NICHOL'S SERIES OP STANDARD DIVINES. 

PUEITAN PERIOD. 



Sfllitf) (Benecal preface 

By JOHN C. MILLER, D.D., 

LIKOOLN COLLEQE ; HONORABY CANON OF WORCESTER ; REOTOB OP ST MARTIN'S, BIBMINGHAIC 



THE 



WOEKS OP THOMAS ADAMS. 

VOL. I. 



COFNCIL OF PUBLICATION. 



W. LTNDSAT ALEXA27DER, D.D., Professor of Theology, Congregational Union, 
Edinburgh. 

THOMAS J. CRAWFORD, D.D., S.T.P., Professor of Divinity, University, 
Edinburgh. 

WILLIAM CUNNINGHAM, D.D., Principal of the New CoUege, Edinbiu-gh. 

D. T. K. DRUMMOND, M.A., Minister of St Thomas' Episcopal Church, Edin- 
burgh. 

WILLIAM H. GOOLD, D.D., Professor of Biblical Literature and Church His- 
tory, Reformed Presbyterian Church, Edinburgh. 

ANDREW THOMSON, D,D., Minister of Broughton Place United Presbyterian 
Church, Edinburgh. 



General ^I'tor. 

REV. THOMAS SMITH, M.A., Edinbdrqh. 



THE WORKS ( JUL « 1912 

OF 



THOMAS ADAMS: 



THE SUM OF HIS SERMONS, MEDITATIONS, AND 
OTHEE DIVINE AND MORAL DISCOURSES. 

By JOSEPH ANGUS, D.D., 

PRINCIPAL OF THE BAPTI ST COLLEGE, REGENT'S PARK, LONDON. 



VOL. L, 

CONTAINING SERMONS FROM TEXTS IN 
THE OLD TESTAMENT, &c. 



EDINBURGH: JAMES NICHOL 

LONDON : JAMES NISBET AND CO. DUBLIN : W. ROBERTSON. 

M.DCCC.LXI. 



EBINBtrROH : 

PRINTED BY BALLANTYNB AND COMPANT, 

PAUL'S WORK. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Editorial Note, ....,• vii 

Dedications — 

To the Earl of Pembroke, .... xiii 

To the Earl of Manchester, . , . , xv 

To THE Parishioners of St Bennet's, . , , xvii 

To THE Candid and Ingenious Reader, , , . xix 



SERMONS. 

L Politic Hunting Gen. XXV. 27, . 1 

II. Plain-dealing Gen. XXV. 27, . 19 

IIL The Soldier's Honour Judges V. 8, 9, . 31 

IV. The Sinner's Mouening-habit Job XLII. 6, . . 49 

V. Heaven MADE Sure Psalm XXXV. 3, 60 

VL A Generation of Serpents Psalm LVIII. 4, . 71 

VIL The Rage of Oppression Psalm LXVI. 12, . 81 

VIII. The Victory of Patience Psalm LXVI. 12,. 90 

IX. God's House Psalm LXVL 13, . 98 

X. The Sacrifice OF Thankfulness Psalm CXVIII. 27, 114 

XL God's Bounty : The First Sermon Pro v. IIL 16, . .137 

Xn. „ The Second Sermon... Pro V. IIL 16, . .148 



Vi CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

XIII. TfiK Fatal Banquet : Tue First Ser- 

mon Pkov. IX. 17, 18, . 158 

XIV. The Fatal Banquet : The Second Ser- 

vice Pro V. IX. 17, . . 175 

XV. The Fatal Banquet: The Beeaking- 

up OP THE Feast ,.Prov, IX. 17, , .198 

XVI The Fatal Banquet : The Shot Prov. IX. 18, . . 21-5 

XVII. The Fool and his Sport Prov. XIV. 9, . . 245 

XVIII. Mystical Bedlam Eccles. IX. 3, . . 254 

XIX. The Gallant's Burden Isaiah XXI. 11, 12, 294 

XX. The Sinner's Passing-bell Jer. VIII. 22, . .329 

XXI. Physic FROM Heaven Jer. VIII. 22, . .358 

XXII. England's Sickness Jer. VIII. 22, . . 394 

XXIII. „ „ (continued), 422 

XXIV. Heaven AND Earth Reconciled Dan. XII. 3, . . 448 

XXV. The Soul's Sickness : A Discourse, Divine, ]\roRAL, 

aj^d Physical, . . . . .471 



EDITOEIAL NOTE. 



Having undertaken tlie general editorship of this most important 
series of works after two volumes of it had been published, I embrace 
the opportunity aftbrded by the issue of the fii-st volume of the works 
of a new author, to state briefly the method that will be pursued in 
discharging the duties of that responsible office. 

The main object to be constantly aimed at, and so far as possible 
attained, is the issue of a complete and perfect text of the works to 
be included in the series. In most of the modern reprints of some 
of these works, passages have been left out, and expressions have 
been modified, on tlie plea that if the authors had lived in our days, 
they would not have written as they actually did. Such a mode of 
procedure would be altogether inconsistent with the objects and plan 
of the present series. We have nothing to do with what they might, 
or might not, have written in other circumstances, but with what 
they did write. The only change intended to be introduced into the 
works as originally published, is the substitution of the modem or- 
thography for the antique and capricious spelling. To some readers 
even this may seem unadvisable ; but the balance of advantage seems 
to be decidedly in its favour, as it will undoubtedly render the works 
more attractive to the great body of readers. The punctuation of 
the old editions is exceedingly faulty, and requires to be set aside 
altogether. 

In a few instances I have altered the forms of words that have 
become obsolete ; but I have substituted only what may be regarded 
as the modern forms of the same words, and that only where the old 
forms might puzzle ordinary readers. When there was no likeU- 
hood of this, I have retained the antiquated forms. No one, I think, 
will blame me for not changing, for example, the fine old words 
covetise and niggardice into covetousness and nifjcjardliness. There is 



TUl EDITORIAL NOTE. 

one instance in which I have systematically made a change, which 
some may regard as a change of words, but which I consider to be 
only a change of forms. Most readers must have noticed that the 
word its does not occur in the Authorised Version of the English 
Bible. Its place in that version is supplied by his. Adams, who 
was cotemporary with the authors of that version, in like manner 
never makes use of its. If, like them, he had used his for it, I should 
not have considered it necessary or proper to alter it. But he almost 
invariably uses the for zte.* In very many cases this sounds awk- 
wardly to a modern ear, and in some instances might prevent the 
iinmediate apprehension of the sense of a passage. For example, I 
doubt if the common proverbial maxim, '■ Virtue is its own reward,' 
would be at once intelligible to every reader under the form, * Virtue 
is the own reward.' Expressions similar to this are of constant 
occurrence in the earlier writings of the period embraced in this 
series, and I am not sure that some of them are not retained towards 
the beginning of this first volume of Adams's Works. After the 
printing had proceeded a little way, I adopted the resolution to dis- 
card the article, whenever it was manifestly the representative of the 
neuter possessive pronoun. When there could be any doubt of its 
being so used, I have allowed it to remain, although my own belief 
might be that it ought to be altered. To some it will appear that I have 
said more than enough about a small matter ; but it should be remem- 
bered that this explanation is given once for all regarding the text of 
one of the largest collections of works ever published in connexion. 

The original editions abound with typographical errors, and these 
I have corrected when it was perfectly manifest that they were such. 
I have also discarded the artificial form of printing the divisions of 
sermons and treatises, in which the authors and the printers of those 
days evidently prided themselves. The reader will find appended to 
this note, as a specimen, the divisions of one of Adams's sermons, 
^ The Black Saint.' This in the present edition is given thus : — 

' The material circumstances concerning both fort and captain, hold and 
holder, place and person, may be generally reduced to these three : — 

' I. The unclean spirit's egress, forsaking the hold ; wherein we have — 

'1. His tinroosling ; and observe, (1.) The j^erson going out; (2.). The 
manner ; and, (3.) The vieasiire of his going out. 

'2. His unresting, or discontent; which appears, (1.) In his travel, "he 
walketh;" (2.) In his trial, "in dry places;" (3.) In his trouble, "seeking 
rest ;" (4.) In the event, " findeth none." 

' IL His regress, striving for a re-entry into that he lost ; considered — 

* In a few instances he uses it; the expression it own occurring occasion 
ally. Thi.s is in accordiince with the analogy of the language in the case of 
ii.sr"//, himself, .themselves. 



EDITOKIAL NOTE. UC 

* 1, Intentively ; wherein are regardable, (1.) His resolution, "I will;" 
(2.) His revolution, "return;" (3.) The description of his seat, "into my 
house ;" (4.) His affection to the same place, " whence I came out." 

'2. Invent'ivdij ; for he findcth in it, (1.) Clearness, it is "empty;" (2.) 
Cleanness, "swept;" (3.) Trimness, "garnished." 

' III. His ingress, which consists in his fortifying the hold ; manifested — 

'1. By his associates; for he increaseth his troops, who are described, 
(1.) By their nature, "spirits;" (2.) By their number, "seven;" (3.) By 
the measure of their malice, " more wicked." 

' 2. By his assault, to the repossessing of the place ; testified, (1.) By 
their invasion, "they enter;" (2.) By their inhabitation, "they dwell;" (3.) 
By their cohabitation, " they dwell there together." 

' IV. The conclusion and application shut up all. The conclusion : " The 
last state of that man is worse than the first." The application : " Even so 
shall it be also unto this wicked generation." You see I have ventured on 
a long journey, and have but a short time allowed me to go it. My obser- 
vations in my travel shall be the shorter, and, I hope, not the less sound. 
So the brevity shall make some amends for the number.' 

The production of a perfect text on these principles is a work re- 
quiring sound judgment, incessant care, and no small amount of 
labour, in which I trust that the readers of the series will not find 
me wanting. 

The works of almost all the divines of this period abound with 
allusions to, and quotations from, the writings of the Fathers. 
Where these quotations form the foundation of an argument, it is 
clearly necessary that they should be verified, and the reference given, 
as it may frequently be desired to consult the context in the original; 
but where, as is generally the case, they are simply statements of 
what one of the Fathers has said, introduced merely to give point 
to a sentence, to corroborate the author's view, or to express a dis- 
tinction or an antithesis more pointedly than it could be expressed in 
English, it could accomplish no practical good to spend days or weeks 
in searching the voluminous works of the Fathers and others, for 
passages which, even if found, would afford no additional information 
to the reader. The first class of quotations will, in all cases, be 
verified, and the references given, and as many of the second class as 
can readily be found. The series having been undertaken in the be- 
lief that it w'ould be eminently useful to ministers of the gospel who 
desire to search the rich stores of the Puritan theology for practical 
purposes, it is not supposed tliey would value it for any appearance of 
scholarship which an editor might seek to display, but for the profound 
learning whicli is so great a peculiarity of the Puritan Fathers. 
In the great majority of cases, the ordinary reader will be quite 
content with a general reference ; while the few Avho are curious in 
such matters would be sorry to have the work done for them, which 
they will take great pleasure in doing for themselves. In not a few 



X EDITORIAL NOTE. 

cases, the sentences marked as taken from the Fathers are not given 
in their words. This is, of com-se, the case with respect to those 
from the Greek Fathers, which are always quoted in Latin. The 
Scriptural references, which are very incon-ect in the original editions, 
may be depended upon in this. 

Besides furnishing a text approaching perfection as nearly as pos- 
sible, ray editorial duty includes the preparation of a full and accu- 
rate index to the works of each author. This I hope to be able to 
accomplish in a manner that will prove satisfactory. 

On the part of the Publisher I have to state, with reference to 
the volume now issued, that it was intended, as the subscribers to 
this series are aware, that a Memoir of Adams, by the Eev. Charles 
H. Spm-geon of London, should be prefixed to the first volume of 
his Practical Works. Unfortunately the state of Mr Spurgeon's 
health for some time past has incapacitated him from the discharge 
of any extra duty ; and though, both from his having undertaken the 
preparation of this Memoir, and from the great interest he has always 
taken in this series, he was most desirous to fulfil his engagement, 
he has found it impossible to do so. In these circumstances, the 
Memoir will be postponed till the appearance of the third volume, in 
April 1862 ; when it will be supplied by the Ptev. Joseph Angus, 
D.D., Principal of the Baptist College, Regent's Park, London. The 
present volume is in consequence somewhat thinner than the Pub- 
lisher intended, but this will be rectified in the course of the issue 
of the series. In the third and concluding volume of Adams it is 
the Editor's intention to insert a short dissertation on the literary 
acquirements of Adams, what he borrowed from previous and cotem- 
porary writers, and what cotemporary and succeeding writers bor- 
rowed from him. 

The absence of the Memoir referred to from this volume seems to 
make it necessary for the Editor to introduce Adams to the reader. 
This I shall do in a few sentences. He is a writer of the earlier 
Puritan period, and belongs to the class that were called doctrinal 
Puritans, while he is as far as possible from being a Puritan writer 
according to the ideas that are usually attached to that term. A 
high Tory in church and state, an uncompromising advocate of the 
divine right of kings and bishops, he is never weary of pouring 
forth invectives against Papists on the one hand, and those whom he 
regards as scliismatics and sectaries on the other. There is some- 
thing exceedingly amusing in the pertinacity with which he launches 
forth indignant abuse of all who dift'er from him. But there 
is not a particle of sourness in his abuse; while there is much of 



EDITORIAL NOTE. 



hearty, witty, sarcastic, trenchant bitterness. He was a ' good hater,' 
evidently because he was an ardent lover. 

Adams was not distinctively a doctrinal writer ; but sound evan- 
gelical doctrine, according to the school of Augustine and Calvin, 
forms the basis of his writings. Neither docs he enter deeply into 
Christian experience ; but perhaps no preacher ever excelled him in 
faithfully and vigorously, without fear or favour, or respect of persons, 
denouncing vice and immorality under all disguises. It is evident 
in every page of his writings that ' in his eyes a vile person was con- 
temned.' The reader will go to him in vain for expositions of Scrip- 
tural texts, or for insight into the deeper workings of the Christian 
heart ; but not in vain for a hearty appreciation of all that is good, 
and as hearty a denunciation of all that he considered to be evil. 

His extant writings are all to be given in this series, with the 
exception of his Commentary on the Second Epistle of Peter, which 
was reprinted not long ago. 

The style of Adams, though frequently disfigured by what I must 
be permitted to call wretched puns and conceits, is exceedingly lively 
and racy ; sometimes rising into pure eloquence, always clear, vigor- 
ous, spirited ; a style that, in these days, would be deemed more 
suitable to our light periodical literature, than to the conventional 
formalities of the pulpit. Every reader who can appreciate genuine 
English manliness, decided sentiments, and frankness in expressing 
them, will receive a rich treat in the perusal of the works of Thomas 
Adams. He has been styled the Shakspeare of the Puritans ; and a 
claim may be laid to the compliment, as the fertility of his imagina- 
tion, and his intimate acquaintance with human nature in its graver 
and lighter moods, are frequently evinced with a power which war- 
rants the comparison. 

It only remains to explain that Adams was in the exercise of his 
ministry while the Authorised Version of the Bible was in prepara- 
tion. He occasionally refers to it as ' the new translation ; ' but does 
not seem to have habitually made use of it. In some cases his 
argument depends upon readings of texts different from that in that 
Version. It will also be noticed that he quotes the Apocrypha with 
the same freedom with which he quotes the canonical books. 

It will be seen from the address * to the Candid and Ingenious 
Keader,' that the sermons collected by Adams, and published by him 
in one folio volume, had previously been published separately. In 
their original form most of them had dedications prefixed ; but, for 
reasons which do not appear, he deleted many of these. They will 
all be reprinted in connexion with his Memoir, as they are wortliy 
of preservation on many grounds. 



Xil EDITORIAL NOTE. 

The sermons in this series are arranged according to the order of 
the texts. This seems to be an advantageous arrangement upon the 
whole ; but it involves the inconvenience, that in a few instances 
references are made to previous sermons, which in this edition occupy 
a subsequent place. T. S. 



SPECIMEN OF DIVISIOIT. 
(See p. viii.) 

* The materiall circumstances concerning both FoH and Captaine, hold 
and holder, place and person, may be generally reduced to these three. 



Egresse; forsa- 
king the Hold; 
wherein wee 
have his 



Ynroosting : wher- 
in obserue the 



( Person 
< Manner 
I Measure 



•i 



going out. 



rnresting; ov 6is-(^'^^''Jl- 

\ Trouble. 
{ Euent. 



content ; which ap- 
peares in his 



He Walkes. 
In dry places. 
SeeTcing rest. 
Findeth none. 



Regresse ; stri- 
uing for a re- 
entry into that 
'he lost; consi- 
der'd 



Intentiuely ; wher- 
in are regardable 



Resolution. I will. 

Reuolution. Returne. 

^.^ , Description of his seat. House. 
his j Affection, to the same place. My 
I house, whence I came out. 



T ^ . , -t^ ( Glearenesse. 
Inuentiuely. lor I ^, 
1- £ J xif • -i. s Cleanenesse. 
.hee findeth m It ] ^^,-,^,,,,,,. 



It is empty. 

Swept. 

Garnished. 



Ingresse; which 
consists in his 
fortifying the < 
Hold; manife- 
sted by his 



^Associates; for he f Nature. Spirits. 

cncreaseth his J Number. Seauen. 

trooiDes, who are j Measure of Malice. More 



described by their (^ tvicked. 

Assault ; to the re- 1 Inuasion. They enter. 

possessing of the) Inhabitation. Dwell. 

place; testifycd by] Cohabitation. They dwell 
their ( there together. 



' The Conclusion &. Application shut vp all. 1. The Conclusion: The last 
state of that man is ivorse then the first. 2. The Application: Euen so sliall 
it be also vnto this wicked generation. You see, I haue ventured on a long 
iourney ; and haue but a short time allowed me to goe it. My obseruations 
in my trauell shall be the shorter, and, I hope, not the lesse sound. So the 
breuity shall make some amends for the number.* 



EIGHT HONOURABLE AND TRULY NOBLE 

WILLIAM, EARL OF PEMBROKE, &c.; 

LORD HIGH STEWARD OF HIS MAJESTY'S HOUSEHOLD ; 

OF HIS majesty's most HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL; 

CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD ; 

AND KNIGHT OP THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTEB. 



My Lord, 

Tour Iionourable name hath stood long, like a happy star, in 
the orb of divine volumes ; a sanctuary of protection to the labours and 
persons of students ; and if I have presumed to flee thither also for refuge, 
I am taught the way by more worthy precedents. It cannot but be for your 
honour that your patronage is so generally sought for, not only by private 
ministers, but even by -whole universities. In the vouchsafing whereof, 
you have daily as many prayers as the earth hath saints. I am bold also 
to present my poor offering, as one loath to be hindmost in that acknowledg- 
ment which is so nobly deserved, and so joyfully rendered, of all tongues. 
Divers of these sermons did presume on the help^of your noble wing, 
when they first adventured to fly abroad. In their retrief, or second flight, 
being now sprung up again in greater number, they humbly beg the same 
favour. They all speak the same language, and desire so to be understood. 
Yet for fear of misinterpretation, I beseech your Lordship to give them aU 
your pass ; and, lest they should grow poor with contempt, your legacy of 
approbation. So I doubt not but that for your noble name's sake, (not their 



Xlv DEDICATION TO THE EAEL OF PEMBROKE. 

own merit,) wheresoever they light, they shall find respective* entertainment, 
and do yet some more good to the church of God. Which success, together 
with your Honour's true happiness, both of this and a better life, is still 
prayed for, by 

Your Lordship's humbly devoted. 

And ready to be commanded, 

THO. ADAMS. 
• That is, respectful — Ed. 



EIGHT HONOUEABLE 

HENRY, EAEL OF MANCHESTER, 

VISCOUNT MANDEVILLE, BARON OF KIMBALTON; 

LORD privy-seal; 

AND OF HIS majesty's MOST HONOUEABLE PRIVY COUNCIL. 



By your Lordship's favour, one moiety of these my unworthy meditations 
had the honour of their first patronage ; and, under the seal of your gracious 
allowance, were conveyed to the public light. At your command many of 
them were preached, and, not without your acceptation, published. They 
were unthankful servants, if they should not know their old master, whose 
livery they have so long worn, and in whom they have ever found so fair 
indulgence. But howsoever soon charitable men might acquit them, there 
could be no discharging of their author from the imputation of ingratitude, 
if I should not send them to your Lordship, for the same blessing at their 
second which they had at their first publication. There is no merchant that 
hath found a fortunate success under the steering of a pilot, such as myself 
had under your honourable protection, in one adventure, but he will implore 
the same favour in his next voyage. At the preaching of these thoughts I 
was bound to your Lordship for your favourable ear ; in the publishing of 
them, to your generous eye ; and now a third obligation you may bring upon 
me, by your Lordship's kind re-acceptance. They were once yours ; I be- 
seecb you give them leave to be so still, and account me not altogether your 
Lordship's unprofitable servant, who have returned you your own with increase. 
Being once so willingly parted from me, they were no longer mine, but your 
Lordship's ; and if I did present at first, I do but restore them now. That 



„i DEDICATION TO THE EAEL OF MANCHESTEE. 

„>i.ht be an act of love and observance; tlik ia an act of gratitude and 
r„st ce. That your honours may be stUl multiplied ,v>th our most gracious 
i^g on eartb, and with the King of kings in heaven, is faithfully prayed for, 
by him that is unworthy to be 

Your Lordship's humble servant, 

THO. ADAMS. 



MY DEAELY BELOVED CHARGE, 

THE PAEISHIONEES OF SAINT BENNET'S, 

NEAR TO Paul's wharf, London : 

INCKEASE OF GRACE, PEACE, AND COMFORT IN OUR 
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 



I OWE you a treble debt — of love, of service, of thankfulness. The former, 
the more I pay, the more still I owe. The second I will be ready to 
pay to the uttermost of my power, though short both of your deserts and 
my own desires. Of the last, I will strive to give full payment ; and in 
that, if it be possible, to come out of your debts. Of all, I have in this 
volume given you the earnest ; as, therefore, you use to do vnth bad debtors, 
take this till more comes. You see I have venturously trafficked with my 
poor talent in public, whilst I behold richer graces kept close at home, and 
buried in silence ; liking it better to husband a little to the common good, 
than to hoard up much wealth in a sullen niggardice= I censure none. If 
all were writers, who should be readers ? If none, idle pamphlets would 
take up the general eye, be read and applauded, only through want of 
better objects. If the grain be good, it doth better in the market than 
in the garner. All I can say for myself is, I desire to do good ; whereof 
if I should fail, yet even that I did desire it and endeavour it shall 
content my conscience. I am not affrighted with that common objec- 
tion of a dead letter. I know that God can effectuate his own ends, and 
never required men to appoint him the means. If it were profitable being 
spoken, sure it cannot be unnecessary being written. I- very well know the 

b 



XVIU DEDICATION TO THE PARISHIONErvS OF ST BEN NET S. 

burden of preaching in this city, "We may say of it in another sense, what 
Christ said of Jerusalem, * Oh thou that killest the prophets ! ' Many a 
minister comes to a parish with his veins full of blood, his bones of marrow ; 
but how soon doth he exhaust his spirits, waste his vigour ! And albeit 
there are many good souls, for whose sake he is content to make himself a 
sacrifice ; yet there are some so unmerciful, that after all his labour, would 
send him a beggar to his grave. I tell you but the fault of some. To you 
I am thankful. In testimony whereof I have set to my hand, and sent it 
you as a token of the gratitude of my heart. Eeceive it from him that is 
unfeignedly desirous of your salvation ; and if he knew by what other means 
soever he might bring you to everlasting peace, would study it, practise it, 
continue it, whilst his organ of speech hatt breath enough to move it. The 
God of peace grant you that peace of God which passeth all understand- 
ing, and afford you many comforts in this life to the end, and in the next 
life his glory without end ! Amen. 

Your loving and faithful Pastor, 

THO. ADAMS. 



TO THE CANDID AND INGENIOUS* READER. 



These Meditations, which before were scattered abroad in parcels, are now 
presented to thee in one entire volume. I cannot but take notice that much 
injury hath been done to the buyers of such great books by new additions, 
so that by the swelling of the later impressions the former are esteemed un- 
perfect. Be satisfied and assured, that to this volume nothing shall ever be 
added. If the Lord enable me to bring forth any other work of better use 
to his church, it shall be published by itself, and never prejudice this. I 
cannot look to escape censures, no more than St Paul did perils ; and amongst 
the rest, especially by false brethren, 2 Cor. xl 26. It is prodigious when 
such a spirit of pride and bitterness shall possess the heart of any ministers, 
that they shall think nothing well done but what they do themselves. Let 
me humbly borrow the application of our Saviour's words to them : ' If I 
have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil ; if well, why do you smite me 
with your virulent tongues]' To the honest-hearted readers I submit all : 
In omnibus meis scriptis, non modo pium ledorem, sed et liberum corredorem, 
■lesidero.f But to such \mcharitable censurers, qui vel non intelligendo repre- 
Undunt, vel reprehendendo non intelli()unt,X — that cannot or will not under- 
cLand, — I wish either a more sound judgment, or a more sober affection : 
that of lectores, they would not become lictores ; and being but readers, no 
usurp the office of judges ; or, worse, of executioners. But, ' as he that com- 
mendeth himself is not approved, but whom the Lord commendeth,' 2 Cor. 
X. 18; so if the Lord approve, I pass not for man's censure. Cupio, si fieri 
potest, propitiis auribus, quid sentiam dicere: sin minus, dicam et iratis.^ I 
hear of some idle drones humming out their dry derisions, that we (for- 
sooth) afiect to be men in print, as if that were the only end of these publi- 
cations ; but let the communication of goodness stop their mouths. Speech 
* That ib, ingenuous.— Ed. t Aug. in Prooem. lib. iiL do Trin- 

f Idem, Contra Faustum, lib. xiii., cap. 4. § Sea, Ep. 59. 



^^ TO THE CANDID AND INGENIOUS READER, 

is only for presence, writings have their use in absence : quo, liceat lihris, 
non licet ire mihi, — our books may come to be seen where ourselves shall 
never be heard. These may preach when the author cannot, and (which is 
more) when he is not. The glory be only to God, the comfort to your 
souls and mine : with which prayer, I leave you to Him that never leaveth 

THO. ADAMS. 



POLITIC mNTING. 



Esau VMS a cunning hunter, and a mem of ilie field ; and Jacoh ivas a plain 
man, dwelling in tents. — Gen. XXV. 27. 

Whex God hatli a long while deferred his actual blessings to the importunate 
suppliants, and extended their desires, at last he doubles on them the ex- 
pected mercy. So he rccompenseth the dilation -with the dilatation and 
enlarguig of his favours. Eebekah had been long barren, and now the Lord 
opens her womb, and sets her a-teeming ; she conceives two at once. 

It is observable that many holy women, ordained to be mothers of men 
specially famous and worthy, were yet long barren. »Sarah, the wife of 
Abraham, that bore Isaac ; llebekah, the wife of Isaac, that bore Jacob ; 
Rachel, the wife of Jacob, that bore Joseph ; Hannah, the mother of Samuel ; 
Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, Hereof may be given some 
reasons : — 

1. One Chrysostom gives, Ut ex mirahili partu sterilium, prasirueretur 
fides 2)artui virginis, — That by the mkaculous child-bearing of barren women 
a way might be made to beUeve the birth of Christ by a vii'gin. 

2. To shew that Israel was multiplied, not by natural succession, but by 
grace. So Theodoret. 

3. To exercise the faith, hope, and patience of such as, notwithstanding a 
promise, had their issue delayed. 

But now Isaac prays, God hears, Bebekah conceives. She conceives a 
■double burden, a pair of sons struggling in her womb. Her body is no less 
disquieted with this plenty, than her mind was before with the lack of chil- 
dren. Esau and Jacob are bom : brethren they are, not more near in birth 
than different in disposition ; for * Esau was a cumiing hunter, a man of the 
field ; but Jacob was a plain man, dwelling in tents.' 

These two are the subject of my discourse; whereui I regard their nomina, 
omina, — names and proceedings. Their names, Esau and Jacob, note their 
conditions for opposite : the one ' a cunning hunter,' the other ' a plain man.' 
Of both whom I will be bold to si)eak literally and lil)erally : literally, of 
their individual persons ; liberally, as they were figaircs and significations of 
future things. 

For herein is not only regardablc a mere histor}', but a mystery also. 
And as St Paul applied the true story of Isaac, the son of the free, and Lsh- 
jnael, the son of the bond-woman, that by these things was another thing 

VOL. I. A 



2 POLITIC HU^-TING. [SeEAION I. 

meant, Gal, iv. 24 ; so I may conclude of these two brotliers iu tlie same 
manner : ver. 29, 'As then he that was born after the flesh persecuted him 
that was born after the Spirit, even so is it now,* So it is now, and so it 
shall be to the end of the world. 

I must speak first of the first-bom, Esau, It is probable he was called 
Esau in regard of his manner of birth ; ver. 25, he that ' came out fii'st was 
red, all over like a haiiy garment ; and they called his name Esau.' 

Some derive it from the Hebrew word Quasah, which signifieth, to make ; 
and taken passively it implies a perfect man, for he came forth red and 
haiiy, — red, to betoken his bloody disposition ; hairy, to shew his savage and 
wild nature. Other children are born with hair only on the head, eyelids, 
and brows ; but he was hairy all over, promising extraordinary cruelty. 

He had three names : — 1. Esau, because he was complete; 2. Edom, be- 
cause he was red of complexion, or because he coveted the red pottage ; 3, 
Seir, that is, hairy. 

You hear his name ; listen to his nature. God's Spirit gives him this 
character : ' He was a cunning hunter,' &c. A name doth not constitute a 
nature ; yet in Holy Writ very often the nature did fulfil the name, and an- 
swer it in a future congruence. 

The character hath two branches, noting his dition and his condition. 

His condition or disposition was huntmg ; his dition, portion, or seigniory 
was the field : he was a field-man. 

The first mark of his character is, ' a cunning hunter,' wherein we have ex- 
pressed his power and his polici/, his strength and his sleight, his brawn and 
his brain ; his might, he was a hunter ; his wit, he was a cunning hunter. 

His Strength : A Huntek. — Hunting in itself is a delight lawful and 
laudable, and may well be argued for from the disposition that God hath put 
into creatures. He hath naturally inclined one kind of beasts to pursue 
another for man's profit and pleasure. He hath given the dog a secret in- 
stinct to follow the hare, the hart, the fox, the boar, as if he would direct a 
man by the finger of nature to exercise those qualities which his divine 
wisdom created in them. 

There is no creature but may teach a good soul one step towards his Creator. 
The world is a glass, wherein we may contemplate the eternal power and 
majesty of God, ' For the invisible things of him from the creation of the 
world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even 
his eternal power and Godhead,' Rom. i. 20. It is that great book of so 
large a character that a man may run and read it ; yea, even the simplest 
man, that cannot read, may yet spell out of this book that there is a God. 
Every shepherd hath this calendar, every ploughman tliis ABC. What 
that French poet divinely sung is thus as sweetly Englished — 

' Tho world 's a school, where, in a general story, 
God always reads dumb lectures of his glory.' 

Eut to our purpose. This practice of hunting hath in it — 1. Eecreation; 
2. Benefit, 

1. DelifjJd. — Though man, by his rebellion against his Creator, forfeited the 
charter which he had in the creatures, and hereon Adam's r)unishmeut was, 
that he should work for that sudore vuUus which erst sprung up naturally 
heneficio Creatoris; yet this lapse was recovered in Christ to believers, and a 
new patent was sealed them in his blood, that they may use them not only 
ad necessitatem vitce, but also in dtlectationem animi. So God gives man 
not only bread and wine to strengthen his heart, but even oil to refresh his 



Gen. XXV. 27.] politic hunting. 3 

countenance. ' Let thy garments be always white, and let thy head hxck no 
ointment,' Eccles. ix. 8. When Solomon had found men pulling on them- 
selves unnecessaiy vexations in this world, and yet not buying peace in 
heaven with their trouble on earth, he concludes, ' Then I commended 
mirth, because a man hath no better thing under the sun, than to eat, and 
to drink, and to be merry : for that shall abide with him of his labour the 
days of his life, that God giveth him under the sun,' Eccles. viii. 15. 

But there is a liberty, the bounds whereof because men's affections cannot 
keep, it is better their understandings knew not ; for, melius est nescire cen- 
trum, quam non tenere circulum. I may say of too many, as Seneca, Nihil 
felicitati eorum deed, nisi moderatio ejus, — They have happiness enough, if 
they could moderate it. Nothing is magis propritim materice, say philoso- 
phers, more proper to matter, than to flow; nisi afonna sistitur, unless the 
form restrain and stay it. Nothing is more peculiar to man than to run 
out, and to err exorbitantly, if grace direct not. 

Men deal with recreation as some travellers do with another's grounds , 
they beg passage through them in winter for avoidance of the miiy ways, and 
so long use it on sufierance that at last they plead prescription, and hold it 
by custom. God allows delights to succour our infirmity, and we saucily 
turn them to habitual practices. Therefore Solomon condemns it in some, 
as he commends it in others. ' Rejoice in thy youth,' and follow thy vani- 
ties ; ' but know, that for all this God wUl bring thee into judgment,' Eccles. 
XL 9. And our Saviour denounceth a Vce ridentihus; for they that will laugh 
when they should weep, shall mourn when they might have rejoiced. 

We often read of Christ weeping, never laughing: taking his creatures for 
sustentation, not for recreation. Indeed he afforded us this benefit; and 
what we had lost, as it were, ex jwstliminio, recovered to us. But it were 
strange that hceres succedens in defuncti locum shoidd do more than the 
testator ever did himself, or allowed by his grant ; or that servants and sin- 
ners should challenge that which was not permitted to their ]\Iaster and 
Saviour. But thus we pervert our liberty, as the Pharisees did the law, in 
sensum reprobum. These hmit, but keep not within God's pale, the circum- 
ferent limits wherein he hath mounded and bounded our liberty. 

2. Benefit. — Recreations have also their profitable use, if rightly under- 
taken. 

(1.) The health is preserved by a moderate exercise. Sedentariam agentes 
vitcim, they that live a sedentary life, so find it. 

(2.) The body is prepared and fitted by these sportive to more serious 
labours, when the hand of war shall set them to it. 

(.3.) The mind, wearied with graver employments, hath thus some cool 
respiration given it, and is sent back to the service of God with a revived 
alacrity. 

His Policy : A Cunning Huntek. — But we have hunted too long with 
Esau's strength, let us learn his sleight : ' a cunning hunter.' Hunting re- 
quires tanturii artis, quaiitum martis. Plain force is not enough, there must 
be an accession of fraud. There is that common sense in the creatures to 
avoid their pursuers. Fishes -will not be taken with an empty hook ; nor 
birds with a bare pipe, though it go sweetly ; nor bea.sts with Briareus's 
strength only, though he had a hundred hands. Here astus polleniior armis. 
Fishes must have a bait, birds a net, and he that takes beasts must be a 
cunning hunter. ' Can a bird fall into a snare upon the earth, where no gin 
is for liim V Amos iii. 5. Nay, often both vises and devices, toils and toil- 
ings, strength and stratagems, are aU too little. 



4 POLITIC HUXTIXG. [SeKMON I, 

A Cunning Hunter. — It appears tliat Esau's delight was not to surprise 
tame beasts that did him service, but Tvild ; for against the former there 
needed no such cunning. How easily is the ox brought to the yoke, the 
horse to the bit, the lamb to the slaughter ! His intention and contention 
was against wild and noxious creatures. 

This observation teacheth us to do no violence to the beasts that serve us. 
Solomon stamps this mark on the good man's forehead, that he is merciful 
to his beast ; and the law of God commanded that tlie mouth of the ox 
should not be muzzled that treadeth out the corn. God opened the mouth 
of an ass to reprove the folly of Balaam, who struck her undeservedly for 
not going forward, Avhen God's angel stood ad oppositum. 

Those sports are then intolerable wherein we vex those creatures that 
spend their strengths for our benefit. God therefore often justly suffers 
them to know their own power, and to revenge themselves on our ingrati- 
tude. The Roman soothsayers divined that when bulls, dogs, and asses 
(beasts created for iise and obedience) grew mad on a sudden, helium servile 
imminebat, it boded some servile war and insurrection. But we may truly 
gather, that when God suffers these serviceable and domestical creatures to 
make mutiny and rebellion against us, that God is angiy with our sms ; 
and that they no otherwise shake off our service than we have shaken off 
the service of God. So long as Ave keep our covenant with the Lord, he 
makes a league for us with the beasts of the field ; but when we fall from 
our allegiance, they fall from theirs, and, without wonder, quit our rebellion 
against God with their rebellion against us. We see what we get by run- 
ning from our Master ; we lose our servants. 

But if they that fly from God by contempt shall thus speed, what shall 
become of them that fly upon God by contumacy 1 If wiclced Nabal could 
blame the servants qui fugiunt dominos, that run from their masters; how 
would he condemn them qui persequuntur, that run upon them -ndth violence? 
But if we band ourselves against God, he hath liis hosts to fight against us. 
Fowls in the air, fishes in the sea, beasts on the earth, stones in the street, 
will take his part against us. So long doth the hen cluck her chickens as 
she takes them to be hers ; but if they fly from the defence of her wings, 
she leaves them to the prey of the kite. So long as we obey God, heaven 
and earth shall obey us, and every creature shall do us service ; but if we 
turn outlaws to him, we are no longer in the circle of his gracious custody 
and protection. 

A Cunning Hunter. — -As cunning as he was to take beasts, he had little 
cunning to save himself How foolish was he to part with his birthright for 
a mess of lentil pottage ! And since there is a necessary discussion of his 
folly, as well as of his cunning, I will take here just occasion to demonstrate 
it ; and that in five circumstances : — 

1. He had a ravenous and intemperate desire. This appears by three 
phrases he used: — (1.) 'Feed me, I pray thee,' ver. 30 j satisfy, saturate, 
satiate me ; or, let me swallow at once, as some read it. The words of an 
appetite insufferable of delay. (2.) To shew his eagerness, he doubles the 
word for haste: 'with that red, with that red pottage;' red was his colour, 
red was his desire. He coveted red pottage ; he dwelt in a red soil, callecl 
thereon Idumea; and in the text, 'tliereforc was his name called Edom.' 
(3.) He says, ' I am faint,' and, ver. 32, * at the point to die,' if I have it not. 
Like some longing souls that have so weak a hand over their appetites, that 
they must die if their humour be not fulfilled. 

We may here infer two observations ; — 



Gen. XXV. 27.] politic huntixg. 5 

(1.) Tliat intemperance is not only a tiltliy, but a fonlisli sin. It is im- 
possible that a ravenous throat should lie near a sober l)rain. There may 
be m such a man undcrstaudinL; and reason ; but he neither hears that nor 
follows tliis. A city may have good laws, though none of them be kept. 
But as hi sleepers and madmen there is habitus rationis, non usus et actus, — 
such men have reason, but want the active use. Venter pnccepta non audit, 
— the belly hath no ears. Though you would write such men's epitaphs 
while they are li\ang, yet you cannot ; for moHem suam antecesserunt, they 
have ante-acted their death, and buried themselves alive ; as the French 
proverb says, They have digged their grave with their teeth. The philo- 
sopher passing through Vacia the epicures grounds, said, Hic situs est 
Vacia : not. Here he lives, but, Here he lies ; as it were dead and sepulchred. 
The parsimony of ancient times hath been admirable. The Arcadians lived 
on acorns ; the Argives on apples ; the Athenians on figs ; the Tyruithians 
on pears ; the Indians on canes ; the Carmanes on i)alms ; the Sauromatians 
on millet ; the Persians, nasturtio, with cresses ; and Jacob here made dciinty 
of lentil. s. 

(2.) That a man may epicurise on coarse fare ; for lentil pottage was no 
extraordinary fine diet. But as a man may be a Crassus in his purse, yet 
no Cassius in his pots; so, on the contrary, another may be, as it is said 
of Job, poor to a proverb, yet be withal as voluptuous as Esau. Men have 
taletn dentem, qualem mentem, — such an appetite as they have affection. 
And Esau may be as great a glutton in his pottage as those greedy dogs, 
Isa. Ivi, 12, that fill themselves with strong wines; or those fat bulls, 
Amos vi. 4, that eat the lambs and calves out of the stall. Thus the poor 
may sin as much in their throat as the rich, and be epicures tarn late, though 
not tam laute, — in as immoderate, though not so dainty fivre. Indeed, labour 
in many bodies requires a more plentifiJ repast than in others ; and the 
sedentary gentleman needs not so much meat as his drudging hind. But 
in both this rule should be observed, Quantum natuvce sujiciaf, non quan- 
tum gulce jjlaceat, — Not what will please the throat, but what will content 
nature ; to eat what a man shoidd, not what he would. The poor man 
that loves delicate cheer shall not be wealthy ; and the rich man that loves 
it .shall not be healthy. As cunning as Esau was, here is one instance of 
his folly, an intemperate appetite. 

2. His folly may be argued from his base estimation of the birthright; 
that he woidd so lightly part from it, and on so easy conditions as pottage. 
It seems he did measure it only by the i:»leasures and commodities of this 
life which were afforded him by it: ver. 32, ' I am ready to die : and what 
profit shall this birthright do to mel' Which words import a limitation of it 
to this present world, as if it could do him no good afterwards ; where- 
upon the Hebrews gather that he denied the resurrection. For this cause 
the Apostle brands him with the mark of profaneness, Heb. xii., that he 
changed a spiritual blessing for a temporal pleasure. 

And what, O ye Esauites, worldling.s, are momentary delights compared 
to eternal ! What is a mess of gruel to the supper of glory ! The belly is 
pleased, the soid is lost. Never was any meat, except the forbidden fruit, 
so dearly bought as this broth of Jacob. A curse followed both their feed- 
ings. There is no temporal thing without trouble, though it lie far more 
worthy than the lentil [)ottagc. Hath a man good tilings I Ho fears to 
forego them ; and when he must, could either wish tliey had not been .so 
good, or a longer possession of them. Hath he evil \ They bring grief, and 
he either wisheth them good, or to be rid of them. So that good things 



6 POLITIC HUNTIXG. [SeKMON I. 

trouble us Tvitli fear, evil witli sorrow ; those in the future, these in the 
present ; those because they shall end, these because they do not end. 
Nothing, then, can make a man truly happy but eternity. Pleasures may 
last a while in this world ; but they will grow old with us, if they do not 
die before us. And the staft" of age is no pole of eternity. He, then, hath 
too much of the sensual and profane blood of Esau in him, Heb. sii. 16, 
that wUl sell everlasting birthrights and comforts for transient pleasures. 

3. Another argument of his folly Avas, ingratitude to God, who had in 
mei'cy vouchsafed him, though but by a few minutes, the privilege of primo- 
geniture ; wherewith divines hold that the priesthood was also ctuiveyed. 
The father of the famUy exercised it during his life, and after his decease the 
first-born succeeded m that with the inheritance. And could Esau be un- 
grateful to a God so gracious? Or could he possibly have aspired to a 
higher dignity ? Wretched unthankfulness, how ju.stly art thou branded for 
a prodigy in nature ! There are too many that, in a sullen neglect, overlook 
all God's favours for the want of one that their affections long after. jVo71 
tarn ar/unt gratias de tribimatu, quam queruntur, quod non sunt evecti in con- 
sulatum, — It is nothing with them to be of the court, except they be also of 
the council. 

4. His obstinacy taxeth his folly, that, after cold blood, leisure to think 
of the treasure he sold, and digestion of his pottage, he repented not of his 
rashness ; but, ver. 34, ' He did eat, and drink, and rose up, and went his 
way' — fiJled his belly, rose up to his former customs, and went his way 
without a Quid feci ? Therefore it is added, ' he deq^ised his birthi'ight,' 
He followed his pleasures without any interception of sorrow or interniption 
of conscience. His whole life was a circle of sinful customs ; and not his 
birthright's loss can put him out of them. A circular thing implies a per- 
petuity of motion, according to mathematicians. It begins from all parts 
alike, et in seipso desinit, ends absolutely in itself, without any point or scope 
objectual to move it. Earth was Esau's home; he looks after no other 
felicity : therefore goes his way with less thought of a heavenly birthright 
than if he had missed the deer he hunted. It is wicked to sell heavenly 
things at a great rate of worldly ; but it is most wretched to vilipend them. 

5. Lastly, his perfidious nature appeareth, that though he had made an 
absolute conveyance of his birthright to Jacob, and sealed the deed with 
an oath, yet he seemed to make but a jest of it, and purposed in his heart 
not to perform it. Therefore, chap, xxvii. 41, 'He said in his heart. The 
days of mourning for my father are at hand ; then wUl I slay my brother 
Jacob.' He tarried but for the funeral of his father, and then resolved to 
send his brother after him ; a,s Cain did Abel, because he was more accepted. 
It is hard to judge whether he was a worse son or a brother. He hopes 
for his father's death, and purposeth his brother's ; and vows to shed blood 
instead of tears. 

Perhaps from his example those desperate wretches of England drew their 
instruction. They had sold their birthright, and the Ijlessing which Jesus 
Christ, like old Isaac dying, becjueathed in his will to all believers, and all 
the interest in the truth of the gospel, to the Pope for a few pottage, red 
pottage, dyed in their own blood, fm- seeking to colour it with the blood of 
God's anointed, and of his sanits. And now, in a malicious rancour, seeing 
the children of truth to enjoy as nnich outward peace as they were conscious 
of an inAAard vexation, they expected but diem luctns, the days of mourning, 
when God should translate our late queen, of eternally-blessed memory, 
from a kingdom on earth to a better in heaven ; and then hoped, like bus- 



Gen. XXV. 27.] politic hunting. 7 

tards in a fallow-field, to raise up their heavy fortunes vi turbinis, by a -whirl- 
wind of commotion. But our Pacator Orbis (wliich was the real attribute 
of Constantine) beguiled their envious hopes. And as Patcrculus said of 
the Roman empire, after Augustus's death, when there was such hope of 
enemies, fear of friends, expectation of trouble in aU, Tantafuit unius viri 
majesias, lit nee honis, neque contra malos opus foret armis, — Such was the 
majesty of one man, that his very presence took way all use of arms. Our 
royal Jacob precluded all stratagems, prevented all the plots of these malicious 
Esauites, and settled us both in the fruition of the gospel and peace with 
it. But in meantime God did punish their perfidious machinations, as he 
will do perjury and treason, wheresoever he finds them ; for he will naU upon 
the head of the perjurer his oath traitorously broken. 

In aU these circumstances it appeareth, that though Esau was subtle to 
take beasts, he had no cunning to hunt out his own salvation. From all 
which scattered stones, brought together, let me raise this building of in- 
struction. 

The wisest for the world are most commonly fools for celestial bles:-ings. 
Wicked men can sentire quae sunt carnis, not of the Spirit. The prophet 
Jeremiah compounds both these, and shews how wisdom and folly may 
concur in one man : chap. iv. 22, ' They are wise to do evil ; but to do good 
they have no knowledge.' Let them war, they have their stratagems ; let 
them plot in peace, they have their policies. For hunting, they have nets ; for 
fowling, gins ; for fishing, baits : not so much as even in husbandry, but 
the professors have their reaches ; they know which way the market goes, 
whicJi way it will go. Your tradesmen have their mysteries — mysteries 
indeed, for the mystery of iniquity is in them : they have a stock of good 
words to put oS a stock of bad wares ; in their particular qualities they are 
able to school Machiavel. 

But draw them from their centre, earth, and out of their circumference, 
worldly poHcies, and you have not more simple fools. They have no 
acquaintance with God's statutes, and therefore no marvel if they misjudge 
vices lor virtues; as Zebul told Gaal, Judges ix. 36, that he mistook 
umbras moniium pro capitihus homimim. A man may easily run his 
soul upon the rocks of rebellion, while he neither looks to the card of con- 
science nor regards the compass of faith. 

A Man of the Field. — We have taken the first branch of his character, 
the main proportion of his picture : ' he was a cunning hunter.' There is 
another colour added: 'he was a man of the field.' But because I take it 
for no other than an explanation of the former attribute, an exposition of 
the proposition, saving it hath a little larger extent, I do no more but 
name it. 

We do not think, because he is called a man of the field, that therefore 
he was a husbandman ; but, as tlie Scptuagdnt calls him, a field-man, in 
regard that he was continually conversant in the field. There was his sport, 
there was his heart. Therefore, ver. 28, did Isaac love Esau, ' because he 
did eat of his venison.' He loved his venison, not his conditions. Some 
would read it thus, ' because venison was in his mouth,' and so turn lus 
hunting into a metaphor : as if by insinuation he had wound himself into 
the favour of Isaac. But the other reading is better ; saving that, by the 
way, we may give a reprehension to sucli mouth-hunters. 

If you would know who they are, they are the tiattcrers. of whom we 
may say, as huntsmen of their dogs, they are wcU-mouthed ; or rather, 
ill-mouthed. For an ordinary dog's biting doth not rankle so sore as their 



8 POLITIC miNTING. [SeRMON I. 

licking. Of all dogs they are best likened to spaniels, but that they have a 
more venomous tongue. They wiU fawn, and fleer, and leap up, and kiss 
their master's hand: but aU tliis Avhile they do but hunt him; and if they 
can spring him once, you shall hear them quest uistantly, and either pre- 
sent him to the falcon, or worry and prey on him themselves, perhaps not 
so much for his flesh as for his feathers. For they love not dominos, but 
dominorum; not their master's good, but their master's goods. 

The golden ass, got into sumptuous trappings, thinks he hath as many 
friends as he hath beasts coming about him. One commends his snout for 
fairer than the lion's ; another his skin for richer than the leopard's ; an- 
other his foot for swifter than the hart's ; a foui-th his teeth for whiter and 
more precious than the elephant's ; a last, his breath for sweeter than the 
civet beast's. And it is wonder if some do not make him believe he hath 
horns, and those stronger than bulls', and more virtual than the unicorn's. 
All tliis while they do but hunt him for his trappings ; uncase him, and 
you shaJl have them baffle and kick him. This doth Solomon insinuate, 
Prov. xis. 4, ' Riches gather many friends : but the poor is separated from 
his neighbours.' He says not the rich man, but riches. It is the money, 
not the man, they hunt. 

The great one bristles up himself, and conceits himself higher by the 
head than all the rest, and is proud of many friends. Alas ! these dogs do 
but hunt the bird of paradise for his feathers. These wasps do but hover 
about the gallipot because there is honey in it. The proud fly, sitting 
upon the chariot-wheel, which, hurried with violence, hufted up the sand, 
gave out that it was she which made all that glorious dust. The ass, carry- 
ing the Egyptian goddess, swelled with an opinion that all those crouches, 
cringes, and obeisances were made to him." But it is the case, not the 
carcase, they gape for. So may the chased stag boast how many hounds 
he hath attending him. They attend indeed, as ravens a dying beast. 
Actcieon found the kind truth of their attendance. They run away as spiders 
from a decaying house; or as the cuckoo, they sing a scurvy note for a 
month in summej-, and are gone in June or July ; sure enough before the 
fall. ■ These hunters are gone ; let them go : for they have brought me a 
little from the strictness and directness of my intended speech. But as a 
physician coming to cure doth sometimes receive some of his patient's 
infection, so I have been led to hunt a little wide, to fiud out these cunning 
hunters. 

Be pleased to observe two general notes, and then I will come to the 
application :- — 

1. These two brethren were born together, were brought up together ; yet 
how great diff'erence was there in their composition of bodies, in their dis- 
position of minds, in their events of life, or, as they say, in their fortunes ! 

(1.) For bodies : one was rough and hairy, the other was smooth and 
plain. This is seldom seen in children begot and born of the same parents, 
but seldom or never in two born at one birth. And we may go so far with 
the physiognomer to say, that complexion, though not guides, yet incUnes 
the inward disposition. 

(2.) For disposition of mind, this text shews a wide and opposite dif- 
ference : ' Esau was a cunning hunter, a man of the field ; but Jacob a 
l)lain man, dwelling in tents.' And (ircgory observes from this example, 
the remoteness or contrariety of worldlings' and holy men's delights. ]\lea 
of the world hunt after the pleasures of the world, as Esau. Men of grace 
give themselves to the contemplation and study of virtue, as Jacob. 



Gen. XXV. 27.] poutic huxting, 9 

(3.) For events or success in this world, there was such distance as greater 
could not be imagined ; for it is here said, ' tlie elder shall serve the younger.' 
The privilege of prunogeniture belonged to Esau ; yet both that and the 
blessing went to Jacob. If among us the eldest son sell all his lands to a 
younger brother, many are ready to bless his stars, and to say, He is born 
to better fortunes. Divers thhigs are here figured : — 

[1.] Literally, here is intended that the Idumeans, the seed of Esau, 
should be subject to the Israelites, the posterity of Jacob. So we read, 2 
Sam. viii. 14, that they were subdued to Israel by David, 'All they of 
Edom became David's servants / and so continued to the reign of Jotliam. 
This gave the Jews not only a superiority in temporal dominion, but in 
spiritual blessings, the grace and mercy of God ; for they were the visible 
church, and Edom was cut off. 

[2.] [Mystically, this signifies the carnal Jews subdued to the Christians, 
though the other were the elder people.* Therefore it is observable, that 
in the genealogy of Christ, Matt, i., many of the first-born were left out. 
Luke iii. 38, Seth is put in for the son of Adam ; yet his eldest son was 
Cain. So, Matt. i. 2, 'Abraham begat Isaac,' yet his eldest son was Ishmael; 
' Isaac begat Jacob,' yet here his first-born was Esau ; ' Jacob begat Judah,* 
yet his first-bom was Reuben. And Daiid begat Solomon in Matthew's 
genealogy, Nathan in Luke's; yet both younger brethren by Bathsheba. 
Exod. iv. 22, Israel is called God's first-born, and his chosen people, his 
appropriation. Populus Juckeus aduinhraUis fait in his progenitis, — the 
Jews were figured in these first-born ; and we the Gentiles, that were the 
younger brothers, have got away the birthright. Eom. xi. 19, they are cast 
off, we grafted in ; so that now the elder serveth the younger. 

"Which teachcth us to look well to our charter in Christ ; for it is not 
enough to be born of believing parents, but we also must be believers. 
Job may sacrifice for, not expiate, his sons' sins. It is sinful for men on 
earth to deprive the first-born ; but God may, and doth it. Gen. xlviii. 
14, ' Israel stretched out his right hand, and laid it upon Ephraim's head, 
who was the younger, and his left hand on Manasseh's head, guiding his 
hands wittingly: though Manasseli was the first-born.' And, ver. 18, 
' When Joseph said to him, Not so, my father, Jacob answered, I know it, 
my son, I know it.' Thus generation may be cut off, regeneration never. 
A man may be lost though born in the faith, unless he be born again to. 
the faith. Neither is it enough for Ishmael to plead himself the son of 
Abraham, unless he can also plead himself the son of God, and an heir of 
Abraham's faith. 

2. Commend me here to all genethliacs, casters of nativities, star-wor- 
shippers, by this token, that they are all impostors, and here proved fools. 
Here be twins conceived together, born together ; yet of as different natures 
and quolities as if a vast local distance had sundered their births, or as if 
the origdnary blood of enemies had run in their several veins. It is St 
Augustine's preclusion of all star-predictions out of this place. And since 
I am fallen upon these figure-casters, I will be bold to cast the destmy of 
their profession, and honestly lay open their juggling in six arguments : — 

(1.) The falsehood of their ephonieridcs. The pr< ignosticators, as if they 
were midwives to the celestial bodies, plead a deep insight into their secrets; 
or as if, like physicians, they had cast the urine of the clouds, and knew 
where the fit held them, that it could neither rain nor hail till some star 
had first made them acquainted with it. Demonstration hath proved these 
* Aug. de Civit. Dei, lib. xvi., c. 25. 



10 POLITIC HUNTING. [SeRMON I. 

SO false and ridiculous that they may rather commovere nauseam quam 
hUem, and riswn more than both. 

Perhajis when some appoint rain on such a day, some frost, others snow, 
a fourth wmd, a last cahn and ftiir weather, some of these may hit, some of 
these must hit. But lightly he that against his knowledge told true to-day, 
lies to-morrow ; and he that lied yesterday may happen right next day ; as 
a blind archer may kill a crow. 

For this cause, I think, some were called erring or wandering stars ; not 
so much that thej'- were uncertain in their own seats and motions, as because 
they caused to eiT their clients and gaping inquisitors. And so they are 
called erring in the same phrase and sense as death is called pale; not that 
it is pale itself, but because it makes those pale it seizeth on ; and winter 
duty, not formaliter, but secundum effectum, because it maketh the earth 
dirty. So that rather their own speculations by the stars, than the stars, 
are erring : both decepto sensu cum judicio, et cornq^tis organis. 

Therefore some of the subtler have delivered their opinions in such 
spurious, enigmatical, dilogical terms, as the de\al gave his oracles; that 
since heaven will not follow their instructions, their constructions shall 
follow heaven. And because the weather hath not fallen out as they have 
before told, they will now tell as the weather falls out. So that reading 
their books you would think, as the beggars have their canting, they had 
got a new language out of the elements, which the poor earth never did or 
shall understand. And it is thought that canting is the better language, 
because it is not so ambitious as to meddle with the stars, whereof the 
prognosticator's head comes as short as his tongue doth of the beggar's elo- 
quence. 

(2.) The state of fortune-tellers and prophecy-usurpers; which is not only^ 
poor and beggarly, as if the envious earth refused to relieve those that could 
fetch their living out of the stars, but also ridiculous : — 

* Nil liabet infelix paupertas durius in se, 
Quam quod ridicules homines facit.' 

This is not all ; but they are utterly ignorant of their own destinies. 
Now, Qui sihi nescius, cui jorccscins ? — He that is a fool for himself, how 
shtiuld he be wise for others 1 Thrasius the soothsayer, in the nine years' 
drought of Egypt, came to Busiris the tyrant — 

' Monstratque piari 
Hospitis eff'uso sanguine posse Jovem '— 

and told him, that Jupiter's wrath might be appeased by sacrificing the 
blood of a stranger. The tyrant asked him what countr}^nan he was, of 
Egypt, or an alien 1 He told him, a stranger. 

* Eli Busiris; fics Jovis liostia primus, 
Inquit, et iEgypto tu dabis hospes aquam ; ' — 

' Thou, quoth the tyrant, art that lucky guest 
"WTiose blood shall wet our soil, and give us rest.* 

It is reported that Biron, that French marshal, came to an astrologer to 
know the future success of his plots ; which because he gave disastrous, 
the angry duke begun to his mischievous intendments in the fixte-tcllcr's 
blood. Can they read other men's fates in the stars, and not their o\m 1 
Therefore one wittily wrote on such a book, after throwing it into the fire — 

' Thy author foretells much : alas ! weak friend, 
That he could not prognosticate thy end.' 



GeX. XXV. 27.] POLITIC HUXTINCr. 11 

(3.) Tlie quick moving of the celestial bodies, and their remoteness from 
our eyes ; both our sense is too weak to pierce into those fires, and those 
fires are too quick in motion for our apprehension. Therefore saith St 
Augustine, Si tarn cdeiiter alter post alterum nascitur, ut eadem pars Jioro- 
scopi maneat, paria cunda qucero, quce in nullis possunt geminis inveniri; — 
If one of the twins be so immediately born after the other that the same pail 
of the horoscope abide, 1 require likeness and equality in them botli, wliich 
can in no twins be f(iund. We see here two brethren born together, it is 
most likely, under the reign of one planet or constellation ; yet more difi'erent 
in natures than the planets themselves. 

To this they answer, that even this cause, the swift motion of the planets, 
wrought this diversity, because they change their aspects and conjunctions 
every moment. This would one Nigidius demonstrate, who upon a wheel 
turning with all possible swiftness, let drop at once two aspersions of ink, so 
near together as possibly he could ; 3'et stante rota, &c., the wheel standing 
still, they were found very remote and distant. Whereby he would demon- 
strate, that in a small course of time, a great part of the celestial globe may 
be turned about. But this St AugiTstine soundly returns on them : that if the 
planetary courses and celestial motions be so swift, it cannot be discerned 
under what constellation any one is born. And Gregory wittily derides 
their folly, that if Esau and Jacob were not therefore born under one con- 
stellation, because they came forth one after another; by the same reason, 
neither can any one be bom under one constellation, because he is not born 
all at once, but one part after another. 

(4.) Vita brevis liominum, — man's short and brittle life. If our age were 
now as it was with the patriarchs, when the stag, the raven, and long-lived 
oak, compared with man's life, died very young, they might then observe 
and understand the motion and revolution of the stars, and behold their 
effects ; when if any star had long absented itself from their contemplation, 
they could stay two or three hundred years to see it again : but now, as an 
English nightingale sung — 

' 'V\\\o lives to age 
Fit to be made Methusalem his page V 

Of necessity this astrologer must live so long as to have observed the life 
of such a man born under such a planet, and after him another born in like 
manner. Nay, he must overtake the years of ]\Iethusalem in the successive 
contemi>lation of such experiments. But this life is not given, therefore not 
this knowledge. 

(5.) The infinite number of the stars takes from them all possibility of 
infallible predictions. They cannot give their general number, and can they 
give their singular natures? To attempt it is impnideiitia ccecissima; to 
afiirm it, impudmtia efrontissiina, — blind dotage, shameless imimdence. 

(G.) The various disposition, conditions, natures, and studies axetaneorinn, 
of such as are born together. So Gregory reasons of these twins : Cum 
eodem momento mater vtrumque fiiderit, cur non una utriusque vita qualitas 
(vel a^qualitas) fuit ? — When the mother brought them forth at one instant, 
how comes it to pass that they have not the same quality and equality in 
their lives ? Are not many born at the same time and under tJie same 
constellation, quorum processus et successus varios et scope contrarios videmus, 
— whose proceedings and events we behold so different. 

If we may give credit that Romulus and Remus were both bom of a 
vestal (defiled by a soldier) at one birth, both exposed together to a wild 
desert, both taken together and nourished of a she-wolf, both building and 



12 POLITIC HUXTING. [SeUMON I. 

challenging Borne ; yet Romulus slew his brother, and got the kingdom of 
that city, and after his own name called it Rome. Fraterno primi madu- 
erunt sanguine nmri. If Castor, Pollux, and Helena were got by Jupiter, 
and hatched by Leda out of one egg, how came they to so various fortunes? 
Ciw fratrem Pollux alterna morte redemit ? Cicero mentions it for the 
Chaldean folly, that they would have 07nnes eodem tem^^ore ortos, all that 
were born (wheresoever) together, eadem conditione nasci, — to be born to the 
same condition. 

But were all the infants slain at one time by Herod born under one con- 
stellation 1 Or all the old world drowned in the deluge under one star 1 Or 
all soldiers slain in one field under the same sign 1 The mathematicians 
were wont to affirm that all born under the sign Aquarius would be fishers. 
But in Gctulia there are no fishers : was never any there born under the 
sign Aquarius ? The Cretians, saith Paul, were always liars : what, were 
they all bom under Mercury ? The Athenians, greedy of novelties : had they 
all one predominant star ? The Belgics, warriors : were they therefore all 
born under the reign of Mars ? 

But I have spent too much breath about this folly of prognosticators ; 
of whom it may be said that not only ' the children of this world are wiser 
in their generation than the children of light,' Luke xvi. 8, but they would 
be wiser ipsa luce, than the light itself They would know more than saints 
and angels, and search out the uninvestigable things of the Lord. Nam si qm, 
quce eventura sunt, jircevideant, a;qui parent Jovi, — If they could foresee future 
things, they would brag themselves equal to God, But secret things belong 
to God ; revealed, to us. The other is both arrogant in man and derogant to 
God. And Gregory says well, ' If such a star be a man's destiny, then is 
man made for the stars, not the stars for man.' The devils know not future 
events, and will these boast it 1 Sus Minervam scilicet. 

They grew up together, and presently Esau was ' a cunning hunter,' Jacob 
' a plain man.' We see that even yovitli doth insinuate to an observer the 
inclination and future course of a man. The sprig shooting out of the tree 
bends that way it will ever grow. ' Teach a child a trade in his youth, 
and when he is old he will not forget it,' saith Solomon. Esau entered 
quickly into the black way, which leads to the black gates, that stand ever 
ready open for black souls. Fatet cdri janua Ditis. As if he should want 
rather time for his sport than sport for his time, he begins early, at the 
very threshold of his life and morning of his years. Neqidtice cursns cele- 
rior (luatn a^tatis, — his -nickedness got the start of his age. 

And did he ever stay his course 1 That foolish parents should be so indul- 
gent to their children's licentiousness ! nay, even ready to snib and check 
their forwardness to heaven with that curb, ' A young saint, an old devil,' 
and, ' Wild youth is blessed with a staid age ! ' But indeed, most likely, a 
young saint proves an old angel, and a young Esau an old devil. 

And hence follows the ruhi of so many great houses, that the young 
master is suflered to live like an Esau till he hath huntecl away his patri- 
mony, wliich scarce lasts the son so many years as the father that got it 
had letters in his name. But what cares he for the birthright ? When all 
is gone, he, like Esau, can live by the sword. He will fetch gold from the 
Indies but he "will have it. But he might have saved that journey, and 
kept what he had at home. If the usurer hath bought it, though for i)or- 
ridge, he will not part with it again, though they weep tears. It is bet- 
ter to want superfluous means than necessary moderation. In se magna 
ruunt, siimniisque negatuvi est stare din; especially when the huge Colosses 



Gen. XXV. 27.] politic hunting. 13 

have not sound feet. Vast desires, no less than buildings, where founda- 
tions are not firm, sink by their own magnitude. And there comes often 
fire ex rhamno, out of the bramble, Judg. ix. 20, that burns up the men of 
Shechem, and sets on fire the eagle's nest in the cedars. Vs. xxxvii. IG, 
Parvum jiisto, ' A little that a righteous man hath is better than the riches 
of many wicked.' And a i)lain Jacob will prosper better than a profane 
hunting Esau. Let a man begin then with God. ' Wherewithal shall a 
young man cleanse his way 1 By taking heed thereunto according to thy 
word,' Ps. cxbc. 9. 

Thus literally ; let us now come to some moral application to ourselves. 

Hunting is, for the most part, taken in the Holy Scripture in the worst 
sense. So, Gen. x. 9, Nimrod was a hunter, even to a proverb ; and that 
* before the Lord,' as without fear of his majesty. Now, if it were so hate- 
ful to hunt beasts, what is it to hunt men ? The wicked oppressors of 
the world are here typed and taxed, who employ both arm and brain to 
hunt the poor out of their habitations, and to drink the blood of the op- 
pressed. Herein observe — I. The persons hunted; II. The manner of 
hunting ; and. III. The hounds. 

I. The poor are their prey : any man that either their wit or violence 
can practise on. Not so much beggars ; yet they would be content to 
hunt them also out of their coasts ; but those that have somewhat worth 
their gaping after, and whose estates may minister some gobbets to their 
throats. Aquila non capit muscas, — the eagles hunt no flies so long as 
there be fowls in the air. The commonalty, that by great labour have 
gotten a little stay for themselves, these they hunt and lay along, and 
prey upon their prostrate fortunes. 

If they be tenants, woe is them : fines, rents, carriages, slaveries, shall 
drink up the sweat of their brows. There is law against coiners ; and it 
is made treason, justly, to stamp the king's figure in forbidden metals. 
But what is metal to a man, the image of God ! And we have those that 
coin money on the poor's skins : traitors they are to the King of kings. 

The whole country shall feel their hunting. They hunt commons into 
severals, tilled grounds into pastures, that the gleaning is taken from the 
poor, which God commanded to be left them, and all succour, except they 
can graze in the highAvays. And to others, to whom their rage cannot 
extend, their craft shall ; for they will hoist them in the subsidies, or over- 
charge them for the wars, or vex them with quarrels in law, or perhaps 
theii' servants shall in direct terms beat them. Naboth shall hardly keep 
his vineyard, if any nook of it disfigures Ahab's lordsliip. If they cannot 
buy it on their own price, they will to lav/ for it ; wherein they respect no 
more than to have ansam quereloi, a colourable occasion of contention ; 
for they will so weary him, that at last he shall be forced to sell it. But 
TuUy says of that sale, Ereptio, non emptio est, — It is an extortiVig, not a 
purchasing. 

Thus the poor man is the beast they hunt; who must rise early, rest 
Late, eat the bread of sorrow, sit vriili many a hungiy meal, perhaps his 
children crj-ing for food, while all the fruit of his pains is served into Nim- 
rod's table. Complaui of tliis whiles you will, yet, as the orator said of 
Verres, pecuniosus nescit damnari. Indeed, a money-man may not be 
damnified, but he may be damned. For this is a crying sin, and tho 
wakened ears of the Lord will hear it, neither shall his provoked hands 
forbear it. Si tacuerint pauperes, loqueniur lapides, — If the poor should 
hold their peace, the very stones would speak. The fines, rackings, en- 



14 POLITIC HUNTING. [SeEMON I. 

closiires, oppressions, vexations, will cry to God for vengeance, "The 
stone will cry out of the wall, and the beam out of the timber shall 
answer it,' Hab. ii. 1 1. 

You see the beasts they hunt. Not foxes, not wolves, nor boars, bulls, 
nor tigers. It is a certain observation, no beast hunts its owTi kind to de- 
vour it. Now, if these should prosecute wolves, foxes, &c., they should 
then hunt their own kind ; for they are these themselves, or rather worse 
then these ; because here homo homini lupus. But though they are men 
they hunt, and by nature of the same kind, they arc not so by quality ; for 
they are lambs they persecute. In them there is blood, and flesh, and 
fleece to be had ; and therefore on these do they gorge themselves. In 
them there is weak armour of defence against their cruelties ; therefore 
over these they may domineer, I will speak it boldly : There is not a 
mighty Nimrocl in this land that dares hunt his equal ; but over his in- 
ferior laml) he insults like a young Nero. Let him be graced by high ones, 
and he must not be saluted under twelve score oif. In the country he 
proves a termagant ; his very scowl is a prodigy, and breeds an earthquake. 
He would be a Caasar, and tax aU, It is well if he prove not a cannibal. 
Only Alacro salutes Sejanus so long as he is in Tiberius's favour ; cast him 
from that pinnacle, and the dog is ready to devour him. 

II, You hear the object they hunt; attend the manner. And this you 
shall find, as Esau's, to consist in two things — -force and fraud. They are 
not only hunters, but cunning hunters. 

1. For their force, they are rohicsti latrones, and have a violent, impetu- 
ous, imperious hunting, 'Desolation and destruction are in their paths,' 
Isa, lix, 7. We may say of them as TertuUian said of the !Montanists, 
Non tarn lahorant ut cedi^carent sua, quam ut destruerent aliena, — They 
seek not so much their own increasing as the depopulation of others. 
Philosophers hold the world to be composed of three concurrent principles 
— matter, form, and privation ; holding the last to be rather a principle of 
transmutation than of establishment. Oppressors, besides the matter, which 
is the commonwealth, and the form, which is justice, have devised to malce 
ueces-sary also privation. 

There are sms which strive only intra orbem suum ficrere, which have no 
further latitude than the conscience of the committer. They are private 
and domestical sins, the sting whereof dies in the proprietary. Such are 
prodigality, envy, sloth, pride. Though evil example may do somewhat, 
they have no further extension. But some are of so ^vild a nature that they 
iwe mallets and sv/ords to the whole country about them. And these are 
distinctly the sins of the hand. So Micah ii. 2, ' They covet fields, and 
take them by violence ; and houses, even a man and his heritage.' Why 
do they ^all this but because manus potest, ver. 1, ' it is in the power of 
their hand.' And they measure their power, saith Seneca, by the span, by 
the reach of their hands : Injuriis vires metiuntur. Anaxagoras thougl^t 
man the wisest of all creatures because he hath hands, whereby he can ex:- 
press all signs. He might have concluded hun the wickedest of all crea- 
tures quia manuatus, because he hath hands; for no tiger or vultiu-e under 
heaven is more hurtful with his ckws and talons than man with his hands. 
AchiUcs asked Palamedes going to the Trojan wars why he went without a 
servant ? He shewed him his hands, and told him they were loco servorum, 
in stead of many servants. Mcmus or/janum organorum. Their dexterity 
and aptness chargeth them with sins whereof the other parts are no less 
guilty. 



GeX. XXV. 27.] POLITIC HUNTING. 15 

For the most part, those beasts have least inimaiiity that have most 
strength. Oxen, and horses, and elephants are tame and serviceable, but 
bees and hornets have stings. So wisely hath the Creator disposed, that 
there may not be a conjunction et potentice et malevolent ue, — that might and 
malice may not meet. So they are suffered to have avUI to hurt, and not 
power; or power, and not will. The curst cow hath short horns ; but these 
hunters have got both. The poet saith — 

' That lions do not prey on yielding things ; 
Pity 's infeoffed to the blood of kings.' 

Posse et nolle, nohile. That thou mayest harm and wilt not is laus iua, 
thy praise ; that thou wouldest imd canst not, gratia Dei, is God's provi- 
dence. Haman would hang ]\Iordecai, and cannot ; he is a \aLlain in hell 
for his intent. David, when he had Saul in the cave, could hurt, and 
would not ; he is a saint in heaven. Shimei would, but cannot kill (though 
rail on) David ; David can, and will not, kill Shimei. The hot disciples 
would have fire from heaven to destroy the Samaritans, and could not; 
Christ could command it, and would not. How rare is a man of this dis- 
position among us ! If advantage hath thrust a booty into his hands, the 
lamb is in the wolves' cave with more securitj'. Plead what thou wilt, 
prostrate thy own innocence, aggravate the oppressor's cruelty, he answers 
as ^sop's wolf answered the lamb : ' Thy cause is better than mine, but my 
teeth are better than thine; I will eat thee.' And this is a shrewd in- 
vincible argument, when the cause must be tried out by the teeth. Factum 
non pactum est, non ixictum pactum est; quicquid illis luhet, — Bargain or 
not bargain, the law must be on their sides. JVe7no jMtentes tutus potest 
aggrecli, — He comes to his cost, that comes to complain agamst them. 

2. For theu- fraud, they are cunning hunters. They are foxes as well as 
lions to get their prey. Nay, the fox-head doth them often more stead 
than the lion's skin. ' They hunt with a net,' Micah vii. 2. They have 
their politic gins to catch men. Gaudy wares and dark shops (and would 
you have them love the light that live by darkness, as many shopkeepers V) 
draw and tole customers in, where the crafty leeches can soon feel their 
pulses : if they must biiy, they shall pay for their necessity. And though 
they plead. We compel none to buy our ware, caveat emptor; yet with fine 
voluble phrases, damnable protestations, they will cast a mist of error be-, 
fore an eye of simple truth, and with cunning devices hunt them in. So 
some among us have feathered their nests, not by open violence, but politic 
circumvention. They have sought the golden fleece, not by Jason's merit, 
but by Medea's suljtlety, by Medea's sorcerj'. 

If I should intend to discover these hunters' plots, and to deal pmictually 
with them, I should afford you more matter than you would afford me time. 
But I lioiiit myself, and answer all their pleas with Augustine : Their tricks 
may hold m jure fori, but not in jure poli, — in the common-pleas of earth, 
not before the king's bench m heaven. 

Neither do these cunning hunters forage only the forest of the world, 
but they have ventured to enter the pale of the church, and hunt there. 
They will go near to empark it to themselves, and thrust God out. So 
many have done in this land ; and though it be danger for the poor hare 
to preach to Uons and foxes, I am not afraid to tell them that they hunt 
where they have nothing to do. Poor ministers are dear to them, for they 
are the deer they hunt for. How many parishes in England (almost the 
number of half) have they empaled to themselves, and chased the Lord's 



18 POLITIC HUXTIXG. [SeEMON I. 

deer out ? Yea, now, if God lay challenge to Iiis own ground, against tlieir 
sacrilegious impropriations, for his own titles, they are not ashamed to tell 
him they are none of his ; and what laws soever he hath made, they will 
hold them with a non obstante. They were taken into the church for 
patrons, defenders ; and they prove offenders, thieves : for most often 
patrocinia, latrocinia. 

You have read how the badger entertained the hedgehog into his cabin 
as Ids inward friend ; but, being wounded with the prickles of his offensive 
guest, he mannerly desired him to depart in kindness, as he came. The 
hedgehog thus satisfies his just expostulation : That he for his part found 
himself very well at ease, and they that were not had reason to seek out 
another place that likes them better. So the poor horse, entreating help 
of the man against the stag, ever after, Non equltem dorso, non freeman 
depuUt ore, — They have rid us, and bridled us, and backed us, and spurred 
us, and got a tyranny over us, whom we took in for our familiar friends and 
favourites. 

III. Now for their hounds. Besides that they have long noses them- 
selves, and hands longer than their noses, they have dogs of all sorts. 

Beagles, cunning intelligencers. Eo laudaUlior, quo fraudulentior, — 
the more crafty they are, the more commendable. 

Their setters, prowling promoters ; Avhereof there may be necessary use, 
as men may have of dogs, but they take them for mischievous purposes. 

Their spaniels, fawning sycophants, that lick their masters hands, but 
are brawling ever at poor strangers. 

Their great mastifis ; surly and sharking bailiffs, that can set a rankling 
tooth in the poor tenants' ribs. 

They have their ban-dogs, corrupt solicitors, parrot-lawyers, that are their 
properties and mere trunks, whereby they inform and plead before justice 
against justice. And as the hounds can sometimes smell out the game before 
their master, as having a better nose than he an eye, so these are stUl pick- 
ing holes in poor men's estates, and raking up broken titles ; which if they 
justly be defended, actio Jit non lustralis, sed secularis. Where if (because 
justice doth sometimes prevail) it go against them, yet major est expen- 
sarum sumptus, quam sententice fructus, — the cost is more chargeable than 
the victory profitable. 

Some of them, whose pale is the Burse, have their bloodhounds ; long- 
nosed, hook-handed brokers, that can draw the sinking estate of poor men 
by the blood of necessity. If they spy pride and prodigality in the streets, 
they watch over them as puttocks over a dying sheep. For pascuntur sce- 
lere, they are not doves but ravens, and therefore sequuntur cadavera, follow 
carcases. Oh that some blessed medicine could rid our land of these Avarts 
and scabs, free us from these curs ! The cunning hunters could not do so 
much mischief without these lurchers, these insatiate hounds. 

Thus I have shewed you a field of hunters; what should I add, but my 
prayers to heaven, and desires to earth, that these hunters may be hunted 1 
'J'he hunting of harmful beasts is commended : the wolf, the boar, the bear, 
the fox, the tiger, the otter. ]'ut the metaphorical hunting of these is more 
praiseworthy; the country wolves, or city foxes, deserve most to be hunted. 
Non est mew parvitatis, &c. I am too shallow to advise you de modo : I 
only wish it might be done. They that have authority to do it know best 
the means, I will but discover the game, and leave it to their hunting, nam- 
ing the persons they should hunt ; they know the hounds wherewithal. 

1. There is the wild boar, that breaks over God's mounds, and spoils his 



Gen. XXA\ 27.] politic hunting. 17 

Aineyard : Ps. Ixxx. 1 3, * The boar out of the wood doth waste it, and the 
wild beast of the field doth devour it.' This is the depopiilator, that will 
forage and lay all wa.ste, if he be not restrained. What ! do you call him 
a wasting boar 1 He rather encloseth all, brcaketh up none. Yes, he lays 
waste the conimonwerdth, though he encloseth to himself. He wasteth so- 
cieties, comnniuity, neighbourhood of people ; turns them out of their ancient 
doors, sends them to the wide world to beg their bread. He is a bloody 
boar, and hath two damnable tusks : money, to make him friends, and to 
charm connivance ; and a wicked conscience, that cares not to swim t) heU 
in blood. The brawny shield of this boar, whereby he bears off all blows of 
curses, is the security of his own dead heart. He thinks the cries and iilula- 
tions of -widows and orphans the best music. When the hand of God strikes 
him, (as strike him it will, and that fearfully,) he even rouseth and rageth 
on him, and dies like an angry boar, foaming at mouth, as if he were spit- 
ting defiance at heaven. Let this beast be hunted. 

2. There is the fox, the crafty cheater, that steals the gi-apcs : Cant. ii. 15, 
' Take us the foxes,' etc. It is God's charge to hunt him. He turns beasts 
out of their dens by defiling them. He sold his conscience to the de\dl for 
a stock of villanous mt. He hath a stinking breath, corrupted with oaths 
and lies ; and a ravenous throat, to prey upon men's simpleness. If all tricks 
fail, he ■will counterfeit himself dead, that so drawing the fowls to feed upon 
him, he may feed upon them. The defrauder puts on a semblance of great 
.smoothness ; you would take him for a wonderful honest man. Soft ! you 
are not yet within his clutches ; when you are, Lord have mercy on you, for 
he will have none ! 

3. There is the bloody wolf ; the professed cut-throat, the usurer. Hunt 
him, seize on his den ; it is full of poor men's goods. What a golden law 
would that be which were called a .statute of restitution ! Such a one as 
Nehemiah enacted, chap, v., that land and vineyards, houses and goods, 
mortgaged into usurers' hands, should be restored ; when he sealed it with 
a sacramental oath, and made them swear consent to it : ' And he shook his 
lap, and said, So God shake out every man from his house, and from his 
labour, that performeth not this promise ; even thus be he shaken out, and 
emptied. And all the congregation said. Amen,' ver. 13. But if they will 
not restore by themselves, they .shall by their posterity. For as Pliny writes 
of the wolf, that it brings forth bhnd whelps ; so the usurer lightly begets 
blind children, that cannot see to keep what their father left them. But 
when the father is gone to hell for gathering, the son often follows for scat- 
tering. But God is just. ' A good man leaveth his inheritance to his chil- ' 
dren's children ; and the wealth of the sinner is laid up for the just,' Prov, 
xiiL 22. 

4. There is also the badger, a beast of rapine. We have fellows among 
us, the engrossers of corn, the raisers of price, sweeping away whole markets; 
we call these badgers. The poor that comes vnth. a little money cannot 
speed, but at an unreasonable rate. They engross all. And by their capa- 
city, or rather rapacity, having so much in their hand.s, they sell it at the 
place of their transporting at their own price. 

5. The dromedary would alscj be better hunted. I mean the vagrant 
rogue-s, whose whole life is nothing but an exorbitant course; the main 
begging, the byes filching and stealing. Only they are not so serviceable as 
the dromedary, which is a bea.st of quick feet and strange speed. The reason 
is given by Aristotle, because the extreme heat of nature doth waste all the 
unctuosity and fatness, and thereby gives greater agility. But these drome- 

VOL. I. B 



1 8 POLITIC HUNTING. [SeRMON L 

daries are not swift. Let one charitable constable amongst a bundred light 
on him, and give him correction, and a passport to his (false-named) place 
of birth, and he will not travel above a mile a day. Let them alone, and 
they will ' traverse their ways,' Jer. ii. 23, Avhich are no ways, for they can- 
not keep the beaten path ; let them be where they will, they are never out 
of their way. They may boast themselves of the brood of Cain, for they 
are perpetual runagates. If the stocks and whip-post cannot stay their ex- 
travagance, there remains only the jad-house. 

6. Let the roaring buU be hunted : the bulls of Bashan, the bulls of Rome,, 
sent over by the Pope ad interitum, either of us or themselves ; for their 
end is not implere ecdesiam, but coem,eterium, — to fill churchyards with dead 
bodies, not the church with living souls. No service would be so welcome 
to them as the Sicilian evensong or the Parisian matins. But since no drug 
is current in their shops but diacatholicon, treason and ruin, let it be first 
ministered to themselves to purge their burning fevers. And since the Pope 
sends his bulls into England so thick, bellowing to call his calves together, 
and to excite their revolting from their sovereign, let them speed no other- 
wise than those bulls once did, that called in another bull, which was Bull 
the hangman, to despatch them all. 

If you be disposed to hunt, hunt these beasts that havoc the common- 
wealth : let the lambs alone, they do much good, no hurt. And to this chase 
use all your skill ; in this work it shall be your commendation to be cunning 
hiinters. The Lord shaU empark you within the pale of his own merciful 
providence, and restrain the savage fury of your enemies. Let those whom 
God hath made masters of this serious game, and given commission to hunt 
vicious persons, look to it. Let every particidar man hunt vice out of his 
own heart. If there be any violence to get the kingdom of heaven, use it ; 
if any policy to overthrow Satan and liis accomplices, against whom we 
wrestle, exercise it. This war shall be your peace. You shall help to purge 
the land of noxious beasts, and cleanse your own hearts from those lusts, 
which if you hunt not to death shall hunt you to death ; as was the moral 
of Acta^on. And God, that gives you this command and courage, shall add 
for it a merciful recompense ; taking you at last from this militant chase to 
the park of his triumphant rest. Amen. 



PLAIN-DEALING 



A PRECEDENT OF HONESTY, 



Jacoh was a plain man, dwelling in tents. — Gex. XXV. 27. 

TiiE -world (I take it in Paul's sense, Eom. xii. 2) is grown at once deformed 
and subtle. And as it is commonly seen that misshapen trunks are houses 
of the sharpest wits, — as it was said of the Emperor Galba, Ingenium Galhce 
male habitat, because he had an acute wit with an uncomely body, nature 
recompensing her defection one way vv'itli perfection another way, — so the 
world is become ill-favoured and shrewd-pated, as politic m brain as it is 
stigmatic in limbs. Honesty, though it be elder than fraud, yet hath lost 
the privilege in men's estimation : it may keep the priority, the superiority 
is gone ; and it must be fain to serve the younger. 

Plam-dealing was held a good citizen, a good townsman ■ but Double- 
dealing, since he came blustering in, hath thrust him sedibus, a'dibus, out of 
house and home ; out of repute among men, out of succour of friends ; out 
of commons, and almost out of canons ; out of his house in the town and 
seat ill the church. 

I will therefore call back antiquity, and present to your eyes the purity of 
the primitive times. For I may say with Tertullian, Ferfediora pi'ima; the 
nearer the spring-head, the purer streams. Men, quo minus ab ortu aberant, 
might more perfectly discern and more constantly follow the truth. Jacob 
is our exemplar and pattern of plain-dealing. He ' was a plain man, dwell- 
ing in tents.' 

Jacod, taken in the proper sense, significth to supplant. Indeed Esau 
abusetli it. Gen. xxvii. 3G, ' Is he not rightly named Jacob 1 for he hath suji- 
planted me these two tunes : he took away my birthright ; and, behold, 
noAv he hath taken away my blessing.' But Jacob did not steal away his 
birthright, but only took the advantage to buy what careless Esau was willing 
to sell. And having the birthright, the blessing did justly belong to hini ; 
for the birthright and the blessing were not to be separated. Ijut this name 
was a prediction of that fell out afterwards, for Jacob indeed supplanted and 
overthrew his brother. 



20 PLAIN-DEALIXC. [SeRMON II. 

The character gives him ' a plain man, dwelling in tents.' This is a mani- 
fest description of Jacob's conversation and of his profession. 

For his life, he was a plain-dealing man; simple and without fraud. 
Though some antithetically oppose it to Esau's roughness : that Esau was 
a hairy man, but Jacob was plain and smooth, without any semblance to 
his brother's ruggedncss. We deny not that Jacob was so ; that exposition 
is true, but not enough. It falls short of that praise which God's Spirit 
here means him. ' He was a plain man,' witliout craft or subtlety. 

For his delight and profession, he 'dwelt in tents;' which, though the 
Hebrews expound of frequenting the tents of Sliem and Heber for knowledge, 
is indeed only a description of such as live in the fields and employ them- 
selves about cattle ; and this we frequently find to be Jacob's desire and 
practice. The good patriarchs were plain men, — plahi in their clothes, no 
seas crossed for strange stuffs and fashions, — plain in their houses, which 
were mere tents, not gorgeous parlours without hospitahty, — plam in their 
diet, as Jacob here, that fed on lentil-pottage. 

But having thus proposed Jacob for a precedent of plain-dealing, it is 
primarily necessary to prove him clearly so ; otherwise, the original being 
faulty, there can hardly be taken a good copy out of it. There are excep- 
tions made against Jacob's plainness, and that in regard of his dealing both 
with his own brother Esau and with his father-in-law Laban. 

I will briefly examine either, and how far he may be justified. In regard 
of Esau, it is objected that he strove against him before, at, and after his 
birth. 

Before. — It is said, ver. 22, ' The children struggled together within their 
mother's womb.' Never brothers began so early a Litigation. These two 
were the champions of two mighty nations, successively to be derived from 
their loins ; and they begin this opposition in a duel or single combat, when 
the field was their mother s womb — the quarrel, precedency and chiefdom. 

This was not a pleasant and merry contention, as some would read it, 
Ambrose, Hierom, Augustine, so give it : exuUare, gestire, hiclere, — to leap, 
skip, or play. But it was an earnest struggling, as we translate it ; the word 
signifying to beat, hurt, or bruise one another. 

It was not a natural strife or ordinary motion. Aristotle affirms that 
male twins do strive in the right side upon the fortieth day, and females in 
the left on the ninetieth day. But by Aristotle's leave, what woman, except 
Rebekah, ever complained of so strange and early a contention 1 Nature was 
not here alone, if at least she was here at all. 

Nor yet was this struggling voluntary and considerate. They did not 
strive scientia certandi, with a knowledge capable of what they did, or with 
any skill of wrestling. No, it was extraordinaiy, moved by a higher cause, 
not without the presage and signification of a great eftcct. It portended the 
future conccrtation of two great people. Neither if it had been pleasant, 
natural, or usual, would Kebekah have been so strangely affected or troubled 
with it as to cry out, ' Why am I thus ?' or to solicit God by prayer to laioA\- 
what it meant. 

And is it any wonder that Jacob and Esau wrestle in their mother's womb, 
when their seed, especially after a si)iritual signification, must for ever wi-estle 
in the world 1 Shall the womb of the church on earth be ever free from 
carnal professors mingled with holy ? And is it possible these should live 
together in perfect peace, that are of so contrary natures 1 The wolf shall 
sooner dwell with the lamb, and the leopard play with the untroubled Idd, 
and children sit unstung at the holes of asps. The sons of Belial Avill not 



Gen. XXV. 27.] plain-dealing. 21 

let the sons of God live in quiet ; that enmity which was once put between 
the seed of the woman and of the serpent wUl not so easily be reconciled. 
Indeed the seed of Esau is the irreater, but they serve the less. They are 
more in number, stronger in power ; yet cannot extend it further than the 
permitting b.and of Heaven wills it. And even whiles they do persecute the 
righteous, quiOus nocere volunt, j^rosunt plurimiim, siii autem ipsi maxime 
nocent, — they hurt only themselves, and benefit those to whom they in- 
tended nothing less. They are our apothecaries, to minister us bitter pills, 
but so that they cannot put in one ingredient more than the Lord allows 
them. 

Origeu draws from this a mystical sense, and understands these twc 
combatants to be within us ; as if it had presignified what Paul affirmeth, 
Gal. v. 17, ' The flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the 
flesh ; and these are contrary the one to the other.' Kcbekah may well thus 
ligure the state of a regenerate soul, wherein till ' tliis mortal shall put on im- 
mortality,' and glory swallow up corruption, there must be a perpetual con- 
flict. In men unconverted on earth, in saints glorified in heaven, there is no 
such imquietness : the former being without a Jacob, the latter without an 
Esau ; these having no flesh, the other nothing but flesh. But in men called 
and justified by the blood of Christ, yet in a militant estate, there is a neces- 
sity of this combat. No strife, no Christian. Before sanctification there is 
ail peace in the soul. How should there choose, when there is no enemy to 
resist ? The unregenerate heart hath only an Esau m it ; what strife can there 
be without a Jacob I Nature can very easdy agree with itself. Disturbance 
is a sign of sanctification ; there is no gxace where there is all peace. No 
sooner is the new man formed in us, but suddenly begins this quarrel. The 
remaining corruption will fight with grace, and too often prevail against it. 
Indeed it hath lost the dominion, but not the opposition ; the sovereignty, 
not the subtlety ; it will dwell, though it cannot reign, Rom. vii. Never 
any Rebekah was so happy as to conceive none but a Jacob ; Esau, the flesh, 
will be there also, to give trial and exercise. If grace alone sat in the heart, 
the hopeless devil would forbear his tentations ; he knows he hath a friend 
in our house that will be ready to let him in. So long as there is a Judas 
with Christ, he will not despair of betraying him. It is our corruption he 
works upon : if it were not for this Esau, he would not proffer assault. We 
see our combat, let us fight and conquer. Our flesh is the elder brother, 
grace is born after nature ; but when tliis Jacob comes, he will get the supe- 
riority: 'The elder shall serve the younger.' This strife begins betimes; 
there is no Israelite but must be content to commence this war with his' 
being. Regeneration and contention salute us at once ; wo cannot enter our 
names into Christ's muster-book but we must fight. Let the secure world- 
ling live at his cowardly ease, we must look for a skirmish. Herein stands 
our comfort, ' We shaU be more than conquerors, through him that loved 
us,' Rom. viii. 37. 

At his Birth. — The strife is not ended at once, but continues, or rather 
is renewed at the birth : ' Afterward came his brother out, and his hand held 
Esau by the heel.' Lest Esau should outrun his brother into the world, 
Jacob catcheth fast hold of his heel. So that though Esau's body have the 
primogeniture, yet Jacob's hand was born before his heel. Razi hath a con- 
ceit, that though Esau was first bom, yet .Tacob was first conceived, and 
therefore the birthright did of right belong unto him. But it is without 
question that Esau had the start of nature, though Jacob of grace ; and 
therefore Jacob holds him by the heel, as if he would stay hun from possess- 



22 PLAl-V-DE-VLING. [SeEMON II. 

ijig that privUegc which nature (God afterwards disposing otherwise) be- 
Btowi-d on him. ^ i -j +„ 

VnKK THK lliRTH.— And herein there are two impeachments laid to 
JacL.-:* I.lain-dwding. He is accused with fraudulent stratagems concernmg 
thu hirthriqht and concerning the blessing. 

For the ^birthn<jlU.—\\.<m is by some few minutes the elder, and that w'as 
enough to give liiin just title to the birthright. That Jacob therefore might 
have the better claim to it, he buys that which he could not win, and by an 
holiest art redeems the losses of nature. But this action smells of cunning, 
and scorns to mar the credit of his plain-dealing. 

1. Jacob is accused for cmel and uncharitable dealing with his brother. 
Esau conies hungrj- from the field ; he is ready to die for want of sustenance ; 
ho .sees his brother, in no such exigent, with food in his hand ;^ he breaks 
forth into an earnest comj.laint, cntreatuig his commiseration. Now^, shall a 
brother ilcny reUef to his brother, beuig ready to die, except upon such into- 
lerable conditions ? Sure it could be no less than a hard measure to take 
such atlviujtage of a brother's necessity. But it is answered, that there could 
not bo any such necessity of Esau's coveting Jacob's pottage, for there was, 
if not lentil-pottage, store of as good meat in the house, able to have given 
satisfaction to his hunger, and ready enough at his request, being the elder 
^'on. It was not, then, distressed ncedmess, but insatiate greediness. And 
it is not unfit that the luxurious appetite should pay for his folly. 

1'. But Jacob cannot be excused of covetousness, that would set no lower 
a price on his pottage than the birthright ; which comprehended many pri- 
vileges, — priority, govcnnnent of the brethren, a double portion to the rest, 
the pricsthootl and right to sacrifice, and, what yet further commended it, a 
tyiH.' and figure of everlasting life. And will Jacob require such a birthright, 
uicluduig idl these jirivileges, for a mess of pottage ? What tyrant could set 
such an impost on a merchandise? what citizen such a price on his en- 
grossed commodities? Here was an exaction beyond the taxing of Tiberius. 
Wo answer, not as the Hebrews conceit, that Jacob afterwards gave a greater 
i<un», and p;ud this but as an earnest, the Scripture neither expressing directly 
nor inferring by consequence any such matter; but we say that Jacob, by 
the instruction of his mother, knew that the birthright did justly belong to 
hun, by the i(rcordination of God, therefore now wisely taketh this oppor- 
tunity to recover that to himself whereof his brother was but an usurper. 
For though Esau could plead the right of nature, Jacob could the right of 
grace, and he knew this would at last prevail. Neither yet must this parti- 
cular fact of Jucob be drawn into a general imitation. His warrant was 
fhvine revelation, the silence whereof in these days sends us for direction to 
the written trutli, ' to the law, to the testimony,' Isa. viii. 20 : let this re- 
Holvc and instruct thee. 

3. But this birtliright was a holy thing, and therefore the Apostle calls 
him a profane person, Hob. xii. IG, for selling it. Now there is no profane- 
nes« in ueUing a thing not sacred. But if sanctified things cannot be sold 
witjjout sm, can they be bought without sin ? Did not Jacob offend as much 
in the »)no as K^au in the other? It is well answered, that Jacob hitelligi 
}^,UU sitam reilemisM vfxa(ionnn,~hc did but buy his own vexation. He 
buys not Himply a thing whercunto he had no right, but only taketh this 
«-c.a.Hion to recover his own ; whereof the appointnient of God had made him 
a l.o;H.Hil,lo, yea, certiunly, future proprietary. It was never held simony for 
a ^plntuHl man to buy his own peace. Many things arc detained from the 
cJergy unjustly, wluch God's law hath made sacred and theirs. They may, 



Gen. XXV. 27.] rLAix-DEALixc. 23 

therefore, without touch of simoniacal dealing, redeem their own quietness, 
and i^urchase a peaceable possession. I say not that any man may buy a 
spiritual endowment before he hath it ; but when he hath it in right, he may 
purchase his own peaceful and quiet enjoying it. All that can be said is 
this, Esau preferred his belly before his birthright ; Jacob his birthright be- 
fore liis belly. The one sold spiritual things for temporal ; the other with, 
temporal things bought spiritual. 

And wIk) will not part with transient benefits for eternal blessings ? If 
either by suit, or strife, or purchase we can attain heaven, we are happy. 
For suit ; there is no hour unseasonable, no prayer tinwelcome, no im- 
portunity troublesome. The unjust judge could give relief to the importu- 
nate widow, Luke xviii. 5 ; and shall not our just God give ear and ease to our 
incessant plaints I Spare to speak and spare to speed ; the timorous re- 
quester teacheth the invocated a denial. For sti'ife ; we know who taught 
us, that ' the kingdom of heaven suffers violence,' and must be attained by a 
holy kind of force. Jacob must -wTestle for the blessing before he hath it ; 
and so wrestling he shall have it, though he be sent halting to his grave. 
The Lord knows our strength, yet he loves our violence and importunity ; 
and therefore hath so conditioned the gate of heaven, that without our striv- 
ing we must not look to enter it. For purchase ; had a far higher rate been 
set on the birthright, Jacob would not have grudged to gdve it. He hath 
too much of the blood of Esau in him that will not forego all the world 
rather than the birthright. The wise merchant, when he knew the field 
wherein lay that hidden treasure, sold all he had to buy it. He is a be- 
sotted cosmopolite that refuseth to purchase such spiritual friends by his 
riches as may procure him a place in the celestial habitations, Luke xvi. 9. 
Grudge not him a portion of thy temporal wealth that is able to minister 
everlasting comfort to thy conscience. Thou art no loser, if thou mayest ex- 
change earth for heaven. 

For the blessing. — What hath secure Esau lost, if liaving sold the birth- 
right he may reserve the blessing? Behold, of this he assureth himself: his 
father hath sent him for venison, that ' his soul might bless him,' Gen. xxvii. 
■4. To hunting he is gone in haste ; meaning to recover that again by his 
o^vn venison which he had lost by his brother's pottage. Isaac being now 
blind in his eyes, but yet blinder in his affections, forgetting what decree 
and sentence God had formerly passed of his two sons, for some temporal 
regard doth favour Esau, and intends to bequeath unto him that spiritual 
and happy legacy of the blessing, God had said that ' the elder shall serve 
the younger;' yet forgetful Isaac purposeth to bless his first-born, Esau. 
How easy is it even for a saint to be transported with natural affections ! 
He could not but remember that himself, though the younger, was preferred 
to his elder brother, Ishmael; he knew that God's command prevailed with 
his father Abraham above nature, when he bound him for a sacrifice. He 
.saw Esau lewdly matched with the daughters of heathens : yet he will now 
think on nothing but, Esau is my first-born ; and, if it be possible, he will 
pour the benediction upon a wrong head. 

But God is often better to us than we would, and with liis ])reventing 
grace stops the precipitation of en-ing nature. So sweet is the ordination of 
the divine providence, that we shall not do what we would, but what we 
ought; and by deceiving us, tunis our purposed evil into eventual good. Wc 
are made to do that good which we not intended. God hath ordained the 
superiority to the younger; he will therefore contrive for hint the blessing 
"Whatsoever Isaac affected, this God will have effected. 



S4 



PLAI.N-DK.UJXG. [SeEISION II. 



To briiie the Lord's will to pass there never wanted means. Sinful man 
ij, , • ' ' ■ ' ill this ; the just decree of God stands xmtouched. He 
,; 1 of his Son, without favoiu: to their guilt that murdered 

1 . ,-; of parents are ht-re tlivdded : Isaac loves Esau, and 

liebckaii Juo.b ; this dilferenee shall make way to the fultilliug of the pro- 
mise. Neither jKireut neglected either son ; but Rebekah remembered the 
L<.ni'. puriRLse better than Isaac. Neither is it enough what Ambrose 
hill" ! -siith : .Uater a/edum, pater judicium indicat; mater circa minorem 
tcr r. ■ j)idat€ prupendit, pater circa seniorem naturce honor ijicentiam servat, 
— 'i ill! mother shews ali'ection, the father judgment : she tenderly loves the 
yoinu'L-r, he gives the honour of nature to the elder. Nay, rather, the 
m<'ilitr shews judgment, and the father affection. For what was Jacob to 
IW ( !..Lii more tluui Esau? Or why should she not rather love her first- 
Ixmi i It is God that inclines the mother's love to the younger against 
natua-. becaube the lather aliects the elder against the promise. Hereupon 
she will nither deceive her o^^^l husband, than he shall deceive his own 
chosen son of the decreed blessing. The "svife will be subtle when the hus- 
baiid is partial ; her honest fraud shall answer his forgetful indulgence. 
laaac would turn E.sau into Jacob ; liebekah doth turn JacolD into Esau. 

The di.sc(3urse or contem[)lation of the provident mother and her happy 
son's pas-ages in this action, I iind set down by so divine and accurate a 
pen, that, despairing of any tolerable imitation, I shall, without distaste to 
the n-adtT or imputation to myself, deliver it in his own express words : — 
' Itil' k.'.li, prcsuinuig upon the oracle of God, and her husband's simplicity, 
dai. s !.L' Jacob's surety for the danger, his counseller for the carriage of the 
bu>iiu-s, his cook for tlie diet ; yea, dresses both the meat and the man. 
And nnw puts dislies into his hand, words into Ms mouth, the garments on 
his back, the goat's hair upon the open parts of his body, and sends ]iim in 
thus furnished for the blessing ; standing no doubt at the door to see how 
well her lesson was learned, how well her device succeeded. And if old 
Isaac should by any of his senses have discerned the guile, she had soon 
stopt in and undertaken the blame, and urged him with that known will of 
Uoil concerning Jacob's donnnion and Esau's servitude, which either age or 
atr.-ction had made him forget. And now she wisheth that she could borrow 
E-au's tongue as well as his garments, that she might securely deceive all 
the senses of him which had sutlered himself more dangerously deceived with 
his affection. But this is past her remedy; her son must name himself 
Enau with the voice of Jacob.' * 

Wf see the proceeding : it is now cxanmiable whether this doth not some- 
what inii.cach the credit of Jacob's plam-dealing. There have been under- 
tAktrs of Jacob's justihcation, or at least excusation, in this fact. Let us hear 
what they say :— 1. Gre-ory llms excuseth it : that Jacob did not steal the 
blcssuiK by fraud, but sibi dehitam accepit, took it as a due to himself, in re- 
Jpcct that the- primogeniture was formerly devolved to him. The truth is, 
he that o^vned the birthright might justly challenge the blessing. But this 
doth n..t wholly excuse the fact. 2. Chry.sostom thus mitigates it : that 
luwi audio nocnid, ronlexU /ni,ulan,~hc did not deceive with a jnind to hurt, 
but only m ifspoct of the promi.sc of God. But this is not sufficient ; for 
thirc wn.s an mtcntion of hurt, both to Isaac in deceiving him, and to Esau 
in depriving hini of the blessing. But whatsoever may be pleaded for the 
defence ..f Jacobs dissimulation in outward ge.stui'e, there is no apology for 

bo^!« 'i'v^'i.ni'n'T^'":;'^""'''' •'"' "P''""^v!odged extract, the author in this sermon 
oorrowi many ncntcncca nod exprewions from Bishop Hall.— Ed. 



Gex. XXV. :27.J plain-dealing. 25 

the words of his tongue. The meaning of the speecli is in the speaker; 
therefore his tongue cannot be guiltless when it -goes against his cou.scious 
heart ; but the meaning of the gesture is in the interpreter, Avho gives it a 
voluntary construction. Gesture is more easily ruled than speech ; and it is 
hard if the tongue will not blab what a man is, in spite of his habit. Isaac's 
eyes might be deceived, they were dim ; his hands, by the roughness of the 
garments ; his nostrils, by the smell of them ; his palate, by the savour of 
the meat. All these senses yield alliance ; what then shall drive Isaac to a 
suspicion or incredulity I None but this, the ear sticks at the judgment ; 
that says, * The voice is the voice of Jacob.' To help forward this deceit, three 
lies are tumbled out, one in the neck of another : — (1.) * I am Esau thy first- 
born;' (2.) 'I have done as thou badest me;' (3.) 'Eat of my venison.' To 
clear liim of this sin of lying hath been more peremptorily undertaken than 
soundly performed. 

1. (Jhi-ysostom, Avith divers others, think that though he did lie, he did 
not sin, because he did it by the revelation and coun.sel of God. So that 
God, -willing to have the prediction fulfilled, dispensing and disposing all 
things, is brought in as the preordainer of Jacob's lie, that I say not the 
patron. But not without derogation to his divine justice. For, (1.) it ap- 
pears not that this was the counsel of God, but only Rebekah's device : Ver. 
8, ' Hear my voice, my son, in that which I command thee.' ' My voice,' not 
God's; 'what I command,' not what God approves. (2.) If Jacob had re- 
ceived any oraculous warrant for this project, he would not have had so 
doubtful an opinion of the success. The matter was foreseen of God, not 
allowed ; for God never inspireth lies. God's wise disposition of this means 
aftbrds no warrant of his approbation. He ordereth many things which he 
ordained not. The means were so unlawful that Jacob himself doth more 
distrust their success than hope for their blessing. He knew that good Isaac, 
being so plain-hearted himself, would severely punish deceit in his son. 
Men in oftice truly honest are the sorest enemies to fraudulent courses in 
others. He therefore carries his meat in trembling hands, and scarce dares 
hope that God will bless such a subtlety with good event. Yet he did ; but 
how ? Here was prodigal dissembling : a dissembled person, a dissembled 
name, dissembled venison, dissembling answer ; yet behold a true blessing, 
to the man, not to the means. Thus God may work his own will out of our 
infirmities ; yet without approval of our weakness, or wronging the integrity 
of his own goodness. 

2. Some have confessed it a lie, but a guiltless lie, by reason of a necessity 
imagined in this exigent ; as if God could not have wrought Isaac's heart to 
bless Jacob in this short interim, whiles Esau was gone a-hunting for venison. 
Origen says, that necessity may uige a man to use a lie as sauce to his meat ; 
another, as physicians use hellebore. But that which is simply evil can by 
no apology be made good. Causa patrocinio non bona, pejor erit. 

3. Some take from it all imputation of a lie, and directly justify it. Au- 
gu.stine ■■ thinks Jacob spoke mystically, and that it is to be referred to 
Jacob's body, not to Jacob's person; to the Christian church, that should 
take away the birthright from the elder. But we may better receive that 
Jacob fell into an infirmity than the colour of un allegory. Neither doth 
the success justify the means, as some philosophers have delivered, that 
prospentm seeing vacatur virtus, — lucky wickedness merits the name of good- 
ness. But Jacob's one act of falsehood shall not disparage wholly that sim- 
plicity the Scripture gives him ; he was ' a plain man.' To be unjust condemns 

* Horn. XXXV. in Genes. 



26 rLAI.N-DEALIXG. [SeEMON II. 

a man not the doing of one singular act unjustly; therefore God casts not 
off Jacob for thi-s one infirmity, but makes use of this infirmity to sei-ve his 
own i.iirj...sc. If Esau's and Jacob's works be weighed together in a bai- 
iUKi', one would think the more solid virtue to be in Esau's. 

hLiu obcyeth his father's wUl, painfully hunts venison, carefully prepares 
it ; here is nothing but praiseworthy. Jacob dissembles, offers kid's flesh 
for venison, couut<.'rfeits Esau, beguiles his father ; here is all blameworthy. 
I will not hereon speidc as a poet, — 

' Committiint eadem diverso crimina fato, 
lUe crucem, sceleria pretium tulit, hie Siadema,' — 

but infer with the Apostle, Rom. ix, 11, the purpose of God shall remain 
by election, wliich standeth not in works, but in grace. Therefore, howso- 
ever Jacob got the blessing against Isaac s will, yet once given, it stood ; 
neither did the father recant this act as an error, but saw in it the mercy of 
God, that prevented him of an error. So, ver. 33, ' I have blessed him, 
therefore he shall be blessed.' "When afterwards Esau came in, Isaac 
trembled ; his heart told him that he should not have intended the blessing 
where he did, and that it was due to him unto whom it was given, not in- 
tended, lie .saw now that he had performed unwilling justice, and executed 
God's purpose against his own. He rather cries mercy for wrong intending 
than thinks of reversing it. 

Yet then may Jacob stand for our precedent of plain-dealing, notwith- 
sL-xnding this jjarticular weakness. Who hath not often er en-ed, without the 
lois of his honest reputation ? Not that this fact shoidd embolden an imi- 
tation ; let us not tell Jacob's lie to get Jacob's blessing. It would be pre- 
^unlption in us, Avhat was in him infirmity; and God, that pardoned his 
weakness, would curse our obstinateness. 

There is yet one cavil more against Jacob's intcgTity, concerning Laban, 
alK)ut the particoloured sheep ; whether it were a fault in Jacob by the de\-ice 
of the pilled and straked rods to enrich himself. The answer is threefold : — 

1. This wa.s by the direction of God, Gen. xxxi. 11, who, being an infinite 
and illiinited Lord, hath an absolute power to transfer the right of things 
from one to another ; as he miglit justly give the land of Canaan to the Is- 
ratlites from the u.surping Canaamtes. 

2. Jacob apprehends this means to recover his own, due unto him by a 
dtjublc right :— First, as the wages of twenty years' service. Gen. xxxi. 7, yet 
unpaid. Secondly, as the dowry for his wives, Gen. xxxi. 15, whom miser- 
able L.d)an had tlirust upon him without any competent portion. Thirdly, 
c.siK>cially (Jod's v.an-ant concurring, it was lawful for him to recover that 
l»y policy wliiili was detained from him by injury. So did the Israelites 
l^orrow of the K.t,7ptian8 their best goods, jewels, and ornaments, and bore 
tluni away a.s a just recompense of their long service. 

3. La-stly, he is (piitted by that saying, Volenti non jit injuria. Laban 
Hoe-s that he was well blessed by Jacob's service ; the increasing his flocks 
m.ike.s hnn ]<.ath to part. Ihit Jacob hath served long enough for a dead pay; 
w.in.-what he nni-.t have, or be gone. His hard uncle bids him ask a hire ; 
you know Jacol/.s demand. Laban readily jiromoves this bargain ; which at 
la.st made lus «<>n-ni-law rich, and himself envious. So saith Calvin, Tmc- 
tntu, r,t pro suo tngnu.,; Laban is handled in his kind. He thought by 
thi.H nu.an.s to have n.ultiplied his own flocks ; but tho.se few spotted sheep 
and i;..at^ upon this c^.vu.ant, as if they had been weary of their old owner, 
alter their fashion, and run their best young into particolours, changin- at 



Gen. XXV. 27.] plain-dealing. 27 

once their colour and their master. So that tliis means which Jacob used 
was not fraudulent or artilicial, but natural ; not depending upon man's wit, 
but God's blessing, who, consideiing his tedious and painful service, pays him 
good wages out of his uncle's folds. For fourteen years the Lord hath for 
Jacob enriched Laban ; therefore for these last six he will out of Laban en- 
rich Jacob. And if the uncle's flock be the greater, the nephew's shall be 
the better. Most justly then is Jacob cleared from injustice; and no asper- 
sion of fraud viith. Laban can be cast to discredit his plain-dealing. 

He Dwelt in Tents. — Two things are observable in the holy patriarchs, 
and commendable to all that vnll be heirs with them of eternal life. 

L Their contempt of the world. They that dwell in tents intend not a 
long dwelling in a place. They are moveables, ever ready to be transferred 
xit the occasion and will of the inhabiter. Hcb. xi. 9, ' Abraham dwelt in tents 
with Isaac and Jacob, the heirs with him of the same promise.' The reason 
is added, ' for he looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and 
maker is God.' These saints studied not to enlarge their barns, as the rich 
cosmopolite, Luke xii., or to sing requiems to their souls, in the hoped per- 
petuity of earthly habitations. ' Soul, live ; thou hast enough laid up for 
many years.' Fool ! he had not enough for that night. They had no thought 
that their houses should continue for ever, and their dwelling-places to all 
generations ; thereupon calling their lands after their own names, Ps. xlix, 
11. God convinceth the foolish security of the Jews, to whom he had pro- 
mised (by the Messiah to be purchased) an everlasting royalty in heaven, 
by the Rechabites, Jer. xxxv. 7, who built no houses, but dwelt in tents, as 
if they were strangers, ready on a short warning for removal. The church 
esteems heaven her home, this world but a tent, a tent which we must all 
leave, build we as high as Babel, as strong as Babylon. When Ave have 
fortified, combined, feasted, death comes with a voider, and takes away all, 
* Dost thou think to reign securely, because thou closest thyself in cedar V Jer. 
xxii. 15. Friends must part : Jonah and his gourd, Nebuchadnezzar and his 
palace, the covetous churl and his bams. ' Arise, and depart, for this is not 
your rest,' Micah. ii. 10. Though you depart with grief from orchards fidl 
of fruits, grounds full stocked, houses dightly furnished, purses richly stuffed, 
from music, wine, junkets, sports ; yet go, you must go, every man to liis 
own home. He that hath seen heaven with the eye of faith, through the 
glass of the Scripture, slips off his coat with Joseph, and springs away. 
They that lived thrice our age yet dwelt in tents as pilgrims that did not 
own this world. The shortness and weakness of our days strengthens our 
reasons to vilipend it. The world is the field, thy body the tent, heaven thy 
freehold. The world is full of troubles ; winds of persecutions, storms of 
menaces, cold of uncharitableness, heat of malice, exhalations of prodigious 
terrors, will annoy thee. Love it not, 1 John ii. 15. Who can affect his 
own vexations 1 It is thy thoroughfare ; God loves thee better than to let 
it be thy home. Every misery on earth should turn our love to heaven. 
God gives this world bitter teats, that we might not suck too long on it. 
Satan, as some do with rotten nutmegs, gilds it over, and sends it his friends 
for a token. But when they put that spice into their broth, it infects their 
hearts. Set thy atiections on heaven, Avhere thou shalt abide for ever. This 
life is a tent, that a mansion : ' In my Father's house there are many man- 
sions,' John xiv. 2. This casual, that firm ; ' a kingdom that cannot bo 
shaken,' Hcb. xii. This troublesome, that full of rest. This assuredly short, 
that eternal. Happy is he that here esteems himself a pilgrim in a tent, that 
he may be hereafter a citizen in a stable kingdom ! 



2tJ PLAIN-DEALING. [SeEMON li. 

•> Their frugality should not pass unregarded. Here is no ambition of 
jm^t buildings" a tcnrwill serve. How differ our days and hearts from 
th....- • 'I'iic f;isliioa is now to build great houses to our lands, till we leave 
uo lands to our houses ; aud the credit of a good house is made, not to con- 
sist in inward hospitality, but in outward walls. These punkish outsides 
be"uilo the needy traveller : he thinks there cannot be so many rooms in a 
house, and never a one to harboiu: » poor stranger ; or that from such a 
multitude of chimneys no meat should be sent to the gates. Sucli a house 
is like A painted whore ; it hath a fair cheek, but rotten lungs ; no breath 
of charity comes out of it. We say, frustrajit pet- plura, quod fieri potest 
pa" pauciora. What needs a house, and more rooms, t'han there is use for ? 
A leas house, and more hospitableness, would do a great deal better. Are 
not laauy of these glorious buildings set up in the curse of Jericho ? the 
foundation laid in the blood of the eldest, the poor; the walls reared in the 
blood of the youngest, the ruin of their own posterity ? This was one of the 
travellers-observed faults in England, camini mali ; that we had ill clocks, 
and worse chiunieys, for they smoked no charity. 

^Vc see the precedent : the application must teach us to deal plainly. 
Here is commeuded to us plainness in meaning and in demeaning, which 
instructs us to a double concord and agreement, — in meaning, betwixt the 
heart and the tongue ; in demeaning, betwixt the tong-ue and the hand. 

In mmiiing, there .should be a loving and friendly agreement between the 
heart and the tongue. This is the mind's herald, and should only proclaim 
the sender's message. K the tongue be an ill servant to the heart, the heart 
will be an ill master to the tongue, and Satan to both. There are three 
kinds of dis.b emulation held tolerable, if not commendable; and beyond 
them, w me without sin : — 

1. When a man dissembles to get himself out of danger, without any 
prejudice to another. So David feigned himself mad, to escape with life, 
1 S;uiL XXL So the good physician may deceive his patient, by stealing 
upon him a potion which he abhorreth, intending his recovery. 

"2. When dissiuudation is directly aimed to the instruction and benefit of 
another. So Joscj)h caused the money to be put in his brethren's sacks, 
tlienliy to work in them a knowledge of themselves. So Christ, going to 
Eiuuiaus with the two disciples, made as if he would go further, to try theur 
humanity, Luke xxiv. 

3. When some common service is thereby performed to the good of the 
church. Such are those stratagems and policies of war, that carry in them 
a dire.-t iatentiun of honesty and justice, though of hostility; as Joshua's, 
whereby hu discomfited the men oi Ai, Josh. viii. 

Kurthor than these lunits no true Israelite, no plain-dealing man must 
venture, i'lato was of opinion that it was lawful for magistrates, hosiium vel 
ciDiuui c'liim menliri, to lie, either to deceive an enemy, or save a citizen.* I 
iniRht ag;iiiLst Plato set Aristotle, who saith expressly that ' a lie in itself is 
evil and wiekcd.'t And another philosopher was wont to say, that in two 
things a man w;w like unto Ciod, in bestowing benefits, and telling the truth.:{: 
Nor will wo iiiftr with Lyranus, because there is a title in the civil law. Be dolo 
malo, of cvU cnift, that therefore it is granted there is a cnift not evil. But let 
U8 know, t<i the terror of liars, that the devU is the f^ither of lying ; and ' when 
ho H|>cnkelh a lie, he speakcth of his own,' John viii. 44. And beyond ex- 
ccpliou tiiey are the words of everlasting verity, 'No lie is of the truth,' 
1 John u. 21. Therefore, into that heavenly Jerusalem shall enter none that 
• Lib. iii. «l„ Uo,.. t Ethic, 1. iv., c. 7. t Pythag. ex .Elian, lib. xii. 



GbN. XXV. 27. J PLAIN-DEALIXG, 29 

works abomination, or maketh a lie, Rev. xxi. 27. A lie must needs be 
contrary to the rule of grace, for it is contrary to the order of nature, which 
hath given a man voice and words to express the meaning of the heart. As 
in setting instruments, they refer all to one tune, so the heart is the gi'ound 
which all our instruments should go by. If there were no God to search the 
heart, he were a fool that would not dissemble ; since there is, he is a fool 
that doth. Therefore Job excellently, ' All the while my breath is in me, 
and the Spirit of God is in my nostrils, my lips shall not speak wickedness, 
nor my tongue utter deceit,' chaj). xxvii. 3. The sweetest Psahnist insiimates 
no less : ' My heart is inditing a good matter ; my tongue is the pen of a 
ready writer,' Ps. xlv. 1. When the heart is a good secretary, the tongue is 
a good pen ; but when the heart is a hollow l^ell, the tongue is a loud and a 
lewd clapper. Those undefiled virgins, admitted to follow the Lamb, have 
this praise, ' In their mouth was found no guile,' llev. xiv. 5. 

In demeaninr/, which is the good harmony betwixt the tongue and the 
hand. The righteous man, to whom God's celestial tabernacle is promised, 
' speaketh the truth in his heart ;' and when he hath sworn, though to his 
own hurt,' he chaugeth not, Ps. xv. 4. The paucity of these men makes the 
church of God so thin of saints, and the world so full of dissemblers. As 
the tongue must not speak false, so the hand must not do unjustly : in- 
justice is the greatest dissimidation. We live under Libra, justice and 
equity : who knows whether the nights or the days pass over his head 
more happily ] We fear not Tamils the bull, that shoots his horns from 
Rome ; nor Scorpio, that sends his venomous sting from Spain ; nor the un- 
christened Aries of infidels, profane and professed enemies to engine and 
batter our walls ; if the Sagittarius of heresy do not wound us in the reins, 
nor the Gemini of double-dealing circumvent us in our lives. The world is 
fuU of tricks. We will not do what we ought, yet defend what we do. 
How many spend their wits to justify their hands ! Through the unlucky 
and unnatural copulation of fraud and maUce was that monstrous stigniatic, 
equivocation, engendered : a damned egg, not covered by any fail* bird, but 
hatched, as poets feign of ospreys, with a thunder-clap. 

I will now only seek to win you to plain-dealing by the benefits it brings : 
the success to God : — 

1. The principal is to please God, whose displeasure against double-deal- 
ing the sad examples of Saul for the Amalekites, of Gehazi for the bribes, 
of Ananias for the inheritance, testify in their dcstraction. "WTiose delight 
in plain-dealing himself affirms : ' Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no 
guUe !' John i 17. 

2. The credit of a good name, wliich is a most worthy treasure, is thus 
preserved. The riches left thee by thy ancestors may miscarry through 
others' negligence ; the name not, save by thy own fault. It is the phiin- 
dealer's reward, his name shall be had in estimation ; whereas no faith is 
given to the dissembler, even speaking truth. Every man is more ready to 
trust the poor plain-dealer than the glittering falsc-tongued gallant. 

3. It prevents and infatuates all the malicious plots of enemies. God, in 
regard to thy simplicity, brings to nought all their machinations. Thou, 
O Lord, hadst respect to my simple pureness. An innocent fool takes fear- 
less steps, and walks as securely as if it stood girt with a wall of brass. 

4. It preserves thy state from ruin. When by subtlety men think to 
scrape together much wealth, all is but the spider's web, artificial and weak. 
What plain-dealing gets, .sticks by us, and infallibly derives itself to our 
posterity. Not only this man's own 'soul shall dwell at ease,' but also 'his 



30 PLAIN- DEAIJNG, [SeRIION 1 1. 

Bc«a shall inherit tlie earth,' Ps. xxv. 13. Wicked men labour with hands 
mul wit^ to undermine ajid undo many poor, and from their demolished 
heaps to erect themselves a gi'oat fortune ; but God blowcth upon it a no)t 
j>l,irf(; and then, as powder doth small shot, it scatters into the air, not 
without a great noise, and they are blown up. If thou wouldst be good to 
thyself and thine, use plaiimess 

'/). It shall somewhat keep thee from the troubles and vexations of the 
world. Others, when their double-dealing breaks out, are more troubled 
themselves than erst they troubled others; for shame waits at the beels 
of fraud, lint 'blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth,' 
Matt. V. 5. 

C. The curses of the poor shall never hurt thee. Though the causeless 
curse shall never come, yet it is happy for a man so to live that all may bless 
him. Now the plain man shall have this at last. Gallant prodigalit)'', like 
fire in flax, makes a great blaze, a hot show ; but plain hospitalit}^ like fire 
in solid wood, holds out to warm the poor, because God blesseth it. So I 
have .seen hot-spurs in the way gallop amain ; but the ivy-bushes have so 
stayed them, that the plain traveller comes first to his journey's end. 

7. It shall be thy best comfort on thy death-bed : consclentia bene ^jer- 
arttr vita; — the conscience of an innocent life. On this staff leans aged Samuel : 
'Whose ox or ass have I taken]' To whom have I by fraud or force done 
wrong] On this jiiUow doth sick Hczckiah lay his head: 'Remember, 
Lord, that I have walked before thee in truth, and with a perfect heart, and 
have done that which is good in thy sight,' Isa, xxxviii. 3. So Job solaceth 
himself : ' My heart shall not condemn me for my days.' When no clogs of 
usury with their heavy pressures, nor folds of injustice with their trouble- 
some vexations, disipiiet our peace-desiring sides, or lie upon our consciences; 
when thou hast no need to say to thine heir, Kestore this or that which I 
have frauilulontJy or unjustly taken away ; you see how false the proverb 
was, I'lain-dealing is a jewel, and he that useth it shall die a beggar. But 
it is well returned in the supplement, He that vidll not use it, shall die a dis- 
honest man. 

.8. Lastly, thou shalt find rest for thy soul. Thou hast dealt plainly ; so 
will God with thee, multiplying upon thee his promised mercies. If thoit 
hadst l)ecn hollow, not holy, fraudulent, not plain, thy portion had been 
bitter, even witli liyjx.critcs. IJiit now of a plahi saint on earth, thou shalt 
become a glorious saint in heaven. 



TIE SOLDIEE'S HONOUR. 

PREACHED TO THE WORTHY COMPANY OF GEXTLEMEN" THAT EXERCISE 
IN THE ARTILLERY G^VRDEN, 

A^'D NOW, ON THEIR SECOND REQUEST, PUBLISHED TO FURTHER USE. 



TO THE NOELE COMPANY OF THE GENTLEMEN EXERCISING ARMS IN THE 
ARTILLERY GARDEN OF LONDON. 

We are all soldiers, as we are Christians : some more specially, as they are 
men. You bear both spiritual arms against the enemies of your salvation, 
and material arms against the enemies of your countiy. In both you fight 
under the colours of our great general, Jesus Christ. By looking a little into 
thk mystical war, you shall the better understand to be viilites cataphradi, 
good soldiers in all respects. 

Job calls man's life a warfare, and we find, Rev. xii., that ' there was war 
in heaven : ^Michael and his angels fought against the dragon ; and the dragon 
fought and his angels.' Where by heaven is meant the church of God upon 
earth, as intcqjreters observe generally. For in heaven above there is no 
warfare, but welfare; no trouble, but peace that passeth all understanding.' 
Now, to this war every Christian is a professed soldier, not only for a spurt 
for sport, as young gentlemen use for a time to see the fashion of the wars, 
but our vow runs thus in baptism, that every man undertakes to fight man- 
fully under Christ's banner against sin, the world, and the devil, and to 
continue his faithful soldier and servant to his life's end. And this battle 
let us fight with courage, because we are warriors under that general that 
Avithout question shall conquer, ^"'il desperandum Chrisio duce, d auspice 
Christo. ' They overcome by the blood of the Lamb,' Rev. xii. 1 1. Though 
they lose some blood, they shall be sure to win the victory. 

Bernard supposeth a great war between Christ, the king of Jerusalem, and 
Satan, the king of Babylon. The watchman on the walls sees a Christian 
soldier to be surprised by the Babylonian host, and carried ca^jtive to their 



THE soldiek's hoxoue. [Seemon III. 

toiiU. Hereof ho informs the king, who presently chargeth Timorem, the 
Fear of God, to run and redeem the soldier. Fear comes thundering upon 
the adversary power, and forceth tliem trcmbUng to surrender back their 
prvy, which he is now returning home to the king. Hereupon steps up 
Spintus Tristititp, Sadness, and cries, ye Babylonians, is it not a shame 
that one man should rescue a prisoner from such a multitude 1 Well, ne 
timealU a Timore isto,—Be not afraid of this feUow, Fear; I will give you a 
rttrataijem how to reduce him. This must not be done marte sed arte, — not 
by force but by fraud. Mark the event. 

Tliis spirit I'f Sadness lies hi the way, and falls in with the soldier, col- 
loguing a-s a friend, as a fiend; a7nica sed iniqua colloaitione. Suspectless 
Fear follows a little off. But Sorrow had brought the soldier to the brink 
♦»f a deep pit, Desperation, and was even upon the point of thrusting him in. 
The watchman observes it, and again tells the king, who, quicker than 
thought, despatcheth a fresh supply of succour, Hope, to his delivery. Hope, 
nunuited upon a swift horse, Desire, conies anmin, and with the sword of 
Gladness puts Sorrow to flight ; so qixits him from the gailf of Despair. Once 
again is the citizen of heaven freed. Now Hope sets him, being weary, upon 
Ids u\\'n horse, Desire : himself leads him with the cord of Promised Jlercy : 
Fear comes after with a switch made of Remembrance of Sins, and so sets 
him forward to Jerusalem. 

Hereupon the king of Babylon calls a council ; where some grieve, others 
rage, all hell roars, that they have lost a prisoner of whom they lately thought 
themselves so sure. There is not more joy with the angels in heaven than 
tlicrc is sorrow with the devils in hell for this sinner's conversion. But yet 
all is not well, as the watchman certifies the king of Omnipotence. The 
srddier is mounted upon Desire, Hope leads him, and Fear drives him amain : 
but I doubt he comes too fast, because he hath neither bridle nor saddle. 
Hexcon tlic king, that hath everlasting care of all Christian sovds, sends forth 
two of his grave councillors to him. Temperance and Prudence. Temperance 
gives lum a bridle, that is Discretion ; Prudence a saddle, that is Circumspec- 
tion. This is not all : Fear and Hope give him two spurs— on the left heel. 
Fear of Punishment ; on the right. Expectation of Bliss. Knowledge clears his 
eye, Diligence opens his ear. Obedience strengthens his hand, Devotion recti- 
fies his foot, Faith encourageth his heart. And if he want anything, Prayer 
offers him her service, to wait upon him as a faithful messenger, promising 
that whensoever he sends her to the king with a petition, she will bring him 
back a Ijcncfliction. 

TI1U.H aa in a little tablet you sec the whole worid; that all of us must be 
Holdiers on earth militant that will be conquerors in heaven triumphant. But 
arc there not enemies in the flesh so weU as enemies in the spirit ? Is mystical 
armour only nc<5c.s.sary to a Christian, and is there no use of material 1 No ; 
.E'jmim ext Deiim UUm esse propilium, <jui sibi non sunt advermrii,~lt is just 
that G.k1 8lu)nld be a friend to them that are not enemies to themselves. I 
know prnycrH arc good weapons ; and, Exod. xvii., there was more speed made 
to ^^cto^)• by lifting up of Moses's hands than of Joshua's sword. He that 



Judges V. 8, 9.] tue epistle dedicatory. 33 

would overcome Ms enemies on earth, must first previoil with his best friend in 
heaven. If the mercy and strength of God be made thine by prayer, fear not 
the adverse powers; Horn, viii., we shall be conquerors througli him that loved 
us. But is it enough to bond the knee without stirring the hand I Shall war 
march against us -with, thundering steps, and shall we only assemble ourselves 
in the temples, lie prostrate on the pavements, lift up our hands and eyes to 
heaven, and not our weapons against our enemies 1 Shall we beat the air 
with our voices, and not their bosoms with our swords? Only knock our 
own breasts, and not knock their heads 1 Sure, a religious conscience never 
taught a man to neglect his life, his liberty, his estate, his peace. Piety and 
policy are not opposites : he that taught us to be harmless as doves, bade us 
also be Avise as serpents. Give way to a fiction ; fables are not without their 
useful morals. A boy was molested with a dog ; the friar taught him to say 
a gospel by heart, and warranted this to allay the dog's fury. The mastiff, 
sp}dng the boy, flies at him ; he begins, as it were, to conjure him with his 
gospel The dog, not capable of religion, approacheth more violently. A 
neighbour passing by bids the boy take up a stone ; he did so, and throw- 
ing at the dog, escaped. The friar demands of the lad how he sped with 
his charm. ' Sir,' quoth he, ' your gospel was good, but a stone with the 
gospel did the deed.' The curs of Antichrist are not afraid of our gospel, 
but of our stones : let U5 fight and they will fly. 

Fight, say you ; why, who strikes us ? Yield that no enemies do, are 
we sure that none will do 1 When our security hath made us weak, and 
tieir policy hath made them strong, we shall find them, like that trouble- 
some neighbour, knocking at our door early in the morning, before we are 
up, when it will be too late for us to say, If we had known of your coming, 
we would have provided better cheer for you. They thank you, they will 
take now such as they find, for they purpose to be their own carvers, and the 
morsels they swallow shall be your hearts. Let us therefore, Like good 
housekeepers, when such unbidden guests come, have always a breakfast 
ready for them : which if we give them heartily, they shall have small sto- 
mach to their dinners. 

Be you but ready for war, and I durst warrant your peace. AVhUst you 
are dissolute, they grow resolute. Ludovicus Vives reports, that the young 
nobles and gallants in a city of Spain were fallen to such levity of carriage, 
that, instead of marching to the sound of a drum, they were dancing levaltos 
to a lute in a lady's chamber : their beavers were turned to beaver hats. 
Every one had his mistress, and spent his time in courting Venus ; but Mars 
was shut out at the back gate. The ancient magistrates observuag this, con- 
sulted what should become of that country^, which these men must govern 
after they were dead. Hereupon they conferred with the women, their 
daughters, the ladies ; whom they instructed to forbear their wonted favours, 
to despise the fantastical amorists, and to afibrd no grace to them that had 
no grace in themselves. This they obeyed diligently, and it wrought so 
efi'ectually that the gentlemen soon began to spy some diff"erence betwixt 
effeminateness and nobleness ; and at last in honourable and serviceable de- 
VOL. I. c 



34 THK soldier's noxouE. [Sermon III. 

signs excelled aU their ancestors. If we had in England such ladies, (though 
I do not wish them from Spain,) we should have such lords. Honour 
should go by the banner, not by the barn ; and reputation be valued by 
valour, not measured by the acre : there woidd be no ambition to be carpet- 
knights. 

How necessary the readiness of arms, and of men practised to those arms, 
hath been to the common good, what nation hath not found, either in the 
habit • to their safety, or in the privation to their ruin 1 Only we bless 
ourselves in our peace, and say to them that advise us to military pre- 
parations, as the devils said to Christ, that we come to torment them before 
their time. But let them rest that thus wUl rust; and for yourselves, 
worthy gentlemen, keep your arms bright, and thereby your names, your 
nrtues, your souls : you shall be honoured in good men's hearts, whilst 
wanton and effeminate gulls shall weave and wear their own disgraces. 
.S/)ernUe vos sperni : there are none that think basely of you whose bosoms 
are acquainted with other than ignoble thoughts. But I have held you too 
long in the gates, unless I could promise you the sight of a better city. Yet 
enter in, and ^iew it ^vith your eyes : it hath already entered your ears ; 
God grant it may enter all your hearts ! So yourselves shall be renowned, 
our peace secured, and the Lord's great name glorified, through Jesus Christ. 

Yours to be commanded in all Christian services, 

THO. ADAMS. 
* i. e., Haviug.— Ed, 



THE SOLDIER'S HONOUR 



They chose new gods ; then tvas war in the gates: was there a shield o^ spear 
seen among forty thousand in Isratl ? My heart is toward the governors 
of Israel^ that offered themselves ivillingly among the people. Bless ye 
the Lord. — Judges V. 8, 9. 

It was a custom in the heathen "world after victory to sing songs of 
triumph. 

This foshion was first observed among the Jews, as we frequently find it. 
After a gi-eat conquest of the Philistines, the people of Israel sung, ' Saul 
hath slain his thousand, and David his ten thousand.' When Joshua had 
overthrown those five kings, — at whose prayer the sun stood stUl, and the 
day was made longer than ever the world saw before or since, — the people 
sung, ' The sun stood still in Gibeon, and the moon in the valley of Ajalon,' 
Josh. X. 12. When Israel had crossed the Red Sea with dry feet, and the 
returning Avaters had drowned their pursuing enemies, Moses and the people 
sung this song, ' The Lord is a man of war ; the Lord is his name,' (fcc, 
Exod. XV. 3. Here Deborah having conquered Sisera, with his nine hun- 
dred chariots of iron, she sung this triumphant song to the Lord : ' Praise 
ye the Lord for the avenging of Israel ! ' Hear, O ye kings, I will sing to 
the Lord.' 

I have chosen two strains of this song, from which, as they shall teach . 
me, so I purpose to teach you, to bless the Lord that teacheth us all. So 
the Psalmist: 'It is the Lord that teacheth our hands to war, and our 
fingers to fight.' The Lord give me a tongue to sing it, and you ears to hear 
it, and us all hearts to embrace it ! 

In all I observe two generals, which express the nature of the two verses. 
There is great aj/lidion and great affection. 

The affliction : ' They chose new gods ; then was war in the gates,' &c. 
The affection : ' My heart is toward the governors of Israel, that oifered them- 
selves willingly among the people. Bless ye the Lord.' In the affliction, 
methinks I find three points of war : — 
I. The alarm : ' Tiiey chose new gods.' 
II. The battle : ' Then was war in the gates.' 

III. The forlorn hope : ' Was there a shield or spear scon among forty 
thousand in Israel?' 

Here is, (1.) siipej'stUio popidi, the apostasy of the people : 'They chose 



gg THE soldier's honouk. [Seemon III. 

new cods ' This I caU the alarm ; for impietas ad arma womf,— ungodliness 
calls to war. If we fight against God, we provoke God to fight against us. 
Then (2) injlidio belli, a laying on of punishment. God meets their 
abomination with desolation ; the hand of justice against the hands of un- 
riL'htoousness : ' Then was war in the gates.' This I call the battle. Then, 
(3 ) defedus remedii, a destitution of remedy : ' Was there a shield or spear 
Len among forty thousand in Israel ? ' Sin had not only brought war, but 
taken away defence; in prcelia trudit inei-mes, — sent them unarmed to fight. 
And this I call the forlorn hope. You see the particulars : now ordine 
quidqne suo. 

I. The Alarm : 'They chose new gods.' Their idolatry may be aggra- 
vated by three circumstances or degrees. They are all declining and down- 
wards : tliere is malum, pejus, pessimum, — evil, worse, and worst of all. 

1. 'They chose.' Here is electio, non compulsio, — a frank choice, no 
compelling. They voluntarily took to themselves, and betook themselves to, 
other gods. Naaman begged mercy for a sin, to which he seems enforced, 
if he would reserve the favour of his king and peace of his estate; and 
therefore cried, ' Be merciful to me in this : when I bow with my master in 
the house of Rimmon, in this the Lord pardon me,' 2 Kings v. 18. But 
here is spontanea malitia, a wilful wickedness : ' they chose.' There is evil, 
the first degree. 

2. ' Gods.' What ! a people trained up in the knowledge of one God : 
' Jehovah, I am ; and there is none besides me.' Unissimus, saith Bernard, si 
non est unus, non est, — If he be not one, he is none. The bees have but one 
king, flocks and herds but one leader, the sky but one sun, the world but 
one God. 

' Immensus Deus est, quia scilicet omnia mensus : 
Innumerabilis eat, unus enim Deus est,' 

Kiys the Epigrammatist. God is therefore innumerable, because he is but 
one. It was for the heathen, that had, saith Augustine, mentes amentes, in- 
toxicate minds and reprobate hearts, to have plurimos dees, a multitude of 
gods. They had gods of the water, gods of the wind, gods of the corn, gods 
of"the fruits ; nee omnia commemoro, quia me piget, quod illos non pudet, — 
neither do I mention all, because it grieves me to speak what they were not 
ashamed to do. Prudentius says, they had so many things for their gods as 
there were things that were good. 

' Quicquid humus, pelagus, caelum mirabile gignunt, 
Id duxere deos, collea, freta, flumina, flammas.' 

Insomuch that rroXudicTrji aOiorrn. But Israel knew that unions Deus, there 
was but one God ; that others were dii titulares, gods in name : theirs only 
Deus tulelaris, God in power. ' Their rock is not as our Rock, even our 
enemies tlieniselvcs being judges,' Deut. xxxii. 31. Do these bring other 
gods in conipetilion with hhu ? Pejus, this is worse. 

.'{. ' New gods.' Will any nation change their gods? No ; the Ekronites 
will keep their god, though it be Beelzebub ; the Ammonites will keep their 
god, though it be Melchom; the Spians will stick to their god, though it 
be Kimnion ; the riiilistines will not part with their god, though it be 
Dagon. And .shall I.siacI change Jehovah, viventeni Deum, the living God? 
I'f»»imum, thi.s i.s worst of all. 

The.sc be the wretched degrees of Israel's sin : God keep England from 
Buch apo.stasy ! We have one God : let the llomists choose them another ; 
m the canonists Btyle their Tope, Dominus Deus nosier Fapa,—0\XT Lord God 



Judges V. 8, 9.] the soldiers hoxouu. 37 

the Pope. But we have * one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and 
Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in us all,' Eph. iv. 6. 
We have one God in profession ; this God grant that we have but one in 
affection ! But unum colimus ore, vixiUos corde, — we worship one with our 
mouths, many in our hearts. Tot sunt nostrce deitates, quot cupiditates, — we 
have so many gods as we have lusts. Honour is the ambitious man's god ; 
pleasure the voluptuous man's god ; riches the covetous man's god. II(Bg 
tria pro trino numine viundus Jiabet, — This is the trhiity the world worships. 
These three tyrants, like those three Romans, C*sar, Crassus, and Pompey, 
have shared the world between them, and left God least, that owns all. 

The people of Israel, when they had turned beast, and calved an idol, cried 
in triumph, ' These are thy gods, O Israel,' Exod. xxxii. 4. So we may 
speak it, with horror and amazement of soul, of these three idols : These are 
thy gods, England. ' The idols of the heathen were silver and gold,' saith 
the Psalmist. It is but inverting the sentence : mutctto nomine tios sumus 
fabida, — change but the names, and we arc the subject of whom the tale is 
told. Their idols were silver and gold ; and silver and gold are our idols. 
He that railed on Beelzebub, pulled all Ekron about his ears ; he that slighted 
IMelchom, provoked the i\jnmonites. But he that condemns Mammon, speaks 
against all the world. 

But if God be our God, mammon must be our slave ; for he that is the 
lervant of God must be the master of his money. If God be our king, he 
must be our king only ; for the bed and the throne brook no rivals. When 
the soldiers had chosen Valentinian emperor, they were consulting to join 
with him a partner. To whom Valentinian replied : ' It was in your power 
to give me the empire when I had it not ; now I have it, it is not in your 
power to give me a partner.' God must be our God alone. J^quum est deos 
Jin ff ere, ac Deiim neyare, — It is aU one to choose new gods, and to deny the 
true God. If therefore we will have novum deum, a new god, we shall have 
tiulhan Deum, no God. No, let the heathen choose new gods; thou, O 
Father of mercy, and Lord of heaven and earth, be our God for ever ! — This 
is the alarm. 

II. We come now to the Battle : ' Then was war in the gates.' If Israel 
give God an alarm of wickedness, God will give them a battle of desolation. 
Idolatry is an extreme impiety ; therefore against it the gate of heaven is 
barred. ' Know ye not, that no idolater shall inherit the kingdom of God V 
1 Cor. vi. 9. The idolater Avould thrust God out of his throne, therefore 
good reason that God should thrust him out of his kingdom. The punish- 
ment is also extreme, and hath in it a great portion of misery ; though not 
a proportion answerable to the miquity, for it deserves not only war and 
slaughter in the gates of earth, but eternal death in the gates of hell. But 
not to extend the punishment beyond the projjosed limits, let us view it as 
it is described. And we shall find it aggravated by three circumstances : — 

1. Analura: 'War.' There is the nature of it. 

2. A tempore: 'Then.' There is the time of it. 

3. A loco : ' In the gates.' There is the place of it. 

There is quid, quando, ubi, — what, when, and where. War, that is the quid. 
Then, that is the quando. In the gates, that is the ubi. ' Then was war in 
the gates.' 

1. The nature of it; what? 'War.' War is that miserable desolation 
that finds a land before it like Eden, and leaves it behind it like Sodom and 
Gomorrah, a desolate and forsaken wilderness. Let it be sowed with the 
seed of man and beast, as a field with wheat, war will eat it up. Sellumf 



TOE SOLPTKn's HOICOUR. [SeRMON III. 

quasi minime helium ; or rather in vicinity to the name, mos helluarmn. For 
men. solummodo Jiutum, qtiibtts necessarium, — not just, but Avhen it is neces- 
sary ami cannot well bo avoided. Not to be waged by a Christian without 
ol»»or%ation of St Augustine's rule : Esto hellando pacijicus, — In war seek 
peace ; though thy hand be bloody, let thy heart be peaceable. Facem debet 
habtre voluntas, bellum necessitas, — Let necessity put war into the hands, re- 
ligion keep peace in the heart In itself it is a miserable punishment. This 
is the nature ; what i 

2. The time, or qiiando ? ' Then.' When was this war ? Tempore idolo- 
latiice, in the time of idolatry. ' They chose new gods ; then.' ^Vhen we 
fight against God, we incense him to tight against us. Indeed we have all 
stricken him ; which of us hath not ofiered blows to that .sacred Deity ? 
Our oaths proffer new wounds to the sides of Jesus Christ ; and our merci- 
Ica oj.prcssions persecute him through the bowels of the poor : ' Saul, Saul, 
why persecutest thou me V Acts ix. 4. Saul strikes upon earth, Jesus Christ 
suffers in heaven. Yet if timely repentance step in, we escape his blows, 
though he hath not escaped ours. He is ready to say, as Cato to the man 
that hurt him in the bath, (when in sorrow he asked him forgiveness,) Non 
viemini me percussiim, — I do not remember that I was stricken. 

But if Israel's sins strike up alarm, Israel's God wUl give battle. If they 
choose new gods, the true God wUl punish. ' Then was war.' 

It is a fearful thing when God fights. "When he took off the chariot- 
wheels of the Egyptians, they cried, ' Let us flee from the face of Israel, for 
the Lord fighteth for them against the Egyptians,' Exod. xiv. 25. The 
heathen gods could not defend their friends, nor subdue their enemies, nor 
avenge themselves. 

' Mar3 ultor galeam quoque perdidit, et res 
Non potuit servare suas ; ' — 

Their stout god of war might lose his helmet, his target, the victory ; un- 
able to deliver himself But God is the Lord of hosts. ' God hath spoken 
once; twice have I heard this, that power belongeth unto God.' Once, 
twice, yea, a thousand times, have we heard it, read it, seen it, that God is 
powerful. Tiiat, as Augustine, Verba Mies inculcata, vera sunt, viva sunt, 
Sana sunt, plana sunt, — Things so often repeated and pressed must needs 
be plain and peremptory. God hath soldiers in heaven, soldiers on earth, 
soldiers in hell, that fight under his press. So that he hath mille nocendi 
artes, — a thousand ways to avenge himself 

In heaven he hath armies : of /;-e to burn Sodom ; o^ floods to drown a 
wi.rld ; of hailstones to kill the Amorites ; of stars, as here Deborah sings : 
' 'I hey fought from heaven ; the stars in their courses fought against Sisera,' 
vcr. L'O. And whilst Lsrael slew their enemies, at their general's prayer ' the 
sun stwd still in Gibeon, and the moon in the valley of Ajalon,' Josh. xL 
\ ea, there are heavenly soldiers : Luke ii., ' Suddenly there was with the 
angel a multitude ot the heavenly host.' One of these celestial soldiers slew 
u. one ni,-ht above a hundred thou.sand Assyrians, 2 Kings xix. 35. 

Ik-low hr. hath seas t(j drown Pharaoh ; sivallows of the earth to devour 
Korah With fierce lums, fell dragons, hisshig serpents, crawling worms, he 
<iiii .suixlue the ]>roude.st rebels. 

In hell he hatli a.i army oi fiends, though bound in chains that they shall 
not hurt the faithful, yet let loose to terrify the wicked. There was an evil 
spirit to vex baul ; foul spirits in the gospel made some deaf, others dumb, 
and cast many into firo and into waters. 



Judges V. 8, 9.] the soldier's huxour. 39 

Thus stands the wicked man environed with enemies. God and man, 
angels and de\'ils, heaven and earth, birds and beasts, otliers and himself, 
maintain this war against himself. God may be patient a 'tong time ; but 
Icesa patientiafit furor, — patience too much wronged becomes rage; and 
furor arma ministrat, — -vvi-ath will quickly afford weapons. 

' Serior esse solet vindicta severior,' — 

The sorest vengeance is that which is long in coming ; and the fire of indig- 
nation burns the hotter, because God hath been cool and tardy in the exe- 
cution. Impiety and impunity are not sworn sisters ; but if wickedness beat 
the drum, destruction will begui to march. The ruined monuments and 
monasteries in some provinces seem to tell the passengers, Uicfuit hostilitas, 
— War hath been here. We may also read in those rude heaps, Hicfuit ini- 
quitas, — Sin hath been here. It was idolatry rather than war that pulled 
down those walls. If there had been no enemy to rase them, they should 
have fallen alone, rather than hide so much superstition and impiety under 
their guilty roofs. In chap. x. 6 of this book, when the Israelites ' served 
Baalim and Ashtaroth, the gods of Syria, and the gods of Zidon, then was 
the anger of the Lord hot against them ; and he sold them into the hands of 
the Philistines, and mto the hands of the children of Amnion.' Tlien those 
enemies destroyed their cities, and depopulated their countries, making them 
spectacles of cruelty and justice, — cruelty of man, justice of God. This is 
the time, when. 

3. The place, or uhi. ' In the gates.' This is an extreme progress of war, to 
come so near as the gates. If it had been hi terra inimiconLtn, — in the land 
of their enemies, a preparation of war a great way off; sonus hosiilitatis, — 
the noise of war. As Jer. vi., ' Behold, a people cometh from the north, a 
nation shall be raised from the sides of the earth. Their voice roareth like 
the sea;' and 'we have heard the fame thereof.' Here is war, but coming, 
raising, roaring ; audivimus tantuvi, — we have only heard the noise of it. 
Yea, if it had come but to the coasts, and invaded the borders, as the Phi- 
listines did often forage the skirts of Israel, yet it had been somewhat toler- 
able, for then vidimus tantum, — we have but seen it only. Ostendisti populo 
r/ravia, — ' Thou hast shewn thy people grievous things,' Ps. Ix. 3 ; shewed, 
but not inflicted ; shaken the rod, but not scourged us. But here venit ad 
liniina helium, — war is come to their thresholds, yea, to the heart of the 
laud, to defy them in the very gates. And now they more than hear or see 
it ; sentiunt, they feel it. 

The gates in Israel were those places where they sat in justice, as we may 
frequently read, ' They gave judgment in the gates.' They distributed the 
corn in the gates, where that unbelieving prince was trodden to death, 2 
Kings viL 17. And Absalom sat in the gates, and said to every man that 
had a controversy, ' See, thy matters are good and right ; but here is no man 
deputed of the king to hear thee,' 2 Sam. xv, 3. So that pads loca helium, 
occupat, — war possesseth the places of peace, and thrusts her out of her 
wonted residence and presidence, the gates, ' In the gates :' war is not then in 
the right uhi, as they said of Pope Sixtus, because he delighted in bloody 
wars, that he ill became the seat of peace, according to that epitaph on him : — 

* Non potuit Bjevum vis uUa extinguere Sixtiim, 
Audito tandem nomine pacia obit,' — 

No war could kill Sixtus ; but so soon as ever he heard of peace, he pre- 
sently died. War is got very far when it possesseth the gates. 



^Q TUE soldier's uonoub. [Sebmon hi. 

You now SCO the punishment. Happy are we that cannot judge the ter- 
rors of war but by report and hearsay ! that never saw our towns and cities 
buniin.' our houses rifled, our temples spoiled, our wives ravished, our chil- 
dren bleeding dead on the pavements, or sprawling on the merciless pikes ! 
We nr-ver heard the gi'oans of our own dying and the clamours of our ene- 
mies insulting cnfusecUy sounding in our distracted ears ; the ^vife breathing 
out her life in the arms of her husband, the children snatched from the 
breasts of their mothers, as by the terror of their slaughters to aggi-avate 
their own ensuing torments. We have been strangers to this misery m pas- 
sion, let us not be so in compassion. Let us think we have seen these cala- 
mities with our ncigiibours' eyes, and felt them through their sides. 

When /ICneas Sylvius reports of the fall of Constantinople, the murdering 
of children before the parents' eyes, the nobles slaughtered like beasts, the 
priests torn in pieces, the holy virgins savagely abused, he cries out, mise- 
rtim uvbis faciem ! — wretched face of a city ! Many of our neighbours 
h.ive been whirled about in these bh)ody tumults ; they have heard the dis- 
mal crios of cruel adversaries. Kill, kill ; the shrieks of women and infants, 
the thunders of those murdering pieces in their ears, their cities and temples 
flaming before their eyes, the streets swimming with blood, when 

' Permisti caede virorum 
Semianimes volvuntur equi,' — * 

men and horses confusedly wallowing in their mingled bloods. 

Only to us the iron gates of war have been shut up. We sit and sing 
under our own fig-trees ; we drink the wine of our own vineyards, * There 
i.s no breaking in, nor going out ; no complaining in our streets,' Ps. cxliv. 14. 
We have the peace of God ; let us be thankful to the God of peace. But it 
is good to be merry and wise. Let. not our peace make us secure. The 
Jews in their great feast had some malefactor brought forth to them. Matt. 
xxvil 1.5 ; so let it be one good part of our solemnity to bring forth that 
malefactor, !^ecurity, a rust grown over our souls in this time of peace, and 
send him packing. We have not the blessings of God by entail or by lease, 
but hold all at the good-will of our landlord ; and that is but during our 
good behaviour. We have not so many blessings but we may easily forfeit 
them by disobedience. ^Vhen we most feared war, God sent peace ; now we 
most brag of peace, God prevent war ! 

L)o our sins give an alarm to Heaven, and shall not Heaven denounce war 
against us 1 Nulla pax impiis, — ' There is no peace to the wicked, saith my 
Ofxl,' Isa. xlviii. 22. Joram said, ' Is it peace, Jehu ? But he answered, 
What peace, so long as the whoredoms of thy mother Jezebel and her witch- 
crafts are so many V 2 Kings be. 22. They arc our sins that threaten to 
lose ua our best friend, God ; and if God be not our friend, we must look for 
Btorc of enemies. Our great iniquities hearten our adversaries ; they profess 
to build idl their wickedness against us upon our wickedness against God. 
If they did not see us choose new gods, they would never have hope to bring 
war to our gates. If we could i)revail against our own evils, we should pre- 
v.'id agamst all our enemies. The powers of Komc, the powers of hell, should 
Tint hurt us, if wo did not hurt oiu-selvcs. Let us cast down our Jezebels 
that W-witch us, those lusts whereby we run ivwhoring after other gods, and 
then jKu-wu. Hhall .stand sentinc I in our turrets. God shall then ' strengthen 
the Kira of our gates, and establish peace in our borders,' Ps. cxlvii. 13. Let 
m, accurduig to that sweet singer's doctrine, Ps. xxxiv. 14, ' depart from 
• .^ucid, xi. 



Judges V. 8, 9.] the soldier's honour. 41 

evil, and do good ; then seek peace, and pursue it.' Yea, do well, and thou 
shalt not need to pursue it ; peace will find thee without seeking. Augustine 
says, Fiat jiistitia, et hahehis pacem, — Live righteously, and live peaceably. 
Quietness shall find out righteousness, wheresoever he lodgeth. But she abhor- 
reth the house of evil. Peace will not dine where grace hath not first broken 
her fast. Let us embrace godliness, and ' the peace of God, that passeth all 
understanding, shaU preserve our hearts and minds in Jesus Christ,' Phil, 
iv. 7. The Lord fix all our hearts upon himself, that neither ourselves, nor 
our children after us, nor their generations, so long as the sun and moon 
endureth, may ever see war in the gates of England ! — Thus we have run 
through the battle, and considered the terrors of a bloody war. 

III. We now come to the Forlorn Hope : 'Was there a shield or spear seen 
among forty thousand in Israel V Was there 1 There was not. This ques- 
tion is a plain negative. Here is defectus remedii, — the want of help ; great 
misery, but no remedy ; not a spear to offend, no, not a shield to defend. 
War, and war in the gates, and yet neither offensive nor defensive weapon ! 
Miserrima privatio, quce omnem tollit ad habitum rejressum. It takes away all, 
both present possession and future possibility ; )-e7n et spem, — help and hope. 

But suppose that only some one company had wanted, yet if the rest of 
the forces had been armed, there were some comfort. No, not a shield nor 
spear among many, among thousands, among many thousands, among forty 
thousand. A host of men, and not a weapon ! Grievous exigent ! If it 
had been any defect but of armour, or in any other time but the time of war, 
or only in one city of Israel, and not in all. But is there war, and war in 
the gates, and do many, even thousands, want ? What ? armour enough 1 So 
they might easily. Nay, but one shield, one spear 1 Miserable calamity ! 

They were in great distress under the reign of Saul, 1 Sam. xiii. 22, ' The 
spoilers came out of the camp of the Philistines in three companies,' &c. ; 
yet ' it came to pass in the day of battle, that there was neither sword nor 
spear found in the hand of any of the people that were with Saul and Jona- 
than : but with Said, and with Jonathan his son, was there found.' Here 
was a great want ; three bands of the enemies, and but two swords : yet 
there were then two ; and it so pleased God that those two were enougL As 
the Apostle said to Christ, Luke xxii. 38, Ecce duo gladii, — ' Master, here 
are two swords ; and he answered. It is enough.' But two swords for so 
many, and against so many ; a word of great misery. But God saith. Satis 
est, — Those two are enough ; a word of great mercy. He can give victory with 
two swords, with one sword, -svith no sword ; and so he did here, that con- 
vinced Israel might see it was the Lord that fought for them, and so be 
moved to bless the Lord. 

You see now all the parts of the affliction : the alarm in sin, the battle in 
war, and the forlorn hope in the want of remedy. Two useful observations 
may hence be deduced : — 

1. That war at some times is just and necessary ; indeed, just when it is 
necessary : as here. For shall it come to the gates, and shall we not meet 
it 1 Yea, shall we not meet it before it come near the gates ? There is, 
then, a season when war is good and lawful. St Augustine observes that 
when the soldiers, among the rest of the people, came to John the Baptist 
to be catechised, 'What shall we do ?' he did not bid them leave off being 
soldiers, but taught them to be good soldiers. ' Do violence to no man, 
neither accuse any ftdsely ; and be content with your wages,' Luke iii. 14. 
Milites instritit, militare non prohibet, — he directs them to be good men, not 
forbids them to be warlike men. 



^2 THE soldier's honouk. [Seemon III. 

God himself is termed * a man of war,' Exod. xv. 3 ; and he threatens war : 
'The Ix.rd hath sworn that he will have war with Amalek from generation 
to generation,' Exod. xvii. 16. :Many of the Philistines, Canaanites, and 
Sidonians were left to teach Israel war, Judges iii. 2. L uxuriant animi rebus 
pUrunviue secundig,— Too much warmth of prosperity hatcheth up luxury. 
There must be some exercise, lest men's spirits grow rust)'. 

• TLo standing water tiirns to putrefaction, 
And virtue is no virtue but in action,' 

sings the divine poet. Idleness doth neither get nor save, but lose. If 
exercise be good, those are best which tend to most good. The exercises of 
war step in here to challenge their deserved praise. As with wooden was- 
ters nu'ii learn to pky at the sharp ; so practice in times of peace makes 
reaily for the time of war. It is good to be doing, that when Satan comes, 
inv^iiai occupatum, — he may find thee honestly busied. The bird so long 
as she is upon wing, flying in the air, is safe from the fowler ; but when 
she sits lazy on a tree, pruning her feathers, a little shot quickly fetcheth 
her down. So long as we arc well exercised, the devil hath not so fair 
a mark of us ; but idle, we lie prostrate objects to all the shot of his temp- 
tations. Now there are two cautions observable in the justness of wars : — 
(1.) That they be undertaken justa causa, upon just and warrantable cause. 
(lV) That they be prosecuted bono anbno, with an honest mind. 
(1.) The cause must be just. For, — 

' Frangit et attollit vires in milite causa,' — 

The cause doth either encourage or discourage the soldier; indeed, it makes 
or mars all. This just cause is threefold ; well comprised in that verse — 

' Pax populi, patriseque salus, et gloria regni,' — 

The peace of the people, the health of the country, and the glory of the 
kingdom. 

[1.] The peace of the people ; for we must aim by war to make way for 
peaec. We must not desire tnice to this end, that we may gather force for 
an unjust war ; but we desire a just war that we may settle a true peace. 
So Joab heartened his brother Abishai, and the choice men of Israel, against 
the Syrians : ' Be of good courage, and let us play the men for our people, 
aiul for the cities of our God,' 2 Sam. x. 12. 

[2.] The health and safety of our country : pericUtantur aliqui, ne pere- 
ant omites,^-som<i must be endangered that all may not be destroyed. And 
I would here that the dull and heavy spirits of our rotten worldlings would 
con.sidcr qitorurn causa, for whose sake these worthy men spare neither 
their |)aiiis nor their purses in this noble exercise. Even for theirs ; theirs, 
and their cliildrcn's, tliut so contemptibly judge of them. 

If war sIk.uUI be in the gates, whither would you run for defence, when 
shroud yourselves, but under their colours which you have despised 1 AVh( 
sljould keep the usurer's money from pillaging ? all his obligations, mort- 
Kages, and statutes from burning] Who should keep the foggy epicure in 
)u» soft chair after a full meal fa.st asleep 1 Who should maintain the nice 
lady in her carriage whirling through the popular streets ? Who should re- 
iM-rvo tho.so .lelioato parloun and adorned chambers from fire and flames? 
\\\ui should wivo virgins from ravishment, children from famishment, 
niolhcrs from astonishment, city and country, temples and palaces, traffics 
an<l markets, ships and shops, Westminster Hall and the Exchange, two of 



Judges V. 8, 9.] the soldier's HOXOtiE. 43 

the richest acres of ground in England, from ploughing up ; from having it 
said, Jam seges uhi Trojafait, — Com groweth where London stood, — all from 
v\m\ ? Who but the soldier under God 1 * The sword of God, and the sword 
of Gideon,' Judges \\x. 1 8. 

[3.] The glory of the kingdom ; and that is evangelium Ghiisti, the 
gospel of Jesus Christ. Wars for God are called God's battles. The de- 
struction of their cities that revolt from God to idols, and the whole spoil, is 
for the Lord ; it is the Lord's battle and the Lord's spoil, Deut. xiii. 1 6. 
Saul thus encourageth David to war, ' Be thou valiant for me, and fight the 
Lord's battles,' 1 Sam. xviii. 17. The most and best warriors were called 
the sons of God. So Abraham, ]Moses, David, Joshua, Gideon. And that 
centurion was a man of war whose praise Christ so sounded forth in the 
gospel, 'I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel,' Matt. viii. 10. 
And the best wars are for God ; so Christians bear in their ensigns the cross, 
to shew that they fight for the honour of Jesus Christ. 

'\\'hen, therefore, there is hazard to lose the peace of the people, the 
safety of the country, the glory of all, the gospel of our Saviour Christ, here 
is just cause of war. They that go forth to fight upon these terms shall 
conquer. 

' Causa jubet melior superos sperare secundos,' — 

A good cause gives assurance of victory. God shall marshal that army ; yea, 
himself wUl fight for them. 

(2.) The next caution, after a good ingression, is to be sure of a good pro- 
secution. We say of the chirurgeon, that he should have a lady's hand and 
a lion's heart ; but the Christian soldier should have a lady's heart and a 
lion's hand. I mean, though he deal valiant blows, yet not destroy without 
compassion. Fortitudo virtus bellica, mansuetudo virtus bella, — Though 
manfulness be a warlike virtue, yet gentleness is a Christian virtue. The 
sword should not be bloodied but in the heat of battle. And after victory, 
when a soldier looks on the dead bodies of his enemies, pity should sit in 
his eyes rather than insultation. He should not strike the yielding, nor 
prey upon prostrate fortunes. 

I know that divers aspersions are cast upon men of this rank. They 
think that many take arms, non ut serviant, sed ut sceviant, — not to serve 
for their country, but to rage and forage; making their coat-armour a de- 
fence for drinking, whoring, swearing, dicing, and such disorders. As if it 
were impossible that a tender conscience should dwell in one bosom with a 
valiant heart. Oliyn castra quasi casta dicebantur ; quia castratur in iis 
libido, — The camp seemed to take the denomination, saith he, from chastity; 
because in the wars lust was beaten do^vn. But now Venus is gotten into 
the arms of Mars. 

' Militat omnia amans, et habet sua caetra Cupido,' — 

Cupid hath displaj-ed his colours, and pitched his tent in the midst of the 
army ; as if it were the only bravery of a soldier to drink valiant healths to 
his mistress. One writes of the Turks, that though they are the most 
monstrous beasts at home in peace, and sin even against nature, yet in wars 
caute et cast^ vivunt, — they live charily and chastely. Not as the friars say, 
caute si non caste. The Turks are better than the friars in this. Vitia sua 
domi deponunt, saith he, — they leave all their naughtiness behind them at 
home. But he adds mthal, to our reproach, Christianus assumit, — the Chris- 
tians there take up those vices, as if they found them sown in a pitched 
field. That there is often, saith he, gravior turba meretricum, quam mill- 



44 TUE soldier's honour. [Sermon III. 

turn,— it is hard to judge whether the number of soldiers or of harlots be 
greater. Hence it is said that 

' Rara fides pietasque viris, qui castra sequuntur/ — 

There is so little fidelity and pity in men that follow the wars. These be 
the common invectives against soldiers. 

Hut now do not many tax them, that are worse themselves ? Wbo can 
endure to hear a usurer tax a pillager ? an epicure find fault with a drinker 1 
a man-eating oppressor with a gaming soldier 1 

' Quifl tulerit Gracchum de seditione loquentem ?'— 
Who can abide to hear Gracchus declaim against sedition ? or the fox preach 
innoccncy to the gccse ? Say that some arc faulty, must therefore the whole 
profession be scaud;dised ? Will you despise the word of God because some 
that preach it are wicked men 1 No — 

' Dent ocius omnes, 
Quas meruere pati, sic stet sententia, poenas,' — 

Lay the fault where it should lie ; be they only blamed that deserve it. Some 
persons may be reproveable, but the profession is honourable. 

The martialist may be a good Christian ; in all likelihood should be the 
best Christian. Mors semper in oculo, therefore should be semper in animo. 
How should death be out of that man's mind that hath it always in his eye ? 
His very calling tcacheth him to expound St Paul, who calls the Christian's 
life a warfare. His continual dangers, to the good soldier, are as it were so 
many meditations of death. If he die in peace, he falls breast to breast with 
virtue. If in war, yet he dies more calmly than many a usurer doth in his 
chamber. Though he be conquered, yet he is a conqueror ; he may lose the 
day in an earthly field, but he wins the day against sin, Satan, and hell \ 
and sings with Paul, like a dpng swan, ' I have fought a good fight, I have 
finished my course, I have kejit the faith; now there is laid up for me a 
crown of righteou.sness,' 2 Tim. iv. 7. 

2. The other inference that may hence be deduced is this, that munition 
and arms should at all times be in readiness. How grievous was it, when 
.Tabin had such a host, and not a ' .shield or spear among forty thousand in 
Israel !' For ourselves, we have not our peace by patent, we know not how 
long it will continue ; let us provide for war, in training some up to military 
practices. If war do come, it is a labour well spent; if war do not come, it is 
a lalx)ur very well lost Wise men in fair weather repair their houses against 
winter stonns ; the. ant labours in harvest that she may feast at Christmas. 
l)iH ajypnrandum est helium, ut vincas celerius* — Be long in preparing for 
war, that thou mayest overcome with more speed. Longa belli proeparatio 
cfUrrm jncit virtnriavi, — A long preparation makes a short and quick victory. 

Tut, we .say, if that day comes, we shall have soldiers enough ; we will all 
fight. I) ilulce Mlin.i i ii expert is, —Thoy that never tried it, think it a plea- 
sure to figlit. We shall fight strangely if we have no weapons, and use our 
weapons more strangely if we have no skill. ]Von de pugna, sed defuga cogi- 
t'lnt, qui nitdi in ncie ej-ponuntur ad vtdnera,— Their minds are not so much 
on tiKhtiiiL; as on flying, that arc exposed to the fury of war without weapons; 
nnithcr will all be soldiers that dare talk of war. A^on dat tot pugna socios, 
quf^dat mnifo cnninvas,—\\\ that arc your fellow-guests at the table wUl 
not be your fellow-.soldiers in the field. 

Could any tongue forbear to tax the rich men of this honourable city, if 
• Sen. 



Judges V. 8, 9.] the soldier's honour. 45 

their houses be altogether furnished with jjlate, hangings, and carpets, and 
not at all with weapons and armour to defend the commonwealth ? How 
fondly do they love their riches that will not lay out a little to secure the 
rest ! When the Turk invaded the Greek empire, before the siege was laid 
to Constantinople, the metropolitan city, the emperor solicits the subjects to 
contribute somewhat to the repair of the walls, and such military provision 
and pre\cntion ; but the subjects drew back and pleaded want. Hereupon 
the Turk enters and conquers : and in ransacking the city, when he found 
such abundance of wealth in private houses, he lift up his hands to heaven, 
and blessed himself that they had so much riches, and would suffer them- 
selves to be taken for not using them. 

So if ever London should be suprised by her enemies, — which the wonted 
mercies of our God defend for ever ! — would they not wonder to find such 
infinite treasures in your private houses, when yet you spent none of them 
to provide shield or spear, munition to defend yourselves 1 What scope can 
you imagine, or propound to your own hearts, wherem your riches may do 
you service ? You can tell me ; nay, I can tell you. You reserve one bag for 
pride, another for belly-cheer, another for lust, yet another for contention and 
suits in law. Oh the madness of us Englishmen ! We care not what we 
spend in civil jars, that yet will spend nothing to avoid foreign wars. They 
say the Jew will spend all on his paschs, the barbarian on his nuptials, and 
the Christian on his quarrels or lawsuits. We need not make ourselves ene- 
mies by our riches, we have enough made to our hands. Christ says, ' Make 
you friends of the mammon of unrighteousness,' — make to yourselves friends 
by your charity, not adversaries by your litigation. ' Seek peace,' saith the 
prophet, ' and pursue it,' — seek peace, war will come fast enough. And if it 
do come, it will hardly be made welcome. The Spaniards have often 
threatened, often assaulted, ever been prevented, ever infatuated. Take we 
heed, if they do prevail, they will be revenged once for all. God grant we 
never try their mercy. Whether they come like lions rampant, or like 
foxes passant, or like dogs couchant, they intend nothing but our ruin and 
desolation. 

Lord, if we must fiiU by reason of our monstrous sins, let thine own 
hand cast us down, not theirs ; for there is mercy in thy blows. When that 
woful offer was made to David of three things, ' Choose thee one of them, 
that I may do it unto thee,' — either seven years' famine, or three months' 
persecution, or three days' plague, — he answered unto Gad, and by him unto 
God, ' I am in a wonderful strait ;' but suddenly resolves, ' Let us now fall 
into the hands of the Lord, for his mercies are great ; and let me not faU 
into the hands of man,' 2 Sam. xx.iv. 14. If it be thy will, O Lord, to 
plague us, take the rod into thine own hands ; do thou strike us. 

' Liceat perituro viribus ignis, 
Igne perire tuo ; clademque authore levare.' 

Why shouldst thou sell us into the hands of those idolatrous Romists, that 
will give thine honour to stocks and stones, bless this or that saint, and not 
be thankful to thy majesty, that gives them the victory. For thine own 
sake, be merciful to us ; yea, thou hast been merciful, therefore we praise 
thee, and sing with thy apostle, ' Thanks be to God, which giveth us the vic- 
tory through Jesus Christ our Lord,' 1 Cor. xv. 57. 

1 have held you long in the battle ; it is now high time to sound a retreat. 
But as I have spoken much of Israel's afHiction, so give me leave to speak 
one word of the prophetess's afi"ectiou, and of tliis only by way of exhorta- 



48 THE soldier's honour. [Sermon III. 

lion : ' My heart is set on the governors of Israel, that offered themselves 
willinu'ly among the jteople. Bless ye the Lord.' Here is considerable both 
the ruhjfctum in quo and the objection in quod, — the subject in which this 
affection resides, and the object on which this affection reflects. 

The subject wherein it abides is cor, the heart, — a great zeal of love. 
Not only aftdio cordis, but cor afectionis; not only the affection of the 
heart, but t'he heart of affection : ' My heart is set.' 

The object on which it reflects is double, man and God"; the excellent 
creature, and the most excellent Creator ; the men of God, and the God of 
men. Upon men : ' My heart is towards the governors of Israel, that offered 
themselves willingly among the people.' Upon God : ' Bless ye the Lord.' 

Among men two sorts are objected to this love : superiors in the first 
l)lace, inferiors in the latter. To the commanders primarily, but not only; 
for if they offered themselves willingly among the people, as we read it, then 
certainly the people also willingly offered themselves, as the other transla- 
tions read it, ' Those that were -willing amongst the people.' You see here 
is a foundation laid for a great and ample building of discourse ; but I 
know you look to the glass, therefore promise nothing but application. 
And that— 

1. To the governors of our Israel ; that they offer for themselves willingly to 
these military designs, not on compulsion. Quoniam probitate coacta, gloria 
nulla vrnit, — His brows deserve no wreathed coronet that is enforced. 
Come with a willing mind. In every good work there must be sollicitiido in 
fffectu, and fervor in affectu, — cheerfulness in the affection, and carefulness 
in the action. God loves a cheerful giver ; so thou gainest no small thing 
by it, but oven the love of God. Whatsoever good thing thou doest, saith 
Augustine, do it cheerfully and willingly, and thou doest it well. Si cmtem 
cum tristida facis, de te jit, non tu fads, — If thou doest it heavily and 
grudgingly, it is wrought upon thee, not by thee : thou art rather the patient 
than the agent m it. God could never endure a lukewarm affection, Kev. 
iii. IG. No man was admitted to offer to the building of the tabernacle 
that did it grudgingly : ' Of every man that giveth it willingly with his 
heart ye shall take my offering,' Exod. xxv. 2. In all thy gifts shew a cheer- 
ful countenance, sjiith the wise man ; in all, whether to God or man. St 
Chrysostom gives the reason : Cum tali vultu respicit Dens, cmi quali tu 
facts,— God respects it with such a countenance as thou performest it. God's 
ser/kc is libera servitus, whore not necessity but charity serves, ^^on com- 
placft Deo famnlatus conctus,— God could never endure forced service. Do 
all then with willingness of heart. 

Tliink with a reverend courage of your noble ancestors ; how their prowess 
renownied thtinselvos and this whole nation. Shew yourselves the legitimate 
and true born children of such fathers. The fame of Alexander gave heart 
to Juliu.s ta;.sar to be the more noble a warrior. Let the consideration of 
their valout teach you to shake off cowardice. They fought the battles that 
you might enjoy the peace. You hold it an honour to bear arms in your 
KUtcheons ; and is it a dishonour to bear arms in the field 1 The time hath 
\m-u when all h..nour in England came a Marte or Merciirio; from learning 
or .invalo' from the pen or the pike, from priesthood or knighthood. 

it wouKlbc an unknown encouragement to goodness if honour still might 
not be dealt but ujum tho.se'tern.s. Then should many worthy spirits get 

Un .1 if ^"!'i ^^'•"■';'''■'■"""^ ' ='"'* ^'"^ ^^'•""^■^ «^i""W not come nearer 
than the DunsUible highway of obscurity. It was a monstrous story that 
Niappusa sheep did bring forth a lion ; but it is too true that many of our 



JtTDGES V. 8, 9.] TBE SOLBIER's HONOUR. 47 

English lions have brought forth sheep. Among birds 3'ou shall never see 
a pigeon hatched in an eagle's nest : among men you shall often see noble 
progenitors bring forth ignoble cowards. 

But let virtue be renowned, rewarded, wheresoever she dwells. Though 
Bion was the son of a courtesan, I hope no man will censure him with parties 
sequiticr ventrem. Non genus sed genius ; non gens sed mens. Never speak 
of thy blood, but of thy good ; iiot of thy nobility, thou art beholden to thy 
friends for it, but of thy virtue. Even the duke fctcheth the honour of his 
name from the wars, and is but dux, a captain. And it seems the dif- 
ference was so small between a knight and a common soldier among the 
Romans that they had but one word, miles, to express both their names. 

You that have the places of government in this honourable city, offer 
willmgly your hands, your purses, yourselves, to this noble exercise. Your 
good example shall hearten others. Be not ashamed to be seen among the 
people : upon such did Deborah set her heart. Alexander would usually 
call his meanest soldiers, friends and companions. Tally wi-itcs of Caesar, 
that he was never heard speaking to his soldiers, Ite illuc, Go thither ; but 
Venite hue, Come hither : I will go with you. The inferior thinks that 
labour much easier which he sees his captain take before him. Malus miles 
qui imperatorem gemens sequitur, — He is an ill soldier that follows a good 
leader with a dull pace. So Gideon to his soldiers. Judges vii. 17, ' Look on 
me, and do likewise : when I come to the outside of the camp, it shall be 
that as I do, so shall ye do.' So Abimelech to his men of arms, Judges ix; 
48, 'What ye have seen me do, make haste, and do as I have done.' The 
good captain is first in giving the charge, and last in retirmg his foot. He 
endures equal toil with the common soldiers : from his example they all take 
fire, as one torch lighteth many. — And so much for the governors. 

2. Now for you that are the materials of all this, let me say to you with- 
out flattery, Go forth vnih coimage in the fear of God, and the Lord be with 
you. Presence unity among yourselves, lest as in a town on fire, whilst 
all good hands are helping to quench it, thieves are most busy to steal booties; 
so whilst you contend, murmur, or repine one at the honour of another, that 
subtle thief Satan, through the crack of your divisions, step in, and steal 
away your peace. 

Offer yourselves willingly ; and being offered, step not back. Remember 
that tui'pe est militem fugere, — it is base for a soldier to fly. When Bias was 
envu'oned with his enemies, and his soldiers asked him. What shall we do ? 
he replied. Go ye and teU the living that I die fighting, and I will tell the 
dead that you did scape flying. Our chronicles report, that when WiUiam 
the Conqueror landed at Pemscy, near to Hastings in Sussex, he commanded 
all his ships to be sunk, that all hope of returning back might be frustrate. 
You have begun well ; go on, be perfect, be blessed. 

And remember always the burden of this song, which everything that 
hath breath must sing, ' Bless ye the Lord.' Those heavenly soldiers that 
waited on the nativity of Jesus Christ sung this song : * Glory be to God on 
high,' Luke ii. 14, Upon this Lord the heart of Deborah, of Israel, of us 
all, should be set. It is he that teacheth us to fight, and fighteth for us. 

To conclude with an observation of a reverend divine : England was said 
to have a warlike saint, George ; but Bellarmine snibs Jacobus de Voragine 
for his leaden legend of our English George. And others have inveighed 
against the authentic truth of that story. Sure it is their malice that have 
robbed England of her saint. St James is for Spain, St Denis for France, 
St Patrick for Ireland; other saints are allotted and allowed for other 



48 THE soldier's HONOUR, [SerMON III. 

countries ; only poor England is bereaved of her George : they leave none 
but (jod to revenge our quarrels. I think it is a favour and an honour, and 
we are bound to thank them for it. Let them take their saints, give us the 
Lord ! ' Bless ye the Lord.' So let us pray with our church, ' Give peace 
in our time, Lord ; for there is none that fighteth for us but thou, 
God.' To this merciful God be all glory, obedience, and thanksgiving now 
and for ever ! Amen. 



THE SINNER'S MOURNING-HABIT. 



Wlierefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes. — Job XLII. b. 

This is in many dear regards a mourning and penitential season,* therefore I 
thought best to accommodate it with a penitential sermon : ' I abhor my- 
self,' &c. 

Affliction is a winged chariot, that mounts up the soul toward heaven ; nor 
do we ever so rightly understand God's majesty as when wq are not able to 
stand under our own misery. It was Naaman's leprosy that brought him to 
the knowledge of the prophet, and the prophet brought him to the saving 
knowledge of the true God. Had he not been a leper, he had still been a 
sinner. Schola crucis, schola lucis, — there is no such school instructing as 
the cross afflicting. If I*aul had not been buffeted by Satan, he might have 
gone nigh to buffet God, through danger of being puffed up with his reve- 
lations. 

The Lord hath many messengers by whom he solicits man. He sends one 
health, to make him a strong man ; another wealth, to make him a rich man ; 
another sickness, to make him a weak man ; another losses, to make liim a 
poor man ; another age, to make him an old man ; another death, to make 
him no man. But among them all, none despatcheth the business surer or 
sooner than affliction ; if that fail of bringing a man home, nothing can do it. 
He is still importunate for an answer ; yea, he speaks, and strikes. Do we 
complain of his incessant blows ? Alas ! he doth but his office, he waits for our 
repentance ; let us give the messenger his errand, and he will begone. Let 
him take the proud man in hand, he will humble him : he can make the 
drunkard sober, the lascivious chaste, the angry patient, the covetous chari- 
table ; fetch the unthrift son back again to his father, whom a full purse had 
put into an itch of travelling, Luke xv. 17. The only breaker of tlio.^e wild 
colts, Jer. V. ; the waters of that deluge, which (though they put men in fear 
of their lives) bear them up in the ark of repentance higher toward heaven. 
It brought the brethren to the acquaintance of Joseph, and makes many a 
poor sinner familiar with the Lord Jesus. 

Job was not igaiorant of God before, while he sat in the sunshine of peace ; 
Init resting his head on the bosom of plenty, he could lie at his ease and con- 
template the goodness of his Maker. But as when the sun shines forth in 

* This sermon was preached in Whitehall, March 29, 1625, " being the first Tues- 
day after the departure of King James into blessedness." — Ed. 
VOL. l! D 



50 



THE sixner's mourning-habit. [Sermon IV. 



hia most glorious brightness, we are then least able to look upon him,— we 
inay st)lace ourselves in his diffused rays and comfortable light, but we can- 
not fix our eyes upon that burning carbuncle,— these outward things do so 
engmss us, take up our consideration, and drown our contemplative faculty 
in°our sense, that so long we only observe the effects of God's goodness, 
rather than the goodness of God itself. Necessity teacheth us the worth of 
a friend ; as absynthium (wormwood) rubbed upon the eyes makes them smart 
a little, but they see the clearer. Therefore Job confessed that in his pro- 
sperity he had only, as it were, heard of God ; but now in his trial he had 
seen him. Ver. 5, ' 1 heard of thee by the hearing of the ear, but now mine 
eye sceth thee' — tliat is, he had obt;iined a more clear and perspicuous vision 
of him ; the eye being more apprehensive of the object than the ear : segnius 
irritant aiiimos Jeinissa per aures. When we hear a man described, our 
imagination conceives an idea or form of him but darldy ; if we see him, and 
iutcntively look upon him, there is an impression of him in our minds : we 
know his stature, his gesture, his complexion, his proportion : sic oculos, sic 
Hie tnanus, sic ora ferebat. Such a more full and perfect apprehension of 
God did calamity work in this holy man ; and from that speculation proceeds 
this humiliation, ' Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.' 

Where we may consider three degrees of mortification : the sickness, the 
death, and the burial of sin. ' I abhor myself,' there sin is sick and wounded ; 
* I repent,' there it is wounded and dead ; ' in dust and ashes,' there it is dead 
and buried. To deny one's-self maims concupiscence, that it cannot thrive; 
to repent kills it, that it cannot live ; in dust and ashes, buries it, that it can- 
not rise up again. I throw it into the grave, I cover it with mould, I rake 
it up in dust and ashes. 

Hut I will not pull the text in pieces ; only I follow the manuduction of 
the words : f )r there is not a superfluous word in the verse, as the Psalmist 
said of the army of Israel, ' There was not one feeble person among them.' 
It begins as high as the glory of heaven, and ends as low as the basest of 
earth. The first word, 'therefore,' respects-an infinite God: the last words, 
' dust and ashes,' declare a humbled man. The meditation of the former is 
the cause of the latter, and the condition of the latter is the way to the for- 
mer. To study God, is the way to make a humble man ; and a humble 
man is in the way to come unto God. Such a consideration will cast u3 
down to dust and ashes : such a prostration will lift us up to glory and 
ble.'isedness. Here, then, is a Jacob's ladder, but of four rounds : divinity 
is the highest, ' I have seen thee ; therefore ; ' mortality is the lowest, * dust 
and ashes ;' between both these sit two others, 'shame' and 'sorrow;' no 
man can abhor hunself without shame, nor repent without sorrow. Let 
your Iionourablc patience admit Job descending these four stairs, even so low 
a.s lie went ; and may all your souls rise as he is ! 

Whn-ejore.—'nns, refers us to the motive that humbled him ; and that 
appears by the context to be a double meditation, — one of God's majesty, 
another of his mercy. 

1. Of hi.s majesty, which being so infinite, and beyond the comprehension 
of man, he considered by way of comparison, or relation to the creatures; 
tlie great behemoth of the land, the greater leviathan of the sea, upon which 
\\i'- hath spent the pr.'rcdcnt chapters. Mathematicians wonder at the sun, 
that, being so much bigger than the earth, it doth not set it on fire and burn 
it to a.«ho.s : but here is the wonder, that God being so infinitely gneat, and 
we BO infinitely evil, we are not consumed. ' Whatsoever the Lord would 
do, that ilid he in heaven, in earth, in the sea, and in all deep places,' Ps. 



Jol3 XLII. 6.] THK sinner's MOURNING-HABIT. 51 

cxxxv. G. If man's power could do according to Ids will, or God's will 
W(juld do according to his power, who could stand ? ' I will destroy man 
from the face of the earth,' saith the Lord, Gen. vi. 7. The original word 
is, ' I will steep him,' as a man steeps a piece of earth in water, till it turn 
to dirt ; for man is but clay, and forgets his Maker and his matter. None 
but God can reduce man to his first principles, and the original grains 
whereof he was made ; and there is no dust so high, but this great God is 
able to give him a steeping. 

2. Or this was a meditation of his mercy, than which nothing more 
humbles a heart of flesh. ' With thee, Lord, is forgiveness, that thou 
mightcst be feared,' Ps. cxxx. 4. One would think that punishment should 
procure fear, and forgiveness love ; but nemo magis diligit, quam qui maxime 
veretur offendere, — no man more tmly loves God than he that is most fearful 
to offend him. ' Thy mercy reacheth to the heavens, and thy faithfulness to 
the clouds,' — that is, above all sublimities. God is glorious in all his works, 
but most glorious in his works of mercy ; and this may be one reason why 
St Paul calls the gospel of Christ a ' glorious gospel,' 1 Tim. i. 11. Solomon 
tells us, ' It is the glory of a man to pass by an offence.' Herein is God 
most glorious, in that he passeth by all the offences of his children. Lord, 
who can know thee and not love thee, know thee and not fear thee ; fear 
thee for thy justice and love thee for thy mercy; yea, fear thee for thy 
mercy and love thee for thy justice, for thou art infinitely good in both ! 

Put both these together, and here is matter of humiliation, even to ' dust 
and ashes.' So Abraham interceding for Sodom, ' Behold, I have taken upon 
me to speak unto the Lord, which am but dust and ashes,' Gen. xviii. 17. 
Quaato viagis sancti Divinitatis interna conspicuunt, tanto magis se nihil 
esse cognoscunt. It is a certain conclusion, no proud man knows God. Non 
sum dignus, I am not worthy, is the voice of the saints : they know God, 
and God knows them. Moses was the meekest man upon earth, and there- 
fore God is said to know him by name, Exod. xxxiii. 17. 'I am less than 
the lea.st of thy mercies,' saith Jacob, Gen. xxxii. 10 ; lo, he was honoured 
to be fiither of the twelve tribes, and heir of the blessing. Quis ego sum, 
Domine, says David, — ' Who am I, O Lord?' He was advanced from that 
lowly conceit to be king of Israel. ' I am not worthy to loose the latchet of 
Christ's shoe,' saith John Baptist, Matt. iii. 1 1 ; lo, he was esteemed worthy 
to lay his hand on Christ's head. ' I am not worthy that thou shouldest 
come under my roof,' says the centurion ; therefore Christ commended him, 
' 1 have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel,' ilatt. viii. 8. ' I am the 
least of the apostles,' saith Paul, ' not worthy to be called an apostle,' 1 Cor. 
XV. 9 ; therefore he is honoured with the title of tlie Apostle. ' Behold the 
handmaid of the Lord,' saith tlie holy virgin ; therefore she was honoured to 
be the mother of the Lord, and to have all generations call her blessed. Tliis 
non sum dignus, the humble annihilation of themselves, hath gotten them 
the honour of saints. In spiritual graces let us study to be great, and not 
to know it, as the fixed stars are every one bigger than the earth, yet iippear 
to us less than torches. In alto non ultum sapere, not to be higli-naiiided 
in high deserts, is the way to blessed preferment. Humility is not only a 
virtue itself, but a vessel to contain other viitues : like embers, which 
keep the fire alive that is hidden under it. It emptieth itself by a modest 
estimation of its own worth, that Christ may fill it. It wrestleth with God, 
like Jacob, and wins by yielding ; and the lower it stoops to the ground, the 
more advantage it gets to obtain the blessing. All our pride, O Lord, is 
from the want of knowing thee. O thou infinite Maker, reveal thyself yet 



52 THE sinner's mourning-habit. [Sermon IV. 

more unto u.s ; so shall we 'abhor ourselves, and repent in dust and 

/ abhor myself.— It is a deep degree of mortification for a man to abhor 
him.sclf. To abhor others is easy, to deny others more easy, to despise others 
uiyst eiisy. liut it is hard to despise a man's self, to deny himself harder, 
hardest of all t.. abhor himself. Every one is apt to think Avell, speak well, 
do well to himself Not only charity, a spiritual virtue, but also lust, a 
canial vice, begins at home. There is no direct commandment in the Bible 
fur a man to love himself, because we are all so naturally prone to it. In- 
deed, wo are bound to love our.-^elves : so much is implied in the precept, 
'Love thy nei,'lil)our as thyself;' therefore love thyself, hut modus 2'>raici- 
■piendus, nt tibt prosis* so love thyself, as to do thyself good. But for a 
man, upon good terms, to abhor himself, this is the wonder. He is more 
than a mere son of Eve that does not overvalue himself. Qui se non admi- 
raUtr, mirabilis est, — He that doth not admire himself, is a man to be ad- 
mired. 

Nor is this disease of proud flesh peculiar only to those persons whose im- 
perious commands, surly salutations, insolent controlments, witness to the 
world how little they abhor themselves ; but it haunts even the baser condi- 
tion, and foams out at the common jaws. A proud beggar was the wise man's 
monster ; but pride is tlie daughter of riches. It is against reason, indeed, 
that metals should make difference of men ; against religion that it should 
make such a difference of Christian men. Yet commonly reputation is mea- 
sured by the acre, and the altitude of countenance is taken by the pole of 
advancement. And as the servant values himself higher or lower according 
as his master is, so the master esteems himself greater or less according as 
his master is, — that is, as his money or estate is. His heart is proportion- 
ably enlarged with his house : his good and his blood riseth together. ' Is 
not thi.s the great Babylon, which I have built for the honour of my ma- 
jesty ] ' Dan. iv. 30. But, you know, he was turned into a beast that 
said so. Gold and silver are heavy metals, and sink down in the balance ; 
yet, by a preposterous inversion, they lift the heart of man upwards, as the 
plummet of a clock, which, while itself- poiseth downwards, lifts up the strik- 
ing hammer. As Saul upon his anointing, so many a one upon his advanc- 
ing, is turned quite into another man. ' God, I thank thee,' says the Pha- 
ri.see, ' that I am not as other men are, nor as this publican,' Luke xviiL 11. 
' Not as other men,' and for this he thanks God : as if because he thought 
bettor of himself, God must needs think better of him too. Now he must 
no more take it as he hath done ; a new port for a new report. He abhors 
all luMi, but admires himself Yet after these blustering insolences and 
windy ...stentatious, all this thing is but a man, and that, God knows, a very 
fooli.sh one. 

r.ut the children of grace have learned another lesson, — to think well of 
otlitr men, and to abhor themselves. And indeed, if we consider what 
ina.ster we have .served, and what wages deserved, we have just cause to abhor 
ourselves. What part of us hath not sinned, that it should not merit to be 
dc.si.i.s.-.l ] Run all over this little Isle of Man, and find me one member of 
the ho.ly. or faculty of the soul, that can say with Job's messenger, chap. L 
1 .'). A> s„lnx ui//iif/i,—' I alone have escaped.' What one action can we jus- 
tify t Produce ex tot mi//i/>us, nnnm. Where is tliat innoccncy which desires 
jot to Htand only in the .sight of mercy ? There is in our worst works wick- 
cdne.s.s, m otir best wcaknes,s, error in all. ^Vhat time, what place, are not 
* Augustine. 



Job XLII. fl.] the sixxer's MouuNiNrr-HABiT. 53 

witnesses against us ? The very Sabbath, the day of rest, hath not rested 
from our evils. The very temple, that holy place, hath been defiled with 
our obliquities. Our chanabcrs, our beds, our boards, the ground we tread, 
the air we breathe, can tell our follies. There is no occasion which, if it do 
not testify what evil we have done, yet can say what good we should and 
have not done. 

If all this do not humble us, look we up, with Job here, .to the majesty 
which we have offended. To spoil the arms of a common subject, or to 
counterfeit liis seal, is no such heinous or capital crime ; but to deface the 
arms of the king, to counterfeit liis broad seid or privy signet, is no less than 
treason, because the disgrace redomids upon the person of the king. Every 
sin dishonours God, and offers to stick ignommy upon that infinite majesty; 
therefore deserves an infinite penalty. ' Against thee, Lord, against thee 
have I siimed,' Ps. li. 4. I, thy creature, against thee, my Maker : here is a 
transcendency, which when a man considers, he is worthy to be abhorred of 
all men that does not abhor himself. 

Yet when God and our own selves stand in competition, which do we 
most respect ? Temptation is on our left hand, in a beautiful resemblance, to 
seduce us; the will, the glory, the judgment of God is on our right hand 
to direct us : do we now abhor ourselves 1 Commodity sets off inicjuity, 
and woos us to be rich, though sinners; Christ bids us first seek the king- 
dom of heaven, and tells us that other things shall come without seeking, 
they shall be added unto us : do we now abhor ourselves ? Such a sin is 
pleasing to my lust and concupiscence, but it is disjileasing to God and my 
conscience : do I now abhor myself? That we love God far better than 
ourselves, is soon said ; but to prove it is not so easily done. He must deny 
himself that will be Christ's servant, Mark viii. 34:. Many have denied their 
friends, many have denied their kindred, not a few have denied their brothers, 
some have denied their ovra parents ; but to deny themselves, dunes hie sermo, 
this is a hard task. Ntgare suos, sua, se; to deny their profits, to deny their 
lusts, to deny their reasons, to deny themselves? No, to do all this they 
utterly deny. 

Yet he that repents truly abhors himself. A'^on se ut conditum, sed se ut 
perdiium, — Not the creature that God made, but the creature that himself 
made, llepentance loves animam, nan malitiam; carnem, nan canialita- 
iem, — the soul, not the venom of the soul ; the flesh, not the flcshliness of 
it. So far as he hath corrupted himself, so far he abhors himself; and 
could rather wish non esse, not to be at all, than malum esse, to be displeas- 
ing to lus ]\Iaker. 

Thus, if we despise ourselves, God will honour us ; if we abhor ourselves, 
God will accept us ; if we deny ourselves, God will acknowledge us ; if we. 
hate ourselves, God will love us ; if we condemn ourselves, God will acquit 
us ; if we punish ourselves, God will spare us ; yea, thus if we seem lost to 
ourselves, we shall be found in the day of Jesus Christ. 

/ repent. — Repentance hath much acquaintance in the world, and few 
fiiends ; it is better known than practised, and yet not more known than 
trusted. My scope now shall not be the definition of it, but a persuasion to 
it. It is every man's medicine, a universal antidote, that makes many a 
Mithridates venture on poison. They make bold to sin, as if they were sure 
to repent. But the medicine was made for the wound, not the wound for 
the medicine. We have read, if not seen, the battle betwixt those two 
venomous creatures, the toad and the spider, where the greater being over- 
matched by the poison of the less, hath recourse to a certain herb, some thhik 



54 THE sinner's mourning-habit. [Sermon IV. 

the plantain, with which she expels the infection, and renews the fight ; but 
at last, the herb being wasted, the toad bursts and dies. We suck in sin, 
the poison of that old serpent, and presume to drive it out again with 
repcuunce ; but how if this herb of gi-ace be not found in our gardens ? As 
Trajan was marching forth with his army, a poor woman solicited him to do 
her justice upon the murderers of her only son. ' I will do thee justice, 
woman,' says the emi)cror, ' when I return.' The woman presently replied, 
' But what if my lord never return '?' How far soever we have run out, we 
hope to make all reckonuigs even when repentance comes ; but what if re- 
pentance never comes ? 

It is not many years, more incitations, and abundance of means, that can 
work it ; but repentance is the fair gift of God. One would think it a short 
lesson, yet Israel was forty years a- learning it; and they no sooner got it 
but presently forgot it. Rev. xvi. 11, we read of men plagued with heat, 
and pains, and sores, yet they repented not. Judas could have a broken 
neck, not a broken heart. There is no such inducement to sin as the pre- 
sumption of ready repentance, as if God had no special riches of his own, 
but every sinner might command them at his pleasure. The king hath 
earth of his own, he lets his subjects walk upon it ; he hath a sea, lets them 
sail on it ; his land yields fruit, lets them eat it ; his fountains water, lets 
them drink it. But the moneys in his exchequer, the garments in his ward- 
robe, the jewels in his jewel-house, none may meddle with but they to whom 
he disposeth them. God's common blessings are not denied ; his sun shines, 
his rain falls, Matt. v. 45, on the righteous and unrighteous. But the trea- 
sures of heaven, the robes of glory, the jewels of grace and repentance, these 
he keeps in his own hands, and gives not where he may, but where he v/ill. 
Man's heart is like a door with a spring-lock ; puU the door after you, it locks 
of itself, but you cannot open it again without a key. Man's heart doth 
naturally lock out grace ; none but he that ' hath the key of the house of 
David,' Jicv. iii. 7, can open the door and put it in. God hath made a pro- 
mise to repentance, not of repentance ; we may trust to that promise, but 
there is no trusting to ourselves. Nature flatters itself with that singular 
instance of mercy, one malefactor on the cross repenting at his last hour. 
But such hath been Satan's policy, to draw evil out of good, that the calling 
and saving of that one soul hath been the occasion of the loss of many 
thousands. 

^V'hc^esocver repentance is, she doth not deliberate, tarries not to ask 
cpicstions and examine circumstances, but bestirs her joints, calls her wits 
and .senses together; summons her tongue to praying, her feet to walking, 
her hands to working, her eyes to weeping, her heart to gToaning. There is 
no need to bid her go, for slie runs ; she runs to the word for direction, to 
her own heart for remorse and compunction, to God for grace and pardon ; 
and wheresoever she findeth Christ, she layeth faster hold on him than the 
Shuuammitc did on the feet of Klisha, 2 Kings iv. 30 : ' As the Lord liveth, 
and as tliy .soul liveth, I will not let thee go ;' no Gehazi can beat her off. 
She resolves that her knees .shall grow to the pavement, till mercy hath an- 
swered lier from heaven. As if she had felt an earthquake in her soul, not 
unlike that jailor when he fdt, the foundations of his prison shaken, she 'calls 
for a light; Acts xvi. L'li, the gos[.el of truth, and springs in trembling ; and 
the first voice of her lips i.s, ' () what .shall I do to be saved V She lows with 
mounuiiB, like the kine that carried the ark, and never rests till she comes 
to Ik'thshcineHh, the fields of mercy. The good star that guides her is the 
proamc of God ; this gives her light through all the dark clouds of her sor- 



Job XLIL C.j tue sinner's mourning-habit. 55 

row. Confidence is her life and soul ; she draws no other breath than the 
persuasion of mercy, that the ' king of Israel is a merciful king,' 1 Kings 
XX. 31. Faith is the heart-blood of repentance. The matter, composition, 
constitution, substance of it, is amendment of life ; there be many counter- 
feits that walk in her habit, as King Ahab had his shadows, but that is her 
substance. Her countenance is spare and thin ; she hath not eyes standing 
out with fatness. Her diet is abstinence ; her garment and livery, sackcloth 
and ashes ; the paper in her hand is a petition ; her dialect is Miserere; aiid 
lest her own lusts should be bane within her, she sweats them out with 
confession and tears. 

We luiow there is no other fortification against the judgments of God but 
repentance. His forces be invisible, invincible ; not repelled with sword and 
target ; neither portcullis nor fortress can keep them out ; there is nothing 
in the world that can encounter them but repentance. They had long since 
laid our honour m the dust, rotted our carcases in the pit, sunk our souls 
into hell, but for repentance. Which of those saints, that are now saved in 
heaven, have not sinned upon earth ? What could save them but repent- 
ance ? Their infirmities are recorded not only for the instruction of those 
that stand, but also for the consolation of them that are fallen. In- 
struunt pafriarchce, non solum docentes, sed et err antes, — They do not only 
teach us by their doctrines, but even by their very errors. Noah was over- 
come with a little wine, that escaped drowning with the world in that deluge 
of water. Lot was scorched with the flame of unnatural lust, that escaped 
burning in the fire of Sodom. Samson, the strongest, Solomon, the wisest, 
fell by a woman. One balm recovered them all, blessed repentance. Let 
our souls, from these premises, and upon the assurance of God's promises, 
conclude, that if we repent, our sins are not greater, God's mercies cannot be 
less. Thus was Nineveh overthrowTi, that she might not be overthrown. 
Quce peccatis periit, JJetibus stetit. Every man must either be a Ninevite or a 
Sodomite ; a Ninevite sorrowing for sin, or a Sodomite suffering for sin. 
Doleat peccata reus, ut deleat peccata Deus. If we grieve, God will forgive. 

Nor yet must we think with this one short word, ' I repent,' to answer for 
the multitude of our offences; as if we, that had sinned in parcels, should be 
forgiven in gross. It were a rare favour, if we paying but one particular of 
a whole book of debts, should be granted a general acquittance for them all 
No, let us reckon up our sins to God in confession, that our hearts may find 
a plenary absolution. Nor is it enough to recount them, but we must recant 
them. Do we think, because we do not remember them, that God hath 
forgotten them ? Are not debts of many years' standing to be called for ? 
Man's justice doth not forbear old offenders ; no tract of time can eat out 
the characters of blood. ' Thou writest bitter things against me, when thou 
makest me to possess the sins of my youth,' Job xiii. 26. ' These things 
hast thou done,' saith God, ' and I held my peace : therefore thou thoughtest 
me altogether such a one as thyself ; but I will reprove thee, and set them 
in order before tlune eyes,' Ps. 1. 21. Therefore let us number all the sins 
we can, and then God will forgive us all the suis we have. 

If we could truly weigh our iniquities, we must needs find a necessity 
either of repenting or of perishing. Shall we make God to frown upon us 
in heaven, arm all his creatures against us on earth 1 shall we force his 
curses upon us and ours ; take his rod, and teach it to scourge us with all 
temporal plagues ; and not repent ? Shall we wound our own consciences 
with sins, that they may wound us with eternal torments ; make a hell in 
our bosoms here, and open the gates of that lower hell to devour us here- 



56 



TUE sixner's mourning-habit. [Sermon TV.- 



after : and not repent? Do we by sin give Satan a right in us, a power 
over US', Ml advantage against us ; and not labour to cross bis mischiefs by 
repontaiice ? Do we cast brimstone into that infernal fire, as if it could not 
be h.'t enough, or we should fail of tortures except we make ourselves our 
own U)rnjentor3 ; and not rather seek to quench those flames ^vith our peni- 
tent tears / ■, ■, ^ 

If we could see the farewell of sin, we would abhor it, and ourselves for 
it. Could David have conceived the grief of his broken bones beforehand, 
he had csciiped those aspersions of lust and blood. Had Achan foreseen the 
Htone.s about ills cars, before he filched those accursed things, he would never 
have lin"ur<-'d them. But it may be said of us, as it was of our first parents, 
when they had once sinned and f.dlen : Tunc aperti sunt oculi eorum, — ' Then 
their eyes were opened,' Gen. iii. 7 ; then, not before. In this place comes 
in repentance, as a rectifier of disorders, a recaller of aberrations, a repairer 
of all decays and breaches. So it pleaseth God's mercy that the daughter 
should be the death of the mother. Peccatum tristitiam peperit, tristitia pec- 
cattiiH i-oiiUret, — Sin bred sorrow, sorrow shall kill sin ; as the oil of scorpions 
heaU'th the sting of scorpions. 

If I should give you the picture of repentance, I would tell you that she 
is a virgin fair and lovely ;^nd those tears, which seem to do violence to her 
beauty, rather indeed grace it. Her breast is sore with the strokes of her 
own i)cnitent hands, which are always either in ^Moses's posture in the 
mount, lift up towards heaven, or the publican's in the temple, smiting 
her bo.som. Her knees are hardened with constant praying; her voice is 
hoarse with calling to heaven ; and when she cannot speak, she delivers her 
mind in groans. There is not a tear falls from her, but an angel holds a 
bottle to catch it. She thinks every man's sins less than her own, every 
man's good deeds more. Her compunctions are unspeakable, known only 
to God and herself She could wish, not only men, but even beasts, and 
trees, and stones, to mourn with her. She thinks no sun should shine, be- 
cause she t'lkes no pleasure in it ; that the lilies should be clothed in black, 
because she is so apparelled. Mercy comes down like a glorious cherub, and 
lights on her bosom, with this message from God, ' I have heard thy prayers, 
and seen thy tears ;' so with a handkerchief of comfort dries her cheeks, and 
tells her that .she is accepted in Jesus Christ. 

In dust and ashes. — I have but one stair more, down from both text and 
pulpit ; and it is a very low one — 'dust and ashes.' 

An adorned body is not the vehicle of a humbled soul. Job, before his 
aftliction, was not poor. Doubtless he had his wardrobe, his change and 
choice of garments. Yet now, how doth his humbled soul contemn them, 
as if he threw away his vesture, saying, I have worn thee for pomp, given 
countenance to a silken case ; I (|uite mistook thy nature ; get thee from me, 
I am wear>- of tliy service ; thou hast made me honourable with men, thou 
f.-iu.st get me no estimation before the Lord. Repentance gives a farewell 
not only to wonted delights, but even to natural refreshings. Job lies not 
on a b.'d of ro.seH and violets, as did the Sybarites; nor on a couch beauti- 
fied with the tq)cstry of Eg}-pt ; but on a bed of ashes. Sackclotlj is his 
apparel ; du.st juid ashes the lace and embroidery of it. Tlius Nineveh's 
king, ui-on that fearful Kenteiu-e, ' ro.se fnmi his tlinme, laid his robe from 
hini, cover.'d him.solf with .sa- kcl„t],, and sat in ashe.s,' Jonah iii. G. Oh, what 
an alU;rati<.n c.-in repenUuice make ! From a king of the earth to a worm 
"f the cnrtii ; from a footcloth to .sackcloth ; from a throne to a dunirhill ; from 
wttuig in state to lying in ashes ! Whom all the reverence of the world 



Job XLII. G.] the sinner's mourning-habit. 57 

attended on, to whom the head was micovered, the knee bowed, the body 
prostrated; who had as niauy sahitations as the tinnament stars, — God save 
the king ! — he tlirows away crown, sceptre, majesty, and all, and sits in 
ashes. How many doth the golden cup of honour make drunk, and drive 
from all sense of mortality ! Kiches and heart's ease are such usual intoxi- 
cations to the souls of men, that it is rare to find any of them so low as dust 
and ashes. 

Dust, as the remembrance of his original ; ashes, as the representation of 
his end. Dust, that was the mother ; ashes, that shall be the daughter of 
our bodies. 

Dust, the matter of our substance, the house of our souls, the original 
grains whereof we were made, the top of all our kindred The glory of the 
strongest man, the beauty of the fairest woman, all is but dust. Dust, the 
only compounder of differences, the absolver of all distinctions. Who can 
say which was the client, which the la-«'yer ; which the borrower, which the 
lender ; which the captive, which the conqueror, when they all lie together 
in blended dust? 

Dust; not marble nor porphyry, gold nor precious stone, was the matter 
of our bodies, but earth, and the fractions of the earth, dust. Dust, the 
sport of the wind, the very slave of the besom. This is the pit from 
whence we are digged, and this is the pit to which we shall be resolved. 
' Dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return again,' Gen. iii. 18. They 
that sit in the dust, and feel their own materials about them, may weU re- 
nounce the ornaments of pride, the gulf of avarice, the foolish lusts of con- 
cupiscence. Let the covetous think, What do I scrape for ? a little golden 
dust; the ambitious. What do I aspire for? a little honourable dust; the 
libidinous. What do I langoiish for 1 a little animated dust, blown away with 
the breath of God's displeasure. 

Oh, how goodly this building of man appears when it is clothed with 
beauty and honour ! A face fuU of majesty, the throne of comeliness, where- 
in the whiteness of the lily contends with the sanguine of the rose ; an active 
hand, an erected countenance, an eye sparkling out lustre, a smooth com- 
l)lexion, arising from an excellent temperature and composition; whereas 
other creatures, by reason of their cold and gross humours, are grown over, 
beasts with hair, fowls with feathers, fishes with scales. Oh, what a work- 
man was this, that could raise such a fabric out of the earth, and lay such 
orient colours upon dust ! Yet all is but dust, walking, talking, breathing 
dust ; all this beauty but the effect of a well-concoctcd food, and life itself 
but a walk from dust to dust. Yea, and this man, or that woman, is never 
so beautiful as when they sit weeping for their sins in the dust : as Mary 
Magdalene was then fairest when she kneeled in the dust, bathing the feet 
of Christ with her tears, and wiping them with her hairs ; like heaven, fair 
sight-ward to us that are without, but more fair to them that are within. 

The dust is come of the same house that we arc, and \\hen .she sees us 
proud and forgetful of ourselves, she thinks with herself. Why should not 
she that is descended as well as we bear up her plumes as high as ours ? 
Therefore she so often borrows wings of the wind, to mount aluft into the 
air, and in the streets and highways dasheth herself into our eyes, as if she 
would say. Are you my kindred, and will not know me ? Will you take no 
notice of your own mother ? To tax the folly of our ambition, the dust in 
the street takes pleasure to be ambitious. 

The Jews in their mourning used to rend their garments, as if they would 
be revenged on them for increasing their pride and keeping them from the 



58 



TUE sinner's moukning-habit. [Seemon IV 



sight of their nakedness. Then they put on sackcloth, and that sackcloth 
they sprinkled over with dust, and overstrawed with ashes, to put God m 
mind that if he shouM arm his displeasure agamst them, he should but con- 
tend with dust and ashfs. And what glory could that be for liiiu ? ' Shall 
the dust praise thee, O Gi)d I or art thou glorified in the pit r Ps. xxx. 9. 
Nay, rather, how often doth the Lord spare us, ' because he remembers we 
are but dust?' Ps. ciii U. To shew that they had lifted up themselves 
above their creation, and forgot of what they are made, now by repentance 
returning to their first image, in all prostrate humility they lie in the dust, 
confessing tliat the wind doth not more easily disperse the dust than the 
breath of God was able to bring them to nothuig. 

Thus dust is not only materia nostra, or mater, our mother, or matter 
whereof we are made, for our ' foundation is in the dust,' Job iv. 19, but 
patria nostra, our country where we shall dwell. * Awake, ye that dwell 
in the dust,' Isa. xxvi. 19. We are no better than the dust we shake off 
from our feet, or brush off from our clothes. Oh, therefore, let us turn to 
(Jod in dust, before he turn us into dust ! Yea, St Augustine goes further, 
and says, that not only the bodies of all men, but even the souls of some 
men, are no better than dust. They are so set upon earth and earthly things, 
that they are transformed into earth and dust, and so become the food of 
that old serpent, whose punishment was to eat the dust. 

For ashes, they are the emblem or representation of greater miserj\ Dust 
only shews us that we have deserved the dissolution of our bodies. Ashes 
put us in mind that we have merited also the destruction of our souls. 
Ashes are the leavings of the fire, the offals of consumed substances. When 
God shall give up the largest buildings of nature to the rage of that element, 
it shall reduce them to a narrow room, the remnants shall be but ashes. 
This was all the monument of those famous cities, Sodom and Gomorrah, 
and the rest ; heaps of ashes, 2 Pet. ii. 6. Ecce vix totam Hercules implevit 
urnam, says the poet, — That great giant scarce makes a pitcher of ashes. 

For this cause the ancients used to repent in ashes, remonstrating to them- 
selves that they deserved burning in endless fire more than those ashes 
wherein they wallowed. Yea, if Abraham compared himself to dust and 
ashes, I may compare my soul to a spark hid in the ashes, which when sick- 
ness and death shall stir up, like fire she takes her flight upwards, and leaves 
the heavy fruitless ashes of my body behind her. 

In both, we have a lesson of our own mortality. The finger of God hath 
written the epitaph of man, the condition of his body, like characters printed 
in the dust. Man's body, so well as the ice, expounds that riddle, that 
gifjnit ilia 7natrem,~i]ie daughter begets the mother. Dust begot a body, 
and a body begets dust. Our bodies were at first strong cities, but then we 
ma/Ie them the forts of rebels ; our offended liege sent his servant Death to 
arrest us of high treason. And though, for his mercies' sake in Christ, he 
jiardoMfd i.nr sins, yet he suffers us no more to have such strong houses, but 
leta us dw.'il ill paper cottages, mud walls, mortal bodies. Methusalem lived 
nine liundrcd sixty-nine years, yet he was the son of Enoch, who was the 
son of Jarcd, who was the son of Mahalaleel, who was the son of Cainan, 
who was tlie 8f)n of Enos, who was the son of Seth, who was the son of 
Adam, wlio was the son of dust. Ask the woman that hath conceived a child 
in her womb, Will it be a son? Peradventure so. Will it be well-formed 
aiul ftatund f Pcnulveiitiire so. Will it be wise ? Peradventure so. WiU 
wn T''^ Peradventure .so. Will it be long-lived? Peradventure so. 
Will It be morUl ? Yes, this is without peradventure ; it will die. Even a 



Job XLII. 6.] the sinner's MouRNiNO-nABiT. 69 

heathen, when he heard that his son was dead, could say without changing 
countenance, Scio vie yenuisse mortalem, — I know I begot a mortal man. 

An old man is said to give Alexander a little jewel, and told him that it 
had this virtue, so long as he kept it bright, it would outvalue the most 
tine gold or precious stone in the world ; but if it once took dust it would 
not be worth a feather. What meant the sage, but to give the monarch an 
emblem of his own body, which, being animated with a soul, commanded 
the world ; but once fallen to dust, it would be worth nothing, ' for a living 
dog is better than a dead lion,' Ecclcs. ix. 4. 

I conclude ; I call you not to casting dust on your heads or sitting in 
ashes, but to that sorrow and compunction of soul whereof the other was but 
an external symbol or testimony. Let us rend our hearts and spare our 
garments, humble our souls without afflicting our bodies, Isa. Iviii. 5. It is 
not a corpse wrapped in dust and ashes, but a contrite heart, which the Lord 
will not despise, Ps. li. 17. Lotus repent our sins and amend our lives; so 
God will pardon us by the merits, save us by the mercies, and crown us with 
the glories of Jesus Christ. 



HEAVEN MADE SURE; 



THE CERTAINTY OF SALVATION. 



Say xinto my soul, I am thy salvation. — Psalm XXXV. 3. 

The words contain a petition for a benediction. The supplicant is a king, 
and his humble suit is to the King of kings : the king of Israel prays to the 
King of heaven and earth. He doth beg two things : — 1. That God would 
save liim ; 2. That God would certify him of it. So that the text may be 
distributed accordingly, in salutem, et certitudinem, — into salvation, and the 
(Insurance of it, . 

The assurance lies first in the words, and shall have the first place in my 
discourse ; wherein I conceive two things — the matter, and' the manner. 
The matter is assurance; the manner, how assured: Die animal, 'Say unto 
my soul.' 

I. From the matter, or assurance, observe — 

1. That salvation may be made sure to a man. Da\dd would never pray 
for that whicli could not be. Nor would St Peter charge us with a duty 
which stood not in possibility to be performed : 2 Pet. i. 10, 'Make your 
flection sure.' And to stop the bawling throats of all cavilling adversaries, 
Paul directly proves it : 2 Cor. xiiL 5, ' Know ye not your own selves, how 
that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates T We may then know 
th.at Christ is in us : if Christ be in us, we are in Christ; if we be in Christ, 
we c^mnot be condenmed ; for, Rom. viii. 1, ' There is no damnation to them 
winch arc in Christ Jesus.' 

Put I le;ive this point, that it may be sure, as granted ; and come to 
ourselves, tliat we may make it sure. The Papists deny this, and teach tho 
cnntrary, tliut salvation caimot be made sure : much good do it them, with 
thi-ir .sorry and lu-artle.s.s doctruie ! If they make that impossible to any 
which (Jod hath made easy for many, 'into their secret let not my soul 
come,' Gen. xVix. G. 

2. That the best saints have desired to make their salvation sure. David 
that knew it, yet entreats to know it more. Ps. xli 11, 'I know thou 
favourcst me ;' yet here still. Die aninui', ' Say unto my soul, I am thy sal- 
vation.' A man can never be too sure of his going to heaven. If we pur- 



Psalm XXXV. 3.] heaven made sure. G1 

chase an inheritance on earth, we make it as sure, and our tenure as strong, 
as the bra-^vn of the law, or the brams of the lawyers, can devise. We have 
conveyance, and bonds, and fines, no strength too much. And shall we not 
be more curious in the settling our eternal inheritance in heaven ? Even the 
best certainty hath often, in this, thought itself weak. Here we find matter 
of coiisolailon, of reprehension, of admonition : comfort to some, reproof to 
others, warning to all. 

(1.) Of consolation. Even David desires better assurance : to keep us 
from dejection, behold, they often think themselves weakest that are the 
strongest. Sum peccatornm maximus, dicit apostolorum non m.ininuis, — He 
calls himself the 'chiefest of smucrs,' 1 Tim. i. 15, that was not the least of 
saints. Indeed sometimes a dear saint may want feeling of the spirit of 
comfort. Grace comes into the soul as the morning sun into the world : 
there is first a dawning, then a mean light, and at last the sun in his ex- 
cellent brightness. In a Christian life there is pmfessio, profectio, perfectio. 
A profession of the name of Christ wrought in our conversion ; not the husk 
of religion, but the sap: 'A pure heart, a good conscience, and faith un- 
feigned.' Next, there is a profection, or going forward in grace, ' working up 
our salvation in fear and trembling.' Last, a perfection or full assurance, 
that we are ' sealed up to the day of redemption.' 

And yet after this full assurance there may be some fear : it is not the 
commendation of this certainty to be void of doubting. The wealthiest 
saints have suspected their poverty ; and the richest in grace are yet ' poorest 
in spirit.' As it is seen in rich misers : they possess much, yet esteem it 
little in respect of what they desii-e ; for plenitudo opum non implet hiatum 
mentis, — the fulness of riches cannot answer the insatiable afiection. WTience 
it comes to pass that they have restless thoughts, and vexing cares for that 
they have not, not caring for that they have. So many good men, rich in 
the graces of God's Spirit, are so desirous of more, that they regard not what 
they enjoy, but what they desire : complaining often that they have no grace, 
no love, no life. God doth sometimes, from the best men's eyes, hide that 
saving goodness that is in their hearts : — 

[1.] To extend their desires, and sharpen their afiection. By this means 
he puts a hunger into their hearts after righteousness ; whereas a sensible 
fulness might take away their stomachs. Deferred comforts quicken the 
appetite. 

[2.] To enlarge their joys, when they shall find again the consolation which 
they thought lost. Desiderata diu didcius veniunt, — What we much wished 
before it came, we truly love when it is come. Our lady had lost our Lord, 
Luke ii., three days : who can express the joy of her soul when she found 
him ! She rejoiced not only as a mother finding her son, but as a smner 
finding her Saviour. Jiicunde ohtinetur, quod diu detinetur, — What was de- 
tained from us with grief, must needs be obtained of us with joy. 

[3.] To try whether we vv'ill serve God gratis, and be constant in his 
obedience though we find no present recompense. Satan objects that against 
Job, Pro nihilo ? — ' Doth Job fear God for nought?' chap. L 9. Thus are we 
put to the test whether our service proceed from some other oblique respect, 
or merely out of love to God, when nothing but smart is i)resented to our 
instant sense. 

[4.] That our care may be the greater to keep this comfort when we have 
it. Quod lugemus ademptum, vigilanter seniamus adepivm, — If we so sorrow- 
fully lamented the lo.ss, sure we wUl look well to the possession. 

In all this, Deus dona sua non neyat, sed commendat, — God intends not to 



63 



HKAVEN MADE SURE. [SeRMON V. 



deny as his comforts, but to instruct our hearts how to value them. Cito 
data vilescunt,—li we might have them for the first asking, their worth 
would fall to the oi)inion of cheapness and contempt. We shall have it, 
th(^u^'h wc stay for it. And to comfort us, let us assuredly know that this 
niouniing for God's absence is an evident demonstration of his presence. 

(2.) Of reprehension to other.s, that say they are sure of the purchase before 
they ever gave earnest of the bargain. Presumption is to be avoided so well 
as despair. For as none more complain that they want this as.surance than 
they that have it, so none more boast of it than they that have it not. The 
fond hypocrite takes his own presumption for this assurance : he lives after 
the flesh, yet brags of the Spirit. This false opinion ariseth partly from 
liis own conceit, partly from Satan's deceit. 

[1.] From his own conceit : he dreams of the Spirit, and takes it granted 
that it ever rests within him ; but when his soul awakes, he finds there no 
»uch manner of guest : the Holy Spirit never lodged there. Prov. xxx. 12, 
' There is a generation that is pure in their own eyes, yet are not washed 
from their filthiness.' These pure people so vaunt their assurance of salva- 
tion, that they will scarce change places in heaven with St Peter or St Paul, 
without boot. The infallible mark of distinction which the Apostle sets on 
the sons of God is this : they are ' led by the Spirit,' Rom. viii. 14. Gal. v. 
IS, 'So many as are led by the Spirit of God are the sons of God.' The 
Holy Ghost is their God and their guide ; and this Spirit ' leads them into 
all truth,* John xvi. 13, and guides them 'into the land of righteousness,' Ps, 
cxliii. 10. But these men wUl Spirilum ducere, lead the Spirit. They are 
not ductible ; they will not be led by the Spirit into truth and peace, but 
they will lead the Spirit, as it were, overrule the Holy Ghost to patronise their 
humours. Let them be adulterers, usurers, bribe-corrupted, sacrilegious, &c. ; 
yet they are still men of the Spirit. But of what Spirit? Nescitis: we may 
say to them, as Christ to his two hot disciples, Luke is, 55, ' Ye know not of 
what spirit ye are.' It is enough, they think, to have oculos in coelo, though 
they have vuinus in fundo, animos in prnfundo, — It is held sufficient to 
have eyes fixed on heaven, though covetous hands busy on earth, and crafty 
miilds deep as hell. This over-venturous conceit that heaven is theirs, how 
ba-se and debauched lives soever they live, is not assurance, but presumption. 

[2. J This ari.scth from Satan's deceit : who cries, like Korah, Num. xvi. 3, 
' Ye t.ike too much upon you, seeing all the congregation is holy, every one 
of them.' You are holy enough, you are sure of heaven : what would you 
morel You may sit down and play : your work is done. Hereupon they 
hiiig peace and requiems to their souls, and begin to wrap up their affections 
in worldly joys. But tranquillitas ista tempestas est, — tliis calm is the most 
grievous storm. This is carnal security, not heavenly assurance. As the 
.lews went Hito captivity with Templum Domini — 'The temple of the 
Lord,' itc— in tlieir lips ; so many go to hell with the water of baptism on 
their faces, and the assurance of .salvation in their mouths. 

(:i.) Gf iiiKtntdion, teaching us to keep the even way of comfort ; eschew- 
ing both the rock of presumption on the right hand, and the gulf of despera- 
tion on the left. Let ua neither be tiunidi nor iimidi, neither over-bold nor 
ovfT fainting, but endeavour by faith to assure ourselves of Jesus Christ, 
and l.y rfpcnfance to assure ourselves of faith, and by an amended life to 
n.H.sur." oiirs,'lve-8 of repentance. For they must here live to God's glory that 
would hereafter live in CJod's glory. 

."5. In the next place, observe the means how we may come by this assur- 
ance. Thia in diacoverod iu the text : JJic anima-, ' Say unto my soul.' Who 



Psalm XXXV. 3.] heaven- made sure. 63 

must speak 1 God. To whom must he speak 1 to the soul. So that in this 
assurance God and the soul must meet. This St Paul demonstrates, Rom. 
viii. 1 G, ' The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the 
children of God.' The word is a\j;M,'xa»TvsiTv, contestari, to bear witness to- 
gether. Neither our spirit alone, nor God's Spirit alone, makes this certifi- 
cate, but both concurring. 

Not our spirit alone can give this assurance ; for man's heart is always 
evil, often deceitful. At all times evii : Gen. vi. 5, ' Every imagination of 
the thoughts of his heart is only evil continually.' At some times deceitful : 
Jer. xvii. 9, ' The heart is deceitful above all tilings, and desperately wicked ; 
who can know it?' Non novi anhnam meam, saith Job, chap. ix. 21, 'I 
know not my own soul, though I were perfect.' And Paul, concerning his 
apostleship : 1 Cor. iv, 4, ' I know nothing by myself, yet am I not hereby 
justified.' And if David's soul could have made a sufficient testimony alone, 
what need he pray. Die anivuv, ' Say thoic to my soul V Some have a true 
zeal of a false rehgion, and some a false zeal of a true religion. Paul, before 
his conversion, had a true zeal of a fiilse religion ; Gal. i. 14, ' I was ex- 
ceedingly zealous of the traditions of my fathers.' The Laodiceans had a 
false, or rather no zeal of a true religion : Rev. iii. 15, ' I know thy works, 
that thou art neither hot nor cold.' So that when about this certificate a 
man deals with his heart singly. Ids heart will deal with him doubly. 

No ; nor doth God's Spirit alone give this testimony, lest a vain illusion 
should be taken for tliis holy persuasion. But both God's Spirit and our 
spirit meeting together are Concordes and contestes, joint witnesses. Indeed, 
the principal work comes from God's Spirit ; he is the primary cause of this 
assurance. Now, he certifies us by word, by deed, and by seal. By word, 
terming us in the Scripture God's children, and putting into our mouths 
that filial voice whereby we cry, ' Abba, Father.' By deed : Gal. v. 22, ' The 
fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering,' &c. By these is our 
* election made sure,' saith St Peter, 2 Epist. i. 10. By seal: ' Grieve not the 
Holy Spirit of God, by whom you are sealed to the day of redemption.' 
Now our spirit witnesseth with him from the sanctity of our life, faith, and 
reformation. ' He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in 
himself,' 1 John v. 10. 

4. Lastly, this is the sweetest comfort that can come to a man in this 
life, even a heaven upon earth, to be ascertained of his salvation. There are 
many mysteries in the world, which curious wits with perplexful studies strive 
to apprehend. But without this, ' he that increaseth knowledge increaseth 
sorrow,' Eccle?. i. 18. Unum necessarium, this one thing is only necessary; 
whatsoever 1 leave unknown, let me know this, that I am the Lord's. Qui 
Christum discit, satis est, si ccetera nescit, — He may without danger be ignorant 
of other things that truly knows Jesus Christ. 

There is no potion of misery so embittered with gall but this can sweeten 
it with a comfortable relish. When enemies assault us, get us under, triumph 
over us, imagining that salvation itself cannot save us, what is our comfort ? 
iVoi't in quern credidi, — ' I know whom I have believed ;' I am sure the Lord 
■will not forsake me. Deficit panis 1 thou wantest bread ; God is thy bread 
of life. We want a pillow; God is our * resting-place,' Ps. xxxii. 7. We may 
be sine veste, non sijie fide; sine cibo, non sine Christo ; sine domo, non sine Do- 
mino, — without apparel, not without faith ; without meat, not without 
Christ ; without a house, never without the Lord. What state can there be 
wherein the stay of this heavenly assurance gives us not peace and joy? 

Are we clapped up in a dark and desolate dungeon ? there the light of the 



HEAVEN MADE SURE. [SeRMON V. 

G4 

sun cannot enter, the light of mercy not be kept out. What restrained body, 
that hath the assurance of this eternal peace, will not pity the darkness of 
the proHuie man's liberty, or rather the liberty of his darkness? No walls 
ran kcej) t)ut an infinite spirit ; no darkness can be uncomfortable where ' the 
Father of lights,' James L 17, and the ' Sun of righteousness,' Mai. iv. 2, 
.sliinoth. The presence of glorious angels is much, but of the most glorious 
God is enough. 

Are we ca.st out in exile, our backs to our native home 1 — all the world is 
our way. ^^^lither can we go from God 1 Ps. cxxxix, 7, ' Whither shall I 
go from thy face ? or wliither shall I flee from thy presence 1 If I ascend,' 
A-c. That exile would be strange that could separate us from God. I speak 
not of thuse {MOT and common comforts, that in all lands and coasts it is his 
sun that shines, his elements of earth or water that bear us, his air we 
breatlie ; but of that special privilege, that his gracious presence is ever with 
us ; that no sea is so broad as to di\4de us from his favour ; that whereso- 
ever we feed, he is our host ; wheresoever we rest, the wings of his blessed 
providence are stretched over us. Let my soid be sure of this, though the 
whole world be traitors to me. 

Doth the world despise us? We have sufficient recompense that God 
esteems us. How unworthy is that man of God's favour that cannot go 
away contented with it without the world's ! Doth it hate us much 1 God 
hates it more. That is not ever worthy wliich man honours ; but that is 
ever ba.se which God despises. Without question, the world would be our 
friend if God were our enemy. The sweetness of both cannot be enjoyed j 
let it content us we have the best. 

It may be, poverty puts pale leanness into our cheeks ; God makes the 
worltl fat, but withal puts leanness into the soul. We decay in these tem- 
poral vanities, but we thrive in eternal riches. Job v. 22, ' The good man 
laughs at destruction and dearth.' Doth sickness throw us on our weary 
beds ? It is impossible any man should miscarry that hath God for his phy- 
sician. So Martha confessed to Jesus, John xi. 21, ' Lord, if thou hadst 
been here, my brother had not died.' Thy body is weak, thy soul is 
strengthened ; dust and ashes is sick, but thy eternal substance is the better 
for it. Vs. cxix. 71, ' It is good for me that I have been afflicted, that I 
might learn thy statutes.' 

Lastly, Doth the inevitable hand of death strike thee ? Egredere, anima 
mea, egredere, — Go forth, my soul, with joy and assurance ; thou hast a pro- 
mise to be received in peace. Happy dissolution, that parts the soul from 
the body, that it may knit them both to the Lord ! Death, like the proud 
rhili.stinc, comes marching out in liis hideous shape, daring the whole host 
of Israel to match him with an equal combatant. The atheist dares not 
die, for fear non es/^r, tiiat lie shall not be at all : the profane dares not die, 
for fear Jiiale esse, to bo danmed : the doubtful conscience dares not die, be- 
cnu.sc he knows not whether he shall be, or be damned, or not be at aU. 
Only the re.sulved Christian dares die, because he is assured of his election : 
he knows he shall be happy, and so lifts up pleasant eyes to heaven, the 
mfalhljle place of his eternal rest. He dares encounter with this last enemy, 
trample on him with the foot of disdain, and triumphantly sing over him, 1 
Cor. XV. 55, ' O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?' 
He con.iuers m bemg conquered ; and all because God hath said to his soul, 
' I am thy salvation.' 

The poor l'api.st must not believe this; such an assurance to him were 
npocryph.il, yea, heretical. Ho nuist lie on his deathbed, call upon what 



Psalm XXXV. 3.] heaven made sure. Go 

Baint or angel he list, but must not dare to believe he shall go to heaven. 
O uncomfortable doctrine, able to lose the soul ! What can follow, but 
fears without and terrors within, distrustful sighs and heart-breaking groans ! 
Go away he must with death, but whither he knows not. It would be pre- 
sumption to be confident of heaven. How should purgatory stand, or the 
Pope's kitchen have a larder to maintain it, if men be sure of their salvation 1 
Herefore they bequeath so great sums for masses, and dirges, and trentals, 
to be sung or said for them after they are dead, that their souls may at the 
last be hjvd to heaven, though first for a while they be reezed in purgatory. 
If this be all the comfort their i^iests, Jesuits, and confessors can give them, 
they may well say to them, as Job to his friends, chap. xvi. 2, ' Miserable 
comforters are ye all.' 

But he that hath Stephen's eyes, as also Paul's heart, and the saints' 
tongue : he that with Stephen's eyes. Acts vii 55, can see that ' Son of man 
standing on the right hand of God,' as if his arms were open to welcome and 
embrace him, must needs, with Paul, Phil. i. 23, ' desire to be dissolved, and 
to be with Christ,' and, with the saints, cry, ' Come, Lord, how long ! Amen ; 
even so, come. Lord Jesus !' 

II. Thus much for the matter of the assurance, let us now come to the 
manner : Die animce, ' Say unto my soul.' 

Say. — But is God a man 1 Hath he a tongue 1 How doth David desire 
him to speak ? That God who made the ear, shall not he hear 1 He that 
made the eye, shall not he see 1 He that made the tongue, shall not he 
speak 1 He that sees without eyes, and hears without ears, and walks with- 
out feet, and works without hands, can speak without a tongue. Now God 
may be said to speak divers ways. 

1 . God hath spoken to some by his own voice. To Adam : Vocem audive- 
runt, Gen. iii. 8, ' They heard the voice of God,' (tc. To Israel : Deut. iv. 15, 
* The Lord spake unto you out of the midst of the fire ; ye heard the voice 
of the words, but saw no similitude ; only ye heard a voice.' To Christ : 
John xii. 28, ' There came a voice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified 
it, and I will glorify it.' This St Peter testifies : 2 Pet. i. 17, ' There came 
a voice from the excellent glory, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am 
well pleased.' 

2. To omit visions, and dreams, and clouds, and chcrubims, and angels, 
Urim and Thummim ; God speaks also by Ids ivorks : Ps. six. 1, 'The 
heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth his handywork.' 
Manus loquuntur, — his works have a tongue. Opera testantur de me, saith 
Christ, — ' My works bear witness of me.' We may thus understand God 
ex opei'ibus ; his actions preach his will. 

3. God speaks by his Son : Heb. i. 1, * God, who at sundry times, and in 
divers manners, spake in times past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath 
in these last days spoken unto us by his Son.' He is therefore called the 
Word, John i. The sacred Scriptures, and sayings of the prophets, given by 
the inspiration of God, (for ' no prophecy is of private interpretation : it 
came not by the will of man, but holy men spake as they were moved by 
the Holy Ghost,' 2 Pet. i. 20, 21,) are called verbum Domini, the word of 
the Lord. But to distinguish God the Son from those words, he is, after an 
eminent sort, called o '/.dyo;, the Word, or that excellent Word. As also he 
is called, not a light, but ' tliat Light,' John i. 8 ; not a lamb, but ' that 
Lamb," ver. 29. Not a vocal word formed by the tongue beating the air, 
for he was before either sound or air, but the mental and substantial word 
gf his Father ; but — 

VOL. I. E 



gg HEAVEN MADE SURE. [SeRMON V. 

' Ipse paternl 
Pectoris effigies, lumenque ii lumine vero;' — * 
according to that of Paul, Heb. L 3, ' The brightness of his glory, and 
express image of his person.' 

4. God speaks by his Scriptures : Rom. xv. 4, ' Whatsoever things were 
written aforetime were written for our learning, that we, through patience 
and comfort of the scriptures, might have hope.' Scripta sunt,—t]i&y are 
written. Tilings that go only by tale or tradition meet with such variations, 
augmeutatii)n.s, ubbreviations, corruptions, false glosses, that, as in a lawyer's 
plwiding, truth is lost in the qucere for her. Related things we are long in 
gettin!;,°quick: in forgetting ; therefore God commanded his law should be 
written. Litem scripta manet. 

Thus God doth effectually speak to us. Many good wholesome instruc- 
tions have dropped from human pens, to lesson and direct man in goodness ; 
but there is no promise given to any word to convert the soul but to God's 
ATord. 

Without this, antiquity is novelty, novelty subtlety, subtlety death. Theo- 
loffia scholastica multis modis sophistica, — School divinity is little better than 
mere sophistry. Plus argutiarum quam doctrinoe, plus doctrince quam usus, 
— It hath more quickness than soundness, more sauce than meat, more diffi- 
culty than doctrine, more doctrine than use. 

This Scripture is the perfect and absolute rule. Bellarmiue acknowledgeth 
two things requirable in a perfect rule — certainty and evidence. If it be not 
certain, it is not rule ; if it be not evident, it is no rule to us. Only the 
Scripture is, both in truth and evidence, a perfect rule. Other writings may 
have canonical verity ; the Scripture only hath canonical authority. Others, 
like oil, may make cheerful man's countenance ; but this, like bread, 
strengthens his heart. This is the absolute rule : ' And as many as walk 
according to this rule, peace be on them, and mercy, and upon the Israel of 
God,' Gal. vi. 16. 

Oh that we had hearts to bless God for his mercy, that the Scriptures are 
among us, and that not sealed up under an unknown tongue ! The time was 
when- a devout father was glad of a piece of the New Testament in English ; 
when he took his little son into a corner, and with joy of soul heard him 
read a chapter, so that even children became fathers to their fathers, and 
begat them to Christ. Now, as if the commonness had abated the worth, our 
lUbles lie dusty in the windows ; it is all if a Sunday-handling quit them 
from perpetual oblivion. Few can read, fewer do read, fewest of all read as 
they should. God of his infinite mercy lay not to our charge this neglect ! 

5. God speaks by his ministers, expomiding and opening to us those 
Scriptures. These are legati d, latere, — dispensers of the mysteries of heaven ; 
* aniba-ssadors for Christ, as if God did beseech you through us : so we pray 
you in Christ's stead, that you would be reconciled to God,' 2 Cor. v. 20. 
Thi.s voice is continually sounding in our churches, beating upon our ears ; 
I would it could i)ierce our consciences, and that our lives would echo to it 
in an answerable obedience. How great should be our thankfulness ! 

God hath dealt with us as he did with Elijah: 1 Kings xix. 11, 'The 
I.a3rd pa.s.scd by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in 
ideccs the r(M'kH before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind : after 
the wind came an earthquake ; but the Lord was not in the earthquake : 
after the carlhcjuake a fire ; but the Lord was not in the fire : and after the 
firo a .still voice ; ' and the Lord came with that voice. After the same man- 
* I'allul. 



PrfALM XXXV. 3.] HEAVEN MADE SURE. C7 

uer hath God done to this hmd. In the time of King Henry the Eighth, 
there came a great and mighty wind, that rent down churches, overthrew 
altarages, impropriated from ministers their livings, that made laymen sub- 
stantiid {)arsons, and clergymen their vicar-shadows. It blew away the 
rights of Levi into the lap of Lssachar. A violent wind ; but God was not in 
that wind. In the days of King Edward the Sixth, there came a terrible 
earthquake, hideous vapours of treasons and conspiracies, rumbling from 
Rome, to shake the foundations of that church, which had now left off loving 
the whore, and turned Antichrist quite out of his saddle. Excommunica- 
tions of prince and people ; execrations and curses in their tetrical forms with 
bell, book, and candle ; indulgences, bulls, pardons, promises of heaven to all 
traitors that would extirpate such a king and kingdom. A monstrous earth- 
quake ; but God was not in the earthquake. In the days of Queen Mary 
came the fire, an unmerciful fire, such a one as was never before kindled in 
England, and, we trust in Jesus Christ, never shall be again. It raged 
against all that professed the gospel of Christ ; made bonfires of silly women 
for not understanding that their inefl'able mystery of transubstantiation ; 
burnt the mother with the child. Bonner and Gardiner were those hellish 
bellows that set it on fiaming. A raging and insatiable fire ; but God was 
not in that fire. In the days of Queen Elizabeth, of blessed memory, came 
the still voice, saluting us with the songs of Sion, and speaking the comfort- 
able things of Jesus Christ. And God came with this voice. This sweet and 
blessed voice is still continued by our gracious sovereign. God long pre- 
serve him with it, and it with him, and us all with them both ! 

Let us not say of this blessing, as Lot of Zoar, ' Is it not a little one?' 
nor be weary of manna with Israel, lest God's voice grow dumb unto us, and, 
to our woe, we hear it ^^eak no more. No, rather let our hearts answer with 
Samuel, 2 Sam. iii. 10, ' Speak, Lord, for thy servants hear.' If we will not 
hear him say to our souls, ' I am your salvation,' we shall hear him say, 
'Depart from me, I know you not' So saith Wisdom, Prov. i. 24-2G, 
' Because I have called, and ye refused ; I will therefore laugh at your cala- 
mity, and mock when your fear cometh.' The gallant promiscth himself 
many years, and in them all to rejoice. He thinks of preachers, as the devil 
said to Christ, that we come to ' torment him before his time.' Well, then, 
' Rejoice,' saith God, Eccles. xi. 9 ; ' let thy heart cheer thee in the days of 
thy youth.' But ivonice, he mocks when he says so. Now, quod Deus lajid- 
tur ridens, tu lege lacri/mans, — what God speaks laughing, do thou read 
lamenting. If God once laughs, it is high time for us to weep. They will not 
hear God when he preacheth in their health ; God will not hear them when 
they pray in their sickness. They would not hearken to him in the pulpit, 
nor he to them on their deathbed. 

6. God speaks by his Spirit : this ' Spirit beareth witness with our spirit,' 
&c. Perhaps this is that 'voice behind us,' Isa. xxx. 21, as it were whis- 
})ering to our thoughts, ' This is the way, walk in it.' This is that speaking 
Sl)irit : ' It is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father that speak- 
eth in you,' Matt. x. 20. It is this Spirit that speaks for us, and speaks to 
us, and speaks in us. It is the church's prayer, Cant. i. 2, ' Let him kiss 
me with the kisses of his mouth.' Sandus Spiritics oscidum I'atns, — The 
Holy Gho.st is the kiss of God the Father. Whom God kisseth, he loveth. 

Now by all these ways doth God speak peace to our consciences, and say 
to our souls that he is our .salvation : — 

1. He may speak with his own voice : and thus he gave assurance to 
Abraham, Gen. xv. 1, ' Fear not, I am thy shield, and thy eyieeding great 



68 



HEAVEN MADE SUKE. [SeEMON V. 



reward ' If God speak comfort, let hell roar horror. 2. He may speak by 
his works : actual mercies to us demonstrate that we are in his favour, and 
shall not be condemned. Ps. xU. 11, ' By this I know thou favourest me, 
because mine enemy doth not triumph over me.' 3. He may speak by his 
Son : Matt. xi. 28, ' Come to me, all that labour and are hea^y laden, and I 
will ea.<?e you.' 4.' He may speak by his Scripture : this is God's epistle to 
us, and his letters patent, wherein are granted to us all the privileges of 
salvation. A universal siquis : ' Whosoever believes, and is baptized, shall 
be saveiL' 5. He may speak by his ministers, to whom he hath given ' the 
ministry of reconciliation,' 2 Cor. v. 19. 6. He doth speak this by his 
Spirit : he ' sendeth forth the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, Abba, 
Father,' Gal. iv. 6. By all these voices God says to his elect, ' I am your 
siilvation.' 

To MV Soul. — Many hear God speaking comfort to the corporal ear, that 
hear him not speaking this to the soul. They hear him, but they feel him 
not. The best assurance is from feeling, ' Come near, let me feel thee, my 
son,' said Isaac to Jacob, Gen. xxvii. 21. Let me feel thee, my Father, say 
we to God. The thronging Jews heard Christ, but Zaccheus, that believing 
publican, felt Christ. ' This day is salvation come to thy house,' Luke 
xuc. 9. 

My Soul. — There is no vexation to the vexation of the soul ; so no con- 
solation to the consolation of the soul. David in this psalm, ver. 17, calls 
it his ' darling.' ' Rescue my soul from their destructions, my darling from 
the lions.' The .same prophet complained of a great unrest, when ' his soul 
was disquieted within him,' Ps. xlii. 1 1. Jonah, of a grievous sickness, when 
his soul fainted, chap. iL 7. Joseph had a cruel bondage, when the iron 
entered his soul, Ps. cv. 18. So, no comfort to tlye comfort of the soul. 
' In the multitude of my thoughts within me, thy comforts have refreshed 
my soul,' Ps. xciv. 19. The wicked hear tell of God's mercies, — comynuniter 
audimus verbum sahttis, — but God speaks not to their souls. Therefore 
they cannot say with Mary, •' My soul rejoiceth.' This joy, when God speaks 
peace to the soul, is inrfabile gaiidium, — a jubilation of the heart, which a 
man" can nciihcx redtare nor reticere, neither suppress nor express. It gives 
end to all jars, doubts, and differences ; overcomes the world, nonsuits the 
devil, and makes a man keep Hilary-term all his life. 

To MY Soul. — Mine. I might here examine whose this Tneoe is. Who is 
the owner of this my ? A prophet, a king, a man after God's own heart ; 
that confessed himself the beloved of God ; that knew the Lord would never 
forsake hirii ; holy, happy David owns this mece : he knows the Lord loves 
him, yet desires to know it more ; Die anima mece, — Say to my soul. 

lint let this teach us to make much of this my. Luther says there is 
great divinity in pronouns. The assurance that God will save some is a 
faith iufident to devils. The very reprobates may believe that there is a 
book of election ; but Cod never told them that their names were written 
there. The hiingiy beggar at the feast-house gate smells good cheer, but 
the master doth not say, This is provided for thee. It is small comfort to 
the haibourles.s wretch to pass through a goodly city, and see many glorious 
buildings, when he cannot say, IIa>c mea domus, — I have a place here. The 
be:iuty of that excellent city Jerusalem, built with sapphires, emeralds, 
chrysolites, aiul such preci)us stones, the foundation and walls whereof are 
pcrf.Tt gnjd, Jvev. xxi., atT.inls a soul no comfort, unless he can say, Mea 
dvitnii,~-l iiave a mansion in it. The all-sufficient merits of Christ do thee 
no good, uulcsa lua pars el j>oiiio, he be thy Saviour. Happy soul that can 



Psalm XXXV. 3.] heaven made sure, 69 

say with tlie Psalmist, '0 Lord, thou art my portion!' Let us all have oil 
in our lamps, lest if we be then to buy, beg, or borrow, we be shut out of 
doors, like the fools, not worthy of entrance. Pray, * Lord, say unto my soul, 
I am thy salvation.' 

I am thy Salvation. — The petition is ended. I will but look into the 
benediction, wherein I should consider these four circumstances : Quis, Quid, 
Cut, Quando, — Who, What, To whom. When. 

Who ? — The Lord. To the Lord David prays. He hath made a good 
choice, for there is salvation in none other. Hos. xiii. 9, ' Thou hast de- 
stroyed thyself, but in me is thy help.' The world fails, the flesh fails, the 
devil kills, only the Lord saves. 

What] — Salvation. A special good thing; every man's desire. Who 
would not be saved 1 Every man would go to heaven, though perhaps he runs 
a course directly to heD. Beatus vult homo esse, etiani non sic vivendo ut possit 
esse, — Man would be blessed, though he takes the course to be cursed. I 
will give thee a lordship, saith God to Esau. I will give thee a kingdom, 
saith God to Saul. I will give thee an apostleship, saith God to Judas. 
But, I will be thy salvation, he says to David, and to none but saints. 

Indeed this voice comes from heaven, comes unto earth ; but only through 
the Mediator betwixt heaven and earth, Jesus Christ. He is the alone 
Saviour. Worldlings possess many things, but have right to nothing, because 
not right to him that is ' the heir of all things,' Christ, Heb. i. 2. The soul 
is the perfection of the body, reason of the soul, religion of reason, faith of 
religion, Christ of faith. A man can warrant us on earth that our land is 
ours, our garment ours, our money, servant, beast ours, and that he is a thief 
who robs us of these. But all the men in the world cannot warrant us our 
salvation, but only Jesus Christ. Therefore that we may have assurance that 
all these are ours, and that we shall never answer for every bit of bread we 
have eaten, and for every drop of wine we have drunk ; that our possessions 
are our own, our gold, robes, rents, revenues, are our own ; let us be Christ's. 
1 Cor. iii. 22, 'Whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or 
death, or things present, or things to come ; all are yours, and ye are Christ's, 
and Christ is God's.' Be sure of salvation, and be sure of all. For ' he that 
spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not 
with him also freely give us all things?' Piom. \Tii. 32. 

To WHOM? — Jli/ salvation. Not others' only, but mine. A man and a 
Christian are two creatures. He may be a man that hath reason and out- 
ward blessings ; he is only a Christian that hath faith, and part in the salva- 
tion of Christ. God is plentiful salvation, but it is not ordhiary to find- a 
ciii, — to whom. Much of heaven is lost for lack of a hand to apprehend it. 
All pa.ssengers in this world presume they are going to heaven, but we may 
guess by the throng that the greater part take the broader way. Christ 
leaving the earth in respect of his bodily presence, left there his gospel to 
apply to men's souls the virtue of his death and passion, ilinistcrs preach 
this gospel, people hear this gospel, all boast of this gospel ; yet himself fore- 
tells that when he comes again he shall scarce ' find faith upon the earth.' 
No doubt he shall find Christians enough, but scarce faith. Salvation is 
common, as St Jude speaketh, ver. 3, ' When I gave all diligence to write 
unto you of the common salvation;' but few make it proper to themselves. 
That God is ??iy salvation and thy salvation, this is the comfort. 

When ? — In the time present, / am. Sum ; non sufficit, (jund era. It is 
comfort to Israel in captivity that God .says, Ero tua redemptio, — I will re- 
deem thee ; but the assurance that quiets the conscience is this, ' I am thy 



JQ HEAVEX MADE SURE. [SkEMOX V. 

salvation,' Ajs God said to Abraham, ' Fear not, I am with thee.' Deferred 
hope faints tlic heart. Whatsoever God forbears to assure us, oh, pray we 
him not to delay this : ' Lord, say to our souls, I am your salvation.' 

To conclude : it is salvation our j.rophet desires ; that God would seal 
biui up for his child, then certify him of it. He requests not riches ; he knew 
that man may be better fed than taught, that wealth doth but frank men up 
to death. He that prefers riches before his soul, doth but sell the horse to 
buy the saddle, or kill a good horse to catch a hare. He begs not honour : 
many have leai)t from the high throne to the low pit. The greatest com- 
mander on earth hath not a foot of ground in heaven, except he can get it 
by entitling him.sclf to Christ. He desires not pleasures; he knows there 
are ns great miseries beyond prosperity as on this side it. And that all 
vanity is but the indulgence of the present time; a minute begins, continues, 
ends it : for it endures but the acting, and leaves no solace in the memory. 
In the fairest garden of delights there is somewhat quod in ipsis florihus 
anf/at, that stings in the midst of all vain contents. 

In a word, it is not momentary, variable, apt to either change or chance, 
that he desires ; but eternal salvation. He seeks, like Mary, ' that better 
part which shall never be taken from him.' The wise man's mind is ever 
above the moon, saith Seneca : let the world make never so great a noise, as 
if it all ran upon coaches, and all those full of roarers, yet all peace is there. 
It is not sublunary, under the wheel of changeable mortality, that he wishes, 
but salvati(jn. To be saved is simply the best plot : beat your brains, and 
break your sleeps, and waste your marrows, to be wealthy, to be worthy — 
for riches, for honours ; plot, study, contrive, be as politic as you can ; and 
then kiss the child of your own brains, hug your inventions, applaud your 
wits, doat upon your advancements or advantagements; yet all these are but 
dreams. When you awake, you shall confess that to make sure your salva- 
tion was the best plot : and no study shall yield you comfort but what hath 
been spent about it. What should we then do but work and pray ? ' Work,' 
saith Paul, Phil, il 12, — ' Work up your salvation with fear and trembling;' 
and then pray with our prophet, ' Lord, say to our souls, thou art our salva- 
tion," -with comfort and rejoicing. 



• 

A GENERATION OF SERPENTS. 



Hieir poison is like the poison of a serpent : like the deaf adder that stoppeth 
her ear. — Psalm LVIII. 4. 

This verse spends itself on a double comparison; of persons and conditions. 

The persons compared are men and serpents ; the conditions or qualities 
upon which the similitude stands are poison and deafness. The former 
whereof is mdefinite : ' Their poison is as the poison of a serpent,' any ser- 
pent. The latter is restrictive : ' Their deafness is like the adder,' one kind 
of serpents. 

I. I will begin with the conditions ; for if the same qualities be found in 
men that are in serpents, there will follow fitly, too fitly, a comparison of 
their persons. The first quality here ascribed to the wicked by the Psalmist 
is — 

Poison. — There is such a thing as poison ; but where to be found ? 
Uhicunque fuerit, in honiine quis qucereret? — Wheresoever it is, in man who 
would look for it] God made mans body of the dust; he mingled no 
poison with it. He inspireth his soul from heaven ; he breathes no poison 
with it. He feeds him with bread ; he conveys no poison with it. Unde 
venenum 1 — Whence is this poison % Matt. xiii. 27, * Didst not thou, Lord, 
sow good seed in thy field ?' JJnde zizanice, — 'From whence then hath it 
tares?' Whence? Hoc fecit inimicus, — ' The enemy hath done this.' We 
may perceive the devil in it. That great serpent, the red dragon, hath 
poured into wicked hearts this poison. 

His own poison, malitiam, wickedness. Cum infundit peccatum, infundit 
venenum, — "NVhen he pours in sin, he pours in poison. Sin is poison. 
Original pravity is called corruption ; actual, poison. The \dolence and 
vii'ulcnce of this venomous quahty comes not at first. Nemo fit repente pes- 
simus, — No man becomes worst at the first dash. We are born corrupt, we 
have made ourselves poisonous. There be three degrees, as it were so many 
ages, in sin : — First, Secret sin ; an ulcer lying in the bones, but skinned 
over with hypocrisy. Secondh/, Open sin, bursting forth into manifest vil- 
lany. The former is corruption, the second eruption. Thirdly, Frequented 
and confirmed sin, and that is rank poison, envenoming soul and body. 

When it is imposthuniated to this ripeness and rankncss, it impudently 
ju-stifies wickedness for goodness ; venenum pro nutrimento, — poison for nu- 
triment. It feeds on, swallows, digests sin, as if it were uourishmcut ; as 



-■> A GEXEEATIOX OF SERPKNTS. [SeRMON VI. 

hemlock is good meat for goats, and spiders for monkeys. It despiseth all 
rci.r-H.f, 'sitting in the sconier's cliair,' Ps. i. 1 ; which, for the poison, is 
called by divines, secies pestilenti(e, — the seat of pestilence. Peccator cum in 
profundum venen't, contemnet, — When a wicked man comes to the depth and 
worst of sin, he despiseth. Then the Hebrew will despise Moses, Exod. ii. 
14, 'Who made thee a prince and a judge over us?' Then Ahab will 
quarrel with Micaiah, 1 Kings xxii. 18, because he doth not prophesy good 
unto him. Every child in Bethel will mock Elisha, 2 Kings ii. 23, and be 
bold to call him ' bald-pate.' Here is aj^original drop of venom swollen to a 
main ocean of poison : as one drop of Some serpents' poison, lighting on the 
hand, gets into the veins, and so spreads itself over all the body, till it hath 
stifled the vital spirits. 

In this poison there is a double pestilent effect — inficit, interficit. 

It i.s to themselves death ; to others, a contagious sickness. 

1. To themselves. — It is an epidemical corruption, dispersing the venom over 
all parts of body and soul. It poisons the heart with falsehood, the head 
with lightness, the eyes with adultery, the tongue with blasphemy, the hands 
with oppression, the whole body with intemperance. It poisons beauty with 
wantonness, strength vith violence, wit with wilfulness, learning with dis- 
sension, devotion with superstition, religion with treason. If they be greater 
gifts, it poisons them with pride, putting cantharides into the oU-pot. If 
meaner, it poisons them with hypocrisy, putting coloquintida into the porridge- 
pot. And where the cantharides of pride or coloquintida of hypocrisy are, 
there is veiienum et exitium, — poison and death. This poison, faster than a 
gangrene, nnis from joint to joint ; as an enemy takes fort after fort till he 
hath won the whole country. 

(1.) It is in the thought : Gen. vi. 5, the imaginations are full of poison. 
Every evil thought is not thus poisonous. There is malum innatum, and 
insemiriatu})!, saith liernard, — an evil bred in us, and an evil sown in us. 
Sins, like weeds, wUl grow fast enough without sowing ; but qui semi- 
naverit, — ' He that sows to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption,' Gal. vi, 
8. He that shall sow this venomous seed, poisons his soul. Jer. iv. 14, 
' Cleanse thy heart from iniquity, that thou mayest be saved. How long 
shall thy vain thoughts lodge within thee % ' Lodge ! He doth not speak 
of transient, but permanent sins: such as 'meditate mischief,' Mic. ii. 1; 
study to be naught ; whose imaginations suck poison out of every object, 
yea, though it be good, as the spider sucks poison from the sweetest flower* 

Vanishing thoughts, that pass through a good man without approbation, 
not without suppression, are properly non mors, sed morbus anima;, sed de- 
/onnita.\—i\\Q disease, not death of the soul, but the deformity. They are 
\mmiis»<t, Satan's darts shot through us : in corde, non de corde, in the 
licart, not of the heart. Which the godly sentiunt, von consentiunt, — feel, 
but givc^ no liking to. They are our crosses, rather than our sins. Such a 
thought i.s but mnrljHs mentis, the disease of the mind ; the other morsus ser- 
pentui,ihc w..und or poison of the serpent. The allowed filthy cogitation is 
the poi.son. Thus are the thoughts poisoned. 

(2.) From thi-nce it runs to the senses, and sets open those windows to let 
in the ])(.i.son..UH air of wickedness. The five senses are the Cinque Forts, 
when^ all the great traflic of the devil is taken in. They are the pores where- 
by Satan ronvey.s in the stinking breath of temptation. 

The ear is set wide open to receive in the poison of scurrUous songs, 
obsopnc jests, seditious libels. It is not only an Athenian ear, novitatis avida, 
Kreedy of news ; but a Cretian ear, pravitatis avida, greedy of evil. It 



Psalm LVIII. 4.] a generation of serpents. 73 

listens to hear of civil wars, uncivil treasons. It would fiiin have heard the 
great thunder-clap which the gunpowder should have made at the blowing 
up of the Parliament-house. Here is an ear for the de\il. Such ears have 
the Jesuits : they would fain hear of the ruin of kingdoms. What would 
make others' ears tingle, 1 Sam. iii. 11, makes their ears tickle. Auirs illcs 
in se sentiant, quod audire de aliis ciipiunt, — Let such ears feel that woe 
themselves which they desire so earnestly to hear of others. 

The ei/elid is set open with the gags of lust and envy. A libidinous eye 
draws in much poison. There be ' eyes full of adultery,' saith the Apostle. 
They fetch in seeds of poison from the theatre ; yea, — I tremble to speak it, — 
from the church of God. It beholds beauty, (God's rare workmanship on a 
piece of clay,) not to bless the Creator, but to draw a curse on the creature. 
Like a melancholy distracted man, that drowns himself in a clear crystal 
river. To such, chaste beauty is like the bellows ; though its own breath be 
cold, it makes them burn. 

There is another kind of eye that derives poison to the heart : the envious 
eye, that is vexed at the richer furniture, fatter estate, or higher honour of 
another; thinking his own not good, because his neighbour hath better. 
Any man's advancement is so capital an offence to his malice, that he could 
shoot out his own eyes, so they might be balls of wild-fire to consume him. 
But his malice sucks up the greatest part of his own venom, and therewith 
poisons himself, rather than others. A man that sees him would say he is 
poisoned ; for his blood looks of a yellowish colour, like those that are bitten 
with vipers. His gall flows as thick in him as if he had a poisoned stomach. 
If he had, as Seneca wished to the envious, eyes in every place, his uncon- 
tainable poison would soon burst him. As he is, he would be another's 
enemy, but is his own mischief. 

(3.) From the senses it runs to the tongue, and sets it a-swelling, a-swear- 
ing, that it infects the air, and poisons the very ' walls of the house,' Zech. 
V. 4. The excrements of the Jews, spat upon the face of our Sa\dour, were 
not so feculent. Their blasphemies strive to blast, not only the plants of 
the earth, but even the planets of heaven — the sun and stars ; and, if it were 
po.ssible, thoy would make new wounds in the side of Jesus Christ. If any 
swearer think I do his tongue ^vrong, let him read Eom. iii. 13, * The poison 
of asps is under their lips.' If you would know what that pestilent poison 
is, the next verse expounds it : ver. 14, ' Their mouth is full of cursing and 
bitterness.' They carry worse poison in ore, in their mouth, than any ser- 
pent in Cauda, in his tail. 'Their tongue is full of deadly poison,' James 
iii. 3. [1.] They have poison ; [2.] not dead, but deadly; mortal poison; 
[3.] not a little, but saturity of it; full of deadly poison. 

Poison hath thus got from their silent thoughts to their moving senses, 
and from thence to their loud and lewd-talking tongues. And this bewrays 
their venom, as the serpent's hissing betrays his malice. * The li"irt of fools 
is in their mouth ; but the mouth of the wise is in their heart,' Ecclesiast. 
xxi. 26. Caesar .said, he feared not Antony, whose heart was in his tongue, 
but Cassius, whose tongue was in his heart. A N\acked man's tongue dis- 
covers him. A bell may have a crack, though invisible ; take the clapper 
and strike, and you shall soon perceive it. The ungodly may conceal his 
wickedness by silence ; but if the clapper strikes, if his tongue walks, you 
shall quickly perceive he is cracked. A poisoned tongue cannot forbear to 
sputter abroad his venom. 

(4.) From the tongue this poison runs to the hnndx. Anaxagoras 
thought man the wisest of all creatures, because he hath hands : he might 



74 



A GENERATION OF SERPENTS, [SeRMON VI. 



have thought him the wickedest of all creatures, because he hath hands. No 
creature doth so nuich hurt with his teeth or talons as the wicked man with 
Ilia poisoued hands. A man doth greatly express himself by his hands. 
Paul, by beckoning his hand, Acts xxi. 40, procured silence. Much is done 
majtstate vmnus, as the poet,* by majesty of the hand. The wit seems to 
manifest itself in the hands : as the Italians say of the Dutchmen, that their 
wit dwells in their fingers' end. The power is seen in the hands. An 
ncsi'is lonijas re<jibus esse manus ? Yield the hand a principal instrument, 
yet corniptio optimi pessima. The evU hand doth not so much manifest 
man's wittiness as his wickedness. ' They devise iniquity, and practise it, 
because it is in the power of the hand,' Mic. ii. 1. The poison that was con- 
ceived in their thoughts dilates itself into their hands : cogitant, agitant. 

God reproves the Jews that they had manus sanguinum, bloody hands, 
Isa. i. 15. And the same prophet seems to liken it to a venomous infection, 
Isa. lix. 3, ' Your hands are defiled with blood.' And if the tongue can be 
po.ssibly brought to smother the inchcrished poison, yet manus manifestabit, 
the hand will discover it : ver. 6, ' The act of violence is in their hands.' 
The Israelites soon suspected what a king Rehoboam would be, when he 
threatened gravitatem manus, to make his hand heavy ; yea, his ' finger 
heavier than his father's loins.' Ahab quite disgraced himself for being 
thought religious, when he laid a violent hand on Naboth's vineyard. Jero- 
boam makes it plain that he bore no love to God's prophets, cum extendlt 
maiam, when he put forth his hand to strike one. Many landlords seem 
Christians, but they have Rehoboam's hand, a heavy hand on their tenants. 
Many usurers come to church, but they have Ahab's hand, to take the forfeit 
of the poor debtor's heritage, ilany parishioners seem to love their pro- 
phets, but they have Jeroboam's hand, a hand that strikes them, if not in 
person, yet in estate, undoing them and their families. This is venenata 
Tnanus, a poisoned hand. 

(5.) L;ustly, this poison having got possession of the thoughts, words, 
works, it nuist needs follow that it hath taken the heart. Cor dolet, — ' The 
whole heart is sick,' Isa. i. 5. These corrupted symptoms prove that the 
hcrirt is rotten. Job xx. 14, 16, ' The very meat in their bowels is turned to 
the g;dl of aspa They suck in the poison of asps.' If you ask why they 
feel it not, Paul says their sense is lost, ' they are past feeling,' Eph. vi. 1 9. 
Tlieir whole self is changed into a disease. Their body is no longer corpus, 
but nwrhus. As Lucan, Totum est pro vulnere corpus, — Their whole body is 
aa one wound or sickness. Neither can we say so properly of them that they 
arc sick, as that they are dead. Non a^groti, sed defuncti, — not diseased, but 
decoa.scd. 

And in all this observe the effect of this poison in themselves. For it 
doth not only annoy others, but mostly destroy themselves. And herein 
tlieir pci.son is not only tafe and tantum, such and so much as that of ser- 
pents ; but j'lus el perniciosiiis, more and more dangerous. Seneca says, 
I enenum quod serjKntes in alienam perniciem proferunt, sine sua continent, 
—The poison wliidi serpents cast out to the damage of others, they retain 
^yitho^t their own prejudice, liut the poison of the wicked, duvi alios in- 
Jicit,iieipsos interjicif, whilst it infects others, kills themselves. ' His own ini- 
(piilies .shall take the \\icked himself,' Prov. v. 22. 

Their own wickedness, like poLsou, liath in themselves these three direful 
,.ff,:it,H -.— It makes thciu. (1.) swell; (2.) .sv/v7/; (3.) burst. 

(1.) It makes them swell with [nkh, and blows up the heart as a bladder 
* I'crs. (Satyr, iv. 



Psalm LVIII. 1.] a generation of serpknts. 75 

with a quill. Quis est JJaiid ? — ' Who is David ? and who is the son of 
Jesse r 1 Sam. xxv. 10. Yea, Qitis est Dominm? — 'Who is the Almight}'', 
that we should serve him V J(.)b xxi. 15. Thus the spider, a poisonous ver- 
min, ' climbs up to the roof of the king's palace,' Prov. xxx. 28. If he be 
in prosperity, nothing can hold him to a man. Be he but a ' thistle,' 2 
Kings xiv. 9, he sends to the king of Lebanon for his daughter to be his 
son's wife. Though he be but a dwarf in comparison, he would swell to a 
son of Anak. Sin hath puffed him up, and he forgets his Maker. Jer. v. 7, 
* The Lord hath fed him to the full,' and he rebels against him. We have 
then good cause to pray with our church, ' In the time of our wealth, good 
Lord, deliver us.' 

(2.) It makes them swill; the poison of sin is such a burning heat within 
them, that they must still be drinking. And the devil, their physician, hold.s 
them to a diet-drink ; they shall not have the water of the sanctuary, that 
would cool thoni, but the harsh, haiish, and ill-brewed drink of corruption. 
They shall taste nothing but sin ; more poison still. Which is so far from 
quenching their thirst that it inflames it. 

' Totis exquirit in agris, 
Quas modo poscit aquas, sitiens in corde venenum.' * 

So a man puts out the lamp by pouring in more oil, and extinguisheth 
the fire by laying on fuel. This may for a small time allay the heat, as cold 
drink to a burning fever. So Ahab's fervour was a little delayed with a 
draught of wine out of Xaboth's vineyard. But Satan holds his guests to 
one kmd of liquor, and that is rank poison, the mud of sin and wickedness. 
He allows them no other watering-place but this puddle-wharf. 

(3.) It makes them Uirst. Here be the three sore effects of sin in the 
soul, as of poison in the body. First, it makes a man swell ; then it makes 
him drink ; lastly, it bursts him. Judas is hoven wdth covetousness, he 
drinks the money of treason, and then he bursts, liumpuntur viscera Jicdce, 
' he burst out,' Acts i. 18. This is the catastrophe of a Avicked life. ' Then 
when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin ; and sin, when it is finished, 
bringeth forth death,' James 1. 15. 

2. To others. — You see how fatal the poison of the wicked is to themselves. 
It doth not only rumpere se, but corrumpere alios, burst themselves, but cor- 
rupt others. It deprives them of their own good, it depraves others' good. . 
The hurt it doth to others consists in correptione et coti-vptione, in outward 
harming, in inward defiling them. 

Outwardly. — Their poison breaks forth in the injuries of all about them. 
They spare neither foreigner nor neighbour. There be little snakes in Baby- 
lon, that bite oiUy foreigners, and not inhabitants. Pliny writes of scorpion.s 
in the hill Caria, that when they sting only wound the natural-bom people 
of the country ; but extraneos leviter viordere, but bite strangers gently or 
not at all. These, like fools, not only strike them that are nearest, but 
beteem their poison in ruinam omnium, to the overthrow of all. Such a 
one cannot sleep except he have done mischief; nay, he dies, if others do not 
die by him. £t si non aliqua nocuisset, mortuus esset. A man's land cannot 
escape the poison of the depopulator, nor his estate the poison of the usurer, 
nor his children the ravisher, nor his peace the contender, nor his name the 
slanderer. If their poison cannot prevail ad interitum hominis, they will 
spend it ad interitum nominis. If they cannot murder, they will murmur. 
They are the devil's ban-dogs, as one calls parsons the Pope'.s Cerberus. If 
• Lucan. 



yg A GENERATION OF SERPENTS. [SeRMON VI. 

they cannot come to bite, they will bark. If their sting cannot reach, their 
luoiith shall sputter out their venom. 

Vea, some of them do not only this mischief whilst they live, but etiam 
mortiii, even dead. As Herod, that caused the noble sons of the Jews to 
be slain post mortem suam, after his death. They write of some serpents, 
that their poison can do no hurt except it be shot from the live bodies of 
them ; but these leave behind them a still evil working poison. As we 
say of a charitable man, that he doeth good after he is dead ; his alms main- 
tiiin many poor souls on earth when his soul is in heaven, — et quavivis ipse 
sepulliis, a/it : so these wicked sin perpetually even dead. The encloser of 
ct>mmons sinncth after he is dead, even so long as the poor are deprived of 
that benefit. He that hath robbed the church of a tenth, and so leaves it 
to his heir, sins after he is dead, even so long as God is made to lose his 
right. Moriente scrpente, montur vencnum ; but here, Moriente homine, vivit 
peccatiim. As one said of a lawyer, that, resolving not to be forgotten, he 
made his will so full of intricate quirks, that his executors, if for nothing 
el.se, yet for very vexation of law, might have cause to remember him. Jero- 
boam's sin of idolatry outlived him. The unjust decrees of a partial judge 
may outlive him, even so long as the adjudged inheritance remains with the 
wrongful possessor. The decrees of divers Popes, as in abusing the sacra- 
ment, forbidding marriage, &c., are their still living sins, though themselves 
be dead and rotten. 

Intra nil I/. — Their poison doth most hurt by infection ; their company is 
as dangerous as the plague ; a man cannot come near them but he shall be 
contaminated. Like the weed called gosses, they make the ground barren 
wheresoever they grow. Their poison is got, (I.) per contactum, (2.) contractum, 
(3.) compadum, (4.) conspectum. 

(1.) By touching. He that toucheth pitch shall be defiled. It is danger- 
ous to sport and dally with them: Dum ludunt, Imlnnt. Prov. xxvi. 18, 
' He casteth firebrands, and arrows, and death; and saith. Am I not in sport]' 
As .Solomon saith, ' Their very mercies are cruel;' so their very jest is killing 
earnest. 

■ {2-) By companying with them. They hurt by sporting, but worse by 
sorting. Prov. i. 14, ' Cast in thy lot among us; let us all have one purse.' 
They that will quarter themselves with the wicked must drink of their 
poison. If you ask how haps it that their infection is not smelt, Bernard 
answers : Ubi omnes sordent, unus miiiime senlitur, — One is not smelt, where 
all stink. 

(."'..) By confederacy; which is yet a higher degree of receiving their poison. 
Tlie first was a light dallying with their humours, the next a society with 
tliPMi in some drunken riots and disorders ; but this third is a conspiracy 
witli thoni in tluir pernicious and deadly plots. Thus a Seminary comes 
from linnie, and whistles together a number of traitors : he brought poison 
with him in a bull's horn, and they all nmst drink it ; as they report, that 
once one scabbed sheep from Si)ain rotted all the sheep of England. 

In this manner is this poison of adultery spread from a harlot. In selling 
lipr fle.sh, she sells prelium pe.ccati, and takes prcemium peccati. Either pre- 
tium pm-li or prcumium facti, she hath her price, and gives her male his re- 
ward. This IS a damnal)le combination: he that goeth after her poisons 
hmisclf ;),'r romparfmn, h-. bar-ains for his own destruction. 

(4 ) By ^i;,ht. As tho.se that look on iU-aiTected eyes attract .some of the 
nniniiH 1 by a kind of reflection, so the very beholdhig of their wicked 
example derives corru].tion to the heart by resultance. Many sins had been 



Psalm LVIII. 4.] a generation of serpents, 77 

unknown if they had not been learned by precedent. Great men graceless 
are the devil's special factors ; they have their new tricks of vanity to teach 
otliers. And they often broach these new fashions of damnation, not so 
much out of affection to the thing itself, as to be talked of. As Alcibiades 
cut off his dog's tail, that all the people might talk of his curtail. Oh the 
unspeakable deal of poison that is thus conveyed into men's hearts, and the 
innumerable souls that go to hell by pattern ! Thus they hurt others. 

But I have been too copious in discovery of their poison. I should come 
to their deafness : but I am loath to speak of deafness till the end of the 
sermon. 

II. Their poison being thus compared with the poison of serpents, let us 
now compare their persons. 

They are here said to be sicut serpentes, like serpents. But, Matt, xxiii. 
33, Christ calls the Pharisees very serpents ; and John Baptist, Matt. iii. 7 
a ' generation of vipers." And God tells Ezekiel that he did ' dwell among 
scorpions,' chap. ii. 6. In these places the sicut is left out, and the wicked 
are called very serpents. Not that the frame and form of their bodily con- 
stitution was serpentine. 

It was a foolish opinion among the heathen- that there were Ophiogenes, or 
Anr/itigence. They write of Ophion, the companion of Cadmus, and biulder 
of Thebes, that he was made by Pallas of a dragon's tooth. So Ephesus was 
once called Colubraxia, and the people thereof Ophiussai. 

I have read of one Exagon, an ambassador to Rome, being at the consul's 
command cast into a tun of snakes ; that they licked him with their 
tongues, and did him no harm. But to conclude hereon that these were of 
serpents' brood, we might as well say Daniel was born of lions because they 
did not hurt him. 

They are mystical serpents I mean. And if wicked men think scorn to 
be called scrpent.s, let them abhor the qualities of serpents. Sin is of that 
power that it can work metamorphoses, and transform men into beasts and 
serpents."' Let us now see what serpents we have among us. 

1. We have the salamander, the troublesome and litigious neighbour, 
who ever loves and lives in the fire of contention. Whatsoever they talk 
that the salamander is nourished by the fire, yet Galen and Dioscorides 
affirm that if it tarry long in it it will be burned, when the humidity is 
wasted. Whatsoever a man gets by the fire of vexation, at last his humour 
will be wasted, his wealth spent, and himself consumed in his own flames. 
Let no man think to get by his troublesomeness, as if he could be fed with 
fire. They talk of a net at Borne, wherein Christ's napkin is preserved, that 
it is washed in nothing but fire. And Paulus Venetus speaks of a kind of 
earth in Tartaria, which being spun into a thread, and woven into cloth, is 
only purged from all spots by washing it in the fire. But if ever any man 
grow happy by his contentiousness, I will believe that fire is nourishment. 

Some make the emblem of strife the snake. Alecto sent a snake to move 
contention in the family of Amata. 

' Unum de crinibus anguem 
Conjicit, inque sinum, praecordia ad intima, subdit.' + 

Let the unquiet man, that is still vexing his neighbours with suits and 
quarrels, here take his choice, whether he will be a snake or a salamander. 

2. We have the dart, and that is the angry man. This is the serpent that 
is thought to leap on Paul's hand. Acts xx\iii. : Jacidum vocat Africa. It 

* I refer you for thia doctrine to my sermon upon Matt. x. 16. t /Eneid, vil 



fjg A GENEHATION OF SERPENTS. [SeRMON VI. 

gathers itself into a heap on the top of a tree, and so flies at a man, tanquam 
ntffUta, as a dart. Such a serpent is the hasty, furious man ; he flies upon 
another with a sudden blow. Some conjecture, I biow not how probably, 
that these wore the fiery serpents in the desert. 

3. There is tlie dlpms, the drunkard. This serpent lives altogether in 
moorish places : the serpent in the fens, the man at the ale-house. Ovid 
writes of an old drunken woman, Est qucedam nomine Dipsas anus : ex re 
rumen habet. Her name did agree with her nature. It is ever dry, saith 
Lucan : MeJiis sUiehant Dipsades undis. If this sequent wound a man, it 
turns all his blood into poison : so the drunkard turns his blood to water, 
his bread to drink, his reason to jjoison, his very soul to froth. 

4. There is the crocodile, the hypocrite. He will sob, and sigh, and weep, 
to get a man into his clutches. If his hypocrisy can get him into a good 
house, he will devour the patron that breeds bim, the maintainer that feeds 
him : he undoes the fiimily where he once sets a foot into their doors, or 
puts a linger into their purses. Pliny saith, the crocodile is so delighted with 
the sunshine, that it lies on the earth immoveable, as if it were stark dead. 
Let the hypocrite be franked up with prosperity, and be sleeps as securely 
as if earth had lost all winds and heaven the thunder. His pampered body 
grows so fat tliat his soul lies soft in it, at great ease, and is loath to rise. 

5. The cockatrice, that is said to kill with the eyes. Illius auditos expectant 
nulla sumrros* The reason why it kills by sight is thus given, because 
the beams of a cockatrice's eye corrupt the visible spirits of a man; which 
corrupted, corrupt the other spirits coming from the brain, aRd life of the 
heart. Our common phrase hath found out creatures to match this kind of 
serpents — whores, usually called cockatrices. I would to God they were be- 
lieved as dangerous as they are, and are named. 

The cockatrice is a very hot creature, and therefore made with spiraments 
and breathing places all over the body, lest the compage and juncture of the 
whole composition should be dissolved. The intemperate heat of harlots is 
wor.-e, and in some kind a very reflection from the fire of hell. There is an 
old talc, that England was once so pestered with cockatrices, that a certain 
man found out one only trick to destroy them; which was by walking up and 
down in glass before them, whereby their own shapes were so reflected upon 
their own faces that they died. But it is idle, for it is more likely that the 
man should die by the corruption of the air from the cockatrice, than the 
cockatrice by the resultance of its oivn similitude from the glass ; as the 
liarlot will sooner pervert a man than he shall convert the harlot. Indeed 
they say, if they first see us, they kill us ; if we first see them, they die. So 
if we first see the damnation of a courtesan, we save ourselves ; if tbey first 
Bee and wound us, we die of it, 

0. There is tlie caterpillar : you all know this to be the covetous. I 
confer that other serpents are also fit emblems of the covetous; as the 
toad, that eatK sijaringly of the very earth, for fear it should be all wasted, 
and no food left for her. The German painters, to signify covetousness, do 
l-icture an old woman sitting upon a toad. Or the earth-worm : these worms 
eat up the fat of the earth, toads eat up those worms, and dragons eat up 
those toad.s. So lightly i)ctty usurers eat up the fat of the country, great 
oppr<'sv)rs(levoar those little extortioners, and at last the great red dragon 
bwaliows tliosf oppres-sors. 

Kut here I especially liken them to caterpillars. Pliny saith, that little 
worms, bred in the green leaves of plants, prove in three days caterpillars, 
* Nicand. 



Psalm LVIII. 4.] a geneeation of serpents. 79 

and eat up those plants. The country breeds these covetous \vretches, and 
they devour her. He writes also that caterpillars are bred by a dew, incras- 
sated and thicked by the heat of the sun ; it is the warmth of prosperity 
that breeds and feeds our usurers. Others say, that they come of butterflies' 
eggs, which the heat of the sun hatcheth, workhig so fit a passive matter to 
the form of a caterpillar ; so commonly your usurer hatcheth his riches out 
of the butterflies' eggs laid abroad by prodigal young gallants. The Scrip- 
ture calls them great devourers, Joel i. 4. Erucam vix pascit hortus unam* 
— A whole country will not content one avarous caterpillar. At last the cater- 
pillars perish of themselves, as ours do wilfully, through famine, and are 
transformed mto a bare and empty bag or case. If they perish in summer, 
out of their rind, being broken, comes forth a butterfly. Just as we see often 
from the ruins of a dead usurer, that wiis a caterpillar, springs a prodigal 
heir, that is a painted butterflj^ 

7. "We have also the asp, that is the traitorous Seminary. Lucan writes 
that the original of asps was Africa, and that merchants translated them 
into Europe. 

' Sed qiiis erit nobis lucri pudor ! Inde petuntur 
Hue Lybicre mortes, et fecimus aspida merces ;' — ' 

But what is our gain ? saith he. We have made the asps a merchandise. 
So these our asps are bred in Italy, and shipped over into England as a pre- 
cious merchandise. They speak themselves so gentle, that ' a sucking child 
may play at the holes of these asps,' Isa. xi. 8; but we have found their 
burrows the holes of treason, and their vaults the vaults of gunpowder. 
There is feud betwixt the ichneumon and the asp : they oft fight. If the asp 
bite first, the ichneumon dies ; if the ichneumon first, the asp dies. Let us 
strike them with punishment, lest they strike us with death. These asps 
kill many souls in our land. 

' Aspidis et morsu Iscsum dormire fatentur 
In mortem, antidotum nee valuisse f erunt ;' — 

If the bewitched people once receive their poison, they sleep to death; and 
no hope prevails, for they will not come to the church to be cured. 

8. There is also the lizard, the emblem of the slothful; as is also the 
sloio-worm, or the serpentine tortoise. They write of the lizard, that having 
laid eggs, she forgets the very place where she laid them. She will lie still 
till you cut her in pieces; and then the fore-part runs away upon two legs, 
and the hinder part on other two, living apart till they meet again, and then 
are naturally conjoined. If the lazy will follow the qualities, let them take 
the name of Uzards. 

9. There is also the seor serpent, and that is the pirate ; a thief cross to all 
kind of thieves : for other thieves first fall to robbery, and then are cast into 
jirison; but he first casts himself into a prison, and then falls to robbery. 
In a little vessel, a very jail, with a large grave round about it, he does all 
mischief. At last, when he grows great, he ruins himself. They write of a 
sea-dragon that grows to a huge vastness; but then the winds take him up 
into the air, and by a violent agitation shake his body to pieces. A notable 
part of God's providence, to tame that himself which his creatures cannot. 

10. There is the stellion, and that is the extortioner. Extortion and 
cozenage is proverbially called crimen stellionalus, the sin of stellature. 
When the stellion hath cast his skin, he greedily devours it again ; which, 
saith Theophrastus, he doth in envy, because he understands that it is a 

' • Martial. 



gQ A GENERATION OF SERPENTS. [SeEMON VI. 

noble remedy against the falling sickness. So in malice it lines the guts 
with that covered the back ; and eats that in summer wherewith it was 
clothed in winter. It destroys the honey of bees. Stellio scepe favos ignotus 
ademil* So the extortioner spoils the hives, and devours all the honey of 
poor men's gathering. It is a beast full of spots. 

'Aptumque colori, 
Nomen habet, variis stellatus corpore guttis.'f 

The spots that stick upon an extortioner are more innumerable. It Were 
well if such extortioners were served, as Buda3us relates a history of two tri- 
bunes, iiui per ^tfllaturas viilitibus multum ahstuUssent, — whom the emperor 
commanded to be stoned to death. 

1 1. The last is the great serpent of all, draco, the devil ; who is called the 
' great red drugon,' Rev. xii. 3. In idolatrous times and places dragons 
Lave been worshipped. The common distinction is, angues aquarum, ser- 
pentes terrarum, dracones templorum, — snakes of the water, serpents of the 
earth, dragons of the temple. There are too many wicked worldlings that 
still worship this god of the world, the red dragon. The dragons haunt 
principally trees of frankincense. Satan loves to have men sacrifice to him ; 
he tempted the Son of God to fall down and worship him. Nothing but the 
smoke of styrax can drive away dragons ; not holy water, not crossings, but 
only faith hi the Lord Jesus can put the devil to flight. Serpens serpentem 
devorando ft draco, — The devil at first was but a serpent; now, by devour- 
ing many millions of these serpents, the wicked, he is become a dragon, 

I should here shew you two things : — 

1. The remedy to draw out this poison, and to cure the soul; which is 
only sanguis medici, the blood of our physiciari. John iii. 14, 'As Moses lifted 
up the serpent in the wilderness,' so was Christ lifted up as a serpent, that 
what eye of faith soever looks on him, he may be healed of the sting of those 
fiery seri)cnts, and have the damnable poison of sm drawn out. 

2. That our next course is repentance for our sins; that as the oil of 
scori)ions is the best remedy for them that are stung with scorpions, so 
rcptntance for sin is the best remedy within us to expel the poison of sin. 
Think of the wise man's counsel, Ecclesiast. xxi. 2, ' Fly from sin as from the 
face of a serpent : if thou comest too near it, it will bite thee.' 

Their deafness remains to be spoken, and must remain unspoken. How 
should they be cured that are deaf to the counsel of their physician ? Though 
there be poison in us, even the poison of dragons, yet God bless us from the 
deafness of the adder ! Let us hear our remedy, and embrace it ; pray to 
God for it, and receive it; and 'the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from 
all our sins,' 1 John i. 7. To this Saviour let aU that are saved give praise 
and glory for ever and ever. Amen. 

• Virg. f Ovid. 



THE EAGE OF OPPEESSION. 



Thou hast caused men to ride over our heads ; we went through fire and 
through ivater : hut thou hroughtestvs out into a xvealthy place. — Psalm 
LXVI. 12. 

This verse is like that sea, Llatt. viii. 24, so tempestuous at first that the 
vessel was covered with waves ; but Christ's rebuke quieted all, and there 
followed a great calm. Here are cruel Nimrods riding over innocent heads, 
as they would over fallow lands ; and dangerous passages through fire and 
water ; but the storm is soon ended, or rather the passengers are landed : 
* Thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place.' 

So that this strain of David's music or psalmody consists of two notes — 
one mournful, the other mirthful ; the one a touch of distress, the other of 
redress : which directs our course to an observation of misery and of mercy, 
of grievous misery, of gracious mercy. There is desolation and consolation 
in one verse : a deep dejection, as laid under the feet of beasts ; a happy deli- 
verance, ' brought out into a wealthy place.' 

In both these strains God hath his stroke : he is a principal in this concert. 
He is brought in for an actor and for an author ; an actor in the persecu- 
tion, an author in the deliverance. ' Thou causest,' &c. ; ' Thou broughtest,' 
&c. In the one he is a causing worker, in the other a sole- working cause. 
In the one he is joined with company, in the other he works alone. He 
hath a finger in the former, his whole hand in the latter. 

We must begin with the misery, before we come to the mercy. If there 
were no trouble, we should not know the worth of a deliverance. The pas- 
sion of the saints is given, by the hearty and ponderous description, for very 
grievous : yet it is written in the forehead of the text, ' The Lord caused it.' 
' Thou causedst men to ride,' &c. 

Hereupon some wicked libertine may offer to rub his filthiness upon God's 
purity, and to plead an authentical derivation of all his villany against the 
saints from the Lord's warrant : * He caused it.' We answer, to the justi- 
fication of truth itself, that God doth ordain and order every persecution that 
striketh his children, without any allowance to the instrument that gives the 
blow. God works in the same action with others, not after the same man- 
ner. In the affliction of Job were three agents — God, Satan, and the Sa- 
beans. The devil works on his body, the Sabeans on his goods; yet Job 
confesseth a third party : * The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away.' Here 
VOL. I. p 



g2 THE RAGE OF OPPRESSION. [SeRMON VII. 

onpressore trample on the godly, and God is said to cause it. He causeth 
affUction for trial, (so, ver. 10, 11, 'Thou hast tried us,' &c. ;) they work it 
for ni:iUce : neither can God be accused nor they excused. 

In a sinful action there be two things, the material and the formal part ; 
which we commonly distinguish into the act and defect. The material 
i)art is of God, from whom is all motion; the formal is from the pravity of 
the agent. Persecutors could not accuse us maliciously, if God gave not 
motion to their tongues; nor strike us AvrongfuUy, if he denied strength to 
their hands. Thought, sight, desire, speech, strength, motion, are God's good 
fifts; to turn all these to his dishonour is the wicked person's fault. 

God liath another intent than man hath, even in man's work. The Chal- 
deans steal Job's wealth to enrich themselves ; the devil afflicts liis body in 
his hatred to mankind ; God suffers all this for the trial of his patience. 
Man for covetousncss, the devil for malice, God for probation of the afflicted's 
constancy, and advancing his own glory. In the giving of Christ to death, 
as Augustine observes, Epist. xlviii., the Father gave the Son, the Son gave 
himself, Judas betrayed him, and the Jews crucified him. In one and the 
same tradition, God is to be blessed and man condemned. Quia in re una 
quam fecerunt, causa non una oh quam fecerunt, — Because in that same 
thing they all did, there was not the same cause why they all did it. God's 
end was love ; Judas's, avarice ; the Jews', malice. 

The covetous extortioner taketh away the goods of his neighbour ; that 
robber spoileth. He could have no tongue to plead, nor wit to circumvent, 
nor hands to carry away, without God ; from him he hath those creatures, 
together with the notion of mind and motion of body. But to pervert all 
these to damnify others, and to damn himself, ariseth from his own avarous 
and rancorous pravity. His intent is wicked ; yet not without God's wisdom 
to raise profit from it. Perhaps the oppressed had too good a liking to the 
world, and began, to admit a little confidence in their wealth : the Lord hath 
benefited them in taking away these snares, to save their souls. 

Yet without toleration, countenance, or help to the wicked. The usurer 
hath done thee good ; by making thee poor in purse, helped thee to the riches 
of grace ; yet he goes to hell for his labour. They that do God service against 
their wills, shall have but shrewd wages. It cannot be denied but the 
devil did God service in trying Job, winnowing Peter, buff"cting Paul, exe- 
cuting Judas ; yet shall not all this ease the least torment of his damnation. 
For trial here arc these oppressors sufiered to ride over the godly's heads, 
and to drive them through fire and water ; when these have, like furnaces, 
purged them from dross and corruption, themselves shall be burnt. For it 
is usual with God, when he hath done beating his children, to throw the rod 
into the fire. Babylon a long time shall be the Lord's hammer to bruise the 
nations ; at last itself shall be bruised. Judas did an act that redounds to 
Cfod's otonial honour and our blessed salvation, yet was his wages the gal- 
lows. All these hammers, axes, rods, saws, swords, instruments, when they 
have (lone tho.se offices they never meant, shall for those they have meant be 
thrown to confusion. 

I will now leave God's justice to himself, and come to the injustice ot 
tliose o]. pressors, and the passion of the sufferers. And because the quality 
of these latter shall add some aggravation to the cruel malice of the former, 
I will first set before your eyes the martyrs. The i)salm being written by 
David, and tlie sulferers .spoken of in the first perscm plural,— «'e, us, and our, 
—It follows that it was botli David and such as David was: beloved of God, 
holy, 3.iints. 



Psalm LXVI. 12.] the rage of oppression. 83 

And whom doth the world think to ride over but saints ? Ps. xliv. 22. 
Who should be appointed to the slaughter but sheep 1 The wolf will not 
prey on the fox, he is too crafty ; nor on the elephant, he is too mighty ; 
nor on a dog, he is too equal ; but on the silly lamb, that can neither run 
to escape nor fight to conquer. They write of a bird that is the crocodile's 
tooth-picker, and feeds on the fragments left in his teeth whiles the serpent 
lies a-sunning ; which when the unthankful crocodile would devour, God 
hath set so sharp a prick on the top of the bird's head, that he dares not 
shut his jaws till it be gone. And they speak of a little fish that goes 
bristling by the pike, or any other ravenous water creature, and they dare not 
for his pricks and thorns touch him. Those whom nature or art, strength 
or sleight, have made inexposable to easy ruin, may pass unmolested. The 
wicked will not grapple upon equal terms ; they must have either local or 
ceremonial advantage. But the godly are weak and poor, and it is not hard 
to prey upon prostrate fortunes. A low hedge is soon trodden down ; and 
over a wretch dejected on the base earth an insulting enemy may easily 
stride. Whiles David is down, (or rather in him figured the church,) ' the 
plowers may plow upon his back, and make long their furrows,' Ps. cxxix. 3, 

But what if they ride over our heads, and wound our flesh, let them not 
wound our patience. Though we seal the bond of conscience with the blood 
of innocence, though we lose our lives, let us not lose our patience. Lac- 
tantius* says of the philosophers, that they had a sword and wanted a 
buckler ; but a buckler doth better become a Christian than a sword. Let 
us know, non nunc honoris 7iostri tempus esse, sed doloris, sed passiouis, — that 
this is not the time of our joy and honour, but of our passion and sorrow. 
Therefore ' let us with patience run the race,' &c., Heb. xii. 1. 

But leave we ourselves thus suffering, and come to speak of that we must 
be content to feel, the oppression of our enemies. Wherein we will consider 
the agents and the actions. 

The AiiEXTS are men : ' Thou hast caused men to ride,' &c. !Man is a 
sociable-living creature, and should converse with man in love and tranquil- 
lity. Man should be a supporter of man ; is he become an overthrower ? 
He should help and keep him up ; doth he ride over him and tread him 
under foot 1 O apostasy, not only from religion, but even from humanity ! 
Quid homini inimicissimum .? Homo,\ — The greatest danger that befalls man 
comes whence it should least come, from man himself. Caiera animantia, 
says Pliny, in sua genere, probe degunt, &c., — Lions fight not with lions ; ser- 
pents spend not their venom on serpents ; but man is the main suborner of 
mischief to Ids own kind. 

It is reported of the bees, that cegrotante una, lamentantur omnes, — when 
one is sick, they all mourn. And of sheep, that if one of them be faint, the 
rest of the flock will stand between it and the sun till it be revived. Only 
man to man is most pernicious. We know that a bird, yea, a bird of rapine, 
once fed a man in the wilderness, 1 Kings x\di. G ; that a beast, yea, a beast 
of fierce cnielty, spared a man in his den, Dan. vi. 22. Whereupon saith a 
learned father, Ferce parcunt, aves pascunt, homines scEviunt,X — The birds 
feed man, and the beasts spare him, but man rageth against him. Where- 
fore, I may well conclude, with Solomon, Prov. xvii. 12, ' Let a bear robbed 
of her whelps meet a man, rather than a fool in his foUy.' 

God hath hewn us all out of one rock, tempered all our bodies of one 
clay, and spirited our souls of one breath. Therefore, saith Augustine, sith 
■we proceed all out of one stock, let us all be of one mind. Beasts molest 
* De Falsa Sajjient., lib. iv. t Sen. X Cypr., Ser. vi. 



g^ THE KAGE OF OPPRESSION. [SeRMON VIL 

not their own kind, and birds of a feather fly lovingly together. Not only 
the blessed angels of heaven agree in mutual harmony, but even the very 
do-ils of hell are not di\'ided, lest they ruin their kingdom. We have one 
greater reason of unity and love observed than all the rest. For whereas 
God made nor all angels of one angel, nor all beasts of the great behemoth, 
nor all fishes of the huge leviathan, nor all birds of the majestical eagle, yet 
he made all men of one man. Let us then not jar in the disiDosition of our 
minds, that so agree in the composition of our natures. You see how inhu- 
man and unnatural it is for man to wrong man ; of his own kind, and, as it 
were, of his oavu Icin. — Thus for the agents. 

The ACTION is amplified in divers circumstances, climbing up by rough 
stairs to a high transcendency of oppression. It ariseth thus — 1. In riding. 
2. In riding over us. 3. In riding over our heads. 4. In driving us through 
fire and water. 

1. They lide. What need they mount themselves upon beasts, that have 
feet malicious enough to trample on us ? They have a ' foot of pride,' Ps. 
xxx\i. 11, from which David prayed to be delivered; a presumptuous heel, 
which they dare lift up against God ; and therefore a tyrannous toe, to spurn 
dejected man. They need not horses and mules, that can kick with the foot 
of a revengeful malice, Ps. xxxii. 9. 

2. Over us. The way is broad enough wherein they travel, for it is the 
devil's road. They might well miss the poor : there is room enough be- 
sides ; they need not ride over us. It were more brave for them to justle 
with champions that will not give them the way. Wt?. never contend for 
their path ; they have it without our envy, not without our pity. Why 
should they ride over us ? 

3. Over our heads. Is it not contentment enough to their pride to nde, 
to their malice to ride over us, but must they delight in bloodiness to ride 
over our heads ? Will not the breaking of our arms and legs, and such in- 
ferior linib.s, satisfy their indignation ? Is it not enough to rack our strength, 
to mock our innocence, to prey on our estates, but must they thirst after our 
bloods and lives? Quo tendit sceva libido ? — Whither will their madness 
run? 

But we must not tie ourselves to the letter. Here is a mystical or meta- 
phorical gradation of their cruelty. Their riding is proud ; their riding over 
us is malicious ; and their riding over our heads is bloody oppression. 

1. They lide. This phrase describes a vice compounded of two damnable 
ingredients, ])ride and tyranny. It was a part of God's fearful curse to re- 
bellious recidivation, Dcut. xxviii., that theu- enemies should ride and triumph 
over them, and they should come down very low under their feet. It is 
delivered for a notorious mark of the great ' whore of Babylon's ' pride, that 
bhe ' rides upon a scarlet-coloured beast,' Rev. xvii. 4. St Paul seems to 
api)ly the .s^imo word to oppression, 1 Thess. iv. 6, * that no man oppress his 
Inotlier.' The original iin^Bahin, to go upon him, climb on him, or tread 
him under foot. 

U bla.splienious height of villany ! not only, by false slanders, to betray 
a man's innocence, nor to lay \'i()lent hands upon his estate ; but to trip up 
his heels with frauds, or to lay him along with injuries, and then to trample 
on him ! And because the foot of man, for that should be soft and favour- 
in-, caiuirtt despatch him, to mount upon beasts, wild and savage affections, 
and t«i ride upon him. 

2. Over m. This argues their malice. It were a token of wilful spite 
for a horseman, in a great road, to refuse all way, and to ride over a poor 



Psalm LXVT. 12.] the rage of oppression, 85 

traveller. Such is the implacable malice of these persecutors. Isa. lix. 7, 
' Wasting and destruction are in their paths ;' yea, wasting and destruction 
are their paths. They have fierce looks and truculent hearts : their very 
path is ruin, and every print of their foot vastation. They neither reverence 
the aged, nor pity tlie sucking infant^ virgins cannot avoid their rapes, nor 
women with child their massacres. They go, they run, they stride, they 
ride ' over us.' 

The language of their lips is that which Babylon spake concerning Jeru- 
salem, Ps. cxxxviL 7, ' Down with it, down with it, even to the ground. 
Rase it, rase it, even to the foundation thereof.' Desolation sits in their 
eyes, and shoots out through those fiery windows the burning glances of 
waste, havoc, ruin : till they turn a land into soUtude, into a desert, and 
habitation for their fellow-beasts, and their worse selves. O unmerciful 
men ! that should be to mankind as God, but are more ragingly noxious 
than wolves. They have lost the nature, let them also lose the name of 
men. 

' Vix repperit unum, 
Talibus h multis, hominem consuitus Apollo.' 

But it is ever trae, optimi corruptio pesshna, — the fairest flowers putre- 
fied, stink worse than weeds : even an angel falling became a devil ; and 
man debauched strives to come as near this devil as he can. They should 
put their hands under our falling heads, and lift us up ; but they kick us 
down, and ride over us. 

3. Over our heads. This notes their bloodiness, unpacifiable but by our 
slaughters. The pressing, racking, or breaking of our inferior limbs con- 
tents not their malice : they must wound the most sensible and vital part, 
our heads. The Lord be blessed, that hath now freed us from these bloody 
tidings, and sent us peace with truth ! Yet can we not be forgetful of the 
past calamities in this land ; nor insensible of the present in other places. 
The time was when the Bonners and butchers rode over the faces of God's 
saints, and madefied the earth with their bloods, every drop whereof begot 
a new believer. "^Vhen they martyred the living Avith the dead ; burnt the 
impotent wife with the husband, who is content to die with him with whom 
she may not live, yea, rejoicing to go together to their Saviour : when 
they threw the new-born (yea, scarce-born) infant, dropping out of the 
mother's belly, into the mother's flames ; whom, if they had been Christians, 
they would first have christened, if not cherished ; — this was a fiery zeal 
indeed, set on fire with the fire of hell. They love fire still : they were 
then for faggots, they are now for powder. If these be catholics, there are 
no cannibals. They were then mounted on horses of authority, now they 
ride' on the wings of policy. 

Our comfort is, that though all these, whether persecutors of our fiuth 
or oppressors of our life, ride over our particular heads, yet we have all 
one Head, whom they cannot touch. They may massacre this corporal life, 
and spoil the local seat of it, whether in head or heart ; but our spiritual 
life, wliich lies and lives in one Head, Jesus Christ, they cannot reach. No 
hellish stratagems nor combined outrages, no human powers nor devilish 
principalities can touch that life ; for it is ' hid with Christ in God,' Col, 
iii. 3. 

Indeed this Head doth not only take their blows as meant at him, but 
he even suffers with us : Acts ix. 4, * Saul, why persecutest thou me V Saul 
strikes on earth ; Christ .Jesus suffers in heaven. There is more lively 
sense in the head than in other members of the body. Let but the toe ache. 



gg THE RAGE OF OPrRESSION. [SeRMON VII. 

and the head manifests by the countenance a sensible grief. The body of 
the church cannot suffer without the sense of our blessed Head. Thus saith 
Paul 2 Cor. I 5, ' The sufferings of Christ abound in us.' These afflictions 
are the showers that follow the great storm of his passion : Col. i. 24, ' We 
fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ in our flesh.' We 
must be content for him, as he was for us, to weep, and groan, and bleed, 
and die, that we may reign. If we sow not in tears, how shall we look to 
reap in joy '! Ps. cxxvi. 5. How shall we shine like stars in heaven, if we go 
not through the fiery trial ? or land at the haven of bliss, if we pass not the 
waves of this troublesome water 1 

You see riders ; but you will say. What is this to us 1 We have no such 
riders. Yes, many, too many ; even so many as we have oppressors, either 
by tongue or hand. Shall I name some of them ? 

The'nialicious slanderer is a perilous rider ; and he rides, like death, upon 
a pale horse, Rev. vi. 2, Envi/. Thus were the Pharisees mounted when they 
rude over Christ, even the Head of our heads. If Jesus will not be a Phari- 
see, they will nail liim to the cross. These venomous cantharides light upon 
God's fairest flowers, and strive either to blast them with their contumelious 
breaths, or to tread them under their maUcious feet. 

The griping usurer is a pestilent rider ; and he is mounted on a heavy 
jade. Mammon, or love of money. Every step of this beast wounds to the 
heart, and quasheth out the life-blood. Oh that this sordid beast of usury, 
with all his ponderous and unwieldy trappings, — bills, obligations, pawns, 
mortgages, — were throwni into a fire temporal, that the rider's converted soul 
might be saved from the fire eternal ! If any Alcibiades had authority and 
will to kindle such a fire in England as was once at Athens, I believe that 
no tears would be shed to quench it ; but the music of our peace would 
sound merrily to it, and the rather because there would be no more groans 
t<j disturb it. 

The destructive depopulator is another pestiferous rider. He is a light- 
horseman ; he can leap hedges and ditches, and therefore makes them in the 
midst of plam fields. He loves to ride in his own gTOund ; and for this 
purpose cxpclleth all neighbours. Though Solomon says, Eccles. v. 9, that 
'the king is served by the field that is tilled;' yet he, as if he were wiser 
than Solomon, promiseth to serve him better with grass. He posteth after 
the poor, and hunts them out of his lordship. He rides from town to town, 
from village to ^iIlage, from land to land, from house to house ; a doloso 
J'urlo ad judilicum latrocinium, and never rest tiU he hath rid to the devil. 

And tlicre is a fourth rider gallops after him amain, as if he had sworn 
not to be huidmost — the oppressing landlord. And he rides upon a horse 
that hath no pace but racking ; for that is the master's delight, racking of 
rents : and he hath two lacqueys or pages run by him — fines and carriages. 
Thus a.scended and attended, he rides over the heads and hearts of the poor 
tenants, that they can no more grow in wealth than corn can that is scat- 
tered in the highway ; for they, as that, are continually overridden by their 
merciless landlord. Let these riders take heed, lest the curses of the poor 
stumble their hor.ses, and break their necks. 

The churlish cormorant is a mischievous rider : he sits on a black jade, 
CnvftoHsness ; and rides only from market to market, to buy up grain when 
lie hath store to .sell : and so hatcheth up dearth in a year of plenty. Our 
land ia too full of these riders : they repine and complain of the unseason- 
ablenc.H.s of the weather, of the barrenness of the earth ; but they conceal the 
true cause, whereof their own souls are conscious, thcu* uucharitableness. 



Psalm LXVI. 12.] the kage of oppuessiox. 87 

The earth hath never been so frozen as their consciences ; nor is the ground 
so fruitless of plenty as they of pity. This is not mala terra, bona gens ; 
but mala gens, bona terra, — we have bad minds, good materials. The earth 
hath not scanted her fruits, but our concealings have been close, our en- 
havacings ravenous, our transportations lavisL The Lord sends grain, and 
the devil sends garners. The imprecations of the poor shall follow these 
riders, and the cars of God .shall attend their cries. 

There is the proud gallant, that comes forth like a May-morning, decked 
with all the glory of art ; and his adorned lady, in her own imagination a 
second Flora : and these are riders too, but closer riders. The world with 
them runs upon wheels ; and they, hastening to overtake it, outrun it. 
Their great revenues will not hold out with the year : the furniture on their 
backs exceeds their rent-day. Hence they are fain to wring the poor 
sponges of the country, to quench the burning heat of the city. Therefore 
say the couutr3anen, that their carts are never worse employed than when 
they do service to coaches. 

There is the fraudulent tradesman, that rides no further than between the 
burse and the shop, on the back of a quick-spirited hobby called Cheating : 
and whereas greatness presseth the poor to death with their weight, this man 
trips up their heels with his cunning. They have one God at the church, 
another at their shops ; and they will fill their coffers, though they fester 
their consciences. This rider laughs men in the face while he treads on 
their hearts ; his tongue knows no other pace but a false gallop. 

The bribe-groping officer, in what court soever his dition lies, is an op- 
pressing rider : they that would have their suits granted, must subject their 
necks to his feet, and let him ride over them. He confutes the old allegory 
of Justice, that is usually dra\Mi blind, for he will see to do a petitioner ease 
by the light of his angels.* Nothing can unlock his lips but a golden key. 
This rider's horse, like that proud emperor's, must be shod mth silver ; and 
the poor man must buy of him, and that at a dear rate, his own treading on. 

I come to him last, whom I have not least cause to think upon, the 
church-defrauder, that rides upon a wmged horse, as if he would fly to the 
devU, called Sacrilege. He may appear in the shape of a Protestant, but he 
is the most absolute recusant ; for he refuseth to pay God his own. He 
wears the name of Christ for the same purpose the Papists wear the cross, 
only for a charm. These are the merchants of souls; the pirates of God's 
ship, the church ; the underminers of religion, they arc still practising trains 
to blow it up. They will not pay their Levites ; their Levites must paj'- 
them. They will not part with their cures, whereof they have the donation,- 
but upon purchase. But it is no wonder if they sell the cures, that have 
first sold their souls. The charitable man dreams of building churches, but 
starts to think that these men will pull them down again. 

There is yet one other rider, though he spurs post, must not pass by me 
unnoted : the truth-hating Jesuit, that comes trotting into England on a red 
horse, like Murder, dipped and dyed in the blood of souls ; and, if he can 
reach it, in the blood of bodies too. Neither doth he thirst so much after 
ordinary blood, that runs in common veins, as after the blood-royal. There 
is no disease, saith one, that may so properly be called the king's-evil. He 
is the devil's make-bait, and his chief officer to set princes together by 
the ears. He sits like the raven on a dead bough, and when the lion and 
leopard conae forth to fight, he .sounds out a point of war, hoping whichsoever 
falls, his carcase shidl serve him for a prey to feed on. His main study is to 
* The coin so called.— Ed. 



gg THE RAGE OF OPPRESSION, [SeRMOX VIL 

fill the schools with clamours, the church with errors, the churchyard with 
corpses, and all Christian States with tragedies. The Seminaries were once 
like that strange weed, tobacco, at the first coming up ; but here and there 
one entertained in some great man's house, now may you find them smok- 
inf' in every cottage. They have deservingly increased the disgrace of that 
reU'non ; so that now, in the common censure, a Papist is but a new word 
for a traitor. They have received their errand at Tiber, and they deliver it 
at Tyburn. 

There are many other riders, so properly ranking themselves in this num- 
ber, and assuming this name, which, for modesty's sake, I bury in silence ; 
considering that (jucedam vitia nominaia docentur, — some sins are taught by 
reporting their names. 

But I perceive a prevention : I have not time enough to end our misery, 
much less to enter the speech of our mercy. The journey they make us take 
through fire and water requires a more punctual tractation than your pa- 
tience will now admit. Two short uses shall send away our oppressors with 
fear, ourselves with joy. 

1. For them. Let all these tyrannous riders know, that there is one rides 
after them, — a great one, a just one, — even he that ' rides on the wings of 
the wind, and the clouds are the dust of his feet : ' he that hath a bridle for 
these Sennacheribs, and strikes a snaffle through their jaws, and turns their 
violence with more ease than the wind doth a vane on the house-top. Then 
' a horse shall be but a vain thing to save a man,' saith the Psalmist. Horse 
and master shall fall together. 

Then the covetous Nimrod, that rode on the black beast. Oppression, shall 
be thundered down from his proud height, and the jade that carried him 
shall dash out his brains, and lie heavier than a thousand talents of lead on 
his conscience. His oppression shall damn himself, as before it did damn 
others. It was to them a momentary vexation, it shall be to him an eternal 
pressure of torment. 

Then the blood-drawing usurer, that rode so furiously on his jade, Ex- 
tortion, shall (if timely deprecation and restitution stay hhn not) run full 
butt against the gates of hell, and break his neck. And he that at the bars 
of temporal judgments cried out for nothing but justice, justice, and had it, 
shall now cry louder for mercy, mercy, and go ^vithout it. 

And let the cormorant, that rides on the back of Engrossing, whose soul is 
like Erisicathon s bowels in the poet — 

'Quodque urbibus esse, 
Qaodque satis poterat populo, non sufficit uni ' — 

that starves men to feed vermin— know, that there is a pursuivant flies after 
him, that .shall give him an eternal arrest, and make him leave both hojreum 
and hordeitm, his barn and his barley, to go to a place where is no food but 
iirc and anguish. 

And the h.fty gallant, that rides over the poor with his coaches and 
carochcs, drawn by two wild horses. Pride and Luxury; let him take heed, 
lest he meet with a wind that shall take oflf his chariot-wheels, as Pharaoh 
wa« puruahed, Exod. xiv., and drown horses, and chariots, and riders; not 
m the ]{^d Soa, but in that infernal lake whence there is no redemption. 

Let all these nders beware lest he that rides on the wings of vengeance, 
with a sword drawn in his hand, and that will cat flesh and drink blood ; 
that will make such haste in the pursuit of his enemies that he will not bait 
or refresh hunsclf by the way; lest this God, before they have repented, 



Psalm LXVI. 12.] the kage of oppressiox. 89 

overtake them. Ps. xlv. 4, 5, ' Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, most 
mighty ; and in thy majesty ride prosperously,' &c. ; ' and thy right hand 
sluall teach thee terrible things.' Then shall the ' Lord remember the chil- 
dren of Edom in the day of Jerusalem,' Ps. cxxxxii. 7, 8 ; and * reward tliem 
as they served us.' Lo, now, the end of these riders : Ps. xxxvi. 11, ' There 
are the workers of iniquity fallen : they are cast down, and shall not be able 
to rise.' Zech. x. 5, * The riders on horses shall be confounded.' 

2. For us. Though passion possess our bodies, let ' patience possess our 
souls.' The law of our profession binds us to a warfare ; patiendo vincinius, 
our troubles shall end, our victory is eternal. Hear David's triumph, Ps. 
xviii. 38-40, ' I have wounded them, that they were not able to rise ; they 
are fallen under my feet. Thou hast subdued under me those that rose up 
against me. Thou hast also given me the neck of mine enemies,' &c. They 
have wounds for their wounds; and the treadcrs down of the poor are 
trodden down by the poor. The Lord will subdue those to us that would 
have subdued us to themselves ; and though for a short time they rode over 
our heads, yet now at last we shall everlastingly tread upon their necks. Lo, 
then, the reward of humble patience and confident hope. Spei-amns et super- 
amus. Deut. xxxii. 31, ' Our God is not as their God, even our enemies being 
judges.' Ps. XX. 7, ' Some put their trust in chariots, and some in horses.' 
But no chariot hath strength to oppose, nor horse swiftness to escape, when 
God pursues. Ver. 8, ' They are brought down, and fallen ; we are risen, 
and stand upright.' Their trust hath deceived them ; down they fall, and 
never to rise. Our God hath helped us ; we are risen, not for a breathing 
space, but to stand upright for ever. 

Teutations, persecutions, oppressions, crosses, infamies, bondage, death, 
are but the way wherein our blessed Saviour went before us ; and many 
saints followed him. Behold them with the eyes of faith, now mounted 
above the clouds, trampling all the vanities of this world under their glori- 
fied feet j standing on the battlements of heaven, and wafting us to them 
with the hands of encouragement. They bid us fight, and we shall conquer ; 
suffer, and we shall reign. And as the Lord Jesus, that once sufi'ered a re- 
proachful death at the hands of his enemies, now sits at the right hand of 
the Majesty in the highest places, far above all prmcipalities and powers, 
thrones and dominations, ' till his enemies be made his footstool ;' so one day 
they that in their haughty pride and mercUess oppressions rode over our 
heads, shall then lie under our feet. ' Through thee will we push down our 
enemies ; through thee will we tread them under that rise up against us.' 
At what time yonder glorious sky, coslum stellatiim, which is now our ceiling 
over our heads, shall be but a pavement under our feet. To which glory, he 
that made ua by his word, and bought us by the blood of his Son, seal us 
up by his blessed Spirit ! Amen. 



THE VICTOEY OF PATIENCE; 



THE EXPIRATION OF MALICE. 



We went through fire and through water; hut thou hroughtest us out into a 
wealthij place. — Psalm LXVI. 12. 

I DID not, in the former sermon, draw out the oppressing cruelty of these 
persecutors to the utmost scope and period of their malice, nor extend their 
impium impenum to the furthest limit and determination thereof. There is 
yet one glimpse of their stinking candle before the snuff goes out ; one groan 
ere their malice expire. ' We went through fire and water.' 

The Papists, when they hear these words, ' went through fire and water,' 
stiirtlc, and cry out, Purgatory ! direct proofs for jjurgatory ! With as good 
reason as Sedulius,* on that dream of Pharaoh's ofiicer, Gen. xl. 10, ' A vine 
was before me, and in the vine were three branches,' says that the vine 
signifies St Francis, and the three branches the three orders derived from 
him. And as a Pope, on that of Samuel, 1 Sam. xv. 22, ' Behold, to 
obey is better than sacrifice ; and stubbornness is as idolatry,' infers, that 
not to obey the apostolic see of Rome was idolatry by the mtness of Samuel. 
Or as one writes of St Francis, that because it is said, ' Unless you become 
as little children, you cannot enter, into the kingdom of heaven,' he com- 
manded one Massaius to tumble round like a little child that he might enter. 
Or as when the contention was betwixt the services of Ambrose and Gregory, 
wliich should take place ; by the common consent, both the mass-books were 
laid on the altar of St Peter, expecting some decision of that doubt by reve- 
lation. The church-doors being opened in the morning, Gregory's missal- 
book was rent and torn into many pieces, but Ambrose'slay whole and open 
upon the altar. Which event, in a sober exposition, would have signified 
the inxss of Gregory cancelled and abolished, and that of Ambrose authentical 
and allowed. iJiit the wise Pope Adrian expounds it thus : that the rending 
and Hcatti ring of Gregory's missal intended that it should be dispersed over 
all the Ghri.stian world, and only received as canonical.t Or as that simple 
friar, that finding Maria in the Scripture, used plurally for seas, cried out, 

• AihjI. contr. Alcor. Fraucia. lib. ii., c. 1. f Jacob, de Vorag. in Vita Gregor. 



PriALM LXVI. 12.] TUE VICTORY OF PATIENCE. 91 

in the ostentation of his lucky wit, that he had found hi the Old Testament 
the name of Maria for the A'^irgin Mary. 

But I purpose not to waste time m this place, and among such hearers, in 
the confutation of this ridiculous folly; resting myself on the judgment of a 
worthy learned man in our church,* that purgatory is nothing else but a my- 
thology, a moral use of strange fables. As when Pius the (Second had sent 
abroad his indulgences to all that would take arms agauist the Turk, the 
Turk wrote to him to call in his ' epigrams ' again. Or as Bellarmine ex- 
cused Prudentius, when he appoints certam hoUdays in hell, that he did but 
poetise. So all their fabulous discourse of purgatory is but epigrams and 
poetry ; a more serious kmd of jest, wherein they laugh among themselves 
how they cozen the world, and fill the Pope's coffers, who for his advantage, 
ens non esse facit, non ens fore. So that if Ptoffensist gather out of this 
place that in purgatory there is great store of water, — ' We went through fire 
and water,' — we may oppose against him Sir Thomas i\Iore, who proves from 
Zech. ix. that there is no water at all : ' I have sent forth thy prisoners out 
of the pit, where is no water.' Set then the frost again.st the rain, and you 
may go in purgatory dry-shod. If there be nothing left but fire, I make no 
question but there is not a spark difference betwixt purgatory and hell. 

I should narrow up the scope and liberty of God's Spirit, if I should here tie 
my discourse to the letter, ' AVe went through fire and through water.' It is 
an effect of our persecution, and may thus be resolved : We were by their 
malice driven to great extremity. Fire and water are two elements which, 
they say, have no mercy ; yet either of them more than our oppressors. The 
time -was that a Pted Sea divided the waters, and gave dry passage to the 
children of Israel and of God, Exod. xiv. Whereof the Psalmist here sings, 
ver. 6, ' He turned the sea into dry land : they went through the flood on 
foot; there did we rejoice in him.' And the fire in an oven whose heat was 
septupled touched not those three servants of the Lord. But these more 
incensed and insensible creatures have no mercy, nor can they invent a 
cruelty which they forbear to execute. 

Some translations have it, ' W« went into fire and into water ; ' which 
extends their persecution to our deaths, and comprehends the latitude of 
mortal martjrrdom. And thus understood, the next words of the deliverance, 
' Thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place,' must be meant of om- glory in 
heaven. But the evident circumstances following deny that interpretation ; 
therefore I adhere to the last and best translation, ' We went through fire 
and through water.' 

Wherein two things may seem to be imported and imparted to our con- 
sideration : — First, We went. They went, so conveniently as they might, 
and so conscionably as they durst, from the hands of their persecutors. 
Secondly, The hard exigents they were driven to, when to pass through fire 
and water was but a less evil compared with that they eschewed. 

' Per mare mactantes fiigimus, per saxa, per ignes.' 

1. From the former, observe, That it may be lawful in time of persecution 
to fly. This was granted, yea, in some respects, enjoined by Christ. But 
must be warily understood ; and the rule, in a word, may be this : When 
our suffering may stand the church of God in better stead than our flying, 
we must then lose our lives, to save God's honour and our own souls. To 
deny God this fealty and tribute of our bloods, when his glory hath use of 
such a service at our hands, is not only to deny him that is his own by many 

* Paeudo Martyr., p. 106, de Purgator, t Coutr. Luther., art. xxxvlL 



f)2 THE VICTORY OK PATIENCE. [SeRMON VIII. 

dear titles,— of creation, wliicli was ex spintu oris, by the breath of his mouth ; 
and of rciloinption, which was ex sanguine cordis, by the blood of his heart, — 
but t.) withdraw this justly required testimony is to betray and crucify him, 
and scarce inferior to their perjury whose false mtness condemned him. 

In this we restore to God his talent with profit ; not only our own soul 
he "ave us, but as many more as our example works upon and wins to him. 
WTien the people admired the great bounty of John, called Eleemosynarius, 
he answered them, brethren, I have not yet shed my blood for you, as I 
ought to dt) for my Master's sake and testimony. In the early morning of 
the world did Abel dedicate martyrdom without example ; and the Lord 
did approve it by accepting Abel's sacrifice, and Abel for a sacrifice.* I 
have read that a worthy martyr of ours, Dr Rowland Taylor, wrote first with 
ink, and after A\-ith his blood, that it is not enough to profess the gospel of 
Christ ad ignem exclusive, but we must cleave to it even ad ignem inclusive. 
This was an honour that Christ accepted presently after his birth, Matt, ii., 
the holocaust or hecatomb of many innocent infants, murdered and martyred 
for his sake. 

So that suffering for Jesus is a thing to which he promiseth an ample reward. 
' No man shall forsake parents, or friends, or inheritance, or living, or life, 
for my sake, but he shall have ' in exchange ' a hundred-fold ' so much com- 
fort ' in this life, and in the world to come life everlasting.' But all times 
and occasions yield not warrant for such a service. Much less can the Semi- 
naries, dying in England for treason, arrogate to themselves the glory of 
martyrdom, though a vicious affectation of it hath hardened them to such a 
prodigality of their bloods. They come not to maintain the verity of Scrip- 
tures, but the vanity of traditions ; the entangling perplexities of school-men ; 
the obscure, tetrical, and contradictory assertions of Popes, who command 
them to seal that with their lives which not only is in involved being, but 
in future contingence — whatsoever the Roman church, that is, the Pope, shaU 
hereafter constitute or declare. 

2. From the latter words, through fire and water, observe, That the chil- 
dren of Clod must not expect a gentle and soft entertainment in this world, 
but' hard exigents; when to fly from their enemies they are fain to pass 
througli fire and water. Affliction for the gospel is called by Paul, Gal. vi. 
17, ' the marks of the Lord Jesus.' The world often sets a man as those 
three servants of God were set in Daniel's prophecy, Dan. iii. On the one 
side, a harmony of sweet music, the cornet, flute, &c. ; on the other side, a 
burning furnace, heated above ordinary seven times. Worship the idol, and 
enjoy the delight of music; not worship it, and be cast into the fiery oven. 
Join with the world in his ungodly customs, and the world will love, feast, 
tickle your ears with music. Separate yourselves, and it will hate you : 
John XV. 19, ' If you were of the world, the world would love his own : but 
because I liavc chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hatcth you.' 
Thou shalt be like Abraham's ram. Gen. xxii. 13, tied in a bush of thorns; 
from which thou can.st not extricate thyself till thou be made a sacrifice. 

I have read that Caligula the tyTant being dead, there were found in his 
closet duo libelli,~o\\c called a sword, the other a dagger ; wherein many 
wore by name pricked for death, and desthied to it in the emperor's bloody 
uitention. Presumptuous enemies so cast lots on a nation before they have 
It. and talk of dividing a ipoil ere they come at it. Judges v. 30, ' Have 
thry not sped ? have they not divided the prey ? ' So the proud adversary 
in that wonderful year '«S, that came with an invincible navy and impla- 
* Olirj'soatom. 



Psalm LXVI. 12.] the victory of patience. 93 

cable fury, the ensigns of whose ships were Victoria, viclona, brought ready 
with them instruments of torture, as if the land of peace and mercy had in 
it no such engines of cruelty, and swallowed down an abundant hope of our 
desolation. They threw at dice for our wives and daughters, lands and vine- 
)'ards, houses and heritages, shires and kingdom. They purposed to drive 
us through fire and water, but fire and water was their destruction. Fire 
broke the sinews of their combination, and the waves devoured both their 
hopes and themselves. The godly at last shall be as mighty men, Zech. x. 
5, ' treading down their enemies in the mire of the streets in the battle ; and 
they shall fight, because the Lord is with them.' 

The grievousness of these afflictions must teach us two useful lessons — 
1. Patience ; 2. Prayer. 

1. Patience. Acts v. 41, the apostles 'departed from the presence of 
the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for the 
name of Christ.' A true Christian rejoiceth in his tribulation, especially 
when it is for his Sa\aour's sake, and takes greater pleasure in his iron fetters 
than a proud courtier doth of his golden chain. Rev. xiv. 1 3, ' Blessed are 
they that die in the Lord.' But if it be so blessed a thing to die in the 
Lord, what is it to die for the Lord? Ps. cxvi. 15, ' Precious in the sight 
of the Lord is the death of his saints.' It was Harding's invective against 
our reverend, learned, and precious JeweU, that Protestants were worse than 
the devil ; for whereas bread and water and the cross could scare away devils, 
princes could be rid of them by no means but fire. To whom that excellent 
bishop answers. That though it pleased his malicious humour to make but a 
jest of the blood of God's saints, yet it was no more ignominy for lambs to 
suft'er what Christ sufi'ered, than it was praise and credit for wolves to betray 
liim, as Judas did. 

Our patience is our crown and others' conversion. Eusebius 'from Cle- 
ment reporteth, that when a wicked accuser had brought St James to con- 
demnation, seeing his Christian fortitude, he was touched in conscience, 
confessed himself a Christian, and so was taken to execution with him. 
Where earnestly beseeching St James to forgive him, he after a little pause 
kissed him, and said, ' Peace be to thee, brother,' and they were beheaded 
together. blessed patience ! which not only gets honour to ourselves, 
but brings others to salvation, and in all glorifies God. 

2. I^rayer. This was the apostles' refuge in the time of affliction, Acts 
ii. 24. Bernard, in a fiction, doth excellently express this necessity, enforce 
this duty. He supposeth the kings of Babylon and Jerusalem (by whom he 
means the world and the church) to be at war one against the other. Dur- 
ing this hostility, a soldier of Jerusalem was fled to the castle of Justice. 
Siege was laid to this castle, and a multitude of enemies environed and en- 
trenched it round. There lies near this soldier a faint-hearted coward called 
Fear. This speaks nothing but discomfort, and when Hope would step in 
to give him courage. Fear thrusts her out of doors. Whilst these two oppo- 
sitcs. Fear and Hope, stand debating, the Christian soldier resolves to appeal 
to the direction of sacred Wisdom, who was chief councillor to the captain 
of the castle. Justice. Hear Wisdom speak : Dost thou know, saith she, 
that the God whom we serve is able to deliver us. Is he not the Lord of 
hosts, even the Lord mighty in battle? We will despatch a messenger to 
him with information of our necessity. 

Fear replies, What messenger? Darkness is on the face of the world; 
our walls arc begirt with an armed troop, which are not only strong as lions, 
but also watchful as dragons. What messenger can either escape through 



94 THE VICTORY OF PATIEXCE. [SeRMON VIII. 

such a host, or find the way into so remote a country 1 Wisdom calls for 
Uoi^e, and chargeth her with all speed to despatch away her old messenger. 
Hope' calls to Prayer, and says, Lo here a messenger speedy, ready, trusty, 
knowing the way. Ready, you cannot sooner call her than she comes ; 
spcedy,°she flies faster than eagles, as fast as angels ; trusty, what embassage 
soever you put in her tongue she delivers with faithful secresy. She knows 
the way to the court of Mercy, and she will never faint till she come to the 
chamber of the royal presence. 

Prayer hath her message, away she flies, borne on the sure and swift 
wings of faith and zeal ; "Wisdom having given her a charge, and Hope a bless- 
iug.° Finding the gate shut, she knocks and cries, ' Open, ye gates of right- 
eousness; and be ye open, ye everlasting doors of glory, that I may enter, 
and deliver to the long of Jenisalem my petition.' Jesus Christ hears her 
knock, opens the gate of mercy, attends her suit, promiseth her infallible 
comfort and redress. 

Back returns Prayer, laden with the news of consolation. She hath a 
promise, and she delivers it into the hand of Faith : that were our enemies 
more innumerable than the locusts in Egypt, and more strong than the giants, 
the sons of Anak, yet Power and Mercy shall fight for us, and we shall be 
delivered. Pass we then through fire and water, through aU dangers and 
difficulties, yet we have a messenger, holy, happy, accessible, acceptable to 
God, that never comes back without comfort — Prayer. 

And here fitly I will end our misery, and come to God's mercy. Desola- 
tion hath held us long, but our consolation is eternal. ' But thou broughtest 
us out into a wealthy place.' 

The song, you see^ is compounded like music ; it hath acutiim and grave, 
high and low, sharp and flat. ' Thou causedst men to ride over us. But 
thou broughtest us out.' Sorrow and joy, trouble and peace, sour and sweet, 
come by vicissitudes. Invicem cedunt dolor et voluptas. This discord in 
music hurts not, but graceth the song. Whiles grief and pleasure keep this 
alternation in our life, they at once both exercise our patience and make 
more welcome our joys. If you look for the happiness of the wicked, you 
shall find it in pranis, at the beginning ; but if you would learn what be- 
comes of the righteous, intelUges in ncvissimis, you shall know it at last. 
Pa. xxxvii. 37, ' Mark the upright man, and behold the just : for the end of 
that man is peace.' We were sore oppressed, ' but thou broughtest us out 
into a wealthy j)lace.' 

Every word is sweetly significant, and amplifies God's mercy to us. Four 
especially are remarkable:—!. The deliverer; 2. The deliverance; 3. The 
delivered ; and, 4. Their felicity or blessed advancement. So there is in the 
deliverer, aliquid cehitudinis, Thou; in the delivery, certitudinis, brought 
out; in the delivered, solitudinis, lis; in the happiness, pleniiudinis, into 
a wealthy place. There is highness and lowness, sureness and fulness. The 
deliverer is great, the deliverance certain, the distress grievous, the exaltation 
glorious. Thert! is yet a first word, that like a key unlocks this golden 
gate of mercy, a veruntavun : — 

But.— This \svox respirationis, a gasp that fctcheth back again the very 
life of comfort. ' But thou broughtest,' Ac. We were fearfully endangered 
into the hands of our eiiomies ; they rode and trode upon us, and drove us 
throu-h hard perplexities : ' But thou,' &c. If there had been a full point 
or period at our misery, if those gulfs of persecution had quite swallowed us, 
and all our light of comfort had been thus smothered and extinguished, we 
might have cried, Periit spes nostra, yea, 2)eriit salus nostra.— Om hope, our 



Psalm LXVI. 12.] the victory of patience. 95 

help is quite gone. He had mocked us that woukl have spoken, Be of good 
cheer. This same hut is like a happy oar, that turns our vessel from the 
rocks of despair, and lands it at the haven of comfort. ' But,' <tc. 

Thou. — Thou only, without help or succour of either man or angel ; that 
art able to save with a few as well as with many ; that art ' a man of war,' 
Exod. XV. 3, and comest armed against thine enemies, with a spear of wratlx 
and a sword of vengeance : thou, of whose greatness tbere is no end, no 
limits, no determination : thou, O Lord, without any partner either to share 
thy glory or our thanks : ' thou broughtcst us out.' 

Thou of thine ovsti goodness, so well as by thy own greatness, hast de- 
livered us. No merit of ours procured, or deserved this mercy at thy hands ; 
but our freedom comes only by thy majesty, of thy mercy. Here were no 
arms of flesh, nor armies of angels, in this work of our redemption ; but 
' thou hast brought us out,' that we might praise thy name. Therefore we 
say, ' Bless the Lord, O our souls : O Lord, thou art very great, thou art 
clothed with honour and majesty,' Ps. civ. \. 

Eduxisti : Broughtest out. — Great works become a great God. Oi^era 
testantur de me, saith our Saviour, — ' My works bear witness of me.' I heal 
the sick, cleanse the leprous, give sight to the blind, raise the dead, cast out 
devils. Will you not believe, ye carnal eyes, unless you see 1 WUl you 
trust your five senses above the four Gospels ? ' Come then, and see the 
works of God.' See works : not a fancy, speculation, or deceiving shadow ; 
but real, visible, acted, accomplished works. Eduxisti. Sensus asseiisiis. 
Let demonstration convince you ; ' The snare is broken, and we are delivered.' 
The Lord works patenter and patenter. There is not only manifold mercy, 
but manifest mercy, in his doings. He ' brought us out.' 

When the ungodly see us so low brought, that persecutors ride over our 
heads, they are ready to say, 'Where is now their God?' Behold, hie est 
Deus, — our God is here, where there was need of him ; opus Deo, a work fit 
for the Deity to perform. Misery had wrapped and entangled us ; the wicked 
hands had tied us, as the Philistines did Samson, with the bands of death. Here 
then was dignus vindice nodus, — a knot worthy the finger of God to untie. 
Ps. cii. 20, ' He looked down from the height of his sanctuary : from heaven 
did the Lord behold the earth.' For what purpose ? ' To hear the groan- 
ing of the prisoner : to loose those that are appointed to death.' Behold, 
the waters went over our soul, yet we were not drowned. Malice had doomed 
us to the fire ; but our comfort is, nihil jMestatis in nos habuisse ignem, — that 
the fire had not power over us. They trod us under their cruel insultations, 
but the Lord hath hfted us up. ' The Lord of hosts was with us : the God 
of Jacob was our refuge,' Ps. xlvi 1 1 . 

Us. — To this act of God, if we tie the subject wherein he works, and knit 
to eduxisti, nos, — which I called verbum solitudinis, a word of former 
wretchedness and calamity, — we shall find our misery a fit subject for God's 
mercy ; especially if you set the others' malice against our meekness, their 
wickedness against our weakness, the persons whom God delivers, and the 
persons from whom, will greatly commend the mercy of our deliverance. 

It is a pleasure to God to have his strength perfected in our infirmity. 
AVlien the danger is most violent in its own nature and our sense, then is his 
helping arm most welcome. Isa. xvii. 11, * In the day of grief and of des- 
perate sorrow, the harvest shall be great ;' a plentiful crop of joy. Qui Deus 
est noster, Deus est salutis ; Ps. Ixviii. 20, ' He that is our God is the God 
of salvation ; and unto God the Lord belong the issues from death.' He 
delights to have us say in tliis deep extremity, Eduxisti, ' Thou hast brought 



QQ THE VICTORY OF PATIENCE. [SeRMON VIII. 

US out.' When Jonah was taken up by the mariners, put from the succour 
of the ship, no help in any rocks, nor mercy in the waters ; neither means 
nor desire to escape by swimming, — for he yields liimself into the jaws of 
death with as mortified affoction as if a lump of lead had been thrown into 
the sea, — a man would have thought that salvation itself could not have 
siived Jonah. Yet Jonah shall not die. Here is now a delivery fit for God, 
a cure for the almighty hand to undertake. 

Man's extremity is God's opportunity. Distressed desire is importunate. 
Ps. cii. 13, ' It is time that thou have mercy upon us ; yea, the time is come.' 
But if God do not presently answer, we are ready to pant out a groan of 
despair, ' The time is past.' If our importunity prevail not, we think all op- 
portunity is gone. But God says, Tenqms nondum venit, — The time is not 
yet. God wjiits the maturity of the danger, the more to increase his honour. 
As Alexander cheered himself when he should fight with men and beasts^ 
haughty enemies, and huge elephants : Tandem far animo meo penmlum 
viJeo, — I see at last a danger somewhat equal to my mind. WUl you hear 
when this time is come 1 John xi, 21, Martha tells Christ, * Master, if thou 
hadst been here, my brother had not died.' Christ knew that before : ver. 
1.5, 'Lazarus is dead; and I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, 
that you might believe.' Observe the different thoughts of God and man. 
Martha is sorry, Christ is glad. She thought that the time of help was 
past ; Christ thought that the time was not opportune tiU now. Jairus's 
servant comes and tells him, Mark v. 35, ' Thy daughter is dead ; trouble the 
Master no further.' This was the word Christ expected to hear ; and now 
he says, ' Be not afraid, only believe.' Hear the Israelites' desperate com- 
plaint. The waters of the sea roar before their ftices ; the wheels of the 
chariots rattle beliind their backs ; hereon they cry to Moses, Exod. xiv. 11, 
'Were there no graves in Egypt, that thou hast brought us hither to die?' 
Now saith Moses, ' Fear not, stand still, and see the salvation of God.' 

From that which hath been spoken, and that which follows, we may ob- 
serve two works of God's mercy : wliich consists — 1. Removendo ; 2. Promo- 
vetido ; the one rcmovmg away much evil, the other preferring to much good. 
Eduxisti, shews his kindness in freeing us from calamity ; in locum opiden- 
tum, his goodness in exalting us to dignity. The former is an act of deliver- 
ance, the latter of advancement. So there is terminus h quo, from whence 
We are freed ; and terminus ad quern, to which we are exalted. 

1. Fur the former, we have God here educentem, bringing out of trouble. 
Soniftiines we find God ducentem, leading, guiding, directing : ' Wilt not 
thi'u, O Lord, go forth with our hosts?' And, ' he led them through the 
wUdomess, by the hand of Moses and Aaron.' Sometimes inducentem : 
ver. 11,' Thou broughtest us into the net ; thou hast laid affliction upon our 
loin.s.' Sometimes adducentem : ' Thou, Lord, hast brought us home to 
thyself,' ic. Sometimes reducentem: Ps. cxxvi. 4, ' Turn again our captivity, 
O Lord, as the streams in the south.' Often educentem: Ps. cv 43, 'He 
brought forth his jjooplc with joy, and his chosen with gladness.' Never 
aedurnUnn, l)oguiHiig, deceiving, causing to err; for that is opus diahoU, 
who is the accuser and seducer of men. 

2. For the latter : into a wealthy place. The greatness of our felicity doth 
far transcend the gricvousness of our past misery. The dimension of our 
bfight exceeds that of our dci)th ; neither did affliction ever bring it so low, 
as our elevation hath advanced us high. Hereon St Paul, Rom. viii. 18, 
' The sufferings of tMs present time are not worthy to be compared with the 



PhALM LXVI. 12. J THE VICTORY OF PATIEXCE. 97 

glory which shall be revealed in us,' whether we compare their strength 
or their length. 

(1.) For their vigour or strength; the affliction of man, in tlie greatest 
extremity that he can lay it on man, is but finite as the atilicter. The blow 
comes but from an arm of flosli, and therefore can wound but flesh. Yield 
the extension of it to reach so far as any pos.'sible malice can drive it, yet it 
can but rack the body, distend the joints, sluice out the blood, and give 
liberty to the imprisoned soul : which soul they cannot strike. Therefore 
saith Christ, ' Fear not him that hath power over the body ' only, not over 
the soul. And even in the midst of this dire persecution, God can either 
quite deliver us, that the storm shall bow over our heads, and hurt us not ; 
or if he suffers us to sutler that, yet he will so qualify the heat of it, that the 
cool refresliing of liis blessed Spirit inwardly to the conscience shall in a 
inanner extinguish the torment. But now this ' wealthy place,' the spring of 
joy that succeeds this winter of anguish, is illimited, inexpressible, infinite : 
so strongly guarded with an almighty power, that no robber violently, nor 
thief subtlely, can steal it from us. Some pleasure is mixed with that pam, 
but no pain is incident to this pleasure. There was some laughter among 
those tears, but there shall be no tears in this laughter ; for ' tears shall be 
quite wiped from our eyes.' By how much then the power of God transcends 
man's, yea, God's mercy man's malice, by so much shall our rejoicing ex- 
ceed our passion. By how much the glorious city of heaven, walled with 
jasper and pure gold, shining as brass,* Eev. xxi. 12, 18, is stronger than the 
undefenced and naked cottage of this transient world ; our future comforts 
arise, in measure, pleasure, and security, above our past distress. — Thus for 
strength. 

(2.) If we compare their length, we shall find an infinite inequality. Paul 
calls affliction momentary, glory eternal, 2 Cor. iv. 17. Time shaU deter- 
mine the one, and that a short time, a very winter's day ; but the other is 
above the wheels of motion, and therefore beyond the reach of time. ' For 
a moment, in mine anger,' saith the Lord, ' I did hide my face from thee ; 
but with everlasting mercy I have had compassion on thee.' Nothing but 
eternity can make either joy or sorrow absolute. He can brook his imprison- 
ment that knows the short date of it ; and he finds poor content in his plea- 
sure that is certain of a sudden loss. We know that our pilgrimage is not 
long through this valley of tears and miserable desert ; but our Canaan, 
home, inheritance, is a wealthy place : glorious for countenance, blessed for 
continuance ; wealthy, without want ; stable, without alteration ; a constant 
mansion, an immoveable kingdom. Unto which our Lord Jesus in his ap- 
pointed time bring us ! To whom, with the Father and Spirit of consola- 
tion, be all praise and glory for ever. Amen. 

• Glass. -Ea 



vol* I. 



GOD'S HOUSE; 

OR, 

THE PLACE OF PRAISES. 



I tvill go into thy house with hurnt-oferings : I ivill ixiy thee my vovs.-— 
rsALM LXVI. 13. 

The former verse connexed with this demonstrate, with words of life, David's 
affliction and affection. 

His affliction, to be overridden with persecutors; his affection, to bless 
Gud for his deliverance. Great misery, taken away by great mercy, requires 
great thankfuhicss : ' I will go into thy,' &c. 

Before vvc put this song into parts, or derive it into particulars, two ge- 
neral things must be considered : the matter, or substance ; and the manner, 
or form. 

■The matter and substance of the verse is thankfulness ; the manner and 
fi»rni, rcsohition. The whole fiibric declares the former ; the fashion of the 
building, the latter. The tenor of all is praising God; the key of tune it is 
set in, purpose : ' I will go into thy house ; I will pay thee my vows.' So that 
first I must entreat you to look upon a solution and a resolution ; a debt to 
be paid, and a purpose of heart to pay it. 

The i)KBT is thankfulness. This is the matter and substance of the 
words. God ha\ing first, by affliction, taught us to know ourselves, doth 
afterwards, by deliverance, teach us to know him. And when his gracious 
iiand hath helped us out of the low pit, he looks that, like Israel, Exod. xv., 
wc should stand upon the shore and bless his name. David, that prayed to 
God dt pro/tmdis, Ps. cxxx. 1, ' Out of the depths have I called unto thee,' 
doth after jiraise hun in excelsis, with the highest organs and instruments of 
laud. 

General mercies require our contiimal thanks, but new favours new 
praises. P.s. xcviii. 1, ' O sing unto the Lord a new song, for he hath done 
mur\-ellous things.' There is a fourfold life belonging to man, and God is 
the keeper of all : his natural, civil, spiritual, and eternal life. Bloody man 
would tjike away our natural life, (Ps. xxxvii. 32, ' The wicked watcheth 
the righteous, and seeketh to slay him ;') God keeps it. The slanderous 
world would bla.st our civil life ; God blesseth our memory. The corrupted 
flesh would poison our spiritual life ; God ' hides it in Christ/ Col. iii. 3. 



PsAUi LXVI. 13.] god's house. 99 

The raging devil would kill our eternal life ; God preserves it in heaven. 
Unworthy are we of rest that night wherein we sleep, or of the light of the 
sun that day wherein we rise, without praising God for these mercies. If 
we think not on him that made us, we think not to what [)urpose he made 
us. When I consider the works of God, saith Augustine, I am wonderfully 
moved to praise the Creator, (jid prorsus ita ma[inus est in operibus mag- 
■nis, ut minor noii sit in minimis,''^' — who is so great in his great works, that 
he is not less in his least. But when we consider his work of redemption, 
about which he was, not as about the creation, six days, but above thirty 
years, where non sua dedit, sal se, — he gave not his riches, but himself, and 
that non tarn in dominiim, quani in servum et sacrijicium, — not to be a lord, 
but a servant, a sacrifice ; we have adamantine hearts, if the blood of this 
salvation cannot melt them into praises. 

But special favours require special thanks, whether they consist i?i exi- 
mendo or in exhibendo ; either in redeeming us from dangers, or heaping 
upon us benefits. Our prophet, in five instances, Vs. cvii., exemplifieth this 
duty : of travellers, captives, sick men, seamen, and others subject to the 
manifold varieties of life. 

For travellers : ver. 4, ' They wander in the wilderness in a solitary way ; 
hungry and thirsty, their soul fainting in them. They ciy unto the Lord in 
their trouble, and he delivers them out of their distresses.' For captives : 
ver. 1 0, ' They sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death, fast bound in 
afiiiction and iron.' Their prayers find a way out of the prison to God, and 
God delivers them out of the prison to liberty. For sick : ver. 1 7, ' Because 
of their transgression they are afflicted : their soul abhorreth all manner of 
meat ; and they draw near unto the gates of death.' The strength of their 
prayers recovers the strength of their bodies. For mariners : ver. 27, ' They 
reel to and fro, staggering like a drunken man, and are at their wit's end.' 
They by their prayers appease the wrath of God, and he appeaseth the wrath 
of the waves and winds. 

Now the burden of the song to all these deliverances is this, ver. 8, 15, 
21, 31, * Oh that men would therefore praise the Lord for his goodness, and 
for his wonderful works to the children of men ! ' And because these four 
dangers are short of the innumerable calamities incident to man's life, there- 
fore in the end of the psalm much misery is heaped up, and the Lord is the 
scatterer and dissolver of that heap; that all flesh might sing, ' Salvation is 
of the Lord.' 

And because these mercies are infinite, so that what Christian may not 
say with David, Ps. xxiii. 6, * Thy goodness hath followed me all the days of 
my life;' therefore I infer with Paul, 1 Thess. v. 18, 'In all things give 
thanks.' So our Psalmist, ' My mouth shall be filled with thy praise all the 
day long.' What is meant by ' all the day,' saith Augustine, but a praise 
without intermission ? As no hour slips by thee without occasion, let none 
slip from thee without manifestation of gratitude. * I will praise thee,' saith 
he, ' O Lord,' in prosperis, quia consolaris ; in adversis, quia corrigis, — m a 
prosperous estate, because thou dost bless me ; in affliction, because thou 
dost correct me. Fecisti, rejecisti, perfecisti, — Thou madest me when I was 
not, restored me when I was lost, suppliest my wants, forgdvest my sins, and 
crownest m}' perseverance. But as quo acerlnor miseria, eo acceptior miseri- 
cordia, — the more grievous the misery, the more gracious the mercy ; so the 
richer benelit requires the heartier thanks. Great deliverances should not 
have small gratitude , where much is given, there is not a little required. 
* Contr. Faust. Manicb., 1. xxi., cap. 5. 



1 00 GODS HOUSE. [Sermon IX. 

To tell you what God hath done for us, thereby to excite thankfuhiess, would 
be to lose myself in the gat<!S of my text. I told you this was the ground 
and module of the psalm. But I know your curious ears care not so much 
for plain-song ; yon expect I should run upon division. Hear but the next 
general point, and I come to your desire, reserving what I have more to say 
of this to my farewell and last application. 

I come from the debt to be paid, to his resolution to pay it : ' I will go 
into thy house ; I will pay,' <fec. Though he be not instantly solvoido, he is 
resolvendo. He is not like those debtors that have neither means nor mean- 
ing to pay. But though he wants actual, he hath votal retribution. Though 
he cannot so soon come to the place where this payment is to be made, yet 
lie hath already paid it in his heart : ' I will go ; I will pay.' Here, then, 
is the debtor's 

Rksolution. — There is in the godly a purpose of heart to serve the Lord. 
This is the child of a sanctified spirit, born not without the throbs and throes 
of tnie penitence. Not a transient and perishing flower, like Jonah's gourd, 
— -Ji/iiis nodis; aliens, moriens, — but the sound fruit, which the sap of grace 
in the heart sends forth. Luke xv. 1 8, when the prodigal son ' came to 
liimsclf,' saith the text, — as if he had been fonnerly out of his wits, — his first 
speech was, ' I will arise, and go to my father, and will say unto him. Father, 
1 have sinned.' And what he purposed, he performed : he rose and went. 

I know there are many that intend much, but do nothing ; and that earth 
is full of good purposes, but heaven only full of good works ; and that the 
tree gloriously leaved with intentions, without fruit, was cursed ; and that a 
lewd heart may be so far smitten and convinced at a sermon, as to will a for- 
saking of some sin. Which thoughts are but swimming notions, and vanish- 
ing motions ; embryons, or abortive births. 

PiUt this resolution hath a stronger force : it is the effect of a mature and 
deliberate judgment, wrought by God's Spirit, grounded on a voluntary de- 
votion, not without true sanctilication, though it cannot, without some hi- 
terposition of time and means, come to perform that act w-hich it intends. It 
is the harbinger of a holy life ; the little cloud, like a hand, that Elijah's 
servant saw, 1 Ivings xviii. 44, pointing to the showers of devotion. 

Well, this is but the beginning ; and, you know, many begin that do not 
accomplish : but what shall become of them that never begin '] If he doeth 
little that purposcth and performs not, what hope is there of them that will 
not purpose / It is hard to make a usurer leave his extortion, the unclean 
his lusts, the swearer his dishallowed speeches, when neither of them saith so 
much a.s, I will leave them. The habit of godliness is far off, when to will 
is not present ; and we despair of their performance in whom cannot be 
wrought a purpose. 

]5ut to you of whom there is more hope, that say. We luill praise the Lord, 
forget, not to add David's execution to David's intention. God loves the 
l.re.sriit tense boticr than the future, a facio more than a fadani. Let him 
that is i>reHi(l( lit over us be a precedent for us : Heb. x. 7, 'ibou, ^"xw, 
' Behold, 1 come '—not, I will come, but, I do come—' to do thy will, O God.' 

You have hoard the matter and maimer of the song : the substance is 
gratitude ; the form, a resolution to give it. To set it m some 

Divi.sioN OR Method. 
That every present soul may bear his part, here be threp strains, or stairs, 
an(l gradual ascents, up which our contemplations must mount with David's 
actions. 



Psalm LXVI. 13.] god's house. 101 

1. An entrance into God's house : *I will go into thy house.' It is well 
that David will bring thither his praises himself. But many enter God's 
liouse that have no business there, that both come and return eni])ty-hearted, 
that neither bring to God devotion, nor carry from God consolation. 

2. Therefore the next strain gives his zeal : he will not come empty- 
handed, but ' with burnt-offering.s.' Manifold and manifest arguments of his 
dearty affection. Manifest, because hurnt-offerings ; real, visible, actual, and 
Accomplished works. Manifold, because not one singular oblation, but 
plurally, offerings, without pinching his devotion. 

3. But yet divers have otiered sacrifices, and burnt-sacrifices, that stunk, like 
Balaam's, in God's nostrils : tendering bullocks and goats, not their own 
hearts. Therefore the third strain atfirms that David will not only offer 
beasts, but himself : ' I will pay thee my vows.' So that in his gratitude is 
observable, quo loco, quo modo, quo animo. 

In what place? GocFs house ; after what manner? with hurnt-offerings; 
with what mind ? / ivill jmy thee my vows. His devotion is without excep- 
tion : all the labour is to work our hearts to an imitation. 

/ will go into thy house. — The first note hath two strains : place and 
entrance. 

The place he purposeth to enter is described by the property, domus; the 
proprietary, Dominus. 

This house was not the temple, for that was after built by Solomon, but 
the tabernacle, or sanctuary. God had his house in all ages ; as the -n-ise 
Creator of all things, he reserved to him a portion in all things; non propter 
indigentiam, not that he had need of them, but that he might be acknow- 
ledged in them. Though he be Lord of all nations in the world, because the 
maker of all men, yet he reserved a particular number of men, and appro 
priated them to himself; and these he called suum jMjmlum, ' his people,' 
Luke i. 68. 

Though thousands of angels stand before him, and ten thousand thousands 
of those glorious spirits minister unto him, yet he cuUeth and callcth out 
some particular men to celebrate his service, sauctifpng or setting them 
apart to that office ; and these be calls suos minisiros, his priests, his 
ministers. 

Though he be a spirit, immortal, most rich, and Lord of all things, — ' The 
earth is his, and the fulness thereof ; ' yea, heaven and the glory thereof :■ 
Ps. 1. 12, ' If I were hungry, I would not tell thee ; for the world is mine,' 
&c., — yet he reserveth to himself a certain share of these inferior things : 
and this he calls sicam sortem, his portion; Mai. iii. 8, 'his tithes, his 
offerings.' 

Though he be eternal, first and last, without begdnning, wdthout end ; 
God of all times, and yet under no time ; with whom ' a thousand years is 
but as one day;' and everlastingly to be honoured; — yet he reserveth to 
himself a certain time wherein he looks for our general worship ; and that 
he calls suum diem, his day, ' his sabbaths,' Isa, Iviii. 13. 

Though he be the * high and lofty One, that inhabiteth eternity, whose 
name is Holy,' Isa. Ivii. L5 ; though infinite and comprehended in no place, 
yet he sets apart some special place wherein his great name shall be called 
on; and this he calls suavi domum, his house. So, !Matt. xxi. 13, 'My 
house shall be called the house of prayer.' Here, ' I will go into thy house.' 

God never left his church destitute of a certain sacred place, wherein he 
would be worshipped. Adam had a place wherein he should present himself 



102 OOP's HOUSE. [Skrmon IX. 

to God, and God did present himself to Lim— Paradise. God appeared to 
Abraham in a pLice, and sanctilied it ; and there, Gen. xii. 7, ' Abraham 
built an altar,' for it was holy. When he commanded him to sacrifice his 
.s(.n Isaac, he appointed him a i)lacc on a mountain, Gen. xxii. 2. And on 
this very' mountain, 2 Chron. iii. 1, was afterwards Solomon's temple built. 
Jacob, according to the several places he dwelt in, built several altars to serve 
God on. The Israelites were translated out of Egypt for this very cause, 
that they might have a place to sacrifice to the Lord. When they were come 
into Canaan, God commanded and directed Moses to make a tabernacle ; 
which was but mobile tahernrtcidum, to be dissolved when Solomon's glorious 
torar)le was finished. Now all these particular places were consecrated to 
the service of God, and called loca Dei, God's places; as David calls this 
domum Dei, God's house. 

This is the first note of the strain, the place. The next is his entrance ; 
wherein observe — 

1. That David's fir.st care is to visit God's house. It is very likely that 
this psalm was written by David either in exile under Saul, or in persecution 
by Absalom, or in some grievous distress ; whereout being delivered, he first 
resolves to salute God's house. Chrysostom in Opere Imperfecto, or whoso- 
ever was the author of that book, notes it the property of a good son, when 
he comes to town, first to visit his father's house, and to perform the honour 
that is due to him. We find this in Christ. Matt. xxL 10-12, so soon as 
ever he came to .Jerusalem, first he visits his Father's house : ' He went into 
the temple.' What the Son and Lord of David did there, the same course 
doth the servant of his Son take here : first, ' I will go into thy house.' 

Oh for one dram of this respect of God's house in these days ! Shall that 
place have a principal place in our affections ? We would not then think 
one ho\ir tedious in it, when many years delight us in the * tents of Kedar.' 
Tills was not David's opinion : Ps. Ixxxiv. 10, ' One day in thy courts is 
bettor than a thousand.' Nor grudge at every penny that a levy taxeth to 
the church, as if tegunien parietibus impositum was enough, — bare walls, and 
a cover to keep us from rain; and aliquid ornatus was but superfluous, ex- 
cept it be a cushion and a wainscot seat, for a gentleman's better ease. The 
greatest preparation usually against some solemn feast is but a little fresh 
.straw under the feet, the ordinary allowance for hogs in the stye or horses in 
the stable. For other cost, let it be domus opportuna volucrum, — a cage of 
unclean birds ; and so it must be so long as some sacrilegious persons are in 
it. It was part of the epitaph of King Edgar — 

' Templa Deo, templis monachos, monachis declit agros,' — 

He gave temples to God, ministers to those temples, and maintenance to 
those ministers. But the epitaphs of too many in these days may well run 
in contrary terms. They take tenths from good ministers, good ministers 
from the churches, yea, and some of them also the churches from God. But 
here ipiic.piid Miqero nlcits erit, that which I should touch is an ulcer; and 
I will spend no phy.sic in imniedicabile vulnus, upon an incurable wound ; 
but leave it ense reddendum Domini, to be cut off with the sword of God's 
vengeance. 

2. Observe the reason why David would go into God's house ; and this 
hafh a double degree. To give him, (1.) praise ; (2.) public praise. 

(1.) I'raijie. Might not David praise God in any place 1 Yes; Da\ad 
might and must bless the Lord in any place, in every place ; but the place 



Psalm LXVI. 13.] god's house. 103 

that is principally destined to this purpose is domus Dei, Go Js house. The 
name which God imposed on his house, and by which, as it were, he chris- 
tened it, was domus orationis, the house of prayer. As Christ, Matt. xxi. 
13, derives it from Isa. hi. 7, ' ^ly house shall be called the house of prayer.' 
Therefore those houses were called in the primitive times dominica, the 
Lord's houses ; and oratoria, houses of prayer, devoted to the praise of God. 

I might here take just cause to tax an error of our times. ]\Iany come to 
these holy places, and are so transported with a desire of hearing, that they 
forget the fervency of praying and praising God. The end is ever held more 
noble than the means that conduce unto it. Sin brought in ignorance, and 
ignorance takes away devotion. The word preached brings in knowledge, 
and knowledge rectilies devotion. So that all our preaching is but to beget 
your praying ; to instruct you to praise and worship God. The most im- 
mediate and proper ser\ace and worship of God is the end, and hearing but 
the means to that end. And the rule is true : Semper Jinis excellit id quod 
est ad Jinem, — The end ever excels that wJiich leads to the end. Scientia 
non est qualitas activa, sed principium quo aliquis dirigitur in operando* 
— Knowledge is not an active quality, but only a means to direct a man in 
working. 

Non tarn audire, quam obedire requirit Deus, — God reckons not so much 
of our audience as of our obedience : not the hearers, but the ' doers, are 
blessed in their deed,' James i. 25. Indeed, Christ saith, ' Blessed are they 
that hear the word of God;' but with this condition, that 'they keep it.' 
The worship of God is the fruit of hearing ; shew me this fruit. Our ora- 
toria are turned into auditoria, and we are content that God should speak 
earnestly to us, but we will not speak devoutly to him. I hope that no man 
will so ignorantly and injuriously understand me, as if I spake against hear- 
ing of sermons frequently. God forbid ; you must hear, and we must preach. 
The apostles ' gave themselves continually to prayer, and to the preaching of 
the word,' Acts vi. 4 : where yet prayer is put in the first place. 

I complain not that our churches are auditories, but that they are not 
oratories ; not that you come to sermons, (for God's sake, come faster,) but 
that you neglect public jjrayer : as if it were only God's part to bless you, 
not yours to bless God. And hereof I complain with good company. Chryso- 
stom saitlijt that such a multitude came to his sermons, that there was scarce 
room for a late comer ; and those would all patiently attend the end of the 
sermon : but when prayers were to be read, or sacraments to be adminis- 
tered, the company was thin, the seats empty. Vacua desertaque ecclesia 
reddehatur. 

Beloved, mistake not. It is not the only exercise of a Christian to hear a 
sermon ; nor is that Sabbath well spent that despatcheth no other business 
for heaven. I will be bold to tell you, that in heaven there shall be no 
sermons ; and yet in heaven there shall be hallelujahs. And this same end, 
for which David came to God's house, shall remain in glory — to praise the 
Lord. So that all God's .service is not to be narrowed up in hearing, it hath 
greater latitude ; there must be prayer, praise, adoration, and worship of 
God. Neither is it the scope of Christianity to know, but the scope of 
knowledge is to be a good Christian. You are not heathen, to ask, Quid cre- 
dendum } What must we believe? nor catechists,to demand. Quid faciendum? 
' What must we do V Luke iii. 10. You know what to believe, you know 
what to do. Our preaching hath not so much need monere as movere ; 
though you also need instruction, yet more need of exhortation ; for you 
* Th. 1, qu. 117, art. 1. f De Incompreh. Dei Natura, Horn. iii. 



104 god's house. [Sermon IX. 

have learned more than ever you have followed. Come then hither, both to 
hear God and to praise God; as Da\-id was not only here a praiser, but, 
vcr. 16, a preacher : ' Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will teU 
you what he hath done for my soul.' 

(•2.) ^Vhich fitly brings me to the further exemplifying of this cause moving 
Davitl to enter into God's house. Which was not only to praise him, but to 
praise him piillicli/. Otherwise he might have muttered his orisons to him- 
self ; no, he desires that his mouth should be a trumpet of God's glory ; as 
frequently in the Psalms : ' I will praise thee before the great congregations.' 
There are some, that whatsoever service they do to God, desire anany wit- 
nesses of it ; others desire no -natnesscs at all. 

The former are hypocrites, who would have all men's eyes take notice of 
their dev<jtion ; as if they durst not trust God without witness, for fear he 
should deny it. Such were the Pharisees ; they gave no alms without the 
proclamation of a trumpet, and their prayers were at the corners of streets ; 
such comers where divers streets met, and so more spectable to many pas- 
sengers. To these Christ, !Matt. vi. 4, ' Do thy devotion in secret ; and he 
that seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.' 

The other have a little desire to serve God, but they would have no wit- 
nesses at all. They depend upon some great man, that will be angry with it. 
And these would fain have God take notice of their devotion, and nobody 
else. So Nicodemus stole to Christ by night ; and many a Papist's servant 
would come to churcli if he were sure his master might not know of it. For 
he fears more t« be turned out of his service than out of God's service. To 
these Christ, Luke xii. 4, ' Be not afraid of them that kill the body,' and no 
more ; ' but fear him that hath power to cast into hell ; yea, I sa'y unto you, 
fear him.' A man may better lose his landlord's favour than the Lord's 
favour ; his farm on earth than his manor or mansion in heaven. 

David was neither of these. His thankfulness shall not be hidden jjrce 
timore 7mna)it{um,noT yet will he manifest it pro amove laudantiam, — neither 
for fear of commanders nor for love of commenders. He is neither timidus nor 
tumidus, not fearful of frowns nor luxurious of praises ; but only desires to 
manifest the integrity of his conscience in the sight of God. It is the man- 
ner of the godly not only to ruminate in their minds God's mercies, but to 
divulge them to the bettering of others. When we yield thus to the world 
a testimony of our faith and thankfulness in God's public honour, we pro- 
voke others to hearken to religion, and inflame their hearts with a fervent 
desire to partake the like mercies. The fame of Alexander gave heart to 
Julius Caisar to be the more noble warrior. The freedom of our devotion 
gives an edge to others. 

Jkiiejicinm qui dedit, taceat ; narret qui accepit;' — Let him that gives a 
benefit Ix! silent ; let him speak of it that hath received it. There'is that 
law (»f ditference, saith that philosopher, betwixt the doer of a good turn 
nn(Uhe recoivrr of it : A Her sUttim oblivisci debet dati ; alter accepti nunqiiam, 
— Tiie one ou,i,'ht ciuickly to forget what he hath given ; the other ought 
never to forget what he hath received. We arc the receivers, and must not 
forget. God gave the law to Israel, and the custom of the saints observed 
It : Ps. Ixxviii. 3, 4, ' What we have hoard and known, and our fathers have 
told UH, wc will not hide from our children, showing to the generations to 
••OHIO the prai.ses of the I.,<-rd.' 

hul.-.-d there was a time when Christ forbade the publishing of his benefit: 
.Mark I. \\, to the leper, ' See thou .say nothing to any man of it.' But ' he 
♦ Sou. do Beucf., lib. ii., cap. 11. 



TsALM LXVI. 13.] god's house. 105 

went out, and began to publish it much, and to blaze abroad the matter.' 
I know, divers divines, by curious distinctions, have gone about to excuse 
the matter, by making this an admonitory, not an obligatory precept. But 
I subscribe to Calvin and Llarlorat, who tax it for an offence, and manifest 
breach of Christ's commandment. And Jerome on that place says that non 
erat necessc zit sermone jadaret, quod cor pore jwceferebat, — his tongue might 
be silent, for his whole body Avas turned into a tongue to publish it. The 
act was good, but not good at that time. Disobedient he was, be it granted ; 
yet of all disobedient men commend me to him. Let not then any ix)litic or 
sinister respects tie up our tongues from blessing him that hath blessed us. 
Suffocate not the fire of zeal in thy heart by silent lips, lest it prove key- 
cold ; but say with our projjhet, Ps. xxvi. 1 2, ' My foot standeth in an even 
place : in the congregations will I bless the Lord.' 

We perceive now the motive-cause that brought David into God's house. 
I would take leave from hence in a word to instruct you with what mind 
you ^lould come to this holy place. We are in substance inheritors of the 
same foith which the Jews held ; and have — instead of their tabernacle, sanc- 
tuary, temple — churches, places set apart for the assembly of God's sidnts ; 
wherein we receive divine mysteries, and celebrate divine ministries ; which 
a^e said by Damascene,* Plus participare operationis et graiioe divince, — 
There is nothing lost by the gospel which the law afforded ; but ratlujr all 
bettered. It is observable that the building of that glorious temple was the 
maturity and consummation of God's mercy to the Jews. Infinite were his 
fiivours betwixt their slavery in Egj^it and their peace in Israel. God did, as 
it were, attend upon them to supply their wants. They have no guide : why, 
God hunsclf is their guide, and goes before them in a pUlar of fire. They 
have no shelter : the Lord spreads a cloud over them for a canopy. Are they 
at a stand, and want way 1 The sea shall part and give them passage, whilst 
the divided waters are as walls unto them. For sustenance, they lack bread : 
heaven itself shall pour down the food of angels. Have they iio meat to 
their bread ? A wind shall blow to them imuimerable quails. Bread and 
flesh is not enough without drink : behold, a hard rock, smitten with a 
little wand, shall pour out abundance of water. But what is all this, if they 
yet in the wilderness shall want apparel ,? Their garments shall not wax old 
on their backs. Do they besiege 1 Jericho's walls shall fixU down before 
them ; for want of engines, hailstones shall brain their enemies ; lamps, and 
pitchers, and dreams shall get them victory. ' The sun shall stand stiU on 
Gibeon, and the moon in the A'-alley of Ajalon,' Josh. x. 12, to behold their 
conquests. Lack they yet a land to inhabit? The Lord will make good 
his promise against all difficulties, and giAC them a land that ' flows with 
milk and honey.' 

But is all this yet short of our purpose, and their chief blessedness 1 They 
want a house to celebrate his praise that hath done all this for ih-m : behold, 
the Lord giveth them a goodly temple ; neither doth he therein only accept 
tlieir offerings, but he also gives them his oracles, even vocal oracles between 
the cherubims. I might easily parallel England to Israel in the circumfer- 
ence of all these blessings ; but my centre is their last and best, and Avhercof 
fhey most boasted : Jer. vii. 4, ' The temple of the Lord,' and the law of their 
otod. To answer these we have the houses of God, and the gospel of Jesus 
Christ. We have all, though all in a new manner: 2 (~!or. v. 17, 'Old 
things are passed away ; behold, all things arc become new.' They had an 
'Old Testament,' Heb. viii 13; we have the 'New Testament' They had 
♦ Orthod. Fid., lib. cap. 16 



IQQ god's house. [Sermon IX. 

the Spirit ; we have a new Spirit. They had commandments ; we have novum 
vuinJatum—tliG ' new comnumdment,' John xui. 34. They had an mhen- 
tancc, Canaan ; we have a new inheritance promised : Vidi novum coelum 
a fio'imn ten-am,— Rev. xxi. 1, ' I saw a new heaven and a new earth.' To 
conchide, they had their temple, we have our churches ; to which as they 
were brouglit by their sabbath, so we by our Lord's day ; wherein as they 
had their siicrameuts, so we have our sacraments. We must therefore bear 
the like affection to ours as tliey did to that. We have greater cause. 
There was the shadow, here is the substance; there the figure, here the 
truth ; tliere the sacrifices of beasts, here of ' the Lamb of God taking away 
the sin of the world.' 

I find myself here occasioned to enter a great sea of discourse ; but you 
shall see I will make but a short cut of it. It is God's house you enter ; 
A house where the Lord is present ; the place where his honour dwelleth. 
Let this teach us to come — 

1. With reverence. Lev, xix. 30, 'Ye shall hallow my sabbaths, and 
reverence my sanctuary : I am the Lord.' The very mention of this rever- 
ence, methinks, should strike our hearts with our self-known guiltiness. 
How few look to their feet before they enter these holy doors ! Eccles. v. 1 ; 
and so they offer the sacrifice of imprudent and impudent fools. If th^y 
arc to hear, they regard quis, not quid : anything is good that some man 
speaks, the same in another trivial. If the man like them not, nor shall the 
sermon. Many thus contend like those two Germans in a tavern. One 
said lie was of Dr ilartin's religion, the other protested himself of Dr Luther's 
religion ; and thus among their cups the litigation grew hot between them : 
whereas indeed Martin and Luther was but one man. Others, when they 
come first into the church, they swap down on their seats, clap their hats 
before their eyes, and scarce bow their knees ; as if the}'^ came to bless God, 
not to entreat God to bless them. They would quake in the presence of an 
offended king, who are thus impudent-faced in the house of God. But saith 
the Lord, whose ' throne is the heaven, and the earth his footstool ; I will 
look to him that trembleth at my word,' Isa. Ixvi. 2. So Jacob, Gen. xxviii. 
1 7; ' was afraid, and said, How fearful is this place ! This is none other 
than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.' Whereupon Bernard, 
Terribilis plane locus, &c., — 'A fearful place indeed, and worthy of all rever- 
ence ; which saints inliabit, holy angels frequent, and God himself graceth. 
with his own presence.' As the first Adam was placed in paradise to keep 
it, so the second Adam is in the congregation of his saints to preserve it. 
Therefore enter not without reverence : Ps. v. 7, ' I will come into thy house 
in tlic multitude of thy mercies ; and in thy fear will I worship toward thy 
holy temple.' 

2. With joy. None but a free-will offering is welcome to God. It is a 
common opinion in the world that religion doth dull a man's wits and deject 
his spirits, as if mirth and mischief were only sworn brothers. But God's 
word teachoth, and a good conscience findeth, that no man can be so joyful 
n» the faitlxful ; nor is there so merry a land as the holy land; no place of joy 
like the church. Let the wicked think that they cannot laugh if they be 
tied to the law of grace, nor be merry if God be in the company ; but the 
Chriistian knows there Is no true joy but the good joy : and if this be any- 
where, it i,4 in the temple Ps. cxxiv. 1, ' I was glad when they said unto 
nie, Let u.H go into the house of the Lord.' Indeed, therefore, we are not 
njcrry enough, because we are not enough Christians. Can you wish more 
joy to lie received than that, Rom. xiv. 17, 'peace of conscience, and joy of 



Psalm LXVI. 13.] god's house. 107 

the Holy Ghost/ — hilaris cum pondere virtus, a joy that can neither be 
suppressed nor expressed, — or more joy to be communicated than, Col. iii 
1 G, 'in psalms, hyunis, and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts 
to the Lord?' Think, think, tliy God is here. "The angels of heaven rejoice in 
his glorious presence, and crown it as their chief felicity ; and shall not poor 
man rejoice in his gracious presence, — as it were, his most blessed society 1 
Yes; the light of thy countenance, O Lord, shall put more gladness into 
our hearts than into the worldlings' their abundance of com and wine, Ps. 
iv. 6, 7. Cast away then your dulncss and unwillingness of heart ; come 
merrily and with a joyful soul into the house of God. 

3. With holiness. It is holy ground, not by any inherent holiness, but m 
regard of the religious use. For that place which was once Betluel, the house 
of God, proved afterward Bethaven, the house of iniquity. But it is thus 
God's sanctuary, the habitation of his sanctity : Frocul hinc, procul este pro- 
fani. ' Put off thy shoes,' — doff thy carnal affections, — ' the place where thou 
standest is holy ground ;' ' wash thy hands,' yea, thy heart, ' in innocency,' 
before thou ' come near to God's altar.' Be the minister never so simple, 
never so sinful, the word is holy, the action holy, the time holy, the place 
holy, ordained by the Most Holy to make us holy. Saith a reverend divine, 
God's house is for godly exercises ; they wrong it, therefore, that turn sanc- 
tiiariinn into promptuarium, the sanctuary into a buttery, and spiritual food 
into belly-cheer. And they much more, that pervert it to a place of pastime, 
making the house of praise a house of plays. And they most of all, that 
make it a house, not laud is, hut /raudis, — Matt. xxi. 13, 'My house is the 
house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves,' — robbing, if not men 
of their goods, yet God of the better part, sincerity of conscience. 

What a horrid thing would it be, beloved, if you shoidd depart from this 
church, where you learn to keep a good conscience, but into the market, and 
there practise deceit, circumvention, oppression, swearing, drunkenness ! Oh, 
do not derive the commencement of your sins from God's house ! What a 
mockery is this, and how odious in the sight of heaven, if you shoidd begin 
your wickedness with a sermon, as the Papists begin their treasons with a 
mass ! I tax no known person ; but for the facts and faults, noyi ignota cano, 

1 do not speak of things unknown. I would to God your amended lives 
might bring me with shame again hither to recant and unsay it. 

But it often so falls out, that as those conspirators met at the Capitol, so 
the church is made the covimunis terminus, where many wickednesses have 
appointed to meet. ' What agreement hath the temple of God with idols V 

2 Cor. vi. 16. Begin not the day with God, to spend all the rest with Satan. 
Your tongues have now blessed the Lord ; let not the evening find them red 
with oaths, or black with curses. Let not that saying of Luther be verified 
by you, that in nomine Domini incipit omne malum, — in the name of God 
begins aU mischief Whatsoever your morning sacrifice pretend, look to 
your afternoon. You have done so much the worse, as you have made a 
show of good ; and it had been easier for your unclean hearts to have missed 
this admonition. This caveat, before I leave God's house, I thought to 
commend to your practice, when you leave it. 

I have held you too long in the church, speaking of the church. It was 
the most material point I propounded to my discourse ; forgive the prolixity, 
the brevity of the rest shall make amends. The first strain or stair was his 
entrance into God's house. Now he is in, what doth he ? What bringeth 
he? We find— 

Bumt-ojerings. — I have three dissuasions from punctual tractation of 



108 



GODS HOUSE. [Sermon IX. 



this point First, The poor remnant of the fugitive time. Secondly, I have 
Uberally handled it on former occasions.* Thirdly, The necessity is not 
CTcat of discoursing the sacrilices of the law in these days of the gospel. 
We have the light, and therefore need not trouble ourselves to cast back the 

Sacrifices are of great antiquity. Not only the book of God, but even the 
law of nature, hath imprinted in man's heart that sacrifices must be offered. 
It is written in the conscience, that a homage is due to the superior power, 
which is able to revenge itself of dishonour and contempt done it, and to 
rc"Tatify them with kindness that served it. But David's sacrifice was the 
eanicst of a thankful heart. I might amplify it, and perhaps pick up some 
good gleanings after others' full carts. 

I could also observe, that David came not before God empty-handed, but 
brought with him some actual testimony of his devoted affection, — burnt- 
offerings,— to the confusion of their faces who will no longer serve God if 
he grows chargeable to them. If they may receive from God good things, 
and pay him only with good words, they are content to worship him. But 
if they cannot be in his favour but it must cost them the setting on, they 
■ftill save their purses though they lose their souls. If he requires aught 
for his church, poor ministers or poor members, they cry with Judas, Ad quid 
perJitio h(Bc ? — Why is this waste 1 They are only so long rich in devotion 
as they may be rich by devotion, and no longer. 

But for ourselves, be we sure that the best sacrifice we can give to God is 
obedience ; not a dead beast, but a living soul. The Lord takes not delight 
in the blood of brutish creatures, a spirit in bodies, the impassible in savours 
arising from altars. It is the mind, the life, the soul, the obedience, that he 
requires : 1 Sam. xv. 22, ' To obey is better than sacrifice.' Let this be our 
burnt-offering, our holocaust, a sanctified body and mind given up to the 
Lord, Horn. xii. 1, 2. First the heart : ' My son, give me thy heart' Is 
not the heart enough? No, the hand also : Isa. i. IG, 'Wash the hands' 
from blood and pollution. Is not the hand enough 1 No, the foot also : 
' Bcinove thy foot from evil.' Is not the foot enough 1 No, the lips also : 
' (J hard the doors of thy mouth;' Ps. xxxiv. 13, 'Refrain thy tongue from 
evil.' Is not thy tongue enough ? No, the ear also : ' Let liim that hath 
ears to hear, hear.' Is not the ear enough 1 No, the eye also : ' Let thine 
eyes be toward the Lord.' Is not all this suflicient 1 No, give body and 
Hpirit : 1 Cor. vi. 20, ' Ye are bought with a price : therefore glorify God in 
your body, and in your spirit, which are God's.' When the eyes abhor lust- 
ful objects, the ears slanders, the foot erring paths, the hands wrong and 
violence, the tongue flattery and blasphemy, the heart pride and hypocrisy ; 
this is thy holocaust, thy whole burnt-ofiering. 

/ u'i/l pay thee viy vows. — The third and highest degree of this song is, 
vows ; ' I will pay thee my vows.' And here among vows, I might sooner 
than with bunit-offorings lose the time, your patience, and myself This 
vow was no meritorious or supererogatory work in David. But though the 
law gent'raliy binds him to (iod's service, yet to some particular act of God's 
service he may newly bind liimself by a vow. So, Gen. xxviii. 20, 22, 'Jacob 
vowed a vow, saying, If (iod will be with me,' &c., ' this stone that I have set 
for a pillar shall l)e God's house ; and of all that thou sbalt give me, I will 
huffly give the tenth unto thee.' Our prophet did vow performance of that 
duty to whirh without vowing he was obliged: Ps. cxix. 106, ' I have vowed 
and swoni, ami will perform it, that I willkeep thy righteous judgments.' 
• See Sermon on Fa. cxviii. 27. 



Psalm LXVI. 13.] god's house. 109 

There are many cautions in vows which I must vow to omit : only Solo- 
mon's rule excepted, Eccles. v. 4, 6, ' When thou vowest a vow to God, defer 
not to pay it ; for he hath no pleasure m fools : pay that thou hast vowed. 
Suffer not thy mouth to cause thy flesh to sin.' Let nothing be vowed that 
is not jKiies voventam, in the power of the vower ; and then the thing being 
good, and thou enabled to perform it, this vow must be kept. For thy vows 
are a heavy charge : Ps. l\d. 1 2, ' Thy vows are heavy upon me, God.' 

The Papists have strange, and often impossible vows, of poverty, vir- 
ginity, pilgrimage. I will teach thee to make vows too ; God enable thee to 
keep them ! If thou wilt \ow poverfi/, let it be in spirit. Vow thyself not 
in the world a beggar, but a beggar to Christ, ilany blessed saints have 
served God with their wealth, and thought not that religion was only in 
them that begged. If thou wilt vow virginity, vow thyself a virgin to 
Christ ; whether thou be married or single, keep the bed undefiled, that, 
2 Cor. xi, 2, ' thou mayest be presented a pure virgin to Christ.' If thou 
wilt vow pilf/rimcfje, let it not be to our Lady of Lorctto, or of Halle and 
Zichem, indeed not to our Lady, but to our Lord ; vow thyself a pilgrim to 
Christ. Load not thyself with the luggage of this world, lest it hinder thy 
journey ; and cease not travelling till thou come to thy home, the place of 
peace and eternal rest. These are lawful, laudable vows ; the Lord send us 
jdl to make them, and to keej) them ! 

You see I am quickly got up these two latter stairs. Some more special 
use remahis only to be made, and so give way to conclusion. I will take 
from these three branches a just reproof of three sorts of people, — refusers, 
intruders, backsliders. Refusers to come, being called; intruders, that 
come being not prepared ; and backsliders, that make vows but not keep 
them. The first say not, ' We will go into thy house.' The second say, 
' We will go into thy house,' but not ' with burnt-offerings.' The last deny 
not both the former : ' We will go into thy house,' and ' with burnt-offer- 
ings ;' but non solvent vota, they will not ' pay their vows.' 

1. Refusers or recusants are of two sorts — Papists and separatists, or 
schismatics. 

(1.) Papists; and they have so much recourse ad transmarina judicia, to 
beyond-sea judgments, that they dare not come into God's house because of 
the Pope's interdiction. And the Popes have so wrought and brought it 
about now, that they will not only in ahstrado be had in reverence, but in 
concreto be feared with observation. Though at first thirty bishops there 
successively yielded their heads to the block for Christ ; yet afterwards, by 
change of bishops in that see, and of humours in those bishops, such altera- 
tion hath followed, that Rome is no liker to what Rome was than JNIichal's 
image on a pillow of goat's hair, 1 Sam. xix., was like David. The cause 
therefore of their not communicating with us is awe of the Pope's supremacy. 
For some of their gi-eatest writers have justified our communion-book to 
contani all doctrme necessary to salvation. The not suffering them to come 
to God's house is then rather a point of Popish policy and state than of 
Christian devotion. But indeed they are the satanical Jesuits that set them 
afoot. The common peojjle, like the mare mortuuvi, a dead sea, would be 
quiet enough, if these blustering winds did not put them into tumult. And 
so long as those dogs can bark against God's house, the poor affrighted people 
dare not come there. So that England may have their bodies, but Rome 
hath their hearts ; and the danger is fearful, lest Satan also come in for his 
share, and take possession of their souls. 

(2.) Schismatics; who, because their curious eyes, looking through the 



^]0 god's HOUSE. [Sehmon IX. 

spectacles of opinion, spy some morphew * of corruption upon the church's 
face, will utterly forsake it. There are some that refuse peaceable obedience, 
as the poet made his plays, to please the people ; or as Simon Magus was 
christened, for company. The separatists are peevishly wretched ; discon- 
tent drives them from God, and though they say they fly for their conscience, 
indeed they tiy from their conscience, lea\-ing all true devotion behind them, 
and their wives and children upon the parish. 

2. Well, they are gone, and my discourse shall travel no further after 
them, but fall upon others nearer hand. There are some so far from refusers, 
that they are rather intruders. They will come into God's house, but they 
^vill bring no burnt-otferings with them ; no preparation of heart to receive 
benefit in the church. They come without their wedding-garment, and shall 
one day hear that fearful and unanswerable question, ' Friends, how came 
you in hither / ' 

These are the utterly profane, that come rather with a lame knowledge 
than a blind zeal. For some of them, good clothes carry them to church ; 
and they had rather men should note the fashion of their habits than God 
the habit of their hearts. They can better brook ten disorders in their lives 
than one ui their locks. Others are the secure semi-atheistical cosmopolites ; 
and these come too : and none take a truer measure of the sermon, for their 
sleep begins with the prayer before it, and wakens just at the psalm after it. 
These think that God may be served well enough with looking on ; and 
their utmost duty, but to bring their bodies a little further living than they 
shall be brought dead : for then perhaps they shall come to the churchyard, 
now they will bring them to the church. Devotion and they are almost 
strangers, and so much as they know of it, they dishonour by their acquaint- 
ance. Their burnt-ofi'erings are nothing else but a number of eyes at utmost 
lift up to heaven ; their heart hath another centre. They bring as many 
sins with them every day to church as they have been all their lives in com- 
mitting. Their hands are not washed from aspersions of lust and blood ; 
their eyes are full of whoredom, their lips of slander, their affections of covet- 
ousnes.s, their wits of cheating, their souls of impiety. If there were no 
saints in the church, how could they hope the roof would not fall on their 
guilty heads? But I will leave them to the Lord's reproof: Jer. vii. 9-11, 
' Will ye steal, murder, commit adultery, and swear falsely ; and come and 
stand before me in this house,' staring me in the face, as if you were inno- 
cent ] ' Behold, even I have seen it, saith the Lord.' 

3. There is yet a last sort, that will come into God's house, and bring with 
them burnt-offerings, a show of external devotion ; but they will not pay their 
vows. Distress, war, captivity, calamity, famine, sickness, brings down the 
mosjt elate and lofty spirits. It turns the proud gallant's feather into a 
kerchief ; i)ulls the wine from the lips of the drunkard ; ties up the tongue 
of the swearer, whom thunder could not adjure to silence ; makes the adul- 
terer loathe the place of lu.s sin, the bed. And though the usurer stuff his 
pillow with nothing Init hi.s bonds and mortgages, softer and sweeter in his 
opinion than down or feathers, yet his head will not leave aching. 

This misery doth so sting, terrify, and put sense into the dead flesh of the 
numbed conscience, that (all worldly delights being found like plummets of 
lead tied about a man while he is cast into this sea, so far from helping 
hun to swim, that they .sink him rather,) the eye looks about for another 
shore, and finds none but God To this so long forgotten God, the heart 
begins to address a messenger, and that is prayer. God, the wicked see, 
* That is, a ucab or scurf.— Ed. 



Psalm LXVI. 13] god's house. Ill 

must be called on, but they know not how. They have been so mere 
strangers to him, that they cannot tell how to salute him. Like beggars 
that are blind, they are forced to beg, but they see not of whom. Or if 
their eyes are so iar oi^en, vident quasi e longinquo salutem, sed interjacente 
■pelayo ; vident quo eundum, non qua, — they see health afar off, as it were 
beyond the sea ; they see whither they would go, but not which way. 

If any inferior thing or created prop could iljjhold them, God should not 
be solicited. If friends will, if physic will, if money will, if all the delicate 
objects for any sense will ease or appease their grief, they will not seek to 
lieaven. Yea, if Beelzebub, t'.ie god of Ekrou, can cure them, they will not 
trouble the God of Israel. But ail lower pleasures to one thus sick are but 
like a sweet harmony of music to a deaf man. There is no hope of comfort 
but from above the clouds. Health and prosperity is but as a coach to carry 
our desires to heaven, but sickness is the post-horse. Only this suh-poena 
can bring us to put up a supplication in the high court of requests and 
mercy. Now, lo, they pray, they beseech, they sigh, they weep, they bleed, 
and lastly they vow. 

What vow they ? Either some new act to be done, or some old act to be 
left undone. Now the drunkard vows abstinence, the lustful vows conti- 
nence, the swearer vows to leave his blasphemy, the encloser vows to throw 
open nis taken-in commons, the proud vow to leave their gaudy vanity, the 
worldling vows to be charitable and to relieve the poor ; and perhaps, at 
such a pmch or dead lift, one usurer in a thousand years may vow to forsake 
his usury, and to restore all that he hath so gotten. Now they say. Lord, 
remove from me this malady, this extremity, and I will hereafter serve thee 
better, love thee more, believe thy gospel, relieve thy poor, give something 
to an hospital, or do some such act as may testify my thankfulness. 

Well, God hears and grants ; health comes, strength is recovered, the 
danger is over, they are well. Now ubi vota ? — where be their vows 1 Alas ! 
we rise from our beds of sickness, and leave our vows behind us. 

■ 
' .(Egrotus surgit, sed pia vota jacent.' 

Physicians have a rule among themselves concerning their patients : Take 
whiles they be in pain. For whatsoever they promise sick, when they are 
well they will not perform it. So God had need to take what devotion he 
can get at our hands in our misery, for when prosperity returns we forget 
our vows. You have often heard that old verse — 

' Dcemon languebat, monachus tunc esse volebat j 
DsemoQ couvaluit, drcmon ut ante fuit ; ' 

and as wittily EngUshed — 

'The devil was sick, the devil a monk would be; 
The devil was well, the devil of monk was he.' 

The moral of it suits full to our present pur[)0se. It is reported of Constan- 
tinople that a terrible earthquake had overthrown many houses, slain much 
people. Hereupon the remaining inhabitants, affrighted, fell devoutly to 
their prayers and vows, privately in their chambers, publicly in their churches; 
the poor were relieved, justice administered, their lives much amended. But 
afterwards, when God held his hand, they held their tongues ; he forbore 
plaguing, and they forbore praying ; the rod ceased, and their piety withal : 
they forgot their vows. 

When the Lord hath stricken us by famine, in withholding the rain from 



112 ood's house. [Sermon IX. 

U-; or in pouring clown too much too fast upon us ; or by a grievous plague, 
tunun" our popular streets into a desert ; we straight grow jienitent : zeal 
carries'up our cries to heaven, we pray, we sigh, we weep. Sorrow sits in 
•mr eyes, devotion on our lips ; God hath at that time more hearty prayers 
in an hour than ordinarily in a year. But as the poet spake — 
' Xocte plait tota, redeunt spectacula mane;' — 

The Lord no sooner takes ofiF the burden of misery, but we also shake off 
the burden of piety; we forget our vows. Oh the mercy of God, that such 
forgetfulness should possess Christian hearts ! This was unthankful Israel's 
fault: P.s. cvi. 13, ' Thqy soon forgot his works;' they forgat, yea, soon; 
they made haste to forget, so the original is : ' They made haste, they forgat' 
Like men that in sleep shake Death by the hand, but when they are awake 
will not know him. 

It is storied of a merchant, that in a great storm at sea vowed to Jupiter, 
if he would save him and his vessel, to give him a hecatomb. The storm 
ccaseth, and he betliinks that a hecatomb was unreasonable; he resolves cu 
seven o.xen. Another tempest comes, and now he vows again the seven at 
least. Delivered then also, he thought that seven were too many, and 
one ox would serve the turn. Yet another perd comes, and now he vows 
solemnly to fall no lower ; if he might be rescued, an ox Jupiter shall have. 
Again freed, the ox sticks in his stomach, and he would fain draw his devo- 
tion to a lower rate ; a sheep was sufficient. But at last, being set ashore. 
he thought a sheep too much, and purposeth to carry to the altar only a few 
dates. But by the way he eats up the dates, and lays on the altar only the 
shells. After this rate do many perform their vows. They promise whole 
hecatombs in sickness, but they reduce them lower and lower still as they 
grow well. He that vowed to build an hospital, to restore an impropriation 
to the church, to lay open his enclosures, and to serve God with an honest 
heart, brings all at last to a poor reckoning, and thinks to please the Lord 
with his empty shells. There was some hope of this man's soul's health 
while his body was sick ; but as his body riseth to strength, his soul falls to 
weakness. 

It is the reproach of Rome, No penny, no paternoster; let it not be our 
reproach and reproof too, No plague, no paternoster ; no punishments, no 
prayers. Thy vows are God's debts, and God's debts must be paid ; he wUl 
not, as men do desperate debtors, dismiss thee on a slight composition. No ; 
juste erir/itur ad soJvemhna, qui non corjitur ad vovendum* — he is justly re- 
quired to pay that was not compelled to vow. Non talis eris, si non feceris 
quod vovisii, qualis mansisti si nihil tale vovisses : minor enim tunc esses, 
non jt/'jor,i— Thou, rcmainest not the same, having vowed and not performed, 
as thou hadst been hadst thou not vowed : thou hadst then been less, thou art 
now worse. 

Well then, beloved, if we have vowed a lawful vow to the Lord, let us pay 
it. Let it not be said of us, that we do aliiid sedentes, aliud stantes, — one 
tiling sitting in our cluiir of sickness, another thing standing in our stations 
of health. The Lord doth not deliver us out of the bond of distress, that we 
Hhould deliver ourselves out of the bond of obedience. Gal. vi. 7, 'Be not 
deceived ; God is not niockod : for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he 
r.-ap.' The next blow of his liand ^^ ill be heavier, because thou hast soon for- 
gotten thia. Who can l)lame justice, if he strike us with yet greater plagues. 
that liavo on our deliverance from the former so mocked him with the fall- 
* l'«2'"n- t Aug. in Ep. ad Arnientar. et Paulinum. 



Psalm LXYI. 13.] god s house. 113 

ing fruits of our vowed devotion 1 Come we then whose hearts the mercy 
of God and blood of Jesus Christ hath softened, and say with our Psahuist, 
'Wo wiU go to thy house, O Lord : we will pay thee our vows.' 

You see all the parts of this song ; the whole concert or harmony of all is 
praising God. I have shewed you quo loco, in his liouse ; qico modo, with 
burnt-otferings ; quo animo, paying our vows. Time hath abridged this dis- 
course, contrary to my promise and purpose. 

In a word, which of us is not infinitely beholden to the Lord our God, 
for sending to us many good thhigs, and sending away from us many evil 
things '? Oh, where is our praise, where is our thankfulness l ' What .^liall we 
do unto thee, thou preserver of men ? ' What but ' take the cup of sal- 
vation, and bless the name of the Lord ?' Ps. c. 4, ' Oh, let us enter into 
his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise : let us be 
thankful unto him, and bless his name.' And let us not bring our bodies 
only, but our hearts ; let our souls be thankful. 

Man's body is closed up within the elements : his blood within his body, 
his si>irits in his blood, his soul within his spirits, and the Lord restcth in 
Ms soul. Let then the soul praise the Lord ; let us not draw near with our 
lips, and leave our hearts behind us ; but let us give the Searcher of the 
hearts a hearty praise. Ingratitude is the devil's text ; oaths, execratioiis, 
blasphemies, and lewd speeches are commentaries upon it. But thankful- 
ness is the language of heaven ; for it becometh saints to be thankful. As 
therefore we would give testimony to the world, and argument to our own 
conscience, that we serve the Lord, let us promise and perform the words of 
my text, ' We wiU go into thy house with burnt-ofFermgs : we will pay thee 
our vows.' The Lord give thankfulness to us, and accept it of us, for Jesus 
Christ's sake ! Ameu. 



THE SACEIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. 



God is the Lord, which hath shelved ics light : bind the sacrifice ivith cords, 
even unto the horns of the altar. — Psalm CXVIII. 27. 

Tee first and last words of this psalm are, ' give thanks unto the Lord, 
for he is good : because his mercy endureth for ever.' 

Thanksgiving is the prescript and the postscript. He that is Alpha and 
Omega, the first and the last, requires that our beginning and ending should 
be, ' Praise to the Lord.' 

You see the head and the foot, the bulk, body, members, are not dissonant, 
There is scarce any verse in the psalm that is not either a hosanna or a 
hallelujah ; a prayer for mercy, or a praise for mercy. 

I have singled out one ; let it speak for the rest : ' God is the Lord, that 
hath shewed,' <kc. 

Here is somewhat received ; somewhat to be returned. God hath blessed 
us, and we must bless God. His grace, and our gratitude, are the two lines 
my discourse must run upon. They are met in my text ; let them as happily 
meet in your hearts, and they shall not leave you till they bring you to 
heaven. 

The sum is, God is to be praised. The particulars are — I. Wherefore he is 
to be praised ; and, IL Wherewith he is to be praised. 

I. Wherefore : ' God is the Lord, that hath shewed us light.' 

IL Wherewith : ' Bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of 
the altar. 

1. \\\ the /or wlutt we will consider — 1, The author; and, 2. His blessing. 
L Tlse author : ' God is the Lord.' 

2. His blessing : ' Tliat liath shewed us light.' 

The Lord, the light. The author is called God and Lord ; which lead 
U3 to look upon his goodness and his greatness. 

1. God and Goon. — Lo, I begin with him that hath no beginning, but is 
the beginning of all other beings— God ; and would only tell you, (for I 
must not lose myself m this mystery,) that this God is good. In himself 
goodnesH ; good to us. Ps. c. 5, ' The Lord is good : his mercy is everlast- 
ing.' Ho ia true life, saith Augustine:* A quo averti cad ere ; in quern 
converti resurgere; in quo manere vivere es^,— From him to turn is to fall; 
to him to return is to rise ; in him to abide is to live for ever. 
* In Orat Dom. 



Ps. CXVIII. 27.] THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESg. 115 

David, in the 59th Psalm, calls him his mercy: ver. 10, Deits mens, 
misericordia mea, — 'My God, my mercy.' Whereupon Augustine sweetly 
discourses : — 

' If thou hadst said, My health, I know what thou hadst meant ; because 
God gives health. If thou hadst said. My refuge, I understand ; because thou 
flicst unto him. If thou hadst said, My strength, I conceive thy meaning ,• 
because he gives strength. But Misericordia mea; quid est? Totum, 
quicquid sum, de misericordia tiia est, — My mercy ; what is it ? I am by 
thy mercy, whatsoever I am.' * 

Bernard t would have us speak of God in abstracto : not only to call him 
wise, merciful, good, but wisdom, mercy, goodness, because the Lord is 
without accidents at all. For as he is most great without quantity, so he is 
most good without quality. Nil habet in se nisi se, — He hath nothing in 
him but himself. 

God, then, being good, — not only formaliter, good in himself, but also 
effective, good to us, — teachcth us to love him. We should love goodness for 
its own sake ; but when it reflects upon us, there is a new invitation of our 
love. 

The Lord. — We have heard his goodness ; listen to his greatness. In 
this title we will consider his majesty, as we did in the other his mercy. 

Lord implies a great state : the title is given to a great man upon earth. 
But if an earthen lord be great, quantus est Domimis, qui dominos facit ?% — • 
how great is the Lord, which makes lords ! Yea, and unmakes them, too 
at his pleasure. 

This is an absolute and independent Lord. 1 Cor. viii. 5, ' There may be 
many gods, and many lords.' But this is ille Dominies, — the Lord, or that 
Lord, that commands and controls them all. They avQ Doviini titulares ; 
this is Dominas tutelaris. They are in title and name, this in deed and 
power. 

There are mani/, saith St Paul. Many in title, many in opinion. Some 
arc lords and gods ex authoritate; so are kings and magistrates. Ps. Ixxxii. 
1, ' God standeth in the congregation of lords : he is judge among the gods.' 
Others will so style themselves ex usurpadone ; as the canonists say of their 
Pope, Dominus Deus noster Papa, — ' Our Lord God the Pope.' But he is 
but a lord and god in a blind and tetrical opinion. 

The Lord is only almighty ; able to do more by his absolute power than 
he wUl by his actual ; able for potent, not impotent works. He cannot lie, 
he cannot die.§ Dicitur omnipotens faciendo quod vult, non patiendo quod 
non vult, — He is called almighty in doing what he pleaseth, not in suffering 
what he pleaseth not. 

This is his greatness. As his mercy directs us to love him, so let his 
majesty instruct us to fear him. I will briefly touch both these affections ; 
but love shall go foremost. 

Love. — Our God is good, and good to us ; let us therefore love him. 
(1.) It is an affection that God principally requires. (2.) It is a nature 
wherein alone we can answer God. 

(1.) For the former; God requires not thy wisdom to direct him, nor thy 
strength to assist him, nor thy wealth to enrich him, nor thy dignity to 
advance him ; but only thy love. * Love him with all thy heart.' 

(2.) For the second ; man cannot indeed answer God well in any other thing. 
When God judge th us, we must not judge him again. When he reproves us, 

* Aug. in Ps. lix. : Si dicae, Salus nica, intelligo ; quia Deus dat salutem, &c. 
+ Serm. 80 in Cant. ^ Augustine. § Aug. de Civit. Dei, lib. v., cap. 10. 



jj(j THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. [SeRMON X. 

we must not justify ourselves. If he be angry, we must answer Mm in 
patience ; if be command, in obedience. Cut when God loves us, we must 
answer him in the same nature, though not in the same measure, and love 
him a"ain. We may not give God word for Avord ; we dare not offer him 
blow ^r blow; wo c^umot requite him good turn for good turn; yet we 
may, can, nmst, give him love for love. Nam cum amat Deus, non aliud vult 
<juam amari* 

Now, because every man sets his foot upon the freehold of love, and says, 
It is mine, let us ask for his evidence whereby he holds it. We call an 
evidence a deed ; and deeds are the best demonstration of our right in love. 
If thou love God for his own sake, shew it by thy deeds of piety. If thou 
love man for God's sake, shew it by thy deeds of charity. The root of love 
is in the heart ; but it sends forth veins into the hands, and gives them an 
active and nimble dexterity to good works. ' If you love me,' saith Christ, 
' keep my commandments,' John xiv. 15. If you love man, shew your com- 
passion to him, 1 John iii. 17. Obedience to our Creator, mercy to his 
ima"e, testify our loves. He that wants these evidences, these deeds, when 
that busy informer, the devil, sues him, will be unhappily vanquished. 

Fear. — Let us pass from love to fear. We must love our good God ; 
we must fear our great Lord. It is objected against this passage of union, 
that ' perfect love casteth out fear,' 1 John iv. 18. It is answered that fear 
brings in perfect love, as the needle draws in the thread. And it is not 
possible that true love should be without good fear ; that is, a filial reve- 
rence. For slavish fear, be it as far from your hearts as it shall be from 
my discourse. 

Now this fear is a most due and proper affection, and, I may say, the fittest 
of aU to be towards God. Indeed God requires our love ; but we must think 
that then God stoops low, and bows himself down to be loved of us. For 
there is such an infinite inequality betwixt God and us, that without his 
sweet dignation, and descending to us, there could be no fitness of this affec- 
tion. But look we up to that infinite glory of our great Lord, look we 
down on the \nleness of ourselves, sinful dust, and we will say, that by reason 
of the dispro])ortion between us, nothing is so suitable for our baseness to 
give so high a God as fear. Therefore, Ps. xxxiv. 11, ' Come, ye children, 
hearken unto me : I will teach you the fear of the Lord.' Ps. xxxi. 23, 
'Fear the Lord, all ye his servants;' as well as 'Love the Lord, all ye his 
saints,' Ps. ii. 11. 

Now this fear hath as many challengers as love had. When this book is 
held f)ut, every man's lips are ready to kiss it ; and to say and swear that 
they fear the Lord. Love had the testimony, charity ; and fear must have 
his, service. Ps. ii., 'Serve the Lord with fear.' 

It is man's necessitated condition to be a servant. Happy they that can 
truly call Christ Master ! ' Ye call me Lord and Master : and ye say well; for 
HO I am,' John xiii. 1 3. 

He that serves ihefesJi serves his fellow; and a beggar mounted on the 
back of honour rides post to the devil. This is a choleric master ; so fickle, 
that at every turn he is ready to turn thee out of doors. We may say of 
him, as of the Spaniard, he is a bad servant, but a worse master. 

He that serves the world serves his servant, as if Ham's curse was lighted 
on him : serni.i gprvnnim,—a, drudge to slaves, a slave to drudges. 

Mo that serves the dn^il serves his enemy, and this is a miserable service. 
Sure It was a lamentable preposterous sight that Solomon saw, Eccles. x. 7, 
• Bern. Scrui. 83 in Cant. 



Ps. CXVIII. 27.] THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. 117 

* I have seen servants on horses, and princes wal Icing as servants upon the 
earth.' And Agur, Prov. xxx. 22, numbers it among tho.se four things 
whereby the world is disquieted : 'A servant when he reigneth, and a fool 
when he is filled with meat ; an odious woman when she is married, and a 
handmaid that is heir to her mistress.' 

Judge then how horrible it is that men should set (as the savages of 
Calicut) the devil, or his two angels, the world and the flesh, in the throne, 
whiles they place God in the foot.stool; or that in this commonwealth of 
man, reason, which is the queen or the princess over the better powers and 
graces of the soul, should stoop to so baso a slave as sensual lust. ' Delight 
is not seemly for a fool : much less for a servant to have rule over princes,' 
Prov. xix. 10. 

St Basd, not without passion, did envy the devil's happiness, who had 
neither created us, nor redeemed us, nor preserveth us, but violently labours 
our destruction ; that yet he should have more servants than God that made 
us, than Jesus Christ that, with his own precious blood and grievous suffer- 
ings, bought us. Well, he is happy that can truly say with David, Ps. cxvi. 
16, ' I am thy servant, O Lord; I am thy servant, and the son of thy hand- 
maid.' This service is true honour ; for so kings and princes, yea, the blessed 
angels of heaven, are thy fellows. 

God is good, that we may love him ; the Lord is great, that we may fear 
him. We have heard both severally ; let us consider them jointly, and therein 
the security of our own happiness. It is a blessed confirmation, when both 
these, the goodness and the gi-eatness of God, meet upon us. His greatness 
that he is able, his goodness that he is willing to save us. Were he never 
so great, if not good to us, we had little help. Were he never so good, if not 
great, and of ability to succour us, we had less comfort. He woidd stand us 
in smaU stead if either his will or his power was defective ; if either he could 
not or would not save us. 

His goodness without his greatness might fail us ; his greatness without 
his goodness would terrify us. It is a happy concurrence when ' mercy and 
truth meet together; when righteousness and peace kiss each other,' Ps. 
Ixxxv. 10. So sweetly sings the Psalmist, Ps. cxvi. 5, 'Gracious is the Lord, 
and righteous; yea, our God is merciful.' Whereupon St Ambrose, Bis 
misericordiam posidt, semel juslitiam^^ — He is once said to be righteous, but 
twice in one verse to be gracious. It is sweet when both are conjoined, as 
in the first and last verse of this psalm : ' give thanks to the Lord ; for he 
is good : for his mercy endureth for ever.' The Lord is good ; though great, 
yet also good ; and his mercy, so well as his justice, endures for ever. Man' 
hath no such assurance of comfort in God as to meditate that his great 
power and good-wiU, his glory and grace, his majesty and mercy, meet to- 
gether. 

These be God's two daughters, justice and mercy. Let us honour them 
both, but let us kiss and embrace mercy. But, alas ! we have dealt unkindly 
with them both. God hath two daughters, and we have ravished them. 

There is a story of a man, that meeting in a desert with two virgin sisters, 
he did ravish both of them. Mterwards, on his apjjrehcnsion, the former 
desired that he might justly die for it. The other did entreat as earnestly 
that he might live, and that she might enjoy him for her husband. 

^lan is that ravishcr, and those two virguis are the justice and mercy of 
God. Against his justice we have sinned, and provoked his indignation to 
strike us; yea, even his mercy we have abused. For her sake we have 
* Orat. de obitu Theodosii. 



118 



THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. [SeEMON X. 



been spared, and a longer day of repentance given us; yet we have despised 
the ridies of this mercy, and presuming on mercy, have dared to multiply 
our transgressiona Justice pltuids to God that we should die ; urgeth this 
law, ' Whosoever sinneth shall die,' and, ' Death is the wages of sin.' Mercy 
entreats, boseecheth that we may Uve, and produceth the gospel, ' Whosoever 
repents, shall be pardoned : whosoever believes, shall be saved ;' and for 
further' assurance, brings forth that blessed pardon, sealed in the wounds 
and blood of Jesus Christ. God hearkens to mercy for his Son's sake; 
though wo have ravished and wronged his mercy, yet for mercy's sake we 
shairbe forgiven. But then we must be married to mercy ; married in our 
faith, believing on Christ ; married in our good life, being merciful unto 
men. 

2. The Blessing. — We see the author ; let us look on his blessing, light. 
' He hath shewed us light.' We are come into the light, and therefore 
have light enough of an ample discourse. But my purpose is only to shew 
you this light, as the word is in my text, not to dwell on it, though I pray 
that all you and myself may for ever dwell in it. 

light. — Such as the giver is, such is the gift. 1 John i. 5, ' God is light, 
and in him is no darkness at all.' And St James, chap. i. 17, calls him 
the ' Father of light.' God is — 

So glorious a light, that as the sun dazzleth the eyes too steadfastly fixed 
on it, so his incomprehensible majesty confounds all those that too curiously 
pry into it. 

So clear a light, that he sees into all corners. Prov. xv. 3, * The eyes of 
God are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.' He searcheth 
more narrowly than the beams of the sun. He sees bribery in the office, 
adultery in the closet, fraud in the shop, though the pent-house makes it as 
dark as a room in bedlam. 

So good a light, that in him is no darkness ; not so much as a shadow. 
There is none in him, there comes none from him. Indeed he made ' out- 
ward darkness ' of hell, the wages of sin. But he never made the inward 
darkness of the soul, which is shi. 

So constant a light, that though the sun be variable in his course, some- 
times shining bright, often clouded, yet God is without change, as the moon; 
without eclipsing, as the sun ; without setting, as the stars. 

So spreading a light, that he communicates it to us. John i. 9, ' This is 
tliu true light, which lighteth every one that cometh into the world.' With- 
out whom we should have been wrapped in an eternal miserable darkness, 
but that he sent one ' to give light to them that sat in darkness and in the 
shadow of death, to guide their feet in the way of peace,' Luke i. 79. 

And this is the light which he here sheweth us. By the consent of all 
exposittjrs, in this psalm is typed the coming of Christ, and his kingdom of 
the gospel. This is manifested by an exaltation, by an exultation, by a 'peti- 
tion, by a benediction. 

The exaltcUinn : ver. 22, * The stone which the builders refused is become 
the head stone of the comer.' The Jews refused this stone, but God hath 
built hi.s church upon it. 

The exultation : ver. 24, * This is the day which the Lord hath made ; we 
will rcjoii^e and be glad in it.' A more blessed day than that day wag 
wherein ho made man, wlicn he had done making the world; ' Rejoice we, 
and 1)C glad in it.' 

The petition : ver. 25, ' Save now, I beseech thee, O Lord ; O Lord, I 
btaeech thee, send now prosperity.' Thy justice would not suflfer thee to 



Ps. CXVIII. 27.] THE sAcrapicE of thankfulness. 119 

save without the Messiah ; he is come, ' Save now, O Lord, I beseech thee. 
Our Saviour is come, let mercy and salvation come along with him. 

The benediction makes all clear : ver. 26, ' Blessed be he that cometh in 
the name of the Lord.' For what David here prophesied, the people after 
accomplished : Matt. xxi. 9, ' Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the 
Lord.' 

The corollary or sum is in my text : vcr. 27, ' God is the Lord, that hath 
shewed us light : bind the saeritice with cords to the horns of the altar.' 

It was truly said, Lex est lux, — The law is light. But unable to light us 
to heaven ; not through its owai, but our deficiency. Hereon it did not save, 
but condemn us. Lex non damnans est Jicta et picta lex^^ — That law that 
doth not condemn us is a feigned and painted law^ The Apostle calls it the 
' ministration of death.' 

Let then the less light give place to the greater. Legalia fuerimt ante 
passionem Domini viva, statim post passionem mortua, hodie sepidfa,f — The 
legal rites were before the passion of Christ alive, straight after his passion 
dead, now buried. Or as another : The ceremonies of the law were, in their 
prime, mortales ; in Christ's age, mortuce ; in our time, mortiferoe. They were 
at first dying, in our Saviour's time dead, in ours deadly. ' The law v?as 
given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ,' John i. 17. 

We have now found out the light, and, blessed be God, above these fifty 
years we have found it : that if any should say, as Philip to Christ, John 
xiv. 8, 'Lord, shew us the Father, and it sufliceth us;' to whom Jesus 
answers, ' Have I been so long with you, and yet hast thou not kuowTi me, 
Phihp ? He that hath seen me hath seen the Father;' — so if any should say, 
Shew us the light, and it sufficeth us, I answer. Hast thou been so long in 
the light, and hast thou not known it 1 Art thou one of the country that 
ApoUonius writes of, that can see nothing in the day, but all in the night ? 
Hath the light made thee blind ? If no other, the contmuance of this exer- 
cise shews that the light is among us. 

I should trifie the time to prove by arguments to the ear a thing so visible 
to the eye ; and waste the light of the day to demonstrate the evidence of 
tliis light being amongst us. Meditation and wonder better become this sub- 
ject than discourse. 

It is the blessing of God's right hand. Prov. iii. IG, ' Length of days is 
in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honour,' saith Solomon of 
Wisdom ; he meant it of Christ. This light shall procure to a man blessed 
eternity. All those blessmgs of the left hand, as riches and honour, are frail 
and mortal. Nothing lasts long in this world, except a suit at law. But 
this light, if ourselves fault not, shaU outshine for countenance, and outlast 
for continuance, the sun in the firmament. Therefore our Psalmographer, 
ver. 15, havhig shewed that 'the voice of rejoicing and salvation is in the 
tabernacles of the righteous,' he adds, ' The right hand of the Lord hath done 
valiantly;' yea, he doubles and trebles it : ' The right hand of the Lord is 
exalted ; the right hand of the Lord hath done valiantly.' This is the God 
of lights, that 'had the seven stars in his right hand,' Rev. i. IG. — This 
light must enlighten us to some duties. 

1. Itejoice in this light: ver. 24, 'This is the light-day that the Lord 
hath made : let us rejoice and be glad in it.' Not for a spurt, as the stony 
ground, ]\Latt. xiii. 20, that with joy receives the sermon, but goes home 
as stony-hearted as Judas after the sop. Nor as the Jews, to whom John 
Baptist was ' a burning and a shining lamp ; and they for a season rejoiced 
* Luth. iu Galat. f Aug. 



J 20 THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. [SERMON X. 

in his light; John v. 35 ; but afterwards never rested till tney had eclipsed 
the Sun on the cross, and slain his morning-star in the prison. Nor as chil- 
dren, tliat come abroad to play in the sunshine, and make no more account 
of it'. Nor as a people that never saw the sun, step out of their doors to 
gaze upon it, and then turn their backs on it. But rejoice with a solid joy, 
as they whom God hath 'brought out of darkness into his marvellous 
light.' 

2. Walk worthy of this light. This was St Paul's request to his Ephe- 
sians, that they would ' walk worthy of the vocation wherewith they are 
called,' Eph. iv. 1. The night is past, the light is come ; let us ' therefore 
cast otf the works of darkness, and put on the armour of light,' Rom. xiii 12. 
Be children of the light. As the light shines on thee, let it shine in thee. 
Thou hast small comfort to be in the light unless the light be in thee. Saith 
the prophet to the church, Isa. Ix. 1, ' Arise, shine ; for thy light cometh, 
and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.' As God hath shewed his 
light to you, 'so let your light shine before men, that they may see your 
good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven,' Matt. v. 16. There 
are some that boast their communion ^dth God ; against whom St John 
reasons a natura Dei, 1 John i. 5, 6, ' God is light : if we say we have fel- 
lowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and know not the truth.' 
St Paul's argument is of the same fashion : * What communion hath light 
with darkness 1' The holy writ calls all sins opera tenebrarum, the ' wgrks 
of darkness.' Because — 

(1.) They are perpetrated against God, who is the 'Father of lights,' 
James i. 17. 

(2.) Thoy are suggested by the devil, who is the ' prince of darkness,' 
Eph. vi. 12. 

(3.) They are most usually committed in the dark. Male agens odit 
liicem. ' They that sleep sleep in the night ; and they that be drunken be 
drunken in the night,' 1 Thess. v. 7. 

(4.) They arc the effects of blindness of mind ; and ignorance is a grievous 
inward dArkncss. ' Their foohsh heart was darkened ;' and hence issued 
tho.?c deadly sins. Bom. i. 11. 

(5.) Their reward shall be utter darkness : ' Cast that unprofitable servant 
into utter darkness,' Matt. xxv. 30 ; and, Jude, ver. 13, 'To them is reserved 
the blackness of darkness for ever.' 

If then God hath shewed thee light, shew not thou the deeds of darkness ; 
but ' walk honestly, as in the day,' Rom. xiii. 13. 

3. Take heed of sore eyes. Pleasures, lusts, and vanities make the eyes 
sore that are dotingly fastened on them. The usurer with telling his gold ; 
the haughty with contemplating his greatness ; the drunkard with looking 
at the wine laughing in the cup ; the lustful with gazing on his pamted 
damnations, make their eyes so sore, that they cannot look up and behold 
thi.s light. 

4. Take benefit of this light whiles it shines. It may be clouded, as it was 
in the days of I'opcry. Either this light may be set to thee, or thou be set 
to it. That to thoe, l)y removing the candlestick ; thou to that, by the hand 
of death, which .sliall send thee to the land of forgetful darkness. Our 
Saviour tiiught us thi.s, not only in precept, but in practice : John ix. 4, ' I 
must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day; for the night 
c<inu-th, wliercin no man can work.' Let us not do like some courtiers, that 
having liglit allowed them, play it out at cards, and go to bed darkling. 

5. Lastly, help to maintain this light, that it go not out. If you would 



Ps. CXVIII. 27.] THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. 121 

have the himps of the sanctuary shine, pour m your oil. Grudge not a little 
cost to keep this light clear. The l^ipists have their Candlemass ; they be- 
stow great cost in lights about a service of darkness. Repine not you then 
at a little charges for the everlasting lamp of the gospel. Some of you, I 
bear you witness, do not grudge it. Go on and prosper ; and whiles you 
make the church happy, make yourselves so. 

II. Wherewith. — I must now step from heaven to earth ; I pass from 
the /or tvhat to the 2uith what God is to be praised. 

He hath shewed you his light, shew him yours. He hath given us an 
inestimable blessing, what shall we return him 1 What ? ' Bind the sacrifice 
with cords, even to the horns of the altar.' 

This is man's thankfulness for God's bountifulness. We will first cast over 
the particulars, and then sum them. 

1. Here is sacrifice to be offered. 

2. This sacrifice must be bound: ' Bind the sacrifice.' 

3. This sacrifice must be hound with cords : ' Bind the sacrifice with 
cords.' 

4. This sacrifice must be bound with cords to the altar : ' Bind the sacri- 
fice with cords to the altar.' 

5. This sacrifice must be, (1.) bound; (2.) with cords; (.3.) to the altar; 
(4.) yea, even to the horns of the altar. Ye see the totum is thankfulness ; 
and the bill hath five particulars : — 

(1.) The sacrifice is devotion. 

(2.) Binding the sacrifice, constant devotion. 

(3.) With cords, fervent devotion. 

(A.) To the altar, rectified devotion. 

(5.) To the horns of the altar, confident devotion 

Devotion is the mother, and she hath four daughters : — 

1. Constancij. Bind the sacrifice. 

2. Fervency. Bind it with cords. 

3. Wisdom. Bind it to the altar. 

4. Confidence. Even to the horns of the altar. 

Sacrifice is the act of our devout thankfulness. I might here (to no 
great purpose) travel a large field of discourse for sacrifices. But it were no 
other but where the Scripture offereth us the company a mile, to compel it 
to go with us twain. 

All sacrifices are either expiatory or gratulatory ; expiatory for the condo- 
nation of .sins, gratulatory for the donation of graces. So, in a word, they 
were either sin-offerings or peace-offerings. 

The sin-offerings of the Jews had two main ends — 

1. To acknowledge peccati stipendium mortem, — that death was the wages 
of sin, due to the sacrijficers, laid on the sacrificed. 

2. ^Mystically and symbolically to prefigure the killing of the ' Lamb of 
God, that taketh away the sins of the world.' So Calvin : Semper illis ante 
ocidos stjmbola propo7ii ojwrtuit, — They had ever need of signs, and types, 
and figurative demonstrations before their eyes. 

But those sacrifices are abolished in Christ, Heb. x. 12, 'who offered one 
sacrifice for sins for ever ;' and that was such a one as was ' a sweet-smelling 
savour to God,' Eph. v. 2. It was a pretty observation, that the last cha- 
racter of the Hebrew aljihabct was a plain figure of Christ's cross, to shew 
that his sacrifice ended all theins. 

Ours is the second kind, gratulatory sacrifice; our prophet here speak- 
ing of the days of the gospel. Then * bind this sacrifice with cord.s/ &c. Christ 



^^)2 THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. [SeRMONX. 

is our altar, let ourselves be the sacrifice ; the fire that kindles it, the love of 
Gixl ; the smoke that goes up, the consumption of our sins. 

That this sacrifice may be acceptable, I will shew you how it must be 
done, how it must not be done. 

1. What is to be excluded. 

2. How it ought to be qualified. 

1. Ed-dusively. It must be sine pelle, sine melle, sinefelle, sine macula. 

(1.) Sine pelle, without the skin of ostentation ; which indeed makes them 
not sacrijicia but sacrilegia, not sacrifices but sacrileges. They are so opera 
muta, dumb deeds ; nay, rather, opera mendacii, loud-lying works ; as if they 
told God a good tale how they loved him, when they meant to deceive him. 
God will require all untruths between man and man ; but fallacies and false- 
hoods done between the porch and the altar, in the shadow of the church 
and under the pretence of his service, he will sorely revenge. 

The casting up of the eyes, the bowing down of the knees, the uncovering 
the head, moving the lips, knocking the breast, sighing and crying, what 
mean they? Are they not symptoms and demonstrative witnesses of an in- 
ward compunction 1 Are they not a protestation that the soul is speaking 
to God ? If there be not an honest heart within, this is but the skin of a 
sacrifice ; and they that give God the skin for the body, God will give them 
the skin for the body ; the shadow of blessings for the substance. 

It is storied of one that sold his wife glasses for pearls, Imposturam fecit, 
et passus est, — He cozened, and Avas cozened. They that sell the Lord of 
heaven (howsoever they may deceive his spouse, the church on earth) glasses 
for pearls, shells for kernels, copper for gold, bark for bulk, show for sub- 
stance, fancy for conscience, God will be even with them, and give them 
stones for bread, images of delight for substantial joys. Imjjosturam faciunt, 
et patientur, — They deceive, and shall be deceived. 

(2.) Sine melle ; there must be no honey of self-complacency in this sacri- 
fice. Ps. li. 17, ' The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit : a broken and 
a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.' A true sacrifice consists not 
only faciendo, but patiendo, — in doing, but in dying or sufiering for Christ. 

In the law, beasts appointed for sacrifice were first slain, and so offered. 
In the gospel, Christians must first mortify their earthly members and 
crucify their carnal lusts, and then ofier up themselves. As death takes 
away the natural lite, so mortification must take away the sensual life. Moria- 
tur ergo homo, ne moriatur ; miitetur, ne damnetur^^ — Let a man die, that 
he may not die ; let him be changed, that he be not damned. Only the 
mortified man is the true ' living sacrifice.' It must not then be honey to our 
palates, but bitter ; even so bitter as abnegare suos, sua, se, — to deny our 
friends, to deny our goods, to deny ourselves, for Christ's cause. 

(."3.) Sine f die; there must be no amaridentia, no gall of bitterness in 
this sacrifice. Matt. v. 23, ' If thou bring thy gift to the altar, and re- 
membercst that thy brother hath aught against thee ; leave there thy gift, 
and go thy way ; finst be reconciled to thy brother, and then ofter it.' If thy 
brother hath aught against thee, God hath more. If thou have somewhat 
against thy brother, God hath somewhat against thee. ' Go ye and learn 
wliat that meanotli, I will have mercy and not sacrifice,' Matt. ix. 13. 

Whiles you trip up mens heels with frauds, lay them along with suits, 

tri-ad on them with oppressions, blow them up with usuries,, injuries ; your 

Bacrilicc is full of gall, ll was said in wonder, ' Is Saul among the prophets?' 

fSo, what makes a slanderer, a defrauder, a usurer, an oppressor, at church ? 

• Aug. Serm. cxli. de Temp. 



Ps. CXVIII. 27.] THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. 123 

They come not nnefelle, without the gall of uncharitableness ; they shall re- 
turn sine melle, without the honey of God's mercies. Heb. xiii. 1 6, ' To do 
good, to communicate, forget not; for with such sacrifices God is well 
piea.sed.' Merciful works are pro sacrificiis, imo prce sacrificiis, — equal to 
siicrifices, above sacrifices in God's acceptance. 

(4.) Sine macula. Lev, xxii. 20, God commands that his sacrifices be 
' without blemish ; nor blind, nor broken, nor maimed, nor infected,' &c. 
Therefore a lamb without spot was offered for a morning and an evening 
sacrifice. And the Lamb of God, in an antitypical relation, is truly said, 
immaculatus, 'a lamb without spot, without blemish,' 1 Pet. i. 19. 

The drunkard is without a head, the swearer hath a garget in his throat, 
the covetous hath a lame hand, he cannot give to the poor, the epicure 
hath a gorbelly, the adulterer is a scabbed goat, the worldling wants an eye, 
the ruffian an ear, the coward a heart : these are mutila sacrificia, — lame, 
defective, luxate, unperfect sacrifices. 

The prophet Isaiah begins and ends his prophecy with a denunciation of 
God's contempt and refusal of such oblations ; who will forget those to be 
the sons of grace that forget his sacrifices to be the sacrifices of a God. 
Isa. Ixvi. 3, ' He that sacrificeth a lamb is as if he cut oflF a dog's neck' 

2. Afii'viatively. It must be cum thure, cum sale, cum sanguine, cum 
integritate. 

(1.) Cum thure. The frankincense is prayer and invocation : Ps. cxli. 2, 
' Let my prayer be set forth before thee as incense ; and the lifting up of 
my hands as the evening sacrifice.' 

These the prophet calls vittilos labiorum, — the calves, not of our folds, but 
of our lips ; whereof the Lord more esteemeth than of the bullock that hath 
horn and hoof. 

This is the special sacrifice here meant. God expects it of us : non ut 
avarus, (as Ambrose,*) not as if he were covetous of it, but ex dehito. Yet 
as he must give the beast to us before we can give it to him, Joel ii. 14, 
for the Lord must ' leave a blessing behind him, even a meat-offering and a 
drink-offering for himself;' so this spiritual sacrifice of prayers and praise 
must be datum as well as mandatum, conferred as required. 2'ribuat 
Deus, lit homo retribuat, — Let God give it to man, that man may give it to 
God. He that commands it mu.st bestow it. 

(2.) Cu7n sale. There must be salt to season this sacrifice : Lev. ii. 13, 
' With all thine offerings thou shalt offer salt.' 

Salt hath been usually taken for discretion. What St Paul speaks of our 
words should hold also in our deeds : Col. iv. 6, ' powdered with salt.' 
The proverb is true. An ounce of discretion is worth a pound of learning. 
Tolle hanc, et virtus vitium erit, — Banish this, and you shall run virtue 
into vice, blow heat into a flame, turn conscience into a fury, and drive 
devotion out of her wits. Zeal without this is like a keen sword in a mad 
hand. 

(3.) Cum sanguine. Not literally, as in the sacrifices of the law, — 'Almost 
all things by the law are purged with blood,' Heb. ix. 22, — but spiritually, 
to make them acceptable, they must be dipped, not in ours, but in the blood 
of Jesus Christ. 

Without this they are not holy ; as one expounds. Sanctum, quasi sanguine 
consecratum. Here is then the necessity of a true faith, to sprinkle all our 
sacrifices with our Savour's blood ; no sacrifice otherwise good. For ' what- 
soever is not of faith is sin,' Rom. xiv. 23. Therefore if any man comes to 
* De Noah., cap. xxii. 



I2i THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. [SeRMONX. 

the church more for fear of the law than love of the gospel, he offers a thank- 
less sacrifice. 

(4.) C'inn integritate. And this in respect sacrificii et sacrijicantis. 

Of the saai/ce. God reproves the Jews, Mai. i. 7, 8, that they had 'laid 
polluted bread upon his altar. If ye offer the blind for sacrifice, is it not 
evil? If ye offer the lame and the sick, is it not evil?' The Lord's sacri- 
fice must be fat and fair ; not a lean, scraggling, starved creature. 

Paid beseeeheth the Eomans that they would ' present themselves a living ' 
or quick ' sacrifice to God,' Rom. xii. 1. When infirmities have crazed it, and 
age almost razed it, then to offer it — alas ! it is not a living, but a dying ; 
not a quick, but a sick sacrifice. This must be a whole and holy oblation. 

Of the sacrijicer. The life and soul of a sacrifice is not the outward action, 
but the inward affection of the heart. Mens cujusque, is est quisque, — As 
the mind is, so is the man ; as the man is, so is his sacrifice. If we bring 
our sheep to God's altar, and them alone, we had as good left them behind 
us as an unprofitable carriage : Micah vi. 6, ' Wherewith shall I come before 
the Lord? With burnt-ofierings, and calves of a year old ? Will the Lord 
be pleased with thousands of rams, or wdth ten thousand rivers of oil ? Shall 
I give my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of 
my soul V No ; learn another oblation : ' God hath shewed thee, man, what 
is good ; and what doth he require of thee, but to do justly, and to love 
mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God V 

The poet could ask the priest, In templo quid facit auruvi ? He bids 
them bring compositum jus, fasque animi, &c. Put these into my hands, et 
farre litabo. Lay upon the altar of your heart, faith, repentance, obedience, 
patience, humility, chastity, charity, bona pignora mentis, and consecrate 
these to the Lord. 

When the Searcher of the reins shall find a carcase of religion without a 
quickening spirit, he will turn his countenance from it. Beasts died when 
they were sacrificed. 

The oracle answered, to him that demanded what was the best sacrifice to 
plea.se God, Da medium lunce, soleni simul, et canis iram, — Give the half- 
moon, the whole sun, and the dog's anger; which three characters make coR, 
the heart. Deus non habet gratum offerentem propter munera, sed munerd 
propter of erentem,— God values not the offerer by the gift, but the gift by 
the offerer. Let not then thy heart be as dead as the beast thou immolatest. 

So Peter [Martyr (in Horn, xii.) expounds Paul's 'living sacrifice.' Those 
things that can move themselves are living and quick : they are dead that 
cannot stir themselves but by others' violence. Compelled service to God 
— as to keej) his statutes for fear of man's statutes — is an unsound oblation, 
not qiiick and lively. God loves a cheerful giver and thanksgiver. lion 
respicU JJciis munera, nisi te talem prcestes, qualem te munera promittunt, — 
God regards not thy gifts, unless thou dost shew thyself such a one as thy 
gifts promise thee. Ad te, non munera spedat. 

You see tho sacrifice, Devotion. The mother hath held us long ; we will 
deal more briolly with her daughters. 

Coustani>/.—'Y\M' first-born is Constancy : ' Bind the sacrifice.' Grace is 
like n ring, without end ; and the diamond of this ring is constancy. Deut. 
yi. 8, "J'hoii shaft l^ind my statutes for a sign upon thy hand, and they shall 
be as frontlets between thii.u eyes.' It is the advice of Wisdom, Prov. iii 
3, ' Let not mercy and truth forsake tlice : bind them about thy neck; and 
write them upon the table of thy heart.' 

The leaf of a rigliteous man never fadeth, saith the Psalmist. If it doth, 



Ps CXVIII. 27.] THE SACrJl'ICE OF THAXKrULNESS. 125 

then lapsus folionim, mortificatio arhonim, saitli the Gloss, — the fall of the 
leaves will be the death of the tree. It is to small purpose to steer the ves- 
sel safe through the main, and split her within a league of the haven; to put 
your hand to the plough, and thrive well in the best husbandry, and with 
Demas to look back. 

Vincent i dahitur ; and fulfilled holiness wears the crown. Rev. ii., iii. 
Some have derived sanctum, quasi sancitum, — an established nature. All 
virtues run in a race ; only one winneth the garland, the image of eternity, 
happy Constancy. ' Wisdom is a tree of life to them that lay hold on her ; 
and blessed is he that retains her,' Pro v. iii. 1 8 : therefore, ' make sure your 
election ;' fiist bind, fast find. ' Bind the sacrifice.' 

Fervpncy. — The next daughter of this righteous generation is Fervency : 
'Bind the sacrifice with cords.' Thou canst not make heaven too sure. Men 
use to bind the world to them faster than the Philistines Samson, or the 
jailor his fugitive prisoner, with cords, with cords of iron ; that it may not 
start from them, and run away. 

Riclies is known to be a wild bedlam ; therefore they will keep it in bonds. 
They bind their lands with entails, their goods with walls, their moneys with 
obligations, that on no condition they may give them the slip. But they 
care not how loose the conscience be : they give that liberty enough, even to 
licentiousness. 

But the sacrifice of devotion must be bound with cords: a cord of love, a 
cord of fear, a cord of faith ; and this ' threefold cord is not easily broken,' 
Eccles. iv. 12. 

Wisdom. — A third daughter, and one of the beautifulest, is Wisdom: 
' Bind the sacrifice with cords to the altar.' Rectified devotion is specially 
acceptable. 

A man may be devout enough ; too much, when their zeal is like the horn 
in the unicorn's head ; it doth more hurt than good. You would not have 
wished Baal's priests do more for their master; lo, the gashes and mouths of 
their self-given wounds speak their forwardness : they wanted a lamp of 
direction to guide it to God's altar. 

Aristotle * calls discretion, viHutum normam et formam, — the eye of the 
.soul, the soul of virtue. I would to God some amongst us had one dram of 
this grace mingled with their whole handfuls of zeal. It would a little cool 
the preternatural heat of the fling-brand fraternity, as one wittily calleth 
them. 

HoUerius writes of an Italian, that, by often smelling to the herb basU, had 
scoq)ions bred in his brain. Proud faction is the weed they so much smell 
on, and make posies of, that the serpents bred in their brains do sting and 
wound the bosom of the church. These ' bind,' and ' with cord.s,' but not to 
the altar. Devotion is not their scope, but distraction. Oh, may the sj)irit 
of meekness bind their sacrifice to the altar, direct their zeal with 'Uscretion, 
to the glory of God ! And let us every one say resolutely with David, Ps. 
xxvi. 6, ' I \\\\\ wash my hands in innocency, O Lord : and so will I compass 
thine altar.' Wisdom is a fair daughter in this progeny, 'Bind the sacri- 
fice with cords to the altar.' 

Confidence. — The youngest daughter of this fair sisterhood is Faith. 
Copious matter of discourse might here be offered me about the site, 
matter, fashion of the altar ; and to what purpose these four horns of the 
altar served : ' Bind the sacrifice with cords to the horns of tlic altar.' 

Perhaps many precious mines of mysteries might here be found out, which 
* Elh., lib. vi., cap. 5. 



] og THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. [SeRMON X. 

I di" not fi>r. Among divers other ends, I find that these horns of the altar 
were for refuge ; and guilty men did flee unto them for fear of the law. 1 
Kings i. 50, ' Adonijah feared because of Solomon, and arose, and went, and 
caught hold on the horns of the altar.' So Joab, in the next chapter, ver. 
2S,° fled to the tabernacle of the Lord, and caught hold on the horns of the 
altar.' They fled thither in a hoj^eful confidence of mercy. 

Christ i.s our altar, Heb. xiii. 10 ; his merits the horns of the altar. Ver, 
15, 'By huu therefore let us ofi'er the sacrifice of praise to God continually, 
that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name.' Our faith must 
catch hold on these horns, Christ's merits, that our sacrifice may be ac- 
ceptable. 

The law of God shall surprise us, and the sword of eternal death shall kill 
us, if we bind not our sacrifice to the horns of the altar ; if we rest not upon 
the all-suflicient merits of Jesus Christ. 

TJiis is the mother of her, of whom she is also the daughter. It may be 
said of these, as the poet of ice and water, the mother brings forth the 
daughter, and the daughter brings forth the mother. 

All her .sisters are beholden to hex-. Never a damsel of Israel dares enter 
Aliasuerus's court but she. She alone must bring all graces to the horns of 
the altar. blessed Faith, ' many daughters have done virtuously, but thou 
excellest them all !' Pro v. xxxi 29. ' Bind, then, the sacrifice with cords, even 
unto the horns of the altar.' 

You hear the mother and her children : these are the daughters that true 
Devotion bringeth forth. Compare we our progeny with these, and we shall 
find that we bring forth daughters of another countenance. 

Distinguish this land of ours (let the word divide be held heresy in man- 
ners) into four C's — Court, City, Country, Church. 

The CouH may be said to have three daughters — as Fulco boldly told 
Richard the First * — which are vicious, and of a wicked disposition. The 
king an.swered, he had no daughters at all. Fulco said, he cherished three in 
his court that were no better than strumpets ; and therefore wished him 
tim.ely to provide them husbands, or else they would undo liim and his realm. 
The angry king would have them named. Fulco told him they were Pride, 
Avarice, and Luxury. The blushing, penitent, and discreet prince confessed, 
and resolved to bestow them. So he gave Pride to the Templars, Avarice to 
the Cistercian monks, and Luxury to the Popish prelates : the like matches, 
as fitter then in England could not be found for them. 

The City hath four daughters too : Fraud, Uypoo'isy, Usury, Sensuality. 
Let me say, the breeding and indulgence to such daughters shame you. 
Siiall I tell you how to cast tlicm away upon husbands ? ISlarry Fraud to 
the professed cheaters. Bestow (Jmry upon the brokers. Banish Sensuality 
to tlic forest, to see if any beast will take it up. And for Hypocrisy wed it 
to the brain-sick separatist, though you send it to them with a letter of mart 
to Amsterdam. 

The Country hath three daughters : Ignorance, Uncharitableness, and III- 
cu.otom. Ignorance they might bestow on the Papists ; they will make much 
of it. Let them send Uncli.aritableness to the savages and Saracens ; and 
Ill-cmtom to the Jews, who will rather keep their customs than their 
Saviour. 

For the Church; we have but two children, and those none of our own 
breeding neither, though we arc fain to bring them up with patience, Povertjf 
and Contempt ; and take thenx who will, so we were rid of them. 
* Acts and Monu. 



Ps. CXVIII. 27.] THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. 127 

These are not the daughters of Devotion, but the wretched brood of our 
indevotion. 

Tliere are amongst us — 

1. Some that will not bind. 

2. Some that will l)ind, but not with cords. 

3. Some that will bind with cords, but not the sacrifice. 

4. Some that -will bind the sacrilice with cords, but not to the altar, 

5. Some that will bind the sacrifice with cords to the altar, but not to the 
horns of the altar. 

1. Some will not bind; nay, they will not be bound. There are so many 
religions in the world, that they will be tied to none of them. Such a one is 
like a loose tooth in the head, of little use, of much trouble. Their trepi- 
dations are more shaking than cold ague-fits ; their staggers worse than a 
drunkard's. 

A feather in the air, a vane on the house, a cock-boat in the sea, are less 
inconstant. The course of a dolphin in the water, of a buzzard in the air, 
of a whore in the city, is more certain. They are full of farraginous and 
bullinioug mixtures ; pour them forth into liberty, and they run ^vilder than 
quicksilver on a table. 

But let a good man be, as John Baptist was commended by our Saviour, 
' no reed shaken with the wind.' Let our actions have ballast, our affections 
balance. Be we none of those that will not bind. 

2. Some will bind, but not with cords. They will take on them an out- 
ward profession, but not be fervent in it : they will not bind themselves to 
devotion, as the Philistines bound Samson mth new withs or with new 
ropes, Judg. xvi, ; but only with a rush, or a hair, or a twine-thread of cold- 
ness. 

A sermon or a mass is all one to them ; they come with equal devotion 
to either. All the religion in the world with these Gergesenes is not worth 
a flitch of bacon. For handfiils of barley and morsels of bread you may win 
them to worship the ' queen of heaven,' Jer. xliv. 17. 

Their lukewarmness is so ofiensive that they trouble all stomachs. God 
shall spue them out of the church, the earth shall spue them into the grave, 
and the grave shall spue them into hell. 

3. Some will bind, and with cords, but not the sacrifice. Such are the 
utterly irreligious, the openly profane. They have their cords to bind, but 
they will not meddle with the sacrifice, devotion. The prophet Isaiah gives 
them a Vce for their labour, chap. v. 18, ' Woe unto them that draw iniquity 
with cords of vanity, and sin as it were with a cart-rope!' But in a just 
quittance for their strong-haled wickedness, they draw on their own destruc- 
tion with cords, and damnation as it were with a cart-rope. So those fimes 
peccatorum that Solomon speaks of, Prov. v. 22, shall be rewarded : ' His 
own iniquities shall take the wicked himself, and he shall be holden with the 
cords of his sins.' There is such a concatenation of their wickedness, — riot- 
ini:, swearing, drunkenness, whoredom, — that at last the cord's end reaches to 
helL 

Their whole life is but like a firework, that runs along the rope of wick- 
edness, till at last he goes out in the grave, and is rekindled in the flaming 
pit. They bind sin sure to themselves with cords, and with the same cords 
the devil binds them as fast to him. They shall speed as himself doth, and 
be at last bound with the cords or chains of darkness. 

The magistrate should do well, in meantime, to bind them with material 
cords of severe punishment. Chain up their feet from brothel-houses, 



12S 



T1I£ SACRIFICE OF TUANKFULNESS. [SeRMON X. 



inaniiclc their hands from slaughters ; give them the cords of correction, lest 
at last by a cord they depart the world. 



asc 



The three speciid twists of this cord are — drunkenness, whoredom, cozen- 

e. If you could untwine these three, and separate them, there were some 
hope of breaking them all. You say, on their deprehension they have sure 
punishment ; be as careful to find them out. But it is reported you have 
roused these sins from their old nests, and sent them home to your own 
houses. Cheating winds into some of your own shops ; adultery^ creeps 
into some of your own chambers; and, I know not how, sometimes justices 
and magistrates have whipped drunkenness out of the alehouse into their 
own cellars. 

There is one amongst us that is a terrible bmder, and that is the usurer. 
He binds strangely, strongly, with the cords of obligations. You know he 
that enters into obligation is said to come into bonds ; it is all one, into 
cords. This man's whole life is spent in tying of knots ; his profession is 
cordage. And for this cause he is beloved of the cord-makers, for setting 
them on work ; and of nobody else. 

This fellow binds, but he will never bind the sacrifice ; his conscience shall 
be loose enough. I could say much to this binder, if there Avere any hope 
of him. But I remember a true story that a friend told me of a usurer. 
There was a godly preacher in his parish, that did beat doT\ii Avith all just 
convictions and honest reproofs that sin. Many usurers flocked to his church, 
because he was a man of note. Among the rest, this usurer did bid him 
often to dinner, and used him very kindly. Not long after, this preacher 
began to forbear the touching usury, not in any connivance or partiality, but 
because he had dealt plentifully with it, and now his text led him not to it. 
Now beguis the usurer to be heavy, sorrowing, and discontent, and turned 
former kindness into suUenness. The preacher must needs observe it, and 
boldly asked him the reasons of this sudden aversion. The usurer replied, 
If you had held on your first course to inveigh against usury, I had some 
hope you would have put all the usurers down, and so I should have had 
the better vent and custom for my money. For my part, say what you will, 
I never meaut to leave it ; but I should have been beholden to you if you 
could have made me a usurer alone. You see the hope of a usurer's con- 
version. 

But I would to God that every one thus bound with the cords of wick- 
edness would consider, that so long as a cord is whole it is not easily broken; 
but untwist it, and lay it thread by thread, and you may snap it asunder. 
Beloved, first untwine the cord of your sins by serious consideration, and 
then you may easily break them off by repentance, 

4. Some will bind with cords, yea, and the sacrifice, but not to the altar. 
There are many of these in our land : they bind the sacrifice exceeding fast 
to themselves, not to the altar. All the altaragia, the dues that belong to 
them that serve at God's altar, and which the laws of God and man bound 
to the altar, they have loosened, and bound to themselves and their heirs. 

These bind the .sacrifice, and with cords, but not to the right place ; nay, 
I would to God they would bind no more. But now the fashion is to hold 
God to custom; and if a poor minister demand those remanents which are 
left to the altar, he is overthrown by custom. Oh the pity of God, that Eng- 
land shouKl have any such custom ! 

And for you that never think yourselves well but when you have bound 
tlic sacrilice to yourselves; and imagine that the milk or fleece of your flocks, 
which God hath tithed for himself, is too good for the minister; and will 



Ps. CXVIII. 27.] THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. 129 

either astu or armls, with force of law or craft of cozening, keep it to your- 
selves ; that will plead the rate of a penny in law for a pound in conscience ; 
chop and change your sheep, to defraud Christ of his tenth fleece; — know, 
that as you bind the sacrifice from the altar, so yuu shall have no comfort 
by the altar, but the justice of God shall bind you from his mercy. Though 
you may repent, — which if you restore not, is impossible, and your resti- 
tution is improbable, — yet for the present the devil hath eleven points of the 
law against you ; that is, possession. 

5. Lastly, some bind the sacrifice with cords to the altar, but not to the 
horns of the altar. These are deficient in a special degree of devotion — faith. 
They have many good moral virtues ; but they want that which should make 
both their virtues and themselves acceptable to God, faith in his Son Jesus 
Christ. It is a vain devotion whence this is excluded; the law finds no 
works righteous. But quod lex openiin minando imperat, lex fidei credendo 
impetrat* — what the law of works commanded with threatening, the law of 
faith obtains by believing. Afly we then the merits of o\ir blessed Saviour, 
who is our only refuge, and take fast hold on the horns of the altar : * Bind 
the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar.' 

The Sum. — To gather these scattered branches to their root; now we have 
cast over the particulars, let us sum them. The sum is our thankfulness : 
* Bind the sacrifice with cords,' tic. 

Ingratitude hath been ever held a monster, a preternatural thing; one of 
those privations and deficiencies which God never made, but the devil thrust 
in upon the absence of the positive and primitive virtues. Hereupon we call 
an ungrateful person an unnatural man. 

No man wonders at dogs, and wolves, and foxes; but at satyrs, and cen- 
taurs, and such monsters in nature, all gaze upon. Ebriety, adultery, avarice, 
though ecpially heinous, are less odious, because they have nature and cus- 
tom on their side; but an unthankful person named, we all detest, as a 
solecism in sense, a paradox in manners, a prodigy in nature. 

To demonstrate this sin to be so far from humanity, that the very beasts 
abhor it : — There is a .story of a poor man that w^ent often to a forest to 
gather sticks, where suddenly one day he heard the voice of a man in dis- 
tress. Making towards it, he found a rich neighbour fallen into a deep pit ; 
and together with him an ape, a lion, and a serpent. He made his moan, 
being endangered both of the pit and of the beasts. Pity and charity moved 
the poor man to help the rich, and that seldom moves the rich to help the 
poor. He lets down the cord wherewith he bound his sticks, and up comes 
the ape. Again he puts for the man, and the lion ascends. A third offer 
he makes, and the serpent takes the advantage. Last he draweth up the 
man, who, freed by his help from instant death, promised him a bounteous 
recpiital, if on the next day he did visit him. The poor man affying his 
word, came to him accordingly, in a hopeful expectation of reward. But 
now the rich man would not know him. He hath forgotten that ever he 
stood in any need of him, and impudently denies him any recompense. The 
discomforted poor man is fain to travel the forest again for his fuel, where 
the ape sjiying him, had ready broken, with his teeth and nails, sticks enough 
for his burden : there was his utmost gratitude. Another day coming, the 
lion approacheth him, presenting to him divers laden camels, which driving 
home and disburdening, he found precious treasure that enriched him. A 
third time, upon other occasions travelling the forest, the serpent, creeping, 
salutes him with a precious stone in her mouth, letting it fail at her saver's 
•Aug. 

VOL. I. 1 



130 THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFUI.NESS. [SeEMON X. 

feet. The intent of the fable is to demonstrate that beasts and serpents con- 
demn man of ingratitude. 

You will say this is but a fiction ; then hear a truth : Isa. i. 3, ' The ox 
knoweth his ow)ier, and the ass his master's crib : but Israel doth not 
know, my people doth not consider.' The very beast looketh to his master's 
hand that feeds him. 

The vice is so horrible, that God need not sit to judge it ; the devil him- 
self will condemn it. AVhen he reasoned with God about Job, he pleads, 
chap. i. 1 0, that God had ' set a hedge about him, and blessed the work of 
his hands;' and therefore implies, * Doth Job serve God for nought V If he 
will be unthankful to a God so kind, Satan himself will censure him. It 
must needs be a horrid sin that the devil taxeth and abominates. If we be 
unthankful, we are sure to be condemned ; for if God would not condemn it, 
the devil will. An ungrateful man, then, in some sort, is worse than the 
deviL 

lien and brethren, let us be thankful. Let our meditations travel with 
David, in the 118th Psalm, first up into heaven : ver. 1, even the very ' hea- 
vens and heights praise him;' and those blessed angels in his court sing 
his glory. Descend we then by the celestial bodies, ver. 3, and we shall find 
' the sun, moon, and all the stars of light praising him.' Pass we by the 
waters, ver. 4, Which the Maker's decree hath confined there, and we shall 
hear these praising him. A Little lower, ver. 8, we shall perceive the meteors 
and upper elements, the ' fire and hail, snow and vapour, magnifying him ;' 
even the ' wind and storms fulfilling his word.' Fall we upon the centre, 
the very earth, we shall hear the ' beasts and cattle, mountains and hills, 
fruitful trees and all cedars, extolling his name.' The chirping birds sing 
sweet psalms and carols to their Creator's praise every morning when they rise, 
every evening ere they go to rest. Not so much as the very ' creeping things,' 
saith the Psalmist, noisome dragons, and crawling serpents in the deep, but 
they do, in a sort, bless their Maker. Let not then man, the first-fruits of 
his creatures, for whose service all the rest were made, be unthanlcful. If 
the.se, much more let all ' kings of the earth, and all people ; princes, and all 
judges of the world; young men and maidens, old men and children, praise 
the name of the Lord,' ver. 11, 12. 

There are some that ' kiss their own hands,' Job xxxi. 27, for every good 
tuni that befalls them. God giveth them blessings, and their own wit or 
strength hath the praise. Others receive them but as due debt, as if God 
were obliged to them. But, alas ! ' What hast thou,' O man, that is good, 
' that thou hast not received V Thou hast not a rag to thy back, nor a bit 
to thy belly, nor a good hair on thy head, nor a good thought in thy heart 
but God giveth it. 

Our i;vils are properly our own. Omnia mea mala pure sunt mala, et inea 
sunt ; ovinia mea bona pure sunt bona, et mea non sxint^^ — All my evils are 
truly evil, and mine own ; all my good tlungs are truly good, but none of my 
own. Now, is not the Author of all good, good enough to be remembered 1 
When the benefits are gotten, must the benefactor be forgotten ? And shall 
thanks wax old whiles .gifts are new 1 Boni siquid habeo, a Deo sumpsi, non 
a me pra-sumpsi ? t— Siiall we then set the receivers in the place of the 
giver, and worship ourselves ? 

This is a sacrik-gious theft. The steaUng of temporal goods may be re- 
quited with restitution ; but the purloining of God's glory can never be an- 
swered. These are sul)tle thieves : for though heaven be sure and secure 
• Hugo. I ^ 



Ps. CXVIII. 27.] THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. 131 

enough from violent robbers, yet tlie.se by a wily insidiation enter into it, and 
rob God of his honour. Other tliieves steal for necessity, and but froni 
their equals, men. These filch from God his holy right, and that out of a 
scornful jiride. 

It would here be examined whether England hath any ground in it guilty 
of this barren ingi-atitude. If I should fall to discoursing the favours of God, 
rained in such plentlfid showers upon us, — our peace, plenty, tranquillity, and 
all those gifts of his left hand ; together with that grace of his right, which bless- 
eth all the rest, and wthout Avhicli they were but a summer without a spring, 
full of heat, but infertile, the gospel, — ^j'ou would say, Satis Juec, We have 
heard this often enough, ad nauseam usque. A sermon of such repetition i» 
but like a suit of the old make. Your curious ears are too fine for such re- 
cognitions. You think we never speak of these things but for want of othei 
matter. 

The wonders which God wrought in Egypt by Tyloses, in Canaan by Joshua, 
were commanded to be proclaimed to all succeeding generations. How many 
psalms did this sweet 'singer of Israel' compose of this subject? How 
many excellent sermons did the prophets preach when they had no other 
ground or text but those principles ? Neither did the people fling away 
from before the pidpit with — We have heard these things often enough ; 
they are tedious. 

God's mercies to us shall vie in weight and number with theirs. We are, 
if not their parallel, yet their second in the favours of heaven. God hath 
hedged us in with his providence, and ' compassed us about with songs of 
deliverance.' We are the plant of his own hand, and he contmually waters 
us with the saving showers of his gospel. We need not travel to our 
neighbours' cisterns ; every man hath his own well, and such a well as yields 
the water of life, if we woidd bring buckets with us — ears of attention, and 
hearts of retention — to draw it out withal. What nation, so far as the world 
is christened, hath so many learned divines 1 Neither is this learning like 
a coal, burning to themselves, but a bright lamp shining to us. Even those 
reverend fathers that sit at the stern of the church, and charge their minds 
with her greatest troubles, are yet continually preaching to some particular 
congregation. It cannot be denied but the ' Lord hath shewed us light.' 

Now where be the fruits that he must look for 1 I dare scarcely enter 
into this search, as the elephant refuseth to drink in a clear water, lest he 
should see his own deformity. I fear to find the respondency of the deeds 
of darkness. I know God hath his number amongst us ; I hope it is not 
small. God every day increase it, to liis glory and the church's comfort ! 
Let me have freedom to speak generally. 

Beloved, our lives shame us. If men and angels should hold their peace, 
our own open and manifest iniquities will proclaim us unthankful. Fraud 
in our houses, dnnikenness in our streets, oppression in our fields, adultery 
in comers, injustice on seats, impiety in our temples, rapine upon our temples, 
devastation of our temples, at lea.st of the means that God hath given them : 
these, these are the fruits too many of us return for God's mercies. Thus, 
thus do we adorn the go.spel. 

The greatness of God's kindness to us we strive to match with our unkind- 
ness to God. He that in his own person stood for our defence, and bore 
the heat and burden of the day for us, hath this requital, to have his cause 
put off to others. We dare not stand for his glory. Coidd we else brook 
his holy days profaned, holy name abused, lioly church despised, his servants 
impoverished, if we were as kind to him as he is to us ? 



232 THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. [SeEMON X. 

Whereas every man hath a charge for God's glory, we put it off from one 
to another : the poor man to the rich, and says he should look to these dis- 
orders • the rich man to the minister ; the minister, after a hearty dehorta- 
tion, to the magistrate. But stiU wickedness holds up the head, and the 
heat of rebellion is not qualified. . i ..i r ^i 

It is storied of a certain king, that fightmg a desperate battle, for the re- 
covery of his dauf'hter injuriously stolen from him, found ill success, and 
the day utterly against him ; till by the faithful valour of a strange prmce, 
disf-uised in habit of a mean soldier, that pitied his loss, and bore love to 
his^dau^hter, he recovered both her and victory; the prince interposing him- 
self to hazard of death and many wounds for the other's redemption. Not 
Ion"- after, this prince received some wrong concerning his honour, which he 
deservedly prized. He made his complaint to the king, and besought him to 
give a just censure of his cause. The forgetful khig put him over to a 
judi^e. The prince replies, king, when thou wast lost, I endangered my- 
selffor thy rescue : I did not bid another save thee, but I saved thee myself. 
Lo, the scars of those wounds I bore to free thee and thy state from inevitable 
ruin. And now my suit is before thee, dost thou shuffle me off to another '? 
Such was our case. Satan had stolen our dear daughter, our soul. In 
vain we laboured a recovery; principalities and powers were against us, 
weakness and wretchedness on our sides. Christ the Son of God took pity 
on us ; and though he were an eternal Prince of peace, disguised himself in 
the habit of a common soldier,— i7idue7is foymam se/'i'i,— putting on him the 
' likeness of a servant,' undertook this war against our too strong enemies, 
set himself betwixt us and death, bore those wounds which should have 
lighted on us. By no angel nor saint, by no gold or precious minerals, did 
he redeem us, but by his own grievous sufferings. Now his glory is in ques- 
tion, his name, his honour is abused, dear to him as his own majesty, we 
stand by and behold it : he appeals to our censure, remembers us of the 
wounds, passions, sorrows he endured for us ; we put him off from one to 
another, and let the cause of him that saved us fall to a loss. Who shall 
plead for our ingratitude 1 Heaven and earth, sun and stars, orbs and ele- 
ments, angels and devils, will cry shame upon us. 

If we ask now, as the wicked will at the latter day, Matt, xxv., ' Lord, 
when saw we thee hungry, and did not feed theel when naked, and did not 
clothe thee ? ' — when was thy cause before us, which we defended not ?— 1 
answer. Any day, every day, when we hear swearers wound and tear his 
holy name in pieces ; when we see idolaters give his honour to carved or 
painted blocks ; when ruffians speak contemptibly of his holy rites ; when 
liis sabbaths, sacraments, word, ministers, are vilipended, ourselves standing 
by with a guilty silence. Oh, which of us hath not been guilty of this in- 
gratitude ! 

It was the cxprobration of Athens, that she suffered those men to die in 
exile, ignominy, oblivion, that with their virtuous endeavouis had reared 
her up on the pillars of fame. Miltiadcs, Aristidcs, Solon, Thocion ; UOi 
vixciv.nt i uOijuceidf — Where lived they *? where lie they? Their worthy 
acts gave glory to that city, and that city covered them with the inglorious 
dust of ob.scurity. So the Lord Jesus had made us live that were dead, and 
We do what we can to let his living name die amongst us. 
The Grecians had a proverb amongst them against them — 

' Pro mcritis male tractarunt Agamemnona Graii ; ' — 
Ai^amemuon, for the honour of Greece, had done great service to the 



Ps. CXVIII. 27.] TlIK SACRIFICE OK THANKFULNESS. 133 

conquest and subversion of Troy ; and when lie came home was slain by his 
■ own wife, Clytemnestra, by the help of ^yisthus, the adulterer. Christ 
loved us as his "wife, endowed us with all his own riches ; conquers Troy for 
us, subdues all our enemies; and returning home, when he expects to find 
peace and kind entertainment in our hearts, we fall to vexing and wounding 
him, forsaking his love, and cleaving to the world in a cursed adultery. So 

' Dulceiu pro mentis tractarnus acerrime Christum,' — 

So bitterly do we requite our sweet Saviour for his mercies. 

Scipio had made Kome kdy of Africa. And coming home with triumph 
over that and Hannibal, the senate banished him into a base village ; where 
dying, he commanded this sculpture to be engraven on his tomb : Ingmta 
patria, ne ossa quidem mea //a6es,— Unthankful country, thou hast not so 
much as my very bones. ]\Iany and mighty deliverances hath the Lord 
given us : from furious Amalckites, that came with a navy, as they bragged, 
able to fetch away our land in turfs ; from an angry and raging pestilence, 
that turned the popular streets of this city into solitude ; from a treason 
wherein men conspired with devils, for hell was brought up to their conjura- 
tions, and a whole brewing of that salt sulphur was tunned up in baiTcls for 
us to drink. 

Behold, and kiss the feet of his mercy. We are delivered by Jesus Christ 
from all these miseries and mischiefs. Oh, let us not voluntarily call upon 
ourselves a worse than all these by our own unthankfulness. Let not Clirist 
say, Ingmta Anglia, ne ossa quidem mea hahes, — Unthankful England, thou 
hast not so much as (my bones) the prints and sensible impressions of these 
favours in thy memory. Thou hast shut thy Saviour out of thy miiid, and 
buried him in neglectful oblivion. Take heed, lest in a just quittance he 
exclude thee from his thoughts, and forget to do thee any more good ; lest 
he take away his name, his glory, his light, his gospel from thee, and bestow 
it on those unchristened borders where now his great majesty is not adored. 

How justly might he leave us in our former wretchedness ! There is a 
pretty fable, the moral of it will profitably fit our present discourse. A 
serpent accidentally enclosed betwixt two great stones, that he could no 
ways extricate himself, made his moan to a man passing by to deliver him. 
The man with much force removed the stone, and set him free. Tbe ser- 
pent now feeling his liberty, thus bespake his deliverer : I confess you have 
done me kindness in helping me out, being almost famished ; but now I am 
out, my hunger is so violent, that I must needs take the benefit of my for- 
tune, and devour you. The man urged his ingratitude, but to no purpose, 
for the serpent would eat him. Instantly he si)ied an ass coming, and de- 
sired the serpent to put it to his judgment. The serpent was contented, 
knowing that the ass durst not but condemn the man for his prey, lest he 
endangered himself The case was pleaded on both sides ; the man urging 
his kindness, the serpent his hunger. But the ass gave judgment on^the 
serpent's side, who is now ready to set on the man. Hereupon files by an 
eagle, to whom the man appealed for judgment in this controversy. The 
eagle hearing the cause debated, demanded of the serpent if he could have 
freed himself vnthout the man's aid. The serpent answered aflirmatively, 
and said it was only his poUcy by this trick to get the man within his reach. 
The eagle desires to see the place, the man shews it. The eagle bids the 
serpent go into the hole again for the- mcjre certain demonstration. The ser- 
pent doth so, and the man removes the other stone as it was before, and 
re-encloseth the serpent. The eagle now bids the serpent deliver himself; 



23.1 THE SACKirlCE or TilANK-FULKESS. [SeRMONX. 

he replied he could not. Then, quoth the eagle, this is my judgment : the 
next time the man lets thee forth, do thou take him for thy prey, and eat 
him. 

It cannot be denied but we were once surer in Satan's hold than this ser- 
pent is imaguicd to be between the stones. The man Christ Jesus in pity 
redeemed us and gave us liberty. We are no sooner out but we fall to de- 
vour him ; to make his i)oor members, liis poor ministers our prey ; to wound 
his name with blasphemies ; to steal his goods with sacrilege ; and to give his 
honour either to other creatures or to our own wits, as if we could have 
deUvercd ourselves. Let any be judge but the ass, our own flesh and blood, 
and we are sure to be condemned for ingratitude. But if Christ should, in 
his justice, put us again into our former hole, leave us in the power of Satan, 
who would not say with the eagle, the next time he sets us free, let us take 
him for our booty, and devour our Redeemer ? 

It is recorded of Alexander, an emperor famoused for his liberality, and 
of JuUus Ciesar, no less commended for his patience, that the former would 
never give, nor the other forgive, an ungrateful person. Wretched were we 
if the Lord should withhold from us either of these mercies : if he should 
shut up the flood-gates of his bounty, and cease giving ; or lock up the 
treasure-house of mercy, and leave forgiving. If he should neither donare 
bona sua, nor condonare mala nostra, woe unto us ! We might curse our births, 
)r rather om- ingratitude. 

We hope still God wiU be merciful to us for Christ's sake ; so God of us, 
tie hopes we will be obedient to him for Christ's sake. Petimusque, damusque 
vlcissim. As we expect God should save us for the merits of his Son, so 
God exiiccts we should serve him for the merits of his Son. If the bitter 
suffermgs and heart-blood of Jesus cannot get of us the forbearance of ini- 
quity, how shall it get for us the forgiveness of iniquity? As we entreat 
God, for his mercy, to be good to us ; so God entreats us, for his mercy, to 
be good to him, and therein most good to ourselves. 

Oh, let that goodness that reconciles us both prevail with us both ! With 
God, to bless us by his bountifulness ; with us, to bless God by our thankful- 
ness. Wliat should I say 1 For Jesus Christ's sake, let us be thankful. Ps. 
xcii. 1, ' It is a good thing to give thanks to the Lord,' saith our Psalmist. 
Good for the virtue of the action ; good for the excellency of the object ; 
good for the happiness of the retribution. 

For the action ; it is better to bless than to curse. Ptom. xii. 14, ' Bless 
thciii that persecute you ; bless, and curse not.' 

Fur the object ; our praises are sung to a most glorious God, one that is 
bcaiity itself, Ps. xxvii. 4, and only worthy to ' inhabit the praises of Israel' 

For the nitribution ; if we bless God, God will bless us : as one notes 
that all David's psahns were either Ilosanna or Hallelvjah, — that is, ' God 
bless,' or 'God be blessed;' either a prayer for mercy or a praise for mercy. 
Ascendat ergo gratia ut descendat gratia ; iov gratlarum cessat decursus, ubi 
recursus 7W)i fuerU,~Grncfi will not come down unless gratitude go up; all 
rivers run back to the sea, whence they were first derived. 

Let U.9 send up our gifts to God, that he may send down his gifts to us. 
I^t us not nti dntia, tanquam innatls, but remember that we hold all in 
cnpite, and are suitors to the court of heaven ; worthy to forfeit our estates 
if wo pay not the quit-rout of thaulcfulness, acknowledge not gratitude and 
obedience. 

tJod will not long calulis indidgere luporum, pamper the wolves' whelps, 
a.H the proverb speaks; but he will forget them that forget him. We have 



Ps. CXVIII. 27.] TUE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. 135 

a saying from Aristotle, Nee in puerum, nee in senem coUocandtini esse hene- 
ficium, — That our beiieliceuce should not be fixed upon a child or an old 
man ; for the child, before he comes to age •wUl forget it, and the old man 
will die before he can requite it. ^\j:e we all either children or old men, that 
we cither not remember, or not return thaukfuhiess to God for his mercies 1 
Yet, saith the Psalmist, Ps. cxlviii. 12, ' Old men and chUdren, praise the 
name of the Lord.' 

With liim let us then say, ' ^Vhat shall we render to the Lord for all his 
benefits towards us^' Ps. cxvi. 12. David was inward with God; yet he 
studied what present he should offer him. He lights upon that which he 
was only able to give, and God most willing to receive, thankfulness. ' I 
will take the cup of salvation, and bless the name of the Lord-' Pray we 
then to God to give us thankfulness, that we may give it him ; for of 
ourselves we have not what to give, unless the Lord give us wherewith to 
give. 

Let us ' shew forth his loving-kindness in the morning, and his faithful- 
ness every night,' Ps. xcii. 2. Morning and evening let us praise him, that 
hath made the day for our labour, and the night for our rest ; and that not 
ex iisic, magls quam sensu, but with a hearty humility. ' Give unto the Lord 
the glory due to his name ; bring your sacrifice, and come into his courts,' 
Ps. xcvi. 8. Let no opportunity steal by neglected, but ' rejoice in the Lord, 
ye righteous ; and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness,' Ps. xcvii. 
12. No garment better becomes you, though you have almost put it out of 
fashion, than to praise the Lord ; for ' praise is comely for the righteous,' 
Ps. xxxiii. 1. 

Thanksgiving is the best sauce to our meat, and blcsseth all the dishes on 
the table. ' When thou hast eaten, and art full, thou shalt bless the Lord 
thy God,' Deut. viii. 10. Whether we eat or drink, w^ork or rest, let us set 
that golden posy on all our labours which the angel to Zechariah gave of the 
headstone, ' Grace, grace unto it,' chap. iv. 7. He spake pleasant truth that 
said. He that riseth from the table without giving of thanks, goes his way 
and owes for his ordinary. He is unthankful that is unmindful of a benefit, 
uuthanlcful that requites it not, unthanlvful that dissembles it, but most 
unthankful that denies it. Though we cannot requite God's favour, we wiU 
neither forget it, nor dissemble it, nor deny it. 

I have purposely been liberal in this doctrine ; neither beg I pardon for 
prolixity. It was necessary for the text ; no less for our times. ' God hath 
shewed us his light,' and we bring forth the works of darkness. 

We say we all are thankful Our words wiU not pass with God without 
our deeds. Our w^ords are so fickle and false, that we dare not trust one 
another without manuscripts. Scriveners must be employed in all our com- 
merce ; and shall God take our words, with whom we have broke so often ? 
No, beloved, we must set our hands to it ; and, to speak to our capacity in 
the city, seal it, and deliver it as our act and deed. We must work that 
which is good. 

I appeal from men's lips to their lives. Verba rebus probate, saith Seneca, — 
The form, the life, the soul of thankfulness is obedience. We, like blind Isaac, 
cannot see your hearts, but say, ' Let me feel thee, my son.' If your lives 
be rugged, like the hands of Esau, we dare not trust your voice for the voice 
of Jacob. If your deeds be rough, and sensible of rebellion, in vain you tell 
us you are thankful. It is somewhat that you * enter into his courts, and 
speak good of his name,' Ps. c. 4 ; but you must also do good for his name, 
and you shall be blessed. I have begmi and wUl end with a psalm : Ps. xcv. 



130 THE SACRIFICE OF THANKFULNESS. [SeEMONX. 

1-3, ' come, then, let us sing unto the Lord ; let us rejoice to the rock of 
our salvation. Let us come before his presence with thanksgi\dng, and make 
a joyful noise to him with psalms. For the Lord is a great God, and a great 
King above all gods.' ' God is the Lord, that hath shewed us light : bmd 
the sacrifice with cords, even to the horns of the altar.' 



GOD'S BOUNTY; 

OB, 

THE BLESSINGS OF BOTH HIS HANDS. 

(THE FIRST SERMON.) 



Length of days is in her right hand ; and in her left hand riches and 
honour. — Prov. III. 16. 

By Wisdom here we understand the Son of God, the Saviour of man. In 
the first to the Corinthians, chap. i. 24, he is called the 'wisdom of God.' 
Col. ii. 3, * In him are hid all the treasures of wdsdom and knowledge.' 

Wisdom is formerly commended for her beauty, here for her bounty : 
' Length of days is in her right hand ; in her left, riches and honour.' Con- 
ceive her a glorious queen sitting on a throne of majesty, and calling her 
children about her, to the participation of those riches which from everlast- 
ing she had decreed them. 

Not to travel far for distribution, the parts of this text are as easily dis- 
tinguished as the right hand from the left. Here be two hands, and they 
contain two sorts of treasures. The right hand hath in it ' length of days ;' 
the left, ' riches and honour.' 

The right hand is, upon good reason, preferred, both for its own worth 
whereby it excels, and for the worth of the treasure which it contains. It 
hath ever had the dignity, as the dexterity. 

Length of days is the treasure it holds. This cannot be properly under- 
stood of this mortal life, though the sense may also stand good with such an 
interpretation. ' For by me,' saith Wisdom, ' thy days shall be multiplied, 
and the years of thy life shall be increased,' Prov. ix. 11. Wisdom is the 
mother of abstinence, and abstinence the nurse of health ; whereas voluptu- 
ousness and intemperance, as the French proverb hath it, digs its own grave 
with the teeth. 

But all a man's wisdom cannot keep him still alive. Eccles. ii. 16,' The 
wise man dieth as the fool,' saith Solomon. And the father of Solomon 
excludes it from having power to. keep a man ; Ps. xlix. 9, ' That he should 
live still for ever, and not see corruption,' Methusalem lived nine hundred 
sixty and nine years ; yet he was the sou of Enoch, who was the son of 



138 god's bounty. [Sermon XL 

Jared, who was the son of Mahalaleel, who was the son of Cainan, who was 
the sou of Enos, who was the son of Seth, who was the sou of Adam, who 
was the son of dust. The best constitutions, that communicate in the san- 
guine of the rose and snow of the lily, have this parentage ; they are the 
sons and daughters of dust. 

This ' length,' then, is not subject to the poles, nor are these 'days' mea- 
sured by the sun in his zodiac ; all is pitched above the wheel of changeable 
mortality. It is eternity that fills the right hand of Wisdom. 

Length of days. — Days for the clarity ; length for the eternity. 

Days. — Man's life in this world is called a day — a short day, a sharp day. 
Short ; for instat vesper, it is not sooner morning, but it is presently night. 
The sun of life quickly sets, after it is once risen. Sharp; for misery is born 
with life, brought up with life, and to the good dies with life ; to the wicked 
rcmauis in death. Like Hippocrates's twins, inseparable in their beginning, 
process, end. So that aged patriarch to Pharaoh, Gen. xlvii. 9, ' My days 
have been few and evil.' So Job, chap. xiv. 1, ' Man is of few days, and many 
troubles.' Aniimd revi hrevissimi, solicitiidinis injinike* And Paul calls it 
'the evil day,' Eph. vi. 13. It is somewhat to comfort, that though it be 
sharp, evil, yet it is but short — a day. Eph. v. 16, ' Redeem the time, for 
the days are evU.' But howsoever semper mcdi dies in seculo, yet semper 
honi dies in Domino, as Augustine sweetly, (in Ps. xxsiii.), — Though the 
world hath always evil days, yet God hath always good days. 

And this day shall have no night. N'ox nan erit illic, — Rev. xxi. 25 
* There shall be no night.' The sun that enlightens it cannot be eclipsed 
Ver. 23, ' That city hath no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine 
in it : for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light of it.' 
No clouds shall draw a veil of obscurity over it. Here, the light of the sun 
darkens the moon, and the moon obscures the lustre of the stars ; some- 
times t half the earth is in light, and the rest in darkness. But in these 
days, albeit ' there is one glory of the sun, another of the moon, and another 
of the stars, and one star differeth from another star in glory,' 1 Cor. xv. 41 ; 
yet the light of one incrcascth the light of another, and the glory of one is 
the glory of all. Dispar est gloria singulorum, sed communis Icetitia om- 
niinn.X So, in sum, here we live but a short clay : ' Give us this day our 
daily bread.' But in that world we shall have days, and those good days, 
and great days ; days of eternal length, for they shall have no night. 

Length. — As the glory is clear for the countenance, so it is long for the 
continuance. Nidtiis erit defectus, nidlus terminus. There shall be ceterna 
Juiriln.^, cliara cvternitas. God's eternal decree to choose us in Christ had 
no beginning, but it shall have an end — when the elect are taken up to glory. 
The possession of this decreed inheritance shall have a beginning, but no 
end : 1 Thcss. iv. 17, ' We shall ever be with the Lord.' God's mercy in both 
hath neither beginning nor end, for it is from everlasting to everlasting. 

Here then is both the countenance — it is a clear day ; and the continu- 
ance — it is of length ; the very same length that everlastingncss itself. 
Hczckiah's day was a long day, when, 2 Kings xx. 11, ' the shadow of the 
sun went ten degrees backward in the dial of Ahaz.' Joshua had a long 
day when the sun stood still on Gibeon, and the moon in the valley of Ajalon : 
Josh. X. 11, ' And there was no day like that before it or after it.' But both 
tlifse days had their nights; and the long-forbearing sun at last did set. 
Hero the days arc so h.ng that it shall never be night. You see the clear- 
«e.s.s and the length ; both are expressed, Dan. xii. 3, ' They that be wise shall 
• Petrarch. f Always.— Ed. % Aug. Meclit., cap. 25. 



Pr.ov. III. IC] noi>'s bounty. 139 

shine as the firmament ; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars,' 
there is the clarity ; and that ' for ever and ever,' there is the eternity. 

There is nothing made perfectly happy but by eternity ; as nothing but 
eternity can make perfect misery. Were thy life a continued scene of plea- 
sures, on v/hose stage grief durst never set his unwelcome foot ; were the 
spoil of Noah's ark the cates of thy table ; hadst thou King Solomon's ward- 
robe and treasury ; did the West Indies send thee all her gold, and the East 
her spices ; and all these lyuig by thee whiles a late succession of years without 
cares snows white upon thy head ; thou wert ever indulgent to thyself, and 
health to thee ; — yet suddenly there comes an impartial pursuivant, Death, and 
he hath a charge to take thee away medio de fonte leporum, batlung thyself 
in thy delights. Alas ! what is all thy glory but a short play, full of mirth 
till the last act, and that goes off in a tragedy ? Couldest thou not have made 
Death more welcome if he had found thee lying on a pad of .straw, feeding 
on crusts and water-gruel 1 Is not thy pain the more troublesome because 
thou wast well ? Doth not the end of these temporary joys afflict thee more 
than if they had never been ? Only then eternity can give perfection to 
pleasure ; which because this world cannot afford, let us reckon of it as it is, 
a mere thoroughfare, and desire our home, where we shall be happy for 
ever. 

7« her left hand, riches and honour. — The gift of the rigltt hand is large 
and eternal ; of the left, short and temporal. Yet you see I am short in the 
long part ; give me leave to be long in the short part. Herein we have many 
things considerable : — 

I. That riches and honour are God's gifts. 

II. That aU are not so, but some ; and therefore it is necessary for us to 
leara whether God gave unto us that riches and honour which we have. 

III. That wealth and worship are for the most part companions ; for both 
those gifts lie in one and the same hand. 

IV. That albeit they are his gift-s, yet but the gifts of his left hand. 

I. Eiches and honour are God's gifts, therefore in themselves not evU: 
Sunt Dei dona, ergo in se bona. Saith Augustine,* Ne putentur mala, 
dantur et bonis; ne jndentur sicmma bona, danticr et malis, — That they 
may not be thought evil, they are given to good men ; that they may not be 
thought the best good, they are given also to evil men. A rich man may be 
a good man, and a poor man may be wicked. Christ sanctified riches as 
well as poverty ; and that in his birth, his life, and his death. 

1. In his birth. He sanctified poverty, when his chamber of presence was 
a stable, his cradle a manger, his royal robes coarse rags. He sanctified 
riches, when he received of the wise men precious gifts, Matt. ii. 11, ' Gold, 
frankincense, and myrrh,' — quce si faissent ipsissima mala, dedignatus esset ; 
which, if they had been simply evil, he would not have accepted. 

2. In his life. He sanctified poverty, when he was maintained elecmosynarily, 
having no garment to put on : and the good women kept him by their con- 
tributions. He was glad to borrow an ass-colt when he was to ride ; and to 
angle for money in the sea when he paid tribute; and, as if he wanted a 
bed, to complain. Matt. viii. 20, ' The foxes have holes, the birds of the air 
have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to rest his head.' He sancti- 
fied riches, when he called Zaccheus, a wealthy usurer, Luke xix. 2, and 
raised Lazarus, a wealthy citizen, John xi. ; had his steward, which gave 
alms to the distressed, and bore his purse, Jolm xii. G ; and, Ukc a prince, 
feasted thousands at one banquet. 

* Epist. Ixx. ad Bouif. 



HQ god's bounty. [Seemon XL 

3. In his death. He sanctified poverty, when he had not a grave of his 
own, but was buried in another man's sepulchre, Luke xsiii. 53 ; nay. not a 
sheet to wrap liiui in, but was beholden to another for his linen; and even 
dying, converted a poor malefactor on the cross by him. He sanctified 
richel' when he accepted the kindness of Joseph (whom Matthew calls a 
rich man, chap. xxviL 57 ; Mark, an honourable, chap. xv. 43) for his 
.sepulchre ; and Nicodcmus's costly unction, John xix. 39, even a hundred 
pound weight, mixed with myrrh and aloes. 

Though riches be to some pernicious, a fuming wine which turns their 
brahis ; yet to others they are a vessel, wherein they may with more .speed 
sail to heaven, though no compass, star, or cause to bring them thither. 
Others are called by David viri divitiarum, men of riches, because they 
possess not their riches, but their riches have subjugated them. We have a 
kind of presage, though we conceive it not, in saying of such a one, He is a 
vmn oj wealth. The speech signifies him a slave to his riches ; the wealth 
is not the man s, but the man the wealth's. 

But otherwise a rich man may be a good man ; for wickedness is not 
bound to wealthiness, as heat is to fire ; and arrogancy or lewdness may be 
incident to poverty and baseness. Pauper siiperbus, a poor man proud, 
was one of Cyprian's twelve abuses. A rotten log will yield as much saiiv- 
dust as a piece of good timber ; and a peasant ill-nurtured is also ill-natured. 
A great gentleman wUl shew more humble courtesy than a thrashing hind 
or a toiling ploughman. Hagar was but a gipsy, a bondwoman ; yet was 
her excellent mistress, Sarah, * despised in her eyes,' Gen. xvi. 4. As Jerome 
reproved the monks. Quid facit sub tunica poenitentis regius animus? — so 
not seldom a russet coat shrouds as high a heart as a silken garment. You 
shall have a paltry cottage send up more black smoke than a goodly manor. 
It is not wealth therefore, but vice, that excludes men out of heaven. 

The friars and Jesuits have very strongly and strangely backbited riches ; 
but all their railing on it is but behind the back : secretly and in their hearts 
they love it. When they are out of the reach of eyes, then gold is their sun 
by day, and silver their moon by night. Some of them for enforced want, 
like the fo.x, dispraise the grapes they cannot reach. Or, as Eusebius notes 
of Licinius the emperor, that he used to rail at learning, and to say nothing 
worse became a prince, because himself was illiterate ; so they commend 
nothing more than poverty, because they are, and must be, poor against their 
wills. 

Others of them find fault with riches, whereof they have great store, but 
would that none should covet it beside themselves. So the cozening epicure 
made all his fellow-guests believe that the banquet was poisoned, that all 
they refusing, he might glut himself alone. These often cheat themselves, 
and work tlieir own bane : whiles they so beat off others from the world, 
and wra]) th<'nisclves up in it to tlieir confusion. The fox in the fable, with 
divers other beasts, found a rich booty of costly robes and jewels. He per- 
suades the lion that he needs not trouble himself with them, because he is 
king, and may command all at his pleasure. He tells the stag, that if he 
should put tlnin on, thoy would so molest him that he could not escape the 
huntsnicn. l-'or tlu^ boar, he says they would evil-favouredly become him ; 
and the wolf he sliufflos off with the false news of a fold of lambs hard by, 
whirh would do liini more go(>d. So all gone, he begins to put on the robes 
hnuself, and to rejoice in his lueky fraud. But instantly came the owners, 
and .surprised hini, who had so puzzled himself in these habiliments, that 
he could not by flight escape ; so they took him, and hanged him up. 



Peov. III. 16.] god's bounty. 141 

The subtle foxes, Jesuits and friars, dissuade kings from coveting wealth, 
because of their power to command all ; and great men, because it will make 
them envied and hunted after for their trappings ; countrymen it wUl not 
become, they say ; and all the rest, that it will hinder their journey to heaven. 
So in conclusion they drive all away, and get the whole world for their 
master Pope and themselves. But at last these foxes are caught in their 
own noose ; for the devil finds them so wrapped and hampered in these 
ornaments, and their hearts so besotted on money and riches, that he carries 
them with as much ease to hell as the chariot drew Pharaoh into the Ptcd Sea. 

For us, beloved, we teach you not to cast away the bag, but covetousness. 
^0)1 facultatem, sed cupidilatem reprehend imiis. We bid you ' use the 
world,' but enjoy the Lord. And if you have wealth, 'make you friends 
with your riches, that they ' — so made friends by your charity — ' may re- 
ceive,' and make way for, 'you into everlasting habitations,' Luke xvi. 9. 
It is not your riches of this world, but your riches of grace, that shall do 
your souls good. 'Not my wealth, nor my blood, but my Christianity 
makes me noble,' quoth that noble martyr Piomanus. And though the 
philosopher merrily, when he was asked whether were better, wisdom or 
riches, answered, Kiches ; for I have often, said he, seen poor wise men at 
rich fools' doors, but never rich fools at poor wise men's doors : yet wealth 
may be joined with wisdom, goodness with greatness. Mary and Martha 
may be sisters : righteousness and riches may dwell together. 

Chrysostom, on that aphorism of Christ, Matt. vi. 24, ' Ye cannot serve 
God and Mammon,' observes that he doth not say. Ye cannot have God and 
Mammon ; but, Ye cannot serve God and Mammon : for he that is the ser- 
vant of God must be the master of his wealth. The Lord Jesus is able to 
sanctify and save the rich man's soul as well as the poor's, and to send poor 
Lazarus into the bosom of rich Abraham : where consider not only qui 
sublatus, but quo suhlatus* Poor but good Lazarus is carried into rich but 
good Abraham's bosom ; to signify that neither poverty deserves heaven, nor 
riches hell. JJlvitice non iniquce, sed iniquis, — Hiches are not unrighteous, 
but to the unrighteous. A^ec cidpahile est habere ista; sed hcerere istis, — It 
is not a sin to have them, but to trust them. 

As much might be said for honour. It is the Lord that advanceth : 
I Sam. ii. 30, 'Those that honour me I will honour,' saith God. 'It is 
God,' saith Job, 'that puttcth on the king's girdle,' chap. xii. 18, that fasten- 
eth his honour about him. ' Promotion comcth neither from the east nor 
from the west, nor from north nor south,' Ps. Ixxv. G, but only from the 
Lord. Hence it follows that great men may be good men : yea, hence it 
should follow that great men ought to be good men. 

They mat/ be good. Christ had liis faithful followers even in Caesar's 
family. Bernard indeed complainedt that the court is wont to receive good 
men, but to make them bad men. Bonos facilius recipere, quam facere: 
and, Plures illic defecisse bonos, quam profecisse malos, — The court doth sooner 
take good men than make good men : there more good are perverted to 
evil than evil converted to good. Yet in the court of Pharaoh was a 
good Joseph ; in the court of Darius, a good Daniel ; in the court of Aha- 
fiuerus, a good ^Mordecai. Neither is it ever ti-ue that quo quis corruptior 
moribus, et corrumpentior muneribus, — the more a man is corrupt with vices, 
and corrupting with bribes, so much the more set by. The Pharisees' ob- 
jection, John vii. 48, is sometimes false : ' Have any of the rulers believed 
on him V They may be good ; yea — 

* Aug. in Ps. IL f De Consid., lib. iv. 



142 god's bounty. [Sermon XL 

They must be good. For they are unprinted statutes, wliereout every 
man rei>.ds liis duty. They are legis fadores, and therefore should not be 
hfjis fradores. Aristotle calls them loquenfes leges, speaking laws. Inferiors 
often .set their eyes to supply the place of their ears, and rather look to see 
their duties than to hear them. All should live by precept, but most will live 
by precedent. A superior therefore should teach men to take the measure 
of his greatness by his goodness. These two should be of an even length, 
of an equal pace. If honour outruns honesty, it will hardly be overtaken. 
Let such a one appear to the people as he would liave them be ; and be 
himself such a one as he appears. A great person is like a great hill, which 
gives a fair prospect, but is subject to the lightning and thunder of cen- 
sures. 

IL But it may here be objected, that if riches and honour be God's gifts, 
then is he the giver of Judas's wealth and Haman's honour. Perhaps you 
woidd here learn whether your riches and honours come from God or no : 
your demand is requisite, and I will strive to give you satisfaction. 

First, for riches ; if they come from God, they are honestly gotten, justly 
disposed, and patiently lost. 

1. They arc well gotten : for God is not the patron of unjust gains. He 
can bless a man well enough without the help of the devil. There are many 
that will have wealth, though they go a- fishing for it, either with Habakkuk's 
net, chap. i. 15, or Hophni's hooks, 1 Sam. ii. 13. They do not only trouble 
the waters for it, but they bloody the waters, fetch it out of the bowels and 
life-blood of the poor. This is not from God, nor will he bless it. But ' as 
it was gathered of the hire of a harlot, so it shall return to the hire of a 
harlot,' Mic. i. 7. 

It is easy for that man to be rich that will make his conscience poor. He 
that will defraud, forswear, bribe, oppress, serve the time, use, abuse all 
men, all things, swallow any wickedness, cannot escape riches. Whereas he 
whose conscience will not admit of advancing or advantaging himself by in- 
direct means, sits down with contented poverty. But bonus non cito cvasit 
dives, — a good man seldom becomes rich on the sudden. Wealth comes not 
easily," not quickly, to the honest door. Neither let us envy the gravel that 
sticks in the throat of injustice. For he that will swallow the bait which 
hangs on the line of another man's estate, shall be choked with it. Of 
riches let us never desire more than an honest man may weU bear away. 
Mallem me miserum sandnm quam j^rospertim peccatorem, — I had rather be 
a miserable saint tlian a prosperous sinner. When the raising of thy roof 
Is the rasing of another's foundation, ' the stones shall cry out of the wall, 
and the beam out of the timber shall answer it,' Hab. ii. 11. Thus non 
acdpiimis data, sed arripimus p>rohibita, — we take not things with a beggar's 
band, Ijut with a tyrant's ; they are not God's gifts, but our felonies. 

For this cause riches are called bona fortunce, the goods of fortune : not 
that they come by chance, but that it is a cliance if ever they be good. Vce 
accitmnlauti non sun, Hab. ii. G; and, vcr. 9, 'Woe to him that coveteth 
an evil covctousness to his house ! ' We think the oppressor's avarice evil 
only to the houses of the oppressed ; but God saith it is most evH to his 
own. Whether fraud or force bring in unjust gain, it is as a coal of fire put 
in tlic tliatch of his house. 

And to .shfw that (Jod is not the giver of this, he pours a curse upon it; 
tliat often they who thus desire most wealth shall not have it : the world 
bi'Mig to them like a fn.ward woman, the more wooed, the further off. Isa. 
xxxm. 1, • Woe to thee that spoilcst, and wast not spoiled ! when thou shalt 



ruov. III. IC] god's bounty, 143 

cease to spoil, thou shalt be spoiled.' And, Hab. ii. 8, ' EcCcauae thou hti?.t 
spoiled many nations, all the remnant of the people shall spoil thee, and 
thou shalt be for booties unto thorn.' Many a great fish in the sea of this 
world devours another, and instantly comes a greater and devours him ; as 
that emperor suffered his officers to be like sponges, sucking up the goods of 
the commonalty, and being once full, he squeezed them into his own coffers.* 
Pharaoh's lean kine, that devoured the fat, were yet themselves never the 
fotter. Gen. xli. 21. 

Philip was wont to say, that an ass laden with gold would enter the gates 
of any city ; but the golden load of bribes and extortions shall bar a man 
out of the city of God. All that is so gotten is like quicksilver, it will be 
running. K the father leave all to his son, yet the son will leave nothing 
for his son, perhaps nothing for himself; never resting till 

' Quodcumque profundo 
Traxit avaritia, luxu pejore refundat,' — f 

until he hath thromi abroad all with a fork which his father got together 
with a rake. Nah. ii. 1 2, ' The lion did tear in pieces enough for his whelps, 
and filled his holes with prey, and his dens with ravin. But I mil be 
against thee, saith the Lord : and the sword shall devour thy young lions.' 
The father plays the lion for his whelps, oppresseth and consumeth the 
poor ; but his young lions, which he so provides for, shall be destroyed. 

'Non habet eventus sordida prtcda bonos.' J 

We have seen huge hills of wealth, like mountains of ice, thus suddenly 
thawed as wax, with the heat of luxury. But Farvuni justo, Ps. xxxvii. 16, 
' A little that the righteous man hath is better than the riches of many 
wicked. For the arms of the wicked shall be broken : ' the strength of 
then- state shall be confounded. Their wealth is not God's, therefore he 
takes no charge of it. But the riches of the good is the riches of God, and 
he will prosper it. 

2. These riches are well disposed or used. Piety, not lust, rules them. 
He whom God's blessing hath made rich, gives God his part, man liis part, 
and keeps the thirds to himself. He returns part — 

(1.) To God. It is reason that he who gives all should have part of all. 
And because thou shouldest not grudge it, he challengeth but a little part, 
but the tenth part. Wretched men, that will not give him one that gave 
them ten ! As Pilate's wife sent her husband word, Matt, xxvii. 19, ' Have 
thou nothing to do with that just man ; ' meddle not with God's portion, 
lest a voice come to thee, as to Abimelech, Gen. xx. 3, ' Thou art but a dead 
man.' This was good Jacob's resolution. Gen. xxviii. 22, ' Of all that thou 
shalt give me, I will surely give the tenth unto thee.' Go to now, ye that 
say the gospel hath no law for tithes, and that they were merely cere- 
monial. Jacob paid them under nature ; they arc therefore unnatural men 
that deny them. You can find no law commanding your payment, but you 
shall find a law condemning your non-payment. 

What can then be pleaded for our accursed impropriations? Did the 
heavenly Wisdom ever give you those riches 1 Shew us your patent, and we 
will believe you. If ever God did convey his own portion to you, shew his 
hand and seal for it. Where did ever Jesus pass away his royal prerogative, 
or acknowledge any fine before a judge, that you say, //«c nostra sunt, — 
These are ours ? Wliat money did you ever pay him for them ? Where is 
* Sueton. iu vita Vespaa. t Claudian, X Ovid. Amor. 



J 44 god's bounty. [Sermon XL 

your acquittance ? Shew your discharge. Oh, but you plead prescription ! 
if you were not past shame, you would never dare to prescribe against the 
eternal God. Nullum tempus occurrit r^yt,— The king of heaven had these 
from the beginning, and will you now plead prescription 1 You may thus 
undo the i)oor minister in these terrene courts, but your plea shall be 
danmed in the courts of God. We can produce his act and deed whereby 
he separated tenths to himself; have you nothing to shew, and will you take 
away his inheritance 1 Go to, you have a law, and by your own law this 
proceeding is intolerable. You say you hold them by your law, by your 
law you shall be condemned. 

Perhaps you think to make amends for all, for you will increase the 
stipend of the vicar. "When the father hath gotten thousands by the sacri- 
legious impropriation, the son perhaps may give him a cow's grass, or a 
matter of forty shillings j^er annum; or bestow a little whiting on the claurch, 
and a wainscot seat for his own worship. Yea, more ; he may chance to 
found a little alms-house, and give twelve pence a-piece a-week to six poor 
people. Oh, this oppressor must needs go to heaven ! what shall hinder 
him ] But it will be, as the byword is, in a wheelbarrow : the fiends, 
and not the angels, will take hold on him. 

For is it not a great piece of charity to get five hundred pounds a-year 
from God, and to bestdw twenty marks a-year on the poor 1 When David, 
providing for the temple's building, saw how bountifully the princes and 
people offered, he gives solemn thanks to God, acknowledging that they had 
all received this first from him. 1 Chron. xxbc. 14, 'For all things come of 
thee, and of thine own have we given thee.' The original is, ' of thine 
hand.' What here the left hand of God gave to them, their right hand re- 
turns to God. They did not, as our church-sackers and ransackers do, rob 
God with the right hand, and give him a little back with the left ; take 
from him a pound, and restore him a penny. Well, you would know whether 
God hath given you your wealth ; and he says, whatsoever you have gotten 
by tenths was none of his giving ; and, besides everlasting malediction, it 
shall make your posterity beggars. 

(2.) The second rule of using our riches well is, when God hath his own, 
in the next place, trihuere cuique suum, to render every man his due. If 
they be God's gifts, they must be disposed with justice. This is double — 
commutative and distributive justice. The one arithmetical, the other geor 
metrical. Arithmetical is to give every one alike ; geometrical is to give 
every one according to his deserts. First, Cum res adcequatur rei; secondly, 
Cum res adcequatur personce. There are two rules for him that would be 
just : a negative and an affirmative rule. First, the negative : Tobit iv. 
15, 'Do that to no man which thou wouldest not have done to thyself,' — 
Quod tihi 11011 vis, alteri ne facias. Secondly, the affirmative : Matt. vii. 12, 
' Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.' 
Nut wliat every man, out of his own disordered passions, would have another 
do to him ; but what in his composed and deliberate judgment he approves 
done to liim.self, lot hini do that to others. Wouldest thou be relieved ? 
liclieve. Wouldest thou borrow? Lend. 

If I should follow this point of just distribution, as a mark to discern of 
your riches whether they are God's goods or not, how distasting would my 
spcccli be! How few of your houses are filled with those treasures only 
which the hcaveidy Wisdom here dispcnsi^th ! How little of them is found 
U> conic in God's name ! It may be some of your wealth was given you of 
God ; but your evil usage alters the nature of it, and it can no more properly 



PkOV. III. 1 G.J god's BOUNTY. 145 

be ascribed to him. It is hard to draw this circumstance into a scjuare ; it 
is so confused in your action.s, that I cannot tell how to find a method for 
it in my discourse. You may make your riches none of God's blessings by 
using them ill in respect of others, especially three ways : either detinendo 
debita, by dctainhig things due to others ; or extmdendo vilia, by putting 
forth base things for good ; or cornimpendo utilia, by corrupting with good 
things other-s. 

[1.] By detaining those things that are due to others ; and these are either 
debts or promises. 

First, Debts. Rom. .xiii. 8, ' Owe no man anything, ^ but to love one 
another.' Indeed there must be some owing, as there must be some lend- 
ing ; without this mutual commerce we are worse than savages. But we 
must pay again: Ps. xxxvii. 21, 'The wicked borroweth, and payeth not 
again.' Debt is not deadly sin when a man hath no means, but when he 
hath no meaning to pay. There mu.st be votal restitution, if there cannot 
be actual, llcstore quoad ajfectum, though you cannot quoad effectum. 
2 Cor. viii. 12, ' For if there be first a willing mind, it is accepted according 
to that a man hath, and not to that he hath not.' God reckons that as done 
which a man vere voluit, tametsi non valuit adimplere,* — faithfully would, 
though not fully could accomplish. 

There are that will restore some, but not all ; to this they have posse, but 
no velle ; let the creditors be content with one of four. But this little detiny 
is great iniquity. For a mite is debt, as well as a million : tarn, though not 
tantum, — so good a debt, though not so great a debt. And, ' He that is 
faithful in a little shall be made ruler over much,' Matt. xxv. 23. 

What shall we then say of their goods that break, and defraud others ? 
Come they from God's hand or from the devil's 1 Surely Satan's right hand 
gave them, not God's left. Ilcec mea sunt, saith the devil ; mece divitice, 
mei divites, — The.se are mine, my riches, and my rich men. Oh that men 
would see this damnable sin ! Methinks their terrified conscience should 
fear that the bread they eat should choke them ; for it is stolen, and stolen 
bread fills the belly with gravel. They should fear the drink they swallow 
.should poison them ; being the very blood of good householders, mixed with 
the tears of widows and orphans. The poor creditor is often undone, and 
glad of bread and water ; whiles they, like hogs lurking in their sties, fat 
and lard their ribs with the fruit of others' labours. They rob the husband 
of his inheritance, the wife of her dowry, the children of their portions ; the 
curse of wliole families is against them. 

And if tliis sin lie upon a great man's soul, he shall find it the heavier, to 
sink him lower into perdition. They are the lords of great lands, yet live 
upon other men's moneys ; they mu.st riot and revel, let the poor commoners 
pay for it. They have protections ; their bodies shall not be molested, and 
their lands are exempted. What then 1 Shall they escape 1 No, their souls 
shall pay for it. When the poor creditor comes to demand his own, they 
rail at him, they send him laden away, but with ill words, not good money. 
In the country they set labourers on work, but they give them no hire. Tut, 
they are tenants, vassals. Must they therefore have no pay 1 Yet those very 
landlords will bate them nothing of their rents. But the riches so had are 
not of God's giving, but of the devil's lending, and he will make them repay 
it a thousand-fold in hell. 

Secondly, Promises are due debts, and must not be detained. If the good 
man promise, though ' to his own hurt, he changeth not,' Ps. xv. 4. Indeed, 
* Bora. 
VOL. I. K 



14G GOD S BOUNTY. [SeRMONXI. 

now promtssis dives quilibet esse potest, — men are rich in promises, but they 
are poor in performance. More respect is had to commodity than to honesty. 
Men have their evasions to disannul their promises ; either they equivocate 
or reserve ; or, being urged, plead forgetfulness. But the truth is, they have 
sufficient memory, but not sufficient honesty. It is said that a good name 
is the best riches ; qua semel amissa, posfea nullus eris. But Avhat care they 
for a name, so long as they save their money ? Quid enim salvis infamia 
nummis ? * 

A Pilate could say, John xix. 22, Quod scripsi, scripsi, — 'What I have 
written, I have written;' and shall not a Christian say, Quod dixi faciam, 
— A\Tiat I have promised I will perform ? Hence it comes that there is so 
little faith in the world ; that scriveners have so much work ; that the pro- 
verb runs in everybod/s mouth. Fast bind, fast find ; that there is no hope 
of good deeds, but sealed and delivered ; that there is more trust to men's 
seals than to their souls. For the law of God holds us not so fast as the 
laws of men. There is more awe of judgment in the Common Pleas, than of 
a sentence of condemnation in the court of heaven. The sheriff is altogether 
feared, not God ; there is no dread of any execution but his. Is the wealth 
thus detained, in your own consciences, God's blessing 1 Deceive not your 
own souls. God requires us to be in our words as righteous as in all our 
ways. A Christian's word should be as current as his coin. Thus you see 
this first circumstance of injustice taxed. Therefore * Withhold not good 
from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thy hand to do it,' 
Prov. iii. 27. 

[2.] By putting forth base things for good. The prophet Amos, chap, 
viii. G, speaks of some that ' sell the refuse of their wheat,' the basest wares ; 
neither do they sell them for base, but for good. If half a score lies, backed 
with as many oaths, will put off their vile commodities, they shall not lie upon 
their hands. Not upon their hands. I say ; though upon their consciences. 

' Plenius cequo 
Laudat venales, qui vult extrudere merces.' f 

Their rule for themselves is vincat xdilitas ; for others, caveat emptor 
lather they will shew you one thing, and sell you another ; and this cozen- 
age hath longer arms than all other tricks, and overreaches them : or they 
will conceal the in.sufficiency of the wares ; and for this cause they darken 
tlieir sliops, lest the light should reveal their works of darkness : John iii. 
19, 'They love darkness more than light.' Let them take heed lest it be 
unto them according to their desires ; lest, as they have brought hell into 
their shops, so their shops send them into hell. 

Or if the commodity be discerned bad, you must have that or none. If 
your necessity forceth you to buy, it shall force you to buy such base stuff. 
This is a grievous sin in all professions, especially amongst apothecaries, be- 
cause with their injustice may be also mixed a spice of murder. But you 
will say, We compel none to buy our commodities; we but shew them, and 
make the price. But it is craft tendere 2)la(/as, etsi agitaturus non sis, — to 
iay snares, though you drive not men into them. Or be it what it will, yet 
r.-ither than refuse your money, they will protest to give you the buying. 
Vea, rather than fail, they will sell it you cheaper than before they swore it 
<xj.st them. 

' Quia rnetua aut pudor est properantis avari ?'— t 

• Juven. Satyr. f Hon, 1. viii. op. :!: Juv. Sat. 14. 



Prov. III. IC] god's bounty. 147 

What ! sell clieai)er than they buy '? How should they then live ? The 
answer is easy, they live by their lying. 

Now doth this wealth come in God's name 1 Is this the blessing of 
heaven ? Which of your consciences dare think so ] St Augustine* speaks 
of a certain jester that undertook to tell the people what they all did most 
desire. Multitudes came to hear this, to whose expectation he thus an- 
swered, VUi vultis emere et chare vendere, — You would buy cheap and sell 
dear. And this is every man's desire, that desires to be rich more than to 
be just. 

[3.] By making others bad with his goods. And here we may fitly pro- 
ceed to the condemnation of bribery. Deut. xvi. 19, 'A gift bUndeth the 
eyes of the wise.' They that see furthest into the law, and most clearly dis- 
cern the causes of justice, if they suffer the dusts of bribes to be thro\vn into 
their sight, their eyes will water and twinkle, and fall at last to blind con- 
nivance. It is a wretched thing when justice is made a hackney that may 
be backed for money, and put on with golden spurs, even to the desired 
journey's end of injury and iniquity. 

If the party be innocent, let his cause be sentenced for his innocence's 
sake ; if guilty, let not gold buy out his punishment. If the cause be 
doubtful, the judge shall see it worse when he hath blinded his eyes with 
bribes. But the will of the giver doth transfer right of the gift to the re- 
ceiver. No, for it is not a voluntary will. But as a man is willing to give 
his purse to the thief rather than venture his life or limb, so the poor man 
gives his bribes rather than hazard his cause. Thou sayest, The thief has no 
right to the purse so given ; God saith. Nor thou to the bribe. 

And this is sinful in a justicer though he pass true judgment on the 
cause ; but much more accursed when for this he will condemn the cause he 
should allow, or allow the cause he should condemn. ' To justify the vdcked 
and condemn the innocent ' are alike abomination to the Lord. Far be from 
our souls this wickedness, that the ear which should be open to complaints 
is thus stopped with the ear-wax of partiality. Alas, poor Truth, that she 
must now be put to the charges of a golden ear-pick, or she cannot be heard ! 

But to shew that these riches are not of God's giving, his anger is hot 
against them : Job xv. 34, ' Fire shall consume the tabernacles of bribery.' 
The houses, or tabernacles, the chambers, halls, offices, studies, benches, a 
fire shall consume them. They may stand for a while, but the indignation 
of the Lord is kindled ; and if it once begin to bum, all the waters in the 
south are not able to quench it. These riches, then, come not of God's bless- 
ing ; but I pray that God's blessing may be yours, though you want those 
riches. Time, that severe moderator, chargeth me silence, and I rather 
choose abruptly to break off my discourse than immodestly to abuse your 
tried patience. The Lord send us the gifts of his left hand at his own good 
pleasure, but never deny us the blessings of his right, for Jesus Christ's 
sake ! Amen. 

• De Trin., lib. iiii., cap. 3. 



GOD'S BOUNTY; 

OE, 

THE BLESSINGS OF BOTH HIS HANDS. 

(THE SECOND SERMON.) 



Length of days is in her right hand ; and in her left hand riches and 
honour. — Pro v. III. 16. 

We are looking into the left liancl of Wisdom, and there have found, frst, 
that riches and honour are God's gifts ; secondly, that every man's riches 
and honour are not so, ' that the mouth of wickedness might be stopped.' 
Therefore to satisfy our own consciences that they are God's blessings to us, 
I observed that they must be, first, honestly gotten ^ secondly, justly dis- 
posed, and that by rendering sincerely that which is due, first, to God ; 
secondly, to man ; thirdly, to ourselves. Duties to others ended my former 
discourse ; I must now begin at — 

(3.) Ourselves. The third act of disposing our riches well, when God hath 
his portion and man his portion, is to take the thirds to ourselves. It is 
God's will that with the wealth he hath given thee thou shouldest refresh 
and consolate thyself Ps. xxiii. 5, ' Thou preparest a table before me : thou 
anointcst my head with oil ; my cup runneth over.' Wherefore hath God 
si)rcad a table before thee, but that thou shouldest eat 1 Wherefore given 
thee a oup running over, but that thou shouldest drink ? If thou have wine, 
make, thy heart glad ; if oil, let thy fixce shine ; if bread, strengthen thy 
spirit.^, Ps. civ. 15. Wear tliy own wool, and drink the milk of thy own 
Hocks. It is a blessing which the Lord gives to those that fear him : Ps. 
c.xxviii. 2, ' Thou shalt cat the labour of thine own hands : happy shaltthou 
be, and it shall be well with thee.' But a curse to the wicked, that they 
shall i)lant vineyards, and not taste the fruit thereof The riches that God 
truly gives, man truly enjoys. Eccles. v. 19, ' Every man to whom God hath 
given ridics and wealtli, and hath given him power to eat thereof, and to 
take his portion, and to rejoice in his labour ; this is the gift of God.' Now, 
a man may take from himself this comfort in abusing his wealth, and tliis 
many ways; especially four— superstition, malice, riot, misery. 



Trov. III. IC] god's county. 149 

[1 J By spending them upon works of superstition, to the dislionour of 
God. And this is a high degree of ingxatitadc. When God hath given them 
a sword to defend themselves, and they turn the point of it upon his o-wTi 
breast. So God gave Israel sheep and oxen, and they offer them up to Baal. 
Many in England are beholden to God for great revenues, lands, and lord- 
ships ; and they therewith maintain Jesuits and Seminaries, his professed 
enemies. These use their riches as the Israelites did their car-rings and 
jewels : God gave them for their own ornament, and they turn them to an 
idol. 

[2.] By malice, in abusing them to unnecessary quarrels and contentions 
of law, to the hindrance of God's peace and their neighbours' welfare : when 
men will put out one of their own eyes to put out both their neighbour's ; 
nay, both their own for one of his. Thus what they get by the happiness 
for foreign peace they spend in civil wars. How unnatural is it for one hand 
thus to beat and wound another ! Either of them gets a shell ; you know 
who goes away with the meat. 

[3.] By riot. Qnicpiul dant, dant vel veneri vel ventri. They spend more 
upon the tavern than upon the tabernacle, at the house of plays than at the 
house of praise, more upon their own hounds than upon God's poor children. 
Julius Caesar seeing women carry little dogs under their arms, asked if they 
had no children. God asketh you, that give your bread to dogs, if he hath 
no children for your charity. But they answer all, as the wicked in the 1 2th 
Psalm, ' Our tongues are our own.' They stop the mouth of all exhortation 
to frugal courses with. It is my own ; a man may spend his own as he list ; 
I waste none of your goods ; and what hath friend in private or preacher in 
public to do with it? But they shall find one day that they were but 
stewards, that these riches were but entrusted to them, and they shall give a 
strict account. Nothing is properly a man's own but pecxata sua, his sins. 
Thy sins are thhie own, thy riches God's. 

[4.] By miserable niggardice, in forbearing to take his own portion ; and 
so bccometh his own consumi)tion. No marvel if .such a miser starve others, 
when he f^imishcth himself. Such a one is the worst vermin the land bears ; 
another vermin seeks but to feed itself, but he, hoarding up his grain, feeds 
many thousands of them. Let him beware lest they also at last devour him- 
self. As that German bishop,"' that having great store of corn in a grievous 
famine, refused to sell it to the poor, and suffered the rats to eat it ; but by . 
the just judgment of God, the mice and rats which he fed with his grain 
did also feed upon him, albeit he built a tower in the midst of the river 
Bhine to avoid them, which the Germans call still Bat's Tower. How shall 
they which slander heaven with pretended dearths, be admitted as friends to 
that place which they have belied 1 

You see how these riches must be gotten, how di.-iposed — honestly gotten, 
justly dispensed ; now it follows, also, in the next place, that they must be — 

.3. Patiently lost. When God gives riches to the good, he gives them 
also a heart to trust in himself; in himself, I say, not in them. 1 Tim. vi. 
17, 'Trust not in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us 
abundantly all things to enjoy.' He gives abundantly, but he fovbiddcth 
trust in that abundance. He commends riches to us, as a great man doth 
a servant to his friend : Work him, but tru.st him not ; put labcmr to him, 
not confidence in him. Wealth may do us good service, but if it get the 
niastery of our trust, it will turn tyrant, termagant ; we condemn ourselves 
to our own galleys. 

* Acts and Moo. 



J 50 gob's bol'xty. [Sermon XII. 

To the godly riches are never so dear but they can be content to forego 
them. They receive them at God's hands with much thankfulness, and 
they lose them with much patience. When God takes aught from us, he 
does us no ^v^oug. Retrahit sua, non ahstrahit nostra,^ — He doth but take 
back his own, not take away ours. So Job, chap. L 21, 'The Lord hath 
given, and the Lord hath taken away.' The Lord giveth, therefore he may 
take away. Yea, Faith says, Lord, take all, so thou give me thyself. ' We 
have left all, and followed thee,' saith Peter, Matt. xix. 27. iA^'os sequamur 
Christum, ccetera sequentw nos, — Let us follow Christ, other things shall fol- 
low us. But if they do not, it is gain enough to have Christ. He is too 
covetous whom the Lord Jesus cannot satisfy. AVe may lose divitias Dei, 
but never Deum divitinrum. We may be forsaken of these riches of God, 
but never of the God of riches. Amittcnmis omnia, dum haheamus hahentem 
omnia, — Let us lose all, so we have him that hath all. 

That was never perfectly good that might be lost. Of this nature are 
riches; they have made many prouder, none better. As never man was 
better, so never wise man thought himself better for them. That wise pro- 
phet would never have prayed against riches if their want had been the want 
of blessedness. The devil indeed says, ' All these will I give thee ;' but the 
two dearest apostles say, ' Silver and gold have I none.' Who would not 
rather be in the state of those saints than of that devil ? Eiches are such 
things as those that have them not want them not ; those that have them 
may want them : they are lost in a night, and a man is never the worse for 
losing them. How many kings — not fewer than nine in our island — that 
have begun their glory in a throne, have ended it in a cell ; changing their 
command of a sceptre for the contemplation of a book ! Alas, silly things, 
that they should dare ask one dram of our confidence ! Non tanta in multis 
falicitas quanta in paiccis securitas, — There is not so much happiness in the 
highest estate as there is content and peace in the lowest. Only then God 
be our trust, whose mercy we can no more lose than himself can lose his 
mercy. 

. Thus you see this second general point amplified, if riches be God's bless- 
ings, (not only in themselves, so they are always good, but to us,) then 
they are gotten honestly, disposed justly, lost patiently. As much happily 
might be said, secondly, for honour, wherein I will briefly consider how and 
when it is of God. 

God indeed gives honour and riches, but not aU honour ; as you heard 
before, not all riches. There are four things in an honoured person : — First, 
ITis person, wherein he partakes of the common condition of manldnd ; lives 
and (lies a man. Even the sons of princes have their breath in their nostrils. 
tSfcoudli/, Hig honour and dignity; this, simply considered, is of God, who- 
soever he be that hath it, a Joseph or a Haman. Thirdly, The manner of 
coming to his honour ; and tliis is no longer of God than the means are 
good. If it be God's honour, God must give it, not man usurp it. Fourthly, 
Tlie managing of this honour ; and this is also of the Lord, if it be right and 
religious. It haj)peneth often that Potens, the great man, is not of God. 
Hos. viii. 4, ' They have set up kings, but not by me ; they have made princes, 
and 1 know it not.' The manner of getting dignity is not always of God. 
llichard the Third came to the crown of England by blood and murder ; 
Alexander the Sixth obtained the popedom by giving himself to the devil. 
Yet the dignity is of God. Trov. ^iii. 15, 'By me lungs reign; by me 
princes and nobles.' 

* Greg, in Mor, 



Prov. hi. 1G.] god's bounty. 151 

It is a hard question whcreui lionour consists. Is it iii blood, descending 
from the veins of noble ancestors 1 Not so, except nature could produce to 
noble parents noble children. It was a monstrous tale that Nicippus's ewe 
should yean a lion. Though it be true among irrational creatures, that they 
ever bring forth their like, — eagles hatch eagles, and doves doves, — yet in 
man's progeny there is often found not so like a proportion as unlike a dis- 
jxjsition. The earthy part only follows the seed, not that whose form and 
attending qualities are from above. Honour must therefore as well plead a 
charter of successive virtue as of continued scutcheons, or it cannot consist 
in blood. The best things can never be traduced in propagation : thou 
niayest leave thy son heir to thy lands in thy will, to thy honour in his 
blood ; thou canst never bequeath him thy virtues. The best qualities do so 
cleave to their subjects, that they disdain communication to others. 

That is then only true honour where dignity and desert, blood and virtue 
meet together ; the greatness whereof is from blood, the goodness from vir- 
tue. Among fools dignity is enough without desert ; among wise men desert 
without dignity. If they must be separated, desert is infinitely better. 
Greatness without \irtue laudatur ore alieno, davmaiur conscientia sua, is 
commended by others' tongues, condemned in thy own heart. Virtue, 
though without promotion, is more comforted in thy own content than dis- 
heartened by others' contempt. It is a happy composition when they are 
united : think it your honour, ye great men, that you are ennobled with vir- 
tues ; not that you have, but that you deserve honour. Let this that hath 
been spoken teach us some lessons concerning honour. 

1. Take it when God sends it, but be not ambitious of it. Indigni est 
arripere, non accipere honorem. It is an argument of unworthiness to snatch 
it denied, not to accept it offered. 1 Pet. v. 5, ' God resisteth the proud,' — 
opposeth himself in a professed war against him, as if he held a sword against 
his breast, when he would rise up in glory, to nail him fast down to the 
earth, — but 'he giveth grace to the humble;' like a great and good prince, 
he gives those servants grace and honour whom he perceives least ambitious 
of it. Such men seek not for honour as for a jewel they would fain find, 
but only stumble on it, as Saul sought but his father's asses when he lighted 
on a longdom. Pride, like smoke, will surge upward, though it vanish 
into air ; massy virtue, like gold, keeps below, and is more preciously re- 
spected. 

He that would mount, cares not what attendance he dances at all hours, 
upon whose stairs he sits waiting, what enormities he soothes, what defor- 
mities he imitates, what base offices he does prostrate himself to, so he may 
rise. His carriage is alienum a se, quite another thing from himself ; he doth 
glue it on indecently, that he may screw himself into favour. This man 
never understood the charge that goes with honour, which the most wise 
disposition of God hath coupled together. Charge without some honour 
would overlay a man. If a man could have honour •without some trouble, 
it would so transport him that he were continually in danger of running 
mad. The poor man envies the great for his honour ; the great perhaps 
envies the jooor more for his peace, for as he lives obscurely, so securely. 
He that rightly knows the many public and more secret vexations incident 
to honour, would not, as that king said of his crown, stoop to take it up, 
though it lay at his feet before him. 

2. Live worthy of that honour thou hast. Greatness not gooded with 
grace is like a beacon upon a high hill : qui conspiciunt, dispiciunt, — they 
that behold it hate it, though perhaps they dare not censure it. The knee 



152 



god's bounty. [Seemon XII. 



may be forced to reverence, but tlie mind cannot but abbor so unworthy a 
statue. In liis pride he stomachs the covered head or the stift" knee of a 
coed Mordecai, fretthig that other men do not think him so good as he 
tbinks'himself. But indeed he doth not think himself more honourable than 
others think him base. All the poor honour that he hath is only kept above- 
ground with his body ; both corrupt, fall, and rot together : and if it be 
conjured up at the funeral to present itself, yet it fails not to go back with 
the heralds. 

3. For-'ct not your original, ye whose brows the wreaths of honour have, 
above hopes, engirt. If the Lord hath ' raised you out of the dust, and lifted 
you up out of the dunghill, and set you among the princes of the people,' 
Ps. cxiii. 7,8; yet forget not your ftither's house, nor the place of your be- 
f'inninf. Miseranda oblivio, originis non oneminisse, — He never truly under- 
stands°what he is, that forgets what he hath been. Solomon's observation is 
often true, ' Folly is set in great dignity,' Eccles. x. 6 ; albeit this be not the 
rif'ht uhi, — folly in excellency. Now these excellent fools soon forget from 
huw low estate they are risen. They consider not how glad their carcases 
would once have been of a warm covering, that are now richer than lilies, 
more gorgeous than May ; scarce ' Solomon in all his glory was arrayed like 
one of these,' Matt. vi. 29. They consider not that need once made them 
trudge through the mire, even many tedious journeys, that climb by unjust 
riches to that dignity, as in their caroches to be whirled through the popular 
streets. 

It was Jacob's humble acknowledgment of God's mercy to him, Gen. 
xxxii. 10, * With my staff I passed over this Jordan, and now I am become 
two bands.' If blind ingratitude would suffer many proud eyes to see it, 
how justly might divers say. With my staff came I hither walking, and now 
I ride in triumph with attendants ! To these let me apply the words of the 
jirophet, Isa. li. 1, ' Look unto the rock whence ye are hewn, and to the hole 
of the pit whence ye arc digged.' Kemember your poor beginning, that you 
may bless God for your advancing. Say, not only in general, Quis homo ? 
Ps. viii. 4, ' What is man, that thou, O Lord, art so mindful of him V but, 
Quise;/o? 1 Sam. ix. 21, 'What am I, and what is my father's house, that 
God should thus raise me up 1 ' 

4. If thou have honour, keep it, but trust it not. Nothing is more in- 
constant ; for it depends upon inconstancy itself, the vulgar breath, which is 
bellua multorum capitum, — a beast of many heads, and as many tongues, 
which never keep long in one tune. As they never agree one with another, 
so seldom do they agree long with themselves. Acts xiv., Paul and Bar- 
nabas come to Lystra, and raise an impotent cripple ; hereat the amazed 
people would needs make them gods, and draw bulls and garlands to the 
altars for sacrifice to them. Not long after they draw Paul out of the city 
and stone him. Tiiey suddenly turn him from a god to a malefactor, and 
are really to kill him, instead of killing sacrifice to him. Oh the fickleness of 
that thing which is committed to the keeping of vulgar hands ! Trust not 
then popularity with thy honour, so it is mutable ; but trust virtue with it, 
so it is diiiiiijle. Nothuig can make sure a good memory but a good life. 
It is a foolish dream to hope for immortality and a long-lasting name by a 
monument of bniss or stone. It is not dead stones, but living men, that can 
rodofin tliy good rememljnmce from oblivion. A sumptuous tomb covers 
thy i.utrilied carca.se ; and be thy life never so lewd, a commending epitaph 
Rliadi.w.s ull : but tiic p;i.ssengcr that knew thee tells his friends that these 
outaidua are hypocriticjil, for thy life was as rotten as is thy corpse; and so is 



Prov. III. IG.] god's ijounty. 153 

occasioned by thy presumed glory to luy open tliy deserved infamy. Neither 
can the common people preserve thy honour whilst thou livest, nor can these 
dull and senseless moimments keej) it when thou art dead. Only thy noble 
and Christian life makes every man's heart thy tomb, and turns every tongue 
into a pen to write thy deathless epitaph. 

5. Lastly, if God gives to some men honour, it is then manifest that God 
allows difference of persons. He ordains some to rule and others to obey ; 
some masters, others servants; he setteth some up on high, and placeth 
others in a low degree. To rcinne at others' greatness and our own mean- 
ness, is to cavil with God, as if he wanted wisdom and equity in disposing 
these inferior conditions. It is a savage and popular humour to malign and 
inveigh against men in eminent places. That rhyme — 

' When Adam delved and Eve span, 
Who was then a gentleman ? ' — 

seems to be made among Jack Straw's followers, and to savour of rebellious 
discontent. God allows no man to vilify where he hath honoured ; no scur- 
rilous libels, disgracing those that live, yea, disparaging to the very dead, 
shall pass the court of God's justice uncensured. Where the Lord confers 
and confirms honour, woe to the tongue that shall traduce it ! — This second 
point hath held us long, the brevity of the rest shaU ease it. 

III. Observe that Solomon, in the donation of the left hand, couples 
together riches and honour, as if these two were for the most part inseparable 
companions. Eccles. \i. 2, ' God gives to a man riches and honour.' First 
riches and then honour, for it is lightly found, — so much riches, so much 
honour, — and reputation is measured by the acre. I have wealth enough, 
saith the worldling, Luke xii. ; I will turn gentleman, ' take my ease, eat, 
drink, and be merry.' Riches are the stairs whereby men climb up into the 
height of dignity, the fortification that defends it, the food it lives upon, the 
oil that keeps the lamp of honour from going out. Honour is a bare robe if 
riches do not lace and flourish it, and riches a dull lump till honour give a 
soul to quicken it. Fitly, then, riches and honour, wealth and worship, do 
bear one another company. 

IV. Lastly, observe, that though riches and honour be God's gifts, yet 
they ax-e but the gifts of his left hand : therefore it necessarily follows, that 
every wise man will fir.st seek the blessings of the right. JNIatt. vi. .33, ' First 
seek the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and these things shall 
be added unto you.' Godliness is the best riches, riches the worst. Let us 
strive for the former without condition ; for the other, if they foil in our way, 
let us stoop to take them up. If not, let us never covet them. It is no 
wisdom to refuse God's kindness, that offers wealth ; nor piety to scratch for 
it when God withholds it. When the Lord hath set thee up as high as 
Haman in the court of Ahasucrus, or promoted thee to ride with Joseph in 
the second chariot of Egypt ; were thy stock of cattle exceeding Job's, chap. 
i. 3, ' seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of 
oxen ; ' did thy wardrobe put down Solomon's, and thy cupboard of plate 
Belshazzar's when the vessels of God's temple were the ornature, — yet all 
these are but the gifts of Wisdom's left hand ; and the possessors may be 
under the malediction of God, and go down to damnation. If it were true 
that sandior qui ditior, — that goods could make a man good, I would not 
blame men's kissing this left hand, and sucking out riches and honour. But, 
alas ! what antidote again.st the terror of conscience can be chymed * from 

♦ That is, extracted by chemical processes. — Ed. 



I -J god's BOUNTY. [SeeIION XII. 

cold ? ^^^l.•^t cliarm is there in brave apparel to keep off the rigour of Satan ? 
(Juod tibi prcestat opes non tibiprcestat ope7n,—That which makes thee wealthy 
cannot make thee happy. 

Jonah had a gourd that was to him an arbour : he sat under it secure ; but 
suddenly there was a worm that bit it, and it died. Compare, secretly in 
your hearts, your riches to that gourd ; your pleasure to the greenness of it ; 
your pomp, attendance, vanities, to the leaves of it ; your sudden increase of 
wealth, to the growing and shooting up of it. But, withal, forget not the 
worm and the wind. The worm that shall kill your root is death, and the 
wind that shall blow upon you is calamity. There is a greater defect in this 
wealth and worship than their uncertainty. I^on modo fatlacia quia duhia, 
verum insidiosa quia dulcia, — They are not only deceitful through their 
fickleness, but dangerous through their lusciousncss. Men are apt to sur- 
feit on this luxuriant abundance : it is a bait to security, a bawd to 
wantonness. 

Here is the main difference between the gifts of God's right hand and of 
his left. He gives real blessings with the left, but he doth not settle them 
upon us ; he promiseth no perpetuity. But with the graces of his right he 
gives assurance of everlastingness. Christ calls riches the ' riches of deceit- 
fulness,' Matt. xiii. 22 ; but grace ' the better part, that shall never be taken 
away,' Luke x. 42. David compares the wealthy to a flourishing tree that 
is soon withered, Ps. xxxvii. 35 ; but faith stablisheth a man like ' Mount 
Sion, never to be removed,' Ps. cxxv. 1. He that thinks he sits surest in his 
seat of riches, ' let him take heed lest he fall.' When a great man boasted 
of his abundance, saith Paulus Emilius, one of his friends told him, that the 
anger of God could not long forbear so great prosjierity. How many rich 
merchants have suddenly lost all ! How many noblemen sold all ! How 
many wealthy heirs spent aU ! Few Sundays pass over our heads without 
collections for shipwrecks, fires, and other casualties ; demonstrative proofs 
that prosperity is inconstant, riches casual. And for honour, we read 
tliat BcUsarius, an honourable peer of the empire, was forced in Ms old 
age to beg from door to door : Oholum date Belisario. Frederic, a great 
emperor, was so low brought, that he sued to be made but the sexton of a 
church. 

Oh, then, let us not adhere to these left-hand blessings, but first seek 
length of days, eternal joys never to be lost. A man may enjoy the other 
without fault : the sin consisteth prwjerendo vel conferendo, either in pre- 
ferring riches or in comparing them with faith and a good conscience. 
Utere caducis, fruere aternis, — thou must necessarily use these transient 
things; only enjoy and rest upon the everlasting comforts of Jesus Christ. 
When God hath assured to a Christian spirit the inheritance of heaven, he 
joyfully pilgrims it through this world : if wealth and worship salute him by 
the way, he rcfuseth not their company; but they shall not stray him out of 
liis path, nor transport his affections, for his heart is where his hope is, his 
love is where hi.s Lord is ; even with Jesus his Redeemer, at the right hand 
of God. Now this man's very riches are blessed to him ; for as from the 
hand of God he hath them, so * from the hand of God he hath to enjoy 
good in them,' Ecclcs. ii. 24. Whereas to some, saith Solomon, Eccles. v. 13, 
' 1 liavc seen riches kept for the owners thereof to their hurt.' To the good 
man ' they shall work to the best,' Rom. viii. 28 ; blessing his condition in 
Ihi.s life, and enlarging his dition in heaven ; as the wise man sweetly, 
Pn.v. X. 22. 'The blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich ; and he addeth no 
sorrow with it.' 



Tkov. ill. IG.] god's bounty. 1o5 

Thus, in particular, if wc confer the right hand with the left, we shall 
generally learn — 

I. That both God's hands are giving : it is enough if man give with one 
hand, but the Lord sets both his hands a-doling his alms of mercy. Nemo 
ticarum luicnn vincet utraque manu. No man can do so much with both 
hands as God with one hand, with one finger. He Ivdik manam j^leyiam, 
extensam, expansam, — a hand full, not empty ; so fidl, that it can never be 
emptied with giving. Innumerable are the drops in the sea, yet if one be 
taken out, it hath, though insensibly, so much the less ; but God's goodness 
can suffer no diminution, for it is infinite. Men are sparhig in their 
bounty, because the more they give the less they have ; but God's hand 
is ever full, though it ever disperse : and the filling of many cisterns is 
no abatement to his ever-running fountain. Our prayers, therefore, are well 
directed thither for blessings ; whence, though wc receive never so mucli, 
we leave no less behind. Let this Master of requests in heaven have all 
our suits : we are sure cither to receive what we ask, or what we should ask. 

It is externa, a hand put forth, and stretched out : ' Stretched out, not to 
receive, but to give,' Ecclesiasticus iv. 31. The prophet speaks of rulers that 
stretch out their hands for bribes, and cry, ' Give ye,' Hos. iv. 18 ; but the 
Lord's hand is put forth to offer good things. Rom. x. 21, 'All day long 
have I stretched forth my hands to a disobedient people.' Indeed God 
hath a hand, and woe to the man against whom it is stretched ! Homer saith, 
that all the gods could not ward a blow of Jupiter's hand. His hands are 
not only x-^i-^ aarToi, hands that cannot be sufficiently praised, but x-^i^^ 
ai-TTToi, hands that cannot be resisted. It is a heavy hand when it lights 
upon men in anger : ' It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living 
God.' When revolting Israel fell to serve Baal and Ashtaroth, Judg. ii. 15, 
* whithersoever they went out, the hand of the Lord was against them for 
evil.' When the men of Ashdod were smitten with emerods, 1 Sam. v. 6, it 
is said ' the hand of the Lord was heavy upon them.' So David, in his 
grievous misery, Ps. xxxviii. 2, ' Thine arrows stick fast in me, and thy 
hand presseth me sore.' It is not this hand that God here stretcheth out. 
Bernard saith,* God hath two hands — fortitudo and latitudo : a hand of 
strength, qua defendit potenter, wherewith he protects his friends and con- 
founds his enemies; a hand of bounty, qua tribuit ajiuenter, whereby he 
disperseth and disposeth the largess of his gifts. This is the hand here put 
forth, manits reyalis, and gives munus regale, — a royal hand, full -of real 
mercies ; let us humbly kiss it. 

It is expansa, not a shut hand, but open. Ps. cxlv. 16, 'Thou openest 
thy hand, and fillest all things living with plonteousness.' ' God gives 
richly,' saith Paul, 1 Tim. vL 17. Man is poor, because he is a creature : 
the very name of creature infers poverty; it implies a receiving of all. Quid 
hahes quod non accepisti 1 The Creator hath the possession of all, and the 
disposition of all, at his own pleasure. James i. 17, ' Every good gift and 
every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights.' 
Bread, in the Lord's prayer, is called ours : ' Give us tlxis day our daily 
bread;' but, neputetur a nobis, dicimus ' Da nobis,' f — lest we should imagine 
it our own from ourselves, we are taught daily to beg it of our Father in 
heaven, whose it is. It is the Lord's hand that barreth the gates of our 
cities, 'that filleth our garners with plenty,' Ps. cxliv. 13, that sets peace 
about our walls, and i)rosperity in our palaces ; that blesseth our goings out 
and comings in, even all the works of our hands. 

♦ Serin. 8 in Cant. f Aug. Epist. cxliii. 



256 god's bounty. [Sermon XII. 

But what speak I of temporal things, the gifts of Ms left hand, in com- 
parison of ' length of days,' everlasting joys, the treasures of his right ? Re- 
l)eutance, huniUity, charity, and the lady of all graces, faith, come from his 
liand, and are the fiiir gifts of God. Ipsum velle credere, Dens operatur in 
homiiie^—ThQ first will to believe is wrought in man by God. If any ask, 
Cur illi ita suadeatur, nt persuadeatur ; illi autem non ita .? — Why doth this 
man believe, and another man remain in infidelity 1 hie digitus Dei,— the 
hand of God hath been here, working f:iith in the soul of him that believeth. 
AH comes from this hand of mercy. Quisquis tibi enumerat merita sua, 
quid tibi enumerat nisi munera tuaff—Ke that reckons to God his merits, 
what doth he reckon but God's mercies ? Quce bona mea, dona tua, — Those 
that are my goods, as God's gifts. 

2. Though hands be here attributed to God, yet it is but by way of meta- 
phor ; not literally, and in a true propriety of speech. To conceive God to 
be as man, with human dimensions, was the heresy of the Anthropomor- 
phites ; and he that thus grossly thinks of God, saith Jerome, makes an idol 
of God in his heart. But herein God stoops to the quality of our under- 
standings, ascribing to himself anger and displeasure, as it were passions to 
the impassible ; whereas nee Deus affectu capitur, nee tangitur ira, — they 
are not passions, but perfections. God hath a mouth by which he teacheth 
man wisdom ; he liath feet, by which he walketh on the earth his footstool ; 
he hath hands, by which he giveth food to all flesh. He hath none of these 
organically, as men have, but in the variety of effects which he produceth. 
So Bernard,^ Per effectum hcec habet, non per naturam. 

3. Observe that in the left hand there is a double benefit, riches and 
honour ; in the right but a single one, length of days ; yet this one far tran- 
scends both the other. For if we should restrain it to this world, long life 
is a great blessing, and more valuable than wealth or worship. But taking 
it, as it is meant, for eternity, — for this life is but a span long ; a span 
then, now scarce the length of a finger ; as Ps. xxiii. 6, ' I will dwell in the 
house of the Lord for ever;' originally, 'to length of days,' but fitly trans- 
lated, 'for ever,' — the left hand is as far exceeded by the right, as short 
mortality is by everlastingness. Aged Israel to his grandchildren, Ephraina 
and Manasseh, two sons of Joseph; when the father had placed the first-born 
Maua.ssch to his riglit hand, and Ephraim the younger to his left, he cross- 
ing his hands, laid the right upon Ephraim, and the left upon Manasseh, 
Gen. xlviii. 14. When Joseph would have removed his hands, he refused : 
' I know it, my son, I know it. Manasseh also shall become a people, and 
he also .shall be great ; but truly his younger brother shall be greater than 
he.' The Lord doth bless many Manassehs with his left hand in riches and 
honours ; but blessed be that Ephraim to whom his right hand is commended. 
Lord, let others enjoy the treasures of thy left hand, but lay thy right upon 
our soul.s ! 

4. I conclude. Since the Lord out of both his hands pours and showers 
upon us these mercies, wliat should we do but be thankful 1 Shall we re- 
ceive benefits by heaps, and is the incense of our gratitude of so thin a 
smoke 1 El capitur viinimo thuns honore Deus ? All these blessings seem 
to say to man. Take, and take heed : accipe, redde, cave, — receive, return, 
beware. Take warmth from me, saith apparel ; heat from me, saith fire ; 
strength from me, .siiitli bread. Restore thankfulness to the Giver. Or else 

• Aug. dc Sj>iiitii, cap. 34. f Aug. Confes., lib. ix , cap. 13. 

J Surin. 4 iu Cmit. 



PnOV. III. IG.] god's BOUNTY. 157 

beware lest the fire bum thee, water drown thee, air choKe inee : lest all give 
destruction that should give comfort. Receive in the name of God, return 
in the praise of God, or beware in the fear of God. To whom, for the bless- 
ings of both his hands, be glory ascribed from aU lips and hearts, for ever 
and ever ! Amen. 



THE FATAL BANQUET. 

(THE FIRST SERMON.) 



Stolen waters are meet, and the bread of secrecies is pleasant. JBut he hnoweth 
not that the dead are there; and that her guests are in the depths of hell. 
— Pbov. IX. 17, 18. 

I RAVE here chosen two texts in one, intending to preach of a couple of 
})reachers ; one by usurpation, the other by assignation : the world's chap- 
lain, and the Lord's prophet. Where conceive — 1. The preachers; 2. Their 
texts ; 3. Their sermons ; 4. Their pulpits ; 5. Their commissions. 

1. The jrreachers are two. The first hath a double name : literally here, 
the harlot ; metaphorically, sin, the mind's harlot ; for between them is all 
spiritual adultery committed. Some understand it more synecdochically, 
the temptation to sin ; but (omne majus includit minus) their interpretation 
is like that short bed, you cannot lay this harlot at her full length in it. 
Others conceive an antithesis here, and by conferring the 4th verse with the 

1 Gth, collect an opposition of two sorts of preachers : the sincere prophets 
of Wisdom, and the corrupted teachers of traditions, errors, leasings. I cannot 
subscribe to this sense, as full enough ; let it go for a branch, call it not the 
body of the tree. This first preacher, then, is the delightfulness, Heb. xi. 25, 
or, if you will, the deceitfulness, Heb. iii. 13, of sin. The second is Solomon, 
not erring, adulterating, idolatrising Solomon, but converted, confirmed Solo- 
mon ; a king and a preacher. 

2. ThQiT texts. (1.) Sin's text is from hell's Scriptum est: taken out of 
the devil's spell ; either Lucian's old testament, or Machiavel's new ; laws 
made in the court of damnation, enacted in the vault of darkness, like 
those under the rarliament-housc ; gunpowder-laws, fit for the justices of 
liell. (2.) Solomon's text is the word of eternal truth : with a Scriptum est, 
adittis impiratum,^<^ivcn from heaven. This is desuper, the other desuhter. 
Thi.s, as ' all Scripture, is given by inspu-ation from God, profitable,' &c., 

2 Tim. iii. IG ; the former is the 'delusion of the devil,' 2 Thess. ii. 11, that 
' lying spirit in the mouth of jUiab's prophets,' 1 Kings xxii. 22, the divinity 
of hell. 

3. The sermons differ as well as the texts. (1.) The harlot's dixit, ver. 16, 
is thus amplified : ' Stolen waters are sweet, and the bread of secrecies is 



PllOV. IX. 17, 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 159 

jjlcjisant.' Tullius, nor TertuUus, nor Ilcrnies, the speaker in the parliament 
of the heathen gods, never moved so eloquent a tongue. She preaches, ac- 
corduig to the palate of her audience, placentia ; nay, it is placenta, a sweet 
cake, whose flour is sugar, and the humour that tempers it honey, sweet, 
pleasant. She cannot want auditors for such a sermon ; for as it is in fairs, 
the pedlar and the balladmongcr have more throng than the rich merchant : 
Vanity hath as many customers as she can turn to, when Verity hath but a 
cold market. (2.) Solomon's sermon is opposed to it with a hut : ' But he 
knoweth not that the dead are there, and that her guests are in the depths of 
hell.' A cross blow, that disarms the devil's fencer; a fiat conviction, or 
non-plus, given to the arguments of sin ; a little coloquintida put into the 
sweet pot. That, as I have observed in some beguiling pictures, look on 
it one way, and it presents to you a beautiful damsel ; go on the adverse 
side, and behold it is a devil, or some misshapen stigmatic : sin shews you 
a fair picture — ' Stolen waters are sweet,' &c., suave et deliciosum, plea- 
.sure and delight; Solomon takes you on the other side, and shews you 
the ugly visages of death and hell — ' The dead are there,' &c. If sin open 
her shop of delic<acies, Solomon shews the trap-door and the vault ; if she 
boast her olives, he pomts to the prickles ; if she discovers the green and gay 
flowers of delice, he cries to the ingredients,* Latet anguis in herba, — The ser- 
pent lurks there. Ilia movet, iste vionet, — she charms, and he breaks her spells. 
As curious and proud as her house is, Solomon is bold to write * Lord, have 
mercy on us,' on the doors, and to teU us the plague is there : ' Stolen waters 
are sweet,' itc. ; ' but the dead are there,' &c, 

4. Their pulpits have local and ceremonial difference. (1.) The harlot's 
is described ver. 14, ' She sits at the door of her house, on a seat in the high 
places of the city.' [1.] Sedet, ' she sits ;' she is got into that enchanted 
chair, Ps. i. : [2.] ' at her house ;' she need not stray far for customers : in se 
turba riiunt luxuriosa, prod, — they come in troops to her : [3.] ' at her 
door ;' she presents herself to the common eye, and would be notable, though 
not able to answer the show : [4.] ' on a seat ;' novit simm locum. Vice 
knows her seat ; the devil is not without his rendezvous. What say you to 
a tavern, a playhouse, a feast, a may-game 1 that I say not, an ordinary : 
[.3.] ' in the city.' Whoredom scorns to live obscurely in the suburbs. She 
hath friends to admit her within the walls. [6.] Nay, 'in the high places 
of the city ;' in the largest streets, populous and popular houses : in exceUis 
■urbis, — one of the most curious and stately edifices in the city. 

Thus sin reads not a highway lecture only, as among thieves ; nor a cham- 
ber-lecture only, as among courtesans ; nor a mass-lecture only, as among 
Jesuits ; nor a vault-lecture only, as among traitors ; nor a table-lecture 
only, as among humorists ; nor a tap-house-lecture only, as among drunk- 
ards, that fetch authority from the pot, like Augustus Caesar, to tax all the 
world : but a city-lecture, such a one as Jezebel read to Israel, 1 Kings xxi. 
10 ; a public preaching, her pulpit being excelsa civitatis, top-gallant; filling 
eminent places with eminent poisons. (2.) St)lomon's pulpit is yet transcen- 
dent and above it ; for it is a throne, a ' throne of ivory, overlaid with gold,' 
1 Kings X. 18; such a throne as no kingdom could match it. The preacher 
is a king, the pulpit a throne; nay, an oracle, 1 Kings iv. 31 ; de solio rex 
oraada f audit. For God gave him wisdom, yea, such a wisdom that no 
man but his Antitype, God and man, did ever excel him. 

5. Their commissions. (1.) The devil gave shi her errand; gilded her 
tongue, and poisoned her heart ; put a cup of damnation into her haaid, and 
* That is, iitijredkntcs, tho.se going in. — Ed. 



IQO THE FATAL CAXQUET. [SeRMOnXIII. 

the sugar of temptation to sweeten it ; allowed her for his city-recorder, or 
his town-clerk ; and sealed her a commission from hell, as Saul had from 
the high-i^riest, Acts ix. 1, to bind with sna.ves, Jilios terra;, the sons of men. 
(2.) But God gave Solomon a celestial roll to eat, as to Ezekiel, chap. ii. 9 ; 
and ' touched his lips with a coal from his own altar,' as to Isaiah, chap, vi 
G, putting into his mouth documenta vitm, the ordinances of eternal life. 

' God hath set this day before you two diverse pulpits, adverse preachers, 
dissonant texts ; declares who speaks by his warrant, who besides it, against 
it. 'Behold,' as Moses said, 'I have set life and death before you;' take 
your choice. 

The dialof'ue of both the verses present us with a banquet : convivium, or 
convitium rather, — a feast, but a fast were better; a banquet worse than Job's 
children's. Job i. 19, or the Dagonals of the Philistines, Judges xvi. 30, 
(like the Bacchanals of the Mtenades,) when for the shutting up of their 
stomachs, the house fell down, and broke their necks. You have offered to 
your considerations, ver. 17, (supplying but the immediately precedent word, 
dixit,) 1. The inviter ; 2. The cheer. Solomon comes after, as with salt and 
vinegar, and tells you, 3. The guests ; and, 4. The hanqueting-house, ver. 18, 
' But the dead are there,' &c. 

1. The inviter. It is a woman, ' She saitb to him ;' but that name is too 
good, for she hath recovered her credit : a woman, as she brought woe to 
man, so she brought forth a weal for man : causa delicti, solatium relicti, — 
an instrumental cause of transgression, 1 Tim. ii. 14, and no less of salvation, 
Gal. iv. 4. If you say, she brought forth sin without man, so she brought 
forth a Saviour without man ; as the devil tempted her to the one, Gen. iii. 
4, so the Holy Ghost overshadowed her to the other, Luke i. 35. This not 
a woman then, but a harlot, meretricia mulier, a degenerate woman, un- 
womaned, et pudore et pudicitia, of both modesty and chastity. 

The feast is like to be good when a harlot is the hostess. And sure the 
Scriptures found some special parity, if not identity, of these two : not mak- 
ing their names convertible, which had been much ; but expressing by one 
word both of them, which is more, Josh. ii. 1 ; as if it concluded their pro- 
fessions and conditions, names and natures, all one, which is most of all. 
Impleta in nostris hcec est Scriptura diehus. Experience hath justified this 
circumstance. A harlot, then, bids, and feasts, and kills ; what other success 
can be looked for 1 If Delilah invite Samson, ware his locks ; she will spoil 
the Nazarite of his hairs : there are many Delilahs in these days. 

I liave read of many inviters in the holy writ ; some good, many indiffer- 
ent, most evil, this worst of all. (1.) Good : Matt. xxii. 1, you have the King 
of heaven a feastmaker; Cant. v. 1, you have the King's Son a feastmaker — 
Jesus ("lu-ist bids, ' Eat, O friends ; drink abundantly, O beloved ;' Bev. xxii. 
17, you have the Spirit of glory a feastmaker, and an inviter too, ' The Spirit 
and the bride say. Come.' To this feast few come, but those that do come 
arc welcome, Luke xiv. 21 : well come in regard of themselves, for there is the 
best cheer — Itev. xix. 9, ' Blessed are they that arc called to the marriage- 
sui)pcr of the Lamb ;' welcome in respect of God, who doth not grudge his 
mercies. (2.) Alany indifferent : Abraham's feast at Isaac's weaning, Gen. 
xxi. 8 ; Samson 8 at his marriage, Judg. xiv. 10 ; the wedding-feast in Cana, 
where the King of glory was a guest, and honoured it with a miracle, with 
the linst miracle that ever he wrought there, John ii. 11. (3.) Evil : Nabal's 
fcjUHt at his slicei»-sIioaring, a drunken feast, 1 Sam. xxv. 30 ; Belshazzar's 
fca.st to a tliousand of his lords, .surfeiting with full carouses from the sacred 
bowls, a .sacrilegious feast, Dan. v. 2; the Philistines' feast to the honour of 



PrOV. IX. 17, IS.] THE FATAL BANQUET. ICl 

Dagon, an idolatrous feast, Judges xvi. 23 ; Herod's birthday-feast, when 
John Bapti.st"s head was the hast course of the service, a bloody feast, Mark 
xi. 28 ; the rich churl's, a quotidian feast, a voluptuous surfeit, all bad, 
Luke xxvi. 19. (4.) This yet worst of all, the harlot's feast, where the guests 
at once comedunt et comeduntur, their souls feast on evils, and are a feast to 
devils ; for whiles men devour sins, sins devour them, as Actseon was eaten 
up of his own dt)gs. This is a bloody banquet, where no guest escapes 
without a wound, if with life; for if sin keep the revels, lusts arc the jun- 
kets, ebriety drinks the wine, blasphemy says the grace, and blood is the 
conclusion. 

But allegorically sin is here shadowed by the harlot; voluptuousness, 
meretricum meretrix, the harlot of harlots, whose bawd is Beelzebub, and 
who.se bridewell is broad hell. Wickedness [foeminei generis dicitur) is 
compared to a woman, and hath all her senses : lust is her eye to see; in- 
jury, her hands to feel ; sensuality, her palate to taste ; malice, her ears to 
hear ; petulancy, her nose to smell ; and, because she is of the feminine sex, 
we will allow her the sixth sense, tittle-tattle is her tongue to talk. Tliis is 
the common hostess of the world, Satan's housekeeper, whose doors are never 
shut : nodes atque dies pcdet, &c. There is no man in the world keeps such 
hospitality, for he searcheth the air, earth, sea, nay, the kitchen of hell, to fit 
every palate. Vitellius searched far and wide for the rarities of nature, 
birds, beasts, fishes of inestimable price, which yet brought in, the bodies are 
scorned, and only the eye of this bird, the tongue of that fish, is taken, that 
the spoils of many might be sacrifices to one supper. The emperor of tlie 
low countries — hell — hath delicates of strange variety, curiositj-. Doth 
Judas's stomach stand to treason ? There it is ; he may feed li]3erally on 
that dish. Doth Nero thirst for homicides ? The devil drinks to him in 
bowls of blood. Is Jeroboam hungry of idolatry ? Behold, a couple of calves 
are set before him, 1 Kings xii. 28. Hath Absalom the court appetite, am- 
bition % Lo, a whole kingdom is presented him for a mess, a shrewd bait, 
2 Sam. XV. : Machiavel's position, ' Faith-breach for kingdoms is no sin.' 
The devil thought this dish would please Christ himself, and therefore oflfered 
him many kingdoms for a morsel. Matt. iv. 9, reserving this to the last, as 
the strongest argument of his sophistry. Doth Herod affect envy % Behold, 
a banquet of revenge, furnished with the murdered corpses of thousands of in- 
fant.s, ^Nlatt. ii. 1 G. Doth the ravening maw of the Pope, Ahab-like, 1 Kings 
xxi. 4, forbear meat, because he cannot get the vineyard of a kingdom ? Or 
hath he bound himself with the spells of devilish contestations (like those in 
the Acts, chap, xxiii. 14) not to eat or drink till he hath killed Paul? Be- 
hold, here is wine set before him in a golden cuj), (wine of abomination. 
Rev. xvii. 4,) wherewith whole nations reel : locusts and vipers, pestilent and 
serpentine poisons whereof the world laughing dies. Is any courtier proud ? 
Here are piles of silks. Is any officer troubled with the itch in his hands ? 
Here is unrjuentum aureum to cure it ; a mess of bribes. Hath any gentle- 
man the hunger-worm of covetousness ? Here is cheer for his diet : usuries, 
oppressions, exactions, enclosings, rackings, rakings, pleasing gobbets of ava- 
rice. Is any tradesman light-fingered and lighter-conscienced ? Here is a 
Avhole feast of frauds, a table furnished with tricks, conveyances, glos.sings, 
perjuries, cheating.s. Hath any Papist a superstitious appetite 1 He is set 
down in the chair of ignorance, and to him are served in, by Sorbonnist.s, 
Jesuits, Seminaries, LoyoLists, a large and lavish feast of crucifixes, unctions, 
scrapings, traditions, relics, ic; and, as cheese to digest all the rest, yet itself 
never digested, treason. For your rout of epicures, ruffians, roarers, drunk- 

VOL. I. L 



IQ2 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMOnXIII. 

ards, boon companions, you may know the place easily where these kestrels 
li"ht, even at the carcase-feast. Sin hath in\dtecl them, and they scorn to be 
scornful. Hither they come, and every man hath a dish by himself, — eat 
whiles he blows again, — except their aj^petites agree in the choice. You hear 
the inviter. 

Let it not pass us without observation : Satan is not without his factors 
abroad. He hath spirits enough of his own, — ' Lly name is legion,' Mark v. 9, 
— but he is not content except he suborn man against man, till homo be homini 
dccmon, — man a Judas to his friend, woman an Eve to her husband. I 
confess he hath many setters of this disposition in a literal sense ; harlots, 
scattering his stews, like the lice of Egypt, over all the world. But I will 
not restrain his kingdom to these narrow limits only, which is not bounded 
but with the earth. He that compasseth it. Job ii. 2, and hath such dealings 
in all kingdoms, is not without his plotters and intelligencers in every corner. 

lie hath superstitious Seminaries in the country, mercenary in the hall, a 
long lane for brokers and usurers in the city, and sometimes a dangerous 
brood of Jesuits in foreign courts, croaking like frogs, even in their Pharaoh's 
chambers, Ps. cv. 30 ; whilst himself roves on the sea of this world like a 
pirate. Cardinals and Jesuits are his mariners, and the Pope sits at the 
stern. Antichrist is his steward, — strange, he who calls himself Christ's vicar 
should be the devil's steward ! — and hath ever been faithful to his kingdom. 
^Many souls have they successively sent to people his low world, whiles then- 
own went also for company. The wickedness of some Popes has been 
monstrous, and almost forbidding all the officers of Satan to match them : 
that if a score of the most prodigious reprobates should be mustered out of 
hell, it is likely enough that nineteen of them would be Popes ; and perhaps, 
to make up the twentieth, there would be some strife between a Jesuit and 
u cardinal. 

Piome is this harlot's local seat, her house, styled by the Scripture, ' the 
whore of Babylon,' Her doctrine is here expressed : ' Stolen waters are sweet, 
and the bread of secrecies is pleasant ' — waters of heresy, stolen from the 
cisterns of superstition, Jer. ii. 13; the bread of deceit, moulded by error, 
and baked in the oven of tradition. We have three common enemies : as 
we are men, the devil ; as Christians, the Turk ; as professors of the gos- 
pel, the Pope. The first hath the two last for his factors ; of whom -we pray, 
aut convertaniur, ne pereant ; aut confiindantur, ne noceant, — either for 
their conversion, to save themselves; or for their confusion, not to hurt us. 
Amongst us the Pope doth most present mischief Peter told Christ, Luke 
xxii. 38, ' Behold, here are two swords :' Christ told Peter, Matt. xvi. 19, 
' Behold, here are the keys.' Peter lays by the swords, and takes the keys ; 
the Pope now lays by his keys, and tails to the sword. Oh quantum mic- 
totus hie Fetrus ab illo 1 — What difference betwixt the true Peter and his 
false successor ! Yet, as if he were heaven's porter, men flock to him; whom 
lut mc appose with that of the poet — 

' Et quoo tanta fuit Romani tibi causa videndi ? ' — 
' What foolish wind blows you to Rome ?' 

lie lialli infinite petty stales, to tempt men to sin, whom he hath officed 
for Itiilders to tliis feast. Will you take a short muster of some of his in- 
viters?— o/yrtH« iiw/uilatis, engineers, bidders to this ban(j[uet of vanity; they 
liave all their several stands. 

(1.) In the Coicrt he hath set Amhition, to Avatch for base minds, that 



PrOV. IX. 17, 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 103 

would stoop to any villany for preferment, and to bring them to this feast. 
This attempt can tempt none but the base ; the noble spirit cannot be so 
wrought upon. This is a principal bidder. 

(2.) In Foro, at the hall gates, he sets inviters, that beckon contention to 
them, and fill the world with broils. I mean neither the reverend judges, 

nor the worthy councillors, nor the good attorneys ; but the libels of law 

Solicitors indeed, for they are a solicitation to our peace ; pettifoggers, Satan's 
firebrands, and mortal things, which ' he casteth abroad to make himself 
sport.' But they do more hurt amongst the barley, the commons of this 
land, than Samson's foxes with the fire at their tails. Judges xv. 5. Oh 
that they were shipped out for Virginia, or, if they would trouble so good a 
soil, into some desert, where they might set beasts together by the ears, for 
they cannot live without making broils ! 

(3.) Pride is another bidder, and keeps a shop in the City. You shall 
find a description of her shop, and take an inventory of her wares, from the 
prophet, Isa. iii., ' the tinkling ornaments, the cauls, and the moon-tires,' &c. 
She sits upon the stall, and courts the passengers with a What lack ye ? Nay, 
besides her person, she hangs out her picture ; a picture unlike herself, 
though she appears not unlike her picture— all paint. Infinite traflic to her' 
but with the same luck and success that visitant beasts came to the sick 
lion — vestigia nulla retrorsum; or at best, as the runners to Rome, that re- 
turn with shame and beggary. 

(4.) Engrossing is another invitcr, and hath a large walk ; sometimes he 
watcheth the landing of a ship ; sometimes he turns whole loads of corn 
besides the market. This bidder prevails with many a citizen, gentleman, 
fiu-mer, and brings in infinite guests; the devil gives him a letter of mark for 
his piracy. 

(5.) Bribery is an officious fellow, and a special bidder to this feast. He 
invites both forward and froward : the forward and yielding, by promises of 
good cheer, secunda dies, that they shall have a fair day of it ; the backward 
honest man, by terrors and menaces that his cause shall else go westward : 
(iiideed, it goes to Westminster !) Yea, with j^retence of commiseration and 
pity, as if the conscience of their right did animate him to their cause. Thus 
with a show of sanctimony they get a saint's money ; but indeed, argenfum 
fcecundum, argu77ie}iti(m facimdion,— there is no persuasion more pathetical 
than the purse's. Bribery stands at the stair-foot in the robes of an officer, 
and helps up injury to the place of audience ; thus Judas's bag is drawn 
with two strings, made of silk and silver, favour and reward. 

All officers belong not to one court ; their conditions alter with their 
places. There are some that seem so good that they lament the vices, where- 
upon they yet inflict but pecuniary punishments. Some of them are like 
the Israelites, with a sword in one hand and a trowel in the other, with the 
motto of that old emblem, In utriimqiie paratus ; as the one hand daubs up 
justice, so the other cuts breaches of division. They mourn for truth and 
equity, as the sons of Jacob for Joseph, when themselves sold it ; they ex- 
claim agauist penal transgressions. So Caius Gracchus defends the treasury 
from others' violence, whiles himself robbed it ; so the poinder chafes and 
swears to see beasts in the com, yet will pull up a stake, or cut a tether, to 
find supply for his pin-fold ; so Charles the Fifth was sorry for the Pope's 
durance, and gave orders of public prayers for his release, yet held him in 
his own hands prisoner. 

(G.) Faction keeps the Church, and invites some vain-glorious priests to 



j/j^ THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeEMON XIII. 

this feast : schism and separation, like a couple of thorns, prick the church's 
Bide wound our mother till her heart bleeds. All seminaries of sedition are 
Satan's special factors. 

(7.) Riot is his inviter in a tavern. He sits like a young gallant at the 
upper end of the table, and drinks so many and so deep healths to the absent, 
that the present have no health left them. This is a frequented inviting- 
place, that I say not the feast itself. Covetousness often is the host, Ebriety 
drinks the licpior. Swearing keeps the reckoning, Lust holds the door, and 
Beggary pays the shot. 

(A\ Oppression hath a large circuit, and is a general bidder to this banquet. 
This fiictor hath abundance of the devil's work in hand : he untiles the houses 
of the poor, that whiles the storms of usury beat them out, he may have 
peaceable entrance ; he joins house to house, as if he was straitened of room : 
tell him from me, there is room enough for him in hell. 

There are infinite swarms of inviters besides, which run like vagabonds on 
the de%'irs errand, with salutems in their mouths, as Judas to Jesus, ' All haU ;' 
but it proved a rattling salutation, for death's storm followed it. All these 
declare to us the banquet's preparation. Infinite among ourselves, Rome 
otfers us more help ; but we answer them, as Octavian did of the crow, Satis 
istarum, avium habemus cloyni, — We have enough of these birds at home. 
They are messengers of our wreck, porpoises premonisliing a tempest ; usur- 
ers, brokers, vagrants, rufiians, blasphemers, tipplers, churls, wantons, ped- 
lars of pernicious wares, seminaries, incendiaries, apostates, humorists, sedi- 
tious troublers of our peace ; you may perceive that our winter is busy by 
the flying abroad of these wild geese. All are bidders. 

Use. — These instruments of tentation cannot hurt us, except we be ene- 
mies to ourselves. They do their worst : Vertitque in meliora Deus, — Rom. 
viii. 28, ' God turns all to our best.' Like wandering planets, they are 
carried with a double motion, sua et primo mobili, with their owa and a 
.superior mover. (1.) By their own, which though non sine errore, tamen 
mie terrore, — wandering and stalking with big looks, yet are not so feared as 
they expect. (2.) By the first and great mover's, which overrules them mth a 
violent hand. Perhaps they exercise us with tentations, as Ashur did Israel, Isa. 
X. .5, with Isa. xv. 15 ; but the work done, the rod is thrown into the fire. They 
are but rubbish to scour the vessels of God's house ; apothecaries to minister 
us bitter drugs, not able to put in one dram more than God our physician 
prescribes ; shepherd's dogs with their teeth beaten short, to hunt us to the 
aheepfolds of peace. In all their works, the villany is their own, the virtue 
God's ; as in Christ's betraying, opus Dei redemptio, opus Judce prod it io. 
If we think they flourish too long, let us satisfy ourselves with Job, chap. 
xxi. 17-30, and David, Ps. Ixxiii. 19, that subito ad inferos, 'they go sud- 
dunly down into the pit.' So the poet propped up his tottering hesitations 
with this conclusion — 

' Alistulit hunc tandem Ruffini poena tumultum, 
Absolvitque deos.'* 

In the end, God clears his justice from any imputation, by turning the 
workers of wickedness into hell. 

2. Do not think, l^ecausc I have held you long with the bidders, that I 
mean to forestall you of the banquet. Behold, I have brought you now to 
the feast, such us it is. ' Stolen waters are sweet, and the bread of secrecies 
ia pleasant.' Thus it is in gross ; to cut it up and serve it in, in several 

* Ckuidian. 



Pl^OV. IX. 17, IS.J TIIK FATAL BANQUET. IG-J 

dWies, you have, (1.) a prescription ; (2.) a description; (3.) an ascription; 
— a prescription of their names ; a description of their natures ; an ascription 
of their qualities. Qn(£, quanta, qualia: — (1.) The junkets are prescribed, 
qiue sint, of what kind they are ; waters, bread. (2.) They are described, 
quanta sint, of what property, virtue, nature ; stolen, secret. (.3.) They are 
ascribed to, qualia sint, of what operation, relish, or quality ; sweet, pleasant, 
stolen waters, &c. Thus have you their quiddity, their quantity, their qua- 
lity. This is the banquet, lautum, Icetam, dainty and cherishing ; cheap, for 
it is stolen ; delightful, for it is sweet. We will ascend to view this feast, 
not to feed on it, by the stairs and degrees of my text. You have, (1.) 
waters; (2.) stolen; (3.) sireet. vSo you have, (1.) bread; (2.) eaten in secret; 
(3.) pleasant. Of them all, first literally and morally, then doctrinally. 

(1.) ]Vaters. Not the waters that the Spirit moved on at the creation, the 
first waters. Gen. i. 2 ; nor the waters of regeneration, moved by the same 
Spirit, sanctifying waters, Isa. xliv. 3 ; nor the waters of Bethcsda, stirred by 
an angel, salutary and medicinal watci's, John v. 4 ; nor the ' waters issuing 
from under the threshold of the sanctuary,' preservative waters, Ezek. xlvii. 
1 : but the bitter waters of ]Marah, Exod. xv. 25, mthout the sweet wood of 
grace to season them ; ' waters of trouble,' from which David ju-ays for deli- 
verj', Ps. cxliv. 7, tumultuous waters ; waters that turn into blood, bloody 
waters, Exod. vii. 17; waters of tribulation, 2 Sam. xxii. 17, to them that 
digest it, though waters of titillation to them that taste it : much like our 
hot waters in these days ; strange chemical extractions, quintessences of dis- 
tilled natures ; viscera, ne dicam, mysteria terrce, — the bowels, nay, the myste- 
ries of earth; good and happy in their opportune and moderate use, but 
wretched in our misapplied lusts ; to turn the blood into fire, and to fiU the 
bones with luxury : not to make nature swim in a river of delights, but even 
to drown it. 

Waters : neither succory nor endive, &c. ; no refrigerating waters, to cool 
the soul's heat, but waters of inflammation : Spain's rosa solis, water of 
Inquisition ; Tyrone's usquebagh, water of rebellion ; Turkey's aqiia foHis, 
a violent and bloody water ; Rome's aqua inferna, a superstitious water, 
stUled out of sulphur and brimstone, through the limbeck of heresy. Oh, 
you wrong it : it is aqua vitce and aqua coelestis ! Let the operation testify 
it : it is aqua fortis, aqua mortis — vinwn barathri, the Avine of hell : no 
poisons are so baneful. It tastes like honey, but if Jonathan touch it, he 
will endangei his life by it, 1 Sam. xiv. 43. These arc wretched waters, 
worse than the moorish and fenny rivers, which, the poets feign, run with a 
duU and lazy course; tranquilla, alta, — streams stUl at the top, but boiling 
like a caldron of molten lead at the bottom. Fhlegeton et Fi/riphlegeton, 
ignitcc et jiarnmeas undo;, were mere fables and toys to these waters : they 
are truculent, virulent, noxious waters, derived by some filthy gutters from 
the mai'e mortuum of iniquity. 

The Pope hath waters not much unlike these of the devil's banquet — holy 
waters: holy indeed, for they are conjured with a holy exorcism, saith their 
mass-book. Of wonderful effects ; either si>rinkled outwardly, they refresh 
the receiver, as if his head was wrapped with a wet clout in a cold morning; 
or drunk down, they are powerful to cleanse the heart and scour out the 
devil. Oh, you wrong Rome's holy water, to think it the devil's drink, when 
the proverb says, the devil loves no holy water. Yes, he will run from it, as 
a mendicant friar from an alms ! To speak duly of it, it is a special river of 
deceit, and drowns more than ever did the Red Sea, when it swallowed a 
whole army of the Egyptians, Exod. xiv. Why, but holy water is a special 



Igg THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeKMON XIIL 

ransom to free souls out of purgatory, and digged out of the fountain of 
Scripture. Ps. li. 7, Asperges vie, Domine, hysopo, — ' Thou shalt sprinkle 
me, Lord, with hyssop ; ' for so their translation hath it ; the sense of which 
place is, saith the Romist, that the priest must dash the grave with a holy- 
water sprinkle. You must suppose that David was dead and buried when 
he si)ake these words, and his soul in limbo. It is added that Dives de- 
sired in hell 'a drop of water to cool his tongue,' Luke xvi. 24. Oh, 
then, how cooling and comfortable are the sprmklings of these waters on the 
graves of the dead ! But if they can speak no better for them, they will 
prove some of these waters here served in at sin's banquet ; for if Antichrist 
can make a man drunk with his holy water, he will swallow all the rest of 
his morsels with the less difficulty. 

These then are the zvaters : not the waters of regeneration, wherein our 
fathers and we have been baptized ; nor the waters of consolation, which 
' make glad the city of God;' nor the waters of sanctification, Avherein Christ 
once, the Spirit of Christ still, washeth the feet, the affections of the saints; 
not the Hyblaean nectar of heaven, whereof he that drinks ' shall never thirst 
again,' John iv. 1 4 ; nor the waters of that ' pure river of life, clear as crystal, 
proceeding out of the throne of God,' Rev. xxii. 1 ; but the lutulent, spumy, 
maculatory waters of sin, either squeezed from the spongy clouds of our cor- 
rupt natures, or surging from the contagious (veins of hell) springs of temp- 
tation. 

I might here blab to you the enemy's secrets, and tell you his riddles, his 
tricks, his policies, in that he calls sins waters, and would make his guests 
believe that they wonderfully refresh ; but I reserve it to a fitter place : the 
sweetness shall carry that note from the waters.* I will contract all to these 
four observations, as the sum of that I would write of the waters, not on the 
waters — de aqids, non super aquas : I have better hope of your memories. 
[1.] The preferment of waters at Satan's banquet. [2.] The devil's policy in 
calling sins by the names of waters. [3.] The similitude of sins to waters. 
[4.1 The plurality and abundance of these waters. 

[1.] Water is here preferred to bread; for lightly sin's guests are better 
drinkers than eaters ; they eat by the gomer and drink by the ephah. In- 
deed, a fuU belly is not of such dexterity for the devU's employment as a 
fidl brain. Gluttony would go sleep, and do neither good nor harm : 
Ebriety hath some villany in hand, and is then fitted with valour ; the 
drunkard is a Hercules fur ens, he will kill and slay. How many do that in a 
tavern which they will repent at a Tyburn! You will say, it is not Avith 
drinking water ; yes, the harlot's waters, such as is served in at the de\il's ban- 
quet, mixed with rage and madness. Water is an element : the sap in the 
vuie, the juice in the grape, the liquid in the ale or beer, is water. Indeed, 
sometimes Neptune dwells too far off from Bacchus s door, and the water is 
nia.stered with additions ; yet it may alienate the property, not annihilate 
the nature and essence of water : water it is still, though compounded water; 
com[)oundcd in our drinks, but in wines derived, d, primis naturae per media, 
not extinguished in the being, not brought to a nullity of waters. Drink, 
than, bibendmn alvjuid; though the hariot gives it a modest and cool name, 
' waters' is the first di.sh of this fatal banquet. The first entertainment into 
this Appu/oinim, Acts xxviii. 15, is with the three taverns; not so much a 
drunkcmicss to the brain as to the conscience. There is a ' drunkenness, 
not with wine : there is a staggcrhig, not with strong drink,' Isa. xxix. 9. 

* That iH, he will not Hpeak of these thhigs uow, while treatiug of the waters; but 
afterwards, nncler the head of sweetness.— Ed, 



PrOV. IX. 17, 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. ] G7 

The devil begins his feast with a health, as Belshazzar, Dan. v., whatsoever 
the upshot be. He propounds the water, and he propines it ; lie will not 
give them worse than he takes himself ; as Jupiter is said to have at his 
court gate two great tuns, whereof they that enter must fir.st drmk, and him- 
self begins to them, 

' Jupiter ambrosia satur est : est nectare planus.'* 

Intemperance is the first dish to be tasted of : it is, if not principalis, yet, 
Si ita diccan, principialis, — if not the prime dish, yet the first dish : Satan 
must first intoxicate the brains, and extinguish the eye of reason ; as the 
thief that would rob the house first puts out the candle. Understanding Is 
first drowned in these waters, — Acrasia prceit, Acrasia sequitur, — Riot justlcs, 
and the wit is turned besides the saddle. The ' sons of the earth ' would not 
so dote on the ' whore of Babylon ' if the ' wine of her fornication ' had not 
made them drunk, Rev. xvii. 2. The guests here ' rise early to the wine,' 
Isa. V. 11; it is the first service ; and are indeed, as the apostles were slan- 
dered, nme-o'clock drunkards, Acts ii. 13, 15. The day would be without 
his sufficient sorrow, active and passive mischiefs, if the morning wine should 
not inliame them. They that are daily guests at the devil's table know the 
fashions of his court ; they must be drunk at the entrance. It is one of hi? 
laws, and a physic-bill of hell, that they must not wash tUl they have drunk. 
These waters are to be applied inwardly first ; and once taken down, they arc 
fitted to swallow any morsel of damnation that shall afterwards be presented 
them. 

[2.] Water was the first drink in the world, and water must be the first 
drink at the devil's banquet. There is more in it yet : the devil shews a 
trick of his wit in this title. Water is a good creature, and many celestial 
things are shadowed by it. It is the element wherein we were baptized ; 
and dignified to figure the grace of the Holy Sjjirit, Matt. iii. 11. ■ Yet this 
very name must be given to sin. Indeed, I know the same things are often 
accepted in divers senses by the language of heaven. Leaven is eftsoons 
taken for h}^ocri3y, as in the Pharisees ; for atheism, as in the Sadducecs ; 
for profaneness, as in the Herodians ; and generally for sin, by Paul, 1 Cor. 
V. 7 ; yet by Christ, for grace, Luke xiii. 21. God is compared to a lion, 
Amos iii. 8 ; and Christ is called ' the Lion of the tribe of Judah,' Apoc, v. 
5 ; and the devil is called a lion, 'a roaring lion,' ifec, 1 Pet. v. 8. Christ was 
figured by a serpent, John iii. 14 ; and to a serpent is Satan compared, 2 Cor. 
xi. 3. Stones are taken in the worst sense. Matt. iii. 9, ' God is able of these 
stones to raise,' (fee. ; stones in the best sense, 1 Pet. ii. 5, ' living stones ;' 
and Christ himself, ' the head stone of the corner,' Ps. cxviii. 22. ' Be like 
children,' saith Paul, and 'not like children :' be children in simplicity, not 
in knowledge. Graces are called waters ; so here vices : but the attribute 
makes the difterence. Those are ' living waters,' these are the * waters of 
death.' The devil in this plays the sophister ; but I spare to follow this 
circumstance here, because I shall meet it again in the next branch, ' bread 
of secrecies.' 

[3.] Sins may in some sense be likened to waters ; yea, even to waters in 
the cup, for to waters in the sea they are most like. The one drowns not 
more bodies than the other souls. They know the danger of the sea ' that 
prosecute their business in great waters,' Ps. cvii. 23 : they might know the 
hazards of sin that sail in this barge of luxury. I may say of them both 
with the poet — 

♦ Ters. 



j^g THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeUMON XIII. 

' Digitis h, morte rcmoti 
Quatuor, aut septem, si sit latissima tseda ; ' — 

They are within four or seven inches of deat number. If there 
were but one cup alone, it would cloy, and satiate, and procure loathing, as 
even luanna did to Israel ; therefore Satan doth diversify his drinks, to keep 
the wicked man's appetite fresh and sharp. If he be weary of one sin, be- 
hold, another stands at his elbow. Hath Dives dined 1 He may walk up to 
his study, and tell his money, his bags, his idols ; or call for the key of his 
wardrobe, to feed his proud eye with his silks : for divitice et delicioe, riches 
and pleasure, serve one another's turn. If Nabal be weary of counting his 
flocks, or laying up tlieir fleeces, he may go and make himself drunk with 
lua sheep-.shcarcrs.^ Hence it is that ex malis moribus oriuntur 2ylurimce 
lerje«,f— to meet with the multiplicity of sins there is required a multitude 
of laws ; as, when physicians grow rich, it is an evident sign of an infected 
commonwealth. Sin stood not single in God's view, when he threatens so 
fcarfid a punishment, as the whole book again cannot match it, Hos. iv. 3, 
' 'I'hcrcfore the land shall mourn, and every one that dwelleth thereui shall 
h-uiguish, with the bcjusts of the field, with the fowls of heaven ; yea, the fish 



VllOV. IX. 17, 18.] THE t'ATAL BANQUET. 171 

of the sea also sliall be taken away,' — a universal vastation. But as, first, 
privatively, there was no truth, yet if there had been mercy ; nay, no mercy ; 
somewhat yet, if knowledge had stood constant ; no knowledge in the land : 
so, secondly, positively, there was swearing. Can swearing be without lying? 
No ; lying too. Is the tongue alone set on fire at the devil's forge ? James 
iii. No ; the hand is also a firebrand of hell, lulling, stealing, adultery, 
join their forces ; and to give testimony against their singularity, ' blood 
toucheth blood.' How should reprobates else ' fill up the measure of their 
sins V Thus when the ungodly have eaten and drunk, they may ' rise up to 
play,' 1 Cor. x. 7. 

Will you descend to personal instances ? Lo, some Judas is new come 
from this banquet ; give hmi a vomit, and what lies on his stomach 1 Strange 
waters, and abundance of them. Behold, the Spani.sh waters of pride, the 
Romish waters of treason, the Italian waters of murder, the Jewish of hypo- 
crisy, the Turkish of thievery, the Grecian of all villany. Ask Mary Mag- 
dalene what variety was at this banquet ; she will tell you of seven vials, 
seven devils, "i'ou may hear another tell his name. Legion. Bid Ab- 
salom give you a tavern-bill or short inventory of these waters, and 
he will read you : In priyiiis, the swelling waters of pride. Item, the 
surfeiting waters of luxury. Item, the scalding waters of adultery. Item, 
the red waters of bloodiness. Item, the black waters of treason. And for 
the shot, ask him the total sum of the bill, and he will tell you, damnation. 
If sins be thus familiarly linked in one man, how do they tune in a concert ? 
How agree they in company ? Nothing better ; not a broker and a i)awn, not 
a dear year and a cormorant. Hence Christ calls the way to perdition ' the 
broad way,' Matt. vii. 13. You cannot stir a foot in the great road to the 
city of hell, Pluto's court, but you meet sins in throngs. Vanity is the 
largest and most beaten thoroughfare in the world. Some double in their 
companies, some treble, some troop, none go single. Vce soli ; if one sin 
were alone, it would be easily vanquished. The devil knows that vis unita 
fortior, collected strengths are unconquerable, Eccles. iv. 10; and therefore 
drives his waters so that uncke super advenit unda, one wave seconds the 
fonner. Sometimes they go, like beasts, by couples : Rom. xiii. 13, * riot and 
drunkenness, chambering and wantonness, strife and envy;' Jer. xxiii. 10, 
' Adultery and oatha;' and Jer. ii. 13, ' My people have committed two evils,' 
&c. Sometimes they dance in triads, by threes : Phil. iii. 19, ' gluttony, 
pride, covetousness ;' Gal. v. 2G, ' vain-glory, provocation, malice ;' Amos i. 
3-6, * For three transgressions and for'four,' &c. ; if there be not rather a 
great number meant. St John abridgeth all the vanity of the world into a 
triplicity : 1 John ii. IG, ' All that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the 
lu.st of the eyes, the pride of life.' This is the trinity the world doth wor- 
sliip : Uccc t)ia pro trino numine mundus hahet. Sometimes they come by 
whole herds and droves, like the host of the Aramites. Gal. v. 19, you may 
read them mustered up : ' Adultery,' <tc. 

Thus I have shewed you the multiplicity of these waters ; what remains but 
that the same fire of God's altar, that hath enlightened your understandings, 
do a little also warm your consciences ? I should prevent the method of my 
text, if I should yet shew you the direful, dismal operation of these waters ; 
yet somewhat I must .say to make you loathe them. As captains provoke 
their soldiers per verimm vocale, per semivocale, 2yer nudum, — by vocal 
speeches, semivocal drums and trumpets, mute ensigns ; so God dissuades 
you from these waters — 1. P>y his words; viva et vivifica voce, — a living 
and enliving word : either in the thunders of Sinai or songs of Zion, which 



I "2 THE FA.TAL BANQUET. [SeRMOX XIIT. 

tlie Word incarnate hath sp(-»ken. 2. Or by his semivocal writings ; for at 
the beginning God talked with man himself, but after, fiudmg him estranged 
from his Creator, he sent him his mind in writing;* and this he makes 
sounding by his ministers. 3. Or by his dumb ensigns — wonders, terrors, 
judgments, upon tlic lovers of these waters. 

IJge 1, — Trust not too much to these waters; they are not so virtual as 
the described inviters, the devil's prophets, tell you. Satan had long since 
his water-prophets ; such were the oracles Colophonium and Branchidicum,t 
wherein one ]>y drinkuig of waters, the other by receiving the fume of waters, 
foretold future things. Porphyry observes that antiquity called them fiaviav, 
madness : but the error and impudence of succeeding ages /xai/rs/ai/, divina- 
tions. These are the priests of Bacchus, welcome to the world, as those 
would have been to Israel, that ' prophesy of wine and strong drink,' Micah 
ii. 11. Men hear of strange fountains, famoused for wondrous cures, and run 
straight thither. The devil is a juggler, and would make men believe that 
if they drink at his fountain of idolatry, they shall have good luck after it ; 
he blushed not to lay this battery of temptation to the Son of God, Matt. iv. 
9. As good luck as Samson had, when he drank out of the ass's tooth, and 
presently after lost his eyes. Judges xv. ; or rather, as he that, to find his 
horse, must, by the mass-priest's direction, drink at St Bride's well, and ac- 
cordingly found his horse, and riding home thereon broke his neck. Yield 
it a fable, the moral shall yield, us this ; That we trast nothing which hath 
not God's word for warrant. Charms, spells, conjurations, are all vanities, 
' lying vanities ; he that trusts thereto forsakes his own mercy,' Jonah ii. 8. 

Use 2. — Fear these waters, for they are dangerous. Sin is not more cool 
in the taste than it is fiery in the operation. Affliction is hot to the relish, 
(' You cannot drink of my cup,' Matt. xx. 22,) but cool, easeful in the diges- 
tion ; but these waters are mel in ore, fel in corde, — sweet in the palate, 
bitter in the stomach. The oracle gave it : Ninum prius capi non posse, 
qunm fluvius ei fiat hostis,^. — Nineveh should not be taken before the waters 
became her enemy. She feared no inundation, the sea was too remote ; yet 
in the third year of her siege, the w\aters of the clouds broke loose, and with 
abundant rain overwhelmed the walls, — muros dejecit ad stadia viginti, — to 
twenty furlongs. We live secure, and devour these waters of iniquity as 
fishes the water of the sea ; but when God shall make our sins compass us at 
the> heels, Ps. xlix. 5, and raise up these floods against us, we shall cry, as the 
drowning world, ' Woe unto us, the waters are become our enemies !' the 
floods of our .sins overwhelm us. So the drunkard drinks a river into his 
belly, that drowns his vital spiiits with a dropsy. 

Use 3. — Let us pump out these waters of sin which we have devoured. 
It is the only course we have left to keep our ship from sinking : Evomite, 
qiios l)ilnstis,flnvios. Cast them out by repentance, — this is a saving vomit, — or 
else God will give you a vomit of .sulphur, and ' shameful spewing shall be 
for your glory.' We have all drunk liberally of these waters; too prodi- 
gally at .sin's fountain, quando voluimus et quantum valuimus; when we 
would, a.s nnich as we were able ; not only to drunkenness, biit even to sur- 
foit and madness : if we keep them in our stomachs, they will poison us. 
Oh, fetch them up again with buckets of sighs, and pump them out in rivers 
of tears, for your sins ! Make your ' heads waters, and your eyes fountains,' 
.J<T. IX. 1 ; weej. your consciences empty and dry again of those waters. 
Jtppintance only can lade them out. They that have dry eyes have waterish 
* C'lirys. Serm. de Je>uiiiH. f Alexius., lib. v., cap. 2. 

+ Diodor. Sicul. 



PrOV*. IX. 17, IS.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 173 

hearts, Ps. cxix. 136 j and the proverb is too true for many, ' No man comes 
to heaven witli dry eyes :' let your eyes gush out tears, not only in compas- 
sion for others, but in compunction for yourselves, ' that have not kept God's 
law.' Weep out your sullen waters of discontent at God's doings, your 
garish waters of pride, freezing obduracy, burning malice, foggy intemper- 
ance, base covetise. Oh, thuik how you have despised the waters of life, 
turned Jesus Christ out of your inn into a beastly stable, whUes pride sits 
uppermost at your table, malice usurps the best chamber in your minds, 
lust possesseth your eyes, oaths employ your tongue, ebriety bespeaks your 
tastes, theft and injury enthrone themselves in your hands, mammon ob- 
sesseth your affections. Sick, sick all over ! You may cry with the Shunam- 
mite's son, 2 Kings iv. 19, Caput dolet, — 'My head, my head!' and with 
Jerusalem, Jer. iv. 19, ' ^My bowels, my bowels !' Oh, let faith and repent- 
ance make way, that the blood of our Saviour may heal you ! 

We are not only guUty of averseness from Gud, but of adverseness against 
God. Oh, where is our reverting to God. The waters of lusts are aquce rrj; 
avaia;, the waters of folly and madness ; but our tears are aquoe rra //,£ra- 
Moiag, the waters of change of mind and repentance ! Poenitentia est quasi 
poemv ienentia, — Repentance is a taking punishment of ourselves. Oh, take 
this holy punishment on your souls ! Weep, weep, weep for your vanities. 
Achan cannot drink up his execrable gold, nor Gehazi devour his bribes, 
nor Ahab make but a draught of a vineyard mingled with blood, nor Judas 
swallow down his cozenage and treason, without being called to a reckoning. 
Nos quare non credimus, quod omnes astahimus ante tribunal ? * — Why ac- 
count we not of our future standing before a judgment-seat 1 Omnium aures 
pulso. All we whom these Twalls compass have been drunken with these 
waters : some, that hate swearing, with dissembling ; some, that abhor idola- 
try, with profancness ; some, that avoid notoriousness, with hypocrisy ; many, 
that pretend ill-will to all the rest, with those lares el lemures, household 
gods, or rather household goblins and devils, which almost no house is free 
from — fraud and covetousness. We know, or at least should know, our own 
diseases, and the special dish whereon we have surfeited. Oh, why break 
we not forth into ululations, mournings, and loud mournings for our suis ? 
Cease not tiU you have pumped out the sins of your souls at your eyes, and 
emptied your consciences of these waters. 

Use 4. — And then, ])ehokl other, behold better, behold blessed waters, John 
iv. 14. You ta.ste of them in this life, and they fill your bones ^vith marrow 
and your hearts with joy ; they alone satisfy your thirst, Matt. v. 6 ; without 
which, though you could vdth Xerxes' army drink whole rivers dry, your burn- 
ing heat could not be quenched. Here drink. Cant. ii. 4, Bibite el inebriamiiii, — 
Drink and be drunken in this wine-cellar ; only, having drunk hearty di-aughts 
of these waters of life, retain them constantl3^ Be not queasy-stomached, 
Demas-like, to cast them up again : the token of a cold stomach not yet 
heated by the Spirit ; for as the loathing of repast is a token that nature 
draws towards her end, so when these holy waters prove fastidious, it is an 
argument of a soul near her death. Take then and digest this water. Reci- 
pitur aure, retinetur corde, ])erjicitur opere, — The ear receives, the heart re- 
tains, the life digests it. But, alas ! we retain these waters no longer than 
the finger of the Holy Ghost keeps them in us ; like the garden-pot, that 
holds water but whiles the thumb is upon it. 

Leave then, b)eloved, the devil's wine-cellar, as venerable Beda calls it, 
ubi 710S dulcedo deleclationis invitavit ad bibendum,\ — where the sweet 
* Orig. Horn. v. in Levit. ■[ Bed. ExLorat. 139. 



174 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XIII. 

waters of delight tempt us to drink. But David, though lie longed for it, 
would not drink ' the water of the well of Bethlehem,' which his three wor- 
thies fetched, because it was 'the water of blood,' 1 Chron. xi. 19, brought 
with the danger of life. And shall we drink the waters of this fatal banquet, 
the venture of blood, with the hazard of our dearest souls? No, come we 
to this aqua coelestis, be we poor or rich, have we money or none, all that 
come are welcome, Isa. Iv. 1. And know, that having drunk liberally at the 
fountain of grace, you shall have yet a large and pleasant draught at the 
fountain of glory ; that ' river of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the 
throne of God and the Lamb,' Rev. xxii. 1, to which the ' Spirit and the 
bride' are inviters, and 'say, Come.' It is a delightful banquet we enjoy 
here : ' The kingdom of heaven is righteousness, and peace, and joy in the 
Holy Ghost,' Rom. xiv. 17. None know the sweetness of these joys but 
they that feel them. But the supper of joy, the banquet of glory, the waters 
of blessedness, are such as ' no eye hath seen,' &Co, 1 Cor. ii. 9. Illic heata 
vita in fonte* — There is the spring-head of happiness : they cannot want 
water that dwell by the fountain, 

' Nam licet allata gratus sit sapor in unda, 
Dulcius ex ipso fonte bibuntur aquse ; ' — 

That which is derived to us in pipes is pleasant ; oh, what is the delight at 
the well-head ! The devil, like an ordinary host, ' sets forth his best wine 
first, and when the guests have well drunk, worse ;' but thou, Lord, 'hast 
kept the best wine till the last,' John ii. 10. They are sweet we taste here, 
but medio de fonte leponim surgit amari aliquid. There are some persecu- 
tions, crosses to embitter them, the sweet meat of the passover is not eaten 
without sour herbs ; but ' in thy presence, Lord, is the fulness of joy ; at 
thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore,' Ps. xvi. 11. There is no 
bitterness in those waters ; they are the same that God himself and his holy 
angels drink of : so that, as for Christ's sake we have drunk the bitter cup 
of persecution, so we shall receive at Christ's hands the cup of salvation, and 
shall bless the name of the Lord. To whom, three Persons, one only true 
and eternal God, be all praise, glory, and obedience, now and for ever ! 
Amen, 

♦ August. 



THE FATAL BANQUET. 



THE SECOND SERVICE. 



Stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant. — Prov. IX. 17. 

We have already served in the first course at this Fatal Banquet, and feasted 
your ears with those waters, from which God keep your souls fasting. Some 
things are proposed to our practice, some things are exposed to our contempt 
and dislike. The more accurately the Scri2)tures describe sins, the more abso- 
lutely they forbid them ; where wickedness is the subject, all speech is decla- 
mation. As no spectator at those horrid tragedies, where Qildipus is beheld 
the incestuous husband of his own mother, or Thyestcs drunk with the blood 
of his own children, or at any of the bleeding banquets of the Medea, can re- 
ceive those horrors at the windows of his senses, without terror to his bowels, 
and trembling to his bones : so when you hear the relation of the devil's 
cheer, all the flattering, petulant, insidious, nature-tickling dishes of delight, — 
the rarities of impiety, the surfeits of the world, horse-leeches to the blood, 
witches to the aflfectioni^, devils to the consciences of men, — think that they 
are related that they may be rejected. To bestow upon the devil's cats his 
owTi names : the glory of pride, the satiety of epicurism, the gallantness of 
ebriety, the credit of murder, the gi-eatness of scorn, the gracefulness of swear- • 
ing, the bravery of the stigmatic fashion, the security of usury, the singularity 
of opinion, the content of superstition; nunciantvr, id renuncientur. Think 
not they are prescribed for you when they are described to you. Monstran- 
tur ut monstra, — they are .sot forth as monsters, that they might be loathed ; 
they are advanced as traitors' lieads, in terrorem futuri proditoris, — to the 
terror of him that should be tempted to future treason. 

God's intent in declaring this banquet of sin is to make you loathe it ; 
and that which 'is written Is for our instruction,' 1 Cor. x. 11, to deter, not 
to conunond : as some of the heathen had a custom in their solemn feasts, to 
make a bi)nd-slave drunk, and then set him forth as a ridiculous object to 
their children. This banquet, then, perhibetur una et prohibetur, is at once 
declared and declaimed, spoken of and forbidden ; lest through ignorance 
you should like and eat it, you are more fidly made acquainted with the 
vileness of it. Hence our royal preacher draws the curtain of the world, and 



17C THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XIV. 

shews you all tlie delicates of her table ; not to whet your appetites to feed 
on them, but to cool your courage, dishearten your opinions, alienate your 
aflFections ; giving you a true censure of their worth : ' All is vanity, and 
vexation of soul,' Eccles. i. 14. They are detected, that they might be de- 
tested. Therefore if any of Gracchus's brood shall like a CatUinary disposi- 
tion the better because Tully hath indicted, interdicted, condemned it ; if 
any son of Belial shall more affectedly devour some morsel of damnation at 
this feast, because the preacher hath execrated it, and derive at once notice 
and encouragement from our terrifying censures, testimonium sihi ferat con- 
demnationis, — let him bear in himself the evidence of his owti condemnation. 
They are wretched men that most impetuously pursue what all good men 
dissuade ; running with Ahimaaz the more eagerly, because their friend Joab 
forbids them, 2 Sam. xviii. 22. So blasphemously spake the sacrilegious 
S])OLlcrs of Proserpine's temple in Locris, whose ringleader was Dionysius : 
Videtisne cnnici, qiiam bona navigatio ah ipsis dds sacrilegis tribuatur?* — 
saihng home, and now arriving at the haven safe, ' See you not, my friends,' 
saith Dionysius, ' how fair and fortunate a navigation the gods vouchsafe to 
sacrilege V As if they therefore robbed the church because they were by 
the oracle expressly inhibited ; so gens humana ruit in vetitum nefas, — ■ 
man's nature precipitates itself into forbidden wickedness. This is a horrid 
sin : 2)^ccatum 2)>'i'>nce impressionis et sine nomine adcequato, — a wickedness of 
that nature that there is no name significant enough to express it. 

The manners of the heathen might justify, and exemplarily make good that 
verse : — 

' Nitimur in vetitum semper, cupimusque negata ; ' — < 

' We hunt for things unlawful with swift feet. 
As if forbidden joys were only sweet.' 

But such a report among Christians is so strange, thsit Jidum non factum 
esse videatur, — it would seem rather a fable than a fact, a tale than a deed. 
2 Sam. i. 20, ' Publish it not in Gath, nor tell it in the streets of Askelon,' 
that any Israelite should the more desperately cleave to Baal because Elias 
hath cursed it. There are none such ; neither is there rain in the clouds. In- 
deed, charity would not believe it, for it is even the order of nature that tarda 
sold magnis rebus adesse fides, — slow faith is given to great reports ; but, alas ! 
we are forced to see, what we would not believe, such refractory recusants to 
all Christianity, living and speaking kutu rac, l-Tridv/Miug, ' according to their 
own lusts.' That would not be so ill, if they had not been taught to be 
better : Quihus res divince lusus sunt, Us et voluptas pro vita, et libido pro 
rations est,i- — They that play with divinity, and make religion a mock, guide 
their life by pleasure, and their reason by lust. Time was, ' the kingdom of 
heaven suffered violence, and men took it by strong hand,' Matt. xi. 12; 
now it offers violence, and men by strong hand repel it : before it so was 
l)reciou.s, that ' every man pressed and crowded into it, Luke xvi. IG ; now 
it pressetli upon us, and we are glad to be rid of it, as covetousness of 
poverty at his door. And as the fountains would not be so cold if the sun 
had nut heated the air, and forced the contrary quality into such abstruse 
corners, many woukl have been less outrageous in their lilthiness if the 
gospel of grace had not so universally spread his beams. Their whole life is 
a continual prevarication ; and it is the cordial j^hysic to fat their spleens, 
that they can be cross to God. 

J Jut lex in sermone ienenda.—l speak to Christians, of whom we cannot 
• Valer. Max., lib. i., cap. 2. f Marl, iu 2 Pet. iii. 



T*ROV. IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 177 

but hope better things. If there bo any here that hath sold his faith for his 
pleasure, as Adam did his life for an apple, or Esau his birthright for a mess 
of pottage, and will venture himself a guest at the dcvil'.s banquet, maugre 
all devitation ; let him stay and hear the reckoning, for there is a shot to be 
piud, which cannot be avoided. As Circe's cup turns men into beasts, so 
it brings them to a beastly end ; it fats them against the shiughter-day of 
judgment 

(2.) We leave then the prescription of the waters, and come to the descrip- 
tion of their natures : stolen. It is a word of theft, and implies, besides the 
action of stedth, some persons active and passive in tliis business : some that 
do wrong, and steal ; some that suffer wrung, and are robbed. Robbery is a 
sin, literally forbidden only in one commandment, but by inference in all. 
What sin is committed, and some person is not robbed ] Doth not idolatry 
rob God of his worship ? Blasphemy of his honour ? Sabbatli impiety of 
his reserved time ? Doth not irreverence rob our betters % Murder rob man 
of his life ? Theft of his goods 1 False testimony of his good nan^e or 
right ? Doth not the harlot here knit the eighth precept to the seventh, and 
call adulterium, furtuin, — the pleasure of a forbidden bed, ' stolen waters 1 ' 
' Let us solace ourselves with loves, for the goodman is not at home,' <tc. 
Justice gives cuique suum : Deo religionem, sihi munditiam, parentihus hono- 
rem, famiiiaribu& providentiain, filiis coirectionem, fratribus amorem, dominis 
suhjectls henignitatem, cequitalem omnibus* 

Since, then, all sins are waters of stealth, it is an inevitable consequent 
that every sin robs some ; let us examine whom. The parties robbed are 
God, man, ourselves ; and there be divers sins rob either of these. Of 
every circumstance a little, according to the common liking ; for some had 
rather hear many points than learn one : they would have every word a 
sentence, and every sentence a sermon ; as he that wrote the Paternoster iii 
the compass of a penny. Only I entreat you to observe, that this is a 
thievish banquet, where is nothing but stolen waters ; all the cates be rob- 
beries : the guests cannot drink a drop but there is injury done. Accord- 
ingly, I will jointly proceed to describe the waters of sin at this feast ; and 
withal, to prove them stolen waters, such as rob either our God, our brethren, 
or ourselves. I need not clear the feast from an opinion of coarseness, be- 
cause the prime service goes under the name of waters ; this alone doth 
enforce the delicacy. Neither is all water, for the bread of secrecy is one half 
of the banquet. Let us not be too nice in the letter and shadow : the sub- 
stance is, the devil invites and tempteth men to feed on vanity, to feast on 
sin. Those sins I have laboured to display, so far as the metaphor would 
give me leave ; only let your affections follow me, that as I fear not to make 
the iniquities hateful to your understandings, so I may hope they will be 
loathed of your hearts, eschewed of your lives : in confidence whereof I 
proceed. 

The Jlrst course of these waters are such sins as more immediately rob 
God ; and here, as it is fit, Atheism leads in the rest, a principal vial of 
these stolen waters. 

[1.] Atheism is the highest theft against God, because it would steal from 
him not sua, sed se, his goods, but himself; proceeding further than '■ Deus 
luvc non curat,' to ' Deus non est' — than to say, ' God will not regard it,' Ps. 
X. 11-13; but, ' There is no God to regard it,' Ps. xiv. 1. These ofi"er not 
only a wicked hand to their own conscience, to scrape out the deep-engraven 
and indelible characters of the Divinity there, but a sacrilegious hand to 
* Ardena. 
VOL. X. M 



173 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeEMONXIV. 

beaven, as if they would empty it of a Deity, and pull Jehovali out of his 
throne, and make him a non ens. All, with them, is begun and done either 
by the necessity of fate or contingency of fortune. Te facimus fortuna 
cleam. If any strange vice be committed, the planets shall be charged with 
it : Mercury told the lie, ilars did the murder, Venus committed the whore- 
dom. Thus, by looking to the inferior causes, producing necessary efiects, 
they rob God, who is prima causa creans catisas, — the causing cause, and the 
ori-inal mover of all things. These are worse than the devil ; for if at first 
he doubts and tempts Christ, yet seeing, feeling his power and miracles, he 
confesseth : only impudent Caiaphas saw and knew, yet tempts, Matt, xxvi 
63. Thus often the instrument excels the agent ; and there be Macliiavels, 
politicians, atheists, have tricks beyond the devil. The devil ' believes and 
trembles,' James ii. 1 9 ; these have neither faith nor fear. The devil quakes 
at the day of judgment: Matt. viii. 29, ' Torment us not before the time ;' 
these deride it : ' Where is the promise of his coming ? ' 2 Pet. iii. 4. 
Strange ! Even the father of sins comes short of his children ; and that 
there should be atheists on earth when there is none in hell ! 

These monsters are in the wilderness ! No, they buiTow in Zion : if sel- 
dom such as say, ' There is no God,' yet frequent that call religion a fable, 
or at least testify no less of it in their lives ; for quorum est commune 
syviholum, facillhmis est transitus, — How many make that their gospel which 
they can spell into their purses, and embrace no other creed than their lord 
and master's humour ! That turn articles of piety to particles of policy ; 
and sojjhisticate old singleness into new singularity ! If a Seminary's argu- 
ment shall be more gold-weighty than the best sermon of ours, they are for 
Rome the next tide : any. religion that can enrich their coffers shall have 
their applauses. What differ these from atheists, or that Pope * who, hear- 
ing Cardinal Bembus speak of the gospel, burst forth into this blasphemy : 
Quantum nobis ac nosti'o ccetui profuerit ea de Christo fahula, satis est omni- 
hus secidis no(um,f — How gainful the fiction or tale of Christ hath been to 
us and our crew, the whole world may know and witness 1 All religion is 
with them a foble, or at best fallible. They would fit religion to their own 
humours, as Procrustes dealt with his guests : X for all that came he had but 
one bed. If they were shorter than his bed, he racked them out to make 
them long enough ; if longer, he would cut them shorter till they were fit. 
These are cruel thieves, that would rob God of himself. 

[2.] The second vial is Heresy : a dangerous water, because it soon tickles 
the brain, and makes the mind drunk. This sin robs God of his truth. 
There are many of these thieves, though contrary among themselves, whose 
opinions are as cross one to another as Samson's foxes, but their tails meet 
to scatter the fire of dissension in the church. No lawyers wrangle more in 
public, nor more lovingly feast one another in private with the gains of their 
dissimulation. How bitterly the Brownists on the right hand, the Papists 
on the left, rail at each other ! how friendly agree they, like Herod and 
Pihite, to alllict Clu-ist ! How in effect do they sing both in one tune, to 
build up devotion with ignorance, to wrangle with the prince for his supre- 
macy ! 

In elder times, you had Ccrinthus and Arius robbing Christ of his divinity, 
Manicluous and Marcion of his humanity, the Nestorians of the unity of 
both natures in one person. They are dead ; oh, bmy them, bury them ! 
Let their liercsies rot. Alas ! how are the spirits of them all, by a kind of 
transanimation, come into Ronnsts ! Christ is there robljcd of his truth, of 
* Leo X. t Baleus. J Met., lib. vii. 



PROV. IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 179 

his garments, of his peace, of his life, as well as at Jerusalem ; and that with- 
out show of being his enemies : Spoliastis amid, — You are my friends, yet 
rob me. Bones rob Christ of his adoration, stones of his prayers, the Pope 
of his power. Remission of sins, validity of merits, ease of pains, the Pope 
must give — who would give the world that he had them fur himself Too 
much shall be given to the name of Jesus, more than he would have : that a 
wicked man shall by it ca.st out devils ; to whom, if the devils reply not, as 
they did once to the audacious sons of Sceva, Acts xix. 15, ' Jesus we know, 
and Paul we know, but who are ye 1 ' yet God answers them, Quis hcec, 
&c., — '"Who hath required this at your hands?' Isa. i. 12. Too little to 
the truth of Jesus : man's merits shall share with him in justification, pen- 
ance in satisfaction, angels and saints in intercession. These are subtle 
thieves, that have their bodies for a communion, their consciences for a 
mass, their voices for the prince, their hearts for the Pope, their souls for 
anybody. 

[3.] The third vial of this course is Sacnlege : a water like some ^\'inding 
^Meander, that runs through our corn-fields, and washeth away the trath, 
God's part. This sin robs God of his goods : Mai. iii. 8, ' Will a man rob 
God 1 Yet ye have robbed me. But ye say. Wherein have we robbed thee ? 
In tithes and oflferings.' Oh that none among us durst druik of these stolen 
waters ! But, alas ! what law can be given to rob-altars ? If Blind A sinus 
be a man of gifts, so justified by the sensible presenter, what should cross his 
admission ? Is not a Quare impedit his special friend 1 Yes : and yet not 
more than a Prohibition is often a good minister's foe. Hence now there 
is little diflference l^etwixt serving at the altar and starving at the altar. 
Ministers have midtos laudatores, paucos datores, — many praisers, few raisers ; 
many benedictors, few benefactors. 

Plead not that they are not stolen, because conveyed by the ministers' 
consent ; for the right is originally in God. Spoliastis me, — ' You have 
robbed me,' saith the Lord. The incumbent consenting is not robbed, God 
is. They zealously require a learned ministry, when themselves embezzle the 
rewards of learning : they complain of an ignorant, not of a beggarly clergy. 
They are content we .should stand in the pulpit, so long as they may sit in a 
tithe-shock ; and seem wonderfully affected with the oraculous voice of their 
minister, but the creaking noise of a tithe-cart into their own barn is better 
music. Oh the fearful cry of this sin in the ears of God against this land f 
He hath sprhikled some drops of his angry vial for it : droughts, blastings, 
witherings are but his Distiingis. He destroys all, because we will not pay 
some : Si domino decinmm nan dederis, ad decimam reverteris,^ — lie doth 
justly take away the nine when we deny liim the tenth. Indeed, I confess 
that m;my an Eliashib compacts with Tobiah to steal holy thing.s, Neh. 
xiii. 5 : a Gnostic patron, a Paphian priest ; so the one have ease, let the 
other take benefit. Tobiah must have the tithe-corn, the glebe land, and 
perhaps the veiy house for a dairy ; and his cousin Eliashib shall have the 
tithe-geese and the eggs at Easter. ' Shall not the Lord visit for such 
wickedness as this ? Shall not my soul be avenged on such a nation ? ' Jer. 
v. 9. 

Whiles the rewards of knowledge are diverted to profane uses, God and his 
heaven is robbed of thousand thousand souls. Oh, pray we, {quid enim nisi 
vota supersunt /)^pray we, with that most reverend bishop,t that God 
would rather convert ; if not, confound those that rob him of liis goods, the 
church of her right, the people of understanding. But if no contestation of 
* Augustine. t B. Babing in Gen., cap. 47. 



180 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XIV. 

GckI, nor protestation of man, can stint their swallowing these stolen waters. 
Jet some good Xchemiah be revived, to remforce from their felonious hands 
that holy rent which God hath from every tenant of his reserved : let the 
zeal of some Phinehas turn away God's wrath from our Israel. Decimate, 
quihus debetis, et divites Jietis, — Pay your tithes to whom you should pay them, 
and you shall be enriched. Mai. iii. 10, 'Bring ye all your tithes into the 
dtoreliouso, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now here- 
with, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, 
and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive 
it.' Read and ponder HeUodorus's deed and doom, 2 Mace, iii., and quake 
at it. You cannot steal waters from the living God, but they will poison 
you. 

[4.J The fourth vial is Faction : a water of trouble to the drinker ; this 
robs God of his order and peace. The waters of schism are stolen waters ; 
yet such as many a separatist loves to drink of : they steal peace from the 
church. Christi tunica must be unica, — Christ's coat was without seam, his 
truth must be without rent : we must be all at one, lest at all none. Let us 
not plead so hard for parity in the church, till we bring anarchy into the 
commonwealth. Let our dispositions be like Abraham's, Gen. xiii. 8, ' I 
pray thee, let there be no strife between me and thee, for we are brethren.' 
Let not God's eulaxij, order, by our frivolous scruples be brought to ataxy, 
confusion. Let Calvin's rule overrule our turbulent and refractory spirits : 
Omnia indifferentia in ecclesice lihertate posita sunt,^ — AH indifferent things 
are put to the disposition and ordering of the church. O you, whom Christ 
hatli made fishers of souls, fish no longer in troubled waters ! Let us not 
wrangle any more about colours, as the Constantinopolitans did once in the 
days of Justinian, about blue and green, till they were all neither blue nor 
green, but red ; the streets swimming in blood, and the emperor himself en- 
dangered. So the factions of the Bianchi and J^eri, about the two colours 
of black and white, cost the dukedom of Florence dear, even the beauty and 
peace of the country. What, have we all been deceived ? Hath God been 
a stranger to us all this while ? John xiv. 9, ' Have I been so long time 
with you, and have you not known me 1 ' saith Christ to Philip. Hath the 
truth been hid in corners, that we must grope for it in a sectary's budget 1 
Or are not such men rather sick of Donatism 1 That every novelist with a 
whirligig in his brain must broach new opinions, and have those made 
canons, nay, sanctions, as sure as if a general council had confirmed them ! 
Wretched men, that shake off the true, comely habit of religion, to bespeak 
them a new-fashioned suit of profession at a humorist's shop ! Oh that their 
sore eyes could, before they left us", have seen what sacrilegious breaches they 
have made into God's freehold ; robbing his church of her peace, and wak- 
ing ' the spouse of Christ ' with their turbulent noises ! Factions are stolen 
waters. 

[5.J The last vial of this first course is Profaneness : a compounded water, 
whereout no sin is excluded. There was no poison the devil could think on 
left out when he tempered this water. It robs God of his glory. We are 
born to honour God ; it is his due, and that he will have, either a te or de 
f^, — ^y thee or upon thee. Irreligion robs him of his honour, solummodo 
hoc habet, ic. ; oidy he hath this to help himself, that he can make it shine 
in thy just confusion. So Menaheni destroyed Tipsah, because they would 
not open unto him, 2 Kings xv. 16; but these wUl open to Christ knock- 
ing, if he will be content — 

♦ Instit., lib. iv., cap. 17, sec. 43. 



PrOV. IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 181 

Stramineaa habitare casas,' &c. ; — 

* Ba.sely to dwell in the divided part 
Of the foul, sluttish, and polluted heart.' 

If Christ will dwell with Belial, and share part of the conscience with. 
wickedness, let him come, and welcome ; but he scorns to be an inmate, and 
let Satan be lord of the house. lie that accepted a stable for his presence- 
chamber in his humiUty, doth justly disdaui such abodes now in his glory. 
Though the walls be but clay, if the furniture be good, humility and re- 
pentance, and the cheer answerable, faith and charity, he wUl enter in and 
feast. Rev. iii. 10. But as his womb was wherem born, and his tomb wherein 
buried, so must his temple be now he is glorified. He was conceived in a 
womb where none else was conceived, received into a tomb where none else 
was interred ; so he will temple himself in a heart where no affected sin shall 
be his equal. The profane among the heathen were thrust from their sacri- 
ficial solemnities : — 

' Innocui veniant : procul hinc, procul impius esto. 
Casta placent superis; pura cum mente venite;' — 

' Pure, innocent, and spotless sprites 
Are welcome to these holy rites : 
To the profane and sensual state. 
Be ever shut the temple-gate.' 

But now our profane save that labour ; they thrust from themselves aU 
pious rites. They smg not with the church, a Tenebo te, Domine, I will hold 
thee fast, Lord, Cant. iii. 4 ; but with Simeon, a Nunc dimittis, though 
with another spirit : they are glad to be gone. Christ is as welcome to them 
as Caesar's taxers to the Jews, or the beadle to the brothel-house ; so the 
Gergesites tell him to his face, .Matt. viii. 34 : Sir, to be plain with you, you 
are no guest for us ; our secure lives and your severe laws will never cotton. 

Men live without considering themselves : unde, ubi, quomodo, quo, — whence 
they are, where they are, how they do, whither they go : that all these mathe- 
matical lines have earth for their centre. Whence are we ? From earth. 
Where are we 1 On earth. How live we 1 Unworthy of the earth, or any 
Ijlessing upon it. Whither go we 1 To earth. Terrain terra teget, — ' Earth 
to earth.' We are composed of four elements, and they strive in us for mas- 
tery ; but the lowest gets the better, and there is no rest till earth have the 
ptcdominance. These men live as if there was neither earth to devour 
their bodies, nor gulf lower than earth to swallow their souls. 

This is profaneness. The world is rank and manured with sin. Atheism 
grows up as a tree, error and ignorance are the leaves, profaneness and re- 
bellion the fruit, and the end is the axe and the fire, Matt, iii 18. Their 
best is verbal devotion, seconded with actual abomination. Dividunt opera 
ajide, et utrumque perimitur, — They separate works from faith; they divide 
the child and kill it. Works are dead without faith, and faith is not alive 
without works. They take away that visible distinction betwixt Christians 
and infidels, whiles they live as honest men. Oh that I could cut this point 
short, and yet keep my discourse but somewhat even with the subject ; but 
the world drinks too greedily of these profane waters, which rob God of his 
glory. Most men are no longer tenants to the devil, and retailers of his 
wares, but proprietaries ; perverted and perverse persons, they strive to be a.s 
deep sharers as himself Machiavel will no longer work journey-work with 
the devil, he will now cut out the garment of damnation himself. The vices 



182 THE FATAL BANQUET, [SeRMON XIV 

of these men are so monstrous, that they no less benumb in all good men tba 
tenderness of affection, than in themselves the sense of all humanity. Vox 
faucibus hceret, — It is a shame to utter, an amazement to hear, yet they 
blush not to commit such execrable impieties. Impudence is only in fashion, 
and there is no forehead held so graceful as that the prophet calls graceless, 
and 'harlot's forehead,' that cannot blush, Jer. iii. 3. Swearing s\Yagger3 
out admonition; drunkenness guzzles down sorrow and penitence ; usury flouts 
at helL 

It was epitaphed on Pope Alexander's tomb, Jacet hie et scelits et vitium, 
— Here lies wickedness itself; it could not be so buried up. He was vile 
enough: 2'hais Alexandri Jllia, sponsa, nuriis. Lucrece was his daughter, 
his whore, his son's wife. Horrid! that viper went not to hell issueless. 
What is the common profession but infidelity and atheism, though not in 
antecedente, yet in consequente, — if not verbal, yet real ; under the ' form of 
godliness,' an implicit renegation of 'the power,' 2 Tim. iii. 5. Midti 
adorant crucem exterius, qui criicem spiritualem per contemptum concidcant* 
— Many superstitiously adore the crucifix that are ' enemies to the cross of 
Christ,' Phil. iii. 18, and 'tread his holy blood under their scornful feet,' 
Heb. X. 29. Nay, they are not wanting that brag with Pherecides,t that 
they have as much prosperity, though they never sacrifice, as they that offer 
whole hecatombs. They will be wicked, if it be for nothing else, to scape 
the rod of affliction. Job xxL They make sport with the book of God, as 
Daphias with the Delphic oracle,J who inquired of it whether he should find 
the horse which he had lost, when indeed he had none. The oracle answered, 
inventuruvi quidem, sed ut eo turhatus periret, — that he should fijid a horse, 
but his death withal. Home he is coming, joj-ful that he had deluded the 
oracle ; by the way he fell into the hands of the wronged King Attalus, and 
was by his command thrown headlong from a rock called the Horse, and so 
perished. As fabulous as you may think it, the moral of it will fall heavy 
on the deriders of God. 

These are the sins that immediately rob God, fitly called by our whor- 
ish sorceress ' stolen waters,' which shall be carried away without account. 
The -second sort of stolen waters are those sins which mediately rob God, 
inmiediately our brethren, depriving them of some comfort or right which 
the inviolable law of God hath interested them to ; for what the law of God, 
of nature, of nations, hath made ours, cannot be extorted from us without 
stealth, and may be, even in most strict terms, called stolen waters. 

[1.] Here, fitly. Irreverence is served in first : a water of stealth that robs 
man of that right of honour wherewith God hath invested him. Even Abi- 
melech, a king, a Gentile king, reverenced Abraham, Gen. xxi. ; even stately 
Herod, poor John Baptist, Mark vi. Yes, let reverence be given to supe- 
riority, if it be built on the basis of worthiness ; and to age, if it be ' found 
in the way of righteousness,' Prov. xvi. 31. Indeed it should be so, that 
fenlores ainiis should be sanio7'es animis, va\di prcefeclus, perfectm, — that emi- 
nency of pUice and virtue should concur, that greatness and goodness should 
dwell together ; but the ' conscience of reverence ' is fetched from God's pre- 
cept, not man's dignity, llom. xiii. 5, and therefore the omission is a robbery. 
The neglect of honour to whom it belongs is a stolen water. Prov. xxx. 17 
' The eye that mockoth at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother,'— doth 
he thmk them worthy, or not ?— 'the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, 
and the young eagles eat it.' But, alas ! these are those unreverent days, 
where infalix lolmm, et steriles dominantur avence, — invectives, railings, 
• GuiA CarthuB. + /EUan. Var. Hist., lib. iv. X Cic. de Fato. 



PrOV. IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 183 

calumnies, grow up among sober and wholesome admonitions : the same 
ground produceth both herl)s and weeds, and so nourisheth both sheep and 
serpents. 

' Terra salutiferas herbas, eademque nocentes 
Nutrit, et urticac proxima saepe rosa est.' * 

The nettle grows up with the rose, and the lamb must graze in the wolf's 
comi)any. These are like furious beasts, that, ranging for their prey, and 
being hampered in the snare, when they caimot break loose to forage, they 
lie down and roar. 

From this foul nest have fluttered abroad all those clamorous bills, slan- 
derous libels, malicious invectives, seditious pamphlets, whence not only good 
names have been traduced, but good thhigs abused. Self-conceit blows them 
up with ventosity ; and if others think not as well of them as they of them- 
selves, straight like porcupines they shoot theh- quiUs, or like cuttles vomit 
out ink to trouble the waters. That impudent and insolent claim is made 
ordhiary m these days : ' With our tongue we will prevail ; for our lips are 
our own,' Ps. xiL 4. WTieu the eagle in the air, panther in the desert, dra- 
gon in the deep, leviathan in the ocean are tamed, yet ' the tongue can no 
man tame ; it is an miruly evil, fuU of deadly poison,' James iii 8. It is 
fired, and with no weaker fire than hell's, ver. 6. Their hearts are ovens, 
heated with malice, and their tongues burning peels ; they are never drawn 
but there is a batch for the devil. These are not only the geese in the Ca- 
pitol, to gaggle at statesmen in the commonwealth, but foxes also about the 
temple, that, if they be seen stealing the grapes, fall a-bitiug their decriers 
by the shins. Because the church hath not heretofore given some the keys 
of her treasure, nor called for them when bishoprics and promotions were 
a-dealing, they will indict her of incontmency with Pome. Miserable sons, 
to slander their mother with adultery ! What they would and cannot do 
themselves, they blame in others ; with Korah, Num. xvi. 3, ' Ye take too 
much upon you, ye sons of Levi.' Libels are stolen waters. 

[2.] Murder usuq^s the second room : red water, that robs man of his 
life. Whether they be Popish commissions to cut tlu-oats, for the whore of 
Babylon can drink nothing but blood ; or the monstrous illuminations of 
the Anabaptist.s, deriving revelation from the spirit of horrid murder, that 
the brother should cut otf the brother's head by a command from heaven, 
the father and mother standing by, — Luther calls this a gross devil, Est hcec 
rudis cacodcevionis techna ; or the sudden quarrels of our age, where evi- 
dences of pusillanimity, or, at best, inconsiderate fury, are produced as argu- 
ments of valour, a cross word is ground enough for a challenge : and what 
issue hath streamed from these devils, who can think and not quake ? ' The 
land is defiled with blood,' Ps. cvi. 38 ; not shed by an alien hand, — God 
hath been content ta/em nobis avertere pestem, to free us from that plagiie, — 
but civU, uncivil broUs. We fail out for feathers ; some lie dead in the 
channel, whiles they stood too much for the wall. Others sacrifice their 
hearts' blood for the love of a harlot. Not to pledge a health is cause 
enough to lose health and life too. Oh, who shall wash our land from these 
aspersions of blood 1 Murder is but manslaughter, and man.slaughter no 
more than dog-slaughter. Farce civiuni sanguini should be our condition (f 
Ufe, as it is a .sanction of nature to spare the blood of citizens, connatural, 
collateral, connational with ourselves ; but now it is not spared sangaini vel 
civiuni vel sanctorum, — to spill the blood of either citizens or stunts. Yet 
•• Ovid, de Remed. Amor., lib. i. 



Igi THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeEMONXIV. 

' precious in tlic siglit of tlie Lord is the blood of his saints,' when the blood 
of his enemies shall not be impunely shed. 

There is not a drop of blood thus spilt upon the earth but swells like an 
ocean, and nothing can dry it up till it be revenged. The most excellent of 
God's creatures on earth, the beauty, the extract, the abstract, or abridgement 
of the world, the glory of the workman, the confluence of all honour that 
mortality can afford, and, what is above all the rest, the image of the al- 
mighty God, with pain bom, with expense nurtured, must fall in a moment ; 
and by whom 1 One son of Adam by another. The proverb is exiled, 
floyno homini deus, — ]\Ian is a god to man ; nay, it is rare, saith the philo- 
sopher, to find a man to man. For want of using reason, how many are 
beasts ! and for not using it well, how many devils ! Hear the law, ye law- 
less brood of Cain, that ' slay a man in your anger : ' ' Blood for blood.' 
You think to scape vdih a pardon, but there is no pardon of earth can ease 
the bleeding conscience. ' Let none kill Cain,' that so every day kills him- 
self As in that great plague on Egypt, ail the waters in their rivers, 
streams, ponds, pools, vessels were changed into blood, Exod. vii. 19, so 
shall it be in the conscience of the murderer. His eyes shall behold no other 
colour but red, as if the air were of a sanguine dye ; his visions in the night 
shall be all blood ; his dreams sprinkling blood on his face ; all his thoughts 
shall flow with blood. If any David scapes the wounds of man's sword to 
his body, or God's to his soul, let him thank the blood of the crucified Jesus,, 
whose wounds must intercede for his, and procure a pardon. This is that 
blood which doth xps/rrova Xa'kuv, ' speak better things,' Heb. xii. 24, and 
stint the ceaseless cry of ' the blood of Abel.' But all this to none but those 
that bleed in soul for those sins. 

Purge the land of this blood, ye magistrates ; for * the land cannot be 
cleansed of the blood that is shed therein, but by the blood of them that 
shed it,' Num. xxxv. 33. 

' They that in spilling blood such pleasure have, 
Let them not go but bleeding to their grave.' 

Purge it, then, lest God in revenge make his arrows ' drunk with blood.' 
Fear not to find them, ye jurors, lest whiles you save a murderer, you ex- 
})ose, object, hazard your own throats to his sword. Hear this also, ye phy- 
sicians ; think it is the life of man is questioned. The epigram comes here 
to my mind : — 

' Furtum non fades; juristae scribitur hssc lex 
Kicc, non occides, pertinet ad medicum ;' — 

' Thou shall not steal, the lawyers' square to right them; 
Thou shalt not kill, is the physician's item.' 

Sell not insufficient drugs, nor pitch so high a price on your ignorance. Let 
it not be true of you that pessimus morbus est medicus, — the worst disease is 
the physician. That emperor (Adrian) found it true, by a mortal experience, 
that (urOa medicnrum interfecit recjan, — physicians killed him. Blood is 
j)roci()U8, let it be preserved. 

[3.] Adultery knows her place : a filthy water, yet in special account at this 
fo;ust. It may well be called a stolen water ; for it robs man of that comfort 
which the sacred hand of heaven hath knit to him ; unravels the bottom of 
that joy which God hath wound up for him ; suborns a spurious seed to in- 
herit his lanls ; damps his livelihood, sets paleness on his cheek, and im- 
p;u4turc8 griff in his heart. It is that special instanoc of wickedness whereby 



PrOV. IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 185 

Solomon here expresseth all the rest. The whorish woman calls the plea- 
sures of a forbidden bed, stolen waters. ■ Woe is to him that is robbed, — I 
mean the bitter woe of a temporal discontent, which is an inseparable con- 
sequent of conjugal affection wronged, — but more woe to the robber, who, 
besides the corporal strokes of heaven's angry hand in this life, shall feel the 
fearful addition of an eternal woe in hell : Heb. xiii. 4, ' Whoremongers and 
adulterers God will judge.' If a present punishment be suspended, the future 
shall never be dispended with. Our firmament hangs too full of these falling 
stars, Jer. xxiiL 10 ; corrupt meteors, wandering planets, that only glinnner 
in the night, when the sun of vigilancy is set. This cursed weed begins to 
grow almost as rank in England as in Italy ; only no authority gives tolera- 
tion to it : they are here aquce siirreptitice, waters of stealth ; but there, 
invitant adaperta vivos male limina spurcos, — the open doors invite their 
entrance, whiles the law doth not only wink but warrant. There is no hope 
to keep out Venus, when Drunkenness, her gentleman-usher, and Dice, her old 
company-keeper, are let in. Many nightingales have sung sad lamentations, 
woe and ruin against these ra})cs and whoredoms ; but the unclean sparrows, 
chirping the voice of lust on the house-tops, are suffered to have nests in the 
roof, when the good nightingale is driven to the woods. 

There are not wanting by report, (and those no beggars,) that justify this, 
and clear it from sin by arguments ; strong wits, and those sublimed ; the 
Avittier, the wickeder. I will give them a double answer, which no distinction 
shall evade. God hath charged, ' Thou .shalt not commit adultery.' Hazard 
thyself to dispute against and enervate God's prohibition, and try if the 
second confute thee not — the black poison of thy own conscience, which is 
set on fire by lust here, and though it have the fire of hell added to it, shall 
never be wasted. The devil was modest when he came to Eve with iVoe- 
cepitne Deus, &c., 'Hath God charged you not to eatf &c.. Gen. iii. 1, 
Now bluntly, Non prcecepit Deus, ' God hath not concluded adultery a sin.' 
Inaudita oracula fundit. Impudence in the highest degree, to give God the 
lie, and except against the absoluteness of his precept. 

I intend brevity in the broaching these stolen waters ; the matter forceth 
me to prolixity against my will. Lust hath many friends in these days ; 
many promoters whereby she insinuates herself to the world- Among all, 
those in print do most mischief; Libri Sijbarilici, as the same-sin-guilty 
]Martial calls them ; books of epicurism and sensuality. Ovid's Amatories 
have bright and trite covers, when the book of God lies in a dusty corner. 
The devil plays with us, as Hippomenes with Atalanta ; seeing us earnest 
in our race to heaven, throws us here and there a golden ball, an idle pam- 
phlet. If Cleanthes open his shop, he shall have customers. Many a tra- 
veller there sets down his .staff, though he pulls off his eyes with Ovid's dole. 
Cur aliquid vidi, cur noxia luminafeci ?* — Why have I so covetously beheld 
these vanities] Faucis de philosophia gustanduin, was the oM charge, — 
Let few drink at the fountain of philosophy ; but we are drunk with that 
which all philosophy condemned. The stationer dares hardly venture such 
cost on a good sermon as for an idle play ; it will not sell so well : wicked 
days the whiles ! Oh that they were all condemned to an Ephesian fire ! 
Acts xix. ; that we might say, as Alcibiades of that Athenian heaj) of burn- 
ing scrolls, Nunquam vidi ignem clariorem, — We never saw a clearer fire. 

[4.] Thievery needs no more than the name to prove it a ' water of stealth.' 
This robs man of his goods, those temporal things whereof God hath made 
him a proprietary : a sin which usurers and moneymongers do bitterly rail 
* Trist. 2. 



jgg THE FATAL BANQUET. [SbRMON XIV. 

at. They that are of no religion, yet plead religion hard against thieves ; 
they can lay the law to them, that have no conscience themselves ; they rob 
a countiy, yet think themselves honest men, and would hang a poor petty- 
robber for forty pence. Let him answer them in the Satire — 
' major, tandem parcas, insane, minori.' 

As no theft can scape condemnation, so yet different degrees shall be pun- 
ished with different torments. Extortion, usury, fraud, injustice, are not less 
thefts because less manifest. Antiochus could make a black horse which he 
had stolen seem white, and a white black ; so these thieves have tricks to 
make ' evil good, and good evil,' Isa. v. 20 ; especially tacente lege, so long 
as the law holds her peace. But as the other escape not the gallows, so one 
day dabit Deus his qiioque funem, — God will give these also condign punish- 
ment. They say that the dung of the blackbird falling on the oak turns into 
slime ; of that slime is made birdlime ; of that birdlime is the bird herself 
snared. So these grand thieves twine a cord of three strings, injury, usury, 
fraud. Covetousness twists them into a rope, the devil makes the noose, and 
of tliis cord they are strangled ; •' A threefold cable is not easily broken.' 
Whiles they steal from others the interest, they rob themselves of the princi- 
pal, their souls. They please the world with their baits, ready money ; but 
there is a hook under the bait : — 

' Munera magna quidem misit, sed misit in hamo; 
Sic piscatorem piscis amare potest.' * 

I have read of an Athenian, such another fisher, that he had in an appari- 
tion a net given him to catch whole cities in ; but for all that, he died a 
beggar. These thieves have such nets to catch whole towns, commons, 
churches, steeples, and all ; but in the end the net breaks, and the fisher 
topples into the deep, whence he never comes out again ; for these swine so 
root into the earth, till they eat themselves into hell. 

I do not spare with connivance the junior thieves, because I bring their 
fathers to the bar first. He that shall with a violent or subtle hand, lion-like or 
fox-like, take away that which God hath made mine, endangers at once his 
body to the world's, his soul to heaven's, sword of justice ; and shall pass 
from a temporal bar to the judgment tribunal of Christ. Let not miscon- 
struction hear me : there are more of these die honest men than of usurers ; 
for one usurer's repentance I will produce you ten executed thieves'. Only 
here it is, the great thieves agree one with another : ' Claw me, and I will 
claw thee ;' wink at mine, and I will not see thy faults. They tune like 
bells, and want but hanging. For these thieves, I might indeed be silent and 
spare my breath to the conversion of more hopeful sinners ; but we must 
free our consciences from the guiltiness of not repro\dng, lest they curse U3 
on their death-beds, as that u.surer made his will, wherein he bequeathed his 
soul to the devil for extorting, his wife for inducing, his deacon for enduring, 
or not reproving. Though every usurer makes account to walk to hell, — 
yet since l)oth hell and heaven be equally set to his choice, why should he 
choose the worst way 1 — let not his minister, for silence, bear him company. 

Well, the thief knows his doom, a double banishment — out of the territories 
of earth, out of the confines of heaven ; therefore, Eph. iv. 28, ' let him 
tliat hath stolen steal no uiore.' Repentance shall be sure of mercy. And 
let not the great tliief think to scape ; as he is a gallimaufry of all sins, so 
he shall have a rendezvous of all punishments. His house is the devil's 
* Alart. Epig. 



TrOV. IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 18^ 

tavern ; the guests have sweet wine, but a sharp reckoning. The devil's fence- 
school ; all the stabbings, woundings, hackings, rackings, wliich torture the 
commomvealth, are tliere experimentally taught. The devil's brothel-house ; 
where the usurer is tlic bawd, and his moneys the harlots : only they differ 
fri.m harlots in their pregnancy and teeming, for they lay, like pigeons, every 
month. Marry, because the devil is landlord, his rent eats out all their gains. 
[5.] Slander is a water in great request ; every guest of the devil is con- 
tinually sipping of tliis viaL It robs man of his good name, which is above 
all riches, Prov. xxii. 1. There be some think to scape this censure ; though 
they speak evils of others, yet true evils ; but Ham is cursed for declaring his 
father's nakedness, though true. Gen. ix. 22-25. These are like vultures, 
ad male olentla fevuntur, — they pass over meadows and flowers to fall upon 
carrions; like flies, they leap over all a man's good parts and virtues to 
light upon his sores. If Noah had not been once drunk, Ham had lost his 
sport. There are many of these Ziphims, 1 Sam. xxiii. 19, that to curry 
favour with Said betray David ; but in my opinion, Doeg's truth, 1 Sam. 
xxii. 19, was worse than Rahab's lie. Josh. ii. 5. A man's good name is 
dear. Plenque famam qui non conscientiam verentur, — Many stand upon 
their credit that neglect their conscience. Vdium est hominum alios viles 
facere, et qui suo merito placere non possunt, placere velle aliorum compara- 
tione, — It is the part of vile men to viUfy others, and to climb up to un- 
merited praise by the stairs of another's disgrace. This is no new dish at 
some novelist's table, to make a man's discredit as sauce to their meat ; they 
will toss you the maligned's reputation, with the rackets of reproach, from 
one to another, and never bandy it away tUl they have supped. If they 
want matter, jealousy is fuel enough ; it is crime enough for a formalist, (so 
they term him,) that he is but suspected guilty. But the matron of the 
cloister would never have sought the nuns in the vault if she had not been 
there herself. It was Publius Clodius's best policy, lest Cicero should accuse 
him justly of sacrilege, to step in first and tell the senate that Tully pro- 
faned all religion in his house. Thus he that hath most corrupt lungs 
soonest complains of the unsavoury breath of others. 

The calumniator is a wretched thief, and robs man of the best thing he 
hath, if it be a true maxim that the efficacy of the agent is in the apt disposi- 
tion of the patient ; whiles thou deprivest man of his credit, thou takest 
from him all power to do good. The slanderer wounds three at one blow : 
uno idu, uno nidu — (1.) The receiver, in poisoning his heart with an un- 
charitable conceit. (2.) The reputation of the slandered : for a man's name 
is like a glass, if it be once cracked it is soon broken ; every briar is ready 
to snatch at the torn garment. (3.) The worst blow lights on his own soul ; 
for the arrow wUl rebound : malediji:it sibi. The slandered scapes best : 
' for God shall bring forth his righteousness as the light,' tfec, Ps. xxxvil 6. 
These are those hogs in a garden, which root up the flowers of a man's 
good parts. But if there were no receiver there would be no thief ; men 
would not so burden themselves with the coals of contumely, if they had no- 
where to unload thenL It were well for Mcphibosheth that Ziba dwelt a 
good way from court. If Saul were deaf, or Doeg dumb, no matter which ; 
for these are two whelps of that litter that must go to hell ; one liath the 
devil in his ear, the other in his tongue. It is a good general rule of St 
Bernard, to govern our tongues by : Sint verba tua vara, vera, ponderosa. : 
yura, contra muUiloquium ; vera, contra faUiloquiiun ; ponderosa, contra 
vaniloquium, — Let thy words be few, true, substantial : many words, false 
words, vain words, become not a Christian's lips. Invectives against other 



188 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XIV. 

men are ever evil, but then worse when they be false. A man may sin even 
in speaking the truth, when just circumstances forbid it ; but he cannot but 
sin in lyin"', and there is no circumstance can clear him. Cor Unguce fosderat 
naturae sandio, veluti in quodam certo connubio ; ergo aim dissonent cor et lo- 
cutio, sermo concipitur in adulterio, — Nature hath knit the heart and the 
tongue together in the bands of marriage ; that which the tongue brings 
forth without (or contrary to) the heart is the birth of adultery. Speak 
then ' the truth from thy heart,' but wrong not thy brother with a needless 
truth. Thus calumnies are stolen waters ! Beware then, you diaboli, accusers 
of your brethren, dogs with arrows in your thighs, that are troubled with 
sore mouths, and cankers in your teeth ; you drink stolen waters, and minister 
them to others also ; both physician and patient shall die for it. 

[6.1 The last vial of this course is Flattery, a water taken out of Nar- 
cissus's well ; whereof when great men drink plentifully, they grow mad in 
their own admiration : and when self-love hath once befooled the brains, the 
devil himself would not wish the train of consequent sins longer. This is a 
terrible enchantment, that robs men with delight ; that counts simplicity a 
silly thing, and will swear a falsehood to please a Felix. This man outruns 
the devil : he is the ' father of lies,' yet we never read that he swore to a lie ; 
for he that swears acknowledgeth the being that he swears by greater than 
himself, which the devil scorns to do. The flatterer, in announcing a lie and 
swearing to it, hath a trick beyond the devil. The superlative titles of these 
men cause others to overvalue themselves. Pride derives her encouragement 
from the flatterer's artificial commendations. Thou art far in debt, and 
fearest arrests ; he that should come and tell thee thou art rich, able to pur- 
chase, swimmest in a full and flowing stream, thou givest no credit to him, 
though he would give too much credit to thee. Thy soul's state is more 
beggarly, broken, bankrupt of grace, and run in arrearages with God, Rev. 
iii. 17 ; yet the flatterer praiseth the riches of thy virtues, and thou believest 
him. It is a fearful and fanatical blindness for a man to carry his eyes in a 
box, like Plutarch's Lamia?, and only look into himself by the eyes of his para- 
.sites ; as if he desired to read the catalogue of his own good parts through 
the" spectacles of flattery, which makes the least letter of a great show, and 
sometimes a cipher to be mistaken for a figure. The sycophant's language is 
a false glass, and represents thy conscience white when thou mayest change 
beauty with the Moor, and lose not by the bargain. Let Herod be as hollow 
as a kecks, and as light as air, yet weighed in his parasites' balance, he shall 
poise with solid virtue, nay, with God himself 

Oh for some golden statute against these Aristophanes' fawners and Hero- 
diau pickthanks, that cry, 'Eu, ev, and Vox Dei, like the churchwardens' bills. 
Omnia bene, everything is as it should be, when ' all the foundations of the 
earth are out of course : ' these Italianate apes, and French parrots, that can 
s[)in themselves silken suits, ex assentando, on the voluble wheels of their 
j)l easing tongues ! Oh tliat we could think, when these beasts play and 
skip above their wont, that there is some tempest a-coming ! The flatterer 
is a delightful cozenage, smooth perjury, rumour's friend, conscience's adver- 
sary, honesty's murderer. He allures to vice unkenned ; colours vice per- 
petrated ; the horriblest sin is but an error in his verdict. He can ' bless 
and curse with one mouth,' James iii. ; laugh and cry with one look ; kiss 
.111(1 betray with the sign, Luke xsM. 48. Bion compares him to a beast ; 
I'lato to a witch ; all to a thief; some to a devil. Plus nocet lingua adula- 
torit quam manus persecutoris* There is no foe to the flatterer. The gram- 
• August in Tsal. Ixvi. 



PrOV, IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 189 

marians fitly, moldle cum fixo ; like the adjective, he varies case and gender 
with his substantive. A chameleon tetigit quoscunque colores, to all colours, 
except red and white, saith Pliny ; red signifying modesty, white innocency. 

• Natio comocda est : rides ? majore cachinno 
Concutitur,' &c. ; — * 

If thou sayest it is hot, he wipes his forehead ; if cold, he quakes of an 
ague. As in the Delphic oracle, Pythia did never prophesy but when she 
was set on a trivet and the wind blew intelligence into her ; so this devil's 
prophet is dumb till you set him on the tripod of ease, credit, gain, and 
stroke him on the head like a spaniel, and then he will lick your hand, and 
fill your ears with the oracles of hell. He is sihi natus, multis notus, omni- 
bus nocuus; mundi nothus, inferni nixus, — He is born to himself, known 
to many, hurtful to all ; the world's bastard, hell's true-born cliild. Patiiur 
dum potitur, — He sutlers much that he may put up somewhat ; when he 
speaks of the absent, he knows no case but the accusative, loves none, from 
his patron, but the dative. Hie laudes numeral, dum ille munerat, — He 
will multiply thy praises, if thou wilt divide to him thy goods. There is a 
monstrous fable in the Alcoran, that the earth is placed upon the sharp end 
of an ox's horn, the weakness whereof is the cause of earthquakes ; but he 
that fixeth his estate on a flatterer's sharp tongue will put an earthquake 
into it, and soon run to ruin. Our chronicles report of Canutus, that when 
his flatterers styled him ruler of sea and land, he commanded his chair of 
estate to be brought to the sea-side ; and when the waves beat on him, he 
cried, ' I command you to return ; ' the sturdy waves, scornful of such a con- 
trol, — as the devils were of the sons of Sceva, Acts xix. 15, ' Jesus we know, 
but who are ye 1 ' God we know, calming floods, quieting the winds, but who 
art thou 1 — beat on him more furiously. Then, Lo, saith Canutus, what a 
goodly god I am ; and behold my command ! convincing his flatterers. Oh 
that some strong west wind would rid our land of these locusts ! Exod. x. 19. 
The third and last sort of vials served in at this course are stolen waters 
which immediately rob ourselves. The devil finds us cheer at our own cost; 
and with cates stolen from our own possessions, he makes us a bounteous feast. 
Truth is, every cup of sin we drink of is a water that, at least indirectly, 
robs ourselves : neither can we feed on atheism, heresy, sacrilege, murder, 
adultery, but we rifle our souls of grace, our consciences of peace; for the 
devil's banquet never makes a man the fatter for his feeding. The guests, 
the more they eat, the more lean and meagre they look : their strength goes 
away with their repast, as if they fed on nothing but sauce ; and all their 
sweet delicates in taste were but fretting in digestion, like vinegar, olives, or 
pulse ; neither doth batten and cherish, becau.se it wants a blessing imto it. 
Only it gets thera a stomach : the more heartily they feed on sin, the 
greater appetite they have to it. Though custom of sin hath brought them 
' past feeling,' Eph. iv. 1 9, and they have long since made a deed of gift of 
themselves into the hands of licentiousness, yet behold in them still an eager 
prosecution of .sin, even with greediness. Though miscliief was the last 
thing they did when they went to bed, nay, the only action of their bed, 
yet ' they rise early, so soon as the morning is light, to practise it,' Micah 
ii. 1. They may be sick of sin's incurable surfeit, yet feel themselves hungry 
stUl ; that the cup of their wickedness may be filled to the brim, and so re- 
ceive a portion and proportion of torment accordingly. Thus as the gyruvayi 
equi, molam trahentes, multum ambulant, parum promovent, — the mUl-turn- 
* J liven. Sat. iii. 



]90 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMONXIV. 

ing horse, conjured into his circle, moves much, but removes little ; or as the 
poet of Ixion, Volvitur Ixio}i,quise sequiturque/ugitgue : so the more these 
guests eat, the more unsatisfied they rise up : Micah vi. 14, 'Ye shall eat, 
and not be satisfied ; ye shall drink, and not be filled ;' as he that dreameth 
of good cheer, but awakes with an hungry soul. All the delights of sin put 
not the least drop of good blood into the veins, nor bless the heart with the 
smallest addition of content. They browse like beasts on these sweet boughs, 
but they look thin after it, as if they had devoured their own bowels. 

[1.] The fir.st vial of this nature is Pride : a stolen water indeed, but de- 
rived from thine own fountain. It may strike God, offend thy brother, but 
it doth immediately rob thyself. The decoration of the body is the devora- 
tion of the substance : the back wears the silver that would do better in the 
purse. Armenta vertuutur in omamenta, — The grounds are unstocked to 
make the back glister. Adam and Eve had coats of beasts' skins, Gen. iii. 
21 ; but now many beasts, flesh, skins, and all, will scarce furnish a prodigal 
younger son of Adam with a suit. And as many sell their tame beasts in 
the country to enrich their wild beasts in the city, so you have others that 
to revel at a Christmas will ravel out their patrimonies. Pride and good 
husbandry are neither kith nor kin ; but Jabal and Jubal are brethren. Gen. 
iv. 20, 21 : Jabal, that dwelt in tents, and tended the herds, had Jubal to 
his brother, who was tlie father of music, to shew that Jabal and Jubal, 
frugality and music, good husbandry and content, are brothers, and dwell 
together. But Pride and Opulence may kiss in the morning, as a married 
couple, but will be divorced before sunset. They whose fathers could sit 
and teU their Michaelmas-hundreds, have brought December on their estates, 
by wearing May on their backs all the year. 

This is the plague and clog of the fashion, that it is never unhampered of 
debts. Pride begins with Habeo, ends with Debeo ; and sometimes makes good 
every syllable gradatim. Debeo, I owe more than I am worth. Bco, I bless 
my creditors ; or rather, bless myself from creditors. Eo, I betake me to my 
heels. Thus England was honoured with them whUes they were gallants ; 
Gerniany or Rome must take them, and keep them, being beggars. Oh 
that men would break their fasts with frugality, that they might never sup 
with want. What folly is it to begin with Plaudite, ' Who doth not mark 
my bravery?' and end with Planglte, 'Good passenger, a penny !' Oh that 
they could from the liigh promontory of their i-ich estates foresee how near 
pride and riot dwell to the Spital-house ! Not but that God alloweth both 
garments for necessity. Gen. iv. 21, and ornaments for comeliness, Esther vi. 
1 1 , according to thy degree ; but such must not wear silks that are not able 
to buy cloth. Many women are iJropter venudatem invenusta\ saith Chry- 
sostom, — s(i fine that they are the worse again. Fashions far-fetched and dear- 
bought fill the eye with content, but empty the purse. Christ's re[)roof to 
the Jews, Luke xi. 47, may fitly be turned on us, 'Why do ye kill the pro- 
phets, and build up their tombs V Why do ye kill your souls with shis, and 
garnish your boLlies with braveries? The maid is finer than the mistress, 
which, St Jerome saith, would make a man laugh, a Christian weep to see. 
Hagar is tricked uj), and Sarah put into rags ; the soul goes every day in 
Ler work-day clothes, unhighted with graces, wldlcs the body keeps perpetual 
holiday in gayness. The house of Saul is set up, the fiesh is graced ; the 
huuse of David is persecuted and kept down, the spirit is neglected. 

I know that pride is never without her own pain, though she will not 
feel it ; be her garments what they will, yet she wdl never be too hot nor 
too cold. There Is no time to pray, read, hear, meditate ; all goes away in 



PrOV. IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET 191 

triminiiig. Tliere is so much rigging about the ship, that, as Ovid wittily, 
pars minivia est ipsa puella sui, — a woman for the most part is the least 
part of herself. Foemina culta nimis, foemina casta minus, — Too gaudy 
bravery argues too slender cha.stity. 'The garment of salvation,' Isa. Ixi. 10, 
is slighted i and the ' long white robe,' liev. vii. 9, of glory scorned ; the Lord 
Jesus Christ, a garment not the worse, but the better for wearing, Horn. xiiL 
14, is thrown by ; and the ridiculous chain of pride, Ps. Ixxiii. G, is put on. 
But ornamentum est quod ornat ; ornat, quod lionestiorem facit, — that alone 
doth beautify which doth beatify or make the soul ha])py ; no ornament 
doth so grace us as that we are gracious. Thus the substance is emptied 
for a show ; and many rob themselves of all they have to put a good suit on 
their backs. 

[2.] The next cup of these stolen waters is Epicurism: a water which 
whiles we sup of, we suck ourselves ; a sin that whiles men commit it, it 
connnits them, either to the highway or the hedges ; and from thence, either 
by a writ or a warrant, an arrest or a mittimus, to the prison. Solomon 
saith, Prov. xxi. 17, ' he shall not be rich.' The gut is a gulf that will easily 
swallow all his comings in. Meat shoidd be, as wise Agur prayed, ' food 
convenient for thee,' or as the Hebrew phrase is, the food of thy allowance. 
This dish is to feed on all dishes that may please the appetite, or rather may 
delight surfeit, for appetite dares not lodge in an epicure's house. This sin 
is instar omnium, like the feast itself, save that the glutton feeds on God's 
good creatures corporally ; but on Satan's mystical board is set nothing but 
what is originally evil, and absolutely baneful. So that here, gluttony, that 
feeds on all dishes, is but a private dish itself, and though perhaps for the 
extent and largeness it takes up the greater room, yet for the number it is 
but one. 

It is most rank idolatiy, says Paul ; and so near to atheism, with a no 
God, that it makes a carnal god, Phil. iii. 19. In mea patria Deus venter : 
as profound and profane as the Babylonians' sacrifice; they to their Bel, 
these to their belly. Perhaps, you will say, they are more kind to them- 
selves ; not a w-hit, for they wrap up death in their full morsels, and swal- 
low it as pills in the pap of delicacy. They overthrow nature with that 
should preserve it, as the earth that is too rank mars the corn. They make 
short work with their estates, and not long with their lives ; as if they knew 
that if they lived long, they must be beggars : therefore at once they make 
haste to spend their hvings, and end their lives. Full suppers, midnight 
revels, morning junkets, give them no time to blow, but add new to their 
indigested surfeits. They are the devil's crammed fowls, like yEsop's hens, 
too fat to lay, to produce the fruits of any goodness. They do not dispen- 
sare, but dissipare Imia Domini — wisely dispense, but blindly scatter the 
gifts of God. They pray not so much for daily bread as for dainty bread ; 
and think God wrongs them, if they may not. Dives-like, ' fare deliciously 
every day.' Sense is their jmrveyor ; appetite their steward. They place 
paradise in their throats, and heaven in their guts. Meantime, the state 
wastes, the soul pines, and though the flesh be puffed and bhjwn up, the 
spirits languish ; they love not to live in a fen, but to have a fen in them. 

It is not plague enough that God ' withal sends leanness into their souls,' 
but their estates sink, their lives fall away ; they spin a web out of their own 
bowels : worse than the uMdiuTiCtpayoi, men-eaters, they are ahrofuyoi, self- 
eaters. They put a pleurisy into their bloods, a tabe and cojisumption into 
their states, an apoplexy into their souls. ' The meat that perislieth not,' 
John vi. 27, is fastidious to their palates ; that they may feed on that which 



■|92 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XIV. 

feeds on them : and so at once devour and be devoured ; drink of a cup that 
drinks up them. 

[;}.] The third vial is Idleness : a filching water too, for it steals away our 
means, both to get goods and to be good. It is a rust to the conscience, a 
thief to the estate. The idle man is the devil's cushion, whereupon he sits 
and takes his ease. He refuseth all works, as either thankless or dangerous. 
Thus charactered, he had rather freeze than fetch wood ; he had rather steal 
than work, and yet rather beg than take pains to steal ; and yet in many 
things rather want than beg. Ignavi sunt fures, saith Melancthon, — slug- 
gards are thieves ; they rob insensibly the commonwealth, most sensibly 
themselves : ' Poverty comes on him as an armed man,' Prov. xxiv. 34. The 
Idiesby* is poverty's prison ; if he live without a calling, poverty hath a 
calling to arrest him. When the cistern of his patrimony is emptied, and 
seems to invite his labour to replenish it, he flatters himself with enough 
still, and looks for supply without pains. Necessity must drive him to any 
work, and what he cannot auferre, he will differre — avoid, he will delay. 

Every get-nothing is a thief, and laziness is a stolen water. If the devil 
can win thee to ply hard this liquor, he knows it will whet thy stomach to 
any vice. Faction, thievery, lust, drunkenness, blood, with many birds of 
this black whig, offer themselves to the idle mind, and strive to prefer their 
service. Would you know, says the poet, how -^gistus became an adijlterer ? 
In promptu causa est ; desidiosus erat, — The cause is easy, the answer ready : 
he was idle. He that might make his estate good by labour, by idleness robs 
it. This is a dangerous water, and full of vile efi"ects ; for when the lazy 
have robbed themselves, they fall aboard and rob others. This is the idle 
man's best end, that as he is a thief and lives a beast, so to die a beggar. 

[4.] The fourth cup is Envy : water of a strange and uncouth taste. There 
is no pleasure in being drunk with this stolen water; for it frets and gnaws 
both in palates and entrails. There is no good reUsh with it, either in taste 
or digestion. Only it is like that acidula aqua that Pliny speaks of, which 
makes a man drunk sooner than wine. Envy keeps a register of injuries ; and 
graves that in marble which Charity writes in the dust, wrong. It cannot 
endure that any should be conferred with it, preferred to it. 



* Nee quemquam jam ferre potest 
Pompeiusve parem ; '— 

Cffisar can brook no greater, Pompey no rival, John Baptist was of another 
spirit : John iii. 29, when he heard that the people had left him to foUow 
Christ, he spake with the voice of content, ' My joy is fulfilled. He must 
increase, and I must decrease.' Invidus non est idoneus auditor,^ — The 
envious man is an incompetent hearer ; his ears are not fit to his head. If 
he hears good of another, he frets that it is good ; if HI, he is discontent that 
he may not judge him for it. If wronged, he cannot stay God's leisure to 
(put him : he is straight either a Saul or an Esau ; by secret ambushes, or 
by open ho.slility, he nuist carve himself a satisfaction. No plaster will heal 
his pricked linger, but his heart-blood that did it ; if he might serve himself, 
he would take unreasonable pennyworths. St Augustine would cool his 
heat. Vis vi/ulicari, Christiane ? — Wilt thou be revenged of thine adver- 
sary, O Cliristian ( Tarry a wliile : 7iondum vindicatus est Chnstus, — thy 
Lonl and Saviour is not yet avenged of his enemies. 

Malice is .so mad, that it will not spare friends to wreak vengeance on foes. 
So Carnot told the powder-traitors, that some innocent might bo destroyed 

• I Buppoa.', a ijIucu for tbu coufiucmcut of idlois and vajjranta.— Ed. f Ariflt. 



VrOV. IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 193 

with many nocciit, if the public good could not otherwise be perfected. His 
instance was, that iu a town besieged, though some friends were there, yet no 
wrong nor offence, at advantage to cut all their throats. Hence, if there had 
been Papists in the rarliameut-house, yet rather than lose so holy a mas- 
sacre, they must have flown up with others. Call you these saints ] Tan- 
tcene aniinis ccelestihus ira; ? It was God's reservation in the Old Testament, 
for accursed Sodom, Gen. xviii. 32, Si decern jusli, — ' If ten righteous persons 
be found there,' &c. It was Christ's suspension in the New, Matt. xiii. 29, 
'Let the .tares alone till harvest, lest the wheat be plucked up withal.' 
Thcodosius was taxed that insonies una cum sontibiis tnicid asset, — that ho had 
slain the good with the guilty, and might not be suffered to enter into tlie 
temple. In the primitive church the bishops stayed process against the 
Priscillian heretics, ne cathoUci cum illis perirent, — lest some good Christians 
shoiUd perish with them. Jehu, intenduig due destruction to the worshippers 
of Baal, made a special search that ' none of the Lord's servants were amongst 
them,' 2 Kings x. 23. But malice is ever blind, to sec what sequel attends 
her courses. The envious man is content to lose one eye of his own, so \\>i 
may put out both his neighbour's ; nay, which is worse, he will lose botli 
his own to put out one of his. The least trespass shall not pass without 
suit. The de\il can send him on a very sliglit errand to Westminster Hall. 
Be the case never so broken, if the la-\Ayers' wit can stitch it together, that it 
may hold to a nisi prius, it is enough. I may, with a little inversion, read 
his destiny from the poet^ — 

' Hunc neu dira venena, nee hosticus auferet ensis. 
Nee laterum dolor, aut tussis, vel tarda podagra ; 
Garrulus hunc quando consumet ; ' — 

Let him not fear domestical poison, nor foreign sword, nor a stitch in his sides, 
nor a cough in his lungs, nor the gout in his joints : Hunc propritcs livor con- 
sumet, — He will fret himself to dust. His pra^cordia are steeped in vinegar. 
Prov. xiv. 30, ' A sound heart is the life of the flesh ; but envy is the rotten- 
ness of the bones.' The drunkard rots his flesh, the malicious his bones ; he 
burns up his blood in the furnace of hatred. 

' Insanit ; cum aliena nequit, sua pectora rodit ; ' — 

' Mad, that his poison will not others kill. 
He drinks it off himself, himself to spill.' 

Envy is thrown like a ball of wild-fire at another's bam ; rebounds and 
fires thine own. The swallow having crossed some lands and seas returns 
next summer to her old chimney ; the arrow of malice shot far off turns 
upon his heart that set it flying. Bless yourselves ; you know not whither 
you will be carried if once you be horsed on the back of the envious man. 
Forbear, then, this water, as thou lovest thy health, blood, life, and peace. 

[5.] The fifth cup is Drunkenness : a vial of the waters of stealth, alitpiid 
food literally taken. For that Avhich ebriety sins withal is wine and strong 
drink. V^ fortihus ad 2)otandum ! — 'Woe to them that are mighty to de- 
vour drink !' Isa. v. 22 ; and strong to carry it away, for their habUity en- 
courageth their more frequent sinning. But drunkenness, as it is a cup of 
this service, is a special water of itself at the devil's banquet. Tliis sin is a 
horrible sclf-tlicft ; God hath passed his word against him : ' The drunkard 
and the glutton shall come unto poverty, and drowsiness shall clothe a man 
with rags,' Prov. xxiii. 21. He that drinks more in a day than he can earn 
in a week, what wHl his gettings come to at the .year's end ? There is no 

VOL. L N 



I(j4 TUE FATAL BANQUET, [SeRMON XI Y. 

remedy ; he must shake hands wdth beggar)^ and welcome it into his com- 
pany. How many, in the compass of our knowledge, have thus robbed 
themselves, and been worse enemies to their own estates than the most mis- 
chievous thieves ! Thieves cannot steal land, unless they be Westminster 
Hall thieves, crafty contenders that eat out a true title with a false evidence ; 
but the drunkard robs himself of liis lauds. Now he dissolves an acre, and 
then an acre, into the pot, till he hath ground all his ground at the malt- 
quern, and run all his patrimony through his throat. Thus he makes him- 
self the living tomb of his forefathers, of his postcrit3\ He needs not trouble 
his sick mind with a will, nor distrust the fidelity of executors. He drowns 
all his substance at the ale-fat, and though he devours much, is the leaner 
every way. Drunkenness is regius mo?-bus, a costly sin. It is like gun- 
powder, many a man is blown up by it. He throws his house so long out 
at windows, till at last his house throws him out at doors. This is the tip- 
pler's progTess: from luxury to beggary; from beggary to thievery; from the 
tavern to Tyburn ; from the alehouse to the gallows. 

[0.] The last vial of these self-stolen waters is Govetousness : a dish of drink 
at this banquet which more come for than for all the rest. The covetous is 
a cruel thief to himself, Avorse than the devil, for the devil would give much 
for a soul. How much would he give for himself '? The covetous man loves 
money better than his own soul. This mercenary soldier is fit for any ofiice 
in the devil's camp. There is no sm so ugly, so hideous, but sent to the 
covetous man's door in a golden vizor, it shall have entertainment. This shi 
is like a great beast, which, violently breaking upon God's freehold, makes 
a gap wide enough for the whole herd to follow. Friiitur mundo, utitur 
Deo, — The covetous posscsseth the world, and makes use of God ; but if a 
man cannot serve ' God and Mammon,' he can much less serve ' Mammon 
and God.' God scorns to be set after the world. He heavens himself on 
earth, and for a Uttle pelf cozens himself of bliss. He steals quiet from his 
own bones, peace from his conscience, grace from his soul. Is not this a thief] 

How much of fame, liberty, peace, conscience, is laid out to purchase gold ! 
Some for love of it would pluck down heaven, and empty it of a Deity ; 
others, to overtake it, run quick to hell. And they that seek it find it ; for 
if a man -will sell heaven for pelf, he shall not fail of his purchase. Hence 
Mammon is the god of no beggars, but the merchants, and gentles, and cor- 
morants, and usurers, and chufis. ' The idols of the heathen were silver and 
gold.' It is but inverting the sentence. Their idols are silver and gold, and 
silver and gold are our idols. 

Many a wretched father plays the thief with himself, and starves his own 
carcase to leave wealth to his babe. He lives on roots that his prodigal 
heir may feed on pheasants ; he keeps the chimney corner that his heir may 
frequent ordinaries ; he drinks water that his heir may drink wine, and that 
to drunkenness. Though he be richer than Dives, he lives like an alchymist. 
Miserable fathers make wretched sons ; none often have more undone them 
than they tliat have done most for them. They make heritages, but God 
makes heirs : the children of such churls seldom roast what their fathers ' took 
in hunting,' Prov. xii. 27. Now, what thief can more spoil another than such 
a man doth himself? He cannot find in his heart to put a good morsel into 
his belly. He dares not eat an egg lest he should lose a chicken. A poor 
bi'ggar is in better estate than a rich miser. He wants many things, but 
this wants all things. Corpus extenuat, ut lucruvi extendat, — He wrinkles 
and contracts his body that he may enlarge and replenish his purse. Ho 
pincheth his carcase to stiUf his cap-case. No marvel if that he hear not 



PrOV. IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 195 

the moans of the poor, when he is deaf to the complaints of his own belly. 
Whereas, Prov. xvi. 26, ' He that laboureth, labonreth for himself, for lus 
mouth craveth it of him.' It is the voice not only of God's Spirit, that so it 
should be, nor of reason only, that so it must be, but even of nature, that so 
it is ; unless in such unreasonable beasts as the covetous, or rather — worse 
than beasts, for the)/ serve the necessity of nature — unnatural wi-etches, dress- 
ing, like cooks, much good meat, and not vouchsafing to lick their own 
fingers. ' There is an evil,' saith Solomon, ' under the sun,' — and such an 
evil that the sun can scarce see a worse, — ' a man to whom God hath given 
riches,' and that so abundantly ' that he wanteth nothing of all that his soul 
can desire, yet God giveth hira not the power to eat thereof, but a stranger 
eatetli it : this is vanity, and an evil disease,' Eccles. vi. 1, 2. A disease it 
is, and fitly called the dropsy. 

Thus the covetous man pines in plenty, like Tantalus, up to the chin in 
water, yet thirsty. He that hath no power to take part of God's blessings, 
which he keepeth, plays the thief finely, and robs himself. His extortion 
hath erst stolen from others, and now he plays rob-tliief, and steals from 
himself. They say the rule of charity should be fetched from home. He 
that is miserable to himself will never be liberal to others ; he that pines 
himself, God bless me from begging at his door ! It is miserable living at 
this man's finding, for, like a chymist, ho turns everything into silver, what 
he should wear and what he should eat, and so robs both back and belly of 
warmth, of sustenance. All to conjure a little money into the circle of his 
purse, which he will do, though he fetch spells from the devil to do it ; 
yet keeps it only to look on, not to use. Nemini bonus, sibi jjessimus, — As 
he is good to none, so, let it be liis plague, he is worst to himself. He is 
ever in debt to his belly ; the purest metal is for his coffer ; the coarsest 
meat is good enough for his stomach. He doth so cross the vanity of pride, 
which esteemeth the dearest things the best, that he thinks nothing sweet 
but what is cheap. If ever he satisfy his complainmg stomach with a good 
morsel, it shall be from his neighbour's trencher. 

He hath not so much idle time as to sleep, but either he dreameth of his 
gold or riseth to see if the doors be fast. So Claudian, amongst others, de- 
scribes the covetous's dream: Et vigil elapsas qucerit avarus opes, — He seeks 
that in his .sleep which he could not find waking. The covetous give better 
ear to the priests of Janus than to the apostles of Jesus. Qucvrenda j)eci(nia 
primum est, — First seek money, hath thrust out Qucerite primum regnum 
Dei, — ' First seek the kingdom of God,' Matt. vi. 33. They will hear us 
willingly, if our text be commodity, and our sermon policy. A bill that con- 
tains the sale of a lordship, or the news of a mortgage, or the offer of good 
security for ten in the hundred, is more heeded than a book on the station- 
er's shop with The Waij to Heaven for the title. Neither let us, as is said, 
judge him only to drink of this water that extorts from others, but even him 
that pincheth himself. So St Augustine, Nan solum avarus est qui rapit 
aliena, sed qui cupide sei-vai sua, — He is not only covetous that raketh from 
others, but he also that taketh from himself The niggard's looks to his en- 
tering guests are like Diana's image in Chios, which frowned with a lowering 
countenance on all that came into the temple, but looked blithe and smiled 
on them that departed. This is he that thinks there are no such angels a.s 
his golden ones ; no such paradise as in his counting-house. He cares not 
to run quick to the devil of an errand, so gain sends him, and pays him for 
his pains. He is a special guest at the devil's board, and never misseth his 
ordinary, which he affects the more because he pays nothing. 



190 THE FATAL BANQUET. ' [SeRMON XIV. 

The more he devours, the hungrier he is ; a full supper of profit gives him 
the more eager appetite to his morrow's breakfast, Mic. ii. 1. All he eats 
is like physic to him ; he looks thinner after it. He takes great pains to go 
to hell ; whither since he will go, he might do it wdth more ease. He hath 
no heaven, neither present nor future ; and having sold bliss for riches, as 
iEsop's dog did the flesh for the shadow, behold he loseth both. Other sin- 
ners, for their damnation, have somewhat which they call delightful : the 
covetous man buys hell with hell ; eternal, with present anguish. Thus he 
robs himself of all content ; and when all is done he is a man undone, and 
' pierced through with many sorrows,' 1 Tim. vi. 10. 

We have now ended the service of the waters with, (1.) The prescription of 
their being, waters ; and, (2.) The description of their natures, stolen. The 
vices which under this smooth name the devil tempts his guests to surfeit 
on, are to your hearing odious. I will step no further to fetch in application 
than from the word stolen. 

AH stolen things are accountable for ; the law of all nations hath provided 
that cuique suum, every man may enjoy his own. God is a just judge, a 
retributor of every man his own. No thief can scape the apprehension of 
his pursuivants, the appearance to his sessions, the penalty of his sentence. 
He hath appointed a general assizes, a day ' wherein he will judge the world in 
righteousness, by that man whom he hath ordained,' &c., Acts xvii. 31. To 
which there is a necessity of appearance : ' For we must all appear before 
the judgment-seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in 
his body,' &c., 2 Cor. v. 10. At which time an account is not avoidable: 
' God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether 
it be good or evil,' Eccles. xii. 14. What, then, will be the success of these 
stolen waters 1 We carry out our robberies now without question ; we in- 
vade our brethren, we evade the law: but behold 'at evening-tide trouble; 
and before the morning he is not. This is the portion of them that spoil 
us, and the lot of them that rob us,' Isa. xvii. 14. 

Felony is the indictment, a rebellion against our Sovereign's crown and 
dignity. i\.mbitious thieves in the court, simoniacal thieves in the church, 
hollow-hearted thieves in the city, oppressing and men-eating thieves in the 
country — all must be summoned, their debts summed, their doom sentenced. 
The impartial conscience from the book of their lives shall give in clear evi- 
dence. There is no retaining of counsel, no bribing for a partial censure, 
no trick of demur, no putting off and suspending the sentence, no evading 
the doom, The cursed generation of thefts are now easily borne, and borne 
out. Subtlety can give them the help of a conveyance, and money purchase 
a connivance. But then, alas ! what shall become of them, and of many 
souls for them 1 What shall become of all the traitors, gory murderers, im- 
j)udent atheists, secret church-robbers, speckled adulterers, rusty sluggards, 
nasty drunkards, and all the defiled wretches that have sucked damnation 
from tlie breasts of black iniquity 1 An impenetrable judge, an impleadable 
indictment, an intolerable anguish shall seize upon them. Mountams of 
sand were lighter, and millions of years shorter, than their torments, Kev. 
vi. IG. 

Oh, think, think of this, ye sons of rapine, that with greediness devour 
Btolen waters : you cannot rob God of his glory, man of his comfort, your- 
selves of your happiness, but God, man, your own souls, shall cry against 
you ! Wiiat tluuulcr can now beat into you a fear of that which then no 
power shall case you of? Why strive we not, Nineveh-like, to make the 
message of our overthrow the overthrow of the message, and so work, that. 



PrOV. IX. 17.] THE FAT.\L IJ.VNQUnT. lOJ 

according to Samson's riddle, 'the destroyer may save us?' Wherefore are 
we -warned, but that we might be armed 1 and made acquainted with hell 
in the speculation, but that we may prevent the horror of it in jtassion ? 
Let lie tell you, ye thieves that sit at Satan's board, there is a thief shall 
steal on you, steal all fi-om you: 2 Pet. iil 10, 'The day of the Lord will 
come as a thief in the night, in the which the heavens shall pass away with 
a graat noise,' etc.; — xXscr^jr, a thief; a^ri roD xXstthv, to take away privily, 
or by stealth; or kto t-oD xaXurmv, of hiding or covering. Fur a furuo, 
quia in obscuro venit, — a thief as well for stealing on us, as for stealing from 
us. He comes m the dark, when nobody sees; treads on wool, that nobody 
hears; watcheth an hour, that nobody knows. 

This thief shall steal on you, perhaps, banqueting at this feast of vanity, as 
the flood came on the old world whiles they ate and drank, and were merry, 
Luke xvii. 27. ' Watch therefore, for you know not what hour your Lord doth 
come,' Alatt. xxiv. 42. So Chrysostom on that place, from our Saviours com- 
parison of the goodman of the house : i\\m hederetur illefurto, si sciret ven- 
turum : vos scitis, paratiores esse debetis,^' — The thief should not hurt him, if 
lie knew of his coming : you know he wiU come, prepare for his welcome. 
We are all householders : our bodies are our houses ; our souls our goods ; 
our senses are the doors and windows ; the locks are faith and prayer. The 
day of our doom wiU come as a thief; let our repentance watch, let it never 
sleep, lest we perish. Si prccscirent homines quando morituri sint, dili- 
gentiani super earn rem ostenderent, — If men foreknew the time of their 
death, they would shew carefulness in their preparation : how much more 
being ignorant ? But, alas ! ignorance covenants with death ; and security 
' puts far away the evil day, and causeth the seat of violence to come near,' 
Amos vi. .3. When the prophets of our Israel threaten judgments, you flatter 
yourselves with the remoteness, — Ezek. xii. 27, ' The vision that he seeth is 
for many days to come, and he prophesieth of the times that are far off,' — 
as if it concerned you not what ruin laid waste the land, so ' peace might be 
in your days.' But, Isa. Ivii. 21, 'There is no peace, saith my God, to the 
wicked.' Our rosebuds are not withered, our dances are not done : sleep, 
conscience; lie still, repentance. Thus, with the sentence of death instant, 
and in a prison of bondage to Satan present, saith St Augustine, maximo 
gaudio debacchamur, — we are drunken, we are frantic with pleasures. There 
may be other, there can be no greater, madness. 

Lo the success of these stolen waters. You hear their nature : time hath 
prevented their sweetness. God of his mercy, that hath given us his word 
to inform our judgment, vouchsafe by his Spirit to reform our consciences,' 
that we may conform our lives to his holy precepts ! For this let us 
pray, &c. 

' What here is good, to God ascribed be. 
What is iufirm belongs of right to me.' 

• Horn. 78. 



THE FATAL BANQUET. 



THE BEEAKIN6-UP OE THE EEAST. 



Stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant. — Peov. IX. 17. 

The custom of sin hath so benumbed the sense of it, and the delighted 
affections brought the conscience so fast asleep in it, that he 'troubles 
Israel,' 1 Kings xviii. 17, who would waken Israel; and his speech is harsh 
barbarism that speaks against the devil's Diana, Acts xix. 34, the idol of 
vice, which many worship. Our understandings think well of heaven ; but 
our affections think better of earth. Alexander, after his great conquests, 
wrote to the Grecian senate, ut se deuni facerent, — that they would accept 
him into the number of their gods. With a resolute consent, they denied it. 
At last a right politician stood up, and told them, that videndum est, nc, dum 
caelum nimis custodirent, terram amitterent, — they should look well to it, lest, 
whiles they were so religious for heaven, they lost their part of earth.* 
Hence they made, though but a perfunctory and fashionable decree, Quoniavi 
Alexander deus esse vult, dens esto, — Since Alexander will be a god, let him be 
one. God commends to us his heavenly graces; Satan, 'his lying vanities,' 
Jonah ii. 8. Our judgments must needs give assent to God; but because his 
precepts go against the grain of our affections, and the devil tells us that 
curiosity for the uncertain joys of heaven will lose us the certain pleasures 
of earth, wc settle upon the Grecian resolution, though more seriously, not 
to be so troubled for our souls as to lose a moment of our carnal delights. 
This is the devil's assertion, in calling stolen waters sweet ; the truth whereof 
I am bold, though a little I disquiet your lusts, to examine. You have heard 
the prescription, rvaters ; the description, stolen. 

(3.) The ascription of the quality, in itself, or effect to others, of these 
waters, if we may believe temptation, is sweet : ' Stolen waters ai'e sweet.'' 
It is the speech of the ' father of lies,' and therefore to carry little credit 
with us. Sweet ! to none but those that are lust-sick ; like them that arc 
troubled with the green sickness, that think chalk, and salt, and rubbish, 
.savoury. It is a strangely-affected soul that can find sweetness in sin. Sin 
is the depravation of goodness. The same that rottenness is in the apple, 
♦ yElian. Var. Hist., lib. ii., cap. 19. 



PkOV. IX. 17.] TIIK FATAL r.ANQUET. 199 

sourness in the wine, putrefaction in the flesh, is sin in the conscience. Can 
that be sweet whicli is the depraving and depriving of all sweetness 1 Let 
any subtlety of the devil declare this riddle. The pre-existent privations were 
deformity, confu.sion, darkness. The position of their opposite perfection.s 
was the expulsion of those foul contraries. Sin comes like l)leak and squalid 
winter, and drives out these fair beauties ; turns the sunshine to blackness, 
calmness to tempests, ripeness to corruption, health to sickness, sweetness to 
bitterness. 

They desperately thrust themselves on the pikes of that threatened woe, 
Lsa. v., that dare say of 'bitter, It is sweet;' and consent to the devil in the 
pleasantness of his cheer, when the impartial conscience knows it is ' gall and 
wormwood,' Jer. ix. 15. Yet such is the strong enchantment whereby Satan 
hath wrought on their affections, that bloodiness, lust, perjury, oppression, 
malice, pride, carry with these guests an opinion of sweetness. If frothy and 
reeling drunkenness, lean and raking covetousness, meagre and blood-wasted 
envy, keen and rankling slander, nasty and ill-shapen idleness, smooth and 
fair-spoken flattery, be comely, what is deformed '? K these be sweet, there 
is no bitterness. But though the devnl be not ' an angel of light,' yet he 
would be like one, 2 Cor. xi. 14. Though he never speaks truth, yet he 
would often speak the colour of truth, Matt. iv. 6. Therefore, let us observe 
what fallacies and deceitful arguments he can produce to make good this 
attribute, and put the probability of sweetness into his stolen waters. For 
the devil would not be thought a dunce ; too weak to hold a position, though 
it be never so absurd. Stolen waters, iniquities, are sweet to the wicked in 
three respects : — [1.] Because they are stolen ; [2.] Because they are cheap ; 
[3.] Because they give deUght and persuaded content to the flesh. 

[1.] Stolen or forbidden. Even in this consists the approbation of their 
sweetness, that they come by stealth, and are compassed by dangerous and 
forbidden pains. Furia 2)lacent, etiam quod furia, — Theft delights, even in 
that it is theft. The fruits of a wicked man's own orchard are not so pleasant- 
tasted as his neighbours' ; neither do they reserve their due sweetness if they 
be freely granted. But as the proverb hath it, Dulcia sunt poma, cum abest 
cicsfos, — Apples are sweet when they are plucked in the gardener's absence. 
Eve liked no apple in the garden so well as the forbidden, Gen. iii. 6. An- 
tiochus scorns venison as base meat if it be not lurched. It is a humour as 
genuine to our afl"ections as moisture is uiscparable to our bloods, that tiki- 
mur ill vdilitm semper, — we run mad after restrained objects. We tread 
those flowers under our disdainful feet, which, mured from us, we would 
break through stone walls to gather. The liberty of things brings them into 
contempt ; neglect and dust-heaps lie on the accessible stairs. Diflaculty is 
a spur to contention ; and there is nothing so base as that which is easy and 
cheap. iSol spedatorem, nisi cum deficit, non habet : nemo observat lunani 
nisi laborantem, — The two great lights of heaven, that rule in their courses 
the day and night, are beholden to no eyes for beholding them so much as 
when they are eclipsed. We admire things less wonderful, because more 
rare. If the sun shoidd rise but once in our age, we would turn Persians, 
and worship it. 

Wines would be less set by, if our own lands were full of vineyards. Those 
things that nature hath hedged from us we long and languish for ; when 
manna itself, because it lies at our doors, is loathed, Virtutem prasentem 
fere in nostris odimus; sublatam ex oculis procul quarimwi invidi. The 
more spreading good things are, the more thought vilo ; and, though against 
that old and true rule, the community shall detract from the commodity. It 



200 THE FATAL BANQUET, "[SeEMON XV. 

is the pervcrscness of our natures, till sanctification hath put a new nature 
into us, that God's yoke, Matt. xi. 30, is too heavy for our shoulders. We 
cannot draw in the gears of obedience. We can travel a whole day after our 
dogs ; but if authority should charge us to measure so many miles, how often 
•would we complain of weariness ! The bird can sit out the day-measuring 
sun, see his rise and fall without irksomeness, whiles she is hatching her eggs; 
if her nest were a cage, with what impatience would she lament so long a 
bondage ! So the usurer, though he began his first bag with the first hour, 
and pulls not off his hands or his eyes till the eye of heaven is ashamed of 
it, and denies further light, he is not weary ; let him sit at church two hours, 
the seat is uneasy, his bones ache, either a cushion to fall asleep with or he 
will be gone : that Christ may justly and fitly continue that his reproof 
upon such, Matt. xxvi. 40, ' Can ye not watch with me one hour V 

Thus the command makes things burdensome, and prohibition desirable. 
The wicked would not so eagerly catch at vanities if God had not said, Nolite 
langere, — Touch them not. Rapine, lust, ebriety, sacrilege, would sit idle for 
want of customers, if God's interdiction had not set a ne ingrediaris on their 
doors : 'Enter not,' Pro v. iv. 14. Rome, I know not how truly, brags — and 
let her boast her sin, Phil. iii. 19 — that she hath the fewer adulterers because 
she sets up the stews. It is reported that Italy did never more abound with 
students than when Julian had shut up the school-doors, and turned learning 
into exile. He had fellows in that empire of so contrary dispositions, that 
some restrained all things, some forbade nothing, and so made their times 
either tyrannous or licentious ; insomuch that it was a busy question in those 
times, whether of those emperors were worse — one that would let every man 
do as he list, and the other that would suffer no man to do as he would. 

It is observed of the Jews, that whiles the oracles of heaven were open, 
and religion leaned on .the shoulders of peace, they fell frequently to idolatry ; 
but with the Babylonian bridle in their mouths, they eagerly pursue it : their 
persecution for it increased their prosecution of it. So the blood of martyrs 
feeds the church; as if from their dead ashes sprung, phcsnix-like, many 
professors. 

If trodden virtue grow so fast, like camomile, how then doth restrained 
vice thrive ! Sure this hydra rather multiplies his heads by the blows of re- 
proof. True it is, that ex malis moribus oriuntur pluri7nre leges, — if men 
were not prone to infinite sins, a more sparing number of laws would serve 
our turns. And the more dangerous the law hath made the passage of in- 
justice, the more frequently, fervently they love to sail after it. What they 
quake to suffer, they tickle to do ; as if their itch could not be cured till the 
law scratch them : so perverse is their disposition, that only coaction must 
force them to good, only correction bind them from evil. Now, as it is 
shame that necessity should draw us to that whereunto our own good should 
lead us, so it is past shame to war for that which God hath charged us to 
ware of Malum est agere quod prohibetur, sed agere quia jyrohibetw pes- 
simum,—'ile tliat doth that which is forbidden is evil ; he that doth it be- 
cause it is forbidden is a devil. But as the honest man, that hath somewhat 
to take to, is in uiost care to come out of debt ; so he that hath neither 
honesty nor lands takes care only to come into debt and to be trusted. 

Thus we all long for restrained things, and dote on difficulties; but look 
with an (jverly scorn and winking neglect on granted faculties. Pharaoh is 
sick of God's plague ; the peacealtle dismission of Israel will cure him : he 
Becg his medicine ; no, he will be sicker yet, Israel shall not go, Exod. vui. 
Oh that these who wrestle with God would think that the more fiercely and 



FrOV. IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET. iOl 

fiorily they assault him, they are sure of the sorer fall ! The harder the earthen 
vessel rusheth upou the brazen, the more it is shivered in pieces. But nothing 
doth give the ungodly such content as that they dangerously pull out of the 
jaws of difficulty. No flowers have so good a smell as the stolen ; no repa.st 
.so .savoury as the cates of theft. 

* Quoe venit ex tuto, minus est accepta voluptas ; ' — 

Facility and liberty only takes off the edge of lust ; and what God doth 
restrain, man pursues. The adulterer cares not for the chaste society of a 
fair and lo\-ing wife, but the lusts of uncleanness, which he steals with hazard 
from another's bed, are sweet in his opinion. Ahab's whole kingdom is de- 
spised ill his thoughts, whiles he is sick of Naboth's vineyard, 1 Kings xxi. 4. 
Hear Esau, Gen. xxv. 32, ' What is my birthright to me, when I cannot taste 
of those red pottage V Oh the crossness of our refractory dispositions, that 
are therefore the more earnestly set upon the pro because God hath more 
clearly charged them with the contra .' as if our natural course was crab-like, 
to go backward ; and our delight was to be a second cross to Christ, whereby 
though we cannot crucify his tiesh, yet we oppose and oppugn his Spirit ; as 
if cynically we affect snarling, or, like the giants, would tiy our strengths with 
Cod. 

Thus we have examined the devU's reason, and find the natures of the 
wicked actually disputing for the truth of his assertion ; and so, interdicta 
placetit, the waters of sin seem sweet, and are more greedily swallowed, be- 
cause they are stolen. The ' prince of the air so rules in the hearts of the 
cliildren of disobedience,' Eph. ii. 2, that their appetites only covet pro- 
hibited meats, and theii- affections languish after discharged objects. But 
' your turning of things upside down shall be esteemed as the potter's clay,' 
Isa. xxix. IG. And, 'those mine enemies, which would not that I should 
reign over them, bring hither, and slay them before me,' Luke xix. 27. God 
hath a hook for Sennacherib, a curb for Saul, a bridle for these horses and 
mules, Ps. xxxii. 9 : the highest mover overrules the s^^^ft motion of these 
inferior spheres, that they cannot fire the world ; but as they deUght to make 
other men's possessions theirs by stealth, so they shall one day be glad if 
they could put off that is theirs upon other men, and shift away the tor- 
ments that shall for ever stick on their flesh and spirits. 

[2.] The second argument of their sweetness is their cheapness. The sins 
of stealth please the wicked because they are cheap ; what a man gets by 
robbery comes without cost. The ungodly would spare their purse, though 
they lay out of their conscience. Farcatur sumptui. They will favour the 
temporal estates, though their eternal pay for it. Judas had rather lose his 
soul than his purse ; and for thirty silverlings he sells his Master to the 
Pharisees, and himself to the devil. Yet when all is done, he might put his 
gains in his eye. It is but their conceit of the cheapness ; they pay dear 
f()r it in the upshot. The devil is no such frauk chapman, to sell Ms wares 
for nothhig. He would not proffer Christ the kingdoms without a price ; he 
mu-st be worshipped for them, Matt. iv. The guests carry not a draught 
from his table, but they must make courtesy to him for it. His worship 
must be thanked at least ; nay, thanks \vill not sei-ve, — affected, obeyed, 
honoured. He is proud still, and stands upon it, beyond measure, to be wor- 
shipped. He will part with an ounce of vanity for a dram of worship ; but 
the worshiiiper had better part with a talent of gold. 

The devil indeed keeps open house ; nodes atqne dies, (fee. He makes the 
world believe that he sells llobin Hood's pennyworths ; that he hath manum 



202 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XV. 

expansam, a prodigal hand, and gives all gratis: but viis et moclis, lie is paid 
for it ; and suck a price tliat the whole world comes short of the value. 
Only he is content to gave day, and to forbear till death ; but then he claps 
up his debtors into everlasting prisonment, and lays a heavy execution on 
them, that even the Spanish Inquisition comes short of it. Thus as the 
king of Sodom said to Abraham, Gen. xiv. 21, Da mihi animus, ' Give me 
the souls,' take the rest to thyself; the prince of darkness is content that 
thou shouldest have riches and pleasures cheap enough ; only give him thy 
soul, and he is satisfied. The devil would have changed his arithmetic with 
Job, and rather have given addition of wealth than subtractioji, if he could 
have so wrought him to blaspheme God. 

Satan seems marvellous frank and kind at first : munera magna quidem 
prcebet, sed pnebet in hamo. They are heneficia viscata, — ensnaring mercies ; 
as the tree is the bird's refuge when she flies from the snare, and lo, there 
she finds bircUime, that tears off her flesh and feathers. Convivia, quai 
putas, insidicB sunt, — They are baits which thou takest for banquets. The 
poor man is going to prison for a small debt : the usurer lends him money, 
and rescues him ; two or three winters after, his fit comes again, and by how 
much a usurer is sharper than a mere creditor, he is shaken with the worse 
ague. That kindness plungeth him into a deeper bondage ; the fir.st was but 
a threaden snare, which he might break, but this is an infrangible chain of 
iron. Men are in want, and necessity is durum telum,, a heavy burden ; 
the devil promiseth supply. Behold, the drunkard shall have wine, the thief 
opportunity, the malicious revenge ; if they be hungry, he hath a banquet 
ready : but, as I have seen empirics give sudden ease to a desperate and in- 
veterate grief, yet either with danger of life, or more violent revocation of 
the sickness ; so theii- misery ere long is doubled, and that which was but 
a stitch in the side is now a shrewd pain at the heart. The stag and the 
horse, saith the fiction, were at variance : the horse, being too weak, desires 
man to help him ; man gets on the horse's back, and cliaseth the stag tisque 
ad fugam, usque ad mortem, — to flight, to death. Thus the horse gets the 
victory, but is at once victor et victns, captain and captive ; for after that he 
could never free his mouth from the bit, his back from the saddle : Ron 
equitem dorso, 7ion frcenum dejndit ore. Man is beset with exigents; he 
waUs his weakness ; the devil steps in -with promises of succour. Judas is 
made rich, Gehazi gets change of suits, Nero is crowned emperor ; but 
withal he gets possession of their affections, w^hence all the power of man 
cannot untenant him. Thus ' the last slavery is worse than the first,' Matt. 
xii. 4.5, and the cheer is not so cheap at sitting down as it is dear at rising up. 

This is the devil's cheapness ; no, ' every good and perfect gift is from 
above,' James i. 17. The devil gives nothing, but ' God gives to all 'jXousiug, 
richly,' or abundantly, 1 Tim. vi. 17, so that when he gives, he takes nothing 
back ; for ' the gifts of the Spirit are dfJATu/j^'sXyira, without repentance,' 
Horn. xi. 29. ' Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters of life, 
and he that hath no money,' Ac, Isa. Iv. 1. God hath waters, no stolen 
waters, but waters of freedom ; and other blessings, if ye love liquid things, 
of answerable nature' greater virtue ; and those whereof he is a true proprie- 
tary : wine and milk— milk to nourish, wine to cherish the heart of man : 
' buy them without money,' let not your poverty keep you back ; here is 
dicapness, if you have a saving desire ; come freely and take your fills. ' The 
gospel is preached to the poor,' Matt. xi. 5. Think not ' to buy the graces 
of (Jod with money,' lest ' you and your money perish,' Acts viii. 20. Only 
take your time, and come whiles God is a-giving; for there is a time when 



I'KOV. IX. 17.] TIIK I'ATAL BANQUET. 203 

the door of bounty is shut. Though he stretch forth hi.s hand of mercy all 
the day, E,oni. x. 21, yet the night comes when he draws it back again. 
They that answer him, proflFering graces, as Daniel to Belshazzar, chap. v. 17, 
' Keep thy rewards to thyself, and give thy gifts to another,' may knock at 
liis gates, and be turned away empty. Now, spare to sjieak, and spare to 
speed. Then, though you cry unto me, I wiU not hear ; ' To-day, then, 
harden not your hearts,' Heb. iii. 7. Pray unto him, and ' he will give good 
things to them that ask him,' Matt. vii. 11. He doth not sell, but give; 
not the shadows, but the substances of goodness. The conclusion then is 
clear: blessings and graces are truly cheap, Ps. Ixxxiv. 11, 'And no good 
tiling will God withhold from them that walk uprightly ;' ' All things shall 
work to their good ' that are good, Rom. viii. 28. The devil gives nothing, 
but sells aU for price ; neither are they good things he gelleth, but jigaras 
boni, the mere forms and counterfeits of goodness. 

But if the cheapness of sin so affect men, what mean they to run to Rome 
for it ? Where I do not say only, that sin and damnation hath a shrewd 
price set upon them, but even bUss and comfort. ; and no pilgrim can get the 
least salve-plaster to heal his wounded conscience, but at an unreasonable 
reckoning. But soft ! It is objected, that Rome is still baited in our ser- 
mons ; and when we seek up and down for matter, as Saul for his asses, we 
light upon the Pope stilL I answer, that I can often pass by his door and 
not call in ; but if he meets me full in the face and affronts me, for good 
manners' sake, non pra^lereo insalutatum, — I must change a word with him. 

The Pope is a great seller of these stolen waters ; yet his chapmen think 
them cheap. He thrusts his spear into the mountains, and sluiceth out whole 
floods ; as it is fabled of J^olus. He usurps that of God, that he can ' span 
the waters in his fist ;' that he hath all the graces of God in his own power, 
and no water can pass besides his mill : as if he could ' call for the waters of 
the sea, and pour them out upon the face of the earth,' Amos v. 8 ; or as 
Job speaketh of behemoth, chap. xl. 23, ' Behold, he drinketh up a river, and 
hasteth not ; and trusteth that he can draw up Jordan into his mouth.' 
As if aU the graces of God were packed up in a bundle, or shut into a box, 
and the Pope only was put in trust to keep the key, and had authority to 
give and deny them. So ^olus, the god of wuids, saith the poet, gave 
Ulysses a mad, wherein aU the winds were bound and wrapped up together, 
except the western wind, which he must needs occupy to carry himself home. 
The Pope brags that all waters are banked up into his fountain, and none 
can drink but by his leave ; except the supremacy, and perfect sanctity ; 
which is the wind and the water he must use himself, thereby to sail to 
heaven, — a haven tliat few Popes arrive at, — but otherwise there is no grace 
to be had but from the mother-church of Rome, whose uncontrollable head is 
the Pope. A miserable engrosser, that would shut up all goodness into his 
own warehouse. Yet when he lists, he will undertake to ' pour floods on 
the solid ground,' Isa. xliv. 3, and ' make rivers run in dry places,' Ps. 
cv, 41. 

He hath a huge pond of purgator}', whereout whole millions drink, and 
are pleased. But as Darius, pursued, drank puddle-water, and said it was 
the best drmk that ever he tasted • so it is the menaced terror, and the false 
alarms that the Jesuits ring in ignorance's ear, that make men drink so 
greedily at the Pope's puddle-wharf. He is a great landlord of these stolen 
waters : 'He sits upon many waters,' P^ev. xvii. 1. Some he steals from the 
Jews, some fi-om the Turk.s, some from the Pagan.s, much from idolatry, all 
from hei-esy. That, as John dc Rupe ScLssa in a jxipular sermon, if every 



204 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeEMON XV. 

bird should fetch her own feathers, you should have a naked Pope. Let 
every river challenge her own waters, you will have a dry Eome. But now — 
' Expatiata runnt per apertos flumina campos ; ' — 

His waters spread over the face of the earth ; neither are they cheap, believe 
but a bird of their own cage: — 

' Temples aud priests are merchandised for pelf, 
Altars, prayers, crowns, nay, heaven aud God himself.* 

* Vendit Alexander cruces, altaria, Christum : 

Vendere jure potest; emerat ille prius.' 

* Rome's sea is sold, to quench the Pope's mad thirst : 
Well might he sell it ; for he bought it first ! ' 

• 
But is the shop never opened but to the mart of so good commodities 1 
Yes, if their penance-parlour was opened, you might find a rate for stolen 
waters : pardon for offences committed, nay, indulgences for future sins, which 
but for an impregnable toleration might not be done. And let the traffickers 
speak from their own feeling how cheap they are. They have a pecuniary 
patronage, and are warranted from the Pope's exchequer rather than his 
chancery. Even that corrupt justice gives such sins no connivance but when 
the dusts of bribery have shut his eyelids. It is their carefulness, qicod 
hujusmodi dispensationes non concedantur pauperibus, — that such dispensa- 
tions be not granted to the poor. 

If this doctrine were true, it was time to rase Christ's speech out of the 
Scriptures, Matt. xix. 23, •■ It is hard for a rich man to enter into heaven ;' 
for it is easy for the rich, that can open the gate with a golden key, and the 
poor are only in danger of exclusion ; and, that which would be most 
strange, hell should be peopled with none but beggars. Not a usurer, not 
an epicure, not a cormorant, not a vicious potentate, should grace the court of 
Satan ; for the Pope will for money seal them a passport for heaven. Nay, 
how doth this disgrace purgatory, when none but beggarly wretches shall be 
in danger of drowning in that whirlpool, whence all their friends, being 
equally poor, have not money enough for their redemption ! These are the 
rotten posts whereon the fabric of Rome stands. Think not these stolen 
waters cheap : your purses must pay for them. Yet happy were you, if no 
higher price was set on them. All is not discharged with your ready money ; 
there is another reckoning : your souls must pay for them. The devil ties 
his customers in the bond of debts, and woe to them that are too far in his 
books ; for if Christ cancel not ' his handwriting against them,' CoL ii. 14, 
he will sue them to an eternal outlawry, and make them pay their souls for 
that they boasted they had so good cheap. 

[3.] The third argument of these waters' sweetness is derived from our 
corrupt affections. Sin pleaseth the flesh, Omne simile nutrit simile. 
Corra[)tion inherent is nourished by the accession of corrupt actions. Judas's 
covetousness is sweetened with unjust gain. Joab is heartened and hardened 
with blood, 1 Kings ii. 5. Theft is fitted to and fatted in the thievish heart 
with obvious booties. Pride is fed with the oflicious compliments of obser- 
vant grooms. Extortion battens in the usurer's affections by the trolling in 
of his moneys. Sacrilege thrives in the church-robber by the pleasing dis- 
tinctions of those sycophant priests, and helped with their not laborious 
profit. Nature is led, is fed with sense. And when the citadel of the heart 
is once won, the turret of tlic uuderstandhig will not long hold out. As the 
.suffuniigations of the oppressed stomach surge up and cause the headache ; or 



PrOV. IX. 17. J THE FATAL BANQUET. 205 

as the thick spumy mists, which vapour up from the dank and foggy eartli, 
do often suffocate the brighter air, and to us more than eclipse the sun ; the 
black and corrupt affections, which ascend out of the nether part of the soul, 
do no less darken and choke the understanding. Neither can the fire of 
grace be kept alive at God's altar, (man's heart,) when the clouds of lust shall 
rain down such showers of impiety on it. Ferit omne Judicfum, cum res 
transit ad affectum, — Farewell the perspicuity of judgment, when the matter 
is put to the partiality of affection. 

Let, then, the taste be judge at this feast, and not the stomach ; lust, and 
not conscience ; and the cates have unquestionable sweetness. He is easily 
credited that speaks what we would have him. 1 Kings xxii. 12, 'Go up 
to Eamoth-gilead and prosper,' was pleasing music in Ahab's ears. Gen. 
iii. 4, ' Ye shall not die,' though you eat, delighted Eve. The Sirens' song is 
more esteemed than the oracle of Pallas, because it is sung to lustful, not 
wise auditors. The strange distinctions which they give in these days, that 
claw the devil, flatter a usurer for gain, are believed, before the sermons of the 
sons of the prophets, of the Son of God. Let a factious novelist maintain the 
justness of impropriations at the church-wronger's table for a meal, his talk is 
held arguments, when the Scripture arguments are held but talk. As Micali, 
chap. ii. 11, .speaks of the prophets, that would preach for drunkenness; so 
these sell their conscience for countenance, and feed men's humours whiles 
they have a humour to feed them. Quod nimis miseri volunt, hoc facile cre- 
dimt* — Though they be prophets for profits, yet they are readily believed. 
So easily the brain drinks poison which the affection ministers. It is not 
then strange if these cates be sweet, when concupiscence tastes them. Fas- 
citur libido conviviis, nutritur deliciis, lino accenditur, ebrietate Jlammatur,f 
— Lust is fed with banquets, nourished with delights, kindled with wine, set 
on fire and flame with drunkenness. 

What could make the religion of Rome so sweet and welcome to many but 
the congruence and pleasingness of it to corrupt nature ? "Whiles nature 
finds ascribed to herself freedom of will, validity of merits, the latitude of 
an ignorant and cursory faith, she runs mad of conceit. That indulgences 
for all sins may be derived from that open exchequer ; that if a man wants 
not money, he needs not lose heaven ; that the bare act of the sacraments 
confers grace without faith ; and the mere transient sign of the cross, who- 
ever makes it, can keep off the devil. O religion sweet to nature ! Nay, to 
speak nearer to our district instance, lust not only affectual, but actual, is 
dispensed wdth. Priests are licensed their concubines, though inhibited 
wives. Adultery is reckoned among their petty sin.s. I have read it quoted 
out of Pope Innocentius the Third of their priests, Mcnie Filium virginis offe- 
runt in choro ; node Jilium veneris agitant in tlioro. The priests do not 
engross all the market of venery to them.selves, yet they do prettily well for 
their allowance. One benefice with one wife is unlawful, but two benefices 
and three whores are toleraljle. But the stew.s, like the common bath, is 
afforded to the laity, and, if their states will maintain it, a private supply 
besides. Urhs est jam tola lupanar, — The whole city is become a mere 
stews. As the prophet Isaiah said once of Jerusalem, chap. i. 21, so we may 
say of Rome, ' The holy city is become a harlot.' Full of harlots, they will 
not stick to yield, and so full of adulterers, Jer. v. 7. Nay, the city itself is 
a harlot, and ' hath left her first love,' Rev. ii. 4. She commits idolatry, 
which is the vilest adulter)', with stocks and stones. 

Thus nature drinks pleasant waters, but they are stolen. Lust cncroacheth 
* Sen. I Ambr. de Pccnit. 



20G THE FATAL BANQUET. [SlCRMON XV. 

upon the law, and concupiscenco's gain is God's loss. Some of them, saith 
Bishop Jewell, have written in defence of tilthincss. What black vice shall 
want some patronage '? But causa patj-ocinio non bona, j^/ejor erit. Powerful 
arguments, no doubt, yet powerful enough to overcome the yielding spirit. 
Strong atiection gives credit to weak reasons. A small temptation serves to 
liis perversioh that temjits himself, and would be glad of a cloak to hide his 
leprosy, though he steal it. How can it then be denied that sins are sweet, 
whiles lust doth take, taste, censure them 1 

The devil's banquet is not yet done ; there is more cheer a-coming. 
The water-service is ended. Now begin cates of another nature ; or, if you 
will, of another form, but the nature is all one : the same method of ser- 
vice, the same manner of junkets. It may be distinguished, as the former, 
into, (1.) A prescription, de quo, bread. (2.) A description, de quanta, bread of 
secrecies. (3.) An ascription, de quali, bread of pleasure. 

(1.) Bread hath a large extent in the Scriptures. Vnlt sufficientiam vitce 
et prcesentis et futurce. Under it is contained a sufficiency of food and 
nourishment — [1.] For the body; [2.] For the soul. Therefore some would 
derive the Latin word, panem, from the Greek word, cT-av, and so make it a 
general and comprehensive word, to signify omne quod nobis necessarium, — ■ 
all things needful, whether to corporal or animal sustenance. 

[1.] Corporal : the fourth petition in that absolute prayer, lessoned to us 
by our Master, implies so much : ' Give us tliis day our daily bread.' Where, 
saith St Augustine, Omnem necessariam corporis exhibitionevi petimus, — We 
beg all necessary sustentation to our temporal life. So, Gen. iii. 19, in 
sudore vultus vesceris pane tuo, — all thy repast shall be derived from thy 
travail. ' Set bread before them,' saith Elisha to the king of Israel, 2 Kings 
vi. 22 ; and ' he made great provision for them,' ver. 23. Job's kindred 
' did eat bread,' Job xlii. 1 1 ; that is, feasted with him. ' He that ate of 
my bread,' saith David, Ps. xli. 9, or did feed on the delicacies of my 
palace. 

[2.] For the soul : ' I am the living bread which came down from heaven : 
if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever,' John vi. 51. It is not 
straitened of this sense. Matt. xv. 26, ' It is not meet to take the children's 
bread, and to throw it to dogs.' Christ and all his benefits are shadowed 
forth by bread. The loss of the word is called by the prophet Amos, chap. 
viiL 11, a ' famine,' or loss of bread. 

Bread, then, implies midtitudinem sahitum, magnitudinem solaminum, 
plenitudinem onuiium bonortim, — much health, great couiforts, fulness of all 
requisite good things. And what t Will Satan brag that he can give all 
these, and that his bread, intensive, is so virtual in its own nature ; and ex- 
tensive, that it shall afford so mu.ch strength of comfort, validity of nutriment, 
and never fail the collation of health to his guests 1 This is in him a hyper- 
bolical, and almost a hyperdiabolical impudence, to make the bread of sin 
equal with the ' bread of life,' and to ascribe unto'it ■potentiam virtutis and 
virtutevi dulcedinis, — that it is bread, and sweet bread, nourishing and well- 
ta.sted. As Cures must be taken and worshipped for the goddess of corn, and 
Bacchus for the god of wine, when they were, at the utmost, but the first 
inventors of grinding the one and pressing the other, — for God is the God of 
both fields and vineyards, — so the devil would seem owner of bread and 
water, when God only is Lord of sea and land, that made and blesseth the 
corn and the rivers. His power containcth all, and his providence continueth 
all that is go(jd unto us. 

Ob:icrve how the devil is God's ape, and strives to match and parallel him, 



PUOV. IX. 17.J THE FATAL BANQUET. 2U7 

both in his words and wonders. He follows him, but, not passibiis cequis, 
with unequal steps. If Christ have his ' waters of life ' at the Lamb's 
wedding-feast, the devil will have his waters too at lust's banquet. If ' the 
Highest give his thunder, hailstones, and coals of fire,' Ps. xviii. 13, (as to 
Elias's .sacrifice,) the red dragon doth the like : Rev. xiii. 13, ' He niaketh 
fire to come down from heaven in the sight of men.' If Moses turn his rod 
to a serpent, the sorcerers do the like ; but yet they fall short, for Moses's rod 
devoured all theirs, Exod. vii. 12. Must Abraham sacrifice his son to the 
God of heaven 1 Gen. xxii. 2. Agamemnon must sacrifice his daughter to 
the prince of darkness. A ram redeems Isaac, a hind Iphigenia. For 
Jehovah's temple at Jeru.salem, there is great Diana's at Ei)hc,sus, Acts xix. 27. 
It is said of the Son of God, that he shall 'give sight to the blind,' Isa. xlii. 7, 
and heal the sicknesses of the people. The son of Jupiter, yEsculapius, shall 
have the like report. Ovid and Hesiod have their chaos, in imitation of 
sacred Moses. Noah's deluge shall be quitted with Deucalion's. For our 
Noah, they have Janus ; for our Samson, a Hercules ; for our Babel-builders, 
they that lay Pelion upon Ossa, giants. If Lot's wife be turned to a pillar, 
lo, Niobe is metamorphosed to a stone. Let God historify his Jonah, Hero- 
dotus will say more of Arion. Of which St Augustine well : We may 
suspect the Greek tale of the one means the Hebrew truth of the other.' * 
Thus, if Christ at his table offer to his saints his own body for bread, blood 
for wine, in a mystical sort ; the devil wUl profier some such thing to his 
guests, bread and waters, waters of stealth, bread of secrecy. He is loath to 
give God the better ; he would not do it in heaven, and therefore was turned 
out ; and do you think he will yet yield it ? No, m spite of God's water of 
crystal, Rev. xxii., peace and glory, he will have Iris waters of Acheron, guilt 
and vanity. But, by Satan's leave, there is a bread that nourisheth not : 
Isa. Iv. 2, ' Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread 1 and 
j'our labour for that which satisfieth not 1 ' It seems, but is not, bread ; and, 
if it be, yet it satisfies not. Say it could, yet, Matt. iv. 4, ' man lives not by 
bread only, but by the word ' and blessing of God. Tec 6-^\y'Mvia, all the de- 
licates that sin can aflford us, are but ai-yus-ia -^vyji;, the bane of the soul : 
Fahnla peccati, pocula lethi. 'O-^ov properly signities Tdc rw rriiii xura- 
(>x.rjaaot/,£vov sg idudrjv, — all meat prepared with fire.t There is no cheer at 
this banquet dressed without fire ; either present of lust, or future of torment. 

Now, since the devil wiU put the form of bread upon his tempting wicked- 
ness, let us examine what kind of bread it is : — 

[1.] The seed is corruption: 'an unclean seed,' Lev. xi. 38. No other, 
than the tares which the enemy sowed, Matt. xiii. 28. God sowed good 
corn, but ' whence are the tares t ' The seed whereof this bread is made is 
not wheat or good corn, but cockle, darnel, tares — dissension, rebellion, lies, 
vanities. The devil is herein a seedsman, but he sows corrupt seed, that in- 
fects and poisons the heart which receives it. 

[2.] The heat of the sun, influence of the air, sap and moisture of the 
ground, that ripens this seed, are temptations. The seed once sown in the 
apt ground of our carnal aifections, is by the heat of Satan's motion soon 
wrought to ripeness. So that it is matured si({f(jerendo, imprimeiido, ten- 
tando, — suggestion, impression, tentation hasten the seed to grass, to a blade, 
to spindling, to a perfect ear, to growth in the heart ; and all suddenly, for 
an ill weed grows apace. Rather than it shall dwindle and be stunted, he 

* De Civit. Dei, lib. i. 

t Eraamus says tliat to oi\fa>via signifies that victual whereby aoldiera were allured 
to fijjLt. Thu captain of the black guard gives bia soldiers thid diet. 



208 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XV. 

will crush the clouds of hell, and rain the showers of his malediction upon it. 
Before he sows, here he waters. 

[3.1 The seed thus ripened is soon cut down by the sickle of his subtlety; 
whose policy to preserve his state Florentine is beyond Machiavers. His 
speed is no less, else he could not so soon put a girdle about the loins of the 
earth. But what poUcy can there be in shortening the growth of sin 1 This 
trick rather enervates his power, weakens his kingdom. The devil doth not 
ever practise this cunning, but then alone when he is put to his sliifts.''' 
For some are so vUe that the devil himself would scarce wish them worse. 
Such are atheists, rob-altars, usurers, traitors, &c. But some living in the 
circumference of the gospel are by man's awe and law restrained from pro- 
fessed abominations. What would you have him now do 1 Sure Satan is 
full of the politics : Dccmonas grammatici didos volunt, quasi Burj/xovag, id 
est, peritos ac rerum scws.t He is a devU for his craft. I call therefore the 
reaping his subtlety ; for he might seem therein to dissolve his kingdom, and 
spoU the height of sin by cutting it down. But the sequel and success 
proves he doth it rather to corroborate the power thereof, by making it fitter 
for application. Thus ' he transforms himself to an angel of light,' 2 Cor. 
xi. 14, and is content to top the proud risings of palpable and outward im- 
pieties, that he may more strongly possess the soul by hypocrisy. Thus 
there may be an expulsion of Satan from the house of the heart quoad 
veterem entj^tionem, when his repossession is made stronger quoad novam cor- 
mptionem. Common grace throws him out, but ' he finds the house empty, 
swept, and garnished,' Matt. xii. 44, — that is, trimmed by hypocrisy,— and 
therefore enters and fortifies with ' seven other spirits more wicked than the 
first.' What he cannot do by notorious rebellion, he performs by dissimula-' 
tion. So that, as sorcerers and witches converse with evil spirits in plausible 
and familiar forms, which in ugly shapes they would abhor; so many 
would not endure him, ut rudis cacodoivion, as a rough and gross devU, in 
manifest outrageous enormities, who yet, as a smooth, sleek, fine, and trans- 
formed devil, give him entertainment. This, then, is his harvest. 

[4.] ]5eing thus reaped and housed, he soon thresheth it out with the flail 
of his strength. He is called ' the strong man,' Luke xi. 22. Where he 
takes possession, he pleads prescription ; he will not out. His power in the 
captivcd conscience scorns limitation. He is not content to have the seed 
lie idle in the heart ; he must thresh it out, cause thee to produce some 
cursed efi'ects. He doth not, to speak for your capacity in the country, 
hoard up his grain ; but with all his might, and the help of all his infernal 
flails, he thresheth it out, and makes it ready for the market. If any Cain 
or Judas be so hasty that he will not stay till it be made bread, — tarry for 
tentation, — but tempt himself, the devil is glad that they save him a labour : 
howsoever, he will have his grain ready ; his suggestion shall not be to seek 
when he should use it. He would be loath that the lustful eye should want 
a harlot, the corrupt ofiicer a bribe, the Papist an image, the usurer a mort- 
gage, the thief a booty. He knows not what guests will come, he will thresh 
it ready. 

[5.] Being threshed out, it must, you know, be ground. Satan hath a 
water-mill of his own ; though founded on viare moHuum, a dead sea, (for all 
sins arc 'dead works,' Hcb. ix. 14,) yet the current and stream that drives it 
runs with swifter violence than the Straits of Gibraltar. The flood of con- 
cupiscence drives it. The mUl consists of two stones, delicice et divitice, — 

• ' Sajpc facit opus, quod non est suuui, ut ita faciat opus tiuod est suum.' — Cijprian. 
fLacunt. luatit., lib. ii., cap. 15. 



rP.OV. IX. 17. ] THE FATAL E.VNQUET. liOO 

jileasure and profit. There is no seed of sin wLirli these two cannot grind 
to powder, and make fit for bread, when concupiscence turns the miU. Rapine, 
sacrilege, murder, treason, have been prepared to a wicked man's use by these 
instruments. Quid non mortalia pectora cogunt? Covetousness and canial 
delight bid any sin welcome. Only pleasure is the nether stone. Idleness 
•would lie still, but covetousness is content to trudge about, glad when any 
sack comes to the mill. These two grind all the devil's grist, and supply 
him with tentations for all the world. All the ugly births of sins, that have 
shewed their monstrous and stigmatic forms to the light, have been derived 
from these parents, carnal pleasure and covetousness. You see how the 
devils grmd. 

[6.] It is ground you hear ; it wants leavening. The leaven is the colour- 
able and fallacious arguments that persuade the sweetness of this bread. 
This is either the ' leaven of the Pharisees,' Luke xiL 1 , or the leaven of the 
Sadducees, or the leaven of the Herodians. The leaven Pharisaical is de- 
scribed by Christ himself to be hypocrisy ; a tradition to ' make clean the 
outside of the cup,' Matt, xxiii. 2-5, but no devotion to keep the inside pure 
from extortion and excess. The ' leaven of the Sadducees ' is the ' doctrine 
of the Sadducees :' as the mistaken apostles (about bread) corrected their own 
errors, .Alatt. xvi. 12. This doctrine was a denial of resurrection, of angel, 
of spirit, Acts xxiii. 8. The Herodian leaven, Mark viii. 1-5, was dissolute 
profaneness, derived from the observation of fox-like Herod. These plead- 
ings for sin, by the devil's mercenary advocates, put, like leaven, a better 
taste into his bread. Tlius it is leavened. 

[7.] It lacks now nothing but baking. Sure, the oven that bakes this 
corrupt bread is our own evil affections, which the devil heats by his tempta- 
tions, and with supply of fuel to their humours. Thus by sin he makes way 
for sin, and prepares one iniquity out of another. He strikes fire at the 
covetous heart of Judas, and so bakes both treason and murder. He hath 
made Absalom's affections so hot by ambition, that incest and parricide is 
easily baked in them. The prophet Hosea speaks the sins of Israel in this 
allegory, chap. vii. 4 : ' They are all adulterers, as an oven heated by the 
baker, who ceaseth from raising after he hath kneaded the dough, until it be 
leavened;' ver. 6, 'They have made ready their heart like an oven, whiles 
they lie in wait : their baker sleepeth all the night ; in the morning it 
burneth as a flaming fire. They are all hot as an oven,' (fee. ; yea, ver. 8, 
Ephraim itself is a ' cake half-baked.' Thus, when our affections are made 
a fiery oven, through the greediness of sin, there is soon drawn out a batch 
of wickedness. 

Thus the devil runs through many occupations before his bread be baked, 
his banquet prepared for his guests. He is a seedsman, a waterer, a reaper, 
a thresher, a miller, a moulder, a baker. A baker here for his bread, a.s 
before a brewer for his waters. And to conclude, a host, that makes the 
wake, invites the guests, and banquets them with their o-vvn damnation. 

(2.) You have heard how this service may be called bread ; and therein the 
subtlety of the devil's prescription. Let us as justly poise the next in the 
balance, and see how it holds weight — secret bread, or the bread of secrecy, 
nay, of secrecies ; for sin is not like the rail that sits alone, but like the 
partridges, which fly by coveys. Secret: this will be found a fraudulent 
dimension ; for 'there is nothing so secret that shall not be made manifest,' 
]\lark iv. 22 ; Luke xii. 2. The speeches of whispering, the acts of the closet, 
shall not scape publishing. The allegory of uncleanness is prosecuted : for- 
bidden lusts, stolen by snatches, and enjoyed in secret, are sweet and ple;^ 
VOL. I. 



210 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XV. 

fc;uit. It is instanced in this particular, but hath a general extent to all the 
parallels, every sister of that cursed stock. I will hold with it thus far, 
that sin loves secrecy ; and I will testify against it a degree further, that no 
sin is so secret as the tempter here affirms it, or the committers imagine it. 
And from these two roots I will produce you a double fruit of instruction. 

Fird, Unjust things love privacy. The adulterer, saith Job, ' loves the 
dark.' Thais draws Paphnutius into the secret and more removed chambers. 
The two wicked elders thus tempt the emblem of chastity : Ostia pomerii 
claiisa sunt, — The gates of the orchard are shut, and nobody sees us.* Hence 
the generation of sins are called 'the works of darkness,' Rom. xiii. 12; 
and reformation of life is compared to our ' decent walking in the day,' ver. 
1 3. Though the light of grace shines, saith the Sun of brightness, yet ' men 
love darkness better, because their deeds are evil,' John iii. 19. Ignorance 
and the night have a fit similitude : — 

[1.] Both seasons are still and hushed : no noise to waken the Sybarites, 
unless the cocks, the ministers, — nuncii Dei et diei, — and their noise is not 
held worth the hearing. Few will believe Christ's cock, though he crows to 
them that the day is broken. 

[2.] Both seasons procure stumbling. The way of our pilgrimage is not 
so even but that we need both light to shew the rubs, and eyes to discern 
them. The gospel is the day, Christ is the light ; faith is the eye that 
apprehends it. Light without eyes, eyes without light, are defective to our 
good. If either be wanting, the stumbling feet endanger the body. In the 
spiritual privation of either gospel or faith, the affections are not able to 
keep upright the conscience. 

[3.] Both are uncomfortable seasons. A^ox et erroris et terroris plenissima, 
— The night is full of wondering, of wandering. Imagine the Egyptians' 
case in that gross and palpable darkness, Exod. x. 23, the longest natural 
night that the book of Cod specifies. A silent, solitary, melancholy, inex- 
tricable season : in which ano-on ovdilg ovB'sv o'Jdivog ; no murmur disquiets 
the air ; no man hears his name ; no birds sing, except the owl and the night- 
raven, which croak only dismal things. 

[4] Both are fit seasons for foul spirits to range in. It hath been fabled 
of night-walking spirits. Let it be false, yet this is true : the devil is the 
'prince of darkness,' Eph. vi. 12 ; his kingdom is a 'kingdom of darkness j' 
and his walks are the walks of darkness. In the caliginous night of super- 
stition and ignorance, he plays Hex, and captivates many a soul to his obedi- 
ence. His children, as it is fit, have the same disposition with their father. 
They are tenebrious, and love nocturnos conventas, — meetings in the dark ; 
as the powder-traitors met in the vault. But the eyes of Jehovah see not 
only things done on the tops of the mountains, but could spy the treason of 
the vault. 

Secondly, And this is the consequent instruction which I woidd the devil's 
blinded guests should know : God sees. 

UavT Efoja, 'juvT um-jh, xai 'javra /Ssa/SHiis/.t 

There is nothing secret to his eye. He sees out sins in the book of eternity, 
before our own hearts conceived them. He sees them in our hearts when 
our mventions have given them form, and our intentions birth. He sees 
their action on the theatre of this earth, quite through the scene of our lives. 
He sees them when his wrathful eye takes notice of them, and his hand is 
lift up to punish them. There is nothing so secret and abstracted from the 
* licferriug to the Apocryplial 8toi7 of Susauua aud the Elders.— Ed, + Orph, 



PrOV. IX. 17.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 211 

senses of men, ut Creatoi'is ant lateat cogitationem, aut effugiat potestatem* 
— that it may either lurk from the eye, or escape from the hand of God. 
Ko master of a family is so well acquainted with every corner of his house, 
or can so readily fetch any casket or box he pleaseth, as the Master of ' the 
whole family in heaven and earth,' Eph. iil 15, knows all the angles and 
vaults of the world. 

' Jupiter est, quodcunque vides, quocunque moveris/ — 

Acts xvii. 28, ' In him we live, move, and have our being.' The villany of 
the cloisters were not unseen to his revenging eye. Perhaps they took a 
recluse life that they might so preclude all su.spicion ; promising to the world 
contemplation, to their own thoughts close wickedness. They thought them- 
selves secure, shadowed from the eye of notice, and fenced from the hand of 
justice. So they were in opinion out of the world ; but in proof the world 
was in them : they were not more iwliti, strict in profession, than jioUuti, 
loose in conversation. But as dark as their vaults were, the all-seeing God 
descried their whoredoms and destroyed their habitations, or at least emptied 
them of so filthy tenants. The obscurity of their cells and dorters, thickness 
of walls, closeness of windows, with the cloak of a strict profession thrown 
over all the rest, could not make their sins dark to the eye of heaven. 

Our impieties are not without witness. Te videt angelus melius, videt 
te bonus, videt et via/is major angelis, Deus.f — The good angel, and the 
bad, aud he that is better than the angels, ' far above all principalities and 
powers,' Heb. i. 4, sees thee. . The just man sets forth his actions to be justified. 
Lucem et athera petit, et teste sole vivit,X — He loves the light, and walks with 
the witness of the sun. It is recorded of Jacob, Gen. xxv. 27, ' He was a 
plain man, dwelling in tents.' Nathanael, by the testimony of the best wit- 
ness, was ' an Israelite indeed, in whom was no guile,' John i. 47. It was 
the Piabbiu's counsel to his scholar : Remember, there is a seeing eye, a 
hearing ear, a book written. Sic vive cum hominihus quasi Deus videat : sic 
loquere Deo quasi homines audiant,^ — So converse A\ith men as if God saw 
thee: so speak to God as if men heard thee. For, non discessit Deus, quando 
recessit, — God is not absent, though thou dost not feel him present. Cor- 
poreal substances are in one j)lace locally and circumscriptively ; incorporeal 
created substances, neither locally nor circumscriptively, but definitively. 
God, the creating substance, is every whit in every place ; not circumscrip- 
tively as the bodies, nor definitively as angels, but repletivcly, (Jovis omnia 
plena,) filling every place by his essence. He is hypostatically in Christ, ■ 
graciously in his saints, gloriously in heaven, powerfully in hell. You see 
then the falsehood of the devil's assertion ; sins would be secret, but they 
are not. 

(."5.) The bread of secrecy being described, I should come, in the third and 
last place, to the ascri})tion, ' It is })leasant.' But because the former adjunct 
of sweetness doth but little diversify from this of pleasure, and I shall have 
just occasion to convince the promised delicacy from the proved misery, and 
for conclusive ajtplication, give me the leave of your patience to examuic the 
truth of the (former) secrecy. 

Application. — It is the devil's policy, though he cannot blind His eyes that 
made the light in heaven and the sight in man, yet he would darken our 
sins with the veil of secrecies from the view of the world. And are they so 1 
No ; the suffering eye sees them, and can point them out ; nay, sensible 

* Augu.st. Civitat., xiii. cap. 10. f Bern, de Convers. ad Cler., oap. 16. 

I Sen. § Sen. Epist. xi. 



212 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XV. 

demonstration speaks them to the ears, and objects them to the sight of man. 
The iniquities of these days are not ashamed to shew their faces, but walk 
the streets without fear of a serjeant. The sins of the city are as pert and 
apart as the sons of the city. I would iniquity was not bolder than honesty ; 
or that innocence might speed no worse than nocence. Absit ut sic, sed nfi- 
nani ut vel sic, saith St Augustine, in the like case ; God forbid it should be 
so bad ; yet I would it were no worse. For the times are so wheeled about 
to their old bias, that vix licet esse bomim, it is scarce safe to be an honest 
man. Suspicion makes the good evil, and flattery makes the evil good ; the 
first in the opinion of others, the last in the opinion of themselves. Our 
faith is small, and led with reason ; our life evil, and led without reason. 
Corniptio morum tollit scientiam ethicam^" — Our evil manners shut up phi- 
losophy, and divinity too, into the cave of ignorance. 

This forest of man and beast, the world, grows from evil to worse ; like 
Nebuchadnezzar's dreamed image, Dan. ii. 32, whose ' head was golden, sil- 
ver arms, brazen thighs, but his feet were of iron and clay.' What Ovid did 
but poetize, experience doth moralise, our manners actually perform. This 
last stage is (as it must be) the worst. Our covetise saith. It is terrea cetas, 
an earthen age ; our oppression, ferrea cetas, an iron age ; our impudence, 
ahenea cetas, a brazen age. Neither aurea nor argentea, saith necessity. For 
the poor may say as the priest, ' SUver and gold have I none,' Acts iii. 6. 
Let me say, our sins have made it worthy to be called inferna octets, a 
hellish age. 

Sin is called by Paul, Eph. iv., 'the old man;' but he is stronger now 
than he was in his infancy, diebus Adami, — in the days of Adam. Most 
men's repentance is in the knee or tongue, but their wickedness in the heart 
and hand. Money mars all ; for this, and the pleasures this may procure, 
Esau sells his birthright, Heb. xii. 16; Judas sells his Master, Matt. xxvi. 15; 
Ahab sells himself to work wickedness, 1 Kings xxi. 25. Sin was wont to 
love privacy, as if she walked in fear. The tippler kept his private ale-bench, 
not the market-place ; the adulterer his chamber, not (with Absalom, 2 Sam. 
x\d.. 22) the house-top ; the thief was for the night, or sequestrate ways ; the 
corrupt lawyer took bribes in his study, not in the open hall ; but now 
fcccata nullas petitura tenebras — our sins scorn the dark. Men are so far 
from being ashamed of their fruitless lives, Rom. vi. 21, that mala comittunt, 
commissa jactant, jactata defendimt, — they commit evil, boast that they 
committed, and defend that they boasted. ' Pride is worn as a chain, and 
cruelty as a garment,' Ps. Ixxiii. 6 ; conspectu omnium — as proud of the 
fashion. They talk of a conscience that seeks covers, like Adam's fig-leaves ; 
but these ' glory in their shame, whose end is damnation,' saith St Paul, Phil, 
iii. 1!). The very harlot comes short of them ; she wipes her lips, and saith 
she hath not sirmed. Better fare those that yet would be accounted honest. 

We may justly parallel these times and our complaints to the prophet 
Isaiah's, chaj). iii. 9, ' The show of their countenance doth witness against 
them ; they declare their sin as Sodom, they hide it not. But woe be to 
their .souls ! for they have rewarded evil to themselves.' So the Jews an- 
swered God, pleading hard to them : ' There is no hope : no ; for I have 
loved strangers, and after them I will go,' Jer. ii. 25. Nay, resolutely they 
discharged God of further pains : ver. 31, 'We are lords, we will no more 
come unto thee.' Therefore Ezekiel denounceth their destruction, chap. xxi. 
24, ' For this cause ye shall be taken with the hand' of judgment, 'because 
your sins arc discovered ; and in all your doings your transgressions do ap- 
• Arist, 



PROV. IX. 17.] TllK FATAL BANCiUET. 213 

pear.' So the same people to the Son, as they had erst to the servants : 
' We will not come unto thee.' ' How often would I have gathered you, 
but you would not!' 'Ye will not come at me, that you might have life,' 
John V. 40. The way is easy ; you shall have life for coming ; it is worth 
your labour ; you can have it nowhere else ; tlien ' come to me.' No ; you 
will not come at me : as Daniel answered Belshazzar, ' Keep thy rewards to 
thyself, and give thy gifts to another,' Dan. v. 17. 

These are sins with lifting up the hand and heel against God : the hand 
in opposition, the heel in contempt. There are two ladders whereby men 
climb into heaven — the godly by their prayers, the wicked by their sins. By 
this latter ladder did Sodom and Nineveh climb. God grant our sins be not 
such climbers, that jtress into the presence-chamber of heaven, and will be 
acquainted with God, though to our confusion. Are our wickednesses done 
in this region and sphere of sin, the earth ; and must they come to heaven 
first ? Must the news be in the court of what is done in the country, before 
the country itself know of it ? Our consciences take no notice of our own 
iniquities ; but they complain in the aucUence-court of heaven, and sue out 
an outlawry against us. So impudent and unblushing is our wickedness, 
that with the prophet we may complain, ' Were they ashamed when they 
had committed abomination 1 nay, they were not at all ashamed ; neither 
could they blush,' Jer. vL 15, viii. 12, (both places in the same words.) Our 
sins keep not low water, the tide of them is ever swelling; they are objects 
to the general eye, and proud that they may be observed. And let me toll 
you, many of the sins I have taxed, as secret and silent as you take them, 
and as hoarsely as they are thought to speak, are no less than thunder to 
heaven, and lightning to men. They do vocally ascend, that would actually, 
if they could. 

The labourer's hire cries in the gripolous landlord's hand, James v. 4. The 
farrows of the encloser cry, complain, nay, weep against him ; for so is the 
Hebrew word, Job xxxi. 38. The vain-glorious builder hath ' the stone 
crying out of the wall against him, and the beam out of the timber answer- 
ing it,' Hab. ii. 11. The blasphemer's 'tumult cries, and is come up hito 
the ears of God,' 2 Kings xix. 28. The oppressor's rage and violence 
reacheth up to heaven, and ' is contmually before me, saith the Lord,' Jer. 
vi. 7. These are crying sins, and have shrill voices in heaven ; neither are 
they submiss and whispering on the earth. 

To be short : most men are either publicans or Pharisees, — cither they 
will do no good, or lose that they do by ostentation. Many act the part of 
a religious man, and play devotion on the world's theatre, that are nothing 
beside the stage ; all for sight ; angels in the highway, devils in the byway ; 
so monstrous out of the church that they shame religion. It was proverbeil 
on Nero, ' It must needs be good that Nero persecutes : ' their wicked lives 
give occasion to the world to invert it on them, ' It must needs be evU that 
such wretches profess.' Others are like publicans. Only thoy were chris- 
tened Avhen they were babes, and could not help it ; but, as angry at that in- 
dignity, they oppose Christ all their lives. 

Take heed, beloved ! hell was not made for nothing. The devil scorns to 
have his court empty : you will not bend, you shall break ; you will not 
serve God, God will serve himself of you. Hoav many stand here guilty of 
some of these sins ! How many may say with iEneas, Ei quorum pars mag- 
na fui, whereof I have a great share ! Many ciy out, 'The days are evil,' 
whiles they help to make them worse. All censure, none amend. If every 
cme would pluck a brand from this iirc, the flame would ^r> out of itself. 



214 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMONXV. 

But whiles we cast in our iniquities as fuel, and l)low it with the bellows of 
disobedience, we make it strong enough to consume us ; yea, and all we 
have. For God will not spare ever ; he is just, and must strike. 

Shall we loosen our hands to impiety, and tie God from vengeance 1 I 
have often read and seen that ' mercy and truth meet together, ' that 
'righteousness and peace kiss one another,' Ps. Ixxxv. 10. But mercy and 
sinfulness keep not the same house ; peace and wdckedness are mere 
strangers. To reconcile these is harder than to make the wolf and lamb live 
together in quiet, Isa. Ivii. 21. Think not that God cannot strike. Mars 
ultor gaJeam quoque perdidit, et res non potuit servare siias* The heathen 
gods could not avenge their own quarrels ; but our God can punish a thou- 
sand ways — fire, plague, war, famine, &c. Alille nocendi artes. Our sins 
may thrive a while, and batten, because they live in a friendly air and apt 
soil ; but in the end they will overthrow both themselves and us. Civi- 
tatis eversio est morum, non murorum, casus,f — A city's overthrow is 
sooner wrought by lewd lives than weak walls. Were the walls of our 
cities as strong-turreted and inexpugnable as the wall that Phocas built 
about his palace, yet it may be really performed on them, as the voice in 
the night told him. Did they reach the clouds, they may be scaled : the 
sin within will mar alL Graviores sunt irdmici mores pravi, quam hostes 
infesti. ^ Our worst enemies are our sins. And though these punishments 
faU not suddenly, yet certainly, if repentance step not between. Adam 
did not die presently on his sin ; yet God's word was true upon him : 
for he became instantly mortal, sure to die, and fell, as it were, into a con- 
sumption that never left him, till it brought him to the grave. God hath 
leaden feet, but iron hands. Take heed, ye feasting robbers : when God 
struck that secret thief Judas, he struck home ; he took away the world 
from him, or rather him from the world, and sent him ' to his own place,' 
Acts i. 25. Feast, revel, riot, covet, engross, extort, hoard, whiles you will. 
Earth is not your house, but your bridge ; you must pass over it, either to 
Canaan or Egypt, heaven or hell ; every man to his own place. 

Grant, dear Father, that we may so run our short pilgrimage on earth, 
that our dwelling-place may be with thy majesty in heaven, through the 
merits and mercies of our Saviour Jesus Christ ! Amen. 

* Juven. Sat. iv. f August. J Ambr. 



THE FATAL BANQUET, 



THE SHOT; OE, THE WOEFUL PRICE WHICH THE WICKED 
PAY FOPt THE FEAST OF VANITY. 



But he knoweth not that the dead are there; and that her guests are in the 
depths of hell.— Froy. IX. 18. 

Satan's guests are unhappily come from the end of a feast to the beginning 
of a fray. As the Sodomites ate and drank till the fire was about their ears, 
so these are jovial and sing care away ; but it seems by the sequel that the 
devil will not be pleased with a song, as the host in the fable ^vith the singing 
guest. He cries out, as the usurer at his spawning hour, ' Give me my 
money.' Arguments are held compliments; persuasions, entreaties, jiromises 
of speedy satisfaction, will do no good on him that hath no good in him : he 
is Like the cuckoo, always in one tune, ' Give me my money.' The debtor 
may entreat, this creditor will not retreat ; he will to war, (you know the 
usurer's war,) except he may have his money. So the great usurer, the. devil, — 
I hope usurers do not scorn the comparison, — when the feast is done, looks for 
a reckoning. The usurer, perhaps, will take .security ; so will the devil. 
Security and deadness of heart will a gi-eat while please him. But when 
Dives hath dined, the devil takes away. Death is his knife, and hell his 
voider. He takes away one dish more than he set down : instead of the re- 
version, the feasters themselves, nay, the feastmaker too ; for Dives is the 
founder and Satan is the confoundcr : the one pro\ddes meat for the belly, 
the other, by God's sufferance, 'destroys them both,' 1 Cor. vi. 13. Satan, 
according to the tricks of some shifting hostess, bids many friends to a feast, 
and then beats them with the spit. Dainty cheer, but a saucy reckoning. 
The feast is vanity, the shot vexation, Eccles. i. Thus tliey that worship 
their belly as god, tensile themselves in hell ; and as ' their end is damna- 
tion,' Phil. iii. 19, so their damnation is without end. ' Therefore shall they 
go captive with the first that go captive, and the banquet of them that 
stretched themselves shall be removed,' Amos vi. 7. 

I would willingly lead you through some suburbs before I bring you to 
the main city of desolation, and shew you the wretched conclusion of tliis 



21 6 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XVL* 

banquet, and confusion of these guests. All which arise from the contermi- 
nate situation, or, if I may so speak, from the respondent opposition of these 
two sermons, Wisdom's and Folly's, — that is, God's and Satans. For this sad 
sequel is, if not a relative, yet a redditive demonstration of their misery ; for 
after the infection of sin follows that infliction of punishment. The turrets 
I would lead you by are built and consist of farewells and welcomes; of some 
things deposed, and some things imposed ; positive and privative circum- 
stances ; valedictions and maledictions : they take their leaves of temporal 
and affected joys, and turn upon eternal and cursed sorrows. I will limit 
these general observations into four. 

QIjs. 1. — All sinful joys are dammed (if not damned) up with a hut. They 
are troubled with a 6^<^plague, like a bee with a sting in her taO. They 
have a worm that crops them, nay, gnaws asunder their very root ; though 
they shoot up more hastily, and spread more spaciously than Jonah's gourd. 
There is great preparation of this banquet, properation to it, participation of 
it ; all is carried with joy and jouisance : there is a corrective hut, a venin- 
tamen spoils all in the upshot ; a little coloquintida, that embitters the 
broth ; a perilous, a pernicious rock, that spUts the ship in the haven. When 
all the prophecies of ill success have been held as Cassandra's riddles, when 
all the contrary winds of afflictions, all the threatened storms of God's wrath, 
could not dishearten the sinner's voyage to these Netherlands, here is a but 
that shii)-wTecks all ; the very mouth of a bottomless pit, not shallower than 
hell itself 

It is observable that Solomon's proverbial says are so many select apho- 
risms, containing, for the most part, a pair of cross and thwart sentences, 
hantUed rather by collation than relation, whose conjunction is disjunctive. 
The proverbs are not joined with an et but an at, with a hut rather than with 
an and. ' Stolen waters are sweet,' &c. ; ' but he knoweth not,' ifec. It 
stands in the midst, like a rudder or oar, to turn the boat another way. 
' Eejoice, O young man,' kc. ; ' but know that for all these things God will 
bring thee to judgment,' &c., Eccles. xi. 9. AU runs smooth, and mclines 
to the bias of our own affections, tiU it lights upon this rub. The Babel of 
iniquity is built up apace, till confusion steps in with a hut. It is like the 
sudden clap of a Serjeant on a gallant's shoulder. He is following his lusts, 
fuU scent and fuU cry ; the arrest strikes him with a hut, and all is a,t a loss. 

As in a fair summer's morning, when the lark hath called up the sun, and 
the sun the husbandman ; when the earth hath opened her shop of perfumes, 
and a pleasant wind fiins coolness through the air ; when every creature is 
rejoiced at the heart, on a sudden the furious winds burst from their prisons, 
the thunder rends the clouds, and makes way for the ligiitning, and the 
.spouts of heaven stream down showers ; a hideous tempest sooner damps all 
the former delight than a man's tongue can well express it. With no less 
content df) these guests of sin pass their life ; they eat to eat, drink to drink, 
often to sleep, always to surfeit ; they carol, dance, spend their jjrcsent joys, 
and promise themselves infallible supply. On a sudden this hut comes like 
an uidookcd-for storm, and turns all into mournhig, and such mourning as 
Jiachel had for her chikh-cn, that will )iot be comforted, because their joys 
are not. 

A wicked man runs licadlong in the night of his unwakcd security after 
his wonted sports, and because he keeps his old path, which never interrupted 
)iim with any obstacle, he nothing doubts but to speed as he had wont ; but 
Ilia enemy hath <liggc<l a pit in his way, and in he topples, even to the depths 
of hell. Thus wicked joys end with wretched sorrows, and as man hath his 



Pro V. IX. 18.] the fatal eanquet. 217 

sic, so God hatli his sed. If we -will have our will in sin, it is fit he should 
have his will in punishing. To this sense, Solomon frequently m his Pro- 
verbs. They will pursue wickedness, but they shall bo plagued. I have 
forbidden usury, adultery, swearing, malice, as unclean meats ; you will feed 
on them; but you shall be punished. There is a reckoning behind, a butt 
they never shot at; but they shot besides the but the whiles. God hath 
prepared them as the miserable marks. Job vii. 20, that shall receive the 
arrows of his vengeance, till they are drunk with blood. They shall suffer 
that in passion which Job spake in apprehension : chap. vi. 4, ' The arrows 
of the Almighty shall be within them, the poison whereof shall drink up 
their spirits; and the terrors of God shall set themselves in array against 
them.' So Moses sung in the person of God against the wicked, Dcut. xxxii. 
42, ' I will make mine arrows drunk with blood, and my sword shall cat 
flesh,' &c. They forget that when God shall ' rebuke them in his wrath, 
and chasten them in his hot displeasure, his arrows shall stick fast in them, 
and his hand shall press them sore,' P.s. xxxviii. 1, 2. This is their sad epi- 
logue, or rather the breaking off their scene in the midst. The bancpict of 
stolen waters and secret bread is pleasant ; but ' the dead are there, and the 
guests be in the depths of hell.' 

Obs. 2. — The devil doth but cozen the wicked wdth his cates : as before 
in the promise of delicacy, so here of perpetuity. He sets the countenance 
of continuance on them, which indeed are more fallible in their certainty 
than flourishable in their bravery. Their banqueting-house is very slippery, 
Ps. Ixxiii. 18 ; and the feast itself a mere dream, ver. 20. Let the guest pre- 
scr\-e but reason, and he shall easily make the collection : that if for the 
present gmidia plus aloes quani mellis habent, to the compound of his joys 
there go more bitter than sweet simples, what will then the end be ? Even 
such a one as at once consumit delicias, consummat miserias, — makes an end 
of their short pleasures, and begins their lasting pains. This my text salutes 
them as the mason was wont to salute the emperor at his coronation, with 
a lapful of stones : — 

' Elige ab his saxii?, ex quo, augu.stissinie Cscsar, 
Ipse tibi tumiilum me fabricare velis ; ' — 

' Choose, great emperor, out of this whole heap, wdiat stone thou best likest 
for thine own sepulchre.' You that crown your days with rosebuds, and 
flatter your hearts with a kingdom over pleasures, think of a low grave for 
your bodies, and a lower room for your souls. If is the subtlety of our corar 
mon enemy to conceal this woe from us so long, that we might see it and feel 
it at once. For if we could but foresee it, we would fear it ; if wc tridy feared 
it, we would use the means not to feel it. 

Our most fortified delights are like the child's castle, done down with a 
fillip : ffx/a, nay, axia; ovup, a shadow, the very dream of a shadow ; a rotten 
post, slightly painted ; a paper tower, which the least pufi' overturns. 

' Cuncta trahit .secum, vertitque volubile tempua ; ' — 

Time whirls about the world, and makes all inferior things to travel and 
spend themselves together with him. Sinful and earthly delight is well 
called amiable, fragile, feeble, a thing soon loved, sooner ended ; but long, 
very long, lamented : a rotten nut, fair, but hollow. Though philosophy 
saith there is no vacuity in rerum nntura, yet divinity .saith there is nothing 
but vacuity in natunv rebus. Nature, as it is not only corrupt of itself, but 
made more foul in the evil man's use, hath nothing in it but vanity ; and 



218 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XVI. 

vanity is notliing, a mere emptiness, a vacuity. Hence, if Aristotle com- 
mends the ' nature of things,' the better philosopher, Solomon, discommends 
the ' things of nature,' especially in their base and bad usage. Only the 
devil's feast-house hath a foir bush at the door, (yet if the wine were good, 
what needs the ivy I) and ' therefore his people turn in thither, and waters 
of a full cup are wrung out to them,' Ps. Ixxiii. 10. But when they are once 
in, they find themselves deceived, for ' the dead are there,' &c. 

Then put no trust in so weak comforts, that will be unto you, as Egypt 
to Israel, a reed, which when you lean upon, it will not only fail you, but 
the splinters shall run into your hand. ' You shall be ashamed of your weak 
confidence. The burden of the beasts of the south : into the land of trouble,' 
&C., Isa. XXX. 5, 6. I am no prog-nosticator ; yet if cosmography affirm 
that we live in a southern climate, and experience testify that we have many 
beasts among us, methinks the words lie as fit for us as if they were pur- 
posely made. How many in our land by loss of conscience are become 
atheists, and by loss of reason, beasts ; who run so fast to this Egjrptian 
feast of wickedness, that he speaks easiest against them that speaks but of 
a burden ! These having found Satan's temptations sweet for the daintiness, 
judging by their own lusts, dare also take his word for the contmuance. But 
if the great table of this earth shall be overthrown, w^hat shall become of the 
dahities that the hand of nature hath set on it 1 To wliich purpose saith 
Jerome, Oh si possemus in talem ascendere speculum, de qua universam ter- 
rain sub nostris pedibus cerneremus, jam tibi ostenderem totius orbis ruinas, 
&c.,* — If it could be granted us to stand on some lofty pinnacle, from which 
we might behold the whole earth under our feet, how easy a persuasion 
would make these earthly pleasures seem vile in our opinion ! You say, 
your pleasures are for number manifold, for truth manifest, for dimension 
great ; grant all, though all be false ; yet they are for time short, for end 
sour. Breve est, quod dilectat : ceternum, quod cruciat, — It is short, that 
pleaseth them ; everlasting, that plagueth them. Pleasure is a channel, and 
death the sea wheremto it runs. Mellifluus ingressus, fellifluus regressus, — 
Yield your joys sweet at the porch, so you grant them bitter at the postern. 
Securus et securis must meet ; wickedness and wretchedness must be made 
acquainted. The lewd man's dinner shall have that rich man's supper, 
Luke xii. 20, ' Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee.' The 
devil then, you see, is a crafty and cheating host, whose performance falls as 
short of his promise as time doth of eternity. Let then the Apostle's caveat, 
Eph. V. G, be the use of tliis observation : ' Let no man deceive you with 
vain words ; for because of these things cometh the wrath of God on the 
children of disobedience.' 

Obs. 3. — The punishments of the wicked are most usually in the like ; 
proper and proportional to their offences. Solomon here opposeth the ' house 
of mouniing' to the 'house of feasting ;' as in express terms, Eccles. vii. 2 : 
for as it is fit in the body that surfeit should be followed with death, so 
those that greedily make themselves sick with sin become justly dead in soul. 
They have affected the works of hell, therefore it is just that hell should ex- 
pect them, and that every one should be granted their own place. Acts i. 25. 
As they would not know what they did till they had done it, so they fitly 
know not the place whither they go till they are in it. Nescit, — ' he knoweth 
not,' &c. For the high places, which their ambition climbed to, ver. 14, 
they are cast down, like Lucifer, to the lowest place, the depth of hell. As 
Simon Magus would fly with arrogance, so he came down with a vengeance, 
* Hicr. lib. ii., Epist. ad Heliod. 



TrOV, IX. 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 210 

and broke liis neck. Sec how fitly they arc requited, * They cat the bread 
of wickedness, and drink the wine of violence,' Prov. iv. 17 ; now they are 
scanted of both, except they will eat the bread of gall, and drink their own 
tears. 

Thus Pharaoh drowns the Hebrew males in a river, Exod. i. 22 ; therefore 
is drowned himself with his army in a sea, Exod. xiv. 28. He had laid in- 
supportable burdens on Israel ; God returns them with full weight, number, 
measure. When Israel had cut otf the thumbs and great toes of Adoni-bezek, 
hear the maimed king confess the equity of this judgment : Judges i. 7, 
' Threescore and ten kings, having their thumbs and great toes cut off, 
gathered their meat under my table : as I have done, so God hath requited 
me.' As proud Bajazet threatened to serve Tamerlane, being conquered, — to 
imprison him in a cage of iron, and carry hhn about the world in triumi)li, — 
so the Scythian having took that bragging Turk, put him to the punishment 
which himself had lessoned ; carrying and carting him through Asia, to be 
scorned of his own people. Thus Haman is hanged on his own gallows, 
Esth. vii. 10. Perillus tries the trick of his owni torment. 

The Pai)ists, that would have fired us in a house, were themselves fired 
out of a house. Gunpowder spoiled some of their eyes, musket shot killed 
others, the engines of their own conspiracy ; and the rest were advanced 
higher by the head than the Parliament-house, that would have lifted us 
higher, of purpose to give us the more mortal faU. God hath retaliated 
their works into their own bosoms. ' They travailed -with, iniquity, conceived 
mischief ; ' and, lo, the birth is their own sorrow. ' They have digged a pit 
for us,' — and that low, unto hell, — ' and are fallen into it themselves,' 
Ps. vii. U, 15. 

' Nee enim lex scquior uUa est 
Quam necis artifices, arte perire sua ; ' — 

No juster law can be devised or made, 

Than that sin's agents fall by their own trade.* 

The order of hell proceeds with the same degrees ; though it give a greater 
portion, yet still a just proportion of torment. These wretched guests were 
too busy with the waters of sin ; behold, now they are in the depth of a pit, 
' where no water is.' Dives, that wasted so many tuns of wine, cannot now 
procure water, not a pot of water, not a handful of water, not a drop of 
water, to cool his tongue. JDesideravit guttam, qui non dedit viicam* A 
just recompen.se ! He would not give a crumb ; he shall not have a drop.- 
Bread hath no smaller fragment than a crumb, water no less fraction than a 
drop. As he denied the least comfort to Lazarus living, so Lazarus shall not 
bring him the least comfort dead. Thus the pain for sin answers the plea- 
sure of sin. Where now are those delicate morsels, deep carouses, loose 
laughters, proud port, midnight revels, wanton songs 1 Why begins not this 
fellow-guest with a new health, or the music of some ravishing note ? or, if 
all fail, hath his fool-knavish para.site no obscene jest that may give him de- 
light ? Alas ! hell is too melancholy a place for mirth. All the music is 
round-echoing groans ; all the water is muddy with stench ; all the food 
angui-sh ! 

Thus damnable sins shall have semblable punishments ; and as Augustine 

of the tongue, so we may say of any member : Si non reddet Deo facioido 

quce debet, reddet ei }xdiendo quce debet, — If it will not serve God in action, 

it shall serve him in passion. Where voluntary obedience is denied, in- 

* Aug. Horn. 7. 



220 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XVL 

voluntary angiiisli shall be suffered. Kaow this, thou swearer, that as thy 
tongue spitsabroad the flames of hell, so the flames of hell shall be poured 
on thy tongue. As the drunkard will not now keep the cup of satiety from 
Lis mouth, so God shall one day hold the cup of vengeance to it, and he 
shall drhik the dregs thereof. As the usurers are tormentors of the common- 
wealth on earth, so they shall meet with tormentors in hell, that shall 
transcend them both in malice and subtlety, and load them with bonds and 
executions, and (which is strangely possible) heavier than those they have so 
long traded in. The church-robber, encloser, engrosser, shall find worse 
prowling and pilling in hell than themselves used on earth ; and as they have 
been the worst devils to their country's wealth, so the worst of devils shall 
attend them. The unclean adulterer shall have fire added to his fire. And 
the covetous wretch, that never spake but in the horse-leech's language, and 
carried a mouth more yawning than the grave's, is now quitted with his nun- 
quani satis, and finds enough of fire ' in the depths of hell.' 

Obs. 4. — The devil hath feasted the wicked, and now the wicked feast the 
devil, and that with a very chargeable banquet. For the devil is a dainty 
prince, and more curious in his diet than Vitellius, He feeds, like the can- 
nibal, on no flesh but man's flesh. He loves no venison but the heart, no 
fowl but the breast, no fish but the soul. As the ' ungodly have eaten up 
God's people as bread,' Ps. xiv. 4, so themselves shall be eaten as bread : 
it is just that they be devoured by others that have devoured others. As 
they have been lions to crash the bones of the poor, so a lion shall crash 
their bones ; they are Satan's feast, he shall ' devour them,' 1 Pet. v. 8. 
Thus they that were the guests are now the banquet : as they have been 
feasted with evils, so they feast the devils. 

Make a little room in your hearts, ye fearless and desperate wretches, for 
this meditation. Behold, now, as in a speculative glass, the devil's hospi- 
tality. Once be wise ; believe without trial, without feeling. Yield but to 
be 'ashamed of your sins,' Rom. vi. 21, and then I can, with comfort, ask 
you ' what fruit they ever brought you.' Let me but appeal from Philip 
of Macedon when he is drunk, to Philip of Macedon when he is sober, — from 
your" bewitched lusts to your waked consciences, — and you must needs say, 
that hrevis hcec, non vera voluptas. All ' the works of darkness are unfruit- 
ful,' Eph. V. 11, except in producing and i)rocuring 'utter darkness,' Matt. 
viii. 13. Sin is the devil's earnest-penny on earth; in hell he gives the in- 
heritance. Temptation is his press-money : by rebellion, oppression, usury, 
blasphemy, the wicked, lil^e faithful soldiers, fight his battles. When the 
field is won, or rather lost, (for if he conquers, they are the spoil,) in the 
depth of hell he gives them pay. Who, then, would march under his colours, 
who, though he promise kingdoms. Matt. iv. 9, cannot perform a hog 1 Matt. 
viiL 31. Alas, poor beggar ! he hath nothing of his own but sin, and death, 
and hell,. and torment. Nihil ad effedum, ad defectum satis, — No positive 
good, enough privative evil. 

J']ven those tliat pass their souls to him by a real covenant, he cannot en- 
rich : they live and die most peimrious beggars, as they do pernicious villains. 
And they upon whom God sufi'ers him to throw the riches of this world, as 
a snare over their hearts, which he cannot do but at second-hand, have not 
enough to keep either their heads from aching or their consciences from de- 
spairing. Thus, though God permit them, to help ' the rich man to fill his 
hani.s,' Luke xii., the u.surcr to .swell his coflTers, the luxurious to poison his 
blood, the malicious to ^iiaw his bowels, the sacrilegious to amplify his re- 
venues, the ambitious to advance credit ; yet there is neither will in God, nor 



PeOV. IX. 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 221 

willingness in the devil, that any of these should be a blessing unto them. 
All is but borrowed ware, and the customers shall pay for day : the longer 
they abuse them, the larger arrearages they must return. Only here I may 
say, that bona sunt quce dona sunt, — they are goods that are gifts. God. 
gives his graces freely, the devil his junkets falsely ; for the guests must i)ay,' 
and that dearly, when the least item in the bill, for pains, is beyond tho 
greatest dish of the feast, for pleasures. 

Solomon's sermon spends itself upon two circumstances : — 

I. The persons. 

II. The place. 

I. The persons are — 

1. The tempter; she, a right harlot, as appears — (1.) By her prostitution; 
(2.) By her prodition ; (.3.) By her perdition. 

2. The tempted; the dead. All death, whether, (1.) corporal, (2.) spi- 
ritual, or, (3.) eternal, is from sin. 

3. The attempted; he knoweth not. Whose ignorance is either — (I.) 
natural ; (2.) invincible ; (3.) aifected ; or, (4.) arrogant. 

II. The place. Where their misery is amplified, 1. In part personally ; ;5er 
injirmitatem, by their weakness to resist; soon in. 2. In part locally — (1.) Per 
infernitatem, in hell ; (2.) Per profunditatein, in the depth of hell. 

I. 1. Tho person tempting, or the harlot, is vice ; ugly and deformed vice : 
that with glazed eyes, sulphured cheeks, pied garments, and a Siren's tongue, 
wins easy respect and admiration. When the heat of tentation shall glow 
upon concupiscence, the heart quickly melts. Tlie wisest, Solomon, was taken 
and snared by a woman ; which foul adultery bred as foul an issue, or rather 
2)rogeniem vitiosiorem, a worse, idolatry. Satan therefore shapes his temp- 
tation in the lineaments of a harlot, as most fit and powerfid to work upon 
man's aflfections. Certain it is that all delighted vice is a spiritual adultery. 

The covetous man couples his heart to his gold ; the gallant is inconti- 
nent with his pride ; the corrupt oflicer fornicates with bribery ; the usurer 
sets continual kisses on the cheek of his security. The heart is set where 
the hate should be ; and every such sinner spends his spirits to breed and 
see the issue of his desu'es. Sin, then, is the devil's harlot, which being 
tricked up in tempting colours, draws in visitants, 2)ra^mittendo suavia, pro- 
mittendo perpetua, — ^giving the kisses of pleasure, and promising them per- 
petual. We may observe in this strumpet — 

(1.) Prostitution. Prov. vii. 13, 'So she caught him, and kissed him, and 
with an impudent face said unto him,' &c. Shame now-a-days begins t-o 
grow so stale, that many vices shall vie in impudent speeches and gestures 
with the harlot. ' Come, let us take our fill of love,' ver. 18 ; as Potiphar's 
wife to Joseph, wthout any preparatory circumlocutions or insinuations, 
' Come, lie with me.' Sin never stands to untie the knot of God's interdic- 
tion, but bluntly breaks it ; as the devil at first to the roots of mankind, 
Gen. iii., ' Ye shall not die.' The usurer never loseth so much time as to 
satisfy his conscience ; it is enough to satisfy his concupiscence. A good 
mortgage lies sick of a forfeit, and at the usurer's mercy. It is as surely 
damned as the extortioner will be when he lies at the mercy of the devil. 
These are so far from that old quaere of Christians, Quid faciemus / — What 
shall we do 1 that they will not admit the novel question of these toyt- 
headed times, What shall we think ? They will not give the conscience leave, 
after a tedious and importunate solicitation, to study of the matter ; but are 
more injurious and obdurate to their own souls than that unjust judge to 
the widow. 



21»^ THE FATAL BANQUET. [SiiJ'lMON XYI. 

A cheat is oflfered to a tradesman, an enclosure to a landlord, an under- 
hand fee clapped in the left hand of a magistrate ; if they be evil, and cor- 
ruption hath lirst marshalled the way, the field is won. They never treat 
with sin for truce, or pause on an answer, but presently yield the fort of their 
'conscience. No wonder, then, if the devil's harlot be so bold, when she is so 
sure of welcome. It is our weakness that gives 8atan encouragement ; if 
we did resist,* he would desist. Our weak repulses hearten and provoke his 
fiercer assaults. He would not shew the worldling his apparent horns, if 
he did not presume of his covetous desire to be horsed on the back of Mam- 
mon, and hurried to hell. Hence sin is so bold as to say ' in the wicked 
heart,' Non est Deus, — ' There is no God,' Ps. xiv. 1 ; and so peremptorily to 
conclude to itself, Ps. x. 6, 'I shall not be moved ; for I shall never be in ad- 
versity.' Hence, Ps. xlix. 11,' Even their inward thought is, that their houses 
shall continue for ever,' &c. This is presumptuous and whorish prostitution, 
to set out iniquity barefaced, without the mask of pretexts to hide her ugly 
visage : an impetuous, a meretricious impudence, that not with a feminine 
ra|)ture, but rather with a masculine rape, captives the conscience. You see 
folly's prostitution. 

(2.) Prodltion is the rankling tooth that follows her ravishing kisses. 
Judas kissed his Master with the same heart. Iniquity hath an infectious 
breath, if a fair countenance. All her delights are like fair and sweet flowers, 
but full of serpents. The vanquished concludes with a groan — 

' Sic violor, violis, oh violenta, tuis ; ' — 

Thy soft flowers have stung me to death. For indeed it. is most true, Nemo 
tpsitm pecccUum amat, sed male amando illud quod amat, illaqueatur peccato* 
— No man loves sin for its own sake ; but by an irregular and sinister love 
to that he doth love, he is snared with sin. The devil knows that his Ephe- 
sian harlot, vice, would want worshippers, if treason and death were written 
upon the temple door ; therefore health and content are proclaimed, and as 
on the theatre presented ; but there is hell under the stage, there is treason 
in the -vault. 

Thus temptation misleads the navigators with a pirate's light ; deceives 
the living fowls with a dead bird : a )Siren, a Judas, a Jebusite, a Jesuit. 
For were the Jesuit to play the devil, or the devil the Jesuit, on the stage of 
this world, it would be hard to judge which was the Jesuit, which the devil, 
or which played the part most naturally. As iniquities are Satan's harlots 
to corrupt the affections, so Jesuits are his engines to pervert the brains ; for 
if the new guest here be heart-sick, so their proselyte is brain-sick. Both 
are made so dissolute, till they become desolate, robbed, and destitute of all 
comfort. 

Sin deals with her guests as that bloody prince, that having invited many 
great states to a solemn feast, flattered and singled them one by one, and 
cut oS all their heads. As fatal a success attends on the flatteries of sin. 
Oh, then, fufje exnlcemtncem hanc,—tiy this harlot, that carries death about 
her. Go aloof from her door, as, they say, the devil doth by the cross ; but 
(lest that savour of supposition, nay, of superstition) do thou in sincere devo- 
tion fly from sui, (jiiasi u facie colubri,—as from a serpent. She hath a 
Siren's voice, mermaid's face, a Helen's beauty to tempt thee ; but a leper's 
touch, a serpent's sting, a traitorous hand to wound thee. The best way to 
conquer sin is by Parthian war, to run away. So the poet — 

* August. 



PEOV, IX. 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 223 

' Sed fuge ; tutus adhuc Parthus ab hoste f uga est.' 

Tunc peccata fugantur, cum fufjiantur,—\NQ then put sin to a forced flight, 
when it puts us to a voluntary flight. That poetical amoris artifex et viedi- 
(us so counsels : Fuge conscia vestri concuhitus, tkc. But beyond all excep- 
tion, the holy Apostle gives the charge, ' Flee fornication.' Shun the place, 
suspect the appearance of evil You see her prodition. 

(3.) Her perdition follows. She undoes a man ; not so much in estate 
of his carcase, as of his conscience. The gniest is not so much damnified in 
respect of his goods, as damned in respect o^s grace. Every man is not 
undone that is beggared ; many, like Job, Mnime jjermnt, cum maxima 
perire vide niur,— are indeed least undone, when they seem most undone. 
Nay, some may say with the philosopher, Periemm, nisi periissem,—U 1 had 
not sustained loss, I had been lo.st. So David's great trouble made him a 
good man ; Naaman's leprous flesh brought him a white and clean spirit. 
But the perdition that vice brings is not so visible as it is miserable. The 
sequel of the text will amplify this ; only now I apply it to the harlot. The 
harlot destroys a man many ways : — 

[1.] In his goods. It is a costly sin. Tamar would not yield to Judah 
without a hire. The hire makes the whore. 

' Stat meretrix certo quovis mercabilis sere, 
Et misera.s jusso corpore quaerit opes; ' — 

' Compared with harlots, the worst beast is good : 
No beasts, but they, will sell their flesh and blood.' 

The old proverb conjoins venery and beggary. The prodigal returned not 
from his harlot without an empty purse. Sin doth no less undo a man's 
estate. It is a purgatory to his patrimony. It is objected : it rather heliis 
him to riches, and swells his purse. Doth not a bribed hand, a sycophant 
tongue, a covetous and griping palm, make men wealthy ? Yield wealthy, 
not rich. He is rich that possesseth what he got justly, and useth what he 
possesseth conscionably. Other wealthy men are not unlike either the Capu- 
chins or the Seculars. Some, like the former, profess beggary, though they 
possess the Indies ; these had rather fill their eye than their belly, a'lid will 
not break a sum though they endanger their healths. The other sort are 
like the Seculars, that will fare well, though ^\ith a hard farewell. But as 
the harlot, so often vice ' brings a man to a morsel of bread,' Prov. vi. 26. 
Thus tibijit damno, vitio lucrosa voluptas, — pleasure is no less than a loss to 
thee, than a gain to sin. It is not amiss to answer Satan's inviters to this- 
feast, as the vicious poet his cockatrice — 

' Cur sim mutatus quajris ? quia munera poscis. 
Hajc te non patitur causa placere mihi ; ' — 

It is even one reason to, dissuade us from sin, that it is costly. 

^ [2.] In his good name. No worldly undoing is like this shipwreck. 
Goods may be redeemed, but this se7>iel amissa, jyostea null us eris, once 
utterly lost, thou art nobody. It is hard to recover the set, when a man is 
put to the after-game for his credit. Though many a man's reputation be 
but hypeuemium ovum, a rotten egg, whiles he is a great dealer with other 
men's goods, and of himself no better than a beggar ; and though the most 
famous are but astmatici, short-breathed men, and their reputation no better 
than Ephraim's righteousness, but ' a morning dew ;' yet actum est de homine, 
cum actum est de nowtne,— when a man's good name is done, himself is un- 
done. 



224 THE FATAL BAXQFF.T. [SeRJION XVI. 

A man intleed may lose Lis good name AvitLout cause, and be at once 
accused and abased, when slanders against liim are maliciously raised and 
oasiiy accei^ted ; but ' God shall bring forth his righteousness as the light, 
and his judgment as the noon-day,' Ps. xxxvii. G. Contrarily, another man 
hides the ulcers of his sore conscience with the plasters of sound repute. 
But to be puffed up with the wrongful estimation of ourselves, by the flatter- 
inc breath of others' blown praises, is a ridiculous pride. Scepe Jlagellatur 
incorde prop)-io, qui laudatur in ore alieno, — Many that are commended in 
others' mouths are justly aubdued in their own conscience. Such a one 
cozens his neighbours, thcy^e another, and all himself. And as originally 
the deceit came from him, so eventually the shame will end in him. Hence 
they whose fames have been carried furthest on the wings of report, have 
been after, by the manifestation of their wickedness, more dead in men's 
thoughts than in their own carcase ; for ' the name of the wicked shall rot,' 
Prov. X. 7. 

This is the mischief which sin in general, as whoredom in particular, 
works to the name : a rotten reputation, an infamous fame, a reproach for 
a report; that their silent memories are never conjured up from the grave of 
oblivion, but, as the 'son's of Nebat,' for their own disgrace, and to deter 
men from the imitation of their wickedness. It were well for them, if Time, 
which unnaturally devours his own brood, could as well still their mention 
as it hath stayed their motion ; or that their memorial might not survive their 
funeral. Now, though it be no evident demonstration, yet it is a very 
ominous and susjjicious thing to have an ill name. The proverb saith, he 
is half-hanged, A thief before the judge speeds the worse for his notorious 
name. Is this all ? No ; but as he whose breath is stifled with a cord is 
wholly hanged, so he that hath strangled his own reputation, which is the 
breath of his breath, with a lewd life, is at least half suspended. His in- 
famy hangs on the gibbet of popular contempt till it be recovered. He is 
half alive, half a corpse. It was the plain meaning of the proverb. 

Now, that a bad name is a broad shame, it appears, because no stews- 
hunter would be called a whoremonger, no Papist an idolater, no usurer a 
usurer. All sinners are ashamed to be accounted what they have assumed 
to be. But it is certain that if a man be ashamed of his name, his name 
may be ashamed of him. As thou lovest thy reputation with men, seek the 
testimony of thine own conscience. It is the best fame that carries credit 
with God. Let men say what they list, Lord, thou knowest mine inno- 
cence. Yet, because it is hard to do good unless a man be reputed good, 
therefore dare not to darken the light of thy name by the gross clouds of 
thy impieties. This is the second destruction that continued vice brings her 
lovers. Prov. vi. 3.3, 'A wound and dishonour shall he get, and his reproach 
shall not be wiped away.' When he hath done it, he is undone by it. 
Perdit honorem, perdendo honestatem, — The dishonesty in him shall bring 
dishonour to him : he builds, Haman-like, a gallows for his own credit. 

[3.] In his health. The precepts of Wisdom, practised with obedience, 
'bring health to the flesh, and are life to tliose that find them,' Prov. iv. 22 ; 
but sin is ' rottenness to the bones.' ' He that committetli fornication,' 
saith St Paul, 1 Cor. vi. 18, 'sinneth against his own body.' Let it be 
inevitably true in this sin, it is, at least accidentally, tnie in all sins. For 
tliDUgh God sufl'ers some reprobates to keep 'firm health,' and to escape 
'common ])lagHos;' that they have 'fat eyes,' Ps. Ixxiii. 4, 5, 7, and clear 
lungs, 'merry liearts' and 'nimble loins,' Job xxi. 13 ; and can stroke their 
grey hairs, vcr. 7 ; yet often he cither puts them on the rack of some tcr- 



PrOV. IX. 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 22.5 

rible disease, or quite puts out their candle. ' Bloody and deceitful men 
shall not live out half their days,' Ps. Iv. 23. All sickness originally pro- 
ceeds from sin, all weakness from wickedness. As Mepliibosheth caught his 
lameness by falling from his nurse, so all men their diseasedness by falling 
from their Christ. The evil disposition of the soul mars the good composi- 
tion of the body. There is no disaster to the members but for disorder in 
the manners. All diseases are God's real sermons from heaven, whereby he 
accuseth and punisheth man for his sins. 

The harlot is a plague to the flesh : she is worse than a fever, more in- 
fectious than the pestilence. Every nation hath his several disease ; but the 
harlot is a universal plague, whereof no nation is free. She makes the strong 
man glad of potion, brings health acquainted with the physician; and he 
that stoutly denied the knowledge of liis gate, now stands trembling at his 
study door, with a bare head, a bending knee, and a humble phrase. She is 
the common sink of all corruptions, both natural and preternatural, inci- 
dent to the conscience or corpse ; and hath more diseases attending on her 
than the hospital. 

The Midianitish harlot. Num. xxv., sin, leads in a train of no fewer nor 
weaker plagues. Consumptions, fevers, inflammations, botches, emerods, 
pestilences, are peccatl peJissequcc, the observant handmaids of iniquity. As 
it is, then, wicked to * take the members of Christ, and make them the mem- 
bers of a harlot,' 1 Cor. vi. 15 ; so it is wretched to divorce the afi'ections 
of the mind from God, and wed them to any impiety. Thus do these pair 
of harlots impair the health. 

[4.] They both concur to spoil a man's soul ; wMes the Soul of the soul, 
God's Spirit, quo agitante calescimus, is by this bereaved us. Acts xviL 28, 
' In him we Uve, move, and have our being.' In illo vivimus : vivimus per 
naturaiii, bene vivimus per gratiam. In illo movemus, vel movemur potius, 
ad humana, ad divina opera suscipienda. Ka/ 'iaiMiv; essentiam habemus, 
quoad esse, et quoad bene esse ; — In him all live naturally, some graciously. 
In him we move, or rather are moved, to the performance, all of human 
works, some of divine. In him we have our being ; both that we are at all, 
and that we are well. This better life is the soul spoiled of when sin hath 
taken it captive. ' The adulteress will hunt for the precious life,' Prov. vL 
26. She is ambitious, and would usurp God's due, and claim the heart, the 
soul. ' He that doth love her destroy eth his own soul,' ver. 32 : which 
she loves not for itself, but for the destruction of it ; that all the blossom.s 
of grace may d^^indle and shrink away, as blooms in a nipping frost; and 
all our comforts run from us, as flatterers from a falling greatness, or as 
vermin from a house on fire. Nay, even both thy lives are endangered. 
The wicked man ' goeth after her, as a fool to the correction of the stocks ; 
till a dart strike through his liver, as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knoweth 
not that it is for his life,' Prov. vii. 23. It is as inevitably true of the spiri- 
tual harlot's mischief; for ' the turning away of the simple shall slay them,' 
Prov. i. 32. Save my life, and take my goods, saith the jjrostrate and yield- 
ing traveller to the thief But there is no mercy with this enemy : the life 
must pay for it. She is worse than that invincible navy, that threatened to 
cut the throats of all, men, women, infants ; but I would to God she might 
go hence again without her errand, as they did, and have as little cause to 
brag of her conquests. 

2. Thus have we described the temptress. The tempted follows, who are 
here called the dead. There be three kinds of death — corporal, spiritual, 
eternal : corporal, when the body leaves this life ; spiritual, when the soul 

VOL. I. P 



226 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeKIION XVI. 

forsakes and is forsaken of grace ; eternal, when both shall be tlirown into 
hell. The first is the separation of the soul from the body ; the second is 
the separation of body and soul from grace ; and the third is the separation 
of them both from everlasting happiness. Man hath two parts by which he 
lives, and two places wherein he might live if he obeyed God : earth for a 
time, heaven for ever. This harlot, sin, deprives either part of man in 
either place of true life, and subjects Mm both to the first and second death. 
Let us therefore examine in these particulars, first, what this death is; 
and, secondly, how Satan's guests, the wicked, may be said to be liable there- 
unto. 

(1.) Corporal death is the departure of the soul from the body, whereby 
the body is left dead, without action, motion, sense ; for the life of the 
body is the union of the soul with it. For which essential dependence the 
soul is often called and taken for the life : ' Peter said unto liim, Lord, why 
cannot I follow thee now ? I will lay down my soul for thy sake,' John 
xiii. 37, — Trjv -^^x^v, his soul, meaning, as it is translated, his life. And, 
' He that findeth his soul shall lose it ; but he that loseth his soul for my 
sake shall find it,' Matt. x. 39. Here the soul is taken for the life. So that 
in this death there is the separation of the soul and the body, the dissolution 
of the person, the privation of life, the continuance of death ; for there is no 
possible regress from the privation to the habit,* except by the supernatural 
and miraculous hand of God. This is the first, but not the worst, death which 
sin procureth. And though the special deadness of the guests here be spi- 
ritual, yet this, which we call natural, may be implied, may be applied ; 
for when God threatened death to Adam's sin. In illo die morieris, — ' In the 
day that thou eatest thereof thou slialt surely die,' — yet Adam lived nine 
hundred and thirty years after. There was, notwithstanding, no delay, no 
delusion of God's decree ; for in ipso die, in that very day, death took hold on 
him. And so is the Hebrew phrase, Gen. ii. 1 7, ' dying, thou shalt die :' fall 
into a languishing and incurable consumption, that shall never leave thee 
till it bring thee to thy grave. So that he instantly died, not by present sepa- 
ration of soul and body, but by mortality, mutability, misery, yea, by sorrow 
and pain, as the instruments and agents of death. Thus said that father, 
* After a man beginneth to be in this body,' by reason of his sin, ' he is even in 
death.' 

The wicked, then, are not only called dead because the conscience is dead, 
but also in respect of God's decree, whose inviolable substitution of death to 
sin cannot be evaded, avoided. It is the statute-law decreed in the great 
parliament of heaven. Statutum omnibus semel mori, — ' It is appcnnted unto 
men once to die,' Heb. ix. 27. This is one special kindness that sin doth 
us ; one kiss of her lips. She gives her lovers three mortal kisses. The 
first kills the conscience ; the second, the carcase ; the third, body and soul for 
ever. Kom. v. 12, 'Death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.' 
So Paid schools his Corinthians : 1 Cor. xi. 30, ' For this cause many are 
weak and sick among you, and many sleep.' And conclusively, Horn. vi. 23, 
Peccati stipendium '/«o/-s,— ' The wages of sin is death' This death is to the 
wicked death indeed, even as it is in its own full nature the curse of God, 
the suburbs of hell. Neither is this unjust dealing with God, that man 
should incur the death of his body that had rejected the life of his soul. 
Nisi pmcessisset in j>eccato mors animce, nunquam corporis mors in siipplicio 
ser/Heretur,f—Ii sin had not first wounded the body, death could not have 
killed the soul. Hence saith Augustine, 'Men shun the death of the flesh 
• That is, Laving.— Ed. j. Fulgent. 



PkOV. IX. 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 227 

rather than the death of tlie spirit ; that is, the punishment rather than the 
cause of the punishment.'* 

Indeed death, considered in Christ, and joined with a good life, is to God's 
elect 'an advantage,' Phil. L 21 ; nothing else but a bridge over this tem- 
pestu(ms sea to paradise. God's mercy made it so, saith St Augustine.'f 
' not by making death in itself good, but an instrument of good to his.' This 
he demonstrates by an instance : ' As the law is not evil when it increa.seth 
the lust of sinners, so death is not good though it augment the glory of 
sufferers.' The wicked use the law ill, though the law be good. The good 
die well, though the death be c^il. Hence saith Solomon, Eccles. vii. 1, ' The 
day of death is better than the day of one's birth.' For our death is non ohitus, 
sed abitus, — not a perishing, but a parting, Non amittitur anima, proemit- 
titnr tantum,—Th(i soul is not lost to the body, but only sent before it to 
joy. Si dwius seponitur, melius reponitur, — If the soul be painfully laid 
off, it is joyfidly laid up. Though every man that hath his Genesis must 
have his Exodus, and they that are born must die ; yet, saith Tertullian of 
the saints, Profectio est, quam putas mortem, — Our dying on earth is but the 
taking our journey into heaven. Simeon depart.s, and that in peace. In 
pace, in pacem. Death cannot be eventually hurtfid to the good ; for it 
no sooner takes away the temporal life but Christ gives eternal in the room 
of it. 

Alas ! au,aara, -TTTuiixara, corpora, caclavera. Our graces shall as surely 
be coffins to our bodies, as our bodies have been coffins to our souls. The 
mind is but in bondage whiles the body holds it on earth ; au/j-a, qimsi 
cniMa, as Plato affirms. Of whom saith an author, that when he saw one 
too indulgent to his Hcsh in high diet, he asked him, What do you mean, to 
make your prison so strong? Thus, qui gloriatur in viribus corporis, glori- 
atur in viribus carceris, — he that boasteth the strength of his body, doth but 
brag how strong the prison is wherein he is jailed. 



ZM'MO!, Ttti 



hi ->\,uyjii, abr;c, (m7^\ riy^Oog, avayyjri, — + 



The body is the disease, the grave, the destiny, the necessity, and the burden 
of the soul. 

' Hinc cupiunt, metiumtque, dolent, gaudentqne ; nee auras 
Respiciunt clausse tenebris et carcere cseco;' — 

' Fears, joys, griefs, and desires man's life do share : 
It wants no iUs that in a prison are.' 

It was a good observation that fell from that Stoic, § Homo calamitatis 
fabula, ivfelicitatis tabula, — Man is a story of woe, and a maj) of misery. 
So the Mantuan : — 

* Nam quid longa dies nobi.s, nisi longa dolorum 
Colluvies? Longi patientia carceris, retas?' 

It appears, then, that death is, to the good, a procurer of good. Mors in- 
termittit vitam, non eripit: venit iterum, qui nos in lucem reponat diesM 
Their death is but like the taking in sunder of a clock, which is jjulled 
a-pieces by the maker's hand, that it may be scoured and repohshed, and 

• De Trin., lib. iv., cap. 12. 

t De Civit., lib. xiii., cap. 4 : — ' Non quia mors bonum aliquod facta est, quam vita 
constat esse contrariam ; sed ut instrumentum fieret, per quod traueiretur in vitam.' 

+ Hom. 

§ Epictet. : — ' Qui tolerandaa esse injurias, et abstinendum ik voluptate docuit.' 

II Lactaut. 



228 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XVL 

made go more perfectly. But death to the wicked is the second step to that 
infernal vault, that shall breed either an innovation of their joys, or an addi- 
tion to their sorrows. Dives, for his momentary pleasure, hath insufferable 
pains. Judas goes from the gallows to the pit ; Esau from his dissolution 
in earth, to his desolation in hell. ' The dead are there.' Though the dead 
in soul be meant literally, yet it fetcheth in the body also. For as original 
sin Ls the original cause of death, so actual sins hasten it. Men speed out a 
commission of iniquities against their own lives. So the envious man rots 
his own bones ; the glutton strangles, the drunkard drowns himself The 
malecontent dries up his blood with fretting. Tlie covetous, whiles he 
Italianates liis conscience, and would Romanise his estate, starves himself in 
plain English, and would hang himself when the market falls, but that he is 
loath to be at the charges of a halter. Thus it is a feast of death, both for 
the present sense and future certainty of it. ' The dead are there.' 

(2.) Spiritual death is called the death of the soul ; which consisteth not in 
the loss of her understanding and will, (these she can never lose, no, not in 
hell,) but of the truth and grace of God, wanting both the light of faith to 
direct her, and the strength of love to incite her to goodness. ' For to be 
carnally minded is death ; but to be spiritually minded is life and peace,' 
Rom. viii. 6. The soul is the life of the body, God of the soul. The spirit 
gone utterly from us, we are dead. And so especially are the guests of Satan 
dead. ' You hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins,' Eph. 
ii. 1. And the widow ' that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth,' 1 
Tim. V. 6. This divorcement and separation made betwixt God and the soul 
by .sin is mors animce, — the death of the soul. ' But your iniquities have 
separated between you and your God,' Isa. lix. 2. But ' we live by faith,' 
Heb. X. 38, and that ' in the Son of God,' GaL ii. 20. ' His Spirit quickens 
us,' Eph. ii. 5, as the soul doth a lump of flesh, when God infaseth it. 

Now, because these terms of spiritual death are communicated both to 
the elect and reprobates, it is not amiss to conceive that there is a double 
kind of spiritual death, both in regard to the subject that dieth, and in 
regard to the object whereunto it dieth. Spiritual death in the faithful is 
threefold : — 

[1.] They are dead to sin. Rom. vi. 2, ' How shall we, that are dead to 
sin, live any longer therein ? ' A dead nature cannot work. He that is dead 
to sin cannot, as he is dead, sin. We sin indeed, not because we are dead 
to sin, but because not dead enough. Would to God you were yet more 
dead, that you might yet more live ! This is called mortification. Wliat are 
mortified ? Lusts. The wicked have mortification too, but it is of grace. 
Matt. viii. 22, they are both jointly expressed : ' Let the dead bury the 
dead.' Which St Augustine expounds, ' Let the spiritually dead bury those 
that are corporally dead.' The faithful are dead to sin ; the faithless are 
dead in sin. It is true life to be thus dead. Moi'tificatio concupiscentice, 
vivificatio animce, — So far is the spirit quickened as the flesh is mortified. 
So true is this paradox, that a Christian so far lives as he is dead ; so far 
he is a conqueror as he is conquered. Vincendo se, vincitur a se, — By over- 
coming himself, he is overcome of himself. Whiles he overrules his lusts, his 
soul rules him. When the outward cold rageth with greatest violence, the 
inward heat is more and more effectual. When death hath killed and stilled 
concupiscence, the heart begins to live. This war makes our peace. 

This life and death is wroiight in us by Christ, who at one blow slew our 
sins and saved our souls, (hia eadenvjue mamis vulnus opemqne tnJit, — One 
and the same hand gave the wound and the cure. Vtdneratur concupis- 



PHOV. IX. 18.] THE FATAL liANQUET. 229 

centia, sanatiir comcientla, — The deadly blow to the concupiscence hath 
revived the conscience. For Christ takes away as well dominandi vim as 
damnandi vim, — the dominion of sin as the damnation of sin. He died 
'that sin might not reign in our mortal body,' Rom. \-\. 12; he came 'to 
destroy ' not only the devil, but ' tlie works of tlie devil,' 1 Jolin iii. 8. Hence 
if you would, witli the spectacles of the Scriptures, read your own estates to 
God, ' reckon yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God 
through Jesus Christ our Lord,' Kom. vL 11. This triumph consists not ia 
being free from lusts, but in bridling them ; not in scaping tentation, but in 
vanquishing it. It is enough that ' in all these things we are more than 
conquerors through him that loved us,' Iloni. viii. 37. 

[2.] They are dead to the law. ' For I through the law am dead to the 
law, that I might live unto God,' Gal. ii. It) ; wiicrein he opposeth the law 
against the law, the new against the old, the law of Christ against that of 
Moses. This accuseth the accusing, condemneth the condemning law.* The 
Papists understand this of the ceremonial law , but Paul plainly expresseth 
that the law moral, which would have been to us a law mortal, is put under : 
we are ' dead unto it." As Christ at once came under death and overcame 
death, et snperit, et superat , so we, in him, are exempted from the condenni- 
ing power and killing letter of the law, and by being dead unto it are alive 
over it. Indeed, the law still abides. As Christ when he rose from the dead, 
the grave remamed still ; Peter freed from the prison, the palsied from his 
bed, the young man from his coffin, the prison, bed, coffin remain still ; the 
persons are delivered : so the law abides to mortify our lusts still more and 
more, but our conscience is freed from the bondage of it. ' We are dead 
unto it.' 

[3.] They are dead to the world. This death is double — active and 
passive. 

Active. — The world is dead unto us. The vanity of carnal joys, the va- 
riety of vanities, are as bitter to us as pleasant to the cosmopolite or world- 
ling. And since we must give our voices either to God or Mammon, when 
God asketh, as Jehu, ' Who is on my side, who ? ' we stand out for our God. 
Angustum est stratum jjectoris hmnani, et utrumipie operire non ])otest, — 
Plan's heart is too narrow a bed to lodge both God and the world in at once. 
Qui utrimi'iue ambit, in utroque dejiciet, — The hound that follows two hares 
Avill catch neither. A'^emo potest duobus dominis, neque dominii-.<i, imervire, — 
'No man can serve two masters,' Matt. vi. '2\, with true service ; especially 
when they command contrary things. Thus is the world dead to us. For, 
since the world is not so precious as the soul, we leave the world, to keep 
our soul, since both cannot well be affected at once ; therefore ' we account 
all things dross and loss for the excellent knowledge of Christ,' Phil. iiL 8. 

Passive. — We are dead to the world. As we esteem it dross, it esteems 
us filth : 1 Cor. iv. 13, ' We are made as the filth of the world, and as the 
offscouring of all things unto this day.' As we, in a holy contempt, tread 
it under in our works, and vUify it in our words, so it looks w\)Qn us betwixt 
scorn and anger, and offers to set his foot on our necks. But vicimus, we 
have conquered : 1 John v. 4, ' Who.soever is born of God overcometh the 
world : and this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith.' 
Let us rejoice, therefore, in ' our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is 
crucified to us, and we to the world,' Gal. vi. 14. 

These are good deaths ! Blessed souls, that are thus dead ! Their death 
is mortification, and, like the phtjenix, they are no sooner dead but they are 
♦ Luth. in GaL 



230 THE FATAL BANQUET, [SeRMON XVI. 

new-born. Their old man's autumn is their new man's spring-tide. There 
are none thus dead at this feast. 

The dead here have seared consciences, poisoned affections, warped, 
withered, rotten souls. ' Twice dead,' saith St Jude ; and some, -without hope 
of growing, ' plucked up by the roots.' Though the Pythagorean eiTor, the 
transanimation or the departure of the soul from man to man, was brought 
to the BasUidean heresy ; nay, which was more gross, though the poets feigned 
that the souls of men departed in beasts, — Orpheus into the swan, Ajax into 
the lion, Agamemnon into the eagle, politicians into bees and ants, "the lux- 
urious into hogs, tyrants in wolves ; which were positions for Machiavel, and 
articles of Lucian's faith : yet they might rather (and that more favourably 
to their o\\ti credits, speaking according to men's lives) have affirmed that 
the spirits of beasts might rather seem to have entered men, If at least the 
beasts do not preserve their nature better than men. They live whiles they 
live ; men are dead even living, hnpie vivere est diu mori, — A wicked life 
is a continual death. And we may say of an old wicked man, not that he 
hath lived, but that he hath been long. Deus vita, ct qua qui distinguitur 
perit, — God is the true life, without whom we cannot live. 

The heart of a wicked man thus becometh dead. The devil works by 
suggesting, man by consenting, God by forsaking. He forsakes thus : — [1.] 
By suffering a hard heart to grow harder. [2.] By givuig success to ill pur- 
poses, which he could have disappointed. [3.] By not imparting the assist- 
ance of his Spirit. Thus he leaves them in darkness that would not choose 
the light ; and finding their hearts undisposed to believe, delivers them up to 
infideUty. His not willing to soften is enough to harden ; his not 'wiUiug to 
enlighten is enough to darken. Dei claudere est clausis non aperire, — God 
is then said to shut up when he doth not open to them that are shut up. 
God is able to soften the hard heart, open the blind eye, pierce the deaf ear. 
When he doth, it is mercy ; when not, it is justice. Only our falling is from 
ourselves. Hos. xiii. 9, ' Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself, but in me is 
thy help.' For God is ever foremost in love, but last in hate. He loved us 
before wc loved him ; but we hate him before he hates us. 3fuUi ne labe- 
rentur detenti, nulli ut laberentur impidsl, — God preserves many from fall- 
ing, but he thrusteth none down. By his strength we stand ; through our 
own weakness we fall. 

As in the sickness of the body, so of the soul, there are critical days, secret 
to ourselves, but well known to God ; whereby he sees our recovery unlikely, 
and therefore turns us over to the danger of our sickness : that now, too 
late, Jerusalem knows what was offered her ' in the day of her visitation.' 
God blinds the soid, blinded before by Satan ; and hardens again Pharaoh's 
self-hardoiied heart : Et quia non faciunt bona qua; cognosctint, non cogno- 
scent mala quw faciunt, — Because they would not do the good they knew, 
they shall do the evil they know not. Thus is the soul's death degreed up. 
Sin gathers strength by custom, and creeps like some contagious disease in 
the body from joiiit to joint ; and, because not timely spied and medicined, 
threatens universal hazard to the whole. It swells like the sea : tmda levis, 
majora volHmma,Jliidus ad coeliim. An egg, a cockatrice, a serpent, a fiery 
flying serpent. Custom indeed kills the soul. The curse that the Cretians 
used against their enemies was not fire on their houses, nor rottenness on 
their bea.sts, nor a sword at their hearts, but that which would treble to them 
all mischief— that they might be delighted with an evil custom : Ut mala 
consueludine dtlectentur. Temptation assaults the heart ; consent wounds 
it : it lies sick of action ; it dies by delight in sui ; it is buried by custom. 



PrOV. IX. 18.] TUE FATAL BANQUET. 2.31 

The bell hath tolled for it; God's word hath mourned; the church hatii 
prayed for it ; but quid valcant sif/na jn-ecesve ? — what good can signs and 
prayers do, when we voluntarily yield our heart fo hiin that violently kills 
it ? Thus God leaves the heart, and Satan seizeth on it, whose gripes are 
not gentler than death. 

Thus the habit of sin takes away the sense of sin ; and the conscience, 
that was at first raw and bleeding, as newly wounded, is now ' seared up with 
a hot iron,' 1 Tim. iv. 2. The conscience of a wicked man first speaks to 
him, as Peter to Christ, ^Matt. xvi. 22, ' Master, look to thyself.' But he stops 
her mouth with a violent hand. Yet she would fam speak to him, like the 
importunate widow, to do her justice. He cannot well be rid of her, there- 
fore he sets her a day of hearing, and when it is come fiiileth her. She cries 
yet louder for audience ; and when all his corrupt and bribed atfcctions can- 
not charm her silence, he drowns her complaints at a tavern, or laughs her 
out of countenance at a theatre. But if the pulse beats not, the body is 
most dangerously sick ; if the conscience prick not, there is a dying souL 
It is a lawless school where there is an awless monitor. The city is easily 
surprised where the watch cannot ring the alarms. No marvel if numbness 
be in the heart when there is dumbness in the conscience. 

These are the dead guests ; dead to all goodness. Deaf ears, lame feet, 
blind eyes, maimed hands, when there is any employment for them in God's 
service. * Eyes fuU of lust,' void of compassion ; ears deaf to the word, 
open to vanity ; feet swift to shed blood, slow to the temple ; hands open to 
extortion, shut to charity. To all religion the heart is a piece of dead flesh. 
No love, no fear, no care, no pain can penetrate their senseless and remorse- 
less hearts. I know, that accordhig to the speech of the philosopher, nemo Jit 
repente miser, — this is no sudden evil : they were born sick, they have made 
themselves dead. Custom liath inveterated the ulcer, rankled the conscience, 
and now sin flouts the physician's cure, knowing the soul dead. Through 
many wounds they come to this death. At first they sin and care not, now 
they sin and know not. The often taken potion never works. Even the 
physic of reproof turns now to their hardening. Oh that our times were not 
full of this deadness ! How many never take the mask of religion but to 
serve their own turns ! And when piety becomes their advantage, yet they 
at once counterfeit and condemn it. If a wished success answer the inten- 
tion of their minds and contention of their hands, God is not worthy of the 
praise ; either their fortune or their wit hath the glory of the deed, and 
thanks for it. But if they be crossed, God shall be blasphemed under the 
name of destiny ; and he shall be blamed for their iU to whom they \vill not 
be beholden for their good. 

God is not thought of but in extremity, not spoken of but in blasphemy. 
O dead hearts ! whose funeral we may lament, whose reviving we can almost 
not hope. But what 1 WiU this deadness never be a little wakened l Tnie 
it is, that God must miraculously raise up the soul thus dead, and put the 
life of his grace into it, or it is desperate. The conscience, I confess, will 
not ever lie quiet in these dead guests ; but as they have jailed up that for 
a while in the darkness of security, so when God looseth it, it ^\'ill rage as 
fast against them, and dog them to their graves. For as there is a heaven 
on earth, so a hell on earth. The dead to sm are heavened in this world ; 
the dead in sui are helled here, by the tormenting anguish of an unappeas- 
able conscience. As Bishop Latimer, in a sermon, toid these guests of a 
feast in hell, wliich will afl'ord them little mkth ; where weeping is served in 
for the first course, gnashing of teeth for the second : so, after their fe;ist on 



232 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XVI. 

earth, — which was no better than Numa's, where the table swam with delicate 
dishes, but they were swimming dishes, spedandce non gmtanche dapes, — let 
them prepare for another banquet where groans shall be their bread, and tears 
their drink, sighs and sorrows all their junkets ; which the Erynnis of con- 
science and the Megajra of desperation shall serve ia, and no everlastingness 
of time shall take away. 

But these spiritually dead giiests do not evermore scape so long ; some- 
times God gives them in this life a draught of that vial of his wrath which 
they shall after sup off to the bottom. The wicked man, that had no fear, 
now shall have too much fear. He that began with the wanton comedy of 
presumption and profaneness, ends with the tragedy of horror and despair. 
Before, he was so asleep that nothing could waken him ; noAv, he is so waking 
that nothing can bring him asleep. Neither disport abroad nor quiet at home 
can possess him ; he cannot possess himself. Sin is not so smooth at setting 
forth as turbulent at the journey's end. The wicked have their day, wherein 
they run from pleasure to pleasure, as Job's children from banquet to ban- 
quet ; their joys have changes of variety, little intermission, no cessation ; 
neither come they faster than their lusts call for them. So God hath his day : 
Amos V. 1 8, 1 9, ' And woe unto you that desire the day of the Lord ! to what 
end is it for you 1 The day of the Lord is darkness, and not light. As if a 
man did flee from a lion, and a bear met him ; or went into the house, and 
leaned his hand on the wall, and a serpent bit him.' Such is the unrest of a 
conscience brought to fret for his sins. So Augustine (in Psal. xlv.) : Fugii 
ah agro in civitatem, ct, publico ad domum, d, domo in cubicidum, — He runs 
from the field into the city, from the city to his house, and in his house to 
the privatest chamber ; but he cannot fiy from his enemy that cannot fly from 
himself 

At first the devil's guest pursues pleasure so eagerly, that he would'break 
down the bars that shut it from him, and quarrel with venture of his 
blood for his delights, nay, for the conditions of his own sorrow and damna- 
tion. Now pleasure is offered him ; no, it will not down. Music stands at 
his window; it makes him as mad with discontent as it did once with joy. 
No jest can stir his laughter, no company can waken his unreasonable and 
unseasonable melancholy. Now he that was madder than Nero in delights, 
' fear compasscth him on every side.' He starts at his own shadow, and 
would change firmness with an aspen leaf. He thinks, like the BurgTindians, 
every thistle a lance, every tree a man, every man a devil. ' They fear 
where no fear was,' saith the Psalmist. They think they see what they do 
not see. This is the wicked man's alteration : time is, he will not be warned ; 
time comes, ho will not be comforted. Then he is satisfied with lusts that 
thought such a satisfaction impossible. Riches weary hiui now to keep 
them more than they wearied him once to get them ; and that was enough. 
So I have read the oppressor's will : Lego omnia bona mea domino regi, 
corpus sepultum, animavi diabolo, — I bequeath all my goods to the kiiig, 
my body to the grave, my soul to the devil. He that did wrong to all 
would now seem to do right to some : in giving his coin to the prince, whom 
he had deceived ; his soul to the devil, whom he had served. Wherein, as 
lie had formeriy injured man, now he injures both God and himself too. 

{."}.) I have dwelt the longer on this spiritual deadncss, because the guests 
at this banquet have this death in present : the precedent and subsequent 
are both future ; the one naturally incurred by sin, the other justly inflicted 
for unrrix'iited sin. For all Khali die the corporal death : Eccles. ix. 2, ' He 
that fcaroth an oath,' as well as ' he that sweareth;' the religious as the pro- 



PrOV. IX. 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 233 

fane. But this last, ^vliich is etenial death, shall only seize on them tliat 
have beforehand with a spiritual death slain themselves. This therefore is 
called the ' second death.' Kev. xx. 6, ' Blessed and holy is he that hath 
part in the first resurrection,' which is the spiritual life by grace ; ' on such 
the second death hath no power.' He that is by Christ rai.sed from the 
first death shall by Christ also scape the second. But he that is dead spi- 
ritually, after he hath died corporally, shall also die eternally. This is that 
everlasting separation of body and soul from God, and consequently from 
all comfort. ' Fear him,' saith our Saviour, Matt. x. 28, ' that is able to 
destroy bt)th body and soul in hell.' Dan. xii. 2, ' And many of them that 
sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some 
to shame and everlasting contempt.' This is that death that Grod doliglits 
not in, Ezek. xxxiii. 11. His goodness hath no pleasure in it, though his jus- 
tice must inflict it. 

Man by sin hath offended God, an infinite majesty, and therefore deserves 
an infinite misery. Now, because he is a nature finite, he ciinnot suSer a 
punishment infinite in greatness, simul et sernel, together and at once ; he 
must therefore endure it successive sine fine, successively without end. The 
punishment must be proportioned to the sin ; because not in present great- 
ness, therefore in eternal continuance. Christ for his elect suffered in short 
time sufficient punishment for their sins ; for it is all one for one that is 
eternal to die, and for one to die eternally. But he for whom Christ suf- 
fered not in that short time must suffer for himself beyond all times, even 
for ever. 

This is the last death : a li\nng death, or a dying life, what shall I term 
it ? If it be life, how doth it kill ? If death, how doth it live 1 There is 
neither life nor death but hath some good in it. In life there is some ease, 
in death an end ; but in this death neither ease nor end. Prima mors 
animam dohntem peUit de cnrpore ; secunda vwrs animam nolentem tenet in 
corpore* — The first death drives the soul unwillingly from the body ; the 
second death holds the soul unwillingly in the body. llev. ix. 6, ' In these 
days shall men seek death, and shall not find it ; and shall desire to die, and 
death shall fly from them.' ' Their worm shall not die.' Thus saith the 
Scripture : Morientur mortem, ' They shall die the death.' Yet their death 
hath too much life in it. For there is a perfection given to the body and soul 
after this life ; as in heaven to the stronger participation of comfort, so in hell 
to the more sensible receiving of torment. The eye shall see more perspi- 
cuously, and the ear hear more quickly, and the sense feel more sharply, 
though all the objects of these be sorrow and anguish. Vermis conscien- 
tiam corrodet, ignis carnem combnrct, quia ft corde et corpore deliqnemnt, — 
The worm shall gnaw the conscience, the fire burn the flesh, because both 
flesh and conscience have oft'endcd. This is the fearful death which these 
guests incur ; this is the shot at the devil's banquet. God in his justice 
suffers him to reward his gue-sts as he is rewarded himself; and, since they 
loved his w^ork, to give them the stipend due to his service. These are the 
tempted guests — dead. 

The Vulgar translation, I know not upon what ground, hath interpreted 
here for mortui, Gigantes: thus, ' he knoweth not that the giants arc there.' 
Monstrous men, that would dart thunder at God hijnself, and rai.se up 
mountains of impiety against heaven. As if they were only great men that 
feasted at Satan's banquet, whose riches were able to minister matter to 
their pleasure. And surely such are in these days : of whose sins when we 
* Aust. de Civit. Dei, lib. xxi., cap. 3. 



23-1: THE FATAL BANQUET. [SkUMON XVI. 

have cast an inventory account, we might thus with the poet sum up them- 
selves — 

' VLs dicam quid sis ? magnus es Ardelio ; ' — 

* Thou hast great lands, great powers, great sins ; and then 
Dost ask me what thou art '! Th' art a great man.' 

The giants in the Scriptm-e, Gen. vi, 4, were men of a huge stature, of a 
fierce nature. The poets feigned their giants to be begotten and bred of the 
sun and the earth, and to ofier violence to the gods : some of them having 
an hundred hands, as Briareus was called centimanus, meaning they were 
of great command ; as Helen wrote to Paris of her husband ilenelaus : An 
nescis longas regibus esse manus ? This word giants, if the original did 
afford it, must be refen-ed, either to the guests, signifying that monstrous 
men resorted to the harlot's table, and that it was giganteum convivium, a 
tyrannous feast ; or else, and that rather, to the tormentors, which are laid 
in ambush, to surprise all the comers in, and carry them as a prey to hell. 
But because the best translations give no such word, and it is far fetched, I 
let it fall as I took it up. 

3. The third person here inserted is the attempted, the new guest whom 
she strives to bring in to the rest. He is described by his ignorance : Nescit, 
— ' He knoweth not ' what company is in the house, ' that the dead are there.' 
It is the devil's policy, when he would ransack and rob the house of our 
conscience, like a thief to put out the candle of our knowledge ; that we 
might neither discern his purjjoses nor decline his mischiefs. He hath had 
his instruments in all ages to darken the light of knowledge. Domitian 
turns philosophy into banishment. Julian shuts up the school doors. The 
barbarous soldiers under Clement the Seventh burned that excellent Vatican 
library. Their reasons concurred with Julian's prohibition to the Christians : 
ha firi oht'ioig -rrgso/s (SaXXoJ/^iSa., — lest they kill us with their own weapons. 
For it is said even of Gentile learning : Ilic est Golice gladius, quo ipse Go- 
liah jugidandus est : Mc Jlerculis clava, qua rahidi mter Ethnicos canes per- 
cutiendi sunt; — This is that Goliah's sword, whereby the Philistine himself 
is wounded : this is that Hercules's club, to smite the mad dogs amongst 
the heathen. Habadallus, Mohammed's scholar, that Syrian tyrant, forbade all 
Christian children in his dominions to go to school, that by ignorance he 
might draw them to superstition. For roug d(piXoa6poug sv rw sxorsi opy^sladai, 
— to be destitute of learning is to dance in the dark. These were all Satan's 
instruments ; yet they come short of the Pops, whose policy to advance his; 
hierarchy is to oppress men's consciences with ignorance ; teaching that the 
fulness of zeal doth arise from the emptiness of knowledge, — even as fast as 
fire flasheth out of a fish-pond. 

There are degrees in sin, so in ignorance. It is a sin to be ignorant of 
that we should know ; but a greater sin to be ignorant of that we have means 
to know. Ignorance may be distinguished into five kinds : human, natural, 
affected, invincible, proud and puffed up. 

The /rst is human. This is not sinful, as in Adam not to know his 
nakedness nor Satan's subtlety. So in the angels, yea, even in the Head of 
the angels, Christ himself, as man, not to know the latter day, Mark xiii. 
32. Proprium est natural humance futura iguorare* — It is a thing simply 
proper to the nature of man, to be ignorant of future things. No legal in- 
junction binds us to it ; no censure shall pass against us for the want of it. 
This is called ignorantia jusla, an unfaulty ignorance. 
* Cyril. 



PrOV. IX. 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 23.J 

The second is natural : called ignorantia infinnitatis vet imperilice, — the 
ignorance of infirmity, incident to man's nature .since his fall. For desiring to 
know more, he knew less. This is the effect of sin, sin in itself, and the cause 
of sin. It was bred by tran.sgression, it doth breed transgression, and Ls no less 
than transgression of its own nature ; for God's law bhids us to the knowledge 
of his law. The blind swallows many a fly ; the ignorant cannot be iimo- 
cent. This is ignorcDitia simplex, involuntaria, privata, as the school calls 
it: a sin which the Papists generally, and, I fear, many Protestants par- 
ticularly, never repent of. David doth. It is this that makes us aliens 
from God : ' Having the understanding darkened, being alienated from the 
life of God through the ignorance that is in them, and through the blind- 
ness of their heart,' Eph. iv. 18. St Paul calls liis ignorance the cause of 
his sbis, 1 Tim. i. 13. Et nescias servus jioenas luet, .saith Christ, — even 
' the ignorant servant shall be beaten with some stripes.' ' Therefore my 
people are gone into captivity, because they have no knowledge,' Isji. v. 13. 
A prophecy mystically fulfilled in these days, in respect of our spiritual bon- 
dage to Satan ; ' the god of this world having blinded the minds of un- 
believers,' '2 Cor. iv. 4. This ignorance cannot excuse, for we are bound to 
know. The breach of our national statutes cannot go impune by the plea of 
ignorance. It may [a tanio, not ct toto) a little qualify and allay our punish- 
ments, not annihilate them. This is a^oia, folly ; and he that drinks of folly's 
cup shall have little cause to lick his lips after it. Nature is a common 
schoolmaster ; and the Gentiles, sinning against that monitor, justly perish. 
For ' the invisible things of God may be understood by things that are made : 
so that they are without excuse,' Rom. L 20. Even the errors of the Jews 
had their sacrifices, and shall not the ignorances of the Christians cry God 
mercy ? This ignorance is sinful, yea, even in those that cannot have the 
means of knowledge. 

The third is an affected ignorance. John iii. 19, * This is the condemna- 
tion, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than 
light, because their deeds were evil.' These shut their ears when God calleth ; 
and, being housed in their security, will not step to the door to see if the 
sun shines. This ignorance, if I may say so, doth reside rather hi their affec- 
tion than understanding part. ' They wilfully know not,' saith St Peter, 
2 Pet. iii. 5. They know, but will not know, and run with broad eyes to de- 
struction. Tell them that Christ is at Jerusalem : no, it is too far off. Nay, 
venit ad limina virtus, — ' the kingdom of heaven is among you : ' then, if 
they must needs go to church, they will go hooded. Prejudice of affections 
shall muffle the eyes of knowledge. Thus the devil carries them quietly to 
hell ; as the falconer his hooded hawk, which barefaced woidd bite, and be 
too wild to sit on his fist. These sometimes have grey hairs and green affec- 
tions. Like a man that being bom near a great city, yet never travelled to 
it, he can direct others the way he never went. Those, to avoid that fault 
which the traveller found ui England, horologia non bene ordinata, — that our 
clocks were not well kept, (he meant our hours were ill spent,) — will have no 
clock at all in their house to tell them how their time passeth ; no infonner 
of their errhig ways. And, as if a candle would set their house on fire, they 
live perpetually in the dark. Micah was glad he had got a priest; these are 
glad they are got far from a priest, and had as lief go to hell darkling as 
with a torch. 

The fourth is an invincible ignorance : when God hath naturally darkened 
the understanding, by a sore punishment of original sin, — idioticum hoc. No 
art nor eloquence can put knowledge into that heart which nature hath not 



236 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XVI. 

opened to receive it ; as no mind can be opened whicli God hath locked up. 
He keeps the keys : Rev. iii 7, ' He openeth, and no man shutteth ; he 
shutteth, and no man openeth.' The door of this mind is so fast barred up 
that no help of man can open it. Neither can there be, in this, a complaint 
against God's justice, since that our first sin hath deserved a greater punish- 
ment. 

The last is a proud ignorance : whereof there is no hope, saith Solo- 
mon, Prov. xxvii. 1. The other is invincible, indeed this more invincible ; a 
fool is sooner taught. So Christ foiled the Pharisees with their own weapons, 
and proved their weakness by the arguments they brought for their own 
strength. John ix. 41, 'If you were blind, you should have no sin : but 
now you say. We see; therefore your sin remaineth.' The Pharisees, 
though blind, will be seers : Nicodemus ' a master in Israel,' and yet knew 
nothing of regeneration, John iii. 10. Nihil gravius, quam si id, quod ignorat 
quis, scire se o'edat* — There is nothing more grievous than that a man 
should be persuaded he knows that soundly whereof he is totally ignorant. 
Therefore saith Chrysostom, Prcestat proha ignoratione detineri qtiam falsa 
opmione 7)iancipan,f — It is better to be held in with an honest ignorance 
than to run out with a false opinion. It is hard plougliing in the ground 
not stocked ; ill writing on a paper full of lines. These fly from instruction 
as the tiger from the trumpet. Others are comprehended of the light ; 
these think they comprehend the light, when, as the Apostle saith, ' they are 
held of darkness.' :[ 

Let us now see which of these ignorances are here meant. I answer, ex- 
empting the first, Satan's harlot, vice, hath guests of all these sorts : many 
that ' go after her as an ox to the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of 
the stocks,' Prov. vii. 22. Some run to the banquet, and know not ; some 
know, and run : all are fools, and destitute, if not of natural, yet of spiritual 
understanding. To this purpose she apteth her speech here : ver. 16, 'Who 
is simple, let him turn in hither ; and as for him that wanteth understand- 
ing, she saith,' &c. Knowledge is good, yet if disjoined from grace, ovd-v 
hriti, ' it is nothing,' 1 Cor. xiii. 2. Nihil in esse graiice, quamvis aliqitid in 
esse naturoi, — Nothing in grace, though something in nature. Knowledge 
human is a good stirrup to get up by to preferment ; divine, a good gale of 
wmd to waft us to heaven ; but charity is better. ' Knowledge often 
bloweth up, but charity buildeth up,' 1 Cor. viii. 1. Aristotle calls know- 
ledge the soul's eye ; but then, saith our Saviour, ' If the light be darkness, 
how great is that darkness ? ' 

True it is that knowledge without honesty doth more hurt. The uni- 
corn's horn, that in a wise man's hand is helpful, is in the beast's head hurt- 
ful. If a man be a beast in his affections, in his manners ; the more skilful, 
the more wilful. Knowledge hath two pillars, learning and discretion. The 
greatest scholar without his two eyes, of discretion and honesty, is like blind 
Samson ; apt to no good, able to much mischief Prudence is a virtue of the 
soul, nay, the very soul of virtue, the mistress to guide the life in goodness. 
All moral virtues are beholden to Wisdom. She directs bounty what to give, 
wlien to give, where to give ; and fortitude, with whom, for what, and how 
to fight. Knowledge is excellent to prevent dangers imminent, and to keep 
us from the snares of this ' strange woman.' But if tlie devil in our days 
should have no guests but those that arc merely ignorant, his rooms would 
be more empty than they are, and his ordinary break for want of customers. 
But now-a-days, — alas ! when was it much better, and yet how can it be much 
* Clem. t Chrys. in Math., Horn. 76. X Tenebrac, a teueudo. 



PrOV. IX. 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 237 

worse ? — we know sin, yet affect it, act it. Time was, we were ignorant and 
blind ; now we have eyes and abuse them. Tyre and Sidon bum in hell, and 
their smoke ascends for evermore, that had no preachijig in their cities ; but 
our country is sown with mercies, and ourselves fatted with the doctruie of 
life. Who shall excuse our lame, lean, and ill-favoured lives ? Let us be- 
ware Bethsaida's woe. If the heathen shall wring their hands. f(jr their 
ignorance, then many Christians .shall rend tlieir hearts for their disobedience. 
Heb. X. 28, ' He that despised Moses's kw died without mercy under two or 
three witnesses.' He that despiseth, not he that transgresseth, for so do alL 
He that rejected and departed from the law and church of Israel ' died 
without mercy ' eternally, for other transgressors died without mercy tem- 
porally. Ver. 29 : 'Of how much sorer punishment sludl he be thought 
worthy that treads under his foot,' not Moses, but ' Chri-st, and counts,' not 
the ' blood ' of goats, but of ' God's Son unholy ; and despiteth,' which is 
more than despiseth, ' the Spirit,' not of fear and bondage, but ' of grace ? ' * 
All the learning of the philosophers was without a head, because they were 
ignorant of God : seeing, they were blind ; speaking, they were dumb ; hear- 
ing, they were deaf, like the idol-gods in the psalm. We want not a head, 
but a heart ; not the sense of knowledge, but the love of obedience : we 
hear, and see, and say, and know, but do not. 

If you know that God's cheer is so infinitely better, why do you enter 
commons at Satan's feast ] The school calls one kind of knowledge scientia 
contristans, a sorrowful knowledge. Though they intend it in another 
sense, it may be true in this, for it is a woeful knowledge when men with 
open eyes run to helL This is Uriah's letter, containing his own death. 
These tell Christ, Luke xiii. 2G, ' We knew thee : ' Christ tells them, Matt, 
vii. 23, ' I know not you.' These times are sick of Adam's disease, that had 
rather eat of the tree of knowledge than of the tree of life : speculative 
Christians, not active and obedient saints. You cannot plead that you 
* know not the dead are there ; ' behold, we have told you : quit yourselves. 
But many men's ignorance is disobedience : they will ' not know that the 
dead are there, and that her guests are in the depths of hell.' Which now 
presseth upon us to be considered. 

II. Solomon hath described the persons feasting and feasted. The place 
remains, ' the depths of hell.' This is the banqueting-house. It amplifies 
the misery of the guests in three circumstances : — 1. Their weakness ; they are 
soon in. 2. The place ; hell. 3. The unrecoverableuess of it ; the depth of 
heU. 

1. Per infirmitatem, — In regard of their weakness. No sooner come to 
the banquet, but presently in the pit ; they are in, they are soon in. They 
would not resist the temptation when it was offered ; they cannot resist the 
tribulation when it Is to be suffered : they are in. No ^\Testling, no con- 
tending can keep them from falling in. Into the pit they run against their 
•will, that ran so volently, so violently to the brink of it : as a man that 
hath taken his career, and runs full fling to a place, cannot recoil himself, or 
recall his strength on the sudden. He might have refused to enter the race, 
or recollected himself in time, but at the last step he cannot stop, nor revo- 
care gradiim, rescue him.self from falling. The guests that hasten themselves 
all their life to the feast of vanity, and neither in the first step of their youth 
nor in the middle race of their discreetest age return to God, do at last 
(without Christ's help) precipitate themselves into the depth of hell. Think, 
oh think, ye greedy dogs, that can never fast enough devour your sinful plea- 
♦ Lactant. 



238 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XVI. 

sures, if in the pride of your strength, the May of your blood, the marrow 
and vii-tue of your life, when you are seconded -with the gifts of nature, nay, 
blest with the helps of heaven, you cannot resist the allurements of Satan ; 
how unable will you be to deal with him, when custom in sin hath weakened 
your spirit.s, and God hath withdrawn his erst afforded comforts ! They that 
run so fiercely to the pit are quickly in the pit. ' The guests are Lq the 
depths of hell.' 

2. Per infernitatem, — In regard of the place, it is hell. The prophet 
Isaiah, chap. xxx. 33, thus describes it : ' Tophet is prepared of old ; he hath 
made it deep and large : the pile thereof is fire and much wood ; the breath 
of the Lord, like a flame of brimstone, doth kindle it.' Tophet was a place 
which the children of Israel built in the valley of Hinnom, to burn their 
sons and daughters in the fire to Moloch, 2 Kings xxiii. 10; which valley 
was near to Jebus, afterwards Jerusalem, as appears Jo.sh. xviil 1 6. The 
council of Jerusalem, whiles their power lasted, used to punish certain of- 
fenders in that valley, being near their city. By this is hell resembled ; 
and that, in Peter Martyr's opinion, for three reasons. (1.) Being a bottom, 
a low valley, it resembleth hell, that is believed to be under the earth. (2.) 
By reason of the fire wherewith the wicked are tormented in hell, as the 
children were in that valley burnt with fire. (3.) Because the place was un- 
clean and detestable, whither all vile and loathsome things were cast out of 
the city Jerusalem, Jer. vii. 31, 32. So hell is the place where defiled and 
wicked souls are cast, as unworthy of the holy and heavenly city. 

This place shall begin to open her cursed jaws, when the Judge of all men 
and angels shall have given his last sentence : at that day, when qucesitor 
sceleriun veniet, vindexque reonim, — the Searcher of all, and Punisher of 
wicked hearts, shall give his double voice of dread and joy ; when, having 
spoken peace to his saints, he shall thunder out condemnation to the wicked : 
* Go ye into everlasting fire.' 

' Dent ocius omnes, 
Quas meruere pati, sic stat sententia, pcenas.' 

And if here on earth se jiidice, nemo nocens ahsolvititr, a man's own con- 
science condemn him for his sins, how much greater shall be the just sentence 
of God ■? 1 John iii. 20. Then all murdering Cains, scoffing Hams, perse- 
cuting Sauls, thievish and sacrilegious Achans, oppressing Ahabs, covetous 
Nabals, drunken Holofernesses, cruel Herods, blasphemous Rabshakehs, un- 
just Pilatcs, shall reap the seed in their eternal deaths which they have sown 
ill their temporal lives. There shall be scorching heat and freezing cold : 
ex vehementissimo calore, ad veherneiiiissiimcm frigus, — without either act of 
refreshing or hope of releasing. Every day hath been their holiday on earth : 
every day shall be their work-day in hell. The poets feigned three furies — 

' Scindet latus una flagello : 
Altera tartareis sectos dabit anguibus artus : 
Tertia f umantes iucoquet igue geuas ; ' — 

'One brings the scorpion, which the conscience eats: 
Another with iron whips the black flesh beats : 
Whiles the third boils the soul in scalding heats.' ' 

Nemo ad id sero venit, unde nunquam, cum semel venit, poterit reverti* — No 
man can come too late to these sufferings, from whence, being once come, he 
can never return. 

This is hell ; where darkness shall be their prison, everlastingness their 
• Sen. 



PrOV. IX. 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 239 

fetters, flames their torments, angry angels their tormentors : xibi nee tor- 
tores dejiciant, nee torti miser i moriantur* — where the scourgcrs sliall never 
be weary of afflicting, nor the scourged faU in their suffering ; but there 
shall be always torments for the body, and a body for torments. Fire shall 
be the consummation of their plagues, not the consumption of their per- 
sons. Ubi per millia niillia annoruin crudandi, nee in secula seoilorum 
Uherandi,i — Myriads of years shall not accomplish nor determine their pun- 
ishments. It shall be their misery, semper velle quod nunquam erit, semper 
nolle quod nunquam, non erit, % — to have a wiU never satisfied, a mil never 
gratified. 

3. Pel' profunditatem, — The depth of hell. The Scripture is frequent to 
testify hell a deep place, and beneath us. Luke x. 15, Capernaum 'shall 
be cast down to hell.' Solomon so speaks, Prov. xv. 24, ' The way of life 
is above to the wise, that he may depart from hell beneath.'' And of this 
harlot, chap. vii. 27, ' Her house is the way to hell, (joing down to the cham- 
bers of death ; ' chap. v. 5, ' Her feet go doivn to death, her steps take hold 
on hell.' Dotvn and beneath do witness the depth of helL There are three 
places — earth, heaven, hell. Earth we all enjoy, good and bad, promiscu- 
ously. Heaven is prepared for the good ; and it is upwards : Col. iii. 1, 'If 
ye be risen with Christ, seek the things that are above.' Hell is ordained 
for the wicked ; and it is downward, called here prvfandum, a depth. To 
define the local place of hell, it is too deep for me ; I leave it to deeper judg- 
ments. I do not give Demonax's answer, being asked where hell was : Ex- 
pecta simul ac iliac venero, et tibi per literas signijicabo,^ — Tarry till I come 
thither, and I will send thee word by letters. I only say this, there is one, 
we are sure of it ; let us by a good life be as sure to escape it. 

But to confine my speech to the bounds of my text : I take it, that by hell, 
and the depth of it, here, is meant the deep bondage of the wicked souls ; 
that they are in the depth of the power of hell, Satan having by sin a full 
dominion over their consciences. For hell is often allegoricaUy taken in the 
Scriptures. So Jonah ' cries unto God out of the belly of hell,' chap. ii. 2. 
David sung De profundis, Ps. csxx. 1, ' Out of the depth have I cried unto 
thee, Lord.' So Christ spake of the unbehever, John iii. 18, that he is 
' already damned.' And the reprobate arc here afiirmed in the depth of hell. 
This exposition I esteem more natural to the words. For as the godly have 
a heaven, so the wicked a heU, even upon earth ; though both in a spiritual, 
not a literal sense. The reprobates' heU on earth is double, or of two sorts : — 

(1.) In that the power of hell rules in his conscience : Eph. ii. 2, ' He- 
walks according to the course of this world, and according to the prince of 
the power of the air, the spirit that now workcth in the children of disobedi- 
ence.' He is taken and led captive of the devil ; as hereafter in the chams 
of damnation, so here in the bands of dominion ; which Solomon calls /«?ifs 
peccatorum : as he hath ' drawn iniquity with the cords of vanity,' Isa. v. 18, 
so he ' shall be holden with the cords of his sins,' Prov. v. 22. 

(2.) There is a hell in his conscience. So St Augustine,]] Sunt duo tor- 
tores aninuc, Timor et Dolor, — The soul hath two tormentors even in this 
life — grief for evil felt, fear of evil to be felt. Whereof the poet — 

' Sic mea perpetuos curarum pectora rnoraus, 
Fine quibua nuUo conficiantur, habent.' 

These are the fearful terrors whereof the guilty heart cannot be quitted, cannot 

♦ Aug. t Ibiil. t Isiod. 

§ Eras. Aphor., hb. viiL II De Verb. Dom. sec. Job., Semi. 42. 



240 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeEMON XVI. 

be quieted, though pleasure itself were his physician, and the whole world 
his minstrel. Domino privante suo gaudio, quid esse potest in gaudium V^ — • 
When God withholds his music and peace, what can make the heart merry ? 
Polidore Virgil thus writes of Richard the Third's dream the night before 
Bosworth-field : that he thought all the devils in hell pulled and haled him, 
in most hideous and ugly shapes ; and concludes of it at last : Id credo, non 
fuit somnium, sed coiiscientia scelerum, — I do not think it was so much his 
dream as his wicked conscience that brought those terrors. When this evil 
spirit comes to a wicked Saul, let him go to his merriest good-fellows, beguile 
at once the time and himself with plays and sports, feast away Ms cares at his 
own table, or bury them together with his wits at a tavern : alas ! these are 
piteous shifts, weaker than walls of paper. 

Sleep cannot make his conscience sleep ; perhaps the very dreams are fear- 
ful. It will not leave thee till it hath shewed thee thy hell ; no, not when 
it hath shewed thee it, will it leave thee quiet. The more thou offerest to 
dam up this current, the more ragingly it swells and gusheth over the resist- 
ing banks. This wounded conscience runs, like the stricken deer vdth the 
arrow of death in the ribs, from thicket to thicket, from shelter to shelter, 
but cannot change her pain with her place. The wound rankles in the soul, 
and the longer it goes on, the worse still it festers. Thus sin, that spake thee 
so fair at her inviting to the banquet, now presents to thy wicked soul her 
true form, and plays the makebate betwixt God and thee, betvdxt thee and 
thyself. So long as security hath kept thee sleeping in thy delighted im- 
pieties, this quarrel is not commenced. The mortalest enemies are not always 
in pitched fields one against another. 

This truce holds some till their deathbeds ; neither do they ever complain 
till their complaints can do them no good. For then at once, the sick car- 
case, after many tossings and turnings to find the easiest side, moans his un- 
abated anguish ; and the sicker conscience, after trial of many shifts, too late 
feeleth and confesseth her unappeased torment. So Cain, Judas, Nero, in 
vain seek for foreign helps when their executioner is within them. The 
wicked man cannot want furies so long as he hath himself. Indeed, the soul 
may fly from the body, not sin from the soul. An impatient Judas may 
leap out of the private hell in himself into the common pit below, as the 
boiling fishes out of the caldron into the flame ; but the gain hath been the 
addition of a new hell without them, not the riddance of the old hell witliin 
them. The worm of conscience doth not then cease her oiEce of gnawing, 
when the fiends begin their office of torturing. Both join their forces to 
make the dissolutely wicked desolately wretched. If this man be not in the 
depth of hcl], deeply miserable, there is none. 

Lo now the shot at the devil's banquet ! A reckoning must be paid, and 
this is double : — (1.) The earnest in this life; (2.) The full payment in the 
life to come. The earnest is, whUes hell is cast into the wicked ; the full 
satisfaction is, when the wicked shall be cast into hell. Rev. xx. 15, 'Who- 
soever was not fuund written in the book of life was cast into the lake of 
fire.' I will take leave to amplify both these a little further : — 

(1.) The earnest is the horror of an evil conscience, which sparkles with 
the begiiniing of future torments. I know that some feel not this in the 
j)ri(le of their vanities, or at least will not seem to feel it. Some ' whorish 
ioieheads ' can outface their sins, and laugh them out of countenance, Jer, 
iii. 3 ; wide gorges, th;it can swallow peijuries, bloodiness, adulteries, usuries, 
extortions, without trouble. But it may be, the heart doth not laugh with 
* Cyril. 



Pro V. IX. IS.] the fatal banquet. 241 

the look, 2 Cor. v. 12. He dares be a hypocrite that durst be a villain. 
If he would speak truth of himself, he would testify that his thoughts will 
not afford him sleep, uor his sleep afford him rest; but whiles his senses are 
bound, his sin is louse. No command of reason can quiet the tempest in hi.s 
heart. No son of Sceva, no help of the world, can cast out this devil. The 
blood of the body, often being stopped in the issue at the nostrils, bui-sts unt 
at the moutli, or finds way into the stomach. The conscience thus wounded 
will bleed to death, if the blood of Jesus Christ do not stanch it. 

'Think of this, ye that forget God,' Ps. I. 22, and are only indulgent to 
yourselves : the time shall come you shall remember God, neither to your 
thanks nor ease, and would forget yourselves. Hajipy were it for you, if you, 
having lost your God, could also lose yourselves ! But you cannot hide your- 
selves from yourselves. Conscience will neither be blinded in seeking, nor 
bribed in speaking. You shall say unto it, as that wicked Ahab to Kli;us, 
1 Kings xxi. 20, ' Ha^t thou found me, O thou mine enemy 1 ' Yet, alas ! 
all this is but the earnest. A hell, I may call it, and a deep hell ; and, a.s I 
may say, a little smoke reeking out of that fiery pit, whereby the afflicted 
may give a guess at hell, as Pythagoras guessed at the stature of Hercules 
by the length of his foot. But else, par nulla Jiff mn gehenna', — nothing can 
truly resemble hell. 

(2.) The earnest is infinitely .short of the total sum. Matt, xviii. 31, 
' And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, tUl he should 
pay all that was due unto him.' The guest must endure a death not dying, 
live a life not li^dng : no torment ends without the beginning of a worse. 
The sight is afflicted with darkness and ugly devils ; the hearing with 
shrieks and horrible cries ; the smelling with noisome stenches ; the taste 
with ravenous hunger and bitter gall ; the feeling with intolerable, yet un- 
quenchable fire. Thousands pointing at, not one among thousands 2)itying, 
the distressed wretch. I know this earth is a dungeon in regard of heaven, 
yet a heaven in respect of hell ; we have misery enough here, it is mercy to 
what is there. Think of a gloomy, hideous, and deep lake, full of pestilent 
damps and rotten vapours, as thick as clouds of pitch, more palpable than 
the fogs of Egypt, that the eye of the smi is too dull to pierce them, and his 
licat to weak to dissolve them. Add hereunto a lire flashing in the repro- 
bate's face, Avhich shall yield no more light than with a glimpse to shew him 
the torments of others, and others the torments of liimself ; yet withal, of so 
violent a burning, that, should it glov/ on mountains of steel, it would melt 
them like hills of snow. 

This is the guest's reckoning : a sore, a sour payment, fur a short and 
scarce sweet banquet. All his senses have been pleased, now they are all 
plagued. Instead of perfumes and fragrant odours, a sulphurous stench shall 
strike up into his nostrils ; instead of his lascivious Delilahs, that fathomed 
him in the arms of lust, behold adders, toads, serpents, crawluig on liis 
bosom ; instead of the Dorian music ciianuing Ids ears, mandrakes and 
night-ravens still shrieking to them the rcverberatuig groans of ever and never 
dymg companions, tolling their funeral — not final — knells and yells round 
about him ; instead of wanton ki.sses, snakes ever suckhig at his breath, and 
galling his fle.sli with their never-blunted stings. 

Think of this feast, you riotous feasters in sin. There is a place called 
hell, wluther, after the general and last a.ssizes, the condcnnied shall ha 
sent through a black way, — death Ls l)nt a shiulow to it, — \\\i\\. many a sigh 
and sob, and groans, to those cursed fiends that must be their tormentors, as 
they have been their tempters. Behold now a new feast, a fatal, a final one. 
VOL. L Q 



242 THE FATAL BANQUET. [SeRMON XVI. 

To .sui) in the vault of darimcss with the princes mid .subjects of hoiTor, at 
the table of vengeance, in the chair of desjieration : where the difference 
on earth betwixt master and .servant, drudge and commander, shall be quite 
abolished ; except some atheistical Machiavel, or traitorous Seminary, or some 
bloody delegate of the Inquisition, be admitted the upper end of the table. 
But otherwise there is no regard of age, beauty, riches, valour, learning, 
birth. The usurer hath not a cushion more than his broker. There is not 
the breadth of a bench between Herod and his parasites. The Pope him- 
self hath no easier a bed than the poorest mass-priest. Corinthian Lais 
speeds no better than her chambermaid. The cardinal hath not the upper 
hand of his pander. There is no priority between the plotter and the intel- 
ligencer, between the vestal and the nun, between the proud prodigal and 
his unconscionable creditor. 

Indeed, the greatest sinner shall have the greatest punishment; and he 
that hath been a principal guest to the devil on earth, shall — and that on 
earth were a strange privilege — hold his place in hell : Rev. xviii. 6, 7, ' Re- 
ward her even as she rewarded you, and double unto her double according 
to her works : in the cup which she hath filled fill to her double. How 
much she hath glorified herself, and lived deliciously, so much torment and 
sorrow give her.' Dives, that fed so heartily on this bread of iniquity, and 
drank so deep draughts of the waters of sin, reserves his superiority in tor- 
ment that he had in pleasure. Behold, he craves, with more floods of scald- 
ing tears than ever Esau shed for the blessing, but ' one drop of water to cool 
his tongue,' and could not be allowed it, Luke xvi. 25. But what if all the 
rivers in the south, all the waters in the ocean, had been granted him, his 
tongue would still have withered and smarted with heat, himself still crying, 
in the language of hell, a Non sufficit, — It is not enough ! Or what if his 
tongue had been cased, yet his heart, liver, lungs, bowels, arms, legs, should 
stUl have fried ! 

Thus he that ate and drank with superfluity, the purest flour of the wheat^ 
the reddest blood of the grape, his body kept as well from diseases as soft 
linen and fine raiment could preserve it, here finds a fearful alteration : from 
the table of surfeit, to the table of torment; from feeding on junkets, to gnaw 
his own flesh; from bowls of wine, to the want of cold water; from the soft 
folds of fine silks, to the winding lashes of furies; from chains of gold for 
ornament, to chains of iron for torment ; from a bed of down, to a bed of 
flames; from laughing among his companions, to howling with de\ils; from 
having the. poor begging at his gates, to beg himself, and that, as that rich 
man, for one drop of water. Who can express the horror and misery of this 
guest? 

' Non mihi si coutum liugute sint, oraquo centum, 
Fen-ea vox, omnes sceleruni compreuderc formas, 
Omnia pocnarum perciu-rere nomina possim.' * 

' No heart of man can think, no tongue can tell. 
The direful pains ordain'd and felt in hell.' 

Now sorrows meet at the guest's heart as at a feast; all the furies of hell 
leap on the table of his conscience. Thought calls to fear, fear to horror, 
lion-or to despair, dcsjiair to torment, torment to extremity — all to eternity : 
Conic aTid help to afllict this wretch. All the parts of his body and soul 
leave their natural and wonted uses, and .S})end their times in wretchedness 
and confusion. He runs through a thousand deaths, and cannot die. Heavy 
* iEneid, vi. 



PrOV. IX. 18.] THE FATAL BANQUET. 243 

irons arc locked on him : all his lights and delights are put out at once, ilo 
hatli no soul capable of comfort. And though his eyes distil like foxuitains, 
yet God is now inexorable: his miUimus is without bail, and the prison can 
never be broken. God Avill not hear now, that might not be heard befora 

That you may conceive things more spiritual and remote by passions 
nearer to sense, suppose that a man, being gloriously robed, deliciously 
feasted, prince-like served, attended, honoured, and set on the proudest 
height of pleasure that ever mortality boasted, should, in one unsuspected 
moment, be tumbled doAvn to a bottom more full of tme miseries th;ui his 
promontory was of false delights; and there be rmged about with all the 
gory murderers, black atheists, sacrilegious church-robbers, and incestuous 
ravishers, that have ever disgorged their poison on earth, t<j reassume it in 
hell : nay, add further to this supposition, that this depth he is thrown into 
was no better than a vast charnel-house, hung round with lamps burnmg 
blue and dim, set in hollow corners, whose gUmmeruig serves to discover the 
hideous torments; all the ground, instead of green rushes, strewed with 
funeral rosemary and dead men's bones ; some corpses standing ui)right in 
their knotted winding-sheets, others rotted in their coffins, which yawn wide 
to vent their stench; there the bare ribs of a father that begat hiiu, here the 
hollow skull of a mother that bare him ; — how direfid and amazing are these 
things to sense ! 

Or if imagination can give being to a more fearful place, that, or rather 
worse than that, is hell. If a poor man, suddenly starting out of a golden 
slumber, should see his house flammg about him ; liis loving -wife and loved 
infants breathing their spirits to heaven through the mercUess fire; himself 
infringed with it, calling for despaired succour; the miserable churl, his next 
neighbour, not vouchsafing to answer, when the putting forth of an arm 
might save him ; — such shall be their miseries in hell, and not an angel nor 
a saint shall refresh them with any comfort. These are all but shadows, 
nay, not shadows, of the infernal depth here expressed. You hear it; fear 
it, fly it, scape it. Fear it by repentance, fly it by your faith, and you shall 
scajje it by God's mercy. 

This is their poena sensus, positive punishment. There is also pcena damni 
to be considered, their privative punishment. They have lost a place on 
earth, whose joy was temporal; they have missed a place in heaven, whose 
joy is eternal. Now they find that ' a dinner of green herbs, with God's 
love, is better than a stalled ox, and his hatred withal,' Prov. xv. 17. A fejvst 
of .salads, or Daniel's pulse, is more cherisliing, with mercy, than Belshaz- 
zar's banquet without it. Now they find >Solomou'a sermon true, that though 
' the bread of deceit be sweet to a man,' yet the time Is come that ' the 
mouth is filled with gi'avel,' Prov. xx. 1 7. No, no ; ' the blessing of God 
only maketh fat,' Prov. xxviii. 2.5; and 'he addeth no sorrow imto it.' 
Waters the A\-icked dcsii'ed, and bread they lusted after ; behold, after their 
secure sleep and dreamed joys on earth, with what hungry souls do they 
awake in hell ! 

But what are the bread and the waters they might have enjoyed A\itli the 
saints in heaven? Such as .shall never be dried up, Isa. Iviii. 11. 'In thy. 
presence is the fulness of joy; and at tliy right hand are pleasures for ever- 
more,' Ps. xvi. 11, Happy is the undeiiled soul, who is innocent from 'the 
great offence;' all whose sins arc washed 'as white as snow,' in that blood 
wluch alone ' is able to purge the conscience from dead works!' ITeb. ix. 14. 
'He that walketh righteously,' (kc, 'he shall dwell on high : his place of 
defence shall be the muuitioiis of rocks : bread shall be gi\cn him ; his waters 



^ii THE FATAL BANQUET, [SeRMON XVI. 

shall be sure,' Isa. xxxiii. 15, 16. His joys are certain and stable; no alter- 
ation, no alternation, shall impair them. The wicked, for the slight break- 
fast of this world, lose the Lamb's supper of glory, Rev. xix. 9 ; where these 
four things concur that make a perfect feast : Dies lectus, locus electus, coetus 
bene collectus, apparatus non neglectus, — A good time, eternity; a good place, 
heaven; a good compan)', the saints; good cheer, glory. 

(1.) God himself is the feast-maker: he is landlord of the world, and 'fill- 
eth every living thing with goodness.' The eagles and lions seek their meat 
of God. But though all the sons of Jacob have good cheer from Joseph, yet 
Benjamin's mess exceeds. Esau shall have the prosperity of the earth, but 
Jacob goes away with the blessing. Ishmael may have outward favours, but 
the inheritance belongs to Isaac. The king favoureth all his subjects, but 
they of his court stand in his presence, and partake of liis pruicely graces. 
God's bounty extends to the wicked also, but the saints shall only sit at his 
table in heaven. This is that feaster qui est siiper omnia, et sine quo nulla 
sunt omnia. ' Of him, and through him, and to him, are all things : to whom 
be glory for ever,' Rom. xi. 36. 

(2.) The cheer is beyond all sense, all science : 1 Cor. ii. 0, ' Eye hath not 
seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the tilings 
God hath prepared for them that love him.' The eye sees much, the ear 
hears more, the heart conceives most; yet all short of apprehension, nuuli 
more of comprehension, of these pleasures. Therefore ' enter thou into thy 
Master's joy,' for it is too great to enter into thee. 

(3.) The company is excellent: the glorious presence of the blessed Trinity — 
the Father that made us, the Son that bought us, the Holy Ghost that brought 
us to this place; the holy and unspotted angels, that rejoiced at our conversion 
on earth, much more at our consolation in heaven ; all the patriarchs, pro- 
phets, saints, before the law, in the law, in the gospel ; the full communion 
of saints. Here, the more the merrier, yea, and the better cheer too. Oh 
the sweet melody of hallelujahs, which so many glorified voices shall sing to 
God in heaven ! the hoarseness of sin and the harshness of punishment beuig 
separated from us with a bill of everlasting divorce. 

(4.) Admirable is the banqueting-place : the high court of heaven, where 
our apparel shall be such as beseemeth the attendants on the King of Idngs, 
even ' the fashion of the glorious body of Christ,' PhU. iii. 21. The pm-est 
things ax-e placed highermost. The earth, as grossest, is put in the lowest 
room, the water above the earth, the air above the water, the tire abt)ve 
the air, the spheres of heaven above any of them ; and yet the place where 
tliis feast is kept is above them all, the lieaven of heavens. TalvC here a 
slight relish of the cheer in God's kingdom, where your welcome shall be 
answerable to all the rest : ' Eat, O my friends ; and make you merry, O 
well-beloved,' Cant. v. 1. And then, as those that have tasted some delicate 
dish find other plain meats but unpleasant, so you that have tasted of hea- 
venly things cannot but contemn the best worldly pleasures. And therefore 
as some dainty gaiost, knowing there is so pleasant fare to come, let us re- 
serve our ap})etitcs for that, and not suff"er ourselves to be cloyed with the 
. coarse diet of the world. Thus as we fast on the eves that we may feast on 
the holidays, let us be sure that, after our abstinence from the surfeits of 
sin, we .shall be everlastingly fed and fatted with the mercies of God. 
Which resolution the Lord grant us here ; which banquet the Lord give ua 
hereafter ! Amen. 



THE FOOL AND HIS SPORT. 



FooU male a mock at sin. — Pro v. XIV. 9. 

The Proverbs of Solomon are so many select aphorisms, or divinely moral 
says, without any mutual dependence one upon another. Therefore to .study 
a coherence, wei'C to force a marriage between unwilling parties. Tlie words 
re.ad s])end tliemsclves on a description of two thing.s — I. The fool ; and, II. 
His sport. The fool is the wicked man ; his sport, pastime, or bauble is 
sin. Mocking is the medium or connexion that brings together the fool and 
sin. Thus he makes himself merry ; they meet in mocking. The ' fool makes 
a mock at sin.' 

I. Fools. — The fool is the wicked. An ignorant heart is always a sinful 
heart, and a man without knowledge is a man without grace. So Tanuir to 
Amnon under his ravisliing hands : 2 Sam. xiii. 13, 'Do not this folly;' if 
thou docst it, ' thou slialt be as one of the fools in Israel.' Ignorance cainiot 
excitsare it toto ; wilful, not d, tanto. 2 Thcss. i. 8, ' Christ shall come in liam- 
ing fire, rendering vengeance to them that know not God.' The state of 
these fools is fearful. Like hooded hawks, they are easily carried by the 
infernal falconer to hell. Their lights are out, how shall their house scape 
robbing? These fools have a knowledge, but it is to do evil, Jer. iv. 22. 
They have also a knowledge of good, but not scicntiatn oppmhatiDiiix, — they 
know, but they refuse it. So God justly quits them ; for though he know 
tliem ad sdentiam, he will not know them ad approlaiionem, but gives them 
a JJiscedite, nescio vos : Matt. vii. 23, ' I know you not : depart from me, ye 
workers of iniquity.' A man may be a fool two Avays : by knowing too 
little, or too much. 

1. ]3y knoAving too little : when he knoweth not those things whereof lie 
cannot be ignorant, and do well. 1 Cor. ii. 2, ' I determined not to know 
anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified.' But every man 
saith he knows Christ, If men knew Christ's love in dying for them, they 
would love him above all tlung.s. How do they know him that love their 
money above him 1 Nemo vere novit Christum, qui noii vere amat Christum, 
— No man knows Christ truly that lf)ves him not sincerely. If men knew 
Christ, that he .should be judge of (piick and dead, durst they live so lewdly 1 
Non novd Christum qui iion odit pc.ccntum, — He never knew Christ that 
doth not hate hii([uity. Some attrilnite too much to themselves, as if they 
would have a share with Christ in their own salvation. Ncscinnt ct Chridum 



246 THE FOOL AND HIS SPORT. [SeRMON XVIL 

et sdpsos, — Tliey are ignorant of both Christ and themselves. Others lay- 
too much on Christ, all the burden of their sins ; which they can with all 
possible voracity swallow down, and with blasphemy vomit up again upon 
him. But they know not Christ who thus seek to divide aquam a scm- 
(/uine, — his blood from his water; and they shall ftiil of justification in 
lieaven that refuse sanctification upon earth. 

2. By knowing too much. When a man presumes to know more than he 
ought, his Icnowledge is apt to be pursy and gross, and must be kept low. 
iioni. xii. IG, * Mind not high things,' saith the Apostle. Festus slandered 
Paid, Acts xxvi. 24, that ' much learning had made him mad.' Indeed, it 
might have done, if Paul had been as proud of his learning as Festus was of 
his honour. This is the 'knowledge that puffeth up,' 1 Cor. viii. 1. It 
troubles the brain, like undigested meat in the stomach, or like the scum 
that seethes into the broth. To avoid this folly, Paul forbids us' to ' be wise 
in our own conceits,' Rom. xii. IG : whereof I find two readings, ' Be not 
wise in yourselves ; ' and ' Be not wise to yourselves.' 

Not in yourselves. Conjure not your wit into the circle of your own secret 
profit. We account the simple, fools ; God accounts the crafty, fools. He 
tliat thinks himself wise is a fool ijiso facto. It was a modest speech that 
fcU from the philosopher :* Si qimndo fatuo deledari volo, non est mihi longe 
qmerendtis ; vie video. Therefore Christ pronounced his woes to the Phari- 
.sees, his doctrines to the people. The first entry to wisdom is scire quod 
nescias, — to know thy ignorance. Sobriety is the measure for knowledge, as 
the gomer was for manna. Curiosity is the rennet that turns our milk into 
curds. 

Not to yourselves. ' Let thy fountain be dispersed abroad,' saith the wisest 
king, Prov. V. IG; communicate thy knovv ledge. Matt. v. 15, Christians 
must be Ukc lights, that waste themselves for the good of those in God's 
liouse. Scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter, — He that will be 
Avise only to himself takes the ready way to turn fool. Non licet habere pri- 
vatam, ne j^rivemur ea, — The closer we keep our knowledge, the likelier we 
are to lose it. Standing water soon puddles ; the gifts of the mind, if they 
be not employed, will be impaired. Every wicked man is a fool ; by com- 
paring tlieir properties : — 

(1.) It is a fool's property futura non prosjiicere, to have no foresight of 
future thmgs. So he may have from hand to mouth, he sings care away. 
So the grasshopper sings in harvest when the ant labours ; and bogs at 
Cliristmas when the ant sings. The wicked takes as little care what shall 
become of his soul, as the natural fool what shall become of his body. Modo 
j)oiiar, saith the epicure, — Let me have pleasure now ; ' It is better to a liv- 
ing dog than to a dead lion,' Eccles. ix. 4. They do not in fan- weather 
rcpaii' their house against storms; nor in time of peace provide spiritual 
armour against the day of war. They watch not ; therefore ' the day of the 
Lord shall come upon them as a thief in the night,' and spoil them of all 
tlioir pleasures. The main business of their soul is not thought of; nor 
dr(?ani they of an audit, till they be called by death away to thek reckoning. 

(2.) Jt is a fool's property to affect things hurtful to himself. L^ulit cum 
Kpinis, — he loves to be playing mth thorns. Neither yet q7(od nocuit, do- 
ctiii, hath that which hurt him taught him caution, but he more desperately 
desires his own mischief. The wicked do strongly appropriate to themselves 
this (piality. Cum illis ludunt, quoi illos loiduut, — They hover to dally with 
their own vexation who else would dote ou the world; and hover like 
* Son., Ep. xiii. 



PrOV. XIV. 9. J THE FOOL AND HIS SPORT. 247 

wasps about the gallipot, till for one lick of honey they be drowned in it. 
What is your ambition, O ye worlJ-affectors, saith Augustini.', but to be 
atiocted of the world l What do you seek, but per multa pencula pervenire 
adplura? per pi urima ad pessimal* — but through many dangers to find 
more ? through easier to find the worst of all ? Like that doting Venetian, 
for one kiss of that painted harlot, to live her perpetual slave. The world 
was therefore called the fool's paradise ; there he thmks to find heaven, and 
there he sells it to the devil. Noxia <pirerunt improhi, — ' They haste as a 
bird to the snare,' Prov. vii. 23. The devil doth but hold vanity as a sharp 
weapon against them, and they run full breast upon it. They need no ene- 
mies ; let them alone, and they will kill themselves. So the envious pines 
away his own marrow ; the adulterer poisons liis own blood ; the prodigal 
la\isheth his own estate ; the drunkard drowns his own vital spirit. Wicked 
men make war upon themselves with the engines of death. 

(3.) It is a fool's property to prefer triiics and toys before matters of 
worth and weight. The fool will not give his bauble for the king'.s ex- 
chequer. The wicked prefer bodies of dust and ashes to their soul of eternal 
substance ; this sin-corrupted and time-spent world, to the perfect and per- 
manent joys of heaven ; short pleasures to everlasting happiness ; a putf of 
fame before a solid weight of glory. What folly can be more pitiable, than 
to forsake corn for acorns ; a state of immortality for an apple, as Adam did ; 
a birthright, with all the privileges, for a mess of pottage, belly-cheer, as 
Esau did ; a Idngdom on earth, yea, in heaven too, for asses, as Saul did ; 
all portion in Christ, for bacon, as the Gcrgesites did, JNIatt. xxii. ; a royalty 
in heaven for a poor farm on earth, as the bidden guest did ! This is the 
worldling's folly : villa, boves, uxor, &c. — 

' Mundus, cura, caro, ccelum clauaere vocatis ; ' — 

To esteem grace and glory less than farms, oxen, wives ; manna than onions ; 
mercy than vanity ; God than idols. They may be fitly paralleled with the 
prodigal, Luke xv. He forsook, [1.] His father's house for a strange country: 
these the church, God's house, for the world ; a place wherein they should 
be strangers, and wherein, I am sure, they shall not be long dwellers. [2.] His 
father's inheritance for a bag of money : so these will not tarry for their 
heritage in heaven, but take the bags which Mammon thrusts into theu* 
hands on the present. Who but a fool will refuse the assured reversion of 
some great lordship, though expectant on the expiration of three lives, for 
a ready sum of money not enough to buy the least stick on the ground ? 
This is the worldling's fijlly, rather to take a piece of slip-coin in hand than 
to trast God for the invaluable mass of glory. [3.] He forsakes his lovuig 
friends for harlots, creatures of spoil and rapine : so these the company of 
saints for the sons of Belial; those that .sing praises, for those that roar 
blasphemies. [4.] Lastly, the bread in his fixther's house for hu.sks of beans : 
so these leave Christ, the true bread of life, for the draft' which the swine of 
this world puddle in. Here is then* folly, to fasten on transient delights, 
and to neglect the ' pleasures at the right hand of God for evermore,' Ps. 
xvi. 11. 

(4.) It is a fool's property to run on Ins course with precii)itation. Yet 
can he not outrun the wicked, whose ' driving is lilce Jehu's, the son oi 
Nimshi,' 2 Kings ix. 20 : he driveth as if he were mad ; as if he had re- 
ceived that commi.ssion, ' Salute no man by the way.' ' The wise man seetli 
the plague, and hideth himself; Init the fool rmineth on, and is punished/ 
♦ Confess., lib. iii. 



248 THE FOOL AND HIS SPOET. [SfiRMON XVII. 

Prov. xxvii. 12. He goes, he runs, he flies; as if God, that rides upon the 
■R-ings of the Avind, should uot overtake him. He may pass apace, for he is 
beuefited by the way ; wliich is smooth, without rubs, and down a hill, for 
heU is a bottom, Prov. xv. 24. Facilis descensus Averni. Haste might be 
good, if the way were good, and good speed added to it. But this is cursus 
celenimus prceter riam. He needs not run fast; for inniquam sero ad id 
venitur, ct quo nunquam receditur, — the fool may come soon enough to that 
place froui whence he must never return. Thus you see the rcspondency of the 
spiritual to the natural fool in their quaUties. Truly the wicked man is a fool. 
So Solomon expounds the one by the other : Eccles. vii. 17, ' Be not overmuch 
■wicked, neither be thou foolish ; Avhy shouldest thou die before thy time?' 

Fools. — Observe, this is plurally and indefinitely spoken. The number 
is not small ; siullonim plena sunt omnia. Christ's ' flock is little,' but Satan's 
kingdom is of large bounds. Flu-rima pessima, — vile things are ever most 
plentiful. Wisdom flies, like the rail, alone ; but fools, like partridges, by 
wbole coveys. There is but one truth, but iunuracrable errors; which 
should teach us — 

1. Not to ' follow a multitude in evil.' In civil actions it is good to do as 
the most ; in religious, to do as the best. It shall be but poor comfort in 
hell, socios habuisse doloris. Thou pleadest to the judge, I have done as 
others ; the judge answers, And thou shalt speed as others. 

2. To bless God that we are none of the many; as much f(3r our grace, 
whereby we difi"er from the fools of the Avorld, as for our reason, whureby 
we differ from the fools of natiire. 

Now as these fools are many, so of many kinds. There is the sad fool 
and the glad fool ; the haughty fool, and the naughty fool : — 

1. The sad or melancholy fool is the envious, that repines at his brother's 
good. An enemy to all God's favours, if they foil besides himself. A man 
of the worst diet ; for he consumes himself, and delights in pining, in re- 
phiing. He is ready to quarrel with God because his neighbour's flock scape 
the rot. He cannot endure to be happy, if with company. Therefore envy 
is called by Prosper,'"' de bono alter ius tabescentis animi cruciatus, — the 
vexation of a languishing mind, arising from another's welfare. Tantos in- 
mdus habet justce poence tortores, quantos invidiosus habuit laudatores, — So 
many as the envied hath praisers, hath the envious tormentors. 

2. The glad fool — I might say the mad fool — is the dissolute ; who, rather 
than he will want sport, makes goodness itself his minstrel. His mirth is to 
sully every virtue with some slander, and with a jest to laugh it out of 
fashion. His usual discourse is filled up with boasting parentheses of his old 
sins ; and though he cannot make himself merry with their act, he will with 
their report : as if he roved at this mark, to make himself worse than he is. 
If repentance do but proft'er him her service, he lacks her out of doors ; his 
mind is perpetually drunk ; and his body lightly dies, like Anacreon, with 
a grape in his throat. He is stung of that serpent, whereof he dies laughing. 

3. The haiif/h(// fool is the ambitious; who is ever climbing high towers, 
and never forecasting how to come down. Up he will, though he foil down 
headlong. He is weary of peace in the country, and therefore comes to seek 
ti-ouble at court, where he haunts great men, as his great spirit haunts him. 
When he receives many disappointments, he flatters himself still with suc- 
cess. His own fancy jiersuadcs him, as men do fools, to shoot away another 
aiTow, thereby to fhid the first ; so he loseth both. And, lastly, because his 
pride will admit of uo other punisher, he becomes his own torment ; and 

* Lib. iii. dc Virtut. ct Yitiis. 



Pr.OV. XIV. 9.] THE FOOL AND HIS SPORT. 219 

having at first lost bis honesty, he will now also lose his wits : so truly be- 
comes a fool. 

4. The naiighty fool is the covetous. This is the folly that Solomon ' saw 
under the sun.' You heard before of a mcrrif fool, but the very fool of all 
is the avarous ; for he will lose his friends, starve his body, danui liis soul, 
and have no pleasure for it. So saith the prophet, Jer. xvii. 11, 'Ho shall 
leave his riches in the midst of his days, and at his end shall be a fool.' He 
wastes himself to keep his goods from wiuste ; he eats the worst meat, and 
keeps his stomach over chiding, lie longs, like a fool, for everything lie 
sees; and at last may habere quod volitU, non quad vull, — have what he 
desired, never what he desires. He fears not the day of judgment, except 
for preventing the date of some great obligation. You would think it were 
petty treason to call a rich man Jool; but He doth so that dares justify it : 
Luke xii. 20, 'Thou fool, this night shall they fetch away thy soul from 
thee ; then whose shall those things be which thou hiist provided V 

11. We have anatomised the fool ; let us behold his sport : ' lie maketh 
a mock at shi.' 

The fathers call this wjimum uradnm, and liinen. inferni, — the lowest 
degree of sin, and the very threshold of hell. It is ^edes ■pestilentUc, — * the 
scorner's chair,' Ps. i. 1, wherein the ungodly sits, blaspheming God and all 
goodness. Nemo fit repenie pessimus, — No man becomes worst at lirst. This 
is no sudden evil. Men are born sinful ; they make themselves profane. 
Through many degrees they climb to that height of impiety. This is an 
extreme progress, and almost the j<nirncy's end of wickedness. Improha 
lu'tari affectn. Thus Abner calls fighting a sport: 2 Sam. ii. 14, ' Let the 
young men arise and play before us.' ' They glory in their shame,' saith tlio 
Apostle, Phil. iii. 19; as if a condemned malefactor should boast of his 
halter. ' Fools make a mock at sin.' 

We shall the more clearly see, and more strongly detest, this senseless 
iniquity, if we consider the object of the fool's sport — sin. 

1. *S/7i, which is so contraiy to goodness; and though to man's cnn-upt 
nature pleasing, yet even abhorred of those sparks and cinders which the 
rust of sin hath not cpiite eaten out of our nature as the creation left it. 
The lewdest man, that loves Anckedness as heartily as the devil loves liun, 
yet hath some objurgations of his own heart; and because he will not con- 
demn his sin, his heart shall condemn him. The most reprol)ate wretch 
doth commit some contraconscient iniquities, and hath the contradiction of 
his own soul, by the remnants of reason left in it. If a lewd man had the 
choice to be one of those two emperors, Nero or Constantine ; who would 
not rather be a Constantine th.an a Nero 1 The most violent oppressor that 
is cruel to others, yet had rather that others should be kind to him than 
cruel. The bloodiest murderer desires that othei-s should u.se him gently, 
rather than strike, kill, or butcher him. Nature itself prefers liglit to dark- 
ness ; and the mouth of a sorceress is driven to confes.s, Video meliora, pro- 
bofpie. The most rigid usurer, if he should come before a severe judge, 
would be glad of mercy, though himself will shew none to lus poor boiul- 
men. 

' 111 bcno vivendo requiem natura fatcri 
Cogitur.' 

It is then first a contranatural thing to 'make a mock at sin.* 

2. Sin, which sensibly brings on present judgments. 'Thou art made 
whole : sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee,' John v. 11. Sui 
procured the former, and that was grievous — thu'ty-eight }e;irs bedrid : sin 



250 THK FOOL AND HIS SPORT. [SeRMON XVII. 

is able to draw on a greater punishment; ' Lest a worse thing come unto thee.' 
If I should turn this holy book from one end to the other ; if I should 
search all fathers, yea, all writers, whether divine or human, I should evince 
this conclusion, that sin hales on judgment. Fedisseqiius sceleris supplicium. 
If there be no fear of impiety, there is no hope of impunity. Our Machiar- 
vellian politicians have a position, that summa scelera indpiimtur cum peri- 
culo, peraguntur cum jyrcemio, — the greatest wickedness is begun with danger, 
gone through with reward. Let the philosopher stop their mouths : Scelus 
aliquis tutum, nemo securum tulit, — Some guilty men have been safe, none 
ever secure. 

This every eye must see. Let adultery plead that nature is the encourager 
and dirccter of it, and that she is unjust to give him an affe(;tion, and to 
bar him the action ; yet we see it plagued, to teach us that the sin is of a 
greater latitude than some imagine it : unclean, foedifragous, perjured. 
Broad impudence, contemplated bawdery, an eye fidl of whores, are things 
but jested at : the committers at last find them no jest, when God pours 
vengeance on the body, and wrath on the naked conscience. 

Let drunkenness stagger in the robes of good-fellowship, and shroud itself 
under the wings of merriment, yet we see it have the punishment, even in 
this life. It corrupts the blood, drowns the spirits, beggars the purse, and 
enrichcth the carcase with surfeits : a present judgment waits itpon it. He 
that is a thief to others is at last a thief also to himself, and steals away his 
own life. God doth not ever forbear sin to the last day, nor shall the bloody 
ruffian stiU escape ; but his o\m. blood shall answer some in present, Ps. Iv. 
23, and his soul the rest eternally. Let the Seminary pretend a warrant 
from the Pope to betray and murder princes, and build his damnation on 
their tetrical grounds, which have pavum rationis, minus honestatis, religionis 
nihil, — little reason, less honesty, no rehgion ; yet we see God reveals their 
malicious stratagems, and buries them in their own pit. Percy's* head now 
stands sentinel where he was once a pioneer. 

If a whole land flow with wickedness, it escapes not a deluge of vengeance. 
For England, have not her bowels groaned under the heavy pestilence ? If 
the plague be so common in our mouths, how should it not be common in 
our streets ? With that plague wheremth we curse others, the just God 
curscth us. We shall find in that imperial state of Eome, that till Constan- 
tino's time almost every emperor died by treason or massacre ; after the re- 
ceiving of the gospel, none except that revolter Julian. Let not sin then be 
made a sport or jest, which God will not forbear to punish even in this life. 
3. But if it bring not present judgment, it is the more fearful. The less 
punishment Avickedness receives here, the more is behind. God strikes those 
here whom he means to spare hereafter ; and corrects that son which ho 
purposeth. to save. But ho scarce meddles with them at all whom he in- 
tends to beat once for all. The almond-tree is forborne them who arc be- 
queathed to the boiling pot. There is no rod to scourge such in present, so 
they go with whole sides to hell. The purse and the fiesh scapes, but the 
soul pays for it. This is misericordia puniens, a grievous mercy, when 
men are spared for a wliHe that they may be spilled for ever. This made 

* Thomas Percy, cousin of the Earl of Northumberland, was the chief conspirator iu 
the Gunpowder Plot. It was he who rented the cellar under the Parliament-house, 
procured the powder from Holland, and was engaged to kill the young Duke of Yoi-k 
as s(K)n as the explosion should take place. On the failure of the project, he and some 
of his accomplices flod to Hulbuach, in Staffordshire, where he was killed after a des- 
perate defence. It would appear from the text that his head was placed in front of 
the Parliament-house, though I do not find this mentioned ia the histories.--ED. 



PrOV. XIV. 9.] THE FOOL AND HIS SPORT. 201 

that good saint cr}', Lord, liore allUct, cat, burn, torture mc, ut in aiermini 
parcas, ' — so that for ever thou wilt save mc. No sorrow troubles the 
wicked, no disturbance embitters their pleasui-es; but * rcnieml)er,' saith 
Abraham to the merry-lived rich man, ' thou loeii delighted, but thou art 
tormented,' Luke xvi. 25. Tarditas supplicii (jnivitate ptnsatur ; and he will 
strike with iron hands that came to strike with leaden feet. Tuli, nunquid 
semper foxim ? No ; their hell-lire shall be so much the hotter, as God 
hath been cool and tardy in the execution of his vengeance. This is a judg- 
ment for sin that comes in\isible to the world, insensible to him on whom it 
lights : to be ' given over to a reprobate mhid, to a hard and impenitent 
heart,' Rom. i. 2S, ii. 5. If anything be vengeance, this is it. I have read 
of plagues, ftiminc, death, come tempered with love and mercy : thi.s never 
but ill anger, ilany taken with this spiritual lethargy, sing in taverns, that 
should howl with dragons ; and sleep out Sabbaths and sermons, whose 
awaked souls would rend their hearts with anguish. ' Fools,' then, only ' make 
a mock at sin.' 

4. Kiin, that shall at last be laid heavy on the conscience : the lighter the 
burden was at first, it shall be at last the more ponderous. The wicked con- 
science may for a while lie asleep ; but tranquiliitas ista tempestas est,\ — this 
calm is the greatest storm. The mortalest enemies are not evermore in 
pitched fields, one against the other ; the guilty may have a seeming truce, 
true peace they cannot have. A man's debt is not paid by slumbering ; oven 
while thou sleepest, thy arrearages run on. If thy conscience be quiet with- 
out good cause, remember that cedat ivjustissivia jxur Jusiissimo hello, — a just 
war is better than unjust peace. The conscience is like a fire under a i)i]e 
of green wood — long ere it burn, but once kindled, it flames beyond quench- 
mg. It is not pacifiable whiles sin is within to vex it ; the hand will not 
cease throbbing so long as the thorn is within the flesh. In vain he striveth 
to feast away cares, sleep out thoughts, drmk down sorrows, that hatli his 
tormentor within him. When one violently ofi'ers to stop a source of blood 
at the nostril, it finds a way down the throat, not without hazard of sutft)oa- 
tion. The stricken deer runs into the thicket, and there breaks ofl' the 
arrow ; but the head sticks still within him, and rankles to death. Flitting 
and shifting ground gives way to further anguish. The unappeased con- 
science wiU not leave him till it hath shewed Mm hell ; nor then neither. 
Let then this fool know, that his now seared conscience shall be quickeneil ; 
his deathbed shall smart for this ; and his amazed he;irt shall rue his old 
wilful adjournings of repentance. How many have there raved on the thought 
of their old sins, which in the days of their hot lust they would not think 
sms ! Let not, then, the ' fool make a mock at sin.' 

5. Si7i, which hath another direful effect of greater latitude, and compre- 
hensive of all the rest : divinam incitat iram, — it provokes God to anger. 
The ' wrath of a king is a mes.senger of death ; ' what is the wrath of the 
King of kings ! ' For our God is a consumhig lire,' Ileb. xii. 29. If the 
fire of his anger be once tliorougldy incensed, all the rivers in the .south are 
not able to quench it. What pillar of the earth, or foundation of heaven, 
can stand when he will shake them ? lie that in his wrath can open the 
jaws of earth to swallow thee, .sluice out floods from the sea to drown thee, 
rain down fire from heaven to consume thee. Sodom, the old world, Korah, 
drank of these wrathful vials. Or, to go no further, he can set at jar the ele- 
ments within thee, by whose peace thy spirits are held together ; drown thee 
with a dropsy bred in thy own flesh ; burn thee with a ]K\stilence begotten 

* Aug, t Jerom. 



252 THE FOOL AND HIS SPOET. [Seemon XVIL 



in 



thy own blood ; or hnry thee in the earthly gnave of thine own melan- 
choly. Oh, it is a fearful thing ' to fall into the hands of the living God ! ' 
It is then wretchedly done, thou fool, to jest at sin that augers God, who is 
able to anger all the veins of thy heart for it. 

6. Sin, which was punished even in heaven. Auf/ell detniduntur propter 
peccatuvi, — 2 Pet. ii. \, ' God spared not the angels that sinned, but cast 
them down to hell.' It coiUd bring down angels from lieaven to hell ; how 
much more men from earth to hell 'I If it could corrupt such glorious 
natures, what jiower hath it against dust and ashes ? Art thou better or 
dearer than the angels were 1- Doest thou flout at that which condemned 
them 1 Go thy ways, make thyself merry with thy sins; mock at that which 
threw down angels. Unless ' God give thee repentance, and another mind, 
thou shalt speed as the lost angels did ; for God may as easily cast thee 
from the earth as he did them from heaven. 

7. Sin, which God so loathed that he could not save his own eleet be- 
cause of it, but by killing his own Son. It is such a disease that nothing 
but the blood of the Son of God could cure it. He cured us by taking the 
receipts himself which we should have taken. He is first cast into a sweat ; 
such a sweat as never man but he felt, when the bubbles were drops of 
blood. Would not sweating serve ? He comes to incision ; they pierce his 
liands, his feet, his side, and set life itself abroach. He must take a potion 
too, as bitter as their malice could make it, compounded of vinegar and gall. 
And lastly, he must take a stranger and stronger medicine than all the rest — 
he must die for our sins. Behold his harmless hands pierced for the sins 
our harmful hands had committed! his undefiled feet, that never stood in 
the ways of evil, nailed for the errors of our paths ! He is spitted on, to 
purge away our uncleanness ; clad in scornful robes, to cover our nakedness ; 
wliipped, that we might escape everlasting scourges. He would thirst, that 
our soids might be satisfied ; the Eternal would die, that we might not die 
etemaUy. He is content to bear all his Father's wrath, that no piece of that 
burden might be imposed upon us ; and seem as forsaken a while, that we by 
him might be received for ever. Behold his side become bloody, his heart 
dry, his face pale, his arms stiff, after that the stream of blood had run down 
to his wounded feet. Oh, think if ever man felt sorrow like him, or if he felt 
any sorrow but for sin ! 

Now, is that sin to be laughed at that cost so much torment ? Did the 
pressure of it lie so heavy on the Son of God, and doth a son of man make 
light of it ? Did it wring from him sweat, and blood, and tears, and uncon- 
ceivable groans of an afflicted spirit ; and dost thou, O fool, jest at it 1 
Alas ! that which put our infinite Redeemer, God and man, so hard to it, 
must needs sw\allow up and confound thee, poor sinful wretch ! It pressed 
him so iar that he cried out, to the amazement of earth and heaven, ' M}' 
God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me 1 ' Shall he cry for them, and 
shall we laugh at them % Thou mockest at thy oppressions, oaths, sacrileges, 
lusts, frauds ; for these he groaned. Thou scornest his gospel preached ; he 
wept for thy scorn. Thou knowest not, O fool, the price of sin ; thou must 
do, if thy Saviour did not for thee. If he suffered not this for thee, thou must 
suffer it for thyself Passio aterna erit in te, si jxissio jEterni non ernt pro 
tc, — An eternal passif)n .shall be upon thee, if the Eternal's passion were not 
for thee. Look on thy Saviour, and make not ' a mock at sin.' 

8. Lastly, Sin shall be punished with death. You know what death is 
the wages of it, Horn. vi. 2.'} ; not only the first", but ' the second deatli,' Ilev. 
XX. G. Inexpressible are those torments, when a reprobate would give all 



PrOV. XTV. 9.] THE FOOL AND HIS SPORT. 253 

the pleasures that ho ever enjoyed for one drop of water to cool his tongue : 
where there shall be unquenchable fire to burn, not to give li;:;ht, s<ave a 
glimmering ; nd agfjravationem, ut videant unde doltaut : hdu ad consola- 
tionem, ne videant xinde gandeant,* — to shew them the torments of others, 
and others the torments of themselves. 

But I cease urging this terror ; and had rather win you by the love oi God 
than by his wrath and justice. Neither need I a stronger argument to dis- 
suade you from sin than by his passion that died fur us being enemies. For 
if the agony, anguish, and hoart-blood of Jesus Christ, shod for our sins, will 
not move us tt) repentance, we are in a desperate case. Now, therefore, I fitly 
leave Paul's adjuration, so sweetly tempered, in your bosoms ; commending 
that to your consciences, and your consciejiccs to God : Rom. xii. 1 ,' I be- 
seech you, brctlu-en, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a 
living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God.' 

* LsiiL lib. L de Sum, Bon. 



MYSTICAL BEDLAM; 

OB, 

THE WOELI) OF MADMEN 



Tlie heart of the sons of men is full of evil, and madness is in their heart 
while they live : and after that they go to the dead. — Eccles. IX. 3, 

The subject of the discourse is man ; and the speech of him hath three 
points in the text : — I. His comma ; II. His colon ; III. His period. I. 
' Men's hearts are full of evil ;' there is the comma. II. ' jMadness is in their 
hearts while they live;' there is the colon. III. Whereat not staying, 
* after that they go doAvn to the dead ;' and there is their period. The first 
begins, the second continues, the third concludes, their sentence. 

Here is man's setting forth, his peregrination, and his journey's end. I. 
At fir.st putting out, ' his heart is full of evil.' II. ' Madness is in his heart ' 
all his peregrmation, 'whiles they live.' III. His journey's end is the grave, 
' he goes to the dead.' 

I. Man is born from the womb, as an arrow shot from the bow. II. His 
flight through this air is wild, and full of madness, of indirect courses. III. 
The centre, where he lights, is the grave. 

I. His comma begins so harshly, that it promiseth no good consequence 
in the colon. II. The colon is so mad and inordinate, that there is small 
hope of the period. III. When both the premises are so fiiulty, the conclu- 
sion can never be handsome. Wickedness in the first proposition, madness 
in the second, the ergo is fearful ; the conclusion of all is death. 

So then, I. The beginning of man's race is full of evil, as if he stumbled 
at the thre.'ihokl. II. The further he goes, the worse ; madness is joined 
tenant in his heart witli life. III. At last, in his frantic flight, not looking 
to his feet, he drops into the pit, goes down to the dead. 

I. To begui at the uppermost stair of this gradual descent ; the comma of 
tliis tripartite sentence gives man's heart for a vessel. ^AHierein observe — 

1. The ow7iers of this vessel; juen, and derivatively, the sons of men. 

2. The vessel itself is earthen, a pot of God's making, and man's marring ; 
the heart. 

3. Tlie liquor it holds is evil; a defective, privative, abortive thing, not 
instituted, but destituted, by the absence of original goodness. 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 255 

4. The measure of this vosscrs pollution with ovil lif|uor. Jt is not 8aiil 
Bprinkled, not seasoned, with :i moderate and sparinij; iiuaiitity ; it hatli not 
an aspersion, nor iiubution, but impletion ; it is lilled to the briin, ' iuU of 
evil.' Thus, at first putting forth, we have man in his best member cor- 
rupted. 

1. The owners or jmssessors — sons of men. Adam was called the son of 
God, Luke iii. 38, ' Euos was the son of Seth, Seth the son of Adam, Adam 
the son of God :' but all his posterity the sons of men ; we receiving from 
him both flesh and the corruption of ilesh, yea, and of soul too ; though the 
substance thereof be inspired of God, not traduced from man : for the purest 
soul becomes stained and corrupt when it once toucheth the body. 

The soJis of vien. This is a derivative and dimimitive speech ; whereby 
man's conceit of himself is lessened, and himself lessened to humility. Man, 
as God's creation left him, was a goodly creature, an abridgement of heaven 
and earth, an epitome of God and the world : resembling God, who is a 
spirit, in his soul ; and the world, which is a body, in the composition of 
his. JJeiis ma,rimiis invisi/jilium, mutidus maximus visihilium, — God the 
greatest of mvisible natures, the world the greatest of visible creatures ; both 
brought into the little compass of man. 

Now man is grown less ; and as his body in si/.e, his soul in vigour, so 
himself in all virtue is abated : so that ' the son of man' is a phrase of dimi- 
nution, a bar in the arms of his ancient glory, a mark of his derogate and 
degenerate worth. 

Two instructions may the sons of men learn in being called so : — (1.) Tlieir 
spuitual corruption ; (2.) Their natural corruptibleness. 

(1.) That coi^ruption and original pravity which we have derived from our 
parents. Ps. li. 5, ' Behold,' saith David, ' I was shapen in iniquity, and in 
sin did my mother conceive me.' The original word is, ' warm me ;' as if 
the first heat derived to him were not without contamination. I was bom 
a sinner, saith a saint. 

It is said. Gen. v. 3, that ' Adam begat a son in liis own likeness, after 
liis image, and called his name Seth.' This image and likeness cannot be 
understood of the soul : for this Adam begat not. Nor properly and merely 
of the body's shape ; so was Cain as like to Adam as Seth, of whom it is 
spoken. Nor did that image consist in the piety and purity of Seth : Adam 
could not propagate that to his son which he had not in himself; virtues 
arc not given by birth, nor doth gi-ace follow generation, but regeneration. 
Neither is Seth said to be ' begotten in the image of Adam ' because manldud 
was continued and presen'od in him. But it intends that corruption which 
descended to Adam's posterity by natural propagation. The Pelagian error 
was, peccatum primoi transgressionis in alios homines, non propagatione, sed 
imilatione transisse, — that the guilt of the first sin was derived to other men, 
not by propagation, but by imitation ; but then could not Adam be said to 
beget a son in Ids own image, neither could death have seized on infants, 
who had not then sinned. But all have sinned : Pom. v. 12, 'As by one 
man sin entered hito the world, and death by sui : so death passed upon all 
men, for that all have sinned.' 

This title, then, ' the sons of men,' puts us in mind of our original contami- 
nation, whereby we stand guilty before God, and liable to present and eternal 
judgments. Dura tremenda refers. You will say witli tlie disciples, John 
vi. GO, ' This is a hard saying; who can hear it?' — bear it; nay, be ready to 
conclude with a sadder inference, as the same disciples, after a particular 
instance, Matt. xix. 25, ' Who then can be saved V 



256 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeKMON XVIII. 

I .in.swei-, We derive from the first Adam sin and deatli ; but from the 
second Adam, grace and life. As we are the sons of men, our state is 
wretched ; as made the sons of God, blessed. It is a peremptory speech, 
1 Cor. XV. 50, ' Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God ; neither 
doth corruption inherit incorruption.' It is a reviving comfort in the 6th 
chapter of the same epistle, ver. 11, ' Such we were; but we are washed, but 
we are sanctified, but we are justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by 
the Spirit of our God.' The conclusion or inference hereon is most happy : 
Rom. viii. 1, ' Now therefore there is no condemnation to them which arc in 
Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.' We may 
live in the flesh, but 'if after the flesh, we shall die,' ver. 13, — si voluiitati 
et voluptati carnis satisfacere conemu7\ if our endeavours be wholly armed 
and aimed to content the flesh ; but if we be ' led by the Spirit,' cum dilec- 
lione, cum delectallone, with love, with delight, we are of the sons of men 
made the sons of God, ver. 14. 

It is our happiness, not to be born, but to be new-born, John iii. 3. The 
first bu'th kills, the second gives life. It is not the seed of man in the 
womb of our mother, but the seed of grace, 1 Pet. i. 23, in the womb of 
the church, that makes us blessed. Generation lost us ; it must be regene- 
ration that recovers us. ' As the tree falls, so it lies ;' and lightly it falls to 
that side which is most laden with fruits and branches. If we abound most 
with the fruits of obedience, we sliall fall to the right hand, life ; if with 
wicked actions, afi'ections, to the left side, death. 

It is not, then, worth the ascription of glory to, what we derive naturally 
from man. David accepts it as a great dignity to be son-ui-law to a king. 
To descend from potentates, and to fetch our pedigree from princes, is held 
mirabiie et memorabile decvs, a dignity not to be slighted or forgotten ; 
but to be a monarch — 

' Imperiiim oceauo, famam qui terminat astris,' — * 

' Wlio.se fame and empire no less bound controls. 
Than the remotest sea, and -both the poles ' — 

oh, this is celsissima gloria mundi, — the supremest honour of this world ! 
Yet ' princes are but men,' saith the Psalmist. Ps. cxlvi. 3, ' Put not your 
trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help. His 
breath gocth forth, he rcturneth to his earth.' They may be high by tlieir 
calling, ' princes;' yet they are but low by their nature, ' sons of men.' And 
merely to be the son of man is to be corrupt and polluted. They are sinful, 
' the sons of men ;' weak, ' there is no help in them ;' corruptible, ' their breath 
goeth forth ;' dying, ' they return to their e»rth.' 

It is registered as an evident praise of Moses's faith, Heb. xi. 24, that, 
' inr the rebuke of Chiist, he refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daugh- 
ter.' There is no ambition good in the sons of men, but to be adopted the 
sons of God : under which degree there is no happiness ; above which, no 
cause of aspiring. 

(2.) Our corniji/i.bleuess is here also demonstrated. A mortal father can- 
not beget an immortal son. If they that brought us into the world have 
gone out of the world themselves, we may infallibly conclude our own follow- 
ing. ^ He that may say, I liove a man to my father, a woman to my motlicr, 
in his life, may in death, with Job, chap. xvii. 14, 'say to corruption. Thou 
art my fatlicr : to the worm, Tliou art my mother, and my sister.' 

It hath been excepted against the justice of God, that the siu of one man 
* Virg. A'ln., ii. 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 257 

is devolved to Lis posterity ; and that for ' the fathers' eating sour grapes, 
the children's teeth are set on eilge,' Ezek. xviiL 2, according to the Jewish 
proverb, Jer. xxxi. 29. As if we might say to every son of man, as Horace 
sung to his friend : Delida majorum immentiis lues, — Thou being innocent, 
dost suffer for thy nocent superiors. This a philosopher objected against the 
gods ; strangely conferring it, as if for the father s disease physic should be 
ministered to the son. 

I answer, Adam is considered as the root of mankind ; that cornipt ma.ss, 
whence can be deduced no pure thing. Can we be born ^lorians without 
their black skins ? Is it possible to have an Amorite to our father, and a 
Hittite to our mother, without participation of their corrupted natures J If 
a man .slip a scion from a hawthorn, he will not look to gather from it grapes. 
There is not, then, a son of man in the cluster of mankind, but eodem modu 
et nodo, vinctus et victus, — is liable to that common and equal law of 
death. 

' Unde superbus homo, natus, satus, ortiis ab humo ? ' — 

' Proud man forgets earth was his native womb, 
Whence he waa born ; and dead, the earth's his tomb.' 

Morieris, non quia cegrotas, sed quia vivis, saith the pliilosophcr,* — Thou 
shalt die, O son of man, not because thou art sick, but because the son of 
man. Cui nasci contijit, mori restat, — Who happened to come into the 
world, must upon necessity go out of the world. 

It is no new thing to die, since life itself is nothing else but a journey to 
death, Quicquid ad summum pervenit, ad exitum properat, — He that hath 
climbed to his highest, is descending to his lowest. All the sons of men die 
not one death, for time and manner ; for the matter and end, one death is 
infallible to all the sons of men. The corn is sometimes bitten in the spring, 
often trod down in the blade, never fails to be cut up in the ear, when riijc. 
Quisquis queritur hominem mortuum esse, queritur hominem fuisse,i — Who 
laments that a man is dead, laments that he was a man. 

When Anaxagoras heard that his son was dead, he answered without 
astonishment, >Scio me gcnuisse mortalem, — I know that I begat a mortal 
man. It was a good speech that fell from that shame of philosophy, Epic- 
tetus : Non sum ceternitas, sed homo : particiila imivei-si, ut hora diei : venire 
igitur oportet ut horam, praterire ut horam, — I am not eternity, but a man : 
a little part of the whole, as an hour is of the day : like an hour I came, and 
I must depart like an hour. 

' Mors dominos servis, et sceptra Hgonibus scquat : 
DLssimiles simiU conditione hgat; ' — 

'Death's cold impartial hand.s are used to strike 
Princes and peasants, and make both alike.' 

Some frait is plucked violently from the tree, .some drops with ripeness; all 
must fall, because the sons of men. 

This should teach us to arm ourselves with patience and expectation, to 
encounter death . Soepe dehemus mori, nee volnmus : monmur, nee volnmiis, 
— Often we ought to i)rei)are for death, we will not : at last, we die indeed, 
and we would not. Adam knew all the bea.st.s, and called thorn by their 
names; but his own name he forgot — Adam, of earth. What bad memories 
have we, that forget our o^ti names and selves, that we are the sons of men, 
corniptible, mortal ! Incertum est, quo loco temors expectat; itaque lu ilUuu 
* Sen. Ep. 99 ad Lucil. t '''cu. ibid. 

VOL. L K 



258 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeEMON XVIII. 

omni loco expeda, — Thou knowest not in what place death looketh for thee ; 
therefore do thou look for him in every place. Matt. xxiv. 42, 'Watch 
therefore ; for you kitow not what hour your Lord doth come.' — Thus for 
the owners. 

2. The vessel itself is the heart. The heart is man's principal vessel. We 
deske to have all the implements in our house good ; but the vessel of chief- 
est honour, principally good. Quam male de ie ipse mentisti, &c., saith St 
Augustine, — How mad is that man that would have all his vessels good but 
his own heart ! We would have a strong nerve, a clear vein, a moderate 
pulse, a good arm, a good face, a good stomach, only we care not how evil 
the heart is, the principal of all the rest. 

For howsoever the head be called the tower of the mind, the throne of 
reason, the house of wisdom, the treasure of memory, the capitol of judg- 
ment, the shop of affections, yet is the heart the receptacle of life. And 
spirit us, which, they say, is copula animce et corporis, a virtue uniting the 
soul and the body, if it be in the liver natural, in the head animal, yet is in 
the heart vital. It is the member that hath first life in man, and it is the 
last that dies in man, and to all the other members gives vivification. 

As man is microcosmus, an abridgment of the world, he hath heaven re- 
sembling his soul ; earth his heart, placed in the midst as a centre ; the liver 
is like the sea, whence flow the lively springs of blood ; the brain, like the 
sun, gives the light of understanding ; and the senses are set round about, 
like the stars. The heart in man is like the root in a tree : the organ or 
lung-pipe, that comes of the left cell of the heart, is like the stock of the 
tree, which divides itself into two parts, and thence spreads abroad, as it 
were, sprays and boughs into aU the body, even to the arteries of the head. 

The Egyptians have a conceit that man's growing or declining follows his 
heart. The heart of man, say they, increaseth still till he come to fifty 
years old, every year two drams in weight, and then decrcaseth every year as 
much, tUl he come to a hundred ; and then for want of heart he can live 
no longer. By which consequence, none could live above a hundred years. 
But this observation hath often proved false. But it is a vessel, a living 
vessel, a vessel of life. 

It is a vessel properly, because hollow : hollow to keep heat, and for the 
more facile closing and opening. It is a spiritual vessel, made to contain 
the holy dews of grace, which make glad the city of God, Ps. xlvi. 4. It is 
ever full, either with that precious juice, or with the pernicious liquor of sin. 
As our Saviour saith. Matt. xv. 19, ' Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, 
murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies.' ' Know 
ye not,' saith the Apostle, 1 Cor. iii. 1 G, ' that you are the temple of God, 
and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you 1 ' If our corpus be templum 
Domini, sure our cor is sanctum sanctonwi. It was the answer of the oracle, 
to him that would be instructed what Avas the best sacrifice : — 
'Da medium luoae, solem simul, et canis ircam ; '— 
' Give the half -moon, the whole sun, ami the dog's anger ; ' 

wliich three characters make cor, the heart. The good heart is a receptacle 
for the whole Trinity; and therefore it hath three angles, as if the three Per- 
sons of tliat one Deity would inhabit there. The Fatlicr made it, the Son 
bought it, the Holy Ghost .sanctifies it ; therefore they all three claim a riglit 
in the heart. It hath three cells for the three Persons, and is but one heart 
for one God. The world cannot satisfy it : a globe cannot fill a triangle. 
Only God can sufficiently content tlie heart. 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 259 

God is, saitli a father, no7i cortkis, sed cordis Deus* — not regarding the 
rind of the lips, but the root of the heart. Hence Satan directs his malicious 
strength against the heart. The fox doth gripe the neck, the mastitf flics at 
the throat, and the ferret nips the liver, but the devil aims .it the heart, 
injicei-e^ inter jlcere . The heart he desires, becauses he knows God desires it ; 
and his ambition still inclines, intends his purposes and plots, to rob God of 
his delight. The heart Is the chief tower of life to the body, and the spi- 
ritual citadel to the whole man : always besieged by a domestical enemy, the 
flesh ; by a civil, the world \ by a professed, the devil. Every perpetrated 
sin doth some hurt to the walls ; but if the heart be taken, the whole corpo- 
ration is lost. 

How should Christ enter thy house, and * sup with thee,' Rev. iii. 20, 
when the chamber is taken up wherein he would rest, the heart ? hS\. the 
faculties of man follow the heart, as servants the mistress, wheels the poise, 
or links the first end of the chain. When the sun riseth, all rise ; beasts 
from their dens, birds' from their nests, men from their beds. So the heart 
leads, directs, moves the parts of the body and powers of the soul ; that the 
mouth speaketh, hand worketh, eye looketh, ear listeneth, foot walketh, all 
producing good or evil * from the good or evil treasure of the heart,' Luke 
vi. 4-5. Therefore the penitent publican beat his heart, as if he would call 
uj) that, to call up the rest. 

It is conspicuous, then, that the heart is the best vessel whereof any son 
of man can boast himself possessor ; and yet (proA dolor I) even this is cor- 
rupted. To declare this pollution, the next circumstance doth justly chal- 
lenge ; only one caveat to our hearts, of our hearts, ere we leave them. 
Since the heart is the most precious vessel man hath in all his corporal 
household, let him have good regard to it. Omni custodia custodi cor iuiim, 
— ' Keep thy heart with all diligence,' saith Solomon. God hath done much 
for the heart, naturally, spiritually. 

For the former ; he liath placed it in the midst of the body, as a general 
in the midst of his army : bulwarked it about with breast, ribs, back. Lest 
it should be too cold, the liver lies not far oif, to gave it kindly heat ; lest 
too hot, the lungs lie by it, to blow cool wind upon it. It is the chief, and 
therefore should -wisely temper all other members : by the spleen we are 
made to laugh, by the gall to be angry, by the brain we feel, by the liver we 
love, but by the heart we be wise. 

Spiritually, he hath done more for the heart, giving the blood of his Son ■ 
to cleanse it, soften it, sanctify it, when it was fdl both of hardness and turpi- 
tude. By his omnipotent grace he unroostcd the devil iwm it, who liad made 
it a stable of uncleanness ; and now requires it, being created new, for his 
own chamber, for his own bed. The purified heart is God's sacrar}', his 
sanctuary, his house, his heaven. As St Aug^istine glosseth the first words 
of the Faternoster, * Our Father which art in heaven' — that is, in a heart of 
a heavenly disposition. Quam propit'ui dignatio ista, that the King of hea- 
ven will vouchsafe to dwell in an earthly tabernacle ! 

The heart, then, being so accepted a vessel, keep it at home ; having but 
one so precious supellectile or moveable, part not with it u]ion any terms. 
There are four busy requirers of the heart, besides he that justly owneth it — 
beggars, buyers, borrowers, thieves. 

(1.) He that begs thy heart is the Pope ; and this he doth not by word of 
mouth, but by letters of commendations, — condemnations rather, — his Semi- 
nary factors. He begs thy heart, and ofl'ers thee nothing for it, but crucifixes, 
• Ambroa. 



2 CO MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIII. 

images, &c., — mere images or shadows of reward, — or Ms blessing at Rome ; 
which, because it is so far distant, as Lf it lost all the virtue by the way, doth 
.13 much good as a candle in a sunshine. 

(2.) He that would Uuj this vessel of us is the devil ; as one that dis- 
trusts to have it for notliing : and therefore, set what price thou wilt upon 
it, he will either pay it or promise it. Satan would fain have his jewel- 
house full of these vessels, and thinks them richer ornaments than the 
Babylonian ambassadors thought the treasures of Hezekiah, 2 Kings xx. 13. 
Haman shall have grace with the king, Absalom honour, Jezebel revenge, 
Amncm his lusts satisfied, Judas money, Demas the world, if they will sell 
him their hearts. If any man, like Ahab, sell his heart to such a purchaser, 
let him know that qui emit, inter imit, — he doth buy it to butcher it. 

(3.) The flesh is the borrower, and he would have this vessel to use, with 
promise of restorhig. Let him have it a while, and thou shalt have it again; 
but as from an ill neighbour, so broken, lacerated, deformed, defaced, that 
though it went forth rich, like the prodigal, it returns home tattered and 
torn, and worn, no more like a heart than Michal's image on the pUlow was 
like David. This suitor borrows it of the citizen, till usury hath made him 
an alderman ; of the courtier, till ambition hath made him noble ; of the 
officer, till bribery hath made him master ; of the gallant, tUl riot hath made 
him a beggar ; of the luxurious, tUl lust hath filled him with diseases ; of 
the country churl, till covetise hath swelled his barns ; of the epicure, till he 
be fatted for death ; and then sends home the heart, like a jade, tired with 
imreasonable travel. This is that wicked borrower in the psalm, 'which 
payeth not again.' Thou wouldest not lend thy beast, nor the worst vessel 
in thy house, to such a neighbour; and wilt thou trust him with thy heart? 
Either not lend it, or look not for it again. 

(4.) The world is the thief, which, like Absalom, ' steals away the heart,' 
2 Sam. XV. G. This cunningly insinuates into thy breast, begiiiling the 
watch or guard, which are thy senses, and corrupting the servants, wliich 
are thy affections. The world hath two properties of a thief : — First, It 
comes in the night time, when the lights of reason and understanding are 
darkened, and security hath gotten the heart into a slumber. This dead 
sleep, if it doth not find, it brings. 

' Sunt quoque qua3 faciunt altos medicamina somnos, 
Vivaque Lethsea lumina nocte premunt ; ' — * 

* The world 's a potion ; who thereof drinks deep. 
Shall yield his soul to a lethargic sleep.' 

Secondly, It makes no noise in coming, lest the ftimily of our revived 
thoughts wake, and our sober knowledge discern his approach. This thief 
takes us, as it took Demas, napping ; terrifies us not with noise of tumultu- 
ous troubles, and alarum of persecutions, but pleasingly gives us the music of 
gain, and laps us warm in the couch of lusts. This is the most perilous 
oppugncr of our hearts ; neither beggar, buyer, nor borrower could do much 
without this thief; It is some respect to the world that makes men either 
give, or sell, or lend the vessel of their heart. Astus poUentior armis, — 
Fraud is more dangerous than force. Let us beware this thief 

First, turn the beggar from thy door ; he is too saucy in asking thy best 

moveable, whereas beggars sliould not choose their alms. That Pope was 

yet a little more reasonable, that shewed himself content with a king of 

Spain's reumncration : The present you sent me was such as became a king 

• Ovid. Amor. 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 201 

to give, and St Peter to receive. But da pauperibus, the Pope is rich 
enough. 

Then reject the buyer ; set hira no price of thy heart, for he will take it of 
any reckoning. He is near driven that sells his heart. I have heard of a 
Jew that would, for security of his lent money, have only assured to him a 
pound of his Christian debtor's living flesh ; a strange forfeit for default of 
paying a little money. But the devil, in all his covenants, indents for the 
heart. In other bargains, caveat emptor, saith the proverb, — let the Iniyer 
take heed; in this, let the seller look to it. Make no mart nor market with 
Satan. 

' Non bene pro multo libertas venditur auro/ — 
' The heart is ill sold, whatever the price be.' 

Thirdly, for the borrower : lend not thy heart in hope of interest, lest 
thou lose the principal. Lend him not any implement in thy hou.se, any 
affection in thy heart ; but to spare the best vessel to such an abuser is no 
other than mad charity. 

Lastly, ware the thief; and let his subtlety excite thy more provident 
prevention. Many a man keeps his goods safe enough from beggars, buyers, 
borrowers, yet is met withal by thieves. 

Therefore lock up this vessel with the key of faith, bar it with resolution 
agamst sin, guard it vnih. supervisiting diligence, and repose it in the bosom 
of thy Saviour. There it is safe from all obsidious or insidious oppngna- 
tions, from the reach of fraud or violence. Let it not stray from this home, 
lest, like Dinah, it be deflowered. If we keep this vessel ourselves, we en- 
danger the loss. Jacob bought Esau's birthright, and Satan stole Adam's 
paradise, whiles the tenure was in their own hands. An apple beguiled the 
one, a mess of pottage the other. Trust not thy heart in thine own custody; 
but lay it up m heaven with thy treasure. Commit it to Him that is the 
Maker and Preserver of men, who will lap it up with peace, and lay it in a 
bed of joy, where no adversaiy power can invade it, nor thief break through 
to steal it. 

3. The liquor this vessel holds is evil. Evil is double, either of sin or of 
punishment ; the deserving and retribution ; the one of man's own afi"ecting, 
the other of God's just inflicting. The former is simpliciter malum, simply 
evil of its own nature ; the latter but secundum quid, in respect of the suf- 
ferer, being good in regard of God's glory, as an act of his justice. For the, 
evils of our sufferings, as not intended here, I pretermit. Only, when they 
come, we learn hence how to entertain them : in our knowledge, as our due 
rewards ; in our patience, as men, as saints ; that tribulation may as well 
produce patience, Rom. v. 3, as sin hath procured tribulation. A'^on sentire 
mala sua non est hominis, et non ferre non est viri,* — He that feels not his 
miseries sensibly is not a man ; and he that bears them not courageously is 
not a Christian. , 

The juice in the heart of the sons of men is e\il ; all have corrupted their 
ways. Solomon speaks not here in individuo, this or that son of man, but 
generally, with an universal extent, the sons of men. And leaving the plural 
with the possessors, by a significant solecism, he names the vessel in the sin- 
gular, — the heart, not hearts, — as if all mankind had cor unum in unitate 
malitice, one heart in the unity of sin ; the matter of the vessel being of 
one polluted luniji, that every man that hath a heart, hath naturally an evil 
heart. Adam had no sooner by his one sin slain his posterity, but ho beg(\l. 
* Sea 



262 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIII. 

a son that slew Ms brother. Adam was planted by God a good vine, 
but his apo.stasy made all his children sour grapes. Our nature was sown 
good ; behold, wc are come up evil. Through whose default ariseth this 
badness 1 

God created this vessel good ; man poisoned it in the seasoning. And 
being thus distained in the tender newness, servat odorem testa diu, — it 
smells of the old infection, till a new juice be put into it, or' rather itself 
made new. As David prays, Ps. li. 10, ' Create in me, O Lord, a clean heart, 
and renew a right spirit within me.' God made us good, we have marred 
ourselves, and,"behold, we call on him to make us good again. Yea, even 
the vessel thus recreated is not without a tang of the former corruption. 
Paul confesseth in himself a ' body of death,' Piom. vii., as well as David a 
native ' uncleanness,' Ps. li. The best grain sends forth that chaff, whereof, 
before the sowing, it was purged by the fan. Our contracted evil had been 
the less intolerable if we had not been made so perfectly good. He that made 
heaven and earth, air and fire, sun and moon, all elements, all creatures, 
good, surely would not make him evil for whom these good things were 
made. How comes he thus bad 1 Deus hominem fecit, homo se interfecit. 
In the words of our royal preacher, Eccles. vii. 29, ' Lo, this only I have 
found, that God hath made man upright ; but they have sought out many 
inventions.' Man was created happy, but he found out tricks to make him- 
self miserable. And his misery had been less if he had never been so blessed ; 
the better we were, we are the worse. Like the posterity of some profuse or 
tainted progenitor, we may tell of the lands, lordships, honours, titles that 
were once ours, and then sigh out the song, Fuimus Trees, — We have been 
blessed. 

If the heart were thus good by creation, or is thus good by redemption, 
how can it be the continent of such evil liquor, when, by the word of his 
mouth that never erred, ' a good tree cannot bring forth bad fruits T Matt, 
vii. 18. I answer, that saying must be construed in sensu composito : a 
good tree, continuing good, cannot produce evil fruits. The heart born of 
God, in quanto renatum est, non peccat, — ' doth not commit sin,' 1 John iii. 
9, so far as it is born of God. Yet even in this vessel, whiles it walks on 
earth, are some drops of the first poison. And so — 

' Dat diilces fons unus aquas, qui et prsebet amaras ; ' — 

The same fountain sends forth sweet water and bitter; though not at the 
same place, as St James propoimds it, chap. iii. 11. 

But Solomon speaks here of the heart, as it is generate or degenerate, not 
as regenerate ; what it is by nature, not by grace ; as it is from the first 
Adam, not from the second. It is thus a vessel of evil. Sin was brewed in 
it, and hath brewed it into sin. It is strangely, I know not how truly, re- 
ported of a vessel that changeth some kind of liquor put into it into itself, 
as fire transforms the fuel into ^re. But here the content doth change the 
continent, as some mineral veins do the earth that holds them. This evil 
jviice turns the whole heart into evil, as water poured upon snow turns it to 
water. ' The wickedness of man was so great in the earth,' that it made 
' every imagination of the thoughts of his heart only evil continually,' Gen. 
vi. 5. 

Here, if we consider the dignity of the vessel, and the filthiness of the evil 
it holds, or is rather lioldcn of, (fur non tarn tenet, quam tenetur,) the com- 
parison is sufficient to astonish us. 

' Quam male couveuiuut vas aureum, atrumquc veuenum 1 ' 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 2G3 

Oh, ingratc, inconsiderate man ! to whom God hath given so good a vessel, 
and he fills it with no cvU sap. ' In a great house there be vessels of hon- 
our, and vessels of dishonour,' 2 Tim. ii. 20 ; some for better, some for baser 
uses. The heart is a vessel of honour, sealed, consecrated for a receptacle, 
for a habitacle of the graces of God. 1 Cor. vi 15, * Shall we take the mem- 
ber of Christ, and make it an harlot's 1 ' the vessel of God, and make it 
Satan's 1 Did God infuse into us so noble a part, and shall we infuse into 
it such ignoble stuff 1 AVas fraud, falsehood, malice, mischief, adultery, ido- 
latry, variance, variableness ordained fur the heart, or the heart for them ? 
When the seat of holiness is become the seat of hollowncss ; the house of 
innocence, the house of impudence ; the place of love, the place of lust ; the 
vessel of piety, the vessel of uncleanness ; the throne of God, the court of 
Satan, the heart is become rather a jelly than a heart : wherein there is a 
tumultuous, promiscuous, turbulent throng, heaped and amassed together, like 
a wine-drawer's stomach, full of Dutch, French, Spanish, Greek, and many 
country wines ; envy, lust, treason, ambition, avarice, fraud, hypocrisy ob- 
sessing it, and by long teiuire pleading prescription : that custom, being a 
second nature, the heart hath lost the name of heart, and is become the na- 
ture of that it holds, a lump of evil. 

It is detestable ingratitude in a subject, on whom his sovereign hath con- 
ferred a golden cup, to employ it to base uses ; to make that a wash-pot 
which should receive the best wine he drinketh. Behold, the King of heaven 
and earth hath given thee a rich vessel, thy heart, wherein, though it be a 
piece of flesh or clay of itself, he hath placed the chief faculties of thy spirit 
and his. How adverse to thankfulness and his intent is thy practice, when 
thou shalt pour into this cup lees, dregs, muddy pollutions, tetrical poisons, 
the waters of hell, wines wluch the infernal spirits drmk to men ; taking the 
heart from him that created it, from him that bought it, from him that keeps 
it, and bequeathing it, in the death of thy soul, to him that infects, afiiicts, 
tempts, and torments it ; making him thy executor which shall be thy exe- 
cutioner, that hath no more right to it than Herod had to the bed of his 
sister ! What injury, what indignity, is offered to God, when Satan is grati- 
fied with his goods, when his best moveable on earth is taken from him and 
given to his enemy ! 

The heart is ^os solis, and should open and shut with the ' Sun of right- 
eousness,' Mai. iv. 2. To him, as the landlord duplice jure, it should stand 
open, not suffering him to knock for entrance till ' his locks be wet with the 
dew of heaven,' Cant. v. 1. Alas ! how comes it about that he which is the 
owner can have no admission ? that we open not the doors of our hearts 
that the King of glory might enter, who will then one day open the doors of 
heaven that a man of earth may enter ? Did God erect it as a lodging for 
his own majesty, leaving no window in it for the eye of man so much as to 
look into it, as if he would keep it under lock and key to himself, as a sacred 
chalice, whereout he would drink the wine of faith, fear, grace, and obedi- 
ence, ^\ine which himself had sent before for his own supper. Rev. iii. 20 ; 
and must he be turned forth by his own steward, and have his chamber let 
out for an ordinarj', where sins and lusts may securely revel ? Will not he 
that made it one day ' break it with a rod of iron, and dash it in pieces like 
a potter's vessel 1 ' Ps. ii. 9. 

Shall the great Belshazzar, Dan. v. 2, that tyrant of hell, sit drinking his 
wines of abomination and wickedness in the sacred bowls of the temple, the 
vessels of God, the hearts of men, without ruin to those that dfliglitfully 
suffer him 1 Was it a thing detestable in the eyes of God to profane tho 



2G4 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIII. 

vessels of the sanctuary ; and will he brook with impunity the hearts of 
men to be abused to his dishonour ? Sure, his justice will punish it, if our 
injustice do it. The very vessels under the law, that had but touched an 
unclean thing, must be rinsed or broken. "Wliat shall become of the vessels 
under the gospel, ordained to hold the faith of Christ, if they be — more than 
touched — polluted with uncleanness ? They must either be rinsed with re- 
pentance, or broken with vengeance. 

I am willingly led to prolixity in this point. Yet in vain the preacher 
amplifies, except the hearer applies. Shall none of us, in this \isitation of 
hearts, ask his own heart how it doth 1 Perhaps security will counterfeit the 
voice of the heart, as Jacob did Esau's hands, to supplant it of this blessing ; 
saying, I am well ; and stop the mouth of diligent scrutiny with a present- 
ment of Omnia bene. Take heed, the heart of man is deceitful above mea- 
sure. Audebit dissimulare, qui audet malefacere, — He will not stick to dis- 
semble, that dares to do evil. Thou needest not rip up thy breast to see 
what blood thy heart holds, though thou hast been unkind enough to it in 
thine iniquities ; behold, the beams of the sun on earth witness his shining 
in heaven ; and the fruits of the tree declare the goodness or badness. Non 
exfoliis, non exjloribiis, sed ex fructibus dignoscitur arbor. 

What is lust in thy heart, thou adulterer 1 Malice in thine, thou envious 1 
Usury in thine, thou covetous 1 Hypocrisy in yours, ye sons of Gibeon ] 
Pride in yours, ye daughters of Jezebel ? Falsehood in yours, ye brothers of 
Joab 1 And treachery in yours, ye friends of Judas 1 Is this wine fit for 
the Lord's bowl, or dregs for the devil to carouse of 1 Perhaps the sons of 
Belial will be filthy; ' let them be filthy still,' Piev. xxii. 11. Who can help 
them that will not be saved 1 Let them perish. 

Let me turn to you that seem Christians, — for you are in the temple of 
Christ, and, I hope, come hither to worship Kim, — with confidence of better 
success. What should uncleanness do in the holy city, evil in a heart sancti- 
fied to grace, sealed to glory? The vessel of every heart is by nature tem- 
pered of the same mould ; nor is there any (let the proud not triumph) 
quorum pra;cordia Titan de meliore luto jinxit. But though nature knew 
none, grace hatb made difi"erence of hearts ; and the sanctified heart is of a 
purer metal than the polluted. A little living stone in God's building is 
worth a whole quarry in the world. One poor man's honest heart is better 
than many rich e\41 ones. These are dead, that is alive ; and ' a living dog 
is better than a dead lion.' Solomon's heart was better than Absalom's, 
Jvide's than Judas's, Simon Peter's than Simon Magus's : all of one matter, 
clay from the earth ; but in regard of qualities and God's acceptance, the 
richest mine and coarsest mould have not such difference. There is with 
nature grace, with flesh faith, with humanity Christianity in these hearts. 

How ill becomes it such a heart to have hypocrisy, injustice, fraud, covet- 
ousness seen in it ! Let these bitter waters remain in heathen cisterns. To 
the master of malediction, and his ungodly imps, we leave those vices ; our 
hearts are Hot vessels for such liquor. If we should entertain them, we give 
a kind of warrant to others' imitation. Whiles polygamy w\as restrained 
within Lamech's doors, it did but moderate harm, Gen. iv. 19 ; but when it 
once insinuated into Isaac's family, it got strength, and prevailed with great 
prejudice, Gen. xxvi. 34, 35. The habits of vices, wliilcs they dwell in the 
hearts of Belial's children, arc merely sins ; but when they have room given 
them in the hearts of the sons of God, they are sins and examples ; not 
.simply evil deeds, but warrants to evil deeds; especially with such despisers 
CJid dcspiters of goodness, who, though they love, embrace, and resolve 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAil. 265 

to practise evil, yet are glad they may do it by patronage, and go to hell by 
example. 

But how can this evil jiiice in our hearts be perceived 1 "Wliat beams of 
the sun ever pierced into that abstruse and secret pavilion ? The anatomis- 
ing of the heart remains for the work of that last and great day, Eccles. xii. 
14, Rom. ii. 16. As no eye can look into it, so let no reason judge it. But 
our Saviour answers, ' Out of the heart proceed actual .sms ;* the water may 
be close in the fountain, but will be discerned issuing out. The heart can- 
not so contain the unruly afl'ections, but like headstrong rebels they will 
burst out into actions ; and works are infallible notes of the heart. I .say 
not that works determine a man to damnation or bliss, — the decree of God 
orders that, — but works distinguish of a good or bad man. The saints have 
sinned, but the greatest part of their converted life hath been holy. 

Indeed, we are all subject to passions, because men ; but let us order our 
passions well, because Christian men. And as the skilful apothecary makes 
wholesome potions of noisome poisons, by a wise melling and allaying 
tliem ; so let us meet with the intended hurt of our corruptions, and turn it 
to oiu: good. It is not a sufficient commendation of a prince to govern 
peaceable and loyal subjects, but to subdue or subvert rebels. It is the 
praise of a Christian to order refractory and wild affections, more than to 
manage yielding and pliable ones. As therefore it is a provident policy in 
princes, Avhen they have some in too likely suspicion for some plotted fac- 
tion, to keep them down and to hold them bare, that though they retain 
the same minds, they shaU not have the same means to execute their mis- 
chiefs ; so the rebellious spirit's impotcncy gives most secmity to Ids sove- 
reign, whUes he sees afar off what he would do, but knows (near at hand, 
that is, certainly) he cannot. So let thy heart keep a strait and awful hajid 
over thy passions and affections, ttt, si moveant, non removeant, — that if 
they move thee, they may not remove thee from thy rest. A man then 
sleeps surely, securely, when he knows, not that he will not, but that his 
enemy cannot hurt Idni. Violent is the force and fury of passions, over- 
bearing a man to those courses which in his sober and collected sense he 
would abhor. They have this power, to make him a fool that otherwise is 
not ; and him that is a fool to appear so. If in strength thou canst not keep 
out passion, yet in wisdom temper it; that if, notwithstanding the former, it 
comes to whisper in thine ears thine own weakness, yet it may be hindered 
by the latter from divulging it to thy shame. 

Thou scest how excellent and principal a work it is to manage the heart, 
which indeed manageth aU the rest, and is powerful to the carrying away 
with itself the attendance of all the senses ; who be as ready at call, and as 
.speedy to execution, as any servant the centurion had, waiting only for a 
Come, Go, Do, from their leader, the heart. The car will not hear where the 
heart minds not, nor the hand relieve where the heart pities not, nor the 
tongue praise where the heart loves not. All look, listen, attend, stay upon 
the heart, as a captain, to give the onset. The philosopher saith, It is not 
the eye that seeth, but the heart ; so it is not the ears that hear, but the 
heart. 

Indeed, it sometimes falleth out, that a man hears not a great sound or 
noise, though it be nigh him. The reason is, his heart is fixed, and busily 
taken up in some object, serious hi his imagination, though i>crliaps in itself 
vain ; and the ears, like faithful sei-vants, attending their master, the heart, 
lose the act of that auditive organ by some suspcnsidu, till the heart hath 
done TYith them and given them leave. Curious and rare sights, able to 



266 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SkkMON XVIIl. 

ravish some with admiration, affect not others, whiles they stand as open to 
their view ; because their eyes are following the heart, and doing service 
about another matter. Hence our feet stumble in a plain path, because our 
eyes, which should be their guides, are sent some other way on the heart's 
errand. Be then all clean, if thou canst ; but if that happiness be denied on 
earth, yet let thy heart be clean ; there is then the more hope of the rest. 

4. The measure of this vessel's infection — full. It hath not aspersion, 
nor imbution, but impletion. It is not a moderate contamination, which, 
admitted uito comparison with other turpitudes, might be exceeded ; but a 
transcendent, egregious, superlative matter, to which there can be no acces- 
sion. The vessel is full, and more than full what can be? One vessel may 
hold more than another, but when all are filled, the least is as full as the 
greatest. Now Solomon, that was no flatterer, because a king himself, with- 
out awe of any mortal superior, because servant to the King of kings, and 
put in trust with the registering of his oracles, tells man plainly that his 
heart, not some less principal part, is evU, not good, or inclining to goodness; 
nay, full of evil, to the utmost dram it contains. 

This describes man in a degi'ee further than nature left him, if I may so 
speak ; for we were born evil, but have made ourselves full of evd. There 
is time required to this perfecting of sin, and making up the reprobate's 
damnation. Judgment stays for the Amorites, ' tUl their Avickedness becomes 
full,' Gen. XV. 16; and the Jews are forborne tUl they have 'fulfilled the 
measure of their fathers,' Matt, xxiii. 32. Sin loved, delighted, accustomed, 
habituated, voluntarily, violently perpetrated, brings this impletion. Indeed, 
man quickly fills this vessel of his own accord ; let him alone, and he needs 
no help to bring himself to hell. Whiles God's preventing grace doth not 
forestall, nor his calling grace convert, man runs on to destruction, as the 
fool laughing to the stocks. He sees evil, he likes it, he dares it, he does it, 
he lives in it ; and his heart, like a hydropic stomach, is not quiet till it be 
fuU. 

Whiles the heart, like a cistern, stands perpetually open, and the devU, 
like a tankard-bearer, never rests fetching water from the conduit of heU to 
fill it, and there is no vent of repentance to empty it, how can it choose 
but be full of evil ? The heart is but a little thing ; one would therefore 
think it might soon be full ; but the heart holds much, therefore is not 
soon filled. It is a little morsel, not able to give a kite her breakfast;' 
yet it contains as much in desires as the world doth in her integral parts. 
Neither, if the whole world were given to the Pellaian monarch, woidd he 
yet say, My heart is full, my mind is satisfied. 

There must then concur some co-working accidents to this repletion. 
Satan suggests ; concupiscence hearkens, flatters the heart with some per- 
suasion of profit, pleasure, content ; the heart assents, and sends forth the 
eye, hand, foot, as instruments of practice ; lastly, sin comes, and that not 
alone — one is entertained, many press in. Mala sunt contigua et continua 
inter se. Then the more men act, the more they affect ; and the exit of one 
sin is another's hint of entrance, that the stage of his heart is never empty 
till the tragedy of liis soul be done. 

This fulness argues a great height of impiety. Paul amply delivered the 
wickedness of Elym;us, Acts xiii. 10, ' full of all subtlety and all mischief, 
thou child of the devil, thou enemy of all righteousness,' ttc. ; a wretched 
impletion. So is the reprobate estate of the heathen described, Rom. i., to 
be ' filled with all unrighteousness, fornication, covetousness,' &c. The same 
apostle, in the same einstle, speaking of the wicked in the words of the 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 2(')7 

psalm, saitL, ' Their moutli is full of cursing and bitterness,' Pioni. iii, 1 i. 
Here the heart is ' full of evil' The commander being so filled with iniquity, 
every member as a soldier, in his place, fills itself with the desired corrui>- 
tion. 'The eye is full of adultery and lust,' saith the Apostle, 2 Pet. ii, 14; 
the 'hand full of blood,' Siiith the prophet, Isa. i. 15; the foot full of averse- 
ness ; the tongue fidl of curses, oaths, dissimulations. Every vessel will be 
full as well as the heart ; full to the brim, nay, running over, as the vessels at 
the marriage in Caua, though ^vith a contrary liquor. And when all are re- 
plenished, the heart is ready to call, as the widow in 2 Kings iv. 6, ' Bring 
me yet another vessel,' that it may be filled. 

This is the precipitation of sin, if God doth not prevent, as Satan doth 
provoke it ; it rests not till it be full. Sinful man is evermore carr}'ing a 
stick to his pile, a talent to his burden, more foul w\ater to his cistern, more 
torments to be laid up in his hell : he cetuseth not, without a supernatural 
interruption, and gracious revocation, till his measure be full. 

Thus I have run through these four circumstances of the comirui, or first 
point of man : observing — 1. From the oivners, their corniptible fragility ; 
2. From the vessel, the heart's excellency ; 3. From the liquor contaiued in 
it, the pollution of our nature ; 4. And lastly, from the plenitude, the strength 
and height of sin. The sum is, 1. the heart, 2. of man, 3. is full, 4. of evil. 

I should now conclude, leavmg my discourse, and you to the meditation 
of it, but that you should then say I had failed in one special part of a 
physician ; that having described the malady, I prescribe no remedy. Since 
it is not only expedient to be made expcrient of our own estate, but to be 
taught to help it; give me leave therefore briefly to tell you that some prin- 
cipal intentions to the repair of your hearts' ruins are these: — 1. Seeing 
this vessel is full, to empfi/ it. 2. Seeing it is foul, to wash it. 3. Since it 
hath caught an ill tang, to sweeten it. 4. And when it is well, so to preserve 
it. With these four uses go in peace. 

1. There is, first, a necessity that the heart, which is full of e\il by natiure, 
2nust be emptied by conversion, and replenished with grace, or not saved 
with glory ; what scuppet have we then to free the heart of this muddy 
pollution ] Lo, how happily we fall upon repentance : God grant repentance 
fall upon us ! The proper engine, ordained and blessed of God to this pur- 
pose, is repentance : a grace without which man can never extricate himself 
from the bondage of Satan ; a grace w^hereat, when it lights on a sinful soul, 
the devils murmur and vex themselves in hell, and the good ' angels rejoice 
in heaven,' Luke xv. This is that blessed engine that lightens the hearts of 
such a burden, that rocks and mountains and the vast body of the earth, laid 
on a distressed and desperate sinner, are corks and feathers to it, Rev. vi. 16. 

This is that which makes the eternal Wisdom content to admit a forgotful- 
ness, and to remember our iniquities no more than if they had never been. 
This speaks to mercy to separate our sins from the face of God, to bind them 
up in heaps and bundles, and drown them in the sea of oblivion. This makes 
Mary Magdalene, of a sinner a saint ; Zaccheus, of an extortioner charitable ; 
and of a persecuting Saul a professing Paul. This is that mourning master 
that is never without good attendants : tears of contrition, prayers for re- 
mission, purpose of amended life. Behold the office of repentance ; she 
stands at the door, and ofl'ers her loving sei-vice : Entertain nie and 1 will 
unlade thy heart of that evil poison, and, were it full to the brim, return it 
thee empty. If you welcome repentance, knocking at your door from God, 
it shall knock at God's door of mercy for you. It asks of you amendment, 
of God forgiveness. Receive it. 



2G8 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeEMON XVIII. 

2. The heart thus emptied of that inveterate corruption, should fitly be 
washed before it be replenished. . The old poison sticks so f;ist in the grain 
of it, that there is only one thing of validity to make it clean — the blood of 
Jesus Christ. It is this that hath bathed all hearts that ever were, or shall 
be received into God's house of glory. This ' blood cleanseth us from all 
sin,' 1 John L 7. Paul seems to infer so much, in joining to ' the spirits of 
just men made perfect, Jesus the mediator of the new covenant, and the 
blood of sprmkling, that speaketh better things than the blood of Abel,* 
Heb. xii. 23, 24 ; as if he would prove that it was this blood which made 
them just and perfect. In vain were all repentance without this : no tears 
can wash the heart clean but those bloody ones which the side of Christ 
and other parts wept, when the spear and nails gave them eyes, whiles the 
Son of eternal joy became a mourner for his brethren. Could we mourn 
like doves, howl like dragons, and lament beyond the wailings in the valley 
of Hadadrimmon, quid prosunt lachrymce, — what boots it to weep where 
there is no mercy? and how can there be mercy without the blood of 
Christ? 

This is that ever-running fountain, that sacred ' pool of Bethesda,' which, 
without the mediation of angels, stands perpetually unforbidden to all 
faithful visitants. Were our leprosy worse than Naaman's, here is the true 
water of Jordan, or pool of Siloam : ' Wash, and be clean.' Bring your 
hearts to this bath, ye corrupted sons of men. Hath God given you so pre- 
cious a laver, and will you be unclean still ? Pray, entreat, beseech, send up 
to heaven the cries of your tongues and hearts for this blood ; call upon the 
' preserver of men,' not only to distU some drops, but to wash, bathe, soak 
your hearts in this blood. Behold, the Son of God himself, that shed this 
blood, doth entreat God for you ; the whole choir of all the angels and 
saints in heaven are not wanting. Let the meditation of Christ's mediation 
for you give you encouragement and comfort. Happy son of man, for whom 
the Son of God supplicates and intercedes ! What can he request and not 
have! 

He doth not only pray for you, but even to you, ye sons of men. Behold 
him with the eyes of a Christian, faith and hope, standing on the battlements 
of heaven, having that for his pavement which is our ceiling, offering his 
blood to wash your hearts, which he willingly lost for your hearts ; denying it 
to none but wolves, bears, and goats, and such reprobate, excommunicate, 
apostate spirits that tread it under their profane and luxurious feet, esteem- 
ing that an 'unholy thing wherewith they might have been sanctified,' Heb. 
X. 29. Come we then, come we, though sinners, if believers, and have our 
hearts washed. 

3. All is not done with this vessel when washed. Shall we empty it, 
cleanse it, and so leave it ? Did not Satan re-enter to the ' house swept and 
garnished, with seven worse spirits,' Matt. xii. 44, whiles it was empty ? Be- 
hold then, when it is emptied, and washed, and sweetened, it must be filled 
again : a vacuity is not allowable. It must be replenished with somewhat, 
either evil or good. If God be not present, Satan will not be absent. When 
it is evacuated of the ' works of the flesh,' Gal. v. 24, it must be supplied with 
the ' fruits of the Spirit.' Humility nuist take up the room which pride had 
in the heart ; cliaritablencss must step into the seat of avarice ; love extrude 
malice, mildness anger, patience murnuirhig ; sobriety must dry up the floods 
of drunkeimess ; continence cool the inflammations of lust ; peace must quiet 
the head from dissensions ; honesty pull oft' hypocrisy's vizor ; and religion 
put jirofanencss to an irrevocable exile. 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 2G9 

Faith is the hand that must take these jewels out of God's treasury to 
furnish the heart ; the pipe to convey the waters of life into these vessela 
This infusion of goodness must follow the effusion of evil. God must be let 
in when Satan is locked out. If our former courses and customs, like turned- 
away abjects, proffer us their old service, let us not know them, not own 
them, not give them entertainment, not allow their acquaintance. But in a 
holy pride, as now made courtiers to the King of heaven, let us disdain the 
company of our old playfellows, opera tenebrarum, ' the works of darkness,' 
Let us now only frequent the door of mercy, and the fountain of grace ; 
and let faith and a good conscience be never out of our society. — Here is the 
supply. 

4. We have now done, if, when our hearts be thus emptied, cleansed, 
supplied, Ave so keep them. Non minor est virttis, &c. ; nay, let me say, 
I^on minor est gratia. For it was God's preventing grace that cleansed our 
hearts, and it is his subsequent grace that so preserves them ; that we may 
truly sing — 

' By grace, and grace alone, 
Ail these good works are done.' 

Yet have we not herein a patent of security and negligence sealed us, as if 
God would save us whiles we only stood and looked on ; but ' he that hath 
this hope purgeth himself,' 1 John iii. 3. And we are charged to ' keep and 
possess our vessel in sanctification and honour,' 1 Thess. iv. 4 ; and to ' live 
unspotted of the world,' James i. 27. 

Return not to your former abominations, ' lest your latter end be worse 
than your beginning,' Luke xi. 2G. Hath God done so much to make your 
hearts good, and will you frustrate his labours, annihilate his favours, y\\\- 
pend his mercies, and reel back to your former turpitudes ? God forbid it ! 
and the serious deprecation of your own souls forbid it ! 

Yea, Lord, since thou hast dealt so graciously with these frail vessels of 
flesh, — emptied them, washed them, seasoned them, supplied them, — seal 
them up with thy Spirit to the day of redemption, and preserve them, that 
the evil one touch them not. Grant this, O Father Almighty, for thy Christ 
and our Jesus's sake ! Amen. 

II. Man's sentence is yet but begun, and you will say a comma doth not 
make a perfect sense. We are now got to his colon. Having left his heart 
full of evil, we come to his madness. No marvel if, when the stomach is 
full of strong wines, the head gi-ow drunken. The heart being so filled with 
that pernicious liquor, evil, becomes drunk with it. Sobriety, a moral 
daughter, nay, reason, the mother, is lost ; he runs mad, stark mad ; this 
frenzy possessing not some out-room, but the principal seat, the heart. 

Neither is it a short madness, that we may say of it, as the poet of anger, 
furor brevis est ; but of long continuance, even during life, ' while they live.' 
Other drunkenness is by sleep expelled, but this is a perpetual lunacy. 

Considerable then is, 1. The matter; 2. The men; 3. The time. Quid, in 
quo, quamdiu, — What, in whom, and how long. Madness is the matter ; 
the place, the heart ; the time, whUes they live. The colon, or medium of 
man's sentence, spends itself in the description of — 1. A tenant, madness ; 
2. A tenement, the lieart ; 3. A tenure, while they live. 

1. Madness, 2. holds the heart, 3. during life. It is pity, 1, so bad a 
tenant, 2. hath so long time, 3. in .so good a house. 

1. The TENANT, madness. There is a double madness, corporal and spiri- 
tual. The object of the former is reason ; of the latter, religion. That 
obsesseth the brain, this the heart. That expects the help of the natural 



270 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIII. 

physician, this of tlie mystical. The difference is, this spiritual madness 
may insanire cum ratione, cum religione nunquam. The morally frantic 
may be mad with reason, never with religion. 

Physicians have put a difference betwixt frenzy and madness, imagining 
madness to be only an infection and perturbation of the foremost cell of the 
head, whereby imagination is hurt ; but the frenzy to extend further, even 
to offend the reason and memory, and is never without a fever. Galen calls 
it an inflammation of the brains, or films thereof, mixed with a sharp fever. 
My purpose needs not to be curious of this distinction. 

To understand the force of madness, we must conceive in the brain three 
ventricles, as houses assigned by physicians for three dwellers — imagination, 
reason, and memory. According to these three internal senses or faculties, 
there be three kinds of frenzies or madness : — 

(1.) There are some mad that can rightly judge of the things they see, as 
touching imagination and fantasy ; but for cogitation and reason, they 
swerve from natural judgment. 

(2.) Some being mad are not deceived so much in common cogitation and 
reason ; but they err in fantasy and imagination. 

(3.) There are some that be hurt in both imagination and reason, and they 
necessarily therewithal do lose their memories. That whereas in perfect, 
sober, and well-composed men, imagination first conceives the forms of things, 
and presents them to the reason to judge, and reason discerning them, com- 
mits them to memory to retain ; in madmen nothing is conceived aright, 
therefore nothing derived, nothing retained. 

For spiritual relation, we may conceive in the soul, understanding, reason, 
will. The understanding apprehendeth things according to their right 
natures. The reason discusseth them, arguing their fitness or inconvenience, 
validity or vanity ; and examines their desert of probation or disallowance, 
their worthiness either to be received or rejected. The will hath her par- 
ticular working, and embraceth or refuseth the objects which the understand- 
ing hatli propounded, and the reason discoursed. 

Spiritual madness is a depravation, or almost deprivation of all these 
faculties, quoad coelestia, — so far as they extend to heavenly things. For 
understanding ; the Apostle saith, 1 Cor. ii. 1 4, ' The natural man perceives 
not spiritual things, because they are spiritually discerned.' And the very 
' minds of unbelievers are blinded by the god of this world,' 2 Cor. iv. 4. 
For reason ; it judge th vanities more worthy of prosecution when they are 
absent, of embracing when they salute us : Mai. iii. 14, 'It is in vain to 
serve the Lord ; and what profit is it that we have kept his ordinance, and 
walked mournfully before him ? ' This is the voice of distracted cogitation, 
and of reason out of the wits. Ver. 15, ' We call the proud happy ; and the 
workers of wickedness are set up : yea, they that tempt God are delivered.' 
For will ; it hath lost the propenseness to good, and freedom of disposing 
itself to well-doing ; neither hath it any power of its own to stop and retard 
the precipitation to evil. 

Now, whereas they distinguish the soul in vegetabilem, that giveth life ; 
in sensibilem, that giveth feeling ; in rationaleyn, that giveth reason : the 
first desiring esse, to be ; the second bene esse, to be well ; the third opiime 
esse, to be blest, so not resthig till it be with God : behold, this spiritual 
madness enervates this last action of the soul, as the corporal endeavours to 
extinguish the two former. 

They attribute to the soul five powers : — (1.) Feeling, whereby the soul is 
moved to desire convenient things, and to eschew hurtful. (2.) Wit, wliercby 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 271 

she knoweth sensible and present things. (3.) Imagination, whereby she be- 
holdeth the likeness of bodily tilings, though absent. And these three 
virtues, say philosophers, be common to men with beiusts. (-1.) Ratio, where- 
by she judgeth between good and evil, truth and falsehood. (5.) Intellediis, 
whereby she comprehends things, not only visible, but intelligible, as God, 
angels, &c. And these two last are peculiar to man, abiding with the soul, 
living in the flesh, and after death. It beholdeth still the higher things per 
intelledum, and the lower per ratlonem. 

As corporal madness draws a thick obfuscation over these lights, so spiri- 
tual corrupts and perverts them ; that as they are strangers to heaven, quoad 
intellectum, so at last they become fools in natural things, quoad rationem. 
As the Apostle plainly, Horn. i. 28, ' Even as they did not like to retain God 
in their knowledge, so God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those 
things that are not convenient.' They that forget God shall forget nature. 
Hence ensue both these frenzies, and with them a dissimilitude to men, to 
Christian men. It is reckoned up among the curses that wait on the heels 
of disobedience : Deut. xxviii. 28, 'The Lord shall smite thee with madness, 
blindness, and astonishment of heart.' But it is a fearful accumulation of 
God's judgments and our miseries, when spiritual frenzy shall possess the 
soul, and scatter the powers of the inner man, evacuating not only imagi- 
nation, but knowledge ; not reason, but fiiith ; not sense, but conscience : 
when the opinion of the world shall repute men sober and wise, and the 
scrutiny of God shall find them madmen. 

To draw yet nearer to the point of our compass, and to discover this 
spiritual madness ; let us conceive in man's heart, for therein this frenzy 
consists, in answerable reference to those three faculties in the brain and 
powers of the soul before manifested, these three virtues, knowledge, faith, 
affections. The defect of grace, and destitution of integrity, to the cornipt- 
ing of these three, cause madness. "We will not inquire further into the causes 
of corporal frenzy ; the madness which I would mmister to is thus caused : 
a defective knowledge, a faith not well informed, affections not well reformed. 
Ignorance, unfaithfulness, and refractory desires make a man mad. 

(1.) Ignorance as a cause of this madness ; nay, it is madness itself, — sup- 
plicii causa est, suppliciumque sui. How mad are they then, that settling 
their corrupted souls on the lees of an afifected ignorance, imagine it an ex- 
cusatory mitigation of their sinfulness ! But so it beftdls them as it doth 
the frantic : hi dementiam, illi ignorantiam suani ignorant, — these are igno- 
rant of their own ignorance, as those of their madness : avoia and dfc/iicc arc 
inseparable companions. Wickedness is folly ; and ignorance of celestial 
things is either madness, or the efficient cause, or rather deficient, whereupon 
madness ensueth. Ps. xiv. 4, ' All the workers of iniquity have no know- 
ledge.' The wicked, in the day of their confusion, shall confess that the 
madness of their exorbitant courses, and their wildness, ' erring from the way 
of truth,' arose from their ignorance of the way of the Lord : ' Therefore 
have we erred from the way of truth, and the light of righteousness hath not 
shined upon us,' Wisd. v. G. WiU you hear their acknowledged reason 1 
' For the way of the Lord we have not known.' So, Wisd. xiii. 1, from the 
absent knowledge of the true God, and for want of understiinding, and con- 
fessing by the works the workmaster, the madness of idolatry is hatched. 
Ver. 18, ' For health, he calleth upon that which is weak : for life, he pray- 
eth to that which is dead : and for a good journey, ho asketli of that whivh 
cannot set a foot forward.' Through this error, they were so mad as to 
ascribe, first, to stocks and stones, insensible creatures ; secondly, to men, 



272 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIIT. 

dust and aslics ; thirdly, to wicked men, the worst of those that had a rea- 
sonable soul ; fourthly, to devils, the malicious enemies of God and men, 
'that incomparable name of God,' Wisd. xiv. 21. 

Beyond exception, without question, the authority, patronage, and original 
fatherhood of spiritual madness is the nescience of God. No marvel if ' the 
people do err in their very heart,' saith the Psalmist, the local seat of this 
madness, when 'they have not known the ways of the Lord,' Ps. xcv. 10. 
The true object oT divine knowledge is God ; and the book wherein we learn 
him is his word. How shall they scape the rocks that sail without this 
compass 1 When the frenzy hath turned the edge of common sense, frus- 
trated the power of reason, and captivated the regent-house of understanding, 
a man dreads not fire, mocks the thunder, plays at the holes of asps, and 
thrusts his hand into the mouths of lions : ignoti nee timor, nee amor ; he 
knows not the danger. 

So, whiles the supreme justice is not known, nor the avenger of wickedness 
understood, the ungodly are so mad as to ' mock at sin,' Prov. xiv. 9, to play 
at the brinks of the infernal pit, and to dally with those asps and crocodiles, 
the stinging and tormenting spirits ; to precipitate themselves into that un- 
quenched fire, to fillip the darts of thunder back again to the sender, and 
with a thirsty voracity to swallow down the dregs of the wrathful vial. 
Quid in causa nisi ignorantia ] — What hath thus distempered the heart, 
and put it into this wildness, that, without fear or wit, men run into the 
evident danger of vengeance, if not ignorance ? Prov. xxii. 3, ' A prudent 
man foreseeth the plague, and hideth himself, but the foolish run madly on, 
and are punished.' 

If the Romists were not madmen, or worse, they would never set up igno- 
rance as a lamp to light men to heaven ; assuring it for the dam to produce, 
and nurse with her cherishing milk to batten devotion ; when it is indeed an 
original cause of madness, the mother of error and wildness, making man's 
way to bliss more uncertain than Hannibal's on the Alps, or a lark's in the 
air. The truth is, know to know, and be wise ; know to obey, and be happy. 
* This is eternal life, to know God, and his Son whom he hath sent, Jesus 
Christ.' Labour to understand the Bible, lest thou undergo the curses of it. 
Lege historiam, ne jias historia. St Paul, after the recitation of many fearful 
judgments, concludes : ' Now all these things happened unto them for en- 
samplcs, and are written for our admonition,' &c., 1 Cor. x. 11. If we will 
not be admonished by these ensamples, we may become ensamples ourselves, 
histories of madness to future generations. Let the Papists call ignorance 
by never so tolerable and gentle names, it is ignorance still, still cause of 
madness. If madness may bring to heaven, there is hope for these Avilfully 
ignorant. 

(2.) Unfaithfulness is a sufficient cause of madness. Faith is the Christian 
man's reason. Now on the privation of reason must needs follow the posi- 
tion of madness. For shall the Creator of heaven and earth, the eternal 
Justice, and infallible Truth afltirm ? Shall he swear, will you put him to 
his oath, and that by ' two immutable things,' the best in heaven and the 
best on earth ? Will you have him set his hand to it, and write it with his 
own finger? Dare you not yet trust him without a seal? Must he seal it 
with that bloody wax in the impression of death on his Son 1 Must you have 
witnesses, three on earth and as many in heaven, when the King of kings 
might well write. Teste meipso ? And will you not yet believe him ? !■=; there 
no credit from your hearts to all these promises, attestations, protestations, 
signs, seals t Will not these, all these, signify, certify, satisfy your souls of 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 273 

that uncliangeable truth ? Surely you are mad, haplessly, hopclcs.sly mad, 
uumeasurably out of your spiritual wits. Were you as deeply gone iu a 
corporal frenzy, I would sigh out your desperate case : — 

' Hei mihi, quod nullis ratio est medicabilis herbls I ' 

Shall the Lord threaten judgments ? Woe to him that trembles not ! 
Non sapient, sentient tamen. Hell was not made for nothing. The vanguard 
of that accursed departing rabble, the ringleaders of the crew that daiu-e to 
hell, are unbelievers, Rev. xxi. 8. An unsettled heart, accompanied with in- 
credulity : ' If ye will not believe, surely ye shall not be establishetl,' Isa. 
vii. 9. Neither are they that believe not gathered within the pale and fold 
of the church, but wander like straggling goats and wild beasts on the moun- 
tains and forests of this world. Hereupon through the improvident and 
incircumspect courses that mad infidelity keeps, the soul stumbles at the 
rock, and is broken by that which might have been her eternal safety, 1 Pet. 
iL 7, 8. They that wander from the mounds and bounds of faith, madly 
invite dangers to salute them. Suh dypeo Jidei, et suhsidio virtiitis vir tutus, 
— But where faith is not our proctor, nor is providence our protector, what 
shall shield us in the absence of faith ? Not Solon, not Solomon, a wise 
man among the GeutUes, a wiser among the Christians ; but grow mad in the 
deficiency of faith. 

Men see by unanswerable arguments that the hand of God is too strong 
for sinners ; that the least touch of his finger staggers their lives, their souls ; 
that he sends his executioner, death, to call the wicked away, and that in a 
more horrid shape than to others ; arming him with plague, murder, distraction, 
destruction, and that often with suddenness. They behold that cadit corpus, 
inde cadaver ; sepelitur, seponitur, — the body dies and turns to rottenness. 
They know their own building to be made of the same loam and dust, and 
therefore liable to that common and equal law. Frequent examples of God's 
immediate vengeance are added to the ancient trophies and monuments of 
his former desolations ; spectacles set up in the vast theatre of this world, 
whereof, quocunque sub axe, whithersoever thou tumest thine eyes, thou 
must needs be a spectator. Shall we still think that solumviodo pereunt, ut 
pereant, vel ut pereundo cdios deterreant, — they only perish to perish, and 
not to terrify others, threatening the like wretchedness to the like wicked- 
ness ? Surely the judgments of God should be like his thunders : poena ad 
paucos, terror ad omnes, — whilst some fidl, others should fear. They that 
will not take example by others shall give example to others. 

But we see those that are as ripe in lewdness draw long and peaceable 
breaths ; neither is" it the disposition of a singular jiower, but the contin- 
gency of natural causes that thus worketh. Take heed ; it is not the Ie\-ity 
but the lenity of God, not the weakness of his arm, but the mercy of his 
patience, that thus forbeareth thee. ' The Lord is not slack, as some count 
slackness ; but is long-suffering to us-ward,' itc, 2 Pet. iii. 9. If this gentle 
physic make thee madder, he hath a dark chamber to put thee in, — a dun- 
geon is more lightsome and delightsome, — the grave ; bands of darkness to 
restrain thy outrages, and potions of brimstone to tame and weaken thy per- 
verseness. Then will he demonstrate actually, Nemo me impune lacessit, 
— No man shall provoke me unpunished. 

Infidelity of God's judgment is madness ; imbelief of his mercies hath 

never been counted less. What is it else to refu.se the offer of that ' Lamb 

which takes away the sins of the world,' John i. 29, and to cut oflf ourselves 

from that universal promise ? Moritur Chiistus pro indiyenis, pro indi</nis ; 

VOL. L s 



274 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeKMON XVIII. 

and spreads out his arms on the cross to embrace both. Jew and Gentile. 
Why does not God give faith ? I answer with that father,* Non ideo non 
habes /clem quia Deics non dat, sed quia tu non accipis, — Thou dost not 
therefore lack faith because God doth not offer it, but because thou wilt not 
accept it. 

The name of Jesus Christ is, saith St Augustine, nomen, sub quo nemini 
desperandum est, — a name able to defend us from desperation. But there are 
many implacable threatenings against our giiiltiness. There are none impla- 
cable to faith ; none without reservation of mercy to repentance. Every 
conditional proposition hath two parts : the former suspendeth the sentence, 
and is called the antecedent ; the latter concludeth the sentence, and is called 
the consequent. The first, nil ponit in esse, as a conditional promise in- 
ferreth nothing, but deriveth all force and virtue from the connexion, whereof 
it dependeth. So in menaces, there is either some presupposed cause or 
after concession, wherein it inferreth a consequence: If thou hast sinned; if 
thou dost not repent. There is place for remission with God, if there be place 
for repentance in thy own heart. 

If, then, distrust of God's mercy be not madness, what is? when it 
causeth a man to break that league of kindness which he oweth to his own 
flesh, and offers to his hand engines of his own destruction, evermore pre- 
senting his mind with halters, swords, poisons, pistols, ponds ; disquieting 
the heart with such turbulent and distracting cogitations, till it hath adjured 
the hands to imbrue themselves in their own blood, to the incurring of a 
sorer execution from the justice of God 1 Is he not mad that will give credit 
to the father of lies rather than to the God of truth 1 When God promiseth 
to penitence the wiping away her tears, the binding up her wounds, and 
healing her sores ; and the devil denieth it, giving it for impossible to have 
the justice of God satisfied, and thy sins pardoned ; behold, darkness is be- 
lieved rather than light, and falsehood is preferred to truth. 

Be not thus lion-like in your houses and frantic in your hearts, mad in 
your desperate follies ; to shut up heaven when the Lord hath opened it ; to 
renew that score which he hath wiped ; and when he hath pulled you out of 
the fire, to run into it again : like tigers, to tear and devour your own souls, 
which that blood of eternal merit hath freed from the dragon of hell. It is 
not a light and inferior degree of madness, but a desperate, when the phy- 
sician (even he of heaven) shall promise help to a sore, and apply plasters 
of his own blood to it, the patient shaU thrust his nails into it, and answer. 
Nay, it shall not be healed. This sin is like that fourth beast, in the 7 th of 
Daniel, without distinction of name or kind : ' dreadful, terrible, exceedingly 
strong ; and it had great iron teeth,' &c. The lion, bear, leopard are tame 
and gentle in regard of this beast. It is desperate madness ; that grinds the 
poor -with his iron teeth, and stamps his own heart under his malignant feet, 
and dasheth against God himself with his horns of blasphemy. 

It is, then, clearer than the day that the darkness of infidelity is frenzy, 
whether (as it hath been instanced) it be presumptuous against God's justice, 
or desperate against his mercy. For who but a madman would hope for 
impunity to his wilfully-continued sins, where he visibly perceives that jjecca- 
tum peccantem necessitat morti, — that iniquity gives soul and body liable to 
condemnation, and objects them to the unappeasable WTath of God ? And 
yet who but a madman, having sinned, will despair of forgiveness, when the 
mercy of God hath allowed a place to repentance ? ' Turn and live,' saith the 
Lord j ' for I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth,' EzeL xviii. 32. 
• Aug. 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 275 

(3.) Refractory and perverse affections make a man frantic. This is a 
speediDg cause, and fails not to distemper the soul whereof it hath gotten 
mastery. There may be, first, a sober knowledge, that the patient may s;iy, 
Video meliora, I see better things ; and, secondly, a faith, (but such as is 
incident to de\ils,) Proboque, I allow of them ; but, thirdly, where the 
whole man is tyrannised over by the regent-house of irrefragable alTocts, De- 
teriora sequor, he concludes his course with, I follow the worse. Observe 
the Philistines crying, 1 Sam. iv. 7, ' God is come into the camp ; woe unto 
us ! ' (fee. Yet they settle, hearten, harden themselves to fight against him. 
Ver. 8, ' Woe unto us ! who shall deliver us out of the hand of these mighty 
Gods?' Yet, ver. 9, 'Be strong, and quit yourselves like men, O ye PliilLs- 
tines : quit yourselves like men, and fight.' Twice they behold their Dagon 
' fallen down before the ark,' chap, v., yet Dagon must be their god still, and 
the ark is only reverenced for a ne noceat. 

How many run mad of this cause, inordinate and furious lusts ! If men 
could send their understandings, like spies, down into the well of their hearts, 
to see what obstructions of sin have stopped their veins, those springs that 
erst derived health and comfort to them, they should find that male afficiitn- 
tur, quia male afficiunt, — their mad affects have bad eff"ects ; and the evil- 
disposedness of their souls ariseth from the want of composedness in their 
affections. The prophet Jeremuvh, chap. ii. 24, compareth Israel to *a swift 
dromedary, traversing her ways,' and to a ' wild ass used to the wilderness, 
that snufleth up the wind at her pleasure.' ' Be ye not,' saith the Psalmo- 
grapher, ' as the horse and mule, which have no understanding ; whose 
mouth must be held in with bit and bridle,' Ps. xxxii. 9. Men have under- 
standing, not beasts ; yet when the frenzy of lust overwhelmeth their senses, 
we may take up the word of the prophet and pour it on them : ' Every man 
is a beast by his own knowledge.' And therefore man that is in ' honour, 
and understandeth not, is like unto beasts that perish/ Ps. xlLx. 20. Did 
not the bridle of God's overruling providence restrain their madness, they 
would cast off the saddle of reason, and kick nature itself in the face. 

This is that which Solomon calls the wickedness of folly, foolishness, 
and madness, Eccles. vii. 25 ; a contiimal deviation from the way of righteous- 
ness ; a practical frenzy ; a roving, wandering, vagrant, extravagant course, 
which knows not which way to fly, nor where to light, except like a dor * in 
a dunghill ; an opinion without ground, a going without a path, a purjjose 
to do it knows not what, a getting and loshig, bending and breaking, build- 
ing up and pulling down ; conceiving a multitude of thoughts with much 
anxiety, and with a sudden neglect scattering them. As that woman who, 
being long barren, by studying and practising physic, became pregnant to 
the bearing of many children ; upon whom she afterward exercising the 
same skill, brought them all to an untimely grave : so 

* Per eandem redditur artem 
Hacc Meda;a ferox, qua) inedicaca fuit.' 

So madly do these frantics spend their time and strengths, by doing and 
imdoing, tying hard knots and untying them, affecting the issue of their own 
brains not a day together, and destroying much seed in the birth of their 
thoughts, because the conccpticm now pleaseth them not. The proverb saith, 
that the most wild are in least danger to be stark mad ; but here, wild- 
ncss is madness, and indefatigal)le frenzy ; an erring star resen'cd for the 
black darkness ; a rolling stone that never gathers any moss to stay it ; an 
* I suppose, a dormouse. — Ed. 



276 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIII. 

incessant and impetuous fury, that never ceaseth roving and raving till it 
come to the centre, hell. 

Thus I have endeavoured to demonstrate madness, in the true definition, 
form, and colours. But as a man cannot so well judge of a sum whiles it 
lies in the heap, as when it is told and numbered out ; if this united and 
contracted presentation of madness be not so palpable in your conceits as 
you would desire it, behold, to your farther satisfaction, I come to particu- 
lars. The whole denominates the parts : as all of water is water ; all of 
flesh, flesh ; so every wilfid sin is madness. Doubtless, when we come to 
this precise distribution and narrow scrutiny, to the singling out of frenzies, 
you will bless yourselves that there are so few bedlam-houses, and yet so 
many out of their wits. 

Stultorum -plena sunt omnia, — It were no hard matter to bring all the 
world into the compass of a fool's cap. I dare not go so far ; only magna 
est fleniiudo hominum, magna solitudo sapientu7n, — there is great plenty of 
men, and no scarcity of madmen. Plurima pessima, — The most are not the 
best. Pretiosa non numerosa, — Vile things breed as plentifully as mountain- 
mice. Goodness, like the rail, flies alone ; but madmen, like partridges, by 
coveys. Nay, we may say. Magna solitudo hominum, if it be true that 
Lactantius says : Nemo potest jure did homo, nisi qui sapiens est, — He is not 
a man that is a madman. The fool is but imago hominis, — the shadow or 
resemblance of a man. The world is full of madmen, and the madder it is, 
the less it is sensible of its own distraction. Semel i7isanivimus omnes, — We 
have been all once mad, is too true a saying ; some in youth, others in age. 
The first is more obvious and common, wildness is incident to youth ; the 
latter more perilous, and of less hope to be reclaimed. If we must be mad, 
better young than old ; but better not to be born than be mad at all, if the 
mercy of God and grace of Jesus Christ recollect us not. In the words of a 
poet— 

'All are once mad ; this holds for too strong truth : 
Blest man, whose madness comes and goes in youth ! ' 

I promised to particularise and set open the gates of bedlam, to leave 
madness as naked as ever sin left the first propagators of it and mankind. 
The epicure shall lead the ring, as the foreman of this mad morisco : — 

(1.) The Epicure. — I would fain speak not only of him, but with him. 
Can you tend it, beUy-god 1 The first question of my catechism shall be, 

* What is your name 1 ' ' Epicure.' ' Epicure ! what is that ? Speak not so 
philosophically, but tell us, in plain dealing, what are you 1 ' ' " A lover of 
pleasure more than of God," 2 Tim. iii. 4, — <pi\rjhovoi ju^aXKov ?5 <piX6dioi. One 
that makes much of myself ; born to live, and living to take mine ease. One 
that would make my belly my executor, and bequeath all my goods to con- 
sumption, for the consummation of my own delights.' ' Ho ! a good fellow, 
a merry man, a madman ! What is your summum honum ? ' ' Pleasure.' 

* Wherein consists it 1 Rehearse the articles of your belief.' ' I believe that 
delicacies, junkets, quotidian feasts, suckets, and marmalades are very delect- 
able. I believe that sweet wines and strong drinks — the best blood of the 
grape, or sweat of the corn — are fittest for the belly. I believe that midnight 
revels, perfumed chambers, soft beds, close curtains, and a Delilah in mine 
arms, are very comfortable. I believe that glittering silks and sparkling 
jewels, a purse full of golden charms, a house neatly decked, gardens, 
orchards, fish-ponds, parks, warrens, and whatsoever may yield pleasurable 
stuffing to the corpse, is a very heaven upon earth. I believe that to sleep 
till dinner, and play till supper, and quaff till midnight, and to dally tiU 



EcCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BKDLAM. 277 

morning, except there be some iiitennission to toss some painted papers, or 
to whirl about squared bones, with as many oaths and curses, vomited »jut in 
an hour, as would serve the devil himself for a legacy or stock, to bequeath 
to any of his children : this is the most absolute and perfect end of man's 
life.' 

Now a deft creed, fit to stand in the devil's catechism. Is not this mad- 
ness, stark and starmg madness I What is the Hesh which thou pam[»urest 
with such indidgence i As thou feedest beasts to feed on them, duesl thuu 
not fat thy Hesh to fat the worms? Go, Heliogabalus, to thy pru^iarcd 
muniments, the monuments of thy folly and madness; thy tower is pohslied 
with precious stones and gold, but to break thy neck from the top <>f it, if 
need be ; thy halters enwoveu with pearl, but to hang thyself, if need be ; 
thy sword enamelled, hatched with gold, and embossed vnth margurites, but 
to kill thyself, if need be. Yet, for all this, death prevents thy preparation, 
and thou must fall into thine enemy's hands. 

Thou Lmaginest felicity to consist in liberty, and liberty to be nothing else 
but putestas vivendi ut veils, — a power to live as thou list. Alas, how mad 
art thou ! Thou wilt not live as thou shouldst, thou canst not live as thou 
wouldst ; thy life and death is a slavery to sin and hell. Tut, post vwrttni 
nulla voluplus; and here, ver. 4, ' It is better to be a Living dog than a dead 
lion.' Thou art mad; for, 'for all these things thou must come unto judg- 
ment.' 

Ho\v many of these madmen ramble about this city ! — that lavish out their 
short times in this confused distribution of playing, dicing, drmking, feast- 
ing, beasting ; a cupping-house, a vaulting-house, a gaming-house, share their 
means, lives, souls. They watch, but they pray not ; they fast when they 
have no money, and steal when they have no credit : and revelling the whole 
week, day and night, only the Sunday is reserved for sleep, and for no other 
cause respected. Be not mad, as the Apostle saith : Eph. v. G, ' Be not 
deceived : for because of these things cometh the wrath of God on the chil- 
dren of disobedience.' Are not these madmen, that buy the merry madness 
of an hour with the eternal agonies of a tormented conscience ? 

(2.) The PKOUD is the next madman I would have you take view of in 
this bedlam. The proud man, or rather the proud woman, or rather h<xc 
aquila, both he and she : for if they had no more evident distinction of 
sex than they have of shape, they would be all man, or rather all woman ; 
for the Amazons bear away the bell: as one wittily, hic mulier will shortly 
be good Latin, if this transmigration hold ; for whether on horseback or 
on foot, there is no great difference, but not discernible out of a coach. If 
you praise their beauty, you raise their glory ; if you commend them, com- 
mand them. Admiration is a poison that swells them till they burst, — 

' Laudatas extendit avis Junonia pennas.' 

Is not this madness] De ignorantia tui, venit in te superhia* — Self- 
ignorance is the original of pride. Is not he mad that knows not himself? 
Quanta quis humilior, ianto Christo similior, — Humility is Christ's resem- 
blance, pride the devil's physiognomy. Is he not mad that would rather be 
like Satan than God ? Humility is begun by the information of Chri.st, 
wrought by the reformation of the Spirit, manifestetl in conformation to obe- 
dience. But pride, saith Augustine, nU mentem possederit, erigcinlo dfjidt, 
injlainmando evacuat, d dontina dcstniif, (i>iain inhabitat, — Pride castL-th down 
by lifting up, by filling emptieth, and destroys the house where it mhabitetb. 
* Bern. 



278 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIII. 

If superhire be supra regulam ire, then is pride extravagancy and madness : 
a pernicious, perilous sin, that entraps even good works; quod bonis ope- 
ribiis insidiatur* 

Do you think there is no pride, no madness in the land 1 Ask the sUk- 
men, the mercers, the tirewomen, the complexion-sellers, the coachmakers, 
the apothecaries, the embroiderers, the featherers, the perfumers, and, above 
all, as witnesses beyond exception, the tailors. If you cast up the debt-books 
of the others, and the fearful bills of the last, you shall find the total sum, 
pride and madness. Powders, liquors, unguents, tinctures, odours, ornaments 
derived from the livmg, from the dead, — palpable instances and demonstrative 
indigitations of pride and madness. Such translations and borrowing of 
forms, that a silly countryman walking the city can scarce say. There goes a 
man, or. There a woman. Woman, as she was a human creature, bore the 
image of God ; as she was a woman, the image of man ; now she bears the 
image of man indeed, but in a cross and mad fashion, almost to the quite 
defacing of the image of God. Howsoever, that sex will be the finer, the 
prouder, the madder ; for pride and madness are of the feminine gender. 
They have reason for it. Man was made but of earth ; woman of refined 
earth, being taken out of man, who was taken out of the earth ; therefore 
she arrogates the costlier ornaments, as being the purer dust. Alas, how 
incongruous a connexion is fine dust, proud clay ! The attribute is too good 
for the subject. 

A certain man desired to see Constantine the Great ; whom intentively 
beholding, he cried out, I thought Constantine had been some greater thing, 
but now I see he is nothing but a man. To whom Constantine answered 
with thanks, Tu solus es, qui in me ocidos apertos hahuisti, — Thou only hast 
looked on me with open and true-judging eyes. nohiles magis quam 
fcelices pannos, may many great men say of their stately robes ; nay, hono- 
randa, magis quam honesta, vestimenta, may proud creatures say of theirs. 
What is a silken coat to hide aches, fevers, imposthumes, swellings, the 
merited poisons of lust, when we may say of the body and the disease, as of 
man" and wife, for their incorporation of one to the other. Duo sunt in cai'ne 
una,- — They are two in one flesh ! 

There is mortality in that flesh thou so deckest, and that skin which is so 
bepainted with artificial complexion shall lose the beauty and itself. Detra- 
hetur novissimum velamentum cutis. You that saU betwLxt heaven and earth 
in your four-sailed vessels, as if the ground were not good enough to be the 
pavement to the soles of your feet, know that the earth shall one day set her 
foot on your necks, and the slime of it shall defile your sulphured bodies. 
Dust shall fill up the wrinkled furrows which age makes and paint supplies. 
Your bodies were not made of the substance whereof the angels, nor of the 
nature of stars, nor of the matter whereof the fire, air, water, and inferior 
creatures. Remember your tribe, and your father's poor house, and the pit 
whereout you were hewn. Hannibal is at the gates, death stands at your 
doors ; be not proud, be not mad — you must die. 

(3.) The LUSTFUL is not to be missed in this catalogue. The poet calls 
amantes, amentes ; taking, or rather mistaking, love for lust. Indeed it is 
insana libido, a witch that with her powerful charms intoxicates the heart. 
A father contemplating in liis meditations how it came to pass that our fore- 
fathers in the uifancy of the world had so many wives at once, answers him- 
self, Certe cum/uit consuetudo, -non fuit cidpa, — Whiles it was a custom, it 
was scarce held a fault. We may say no less of our days. Lasciviousnesa 
* August. 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL HEDL^VM. L'7'J 

is SO wonted a companion for our gallants, that in their sense it hath lust tho 
name of being a sin. They call it majtiatum Uidum, and su derive to them- 
selves authority of imitation. 

But still, Quce te dementia cepit ? Thou art mad whiles incontiueut. Is 
it not malum sui diffusicum, — a saucy sin, a costly disease 1 Yet, were it 
cheap to the purse, is it not the price of blood ? Can all your provocatives, 
eidiveniugs, and fomenting preservatives prevent the wasting of your mar- 
rows ? Chamber- work will dry the bones. ' If my heart,' saith Job, ' hath 
been deceived by a woman, it is a fire that consumeth to destruction, and 
would root out all mine increase,' chap. xxxL 9, 12. Luxur'uuii sequitur 
dimpatio omnis, — Luxury is attended on by a general consumption: — Fiist, 
of substance, Pro v. vi. 2(j, ' By means of a whorish woman a man is brought 
to a piece of bread.' Secondly, of body. Tremores pedum, et articulorum 
general depnvationem, — It weakens the limbs and unties the joints, those 
knots whereby the body is trussed together. St Paul calls it a ' sin against 
a man's own body,' 1 Cor. vi. 18. Thirdly, of name. ' A wound and di.s- 
honour will he get, and his reproach shall not be wiped away,' Prov. vi. 33. 
Even when he shall depart his place, the world, he leaves an evil memorial, 
a bad savour, behind him. 

I would mention the loss of his soul too ; but that he cares not for : the 
other he would seem to love, then how mad is he to endanger them ] If thou 
be not mad, away with these /omenta luxuiioe ; feed nature, not appetite. 
Naturoi nihil par um, appetitui nihil satis. Qui minus tradit corpori, (£uam 
debet corpori, civem necat: qui tradit plus corpori, quani debet corpori, haste in 
nutrit, — As he that allows less to his body than he owes to his body, kills 
his own friend ; so he that gives more to his body than he owes to his body, 
nourisheth his enemy. Thou complainest of original evil in thy flesh, yet 
nourishest what thou complainest against. Caro non est mala, si malo careat. 
But Christ was more favourable to the adulteress, and sent her away with 
impunity; yet not in allowance to the \'ice of the accused, but to convince 
the wickedness of the accusers, John viii. 7-11. Putacit lapidandam, non 
ct lapidandis. Noluit talem, noluit a talibus; — He might think her worthy 
to die, but not by them that were worthy to die. He would not have her 
polluted, nor yet to perish by so polluted hands. I conclude the madness of 
these men with the poet — 

^ ' Ludit amor sensus, oculos perstringit, et aufert 

Libertatem animi, et mira nos fa^cinat arte. 
Credo, aliquis diemon subiens praicordia tiarumam 
Concitat, et raptam tollit de cardine mentem. 
Amor est et amarus et error.' 

* Lust blinds the senses, and with witching art 
Brings into fatal servitude the heart. 
A subtle fiend, the cause and plague of badness. 
Poisons the blood, and fills the brain with madnese.' 

If they will not see this yet, (as what frantic man perceives his own mad- 
ness ]) they shall feel it under the hands of an HI surgeon on earth, or a worse 
in hell. 

(4.) The HYPOCRITE plays the madman mider covert and concealment. 
He is proud under the shadow of humility. But he cannot .siiy with David, 
Ps. cxxxi. 1, ' Mine heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty ;' ('<"• ct ocuU, 
fons et rivuli. The tongue that brags of humility deserves little credit 
Frons, vultus, oculi sa'pe mentiuntur ; lingua veru supissime, — The forehead, 
eyes, and countenance do often deceive, the tongue most commonly. The 



280 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIII. 

worst iun hath sometimes the bravest sign, and the baser metal the loudest 
sound. Turpiora sunt vitia cum virlutum i<per.ie celantur* — Vices are then 
more ugly when they have put on the robes of virtues. Ilypocrita solus 
vult omnibus videri melior, et solus est omnibus pej or, \ — The hypocrite would 
seem bettor than any man, and is indeed the worst of all men. His respect 
is not to the reward of virtue, but regard of men ; as if virtue were not sibimet 
pulchemma merces, — a sufficient compensation to itself Being the sou of a 
handmaid, and a bramble indeed, as Jotham spake of Abimelech, Judges ix., 
he brags as much of his shadow as either vine, olive, fig-tree, or the tallest 
cedar in Lebanon. 

He mourns for his sins, as a hasty heir at the death of his father. Hoeredis 
luctus sub larva, risus est, — He is at once a close mourner and a close re- 
joicer. When the wicked man counterfeits himself good, he is then worst 
of aU. Dissembled sanctity is double iniquity, quia et iniquitas est et simw- 
latio, — because it is both sin and simulation. Hypocrites are like jugglers, 
that shew tricks of legerdemain, seeming to do the tricks they do not, by 
casting a mist before men's eyes. Howsoever it was once said, Stultitiam, 
simulare loco, i^^'udentia summa est ; I think it not so intolerable as the 
speech of Protagoras in Plato, somewhat agreeing to Machiavel : He is a mad- 
man that cannot counterfeit justice and dissemble integrity. I am here 
rather occasioned to say, He is a madman that doth counterfeit good things, 
because he doth but counterfeit. And in that great epiphany and manifes- 
tation of the secrets of all hearts, he shall be found a madman. Meantime, 
he is a frantic too, for he incurs the world's displeasure in making a shew of 
godliness, God's double displeasure in making but a shew. He that would 
purchase the hatred both of God and man, is he less than mad ? 

(5.) The AVAEOus is a jDrincipal in this bedlam. Soft ! if it were granted 
that the covetous were mad, the world itself would run of a garget ; for who 
is not bitten with this mad dog % It is the great cannon of the devil, charged 
with chain-shot, that hath killed charity in almost all hearts. A poison of 
three sad ingredients, whereof who hath not (to speak sparingly) tasted? 
Insatiability, rapacity, tenacity. In concupiscendo, acquirendo, retinendo. 
Covetousness hath three projierties, saith Ambrose, Coticupiscere aliena, ca- 
pita invadere, celare quod invadit, — to covet not her own, to get what she 
covets, and to keep what she gets. And yet, O Avarous ! why art thou so 
mad after money ? Non habentes inficit, habentes non reficit, — it hurts them 
that it possesseth, and helps not them that possess it. The brood that 
covetousness hatcheth is an offspring intricated with cares terrestrial, in- 
fected with desires carnal, blinded with passions, subjected to affections, 
infirmed by tentations, informed by lusts, enfolded in errors, in ambiguities 
difficidt, obnoxious to suspicions. Is he not mad that will foster in his 
bosona a dam with such a damned litter 1 

Tria retia hahet diabolus in mundum extensa: ut quicquid evaserit de 
retibus f/ulce, inddat in retia inanis glorioe; et quicquid evasei'it his, callidius 
capiatur retibus avaritias. De his nullus perfecte evasit ; :{:— The devil's three 
nets are riot, vain-glory, covetousness. The second catcheth them that scape 
the first ; and the last misseth not to apprehend them that are delivered 
from both the former : ' He that flies from the lion, the bear meets hun,' 
A.mos v, 19; and those that escape both these, the serpent (covetousness) 
bites : not unlike the prediction of God to Elias, 1 Kings xix. 17, concern- 
ing Hazacl, Jehu, and Elisha, whom he was commanded to anoint : * It 

* Jerom. ad Celant. f Hugo de vita claustrali. 

X CIiryB. Horn. 6 in Math, 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 281 

shall come to pass, that he that escapeth the sword of HazacI shall Jehu 
slay; and him that scapeth from the sword of Jehu shall l^lisha slay.' 

If this be madness, who are well in their wits ? And yet madness it is, 
and infatuate frenzy. What is it else, to forsake Paradise for Sodom, 
heaven for earth, God for Mammon, whenas (by most irreconcilable enmity) 
they caimot be embraced at once ? Howsoever, you will say, those tilings you 
covet are good creatures, and call them goods ; yet no good man will account 
those goods good for him that cannot command his affections to their sober 
usage. He that shall prefer profit to virtue, his body to his soul, his purse 
to his body, his eye to his purse, time to eternity, let him go for a madman. 

The epicure feeds one fowl a hundred times, that it may feed him but 
once ; the covetous feeds his purse a thousand times, and starves himself. 
He cares not to destroy his soul to please his lu.st, yet for the salvation of 
his soul will not hold his purse short of the smallest gain. To conclude : the 
god whom he serves cannot help him ; the God whom he should serve will 
not help him, because he hath forsaken him. There is no other help or hope 
to reclaim the avarous, but ' Lord, have mercy on them, for they are lunatic 
and sore vexed ;' as that f;ither spake of Ids possessed son, ^Matt. xvii. 15. 
' Lunatic' they are perpetually, and not at some fits by the moon, as that 
word seems to intimate. ' Sore vexed,' with the implacable, insatiable, tur- 
bulent distraction of their own spirits ; not without accession of all those 
solicitations which the infernal spirits can suggest ; all for gain. ' Oft-times 
they fall into the fire, and oft into the water :' their epileptic courses now 
drive them into the fire of malice and dissension, now plunge and drown 
them in the floods of oppression, tUl the inundation of their cruelty have 
spoiled the whole country, and themselves at last are suffocated in their 
own deluge. They may be ' brought to the disciples,' the ministers of Christ, 
but ' they cannot cure them,' ver. 1 6. Alas ! this frenzy is hard to heal. 
Though they be neither faithless nor perverse, negatively ; though they strive 
by fasting and prayer, aflSrmatively, ver. 17; avoid they evil impediments, 
or use they good means ; this kind of devil will not out, covetousness wUl 
not be expelled. Only ' Lord, have mercy on them,' ver. 21 ; convince them, 
convert them, for they are madmen. 

(6.) The USTJEER would laugh to hear himself brought into the number 
of madmen. He sits close, and is quiet at home, whiles madness rambles 
abroad. He holds others in bonds, is in no bonds himself; he stands so 
much upon law, you cannot judge him lawless. He would not come near a 
tavern door, where madness roars ; he keeps a succinct course, and walks in 
an even pace to hell. Slander him not for one of bedlam ; yet he is mad, 
raving, roaring mad ; and that by the verdict of God in the pen of Solomon : 
Eccles. vii. 7, ' Surely oppression maketh a man mad.' 

It is indeed a thriving occupation. Usury is like that Persian tree, that 
at the same time buds, blossoms, and boars fruit. The moneys of interest 
are evermore, some ripe for the tnmk, others drawing to maturity, the rest 
in the flower approaching, all in the bud of hope. But he is mad ; for his 
sin at once buds, blossonis, and brings forth the fruit of vengeance. Every 
bond he takes of others enters him into a new obligaticm to Satan ; a.s he 
hopes his debtors will keep day with him, the devil expects no less of him- 
self. Every forfeit he takes scores up a new debt to Lucifer ; and every 
mortgaged land he seizeth on enlargcth hi.s dominions in hell. 

But why do you call this benefit made of our money usury and madness? 
It is but usance, and husbanding of our stocL So by a new name given to 
your old sins, you will think to escape the censure of madmea Thus I have 



282 MYSTICAL BEDLAM, [SeRMON XVITI. 

read of the people of Bengala, who are so much afraid of tigers that they 
dare not call them tigers, but give them other gentle names : as some 
physicians, that will not call their impatient patients' disease madness, but 
melancholy. But let the Bengalans call them what they will, they are tigers 
still ; and give usury what name you please, (for what usurer is not ashamed 
to be called so ?) it is mere madness. He is mad that * calls evil good,' and 
sour sweet, Isa. v. 20 ; but he is no slanderer that calls usury madness. It 
is no less, when the eternal God in his word shall condemn usury to heU, 
still to prosecute it with hope of heaven. 

But many learned men are patrons and patterns for it. They are as mad 
as you ; and learn you by their madness to become sober. A liquid auxilii 
est, aliena insania fnii, — There is some benefit usefully to be made by 
another man's exemplary madness. Were it more questionable, yet he is no 
less mad, that will venturously do what he is not sure is safe to be done, 
than he that, having a whole field to walk in, will yet go on a deep river's 
dangerous bank. He is in more danger to topple in, and therefore a mad- 
man. It were good for the commonwealth if all these madmen, the usurers, 
were as safe and fast bound in a local, as they are in spiritual bedlam. 

(7.) The AMBITIOUS man must be also thrust into this bedlam, though 
his port be high, and he thinks himself indivisible from the court. Whiles he 
beholds the stars, with Thales, he forgets the ditch ; and yawning so wide 
for preferment, contempt is easily thrown into his mouth. I have read of 
Menecrates a physician, that would needs be counted a god, and took no 
other fee of his patients but their vow to worship him. Dionysius SjTacu- 
sanus hearing of this, invited him to a banquet ; and to honour him accord- 
ing to his desire, set before him nothing but a censer of frankincense ; with 
the smoke whereof he was feasted till he starved, whiles others fed on good 
meat. This shewed the great naturalist a natural fool, a madman. Sapor, a 
Persian king, wrote himself. Rex regum, f rater solis et lunce, particeps siderum, 
&c., — King of kings, brother to the sun and moon, and partner with the stars. 
Yet, alas ! he was a man ; therefore a macbnan, in the arrogation of his style. 

Let the Eoman canonists turn their Pope into a new nature, which is 
neither God nor man ; they are mad that give it him, and he is mad to accept it. 
Let Edom exalt herself as the eagle, and set her nest among the stars, Obad. 
4 ; yet, saith God, the pride of thine heart hath deceived thee. Let the 
prince of Tyrus imagine himself to sit in the seat of God, Ezek. xxviii. 2 ; 
' Wilt thou yet say before him that kdleth thee, I am God 1 but thou shalt 
be a man, and no God, before him that slayeth thee,' ver. 9, Let Sennache- 
rib think to dry up rivers with the sole of his foot ; and Antiochus to sail on 
the mountains — 

* Quid sibi fert tanto dignum promissor hiatu?' — 

What events have answered their grand intendments but madness ? 

Eusebius reports of Simon Magus, that he would be honoured as a god, 
and had an altar with this inscription, To Simon the holy god j which it 
seemed his harlot Helena did instigate. But when, by the power of the 
devil, he presumed to fly up to heaven, at the command of St Peter, the un- 
clean spirit brake his neck. He climbed high, but he came down with a 
vengeance. His miserable end shewed Mm an ambitious man, a madman. 
Soar not too high, yc sons of Anak ; strive not to attain heaven by multi- 
plying of earth, like Babel-builders : Feriunl summosfidyura montes. Though 
you aspu-e m glory, you shall expire hi ignominy. If you were not frantic, 
you would sistere c/radum, keep your stations, know when you are well, and 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 283 

give a fiat to liis will tliat hath placed you in a site happiest for you. You 
arc mad to outnui lain. 

(8.) The DRUNKAUD \\'ill, sure, wrangle with nic that hi.s name comes 
so late in this catalogue, that deserved to be in the front or vanguard of 
madmen. Demens ebrietas is an attribute given him by a heathen. It is 
a voluntary madness, and makes a man so like a beast, that whcre;is a beast 
hath no reason, he hath the u.se of no reason ; and, the power or faculty of 
reason suspended, gives way to madness. Nay, he is in some respect worse 
than a beast ; for few beasts will drink more than they need, whereas mad 
drunkards drink when they have no need, till they have need again. 

' Quscris, quia sit homo ebriosus? atqui 
Null us est homo, Msevole, ebriosus;' — 

* Shew me a drunken man, thou bid'at. I can 
Not do 't ; for he that 's drunken ia no man.' 

To prove himself a madman, he dares quarrel with every man, fight with any 
man ; nay, with posts and walls, imagining them to be men. Bacchtis ad 
anna vocat* — Wine makes them bold, without fear or wit ; hazarding them- 
selves into dangers, which sober, they would tremble to think of. Nee enim 
hcecfaceret sohrius iinquam.f Are not these mad ? If you should see them, 
like so many superstitious idolaters, drinking healths on their bare knees to 
their fair mistress, — which, may be, is but a foul strumpet, — swearing against 
him that will not pledge it, or not pledge it off to a drop ; would you in 
your right wits take these for other than madmen 1 No ; let them go 
among the rest to bedlam, 

(9.) The IDLE man, you will say, is not mad ; for madmen can hardly 
be kept in, and he can hardly be got out. You need not bind him to a post 
of patience, the love of ease is strong fetters to him. Perhaps he knows his 
own madness, and keeps his chamber ; both that sleep may quiet his frenzy, 
and that the light may not distract him. He lives by the sweat of other 
men's brows, and will not disquiet the temples of his head. If this be his 
wit, it is madness ; for by this means his field is covered with nettles and 
thorns, his body overgro\vn with infirmities, Ms soul with vices ; his con- 
science shall want a good witness to itself, and his heart be destitute of that 
hope which in the time of calamity might have rejoiced it. 

Seneca could say. Mala viihi male esse, quam violliler, — I had rather be 
sick than idle." And, indeed, to the slothful, ease is a disease; but these 
men had rather be sick than work. These are mad ; for they would not be 
poor, nor want means to give allowance to their sluggishness ; yet by their 
refusal of pams, they call on themselves a voluntary and inevitable want. 
Oh that the want of grace thus procured were not more heavy to their souls 
than the other to their carcases ! Complain they of want ? Justly may 
they, should they, shall they ; for the want of diligence hath brought them 
to the want of sustenance. Thus their quiet is frenzy, their idleness mad- 
ness. 

(10.) The SWEARER is ra\-ingly mad : his own lips so pronounce liim ; as 
if he would be revenged on his Maker for giving him a tongue. It is so 
blistered with his hot breath that he spits fire at every sentence. He swears 
away all part of that blood which was shed for his redemption ; and esteems 
the wounds of his Saviour but only a complement of his speech, wherein he 
doth his best to give him new ones. He never mentions God but in his 
oaths, and vilipends his great name as if he heard him not. 

♦ Virg:. t ' I"! prselia trudit iuermcm.' — Ilor. 



284 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIII. 

What freiizy exceeds his? for he calls his bread, his drink, his clothes, the 
day, sun, stars, plants, and stones, to testify his truth ; indeed he calls them to 
testify against him. How shall the name of that God do him good which 
he so either disallows or dishallows ? God will not give him that blessing 
which he is so mad to vilify. And for a full exemplification of his madness, 
by oaths he thinks to get credit, and by oaths he loseth it. 

(11.) The LIAR is in the same predicament with the swearer ; let them go 
together for a couple of madmen. As he now is excluded out of all human 
faith, so he shall at last out of God's kingdom. Rev. xxi. 27. Lies have 
been often distinguished ; the latest and shortest reduction is into a merry 
lie and a very lie : either is a lie, though of different degree ; for the mali- 
cious lie exceeds the officious lie. The proverb gives the liar the inseparable 
society of another sin : Da milii mendacem, et ego ostendam tibi furem* — 
Shew me a liar, and I will shew thee a thief. He is mad, for, Wisd. i. 11 , 
' the mouth that speaketh lies slayeth his own soul. ' This is not all ; he 
gives God just cause to destroy him further. Ps. v. 6, ' Thou shalt destroy 
them that speak lies.' This is his madness. He kills at least three at once. 
The thief doth only send one to the devil ; the adulterer, two ; the slanderer 
hurteth three — himself, the person of whom, the person to whom he tells 
the lie. Lie not in earnest, lie not in jest; if thou dost accustom it, get 
thee into bedlam. 

(12.) The BUSYBODY all will confess a madman; for he fisks up and 
down, like a nettled horse, and will stand on no ground. He hath a charge 
of his own properly distinguished ; yet he must needs trouble his head with 
alien and unnecessary affairs. He admits all men's businesses into his 
brain but his own ; and comes not home for his own till he hath set all 
his neighbours' ploughs a-going. He hurries up and down, like Jehu 
the son of Nimshi in his chariot, or as a gallant in his new caroch, driving 
as if he were mad. 

He loves not to sleep in his own doors ; and hinders the commonwealth 
with frivolous questions. He is a universal solicitor for every man's suit, 
and would talk a lawyer himself mad. There is not a boat wherein he hath 
not an oar, nor a wheel wherein he will not challenge a spoke. He lives a 
perpetual affliction to himself and others, and dies without pity, save that 
they say. It is pity he died no sooner. He is his neighbours' malus genius, 
and a plague to melancholy. He is the common supervisor to all the wills 
made in his parish ; and when he may not be a counsellor, he will be an in- 
telligencer. If you let him not in to interrupt, he will stand without to 
eavesdrop. He is a very madman ; for he takes great pains without thanks, 
without recompense, of God or man, or his own conscience. He is luxurious 
of business that concerns him not. Lay hands on him, shackle him ; there 
are some less mad in bedlam. I will be rid of him with this distich — 

' He cleaves to those he meddles with like pitch; 
He 'b quicksilver, good only for men's itch.' 

(13.) The FLATTERER is a madman : Prov. xxvi. 18, 19, 'Asa madman 
who casteth firebrands, arrows, and death, so is the man that deceiveth his 
neighbour, and saith. Am I not in sport ? ' He displeaseth his conscience 
to please his concupiscence ; and to curry a temporary favour he incurreth 
evcrlasthig hatred. For his great one, once awaked from his lethargicd 
olumber, will say of him, as Achish did of David, counterfeiting himself dis- 
tracted, ] Sam. xxi. 15, 'Have I need of madmen, that you have brought 
* Erasm. 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 285 

this fellow to play the madman in my presence ? Shall tliis fellow come into 
my house V 

(14.) Ingratitude is madness ; for the unthankful man both makes him- 
self unworthy of received favours and prevents the hope of future. For 
every man can say, Quod fad's iiif/rato, peril, — What you do to a madman is 
lost. But if he be unthankful to God, he turneth his former blessings into 
curses, and shuts up heaven against his o\vn soul. Cessat cursus g ratUwum, 
iibi nonfuerit recursus, — The course of grace, where it hath no recourse, is 
soon stopped. All waters come secretly from the sea, but return openly 
thither : though fiivours have a secret and invisible derivation from God, 
they must return openly to him in praises, and in a thankful acknowledg- 
ment. Thou art mad, O elate and puflfed spirit, that usest, abusest, takest, 
swaUowest the blessings of heaven without gratitude. Non es dujnm pane, 
quo vesceris : for, non est dignm dandis, qui non agit gratias de datis, — Ho 
is unworthy of more benefits, that is unthankful for those he hath. The in- 
grateful man must needs be one of this number, and salute bedlam. 

(15.) The ANGRY man none wUl deny to be a madman, but they that are 
either mad or angry. The Scripture hath so condemned him, nature so 
censured him ; therefore he cannot shift this bedlam. ' Anger resteth in the 
bosom of fools ;' it is all one, of madmen. Ira furor, though but hrevis ; 
the longer it lasts, the madder it is. ' Be angry,' there is the reins ; but 
' sin not,' there is the bridle. ' Let not the sun go down on your wrath,' if 
you must needs be angry ; ' neither give place to the devil,' Eph. iv. 2G, 27. 
If he suffer the sun to set on his wrath, the sun of mercy may set on his 
sold ; and when he hath given the devil place, the devil at last will give him 
place, even 'his own place,' Acts i. 52, which his mad fury had voluntarily 
accepted. He is stark mad, for he spares not to womid himself ; and with 
a violent fire, which himself kindles, he burns up his own blood. 

(16.) The ENVIOUS man is more closely, but more dangerously, mad. 
'Envy is the consumption of the bones,' saith Solomon. He doth make 
much of that which will make nothing of him ; he whets a knife to cut his 
own throat. The glutton feeds beasts to feed on ; but the envious, like a 
witch, nourisheth a devil with his own blood. He keeps a disease fat which 
wiU ever keep him lean ; and is indulgent to a serpent that gnaws his en- 
trails. He punisheth and revengeth the wrongs on himself which his ad- 
versary doth him. Is not this a madman ? Others strike him, and like a 
strangely penitential monk, as if their blows were not sufficient, he strikes 
himself. That physicians may not beg him when he is dead, he makes him- 
self an anatomy living. Sure, he gives cause to think that all the old fables 
of walking ghosts were meant of him, and but for a little starved flesh, he 
demonstratively expounds them. If it were not for his soul, the devil could 
scarce tell what to do with his body. He would do much mischief, if he 
lives to it ; but there is great hope that he will kill himself beforehand. If 
you miss him in a stationer's shop jeering at books, or at a sermon cavillmg 
at doctrines, or amongst his neighbour's cattle grudging at their full udders, 
or in the shambles plotting massacres, yet thou shalt be sure to find him iu 
bedlam. 

(17.) The CONTENTIOUS man is as frantic as any. Hear him speak, his 
words are incendiary ; observe his feet, they run nimbly to broils, not know- 
ing the ' way of peace.' Look upon his eyes, they sparkle fire ; mark his 
hands, they are ever sowing debate. He will strike a neighbour in the dark, 
and lay it on his enemy ; all to make work. Search his pockets, and they 
are stuffed with libels, invectives, detractions. He hates all men, and the 



286 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIII. 

Lord Mm, being that * seventh abomination that his soul abhorreth, one that 
soweth discord among brethren,' Prov. vi. 19. There is a witness against 
him beyond exception : Prov. xxvi. 1 8, ' The debateful man is madder/ &c, 
Ter. 22, ' The words of a talebearer are as wounds, and they go down into 
the innermost parts of the belly,' &c. ; ver. 25, ' When he speaks fair, believe 
him not : for there are seven abominations in his heart.' He comes to a 
mart or market to breed quarrels, as if he were hired by some surgeon. He 
neither sees nor hears of a discord but he must make one ; but ever covertly, 
cowardly, out of the reach of weapons. Ver. 17, 'He that passeth by, and 
meddleth with strife belonging not to him, is like one that taketh a dog by 
the ears :' he will be soon weary of holding him ; and if he let him go, he 
is sure to be bitten. He is utterly mad ; for having incensed, encouraged 
party against party, — as one claps on unwilling mastiffs, — when perceiving his 
villany, they become friends, both shall fall upon him. So he makes work 
for lawyers, work for cutlers, work for surgeons, work for the devil, work for 
his own destruction. To bedlam with him. 

(18.) The IMPATIENT is a madman; for when the ties of softer afflic- 
tions will not hold him, he must be manacled with the chains of judg- 
ments. Patienter fevendum, quod non festinanter avferendum, — He makes 
his yoke more troublesome than it would be ; and by his struggling, forceth 
his gyves to make prints in his flesh. He is mad, for he longs for ease, and 
denies it hiuiself. It hath been said among men, Bear not wrong, and pro- 
voke greater ; but I say. Bear one affliction from God well, and prevent 
greater. He is mad that is angry with God, that cares not for his anger, 
that will plague his anger. How HI had it gone with God before this, if 
such a man could have wrought his teen* upon him ! Meantime, God is at 
peace, out of his reach, and he is plagued for his madness. Teach him 
patience in bedlam. 

(19.) The VAiN.GLORious is a mere madman, whether he boast of his 
good deeds or his ill. If of his virtues, they are generally more suspicable ; 
if of his vices, he is the more despicable ; if of his wealth, his hearers the less 
trust him, this noise prevents him from being a debtor ; t if of his valour, 
he is the more infallibly held a coward. In what strain soever his mounte- 
bank-ostentation insults, he loseth that he would find, by seeking it the 
wrong way. He is mad ; for when he would be accounted virtuous, hon- 
ourable, rich, valiant, in favour with greatness, and the world takes not ample 
notice of it, he sounds it with his own trumpet ; then at once they hear it, 
and deride it. By seeking fame he loseth it, and runs mad upon it. Put 
him into bedlam. 

(20.) Lastly, to omit our schismatics and separatists, — who are truly 
called Protestants out of their wits, liable to the imputation of frenzy, — the 
Papists are certainly madmen, dangerous madmen; mad in themselves, 
dangerous to us ; and would happily be confined to some local bedlam, 
lest their spiritual lunacy do us some hurt. 

Mad in themselves ; for who but madmen would ' forsake the fountaui of 
living water,' Jcr. ii. 1.3, the word of truth, and pin their faith and salvation 
on the Pope's sleeve ? — a prelate, a Pilate, that ' mingles their own blood 
with their sacrifices,' Luke xiii. 1. Think how that enchanting cup of forni- 
cation prevails over their besotted souls ; and you will say they are not less 
than mad. Come you into their temples, and behold then- pageants, and 

* Intention. — Ed. 

t Ik'cause through Lis boasting of Lis wealth, hia hearers distrust him, and will not 
loud him. — Eu. 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL RF.DLAM. 287 

histrionical gestures, bowings, mowings, windings, and turnings, together with 
their ser\ace in an unknown language, and, like a deaf man that sees men 
dancing when he hears no music, you would judge them mad. Behold the 
mass-i)riest, with his baked god, towzing, tossing, and dandling it to and 
fro, upward and dovraward, backward and forward, till at last, the jest turn- 
ing into earnest, he chops it into his mouth at one bite, whiles all stand gap- 
ing ^\'ith admiration; spectatum admisd, risH7)i teneatis amici i — would you 
not think them ridiculously mad ? But no wonder if they run mad that 
have drunk that poison. Many volumes have been spent in the discovery of 
their madness ; I do but touch it, lest I seem to write Iliads after our learned 
Homers. 

Surely madmen are dangerous without restraint. Papists are ready instru- 
ments of commotion, perversion, treason. These are a sickness — 

' immedicabile viibius 
Ense recidendum, no pars sincera trahatur.' 

Our land cannot be at ease so long as these lie on her stomach. They 
prick and wound her sides, not with praying against her, — for their impre- 
cations, we hope, are irrita, vota, — but with prejing upon her ; and when all 
stratagems fail, they are ready to fetch argiuuents from the shambles, and 
conclude in ferio* Whose religion is politic ; learning, bloody ; affections, 
malicious, ambitious, devilish. The Inquisition is their grammar, fire and 
fagot their rhetoric. Fleet and fetters their logic, the cannon's roar their music, 
and poisoning is their physic : whose priests have such almighty power, that 
they can make their ]\Iaker ; that whereas in their ' Sacrament of Order,' as 
they term it, God makes an impotent creature a priest, now in their ' Sacra- 
ment of the Altar,' the priest shall make Almighty God; yea, as he made 
them with a word, and put them in their mother's womb, so they can make 
Mm with a word, and put him in a box. They that thus blasi)heme their 
Creator, shall we trust them Tvith their fellow-creature ? 

It was an ingenuous answer of a Spanish nobleman, commanded by Charles 
V. to lodge the Duke of Bourbon at his house in Madrid : ' I will obey thee ; 
but set my house on fire so soon as the duke is out of it. My predecessors 
never built it to harbour traitors.' Did he think that a conspirator would 
poison his house, and shall we think that such are no infection to our land t 
Da\dd did counterfeit himself mad when he was not, for his own security ; 
these are mad, and dissemble it, tUl by one frantic act they can bring us all 
to ruin. If they were foreign, public, and professed enemies, we would not 
blame, nor fear them. Wlule kingdoms stand in hostility, hostile actions 
are just : but these are domestical, intestine, secret adversaries, bred and fed 
in the same country; therefore the more intolerable, as the more pernicious. 

Tut, they can satisfy their consciences by distinguishing of trea.sons. In- 
deed, all their religion is a religion of distinctions; such as that is, that an 
excommunicate prince may be dethroned, and being once uncrowned, may, 
on his penitent submission, be restored to the church : quoad animam, non 
quoad regnum. Thus they leave positive, textual, school-divinity, and fall 
to crown -divinity. Antichrist pleads, their religion is maintained by the 

* Those readers who have not studied formal logic will not understand the play upon 
words here. For their benefit, it may be explained that the word fcrio, a« ci>ntaiiiing 
the three vowels, e, i, and o, is emj)l(.yed by logicians to designate a partioilar form 
of argument or syllogism, in which the first premiss is a universal negative proi^sition, 
the second a particular affirmative, and the conclusion a particul.ir negative. But the 
meaning oi ferio is, ' I strike;' hence to reason infmo, is to substitute force for argu- 
ment. — Ed. 



288 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIII. 

fathers. Did ever any father allow of treason ? Shame they not to aver it ? 
If any abused, wrested, falsified writing of the fiithers did seem to consent 
to their errors, yet we know that audiendi patres, non ut judices, sed ut 
testes, — the fathers are to be heard as witnesses, not as judges. It is God's 
scriptiim est, not their traditum est, that must give decision of all doubts. 

They object, that those are birds of our own hatching that thus pollute 
their nest. Perhaps our country gave them breath and birth; but they 
drank this poison from the enchantmg cup of Rome. They are ever extra- 
vagant persons, that like rotten arms or legs have dropped from the body ; 
men sine sede, sine fide, sine re, sine spe. They are desperate men, and desti- 
tute of fidelity, that seek Rome, where their former learning and the better 
learning of their conscience is perverted, poisoned; that, forgetting to speak 
the language of Canaan, enigmatical, epicene, spurious, and abortive equivo- 
cation is the main accent of their speeches : an ambiguous, ambagious, 
cozening voice, which Cranmer, Latimer, Ridley never knew, never practised 
to save their bloods. A strange, stigmatic, misshapen, half-born, half-unborn 
child, I know not where bred, nor by what pope, cardinal, or Jesuit gotten ; 
but this I am sure, whosoever was the father, Rome keeps the bastard, and 
nurseth it with her best indulgence. So that now — 

'Jurat? crede minus : non jurat? credere noli : 
Jurat" non jurat? hostis ab hoste cave;' — 

' Their words are false, their oaths worse — neither just; 
Swear they, or swear they not, give them no trust.' 

How else could it be, but to the sophisticating of true substances must be an 
access of false qualities ? 

These are those critical, hypocritical cannibals, that make dainty at some 
seasons to eat the flesh of beasts, but forbear at no time to drink the blood 
of men. As the Pharisees, that stuck not to buy Christ's death — and their 
own withal — with money, yet would not admit that money into their trea- 
sury,- fearing to pollute the material temple, not the spiritual of their souls : 
the Romans make conscience in their fasting seasons to eat any flesh but 
bull's flesh, (I mean that which the Pope's bulls have made holy ; for that 
which St Paul saith doth sanctify it, 1 Tim. iv. 5, is neglected ;) but to cut 
throats, murder kings, blow up states, is not inter opera mala, no, nor adia- 
phora, but inter meritoria, — is not evil, nor indifferent, but a work of merit. 

They say (and we, forsooth, must grant that improved, but never proved, 
assertion,) that they derive their chair from Peter ; and what 1 Do they de- 
rive his doctrine too 1 St Peter exhorts to patience, 1 Pet. ii. 13, 14, 17, 
not to carving their own revenge. Neither are their murderous inventions 
and intentions of the lowest rank, but of kings, princes, senates, whole states ; 
and that without any respect, as of their own conscience, so of the persons' 
goodness they strike at ; aiming at the life of a king, a gracious king, under 
whom they enjoyed their lives, and that in abundant wealth and peace. So 
the conspiracy of Parry* is aggravated : — 

' Quod regina scehis, scelus est quod virgo petatur, 
Quod pia virgo scelus, quod tibi grata scelus. 
Cum virgo, regina, pia, et tibi grata petatur ; 

Proh scelus ! est, superat quod scelus onme, scelus.' 

* William Parry was executed on the 2d of March 1585, on his own confession of 
having been engaged in a i)lot to murder Queen Elizabeth; to which he said that he 
was iii.itigated by the reading of Cardinal Allen's book, wherein he maintained it to be 
not only lawful, but honourable, to kill excommunicated princes. — Ed. 



CCCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 289 

Which may be thus rendered : — 

* It's treason that a queen should ruinM be ; 

That a mai.l, ill ; 
That she was good, yet worse ; that good to the«, 

Jlore wick I'd stilL 
But when a queen, a maid, good, and thy friend. 

Thou wouldst despatch. 
The treason that thy black heart doth intend 

Dare hell to match ! ' 

Neither is it wonder that they exercise thus upon us who have no mercy 
to their cmi bowels. The .short lives of the pope.s, as it wa.s once of the 
emperors in that scat, maiiil"t.'st that by treason the chair is got, by treason 
lost. It would then be a good degree toward our health if these dangerous 
madmen were shut up in some strong bedlam. 

There are D^any other madmen, whom, though I particularly name not in 
this catalogue, j m shall find in bedlam. I desire not to say all, but enough. 
All are not taken into that taming-house in a day ; it is filled at times. If 
this muster can work any reformation on these frantic patients, another dis- 
covery will not be lost labour. 

You conceive the nature of the tenant ; you may a little better understand 
his vileness, if you consider — 

(1.) That he is a usurper, intruduig himself into God's freehold, which, both 
by creation and re-creation, he mny challenge for his own inheritance. If 
God should ask Madness, as he did that unbidden guest in the gos[)el, that 
came to the marriage without his wedding garment, ' Friend, how cainest 
thou hither?' Matt. xxii. 12, either, like that wretch, he would be mute, or 
else answer, Man let me into his heart. What a traitor is man, to let into 
his landlord's house his landlord's enemy ! 

(2.) That he doth not pay the rent of God's house. God, rich in mercies, 
lends, and, as it were, lets to farm divers possessions : as the graces of the 
Spirit, the virtues of the mind, gifts of the body, goods of the world ; and 
for all these requires no rent, but thanksgiving : that we praise him in heart, 
tongue, and conversation. But so long as madness is in any of these tene- 
ments, God cannot have this little rent of his farm. They are mad that think 
they may enjoy God's blessings without rent, or due payment of an accountant 
tribute. 

(3.) That he doth suffer God's tenement to decay ; he doth ruinate where, 
he dwells. For the outhouses of our bodies, madness doth strive either to 
burn them with lust, or to drown them with drunkenness, or to starve them 
Avith covetousness. For the S2)iritual and inward building, the foundathin of 
God's tenement in our soul is hiith, the walls hope, the roof charity. Now 
madness continually endeavours to rase our foundation, to dig through our 
walls, to uncover our roof ; that having neither faith in God nor love to men, 
our soul may be without hope, cxpo.scd to the tempests of the devil. Shall 
not madness account for these dilapidations ? 

(4.) That he doth employ the Ik.u.sc to ba.se uses. It is ill done in a tenant 
to a fair house to make the best rooms stables for his horses, .stalls for Ills 
oxen, or sties for his hogs. But madness makes the memory a stable for 
malice and revenge; the understanding, a dungeon for blindness and igno- 
rance; the will, a vault for hypocrisy and disobedience. So the body, which 
is the temple of God, is made a den of thieves. 

This is the tenant, madness : a sorry iidiabitant, and unworthy of so good 
a lodghig, as by the next point appears ; wliich is — 
VOL. I. T 



290 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SsRMOX X\^IIL 

2. The TENEMENT, the heart. The heart is a mansion for God, not 
for madness. God made it, and meant to reserve it to himself : he never 
placed such a tenant in it as the frenzy of sin. Christ is said to have a 
fourfold house — anagogical, allegorical, corporal, moral. 

(1.) The first is the church triumphant, that glorious and everlasting habi- 
tation of his deity. 

(2.) The second is the church militant, wherein he dwells sacramentally by 
his holy ministry. 

(3.) The third is corporal, that consecrated womb of the virgin, wherein 
he dwelt nine months. 

(4.) The last is man's heart, wherein he hath a mystical and spiritual 
abode. Christ doth dwell in our hearts by faith and by love. As he loves 
the gates of Sion more than all the dwellings of Jacob, so he dclighteth in 
the heart of man more than in all palaces and pavilions of princes. When 
an adversary tyrant hath taken the chief fort in a country, and driven out 
their just and merciful governor; fear, sorrow, and expectation of ruin pos- 
sesseth the inhabitants. It can go no better with the little nation of man 
when Jesus Clirist is expelled his habitation, the heart, and so savage a 
tyrant is admitted to tenure as madness : a strong man, that will fortify 
the castle, and scorns to lose it, except strength itself, the unresistible grace 
of Christ, lays battery to it. But this theme is scarce cold since I last 
handled it. I must be forced to leave the tenement a while in the unmerci- 
ful hands of madness, and inquire, if perhaps with any comfort, how long 
this tenure lasteth. 

3. The TENURE, while they live. Alas ! what gain we by searching further 
into this evidence I The more we look into it, the worse we like it. ' While 
tliey live.' The tenure of madness in the heart is for term of life. Too long a 
time for so bad a tenant. But you will say unto me, as the disciples to Christ, 
'Who then can be saved V Nunquid daturus est Deus regniim ojeloi-nm stultia ?* 
— Will God give the kingdom of heaven to madmen i Fear not ; all are not 
madmen that have madness a tenant in their hearts, but they that have it 
for their landlord. It is not my distinction, but St Paul's : Kom. vii. 1 7, 
sin may dwell, nay, sin will dwell, in your hearts, let it not reign there, 
saith the Apostle. It will be a household servant, it must not be a king. 
Aliud est habere insaniam, alizid haberi ab ituania, — It is one thing to have 
madness, another thing for madness to have thee. Since it will dwell in 
thee, wliiles thou dwellest in the flesh, make it a servant, a slave, a drudge, 
feet the Gibeonites to draw water, — let it make thine eyes lave thy body with 
repentant tears ; and to cleave wood, — let it rend thy heart Avith sorrow. 
Keep that subtle deceiver, with whom thou ignorantly struckest the hand of 
covenant, under bit and bridle : velle, revelle, turn, restrain, command, con- 
trol it at thy pleasure. Let it never be thy captain, thy landlord, thy king. 

Though sin, the devil's mad dog, hath bitten thee, and thou at first be- 
ginnest to run frantic, yet apply the plaster of the blood of Christ to thy 
sores. This shall draw out the venom, and grace shall get the mastery of 
madness. Be of good comfort, thou shalt not die frantic. Encourage thy- 
self with a holy violence against thy fleshly lusts ; intend, contend to enfeeble, 
and at length to extinguish the force of thy depraved nature. Kill madness, 
lest madness kill thee. Be sensible of the bane that lies in this spiritual 
frenzy, and do not laughing die. Madness is at first inimicus blandus, a 
fleering enemy; in the midst, duke venerium, sweet poison; at last, the 
■ epithets of Uandum and dulce \mn<x lost, it is scorpio pungens, a stinging 

* Aug. 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 291 

serpent. Well, yet let it sting thee here, that it may not sting thee here- 
after. Happy is he that learns to be sober by his owni madness, and con- 
cludes from / have sinned, I uill not sin ! Madness may be in his lieart, like 
a tenant ; it shall never be like a tyrant. Innocent Adam was naked, and 
knew it not ; sinful Adam was naked, and knew it. Then comes God, hear- 
ing his excuse of concealing himself deduced from his nakedness, Gen. iii. 11, 
* Who told thee that thou wast naked ? ' Sure his guilt told him. We have 
been mad, and are now come to ourselves, to know our own nuulness. If it 
be asked, Who told us that we were mad ? I answer. Even the same grace 
of God's Spirit that reclaimed us from madness. For the wicked, since they 
love madness, be it unto them ; and when they will never be recollected, let 
them be mad stilL But blessed be that God that helped us ; praised be his 
holy name that hath recalled us ! He hath in this life freed us from mad- 
ness as a t}Tant, and shall hereafter free us from it as a tenant. 

Thus have you the mystery of this spiritual bedlam detected, and a crew 
of madmen let out to your view, whose house is the world, whose bonds are 
iniquities, whose delight is darkness, whose master is the devU : for those 
whom he keeps in this metaphorical bedlam, (without reclaiming by the 
}K)wer of the gospel,) he hath ready provided another material, local, infernal 
bedlam, a dungeon, not shallower than hell ; wherein there is no light of sun 
or stars, no food but speckled serpents, no liberty to straggle, but the 
patients are bound with everlasting chains, and himself, with his same-suf- 
fering spirits, do eternally whip them with rods of burning steel and iron. 
One hour in this bedlam will tame the most savage madmen that were ever 
nursed among wolves, or sucked the breasts of inhumanity. 

I hear them talk of some irrefragable * roarers ;' creatures, not men, whom 
no limits of reason can tether up : let them take heed, lest they become at 
that day roarers indeed, and roar for the very anguish of their hearts ; howl- 
ing like dragons, that have lived like tigers. Think of this bedlam, ye mad- 
men. Eccles. xi. 9, ' Eejoice, O young man, in thy youth,' <fcc. ' Rejoice ;' nay, 
it were somewhat weU, if no more than joy, be mad : ' in thy youth,' tempore 
insaniendi, a time of iUimited desires. ' Let thy heart cheer thee,' and do 
thou cheer thy heart, — that thee with lusts, thou that with wine and jun- 
kets, — 'and walk,' franticly, inordinately, 'in thy ways,' by-ways and wry- ways, 
for the way of truth thou wilt not know ; ' and in the sight of thine eyes,' 
such tempting and lust-provoking objects as those two sentinels of the body 
can light upon ; or if thou canst not yet be madder, extend thy desires to 
find out experimental madness : ' but know thou, that for all these things 
God will bring thee into judgment,' — remember, that there is an infernal 
bedlam, whereunto they that live and die spiritually madmen must be eter- 
nally confined. 

He that should now tell the covetous, the ambitious, the voluptuous, <fec., 
they are madmen, should appear to them mad in sa}'ing so. They rather 
think us mad ; as Festus, though mad himself, without learning, could tell Paul 
that ' much learning had made him mad,' Acts xxvi. 24. But we may answer 
for ourselves, as Augustine of David's madness, 1 Sam. xxi. 13: Insanire 
videhatur, sed regi Achish insanire videbatur, — David seemed mad but to 
King Achish. We are judged madmen of none but madmen. Because ' we 
run not with them to the .same excess of riot,' 1 Pet. iv. 4 ; because wc cut 
short our atlections of their vain delights, and drown not ourselves in the 
whirlpool of their luxuries, but gird repentance to our loins with resolution ; 
they imagine us frantic. They think us madmen, we know them .so. And 
they sliaii at last despairingly confess in this lower bedlam : ' We fools ac- 



292 MYSTICAL BEDLAM. [SeRMON XVIII. 

counted the godly man's life madness, and his end to be without honour : 
now is he numbered among the children of God, and his lot is among the 
saints,' Wisd. v. 4, 5. Be wise then in time, ye sous of men ; trust not spiri- 
tual madness, lest it bring you to eternal bedlam, from whose jaws, when 
you are once entered, be you never so tame, you cannot be delivered. 

III. The Period. — We have ended man's comma and his colon, but not 
his sentence ; the period contiiuies and concludes it. We found his heart 
fuU of evil ; we left it full of madness. Let us observe at the shutting up 
what wUl become of it : ' After that, they go to the dead.' Here is the end 
of man's progress ; now he betakes himself to his standing-house, his grave. 
The period is delivered — 

1. Consequently, After that; 2. Discessively, they go ; 3. Descensively, 
doivn to the dead. 

The sum is, ' Death is the wages of sin,' Eom. vi. 23. 1. After that 
they have nourished e\\\ and madness in their hearts, this is the successive, 
not successful, event and consequence : 2. They go, they shall travel a new 
journey, take an unwilling walk ; not to their meadows, gardens, taverns, 
banqueting-houses : but, 3, To the dead ; a dismal place, the habitation of 
darkness and discontent, where fineness shall be turned to filthiness, lustre 
to obscurity, beauty and strength to putrefaction and rottenness. 

If a man looks into what life itself is, he cannot but find, both by experi- 
ence of the past and proof of the present age, that he must die. As soon 
us we are born, we begin to draw to our end. Life itseK is nothing but a 
journey to death. There is no day but hath his night, no sentence but 
hath his period, no life on earth but hath the death. Examine the scope 
of thy desires, and thou shalt perceive how they hasten to the grave, as if 
death were the goal, prize, or principal end wliich the vanity of human en- 
deavours runs at. Be a man in honour, in wealth, in government, he stUl, 
ambitiously blind, languisheth for the time to come ; the one in hope to en- 
large his greatness, the other his riches, the last his dominions. Thus they 
covet the running on of time and age, and rest not till they have concluded 
their sentence, and attamed their period ; gone to the dead. 

All men, yea, all inferior things, must be freed by an end : and as the 
philosopher answered to the news of his son's death, Scio me genuisse mor- 
talem ; so God, the Father of all, may say of every man living, Scio me 
creasse mortalem, — I have made a man that hath made himself mortal. Man 
J3 a little world, the world a great man ; if the great man nuist die, how 
shall the little one scape ? He is made of more brittle and fragile matter 
than the sun and stars ; of a less substance than the earth, water, A:c. Let 
him make what show he can with his glorious adornations ; let rich ap- 
parel disguise him living ; cere-cloths, spices, balms enwrap him, lead and 
stone innnure him, dead ; his original mother will at last own him again 
for her natural child, and triumph over him with this insultation, He is in 
my bowels : Ps. cxlvi. 4, ' He returueth to his earth.' His body rcturneth 
not inmiediately to heaven, but to earth ; nor to earth as a stranger to him, 
or an unknown place, but to his earth, as one of his most familiar friends, 
and of oldest acquaintance. To conclude : — 

If we be sinful, we must die ; if we be fuU of evil, and cherish madness 
in our hearts, we must to the dead. We have sins enough to bring us all 
to the grave ; God grant they be not so violent, and full of ominous precipi- 
tation, tliat they portend uur more sudden ruin ! Yea, they do portend it ; 
but Oil niilluDt sit ill amine /londiis f 

But I have been so prolix in the former parts of the sentence, that 1 must 



ECCLES. IX. 3.] MYSTICAL BEDLAM. 293 

not dwell upon the period. He needs not be tedious that reads a lecture 
of mortality. How many in the world, since this sermon began, have made 
an experimental proof of this truth ! This sentence is but the moral of those 
spectacles, and those spectacles the examples of this sentence. They are 
come to their period before my speech ; my speech, myself, and all that hear 
me,^all that breathe this air, must follow them. It hath been said, We live 
to die ; let me a little invert it : Let us Uve to live ; live the life of grace, 
that we may Uve the life of glory. Then, though we must go to the dead, 
we shall rise from the dead, and live with our God, out of the reach of death 
for ever. Azuea 



THE GALLANT'S BURDEN. 



The burden of Dumah. He calls unto me out of Seir, Watchman, what was 
in the night ? Watchman, vjhat was in the night ? The watchman said. 
The m,orning cometh, and also the night : if ye ivill ask, inquire ; re- 
turn, and come. — Isaiah XXI. 11, 12. 

Quo brevior, eo obscurior, — The shorter this prophecy is, the more mystical. 
In holy writ, these two things ever concur, sententia brevis, res ampla, — a 
finite sentence, an infinite sense. As in a little map' we see a world of coun- 
tries ; and what the foot cannot measure in many days, the eye peruseth in 
a moment : this is the little map of Idumea or Edom, wherein we may sur- 
vey the state of that whole region ; not much unlike the situation of it, 
standing in this chapter betwixt Chaldea and Arabia. The burdens against 
them both are heavy, and the plagues aggravated with more circumstances. 
'The burden of Dumah,' though short, shall weigh with them grain for 
grain. 

As you travel with me into this country, by the guidance of that enlighten- 
ing Spirit, tie your considerations to two special things : — I. The map ; II. The 
moral. In the map you shall find — 1. An inscription ; 2. A description. 
In the inscription : (1.) The name of the country; (2.) The nature of the 
prophecy. The description rests itself on three objects : (1.) A mountain ; (2.) 
A watchman ; (3.) An Edomite : where is shadowed, (1.) under the mountain, 
security ; (2.) under the watchman, vigilance ; (3.) under the Edomite, scorn. 
Now, if you ask, as did the prophet Ezekiel, what these things meant, the 
moral directs you, 1. by a question ; 2. by an answer. The question would 
know what was in the night. The answer declares it, (1.) by a resolution ; (2.) 
by an advice. The resolution, Venit mane et vespere, — 'The mornmg comes, 
and also the night ;' the advice, 'If ye will ask, inquire : return, and come.' 

I. — 1. In the inscription we propounded to be considered, (1.) The name 
of the country; (2.) The nature of the prophecy. 

(1.) For the country, there is some question what this Dumah should be. 
Some affirm it to be the country of the Ishmaclites, and to receive the name 
from Dumah, that son of Ishmael mentioned Gen. xxv, 14 ; but that Dumah, 
with other the sons of Ishmael, inhabited Arabia, which is burdened in the 
prophecy following, distinctly severed from this. This Dumali then was the 
country of the Idumeans or Edomites, the place where l*]sau and liis genera- 



IsA. XXI. 11, ll\] THE gallant's BURDEN. 20.3 

tiou dwelt. Tliis is clear by the mount Seir, which was a hill of tlio 
Edomites, Ez?k. xxxv. la. 

This Idiu..ea is here called Dumah per aphaeresin. Thus God insinuates 
his contempt of that rebellious and accursed nation, by cutting short the 
name, as unworthy to stand in his book, graced with the full length. The 
estimation which the wicked bear with God is here expressed : he thinks 
the mention of them a blur to his sacred leaves. Now, shall their persons 
sit in his kingdom with honour, whose names may not stand in liis book 
without disgrace ? Sometimes they are concealed, as Dives, Luke xvi. 1 'J. 
That real parable gives no other title to the condenmcd churl. Christ allows 
the t}Tant Herod no other name than a fox : Luke xiii. 32, ' Go tell that 
fox,' ic. God calls those princes the ' bulls of Bashan on the mountain of 
Samaria,' Amos iv. 1. They would be blots to his holy book, if they were 
expressly named. Sometimes they are named, but with abl)reviations : 
Dumah for Idumea. Thus Aram is called Kam, Ruth iv. 1.5. Ephes- 
danmiim, a coast of the Philistines, never spoken of without contempt, is 
twice thus curtailed. In 1 Chron. xi. 13,. it is called Pasdammim; and, 
1 Sam. xvii. 1, Danmiim. 

Let not this observation slip from us without our use. If God take letters 
from the name, he intends to take blessings from the person. When Jeconiah's 
curse is written in the cuttiiig off his posterity from the throne of David, 
and himself from the prosperity of the earth, he is called Coniah, Jer. xxii. 
18 ; the reason is added, ' He is a despised person,' let him have a shortened 
name : ' a broken idol, and an unpleasant vessel,' «fec. 

Thus God crosseth the world's fashion by putting them in his chronicle 
which are not here thought of, and leaving those out which the world boasts 
of as her gloiy. To a soul that hath more affection in her than religion, it 
seems a great matter of pity that Cato, Alexander, and some of those mighty 
Roman Caesars, honoured with the graces of nature, the bounties of fortune, 
and the greatest glory the forced world could yield them, should yet want a 
name in God's book, a place in his kingdom. Greatness is the fairest object 
to the eye of the world ; goodness to the eye of heaven. There is a glorious 
splendour in pompous honour, to draw the eyes of admiration after it ; it 
little affects the sight of God, if ^■irtue gives it not a lustre. He that is 
goodness and gi-eatness itself (when others have it in the concrete, good and 
great, he hath and deserves it in the abstract) is pleased to prefer his title of 
Optimus before that of Maximus, and first to be called Good, and then Great, 
Exod XV. 11. His affections should be ours; he is the absolute precedent 
of our imitation. 

There are infinite ways that conduct to seeming honour, excluding virtue ; 
the end of them all is shame, since of a natural man it is true that quanta 
ornatior, tanto nequior, — the more adorned, the more wicked. Our bonnets 
veil, our knees bow to many whom the sight of heaven and virtue scorns. 
This imparity of men living is made even l)y death, who sweeps all, Ix'ggar 
and prince, with his impartial besom, into one bag : and when judgment 
comes, they are made odd and unequal again ; for then the least in the world's 
estimation shall sit down with the blessed kings and patri.U(-hs in lieaven, 
when kings and patriots without grace shall be excluded. If you desire your 
names to be registered with the pen of eternity, write thorn yourselves with 
the pen of charity. The book of grace is the counterpart to tlic book of 
election : they are written in heaven first, and there God reads them. We 
cannot see into this book through the thick clouds of the air and sun ; let us 
write them in the leaves of obedience, and there read them, 2 Tim. ii. 19 : 



296 THE gallant's burden. [Sermon XIX. 

they stand sure with God before, not sure to us till now. Write them in 
the entrails of the poor, in tlie ruins of the church, by you bettered, repaired, 
maintained, 2 Pet. i. 10, {non norunt hcec monumenta mori,) and you shall 
one day hear the Judge himself read them in the audience of all the world, 
to your joy, crown, eternity of bliss. Matt. xxv. 34. 

Christ diverted his apostles' triumph to another honour, Luke x. 17. They 
were little less than proud that the devils were subdued unto them through his 
name whom they served. True, saith Christ, ' I saw Satan fiiU from heaven 
like lightning ; nevertheless rejoice not that the spirits obey you, but rejoice 
that your names are written in heaven,' ver. 20. Rejoice not of your en- 
nobled bloods, admired with living praises, and rescued from the jaws of 
oblivion by sumptuous sepulchres ; there is small matter of joy that the 
name lives in bright honour on earth, when the soul lies in the rusting mise- 
ries of hell ; but rejoice on your assurance of memorial with God : Prov. x. 7, 
' The memory of the just shall be blessed ; but the name of the wicked shall 
rot.' A great name commonly ariseth either from blood, popular applause, 
or golden trappings. The last useth a man like a counter, that stands now 
for a million, instantly for a penny. The first finds honour, perhaps deserves 
it not, leaves it to succession. The middlemost is unconstant, as the causes 
are : the vulgar opinions, whose distracted voices seldom hit on the same 
tune, or never keep it long. The monarchs of the world have large and 
tedious titles, according to their several dominions : good luck have they 
with that honour which the hand of God reacheth forth unto them : there is 
a title that betters all theirs ; those are folded up in time that perisheth ; 
this brings honour without end or limits : to be a Christian. Such have 
their names producted in God's book, to shew that they stand written with 
golden letters in the Lamb's book of heaven : Abram shall be called Abra- 
liam ; Jacob, Israel. The Hebrews well observed, that God, to those he 
loved, added a letter of his own name, that ietragravimaton, Jehovah : as 
the letter He to Abraham's and Sarah's name ; the letter Jod to Jehoshua's, 
who was before called Hoshea. 

It was happy for Mordecai that his name stood in the Persian chronicles, 
that Ahasureus might read him : his service shall be found out with rewards. 
Array him with the king's robe, set him on the king's chariot, and proclaim 
his name through the popular streets : ' This is the man whom the king will 
honour,' Esther vi. 9. It is more blessed to stand in the chronicles of heaven, 
registered by the pen of that eternal Spirit. We shall one day sit with the 
king in his throne, Rev. iii. 21, — vincenti dabitur sedere, kc, — and put on 
his robe of glory ; ' be fashioned like his glorious body,' Phil. iii. 21. ' Such 
honour have all his saints,' Ps. cxlix. 9. It is the decree and promise of 
him whose word is more stable than the foundations of the earth, ' Those that 
honour me I will honour.' Revolve then his sacred name in your sanctified 
mouths ; sing Hosannahs to it here, that you may sing Hallelujahs hereafter ; 
and liiiving drunk hearty draughts of his waters of mercy, bless with David 
his great and glorious name. The honour of your own names is attained, 
nay, consists in this ; maintain the glory of it with your strengths, sound it 
with your praises, and (if need be) seal it with your bloods ; and God shall 
write your names, not shortened like Dumah's, but at full length, in a book 
never to be blotted out. 

(2.) The nature of the prophecy follows, being that other branch of the 
inscription. A burden; a matter not easily portable, but will weigh heavy 
on whomsoever imposed. The burden is in two resi)ects : [1.] Of the pro- 
phets that bear it , [2.j Uf the people that were to sutfer it. 



IsA. XXI. 11, 12.] THE GALLAM'.S BURDEN. 297 

[1.] The word of the Lord is to the prophets a heavy burden till they are 
delivered of it : there is no rest in the bones to the surcharged conscience, no 
more than to the pregnant woman till she be eased. I confess that security, 
vanity, abundance of wealth, setting their shoulders to this burden, njake 
many a prophet forego all sense of the weight. Jonah, laden with his com- 
mission for Xincvch, lay as securely in the sides of the ship as if the God of 
Israel had laid no burden on him ; but himself was a burden to the ship, 
and the fury of the waves, winds, and his anger that moves all, was not ajv 
peased till the ship was disburdened of Jonah, that had disburdened himself 
of the message of God. Let me speak it with grief and fear. We are the 
sons of those prophets, — I mean their successors in God's ministerial work, — 
and the word of the eternal God is no lighter a burden to us than it was to 
them ; nay, let me add, (that which is not to be thought of without trem- 
bling,) there is the burden of a curse threatened to them that neglect this 
burden : ' Cursed is he that doth God's business negligently.' Lest I should 
seem bitter in applying this too generally, let me freely speak what Paul 
applies to his own person, if he slighted this ponderous charge : ' A necessity' 
(which is no less than a burden) ' is laid upon me, and woe unto me if I 
preach not the gospel !' 1 Cor. ix. 16. 

I know that our harvest abounds with plentiful and j)ainful labourers, 
that bear the heat and burden of the day, and according to their several 
offices, (whether in overseeing, planting, or watering,) A\-ith the sweat of their 
brows they labour in God's vineyard ; but to complain of the evil that i.s, is 
no wrong to the good that is : ' Many excellent things are spoken of thee, 
O thou city of God!' Ps. Ixxxvii. 3. O thou church of England! oh, 
might it be no wrong to thy perfections, no stain to thy beauty, to condole 
some wants in thy sons ! It is sin to be silent, where an impartial speech 
may take good effect. The sweet dews of holy admonitions may from this 
place, (as the liver,) spread into all the veins of the land. 

The ministry is a matter of both honour and burden. Are there none 
that catch at honour, will not meddle with the burden ; whose pined flocks 
must either content themselves with a bare pasture, or else stray forth into 
neighbouring commons, whiles they forget to break their Master's bread ; 
yea, perhaps, to set the whole loaf before his guests ? Are there none that 
load their minds with the burden of cares too heavy for a Christian soul to 
bear ; the load of ambition, the burden of covetousness, so pressing them 
down, as if they were exonerated of the burden of the gospel ? But if any 
soul be sensible of this burden, (as one into whose bowels God hath put the 
compassion of distressed souls,) ' for Zion's sake he will not hold his peace,' 
Isa. Ixii. 1. Yea, let me speak it of him thnt Job of himself: ' He is full of 
matter, and the spirit within him compelleth liim : the word is in him, like 
new wine in bottles, which must be vented or will burst forth,' Job xxxii. 
18. And if we slip our shoulders from under this burden, God can make 
the whole world too hot for us, and at last impose a burden of another na- 
ture on our then weaker and more unable souls ; the mountains and rocks, 
if weighed in the balance, will be found lighter : the burden of all their sins 
whose souls have bled to death by our negligence. AVe may, through our 
impatience and weakness, with Jeremiah curse the day of our nativity, chap. 
XX. 14, and cry, Woe worth the time that ever we were horn to so trouble- 
some an office ! But a greater woe and curse attends us if we attend it not. 
Passing corruptions in ourselves, active reproaches, injuries, oppositions of 
others, impulsive temptations of the devil, may make us weary of our call- 
ings: but his word is in our hearts as fire shut up in our bones, and wc 



298 TMK gallant's bukdex. [Sekmo^t XIX. . 

shall be weary of forbearing. We caiiuot smotlier tlie flames of it, but with 
terms of dehance to the stoutest that bear a forehead, we must declare it. 
God gives us the prevision of this burden beforehand, that we may stoop the 
shoulders of patience and zeal to it. Thus to Ezekiel, chap. ii. 3, ' Son of 
man, I send thee to Israel.' "VYhat are they 1 I will not dissemble with thee : 
* They are a rebellious house.' Contumelies against thyself, blasphemies 
against thy l^Iaker, the bitings, smitings, woundings of tongues, hands, and 
swords, that is the burden thou must bear ; if any lighter and better things 
come, let them be praeter spem, beyond thy expectation. Thus is the word 
a burden to the person that bears it. 

[2.1 It is no less to them that must suflter it: the judgments of Grod are 
heavy on whomsoever they light ; a millstone bound to the sinner, and 
thrown with him into the sea, will not sooner sink him to the bottom than 
those bound to the soul will sink it to the depth of depths ; therefore Christ 
says. Matt, rvdii. 6, ' Better a millstone,' because lighter. The wrath of the 
Lamb, at the consummation of the world, is acknowledged more heavy than 
rocks and mountains, Eev. vi. 16; and happy were it for those reprobates, 
if such intolerable pressures could dissolve them into emptiness ! These on 
the body are more sensible, on the soul more miserable. In the infancy of 
the world, God's blows were most outward ; in this ripe, or rather rotten, 
age of it, they are most inward and spiritual. We have no bears to devour 
the mockers, no fiery serpents to strike the murmurers. God's punishments 
reach most to the conscience :, triplex circa pra'cordia ferrum, a sensual 
and senseless heart, without apprehension of God's incensed anger, cor nullis 
violabile telis, not made of penetrable stuff. If God's finger touch the body, 
we groan under the weight ; let his whole hand Lie on the soul, we feel no- 
thing. If this be not our burden and misery, what is 1 

Like curious visitors, will ye not believe this age to labour of this sick- 
ness, unless you behold some symptoms ? Let your eyes take notice, and 
that not without grief of soul, of the deadness of heart among us. We ply 
the world hard, dally with religion. We serve God in jest, ourselves with 
all respect and earnest. Our devotions are like winter, frosty, misty, and 
windy, of many natures, none other than cold. Nothing arms, charms, 
and confirms our senses with attention, spirits with intention, active powers 
with contention, but vanity. Are not the benches in taverns and theatres 
often well replenished when these seats are thin and almost empty ? Are 
not the alleys in this temple often fuller of walkers than the choir of peti- 
tioners 1 Conference Avith the profane, ostentation of clothes, perhaps plots 
of mischief, as frequent as suits to God, making it little less than a den of 
thieves '? If men stumble into the church, as company, custom, recreation, 
or, perchance, sleep invites many, they feed their eyes with vanities ; if any 
drops be admitted into their ears, they are entertained under the nature of 
conceits. Judgments, they think, be none of thck lessons; they will not 
suffer their consciences to apply them. Mercies they challenge and own, 
though they have no right to them. If this estate be not a misery, judg- 
ment, burden, there is none. The fire of the pestilence is well quenched, the 
rumours and storms of war are laid, the younger brother of death, famine, 
doth not tyrannise over us. But here it is : our sms and God's wrath (for 
them) meet, and the heart is hardened ; this is the sorest judgment. Let 
me s[)eak a paradox, but a truth : it is the plague of many that they are not, 
plagued; even this is their [)unishmcnt, the want of punishment; and the 
hand of God is then he;iviest when it is lightest — heaviest on the conscience. 
when lightest on the carcase. It is true of them what the philosopher said of 



ISA. XXI. 11, 12.] THE C;ALLAXT'.S liUIlDEN. li'J'J 

himself, Perieram niisi pfriissem, — They are undone that they arc not unJuiio. 
God suffers their bodies to possess and be possessed of reat : they sing to 
viols, dance their measures ; their Jieads ache not, much less their consciences ; 
but, as to Israel, fat with quails, God withal sends leanness into their soul.s ; 
the present indulgence gives sufficient argument of future Wi.es ; they surfeit 
on pleasures till death puts them out of breath. That worthy father* saw 
this their self-commended estate, and prayed against it: iJomine, hic are, hie 
seca, ut in etenium parens, — Lord, here plague, cut, massacre, burn me, so that 
for ever thou wilt spare and save me. This is onus gravissimum, the most 
grievous burden. Security is the very suburbs of hell : miserim nihil est 
misero, se non miserante, — there is nothing more wretched than a wretched 
man that recks not his own misery • an insensible heart is the devil's anvil, 
he fashioneth all sins on it, and the blows are not felt. 

You wonder at the frequency of burdens, and that the turtles of this land 
groan out of this place the sad tunes of woe and misery. Alas ! how should 
we sing the songs of Sion to a strange people ? The pulpit, I confess, should 
be the mercy-seat ; but your sins have made it a tribunal or bench of judg- 
ment. Nothing but the thunders of Sinai, and scarce tho.se, can waken us 
from oiu: dead sleep. This is ivia securitas, deep security, fitly applied to 
us, whose is sine cura cctas, an age without care ; or rather, if you will, *e 
cicrans cetas, that love none but ourselves, and that not enough to seek our 
own peace. Let me speak it in the tune of Juvenal — 

' ' Non habefc ulterius, quod nostris moribus addat 

Posfceritas ; ' — 

We flow with those sins to which no foUomng posterity shaU be ever able 
to add. So spreading an infection of sin is among us, that, as in a great 
plague, we wonder not so much at them which die as at them which scape ; 
so there is nothing a wonder, a mirror, a miracle in nature but he that lives 
unspotted of this world- If you think I .speak too bitterly, I would to God 
it w^re not worse than I speak. I would your reformation would convince 
us of shame, and give us cause to recant this in the pulpit. This turns the 
message of Edom upon us ; the burden of Dumah, the burden of England. 
We cast from our shoulders the burden of the law, God lays on us the burden 
of judgment ; we load God with our sins, and press him as a cart with 
sheaves, Amos ii. 13 ; we pack up a bundle of lies, blasphemies, adulteries, 
perjuries, extortions, frauds, and then hasten to the cross of Christ to unload- 
them, as if, pressing our souls to hell with wilful sins, yet Christ on the least 
warning must ease us. But the promise, Matt. xi. 28, is not to men laden 
with sin, but with sorrow for sins. It is such a load as must make us weary, 
or we have no promise to be eased. 

But, alas ! sin (which is burden enough to sink the world) is made light by 
custom : as if, resting in man's heart, it did quiescere in propriam sedi?n, 
settle itself in its o\ni natural place. It is a philosopliical axiom, Kiillnm 
elementum sxo loco ponderat, — No element Ls heavy in its proper place. Though 
sin be as weighty as a talent of lead, saith the prophet, ZecL v. 7, yet it is 
at the centre when got into the corrupted heart, and weighs liglit. And 
except the wrath of God fall upon the naked conscience, sin lies at the door, 
and Cain never cries, ' It is greater than I am able to bear.' Juda,s liad 
burden enough of treason, hypocrisy, malice, covctousnes.s, to sink him dt>wn ; 
it was no burden till the finger of God's wrath touched the tender heart- 
strings, and then it pressed him down to his own place, Acts i 25. How 
• August. 



300 THE gallant's burden. [Sermon XIX. 

many have incurvate and oppressed souls, bowed down with the ' spirit of 
infirnnty,' (nay, of rank iniquity,) more than eighteen years, that are not yet 
sensible of their own crookedness, nor the cause thereof? For it cannot be 
but the devoured patrimonies of many orphans, the ruins and depopulations 
of towns, the devastation of holy things, should be burdens too heavy for a 
poor crazy soul to stand under. Piles of usury heavier than Etna, burdens 
of bribes outbalancing the axle-tree, are more than the giants, Theomachoi, 
monsters of men and prorligies of nature, were able to bear. We could not 
see a corrupted lawyer, citizen, cormorant, go so nimbly and so bolt u[)right 
under such a mass of sin, if they had not some help. Here it is , the 
'strong man Satan' (so it pleaseth Christ to term him) puts under his 
shoulder, and makes the vessel go tight and easy, with an equal balance, 
which could not else swim upon the waters without sinking. Pride could 
not else carry a whole township on his back, which his father, covetousness, 
had but newly devastate, clambering up to honour, as Jonathan to the gar- 
rison of the Philistines, by the ruggedness of these two rocks, Bozez and 
Seneh, 1 Sam. xiv. 4, so these by the desolation of our two main rocks, the 
church and commonwealth. The unmerciful monopolies of courtiers, the 
unreasonable prices of merchants, the hoards (if not transportation) of grain 
with cormorants, the advantages made of the poor's necessities, unconscion- 
able fines, and rents, wringing the last penny from their purses and drop of 
blood from their hearts, — Oh durum et importabile 2^o}idus ! — an intolerable 
weight. These wretches were never able to bear it without the aid of the 
devil, who, Avhiles they draw with him in the same yoke, is content to bear 
all the burden. 

At last, when presumption has left the stage, and desperation begins to 
knit up all with a direful catastrophe, the pulses beating slowly, the head 
aching vehemently, body and soul refusing all proffered comfort, then the 
devil casts the whole load on them, that at once they may despair and die ; 
then that which was lighter than cork and feathers becomes heavier than 
lead" and earth. God hath often strove with them by his word; they would 
never yield a Vinces, ' Thou shalt overcome, O Lord.' Now, perhaps with 
Julian too late, they pant out a Vicisti, ' Thou hast overcome.' Our crying 
in the day could not wake them ; that cry at midnight shall fetch them up, 
with the burden of envy, covetousness, drunkenness, &c. And as it was 
doomed to Babylon, ' Look how much her glory and pleasure hath been, 
give her so much torment and sorrow,' Rev. xviii. 7. Nay, then the devil 
gets up too, like a merciless jailor, with the addition of his own weight, to 
aggravate their woes. Strive then every one to abate the burden of judg- 
ment, by lessening the burden of sin. Every repentant tear that falls, wash- 
eth a talent from this burden ; every remorseful sigh and faithful prayer 
diminisheth the load ; that which remains may press, shall not oppress, 2 
Cor. iv. 9. Christ will put under his shoulder : ' Come, all ye laden,' exone- 
rate anhnas, unload your souls : he bore them on his cross, and our believ- 
ing souls shall never feel the weight of them. The cross only is left ; heavy 
to blood and flesh, but to a heart made spiritual, ' thy yoke, O Lord, is easy, 
and thy burden light,' Matt. xi. 30 : our own heavy, but thine light. 

2. We have perused the map to the end of the inscription : the description 
stands next to our speech ; where we have an Edomite standing on ]Mount 
Seir, and calling to the watchman, with the voice of derision, 'what he saw 
in tlie night,' (fee. A proud lulnmite, securing himself in the strength of his 
own arms, deriding the proplu^t of God, which came against liim with the 
burden of war. This is tlie sense I fasten on. I have read other exposi- 



Is A. XXI. 11, 12.] THE gallant's BURDEN. 301 

tions, as if it was a question of fear : I approve and dwell on the former. 
From the persuasion, then, of immunity, impunity, and safe standing out of 
the reach of earth, of hell, of heaven, proceeds this ciuestiun. Kduni hath 
shaken off the yoke of Israel, and begins to crown his days witli the rose- 
buds of peace, and not to fear the sword of Egypt, nor Ashur, nor (!od him- 
self hi heaven. Their conceit was, though feignedly, as strong of this Mount 
Seir as the promise of God was really true to Mount .Sion — never t<j be moved, 
though the battlements of heaven shot thunder, and the pillars of the earth 
quaked. 

(1.) There is question about the name of this Seir; some affirm it de- 
rived from Esau, as behig the place where he and his generation dwelt, (ion. 
xxxvi. 9. Indeed, the nature of Esau and the name of Seir agree fitly, for 
both signify bristled or hainj ; but it had the name of Seir before Esiiu came 
thither. Some Hebrews think the mountain w;is called Seir from the appa- 
rition of devils, who shewed themselves in the shapes oi hairy men ; such as 
the Fauns were imagined to be. But most like to take denomination from 
Seir the Horite, Gen. xxxvi. 20, who inhabited there long before Esau : 
' And the Horites in their Mount Seir, unto the plain of Paran,' Gen. xiv. (J ; 
it being the country of the Horims or Horites. Esau was drawn hither for 
many reasons : as, because that corner of Canaan about Hebron, where lie 
and his brother Jacob dwelt, was too scant for their flocks ; because Mount 
Seir fitted Esau's mind, being a place of excellent huntuig ; his wives woie 
of that country; God's providence so disposed of Esau's removal that 
Jacob might live in safety. And even in this, God wrought Esau's good by 
putting him out of Canaan ; for then with the rest of the Canaanites they 
had been destroyed by Israel ; but God made good that temporal blessing 
upon Esau and his seed which his father Isaac gave him, Gen. xxvii 31), -40. 
Indeed, the Amalekites, though derived from Esau, were destroyed by Israel ; 
but the reason may be thus gathered, because Amalek was the son of Eliphaz, 
the son of Esau, by a concubine ', the Idumeans, that were legitimate suc- 
cessors, were preserved. Such was the different respect to the right and the 
bastard seed ; for God is said to give Mount Seir to Esau : * I gave unto 
Esau Mount Seir to possess it,' Josh. xxiv. 4- ; therefore the Israelites, among 
their spoils of Canaan, were expressly forbidden to destroy it : ' Ye shall not 
provoke them ; for I will not give you of their land so much as a foot- 
breadth, because I have given Mount Seir to Esau for a possession.' Such 
was God's mercy to Esau for his father's sake, that his posterity was made 
great and honourable. 

But if the Horites first inhabited Mount Seir, how comes the posterity of 
Esau to enjoy it ? It is answered in Deut. ii. 12, 'The Horims dwelt in 
Mount Seir beforetime, whom the children of Esau chased out, and destroyed 
them, and dwelt in their stead.' So doth sin quench the veiy cinders of 
natural affection, after it hath put out the flames of rehgion, that the children 
of Esau ceased not till they had extinguished their own kindred. The re- 
spect of blood must give way to rapine and malice. Too weak is nature to 
restrain the fury of sin, when it is stung by that fiery .'Serpent, the devil. 
The Romish mountain doth claun .some kin of this Mount Seir, at least in 
the opinion of the Jews. There is one place in Kdom called .Magdiel ; tliis the 
Rabbins take for Rome, and say, that of the Idumeans came the Romans. 
It is not so locally, it may be well spiritually ; for, for persecution of the 
saints, there is no such Edom in the world as Rome. But Magdiel signifies 
'praising God.' Oh, blessed were Rome if in this she could be called Mag- 
diel ! This Seir was a mountain of great strength, not infertile ; and, as great 



302 THE gallant's burdkn. [Skrmon XIX. 

probability gives it, graced with either oue or many goodly cities : ' Who 
will bring me into Edom 1 who will lead me into the strong city 1 ' Ps. Ix. 9. 
Neither may Ave think that the offs])ring of Edom, when once made dukes, 
nay, kings, contented themselves to dwell in tents. 

But what if a mountain, what if a city, or the strength of Edom ; is it able 
to grapple with the wrath of God, or lauckle with his judgments? If any 
piece of the broad earth were shot-proof against the anger of God, as they 
feign the garden of Hesperides against the planets, it would not be unsought, 
imbought. There have been mountains and cities before and after Seir, 
prouder and stronger than she, that have measured their length on the 
ground, and been dissolved to dust and rubbish ; and Edom herself hath 
danced the same measure. The world hath gloried, in her several ages, of 
many goodly cities : Nineveh, the pride of Assyria ; Troy, the pillar of Asia ; 
Babylon, more a region than a city ; Carthage, graced with seventeen tribu- 
tary kingdoms ; and let not Jerusalem be shut from both the glory and sad- 
ness of this relation. May we not say of them all now, Etiam penere ruince ? 
— That little of them is dissolved to nothing 1 Thus God cools and damps 
the glory of Israel : Amos vi. 2, ' Go you unto Calneh, and see ; and from 
thence go unto Hamath the great : then go down to Gath of the Philistines : 
be they better than these kmgdoms ? or the border of their land greater 
than your border]' 

Constantius spake of old Rome, that nature had emptied all her forces on 
that one city ; the time came, she was overthrown, and her walls made even 
with the ground. The titles of new Rome are greater, not her privileges. 
She is called, urbs ceterna ; yet that eternal Babylon shall fall, and in the 
decree of heaven she is already fallen, for the more sureness ; and all her 
merchants, petty leases taken out of her grand lease, shall mourn bitterly for 
her : she shall be made a cage of unclean birds, owls and vultures, as she is 
now a den of unclean beasts, lions and tigers. If any city on earth might 
boast her privileges, let Jerusalem speak ; she was called ' the holy city,' and 
' the "city of God : ' the temple in her, a figure of the church militant, as 
Solomon, the builder of it, was a type of Christ. ' Behold, her house is left 
unto her desolate ! ' Sin laid her pmnacles in the dust. At the murder of 
his Son, God with his own hands rent the veil, and after gave the whole 
fabric a spoil to the Gentiles. They that have travelled the lower provinces 
testify that the rude heaps of ruined churches, monasteries, and religious 
places are no less frequent then pitied spectacles. Devotion built them, 
kept them ; sin polluted them, hostility subverted them. Sin prepared the 
way for ruin and blood ; the idolatry within overthrew the walls without. 
They could plead more than Dumah ; they and their pleas are perished. 

Let me not speak as a prophet, but as an admonisher. Is it impossible 
for the sin of England to have the like effect % We are ready to say in pride, 
what David sjiake in the assurance of faith, ' I cannot fall ; thou, O Lord, of 
thy goodness, hast made my hill so strong.' Let us praise God for that we 
have, and pray that our sins subvert it not. Let Dumah speak with pride ; 
though our privileges be more, let our presumption be less. It is wise and 
safe to possess more than we boast of. Though nature hath bound up the 
loms of our kingdom with a girdle of waves, and policy raised another fence 
of wooden walls, yet God must put about us a third girdle, the bands or 
circle of his providence, or our strength is weaker than the waters. It is an 
old and sure rule against the atheist, against the worldlings : That whole 
cannot be perpetual whose parts be alterable. If the members of this great 
body, the world, change, faint, and grow old, it argues a creeping decay to 



IsA. XXL 11, 12.] THE gallant's uuudex. 3u3 

the whole. Let Ibe cormonmt know, that woiild build his nest here for ever, 
that parts of this land are alterable, therefore the whole not permanent If 
the plague takes away men, the fields grow barren ; nay, the we;Lricd earth, 
after much industry, is dull in her fruits ; like an unnatural step-dame, she 
produceth not good tluugs of herself : if a deluge overrun us, we and our 
glory vanish. God hath more means than one to inllict his judgments. It 
is with no less admiration th;ui truth reported, that a whole held in England 
is turned in one month from a fertile soil to a most barren waste. It lies 
from the danger of inundation, from the reach of the hand of war ; what then 
can turn it to a perpetual barrenness ( Thus : God raiseth a mighty wind, 
that uncovers a mountahi of sand, which oversjiread-s the fruitful valley to a 
great thickness ; and it is made worse than Carmel, which God thus threatens : 
' I will turn Lebanon into Carmel, and Carmel into a forest." It lies in the 
power of maiVs sins to make God curse his very blessings. 

The burden of Dumah is war. Mount Seir fears it not. If the book of our 
hearts lay open to be read, I think our fear of war is less than theirs. God 
grant our presumption, our security, be not as great ! ' We sit under our own 
tig-trees, and eat the fruits of our own vineyards. Our children go out by 
flocks and dances, and flourish like the oUve branches round about our table. 
Our oxen aie strong to labour, our sheep bring forth thousands and ten 
thousands in our streets. There is no leading into captivity, no dashing of 
our children again.st the stones, no complaining in our streets.' If this one 
blesshig exceed not our thankfulness for all, my observation is deceived. 
But what a bold inference is this : There is no war, therefore may be none, 
iior can we be overthrown ] It is a speech as common as the stones in our 
streets, when consideration of war is offered : We need fear no enemies, if we 
be true amongst ourselves. Vain security, that is built upon ifs and ands I 
Who shall make us true to ourselves, that have been false to God ? Are 
there no sous of Beliid amongst us, that curse the prosperity of Zion, and 
gape for the day to cry, 'Down A\-ith it, down with it, even to the ground?' 
We know they have openly and privately, with coat of armour and coat of 
mail, assaulted the peace of Jerusalem, but, praise to our God, received shame 
in putting oft' their harness. 

Let this make us thaidiful, not secure ; as if God could not reach his arm 
over our narrow seas. Behold France made a cockpit for massacres, by 
the uncivil civil wars thereof ; think of the unquiet bread long eaten in the 
Low Countries ; and when thou sayest, We lay our heads on the pillows of 
peace, and eat the bread of plenty, IcLss his hauil with jiraises that feeds thee 
with these blessings, but let not thy own strength make thee careless. The 
Papists thus re-hearten themselves against all the overthrows given them by 
this little island, that our time is not yet come, our sins are not yet full. 
That Ignatian sectary, Pererius, so notes in Gen. xv., 'The wickedne.ss of the 
Amorites is not yet fuU,' &c. He gives it by way of comment : but it is a 
false ghjss, I trust, and carries no more truth with it than other the fictions 
of Home. His words ;ire these : ' Let no man wonder why God sufl'crs the 
persecution of the Catholics in England : the sins of the Amorites are not 
yet full, their wickedness is not yet complete ; when it is, the divine revenge 
shall fall' They expected this day at the last change. God changed their 
expectation to folly ; and as it was our grief that sol occuhuit, our sun set, 
so it is our joy, wonder, nox nulla secuta est, no night followed. 

' Mira cano : sol occubuit, nox nulla secuta est.' 

I hope his prophecy is as false for the event, as I am sure his application is 



304 THE gallant's burden. [Sermon XIX. 

for the tiling. We are neither those uncircumcised Amorites, unchristened 
Pao-aus, nor do we persecute the Catholics ; except to have liberty of law, 
grow rich, purchase lands, beard and brave the ministers of God to their 
faces, be called persecution. Here I cannot but mention, what is well ob- 
served by a most reverend and honoured judge of this land,* that whereas 
there have been three hundred burnt by Queen ]Mary for religion, there have 
scarce thirty Papists been executed by Queen Elizabeth for treason. Yet, I 
hope, there is some diflereuce betwLxt three hundred and thirty, rehgion and 
treason ; betwixt the five years' reign of the one, and the forty-four of the 
other. I know then- rebellions, treasons, conspiracies, meet with execution ; 
no persecution to their religion. Happy would our martyrs have thought 
themselves, if on such terms they might have i-edeemed their consciences ! 
No ; the iniquities of Babel have filled up their measure rather, and their 
judgment long ago was far off, and their damnation sleepeth not. Pererius 
is his own prophet against us ; we speak not against them of ourselves, the 
Holy Ghost speaks for us, who ' shall shortly consume that man of sin with 
the breath of his nostrils.' Let their eyes stare for our overthrows till they 
fall out of then- unfortunate heads : God hath blessed, and the Balaam of 
Rome shall never be able to curse, Num. xxiii. 20. Only let not our zeal 
be wanting to our God, to our church, to ourselves, and God shall not be 
wanting to us, nor all the hosts which he fights Avith ; and once again, if 
need be, conjurati venient in classica venti, — the winds and seas shall take 
our part. Let not our peace make us wanton, nor our wealth proud ; our 
help stands ' in the name of God,' not in forts and swords. 

To speak more particularly ; be not too confident, whosoever, in thy Mount 
Seir. Every wicked soul hath her Mount Seir to trust in ; they that have 
no assurance of rest in heaven, have their refuges and mountains of help on 
earth. David so returns it upon the wicked, Ps. xi. 1, ' In the Lord put I 
my trust : how then say you to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain 1 ' 
Why should I seek to foreign helps, that have settled myself in the bosom 
of rest itself? Riches are a Mount Seir to the covetous ; they rest on them, 
as the ark on the mountains of Ai-menia. Honour is a Mount Seir to the 
ambitious, against all the besiegings of rivals. Sensuality to the voluptuous, 
against all the disturbances of a clamorous conscience. Pride, fraud, drunken- 
liCjs, are a Mount Seir to the lovers of them ; but alas, how unsafe ! If stronger 
against, and further removed from the hand of man, yet nearer to God's hand 
in heaven; though we acknowledge no place procal d, Jove, or procul cbful- 
mine, — far from God, or from his thunder. But we say, it is not the safest 
sailing on the top of the mast ; to live on the mountainous height of a tem- 
poral estate is neither wise nor happy. Men standhig in the shade of humble 
valleys, look up and wonder at the height of hills, and think it goodly living 
there, as Peter thought Tabor, liomim est esse hie ; but when with weary 
limbs they have ascended, and find the beams of the sun melting their spirits, 
or the cold blasts of wind making their sinews stark, flashes of lightning or 
cracks of thunder soonest endangering their advanced heads, then they con- 
fess, checking their proud conceit, the low valley is safest ; for the fruitful 
dews that fail lir.st on the hills stay least while there, but run down to the 
valleys. And tlu)ugh on such a promontory a man further sees, and is 
further seen, yet in the valley, where he sees less, he enjoys more. Take 
laud, then, lest to raise thy Mount Seir high, thou dejectest thy soiil : ' Woe 
unto them tliat are at ease in Zion, and trust in the mountain of Samaria !' 
Amos vi. 1. If we build our houses by unrighteousness, and our chambers 
* L. Coke. 



LsA. XXI. 11, 12.] THE gallant's eukden. 30J 

without equity, thougli as strong as Mount Seir, they shall not be able to 
stand in the earthquake of judgment. God so threatens Jehoiakim : ' Shalt 
thou reign, because thou closest thyself in cedar ? did not thy father eat and 
drink and prosper, when he executed judgment and justice ? ' ic, Jer. x.\iL 15. 
Think not your houses to be fortresses, when your souls are unarmed of 
Christian weapons — faith and obedience. You had, and shall liave peace, 
whiles you pursue it with righteous endeavours ; whiles you guide all your 
actions by the line of the sanctuary, and steer your attempts by the compass 
of the gospel. Plenty shaU spread your tables, whiles cliarity takes away 
and gives to the poor. These holy courses shall make you ct)ntiiuie, hi de- 
spite of heU and Kome ; your mountain shall be hedged about with the 
mercies of God, and your children shall defy their enemies in the gates. 

(2.) The person must not be omitted to whom this scoffing question is 
moved : the watchman. It seems the prophet had denounced agauist Edom 
war ; they deride his message as a leasing, and his person under the name 
of a watchman ; nay, therefore they scorn him, because a watchman. I 
will not insist on the duties of watchmen ; every common soldier can school 
the watchman. Many presume to teach us our duties, that will be ranged 
within no order themselves. That which a watchman is to the city, or 
sentinel to the leagure, a minister is to the people. To watch over yourselves 
is every particular man's duty ; to watch over all, opu^ ministri, is the 
work of the ministry. If our eyes be bUnd in descrj'ing dangers, our tongues 
dumb to give warning, the city or fort is easily taken. Now, qnam clanioris 
vocem datunis est pjxeco mutus ? — what warnhig shall a dumb watchman 
give 1 Some wiU not speak ; the fountain of their knowledge is, shut up, like 
Laban's w^ell, with a gTcat stone of security, saturity, stateliness : others ^\iU 
speak too much, making the pulpit a pasquil to case their spleens, to tra- 
duce superiors. Medio tutissimus ibis, — The mean and honest way is the 
safest. 

Bui what say we to usurpers, wolves, t}Tants, that call themselves watch- 
men ? That hi-nominis, hi-linguis, double-named, doul ile-tongued, double- 
swordcd, and not single-hearted demi-god of Home, calls himself sometimes 
a watchman, sometimes a king, the servant of servants, the kuig of kings ; 
as if there was no difference betwixt the serviceable watchman and the com- 
manding prince ; betwixt the sentinel of the leagure and the general of the 
army. Ad duo qui tendit, non unum, nee duo prendit, — Whiles he claims 
both, usurps one, truth allows him neither. His actions shew him no ser-' 
vant. Ferioido non ferendo ogit, — Ho gives blows, but takes none. To be 
such a watchman as he desires, possibility is denied hhu, since his eyes can- 
not look so far as he would extend his arm ; not to watch over Home only, 
but so far as the world is christened. Behold, saith he, ' I have two 
swords.' One of them he lets mst, — I mean the sword of the Spirit, — the 
other he keeps bright \vith the blood of saints, and makes it shine with the 
gall of martyrs. Principalis principatits ct triplici corona, — The principal 
princii>ality is from the triple crown. As the sun exceeds the earth, so tlie 
Pope all Christian princes; other kings are but his bailiffs. Did you ever 
hear a watchman speak thus, or arrogate to himself such a reign : in foro 
poll, in foro pluli, in foro consdenlioi ? — in the court of heaven, in the court 
of hell, and in the court of every conscience? If any resist liis tyranny, ho 
snatcheth from Christ that his word and usurps it : * liring those mine ene- 
mies, that would not have me reigni over them, and slay them Itcforc n»e,' 
Luke xix. 27. If he cannot behold it in action, he will see it in picture, as 
the massacre of Paris on St Bartholomew's night was pictured in the Pope's 

VOL. L If 



30G THE gallant's burden. [Sermon XIX. 

palace to entertain his holy eye with pleasure. So would the powder trea- 
son have been, if the matter had hit right. As horrid as the thought of it 
is to an honest nimd, the hoisting up of buildings, shivering of bodies, 
tearuig up of monuments, dissipation, massacre, murder of old, young, prince, 
people, senators and senate, dra-wTi to the life by the art of the painter, would 
have been a contenting spectacle for so holy an eye to contemplate. Sure 
there is honesty in hell, if this be religion. If the devil can devise more 
execrable stratagems, let him change seats with the Pope. Christ meddled 
with neither Herod nor emperor, king nor Cajsar ; no emperors held his 
stirrup, no kings kissed his blessed feet ; he only fought with the weapons 
of tlie Spirit against sin and Satan. The Pope is a watchman indeed ; but 
he watcheth to invade, besiege, enter, and spoil the city of God. He hath 
other watchmen under him, unclean birds, fluttering from that vidture of 
Babylon, and flying like bats and owls under the eaves of night, to vomit the 
poisons of heresy and treasons from their swollen gorges. Watchmen like 
the chaplains of Mars, at Rome, in the days of idolatry, that practised to toss 
firebrands from camp to camp, to inflame evd affections ; that care not whose 
blood they sacrifice to their Pioman god, without distinction of Trojan, of 
Tyrian, nor out of whose sepidchres they dig themselves an estate. They 
watch indeed, for they keep a register of aU our proceedings against them 
in these halcyon days of ours ; and if ever the sun of alteration shine on 
their faces, they wdl repay us ten blows for one upon our burgonets. Mean- 
time (our praises to heaven !) they watch their own bane ; and, as one writes 
of Parry, so I may of the end of them all : Itala gens sceleri te dedit, Angla 
cruci, — Italy gives them their villany, England their gallows. This is thcu- 
malus, but merikis Jinis, — the evil, but deserved end of them aU. England 
is sinful enough, but she professeth not herself a schoolmistress of sins, as 
Eome doth of treason. There it is professed, taught, learned, and (as on the 
sandy theatre) exercised before it come to the fatal execution. 

The priests of perverted Israel were but shadows of those of apostate 
Eorrie : ' As thieves wait for a man, so the company of priests murder in the 
way by consent,' Hosea vi. 9. Hence that proverb carries no less truth 
than antiquity with it : ' An Englishman Italianate is a devil incarnate.' 
These are those Jesuits, Jebusites, incendiaries, traitors, and not less than 
devils, but that they have bodies. God bless us fi'om such watchmen ! If 
these be watchmen, who are enemies ? 

We sec, then, the vanity of their labours that would undertake to bring 
us to a composition. If heresy can be made sincerity, idolatry true religion, 
treason obedience, we may be united ; but it is a sure rule — contraries in the 
ab.stract can never be reconciled. God put an unappeasable contention be- 
twixt the two seeds, of the woman and serpent, when he put enmity between 
thorn ; for an enemy may be made a friend, but enmity can never be made 
friendship : the air that is dark may be made light, but darkness cannot be 
made brightness : a Papist may be converted to a Christian, but Papistry 
can never be made Christianity, no more than Antichrist can become Christ. 
Our strife with them is not for the extension of limits, but for the possession 
(,)f the inheritance ; whether grace or nature, the Pope's law or God's, shall 
take place in the conscience. So I have read of that audacious and sotti.sh 
hermit, that would undertake to make God and the devil friends ; the im- 
jxtssibility of which attempt the devil could tell him : God is all light, and 
I am all darkness, so that my foul nature cannot be hidden ; our affections, 
seats, persons are so opposed, that I have no hope of peace. They will not, 
we m;iy not yield; except the sheep shall compound with the wolf, or tho 



Is A. XXI. 11, 12,] THE gallant's BURDEN. 307 

niice with the cat ; which the old talc forbids, though the cat get on a monk'a 
cowl, and cries demurely through the crevices — 

' Quod f ueram, non sum, frater ; caput aspicc tonsum.' 

' Glood brother mouse, creep out thy house, come forth and let ua chat : 
Behold, my crown is shaven down ; I 'm now a priest, no cat. 
When cats say mass, the mice, al.a.s ! must pray agaiust their will : 
Kind puss, your pate is smooth of late ; your heart is rugged stilL' 

Experience would teach us the an.swcr of the verse, though we had never 
read it — 

' Vix tibi prresto fidcm, cor tibi restat idem.' 

To leave the incorrigible watchmen of Rome, — since we would have cured 
Babel, and she would not be cured, — let us look home to ourselves. The 
wolves of Rome have no more honour than the watchmen of England scorn : 
the Edomites of the world cannot abide ministers. The best is, they are 
but Edomites, heirs of Esau, and as profane as their father, that make re- 
ligion their minstrel to procure them sport and sleep. No jest ends in such 
laughter as that which is broken on a priest ; the proof is plain in every 
tavern and theatre. We serve indeed contrary masters : we, C?hrist ; they, 
lust and Satan : and hinc ilhe rixce of theirs, hinc ilbc lachri/jwv of ours, 
— hence their flouts and our tears. We bite them with the salt of reproof, 
hence they storm ; we cast ink and gall on their tetters, hence they startle. 
Veritatem lucentem miilti diligunt, argnentem rejiciunt : dum se ostendit coli- 
mus, dum nos ostendit, ndio habemus, — The truth shining, many love ; re- 
proving, they reject : whiles it shews itself, we embrace it ; whiles it shews 
us, we cannot endure it. Even in this consists at once our happiness, their 
danmation : our happiness, 'Blessed are ye when for me persecuted;' their 
danniation, ' That light being in the world, they embrace, and are glad of 
darkness ;' though their WTongs done us be against the law of arms and 
nature, for an ambassador should be inter hostium tela incolumis, — safe 
among the weapons of enemies. 

But do the Edomites only take up these weapons of scorn again.st us ? 
No, — I speak it betwixt shame and grief, — even the Israelites scorn the ])ro- 
phets. There are some sick of a wantonness in religion, .so hot about the 
question de modo, that the devil steals the matter of religion from their, 
hearts. If we cannot wrangle with forms and shadows, and shew ourselves 
refractory to established orders, we .shall viale aiidire ; our sennons shall be 
sliglited, our persons derided. This, tliis is the mischief: men of name, 
professors of note, when they speak bitterly of us, their credit carries it 
strong with owx scandals.* One arrow of these Israelites wounds deeper than 
a hundred cannon-shot of the Edomites. I confess, I speak stones ; but if 
they hit as they are intended, they shall heal .some, hurt none. Dicatur 
vej'itas, rumpatiw invidia, — Let truth be spoken, and envy burst her galL 
Let all these Scomers remember that the contcmjit done to us, redounds to 
God himself: 'He that despiseth us, despiseth men; he that dcspi.seth 
Christ, despiseth his Saviour.' Js all this nothing? 'But he that (Uspistth 
me and you, despiseth him that sent me and you.' It comes to somewhat 
then ; and more than ever mortal m.-xn shall be able to answer. Is it not 
enough for them, that they have drawn out the life-blood of our livings, but 
they nuist expose our persons to contemi)t? So the Jews spoiled Christ of 
his vestments, and then mocked him with ba-scncss. Our poverty is flouted 
by them that have our livings. Surely, if repentance and nstitiitioii pre- 



308 THE gallant's burden. [Sermon XIX. 

vent it not, tliey shall have tithe one day which they have more right to — 
the tenth sheaf of that harvest which is reserved for reprobates iu hell. The 
Turks lay it as an imputation on our religion, that we spoil our gods. For 
shame ! Do not the Turks, and shall the Christians 1 David would not have 
Araunah's threshing-floor without money; if these men should have no 
room in the church but what they pay for, I think they would quietly suffer 
themselves to be turned forth of doors. 

(3.) The last branch of the map, and first of the moral, are not. unfitly con- 
joined — the Edomite, and his question. 

II. — 1. The question then calls me from the watchman, 'What is in the 
night V And to make the derision fuUer and fouler, it is doubled, like Pha- 
raoh's dream, 'What is in the night?' Did they seek for some prodigy or 
portent? some divine revelation, which should be received by vision? 
Were they like Israel, of whom Christ thus testifies, 'This adulterous 
generation seeks for a sign?' Matt. xii. 39. Thus Dives despaired of his 
brethren's belief, except one rose from the dead. I confess we have some in 
the world sick of this disease ; a Jewish infection : ' The Jews require a sign,' 
&c. Fhis oculo, quam oracido. Miseries shall work more on them than 
mysteries ; palpable actions of God's mercy, justice, power, shall convince 
them, the contemplation of them all in the theory of the word moves them 
not ; astonish them with wonders, heal their disease, open their blind eyes, 
raise their dead, and they will believe. Are there none among us that couch 
a willing and close ear to the charms of Rome, in admiration of their feigned 
miracles ? lying apostles, that work strange things by exorcisms ? But our 
church now is not in the cradle of her infancy. One cup of wine brought 
by Christ is worth all the cups of cold water by Moses : as St Augustine, 
alluding to that marriage in Galilee, says, 'AH the adumbrations, types, 
figures, signs, were but that cup of cold water ; Christ reserved the good 
wine (of the gospel) till he came himself;' and they that wDl not beheve 
without a sign, without a sign must perish. But I travel no further in this, 
lest "it bring me out of my way. 

It was no sign they inquke for, no prodigy they fear; they are only 
pleased to make sport with the menaces of God : ' You talk of a night, and 
an hour of calamity ; but threatened men draw long breaths. You pretend 
visions in the night, which portend our ruin ; come, tell us the tale of the 
night : what is in the night?' There have been in all ages some of these 
frogs, to throat it out against God so long as the weather was fair, as if ho 
could not send a storm ; the tempests of God's wrath have been derided to 
the last moment of a calm. The venom of prosperity so empoisons a carnal 
mind : Jilia divitiarum superhia, — the daughter of riches is pride. The 
philosopher could teach us that facilitas et humilkas dividuum habent con- 
tuberniam : raro bona mens et bona fortuna homini datur, — happiness and 
humbleness are chamber-fellows : seldom a good mind and a good estate is 
given to the same man. God seemed to mistrust this in Israel, that the increas- 
ing of goods, and multiplying of cattle would lift up their hearts against him, 
Deut. viii. 13, 14. The peaceable days of the wicked, and their luckly pro- 
ceeduigs in this world, by the testimony of Job, enrageth their impudence 
against heaven : 'Who is the Almighty, that we should serve him?' chap. 
xxi. 15. 'Depart from us; we will none of thy ways.' That of the psalm 
is full of strength to tliis : ' His ways prosper : thy judgments are far above 
out of his siglit ; therefore defieth he all his enemies,' Ts. x. 4. ]\Ian only ? 
No ; God himself : ' I shall never be removed.' Let Malachi for all the 
prophets, Peter for all the apostles, make up this cloud of witnesses : 'It is 



IsA. XXI. 11, 12.] THE gallant's EuiiDEy. :i09 

in vain to serve the Lord,' j\Ial. iii. 11 ; and, ' Where is the promise of his 
coming?' 2 Pet. iii. 4. AU things are still statu quo, continued in the 
same course ; there is no alteration, no new thing done qnocuivfie sub axe, 
under heaven. We say, Noii bonum ludere cum Sanctis, — It is no safe jest- 
ing with holy things. It is dangerous for an Edomite to make hin)self 
merry with God ; this is the way to come short home : thnu had.st better 
have mourned all thy life than made God thy playfellow. When the vessel 
of dust shall encounter with the arm of omnipotence, sive percnti<tt, sice, per- 
cutiatur, frangi necesse est, — whether it smite or be smitten, it is sure to be 
broken. The chair of the scorner is the seat of Satan, imus gradus et limen 
infer ni, — the lowest stair and very threshold of hell, as David describes it : 
Ps. i. 1, ' Blessed is the man that doth not walk,' kc. His first plot is to 
get us to walk a turn or two Anth him ; having persuaded this, he moves us 
to stand still a little : but so long as we are standing, we are going ; there- 
fore at last he entreats ns, for our ease, to sit down : but if we take our seat 
in that enchanted chair, we grow to that impudence to deride God and his 
judgments. I will single you out four sorts of these Edomites, scorners, — 
for I justly parallel them, — and propound their natures and conditions to 
your pity and detestation : — 

(1.) Atheists: such as have voluntarily, violently, extinguished to them- 
selves the sunlight of the Scripture, moonlight of the creature, nay, the 
sparks and cinders of nature, that the more securely, as unseen and un- 
chidden of their OAvn hearts, they might prodigally act the works of darkness : 
not, Athenian-like, dedicating au altar to an unknown god, but annihilating 
to themselves, and vilipending to others, altar, religion, God, and suffocatmg 
the breath of all motions, arguments, manifest con\'ictions that heaven and 
earth produced ; for the reasons of hell only shall one day evince it, Deum 
esse, — that there is a God. They affirm it impossible that flesh should be 
turned to rottenness, rottenness to dust, and dust to glory. Against whom, 
well, St Augustine, Quipotuit formare novum, non poterit reparare mortuum i 
Facilior est restitutio consiituiione, — He that could form us of nothing, can 
reform us decayed : it is easier to repair than prepare. That atheism in the 
days of Solomon was the same m opinion that ours is in practice. AVe do 
not say, but live as if it was better to be ' a living dog than a dead lion.;' 
which I woidd yield tme among be;ists, but among men, a dead beast is 
better than a living atheist. Let them ask nature, it will tell them : In- 
Kculplum est ornnihus esse Deum, — It is engraven on all hearts that there is a 
Deity. Let them ask the creatures, they will witness they had a Creator. 
Nay, let the devil speak, to .shame and convince the atheist, who believes a 
God, and trembles at his own belief. The nature of his essence proveth it. 
To know there is a witch, may satisfy us that there is a God ; for if the de- 
stroying power were not controlled, manacled, mastered, how stand we unde- 
voured ? Let them ask, lastly, their own dying hearts ; for the eyes that sin 
hath shut, damnation shall open. Qui negnt esse deum ; mihi negat et tibi, 
non sihi, cLx. Oculos, quos culpa clausit, pcena aiieriet. 

(2.) Epicures: that deny not a God atid a day of judgment, but put it far 
off, Amos vi. 3, with Aa.Ss aoi to /m'sXXov, Give me the i)rcsent, take th<iu the hope 
of future joys. These see a night coming, and therefore make haste to be drunk 
with pleasures : 1 Cor. xv. 32, ' Let ns eat and drink, for to-morrow we shall 
die.' Cras ridendo morinntur, hodie biljendo sepeliuntur, — They will not die till 
to-morrow, but be buried in riot to-day. They sleep on their beds of down, 
rise to their tables of surfeit, and from thence to their sports of mischief; 
sleeping, playmg, eating, dancing, drinking, dallying: vwtu r/r."/."/ _tl,oy 



310 THE gallant's BURDEN. [SeEMON XIX. 

run round in a ring. Only, nulla intcrvalla piando, — no time must be 
sjjared from Satan. They invert the order God hatli disposed to the times 
preposterously, making the night day, and the day night ; at midnight they 
revel, at noon they sleep, though the day was created for labour, the night 
for repose. The sun is scarce beholden to their eyes to look upon him ; the 
moon and stars have only their attendance ; the works and the hour of 
darkness meet ; they will be contrary to all men and all things but them- 
selves, because they will be contrary. If ever they begin any work with the 
day, they dispose it on this fashion : first they visit the tavern, then the 
ordinary, then the theatre, and end in the stews ; from wine to riot, from 
that to plays, from them to harlots. 

' Iste dies pulchro distinguitur ordine reruin,' — 

Here is a day spent in an excellent method. If they were beasts, they could 
not better scnsualise. It would be but lost labour to tell them that their 
course shall be so proportioned below : from snakes they shall turn upon 
adders, from both to scorpions, from all to unquenched flames ; where they 
spend not hours but ages, nay, that eternity of time, in wailings and bowl- 
ings, groans and torments ; when for every ounce of vanity, they shall receive, 
down weight, a whole pound of sorrow. Smokes, blackness, boiling cal- 
drons, fiery burnings of brimstone and sulphur, kindled and continued by 
the breath of an offended God, shall have their interchanged courses : oft 
this torment, and then that ; and indeed all that a soul and body made im- 
mortal can suffer. 

' Iste dies misero distinguitur ordine rerum,' — 

Here is a day to be spent in a miserable method. Oh, how, yet, was it 
some happiness if in a day or set time these woes could be determined ! — 
These are the epicures, not so impudent as to deny the night, not so honest 
as to part with their sins. 

(o.) Libertines : that neither affirm no night, nor put it far off, but only 
the strength of sin prevails over all ; and, come sorrow, death, grave, hell, 
they must have their pleasures. They have a pride in accomplishing their 
own wills, as she in the poet ; — 

' Video meliora proboque 
Deteriora sequor ;' — 

' I see the good, and give allowance to it : 
The evil is my choice, I love and do it.' 

They cannot bo noted for virtuous, but they will be famous, though for in- 
famy -. as that wicked church-robber, that to do some memorable act, pulled 
all the lead off the church's roof and thatched it ; they must be mentioned, 
though like a traitor's name in the chronicles. These swear away all re- 
pro(jfs, and drink away all the chidings of their own conscience. It shall be 
the worse for them that ever they had a conscience ; their hell shall be the 
hotter for the multitude of their neglected motions to good. Their mercies 
have not been more numerous than shall be their miseries. Their nature or 
learning (to omit those that never read any other book than vanity) at once 
makes them better and worse ; better in understanding, worse in manners ; 
whUes their contem[)lation is a theatre, and thcu- study new sports, new 
fasliions. Oh, how far better is the simple, honest, innocent soul without 
knowledge, than that which is beautified with learning and debauched with 
vices ! 



ISA. XXL 11, 12.] THE GALL.VNTS BURDEN. 311 

'Beatus illo qui procul negotus, 
Paterna rura bubus excrcet suis/ — 

More happy are those poor wretches, confined and contented with a rur;il 
charge. Whiles they know not so much of good, they knuw less of ill ; tliey 
skill not what the studying of oaths, the tricks of }»rido, the policy of athe- 
ism means ; they make not sense the rule of their belief, with the gallant, 
but their catechism. Religion is their queen, the gallant's dmdge. They 
have not so much of reason, tlierefore abuse the less. Their sins proceed 
most from ignorance, the gallant's from knowing wilfulness. Now, which of 
these shall be beaten wath most stripes 1 They work out a poor living with' 
the sweat of their brows and nerves; these can play out a rich one from the 
quickness of their wits. They know not the detractions of slander, under- 
minings of envy, provocations, heats, enlurings of lusts ; the foul secrecies of 
idolatry, hypocrisy, sacrilege, cleave not to their consciences ; they have a 
kind of happiness, in that they are not so miserable. Our impudent, impru- 
dent, insolent youngsters look on these bet\^-ixt contempt and anger, call 
them clowns, idiots, and the dregs of nature, and think themselves angels if 
these be men, quorum prcecnrdia Titan de pejore luto Jinxit, — as if God had 
tempered them of a baser mould. But whiles Actaiou's bond-slave grinds 
securely (though laboriously) at the mill, his brave, rit)tous, gallant, hunting 
master is turned to a beast, and for his sensuaUty eaten up of his own lusts : 
you all know the story, this is the moral. This, this is the proper cause 
that the ancient houses fall ; and what long industry of the progenitt)rs liath 
gotten, the short riot of the gallant wastes. We are loath to hear of this ; _/ 
but it is too true. He needs not drink up all the sea, that wdl judge of 
the taste : hence young gentlemen, by w^ild uuthriftiness, become sports to 
theatres, and cannot sit in their fathers' scats to do good in the common- 
wealth. They abound with the gifts of nature ; but, Uke fig-trees growing 
over deep waters, full of fruit, but the jays eat them, llufhans, harlots, 
vicious companions, enjoy those graces that might honour God. 

(4.) Common profane persons : that wiU sufier themselves to wear God's 
livery, though they serve the devU. These are they that make the profession 
of the gospel have an evil name ; hence that jjroverb, Paternoster set up 
churches ; ' Our Father' pulls them down. I wUl not favour with a i)artiid 
connivance these scorners, though they nestle themselves in the church's bo- 
som. Nay, I win speak most plainly; these are the worst Edomitcs, if not 
to themselves, to us. Let the atheist deny, the ejMcure remove, the Ubertine 
forget, that there is any other day of peace or sorrow besides or beyond the 
present ; what is this to believers ? We are ready to brand and hoot at 
them, as they did to the lepers in Israel ; nay, to rain them to death with a 
shower of stones, as they sensed idolaters and blasphemer.s. Ihit be our own 
hands undefiled, that take up these weapons of death again.st othera, as 
Chiist charged the Jews, that charged the adulterous woman ? If we be 
sick, our sickness is more dangerous than theirs. The other disea.ses are 
without the body, but this comes nearer the heart of the church. We know 
what it is to have a sickness come near the heart : interius, et in cute malum. 
There is more grief to the mother of the family hi the miscarrying of one of 
the children, than of many strangers, Edomites, unbelievers or mlsbeUevers. 
These have learned to speak the language, to scorn the manners of Canaan ; 
for their lives testify that they believe not our report. 

2. We liave gone the better half of our journey, let not your attentions 
fail to the end. We have seen the nature of Edom and Mount Scir— atheism, 
scorn, abomination ; we are now entering another mountain, the hill of Zion, 



312 THE gallant's burden. [Sekmon XIX. 

the city of God. The question of the Edomite was not more perverse than 
the answer of the watchman is grave and sober. The answers of God are 
not doubtful, like the heathen oracles; nor obscure and tetrical, as Mo- 
hammed's riddles ; nor ambiguous, like the mixed, the motley, epicene, equi- 
vocating conclusions of Ptome; but plain, sweet, profitable. 

(1.) I call, therefore, the first part of it a resolution. They ask as if they 
desi^ised to know ; he resolves them justly, as if he would force them to 
know against their wills. They ask him what is spiritually seen in the night 
of vision; he tells them what shall really come in the night of actual deso- 
lation ; ' The morning cometh, and also the night.' Let your understandings 
keep pace with me through these four circumstances : — [1.] The length of 
their peace : one whole day, the space betwixt morning and evening ; a short 
time ; finitxim pro indejinito, breviiatem temporis dies exprimit. [2.] The 
certainty of their judgment ; ' The night' infallibly ' cometh.' [3.] The qua- 
lity of it when it is come ; nox dicitur, it is called a night. [4.j The inver- 
sion of this to the righteous. 

[1.] The happiness of Edom is but a day; ' The morning comes, and the 
night' follows : it is but the distance of the sunrising from the setting. 
There is to all things living such an alteration decreed : a morn, a noon, a 
night ; a beginning, a strong age, a declination or full point. As the his- 
torians write of certain flies bred by the river Hispanis, that are generated 
in the morning, at noon in full strength, and at night make their ends, and 
are gone : Paul says, ' Our life is but a tabernacle,' it is all, if this stands a 
year ; Isaiah calls it grass, which grows but in summer ; David, a flower, 
hath but his month ; here it is called a day, that hath but the sunrising 
and setting. Nay, Job compares it to a shadow, that hath neither year, nor 
summer, nor month, nor day, but an hour. Nay, Moses, to a thought, 
whereof there may be a hundred in an hour. This is none of the shortest 
comparisons, mane et vespere, the measure of one day. 

What then mean those ' greedy dogs ' in this prophecy, to bark so madly ? 
'Bring" more wine, for to-morrow shall be as to-day; yea, much more abimdant,' 
Isa. Ivi. 12. Methinks I hear the gallant epicures, the christened atheists of 
this city, knock thus in taverns for yet more wine, crowning the day with 
riots, and blessing the morrow with promised surfeits, as if the night should 
never come. Alas ! nescis quid serus vesper ferat, — thou knowest not what sad 
news the evening will bring. Thou braggest with Cajsar, the day is come ; 
we tell thee, as Caisar's friend, it is come indeed, and begun ; it is not ended. 
The lease of vanity is but a day, it may be not a moment ; the tenure of this • 
world is uncertain. 

' Medio de fonte leporum, surgit amari aliquid/ — 

From out of the midst of the fount of delicacies ariseth ever some bitterness. 
When you have spent your strengths, your estates, bloods, souls, upon vanity, 
all is but tinius diei hUaris insania, — the merry madness of a day ; which 
to buy with the eternity of insufi'erable torments is a dear purchase. If they 
be not short of content and satisfaction, I am sure they are of continuance. 
They do not always follow a man living, ever forsake him when he dies. 
lYon semper sequuntur vivcntcm, morienteni nunquam. 

[2.] You have measured the shortness of their day; hear the certainty of 
their night. ' The monihig conies, and,' without prevention, * night follows.' 
You shall shake off the yoke of Israel, but put on you the yoke of Persia. 
Tlic Edomites were long tributaries to Israel, according to Isaac's prophecy 
in the blessing of Esau: ' Thou .slialt be thy brother's servant; but it shall 



ISA. XXI. 11, 12.J THE gallant's BUEBEN. 313 

come to pass, when thou shalt get the mastery, thou shalt break liLs yoke 
from thy neck,' Gen. xxvii. iO. The proplict here a.s,sures them of this mxs- 
teiy. Israel rebels against God, therefore Edom against Israel. Isaac, as 
God's prophet, subjects Edom to Canaan, the seed of Esau to the seed of 
Jacob : intemperanti prcefecit sobrium* — he sets the sober man over the m- 
tempcrate ; and this service of the elder brother to the younger lasted in the 
posterity seven liundred years. Yet twice after, they shook off thia servi- 
tude : the first in Jorani's time, 2 Kings viii. 20, which liberty they made a 
troublesome shift to hold, till Ilyrcanus, who subdued them, and made them 
be circumcised-t This slavery they overcame again, and held it, even till 
Herod, the son of Antipater, an Idinna.>an born, obtained to be king of the 
Jews. Here Edom got the full masteiy. The first was this mornmg the 
prophet speaks of; this morning of freedom shall come, but last for a day, 
and then be overclouded with a night, a worse captivity, because to a worse 
people; qui Deum et misericordiam nesciunt, — that know neither God nor 
mercy : as those privations are inseparable, there is no mercy where no religion. 

Edom is but a particular instance of a general doom, which all the sous 
of Adam and daughters of Eve— I mean all the glories of this world— shall 
bear : as sure as the evening succeeds the morning, death shall seize upon 
life, judgment on sin. You have the sap of health in your bones, the riches 
of the world in your coffers, your life is in the noon of pride, but, we say, 
praise a fair day at night. Happy are they whose ' life is hid with Christ in 
God,' Col. iii. 3, that this night may not find i hem out ! Your sun shall 
set ; beauty, riches, glory shall decay. As by the inviolable law of nature, 
night succeeds day, so by the eternal law of God, death sin. If you could 
indent with the sun to stand still, as in the days of Joshua, Josh. x. 12, or 
to go back ten degrees, as to Hezckiah, or with his orb to move slowly, yet it 
shall set. Be the day never so long, yet at last comes evening-song. The 
Son of God himself, in this condition of mortal descent, was equ;il to his 
brethren. That great Sun of righteousness had his rising and his setting. 
We must all walk into the west, as well as he ; and be our day longer or 
shorter, night must come ; our privileges are not beyond others. 

Hear this, ye Edomites, that flout our presagings of a night : You speak 
of a night and hour of judgment — when comes it ? We tell you again, 
'The morning cometh, and also the night.' You have had a time of light 
and delight, and what your hearts could wish ; you sliaU have a tune of sor- 
row and darkness, your noon shall be turned to midnight. Tender and deli- 
cate Babylon, that boasted herself ' a queen, free from mourning,' Isa. xlvii. 
7, shall weep in the widowhood of her glory ; and hear at last, Advenil Jiiiis 
tuus, — Thy end is come. You that will not set your minds to these things, 
nor remember the latter end, miseries shall come <m you in their perfection, ver. 
9 ; so absolute as the justice of God and the malice of Satan can make them. 
So Solomon schools the artless, heartless, supine courses of vain youth : 
Eccles. xi. 9, ' Rejoice, O young man,' &,c. Ilcjoice in your day of pride, let 
pleasure rock you on her indulgent knee, you shall be brought to the night of 
judgment. Tlie surfeits f)f the old worid, the mirth of the Philistines, when 
Samson was their laughingstock, the carousings of that Chaldean monarch 
in the sacred bowls of Jerusalem, had their night. Solomon with his thou- 
sand wives and concubines, Bclshazzar with his thousand prin<vs, Aliasue- 
rus with his hundred and twenty-seven provhices, had tluir night. High- 
looked honour and pursy riches, the one cli.seased in hLs eyes, tlie other in his 
lungs, shall have their night. The favour of noble men is the favour of 
* AmbroB. f Josephus. 



314 THE gallant's bukden, [Sermon XIX. 

moveable men, — favor nohilium, favor mohilium ; the ignis fatuus of riches 
is long engendering, soon extinct. Let Joab and Job be our precedents in 
both these : the first was great and evil, the chiefest captain about David, 
yet by David designed to execution ; the second was great and good, yet, 
behold, the mightiest man of the east is poor to a proverb. What ever 
flourished and had not this night ? The rich churl enlarging his barns pro- 
portionably to his desires, had his night ; he heard that soul-knell, ' Thou 
fool, this night shall they fetch away thy soul.' The world itself shall have 
this evening : the morning was in the days of the patriarchs, Christ bore 
the heat and noon of the day, and we are those ' upon whom the latter ends 
of the world are come.' 'The world groweth old,' 2 Esd. xiv. 10, and we 
grow old with it. The bodies of men in old age wax cold, and want the heat 
of nature ; the souls of men in this decrepit age grow cold in zeal, — deficiente 
fervore cha7-itatis. The nourishment of old age turns into crudity, through 
want of heat to concoct, digest, and drive it into the veins ; the nourishment 
of our souls turns into vanitj^, because we want the heat of grace to digest 
it. By all these symptoms, you see the sun of this world ready to set, and 
the night drawing on , the declination of goodness, the fainting of religion, 
says that the world lies bedrid, drawing on, looldng for the good hour, (to 
some,) and fetching a thick, sick, and short breath. I am no prophet ; or 
what if I were, yet unable to define the time ; but this I conclude, though 
more particularly, from the rule of my text : We had our morning at the 
first preachmg of the gospel ; it now flourisheth with us, as at high noon : 
who shall say the evening will not follow, or our sun is mthout setting 1 

[3.] That it shall come, you hear : hear shortly the quality of it when it 
is come — a night. Misery is not fitlier shadowed than imder the name of 
a night : ' Sorrow lasts for a night,' says the Psalmist, ' but joy comes in the 
mornuig.' A sad, heavy, and discontented time, full of horror and amaze- 
ment ; when there is no object to -withdraw the eye, thereby to divert the 
mind from the thought and meditation of bitterness. Satan himself is not 
said to be bound with any other cliains but those of darkness ; as the joys 
of heaven are described by that eternal daylight of glory and sunshine of the 
Lamb, and it is added in express words, ' There shall be no night there,' Rev. 
xxi. 25. So the torments of hell are called by Christ cy.orog i^uirB^ov, ' outer 
darkness,' Matt. xxii. 13. No marvel if there ensue weieping and gnashing 
of teeth, when misery shall Idc extreme, and no day-hole of hope to atford one 
glimpse of comfort. This is that ' night of nights,' worse than the palpable 
darkness of Egypt, as full of intolerable horror as caliginous blackness. I 
find not only the time of judgment general, but of temporal and particular 
calamities, termed by the 'night of horror:' the downfall of Dumah, 'a 
night ;' the destruction of Israel, ' a season of blackness, darkness, clouds 
and obscurities,' Joel ii. 2. Therefore, as Christ to the Jews, ' Pray that your 
flight be not in the night ;' pray that your departure out of this life be not 
in the night of your security and ignorance ; and then fear not this night, 
for you are redeemed from the land of eternal darkness. 

It was the foohsh pride of that Roman emperor, having made a bridge of 
grappled ships over a narrow arm of the sea, and triumphing at midnight with 
innumerable torches, to boast that he had wrought two miracles — made the 
sea dry land, and the night day ;* but our emperor of heaven and earth did 

* Caligula, (in imitation of Xerxes, that passed his army over the strait of Helle- 
Bpont upon a wooden bridge,) upon ships moored together with cables and auehors, 
made a bridge of boards, with so much earth on it that it seemed firm ground, like one 
of the streets in Rome.— ^Dt'on. 



IsA. XXI. 11, 12.] TilU gallant's BURDEN. 31.> 

licrform it indeed, wlieii he dried up the red sea of his Father's wrath, and 
changed our present night of ignorance, and future of torment, into the eter- 
nal daylight of his grace and glory. 

[•!,] The last part of this survey is the inverting of this upon tlic righteous : 
where, behold the ditforent beginnhigs and ends of both holy and unholy. 
To the children of disobedience, the morning is before the evening ; and this 
is Duniah's woe at sunset, fiiisse felicem, — that she had her day. To the 
faithful, the evenmg is before the morning , as at the creation, ' The evening 
and the morning w^ere the first day,' Gen. i. The Jews were commanded to 
begin their feast of reconciliation at even ; and, ' From evening to evening 
shall you celebrate your sabbath,' Lev. xxiii. 32. It was Christ's comfort- 
able answer to Jiis church, intending the date when the profanation of the 
temple shoidd cease, to set the morning of their peace after the evening of 
their troubles, by a sweet and mystical allusion : Dan. viii. 1-1, 'Unto the 
evening and the morning, two thousand and three hundred ; then shall the 
sanctuary be cleansed ;' ' and the vision of the evening and morning is true,' 
ver. 2G. The evening of their sorrow precedes the morning of their joys. 
Our prophet so compares the tempest of the Assyrians' rage to a storm in the 
night, which vanisheth at the rising sun : Isa. xvii. 14, ' Lo, in the evening 
there is trouble, but before the morning it is gone.' Our night lasts during 
this wretched life : the troubles of miseries, storms of persecutions, and rage 
of that gi-eat le%dathan, distm-b our air, darken our day, and make it a 
gloomy night; clouds, tempests, obstacles, stumblingblocks, temptations, 
machinations of enemies, deceivings of friends ; — 

'Per varies casus, per tot discrimina rerum, 
Tendimus in ccclum ; ' — 

through so many dangers and difficulties sail we to our haven of peace ; our 
assurance is, that joy comes in the morning, when we shall rise in the east, 
and behold the sun of glory shine in our faces. The morning of the Edom- 
ites, atheists, reprobates, comes first smiling on their brows; but nox se- 
quitar, — they have a night behind. 

This disparity consists not only in the counterjiosition of thehr order, but 
in the circumstantial diflerence of their length and shortness. Our night is 
irksome, but short : compcnsatur acerhitas hrevitate, — what is ill in the 
bitterness is cased by the shortness. But our day is everlasting ; from new 
moon to new moon, from sabbath to sabbath, we shall praise the Lord. 
Myriads of years and ages shall be expired, and our sun as far from setting 
as at our first entrance ; for tune, and mortality, and distinction of age, shall 
cease : there is notliing but eternity above. It is not more l)lessed in being 
a day, than behig endless. Their jnorniug is short, their night everlasting, 
their debt never paid, their fire never quenched. Here is their unhai)piness : 
Jlorent ad tempus, ]>ereunl ui iitenium ; Jlarent falsis bonis, jiercunt veris 
tormentis, — they fiourish for a time, they perish for ever ; they fiourish witli 
false joys, perish with true and substantial torments. Things that are soonest 
bred have the shortest continuance ; a puff of wind r.-dseth the cliatf from the 
earth, and a pull' scatters it away ; the wicked are soon raised, ami with like 
speed dcpres.sed, Ps. Ixjciii. IS, 19. How quickly is Esim's posterity atlvanccd 
to a kingdom ! How innnaturely cast down ! The crown is scarce warm 
on their temples, their eyes have scarce taken a passing glance of their glories, 
but all is dispersed. The godly arc long kept under covert ; but when they 
do rise, their elevation is permanent. 

Lo, now cast a sober and iutelligent eye on this strange opposition, and 



31G THE gallant's uuhden. [Sermon XIX. 

let the very enemy of heaven and grace judge wlietlier tlic vain shadows of 
joy, and those for a day, liable to true and substantial torments, and those for 
ever, be comparable with, or desirable before, a momentary affliction, and 
that not without the best of comforts, followed with an excellent and eternal 
weight of glory. It is confessed ; I speak for you, I think your consciences 
are convinced. But uhi signa ? — where are the signs of it ] If this be so, 
and you so acknowledge it, why lead you so dissonant lives ? Shall the voice 
of your own tongues censure your own hearts, witness against you 1 Tacitus 
reports that in the civil wars betwixt Vitellius and Vespasian, a soldier had 
killed his oavu father, which was of the enemy's army ; no sooner was this 
published, but every man begins to abhor, condemn, execrate that war, the 
cause of such an unnatural fact : yet how little effect this wrought m their 
proceedings, that author describes ; for their rage, rapine, cruelty, was not 
lessened in spoiling neighbour, friend, kinsman, brother, father, when they 
had slain them. We abhor the miseries and sins incident to this life ; we 
love it still, nay, prefer it to heaven : our condemnation will be easy and 
just, what need is there of more witnesses 1 Ex ore tuo, — thy own lips have 
spoken against thee. For shame ; let our hearts and tongues be cut out of 
one piece, that what we aUow in opinion we may prosecute in practice. 

You hear how the day slips from us and the night steals on. No marvel 
if men sleep in the night ; but in the broad day, to shut our eyes with the 
dormouse is unnatural. There is a night when thou shalt rest, even ' on thy 
bed of peace,' Isa. Ivii. 2 ; only walk, work, loiter not, in thy day. Christ 
taught and observed the rule himself, to travel his day, and all his day ; 
' for the night comes, wherein no man can work.' There are things which if 
the night finds undone, we are undone, because we have not done them : if 
we defer to provide lodging, sustenance, safety, the night finds and leaves us 
destitute. How mad is he, that being bomad to some special designment, 
confined to his day, and then furthered with light, aid, company, and con- 
veniepcy of all things, spends one hour in catching flies, another after 
feathers, and all the rest in several toys and leasings, that on a sudden the 
sun sets, and his chief work is not done, nay, not begun ! 

The work of our day is the working up our salvation ; it is a special work. 
Heaven and our souls are upon it, and Ave have but our day to work it. 
Tempus vitce, te)npus jxenitentioi, — T'he time of life is the time of repentance. 
We spend one piece of our day in covetous scrapings, another in adoring 
that we have scraped ; some hours of our day in working vanity, and some 
in sleeping security ; instantly the night of death comes, and we have ne- 
glected the main chance : our salvation is not finished ; like courtiers, that 
having light to bring them to bed, play it out at cards, and go to bed dark- 
ling. Woe to them that go to their last rest thus ! How unworthy are we 
of a day, thus to spend it ! It is pity that ever the sun of grace shone on 
our faces ! Quake and fear, whatsoever thou art, to suffer the sin of thy 
soul and the end of thy life to come so near together. If men stumble in 
the dark, it is not strange ; to fall argues wilful neglect, or want of eyes. It 
is enough for those poor Romanists, that live under that Egyptian darkness 
of the Inquisition, to fall into grievous absurdities • but Avhere the sun shines, 
to see men fall in heaps is astonishing. Oh that every bait of drunkenness, 
object of covetousness, presented glance of vanity, should make us to wander 
and stumble, stumble and fall, fall and content ourselves therein without 
rising ! What would we, what will we do if our sun sets ? For shame ! cast 
away the deeds of darkness with the time : Eph. v. 14, ' Awake and stand up, 
the light of Jesus Christ ' shines on thy face; as men from sleep opening their 



ISA. XXL 11, 12.] THE gallant's BtTKDEN. 317 

eyes and seeing day broke, cast away their clothes, wherein they were wrajit 
warm, and start up to their several callings. The sins and vanities of thw 
world have kept us warm, and Caiaphas kept Peter, whiles we were folded 
in them ; but our main work lay dead for want of execution. Provide, then, 
for this night, thou whose cheek the sun of mercy and forbearance kisseth : 
* The sleep of him that travaileth is sweet, whether he eat little or much : 
but the satiety of the rich will not sutfer him to sleep,' Eccles. v. 12. If the 
day be well spent, the wearied bones rejoice in their earned repose, and the 
contented conscience applauds in the thought of her careful obedience : body 
and soul receive rest. WhUcs the day is slothfully spent, night brings no 
rejoiceful ease to either spirits or corpse. The day of thy life worn out into 
the well-disposed hours of a religious obedience, thy body shall rest in a per- 
fumed grave, and thy soul in the bosom of Abraham, when night comes ; 
but whiles pride, surfeits, oppressions, wantonness have shared the day, the 
night comes with no less suddenness than sorrow : thy rest shall be unrest, 
neither easier than smoke, and thorns, and liames, nor shorter than the eter- 
nity of all these can make it, Oh, then, what folly, madness, self-enmity is 
this, to play out our short day, and howl under the pressure of working tor- 
ments for an everlasting night ! 

(2.) We are come to the last fruit that I shall gather you from this tree, 
an4 it grows on three branches ; the whole body of it being ai)plied to the 
manner, not the matter of the question. The matter is first satisfied : ' The 
morning comes, and the night.' The manner is now touched : * If ye will 
ask, inquire; return, and come.' You ask in derision; keep the cloth, but 
reject the fashion. Ask still, but to repentance; let your demands manifest 
your desires of resolution. If ye will ask, and needs be acquainted with 
your sorrows, ' inquire ' ^dth humility, reverence, faith ; ' return ' from your 
sins by repentance ; and ' come ' home to God by obcLlience. Triplex ex ar- 
hore fructus, — here is a threefold fruit from this tree ; whereon let your souls 
feed, and then depart to refresh your bodies. 

Inriuire. — Wo must not look that God should seek us with his blessing, .is 
Elias was charged to run by the way of the wilderness in quest of H;izael, to 
anoint him, 1 Kings xix. 15. No; 'Seek ye the Lord while he may be 
found.' The rule of the prophet is just : the rich man conies not to the 
beggar's door with relief in his hand ; but the bcgi^'ar to his for it. There is 
small reason to expect from God that he should both give and seek. I conr 
fess he doth, as Christ testifies of himself, Luke xix. 10, ' I came to seek and 
to save that which was lost ; ' but withal he conveys into our hearts a pre- 
venting grace to seek him. Hence the condition is annexed to the grant, by 
the giver himself : ' Ask, and you shall have : ' inquire, and you shall be satis- 
fied. But if any will be ignorant, let them be ignorant still. 

If you ask me, first, Where you should inquire'? Our prophet directs 
you, ' To the law, to the testimony : where should a people inquire, but at 
their God?' Isa. viii. 20. Secondly, If how] With humility, reverence, 
and desire of knowledge. Inter juvenile judicium, et senile prajudiciuni, 
multa Veritas corrumpitur. There must be an equal avoiding of both rash- 
ness and prejudice. Young men apprehend not the necessities of knowledge, 
old men presume of a plerophory and abundance ; hence neither young nor 
old inquire. Thirdhj, If when \ The wise man an.swei-s, Inquire, .seek, ' Re- 
member thy Creator in the days of thy youth.' Pegin this search in the 
morning of thy years. Mane is the Lord's adverb, the devil's verb. The 
Lord saith. Early; the devil saith, Tarry: to whom you hearken, jiulge 
yourselves. One thing only, take heed you stay not too long. The devil is 



318 THE oallant's burden. [Sermon XIX. 

a false sexton, and sets the clock too slow, that the night comes ere we be 
aware. Tarry not, then, till your piles of usuries, heaps of deceits, moun- 
tains of blasphemies, have caused God to hide himself, and -will not be found. 
There is a so-a nimis hora, time too late, wliich Esau fell unluckily into, 
when ' he sought the blessing with tears, and could not find it.' It may be 
the statutes, or the guides, or thy owoi eyes, may be denied thee, and then 
too late thou inquirest. Whiles the book of God is not perused, his temples 
not frequented, nor his throne solicited by prayers, hard-heartedness steals on 
us, and, like Samson bound by the Philistines, we would break their bonds 
and cast their cords from us ; but our Delilah, our folly, hath beguiled us. 

Eetiirn. — Is this all 1 No ; there is a second fruit growing on this tree, 
of equal necessity, greater use. After inquiring, follows returning. You are 
gone wrong, return into the way of peace ; inquire it first, and having found 
it, return ; put your feet into it. God warns you by the revelation of his 
word, as the wise men by the vision of a dream. Matt. ii. 12, to ' return into 
your own country,' whither you would arrive, and where only is your rest, 
' another way.' If ever this exhortation was necessary for Edom, let me think 
it fitter for England. As smful as we are, let me yet say, there is more hope of 
our repentance than of Edom's. Our iniquities are as great, our instructions 
greater than theirs ; what remains, but our repentance ? Never more need. 
Our sins are not low, slow, few, or slightly done ; negligence sins, security 
sins, contempt sins, presumption and hard-heartedness sins. Here is the 
scorner's chair, the drunkard's bench, the idle man's cushion, the usurer's 
study. Oh, where is repentance to rouse these ? God is angry ; we have 
been smitten, not in the skirts and suburbs of our commonwealth : our city, 
body, and whole unity hath been pierced to the soul. ' The whole head 
hath been sick, and whole heart heavy.' Where is the physic of repent- 
ance 1 I can shew you many actors, presenting themselves on the theatre 
of this world; I see not repentance play her part. I can point you to 
■usur}= — robbing, grinding, sucldng blood, cutting throats, whiles he sits in 
the chimney-corner, and hears of his zanies, whelps, underhng-thieves end- 
ing their days at the gallows. I can shew you covetou&ness — swearing 
for gain, crouching, ramping, playing ape, lion, or de\il for money. I 
can discover to you drunkenness rising early to the wine ; malice making 
haste to the death of Amnon ; ambition running after honour, faster 
than Peter to the sepulchre; pride whirling in her chariot, wantonness 
shutting up the windows ; bribery creeping in at the key-hole, even when 
the door of justice is locked up against her. Among all these I see not 
repentance. Doth she stay till the last act ? I fear the tragedy of many 
souls will be done first. This land is full of sins,— let me speak im- 
partially,— this city. As many lines meet at the centre, so all sins by a 
general confluence to this place. Glomerantur in unum innumerw pestes 
Erehi, — The mischiefs of hell are swarmed to one crowd, and we have it. I 
know there are some ' names in Sardis,' some that make conscience of their 
ways ; the same air is drawn by men of as contrary disposition as is the 
opposition of the two poles : that I may say of tlie lives of this city, as one 
doth of Origen's writings, Uhi hene, nemo melius ; uhi male, nemo pejus, — 
Those that are good arc exceeding good, and those that are evil are un- 
measurably evil ; nothing was ever so unhke itself. You are as contrary as 
fire to water ; but all the water of the one's devotion will not quench the 
fire of the other's wickedness. This latter is so monstrously grown on us 
with the times, tliat it is all if the idolatry of Home, or the atheism of Tur- 
key, can go beyond it. They are rare hearts that care not more to seem, 



laA. XXI. 11, 12.] THE gallant's burden. 319 

tlian to be holy, if perliaps they will either seem or be ; rare hands that are 
free and clean from either blood or filthiness ; rare toni^ues that do not vie 
oaths with words, making scotFs, scorns, tlatteries, vain speeches, the j^reater 
l)art of their tongues' exercise, that if their words could be weighed, their 
prayers of a year are not so substantial and ponderous :us their oaths of ono 
day. It were no wonder to see these abominations in Dumali, Egypt, IJaby- 
lon ; to find them in England is matter of amazement. It was an a!dmiralde 
and astonishing speech, (the prophet himself thought, by his advertisement 
prefixed,) ' The virgin Israel hatli done filthily,' Jer. x\-iii. l.'J. If harlots and 
brothels be unchaste, they do not degenerate from their kind ; in so pure a 
virgin, no imagination would have dreamed it. It is no news to find the 
devil in hell ; to have him thrust into paradise, tempting and [)revailing with 
our first parents, is horrible. Let Rome and Turkey swell with the lioisoua 
of Satan till they burst, who wonders ? To find the sputterings of liis venom 
in the church is grievous. If we be accused for accusing of sins, let the 
physician be blamed for discovering diseases in the sick body : we must 
speak. Oh, yet, si nostra sperem prcce posse movcri, that we could hoi)e with 
any sayings to move you 1 If the worst come, I can but speed as others be- 
fore me. Be there not usurers that say to the gold in secret, Thou art my 
confidence 1 Populus me sihiJat, at mild plaiulo ipse domi, — The world 
hisseth at me, but I hug and applaud my own soul, and fat my spirits in the 
sight of my bags. Is there never a broker to comfort himself, in the dis- 
tress of his conscience, with, ' Usury is no sin, many learned men are of this 
opinion.' But I ask him if his conscience can be so satisfied ; would he not 
willingly give one hundred-pound bag to be secured in this point ? Sure it 
is, at the least, not safe wading far in a cpiestionable water ; if it could be 
safe to some, yet how many have been drowned in this whirlpool 1 I con- 
fess that flesh and blood puts the bladders of wealth and promotion undei: 
their arm-holes, and the dev\[ holds them up by the chin, till they come to 
the deepest, and then, as the priests served Judas, they bid them shift for 
themselves ; and wanting the help of repentance to swim, down they sink 
in profundum inferni, to the bottomless bottom of hell. These two are not 
unfitly compared to two millstones : the usurer is the nether stone, that lies 
still ; he sits at home in his warm furs, and spends his time in a devilish 
arithmetic, in numeration of hours, days, and moneys, in sul>traction from 
others' estates, and multiplication of his own, till they have divided the 
earth to themselves, and themselves to hell ; the In-oker runs nmnd like the 
upper millstone, and betwixt l)otli these the poor is gTinded to powder. 

Usury, you say, is exploded among saints. I would you would deal no 
worse with covetousness. But, alas ! this is too general a fault, and without 
any hope of amendment. He that railed on Beelzebub pulled all Ekrou 
about his ears; he that .slighted Melchom provoked the Ammonites; liut 
he that condemns ]\Iammon speaks against all the world. Tiiis is the delight, 
the love, the .solace of many, the god of some. Poverty, sickness, age, arc 
all the dcvUs they tremble at, and I'elial, Melchom, Mammon, ]tlea.sure.s, 
honours, riches, all the gods they worship. These three usurping kings, like 
the three seditious captains in Jcnisalem, or those three lloman tyrant.s, 
Cae.sar, Cras.sus, and romi)ey, have shared the world amongst them, and left 
God least, who owns all. Lactantius speaks of one Tullus Hostilins, that 
put Fear and Paleness into the number of gods. It is pity that ever his god.s 
should go from him. It is, not pity, but ju.sticc, that these gods, and the 
true God ton, should forsake such reprobates, that give the honour to crea- 
tures wherewith they should Wursh ip the Creator. But, alas ! how is Pharai ih's 



320 THE gallant's bukden. [Sehmon XIX. 

dream verified among us : ' The lean kine eat up the fat ! ' God's lean bless- 
ings, riches and pleasures, devour his fat ones, grace and religion. How- 
dishonours it God, disparageth ourselves and our creation, to put lead in a 
cabinet of gold, base desires in a fair and precious soul ! We never yet 
attained the top of Mount Seir. He that stands on the tower of divine 
meditation will judge those pigmies, which below he thought giants ; but we 
desire not heaven, because we know it not ; we never look beyond our hori- 
zon ; we live in our contented slavery of Egypt, and never dream of the free- 
dom of Canaan. Uhi amor, ibi oculus, — Where the love is, there is the eye. 
This St Augustine shortly and soundly reproves : Si sursum os, cur deorsum 
cor 1 — Hath nature given us an upright face and a grovelling heart 1 This 
is a preposterous dissimilitude of the mind and countenance. Do but com- 
pare, as lifting ujj thy soul with thy eyes, heaven with earth, and thou wilt 
change thy opinion. Through want of these meditations, these earthly 
vanities carry away our enchanted hearts to neglect those better things of 
our eternal peace ; and by the testimony of our Saviour, ' It is hard for a rich 
man to get into heaven.' The proverb saith, There is no earthly gate but 
an ass laden with gold can enter ; and this only lading hinders our entering 
the gates of gloiy. A wealthy and great man, served up to God's table in 
his kingdom, is as rare as venison at our boards on earth : there are some- 
times such services, not often. 

Is this all % No ; Yidi ehriosorum sitim, et vomentimn fameni, — I have 
seen drunkenness reeling from tavern to tavern, and, not seldom, from thence 
to his stews. It was the sin, nay, the shame of beggars ; it is now the glory, 
the pride of gallants. They should daily be transformed to the image of 
God ; they come nearer to beasts, let me say, to devils ; for St Bernard saith, 
Ehrietas est manifestissimus dcemon, — Drunkenness is a most manifest devil. 
They that are possessed with Satan, or with drunkenness, fell alike into the 
fire, into the water ; they gnash alike, alike they foam ; and as all the dis- 
ciples could not cast out that one sort of devils, so nor all the preachers 
this, Matt. xvii. 16, 21. 

Gluttony is not much less general, no less evil. Drunkenness makes a 
man so giddy he cannot stand, and gluttony so pursy that he cannot go. 
That old verse and rule is forgotten in our feasts — 

' Too soon, too fine, too daintily, 
Too fast, too much, is gluttony.' 

There is an appetite natural ; when the stomach can extract no more juice 
from meats received, it covets more. There is an appetite sensual ; when 
the rich says, ' My soul, eat,' not my body. Nay, are not some in this city 
like those Horace speaks of? When their estate can reach but to herrings, 
they long for fresh salmon. We desire the strength of bodies and the length 
of clays ; our full dishes forbid it. If ever that verse w^as true, now is the 
time — 

' Non plurea gladio, quam cecidere gula ; ' — 

' The enemy's sword kills not more than their own throat.' 

Swcarhig and whoredom I will join together, as most sins go by couples: 
so the prophet, * The laud is fall of adulterers, and for oaths the land mourn- 
eth.' Add unto swearing the twin-born brother of it, cursing; a sin tliat 
makes God (the summiun honum) tlie base executioner of our revenge. How 
strange, when men grieve us, to turn our teen upon God, and rend him to 
pieces ! Blasphemers against mortal princes are killed with the sword, and 
all their estates confiscate ; against the Prince of heaven it is not regarded. 



IsA. XXI. 11, 12.] THE gallant's BURDEN. 321 

I must not forget my Edomitc, the gallant. If you would see an impos- 
tliume, contiate and swollen up with all these and rank corruptions, all the 
former mischiefs reconciling themselves to a Avretchcd unity in one soul ; a 
pack and bundle of sins, snatched from their several owners, — envy from the 
malicious, haughtiness from the proud, derision from the scorner, tire, — and 
engrossed to one heart; an emblem, a pageant, a conuuentary of all the 
(levil's proceedings; a map of his walks, plots, and actions; — behold the 
profone Edomite ! I tax not the generous si)irit whose birth and accoiitre- 
mcnts are worthy and high, his mind humljle. Oh, how comely are good 
clothes to a good soul, when the grace within shall beautify the attire with- 
out; and not gay rags impudently bear our wicked actions ! Far l)e it from 
mc to think these Edomites, or any other thing than the diamonds that grace 
our ring. No, they are the gallant Esauites, the proftuie roystcrs, to whom 
I speak, and that from a text of repentance ; desiring from my soul that 
they may scape the burden of Dumah, by rejecting the manners, and make 
more account of their birthright than seU it for messes of pottage, lusts, and 
vanities. But if they will note themselves ■with the coal and brand of pro- 
faneness, they must not look to escape our censures. "We cannot hear their 
oaths, beating the invulnerable breast of heaven; nor see their pride, 'testify- 
ing to then- face,' Hos. vii. 10, if they shoiUd plead innocence; nor be un- 
willingly conscious of thou- atheistical jests, libertine feasts, worse than Pag.iu 
adulteries, and charm our tongues with sUence, when the glory of our God, 
the price of their redemption, and the danger of their own souls, lie at the 
stake. 

There are other open, and infinite secret sins, wliich they think no eyq 
sees. But they arc Avitnesscs, the angels good and bad, the conscience of the 
connnitters, and the Judge of the conscience: Si nemo, iion iameii uulhrs, — 
If no man, yet not none. Therefore what thou darest not to do, thy fellow- 
servant looking on thee, that dare not to think, thy heavenly ^Master looking 
in thee : Quod non audes facere, aspiciente conseri'o: hoc ne cogiles, Inspicienie 
Deo. I confess, we have a face of religion and looks of profession, makuig 
toward Jerusalem; but how many make the noble livery of our ^Master a 
shelter to these abhorred corruptions ! And, till the trial comes, it is not known 
Avhom many serve. A man that follows two gentlemen is not discerned 
which to serve till they part company : so long as wealth and religion go 
together, it is not apparent to which of them most adhere, till the cross parts 
them, and then it is plain and easy. 

"Were these the sms of Edom, and are they not the sins of England i The 
sins, said I ? Nay, the gods of luigland ! For the usurer adores liis metals, 
the epicure his junkets, the drunkard his gallons, the voluptuous his lusts, 
the adulterer liis harlots, the proud and gallant Edomite his gay clothes and 
studied carriage : and as the IsraoJitcs cried to their calf made of golden 
ear-rings, ' These are thy gods, O Israel !' Ivxod. xxxii. i ; so we may si>cak it 
with horror and amazement of these foolish, bestial, devilish sms, * These are 
thy gods, England !' "WVak, wretched, unhel[>ful gods ! For .shame ! 
AVhat, where are we ? Could Edom ever be worse I Have we devoured so 
many years of peace, ease, plenty, and saturity (if I may so call it) of (iod's 
word, and are we still so lame, lean, and ill-favoured in our lives ? Wjiat 
shall I say I Ilath the sweet gospel, and the sober preaching of it, made us 
sensual, senseless, impudent, frantic, as the nature of that country is wonder- 
ful, if true, that rain causcth dust, and drought dirt ? "' Have the sweet 
dews of Ilermon made the hill of Zion more barren ? Hath the sun of plenty, 
* ' Siccitxs dat lutuui, imbrcs pulvcrcu.'— /Vi)». 
VOL. I. X 



322 THE gallant's burden. [Sermon XIX. 

from the filth of security, bred monsters of sins 1 Have God's mercies made 
us worse ? What shall I say 1 

Fathers and brethren, help. Pity the miscaiTying souls that have no 
mercy on themselves. Our words are thought air; let your hands compel 
them to the sendee of God. The word of information hath done his best; 
where is the rod of reformation 1 Let IMoses's rod second Aaron's word. 
The loves of sinners, the strength of sins, nay, principalities and powers, are 
at^ainst us, and we come armed with a few leaves of paper. The keenest 
sword is with us, but it is in our lips only, ' the sword of the Spirit ;' and 
thou'di it can 'divide the marrow and the bones' of an awaked conscience, 
alas Tit moves not the stony hearts. It shall sooner double upon ourselves 
than enter such mailed consciences. Our blows are filliped back in con- 
tempt. Be not wanting, ye that have the ordinance of God. You are his 
sm-rof'-ates, and the preachers' hopes. Good laws are made ; the life-blood of 
them is the execution. The law is else a wooden dagger in a fair sheath, 
when those that have the charge imposed, ancl the sword in their hands, 
stand like the picture of St George, with his hand up, but never striking. 
We complain not of the higher magistrates, from the benches of whose judg- 
ment impiety departs not without disgrace, without strokes. The blame 
lies on inferior officers, who think their office well discharged if they threaten 
offenders : these see, and will not see. Hence beggars laze themselves in the 
fields of idleness; hence taverns and tap-houses swarm with unthrifts, of 
whom, whether they put more sin into their bellies, or vomit more forth, is 
a hard question; I mean, whether their oaths or ebrieties exceed. Hence we 
look to have vagrants suppressed, idleness whipped, drunkenness spoke 
withal; but the execution proves too often like the judges' feast — the guests 
set, the tables furnished, meat in the dishes, wine in flagons; but putting 
forth their hands to take them, they apprehend nothing but air. 

The medicine to heal all this, both for patient and physician, is repentance ; 
not. a jaculatory cry of 'Lord, forgive me!' nor the flash of a melancholy 
passion, but a sound, serious, and substantial repentance. Konie hath a 
holy water, of virtue, they say, to purge and wash away all her spots; Eng- 
land hath her holy water too, which too many trust in for sufficient. We 
look up and cry, 'Lord, have mercy!' and wipe our lips, as if we had not 
sinned ; yet by and by to our former vomit. But the repentance that resolves 
for heaven throws away all impediments : if gold, if pleasure, if a throne 
were in the way, she would fling them aside ; she hath an eye bent on tlie 
mercy-seat, and a foot that runs straight to it; she turns i)ot into Samaria, 
because she is oftered lodging there ; nor in the court of Egypt, to be called 
the son of Pharaoh's daughter; the pleasures of Babylon stay her not, the 
good-fellows of Sodom make her not look back; she forgets what is behind, 
and never rests, like the kine that carried the ark, till she come to the fields 
of Bcthshemesh, the harvest of grace and goodness, nor ccaseth lowing with 
sorrow till she bo sped of the mercies of God. She hath felt the weight of 
sin and sorrow, and abhors the cause of them both ; she hateth not the devil 
worse than her former iniquities, and, if it were possible, she would never 
more offend. Tins is to return; what you want of this, you come short of 
repentance. 

Come. — The third degree follows to make up om- perfection. If returning 
might serve, as labour of but indifferent trouble, we could afford it; but we 
must come. You have licard the whence; hear the tvJdlher. Thou hast not 
done with inquiring, with returning : ' Up and eat, Elias, thou hast a greater 
journey to go.' Streng-theu thy heart, Christian, restat tibi teriia meta, — 



ISA. XXI. 11, 12.] THE gallant's BURDEN. •^^23 

thou hast a third mark to aim at ! Cr>7ne home to tliy ( iod l>y a i ha.st(^ and 
lioly life. It is not current pay with God to part with our vanities, execiit 
wc embrace a religioiLS conversation. Paul makes it as necessary ;i part of 
Christianity to 'put on the new man,' as to 'put off the old.' It Ls not 
enough to cease doing evil, but it is damnable not to do well : * Ho that 
gathers not with Christ, scattereth.' It was the threatening doom in Jnhn 
Baptist's sermon, not to the barren, but to the evil-fniited tree.* Christ's 
speech carries the same sense and force against the Pharisees, though : ' 
to his disciples : ' Except your riuhtcousness,' &c. Ho says not, ' i 
your unrighteousness be less than theirs,' but, ' Except your righteousi.- ., ... 
more,' exceed, ' you shall not see heaven.' He that inquires the way to heaven, 
and turns toward it, hath passed two degrees of my text and his own pilgrim- 
age ; but he gets little of cither praise or comfort except he come home to it. 
There is extreme wrong, extreme right, and mercy. Sumvia injuria, sumvuaa 
y«-s, et misenconlia. The two first shall be shut out of heaven; the liust 
only hath a promise of entrance. ' Judgment without mercy shall be to 
him that shews no mercy,' James ii. 13 ; not to the cruel only, but to him 
that is but merely just : the want of ju.stice is not only damned, Init. the 
want of mercy : the rich churl went to hell for not relieving Lazarus, though 
he wronged him not. If the usurer part with his extortions, the wanton 
with his minions, the cheater with his frauds, the tradesman with his oaths, 
he thinks himself by this time a high Christian, and that God must needs 
bless him, he is so repentant. If the long persuasions of many sermons can 
work this on us, that we abate of our former outrageous licentiousness, we 
strait sponge up ourselves j and with a conceit that we have done much for 
God, outface all reproofs : but ' he that hath much forgiven him loves much.' 
The prodigal docs not only turn from his harlots and vices, but comes home 
to his father's house. There was no stint in that sinful woman's penitence, 
till she had poured floods of tears on the feet of our Saviour. The conscience 
of Zaccheus was not disburdened by ceasing his extortion, but by restitution 
to the wronged, commiseration to the distressed, even to one hidf of his 
goods. And these are the commended penitents. 

How sorts our practice with this doctrine % Shew me a sacrilegious patron, 
a pirate of the church, that, if his hand cease from spoiling God of his tithes, 
yet will repair the breaches his rapine hath made : shew me a brilie-guilty 
officer seek out wnth wet eyes, and reward with a full hand, the wronged 
suitors: how many are more ciiiel-hcarted than Judas, that neither on 're- 
pentance nor despair will bring l.iack the price of the poor's blood, which 
they have sucked ! Behold the earthly churl, to make liis son a gentleman, 
prostituteth his honesty, conscience, soul, and ' forsaketh his own mercy,' (as 
the proverb is, vile, if ever true, Happy is the son whose father goes to the 
devil !) After he hath mowed com, or fatted his ox, on the very place iM 
Trojafuit, where the towTi stood ; nay, kenneled his dogs within the walls of 
his sanctuary ;t and turned the hall (jf charity into the ])arlour of pride ; his 
body sinks to the grave, and (it is to be feared) his soul to hell, being rung 
thither with the peals of bells and curses. The better-instructed heir, (to omit 
those that exceed the tyranny of their fathers,) seeing and/letestiug his dead 
father's deader courses, withdraws his hand from extortion, from depopidor 
tion ; but what reasons can make him a restorer ?J It is enough, he think.; 
to cease wronging. But, ' Curse ye [Meroz, saith tlie angel of the Lord, cur.so 

* The opposite is what the author meant to say: not to the ovilfruitetl, 1)tit to the 
barren, or not-good-fruited trec.^lin. 

t Non jgnota cano. X Quia talia famlo tcmporct ii lacUrymifl T 



324 THE gallant's burden. [Sermon XIX. 

the inhabitants thereof, because they came not forth to help the Lord in the 
day of battle,' Judges v. 23. Did they fight against God ? No, they helped 
hun not. The servant was condemned for claiming his own debt, ]\Iatt. xviii. 
The prayers and fostmgs of the Jews were despised for claiming their ovm 
debts, Isa. Iviii. 3, and standuig upon sacrifice with men^ whiles they would 
have mercy with God. Nehemiah threatened the same people with a stricter 
taxation, chap. v. : They must restore the extorted lands and houses of their 
brethren ; nay, remit some part of the debt, or they were cursed with that 
feaiful sacrament, the shaking of the lap of his garment, so to be shaken out 
of Israel, all the congregation ciying. Amen. And, lastly, beyond all ex- 
ception, the manner of the Lamb's coming to judgment testifies as much. 
' Go, ye cursed.' For what cause ? Because ye denied the labourer his hire, 
or took bread from the hungry? ikc. No, these are crymg sins, and 'hasten 
before unto judgment :' but ' You gave them not,' therefore, Ite maledicti, — 
Go, ye cursed. So ' Come, ye blessed.' What, because ye dealt justly, and 
gave every man his due ? No, these virtues may be in mortal men that 
want faith and Christianity : but ' You f/ave them your own bread when they 
were hungry; and clad them, being naked, with your own clothes;' there- 
fore, ' Come, ye blessed.' 

What use you will make of this I know not ; what use you should make 
I know. If the tree without good fruit shall be burned, what shall become 
of the tree that hath evil '? If barrenness be cast into the fire, what doth 
rapine and robbery deserve 1 If it be damnation enough to deny our own 
bread, what is it to take away the only loaf, coat, or cottage of our poor 
brother ? Woe to the back that wears the garment, to the belly that devours 
the food, they never sweat for ! I mean that by force or fraud took them 
from the owners. If Nabal and Dives burn for not giving their own, what 
shall become of Ahab and Jezebel for taking away the vineyard of Naboth 1 
1 Pet. iv. 18, ' If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly 
and the sinner appear'?' 

Now if after this physic given, I should ask many how they feel the pulses 
of their consciences beat ? I presume on this reply : Notum loqueris, — You 
biit gild gold, and minister to us such physic as we have taken before. All 
this we know ; and we do not evermore ply your understandings with new 
things ; but lay old, almost dead and forgotten, afresh to the conscience. I 
ask further, how much of this have you practised 1 and stiU look for an affir- 
mative answer, ' All this have I kept from my youth.' 

Let us reason and discuss this matter a little. To inquire, is hearuig, or 
rather hearkening to the Avord : to return, is repenting ; to come, is believing, 
or rather looking more towards perfection, proceeding into the ripeness of 
faith. This latter is so necessary, that we cannot come to God with his 
acceptance or our comfort if Ave leave our faith behind us ; Avithout tliis, 
' impos.sible is it to please him,' to be ' rewarded of him.' This is our char- 
ter whereby Ave hold all our privileges, our title in capite to earth and 
heaven; but, suhjadice lis est, the great Judge of heaven shall one day cen- 
sure it : meantime, give me leave to help thee peruse this evidence of thy 
faith, Avhcreon thou so prosumest, Christ dying, made a Avill, sealed it Avith 
his OAvn blood, Avhercin he bequeathed a certain inheritance to his brethren : 
the couA'cyance is the gospel, this his testament ; the executor of this Avill 
is the Holy Ghost ; our tenure and evidence is our faith. Noav, thou layest 
title to Jerusalem, for a child's part. What is thy title ? In Christ's name and 
right. What conveyance did Christ ever make thee of such a portion 1 Yes, 
ho conveyed it to me by Avill. What, by special name ? No, but by a 



IsA. XXI, 11, 12.] THE gallant's buudex. 325 

general title to all believers. That I am one of these, here is my evidence — 
my faith. Let God alone try thy faitli ; if thou comcst to mo for counsel, 
jaith St James, thou must shew another evidence : ' Shew me thy f;uth by 
thy works.' 

If thy heart bo corrupt, tliy hands fdthy, thy tongue false, thy evidence is 
but counterfeit ; Christ gives no title of inheritance in heaven to such as 
have no holiness on earth : 1 Cor. vi. 9, ' Know ye not that the unrighteou.s 
shall not inherit the kingdom of God ? lie not deceived : neither fornicators,' 
A:c. llcv. xxi. 27, ' And there .shall enter into it no unclean thing, nor :uiy- 
thiug that worketh abomination or lies.' l\'rha[)S thou wilt not .staml upnii 
it { produce thy witnesses ; they arc only two — thy life, thy conscience. They 
cannot speak with thee, against their ^Maker and thine. Thy life speaks loud 
and plain : thy pride, drunkennes.s, oppression, cozenage, lusts, bhusphemies, 
manifest thou hast but a broken title; and Paul pleads against thee, frmii 
this clear advantage : Tit. iii. 8, ' Protest to them that believe in God, that 
they be careful to shew forth good works.' They that have the evidence of 
faith, must have the witness of works. It is a poor deed without witnesses. 
Thy conscience speaks plainly too, that thy faith is but a carnal persuasion, 
bred of security; a forged evidence, made by a false scrivener, the devU, to 
deceive thine own eyes and the world's, not God's. Now, where is thy 
claim ? Stand upon good assurance, lest when that subtle winnower, Satan, 
comes to sift thee gi-ain after grain, thou provest chatl'. We may come with 
this carnal persuasion, little better than reprobate hope, to the temples, to 
the pulpits, to the sacraments ; but if we come so to the tribunal of Christ, 
woe unto us ! The too much trusthig to a verbal, lean, sick, starved faith, 
deceives many a soul. Whiles we covet to be solifidians in opinion, we prove 
nullifidians in practice. No matter for wisdom in the sold, grace in the con- 
science, honesty in the life, if the profession of faith be in the tongue ; but 
the poor may say as he in the comedy, Ocidalce mihi sunt i/ian/is ; rmbnii 
quod vident, — My hands have eyes, and they believe what they see. ^Vo 
carry the forms and outsides of Christians, and thuik Ciod beliolden to us 
for gracing his material, earthly temples, when in tlie temples of our own 
hearts Ave set up the idols of our own affections ; yet are these the temples 
wherein he is best pleased to dwell. But if we be come to God by faith, lie is 
also come to us by grace : ' The Spirit of Christ is in us, if we be not repro- 
bates,' 2 Cor. xiii. 5. And ' if tliis Si)irit be in lis, the body of sin is dead,' 
llom. viii. 9, 10 ; at least hath his death-wound. i5ut, alas, in how many 
of us doth sin live, dwell, — I would I might stay there, — nay, even reign ! 
As if Christ had come to destroy the devil, and not the works of the devil ; 
to free us from the damnation, and not the dominion of sin. But he that 
took from sin the power to condemn us, took also from it the power to reign 
in our mortal bodies. And the second is but a con.se(|uent of the first, post- 
scribed with that word of inference, ' Now then,' Arc, Horn. vii. 2'), viii. 1 . 
Thus Christ came not only to bind the devil, but to ' loose and dissolve his 
works,' 1 Jolm iii. 8, 

I have read and observed in the history of Scotland, a certain controversy 
betwixt that kingdom and Ireland, for a little i.sland that lay between them ; 
either claims it as their due, and the strife growing hot, was falling from 
words to ])lows. But reason moderated both kinds, and they i)ut it to tlie 
decision of a Frenchman, who tlius judged it : he caused living .serpents to 
be put into that island ; if they lived and thrived there, he judged it Scot- 
land's ; if they pined and died, he gave it for Ireland. Vou can apply it 
easily. If the venomous serpents, i)oLjons, and corruptions of our nature bat- 



326 THE gallant's burden. [Sermon XIX. 

ten and thrive in us, we are Satan's ; if tliey languisli and consume, we are 
God's. Thus is the title ended for the freehold of our souls, by which sure 
rule we may know whether they belong to hell or heaven. If our hearts be 
unstabled of these bestial lusts, and trimmed up with sanctimony to enter- 
tain our holy guest, there shall be a reciprocal and interchangeable coming 
of us to Christ, and Christ to us ; and we shall as surely ' sup with him ' in 
his court of glory, as he hath ' supped with us ' in our house of obedience, 
Ptev. iii. 20. 

Let us only fear lest our want of repentance hinder this. I should have 
erst observed it as a material instruction from this place ; I could not find a 
iitter time to insert it than here, to draw your coming with more alacrity. 
There is a reservation to repentance, even to abhorred Edom ; let the sons 
of the profanest Esau repent, and they shall not be forsaken of mercy. ' Re- 
turn aud come,' and your night threatened shall be made a joyful morning. 
Though it had as certain and defined a time as ever had Jonah's doom against 
Nmeveh, the set bounds of forty days, with a non ultra ; yet be you humbled, 
and tins judgment shall be dispensed with. If there be such mercy to 
Edom, let me say boldly, repenting Israel shall not fail of it ; the night shall 
linger, and the sun be kept from setting, if we will return in our day. The 
threatcnings of God have a condition included : that general, that promised, 
that never-refused interposition of repentance. As absolute as the speech 
might seem to Abimelech, withholding Abraham's wife, ' Thou art but a dead 
man ;' yet it bad but an implicit condition, * except thou restore her imde- 
filcd,' as appears by the sequel. It is a common fountain whereat every 
repentant soul may drink, ' at what time soever, what sinner soever, repents 
of what sin soeyer,' &c. And if yet any feel themselves thirsty, weak, and 
not thoroughly resolved, let him for ever confute the distrust of his own heart, 
the malice of Satan, the present difficulties, with that of Jeremiah, where in 
express words our repentance is said to make God repent, even of his threat- 
ened and intended plagues. 

God hath threatened to all sinners a night of sorrow, and it shall as surely 
come as ever evening succeeded day ; but there is an exceipt, that shall save 
us, a seasonable and substantial repentance : if we turn from those winding 
labyrinths of sin, and come home to God, he will save us from this night, 
that we perish not. There is no coming to God but in and by Jesus Christ ; 
through his Son must God look at us, and wc at him, that he may be merci- 
ful, we hopeful. 

Come then, beloved, to Jesus Christ ; behold him with the eyes of faith, 
standing on the Ijattlemcnts of heaven, and wafting you to him : come freely, 
come merrily, come with speed ; come betimes, lest Avhen you would, you 
camiot for want of direction, dare not for want of acquaintance with him. 
He that comes not till the last gasp of extremity, knows not how to come, be- 
cause he begins but then. How prone are our feet to forbidden paths ! The 
flesh calls, we come ; vanity calls, we flock ; the world calls, we fly : let 
Christ call early and late, and either we not come, or unwillingly, or late, or 
with no purpose to stay. How justly may he take up that complauit agauist 
us, as against the Jews : After all my promises, assurances, real performances 
of mercies, 'you will not come unto me that you might have life !' John v. 
40. Perhaps, when we are weary of sin and sin of us, then let God take us ; 
but he will none of the devil's leavings. Some would come but for some 
impediments ; that other child's portion to be made up, such a house to be 
buildcd, such a ground to be purchased. This same hut mai's their coming, 



ISA. XXI. 11, 12.] THE gallant's BURDEN. .327 

as he ill the gospel, hut for burjing his father ; and that other, hut for bidding 
his friends farewell : so, hut for ]\Iaminon, and that wc cannot be rich with a 
good conscience ; hul for pleasures, that we cannot be wanton, yet nouri.sh 
the hope of salvation. But for these veruntamens, hutu, they would cunie, std 
vix sunt vuii, qui came renisl. Wc have all one hut, one exception or other, 
to keep us from Christ ; yet Paul counts all these but dross, but dung. iVnd 
if anything seem fairer in thine eye than Christ, detur dl<jnloii, give thy soul 
to the worthier. We can extremely atiect no earthly thing, but the devil, at 
one time or other, will bring it into opposition with Christ, as the moon and 
the sun, to see which of them shall be eclipsed. Alas, how ordinary, yet 
how vile, is it postponere Christum hovihus, qui nos aquavit angdis, — to set 
Christ after oxen, that hath made us equal to the angels ! Yet all those 
friends whom we so trust shall soonest fail us, and at our most need run 
from us, as vermin from a house on fire. Give me leave to shew you this 
indignity offered to Christ by a metaphor ; familiar comparisons give the 
quickest touch to both midcrstanding and conscience. 

A certain gaUant had three friends : two of them iiattered him in his loose 
humours, if in this I may not rather call them enemies; the third lovingly 
dissuaded him from his follies. On the two flatterers he spent his jiatri- 
mony ; the third he casts off with contempt. His riot and wealth gone, Ids 
friends went too, for they were friends to the riches, not to the rich man. 
Debt was required, he an'ested, arid the prison not to be avoided. In this 
calamity he studies refuge ; hence he betluuks himself of his two friends, of 
whom lie desires relief. The first's answer is cold and short, ' AIjis ! I cannot 
spare it, you should have prevented this erst.' The other speaks a little more 
comfort, ' I have no money to help you, yet I wUl bear you company to the 
prison door, and there leave you.' The distressed man finds small satisfac- 
tion in all this ; therefore, as his last refuge, he calls to mind his third friend, 
w^hom he had ever scorned, wronged; and, after much wrestluig betwixt 
shame and necessity, he sends to him with no less earnestness than humility, 
discovers his exigents, requires help. The message scarce delivered, he comes 
with speed, pays the debt, sets him at liberty, nay, repairs the ruins of his 
estate. The rioter is man ; two flattering friends are riches and pleasures ; 
these the so\il of man embraceth, spends her strength and time, most pre- 
cious riches, on them. The third friend, that rebukes Ins sins, is Christ; 
this, because distasteful to blood and flesh, without regard to his .saving- 
health, is rejected : at last, all the tune oi giace spent, the soul, so far in Cod's 
debt, is arrested by one of Cod's Serjeants — sickness, or calamity, »»r an ;ifllictcd 
con.science ; then those friends begin to .slink. Tleiisure is gone suddenly, so 
soon as the head begins to ache, lliches, perhaps, will offer to go with him 
to the prison door, the gates of death, the preparation to the grave. The 
faulting sold, foreseeing their fidsehood, weakness, aggravation of his miseries, 
with du humbled heart, remorseful conscience, tears in his eyes, prayers and 
cries on his tongue, solicits his neglected Saviour to pity his distress, and 
have mercy upon huu. These mes-sengcrs have no sooner pierced tlie lu'a- 
vens, but down comes the Spirit of gi-ace and mercy, with pardon and free 
remission, payment of all debts, and discharge of all sorrows. 

If ever you meet with friend more able, more willing, more certain, to do 
you good, reject this coun.sel : Ps. cxlvi.. The breath of men is in their nos- 
trils, and there is no help in them, though they were prhices ; when not only 
their material parts, flesh, blood, bones, and marrow, but even i)art of the 
inward man, so far as their worldly intendments went, ' thcii- thou;;Ut3 perisL' 



32S THE gallant's burden. [Sermon XIX, 

But God was, is, and is to come ; not only in power, but in mercy, sweetness, 
protection, 'Jesus Christ yesterday, and to-day, and tlie same for ever,' 
Heb. xiii. 8. 

That Jesus Christ put into our mouths a tongue to inquire, into our hearts 
a purpose to return, into our lives a grace to come home to holiness and 
liiniself : this God grant for his mercy's sake, Jesus Christ for his merit's 
sake, the Holy Ghost for his name's sake ; to whom be ascribed uU honour 
and praise, for ever and ever ! Amen. 



THE SINNER'S PASSING-BELL; 

OR, 

A COMPLAINT FROM HEAVEN FOR MAN'S SINS. 



Is there no halm in GUead; is there no physician there ? why then is not ihi', 
health of the daughter of my people recovered ? — Jer. VIII. 22. 

This is a world to make physicians rich, if men loved not their purse better 
than their health. For the world waxeth old, and old age is weak and 
sickly. As when death begins to seize upon a man, his brain by Uttle and 
little groweth out of order, his mind becomes cloudy and truublod with fan- 
tasies, the channels of his blood and the radical moisture (the oil that feeds 
the lamp of his life) begm to dry up, all Ids limbs lose their former agility . 
as the little world tlms decays in the great, so the great decays in itself, that 
nature is fain to lean on the staff of art, and to be held up by man's industry. 
The signs which Christ hath given to forerun the world's ruin are called by a 
father," cegritudines mnndi, the diseases or sicknesses of the world ; as .sick- 
ness naturally goes before death. Wars dyeing the earth into a .siingniine hue, 
dead carcases infecting the airs, and the infected airs breathing out plagues 
and pestilences and sore contagions. Whereof, saith the siime father, nnUi 
inaijis quam nos tcdcs sumus, qiios rnnndi Jinis iuvenit, — none can be more 
certain witnesses than we, ' upon wIkjui the ends of the world are come.' That 
sometimes the influences of heaven spoil the fruits of the earth, and the fogs 
of earth soil the virtues of the heavenly bodies ; that neither planets above, 
nor plants below, yield us expected comforts : so God, for our sins, bring.s 
the heaven, the earth, the air, and whatsoever was created for man's use, to 
be his enemy, and to war against him. And all because omnia qiiauid iisnm 
vilce accipwu(s,ad nsum vitii ro}n'cr(imHs,i — we turn all things to rorrui'tiou 
which were given for preservation. Therefore, what we have diverted to 
■wickedness, God doth return upon us for revenge. We are .sick of sin, and 
therefore the world is sick of u.s. 

Our lives shorten, a.s if the book of our days were, by God's knife «if 
judgment, cut less, and brought from folio, as in the patriarchs before the 
flood, to quarto in the fathers after the Hood ; nay, to octavo, as with the 
* Ambros. t Clregor. 



330 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

prophets of the law , nay, even to decimo-sexto, as with us in the days of the 
gospel. The elements are more mixed, drossy, and confused ; the airs are 
infected ; neither wants our intemperance to second all the rest. We hasten 
that we would not have, death ; and run so to riot in the April of our early 
vanities, that our May shall not scape the fall of our leaf. Our great land- 
lord hath let us a fair house, and we suffer it quickly to run to rum : that 
whereas the soul might dv^x'll in the body as a palace of delight, she finds it 
a crazy, sicldsh, rotten cottage, in danger, every gust, of dropping down. 

How few shalt thou meet, if their tongues would be true to their griefs, 
without some disturbance or affliction ! There lies one groaning of a sick 
heart , another shakes his aching head ; a third roars for the torments of 
his reins ; a fourth for the racking of his gouty joints ; a fifth grovels with 
the falling sickness ; a last lies half-dead of a palsy. Here is work for the 
physicians. They rufile in the robes of preferment, and ride in the foot-cloths 
of reverence. Early and devout suppliants stand at their study- doors, 
quaking, with ready money in their hands, and glad it will be accepted. 
The body, if it be sick, is content sometimes to buy U7iffuentum cereum, with 
iinrjuentum aureum, — leaden trash, with golden cash. But it is sick, and 
needs physic ; let it have it. 

There is another physician, that thrives well too, if not best , and that is 
the lawyer. For men go not to the physician till their bodies be sick; 
but to the lawyer when they be well, to make them sick. Thus, whiles they 
fear an ague, they fall into a consumption. He that scapes his disease and 
falls into the hands of liis physicians, or from his trouble of suits lights 
into the fingers of his laAvyer, fulfils the old verse — 

■ liicidit in Scyllam, dum vult vitare Charybdim; ' 

or is in the poor bird's case, that, flying in fear from the cuckoo, lighted 
into the talons of the hawk. These are a couple of thriving physicians. 
Alter •tuetar cegros, alter tuetur agros, — One looks to the state of the person, 
the other of the purse ; so the old verse testifies — 

'Dafc Galenus opes, dat Justiuianus houoi-es;' — 

Physic gives wealth, and law honour. I speak not against due reward for 
just deserts in both these professions. 

These physicians are both in request : but the third, the physician of the 
soul, (of whom, I am now occasioned to shew, there is most need,) may st^and 
at the door with Homer, and, did he speak with the voice of angels, not to 
be admitted. The sick rich man lies patiently under his physician's hands ; 
he gives him golden words, real thanks, nay, and often flattering observance. 
If the state lie sick of a consumption; or if some contentious empiric, by 
new suits, would lance the imposthumed swellings of it ; or if, perhaps, it lie 
sullen-sick of Naboth's vineyard, the lawyer is, perchance, not sent for, but 
gone to, and his help implored, not without a royal sacrifice at least. But 
for the minister of his parish, if he may not have his head u)ider Ids gu'dle, 
and his attendance as servile as his livery-groom's, he thinks himself indigiii- 
fied, and rages, like the Pope, that any priest durst eat of his peacock. How 
short doth this physician's respect fall of both the others ! Let him ' feed 
his sheep,' John xxi. IG, if he Avill, with 'the milk of the word,' 1 Pet. ii. 2; 
his sheep will not feed him Avith the milk of reward. He shall hardly get 
from his patroii the milk of tlie vicarage ; but if he looks for the fleeces of 
the parsonage, ho shidl have, after the proverb, lanarn caprinam, contempt 
and scorn. 



Jee. VIII. 22.] TUE sinner's passing-bell. 331 

Haman was not more mad for JNIordecai's cap, Esther iiL :"), tlian the great 
one is, that as much observance ariseth not to him from the bhick coat aa 
from Lis own blue coat. The church is behohlen to him, tliat lie will tuni 
one of his cast servitors out of his own into her service ; out of his chamber 
into the chancel ; from the buttery-hatch to the pulpit. He that was not 
worthy enough to wait on his worship is good enough for Ciod. Yield this 
sore almost healed, yet the honour of the ministry thrives like trees in 
autumn. Even their best estimate is but a shadow, and that a preposterous 
one ; for it goes back faster than the shadow in the dial of Ahaz, Isa. xxrviii. 
8. If a rich man have four sons, the youngest or contemnedst must be the 
priest. Perhaps the eldest shall be committed to his lands ; for if his lands 
should be comnaitted to him, his father fears he would carry them all up to 
London : he dares not venture it without binding it sure. For which pur- 
pose he makes his second son a lawyer : a good rising jirofession, for a man 
may by that (which I neither envy nor tax) run up, like Jonah's gcmrd, to 
preferment ; and for wealth, a cluster of law is worth a whole vintage of 
gospel. If he study means fur his third, lo, physic smells well ; that, as the 
other may keep the estate from running, so this the body from ruining. 
For his youngest son he cares not, if he puts him into God's service, and 
makes him capable of the church-goods, though not pliable to the church's 
good. Thus having provided for the estate of his inheritance, of his advance- 
ment, of his carcase, he comes last to think of his conscience. 

I would to God this were not too frequeiitly the world'.s ftishion. Where- 
as heretofore, j^^'^'^^ogeniti eo jure sacerdotes, — the first-boni had the right of 
priesthood, — now the yovmger son, if he be fit for nothiug else, lights upon 
that privilege : that, as a reverend divine saith, * Younger brothers are made 
priests, and priests are made younger brothers.' Yet, alas ! for all diseases 
nature provideth, art prepareth medicines. He is fed in this country, whom 
that refuseth. An estate lost by shii)wreck on sea, may be recovered by 
good-speed on land. And in ill-health, for every sore of the body there 
is a salve, for every malady a remed)% but for the conscience, nature hatli 
no cure, as lust no care. Ilei mild, quod nullis anima est medlcahilis licrhis, 
— There is no herb to heal the wounds of the soiU, thtmgh you take the whole 
world for the garden. All these professions are necessary, that men's igno- 
rance might not prejudice them, either in wealth, health, or grace : God hath 
made men fit with qualities, and famous in their faculties, to preserve all 
these sound in us. The lawyer for thy wealth, the physicuin for thy health, 
the divine for thy soul. Physicians cure the body ; ministers the conscience. 

The church of Israel is now exceeding sick ; and thercfi>re the more dan- 
gerously, because she knows it not. No physic is desired ; therefore no 
health follows. She lies in a lethargy, and therefore speechless. She is so 
past sense of her weakness, that God himself is fain to ring her pa.ssing-bell. 
Aaron's beUs cannot sound loud enough to waken her ; God tolls from heaven 
a sad knell of complaint for her. 

It i.s, I tliink, a custom not unworthy of approbation, when a languishing 
Christian draws near his end, to toll a heavy bell for him. tSet a.sidc tlio 
prejudice of .superstition, and the ridiculous conceits of some old wives, 
whose wits arc more decrepit than their bodies, and I sec not why rea-sons 
may not be given to prove it, though not a necessary, yet an allowed cere- 
mony : — 

1. It puts into the sick man a sense of mortality ; and llinugh many other 
objects should do no less, yet this seasonably performs it, If any particular 
flatterer, or other carnal friends, should use to him the susurration that Peter 



333 THE SIKNEII'S PASSING-BELL, [SeRMON XX. 

did once to Clirist, ' jMaster, fiivour thyself : this shall not be unto thee,' 
!Matt. xvL 22 : though sickness lies on your bed, death shall not enter your 
chamber ; the cvU day is far off, fear notliing ; you shall live many years : 
or, as the devil to our grandmother, ' You shall not die,' Gen. iii. 4. Or if 
the May of his years shall persuade himself to the remoteness of his autumn. 
Or if the love of earthly pleasure shall deny him the leisure to think of 
death; as Epaminondas, general of the Theljans, understanding a captain 
of his army to be dead, exceedingly wondered how in a camp any should 
have so much leisure as to be sick. In a Avord, whatsoever may flatter him 
with hope of life, the bell, like an impartial friend, without either the too 
broad eyes of pity, or too narrow of partiality, sounds in his own cars his 
own weakness • and seems to tell him that, in the opinion of the Avorld, he 
is no man of the world. Thus, with a kind oi divinity, it gives him ghostly 
counsel : to remit the care of his carcase, and to admit the cure of his con- 
science. It tolls all in ; it shall toll thee into thy grave. 

2. It excites the hearers to pray for the sick ; and when can prayers be 
more acceptable, more comfortable? The faithful devotions of so many 
Christian neighbours, sent up as incense to heaven for thee, are very available 
to pacify an offended justice. This is St James's physic for the sick : chap. 
V. 14, 15, * The prayer of faith shall save the sick ; and the Lord shall raise 
him \xp : and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him.' Now, 
though we be all servants of one ' family of God,' Eph. iii. 1 5, yet because 
of particular families on earth, and those so removed that one member can- 
not condole another's grief that it feels not, — 7i07i dolet cor, quod nan novit, 
— the bell, like a speedy messenger, runs from house to house, from ear to 
ear, on thy soul's errand, and begs the assistance of their prayers. Thy 
heart is thus incited to pray for thyself, others excited to pray for thee. He 
is a pharisee that desires not the prayers of the church ; he is a publican that 
will not beseech God's mercy for the afflicted. Thy time and turn will come 
to starnd in need of the same succour, if a more sudden blast of judgment do 
not blow out thy candle. Make thy sick brother's case thine now, that the 
coiigTegation may make thine theirs hereafter. Be in this exigent even a 
friend to thine enemy, lest thou become like Babel, to be served of others 
' as thou hast served others ;' or at least, at best, in falling Nero's case, that 
cried, ' I have neither friend nor enemy.' 

3. As the bell hath often rung thee into the temple on earth, so now it 
rings thee unto the church in heaven ; from the militant to the triumphant 
place ; from thy pilgrimage to thy home ', from thy peregrination to the 
standing court of God. To omit many other significant helps, enough to 
justity it a laudable ceremony, it doth, as it were, mourn for thy sins, and 
hath compassion on thy passion. Though in itself a dumb nature, yet as 
God hath made it a creature, the church an instrument, and art given it a 
tongue, it speaks to thee to speak to God for thyself ; it speaks to others, 
that they would not be wanting. 

Israel is sick, no bell stirs ; no balm is thought of, no prophet consulted, 
not God himself solicited. Hence, behold, a complaint from heaven, a knell 
from above the clouds ; for though the words sound through the prophet's 
lips, who tolls like a passing-bell for Israel, yet they come from the mouth 
of the Lord of hosts. The prciphet Ezekiel uscth lilce words, and adds with 
them, * The Lord of hosts saith it,' chap, xviii. It is certain that the pro- 
phet Jeremiah speaks here many things in his own person, and some in the 
person of God. Now, ])y comparing it with other like speeches in the pro- 
phets, these words sound m i'rom a merciful and compassionate Maker : 



JeK. VIII. 22.J THE SINNEPw's PASSING-BELL. 333 

* Why is not the health of my people recovered?' Mel pnpu/1, ?xni\i Cod, 
who indeed might lUonc speak positively. Mine ; for he had chosen and 
culled them out of the whole world to be his people. ' Why arc not my 
pco[)le recovered?' There is balm, and there are physicians, as in Isaiah : 
' What could I have done more for my vineyard i ' chap. v. 

The words are divided to our hands by a rule of three. A tripartite 
metaphor, that willingly spreads itself into an allegory : — 1. God's word is 
the balm ; 2. The prophets are the physicians ; 3. The people arc the 
patients, who are very sick. Balm without a physician, a physician without 
balm, a patient without both, is iiij'uv.xtd separati", an unhappy disjunction. 
If a man be ill, there is need of physic ; when he hath physic, he needs a 
physician to apply it. So that, here is misery in being sick, mercy in the 
physic. 

Not to disjoin or disjoint the prophet's order, let us observe, the words arc 
spoken — 1. In the person of God ; 2. In the form of a question ; 3. By a 
conclusive inference. Only two things I woidd fir-st generally observe to you, 
as necessary inductions to the subsetpient doctrines ; both which may natu- 
rally be inferred, not tyramiously ciiforced, from the words. That which 
Jlrst objects itself to our consideration, is the wisdom of God in working on 
men's affections ; which leads us here from natural wants, subject to sense, 
to invisible and more secret defects. That, as if any man admired Solomon'.s 
house, they would be ravished in desire to sec God's house, which trans- 
cended the former so much as the former transcended their expectations : 
.so here we might be led frona man's work to God's work, from tilings ma- 
terial to things mystical ; and, by the happiness of cure to our sick bodies, 
be induced to seek and get recovery of our dyhig souls. The second is, the 
lit collation of divinity and physic ; the one undertaking to preserve and re- 
store the health of the body, the other performing much more to the soul. 

Obs. 1. — God leads us by sensible, to the sight of insensible wants; by 
calamities that vex our living bodies, to perils that endanger our dying con- 
sciences ; that we might infer upon his premises what would be an eternal 
loss, by the sight of a temporal cross that is so hardly brooked. If a ' famine 
of bread ' be so heavy, how unsupportablc is the dearth of the word ! s;iith 
the prophet, Amos viii. 11. j\Ian may live without bread, not without the 
word. Matt. iv. 4. If a weary traveller be so unable to bear a burden on hi.s 
shoulders, how ponderous is shi in the conscience ! !Matt. xi. 28 : which 
Zcchariah calls ' a talent of lead,' chap. v. 7. If blindness be such a 
misery, what is ignorance ! If the night be so imcomfortable, what doth the 
darkness of superstition afford ! If bodily disease so afUict our .sense, how 
intolerable wiU a spiritual sickness prove ! Thus all earthly and inferior 
objects to a Christian soul are lilce marginal hands, directuig his reading to 
a better and heavenly reference. I intend to urge this point the more, as it 
is more necessary, both for the prolit of it being well observed, and for the 
general neglect of it ; because they arc few in these day.s that reduce Chris- 
tianity to meditation, but fewer that produce meditation to practice and obe- 
dience. 

Diseases, proceeding toward death as theii- end, perplex the flesh with 
much pain ; but if diseases, which be death's capital chirurg<'ons, his pre- 
ceding heralds to proclaim his nearness, his ledgers tiiat usurp his place 
till himself conies, be so vexatious and fuU tjf angui.sh, what is death in it- 
self, which kills the diseases that killed us ! J-'or the perfection of sickncs.s 
is death. But, alas ! if the sickness and death of the body be .such, what 
are sin (the sickness) and impcniteucy (the death) of the soul ! What is the 



334 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

dimmed eye to the darkened understanding ! the infected members, to the 
poisoned affections ! the torment of the reins, to the stitches, girds, and 
gripes of an aching conscience ! What is the child's Caput dolet, ' Isly head 
aches,' to Jerusalem's Cor dolet, My heart aches ! For the soul to leave the 
body with her offices of life, is not so grievous as for God's Spirit to re- 
Unquish the soul with the comforts of grace. In a word, it is far less miser- 
able to give up the ghost than to give up the Holy Ghost. The soul, that 
enters the body without any sensible pleasure, departs not from it without 
extreme pain. He that is Animcms animas, the Soul of our souls, forsakes 
not our spirits, but our pain is more, though our sense be less ; as in the 
wars, the cut of a sword crossing the fibres carries more smart with it, though 
less mortahty, than the fatal charge of a death-thundering cannon. The 
soul hath t\vo places : an inferior, which it ruleth, the body ; a superior, 
wherein it rcsteth, God. Man's greatest sorrow is, when he dies upwardly, 
that God forsakes his God-forsaking soul ; his greatest sense, when he dies 
downwards, and sickness disperseth and despatcheth his vital powers. Let, 
then, the inferior suffering waken us, to feel the inferior that doth weaken us. 

Thus God draws our eyes from one object to another, — nay, by one to 
another, — by that which we love on earth, to that which we should love in 
heaven : by the providence of our bodies, to the provision for our souls. So 
our Saviour, having discoursed of carefulness for terrene things, draws his 
speech to the persuasion of celestial benefits j giving the coherence with a 
hut : Matt. vi. 33, ' But first seek ye the kingdom of God, and his righteous- 
ness, and all these inferior things shall be added unto you : ' ttt ad excel- 
lentiam divinaruin reruiti per corporalia homines attollat, — that at once he 
might lesson us to holy duties, and lessen our care for earthly things. Thus, 
qui OS homini sublime dedit, cor sublimius elevare voluit, — he that gave man 
a countenance lifted high, meant to erect his thoughts to a higher contem- 
plation. For many have such grovelling and earth- creeping affections, that 
if their bodies' curvity was answerable to their souls', incederent quadrupedes, 
they woidd become four-footed beasts. It is a course preposterous to God's 
creation, disproportionable to man's fabric, that he should fix his eyes, and 
thoughts, and desires, on the base earth, made for Ms feet to stand on ; and 
turn his feet against heaven in contempt, ' lifting up his heel against God.' 
He whose ill-balancing judgment thinks heaven light, and earth only wciglity 
end worthy, doth, as it were, walk on his head, with his heels upward. I 
have heard travellers speak of monstrous and preternatural men, but never 
any so contranatural as these. 

Christ knew, in the days of his flesh, what easy q,pprehension worldly 
things would find in us ; what hard impression heavenly would find on us : 
therefore, so often by plain comparisons he taught secret doctrines ; by his- 
tories, mysteries. How, to the life, doth he explain the mercy of God, and 
the misery of man, in the lost sheep, in the lost groat, in the lost son ! Luke 
XV. How sweetly doth he describe the different hearers of God's oracles in 
the parable of the seed ! Matt. xiii. ; which howsoever it seemed a riddle to 
the self-blinding Jews, yet was a familiar demonstration to the believing 
saints. So the prophets found that actual applications pierced more than 
verbal explications. Nathan, by an instance of supposition, wrought David's 
heart to a humble confession. He drew the proposition from his own lip.s, 
'The man that hath done tliis is worthy of death;' and then struck Avliile 
the iron was liot, by an inferred conclusion, ' Thou art the man,' 2 Sam. xii. 
7. The proi>het Aliijah rent the new garment of Jeroboam in twelve pieces, 
and bade him reserve ten to himself, in sign ' that God had rent the king- 



Jer. VIII. 22.] THE sinner's passing-bell. 335 

(lorn out of the hand of Solomon,' and given ten tribes to liim, 1 Kiiii^s xi. 
;iO, Isaiah, by going 'naked and barefoot,' as by a visiljlu sign, lo»s<ins 
I'^gypt and Etliiopia that after tliis manner they should go captive to Assyria, 
Isa. XX. 3. Jeremiah, by wearing 'bands and yokes,' iind sending them to 
the kings of Edom, Moab, Amnion, Tyre, Sidon, .JucUih, gives them an actual 
representation, a visible sacrament of their Babylonish cai)tivity, Jer. xxni. 1. 
Ezekiel's portraying upon a tile the city Jerusalem, and the siege against it, 
is called by God ' a sign against them,' Ezck, iv. 1. Agabus ' took I'aul's 
girdle, and bound his own hands and feet :' a sign, and that from tlir Jloly 
Ghost, that ' he who owned the girdle should be so bound at Jerusidem, and 
delivered into the hands of the Gentiles,' Acts xxi. 11. God schooled Jonah 
in the gourd, by a Lively apophthegm, and real subjection to his own eyes, of 
his luijust impatience against God and Nineveh, Jonah iv. 

It was God's usual dealing with Israel, by the afHietions wherewith he 
grieved them, to put into their minds how they had grieved him by their 
sms. So Paul, as our prophet here, ' For this cause ye are weak, sickly, and 
many die,' 1 Cor. xi. 30 ; drawhig them by these sensible cords of their 
plagues to the feeling of their sins, which made their souls faint in grace, 
sick in sin, dead in apostasy. ' For this cause,' (fee. This doctrine atibrds a 
double use — particiUar and general ; particular to ministers, general to sdl 
Christians. 

Use 1. — To the dispensers of God's secrets. It allows them in borrowed 
forms to express the meditations of their hearts. God hath given us this 
liberty in the periormance of our callings, not only nakedly to lay down the 
truth, but with the helps of invention, wit, ;ut, to prevent the loathing of his 
manna. K we had none to hear us but Cornelius or Lydia, or such sanctilied 
ears, a mere affirmation were a sufficient confirmation. But our auditt)rs arc. 
like the Belgic armies, that consist of French, English, Scotch, Gennan, 
Spanish, Italian, &c. ; so many hearers, so many humours, the same diver- 
.sity of men and minds : that as guests at a strange dish, every man hath a 
relish by himself; that all our helps can scarce help one soul to heaven. 
But of all kjiids, there is none that creeps with better insinuation, or leaves 
behind it a deeper impres.sioii in the conscience, than a fit comparison. This 
extorted from David what would hardly have been granted : that as David 
slew Goliath with his own sword, so Nathan slew David's sui with his own 
word. Jotham convinced the Shechemites' folly in their approved reign of- 
Abimelech over them, by the tale of the bramble. Judges ix. 8. Even tem- 
poral occasions open the mines to dig out siuritual instructions. The jieojik^ 
tiock to Christ for his bread ; Christ proacheth to them another bread, 
whereof ' he that eats, shall never die,' John vi. 47. The Samaritan woman 
speaks to him of Jacob's well ; ho tells her of Jcsus's well, John iv., who.so 
bottom or foundation was in heaven, whose mouth and spring downwards 
to the earth, cross to all earthly fountains, containing 'water of life,' to be 
drawn and canied away in the buckets of faith. She thought it a new well, 
she found it a true well ; whereof drinking, her soul's thirst was for ever 
satisfied. The crijiplc begs f<jr an alms ; the Apostle hath no money, but 
answers his small request with a great bequest — health ' in the name of the 
Lord Jesus,' Acts iii. <J. Nihil addilnr vuirmpio, muUiim suhKi. His purse 
is nothing the fuller, his body is much the happier. This cour.'^o, you sec, 
both Christ and his apo.stles gave us in practice and precept. 

In practice. When the woman 'blessed the womb that bare Christ, and 
the paps which gave him suck,' Luke xi. 27, he derived hence occasion to 
bless them which conceive him in their faith, and receive him in their obedi- 



336 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

cncc : ' Blessed arc tlicy that hear the word of God and keep it.' Even as 
Mary herself was rather blessed percipiendo fidem, quam concipiendo carnem 
Chrisli, in receiving the faith, than conceiving the flesh of Christ ; so the 
news of his kindred in the flesh ' standing at the door,' taught him to teach 
who are his true kindred in the Spirit. 

In precept to his apostles. If they will not receive and believe you, 
' wipe off the dust of their city,' that cleaveth to your feet, ' against them,' 
Luke X. 11. If they will not be moved with your words, amaze them with 
your wonders : ' Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out 
devils,' Matt. x. 8. We cannot now work miracles, yet we can speak of 
miracles. Even we must also, as obey his documents, so observe his doings ; 
and follow him in due measure, both in his words and works, though non passi- 
hus cequis, not with equal steps. Our imitation must be with limitation ; 
aptly distinguishing Avhat we must only admire in our minds, what admit in 
our manners. 

Use 2. — To all Christians ; that we climb up by the stairs of these in- 
ferior creatures, to contemplate the glorious power of the Creator. A good 
Christian, that like the bee works honey from every flower, suffers no action, 
demonstration, event, to slip by him without a question. All objects to a 
meditating Solomon are like wings to rear and mount up his thoughts to 
heaven. As the old Romans, when they saw the blue stones, thought of 
Olympus ; so let every object, though low in itself, elevate our minds to 
Mount Zion. A mean scaffold may serve to raise up a goodly building. 
Courtiers weather-driven into a poor cottage, etiam, in caula, de aula loqu- 
imtiir, gather hence opportunity to praise the court. We may no less, even 
ex hara, de ara dicendi ansam sumere, from our tabernacles on earth be 
induced to praise our standing house in heaven, John xiv. 2. So, as the 
philosopher aimed at the ])itch and stature of Hercules, by viewing the length 
of the print of his foot, we may, by the base and dwarfish pleasures on our 
earth, guess at the high and noble joys in heaven. How can we cast up our 
eyes to that they were made to behold, and not suffer our minds to transcend 
it ; passing through the lower heaven, which God made for fovls, vapours, 
meteors, to the firmament wherein he fixed his stars, and thence meditating 
of the empyreal heaven, which he created for himself, his angels, his saints : 
a place no less glorious above the visible, than the visible is above the earth ! 
Read in every star, and let the moon be your candle to do it, the provident 
disposition of God, the eternity of your after-life. 

But if earth be at once nearer to yoiir standing and understanding ; and, 
like dissembling lovers, that, to avoid suspicion, divert their eyes from that 
cheek whereon they have fixed their hearts ; so you look one way and love 
another, heaven having your countenance, earth your confidence : then for 
earth, read this instruction in all things, the certain destruction of all things. 
For if the ratified and azure body of this lower heaven be folded up like a 
scroll of parchment, then much more this drossy, feculent, and sedimental 
earth shall be burnt. 

' Uret cum terris, iiret cum gurgite pouti. 
Communis mundo superest rogus,' &c. 

* The heavens shall pass away witli a noise, and the elements shall melt 
with fervent heat ; the earth also and the works that are therein shall bo 
burnt up,' 2 Pet. iii. 10. At least quoad Jig uravi, though not quoad ■nuturam. 
The form shall be changed, thougii not tlie nature abolished. Every crea- 
ture on earth may teach us the fallibility of it. It is a hieroglyphic of 



Jer. VIII. 22.J THE siKXEU s rAsbiN(j-iii:LL. 337 

vanity and mutability. There is iiuthiiig on it that is of it, which is not 
become more vitial than vital, la all the corrujited parts of this decrepit 
and doting world, men's best lesson of morality is a lesson of mortality. As 
it was once said, Felix qui pot nit renuii cogni-scere causas; so now better, 
Felix qui potent rerum coynoscere casu^s, — It is good to know the causal 
beginnings of things ; it is better to know their casual ends. It is good to 
be a natural philosopher, but better to be a supernatural, a Christian philo- 
sopher ; that whiles we iutcntively observe the creature, we may attentively 
serve the Creator. 

That which is said of pregnant wits is more true of Christian hearts, that 
they can make use of anything. As travellers in foreign countries make 
every slight object a lesson, so let us thrive in grace by every presented work 
of nature. As the eye must see, and the foot walk, and the hand work, so 
the heart must consider. What ? God's doings, which ' are marvellous in 
our' (understandings') ' eyes,' Ps. cxviii. 23. Grod looked upon his own works, 
saw they were good, and delighted in them ; sure it is his pleasure also 
that we should look upon them, to admire his wisdom, power, providence, 
mercy, appearing both in their nature and their disposition. The least of 
God's works is worthy the observation of the greatest angel. Now what 
truants are we, that having so many tutors reading to us, learn nothing of 
them 1 The heathen were condemned for not learning ' the invisible things 
of God ' from his ' visible works,' Kom. i. 20. For shall we still plod on 
the great volume of God's works, and never learn to spell one word of use, 
of instruction, of comfort to ourselves 1 Can we behold nothing through the 
spectacles of contemplation 1 Or shall we be ever reading the great book of 
nature, and never translate it to the book of grace ? The saints did thus. 
So have I read, that a reverend preacher sitting among other divines, and 
hearing a sweet concert of music, as if his soul had been borne up to heaveif, 
took occasion to think and speak thus : ' What music may we think there 
is in heaven !' A friend of mine, viewing attentively the great pomp and 
state of court, on a solemn day, spake not without some admiration : ' What 
shall we think of the glory in the court of God ! ' Happy object, and well 
observed, that betters the soul in grace ! But I have been prolLv in this 
point; let the brevity of the next requite it. 

Ois. 2. — Physic and divinity are professions of a near affinity, both in- 
tending the cure and recovery, one of our bodies, the other and better, of 
our souls. Not that I would have them conjtnned in one person ; as one 
spake merrily of him that was both a physician and a minister, that whom 
he took money to kill by his physic, he had also money again to bury by his 
priesthood. Neither, if God hath poured both these gifts hito one man, do 
I censure their union, or persuade their separation. Only, let the hound 
that runs after two hares at once take heed lost he catch neither : Ad duo 
qui tendit, non unum, nee duo prendit. And let him that is called into 
God's vineyard, hoc agere, ' attend on his ofhcc,' Rom. xii. 0-8. Ami be- 
ware, lest to keep hLs parish on sound legs, he let them walk with sickly 
consciences : whiles Galen and Avicen take the wall of Paul and Peter. 
I do not here tax, but rather praise, the works of mercy in those ministers 
that give all possible comforts to the distreased bodies of their brethren. 

Let the professions be hetrrogeiieu, different in their kuids ; only respon-^ 
deiitia, Hemhhihlo in their proooedings. The Lord ' created tlie pliysician,' 
so hath he 'ordained the minister,' Kjih. iv. 11. The Lord hath put into 
him the knowledge of nature, into this the knowledge of grace. All know- 
ledge is derived from the fountain of God's wisdom. The Lord ' hath created 
Vf L. 1. . . • 



338 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

medicines out of the earth,' Ecchis. xxxviii. 4 ; the Lord hath inspired his 
holy word from heaven, 2 Pet. i. 21. The good physician acts the part of 
the divine : ' They shall pray unto the Lord, that he would prosper that 
which the}'' give, for ease and remedy to prolong life,' Ecclus. xxxviii. 14; 
the good minister, after a sort, is a physician. Only it is enough for the 
Son of God to give both natural and spiritual physic. But as Plato spake 
of philosophy, that it covers the imitations of God, within the limits of pos- 
sibility and,sobriety ; so we may say of physic, it is conterminate to di\dnity, 
so far as a handmaid may follow her mistress. The institutions of both pre- 
serve the constitutions of men. The one would prevent the obstructions of 
our bodies, the other the destructions of our souls. Both purge our feculent 
corruptions ; both would restore us to our primary and original health : 
though by reason of our impotency and indisposition, both often fail. Both 
oppose themselves against death, either our corporal or spiritual perishing. 

When ' the Spirit of God moved on the waters,' and from that indigested 
and confused mixture, did by a kind of alchymical extraction, sublimation, 
conjunction, put all things into a sweet consort and harmonious beauty, he 
did act a physician's part. God is in many places a physician : Exod. xv. 
26, ' I am the Lord that healeth thee ;' Deut. xxxii. 39, ' I kill, I make 
alive; I wound, and I heal ;' Jer. xvii. 14, 'Heal me, O Lord, and I shall 
be healed : save me, and I shall be saved.' Sometimes he is as a surgeon, ' to 
bind up the sores of the broken-hearted,' and to stanch the bleeding wounds 
of the conscience. Nay, David entreats him ' to put his bones in course 
again.' So Christ hath sent his ministers, sig KaTaoriSfx^ov, ad coanmentationem, 
as Beza reads it, ' to put m joint the luxate members of the church, that are 
compacted by joints,' Eph. iv. 12-16. And in the period or full stop of 
time, God will minister to the world the physic of fire, to purge the sick 
body of it, as he once gave it a potion of water to cleanse it. 

* Quas olim intulerant terris contagia sordes, 

Vos olim ultrices ablueratis aqua;. 
At nunc, cum terras, cum totas aequoris uudas 

Polluerit majua quam fuit ante, scelus : 
Quid superest, ccelo nisi missus ut ignis ab alto, 

Ipsas cum terris, devoret ultor aquas?'* — 

'Once in God's sight the world so filthy stood, 
Tliat he did wash and soak it in a flood : 
But now it's gi-own so foul and full of mire. 
Nothing remains to purge it but a fire.' 

Which Strabo, writing on the world's destruction by fire, would seem to 
gather from those two colours in the rainbow, ccernleo et y/neo, blue and 
red. The first cataclysm, of water, is past ; the second deluge, of fire, is to 
come. So saith the apostle : 'The heavens being ou fire shall be dissolved; 
the elements shall melt with fervent heat,' 2 Pet. iii. 12. Novmn qualitafem 
induent manente suhstantia,f — All earthly things shall wax old and die ; 
7)iors etiam saxis nommibusque venit, — but the substance shall remain. It is 
but the ' fashion of this world that passeth aAvay :' (s-)(j\(j.a, Jigiira, non natura. 
When all the putrified^'c^ces, dross and combustible matter, shall be refined 
in the fire, all things shall be reduced to a crystalline clearness. Thus, 
though the heathen profanely made the physician a god, yet the Christian 
may say truly, ' Our God is become our physician.' And his ministers are 
his deputies under him, bringing in their lips the saving medicines that God 
hath given them. 

* Beza. f Calvin iu loc. prseced. 



j£R. VIII. 22.] THE SIXNER'.S PASSING-BELL. 339 

You see the willing similitnde of these professions. Indeed, the physician 
cannot so aptly and ably challenge or make bold with the minister's office, as 
the minister may with his. The clergyman may mini.stcr medicines ; the phy- 
sician may not administer the .sacraments. It is true thus far. Every Cliris- 
tian is a priest to otier up prayers for liunself and the whole church, although 
not publicly and ministerially ; and none but a Cain will deny himself to be 
his ' brother's keeper.' Though exhortation be the minister's duty, yet ' ex- 
hort one another daUy,' Heb. iii. 1 3. And if we ' serve one anotlier in love,' 
we must carry, every one, a converting ministry, though God alone have the 
converting power : ' Turn one another, and live,' Ezek. xviii. 32. Now as this 
converting work is a convertible work, — I mean, reciprocal and mutual from 
one to another, — the physician may apportion to himself a great share in it. 
Who may better speak to the soul than he that is trusted with the body ? 
Or when can the stamp of grace take so easy impression in man's lieart, as 
when the heat of God's affliction hath melted it ? What breast is unvulne- 
rable to the strokes of death i The miserable carcase hath, then or never, a 
penetrable conscience. 

This conscience is so deafed in the days of our jollity, •with the loud noise 
of music, oaths, carousiugs, clamours, quarrels, sports, that it camiot hear 
the prophet's cry, 'All tiesh is grass.' When sickness hath thrown him on 
the bed of anguish, and made his stomach too quea.sy for quaft's, too tine and 
dainty for even junkets ; naked him of his silk.s, paled his cheeks, sunk his 
eyes, chilled his blood, and stunted all his vigorous spirits ; the physician is 
sent for, and must scarce be let out, when the minister may not be let in. 
His presence is too dull, and full of melancholy ; no messenger shall come 
for him, till his conung be too late. How justly, then, should the jjhysician 
be a divine, when the divine may not be a physician ! How well may he 
mingle recipe and resipisce, penitential exhortations with his medicinal ap- 
plications and prescripts ! 

Thus memorable and worthy to be our precedent was that Italian physi- 
cian's course : that when dissolute Ludovicus lay desolate in his sickness, 
and desired his help, he answered him in his own tune : ' If you shall live, 
you shall live, though no physic be given you : if you shall die, you shall 
die ; physic cannot help you.' According to the .sick man's libertine and 
heretical opinion concerning predestination : ' If I shall be saved, I shall be 
saved, howsoever I love or live : if I shall be damned, I shall be damned, 
howsoever I do or die.' The physician's an.swer gave him demonstrative 
conviction, taught him the use of means, as well for his .soul's as body's health, 
and so cured recanting Ludovicus of both his dise;ises at once. A godly 
practice, worthy the best physician's imitation. 

But with many, ' grace waits at the heels of nature ;' and they dive so deep 
into the secrets of philosophy, that they never look up to the mysteries of 
divinity. As some mathematicians deal so much in Jacob's staff, that they 
forget Jacob's ladder ; so some physicians, — God decrease the number ! — are 
so deep naturalists, that they are very shallow Christians. The best cure 
dei)ends upon God's care. It is poor and enervate help to which (iod's bless- 
ing hath jiot added strengi;h. If God doth not ' hear the heavens ' for virtue, 
and 'heaven hear the earth' for influence, Hos. ii. 21, and earth the physi- 
cian for ingredients, all their receipts arc but deceits, and the paper of their 
bills will do as much good as the prescripts in it. Simples are but simple 
things, and all compounds idle, when they want the best ingredient of God'a 
blessing. Let Plato, then, hold the candle to .Moses, and all phy.sicians drink 
at the well of the sons of the prophets. As their purpose aimeth ut our 



310 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

liealtlis, so let tliem entreat God to level their hands; their direction and suc- 
cess stands ' in the name of the Lord of hosts.' 

Obs. 3. — The form of the words is interrogatory : ' Is there no balm at 
Gilead 1 are there no physicians there V It is most true : balm is not scarce, 
nor are the physicians few, yet Israel is sick. God doth convince that by 
a question which might be without question affirmed, but would not be 
without question granted. The best insinuation or piercing assertion is ex 
intei'rogando, by way of question ; not only for explication, but for applica- 
tion, of truth. God doth as it were appeal to mans conscience, and fetch 
evidence from the impartial testimony of his heart ; that here, what is true 
in God's reprehension, may appear true in man's apprehension. The first 
word that God spake to man after his fall was a question : ' Adam,' uhi es ? 
'where art thou]' Gen. iii. 9. He contmues the same formam loquendi, 
normam arguencU, — form and method of speech : ' Who told thee that thou 
wast naked? Hast thou eaten of the tree, whereof,' &c., ver. 11. And to 
the woman : ' What is this that thou hast done ]' ver. 13. Before man fell 
to sin, God fell not to questioning. All his speeches were to him either 
commendatory or commandatory : approbationis, non exprobrationis, verba, 
— words of approval, not of exception. He createth, ordereth, blesseth man, 
and all things to him ; but when man fell to sliding, God fell to chiding. 
Because man turned his heart to another object, God turned his voice to 
another accent. 

God's questions are not of the nature of man's, the effects and helps of 
dubitation, according to the saying, 'Aircs/a /xrsrrjp ^rjryjgiMs, — Doubting is the 
mother of questioning. He that doubteth not will not ask. No ; God's de- 
mands are not to satisfy himself, but us : illations upon our actions ; that 
from the proposition of our sins, and the assumption of his questions, we 
may conclude against ourselves, as David, ' I have sinned.' Neither can we 
give solution to his interrogatories. ' Who dares, who can answer God ? He 
is -not as man,' saith Job, ' that I should answer him,' chap. Lx. 2-14. The 
intent is, then, to justify himself; to put into our conscience a sense, a science 
of our own iniquities. God so apposed Jonah : ' Doest thou well to be 
angry V And again, ' Doest thou well to be angry for a gourd V Art thou 
discontent for so contemptible a thing, a poor vegetative creature ; and do-st 
thou grudge my mercy to so many rational creatures, brethren of thine own 
flesh ? God's question was a manifest conviction, as strong as a thousand 
proofs. Jonah sees his face in this little spring, as if he had stood by a full 
river. 

Christ, that had the best method of teaching, and could make hearts of 
flint penetrable, moved his disciples' minds, removed his adversaries' doubts, 
frequently by questi(jns. He starts Peter, that Avas forgetful of his God, of 
himself, with a Quid, donnis 1 — What ! sleepcst thou ? He rectified the mis- 
taking judgments of his a])ostles, that turned his spiritual dchortation from 
the ' rharisees' leaven' to the literal sense of forgotten bread, with a double 
demand : Obliti ne estis ? tkc, — ' Do ye not yet understand, nor remember 
the five loaves of the five thousand?' &c.. Matt. xvi. 9, 10. Could so 
miraculous a banquet as quickly slip from your minds as it did from your 
mouths 1 So he informed their understandings concerning himself, which 
so much concerned them to know, ' Whom do men say that I am?" ver. 13. 
All which implied not his own ignorance, but helped their knowledge. He 
knew all things, and hereof he could no less be ignorant than of himself. 
Only he spake in a, catechising form, as the minister's question succour ■; the 
catecliist's understanding. 1 lis reproofs to his enemies were often clothed 



JeR. VIII. 22.] THE sinner's PASSING-BELL. 341 

in these interrogatory robes : ' How say tbcy tliat Christ is David's son V 
Lnke xx. 41, 'when David himself calleth him Lord f confuting that false 
opinion that the ,Je\v.s had of their Messiah, wliose temporal nmiKuehy they 
only gaped for. K he was only to be the son of David in the tlcsh, how doth 
lie call him Lord, and equal him with the Fatlur ? A questi(»n tiiat did en- 
force the conclusion himself desired, and a confutation of their errors. The 
like, ver. 4 ; he cramped their critical and hypocritical exceptions with a ques- 
tion : ' The baptism of John, was it from heaven, or of men ( ' which con- 
futed their arrogance, though they would have salved it with i:j;norance, ver. 
7, ' We cannot tell.' Tiiis manner of discussing is not more usual with (Jod 
than effectual. It converteth the elect, it convinccth the reprobate. Where- 
soever it is directed, it pierceth like a goad, and is a sharp stroke to the con- 
science ; and howsoever the smart is neglected, it leaveth a print behind it. 

Obs. 4. — If we take the words spoken in the person of God, they manifest 
his complaint against Israel. When God complains, sin is grievous. We 
never read God breaking forth into this compassionate form of speech, but 
iniquity is grown proud of her height. She nestles among the cedars, and 
towers like Babel, when he that can thunder it down with fire, doth as it 
wxre rain showers of complaint for it. It argues no less goodness in the 
fiither, than wickedness in the children, when he doth plain that can plague ; 
and breathes out the air of pity before he sends the storm of judgment. So 
you may see a long-provoked father, that after many eludings lost upt)n his 
son, after some gentle chastisements inflicted, and intended to his calling 
home, he finds his errors growing wilder, his affections madder, his heart 
more senseless, his courses more sensual ; he stands even deploring his 
wretchedness, that could not amend his wickedness : and whiles justice and 
mercy strive for mastery, as loath that his lenity should wrong his integrity, 
or yet that he should be as an executioner to him whom he had begotten 
to be an executor to himself, he breaks out into complaint. With no less 
pity, nay, with far greater mercy, doth God proceed to execute his judg- 
ments : unwilling to strike hard, for his mercy ; yet willing not to double 
his blow, but to lay it on sure at once, for our sins and his own justice. Or, 
as some compassionate judge, that must censure, by the law of his country, 
a heretic, strives first with arguments of reason to convert him, that argu- 
ments of iron and steel may not be used against him ; and studying his re- 
fractory disposition, culpable of his own death, by wilfully not being capaVile 
of good counsel, proceeds, not without plaints and tears, to his sentence. So 
doth the most ju.st God of heaven with the most luijust sons of men ; plead- 
ing by reasons of gentle and gracious forbearance, and offering the sweet con- 
ditions of happy peace, and, as it were, wailing our refusal before he ' shoot 
his arrows and consume us,' or ' make his sword drunk with our blood.s.' 

God hath armies of stars in the sky, meteors in the air, beasts on the 
earth, yea, of angels in heaven ; greater hosts and less : and whether he 
sends a great army of his little ones, or a little of his great ones, he can 
easily and quickly despatch u.s. Lo, he stays till he hath spoken with us ; 
and that rather by po.stidation than expostulation. He is not contumeUous 
against us, that have been contumacious against him. If his words can work 
us to his will, he will spare his blows. He hath as little delight in smiting 
as we in suffering ; nay, he suffers with us, condoling our estate as if it were, 
which caimot be, his own. ' For we have not a high priest which cannot 
be touched with the feeling of our infirmities,' Heb. iv. 1.'). He feels the 
griefs of his church : the head aches when the members siilTcr. I'ersccutors 
strike Christ through Christiana' sides. Saul strikes at Damascu.s, Chri.st. 



342 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

Jesus suffers in heaven. Mediately he is smitten, whiles the blows immedi- 
ately light on us. He could not, ' in that day of his flesh,' forbear bitter 
tears at Jerusalem's present sin and future judgment. How grievous is our 
iniquity, how gracious his longanimity ! He that weeps for our aversion 
passionately, desires our conversion unfeignedly. How pathetically he per- 
suadeth his church's reformation : ' Return, return, O Shulamite ! return, 
return ! ' Cant. vi. 1 2. How lamentingly deplores he Jerusalem's devastation : 
' If thou hadst known, at least in this thy day, the things that belong to thy 
peace !' Luke xix. 42. Let us not think liim like either of those mimics, the 
player or the hypocrite, (who truly act the j)art one of another, but hardly 
either of an honest man,) that can command tears in sport. When Christ 
laments the state either of our sins or ourselves, he shews that one is at the 
height of rising, the other near casting down. Christ's double sigh over Je- 
rusalem is, as I may say, fetched and derived from those double woes of 
hers : the immeasurable sin, ' that killest the prophets ;' the tmavoidable 
judgment, ' thy house is left unto thee desolate,' Matt, xxiii. 37. Ingentia 
benejicia, ingentia 2)eccata, ingentes poence, — Great benefits abused occasion 
great sins, and great sins are the forerunners of great plagues. Gaudet Deus 
in misericordia sua, dolet in miseria nostra, — He rejoiceth in his own good- 
ness, he grieveth at our wretchedness. 

Horrid and to be trembled at are the sins that bring heaviness into the 
courts of happiness, and send grievance to the very thresholds of joy. That 
whereas angels and cherubims, the celestial choristers, make music before the 
throne of God for the ' conversion of one sinner,' Luke xv. 10, — of one ! what 
would they do at the effectual success of such a sermon as Peter preached ? 
— they do, if I may speak, grieve and mourn at the aversion of our souls, so 
hopeful and likely to be brought to heaven, and at the aspiration of our 
climbing sins. 

But it may be questioned how God can be said to grieve, to complain, to 
be sorrowful for us. True it is that there is no passion in God. He that 
sits in heaven hath all pleasure and content in himself What is here spoken, 
is for our sakes spoken. He dwelleth in such brightness of glory as never 
mortal foot could approach unto ; the sight of his face is to us on earth in- 
sufferable ; the comprehension of the mvisible things in the Deity impossible. 
Therefore, to give some aim and conjecture to us what he is, he appears, as 
it were, transfigured into the likeness of our nature, and in our own familiar 
terms speaketh to our shallow understandings : hominem alloquens humano 
more loquitur, — as an old man speaking to a child frames his voice in a 
childish accent. Before a great vessel that is full, can pour liquor from itself 
into a little empty pot that stands under it, it must stoop and decline itself. 
Thus he descends to our capacities ; and that man may know him in some 
measure, he will be known as man. Sometimes by bodily members — eyes, 
ears, hands, feet. Sometimes by spiritual affections — anger, sorrow, jealousy, 
repentance. By which he signifies, not what he is indeed, but what is need- 
ful for us to know of him. For being well acquainted with the use, office, 
and effect of these natural things in ourselves, we may the better guess at 
the knowledge of that God to whom we hear them ascribed. All Avhich he 
hath per fig nr am, non naturain. Anger's effect in us is revenge. Nothing 
pleaseth a furious man's nature but wreaking himself on his provoker. The 
passion is anger, the effect revenge. Whiles God gives the second, we 
ascribe to him the first ; and call that in him torath, which properly is his 
Btnking justice. 

Complaints are the witness of a grieved soul : both are sufferings. God 



JeR. VIII. 22.] THE SINNER.S PASSING-BELL. 343 

is here said to complain. Why? he is giieved at our sins. Can he ho 
grieved indeed? No; uor need he complain that hath such power to right 
himself. Yet he is often said to be grieved, — ' Grieve not the Spirit of God, 
by whom you are sc;ded uj) to the day of redemption," JOph. iv. 30, — and 
here, to complain. To speak properly, God cannot complain, because ho 
cannot be grieved. He cannot be grieved, because he cannot sutler. Eveiy 
blow of ours, though we were as .strong and high as the sons of Anak, lights 
short of him. If some could have reached him, it had gone ill with him 
long ere this. All is spoken per avO^c^jTO'zadiiav. He is sine ira irascens, iine 
■poenitentia poemtens, sine dolore dolens, — angry without anger, grieving with- 
out sorrow. These passions are ascribed to him, ijiioad ejf'cctnm, mm <iHO(id 
affectum. They are perfections in liim, what are (iff'ertions in us. The com- 
plaint that once God made against a whole world, a.s he here doth against 
Israel, is expressed in more plain and significant terms : Gen. iv. G, ' It re- 
pented the Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at 
his heart.' God so complains against man's sin, that he is sorry that ho 
made him. This, saith Augustine,* no)i est pertnrhatio, sed judicium, f/uo 
irrogatur pofna, — It is no disturbance in God, but only his judgment, where- 
by he inflicts punishment. And further, P<enitndo Dei est mutandoruni 
immutabilis ratio, — God's repentance is his unchangeable disposition, in 
things of a changeable condition. It is mutatio rei, non Dei, — the change of 
tlie thing, not of God. Cum ii quos curat mutantur, mutat ipse res, prout 
iis expedit, quos curat,\ — He willeth an expedient alteration of things, ac- 
cording to the alteration of them for whom he provides. So God is .said to 
' rcitent that he made Saul king,' or that he threatened evil to Nineveh. In 
all which he changed, non affectum, sed pff'ectum, the external work, not his 
internal counsel. For as the school speaks, immutahiliter ir/noscit, he lui- 
changeably pardons whom he means to save, though they feel it not till con- 
version ; so immutabiliter non irjnoscit, he unchangeably retains their sins in 
his judgment-book which amend not, as Saul. 

The nature of repentance is sorrow : the effect of repentance is the ab- 
rogation of something determined, or undoing, if it be possible, of sonie- 
thhig done. Repentance is not in God, in regard of the original nature «>f 
it, — he cannot sorrow, — but is, in respect of the eventual fruit, when he de- 
stroys that world of people he had made. Not that his heart was grieved, 
but his hands : his justice and power undid it. Aliud est inutare votnutatem, 
aliiid velle mutati.onem, — It is one thuig to change the will, anotlier thing to 
will a change. There may be a change in the matter and substance willed, 
not in the will that disposeth it. Our will desires in the summer a lighter 
and cooler garment, in winter a thicker and warmer ; yet is not our will 
changed, whereby we decree in ourselves this change according to the .season. 
Thus, quicquid superi voluere, peractum, ' Whatsoever God would, that did 
he in heaven and earth, in the sea and all deep places,' Ps. cxxxv. G. God 
is immutabilis naturce, voluntatis, comilii, — unchangeable in his nature, will, 
and decrees. Only these are verba nostra; pnrvitati ao:ominodata,X — wonls 
fitted to our weak capacities. 

Well, in the meantime, they are grievous sins that make our gracious Gt>d 
thus seemingly pa.ssionate. There is great cause, sure, it .so patient and for- 
bsaring a God be angry, sorry, penitent, grieved that he hath jnade sncli re- 
bellious creatures. It is long before his wrath be inccn.sed ; but if it bo 
thoroughly kindled, all the rivers in the south are not able to quench it. 
Daily man sins, and yet God repents not that he made hiin. Woe to that 

* De Civit. Dei, lib. xv., cap. 25. t J"st. Mr»r. X Chrj-8. 



344 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

man for whose creation God is sorry ! Woe to Jerusalem, when Christ shall 
so complain against her ! Stay the bells, ye sons of wickedness, that ring so 
loud peals of tumultuous blasphemies in the ears of God. Turn again, ye 
wheeling planets, that move only as the sphere of this world turns your 
affections, and despise the directed and dii'ect motion of God's stars. Eecall 
yourselves, ye lost wretches, and stray not too far from your Father's house, 
that your seekers come again with a non est inventus ; lest God complain 
against you, as here against Israel, or with as passionate a voice as once 
against the world — ' It repeats me that I made them.' 

Ohs. 5. — If we take the words spoken in the person of the prophet, let us 
observe, that he is no good preacher that complains not in these sinful days. 
Isaiah had not more cause for Israel than we for England, to cry, ' We have 
laboured in vain, and spent our strength for nought,' chap. xlix. 4. For if 
we equal Israel in our blessings, we transcend them in our sins. The blood- 
red sea of war and slaughter, wherein other nations are drowned, as were 
the Egyptians, is become dry to our feet of peace. The bread of heaven, that 
true manna, satisfies our hunger, and our thirst is quenched with the waters 
of life. The better law of the gospel is given us ; and our saving health is 
not like a curious piece of arras folded up, but spread before our believing 
eyes, without any shadow cast over the beauty of it. We have a better 
High Priest, to make intercession for us in heaven, for whom he hath once 
sacrificed and satisfied on earth : actu, semel, virtute semper, — with one act, 
with everlasting virtue. We want nothing that heaven can help us to, but 
that which we voluntarily will want, and without which we had better have 
wanted all the rest — thankfulness and obedience. We return God not one 
for a thousand, not a dram of service for so many talents of goodaiess. We 
give God the worst of all things, that hath given us the best of all things. 
We cull out the least sheaf for his tithe, the sleepiest hours for his prayers, 
the chippings of our wealth for his poor, a corner of the heart for liis ark, 
when Dagou sits uppermost in our temple. He hath bowels of brass and a 
heart of iron, that cannot mourn at this our requital. We give God measure 
for measure, but after an ill manner. For his blessings, ' heapen, and shaken, 
and thrust together,' iniquities ' pressed down and yet running over.' Like 
hogs, we slaver his pearls, ' turn his graces into wantonness,' and turn again 
to rend in pieces the bringers. 

Who, versing in his mind this thought, can keep his cheeks diy 1 * Oh 
that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might 
weep night and day ! ' &c., Jer. ix. 1. No marvel if anirmis meminlsse horret, 
— the good soul tremble to think it ; especially when all this wickedness 
ariseth, not from Sodom, and Sidon, and Edom, but from the midst of * the 
daughter of Zion.' Hinc illce lachrpmv. He that can see this and not 
sigh, is not a witness, but an agent; and sin hath obstructed his lungs, he can- 
not sorrow. Forbear, then, ye captious sons of BcKal, to complain against 
us for conLplaining against you. While this hydra of iniquity puts forth 
her still-growing heads, and the sword of reproof cannot cut them off, what 
should we do but mourn 1 Quid enini nisi threnoi supermnt 1 Whither can 
we turn our eyes, but we behold and lament at once some roving with 
lewdness, some raving with madness, others reeling with ebriety, and yet 
others railing with blasphemy ! If we be not sad, we must be guilty. Con- 
demn not our passions, but your own rebellions that excite them. The zeal 
of our God, whom ' we serve in our spuits,' makes us, with Moses, to forget 
ourselves. ' We also are men of like passion with you,' Acts xiv. 15. It is 
the common plea of us all. If you ask us why we shew ourselves thus 



Jer. VIII. 22.] THE sinner's passing-bell. 34j 

weak, we return, with Paul, ' Why do you these things ? ' Our God hath 
charged us not to see the funerals of your souls without sighs and tears : 
Ezek. vL 11, 'Thus saith the Lord, Smite with thy hand, and stamp with 
thy foot, and say, Alas for all the evil abominations of the house of Israel ! 
for they shall fall by the sword, by the famine, and by the pestilence.' 

Shall all complain of lost labours, and we brook the greatest loss with 
silence ? Merchants bewail the shipwreck of their goods, and comi)lain of 
pirates ; shepherds, of their flocks devoured by savage wolves ; husbandmen, 
of the tired earth, that quits their hope with weeds : and shall ministers see 
and not sorrow for the greatest ruin (the loss of the world were less) of men's 
souls ! They that have written to the life the downfall of famous cities, 
either vastate by the immediate hand of God, as Sodom, or by man, a.s 
Jerusalem, as if they had written with tears instead of ink, have pathetically 
lamented the ruins. ^Eneas Sylvius, reporting the fall of Constantiiuiple, 
historifics, together with her passion, his own compassion for it. The mur- 
dering of children before their parents' faces, the slaughtering of nobles like 
beasts, the priests torn in pieces, the religious flayed, the holy virgins and 
sober matrons first ravished and then massacred, and even the relics of tho 
soldiers' spoil given to the merciless fire. miseram urbisfdciem! — O 
wretched show of a miserable city ! Consider Jerusalem, the city of God, 
* the queen of the provinces, tell her turrets, and mark well her bulwarks,' 
carry in your mind the idea of her glories ; and then, on a sudden, behold 
her temple and houses burning, the smoke of the fire waving m the air and 
hiding the light of the sun, the flames springing up to heaven, as if they 
would ascend as high as their sins had erst done ; her old, young, matrons, 
virgins, mothers, infants, princes and priests, prophets and Nazarites, famished, 
fettered, scattered, consumed ; if ever you read or hear it without com- 
miseration, your hearts are harder than the Romans that destroyed it. The 
ruin of great things wrings out our pity ; and it is only a Nero that can sit 
and sing while Rome burns. But Avhat are a world of cities, nay, the whole 
world itself burning, as it must be one day, to the loss of men's souls the 
rarest pieces of God's fabric on earth ! To see them manacled with the 
chains of iniquity, and led uf) and do\^^J by the devil, as Bajazet by that 
cruel Scythian ; stabbed and massacred, lost and ruined by rebellious obsti- 
nacies and impenitences ; bleeding to death like IJabel, and will not be cured, 
till past cure they weep like Rachel, and Mill not be comforted; to sec this 
and not pity it, is impossible for any but a Faux, but a devil. 

Use 1. — To make some further use hereof to ourselves ; let us avoid sin 
as much as we may. And, though we cannot .stay ourselves from going in, 
let us stay ourselves from going on ; lest our God complain against us. If 
Ave make him sorrowful for a time, he can make us sorrowful for ever. If 
we anger him, he can anger all the veins of our hearts. If, instead of serving 
God by our obedience, we ' make him serve with our sins,' Isa. .\liii. 24, ho 
will make us serve with Ins jilagues. If we drive God to call a ((tiivocation 
of heaven and earth : ' Iie;ir, G heaven ; hearken, O earth : I have nourished 
children, and they have rebelled against me,' I.«a. i. 2 ; if he rail on 'the 
mountains to hear his controversy,' Micah vi. 2, he will make us 'call on the 
mountains' to help and hide our miser}', Rev. vi. IG, 'And they said to 
the mountains and rock.s, Fall on u.s,' itc. If we put God to his (finrelam, 
controversy, and make him a plaintifl", to enter his suit ai^ainst u.s, Ho.sra 
iv. 1, he will put us to a complaint indeed. 'Therefore shall the land mouni, 
and every one that dwollpth thrroin .shall languish,' ver. .3. lb- will force us 
to repent the time and deeds, that ever made him to ' repent that he made 



346 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

us,' Gen. vi. 7, He will strike us with such a blow that there needeth no 
doubling of it. ' He will make an utter end ; destruction shall not rise up 
the second time,' Nahum i. 9. As Abishai would have stricken Saul at once : 
' And I will not smite him the second time,' 1 Sam. xxvi. 8. 

We cannot so wrong God, that he is deprived of jjower to right himself. 
His first complaint is, as I may say, in tears ; his second in blood. I have 
read of Tamerlane, that the first day of his siege was honoured with his 
white colours, the second with fatal red, but the third with final black. God 
is not so quick and speedy in punishment, nor come his judgments with such 
precipitation. Nineveh, after so many forties of years, shall have yet forty 
days. He that at last came, with his fixii in his hand, and fanned but eight 
grains of good corn out of a whole barnfnl of chaff, a whole world of people, 
gave them the space of one hundred and twenty years' repentance. If Jeru- 
salem Avill not hear Christ's words, they shall feel his hands. They that are 
deaf to his voice shall not be insensible to his blows. He that may not be 
heard will be felt. 

Use 2. — If God complains against sin, let us not make ourselves merry 
with it. The mad humours, idle speeches, outrageous oaths of drunken 
atheists, are but ill mirth for a Christian spirit. Wickedness in others 
abroad should not be our tabret to play upon at home. It is a wretched 
thing to laugli at that which feasts Satan with mirtli, laughing both at our 
sins, and at us for our sins. Rather lament : ' Make little weeping for the 
dead, for he is at rest : but the life of the fool is worse than death,' Ecclus. 
xxii. 11. Weep for that. When Israel now in Moses's absence had turned 
beast, and calved an idolatrous image, Moses did not dance after their pipe, 
and laugh at their superstitious merriment with tabrets and harps, but 
mourned to the Lord for them, and pleaded as hard for their sparing as he 
would have done for himself ; nay more, ' Spare thy own people, though 
thou rase my name out of the book of life.' They are only marked for 
God's, with his own privy seal, Ezek. ix. 6, that ' mourned for the abomina- 
tions of Israel ;' and their mournings were earnest, as the wailings of Hadad- 
rimmon in the valley of Megiddo. 

Where are you, ye ' sons of the highest,' ye magistrates, put in power not 
only to lament our sins, but to take away the cause of our lamenting 1 Cease 
to beek yourselves, like Jehoiachim, bcft)re the fire of case and rest ; rend your 
clothes with Josiah, and wrap yourselves in sackcloth, like Nineveh's kmg, 
as a corpse laid out for burial. Do not, Felix-like, grope for a bribe in cri- 
minal offences ; sell not your connivance, and withal your conscience, where 
you should give your punishment. Let not gold weigh heavier than Na- 
both's wrongs in the scales of justice. ' Weep, ye ministers, between the 
porch and the altar.' Lament your own sins, ye inhabitants of the world. 
England, be not behind other nations in mourning, that art not short of them 
in oifending. Picligion is made biit policy's stirrup, to get up and ride on 
the back of pleasure. Nimrod and Ahithophel lay their heads and hands 
together ; and whiles the one forageth the park of the church, the other 
pleads it from his book, with a Statutum est. The Gibeonites are suffered in 
our camp, though we never clapped them the hand of covenant ; and are not 
set to draw water and chop Avood, to do us any service, except to cut our 
throats. The receipt (1 had almost said the deceit) of custom stands open, 
maldiig the law's toleration a warrant, that many now sell their lands, and 
live on the use of their moneys ; which none would do if usury was not an 
easier, securer, and more gainful trade. 

How should this make us mourn like doves, and groan like turtles ! The 



Ji:r.. VIIT. 22.] the sinnkr's passing-bkll. 317 

wild swallows, our unbridled youngsters, sing in the wanu chimneys ; the 
lustful sparrows, noctivagant adulterers, sit chirping about our houses ; the 
tilchiug jays, secret thieves, rob our orchards ; the kite and the cormorant 
devour and hoard our fruits ; and shall not, among all tlifso, ' the voice of 
the turtle be heard in our land,' Cant. ii. 12, mourning for these sinful 
rapines ? Have whoredom and wine so taken away our hearts, and hidden 
them in a maze of vanities, that repentance cannot find them out I Can 
these enormities pass without our tears] Good men have not spent all 
their time at home in mourning for their own sins ; sometimes they have 
judged it their work to lament what was others' work to do. That kingly 
prophet, that wept so plentifully for his own offences, Pa. vL G, had yet Hoods 
of tears left to bewaU his people's, Ps. cxix. 130. Jeremiah did not oidy 
' weep in secret' for Israel's pride, chap. xiiL 17, but wrote a whole book of 
Lamentations ; and was not le.ss exact in his method of mourning, than others 
have been in their songs of joy. It was God's behest to Ezekiel, chap. xxi. 
6, ' Sigh, thou son of man, with the breaking of thy loins, and with bitter- 
ness sigh before their eyes.' He mounied not alone at Israel's woe. She 
had a solemn funeral, and ever}- prophet sighed for her. ' Look away from 
me,' saith Isaiah ; ' I will weep bitterly, labour not to comfort me, because of 
the spoiling of the daughter of my people,' chai;. xxiL 4. ' I am pained at 
my very heart,' saith Jeremiah, ' becau.s* thou hast heard, O my soul, tho 
sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war,' chap. iv. 19. Our sins are more ; 
why should our sorrows be less ? 

Who sees not, and says not, that ' the days are evil V Eph. v. 16. There 
is one laying secret mines to blow up another, that himself may succeed ; 
there is another buying uncertain hopes with ready money \ there is another 
rising hardly to eminence of place, and managing it as madly. There goes 
a fourth, poring on the ground, as if he had lost his soul in a muck-heaj), and 
must scrape for it ; yet I think he would hardly take so much pains for his 
soul as he doth for his gold, were it there to be found and saved. He that 
comes to this market of vanity but as a looker-on, cannot lack trouble. 
Every evil we see doth either vex us or infect us. The sight and inevitable 
society of evils is not more a plea.sure to the Sodomites than a vexation to 
the righteous soul of Lot. One breaks jests upon heaven, and makes him- 
self merry with God. Another knows no more Scripture than he ajtplies to 
the theatre ; and doth as readily and desperately play wilh God's word a.s with 
the poets. You cannot walk the street but you shall meet with a (luarrelling 
dog, or a drunken hog, or a blaspheming devil. One speaks villany, another 
swears it, a third defends it, and all the rest laugh at it : that we may t;iko 
cresset-light, and search with Jeremiah, chap. v. 1, tho 'streets and broad 
places of our country,' and not ' find a man,' or at least not ' a man of truth.' 
Who can say it can be wor.se ? Cease complaints, and fall to amendment. 
Ye deputies of Mose-s, and sons of Levi, sharpen both your swi^rd.s. Conse- 
crate and courage your hands and voices to the vastation of Jericho- wall.s. 
Be not unmerciful to your countr}', whiles you are over-merciful to otfondens. 
An easy cost repairs the beginning ruins of a house ; when it is once droi)iKMi 
down with danger about our earn, it is hardly re-edified. Seasonable «isti- 
gation may work reasonable reforming. The rents and breaches of our Zion 
are manifold and manifest. Repair them by the word of men;y and .sword 
of justice. If Jerusalem's roof be cist down as low as Iut pavement, who 
shall build her up ? It is yet time, and not more than enough. If you can- 
not turn the violent stream of our wickedness, yet swim against it yourselyes- 
and provoke others by your precepts, by your i»attcrn3 : the success to God. 



3'18 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

Use 3. — The all-wise God complains. He doth no more; what could ha 
do less ? He doth not bitterly inveigh, but passionately mourn for us. He 
speaks not with gall, but as it were with tears. There is sweet mercy even 
in his chidings. He teacheth us a happy composure of our reprehensions. 
We are of too violent a spirit, if at least we ' know what spirit we are of,' 
when nothing can content us but fire from heaven. He that holds the fires 
of heaven in his commanding hand, and can pour them in floods on rebellious 
Sodom, holds back his arm, and doth but gently loosen his voice to his 
people. I know there is a time when the ' still voice ' that came to Elias, 
or the whisperings of that ' voice behind, This is the way, walk in it,' Isa. 
XXX. 21, can do little good ; and then God is content we should derive from 
his throne thunderings and lightnings. Rev. iv. 5, and louder sounds. The 
hammer of the law must eftsoons break the stony heart of rebellion ; and 
often the sweet balm of the gospel must supple the broken conscience. Let 
us not transpose or invert the method and direction of our office, killing the 
dying with the ' killing letter,' and preaching 'judgment without mercy,' lest 
we reap judgment without mercy to ourselves. Some men's hearts are like 
nettles ; if you touch them but gently they will sting, but rough handling is 
without prejudice; whiles others are like briars, that wound the hard-grasp- 
ing hand of reproof, but yield willingly to them that touch them with ex- 
hortation. One must be washed with gentle baths, whiles another must 
have his ulcers cut with lancets. Only do all medentis animo, nou scevientis, 
— not with an oblique and sinister purpose, but with a direct intention to save. 
An odious, tedious, endless inculcation of things doth often tire those with, 
whom a soft and short reproof would find good impression. Such, whiles 
they would intend to edify, do in event tedify. Indeed there is no true zeal 
"without some spice of anger ; only suhsit iracnndia, non prcesit* — give thy 
anger due place, that it may follow as a servant, not go before as a master. 

It is objected that the thoughts of God are peace. He that is covered 
with thunder and clothed with lightning speaks, and the earth trembles; 
' toucheth the mountains, and they smoke ' for it, Ps. xviii. ; sharpens not 
his tongue like a razor, but speaks by mournful complaint. What then mean 
our preachers to lift up their voices as trumpets, and to speak in the tune 
of thunder against us 1 We cannot wear a garment in the fashion, nor take 
use for our money, nor drink with a good-fellow, nor strengthen our words 
with the credit of an oath, but bitter invectives must be shot, like porcupines' 
quills, at these slight scapes. I answer, God knows when to chide, and when 
to mourn ; when to say, ' Get thee behind me, Satan,' as to Peter, Matt. xvi. 
23, and when coolly to tax Jonah, ' Dost thou well to be angry V Jonah iv. 4. 
But he that here mourns for Israel degenerate, doth at another time protest 
against Israel apostate, and ' swears they shall never enter into his rest,' Ps. 
xcv. 11. We would fain do so too ; I mean, speak nothing but 'grace and 
peace to you ;' but if ever we be thorns, it is because we live amongst briars : 
if we lift up our voices, it is because your hearts are so sleepy that you would 
not else hear us. 

Use 4. — God did thus complain against Israel ; where are his complaints, 
you will say, against us 1 Sure our sins are not grown to so proud a height 
as to threaten heaven, and provoke God to quarrel. O ill-grounded flat- 
tery of ourselves ! an imagination that adds to the measure of our sins. 
Whiles we conceive our wickedness less, even this conceit makes it somewhat 
more. ' If we say that we have no sin, there is no truth in us,' 1 John i. 8. 
Nothing makes our guilt more palpable than the pleading ourselves not culp- 
* Greg. 



JkR. YIII. 22.] THE sinner's PASSING-I3ELL. 349 

able. Every drop of this counterfeit lioly water .sj>rinkletl on us brings new 
asi)crsions of filthiness. It is nothing else but to wash our spots in nunl. 
Yet speak freely. Doth not Gdd complain? Examine, (1.) The words of 
his mouth ; (2.) The works of his hand. 

(1.) The voice of his minister is his voice. ' He that heareth you heareth 
me.' Do not the Jeremiahs of these days mouni like turtles, as well a.s sing 
like larks 1 Do they not mingle with the tunes of joy, the tones of sorrow ? 
When did they rejoice ever without trembling ] Vs. ii. 11; or lead you so 
currently to dance in God's sunshine, that they forgot to speak of his thun- 
der ? It is good to be merry and wise. What sermon ever so flattered you 
with the fair weather of God's mercies, that it told you not withal, wla-n the 
wind and the sun meets there would be rain; wlien God's sunUke justice 
and our raging and boisterous iniquities shall come in ojiposition, the storm 
of judgment will ensue 1 Nay, have not your iniquities made the pulpit, the 
gospel's mercy-seat, a tribunal of judgment / 

(2.) Will not these mournings, menaces, querulatioius, stir your hcart.s, 
because they are derived from God through us, his organ-pipes, as if they 
had lost their vigour by the way ? Then open your eyes, you that have 
deafed your ears, and see him actually complaining against us. Observe at 
least, if not the thunders of his voice, yet the wonders of his hand I could 
easily lose myself in this commonplace of judgments. I will therefore 
limit my speech to narrow bounds, and only call that to our memories, the 
print whereof sticks in our sides; God having taught nature even \>y her 
good to hurt, as some wa.sli gold to deprave the weight of it, even to drain 
away our fruits by floods. But, alas ! we say of these strokes, as the phllo.so- 
j)her in one sense, and Solomon's drunkard in another, JVon vianini me per- 
cussu7n, — We remember not that we are stricken ; or as the prophet of the 
Jews, ' Thou hast smitten them, but they have not grieved ; thou hast con- 
sumed them, but they have refused to receive correction,' Jer. v. 3 ; even 
Avhiles their wounds were yet raw, and their ruins not made up. Many are 
like the Stoics in equideo ; though the punishment lie on their flesh, it sliall 
not come near their heart. God would school our heavy-spirited and coldly- 
devoted worldlings, that ' sacrifice to their nets,' Hab. i. 10, attribute all their 
thrivuig to their own industry, and never enter that thought on the point of 
their hearts, how they are beholden to God. Here, alas ! we find that we 
are beholden to the com and other fruits of the earth, they to the ground^ 
the ground to the influences of heavc;i, all to God, Hos. ii. 21. 

When man hath done all in iiloughing, tilling, sowing, if either the clouds 
of heaven deny their rain, or give too nmch, how soon is all lost ! The 
husbandman, that w^as wont to ' wait for the early and latter showers,' James 
V. 7, now casts up trembling eyes to the cloutls for a ne noceant. For your 
barns full of weeds, rather than grain,* testify that this blow did not only spoil 
the glory and benefit of your meadows, but even by rebound your cornfields 
also, lie not atheists, look higher than the clouds ; it was no less than the 
angry hand of God. Thus can God every way punLsh us. It was for a time 
the speech of all tongues, amazement of all eyes, wonder of all hearts, to see 
the showers of wrath so fast pouring on us, as if the course of nature were 
inverted, our summer coming out in the robes of winter. 15ut as a father t 
•writes of such a year : ' Our devotions began and ended with the shower.' 

' Nocte pluit tota, redeiint spectacula maiu'.' X 

It rains, and we lament. But the sun did not sooner break out through the 

* This wet summer, anu. 1013. Chrys. J Virg. 



350 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

clouds, than we broke out into our former licentiousness. We were humbled, 
but not humble ; dressed of God, not cured. Though God withhold plenty, 
we withhold not gluttony. Pride leaves off none of her vanities. Usury 
bates not a cross of liis interest. The rioter is still as drunken with wine 
as the earth was with water. And the covetous had still rather ' eat up the 
poor as bread,' than they should eat of his bread ; keeping his barns full, 
though their maws be empty, as if he would not let the vermin fast, though 
the poor starve. No marvel if heaven itself turns into languishment for 
these impieties. 

* Die, rogo, cur toties descendit ab sethere nimbus, 
Grandoque de cojlis sine fine cadit ? 
Mortales quoniam nolunt sua crimina flere, 
Ccelum pro nobis solvitur in lachrymas.' 

' What mean those airy spouts and spongy clouds 
To spill themselves on earth with frequent floods f 
Because man swelling sins and dry eyes bears, 
They weep for us, and rain down showers of tears.' 

Ohs. 6. — God hath done, for his part, enough for Israel. He hath stored 
their vials with balm, their cities with physicians. It was then their own 
fault that their health was not recovered. ' Israel, thou hast destroyed 
thyself, but in me is thine help,' Hos. xiii. 9. Let even the inhabitants of 
Jerusalem and Judah themselves be umpires. ' And what could I have done 
more to my vineyard, that I have not done in it 1 ' Isa. v. 4, Matt. xxi. 33. 
God is not sparing in the commemoration of his mercies to us, as knowing 
that of all the faculties of the soul the memory fii'st waxeth old, and of aU 
objects oT the memory a benefit is soonest forgotten. We write man's inju- 
ries to us in marble, but God's mercies in dust or waters. We had need of 
remembrancers. God hath done so much for us, that he may say to us, as 
once to Ephraim, ' O Ephraim, what shiiU I do (more) unto thee ? ' Hos. vi. 
9. What could Israel want which God supplied not 1 If they want a guide, 
God goes before them in fire. If they lack bread, flesh, or drink, mercy and 
miracle shall concur to satisfy them. Heaven shall give them bread, the 
wind quails, and the rock waters. Doth the wilderness deny them new 
clothes ? Their old shall not wax old on their backs. A law from heaven 
shall direct their consciences, and God's oracles from between the cherubims 
."hall resolve their doubts. If they be too weak for their enemies, fire from 
heaven, vapours from the clouds, frogs and caterpillars, sun, air, waters, shaU 
take their parts. Nay, God himself shall fight for them. What could God 
do more for their presei-vation 1 

If I should set the mercies of our land to run along with Israel's, we should 
gain cope of them, and outrun them. And though in God's actual and out- 
ward mercies they might outstrip us, yet in his spiritual and saving health 
they come short of us. They had the shadow, we the substance : they 
candle-light, we noon-day : they the breakfast of the law, fit for the morning 
of the world ; we the dinner of the gospel, fit for the high noon thereof They 
liad a glimpse of the sun, we have him in his full strength ; they saw per 
fenestram, we sine medio. They had the paschal lamb to expiate sins cere- 
nionially, we the Lamb of God to satisfy for us really ; not a ty2)ical sacri- 
fice for the sins of the Jews only, but an evangelical, ' taking away the sins 
of the world,' John i. 29 ; for this is that secret opposition which that voice 
of a crier intimates. Now what could God do more for us ? Israel is stung 
with fiery serpents; behold the erection of a strangely medicinal serpent of 
brass. So (besides the spiiitual application of it) the plague hath stricken 



Jkr. VIII. 22.] THE sinner's passing-bell. 351 

us, that have .stricken God by our sin.s ; his iiuToy hath liealcd ua Hu- 
mours of war hath hummed iu our ears the imuuiurs of terror ; behold he 
could not set his blootly foot iu f>ur coasts. Tiie rod of famine hath been 
shaken over us ; we have not smarted with the deadly lashi-s of it. Even 
that we have not been thus miserable, God hath done nuich for us. 

Look round about you, and whiles you quake at the plagues so natural to 
our neighbours, bless your own safety and our God for it. Behold the con- 
fines of Christendom, Hungary and Bohemia, infested and wasted with the 
Turks ; Italy groaning under the slavery of Antichrist, which infects the soul 
worse than the Turk infests the body. Behold the pride of Spain, curbed 
with a bloody Inquisition ; France, a fair and nourishing kingdom, made 
wretched by her civil uncivil wars. Germany knew not of long time what 
peace meant ; neither is their war ended, but suspended. Ireland hath felt 
the perpetual plague of her rebellions ; and Scotland hath not wanted her 
fatal disasters. Only England hath lain, like Gideon's Heece, dry and secure, 
when the rain of judgments hath wetted the whole earth. When God hath 
tossed the nations, and made them ' like a wheel,' and ' as the stubble before 
the wind,' Ps. Ixxxiii. 13, only England that hath stood like Mount Zion, 
with unmoved firmness. Time was she petitioned to Home ; now she neither 
fears her bulls nor desires lier bulwarks. The destitute Britons thus mourned 
to their conquering Komans : j£iio ter coiisidi geniUus Britannorum. Jie- 
pellunt nos barbari ad viare ; repellit nos mare ad bavbaros. llinc onuntur 
duo fanerum (jenera ; qida aut jugidamur aut submergimur ; — To the liomaa 
consul the Britons send groaning, instead of greeting. The barbarous drive 
us upon the sea ; the sea beats us back upon the barbarous. Hence we are 
endangered to a double kind of death ; either to be drowned or to have our 
throats cut. The barbarous are now unfeared enemies, and the sea is rather 
our fort than our sepulchre. A peaceful prince leads us, and the ' Prince of 
peace ' leads him. And besides our peace, we are so hapi>y for balm and 
physicians, that if I should sing of the blessings of God to us, this should 
still be the burden of my song, ' What could the Lord do more for us I ' 

Obs. 7. — ' There is balm inGilcad, there arc physicians there.' Will there 
be ever so? Is there not a time to lose as well as to get? If whiles the 
sanctuary is full of this holy balm, God's word ; if whiles there is plenty 
of physicians, and in them plenty of skill, 'the health ()f I>rael Is not 
restored,' how dangerous will her sickness be in the privation of both these 
restoratives ? They that grow not rich in peace, what will they do in war? 
He that cannot live well in summer, will hanlly scape starving in winter. 
Israel, that once had her cities sown with prophets, could after .say, ' We see 
not our signs, there is not one prophet among u.s.' They that whilom 
loathed manna, would have been glad if, after nuiny a weary mile, they 
could have tasted the crumbs of it. He whose prodigality scornc-l the 
' bread in his father's house,' would afterwards have thought himself refreshed 
with ' the husks for the swine.' i 

The sun doth not ever shine ; there is a time of setting. No day of jollity 
is without his evening of conclusion, if no cloud of disturbance prevent it 
with an overcasting. First God ci)in!>lains, men suig, dance, are jovial and 
neglectful; at la.st man shall complain, and * God shall laugh at their de- 
structions.' Why should God be conjured to receive that spirit dyiii- that 
would not receive God's Spirit living ? All things are whirkd about iii their 
circular courses, and who knows whether the ne.\t spol.e of their wheel will not 
be a blank ? ' Even in laughter the heart is .sorrowful, and the end of that 
mirth is heavhiess,' Prov. xiv. 13. If the black stones of I'ur miseries should 



352 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

be counted with the white of our joys, we should find our calamities exceed- 
ing in number as well as they do in measure. Often have we read our 
Saviour weeping, but never laughing. We cannot choose but lament, so long 
as we walk on the banks of Babylon. It is enough to reassume our harps, 
when we come to the high Jerusalem. In heaven are pure joys, in hell mere 
miseries, on earth both, (though neither so perfect,) mixed one with another. 
We cannot but acknowledge that we begin and end with sorrow ; our first 
voice being a cry, our last a groan. If any joys step in the midst, they do 
but present themselves on the stage, play their parts, and put ofi" their glo- 
ries. Successively they both thrust upon us, striving either who shall come 
in first OT abide with us longest. If any be more dainty of our acquaint- 
ance, it is joy. It is a frequent speech, Faimus Troes, — We have been happy. 
Cum miserum quenquam videris, scias eum esse hominem : cum vero gloriosum, 
scias eum nondum esse Hercidem, — If thou seest one miserable, that is a man; 
but if thou seest another glorying, yet that is no god. There is no prescrip- 
tion of perpetuity. 

It is enough for the songs of heaven, where saints and seraphims ate the 
choristers, to have no burden, as no end belonging to them. Let that be the 
' standing house,' John xiv. 2, where the princes of God shall keep their 
court, without grief or treason : our progress can plead no such privilege. 
We must glad ourselves here with the intermission of woes or interposition 
of joys : let that place above challenge and possess that immunity from dis- 
turbance, where eternity is the ground of the music. Here every day is sure 
of his night, if not of clouds at noon. Therefore mutet vitam, qui vult acci- 
pere vitam, — let him change his life on earth, that looks for life in heaven. 

* Tu quamcunque Deus tibi fortunaverit lioram, 
Grata sume manu, nee dulcia difler in annum ; ' — * 

Take the opportunity which God's mercy hath offered thee. It is fit that 
God should have his day, when thine is past. 'Your salvation is now 
nearer ' than you believe it ; but if you put away this ' acceptable time,' your 
damnation is nearer than you fear it. Mourn now for your sins, whiles your 
mourning may help you, Ezek. ix. Thau is the mourner's mark, yet the 
last letter of the al2)habet, for an tdtimum vale to sin. Every soul shall 
mourn either here with repentance, or hereafter in vengeance. They shall 
be oppressed with desperation that have not admitted contrition. Herodotus 
hath a tale of the piper, that, coming to the river-side, began to play to the 
fishes, to see if they would dance. When they were little affected with his 
lUusic, he took his net, and throwing it among them, caught some ; which 
were no sooner cast on the dry ground but they fell a-leaping ; to whom the 
piper merrily re])lied, that since they had erst scorned his music, they should 
now dance without a pipe. Let it go for a fable. Christ saith to us, as once 
to the Jews, ' We have piped to you the sweet tunes of the gospel, but ye 
would not danc| in obedience;' time will come you shaU run after us, as 
the hind on the barren mountains ; but then you may dance without a pipe, 
and leap levoltoes in hell, that have danced sin's measures on earth. This is 
the time ; you shall hardly lay the spirit of ruin which your sins have raised. 
This world is a witch, sin her circle, temptation her charm, Satan the spirit 
conjured up, who comes not in more plausible forms at his first appearance, 
th m shews ugly and terrible when you would have him depart. Have 
nothing to do with the spells of sin, lest you pull in Satan with one hand, 
whom with both you cannot cast out. The door is now open, grace knocks 
* Hor. 



Jer. VIII. 22.] THE sinner's passing-bell. 353 

at thy sleepy conscience, time runs by thee as a lackey, many things proffer 
their help. If all these concurrences do no good to purge thy soul, thou wilt 
at last dwell at the sign of the Lahour-in-vai/i, and at once be washed white 
with the Moor. For, 'if any will be unjust, let him bo unjust; if he will 
be filthy, let him be filthy still,' Rev. xxii. 11. If any man go into captivity, 
let him go. As he in the comedy, abeat, pereat, profundat, perdat, — let him 
sink, or swim, or scape as he can. God will renounce whom he could not 
reclaim. 

01$. 8. — Lastly, observe, there is balm and physicians. What is the reiuson, 
saith God, that 'my people's health is not recovered,' or, as the Hebrew 
phrase is, ' gone up V The like is used in 2 Chron. xxiv. 13, where the heal- 
ing of the breaches of Zion is specified : ' So the workmen wrought, and 
the work was perfected by them,' — Ueh., 'The healing went up upon the 
•work.' When a man is sick, he is, in our usual phrase, said to be cast 
down. His recovery is the raishig him up again. Israel Is cast down with 
a voluntary sickness ; God sends her physicians of his own, and drugs from 
the shop of heaven ; why is she not then revived, and her health gone up ] 
W^ould you know why Israel is not recovered by these helps ] Let your 
meditations go along with me, and I will shew you the reasons w'hy God's 
physic works not on her : — 

(1.) She knew not her own sickness. We say, the first step to health is 
to know that we are sick. The disease being known, it is half cured. This 
is the diSerence betwixt a fever and a lethargy : the one angers the sense, 
but doth keep it quick, tender, and sensible ; the other obstupefies it. The 
lethargised is not less sick because he complains not so loud as the aguish. 
He is so much the nearer his own end, as he knows not that his disease is 
begun. Israel was sick, and knew it not ; or, as Christ said of the Tharisees, 
would not know it. There is no surer course for the devil to work his plea- 
sure on men than to keep them in ignorance. How easily doth that thief 
rob and spoil the house of our souls, when he hath first put out the candle 
of knowledge ! That tyrannical Nebuchadnezzar carries many a Zedekiah 
to his infernal Babel w^en he hath put out his eyes. No marvel ' if the gos- 
pel be hid to them ' that are hid to it : ' Whose minds the god of this world 
hath blinded, lest the light of the glorious gospel of God should shine to 
them,' 2 Cor. iv. 3, 4. Who wonders if the blind man cannot see the shuiing 
sun 1 When Antiochus entered to the spoU of the sanctuary, the first tlungs 
he took away were the golden altar and the candlestick of light, 1 ^Macc. i. 
21. When the devU comes to rifle God's spiritual temple, man's soul, the 
first booty that he lays his sacrilegious hands on are sacrifice and knowledge, 
the altar and the lamp. That subtle falconer knows that he could not so 
quietly carry us on his fist, without baiting and striving against him, if we 
were not hooded. 

Thus wretched is it for a man not to see Lis wretchedness. Such a one 
spends his days in a dream ; and goes from earth to hell, as Jonah from 
Israel toward Tarshish, fast asleep. This Paid calls the 'cauterised con- 
science;' which when the devil, an iir surgeon, would scar up, he first casts 
his patient into a mortiferous sleep. And, that all the noise which God makes 
by his ministers, by his menaces, by his judgments, might not waken him, 
Satan gives him some opium, an ounce of securitj', able to cast Samson liim- 
self into a slumber, especially when he may lay his voluptuous head on the 
lap of Delilah. Israel is then sick in sin, and yet thinks herself righteous. 
Every sin is not this sickness, but only wickedness ; a habit and delightful 
custom in it. For as to a healthful man every ache, or grip, or pang Is felt 
VOL. 1. z 



354 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Skkmon XX. 

grievous, whiles the sicldy entertain them with no great notice, as being 
daily guests : so the good man finds his repentant heart griped with the 
least offence, whiles great sins to the wicked are no less portable than fami- 
liar. Neither doth their strength in sin grow weaker with their strength in 
age ; but preposterously to nature, the older, the stronger. And as it is 
storied of Roman MUo, that being accustomed a boy to bear a calf, was able, 
himself grown a man, to bear the same, being grown a bull ;* so these, that 
in youth have wonted themselves to the load of less sins, want not increase 
of strength according to the increase of their burdens. 

(2.) As Israel did not judge from the cause to the effects, so nor from the 
effects to the cause. For though she was now grievously pained and pined 
with misery, she forgot to go down by the boughs to the root, and dig out 
the ground of her calamity. Ill she was, and that at heart. God's sword 
from heaven had stroke their very flesh and sinews in several judgments, 
which came on them by short incursions before he joined the main battle of 
his wrath. Israel cries out of her bowels, ' she is pained at the very heart,' 
Jer. iv. 19. Her children went with clean teeth, lank cheeks, hollow and 
sunk eyes. Could she not guess at the cause of tliis bodily languishment ? 
So Paul schooled his Corinthians : ' For this cause many are weak and sickly 
among you, and many sleep,' 1 Cor. xi. 30. There is no weakness but ori- 
gmaUy proceeds from wickedness. As Mephibosheth caught his lameness 
by falling from his nurse, so every one taketh his illness by falling from 
his Christ, Though sickness may be eventually a token of love, yet it is 
properly and originally a stroke of justice. For every disease God inflicts 
on us is a sermon from heaven, whereby he preacheth to us the vUeness of 
our sins, and his wrathful displeasure for them ; that those whom God's 
vocal sermon cannot move, his actual and real may pierce. Indeed 'all 
things shall work to their good,' Rom. viii. 28, that are good. And the 
rough rocks of affliction shall bring them, as Jonathan to the garrison of the 
Philistines, by those stairs to glory. Miseries do often help a man to mer- 
cies. So the leper's incurable disease brought him to the physician of his 
soul. Matt. viii. 2, where he had both cured by one plaster, the saving word of 
Christ. A weak body may help us to a strong faith. ' It was good for me,' 
saith the Psalmist, ' that I was in trouble.' It was good for Naaman that 
he was a leper : this brought him to Elisha, and Elisha to God, 2 Kings v. 
It was good for Paul that he was buffeted by Satan. It is proverbially spoken 
of a grave divine, that, as pride makes sores of salves, so faith makes salves 
of sores, and, like a cunning apothecary, makes a medicinal composition of 
some hurtful simples. Of all herbs in the garden, only rue is the herb of 
grace. And in what garden the rue of affliction is not, all the flowers of 
grace will be soon overrun with the weeds of impiety. David Avas a sinner in 
prosperity, a saint in purgatory. The afflicted soul drives vanity from his 
door. Prosperity is the playhouse, adversity the temple. Rarce fnmant feli- 
cibus arce, — The healthy and wealthy man brings seldom sacrifices to God's 
altar. Israel's misery had been enough to help her recovery, if she had 
gathered and understood her offence to God by God's visitation on her, and 
guessed the soul's state by the body's. She did not ; therefore her sickness 
abides. As Christ to the Pharisees : * You say you sec ; therefore be blind 
still.' 

(3.) As she did neither directly feel it, nor circumstantially collect it, so she 
never confessed it. Prima pars sanitatis est, velle sanari,f — The first entrance 
to our healing is our own will to be healed. How shall Christ either search 
• Gc'Uiu.s, lib. XV. t Sen. 



Ter. VIII. 22.] THE sinner's passing-bell. 355 

our sins by the law, or salve tlicm by the gospel, when we not acknowledge 
them? Ipse sibi denegat curam, qui medico non 2}ullicat causam* — He 
hath no care of his own cure tliat will not tell the physician his grief. What 
spiritual physician shall recover our persons, when we will not discover our 
sores'? Stultorum incnrala puJor 7}ialiis ^dcera celat, — Lay the guilt on 
yourselves, if you rankle to death. It is heavy in thy friends' ears, to hear 
thy groans, and sighs, and plaints forced by thy sick passion ; but then sor- 
row pierceth deepest into their hearts through their eyes, when they see thee 
grown speechless. 

' The tongiie then least of all the loss doth moan. 
When the life's spvl is going out, or gone.' 

So there is some hope of the sinner whiles he can groan for his wickedness, 
and complaui against it, and himself for it ; but when his voice is hoarsed, — 
I mean, his acknowledgment gone, — his case is almost desperate. Confes- 
sion of sins and sores is a notable help to their curing. As pride in all her 
wardrobe hath not a better garment than humility, — ]Mary, clad with that, 
was respected in the eyes of God, Luke i. 48, — so not humility in all her 
storehouse hath better food than confession. Diim agtwscit reus, ig^noscit 
Deus, — Whiles the unjust sinner repents and confesseth, the just God relents 
and forgiveth. The confident Pharisee goes from God's door without an 
alms. What need the full be bidden to a feast ? Tolle vulnera, tolle opus 
medici. It is fearful for a man to bind two sins together, when he is not 
able to bear the load of one. To act wickedness, and then to cipak it, is for 
a man to wound himself, and then go to the devil for a plaster. What man 
doth conceal, God will not cancel. Iniquities strangled in silence will strangle 
the soul in heavhiess. 

There are three degrees of felicity : — [1.] Non offendere; [2.] Noscere; [3.] 
Agnoscere peccata. The first is, not to sin ; the second, to know; the third, to 
acloiowledge our offences. Let us, then, honour him by confession whom 
we have dishonoured by presumption. Though we have failed m the first 
part of religion, an upright life, let us not fail in the second, a repentant 
acknowledgment. Though we cannot shew God, with the Pharisee, an in- 
ventory of our holy works, — item, for praying; item, for fasting; item, for 
paying tithes, (fee, — yet, as dumb as we are and fearful to speak, we can 
write, with Zechariah, ' His name is John ;' ' Grace, grace,' and only ' grace.' 
Meritum meum misericordia iua Domine,-\ — My merit, Lord, is only thy 
mercy. Or as another sung well — 

* Til vere pius, ego reus : 
Miserere mei Deus ;' — 

' Thou, Lord, art only God, and only good : 
I sinful ; let thy mercy be my food.' 

Feccatum argumentum. soporis, confessio animce suscitatce, — Sinfulnes."? is a 
sleep, confession a sign that we are waked. Men dream in their sleeps, 
but tell their dreams waking. In our sleep of security, we lead a dreaming 
life, full of vile imaginations ; but if we confess and speak our sins to God's 
glory, and our own shame, it is a token that God's Spirit hath wakened us. 
Si non confessus lates, inconfessiis damnaberis.^. The way to hide our iniqui- 
ties at the last, is to lay them open here: ' He that covcrclh his sins shall 
not prosper : but he that confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy,' 

• Aug. Epiat. 138. t Aug. t Greg. 



356 THE sinner's passing-bell. [Sermon XX. 

Prov. xxviii. 13. This is true, though to some a paradox: the way to cover 
our sins is to uncover them. Quce aperiuntur in proesenti, operiiintur in 
ultimo die, — If we now freely lay open our iniquities to our God, he will 
conceal them at the latter day; else, crudant plus vulnera chntsa, sins that 
are smothered will in the end fester to death. The mouth of hell is made 
open to devour us by our sins; when we open our own mouths to confess, 
we shut that. Israel is not then restored, because her sickness is not de- 
clared. 

(4.) The last defect of Israel's cure is the want of application. What 
should a sick man do with physic, when he lets it fust in a vessel, or s])ills 
it on the ground 1 It is ill for a man to mispose that to loss which God 
hath disposed to his good. Beloved, application is the sweet use to be made 
of aU sermons. In vain to you are our ministries of God's mysteries, when 
you open not the doors of your hearts to let them in. In vain we smite 
your rocky hearts, when you pour out no floods of tears. In vain we thunder 
against your sins, covetous oppressions of men, treacherous rebellions against 
God, when no man says, ' Master, is it I?' Quod omnibus dicitur, nemini 
dicitu?' ? — Is that spoken to no man which is spoken to all men ? Whiles 
covetousness is taxed, not one of twenty churls lays his finger on his own 
sore. Whiles lust is condemned, what adulterer feels the pulse of his own 
conscience ] WhUes malice is inquired of in the pulpit, there is not a 
Nabalish neighbour in the church will own it. It is our common armour 
against the sword of the Spirit : It is not to me he speaks. For which God 
at last give^them an answerable plague : they shall as desperately put from 
them all the comforts of the gospel, as they have presumptuously rejected 
all the precepts of the laAV. They that would apply no admonition to them- 
selves, nor take one grain out of the whole heap of doctrines for their own 
use, shall at last, with an invincible forwardness, bespeak themselves every 
curse in the sacred volume. 

Thus easy and ordinary is it for men to be others' physicians, rather than 
their own ; statesmen in foreign commonwealths, not looking into their own 
doors ; sometimes putting on Aaron's robes, and teaching him to teach ; and 
often scalding their lips in their neighbours' pottage. They can weed others' 
gardens, whiles their own is overrun with nettles ; like that soldier that 
digged a fountain for Caesar, and perished himself in a voluntary thirst. But 
charity begins at home ; and he that loves not his own soul, I will hardly 
trust him with mine. The usurer blames his son's pride, sees not his own 
extortion ; and whUes the hypocrite is helping the dissolute out of the mire, 
he sticks in deeper himself. The Pharisees are on the disciples' jacket for 
eating with unwashcn hands, whiles themselves are not blameworthy that 
eat with unwashen hearts. No marvel if, when we fix both our eyes on 
others' wants, we lack a third to see our own. If two blind men rush one 
upon another in the way, either complains of other's blindness, neither of 
his own. Thus, like mannerly guests, when a good morsel is carved us, we 
lay it liberally on another's trencher, and fast ourselves. How much better 
were it for us to feed on our own portion ! 

Go back, go back, thou foolish sinner; turn in to thine own house, and 
stray not with Dhiah till thou be ravished. ' Consider your ways in your 
hearts,' Hag. i. 5. If thou findest not work enough to do at home, in 
cleansing thy own heart, come forth then and help thy neighbours. Who- 
soever you are, sit not like lookers-on at God's mart; but having good wares 
proff'cred you, and that so cheap, — * grace, peace,' and remission of sins for 
nothing, — take it, and bless his name that gives it. Keccivc with no less 



Jkii. yill. 22.] TUE sinner's passing-bell. 357 

thankfulness the physic of admonition he sends you ; apply it carefully : if 
it do not work on your souls effectually, there is nothing left that may do 
you good. The word of God is powerful as his own majesty, and shall never 
return back to himself again without sjjeediiig the conuuission it went for. 
Ap2)ly it, then, to your souls in faith and repentance, lest (Jod apjtly it in 
fear and vengeance. Lord, open our hearts with the key of grace, that thy 
holy word may enter in, to reign in us in this world, and to save us in the 
world to come ! Amen. 



PHYSIC FEOM HEAVEN. 



Is there no halm in Gilead; is there no 2^hysician there? why then is not the 
health of the daughter of my people recovered ? — Jek. VIII. 22. 

The allegory is tripartite, and propounds to our consideration, I. What is 
the hahn; II. Who are the 2^hysicians; III. Who are sick The balm is the 
word. The physicians are the ministers. The sick are the sinners. For 
the first : — 

I. The balsam-tree is a little shrub, never growing past the height of two 
cubits, and spreading like a vine. The tree is of an ash-colour, the boughs 
small and tender, the leaves are like to rue. 

Isidore thus distinguisheth it : The tree is called halsamum, the root oi^ilo- 
halsamum, the branches xylo-halsamum, the seed carpo-halsanium, the juice 
ojio-halsamum. 

Pliny saith the tree is all medicinable : the chief and prime virtue is in 
the .juice, the second in the seed, the third in the rind, the last and 
weakest in the stock. It comforts both by tasting and smelling. It is most 
commonly distinguished by physicians into lignum, semeii, liquorem, — the 
wood, the seed, and the juice. This is the nature of the balsamum. 

This holy word is here called balm : and, si fas sit viagnis componcix 
parva, if we may compare heavenly with earthly, spiritual with natural 
things, they agree in many resemblances. The unerring wisdom of heaven 
hath given this comparison. There is no fear to build on God's ground, 
whiles the analogy of faith limits us. It is the builder's first and principal 
care to choose a sure foundation. The rotten, moorish, quioksandy grounds, 
that some have set their edifices on, have failed their hopes and destituted 
their intents. How many able wits have spent their times and studies to 
daub up the filthy walls of Home with ' untcmpered mortar !' Ezek. xiii. 15. 
How well had they hvmted, if they had not mistaken their game ! How rich 
apparel have they woven for a Babylonish harlot ! How avcII had they sailed, 
if Home had not guided tlicir compass ! But ' every man's work shall be 
made manifest ; for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by 
fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is,' 1 Cor. iii. 13. 
Happy is he that hath a rock for his ground, that no gusts, storms, winds, 
waves, may overturn his house ! Matt. vii. 24. Though ' other foundation none 
can lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ,' 1 Cor. iii. 11 ; yet blessed is 
he that i'Truxodo/Mriai ini rhv ''^iij.'fhiov rovrav, hath builded safely upon this ground. 



Jer. VIII. 22.] PHYSIC from iiej^ven. 550 

God hath, here laid my ground ; I will be bold to build my speech on 
that whereon I build my faith. Only sobriety shall be my bounds. We 
may call God's word that balm-troe whereon the fruit of Life grows ; a tree 
that heals, a tree that helps; a tree of both medicament and nutriment; 
like the ' tree of life, which bears twelve manner of fruits, and yieldeth her 
fruit every month,' Rev. xxii. 2. Neither is the fruit only nourishing, but 
even ' the leaves of the tree were for healing of the nations.' Now though 
the balm here, whereunto the word is compared, is more generally taken for 
the juice, now fitted and ready for application; yet, without pinching the 
metaphor, or restraining the Liberty of it, I see not why it may not so be 
likened, both for generiil and particular properties. It is not enough to say 
this, but to shew it. Let me say it now, shew it anon. For the bahu, you 
have the tree, the seed, the juice. God's word will, not unfitly, parallel it in 
resemblances, transcend it in effectual properties. 

The tree itself is the word. We find the eternal Word so compared : * I 
am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman,' John xv. 1. He is a 
tree, but arbor iyiversa, the root of this tree is in heaven. It was once 
' made flesh, and dwelt amongst us, and we beheld his glory, the glory as of 
the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth,' John i. 14. Now 
he is in heaven. Only this Word still speaks unto us by his word : the 
Word incarnate by the word written ; made sounding in the mouth of his 
ministers. This word of his is compared and expressed by many meta^jhors : 
to leaven, for seasoning ; to honey, for sweetening ; to the hammer, for break- 
ing the stony heart : Jer. xxiii. 29, ' Is not my word like as a fire 1 saith 
the Lord; and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces?' To a 
sword that cuts both ways : Heb. iv. 12, ' The word of God is quick and 
powerful, and sharper than a two-edged sword,' &.c. Another sword can but 
enter the flesh and pierce the bones, or at most divide the soul and the body; 
but this the soul and the spirit, where no other sword can come, no, not the 
cherubims' fiery sword, that kept the passage of paradise. Gen. iii. 24. 

It is here a tree, a balm-tree, a salving, a saving-tree. Albumasar saith, that 
the more medicinable a plant is, the less it nourishcth. But this tree reddit 
cegrotum sanum, sanum vero saniorem, — makes a sick soul sound, and a 
whole one sounder. It is not only physic when men be sick, but meat when 
they be whole. Treacle to expel, a preservative to prevent poison. It is 
not only a sword to beat back our common enemy, but a bulwark to hinder 
his approach. 

It carries a seed v;ith. it, carpohalsamum, an 'immortal and incorruptible 
seed,' 1 Pet. i. 13, which concurs to the begetting of a new man, the old 
rotting and dying away : for it hath power of both, to mortify and dead the 
flesh, to revive and quicken the spirit ; that seed which the ' sower went out 
to sow,' JMatt. xiii. 3. Happy is the good ground of the heart that receives 
it! That little mu.stard-seed, ver. 31, wliich spreads up into branches, able 
to give the birds of heaven harbour. Discrimen hoc inter opera Dei et miindi, — 
This difference is betwixt the works of God and of the world : the works of 
the world have great and swelling entrances, but, malo fine clanduntur, they 
halt in the conclusion ; the works of God, from a most slender beginning, 
have a most glorious issue. The word is at first a little seed ; how powerful, 
how plentiful arc the effects ! how manifold, how manifest are the opera- 
tions of it ! ' casting down the highest things, that exalt themselves against 
the knowledge of God ; and captivating every thought to the obedience of 
Christ,' 2 Cor. x. 5. 

The juice is no less powerful to mollify the stony heart, and make it tender 



360 PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [SeRMON XXI. 

and soft, as ' a heart of flesh.' The .seed cnnvinccth the understanding ; the 
juice mollifieth the affections. All is excellent ; but still conspicmnn minus, 
quod maxime est prceclarum, the root that yields this seed, this juice, is the 
power of God. A tree hath manifest to the eye, leaves, and flowers, and 
fi'uits ; but the root, most precious, lies hidden. In man the body is seen, 
not the purer and better part of him, his sold. ' The king's daughter,' 
though ' her clothing be of -wrought gold,' is most ' glorious within,' Ps. xlv. 
13. In all things we see the accidents, not the form, not the substance. 
There are but few that rightly taste the seed and the juice; but who hath 
comprehended the root of this balm ? 

The balsam is a little tree, but it spreads beyond a vine. The virtue of 
it, in all respects, is full of dilatation. It spreads — 1. largely for shadow, 
2. pregnantly for fruit, 3. all this from a small beginning. So that we 
may say of it, as the church of her Saviour, ' As the apple-tree among the 
trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his 
shadow with great dehght, and his fruit was sweet to my taste,' Cant. ii. 3. 

1. It spreads. No sharp frosts, nor nipping blasts, nor chilling airs, nor 
drizzling sleet can mar the beauty or enervate the virtue of this spiritual 
tree. The more it is stopped, the further it groweth. Many mterdictions 
rung peals of menaces in the apostles' ears, that they ' should speak no more 
in the name and word of Christ,' Acts iv. 17, 18 ; they did all rather, like 
bells, toll them into the church, to preach it more fervently. The princes of 
the nations would have hedged it ia with their prohibitions ; but the word 
of heaven and edict of God's spiritual court of glory scorned the prohibi- 
tions given by their temporaiy laws. They might easier have hedged in the 
wind, or pounded the eagle. 

The Jews would have cut dowia this tree at the root ; the Gentiles would 
have lopped off the branches. They struck at Christ, these at his ministers ; 
both struck short. If they killed the messenger, they could not reach the 
message. The blood of the martyrs, spilt at the root of this tree, did make 
it spread more largely. There never died a preacher for Christ's cause, but 
almost every ash of his burned flesh bred a Christian. The old foxes of 
Rome studied, plotted, acted, by policies, stratagems, engines, to give a fatal, 
linal subversian to the gospel ; yet they lived to see it flourish, and, because 
it flourished, died fretting themselves to dust. ' So let thine enemies perish, 
O Lord,' Judg. v. 31, and burst their malicious bowels that have evil will at 
Sion, and despite this balm. 

It grew maugre all the adverse blasts and floods which the billows of 
earth or bellows of hell could blow or pour out against it. Let them loose a 
Barabbas from prison, whiles they shut a Barnabas m prison ; let them give 
Demetrius liberty, whUes they shackle Paul ; and at once burn the professors 
and reward the persecutors of the word : behold, for all this, this balm 
flourisheth, and sends forth his saving odours. The Philistines shut up 
Samson in the city Gaza, Judg. xvi. 2 ; they bar the gates, watch and guard 
the passages, and are ready to study for the manner of his death. The Jews 
shut up Christ in the grave, they bar it, they seal it, they guard it ; sure 
enough, thinks the Jew, hopes the devil, to keep him fast. The Gentiles shut 
the apostles in prison, chain them, beat them, threat them with worse, that 
had felt already their bad usage : now they clap their hands at the supposed 
fall of the gt)spel. Behold, Samson carries away the gates of Gaza ; Christ, 
the bands of death ; the word, the bars of the prison. 

What shall I say? Still this balm flourisheth. Vivit, viget, liber est, 
supra hominem est. As Joseph incipit cl vinculis ferreis, finit ad torquem 



JeR. VIII. 22.] PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. 3G1 

aureuni, — begins at iron, ends at golden chains ; so tkis balsam, the more it 
is struck at with the cudgels of reproach and persecution, the faster, the 
fuller, the further it groweth. The vine but only nourisheth ; the balm 
both nourisheth the good and expellcth the evil that is in man. These two 
are God's trees. When every god, saith the pcK't, chose his several tree, — 
Jupiter the long-lived oak, Neptune the tall cedar, Apollo the green laurel, 
Venus the white poplar, — Pallas (whom the poets feign to be born of Jupiter's 
brain, and mytliologists interpret Wisdom) chose the vine. Our true and 
only God, that owneth all, hath more especially chosen the vine and the 
balm, one for preservation, the other for restoration of our health. 

2. As it gives boughs spaciously, so fruit pregnantly, plentifully. The 
graces of God hang upon this tree in clusters. ' ]\Iy beloved is unto me as 
a cluster of camphire in the \dneyards of Engedi,' Cant. i. 14. No hungry 
soul shall go away from this tree unsatisfied. 

It is an effectual word, never failing of the intended success. What God's 
word affirms, his truth performs, whether it be judgment or mercy. Nee 
verhum ah intendone quia Veritas, nee factum d, verbo quia viiius* — His word 
differs not from his intent, because he is truth ; nor his deed from his word, 
because he is virtue. What he intends he declares, or ratlier what he de- 
clares he intends — he is just ; and what he declares and intends he performs — 
he is powerful. This is that Delphian sword, that universal instrument, 
whereby he made, whereby he supports the world, Heb. i. 3. It is not a 
fruitless and ineffectual word, as man's. Propter nostrum dicere et velle, nihil 
in re mutatur, saith the philosopher, — Our speaking or willing puts no 
change into any subject. A man is starved with cold, fomished with hunger; 
we advise him to the fire, to repast : is he ever the fuller or fatter for our 
word ? Not unless, like a chameleon, he can live by air. But God's word 
is fruitful, it feeds. ' Man Lives not by bread only, but by God's word,' 
Matt. iv. 4. Our word and will is like an idol's power : God's volo is suffi- 
cient. Voluntas ejus, potestas ejus, — His will is his power. One Jiat of his was 
able to make that was not, but had else lien in everlasting iiiformity ; to 
constitute nature when it is not, to confirm or change nature when it is. 
When God was in the flesh, and went about doing good, a faithful centurion, 
for his servant so desperately sick, desired not the travel of his feet, nor a 
dram of his physic, nor so much as the imposition of his hands, but die ver- 
hum tantum : ' Lord, say the word only, and my servant shall be healed,' 
]\Iatt. viii. 8. This word is so effectual, that it shall never fail of the pur- 
pose it first was sped for. The sun and moon shall fail in their motions, day. 
and night in their courses, the earth totter on her prop.s, nature itself shall 
apo.state to confusion, before God's word fall away unaccomplished, whether 
he dispenseth it to affect man's heart, or othermse dispo.seth it to eftect his 
will. Of so powerful efficacy is that word which the world despiseth. 

3. As this balm spreads patently for shadow, potently for fruit, so all 
this ariseth from a little seed. God's smallest springs prove at length main 
oceans. His least beginnings grow into great works, great wonders. How 
stately the world begins, how lame it is at last ! The tower of Babel is 
begun as if it scorned heaven and scared earth ; how easy a stratagem from 
above overthrows it, though God never laid finger to it ! Nebuchadnezzar 
begins with, 'Who is God?' and anon scarce reserves to himself the visible 
difference from a beast. Another Nebuchadnezzar exterminates all gods 
from the earth, that himself might reign {solus Deus in solin, who was rather 
dcemon in folio) only god : behold, a silly woman overthrows him in his 

* Bern. 



362 PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [SeKMON XXI. 

great Holofernes. "Witli such proud entrance doth the Avorld begin his 
scenes ; with such ridiculous shame do they lag otf. Our God from small 
beginnmgs raiseth mountains of marvels to us, of praises to himself. Even 
Joseph, that is in prison, shall ride in the second chariot of Egypt. Drown- 
inf^ Moses shall come to countermand a monarch. Christ, that was buried 
in a grave, shall ' bruise the nations, and break them with a rod of iron,' Ps. 
ii 9, Peter, a fisher, shall catch whole countries ; a little balm heal a world 
of people. 

Well, it spreads ; let us get under the shadow of the branches. Happy 
and cool refreshing shall the soul scorched with sins and sorrows find there. 
Never was shade more welcome to the sweltered traveller than this, word is 
to the afllicted conscience. 

It is fructual : let it be so to us in operation. It gives us the fruit of 
life ; let us return it the fruits of obedience. God's word is significative to 
all, operative to his. 

It is a powerful voice, whether it give life or kill. Man and music have 
virtutem vocis, the power of voice ; God only reserves to himself vuceyn 
virtutis, the voice of power. ' Lo, he doth send out his voice, and that a 
mighty voice. Ascribe ye strength unto God,' Ps. Ixviii. 33, 34. I might 
speak of his thunders in Sinai ; but I turn to the songs of Sion, the sweet 
voice of his gospel, whereof I am an unworthy minister : the voice that 
speaks Christ and his death, Christ and his life, Christ and his salvation. 
He that was anointed pro consortihus and prcB consortibus, for his fellows, 
and * above his fellows ; ' who is ' the way, the truth, and the life,' John xiv 
6. Via sine devio, Veritas sine nuhilo, vita sine termino, — The way with 
out error, the truth without darkness, the life without end. Via in exilio 
Veritas in consilio, vita in 2:>rcemio, — The way in exile, the truth in counsel, 
the life in reward. ' Oh, whither shall we go from thee 1 Lord, thou hast 
the words of eternal life,' John vi. G8. All the word calls us to Christ. 
Post me, per me, ad me, — after me, by me, to me. After me, because I am 
truth ; by me, because I am the way ; to me, because I am life."' Qua vis 
ire ? Ego sum via. Quo vis ire ? Ego sum Veritas. Ubi vis permanere 1 
Ego sum vita, — How wilt thou go % I am the way. Whither wilt thou go ? 
I am the truth. Where -wilt thou abide ? I am the life. 

Now, there is no action without motion, no motion without wlU, no will 
without knowledge, no knowledge without hearing, Rom. x. 14. Ignoti 
nulla cupido, — There is no afiection to unknown objects. God must then, 
by this word, call us to himself. Let us come when and whiles he calls us, 
leaving our former evil loves and evil lives ; for mali amores make malos 
viores, saith St Augustine. And let us shew the power of this balm in our 
confirmed healths. A sound conversion is proved by a good conversation. 
Perhaps these effects in all may not be alike in quantity ; let them be in 
quality. God hath a liberal, not an equal hand ; and gives geometrically, 
by proportion ; not arithmetically, to all alike. Only magis et viinus non 
tollit subsiantiam, — the dimensions of greater or less do' not annihilate the 
sul^stance. Our faith may be precious, nay, ' like precious,' 2 Pet. i. 1 , 
though less and Aveaker. San ctifi cation admits degrees, justification no lati- 
tude. Luther saith, we are as holy as Mary the virgin, not in life, which is 
active holiness, but in grace of adoption, which is passive holiness. Come 
we then faithfully to this balm ; so shall we be safe under the shadow, and 
filled with the fruits thereof Thus in general ; let us now search for some 
more special concurrences of similitude. 
* ' Post inc, quia Veritas sum; per me, quia via sum; ad me, quia vita sum.' — Aitgiist. 



Jkr. VIIl. 22.] PHYSIC from heaven. 3G3 

1. The leaves of the balsam arc white ; the word of God is pure and spot- 
less. I'etcr saitli there is sincerity in it, 1 Tet. ii. 2. Perfection itself was 
tlie finger that v.rote it : neither could the instrumental pens blot it with 
any corruption ; the Spirit of grace giving inspiration, instruction, limitation, 
that they might say with Paul, Quod accepi d Domino, tradidi vobis, — ' I 
received of the Lord that which 1 delivered to 'you,' 1 Cor. xi. 23 ; neither 
more nor less, but just weight. It is pure as gold fined in a sevenfold fur- 
nace, Ps. xii. 6. ' Every word of God is pure,' saith Solomon, Prov. xxx. 5. 
There is no breath or steam of sin to iiifect it. The sun is darkness to it, 
the very angels are short of it. It is white, immaculate, and so unbleniish- 
able,- that the very mouth of the devil could not sully it. Even the known 
father of lies thought to* disparage the credit of the Scriptures, by taking 
them into his mouth ; he could not do it. They are too unchangeably white 
to receive the aspersion of any spot. 

2. The balsam, say the physicians, is gtistu mordax et acre, — sharp and 
biting in the taste, but wholesome in digestion. The holy word is no other- 
wise to the unregenerate palate, but to the sanctified soul it is sweeter than the 
honeycomb. The church .saith, ' His fruit is sweet luito my taste,' Cant, ii, 
3. It is ' folly to the Jews, and a stumblingblock to the Gentiles ; but to 
the called, both of Jews and Gentiles, the power of God, and the wisdom of 
God,' 1 Cor. L 24. Saluberrima raro jucundissima, — Relish and goodness 
are not ever in the same material. The gospel is like leaven, sour to the 
natural spirit, yet makes him holy bread. It is said of the leaven, to which 
Christ compares the word, that massam acrore grato excitat, — it puts into 
the lump a savoury sourness. It is aaw, but grains, — sharp, but acceptable. 
The word may relish bitter to many, but is wholesome. There cannot be 
sharper piUs given to the usurer than to cast up his unjust gains. The 
potion that must scour the adulterer's reins makes him very sick. He that 
will let the proud man's pleurisy blood, must needs prick him. To bridle 
the voluptuous beast, Avill make him stamp and fret. All correction to our 
corrupt nature runs against the grain of our affections. He that would bring 
Mammon to the bar, and arraign him, shall have judge, jury, sitters, and stand- 
ers, a whole court and sessions, against him. These sins are as hardly parted 
Avith of the owners, as the eye, hand, or foot, necessary and ill-spared mem- 
ber. Forbid the courtly Herod his Herodias ; the noble Naaman his Rim- 
mon ; the gallant Samson his IJelilah ; the city Dives his quotidian feast ; 
the country Nabal his churlishness ; the rustical Gergesites their hoggish- 
ness ; the Popish Laban his little gods ; the Ahabish landlord his enclosings ; 
and you give them bitter almonds, that wiU not digest with them : like the 
queasy mass-priest, whose god would not stay in his stomach. But let God 
work the heart with the preparative of his preventing grace, and then this 
balm will have a sweet and pleasing savour. 

There are too many that wiU not open their lips to taste of this balm, 
nor their cars to hear the word. But as one mocks the Popish priest cele- 
brating the mass, (who useth one trick, amongst other histrionioal gestures, 
f)f st(jpping his ears,) that he doth it lest he should hear the crackling of his 
Saviour's bones — 



' Digitis tunc obserat aures, 
Ne collisa crepent Chriati, quern c 



quern conterit, ossa ; ' — 

so these become voluntarily deaf adders, and will not hear ' Chri.st crucified,' 
the ' preaching of the cross of Christ,' as Paul calls it ; which is able to kill 
our sius and quicken our souls, Phil. iii. 18, Gal. iii. 1. I have read it re- 



364 PHYSIC FROM nEAVEN. [Semion XXI. 

ported that the adders in the east, and those hot countries, did so subtlely 
evade the charmers thus : when she hears the pipe, she will couch one ear 
close to the ground, and cover the other with her taU. So do worldlings : 
they fill one ear with earth, as much covetous dirt as they can cram into it ; 
the other ear they close up with their lewd lusts, as the adder with her 
winding tail ; that they have none left for their God, for their good. And 
being thus deaf to holy and heavenly incantations, they are easUy by Satan 
overreached, overruled, overthrown. 

So unwieldy is Christ's yoke to the raging mule ; so heavy his burden to 
the reluctant horse, Ps. xxxii. 9 ; hard his law to the carnal Capernaite ; so 
sour his balm to the wicked palate ; though to the godly his ' yoke is easy, 
and his burden light,' jMatt. xi. 30. ' Woe unto them, for they call sweet 
sour,' Isa. v. 20, God's balm distasteful ; and ' sour sweet,' the world's poison 
savoury. They are not more propitious to vice than malicious against good- 
ness. For others, they love a Barabbas better than a Barnabas. For them- 
selves, every one had rather be a Dives than a Divus ; a rich sinner than a 
poor saint. 'No marvel if the blind man cannot judge of colours, nor the 
deaf distinguish sounds, nor the sick relish meats. God's word is sweet, 
however they judge it ; and their hearts are sour, however they will not 
think it. ' ]\Iy ways are equal, but your ways are unequal, saith the Lord of 
ho.sts,' Ezek. xviii. 25, 29. 

3. They write of the halsamum, that the manner of getting out the juice 
is by wounding the tree : Sauciata arbor prcebet opohalsamum. Provided 
that they cut no further than the rind ; for if the wound extends to the 
body of the tree, it bleeds to death. I have read no less of vines that are 
unjustly pruned ; they bleed away their lives with the sap. The issuing 
balm is called opohalsavuim, as some from the Greek opo, which signifies a 
den, or rather of ottos, juice. A treble lesson here invites our observation : — 

Obs. 1. — The balsam tree weeps out a kind of gum, like tears; the word 
of God doth compassionately bemoan our sins. Christ wept not only tears 
for Jerusalem, but blood for the world. His wounds gush out like fountains, 
and every drop is blood. Ecce in lachnjmis, in sanguine lociitus est mundo. 
His "whole life was a continual mourning for our sins. Ntinquam ridere 
diduSjJiere scepissime. He may adjure us to repentance and obedience by 
more forcible arguments than ever Dido used to ^neas : Ego vos per has 
lachrymas, p>er hos gemitus, per hcec vulnera, per corpus sanguine mersum, — 
I entreat you by tears, by groans, by wounds, by a body, as it were, droAvned 
in its own blood : by all these mercies of Christ, whereby we do not only 
persuade you of ourselves, Rom. xii. 1, but ' God doth beseech you through 
us,' 2 Cor. V. 20. If those tears, sighs, wounds, blood, move not our con- 
sciences, we have impenetrable souls. If the heart-blood of Christ cannot 
make thy heart to relent, and thy feet to tremble, when thy concupiscence 
sends them on some wicked errand ; thy hands, tongue, and all parts and 
powers of thee to forget their office, when thou wouldst sin obstinately; 
thou art in a desperate case. These were the tears of this balm tree. The 
word doth in many places, as it were, weep for our sins, panting out the 
grievance of a conq)assionate God : ' Why wUl ye die, O ye house of Israel 1 ' 
Ezek. xviii. 31. What prophet hath written without sorrow? One of 
them threnos suspirat, sighs out a book of Lamentations, which Greg. Na- 
zianzen saith, Nuvquam ct se siccis ocidis lectos esse, — that he could never read 
with dry eyes. The other prophets also curas hominum gessenint, took on 
them the burden of many men's sorrows. Cyprian had so compassionate a 
sympathy of others' evil deeds, evil suff"crings, that cum singulis pectus meum 



JeE. VIII. 22.] PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. 30.5 

copulo, cum plangentibus planr/o, saith he, — I join my breast with others, and 
challenge a partnership in their griefs. A minister, saith Chiyso.stom, debet 
esse liKjens sua et aUena delicta* should be still lamenting his own sins, and 
the sins of his people. Monachus est plangentis offidnm,i — The office of a 
minister is the office of a mourner. All these are but as canes, to derive 
upon us the tears of this balm. 

Obs. 2. — The way to get out the juice of balm from God's word is by 
cutting it, skilful division of it, which St Paul calls oiiloT-o/x&Sura rm XCyov rrig 
dXrjdsiag, ' rightly dividing the word of truth,' 2 Tim. ii. 15. It is true that 
God's word is panis vitce, ' the bread of life ; ' but whiles it is in the whole 
loaf, many cannot help themselves : it is needful for children to have it cut 
to them in pieces. Though the spice unbroken be sweet and excellent, yet 
doth it then treble the savour in delicacy when it is pounded in a mortar. 
AU the balm-tree is medicinal, yet the effectual working is better helped by 
cutting the stock, by takuig out the juice, and distributing to every man a 
portion, according to the proportion of his wants. With no less heedfulness 
must the word be divided, that some may receive it gentle and mollifying, 
and others as a sharper ingredient. As there is a double composition in men, 
pride and humility, so there must be a double disposition in preaching the 
word, of meekness, of terror. Aaron's bells must be w' isely nmg, sometimes 
the treble of mercy, sometimes the tenor of judgment, sometimes the counter- 
tenor of reproof, and often the mean of exhortation. There is no less dis- 
cretion required to application than to explication. As physicians prescribe 
their medicmcs by drams or ounces, according to the patient's strength or 
weakness, so divines must feed some with milk, others Avith stronger meat. 
The learned should have deeper points, the simple plainer principles. How 
easy is it for many a weak stomach to surfeit even on the food of life, though 
the fault lies not in any superfluity of the word, but in the deficiency of his 
understanding ! The absence of sobriety in the speaker is more intolerable 
than m the hearer. The people must take such meat as their cooks dress to 
them. Let none of Eli's sons slubber up the Lord's saciifice or service. Let 
not good balm be maiTcd by a fusty vessel. Seasonable discretion must 
attend upon sound knowledge. Wisdom without wit is meat without salt ; 
wit without wisdom is salt without meat. Some wells are so deep that a 
man can draw no water out of them ; these bury their gifts in the grave of 
sullen silence. Some are shallow pits, that run so long open mouth till 
their sprmgs are quite dry ; whiles they will be prius doctores quam discipuli, 
— masters that never were scholars, and leap into Paul's chair when they 
never sat at the feet of Gamaliel. There must be therefore wisdom both 
in the dispensers and hearers of God's mysteries ; in the former to distri- 
bute, in the other to apportion their due and fit share of this balm. 

Obs. 3. — The balsam tree being wounded too deep, dies ; the word of God 
cannot be marred, it may be martyred, and forced to suffer injurious inter- 
pretations. The Papists have made, and called, the Scriptures a nose of 
wax ; and they wring this nose so hard that, as Solomon says, they force out 
blood, Prov. xxx. 33. As Christ once, so his word often is crucified between 
two thieves — the Papist on the left hand, the schismatic on the right. These 
would ra\ish the virgin-pureness of the gospel, and adulterate the beauty of 
it. They cannot cut, exceiit they cut a-pieces ; nor distinguish, but they 
must extinguish. They divide fair, but they leave the quotient empty. 
They subdivide till they bring all to nothing but fractions, but factions. 
We may observe that among these, there are as few unifici in the church as 
♦ Homil. 10 in Matt. v. t Jerom. Ep. 21 



3G6 PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [SeRMOX XXI. 

munifici in the commonwealth. They are commonly most miserable men 
of their purses, most prodigal of their opinions. They divide the word too 
plentifully to their turbulent auditors ; they divide their goods too sparingly 
to poor Christians. There are too many of such ill logicians, that divide all 
tilings, define nothing. As a modern poet well — 

'Definit logicus res, non modo dividit; at nos 
Nil de&uimus, omnia dividimus.' 

These pierce the balm too deep : not to strain out juice, but blood, and, in 
what they are able, to kill it. 

4. When the balsam is cut, they use to set vials in the dens, to receive 
the juice or sap ; when the word is divided by preaching, the people should 
bring vials with them, to gather this saving balm. These vials are our ears, 
which should couch close to the pulpit, that this intrinsic balm may not be 
spilt besides. How many sermons are lost whiles you bring not with you 
the vessels of attention ! We cut, and divide, and sluice out rivers of saving 
health from this tree, but all runs besides, and so your health is not re- 
covered. You come frequently to the wells of life, but you bring no pitchers 
with you. You cry on us for store of preaching, and call us idle drones, if 
we go not double journey every Sabbath, but still you go home with un- 
fallowed, with unhallowed hearts, Hos. x. 12. Our Gilead affords you balm 
enough, yet you have sickly souls. You hear to hear, and to feed either 
your humours, or your opinions, or your hypocrisies. You shall hear a 
puffed Ananias cry, Alas ! for his non-preaching minister ; if, at least, he for- 
bears his snarling and currish invectives of ' dumb dog,' &c. When, alas ! 
let many apostles come, ^dth the holy conjuration of prayer and preaching, 
yet they cannot cast out the deaf devil in many of them. They blame our 
dumb dogs, not their own deaf devils. They would seem to cure us that 
are sent to cure them, if at least they would be cured. ' We would have 
cured Babel;' nay, we would have cured Bethel, 'but she would not be 
cured.' 

It wiU be said that most hearers bring with them the vials of attention. 
Yield it ; yet, for the most part, they are either without mouths or without 
bottoms. Without mouths to let in one drop of this balm of grace ; or 
without bottoms, that when we have put it in, and look to see it again in 
yotir lives, behold, it is run through you, as water through a sieve, and scarce 
leaves any wet behind it. And, to speak impartially, many of you that have 
vials with bottoms, — cars of attention, with hearts of retention and of re- 
membrance, — yet they are so narrow at the top that they are not capable but 
of drop by drop. Think not yourselves so able to receive at the ear and 
conceive at the heart innumerable things at once. You are not broad glasses, 
but narrow-necked vials ; and then best receive this balm of life when it is 
stilled from the limbec of preaching with a soft fire, and a gentle pouring in. 
So saith the prophet : ' Line must be added to line, precept upon precept, 
here a little and there a little.' When a great vessel pours liquor into a 
strait-mouthed vial, the source must be small and sparing, fit to the capacity 
of the receiver, that in time it may be filled. It is often seen that when 
this juice comes with too full and frequent a stream, almost all runs besides. 
I do not speak this vel jirohibendi, vel cohibendi animo, to curb the forward- 
ness of godly ministers, or persuade the rarity of sermons, — God still, of his 
mercy, multiply 'labourers into,' and labours in, 'his harvest !' — but to cor- 
rect your obstreperous clamours against us : not to chill the heat of your 
zealous hearing, but to enkindle the fire of your conscionable obeying. Do 



Jf.R. VIII. 22.] PHYSIC FROM nKAVENT. 3G7 

not stand so much upon sacrifice, tliat you forgot mercy. Bo not so angry 
for want of two or three sermons in a week, when you will not obey the 
least doctrine of one in a month. You bless your Samuels in the name of 
the Lord, with protestation of your obedience to the will of the Lord : we 
reply, ' What means then the bleating of the shec[), and the lowing of the 
oxen in our ears ]' 1 Sam. xv. 13, 14, — the loud noise of your oaths, injuries, 
oppressions, frauds, circumventions 1 You come with books in your hands, 
but with no book for God's Spirit to write obedience in. A Bible under 
the arm, with many, is but like a rule at one's back, whiles all his actions are 
out of square. The history of the Bible is carried away easier than the mystery. 

Philosophy saith that there is no vacuity, no vessel is empty ; if of water 
or other such liquid and material sub.stances, yet not of air. So perhaps 
you bring hither vials to receive this balm of grace, and carry them away 
full, but only full of wind ; a vast, incircumscribed, and swimming knowledge, 
a notion, a mere implicit and confused tenency of many things, which lie 
like corn, loose on the floor of their brains. How rare is it to see a vial 
carried from the church full of balm, a conscience of grace ! I know there 
are many names in our Sardis ; I speak not to dishearten any, but to en- 
courage all. Only, would to God we would shew less, and do more, of good- 
ness ! Yet shew freely, if you do godly. I reprehend not shewing, but not 
doing. We preach not to your flesh, but to. your spirits ; neither is this 
balm for the ear, but for the soul. Therefore I sum up this observation 
with a father : Quantum vas Jidei capax afferimus, tantum c/ratice itiuiulaiitis 
haurimus* — Look, how capacious a vessel of faith we bring with us to 
the temple, so much of this gracious and flowing balm of life we receive. 
Consider that this balm is animce languentis viedicina, — the physic for a 
sick soul. Come to it like patients that desire to be cured. Quidam 
veniunt ut nova perquirant, et hcec curiositas est; quidam ut sciantur, et 
hcec vanitas est,f — They abuse this word that search it only for news, and 
this is curiosity ; or to get themselves a name, and this is vanity ; or to sell 
the truth, and this is simony ; or to jest on it, and this is profaneness ; or 
to confute it, and this is atheism. 

You do well condemn, first, them that prefer Machiavel to Moses, Ishmael's 
scofis to Jeremiah's tears, Jericho to Jerusalem, the tower of Babel to the 
gates of Bethel. Or, secondly, those that put away the ministry as a super- 
fluous office, and think they know enough to save themselves. 

' Dux ero, miles ero, duce me, me milite solus 
Bella geram ; ' — • 

They will be their own captains and their own soldiers, and without calling 
the assistance of man or angel, prophet or apostle, they will bandy with the 
devil and all his army, hand to hand. Or, thirdly, those that, like the collier, 
dance in a circular measure, and hang all their faith on the hooks of others' 
belief, exerci.sing all their religion by an exorcising mas.s, whiles they count 
the Old and New Testaments books of controversy, and that it is peremptory 
sacrilege to meddle with the Scriptures. You do well to abhor these dotages ; 
but still look that all be well at home. Love the word, and that with an 
appetite. Beati esurientes, — ' Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after 
righteousness, for they shall be satisfied,' IMatt. v. G. But as you have love 
to it, so live by it. Non schohv, sed vitcv discendum, — We loarn not only to 
know good, but to live well. Audialis ut sciatis, saith St Bernard,i sciatis 

* Cypri. apu<l Granat. Cone. i. t Hug. in Introd. Sacr. Scrip., cap. xiil. 

X Seira. in Cant. 



368 PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [SeEMOX XXI, 

ui cedificemini, et hoc integritas est ; xd (Bclificetis, et hoc charitas est, — Hear 
to know, know to edify yourselves, this is integrity ; to edify others, this is 
charity. Bring then to this bahn vials of sincerity, not of hypocrisy, lest 
God till them with the vials of his indignation. It is not entuigh to have 
ears, but ' ears to hear.' Idle auditors are like idle gods, which have mem- 
bers not for i:se but show ; like glass windows upon stone walls, to give 
ornament, not to receive light. 

5. The balsam tree was granted sometimes to one only people — Judea, as 
Pliny* testifies. It was thence derived to other nations. Who that is a 
Christian doth not know and confess the appropriation of this spiritual balm 
once to that only nation 1 ' He sheweth his word unto Jacob, his statutes 
and his judgments unto Israel. He hath not dealt so with other nations : 
and as for his judgments, they have not known them,' Ps. cxlvii. 19, 20. 
Now, as their earthly balm was by their civil merchants transported to other 
nations ; so when this heavenly balm was given to any Gentile, a merchant 
of their own, a prophet of Israel, carried it. Nineveh could not have it 
without a Jonah ; nor Babylon without some Daniels ; and though Paul 
and the apostles had a commission from Christ to preach the gospel to all 
nations, yet observe how they take their leave of the Jews : Acts xiii. 46, 
' It was necessary that the word of God should first have been spoken to 
you ; but seeing you put it from you, and judge yourselves unworthy of 
everlasting life, lo, we turn to the Gentiles.' Other lands might brag of their 
natural and national benefits ; only Jewry of both the balms. Non omnis 
fert omnia tellus. Nihil est omni paHe beatum.f 

' India mittit ebur ; molles dant thura Sabsei ; 
Totaque thuriferis Panchaia dives arenis.' 

Hiram had store of timber, Moab of sheep ; Ophir was famous for gold, 
Chittim for ivory, Bashan for oaks, Lebanon for cedars ; Plascon J had the 
best wines, Athens the best honey, Persia the best oil, Babylon the best corn, 
Tyre the best purple, Tharsis the best ships ; the West Indies for gold, the 
East for spices : but of all, Jewry bore the palm for bearing the balm. Such 
grace had Israel for the temporal, much more for the spiritual balm, that all 
nations might make low courtesy to her, as the ' queen of the provinces,' 
and be beholden to her for the crumbs that fell from her table, as the Syro- 
phoenician desired of Christ. Yet .she, that transcended all in her blessings, 
descended lower than all in her disobedience. And as she lift up her head 
and gloried in her special privileges, so she might hang down her head for 
shame at her extraordinary wickednesses. 

For it is observed, that there are sins adherent to nations, proper, peculiar, 
genuine, as their flesh cleaveth to their bones. That as for the climate of 
heaven, their bodies diff"er ; so for the. custom of their lives, their dispositions 
vary from others. So that many countries are more dangcsrous, either for 
sins or calamities. For of necessity they that live among tliem must either 
imitate them and do ill, or hate them and suffer ill, since amicitice pares ant 
(p.un'unt aut faciunt, — cohabitation of place seeks or makes coaptation of 
manners. St Paul notes the Cretians for liars, Titus i. 12 ; St Luke the 
Athenians for news inquirers and bearers. Acts xvii. 21. The Grecians were 
noted for light, the Parthians for fearful, the Sodomites for gluttons, like as 
England (God save the sample !) hath now suppled, lithed, and strctclieil 
their throats. If wc should gather .sins to their particular centres, we W(.)ukl 
appoint pride to Spain, lust to France, poisoning to Italy, drunkenness to 

* Lib. xii., cap. 17. t Horat. % Qu. Faleruus ?— Ed. 



j£R. VIII. 22.] PHYSIC FBOM HEAVEN. 369 

Gei-many, epicurism to England. Now it was Israel's wickedness and 
wretchedness that they fell to idolatry. Not that other nations were not 
idolaters, but Israel vilest, because they alone were taught the true worship 
of God. 

Jo.sephus holds that the Jews were the best soldiers of the world, both for 
ability of body and agility of mind, in strength, in stratagem. Divers people 
are now excellent fighters one special and singular way. Tlie luimans fight 
well in their councils, I had almost said fence-schools ; the Italians in their 
shops, the Spaniards in their ships, the Frenchmen in a hold, the Scut with 
his lance, the Irishman on foot with his dart. But the Jews were, saith 
Josephus, every way expert, Alas ! thcii- victury came n(jt from their own 
strength ; the Lord fought for them. So one of them chaseth ten of his 
enemies, a hundred chase a thousand. They had the shield of God's protec- 
tion, the sword of his Spirit, the word of God ; defence and offence against 
their carnal and spiritual enemies. And if ever they received wound to their 
fie.sh or spirits, they had here both the sovereign balms to cure them. But, 
alas ! they that were so every way blessed, lost all by losing their balm, and 
treading it under feet. For this cause their balm is given to us ; their aversion, 
their eversion, is our conversion. They were God's vine, but they lost their 
sweetness, Isa. v. 4. They were God's olives, but they lost their Witness, 
Rom. xi. 20. Therefore God took away his balm. 

6. Pliny affirms, that even when the balsam tree grew only in Jewry, yet 
it was not growing commonly in the land, as other trees, either for timber, 
fruit, or medicine ; but only in the king's garden. The prepared juice, or 
opobalsamum, was communicated to their wants ; but the trees stood not in 
a subject's orchard. He saith further, that it grew in two orchards of the 
king's, whereof the greater was of twenty days' a-ring.* I force no greater 
credit to this than you will willingly give it, (which yet is not improbable,) 
but this I build on, and propound for truth, that this spuitual ' balm grows 
only in the garden of the King of heaven. ' To liim that overcometh wiU 
I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God,' 
Rev. ii. 7. It grows in the paradise or heavenly orchard of God. The root 
of it is in heaven : there sits that holy tree ' at the right hand of liis Father,' 
CoL iii. 1. Hls fruit, his seed, his balm he sends down to us, written by 
his prophets and apostles, fead and preached by his ministers. 

Mohammed would challenge this balm to gi-ow in his garden, and bids us 
search for it in his Alcoran. The apostate Jews affirm it to grow in their 
synagogTie, and point us to the Talmud. The Russian or Muscovitish turn 
us over to their Nicolaitan font, and bid us dive for it there. The Pope 
plucks us by the sleeve, (as a tradesman that would fain take our money,) 
and tells us that he only hath the bidm, and shews us his mass-book. If we 
suspect it there, he warrants the virtue from a general council. If it doth 
not yet smell well, he affirms, not without menacing damnation to our mis- 
trust, that it is even in scrinio i)ectoris sui, — in the closet of his own breast, 
who cannot err. ' Tut,' saith he, * as it gi-ows in God's garden simply, it may 
poison you ; ' as if it were dangerous to be meddled withal till he had played 
the apothecary, and adulterated it with his own sophistication. 

WeU, it can grow in one only garden, and that is God's. There is but 
one truth, ' one Lord, one faith, one baptism,' &c., Eph. iv. 5. Even they 
that have held the greatest falsehoods, hold that there is but one truth. 
Nay, most will confess that this balsam tree is only in God's garden ; but 
they presume to temper the bahn at their own pleasure, and will not minister 
* That is, circumference.— Ed. 
VOL. I. 2 A 



370 PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [SeRMON XXI. 

it to the world except their own fancy hath compounded it, confounded it 
with their impure mixtures. No false religion, no fundamental heresy, but 
reserves to appropriation to God of the balm ; but they take to themselves 
the ministration, the adulteration of it. So in effect, they either arrogate the 
balm to themselves, or take it out of God's garden (as it were, whether he 
will or no) to plant it in their own. So they brag every one of this balm. 
But who will not suspect the wares out of a known cozener's shop ? It is 
unlawful and wicked to offer to God's church either another balm, or after 
another fashion, than he appoints. 

But as Clusius writes of new balms, Peruvianum et halsamum cle Tolu, — 
from Peru and Tolu ; so demonstration is made us of new balms, some 
rather logical than theological. Germany knows my meaning. Others pro- 
duce us balms of piety made up with policy ; the coat of religion put upon 
the back of state, where there may be some balm, but it is so mixed that 
it is marred. For, to a scruple of that, they put in whole ounces of other 
ingredients : an ounce of oleu7n vulpinum, fox-like subtlety ; as much 
oleum viperis, poisonable opinion ; and no less oleum tartari, &c. A whole 
pound of policy, an armful of stinking weeds, frivolous and superstitious 
relics ; all these are put to a poor dram or scruple of balm. Nay, and all 
these shall be dashed and slubbered together by a mass-priest, an idle and 
unskilful apothecary. And when any conscience is known sore, by auricular 
confession it shall have a plaster of this stuff. 

Perhaps this is that they call their holy oil, 'which is said to heal the sick 
body, if it recovers, or to cure the soul of her sins, at least of so many as 
may keep a man from hell, and put him into purgatory, where he shall have 
house-room and firewood free, till the Pope, with soul-masses and merits, 
can get him a plat of ground in heaven to build a house on. How shame- 
ful is it to match their oil with God's balm ! to kneel to it as God, to ascribe 
events to it which God works, and, to help the glory of it, to call those works 
miracles, whereas they might find fitter use for it about their boots ! Though 
it be newly invented, and every day more sophisticate than other, yet they 
make their patients believe that it is ancient, and derived from Holy Scrip- 
tures ; and enter the lists with the champions of God's truth, to maintain the 
purity and antiquity of it. 

A great while they kept God's balm, the word, wholly from the pc?ople ; 
now, because the cursings of the people have a little pierced their souls for 
engrossing this balm and denying it to their sores, they have stopped their 
mouths witli the Rhemish Testament. But as they erst did curse them for 
hoarding God's grain, so now their just anger is as sharp against them for 
the musty, mildewed, blasted stuff they buy of them. Their wickedness is 
no less now in poisoning them, than it Avas before in starving them. Before, 
no balm ; now, new balm. Before, no plaster to their wounds ; now, that 
which makes them rankle worse. So they have mended the matter as that 
physician did his patient's health, to whom, because he was urged to minister 
somewhat, he gave him a potion that despatched his disease and life at once. 
Thus the Popish balm is, as llenodteus calls one, vulgare balsamum, exoletum, 
'hiodorum, vietum, rancidiim, — stale, unsavoury, rammish, rank, vile. 

Such is the sophisticate doctrine of superstitious heretics ; speaking for 
God's precepts their own prescripts ; preaching themselves, and in their own 
names, for ostentation, like the scribes ; delivering falsehoods, and fixthering 
them on the Lord — ' He hath said it ; ' abusing men's ears with old wives' 
talcs and old men's dreams, traditions of elders, constitutions of Popes, pre- 
cepts of men, unwritten truths, untrue writings, cither ' withholding the 



,TkR. VIII. 22. \ PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. 371 

truth in unrighteousness,' or ' selling the word of God for gain,' or ' corrupt- 
ing it,' 2 Cor. ii. 17, and dealing with it as adulterers do in their filthiness ; 
for as these resi^ect not issue, but lust, so the other, not God's glory, but 
their own wantonness ; ministering medicines which God never prescribed to 
them. How can their ' feet seem beautiful,' Rom. x. 15, when, like monsters, 
they have too many toes on them, as the giant's son, 2 Sam. xxi. 20, or too 
few, as Adonibezek and those whom he maimed, Judg. L 7, oflendhig either 
in excess or defect ? But it is God's fearful protestation in the end of the 
book, summing and sealing up all the curses that went before it : 'If they 
add,' he that hath power to add plagues with an everlasting concatenation, 
will multiply their miseries without number or end. ' If they diminish,' he 
that can abate his blessings so low that not the least scruple shall remain, 
will return them their own measure, llev. xxii. 18. And for you, my bre- 
thren, hear the Apostle : ' Let no man beguile you with philosophy and vam 
deceit,' CoL ii. 8, or please you with false balm. You may say of their 
natural learning, as Albumazer of boleno, henbane : Whiles it grows, saith 
ho, in Persia, it is venomous ; but if transplanted and growing in Jerusa- 
lem, it is not only good medicine, but good meat. "Well, if it were possible 
that ' an angel from heaven should preach another gospel, than that which 
God hath delivered and his apostles preached, anathema sit, let him be ac- 
cursed,' Gal. i. 8 ; the true balm comes only from the garden of the King of 
heaven. 

7. They WTite of the balsam tree, that though it spread spaciously as a 
vine, yet the boughs bear up themselves ; and as you heard before that they 
must not be pruned, so now here, that they need not be supported : God's 
word needs no undersetting. It is firmly rooted in heaven, and all the cold 
storms of human reluctancy and opposition cannot shake it. Nay, the more 
it is shaken, the faster it grows. The refractory contentions of worldlings to 
pluck it down, have added no less strength than glory to it. Nor can the 
ministerial office of the dispensers of it be called an aicl or underpropping to 
it. It is not the balm, but you, that stand in need of our function. He 
that owns it is powerful enough to protect it. You cannot apply it to your- 
selves without the physician's help. If you could, or did not more want us, 
than that doth, you should see it flourish and spread without us. He that 
' supports all by his mighty word,' Heb. i. .3, asks no supporter for that word. 

The church of Home challengeth more than the church of God — that she 
bears up the word ; and because she assumes to carry the keys, she presumes 
that the door of heaven hangs upon her hinges. They say, the church is a 
l)illar : we may join issue with them, and yield it, as a reverend divine said. 
For a pillar, as it upholds something, so is upholdeu of something. If then 
the church be a pillar, Christ is the rock whereon it stands : now, take away 
the rock, down comes the pillar. The rock is well enough without the pillar, 
not the pillar Avithout the rock. They that would build all on their church, 
yet build their church on Peter ; and not only on Peter, that was weak, but 
on his feifnied successor, who is weaker. Now this heir built on Peter, and 
this church built on this heir, must uphold the word, as they say Atlas did 
the world. But, alas ! if the word do not bear them, they will fall, like 
water spilt on the gTound, not to be saved or gathered uji. These are miser- 
able, arrogant, impudent wretches, that think God's word could not hold up 
the hands, — like Moses, unless Aaron and Hur helped him, — if the Pope and 
his councils were not: forcing all our credit to the gospel for this, because 
their church allows it. C}od"s word nnist then stand or fall at man's appro- 
bation or dislike. uidignity to the .stable ordinance of an eternal majesty ! 



372 PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [SeRMON XXI. 

It is enough for the laws of a temporal prince to have some dependence on 
his officers' promulgation. He that took no man nor angel to his counsel 
when he made it, demands the succour of none to preserve it. He is con- 
tent to proj)agate the sound thereof through us his trumpets : if it had never 
been preached by man, it should not have lost the effect. Heaven and earth 
shall sooner run, like scorclied sldns, to heaps, than any iota, as small a 
character as the alphabet affords, shall ineffectually perish. If a man could 
deny his office, God could speak it by angels, by thunder, by lightning, con- 
fusion, terror ; by frogs, lice, caterpillars, blasting, plague, leprosy, consump- 
tion ; as he hath sometimes, holding his peace, preached actually to the 
world. It is his own balm, and shall spread to his pleasure, and hath no 
weakness in it, to need man's supportance. Blessed are we under the shadow 
of the branches, and wise if we buUd our salvation on it. 

8. Physicians write of halsamum, that it is paratu facile et optimum, — 
easy and excellent to be prepared. This spiritual balm is prepared to our 
hands : it is but the administration that is required of us, and the applica- 
tion of you. Not that we should slubber it over, as the sons of Eli, in 
preaching ; nor that you should clap it negligently to yourselves in hearing, 
A mortal wound is not to be jested withal, though the physician hath in his 
hand the balm that can cure it. Your constitutions of body are not more 
various, and often variable, than your affections in soul. There must be 
some wisdom in us to hit the right box, and to take out that physic which 
God hath made fit for your griefs. We are sure the shaft that shall kill the 
devil in you is in God's c^uiver ; indiscretion may easily mistake it, misapply 
it. This balm is ready, soon had, and cheaply : let not this make you dis- 
esteem it. Gallant humours vUipend all things that are cheap. But if in 
God's mart you refuse his wares, because their price is no greater, you may 
perhaps one day, when they are gone, curse your withstanding your markets ; 
and being past obtaining, piize it the higher, because in the days of your 
satiety yon did undervalue it. The guests in the gospel, bidden to a supper 
gratis, make light of it : when the feastmaker had protested against them, 
that they ' should never taste of his supper,' Luke xiv. 24, they doubtless 
would have been glad if their money could have purchased it, though it cost 
one his farm, and the other his oxen. 

9. Balm is uiilis ad omnium morhoruvi expugnationem, — good against 
all diseases. The receipt that Linus, Hercules's schoolmaster, gave him, when 
he taught him wrestling, was only a balm. Darius, saith Kenodceus, so 
esteemed it, that non viodo inter pretiosissimam supellectilevi reponeret, sed 
cunctis opihus pra^poneret, — he did not only lay it up amongst his richest 
treasures, but even prefer it before them all. This spiritual bahn is far more 
precious in. itself, and fructuous to all men, if they apprehend it in know- 
ledge, apply themselves to it in obedience : possessing it in science, in con- 
science. Philosopliers, poets, physicians, historians have reported some one 
extraordinary thing exceeding all the rest in their observations. They talk 
of cornucopia, that it supplied men with all necessary food. They hammer 
at the philosopher's stone, wliich they affirm can turn baser metals into gold. 
Vulcan's armour, saith the poet, was of proof against all blows. Pliysicians 
tell us, that the herb panaces is good for all diseases, and the drug catholi- 
con instead of all puigcs ; as both their names would seem to testify. They 
come all short of this spiritual balm. It hath in deed and i)erfection what 
they attribute to those in fiction. Panace is an herb, whereof Pliny thus 
tcstifieth : Panace, ipso nomine, omnium morborum remedia pro7nittit, — The 
I'cry name of it promiscth remedy to all sicknesses. It is but a weed to our 



Jlu. Vill. •2-2. \ nivsic fuom iikaven. 373 

balsam ; which is a tree, a tree of life, a complete paradise of trees of life, 
flourishing and bearing every mouth, the fruit being delectable, the leave*: 
medicinable. It is a true purging virtue, to cleanse us from all corruption 
of si.irit, of flesh. ' Now are ye dam, through the word which I have spoken 
unto you,' John xv. 3. Catholicon is a drug, a drudge to it. It purilk'th 
our hearts from all defilings and obstructions in them. A better cornucopia 
than ever nature, had she been true to their desires and wants, could have 
produced : the bread of heaven, by which a man lives for ever, A very su- 
pernatural stono, more precious than the Indies, if they were consoli.hitu into 
one cpuirry; that turns all into purer gold than ever the land of Havilah 
boasted. A stronger armour than was Vulcan's, to slueld us from a more 
strange and savage enemy than ever Anak begot, the devil, Eph. vi. 11. It 
is a jxmtry of wholesome food, against fenowed traditions ; a physician's 
shop of antidotes, against the poisons of heresies and the plague of miquities; 
a pandect of profitable laws, against rebellious spirits ; a treasure of costly 
jewels, against beggarly rudiments. 

The aromatical tree hath sometimes good savour in the rind, sometimes in 
the flower, sometimes ha the fruit. So it fareth in the cinnamon, that is a 
rind ; the mace is the flower, and the nutmeg the fruit. Accorduig as the 
dry and earthy part, mingled with the su-btle watery matter, hath the mastery 
in any tree, more or less, that part smellcth best ; as in common flowers, 
which savour in the flower, when from the stalk or root ariseth nothing. 
Only the balm smells well in every part. So the word is in every respect 
the sweet savour of life ; though to some, through their own corruption, it 
becomes the savour of death. We may say of the word, as of the lamb, it is 
all good : the fleece to clothe, the flesh to eat, the blood for medicine. Thus 
' all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, 
for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness ; that the man of 
God may be perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works,' 2 Tim. iii. 
16, 17. His scduhriter, et corriguntur jyrava, et nutriuntur parva, et magna 
ohlectantur inrjenia* — Evil wits are corrected, simple are enlightened, strong 
are delighted by the word. And, In his quotidie proficerem, si eas solas ah 
ineunte piieriiia, usque ad decrepitam senectutem, maxima otio, summo studio^ 
meliore ingenio conarer addiscere,— In these I should continually profit, if 
from the first day of my understanding, to the last of my old age, I should 
be conversant with them. 

Other things may have in them sahibritatem quandam, a certain wholcsomc- 
ness ; but from this balm, sanitas et ipsa vita petitur, health and life itself is 
derived. ^ Human writings may, like the Alipt<e, put blood in our cheeks, 
but this is the true phy.sic to cherish our spark, to maintain our life. Other 
herbs, and plants, and roots may be toxica, and poison the broth ; this is 
Elisha's salt, that only sweetens it. Lignum crucis is ligmnn vitce, like 
Moses's wood, to put a healthful taste into the bitter waters of human know- 
ledge. These are the two Testaments of God, wluch no man shall interline 
Avithout certain judgnnent; like the two pillars of smoke and fire, one dark 
like the Old, the other bright as the New, only able to conduct us from 
Egypt to Canaan, and to furnish us with all necessaries by the way, if we 
depend thereon ; the two chembims, that look directly toward the mercy- 
seat, both pointing to Jesus Christ; the treasure, that hath both old and new 
in it, sufticicntly able to ' instruct the scribe to the kingdom of heaven,' ]\Iatt. 
xiii. 52. This is that viedicamentum medicamentorum, as Pctrus Apjionensis. 
saith of the balm, uhi nihil deficit, quod in salutem sufficity — where there i& 
* Aug. Ser. 139 do Temp. 



374 PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [Sermon XXI. 

no want of anything requisite to salvation : cujus 2'>lenitudtnem adoroj^ — 
whose fuhiess I reverence and admire. 

This is that light which can justly guide our steps ; this is tliat measure 
of the sanctuary that must weigh all things; this is that great seal that 
must warrant all our actions. This gives at one sermon balm sufficient 
to heal divers diseases. Peter had auditors of divers nations, ' Parthians, 
Medes, Elamites, &c., Jews and proselj^tes, Cretes and Arabians,' Acts ii. 9 ; 
and no question but their affections were different, yet were three thousand 
won at one sermon, ver. 41. So the multitude, the publicans, the soldiers, 
had all their lessons at one time, Luke iii. 10 : so many in number, and 
such manner of men in nature, had their remedies together, and their several 
diseases healed, as it were, with one plaster. The people had a doctrine of 
charit}^, ver. 1 1 ; the publicans, of equity, ver. 1 3 ; the soldiers, of innocency, 
ver. 14. This was prophesied by Isaiah, fulfilled here, and often in Christ's 
kingdom : ' The wolf is turned to the lamb,' Isa. xi. 6, when the soldiers 
are made harmless ; ' the leopard into a calf,' when the publicans are made 
just ; the ' lion and bear into a cow,' when the multitude is made charitable. 

Water searcheth, and wind shaketh, and thunder terrifieth even lions, but 
the word only is strong to convert the heart of man. Some, indeed, both 
in sense and censure, judge it weak ; but they, alas ! shall find it, if weak to 
save them, yet strong to condemn them. If it cannot plant thee, it wdll 
supplant thee. This then is that sovereign balm, medicinable to all mala- 
dies. Physicians ascribe many healing virtues to their balsam : many, and 
almost what not ? This metaphysical doth more properly challenge that 
attribution. 

1. They say that balm, taken fasting, astlimaticis valde confert, is very 
good against short-windedness. Truly, God's word lengthens and strengthens 
the breath of grace ; which otherwise would be short, the conscience, as the 
lungs, being soon obstructed with iniquities. For goodness soon faints where 
the word is not. Without the gospel, the health of obedience loseth, and 
the disease of sin gathers strength. 

2. They say that balm, tjiken inwardly, dissolves and breaks the stone in 
the reins. But Jeremiah, in God's physic-book, saith that our balm is as ' a 
hammer to break the stone in the heart,' chap, xxiii. 29. The stone in the 
reins is dangerous, in the bladder painful, but none so deadly as the stone in 
the heart. This balm supples the stony heart, and turns it into a * heart of 
flesh.' 

3. They commend their balm for a special ease to the anger of a venomous 
biting. But our balm is more excellent in acideum draconis, imo moriis, — 
against the sting of that great red dragon, nay, of death itself : * death, 
where is thy sting 1' 1 Cor. xv. 5-5. Three serpents give us venomous 
wounds : sin first stings us, the devil next, and death last. This balm of 
Christ fetchcth out all their poisons. 

4. Others say of this balm, that it is good against the obstructions of the 
liver. I have heard the liver in the body compared mth ze;ii in the soul. 
The liver, according to the physicians, is the third principal member wherein 
rest the animal spirits. In the soul two graces precede zeal — faith and 
repentance. I say not this in thesi, but in hypnthesi, not simply, but in 
respect, and that rather of order than of time. For a man is begotten of 
immortal seed by the Spirit at once. Now, as the liver heats the stomach, 
(like fire under the pot,) and thereby succours digestion, so doth zeal heat a 
man's works with a holy fervour ; which are, without that, a cold sacrifice 

* Tertul. 



Jer. VLIL 22.] riiYsic fro-m iikaven-. 375 

to God. A soul without zeal doth as hardly live as a body without a liver. 
Haly calls the liver the well of moisture : we may say of zeal, it is the 
very cistern whence all other graces issue forth into our lives. The liver is 
called hepa)' and Jecur, because it draweth juice to itself, turneth it into 
blood, and by veins serveth the body, aa the water-house doth a city by 
pipes. Nay, it ministereth a surging heat to the brain, to the eyes, to the 
wits, saith Isidore. The pagan necromancers sacrificed only livers on the 
altar of their god Phojbus, before his oraculous answers were given. In the 
soul, other graces, as faith, hope, charity, repentance, did first rather breed zeal ; 
but zeal being once enkmdled, doth minister nutrimental heat to all these, 
and is indeed the best sacrifice that we can offer to God. Without zeal, all 
are like the oblation of Cain. 

Now, if any obstructions of sin seem to oppress this zeal in us, this balm 
of God's word is the only sovereign remedy to cleanse it. For zeal is in 
danger, as the liver, either by too much heat or too much cold, to be dis- 
tempered. To overheat the liver of zeal many have found the cause of a 
perilous surfeit in the conscience : whUes, like the two disciples, nothing 
could content them but tire from heaven against sinners. ' If ever bishop 
was in the tune of Popery, away with that office now ! If ever mass was 
said in church, pull it down !' Though some depopulators have now done it 
in extreme coldness, nay, frozen dregs of heart, making them either no 
churches or polluted ones ; whiles those which were once temples for God's 
shepherds are now cots for their own : yet they in unmeasurable heat 
wished what these with unreasonable cold livers affected. Such miserable 
thieves have crucified the church, one by a new religion in \\tJ1, the other 
by a no religion in deed. They would not only take away the abuse, but 
the thing itself; not only the ceremony, but the substance. As the painter* 
did the ])icture of King Henry the Eighth, whom he had drawn fairly with 
a Bible in his hand, and set it to open view against Queen ]\Iary's coming 
in triumph through the city ; for which being reproved by a great man that 
saw it, and charged to wipe out the book, he, to make sure work, wiped 
out the Bible and the hand too ; and so in mending the fault, he maimed 
the picture. 

This is the effect of preternatural heat, to make of a remedy a disease. Thus 
whiles they dream that Babylon stands upon ceremonies, they offer to raze 
the foundations of Jerusalem itself Well, this balm of God's word, if their 
sick souls would apply it, might cool this ungentle heat of their livers. For 
it serves not only to enkindle heat of zeal in the overcold heart, but to re- 
frigerate the preposterous fervour in the fiery-hot. This is the saving balm 
that scours away the obstructions in the Uver, and prevents the dropsy ; for 
the dropsy is nothing else, saith the philosopher, but the error of the diges- 
tive vu'tue in the hollowness of the liver. Some have such hollowncss in 
their zeal, whiles they pretend holiness of zeal, (as w;us in the iron horns of 
that false prophet Zedekiah, 1 Kings xxii. 11,) that for want of a])plying 
this balm, they are sick of the dropsy of hypocrisy. 

Innumerable are the uses of balm, if we give credit to physicians — vel jyotum, 
vel inunciinn. It strengthens the nerves, it excites and cherisheth the native 
heat in any part, it succoureth the paralytic, and delay etli the fury of con- 
vulsions, «kc. ; and, last of all, is the most sovereign help either to green 
Avounds or to inveterate ulcers. These, all these, and more than ever was 
untruly feigned or truly performed by the balsam to the body, is spiritually 
fulfilled in this happy, heavenly, and true intrinsic balm, God's word. It 
* Acts and Mon. 



376 PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [SeRMOK XXI, 

heals tlie sores of the conscience, wHch either original or actual sin have 
made in it. It keeps the green wound, which sorrow for si^ cuts in the 
heart, from ranlding the soul to death. This is that balsam tree that hath 
fructum uberrimum, usum saluherrimwn, — plenteous fruit, profitable use, — 
and is, in a word, both a preservative against, and a restorative from, all 
dangers to a believing Christian. It is not only physic, but health itself, 
and hath more virtue, saving virtue, validity of saving virtue, than the 
tongues of men and angels can ever sufficiently describe. 

You have here the similitudes. Hear one or two discrepancies of these 
natural and supernatural balms. For as no metaphor should of necessity 
run like a coach on four wheels, when to go, like a man, on two sound legs 
is sufficient ; so earthly things, compared with heavenly, must look to fall 
more short than Linus of Hercules, the shrub of the cedar, or the lowest 
mole-bank of the highest pyramids. 

1. This earthly balm cannot preserve the body of itself, but by the acces- 
sion of the spiritual balm. Even angels' food (so called, not because they 
made it, but because they ministered it) cannot nourish without God's word 
of blessing. For ' every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, 
if it be received with thanksgiving : for it is sanctified by the word of God 
and prayer,' 1 Tim. iv. 4, 5. If the mercy of God be not on our sustenance, 
we may die with meat in our mouths, like the Israehtes. If his pro%ddential 
goodness withhold the virtue, were our garnients as costly as the ephod of 
Aaron, there is no benefit in them. When many are sick, they trust to the 
physicians, as Asa, 2 Ghron. xvi. 12, or to this balm, fastening their ej^es 
and hopes on that ; whereas balm, with the destitution of God's blessing, 
doth as much good as a branch of herb-John in our pottage. Nature itself 
declines her ordinary working, when God's revocation hath chidden it. The 
word without balm can cure ; not the best balm without the word. 

2. So this natural balm, when the blessing of the word is even added to 
it, can at utmost but keep the body living till the life's taper be burnt out ; 
or after death, give a short and insensible preservation to it in the sarcophagal 
grave. But this balm gives life after death, life against death, life without 
death. ' To whom shall we go % Lord, thou hast the words of eternal life,' 
John vi. 68. The Apostle doth so sound it, the saints in heaven have so 
found it, and we, if we believe it, if we receive it, shaU perceive it to be the 
word of life. And as Augustine* of God, Oinne bonuin nostrum vel ipse, vel 
ab ipso, — All our good is either God, or from God ; so all our ordinary means 
of good from God are vel verbum, vel de verbo, — either the word, or by the 
word. 

Obs. — The prophet derives the balm from the Mount Gilcad, demanding 
if Gilcad be without balm. It seems that Gilead was an aromatical j)lace, 
and is reckoned by some among the mountains of spice. It is called in some 
places of Scripture Galeed, and by an easy varying of the points in the Hebrew 
writing, Gilead, Gen. xxxi. This mountaui was at first so called by Jacob, 
hy reason of that solemn covenant which he there made with his father-in- 
Livv, pursuing Laban. Though it be called j\Iount Gilead before in the 
chapter, ver. 21, 23, 25, ' He set his face toward Mount Gilead,' &c., yet it 
is by anticipation ; spoken rather as the hill was called when the history was 
written by Moses, than as it was saluted and ascended by Jacob, who abode 
in it till Laban overtook liim, where the pacified father and the departing 
son made their covenant. Laban called it Jegar-sahadutha, but Jacob called 
it Galeed, ver. 47. It signifies ' a heap of witnesses,' a name imposed by 
* Lib. i. de Doct. Christ,, cap. 31. 



Jku. VIIL •22.] PHYSIC from ueavkn. 377 

occasion of the heap of stones pitched for tlie league between them : ' Lalian 
said, Tliis lieap is a witness between me and thee this day. Therefore vras 
the name of it called Galeed,' ver. 48. There was one ' Gilcad, son of Machir, 
son of Manasseh,' of whom, because it is said that ' Machir begat Gilcad,' 
Num. xxvi. 2i), and of Gilcad came the family of the Giloaditos, some 
ascribe the attribution of this name to Mount Gilcad. But this mount had 
the name long before the son of ;Machir was born. This appears, Num. 
xxxii. 39/40. We read of it tliat it was, (1.) A great mountain ; (2.) Fniit- 
ful ; (3.) Full of cities ; (4.) Abounding with spices. 

(1.) It was a ffreat mountvin, the greatest of all beyond Jordan, in length 
fifty miles. But as it ran along by other coasts, it received divei-s names. 
From Arnon to the city Kcdar it is called Gilcad ; from thence to Bozra it 
is called Seir ; and after, Hermon ; so reaching to Damascus, it is joined to 
Libanus. So Hierome conceiteth on these words of God * unto the king s 
house of Judah : Thou art Gilead unto me, and the head of Lebanon,' Jer. 
xxii. 6 ; and therefore Lebanon is the beginning of Gilcad. 

(2.) Fruitful; abounding with great variety of necessaries and delights, 
yielding both pleasure and profit. This every part and comer thereof 
afforded, even as far as Mount Seir, which the Edomites, the generation of 
Esau, chose for a voluptuous habitation. This the children of Keuben, and 
the children of Gad, and half the tribe of Manasseh, when they saw the land 
of Gilead, that the place was a place for cattle. Num. xxxii. 1, desired of 
Moses and of the princes of the congregation that they might possess it, — 
' for it is a land for cattle, and thy servants have cattle,' — the condition that 
Moses required being by them granted, that ' they should go armed v.-itli their 
brethren,' till the expulsion of their enemies had given them a c^uiet seat in 
Canaan : ver. 25, ' Thy servants will do as my lord commandeth. Only 
our little ones, our Avives, our flocks, and all our cattle, shall be in the cities 
of Gilead;' Josh. L 12, 13. The fertility of Gilead contented them, though 
with the separation of Jordan from their brethren. Our Saviour describing 
the beauty of his spouse. Cant. iv. 1, 2, 'Behold, thou art fair, my love, 
behold thou art fair,' inwardly fair with the gifts of his Spirit, and outwardly 
fair in her comely administration and government : ' thou hast doves' eyes 
withbi thy locks,' thy eyes of understanding being full of purity, chastity, 
simplicity ; he adds withal, that ' her hah-,' her gracious profession, and ap- 
pendances of expedient ornaments, are as comely to behold ' as a flock of 
well-fed goats,' grazing and appearing 'on the fruitful hills of Gilead;' 
which made them so pregnant, that, ' like a flock of sheep, every one brings 
out twins, and none is barren among them,' Cant. iv. 5, 6. The same praise 
is redoubled by Christ, chap, vi., &c. 

(3.) It vf iia full of cities; a place so fertile, that it was full of inhabitants. 
' Jair, the Gilcadite, who judged Israel, had thirty sons that rode on thirty 
ass colts, and they had thirty cities, which are called Havoth-jair unto this 
day, which are in the land of Gdead,' Judg. x. 4. It was as populous as 
fructuous, and at once blessed with pregnancy both of fruits for the peo[)le 
and of people for the fruits. It was, before Israel conquered it, in the domi- 
nion of the Amorites, Num. xxxii. 39 ; and more specially of Og, king of 
Bashan, that remained of the remnant of the giants, Deut. iii. 11, whose 
' bedstead was a bedstead of iron, nine cubits long, and four cubits broad, 
after the cubit of a man.' It was not only full of strength in itself, but 
guarded with cities in the plain : ' All the cities in the plain, and all Gilcad, 
and all Bashan,' Arc, Deut. iii. 10. So the inheritance of Gad is reckoned 
by Joshua, ' Their coast was Jazer, and all the cities of Gilead,' chap. xiii. 25. 



378 PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [SeKMON XXI. 

It appears, then, that Gilead was full of cities, so blessed as if the heavens 
had made a covenant of good unto it, as Jacob did erst with Laban upon it. 
A hill of witness indeed, for it really testified God's mercy to Israel. God 
calls it his own : ' Gilead is . mine, Manasseh is mine,' Ps. cviii. 8. The 
principal or first name of kingdom, that usurping Ishbosheth was by Abner 
crowned over, was Gilead : ' And he made him king over Gilead, and over 
the Ashurites,' &c., 1 Sam. ii. 9. 

(4.) It was, lastly, a mountain of spices; and many strangers resorted 
thither for that merchandise. Even when the malicious brethren, having 
thrown innocent .Joseph into the pit, ' sat down,' in a secure neglectfulncss, 
*to eat bread : behold' — surely the Lord sent and directed — 'a company of 
Ishmaelites came from Gilead, with their camels, bearing spicery, and balm, 
and myrrh,' Gen. xxxvii. 25. By which it appears to be mons aromatitm, 
a hill of spices. Therefore God here, ' Is there no balm in Gilead 1 ' 

Obs. — The Jews were near to Gilead, it was but on the other side of 
Jordan. The fetching over their merchandise was no long and dangerous 
voyage. Yet was this spiritual balm nearer to them ; it lay like manna at 
their doors. Ve)iit ad limina virtus. ' The kingdom of heaven is among 
you,' saith Christ. There needed no great journey for natural physic, but 
less for spiritual comfort. Behold, God himself gives his vocal answers 
between the cherubims. Yet, alas! as it was once justly reproved on the 
monks, and such spiritual or rather carnal convents, in tliat night of Popery, 
that the nearer they were to the church the further from God ; so it was 
even verified of the Jews, that by how much they were of all next to the 
sanctuary, by so much of all remotest from sanctity. And therefore, he that 
once said, ' Gilead is mine,' Ps. Ix. 7, and of the temple in Judah, ' This is my 
house, called by my name,' Jer. vii. 10, afterward left both the hill of Gilead, 
and the Mount Zion, and the holy sanctuary, a prey to the Romans ; who 
left not ' a stone upon a stone ' to testify the ruins of it, or for succeeding 
ages to say, ' This was the temple of God.' Thus saith the prophet Hosea : 
' Gilead is a city of them that work iniquity, and is polluted with blood,' 
chap. vi. 8. Therefore God turned that ' fruitful land into barrenness, for the 
wickedness of them that dwelt therein,' Ps. cvii. 34. For not content with 
the fertility of their soil, they manured it with blood, saith the prophet. 
Hence no marvel if it became at last like the cursed mountains of Gilboa, 
that drank the blood of Saul and Jonathan, 2 Sam. i. 21. 

II. You have heard the balm ; the next subject that offers itself to our 
speech is the physicians. 'Is there no balm at Gilead; is there no physi- 
cian there V The prophets are allegorically called physicians, as the word is 
balm. So are the ministers of the gospel in due measure, in their place. To 
speak properly and fuUy, Christ is our only physician, and we are but his 
ministers, bound to apply his saving physic to the sickly souls of his people. 
It is he only that cures the carcase, the conscience. 

1. No physician can heal the body without him. The woman with the 
bloody issue was not bettered by her physicians, Mark v. 26, though she had 
emptied all her substance into their purses, till Christ undertook her cure. 
The leper in the 8th of Matthew, ver. 3, was as hopeless, as hapless, till he 
met with this physician ; and then the least touch of his finger healed him. 
Physicians deal often, not by extracting, but protracting the disease ; maldng 
rather diseases for their cure, than cures for diseases ; prolonging our sick- 
nesses by art, which nature, or rather nature's defect, hath not made .so tedious. 
Therefore, as one saith wittily, the best physic is to take no physic ; or, as 
another boldly, our new physic is worse than our old sickness. But when 



Jer. VIII. 22.] rnvsic from heaven. 379 

oiu- diseases be committed to this heavenly doctor, and he is pleased 
to take them m hand, our venture is without all ])eradventure, we 
shall be healed. The least touch of his finger, the breath of his mouth, 
can cast out the evil in us, can cast out the devil in us ; he can, he will 
cure us. 

2. No minister can heal the conscience where Christ hath not given a 
blessing to it. Otherwise he may lament with the prophet, ' I have laboured 
in vain, I have spent my strength for nought,' Isa. xlix. 4 ; or, as the 
Apostle, ' I have fished all night, and caught nothing ; yet at thy com- 
mand,' etc. ' Who then is Paul, or who is ApoUos, but ministers by whom 
ye believed, even as the Lord gave to every man ? I have planted, ApoUos 
watered ; but God gave the increase,' 1 Cor. iii. 5, 6. If any be blind, he is 
the oculist ; if any be lame, he sets the bones ; if any be wounded, he Ls 
the chirurgeon ; if any be sick, he is the physician. 

They write of the Indian physicians, that they cure the wound by sucking 
the poison. Christ heals after a manner, I know not whether more loving 
and strange, by taking the disease upon himself : ' Who his own self bare 
our sins in his own body on the tree,' 1 Pet. ii. 24. ' He was wounded for 
our transgressions, he was braised for our iniquities, and with his stripes we 
are healed ; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all,' Isa. liii. 
5, 6. As the scape-goat was said to ' bear upon him the sins of Israel,' Lev. 
xvi. 22, so saith the prophet of his antity^ie, Christ, morbos portavit nostras, 
' he hath borne our griefs,' Isa. liii. 4 ; too un.supportable a burden for our 
shoulders, able to sink us down to hell, as they did Cain and Judas, if they 
had been imposed. Tidit Jesus, — ' Christ carried our sorro\ys.' Never was 
such a physician, that changed healths -n-ith his sick patient. But he was 
humbled for us. Man's maker is made man, the Avorld's succourer takes 
suck, the ' bread ' is hungry, the ' fountain ' thirsty, the ' light ' sleepy, the 
'way' weary, the 'truth' accused, the 'judge' condemned; health itself is 
become sick, nay, dead, for our salvation. For man's sake (such was our 
weakness) Christ descended, (such was his kindness,) and took on him to 
cure us, (such was his goodness,) and performed it, (such was his greatness.) 
It was not Abana nor Phaqmr, nor all the rivers of Damascus, not the 
water of Jordan, though bathing in it seventy times, not Job's ' snow-water,' 
nor David's ' water of hyssop,' not the pool of Bethesda, though stirred mth 
a thousand angels, that was able to wash us clean. Only fiisus sanguis 
medici, factum medicamentum phrenetici, — the blood of the physician is spilt, 
that it may become a medicine of salvation to all believers. Tliis is the 
pelican, that preserves her young with her own blood. This is the goat, that 
with his warm gore breaks the adamants of our hearts. This is ' that Lamb 
of God,' that with his own blood ' takes away the sins of the world,' John i. 
29. When the oracle had told the king of Athens that himself must die in 
the battle, or his whole army perish, Codni.s, then king, never stuck at it, 
but obtruded his own life into the jaws of inevitable death, that he might 
save his people's. The King of heaven was more freely %\'illing to ' lay down 
his,' for the redemption of his .saints, when the eternal decree of God had pro 
pounded him the choice. Is there no means to recover the sick world, but I 
must die that it may live 1 Then take my life, quoth Life itself. Thus pro 
me doluit, qui non Juthuil, quod pro se doUret,* — he was made sick for me, 
that I might be made sound in him. 

This then Ls our physician, in whom alone is saving health. As Sybilla 
sung of him — 

* August. 



380 THYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [SeEMON XXI. 

^a^^a Xoyip rredrrojVj '^rajav rs vCaov '^nainhm. 

'Virgineus partus, inagnoque sequseva Parent! 
Progenies, superas coeli quce missa per auras, 
Autiquam geueris labem mortalibus segris 
Abluit, obstructique viam patefecit OlympL' 

* He wrought all things with his word, and healed every disease with his 
power.' To him let us resort, confessing our sores, our sorrows. ' They 
that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick,' Matt. ix. 12. 
' Foolish men, because of their iniquities, are afflicted ; that their soul ab- 
horreth all manner of meat, and they draw near to the gates of death. Yet 
they cry unto this physician, and he delivers them from their distress,' Ps. 
cvii. 17-19. So he hath promised in the Testament, both of his law and 
of his gospel : ' Call on me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee,' 
Ps. 1. 15. ' Come to me, all that are laden, and I will give you rest,' i\Iatt. 
xi. 28. There never went sorrowful beggar from his door without an alms. 
No marvel if he be not cured, that is opinionated of his own health. They 
say that the tench is the physician of fishes ; and they being hurt, come to 
him for cure. AH the fishes that are caught in the net of the gospel come 
to Christ, who is the King of physicians, and the Physician of kings. Come 
then to him, beloved, not as to a master in name only, as the la^vJ'er, Matt, 
xxii. 36, but as to a Saviour indeed, as the leper, Matt. viii. 2, ' Lord, if thou 
wilt, thou canst make me clean.' Non tanquam ad Dominum, titularem, 
sed tanquam ad Dominum tutelarem, as one elegantly. 

Ministers are physicians under Christ, sent only with his physic in their 
hands, and taught to apply it to our necessities. Neither the physician of 
the body nor of the soul can heal by any virtue inherent in, or derived from 
themselves. We must take all out of God's warehouse. God hath a double 
box — of nature, of grace ; as man hath a double sickness — of flesh, of spirit. 

1. The first box is mentioned Ecclus. xxxviii., 'The Lord hath created 
medicines out of the earth, and he that is wise will not abhor them.' God 
hath not scanted earth of drugs and minerals, the sunples of physic, for such 
as tread on it. And howsoever our vanity in health transport our thoughts, 
earth hath no more precious thing in it than, as sustenance to preserve, so 
medicine to restore us. You that have digged into the entrails of the dead 
earth, and not spared the bowels of the living earth, the poor, for riches : 
you that have set that at your heart which was cast down at the apostles' 
feet, money. Acts iv. 35, as fit only for sanctified men to tread upon in con- 
tempt : you that have neglected heaven, which God hath made your glorious 
ceiling, and richly stuck it, like a bright canopy, with burning lights, and 
doted on your pavement, made only for your feet to tread upon ; fixing your 
eyes and thoughts on that which God hath indisposed to be your object ; 
for man's countenance is erect, lessoning his soul to a just and holy aspira- 
tion : you that have put so fair for the philosopher's stone, that you have 
endeavoured to sublimate it out of poor men's bones, ground to powder by 
your oppressions : you that liave buried your gods so soon as you have found 
them out, as llaclicl did Laban's in the litter, and sit down with rest on 
them, saying to the Avedge, 'Thou art my confidence,' Job xxxi. 24 ; — when 
your heads ache, dissolve your gold, and drink it ; wallow your crazy carcase 
in your silver, wrap it in perfumes and silks, and try what ease it will afford 
you. Will not a silly and contemptible weed, prepared by a skilful physi- 
cian, give you more comfort? Doth not the common air, which you receive 
in and breathe out again, refresh you better? Mow eager are our desires of 



Jer. VIII. 22.] ruYsic fkom ue.iven. 381 

superfluities, how neglectful of necessaries ! This box of treasures hath God 
given us, and endued some with knowledge to minister them, lest our igno- 
rance might not rather prejudice than succour our healths. No physician, 
then, cures of himself, no nu)re than the hand feeds the mouth. The meat 
doth the one, the medicine doth the other ; though the physician and the 
hand he unsparcd* instruments to their several purposes. Thus God relieves 
our health from the box of nature. 

2. The other box is grace ; whence the divine draweth out .sundry remedies 
for our diseases of soul. This is not so common as that of nature. Once 
one nation had it of all the world, now all the world rather than that nation. 
But it is certain they have it only to whom the gospel is preached. It is 
indeed denied to none that do not deny their faith to it. Christ is ' that 
Lamb, that takes away rfiv ufzuoriav roij xoo/xou, the sin of the world,' John 
i. 29. But many want the physicians to teach and apply this. ' And how 
shall they preach except they be sent?' Rom. x. 15. Now, where these 
physicians are, is the people healed by any virtue derived from them ? Is it 
the perfumer that gives such sweet odours, or his perfumes ? ' Why look ye 
so earnestly on us, as though by our own power or holiness we had made 
this man to walk V Acts iii. 12. * Be it known to you all, that by the name 
of Jesus Christ of Nazareth doth this man stand whole before you,' chap. iv. 
10. ' Therefore,' saith St Paul, concludhig this doctrine so throughly handled, 
' let no man glory in men ; for all things are yours, whether Paul,' <kc. ; ' all 
are yours, and ye are Clu:ist's, and Christ is God's,' 1 Cor. iii. 21, &c. It is 
the tidings we bring that saves you, not our persons. Moses, that gave the 
law, could not frame his own heart to the obedience of it. It lies not in 
our power to beget faith in our own souls. ' The heart of the king is in the 
hands of God, as are the waters in the south.' The souls of all, prince and 
people, prophets and Nazarites, preachers and hearers, learned and ignorant, 
are converted by God, by whom they were created. It was the voice even 
of a prophet, ' Turn us, Lord, and so shall we be turned.' 

Use. — This consideration may serve to humble our hearts, whom God hath 
trusted with the dispensation of his oracles. It is a sacrilegious sin for any 
spiritual physician to ascribe God's doing to his own saying, and to make 
his glory cleave to earthen fingers. As Menecrates, a natural one, wrote in 
a certain epistle to Pliilip of Macedon : ' Thou art king of Macedon, I of 
physic. It lies in thy power to take health and life from men, in mine to 
give it.' So monstrous was liis pride, yet so applauded by the besotted citi- 
zens, that he marched with a train of gods after him : one in the habit of 
Hercules, another of ^Mercury, a third in the form of Apollo ; whilst himself, 
like Jupiter, walked with a purple robe, a crown of gold, and a sceptre ; 
boasting that by his art he could breathe life into men. Foolish clay ! he 
could not preserve himself from mouldering to dust. Ostentation in a spiri- 
tual physician is worse, by how nuich our profession teacheth us to be 
more humble. It Ls a high climbing pride in any pharisee, and injurious to 
the throne of God, to arrogate to himself a converting power. As in the 
fable, the fly sitting on the coach-wheel at the games of Olympia, gave out 
that it was she which made so great a du.st. Or as that malecontent in a 
deep melancholy, who hearing the winds blow furiously, thought it was only 
his breath which made all that blustering. It is God only that can turn 
the heart and turn the tongue, heal the body and help the soul. Let the 
instruments have just respect, God alone the praise. ' Honour the physi- 
cian with the honour due unto him : for the Lord hath created him,' Ecclu.s. 
* That is, incli.si)unsable. — Eu. 



382 PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [SeRMON XXI. 

sxxviii. 1 ; and * count the ■vvell-ruling elders wortliy of double Lionour,' 
1 Tim. V. 17. But let God be glorified, as the author of all, above all, 
for all. 

It hath pleased God to call his ministers by this title, physicians : many 
duties hence accrue to our instrviction. I cannot, I need not, dwell much 
on them ; for every one can lesson us that will not be lessoned by us. Not 
that we refuse knowledge from any lips, — since nothing can be said well but 
by God's Spirit, who sometimes reproves a Jonah by a mariner, a Peter by 
a silly damsel, a Balaam by an ass, — but because they whose lips God hath 
seasoned, sealed to preserve knowledge, are held contemptible, and their feet 
foul that bring the fairest message ; so the frantic patient beats the medicine 
about his ears that brings it. The prophets would have cured Jerusalem, 
behold Jerusalem killeth them ! You kill us still, though not in our natural, 
yet in our civil life, our reputation. We feel not your murderings, but your 
murmurings. Ishmael's tongue made him a persecutor, as well as Esau's 
hands. Only our God comforts us, as he did Samuel : ' They have not cast 
thee away, but they have cast me away, saith the Lord.' A word or two, 
therefore, concerning their care of your cure. 

1. The physician must apply himself to the nature of his patient : so the 
minister to the disposition of his hearer ; leading the gentle, and drawdng 
the refractory ; winning some with love, and ' pulling others out of the fire ; 
having compassion on some, and saving others with fear,' Jude 22, 23, 
iledicmnenti dosis J)to coeli et soli natura mutanda, — The prescription of the 
medicine must be diversified according to the nature of the soil and the air. 
He shall never cure men's consciences that looks not to their affections, 
' making a difference.' Paul testifieth of himself, ' I became to the Jews as 
a Jew, &c. ; to the weak as weak, that I might save the weak : I am made 
all things to all men, that by all means I might save some,' 1 Cor. ix. 20-22. 
We must vary our speecih to their weak understandings ; 'judgment to whom 
judgment, mercy to whom mercy belongs.' 

And you, beloved, must also apply yourselves to us ; not scorning your 
own .preacher, and running with itching ears to others, delighting rather in 
the variety of teachers than in the verity of doctrines. It fares with minis- 
ters as with fish, none so welcome as the new come. Set aside prejudice. 
The meanest preacher whom God hath sent you can shew you that which, 
if you obediently follow, shall effectually save your souls. The word is 
powerful, what instrument soever brings it ; and God's ' strength is made 
manifest in our weakness.' Hear all, despise none. And as we are bound 
to ' feed that flock whereof the Holy Ghost hath made us overseers,' Acts 
XX. 28 ; so do you content yourselves with that pastor whom God hath sent 
to feed you. Factions have thus been kindled, and how hardly are they ex- 
tinguished ! Whiles one is for Paul, another for ApoUos, a third for Cephas : 
or rather, (for these preserved one analogy of truth in their doctrine, and only 
differed in plainness and eloquence of speech,) when some are for Cephas, and 
others for Caiaphas ; some for apostles, and others for apostates ; some for 
sincere preachers, others for schismatical sectaries ; thus observing rather 
the diversity of instructors than the unity of truth ; — there arise, in the end, 
as many minds as men, as many sects as cities, as many gospels as gossips. 

2. The physician must not commit his patient's health to the apothecary. 
God hath trusted thee with his people's welfare, whom ' he hath purchased 
with his own blood :' thou must not be at thy man, and impose all on hun. 
It was the reason that the Roman's horse was so ill tended, himself so well : 
£Jr/o euro meipsuvi, Staiius vero C'puon, — I look to myself, but my man looks 



JeR. VIII. 22.] PHYSIC FROM HEAVEX. 383 

to my horse. Tlie like reason sometimes makes fat sliepberds and lean flocks. 
God hath placed us as mothers, to bear children unto him : now as we must 
not be barren, and bring forth none, Gal. iv. 19, so we must not, when we 
have them, put them furth to nurse. It is not more unkind in a natural, 
than unnatural in a spiritual mother. There is a necessary use of the apothe- 
cary, so of the reader. He that digs the ground is not to be despised, 
though a more exquisite gardener draws the knot. But it is dangerous to 
trust all on him, and do God's business by an attorney. God hath given 
thee the milk, that thou shouldest feed his sheep, and not put them over to 
an hireling, John x. 12, who sutlers the wolf to enter and tear the lambs, 
never breaking his sleep for the matter. Nut but that preaching may jacld to 
a more weighty dispensation. When the vaunts of some heretical Goliah 
shall draw us forth to encounter him with our pens against whcmi we cannot 
draw the swoi'd of our tongues ; when the greater busuiess of God's church 
shall warrant our non-residence to the inferior ; when one is called from 
being a mariner, and running about, to the office of a pilot, to sit still at the 
helm : then, and upon these grounds, we may be tolerated by another phy- 
.sician to serve our cures, — for so I find our charges, not without allusion to 
this metaphor, called, — a physician, I say ; that is, a skilful divine, not an 
illiterate apothecary, an insufficient reader. That mere reading of the Scrip- 
tures hath, and may save souls, who ever doubted 1 But that preaching 
with reading is more effectual, can it be denied I Oh, then, that any of the 
' sons of the prophets,' whom God hath blessed with laiowledge of his 
heavenly physic, should sit down on the chaii- of security, or shut themselves 
in the cells of obscurity, or chamber themselves perpetually in a college, or 
graze on the private commons of one man's benevolence, as Micah had his 
Levite to himself, whiles their gifts are not communicated to the church of 
God! 

Every sjnritual physician must keep his right ubi. It is well observed by 
Aretius, upon the occasional calling of Peter and Andrew when they were 
fishing, that God is wont to bless men especially when they are busied in 
their proper element : working, as the father charged his son, ' in his vme- 
yard,' Matt. xxi. 2S. Not in the wilderness of the world, nor in the labyrinth 
of lusts, nor in the field of covetousness, nor in the house of security, much 
less in the chamber of wantonness, or in the tavern of drunkenness, or theatre 
of lewdness, but in God's vineyard, their general or particular calling. Our 
vocations must be kept and followed ; not making ourselves magistrates in 
foreigTi commonwealths, bishops in others' dioceses, scalding our lii)s in our 
neighbours' pottage. When those shepherds heard the first glad tidings of 
Chri.st, they were ' attending their flocks by night in the field,' Luke ii. 8. 
Saul, going honestly about his fiither's business, met with a kingdom. And 
David was at the folds when Samuel came with the holy oil. We say, 
Fluribiis intentus, minor est ad singula sensus ; and, 3Iiles equis, Piscator 
aquis, &c. 

' Quod raedicoriim est 
Promittunt medici, tractant fabrilia fabri ; ' — * 

Let none prescribe physic but practitioners in that faculty ; none plead at the 
bar but lawyers. Let the .shoemaker look to his boot, the fisher to his boat, 
the scholar to his book. The husbandman inforo, the minister in choro. 

' Omnia cum facias, inimris cur facias nil ? 

Posthurae, rem solam qui facit, ille facit ; ' — t 

♦ Horat. t Martial. Epig., lib. iu. 



384 PHYSIC FEOM HEAVEN. [SeRMON XXI, 

He tliat would comprehend all tilings, apprehends nothing. As he that 
comes to a corn-heap, the more he opens his hand to take, the less he 
graspeth, the less he holdeth. Who would in omnibus aliquid, shall in toio 
nihil scire. When a man covets to be a doctor in all arts, he lightly proves 
a dunce in many. Let the natural physician apply his ministering, the 
spiritual his ministry. Quid enim in theatro renunciator turpium^''' Arc, — 
The idle sports of the theatre, the wicked crafts in the market, the gallant 
braveries of the court, must not hinder us, either to say service in the temple, 
or to do service for the temple. Clericus in ojjpido, jnscis in arido, as I 
have read. Rather, from the words of that father, if it be God's will that 
when Christ comes to judgment, inveniat me vel precantem vel prcedicantem, 
he may find me either praying, or preaching his holy word. 

Well, we have every one our own cures ; let us attend them. Let us not 
take and keep livings of a hundred or two hundred jDounds a-year, and allow 
a poor curate (to supply the voluntary negligence of our non-residence) eight 
or (perhaps somewhat bountifully) ten pounds yearly — scarce enough to 
maintain his body, not a doit for his study. He spoke sharply, (not untruly,) 
that called this usury, and terrible usury. Others take but ten in the hun- 
dred, these take a hundred for ten. What say you to those that undertake 
two, three, or four great cures, and physic them all by attorneys ! These 
physicians love not their patients, nor Christ himself, as he taught Peter ; 
which St Bernard thus comments on : ' Unless thy conscience bear thee 
witness that thou lovest me exceeding much, that is, phis quam tua, 2^li''S 
quam tuos, plus quam te, — more than thy goods, more than thy friends, more 
than thyself, — thou art not worthy to undertake this office.' t God hath made 
us superintendents of our charges, and bound us, as Paul adjured Timothy: 
'I charge thee before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge the 
quick and dead at his appearing, to preach the word, and be instant,' &c., 
2 Tim. iv. 1. Many are content with presidence, not with residence ; ac 
si victuri essent sine ciira, cum pervenerint ad curam, — as if they had for- 
gotten all care, when they have gotten a cure. This is not dispensanlis, sed 
dissijpantis offidxim gerere,% — to be a steward, but a loiterer in God's family. 
The physician sleeps in his study ; the apothecary, for want of judgment, 
takes a wrong medicine, or no medicine for the sick. The pastor is absent ; 
the hireling very often either preacheth idly or negligently, or not at all. 
And thus God's ' people are not recovered.' 

3. Physicians must not deal too much with that they call hlandum medi- 
camentum,yfhich. physicians thus describe : Blandum dicitur, quod viediocri 
tantum quaniitaie 'sumptiim, almim pigre et henigne movendo, jmuca dejidt. 
Spiritual physicians must beware how they give these soothing and supple 
medicines, which rather confirm the humours than disperse the tumours, or 
purge the crudities of sins in their patients. Rohustum corpus, multis oh- 
structionibus impeditum, hlanda imbecillaque medicamenta asj)ernatur. A 
soul settled, lUce Moab, ' on the lees,' or frozen in the dregs of inveterate and 
obstinate suis, is not stirred by fair and flattering documents. God com- 
plains in this chapter against those : ver. 11, 'They have healed the hurt of 
the daughter of my })eople sliglitly, saying, Peace, peace, when there is no 
peace.' Such are described, Ezck. xiii. 10, ' They have seduced my people, 
saying, Peace, and there is no peace : and one built up a wall, and, lo, others 
daubed it with untempered mortar.' God gives a terrible and universal 
threatening : ver. 15, 10, 'I will accomplish my wrath upon the wall, and 
upon them that have daubed it with mitempered mortar, and will say unto 
* AuLTust. t Scrm. 76 iu Cant. X Bern, 



JkR. VIII. 22.] PHYSIC FROM UEAVEN. 385 

you, The wall is no more, neither they that dauhod it.' He proceeds to 
command Ezekiel ' to prophesy against the women that prophesy to Israel : 
"Woe to the women that sew ])illuws to all arm-holes,' 6:c. This is shamefid 
in a preacher, to wink ;rt idolatry in Bethel, because it is the king's chapel ; 
and not to reprove the iniquity of Gilgal, the country of opprussinn, because 
himself feeds at an oppressor's table. Some are so weak that (as mulieres, 
quia moUiores, et pueri, quia ieneri, et ex longo morho remryentes, hlandiori^ 
bus egent medicinis) they cannot digest too strong a potion of reproof. 
Therefore, Jiede quod est rigidum, fove quod est frigidum, rege quod est 
devium, — bend the refractory, warm the cold, direct the wandering. 

I have read in a physician, that among many sophistications of this balm, 
sometimes they feign it with water, and then it runs above the water like 
oil; sometimes with honey, which is thus perceived — if you put a drop 
thereof into milk, it runneth to curds ! When ministers shall adulterate 
God's pure and sacred word with the honey or oil of their own flatteries, and 
give it to a sick soul, it is sn far from nourishing, as the sincere milk of the 
gospel should do, that it curdleth in the stomach, and endangers the con- 
scieiice worse. It is enough for physic if it be Avholesome. Not pleasant 
taste, but secret virtue, commends medicines. The doctrine that is sweet to 
flesh and blood hath just cause of suspicion. It is, without question, harsh 
to the appetite of either soul or body, that heals either. Not that we should 
only blow a trumpet of war against opposers, but sometimes, yea, often also, 
pipe mercy and gospel to those that will dance the measures of obedience. 
We must preach as well liberty to captives, as captivity to libertuies ; and 
build an ark for those that desire salvation, as pour forth a flood of curses 
against them that will perish ; and open the door to the penitent knockers, as 
keep the gate with a flaming sword in our mouths against the obstinate. If 
we harp somewhat more on the sad string of judgment, know that it is be- 
cause your sins are rifer and riper than your obedient works. We must free 
our souls, that we have not administered soothing sermons, lest at once we 
flatter and further you in your follies. You are apt enough to derive 
authority for your sins from our lives, and make our patterns patronages of 
your lewdness. As I wish that our life were not so bad, so withal that you 
would not outgo, outdo it in evil. You go dangerously far, whiles you make 
our weakness a warrant to your presumption. But if you fasten so wickedly 
on our vices, you shall never find countenance from our voices. We con- 
demn our own ills, and you for adventuring your souls to Satan on so silly 
advantage. Stand forth, and testify against us. Did we ever spare your 
usuries, depopulations, malice, frauds, ebriety, pride, swearing, contempt of 
holy things and duties ? Could any Pharisee ever tie our tongues with the 
strings of Judas's purse, and charm our connivance or silence with gifts 1 
Wretched men, if there be any such, guilty of so palpable adulation ; qui 
jyurpuram magis quam deum colunti Call them your own common slaves, 
not God's servants, that, to gain your least favours, are favourable to your 
greatest sins, and whilst they wm your credits, lose your souls. 

We must follow our Master, who gave us a commis.sion, and gives us 
direction to perfonn it. He came once with Pax vobis, — ' Peace be unto 
you,' Luke xxiv. 36 ; at another time with Vce vobis, — ' Woe be unto you 1' 
Matt, xxiii. 13. We must be like him, (who was that good Samaritan,) 
putting into your wounds as- well the searching wine of reprehension, to eat 
out the dead flesh, as the oil of consolation, to cheer your spirits : some- 
times, with Jeremiah's hammer, chap, xxiii 29, bniisiug your strength of 

VOL. L 2 B 



38G PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. [SeKIMON XXL 

•n-ickedness ; though here, with Jeremiah's balm, binding up your broken 
hearts. 

And for you, my brethren, know that the things which cure you do not 
evermore please you. Love not your palates above your souls. Thou liest 
sick of a bodily disease, and callest on the physician, not for well-relished, 
but healthful potions : thou receivest them spite of thy abhorring sto- 
mach, and being cured, both thankest and rewardest him. Thy soul is sick; 
God, thy best physician, unsent to, sends thee physic, perhaps the bitter pills 
of affliction, or sharp prescripts of repentance, by his word : thou loathest 
the savour, and wilt rather hazard thy soul than oftend thy flesh ; and when 
thou shouldest thank, grumblest at the physician. So far inferior is our love 
of the soul to that of our body, that for the one we had rather undergo any 
pains than death ; for the other, we rather choose a wilful sickness than a 
harsh remedy. 

Give, then, your physician leave to fit and apply his medicines ; and do 
not you teach him to teach you. Leave your old adjuration to your too 
obsequious chaplains, if there be any such yet remaining, Loqidndni jyla- 
centia, — ' Prophesy not unto us right things : speak unto us smooth things, 
prophesy deceits. Get you out of the way,' &c., Isa. xxx. 10, 11. Threaten 
your priests no longer with suits, and quereles, and expulsions from their 
poor vineyards, which you have erst robbed, because they bring you sour 
grapes, sharp wine of reproofs. Do not colour all your malice against them 
with the imputation of ill life to them, when you are indeed only fretted 
with their just reprehension of your impieties. Bar not the freedom of their 
tongues by tying them to conditions, This you shall say, and this not say, 
on pain of my displeasure. You may preach against sins, but not meddle 
with the Pope ; or you may inveigh against Rome and idolatry, so you touch 
not at my Herodias ; or you may tax lust, so you let me alone with Naboth's 
vineyard. As if the gospel might be preached with your limitations, and, for- 
saking the Holy Ghost, we must come to fetch direction from your lips. 

Jonah spared not great Nineveh, nor the great king of great Nineveh : 
why should we spare your sins that would save your souls ? You viill love 
us the better when you once love yourselves better. If any gain were more 
valuable than that of godliness, or any means more available than spiritual 
physic to your salvations, we would hearken to it and you. He that is 
wisest hath taught us it ; we are rebels, if we not obey it. Your exulcerated 
sores cannot be healed with incarnative salves. 

4. Spiritual physicians, no less than the secretaries of nature, must have 
knowledge and art. Empirics endanger not more bodies than idiotish priests 
souls, ilc that cannot pour healthful moisture and juice of life into the 
gasping spirit, and fill the veins that aflliction hath emptied, deserves not the 
name of a spiritual physician. Arts have their use, and human learning is 
not to be despised, so long as, like an obedient Hagar, she serves Sarah with 
necessary help. Only let the book of God stand highest in our estimation, 
as it is in God's elevation, and let all the sheaves do homage to it. But 
empirics cannot brook Craterus, saith the proverb ; sottish enthusiasts con- 
demn all learning, all premeditation. This is to tie the Holy Ghost to a pen 
and inkhorn, &c. Tlicy nuist run away vnth their sermons, as horses with 
an empty cart. But now he that will fly into God's mysteries with such 
sick feathers, shall be found to flag low with a broken pinion, or soaring too 
high, without sober direction, endanger himself. Barbarism is gross in an 
orator, ignorance in a physician, dulncss in an advocate, rudeness in a minis- 
ter. Christ chose fishermen, Init made them fishers of men : gave them a 



JeE. VIII. 22.] PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. 387 

calling, and virtues for it. Shall therefore any fantastical spirit think that 
Christ's singular action is our general pattern ? As if men were the more 
faulty, the more fit ; the more silly, the more sufficient. Christ so furnished 
his with knowledge and language, Acts ii. 6, that the people ' wondered at 
their wisdom,' and knew, or rather ' acknowledged, that they had been with 
Jesus,' chap. iv. 13. 

It is said of empirics that they have but one medicine for all diseases. If 
that cure not, they know not how to do it. But the ' scribe instructed from 
heaven,' and instructing for heaven, ' draws out his treasure, both old and 
new/ wliich he hath carefully laid up by his former study. High points for 
forward scholars ; easier lessons for those in a lower form. To children, 
milk ; such things as may nourish, not oppress — apta, non alta : to the pro- 
found, as Demosthenes said he desired to speak, non mndo scripta, sed eliam 
sculpta, — matters of weight and diligence. The truth is, that we must preach 
Christ, not ourselves, and regard the people's benefit more than our own 
credit, being content to lose ourselves to win others to God. And to this 
purpose is required learning : as a physician is not less knowing because he 
gives an easy and common receipt to a certain patient, but rather out of his 
judgment finds that fittest for him. It is no small learning to illustrate 
obscurities, to clear the subtleties of the school, to open God's m3'steries to 
simple understandings, to buUd up the weak, and pull down the confident in 
their own strengths. This shaU discharge a man from the imputation of 
^literature, as well as to preach riddles and paradoxes, which the people may 
admire, and not ai)prehend, and make that frivolous use of aU, ' This was a 
deep sermon.' Learning is requisite, or thou art but an empiric. How many 
Paracelsian mountebanks have been the worst diseases to the commonwealth 
they live in, whiles they purge away the good humours and leave the bad 
behind them ! Your Popish teachers were such ill purgers, draining out the 
good blood of religion from the veins of the land, and pouring in feculent 
corruptions, ridiculous fopperies, magical poisons instead thereof ; giving a 
mass for a communion, an image for the Bible, stage-apishness for a sober 
sermon ; allo\ving cither no Scripture or new Scripture ; so suppressing the 
words and stifling the sense, that hiding away the gold, they throw their 
people the bag. 

5. Good physicians must not aim more at their own wealth than their 
patients' health. Indeed the spiritual ' labourer is worthy of his hire ; ' but 
if he labour for hire only, he may. make himself merry with his reward on 
earth, heaven hath none for him. That good is well done that is done of 
conscience. The pastor feeds Christ's sheep for his own gain ; the sheep are 
fed ; Christ gives him no thanks for his labour. Peter made three mannc? 
of fishings : he caught fish for money, fish with money, fish without money. 
The first was his temporal trade ; the second, a miraculous and .singidar action ; 
the last, his spiritual function. Some are of all these sorts : the worst now 
is, to fish for the twenty pence. Piscantur ut adipiscantur, non homines, sed 
hominum, — They labour hard to take, not men, but men's, 2 Cor. xii. 14. 
Peter's successors called, Simon's* successors not doubted, have so fi.shod this 
many a hundred years, not with the draw-net of the gospel, but witli the purse- 
net of avarice. There are too many such sUver-fi.shers, that angle only for the 
tributary fish ; too many of those i)hysicians, that set up their bills and offer 
thou- service and cure, not where tlie people are sickest, but where they arc 
most liberal. Some will not practise except they have three or four parishes 

* i.e., The Popes call themselves succeesors of Peter ; we acknowledge them to bo 
successors of Simon Magus. — Ed. 



388 PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN-. [SeEMON XXI. 

under their cure at once : these are physicians, not for church, but steeples. 
Some are wandering empirics, that when they come to minister, spend all the 
time in a cracking ostentation of their cures, or demonstration of their skill 
in pictures and tables, never approving it to their credulous patients : these 
are bragging physicians. 

Some minister only opium to their people, and so lull them in their sick 
security : these are dull physicians. Some minister medicines, not to ease 
their stomachs of the burden of their sins, but to put lightness into their 
brains, scaring religion out of the wits : these are schismatical physicians. 
Some minister antichristian poisons, to breed the plague of idolatry among 
the people : these are Seminary physicians. Others of this sect, living from 
us by a sea-division, yet send over venomous prescripts, binding princes' 
subjects to treasons and homicides: these are devilish physicians. Some 
will sell their knowledge for a meal's meat : these are table-physicians. Some 
minister in this place, in that place, in every place, in no place : these are 
ubiquitary physicians. Some minister nothing but what they glean from 
others' precepts, wanting skill to apply it : these are like physicians, but are 
none. Some ring the changes of opinions, and run a serpentine course ; ab- 
juring now what yesterday they embraced and warranted; winding from 
error to error, as dolphins in the water; turning like vanes on the house- 
top, with every new blast of doctrine ; reeds shaken with every gust, contrary 
to the testimony of John Baptist : these are gadding, madding physicians. 
Some will minister nothing but what comes next into their heads and hands : 
these are enthusiastical physicians. Some again, — I will not say many, — 
practise only for commodity, and to purge others' wealth into their own 
purses : these are mercenary physicians. 

Avarice, saith a grave divine, is a sin in any man, heresy in a clergyman. 
The Papists have an order that profess wilful poverty; but some of them 
profess it so long, till they sweep all the riches of the land into their own 
laps. The purse is still the white they level at, as I have read them de- 
scribed : the Capuchins shooting from the purse, the Franciscans aiming wide 
of it, the Jesuits hitting it pat in the midst. So with long, er at least 
tedious prayers, as the Pharisees, they prey upon the poor, and devour their 
houses. Spiiitual physicians should abhor such covetous desires. Sunt qui 
scire volunt, ut scientiam suam venclant, et turpis qucesius est* — They that 
get knowledge to sell it, make a wretched gain. IVon vitce docent, sed cnt- 
mence. Seneca affirms that the commonwealth hath no worse men : quam 
qui philosophiam, vet ut aliquod artijicium venale, didicerunt.\ Miserable 
men, that look to their own good more than the church's ; serving God in 
their parts,, themselves in their hearts ; working, like those builders in the 
ark, rather for present gain than future safety. But as they desire rather 
nostra quam nos, so they preserve rather sua quam se; winning, like Dcmas, 
the world, and losing, like Judas, their souls. I have read in the fable of a 
widow, that being thick-sighted, sent to a certain physician to cure her : he 
promiseth it to her, and she to him a sum of money for satisfaction. The 
physician comes and applies medicines, which being bound over her eyes, 
still as he departs he carries away with him some of her best goods; so con- 
tinuing her pains and his labour till he had robbed the house of her best 
substance. At last he demanded of her, being now cured, his covenanted 
pay. She looking about her house, and missing her goods, told him that he 
had not cured her : for whereas before she could see some furniture in her 
house, now she could perceive none; she was erst thick-sighted, but now 
♦ Bern, in Cant. f Sen., lib. xix., ep. 1. 



Jer. VIII. 22.] rnYsic from heaven. 389 

purblind. You can apply it without help. Well, these spiritual physicians 
are only good that propound to themselves no gain but to heal the broken, 
recover the lost, and bring home the wandering lambs to the shcepfolds of 
peace; jeoparding a joint to save a sick conscience; -with ^foses and Paul, 
not respecting the loss of them.selves, whiles they may replenish the kingdom 
of Chri.st. 

III. These are the physicians. It remains that I should shew who are the 
sich; for whose cause God hath prepared balm, and iu.spired phy.sicians with 
skill to minister it. But the time runs away so fa.st, and you are as hasty 
to be gone as it; and this subject is fitter for a whole sermon than a con- 
clusion; and, lastl}', I have evermore declined your molestation by prolixity: 
therefore I reserve it to another opportunity. If you shall judge this that 
hath been spoken worthy your meditation, — laying it afl'ectionately to your 
hearts, and producing it eflfectually in your lives, — that God who gave me 
power to begin this work, will also assist me to finish it, without whom nei- 
ther my tongue can utter, nor your ear receive, any saving benefit of instruc- 
tion. A word or two for exhortation, and then I will leave all in your 
bosoms, and yourselves in the bosom of God. First, for us, the physicians; 
then for you, the patients, only so far as may concern you in the former 
point. For us — 

1. "We must administer the means of your redress which our God hath 
taught us, doing it in cUlectione, with love, with alacrity. Though it be true 
that the thing which perisheth shall perish, John xvii. 11, and they which are 
ordained to perdition cannot by us be rescued out of the wolf's jaws; yet 
spiritual physicians must not deny their help, lest diim alios perdant, ipsi 
pereant, — whiles their silence damnifieth others, it also daiimeth themselves, 
' When I say unto the wicked,' saith the Lord, ' Thou shalt surely die ; and 
thou givest him no warning to save his life ; the same wicked man shall die 
in his iniquity; but Ms blood will I require at thine hand,' Ezek. iii. 18. 
The phy.sician knows, that if the time of his patient's life be now determined 
by God, no art can presei-ve his taper from going out ; yet because he know.s 
not God's hidden purpose, he withholds not his endeavour. To censure who 
shall be saved, who damned, is not judicium luti, scd jigidi^' the judgment 
of the clay, but of the potter, ' who only hath power of the same lump to 
make one vessel to honour, another to dishonour,' Rom. ix. 21. We know 
not this, therefore we cease not to ' beseech your reconciliation.' Nay, * we 
are ambassadors for Christ, as though God doth beseech you by us ; and we 
pray you in Christ's .stead, be ye reconciled to God,' 2 Cor. v. 20. Thus 
having applied our physic, we leave the success to God, who alone can make 
his word the savour of death or of Ufe, preserving or condemning, destructive 
to your sins or yourselves, as his good pleasure wills it. 

2. The physician that lives among many i)atients, if he would have them 
tenderly and carefully preserve their healths, nmst himself keep a good diet 
among them. It is a .strong argument to persuade the goodness of that he 
admmisters. The clergyman's strict diet of abstinence from enormities, of 
fasting and prayer against the surfeits of sin, of repentance for errors, is a 
powerful inclination to his people to do the like. Hahet, quantacumque 
granditcde dictionis, viajus pondu^ vita dice}i(is,f — The preaching of life is 
made more forcible by the good life of the preacher. Prava vita est qmedam 
machina ad subruendum mcjenia, &c., — An evil conversation is an evil engine 
to overthrow the Walls of edification. Citharisante ahhatc, iripudiant mon- 
achi, — When the abbot gives the music of a good cxami)lo, tlic monks dance 

* Aug. t Aug. do Doctr. Chiist. 



3 DO PHYSIC PROM HEAVKN, [SeRMON XXI. 

after liim ; as was their proverb : Plene dixit, qui bene vixit, — He liatli spoken 
fuEy that hath lived fairly. There are four sorts of these physicians : — 

(1.) That neither prescribe well to others, nor live well themselves : these 
are not physicians indeed, but Italian quack-salvers, that having drunk poison 
themselves, minister it to tlie people ; and so destroy the souls that God 
hath bought with his blood. Wretched priests, that are indeed the worst 
diseases ; allowing in precept, and approving in practice, the riot of drunken- 
ness, or the heat of lustfulness, or the baseness of covetise, or the frenzy of 
contention. These, instead of building up Christ's church, pull it down with 
both hands ; not lux, but tenehrce mundi, — not the light, as ministers should 
be, but the darkness of the world, as the sons of Belial are. A foolish shep- 
herd is God's punishment to the flock : ' Lo, I will raise up a shepherd 
which shall not visit those that be cut off, nor seek the young one, nor heal 
that which is broken ; but he shall eat the flesh of the fat, and tear their 
claws in pieces,' Zech. xi. 16. 

(2.) That prescribe well in the pulpit, but live disorderly out of it ; so 
making their patients believe that there is no necessity of so strict a diet as 
the)' are enjoined, for then sure the physician himself would keep it ; since 
it cannot be but he loves his own life, and holds his soul as dear to himself 
as ours are to us. Thus like a young scribbler, what he writes fair with his 
hand, his sleeve comes after and blots it; this priest builds up God's taber- 
nacle with one hand, and puUs it down with the other. Though this physi- 
cian can make very good bills, preach good directions, yet, as sick as he is, 
he takes none of them himself. 

(3.) That prescribes very ill, preacheth seditiously and lewdly, yet lives 
without any notorious crime, or scandalous imputation. This is a hypo- 
critical trick of heretical physicians. ' Beware of false prophets, that come 
to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravening wolves,' Matt. vii. 15. 
Thus the Popish friars, like the fiilse visionists in Zechariah's prophecy, will 
' wear a rough garment to deceive withal,' chap. xiii. 4. Their austerity shaU 
be stricter than John Baptist's, but not with intent to bring one soul to 
Christ. This cautelous demureness in them so bcwitcheth their patients, that 
they receive whatsoever these administer, though it poisons them. Thus 
covered over with the mantle of sobriety and zeal, as a crafty apothecary 
vends his drugs, so they their dregs, without suspicion. To keep the meta- 
phor : as a natural physician, out of honest policy, covers the bitter pill with 
gold, or delays the distasteful potion with sugar, which the abhorring stomach 
would not else take ; so this mystical one (for he is a servant to the mystery 
of iniquity) so amazeth the people with a fair show of outward sanctimony, 
that whiles they gaze at his good parts with admiration, they s\^•allow the 
venom of his doctrine without suspicion. 

(4.) That teacheth well, and liveth well : prescribeth a good diet of obedi- 
ence, and keeps it when he is well ; or a good medicine of repentance, and 
takes it when he is sick ; thus both by preaching and practice recovering the 
health of Israel. We require in a good garment that the cloth be good, and 
the shape fitting. If we preach well and live ill, our cloth is good, but not 
our fashion. If we live well and preach ill, our fashion is good, but our 
cloth is not. If we both preach well and live well, our garment is good ; 
let every spiritual physician weave it, and wear it. 

This for ourselves. I'or you, I will contract all into these three uses, 
which necessarily arise from the present or precedent consideration : — 

1. Despise not your physicians. You forbear indeed (as the Pagans at 
first, and the Papists since) to kill, burn, torture us — whether it be your 



JeU. VIII. 22.] PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. 3'Jl 

good-will, or the law you live uncler, that prevails with you, God kuow.s, — 
yet you proceed to persecute us with your tongues, as Islimael smote Isaac ; 
to martyr us with your scorus iu our civil life, our good names. In dis- 
countenancing our sermons, discouraging our zeals, discrediting our lives, 
you raise civil, or rather uncivil, persecutions against us. By these you 
exercise our patience, which yet we can bear, whiles the blow given us, by a 
manifest rebound, doth not strike our God. But pe?- nostra latera petiiur 
ecclesia, impetUur Christus, — when as through our sides you wound the 
church, nay, Christ himself, it is stupidity in us to be silent. Christ, when 
the glory of his Father was interested, and called into question by their 
calumniations, took on him a just apology : ' I have not a devil, but I hon- 
our my Father,' John viii. 49. ' If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the 
evil ; but if well, why smitest thou me V chap. x\'iii. 23. 

We have comfort enough, that we can sufl'cr this martpdom for Christ's 
sake, being blessed by the peace of our times from a worse. The courtier 
cares not so much for the estimation of his fellows, so his prince approves 
and loves him. Let God be pleased with our innocency, and your base 
aspersions of scandals against us shall not much move our minds. ' The 
ministers of God must approve themselves in much patience, in afflictions,' 
&c., 2 Cor. vi. 4. Our war is ferendo, non feriendo. The mitre is for Aaron, 
not the smiter. We must encounter with beasts iu the shape of men, 1 Cor. 
XV. 32 ; with wolves in the coats of sheep. Matt. vii. 15; wth devils in the 
habit of angels; with unreasonable and wicked men, 2 Thess. iii. 2; therefore 
' we have need of patience,' Heb. x. 36. Indignities that touch our private 
persons may be dissembled, or returned with Isaac's apology of patience, of 
silence. As Augustine answered Petilian : Fossianus esse in his pariter co- 
piosi, nolumus esse pariter vani, — You do in event not so much wrong us as 
yourselves. You ' foam out your own shame,' and bewray your wretched, I 
had almost said reprobate, mahce ; for such are ' set down in the scat of the 
scornful,' Ps. i. 1, which the prophet makes a low step to damnation. God 
shall ' laugh you to scorn,' Ps. ii. 4, for laughing his to scorn ; and at last 
despise you, that have despised him in us. In expuentls recidit facicm, quod 
in coelum expuit, — That which a man spits against heaven shall fall back 
on his own face. Your indignities done to your spiritual physicians shall 
not sleep in the dust wdth your ashes, but stand up against your souls in 
judgment. 

2. If your physician be worthy blame, yet sport not, with cursed Ham, 
at your father's nakedness. Our life, our life is the derision that .sticks in 
our jaw.s, tiU you spet it out agauist us. I would to God our lives were 
no less pure than are — even these our enemies being judges — our doctrines. 
Be it freely acknowledged that in some it is afault. Our life should be the 
counterpart of our doctrine. We are vines, and should, like that in Jotham's 
parable, 'cheer both God and man,' Judg. ix. 13. The player that misacts 
an inferior and unnoted part, carries it away without censure ; but if he shall 
play some emperor, or part of observation, unworthily, the spectators are 
ready to hiss him off. The minister represents, you say, no mean person, 
that might give toleration to his ahsurdities, but the Prince of heaven ; and 
therefore .should be ' holy, as his heavenly Father is.' Be it confessed ; and 
woe is us, we cannot help it. But you should put difference betwixt habi- 
tual vices, nourished by custom, prosecuted by violence, and infirm or in- 
voluntary offences. 

The truth is also, that you, who will not have ears to hear God's word, 
will yet have eyes to observe our ways. How many of you have sunlas 



392 PHYSIC moM heaven. [Seemon XXL 

awes, oculos emissiiios, adders' ears, but eagles' eyes ; together with critical 
tongues and hypocritical looks ! You should (and will not) know, that our 
words, not our works, bring you to heaven. Examples are good further- 
ances, but ex prceceptis vivitur, — we must live by precepts. If you have a 
Chiistian desire of our reformation, cease your obstreperous clamours and 
divulging slanders, the infectious breathings of your corruption and malice ; 
and reprove us with ' the spirit of meekness,' to our foreheads. If we neither 
clear ourselves from imputed guiltiuess, nor amend the justly reproved faults, 
nor kindly embrace your loving admonitions, proceed to your impartial 
censures. But still know, that we are nothing in ourselves ; though we be 
called lux mundi, ' the light of the world,' yet solummodo lex est Inx, God's 
word is the light that must conduct your believing and obeying souls to the 
land of promise. Did we live like angels, and yet had our lips sealed up 
from teaching you, you might stiU remaui in your sins. For it is not an 
ignorant imitatiqn of goodness, but a sound faith in Christ, never destitute 
of knowledge and obedience, that must save you in the day of the Lord 
Jesus. 

3. Lastly, let this teach you to get yourselves familiar acquaintance with 
the Scriptures -, that if you be put to it, in the absence of your physician, 
you may yet help yourselves. We store our memories, and (perhaps not 
trusting them) our books, with divers receipts for ordinary diseases. Whom 
almost shaU you meet, whiles you complain of an ague, of the toothache, of 
a sore, but he will tell you a salve or a medicine for it 1 Alas ! are our souls 
less precious, or their wounds, griefs, sicknesses easilier cured, that we keep 
the closets of our consciences empty of medicines for them 1 The Jews were 
commanded to write the laws of God on their walls, &c. God writes them 
on the Christian's heart, Heb. viii. 10. So David found it: 'Thy law is 
within my heart.' This is true acquaintance with it. It is our Master's 
charge, if at least we are his servants : ' Search the Scriptures, for in them 
is eternal life,' John v. 39. We plead that our faith is our evidence for 
heaven ; it is a poor evidence that wants the seal of the Scriptures. 

It was the weapon that the Son of God himself used to beat back the as- 
saults of the devil. Many ignorant persons defy the devU, — ' They will 
shield themselves from Satan, as well as the best that teach them ; the foul 
fiend shall have no power over them,' — yet continue an obstinate course of 
life. As if the devil were a babe, to be outfaced with a word of defiance. 
It is a lamentable way, to brave a lion, and yet come within his clutches. 
He will bear with thy hot words, so he may get thy cold soul. The weapon 
that must encounter and conquer him is * the sword of the Spiiit, the word 
of God.' No hour is free from his temptations, that we had need to lodge 
with God's book in our bosoms. Who knows where he shall receive his next 
wound, or of what kind the sickness of his soul shall be ? The minister can- 
not be present with every one, and at every time. Satan is never idle ; it 
is the trade of his delight to spill souls. Lay all these together, and then, 
in the fear of God, judge whether you can be safe whUcs you are ignorant 
of the Scriptures. This is the garden of Eden, whence run those four rivers : 
of tvisdom, to direct us ; of oil, to soften us ; of comforts, to refresh us ; of 
promises, to confirm us. 

As lightly as you regard tlie word, and as slightly as you learn it, you 
shall one day find more comfort in it than in all the world. Lie you on 
your deathljeds, groan you with tlie pangs of nature-oppressing death, or 
labour you with the throbs of an anguished conscience, when neither natural 
nor spiritual physician stands by you to give you succour, — then, oh then. 



JliR. VIII. 22.] PHYSIC FROM HEAVEN. 303 

one dram of your old store, taken from the treasury of the Scriptures, shall 
be unto you of inestimable comfort ! Then well fare a medicine at a pinch, 
a drop of this balm ready for a sudden wound, which your memory shall 
reach forth, and your faith apjily to your diseased souls, afflicted hearts. 
Think seriously of this, and recall God's book from banishment and the laud 
of forgetfulness, whither your security hath sent it. Shake otf the dust of 
neglect from the cover, and wear out the leaves with turning ; continually im- 
ploring the assistance of God's Spirit, that you may read with understanding, 
understand with memory, and remember with comfort ; that your soul's 
closet may never be unstoned of those heavenly receipts which may ease 
your griefs, ciire your wounds, e.\[)el your sicknesses, preserve your healths, 
and keep you safe to the coming of Jesus Christ. Trust not all on your 
ministers, no, nor on yourselves, but trust on the mercies of God, and the 
merits of our blessed Saviour. Nothing now remains but to shew you in 
what need you stand of this physic, by reason of your ill healths, and the 
infected air of this world you breathe in. Meantime, preserve you these 
instructions, and God preserve you with his mercies ! For which let us 
pray, &c. 



ENGLAND'S SICKNESS. 



Is there no halm in Gilead ; is there no physician there ? why then is not tlie 
health of the daughter of my people recovered ? — Jer. VIII. 22. 

Sick is the daughter of Sion ; and the complexion of England gives her not 
to be sound. If she feel her own pulse, and examine the symptoms of her 
iUness, her Avorks of disobedience, she must confess that her health is im- 
paired ; or if she feel it not, she is obstupefied. 

The coast I am bound for is Israel ; but, like faithful merchants, if I can 
traffic or transport thence any good commodity into our own country, I will 
venture the welcome of it. Israel and England, though they lie in a diverse 
climate, may be said right parallels ; not so unfit in cosmographical, as fit in 
theological comparison. And, saving Israel's apostasy, and punishment for 
it, we need not think it harsh to be sampled. They could plead much of 
God's mercy ; if we can speak of more, let us thankfully embrace our trans- 
cen^dent happiness. 

Two main passages are directed my discourse to sail through, which shall 
limit my speech and your attention for this time : — I. The patient; II. The 
]jassion: the sick, and the disease. The person labouring of grief is the 
' daughter ' of Israel ; her imssion or grief is sickness : ' Why is not the health 
of the daughter of my people recovered?' These two coasts will aff"ord us 
many subordinate observations, worthy both our travels. 

I. The patient, whom we must visit, is described, 1. Qua; sit; 2. Cujiis 
sit. God speaks of her, 1. Positively ; 2. Possessively : positivelj'", what 
she is of herself, ' the daughter of the people ;' possessively, what she is by 
relation, in regard of her owner, popmli mei, God's people. 

1. Daughter. Tins title is usual according to Hebraism. 'Daughter of 
Israel,' for Israel; 'Daughter of Zion,' for Zion, Isa. Ixii. 11, 'Say ye to the 
daughter of Zion, Behold, thy salvation cometh,' &c. ; ' Daughter of Judah,' 
for Judah, Lam. i. 15, ' The Lord hath trodden the daughter of Judah as in a 
wine-press ;' ' Daughter of Jerusalem,' for Jerusalem, Lam. ii. 13 ; ' Daughter 
of Babylon,' for Babylon, Ps. cxxxvii. 8, ' O daughter of Babylon, who art 
to be destroyed,' &c. So Christ calls himself the Son of man, because he 
took on him man's nature : Isa. xxi. 10, ' O my threshing, and the son of 
my floor,' for the fioor itself, or the corn of it. And Augustine observes on 
the 7 2d Psalm, that by 'the children of the poor,' is meant the poor them- 
selves. This is an abstractive phrase, and vox indulgentis; implying pro- 



Jkr. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 395 

pcnse favour in tlie speaker, and tenderness in the person spoken of ; filia 
popidi. It is a word of relation, simply taken ; for daughter depends on 
the respect of parent. Here it is phrasical, and therefore not to be forced. 
Yet because cuncke apices, every letter and accent in holy writ is divinely 
significant, let us not neglectfully pass it over without some useful observar 
tion. 

Ohs. 1. — There is somewhat in it that filia nonfiliiis dicilur, the name of 
daughter, not of son, is here given to Israel. Israel's offspring must be a 
daughter, that she may be married to the God of Israel's Son. Christ is 
the beloved, the church is his spouse : ' My beloved is mine, and I am his : 
he feedeth among the lilies,' Cant. iL IG. Betrothed to him m this life : ' I 
will betroth thee unto me for ever : yea, I will betroth thee unto me in 
righteousness,' &c., Hosea ii. 19. Solemnly married hi the next : at what 
time the saints shall sing, ' Let us be glad and rejoice, and give honour to him : 
for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready,' 
llev. xix. 7 ; and, ver. 9, * Blessed are they that are called to the marriage 
supper of the Lamb.' Thus God the Father, that had a Son by eternal 
generation, hath now a daughter also by adoption. Hence the church is 
called the king's daughter — Ps. xlv. 1 3, ' The king's daughter is all glori- 
ous within ; her clothing is of wrought gold ' — because she is wedded to the 
king's Son. God is a Father in many respects : — 

(1.) In creation : Deut. xxxii. 6, ' Is not he thy father that hath bought 
thee ? Hath he not made thee, and established thee ? ' He gave us aU 
essentiani et foiinam, subsistence and form. 

(2.) In education : Isa. i. 12, 'I have nourished and brought up children, 
and they have rebelled against me.' "We are brought up m the house of 
this world, and fed from the table of his blessings. 

(3.) In comjMrison : Ps. ciii. 13, 'Like as a father pitieth his children, 
so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.' Yield that a mother (which is rare 
and unnatural) can forget the son of her womb ; yet God cannot forget the 
children of his election. 

(4.) In correction : Heb. xii. G, ' Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, 
and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.' Qui excipitur d, numero Jlagel- 
latorum, excipitur d, numero filiomm, — He that scapes afiliction, may suspect 
his adoption. We are not exempted from misery, that we may not be ex- 
cepted from mercy. The rod walks over us, lest we should grow wanton 
with his blessings. 

{•).) In adoption, and that most principally : Eom. viii. 15, 16, * We have 
received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry Abba, Father.' Gal. iv. 5, 
' God sent his Son, made of a woman, that we, redeemed by him, might receive 
the adoption of sons.' 

All these may be reduced to three : God is a Father, singularly, generally, 
specially. Singularly, the Father of Christ by nature ; generally, the Father 
of aU men and all things by creation ; specially, the Father of the elect by 
adoption. The first privilege belongs only to Christ; the second to many 
who have made themselves by apostasy the children of Belial; the third 
is blessed, and never to be forfeited. 

Tliis is a happy advancement, that the daughter of Zion is made the 
daughter of God; whom his equal and eternal Son hath vouchsafed to 
marry. It was no small preferment in David's opinion, by wcddhig Saul's 
daughter, to be made ' son-in-law to a king :' how far higher doth the 
church's honour transcend, that by marrying the Son of God is made 
daughter-in-law to the King of kings ! Specially, when this bond is indis- 



39G England's sickness. [Seemon XXII. 

soluble by the hand of death, uncancellable by the sentence of man, undi- 
vorceable by any defect or default in the spouse ; for he that chose her to 
himself will preserve her from all cause why he may not ' take pleasure in 
her beauty.' And as Christ, now in heaven, dwells with his church on earth 
by grace ; so she, though partly now on earth, dwells with him in heaven : 
all her members being burgesses of that celestial corporation, since animtbs 
est, uhi amat, non ubi animat. Phil. iii. 20, ' Our conversation is m heaven, 
whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ.' Thus Augu- 
stine, Et ille adhuc deorsum est, et 'iios jam sursujii, — His mercies are still 
descending to us, our affections ascending to him. The desires of the faith- 
ful spouse are with her beloved. Such is the insolubility of that mystical 
union, which no eloquence of man can express, no violence of devUs shall 
suppress. Therefore ascendamus interim corde, ut sequamur corpore, — let us 
send up our affections before, that our persons may follow after. As Christ 
hath sent thee down his Spirit as a pawn and pledge of this assurance, so 
do thou send him up thy heart for a token of thy acceptance ; yea, of 
thy hopeful expectation and desire to be with him. Minus aiiima promisit 
se Christo, quae non j^^'c^misit se Christo, — That soul hath nothing less than 
vowed itself to Christ, that hovers and hankers about the world, and is 
loath to come at him. 

This is ineffable, inestimable happiness. Hence the daughter of Israel, 
(understand me not topically, but typically,) not Israel in the flesh, but the 
' Israel of God,' Gal. vi. 1 6, — ' children of that Jerusalem which is above,' 
chap. iv. 26, or at least 'from above,' — doth apportion all the riches of her 
husband. If it be vox amici, Tuus sum totiis, the voice of a friend, I am 
wholly thine ; it is more lively, more lovingly vox mariti, the speech of a 
husband. The bride, among the heathen, on the first day of her marriage, 
chaUengcd of the bridegroom, Uhi tu Cuius, ego Gaia, — Where you are master,! 
must be mistress. Marriage is a strong bond by God's ordinance, and knows 
no other method but composition. God, that in creation made two of one, 
by marriage made one of two. Hence the daughter of Israel is made one. 
with the Son of God ; by a union which the heart may feel, but no art de- 
scribe. Those gracious and glorious riches, which the Master of all the world 
is proprietor of, are in some sort communicated to us. His righteousness, 
holiness, obedience, satisfaction, expiation, inheritance is made oius : as our sin, 
sorrow, sufferings, death, and damnation were made his, not by transfusion, but 
by imputation, 2 Cor. v. 21. His sorrow, pain, passion for us, was so heavy, so 
grievous, so piercing, such a sic that all the world could not match it with a 
sicut. Our joy by him is so gracious, shall be so glorious, that pro quali- 
tate, pro cequalitate ni/ul in comparationem admittitur, — ^for quality, for quan- 
tity, it rcfuseth all comparison. O blessed mutation, blessed mutuation ! 
What we had ill, (and what had we but iU 1) we changed it away for his 
good : what he hath good, (and what other nature can come froin goodness 
itself?) we happily enjoy vel in esse, vel in posse, either in possession or assur- 
ance. Our Saviour died our death, that we might live his life. He suf- 
fered our hell, to bring us to his heaven. 

Obs. 2. — It is somewhat, not unworthy the noting, that Jilia dicitur, non 
Jiliw, Israel is called by the name of daughter, not of daughters. Zion hath 
but one daughter. The whole people is unica quia unita. As she is one, 
she must be at one, not jarring, not repugnant to herself. Confusion belongs 
to Babel : ' Let peace dwell in the palaces of Jerusalem.' They are refrac- 
tory spirits, unworthy to dwell in the daughter of Zion's house, that are ever 
in preparation for separation from her. The church consists of a com- 



Jer. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 397 

munion of saints, a united flock under one shepherd, 1 Peter v. 4 ; not a com- 
pany of straggling sheep, getting schism, and forgetting their chrism — the 
imity of the Si)irit, that makes men to be of one mind in one hou.se. But 
as the spirits in man cease to quicken any member sundered from the body, 
and the scattered bones in Ezckiel's vision received no life till they were 
incorporate into a body, Ezek. xxxvii. 7 ; so the Si>irit of God, which is 
anima corporis, the soul of his mystical body, forbears the derivation of 
grace and comfort to those that cut off themselves from it. 

She is one, una, unica, that is ' mother of us all.' Though there be 
' threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and virgins without number ; 
yet my dove, my undeliled is but one ; she is the only one of her mother, 
the choice one of her that bare her,' Cant. vi. 8, 9. There is one body, 
many members, 1 Cor. xii. 20. The eye must not quarrel with the hand, 
nor the head with the foot. If we be one against another, let us beware lest 
God be against all. We have one Lord, whose livery is love, John xiiL 35, 
' By this shall all men know that you are my disciples, if ye have love one to 
another;' whose doctrine is peace, Ei>h. ii. 17, 'He preacheth peace to you 
that were far off, and to them that were nigh.' Let us then serve him, [)ro- 
fessing one truth with one heart. It is wretched when sects vie numbers 
with cities, and there are so many creeds as heads ; qui conantiir vel corrum- 
perejidem, vet disrumpere charitatem, — who strive either to corrupt faith or 
dissolve charity, none performing his function without faction. It is testified 
of those pure and primitive times, that ' the multitude of them that believed 
were of one heart and of one soul,' Acts iv. 32 : one mind in many bodies. 
' Behold how good and pleasant a thing it is for brethren to dwell together 
in unity ! ' saith the Psalmist, Ps. cxxxiii. 1 ; when i?iter multa corpora, nan 
multa corda, as Augustine sweetly, — when among divers men there are not 
divers minds: sic viventes in umim, ut unum hominem faciant, — so loving 
and living together in one, that they all make but (as it were) one man. 

There is no knot of love so sure as that which religion ties. It is able to 
draw together east and west, sea and land, and make one of two, of ten, of 
thousands, of all This is that which gathered the saints together, not to a 
local, but mystical union, whereby they are compacted under the government 
of one Lord, tied by the bonds of one faith, washed from their .sins in one 
laver, assigned, assured, assumed by one Spirit, to the inheritance of one 
kingdom. But the unity of brethren agreeing is not more entire than their 
dissen.sion, falling out, is violent : * A brother offended is harder to be won 
than a strong city ; and their contentions are like the bars of a castle,' Prov. 
xviii. 1 9 ; but their own loss is the enemy's gain. It is usually seen that 
amiconim dispendia hostium compendia, — dissension is a Lent to friends, a 
Christmas to foes. They that so labour to untie imity, tliat true lovers' 
knot, which every Christian heart should wear and never be weary of, find at 
last by mi-serable experience that destruction doth follow where distraction 
went before ; when instead of the right hands of fellowship, struck for 
consent, they, like the Athenians, will .sacrifice for none but themselves and 
their neighbours of Chio.s. Needs must the daughter of Israel be disipiieted, 
when such oppres.sors, like Rebekah'.H twins, struggle in her womb. If the 
distraction of voices hindered the builduig of Babel, needs must the distrac- 
tion of hearts hinder the building of Jerusalem. 

Behold, ye working spirits that must be doing, though you have no thanks 
for your labour, behold the daughter of Zion, opposed on both .sides, as Christ 
was crucified between two malefactors; .straitened as the host of Israel once, 
betwixt the Aramites and the Syrians, 2 Sam. x. 1 1, when Joab and Abishai 



398 England's sickness. [Sermon XXII. 

disposed themselves to mutual help, as needs required : Atheists on one side, 
Papists on the other. Bend all your forces against them ttat make breaches 
in the walls of Zion, and seek, ensue, procure the peace of Jerusalem, who is 
the only daughter of her mother, and spouse of her Saviour. 

Obs. 3.* — I might here infer to your observation, without any non-resi- 
dence from the text, that the church is called Jilia Jerusalem, the daughter 
of the people, for her beauty, for her purity. I desire you to interpret by 
church, not only that church then visible in the Jews, but the cathoHc church 
also, whereof theirs was but a part ; many things being figuratively spoken of 
the particular which properly belong to the universal. The church of God, then 
and ever, may be called the daughter of Zion, for her virgin fairness, matchless 
by all the daughters of women. The prophet, in those solemn lamentations 
of Israel's ruin, gives her the title of virgin, with this of daughter : Lam. i. 
15, ' The Lord hath trodden the virgin, the daughter of Judah, as in a wine- 
press; ' and, chap, ii 13, ' What shall I equal to thee, that I may comfort thee, 

virgin daughter of Zion ? ' The holy promise of God for her restauration 
is recorded by the same prophet to her, under this unstained title : ' Again 

1 will build thee, virgin of Israel ; thou shalt again be adorned with thy 
tabrets, and shalt go forth in the dances of them that make merry,' Jer. 
xxxi. 4. 

This may insinuate intemeratam pulchritudinem ecclesice, — the unpolluted 
beauty of the church. So Christ testifieth of his elected spouse. Cant. iv. 1, 
Tota indchra es arnica mea, — ' Thou art aU fair, my love, and there is no spot 
in thee.' Now beauty consists in a sweet variety of colours, and in a con- 
cinne disposition of different parts. So the foreign congregations call her ' the 
fairest among women : ' * Whither is thy beloved gone, thou fairest among 
women, that we may seek him with thee 1 ' Cant. vi. 1. For her simplicity 
she is called a dove, for her fruitfulness a vine. Mount Zion for her steadfast- 
ness, for her royalty she is called a queen, for her brightness and eminence 
an ivory tower, for her beauty the fairest among women. As the cedar in 
the forest, the lily among the flowers of the valleys, Zion among the moun- 
tains, Jerusalem among the cities ; as Dinah among all the daughters of the 
land, so the daughter of Judah among her sisters. None so fair as the Shu- 
nammite to content King David, none else can plead that the Son of David 
takes delight in her beauty. But ' the king's daughter is all glorious within,' 
Ps. xlv. 13. Omnis decor ah intus, — It consists not in outward face, but in 
inward grace. How comes she thus fair ? Hear her speak of herself : Cant, 
i. 5, ' I am black, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, but comely as the tents of 
Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.' Black indeed by her own misery, white 
and fair by her Saviour's mercy. Every soul is black by nature ; oiiginally 
soiled, actually spoiled. We have all a natural corruption, that deprives us 
of all habitual goodness. We are born Moors, and have increased thii) swar- 
thiness by the continual tanning of unceascd sins. We have no nitro of our 
own virtual enough to whiten us. Job had no water of snow, nor David of 
hyssop, nor had the pool of Bethesda, though stirred with a thousand angels, 
power to cleanse us. Let nature do her best, we dwelt at the sign of the 
Lahour-in-vain. Only Christ hath washed us, that we might have part with 
him. A medicine of water and blood, John xix. 34, let out of the side of 
Jesus by a murdering spear, hath made the daughter of Zion fair. In this 
sacred fountain hath Christ l)athed her crimson sins and ulcerated sores, till 
she is become whiter than wool or the driven snow. He made her fair whom 
he found foul, that he ' might present it to himself a glorious church, not hav- 
ing spot or wrinkle, or any sucli thing; but that it should be holy and without 



Jer. YITI. 22.] England's sickness. 3[)'J 

blemish,' Eph. v. 27. She must be pulchra, or not .tponsa, to him that is 
higher than the heavens and holier than the angels. His spouse must be no 
blouse. She is adorned by him, let him be adored by her. 

The useful benefit of this observation teacheth us to make way through 
our own natural wretchedness to the admiration of our Saviour's gracious 
goodness. He loved tantillos et tales, parvos et pravos, — .so small in deserts, so 
vile in defects ; without any precedent congruity or subsequent condignity, 
in nobis, quod ct nobis, in ourselves, that was or is of ourselves. For all the 
beauty of Zion's daughter is derived from God's ' Son : ' Thy renown went 
forth among the heathen for thy beauty : for it was perfect through my 
comeliness, which I had put upon thee, saith the Lord God,' Ezek. xvi. 14. 
God said once to Jerusalem, ver. 3, ' Thy birth and thy nativity is of the land 
of Canaan ; thy father was an Amorite, and thy mother a Hittite.' Ver. 5, 
6, &c., ' None eye pitied thee, but thou wast cast out in the open field, to the 
loathing of thy person.' But when ' I passed by thee, and saw thee polluted 
in thine own blood, I had compassion on thee : ' I washed thee with water, 
clothed thee \vith broidered work, decked thee also ^vith ornaments, jtut a 
jewel on thy forehead, and a beautiful crown on thy head. We have all an 
Amorite to our fother, a Hittite to our mother : I mean, are conceived and 
bom in sin, so foul and full of corruption, that there could no temptation 
be shot from us to wound the breast of Christ with love. Spotted we were, 
and nothhig but nakedness was left to cover us ; sick, but without care of 
our own cure ; deformed and luxate with the prosecution of vanities ; 
quadrupedated with an earthly, stooping, grovelling covetousness ; not only 
spotted and speckled in concreto, but spots and blemishes in abstracto; pol- 
lution itself. As Micah calls Jerasalem and Samaria, not jyeccatores, but 
peccata : chap. i. 5, ' What is the transgression of Jacob ? is it not Samaria ? 
and what are the high places of Judah? are they not Jerusalem V Or as 
Lucan speaks of the wounded body, Totiim estj)ro vidnere corpus, — The whole 
body is as one wound. ' Blood touched blood,' and sore broke out into sore ; 
all ulcers Avere coagulated into one by a general rupture, that even our 
righteousness was as filthy rags, Isa. Ixiv. 6. Oh, then, how ugly were our 
sins ! If old iniquities could provoke, or new ones revoke his favour, we had 
store to tempt him. If the raw and bleeding wounds of voluntary sins ; if 
the haltmg foot of neutrality, the blear eye of ignorance, the ear deaf to his 
word, the tongue dumb in his praise ; if the sullen brow of averseness, or 
the stinking breath of hypocrisy, if these could inflan\e his love, lo our 
beauty ! 

What moved thee then, Saviour, to love us ? Besides the incompre- 
hensible delight and infinite content which God hath in himself, ' thousands 
of angels stand about him, and ten thousands of those glorious spirits minis- 
ter unto him.' ' Wliat tlien is man. Lord, that thou takest knowledge of 
him ? or the son of man, that thou makest account of him V Ps. cxliv. 3. 
The meditation of St Augustine* is pertinent to this consideration, and what 
son of man may not confess it with him 1 Neque enim eguisti vie, ant ego tale 
bonuin sum, quo tu adjuveris : nee minor sit 'potestas tua carens obssquio meo, 
— Neither didst thou lack me, O Lord : nor was there that good in me 
whereby thou mightest be helped : neither is thy power lessened through 
the want of my service. If we had been good, yet God needed us not : 
being bad, whence ariseth his love ? What a roughness of soul findest thou, 
Christ, when thou embracest us ? What deformity when thou beholdest 
us 1 What stench of sin when thou kissest ? When thou discourscst, what 
* Coufesij., lib. xiii. cap. 1. 



400 England's sickness. [Sermon XXII. 

rotten speeches drop from us 1 "When thou takest us into thy garden, what 
contrariety of affections to thy expectation 1 Our embraces have been rougher 
than thy crosses ; our persecutions like vmegar, hidden in the sponge of our 
sacrifices ; our words swords, our oaths as bitter as criicifige, our kisses have 
been treasonable to thee as Judas's, our contempts thy thorns, our oppres- 
sions a spear to gore thy side and wound thy bowels. 

Such was our kindness to thee, O blessed Redeemer, when thou offeredst 
thyself to us, and to the Father for us. The best thing in us, yea, in the 
best man of us, had nothing of merit, nothing near it : our ' wages is death ; 
thy gift is life,' Rom. vi. 23, Bona naturae, melior gratke, optima glorias, — 
Thou gavest us a good life of nature, thou gavest us a better of grace, thou 
wilt give us the best of glory. Whether it be 2^fo via or j^ro vita, for the way 
or the end, it is thy gratuital goodness, who hast promised of thy mercy, 
both donare bona tiia, et condonare mala nostra, — both to give us thy good 
things, and to forgive us our evil things. We had misery from our parents, 
and have been parents of our own greater misery : Miseri miserum in hanc 
lucis miseriam indiixenmt,* — Miserable parents have brought forth a miser- 
able offspring into the misery of this woi'ld. And for ourselves, even when 
we were young in years, we had an ' old man' about us. Col. iii. 9 : tantillus 
puer, tantus peccator, — a little child, a great sinner. Sic generavit }:>ater 
terrestris; sed regeneravit piater ccelestis,i — So wretched our generation left 
us, so blessed our regeneration hath made us. So beggarly were we till 
Christ enriched us. 

If you ask still, what moved Christ ? I answer, his own free mercy, work- 
ing on our great misery : a fit object for so infinite a goodness to work on. 
He was not now to part a sea, or bring water out of a rock, or rain bread 
from heaven, but, to conquer death by death, to break the head of the levi- 
athan, to ransom captives from the power of hell, to satisfy his own justice 
for sin ; and all this by giving his own Son to die for us ; by making him 
man who was the Maker of man. This was dignus vindice nodus, — a work 
worth the greatness and goodness of God ; decet enim- magnum magna 
facere, — for it becometh him that is almighty to do mighty works. Thus 
to make the ' daughter of Jerusalem' fair, cost the Son of God the effusion 
of his blood. 

This gives us strong consolation. Qui dilexit poUutos, non deseret politos. 
He that loved us when we were not, when we were nought, will not now 
lose us, whom he hath bought with his death, intcressed to his life. ' Having 
loved his own which were in the world, he loved them unto the end,' John 
xiii. 1 : nsque ad Jinem, nay, absque fine, — unto the end, in the end, without 
end. He wUl not neglect David in the throne, that did protect him in the 
fold. He that visited Zaccheus a sinner, will not forsake him a saint, Luke 
xix. If ho bore affection to us in our rags, his love will not leave us when 
we are.heighted with his righteousness and shining with his jewels. If Ruth 
were lovely in the eyes of Boaz, gleaning after the reapers, what is she, made 
mistress of the harvest 1 He never meant to lose us, that laid out his blood 
to purchase us. Satan hath no trick to deceive him of us, us of him. As 
he hath no power to prevent the first, so none against the second redemption. 
Christ was agnus in passione, but leo in resurrectione, — a lamb suffering 
death, John i. 29, but a lion rising from death, Rev. v. 5. If he could save 
us, being a lamb, he will not suffer us to be lo-st, being a lion. * Fear not, 
thou daughter of Zion ;' he that chose thee sick, sinful, rebellious, will pre- 
serve thee sound, holy, his friend, his spouse. There is ' neither death, nor 
* Bern, Mctlit., cap. ii. f Aug. Confess., lib. i., oap. 12. 



Jee. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 401 

life, nor principality, nor power, nor height, nor depth, that shall be able to 
separate us from his love,' Rom. yiii 38, or pluck us out of the arms of his 
mercy. But tremble, ye wicked ; if ye have not fought in his camp, ye shall 
never shine in his court. 

To press this point too far were but to write Iliads after the Homers of 
our church. Besides there are many that otfer to sit down in this chair 
before they come at it ; and presume of God that they shall not be forsaken, 
when they are not yet taken into his favour. Enow would be saved by this 
privilege, if there were no more matter in it than the pleading of it. But in 
vain doth the beggar's son boast liimself of the blood-royal, or the wicked 
soul of ' partaking of the divine nature,' 2 Pet. i. 4, when he cannot demon- 
strate his adoption by his sanctificaticju. So that as we give comfort to 
them that doubt themselves, so terror to them that prefer themselves when 
God doth not. Llake sure to thy soul that thou art once God's ; and, my 
life for thine, thou shalt ever be his. 

Obs. 4. — Lastly, from this titular phrase observe, that the ' daughter of 
Jerusalem' is our mother. Gal. iv. 2G, ' Jerusalem which is above is free, 
which is the mother of us all' — /xjjrjja rravruv ij/xwv. The holy church is our 
mother, if the most holy God be our father. She feeds us with sincere 
milk, 1 Tim. iiL 15, from her two breasts, the Scriptures of both the Testa- 
ments ; those oracles which God hath committed to her keeping. God doth 
beget us ' of immortal seed by the word, which liveth and abideth for ever,' 
1 Pet. i. 23, but not without the womb of the church. JS^ou enim nascimur, 
sed renascimur Christiani* — We are not Christians by our first, but by our 
second birth. Neither is she the mother of all, but ws all, wln)m God hath 
chosen before all time, and called in time to himself : qui sic sunt in domo 
Dei, ut ipsi sint domus Dei,\ — who are so in the house of God, that them- 
selves are the house of God. ' He that overcometh, I wiU write upon 
him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, 
which is new Jerusalem, that cometh out of heaven from my God,' Rev, 
iii. 12. 

So that a quo dominatio, ah eo denominatio, — our name is given us ac- 
cording to her name that cherisheth and is mother unto us. Hence every 
believing soul is a daughter of Jerusalem, and a spouse of Christ. Anima 
credentis est sponsa redimentis, — The soul of him that believes is the .spouse 
of him that saves. As a multitude is but a heap of units, so the church is 
a congregation of saints. And as that which belongs to the body belongs to 
every member, so the privileges of our mother Jerusalem are the preroga- 
tives of all her children : not only the daughter of Ziou herself, but eveiy 
daughter of hers, every fiiithful soul, is ' a pure virgin,' and so to be ' pre- 
sented to Jesus Christ.' As Paul to his particular church of Corinth : ' I 
am jealous over you with a godly jealousy : for 1 have espoused you to one 
husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ,' 2 Cor. xi. 2. 
plan's soul is of an excellent nature, and like a beauteous damsel, hath many 
suitors : — 

(1.) First, the devil: who comes like an old dotard, neatly tricked and 
smugged up, his wrinkled hide smoothed and sleeked with tcntations ; he 
conies ever masked, and dares not shew his face. Take away his vizor, and 
the soul is worse than a witch that can affect him. And as when he tempts 
wretched sorceresses to some real covenant with him, he assumes the form of 
familiar and unfeared creatures, lest in a horrid and strange shape they should 
not endure him ; so in his spiritual ciicumveutions, for the more facile, sly, 
* Jerom, t Aug. 



402 England's sickness. [Sermon XXII. 

and .suspectless insinviatiou into mortal hearts, * he transforms himself into 
an angel of light,' 2 Cor. xi. 14. 

The promises of this suitor are large and fair ; he offers the soul, if it ■will 
be his spouse, a great jointure. Judas shall have money, Esau pleasures, 
Nabal plenty. Christ himself shall be jointured in many kingdoms, Matt. iv. 
9 ; but ever he indents that we must love him, and join with him in mar- 
riage. Doeg shall have a place in the court, so he will malign God's priests. 
Pilate shall be judge, so he will ply his injustice hard. The Protector shall 
be made an ecclesiastical judge, if he will i^romise more connivance than 
conscience, and suffer Master Bribery to give the censure. Every Balaam 
shall be promoted, that is readier to curse than to bless the people. 

These things to the wicked doth Satan form in speculation, though not 
perform in action. He is an ill wooer that wanteth words. Hear his voice, 
and see not his face ; believe his promises, and consider him not as a liar, 
as a murderer, and he will go near to carry thy heart from all. But he 
hath two infirmities, nay, enormities, that betray him : a stinking breath, 
and a halting foot. 

For his breath ; though it smell of sulphur, and the hot stream of sin and 
hell, yet he hath art to sweeten it. So he can relish covetise with thrifti- 
ness, voluptuousness with good diet, idleness with good quiet. Drunkenness, 
because it is very sour, and fulsome, and odious, even to nature and reason, 
shall be seasoned, sweetened with good-fellowship. Malice is the argument 
of a noble spirit, and murder the maintenance of reputation. Lust is the 
direction of nature ; and swearing, a graceful testimony to the truth of our 
speeches. With such luscious confections he labours to conserve his lungs 
from stinking. If it were not for those mists and shadows, sin would want 
both fautors and factors. 

But his lame foot cannot be hidden, (as they once foolishly fabled among 
the vulgar that his cloven foot could not be changed,) for his disobedience is 
manifest. If he saith, ' Steal,' and God saith, ' Thou shalt not steal ;' ' Swear,' 
when God saith, 'Swear not;' 'Dissemble,' when he cries, 'Woe against 
hypocrites !' ' Be a usurer,' when God saith, ' Thou shalt not then dwell in my 
glory : ' what pretences soever gloss his text, his lameness cannot be hidden. 
All his policy cannot devise a boot to keep him from this halting. — This is 
the first and worst suitor, 

(2.) The world comes in like a blustering captain, with more nations on 
bis back than crowns in his purse, or at least virtues in his conscience. This 
wooer is handsomely breasted, but ill backed : better to meet than to follow, 
for he is all vanity before, all vexation behind, by the witness of him that 
tried and knew him, Eccles. i. Sometimes trouble fellows him, but surely 
follows him. ' The desire of money is the root of all evil : which while some 
coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through 
with many sorrows,' 1 Tim. vi. 10. He is like a bee or an epigram, all his 
sting is in his tail. He is troubled with a thousand diseases, and is attended 
on with more plagues than ever Galen knew remedies. He is now grown 
exceeding old, and hath but a few minutes to live. He is decayed both in 
stature and nature : specially he is troubled with a stooping and a stopping — 
a stooping in his joints, a stopping in his lungs ; ho neither hath an upright 
face nor a light heart. 

[1.] For the former ; he is ever poring on the earth, as if he had no other 
heaven, or were set to dig there for paradise. His eye never looks up to 
heaven, but to observe what weather it Avill be. This is his curvity ; he is a 
warped, .aged, and decrepit suitor. There is no straightnoss in hiui. 



Ji:r. VUl. 22.J England's sickness. 403 

[2.] For the other; he oiiiinot be lightsome, because he never did give a 
good conscience one ni^^ht's lodging, which only truly can make ' the heart 
merr}',' Prov. xv. 15. He strives to be merry, but his mirth is madness. 
He cannot dance unless vanity be his mate, and iniquity his minstrel. All 
his joy is vel in vitiis, vel in. (Jivitiis, — either in his wealth, or his wickedness. 
He cannot be merry if God be in the company. For the good oidy keep 
Christmas all the ye;ir in their conscience, though not at their table. He 
hath three inducements to persuade, and three defects to dissuade, the soul 
from accepting his love. If the former induce any to him, let the latter re- 
duce them froua him : — 

His Jirst allurement is a mellifluous language, able to blanch mischiefl 
His words drop nectar, as if he had been brought up at court. And as by his 
logic he can make quidlihet ex qnolibet, — anything of everything; so by his 
rhetoric he can make stones, hard-hearted worldlings, dance to liis pipe, as it 
is fabled of Orpheus: Cujus ex ore non tarn verba, quam mellajluunt, as 
I have read of Origcn, — Every syllable is like a drop of honey from his lips. 
Magicis verhorura viribus, quasi transformat homines, — Tliere lies a magic 
in his tempting speech, able to enchant and transform men's hearts : making 
a voluptuous man a hog; an oppressor, a wolf; the lustful, a goat; the 
drunkard, a devil. His arguments are not empty, but carry the weight of 
golden eloquence, the musical sound of profit and pleasure. 

Besides his captiving elocution, he mends the ill fabric of his person with 
rich accoutrements. He wears all his clothes, as St Paul saith, in the fashion, 
Rom. xii. 2. He Ir.ith change of suits. He puts on pride when he goes to 
the court ; bribery, when he goes to the Hall ; ebriety, when to a tavern ; 
prodigality, when he shuffles in among gallants ; usury, when he would walk 
in the Exchange ; and oppression, when he would ride down into the country. 
Only avarice is the girdle of his loins ; he is never without it. It is his 
fashion to be of any fashion, and to apply himself to thy humour whom he 
courts. He hath a suit fo speed his suit, to please thy affection. 

This is not all ; he tenders thee a fair and large jointure. Give him but 
marriage, and he will give thee maintenance. Jura, perjura, — Defraud, 
dissemble, swear, forswear, bribe, flatter, temporise, make use of all men, 
love only thyself; and riches, with preferment in his comjjany, shall seek 
thee out. Thou shalt hazard no straits, climb no AIjjs, prison not thyself 
in a study, nor apprentice thy life to the wars. Entertain but the world for 
thy husband, and thou art out of all hunger and cold : weidth shall come 
trolling in even whiles thou sleepcst. But happy is he that can be rich with 
honesty, or poor with content. 

These are the glories whereof he would enamour thee ; thus would he pos- 
sess thee with his possessions. But he hath three deterrings : hear them : — 
He hath sore eyes, blear and raw with cares ; for he is ever in expectation, 
either of remedy to griefs, or supply to wants. What opulency can boast 
innuunity from sorrow, exemption from crosses 1 And such is the secure 
worldling's impatience, when he is once angered with afflictions, that a little 
misery makes him greatly miserable. He makes his yoke the more troublous 
to him, because he hath not learned to draw quietly in it. Though he hath 
already more than enough, he keeps his eyes sore with seekuig for addition. 
In the quest of wealth, he denies himself rest. Needs nmst his eyes be sore 
that sleepeth not. — This is one dLsea.se incident to the world. 

He hath swollen legs, diseased with surfeits. For the world comprehends 
more than covetou.'^ness, by the testimony of St John : 'The lust of the llesh, 
the lust of the eyes, the pride of life is i)f the world,' 1 Juhii ii. 15. We 



404 ENGLAND'S SICKNESS. [SeRMON XXII. 

renounced in our baptism, together with the world, pomps and vanities. 
Riot, lust, intemperance, epicurism, dissoluteness, are members of the world, 
as well as avarice. Tarn, I say, if not tantum. And therefore our Saviour, 
by that terrible sentence against rich men, intends not covetousness for a 
sole and singular obstacle, (yield it a principal,) but pride, ambition, lust, 
vain-glory, luxury, the effects of an opulent state, as weU as covetise. There 
are more burdens to load the camel, when he should pass through the small 
postern of grace, (that needle's eye,) than only avarous affections. What 
lesson of vice is not the rich man apt to learn ? Therefore this makes the 
world have swollen legs, as the other sore eyes. He is blind, he is lame ; 
both ill qualities in a suitor. 

He hath a very weak tenure of all he possesseth ; he is God's tenant at 
will, and hath lease of nothing, but durante Domini beneplacito, — during the 
great Landlord of heaven and earth's favour. At utmost, his hold is but for 
term of life : and that a warish, short, and transient life, scarce so long as 
the first line of an indenture. Nay, he hath right to nothing ; for he holds 
not in capite, from the Lord of all, Jesus Christ. Therefore every worldling 
shall be accountant for each crumb of bread and drop of water which they 
have received. For the right of creatures lost in the first Adam, cannot be 
recovered but by the second. So that he enters on them as an intrudei-, 
and possesseth them as a usurper : his title being so bad, his tenure is cer- 
tain in nothing but in being uncertain. Sic transit gloria mundi, — So ' the 
fashion of this world passeth away,' 1 Cor. vii. 31. What soul soever marries 
him, either he leaves his wife, or his wife must leave him, without ever being 
satisfied. 

You see, then, the fraudulent proffers of your personable wooer, the world. 
What is there in him, that any daughter of Jerusalem should affect him ? 
Only be you simple as doves, in not loving him ; but wise as serpents, in living 
by him. ' Love not the world,' saith St John, 1 Epist. ii. 15 ; yet make use 
of it, saith St Paul. Utere mundo, fruere Deo, — Use the world, but enjoy 
God ; for ' the world waxeth old as a garment, and fadeth away,' 1 Cor. vii. 
31, Heb. ill; but 'Jesus Christ yesterday, and to-day, and the same for 
ever,' chap. xiii. 8. The world, like fire, may be a good servant, will be an 
ill master. Make it thy slave ; it is not good enough to be thy husband. 
How base is it for a free woman to marry her servant ! 

(3.) The third is the flesh. This suitor comes boldly in, like a home-born 
child, and hopes to speed for old acquaintance. He can plead more than 
familiarity, even inherence, inheritance of what nature hath left us. He is 
not only collateral, but connatural to us. One house hath held us, one 
breath served us, one nutriment fed us, ever since one conception bred us. 
Like Hippocrates's twins, we should have inseparably lived together and loved 
together, if the prerogative court of grace and mercy had not divorced us. 
And even in the sanctified this impudent wooer cannot be quite shaken off, 
till death shall at once deliver that to death, us to life. For though ' with 
the mind I delight in the law of God, yet I see another law in my members, 
rebelling against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the 
law of sin,' liom. vii. 22, 23. His company is wearisome, his solicitings 
tedious, to the virgin-daughter of Zion. ' O wretched man that I am ! who 
shall deliver me from the body of this death ? I thank God through Jesus 
Christ our Lord,' ver. 24, 25. So then, with the mind we serve the law of 
God, but with the flesh tlie law of sin. 

He will perpetually urge his suit, and not, after many rejections, be said 
nay. Thy soul cannot be rid of him, so long as thou holdcst him in any 



Jer. VIII. 22.] enoland's sickness. 405 

hope of success ; and so long he will hope as thou givest him a cold and 
timorous denial. Suitors are drawn on with an easy repulse, and take that 
as half-granted tliat is but faintly opposed. In whom this wooer prevails 
least, he wearies him with im[M)rtunity till a peremptory answer hath put him 
out of heart. This wavering and weakly-resisting spirit cannot sleep in the 
chamber of quiet, whiles innumerable lusts, (which are the solicitors and 
spokesmen of the flesh,) beat at the door with their early knocks, pressing 
more impudently for audience than instruments of villany to Machiavel, or 
wronged clients to an advocate. Remiss answers provoke his fiercer at- 
tempts. He is shameless when he meets not with a bold heart. He thinks 
that though 

* Pugnabit primo forti^sis, et improbe dicet, 

Pugnaudo vinci se tamen ilia volet; ' — * 

* Though at the first the soul refuse to yield. 
She means on further strife to lose the field.' 

Only resolution can make him give back, give over. 

His insinuations are many : — By promises. PoUicitis dives. He is neither 
a beggar nor a niggard in promising : they are the cheapest chaffer a man 
can part withaL By tedious and stintless solicitations , as if time could win 
thee. 

* Quid magis est durum saxo? quid moUius unda? 

Dura tamen teneris saxa cavantur aquis ; ' — 

' The stone is very hard, the water soft ; 
Yet doth this hollow that, by dropping oft.' 

As if the strongest fort were not long able to hold out. By shadows (for 
real proffers) of friendship : Tula frequensque via est, per aviici fallere nomen, 
— It is a safe and common way, by name of friendship to shew false play. 
* It was not mine enemy,' saith David, ' but my familiar friend,' that did me 
the mischief By tendering to the soul pleasing and contentful objects ; 
as if 

' non vincere possit 
Flumina, si contra quam rapit unda, natet; ' — 

•The floods would easily master him. 
If he against the stream should swim.' 

Therefore he forms his insidious baits to our inclinations, diversifieth his 
lusts according to the variety of humours. Hie procus inmnneris moribus 
aptus erit, — This wooer can vary his Protean forms, obsers'e all strains, re- 
serve and conceal his own, till he be sure that the pill he gives will work. 

This suitor is dangerous, and prevails much with the soul : a handsome 
fellow, if you pluck ofi" his skin ; for this, saith St Jude, is ' spotted all over.' 
A virgin, well-natured, well- nurtured, that sets ought by herself, will not 
fasten her love on a lazar, leper, or ulcerous Moor. Why, then, oh why, 
should the soul, so heavenly generate, thus become degenerate, as to wed her 
affections to the polluted flesh ] God, indeed, once married the soul to the 
body, the celestial to a terrene nature ; but to the lusts of the body, which 
Paul calls the flesh, he never gave his consent. This clandestine match was 
made without the consent of parents — of God our Father, of the church our 
mother ; therefore most sinful, most intolerable. Cashier, then, this .saucy 
suitor, who, like some riotous younger brother with some great heir, pro- 
miseth much, both of estate and love ; but once married, and made lord of 
* Amor., lib. i. 



406 England's sickness. [Sermon XXII. 

aU, soon consumes all to our final undoing. He breaks open the cabinet of 
our heart, and takes out all the jewels of our graces, and stints not his lav- 
ishing till he hath beggared us. — This is the third suitor. 

(4.) The last and best, and only worthy to speed, is Jesus Christ. ' What 
is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women 1 ' 
say foreign congregations to the church, Cant. v. 9. To whom she answers, 
ver. 10, ' My beloved is white and ruddy : ' he hath an exact mixture of the 
best colours, argiiments of the purest and healthfulest complexion. ' The 
chiefest among ten thousand : ' infinitely fairer than all the sons of men, who 
alone may bear the standard of comely grace and personal goodliness among 
all. ' His head is as the most fine gold : ' the Deity which dwelleth in him 
is most pure and glorious. ' His locks are curled, and black as a raven : ' 
his Godhead deriving to his human nature such wondrous beauty as the black 
curled locks become a fresh and well-favoured coimtenance. ' His eyes are 
like doves',' &c. : who will, let him there read and regard his gi-aces. ' His 
name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love him.' 

He hath a rich wardrobe of righteousness to apparel us ; a glorious house, 
a city of gold, to entertain us, whose foundation is jasper and sapphire, and 
such precious stones, Rev. xxi., the least of them richer than ten Escurials : 
his jointure is glory, — ^jointure I may caU it, for so we are with him joined 
heirs, though not joined purchasers. If the house of this world be so 
esteemed, wherein God lets his enemies dwell, what is the mansion he hath 
provided for himself and his spouse, the daughter of Zion ! Rom, viii. 17. 
His fruition is sweet and blessed, ob eminentiam, ob permanentiam, — for 
perfection, for perpetuity ; a kingdom, and such a one as ' cannot be shaken,' 
Heb. xii., which no sin, like a politic Papist, shall blow up ; no sorrow, like 
a turbulent atheist, shall invade. 

This suitor is only beautiful, only bountiful : let him possess your souls, 
which with his blood he bought out, and with his power brought out from 
captivity. For him am I deputed wooer at this time, (for ' as though God did 
beseech you through us, we pray you hi Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to 
God,' 2 Cor. v. 20,) who would fain ' present your souls pure virgins to 
Jesu« Christ,' chap. xi. 2. Forbear the prostitution of them to any ravisher, 
to any sin ; for jyeccare, to sin, is to commit adultery. Quasi j)ellicare, id 
est cum pellice coire. Christ lays just title to you : give yourselves from 
yourselves to him ; yovi are not your own unless you be his. 

2. We have heard the daughter of Zion described quce sit ; let us now hear 
ciijiis sit, ' the daughter of my people,' saith the Lord. God was pleased witli 
that title, ' the God of Israel.^ His own Scriptures frequently give it him : 
Jer. xxxii. 36, ' Thus saith the Lord, the God of Israel,' &c. The children 
are usually called after the name of their father ; here the Father is con- 
tented to be called after the name of his children : ' The God of Abraham, 
the God of Isaac,' &c. So Darius proclaims in his decree, Dan. vL 26, 'The 
God of Daniel.' Isa. xliv. 5, ' One shall say, I am the Lord's ; and another 
shall call himself by the name of Jacob ; and another shall subscribe with 
his hand unto the Lord, and surname himself by the name of Israel. Thus 
saith the King of Israel,' &c. And, chap. xlv. 4, ' For Jacob my servant's 
sake, and Israel mine elect, I have even called thee by thy name : I have 
surnamed thee, though thou hast not known me.' Here might be inferred 
the inuttcrable compassiim of God to Israel. It is my people that is thus 
sick. But I have not scanted this observation before. 

That which I would now direct my speech and your attention to, is the 
.strangeness of his complaint; cegrotat Israel. Others to have been sick 



Jer. Vlil. 22.] England's SICKNESS. 407 

were not so rare. It had been no wonder in Egypt, Animou, Edoni, Baby- 
lon : Israel liatli the best means for health, therefore the more inexcusable 
her sickness. They should have been so mannered as they were manured, 
and brought forth grapes according to their dressing : Sidon shall judge 
Chorazin, Nineveh Jerusalem. In Sidon, where was no prophet, was less 
wickedness; in Nineveh, where less prophesying, greater repentance. This 
conviction was demonstrated in many particulars. The praise of the centu- 
rion is the shame of Israel; the mercy of the Samaritan, the priest's and 
Levite's condenmation. The very dogs licking Lazarus's sores confute the 
stony bowels of Dives. The returning of the strange leper, with a song of 
thanksgiving in his mouth, was an exprobration to all the nine ; w hen 
Christ had the tithe of a person he least expected. 

God reproacheth this ' daughter of Zion,' Ezek. xvi. 46, that SamarLa and 
Sodom were of her sisterhood ; yea, ver. 47, ' As if their abominations were a 
very little thing, thou wast corrupted more than they in all thy ways.' Nay, 
ver. 51, 'Thou hast justified thy sisters, in that their abominations came 
short of thine by the one half.' 'The people of thy holiness,' as the pro- 
phet Isaiah calls them, chap. Ixiii. 18, are become, by the same prophet's 
testimony, ' a sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity,' chap. i. 4. ' They 
that were not called by thy name,' cha[). Ixiii. 19, are not so rebellious. Eo 
sunt deteriores, quo meliores Deus reddere conatus est. It is grievous that 
God's goodness should make men worse ; and the more kind God hath been 
to them, the more unkind they should be to themselves, the more unthank- 
ful to him. Christ for the Jews turned their water into Avine, John ii. ; the 
Jews for Christ turned their wuie into vinegar, and offered it him to drink, 
Matt, xxvii. 34. They that were the richest of God's own making, became 
the most bankrupts in religion. They changed cathedram mysterii, wherein 
God placed their doctors, in sedem pestilentice, into the scorner's chair, con- 
temning his benefits ; they had a \ineyard at an easy rate, yet paid no 
fruits of obedience. It is hard to say whether God was more gracious to 
them, or they more grievous to him. This boldly, never was more pity 
requited vdth less piety. God sowed mercy, and reaped a crop of iniquity. 

God can brook this in none ; but as he forsook his temple in Zion when 
it became ' a den of thieves,' so he will take out his ornaments wherewith 
he graced the temple of the soul, when we set up the Dagon of this world 
in it ; and withdraw his riches, as from a divorced spouse, running after 
other lovers. "WTiUes Adam served God, God, in a manner, served liim ; he 
provides for him a mansion, a companion, and sustentation. We read of 
nothing that God did six days together, (and his works were not small nor 
few,) but work for Adam ; as if he had been hired to labour for him. Is it 
not strange that such a child should prove rebel to such a father ? Let none 
think his fault was small in eating an a])ple, or that his punishment weighed 
heavier than his trespass. His sin was so much the gi-eater, because against 
a God, and so good unto him. The more gloriously the sun and summer 
have apparelled a tree, the more we admire the blasting. When Ciod hath 
planted a soul in his own holy ground, watered it with those sacred, purify- 
ing dews of hLs graces, shone on it with the radiant beams of his soul-reviv- 
inrf mercies, spent much et operoi et olei, both of care and cost upon it, and 
hath his expectation requited, abused with a mere flourish of leaves, — with 
either a neqnam, or neqnicquam frndm, none or evil fruits, — there goes out 
a curse, ' Never fruit gi'ow on thee more.' AVTicn God hath [nit his grace into 
our unworthy vessels, how abusive is it to empty ourselves of that [)recious 
liquor, and swell our spirits with the poison of hell ! How just is it with 



408 England's sickness. [Seemon XXIL 

him to take away what he gave, Luke viii. 18, and to put a consumption 
into our vital parts ! Hence (without wonder) our judgment rusts like a 
never-drawn sword ; our knowledge loseth the relish, like the Jews' putrified 
manna ; our faith dissolves as a cloud ; our zeal trembles, as if it were held 
with a palsy ; our love freezeth the harder, as water that once was warm ; 
our repentance turns to ice, and our hope to snow, which the heat of 
affliction melts to water, not to be gathered up : the image of death is upon 
all our religion. 

Was this strange in Israel, and is it nothing in England 1 Look uix)n the 
inhabitants of the earth, somewhat remote from i;s, to whose face the sun of 
the gospel hath not yet sent his rays ; people blinded with ignorance, 
blended with lusts. What were our desires or deserts, former matter or 
latter merit, congruity before conversion, or eondignity after, more than 
theirs, that might shew that God should put us into the horizon of his 
grace, whiles they ' sit in darkness and shade of death V Want they nature, 
or the strength of flesh 1 Are they not tempered of the same mortar ? Are 
not their heads upward toward heaven 1 Have they not reasonable souls, 
able for comprehension, apt for impression, if God would set his seal on them, 
as well as we 1 Eph. iv. 30. Are they not as likely for flesh and blood, 
provident to forecast, ingenious to invent, active to execute, if not more, than 
we ? Why have we that star of the gospel to light us to Christ Jesus 
standing over our country, whiles they neither see it nor seek it 1 It is 
clearly, merely God's mercy. Now why are our lives worse, seeing our know- 
ledge is better ? Why devour we their venom, refusing our own healthful 
food ; whiles they would feed on our crumbs, and have it not 1 Woe unto us 
if we scant God of our fruits, that hath not scanted us of his blessings ! 

Bring presents to the King of glory, ye children of his holiness, and wor- 
ship before him. Endanger not yourselves to the greater misery, by abusing 
his great mercy. He hath loved us much and long in our election, when we 
could not love him ; in our redemption, when we would not love him. His 
love was not merited by ours ; let our love be deserved, inflamed by his. 
If God prevent us with love, we can do no less than answer him in the same 
nature, though not (it is impossible) in the same measure. Publicans will 
love those that love publicans, Matt. v. 46. The poet could say — 

• Ut prsestem Pyladen, aliquis mihi praestet Oresten ; 

Hoc non fit verbis : Marce, ut ameris ama ; ' — * 

* Give me Orestes, I shall Pylades prove ; 
Then truly, that thou may est be loved, love.' 

But God loved us, even being his enemies. JEjus charitas est substantia, 
nostra accidentalis,\ — His love is a substance, ours only accidental. His, 
ignis accendens ; ours, ignis accensus. His love is that holy fire that enkindles 
ours. If we return not our little mite of love for his great treasures, his 
great love .shall turn to our great anger ; and we shall fiire the worse that 
ever we fared so well. God, as he hath advanced us into his favour, so hath 
he set us as ' a light on a hUl,' among the nations ; if darkness be on the 
hill, what light can be in the valley ? A small scar on the face is eminent. 
If one eyebrow be shaven, how little is taken from the body, how much from 
the beauty ! We are now the world's envy ; oh, let us become their decla- 
mation ! 

Obs. — Is the daughter of God's people sick ? It may then be inferred, 

* Martial, lib. vi., Epigr. 11. t Bern., Ep. 11. 



Jer. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 409 

that the church may be sick, though not die and perish ; die it cannot. The 
blood of an eternal King bought it, the power of an eternal Spirit preserves 
it, the mercy of an eternal God shall crown it, Ilob. ix. 14. The heathens 
have imagined to vaunt themselves and daunt us with the downfall of our 
church. Ad certum tempus sunt Christiani, postea perilntnt ; redihunt idola, 
et quod fuit antea* — These Christians are but for a time ; then they shall 
perish, and our idols shall be returned to their former adoration. To whom 
that father replies : Verinyi tu cum expectas, miser infidelis, vt transeant 
Christiani, transis ipse sine Chistianis, — But whilst thou, O wretched in- 
fidel, expectest the Christians to perish, thou dost perish thyself, and leave 
them safe behind thee, ^^^ules they boast in their self-flatteries, that we 
had a time to begin and shall have a time to continue, themselves vanish, 
and we remain to praise the Lord our God from generation to generation. 
Indeed, Matt. xv. 13, 'Every plant which my heavenly Father hath not 
planted shall be rooted up.' But whom he loves, for ever he loves, John xlii. 1. 
Yet may this church, whiles it is not freed from militancy, be very sick in 
the visible body of it. jEgrotat Israel ; yet in Israel was the true church of 
God. It was so sick in Elias's time, that, Rom. xi. 3, he eomplaineth, ' Lord, 
they have killed thy prophets, and digged down thine altars ; and I am left 
alone, and they seek my life.' The church was sick, you see ; yet the next 
verse of God's answer frees it from being dead : ' I have reserved to myself 
seven thousand men, that never bowed the knee to the image of Baal.' 

"What church since hath been so happy as to joy in her freedom from this 
cause of complaint 1 The church was from the beginning, shall be to the 
end, without limitation of time, of place. Yet she is a garden : Cant. iv. 12, 
' A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse ;' sometimes by diligence kept 
neat and clean, sometimes by negligence overrun with weeds. She is a 
moon, eft clear and beautiful, eft waning, and waxing darksome, chap, vi 10. 
Die then it cannot, be sick it may. Time was, saith Chrysostom,t that ec- 
clesia ccelum fuit, Spiritit cuncta administrante, &c., — the church was a 
heaven, the Holy Spirit governing all things, (fee. Now the very steps and 
tokens thereof do but scarcely remain. Mali projiciunt, boni dejiciunt, — ■ 
Wickedness grows strong, goodness faints. The lambs are few, the goats 
swarm. 

* Little faith shall be found 
When the last trump shall sound.' 

We have read often the church compared to a body, cvjtis caput Christus, 
' whose head is Jesus Christ.' In the 4th to the Ephesians, we have it 
likened to a man, cujtis anima Christus, whose soul is Christ : ' TiU all 
come to a perfect man,' <fec. Now the soul increaseth in a man, not aug- 
mentatively, but secundum vigorem ; transfusing into the body her virtual 
powers and operations more strongly. Christ ia semper idem ohjective, sub- 
jective, effective, — ever the same in himself, and to us, Heb. xlii. >s ; but this 
body grows up with the head, this man with the soul, this churcli ' increas- 
eth with the increasing of God,' Col. ii. 19. Sickness, then, to the church 
cannot be mortal, yet may the body be distempered ; her doctrine may be 
sound, her members want health : ' Why is not the health of the daughter,' 
&c. But to descend from the universal to a particular, from the invisible to 
a visible church ; this may be sick, either by some inbred distemperature, or 
by the accession of some outward malady. There may be grievances in 
either respect to afflict the daughter of Israel. 

• Aug. in Ps. lix. + In 1 Cor. Horn. 36. 



410 ENGLAND'S SICKNESS. [SkRMON XXII. 

Inwardly : corruption may gather on it by degrees and put it in need of 
physic. For as the natural body of man, when it is overcharged in the veins 
and parts -with rank and rotten humours, which it hath gathered by misdiet, 
surfeiting, or infest airs, the man grows dangerously sick, tUl by some fit 
evacuation he can be discharged of that burden : so the body of a church, 
being infected with humours, and swollen with tumours of unsound doctrine, 
of unsounder life, superstitious ceremonies, corrupting the vital pores and 
powers thereof ; troubled with the cold shakings of indevotion, or taken with 
the numbness of induration, or terrified with windy passions of turbulent 
spirits, cannot be at ease till due reformation hath cured it. Now such a 
church sometimes is more swelling in bigness, and ostents a more bulky 
show ; but once truly purged of such crude superfluities, it becomes less 
great and numerous, but withal more sound, apt and fit for spiritual actions. 

Our particular church of England, now fined from the dross of Home, had 
a true substantial being before, but hath gotten the better being, by the re- 
purgation wrought by the gospel, maintained by our Christian princes, the 
true ' defenders of the faith ' of Christ. God had doubtless his church among 
us before, for it is catholic and universal ; but his floor was full of chafi". 
The Papists demand where our church was before Luther's time. We an- 
swer, it lay hid under a great bulk of chaff; and. Matt, iii., since Christ 
vouchsafed to come ' with his fan to purge it of the chafl",' it now shews it- 
self with greater eminence, and is clearer both in show and substance. It 
was before a wedge of pure gold, but coming into the hands of impostors, 
was by their mixtures and sophistications, for gain and such sinister respects, 
augmented into a huge body and mass, retaining still an outward fair show" 
and tincture of gold. They demand, where was the gold 1 demonstrate th* 
place. I answer, in that mass. But for the extracting thereof, and purify- 
ing it from dross, God hath given us the true touchstone, his sacred word, 
which can only manifest the true church ; and withal reverend bishops, and 
worthy ministers, that have been instruments to refine and purge it from the 
dross of superstitions, foul ceremonies, and juggling inventions. 

The Papists brag themselves the true ancient church, and tax ours of 
novelty, of heresy. But we justly tell them, that ecdesice nomen tenent, et 
contra ecclesiam dimicant, — that they usurp the name of the church, yet 
persecute it. For the truth of our church, we appeal to the Scriptures. 
Nolo humanis documentis, sed divinis oraculis sanctani ecclesiam demondrari* 
— It is fit the holy church should be proved rather by divine oracles, than 
human precepts or traditions. We stand not upon numbers, (which yet, we 
bless God, are not small,) but upon truth. You see, as the church of the 
Jews, so any particular church, may be sick inwardly. To describe these 
internal diseases, I will limit them into four : — 

(1.) Error. Indeed heresy cannot possess a church but it gives a subver- 
sion to it. El-rare possum, hereticus esse non possum, saith that fathei',+ — I 
may err, a heretic I cannot be. Now, quicquid contra veriiatem sapii, 
hoiresis est, eliam vetus consuetudo;\. — What is diametrally opposed against 
the truth is heresy, yea, though it be an ancient and long-received custom. 
But logic, which is a reasonable discourse of things, shews a great difteronce 
between diversa and contraria. A church may be sick of error, and yet live ; 
but heresy (a wilful error against the fundamental truth, violently prosecuted 
and persisted in) kills it. Therefore, hceresis potius inors, qnam morbus, — 
heresy is rather death than sickness. When the truth of doctrine, or rather 
doctrine of truth, hath been turned to the falsehood of heresy, God hath re- 
* Aug. de Unit. Eccl. t August. J Tertul. 



Jer. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 411 

moved their candlestick, and turned their liiiht into darkness. Error may 
make it sick, but so that it may be cured. Tiie churches of Corinth, G:Ua- 
tia, Pergamos, had these sicknesses ; the Holy Ghost, by Paul and John, 
prescribeth their cures. If they had been dead, what needed any direction 
of physic ? If they had not been sick, to what tended the prescription of 
their remedy ? 

To God alone, and to his majestical word, be the imimssibility of erring. 
That church, that man, shall in tl^s err palpably, that will challenge an im- 
munity ; whosoever thinks he cannot err, doth in this very persuasion err 
extremely. I know there is a man on earth, a man of earth, (to say no 
more,) that challcngcth this privilege. Let liim prove it. Give him a term 
ad exhibendum, and then for want of wtness he may write, Teste meipso, as 
kings do, — Witness ourself, &c. Nay, ask his cardinals, friars. Jesuits. This 
is somewhat to the proverb, ' Ask the sons if the father be a thief.' But he 
cannot err in his definitive sentence of religion. Then belike he hath one 
spirit m his consistory, and another at home ; and it may hi some sort be said 
of him, as Sallust of Cicero : Aliud stans, aliiul sedens de i-epublica loi/uitur, 
— He is of one opinion sitting, of another standing. ' Let God be true, but 
every man a liar,' Horn. iiL 4. One of their own said, Omnis hovio errare potest 
in fide, etiamsi Papa sit, — Any man may err in faith, yea, though he were the 
Pope. If they will have Rome a sanctuary, let them take along with them 
Petrarcha's catachresical speech, calling it an asylum errorum, sanctuary of 
errors. "What particular church then may not err 1 Now can it err, and be 
sound ? Be the error small, yet the ache of the finger keeps the body from 
perfect health. The greater it is, the more dangerous ; especially, [1.] Either 
when it possesseth a vital part, and infecteth the rulers of the church. It is 
ill for the feet when the head is giddj^ [2.] Or when it is infectious and 
spreading, violently communicated from one to another. [3.] Or when it 
carries a colour of truth. The most dangerous ^'ice is that which bears the 
countenance and wears the cloak of virtue. [4.] Or when it is fitter to the 
humour, and seasoned to the relish of the people. Sedition, affectation, 
popukrity, covetousness, are enough to drive an error to a heresy. So the 
disease may prove a gangrene, and then ease reddendum, ne pars sincera 
trahatur, — no means can save the whole, but cutting off the mcurable part : 
Pereat unus potius (juam unitas. 

(2.) Ignorance is a sore sickness in a church, whether it be in the superior, 
or subordinate members ; especially when ' the priest's lips preserve not 
knowledge.' Ill goes it with the body when the eyes are blind. Devotion 
without instruction often wuids itself into superstition. When learning's 
head is kept under avarice's girdle, the land grows sick. Experience hath 
made this conclusion too manifest. Our forefathers felt the terror and 
tyranny of this afiliction ; who had golden chalices, and wooden priests, who 
had either no art or no heart to teach the people. Sing not, thou Roman 
siren, that ignorance is the dam of devotion, to lireed it ; it is rather a dam 
to stifle, restrain, and choke it up. Blindness is plansil'lc to please men, not 
possible to please God. Grant that our faults in the light are more heinous 
than theirs who wanted true knowledge. Ex furibus e/iim leges eos gravius 
puniunt, qui interdiu fnrantur,*— For the laws do punish those thieves most 
severely, that fear not even by day to commit outrages. Yet in all rcastm 
their sins did exceed in number, who knew not when they went awry, or 
what was ami&s. 

Rome hath, by a strange and incredible kind of doctrme, gone about to 
* Chrysost. in Ps. ix. 



412 England's sickness. [Sermon XXIL 

prove that the health, which is indeed the sickness of a church, is ignorance. 
Their Cardinal Cusan saith, that ohedientia irrationalis est consummata obe- 
dieniia et perfectissivia, <fec., — ignorant obedience, wanting reason, is the 
most absolute and perfect obedience. Chrysostom gives the reason why 
they so oppose themselves against reason : ILeretici sacerdotes daudunt 
januas veritatis, &c., — Heretical priests shut up tlie gates of truth ; for they 
know that upon the manifestation of the truth their church would be soon 
forsaken. If the light, which maketh all things plain, should shine out, 
tit7ic hi qui prius decipiehant, nequaqiiam ad popidum accedere valebunt, 
postquam se seiiserint intellectos, — then they who before cozened the people could 
preserve their credits no longer, being now smelt out and espied. Hence the 
people aim at Christ, but either short or gone, and not with a just level. 
But nemo de Christo credat, nisi quod Christies de se credi voluit, — let no man 
believe other thing of Christ than what Christ would have believed of him- 
self. Noil minus est Deum finger e, quam negare, saith Hilary, — It is no less 
sin to feign a new God, than to deny the true God. The priests call the 
people swine, and therefore must not have those precious pearls. And so 
the people amant ignorare, malunt nescire, quod jam oderunt* — had rather 
continue ignorant, as not loving to know those things, which they cannot 
love, because they know not. 

But, alas ! ignorance is so far from sanity and sanctity, that it is a spilling 
and killing sickness. Men are urged to read the Scriptures, that never- 
emptied treasure-house of knowledge : they answer, Non sum monachus ; 
uxorem haheo, et curam domus,f — I am no priest ; I have a wife, and a do- 
mestical charge to look to. This is that pestilence (no ordinary sickness) 
that infects to death many souls ; to think that knowledge belongs only to 
priests. This is a work of the devil's inspiration, not suffering us to behold 
the treasure, lest we grow rich by it. Dicis non legi ; non est hcec excusatio, 
sed crimen, — Thou sayest, I have not read ; this is no excuse, but a sin. 
The Bomists stick not, as once the Valentinian heretics, veritatis ignorantiam, 
cognitionem vocare, by a paradox, pseudodox, to call the ignorance of the 
tnith, the true knowledge thereof. Like those, Wisd. xiv., that ' living m a 
war of ignorance, those so great plagues, they called peace.' But qui ea qua; 
sunt Domhii nesciunt, d, Domino nesciuntur, — they that will not know the 
Lord, shall not be known of the Lord. It is objected, 1 Cor. viii. 1, ' Know- 
ledge puffeth up.' Let Irenseus expound it : Non quod veram scientiam de 
J)eo culparet, alioquin seipsum primum accusaret, — Not that he blamed the 
true knowledge of God, for then he should first have accused himself. 

Beloved, ' let the word of God dwell in you plenteously,' Col. iii. 1 6. Do 
not give it a cold entertainment, as you would do to a stranger, and so take 
your leave of it ; but esteem it as your best familiar and domestical friend : 
making it your chamber-fellow, study-fellow, bed-fellow. Let it have the best 
room and the best bed ; the parlour of our conscience, the resting-place in 
our heart. Neglected things are without the door, less respected within, but 
near the door. tSed qu(e pretiosa sunt, non uno servantur ostio, — The more 
worthy things are not trusted to the safety of one door, but kept under 
many locks and key.s. Give terrene things little regard, preserve them with 
a more removed care. But this pearl of inestimable value. Matt. xiii. 46, 
this jewel purer than gold of Ophir, Ps. cxix. 127 ; lay it not up in the 
porter's lodge, the outward ear, but in the cabinet and most inward closure 
of thy heart. Deut. xi. 18, ' Therefore shall ye lay up these my words in 
your heart and in your soul.' Mary thought that place the fittest receptacle 
• Tertul. in Apologet. + Chrysost. ia Math. Horn. 2. 



Jer. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 413 

for such oracles. This is that physic which can only cure the sickness of 
ignorance : 2ibi ifpwrans invtnil quod adcli^scat, contumax i/uid timeat, 
laborans quo pnemletur, puni/la/iimis quo nutriatur, famelicus conviviuin, 
vulneratus remedium, — where the ignorant may find what to learn, the re- 
fractory what to fear, the labt)urer wherewith to be rewarded, the weak 
nourishment, the guest a banquet, the wounded a remedy to cure him. Be 
not ignorant, be not sick. ' Search the Scriptures,' read, observe. This is 
not all. Xon prodest cibus, qui statlni sumptus emitlitur* — The meat 
nourisheth not which tarrieth not in the stomach. It must be digested by 
meditation and prayer. Meditalio docet quid desit, oratio ohtinet ne desit, — 
Meditation shews our want, prayer procureth sui)ply. Let it not be said of 
our perfunctory reading, as it was of the Delphian oracle, quoties legitar, 
iolies negligitur, — that we disregard what we read. Read to learn, learn to 
practise, practise to live, and live to praise God for ever. 

(3.) A third sickness, which may inwardly afflict a church, is dissension : a 
sore shaking to the joints, an enervating the strength, and dangerous degree 
to dissolution. The world being but one, teachcth that there is but one 
God that governs it ; one God, that there is but one church, one truth. 
The church is not only coluinna veritatis, sed columba unitatis, — the pillar of 
truth, 1 Tim. iil 15, but also the dove of unity : Cant. vi. 10, ' My dove, 
my undefiled is alone,' Dissensions, like secret and close Judases, have 
given advantageous means to our common enemies, both to scorn and 
scourge the church. Clemens lUcxandrinus + brings the heathen exprobrat- 
ing our religion for untrue, unwarrantable : quia omnis seda Christianismi 
titulum sibi vindicat, tainen alia aliam execratur et condemnal, — because 
every sect challengeth to itself the title and right of true Christianity, yet 
one curseth and condemneth another. Within how much the narrower 
limits this distraction is pent, it so much the more violently bursteth forth, 
and strives to rend the bow-els of a church : like some angry and furious 
vapour or exhalation restrained, that shakes the very earth for vent and 
passage. Such hath been the distractedness of some times, that men have 
laboured to be neuters, and studied more to be indiiferently disposed to either 
side, than to be religious at all. Such a time doth Erasmus mention : 
quando ingeniosa res fuit esse Christianum, — when it was a point of policy 
and wit to be a Christian. 

I confess, indeed, that unity is no inseparable and undoubted mark of the 
church ; for there was a unity in those murdering voices, ' Crucify him, 
crucify him ! ' ' The kings of the earth have banded themselves together 
against the Lord,' Ps. ii. 2. Those favourers and factors of Antichrist, Rev. 
xvii., that make war against the Lamb, are all said to ' have one mind.' Nay, 
Chrysostom saith, that expedit ipsis dcemonibus obaudire sibi invicem in 
schismate, — it is necessary for the very devils to hearken one to another, and 
to have some mutuality in their very muthiy, a union in their distraction. Yet 
can it not be denied but that dissension in a church is a sickness to it. It goes 
ill -vvith the body when the members agree not : those that dwell in one house 
should be of one mind. It endangers the whole builduig to ruin, when the 
stones square and jar one with another. What detriment this hath been to 
■whole Christendom, he hath no mind that considers not, no heart tliat con- 
doles not. We may say with the Athenians, Auxiinus I'hilipjium noa ipsi 
Athenitnses, — We have strengthened King Philip against us by our own con- 
tentions. Christian nation fighting with Christian hath laid more to the pos- 
session of the Turk than his own sword. Where is the Greek church, once so 
♦ Bern. f Stromat., Lib. vii. 



414 England's sickness. [Sermon XXII. 

famous ? GrcBciam in Grcecia qucerimus, saitli iEneas Sylvius, — We seek for 
Greece in Greece, and scarce find the remaining ruins. Behold, we have laid 
waste ourselves, who shall pity us ? Our own seditions have betrayed the 
peace of our Jerusalem. He hath no tears of Christian compassion in his 
eyes that will not shed them at this loss. If you ask the reason why the 
wild boar hath spoiled the vineyard, why the lim and Ziim, filthy and unclean 
birds, roost themselves in those sanctified dominions, why Mohammed is set 
up, like Dagon, where the ark once stood, and paganism hath thrust Chris- 
tianity out of her seat, it is answered, Israel is not true to Judah ; the rend- 
ing of the ten tribes from the two hath made both the two and the ten 
miserable. 

It is one of the sorest plagues, (oh, rather let it fall on the enemies of God 
and his church ! let Ms own never feel it,) when men shall be ' fed with their 
own flesh, and shall be drunk with their own blood, as with sweet wine.' Isa. 
xlix. 26, frighting and fighting one against another, till an utter extirpation 
devour and swallow all. The malignity of this sickness hath been terrible to 
particular churches. They that have been least endamaged have little cause 
to joy in it. Our own home-bred jars have lately more prejudiced our peace 
than foreign wars. The Spanish blades have done less hurt unto us than 
English tongues. Our contentions have laboured about trifles, our damage 
hath been no trifle ; but I know not whether more to our loss or our enemy's 
gain. Look but on the effects, and you will confess this a dangerous sick- 
ness. Rome laughs, Amsterdam insults ; whiles the brethren scuffle in the 
vineyard, atheists and persecutors shuffle in to spoil all. God's Sabbath, his 
worship, his gospel is neglected. Some will hear none but the refractory 
and refusers of conformity; others take advantage of their disobedience to 
contemn their ministry. Wicked hearts are hardened, good ones grieved, 
weak offended. Is this no sickness 1 Is it unworthy our deploring, our 
imploring redress 1 

We are all brethren, both by father's and mother's side. It is more than 
enough that our fdlings-out have been a grief to both our parents. If we 
proceed, the brethren shall smart for all. Whether we be victors or van- 
quished, we may beshrew ourselves. Let us think we behold our mother 
calling us to stay our quarrels, and to lay down the cause at her feet. 
Otherwise, as Jocasta told her two sons — 

' Bella geri placuit, nullos babitura triumpbos,' — 

we undertake a war whose victory shall have a sorry triumph. Let every 
star in our orb know his station, and run his course without erring ; the in- 
ferior subjecting themselves to the higher powers, whiles the courses of 
superiors be wisely tempered with moderation and clemency. For etsi om- 
nibus verbi ministris commune idemque sit officium, sunt tamen Jionoris gradus* 
— though the office of all God's ministers be common and the same, yet they 
have different degrees and places. 

We have adversaries enow at home to move our tongues and pens against. 
Oh that arguments of steel and iron might supply the weakness of the 
other ! We have the Edomites with their no God, and the Babylonians with 
their new god ; dissolute atheists, resolute Papists : the former scoffing us 
for believing at all, the latter for believing as we do, as we ought. These 
oppose (though under the pent-house of night) mass against service, sacra- 
ment against sacrament, prayer against prayer; confounding the language of 
England, as the Jews once of Israel. Whiles we are praying in one place, 

* Calvin. 



Jer, VIII. 22.] England's sickness. i\$ 

'O Lord God of Abraham,' etc., they are inunibliiig in another place, 'O 
Baal, hear us.' Wliiles we pray for fire to coiisumo the sacrifice, they for 
water to consume the fire ; we fur the propagation, thoy for the extirpation 
of the gospel ; hathig us and our Christian i)rinces more mortally than if we 
were Saracens. For as no bond is so strong as that of religion, so no hosti- 
lity is so cruel and outrageous as that which difference in religion occasioneth. 
Hence they cross, they curse, they persecute, they excoiiimuuicate. Nothing 
but our blood can stay their stomachs. 

We know they hate us ; let us the more dearly love one another. The 
manifestation of enemies .should confirm the mutual league and amity of 
brethren. ' Oh, pray for the peace of Jerusalem !' Pray we that the deceived 
may find their errors, correct their opinions, and submit their judgments and 
affections to the ride of tnith. Yea, that the wandering sheep, yea, that 
those who are yet goats may become sheep, and be brouglit into one fold, 
under one shepherd. Whiles they continue cockle there is small hope. Yet 
Paul was once a tare, who after proved good wheat, and is now in the gamer 
of heaven. Bede dicilur f/lacialem nivem calidum esse non posse: iiullo enim 
facto qiiamdiit 7iix est, calida esse potest^"' — It is truly said that the frozen 
snow can by no means be made hot , for so long as it is snow, and frozen, 
it admits not to be calefied. Yet if that snow be melted, the liquidity thereof 
may be made hot. God, that is able to turn a otony heart into a heart of 
flesh, work this change upon them ; unite aU our hearts to himself, to one 
another ; and heal our souls of this sickness ! 

(4.) To omit many, — for sins, as they are innumerable for multitude, so 
diverse for quality ; and many can define sin, but few decline sin, — the last 
of these inward sicknesses is irreligious profaneness ; a grief of all times, a 
disease of all churches. Other times have been notable for this, ours noto- 
rious. Not that I praise the former, which doubtless were conscious of evds 
enough. They know theirs, we our own. ' The deeds of the flesh,' if ever, 
'are now manifest,' Gal. v. 19, not only to God, 'before whom all things lie 
naked,' Heb. iv. 1 3, as a dissected anatomy, but even to the observing eye 
of man. Oppression shews itself in open field, depopulating, rummg city, 
country, church. Drunkenness reels in the street, and gluttony desires not 
to be housed. Malice not only discovers, but ostenteth her devUish eft'ects. 
Bribery opens his hand to receive in the very courts. Robbery and murder 
swagger in the highways. There is emulation in open school, superstition. 
in open temple, sects in open pulpit. Brokery stands, .like a sign, at the 
usurer's door, and invites foolish w'ant to turn in thither for a miserable 
supply. Whoredom begins to neglect curtains, and grows proud of an im- 
pudent prostitution. Pride holds the restraint of concealment a plague, and 
rather would not be, than be unnoted. Oaths are louder than prayers ; men 
scarce spend two hours of seven days at their supplications, whiles they 
swear away the whole week. If profaneness be not our sickness, I will 
almost say we are sound. 

' Niger omnibus aris, 
Ignis, et in nullis spirat deua integer extiB.' f 

If this sickness be not lamentable, rejoice, triumph, and say you have no 
need to mourn. If a temporal loss fall on us, we entertain it with ululationa 
and tears. Let pirates and rocks spoil us at sea, the oppressing Sabeans in 
the field, the fire at home : see we our houses and towns flaming, our gold 
and goods (worldlings' gods) transporting, our wives, children, friends, shrieking 
. ♦ Aug. t Stat. Theb. 5. 



416 England's sickness. [Sermon XXIL 

under the hand of slaughter, we need not ' call for mourning women,' Jer. ix. 
17, to wail for us; ' our own eyes would run down with tears, and our eye- 
lids gush out with waters,' ver. 18. Let profaneiiess lift up his wicked hand 
against God, to blaspheme his name, despise his truth, disallow his Sabbaths, 
abuse his patience, deride his treatings, his threatenings, his judgments ; this 
we see and suffer without compassion, without opposition. But ' knowing 
the judgment of God, that they which commit such things are worthy of 
death, we not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do them,' 
Kom. i. 32. 

These sicknesses may afllict a church inwardly. She may be sick out- 
ivardly — (1.) By the persecution of man ; (2.) By the affliction of God. 

(1.) By persecution of man. I need not call your thoughts back to elder 
times, and weary you with antiquities, to justify this assertion. This church 
of ours so well remembers this sickness in Queen Mary's days, as if she were 
but newly recovered. Whence descended those evils but cL culmine Pontificio, 
as one calls it, — from the top tower of the Pope ? Yet the Romists stick not 
to answer this, laid to their charge, by averring paradoxically that their per- 
secution was in love, as Sarah to Hagar. In love they tyrannised, .slandered, 
beat, imprisoned, manacled, massacred, burned us ; all in love. As Phihp- 
pides cudgelled his father, and pleaded it was in love. If this were charity, 
then sure the very 'mercies of the wicked are cruel ;' their love is worse 
than others' hatred. Nunquid ovis lupum persequitur aliquando ? non, sed 
lupus ovem. Queni videris in sanguine persecutionis gaudentem, lupus est, 
saith Chrysostom;* — Doth the sheep ever persecute the wolf^ no, but the 
wolf the sheep. Whom thou seest delighting in the blood of innocence, let 
him plead what he will, he is a very wolf. We tell the Papists, as Augus- 
tine told the Donatists, notwithstanding their distinguishing by pretences, 
that their persecution exceeded in cruelty the very Jews'. For the Jews per- 
secuted Christi carnem ambidantis in terra; these Christi evangelium sedentis 
in coelo, — the flesh of Christ walking on earth ; the Papists the gospel of 
Christ sitting in heaven. But their cruelty is our glory ; we have sprung up 
the thicker for their cutting us down : plures efficimur, quoties metimur, — 
coiitrary to the rules of arithmetic, our subtraction hath been our multipli- 
cation. The church of God morte vivit, vulnere nascitur, receiveth birth by 
wounding, life by dying. Occidi possumus, vinci non possumus, — as the in- 
evitable and invincible truth hath manifested. We may be killed, we can- 
not be conquered. ' For thy sake we are killed aU the day long,' as Paul 
saith, Rom. viii. 36, from the Psalmist, Ps. xliv. 22, — to shew that both the 
church of the Old Testament and of the New give experimental testimony of 
the truth, — yet ' in aU these things we are more than conquerors, through 
him that loved us,' ver. 37. If our plant had not been set up by the all- 
prospering hand of God, the malignancy of these enemies would have soon 
rooted it up. They have verified, in their persecutions against us, what one 
of their ownf writes of the Turkish Alcoran : Omnium quae in Alchorano 
continentur, ultima resolutio est gladius, — The last resolution, propagation, 
propugnation of all things contained xw the Alcoran (in the Pope's decretals) 
is (not the word, but) the sword. But blessed be our God, that hath limited 
this rage, and sealed us our quietus est. Though they will have no peace 
with us, we have peace with him that can overrule them. 

But have we no persecutors still 1 Oh that no Israelite would ever strike 
his brother ! There are two sorts of persecutors remaining — Esaus and Ish- 
maels ; nourished with the same air, borne on the same earth, and carried 
* lu Matth., Horn. 19. t Cusan. 



Jee. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 417 

in the indulgent bosom of the same church. But nohis ignominia non sit, 
pati It fratribiis quod passus est Chrijstus; ne'iue Hits gloria, facere quod fecit 
Jndas* — Let it be no more shame for us to suftor of our brethren what our 
Saviour suffered of his, than it is glory for them to do the works of Judas. 
Some persecute with the hand, others with the tongue. Exercent hi sapien- 
tiam, illi patientiam ecclesiw, — The hitter exercise the wisdom, the former 
the patience of the church. We are secured from Ahabs, and Herods, and 
Neroes ; the teeth of the dogs be broken, and the jaws of the wolves i)ulled 
out ; the Bouners and butchers of the church are hushed in their graves. 
Oh that the serpents also, which hiss and spit their venom at our peace, 
when all the birds of our air sing acclamations to it, were at quiet ! But ' as 
then he that was born after the flesh persecuted him that was born after the 
Spirit, even so it is now,' Gal. iv. 29 : now so, and will be so. We cannot 
see an end of these things without the end of all things. Our turn is still 
to suffer : we return not blow for blow ; but instead of sounding a point of 
war, we cry one to another, Paliamur potius, — ' Let us rather suffer.' Let 
the Roman affections, like so many pestilent rivers, run all in mare rubrum, 
or rather in mare raoriuum, — into the red sea, into the dead sea ; and snatch- 
ing the sword of vengeance out of his hand that owns it, quit themselves on 
their imagined enemies with blood and death. Let him that is styled the 
servant of servants shew himself the tyrant of tyrants. Philosophy teacheth 
that external accidents change inward qualities, but without an absolute 
mutation ipsius speciei, they change no substances. A church may indeed 
at one time be better or worse disjiosjd than at another ; more hot or more 
cold ; more sick or more whole. But as it were a strange fit that should 
transform Apuleius mto an ass, so it were a strange variation of accidents in 
a church, that should turn patience into cruelty, humility into pride, a tutor 
into a tormentor. Let their motto be ferio, the term whereon all their 
arguments rest ; let ours be fero. It is far better to suffer than to offer 
wrong. Let savage persecution sit under the ensigns of wolves ; meekness 
and patience be our arms and armours. 

This outward malady of a church, persecution, discovers the malignity of 
itself in many extensions. Especially, [1.] In martyring her professors; [2.] 
In treason against her sovereigns ; [3.] In seducing her seers. 

[1,] ^lartyrdom. God hath in all ages of his church suffered some wit- 
nesses of his holy truth to be purified like gold in the fire. Though they, 
are blessed that have so suffered, and the church hath in conclusion gained 
by this loss ; yet during the turbulent working of these thunder exhalations 
in our air, we have lamented miseram regumis faciem, the miserable state of 
our country, whose face hath been snatched and torn by the bloody nails of 
these persecuting bears. Needs must the land be sick, where the governors, 
like ill physicians, have purged away the good humours and left the bad 
behind them. When they have imprisoned, stripped, scourged, famished, 
dro\\nied, burnt the innocent, and rewarded the wretched instruments of such 
deeds : when the i)Oor infant falling out, by the midwifery of fire, from the 
mother's womb, liath been cast back again into the mothers flames : when the 
bodies and bones of the dead, which by the law of nature should rest in quiet, 
have been digged out of their sepulchres, violated, cursed, burnt, as if, saith 
the proverb, they would kill ' God have mercy on his soul :' when women 
have been dragged out of their houses, sick men from their beds ; and the 
woods have abounded with saints, whiles the teuqfles with their persecutors ; 
wUd deserts have been frequented with true worshippers, Heb. xi. 38, and 
* Cypr., lil). i., ep. 3. 
VOL. I. 2 U 



418 England's sickness. [Sermon XXII. 

the consecrated churches with idolaters : when the holy book was either 
not had or must be hid ; — is it no impeachment of a church's health to have 
these assaults goring her sides 1 Such a time will give cause to complam 
with Israel, ' I am in distress ; my bowels are troubled : mine heart is turned 
within me, for I have grievously rebelled : abroad the sword bereaveth, at 
home there is death,' Lam. i. 20. — This is the main blow of persecution. 

[2.] Treason is a fearful and prodigious evil. Needs must the body o£ 
that realm be in hazard whose head is broken. They mean Israel no good, 
that strike at the life of David. I confess that this evil is not so properly 
(in strict terms) a sickness as a danger. Yet as a man that hath ill humours 
in him, though by good diet and strength of nature they are kept from uniting 
their forces, and casting him down, cannot be said to be in health whiles 
those enemies remain within him, watching their time of mischief ; so the 
church, though it be not sensitive of the fever which such raw and undi- 
gested crudities as traitors can put her into till it be upon her, yet can she 
not be perfectly well till she he purged of such pernicious and malignant 
adversaries. Were not the Fauxes of that horrid treason a disease and bur- 
den to the stomach of the land, tiU it had spued them out 1 Did not those 
pray against her, and prey upon her 1 Would they not as willingly have 
sacrificed through the fire, to their Moloch of Rome, the whole church, as 
those principal pillars of it they plotted to blow up 1 They wanted not will, 
but power. They would have swelled their vengeance till it had run over 
the verges, and comprised in one work mille actus vetitos, et mille piaciila, — 
iimumerable stratagems, the easiest whereof was the intention of murder, — till 
they had made a catholic end with a heretic church, as they call it. But 
the God of Jerusalem prevented the children of Edom : who is blessed for 
ever ! It appears then, regicides are no less than regnicides, Lam. iv. 20 ; 
for the life of a king contains a thousand thousand lives ; and traitors make 
the land 'sick which they live in. — This is the second dangerous blow of 
persecution. 

[3.] The third is, seducing a church's seers, and perverting the children 
of the prophets, which is most commonly done rather with error than with 
terror; by beguiling than affrighting them. I have read, that Julians 
cruellest persecution was with rewards. How many have been wafted over 
the seas with golden hands ! Promotion rather than devotion hath cast 
many on the shores of Rome. There lies an exorcism, an enchanting powei' 
in gold, that conjures many weak spirits into that superstitious circle. Then 
at last home they come, and prove calthrops, to wound the country's sides 
that bred and fed them. Antichrist's spell is gold, and they that will wor- 
.ship a piece of red earth will not stick to adore that glorious beast. Self- 
conceit blows them up with a swellmg imagination of their own worth, and 
if our church doth not et numerare et rnunerare inter dignissimos, — give re- 
gard and reward, estimation and recompense according to their proud desires, 
they will shift realm and religion too for a hoped guerdon. You will say, 
there is little loss to the body in dropping off of such rotten members. It 
is true that the damage is principally their own ; yot what mother doth not 
grieve at the apostasy of her children 1 There is some hope whiles tliey are 
at home, little when revolted to the enemy. Meantime, let it not be denied 
but the seducers are persecutors, and great enemies to the church's health. 

(2.) Thus may a church be outwardly sick by man's persecution : she may 
be sick also by God's affliction. This is diverse, accordingly as our sins de- 
serve, and his judgment thinks fit to punish us: [!■] l^y war; [2.] ]}y 
famine ; [3.] By pestilence : the easiest of them heavy enough, and able to 



Jer. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 419 

deprive a church of health. Though the first might seem to be man's wea- 
pon, and so titter to have been inserted among the former persecutions, as 
Israel termed her enemies, ' Our persecutors are swifter than the eagles of 
the heaven : they pursued us upon the mountains, they laid wait for us in 
the wilderness,' Lam. iv. 19 -. yet because God calls Ashur his rod, and it is 
he that sends either peace or war, and no adversary sword can be lifted up 
against us but by more than his permi.ssion, for he hath a punishing hand in 
it ; let us see how he can make his church of Israel sick : — 

[1.] ]Va)' is that miserable desolation which finds a land before it like 
Eden, and leaves it behind like Sodom and Gomorrah, a desolate and for- 
saken wilderness. Hapi>y are we that cannot judge of the terrors of war but 
by report and hearsay ; that never .saw our towns and cities burning, while 
the flume gave light to the soldiers to carry away our goods ; that never saw 
our houses rifled, our temples spoiled, our wives ravished, our children bleed- 
ing dead on the pavements, or sprawling on the merciless pikes ! We never 
heard the groans of our own dying, and the clamours of our enemies' insult- 
ing, confusedly sounding in our distracted ears ; the wife breathing out her 
life in the arms of her husband ; the children snatched from the breasts of 
their mothers, by the terror of their slaughters to aggravate the ensuing tor- 
ments of their own. We have been strangers to this misery in passion ; let 
us not be so in compassion. Think you have seen these miseries with your 
neighbours' eyes, and felt them through their sides. 

Let it somewhat touch us that we have been threatened. Octogesimus 
octai'us mirabilis annus, — Have we forgotten the wonderful year of '88 1 
An enemy of a savage face and truculent spirit ; whose arms were bent to 
harms, to ruin, to blood, to vastation ; whose numbers were like locusts, able 
to lick up a country, as the ox grass ; the ensigns of whose ships were assur- 
ance and victory ; whiles they cast lots upon our nation, and easily swallowed 
the hope of our destruction : a mortal enemy, an implacable fury, an ' in- 
vincible navy.' Lo, in the heat and height of all, our God laughed them to 
scorn, sunk them, drunk them up with his waves ; tottered, scattered them 
on the waters, like chaff on the face of the earth, before the wind and tem- 
pest of his indignation. All their intentions, their contentions, their pre- 
sumption of conquest were disappointed, dissolved, discomfited. These 
thing.s, though they have not seen, let our children's children, to the last 
generation that shall inhabit this land, never forget, that we and they may 
praise God, who ' hath made fast the bars of our gates, and hath settled 
peace in our borders,' Ps, cxlvii. 13, 14. 

[2.] Famine is a sore outward sickness, an afliiction sent by the immediate 
hand of God. For it is he that withholdeth the influence of heaven, and 
the kindly heat of the sun, and the nourishing .sap of the earth : Amos iv. G, 
' I have given you cleanness of teeth in all your cities, and want of bread 
in all your places, saith the Lord.' As it is his blessing that * our valleys 
are covered over with corn,' Ps. Ixv. 1 3, so it is his plague that ' we have sown 
much, and bring in little,' Hag. i. G ; that the ' mower filloth not his hand, 
nor he that bindeth sheaves his bosom,' P.s. cxxix. 7. When he is pleased, 
' he will hear the heavens, and they shall hear the earth ; and the earth shall 
hear the com, and wine, and oil ; and they shall hear us,' Hos. ii. 21. Eng- 
land hath felt the smart of this sickness, and she, that out of her abundance 
hath been able to lend others, hath also been glad to borrow of her neigh- 
bours. The 'fiit kine of Ikishan,' Amos vi., ^-ich gormandiscrs, have not 
been acquainted indeed with this misery, and therefore have not ' sorrt)wed 
for the affliction of Joseph.' But the uoor, the poor have grieved, groaned 



420 England's sickness. [Sermon XXII, 

under this burden ; whiles cleanness of teeth and swarthiness of look were 
perceived in the common face. Whiles these ' arrows of famine ' wounded 
our sides, Ezek. v. 1 6, and our staff of bread, whereon our very life leans, 
was broken, we could then cry, Ilic digitus Dei, — Here is the finger of God. 
In our plenty, saturity, satiety of these earthly blessings, wc acknowledge 
not manum expansam, Ids whole hand of bounty opened ,to us ; though 
then we confessed digitum extensum, his finger striking us, and bewailed 
the smart. 

Famine is terrible enough of itself ; more dire and tetrical in regard of the 
company she brings along witL her. For — 

' Sseva fames semper magnorum prima malorum 
Est comes,' * — 

Raging famine is the prime companion of many fellow-mischiefs. Ex una 
grano oritur acervus, — Of one grain of this starving misery ariseth a whole 
heap of lamentable woes. The attendants of famine are murders, robberies, 
rapes ; killing of children, that the same vessels become the wombs and 
tombs of little ones ; and innumerable stretchings of conscience, to the revok- 
ing of former, and provoking of future judgments. No marvel if hunger dis- 
regard the mounds and fences of God's laws and man's, when it breaks 
through stone walls. The poet describes famine — i 

' Qusesitamque famem lapidoso vidit in antro,' &c., — f 

Behold hunger in her stony den, tearing up the grass with her long nails 
and sharp teeth, her neglected hairs grown rough and tangled, her eyes 
hollow, her cheeks pale, her skin rugged and swarthy, left only as a thin 
scarf to hide her lank entrails ; nothing clean about her but her teeth ; her 
dry bones starting up, her breasts hanging over in the air, her joints swollen 
big and huge, her sinews shrunk, as unwilling to hold her limbs together. 
This is that monster that turns men into cannibals, unnaturally to devour one 
another's flesh. I have read that at Turwyn;}: in France, the famine was so 
deadly that man's flesh was sold for food. This sickness is worse than 
death. Happy are we that God's mercy hath banished this plague from our 
land ; oh, let not our iniquities revoke it ! 

[3.] The pestilence we better know, as one that hath but a little while 
been kept out of our doors, and watcheth when our iniquities shall again let 
him in. He skulks about, and will not be rid away till repentance hath 
made our coast clear. This is God's pursuivant, that hath rode circuit in our 
land, and to whomsoever God hath sent him, he never returned with a non 
est inventus, but always brought, si non corpus, tamen animam cum causa, — 
if not the body, yet the soul, with the cause, before his judgment-seat. This 
is he that ' rides on the pale horse,' Rev, vi., and ' catcheth men as with a 
snare,' perhaps when they have most hasted from him. How hath this 
plague left the very streets of our cities empty, when they seemed to have 
been sowed with the seed of man ; how astonied the living, frighted the 
dying, disjoined the mutual society and succour of friend to friend, and tliat 
in a tinic when comfort would have been most seasonably welcome ; trembling 
hands pulling dead V)odic3 into the graves with, hooks, or rolling them into 
pits I 

Turn back your eyes, that now live in the Appcnine height of peace and 
health, and think you sec t|^e lamentable state of your country, as few years 
past discovered it. Imagine you behold the hand- wringing widows beating 

* Luoan, lib. iv. t Metam., lib. viii. J TerouoiiiK;.— Ed. 



Jkk. VIII. 22.] England's SICKNESS. 421 

their bosoms over tlicir departing husbands ; the distracted mothers fidliiig 
into swoons, wliilcs they kiss the insen.sible cokl lips of their breathless in- 
fants ; poor desolate orphans, that now mourn the untimely loss of their 
parents, as being made by years more sensible of their want than when 
death's pestilential hand took them away ; the loud gro;uis and strugglmg 
pangs of souls departing ; servants crying out for masters, wives for hus- 
bands, parents for children, children for mothers; grief in every house 
striking up alarums : bells heavily tolling in every place, ringing out in 
another ; numbers of people, that not many hours before had their several 
chambers delicately heighted, now confusedly thrust together into one close 
room, a little noisome hole, not twelve feet square. They have marble 
bosoms that wUl not be shaken with these terrors, and have sucked tigresses 
in the wilderness that cannot compassionate these calamities. How did 
they grieve a church to feel them, when they affect, afflict, and make us sick 
to hear them ! 

I know you have long looked for an end ; I never delighted in prolLxity 
of si>eech. What remains, but the more terrible we conceive these sicknesses 
of a church, the more we bless God for the present health of ours ? Let not 
our sins call back these plagues ; let us not provoke our God, lest earth, air, 
heaven, renew their strokes upon us. Wars and famines from the earth, 
plagues from the air, judgments from the clouds ; they arc all restrained at 
oiu' repentance, let loose at our rebellions. Oh, serve we the Lord our God 
with fear and obedience, that he may delight to do us good, and we to 
praise his name! that we ourselves, and our children after us, and the 
generations yet unborn, may see the ' peace of Jerusalem ' all their days ! 
that the golden bells of Aaron may be freely rung, and the trophies of 
victory over all antichristian enemies may still be seen amongst us ! even tiU 
this Easter and Feast of the Kesurrection of our Saviour Jesus overtake the 
resurrection of all his saints ! 

Grant this, Father, for thy mercies' ; Christ, for thy merits' ; O blessed 
Spirit, for thy holy name's sake : to whom, three Persons in glorious trinity, 
one only true and immortal God in unity, be aU power, praise, majesty, and 
mercy, acknowledged for ever ! Amen. 



ENGLAND'S SICKNESa 

(CONTINUED.) 



Why is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered f— 
Jee. Vlli. 22. 

II. We have described tlie person, the church of Israel, as she is her own, 
as she is her owner's ; what in regard of herself, what in respect of her God. 
It remains now only to inquire how she is affected. She is sick ; which is 
necessarily implied from God's complaint : ' Why is not the health of my 
daughter recovered V She was sick, and so sick that the prophet complains, 
' Her wound is incurable, for it is come,' even to the heart, ' unto Judah,' Mic. 
i. 9 : incurable in regard of her own misery, not of her Saviour's mercy. 
She was low brought in the Babylonish captivity : ' Except the Lord of hosts 
had left unto us a very small remnant, we should have been as Sodom, and 
like imto Gomorrah,' Isa. i. 9. ' It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not 
consumed, because his compassions,' though our obedience, ' fail not,' Lam. 
iii. 22. But her honour lay in the dust, when her apostasy had forfeited her 
happiness ; superstition taking the upper-hand of devotion, and the traditions 
of man getting the start and ascendency of God's precepts ; when her disease 
grew to frenzy, and her sickness so far from all recoverable hope, that she 
had slain her physician, and killed him that should have cured her. 

Whence it appears that a particular visible church might and may fall 
away from grace, and have the ' candlestick removed,' Kev. ii. 5. The 
Papists brag of their numerous multitude, and promontorious celsitude. 
Home boasts that her church stands upon a hill, Matt. v. 14 : so it doth, 
on six hills too many. Rev. xvii. 9. She is mounted high enough, if this 
could justify her. She had better bate of her height, and rise in her good- 
ness. There may be a local succession, but if not in faith and doctrine, 77iole 
ruit sua, her top-heavy weight overthrows her. May it not be said of her, 
as Jeremiah of Egypt, ' Go up into Gilead, and take balm, O virgin, the 
daughter of Egypt ; in vain shalt thou use many medicines, for thou shalt 
not be cured r Jer. xlvi. 11. It is no wonder then, no wrong, if we depart 
from her that hath departed from the truth of the gospel and faith of 
Christ. 

I will not descend into the view of her apostasy, though just occasion 
may seem here offered ; but turn my speech to ourselves, who are sound in 



JeR. VIII. 22.] EXOLANDS SICKNESS. 423 

doctrine, sick in conversation ; but, I trust, not without good hope of re- 
covery. 

But so soon as the Iloniish malignancy hears me eay, * We are sick,' they 
instantly insult, reproaching our doctrine. But do men try the faith by the 
persons, or the persons by the faith 1 It is a silly argument d, moribus ad 
doctrinam, from the life to the doctrine. Yet, though we desire and strive 
to have our own lives better, we fear not to match them with theirs. Our 
sickness would be esteemed less, if we would go to Rome for a medicine. 
For the Papist may better steal the horse, than the Protestant look on. But 
so long as we have approved physicians at home, what need we walk so far 
to a mountebank 1 It is a fiilse rumour, that there is no sound air but the 
Eoniish. Is it not rather true, that thence comes ill infection ; and that 
they who have forsaken us to seek health there, have gone out of God's bless- 
ing into the warm sun ? 

Our lives trouble them : this they object, this they exprobrate ad nauseam 
usque. But do they not stumble at our straws, and leap over their own 
blocks ? cavil at our motes, and forget, or justify, their own beams ? The 
swelling on the fox's head shall be a horn, if the Pope will so judge it ; a 
Catiline, Lopus, Garnet, Faux, an honest man, a catholic, a saint, if he will so 
interpret, so canonise him. If I should but prick this rank vein, how woidd 
Rome bleed ! Would not hoec prodidisse be vicisse, as Erasmus said of 
Augustine dealing against the Manichccs, — the very demonstration of these 
things be a sufficient conviction ? Unnatural and hideous treasons ; con- 
spiracies against whole kingdoms ; deposing, dethroning, touching with a 
murderous hand Christos Dei, the anointed of God ; oaths, uncleannesses, 
perjuries, — from whom are they produced, by whom practised, if not mostly, 
if not only by Papists 1 They pry, search, deride, censure the forepart of 
their w\^llet, wherein they put our iniquities ; whiles their own sins are ready 
to break their necks behind them. The greatest evils we have are theirs ; 
fathered by those that will not be mothered of our church : Ilcec non ad 
frumenta Christi, sed ad eonim paleam pertinent, — These belong not to 
Christ's wheat, but to the chaff of Antichrist. These are monsters bred of 
that viperous dam, that have shook hands with humanity, with civility, 
though they reserve the form of religion. 

Si quid in his possem, facerem sterilescere viatrem, as one of their own said, — 
It were well if either the children would forsake their kind, or tlie mother 
become barren. Yet must these men be saints, and stand named with red 
letters in the Pope's calendar ; red indeed, so dyed with the martyred blood 
of God's servants. 

But I am not delighted to stand upon comparisons, if their exclamations 
had not put me to it ; that, like blown Pharisees, cry out with ostentation 
of sanctity, ' God, I thank thee, that I am not as otlier men are, or as this 
publican,' Luke xviii. 11. What age, people, church, were ever yet so holy, 
that the preachers found no cause of reproof, of complaint against it 1 Chry- 
sostom speaketh of his times : ' Christians now arc become like pagans or 
worse.' Yet who will say that the religion of pagans was better than that 
of Christians. The priest and Levite had no mercy, the Samaritan had ; 
yet their religion was the true, and not the Samaritan's. If some Papists 
amongst us, and tho.se very few, live in more formal and moral honesty, yet 
this commendeth not their whole church. They are now in the time of their 
persecution, as they take it, though their prosperity and numbers evince the 
contrary ; we are in our peace, and who loiows not that an easy occasion of 
wantonness 1 



424 ENGLAND'S SICKNESS. [SeRMON XXIII. 

I deny not that we have grievous offenders ; we mourn and pray for them. 
Do the Papists rejoice at this 1 Woe to him that is glad of God's dishonour I 
Let them brag their perversion of some which were ours, but such and so 
affected to viciousncss. If we had lost more of atheists, sacrilegious adult- 
erers, licentious hypocrites, we had as little reason to complain as they to 
be proud. "VVe are the fewer, they not the better. We desire, endeavour, 
reprove, exhort, instruct all, with purpose of heart to save them in the day 
of the Lord Jesus ; if they wish not the same, we are content to differ as far 
from them in our desires as we do in our doctrines. If there were none 
sick, we might lay aside our physic ; but there are many, too many, — all in 
some measure, James iii. 2, some in aU measure, beyond measure, — therefore 
we must proceed. 

Sickness is the subject, and the observations that shall limit my short en- 
suing speech are quadruple : — 1. The precious benefit of spiritual health, 
which we shall the better discern if we compare it with corporal ; 2. What 
sickness is incident to man ; 3. That the sickness of the soul is most danger- 
ous ; 4. Lastly, who are the sick. 

1. Health is precious ; chara est cuigue salus. Every man's health is dear 
to him. Exclude from this comparison the gifts of the mind, which are truly 
of a more pure and changeless condition, and then what earthly benefit will 
not give place to health 1 It is one of the positive virtues, graffed in man's 
nature with the creation. Weigh it in the balance with some rivals. 

(L) Riches are the desire of many hearts, the special fruit which their 
hands reach to gather, (passing by all the better trees in God's orchard,) the 
object of most endeavours. How vain, how tedious, how odious, are they 
without health ! Let them bind gold to their aching head, drink Cleopatra's 
draught, (precious stones dissolved,) to ease their rasping stomach, involve 
and wrap their convulsed joints in furs and silks, empty their coffers in the 
physician's study ; if nature and her ordinator, God, deny health, how un- 
valuable are their riches, how unavailable their projects ! How complain 
they, after all experimented succours, their unabated anguish ! Therefore 
the son of Sirach truly saith, ' Better is the poor, being sound and strong of 
constitution, than a rich man that is afflicted in his body. Health and good 
state of body are above all good, a strong body above infinite wealth. There 
is no riches above a sound body, and no joy above the joy of the heart,' 
Ecclus. XXX. 14-16. 

' The. poor man well, only admireth wealth ; 
The rich man sick, only commendeth health.' 

Health gives means to be rich, riches give no means to be healthful. Nay, 
they are rather traitors and adversaries to it ; not scaffolds, whereby health 
is built up, but stairs to descend by to the grave. The rich man's quotidian 
delicacies rotted him for death. Where there is a full purse, and an ambi- 
tious appetite, there is a close and unsuspected conspiracy against the health. 
Thus wc do not more eagerly pursue opulency in our soundness, than in our 
sickness we contemptibly despise, loathingly dislike it. 

(2.) Is there any ascendency in pleasure above health? Will not that 
carry up a brave forehead without being beholden to it ? Alas ! cold is the 
entertainment of delight to a warish and sickly carcass, Misera est voluptas, 
ubi i^ericuli memoria adest, — Pleasure is unpleasant to the memory guilty of 
instant danger. It is epicurean, profane, and idle physic to sorrow. 

' The laying wine on cares to make thoni .sink : 
Who fears tlie tlireats of fortune, let him drink.' 



JkR. VIII. 1*2.J ENGLAND'S SICKNESS. 425 

Why doth not then that Chaldean monarch continue his enrousings, and wash 
away the characters of that fatal hand from his heart with iloods of wine ? 
Dan. V. 5. Alas ! sorrow will kec[) a man sol)or, and restrain him from any 
drunkenness but its own. To omit that mortem dahU Ipsd vultipUis, and ' the 
end of mirth is heaviness,' what pleasure can fasten her slippery hold on the 
afflicted heart ? It is loatheil whiles it objects and prostitutes itself to our 
sight, courting and wooing our atfections : the more greedily we draw on 
pleasure, the sooner it loseth the nature, and is turned into the contrary.* 
Miserable comforter, (as Job's friends were justly called,) whose requested 
mitigation turns to the aggravation of our misery. When pleasure opens the 
shop of all her delectable wares, and prays the sick hand to choose what best 
affects it, — shows, perfumes, colours, wine, junkets, sports, company, music, 
— she is answered with nothing but ' Away with them, away with them ! ' 
They are no medicines for the headache, one dram of health is worth a talent 
of pleasure. 

How dotingly do men (in their wanton days) take it up ! Nay, how 
doth it take up them ! as the philosopher truly : Xoii nos voliiptatem, sed 
voluptas nos habet; ciijus aut inopia torquemur, aut copia straiujnlamur : 
misen, sideserimur ah ilia, miseiiores, si ohruimur;\ — "We possess not pleasure, 
but pleasure us ; whereof we are either perplexed with the want, or strang- 
led with the abundance : we are wretched if it leave us, more wretched if it 
overwhelm us. But sickness, when it comes, mars the relish of it to the 
mind, as of meats to the palate, and sends it away without a welcome, not 
without a check and defiance. Sickness, a stronger power (if weakness may 
be called strength) than pleasure, hath gotten possession of a man, and laughs 
at the vaui endeavour of vanity to remove it. This is the time to say to 
' laughter, Thou art mad,' and to esteem mirth a tedious, odious, irksome 
gueat. They that nan voluptates sibi emunt, sed se voluptatihus vendunt, — buy 
not pleasure to themselves, but sell themselves to pleasure, as Esau did his 
birthright for it, find in sickness the memory of what they do love and must 
leave, an addition to their present malady. So felicitas hath no more left 
but the first syllable, fel, gall ; and pleasure hath no plea sure but this, that 
it is short during the sweetness, long in the bitterness neces.sarily following 
it. Health then is beyond pleasure also, without which it is either not de- 
lightful, or is not at all. 

(3.) Jjoth these have lost the prize ; let us see if honour can win it. Alas ! 
what is it to sit groaning in a chair of state 1 or to lie panting on a bed of 
down ? It is little content to have many knees bow to thee, whiles thine 
bow to sickness ; to have many uncovered heads attend thee, and thuie own, 
though covered, find no ease. How wouldest thou be glad to change places 
A\ith the meanest servant, on condition thou mightest change bodies Avith 
him ! How much of thine honour wouldest thou lay out for a little of this 
health ! He that lives in the height of honour and wealth repines at no- 
thing more than to see the hungry labourer feed on a crust, whiles his own 
nice and squeasy stomach, still weary of his last meal, puts him into a study 
whether he should eat of his best dish, or nothing. 

How poor, how weak, how nothhig besides a name, is honour, when sick- 
ness hath dismounted it ! when the coach is turned to a litter, the feather 
to a kerchief, public and popular magnificence to the close limits of a cham- 
ber, whither sicknciSs (like a great commander) hath confined him, the 
imperious tongue fainting and failing in the wonted tmies of ' Go, Come, Do,' 
ic, as the centurion spake, Matt, viii. 9 : the curious attire thrown , by Avith' 
* Sen. de Bcuef., lib. vii., cap. 2. t Seu. do Beat. Vit., lib. i., cap. 14. 



426 ENGLAND'S SICKNESS. [SeEMON XXIIl. 

neglect ! Alas ! now what is honour but a mere property, a pageant, which 
health like the day sets out, and the night of sickness takes in again ? 
* Sickness hides pride from a man,' svaith Elihu, Job xxxiii. 17. 

What inferior benefit shall we then match with health, that it may glory 
of equality, in comparison 1 This is precious and desirable, whether to 
body or soul. To the soul simply; to the body but secundum quid, in re- 
spect if it may not prejudice the health of the soul. For though corporal 
health be so good, that all other worldly good things are but troublesome 
without it ; yet it is often seen that the worse part draws away the better, 
and a vigorous, strong, able body without any difficulty makes a wanton and 
diseased soul. 

Bodily health is generally desired far more than endeavoured ; it being 
an action of that natural propenseness, engrafFed in all men, to their own 
good. Parents are provident to the bodies of their children, even those who 
set so slight a thought on their souls, shewing herein plainly that they 
brought forth their bodies, not their souls. Large and lavish is our in- 
dulgence at all parts to this frail tabernacle ; yea, so profuse, and not with- 
holding, that whiles we seek more health, we lose that we had. Qucerendo 
perdimus, we seek it in full dishes, and behold there we lose it ; for pro- 
hibent grandes patince. Would we know how to preserve health 1 I am 
no physician, nor will I wade further in this argument than divinity and 
reason leads me. Let us observe moderation, labour in our calling, abstin- 
ence. 

(L) Moderation. As the philosopher said that he never corrected himself 
with repentance for his silence, but often for his speech ; so our forbearing of 
junkets should not grieve us, but our immoderate devouring of them. Rcec 
est Sana et salubris forma vita;, ut corpori tantum indidgeas, quantum honm 
valetudini satis est^"'- — This is a wholesome form of living, that the body be 
so far pleased as the health be not displeased. It is certain that surfeit kills 
more than famine. It was one of Hippocrates's aphorisms, ' All immodera- 
tions are enemies to health.' It was one of Plato's monsters of nature, that 
he found in Sicilia a man eathig twice a day : a thing of so little admira- 
tion with us, that it is wonderful in him that doth not. Perhaps a breakfast 
goes before, and a banquet follows after both these. Neither is the variety 
less than the quantity. We plead, Nature bids us eat and drink : it is 
granted. Yea, a solemn festival invites us to more liberal feeding : it is not 
much denied, if rare, if seasonable for thy appetite, if reasonable for the mea- 
sure. But many content not themselves only to steal the halter, except 
there be a horse at the end of it, as the shriven thief said in his confession 
to the priest, — only to feed and drink to pleasure, but to sleep, to surfeit, to 
ebriety, disabling themselves to any sober exercise. Turpe est stomachum 
non nosse 7nodum, — It is vile, and worse than bestial, when the stomach 
knows no measure. 

Seneca's rule is good, Dandum ventri quod dehes, non quod jtotes, — Allow 
the belly what thou shouldest, not what thou mayest. I shame not to con- 
vince this error, even from the example of heathens ; that if religion cannot 
rule us as Christians, yet nature may correct us as men. Whiles others, 
saith Socrates, vivunt tit edant, ego edam nt vivam, live to eat, I will eat 
to live. It is perhaps easy to find some that abstain, but how few for con- 
science of God's precept ! The sick, the poor, the covetous, the full, all 
moderate, but to what purpose 1 The sick man for his health's sake, the 
poor man for his purse's sake, the covetous for miserableness, the fuU for the 
* Sen. Ep. 8, ad Lucil. 



j£R. VIII. 22.] enoland's sickness. 427 

loatliing of his stomacL But let us that are Christian.s moderate ourselves 
for conscience of God's commandment ; because gluttony is a work of dark- 
ness, and the night is now past, Rom. xiii. 12, 13. So shall we at once 
provide well for our bodies, and better for our souls. 

(2.) Labour in our callings is no small furtherance of our healths. The 
bread of him that laboureth, as Solomon says of his sleep, is sweet and relLsh- 
able, ' whether he eat little or much,' Eccles. v. 12. Therefore ' drink waters 
out of thine own cistern,' Prov. v. 15 : live of thine own labours; tlie bread 
thou hast earned shall never be gravel in thy throat. ' He that tilleth his 
land shall be satisfied with bread,' Trov. xii. 11 ; whereas others shall either 
' eat and not have enough,' Hag. i. G, or have enough and not eat. Hence 
surfeits light so frequently on the rich, and the gentle blood grows so quickly 
foul, because they thhik themselves bound to no labours, so long as they 
may live on their lands. It was the father s charge to his eldest son. Matt, 
xi. 28, ' Son, go and work to-day in my vineyard.' The privilege of primo- 
geniture must not exempt him from labour. He sends him to the vineyard, 
to dress it before he hath it ; he will keep it the better when he hath it. In- 
dustry in our vocation is not only a means in nature, but even by the ordi- 
nance and blessing of God, to the conservation of health. 

(3.) Abstinence. I mean more than moderation ; that which we call fast- 
ing : jejunium jpjunantis, a free and voluntary fast, when the body refrain- 
eth such refections as nature taketh pleasure in, and that only for health's 
sake. As the tree by a gentle shaking knits faster at the root, this mode- 
rate weakening begets strength. So that at once it may be a help to devo- 
tion, (for repentance comes not before God with a fuU belly, and meat between 
the teeth,) and a perservative to health ; physic to defend from the need of 
physic, a voluntary medicine to prevent a contingent trouble. — Thus of the 
body. 

The souVs sanity is not less precious, though more neglected. It was 
made in the image of the most high God ; which image consisted in lumine 
mentis, rectitudine cordis, affeduum moderatione^^ as some, — in the bright- 
ness of the mind. Tightness of the heart, and just governance of the affec- 
tions. Or, as others, it was lihertas arbitni, intelledus sapientice, et potentia 
obedienticp, — freedom of will, wisdom of understanding, kingdom or power of 
obedience ; for here to serve was to reign. Herein consisted the health. 
The privation of these perfect habits is not less than the sickness of it. 
This health thus lost, cannot be recovered but by him that was sick to the 
death for us ; neither is it hindered when he wUl bestow it. For grace is 
not refused of the hard heart, because it takes away the hardness of that 
heart it lights on, Christ madefies it with his water, and mollifies it with 
his blood, both which issued out of his side at one wound, and followed the 
murdering spear of a soldier, John xix. 34, to save them which fight under 
his standard. 

Thus from man's sickness ariseth his better health, and he now stands 
surer by his first fall Such is the greatness and goodness of God, such his 
power and mercy concurring, that it works health out of sickness, good out 
of evil. There is an infinite good, but not an infinite evil. For the good 
cannot by any means be diverted into evil, but the evil may be converted 
to good. By the cons])iracy of Jews, Gentiles, Judas, devils, against Christ, 
is our salvation wrought. From the horridcst and most unnatural treasons, 
God hath advanced his own glory, advantaged his children's safety. We labour 
of three diseases — birth, life, death ; all these are cured by those three answer- 
• Bern. 



428 England's sickness. [Seemon XXIII. 

able ill Christ : our unclean birth is sanctified by his, so pure from the least 
spot of sin ; our transgressing life is reformed by the virtue, informed by the 
example of his, so pure from the least spot of sin ; that tyrannising, wound- 
ing serpent, death, hath the sting pulled out by his death, 1 Cor. xv., that 
we may embrace him in our secured arms. The conqueror of us all is con- 
quered for us all, by him that foiled the giant in his own den, the grave. 
' Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus 
Christ. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?' ver. 
55, 57. This is our insultation and holy triumph; provided ever, that he be 
believed of us, that hath thus relieved us. Believe and fear not. A good 
conscience is never failed of a good confidence, of a good consequence. Hence 
ariseth the soul's sanity. 

What can endanger, endamage this health ? No losses to the estate, no 
crosses to the flesh. The spiritually sound man values all the fortunes of 
the world less than the freedom and health of the mind. He that wants 
this armour is wounded by every blow of atfiiction. Other security is but a 
shield of wax against a sword of power. They cannot choose but fear, even 
' where no fear is,' and testify their inward guilt and sickness by their pale 
and trembling looks. Tiviida nequitia dat testi7nonium condemnationis, et 
semper 2)i'cesiiniit scbvci, pertu7'hata conscientia, — Fearful wickedness gives 
testimony of its own damnation ; and the troubled conscience imposeth and 
presumes to itself terrible things. But the health of faith is health indeed ; 
yea, this health is life, a life angeUcal, a life evangelical, whether for obedi- 
ence or peace : ins[)ired, sealed, assured by the ' word of truth,' ' which is 
life to ail that find it, and health to all their flesh.' No fear shall invade 
him, no troubles involve him so that he cannot be extricated. For 'the 
fear of the Lord tendeth to life, and he that hath it shall not be visited 
with evil,' Prov. xix. 23. His innocence may speed in the world, as de- 
serts in a lottery — be rewarded with a blank. But he m whom he affies 
shall put the marrow of health into his bones, distil the sap of grace into 
his spirit. 

Low in the world, lowly in himself, is his estimation. Wlio sees not that 
the" clambering goats get upon rocks and promontory places, whiles the 
humble sheep feed in the bottoms and dejected valleys ? Only one day the 
sheep shall be advanced above the sun and stars, and set in heaven Avith 
Christ ; when the goats shall be cast down to the depth of depths. Kich 
Dives was well enough known to the world, yet nameless in the sacred re- 
cords. So we brand our sheep, let the goats go unmarked ; God sets his 
seal on his chosen, — Novit qui sui sunt, 2 Tim. ii. 19, — lets the wicked run 
without his cognisance. 

Thus different is the state of God's servants and the world's slaves. They 
think none sick but we : we know none sick but they. If equal crosses be- 
fall us both, our estate is soon descried. We diff"er as the camel and the 
camomile : the one is stunted, the other thrives by his burden. Aftiictions 
that so scatter them, and loosen the joints of their vain hopes, do more knit 
and consolidate our healths. As sound as they take themselves, it is as easy 
to prove as to reprove their diseases. Though I confess, in the days of their 
joviality, he hath great wisdom that can make them sensible of their sick- 
ness. Were Solon, nay, Solomon, alive to declare it, they see it not, they 
will not feel it. If the want of health were perceived, how amiable, admir- 
able would the benefit appear ! Gratior est sanltas reddita, quam retenta ; 
vix aliter quam penlendo cognoscimus, — Returning health is more wolcomo 
than if it had not been lost. We scarce know what health is but by the 



Jer. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 429 

want. Let others spend their times, wits, treasures, to jjrocure health to 
their bodies, which I embrace when it is offered, and would not lose by my 
own errors ; give me a sound and clear conscience, and let me not want this 
health, till I en^^ tlieir.s. 

2. Thus having inquired what health is, lea^'ing a while the consideration 
thereof as it is in itself, let us descend into it as respectively; casting an 
oblique eye on that which is diverse from it or adverse to it. This is a sig- 
nificant and delightful demonstration or commentary, which one contrary 
nature gives to another, when they are diametrally opposed. The day 
would not seem so clear if the departing sun should not leave night to fol- 
low it. The foil adds grace to the jewel. It no less than glorifies learning, 
that the malicious tongue of ignorance barks at it. He knows the benefit 
of heat that hath felt the sharpness of a freezing cold. If there were no 
sickness to trouble us, health itself would be thought sickness. The very 
enmity of these repugnances helps the beholder's judgment either to embrace 
or reject them. Even their opposition is an exposition of their natures ; 
deformity, darkness, sickness, sin, all those privative, corruptive, destruc- 
tive things, may illustrate their contraries. So that if any lewd, vain, ill- 
judging, worse-affecting mind shall still love the desolation of sin rather than 
the consolation of spiritual health, it may appear to be, not because this 
object is not wretched, but because he is blincl and bewitched. 

There is a twofold sickness incident to man — (1.) In sin ; (2.) For sin. 
The former of these is only spiritual ; the latter is not only corporal, but 
sometimes spiritual also : and of all tlie vials of God's wrath, holden to the 
mouth of miserable men by the hand of justice, it is the sorest, when sin 
shall be punished with sin, and the destitution of gi-ace shall permit a lapse 
to impenitency. 

(1.) The sickness in sin is double, according to the cause, which is a defect 
either of right believing or straight living ; a debility of confidence, a sterility 
of good works; lack of fiiith, wreck of charity. These effects, or rather 
defects, are produced by two errors in the soul's diet ; the one excessive, the 
other deficient : [1.] By fasting too much from Christ; [2.] By feeding too 
much on the world. In what we would affect, we are abstinent ; in what 
avoid, very indulgent. 

[1.] The first cause is, by forbearing that sacred meat, living and life-giving 
bread, which ' came down from heaven,' John vi., to translate thither those 
that eat it. This is the Son of the most high God, not disdaining to become 
the food of the affamished sons of men. ' Out of the strong came sweetness;' 
the mighty is become meat ; the lion of Judah yields honey such as never • 
came out of any earthly hive, Judg. xiv. 1 4. He is our invincible captain ; 
to him we supplicate, as distressed Nerva to Trajan : — 

' Telis Phoebe tuis lachiynias ulciscere nostras.' 

O Saviour ! defend and keep us. Yet he that is victor, a conqueror for u.s, 
is also vichis, food to us. But this is cihics non dentis, sed mentis, — meat for 
our faith, not for our teeth ; manducamus inttis, non foris, — we eat it in- 
wardly, not outwardly. Christ is verily panis veinis, non jMntis merits, — 
true, not mere natural bread. Thus our feeder is become our food, our phy- 
sician our medicine. He doth all things for us — guide, feed, mediate, medi- 
cate ; let us meditate on him, and not di.sappoint the intention of his mercies 
by our averscness. No hoi)e but in him, no help but in him. The law 
could not satisfy our hunger, (not through its own, liut our insunicivncy ;) 
the gospel gives not only present .satisfaction, but even impossibility of future 



430 England's sickness. [Sermon XXIII. 

famine, John vi. 35. There is no abiding the law, except the gospel be by; 
not of that thunder, without this rain of mercy to quench it. 

Who gives this food to us but he that gave himself for us ? That shep- 
herd that feeds his lambs, not on his grounds, but with his wounds — his 
broken flesh and sluiced blood. Hence from this great parliament of peace 
(made in that once-acted, and for ever virtual sacrifice) derive we pardon for 
our sins, without impeachment to the justice of so high a judge as we had 
offended. Thus the King of eternal glory, to the world's eye destating him- 
self, (though indeed not by putting off" what he had, but by putting on what 
he had not,) was cast down for us, that we might rise up by him. ' Learn 
of me to be humble,' Matt. xi. 29 ; wherein he gives us a precept and a pat- 
tern ; the one requiring our obedience, the other our conformity. The })eli- 
can, rather than her young ones shall famish, feeds them with her own blood. 
Christ, for the better incorporating of his to himself, feeds them with his 
own flesh, but spiritually. So that we eat not only panem Domini, as the 
wicked, but panem Dominum, — not only the bread of the Lord, but the bread 
the Lord, in a sacramental truth. 

They that have ransacked the riches of nature, searched earth, sea, air, for 
beasts, fishes, birds, and bought the rarest at an inestimable price, never tasted 
such a junket. The fluid, transient, passing, perishing meats of earth neither 
preserve us, nor we them, from corruption. This banquet of his flesh, richer 
than that Belshazzar made to his thousand princes, Dan. v. 1 ; this cup of 
his blood, more precious than Cleopatra's draught, shall give vitam sine 
morte, life without death, to them that receive it. We perceive a little the 
virtue of this meat. 

Now then, as the withdrawing of competent meat and drink from the 
body lesseneth that radical moisture, (which is the oil whereon the lamp of 
life feeds,) and makes way for dryness, whence the kindly heat, (which, like 
other fire, might be a good servant, must needs be an ill master,) getting 
more than due and wonted strength, for want of resistance, tyranniseth ; and 
not finding whereupon to work, turns on that substantial vividity, exsiccating 
and consuming it; this oversparing abstinence wastes, weakens, sickens the 
body, dangers it to a hectic or some worse disease, of no less hurt than too 
great repletion : so when the soul, either through a mad frenzy of wicked- 
ness, or duU melancholy darkness of ignorance, or sensual perverseness of 
affections, forbears, forbids herself, to feed on that sacred and vital substance, 
Jesus Christ ; the vivid sap of grace and virtue, which keeps true life and 
soul together^ stilled into the heart by the Holy Ghost, begins to dry up, as 
a morning dew shrinking at the thirsty beams of the risen sun, Hos. vi. 4, 
and the fire of sin gets the predominance. Now where that unruly element 
' reigns in a mortal body,' Eom. vi. 12, it hazards the immortal soul to death. 
There is then no marvel if the soul descends into the fall of sickness, into 
the valley of death, when she shall refuse the sustentation, health, and very 
life thereof, her Saviour; who is not only cibus, but ipsa saliis, meat, but 
health itself, as Paul calls him ipsam vitam, qua vivimus, qiiam vivimus, — the 
very life whereby we live, which we live. We live in Christ, Acts xvii. 18; 
we live by Christ, nay, we live Christ, for our very life is Christ. ' Now 
live not I, but Christ livcth in me,' Gal. ii. 20. 

This is he that once ' suflered for our sins, the just for the unjust, that he 
might bring us to God,' 1 Pet. iii. 18. He ' suffered for our sins,' the cause 
mo.st odious; 'the ju.st for the unjust,' the persons most unequal; 'that he 
might bring us to God,' the end most absolute. How Avell, then, may we 
yield — and if there be any pride or glory ui us, it should be in our suftcrings 



j£E. VIII. 22.] ENGLAND'S SICKNESS. 431 

— to ' suflfer for him !' The apostles did so rejoicing, Acts v. 41. Jesus, 
si adeo dulce est Jlere pro te, quam ditlce eint gaudere de te i — O Christ, if it 
be so happy to sufl'er for thoe, what will it be to rejoice in tliee ? It cost 
him much — oh, how much ! — trouble, sorrow, beating, grinding, before he be- 
came bread for us. There may be a scarcity of other bread ; there is none 
of this, to those that rightly seek it. It is dear in regard of the precious- 
ness, — they that have it will not part witlj it; not dear in regard of the 
price, — we pay nothing for it but faith and love. Tliough thousands pray 
at once with the disciples, ' Lord, evermore give us this bread,' John vi. 34, 
Jesus's storehouse can never be emptied. Joseph's may : ' Lest the world 
perish through famine,' Gen. xli. 3G. He only nee accipiendo liroficit, nee 
dando deficit, — grows not rich with receiving, neither grows poor with giving. 
Rejoice then, beloved, in dono, in Domino, — the Lord is the giver, the Lord 
is the gift. Let not your souls be starved with these inferior things, which 
are pauca, parva, ■prava, — few in number, small in measure, bad in nature, 
' whiles there is bread enough in your Father's house,' Luke xv. 1 7. Why 
should we sicken our spirits in a voluntary want, and fa.st from that which 
is able to feast a world of faithful guests ? — This is the first degree of our 
spiritual sickness. 

[2.] The excessive occasion to procure ill health to our souls is by feeding 
too heartily, too hastily, on the world. This is that too much oil which 
qucncheth our lamp. For as in a body overcharged with immoderate quantity 
of meats or drinks, when the moisture swells, like a tide above the verges, 
and extinguisheth the digestive heat, that their kindly embraces are turned 
to conflicts, and the superfluities want their former dissolution and egestion, 
the necessary event is distemperature and sickness; so the affections of the 
soul, overladen with the devoured burden of worldly things, suffer the benign 
and living fire of grace to be quenched, 1 Thess. v. 19. Hence the fainting 
spirits of virtue swoon and fall sick, and after some weak resistance, as a 
coal of iire in a great shower, yield the ^'ictory to the floods of sin, and are 
drowned. Neither are the affections only (wliicli they call the nether part 
of the soul, as if this dropsy were only in the feet) thus diseased ; but the 
sickness taketh the head of the soul, the understanding, and the heart of it, 
the conscience, that faith (which is religious reason) is impaii-ed, and the in- 
strument, the tongue, the organ of God's praise, is hindered. As we see in 
these corporal effects by drunken men, the feet are too light, and the head 
too heavy; the legs cannot stand, the tongue cannot speak : so both under- 
standing and affections are stifled in this deluge, inward faith and outward 
profession falling sick to the death. 

For how can it be otherwise, that the soul (of so high and celestial a 
creation) should thrive with the gross and homely diet of vanity ? Man is, 
saith the philosopher," cvy/ivr,i Qio^j, God's kinsman. And Paid, taking such 
a sense from the poet,t makes of a conceit of nature a sanctified truth : Tou 
yao y.ai yhog sV/xsc, — ' For we are also his offspring,' Acts xvii. 28. And 
Peter saith that (though not really, but in regard of renovation) ' we are 
partakers of the divine nature,' 2 Pet. i. 4. Why, then, contemn we not, with 
a holy disdain, the rude, crude, and unwholesome morsels of the workl — 
sensual pleasures ? If we considered aright the natures eitlier tuv T^efovruv 
or ruv 7-f£jjo/x£twv, of the things nourLshing or things nourished, we should 
strive ant non admittere, ant cito emittere, either not to h't in or soon to 
throw out such unsavoury repast. For the nourishment of the body, if it be 
alienum, it is venenum, — if strange and contrary to nature, it is as poison to 
* Plato. t Aratua. 



432 England's sickness. [Sekmon XXIII. 

him that eats it : quae nutriuntur, familiaHbxis et naturalibus rebus nutri- 
untur, contrariis corrumpuntur, — for creatures that live by nourishment, 
with natural and familiar things are nourished ; corrupted with their con- 
traries. Otherwise the food makes work for the physician, and his elder 
brother, death. 

Spiritual and celestial delicates, the diet of grace and sanctification, nour- 
ish and cherish the soul's health, and put the good blood of holiness into her 
veins, give her a fresh and cheerful look ; roses and lilies (the pride of nature 
in their colours) make not so beautiful a mixture : but the world-affected 
and sin-infected delights pale her cheeks, drink up her blood and sap of 
virtue, dim her intellectual eyes, lame her feet, the affections, craze her health, 
crjsh her strength, and, (which is most wonderful,) for morte carent animce, 
even kill her immortality. 

Now they are not simply the things of this world that thus sicken the 
soul, but our extravagant desires and corrupt usage of them ; for all these 
were made for man's delight and comfort in the second place, — yield them 
immediately for the Maker's glory, — and we offend not to serve our necessities 
in them; it is their abuse which brings this sickness. It is with nutritive 
things to the soul, in some sort, as with all meats to the body. They are of 
three kinds: contraria, naturalia, neutralia, — contrary, natural, indifferent. 
Contraries hurt, natural and kindly help, neutral or indiSerent either hurt or 
help as they are received. Food merely contrary to the soul is sin — this 
kills ; natural and proper to it is grace — this saves ; indifferent, or of a middle 
nature, are the inferior things of this world, house, lauds, riches, &c. — these 
either hinder or further our souls' health, as they are used or abused : they 
may be consolations, they may be desolations, ladders of ascent or stairs of 
descent, as our regenerate or degenerate minds shall embrace them. Now 
the reason why earthly things do neither strengthen our spirits nor lengthen 
our joys is double — they be transitory, and they be not satisfactory. 

First, They be transient. Meats of a washy and fluid nature, that slip 
through the stomach and tarry not for concoction, do no more feed a man's 
health than almost if he lived on air. They that have no other sustentation 
to- their souls but such light, slight, and empty food, except they live by 
miracle, cannot be, like David, ore rulicundo, nor, like Daniel, of a fresh hue 
and cheerful complexion ; I mean the constitution of their soul cannot thrive. 
The soul fed only with the frail, circumfluous, humid, cloudy vanities of this 
world, is so far from remaining sound and retaining health, that she i)ines, 
languisheth, dwihdleth aAvay, as a tree whose life-feeding sap is dried up. 
So perishable are all the things of this world ! ' Wilt thou set thine eyes 
upon that which is not 1 for riches certainly make themselves wings ; they 
fly away like an eagle toward heaven,' Prov. xxiii. 5. Not like a tame bird, 
that returns ; nor like a hawk, that vdll shew where she is by her bells ; but 
like an eagle, whose wings thou canst neither clip nor pinion. Aut dese- 
rvnt, aut deseruntur, — Either they forsake, or are forsaken. All their cei'- 
tainty is in their uncertainty, and they are only stable in this, that they 
cannot be stable. 

' lliches arc not for ever ; and doth the crown endure to every generation?' 
Prov. xxvii. 24. Hence they arc called ' riches of the world,' 1 John iii. 17, 
which is a bar in the arms of riches, to demonstrate their slippery hold ; for 
the world itself being transitory, they must needs savour of the soil, 1 Tim. 
vi. 17. Our judgments must of necessity be convinced to confess this, 
though our affections will not yield it. Wherefore tend all those writings of 
covenants, if these earthly things were not uncertain 1 What are those labels 



Jer. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 433 

and appendances but bands and ties to keep close to us mad and starting 
riches? We plead, it is for the mortality of men ; but we mean the morta- 
lity of riches. If, tlicn, these earthly things will boast of anything, let them 
boast, as Paul did, their frailties, 2 Cor. xi. 30. They are eitlier in 'jour- 
neying,' not got without labour ; or ventured on * the sea,' yea, together with 
goods, bodies, and souls too, to make such ill merchants full adventurers ; ' in 
perU. of robbers,' public and notorious thieves ; ' in peril of false brethren,' 
secret and tame thieves, lawyers, usurers, flatterers ; fire ' in the city,' free- 
booters ' in the wUtlerncss,' pirates on the sea : for ' weariness, paiufuluess, 
watchfulness,' A:c., who doubts the miserable partnership betwixt them and 
riches ? 

Could the world be thought thy ser^-ant, (which is indeed thy master, O 
worldling ! as Christ's maxim inferreth, ' No man can serve two masters ; ' 
none indeed, for he that hath God for his obeyed master, hath for his obey- 
ing servant tlic world,) yet is it but a vagrant and runagate servant. It 
hath a madding mind and a gadding foot. And though by the greatness of 
the stature and pro^jortion, it may promise able service, yet it will be gone 
when, thou hast most need of it. Neither will it slip aw\ay empty, but rob 
thee of thy best jewels; carry away thy peace, content, joy, happiness, soul, 
with it. Behold the cosmopolite, Luke xii. 17, planting, transplanting, re- 
building, studying for room to lay up his fruits. Non in viscerihus pau- 
peruyn, — Not in the bowels of the poor, but in the enlarged barns, if ever 
their capacity coidd answer liis enlarged heart. He builds neither church 
nor hospital, — either in cidhim Christi, or ctdticram Christiani, to the ser- 
vice of Christ or comfort of any Christian, — but barns. He minds oidy 
horreum suicm, et hordeum suum, — his barn and his barley. Behold, at last 
he promiseth his soul peace, ease, mirth, security ; but when his chickens 
were scarce hatched, Avhereon he long sat, and thought to sit long brooding, 
he hears a fatal voice confiscating his goods and himself too : ver. 20, ' Thou 
fool, this night shall thy soul be required of thee : then whose shall those 
things be which thou hast provided ? ' No marvel, then, if the soul be fam- 
ished, when she is only fed with such fugitive meat, which vanisheth like 
Tantalus's apples or Ixion's cloud in the poet ; and like medicines rather 
than food, or like poisons rather than medicines, wash away the good they 
find, and leave the bad, made yet worse by their accession, behind them. 

Secondbj, They be not satisfactory, and therefore confer no true content to 
the mind, no more than the dreamed bread of the sluggard, !Mic. vi. 14, who 
' wakes with an empty stomach.' Thou shalt eat, but not be satisfied : ' All 
things are full of labour ; man cannot utter it : the eye is not satisfied with 
seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing,' Eccles. i. 8. There is nothing but 
emptiness, vanity, vacuity in them. Simul oriuniur et moriuntur, — They 
at once are born and die, as Plutarch said of the lightning, as Jonah found 
in his gourd. Like the mermaid^ 

' Virgo formosa puperne, 
Desinit in turpem piscem malesuada volnptas;' — 

* Face-flattering pleasure, that so much deludes. 
Like that sea-monster, with sad ruth concludes.' 

The motion of the mind, following these wandering planets of earthly de- 
lights, is ever errant, ever incessant. iVhab is sick of his neighbour's field, 
though he have a whole kingdom to walk in ; and Alexander, finding himself 
lord of the whole world, is discontent, as if he wanted elbow-room. The 
poor man is not more perplexed because he hath neither barn nor grain, than 
VOL. I. 2 K 



434 ENGLAND'S SICKNESS. [SeRMON XXIli. 

the covetous wretcli because he hath not bams enough for his graiii, Luke 
xii. 17. What cosmopolite ever grasped so much wealth in his gripulous 
fist as to sing to himself a Sufficlt ? ' He that loveth silver shall not be satis- 
fied with silver; nor he that loveth abundance with increase,' Eccles. v. 10. 
His cares fill up as fast as his coffers. He hath much in his keeping, yet 
doth neither enjoy it nor joy in it. 

It breeds a disease in the soul, like that in the body which they call 
caninwn aiypetitmn, an immoderate desire of meat ; whereafter the body 
looks thin, wan, sickly, as if it were starved. The cold, feculent, \iscous, 
vicious humours of covetousncss desire an unreasonable quantity of worldly 
goods, yet leave the soul more weak, warish, sickly than if she neither had, 
nor had will to do, anything. This is the infallible effect of these coveted 
vanities ; vel sequendo labimur, vel assequendo kedimur, — the soul either falls 
in the seeking, or fails in the finding. She is not the better, nay, she is the 
worse, for her longing after them. 

' Luxuriant animi rebus plerunque secundis,' — * 

The mind may riot and grow rank for a while with these puffings up, but 
how soon doth a tabe and consumption take it down, when the joy answers 
not the expectation of the heart ! The world may set such a man in high 
estimation : ' The rich hath many friends ; but the poor is separated from 
his neighbour,' Pro v. xix. 4. 

' Aspicis ut veniant ad Candida tecta columbse, 
Accipiet nuUas sordida turris aves.' 

But all this while others are more satisfied with the sight than he with the 
possession of his own. Still his soul is hungry, and he knows not how to 
appease it. 

I persuade not all abjuration of the world, as if it could not be used but 
it must be abused. As the philosopher of old, that threw his money into the 
sea, purposing to drown that, lest that should drown him ; or as the new 
found and fond votaries that profess a voluntary want, as if all coin were 
diseased, and had for the circumscription a N'oli me tangere : so the empiric, 
to cure the fever, destroys the patient; so the wise man, to burn the 
mice, set on fire his barn. Is there no remedy, but a man must make his 
medicine his sickness ? I speak of things as they are, not as they should 
be. He that feeds too hungrily on the world, falls with much ease to 
neglect Christ : as he that was once following him no sooner heard of his 
father s death, but presently left him ; thinking perhaps that he should get 
more by his father's executorship than by his 'Saviour's discipleship ; and 
therefore would leave to minister in Christ's service, that he might admini- 
ster on his father's goods. Hence fall many souls into this spiritual sickness, 
when they forsake the solid and substantial nutriment of Jesus Christ, to 
gape for the fugitive and empty air of worldly riches : which, if they do 
carry to their deaths, yet they must then leave all, exuendo, expuendo, donee 
nihil vel inhts vel /oris manserit,—hy putthig off, by spuing up whatsoever 
their covetousncss hath devoured. Nature shall turn them out naked and 
empty. Thus ' the righteous eateth to the satisfying of his soul ; but the 
belly of the wicked shall want,' Prov. xiii. 25. They are not satisfactory. 

In a word, that we may a little perpend the effects, as we have perceived 
the causes, all spiritual sickness is either in faith or conversation. 

First, In faith. This is a general and dangerous sickness. General: 
* Ovid. 



j£K. VIII. 22.] ENGLAND'S SICKNESS. 43.J 

jEgrotat fides jam prorima morli, — Faith is so sick, that it is ready to die. 
These are those hist and ajtostate times, wlierein faith is become so little, 
tlmt the scarcity gives expectation of the general doom. We swear away 
our faith at every trifle, and then no marvel, being so prodigal of such oaths, 
if our stock of faith be sworn and worn out. Dangerous : We ally the 
world, which we have vowed to defy ; and losing that confidence we should 
live by, — for 'the just lives by faith,' Heb. x. 38,— how can it be but the 
soul must become sick 1 Whiles ' the sliield of faith ' is lost, we lie naked 
to ' the fiery darts of Satan,' Eph. vi. 16 ; and many wounds will let out the 
life-blood. The sun in the heaven passe th through twelve signs of the 
zodiac. Christ is our sun, Mai. iv. 2, the twelve articles of our creed, the 
twelve signs ; faith is our /Axliac. Do you wonder why, in this day of the 
gospel, the sunbeams of grace live in so few hearts 1 They have lost their 
zodiac. Their faith is form, and the clouds of infidelity have eclipsed those 
signs. They believe not beyond the extension of sense ; they have a sensual, 
a senseless faith. It is the sorest shipwreck which the vast .sea of this world 
and the pirates of sin can put them to, the sinking of their faith. It was 
Paul's happy triumph that he had 'kept the faith,' 2 Tim. iv. 7, though 'he 
bare about in his body the marks of the Lord Jesus,' CJal. vi. 17. Needs 
must the soul be sick, whose faith is not sound. 

Secondly, The other degree of our sj)iritual sickness is in conversation. 
Our lives arc diseased : the ill beating of those pulses shew we are not well. 
The fruits manifest the tree, ^Matt. vii. 20. Ubi caro est repugnans, p>eccatum 
est prcegnam. — Sins are rife where the flesh reigns; plentiful effects will 
arise from such a working cause. In vain (and not without the more hazard) 
do we plead for our soundness, when the inf^xllible symptoms of our dis- 
obedience e^^nce the contrary. Saul stands upon his observation of God's 
charge. ' What then,' saith Samuel, ' meaneth the bleating of the sheep in 
mine ears, and the lowing of the oxen which I hear?' 1 Sam." xv. 14. 
Whence flow those streams of impiety, merciless oppressions, church-devour- 
ing sacrileges, bestial luxuries, cunning circumventions, detracting slanders, 
heaven-threatening blasphemies, malicious fires of rage and hatred, monstrous 
treacheries, behaviours compounded of scorn and pride, close atheism, open 
profancness, gilded hypocrisy ? Whence are these vicious corruption.s, if not 
from our ulcerous conversations? Shame we not to call sickness health, 
and to maintain the athei.stical paradox, pseudodox, 'which judgcth evil 
good, and darkness light?' I.sa. v. 20. If thy life be so unsound, suspect 
thyself; thou art not well. 

(2.) Now (not unfitly) after the sickness of sin, follows the sickness for 
sin ; which distributes itself into a double passion, corporal and spiritual : — 

[1.] All corporal sickness is for sin. The sick man heard it from his 
heavenly physician : 'Go thy ways ; sin no more, lest a worse thing come 
unto thee,' John V. 14. So sung David in the psalm: 'Fools becau.se of 
their iniquities arc afflicted ; their soul aljhorreth all manner of meat, and 
they draw near to the gates of death,' I's. cvii. 17, 18. This Elihu grounds 
against Job, that sin causeth sickness : ' So that his life abhorreth bread, 
and his soul dainty meat. His flesh is consumed away, that it cannot be 
seen; and his bones that were not seen stick out,' chap, xxxiii. 20, 21. 
Weakness proceedeth from wickedness ; if the soul had not sinned, the body 
should not have smarted. Indeed this blow is ea.sy, if we respect the cause 
that drew it on us. For if ' the wages of sin be death,' T<.<)n\. vi. 23, sick- 
ness is a gentle payment. Sickness is the malady of the body, death is the 
malady of sickness. But such is God's mercy, that he is content to punish 



436 England's sickness. [Sermon XXIII. 

.sometimes corjwraliter, non mortaliter ; and to put into our liearts a sense of 
our sins, by casting us down, and by casting us away. But whether the 
afliiction be quoad introittim, or quoad interitum, — a more gentle entrance, 
or more piercing to death, all is produced by our sin. 

You will say, that many afflictions, wherewith God scourgeth his children, 
are the ' fatherly corrections of love,' Heb. xii. G ; yet they are corrections, 
and their intention is to better us. Now, what need the bestowing such 
pains on us to make us good, if sin had not made us evil? Still sin is the 
cause, Avhether it be sickness, ' Therefore I will make thee sick in smiting 
thee, because of thy sins,' Micah vi. 13 ; or whether more despairful cala- 
mity, ' I will waU and howl, I will make a wailing like the dragons, mournings 
as the owls ; for her wound is incurable,' Micah i. 8, 9. Still the reason is, 
ver. 5, ' For the transgression of Jacob is all this, and for the sins of the house 
of Israel.' Oh that our sick bodies, when the hand of visitation hath cast them 
down, would convey this lesson to our souls — all is for our wickedness ! Our 
stomachs loathe meat because we have overburdened them with God's abused 
blessings. We have made the creatures, ordained for our comforts, ' an occa- 
sion of our falling,' Ps. Ixix. 22. And now, lo, we abhor to be cheered by 
those things wherewith we have erst oppressed ourselves : that ' delicates 
poured upon a mouth shut up, are as messes of meat set upon a grave,' 
Ecclus. xxs. 18. 

Our sins, that remain unpurged by repentance in our bosoms, are not only 
diseases themselves to our consciences, but vigorous and rigorous enough 
to engender diseases in our carcases. We are framed and composed of four 
elements — fire, air, water, earth; and have the kindly concurrence of those 
four original and principal qualities, heat and cold, moisture and dryness, to 
our making up. Their harmony and peaceful content preserve our little 
world in health ; but if those brethren of one house fall at variance with 
themselves, their strife will undo us. So easy is it for God to take rods 
from our own bodies wherewith to whip us ! Though those outward ele- 
ments, fire, water, and the rest, forbear to lay on us the strokes of vengeance, 
yet we have those primordial humours within us, whose redundance, defect, 
or distemperature are means able enough to take our breath from us. How 
evident is this, when — 

Some have been burned in the pestilent flames of their hot diseases ; the 
violence whereof hath set their blood on fire, wasted their bowels, scorched 
their veins, withered away their vital spirits, and left the whole hodyjlagran- 
tem ror/iim, as it were a burning pile. 

Some have been choked with the fumes and vapours ascending from their 
own crude and corrupted stomachs, and poisoned their spirits no less than 
with the contagion of infected airs. How many obstructed lungs suck in far 
better air than they breathe out ! 

Others have been drowned with a deluge of waters in their own bodies, a 
flood running betwixt their skin and bowels, glutting and overcharging 
nature so violently, that the life hath not been able to hold up her head ; 
and the S(ju1, like Noah's dove, returns unto God, the ' ark of her strength,' 
as not able to set her foot diy in her former habitation. 

And yet others have buried themselves alive in the grave of their own 
earthly melancholy ; which casteth such a thick fog and dark obscurity over 
the brain, that it not only chokes up the spirits of life, like the damp in a 
vault that extinguisheth the lights, but even otfers oflfonsive violence to the 
soul. Melancholy men are, as it were, buried before they be dead ; and, as 
not staying for a grave in the ground, make their own heavy, dull, chnuly, 



JeR. YIII. 22.] ENGLAND'S SICKNESS. 43/ 

cloddy earthen cogitations their own sepulchres. From what sink arise 
all these corrupt steams, but from the sins in our own selves, as proper 
and tit to engender these sicknes.ses as these sicknesses are to bring dis- 
solution ! It is our own work to make ' death better than a bitter life, or 
continual sickness,' Ecclus. xxx. 17; that our meat gives no more scent 
nor savour than an ' ofl'ering doth to an idol,' ver. 19. 'He that sinneth 
before his ^lakcr, let him fall into the hands of the physician,' Ecclus. 
xxxviii. 1.5. 

[2.] Spiritual sickness for sin is yet far more perilous and mortal ; nay, 
well were it for some thus sick if it were mortal. If the disease would de- 
cease, the soul might revive and live. It varies (as some diseases do in the 
body, according to the constitution of the sick) thereafter as the soul is that 
hath it ; whether regenerate or reprobate. The malignancy is great in both, 
but with far less danger in the former. 

First, In the elect, this spiritual sickness is an afflicted conscience, when 
God will suffer us to take a deep sense of our sins, and bring us to the life 
of grace through the valley of death, as it were by hell-gates unto heaven. 
There is no anguish to that in the conscience : ' K. wounded s[>irit who can 
bear?' Prov. xviii. 14. They that have been valiant in bearing wrong.s, in 
forbearing delights, have yet had womanLsh and coward spirits in sustaining 
the terrors of a tumultuous conscience. If our strength were as an army, 
and our lands not limited save with east and west; if our meat were manna, 
and our garments as the ephod of Aaron ; yet the afflicted conscience would 
refuse to be cheered with all these comforts. "When God shall rai.se up our 
sin.s, like dust and smoke in the eyes of our souls, and the ' arrows of his 
displeasure drink up our blood/ Job vi. 4, and ' his terrors ' seem to ' fight 
against us ; ' when he buffets us from his presence, and either hides his 
countenance from us, or beholds us with an angry look; lo, then, if any sick- 
ness be like this sickness, any calamity like the fainting soul ! Many offences 
touch the body which extend not to the soul ; but if the soul be grieved, the 
sympathising flesh suffers deeply with it. The blood is dried up, the marrow 
wasted, the flesh pined, as if the powers and pores of the body opened them- 
selves like so many windows to discover the passions of the distressed pri- 
soner within. It was not the sense of outward sufferings, (for mere men 
have borne the agonies of death undaunted,) but the wrestling of God's 
wrath with his spirit, that drew from Christ that complaint, able to make 
heaven and earth stand aghast : ' My soul is heavy unto the death,' Matt, 
xxvi. 38. 

There is comfort even in death, when the clock of our life runs upon her 
last minutes ; but is there any ease during the torments of a racked con- 
science ? This wearisome guest doth God often lodge with his own children, 
suffering the eye of faith to be shut, and the eyes of flesh and blood open ; 
that sorrow is their bread, and tears their drink, and the still perplexed 
mind knows not where to refuge itself : always preserving to his children 
that never-dying grace of his Spirit in their hearts; ' a substance of blessing 
in the oak,' Isa. vi. 13, though it hath cast the leaves, though the barrenness 
of the boughs, dryness of the bark, give it for dead and withered. Faith 
being in a swoon, may draw the breath inwardly, not perceived ; but ' de- 
stroy it not, for there is a blessing in it,' Isa. Ixv. 8. 

Neither is this sickness and trouble of conscience properly good in itself, 
nor any grace of God, but used by God as an instrument of good to his, a.s 
when by the ' .<^pirit of bondage ' he brings us to adoption. So the needle 
tliat draws the thread through the cloth is some means to join it together. 



438 England's sickness. [Sermon XXIII. 

This is the gudly soul's sickness for sin, full of sharp and bitter ingredients, 
but never destitute of a glorious event and victorious triumph. 1 may say 
of it as physicians speak of agues, (which make a man sick for a while, that 
he may be the sounder a long time after,) This sickness is physic to procure 
better health. 

Secondly, Spiritual sickness for sin in the reprobate hath other effects. 
To restrain their number, they principally appear in two diseases, or disasters 
rather — impenitency and despair. 

First, Impenitency, the symptom of an obdurate and remorseless heart. 
' Who being past feeling, have given themselves over unto iasciviousness, 
to work all uncleanness with greediness,' Eph. iv. 19. St Paul calls it ' a 
reprobate mind,' Eom. i. 28 : a death rather than a sickness. He that 
labours hereof is rather deceased than diseased. This is a heart so hard 
and impenetrable, that all the holy dews of instructions cannot soften it ; all 
the blows of God's striking rod put no sense into it. It is invulnerable to 
any stroke save that which makes a fatal and final end with it. ' Thou hast 
stricken them, but they have not grieved/ &c., Jer. v. 3. It is just with. 
God, but fearful on whomsoever this judgment lights, to plague sin with sin, 
that peccatum sit poena peccantis. For there is evermore some precedent 
impiety in those ungracious persons, procuring God to deal thus with them. 
' For this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe 
a lie : that they all might be damned that believe not the truth, but had 
pleasure in unrighteousness,' 2 Thess. ii. 11, 12. First Pharaoh hardens 
his own heart, &c. God all this while holds his peace, gives him the hear- 
ing and looking on. In the end he saith, ' I wiU harden Pharaoh's heart ; ' 
and then puts iron to iron, adamant to adamant, and there is ijcrfected a 
relentless, repcntless obduracy. 

This is that retaliation of sin, which God returns into their bosoms that 
foster it ; that since ' they loved cursing, it shall be unto them,' Ps. cix. 1 7. 
So David in the psalm, (though indeed it was not in him j^t'ecantis votum, but 
pi'opltetantis vaticinium, — he did not desire it to be so, but he knew it would 
be so,) ' Add iniquity to their iniquity,' Ps. Ixix. 27. Neither doth God this 
by iiifusion of wickedness, but by subtraction of his Spirit. He is causa 
deficiens, non efficiens : as the revoking of sun from us causeth darkness ; the 
privation of grace, the position of all ungodliness. It is in him not peccatum, 
sed judicum, — not sin, but judgment. When he leaves us to ourselves, it is 
no wonder if we fall into horrid and prodigious sins. Peccatum est malum 
in se: effectum prioris mali, et causa subseqneiitis : est et suppliciinn, et causa 
supplicii; — Sin is evil in itself, the effect of former evil, the cause of future : 
it is both punishment itself, and the cause of punishment. In all the store- 
house of God's plagues there is not a greater vengeance. With other punish- 
ments the body smarteth ; the soul groaneth imder this. Hence sins multi- 
ply without limits, that the plagues may be without end. Every afiiiction 
is sore that offends us ; but that is direful which withal offends God. Such 
do at once act and sulTcr : it is both an active and a passive sin. The 
punishment they suffer is (in them) sin ; the sin they do is (from God) a 
punishment. 

There is nothing more WTctched than a wretched man not recking his own 
wretchedness. ^liserius nihil est viisero se non miseiunte. Either they do 
not feel, as blocks, or they will not feel, as Stoics. You know, a seared 
conscience is not sensible ; and usual whipping makes some careless of the 
rod, except it be a stroke that shall fetch blood of the soul. Indeed we are 
all of one mould, but some are more cloddy and hard, others more soft and re- 



Jer. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 431) 

lenting. The best in their sorroAvs may be more than conquerors, not more 
tlian men. And lot the Stoic brag his tetrical conclusions to the world, 
that no pain can brhig sorrow to a wise man, etc. Let him, being put into 
that torturous engine of burning bra.ss called the horse, bite in hLs anguish, 
smother his groans, sigh inwardly, and cry to the spectators, S'on sentio, I 
feel not. The wicked may laugh out lighter punishments ; and like the dead 
rocks of the sea, not regard the waves of easier judgments beating on them, 
letting fall no tears of repentance for so many blows. But when God sees 
that thou digestest his physic as diet, and, with a strange kind of indulgenci', 
wUt neither grieve that thou hast offended nor that thou art offended, he will 
strike home, and sharpen at once both his blow and thy sense. Now thou 
shalt feel ; even thy se*red heart shall bleed. In a word, the wicked may 
be senseless Stoics, they canuot be hisensible stones. There is in all men an 
impossibility of impassibility. 

But these remorseless wretches, so spiritually sick, not of the stone in the 
reins, but in the heart, at least regard not to offend God, whiles God forbears 
to offend them. '.They speak loftily; they set their mouth against the 
heavens,' Ps. Ixxiii. 9. The reason is, ' They are not in trouble, nor plagued 
as other men,' ver. 5. At first they liberally sin and spare not. God lets 
them alone : lo, now they sin and care not. Impiety, impunity, impenitency, 
thus swiftly follow one at the heels of another. There are some sick of this 
disease, but not so far gone ; of whose recovery there is a little, and but a 
little, more hope. These have, by the chidings of their accusing conscience, 
a notion, a relish, a guess of the number and nature of their own sins, which 
because they suspect to be monstrous, they would by no means admit a sight 
of. Hence they fly the temple, the society of the good, the voice of exhor- 
tation, whencesoever it soundeth, lest it should call the soul's eye home, to 
glance at its own estate, and so leave it amazed. Hence he hath animum 
inscium, inscitum, an ill-sighted mind. 

So timorous is this patient, that because he knows his wound deep, he 
will not suffer the chirurgeon to search it ; willing rather to kill his soul 
than to disquiet it. Such is the folly of his partial indulgence to his con- 
science, that whiles he would foster it, he doth fester it. They write of the 
elephant, that, as if guilty of his own deformity, and therefore not abiding 
to view his snout in a clear spring, he seeks about for troubled and muddy 
waters to drink in. This sick wretch, without question induced by the like 
reason, refuseth to look into the glass of the law, or to come to the clear 
springs of the go.spel, or any perspective that may represent his evil conscience 
to his eyes, but seeks to muddy and polluted chamiels, — taverns, theatres, 
societies of sin, — to dro\TO the thought of former iniquities with floods of 
new. And if he be enforced to any such reflection, he spurns and tramples 
that admonition, as apes break the glass that represents their deformity. He 
runs liimself prodigally into so deep arrearages and debts, that he cannot 
endure to hear of a reckoning. Whiles he despairs of sufficiency to pay 
the old, he recks not into what new and desperate courses he precipitates 
himself. And as it was in the fable with the blind woman and the physi- 
cian : the physician coming often to her house, ever carried away a jiortion of 
her best goods ; so that at la.st recovered, by that time her sight was come 
again, her goods were gone : so this wretch will not see the rausackijig of lus 
soul, and spoil of his graces, till his conscience bo left empty, and then he 
sees, and cries too late, as Esau for his blessing. 

Secondly, That other spiritual sickness for sin, befalling a reprobate soul, 
is final and total desperation. Tliis is that fearful consequent which treads 



440 England's sickness. [Sermon XXIII. 

upon the heels of the former sickness. Presumption goes before, despair 
follows after. Cain's fratricide, Judas's teachery, presumptuous, aspiring, 
heaven-dimng sins, find this desperate catastrophe, to cut themselves off" from 
the mercy of God. This is insanabilis jjlaga, when the physician promising 
help of the disease, the patient shall thrust his nails into it, and cry, ' Nay, 
it shall not be healed.' As if the goodness of God, and the value of Christ's 
all-sufficient ransom, were below his iniquity. As if the pardon of his sins 
would empty God's storehouse of compassion, and leave his stock of mercy 
poor. This is that agony, whose throbs and throes, restless, turbulent, im- 
placable cogitations, cannot be quieted. Let rivers of those waters of com- 
fort which ' glad the city of God ' run with full streams unto it, they are 
resisted and driven back. 

This is that sin which not only off'ers injury and indignity to the Lord of 
heaven and earth, but even breaks that league of kindness which we owe 
to our own fl«sh. To commit sin is the killing of the soul ; to refuse hope 
of mercy, is to cast it down into hell. Therefore St Jerome affirms that 
Judas sinned more in despairing of his Master's pardon than in betraying 
him ; since nothing can be more derogatory to the goodness of God, which 
lie hath granted by promise and oath — two immutable witnesses — to peni- 
tent sinners, than to credit the father of lies before him. Januas ceternce 
felicitatis spes aperit, desperatio claudit, — Hope opens the door of heaven, 
desperation shuts it. As faith is heaven before heaven, so despair is damna- 
tion before the time. 

Shall the blood and death of Christ put sense into rocks and stones, and 
shall man tread it under his desperate feet, enervate his cross, amiihilate his 
ransom, and die past hoj^e ? Did he raise three dead men to life, — one newly 
departing, another on the bier, a third smelling in the grave, — to mani- 
fest that no degree of death is so desperate that it is past his recovery ; and 
shall these men, as if 'twice dead, and pulled up by the roots,' Jude, vcr. 
12, deny to the grace and glory of God a possibility of their reviving? Mn 
yhoiro, — God (and the unfeigned repentance of their own hearts) forbid it ! 

3. Thus we have heard the malignancy of spiritual sicknesses, whether 
in sin or for sin. Now let us take a short consideration how far spiritual 
sicknesses are more dangerous than corporal. 

The soul is at all parts more precious than the body. It is that principal, 
most divine, and excellent half of man. Dum vivijicat, anima ; duni vuU, 
animus; dum scit, mens ; dum recolit, memoria ; dum judicat, ratio ; dum 
spiral, spiritus ; dum sentit, sensus, — It is called for quickening, a soul ; for 
knowing, mind ; for remembering, memory ; for judging, reason ; for breath- 
ing, spirit ; for feeling, sense. When the soul is sick, all these are sick with 
it. The soul is compared to heaven, the body to earth. The heaven is 
glorious with sun, moon, stars ; so the soul with understanding, memor}^, 
reason, faith, hope, &c. The body, like the earth whereof it was made, is 
squalid witJx lusts. The earth hath no heat nor nourishment but from 
heaven, nor the body comfort but from the soul. How then 1 Oh, how 
terrible is the soul's sickness or death ! 

How indulgently should we tender the health thereof! We keep our 
chicken from the kite, our lamb from the wolf, our fawn from the hound, 
our doves from the vermin ; and shall we yield our darling to the lions, 
our soul to those murdering spirits which endeavour to devour it 1 The 
soul may be well when the body is full of griefs ; but ill goes it with the 
body when the soul is sick. Nay, even corporal diseases are often a means 
to procure spiritual soundness. Therefore one calls it oplabile malum, cum 



Jer. VIII 22.] England's SICKNESS. 441 

mali remedium sit maioris, — a happy e\-il, which is the remedy of a greater 
evil. We may say of many healthful bodies, tidius (pyrofasseiit, they might 
with less danger have been sick. Nusquam pejus quam in muo corpore, 
OEgev animus hahiiat* — A .sick mind dwells not rightly in a .sound body : 
but to find a healthful and .sound soul in a weak sickly body is no wonder; 
since the soul (before smothered with the clouds of health) is now suffered 
to see that through the breaches of her prison which former ignorance sus- 
pected not. 

Corporal sickness is a perpetual monitor to the conscience, every pang a 
reproof, and every stitch reads a lesson of mortality, ready ever to check for 
evil, or to in\ate to good ; which duly weighed, a man hath less reason to 
be over-fearful of sickness than over-glad of health. The si)iritual detriment 
that may ensue on health is more dangerous than the bodily pain that pur- 
sues sickness. If a man fear not death, what power hath sickness to make 
him misei-able? Tolerahilis est morhi prcesentia, si contempseris id quod ex- 
tremum minatur, — Sickness hath little terror in it, if thou shalt contemn 
that which it threateneth — death. If it teach thee by the sight of the first 
death instant, to prevent the fury of the second, behold it makes thee blessed. 
Such good use may the Avise soul make of the body's enemy. I have read 
it said, that sinffuhis morbus, parvula 7Hors, — every disease is a little death. 
Therefore God sends us many little deaths to instruct our preparation for 
the great death. The ofteuer a man dies, the better he may know to die 
well. 

I j-ield, if in sickness we contract and narrow up the powers of our souls, 
and direct them (as our finger) to the grief of our bodies only, forgetting 
eithci- that God strikes us, or that we have first stricken God, — either flying 
to ill means, or aflfying to good means more than to God, — our sickness may 
be deadly to body and soul too. Asa was sick but of his feet, 2 Chron. 
xvi. 22 : his feet stood far from his heart, yet because he relied more on 
his physicians than on his Maker, he died. Or if there shall be no less con- 
fusion and hurly-burly in the faculties of the soul than there is distempera- 
ture in the parts of the body ; when reason, which should be the queen, and 
dwell in the highest and choicest room, is deposed from her government ; 
when the .senses, which are court-guards and the princess's attendants, that 
give aU admission into the presence, arc corrupted ; when the supreme 
faculties, which are the peers, are revolted ; and the affections, which are the 
commons, perverted ; and all this insurrection and disturbance, dethroning 
the queen, corrupting the guard, drawing from fealty the peers, and the com- 
mons from allegiance, wrought by those violent passions which are refractory 
and headstrong rebels, having once gotten liead, — alas, how far is this 
miserable distemper and perturbation of these spiritual parts above the dis- 
tress or distraction of the corporal members ! Neither is the future peril 
hereof only more full of prodigious desolation, but even the present sense is 
also more tetrical, piercing, and amazing with horror. 

We shall find the perjjlexity of this spiritual sickne.«s, how far exceeding 
the corporal, if we either compare them generally, or particularly by instance 
in any special disease. 

First; generally. The excellency of health is measured according to the 
life which holds it, and the dignity of life is con,sidered by the cause that 
gives it. The life of the plant is ba.se3t, because it consists but in the juice 
which is administered by the earth to the root thereof, and thence derived 
and spread to the parts. The hfe of the brute creature excels, because it ia 
* Plutarch, 



443 England's sickness. [Sermon XXIIl. 

sensitive, and hath power of feeling. The life of nian is better than both, 
because it is reasonable, conceiving and judging of things by understanding. 
The life of a spiritual man is better than the former, and it hath two degrees : 
the life of inchoate regeneration, and it consists in grace ; and the perfect life 
of imputed righteousness, conferred and confirmed by Jesus Christ. The life 
of glory exceeds all, whereof there are also two degrees : the fruition of glory 
in soul; and the full possession in the union of the body to it. These two 
last sorts of life transcend the former in two main respects : because the 
other may die, must die ; these have a patent of eternity sealed them ; and 
because the other have transient causes ; these have the grace and glory of 
God. 

Now as by all consent the life of reasonable man is better than the vege- 
table of plants, or sensitive of beasts, so the health of man must needs be 
more precious ; and as that virtue excels in goodness, so doth the defect ex- 
ceed in miserableness. Respect man distinctively, as he is a body only ; and 
then to be sick and die are common to him with plants and beasts ; and 
what suffering is there in the one more than in the other, save that as the 
beast is more sensible of pain than the tree, so man is more apprehensive 
than the beast ? The bodies of all ' return to the earth ; ' but man hath a 
soul, wherein his reason is placed, which fainting or sickening through sin, or 
the punishment for sin, there is offered a passion and grief whereof the other 
are not capable. Death to the rest is not so terrible as this sickness. The 
goodlier the building is, the more lamentable the ruin. 

Secondly; particularly. This will best appear if we single out some 
special disease, and confer the perplexity it can offer to the body with the 
sickness of the soul. Take, for instance, the plague of the leprosy. It wa.s 
a fearful and unsupportable sickness, every way miserable, as you may 
find it described. Lev. xiii. 45, 4G : * His clothes shall be rent, and his 
head bare, and he shall put a covering upon his upper lip, and shall cry. 
Unclean, unclean. He shall dwell alone ; without the camp shall liis habita- 
tion be.' 

(1.) The leprosy infected their very garments and houses, sticking con- 
tagion in the very wool and walls. But our leprosy of sin hath (with a more 
vast extension) infected the elements, air, earth, beasts, plants, &c., sticking 
scars on the brow of nature, and making the whole ' creature groan ' under 
the burden of corruption, Rom. viii. 22. 

(2.) The leprosy was violent in spreading, running eftsoons over all the 
body, as in Gehazi, and making it all as an ulcer ; yet could it not penetrate 
and enter the soul ; the mind might be clean in this general defiling of the 
carcase. Behold, the leprosy of sin hath not content itself to insult, pollute, 
and tyrannise over the body, but it defiles the soul also, and turns that purer 
part of man into a lazar. ' Our righteousness is become filthy rags,' Isa. 
xlvi. 6; our heart is poisoned, ' our consciences defiled,' Titus i. 15. 

(3.) The leprosy was an accidental disease, casual to some, whiles other 
escaped it. it was God's pursuivant to single out and arrest some for their 
sin, his mercy sparing the rest. But the leprosy of sin is hcereditanus mor- 
bus, — an hereditary sickness. We derive it from our great sire Adam, with 
more infallible conveyance than ever son inherited his fiither's lands. It is 
original to us, born with us, born before us. So that natalis would be 
fatalis, the birth-day would be the death-day, if the blood of that immacu- 
late Lamb should not cleanse us. 

(4.) The leprosy was a dangerous disease, yet curable by natural means ; 
but ours is by so much the worse, as it admits not man as physician, nor 



Jer. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 443 

nature itself as physic, sufficient to cure it. The medicine is supernatural ; 
the ' blood and water ' of that man who is God. Faith must lay hold on 
mercy ; mercy alone can heal us. 

(5.) The leprosy is a sore disease, so entering and eating that it is even 
incorporate to the flesh ; yet still cum came ed-uitur, — it is put off with tho 
flesh. Death is a physician able to cure it. Mors una interimit et leprosum 
et lepram, — Death (the best empiric) kills at once the leper and tho leprosy. 
But the leprosy of sin cleaves so fast, not only to the flesh, but to the soul, 
Heb. xiL 1, that if spiritual death to sin do not slay it, corporal death shall 
neither mend it nor end it. It shall not fly from the soul -when the soul doth 
fly from the body, but Jis it accompanies the one to the judgment-seat of 
God, so it shall meet the other in heU, if they both cannot be rid of it, 
through Christ, on earth. 

(6.) The leprosy makes man loathsome to man, that seorsim hahitaturus 
sit, — he must dwell alone. So was the law : Lev. xiii. 4G, ' He is unclean : 
he shall dwell ah)ne ; without the camp shall his habitation be.' Yea, 
though he were a king, he must content himself with an un\'isitod and re- 
moved lodging, 2 Kings xv. 5 ; yet what is it to be secluded from man's, 
and not to be destitute of the Lord's company ? God forsakes not the ' clean 
heart,' Ps. Ixxiii 1, though man abhors the leprous flesh. God alone is a 
thousand companions ; God alone is a world of friends. He never knew 
what it was to be familiar with heaven that complains the lack of friends 
whiles God is with him. Were thy chamber a prison, thy prison a dungeon, 
yet what walls can keep out that infinite Spirit \ Even there the good soul 
finds the sun of heaven to enlighten his darkness, in comparison of whom all 
the stars in the sky are the snutf of a dim candle. Every cloud darkens our 
sun ; nothing can eclipse that. But the leprosy of sin separates a soul from 
God's fellowship, from the company of angels. 1 John i. G, ' We Lie if 
we say we have fellowship with him, and Avalk in darkness.' ' Your sms 
have separated betwixt me and you, saith the Lord of hosts.' They un- 
house our hearts of God's Spirit, and expel him from the temple of our 
souls, who will no longer stay there when the Dagon of sin is advanced, 
adored. It is customable with men to eschew the society of their poor, 
maimed, afflicted, diseased brethren, and to shew some disdain by their 
averseness ; but to keep company with drunkards, adulterers, swearers, 
usurers, ifec. — of Avhom alone we have a charge, de non tancfetulo, — they reck . 
not. ' Eat not with them ; turn away from them,' saith the Apostle, 1 Cor. 
v. 11, 2 Thu. ii. •'), from those so diseased in soul, not in body. But now 
melior est conditio viiii, quam morhi, — the estate of sin is better than of 
sickness. But God looks unto, and is with, Lazarus living, and takes him 
into his bosom dying, though he was full of sores ; and lets healthy, wealthy, 
flourishing Dives go by, unnamed, unaccepted. 

(7.) The leprosy kept men but from the fading city, terrestrial Jerusalem. 
This leprosy, unpurgcd by repentance, restrains men from that ' Jerusalem 
which is above,' a city built uiK)n jaspers, and sajiphires, and precious stones, 
flowing, instead of milk and honey, with bliss and glory. For 'into it .shall 
enter nothing that defileth, nor whatsoever worketh abomination or lies, 
Rev. xxi. 19. Now as the pleasures and treasures of this city are more, so 
much worse is the cause hindering our entrance. You may judge by this 
taste how far spiritual sickness is more bitter than corporal. Every circum- 
stance before hath refiectcd on this; but nimquam satis dicittir, </uod nun- 
quam satis addi^citur, — it is never taught enough that is not enough learned. 
4. I should now, lastly, inquire who are the sick, wherein, as the philoso- 



444 England's sickness. [Sermon XXIII. 

pher said of men, Kon tihi sunt, sed nhi non sunt, facile demonsfratur — I can 
easily shew you where they are not, not where they are.* It is a small 
matter to find out the sick, the difficulty is to find any sound. I know 
' there are a few names in our Sardis that have not defiled their garments,' 
Eev. iii. 4 ; but they are so few that it is hard to find them. ' Run to and 
fro through the streets, and seek in the broad places of our cities, if you can 
find a man, if there be any that executes judgment, and seeketh the truth,' 
Jer. V. 1. The whole world is very old and sick, given over, as man in his 
dotage, to covetousness. 

'Hajus adest setas extrema et ferrea mundi, 
Alget amor dandi, prajceps amor ardet habendi;* — 

' Needs mast the world be sick and old, 
When lust gi-ows hot, and charity cold.* 

Wonder you at this 1 Wonder is the daughter of ignorance, ignorance of 
nature. God hath foretold it, event hath fulfilled it. St Paul gives the 
symptoms of this general sickness : ' Redeem the time, for the days are evil,' 
Eph. V. 16. Our Saviour premonisheth the great decay of faith and love to 
ensue the apostasy of the latter times. His apostles testify no less. Paul 
to Timothy, ' Know that in the last days perilous times shall come. Men 
shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud,' &c., 2 Tim. 
iii. 1. Read and observe. Peter, with others, to make up a cloud of wit- 
nesses, prophesieth the like, if not Avith addition ; that men shall be so de- 
bauched, as even to deride and scoff at goodness, as a thing rather derisory 
than necessary, 2 Pet. iii. 3, Jude 18. The plague of sin rankles, and, helped 
with fit instruments of dispersion, infects the times. 

The scribe points to the publican, and thinks that destruction comes on 
the city for his sake. The ungodly Protestant lays the fault on the profane 
gallant that the days are evil, and says that pride devours all The proud 
on the covetous churl, the well-conceited h}^30crite on the dissolute, the dis- 
solute on the hypocrites. Even the wicked think the godly the cause, but 
the godly know the wicked the cause. Atheists Avill live as they list. 
Loquuntur grandia. They ' lift up their mouths against heaven,' and ac- 
knowledge no other deity than their own guts. If good cheer be their sick- 
ness, they care not though gluttony be their grave. Grace is fain to give 
place to wantonness, religion to idolatry, honesty to profaneness. Many 
live, as the apostle saith of Hymeneus and Philetus, as if ' the resurrection 
was past,' 2 Tim. ii. 18, or would never come. 

I know there was never age not complained of, not judged as worst. 
Laudamus veteres, &c. We see what is, not what hath been, Eccles. \'ii. 10. 
Some times have been evil, others worse, ours worst of all. We are so much 
worse than all, because we have more means to be better. We have atheists 
that serve no God, mammonists that serve their money, idolaters that serve 
creatures, apostates that forsake God, worldlings, temporisers, neuters, that 
serve many, serve all, serve none. Love is banished, temperance gives place 
to drunkenness, humility stoops to pride, hope yields to sense, and religion 
itself is used either for a show of good or for a cloak of evil. Men's words 
disagree from their deeds, their hearts from their words. If any say this 
world is not so sick as we give it, I durst tell them that they are a great part 
of the sickness ; and but for such we had less need to complain. 

Satan's violence now doubling his forces, shews it to be the last and worst 
time. For the devil then ragcth most, when he knows he shall rage but for 
* Rather ' where they arc, not where thoy are not.' — Ed. 



JeR. VIII. 22.] ENGLAND'S SICKNESS. 4-45 

a while. The world is sick, * the days are evil.' You hear what makes them 
so. Shortly, either doing or suffering ill ; sin originally, misery by conse- 
quent. If we would bate of our sins, God would decrease our miseries. 
What plagues the world with the sword, but malice and anil>ition i What 
turns the poor from their riglit, but injustice ? What brings famine but 
covctousness ? Proud courtiers make rich merchants, and both make miser- 
able commons. We multiply sins against God ; God, punishments upon us : 
the former from our unrighteousness, front his righteousness the latter ; b(jth 
together make the world sick, the days evil. I would hope it were vain 
now to bid you loathe the world. Is he less than mad that can love and dote 
on such a cheek 1 The beauty of it is black without by the miseries, and 
more foul within by the sins ; if any wretch shall now make it his choice, ho 
is not worthy of emy, if of pity. 

' There's only one way left not to admit 
The world's infection, to be none of it.' 

Conclusion. — Seeing we are thus sick, why speed we not to means of re- 
covery ? It was the sou of Sirach's counsel to use physic before thou be 
sick ; being sick, it is madness to neglect it. Yet as the physician is often 
fain to entreat his froward patient to admit of the potion ; so let me beseech 
you, nay, whiles I stand in the circle of your loves, let me conjure you, to 
accept of God's physic. God is our best physician. The .soul cannot mis- 
carry that is under the tender hands of her Maker. His crosses are hi»medi- 
cincs. As therefore in bodily sickness we can be content to be let blood hx 
the arm or the foot, for the curing of the head or the heart ; the health of the 
principal part is more joy to us than it is grief to be troubled in the inferior. 
Thy sound limbs carry a sick soul ; God fits thee with proper recuring, 
recovering physic ; afflictions, a singular medicine for diseased affections. 
Thou sayest, they are unpleasant ; true, they are physic : who respects plea- 
sure, but wholesomeness, in medicines ? Thou art happily displeased with the 
relish, when thy sick heart is thereby eased of the pangs. Wilt thou love 
thy palate above thy health ? Wilt thou refuse the implausible receipt of 
crosses, because they go against the grain of thy affections, and prefer thy 
lusts to thy soul '? Let him die that will rather choose a wilful sickness 
than a harsh remedy. 

This great physician hath some substitutes under liim, ordained to minis- 
ter to ouf sick souls. For besides the ministers of his word, applying that 
saving balm of the gospel, before largely specified, magistrates are his physi- 
cians, (of what degree soever,) to whom he hath committed the sword of- 
justice, as lancets to cut the ulcers of our soids, and to let out the imposthu- 
mate matter of our corruptions. Good laws are the phy.sic, and the just 
execution of them is the ministration. This aquafortis is fit for these iron 
days, to grave some characters and prints of goodness in them. Our knotted 
sins, like beds of eels, cannot be dissolved but by the thunder. You speak 
of all, if you say that the noise of this thunder can waken us. At first these 
laws may be, like the log which Jupiter in the fiible threw down to the frogs 
refjem petentifjus, to be their king, with much awe and reverence feared ; but 
afterwards, they get up and ride them in contempt. Subordinate officers are 
afraid to execute what the higher have wisely enacted. 

I wish that no laws, like Draco's, should be writ in blood ; yet withal, 
that the loosing of the reins of justice may not give encouragement to the 
already impudent fury of sin. Why should you fear to do right? Is it the 
lewdness of the time 1 whereof we may say, as it was once said of Rome, 



44G England's sickness. [Sermon XXIII. 

that they could neither endure an ill governor, nor obey a good one. Is it 
because a great person is the offender 1 Shall therefore any deputed justicers, 
which should shine in the orb of this country like the seven stars, basely de- 
generate into the cowardly darkness of the seven deadly sins, partaking of 
others' wickedness ? A great man undoes the commons, depopulates towns, 
encloseth fields, breaks, hke a great beast, through all the hedges and fences 
of God's law and man's ; treads justice, religion, honesty, conscience, under 
his proud feet. Will yoii, like beasts of the herd, follow him, and pass 
through the breaches and gaps of offence he hath made, and not oppose your 
strength to his oppressions 1 A great man is popishly addicted ; he havocs 
the church, abuseth the ministers, revUeth religion, maintains the Seminary, 
countenanceth secret treason, admits no tenants but those that will be ten- 
ants to Home, and puts not his own livery upon any back but that which 
withal accepts the Pope's — ' the mark of the beast ' — together with his cog- 
nizance. Dare you not oppose, hinder, stop, his wickedness 1 I say unto 
you, ' Your life shall go for his life, if you let him scape,' 1 Kings xs. 42. 
' If thou seest the oppression of the poor, and violent perverting of judgment 
in a province, marvel not at the matter ; for he that is higher than the high- 
est regardeth ; and there be higher than they,' Eccles. v. 8. 

What hinders you 1 God, the supreme JMagistrate, the law, religion, con- 
science, is on your side. You cannot want seconds, whiles these take your 
part. Why should you fear the looks of man, who is dust and ashes, whiles 
you tremble not to disobey the Lord ? So a little dog running in the field 
amongst a whole flock of sheep, scares them all away ; and when he is gone, 
they turn again and stare on him as if he were some fearful monster. So the 
little birds are afraid of the cuckoo, because he looks like a hawk. Because 
these tyrannous oppressors and Papists look as if they had horns of iron, 
like Zedekiah, 1 Kings xxii. 11, shall the arms and armour of justice be 
timorous to encounter them 'i But as in a diseased body, if the sickness 
once take the heart, how shall the members find comfort 1 — how should the 
distressed commonalty be succoured in these oppressions, eased of these 
burdens, when the magistrates, which are as the heart, are infected with the 
same enormities ? Beloved, spare not your hands when God calls for them ; 
your remissness and connivance is not love, but hatred. He that bii-xds the 
frantic, and rouseth him that is sick of a lethargy, angers, but lovets, both. 
It is a happy necessity that enforceth to goodness. 

Neither is this physician-office imposed only on the magistrates ; every 
man must be medicinal to another. Who, but a Cain, is not his 'brother's 
keeper' 1 Reasonable exhortation, seasonable reproof, good example, ever 
timely and available, are mutual remedies to this sickness. ' Exhort one 
another daily, whiles it is called To-day, lest any of you be hardened through 
the deceitfulness of sin,' Heb. iii. 13. There is first, dehitum chariiatis, 
the due of charity, 'exhort one another;' then iemporis opportunitas, the 
fitness of season, ' whiles it is called To-day ;' then periculum ohstinationis, 
the danger of obstinacy, ' lest you be hardened ;' and, lastly, calliditas hostis, 
the subtlety of the enemy, ' through the deceitfulness of sin.' 

Every man must be a physician to himself, as being best acquainted with 
his own hcai-t. If ago hath ri})ened thy discretion, thou art to thyself, saith 
the proverb, aut sttdtus aut tnedlcus, — either a fool or a phj-sician. Thou 
knowest where the soul's sickness lies ; by one receipt make way to another, 
as physicians use, and by all to thy health : by rejientance to faith, by 
faith to virtue, &c. And in those works of devotion, medicinal intentions to 
the cure of thy soul, (as physicians prescribe in sweats and exercise,) do not 



Jer. VIII. 22.] England's sickness. 447 

cease over suddenly. Let not thy jirayer, meditation, hearing of the word 
be broken oft" at the call of every vanity. 

Good diet is in the ne.\t place neccs.sary to physic. In vain doth the 
potion work our recovery, if our evil behaviour after it sliall draw on us a 
relapse. Recidivatioti is so much more dangerous than our first sickness, as 
our natural strength is then the more fecbled, and unable to endure means 
of restoring. If the potion of repentance hath purged your hearts, you must 
observe the strict diet of obedience, which consists in refraining from the 
corrupt meats whereon your souls have surfeited; in restraining yourselves to 
the bread of heaven, the body and blood of Christ, the object of your faith ; 
and doing the will of God, the object of your conversation, which Christ calls 
his meat and drink. 

The first is that spiritual fast which especially pleaseth God, Isa. Iviii. G, 
and which he calls 'a fast to himself,' Zech. vii. 5. This is that maynum et 
(jenerale jejuninm, — that lent of abstinence, which we nmst all keep, consist- 
ing in holiness of life. God hath ever from the beginning dieted our bodies, 
keeping in his own hand (as a master in his own house) the disposition of his 
creatures, for the use of man, that man might depend on his provident Maker 
for all needful blessings. In the first age, he appointed him for meat, ' every 
herb bearing seed, and every tree yielding fruit, upon the face of all the earth,' 
Gen. i. 29 ; whether he gave him liberty to eat flesh or no, we hold it un- 
certain. After the flood, the Lord renewed his gi'ant, and gave free use of 
his creatures, with free liberty to cat flesh, but restraining the flesh of the 
unclean, and the blood of all, Gen. ix. 3. At Christ's coming, he enlarged 
our patent, and gave license to eat all kinds of flesh. Acts x. 15 ; only, now, 
he restrains sin, allowing the use, and forbidding the abuse of all. ' Every 
ceature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if received with thanks- 
giving,' ifec, 1 Tim. iv. 4. Sin, then, sin is the only tiling from which we 
must perpetually fast : the hands fastmg from oppression, robbery, blood ; 
the feet from perverse and erring ways ; the ears from sucking in slanderous 
tales ; the eyes from gazing after vanities ; the thoughts from impurity. Let 
the blasphemer fast from oaths, the covetous from greediness, the malicious 
from hatred, the drunkard from liis full cups, every sinner from his lust- 
plea.sing iniquities. 

They shall not repent this forbearance. The soul .shall not starve when it 
hath lost these acorn.s. Behold, for the other respect, ' there is bread, and 
bread enough in your father's house,' Luke xv. ; if that content you not, lo, 
the fat calf is kDled, Christ is crucified ; this banquet is eaten with music, 
mirth, and joy of heart ; new garments are put on your souls, and a fresh 
blee will arise in your cheeks. The world's gross food could not give you 
true content ; but ' hunger and thust ' after this diet, and * blessed are you, 
for you shall be satisfled,' Matt. v. G. Our God is abundantly merciful; 
let not us be wanting to ourselves. Every one mend one, so shall the general 
health of all be perfected. Which health the Thysician of heaven, for his 
mercies' and merits' sake, vouchsafe unto us I Amen. 



HEAVEN AND EAETH EECONCILED. 



They that turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars for ever and 
ever.—DA-S. XII. 3. 

These words are prophetically spoken, and turn over to us a golden leaf, 
whose ink is nectai', and the pen from the wings of angels ; I mean, the 
matter expressed is wholly celestial : what shall be the end of the righteous, 
and of them that make them so. Porta patet coeli, procul, oh procul este, 
profani. I must in some sort open you the everlasting doors, and shew 
you the King of glory, and your glory in him. Let a holy reverence possess 
your souls, and say with Jacob, ' The place is fearful ; none other but the 
house of God, and this is the gate of heaven,' Gen. xxix. 1 7. Suppose that 
great Prince set on his throne of universal j udgment, and upon all creatures 
that have borne the image of God, summoned before him, having passed an 
irrevocable sentence, will you hear what shall become of the just 1 Open 
your intellectual sanctified eyes, able, with Stephen, to pierce through the 
curled clouds, and with meditations rapt to the third heaven, behold them 
as here described : ' The wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament ; 
and they that turn many to rightecjusness shall shine as the stars for ever 
and ever.' A lofty metaphor, when the lowest part of it is not less high than 
the firmament, than the stars. Just men shall parallel the brightness of the 
azure sky, and ministers shall shine as stars in it ; nay, they shall transcend 
both in glory. We shall then see the firmament and stars as far below us, 
as now our humbled mortality thinks them above us ; and could they shine 
as bright as ever their creation left them, the righteous shall outshine them ; 
for, ' they shall be fashioned to the glorious body of Christ,' Phil. iiL 21. 

The words may be distinguished, in opus, et mercedem, — into the work, 
and the wages. Here is earth and heaven in this text ; our way and our 
country, dishonour and honour, trouble and peace. Our earth, way, trouble, 
goes thus far : ' They that turn many to righteousness.' Our heaven, country, 
peace, follows : ' sliall shine as the stars for ever and ever.' 

I. We ministers on earth are not unfitly compared to logical copulatives, 
that must join together a subject and a predicate. 1. The subject we work 
on is men, many men. 2. The predicate we work them to is righteousness. 
3. Ministers are the copulative, that unite these, convertentes, that make men 
and righteousness friends ; which never naturally and heartily loved one 
another aince that apple set our first parents' teeth on edge. 



Dan. XII. 3.] heaven and earth ueconciled. 449 

II. Our heaven follows ; and there is nothing Imt joy in it. 1. ' We shall 
.shine ;' no more be counted dross and offscouriiv-; of the world, as Paul says ; 
no more be like low hedges, which every Ximn k\, hunter, persecutor, treads 
down for his sport ; no more be like rejected and unthought-of things, which 
the eye of scorn looks over. We shall stand where we shall be seen ; ' we 
shall shine.' 2. Not meanly, and with a glimmering light, but ' as stars,' re- 
served to the Sun of righteousness his greater and chief glory ; * we shall shine 
as stars.' 3. Tliis ' for ever ;' not meteors, whiles a gross, spumy, .squalid 
substance lasts ; nor like stellce cadentes, falling stars, which .seem fixed in 
some sphere, but are not, as St John saitli, 'They went out from us, for they 
were not of us,' 1 Epist. ii. 1 9 ; but without passing the horizon of glory, 
without obscuring, without interposition of any clouds ; ' we shall shine for 
ever and ever.' This is our heaven ; but I must keep you on earth a while, 
though you long more for the other place. 

I. 1. The Sniiject. — Tlie subject we must exercise our skill on are men, 
tempered of the same mould, having a soul inspired from the breath of the 
same God, as dear to him as ourselves, bought with no worse blood than 
his Son's, guarded with angels, protected by the same providence, and com- 
passed about with the same mercies that we are. God made man after his 
own likeness, that there might be quoddam in terris Dei simulacruni, — a cer- 
tain image of himself on earth, wherein he might be delighted : as it is 
natural to every being to affect that which received derivation from it; as 
Apelles was delighted with his tablets, Pj-graalion with his ivory statue. 
Narcissus with his form in the fountain, a woman with her face in the glass, 
and parents with the offspring of their loins. Socrates then is composed of 
no better metal than his scholars, nor the minister than the people. Think 
not yourselves lords over them, 1 Pet. v. 3 ; all persons are equally respected 
of God. Prasumus officio, pares sumus dignitate coram Deo, — We are above 
them in office, not in dignity with God. 

Let this meditation suppress our pride, either naturally born with us, or 
accidentally contracted by a self-opinion ; it is an easy fault, and soon in- 
curred, for a minister to be proud of his gifts, of his place, as ^Miriam w:vs of 
the Spirit, and to prefer himself to those he teach eth, nay, to his fellow- 
teachers. Let me have no need to remember you of that, unum restat, one 
thing is wanting — a humbled souL Thou hast overcome many corruptions, 
subdued lusts, qualified infirmities ; take heed lest vincenda superhia restat, 
— pride remains yet to be overcome. He that contemns others, makes him- 
self most contemptible. But, Quorsinn hoecl — To what end is this ? No 
such vice cleaves to us. I would it did not ; I would no star did envy the 
brighter shining of another. But alas I pride is a subtle insinuating sin, ever 
convensant in good things ; it crept into paradise, nay, it stole into heaven. 
No sin is more saucy, none more bold with God, none less welcome. It 
took up Iddging in the Pli.»risce, tliat was^so jirecise in tithing, alms, j>rayer. 
Many a Pharisee is pnnid that he is not pnuul ; so subtle is that temptation 
of our adversary, when a man will be humble, to make him highly conceited 
of his humility : not unlike the Cynic, that condenmed Plato's pride with a 
worse of his own. * I thank God, I am not as others,' says that Pharisee. 
He was not indeed, but had little reason to thank God for it. The em[>tiest 
barrel makes the loudest .sound. He that is truly learned hath learned this, 
not to boast it. It often befalls such, as it did that cardinal, who making a 
show of bringing much trca.^ure into the land, one of lii.'i nmlcs stumbled, and 
the portmantle broke, and there was a gnodly .show of mo.ss, and straw, and 
stones. They that look so big upon their bretlu'cn, were their cabinet opened, 
VOL. r. 2 F 



450 HEAVEN AND EARTH RECONCILED. [SeRMON XXIV. 

all the great supposed treasure within would appear to be mere husks, froth, 
and ignorance. The sun excels the moon in glory, yet both are stars, with- 
out enaulation one of another. The highest cedar will suffer the lowest shrub 
to grow under it. He that digs the ground, hath his use in the garden, as 
well as he that draws the knot. Silver is metal as well as gold ; and the beg- 
gar may be as good a subject as the lord. Christ gave his life for his sheep, 
as well as for his under shepherds. Despise not thy fellow-servants, lest the 
Master of us all despise thee. 

This subject is set down indefinitely, ' many.' Whence observe, that the 
power of God is here perspicuous, that designs a few to convert many ; nay, 
one man to have the charge of a congregation. Compare the minister with 
his charge, and think the difference : one man to a multitude ; one without 
pomp to many mighty, wise, rich, noble ; a weak man with a few leaves of 
paper, to those that are armed with a prejudicial opposition of nature against 
it ; the message not promising liberty, ease, encouragement to lusts, but 
threatening jDcrsecution, cross, rod, trouble : yet to bind kings in chains, and 
nobles in fetters of iron; to recover the heathen from their ancient and 
national idolatries, and prostrate them to the name of Jesus ; to make the 
drunkard sober, covetous merciful, malicious charitable ; hie digitus Dei, — 
this is the finger of God. Thus, one Moses shall give precepts to six hundred 
thousand men able to bear arms ; one Peter convert three thousand at a 
sermon ; one minister (full of weakness) affect a gTcat congregation, erect, 
depress, with either threats or promises, and persuade wild Japheth, as tame 
as a lamb, into the tents of Shem. Thus a dozen weak apostles passed once 
through legions of soldiers, prohibitions of laws, menaces of adversaries, 
oppositions of the flesh, pride, religions, Satan, into the courts of khigs, and 
overcame them with the gospel. What shall we say? We admire the con- 
quest of Alexander, that with forty thousand men subdued all Asia. If his 
army had been greater, his victory, his glory had been less. If he had 
achieved it with fewer, we would have doubled his honour; but if with 
twelve, deified him. Jesus Christ hath, and doth daily, make greater con- 
quests with fewer soldiers ; subduing souls, which is a greater victory than 
that of bodies, sine vi et armis, without military engines. Yet who appre- 
hends the immenseness of his power, or admires the depth of his wisdom 1 

Indeed, it is admirable if any such thing be wrought in these days. Time 
was, one sermon could turn many ; now many sermons cannot turn one. 
Many thirsty souls have drunk at one fountain, and been satisfied ; infinite 
fountains are now open, and none will drink. They come indeed to Jacob's 
well, but they bring no pitchers with them, — no fiuth, no attention, no con- 
science. God hath set open the doors of his mercy, grace, glory ; only our 
hearts are shut up : we may as well preach to these material walls, and 
move the scats, as your cauterised and numbed consciences. When we have 
studied our colour into palenes.s, our strength into weakness, our bloods to 
jelly, and spoke away our spirits into air, you are the same still, and your 
sins in the same strength ; not a ]\Iannnon, Belial, Melchom, changes their 
lodgings, or is unroosted out of your hearts. You come before the pulpit, 
but your faith and conscience is left behind you. Your closets, shops, fields, 
nay, perhaps taverns and tap-houses, plead possession of your affections : 
and all the law that comes out of the chair of Moses caimot give the devil 
a defeasance. 

What then 1 Shall we not shine in this glory, because so few have been 
turned by us 1 Nothing less ; and we have precedent for it : ' Though Israel 
be not gathered, yet shall I be glorious in the eyes of the Lord,' saith the 



Dan. XII. 3.J heaven and earth reconciled. 451 

prophet, Isa. xlix. 5. Though when we have spent our strengths in Israel, 
the widow of Saropta is more charitable. Though the altar hath enjoyed 
our labours, we not her privileges, yet for us ' is 'aid up a crown of glory,' 
2 Tim. iv. 8. Though it cannot but grieve us to be a savour of death to 
many, and to rise up condemning witnesses against those that would not 
believe our report ; yet since God is glorified in both heaven and hell, and 
we have faithfully discharged the duties of our callings and consciences, leav- 
ing the success to God, though we have turned few to righteousness, yet we 
shall shine as stars for ever and ever. 

2. 'The Predicate. — The predicate we work men to is righteousness. 
Righteousness is so fair an object, that a man would think there needs no 
great solicitation to it. What heart would not be enamoured on the beauty 
of righteousness if we saw it ] Even the most unrighteous men have been 
convinced to approve of righteousness. Surely integrity is not loved, because 
it is not seen. The devil so takes up our eyes with the flourishes of sin, 
and gay colours of lusts, that we are blind to the sight of goodness ; whose 
face if we could behold in that mirror of clearness wherein we were created, 
we would be in love with nothing else but God and that. But as an ill- 
affected stomach is best pleased with crudities, our poisoned and infected 
natures are dotingly taken with corruptions, and have no love to righteous- 
ness. No love, said I ? No familiarity, no knowledge, no acquaintance ; 
that if God should suffer our blinded souls so to go on to our deaths, we 
should scarce ever dream of righteousness. Therefore he hath given us 
helps, his word, and the vocal organs, to make it sound to us ; his ministers, 
who may turn our hearts to righteousness. Here is offered to us this 
instruction. 

The end of the ministry is to bring men to righteousness. Christ, ' when 
he had led captivity captive, gave gifts to men,' Eph. iv. What were they, 
and to what end ? Paul declares both the gifts, ver. 11, * He gave some to be 
apostles, some prophets,' etc. The end, ver. 12, 'For the repairing of the 
saints, and for the edification of the body of Christ ;' a task hard enough. 
Ars artiiim, regimen animarum, — It is the cunning of all cunnings to govern 
souls. It is no easy work to make men righteous. If they could retain 
covetise, licentiou.sness, vainglory, in their service, and withal be righteous, 
there were some hope : but when you tell them that carnal lust and righteous- 
ness are two ends that shaU never meet ; that ' flesh and blood shall not 
inherit the kingdom of heaven,' 1 Cor. xv. 50 ; when you bid them weep 
for and restore their injuries, usuries, sacrileges, charm their tongues from 
blasphemies, their hearts from vanities ; you shall almost as good bathe a 
Moor in hope to whiten him. Men naturally love anything better than 
righteousness, and think any burden lighter than repentance. Hence it is 
that we are not so welcome as the ministers of Satan. Behold, thy mini-ster 
mourns to thee in the pulpit, and persuades thee by the blood of Christ, 
not without his own tears, to have mercy on thy own soul ; not to cast 
away all the hopes and comforts of a better world ; to bewail and beware of 
sins, which will make a hell in thy bosom here, and sink thee to a worse 
hell hereafter : nihii agit, ho cannot prevail. Let but a ruftian hold up 
his finger, thou art gone. All auditors are not ruffians, and so addicted, — 
God forbid that our Sardis should not have ' a few names left in her,' — but 
many are thus, and more of a different disposition, but a worse. The most 
attend the world : ' Who will slicw u.s any good V Ps. iv. G. The minister's 
voice is not .so audible as profit's ; nor can divinity make so sweet music aa 
the world. If to condole this were to help it, and the di.sco\ery of the dis- 



452 HEAVEN AND EARTH RECONCILED. [SeRMON XXIV, 

ease were no less than the remedy, I should soon cure it. But shall I tell 
you ? The general opinion of most in our parishes is this, (if the life do not 
belie the mind,) that a competent measure of righteousness is enough for 
heaven ; and salvation doth not stand on so hard conditions as we teach. 
No bounds or measures of iniquity are enough, but a little righteousness 
serves. It is matter of amazement to see how the most live, as if they were 
neither in God's debt nor danger. Men strive who shall sin most, and give 
Jesus Christ the deepest wounds. They swear, bezzel,* covet, and laugh at 
him that tells them they sin. There is not so much shame left in their 
bloods as to give testimony of their guiltiness. If it were possible, they 
would annihilate their souls, and quench all difference betMdxt themselves anc 
beasts : ' Let us eat and drink, for we shall die.' It is soon said, and soon 
eaten ; but not so soon digested. They advance the colours of Satan, blas- 
phemies and lies, in the very face of God ; as if they sent challenges to 
heaven, and dared their Maker to the combat. For the ministry of the word, 
whose intent is to beget in our souls righteousness, they make this the end 
of it, to pass the time, to keep holidays from sleep, and to move the hearts 
of idiots. They visit the temple for custom, as fools ; for example, as apes ; 
for necessity, as beasts ; for praises, as hypocrites ; or for peace, as politicians. 
How few think their minister placed over them to turn their hearts to right- 
eousness ! 

I have shewed them the end of the ministry ; we may not forget to appl}' 
it to ourselves. God's intent in sealing thee this commission is to work in 
men's hearts righteousness. Who knows not that 1 God grant none forget 
it ! I am not worthy, fathers and brethren, to inform your understandings ; 
saltern concedatur refricare memorias, — only give me leave to rub your 
memories. It is i easy to propound sinister ends to our best, ordinate, 
and most regular works. There are five bitter herbs to spoil all the chil- 
dren of the prophets' pottage ; five affections to distaste our ministry, I 
will not say to make it ineflectual : fame, flattery, ease, necessity, covet- 
ousness. 

(1.) Are there none that catch at popular applause, and rather hunt them- 
selves into fame than souls into heaven; se jyrcedicantes, non Christum, — 
preaching themselves, rather than Jesus Christ 1 Mancipia popularis aurce 
venalis, — Creatures bred of the people's breath, whose excellencies consist 
only in opinion ; rare men in their own judgments, and the flattered multi- 
tude's, that speak more desperately against doubted and questionable actions, 
than against known and manifest sins ; that inveigh against some to please 
the rest ; and even curry favour by speaking bitterly : of whom he spake 
truly that said, ' They care not to be condemned of the learned for ignorant, 
so they may be commended of the ignorant for learned.' 

' Quid petitur sacris nisi tantum fama poetis ? ' 

What gape these for but only fame 1 They intend not erection of hearts, 
direction of lives, correction of vices ; but they have a strange kind of plea- 
sure to hold men by the ears, as the fisher the pike by the gills, and neither 
takes him nor lets him go ; there is in these more affectation of fame tha)i 
affection of truth. 

(2.) Are there none that mould their sermons with court dough, flattery ? 
Cushion-chaplains that carry their mistresses' fans, to keep the heat of rejiroof 
from their painted faces ; that cry it is either cold or hot, as their patron 
lists to feel it 1 

* That is, embezzle. — Ed. 



Dan. XIL 3.] heaven and ealth eeconciled. 453 

' Si pranderet olus patienter, regibus uti 
Nollet Aristippus ; si sciret regibus uti, 
Fastidiret olus,' &c.* 

They get more by flattery than just men by their impartial censure. But it 
was xVristotle's : Amiens Plato, amicus Socrates, ma<jis arnica Veritas. Thy 
patron is thy friend, iuid the chief man of thy parish is thy friend ; trutli is 
thy friend above all. 

(3.) Are there none that leap out of the troubles of the world into the 
peace of the church, only to be fed at the altar and live idle ? that being 
entertained to build up God's house, and once sure of his pay, lay down their 
tools and fall to play ? 

(4.) Are there none that make a virtue of necessity, and when all trades 
fail, turn priests, making that their last refuge that should be their best ? 
This is a rank custom among the Papists ; but I hope it hath not gotten 
over our seas. Oh, how vile is it, and an argument of a desperate mind, 
when divuiity is made but a shift ! If to dig they are too lazy, to beg 
ashamed, to steal afraid, to cheat want wit, and to live raean.s, tlien thrust 
in for a room in the church ; and once crept in at the window, make haste 
to shark out a living ; nay, and perhaps fly apace with the wings of gohlen 
ignorance into patrons' books, and presentations to good benefices, when 
learning is so ill horsed, riding upon penury, that the benefice is gone ere 
he comes. No matter how poor the stock of learning be, so the stock of 
money hold out, to the patron's content. Sometimes such beggars are made 
priests, when good priests are made beggars. 

(5.) Are there none sick of the pearl in the eye 1 A shrewd disease, and 
no less common ; whose souls are taken up by i\Iammon's commission, as 
Demas, that gave religion the bag, when the world offered him the purse, 
and vowed to serve Christ no longer for nothing. I have shewed you many 
oblique, indirect, and sinister ends ; but among all, this carries it for custom, 
for hatefulness. Proh pudor ! that ever a minister should be covetous, as if 
we had lost all our former time, and were now to recover it with a jDrepo.s- 
terous emulation of the hungriest worldlings ! How should we reclaim others 
from the world, that cleave to it ourselves ] They must needs think we have 
a broader way to heaven than we teach others. It is observable that the 
creatures nearest to the earth are most greedy to accumulate. What crea- 
tures store up such heaps of provision as the ant ? But the birds of the air, 
that fly no.xt heaven, ' neither sow, nor reap, nor carry into the barn,' saith 
our Savit)ur, ^latt. vi. 2G. We are next to heaven in profession; let us hate 
to be furthest off in conversation. 

These are all unblest and pernicious ends, and whereof, I trust, no soul is 
here guilty. I confidently use the words of Paul, ' I have persuaded myself 
better things of you, and such as accompany salvation, though I thus speak,' 
Heb. vi. 9. I hope the least feather can brush these dusts from our con- 
science. Let not fame, flattery, ease, neccs.sity, covetousness, task our endea- 
vours to this holy work. We are then but adidterantex verbiim, such as 
adulterate God's word, 2 Cor. iv. 2 : as the fornicator makes lust liis end, not 
generation, so such a minister intends not to beget souls to God, but fame 
or gain to himself If we do thu,s, the worst is our own. ' Whiles some 
]>reach Christ of strife, some of good-wiU, yet so long as Christ is preached, I 
do joy, and will joy therein,' Phil. i. 15-18. It shall be the best for us that 
our intents sympathise with God's ; his ordinance with our performance, to 
turn souls to righteoiisni'.s.s. 

• llor. 



454 HEAVEN AND EAKTH RECONCILED. [SeRMON XXIV. 

3. The Copulatives. — This for the predicate. The persons whom God hath 
deputed to at-one these two contrary natures, sinful men and righteousncssj, 
are the ministers. There is no weak contentation between these, and the 
labour is hard to reconcile them : ' To us is committed this ministry of recon- 
ciliation,' 2 Cor. V. 18. God hath honoured us to tie this knot, though it 
be indeed digmis vindice nodus, a sacramental bond for the hand of the most 
high God to perfect. Yet he vouchsafes this honour to us, as his instruments, 
that we in his name and power shall tie a double knot on earth ; a temporal 
knot of the husband to the wife, which none but the minister may do ; spi- 
ritual and eternal knot of the believing soul to her husband Christ : ' I have 
prepared you for one husband, to present you a pure virgin to Christ,' 2 Cor. 
xi. 2. He hath designed us to turn men to righteousness. 

Is this possible 1 Est Deus in vohis, &c., — God is in you if you can do 
this ; no power rules, constrains, converts the heart of man, but God only. 
I say again, thus is God pleased to honour us, that we shall be said to con- 
vert sinners. ' He that converteth a sinner from going astray shall save a 
soul from death, and hide a multitude of sins,' James v. 20. And Paul thus 
chargeth Timothy, ' Continue in learning ; for in doing this thou shalt save 
thyself, and them that hear thee,' 1 Tim. iv. 16. Yet, ahsit, far be it from 
us to think, or any superstitious soul to ascribe to us, that by our own arm 
we have gotten this victory. If the Psalmist denies power to any of rescu- 
ing his brother's body from the grave, he much more excludes the redemp- 
tion of his soul. This, then, is true : when the external voice of man and 
the internal operation of the Spirit jump together, then John Baptist ' shall 
turn hearts,' Mai. iv. 6 ; then ' the priest shall make the soul clean,' Lev. 
xvi., when the agent of heaven and instruments of earth do concur, or are 
comprehensively taken : but when they be either compared in opposing, or 
opposed in comparing, then all is in God, then ' Paul can (but) plant, and 
ApoUos water, God gives the increase,' 1 Cor. iii. 6. Then John Baptist 
pours on water, and ' Christ baptizeth with the Holy Ghost, and with tire,' 
Matt. iii. 11. Will you hear them united? ' God was in Christ, reconciling 
the world to himself; and hath committed to us the mhiistry of reconciha- 
tion,' 2 Cor. v. 1 9 ; else there is no power in my perishable voice to affect 
your conscience. Break away this analogy and virtual association of the 
Spirit from our preaching, and you depart from the temple with as foul hearts 
as ever you came thither. No, beloved ; lift up your eyes higher than the 
pulpit, and know he dwells in heaven that pierceth the conscience : ' Behold, 
I stand at the door, and knock,' &c., Ptev. iii. 20. I, says the Son of the 
eternal God. It is he that clears the eye, undeafs the ear, unlocks the heart, 
and shakes the inmost powers of the soul, as the thunder shakes the wilder- 
ness. Were we all Boanerges, the sons of thunder, we were not able without 
him to turn your hearts to righteousness. Indeed the word is ' strong in 
operation, dividing the marrow and the bones,' Heb. iv. 12; and our minis- 
try is ' not of the letter, but spirit,' saith St Paul, thus far exceeding the 
external commandment of Moses, whereunto he could not convert his own 
soul, that it shall not only require faith, but give it. Yet still vivtus cl Deo, 
— the virtue, life, spirit, is from God. 

This clears us from that Popish imputation, that we build our faith on a 
silly minister. We build it on the testimony of the Spirit, and the word of 
eternal truth, delivered to us by such an organ. The truth examined, they 
rather build their salvation on a silly muiister. Thus far they and we go 
hand and hand : we agree that f;iith and conversion is wrought in the heart 
by an esi^ecial grace of God's Spirit. But here we part ; they say, the 1 loly 



Dan. XII. 3.] heaven and earth reconciled. 455 

Ghost useth the authority of the church to beget faith in our hearts. We 
say, he useth the ministry only, not the authority. Thus, -whereas they raise 
the credit of the doctrine from the minister, we raise the credit of the minis- 
ter from the doctrine : so that of both, Papists may be trulier said to build 
their faith on the credit of men ; yea, and such men as some of them have 
been, Sodomites, some conjurers, some murderers, and scarce inferior to devils, 
imless now perhaps they lie as deep and low in hell. Thus are their blinded 
souls bound to believe, not by their ministry as Christians, but by their au- 
thority as Pythagoreans. 

I confess, the word carries authority with it in any lips which God hath 
touched with a coal from his altar, and woe to the soul that disobeys it ! 
There is an easy distinction betwixt the lawyer, the physician, and the divine. 
The lawyer begins with reason, and so descends to common experience and 
authority. The physician begins with experience, and thence proceeds to rea- 
son and authority. The divine begins with authority, and so to reason and 
experience. Our personal authority, then, is nothing ; the authority of God's 
word not to be withstood. These, then, are the copulatives, and this the 
means to bring you to righteousness, or else despair it. If thou, living within 
the sunshine of the gospel, wilt not be enlightened by it, thou must perish 
in darkness. If the preacher convert thee not to righteousness, God must 
work miracles, or thy soul is in hazard. 

II. We should now come to our reward, our bliss, our heaven : * shall shine 
as stars for ever and ever.' But I find it, Rev. i., ' The seven stars are the 
angels of the seven churches.' Ministers shall be stars hereafter, saith the 
prophet Daniel ; they shall be stars here too, saith St John. Without ques- 
tion both speak truth, and there is a shining of this world goes before that 
of heaven. We must be stars in grace, that look to be so in glory. It was 
directed to the apostles, Vos estis lux miuidi, — ' You are the light of the 
world,' and, ' Let your light so shine before men,' Matt. v. 14, 16. So God 
hath disposed, that lumen gratice antecedat lumen glorioe, — the light of grace 
shall precede the light of glory. And none shall .shine hereafter that have 
been dark here. First, then, consider what kind of stars we are ; then what 
we shall be. Ministers are said to be stars in five respects : in name, sub- 
stance, site, motion, efiects. 

1. In name. Stella a stanclo dicitur, — A star, quasi not stir, further than 
the orb carries it. God hath fixed them in their spheres, and confined them 
to stations. Like good soldiers, they know their ranks and their orders, and 
observe their non ultra. ' The sun knows his rising and his going down.' 
Ministers must be like stars fixed in their orbs ; ours is a stable profession, 
not a gadding ministry. It was St Peter's counsel, or rather the Holy Ghost's 
charge, ' Feed that flock that dependeth on you,' 1 E[)ist. v. 2. He spake mer- 
rily that said, the tribe of Levi must have no mind to the tribe of Gad. The 
apostles, indeed, went through the world, but they had their passport for it : 
' Go, teach aU nations,' &.c. It must not be so with us ; not that you, which 
are full, should grudge the hungry .souls some cmmbs from your tables. 
How many are yet in this land that would be heart-glad of those sermons 
which you sleep out and despise ! How many would clo.se the minister in 
the arms of joy, whom you contemn ! So easy is it for a full stomach to 
forget the benefit of meat ! The feet of those that bring good tidings of 
peace are nowhere less beautiful than in their most frequented streets. 
Never found prophet less honour, less welcome, than where his perpetual 
pains have best earned it. Like pampered children, you play with your 
meat. Give us leave to gratify with .some comfort.s, I say not, with our 



436 HEAVEN AND EARTH RECONCILED. [SeRMON XXIV. 

Sa\'iour, the dogs, but the children of our own Father, which want them. 
Theodoret writes, that when Valens, with his Arian heresy, had bepestered 
the Christian world, and stroke a deep wound in the white bos(Mn of the 
church, Aphraades, a certain monk, contrary to his order, came forth of his 
vowed and confining monastery to succour the endangered truth. Being asked 
by the offended emperor, what he did out of his cell 'I ' I did keep it,' saith he, 
' so long as Christ's sheep were in peace ; I cannot be cooped up and suffer 
them in hazard of ruin. If being a virgin, I were confined by my father to a 
closet, yet seeing the house on fire, I were bound to come forth to quench it.' 

Thus it is when the affairs of the church call us forth ; but our own may 
not find us so ready. They are wretched stars that will be fixed in no orb, 
admit of no certain charge : nay, not stars, but mere meteors, exhalations, 
ignes fatid ; comets portending delusion to others, confusion to themselves; 
unstable lights, ' carried about with every wind of doctrine ; ' ' wandering 
stars,' as Jude saith, ' for whom is reserved,' not this shining in glory, but 
' the black darkness for ever,' Jude 1 3. They were such stars that the red 
dragon with his tail swept from heaven and cast down to the earth, that had 
no true location in the orb of the church ; stellce erraticce, following their 
own fantasies. Let us beware of such wanderings, lest it be said of us, as 
the poet of that star, Etsi non cecidit, poterit cecidisse videri, — Though we 
have not fallen away, yet we have seemed so. Let no storms blow us from 
our charges ; menaces, miseries, gusts, waves, shall beat upon us, yet si fractus 
illahatuv o)bis, impavidum ferient ruince, — let us stick close and fast to our 
spheres : when God's general afflictions of plague, famine, mortality, are most 
frequent, our counsels are most seasonable. Oh, when will the iron hearts 
of men bow, if not when they are heat in the flames of judgments 1 They 
are wretched stars, then, and incapable of this glory, that are subito appa- 
rentes, subito disparentes, labantes et lahentes, — suddenly up and suddenly 
down ; giving a glimmering, but no solid and certain light. Let no such 
stars shine in our firmament. 

2. In subs'/ance. Stella est solida et pellucida viateries, non vetmtate, non 
puh-edine corrumpenda, non casu tdlo dissipanda, — A star is a more solid 
part of his orb, every way round, light, simple, and most pure. A minister 
must for substance be a star, possess a star-like and substantial light, not a 
flash of lightning, but a continual lamp of learning, which, like the fire of 
the sanctuary, must never go out. ' You are the light of the world,' saith 
our Master; 'but if the light be darkness, how great is that darkness?' 
Light, as well as place in the firmament, is essential to a star ; and learnhig, 
as well as office, is requisite for a minister. They that handle the two-edged 
sword of the Spirit must have skill when to strike with it, when but to shake 
it, and when to sheathe it. An unlearned scribe, without his treasure of old and 
new, is unfit to interpret God's oracles. ' The priests' lips shall preserve know- 
ledge,' Mai. ii. 7, is no less a precept to the minister than a promise to the people. 
We are unfit to be seers, if we cannot distinguish between Hagar and Sarah, 
but Ixion-like, take a cloud for Juno. We are poor stars, if light enough 
comes not from us whereby to distuiguish of colours, to discern the manna 
of Israel from the enchanted cup of Babel. A minister without learning 
is like a mere cipher, which fills up a place, and increaseth the number, but 
signifies nothing. There have been some niggardly affected to learning, 
calling it man's wisdom ; they thrust out the use of arts, as if, •mih Julian, 
they would shut up the school doors, and send all human knowledge into 
Vjanishment. If the moral says of a poet, or a philosopher, or ])erhaps some 
golden sentence of a father drop from us, it is straight called venenata 



Dan. XII. 3.J heaven and earth uecuncileu. 4'57 

facundia, a poisoned eloquence ; as if all these were not the spoils of the 
Gentiles, and mere handmaids unto divinity. They wrong us ; we make 
not the i)ulpit a philosophy, logic, poetry-school ; but all these so many 
stairs to the jiulpit. Parnassus waits on Zion, Helicon on the fountain of 
grace. Secular learning hath use, if it be washed in tlie soap of the pro- 
phets. Will you have it ? The fox dispraiseth the gra[)es he cannot reach. 
If they could beat down learning, they might escape censure for their own 
ignorance. For shame ; let none that have borne a book dispraise learning ; 
she hath enemies enough abroad, though she be justified of her cliildren at 
home. Let Barbary disgrace arts, not Athens. 

The Papists brag nmch of tlieir scholarship, though indeed all the salt of 
their learning cannot keep their doctrines from stinking. I should hardly 
be held an impartial judge, if I should censure them ; therefore I will be 
silent. Yet in one thing I cannot but commend them. They have one kind 
of learning beyond ours, and it consists in arguing ; their disputing is strong, 
victorious, and fall of desperate valour. That argument of his was but 
hereby : ' God rules the church triumphant in heaven ; therefore the Pope 
rules the church militant on earth ;' and so as once divlsum impei-inm cum 
Jove C(emr habd, — Ca\sar is half with Jupiter, — the Pope is joined purchaser 
with Christ ; but he will be sole possessor. This was but reasonably auda- 
cious, that holds from heaven to earth, from God to the Pope. They dis- 
pute with us yet stronglier ; by a demonstrative argument, quod ex veris 
primis sed 710/1 necessariis secundis consistit, — which consists of true prin- 
ciples, but not of necessary consequences ; a syllogism in Barbara, a very 
barbarous one. I will shew you how, as the JeNvs reasoned with Stephen : — 

Every blasphemer deserves to be stoned : 
But Stephen is a blasphemer : ergo, 
Stephen deserves to be stoned. 

Stephen grants the proposition that a blasphemer is worthy to be stoned ; 
but denies the assumption, and says, I am no blasidicmer, therefore not to 
be stoned. They prove it, take up stones, and knock him on the head — an 
invincible argument. So the Papists with us : — 

All heretics deserve to be burned : 
All the Protestants are heretics : ergo, 
All the Protestants deserve to be burned. 

We stand not much upon the major, but resolutely and truly deny the 
minor, and say. We are no heretics, therefore deserve not to be burned. 
They prove it ; tie us to strong stakes, lay ( 11 wood, put to fire, and burn us 
to ashes — an unanswerable syllogism. Yet we have answered it, and over- 
come it, et fortiores ignibus fadi sunt, — our martyrs were stronger iji faith 
than the fire in heat; and though, Lord, 'for thy sake we wtv killed all 
the day long, and counted as sheep for the .slaughter; yet hi all these things 
we were more than conquerors, through him that loved us,' Rom. viii. 36, 37. 
But otherwise for the substiuitial light of learning, our stars sh;dl compare 
with the stars of Rome ; yet, oh that there was no fault in us of ihis nature, 
worthy to be censured, deplored ! Take the district eye of a true-judging 
God, xai rrfog raZra. ri', ixcuc;! and 'who is sufficient for tliese things?' 
2 Cor. il 16. All our learning, dexterity, sincerity, diligence, comes short 
of the required perfection. Let us treasure up what we can, and produce it 
to the edification of others. Do we think it enough to have learning, and 
not to shine in this dark world ? They are strangp .stars that will give no 



458 HEAVEN AND EARTH RECONCILED. [SeRMON XXIV. 

light : if not here, then not hereafter. They are deep wells from which 
can be drawn no water, 2 Pet. ii. 17. 'Woe unto me, if I preach not the 
gospel !' If thou be called, and endued with answerable gifts, and wilt bury 
thy talent, Luke xix. 22, I need not tell thee the danger. I cannot say. Ex 
ore tuo, Out of thine own mouth, fjr thou sayest nothing; but, Ux silentio tuo, 
By thy silence, because thou sayest nothing, God will judge thee. If it may 
be said of him that would and cannot preach, He is a dumb dog, it may as 
fitly and justly be said of him that can and will not preach, that he is a dumb 
devil. It is not enough to wear a decent surplice, ifec, (though some out of 
their curiosity think that too much,) when the people's souls are starved for 
the bread of heaven. There be good injunctions for the comely ceremonies of 
the church, to preserve us in peace, in unity ; so also good orders for weekly 
sermons : hcecfecisse, ilia non omisisse justum est. 'These ought you to have 
done, and not to leave the former undone,' Luke xi. 42. Let not the first 
be true canons, whiles the latter are only pot-guns. 

A double beam, then, you must expect from your stars, your ministers — 
preaching and praising God, the means and the end ; both, I say, not one 
only. Some of you are all for prayers, and care for no preaching ; some all 
for preaching, and care for no praying ; if there be no sermon, they will sit 
still, and serve God at home, as if he had promised his presence to the 
chimney corner sooner than to the temple. Indeed saith St Paul, ' Despise 
not prophesying,' 1 Thess. v. 20 ; but, for aught I see, he allows nowhere 
the vilipending of public prayers, but rather seems to intimate, 'Magnify 
praising God,' for he prefixeth, if not preferreth, ' Pray continually,' and, ' In 
all things give thanks,' &c., ver. 17, 18, adding under them, and 'Despise 
not prophesying.' I speak it not to vilify preaching, so principally a neces- 
sary means for our salvation ; ' I would ye did all prophesy,' was the speech 
of Moses, Num. xi. 29, and Paul. Neither would I hearten the common 
disestimation and contempt of public prayers : both are necessary ; yet is the 
last best, if I be not deceived, so far as the end transcends the means. Your 
health is more precious than the physic that recovers you, though it come as 
far as the East. All our preaching labours and aims at this, to beget in 
you a knowledge and a conscience how to serve and praise God. Preach- 
ing is the work of our way ; praising God, of our country : in heaven there 
shall be no sermons, but even then hosannahs and hallelujahs. We shall 
spend the time, nay, that eternity, in praising our Creator, and Saviour, and 
Sanctifier, when there shall be none to preach to us. Love then preaching, 
and do not despise praying ; both are the lightful and delightful beams that 
come from your stars, your ministers. 

3. In situation, the stars are placed in their orb, and thereof being cir- 
cularly and regularljf carried, do finish their course in a determinate space of 
time. Philosophy saith, that the sun doth partly enlighten the stars of 
heaven. But divinity saith, the Sun of righteousness, Mai. iv., doth whoUy 
enlighten his stars of the church. The stars are placed high, the more com- 
modiously to shine to us. God hath put ministers in an eminent place, that 
their light might be more perspicuous. Candles once accensed, are not to be 
thrust into abstruse corners. If then Paul requires it of others, then much 
more of us that are stars, ' to have our conversation in heaven,' Phil. iii. 20. 
It is not required of the firmament to shine so bright as the stars : more 
holiness is expected of us than in the ordinary station of a Christian ; whiles 
other men's places are less notable, their vices are less notorious ; we nm 
not in a common line, Init are set forth as copies of sanctification ; every blot 
in us is so nmch more dangerous, as it is more observable ; every learner is 



DaX. XII. 3.] HEAVEN AXD EAETll RECONCILED. 459 

apt to tax ills precedent, if faulty ; Le hath need to be circumspect that 
saith to others, ' Be ye followers of me, and look on them that walk so as you 
have us for an cnsample,' Phil. iii. 17. We have all infinnitios, if not enor- 
mities; and let St Paul himself refer you to the most ab.solutc pattern, and 
reserve to your imitation certain limits: ' Follow me, as I follow Jesus Christ.' 
We must follow thee, O Saviour, and strive to be ' holy as thou art holy.* 

This is our seat, in heaven ; and we should be like the stars, if it were 
possible — free from elementary cormptions. To speak by rote of repentance, 
faith, new birth, is seldom profitable, when no such thing is felt in our own 
bosoms or manifested in our lives. We, rather, trust our health into those 
physicians' hands whose drugs have recovered themselves. If thou hast an 
angel's tongue, and a devil's heart, thou art no better than a post in the 
cross-way, that rots itself to direct others ; or a torch that, having pleasured 
others with the light, goes forth itself in smoke and stench. To speak weU 
and do ill, is to build up heaven with the voice, hell with the conversation : 
Sic dicamus, ut quce fuerunt verba, sint opera, — Let us so speak that those 
which have been our words may be our deeds. Indeed, it should be thus : 
Si bene dixerimiis, vestrum est, — If we have said well, it is your good ; Si 
bene vixerimus, nostrum est, — If we have done well, it is our own good. And 
for ministers' words, dicunt, qua; Dei smit, — they speak that which is God's : 
for their lives, faciunt qxice sua sunt, — they do that which is their own ; but 
our persons are in their sight, when our words are gone from their ears ; and 
withal — 

' Segnius irritant animos demissa per aures, 
Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus ; ' — * 

There is a quicker perspicuity in the eyes, and a better retention of the re- 
ceived object, than in the ears. The thunder first breaks the cloud, and lets 
forth the lightning ; yet is the latter seen before the former is heard. Hence 
it is that examples teach soonest : Longum iter per verba, breve et compendio- 
sum 2>er exempla,f — It is a long way by precepts, a short by examples. The 
force of a hundred good sermons is lost by one enormity ; so easy is it to 
weave Penelope's web. Let us, then, have some respect to our life as our 
doctrine. The credit is a thing next tender to the conscience, qua semel 
amissa, postea nullus eris, which once shipwrecked, thou art undone. It is 
a great difficulty to play an after-game of reputation. It was an excellent 
exhortation of Paul, 2 Tim. iv. 5, and implied no small difficulty to Timo- 
theus, 'Cause thy ministry to be throughly liked of;' adorn it with a pure 
and holy conversation. His charge was no less to Titus, chap. ii. 15, 'See 
that no man despise thee.' Say they did ; can Titus helj) that '] Paul's 
meaning is. Give just cause to no man to despise thee. Let them, then, mur- 
mur till their tongues are hoarse with contumelies, so long as thou canst 
applaud thyself in the conscience of thy wcU-deservings, and .say with that 
persecuted, maligned, reviled, yet holy Psalmist, ' Lord, thou knowest 
mine innocence.' Calumnies against the minister arc facile, frequent. If 
austere with John Baptist, they arc censured precise ; if sociable as Christ, 
dis.solute. Our merriment is thought madness, when others' miulness is but 
merriment. It is guiltiness enough to us to be but ill reported : they will 
believe a scandal raised against us .sooner than against a ruffian ; and what 
they dream is so, no arguments shall evade it. Men are glad of colour to 
despise us ; and great ones, at once to save their credits and their purses, 
pick quarrels with their minister. When all tricks fail to shake off him 
that hath earned thy love and boimty, this shall do it . accuse him to be 
• Horat. t Senea 



460 HEAVEX AND EARTH IlECONCILED. [SeEMON XXIY. 

tliine enemy, and so excuse thyself from being his friend. It is hard if the 
eye of malice cannot spy a mote in a black coat ; or at least, say it is a mote, 
though it be but a white one, a work of honest simplicity. I fear I am too 
plain with the times, that are so subtle with us. I comfort myself and ail 
my partners in this common misery, Male de me dicunt,sed malt, — They speak 
evil of me, but they are evil men, and would speak better of me if I were 
worse. It hurts not to have no grace of them that have no grace. Let us 
proceed in the integrity of our conscience, that ' when they speak evil of us, 
as of evil-doers, they may ' in the end ' be ashamed which slander our good 
conversation in Christ,' 1 Pet. iii. 16. Let us live well, the success to God ; 
a good word hath the time when to be sjjoken. There is a season to benefit, 
and a season to hurt by our speech ; therefore it is preposterous in men to 
be consonants when th^y should be mutes, and mutes when they should be 
consonants. But a good life is never out of season. A high place, and a 
low and base life, have no analogy or correspondence. Our seat is in heaven 
like stars ; let not our conversation be on earth like beasts. Other men's 
inditferences are our rank evils ; that which is scarce worth notice in others, 
in us is censured, taxed, condemned. — Tliis for the site. 

4. The motion is fourfold — circular, incessant, swift, orderly. 

(1.) Circular. The stars move roundly, according to their orbs. Our 
motion, that are ministers, is not unhke : a Deo ca^pimns, in Deo claudimus, 
— we begin from God, in God we end ; Jehovah called us, and we strive to 
bring souls to him. As we are pastors, we must compass about our flocks, 
as watchmen surround the city, to fortify the breach : ' Satan compasseth 
the earth,' by his own testimon}', Job i. ' The roarmg lion goeth about,' by 
the description of Peter, ' watching whom to dovour,' 1 Pet. v. 8. Let our 
diligence match his, with a saving intent, that the tempted may have our 
antidotes, the doubtful our counsels, the erring our convictions, and the 
languishing our encouragements. 

(2.) Incessant. Oar motion is without intermission ; for the adversary 
never gives truce, or admits conditions of peace, without his sensible advan- 
tage. Therefore our calling allows us no time to sit still and sing requiems 
to our souls under our fig-trees of peace. A soldier should die in the wars 
standing, and a minister in the pulpit preaching. It was the Lord of the 
vineyard's reproof, ' 'Why stand ye here all the day idle?' It is not per- 
nutted to us to stand stiU. What ! and all your day, and idle too ? Paul's 
example was other, and that excellent : ' I cease not to admonish every one 
night and day with tears,' Acts xx. 31. 'I ceased not,' ecce laborem, behold 
his labour ; ' to admonish,' ecce ojicium, behold his duty ; ' every one,' ecce 
amorem, behold his love ; ' night and day,' ecce vigilantiam, behold his 
watchfulness ; ' with tears,' ecce convpassionein, behold his pity. 

(3.) Swift and speedy. Nescit tarda molimina Spiritus, — The Holy Ghost 
cannot abide delays. We may give warning too late, when the enemy 
hath sur^jrised the city. It was the master of the feast's charge, Luke xiv. 
21, 'Go out quickly into the streets and lanes,' Ac. The angels are said to 
have wings for their speedier expedition of God's bests ; and ' cursed is he 
that doth God's business negligently,' says the prophet. Indeed we may run 
too fast when God sends us not. Jonah made preposterous haste Avhen he 
took Tarshish for Nineveh ; and they run curvo pede, with a swift, perhaps, 
but with no straight foot, that are in Moses's chair ere they be aware, and 
wonder too late how they came thither. I cannot call this motion speedy, 
but hasty ; and nruch haste is seldom encountered with good success. The 
stars move swiftly, but not madly. They that fly into the ministry without 



Dan. XII. 3.] hea.vkn and earth kecoxciled. 4G1 

viugs, run without leg3, — I mean, without knowledge, — move short of their 
own benefit, of others' expectation. The ck)uds pour down no rain till they 
have first sucked it up. Fra/mipera praxis, jira'jiostera lectio, — To practise 
first, study afterwards, is an ill habit in action, and no good figure in rhetoric. 
They that will so run that they may attain, have neither too many feet, nor 
too few. If they abound, as the monsters the sons of Anak, that had six 
toes on a foot, impediuntur necessariis aiixiliis, — their necessary helps are 
their hindrances. If they be defective, they can but limp. Tiicrcfore, in 
our motion, let zeal further discretion, that not too slow ; discretion mode- 
rate zeal, that not too fast : but having thy commission, and being i)laced by 
God in thy orb, be not uuwillhig to move. Practice is like a wheel, the more 
it is turned, the better it goes. 

(■i.) Orderly. We must keep, as the stars do, our known and equal dis- 
tance : it is not to thy praise to run into other orbs, desiring there osiendere, 
nay, ostentare Incem tuam, — to shew, yea, to boast thy light, with a proud 
conceit, to darken the star which God hath there placed. Such an emulation 
is odious ; and thou mayest flash out, like a meteor, for a time, but at last 
God will ask thee, ' \Yho sent thee thither 1 ' Let every star be loved of his 
o-rni orb, though ' one star differs from another star in glory,' 1 Cor. xv. 
Nothing better becomes us than order ; for our God is the God of order, 
and our ministry is called by the name of orders. Contention disables us, 
and enervates our ministry. So long as the water is stirred, the fisher can 
catch no fish. Love is the master-vein of the soul, and peace knits the 
joints, Eph. iv. 12. Are we called to put the luxate members of the body 
tif Christ into their places, and shall ourselves be disjointed ? Our peace is 
the milk of our land ; let not our strife, like rennet, turn it to curd. When 
tlie people were together by the cars, a fellow, as thick as long, got up into 
the theatre, and advancing himself, they began all to laugh. Go to, quoth 
he, laugh and spare not ; I have a wife at home rounder than myself ; (at 
this they laughed louder ;) yet when we agree, one bed can hold us ; when 
we are at variance, the whole house is too little for us. You can ap[)ly it. 

5. The last circumstance of our sunilitude to the stars consists in the 
effects. These are three : injliiendi, illuminandi, ornatti deledandi, — our 
influence, our light, our delight. 

First, Influence. Philosophy teacheth us, that the stars in elements, and 
elemental bodies, do stir up the first qualities, hot, cold, moist, and dry ; and 
cause other efl'ccts, serving to the inclination of man. Surely as we are 
stars, all the influence we can derive to men of ourselves is to incline them 
by our charity. This is no weak persuasion, but one of those three feedings ' 
that at least they expect. If they find not hospitality the porter at our 
gates, they straight censure us for dark stars. Many of our people liked 
I'opery well, for nothing else but because they were fatted with the super- 
fluities that fell from their libertine feasts. Now these that measure re- 
ligion by their bellies will be tempted witli handfuls of barley and morsels 
of bread to speak well of us. As the Jews once in the prophet, so the.se cry 
now% ' When we served the queen of heaven, and might pray to our lady, we 
had bread enough. Now they have i)leaded so hard for faith, they have for- 
gotten charity.' They say, we set faith at our own tables, but thrust charity 
out to dine with our servants. These are the scandalous clamours of their 
invincible ignorance, who, tus many of the Jews did Christ, follow the gosjjcl 
only for their bellies ; they consider not in whose liands abbeys, and monas- 
teries, and the best parsonages are. He was a friend to us that told the 
beggar, beating hard at the vicar's door for relief, that he knocked at the 



iG2 HEAVEN AND EARTH RECONCILED. [SeRMON XXIV. 

wrong door : Here dwells, quoth he, the spawn, but yonder the pickerel. The 
Pope and his heirs * have got all ; we have not the tenth of the tenth, the 
very interest left ; yet they claim as much of us as of them that have the 
principal. Well, our reward is in heaven ; let us give them what influence 
we can, and having fed their souls, spare also some relief to their bodies. 

Secnndly, Light. This the second effect, to enlighten them ; the substance 
and nature of a star hath already taught us this duty ; I will sparingly urge 
it. We illuminate them by speech, by conversation. Our doctrine is the 
light ; life, the lantern. If we carry the light without the lantern, the .wind 
of malice will strive to blow it out. He went not far from this allegory that 
prescribed a minister's duty, Tonare voce, fulminare vita,f — Our words, 
thunder ; our lives, lightning. If we be ligttful in preaching, darksome in 
living, we do, as it were, propound our doctrines as impossible to be kept. 
If we have knowing minds, and dissolute affections, it may be said of us, as 
of that stigmatic Eoman emperor, Galba, who was both deformed and witty, 
that a good instrument is put in an evil case. If we hve within compass, 
and say nothing, we have an orb and seem stars, but are none ; for God, 
sure, never placed stars in the firmament that give no light. Whether they 
be idle, or unable, like vEsop's hen, too fat to lay, they are but a burden to 
our orb, a disgrace to our church. Only do thou take heed (thy star not 
shining so bright as others) lest thy clouds darken it. The people's sins are 
not seldom the cause of the prophet's darkness ; to himself be his own negli- 
gence, ' He stands or falls to his own master.' Perhaps there is yet more in 
it than so ; God hath his special work in all events. It may be, in thy 
minister's insufficiency thy sin is plagued, and God strikes thee through him. 
This is no light, though insensible, stroke : thou hast slighted his sacred and 
majestical word ; behold, as to a swine unworthy of this pearl, he denies, 
Avithholds it. ' The prophet is a fool, the spiritual man is mad, for the 
multitude of thine iniquity,' Hos. ix. 7. Go, then, and bewail thy sins, and 
yviiy that ' the door of utterance may be opened to him,' Col. iv. 3, lest 
whiles he shines not, thou perish in darkness. 

Tliirdly, Delight. The stars are the grace of the sky ; so are ministers 
of the church, when they all move in peace and unity, orcline quisque sua, — 
every one in his own order. We often see the stars ; their contemplation, 
their benefit is never tedious : no more is the society of ministers, to them 
that desire to read in those books, the constellations of heaven, the mysteries 
of salvation, and to know how to govern their souls and their bodies. God 
gave man an upright countenance, directing his mind together with his looks 
to the stars ; erectos ad sidera tollere vidtus. Look on them which walk like 
us, saith St Paul, Phil. iii. 17; not as some star-gazers, that stare on us only 
to entrap us : to whom we reply, as Diogenes did to him that so subtlely 
disputed of the stars : ' How long is it since you came down from heaven ? ' 
Let them beware a success like Thales, who gazed so long at the stars above 
him, that he fell into the ditch below him. If, then, you look on us, keep 
the cripple's intent at the Beautiful gate of the temple : Acts iii. 5, G, ' Give 
heed to us, trusting to receive something of us ; ' and then, ' Though silver 
and gold we have none, yet what we have we give you : In the name, and by 
tlie virtue of Jesus Clirist of Nazareth,' better things are derived from us. 
Fables and toys content us with a transient glance — 

' Videtur 
Fabula, quae posci vult, et spectata reponi,' — 



For so are impropriators. t Greg. Naz. 



Dan. XII. 3.] HEAvt;N and eartu rulonciled. 463 

A fiible requires no more but to be seen and then thrown by. But here 
rion sutiatur oculus vim, — the eyes are not satisfied with seeing : such joy is 
the minister to the good man's soul, that he could be content to have him 
ever in his sight. 

You have heard how we are called stars ; I would direct the application of 
this to three sorts of people — patrons, laity, ministers. 

1. To speak much of patrons you will hold it frivolous : they hear not, 
being absent ; neither would they believe, being present. But let not sin be 
balked, though it be not by to answer for itself, ^lany of them care not 
whom they present, if his purse can speak learnedly, though his tongue 
ignorantly. Ignorance, superstition, and simony, were once jtroper to the 
Romish see ; I know not what unfortunate wind hath blown the last into 
our land, and defi.led the pure professors of reformation. But you will say, 
there is no simony wherein the minister is not one party. It is too true ; 
woe to us the whUe ! I mean not only the woe of misery, fatally forced on 
us by these evil days ; but the woe of judgment, which we voluntarily call 
on us by this wickedness. I will not speak to excuse us a toto, sed a tanto : 
durum telum, necessitas. You that are the donors have the things consecrated 
to piety and faith committed to you upon trust, and you have sworn it a law in 
your bosoms, which you more strictly observe than the law of your !Maker, that 
we shall buy them at your hands or go without them. Chri.st threw out of the 
temple, not oiUy the buyers, but — let me say rather — the sellers : and though 
the law of the land makes you not pares poena, equal with us in the punish- 
ment, yet the law of heaven shall find you pares culpa, in equal fault. I think 
I might boldly say, under correction, you are in greater damnation ; as it had 
Ix'cn more heinous in St Peter to exact money of Magus than in Magus to offer 
it. The reason is impregnable : you sin through a voluntary covetousness, we 
through extreme necessity ; being constrained either to beg with our families, 
or study evasions for so strict and religious a law. If we therefore be con- 
demned as simonists, your easiest censure is to be esteemed infidels. 

Methinks I hear them reply. There is enough left to satisfy all, if there 
might be an equal division ; but some have all, some nothing. To whom I 
Avill but report the answer of a grave divine ; ' Thus their fathers have played 
the thieves, and they come to compound the matter.' If we speak of this, 
we are censured for covetous, but how lewdly? Is this covetise, to desire 
our own 1 I say not the church's superfluities, which they called once bona 
pauperum, the goods of the poor ; but even the church's necessaries, which 
are bona Christi, the goods of Christ ; which now laid possident, profane 
men enjoy : for gentlemen have cut out their gallant suits out of the church's 
broadcloth, and left the church herself nothing but mere shreds. Shall I 
say, Who have more done it than they that stand so for the beauty of the 
church ? None more deface it than they that most pretend to adorn and 
polish it. Let them und(^ two or three ministers by their impropriations, and 
they will reward one (of their own humour) with the plasters of their bounty. 
Such corrupted patrons are of Dion}sius's mind, that robbed his god of his 
golden coat, as more fit for himself They say, Nero and Agrippa came into 
the world with their feet forward ; and what monsters proved they 1 Sure, 
never worse to the con)monwealth of Bouic than simoniacal patrons to the 
church of England. Well, if bribery, fraud, simony, will not carry them to 
hell, let them hope still to be .saved ; but (I would they heard me !) if they be 
saved so living, and so dying, there is hope for the devil to be saved. It is 
granted sin, but they may repent : true, but did ever man repent that, having 
time and means, could and would not restore ? Let them restore their ex- 



4G-i HEAVEN AND EARTH RECONCILED, [SeRMON XXIV. 

torted money they have cruelly gotten by simoniacal contracts, to the poor 
minister, or if he be dead, to his wife and children ; or I will sooner believe 
that Judas repented. Judas restored, yet repented not truly ; and shall they 
repent truly that restore not 1 Let them brag of their gains, that have thus 
cozened God, the church, their own souls. If ever they come with simony 
on their backs into heaven, I may be of the Indian's mind, who dying under 
the Spanish cruelty, and admonished to prepare for heaven and to escape hell, 
asked to what place the Spaniards went. They answered, to heaven. Then, 
quoth the Indian, let me never come there. For surely simonists and 
honest men do not belong to one house. There are three Fs in a line of rela- 
tion — patrons, priests, people. Two of these Fs are made lean to make one 
P fat. Priests have lean livings, people lean souls, to make patrons have fat 
purses. I accuse not all in general, no one in particular, namque mihi nee 
equos, mihi nee rapuere juvencos ; but 'for Zion's sake I cannot hold my 
peace,' Isa. Ixii. 1, which is so sick of this disease, that she lies at the mercy 
of God for recovery. 

2. Let me speak yet more particularly to you, over whom God hath placed 
a minister as a star, ' despise him not' at your peril ; yoli despise God him- 
self, and shall not go scot-free : on your souls be it, that hear me this day, 
whose table-talk is furnished up with jests, with invectives against ministers. 
Whatsoever thou art, God hath honoured the poorest minister above thee, 
and taken him as worthy to serve at his own table, but not thee, nor thy 
father s house. Were his head gold, his treasure richer than Hezekiah's, and 
every room in his house better furnished than Solomon's, he may stand in 
need of the minister : as great a potentate as Pharaoh was, and as despicable 
as he thought Moses, yet his courtiers often heard him, ' Send for Moses :' 
so was Themistoclcs ever banished in peace, but sent for home in war. We 
are passed over in the days of pride, as superfluous creatures of whom no 
use ; but when the wrath of God falls on the naked conscience, then the 
minister is thought on ; and the soul receives some comfort, whiles he feels 
the sick-beating pulse, or leans on the groaning pillow, speaking from us to 
heaven the humble devotions of a penitent heart, and from heaven to us the 
comfortable things of Zion, and the never-failing mercies of a tender Saviour. 
Thus, like some fruit-trees, in fair weather you throw cudgels at us ; in 
foul, run to us for shelter. 

I will not speak affirmatively to you, in these rotted days of ours, wherein 
nothing but privations are in force and frequent. Despise not, afflict not, 
impoverish not your stars ; I will not say magnify, bless, enrich them, because 
I cannot hope it : yet, oh, for shame, do not their contraries ! 

First, Despise not. Why should I entreat this 1 We might imitate the 
fashion, spernere se sperni, — scorn them that scom us ; but I persuade you 
for your own sakes, since it is not possible you should honour the message of 
God, and despise him that God hath chosen to bring it. We shaU be your 
good ministers till unpleasing things drop from us, and then farewell good 
conceit ; as Tcrtullian spake merrily of the heathen : ' Unless God please 
man, he shall be God no longer. Now man must be propitious to God.'* 
Ilc])roofs are good physic, though not so well relished. Indulgence is sweet, 
and you may think it better cheer ; but you will not be well after it. In 
these misjudging days, it is exceeding hard to overreach the devil : if we let 
sin alone, his kingdom flourisheth ; if we strike at him, and hit not the 
bough he sits on, we move him not ; if we do, we are judged partial, per- 

* * Nisi hoinini Deus placucrit, Deus non erit : homo jam Deo propitius esse deberet,' 
—TcrU 



Dan. XII. 3.] heaven and earth reconciled. 4G.5 

sonal, and wrcakors of our own spleen. There is scarce a man that can read 
English, scarce a woman that can make herself ready to church, but will pre- 
sume to teach the minister ; and either we must preach what you will hear, 
or you will not hear what we preach. In Heliogabalus'.s time, there was a 
senate of women : we have also such convocations ; they consulted about 
tires, ours about religion. Let us take heed, it is one of the devil's subtlest 
and shrewdest tricks, to make us so zeaJ.ous in religion that we grow wanton ; 
and this sin is so much the 'more dangerous, as it endures not the re[)roving. 
Thus if a holy impatience arm the minister's tongue to speak too smart 
against your sins, he is straight said to rage : so Shemaiah said of Jeremiah, 
Jehu of Elisha, the Jews of Christ, and the GentUes of Paul. Of those that 
never will be sober, we are called bedlams. But St Augustine well clears 
this, under the person of David, Insanire videbatur, sed regi Achis insanire 
videbatur, id est, stultis et ignorantibtts, — David seemed mad, but he seemed 
so to King Achish. We are called madmen, but of none save madmen. 
Their common exceptions against us, and contempts of us, are these four : — 
(1.) They say, we are men ; why doth not God send by worthier messengers, 
as by angels ? They had best teach him : ' Send by whom thou shouldest 
send,' Exod. iv. 13, (2.) They say, we are simple men: as the apostles were 
fishermen, and ^Vmos a herdman. Gallants scorn that a clown should teach 
them their duties. They call us idiots, iunocents, ax«jco/. The word signi- 
fies such as do no hurt, but taken for fools, that do neither good nor harm. 
(3.) They say, we die like men; we can neither keep ourselves from sin, nor 
our bodies from death. (4.) They say, all we say is but words. So Gallio 
called the gospel ' a question of words,' Acts xviii. 15. I answer — 

(1.) Men indeed; — but men of God : so were the prophets received and 
called ; and, ' Let a man so think of us as of the ministers of Christ,' 1 Cor. 
iv. L We are intelligent creatures by nature, but of divine understand- 
ing by grace : ' The things which no eye hath seen,' &:c., ' hath God's Spirit 
revealed to us,' 1 Cor. ii. 10. ' Surely the Lord will do nothing, but he re- 
vealeth his secrets to his servants the prophets,' Amos iii. 7. Thou braggest 
thou hast two eyes as well as thy minister : thou hast indeed — one eye of 
nature, and that is nequam, a wicked one; another of reason, and that is 
necquicquam, a blind one ; the one naught, the other naughty ; and standest 
in need of the minister's eye to guide thee. Thou demandest a wortliier 
messenger ; but when God spake to Israel in thunder, when by angels, they 
cried, ' Oh, let man speak to us, lest we perish.' If an angel or a man say, 
' Christ is born,' it is not more true in the angel than in the man. 

(2.) Simple men ; — yet is the word powerful. The Jews thought they 
knew Christ and his breeding : ' Is not this the carpenter's son ? ' Yet, ' he 
taught as one having authority, not as the verbal scribes,' Matt. vii. 29. 
You think it shame enough, and extreme disgrace against us, to say you 
know our beginnings : yet is God able to tuni the proudest of you, by the 
simplest of us ; or if not convert, as the savour of life, yet convince, as the 
savour of death, and make your vuUimus to that common jailor, ' deliver 
your incorrigible souls to Satan,' 1 Cor, v. 5 ; for whom we ' bind on earth 
are bound in heaven.' 

(3.) We die like men; — but our words live. The prophets told the Jews, 
that they should go into Babylon ciiptivcs : ' Tlie high places of Isajic sh;dl 
be desolate, and the temples of Israel destroyed,' ic, Amos vii. 9. Behold, 
the prophets die, but their words live. ' Judah is carried away captive, she 
dwcllcth among the heathen,' Lam. i. 3. And ' by tlie rivers of Babel, 
they sit and weep when they remember Zion,' I's. cxxxvii. 1. So we de- 
VOL. L 2 r; 



466 HEAVEN AND EARTH RECONCILED. [SeRMON XXIV. 

nounce the jiulgmcnts of God .against the obstinate, and tell the usurer, 
maugre his pile of bonds, heap of pawns, bags of coin, mortgages of lands, 
that his seed shall inherit the wind, and his hoards are no other than the 
gathering of the clouds, which once full, promise the dispersion of the 
greater showers. Behold, we arc laid low in our graves, yet our sayings have 
their timely proofs, the seed of the covetous come to ruin. Behold the riot- 
ous heir, sick and diseased through his intemperance, his intemperance bred 
of the fulness of his state, his full estate begot by his father's parsimony, 
miserableness, nay, perhaps, injustice. Behold (I say) this man glad of a 
room in the hospital for necessity, which his father built of his superfluity. 
Thus the word we preach passeth not, but is more immortal than the 
heaven. 

(4.) All we say is but words, mere talk ; — so you may contemn all the 
works of God, and say it was but talk that made the world ; for, ' by hia 
word he made it,' John i. 1. This is a common slander when the hell- 
hound (the covetous wretch) pincheth on the priest's side : ' No matter, let 
him talk for his Hving.' Yes, and have none. The time may come, if they 
call it talking, they may talk for mercy too, and have none. If they call 
God's speaking to them talking, what is their speaking to God ? There is dif- 
ference betwixt spealdng, talking, and saying : speaking comes by nature, talk- 
ing by custom, saying by art. Children speak, fools talk, learned meii say. 
All that have the organs of voice can speak and talk, but not say. Solius est 
oratoris dicere, vulgi loqui. TuUy could affirm it, that an orator only says ; 
the common people talk.* Our preaching is not then talking, but saying, 
a sententious and deliberate speech, uttered to purpose, composed by study 
and the direction of God's Holy Spirit, who with our words worketh deeds, 
shutting where we shut, and opening where we have opened. 

Secondly, Aiflict not. Is this possible % Can lambs be among wolves, and 
not be bitten % Ecce niitio vos, tire, — ' Behold, I send you as lambs among 
wolves : ' he said so, that foreknew our usage. Amara est Veritas, et qui earn 
prcedicat repletur amaritudine, — Bitter is the truth, and he that preaclieth 
it shall be filled with bitterness. The cause of the world's hatred of Christ, 
John vii. 7, is ort kych /xa^Tuou, ' because I witness against it that the works 
thereof are evil' It is written of the Christians in the life of Nero, that 
they preserved the state ; yet dogs must devour them : they made Aurelius's 
army to prosper, and by their prayers obtained thunder to desti-oy the 
enemies ; yet Christianos ad leones, — Throw the Christians to the lions. It 
hath ever been the poesy of the church, facere honum, et habere malum, 
— to do good, and to suffer evil. So Christ himself sped : he healed, and 
was hurt ; he pitied, and was mocked ; he saved others, himself was 
killed. The colour of our livery on earth is either black, mourning ; or 
red, persecuted. The arms of the church is the cross, and her perpetual 
song in her militant state, like that 0})presscd servant' s,t (dX'/i3o/Mai, ':^Xi:3o/Mai, 
' I suffer, I suffer.' This is Christ's dish, and the apostles' sauce. Behold, 
O minister, the strait thou art in ; neither wonder, nor weep, nor faint : this 
thou mightest have prevented, by keeping out; it cannot be avoided, now 
thou art in. If we do our duty, the world AviU hate ; if not, God will 
curse us : by the first we are in danger to lose our goods, good names, lives ; 
by the second, our souls, our heaven, our God, 

' At pretium pars hsoc corpore majus habct.' 

Our worldly losses may be dear to us, yet dross, and trash, and rubbish, in 

* Cicer. Orat. : — ' Satis loqueutiic, eloquentia; parum.' f Ai'istoi)h. 



D.V2f. XII. 3.] HEAVEN AND E.VRTU RECONCILED. 4G7 

regard of God and bliss. Woe unto us that suffer ; more woe to you tliat 
make us. 

Thirdly, Impoveiish not. I do not say, make us rich by your own 
poverty, as your progenitors did by our predecessors; but at least give us 
our own. The old Pharisee was an honest man in this, for he thought it a 
true position, Decii/ut ut dives Jias, — Tithe, and be rich : but we think, titlie, 
and be poor. And to ' communicate with our teacher in all our goods,' is 
not Scripture, though Paul himself speak it, Gal. \'i. G. Competency will 
serve; they are wiser than God. Their competencies have brought us to im- 
potencies. A stool, a cruise, and a candlestick, and a small room, are super- 
abundance for a priest. We need not, with that order of the Popish priests, 
puU on ourselves a voluntary beggary, for gentlemen (we thank them for it) 
have enforced us to it ou necessity. I wiU not dispute whether tithes be 
due to us Jure divino, by the law of God ; or whether the withholders como 
witliin the compass of that curse, ' Ye arc cursed with a curse, because ye 
have spoiled me in tithes and offerings,' Mai. iii. 8, 9 ; since the law pre- 
sent allows no power to sue such, on an action of detiny. To omit that 'Mel- 
chizedek had tithes, and that of Abraham ; and even by the law of nature, 
besides the Levitical of the Jews, which they say is abrogated, that would 
say no less of the moral law of God, for an advantage : yet Paul's h 'za<ji* 
ayctdoTg, ' in aU his goods,' Gal. vi. 6, must needs evince, that the minister 
must have some share in his people's substance. If any, why not that por- 
tion which in all ages and churches hath been given them 1 If they be 
consecrated to Jesus Christ, I say not by bUnded superstition, but by true 
and warrantable devotion, before the Pope ever put out his apparent horns, 
who dares rob our 8a-\-iour of them, that never passed fine of his royal pre- 
rogative to any purchaser I If they were his, whose are they ? Let them 
prove he hath assigned them to gentlemen, and I wiU clear them from that 
menace of Solomon, Prov. xx. 25, ' It is a destruction to devour holy things,' 
&c. Ministers were once held angels ; now, unless they do bring angels in 
their piurses, ibis Homere foras ; for all their music they are shut out of doors. 
They say, the Italian ducats make their priests duces, princes, captains, brave 
fellows. The Spanish 2)istolets make their priests terrors to be feared, the 
word signifying tormenti [jenus, a kind of torment ; witness the Inquisition. 
The French crowns crown their priests with wealth and dignity ; but ange- 
loi-UTti Anglicorum, the want of English angels leaves our ministry m the 
dust. The words of so reverend and honourable a prelate * come here to my 
mind : ' Time was, religion did eat up policy, and the church devoured the 
commonwealth ; but now policy eats up religion, and the commonwealth de- 
vours the church.' Men are professed politicians : Floreat res/nil/lica, copiis 
rejh-ta, itc, et quid ad 7ios ?f — Let the commonwealth prosper, and what 
care we for the church ? If we had no souls, this might be some shadow of 
equity ; but seeing we have, it is tlie substance of rank impiety. 

And let me say, if men would imagine and plot a course to lose the souls 
that Christ hath bought, they could not find a directer. For if learning beg, 
study arts that list, will be the general voice : ' If there be none to preach, 
there will be no believing ; if no believing, no saving,' Rom. x. Never plead 
your faith in the gospel, whiles you reward it not. Perhaps you can afford 
desert some bare and naked commendations; but we are not chameleons, to 
live on the air of commendations. It is certain and invincible truth, not 
relieve the gospel, not believe the gospel God grant that our corruptions 

* Lord Bishop of London, in his lectures on Jonah, 
t Aug. de Civit. Dei, lib. ii., cap. li. 



468 HEAVEN AND EARTH RECONCILED. [SeRMON XXIV, 

this way bring not paganism, and fiat atheism in the end ! Needs must 
you lose con et sci, devotion and knowledge, when you take from us entia, 
our livings. It is a shame that we should cease studying of sermons, and 
be driven to study for bread to put in our mouths, and the mouths of our 
families. It was a sin in the old law to destroy matreni cuinMHs, — the old 
with the young ; and can it be less in conscience to pine to death those two 
fruitful mothers, the Universities, and starve the children in their bosoms ? 
At which two fountains of learning, before we are suffered to druik, how 
many miserable and weary a day do we pass over in the inferior schools ! 
Then, not without much pain to ourselves, cost to our parents, we are sent to 
one of those glorious suns, to ripen our buds ; the exhibition they there allow 
us, they charge us to take for our patrimony, to expect no further means at 
their hands. We restrain our thoughts, I say, not only from pleasure, 
(whereof to have no* small measure is some unhappiness under the sun,) 
but even from competent experience in the world, who had need be wise as 
serpents in these Machiavellian days. We subject our bodies to many dis- 
eases, and groan out our remaining days under the burden of some wasting 
sickness ; at last, crura thymo i^lena, having stored ourselves Avith the riches 
of art, we come into our country to exchange them for their riches of earth ; 
and yet how unworthy a thing is it, coelestibus mercari terrena, to buy cor- 
poral things with spiritual, and chop heaven for earth 1 After all this, how 
hardly is anything attained, without paying to the patron, either a fine, or 
an annual rent, or reservation of his own tithes, or (some way) above the rate 
of a copyhold, to have a lease during a sickly and spent life ! Were the goods 
of the church for this entrusted to gentlemen and lords of the manors, that 
they should set them to sale, and turn the benefits into their ovm purses ? 
Why were not the donations in the hands of the poor, who have more need ? 
It is supposed, gentlemen by nurture well instructed can make the fittest 
choice for God's glory, and for their private gain. Must we then run, per 
varios casus, per tot discrimina rerum, — through so many dangers, and difti- 
culties, and troubles, and in the end arrive at beggars' haven, a necessary 
and enforced penury? Oh ! invitatus ad hcec, aliquis de ponte nega.bit,f — a 
beggar in the highway will in the end scorn to be a minister. There is no 
vocation in the land (honest in itself, and industriously followed by the pro- 
fessor) wherein a man may not live well, except only in the ministry ; and 
here, like the Jews under the tyranny of Egypt, when we should make briclc, 
(work in our profession,) we are forced to gather straw, (labour for sustenance.) 
But in vain we speak ; the sons of Zeruiah will be too hard for us. There 
is small hope to stanch this bloody issue till Christ touch their hearts by 
faith. But you will say, many of the clergy are rich. They are few ; if any, 
one of these four sorts : — (1.) Either enriched by some patrimony, or gift of 
friends. (2.) Or else such as distil a dry rose-cake for water ; I mean by 
parsimony and miscrableness, get something out of gentlemen's leavings, like 
the gleaning after the vintage, for others carry away the croj). (3.) Or else 
such as have lighted on the unruined things of this land, which stood out 
of the Pope's way, and in that sickness of superstition, scaped the plague of 
impropriation; benefices which the devil's surgeon, sacrilege, hath not let 
blood, by custom, composition, enclosing, depopulation. ' Though the grape- 
gatherers come, would they not leave some grapes ? if thieves come in the 
night, they will but destroy till they have enough,' Jer. xlix. 9. (4.) Or, 
lastly, they are those anU'qui heroes, nati melioribus annis, that came to their 
livings when that good Queen Elizabeth came to her crown ; at which time 
• Qu. sn i —Ed. t Juven. 



Dan. XII. 3.] heaven and earth reconcil;:.d. 4C9 

benefices went a-begging, as ministers do now. As for the rest, that have 
livings, they are scarce live-ones, or enough tu keep themselves and their 
families living ; and for those that have none, they may make themselves 
merry with their learumg if they have no money : for they that bought the 
patronages must needs sell the presentations, — vendere jure ixjtest, emend ille 
pnm ; and then if Balaam's ass hath but an audible voice, and a sokibie purse, 
he shall be preferred before his master, were he ten prophets. If tliis weather 
hold, Julian need not send learning into exile, for no parent will be so irre- 
ligious as with great expenses to bring up his child at once to misery and 
sin. Oh, think of this, if your impudence have left any blood of shame in 
your faces ; cannot you spare out of all your riot some crumbs of liberality 
to the poor, needy, and neglected gospel ? Shall the Papists so outbid us, 
and in the view of their prodigality, laugh our miserableness to scorn ? Shall 
they twit us, that our Our Father hath taken from the church what their 
Fateinioster bestowed on it 1 Shall they bid us bate of our faith, and better 
our charity ? Indeed, where heard you of a Papist that cuts short his minis- 
ter '? where see you a Protestant that doth not 1 I speak not to commend 
the religion of the Papist above the others, no more than Christ preferred 
the reUgion of the Samaritan to the priests and Levites, when he praised his 
charity ; but to apply that to us which Christ once to the Jews, ' Tyre and 
Sidou shaU condemn you.' So the Papists shall judge us. The Papist 
comes with Omnia dabo to his priest, — I will give aU ; the Protestant with 
Omnia eripiam, — I will take aw«,y all. Do the Alps bar up ;ill reward from 
us ? Cannot bounty creep over those frozen threshholds 1 Flere licet, re- 
parare vetatur. 

I may perhaps be censured, to speak so home, in the respect of some par- 
ticular advantage ; and losers may have leave to speak. I confess, it would 
be a joyful day to me to see the breaches of Jerusalem made up again ; yet 
He is my \\itness that doth now search, and shall hereafter judge all hearts, 
that the present theme, the wants of the church, the poverty of ministers, 
and the hard hearts of their oppressors, together Tvdth the commiseration of 
the students yet unborn, that shall feel this burden heavier as the world gi'ows, 
at once and inseparably more old, more covetous, have been occasions only 
to induce this speech. For I not without cause fear that, a.s we may say of 
the church in this our age, Omnia ad ruinam, — AU things are going to ruin \ 
so our children in the next generation may justly cry with the poet, Etiam 
periere ruince, — Even the very ruins are ruined. Though I cannot but hope, 
that so long as our royal and religious Jacob, (whose days God make as the 
days of heaven !) and his seed shall bear rule in our Judah, he and they will 
make good that deserved title, and be ' defenders of the faith,' and not give 
leave and authority to any violence further to forage the church. God also 
put into his subjects' hearts to love the gospel, and then it shall not decay 
for want of encouragement and reward. But for the detainers of the poor 
ministers' right, let them hear their reward : ' Woe to hinx that heapeth up 
that which is none of his!' You that have taken away the unction, and left 
us nothing but the alabaster-box, the shreds, the sherds, the scrapings of 
our own, as happy and rich as you think yourselves, when you have summed 
up your gains and cast your accounts at the end, if ever you be the richer 
for that you have stolen from your stars, let me come a-begging to your 
doors. Judas sold his Master for thirty pence : he might put his gahis in 
his eye ; his losses stuck by him when his money was gone ; he lost a God, 
a heaven, a soul, but he threw away his cash. Take heed, lest you cry one 
day with him, ' We and our extortions are both perished.' Remember you 



470 HEAVEN AND EAETH RECONCILED. [SeEMON XXIV. 

must give account of your stewardships ; a fearful bill of reckoning that 
many shall put up at that day to God : Item, so many scores of pounds in 
malice and siuts at law. Itevi, so many hundreds of pounds spent in lusts 
and vanities. Item, so many thousands in building Eglon's parlours. Item, 
to the poor in a year, threepence. Item, to the minister, just nothing. No- 
thing to God; and nothing from God shall be your reward. 

3. Let me end with ourselves, and all to comfort : Ploramus nostris non 
respondere favm'em speratum mentis, — We lament on earth the iU success 
and worse reward of our labours ; but, sat erit meriikse, it is enough that we 
have deserved. As dark as the world keeps us and thinks us, ' we shall 
shine;' and that with no ordinary glory, but ' as the stars;' and this not for 
a time, but ' for ever and ever.' If I had been in heaven, I would describe 
this glory to you, * You shall shine.' I would shew you the differences of 
glory which are here implied : good men shall shine ' as the firmament,' 
but good ministers 'as the stars.' If I be not deceived, the stars have a 
brighter glory than the firmament. Lastly, if I had ascended above the 
wheel of time, where nothing but eternity dwelleth, I would strive to 
make you conceive the length of your glory, 'for ever and ever;' but hc^c 
meditcmda potius quam dicenda, — your meditations are better able to con- 
ceive these things than my weak tongue to express. And so I cease to speak 
of that which you shall never cease to enjoy, ending my sermon, not my 
text, and commending you to the Father of peace ; who, as he hath called 
us to so troublesome an office for a time, will reward us with glory beyond 
all time, even for ever and ever. This God grant for his mercies' sake, 
Jesus Christ for his merits' sake, the Holy Ghost for his name's sake ; to 
whom, with, and from whom, be all glory, honour, and praise, now and for 
ever ! Amen. 



THE SOUL'S SICKNESS: 

A DISCOUESE-DIVINE, MORAL, AND PHYSICAL. 



The Induction. — The sickness of this world is epidemical, and hath with the 
invisible poison of a general pestilence infected it to the heart. For vice in 
manners, as heresy in doctrine, distilleth insensible contagion into the 
fountain of life ; and dum iinum interjicit, centum alloa inficit, in killing one, 
banes many. Whether ex dcemonis injuria, vel ex Jiominis incuna, from the 
devil's malice or man's secureness, iniquity is grown from a mist to a mystery, 
2 Thess. ii. 7, ignorance to arrogance, nescience to negligence, simple impru- 
dence to politic impudence ; and, I know not how, too much light liatli made 
men blind. At first they knew not when they sinned, now they would know to 
justify their sins : they defend that wherein they offend, and buy sickness with 
as great expense of time, wit, money, as the anguished atheist would health. 

Sicknesses in men's souls are bred like diseases in natural, or corruptions 
in civil bodies ; with so insen.sib]e a progress, that they are not discerned till 
they be almost desperate. As the frantic endures not bonds, nor the lethar- 
gical noise ; or as it was once said of the Romans, that they could neither 
endure an ill emperor nor obey, a good one : so we may say of ourselves, (no 
less than Livy of that state,) AVc vitia nostra, iiec remedia ferre possuinus, — 
We can better brook our maladies than our remedies. There Is, say physi- 
cians, no perfect health in this world ; and man, when he is at best, enjoys 
but a neutraUty. I'ut the physicians of the soul complain further, Isa. Ixiv. 
G, * That we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as 
filthy rags,' <tc. ; ' And in many thhigs we sin all,' James iii. 2. We may 
say with the prophet, Isa. i. 5, 6, not so much for our punishments as oiu" 
sins, * The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint. From the sole of 
the foot even unto the head there is no soundness in it ; but wounds, and 
bruises, and putrefying sores.' 

The Method. — To pursue this argument, I would willingly dispose the 
tenor of my speech into this method : — I. To describe the disease ; II. To 
ascribe the signs ; III. To prescribe the remedy. And whereas pliysicians 
begin their medicinal institutions or instructions at the head, as the most 
noble part of the body, the principal seat of the wit.s, the beginning of all 
tlie organiciil senses, and the i»roper house and habitation of the aninial vir- 
tue, (though philo.sopliy attributes that supereminent dignity to the heart,) 
and I (for metaphors sake) without contention suffer myself to be led after 



472 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXV. 

their rule ; behold, I apply to the head first : which if I could cure, I could 
more easily discern the infirmities of the descending parts. In the head and 
other corporal parts there are many diseases, which I will not contend to 
find out ; desiring only to slay, not all, but enough. I will borrow so much 
timber out of Galen's wood, as shall serve me for a scafi"old to build up my 
moral discourse. 

Disease 1 : Headache and Brain-sickness. — Headache is diverse, say 
physicians, according to the causes : proceeding sOme of cold, some of hot ; 
of dryness, of moisture, of blood, of clioler, of phlegm, windiness, drunken- 
ness, of an offending stomach. There is a headache called the megrim, 
Jiemicrania, possessing lightly one side of the head, and distinguished by a 
seam that runs along in the skull. There is a disease in the soul not unlike 
this, and they that labour of it are called brain-sick men. They may have 
some pretty understanding in part of their heads, but the other part is 
strangely sick of crotchets, singularities, and toyish inventions ; wherein 
because they frolic themselves, they think all the world fools that admire 
them not. They are ever troubling themselves with unnecessary thoughtful- 
ness of long or short, white or black, round or square ; confounding their 
wits with geometrical dimensions, and studjdng of measure out of measure. 
A square cap on another man's head puts their head out of square, and 
they turn their brains into cotton with storming against a garment of linen. 
New Albutii, to moot the reasons, why if a cup fell down it brake ; if a 
sponge, it brake not ; why eagles fly, and not elephants. There be such stu- 
dents in the schools of Rome : what shall be done with an ass, if he get into 
the church, to the font uncovered, and drink the water of baptism. Upon 
the strange hap of a clerk's negligence, and a thirsty ass's entering the 
church, which are uncertain, they make themselves asses in certain. Or if 
a hungry mouse filch the body of our Lord, &c. Brave wits to invent 
mouse-traps. These curiosities in human, but much more in divine things, 
prove men brain-sick. 

The cause of the megrim is the ascending of many vaporous humours, 
hot or cold, by the veins or arteries. The cause of this spiritual megrim, or 
brain-sickness, is the unkindly concurrence of ignorance, arrogance, and 
affectation, like foggy clouds, obscuring and smothering the true light of 
their sober judgments ; and bearing their affections like a violent wind upon 
one only point of the compass, new-fangled opinion. Lilie the giant's son, 
they must have six toes on a foot : they hate not to be observed, and had 
rather be notorious than not notable. Opinion is a foot too much, which 
spoils the verse. New physic may be better than old, so may new philoso- 
phy ; our studies, observation, and experience perfecting theirs ; beginning, 
not at the Gamoth, as they did, but, as it were, at the Ela : * but hardly 
new divinity ; not that an ancient error should be brought out against a new 
truth. A new truth ! Nay, an old newly come to light ; for error cannot 
wage antiquity with truth. His desire is to be cross to regularity ; and 
should he be enjoined a hat, a cap would extremely please him ; were he 
confined to extem])oral and enthusiastical labours, he would commend pre- 
meditation and study, which now he abhors, because they are put on him. 
He is unwise in being so bitter against ceremonies ; for therein he is pal- 
pably against himself, himself being nothing else but ceremony. He loves 
not the beaten path ; and because every fool, saith he, enters at the gate, he 
ifill climb over the wall. Whiles the door of the church stands open, he 

* The lowest and the highest notes respectively in Guido's musical scale. See 
Hawkins' ' History of Music,' vol. i., p. 437. — Ed. 



Sekmon XXV.] TUE soul's sickness. 473 

contends to creep through the ^N-indow, John x. 1. The brain-sick are no 
less than drunk with opinion ; and that so strangely, that sleep, which helps 
other drunkards, duth them no good. Their ambitious singularity is often 
so violent that il" it be not restrained it grows to a kind of frenzy, and so the 
megrim turns into the staggers. Herein, because we will not credit their 
positions, nor receive their crotchets in our set music, they reel into the Low 
Countries. 

Physicians say of the megrun-aflfected, that, in the violent fit of the passion, 
they can abide — (1.) No noise or loud speech ; (2.) Not clear light ; (3.) Not 
to drink wine; (-4.) Nor almost to move at all, &c. Our brain-sick novelist is 
described by such tokens. 

(1.) Loud speech he loves not, except from his own lips. All noise is 
tedious to him but his own ; and that is most tedious to the company. He 
loves to hear himself talk out of measure. He wonders that the senses of 
all his hearers do not get up into their ears, to watch and catch his mysteries 
with attention and silence ; whenas yet himself is more non-resident from 
his theme than a discontinuer is from his charge. 

(2.) The clear light he cannot endure, for his brain is too Ught already. 
He 1 (resumes that his head contains more knowledge than ten bishops ; and 
wonders that the church was so overseen as to forget him when oflBccs were 
dis})osing, or places a-dealing ; and because he can get none, rails at all for 
antichristian. He is the only wise man, if he might teach all men to judge 
him as he judgeth himself ; and no star .should shine in our orb without 
borrowing some of his light. He offers to reform that man that would in- 
form him ; and presumes so much of light, that if himself were set, our 
world would be left without a sun. 

(3.) Wine he hates, specially when it is poured into his wounds; as the 
fathers interpret the Samaritan's wine to the wounded man, to cleanse and 
purge him. Reproof and he are utter enemies ; no man is good enough to 
chide him : wholesome counsel, which is indeed wine to a weak soul, he 
accounts vinegar ; nothing so pleascth him as his own lees. Opinion hath 
brewed him ill, and he is like water scared out of the wits. 

(4.) He must not be moved, nor removed, from what he holds : his will is 
like the Persian law, unalterable. You may move him to choler, not to 
knowledge ; his brain is turned, Uke a bell rung too deep, and cannot be 
fetched back again. His own affectation is his pulley ; that can move him, 
no engine else stirs him. A man may like him at first, as one that never 
heard music doth the tinker's note on his kettle ; but after a while, they are 
both alike tedious. There is no help for his auditory, by any excuses to ' 
shift him off; if he have not the patience to endure an impertinent discourse, 
he must venture censure of his manners, and run away. His discourse is so 
full of parentheses, as if he were troubled with the rheum, and could not 
spit. He is ever tying hard knots, and untying them ; as if nobody had 
hired him, and therefore he must find himself work. If he light on the tiered 
writ, he conceitedly allegorises on the plainest subject, and makes the Scrip- 
ture no more like itself than ^Miclial's image in the bed ujton a pillow of 
goat's hair was like David. He carries bread at his back, and feeds upon 
stones. Like a full-fed dog, he leaves the soft meat to lie gnawing ui)on 
bones : that we may say of him. This man hath a strong wit, as we say. That 
dog hath good teeth. ' 

The way to cure the megrim is diverse, according to the cause ; either by 
cutting a vein, purging, revul.sive or local remedies. lUit the sanation of 
this braiu-sick malady is very difficult, insomuch that Solomon saith, ' There 



474 THE soul's sickness. [Sekmon XXV. 

is more hope of a fool than of one wise in his own conceit.' For he imagines 
the whole world to be sick, and himself only sound. I might prescribe him 
the opening of a vein which feeds this disease, that is, affectation ; the 
itching blood of singularity let out, would much ease him. Or a good 
purge of humility to take him down a little, because he stands so high in 
his own imagination ; and full vessels, to prevent their bursting, must have 
timely vent. Or a little opium of sequestering him from business, and con- 
fining him that he might take some sleep, for his brains want rest. Or a 
little euphorbium of sound admonition and fit reproof dropped into his ear 
warm. Some euphrasia, or eye-bright, would do well. Unctions, if lenifying, 
will do no good ; nor any of the former, I doubt, except a strong pill of dis- 
cipline go with them. The specialest remedy is discipline, as the father said, 
when he heard his son complain of his head, — ' My head, my head,' — com- 
manded a servant, 'Carry him to his mother,' 2 Kings iv. 19 : so for these 
men so troubled with the headache, deliver them to their mother ; let the 
church censure them. 

Disease 2 : Inconstancy/, a kind of Staggers. — There is a disease in the 
soul called inconstancy, not unfitly shadowed to us by a bodily infij-mity, 
possessing the superior part of man — vertigo, a swimming in the head, a 
giddiness, or the staggers. The disease in the body is described to be an 
astonishing and dusking of the eyes and spirits, that the patient thinks all 
that he seeth to turn round, and is suddenly compassed with darkness. The 
parallel to it in the soul is inconstancy, a motion without rule, a various 
aspect, a diversifying intention. The inconstant man is like a Pour-contrell ; 
if he should change his apparel so fast as his thought, how often in a day 
would he shift himself ! He would be a Proteus too, and vary kinds. The 
reflection of every man's news melts him, whereof he is as soon glutted. As 
he is a noun, he is only adjective, depending on every novel persuasion ; as 
a verb, he knows only the present tense. To-day he goes to the quay to be 
shipped for Rome, but before the tide come, his tide is turned. One party 
think him theirs, the adverse theirs : he is with both, with neither, not an 
hour with himself Because the birds and beasts be at controversy, he will 
be a bat, and get him both wings and teeth. He would come to heaven, 
but for his halting : two opinions, like two watermen, almost pull him 
a-pieces, when he resolves to put his judgment into a boat, and go some 
whither; presently he steps back, and goes with neither. It is a wonder 
if his affections, being but a little lukewarm water, do not make his 
religion stomach-sick. Indifference is his ballast, and opinion his sail : 
he resolves not to resolve. He knows not what he doth hold. He opens 
his mind to receive motions, as one opens his palm to take a handful of 
water — he hath very much, if he could hold it. He is sure to die, but not 
what religion to die in ; he demurs like a posed lawyer, as if delay could re- 
move some impediments. He is drunk when he riseth, and reels in a morn- 
ing fasting. He knows not whether he should say his Fater noster in Latin 
or English, and so leaves it and his prayers unsaid. He makes himself ready 
for an appointed feast : by the way he hears of a sermon, he turns thither- 
ward ; yet betwixt the church gate and church door he thinks of business, 
and retires home again. In a controverted point he holds with the last 
reasoner he cither heard or read ; the next diverts him ; and his <)i)ini()n 
dwells with him perhaps so long as the teacher of it is in his sight. He will 
rather take dross for gold, than try it in the furnace. He receives many 
judgments, retains none, embracing so many faiths that he is little better 
than an infidel. 



Sermon XXV.] the soul's sickness. 475 

They give a double cause of this disease in the body : either the distem- 
perature and evil-artoctcdnoss of the brain, <«• an oflonce .^nven to it from the 
mouth of the stomach : vapours, gross an<l tough humours, or windy exhala- 
tions, cither lodging in the brain or sent thitlier fixjui the stomacii, turning 
about the animal spirits ; hence the brain staggers Avith giddiness. This 
spiritual inconstancy arisoth from like causes. If it be iu religion, it pro- 
ceeds from cJoutly imaguiations, fancies, tictions, and forced dreams, which 
keep the mind from a sober and peaceful considerateness. Multitude of 
opinions, like foggy vapours, mist the intellectual faculty, and, like re- 
verberated blasts, whirl al)out the spirits. He sees some ceremonial divisions 
in our church, and therefore dares not steadfastly embrace that truth which 
both parts, without contention, teach and obsei-ve : so leaves the bles.si!\g of 
his mother, bec^iuse he beholds his brethren quarrelling. Whiles he sees the 
unreconcUeablo opposition of Home and us, which he fondly labours to atone, 
he forsakes both, and will now be a church alone. Thus his breast is full of 
secret combats, contradictions,' atlirmations, negatives ; and, whiles he re- 
fuseth to join with others, he is divided in himself, and yet will rather search 
excuses for his imstaidne.s.s, than ground for his rest. He loathes manna 
after two tLiys feeding, and is almo.st weary of the sun for perjtetual sliining. 
If the temple-pavements be ever worn vi-ith his Ansitant feet, he wall run fiir 
to a new teacher ; and ratlier than be bound to his own parish, he will turn 
recusant. He will admire a new preacher till a quarter of the sand is out ; 
but if the church doors be not locked up, he cannot stay out the hour. What 
he promiseth to a collection to-day, he forgets, or at least denies, the next 
morning. His best dwelling would be his confined chamber, where his ir- 
resolution might trouble nothing but his pillow. In human matters, the 
cause of his variableness is not varied, but the object. He is transformable 
to all qualities, a tempered lump of wax to receive any form, yet no impres- 
sion sticks long upon him ; he holds it the quickness of his wit to be voluble. 

The signs of this disease in the body arc a mist and darkness coming 
upon every light occasion. If he see a wheel turniiig round, or a whirljiool, 
or any such circular motion, he is affected with giddiness. The symptoms of 
the spiritual staggers are sembla1)le. He turns with those that turn, and is 
his neighbour's chameleon. He hates staidness as an earthen dulness. 
He pro.secutcs a business without fear or wit ; and rejecting the patience to 
consult, falls upon it with a peremptory heat : l>ut like water once hot, is 
soonest frozen, and instantly he must shift his time and his place ; neither 
Ls he so weary of every jilace, as every place is weary of him. He affects an 
object \\itb dotage, and as superstitiously courts it as an idolater his gilded 
block. But it is a wonder if his passionate love outlive the age of a won- 
der — nine days. He respects in all things novelty above goodness ; and the 
child of his own brains within a week he is ready to judge a bastard. Ho 
salutes his wits after some invented toy, as a serving-man kisscth liis hand ; 
Avhen instantly on another plot arising, ho kicks the former out of doors. 
He pulls down this day what he buildcd the other, now disliking the site, 
now the fasliion, and sets men on work to his own undoing He is in liis 
own house as his thoughts in his own brain — transient guests ; like a liag- 
gard, you know not where to take him. He hunts well for a gird, but is 
soon at a loss. If he gives any profession a winter's entertainment, yet he 
is whether for a penny the next spring. He is full of business at church, a 
stranger at home, a sceptic abroad, an ol)ser%'er in the street, e\er3'where a 
fool. To conclude, their own unfaithfulness making the inconstant thus .sick, 
there is an accession of the Lord's plague ; ho adds dotage ;ia a punishment 



476 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXV, 

of their former wilful dotage : ' The Lord hath mingled a perverse spirit in 
the midst thereof; and they have caused Egypt to err in every work thereof, 
as a drunken man staggereth in his vomit,' Isa. xix. 14. 

For the curing of this bodily infirmity many remedies are prescribed : 
odoriferous smells in weakness, the opening of a vein in better strength, cup- 
ping glasses applied to the hinder part of the head, with scarification, gar- 
garisms, and sternutatory things, together with setting the feet in hut baths, 
&c. To cure this spiritual staggers, let the patient be purged with repent- 
ance for his former unsettledness ; let him take an ounce of faith to firm his 
brains ; let his repose be on the Scriptures, and thence fetch decision of all 
doubts ; let a skilful physician order him a good minister. Let him stop 
his ears to rumours, and fix his eyes on heaven, to be kept from distracting 
objects. Let him keep the continual diet of prayer for the Spirit of illumi- 
nation ; and thus he may be recovered. 

Disease 3 : Madness and Anger. — The next disease I would describe is 
frenzy or madness. Now though physicians do clearly distinguish betwixt 
these two, frenzy and madness, — calling frenzy an inflammation of the brain 
without a fever, or an imposthumation bred and engendered in the pellicles 
of the brain, or pia mater ; and mania, or madness, an infection of the former 
cell of the head, without a fever ; the one abusing the imagination, the other 
ravishing the memory, — I list not to dispute or to determine. That which 
serves my intention is to confer either of these passions with a spiritual 
disease of like nature, anger. Ira furor brevis. It is a madness, I am sure ; 
I am not sure how short. I do not ask for men passionless ; this is hominem 
de homine tollere. Give them leave to be men, not madmen. Ira optimo 
loco doniim Dei : et magna est ars irasci verbis prcemeditatis, et tempore op- 
jiortuno* — Anger in the best sense is the gift of God ; and it is no small art 
to express anger with premeditated terms, and on seasonable occasion. God 
placed anger amongst the affections engralfed in nature, gave it a seat, fitted 
it with instruments, ministered it matter whence it might proceed, provided 
humours whereby it is nourished. It is to the soul as a nerve to the body. 
The philosopher calls it the whetstone to fortitude, a spur intended to set 
forward virtue. This is simply rather a propassion than a passion. 

But there is a vicious, impetuous, frantic anger, earnest for private and 
personal grudges ; not lil^e a medicine to clear the eye, but to put it out. 
This pernicious disease of the soul hath degrees : — It is inhicnian ; tigers de- 
vour not tigers : this rageth against kind and kindred. Impious ; it rageth 
often against God, as that Pope upon a field lost against the Frenchmen. 
Sic esto nunc Gallicus, — So, turn French now, &c. Mad ; for it often 
rageth against unreasonable creatures, as Balaam striking his ass. How 
much is such a man more irrational and bestial than the beast he maligns ! 
It is more than mad, striking at insensible things, as Xerxes wrote a defying 
letter to Athos, a Thracian mountain : ' Mischievous Athos, lifted up to 
heaven, make thy quarries passable to my travel, or I will cut thee down 
and cast thee into the sea.' But his revenge was neither understood, feared, 
nor felt. So the Africans being infested with a north wind, that covered 
their corn-fields witli sand from a mountain, levied an army of men to fight 
with that wind, but were all buried under the sand. So Darius, because a 
river had drowned him a white horse, vowed to cut it into so many channels 
tiiat a woman with child might go over dry-shod. We have some so madly 
impatient with a storm, wind, &c. ; which might answer them, as Ilakshakeh 
told the Jews, Isa. xxxvi. 10, ' Am I come hither without the Lord? It is 
* Jerom. 



Sermon XXV. J the soul's sicknkss. 477 

he that sent me.' This anger is immediately directed against God ; tlie heart 
speaks atheism, only in other words. It is unnatural ; for it maligneth a 
man's self. It is full of con.sternation and am;izcnient, and never u.scth vio- 
lence, without torment to itself. It thinks to offer wrong, and indeed suf- 
fers it. 

I'psa sibi est hostis vesania, seque furendo inlerimit, — As the frantic or 
drunkard do that intoxicate, which, sober, they would quake to think of; so 
these ireful, direful men (or rather beasts) dare in their fits play with ser- 
pents, mingle pui.sons, act massacres, whereat their awaked souls shudder. 

The higher the person in whom this frenzy reigns, the greater the fault. 
The master-bee hath no sting, the rest have ; the greater power, the less 
passion. It is a state tyranny, in authority to mind nothing but authority. 
Fosse et nolle, nohile, — It is noble to may and will not. When a railing 
wretch followed a heathen peer with obloquies all day, and home to his doora 
at night, he requited him with commanding his servant to light him home 
to his house with a torch. Damascene makes three degrees of anger : hilem, 
ira£undiam, infensionem, — choler, wrath, heavy displeasure. Some have 
added a fourth. 

The first hath a beginning and motion, but presently ceaseth ; we call this 
choler. Like fire in stubble, soon kindled, and soon out. These are like 
gunpowder, to which you no sooner give fire but they are in your face. They 
say these hot men are the best-natured ; but I say, then, the best are naught. 
These are stung with a nettle, and allayed with a dock. 

The second is not so soon conceived, but takes deeper hold in the memorj'. 
This fire is neither easily kindled nor easily put out ; like fire in iron, which 
hardly taking, long abideth. These men are like green logs, which once set 
on combustion continue burning day and night too. 

The third entertain this fire suddenly, and retain it perpetually, not de- 
sisting without revenge. Those are like fire, which bewrayeth not itself 
without the ruin and waste of that matter wherein it hath caught. Tliis 
worst. 

The fourth is a moderate anger, not soon incensed, but quickly appeased ; 
and this is the best, because Hkest to the disposition of God, who is ' mer- 
ciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy,' Ps. ciii. 8, ready 
to forgive. 

Frenzy is caused by abundant blood, or choler occupying the brains or the. 
films thereof : the more adust this choler is, the more pernicious the mad- 
ness. The cause of anger is the giving of passion the domuiion over reason. 
Seneca says, Causa iracundicg o]/i)iio injuries est, — The cause of anger is the 
conceit of injury. Such a man gets up on the wild jade, his choler, and 
spurs him on, ha\dng no bridle of moderation to hold him back. His con- 
versation is so full of choleric fit.s, as a book of tedious parentheses, that they 
mar the sense of his life. He is like an egg in roasting, hopeful to be good 
meat, but it grows too hot on a sudden, and flies in your lUce, not without 
a great noise. Anger is able to turn Dametas into Hcrcnlcs fun' ns, teach- 
ing lam that is .strong, to fight ; him that Is not, to talk. Whiles the light- 
ning of his rage lasts, he thunders out a challenge, but after a little calm 
meditation, sounds a retreat. He menaceth the throats of his enemies, 
though they be many, and swears loud he will be their priest ; he means 
executioner. But if you compare his threatenings and his after-affec- 
tions, you would .say of them, ;us that wise man shearing his hogs: Here is a 
great deal of cry, but a little wool. His enemies are wor.se feared than hurt, 
if so they be in oerson, as he is in sober judgment, a little out of the way. 



478 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXV. 

The frenzy is easily seen, and needs not to be described by signs. Physi- 
cians give many ; I will say no more but this : if the madness proceed 
from blood, they are perpetually laughing ; if of choler, they rage so furiously, 
that bands only can restrain them from doing violence. The symptoms of 
this spiritual madness, rash and furious anger, are many, visible and actual : — 

Swelling of mind, so high and so full that there is no room for any good 
motion to dwell by it. Ira tumor mentis, and makes a man like the 
spider-poisoned toad. In this raging fit, reason, modesty, peace, humanity, 
&c., run from him, as servants from their mad master, or mice from a bam 
on fire. Contumely, without any distinguishing respect of friend, foe, alien, 
familiar ; he reviles any, fratremque patremque. Violence of hands, savage 
and monstrous behaviour : ' Like the troubled sea when it cannot rest, 
whose waters cast up mire and dirt,' Isa. Ivii. 20 ; fuming and foaming like 
a muddy channel ; a distorted countenance, sparkling eye, foul language, 
hasty hands. If the angry man and the drunkard had a glass presented 
them, how hardly could they be brought again to love their own faces ! 

To cure this bedlam passion (leaving the other to deeper judgments in that 
profession) both nature and grace have given rules. Natural reason : That an 
angry man should not undertake any action or speech till he had recited the 
Greek alphabet, as a pause to cool the heat of choler. That angry men 
should sing to their passions as nurses to their babes : Mn cjsvds, (x,7\ (3oa, — 
Haste not, cry not. Maximum remediiim est irce mora* — The best remedy 
for anger is delay. What a man doth in anger he lightly repents in cold blood. 
That we should keep our corrupt nature from provoking objects, as a man 
that hath gunpowder in his house kee2)s it safe from fire. That we should 
construe all things in the best sense : a good disposition makes a good ex- 
position, where palpableness doth not evince the contrary. That suspicion 
is a pair of bellows to this mad fire. That jealousy and self-guiltiness are 
the angry man's eavesdropper and intelligencer. That the earth suffers 
us liiing to plough furrows on her back, and dead opens her bowels to re- 
ceive us ; a dead earth convincing a living earth's impatience. Scripture : 
That ' anger resteth in the bosom of fools.' That ' the wrath of man doth 
not accomplish the righteousness of God.' That ' unadvised anger is culpable 
of judgment.' Let him take some herb of grace, an ounce of patience, as 
much of consideration how often he gives God just cause to be angry with 
him, and no less of meditating how God hath a hand in Shimei's railing, 
that David may not be angry ; mix all these together with faithful confi- 
dence that God will dispose all wrongs to thy good : hereof be made a piU 
to purge choler. To conclude, let reason ever be our judge, though pas- 
sion sometimes be our solicitor. 

*Parit ira furorem; 
Turi)ia verba fiiror, verbis ex turpibus exit 
Ira, ex hac oritur vulnus, de vulnere lethum;' — 

' Wrath kindles fury, fury sparks foul words, 
Those let out wounds and death with flaming swords.* 

Disease 4 : Envy, a Consumption. — Envy fitly succeeds anger, for it is 
notliing else but inveterate wrath. The other was a frantic fit, and this is a 
consumption ; a languishing disease in the body, the beginning of dissolution, 
a broaching of the vessel, not to be stopped tUi all the liquor of life is rua 
out. What the other tabe is in the body, 1 list not to define, by reason that 
this spiritual sickness is a consumption of the flesh also, and a pining away 
♦ Sen. de Ira., lib. i., cap. 28. 



Skrmon XXV.] THE soul's sickness. 479 

of the spirit.s ; now since they both have relation to the body, their compa- 
ri.son would be confa.sion. Envy is the consumption I siugvdarly deal witkil ; 
wli^ch though I cannot cure, I will hoiicfully niini.ster to. 

The cause of envy is others' i)rosijerity, or rather an evil eye shot upon it. 
The angry man hath not himself, the envious must have no neighbour. He 
battens at the mahgned's misery ; and if such a man riseth, he falls as if he 
were planet-struck. I know not whether ho could endure to be in paradise 
with a superior. He hates to be hai)py with any comi)any. Envy sits in a 
man's eyes, and wheresoever through those windows it spies a blessmg, it Ls 
fiickness and death unto it. Invidnspdal d, Juve privari uno oculo, ut umrus 
quod privetur amhobus, — The envious man woiUd have happily one of his 
eyes put out, as the covetous should lose both. A physici;m being asked 
what was the best help to the per.spicuity of the eyes, atlirmed, Envy ; for 
that, like a pei'spective glass, would make good things appear great things. 

' Fcrtilior seges est alienis semper in .agris ; 
Vicinumque pecus grauilius uber habet ; ' — 

He is even quarrelling with God that his neighbour's field bears better corn, 
and thinks himself poor if a near dweller be richer. He will dispraise God's 
greatest blessings if they fall besides himself, and grow sullen, so far as he 
dares, with the prince that shall promote a better deserver. There is no law 
perfect, if he was not at the making it. He undertakes a great work, and 
when he cannot accomplish it, he wU give leave to none other. No man 
shall have that glory which he aspired and missed. An yEsop's dog in the 
manger ; because he can eat no hay himself, he will starve the horse. Poison 
is life to a serpent, death to a man ; and that which is life to a man, his 
humidity and spittle, they say is death to a serpent. The rancorous sustenance 
which a malicious man lives of is the misery and mischief to a good man ; 
and a good man's prosperous felicity is the malicious man's death. God 
hath in justice appointed it to be a plague to itself. Among all mischiefs it 
is furnished with one profitable quality : the owner of it takes most hurt. 
CarpiUiue et carpitur una : suppliciunique suum, est. 

' Ut yEtna seipsam. 
Sic se, non alios, invidus igne coquit.' 

The envious is a man of the worst diet, and like a strange cook stews him- 
self ; nay, and conceits pleasure in pinuig ; so that his body at la-st hath just 
cause to sue his soul on an action of dilapidations. He finds fault with all 
things that himself hath not done. He wakes whiles his enemy takes rest. 
rarum est, si ipse sitfelij; nis-L alter fuerit iiifdix. His affections are like 
lightning, which commonly scorches the highest places : feriunt summos fuL- 
gura monies. He creeps like a canker to the fairest flowers. By putting in 
a superHuous syllable he hath corrujited one of the best words, turning 
amorem into amarorem, love into bitterness. A philosopher seeing a mali- 
cious man dejected, asked liim whether some evil had happened to himself 
or some good to his neighbour. 

The signs of this disease are given by the poet : — * 

' Videt intus edentem 
Vipereas camee, vitionini alinienta miorum. 
Pallor in ore sedet, macies in corpore toto ; 
Nunquam recta aciea ; livent rubiginc dentoB : 
Pectora fello virent ; lingua est siiffiirta vcncno;' — 

A pale face without blood, and a lean body without any juico in it, squint 
• Met.JL 



480 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXV. 

eyes, black teeth, a heart full of gall, a tongue tipped with poison. Amaz- 
edness makes the face pale, grief drinks up the blood ; looking on men's 
prosperity makes the eyes squint, and cursing, the teeth black. It were weU 
for him on earth that he should dwell alone. It is pity he should come into 
heaven, for to see ' one star excel another in glory ' would put him again out 
of his wits. I wonder, when he is in hell, whether he would not still de- 
sire superiority in anguish, and so sit in the chair, though he receive the 
more torments. The envious man is so cross to God, that he is sure of pun- 
ishment ; he hath in present one like to the nature of his offence. For his 
sin ; whereas God brings good out of evil, he brings evil out of good. For 
his punishment ; whereas even evil things ' work together to the good of the 
good,' even good things work together to his evil. AH the happiness lights 
on him that is envied ; for it goes well with him with whom the malicious 
thinks it goes too well. 

His cure is hard, even as with a tabe in the body : too much physic makes 
him worse. Crosses are fitly called God's physic, whereby if God will cure 
him, he must minister them to those he hates. Strange, that one man 
should be healed by giving physic to another ! Two simples may do him 
good, if he could be won to take them : a scruple of content, and a dram of 
charity. If these be given him, well stirred, in a potion of repentant tears, 
he may be brought to wish himself well, and others no harm, and so be re- 
covered. 

Disease 5 : Idleness, the Lethargy. — Idleness in the soul is a dangerous 
disease, as the lethargy in the body. The very name of lethargy speaks the 
nature, for it is compounded of K7]dri, forgetfulness, and a^yhs, slothful; and 
.so consequently is defined to be a duU oblivion. The idle man is a piece of 
base heavy earth, and moulded with muddy and standing water. He lies 
in bed the former half of the day, devising excuses to prevent the afternoon's 
labour. He cannot endure to do anything by himself that may be done by 
attorney. He forestalls persuasion inducing him to any work, by forecast- 
ing the unprofitableness ; he holds business man's cruellest enemy, and a 
monstrous devourer of time. His body is so swollen with lazy humours, 
that he moves like a tun upon two pottle pots. He is tempted to covetise, 
for no other reason but to be able to keep servants ; whom he will rather 
trust than step out to oversee. Neither summer nor winter scape the blame 
of his laziness ; in the one it is too hot, in the other too cold, to work. 
Summer hath days too long, winter nights too cold ; he must needs help the 
one with a nap at noon, the other with a good fire. He was very fit to be 
a monk : spare him an early mass, and he will accept it ; yet howsoever, he 
will rather venture the censure than forsake a lazy calling. 

The cause of the lethargy is abundant phlegm, overmuch cooling the brain, 
and thereby provoking sleep ; which putrefied in the brain, causeth a fever. 
The cause of idleness is indulgence to the flesh, a forgetfulness of the end of 
our creation, a wHful digression from man, for the lazy wretch is a dormouse 
in a human husk. To man motion is natural, the joints and eyes are made 
to move ; and the mind is never asleep, as if it were set to watch the body. 
Sleep is the image of death, saith the poet ; and therefore the church-sleeper 
is a dead corpse, set in his pew like a coffin, as if the preacher were to make 
his funeral sermon. He sings out harvest like the grasshopper ; therefore 
may at Christmas dance for and without his dinner. He risetli at noon to 
breakfast, which he falls to unwashed, and removes not out of his chair 
without a sleep. Whilst he sleeps, the enemy over-sows the field of his heart 
with tares. He is a patient subject for the devil to work on, a cushion for 



Slemon XXV.] THE soul's sickness. 481 

him to sit on, and take his ease ; his misery is, th.it ' his damnation sleepeth 
not.' His bed is his haven, his heaven, and sound sleep his deity. 

'The stiiuling water stinks with i^utrefaction ; 
AuJ virtue hath no virtue, but in action.' 

If he be detained up late, he lies down in his clothes, to save two labours. 
Nothing shall make him bustle up in the niglit, but the house fired about his 
ears ; w hich escaping, he lies down in the yard, and lets it burn. He should 
gather moss, for he is no rolling stone. In this he is a good friend to his 
country, he desires no innovation ; he would scarce shift ground ten leagues, 
though from a cottage to a manor. He is so loath to leave the tap-house in 
winter, that when all leave him, he makes bold with the chimney comer for 
his parlour. If ever, in a reign, he lights upon a humour to busine.ss, it is 
to game, to cheat, to drhik drunk, to steal, &,c., and falls from doing nought 
to do naughtily : so mending the matter as you have heard in the fiibh the 
de\al mended his dame s leg ; when he should have put it in joint, he brake 
it quite a-pieces. 

Spnptoms of the lethargy are a great pulse, beating seldom, as if it were 
full of water ; a continual proneness to sleep, that they are scarcely com- 
pelled to answer a question. You may know a lethargical idle man by a 
neglected beard, unkembed hair, and unwashed face, foul linen, clothes un- 
brushed, a nasty hand smelling of the sheet, an eye opening when the ear 
receives your voice, and presently shut again, as if both the organs were stiff 
with exertions. He hath a blowni cheek, a drawling tongue, a leaden foot, 
a brazen nose : he gapes and gasps so often, that sometimes he keeps his 
mouth open still, as if he had forgotten to shut it. 

To cure the lethargic, there are required many intentions ; not without 
frictions, scarifications, sharp odours, and bloodletting, (tc. To cure the 
idle, it should more properly belong to surgery than physic ; for there is 
no medicuie like a good whip, to let out his lazy blood ; and a good diet of 
daily labour, which some skilful beadle must see him take : put him into the 
bath at bridewell, to take away the numbness of his joints, and scour ofi" his 
rust, and so he may be recovered. 

' Fac bene, fac tua, fac aliquid, fac utile semper : 
Commipunt mores otia prava bones.' 

Disease G : The Dropsy and Covetousness. — Physicians say that the drop.sy 
is an error in the digestive virtue in the liver, bred of the al)undance of sidt 
and waterish phlegm, with the overfeeding of raw and moi.st meats. It is 
distinguished into three sorts — ascites, tympanites, and anasarca or hi/jx/sarca. 
Ascites is when between the film called periionceum (which is the caul that 
covers the entrails) much watery humour is gathered. Tympanites arisetli 
from windiness and fiatuous causes gathered into the foresaid i)laces. IIy}>o- 
sarca is when the humours are so dispersed through the whole body, that 
all the flesh appears moist and spongy. Our spiritual dropsy, covetousness, 
is a disease bred in the soul, through defect of faith and understanding. 
It properly resides in the inferior powers of the soul, the atfections ; but 
ariseth from the errors of the superior intellectual faculty : neither con- 
ceiving aright of God's all-sufficient help, nor of the world's all -deficient 
weakness. 

The corporal dropsy is easily known by heaviness, swelling, puffing up, 
immoderate desire of drink, itc. The spiritual likewise, though it leans the 
carcase, lards the conscience ; at least swells and pulls it up : and as if some 

VOL. L - II 



482 THE soul's sickness. [Sermox XXV. 

hellisli inflammation had scorched the affection, it thirsts for aurum poiahile 
without measure. The covetoiis man is of Renodaeus's opinion, that argen- 
tum phirimum valet ad cordis palpitationein, — silver is good against the 
heart-panting. The wise man calls it a disease, an ' evil disease,' Eccles. vi. 2, 
and almost incurable. The covetous hath drunk the blood of oppression, 
wrung from the veins of the pdor ; and behold, like an undigestible receipt, 
it wambles in his stomach : he shall not feel quietness in his belly. This is 
an epidemical sickness. Aurum omnes, victa Jam pietate, colunt, — Religion 
gives riches, and riches forgets religion. 

' Religio dat opus, paupertas religionem : 
Divitiae veniunt, religioque fugit.' 

Thus do our affections wheel about with an unconstant motion. Poverty- 
makes us religious, religion rich, and riches irreligious. For as pauperis est ro- 
gare, so it should be divitis erogare. Seneca wittily and truly, Hahes pecu- 
niam ? vel teipsum vel pecuniam habeas vilem necesse est, — Hast thou money 1 
Either thou must esteem thy money vUe, or be vile thyself The covetous 
man is like a two-legged hog : whiles he lives, he is ever rooting in the 
earth, and never doth good till he is dead ; like a vermin, of no use till un- 
cased. Himself is a monster, his life a riddle ; his face (and his heart) is 
prone to the ground ; his delight is to vex himself. It is a question whether 
he takes more care to get damnation, or to keep it ; and so is either a Laban 
or a Nabal, two infamous churls in the Old Testament, spelling one another's 
name backward. He keeps his god under lock and key, and sometimes, for 
the better safety, in his unclean vault. He is very eloquently powerful 
amongst his poor neighbours ; who, for awful fear, listen to Pluto as if he 
were Plato. He prevails very far when he deals with some officers ; as a 
Pharisee with Christ's steward, Tantum dabo ; tantus valor in quatuor 
syllabis, — so powerful are two words. He prevails like a sorcerer, except 
he light upon a Peter : Acts viii., ' Thou and thy money be damned together.' 
His heart is like the East Indian ground, where all the mines be so barren, 
that it bears neither grass, herb, plant, nor tree. The lightness of his purse 
gives him a heavy heart, which yet filled, doth fill him with more cares. His 
medicine is his malady ; he would quench his avarice with money, and this 
inflames it, as oil feeds the lamp, and some harish drinks increase thirst. 
His proctor in the law, and protector against the law, is his money. His 
alchemy is excellent, he can project much silver, and waste none in smoke. 
His rhetoric is how to keep him out of the subsidy. His logic is to prove 
heaven in his chest. His mathematics, omnia sua commodo, non honestate 
mensurare, — to measure the goodness of anything by his own profit. His 
arithmetic is in addition and multiplication, much in subtraction, nothing 
in division. His physic is to minister gold to his eye, though he starve his 
"body. His music is Sol, re, me, fa : Sola res me facit, — That which makes 
me, makes me merry. Divinity he hath none ; idolatry enough to his 
money. Sculpt ura is his Scripiura; and he hath so many gods as images of 
coin. He is an ill harvest-man, for he is all at the rake, nothing at the 
pitchfork. The devil is a slave to God, the world to the devil, the covetous 
man to the world ; he is a slave to the devil's slave, so that his servant is 
like to have a good office. He foolishly buries his soul in his chest of silver, 
when his body must be buried in the mould of corruption. When the fisher 
offers to catch him with the net of the gospel, he strikes into the mud of 
avarice, and will not be taken. TJie dropsy of his (pilupyv^ia, 1 Tim. vi. 10, 
doth senectiite juvenescere. Cicero calleth it an absurd tlung. Quo 7)unus vi<e 



SlillMOX XXV.J THE SOUL'ti SICKNESS. 4d3 

vestal, eu plus viatici qwxi-tre* He sells his best graiu, and feeds himself 
on mouldy crusts ; he returns from plough, if he remembers that liis cup- 
board was left unlucked. If onco in a rcigu he invites his neighbours to 
dinner, he whiles the times with frivolous discourses, to hinder feeding ; sets 
away the best dish, affirming it will be better cold ; observes how much 
each guest eateth, and when they are risen and gone, falleth to himself, 
what for anger and hunger, with a shar[) appetite. If he smells of gentility, 
you shall have at the nether end of his board a great pasty uncut up, for it 
is filled with bare bones : somewhat for show, but most to keep the nether 
mess from eating.- He hath sworn to die in debt to Ids belly. He deducts 
from a servant's wages the price of a halter, which he cut to save his master, 
when he had hung himself at the fall of the market. He lends nothing, nor 
returns borrowed, unless it be sent for ; which if he cannot deny, he will 
delay, in hope to have it forgotten. To excuse Ids base and sordid apparel, 
he commends the thriftincss of King Henry, how cheap his clothes were. 
His fist is like the prentice's earthen box, which receives all, but lets out 
nothing till it be broken. He is in more danger to be sand-blind than a 
goldsmith. Therefore some call him avidiim, a non videndo. He must rise 
m the night witli a candle to see his corn, though he stumble in the straw, 
and fire his baru.t He hath a lease of Ids wits, during the continuance of 
his riches : if any cross starts away them, he is mad instantly. He would 
slay an ass for his skin ; and, like Hermocrates dying, bequeath his own goods 
to himself His case is worse than the prodigal's ; for the prodigal shall 
have nothing hereafter, but the covetous hath nothing in present : Prodigus 
lion hahebit, sed avarus non habet. 

For his cure much might be prescribed ; specially as they give in the corporal 
dropsy — purge the humour that feeds it. When the covetous hath gotten 
much, and yet thirsts, a vomit of confiscation would do well, and set him to 
get more. It was a good moral instruction that fell from that shame of 
philosophy, Epicurus, ' The course to make a man rich is not to increase his 
weidth, but to restrain his covetous desires.' The apostle's counsel is to fly 
it, and all occasions, occupations that may beget or nourish it, Eph. v. 3. 
Remember, saith a schoolman, that though hovio be de terra, et ex terra, yet 
71071 ad terram, nee ]»'opter terram, — man is on the earth, of the earth, but 
■not for the earth, itc. I have read of one John, patriarch of Alexandria, a 
sparing and strait-handed man, that, being earnest at his prayers, there ap- 
peared to him a virgin with a crown or garland of olive-leaves. He desiring 
to know her name, she called herself Mercy. Requiring her intent, she re- 
quested him to marry her, promising Mm much prosperity on that condition. 
He did so, and found himself still the richer for his merciful deeds. She 
may offer herself long enough in these days ere she be taken. Mercy may 
live a maid, fur no man will marry her. Valerius Maximus speaks of one 
Gillias, a famous Roman, that besides hospitality to strangers, paid the 
taxes of many pour, rewarded deserts unsued to, bought out the servi- 
tude of captives, and sent them home free. How few such like can an English 
historiographer write of! I would we had such a Gillias amongst us, so 
it were not from Rome. Well, then, let the covetous remember his end, and 
the end of his riches, — how certain, how uncertain they are, — and intend his 
covetisc to a better object. Quis alius nosfer est fnis, <iuam pervenire ad 
reynum cujm 7iullm est finis! — What else should l)e our end, save to come 
to the kingdom that hath no end ! His cure is set down by (Jud; I leave 
the receipt with him : 1 Tim. vi. 'J, 'They that will be rich fall into temp- 
• De Senect. t So tlitl a wretcLeU coni-LoarJcr. 



484 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXV. 

tation and a snare, and into many foolish and noisome lusts, wliicli drown 
men in perdition and destruction.' Ver. 10, ' For the love of money is the 
root of all evil,' &c. Ver. 11, ' But thou, O man of God, flee these things, 
and follow after righteousness,' &c. Ver. 17, ' Charge them that are rich in 
this world, that they be not high-minded, nor trust in uncertain riches,' &c., 
' but that they be rich in good works,' &c. The place is powerful ; let the 
covetous read, observe, obey, repent, believe, and be saved. 

Disease 7 : Usury, and Caninus Appetitus, or the Dog-like Appetite. — Next 
to the dropsy of covetise, I would place the immoderate hunger of usury, for 
as the one drinks, so the other feeds to satiety; and the former is not more 
thirsty after his cupping, than the latter is hungry after his devouring. 
Some have compared usury to the gout, (by reason of that disease's incidency 
to usurers,) which is an unusual humour flowing to the extreme parts. It 
is either arthritis, an articular disease, which we call a joint- sickness ; or 
podagra, a pain invading the joint of the great toe, or the heel, or some in- 
ferior parts of the foot: this, like a strong charm, bindeth a man. to his 
chair. Musculus says, that divines shall reform fury, when physicians have 
cured the gout : the sin and the disease are both incurable. And that will 
one day rack the conscience, as this the sinews. Herein the merely covetous 
and the usurer differ : the covetous, to be rich, would undergo any labour ; 
the usurer would be rich, yet undergo no labour ; therefore, like the gout- 
wrung, desires to sit still. I have thought fitter to compare it with the dog- 
like appetite, which cannot refrain from devouring meat without measure ; 
which the stomach not able to bear, they fall to vomiting like dogs ; hence, 
again, hunger is excited to more meat, and much meat provokes spewing : 
so that their whole life is nothing else but a vicissitude of devouring and 
vomiting. 

It is caused through cold distemper of the stomach, or through vicious 
and sharp humours, which gnaw and suck the mouth of it ; or through un- 
measurable dissipation of the whole body, which lightly follows the weakness 
of the retentive virtue. This animal hunger is raised partly from the cold- 
ness of the heart, for there is no charity to warm it ; partly from corrupt 
afi"ections, which like vicious humours gnaw and suck the conscience dry of 
all vividity, whether of grace or humanity ; partly through the weak reten- 
tion of any good instruction, whether from the Scriptures of God, or writings 
of sober men. 

The corporal disease is easily perceived, by insatiate feeding, which yet 
ministers almo.st no virtue to the body, but it is rather made lean and wasted 
therewith ; the skin is rarefied, the body made fluid and apt to much eges- 
tion, (fee. A usurer is known by his very looks often, by his speeches com- 
monly, by his actions ever. He hath a lean cheek, a meagre body, as if he 
were fed at the devil's allowance. His eyes are almost sunk to the back side 
of his head with admiration of money. His ears are set to tell the clock, 
his whole carcase a mere anatomy. Some usurers have fatter carcases, and 
can find in their hearts to lard their flesh ; but a common meagreness is upon 
all their consciences. Fcenus pecunice, funus animce. Some spin usury into 
such fine threads of distinction, that they take away all the names whereby 
it off"ends ; and because R is a ddgged letter, and they conceive a toothless 
practice, interest, usury, and all terms with It in them, shall be put out, and 
the usurer shall be called only, one that lives upon his moneys. All his 
reaches are at riches ; his wit works like a mole, to dig himself through the 
earth into hell. Plutarch writes strangely of hares, eodem tempore et parere, 
et alere, et alios concipere foetus, — at one time to bring forth, nourish, jiud 



Sermon XXV.] the soul's sickness. 485 

to conceive. Your usurer makes his money to do all these at once. He 
drowns the noise of the people's curses with the music of his money, as the 
Italians in a great thunder ring their bells and shoot off their cannons, by an 
artilicial noise of their own to dead the natural of broken clouds. His 
practice mocks philosophy, quod exnihilo nihil fit, and teaches of nothing to 
get something. He is a rank whorema.ster with his mistress Pecunia, and 
lives upon the lechery of metals. He doth that office for the devil on earth 
that his spirits do in hell — whip and torment poor souls. His blows are 
without fence. Except men, as Strepsiades desired, could pluck the moon 
out of the sky, his month and day will come. 

Nature hath set a pitch or term in all inferior things, when they shall 
cease to increase. Old cattle breed no longer, doted trees deny fruit, the tired 
earth becomes barren ; only the usurer's money, the longer it breeds, the 
lustier, and a hundred pounds put out twenty years since, is a great-great- 
grandmother of two or three hundred children : pretty striplings, able to 
beget their mother again in a short time. 

'Each man to heaven his hands for blessing rears; 
Only the usurer need not say his prayers. 
Blow the wind ea.st or west, plenty or dearth. 
Sickness or health sit on the face of earth, 
He cares not: time will bring his money in; 
Each day augments his treasure and his sin. 
Be the day red or black in calendar. 
Common or holy, fits the usurer. 
He starves his carcase, and, true money's slave, 
Goes with full chests and thin cheeks to his grave.* 

He hath not his gold so fast as his gold him. As the covetous takes away 
the difference betwixt the richest mine and basest mould, use,* so this pawu- 
groper spoils all with over-using it. It is his ill-luck that the beams of 
wealth shine so full upon him ; for riches, like the sun, fires and inflames 
objects that are opposed in a diameter, though further removed, but heatcth 
kindly when it shines upon a man laterally, though nearer. He shrinks up 
his guts with a starving diet, as with knot-grass, and puts his stomach into 
his purse. He sells time to his customers, his food to his coffer, his body 
to languishment, his soul to Satan. 

His cure is very desperate : his best reprehension is deprehension ; and 
the best purge is to purge him out of the land. Iliera picra Galeni is a 
sovereign confection to clarify him. Let him be fed, as physicians prescribe 
in the cure of the coq^oral disease, with fat suppings ; and let him drink 
abundantly, till he forget the date of his bonds. Turn him out from the 
chimney-comer into some wilderness, that he may have a cold and perspir- 
able air. Give him a good vomit of stibium till he hath spewed up his extor- 
tions. Let his diet-drink be repentance, his daily exercise restoring to every 
man his gotten interest. Give him a little opiuni to rock his cares a.slecp ; 
and when he is cold, make him a good fire of his bills and bonds. Give 
him a jalap of the gospel, to beget in him the good blood of faith. If nothing 
work with him, let him make his will, and hear his sentence, that he shall 
never * dwell with the blessed,' Ps. xv. 

Disease 8 : Pride and the Pleurisy. — The pleurisy is defined to be an in- 
ward inflammation of that upper skin which girdeth the sides and the ribs, 

• I suppose the meaning to be, that the difference between gold and earth is that the 
one is more usefvil than the other; but the miser will not use his gold, and so to him it 
is of as little value as base mould. — Ed. 



486 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXY. 

and therefore is called dolor lateralis. Pride is a pursy affection of the soul, 
lege, modo, ratione car ens, — without law, for it is rebellious ; without mea- 
sure, for it delights in extremes ; without reason, for it doth all things with 
precipitation. The proud man is bitten of the mad dog, the flatterer, and so 
runs on a garget. 

The pleurisy is caused of an abundance of hot blood flowing unnaturally 
to the foresaid place ; or by the engendering of cold, gross, and vicious 
humours, gathered into the void place of the breast, or into the lungs. This 
spiritual disease ariseth from a blown opinion of one's self : which opinion is 
either from ignorance of his own emptiness, and so, like a tumbler full of 
nothing but air, makes a greater sound than a vessel of precious liquor ; or 
from arrogance of some good, which the owner knows too well. He never 
looks short of himself, but always beyond the mark, and offers to shoot fur- 
ther than he looks ; but ever falls two bows short — humility and discretion. 

The symptoms of the pleurisy are difficult breathing, a continual fever, a 
vehement pricking on the affected side. The proud man is known by his 
gait, which is peripatetical, strutting like some new churchwarden. He 
thinks himself singularly wise, but his opinion is singular, and goes alone. 
In the company of good wits, he fenceth in his ignorance with the hedge of 
sUence, that observation may not climb over to see his follies. He would 
have his judgment for wearing his apparel pass unmended, not uncommended. 
He shifts his attire on some solemn day, twice at least in twelve hours ; but 
cannot shift himself out of the mercer's books once in twelve months. His 
greatest envy is the next gentleman's better clothes ; which if he cannot 
better or equalise, he wears his own neglected. His apparel carries him to 
church without devotion ; and he riseth up at the Creed to join with the 
rest in confession, not of his faith, but his pride; for sitting down hides 
much of his bravery. He feeds with no cheerful stomach, if he sit not at 
the upper end of the table and be called young master ; where he is content to 
rise hungry, so the observant company weary him with drinking to : on this 
condition he gives his obligation for the shot. He loves his lying glass be- 
yond any true friend ; and tells his credulous auditors how many gentle- 
women have run mad for him, when if a base female servant should court 
him, I dare wager he proves no Adonis. If he were to die on the block, as 
Byron, he would give charge for the composition of his locks. 

Pride is of the feminine gender, therefore the more intolerable in a mascu- 
line nature. Much civet is unsavoury : Non bene olet, quoe bene semper olet. 
She that breathes perfumes artificially, argues herself to have naturally cor- 
rupted lungs. This woman hath neither her own complexion nor proportion, 
for she is both painted and pointed together. She sits moderator every 
morning to a disputation betwixt the comb and the glass, and whether con- 
cludes best on her beauty carries her love and praise. Howsoever, of men 
saith the poet. Forma vh'os neglecta decet. Indeed there is no graceful be- 
haviour like humility. This fault is well mended when a man is well minded, 
— that is, when he esteems of others better than himself Otherwise a proud 
man is like the rismg earth in mountainous })laces : this .swells up monte, as 
he mente ; and the more either earth advanceth itself, perpetually they are 
the more barren. He lives at a high sail, that the puffy praises of his neigh- 
bours may blow him into the enchanted island, vainglory. He shines like 
a glowworm in a dark village, but is a crude thing when he comes to the 
court. If the plethora swells him in the vein of valour, nothing but well- 
beating can hold him to a man. If ever he goes drunk into the field, and 
comes off with a victorious parley, he would swell to a son of Anak. 



Sermon XXV.] the soul's sickness. 487 

The pleurisy is cured by drawing out some blood from the vein that hath 
relation to the affected part. A clyster is very good, together with some 
fomentations. It is helped much by cui)i)iiig ; 1 do not mean drinking. 
God prescribes the cure of pride by precept and pattern. L'receiA : ' Humble 
yourselves under the mighty hand of Gt)d :' the reason is given, ' for God 
resisteth the jjroud, and giveth grace to the humble,' 1 Pet. v. G. Pattern : 
' Take my yoke upon you, and Ic.arn of me ; for I am meek and lowly in 
heart : and you sludl find rest unto your souls,' Matt. xi. 20. The Master 
is worth your hearing, the lesson your learning, the recompense your re- 
ceiving. The cure hereof is hard, for all vices are agahist humility ; nay, 
all virtues are against humility, as many are proud of their good deeds ; nay, 
humility hath an opposition against humility, as if she were false to her own 
person. S(epe homo de vamv glorioe contemptu vanus gloriatur ; so that 
often humility, by a prodigious and preposterous birth, brings forth pride. 
Pride doth make a wise man a fool ; continues him a fool that is so, the 
opinion of his own wisdom excluding all opportune possibility of receiving 
knowledge. Pour precious juice into a vessel full of base Uquor, and it runs 
besides. That instruction is spUt which you offer to infuse into a soul so 
full of self-aflfectation. Many a man had proved wise, if he had not so 
thought himself. If the air of his pride be enclosed in a baser bubble, at- 
tire, it is the more vile ; for the generation of his sin is produced from the 
corruption of himself. God made him a man, he hath made himself a beast ; 
and now the tailor (scarce a man himself) must make him a man again ; a 
brave man, a better than ever nature left him. Thus he is like the cinnamon- 
tree, the bark is better than the body ; or some vermin, whose case is better 
than the carcase. 

For his cure, open his pleuritic vein with the sacrificing knife of the law, 
and tell him that the cause of his pride is the eft'ect of his sin. That wicked- 
ness brought shame to nakedness, and apparel hides it ; whereof being proud, 
he glories in his own halter. Strip him of his gaudy clothes, and put him 
in a charnel-house, where he may read visible lectures of mortality and rotten- 
ness. 

Disease 9 : Palsy and Timorous Suspicion. — The former sick were tumidi, 
these are timidi ; they were bold to all evd, these are fearful to all good. 
The palsy is a disease wherein one half of the body is endamaged in both 
sense and moving. Of that disease which is called paralysis, resolution, or 
the dead palsy, wherein sometimes sense alone is lost, sometimes motion 
alone, and sometimes both together perish, I intend not to speak. It is, 
proportion considered, more dangerous to the body than I would imagine 
this disease to be to the soul. I would compare it to that corporal infirmity 
which physicians call Iremorem, and some vulgarly, the palsy ; wherein there 
is a continual shaking of the extremer parts : somewhat adverse to the dead 
palsy, for that takes away motion, and this gives too much, tht)Ugh not 
proper and kindly. This spiritual disease is a cowardly fearfulness, and a 
distrustful suspicion, both of actions and men. He dares not undertake, for 
fear of he knows not what ; he dares not trust, for suspicion of his own re- 
flection, dishonesty. 

This evil in the body is caused generally through the weakness of the 
sinews, or of the cold temperature of nature, or accidentally of cold drink 
taken in fevers. Old age and fear are not seldom causes of it. Tliis spi- 
ritual palsy ari.seth either from the weakness of zeal, and want of that kindly 
heat to be affected to God's glory ; or from consciousness of sclf-coiTuption, 
thereby measuring others. The first is fearfulness, the second distrustfulness. 



488 THE soul's sickness. [Seemon XXV. 

The signs of the palsy are manifest ; of this not very close and reserved. 
He conceives what is good to be done, but fancies difficulties and dangers, 
like to knots in a bulrush, or rubs in a smooth way. He would bowl well 
at the mark of integrity, if he durst venture it. He hath no journey to go, 
but either there are bugs, or he imagines them. Had he a pardon for his 
brother, (being in danger of death,) and a hare should cross him in the way, 
he would no further, though his brother hanged for it. He owes God some 
good-will, but he dares not shew it. When a poor plaintiff calls him for a 
witness, he dares not reveal the truth, lest he offend the great adversary. 
He is a new Nicodemus, and would steal to heaven if nobody might see him. 
He makes a good motion bad by his fearfulness and doubting ; and he calls 
his trembling by the name of conscience. He is like that collier, that pass- 
ing through Smithfield, and seeing some on the one side hanging, he demands 
the cause ; answer was made, for denying the supremacy to King Henry : on 
the other side some burning, he asks the cause ; answered, for denying the 
real presence in the sacrament : Some, quoth he, hanged for Papistry, and 
some burned for Protestancy 1 Then hoit on, a God's name ; I'll be neither. 
His religion is primarily his prince's, subordinately his landlord's. Neither 
deliberates he more to take a new religion, to rise by it, than he fears to keep 
his old, lest he fall by it. All his care is for a ne noceat. He is a busy in- 
quirer of all Parliament acts, and quakes as they are read, lest he be found 
guilty. He is sick, and afraid to die, yet holds the potion in a trembling 
hand, and quakes to drink his recovery. His thoughts are an ill balance, 
and will never be equally poised. He is a light vessel, and every great man's 
puff is ready to overturn him. "Whiles Christ stands on the battlements of 
heaven, and beckons him thither by his word, his heart answers, I would 
fain be there, but that some troubles stand in my way. He would ill with 
Peter walk to him on the pavement of the sea, or thrust out his hand with 
Moses, to take up a crawling serpent, or hazard the loss of himself to find 
his Saviour. His mind is ever in suspicion, in suspension, and dares not 
give a confident determination either way. Resolution and his heart are 
utter enemies ; and all his philosophy is to be a sceptic. Whether is worse, 
to do an evil action with resolution that it is good, or a good action with 
dubitation that it is evil, somebody tell me. I am sure neither is well, for 
an evil deed is evil, whatsoever the agent think ; and for the other, ' What- 
soever is not of faith is sin.' Negatively, this rule is certain and inf:illible : 
' It is good to forbear the doing of that which we are not sure is lawful to 
be done.' Affirmatively, the work being good, labour thy understanding so 
to think it. 

Fear rather than profit hath made him a flatterer ; and you may read the 
statutes, and his landlord's disposition, in the characters of his countenance. 
A soldier, a hu.sbandman, and a merchant, should be venturous. He would 
be God's husbandman, and sow the seeds of obedience, but for ' observing the 
wind and weather ' of great men's frowns, Eccles. xi. 4. He would be God's 
factor, but that he fears to lose by his talent, and therefore buries it, Luke 
XL 13. He would be God's soldier, but that the world and the devil are 
two such shrewd and sore enemies, 2 Tim. ii. 3. He once began to prose- 
cute a deed of charity, and because the event crossed him, he makes it a 
rule to do no more good. 

As he' is fearful of himself, so distrustful of others, caiTying his heart in 
his eyes, his eyes in his hands : as she in the comedy, Oculatce mihi sunt 
manus, credunt quod vident. He knows nothing by himself but evil, and 
according to that rule measures others. He would fain be a usurer, but 



Sermon XXV.] the soul's sickness. 489 

that he dares not tnist the hiw with wax and paper. He swears damnably 
to the truth of that he affirms, as fearing otherwise not to be believed, 
because without that oathing it he will credit none himself. The bastardy 
of swearing lays on him the true fatherhood. He will trust neither man nor 
God without a pawn ; not so much as his tailor with the stuff to make his 
clothes : he nnist be a broker, or no neighbour. He hath no faith, for he 
believes nothing but what he knows ; and knowledge nullifies belief. If 
others laugh, he imagines himself their ridiculous object ; if there be any 
whispering, cotiscius ipse sibi, 6:c., it must be of him without question. If 
he goes to law, he is the advocate's sprite, and haunts him wor.se than, his 
own mains genius. He is his owti caterer, his own receiver, his own secre- 
tary ; and takes such pains, as if necessity forced him, because all servants 
he thinks thieves. He dares not trust his money above-ground, for fear of 
men ; nor under-ground, for fear of mst. When he throws his censures at 
actions, his luck is still to go out ; and so whiles he playeth with other men's 
credits, he cozens himself of his own. His opinion lights upon the worst 
sense still ; as the fly that passeth the sound parts to fasten on a scab, or a 
dor that ends his flight in a dunghill. Without a sithjxena these timorous 
cowherds dare not to London, for fear lest the city air should conspire to 
poison them ; where they are ever crying, ' Lord, have mercy on us,' whenas 
* Lord, have mercy on us ' is the special thing they feared. The ringing 
of bells tunes their heart into melancholy ; and the very sight of a corpse is 
almost enough to turn them into corpses. On the Thames they dare not 
come, because they have heard some there drowned ; nor near the Parlia- 
ment-house, because it was once in danger of blowing up. Home this em- 
blem of diffidence comes, and there lives with distrust of others, and dies in 
distrust of himself; only finding death a certain thing to trust to. 

The cure of this bodily shaking is much at one v\'ith that of the palsy ; 
specially if it be caused of cold and gross humours. To help a man of this 
spiritual trembling, these intentions must be respected : — First, to i)urge his 
heart by repentance from those foul and feculent corruptions wherewith it 
is infected ; and being clean himself, he will more charitably censure of others. 
Then teach him to lay the heaviest load on himself, and to spare others. ' True 
wisdom from above is without judging, without hypocrisy,' James iii. 17. 
The wisest men are the least censurers ; they have so much ado to mend all 
at home, that their neighbours live quietly enough by them. Get him a. 
good affection, and he will have a good construction. Minister to his soul a 
draught of charity, which will cleanse him of suspicion, for 'charity thinks 
no evil,' 1 Cor. xiii. 5. None ? It thinks no evil, unless it perceive it 
apparently. To credit all were silliness ; to credit none, suUenness. ' Against 
his timorousness he hath an excellent receipt, set down by God himself: 
'Fear not the fear of the wicked ;' but ' sanctify the Lord of hosts himself: 
let him be your fear, let him ha your dread,' Isa. viii. 1 2, 1 3. The way for 
him to fear nothing as he doth, is to fear one thing as ho should. Awful 
reverence to God doth rather bolden than terrify a man. ' They that trust 
in the Lord shall be as mount Zion, which caimot be removed, but abideth 
for ever,' Ps. cxxv. 1. They may be moved, they cauTiot be removed, from 
what is good, from what is their good, their God. This course may cure his 
paralytic soul, only if it shall please God to be his physician. 

Disease 10 : Immoderate Thirst and Ambition. — There is a disease in the 
body called immoderate thirst ; which is after much drinking, desired and 
answered, a still sensible dryness. By this I would (I suppose, not unfitly) 
express that spiritual disease, ambition, — a proud soul's thirst, when a 



490 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXV. 

draught of honour causeth a drought of honour ; and like Tally's strange 
soil, much rain of promotion falling from his heaven, the court, makes him 
still as dry as dust. He is a most rank churl, for he drinks often, and yet 
would have no man pledge him. 

The disease is caused in the body through abundant heat drying up 
moisture ; and this is done by hot, choleric, or salt humours engendered in 
the stomach, or through fevers burning or hectic. 

The signs of the disease are best discerned by the patient's words. The 
cause of ambition is a strong opmion of honour ; how well he could become 
a high place, or a high place him. It is a proud covetousness, a glorious 
and court madness. The head of his reason caught a bruise on the right 
side, his understanding ; and ever since lie follows affection as his principal 
guide. He professeth a new quality, called the art of climbing ; wherein he 
teacheth others by pattern, not so much to aspire, as to break their necks. 
No stair pleaseth him if there be a higher ; and yet, ascended to the top, he 
complains of lowness. He is not so soon laid in his bed of honour but he 
dreams of a higher preferment, and would not sit on a seat long enough to 
make it warm. His advancement gives him a fresh provocation, and he now 
treads on that with a disdainful foot, which erewhile he would have kissed 
to obtain. He climbs falling towers, and the hope to scale them swallows 
all fear of toppling down. He is himself an intelligencer to greatness, yet 
not without under-officers of the same rank. You shall see him narrow- 
eyed with watching, affable and open-breasted like Absalom, full of insinua- 
tion so long as he is at the stair-foot ; but when authority hath once spoken 
kindly to him, with ' Friend, sit up higher,' he looks rougher than Hercules ; 
so big as if the river of his blood would not be banked within his veins. 
His tongTie va flahelluvi diaholi, and flagellum justi, — bent to scourge some, 
flatter others, infect, infest all. Agrippina, Nero's mother, being told by an 
astrologer that her son should be emperor, but to her sorrow, answered, ' Let 
my sorrow be what it will, so my son may get the empire.' He hath high 
desires, low deserts. As Tully for his Pindinessus,* he spends much money 
about a little preferment ; and with greater cost than the captain bought his 
burgess-ship, he purchaseth incorporeal fame, which passeth away as swift as 
time doth follow motion, and whose weight is nothing but in her name : 
whereas a lower place, well managed, leaves behind it a deathless memory. 
Like a great wind, he blows down all friends that stand in his way to rising. 
Policy is his post-horse, and he rides all upon the spur, till he come to None- 
such. His greatest plague is a rival. 

' Nee quemquam jam ferre potest Cjesarve priorem, 
Pompeiusve parem.'-h 

' Tolluntur in altum, ut lapsu graviore ruant.' 

He is a child in his gaudy desires, and great titles are his rattles, which 
still his crying till he see a new toy. He kisses his wits, as a courtier his 
hand, when any wished fortune salutes him ; and it tickles him that he hath 
stolen to promotion without God's knowledge. Amhitio ambieMium crux, — 
Ambition is the rack whereon he tortureth himself. The court is the sea 
wherein he desires to fish ; but the net of his wit and hope breaks, and there 
he drowns himself An old courtier beuig asked what he did at court, an- 
swered, ' I do nothing but undo myself.' 

For the bodily disease, caused of heat and dryness, physicians prescribe 

* A village in Cilicia, which Cicero took after a twenty-five days* siege. — Ed. 
+ Lucan, lib. i. 



Seemon XXV.] THE soul's sickness. 491 

oicicratum, a drink made of vinegar and water sodden together ; a chief in- 
tention in them is to procure sleep, «tc. To cure the immoderate tliirat of 
ambition, let him take from God this prescript : ' He that exalteth liiraself 
shall be brouglit low ; but he that humbleth himself sliall be exalted.' That 
he who sets himself down in the lower room hears the master of the feast's 
invitation, ' Friend, sit up higher.' That a glorious angel by ambition 
became a devil ; and a Lucifer of his sons, ' the king of Babylon, that said, 
I will exalt my throne above the stars of God, is brought down to hell, and 
to the sides of the pit,' Is<a. xiv. 1-1. That the first step to heaven's court is 
humility : Matt. v. 3, ' Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the king- 
dom of heaven.' That he who walks on plain ground is in little danger to 
fall ; if he do fall, he riseth with small hurt ; but he that climbs high is in 
more danger of falling, and if he fall, of killing. That the great blasts of 
powerful envy overthrow oaks and cedars, that oppose their huge bodies, and 
pass through hollow willows, or over little shrubs, that grow under the wall. 
That the higher state is the fairer mark for misfortune to shoot at : that 
which way soever the ambitious man looks, he finds matter of dejection. 
Above him, behold a God casting an ambitious angel out of heaven, an ambi- 
tious king from the society of men, but so ' respecting the lowliness of his 
handmaiden, that all generations call her blessed,' Luke i. 48. Below him, 
behold the earth, the womb that he came from, and the tomb that must re- 
ceive him. About him, behold others transcending him in his best qualities. 
Within him, a mortal nature that must die, though he were clad m gold ; and 
perhaps an evil conscience stinging him, whose wounds are no more eased 
by promotion than a broken bone is kept by a tissue-coat from aching. 
That there is a higher reckoning to be made of a higher place. That like 
city-houses, that on small foundations carry spacious roofs, his own top- 
hea\'y weight is ready to tumble him down. That he mounts up like a 
seeled* dove ; and w^anting eyes of discretion, he may easily light in a puddle. 
That he is but a stone tossed up into the air by fortune's sling, to receive the 
greater fall. That for want of other malignant engines, he begets on himself 
destruction. That Tiberius complained of fortune, that having set him up 
in so high a monarchy, she did not vouchsafe him a ladder to come dowTi 
again. That the honours of this world have no satisfactory validity in them. 
The poor labourer would be a farmer ; the farmer, after two or three dear 
years, asjares to a yeoman ; the yeoman's son must be a gentleman. The 
gentleman's ambition flics justice-height. He is out of square with being a 
squire, and shoots at knighthood. Once knighted, his dignity is nothing, 
except worth a noble title. This is not enough, the world must count him 
a count, or he is not satisfied. He is weary of his earldom, if there be a duke 
in the land. That granted, he thinks it base to be a subject ; nothing now 
contents him but a crown. Crowned, he vilifies his own kingdom for nar- 
row bounds, whiles he hath greater ncighl)ours ; he must be Ciusared to a 
universal monarch. Let it be granted, is he yet content ? No ; then the 
earth is a molehill, too narrow for his mind, and he is angry for lack of 
elbow-room. 

' Unus Pellsco Juveni non sufBcit orbia : 
iEstuat infclix angusto limine mundi.' 

Last, to be king of men is idle, he must be deified ; and now Alexander con- 
ceits his immortidity, and causeth temples and altars to be built to his name. 
And yet, being thus adored, is not pleased, becau.se he cannot command hca- 

♦ Blinded ; a term in falconry.— Ed. 



492 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXV. 

ven and control nature. Rome robbed the world, SyUa Rome, and yet again 
Sylla himself, not content till then. "When advancement hath set him up as 
a butt, he cannot be without the quiver of fears. Thus the largest draught 
of honour this world can give him doth not quench, but inflame his ambi- 
tious thirst. Well, let repentant humiliation prick the bladder of his blown 
hopes, and let out the windy vapours of self-love. And now let him ' hun- 
ger and thirst after righteousness,' and on my life * he shall be satisfied,' 
Matt. V. 6. 

Disease 11 : Inflammation of the Reins, or Lustfulness. — Among many dis- 
eases incident to the reins, as the diabetes, ulcers, the stone there, and the 
emission of bloody urine, there is one called inflammation of the reins. To 
this not unfitly, by comparing the causes, symptoms, and cure of either, I 
do liken lust. The Scripture calls it by a general name — uncleanness. Co- 
vetousness is commonly the disease of old age, ambition of middle age, lust 
of youth ; and it extends further, it portends less help. 

The causes of the bodily disease are given to be : first, corrupt humours ; 
secondly, drinking of many medicines ; thirdly, vehement ridings. Consider 
these in our comparison, and tell me if they sound not a similitude. Pro- 
vocatur libido, uhi deficit ; revocatur, uhi desinit. Medicines are invented, 
not to qualify, but to calefy, as if they intended to keep alive their concu- 
piscence, though they dead their conscience. 

The signs are many. There is a beating pain about the first joint of the 
back, a little above the bastard ribs, &c., with others, which modesty bids 
cover with the cloak of silence. The lustful man is a monster, as one that 
useth — 

' Humano capiti cervicem jungere equinam.' 

He affects Popery for nothing else but the patronage of fornication and 
frankness of indulgence. He cites Harding frequently, that common courte- 
zans in hot countries are a necessary evil ; which he believes, against God's 
express prohibition, in a hotter climate than Italy, ' There shall be no whore 
of the daughters of Israel,' Deut. xxiii. 17; then certainly no whoremaster. 
He tliinks it, if a sin, yet peccadillo, a little sin ; and that the venereal foults 
are venial, at least venal. Thus he would be a bawd to the sin, if not to the 
sinners. He is careless of his own name, of his own soul : injurious to his 
own minion, whom he corrupts ; to his bastard, whom he brings up like 
himself He increaseth mankind, not for love to the end, but to the means. 
His soul is wrapped in the truss of his senses, and a whore is the covimunis 
terminus where they all meet. He hath no command over his own affec- 
tions, though over countries ; as our modern epigrammatist of Hercules — 

* Lenam non potuit, potuit superare letenam ; 
Quern fera non valuit vincere, vicit hera.' 

His practice is, as it is said of some tobacconists, to dry up his purse, that 
he may dry up his blood, and the radical rnoisture. 

' Nil nisi turpe juvat, curse est sua cuique voluptas ; 
Hffic quoque ab alterius grata dolore venit.' 

The delight of his wickedness is the indulgence of the present, for it en- 
dures but the doing. He never rests so contentedly as on a forbidden bed. 
He is a felonious picklock of virginities, and his langTiage corrupts more 
innocent truth than a bad lawyer's. He is an almanac from eighteen to 
eight- and-twenty, if he scapes the fire so long. He can never call his hairs 



Sermon XXV.J the soul's sickness. 493 

and his sins equal, for as his sins increase his hairs fall. He buys admission 
of the chambermaid with his first fruits. He lives like a salamander in the 
flames of lust, and quencheth his heat with lire, and cuntinues his days under 
zona tornda. He spends his forenoon with aiKitheearies, the afternoon of 
his days with surgeons ; the former beget his misery, the latter should cure 
it. Every rare female, hke a wandering planet, .strikes him ; hence he grows 
amazed. His eyes are the trap-doors to Ids heart, and his lascivious hopes 
suck poison from the fairest tlower. Ho drowns hiiu.self in a woman's 
beauty, which is God's good creation, as a melancholy distracted man in a 
crystal river. When conscience plucks him by tlie sleeve, and would now, 
after much importunacy, sj)eak with him, he bids her meet him at fifty ; ho 
chargeth repentance to attend him at Master Doctor's. When his life's sun 
is ready to set, he marries, and is then knocked with his owai weapon ; his 
own disableuess and his wife's youthfuluess, like bells, ringing all in. Now 
his common theme is to brag of his young sins, and if you credit his dis- 
course, it shall make him far worse than he was. At last, he is but keitt 
above-ground by the art of chirurgery. 

For his cure, let him blood with the law of God : * Thou shalt not commit 
adidtery.' That ' the rigliteous God trieth the heart and the reins,' Fs. vii. 9, 
even the place where his disease lieth. That 

' Si renum cupia incolumem servare salutem, 
Sirenum cantus eifuge, sauus eris.' 

That hrevis est voluptas fornicationis, perpetua pcena foniicatoris, — the plea- 
sure of the sin is short, the punishment of the sin eternal. That 

' Nuda Venus picta est, nudl pinguntur amores : 
Nam, quoa nuda capit, nudos amittat oportet.' 

That his desired cure is his deserved poison. Age and sleep are his infal- 
liblest physicians. Disease is the mortifier of his sin, and cures it with an 
issue. That no black shield of the darkest night, no subtle arts, can hide or 
defend from God's impulsive sight. That, as a modern poet of ours — 

' Joy graven in sense, like snow in water wastes : 
Without conserve of virtue nothing lasts.' 

That he walks the highway to the devil; and winds down the blind stairs 
to helL That as it is called a noble sin, it shall have a noble punishment 
That he hath taken a voyage to the kingdom of darkness ; and is now at his 
journey's end when lust leaves him ere he discharge it. Let him observe 
St Paul's medicine: 1 Cor. vi. 18, ' Flee fornication : every sin that a man 
doth is without the body; but he that committeth fornication sinutjth 
ao'ainst his own body.' And, ' Tliis is the will of God, even your Siinctifioa- 
tion, and that ye should abstahi from fornication,' 1 Thess. iv. 3. Let him 
shun opportunity as his bawd, and occasion as his pander. Let him often 
drink that potion that Augustine did at his conversion :* ' Let us walk 
honestly, as in the day-time; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chamber- 
mg and wantonness,' ic. ' But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make 
not provision for the fiesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof,' llom. .\iii. 13, 11. Physi- 
cians prescribe, for the reins' inflammation, cooluig tilings, cataplasms, baths, 
iSic. A special intention to cure this burning concupiscence is to cure it 
with the tears of penitence. Weep for thy sins ; and if the disease grow 
still strong upon thee, take the antidote God hath prescribed, marriage : 
* Coufua., lib. viii., cap. 12. 



494 THE soul's sickness. [Sebmon XXV, 

* It is better to marry than to burn,' 1 Cor. vii. ' Marriage is honourable 
in all, and the bed undefiled : but whoremongers and adulterers God will 
judge/ Heb. xiii. 4. Much exercise doth well to the cure of this inflamma- 
tion. When our affections refuse to sit on the nest of lust and to keep it 
warm, the brood of actual follies will not be hatched. How yEgistus (not 
without company) became aii adulterer ; — in promptu causa est, desidiosus 
erat : for Otia si tollas, periere Cupidims arcus, — Cupid shoots in a slug, 
and still hits the sluggish. This intemperate fire is well abated by with- 
drawing the fuel. Delicates to excite lust are spurs to post a man to hell. 
It is fasting spittle that must kill his tetter. Uncleanness is the bastard 
begot of gluttony and drunkenness. Sine Cerere et Baccho friget Venus. 
When the mouth is made a tunnel, and the belly a barrel, there is no content- 
ment without a bed and a bedfellow. 

Disease 12 : The Rotten Fever, or Hypocrisy. — Amongst almost innumer- 
able kinds of fevers, there is one called cvwyjg, or fehris putrida, the rotten 
fever ; which is a fever of one fit, continuing many days without any great 
mutation. Hereunto I have likened a rotten disease in the soul, called 
hypocrisy ; which is nothing else but vice in virtue's apparel. 

This corporal disease is caused when the humours do putrefy and rot 
equally within the vessels. It is not engendered in those that be lean and 
slender, or of a thin and rai'e state of body, or of a cold temper ; but in those 
that be hot and abound with blood, fleshy, gross, and thick-bodied. Me- 
thinks this malady smells very like hypocrisy ; which is a rotten heart, 
festered and putrefied with habituated sins, there with great delight and in- 
dulgence reserved : not incident to those that have a weak, thin, and slender 
opinion of themselves, that through humility have a lean and spare construc- 
tion of their own desserts ; no, nor to them that be of a cold temper and 
disposition to religion, not caring either to be good or to seem so ; but to 
those that have a gross and blown conceit of themselves, swelling into an 
incomprehensible ostentation, and implacably hot in the persecution of that 
they inwardly affect not. 

For the signs of this putrid fever, they be not externally discerned, except 
you feel the pulse, which beats thick, quick, and vehement. The hypocrite 
is exceedingly rotten at core, like a Sodom apple, though an ignorant 
passenger may take him for sound. He looks squint-eyed, aiming at two 
things at once : the satisfying his own lusts, and that the world may not be 
aware of it. Bonus videri, non esse; malus esse, non videri, cupit. They 
would seem good, that they might be evil alone : not seem evil, lest they 
might not then be evil so much. Oves visu, vulpes astu, actu : having 
much angel without, more devU within ; a vUlanous host dwelling at the 
sign of Friend. 

' Tiita frequensque via est, per amici fallere nonieu. 
Tuta frequensque licet sit via, crimen habet.' 

Which one thus wittily Englisheth : — 

' A safe and common thing it is, 
Tiirough friendship to deceive : 
As safe and common as it is, 
'Tis knavery, by your leave.' 

He is on Sunday like the Rubric, or Sunday-letter, zealously red ; but all 
the week you may write his deeds in black. He fries in words, freezeth in 
works ; speaks by ells, doth good by inches. He is a rotten tinder, shining 
in the night: an ignis fatuus, looking like a fixed star; a ' painted sepulchre,' 



Sermon XXV.] the soul's sickness. 495 

that conceals much rottenness ; a crude glowworm shining in the dark ; a 
stinking dunghill covered over with snow ; a fellow of a bad couree, and 
good discourse ; a loose-huui; mill, that keeps groat clacking, but grinds no 
grist ; a lying hen, that cackles when she hath not laid. He is like some 
tap-house that hath upon the painted walls written, ' Fear dod, be sober, 
watch and pray,' ifec, when there is nothing but swearing and drunkenness 
ill the house. His tongue is hot as if he had eaten pcpi)er, which works 
coldly at the heart. He burns in the show of forward profession ; but it is 
a poor fire of zeal, that will not make the pot of charity seethe. He is in 
company holy and demure, but alone demurs of the matter ; so shuts out 
the devil Jit the gate, and lets him in at the postern. 

His words are precise, his deeds concise ; he prays so long in the church, 
that he may with less suspicion prey on the church ; which he doth the 
more peremptorily, if his power be answerable. K his place will atiurd it, 
his grace will without question. He bears an earnest atfection to the temple, 
as a hungry man to his meat, only to devour it. ' They .say. Come, let us 
take to ourselves the houses of God in possession,' Ps. Ixxxiii. 12. We pray 
for their conversion ; but if there be no hope, we must use the next words of 
the psalm : ' O my God, make them as a wheel ; like the stubble before 
the wind,' ver. 13. They can abide no point of Popery, but only this, 
church-robbing. Everything the Papists used but this is superstition. 
Some are so charitable, that having got the tithe-corn from the church, they 
reserve from the presented incumbent their petty tithes also; like monstrous 
thieves, that having stole the whole piece, ask for the remnants. Nay, it is 
not enough that they devour our parsonages, but they also devour our per- 
son.-? with their contumelious slanders. Advantage can make his religion 
play at fast and loose, for he only so long grows full of devotion, as he may 
grow full by devotion. His arguments are weak or strong, according to his 
cheer ; and he discourses best after dinner. Self-conceit swells him, and 
popular applause bursts him. He never gives the law good words but when 
it hath him upon the hip. Like a kind hen, he feeds his chickens fat, 
starves himself He forceih formal preciseness, like a porter, to hold the 
door, whiles de^ils dance within. He gives God nothing but show, as if he 
would pay him his reckoning with chalk ; which increascth the debt. K 
ever his alms smell of bounty, he gives them in public. He that desires 
more to be seen of men than of God, commend me to his con.science by this 
token, he is a hypocrite. He covers his ravenous extortions, and covetous 
oppressions, with the show of sm;dl beneficences ; and so may, for his charity, 
go to the devil. Indeed, gentilem agit vitam mb nomine Chnstiavo, — he 
lives Turk under the name of Christian. He is false in his friendship, heart- 
less in hLs zeal, ])roud in his humility. He rails against interludes, yet is 
himself never off the stage ; and condemns a mask, when his whole life Is 
nothing else. He sends a beggar from his gate bountifully feasted with 
Scripture sentences ; and (though he likes them not) so much of the statutes 
as will serve to save his money. But if every one were of his profession, 
charity's hand would no longer hold up poverty's head. What his tongue 
• spoke, his hands recant ; and he weeps when he talks of his youth, not that 
it was wicked, but that it is not. His tongue is his dissimulation's lacquey, 
and runs continually on that errand : he is the stranger's s.'iint, his neigh- 
bour's sycophant, his own politician ; his whole life being nothing else but a 
continual scribbling after the set Cf)py of hypocrisy. 

For hb cure, there is more dilhculty than of the rotten fever. In this, 
two special intcutious are used : bloodletting, and drinking of cool water, 



496 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXV. 

&c. But, alas ! what medicine should a man give to him whom he knows 
not to be sick 1 His heart is rotten, his husks fair and sightly. The core 
of his disease lies in his conscience, and, like an onion, is covered with so 
many peels that you would not suspect it. Their best physic is that God 
gives to Israel : ' Cleanse thy heart from iniquity, Jerusalem, that thou 
mayest be saved : how long shall thy vain thoughts remain within thee 1 ' 
Jer. iv. 14. If this serve not, let them read Christ's bill, his denunciation 
against them, so often menaced, ' Woe unto you, hypocrites ! ' I would tell 
them, that simulata sanctitas, duplex iniquitas ; and their life is so much 
the more abominable as they have played the better part. 

Disease 13 : Flux and Prodigality. — There be divers fluxes according to 
physicians : Uenteria, a smoothness of the bowels, suffering the meat to 
slide away not perfectly digested ; dysenteria, which is an exulceration of 
the bowels, whereof also they make four sorts ; tenesmus, which is a con- 
tinual provocation to siege, that the patient can neither defer nor eschew, yet 
vents nothing but slime. The flux diarrJioea is the general, as being without 
exulceration or inflammation. To this I compare prodigality, which is a 
continual running out. 

The corporal disease is caused either, first, by debility of the instruments 
that serve to digestion ; or secondly, through abundance of nourishment, 
moist and viscous, soon corrupted ; or thirdly, through weakness of the re- 
tentive faculty. The similitude holds well in the causes of prodigality. 
There is, first, a weakness of his understanding and brain, to digest that 
which his friends left him. Secondly, abundance of goods have made 
him wanton ; and the most part being slimy and ill-gotten, it wastes like 
snow, faster than it was gathered. Thirdly, the debUity of his reten- 
tive virtue is a special cause. For prodigality is pictured with the eyes 
shut and the hands open ; lavishly throwing out, and blindly not looking 
where. 

The symptoms of this disease are manifest. He is an out-lier, and never 
keeps -within the pale. He runs after liberality, and beyond it. He is dia- 
metrically opposite to the covetous ; and the difference is in transposing of 
one adverb. The one, dut nan rogatus ; the other, non dat rogatus. One 
hand is his receiver, but, like Briareus, he hath a hundred hands to lay 
out. He would bear dissipatoris, non dispensatoris officium. His father 
went to hell one way, and he will follow him another ; and because he hath 
chosen the smoother way, he makes the more haste. Parasites are his tenter- 
hooks, and they stretch him till he bursts, and then leave him hanging in 
the rain. You may put his heart in your pocket, if you talk to him bare- 
headed, with many parentheses of 'Your worship ;' there is no upstart buys 
his titles at a dearer rate. He loves a well-furnished table ; so he may have 
three P's to his guests — parasites, pa7iders, and playet-s ; the fourth he can- 
not abide, preachers. He will be applauded for a while, though he want 
almost pity when he wants. Like an hour-glass turned up, he never leaves 
running till all be out. He never looks to the bottom of his patrimony till 
it be quite unravelled ; and then, too late, complains that the stock of his 
wealth ran course at the fag-end. His father had too good opinion of the 
world, and lie too much disdains it. Herein he speeds, as he thinks, a 
little better ; and those that barked at his sire like curs, fawn upon him, and 
lick his hand like spaniels. He vies vanities with the slothful, and it is hard 
to say who wins the game ; yet give him the bucklers, for idleness is the 
coach to bring a man to Needdom, prodigality the post-horse. His father 
was no man's friend but his own ; and he, saith the proverb^ is no man's foe 



Sermon XXV.] the soul's sickness. 497 

else. Of what iige soever, he is under the years of discretion ; for if providence 
do not take bini ward, his heirs shall never be sought after. His ves-sel hath 
three leaks — a lascivious eye, a gammg hand, a dcitiod belly; and to content 
these, he can neither rule his heart nor his purse. When the shot comes to 
be paid, to draw in his company is a quarrel. When he feels want, for till 
then he never feels it, he complains of greatness for ingratitude, that he was 
not thought of when promotions were a-dcaling. When his last acre lies in 
his purse, he projects strange things, and builds houses in the air, having 
sold those on the ground; he turns nialecontcnt, and shifts that lie never 
had, religion. If he have not learned those tricks that undid him, flattery 
and cheating, he must needs press himself to the wars. He never before 
considered ad posse, but ad velle, and now he forgets velle, and looks only 
to posse. Tiike him at first imttiug forth into the sea of wealth and profuse- 
ness, and his fulness gives him — 

' Langiientis stomacbum, quern nulla ciborum, 
Blandimeuta movent, quern nulla invitat orexis ; ' — 

His stomach so rasping since his last meal, that it grows too cowardly to 
fight with a chicken : then he calls for sport, like sauce to excite appetite ; 
and when all fails, thinks of sleep, lies down to find it, and misseth it. In 
the connivance of his security, harlots and sycophants rifle his estate, and 
then send him to rob the hogs of their provender, Jove's nuts, acorns. In 
short time he is dismounted from his coach, disquautitied of his train, dis- 
tasted of his famihars, distressed of his riches, distracted of his wits, and 
never proves his own man till he hath no other. At last, after his hoveruig 
flight, he drops to a centre, which is a room in the alms-house that his father 
built. 

For his cure, (I will not meddle with his estate, I know not how to cure 
that ; but for his soul,) let him first take a pill of repentance ; for howsoever he 
hath scoured his estate, he hath clogged his conscience, and it must be purged. 
Bind up his unruly hands, so lavish and letting fly. Pull ofi" from his eyes 
that film of eiTor, that he may distinguish his reproving friends from his 
flattering enemies. Cool his luxurious heat with Solomon's after-course, the 
banquet of his pleasures being done: 'that for all these things God will 
bring him to judgment,' Eccles. xi. 9. That beggary is the heir-apparent of 
riot, as the younger son in the gospel, Luke xv. 13 ; we have too many such 
younger brothers. That his answer to those that admonish his frugality is 
built upon a false ground : ' ily goods are my own,' as the parasites said 
of their tongues, Ps. xiL 4 ; whereas he is not a lord but a steward, and 
must one day reddere rationem dispensation is, Luke xvL 2. The bUl of his 
reckoning will be fearful : Iteyn, for so many oaths. Iteyn, for so many lies. 
Item, for drunkenness. Item, for lusts, <kc. Nay, and item for causing so 
many tavern itejus, which were worse than [thy.sic bills to his estate. To 
conclude, if death find him as bankrupt of spiritual as of worldly goods, it 
will send him to an eternal prison. 

Disease 14 : The Jaundice and Profaneness. — IderiLS, or the jaundice, is a 
spreading of yellow choler or melancholy all over the body. To this I com- 
pare profaneness, which is an epidemical and universal spreading of wicked- 
ness throughout all powers of the soul. 

The jaundice is caused sometimes accidentally, when the blood is corrupted 

by some outward occasion without a fever ; or through hiflanmiation and 

change of the natural temperament of tbe liver ; or through obstruction of 

the passages which go to the bowels, Szc. The causes of profaneness are an 

VOL. L - J 



498 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXV. 

affected ignorance, a dead heart, a sensual disposition, an intoxicate reason, 
an habituated delight in sin, without sense, without science, without con- 
science. 

The symptoms of both the jaundice and profaneness need no description : 
their external appearance discolouring, the one the skin, the other the life, 
save both physicians much labour, if it be true that the knowledge of the 
disease is half the cure. He hath ' sold himself to wickedness,' for the price 
of a little vanity, like Ahab ; or let a lease, not to expire without his life. 
At first sight you would take him for a man ; but he will presently make 
you change that opinion, for Circe's cup hath transformed him. His eyes 
are the casements, that stand continually open, for the admission of lusts to 
the unclean nest of his heart. His mouth is the devil's trumpet, and sounds 
nothing but the music of hell. His hand is besmeared with aspersions of 
blood, lust, rapine, theft ; as if all the infernal serpents had disgorged their 
poisons on it. He loves Satan extremely, and either swims to him in blood, 
or sails in a vessel of wine. His heaven is a tavern, whence he never de- 
jDarts till he hath cast up the reckoning. He is ready to swear there is no 
God, though he swears perpetually by him. Religion is his footstool, and 
policy his horse, appetite his huntsman, pleasure his game, and his dogs are 
his senses. He endeavours by the continuance of his sports to make his 
pleasures circular, and the flame of his delight round, as the moon at full, 
and full as bright. The point of his heart is touched with the loadstone of 
this world, and he is not quiet but toward the north, the scope of his 
wickedness. He hath bowed his soul at the mark of sensuality, and runs to 
hell to overtake it. If the devil can maintain him a stock of thoughts, let 
him alone for execution, though to bastard his own children, and water on 
liis father's grave. To conclude, he is but a specialty of hell antedated, and 
strives to be damned before his time. 

His physic, as in some jaundices, must be strong of operation ; for the 
dryness of the one's stomach, of the other's conscience, doth enervate the 
force of medicines. The special intentions of his cure are strong purgations 
and bloodletting. If the law of God doth not purge out this corruption 
from his heart, let him blood by the hand of man ; manacle his hands, 
shackle his feet, dispute upon him with arguments of iron and steel ; let 
him smart for his blasphemies, slanders, quarrels, whoredoms ; and because 
he is no allowed chirurgeon, restrain him from letting blood. Muzzle the 
wolf, let him have his chain and his clog, bind him to the good behaviour ; 
and if these courses will not learn him continence, sobriety, peace, try what 
a Newgate and a grate will do. If nothing, let us lament his doom : ' Their 
end is damnation, whose god is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame, 
who mind earthly things,' Phil. iii. 19. 

Disease 15 : Apojdexy and SeaiHty. — The apoplexy is a disease wherein 
the fountain and original of all the sinews being affected, every part of the 
body loseth both moving and sense ; all voluntary functions hindered, as the 
wheels of a clock when the poise is down. To this I liken security, which 
though it be not sudden to the soul, as the other is to the body, yet is 
almost as deadly. There may be some difference in the strength or length 
of obsession ; all similitudes run not like coaches on four wheels : they agree 
in this, they both lie fast asleep ; the eyes of the one's body, of the other's 
reason shut, and they arc both withm two groans of death. 

The cause of the apoplexy is a phlegmatic humour, cold, gross, and tough, 
which abundantly fills the ventricles of the brain. The cause of security 
is a dusking and clouding of the understanding with the black humours and 



Sermon XXV.] the soul's sickness. 499 

dark mists of self-iguorance ; a want of calling himself to a reckoning, till 

he be nonsuited. 

The signs of the corporal are more palpable than of the spiritual sickness. 
The parish of his affections is extremely out of order : because Reason, his 
ordinary, doth not visit ; nor Memory, his churchwarden, present (or if it 
does. Omnia bene) Neither doth Understanding, the judge, censure and 
determine. He keeps the chamber of his heart locked, that meditation enter 
not ; and though it be sluttish with dust and cobwebs, wUl not sutler repent- 
ance to sweep it. He loseth tlie fruit of all crosses ; and is so far from 
breaking his heart at a little afiliction, that a sharp twitch stirs him not. 
Wliereas a melting heart bleeds at the least blow, he feels not the sword 
drinking up his blood. ^Most men sleep nigh half their time, he is never 
awake : though the sun shines, he lives in sempiternal night. His soul lies 
at ease, like the rich man's, Luke xii., and is loath to rise. Custom hath 
rocked him asleep in the cradle of his suis, and he slumbers without starting. 
His security is like Popery, a thick curtain ever drawn to keep out the light. 
The element he lives in is mare mortuunu He is a foolish governor, and 
with much clemency and indulgence nurseth rebellion ; neither dare he chide 
his affections though they conspire his death. Ho is the antit}ije to the 
fabulous legend of the seven sleepers. Pohcy may use him as a bloek, cannot 
as an engine. He is not dangerous in a commonwealth ; for if you let him 
alone, he troubles nobody. 

The cure of the apoplexy is almost desperate. If there be any help, it ia 
by opening both the cephalic vems ; and this course speeds the patient one 
way. Security, if it sleeps not to death, must be rung awake. There are 
five bells that must ring this peal : — 

First, Conscience is the treble, and this troubles him a Uttle : when this 
bell strikes, he drowns the noise of it with good-fellowship. But it sounds 
so shrill, that at last it will be heard ; especially if God pulls it. 

Secondly, Preaching is the stint or the certen to all the rest. This is 
Aaron's bell, and it must be ning loud to wake him : for lightly he begins 
Lis nap with the sermon ; and when the parish is gone home, he is left in 
his seat fast asleep : yet this may at last stir him. 

Thirdly, Another bell in this ring is the death of others round about him ; 
whom he accompanies to the church with a deader heart than the corpse ; 
knows he is gone to judgment, yet provides not for his own accounts at 
that audit. It may be, this spectacle, and a mourmng cloak, may bring 
him to weep. 

Fourthly, The oppressed poor is a counter-tenor, and rings loud knells of 
moans, groans, and suppUcations either to him for his pity, or against him 
for his injur}'. If this bell, so heavily tolling, do not waken him, it will 
waken God against him. ' Their cry is come up into the ears of the Lord 
of hosts,' James v. 4. 

Fifthly, The tenor or bow-bell is the abused creatures : the rust of the 
gold, the ' stone out of the wall ' crj-ing against the oppressor ; the corn, 
Avine, oil, against the epicure. 

Happily this pc;U may wake him. If not, there is yet another goad : 
affliction on himself — God cutting short his horns, that he may not gore his 
neighbours ; and letting him blood in his riches, lest being too rank, he 
should grow into a surfeit ; or ca.sting him down on his bed of sickness, and 
there taking sleep from his body, because his soul hath had too much. If 
neither the peal nor the goad can waken him, God will shoot an ordnance 
against him — death. And if yet he dies sleeping, the archangel's trump shall 



600 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXV. 

not fail to rouse liim. ' Awake then, thou that sleepest, and arise from the 
dead, and Christ shall give thee light,' Eph. v. 14. 

Disease 16 : Windiness in the Stoviacli, and Vainglory. — Inflation in the 
stomach hath some correspondence with vainglory in the soul ; a disease in 
either part of man full of ventosity, where all the humour riseth up into froth. 

Windiness is engendered through phlegmatic humours in the stomach, or 
through meats dissolved into vapours by deficiency of kindly heat. The 
cause of vainglory is a vaporous windy opinion of some rare quaUty in a 
man's self ; which though it be but an atom, he would blow, like an alche- 
mist, to a great mass. But at last, it either settles in a narrow room, or 
vanisheth into foam. 

Symptoms of the corporal disease are a swelling of the stomach, empty 
belchings, much rumbling of wind in the bowels, which offering to descend, 
is turned back again. You shall easUy know a vainglorious man : his own 
commendation rumbles within him, till he hath bulked it out ; and the air 
■of it is unsavoury. In the field, he is touching heaven with a lance ; in the 
street, his eye is still cast over his shoulder. He stands so pertly, that you 
may know he is not laden with fruit. If you would drink of his wisdom, 
knock by a sober question at the barrel, and you shall find by the sound his 
wits are empty. In all companies, like chaff, he will be uppermost ; he is 
some surfeit in nature's stomach, and cannot be kept down. A goodly 
cypress tree, fertile only of leaves. He drinks to none beneath the salt ; 
and it is his grammar-rule without exception, not to confer with an inferior in 
public. His impudence will overrule his ignorance to talk of learned prin- 
ciples, which come from him like a treble part in a bass voice, too big for 
it. Living in some under-stair office, when he would visit the country, he 
borrows some gallant's cast suit of his servant, and therein, player-like, acts 
that part among his besotted neighbours. When he rides his master's great 
horse out of ken, he vaunts of him as his own, and brags how much he cost 
him. He feeds upon others' courtesy, others' meat ; and (whether more 1) 
either fats him. At his inn he calls for chickens at spring, and such things 
as cannot be had ; whereat angry, he sups, according to his purse, with a 
red herring. Far enough from knowledge, he talks of his castle, (which is 
either in the air, or enchanted,) of his lands, which are some pastures in the 
fairy-ground, invisible, nowhere. He offers to purchase lordships, but wants 
money for the earnest. He makes others' praises as introductions to his 
own, which must transcend ; and calls for wine, that he may make kno'mi 
his rare vessel of deal at home : not forgetting to you, that a Dutch merchant 
sent it him for some extraordinary desert. He is a wonder everywhere : 
among fools for his bravery, among wise men for his folly. He loves a 
herald for a new coat, and hires him to lie upon his pedigree. All nobility, 
that is ancient, is of his alliance ; and the great man is but of the first head, 
that doth not call him cousin. When his beams are weakest, like the rising 
and setting sun, he makes the longest shadows : whereas bright knowledge, 
like the sun at highest, makes none at all ; though then it hath most result- 
ance of lieat and rcllcction of light. He takes great pains to make himself 
ridiculous ; yet (without suspecting it) both his speech and silence cries. 
Behold me. He discommends earned worth with a shrug, and lisps his 
enforced approbation. He loves humility in all men but himself, as if he 
did wish well to all souls but his own. 

There is no matter of consequence that policy begets, but ho will be gos- 
sip to it, and give it a name ; and knows the intention of all projects before 
they be full hatched. He hath somewhat in him, which would be better for 



SiaiMON XXV J THE soul's sickness. .")01 

himself and all men if he could keep it in. In his hall, you shall sec an old 
rusty s^vord hung up, wllich he swears killed Glendower in the hands of his 
grandsire. He fathers upon himself some villanies, hecause they are in 
fashion ; and so vilifies his credit to advance it. If a new famous courtezan 
be mentioned, he deeply knows her ; whom hideed he never saw. He will 
be ignorant of nothing, though it be a shame to know it. His barrel hath a 
continual spigot, but no tunnel ; and like an unthrift, he spends more than 
he gets. His speech of himself is ever historical, histrionical. He is indeed 
admiration's creature, and a circumstantial mountebank. 

For the cure of the corporal disease, you must give the patient such medi- 
cines as divide and purge phlegm, with an extenuating diet. To cure this 
windy humour of vainglory, St Paul hath a sharp medicine : that ' his 
glory is in his shame,' Phil. iii. 19. Prescribe him, that the free giving all 
glory to God is the rcsultancc of the best glory to man. The counsel of 
both law and gospel meets in this. ' Let not the wise man glory in his wis- 
dom, nor the strong in his strength, nor the rich in his wealth ; but let liim 
that glorieth glory in the Lord,' Jer. ix. 23. That ' he hath nothing' — which 
is good — ' that he hath not received,' 1 Cor. x. 17; and it is a shame for the 
cistern not to acknowledge the fountam. That the praise of good deserts i.s 
lost by want of humility. That there is none arrogant but the ignorant ; 
and that if he understood himself, his conceived sea is but a iniddle, Avhich 
every judicious observer s plummet finds shallow and muddy. That trafficking 
for the freight of men's praises for liis good worth, he suffers shipwreck in 
the haven; and loseth his reward there, where he shoidd receive it. 

Disease \1 : The Itch, ov the Busi/hody. — The itch is a scurvy disease ; a 
man would not think the soul had any infirmity to sample it. You shall 
find the humour of a busybody, a contentious intermeddler, very like it. 
The itch is a corrupt humour between the skin and the flesh, runnmg with 
a serpedinous course, till it hath defiled the whole body. Thus caused : — 

Nature being too strong for the evil humours in the body, packs them 
away to utter parts, to preserve the inner. If the humours be more rare 
and subtle, they are avoided by fumosities and sweat ; if thicker, they turn 
to a scabious matter in the skin : some make this the efi"ect of an inflamed 
liver, kc. 

If this itching curiosity take him in the cephalic vein, and possess the un- 
derstanding part, he moots more questions in an hour than the seven wise 
men could resolve in seven years. There is a kind of down or curdle on his 
wit, which is like a gentlewoman's train, more than needs. He would sing 
well, but that he is so full of crotchets. His questions are like a plume of 
feathers, which fools would give anything for, wise men notliing. He hath 
a greater desire to know where hell is, than to scape it : to know what God 
did before he made the world, than what he will do with him when it is 
ended. For want of correcting the garden of his inventions, the wee^ls choke 
the herbs, and he suffers the scum of his brain to boil into the broth. He is 
a dangerous progniosticator, and ]»ropounds desperate riddles ; which he 
gathers from the conjunction of planets, Saturn and Jupiter ; from doubtful 
oracles out of the hollow vaults and predictions of Merlin. He dreams of a 
cruel dragon, whose head must be in England and tail in Ireland ; of a head- 
less cross, of a Popish curse. 

' And Our Lord lights in our I.-uly's lap, 
And therefore Phigland must have a clap.' 

But they have broken day with their creditors, and the planets have proved 



502 THE soul's sickness. [Sermon XXV. 

honester than their reports gave them. Thus, as Bion said of astronomers, 
be sees not the fishes swimming by him in the water, yet sees perfectly those 
shining in the zodiac. Thus if the itch hold him in the theoretical part. If 
in the practical ; — 

His actions are polypragmatical, his feet peripatetical. Erasmus pictures 
him to the life : ' He knows what every merchant got in his voyage, what 
plots are at Rome, what stratagems with the Turk, &c. He knows strangers' 
troubles, not the tumultuous fightings in his own bosom,' &c. His neigh- 
bours' estate he knows to a penny ; and wherein he fails, ho supplies by in- 
telligence from their flattered servants : he would serve well for an informer 
to the subsidy-book. He delays every passenger with inquiry of news ; and 
because the country cannot satiate him, he travels every term to London for 
it : whence returning without his full load, himself makes it up by the way. 
He buys letters from the great city with capons ; which he wears out in 
three days, with perpetual opening them to his companions. If he hears 
but a word of some state act, he professeth to know it and the intention, as 
if he had been of the council. He hears a lie in private, and hastes to pub- 
lish it ; so one knave gulls him, he innumerable fools, with the ' strange fish 
at Yarmouth,' or the ' serpent in Sussex.' He can keep no secret in, without 
the hazard of his buttons. He loves no man a moment longer than either 
he will tell him, or hear of him, news. If the spirit of his tongue be once 
raised, all the company cannot conjure it down. He teaches his neighboui- 
to work unsent for, and tells him of some dangers without thanks. He com- 
ments upon every action, and answers a question ere it be half propounded. 
Alcibiades having purchased a dog at an unreasonable price, cut off his tail, 
and let him run about Athens ; whiles every man wondered at his intent, ho 
answered that his intent was their wonder, for he did it only to be talked of 
The same author * reports the like of a gawish traveller that came to Sparta, 
who standing in the presence of Lacon a long time upon one leg, that he 
might be observed and admired, cried at the last, 'O Lacon, thou canst 
not stand so long upon one leg.' ' True,' said Lacon; 'but every goose Ciin.' 

• His state, belike, is too little to find him work ; hence he busieth himself 
in other men's commonwealths : as if he were town-taster, he scalds his lips 
in every neighbour's pottage. If this itch proceed from some inflammation, 
liis bleach is the breaking out of contention. Then he hath Immorein in 
cerehro, in corde tumorem, rumorem in lingua, — his brain is full of humour, 
his heart of tumour, his tongue of rumour. He spits fire at every word, and 
doth what he can to set the whole world in combustion. He whispers in his 
neighbour's ear how such a man slandered him ; and returns to the accused 
party (with like security) the other's invective. He is hated of all, as being 
indeed a friend to none, but lawyers and the devil. 

For his cure ; if his itch proceed from a moon-sick head, the chief inten- 
tion is to settle his brains, lest * too much learning make him mad,' as Paul 
was wronged. Acts xxvL 24. Give him this electuary : That ' secret things 
belong to the Lord, and revealed to us and our children for ever,' Deut. xxix. 
29. That the judgments of God are scepe secreta, semper jitsf a ; and there- 
fore it is better mirari, quam rimari. That in seeking to know more than 
he ought, he knows not what he should. That gazing at the stars, he is 
like to fall into the lowest pit. 

If his itch be in his fingers, and that he grows like a meddler in everybody's 
orchard, let him apply this unction : That he meddle with his own business. 
That he recall his prodigal eyes, like wandering Dinah's, home ; and teach 
* Laert. 



Seemox XXV.] THE soul's sicKjs'Ess r>03 

them another while to hiok inward. That he be busy in repairing his own 
heart ; for of other meddling comes no rest 

If this disease proceed from a greater inflation or inflammation, thus sharply 
scarify him : That sowing discord among brethren is that seventh abomina- 
tion to the Lord, Prov. vi. 19. That,:vs troublesome men seek faction, they 
shall meet with fraction ; and as they have a brotherhood in evil, so ' they 
shall be divided in Jacob, and scattered in Israel,' Gen. xlix 7. That cum 
pare contendere, anceps est; cuvi superiore,fariosum: cum infenore, sordi- 
dum* — if thy enemy be equal, yet the victory is doubtful ; if low, parce illi, 
it is no credit to conquer him ; if great, parce tibi, favour thyself, contend 
not. Serva pacem domi, pacem Domini, — Love peace, and the Cod of peace 
shall give thee 'the peace of God, which passcth all understanding.' 

Disease 18 : Slinking Breath, and Flattery. — The tlattcrer hath a disease 
very odious, — fojtorem oris, a stinking breath. The corporal disease is caused, 
first, sometimes through putrefaction of the gums; secondly, sometimes 
through hot distemper of the mouth ; thirdly, sometimes through corrupt 
and rotten humours in the mouth of the stomach ; fourthly, and not seldom, 
through the exulceration of the lungs. The main cause of flattery is a kind 
of self-love ; for he only commends others to mend himself. The communis 
terminus, where all his frauds, dissimidatious, false phrases and praises, his 
admirations and superlative titles, meet, is his purse. His tongue serves 
two masters, his great one's ear, his own avarice. 

If the cause of this stench be in the mouth, it is discerned ; if in the 
vicious stomach, or ulcerate lungs, it is allayed by eating, and not so forcible 
after meats as before. So the flatterer's stomach is well laid after dinner ; 
and till he grow hungr}' again, his adulatory pipes go not so hotly. His 
means come by observance, and though he waits not at table, he serves for 
a fool. He is after the nature of a barber ; and first trims the head of his 
master's humour, and then sprinkles it with court-water. He scrapes out 
bis diet in courtesies ; and cringeth to his glorious object, as a little cur to a 
mastiff, licking his hand, not with a healing, but poisoning tongue, lliches 
make many friends : truly, they arc friends to the riches, not to the rich 
man. A great proud man, because he is admired of a number of hang-byes, 
thinks he hath many friends. So the ass that carried the goddess thought 
all the knees bowed to her, when they reverenced her burden. They play 
like flies in his beams, whUes his wealth warms them. Wlulst, like some 
great oak, he stands liigli and spreads far in the forest, innumerable beasts 
shelter themselves under him, feeding like hogs on his acorns ; but when the 
axe of distress begins to fell him, there is not one left to hinder the blow. 
Like burrs, they stick no longer on his coat than there is a nap on it. These 
kites would not flock to him, but that he is a fat carcase. Sejanus, whom 
the Romans worship in the morning as a scmigod, before night they tear 
a-pieces. Even now stoops, and presently strokes. You may be sure he is 
but a gallipot, full of honey, that these wasps hover about ; and when they 
have fed tlicmselvcs at his cost, they give him a sting for his kindness. 

The flatterer is young gallants' schoolmaster, and enters them into book 
learning. Your cheating tradesman can no more be •without such a factor 
than a usurer without a broker. The fox in the fable, seeing the crow 
highly perched, with a good morsel in his mouth, flattered him that he sung 
well, with no scant commendations of his voice ; whereof the crow proud, 
began to make a noise, and let the meat fall : the foolish bird seeing now 
himself deceived, soon left singing, and the fox fell to eating. I need not 
* Scuct. de Ira, lib. ii., caj). 34. 



50i THE soul's sickness. [Sekmon XXV. 

moral it. The instrument, liis tongue, is tuned to another's ear ; but, like a 
common fiddler, he dares not sing an honest song. He lifts up his patron 
at the tongue's end, and sets him in a superlative height ; Uke a Pharos, or 
the eye of the country, when he is indeed the eye-sore. He swears to him 
that his commending any man is above a justice of peace's letter, and that 
the eyes of the parish wait upon him for his grace. He insuiuates his praise, 
most from others' report ; wherein, very rankly, he wrongs three at once : 
he belies the named commender; the person to whom this commendation is 
sent; and most of aU himself, the messenger. Whilst he supi)lies a man 
with the oil of flattery, he wounds his heart ; like thunder, which breaks the 
bone without scratching the skin. He seldom speaks so pompously of his 
friend, except he be sure of porters to carry it him. He is the proud 
man's earwig, and having once gotten in, imposthumes his head. A conti- 
nent man will easily find him ; as knowing that it is as evil laudari a tur- 
2)ibus, as oh turpia. One being asked which was the worst of beasts, an- 
swered, Of wild beasts the tyrant, of tame beasts the flatterer. Like an Ul 
painter, because he cannot draw a beautiful picture, he is ever limning de- 
formities and devils; so the flatterer, ignorant of goodness, lays fair colours 
upon foul iniquities. This cunning wrestler stoops low, to give the greater 
faU ; and wisheth to his object, as a whore to her lover, abundance of all 
goods, except only sober wits. He studies all the week for preventions to 
keep his patron on the Sunday from church : a sermon and he are antipodes. 
Lest his observed one should take him into the light, and look on him, he 
keeps him perpetually hoodwinked with the opinion of his own knowledge ; 
admiring his deeds for sanctimonious, and his words for oracles. Sometimes 
conscience is his rival advocate, and pleads against Mm in his patron's heart; 
but because the judge is partial on his side, and his perjurious tale runs 
so smooth with the grain of his affections, he gives conscience the check- 
mate. In short, he is, at last, one way a pander, cozenage's factor, sin's ma- 
gician, and a pleasing murderer, that with arrident applauses tickles a man 
to death. 

To cure this stinking breath of adulation, give him a vomit, ' He that 
saith to the wicked. Thou art righteous, him shall the people curse ; nations 
shaU abhor him : but to them that rebuke him shall be delight, and a good 
blessing shall come upon them,' Prov. xxiv. 24, 25. As, ' not serving our 
Lord Jesus Christ, but his own belly, by good words and fair speeches he 
hath deceived the hearts of the simple,' Rom. xvi. 18; so he hath most de- 
ceived himself, and been no less his own fool than others' knave. Tell him 
that his beginning is hateful to God, his end to men also. His great friend 
did no more love him in his dream than he wUl hate him waking ; as a sick 
man, after the receipt of a loathsome potion, hates the very cruse whereout 
he drank it. And lightly, what he hath got by flattering fools, he spends on 
knaves, or worse ; and dies full of nothing but sins and diseases. Let him 
soundly repent, reform himself, and others, whom he hath perverted. Re- 
pentance and obedience can only make his breath sweet. 

Disease 19 : Short-windedness, and Weariness of doing well. — The asthma 
is caused by abundance of gross and clammy humours, gathered into the 
gristles or lappets of the lungs ; or through some distUlatious, wherewith the 
trachea arteria, or windpipe, is replete. 

The causes of this spiritual short-windedness are — (L) Want of faith, which 
is the true life-blood of courage against all difficulties ; (2.) Want of patience, 
to hold out in the Avorking up of salvation ; (3.) A feeble hope, not supposing 
the recompense to be worth their labours. 



Sermon XXV.] the souls sickness. 505 

The signs of both the diseases are palpable : the physician may easily 
judge of his patient, the patient of himself. He i>rays, for a brunt, very zea- 
lously, but like a hasty shower, soon over. Ydu siiall have him the first man 
at church on a S;t1jbath morning, and the first man out. He lays the foun- 
dation of an alms-house, and so leaves it. He shoots up, like Jonah's gourd, 
in a night, and next day withers. He is in religious practices like the 
spring in that windy month, March ; many forwards. He riscth fair as a 
summer sun, but is soon cU)uded ; no man rides fjuster at first putting forth, 
nor is sooner weary of his journey. A little onwards to heaven, he quan- 
daries whether to go forward to God, or, with Demas, to turn back to the 
world. The light of his devotion is ever and anon in the ccUpse, and his 
whole life rings the changes — hot and cold, in and out, off and on, to and 
fro : he is peremptory in nothing but in vicissitudes. He is early up, and 
never the nearer ; saluting Christ in the morning, but none of those that 
stayed with him; therefore losing his reward, because he will not tarry work- 
ing in the vineyard till night. Matt. xv. 32. He purposeth to go to God, 
and in the fit of his devotion tells him so, but still breaks promise. One 
told Socrates that he would fain travel to Olympus, but he feared his ability 
to hold out the journey. Socrates answered him, ' I know you walk every 
day a little ; put that together in a continumg straightness, and you shall 
come whither you desire.' This man rows, as wc all should do, against the 
stream ; and whiles he neglects tw-o or three strokes, he is carried down fur- 
ther in an hour than he can recover in a day. He loves, like a horse, short 
journeys; and walks on so warily, wearily, timorously, that he tells his steps 
and his stops, and reckons every impediment, to a rub and a thorn. 

For his cure. Pro ratione victiis, as they prescribe for the asthma, which 
is a disease in the body, to avoid perturbations of the mind ; so let this or- 
thopnic,* for the help of his mind, avoid needless perturbations of the body. 
He is troubled, like Martha, about many things, but forgets the better part. 
Give him some juice of hulapathum, wliich is the herb patience. ' For he 
hath need of patience, that after he hath done the will of God, he might 
receive the promise,' Heb. x. 3G. He considers not that heaven is up a hill, — 
like Olympus with the heathen. Mount Zion with the Christian, — and there- 
fore thinks to get thither per salium, not per scansum. Assure him that 
'.salvation must be wrought up,' Phil. ii. 12, and ' election made sure by 
diligence,' 2 Pet. i. 10. That vi/icenii dahilur, — not to liim that flies, nor to 
him tliat knocks a bout or two, nor to him that faints and yields, but ' to 
him that overcomes,' Rev, ii., iii. That ' who continues to the end shall be 
saved,' Matt. xxiv. 1 3. That it was a shame to see Lot incestuous with his- 
daughters in the mount, that lived cha.ste in Sodom ; to see Noah mocked 
of his son for drunkenness, by whose righteousness his son scaped. That he 
hath many encouragements, — Chri.st calling, the Father blessing, the Spirit 
working, the angels comfortmg, the word directing, the crown inviting, — all 
tuning him this one lesson, ' Be not weary of well-doing,' 2 Thess. iii. 13 ; 
for ' in due season we shall reap, if we faint not,' Gal. vL 9, and after our 
weary labour find rest, Lsa. xxviii. 12. 

Conclusion. — Innumerable are the body's infirmities : inlroitiis unus, iiinu- 
meri exitus, there being but one means of coming into the world, infinite of 
going out ; and sickness is death's liege arabassailor. IJut they are few and 
scant, if compared to the soul's, which being a better piece of timber, hath the 
more teredines breeding in it ; as the fairest flower hath th.e most cantharides 
attending on it. The devil loves the .soul as the jewel, the body as the rind 
* I siippoae, from o^^^ui and irviya ; one who is choked with tbo right. — Ed. 



506 THE SOUL S SICKNESS. [SeRMON XXV. 

or husk, as if it were without the other a dead commodity, and would stink 
in his hands. He cries, as the king of Sodom to Abraham, Da mihi animas, 
ccetera cape tibi. If he can corrupt this, he knows the other will fall to cor- 
ruption of itself ; for the soul works by motion, the body but by action, 
being the soul's servant. Now, Satan was ever ambitious, and will not care 
for the waiting-maid if he may get the mistress ; or useth the other but for 
his better conveyance and insinuation to this. And because it bears the 
naiTOw portraiture and image of that Creator he emulates, this he seeks the 
more violently to delace. Let the body enjoy the light and warmth of the 
sun, so he can enwrap this in the cold clouds of dark night. A dark night 
indeed, wherein many souls do live, having the little windows or loopholes 
of reason shadowed by the curtains of fleshly lusts. Night is a sad, heavy, 
and uncomfortable time to the unresting body, — a nurse of anguished 
thoughts, at whose dugs sorrows and dreams lie contumally sucking, — 
thinking every hour an Olympiad till the sun ariseth : so is the soul's dark- 
ness, if security had not rocked her asleep, and custom (which is the apoplexy 
of bedrid nature and wicked life) obstupefied her, — an unquiet, turbulent, and 
peaceless time ; with such hurrying tempests within, that the body tumbles 
upon a soft bed, and after many experienced shiftings, finds no ease. 

There be three things, say physicians, that grieve the body : — First, the 
cause of sickness, a contranatural distemper, which lightly men bring on 
themselves, though the sediments rest in our sin-corrupted nature. Secondly, 
sickness itself. Thirdly, the coincidents that either fellow it or follow it. In 
the soul there be three grievances : — First, original pravity, a natural avo,a/a — 
proclivity to evil, contradiction to good. Secondly, actual sin, the main sick- 
ness. Thirdly, the concomitant effects, which are punishments corporal and 
spiritual, temporal and eternal. For all sin makes work, either for Christ 
or Satan : for Christ, to expiate by his blood, and the efficacy of that once- 
performed, ever available passion ; or for the devil, as God's executioner to 
plague. Many remedies are given for many diseases ; the sum is this — the 
best physician is Christ Jesus, the best physic the Scriptures. Ply the one, fly 
to the other. Let this teach thee, he must cure thee : that ' express image of 
his -Father's person, and brightness of his glory,' Heb. i. 3, in whom the graces 
of God shine without measure. Oft have you seen in one heaven many stars ; 
behold in this sun, as in one star, many heavens ; for ' in him dwelleth all 
fulness,' Col. i. 19. Let us fly by our faithful prayers to this physician, and 
entreat him for that medicine that issued out of his side, ' water and blood,' 
to cure all our spiritual maladies. Fusus est sanguis medici, ut fiat medica- 
mentum cegroti. And when in mercy he hath cured us, let our diet be a 
conversation led after the canon of his sacred truth ; that whatsoever be- 
come of this fraU vessel, our flesh, floating on the waves of this world, the 
passenger, our soul, may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus. Amen. 



END OF VOL. I. 



BAI.I.ANTVNE AND COMI'ANY, PRINTERS, EDINBUROH. 



DATE DUE 


«i—«^ 








nwflTW 










< 






****»! 


'^•^ 
















• 






































































































CAYLORD 






PR,.TEO,NU.S. 




}\ 






:Mm \ •• 






</pre>        </div>
      </div>