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, ' Tho