feares and ſo eſcapes evill, whilſt the foole is confident and boldly leaps into it. And this is as the Scripture ſayes,Prov. 30. comedere ac tergere os & dicere non ſum operatus malum, to eate and wipe their mouth clean againe, and ſay I have done no harm. Thoſe who are of this mind do but laugh whilſt they engage their ſoules unto the devill; they loſe their part of heaven, and do not feele the loſſe, as accounting it but a light and triviall one.

BVt on the contrary, the predeſtinate doe lay ſo ſure a foundation of vertue in their minds, that they conceive a horror from all kinde of offence, and from the leaſt ſhadow of any ſin, & never conſent to take pleaſure in that which may be diſpleaſing to Almighty God, but they put on this firme reſolution to perform that which may be moſt acceptab • e unto God, although thereby they ſhould incurre the diſpleaſure of all the world Thither they bend all their thoughts, and hence all diſcourſe is derived, neither may we doubt, but from their inflamed wills with greater ardor then Ep • ctetus did, they will burſt forth into theſe lowder exclamations, O my God, and my love, farre be it from me, that I ſhould not ever have the ſame will with thee: no, no, my will is thine, or rather indeed I have no will lo • ger of mine owne, ſince all I have is thine. And now of neceſſity I muſt f • llow thy wil, ſince it is all I have. I neither doe, nor ought to deſire any thing, O my God, but that which pleaſeth thee. Is it thy pleaſure then that I be ſick? then be it ſo; or poore? and that too; to endure much paine? and that; wouldſt thou have mee ſuffer contumelies and injuries? I am reſolved to be deſpiſed and contemned, although it would touch me to the quick, I am prepared; wilt thou deprive me of all ſolace and delight? I am reſolved to be perplext in minde, although it ſhould laſt to the • orlds e • d, I am content; wilt thou bereave me of all that a hich I moſt affect? although it is moſt hard to depart with that we love, yet I likewiſe will, ſince thou wilt have it ſo; wilt thou have me dye? of all difficile things, this is moſt difficile, and yet I ſhould not refuſe to dye a thouſand times, ſo I might • ut breath my laſt in the dea • e armes of thy moſt ſacred will: and that a violent death? In ſpight of nature I would embrace it too: w • lt thou have me a Saint in Heaven? O my God, it is my hearts deſire; or a damned ſoule in Hell? • las ſweet • eſus if ever thou hadſt beene ſo minded, it had beene done, ſince I have deſerved it, but it is apparant it is a •• ing thou never deſireſt, ſince thou ſhedſt thine owne pretious bloud to hinder it. But yet if it were poſsible (as it cannot be) and I might have my choyſe whether thy will ſhould be tra • ſgreſſed, and I a Saint in heaven, or elſe I damned, and thy bleſſed will fulfilled, O my God, I ſhould make no difficulty to conclude, that it were farre better for mee to be damned, than thy will left undone. But, O thou ſoveraign goodneſſe, I am ſure thou deſireſt not my death, ſince thou waſt pleaſed that thine owne Son ſhould dye, to the end that I might live I beſeech thee therefore, O heavenly father, for the moſt hitter death of that onely Son of thine, that thou wouldſt preſerve mee from eternall death Look upon thoſe wounds, looke upon that bloud which for my ſake was ſacrificed, when to ſpare thy ſervant, thou wouldſt not ſpare thy ſonne. Behold me thy humbleſt ſervant, O thou immortall • ing at the leaſt ſigne of thy good pleaſure, ready at thy command; all that, ſhall be moſt gratefu • unto mee which proceeds from vertue of thy holy will; Paratum cor meu • , Deus, paratum, Pſal. 127. cor meum, my heart, my God, is prepared, my heart is ready. Such ſervants as theſe their heavenly maſter hath in high eſteem, who with ſuch a vigilant eye obſerve every leaſt ſigne of his ſacred pleaſure, as they make it no other than a law to theirs. And with a chearefull countenance are ever ready to ſay, Dominus eſt, quod bonum eſt in oculis faciat, &c. Hee is our Lord, let him doe that which is beſt pleaſing in his eyes, for there is nothing better than to have regard to Gods Commandements.

THE Grecians doe commend that celebrated ſaying of theirs, ne quid nimis, not too much of any thing; but thou, O Lord, haſt expreſſely commanded, mandata tua cuſtodiri nimis, that thy commandements ſhould be very much obſerved. God would have all his ſervants ſo ready and prompt at every command of his, at every beck, as they ſhould never paſſe a day, no not ſo much as that whereon they ſhould ſuffer the greateſt affliction, without repeating over this ſhort ſentence a thouſand times both in heart and mouth, quod vult Deus fiat, be it as it pleaſes God; and by this meanes the will of men ſo vertuouſly diſpoſed becomes to be the will of God himſelf, ſince they hold themſelves conſtant to this reſolution, never to will any thing which may be diſpleaſing to his Divine Majeſty; whence it comes that whatſoever they deſire, they obtaine, ſince they deſire nothing elſe than onely to conforme themſelves to the will of God, as knowing that to be moſt true which St. Hierome writeth unto Paula upon the occaſion of Blella's death. God is good, (ſaies he) and therefore of neceſſity being ſo good as he is, al muſt be likewiſe good, which he ordaines; neither can men of God receive any thing in ill part, which is proceeding from ſo good a God. Are they in health? they render than • s then to their Maker for it; are they diſeaſed? even in this they acknowledge and praiſe their Makers will; are they deprived of their deareſt friends? they cannot but bewayle ſo ſad an accident, but yet in remembring that God hath diſpoſed it ſo, they beare their loſſes with an equall mind; hath death raviſhed away an onely child? a loſſe how ever grievous, yet to be ſuſtained, ſince he who lent it, demands it back againe; are they overtaken with extreame poverty, or more grievous infirmity, afflicted to be contemned, and opprobriouſly dealt withall, ſubiect to a thouſand inluries and ſcornes? For all this you ſhall never haare them utter other words, but sicut Domino placuit, ita factum eſt, ita bene factum, etiam in hoc laudetur Deus. God hath done as it pleaſed him, and thrrefore hee hath done well, for which cauſe even in this be he likewiſe bleſſed and prayſed; Benedictus Deus in aeternum, God be bleſſed for ever. Whoſoever are faſtned to God, as by an Anchor with ſuch a Will as this, doe awayt their lateſt houre with all ſecurity, and account all misfortunes in the meane time for ſhort, which with ſo fortunate an end are to be cloſed up.

BLeſſed are thoſe (ſayes St. Auguſtine) who make peace within themſelves who ſo governe all the motions of their mind as to render them obſequious unto reaſon; and bleſſed are thoſe who in ſubduing the concupiſcences of their fleſh, become the Kingdome of Almighty God, where the mind enjoyes an abſolute dominion, the corporall ſenſes bring all in due ſubordination, and as inferiour ſerv • nts no wayes reſiſting to that ſuperiour power This is that peace which the Angels proclaimed at Chriſts Nativity, to which nevertheleſſe none can attaine, but by warre and violence. Hence it is, that God delivered the Commandements to Moſes, at the ſound of warlike Trumpets, when we ſhould imagine that ſoft and harmonious muſick ſhould have better ſympathized with thoſe religious Rites to which the lawes had peculiar reference; that trumpets had more proportion with warres, than with the Church. But ſo it is (deare Chriſtians) we are drawne forth into the field, we are preſt unto the wars by this our heavenly Law-giver, neither can any truely obſerve his Lawes, who refuſes to fight againſt thoſe who impugne them. None can overcome their fleſh by cheriſhing it, none without a battaile conquer he tempting enemy, or the frowns or ſmiles of the inconſtant world: We are to hold every affectio • for an enemy, which the adverſaries of the divine Law ſhall oppoſe againſt us, and as ſuch reſiſt it with our uttermoſt power. He that is offended at his crimes, and yet favours his paſſions, doth but lop the branches from an evill tree, whilſt hee permits the root to furniſh the ſtock with moſſe. St. Chryſoſtome in pondering theſe words of our bleſſed Saviour; qui viderit mulierem ad concupiſcendam illam, &c. He who ſhall behold a woman to luſt after her, hath already committed adultery with her in his heart, ſayes, non modo morbum, ſed & morbi radicem evellit Chriſtus, &c. Chriſt doth not onely take away the diſeaſe, but even the root thereof. The root of adultery is this evill of concupiſcence, and ſo together with adultery he condemnes the mother of it, concupiſcence. In like manner, he doth not onely prohibite murther, but likewiſe anger which provokes us to it, and the firebrands of anger, opprobrious ſpeech. Of all paſſions two of the moſt vehement are love & anger, & without extream rigor never to be reſtrain'd. Gentlenes & mild perſwaſion can doe no good with them; and as for anger it doth not importune the mind like other vices, but carries it away headlong with it. Who would deſire to wound his enemy on that condition to leave his hand incorporate in the wound, and not be able to withdraw it backe? and yet ſuch is the n • ture of anger to engage us ſo farre as we can never come clearely off againe. It will not ſtick at any wickedneſſe, and whoſoever it hath deſigned to ſtrike at with its thunder, it is never appeaſed, till it have diſcharged upon him a deadly wound. He whom it rules is like the ſtone called Pyrites, which is ſet on fire whereſoever you ſtrike it with the flint.Prov. 29. An angrie man provokes quarrells, and he who is apt to take exceptions, will be the readier to ſinne. Wrath and anger are execrable things, and there is ſcarſely any plague hath coſt mankinde ſo deare, for Vtrum ſtultum interficit iracundia, & parvulum occidit in vidia. Anger killeth the foole, and envie murdereth the little one. Wherefore, deare brethren (ſayes St. Auguſtine) ne obſecro tantum malum nobis inducamus, Lib. 4. de Civit. Dei. c. 6. &c. I beſeech you let us not call ſuch a plague upon our ſelves, the ſoules ſicknes, the night of reaſon, an alienation from God, oblivion of frendſhip, the overture of war, the plenitude of calamity, & the worſt of devills; which is the more warily to be avoyded, more it infects with its dayly incurſions. In omnes perſonas hic ardeſcit affectus, tam ex amore • ſcitu • quam ex odio, non minus inter ſeria, quam inter luſus & jocos; nec intereſt ex quam magna cauſa naſcitur, ſed in qualem proveni at animum: ſic ignis, non refert quam magnus, ſed quo incidat, nam arida ſcintillam quoque fovent uſque ad incendium. Sen. Ep. • 8. This paſsion (ſayes Seneca) conceives a heat burning againſt all ſorts of perſons, and is begotten as well out of love as hate, no leſs from ſerious buſineſses than ſports and meriment: neither are we ſo much to regard from what cauſe it ariſes, as into what boſome it lights: for ſo it makes no matter how great the fire be, but where it takes, ſince any dry thing will nouriſh, even a ſparke till it waxe a mighty fire. But (ſayes hee in another place) there is nothing yet ſo hard and difficile, which the mind of man cannot overcome, and there are no paſſions ſo head-ſtrong and violent which cannot bee reſtrained by sk lfull managing,L • der • . c. 1 • quodcunque ſibi imperavti animus obtinuit, let but the mind abſolutely command, and it will obtaine any thing. What a happineſse were it then to be delivered from ſuch mighty evills, as anger with frenzy, rage and cruelty, furiouſneſs and other the like paſſions with which it ever goes accompanyed.

THat which this wiſe Roman ſaid of anger, we may alſo apply to pride and envy, thoſe two ordinary furies which hant humane breaſts, as likewiſe to thoſe equall ſiſters in wickednes; and to conclude, to all the other crew of vicious affections. And ſay, what a happines were it, to be delivered from ſuch maine evills, and have our mind compoſed to a bleſsed tranquillity to a certaine harmony, and concordance of all our copidities? He therefore is bleſsed, who is the leſse indulgent of liberty to his affections, the more free hee deſires to bee himſelfe from vices ſervitude, who to ſecure reaſons dominion in him, crucifies his unruly paſſions. For Gally-ſl • ves they have ſome ceſsation from labour, ſome time, though never ſo ſhort allotted them to reſt; but thoſe who are ſlaves to their affections doe never enj • y any reſt, but their mind is in continual agitation, by the turbulent motions of their reſtleſse thoughts. Servietis diis alienis die ac nocte, Hier. 16. qui non dabunt vobis requiem, you ſhall ſerve ſtrange Gods day and night, which will not give you reſt. And therefore the ſonne of Syrach adviſes us, poſt concupiſcentias tuas non eas, Eccl. 18. doe not follow thy concupiſcence; but as a head-ſtrong horſe is to be reined hard, and one that is ready, pricked on with the ſpurre; ſo wee are to manage our affections, by urging ſome, whilſt, for the moſt part, we do curb the reſt. None can more truely hate himſelfe, than hee who loves himſelfe with ſuch a pernicious love, as becomming by it wholly diſſolved in voluptuouſneſse, he is neither able to obtaine any thing of himſelfe, or deny himſelfe any thing. Let ſuch as theſe conſider what the Apoſtle preſages of them:Rom. 8. Si ſ • cundum carnem, &c. If you live acco ding to the fleſh, (ſaies he) you ſhall dye, but if you ſhall mortifie the works of the fleſh, you ſhall live. The command of ones ſelfe is the greateſt Empire as man can aſpire unto, & conſequently to be ſubject to our paſſions the moſt grievous ſlavery; neither is there any triumph more glorious, then that of the victory obtained of our ſelves, where whilſt the conflict is but ſhort, the reward ſhall ever laſt. He overcomes his affections, who refuſes to ſerve them, and he ſerves them, ſaith S. Ambroſe, Quicun que metu frangitur, vel delectatione, Li. 2. de Iac. & vita beata irretitur, vel cupitatibus ducitur, vel indignatione exaſperatur, vel maerore d •• icitur: whoſoever is diſmayed by feare, enthralled by pleaſure, inve • gled with deſires, exaſperated by offfences, or dejected with ſadnes. Neither is there any viler ſervitude, according to Seneca than that which is voluntarily undergone, Ep. 47. where one ſerves his luſt, another his avarice, a third ambition. A good man (as witneſſes Saint Auguſtine) albeit hee ſerve, is free, whereas a wicked, although hee be a Monarch, is a ſlave, and that not to one man alone, but (what is more intollerable) to as many Maſters as he hath vices. The deſires of men are as various as their viſages, and outward lineaments; and even as in thoſe among men of the ſame kinde, there is ſtrange diverſity, ſo is there no leſſe in the affections and propenſions of our mind: here one burnes in the fire of concupiſcence, another is led captive in golden chains, a third conſumed with envy, this by drinking deſtroyes his health, this too much given to gamning, and this to idleneſſe, the whilſt, none will ever be perſwaded, (as if one could not be drowned aſwell in wine as water) that their ruin can ariſe from thence, where they have placed their chiefe felicity. Saint Gregory ſayes excellently well,Lib. 4. in Reg. c. 4. Reprobae menti valde placet quod concupiſcit, ſed in aeterna poena quod ei modo eſt dulce amareſcet. A reprobate minde is pleaſed above meaſure with its owne deſires, but that which now is ſo ſvveet unto it, will afterwards to its eternall paine be changed into bitterneſſe. Dan. 13. O wretch, thou art deceived with ſpecious ſhew, and deſire hath ſubverted thy heart, and made thee long after fleeting waters, with a fruſtrated appetite. What felicity can a man receive frō his libidinouſnes, which according to St. Ambroſe doth burne us worſe than a feaver, farre more inflame us, & ſooner caſt us downe; Febre libido flagrantior eſt, graviuſque inflammot, & praecipitat; but when that violent heat is aſſwag • d, when the fit is paſt, then the eyes of our conſcience doe open, and a man becomes all confounded and aſhamed at the uglineſs of his reproachfull fact; then he ſtands in dread of Almighty God, and faine, if he knew how would hide his guilty head; but in vaine, for the deformity is ſo manifeſt, and all ſecrets lye unfolded before Almighty God, and therefore the thought of judgement doth ſtrike him into horror, out of the conſcience of his ſelfe-guiltineſſe. And what is the thirſt of wealth, but a notorious ſpur to every wickedneſſe, which is rather more provoked than quenched by poſſeſſing that which it deſires; which torments the minde no leſſe with ſollicitude of that it enjoyes, than that it wants? And whereas all other vices grow old with man, this then becomes moſt youthfull and vigorous. Hate and envy are two importunate evills, which unleſſe you kill (as it were) in the cradle, there is little hope of overcomming them thereafter with that facility as you doe other affections. As for gluttony, thoſe who ſerve it have a pernicious miſtris of it, which the more obſequiouſly you ſerve, the more inſolent it growes, and by reaſon of its neare affinity with laſciviouſnes, in humouring and feeding it, you doe but nouriſh an enemy of Chaſtity. Who then is there, and we will give him deſerved praiſe, who can juſtly glory wi h holy Tobias, Tob. 3. mundam ſervavi animam meam ab omni concupiſcentia, I have preſerved my ſoule pure from all concupiſcence? Such a ſoule were like a Lute indeed, with all its ſtrings in tune.