IT was much folly in the Stoicks, to hold that all sinnes were equall, none of a greater stain or poy­son then another; but 'tis stupidity in the Papists, to make the gap so wide as to affirm, some to be veniall onely, and the other mortall; If the Pa­pists were in the right, then every soule which sin­neth should not dye, Ezek. 11.20. if the Stoicks, then should it not have been ea­sier for Sodom and Gomorrah, then for that City: Mat. 10.15. Every sinne doth [Page 2] lineam transilire (as Cicere expresses it) is a transgression of the Law, and that is death; then none is veniall; thus the Papists erre: and if every sinne is a transgression of the Law, then Longè progredicum semel transieris, auget transeundi culpam (as the same Orator:) and rea­son tells us, the growth and continuance of sinne make an inequa­lity, and thus the Stoicks erre.

Nay, every vertue being a quality, hath its latitude, whose medi­um is not [ [...]] a strict Arithmeticall meane, but [ [...]] a Geometricall meane, which proportionably va­ries its distance according to the diversity of circumstances: Arist, E­thie. 2. What differences then and disproportions are there between vices, which are therefore vices because they have no mean? Yes (doubtlesse) an ill suggestion quickly stifled is not so bad as that which is nourisht into a thought, nor this thought as bad as such a one, which growes up into the mouth, and breakes out in words; nor this neither so sinnefull, as that which sets the head a plotting, and the hand a wor­king mischiefe; nor this plotted, active mischiefe so black and sin­full, as a wicked habit wallowed and delighted in; nor hath this wicked habit so much death and wormwood in it, as when it is swoln to such a bulk, come to such a non ultra as to be boasted of; for lower then this canst thou not sinke, unlesse thou sinkst into hell and takest Iobs wifes advice, cursest God and dyest. Again, not to love and pray for our enemies is a very sinne, a breach of our Saviours in­junction, Mat. 5.44. but a greater sinne is it to withhold our love and pray­ers from Gods best Children, and holiest servants; but worser is it to hate them; but yet farre worser, to be an instrument of their ruine; but worst of all, (and horror to imagine) to triumph that thou wast thus mischievously imployed, to boast that thou didst hatch the plot that ruind them, dischargedst the Cannon that tore them, madest the pill that poysoned them, wast a Doeg (a knight of the Post) which didst accuse and butcher them. Lastly, of all sinnes, pride and boa­sting have the blackest brand, and of all boastings a boasting in mis­chiefe; and of all boastings in mischiefe, a boasting (O thou migh­ty man, or) that thou art mighty in mischiefe Well then may Da­vid in wonder and amazement, or I in his person, aske Saul the per­secutor, or Doeg his informer, and executioner, his bloody mislea­ding instrument, or any other incarnate Devill peremptorily trium­phing in the blood or fall of Gods people, Why dost thou boast thy selfe O mighty man in mischiefe? the goodnesse of the Lord en­dures [Page 3]for ever. This paraphrase for the explanation of the words. Take another, whereby wee may know the occasion of them.

David was now an innocent persecuted Dove (as you have the History, (1 Sam. 21, 22.) who willingly would have returned with an Olive branch in his mouth, for hee sought peace, but they would have warre Psal. 120.7. Wherefore finding the floods still up, the waves encompassing him on every side, which made him afraid Psal. 18.4. And having no quiet place, no whereto rest his foot on, he returnes like Noahs Dove to the Arke, betaked himself to Abimeleth the Priest of the Lord for advice and succour; who beleeving him fast both to God and the King (though the king was not pleased to think so) did not stick, in case of necessity, to break a ceremony, gives him the hallow­ed bread and Goliahs sword: But see the mischiefe, the Devill (as u­sually it falls out) had sent a Doeg (who even in Gods Temple was his Chappell) to gather pretence of slander and death against them, who presently carries and aggravates the businesse to Saul; Saul being be­fore heated, was now on fire, turn'd his former rage into madnesse, (so quickly doth a bloody tyrannicall nature kindle at the least hint) he forth with sends for Abimelech, and making his will his Law, becomes himself: both the accuser and the Iudge, and makes Doeg his informer his speedy executioner, who forth with falls on Abimelech, and for the reliefe he afforded the Lords servant and his own faithfull subject, ruines both him, his family and City. Had not David then, think you, just cause to be thunder-struck at the confident and peremptory proceeding of the tyrant Saul, or his bandog Doeg, and in amaze­ment to cry out, Why doest thou boast thy selfe O mighty man in mis­chief? the goodnesse of the Lord endures for ever. This the occasion of the words.

I will not raise a quarrell by telling you how Expositors wrangled and are divided about my text, how they turn and alter both the sense and words, because though they ring as it were changes on them, and set the words severall wayes, yet (like skilfull Musitians) they keep the Musick still sweet, and the tune good. Notwithstanding I should much wonder how the Papists so constant to their old Translation, which they call St. Hieromes, should here leave it and follow the Sep­tuagint, did I not know they gladly take any occasion to baulk the Originall. The words are, as you already guesse, a Question by way of admiration, Why dost thou boast thy selfe O mighty man in mischiefe? [Page 4]and the ground or reason of that question [for the goodnesse of the Lord endures for ever.] The Question naturally and of it self falls into these 3. Questions:

• 1. Why dost thou boast thy selfe?
• 2. Why dost thou boast thy selfe in mischiefe?
• 3. and lastly, Why dost thou boast thy selfe in mis­chief O thou mighty man?

or that thou art mighty in mischief? all which the ground and reason of the generall Question doth make good; and severally answer: so that the burden of the 136. Psalme might very well be the burden and keeping of my discourse; Thus:

• 1. Why dost thou boast thy selfe in any thing? for the mercy of the Lord en­dures for ever: whatsoever thou hast, 'twas his mercy that gave it thee, and 'tis the enduring of his mercy that continues it.
• 2. More especially I wonder, Why thou dost boast thy selfe in mischiefe, glory in thy shame, to see thee thus daring I am at a losse, scarce my self, for know again, the mercy of the Lord endures for ever: 'tis the enduring, the continuance of his mercy that thou art not blasted in the midst and heat of thy pride and mischiefe.
• 3. I most especially wonder, why thou dost boast in mischiefe O thou mighty man, or that thou art mighty in mischiefe; to see thee so desperate I leave to be man, have almost as little of reason in me as thou hast of God; for once more know, that the mercy of the Lord endures for ever: notwithstanding the blood and Crosse of the Saints be thy thirst and pride, yet know, as for Israel, as for them, the Lord of Hoasts, the Lord is their memoriall, the great and constant love of God will in the fittest time relieve his sheep and repay their wrongs.
  Hos. 12.5.

But I must suit my discourse to the sad occasion of our meeting, nor will the short warning for my medita­tions, or the scantling of time allowed me for their delivery, suffer me to be thus exact. For the generall Question broken into these parti­culars doth justly challenge more then an houre for the handling of each of them severally. At this time therefore onely of the 2. former Questions. And (truth is) I have been therefore the larger in para­phrasing and opening the words, that you might be the better conten­ted to give me leave to deferre the last Question to some other oppor­tunity. Now for the first Question, besides the ground and Reason in the Text, which (to speak truly) doth more properly make good the two other Questions; we have 3. other grounds and reasons, accor­ding to which this 1. Question will also multiply. The 1. ground and reason is the lownesse, weaknesse and nothingnesse (as I may so speak) of the party boasting, whether Saul, Doeg, or any other; and then the 1. Question will be, Why doest thou poore, fraile, nothing man why [Page 5]dost thou boast thd selfe? The 2. ground and reason is the uncertain­ty, emptinesse, and vanity of that which necessarily must be the sub­ject of self-boasting; and then our 2. Question will be, Of what doest thou boast thy selfe? The 3. and last ground and reason, is the fond­nesse and foolery of the end of self-boasting, viz. the froathy applause of the giddy multitude; and thus our 3. and last Question will be, To which end dost thou boast thy selfe? Of these in their order, and first of the first, Why dost thou poore, fraile, nothing man, why dost thou boast thy selfe?

Quest. 1 If we truly weigh our selves, what have wee which might either justifie a fooles boast, or tempt a wise mans? No creature doth it selfe so little good when first it comes into the world, nor so much harme, whilst it continues in it, as man: Caetera animalia mihi natur â potiùs quàm ratione artem aliquam exercere videntur, ut formicae & apes; homo verò sicut corpus armis nudum sic & animum artium destitutum habet, Ga'en de usu par­tium l. 1. (as the Physician.) Other creatures seem naturally to exercise a kind of art, as the Bee and Emmet, but man, as he hath a body void of na­turall weapons, so also a mind void of naturall arts; and although Galen immediately addes [Quòd pro corporis nuditate manus, & pro ar­tium imperitiâ rationem accipit] that his hands supply the want of wea­pons, and reason recompenceth the want of arts, yet his reason (though naturally [sanissima] never so sound and acute (say Socinus what thou wilt) if not first [sanata] bent and rectified by the Holy Ghost, is no better then a sword in a mad mans hand, wherewith whilst hee lives he doth himselfe more harme then any other creature is capable of. Heark what low thoughts my kingly Prophet had of man, Surely every man at his best estate is altogether vanity, Psa. 39.5. Hee sayes not that man is vain onely, but vanity it selfe: and [Abstracta sunt significan­tiora] Abstracts are weightier and come more home. 2. He excepts none from being vanity it selfe, Every man is vanity: Neminem ex­cipit, ne quem decipiat, saith a Father Austin. Hee excepts none, because he would deceive none. 3. Not every man onely, but man in every e­state and degree, is vanity it selfe; yes at his best estate he is so. 4. He is vanity it selfe in every both part and faculty of soule or body, for he is vanity (saith he) altogether. 5. and lastly, all this (it seems) is a very certain truth, otherwise he would not have affirmed it with this serious asseveration (surely) surely man is vanity it selfe, every man is vanity it selfe, every man at his best estate is vanity it selfe; Yes, every man at his best estate is altogether vanity it selfe. I know not what [Page 6]might be more said to coole and damp the swellings and excrescen­cies of proud man.

Our sad and miserable condition in this world caused (as some have well conceived) that fond opinion [of mens soules] to get with­in the wisest of Philosophers; which, say they, had from the begin­ning their creation and being in heaven, and for certaine faults there committed, were sent hither to be imprisoned in flesh, to be wrackt with its passions, and to undergoe the multitudes of miseries, which unavoidable seize us. Nay, the thought and knowledge of the poore and wretched estate of man brought also this errour into Divinity; for I have read of a sect of Hereticks, called Origenists, who were of the same opinion with the Philosophers, who wee may well thinke were so called from Origen the Father, because I find Austin bringing him in speaking almost the same words Animas fuisse olim in coelo an­gelos, qui in coelo pec­cantes, de­jiciuntur in haec corpora quasi in se pulchra; & tot in coelo ruinae, quot in terra na­tivitates, Ep. Tom. 2. p. 124. This consideration also made the Nat. Hist. l. 2. c. 63. Naturalist conclude it an argument of natures bounty afford us such diversity of poysons, whereby we may free our selves from the world and its crosses. And though Religion allowes not of this atheisticall exchange of misery, of leaping out of the Frying­pan, as we speak, into the fire, even Hell-fire; yet the miserable con­dition of man hath made some of the Fathers to bestow large-com­mendations on death; that known speech of Ambrose is most re­markable, Mors remedium potiùs poenae, quàm vindicta culpae; Death was brought on us rather for the ending of our punishment then for the punishment of sinne: For a punishment, saith he, was it said unto man Gen. 3.19. In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat thy bread; but for his comfort was it added, till thou returne to the earth: And even in this respect also is it truly affirmed by our best Divines, that though death considered according to its owne nature, be a punishment; yet as it is considered with relation to the faithfull, it is not, because to them the nature of it is changed, and from a curseit is turn'd into a blessings for the sting of it Sinne is taken away, in which its hurt and punish­ment consisted; and whereas Arminius would therefore prove death properly a punishment even to the faithfull, because though the right of holding them captive be taken a way from death by Christ, yet from the actuall dominion of death we are not freed till the resutrecti­on, I could tell him (might I stay so long) that death hath not this actuall dominion over the faithfull (he speakes of) seeing by Christ we have gotten the victory over it; so that we may not crouch to it as captives to their Governour, but rather as Conquerours over a [Page 7]captive may we triumph (O death where is thy sting? 1 Cor. 15.55. thy punish­ment, thy dominion?) thought thou art an enemy, the last enemy to be destroyed, and art though by the Arminians to helpe forward our afflictions, yet abundantly hast thou helped forward our good, the good not only of our soules, which hereby flye to heaven, are made infinitely and eternally happy, but of our bodies also, which hereby have a thrice happy deliverance. First, they are delivered from the sense of misery, from the paines of sicknesse, the troubles of old age, the crosses of the world, and the misusages of persecutors. Secondly, they are delivered from the society of wicked men; they are tooke from sojourning in Mesech, and from dwelling in the Tents of Ke­dar, which in this world is so loathsome, so burdensome unto them, Thirdly, & lastly, they cease from their labors, not only from their suf­ferings, under which they unavoidably labour, but from their labours of sinne, they rest from their workes of wickednesse: sinne by death loseth not onely its dominion, but its habitation, it shall not onely not reigne, but no longer dwell in their mortall bodies, and the reason is, because their bodies shall be no longer mortall.

'Twas well askt, why is earth & ashes proud? Ecclus 10.9. so true is that com­mon etymology, [homo quasi ex humo] man is so cald, because his foundation is in the dust, Psal. 108.9. our first parents had no other materials, nor ever since have we: nay the bowels whence we sprang are no­thing else [Wonderfully and fearfully (sayes the Psalmist Psal. 133▪ 15.) hast thou made me in the nethermost parts of the earth] i. in my mothers womb, and so (truth is) the Chaldee Paraphrast reads it: hence the He­brewes call women plainly earth; so truely, so verely earth are wee, not onely made of earthy materials, but cast also in an earthy molde.

So earthy and mouldring, that that which we call life, is it selfe but a wasting and dying, a continuall fluxe and decaying, no part of it being our own, nay no part of it being but [punctum continuationis] the [ [...]] the present moment, which too is so neare nothing, that (as the Philosopher) desinit esse antequam est; it begins almost not to be, before it is. What is past of this we call life, is lost, what is to come is not gain'd, this present instant onely remaining, which was so fleet to that 'twas gone assoone as I could tell you 'twas come, is vanish't, whilst 'twas spoke of. Be not mistaken, death consists not in the last gaspe, last groan, or fit; these do not name or cause death, but finish it: just as it is not the falling of the last sand in this glasse, [Page 8]which makes or names this houre, but the falling of all the sand; and the houre might be then said to make toward an end, when the glasse was first turned. 'Tis not, you know, the last blaze of a Candle, spends him, because he is spending all the time he burnes, and may true­ly be said even then to begin to go out, when he was first lighted. No otherwise is it with us, death consists not in the last breath or sicke­nesse, no, 'tis now upon you, even upon the best and healthiest con­stitution, every breath you fetch, every step you move, and every journey you take, 'tis towards the grave, thither were you tending, when you first set out, even the first minute of your birth; all of you beginning then to die, when you first began to be.

But men resolving to be proud, A Cavill answered. and therefore willing to forget they are but dust and ashes; may reply, 'Tis a very truth, that in these times and places of Warre and sicknesse, our earthy fraile condition plainly appears; but at other times, and in other places, we know 'tis otherwise. Have there not bin, and are there not even now amongst us many aged people? Answ. 'Tis confest, but yet there is scarce any of these aged ones, which you call now living, which on serious thoughts and recollection dare say they truely live, that onely being true life which hath joy and contentment individuall with it, which the cares and thornes of the world, the weaknesses and infirmities of old age denying them, denies them also truely to live. So true is that of my Psalmist, Psal. 90.70. The dayes of our yeares are threescore yeares and ten, and if by reason of strength they be eigthy yeares, then is their strength labour and pain. If joy and content did not onely speak us truly and properly alive, then they in hell may be said to be alive, but on them the second death hath seized. Aged men (by reason of the troubles and cares the world hath brought on them) are like those on the seas, bent for a short voyage, but vext and hindered by contrary winds and tempests: for as such cannot be said [multum navigare, but multum jactari,] not to faile farre, but to be much tost: so old people may not so properly be said to live long, as to be troubled long. But grant that some old men have beene so healthy and happy, that they ne­ver yet tasted the bitter of crosse or sicknesse, and grant that with Wine, good Company, Cardes, and a carelesse selfe, loving heart they can merrily passe over the feares and miseries of Church and State: grant that in such franticke jollity they attaine to 80.100. yeares, yet that life is but [vapor aliquanto diuturnior] (saith the Father) a better lasting vapour; Austin in Psal. 6. nay, [sitoto illo tempore viveres, ex quo Adam è pa­radiso [Page 9]emissus est vsque in hodiernum diem, videres vitam tuam (sayes he) non fuisse diuturnam, quae sic avolasset] if thou hadst beene borne when sinne slung Adam out of Paradise, and lived to this present moment, thou must necessarily confesse, thy life may not properly be called long, which is so swift-winged. Seeing then our life is so short, miserable, and uncertaine, may we not stand amazed at the generall pride that overspreades and oppresseth the whole Kingdome, and aske almost every man we meet, Why doest thou poor miserable nothing­man, why doest thou boast thy selfe? And thus much suffice for the proofe and illustration of the first branch of our first question; let's in the next place apply what hath beene said.

Applicati∣on. No better use can we make of this first question, and of the ground and reason of it thus open'd, nor any likelier meanes to take us off from pride and boasting, then by often and serious meditation of our earthy, fraile, and miserable condition to lay up against and to provide for death. If our life at the best, peaceablest, and healthiest times be but a hands breadth Psal. 39.5., then certainly in these bleeding sicke and worst times, we are fallen on, 'tis not onely before God, but in it selfe nothing. All of us now (as David complaines Psal. 119.109.) carry our soules in our hands; or, as our Divines Ains­worth in locum. with the Chaldee Para­phrast expound him, being every day, nay every houre through the destroying angels of Warre, and the sicknesse raging amongst us, in jeopardy of our lives, it should make us again with David, (as Lorinus Lorin. in lib. Sapient, 6.4. v. 7. and others expound him) to carry our soules in our hands i. with meditation of the certainty of death, and the uncertainty of its com­ming [animam velutmanibus gestare, ut Domino ad nutum offeramus] so to carry our soules in our hands, that we be ready, willingly and preparedly to yeeld them up unto the Lord, let him call for them ne­ver so suddenly. And, here bethinking my selfe both of the misery and carelesnesse of our times, I am lost in the comparison. If ever England were inhabited by people of Laish, if ever we were lost in a Leathar­gie, buried in security, dull'd and deaded in a senselesse course of sin­ning, then now especially. What alatums and warnings have wee had, and even now are bellowing in our eares? and yet, Behold joy and gladnesse, slaying of Oxen, and killing of sheepe, eating of flesh, and drinking wine Psal. 22.] At such a carelesnesse the Prophet stands amazed, even when judgement was threatned, and for it the Lord assures the Jewes that they should be utterly destroyed, [this iniquity should not be purged away untill you die, verse 14.] Oh my Brethren, how justly [Page 10]may we be lost then with the apprehension of the deadnes, & senselesse stupidity of our times? and what a fearfull and utter destruction may we expect at Gods hands, whose judgements are not onely threatned, but in execution? Oh! they fall thicke and heavy on us, and yet are we still the same constant and carelesse trudgers on in the old sinnes of our nature, cu [...]ome and crimes: nay, we hate to bee reformed, accounting those our enemies and misusers, who would recall and better us. Warre, Civill warre (the most bloody and la­sting of any) and the sicknesse rage amongst us: the sad breach be­tweene the King and his great Councell, not made onely, but proclai­med, the gappe growes daily wider, the Drumme speakes louder, and the sword drinkes blood thirstier then ever, massacres, burnings, batteries, besieges, (things not heard of for many, (many yeares in our Island) are our familiar misery, and discourse: yet (alas, alas!) as if we could neither see, nor heare, we continue the same carelesse in­different Christians.

We often heare and reade of the cruell suffering of our Brethren, both with us and beyond the Seas, especially in bleeding and dying Ireland, such sufferings that 'twould make the heart ake to thinke of them, the eare tingle to heare them, and the tongue faulter to re­late them? and yet (still tooke with the sinnes and courses of the world, with the vanities, idolatries, and superstitions of pastimes) you never set about the making up of your accounts betweene God and your soules, of the making even with heaven; the Lord knowes how soone (sooner 'tis to be feared then the Devill will let us be­leeve) we may be made to drinke the dregs of that cup, which our poore Brethren have begun unto us.

'Tis much to be wondred at, that you, which have so many argu­ments for praying against sudden death, should make such no-pre­paration against it,. But doe you know what in that short ejaculati­on you pray for? In it you doe not so much pray against theeves, bloody persecuters, the Pestilence, Impostumes, Apoplexies, Pal­sies, Fire, Water, Thunder, Earthquakes, the hazzards and dan­gers of Civill Warre onely, the usuall messengers of untimely deathes: but that you may by a blessed use of the meanes (such as praying, hearing, meditation, conference, sanctified afflictions, &c.) so confirme your faith, and perfect your repentance, that you may at all times be armed and provided against death: which meanes if you neglect, you live contrary to your owne pretended desire, and [Page 11]consequently your prayer is vaine, and hypocriticall, an abomination to the Lord. But if your prayer be hearty, and your endevours answe­rable, that thereby you are prepared to meet the Lord, whensoe­ver he shall call for you, death then can never be sudden, let it come when it will, and how it will, or by whom it will. So much truth hath that of Solomons in it, Wisd 4.7. Though the righteous be prevented with death, yet shall he be at rest,) though he be tooke away sooner, then after the ordinary course of nature he might expect, in his youth (,hap­pily) full strength, or best complexion, yet being tooke so doing, standing on his watch, and guard, by faith and repentance having made Christ his, and by a continuall circumspection living in a con­stant expectation of death, he dyes in full assurance of rest and hap­pinesse: whereas wicked Psal. 55. vit. bloody and deceitfull men shall not live out halfe their dayes i, either as a judgement on their hard hearts, which cannot repent, they shall be cut off in the midst of their strength and sinnes, (as most interpret the words) or wicked men, though they die feeble, and aged, yet are they said [dies dimidiare] not to live out halfe their dayes: because they are so deeply in love with the world, and greedy of life, that they would willingly live as long againe, as already they had: or lastly, are so carelesse of their wal­king, so little knowing how the precious time passes away, that they are at their journeyes end, ere they thinke they have gone halfe way: thus being tooke away before they expected death, they are tooke away also ere they could halfe provide for it.

Whereas if wee consider how fraile and brittle even naturally, how subject to variety of casualties, the frequent instruments of sudden death, wee are; how many continually fall on every side of us; what store of blood-thirsty Papists, and desperate Libertines rage, and swarme in our land, each whereof [suae vitae in­curiosus, tuae dominus] growne carelesse of his owne life, becomes master of thine; and upon these considerations alwayes keep Sen. Ep. 66. in our view and minde, approaching death, we should never be unprepa­red for it. Non subito moriuntur, qui semper se morituros cogitaverunt.] i.e. those which with Saint Paul, dye daily 1 Cor. 15.31. (for so also may he be understood) cannot die suddenly. If therefore thou art resolv'd to pray, From sudden death good Lord deliver us, pray also with David Psal. 92.12 Teach us so to number our dayes that we may apply our hearts unto wis­dome, i.e. bring them to wisdome, make them wise: Now a wise mans heart (saith the Preacher Eccles. [...].5.) discerneth both time and judgement; the [Page 12]last time death, and the last judgement at Christs second comming: not that he punctually knowes the time when he shall die, or when Christ shall in flaming fire be revealed from heaven; no, these times and seasons belong unto God alone; but that he so well discernes the one and the other, that neither of them shall take him unprovided, to this purpose (as it becommeth a wise sonne) [he gathereth in summer Prov. 10.5.] In the long dayes of peace, and the glorious sun-shine of the Gospel, he layes up against Winter, i.e. either against times of blindnesse and persecution, when the meanes shall be denyed him, or else against death, when his strength, like that of Plants, returnes to the earth, there to be kept untill the Resurrections spring. You therefore which desire to be freed from sudden death, and by your prayer will witnesse this your desire, witnesse it also, I beseech you, by your carefull endeavour to prepare for its comming: pray that you may apply your hearts unto wisdome, and manifest your selves to be wise sonnes by gathering in Summer. O gather therefore (gather apace) whilst it may be (yet) said to be Summer: For ought I know, our Sunne may be declining, and our Summer drawing towards an end, darke­nesse and spirituall blindnesse may be comming faster on us, then the yeares Winter. We have (truth is) at this time a great shine, great store of excellent and faithfull Preachers, but this may be but Ʋltimus lu­cernaefulgor, the last blaze of a dying candle, greatest at last. The times are dangerous, full of teares and dismall expectations (what bloody and desperate designes are continually hatcht and discovered!) strange talke and projects abroad, (God knowes whether the Jesuites many yeares plot may now have issue) the scales may turn; (sure I am our sinnes and hardened hearts deserve it) nay, doe we not see them swagge, and much adoe to keepe even? and did not the prayers and humiliations of some few good soules amongst us, which sigh and cry both for their owne, and the abominations of the land, adde weight unto the right scale, we were utterly lost. O how suddenly may the freedome and liberty of injoying God in his Ordinances, for want of valuing and rightly using them, be tooke from us! Let there­fore you, and me, and him, let every one of us resolve with his Saviour, [Iohn 9.40. To worke the workes of him that sent us, whilst 'tis day, because the night comes, when no man can worke;] the workes of him that sent mee, not of my Father, Ʋt obligationem faciendi ipso missionis nomine decla­ret Maldon. in locum., that he might shew the necessity of performing these workes, from his purposely being sent for their performance. So ought wee [Page 13]whilst 'tis called to day, the time of our life, the time of our liberty, or the time allowed us for comming in, let us ply the businesses breeding faith, and perfecting repentance, not onely because they are the works of our Father, works tending to his glory, but also because they are the works of him that sent us: to this end hath hee sent us into the World that we might repent and beleeve. It concernes us therefore carefully to use all the meanes to attaine to this perfection ere we are took out of the world, ere the night of death come on us, when no man can work.

And for ought I know to the contrary, this night wherein no man can work, may as well include our last sicknesse, the time of dying, as that after it. Death is a harder task, and there is more to do in it then most men think of. How much businesse we may then have, and how little time allowed for its dispatch, God onely knowes. A carelesse man going on in the sinnes and courses of the world, who thinkes it not worth the while in times of health and content, to trouble him­selfe with the melancholy of repentance, will finde it employment more then enough on his death-bed for his weak heart and giddy head to set his house in order, (the chief thing in these troubles cared for by worldly Achitophels) with patience to undergoe his present paines, or to make the little and spiritlesse flesh, God shall leave him, willing to depart: What no time then (my brethren) and quiet will he have to make even with God, having run on 30, 40, 50. or more yeares in horrible arrerages? what little leisure then will hee have to resist the Devill, quiet his conscience, or answer his clamorous sinnes? I shall in a word shew you what a toile, and trouble, almost invincible, 'twill be for that man to dye well that hath lived ill, ac­quainting you with these 2. things;

• 1. How hard it is for such a one to be willing to dye.
• 2. How hard it is for him dying to resist the Devill.

First, see how hard it will bee for him to bee willing to dye.

Whatsoever is destructive to being or life, nature abhorres, the continuance and preservation of this, being its onely appetite. Such a one then, as yet being in the state of nature, cannot but mightily dread death. Nay, there hath been in the dearest of Gods children this unwillingnesse to dye; in Jeremiah, [...]r. 37.20. Therefore heare me now I pray thee, and let my supplications be acceptable unto the King, my Lord, that thou cause me not to return to the house of Ionathan the Scribe, lest I dye there. Our Saviour foretelling Peter that bold professor, [Though [Page 14]all should be offended, yet not I Mat. 26.37.] of his death, foretold him also how un­willingly he would undergoe it, Thou shalt be carried whither thou wouldest not Iohn 21.18. And thus unwilling have the Saints been to dye, not only when wealth and pleasures would have made them in love with life, but even in such times as these, when sinne and misery did abound in the world; yet even then loath have they been to be took out of it: just as Lot, who though his righteous soule was vext day by day whilst he lived in Sodom 2 Pet. 2.8., although he knew that a fearefull destruction was falling on it suddenly, yet how strangely did he linger when God would take him out of it? insomuch that the two Angels were con­strained, laying their hands on him, to force him out. So weak was the purest and best flesh that was ever made, even our Saviours, though united to the God-head, that it begged, If it be possible let this cup passe from me, Ipsa vox non exauditi magna est expositio Sacramenti, Leo in Mat. 26.39. The mystery that Christ should be God, and not be heard, is to tell us, that nature, flesh and blood would not willingly purchase any good thing at so deare a rate as the price of its life, and being: Man then, yes the best man, nay God himselfe, as he was a man, being not able without some struggle and reluctancie to undergoe the last and sad departure of the soule from the body (these deare, intimate and ancient friends:) with what heart-breaking then and tormenting unwillingnesse doth a man formerly carelesse and customary in Reli­gion yeeld up his soule?

Againe, take notice how hard 'twill be for him to resist the Devill, who then especially recollects what malice and poyson is within him, and vents it with most violence? Ʋltimum magno scelus animo pa­trandum (as Medea of her selfe Sen. Med. Sad and present experience will tell you that when the besiegers of a Town heare that the siege is shortly to be raised by the reliefe of approaching succours, whereby it must necessarily be for ever rescued out of their hands; how fast and lowd will the Ordnance then thunder? what underminings, what stratagems, what force will be then used? then will they re­collect whatsoever is man in them; not a brain, heart, or hand which shall not be then imployed, that their former hopes may not faile, or their former labour be lost. And can the Devill (thinke you) who hath besieged a soule for 30, 40, 50, or 60. yeares, and all this while hath more then hopes of taking it, be forced to remove siege ere hee hath tryed his utmost strength, fury, and policie? And as the Devill will on our death-beds use his utmost endeavours; so shall we (for­merly [Page 15]carelesse) be utterly disenabled for resistance, Alas! we have not in time of health got unto our selves the whole armour of a Christian, which is very improbable, I will not say impossible, to begain'd in the last sicknesse; for the armour, the chiefest whereof is the shield of Faith, comes by hearing Rom. 10.17. God therefore seldome, very seldome bestowes his graces on those who in their health have not thrived by this Ordinance. And this is the reason why many carelesse ones dye either without a Minister, or happily having an ig­norant loose one, which knows not how to awaken a soule out of its damnable lethargy; or lastly, having a faithfull one cannot by rea­son of their present paines or feare of hell, reape any profit by him; and if any seemingly to us are by Gods blessing on a faithfull Mini­ster brought to repent, their repentance is scarce acceptable, or sound; 1. Not acceptable. May not God say to such, as he in the Comedy, [Cum nemini obtrudipotest, itur ad me,] you make me your refuge, not your choise; nay, you come not onely last unto me, but you reserve that which is worst for me: As in a barrell long drawn, [Non tan­tum minimum, sed & pessimum relictum,] what is left is not onely lit­tle, but grownes and dregges, the worst of all; so offering your selves unto me on your death-beds, you give me onely that little of your life that is left, and this little is the worst part too, made up of paines, weaknesses, feares, and agonies; nor this neither would you give me, knew you how otherwise to bestow it. What thank-worthy is it to be willing to leave your sinnes, when you can keep them no longer? to renounce the world and its vanities, when you must be took from them? to give means to the poore, when you your selves cannot make use of them? to forgive your enemies, when you are disinabled to return their injuries? or to perswade your wife and children to rely on my providence, because you can no longer lay up for them? 2. 'Tis usually unsound. Many at their last gaspe with teares in their eyes, groanes in their hearts, and confession in their mouthes miscarry and goe to hell, which we assuredly conclude to be in heaven, and have oft with joy related what good ends they have made, looking onely at their last pensivenesse, and not at their former lives, by which onely may we guesse what followes death, death being the Eccho to life, so we usually dye as we live. This sad truth my own reason and experience makes good. Some have I known in extremity of sicknes, being as they thought the last, have made large confessions of their past errours, and have profest strong resolutions of amendment for [Page 16]the future, in supposition of recovery. Oh! said they, if it would please God to spare me, suffer me to recover my strengh ere I goe hence, adde unto my yeares, mightily would I manifest, how the Lord hath sanctified his visitation unto me, by a reclaimed, strict, and exem­plary life: yet being restored againe to their former strength and liberty, (Dogges and Sowes as they are) have suddenly returned to their vomit and mire; this my experience tels me: now my reason tels me, that had these wretches died in this their repentance, which the devill made them beleeve, and they us was sound and true, they must necessarily have gone to hell, because their after relapses, and wal­lowings proved them to be counterfeits.

Thus are we necessitated to fear the miscarrying of all these careless ones, though they are permitted to dye in their beds with a long and ordinary sicknesse Oh then in what danger do they live? and how do they walke upon the brinke of hell, which care not through repen­tance and humiliation to make their peace with God in these dis­mall, bloody, dying times of ours, when probably this benefit of dying by a long sicknesse in the bed, being denyed them, they may be suddenly cut off with a head full of Wine, hands full of oppressi­on, eyes full of uncleannesse, and a heart full of malice; and thinke (Oh thinke) what then!

Object. I know the jolly customary sinners ordinary objection, (no great decision, sure I am, no disprofit to answer it) Though we as yet take our swing in the wayes and courses of the world, and death may overtake us ere we are prepared for it; yet God can make us doe much in a little time, and that as much in as little time too, as the thiefe on the Crosse did.

Sol. 'Tis truth, to God nothing is impossible, much lesse can any thing bee hard to him, yet know, that the LORD is infinitely just, as well as omnipotent, and I know not how it can stand with his in­finite justice miraculously to worke faith and repentance in a man on his death-bed, distracted with sicknesse, weeping friends, a clamorous conscience, and a misgiving heart, which in time of strength and quiet, wilfully did shut his eyes against light, counted the preaching of the Word foolishnesse, 1 Cor. 1.19. by which foolishnesse, as hee and such like count it, it pleaseth God to save them that beleeve; he hath appointed as a meanes to worke faith in them whom he intends to save.

Rep. But did he not make the thiefe on the Crosse much repent and beleeve in a little time? and why may he not take the same course with me too?

Resol. This Example of the Thiefe onely proves, that if thou doest as truely repent, and beleeve on thy death-bed, as the Thief did on the Crosse, though thou hast beene formerly never so desperately wilde and carelesse, and canst manifest the truth of thy faith and repen­tance by as lively fruits as he did, thou art call'd, though at the last houre, and art assured of heaven: but it does not prove that God chooseth the last houre to call soules in; though faith and repen­tance, be it given when it will, cannot misse of heaven: yet seldome or never, never but once, have we read or heard of, God bestowes these graces on them, which till then never thought them worthy the seek­ing. The Fathers and moderne Divines afford store of answers to this carelesse Objection. First, that of Augustine is very good, Verum quidem dicis, quod Dous poenitentiae tuae indulgentiam promisit, sed huic dilaetioni tuae diem crastinum non promisit; Aug. de verb. Dom. Serm. 16.; That mercifull God which hath promised pardon upon repentance, hath not pro­mised to morrow to him that deferres it. Whensoever therefore thou art call'd, come, doe not deferre thy comming till the eleventh houre, because you have heard of the Thiefe then call'd: 'tis very like­ly in these bleeding, dying times, that thou shalt not live to the sixth. Secondly, Bolton Comfort. Walk. from the Creation to this present houre, we have read but of one so miraculously snatcht out of the fire: 'twas a miracle where­with God honoured the passion of his Sonne, and we may then onely looke for the like miracle, when Christ is againe to suffer. Thirdly, and lastly, Down. Warf. part. 1. lib. 2. c. 32. Princes now and then, though very seldome, as tokens of their clemency, pardon some man at the blocke, yet if any shall in hope hereof wilfully offend, and having offended, delay suing for a pardon, till he be led forth to execution, certainly he richly deserves to suffer, not onely for his offence, but for his presumption: just so the Lord to manifest the riches of his mercy, pardoned the thiefe, when death (death eternall) was seizing on him: now those which hereupon shall take occasion by continuing in their old and sinfull courses, fearefully to displease his Majestie, or having fearfully offen­ded, yet shall deferre by faith and repentance to sue for pardon, ut­terly unworthy are they of grace and mercy, and as probably as deser­vedly shall perish in their sinnes, and be delivered up to the blacke tormentor.

To conclude therefore this first application (the sutablenesse whereof both to our times and sad occasion hath lengthened it a great deale beyond my intention) considering how hard, almost impossi­ble, [Page 18]it is to repent in our last sicknesse, and how probable it is that the last and usuall leisure of a long sicknesse, will by reason of our natu­rall frailties, the raging of infectious and violent diseases, together with the thousand casualties of a bloody Civill warre, be utterly de­nyed us, Let us speedily set about working forth our salvation with feare and trembling: Let's forthwith endeavour to make our calling and election sure: Now, now, in this breathing time of health and liberty, let's make good our title to heaven, confirm our evidence, our Faith, which is the evidence of things not seen, Heb. 11.1. and have in readi­nesse our witnesse, which is a good conscience. The Scripture will not give you any incouragement or allowance for the least delay. 'Tis to day if you wilt heare his voyce, harden not your hearts, Psal. 95.7, 8. not to morrow, if you will heare it; a dayes procrastination doth harden the heart. Tis now is, not hereafter will be, the acceptable time: Be­hold now is the day of salvation, 2 Cor. 6.2. The glorious time of the Gospel, wherein peace and reconciliation through Christ is tendered on con­dition of faith and repentance, is exprest by the present time and this day, to tell us (as I conceive) that there is a certain time allowed for every man to come in, which nick and opportunity, through a despe­rate carelesnesse o'reslipping, he is irrecoverably lost. And therefore ought we to make so thrifty a use of this day, nay of this present time, of this present houre of my discourse, as though this glasse were now turn'd up upon you, and that the time allotted for your, and your comming in did expire with the falling of the last sand. For therefore (faith a Father Austin. is our last day conceald from us, that we may be­leeve every day to be the last. Oh that the Lord would make me a blessed instrument to move, melt, and soften but one heart here pre­sent, with the apprehension of that horrour and trembling, which seizes a foule impenitent and unprovided sinner suddenly death-strucken, and with the blow having his conscience awakened; or in­to what everlasting burnings and torments he sinks being never a­wakened. But I have already trespassed too much in the lengh of the use of the first branch. I shall recompence your patience in the shortnesse of the other uses. I goe forwards therefore to the se­cond branch.

Branch 2 Of what dost thou boast thy selfe? i. e. what hast thou which might be a just subject for boasting? whatsoever thou darest own, or call thine, are either the good things of thy body, fortune, or thy mind, (as they are commonly distinguished) we will make our examination seve­rally. [Page 19]First then, the good things of thy body are either beautie or strength; but neither of these can justifie the least pride or vaunt: Not beauty, which is Flos floris, the flower of a flower: Man at the best is but a Flower suddenly gone, Ps. 103.15.16. As for man his dayes are as grasse, as a Flower of the field so he flourisheth, for the wind passeth over it, and so it is gone, and the place thereof shall know it no more; but beauty is that which soonest fades and alters in man, nay 'tis only [...], sch Aen. the flower of colour, or the colour of a flower, which soonest fades in a flower. Adde to this, that Scripture, experience, Chroni­cles, and most Histories tell us, that those sinnes and miseries can scarce be equalled, which this fond thing (we call beauty) hath produced. And even this might take off from boasting of it, because 'tis (as Pin­darus termes it) [...], the wanton Goddesses Embassa­dour. Nor can strength, health, or manhood justifie thy boast; for know, especially in the times of warre and sicknesse know, that the healthiest, ablest men fall thickest: Strong and able men are daily call'd to the dangers and hazzards of the warre, and the purest and best complexions soonest yeeld to the infection and cruelty of raging diseases; and most Physicians affirm, that Temperamentum ad pondus (as they call it) the exactest constitution hath most danger in it, be­cause it cannot long consist in its perfection and excellencie: Et quia non potest in melius progredi, labitur in deterius, (as Galen somewhere) because it cannot grow better, growes worse: And that Aphorisme of Hippocrates Hippoc. sect. 2. A­phor. 30. [...] will hinder your boasting, paines and diseases are ea­siest in youth and age, [ [...],] of more force against the strongest complexion. A sudden tempestuous sicknesse, a feaver, the Stone, or wind in the Stomack (as a tempest deales with sturdy Okes) soonest plucks up and overturnes the strongest, when weak creeping wretches come off easier.

And if thou hast no just cause to boast of the good things of thy bo­dy, much lesse cause hast thou to boast of the things we call the good things of Fortune, because they are lesse thine own, longer winged, and flye away sooner. First, no cause hast thou to boast of thy riches, for nec verae sunt, nec tuae Bern. Ser. 49., they are neither truly wealth, nor thine owne: so farre are they from being thine owne, that we are forbid­den to gather them for our selves. Lay not up (saith our Saviour) for your selves treasures upon earth (not that we are forbidden with honest and moderate carefulnesse to endeavour an increase of our stock and talent: Mat. 6.19. No, the hand of the diligent maketh rich, saith Solomon, Prov. 10.9. [Page 20]their growing rich is made the reward and encouragement to mode­rate and honest carefulnesse; but that we should not lay up treasures for ourselves; that we should not therfore carke, spare, and pine, that we may purchase a propriety in wealth, that we may have heapes of gold and store of lands that we may call our owne, that we may have what to set our hearts on with that foole in the Gospell singing lullabie to our soules, Soule take thy rest, thou hast much goods laid up for many yeeres, Luke 12.19. thou hast goods laid up, the goods are thine, and for thee onely are they laid up: Well might this foole by the Psal­mist Psal. 39 6. be said to be disquieted in vaine, because he stored up riches, and knowes not who shall enjoy them: So farre is he from knowing who shall enjoy them, that he knowes not for whom he gathers them. Even in this sense also that charge of the Apostle I Cor. 10.24. requires obedi­ence, Let no man seek his owne, but every one anothers wealth, Let him not seek wealth for himselfe to make it his owne, but for others, either for his children, friends, Common-wealth, especially for God, for the upholding of his cause, or the reliefe of his servants. And oh that men would consider what no propriety, what no right they themselves have to their wealth, what no masters themselves are of their owne purse, when Gods cause calls for't, and bids them deliver!

Again, the deceitfulnesse of riches (as our Saviour calls itMar. 4.19. which especially failes us in our greatest necessity, should keep us from boa­sting of them; when age or sicknesse throwes thee on thy death-bed, thy full barnes and cram'd bagges will afford thee little comfort, thy corn will not then be nourishing, nor thy gold restorative. In this needfull time they deale with us as Hagar did with Ishmael Gen. 23.16., being not able then to comfort us with the waters of refreshment, they de­part from us, they yeeld us up unto death; and after death thy com­fort will be least of all, thine I mean, which pridest thy selfe in thy wealth: for in that last and great day they will but encrease thy onus, adde to the score, and make thy accompts deeper and more intricate. This misery riches bring with them though well got, but if ill got, got by oppression, the trade of Vsury, or other unlawfull gaines, what no cause hast thou to boast of them? especially in thy last sicknesse, when their deceivablenesse plainly appeares: this heavie strait wilt thou be brought to, if thou make restitution, as God and thy consci­ence requires, thou must then leave thy children beggers; if not, thy soule sinks into hell: Coelum undique, & undique pontus.

Secondly, no just cause hast thou to boast of thy honours, which [Page 21]though in themselves good, not onely as they are Gods gifts: [He it is that raiseth the poore out of the dust, and lifteth the begger from the dunghill, to set them amongst Princes, and to make them inherit the seat of glory 1 Sam. 2.8.] but also as they are rewards to those that stick for his Ho­nour [He will honour those that honour him 1 Sam. 2.30.]. Yet to those that de­sire to pride themselves in them are just cause of dread and shame, for these reasons: First, such will desire honour farre above their de­sert and place: Thus Alexander, who gloried much in his height and Victories, willingly accepted of divine respect; when some of his base Courtiers perswaded him he was a God, then presently became he violent against the few faithfull friends of his that gaine­sayed it, so violent, that the faithfullest of them was murthered; and no wonder, for thinking himself a god, 'twas easie for him afterwards to conceive that he was not bounded by Law or duty. Secondly, such will not ouely affect honour farre above them, but whatsoever ho­nour they affect, they are eager in the pursuit of it, and it cannot ca­sily be guest, what variety of sinnes and dangers such will run tho­row to satisfie their lust; they care not how dishonest the meanes be, how base the instruments, nor how foule the way, so they may get to their journeys end. God grant that we owe not our present suf­ferings, nay our present sinnes, our hideous lyings, oathes, per­juries, bloody stratagems, murthers, and oppressions to such inordi­nate desires. Thirdly and lastly, they which desire honour meerly that they may vaunt and glister, they will not desire that which nei­ther God nor man hath thought fit for them, and with a strange ea­gernesse, and hazard pursue this desire, untill they have either lost themselves or gain'd their unjust honour, but into these straights are they also cast, viz. to be as base and sinnefull in keeping their Ho­nour, as they were in the obtaining of it (according to that rule of the Historian Salust., [Iisdem artibus retinetur gloria, quibus parta fuit] glory is to be kept upon the same tearmes it was got; if thou by sinnefull courses and base instruments gottest up, the same finnefull courses and base instruments are necessary to the keeping of thy height, o­therwise they which set thee up will pull thee downe again, ex. gr. if by flattery and dissembling thou gottest so high, then (O misery!) must thou still be base and flatter: if by bribing, then must thou still be sending and giving, otherwise 'twill bee with thee as with a Comet, which (say Astronomers) continues its blaze and lustre no longer then it hath matter to feed and maintain it; nor will thy [Page 22]glory, if thus come by, last longer then thou hast oyle to foment it, base smooth language or gifts; but when these faile, thy great friend will begin to frown, and then down thou must, and wilt fall like a spent exhalation. Put these together then, and tell me. Have those which are so unjust in their desires, and so violent in the pur­suit of them, so violent (I say) that they oft run through any sin, and venture on any danger, rather then they'l be hindred, yes and are forced for the most part to a necessary continuance in the sinnes, by which, and liablenesse to those dangers, through which they waded to their heigth: have these (I say) just cause of boasting of their honour thus got and enjoyed? Alas! my brethren, did you feele and know the stings and burnings, the throwes and cuttings of their guilty consciences, if they have any, you would not be long in giving in your answer. But one step further, that they (Atheists as they are) have no consciences, for none but Atheists would be so violent and sinfull in the pursuit of honour, and that they can gloriam [...]sdem artibus retinere, quibus parta fuit, keep their heigth and glory with the same sins and strength wherewith 'twas got; yet all this will but make them great and glorious sinners, whose end is horrour to imagine.

And then for the best honours which are to be gained the best and most innocent way, though offered and forced on thee; labour thou maist indeed to deserve them, but never to make them matter of thy boast: Hence our Saviour, the people crying, Blessed is he which com­meth King of Israel Luk. 19.38.40., would by no meanes be brought to rebuke them; but understanding their intention was to make him King, he withstood them Ioh. 6. [...]5., whereupon Hilarius, [Insinnat quod statum regium, & mundi honores volebat mereri, & contemnere] he thereby willed the desert, and contempt of worldly honours: Magne fortuna est magna servitus, high place is but an honourable servitude, and will stand in little stead at last: it cannot stave of deaths arrest, though happily it may the Lawes; Even of the greatest of mortal, saith the Psalmist Psal. 146.4., his breath gooth forth, he returneth to his earth, (the earth from whence he came) and then all his thoughts (not good thoughts certainly, for such are gloriously satisfied, but his bad thoughts, his thoughts of soaring, revenge, rioting, &c.) shall perish: Then (as Lucretius wittily Lib. 3. Eripitur persona, manet ves, the play will bee done, his exiit come, and his robes took off, he will appeare an arrant man, not of better earth or mould then the poorest begger.

Thirdly and lastly, no just cause hast thou to boast of thy great friends, thy dependancy or mighty relations, and that for these reasons; First, because most are false, they dive and winde themselves into thy bosome; and being got into thy innermost closet, acquainted with thy naturall bent and inclination; they will accordingly so bende and crook their words and actions, and therewith as with a false key, they will unlock and open thy heart, that they may deale with thee as La­tiaris in Tacitus did with Sabinus Annal. 1.4., sound and pump thee untill they have got enough out of thee to undoe thee. They will Eccl. 13.11, 12. smiling on thee get out thy secrets, lay up thy words, will not spare to doe thee hurt, or to put thee in prison: There are I am confident plenty of such friends storing up against a black day. How usuall a way of poysoning is it to professe Physick? Who would not have took Ioab to have been Amasa's friend? see his friendly greeting, Art thou in health my brother? Takes him by the beard to kisse him, but nothing lesse; this onely to make way for more surely murther­ing of him; for hereby (saith the Text) Amasa took no heed to Ioabs sword, so hee strook him therewith on the fifth ribbe and shed out his bowels to the ground, and strook him not againe 2 Sam. 20.9.10.

Secondly, suppose thy friends not such wretched Caitiffs, as to intend to build themselves a fortune out of thy ruines, or rise the higher by treading on thee (though the discovery of many bloody underminings tell us, there are store of such amongst us) notwith­standing few are there which doe truly intend the good of their friends. Many will be friends to thy wealth, thy power, wisedome, or hospitality, which will not be so to thee; such as the Philosopher sayes, [qui eo usque oleum infundunt, donec lucernâ opus est] which put oile into the Lamp no longer, then they make use of its light: But when thy candle is put out, as Iob phrases it Iob 18.6, when thou art dis­enabled from affording them comfort and reliefe, then presently will they fall off, and (as he complaines of his friends Iob 6.15.) deale deceitfully with thee as a brook, in summer, in the heat of thy afflictions, when thou hast most need of them, faile thee, and like Davids kinsfolk stand a­farre of Psal. 8.1 [...].

Thirdly, grant thy friend true, and for the time fast, yet how soone may another creep into his bosome, and thrust thee out? I need not to goe so farre back as to tell you that Haman (but now Ahasuerus his great Favorite, the onely man privy to his sports, and businesses) was on a sudden forc't to be an instrument of Mordecai's honour, [Page 24]whom ere-while hee would not suffer to sit covered before him, and immediately afterwards hang'd on that Gallowes he rear'd for him Est. 7. How suddenly the scales have turn'd, and good carding altered, our own Chronicles will tell you, yes, our own times (very late times) will tell you how a long imprisoned person hath been took out of the prison, judged, and censured his but now mighty adversary: 'Twere losse of time to shew you those many, whom sympathy and conversation have been long a twisting, which in a thrice have been as famous for thei enmity, as ever they were for their friendship. One instance shall serve, Sejanus had but now so much of the bosome of Tiberius (as the Historian tells us Tacitus, that he stiles him [consors curarum,] partnet in his cares; and so much of his dignity, that he stiles him [Collega imperii] partner in his Empire: but how sudden­ly and fatally did the Scene alter, next day, nay next houre [Calca­mus Caesaris hostem;] Macro a new pellet, but his old Adversary, thrust him out of Tiberius his favour, brought men and Authority to the Senate to spoyle him of his life, and (which was worse to an am­bitious man) of his honours too: then those, which but this houre were his Idolaters, became with the hearing of six lines read, proud to bee his executioners, and made him the sacrifice, which but this morning was their God.

Fourthly and lastly, suppose thy friend (thy greatest friend) true and fast, as constant too, as the three paires the Heathens boast of: let him be as close and sure to thee as Ionathan was to David; nay further, sup­pose him as close and as fast to his God too, yet he is still but Gods instrument: if thou dost ill, he neither will, nor dares stick to thee; if thou dost well, yet can he be nor more nor longer thine, then God shall suffer him. Nay let me tell you, if high friends, great depen­dance, or mighty relation be that which you pride your selves in and boast of, God may (and 'cis probable he will) so crush and humble thy great friend, that thou maist gladly make use of Peters [I know not the man:] 'twas I believe somewhat in the cause why the Lord lesus so left Peter, that he denied, forswore, and wept, because he relied too much upon the man Christ Iesus. Reade we not that 'twas usuall amongst the antient to attach and accuse friends as accessories, and conclude every traitours friend a conspiratour? and that humour is not yet quite worn out: For though judgement doth not so peremptorily (as in old times) seize the friends of the accused, or guilty, yet suspi­tion sticks close to them; and if jealous, suspitious eyes are about thee, [Page 25]'tis as bad as mosse about a tree; 'twill for the present hinder thee from thriving, and at last by degrees wither thee. No sooner was our Savi­our betraid, but present enquiry was made after his friends and fol­lowers; then presently thou also Peter wast with Iesus of Galilee Matt. 26.69.71. and again, this fellow also was with Iesus of Nazareth: (b) And though the Disciples fell not presently with their Master, yet his cause was their death, and because they persecuted him, they persecuted them much more.

This have I said, not that I would have you leave your Saviour, or feare to professe friendship to his cause and servants, but then you might know that friendship, and relation only, be they never so inno­cent, may cause your overthrow. Hence the Athenians Phocion asking them why others (he only being thought guilty) should bee accused, answered onely [quod amici fuerint] because they were his friends. Thus Alexander (as Curtius tels us) sought the death of all Parmeno's friends and allies; and to Sejanus his friends [amicitia objecta est] they were accused of friendship: Nay (as Tertullian wit­nesseth of him Apoloz., [portati sunt in carcerem emorituri puberes, qui mor­tem nesciebant, & sub cultro ridebant] 'twas sufficient fault for his chil­dren to be his, who (tender wretches!) were put to death, ere they know what it meant, and sported with that axe that was to end both their mirth and life: So suddenly may the wind turn and times change, that you may with a heavy heart say of your great friend, what Evodius does of Sejanus, [Aequè illum amasse quàm offendisse periculo­sum] his friendship is now as dangerous as before his anger was.

To put this together then, if some friends are basely treacherous many selfe-ended, others inconstant, and all but men fraile, and uncertaine in their persons and condition, subject to the miscarriages of state and change of times; yes so subject, that thy former friend­ship, and relation with them may utterly ruine thee, though thou and thy great friend be never so innocent. This being so, doubtlesse thou hast no just cause to boast of thy friends, though I bate thee the sinful­nesse of it.

But were we not eare and eye-witnesses to the contrary, we could not think that any one which hath not left to bee man can be so very a craven as to crow on these dung-hills, boast of meere froth, of these low, wordly, gaudy nothings: a Heathen could say Sen. prae. sat in ratu­ral. quested. [quagrave;m contempta res est homo, si non supra humana so exercuirit!] man is [Page 26]a very inconsiderable thing if the things here below onely take up his time and thoughts: yet there are [bona animi] the good things of the mind, somethings within man, such as knowledge, sweet and affable dispositions, morall vertues, together with reason, and other gifts, and naturall endowments, which a man may better call his owne, and therefore the Heathens have so strangely boasted of them, which some, even Christians have thought may enable them [expu­ris naturalibus] meerely of themselves to lay hold and keepe fast their Saviour, to worke out their salvation with feare and trembling (as pround nature misconstrues, that place of the Apostle;) and therefore some, even Christians have boasted of these naturall, and morall en­dowments. But for my part so sensible am I (and the Lord continue me so) of these wretched fruits, which (radix ista damnata) (as the Father cals her o) nature that dāable root brings forth, Austin. [...]. contia Iuian. that I cannot but in respect of these good things of the mind also (as they are called) continue my wonder and question, and aske the richest endowed, the compleatess man, that nature or industry hath made, Why boastest thou thy selfe in these?

And first, what just subject of boasting can the wisdome and knowledge of the experientest learnedst man afford him, which some have thought at the best to be but opinion: that whatsoever we are capable of, is not onely uncertaine in its possession, but in its knowledge also: nay, this Tenet of theirs, That nothing can be truely knowne, is not sufficiently knowne unto themselves: as Lucretius well;

But grant our knowledge may be sure and certaine, yet what just matter of boasting can that be, which is purchased with so much ado, and may be lost so easily? How much money, travell, sicknesse, pati­ence, and study (though vulgar ignorance thinke otherwise) goe to the making of a wise knowing learned man, whom an Apoplexy, Lethargy, Palsie, or discontent, in a moment besots, or strikes luna­tick? Thus Eccius, Luthers great adversary (as great for his learning, as his malice, as Osiander In Epit: Cen. 16. e. Com. lib. 23. & Cardinall Cressentius, the Popes Nuntio, at the Councell of Trent, as Sleiden relates) were strucke with a sud­den frenzie: and Calius Rhodiginus will tell you that Aristotle the Fountaine and Conduit of almost all learning and wisedome, was by a violent surprisall of griefe suddenly cut off Antiq. lect. l. 29. c. 8. The Stoi [...]es the [Page 27]the greatest Idolaters that ever wisedome and learning had, have set too low a rate upon them that they sticke not to affirme that Hera­clitus and Pherecides (men oraculously wise amongst them) would have changed their wisedome for health, if thereby they might have beene ridde of their paines and Sicknesse for health (a good so com­mon to us and beasts, that some have therefore preferr'd riches be­fore it.

Thus many have there beene (and thrse none of the weakest neither) that have preferr'd a childes simplicity, and a fooles ignorance before it, lest by a fore-thought, and miserably wise anticipation, they might suffer afflictions before they fall, and being fallen, adde to the load by a punctuall comparison of past happinesse and present misery. Truely in this respect spake the Greeke Poet [Ev [...]] the sweetest life is in knowing nothing Sophoc. Ajax. of which So­lomon gives the reason; because in much wisdome is much sor­row Ecclesu.

And if thou hast so little cause to boast of knowledge and wisedome, then much lesse cause hast thou to boast of a towardly disposition, naturall ingenuity, pleasantnesse of wit, yes or of the full chaine of morall vertues, which all put together, are but [semina & radices prudentiae] but the rootes and ground-worke of wisedome. Know therefore that in the second place, sweetnesse and ingenuity of Nature, nor the greatest stocke of morality, can justifie thy boast; (i meane still, though we abstract from boasting its sinfulnesse) Though these happily are in themselves good, Gods gifts, and chal­lenge thy thankfulnesse, yet not so absolutely good, or thine owne, as to justifie a boast For these are at the best but home-made gar­ments, which may perchance serve to keepe out wet in the world, get name and repucation amongst men, yet is it not a fit dresse for the Spouse to meet her Bride-groome in: and if thou art not better clad at the great marriage-feast, thou wilt be found without thy wedding garment. Agains, doe not these endowments, if not seasoned by the Holy Ghost, make us more yeelding and liable to temptation? witnesse these common phrases, which oft, out of a fond irreligious cha­rity, we bestow on swine, Alas! he is a man of a very good nature, An enemy onely to himselfe, You see the worst of him,) the worst, quoth you! God forbid I should ever see any of you so bad: for happily so­ber [Page 28]and himselfe, he never swore; cheated, lyed, quarrell'd. &c. and may on the Lords day passe with most for a very good Christian: but on Munday there comes a Messenger from the Devill, one of the drin­king crew, has him abroad, where, after a Catowse or two, hee lo­seth both his sense and goodnesse, and then his lascivious gesture, and prophane language, confesse that his former acted civility was not grace, but some towardly seedes of morality, which vainglory and imitation had fostered into a custome. Yet this is not all, these na­turally sweet dispositions and vertues make a man not onely more pliable to temptation, but (though I dare not say, as some, that they are at the best a hinderance to Religion) yet certainly may I say with a Divine of ours, if they are not rectified by the good Spirit, they can­not but blocke up the way to the power of godlinesse; and upon this his reason too: because many, when they have perceived that naturall sweetnesse, and civill uprightnesse have got them name and credit in the world, and that it will consist with the profit and pleasure which some bosome sinne affords them, then presently stop they here, conten­ting themselves with a probable being in the right way, when (to speake truth) 'tis but a plausible way to eternall death.

And if the best of naturall dispositions, nay, if the best of our mo­rall habits which are [ [...]] properly call'd vertues, are no just matter for boasting, then certainly neither is our reason, or sharp­nesse of judgement, which is onely [ [...]] a naturall vertue, and improperly so call'd. Know Socinus in the third place, that thy reason, though naturally never so deepe or sharpe, cannot make good thy pride and strange boasting of it: which by nature, and of it selfe is darkened, Ephe. 4.18. Nay, darknesse it selfe Eph. 5.8., and this is that darknesse which could not comprehend the light, Iohn 1.5 that vessell which is not able to com­prehend the way of the Highest 2 Fsdr. 4.11. Though I cannot well side with them, who make reason an absolute enemy to Religion, Hook. Eccles. pol. l. 3. Sect. 8. and that the way to be ripe in faith, is to be raw in wit and judgement. Though there is on the other side, Sapientia Dei in aperto (as Saint Austin ex­presses it) the wisedome of God legible in the creature, though the ve­riest Heathen hath a Law written in his heart sufficient for convicti­on, yet there is [sapientia Dei in mysterio] the mystery of godlinesse, (as Saint Paul speakes) 1 Tim. 3.6. which is farre beyond the reach and ken of naturall reason: which when I fasten my thoughts on, I cannot but thinke and say, nay, [ [...]] with the ancient Father, Shall I cry out [Iustin. Mart de trinit. p. 388. [...]] [Page 29]that these points of Christianity are above our understanding, above our reason, and above the capacity of created nature, and therefore a little before he affirmeth, that the interpretation of them ought not to be [ [...]] according to humane reason P. 375. [ [...] but according to the sense and will of the doctrine of the Spirit, especially (saith hee) [ [...]] with the sonnes of the Church. Once therefore well spake. Tilenus, Syntag. l. 1. cap. 3. thes. 30. though since miserably he fell (ratio­nem extinguit fides ut ducem, & dominam, adhibet ut pedissequam) faith refuseth reason, as judge or guide, but not as follower, or servant. Hence excellently Saint Austin, (Noli quarere intelligere ut credas, sed crede ut intelligas) labour not to understand that thou mightest beleeve, but beleeve that thou mightest understand. This naturall reason of ours, if it hath any light, 'tis in it selfe no better in respect of the mysteries of godlinesse, then that of an ignis fatuus, which miserably misleads: or at the best, it is but as a starre to guide us (like that of the shepheards) to Christ: now as a starre, the Sunne and Moone withholding their shine, yeelds no light or comfort: So if the Word of God, or the Spirit which enlightens the Word with­hold their light, we shall, notwithstanding the strength of naturall reason, be enwrapped in perpeturall night: and (truth is) such 2 starre hath it proved to many in Polonia, and Racovia, even the starre mentioned by Saint Iohn, and called Wormewood, which made rivers so bitter, that men tasting of them dyed, dyed thereof. Rev. 8.1.

To goe forward then, if naturall reason (the richest jewell in na­tures Cabinet) is so blinde in matters of Religion, that it cannot make good a Socinian boast, we may justly goe further and conclude: that nature bestowing her gifts with never so broad a hand, cannot afford her greatest darling, matter sufficient for one selfe-boast. Let me there­fore in the next place aske thee, Why doest thou boast thy selfe in any gifts, excellency, or strength of Nature whatsoever? Is't not a con­test vanity of the poore to boast of their wealth, the broken hearted of their jollity, the Captives of their liberty, the blinde of their quicke sight, or a bruised Cripple of his legges? If so, what fond madnesse is it for us to boast of our naturall abilities? For poore and blind Captives are we, bruised and broken Cripples by nature, and this we must know, and acknowledge too, ere we can reape any be­nefit by Christs comming: Witnesse that of the Prophet, Isai. 61.1. Luke 4.18. which our Saviour affirmes to be spoken of himselfe; The Spirit of the Lord [Page 30]was upon him, to preach the Gospel, but to whom? to the poore, (i.e.) those which through the sight and acknowledgment of their own naturall poverty were poore and low in their own thoughts; he sent him to heale, but whom? the broken-hearted, (i.e.) those whose hearts are almost broken with the discovery of their wretched estate, both by actuall transgression and naturall pollution, to preach deliverance to the captives only, those which seriously confesse, what slavery is be­queathed them from Adam to sinne, and the Devill, recovery of sight to the blinde, (i.e.) those which are truly sensible of their natu­rall ignorance and advernesse unto saving truths, and to set at liberty those which are bruised, which are sufficiently sensible of that all-over bruise they had by their first Parents fall; he fell with us in his armes, we were equally crippled with him; but alas, this was not all, wee were not onely maimed in the fall, but struck dead; for as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive 1 Cor. 15 15.; For ought I know to the contrary, the Apostle here excludes all these from having life in Christ, which will not acknowledge that by nature they are dead; and what reason think you, hath a dead man to boast of his naturall abilities? Be we advised rather by Prosper Lib. de libera arbi­trio ad Ruf­fin., (agnoscat se humana de­bilitas, & cum mortui vivificantur, cum caeci illuminantur, impii justi­ficantur, confiteantur & vitam, & lumen, & justitiam Iesum Christum) let humane weaknesse acknowledge it selfe, and since the dead are re­stored to life, the blind recover their sight, and sinners are justified, let them acknowledge that Christ above is their life, their light, and their righteousnesse; and (as the Father goes on) qui gloriatur, in Domino glo­rietur, qui cum esset impius, caecus, & mortuus, à liberatore suo gratis accepit & justitiam, & lumen, & vitam; he that doth glory, let him glory in the Lord 2 Cor. 10 17., not in himselfe, who a sinner, blind, and dead recei­ved gratis, (i.e.) without desert present or fore-seen; of his Saviour light, life, and righteousnesse. I must wonder therefore that some like Philotas in Curtius Curt. l. 5. (meruisse mortem consiteri pudet,) scorne to acknowledge that even by nature they deserve to die and (as there the Historian of him,) mallent injuriam accepisse quàm vitam; had rather die, and that for ever, so thereby God may be accused of injustice, then accept of salvation meerely through Christ. These with Bona­venture Lib. quar­to distinct. 14. qu. 2. ar., boast that (qui facit quod inse est, cogitans bonitatem Dei & justitiam, qui malum edit, & revertentibus misericors est,) he that does what he can, (as his disciples have Englished him) bethinking him­selfe of the goodnesse and justice of God, which hates iniquity and is [Page 31]mercifull to penitents, and hereby begets feare in himselfe from the thoughts of the justice of God, and hope of pardon from the thought of his mercy, who thus begins to think (sayes he) and then (faciendo quod in se est) doing what he can, is of himselfe disposed for justifica­tion. Thus our late pretending Defender of the Protestant Religion (who desended our Religion, as the Colonell did Ports-mouth, that it might be more assuredly yeelded up, undertook its defence him­selfe to hinder others from more safely keeping of it,) thus may I say, this pretending Defender sayes, men are to use their best endeavours, to believe the Scriptures in their true sense, and to live according to it; this if they doe (as I hope many doe on all sides) truly and sincere­ly, it is impossible but they should believe aright Chilling. Relig. Pro­test. ansiv. to the Pre­fat. p. 18., (it had been mo­destly spoken had he said 'twas probable they should believe, aright; so might he have meant, that this their honest care and endeavour is an argument that God intends good unto their soules; but to say it is impossible but they should believe aright, makes this use of their best endeavours, either of it selfe to cause beliefe, or else to deserve it at Gods hands:) this doubtlesse his proud meaning, otherwise he had not affirmed in the following page, that God hath no reason to bee offended with those, which using their best endeavours are mistaken; and more hideously to this purpose in the following lines I say plainly & clearely, for he that speaketh obscurely and ambi­guously, and now declares himselfe plainly, surely hee hath no reason to be much offended if he bee mistaken.: which I wonder not so much at, when I consider from whom they come, from a Sceptick in Divinity, and a changeling in Religion; a just judge­ment on him, which so much relies on the strength of reason, and the use of his own best endeavours; but this my wonder, (or griefe ra­ther) what great ones he hath (great (I mean) for their then esteeme in the Christian world) ready prest as it were to bee his seconds: What else meane such large approbations, making way for his Soci­nianisme? Lament may we with David 2 Sam. 1.19., The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places, how are the mighty fallen? (Non homo voluntate suâ (saith Austine) adhuc in vitio liberi arbitrii claudicantis praevenit Deum, ut cognoscat & quarat eam gratiam, Lib. 7. contra Pe­lag.) mans will faultring, through the mis-use of his former freedome doth not prevent God, by use of his best endeavours by doing what he can, his using such a measure of industry in finding of truth, his humane prudence, and ordi­nary discretion, (as our Defender would make us beleeve in his fore­quoted passage) doth not, I say, prevent God in knowing or seeking his grace, which deservedly he may challenge, (sed praecedit miscri­cordissimâ gratiâ suâ Deus hominis ignorantis, & nondum se quaereutis [Page 32]voluntatem liberi arbitrii, ut eam se scire & quarere faciat,) but God with his most free grace makes the will of man willingly to finde and know him, which naturally and of himselfe is ignorant and carelesse of him: And as 'tis the free mercy of God which begins this great bu­sinesse of conversion in man, so 'tis also his free grace which furthers and perfects it. In this respect may we say, what in another God himself sayes 1 Sam. 3.12. When he begins he will also make an end, for 'tis he alone which of his good pleasure worketh in us both to will and to do Phil, 2.13. Know therefore in the last place, that graces though never so many and glorious, can­not afford just matter of self-boasting; let me therefore in the last place ask thee, Why dost thou boast thy selfe in thy spirituall graces?

What if in many assaults thou hast got the better of the field, be­come more then Conquerour, yet remember 'twas through Christ only, which loved you Ram. 8.37, and if the Lord had not been on thy side, mayst thou now say, if the Lord had not been on thy side, when not men only, but when the World and the Devill, nay when thou didst rise up a­gainst thy selfe, thou hadst been swallowed up quick. Againe how knowest thou whether or no the Lord owes thee a forsaking; and 'tis more then probable he doth and will pay it too, if thou too much pridest thy selfe, and turnest his graces into wantonnesse: When Ioh so securely and so proudly too, My root is spread out by the waters and the dew layes all night upon my branch, my glory is fresh in mee, and my how is renewed in my hand Iob. 29.19 and so triumphantly to the end of the Chapter: see how sadly the next chapter begins, Now they that are younger then me have me in decision, whose fathers I would have disdai­ned to have set with the dogs of my flock: Thus David too, no sooner had boasted that in his prosperity, he should never be moved, Lord by thy favour thou hast made my mountaine to stand strong, but presontly it followes, thou didst hide thy face from me, and I was troubled Psa. 30.6.7., Now if God once withdraw himselfe, suffers thee to fall in a skirmish, let Da­vids teares and groanes and sighes tell thee, how strong throwes 'twill cost ere thou recoverest thy selfe or thy right station. Once more, 'Twere better to have no grace at all (as the Father thinks) then that thou shouldst make it matter of self-boasting, [Audeo dicere (saith he) superhis continentibus expedit caders, ut in eo ipso in quose extollunt hu­milientur] I dare affirme it greater safety for the chast to fall, then to be proud of their chastity, that they might be humbled in that wherein they prided themselves: and the reason is good he gives, [quid enim prodest continentia si dominetur superbia?] what doth continency ad­vantage [Page 33]a man whom pride swels Aust. Serm. 57. in Mat.? He who thinks out of grace freely bestowed to get glory to himselfe, labours to the utmost to pull down what God was building, and to rebuild what God was pulling down, (i.) he is proud of his humility, humility being that which God seeks chiefly to erect, and pride that which hee seeks chiefly to pull down. A man in this case like Lots wife looks back on what the Lord was destroying, and 'tis the Lords meere mercy, that for an example he leaves not such a one as he left her at the half-wayes end, even in the midst of his journey to heaven; that it befals not him, as it did Eleazar who in fight first kild an Elephant, and afterward un­happily by its fall was kild by the Elephant: so 'tis I say Gods good­nesse, that whosoever having conquered pride, and afterwards is proud of his conquest (of his humility) is not at last overcome by this pride.

But me thinks the sad consequences of Peters boasts should suf­ficiently fright us from being guilty of the like; for as of him, so of others also is it generally observed both by Divines and Souldiers that the greatest Braggadochio's are the first which revolt and deny; nay rather then they'l hazard life or goods, the first that will for­sweare too: Wot you not that Peter which ere whilst made that great vaunt, Though all men should bee offended because of thee, yee will I never bee offended Malth. 26.33., immediately afterwards, ourst and swore he knew him not Vers. 76.? and pray observe that 'tis plaine from the content that this his revolting was not so much an argument of his weak faith, as a punishment of his presumption: There are a sort of Thraso­nicall Professours alwayes boasting how farre they dare goe in a good cause, which either ruffile it in a bad, or will not venture a being wer­shod in a good, men much like these Galli Insubros (Florus speaks of Lih. 2.) which had [corpora plus quàm humana] bore a good bulk and show, [quorum primus impetus iis major quâm virorum crat, sequens verò minor quàm foeminarum] who at the first onset were valiant almost beyond men, but in the heat of the battell co­wards below women: So these forward men (as they seeme) at the first like thornes make a great blaze and noise, yet suddenly goe out: notwithstanding some small penalty or disgrace they swell'd and bufled, yet now, now, when there is happily a necessity of endange­ring, if not leaving off all that we may follow Christ, now there is laying down of lives for his sake: now (as that Histerian speaks of these Galli) they have [quaddam simile oum nevibus,] like soow they quickly dissolve and are lost, either they goe beyond Sea, thereby to [Page 34]quit themselves of trouble and expence, or else (like Metius Fuffetius in Florus) they stand aloft and indifferent, resolving at last to side with the uppermost, or else [in malum otium resoluti] (as Tacitus of Tibe­rius Annal. l. 4.) prizing their own ease and quiet before the welfare of the State, they doe with Tiberius betake themselves [in insulam Capreas] into some nook or by-corner of the Countrey, caring not, so they may sleep in a whole skinne, what become of Liberty, or Religion: and of these wee may safely say, what Alexander of Darius his souldiers, [Temeritas est quam adhuc pro virtute habuistis, quae ubi pri­mum impetum effudit, velut quaedam animalia amisso aculco, torpet Qu. Curt. b. 4.], this fierce entrance, which some vaine-glorious and hasty men have made, was not (as fondly it was imagined) vertue and Religion, but pride and headinesse; when their first heate and pransing was past they suddenly flagged, like bees having lost their stings become droanes: In vaine therefore did such beat the eares of men wise and religious with that bold boast of Jehu's, [Come see my zeal for the Lord of hoasts] for who with halfe an eye sees not that therefore they went from us, because they were never of us? And so farre of the second branch of the first question, its ground and reason; a word only of application, and I shall forward to the last.

Applic. From what hath been laid against priding our selves in any thing we call our own, we may gather just matter of humiliation: be then perswaded not onely from the consideration of the frailty of the good things of the body, and the vanity, emptinesse, and uncertainty of the good things (we call Fortunes,—nete quaesiveris extra) that thou makest not conclusions of thy selfe according to thy flourishing in the world (thus farre the Heathen could goe) but also from the consi­deration of that miserable, dead and ignorant condition thou art in by nature, renounce thy selfe, (all carnall props and staies) and seek the Lords favour with an humble soule, that if thou wilt glory thou maist glory in the Lord, that thou maist have wherewithall truly to hug and glad thy selfe.

Nothing will more humble us then the meditation of our own wretchednesse by nature, 'twill allay our pride in us, 'tis like the Peacocks looking on his feet, it pulls down our plumes, to consider on what we are bottomed; our foundation is not onely in the earth, but in rotten putrified earth, we are not onely fraile but corrupted flesh. Tell me, could the proud and stour heart of Nebuchadnezzar be still soaring and swell, when from a King he was turned into a beast? and [Page 35]can wee be then proud and vaine-glorious boasters of our own natu­rall abilities, when we shall call to minde this miserable consequence of Adams fall, that from being Kings of the whole earth, we are turn'd into beasts, yes worsethen beasts, witnesse such hideous corruptions continually breaking forth which the worst of beasts were never guil­ty of? Shall Mephibosheth from the consideration of his lamenesse; and the fall of his parents be so humbled, that he bowed himselfe unto David and said, What is thy servant, that thou shouldst look upon such a dead dog as I am Sam. 9.8.? And can we, when we shall consider that we are all of us more lame spiritually, then ever Mephibosheth was corpo­rally, and infinitely more endammaged by the fall of our Parents, then he by his, continue still confident of our naturall strength? For, first, our lamenesse is much more then his; he maimed in one part only, we bruised all over; hee from the cradle onely, we from the womb; he procured his maimednesse from his Nurce, we from our first Parents: For as Austine of Adam Tom. T.P. 276. A., [Omnes ille unus fuere] all of us were he, and he was all of us. Againe, infinitely more are wee endammaged by their fall; he by the fall of his Parents lost onely an Inheritance to a little patch of earth, to a temporary kingdome, to an uneasie uncertaine crown: but we our right to the whole world, to an heavenly Kingdome, and an eternall weight of glory. Once more, if Leah by reason of her blear'd eyes, and the little favour she there­by found in the sight of Iacob, was afflicted, (surely saith she, the Lord hath look't upon my affliction Gen. 29.32.,) how will it afflict our soules then, when we shall truly know that we are not only as tender eyed as Leah, but as blind as Bartimens? For being alienated from the life of God (as by nature we are) We have our understandings darkned through the ig­norance that is in us by reason of the blindnesse of our hearts Ephes. 4.18.: and if the light that is in us bee dark, how great is that darknesse Matt. 6.23.? Nay, herein lies the great cause of our misery and humiliation, that we are not onely naturally blind, but giddy and unruly, notwithstanding this our blindnesse: by the reason of the disobedience of Adam, that curse is fallen on us, which was threatned to the disobedient Israe­lites Deut. 28.28., wee are smitten not onely with blindnesse, but with madnesse too: and as a man sober and blind understands his misery, and there­fore by keeping within or sitting still, is alwayes out of dangers and whereas one mad and blind exposes himselfe to variety of dangers and miseries: Even this our case, we are absolutely by nature blind, nay blindnesse it selfe; (Yee were sometimes darknesse (saith S.Paul Ephes. 58.) in the [Page 36]state of nature before you were called by the Word and Spirit, yee were not onely blind, but in the abstract blindnesse it selfe) and yet so mad are we that we strive by our naturall endeavours, by our strength of reason, and humane prudence and ordinary discretion, (I shall never make that passage of our Defenders sufficiently odious) to find out the truth, in so much that the Lord (we conclude) is unreasonable, if sa­ving truths are not understood by us, of if we are punished for not savingly understanding of them This conclusion took from the Pela­gians vid. Aust. Tom. 7. p. 458. D. And this misery we bring on our selves, even the misery following madnesse joyned with blindnesse, a groping at noone-day Deut. 28.28.29., even now when the light of the Gospel is gloriously and plentifully afforded us, when the Sunne is at its full shine and heigh: even now there is groping up and down for the truth, from Protestantisme to Popery they goe, and from Popery to Protestantisme, and thence are posting back againe, and meetly be­cause they are mad as well as blind, whereas were they truly sensible of their naturall blindnesse and darknesse, in stead of venturing abroad thus blind, they would with Bartimens, sit still, be quiet, and betake themselves wholly to Christ, crying out him Mar. 10.47.51., Iesus thou Sonne of of David, have mercy on me; This Lord I will, that I might receive my fight: Then shall it be with them, as 'twas with him, their faith shall make them whole, they shall receive their sight Vers. 52., then only may they venture abroad, and be able to follow Iesus on the way.

Lastly, can we imagine that the curse of Elisha on Gehezi 2 King. 5 ult., not bow and sink him, The leprosie therefore of Naaman shall cleave un­to thee and thy seed for ever, and he went out from his presence a le­per as white as snow? How can it then but humble us, to consider that as a just punishment of our first sinne, God hath said the leprosie of Adam shall cleave unto us and our seed for ever, and we are ever since borne leprous all over, no part of us free from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot Is. 1.6.? In primopeccato (saith Tilenus) persons corrupit naturam, in originali natura corrumpit personam Syntag. li. 1. cap. 56. Thes. 1., in the first sinne man corrupted nature, but since in originall sinne, out heredi­tary leprosie, nature corrupts the man; children even of the best and holiest Christians are borne covered with this leprosie, (quomodo pre­putium manet in tis quos genuerint circumcisi, & palea in fructu qui de purgato tritico nascitur Aust. Tom. 7. p. 276. c. just as children begot by cir­cumcised Parents bring notwithstanding their fore-skinne with them, or as the fruit of the best winnowed wheat spring up wrapt in chaffe: In a word, to consider what lamenesse and blindnesse, what [Page 37]bruises and leprosie, what crushings and depravednesse, as a just con­sequence of our first fall is brought on us, should mightily humble us, because Gods judgments are not laid on us so much to punish as to humble us for sinne, to bring us to the knowledge of that death and shame which is in sinne by afflicting us for it, [Thus saith the Lord, I will punish the world for their evill, and the wicked for their iniquity, and I will cause the arrogancy of the pround to cease, and will lay low the haughtinesse of the terrible Is 13.11.,] as if the Lord should say, to this end men shall suffer, not onely that they might be punished, but that they might bee humbled, that their arrogancy might cease, and that their haughtinesse might be laid low. God forbid, that the Church of Laodicea's case should be ours, either that we should be ig­norant of our miserable condition by nature, should not know that we are wretched and miserable, poor, & blind, & naked, and not knowing thus much, should think our selves sufficienly rich and wanting no­thing; and upon these false thoughts swell and extoll our selves, build castles in the ayre, promise our selves safety, and salvation to be got by our own naturall strength and abilities, when truth is, these will prove castles in the ayre indeed, weak and nothing: And so much of the second branch of the first Question, the third fol­lowes.

Branch 3 Quest. 1 To what end dost thou boast thy selfe? it being already manifested that there is no just reason why thou poor fraile nothing man shouldst boast thy selfe, and secondly, that thou hast nothing whereof thou maist justly boast. We shall have the lesse labour to prove, thou canst have no right end in thy boasting; let mee therefore in a few words ask thee, to what end dost thou boast thy selfe? But alas, I may not expect an answer to my question, for I am confident that the veriest Captaine, the highest crested of this proud Regiment would blush to acknowledge the empty fond end their vaunting aimes at, and I wish that they would blush also to heare it, that the rest may discover and laugh at them; for I purpose to speak truth for them, and try whether their guilty faces will confesse what their tongues dare not: (Hearken) the whole onely maine end of these selfe-boasting men is mearely and nothing else but the Euge, and the Bellè, the popular, Oh brave, oh admirable, oh honest! The clap and cry, the throat and ap­plause of the giddy multitude of wondring ignorants, (risum tenea­tis amici?) 'Tis a just complaint of the French mans Mountaig. Essay l, 2.6.16. that wee usually empanell and select a jury of men out of a whole County [Page 38]to determine of an house or an acre of Land, but the judgment, and determination of our selves, we referre to the idle breath of common people, [An quicquam stultius, quèm quos singulos contemnes, eos aliquid putares esse universos?] can their be a greater folly then to esteeme of their full cry, whose particular mouthes thou wouldst scorne?

What is glory if thou hast nothing else to make it good? nay if thou hast a substance whereof that is the shadow, yet still may it be askt, Gloria quantalibet quid erit? What is the prayse and esteem which men afford thy vertues, which is so blind and unequall, that well may it be termed a shadow: For as the shadow is never justly proportio­ned to the dimensions of thy body; so nor this to thy desert: the worlds esteeme like the shadow in the morning and beginning of thy Sun when thou first appearest, and art cryed up, is farrelarger then thy desert, but in the midst and prime of the day, when thou art best and most deserving, then usually this thy shadow comes farre short of thee, thou shalt not have halfe the glory thou meritest: and as a shadow sometimes goes before the body, and sometimes followes af­ter, so many steale glory from the ignorant world ere their desert cals for't, and some again whose lives have been excellently good & exem­plary have dyed in disgrace, yet their works and glory have followed them Rev. 14.13., and their names smell sweet upon earth. Let then children, and Poets, Players, and Painters, hunt after the clap and cry of the times; let light tottering Christians follow the fashion even in re­ligion too; let Popelings hug and vaunt themselves in their outside boasting and meerely ceremonious devotions: but let us, us whose hope and aime 'tis to be those little ones, (our Saviour speaks of Malli. 18.6.) little in our own conceits, and little in the worlds; let, I say, us neglect­ing the vaine empty glory the world affords, earnestly seek after the massie and weighty glory, humility shall enjoy in heaven, a glory of that bulk and substance, that where David sayes, [thou O Lord art my glory Psal. 3.3.] the originall signifies his weightinesse and gra­vity; which place I beleeve, S. Paul had respect unto, when hee call'd it an exceeding eternall weight of glory 2. Cor. 4.17. And here I thought to make the application of this third branch, the continuance of this exhorta­tion, hoping to have some of these tinkling Cymbals, these outside men hereby to be perswaded off from their affectation of vaine-glory, but I have considered that there is more good to be done upon these fawning Curs by a knock then by a gentle put-off; I shall therefore change my intended exhortation into a reproofe.

Applic. There are a sort amongst us, that saile only with a popular wind, they continue not good and fast out of the sound of a Bellè or an Euge, which they so greedily thirst after, that they had rather have an O brave, bellowing in their eares by the ignorant rout, then a Well done good and faithfull servant, sounded to their consciences by their Saviour: and this our misery, that not some few of the lower forme only, but those of the highest, some otherwise fit for the sterne, great ones ('tis to bee feared) live by this ayre. To see a little Spaniell or Tumbler with his sneaking and fawning to beg a commending clap on the side, or spetting in the mouth is somewhat tolerable; but to see a great old Mastiffe riggle for it, after the same ridiculous gesture is extreamly odious. In like manner to see a Player or Fencer to expect or take courage from the clap or shout of giddy Spectatours, 'tis as pardonable as usuall; but to see this old States-man, or t'other great Souldier, which ought to bee serious and in earnest, Chamelion-like to live by the common aire, to wax cold or hot in their weighty employments according to the cry of vulgar Ignorants, 'twould make a man lose both patience and modesty; and tell this great Lord or t'other great man, that the Compasse he steares by, is unworthy either his blood place, honour, or calling, and that this common aire he now lives by, is of all aires most uncertaine and altering, and may through sudden dislike become sufficiently thick and noisome to stifle or poyson him, and that happily not undeserving. For to speak truth, the vaine glorious ones of our times, are the lowest and unworthyest that ever I read or heard of. History wil tell you that Scevola burnt his own hand off; Zeleucus suffered one of his own, and another of his Sons eyes to bee boared out; Decius flung himselfe into the midst of a bloody and raging Army, intending thereby to become a sacrifice for his Countrey; and Brutus too whipt and beheaded his two Sons in one day, and all these moved by the same ground and principle, even as the Historian reports of that act of Brutus his (favore civium Flor. lib. 2.) to gaine favour from the people: and what spirit and resolution this spark of vaine-glory put into some Christians in the Primitive times, Doctor Donne tells you Pseudo-Mart., whereas he excellently discovers, and right­ly blames their inordinate affectation of Martyrdome. But alas, the vaine-glory-hunters of our times, though that only byasses them, yet can it not thus strongly byasse them; though (favor civium) be the thing they onely aime at, and the wheele these puppets onely move by, yet base as they are, base below Christians in the infancy [Page 40]of the Church, nay base below Heathens, yet will they not venture on any danger or hazzard any losse to gaine or continue it Let these take home that of Tertullians, [haec ethnicorum exempla non sine causâ Dominus in seculum admisit, sed ad nos & nunc exhortandos, & in illo die confundendos, si reformidaverimus pati pro veritate in salutem, quae alii affectaverunt in perditionem Lib. ad Martyr.], these forenamed examples of the Heathens God did not in vaine, but for us admit of, both for our present encouragement, and for our shame and confusion, if we shall through sca [...]e shrink from under-going these miseries for the truth unto eternall salvation, which they for vaine-glory only affected unto their condemnation. The necessary brunts, hazzards and troubles, these our present distractions put good men upon, abun­dantly discover these empty quelque choses. Now, even now, our Sa­viour sayes unto them, If you'l follow me, shew your selves my Dis­ciples, goe and venture all that you have for me, and you shall have treasures in heaven: like the young man in the Gospel upon the like injunction and tryall, they are not only sorrowfull, beginne to flag and to be discontented, to repent that they have gone so farre, stickled so much for Christ, but with the young man too, they begin to de­part, (shame to them) and forsake him, and upon the same ground too, as the young man there did Ma [...] 2.19.21.22., because they have great possessions: when their store of Land, or great Houses come in question, then farewell reputation and popularity, these shall no longer keep them in trouble or danger, they will then tell you, as the Spaniard sayes truly of such Fanse [...]. serm. 37., [That obligation of Religion is not so precise a thing that we should for the same adventure either our goods, persons, or peace of the State: That which a States-man is most interested in, is the profit and benefit of the people, and by no meanes ought he to draw too much envie upon them for cause of religion:] So true is that of S. Pauls, [Not many wise men after the flesh, not many noble are called Cor. 1.26.]: And that of our Saviours, [Arich man shall hardly enter into the Kingdom of Heaven Matt. 19.23.]. And so much be spoken of the first part of the question in generall, and of its three particular branches; in the last place fall wee upon its second part, I say in the last place, because my meditations on the first question have enlarged themselves so much farther then at first was intended, that I shall have no time to handle the last questi­on, unlesse I touch on it in the application of the second.

Quest 2 Why dost thou boast thy selfe in mischiefe? To justifie this carnest expostulation of my Psalmist, I shall shew you out of the sacred [Page 41]History what a searfull and hideous mischiefe this boaster, whether Saul the Tyrant, or Doeg the bloody misleading informer, was guilty of, and leave it to your after meditations to make the conclusion, whether or no they have just cause to boast of it, or the Psalmist to be amazed and lost at their boasting. David was so much in the peoples eyes, [Saul hath slaine his thousand and David his tenne thou­sands 1 Sam. 18.7.,] that he therefore became lesse in Saul's, [and Saul eyed Da­vid from that day forward vers. 9.,] This emulation, or rather envie bred wrath, the wrath a murderous intention, [and Saul cast a javelin, for he said, I will smite David even to the wall with it vers. 11.,] So much danger did David finde, there was in deserving and being thought well of by the people; the Kings violence thus missing its aime, he turnes his rage into wiles, of an Ajax becomes an Ʋlysses, drops preferment to ensnare him vers. 21.; afterwards upon Ionathans plaine dealing pacifica­tion is made and the King binds it with a solemn Oath, [As the Lord liveth he shall not be slaine 1 Sam. 21.6,] and immediately breaks that Oath and Pacification, and through the evill Spirit that was upon him, sought a­gain to smite him to the wall with his Javelin vers. 10.; anon after David being certified by Ionathan of his Fathers murderous intentions 1 Sam. 20. à ver. 37. ad 41., was forc't to flie for his life, and in his flight betook himselfe to Ahimelech the Priest for reliefe and succour, and so well told he his tale, that he got of him the Shew-bread, and Goliah's Sword 1 Sam. 21 àver. 6. ad 9. But see the ground and Author of this great mischiefe, Doeg was then in the Temple, and heard all, (as 'tis the peculiar lot of Gods people to fall into the hands of Doegs, treacherous and deceitfull people) this sneaking Parasite carries and aggravates the businesse to Saul, [I saw the Sonne of Iesse comming to Nob to Ahimelech the Priest, and he enquired of the Lord for him Sam. 22.9.10.], and what of that? 'twas after treason and conspiracy the King enquired, [sed ea ratio est adulatorum, ut si principem calentem videant, velint eum incenderc, & ex stulto prorsus insanū facere Pet. Mar­tyr in loc.,] but such is the condition of flatterers that they'l blow a heated Tyrant into a flame, and turne his folly into madnesse; Upon this false information Ahimelech and the rest of the Priests with all of their Families were sent for ver. 11.; they come, Saul becomes both the accuser and the Judge, and presently falls upon the tryall, [Heare now thou Sonne of Ahituh, and he answered, Here am I: and Saul said unto him, Why have yee con­spired against me ver. 12.13.?] But wherein laid the conspiracy? in relieving a man faithfull to his God and Prince? [And who is so faith full amongst all thy Servants as David, which is the Kings Son in Law? [Conjuratio [Page 42]est consensus aliquorum contra rempub: Pet. Mar­tyr, Ib.]. The conspire, which mis­chievously plot against the Common-Wealth: [he goeth at thy bidding and is honourable in thy house]; did he then begin to enquire of God for him vers. 14.15.? i.e. is this the first time I enquired for him? or being thy Son-in-law, and thy faithfull Servant, I did not so much enquire of God for him, as for thee. At last knowing he was to deale with a Tyrant, whom reason, law or right would nothing move, hee gives over pleading and falls to begging, [Let not the King impute any thing to thy Servant, for thy Servant knew nothing of this more or lesse ver. 15.]: What if you had Ahimelech? would you not therefore have relieved him, because the King unjustly persecured him? would that have beene faire dealing (think you?) If others had been of this minde, he had never overcome the Tyrants cruelty. But now I see that our Priests (as they desire to be cald) are not the first that would rather renounce a just cause, then displease an unjust man: Our cruell High-Priest, violent and peremptory as he was, did with his power so brow-beat and dare all the rest (as one of themselves lately and pub­likely confest) that they had but one voice amongst them all, the rest being but his ecchoe's, his dictates out-nois'd those of their con­science: for woe had been to them who had done otherwise, who had relieved any though never so innocent and religious, whom his Grace had slung his Iavelin at, sent his Citation for, or once cal'd Puritane —Rubet auditor, cui frigida mens est.] But to goe forwards, would this Priest his closing with Saul serve his turne? no cer­tainly, [For the King said, Thou shalt surely die Ahimelech, thou and all thy Fathers house ver. 16.:] The sentence is past, between which and ex­ecution some respite ought to be, but no such matter now, he immedi­ately sayes unto the foot-men that were about him Turne and slay the Priests of the Lord ver. 17., fearing happily lest cooling and comming to himselfe he might on better consideration not have been guilty of so much innocent blood: But wherefore should they be slaine? Because they knew when David fled and told it not unto me: but where is the witnesse? Doeg you'l say did affirme it: but is not this against the known Law Deut. 17.6, [At the mouth of two or three witnesses shall hee that is worthy of death, die, but at the mouth of one witnesse he shall not die?] But see, the honest Guard farre honester then their master, would not put forth their hand to fall upon the Priests of the Lord vers. 17., they well know he was but Gods Minister for their good, & mandatorius siquid vult facere contra mandatum, id jubet esse irritum et. Mar­tyr, Ib., and what­soever [Page 43]a Commissioner injoynes beyond his Commission is voide, and ought not to be obeyed. But if one won't another will, the Devill will alwayes supply Tyrants with suitable instruments; Doeg seemes to be glad of the office, and resolute to doe whatsoever the King should command him, never interposing that honest condition of the Israe­lites to Ioshua, [onely the Lord be with thee Iosh. 1.17.] and forthwith he fals to work, fell on the Priests of the Lord, and slew on that day fourescore and five persons, that wore a linnen Ephod 1 Sam. 12.18.: he slew the Priests, the Priests of the Lord, he slew men unarm'd, men consecrated to God, he slew old men and women, he slew children and sucklings, to whom Scythians and Parthians have shown mercy in the time of the cruellest warre; and to make up the summe, he slew so many innocents, he slew them, he their informer was their executioner; first bely'd them with his tongue, and then butchered them with his hand: chuse which you will now, either Saul or his instrument, and you cannot but confesse there is cause more then enough of my Psalmists question and excla­mation, [Why dost thou Saul, thou envious, malitious, unjust, bloody Tyrant, or why dost thou Doeg, thou sneaking base informing Parasite, thou cruell murdering butcher, why dost thou boast thy selfe in this so unheard of a mischief?] But happily, & on good grounds, Davids won­der may be that any whatsoever should boast in any whatsoever mis­chief, & therfore I shal endeavor to make good the question in general.

And now (me thinks) I am brought into a wildernesse, the subject I am fallen on, is so large and fearefull; should I let fly my Medi­tations, with that bitternesse and liberty wherewith such mad and pro­digious boasters ought to be took up, I should lose both you and my selfe. But the sutablenesse of my first questions businesse, both to our times and our present occasion, tempted me to so much over-large­nesse, that I could not but in equity promise brevity in the following questons: that therefore I may bee as good as my word, I shall not keep you long in this wildernesse. Mad and prodigious boasters have I cald them, and truly both these they are. First, they are mad, for who but a mad man would boast that he had given himself his deaths wound? [ [...]] sinne is the death of the soule Ezek. 33.12.13. Who but a mad man would boast of that heavie burden, he is forc't night and day to sink under? [a heavie burden are my iniquities (faith David) they are too heavie for me Psal. 38.4.]. This heavie burthen the Prophet cals a Talent of Lead Zach. 5.7.; yes, heavier and more intolerable then Hell or the Devill himselfe, for 'twas sinne made Hell, and 'twas sin [Page 44]sunk the Devill into it; without it he cannot adde a dram weight to depresse or keep us from making towards heaven; nay, though un­willingly, hee furthers us in the way; but 'tis sinne alone, and only which keeps us down. Again, who but a mad man would boast in what arrerages he runnes with his Creditours, vauntingly publish, how all hee hath is morgaged, and that Vsury eates him up apace? 'tis truth indeed some may, and many do, (base and unworthy as they are) pretend poverty, say, that they are ready to starve, that thereby they might starve Christs cause. But I cannot deeme that man truly himselfe, which really boasts how bravely he is undone. Now to obey Gods law is a debt due from us to him, [Cursed is hee that continueth not in all the words of the Law to doe them Deut. 27.26. and all the people shall Amen:] that obedience is our debt we cannot deny, our consciences seale to this bond, the counterpane of it is wrote even in every na­turall mans heart Rom. 2.15; every sinne then being a transgression of the Law is an arrerage, and upon this arrerage the soule is morgaged, and without repentance lost and forfeited, the sinner is utterly undone, he shall be delivered up unto the tormentor untill he hath paid all his debt Mat. 18.34. Once more, who but a mad man will boast that he is a loath­some creature? a wicked man is a loathsome man (saith Solomon Pro. 13.5.) loathsome in Gods eyes, [my soule loaths him, saith the Lord, Zach. 11.8.] loath­some in the eyes of good-men; and not only loathsome, but infecti­ous too: the Prophet therfore resolved not to be in a wicked mans com­pany Psal. 26.5.: Lastly, it makes him loathsome and contemptible in the eyes of his nearest friends, yea of those friends which ought according to the Laws of God & nature not only to love, but to reverence him. Thus the Prophet of Icrusalem, by reason of sinne, [Icrusalem hath grievously sinned Lam. 1.18 therefore they that honoured her dispised her;] and though for want of faith, and by reason of the weaknesse of spirituall judge­ment wee cannot discover the filth and uglinesse of sinne, yet doubt­lesse at Christs second comming, when hee shall be revealed from Heaven, this also shall bee revealed, even what an ugly noisome creature an impenitent sinner is; then (saith the Prophet speaking of Doomes-day and sinners) they shall be an abhorring to all flesh Is. 66. ult.

Againe, as these boasters in mischiefe are mad, so are they also pro­digiously wicked; for who but a man prodigiously wicked would boast that God is fallen out with him? such a boaster is he which boasteth in sinne, for 'tis sinne that separates between us and our God Isa. 59.2.: secondly, every sinne is a contempt against God (quo ejus pracepta contemnimus) [Page 45]temnimus] saith Bernard Serm. 31. de mod. bene viven. di.: how prodigiously then doth he contemn God, which boasts that he hath contemned him? Thirdly, sinne is that which excludes us heaven, and flings us into hell, that which de­prives us of all that we call good, and brings on us all that is misera­ble; 'tis the greatest of curses, and the worst of judgements. Hence Saint Paul labouring to expresse how much Christ had suffered for us; sayes [he was made sinne for us 2 Cor. 5.21.:] How prodigiously wicked then is he which boasts of the greatest misery that man is capable of? Lastly, sin being that alone which crucified the Lord of life, which tore our Saviours head with thorns, pierc'd his side, & nail'd his feet, which made him sweat blood & water, which put the gall and vinegar to his mouth, and wrung from him that bitter complaint, [My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me] Tell me then, sadly tell me, is not he prodigiously wicked which boasts in that which after so cruell and shamefull a manner crucified our Saviour?

Nor is this boaster in mischiefe mad onely and prodigiously wic­ked, but which must necessarily follow, and be supposed, is in a despe­rate and forlorne case: and for these two reasons. First, because such a one sinnes with the fullest swing and willingnesse, without any re­luctancy and scruple, nothing hath hee of the Spirit in him, which might cause opposition, or pawces, (The words of his mouth are int­quity and deceit, as my Psalmist of him, he hath left off to be wise and to doe good, hee deviseth mischiefe upon his bed, hee setteth him­selfe. i. e. gladly goes on; in a way that is not good, Ps. 36.3. who being past feeling, hath given himselfe over to worke all uncleannesse and greedi­nesse Ephes. 4.19. Secondly, because these of all men are farthest from Christ and heaven, being farthest from repentance, whose sinnes are so farre from being a load and heavy burden unto them, that they glory in their shame. 'Tis with these boasters as with men dived to the bottom of the water, as long as they lye in the water, they are nothing sensible of its weight, but once recovering out would be overwhelmed with a small quantity of it: So these boasters being sunke to the bottome, almost as low as hell, and lying there under never so many and hi­deous sinnes, are never senfible of their load and burden, whereas to a man by Gods grace recovering out of them, one and the least sin will be a talent of Lead. And so much of this second Question; a short ap­plication, and I have done.

Applic. And here let's pawse a while, & with our best and serious thoughts admire and lament the miserable condition of our land, wherein so many of these madmen, of these prodigies, of these desperately forlorn [Page 46]wretches swarme and spread amongst us. Go abroad and listen, and you shall hear the Drunkard boast how many swine he made the last night: you shall hear the Ruffler boast what a new handsome full­mouthed oath he hath got: the Goat, how many women he hath abu­sed: and the Fox, how many he hath over-reached and cousened:

But alas! these, though miscreants, are but novices and bunglers in respect of some closer workers, and deeper instruments of the devill, who first guild over sin with the name of vertue, and boast of it under that name. Take some instances. Such are those, which lest they should lose friends or credit, dare not openly professe how good they are at lies, yet will they affirme, that hand some lying is but policy, and boast how many they have over-reacht with thi their policy; Per­jury by no meanes will they justify, yet will they tell you that it is the part of a wise States-man, in case that the keeping of an oath hin­ders a project, to invent some cleanly shift, whereby it may be eluded, and boast how excellent they are at these shifts. Luke-warmnesse, a Laodicean temper, may not be countenanced, yet this will they call moderation, & boast themselves in this their moderatiō. Obstinacy in a wrong way, twere shame to patronize, yet this will they call a brave spirit, and boast of their own stout hearts: they will praise a Iosiah for going on peremptorily in a way contrary to Gods command, though he gets nothing therby but his own death, and their empty commen­dation 2 Chron. 35. v. 21.22 23. Conspiracy, which is a plot against the Common-wealth, (as Peter Martyr hath defined it) this they call fighting for the Pro­testant Religion, and yet impudently affirme what Augustine of Heretiques [Nihilaliud laborant, nisi non invenire quod quaerunt August. Tom. 1. p. 516.1.] that the end of their sweat, expence and hazard, is not to enjoy what they seeme to fight for, viz. the Protestant Religion in its truth, purity and universality: and there are (I dare say) many thousands of Pa­pists and Libertines now in armes, which were they put to their oathes would confesse thus much. 'Twas madnesse, say they, and bar­barous in Nero to set Rome on fire, and afterwards sing and rejoyce at the flames, yet these very same men, Iesuites happily and Iesuited per­sons, have of late set three Kingdomes on fire, and whether they laugh at the flames I know not, sure I am they continually adde fuell to them: yet this cumbustion they call a pretended reconciliation, and boast themselves in it. To delude and misuse a sweet and fast friend, hath somewhat of Iudas in it, say they, yet so to intangle their best and [Page 47]greatest friend, as Darius his base Courtiers entangled him, (quod eo re­rum ventum est, ut tam periculosum non credere suis, quam falli Q. curt. l. 5. That it is equally dangerous to him not to beleeve them, and to be deceived; this they call their master-piece of wisedome, and boast themselves in it; these, these are they which are come to such a height of Atheisme, which a re so much beaten and hardened in their subtle hypocritical maximes, that they will not move one step out of the way, which the Devil & Machiavill have chalkt out to them; and so resolute and petemptory too in that way, that we may say of them as Erasmus of Heretiques (facilius eos vinci quàm persua­deri [...]rasa [...] ad Hier. lib contra Lucif. 'Tis easier to overcome, then alter them. Thus have I made some discovery, greater might have beene, had I not promised brevity, of the mad, prodigious, desperately for lorne boasters of our land, that you might admire, and lament the miserable condition of our times. But oh! take heed that you be not so lost in admiration, that you forget to lament, like a gazing childe made forgetfull of his chiefest errand, for to this end was the discovery made, (God knowes my conscience) not to make them a laughing, but a mourning stocke, that you might be humbled in behalfe both of them, and our land. For hereby shall you secure your selves how­oever they escape, or the Kingdome for their sakes Ezek [...] 14. ad 6. And so much of the second Question, I should now forward to the third and last, but the time hath much over-run me, let us therfore take up here from this Text & forward, to that other before me, a Text like wise speaking the frailty and nothingnesse of man. For if you desire farther ground for these questions, Lo this spectacle of mortality may be it; a wise, able, strong Gentleman suddenly cut off, w^ch tels you, that our footing in this world being so slip­pery, 'tis folly for such fraile weak men as we are, to boast; which tels you, that wealth, wit, and friends in the last, & needfullest times failing, 'tis fol­ly to boast of them; which tels you that now he is gone, the common voyce, neither hurts nor pleasures him, neither lessens nor addes to his joy; 'tis folly therefore to hunt after it. Saint Paul wishes us so to run that we may obtaine, so to runne, not as one that beateth the ayre in vaine, for the applause of the giddy multitude, but for a prize, for an incorruptible Crown v. 25. Again so run, our life here compared to a reace, not onely for its shortnesse, which is a few paces, but for its trouble somenesse also, 'tis a running, which is no ordinary paine and toyle: Truly therefore spake the Patriarch not onely few but evill also are my dayes Gen. 47.5.: this race some give over at their first setting out, children dying in their Gradles: others after a pace or two past, in their youth: some in the mid-way, in their best man-hood are cut off: most, as this our friend, are out of breath ere they reach the stayed paces of threescore yeares. Let us not therefore boast [canere ante victori­arn] vaunt as though we had obtained the prize, ere we come to our jour­nies [Page 48]end: but let us so run, so zealously, and so humbly, working forth our salvation with feare and trembling, that we may obtaine. If you are not yet satisfied, but desire more ground for my Questions, Loe here a specta­cle of humility before you.

And thus am I fallen upon my last message, a message I am confident God wisht me to deliver; namely, to recall and make known somethings excellent, and exemplary from the life and death of my worthy friend, I say it againe, my worthy friend. I may not boast, my Text forbids it, but I joy in our past relation Amaba­tur a me plurimùm nec tamen vicius. Plin. l. 2. Ep. 13. And here I would not be mistaken, conclude not so unworthily of me, that his wealth, place, or friends, put mee on this discourse, though to speake truely, so runnes the fashion of the world: if a man be poore, though never so good and holy, yet shall he passe away in si­lence, as we find nothing said of Lazarus, but that he dyed, whereas it is said there of the rich man, not onely that he dyed, but that he was buried too Luk. 16.22., saith a Commentator of ours, there was noyse and pompe, much done and said at his Funerall: So many [ [...]] shall you have, many Hack­ney praisers in black, which at the Funerals of great and rich men, though they departed as gluttonous, as mercilesse as Dives, never leave prating till they have plac't them in heaven. But I know where I am, I know not one­ly in whose presence, but in whose stead I stand, of what therefore I am to speak, let me use Iobs words. Loe mine eyes have seene all this, mine eares have heard and understood it, what you know, the same do I know also Iob 13.1.2. And as in my following discourse I am resolved to be true, so am I necessarily forc'd to be briefe, & for these reasons. First, because of my present weaknes; Second­ly, the scantling of time allowed me as for meditaton, so now for delivery; Thirdly and lastly, to be otherwise, I should much injure my gone friend, who was a profest enemy to multitude of words; and alas, why should wee with an overlarge discourse keep our griefes awake, & wounds a bleeding? Why should we speak much of him whom we can no longer enjoy, unless it be the more to trouble us that we cannot enjoy him? Briefely and tru­ly then thus much.

I intend not here a genealogy, to acquaint you with his birth & descent, this is the Heraulds businesse, & it were a disparagement to so much worth to be beholding to Ancestours for a commendation, for armes, and titles, —Vix ea nostra voco— they may not well be called our owne, nor thinke I it matter of weight to acquaint you with his breeding, since his conversa­tion confest how ingenuous it was: No, nor need I tell you, how deare a husband he was, how tender a father, or how sweet a neighbour: behold this peale of groanes, and mist of sighes, tels me so much. And to deale tru­ly, this I purposely omit (though hee was excellently glorious in all these Relations) lest I might bethought like the Orators Pliny speaks of Panegy. ad Traian., to [Page 49]upbraid the living of their vices, whilst I commemorate the vertues of the dead. These five more eminent excellencies I shall commend to your me­mories and imitations.

The first is humility, which considering his breeding, parts, place, and calling was admirable: I cannot call to minde that word, looke, or action that ever spake him proud: nor was he one of our cunning boasters, who oft in their own dispraises notably vaunt it, challenge the lowest place, that they may be forc't to the highest, unawares often speak truth, cry [alas they are no-body,] even then tempting some base Sycophant with the expence of a lie or two to make them Some-body. Nor was he like him, of whom Ta­citus speaks, [arte quâdā ostentator] an artificiall boaster. For this I counted his great fault, even (celata virtus) that through a natural reservednes he did not so shine forth before men, as justly he might, and was required of him.

The second, his true heartednesse; a fitter man to make a friend of I ne­ver yet knew; oh, he was wise, and faithfull, hee did not quickly knit the knot, not easily familiar, and intimate, but once having made it, he was sure and fast: not only was his mouth open to his friend in advice, comfort, and just encouragement, but his hands and purse too for reliefe and succour; no nor his mouth and purse only, but his heart also, willing was he to enlarge his joyes by communicating them, and ease his grief by venting; and this, this openness especially speaks a true friend, whence our Saviour to his Disci­ples, Henceforth I call you not Servants, for the servant knoweth not his Lords will, but I have called you friends; and mark the reason; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you Iohn 15.15.: The other two of­fices of friendship may be dissembled; I may through a self-end teach my tongue Parat-like to prate the language of love, when my heart swels and repines at what it sayes. I may again, through a self-end hazard my goods and credit, and my life too seemingly in the behalf of my friend, when 'tis nothing so; as there are some, I am confident, at this present which pretend the honour and safety of their deceiv'd friend, and under this pretence mer­chant-like venture both lives and fortunes, when in truth and indeed their only aime is liberty for their profaneness and toleration, if not admittance, for their heresie: as Hierome of Jovinians Disciples, (non tam te loquentem se­ctantur, quā vitiis suis favent) so I of these, they do not so much adhere to their friend, as favour their own vices. But I cannot dissemble either my own friendship, or suspect another, when I freely open my bosome unto him; and this did he often unto his friend, this to my self not only in his sick­nesse, as to his Minister, but in his health as to his friend: He left it to weaker lesse knowing men, who skill'd not to chuse a friend, to make use of Bias his wise advise, (ama tanquam osurus) to love so reservedly, that in chance of a breach, you may not lie at the mercy of your supposed friend, lest when he [Page 50]proves a knave, you prove your self a fool in being so grosly mistakē in him.

The third, his temperance; and that in meat, drink, and recreations; the covenant Iob made with his eyes Iob 31.1., he made with his appetite also, to keep himselfe unspotted of uncleanness, gluttony and drunkenness; the feare Iob had of his sorrows Iob 9.28., he had of all his passions; even in sicknesse, even in his extreamest fits I could not discover the least token of fear or anger, except it was the feare of God, & an holy indignation against himselfe for sin. This vertue was most eminently exemplary in him, and God forbid, that the neglect of so excellent a pattern should aggravate both your sins and judg­ment, yours especially, to whom by reason of your neare relations, this grace shined out most gloriously. For my part it is my wish, and shall be my prayer, that his example may be of like force with Amaziah's, of whose Son it is Registred 2 Kings 15.3., That he was right in the sight of the Lord, and did according to all that his father Amaziah had done before him.

The fourth, his providence, care, and industry in the employment of that stock, talent, and calling the Lord had given him. To prove this I have a double argument, the voyce of the Court, whereof hee was a grave member: And this it was, of which I have been an eare-witnesse, none more exact, more carefull, more faithfull then hee: se­condly, the blessing of God upon his honest endeavours, the Lord crown'd it with a large portion, and his lot fell in a faire ground. But en­vy may object; this rather an argument of covetousnesse then providence; 'tis to be feared he made too much hast to be rich, and therfore could not be innocent, getting so much in so little time. Into this snarling mouth I fling these answers. First, his time of thriving was no little time, he was a long gatherer, and ever frugall; and secondly, he had many occasionall additi­ons to his estate," and is well known to you all: This to free him from making too much hast to bee rich. Again that he was not covetous, these reasons prove: First, he dislik't, sure I am, ever since I knew him, the un­just griping trade of usury: Secondly, he never made purchase, as I have heard not himselfe only, but some neighbours affirm, wherein he gave not of the most: Thirdly and lastly, he was liberall at his door, and hospitable in his house: Whosoever shall be apt to condemn him out of this opinion, that thrift and providence, and the Lords blessing on these, a joyning house to house, and land to land, cannot be without covetousnesse, this man is much out of the way: The truth doutblesse is quite of the other­side, those which are carelesse of their own estates are most covetous of their neighbours, witnesse Cataline, of whom Salust [sui profusus, alieni appetens,] men oft spend that wit and time in taking from others, which should have been imployed in keeping or encreasing their own, becom­ming thus at the same time theeves, and loyterers: Some the desire of o­thers [Page 51]goods, and skill in cheating, leaves them carelesse of their own; others againe wasting their own estates become covetous of their neighbours.

The fifth, as the last and chiefest; his constancy in the observation of reli­gious dayes and duties; never since God sent me to you, doe I remember, that ever he absented himselfe from our holy meeting, unlesse sicknesse or some undeniable and lawfull occasion detained him; constantly did he ob­serve set times of prayer in his Family. And so punctuall was he in the ob­servation of the Lords own day, that when the violent danger of a fit, and the earnestnesse of his friends (his Minister urging reasons for it) could not be perswaded that a Messenger should on that holy day travell for a Phy­sician, no not after our publike devotions were ended. But his Religion wil more brightly appeare, when as in the last and next place, you shall heare how religiously and thriftily he husbanded the time of his sicknesse.

Which was almost nothing else but a continued prayer, a praying al­wayes, a praying without ceasing. For his sicknesse seized him with such violence, & deadly symptomes, that it told him at first what he was to look for, wherefore he presently pronounced [ [...]] unto himself, resolv'd for death, and thereupon forthwith betook himself unto God in a long and seri­ous prayer, and unlesse it were in some necessary intermissions of rest, of re­ceiving either spirituall or temporall food and Physick, he continued in the same posture and action untill his last fit, which took him away praying: Nay, when he was quite tyred with the extremity of his fit, & sleep offered it selfe, he would oft refuse it, saying, he could not spare so much time from his devotions; and when I answered him that by rest he would be the better fitted and quickned for prayer, he replyed, but (oh!) I shal have ill thoughts get within me even in my sleep to my great hinderance: at last when I told him that such ill thoughts, that seized on him thus unwillinly, and were suddenly sorrowed for, awaking would as soon vanish and be pardoned; he was with much difficulty brought to admit of an houres intermission for that rest, which he so much wanted: Yet even then too did he manifest him­self part of the Church (of Christs Spouse) who though she slept, yet her heart waked Cant. 5.2. for seemingly to us asleep, yet many times the up-moving of his hands showed his heart was awaked unto God. But when he was perfect­ly awaked, with such earnestnesse even in his extreamest fits did he fasten his eyes, and hands, and heart too, (I dare say) towards heaven, that I be­lieve 'twas with him as with Stephen Acts 7.56. By faith he saw the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God, whom he then so ear­nestly plyed to pray the Father for him. He came at last to such a delight in prayer, that spending one whole almost even a terrible night of many threatning fits in this heavenly Colloquy and familiarity with God; and I asking him the morrow following, how he had sped that night: Oh said [Page 52]he, I have had many brave fits, and told me withall that God would not let him lose one fit, but ever after it he found his faith and comfort en­creasing, The Lord by them does work me (said he) and by degrees I creep unto him.

When we first sate about the great businesse of preparation for death, which truth is, ought to be the businesse and task of our whole life, I could not take the course usuall with me on the like occasions: first, to administer the Law, its exactness, terrors and curses on the disobedience, allowing some certain time and dayes for the working of it, ere I administred the Gospel: but by reason of the danger his fits threatned, I was forc't to make a con­fection of the Law and Gospel, to administer them mingled, and compoun­ded, acquainting him at the same time with terrours and comforts, threats and promises, hell and heaven, lest he might have been suddenly cut off in a desperate sorrow, or a false joy. And (God bee praysed) accordingly it wrought with him; now you should have his eyes fastened on the ground in token of humiliation, anon piercing the Heavens in token of confi­dence; now you should have his hands wrung in token of griefe, anon a­gain, held up in token of hope; now a teare in token of sorrow, and then a smile in token of joy; just like this Month of April, raine and Sun-shine, stormes and calm. But towards his end, these enter changes ceast, the calm begun to be full and glorious; he might have cryed out with the Church Cant. 3.11 12., Lo, the winter is past, the raine is over, the flowers appeare on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, the voyce of the Turtle is heard. For I ask­ing him whether or no his comfort did encrease, he answered me, excellent­ly, greatly; and how faith held out, hee replyed, strongly, even then when I could scarce hear him: Whereupon demanding of him (loath I was the the Devill should at last gull him) whether he could at the present resist unto blood, be burnt, undergoe the fiery tryall for his Saviours cause and glory; he answered me, gladly, gladly. Lastly, the Lord so much shewed himself unto him, gave him so full a view of his treasures, such a largetaste of those joyes that were laid up for him in heaven (as wee are charitably given to believe) that he underwent the extremity of his fits not with pa­tience only, but with comfort, and left the world, (his wealth, friends and pleasures) not out of a dull sense of the paine and agony of his sicknesse or a prophetick sensiblenesse of the miscries falling on this Kingdom, (which he would oft lament) nor made he in this respect a vertue of necessity, care­lesly left it because he could no longer enjoy it: this were like a condem­ned thiefe or traytor, who seem willing to lay down their lives, because they can no longer keep them: not in this, or that, or the other false respect did he welcome death, but therefore was with joy and cheerfulnesse dis­solved, because his faith assured him he should be with Christ.