YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

THE WORKS

OF THE

EIGHT BEVEBEND JOSEPH HALL, D. D.

BISHOP OF EXETER AST) AFTERWARDS OF NORWICH.

A NEW EDITION,
EEVISED AND CORRECTED, WITH SOME ADDITIONS,

BY
PHILIP WYNTER, D. D.
PRESIDENT OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, OXFORD.

VOL. VI.

OXFORD:
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
MDCCCLXIII.

CONTENTS.

Page
Heaven upon Earth ; or, of True Peace and Tranquillity of Mind i — 45
The Art of Divine Meditation  46 — 79
A Meditation of Death, according to the former Rules  80 — 88
Characters of Virtues and Vices  89 — 125
Epistles, in Six Decades  126 — 313
A Consolatory Letter to one under Censure  313 — 315
A Letter of Answer to an unknown Complainant, concerning the
Frequent Injecting of Temptations  316, 317
Resolutions for Religion  318 — 323
The Remedy of Profaneness, or the True Sight and Fear of the
Almighty  324—384
Christian Moderation. —
Book I. Of Moderation in Matter of Practice  385 — 442
Book II. Of Moderation in Matter of Judgment  443 — 490
Holy Decency in the Worship of God  491 — 502
The Devout Soul, or Rules of Heavenly Devotion  503 — 538
The Free Prisoner, or the Comfort of Restraint  339 — 550
The Remedy of Discontentment  551 — 394
The Peacemaker, laying forth the Right Way of Peace in Matters
of Religion  595 — 664

HEAVEN UPON EARTH

OP TRUE PEACE AND TRANQUILLITY OF MIND.

BY JOS. HALL,
1627.

TO THE EIGHT HONOURABLE
HENRY EARL OF HUNTINGDON,*
LORD HASTINGS, HUNGERFORD, BOTREAUX, MOLINES, AND MOILES, HIS
MAJESTY'S LIEUTENANT IN THE COUNTIES OF LEICESTER AND
RUTLAND, MY SINGULAR GOOD LORD :
ALL INCREASE OP TRUE HONOUR, AND HEAVEN BEGUN UPON EARTH.

Right honourable, — I have undertaken a great task, to teach men how to
be happy in this life. I have undertaken and performed it. Wherein I have
followed Seneca, and gone beyond him : followed him as a philosopher,
gone beyond him as a Christian, as a Divine : finding it a true censure of
the best moralists, that they were like to goodly ships, graced with great
titles, The Saveguard, The Triumph, The Goodspeed, and such like; when yet
they have been both extremely seabeaten, and at last wrecked. The volume
is little, perhaps the use more. I have ever thought, according to the
Greek proverb, peya ^i/3Xiov peya kokov. What it is, even justice challengeth
it to him to whom the author hath devoted himself. The children of the
bondman are the goods of the parent's master. I humbly betake it to your
honour's protection, and your honour to the protection of the Highest.
Your honour's most humbly devoted, in all duty and service,
JOS. HALL.
« [See Contemplations, book v. vol. i. p. 96.]

HP. HALL, VOL. VI.

The Analysis or Resolution of this Treatise concerning Tranquillity-

' Refutato-
ry: where
the pre
cepts of
the hea
then are

Recited.

Reject ed for

Enumeration insufficient.

Quality of remedies
ttoo weak.

Positive :
which ,
teacheth,

What it is, andwhere-
in it consists.

f Of sins
done;
whosetrouble

( On the
lefthand :

Ene
mies of
peace ¦
subdued ;
whe
therthose

In their
guiltiness
considered.

How turbulent they are, till the
conscience be pacified.

How
reme
died.

'Peace is through Reconci

liation.

Reconciliation, through Re

mission.

Remission, by Satisfaction.

'Not by

'The per

us.

son and
merits of
Christ,

By in

by whom

finite
peace is
Satis- J
merits: -
offered.
. faction,
where
The re
are
ceiving
consi
of our
dered
offered
peace by
.faith.
In their solicitation : remedied by resolute
resistance. Where is the subduing and
moderation of our affections.
' Imaginary : how redressed.
Of pain
suffered :
Crosses
Howprevented, ( Expec-
and prepared < tation.
against by ( Exercise
.True:-!
How to
be
. borne :
' Contentedly, in
respect of then-
cause.
Thankfully, in
respect of their
good effect.
Joyfully, in re-
spect of their
issue.
Death considered \ ^2W Jarful-
( W men way sweetened.
On the
right :
Rules and
grounds of peace
I set down.
Over-
I joying
I Over-
of
) RichesHonour
Plea-
' sure.
I Not good in
How to be ) themselves.
esteemed, as, j Exposing us
( to evil.
Main or principal. A continual fruition ofthe presence
ot Orod, to be renewed to us by all holy exercises.
Subor dinate.
In respect of
our actions.
A resolution
In respect of
. our estate.
To refrain from all occasions
i of the displeasure of God.
I To perform all required duties.
To do nothing doubtingly.
To depend wholly on the pro-
I vidence of God.
I To account our own estate
HEAVEN UPON EARTH
OR,
OF TRUE PEACE OF MIND.

Sect. I.- — Censure of philosophers.
When I had studiously read over the moral writings of some
wise heathen, especially those of the Stoical profession, I must
confess I found a little envy and pity striving together within me :
I envied Nature in them, to see her so witty in devising such plau
sible refuges for doubting and troubled minds : I pitied them, to
see that their careful disquisition of true rest led them, in the end,
but to mere unquietness. Wherein, methought, they were as
hounds swift of foot, but not exquisite in scent ; which in a hasty
pursuit take a wrong way, spending their mouths and courses in
vain. Their praise of guessing wittily they shall not lose ; their
hopes, both they lost and whosoever follows them.
If Seneca could have had grace to his wit, what wonders would
he have done in this kind ! what divine might not have yielded
him the chair, for precepts of tranquillity, without any disparage
ment! As he was, this' he hath gained : never any heathen wrote
more divinely, never any philosopher more probably.
Neither would I ever desire better master, if to this purpose
I needed no other mistress than Nature. But this, in truth, is
a task which Nature hath never without presumption undertaken,
and never performed without much imperfection : like to those
vain and wandering empirics, which in tables and pictures make
great ostentation of cures, never approving their skill to their
credulous patients. And if she could have truly eifected it alone,
I know not what employment in this life she should have left for
Grace to busy herself about, nor what privilege it should have
been here below to be a Christian : since this, that we seek, is the
noblest -work of the soul ; and in which alone consists the only
heaven of this world : this is the sum of all human desires, which
when we have attained, then only we begin to live, and are sure
b %

4 Practical Works.
we cannot thenceforth live miserably. No marvel, then, if all the
heathen have diligently sought after it ; many wrote of it, none
attained it. Not Athens must teach this lesson, but Jerusalem.
Sect. II.— What tranquillity is, and wherein it consists.
Yet something Grace scorneth not to learn of Nature ; as Moses
may take good counsel of a Midianite.
Nature hath ever had more skill in the end than in the way to
it ; and whether she have discoursed of the good estate of tlie
mind, which we call tranquillity, or the best, which is happiness,
hath more happily guessed at the general definition of them, than
of the means to compass them.
She teacheth us, therefore, without controltnent, that the tran
quillity of the mind is, as of the sea and weather, when no wind
stirreth, when the waves do not tumultuously rise and fall upon
each other ; but when the face both of the heaven and waters is
still fair and equable ; that it is such an even disposition of the
heart, wherein the scales of the mind neither rise up towards the
beam through their own lightness or the overweening opinion of
prosperity, nor are too much depressed with any load of sorrow ;
but, hanging equal and unmoved betwixt both give a man liberty
in all occurrences to enjoy himself.
Not that the most temperate mind can be so the master of his
passions as not sometimes to overjoy his grief or overgrieve his
joy, according to the contrary occasions of both : for not the
evenest weights, but at their first putting into the balance some
what sway both parts thereof, not without some show of ine
quality ; which yet, after some little motion, settle themselves in
a meet poise. It is enough, that after some sudden agitation it can
return to itself, and rest itself at last in a resolved peace.
And this due composedness of mind we require unto our tran
quillity, not for some short fits of good mood, which soon after end
in discontentment, but with the condition of perpetuity : for there
is no heart makes so rough weather as not sometimes to admit of
a calm ; and whether for that he knoweth no present cause of his
trouble, or for that he knoweth that cause of trouble is counter
vailed with as great an occasion of private joy, or for that the
multitude of evils hath bred carelessness, the man that is most
disordered finds some respites of quietness. The balances that
are most ill matched in their unsteady motions come to an equal
ity, but not stay at it. The frantic man cannot avoid the im-

Sect. III.] Heaven upon earth. 5
putation of madness, though he be sober for many moons, if he
rage in one.
So then the calm mind must be settled in an habitual rest ; not
then firm when there is nothing to shake it, but then least
shaken when it is most assailed.
Sect. III. — Insufficiency of human precepts. — Seneca's rules of
tranquillity abridged — Rejected as insufficient. — Disposition
ofthe work.
Whence easily appears, how vainly it hath been sought, either
in such a constant estate of outward things as should give
no distaste to the mind, while all earthly things vary with the
weather, and have no stay but in uncertainty ; or in the na
tural temper of the soul, so ordered by human wisdom, as that it
should not be affected with any casual events to either part : since
that cannot ever, by natural power, be held like to itself; but one
while is cheerful, stirring, and ready to undertake ; another while
drowsy, dull, comfortless, prone to rest, weary of itself, loathing
his own purposes, his own resolutions.
In both which, since the wisest philosophers have grounded all
the rules of their tranquillity, it is plain that they saw it afar off,
as they did heaven itself, with a desire and admiration, but knew
not the way to it : whereupon, alas ! how slight and impotent are
the remedies they prescribe for unquietness ! for what is it, that,
for the inconstancy and laziness of the mind, still displeasing itself
in what it doth, and for that distemper thereof which ariseth
from the fearful, unthriving, and restless desires of it, we should
ever be employing ourselves in some public affairs,~choosing our
business according to our inclination, and prosecuting what we
have chosen? wherewith being at last cloyed, we should retire
ourselves, and wear the rest of our time in private studies ? that
we should make due comparative trials of our own ability, nature
of our businesses, disposition of our chosen friends? that in re
spect of patrimony we should be but carelessly affected ; so draw
ing it in, as it may be least for show, most for use ; removing all
pomp, bridling our hopes, cutting off superfluities? for crosses,
to consider that custom will abate and mitigate them; that the
best things are but chains and burdens to those that have them, to
those that use them ; that the worst things have some mixture of
comfort to those that groan under them ? Or, leaving these lower
rudiments, that are given to weak and simple novices, to examine

6 Practical Works.
those golden rules of morality which are commended to the most
wise and able practitioners : what it is to account himself, as a tenant
at will ; to foreimagine the worst in all casual matters ; to avoid
all idle and impertinent businesses, all pragmatical meddling with
affairs of state: not so to fix ourselves upon any one estate, as to
be impatient of a change ; to call back the mind from outward
things, and draw it home into itself; to laugh at and esteem
lightly of others' misdemeanours ; not to depend upon others'
opinions, but to stand on our own bottoms ; to carry ourselves in
an honest and simple truth, free from a curious hypocrisy and af
fectation of seeming other than we are, and yet as free from a base
kind of carelessness ; to intermeddle retiredness with society, so
as one may give sweetness to the other, and both to us, so slack
ening the mind that we may not loosen it, and so bending as we
may not break it ; to make most of ourselves, cheering up our
spirits with variety of recreations, with satiety of meals, and all
other bodily indulgence, saving that drunkenness, methinks, can
neither beseem a wise philosopher to prescribe nor a virtuous
man to practise ? All these, in their kinds, please well, profit much,
and are as sovereign for both these, as they are unable to effect
that for which they are propounded b.
Nature teacheth thee all these should be done; she cannot
teach thee to do them : and yet do all these and no more, let me
never have rest, if thou have it. For, neither are here the
greatest enemies of our peace so much as descried afar off ; nor
those that are noted are hereby so prevented, that, upon most
diligent practice, we can promise ourselves any security : where
with whoso instructed dare confidently give challeno-e to all sinis-
ter events, is like to some skilful fencer, who stands upou his
usual wards and plays well, but if there come a strange fetch of
an unwonted blow, is put beside the rules of his art. and with
much shame overtaken. And for those that are known, believe
me, the mind of man is too weak to bear out itself hereby against
all onsets. There are light crosses, that will take au easy repulse ;
others yet stronger, that shake the house side, but break not in
upon us; others vehement, which by force make way to the
heart ; where they find none, breaking open the door of the soul
that denies entrance ; others violent, that lift the mind off the
hinges, or rend the bars of it in pieces ; others furious, that tear
b Allowed yet by Seneca in his last chapter of Tranquillity.

Sect. IV.] Heaven upon earth. 7
up the very foundations from the bottom, leaving no monument
behind them but ruin. The wisest and most resolute moralist b
that ever was, looked pale when he should taste of his hemlock ;
and by his timorousness made sport to those that envied his spe
culations. The bestc of the heathen emperors, that was honoured
with the title of piety, justly magnified that courage of Christians
which made them insult over their tormentors, and by their
fearlessness of earthquakes and deaths argued the truth of their
religion. It must be, it can be, none but a divine power that can
uphold the mind against the rage of many afflictions; and yet
the greatest crosses are not the greatest enemies to inward peace.
Let us therefore look up above ourselves, and from the rules of
an higher art supply the defects of natural wisdom ; giving such
infallible directions for tranquillity, that whosoever shall follow
cannot but live sweetly and with continual delight ; applauding
himself at home when all the world besides him shall be miser
able. To which purpose it shall be requisite, first to remove all
causes of unquietness, and then to set down the grounds of our
happy rest.
Sect. IV. — Enemies of inward peace divided into their ranks. —
The torment of an evil conscience. — The joy and peace ofthe
guilty but dissembled.
I find, on the one hand, two universal enemies of tranquillity ;
conscience of evil done, sense or fear of evil suffered. The former,
in one word, we call sins ; the latter, crosses : the first of these
must be quite taken away, the second duly tempered, ere the
heart can be at rest. For, first, how can that man be at peace
that is at variance with God and himself? how should peace be
God's gift, if it could be without him, if it could be against him ?
It is the profession of sin, although fairspoken at the first closing,
to be a perpetual makebate betwixt God and man, betwixt a man
and himself.
And this enmity, though it do not continually show itself, as the
mortallest enemies are not always in pitched fields one against the
other ; for that the conscience is not ever clamorous, but some-
while is silent, otherwhile with still murmurings bewrays his mis-
likes ; yet doth evermore work secret unquietness to the heart.
« Socrates. — Cattermole. the Asians concerning the persecuted
d Antoninus Pius, in an Epistle to Christians. [Euseb. Hist. Eccl. l.iv.c. 13.]
\

8 Practical Works.
The guilty man may have a seeming truce ; a true peace he can
not have. Look upon the face of the guilty heart, and thou shalt
see it pale and ghastly ; the smiles and laughters faint and heart
less ; the speeches doubtful, and full of abrupt stops and unseason
able turnings ; the purposes and motions unsteady, and savouring
of much distraction, arguing plainly that sin is not so smooth at
her first motions as turbulent afterwards : hence are those vain
wearyings of places and companies, together with ourselves ; that
the galled soul doth, after the wont of sick patients, seek refresh
ing in variety, and, after many tossed and turned sides, complains
of remediless and unabated torment. Nero, after so much inno
cent blood, may change his bedchamber; but his fiends ever
attend him, ever are within him, and are as parts of himself.
Alas ! what avails it to seek outward reliefs, when thou hast thine
executioner within thee? If thou couldst shift from thyself,
thou mightest have some hope of ease ; now, thou shalt never
want furies, so long as thou hast thyself. Yea, what if thou
wouldst run from thyself? thy soul may fly from thy body; thy
conscience will not fly from thy soul, nor thy sin from thy con
science. Some men, indeed, in the bitterness of these pangs of sin,
like unto those fondly impatient fishes that leap out of the pan
into the flame, have leapt out of this private hell that is in them
selves into the common pit ; choosing to adventure upon the future
pains that they have feared, rather than to endure the present
horrors they have felt : wherein what have they gained, but to
that hell which was within them, a second hell without? The
conscience leaves not where the fiends begin, but both join to
gether in torture.
But there are some firm and obdurate foreheads whose resolu-
lution can laugh their sins out of countenance. There are so
large and able gorges, as that they can swallow and digest bloody
murders without complaint; who with the same hands which
they have since their last meal imbrued in blood can freely carve
to themselves large morsels at the next sitting. Behevest thou
that such a man's heart laughs with his face ? will not he dare to
be an hypocrite that durst be a villain ? These glowworms, when
a night of sorrow compasses them, make a lightsome and fiery
show of joy ; when if thou press thorn thou findest nothing but
a cold and crude moisture. Knowest thou not, that there are
those which count it no shame to sin ; yet count it a shame to be
checked with remorse, especially so as others' eyes may descry

Sect, V.] Heaven upon earth. 9
to whom repentance seems base-mindedness, unworthy of him
that professes wisdom and valour ? Such a man can grieve when
none sees it ; but himself can laugh when others see it ; himself
feels not. Assure thyself, that man's heart bleedeth when his
face counterfeits a smile : he wears out many waking hours when
thou thinkest he resteth : yea, as his thoughts afford him not
sleep, so his very sleep affords him not rest, but while his senses
are tied up, his sin is loose, representing itself to him in the
ugliest shape, and frighting him with horrible and hellish dreams.
And if, perhaps, custom hath bred a carelessness in him, as we
see that usual whipping makes the child not care for the rod ; yet
an unwonted extremity of the blow shall fetch blood of the soul,
and make the back that is most hardened sensible of smart ; and
the farther the blow is fetched, through intermission of remorse,
the harder it must needs alight. Therefore, I may confidently
tell the careless sinner, as that bold tragedian said to his great
Pompey, "The time shall come wherein thou shalt fetch deep
sighs, and therefore shalt sorrow desperately, because thou sor-
rowedst not sooner." The fire, of the conscience may lie for a
time smothered with a pile of green wood, that it cannot be dis
cerned ; whose moisture when once it hath mastered, it sends up
so much greater flame by how much it had greater resistance.
Hope not then to stop the mouth of thy conscience from exclaim
ing while thy sin continues : that endeavour is both vain and
hurtful. So I have seen them that have stopt the nostril for
bleeding, in hope to stay the issue ; when the blood, hindered in
his former course, hath broken out of the mouth or found way
down into the stomach. The conscience is not pacifiable while
sin is within to vex it ; no more than an angry swelling can cease
throbbing and aching while the thorn or the corrupted matter lies
rotting underneath. Time, that remedies all other evils of the
mind, increaseth this ; which, like to bodily diseases, proves worse
with continuance, and grows upon us with our age.
Sect. V. — The remedy qf an unquiet conscience.
There can be therefore no peace without reconciliation : thou
canst not be friends with thyself, till with God : for thy conscience,
which is thy best friend while thou sinnest not, like an honest
servant, takes his Master's part against thee when thou hast
sinned, and will not look straight upon thee till thou upon God ;
not daring to be so kind to thee as to be unfaithful to his Maker.

10 Practical Works.
There can be no reconciliation without remission. God can
neither forget the injury of sin, nor dissemble hatred. It is for
men, and those of hollow hearts, to make pretences contrary to
their affections : soothmg's and smiles and embracements, where
we mean not love, are from weakness ; either for that we fear our
insufficiency of present revenge, or hope for a fitter opportunity
afterwards, or for that we desire to make our further advantage
of him to whom we mean evil. These courses are not incident
into an Almighty power, who, having the command of all venge
ance, can smite where he list, without all doubtings or delays.
There can be no remission without satisfaction. Neither
dealeth God with us as we men with some desperate debtors;
whom, after long dilations of payments, and many days broken, we
altogether let go for disability, or at least dismiss them upon an
easy composition. All sins are debts : all God's debts must be
discharged. It is a bold word, but a true ; God should not be
just, if any of his debts should pass unsatisfied. The "conceit of
the profane vulgar makes him a God of all mercies ; and there
upon hopes for pardon without payment. Fond and ignorant
presumption, to disjoin mercy and justice in him, to whom they
are both essential ; to make mercy exceed justice in him, in whom
both are infinite ! Darest thou hope God can be so kind to thee
as to be unjust to himself? God will be just ; go thou on to pre
sume and perish.
There can be no satisfaction by any recompense of ours. An
infinite justice is offended : an infinite punishment is deserved by
every sin : and every man's sins are as near to infinite as number
can make them. Our best endeavour is worse than finite, imper
fect and faulty : if it could be perfect, we owe it all in present :
what we are bound to do in present cannot make amends for
what we have not done in time past : which while we offer to
God as good payment, we do, with the profane traveller, think
to please him with empty date-shells in lieu of preservation.
Where shall we then find a payment of infinite value but in him,
wliich is only and all infinite ? the dignity of whose person, being
infinite, gave such worth to his satisfaction, that what he suf
fered in short time was proportionable to what we should have
suffered beyond all times. He did all, suffered all, paid all : he
did it for us ; we, in him.
Where shall I begin to wonder at thee, O thou divine and
eternal Peace-maker, the Saviour of men, the Anointed of God

Sect. V.] Heaven upon earth. 1 1
Mediator between God and man : in whom there is nothing which
doth not exceed, not only the conceit, but the very wonder of
angels ; who saw thee in thy humiliation with silence, and adore
thee in thy glory with perpetual praises and rejoicings? Thou
wast for ever of thyself, as God ; of the Father, as the Son ; the
eternal Son of an eternal Father ; not later in being, not less in
dignity, not other in substance ; begotten, without diminution of
him that begot thee, while he communicated that wholly to thee
which he retained wholly in himself, because both were infinite
without inequality of nature, without division of essence : when
being in this estate, thine infinite love and mercy to desperate
mankind caused thee, 0 Saviour, to empty thyself of thy glory,
that thou mightest put on our shame and misery. Wherefore,
not ceasing to be God as thou wert, thou beganst to be what thou
wert not, man ; to the end that thou mightest be a perfect Me
diator betwixt God and man, which wert both in one person ;
God, that thou mightest satisfy ; man, that thou mightest suffer :
that, since man had sinned, and God was offended, thou, which
wert God and man, mightest satisfy God for man. None but
thyself, which art the Eternal Word, can express the depth of
this mystery, that God should be clothed with flesh, come down to
men, and become man ; that man might be exalted into the highest
heavens, and that our nature might be taken into the fellowship
of the Deity : that he, to whom all powers in heaven bowed, and
thought it their honour to be serviceable, should come down to
be a servant to his slaves, a ransom for his enemies; together
with our nature taking up our very infirmities, our shame, our
torments, and bearing our sins without sin : that thou, whom the
heavens were too strait to contain, shouldest lay thyself in an
obscure cratch ; thou, which wert attended of angels, shouldest
be derided of men, rejected of thine own, persecuted by tyrants,
tempted with devils, betrayed of thy servant, crucified among
thieves, and, which was worse than all these, in thine own appre
hension, for the time, as forsaken of thy Father : that thou,
whom our sins had pierced, shouldest, for our sins, both sweat
drops of blood in the garden, and pour out streams of blood upon
the cross.
O the invaluable purchase of our peace ! 0 ransom enough for
more worlds ! Thou, which wert, in the counsel of thy Father,
the Lamb slain from the beginning of time, earnest now, in
fulness of time, to be slain by man for man ; being at once the

12 Practical Works.
Sacrifice offered, the Priest that did offer, and the God to whom
it was offered. How graciously didst thou both proclaim our
peace, as a Prophet, in the time of thy life upon eartli ; and pur
chase it, by thy blood, as a Priest, at thy death ; and now con-
firmest and appliest it, as a King, in heaven ! By thee only it was
procured ; by thee it is proffered. O mercy without example,
without measure ! God offers peace to man : the Holy seeks to
the unjust ; the Potter to the clay ; the King to the traitor. We
are unworthy that we should be received to peace, though we
desired it : what are we then, that we should have peace offered
for the receiving ? An easy condition of so great a benefit ! he
requires us not to earn it, but to accept it of him : what could he
give more ? what could he require less of us ?
Sect. VI. — The receipt of our peace offered by faith. — A corol
lary ofthe benefit of this receipt. — The vain shifts of the
guilty. The purchase therefore of our peace was paid at once, yet
must be severally reckoned to every soul whom it shall benefit.
If we have not a hand to take what Christ's hand doth either
hold or offer, what is sufficient in him cannot be effectual to us.
The spiritual hand, whereby we apprehend the sweet offers of
our Saviour, is faith ; which, in short, is no other than an affi
ance in the Mediator : receive peace, and be happy ; believe, and
thou hast received. From hence it is that we are interested in
all that either God hath promised or Christ hath performed:
hence have we from God both forgiveness and love ; the ground
of all, either peace or glory : hence, of enemies we become more
than friends, sons ; and as sons, may both expect and challenge,
not only careful provision and safe protection on earth, but an
everlasting patrimony above. This field is so spacious, that it
were easy for a man to lose himself in it : and if I should spend
all my pilgrimage in this walk, my time would sooner end than
my way ; wherein I would have measured more paces, were it
not that our scope is not so much to magnify the benefit of our
peace, as to seek how to obtain it.
Behold now, after we have sought heaven and eartli, where
only the wearied dove may find an olive of peace. The appre
hending of this all-sufficient satisfaction makes it ours : upon our
satisfaction we have remission ; upon remission follows reconci
liation ; upon our reconciliation, peace. When, therefore, thy

Sect. VI. J Heaven upon earth. 13
conscience, like a stern sergeant, shall catch thee by the throat,
and arrest thee upon God's debt, let thy only plea be, that thou
hast already paid it : bring forth that bloody acquittance, sealed
to thee from heaven upon thy true faith ; straightway, thou shalt
see the fierce and terrible look of thy conscience changed into
friendly smiles; and that rough and violent hand, that was ready
to drag thee to . prison, shall now lovingly embrace thee, and
fight for thee, against all the wrongful attempts of any spiritual
adversary. 0 heavenly peace, and more than peace, friendship !
whereby alone we are leagued with ourselves, and God with us ;
which whoever wants shall find a sad remembrancer in the midst
of his dissembled jollity, and after all vain strifes shall fall into
many secret dumps, from which his guilty heart shall deny to
be cheered, though all the world were his minstrel. 0 pleasure
worthy to be pitied, and laughter worthy of tears, that is with
out this !
Go then, foolish man ; and when thou feelest any check of thy
sin, seek after thy jocundest companions ; deceive the time and
thyself with merry purposes, with busy games ; feast away thy
cares ; bury them and thyself in wine and sleep : after all these
frivolous deferrings, it will return upon thee when thou wakest,
perhaps ere thou wakest ; nor will be repelled till it have showed
thee thy hell ; nor when it hath showed thee, will yet be repelled.
So the stricken deer, having received a deadly arrow, whose shaft
shaken out hath left the head behind it, runs from one thicket to
another ; not able to change his pain with his places, but finding
his wounds still the worse with continuance. Ah, fool ! thy soul
festereth within ; and is affected so much more dangerously bv
how much less it appeareth. Thou mayest while thyself with
variety; thou canst not ease thee. Sin owes thee a spite, and
will pay it thee ; perhaps when thou art in worse case to sustain
it. This flitting doth but provide for a further violence at last.
I have seen a little stream of no noise, which upon his stop
page hath swelled up, and with a loud gushing hath borne over
the heap of turfs wherewith it was resisted. Thy deathbed shall
smart for these wilful adjournings of repentance ; whereon how
many have we heard raving of their old neglected sins, and fear
fully despairing when they have had most need of comfort ! In
sum, there is no way but this : thy conscience must have either
satisfaction or torment. Discharge thy sin betimes, and be at peace.
He never breaks his sleep for debt that pays when he takes up.

14 Practical Works.
Sect. VII.—- Solicitation of sin remedied.— The ordering of
affections.
Neither can it suffice for peace to have crossed the old scroll
of our sins, if we prevent not the future ; yea, the present very
importunity of temptation breeds unquietness. Sin, where it
hath got a haunt, looketh for more ; as humours, that fall to
wards their old issue ; and, if it be not strongly repelled, doth
near as much vex us with soliciting as with yielding. Let others
envy their happiness, I shall never think their life so much as
quiet whose doors are continually beaten and their morning
sleep broken with early clients ; whose entries are daily thronged
with suitors, pressing near for the next audience : much less,
that, through their remiss answers, are daily haunted with
traitors or other instruments of villany, offering their mischievous
service, and inciting them to some pestilent enterprise. Such are
temptations to the soul : whereof it cannot be rid, so long as it
holds them in any hope of entertainment ; and so long they will
hope to prevail, while we give them but a cold and timorous
denial. Suitors are drawn on with an easy repulse, counting that
as half granted which is but faintly gainsaid. Peremptory an
swers can only put sin out of heart for any second attempts; it
is ever impudent when it meets not with a bold heart : hoping to
prevail by wearying us, and wearying us by entreaties. Let
all suggestions, therefore, find thee resolute: so shall thy soul
find itself at rest ; for as the devil, so sin, his natural brood, flies
away with resistance.
To which purpose, all our heady and disordered affections,
which are the secret factors of sin and Satan, must be restrained
by a strong and yet temperate command of reason and reb>ion :
these if they find the reins loose in their necks, like to the wild
horses of that chaste hunter in the tragedy13, carry us over hills
and rocks, and never leave us till we be dismembered and they
breathless : but, contrarily, if they be pulled in with the sudden
violence of .a strait hand, they fall to plunging and careering ;
and never leave till their saddle be empty, and even then danger
ously strike at their prostrate rider. If there be any exercise of
Christian wisdom, it is in the managing of these unruly affections,
which are not more necessary in their best use than pernicious in
their misgovernance. Reason hath always been busy in under-
6 Seneca, Hippolytus, Act iv. Cattermole. [Line 1065, &c]

.Sect. VII.] Heaven upon earth. 15
taking this so necessary a moderation ; wherein, although she
have prevailed with some of colder temper, yet those which have
been of more stubborn metal, like unto grown scholars, which
scorn the ferule that ruled their minority, have still despised her
weak endeavours. Only Christianity hath this power; which,
with our second birth, gives us a new nature; so that now, if
excess of passions he natural to us as men, the order of them is
natural to us as Christians. Reason bids the angry man say over
his alphabet ere he give his answer; hoping, by this inter
mission of time, to gain the mitigation of his rage : he was never
throughly angry that can endure the recital of so many idle
letters. Christianity gives not rules, but power, to avoid this
short madness. It was a wise speech that is reported of our best
and last cardinal^ I hope that this island either did or shall see ;
who, when a skilful astrologer, upon the calculation of his nati
vity, had foretold him some specialties concerning his future
estate, answered, " Such perhaps I was born ; but since that
time I have been born again, and my second nativity hath
crossed my first." The power of nature is a good plea for those
that acknowledge nothing above nature : but for a Christian to
excuse his intemperateness by his natural inclination, and to say,
" I am born choleric, sullen, amorous," is an apology worse than
the fault. Wherefore serves religion, but to subdue or govern
nature ? We are so much Christians as we can rule ourselves ;
the rest is but form and speculation. Yea, the very thought of
our profession is so powerful, that, like unto that precious stone,
being cast into this sea, it assuageth those inward tempests that
were raised by the affections. The unregenerate mind is not
capable of this power ; and therefore, through the continual
mutinies of his passions, cannot but be subject to perpetual un
quietness. There is neither remedy nor hope in this estate. But
the Christian soul, that hath inured itself to the awe of God and
the exercises of true mortification, by the only looking up at his
holy profession, cureth the burning venom of these fiery serpents
that lurk within him. Hast thou nothing but nature ? resolve
to look for no peace. God is not prodigal, to cast away his best
blessings on so unworthy subjects. Art thou a Christian ? do but
remember thou art so; and then, if thou darest, if thou canst,
yield to the excess of passions.
f [Phillips's Life of Cardinal Pole, part ii. sect. 12.]

16 Practical Works.
Sect. VIII. — The second main enemy to peace, crosses.
^"Hitherto, the most inward and dangerous enemy of our peace ;
which if we have once mastered, the other field shall be fought
and won with less blood. Crosses disquiet us either in their pre
sent feeling' or their expectation : both of them, when they meet
with weak minds, so extremely distempering them, that the pa
tient, for the time, is not himself. How many have we known,
which, through a lingering disease, weary of their pain, weary of
their lives, have made their own hands their executioners ! How
many, meeting with a headstrong grief, which they could not ma
nage, have, by the violence of it, been carried quite from their wits !
How many millions, what for incurable maladies, what for losses,
what for defamations, what for sad accidents to their children, rub
out their lives in perpetual discontentment; therefore hving, because
they cannot yet die, not for that they hke to live ! If there could
be any human receipt prescribed to avoid evils, it would be pur
chased at a high rate : but, both it is impossible that earth should
redress that which is sent from heaven ; and if it could be done,
even the want of miseries would prove miserable : for the mind,
cloyed with continual felicity, would grow a burden to itself,
loathing that, at last, which intermission would have made plea
sant. Give a free horse the full reins, and he will soon tire. Sum
mer is the sweetest season by all consents, wherein the earth is
both most rich with increase, and most gorgeous for ornament;
yet, if it were not received with interchanges of cold frosts and
piercing winds, who could live ? Summer would be no summer, if
winter did not both lead it in and follow it. We may not there
fore either hope or strive to escape all crosses; some, we may:
what thou canst, fly from ; what thou canst not, allay and mitigate.
In crosses, universally, let this be thy rule: Make thyself none;
escape some ; bear the rest ; sweeten all.
Sect. IX. — Of crosses that arise from conceit.
Apprehension gives life to crosses : and if some be simply, most
are as they are taken. I have seen many, which when God hath
meant them no hurt have framed themselves crosses out of ima
gination, and have found that insupportable for weight which in
truth never was, neither had ever any but a fancied being : others
again, laughing out heavy afflictions for which they were be
moaned of the beholders. One receives a deadly wound, and looks

Sect. X.] Heaven upon earth. 17
not so much as pale at the smart : another hears of many losses ;
and, like Zeno, after news of his shipwreck, as altogether passion
less, goes to his rest, not breaking an hour's sleep for that which
would break the heart of some otherse. Greenham, that saint of
ours, whom it cannot disparage that he was reserved for our so
loose an age, can lie spread quietly upon the form, looking for
the chirurgeon's knife ; binding himself as fast with a resolved
patience as others with strongest cords ; abiding his flesh carved,
and his bowels rifled, and not stirring more than if he felt not,
while others tremble to expect, and shrink to feel but the pricking
of a vein. There can be no remedy for imaginary crosses, but
wisdom ; which shall teach us to esteem of all events as they are :
like a true glass, representing all things to our minds in their
due proportion; so as crosses may not seem that are not, nor
little and gentle ones seem great and intolerable. Give thy body
hellebore, thy mind good counsel, thine ear to thy friend ; and
these fantastical evils shall vanish away like themselves.
Sect. X. — Of true and real crosses.
It were idle advice to bid men avoid evils. Nature hath by a
secret instinct taught brute creatures so much, whether wit or sa
gacity : and our self-love, making the best advantage of reason,
will easily make us so wise and careful. It is more worth our
labour, since our life is so open to calamities, and nature to im
patience, to teach men to bear what evils they cannot avoid ; and
how, by a well-disposedness of mind, we may correct the iniquity
of all hard events. Wherein it is hardly credible how much good
art and precepts of resolution may avail us. I have seen one man,
by the help of a little engine, lift up that weight alone which forty
helping hands, by their clear strength, might have endeavoured
in vain. We live here in an ocean of troubles, wherein we can
see no firm land ; one wave falling upon another, ere the former
have wrought all his spite. Mischiefs strive for places, as if they
feared to lose their room if they hasted not. So many good
things as we have, so many evils arise from their privation ; be
sides no fewer real and positive evils that afflict us. To prescribe
and apply receipts to every particular cross were to write a Sal-
meron-like commentary upon Petrarch's Remedies'1 ; and I doubt
* [Fuller's Church History, book ix. and the Canonical Epistles. Among the
§ 64, &c] Latin works of Petrarch, at present so
h Salmeron, one of the earliest of the much neglected, one of the principal is
Jesuits, wrote a voluminous Commentary his treatise "De Reinediis utriusque
on the Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, Fortunse." — Cattermole.
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. C

18 Practical Works.
whether so the work would be perfect ; a life would be too httle
to write it, and but enough to read it.
Sect. XI.— The first remedy of crosses before they come.
The same medicines cannot help all diseases of the body, of
the soul they may. We see fencers give their scholars the same
common rules of position, of warding and wielding their weapon
for offence, for defence, against all comers : such universal pre
cepts there are for crosses.
In the first whereof, I would prescribe Expectation, that either
killeth or abateth evils. For crosses, after the nature of the
cockatrice, die, if they be foreseen ; whether this providence makes
us more strong to resist, or by some secret power makes them
more unable to assault us. It is not credible what a fore-resolved
mind can do, can suffer. Could our English Milo, of whom Spain
yet speaketh since their last peace, have overthrown that furious
beast, made now more violent through the rage of his baiting, if
he had not settled himself in his station, and expected? The
frighted multitude ran away from that over-earnest sport, which
begun in pleasure, ended in terror. If he had turned his back
with the rest, where had been his safety, where his glory and re
ward ? Now he stood still, expected, overcame, by one fact he at
once preserved, honoured, enriched himself. Evils will come never
the sooner for that thou lookest for them; they will come the
easier : it is a labour well lost if they come not, and well bestowed
if they do come. We are sure the worst may come, why should
we be secure that it will not ? Suddenness finds weak minds se
cure, makes them miserable, leaves them desperate. The best
way therefore is, to make things present, in conceit, before they
come, that they may be half past in their violence when they do
come; even as with wooden wasters, we learn to play at the
sharp. As therefore good soldiers exercise themselves long at
the pale, and there use those activities which afterwards thev shall
practise upon a true adversary ; so must we present to ourselves
imaginary crosses, and manage them in our mind, before God
sends them in event. "Now I eat, sleep, digest, all soundly,
without complaint: what if a languishing disease should bereave
me of my appetite and rest? that I should see dainties and loathe
them; surfeiting of the very smell of the thought of the best
dishes? that I should count the lingering hours, and think Heze
kiah s long day returned; wearying myself with changing sides
and wishing any thing but what I am ? how could I take this dis'

Sect. XII.] Heaven upon earth. 19
temper ? Now I have, if not what I would, yet what I need ; as
not abounding with idle superfluities, so not straitened with pe
nury of necessary things : what if poverty should rush upon me
as an- armed man ; spoiling me of all my little that I had, and
send me to the fountain for my best cellar ? to the ground for
my bed ? for my bread, to another's cupboard ? for my clothes,
to the broker's shop or my friend's wardrobe ? how could I brook
this want ? I am now at home, walking in my own grounds ; looking
on my young plants, the hope of posterity ; considering the nature,
advantages, or fears of my soil, enjoying the patrimony of my fa
thers : what if, for my religion, or the malicious sentence of some
great one, I should be exiled from my country ; wandering amongst
those whose habit, language, fashion, my ignorance shall make me
wonder at ; where the solitude of places, and strangeness of per
sons shall make my life uncomfortable ? how could I abide the
smell of foreign smoke ? how should I take the contempt and hard
usage that waits upon strangers V Thy prosperity is idle and ill
spent, if it be not meddled with such forecasting and wisely sus
picious thoughts, if it be wholly bestowed in enjoying, no whit in
preventing : like unto a foolish city, which notwithstanding a dan
gerous situation, spends all her wealth in rich furnitures of cham
bers and state houses ; while they bestow not one shovelfull of earth
on outward bulwarks to their defence : this is but to make our
enemies the happier and ourselves the more readily miserable.
If thou wilt not therefore be opprest with evils, expect and
exercise : exercise thyself with conceit of evils : expect the evils
themselves ; yea, exercise thyself in expectation : so, while the
mind pleaseth itself in thinking, " Yet I am not thus," it prepareth
itself against it may be so. And if some that have been good at
the foils have proved cowardly at the sharp, yet, on the contrary,
who ever durst point a single combat in the field that hath not
been somewhat trained in the fence-school ?
Sect. XII. — The next remedy qf crosses when they are come :
from their author.
Neither doth it a little blunt the edge of evils, to consider
that they come from a Divine hand, whose almighty power is
guided by a most wise providence, and tempered with a fatherly
love. Even the savage creatures will be smitten of their keeper,
and repine not ; if of a stranger, they tear him in pieces. He
strikes me that made me, that moderates the world . why struggle
c2

20 Practical Works.
I with him ? why with myself? Am I a fool or a rebel ? a fool, if I
be ignorant whence my crosses come ; a rebel, if I know it and
be impatient. My sufferings are from a God; from my God:
he hath destined me every dram of sorrow that I feel : " Thus
much thou shalt abide ; and here shall thy miseries be stinted."
All worldly helps cannot abate them : all powers of hell cannot
add one scruple to their weight that he hath allotted me : I must
therefore either blaspheme God in my heart, detracting from his
infinite justice, wisdom, power, mercy, which all stand inviolable,
when millions of such worms as I am are gone to dust ; or else
confess that I ought to be patient. And if I profess I should be
that I will not, I befool myself, and bewray miserable impotency.
But as impatience is full of excuse, it was thine own rash im
providence, or the spite of thine enemy, that impoverished, that
defamed thee : it was the malignity of some unwholesome dish,
or some gross corrupted air, that hath distempered thee. Ah
foolish cur, why dost thou bite at the stone which could never
have hurt thee, but from the hand that threw it? If I wound
thee, what matters it, whether with mine own sword, or thine, or
.another's? God, strikes some immediately from heaven with his
own arm, or with the arm of angels; others he buffets with
their own hands ; some, by the revenging sword of an enemy ;
others, with the fist of his dumb creatures: God strikes in all : his
hand moves theirs. If thou see it not, blame thy carnal eyes. Why
dost thou fault the instrument, while thou knowest the agent ?
Even the dying thief pardons the executioner ; exclaims on his
unjust judge, or his malicious accusers. Either then blame the
first mover or discharge the means ; which as they could not
have touched thee but as from him, so from him they have
afflicted thee justly, wrongfully perhaps as in themselves.
Sect. XIII. — The third antidote qf crosses.
But neither seemeth it enough to be patient in crosses, if we
be not thankful also. Good things challenge more than bare con
tentment. Crosses, unjustly termed evils, as they are sent of him
that is all goodness ; so they are sent for good, and his end cannot
be frustrate. What greater good can be to the diseased man, than
fit and proper physic to recure him ? Crosses are the only medi
cines of sick minds. Thy sound body carries within it a sick soul :
thou feelest it not perhaps : so much more art thou sick, and so
much more dangerously. Perhaps thou labourest of some pie-

Sect. XIV.] Heaven upon earth. 21
thory of pride, or of some dropsy of covetousness, or the staggers
of inconstancy, or some fever of luxury, or consumption of envy,
or perhaps of the lethargy of idleness, or of the frensy of anger :
it is a rare soul that hath not some notable disease : only crosses
are thy remedies. What if they be unpleasant ? they are physic :
it is enough if they be wholesome. Not pleasant taste, but the
secret virtue commends medicines. If they cure thee, they shall
please thee, even in displeasing ; or else thou lovest thy palate
above thy soul. What madness is this ! When thou complaine'st
of a bodily disease thou sendest to the physician, that he may
send thee not savoury, but wholesome potions : thou receivest
them in spite of thine abhorring stomach ; and withal, both
thankest and rewardest the physician. Thy soul is sick : thy
heavenly Physician sees it, and pities thee, ere thou thyself ; and,
unsent to, sends thee, not a plausible, but a sovereign remedy :
thou loathest the savour ; and rather wilt hazard thy life than
offend thy palate ; and instead of thanks, repinest at, revilest the
Physician. How comes it that we love ourselves so little (if at least
we count our souls the best or any part), as that we had rather
undergo death than pain ; choosing rather wilful sickness than
an harsh remedy ? Surely we men are mere fools in the estima
tion of our own good : like children, our choice is led altogether
by show, no whit by substance. We cry after every well-seeming
toy ; and put from us solid proffers of good things : the wise
Arbitrator of all things sees our folly and corrects it : withholding
our idle desires, and forcing upon us the sound good we refuse :
it is second folly in us, if we thank him not. The foolish babe
cries for his father's bright knife or gilded pills: the wiser
father knows that they can but hurt him ; and therefore with
holds them after all his tears: the child thinks he is used
but unkindly : every wise man, and himself at more years, can
say, it was but childish folly in desiring it, in complaining that he
missed it. The loss of wealth, friends, health, is sometimes gain
to us. Thy body, thy estate is worse, thy soul is better ; why
complainest thou ?
Sect. XIV.— The fourth and last part : from their issue.
Nat, it shall not be enough, methinks, if only we be but con
tented and thankful, if not also cheerful, in afflictions ; if that, as
we feel their pain, so we look to their end ; although indeed this
is not more requisite than rarely found, as being proper only to

22 Practical Works.
the good heart. Every bird can sing in a clear heaven, in a tem
perate spring : that one, as most familiar, so is most commended,
that sings merry notes in the midst of a shower or the dead of
winter. Every epicure can enlarge his heart to mirth in the
midst of his cups and dalliance : only the three children can sing
in the furnace; Paul and Silas in the stocks; martyrs at the
stake. It is from heaven that this joy comes, so contrary to all
earthly occasions; bred in the faithful heart, through a serious
and feeling respect to the issue of what he feels, the quiet and
untroubled fruit of his righteousness ; glory, the crown after his
fight ; after his minute of pain, eternity of joy. He never looked
over the threshold of heaven that cannot more rejoice that he
shall be glorious than mourn in present that he is miserable.
Sect. XV. — Ofthe importunity and terror of death.
Yea, this consideration is so powerful that it alone is able to
make a part against the fear or sense of the last and greatest of
all terribles, death itself: which, in the conscience of his own
dreadfulness, justly laughs at all the vain human precepts of tran
quillity ; appalling the most resolute, and vexing the most cheer
ful minds. Neither profane Lucretius, with all his Epicurean rules
of confidence, nor drunken Anacreon, with all his wanton odes,
can shift off the importunate and violent horror of this adversary.
Seest thou the Chaldean tyrant beset with the sacred bowls of
Jerusalem, the late spoils of God's temple ; and, in contempt of
their owner, carousing healths to his queens, concubines, peers;
singing amidst his cups triumphant carols of praise to his molten
and carved gods ? Wouldst thou ever suspect that this high cou
rage could be abated ? or that this sumptuous and presumptuous
banquet, after so royal and jocund continuance, should have any
other conclusion but pleasure? Stay but one hour longer, and
thou shalt see that face that now shines with a ruddy oloss, ac-
cording to the colour of his liquor, look pale and ghastly, stained
with the colours of fear and death ; and that proud hand, which
now lifts up his massy goblets in defiance of God, tremble like a
leaf in a storm ; and those strong knees, which never stooped to
the burden of their laden body, now not able to bear up them
selves, but, loosened with a sudden palsy of fear, one knocking
against tlie other : and all this, for that Death writes him a letter
of summons to appear that night before him ; and accordingly,
ere the next sun, sent two eunuchs for his honourable conveyance

Sect. XVI. Heaven upon earth. 23
into another world. Where now are those delicate morsels, those
deep draughts, those merry ditties, wherewith the palate and ear
so pleased themselves? What is now become of all those cheerful
looks, loose laughters, stately port, revels, triumphs of the feasting
court ? Why doth none of his gallant nobles revive the fainted
courage of their lord with a new cup? or with some stirring jest
shake him out of this unseasonable melancholy? 0 death, how
imperious art thou to carnal minds ! aggravating their misery, not
only by expectation of future pain, but by the remembrance of
the wonted causes of their joy, and not suffering them to see
aught but what may torment them ! Even that monster of the
Caesars, that had been so well acquainted with blood, and never
had found better sport than in cutting of throats ; when now it
came to his own turn, how effeminate, how desperately cowardous
did he show himself! to the wonder of all readers, that he, which
was ever so valiant in killing, should be so womanishly heartless
in dying. Sect. XVI. — The grounds of the fear of death.
There are, that fear not so much to be dead, as to die ; the
very act of dissolution frighting them with a tormenting expecta
tion of a short but intolerable painfulness. Which let if the wis
dom of God had not interposed to timorous nature, there would
have been many more Lucretias, Cleopatras, Ahithophels ; and
good laws should have found little opportunity of execution,
through the wilful funerals of malefactors. For the soul, that
comes into the body without any, at least sensible, pleasure,
departs not from it without an extremity of pain ; which varying
according to the manner and means of separation, yet, in all
violent deaths especially, retaineth a violence not to be avoided,
hard to be endured. And if diseases which are destined toward
death as their end be so painful, what must the end and perfec
tion of diseases be ; since as diseases are the maladies of the body,
so death is the malady of diseases ?
There are that fear not so much to die as to be dead. If the
pang be hitter, yet it is but short ; the comfortless state of the
dead strikes some, that could well resolve for the act of their
passage. Not the worst of the heathen emperors made that
moanful ditty on his death-bed, wherein he bewrayeth to all
memory much feeling pity of his soul for her doubtful and impo-

24 Practical Works.
tent condition after her parture. How doth Plato's worldling
bewail the misery of the grave, besides all respect of paink !
" Woe is me, that I shall lie alone rotting in the silent earth,
amongst the crawling worms, not seeing aught above, not seen."
Very not-being is sufficiently abhorred of nature, if death had
no more to make it fearful. But those that have lived under light
enough to show them the gates of hell after their passage through
the gates of death, and have learned that death is not only hor
rible for our not-being here, but for being infinitely, eternally
miserable in a future world, nor so much for the dissolution of
life, as the beginning of torment ; those cannot, without the
certain hope of their immunity, but carnally fear to die, and hell
ishly fear to be dead. For if it be such pain to die, what is it
to be ever dying? and if the straining and luxation of one joint
can so afflict us, what shall the racking of the whole body, and
the torturing of the soul, whose animation alone makes the body
to feel and complain of smart ? And if men have devised such
exquisite torments, what can spirits, more subtle more malicious!
And if our momentary sufferings seem long, how long shall that
be that is eternal ! And if the sorrows indifferently incident to
God's dear ones upon earth be so extreme, as sometimes to drive
them within sight of despairing, what shall those be that are
reserved only for those that hate him, and that he hateth ! None
but those who have heard the desperate complaints of some guilty
Spira, or whose souls have been a little scorched with these
flames, can enough conceive of the horror of this estate : it being
the policy of our common enemy to conceal it so long, that we
may see and feel it at once ; lest we should fear it before it be
too late to be avoided.
Sect. XVII. — Remedy ofthe last and greatest breach qf peace,
ar ising from dea th .
Now when this great adversary, like a proud giant, comes
stalking out in his fearful shape, and insults over our frail mor
tality, daring the world to match him with an equal champion ;
while a whole host of worldlings show him their backs for fear,
the true Christian, armed only with confidence and resolution
of his future happiness, dares boldly encounter him ; and can
paiK" £*l?lT\(TX- "' T^" KtUn"uu "^^ * «*** «-» «-***-
passage is, atiSjjs Si net! Ktiwtos forofcro™ /xeTaPdMwv.}

Sect. XVII.] Heaven upon earth. 25
wound him in the forehead, the wonted seat of terror; and,
trampling upon him, can cut off his head with his own sword,
and, victoriously returning, can sing in triumph, 0 death, ivhere
is thy sting ? an happy victory ! We die, and are not foiled :
yea, we are conquerors in dying : we could not overcome death,
if we died not. That dissolution is well bestowed that parts the
soul from the body, that it may unite both to God. All our life
here, as that heavenly doctor (Augustin) well terms it, is but a
vital death. How advantageous is that death that determines
this false and dying life, and begins a true one, above all the
titles of happiness !
The Epicure or Sadducee dare not die, for fear of not being :
the guilty and loose worldling dares not die, for fear of being-
miserable : the distrustful and doubting semi-Christian dares not
die, because he knows not whether he shall be or miserable or
not be at ajl : the resolved Christian dares, and would die, because
he knows he shall be happy; and, looking merrily towards heaven,
the place of his rest, can unfeignedly say, " I desire to be dis
solved : I see thee, my home, I see thee, a sweet and glorious
home after a weary pilgrimage, I see thee ; and now, after many
lingering hopes, I aspire to thee. How oft have I looked up at
thee with admiration and ravishment of soul, and by the goodly
beams that I have seen guessed at the glory that is above them !
How oft have I scorned these dead and unpleasant pleasures of
earth, in comparison of thine ! I come now, my joys, I come to
possess you : I come, through pain and death ; yea, if hell itself
were in the way betwixt you and me, I would pass through hell
itself to enjoy you."
And, in truth, if that heathen Cleombrotus1, a follower of the
ancient academy, but upon only reading of his master Plato's
discourses of the immortality of the soul, could cast down himself
headlong from a high rock, and wilfully break his neck, that he
might be possessed of that immortality which he beheved to follow
upon death ; how contented should they be to die that know they
shall be more than immortal, glorious ! He went not in a hate
of the flesh, as the patrician heretics of oldm, but in a blind love to
his soul, out of bare opinion ; we, upon an holy love, grounded
upon assured knowledge : he, upon an opinion of future life ; we,
on knowledge of future glory : he went, unsent for ; we, called
1 [Cic. Tusc. lib. i. c. 34. Oxf. 1783.] Callimach. Epigram. [Epig. 24. Lond. 1741.]
m August, de Hseres.

26 Practical Works.
for by our Maker. Why should his courage exceed ours, since
our ground, our estate, so far exceeds his ?
Even this age, within the reach of our memory, bred that per
emptory Italian, which, in imitation of the old Roman courage,
lest in that degenerated nation there should be no step left of the
qualities of their ancestors, entering upon his torment for killing
a tyrant, cheered himself with this confidence ; " My death is
sharp : my fame shall be everlasting °." The voice of a Roman,
not of a Christian. My fame shall be eternal : an idle comfort !
My fame shall live ; not, my soul live to see it. What shall it
avail thee to be talked of, while thou art not? Then fame only is
precious, when a man lives to enjoy it. The fame that survives
the soul is bootless. Yet even this hope cheered him against the
violence of his death. What should it do us, that (not our fame,
but) our life, our glory after death, cannot die ? He that hath
Stephen's eyes, to look into heaven, cannot but have the tongue
of the saints, Come, Lord : how long ? That man, seeing the
glory of the end, cannot but contemn the hardness of the way.
But, who wants those eyes, if he say and swears that he fears not
death, believe him not : if he protest his tranquillity, and yet
fear death, believe him not : believe him not, if he say he is not
miserable.
Sect. XVIII.— 77ie second rank ofthe enemies of peace. — The
first remedy of an over prosperous estate : tlie vanity and un
profitableness of riches : the first enemy on the right hand.
These are enemies on the left hand. There want not some
on the right, which, with less profession of hostihty, hurt no
less : not so easily perceived, because they distemper the mind
not without some kind of pleasure. Surfeit kills more than
famine. These are the over-desiring and over-joying of these
earthly things. All immoderations are enemies, as to health,
so to peace P. He that desires wants as much as he that hath
nothing. The drunken man is as thirsty as the sweating traveller.
Hence are the studies, cares, fears, jealousies, hopes, griefs,
envies, wishes, platforms of achieving, alterations of purposes, and
a thousand like ; whereof each one is enough to make the life
troublesome. One is sick of his neighbour's field, whose mis
shapen angles disfigure his, and hinder his lordship of entireness :
what he hath is not regarded, for the want of what he cannot
° Mora ocerba, fama perpetita. p Hippocr. Aphor.

Sect. XVIII.] Heaven upon eartli. 27
have. Another feeds on crusts, to purchase what he must leave,
perhaps, to a fool; or, which is not much better, to a prodigal
heir. Another, in the extremity of covetous folly, chooses to die
an unpitied death, hanging himself for the fall of the market,
while the commons laugh at that loss, and in their speeches
epitaph upon him, as on that pope, " He lived as a wolf and died
as a dogl." One cares not what attendance he dances at all
hours, on whose stairs he sits, what vices he soothes, what defor
mities he imitates, what servile offices he doth, in a hope to rise.
Another stomachs the covered head and stiff knee of his inferior ;
angry that other men think him not so good as he thinks himself.
Another eats his own heart with envy at the richer furniture
and better estate or more honour of his neighbour ; thinking his
own not good because another hath better. Another vexeth him
self with a word of disgrace passed from the mouth of an enemy,
which he neither can digest nor cast up ; resolving, because
another will be his enemy, to be his own. These humours are
as manifold as there are men that seem prosperous.
For the avoiding of all which ridiculous and yet spiteful in
conveniences, the mind must be settled in a persuasiort of the
worthlessness of these outward things. Let it know, that these
riches have made many prouder, none better : that, as never
man was, so never wise man thought himself, better for enjoy
ing them. Would that wise philosopher (Socrates) have cast
his gold into the sea, if he had not known he should live more
happily without it? If he knew not the use of riches, he was
no wise man : if he knew not the best way to quietness, he was
no philosopher : now, even by the voice of their oracle, he was
confessed to be both ; yet cast away his gold, that he might be
happy r. Would that wise prophet3 have prayed as well against
riches as poverty? Would so many great men, whereof our
little island hath yielded nine crowned kings while it was held
of old by the Saxons, after they had continued their life in the
throne, have ended it in the cell, and changed their sceptre for a
book, if they could have found as much felicity in the highest
i Boniface VIII. His immediate pre- tainly in a great measure verified in the
decessor, Celestine V, is said to have event. See Bower's History of Popes,
prophesied of this pope, that he would vol. vi. p. tfv.—Cattermole.
enter upon his office like a fox, reign r A proof, that with Christians de-
like a Hon, and die like a dog. Whether serves no credit, but with heathens eom-
the remark was really uttered before, or mands it.
forged after his promotion, it was cer- B Proverbs xxx. 8.—Cattermole.

28 Practical Works.
estate, as security in the lowest ? I hear Peter and John, the
eldest and dearest apostles, say, Gold and silver have I none :
I hear the devil say, All these will I give thee; and they are
mine to give : whether shall I desire to be in the state of these
saints or that devil ? He was therefore a better husband than a
philosopher that first termed riches goods; and he mended the
title well, that, adding a fit epithet, called them goods of fortune ;
false goods ascribed to a false patron. There is no fortune to
give or guide riches : there is no true goodness in riches to be
guided. His meaning then was, as I can interpret it, to teach us
in this title, that it is a chance if ever riches were good to any
In sum, who would account those as riches, or those riches as
goods, which hurt the owner, disquiet others; which the worst
have ; which the best have not ; which those that have not want
not ; which those want that have them ; which are lost in a night,
and a man is not worse when he hath lost them ? It is true of them
that we say of fire and water ; they are good servants, ill masters.
Make them thy slaves, they shall be goods indeed; in use, if
not in nature ; good to thyself, good to others by thee : but if
they be thy masters, thou hast condemned thyself to thine own
galleys. If a servant rule, he proves a tyrant. What madness
is this ! thou hast made thyself at once a slave and a fool. What
if thy chains be of gold ? or if, with Heliogabalus, thou hast made
thee silken halters ? thy servitude may be glorious : it is no less
miserable. Sect. XIX. — The second enemy on the right hand, honour.
Honour, perhaps, is yet better : such is the confused opinion
of those that know little ; but a distinct and curious head shall
find an hard task to define in what point the goodness thereof
consisteth. Is it in high descent of blood ? I would think so, if nature were
tied by any law to produce children like qualitied to their parents.
But although in the brute creatures she be ever thus regular,
that ye shall never find a young pigeon hatched in an eagle's
nest ; neither can I think that true, or if true it was monstrous,
that Nicippus's* sheep should yean a lion ; yet, in the best creature,
which hath his form and her attending qualities from above, with
a likeness of face and features is commonly found an unlikeness
of disposition : only the earthly part follows the seed : wisdom,
t [^Elian. Var. Hist. i. 29.]

Sect. XIX.] Heaven upon earth. 29
valour, virtue, are of another beginning. Shall I bow to a molten
calf, because it was made of golden earrings? Shall I condemn
all honour of the first head, though upon never so noble deserving
because it can show nothing before itself but a white shield ? If
Caesar or Agathocles be a potter's son, shall I contemn him ? Or
if wise Bion be the son of an infamous courtesan, shall the censo
rious lawyer raze him out of the catalogue, with partus sequitur
ventrema ? Lastly, shall I account that good which is incident to
the worst ? Either, therefore, greatness must show some charter
wherein it is privileged with succession of virtue, or else the
goodness of honour cannot consist in blood.
Is it, then, in the admiration and high opinion that others
have conceived of thee, which draws all dutiful respect and
humble offices from them to thee ? 0 fickle good, that is ever in
the keeping of others ! especially of the unstable vulgar, that
beast of many heads ; whose divided tongues, as they never agree
with each other, so seldom (when ever) agree along with them
selves. Do we not see the superstitious Lystrians, that ere-
while would needs make Paul a god against his will, and in
devout zeal drew crowned bulls to the altars of their new Jupiter
and Mercury ? violence can scarce hold them from sacrificing to
him ; now, not many hours after, gather up stones against him ;
having, in their conceits, turned him from a god into a malefactor ;
and are ready to kill him, instead of killing a sacrifice to him.
Such is the multitude, and such the steadfastness of their honour.
There, then, only is true honour, where blood and virtue meet
together : the greatness whereof is from blood ; the goodness,
from virtue. Rejoice, ye great men, that your blood is ennobled
with the virtues and deserts of your ancestors. This only is yours:
this only challengeth all unfeigned respect of your inferiors.
Count it praiseworthy, not that you have, but that you deserve
honour. Blood may be tainted : the opinion of the vulgar can
not be constant : only virtue is ever like itself ; and only wins
reverence, even of those that hate it : without which, greatness is
as a beacon of vice, to draw men's eyes the more to behold it ;
and those that see it dare loath it, though they dare not censure
it. So, while the knee bendeth, the mind abhorreth ; and telleth
the body, it honours an unworthy subject : within itself, secretly,
comparing that vicious great man, on whom his submiss courtesy
is cast away, to some goodly fairbound Seneca's tragedies, that
¦» Olympia. Diog. Laert. [cit. ex Athenseo. 13 lib. ad finem.]

30 Practical Works.
is curiously gilded without ; which if a man open he shall find
Thyestes the tomb of his own children ; or CEdipus the husband
of his own mother ; or some such monstrous part, which he at
once reads and hates.
Sect. XX.— The second remedy of overjoyed prosperity.
Let him think, that not only these outward things are not in
themselves good, but that they expose their owners to misery :
for, besides that God usually punishes our over-loving them with
their loss, (because he thinks them unworthy rivals to himself,
who challengeth all height of love as his only right,) so that the
way to lose is to love much; the largeness moreover either of
affection or estate makes an open way to ruin. While a man
walks on plain ground he falls not; or if he fall, he doth but
measure his length on the ground, and rise again without harm :
but he that climbeth high is in danger of falling ; and if he fall,
of killing. All the sails hoisted give vantage to a tempest;
which, through the mariners' foresight giving timely room thereto,
by their fall deliver the vessel from the danger of that gust,
whose rage now passeth over, with only beating her with waves
for anger that he was prevented. So, the larger our estate is, the
fairer mark hath mischief given to hit ; and, which is worse, that
which makes us so easy to hit makes our wound more deep and
grievous. If poor Codrus's house burn*, he stands by and warms
him with the flame, because he knows it is but the loss of an out
side ; which by gathering some few sticks, straw, and clay, may
with little labour and no cost be repaired : but when the many
lofts of the rich man do one give fire to another, he cries out one
while of his countinghouse ; another while of his wardrobe ; then,
of some noted chest; and, straight, of some rich cabinet: and,
lamenting both the frame and the furniture, is therefore impatient,
because he had something.
Sect. XXI. — The vanity of pleasure; the third enemy
on the right hand.
But if there be any sorceress upon earth, it is pleasure ; which
so enchanteth the minds of men, and worketh the disturbance of
our peace with such secret delight, that foolish men think this
want of tranquillity happiness. She turneth men into swine with
such sweet charms, that thev would not change their brutish
nature for their former reason. " It is a good unquietness," say
" [Juv. Sat. III. 203-223.]

Sect. XXL] Heaven upon earth. 31
they, " that contenteth : it is a good enemy that profiteth." Is
it any wonder that men should be sottish when their reason is
mastered with sensuality ? Thou fool, thy pleasure contents thee !
how much ? how long ? If she have not more befriended thee
than ever she did any earthly favourite ; yea, if she have not
given thee more than she hath herself; thy best delight hath
had some mixture of discontentment ; for either some circum
stance crosseth thy desire, or the inward distaste of thy conscience
(checking thine appetite) permits thee not any entire fruition of
thy joy. Even the sweetest of all flowers hath his thorns ; and
who can determine whether the scent be more delectable or the
pricks more irksome ? It is enough for heaven to have absolute
pleasures ; which if they could be found here below, certainly
that heaven, which is now not enough desired, would then be
feared. God will have our pleasures here, according to the
fashion of ourselves, compounded ; so as the best delights may still
savour of their earth.
See how that great king, which never had any match for
wisdom, scarce ever any superior for wealth, traversed over all
this inferior world with diligent inquiry and observation, and
all to find out that goodness of the children of men which they
enjoy under the sun ; abridging himself of nothing that either
his eyes or his heart could suggest to him ; as what is it that
he could not either know or purchase ? and now, coming home
to himself, after the disquisition of all natural and human things,
complains that, Behold, all is not only vanity, but vexation.
Go, then, thou wise scholar of experience, and make a more
accurate search for that which he sought and missed. Perhaps
somewhere betwixt the tallest cedar in Lebanon and the shrubby
hyssop upon the wall pleasure shrouded herself, that she could
not be descried of him, whether through ignorance or negli
gence ; thine insight may be more piercing ; thy means more
commodious ; thy success happier. If it were possible for any
man to entertain such hopes, his vain experience could not make
him a greater fool : it could but teach him what he is and know
eth not.
And yet, so imperfect as our pleasures are, they have their
satiety ; and as their continuance is not good, so their conclusion
is worse : look to their end, and see how sudden, how bitter it is.
Their only courtesy is to salute us with a farewell, and such a one
as makes their salutation uncomfortable. This Delilah shows and

gg Practical Works.
speaks fair ; but in the end she will bereave thee of thy strength,
of thy sight, yea, of thyself. These gnats fly about thine ears,
and make thee music a while; but evermore they sting ere they
part. Sorrow and repentance is the best end of pleasure ; pain
is yet worse ; but the worst is despair. If thou miss of the first of
these, one of the latter shall find thee, perhaps both. How much
better is it for thee to want a little honey than to be swollen up
with a venomous sting !
Thus then the mind, resolved that these earthly things, honours,
wealth, pleasures, are casual, unstable, deceitful, imperfect, dan
gerous, must learn to use them without trust, and to want them
without grief; thinking still, " If I have them, I have some benefit
with a great charge; if I have them not, with little respect of
others, I have much security and ease in myself:" which once ob
tained, we cannot fare amiss in either estate ; and without which,
we cannot but miscarry in both.
Sect. XXII.— Positive rules of our peace.
All the enemies of our inward peace are thus described and
discomfited. Which done, we have enough to preserve us from
misery : but since we moreover seek how to live well and happily,
there yet remain those positive rules whereby our tranquillity may
be both had, continued, and confirmed.
Wherein I fear not lest I should seem over divine in casting
the anchor of quietness so deep as heaven, the only seat of con
stancy, while it can find no hold at all upon earth. All earthly
things are full of variableness, and therefore, having no stay in
themselves can give none to us. He that will have and hold right
tranquillity must find in himself a sweet fruition of God, and a
feeling apprehension of his presence ; that when he finds manifold
occasions of vexation in these earthly things, he, overlooking them
all, and having recourse to his Comforter, may find in Him such
matter of contentment, that he may pass over all these petty
grievances with contempt; which whosoever wants may be se
cure, cannot be quiet.
The mind of man cannot want some refuge; and, as we say of
the elephant, cannot rest, unless it have something to lean upon.
The covetous man, whose heaven is his chest, when he hears him
self rated and cursed for oppressions, comes home, and seeing his
bags safe, applauds himself against all censurers. The glutton,
when he loseth friends or good name, yet joyeth in his well fur-

Sect. XXII.] Heaven upon earth. 38
nished table and the laughter of his wine; more pleasing himself
in one dish than he can be grieved with all the world's miscar
riage. The needy scholar, whose wealth lies all in his brain, cheers
himself against iniquity of times with the conceit of his know
ledge. These starting holes the mind cannot want when it is hard
driven. Now, when as like to some chased Sisera, it shrouds itself under
the harbour of these Jaels ; although they give it houseroom and
milk for a time; yet at last, either they entertain it with a nail in
the temples, or, being guilty to their own impotency, send it out of
themselves for safety and peace. For if the cross light in that
which it made his refuge, as if the covetous man be crossed in his
riches, what earthly thing can stay him from a desperate frensy ?
or if the cross fall in a degree above the height of his stay, as if
the rich man be sick or dying, wherein all wealth is either con
temned or remembered with anguish, how do all his comforts,
like vermin from a house on fire, run away from him, and leave
him over to his ruin ! while the soul that hath placed his refuge
above is sure that the ground of his comfort cannot be matched
with an earthly sorrow, cannot be made variable by the change
of any event, but is infinitely above all casualties, and without all
uncertainties. What state is there wherein this heavenly stay shall not afford
me, not only peace, but joy ?
Am I in prison ? or in the hell of prisons, in some dark, low,
and desolate dungeon? Lo there, Algerius, that sweet martyr,
finds more light than above, and pities the darkness of our liberty 7.
We have hut a sun to enlighten our world, which every cloud
dimmeth and hideth from our eyes : but the Father of lights, in
respect of whom all the bright stars of heaven are but as the snuff
of a dim candle, shines into his pit ; and the presence of his glo
rious angels make that an heaven to him which the world pur-
posed as an hell of discomfort. What walls can keep out that
infinite Spirit that fills all things ? what darkness can be where
the God of this sun dweiieth ? what sorrow, where he comforteth ?
Am I wandering in banishment ? can I go whither God is not ?
what sea can divide betwixt him and me? Then would I fear
exile, if I could be driven away as well from God as my coun
try. Now he is as much in all earths. His title is alike to all
y Pompon. Alger. Fox, Martyr.
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. D

34 Practical Works.
places, and mine in him. His sun shines to me; his sea or earth
bears me up ; his presence cheereth me whithersoever I go. He
cannot be said to flit that never changeth his host. He alone is a
thousand companions ; he alone is a world of friends. That man
never knew what it was to be familiar with God that complains
of the want of home, of friends, of companions, while God is with
him. Am I contemned of the world ? It is enough for me that I am
honoured of God, of both I cannot. The world would love me
more if I were less friends with God. It cannot hate me so much
as God hates it. What care I to be hated of them whom God
hateth ? He is unworthy of God's favour that cannot think it hap
piness enough without the world's. How easy is it for such a man,
while the world disgraces him, at once to scorn and pity it, that
it cannot think nothing more contemptible than itself!
I am impoverished with losses ; that was never throughly good
that may be lost. My riches will not lose me ; yea, though I
forego all, to my skin, yet have I not lost any part of my wealth ;
for if he be rich that hath something, how rich is he that hath
the Maker and Owner of all things !
I am weak and diseased in body ; he cannot miscarry that hath
his Maker for his Physician. Yet my soul, the better part, is
sound ; for that cannot be weak whose strength God is. How
many are sick in that, and complain not ! I can be content to be
let blood in the arm or foot for the curing of the head or heart.
The health of the principal part is more joy to me than it is trou
ble to be distempered in the inferior.
Let me know that God favours me ; then I have liberty, in
prison; home, in banishment; honour, in contempt; in losses,
wealth; health, in infirmity; hfe, in death; and in all these,
happiness. And surely, if our perfect fruition of God be our complete hea
ven, it must needs be that our inchoate conversing with him is our
heaven imperfectly, aud the entrance into the other : which me
thinks differs from this, not in the kind of it, but in the degree.
For the continuation of which happy society, since strangeness
looseth acquaintance and breedeth neglect, on our part must be a
daily renewmg of heavenly familiarity, by seeking him up, even
with the contempt of all inferior distraction ; bv talking with him
in our secret invocations; by hearing his conference with us; and
by mutual entertainment of each other in the sweet discourses of

Sect. XXIII.] Heaven upon earth. 35
our daily meditations. He is a sullen and unsociable friend that
wants words. God shall take no pleasure in us if we be silent.
The heart that is full of love cannot but have a busy tongue. All
our talk with God is either suits or thanks : in them the Christian
heart pours out itself to his Maker, and would not change this pri
vilege for a world. All his annoyances, all his wants, all his dis
likes are poured into the bosom of his invisible Friend, who likes
us still so much more as we ask more, as we complain more.
0 the easy and happy recourse that the poor soul hath to the
high throne of heaven ! We stay not for the holding out of a
golden sceptre to warn our admission, before which our presence
should be presumption and death. No hour is unseasonable, no
person too base, no words too homely, no fact too hard, no im
portunity too great. We speak familiarly; we are heard, an
swered, comforted. Anotherwhile, God interchangeably speaks
unto us by the secret voice of his Spirit or by the audible sound
of his word : we hear, adore, answer him ; by both which the
mind so communicates itself to God, and hath God so plentifully
communicated unto it, that hereby it grows to such an habit of
heavenliness, as that now it wants nothing, but dissolution, of full
glory. Sect. XXIII. — Tlie subordinate rules of tranquillity, i. For
actions.
Out of this main ground once settled in the heart, like as so
many rivers from one common sea, flow those subordinate resolu
tions which we require as necessary to our peace, whether in re
spect of our actions or our estate.
For our actions, there must be a secret vow passed in the soul,
both of constant refraining from whatsoever may offend that Ma
jesty we rest upon, and, above this, of true and canonical obedi
ence to God, without all care of difficulty, and in spite of all con
tradictions of nature ; not out of the confidence of our own power :
impotent men, who are we, that we should either vow or perform ?
but, as he said, " Give, what thou biddest and bid what thou wilt."
Hence, the courage of Moses durst venture his hand to take up
the crawling and hissing serpent ; hence, Peter durst walk upon
the pavememt of the waves ; hence, that heroical spirit of Luther*,
« The intrepid speech of Luther before well known. See Mosheim's Eccles.
his appearance at the Diet of Worms is Hist. vol. iv. p. 58. ed. 1782. Oatta-mole.
D 2

3(5 Practical Works.
a man made of metal fit for so great a work, durst resolve and
profess to enter into that forewarned city, though there had been
as many devils in their streets as tiles on their houses.
Both these vows, as we once solemnly made by others, so for
our peace we must renew in ourselves. Thus the experienced
mind, both knowing that it hath met with a good friend, and
withal what the price of a friend is, cannot but be careful to re
tain him, and wary of displeasing ; and therefore, to cut off all
dangers of variance, voluntarily takes a double oath of allegiance
of itself to God ; which neither benefit shall induce us to break, if
we might gain a world, nor fear urge us thereto, though we must
lose ourselves.
The wavering heart, that finds continual combats in itself betwixt
pleasure and conscience so equally matched that neither gets the
day, is not yet capable of peace, and, whether ever overcometh,
is troubled both with resistance and victory. Barren Rebekah
found more ease than when her twins struggled in her womb. If
Jacob had been there alone, she had not complained of that pain
ful contention. One while pleasure holds the fort and conscience
assaults it ; which when it hath entered at last by strong hand,
after many batteries of judgments denounced, ere long, pleasure
either corrupts the watch, or by some cunning stratagem finds
way to recover her first hold. So one part is ever attempting and
ever resisting ; betwixt both, the heart cannot have peace; because
it resolves not ; for while the soul is held in suspense, it cannot
enjoy the pleasure it useth, because it is half taken up with fear ;
only a strong and resolute repulse of pleasure is truly pleasant,
for therein the conscience, filling us with heavenly delight, maketh
sweet triumphs in itself as being now the lord of his own do
minions, and knowing what to trust to. No man knows the plea
sure of this thought, " I have done well," but he that hath felt it ;
and he that hath felt it contemns all pleasure to it. It is a false
slander raised on Christianity, that it maketh men dumpish and
melancholic ; for therefore are we heavy because we are not
enough Christians. We have religion enough to mislike pleasures,
not enough to overcome them. But if we be once conquerors
over ourselves, and have devoted ourselves wholly to God, there
can be nothing but heavenly mirth in the soul. Lo here, ye phi
losophers, the true music of heaven, which the good heart continu
ally heareth, and answers it in the just measures of joy. Others
may talk of mirth as a thing they have heard of or vainly fancied ;

Sect. XXIV. Heaven upon earth. 37
only the Christian feels it, and in comparison thereof scorneth the
idle, ribaldish, and scurrilous mirth of the profane.
Sect. XXIV. — 2. Rule for our actions.
And this resolution, which we call for, must not only exclude
manifestly evil actions, but also doubting and suspension of
mind in actions suspected and questionable ; wherein the judg
ment must ever give confident determination one way. For this
tranquillity consisteth in a steadiness of the mind; and how can
that vessel which is beaten upon by contrary waves and winds,
and tottereth to either part, be said to keep a steady course ?
Resolution is the only mother of security.
For instance a: I see that usury, which was wont to be con
demned for no better than a legal theft, hath now obtained with
many the reputation of an honest trade, and is both used by
many and by some defended. It is pity that a bad practice
should find any learned or religious patron. The sum of my
patrimony lieth dead by me, sealed up in the bag of my father :
my thriftier friends advise me to this easy and sure improve
ment : their counsel and my gain prevail : my yearly sums come
in with no cost but of time, wax, parchment : my estate likes it
well, better than my conscience ; which tells me still, he doubts
my trade is too easy to be honest. Yet I continue my illiberal
course, not without some scruple and contradiction; so as my
fear of offence hinders the joy of my profit, and the pleasure of
my gain heartens me against the fear of injustice. I would be
rich with ease, and yet I would not be uncharitable ; I would
not be unjust. All the while I live in unquiet doubts and dis
traction ; others are not so mucli entangled in my bonds as I in
my own. At last, that I may be both just and quiet, I conclude
to refer this case wholly to the sentence of my inward judge, the
conscience ; the advocates, gain and justice, plead on either part
at this bar with doubtful success. Gain informs the judge of a
new and nice distinction ; of toothless and biting interest ; and
brings precedents of particular cases of usury, so far from any
breach of charity or justice, that both parts therein confess them
selves advantaged. Justice pleads even the most toothless usury
a [It had been forbidden by the cent., and afterward 8 per cent., being
Canon law to take any interest upon fixed as the maximum of interest, usury
money lent ; but by the Acts of Henry was by implication legalized.]
VIII, Elizabeth, and James I, 10 per

38 Practical Works.
to have sharp gums; and finds in the most harmless and profit
able practice of it an insensible wrong to the common body,
besides the infinite wrecks of private estates. The weak judge
suspends in such probable allegations, and demurreth, as being
overcome of both, and of neither part; and leaves me yet no
whit more quiet, no whit less uncertain. I suspend my practice
accordingly, being sure it is good not to do what I am not sure
is good to be done : and now gain solicits me as much as justice
did before. Betwixt both, I live troublesomely ; nor ever shall
do other, till, in a resolute detestation, I have whipped this. evil
merchant out of the temple of my heart. This rigour is my
peace; before I could not be well, either full or fasting: uncer
tainty is much pain, even in a more tolerable action.
Neither is it, I think, easy to determine, whether it be worse
to do a lawful act with doubting, or an evil with resolution ;
since that which in itself is good is made evil to me hy my
doubt ; and what is in nature evil is in this one point not evil
to me, that I do it upon a verdict of a conscience : so now mv
judgment offends in not following the truth : I offend not in that
I follow my judgment. Wherein if the most wise God had left
us to rove only according to the aim of our own conjectures, it
should have been less faulty to be sceptics in our actions, and
either not to judge at all, or to judge amiss: but now that he
hath given us a perfect rule of eternal equity and truth, whereby
to direct the sentences of our judgment, that uncertainty, which
alloweth no peace to us, will afford us no excuse before the tri
bunal of Heaven : wherefore, then only is the heart quiet when
our actions are grounded upon judgment, and our judgment upon
truth. Sect. XXV .—Rules for estate: i. Reliance upon the
providence of God.
For his estate, the quiet mind must first roll itself upon the
providence of the Highest : for, whosoever so casts himself upon
these outward things, that in their prosperous estate he rejoiceth,
and, contrarily, is cast down in their miscarriage ; I know not
whether he shall find more uncertainty of rest or more certainty
of unquietness; since he must needs be like a light unballasted
vessel, that rises and falls with every wave, and depends only on
the mercy of wind and water. But, who relies on the inevitable
decree and allseeing providence of God, which can neither be

Sect. XXV.] Heaven upon earth. 39
crossed with second thoughts nor with events unlooked for, lays
a sure ground of tranquillity. Let the world toss how it list,
and vary itself, as it ever doth, in storms and calms, his rest is
pitched aloft, above the sphere of changeable mortality.
To begin is harder than to prosecute : what counsel had God
in the first moulding of thee in the womb of thy mother ? what
aid shall he have in repairing thee from the womb of the earth ?
And if he could make and shall restore thee without thee, why
shall he not much more without thy endeavour dispose of thee ?
Is God wise enough to guide the heavens, and to produce all
creatures in" their kinds and seasons ? and shall he not be able to
order thee alone ?
Thou sayest, " I have friends ; and, which is my best friend, I
have wealth, to make both them and me ; and wit, to put both to
best use." 0 the broken reeds of human confidence ! Who ever
trusted on friends that could trust to himself? Who ever was so
wise as not sometimes to be a fool in his own conceit, ofttimes in
the conceit of others ? Who was ever more discontent than the
wealthy ? Friends may be false ; wealth cannot be but deceitful ;
wit hath made many fools. Trust thou to that, which, if thou
wouldest, cannot fail thee.
Not that thou desirest shall come to pass, but that which God
hath decreed. Neither thy fears nor thy hopes nor vows shall
either foreslow or alter it. The unexperienced passenger, when
he sees the vessel go amiss or too far, lays fast hold on the
contrary part, or on the mast, for remedy : the pilot laughs at his
folly ; knowing that, whatever he labours, the bark will go which
way the wind and his stern directeth it. Thy goods are embarked :
now thou wishest a direct north wind, to drive thee to the Straits ;
and then a west, to run in : and now, when thou hast emptied and
laded again, thou callest as earnestly for the south and south-east,
to return ; and lowrest if all these awswer thee not : as if heaven
and earth had nothing else to do but to wait upon thy pleasure,
and served only to be commanded service by thee. Another,
that hath contrary occasion, asks for winds quite opposite to
thine. He that sits in heaven neither fits thy fancy nor his ; but
bids his winds spit sometimes, in thy face ; sometimes, to favour
thee with a side blast ; sometimes, to be boisterous ; otherwhile,
to be silent, at his own pleasure. Whether the mariner sing or
curse, it shall go whither it is sent. Strive or lie still, thy destiny
shall run on, and what must be shall, be. Not that we should

40 Practical Works.
hence exclude benefit of means, which are always necessarily
included in this wise preordination of all things ; but perplexity
of cares, and wrestling with Providence. 0, the idle and ill-spent
cares of curious men, that consult with stars and spirits for
their destinies under colour of prevention ! If it be not thy
destiny, why wouldest thou know it, what needest thou resist it ?
If it be thy destiny, why wouldest thou know that thou canst not
prevent ? That which God hath decreed is already done in heaven,
and must be done on earth. This kind of expectation doth but
hasten slow evils, and prolong them in their continuance ; hasten
them, not in their event, but in our conceit. Shortly then, if thou
swimmest against the stream of this Providence, thou canst not
escape drowning ; every wave turns thee over, like a porpoise
before a tempest; but if thou swimmest with the stream, do but
cast thine arms abroad, thou passest with safety and with ease ; it
both bears thee up, and carries thee on to the haven, whither God
hath determined thine arrival, in peace.
Sect. XXVI. — The second rule for estate : a persuasion ofthe
goodness and fitness of it for us.
Next to this, the mind of the unquiet man must be so wrought
by these former resolutions, that it be throughly persuaded, the
estate wherein he is, is best of all; if not in itself, yet to him;
not out of pride, but out of contentment : which whosoever want-
eth cannot but be continually vexed with envy and racked with
ambition. Yea, if it were possible to be in heaven without this,
he could not be happy : for it is as impossible for the mind at
once to long after and enjoy, as for a man to feed and sleep at
once. And this is the more to be striven for, because we are all na
turally prone to afflict ourselves with our own frowardness ; un
gratefully contemning all we have for what we would have. Even
the best of the patriarchs could say, 0 Lord, what wilt thou give
me, since I go childless ?
The bondman desires now nothing but liberty; that alone would
make him happy. Once free, forgetting his former thouo-ht, he
wishes some wealth, to make use of his freedom; and says "It
were as good be straited in a place as in ability." Once rich
helongeth after nobility ; thinking it no praise "to be a wealthy
peasant. Once noble, he begins to deem it a base matter to be
subject ; nothing can now content him but a crown. Then it is

Sect. XXVI.] Heaven upon earth. 41
a small matter to rule, so long as he hath but little dominions, and
greater neighbours : he would therefore be an universal monarch.
Whither then? surely it vexeth him as much, that the earth is
so small a globe, so little a molehill ; and that there are no more
worlds to conquer. And now that he hath attained the highest
dignity amongst men, he w7ould needs be a god, conceits his im
mortality, erects temples to his own name, commands his dead
statues to be adored, and, not thus contented, is angry that he
cannot command heaven, and control nature.
0 vain fools ! whither doth our restless ambition climb \ What
shall be at length the period of our wishes? 1 could not blame
these desires, if contentment consisted in having much : but, now
that he only hath much that hath contentment, and that it is as
easily obtained in a low estate, I can account of these thoughts no
better than proudly foolish.
Thou art poor : what difference is there betwixt a greater man
and thee, save that he does his businesses by others, thou doest
them thyself? He hath caters, cooks, bailiffs, stewards, secreta
ries, and all other officers for his several services : thou providest,
dressest, gatherest, receivest, expendest, writest for thyself. His
patrimony is large ; thine earnings small. If Briareus feed fifty
bellies with his hundred hands ; what is he the better than he
that with two hands feedeth one ? He is served in silver ; thou
in a vessel of the same colour, of lesser price ; as good for use,
though not for value. His dishes are more dainty ; thine as well
relished to thee, and no less wholesome. He eats olives, thou
garlic : he mislikes not more the smell of thy sauce than thou
dost the taste of his. Thou wantest somewhat that he hath ; he
wisheth something which thou hast and regardest not. Thou
couldest be content to have the rich man's purse, but his gout
thou wouldest not have : he would have thy health, but not thy
fare. If we might pick out of all men's estates that which is laudable,
omitting the inconveniences, we would make ourselves complete ;
but if we must take all together, we should perhaps little advantage
ourselves with the change : for the most wise God hath so propor
tioned out every man's condition, that he hath some just cause of
sorrow inseparably mixed with other contentments, and hath
allotted to no man living an absolute happiness without some
grievances ; nor to any man such an exquisite misery, as that he
findeth not somewhat wherein to solace himself; the weight whereof

42 Practical Works.
varies according to our estimation of them. One hath much
wealth, but no child to inherit it ; he envies at the poor man's
fruitfulness, which hath many heirs, and no lands, and could be
content with all his abundance to purchase a successor of his own
loins. Another hath many children, little maintenance; he com-
mendeth the careless quietness of the barren, and thinks fewer
mouths and more meat would do better. The labouring man
hath the blessing of a strong body, fit to digest any fare, to
endure any labour ; yet he wisheth himself weaker, on condition
he might be wealthier. The man of nice education hath a feeble
stomach, and, rasping since his last meal, doubts whether he
should eat of his best dish or nothing: this man repines at nothing
more than to see his hungry ploughman feed on a crust, and
wisheth to change estates, on condition he might change bodies
with him.
Say, that God should give thee thy wish : what wouldst thou
desire? "Let me," thou sayest, "be wise, healthful, rich, honour
able, strong, learned, beautiful, immortal." 1 know thou lovest
thyself so well, that thou canst wish all these and more.
But say, that God hath so shared out these gifts, by a most
wise and just distribution, that thou canst have but some of these ;
perhaps but one : which wouldest thou single out for thyself?
Any thing beside what thou hast : if learned, thou wouldest be
strong ; if strong, honourable ; if honourable, long lived. Some
of these thou art already.
Thou fool ! cannot God choose better for thee than thou for
thyself ? In other matches, thou trustest the choice of a skilfuller
chapman. When thou seest a goodly horse in the fail-, though his
shape please thine eye well, yet thou darest not buy him, if a
cunning horseniaster shall tell thee he is faulty ; and art willing
to take a plainer and sounder on his commendation, against thy
fancy. How much more should we in this case allow his choice
that cannot deceive us, that cannot be deceived !
But thou knowest that other thou desirest to be better than
what thou hast : better, perhaps, for him that hath it ; not better
for thee. Liberty is sweet and profitable to those that can use
it, but fetters are better for the frantic man. Wine is good
nourishment for the healthful, poison to the aguish. It is good
for a sound body to sleep in a whole skin ; but he that complains
of swelling sores cannot sleep till it be broken. Hemlock to the
goat and spiders to the monkey turn to good sustenance, which

Sect. XXVII.] Heaven upon earth. 43
to other creatures are accounted deadly. As in diets, so in esti
mation of good and evil, of greater and lesser good, there is
much variety. All palates commend not one dish ; and what
one commends for most delicate, another rejects for unsavoury.
And if thou know what dish is most pleasant to thee, thy Physi
cian knows best which is wholesome. Thou wouldest follow thine
appetite too much ; and, as the French have in their proverb,
wouldest dig thy own grave with thy teeth : thy wise Physician
oversees and overrules thee. He sees, if thou wert more esteemed
thou wouldest be proud ; if more strong, licentious ; if richer, co
vetous ; if healthfuller, more secure : but thou thinkest not thus
hardly of thyself.
Fond man ! what knowest thou future things ? believe thou
him that only knows what would be, what will be. Thou wouldest
willingly go to heaven ; what better guide canst thou have than
hiin that dwells there ? If he lead thee through deep sloughs
and braky thickets, know that he knows this the nearer way,
though more cumbersome. Can there be in him any want of
wisdom, not to foresee the best ? Can there be any want of power,
not to effect the best ? any want of love, not to give thee what
he knows is best ? How canst thou then fail of the best ; since,
what his power can do, and what his wisdom sees should be done,
his love hath done, because all are infinite ? He willeth not things
because they are good; but they are good because he wills
them. Yea, if aught had been better, this had not been. God
willeth what he doth : and if thy will accord not with his, whether
wilt thou condemn of imperfection ?
Sect. XXVII. — The conclusion ofthe whole.
I have chalked out the way of peace : what remaineth but
that we walk along in it? I have conducted my reader to the
mine, yea, to the mint of happiness : and showed him those glo
rious heaps which may eternally enrich him. If, now, he shall
go away with his hands and skirt empty, how is he but worthy
of a miserable want? Who shall pity us, while we have no
mercy on ourselves? Wilful distress hath neither remedy nor
compassion. And, to speak freely, I have oft wondered at this painful folly
of us men, who, in the open view of our peace, as if we were
condemned to a necessary and fatal unquietness, live upon our
own rack ; finding no more joy than if we were under no other

44 Practical Works.
hands but our executioners'. One droopeth under a feigned evil ;
another augments a small sorrow, through impatience ; another
draws upon himself an uncertain evil, through fear : one seeks
true contentment, but not enough ; another hath just cause of
joy, and perceives it not : one is vexed, for that his grounds of
joy are matched with equal grievances; another cannot complain
of any present occasion of sorrow, yet lives sullenly, because he
finds not any present cause of comfort : one is haunted with his
sin; another distracted with his passion: amongst all which, he
is a miracle of all men that lives not some way discontented. So
we live not while we do live, only for that we want either wis
dom or will to husband our lives to our own best advantage.
0 the inequality of our cares ! Let riches or honour be in
question, we sue to them ; we seek for them with importunity,
with servile ambition : our pains need no solicitor ; yea, there is
no way wrong that leads to this end : we abhor the patience to
stay till they inquire for us. And if ever, as it rarely happens,
our desert and worthiness wins us the favour of this proffer, we
meet it with both hands : not daring, with our modest denials, to
whet the instancy and double the entreaties of so welcome suitors.
Yet, lo, here the only true and precious riches, the highest advance
ment of the soul, peace and happiness, seeks for us, sues to us for
acceptation : our answers are coy and overly ; such as we give to
those clients that look to gain by our favours. If our want were
through the scarcity of good, we might yet hope for pity to ease
us : but now that it is through negligence, and that we perish
with our hands in our bosom, we are rather worthy of stripes for
the wrong we do ourselves, than of pity for what we suffer. That
we may and will not, in opportunity of hurting others, is noble
and Christian ; but, in our own benefit, sluggish, and savouring of
the worst kind of unthriftiness.
Sayest thou then, this peace is good to have, but hard to get ?
It were a shameful neglect that hath no pretence. Is difficulty
sufficient excuse to hinder thee from the pursuit of riches, of
preferment, of learning, of bodily pleasures ? Art thou content to
sit shrugging in a base cottage, ragged, famished, because house,
clothes, and food will neither be had without money,. nor money
without labour, nor labour without trouble and painfulness ? Who
is so merciful as not to say, that a whip is the best alms for so
lazy and wilful need ? Peace should not be good if it were not
hard. Go, and, by this excuse, shut thyself out of heaven at thy

Sect. XXVII.] Heaven upon earth. 45
death, and live miserably till thy death, because the good of both
worlds is hard to compass. There is nothing but misery on earth
and in hell below that thou canst come to without labour : and
if we can be content to cast away such immoderate and unsea
sonable pains upon these earthly trifles, as to wear our bodies
with violence, and to encroach upon the night for time to get
them ; what madness shall it seem in us, not to afford a less
labour to that which is infinitely better, and which only gives
worth and goodness to the other ?
Wherefore, if we have not vowed enmity with ourselves, if we
be not in love with misery and vexation, if we be not obstinately
careless of our own good ; let us shake off this unthrifty, dan
gerous, and desperate negligence ; and quicken these dull hearts
to a lively and effectual search of what only can yield them sweet
and abiding contentment ; which once attained, how shall we in
sult over evils, and bid them do their worst ! how shall we, under
this calm and quiet day, laugh at the rough weather and unsteady
motions of the world ! how shall heaven and earth smile upon us,
and we on them ; commanding the one, aspiring to the other !
how pleasant shall our life be, while neither joys nor sorrows can
distemper it with excess ! yea, while the matter of joy that is
within us turns all the most sad occurrences into pleasure, how
dear and welcome shall our death be, that shall but lead us from
one heaven to another, from peace to glory !
Go now, ye vain and idle worldlings, and please yourselves in
the large extent of your rich manors, or in the homage of those
whom baseness of mind hath made slaves to your greatness, or
in the price and fashions of your full wardrobe, or in the wanton
varieties of your delicate gardens, or in your coffers full of red
and white earth ; or, if there be any other earthly thing more
alluring, more precious, enjoy it, possess it, and let it possess you :
let me have only my peace; and let me never want it, till I
envy you.

THE ART OF DIVINE MEDITATION;
PEOFITABLE FOE ALL CHKISTIANS
TO KNOW AND PKACTISE :
EXEMPLIFIED WITH
TWO LAEGE PATTEENS OF MEDITATION;
THE ONE OF ETERNAL LIFE, AS THE END; THE OTHER
OF DEATH, AS THE WAY.

BY JOS. HALL.

TO THE EIGHT WORSHIPFUL
SIR RICHARD LEA, KNT.
ALL INCREASE OF TRUE HONOUR WITH GOD AXD MEN.

Sir,— Ever since I began to bestow myself upon the common good, study
ing wherein my labours might be most serviceable ; I still found they could
be no way so well improved as in that part which concerneth devotion and
the practice of true piety. For, on the one side, I perceived the number
of polemical books rather to breed than end strifes ; and those which are
doctrinal, by reason of their multitude, rather to oppress than satisfy the
reader; wherein, if we write the same things we are judged tedious; if
different, singular. On the other part, respecting the reader, I saw the
brains of men never more stuffed, their tongues never more stirring, their
hearts never more empty, nor their hands more idle. Wherefore, after those
sudden Meditations which passed me without rulea, I was easily induced by
their success, as a small thing moves the willing, to send forth this,' Rule of
Meditation ;' and after my ' Heaven upon Earth,' to discourse, although by way
•• Alluding to his Three Centuries of Meditations and Vows,— Pratt.

Chap. I.] The Art of Divine Meditation. 47
of example, of heaven above. In this Art of mine, I confess to have received
more light from one obscure nameless monk, which wrote some hundred and
twelve years ago, than from the directions of all other writers. I would hi6
humility had not made him niggardly of his name, that we might have known
whom to have thanked. It had been easy to have framed it with more curi
osity; but God and my soul know, that I made profit the scope of my labour,
and not applause ; and therefore to choose, I wished rather to be rude than
unprofitable. If now the simplicity of any reader shall bereave him of the
benefit of my precepts, I know he may make his use of my examples. Why
I have honoured it with your name, I need not give account to the world,
which already knoweth your worth and deserts, and shall see by this that I
acknowledge them. Go you on happily, according to the heavenly advice of
your Junius, in your worthy and glorious profession ; still bearing yourself
as one that knoweth virtue the truest nobility, and religion the best virtue.
The God whom you serve shall honour you with men, and crown you in
heaven. To his grace I humbly commend you; requesting you only to ac
cept the work, and continue your favour to the author.
Your Worship's humbly devoted
JOS. HALL.

CHAPTER I.
The benefit and uses qf meditation. — Which are universal to all
Christians, and not to be appropriated to some professions.
It is not, I suppose, a more bold than profitable labour, after
the endeavours of so many contemplative men, to teach the art of
meditation : an heavenly business as any that belongeth either to
man or Christian ; and such as whereby the soul doth unspeak
ably benefit itself. For by this do we ransack our deep and false
hearts; find out our secret enemies; buckle with them, expel
them ; arm ourselves against their re-entrance : by this, we make
use of all good means, fit ourselves to all good duties ; by this we
descry our weakness ; obtain redress ; prevent temptations ; cheer
up our solitariness ; temper our occasions of delight ; get more
light unto our knowledge, more heat to our affections, more life
tp our devotion : by this, we grow to be, as we are, strangers
upon earth ; and out of a right estimation of all earthly things
into a sweet fruition of invisible comforts: by this, we see our
Saviour, with Stephen ; we talk with God, as Moses : and by
this we are ravished, with blessed Paul, into paradise ; and see
that heaven, which we are loath to leave, which we cannot
utter. This alone is the remedy of security and worldliness, the
pastime of saints, the ladder of heaven, and, in short, the best

48 Practical Works.
improvement of Christianity. Learn it who can, and neglect it
who list; he shall never find joy, neither in God nor in himself,
which doth not both know and practise it.
And, however of old some bidden cloisters have engrossed it to
themselves, and confined it within their cells, who indeed, profess
ing nothing but contemplation, through their immunity from those
cares which accompany an active life, might have the best leisure
to this business ; yet, seeing there is no man so taken up with
action as not sometimes to have a free mind ; and there is no
reasonable mind so simple as not to be able both to discourse
somewhat and to better itself by her secret thoughts ; I deem it
an envious wrong to conceal that from any whose benefit may be
universal. Those that have but a little stock had need to know
the best rules of thrift.
Chap. II. — The description and kinds of meditation.
The rather, for that whereas our divine meditation is nothing
else but a bending of the mind upon some spiritual object through
divers forms of discourse, until our thoughts come to an issue ;
and this must needs be either extemporal, and occasioned by out
ward occurrences offered to the mind, or deliberate and wrought
out of our own heart ; which again is either in matter of know
ledge, for the finding out of some hidden truth, and convincing
of an heresy by profound traversing of reason ; or in matter of
affection, for the enkindling of our love to God : the former of
these two last, we, sending to the schools and masters of con
troversies, search after the latter ; which is both of larger use,
and such as no Christian can reject, as either unnecessary or over-
difficult : for, both every Christian had need of fire put to his
affections ; and weaker judgments are no less capable of this
divine heat, which proceeds not so much from reason as from
faith. One saith, and I believe him, that God's school is more of
affection than understanding: both lessons very needful, very
profitable ; but for this age especially the latter : for if there be
some that have much zeal, little knowledge ; there are more that
have much knowledge without zeal : and he that hath much skill
and no affection may do good to others by information of judg
ment, but shall never have thank, either of his own heart or of
God, who useth not to cast away his love on those of whom he is
but known, not loved.

Chap. III.] The Art of Divine Meditation. 49
Chap. III. — Concerning meditation extemporal.
Of extemporal meditation there may be much use, no rule;
forasmuch as our conceits herein vary according to the infinite
multitude of objects, and their diverse manner of proffering them
selves to the mind ; as also for the suddenness of this act. Man
is placed in this stage of the world, to view the several natures
and actions of the creature ; to view them, not idly, without his
use, as they do him. God made all these for man, and man for
his own sake. Both these purposes were lost, if man should let
the creatures pass carelessly by him ; only seen, not thought
upon. He only can make benefit of what he sees ; which if he
do not, it is all one as if he were blind or brute. Whence it
is that wise Solomon putteth the sluggard to school unto the
ant, and our Saviour sendeth the distrustful to the lily of the
field. In this kind was that meditation of the divine Psalmist ;
which, upon the view of the glorious frame of the heavens, was
led to wonder at the merciful respect God hath to so poor a
creature as man. Thus our Saviour took occasion of the water
fetched up solemnly to the altar from the well of Shilo on the
day of the great Hosannah, to meditate and discourse of the
water of life. Thus holy and sweet Augustin, from occasion of
the watercourse near to his lodging, running among the pebbles,
sometimes more silently, sometimes in a baser murmur, and some
times in a shriller note, entered into the thought and discourse
of that excellent order which God hath settled in all these inferior
things. Thus that learned and heavenly soul of our late Estye,
when we sat together and heard a sweet concert of music, seemed
upon this occasion carried up for the time beforehand to the
place of his rest, saying, not without some passion, " What music
may we think there is in heaven !" Thus lastly, for who knows
not that examples of this kind are infinite? that faithful and
reverend Deeringb, when the sun shined on his face, now lying on
his deathbed, fell into a sweet meditation of the glory of God
and his approaching joy. The thoughts of this nature are not
only lawful, but so behoveful, that we cannot omit them without
neglect of God, his creatures, ourselves. The creatures are half
lost, if we only employ them, not learn something of them : God
is wronged, if his creatures be unregarded ; ourselves most of all,
if we read this great volume of the creatures, and take out no
lesson for our instruction. b [See Fuller's Ch. Hist. B. ix. 22.]
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. E

50 Practical Works.
Chap. IV. — Cautions of extemporal meditation.
Wherein yet caution is to be had, that our meditations be not
either too farfetched or savouring of superstition. Farfetched
I call those which have not a fair and easy resemblance unto the
matter from whence they are raised ; in which case our thoughts
prove loose and heartless, making no memorable impression in
the mind. Superstitious, when we make choice of those grounds
of meditation which are forbidden us, as teachers of vanity ; or
employ our own devices, though well-grounded, to an use above
their reach ; making them, upon our own pleasures, not only
furtherances, but parts of God's worship : in both which our
meditations degenerate, and grow rather perilous to the soul.
Whereto add, that the mind be not too much cloyed with too
frequent iteration of the same thought ; which at last breeds a
weariness in ourselves, and an unpleasantness of that conceit
which at the first entertainment promised much delight. Our
nature is too ready to abuse familiarity in any kind ; and it is
with meditations as with medicines , which, with over-ordinary
use, lose their sovereignty, and fill instead of purging. God
hath not straited us for matter, having given us the scope of the
whole world ; so that there is no creature, event, action, speech,
which may not afford us new matter of meditation. And that
which we are wont to say of fine wits, we may as truly affirm of
the Christian heart, that it can make use of -any thing. Where
fore, as travellers in a foreign country make every sight a lesson,
so ought we in this our pilgrimage. Thou seest the heaven roll
ing above thy head in a constant and immovable motion; the
stars so overlooking one another, that the greatest show little,
the least greatest, all glorious ; the air full of the bottles of rain,
or fleeces of snow, or divers forms of fiery exhalations ; the sea,
under one uniform face, full of strange and monstrous shapes
beneath ; the earth so adorned with variety of plants, that thou
canst not but tread on many at once with every foot; besides
the store of creatures that fly about it, walk upon it, live in it.
Thou idle truant, dost thou learn nothing of so many masters ?
Hast thou so long read these capital letters of God's great book,
and canst thou not yet spell one word of them ? The brute crea
tures see the same things with as clear, perhaps better eyes : if
thine inward eyes see not their use, as well as thy bodily eyes
their shape, I know not whether is more reasonable or less
brutish.

Chap. VI. ] The Art of Divine Meditation. SI
Chap. V. — Of meditation deliberate. — Wherein, first, the quali
ties qf the person : — qf ivhom is required, first, that he be pure
from his sins.
Deliberate meditation is that we chiefly inquire for ; which
both may be well guided, and shall be not a little furthered by
precepts : part whereof the labours of others shall yield us ; and
part, the plainest mistress, experience.
Wherein order requires of us, first, the qualities of the person
fit for meditation ; then the circumstances, manner, and proceed
ings of the work.
The hill of meditation may not be climbed with a profane foot :
but, as in the delivery of the Law, so here, no beast may touch
God's hill, lest he die; only the pure of heart have promise
to see God. Sin dimmeth and dazzleth the eye, that it cannot
behold spiritual things. The guard of heavenly soldiers was
about Elisha's servant, before : he saw them not before, through
the scales of his infidelity. The soul must therefore be purged
ere it can profitably meditate. And as of old they were wont to
search for and thrust out malefactors from the presence, ere they
went to sacrifice ; so must we our sins, ere we offer our thoughts
to God. First, saith David, I will wash my hands in innoceucy,
then I will compass thine altar. Whereupon, not unfitly, did
that worthy chancellor of Paris make the first stair of his ladder
of contemplation humble repentance. The cloth that is white,
which is wont to be the colour of innocency, is capable of any
dye ; the black, of none other. Not that we require an absolute
perfection ; which, as it is incident unto none, so if it were, would
exclude all need and use of meditation; but rather an honest
sincerity of the heart, not willingly sinning, willingly repenting
when we have sinned : which whoso finds in himself, let him not
think any weakness a lawful bar to meditation. He that pleads
this excuse is hke some simple man, which, being half starved
with cold, refuseth to come near the fire, because he findeth not
heat enough in himself.
Chap. VI. — Secondly, that he be free from worldly thoughts.
Neither may the soul that hopeth to profit by meditation suf
fer itself for the time entangled with the world, which is all one
as to come to God's flaming bush on the hill of visions with our
shoes on our feet. Thou seest the bird whose feathers are limed
unable to take her former flight ; so are we, when our thoughts
E 2

52 Practical Works.
are dinged together by the world, to soar up to our heaven in
meditation. The pair of brothers must leave their nets if they
will follow Christ ; Elisha his oxen, if he will attend a prophet.
It must be a free and a light mind that can ascend this mount of
contemplation, overcoming this height, this steepness. Cares are
an heavy load and uneasy ; these must be laid down at the bottom
of this hill if we ever look to attain the top. Thou art loaded
with household cares, perhaps public ; I bid thee not cast them
away ; even these have their season, which thou canst not omit
without impiety ; I bid thee lay them down at thy closet door
when thou attemptest this work. Let them in with thee, thou
shalt find them troublesome companions, ever distracting thee
from thy best errand. Thou wouldest think of heaven, thy barn
comes in thy way ; or perhaps thy 'count book, or thy coffers; or,
it may be, thy mind is beforehand travelling up on the morrow's
journey. So while thou thinkest of many things, thou thinkest of
nothing ; while thou wouldest go many ways, thou standest still.
And as in a crowd, while many press forward at once through
one door none proceedeth ; so when variety of thoughts tumult-
uously throng in upon the mind, each proveth a bar to the other,
and all an hinderance to him that entertains them.
Chap. VII. — Thirdly, that he be constant; and that, first, in
time and matter.
And as our client of meditation must both be pure and free
in undertaking this task, so also constant in continuing it ; con
stant both in time and in matter ; both in a set course and
hour reserved for this work, and in an unwearied prosecution of
it once begun. Those that meditate by snatches and uncertain
fits, when only all other employments forsake them, or when
good motions are thrust upon them by necessity, let them never
hope to reach to any perfection ; for these feeble beginnings of
lukewarm grace, which are wrought in them by one fit of serious
meditation, are soon extinguished by intermission, and by mis-
wonting perish. This day's meal, though large and liberal,
strengthens thee not for to-morrow ; the body languisheth if there
be not a daily supply of repast. Thus feed thy soul by meditation.
Set thine hours -and keep them, and yield not to an easy dis
traction. There is no hardness in this practice but in the begin
ning ; use shall give it, not ease only, but delight. Thy companion
entertaineth thee this while in loving discourses, or some unex-

Chap. VIII.] The Art of Divine Meditation. 53
pected business offers to interrupt thee ; never any good work
shall want some hinderance ; either break through the lets, except
it be with incivility or loss ; or if they be importunate, pay thyself
the time that was unseasonably borrowed, and recompense thine
omitted hours with the double labours of another day. For thou
shalt find that deferring breeds, besides the loss, an indisposition
to good ; so that what was before pleasant to thee, being omitted,
to-morrow grows harsh, the next day unnecessary, afterward
odious. To-day thou canst, but wilt not ; to-morrow thou couldest,
but listest not ; the next day thou neither wilt nor canst bend thy
mind on these, thoughts. So I have seen friends, that upon neglect
of duty grow overly ; upon overliness, strange ; upon strangeness,
to utter defiance. Those whose very trade is divinity, methinks,
should omit no day without his line of meditation; those which
are secular men, not many ; remembering that they have a common
calling of Christianity to attend, as well as a special vocation in
the world ; and that other, being more noble and important, may
justly challenge both often and diligent service.
Chap. VIII. — Secondly, that he be constant in the continuance.
And as this constancy requires thee to keep day with thyself,
unless thou wilt prove bankrupt in good exercises ; so also that thy
mind should dwell upon the same thought without flitting, without
weariness, until it have attained to some issue of spiritual profit ;
otherwise it attempteth much, effecteth nothing. What availeth
it to knock at the door of the heart, if we depart ere we have an
answer ? What are we the warmer if we pass hastily along by the
hearth and stay not at it ? Those that do only travel through
Afric become not blackamoors ; but those which are born there,
those that inhabit there. We account those damsels too light of
their love which betrothe themselves upon the first sight, upon the
first motion ; and those we deem of much price which require long
and earnest soliciting. He deceiveth himself that thinketh grace
so easily won ; there must be much suit and importunity ere it
will yield to our desires. Not that we call for a perpetuity of this
labour of meditation ; human frailty could never bear so great a toil.
Nothing under heaven is capable of a continual motion without
complaint ; it is enough for the glorified spirits above to be ever
thinking and never weary. The mind of man is of a strange
metal; if it be not used, it rusteth ; if used hardly, it breaketh :
briefly, it is sooner dulled than satisfied with a continual medi-

54 Practical Works.
tation. Whence it came to pass that those ancient monks who
intermeddled bodily labour with their contemplations proved so
excellent in this divine business ; when those at this day, which
having mewed and mured up themselves from the world, spend
themselves wholly upon their beads and crucifix, pretending
no other work but meditation, have cold hearts to God, and to
the world show nothing but a dull shadow of devotion ; for that,
if the thoughts of these latter were as divine as they are super
stitious, yet being without all interchangeableness bent upon the
same discourse, the miud must needs grow weary, the thoughts
remiss and languishing, the objects tedious ; while the other re
freshed themselves with this wise variety ; employing the hands
while they called off the mind, as good comedians so mix their
parts, that the pleasantness of the one may temper the austere-
ness of the other ; whereupon they gained both enough to the
body, and to the soul more than if it had been all the while busied.
Besides, the excellency of the object letteth this assiduity of me
ditation, which is so glorious, that, like unto the sun, it may abide
to have an eye cast upon it for a while, will not be gazed upon ;
whosoever ventureth so far, loseth both his hope and his wits. If
we hold with that blessed Monica d, that such like cogitations are
the food of the mind ; yet even the mind also hath her satiety,
and mav surfeit of too much. It shall be sufficient therefore that
we persevere in our meditation without any such affectation of
perpetuity, and leave without a light fickleness ; making always
not our hour-glass, but some competent increase of our devotion,
the measure of our continuance ; knowing that, as for heaven, so
for our pursuit of grace, it shall avail us little to have begun well
without perseverance ; and withal, that the soul of man is not al
ways in the like disposition, but sometimes is longer in settling,
through some unquietness or more obstinate distraction; sometimes
heavier, and sometimes more active and nimble to despatch. Ger-
son, whose authority (saving our just quarrel against him for the
Council of Constance e), I rather use because our adversaries dis
claim him for theirs, professeth he hath been sometimes four hours
together working his heart ere he could frame it to purpose ; a sin
gular pattern of unwearied constancy, of an unconquerable spirit,
whom his present unfitness did not so much discourage as it whetted
(I [The mother of St. Augustine.] rome of Prague.— L'Enfant, Hist, du
c [Alluding probably to the active Cone, de Const, lib ii. c. S3.]
part he took at the Council against Je-

Chap. IX.J The Art of Divine Meditation. 55
him to strive with himself till he could overcome. And surely
other victories are hazardous ; this certain if we will persist to
strive : other fights are upon hope ; this upon assurance, while
our success dependeth upon the promise of God, which cannot dis
appoint us. Persist therefore, and prevail ; persist till thou hast
prevailed ; so that which thou begannest with difficulty shall end
in comfort.
Chap. IX. — Ofthe circumstances qf meditation : — and therein,
first, of the place.
From the qualities of the person we descend towards the action
itself: where first we meet with those circumstances which are
necessary for our predisposition to the work, place, time, site of
the body.
Solitariness of place is fittest for meditation. Retire thyself
from others if thou wouldest talk profitably with thyself. So
Jesus meditates alone in the mount; Isaac in the fields; John
Baptist in the desert ; David on his bed ; Chrysostom in the
hath : each in several places, but all solitary. There is no place
free from God, none to which he is more tied ; one finds his closet
most convenient, where his eyes, being limited by the known
walls, call the mind, after a sort, from wandering abroad ; another
findeth his soul more free when it beholdeth his heaven above
and about him. It matters not, so he be solitary and silent. It was
a witty and divine speech of Bernard, that the Spouse ofthe Soul,
Christ Jesus, is bashful, neither willingly cometh to his bride in
the presence of a multitude. And hence is that sweet invitation
which we find of her : Come, my ivell beloved, let us go forth into
the fields; let us lodge in the villages. Let us go up early to the
vines : let us see if the vine flourish, whether it hath disclosed
the first grape ; or whether the pomegranates blossom : there
will I give thee my love. Abandon therefore all worldly society,
that thou mayest change it for the company of God and his angels :
the society, I say, of the world ; not outward only, but inward
also. There be many that sequester themselves from the visible
company of men, which yet carry a world within them ; who being
alone in body, are haunted with a throng of fancies ; as Jerome,
in his wildest desert, found himself too oft in his thoughts amongst
the dances of the Roman dames. This company is worse than the
other ; for it is more possible for some thoughtful men to have a
solitary mind in the midst of a market, than for a man thus dis-

56 Practical Works.
posed to be alone in a wilderness. Both companies are enemies
to meditations; whither tendeth that ancient counsel of a great
master in this art, of three things requisite to this business, secresy,
silence, rest : whereof the first excludeth company ; the second,
noise ; the third, motion. It cannot be spoken how subject we
are in this work to distraction ; like Solomon's old man, whom
the noise of every bird wakeneth. Sensual delights we are not
drawn from with the threefold cords of judgment, but our spi
ritual pleasures are easily hindered. Make choice therefore of
that place which shall admit the fewest occasions of withdrawing
thy soul from good thoughts ; wherein also even change of places
is somewhat prejudicial ; and I know not how it falls out, that we
find God nearer us in the place where we have been accustomed
familiarly to meet him : not for that his presence is confined to
one place above others ; but that our thoughts are, through custom,
more easily gathered to the place where we have ordinarily con
versed with him. Chap. X. — Secondly, ofthe time.
One time cannot be prescribed to all : for neither is God bound
to hours, neither doth the contrary disposition of men agree in
one choice of opportunities. The golden hours of the morning
some find fittest for meditation ; when the body, newly raised, is
well calmed with his late rest ; and the soul hath not as yet had
from these outward things any motives of alienation. Others
find it best to learn wisdom of their reins in the night ; hoping,
with Job, that their bed will bring them comfort in their medita
tion ; when, both all other things are still, and themselves,
wearied with these earthly cares, do, out of a contempt of them,
grow into greater liking and love of heavenly things. I have
ever found Isaac's time fittest, who went out in the evening to
meditate. No precept, no practice of others, can prescribe to us
in this circumstance. It shall be enough, that, first, we set our
selves a time ; secondly, that we set apart that time wherein we
are aptest for this service. And as no time is prejudiced with
unfitness, but every day is without difference seasonable for this
work, so especially God's day. No day is barren of grace to the
searcher of it ; none alike fruitful to this : which being by God
sanctified to himself, and to be sanctified by us to God, is privi
leged with blessings above others : for the plentiful instruction of
that day stirreth thee up to this action, and fills thee with matter ;

Chap. XL] The Art of Divine Meditation. 57
and the zeal of thy public service warmeth thy heart to this other
business of devotion. No manna fell to the Israelites on their
sabbath ; our spiritual manna falleth on ours most frequent. If
thou wouldest have a full soul, gather as it falls ; gather it by
hearing, reading, meditation : spiritual idleness is a fault this day,
perhaps not less than bodily work.
Chap. XI. — Ofthe site and gesture ofthe body.
Neither is there less variety in the site and gesture of the
body ; the due composedness whereof is no little advantage to this
exercise. Even in our speech to God, we observe not always one
and the same position : sometimes, we fall grovelling on our faces ;
sometimes, we bow our knees ; sometimes, stand on our feet ;
sometimes, we lift up our hands ; sometimes, cast down our eyes.
God is a spirit ; who therefore, being a severe observer of the
disposition of the soul, is not scrupulous for the body ; requiring
not so much that the gesture thereof should be uniform as
reverent. No marvel, therefore, though in this all our teachers
of meditation have commended several positions of body, according
to their disposition and practice ; one, (Gerson,) sitting with the
face turned up to heavenward, according to the precept of the
philosopher, who taught him, that by sitting and resting the mind
gathereth wisdom: another, (Guliel. Paris. f) leaning to some rest
towards the left side, for the greater quieting of the heart : a
third, (Dionys. Carthus.S) standing with the eyes lift up to heaven ;
but shut for fear of distractions. But of all other, methinketh,
Isaac's choice the best, who meditated walking. In this, let every
man be his own master ; so be, we use that frame of body that
may both testify reverence, and in some cases help to stir up
further devotion ; which also must needs be varied, according to
the matter of our meditation. If we think of our sins, Ahab's
soft pace, the publican's dejected eyes, and his hand beating his
breast, are most seasonable : if of the joys of heaven, Stephen's
countenance fixed above, and David's hands lift up on high, are
most fitting. In all which the body, as it is the instrument and
vassal ofthe soul, so will easily follow the affections thereof; and,
in truth, then is our devotion most kindly, when the body is thus
commanded his service by the spirit, and not suffered to go before
it, and by his forwardness to provoke his master to emulation.
' ["Gulielmus Episo. Paris, patria Alvernus." Trithem.]
e [Dionysius a Kickel surnamed ' ' Doctor Ecstaticus."]

58 Practical Works.
Chap. XII. — Ofthe matter and subject of our meditation.
Now time and order call us from these circumstances to the
matter and subject of meditation: which must be divine and
spiritual, not evil nor worldly. 0 the carnal and unprofitable
thoughts of men ! We all meditate : one, how to do ill to others ;
another, how to do some earthly good to himself; another, to
hurt himself under a colour of good ; as how to accomplish his
lewd desires, the fulfilling whereof proveth the bane of the soul ;
how he may sin unseen, and go to hell with the least noise of the
world. Or perhaps some better minds bend their thoughts upon
the search of natural things ; the motions of every heaven and of
every star ; the reason and course of the ebbing and flowing of
the sea ; the manifold kinds of simples that grow out of the earth,
and creatures that creep upon it, with all their strange qualities
and operations ; or perhaps the several forms of government
and rules of state take up their busy heads : so that, while they
would be acquainted with the whole world, they are strangers at
home ; and while they seek to know all other things, they re
main unknown of themselves. The God that made them, the
vileness of their nature, the danger of their sins, the multitude of
their imperfections, the Saviour that bought them, the heaven
that he bought for them, are in the mean time as unknown, as
unregarded, as if they were not. Thus do foolish children spend
their time and labour in turning over leaves to look for painted
babes, not at all respecting the solid matter under their hands.
We fools, when will we be wise, and, turning our eyes from
vanity, with that sweet singer of Israel, make God's statutes
our song and meditation in the house of our pilgrimage ? Earthly
things proffer themselves with importunity ; heavenly things must
with importunity be sued to. Those, if they were not so little
worth would not be so forward, and heing forward need not any
meditation to solicit them ; these, by how much more hard they
are to entreat, by so much more precious they are being obtained,
and therefore worthier our endeavour. As then we cannot go
amiss so long as we keep ourselves in the track of divinity, while
the soul is taken up with the thoughts either of the Deity in
his essence and persons, (sparingly yet in this point, and more in
faith and admiration than inquiry,) or of his attributes, his justice,
power, wisdom, mercy, truth ; or of his works, in the creation,
preservation, government of all things ; according to the Psalmist,
i" will meditate of the beauty of thy glorious Majesty, and thy
wonderful works ; so most directly in our way, and best fitting

Chap. XIV.] The Art of Divine Meditation. 59
our exercise of meditation, are those matters in divinity which can
most of all work compunction in the heart, and most stir us up to
devotion. Of which kind are the meditations concerning Christ
Jesus our Mediator; his incarnation, miracles, life, passion, burial,
resurrection, ascension, intercession; the benefit of our redemption,
the certainty of our election, the graces and proceeding of our
sanctification, our glorious estate in paradise lost in our first parents,
our present vileness, our inclination to sin, our several actual
offences, the temptations and sleights of evil angels, the use of the
sacraments, nature and practice of faith and repentance, the
miseries of our life, with the frailty of it, the certainty and uncer
tainty of our death, the glory of God's saints above, the awfulness
of judgment, the terrors of hell ; and the rest of this quality ;
wherein both it is fit to have variety, for that even the strongest
stomach doth not always delight in one dish, and yet so to change
that our choice may be free from wildness and inconstancy.
Chap. XIII. — The order ofthe work itself.
Now, after that we have thus orderly suited the person and his
qualities, with the due circumstances of time, place, disposition of
body, and substance of the matter discussed, I know not what can
remain besides the main business itself, and the manner and de
grees of our prosecution thereof; which, above all other, calleth
for an intentive reader and resolute practice. Wherein, that we
may avoid all niceness and obscurity, since we strive to profit, we
will give direction for the entrance, proceeding, conclusion of this
divine work.
Chap. XIV. — The entrance into the work :— i. The common
entrance, which is prayer.
A goodly building must show some magnificence in the gate ;
and great personages have seemly ushers to go before them, who
by their uncovered heads command reverence and way.
Even very poets of old had wont, before their ballads, to im
plore the aid of their gods ; and the heathen Romans entered
not upon any public civil business without a solemn appreca-
tion of good success : how much less should a Christian dare to
undertake a spiritual work of such importance, not having craved
the assistance of his God; which, methinks, is no less than to
profess he could do well without God's leave. When we think
evil, it is from ourselves ; when good, from God. As prayer is our
speech to God, so is each good meditation, according to Bernard

60 Practical Works.
God's speech to the heart; the heart must speak to God, that
God may speak to it. Prayer therefore and meditation are as
those famous twins in the story, or as two loving turtles, whereof
separate one, the other languisheth : prayer maketh way for
meditation ; meditation giveth matter, strength, and hfe to our
prayers ; by which, as all other things are sanctified to us, so we
are sanctified to all holy things. This is as some royal eunuch,
to perfume and dress our souls, that they may be fit to converse
with the King of Heaven. But the prayer that leadeth in medi
tation would not be long, requiring rather that the extension and
length should be put into the vigour and fervency of it ; for that
is not here intended to be the principal business, but an introduc
tion to another, and no otherwise than as a portal to this building
of meditation. The matter whereof shall be, that the course of
our meditation may be guided aright and blessed ; that all dis
tractions may be avoided, our judgment enlightened, our inven
tions quickened, our wills rectified, our affections whetted to
heavenly things, our hearts enlarged to God- ward, our devotion
enkindled : so that we may find our corruptions abated, our graces
thriven, our souls and lives every way bettered by this exercise.
Chap. XV. — Particular and proper entrance into the matter,
wliich is in our choice thereof.
Such is the common entrance into this work. There is another
yet more particular and proper'wherein the mind, recollecting
itself, maketh choice of that theme or matter whereupon it will
bestow itself for the present, settling itself on that which it hath
chosen ; which is done by an inward inquisition made into our
heart of what we both do and should think upon, rejecting what
is unexpedient and unprofitable. In both which the soul, like
unto some noble hawk, lets pass the crows and larks, and such
other worthless birds that cross her way, and stoopeth upon a fowl
of price, worthy of her flight ; after this manner.
" What wilt thou muse upon, 0 my soul ? Thou seest how
little it availeth thee to wander and rove about in uncertainties ;
thou findest how little favour there is in these earthly things
wherewith thou hast wearied thyself. Trouble not thyself any
longer, with Martha, about the many and needless thoughts of
the world ; none but heavenly things can afford thee comfort.
Up then, my soul, and mind those things that are above, whence
thyself art ; amongst all which, wherein shouldest thou rather

Chap. XVI.] The Art of Divine Meditation. 61
meditate than of the life and glory of God's saints 1 A worthier
employment thou canst never find, than to think upon that estate
thou shalt once possess, and now desirest."
Chap. XVI. — The proceeding qf our meditation; and therein a
method allowed, by some authors rejected by us.
Hitherto the entrance. After which our meditation must
proceed in due order, not troubledly, not preposterously. It
begins in the understanding, endeth in the affection ; it begins
in the brain, descends to the heart ; begins on earth, ascends to
heaven ; not suddenly, but by certain stairs and degrees, till we
come to the highest.
I have found a subtle scale of meditation, admired by some
professors of this art above all other human devices, and far
preferred by them to the best directions of Origen, Austin, Ber
nard, Hugo Bonaventure, Gerson, and whosoever hath been re
puted of greatest perfection in this skill. The several stairs
whereof, lest I should seem to defraud my reader through envy,
I would willingly describe, were it not that I feared to scare him
rather with the danger of obscurity from venturing further upon
this so worthy a business ; yet, lest any man perhaps might com
plain of an unknown loss, my margin shall find room for that
which 1 hold too knotty for my textd. In all which, after the
d The scale of meditation of an author, ancient but nameless.
Degrees of Preparation.
i Question. What I { *Jj^ thmk_
2 Excussion. A repelling of what I should not think.
3 Choice, "| ("necessary.
or > Of what most < expedient.
Election. J [comely.
Degrees qf Proceeding in the Understanding.
4 Commemoration. An actual thinking upon the matter elected.
„ ., fA redoubled commemoration of the same till it be
5 Considerafaon. | folly known.

6 Attention . .
7 Explanation
8 Tractation.
9 Dijudication
io Causation. .
n Rumination

f A fixed and earnest consideration, whereby it is
' \ fastened in the mind.
A clearing of the thing considered by similitudes.
J" An extending the thing considered to other points,
' \ where all questions of doubts are discussed.
, An estimation of the worth of the thing thus handled.
A confirmation of the estimation thus made.
f A sad and serious meditation of all the former, till it
' \ may work upon the affections.
From hence to the degrees of affection.

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incredible commendations of some practitioners, I doubt not but
an ordinary reader will easily espy a double fault at the least,
darkness and coincidence ; that they are both too obscurely de
livered, and that divers of them fall into other, not without some
vain superfluity. For this part therefore, which concerneth the
understanding, I had rather to require only a deep and firm con
sideration of the thing propounded ; which shall be done, if we
follow it in our discourse through all or the principal of those
places which natural reason doth afford us. Wherein, let no man
plead ignorance, or fear difficulty ; we are all thus far born logi
cians, neither is there in this so much need of skill as of industry.
In which course yet we may not be too curious, in a precise search
of every place and argument, without omission of any, though to
be fetched in with racking the invention ; for as the mind, if it go
loose, and without rule, roves to no purpose ; so if it be too much
fettered with the gyves of strict regularity, moveth nothing at all.
Chap. XVII. — Premonitions concerning our proceeding in the
first part of meditation.
Ere I enter, therefore, into any particular tractation, there are
three things whereof I would premonish my reader, concerning
this first part, which is in the understanding.
First, that I desire not to bind every man to the same uniform
proceeding in this part. Practice and custom may perhaps have
taught other courses, more familiar and not less direct. If then
we can, by any other method, work in our hearts so deep an ap
prehension of the matter meditated, as it may duly stir the affec
tions, it is that only we require.
Secondly, that whosoever applieth himself to this direction,
think him not necessarily tied to the prosecution of all these logi
cal places, which he findeth in the sequel of our treatise ; so as
his meditation should be lame and imperfect without the whole
number : for there are some themes which will not bear all these ;
as, when we meditate of God, there is no room for causes or com
parisons ; and others yield them with such difficulty, that their
search interrupted the chief work intended. It shall be sufficient
if we take the most pregnant and most voluntary.'
Thirdly, that when we stick in the disposition of any of the
places following, (as if, meditating of sin, I cannot readily meet
with the material and formal causes, or the appendances of it,) we
rack not our minds too much with the inquiry thereof; which

Chap. XIX.] The Art qf Divine Meditation. 63
were to strive more for logic than devotion ; but, without too
much disturbance of our thoughts, quietly pass over to the next.
If we break our teeth with the shell, we shall find small pleasure
in the kernel.
Now then, for that my only fear is lest this part of my dis
course shall seem over-perplexed unto the unlearned reader, I
will, in this whole process, second my rule with his example ; that
so, what might seem obscure in the one may by the other be ex
plained ; and the same steps he seeth me take in this, he may
accordingly tread in any other theme.
Chap. XVIII. — The practice of meditation, ivherein, first, we
begin ivith some description qf that we meditate of.
First, therefore, it shall be expedient to consider seriously,
what the thing is whereof we meditate.
" What then, 0 my soul, is the life of the saints, whereof thou
studiest? Who are the saints, but those which, having been
weakly holy upon earth, are perfectly holy above ? which even
on earth were perfectly holy in their Saviour, now are so in
themselves? which, overcoming on earth, are truly canonized in
heaven? What is their life, but that blessed estate above,
wherein their glorified soul hath a full fruition of God 1"
Chap. XIX. — Secondly, follows an easy and voluntary division
of the matter meditated.
The nature whereof, after we have thus shadowed out to our
selves by a description ; not curious always, and exactly framed
according to the rules of art, but sufficient for our own conceit ;
the next is, if it shall seem needful, or if the matter will bear or
offer it, some easy and voluntary division, whereby our thoughts
shall have more room made for them, and our proceeding shall be
more distinct.
" There is a life of nature ; when thou, my soul, dwellest in
this body, and informest thine earthly burden : there is a life of
grace ; when the Spirit of God dwells in thee : there is a life of
glory ; when the body being united to thee, both shall be united
to God ; or when, in the mean time, being separated from thy
companion, thou enjoyest God alone. This life of thine therefore,
as the other hath his ages, hath his statures : for it entereth upon
his birth when thou passest out of thy body, and changest this
earthly house for an heavenly : it enters into his full vigour, when,

64 Practical Works.
at the day of the common resurrection, thou resumest this thy
companion; unlike to itself, like to thee, like to thy Saviour;
immortal now, and glorious. In this life here, may be degrees ;
there, can be no imperfection. If some be like the sky, others
like the stars; yet all shine. If some sit at their Saviour's right
hand, others at his left; all are blessed. If some vessels hold
more, all are full ; none complaineth of want, none envieth him
that hath more.
Chap. XX. — 3. A consideration ofthe causes thereof, in all
kinds qfthem.
Which done, it shall be requisite for our perfecter understanding,
and for the laying grounds of matter for our affection, to carry it
through those other principal places and heads of reason which
nature hath taught every man, both for knowledge and ampli
fication ; the first whereof are the causes, of all sorts.
" Whence is this eternal life, but from him which only is eter
nal; which only is the fountain of life; yea, life itself? Who but
the same God that gives our temporal life giveth also that eternal ?
the Father bestoweth it, the Son meriteth it, the Holy Ghost
seals and applieth it. Expect it only from him, 0 my soul, whose
free election gave thee the first title to it, to be purchased by the
blood of thy Saviour. For thou shalt not therefore be happy, be
cause he saw that thou wouldest be good ; but therefore art thou
good, because he hath ordained thou shalt be happy. He hath
ordained thee to life ; he hath given thee a Saviour, to give this
life unto thee ; faith, whereby thou mightest attain to this Saviour ;
his word, by which thou mightest attain to this faith : what is
there in this not his ? And yet, not his so simply, as that it is
without thee; without thy merit indeed, not without thine act.
Thou livest here, through his blessing, but by bread ; thou shalt
live above, through his mercy, but by thy faith below, appre
hending the Author of thy life. And yet, as he will not, save thee
without thy faith, so thou canst never have faith without his gift.
Look to him, therefore, 0 my soul, as the beginner and finisher
of thy salvation ; and while thou magnifiest the Author be ravished
with the glory of the work, which far passeth both the tongue
of angels and the heart of man. It can no be good thing that is
not there. How can they want water that have the spring?
Where God is enjoyed, in whom only all things are good, what
good can be wanting. And what perfection of bliss is there

Chap. XXII.] The Art qf Divine Meditation. 65
where all goodness is met and united ! In thy presence is ful
ness of joy ; and at thy right hand are pleasures for evermore.
0 blessed reflection of glory ! we see there as we are seen ; in that
we are seen, it is our glory; in that we see, it is God's glory ;
therefore doth he glorify us, that our glory should be to his. How
worthy art thou, 0 Lord, that through us thou shouldest look at
thyself!" Chap. XXI. — 4. The consideration ofthe fruits and effects.
The next place shall be the fruits and effects following upon
their several causes ; which also affords very feeling and copious
matter to our meditation ; wherein it shall be ever best not so
much to seek for all, as to choose out the chiefest.
"No marvel then, if from this glory proceed unspeakable joy;
and from this joy, the sweet songs of praise and thanksgiving.
The Spirit bids us, when we are merry, sing ; how much more
then, when we are merry without all mixture of sorrow, beyond
all measure of our earthly affections, shall we sing joyful hallelu
jahs and hosannahs to him that dweiieth in the highest heavens !
Our hearts should be so full that we cannot choose but sing, and
we cannot but sing melodiously. There is no jar in this music, no
end of this song. 0 blessed change of the saints ! they do nothing
but weep below, and now nothing but sing above. We sowed in
tears, reap in joy ; there was some comfort in those tears when
they were at worst, but there is no danger of complaint in this
heavenly mirth. If we cannot sing here with angels, On earth
peace, yet there we shall sing with them, Glory to Qod on high;
and, joining our voices to theirs, shall make up that celestial
concert which none can either hear or bear part in and not be
happy." Chap. XXII. — 5. Consideration ofthe subject wherein or
whereabout it is.
After which comes to be considered the subject, either wherein
that is, or whereabout that is employed, which we meditate of; as,
" And indeed what less happiness doth the very place promise
wherein this glory is exhibited ? which is no other than the para
dise of God. Here below we dwell, or rather we wander, in a
continued wilderness ; there we shall rest us in the true Eden ;
I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse. Kings use
not to dwell in cottages of clay, but in royal courts fit for their
estate ; how much more shall the King of heaven, who hath pre-
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. F

66 Practical Works.
pared for men so fair mansions on earth, make himself an habit
ation suitable to his Majesty ! Even earthly princes have dwelt in
cedar and ivory ; but the great city, Holy Jerusalem, the palace
ofthe Highest, hath her walls of jasper, her building of gold, her
foundation of precious stones, her gates of pearl : How glorious
tilings are spoken qf thee, 0 thou city of God ! We see but the
pavement, and yet how goodly it is ! The believing Centurion
thought himself unworthy that Christ should come under his roof;
yet wert thou, 0 Saviour, in thine humbled estate, in the form of
a servant ; how then shall I think myself worthy to come under
this roof of thine, so shining and glorious ? 0 if this clay of mine
may come to this honour above, let it be trampled upon and de
spised on earth."
Chap. XXIII. — 6. Consideration ofthe appendances and
qualities of it.
Sixthly shall follow the appendances and quahties which cleave
unto the subject whereof we meditate ; as,
" But were the place less noble and majestical, yet the company
which it affordeth hath enough to make the soul blessed ; for not
the place giveth ornament to the guest so much as the guest to
the place. How loath are we to leave this earth only for the society
of some few friends in whom we delight, which yet are subject
every day to mutual dislikes ! what pleasure shall we then take
in the enjoying of the saints, when there is nothing in them not
amiable, nothing in us that may cool the fervour of our love!
There shalt thou, my soul, thyself glorified, meet with thy dear
parents and friends alike glorious, never to be severed. There thou
shalt see and converse with those ancient worthies of the former
world, the blessed patriarchs and prophets, with the crowned
martyrs and confessors, with the holy apostles and the fathers of
that primitive and this present church, shining each one according
to the measure of his blessed labours. There shalt thou live fa
miliarly in the sight of those angels whom now thou receivest good
from, but seest not. There, which is the head of all thy felicity,
thine eyes shall see Him whom now thy heart longeth for ; that
Saviour of thine, in the only hope of whom now thou livest. Alas!
how dimly and afar off dost thou now behold him ! how imperfectly
dost thou enjoy him, while every temptation bereaves thee for the
time of his presence ! / sought him whom my soul loveth ; I
sought him, but found him not. His back is now towards thee

Chap. XXIV.] The Art of Divine Meditation. 6?
many times through thy sins ; and therefore thou hardly discernest
him. Otherwhile, and often, thy back is turned unto him through
negligence, that when thou mightest obscurely see him thou dost
not ; now thou shalt see him, and thine eyes, thus fixed, shall not
be removed. Yet neither could this glory make us happy, if, being
thus absolute, it were not perpetual. To be happy is not so sweet
a state, as it is miserable to have been happy. Lest aught there
fore should be wanting, behold, this felicity knoweth no end,
feareth no intermission, and is as eternal for the continuance as
he that had no beginning. 0 blessedness truly infinite! our
earthly joys do scarce ever begin, but when they begin, their end
bordereth upon their beginning. One hour seeth us ofttimes joy
ful and miserable ; here alone is nothing but eternity. If then
the divine prophet thought here one day in God's earthly house
better than a thousand otherwhere, what shall I compare to thou
sands of millions of years in God's heavenly temple ? Yea, millions
of years are not so much as a minute to eternity, and that other
house not a cottage to this.
Chap. XXIV. — 7. Of that which is diverse from it, or
contrary to it.
Seventhly, our thoughts, leaving a while the consideration of
the thing as it is in itself, shall descend unto it as respectively with
others ; and therefore, first, shall meditate of that which is diverse
from it, or contrary unto it.
" What dost thou here then, O my soul ? what dost thou here
grovelling upon earth, where the best things are vanity, the rest no
better than vexation? Look round about thee, and see whether thine
eyes can meet with any thing but either sins or miseries. Those
few and short pleasures thou seest end ever sorrowfully, and in the
mean time are intermingled with many grievances. Here thou
hearest one cry out of a sick body, whereof there is no part which
affords not choice of diseases ; this man layeth his hand upon his
consuming lungs, and complaineth of short wind ; that other, upon
his rising spleen ; a third shaketh his painful head ; another roars
out for the torment of his reins or bladder; another, for the rack
ing of his gouty joints : one is distempered with a watery dropsy ;
another, with a windy colic ; a third, with a fiery ague; a fourth,
with an earthen melancholy: one grovels and foameth with the
falling sickness ; another lieth bedrid, half senseless, with a dead
p 2

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palsy : there are but few bodies that complain not of some disease ;
and, that thou mayest not look far, it is a wonder if thyself feel
not always one of these evils within thee. There thou hearest
another lament his loss ; either his estate is impaired by surety
ship, or stealth, or shipwreck, or oppression; or his child is
unruly, or miscarried ; or his wife dead or disloyal : another
tormented with passions : each one is some way miserable. But
that which is yet more irksome, thy one ear is beaten with
cursings and blasphemies ; thy other with scornful, or wanton,
or murdering speeches ; thine eyes see nothing but pride, filthi
ness, profaneness, blood, excess, and whatsoever else might vex
a righteous soul; and, if all the world besides were innocent,
thou findest enough within thyself to make thyself weary, and
thy life loathsome. Thou needest not fetch cause of complaint
from others : thy corruptions yield thee too much at home ; ever
sinning, ever presuming : sinning, even when thou hast repented,
yea, even while thou repentest, sinning. Go to now, my soul,
and solace thyself here below ; and suffer thyself besotted with
these goodly contentments, worthy of no better, while thou fixest
thyself on these. See if thou canst find any of these above ; and,
if thou canst meet with any distemper, any loss, any sin, any
complaint, from thyself or any other above, despise thine heaven
as much as now thou lovest the earth. Or, if all this cannot
enough commend unto thee the state of heavenly glory, cast
down thine eyes yet lower, into that deep and bottomless pit, full
of horror, full of torment : where there is nothing but flames, and
tears, and shrieks, and gnashing of teeth ; nothing but fiends
and tortures : where there is palpable darkness, and yet perpetual
fire ; where the damned are ever boiling, never consumed ; ever
dying, never dead ; ever complaining, never pitied : where the
glutton, that once would not give a crust of bread, now begs for
one drop of water ; and yet, alas ! if whole rivers of water should
fall into his mouth, how should they quench those rivers of brim
stone that feed this flame ! where there is no intermission of com
plaints ; no breathing from pain ; and, after millions of years, no
possibility of comfort. And if the rod wherewith thou chastisest
thy children, O Lord, even in this life, be so smart and galling,
that they have been brought down to the brim of despair, and
in the bitterness of their soul have entreated death to release
them; what shall I think of their plagues, in whose righteous

Chap. XXV.] The Art of Divine Meditation. 69
confusion thou insultest e, and sayest, Aha, I will avenge me of
mine enemies ? Even that thou shalt not be thus miserable, O my
soul, is some kind of happiness ; but that thou shalt be as happy
as the reprobate are miserable, how worthy is it of more estima
tion than thyself is capable of!"
Chap. XXV. — 8. Of comparisons and similitudes, whereby it
may be most fitly set forth.
After this opposition, the mind shall make comparison of the
matter meditated with what may nearest resemble it, and shall
illustrate it with fittest similitudes, which give no small light to
the understanding, nor less force to the affection.
" Wonder then, 0 my soul, as much as thou canst, at this
glory ; and in comparison thereof contemn this earth, which
now thou treadest upon; whose joys, if they were perfect, are
but short; and if they were long, are imperfect. One day,
when thou art above, looking down from the height of thy glory,
and seeing the sons of men creeping like so many ants on this
molehill of earth, thou shalt think, ' Alas, how basely I once lived !
was yonder silly dungeon the place I so loved, and was so loath
to leave?' Think so now beforehand; and, since of heaven thou
canst not, yet account of the earth as it is worthy : how heartless
and irksome are ye, 0 ye best earthly pleasures, if ye be matched
with the least of those above ! How vile are you, 0 ye sumptuous
buildings of kings, even if all the entrails of the earth had agreed
to enrich you, in comparison of this frame not made with hands !
It is not so high above the earth, in distance of place, as in worth
and majesty. We may see the face of heaven from the heart of
the earth ; but from the nearest part of the earth, who can see
the least glory of heaven ? The three disciples on mount Tabor
saw but a glimpse of this glory shining upon the face of their
Saviour; and yet, being ravished with the sight, cried out,
Master, it is good being here ; and, thinking of building of three
tabernacles, (for Christ, Moses, Elias,) could have been content
themselves to have lien without shelter, so they might always
have enjoyed that sight. Alas ! how could earthly tabernacles
have fitted those heavenly bodies ? They knew what they saw :
e [The word here replaced from the lent is not to be found in " consultest,"
editions of 1614 and 1628 is so offensive which is the reading of later editions.
to our ears, from the idea which its The word is clearly intended to repre-
present use associates with it, that one sent the righteous vengeance of the
would gladly substitute for it a less ob- Almighty triumphing over his enemies.]
jectionable equivalent, but that equiva-

70 Practical Works.
what they said, they knew not. Lo, these three disciples were
not transfigured; yet how deeply they were affected even with
the glory of others ! How happy shall we be, when ourselves
shall be changed into glorious; and shall have tabernacles, not
of our own making, but prepared for us by God ! And yet not
tabernacles, but eternal mansions : Moses saw God but a while,
and shined : how shall we shine, that shall behold his face for
ever ? What greater honour is there than in sovereignty ? what
greater pleasure than in feasting ? This life is both a kingdom
and a feast ! A kingdom : He that overcomes shall rule the na
tions ; and shall sit with me in my throne : 0 blessed promo
tion ! 0 large dominion and royal seat ! to which Solomon's
throne of ivory was not worthy to become a footstool. A feast :
Blessed are they that are called to the marriage-supper ofthe
Lamb: feasts have more than necessity of provision, more than
ordinary diet ; but marriage-feasts yet more than common abun
dance ; but the marriage-feast of the Son of God to his blessed
spouse, the Church, must so far exceed in all heavenly munifi
cence and variety, as the persons are of the greater state and
majesty : there is new wine, pure manna, and all manner of
spiritual dainties ; and, with the continual cheer, a sweet and
answerable welcome ; while the Bridegroom lovingly cheereth us
up, Eat, 0 friends; drink, and make you merry, 0 well be
loved : yea, there shalt thou be, my soul, not a guest, but, how
unworthy soever, the bride herself, whom he hath everlastingly
espoused to himself in truth and righteousness. The contract
is passed here below; the marriage is consummate above, and
solemnized with a perpetual feast: so that now thou mayest
safely say, My well-beloved is mine, and I am his : ivherefore
hearken, 0 my soul, and consider, and incline thine ear; forget
also thine own people, and thy father's house, thy supposed
home of this world : so shall the King have pleasure in thy
beauty; for he is the Lord, and ivorship thou him."
Chap. XXVI. — 9. The titles and names ofthe thing considered.
The very names and titles of the matter considered yield no
small store to our meditation : which being commonly so imposed,
that they secretly comprehend the nature of the thing which
they represent, are not unworthy of our discourse.
" What need I seek those resemblances, when the very name
of life implieth sweetness to men on earth, even to them which
confess to live with some discontentment? Surely the lir/ht is a

Chap. XXVII.] The Art of Divine Meditation. 71
pleasant thing ; and it is good to the eyes to see the sun: yet
when temporal is added to life, I know not how, this addition
detracteth something, and doth greatly abate the 'pleasure of
life ; for those which joy to think of life, grieve to think it but
temporal : so vexing is the end of that whose continuance was
delightful. But now, when there is an addition, above time, of
eternity, it maketh life so much more sweet as it is more lasting :
and, lasting infinitely, what can it give less than an infinite con
tentment? 0 dying and false life which we enjoy here, and
scarce a shadow and counterfeit of that other ! What is more
esteemed than glory ? which is so precious to men of spirit, that
it makes them prodigal of their blood, proud of their wounds,
careless of themselves : and yet, alas ! how pent and how fading
is this glory, effected with such dangers and death ; hardly, after
all trophies and monuments, either known to the next sea, or
surviving him that dieth for it ! It is true glory to triumph in
heaven, where is neither envy nor forgetfulness. What is more
dear to us than our country? which the worthy and faithful
patriots of all times have respected above their parents, their
children, their lives ; counting it only happy to live in it, and to
die for it : the banished man pines for the want of it : the tra
veller digesteth all the tediousness of his way, all the sorrows of
an ill journey, in the only hope of home, forgetting all his foreign
miseries when he feeleth his own smoke. Where is our country,
but above? Thence thou earnest, 0 my soul; thither thou art
going, in a short but weary pilgrimage. 0 miserable men, if we
account ourselves at home in our pilgrimage, if in our journey we
long not for home! Dost thou see men so in love with their
native soil, that, even when it is all deformed with the desola
tions of war and turned into rude heaps, or while it is even now
flaming with the fire of civil broils, they covet yet still to live in
it, preferring it to all other places of more peace and pleasure ?
and shalt thou, seeing nothing but peace and blessedness at
home, nothing but trouble abroad, content thyself with a faint
wish of thy dissolution ? If heaven were thy gaol, thou couldest
but think of it uncomfortably. 0 what affection can be worthy
of such an home!"
Chap. XXVII.— io. Consideration of fit testimonies of Scrip
ture concerning our theme.
Lastly, if we can recall any pregnant testimonies of Scripture
concerning our theme, those shall fitly. conclude this part of our

72 Practical Works.
meditation: of Scripture; for that in these matters of God none
but divine authority can command assent, and settle the con
science. Witnesses of holy men may serve for colours, but the
ground must be only from God.
" There it is, saith the Spirit of God which cannot deceive thee,
that all tears shall be wiped from our eyes; there shall be no
more death, nor sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any
more pain ; yea, there shall not only be an end of sorrows, but
an abundant recompense for the sorrows of our life ; as he that
was rapt up into the third heaven, and there saw what cannot be
spoken, speaketh yet thus of what he saw: I count, that the
afflictions of this present time are not worthy ofthe glory which
shall be showed to us. It was showed unto him what should
hereafter be showed unto us ; and he saw that, if all the world
full of miseries were laid in one balance, and the least glory of
heaven in another, those would be incomparably light ; yea, as
that divine father, that one day's felicity above were worth a
thousand years' torment below. What then can be matched with
the eternity of such joys? 0 how great, therefore, is this
thy goodness, 0 Lord, which thou hast laid up for them that
fear thee ; and done to them that trust in thee, before the sons
of men!"
Chap. XXVIII. — Of our second part of meditation ; which is
in the affections : — wherein is required a taste and relish of
what we have thought upon.
The most difficult and knotty part of meditation thus finished,
there remaineth that, which is both more lively and more easy
unto a good heart, to be wrought altogether by the affections ;
which if our discourses reach not unto, they prove vain and to no
purpose. That which followeth therefore is the very soul of
meditation, whereto all that is past serveth but as an instrument.
A man is a man by his understanding part, but he is a Christian
by his will and affections.
Seeing therefore that all our former labour of the brain is
only to affect the heart, after that the mind hath thus traversed
the point proposed through all the heads of reason, it shall en
deavour to find, in the first place, some feeling touch and sweet
relish in that which it hath thus chewed ; wliich fruit, through
the blessing of God, will voluntarily follow upon a serious medi
tation. David saith, 0 taste, and see how sweet the Lord is.
In meditation we do both see and taste ; but we see before we

Chap. XXIX.] The Art of Divine Meditation. 73
taste : sight is of the understanding ; taste, of the affection :
neither can we see, but we must taste ; we cannot know aright, but
we must needs be affected. Let the heart, therefore, first conceive
and feel in itself the sweetness or bitterness of the matter medi
tated ; which is never done without some passion, nor expressed
without some hearty exclamation.
" 0 blessed estate of the saints ! 0 glory not to be expressed,
even by those which are glorified ! 0 incomprehensible salvation !
What savour hath this earth to thee ? Who can regard the world
that believeth thee ? Who can think of thee, and not be ravished
with wonder and desire? Who can hope for thee, and not rejoice?
Who can know thee, and not be swallowed up with admiration at
the mercy of him that bestoweth thee ? 0 blessedness, worthy of
Christ's blood to purchase thee ! worthy of the continual songs
of saints and angels to celebrate thee ! How should I magnify
thee ! how should I long for thee ! how should I hate all this
world for thee !
Chap. XXIX. — Secondly, a complaint, bewailing our wants and
untowarduess.
After this taste shall follow a complaint, wherein the heart
bewaileth to itself his own poverty, dulness, and imperfection ;
chiding and abasing itself in respect of his wants and indisposi
tion : wherein humiliation truly goeth before glory ; for the more
we are cast down in our conceit, the higher shall God lift us up
at the end of this exercise in spiritual rejoicing.
" But alas ! where is my love ? where is my longing ? where
art thou, 0 my soul ? what heaviness hath overtaken thee ? how
hath the world bewitched and possessed thee, that thou art be
come so careless of thy home, so senseless of spiritual delights,
so fond upon these vanities ? Dost thou doubt whether there be
an heaven ? or whether thou have a God and a Saviour there ?
0 far be from thee this atheism : far be from thee the least
thought of this desperate impiety. Woe were thee, if thou be-
lievedst not ! But, 0 thou of little faith, dost thou believe there
is happiness, and happiness for thee; and desirest it not, and
delightest not in it? Alas! how weak and unbelieving is thy
belief ! how cold and faint are thy desires ! Tell me, what such
goodly entertainment hast thou met withal here on earth that
was worthy to withdraw thee from these heavenly joys? what
pleasure in it ever gave thee contentment? or what cause of
dislike findest thou above? 0 no, my soul, it is only thy miserable

74 Practical Works.
drowsiness, only thy security ; the world, the world hath besotted
thee, hath undone thee with carelessness. Alas ! if thy delight be
so cold, what difference is there in thee from an ignorant heathen,
that doubts of another life ? yea, from an epicure, that denies it ?
Art thou a Christian, or art thou none I If thou be what thou
professest, away with this dull and senseless worldliness; away
with this earthly uncheerfulness ; shake off at last this profane
and godless security, that hath thus long weighed thee down from
mounting up to thy joys. Look up to thy God and to thy
crown, and say with confidence, 0 Lord, I have waited for thy
salvation."Chap. XXX. — An hearty wish of the soul for what it com-
plaineth to ivant.
After this complaint must succeed an hearty and passionate
wish of the soul, which ariseth clearly from the two former de
grees ; for that which a man hath found sweet and comfortable,
and complains that he still wanteth, he cannot but wish to enjoy.
" 0 Lord, that I could wait and long for thy salvation ! 0 that
I could mind the things above ! that, as I am a stranger indeed,
so I could be also in affection ! 0 that mine eyes, like the eyes
of the first martyr, could, by the light of faith, see but a glimpse
of heaven ! 0 that my heart could be rapt up thither in desire !
How should I trample upon these poor vanities of the earth !
how willingly should I endure all sorrows, all torments ! how
scornfully should I pass by all pleasures ! how should I be in
travail of my dissolution ! 0 when shall that blessed day come,
when, all this wretched worldliness removed, I shall solace myself
in my God? Behold, as the hart brayeth for the rivers qf
waters, so panteth my soul after thee, 0 God : my soul thirsteth
for God, even for the living God : 0, when shall I come and
appear before the presence of God ? "
Chap. XXXI. — 4. An humble confession of our disability to effect
what ive wish.
After this wishing shall follow humble confession, by just
order of nature; for having bemoaned our want, and wished
supply, not finding this hope in ourselves, we must needs acknow
ledge it to him, of whom only we may both seek and find ; where
it is to be duly observed, how the mind is by turns depressed and
lifted up ; being lifted up with our taste of joy, it is cast down with
complaint ; lift up with wishes, it is cast down with confession :

Chap. XXXIII.] The Art of Divine Meditation. 75
which order doth best hold it in ure and just temper, and maketh
it more feeling of the comfort which followeth in the conclusion.
This confession must derogate all from ourselves, and ascribe all
to God.
'• Thus I desire, 0 Lord, to be aright affected towards thee
and thy glory. I desire to come to thee ; but, alas ! how weakly,
how heartlessly ! Thou knowest that I can neither come to thee,
nor desire to come, but from thee. It is nature that holds me
from thee: this treacherous nature favours itself; loveth the
world ; hateth to think of a dissolution ; and chooseth rather to
dwell in this dungeon with continual sorrow and complaint, than
to endure a parting, although to liberty and joy. Alas, Lord, it
is my misery that I love my pain ! How long shall these vanities
thus besot me ? It is thou only that canst turn away mine eyes
from regarding these follies, and my heart from affecting them :
thou only, who, as thou shalt one day receive my soul into heaven,
so now beforehand canst fix my soul upon heaven and thee."
Chap. XXXII. 5. — An earnest petition for that which ive confess
to want.
After confession, naturally follows petition ; earnestly request
ing that at his hands, which we acknowledge ourselves unable,
and none but God able to perform.
" 0 carry it up, therefore, thou that hast created and re
deemed it, carry it up to thy glory. 0 let me not always be
thus dull and brutish : let not these scales of earthly affection
always dim and blind mine eyes. 0 thou that layedst clay upon
the blind man's eyes, take away this clay from mine eyes;
wherewith, alas ! they are so daubed up, that they cannot see
heaven. Illuminate them from above, and in thy light let me
see light. 0 thou that hast prepared a place for my soul, pre
pare my soul for that place ; prepare it with holiness ; prepare it
with desire; and even while it sojourneth on earth let it dwell
in heaven with thee, beholding ever the beauty of thy face, the
glory of thy saints, and of itself."
Chap. XXXIII.— 6. A vehement enforcement qf our petition.
After petition, shall follow the enforcement of our request,
from argument and importunate obsecration: wherein we must
take heed of complimenting in terms with God; as knowing
that he will not be mocked by any fashionable form of suit, but
requireth holy and feeling entreaty.
"How graciously hast thou proclaimed to the world, that

76 Practical Works.
whoever wants wisdom shall ask it of thee, which neither deniest
nor upbraidest ! 0 Lord, I want heavenly wisdom, to conceive
aright of heaven : I want it, and ask it of thee : give me to ask
it instantly ; and give me, according to thy promise, abundantly.
Thou seest it is no strange favour that I beg of thee : no other
than that which thou hast richly bestowed upon all thy valiant
martyrs, confessors, servants, from the beginning; who never
could have so cheerfully embraced death and torment, if, through
the midst of their flames and pain, they had not seen their crown
of glory. The poor thief on the cross had no sooner craved thy
remembrance when thou earnest to thy kingdom, than thou pro-
misedst to take him with thee into heaven. Presence was better
to him than remembrance. Behold, now thou art in thy king
dom ; I am on earth : remember thine unworthy servant ; and
let my soul, in conceit, in affection, in conversation, be this day
and for ever with thee in paradise. I see, man walketh in a
vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain : they are pitiful
pleasures he enjoyeth, while he forgetteth thee: I am as vain;
make me more wise : 0 let me see heaven ; and I know I shall
never envy nor follow them. My times are in thy hand : I am
no better than my fathers ; a stranger on earth. As I speak of
them, so the next, yea this generation shall speak of me, as one
that was. My life is a bubble, a smoke, a shadow, a thought :
I know it is no abiding in this thoroughfare : 0 suffer me not so
mad, as,, while I pass on the way, I should forget the end. It is
that other life that I must trust to : with thee it is that I shall
continue : O let me not be so foolish as to settle myself on what I
must leave, and to neglect eternity. I have seen enough of this
earth ; and yet I love it too much : 0 let me see heaven another
while ; and love it so much more than the earth, by how much
the things there are more worthy to be loved. 0 God, look
down on thy wretched pilgrim, and teach me to look up to thee,
and to see thy goodness in the land of the living. Thou, that
boughtest heaven for me, guide me thither ; and, for the price
that it cost thee, for thy mercies' sake, in spite of all temptations,
enlighten thou my soul, direct it, crown it."
Chap. XXXIV. — 7- A cheerful confidence qf obtaining what we
have requested and enforced.
After this enforcement doth follow confidence; wherein the
soul, after many doubtful and unquiet bickerings, gathereth up
her forces, and cheerfully rouseth up itself; and, like one of

Chap. XXXV.] The Art of Divine Meditation. 77
David's worthies, breaketh through a whole army of doubts,
and fetcheth comfort from the well of life ; which, though in
some later, yet in all, is a sure reward from God of sincere medi
tation. " Yea, be thou bold, 0 my soul ; and do not merely crave, but
challenge this favour of God, as that which he oweth thee ; he
oweth it thee, because he hath promised it ; and by his mercy
hath made his gift his debt : Faithful is he that hath promised,
ivhich will also do it. Hath he not given thee not only his
hand in the sweet hopes of the gospel, but his seal also in the
sacraments ? Yea, besides promise, hand, seal, hath he not given
thee a sure earnest of thy salvation in some weak but true graces ?
Yet more, hath he not given thee, besides earnest, possession;
while he, that is the truth and life, saith, He that believeth hath
everlasting life, and hath passed from death to life ? Canst thou
not then be content to cast thyself upon this blessed issue ; if God
be merciful, I am glorious : I have thee already, 0 my life ? God
is faithful, and I do believe : who shall separate me from the love
of Christ ? from my glory with Christ ? who shall pull me out of
my heaven ? Go to then, and return to thy rest, 0 my soul : make
use of that heaven wherein thou art, and be happy."
Thus we have found that our meditation, like the wind, gathereth
strength in proceeding ; and as natural bodies the nearer they
come to their places move with more celerity, so doth the soul in
this course of meditation, to the unspeakable benefit of itself.
Chap. XXXV. — The conclusion of our meditation, in what order
it must be. — First, with thanksgiving.
The conclusion remaineth: wherein we must advise, like as
physicians do in their sweats and exercise, that we cease not
over-suddenly, but leave off by little and little. The mind may
not be suffered to fall headlong from this height, but must also
descend by degrees.
The first whereof, after our confidence, shall be an hearty
gratulation and thanksgiving; for as man naturally cannot be
miserable, but he must complain and crave remedy ; so the good
heart cannot find itself happy and not be thankful; and this
thankfulness, which it feeleth and expresseth, maketh it yet more
good, and affecteth it more.
" What shall I then do to thee for this mercy, 0 thou Saviour
of men? what should I render to my Lord for all his benefits?
Alas! what can I give thee which is not thine own before? 0

78 Practical Works.
that I could give thee but all thine ! Thou givest me to drink of
this cup of salvation; I will, therefore, take the cup of salvation,
and call upon the name of the Lord : praise thou the Lord, 0
my soul; and all that is ivithin me praise his holy name. And
since here thou beginnest thy heaven, begin here also that joyful
song of thanksgiving which there thou shalt sing more sweetly,
and never end.
Chap. XXXVI. — Secondly, with recommendation of our souls
and ways to God.
After this thanksgiving shall follow a faithful recommendation
of ourselves to God; wherein the soul doth cheerfully give up
itself, and repose itself wholly upon her Maker and Redeemer ;
committing herself to him in all her ways ; submitting herself to
him in all his ways ; desiring in all things to glorify him, and to
walk worthy of her high and glorious calling.
Both which latter shall be done, as 1 have ever found, with
much life and comfort, if, for the full conclusion we shall lift up
our heart and voice to God, in singing some versicle of David's
divine Psalms, answerable to our disposition and matter ; whereby
the heart closes up itself with much sweetness and contentment.
This course of meditation thus heartily observed, let him that
practiseth it tell me whether he find not that his soul, which, at
the beginning of this exercise did but creep and grovel upon
earth, do not now, in the conclusion, soar aloft in heaven, and,
being before aloof off, do not now find itself near to God, yea with
him and in him.
Chap. XXXVII. — An epilogue: reproving the neglect; exhorting
to the use qf meditation.
Thus have I endeavoured, right worshipful sir, according to
my slender faculty, to prescribe a method of meditation : not
upon so strict terms of necessity, that whosoever goeth not my
way erreth. Divers paths lead ofttimes to the same end, and
every man aboundeth in his own sense. If experience and cus
tom hath made another form familiar to any man, 1 forbid it not ;
as that learned father said of his translation, " Let him use his
own, not contemn mine." If any man be to choose and begin, let
him practise mine till he meet with a better master. If another
course may be better, I am sure this is good. Neither is it to
be suffered, that, like as fantastical men, while they doubt what
fashioned suit they should wear, put on nothing; so that we

Chap. XXX VII.] The Art qf Divine Meditation. 79
Christians should neglect the matter of this worthy business,
while we nicely stand upon the form thereof. Wherein give me
leave to complain, with just sorrow and shame, that if there be
any Christian duty whose omission is notoriously shameful and
prejudicial to the souls of professors, it is this of meditation.
This is the very end God hath given us our souls for : we mis
spend them if we use them not thus. How lamentable is it, that
we so employ them, as if our faculty of discourse served for nothing
but our earthly provision ! as if our reasonable and Christian
minds were appointed for the slaves and drudges of this body,
only to be the caters and cooks of our appetite !
The world filleth us, yea cloy eth us : we find ourselves work
enough to think ? " What have I yet ? How may I get more ?
What must I lay out ? What shall I leave for posterity ? How
may I prevent the wrong of mine adversary ? How may I return
it ? What answer shall I make to such allegations ? What enter
tainment shall I give to such friends ? What courses shall I take
in such suits ? In what pastime shall I spend this day ? In what
the next ? What advantage shall I reap by this practice, what
loss? What was said, answered, replied, done, followed?"
Goodly thoughts, and fit for spiritual minds ! Say there were
no other world ; how could we spend our cares otherwise ?
Unto this only neglect let me ascribe the commonness of that
Laodicean temper of men ; or, if that be worse, of the dead cold
ness which hath stricken the hearts of many, having left them
nothing but the bodies of men, and vizors of Christians ; to this
only— they have not meditated. It is not more impossible to live
without an heart, than to be devout without meditation. Would
God, therefore, my words could be in this, as the Wise Man
saith the words of the wise are, like unto goads in the sides
of every reader, to quicken him up, out of this dull and lazy
security, to a cheerful practice of this divine meditation. Let
him curse me upon his deathbed, if, looking back from thence to
the bestowing of his former times, he acknowledge not these
hours placed the most happily in his whole life ; if he then wish
not he had worn out more days in so profitable and heavenly a
work ! DEO SOLI GLORIA.

A MEDITATION OF DEATH,
ACCORDING TO THE FORMER RULES.

The entrance.
And now, my soul, that thou hast thought of the end, what
can fit thee better than to think of the way ? And though the
forepart of the way to heaven be a good life, the latter and
more immediate is death. Shall I call it the way, or the gate of
life? Sure I am, that by it only we pass into that blessedness;
whereof we have so thought, that we have found it cannot be
thought of enough. The description.
What then is this death but the taking down of these sticks,
whereof this earthly tent is composed? the separation of two
great and old friends, till they meet again ? the gaol-delivery of
a long prisoner ? our journey into that other world, for which we
and this thoroughfare were made ? our payment of our first debt
to nature ; the sleep of the body and the awaking of the soul ?
The division.
But, lest thou shouldest seem to flatter him whose name and
face hath ever seemed terrible to others, remember that there
are more deaths than one : if the first death be not so fearful as
he is made, his horror lying more in the conceit of the beholder
than in his own aspect, surely the second is not made so fearful
as he is. No living eye can behold the terrors thereof; it is as
impossible to see them, as to feel them and live. Nothing but a
name is common to both. The first hath men, casualties, diseases,
for his executioners ; the second, devils : the power of the first is
in the grave ; the second, in hell : the worst of the first is sense
lessness ; the easiest of the second is a perpetual sense of all the
pain that can make a man exquisitely miserable.
The causes.
Thou shalt have no business, 0 my soul, with the second
death : thy first resurrection hath secured thee. Thank him
that hath redeemed thee for thy safety. And how can I thank
thee enough, 0 my Saviour, which hast so mercifully bought off

A Meditation of Death. 81
my torment with thy own ; and hast drunk off that bitter potion
of thy Father's wrath, whereof the very taste had been our
death ? Yea, such is thy mercy, 0 thou Redeemer of men, that
thou hast not only subdued the second death, but reconciled the
first : so as thy children taste not at all of the second ; and find
the first so sweetened to them by thee, that they complain not of
bitterness. It was not thou, 0 God, that madest death: our
hands are they that were guilty of this evil. Thou sawest all thy
work that it was good : we brought forth sin, and sin brought
forth death. To the discharge of thy justice and mercy we
acknowledge this miserable conception: and needs must that
child be ugly that hath such parents. Certainly, if being and
good be, as they are, of an equal extent, then the dissolution of
our being must needs in itself be evil. How full of darkness and
horror then is the privation of this vital light, especially since thy
wisdom intended it to the revenge of sin, which is no less than
the violation of an infinite justice ! It was thy just pleasure to
plague us with this brood of our own begetting. Behold, that
death, which was not till then in the world, is now in every thing :
one great conqueror finds it in a slate ; another finds it in a fly :
one finds it in the kernel of a grape ; another in the prick of a
thorn : one, in the taste of an herb ; another, in the smell of a
flower : one, in a bit of meat ; another, in a mouthful of air :
one, in the very sight of a danger ; another, in the conceit of
what might have been. Nothing in all our life is too little to
hide death under it. There need no cords, nor knives, nor
swords, nor pieces : we have made ourselves as many ways to
death as there are helps of living. But if we were the authors
of our death, it was thou that didst alter it : our disobedience
made it; and thy mercy made it not to be evil. It had been all
one to thee to have taken away the very being of death from
thine own ; but thou thoughtest it best to take away the sting of
it only : as good physicians, when they would apply their leeches,
scour them with salt and nettles ; and when their corrupt blood is
voided, employ them to the health of the patient. It is more
glory to thee that thou hast removed enmity from this Esau ;
that now he meets us with kisses instead of frowns : and if we re
ceive a blow from this rough hand, yet that very stripe is healing.
0 how much more powerful is thy death than our sin ! 0 my Sa
viour, how hast thou perfumed and softened this bed of my grave
by dying ! How can it grieve me to tread in thy steps to glory ?
bp. hall, vol. vi. et

82 Practical Works.
The effects.
Our sin made death our last enemy : thy goodness hath made
it the first friend that we meet with in our passage to another
world : for, as she that receives us from the knees of our mother
in our first entrance to the light, washeth, cleanseth, dresseth us,
and presents us to the breast of our nurse or the arms of our
mother, challenges some interest in us when we come to our
growth ; so death, which, in our passage to that other life is the
first that receives and presents our naked souls to the hands of
those angels which carry it up to her glory, cannot but think
this office friendly and meritorious. What, if this guide lead my
carcass through corruption and rottenness, when my soul, in the
very instant of her separation knows itself happy ? What if my
friends mourn about my bed and coffin, when my soul sees the
smiling face and loving embracements of him that was dead
and is alive ? What care I who shuts these earthen eyes when
death opens the eye of my soul to see as I am seen ? What if
my name be forgotten of men, when I live above with the God of
spirits ? The subject.
If death would be still an enemy, it is the worst part of me
that he hath any thing to do withal ; the best is above his reach ;
and gains more than the other can lose. The worst piece of the
horror of death is the grave : and, set aside infidelity, what so
great misery is this ? That part which is corrupted feels it not :
that wliich is free from corruption feels an abundant recompense,
and foresees a joyful reparation. What is here, but a just resti
tution ? We carry heaven and earth wrapt up in our bosoms ;
each part returns homeward ; and if the exceeding glory of
heaven cannot countervail the dolesomeness of the grave, what
do I believing i but, if the beauty of that celestial sanctuary do
more than equalize the horror of the bottomless pit, how can I
shrink at earth like myself, when I know my glory ? And if
examples can move thee any whit, look behind thee, 0 my soul,
and see which of the worthies of that ancient latter world, which
of the patriarchs, kings, prophets, apostles, have not trod in these
red steps. Where are those millions of generations wliich have
hitherto peopled the earth ? How many passing-bells hast thou
heard for thy known friends! how many sick beds hast thou
visited ! how many eyes hast thou seen closed ! how many vain
men hast thou seen that have gone into the field to seek death.

A Meditation of Death. 83
in hope to find an honour as foolish as themselves ! how many
poor creatures hast thou mulcted with death for thine own plea
sure ! And canst thou hope that God will make a by-way and a
postern for thee alone, that thou mayest pass to the next world,
not by the gates of death, not by the bottom of the grave ?
The adjunct.
What then dost thou fear, 0 my soul? There are but two
stages of death, the bed and the grave ; this latter, if it have
senselessness, yet it hath rest ; the former, if it have pain, yet it
hath speediness ; and when it lights upon a faithful heart meets
with many and strong antidotes of comfort. The evil that is
ever in motion, is not fearful : that which both time and eternity
finds standing where it was is worthy of terror. Well may those
tremble at death wliich find more distress within than without ;
whose consciences are more sick and nearer to death than their
bodies. It was thy Father's wrath that did so terrify thy soul,
0 my Saviour, that it put thy body into a bloody sweat. The
mention and thought of thy death ended in a psalm ; but this
began in an agony. Then didst thou sweat out my fears. The
power of that agony doth more comfort all thine, than the
angels could comfort thee. That very voice deserved an eternal
separation of horror from death, where thou saidst, My God, my
God, why hast thou forsaken me ? Thou hadst not complained
of being left, if thou wouldest have any of thine left destitute of
comfort in their parting. I know not whom I can fear while I
know whom I have beheved : how can I be discouraged with the
sight of my loss, when I see so clear an advantage ?
The contrary.
What discomfort is this, to leave a frail body to be joined unto
a glorious head ? to forsake vain pleasures, false honours, boot
less hopes, unsatisfying wealth, stormy contentments, sinful men,
perilous temptations, a sea of troubles, a galley of servitude, an
evil world and a consuming life, for freedom, rest, happiness,
eternity ? And if thou wert sentenced, 0 my soul, to live a thou
sand years in this body with these infirmities, how wouldst thou
be weary ; not of being only, but of complaining : where, ere the
first hundred, I should be a child ; ere the second, a beast ; a
stone, ere the third ; and therefore should be so far from finding-
pleasure in my continuance, that I should not have sense enough
left to feel myself miserable ! And when I am once gone, what
difference is there betwixt the agedest of the first patriarchs and

84 Practical Works.
me, and the child that did but live to be born, save only in what
was? and that which was is not. And if this body had no weak
ness to make my life tedious, yet, what a torment is it, that while
I live I must sin ! Alas, my soul, every one of thy known sins is
not a disease, but a death ! What an enemy art thou to thyself,
if thou canst not be content, that one bodily death should excuse
thee from many spiritual ; to cast off thy body that thou mayest
be stripped of the rags, yea, the fetters of thy sin, and clothed
with the robes of glory? Yet these terms are too hard: thou
shalt not be cast off, 0 my body : rather thou shalt be put to
making. This change is no less happy for thee than for thy
partner. This very skin of thine, which is now tawny and
wrinkled, shall once shine : this earth shall be heaven : this dust
shall be glorious : these eyes, that are now weary of being wit
nesses of thy sins and miseries, shall then never be weary of
seeing the beauty of thy Saviour, and thine own in his : these
ears, that have been now tormented with the impious tongues of
men, shall first hear the voice of the Son of God ; and then the
voices of saints and angels in their songs of hallelujah : and this
tongue, that now complains of miseries and fears, shall then bear
a part in that divine harmony. The comparisons.
In the mean time thou shalt but sleep in this bed of earth.
He that hath tried the worst of death hath called it no worse.
Very heathens have termed them cousins ; and it is no unusual
thing for cousins of blood to carry both the same names and fea
tures. Hast thou wont, 0 my body, when the day hath wearied
thee, to lie down not unwillingly to thy rest ? behold, in this
sleep there is more quietness, more pleasure of visions, more cer
tainty of waking, more cheerfulness in rising ; why then art thou
loath to think of laying off thy rags and reposing thyself? why
art thou hke a child unwilling to go to bed ? Hast thou ever seen
any bird, which, when the cage hath been opened, would rather
sit still and sing within her grates, than fly forth unto her freedom
in the woods ? Hast thou ever seen any prisoner in love with his
bolts and fetters ? Did the chief of the apostles, when the angel
of God shined in his gaol, and struck him on the side, and loosed
his two chains, and bade him arise quickly, and opened both the
wooden and iron gate, say, "What ! so soon ? yet a little sleep 1"
What madness had it been, rather to slumber betwixt his two
keepers, than to follow the angel of God into liberty ? Hast thou

A Meditation qf Death. 85
ever seen any mariner that hath saluted the sea with songs and
the haven with tears ? What shall I say to this diffidence, 0 my
soul, that thou art unwilling to think of rest after thy toil ; of
freedom after thy durance ; of the haven after an unquiet and
tempestuous passage ? How many are there that seek death and
cannot find it ! merely out of the irksomeness of life. Hath it
found thee, and offered thee better conditions ; not of immunity
from evils, but of possession of more good than thou canst think ;
and wouldest thou now fly from happiness to be rid of it ?
The names.
What ! is it a name that troubles thee ? What if men
would call sleep death ; wouldest thou be afraid to close thine
eyes ? What hurt is it then, if he, that sent the first sleep upon
man whilst he made him an helper, send this last and soundest
sleep upon me while he prepares my soul for a glorious spouse
to himself ? It is but a parting which we call death ; as two
friends, when they have led each other on the way, shake hands
till they return from their journey. If either could miscarry,
there were cause of sorrow ; now they are more sure of a meet
ing than of a parture, what folly is it not to be content to redeem
the unspeakable gain of so dear a friend with a little intermission
of enjoying him ! He will return laden with the riches of heaven ;
and will fetch his old partner to the participation of this glorious
wealth. Go then, my soul, to this sure and gainful traffick ; and
leave my other half in an harbour as safe, though not so blessed ;
yet so shalt thou be separated, that my very dust shall be united
to thee still, and to my Saviour in thee.
The testimonies.
Wert thou unwilling, at the command of thy Creator, to join
thyself at the first with this body of mine ? why art thou then
loath to part with that which thou hast found, though entire,
yet troublesome ? Dost thou not hear Solomon say, The day of
death is better than tlie day of thy birth ? dost thou not believe
him ? or art thou in love with the worse and displeased with the
better ? If any man could have found a life worthy to be pre
ferred unto death, so great a king must needs have done it :
now in his very throne he commends his coffin. Yea, what wilt
thou say to those heathens, that mourned at the birth, and
feasted at the death of their children ? They knew the miseries
of living, as well as thou : the happiness of dying they could not

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know ; and if they rejoiced out of a conceit of ceasing to be
miserable, how shouldest thou cheer thyself in an expectation,
yea an assurance, of being happy ! He that is the Lord of life,
and tried what it was to die, hath proclaimed them blessed that
die in the Lord. Those are blessed, I know, that live in him ;
but they rest not from their labours : toil and sorrow is between
them and a perfect enjoying of that blessedness which they now
possess only in hope and inchoation : when death hath added
rest, their happiness is finished.
The taste of our meditation.
0 death, how sweet is that rest wherewith thou refreshest the
weary pilgrims of this vale of mortality ! how pleasant is thy
face to those eyes that have acquainted themselves with the sight
of it, which to strangers is grim and ghastly ! how worthy art
thou to be welcome unto those that know whence thou art, and
whither thou tendest ! Who that knows thee can fear thee ? who
that is not all nature would rather hide himself amongst the bag
gage of this vile life, than follow thee to a crown ? What indif
ferent judge, that should see life painted over with vain sem
blances of pleasures, attended with troops of sorrows on the one
side, and on the other with uncertainty of continuance and cer
tainty of dissolution ; and then should turn his eyes unto death,
and see her black, but comely, attended on the one hand with a
momentary pain, with eternity of glory on the other ; would not
say, out of choice, that which the prophet said out of passion, It
is better for me to die than to live ?
The complaint.
But, 0 my soul, what ails thee to be thus suddenly backward
and fearful ? No heart hath more freely discoursed of death in
speculation : no tongue hath more extolled it in absence. And
now, that it is come to thy bed's side, and hath drawn thy cur
tains, and takes thee by the hand, and offers thee service, thou
shrinkest inward, and, by the paleness of thy face and wildness
of thine eye, bewrayest an amazement at the presence of such a
guest. That face which was so familiar to thy thoughts is now
unwelcome to thine eyes. I am ashamed of this weak irresolu
tion. Whitherto have tended all thy serious meditations ? What
hath Christianity done to thee, if thy fears be still heathenish ?
Is this thine imitation of so many worthy saints of God, whom
thou hast seen entertain the violentest deaths with smiles and

A Meditation of Death. 87
songs? Is this the fruit of thy long and frequent instruction?
Didst thou think death would have been content with words?
didst thou hope it would suffice thee to talk, while all other
suffer ? Where is thy faith ? yea, where art thou thyself, 0 my
soul ? Is heaven worthy of no more thanks, no more joy ? Shall
heretics, shall pagans give death a better welcome than thou?
Hath thy Maker, thy Redeemer, sent for thee ; and art thou
loath to go? hath he sent for thee, to put thee in possession of
that glorious inheritance which thy wardship hath cheerfully
expected, and art thou loath to go ? Hath God, with this ser
geant of his, sent his angels to fetch thee, and art thou loath to
go ? Rouse up thyself for shame, 0 my soul ; and, if ever thou
hast truly believed, shake off this unchristian diffidence, and ad
dress thyself joyfully for thy glory.
The wish.
Yea, 0 my Lord, it is thou that must raise up this faint and
drooping heart of mine : thou only canst rid me of this weak and
cowardly distrust : thou, that sendest for my soul, canst prepare
it for thyself: thou only canst make thy messenger welcome to
me. 0, that I could but see thy face through death ! 0, that I
could see death, not as it was, but as thou hast made it ! 0, that
I could heartily pledge thee, my Saviour, in this cup ; that so I
might drink new wine with thee in thy Father's kingdom !
The confession.
But alas ! 0 my God, nature is strong and weak in me at
once ! I cannot wish to welcome death, as it is worthy : when I
look for most courage, I find strongest temptations : I see and
confess, that when I am myself, thou hast no such coward as I.
Let me alone, and I shall shame that name of thine which
I have professed : every secure worldling shall laugh at my fee
bleness. 0 God, were thy martyrs thus haled to their stakes ?
might they not have been loosed from their racks, and chose to
die in those torments ? Let it be no shame for thy servant to take
up that complaint which thou madest of thy better attendants,
The. spirit is willing, but the flesh is tueak.
The petition and enforcement.
0 thou God of spirits, that hast coupled these two together,
unite them in a desire of their dissolution ; weaken this flesh to
receive, and encourage this spirit either to desire or to contemn
death ; and now, as I grow nearer to my home, let me increase

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in the sense of my joys. I am thine; save me, 0 Lord. It was
thou that didst put such courage into thine ancient and late wit
nesses, that they either invited or challenged death ; and held
their persecutors their best friends, for letting them loose from
these gives of flesh. I know thine hand is not shortened ; neither
any of them hath received more proofs of thy former mercies.
0 let thy goodness enable me to reach them in the comfortable
steadiness of my passage. Do but draw this veil a little, that I
may see my glory, and I cannot but be inflamed with the desire
of it. It was not I-, that either made this body for the earth, or
this soul for my body, or this heaven for my soul, or this glory of
heaven, or this entrance into glory : all is thine own work. 0
perfect what thou hast begun, that thy praise and my happiness
may be consummate at once.
The assurance or confidence.
Yea, 0 my soul, what needest thou wish the God of mercies to
be tender of his own honour ? Art thou not a member of that
body whereof thy Saviour is the head ? Canst thou drown, when
thy Head is above ? Was it not for thee that he triumphed over
death ? Is there any fear in a foiled adversary ? 0 my Redeemer,
I have already overcome in thee : how can I miscarry in myself?
0 my soul, thou hast marched valiantly ! Behold, the damsels of
that heavenly Jerusalem come forth with timbrels and harps to
meet thee, and to applaud thy success : and now, there remains
nothing for thee but a crown of righteousness, which that
righteous Judge shall give thee at that day : 0 death, where is
thy sting ? 0 grave, ivhere is thy victory ?
i The thanksgiving.
Return now unto thy rest, 0 my soul; for the Lord hath been
beneficial unto thee. O Lord God, the strength qf my salvation,
thou hast covered my head in the day of battle : 0 my God and
King, I will extol thee, and will bless thy name for ever and
ever. I will bless thee daily, and praise thy name for ever and
ever. Great is the Lord, and most worthy to be praised, and
his greatness is incomprehensible : I will meditate ofthe beauty
of thy glorious majesty, and thy wonderful works: Hosanna,
thou that dwellest in the highest heavens. Amen.

CHARACTERS

VIRTUES AND VICES.

IN TWO BOOKS.

BY JOS. HALL.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE MY SINGULAR GOOD LORDS,
EDWAED LOED DENNY,
BARON OF WALTHAM,
AND
JAMES LOED HAY,
HIS RIGHT NOBLE AND WORTHY SON-IN-LAW :
J. H.
HUMBLY DEDICATES HIS LABOCB, DEVOTETH HIMSELF, WISHETH ALL HAPPINESS.

A PREMONITION OF THE TITLE AND USE OF CHARACTERS.

Reader, — The divines of the old heathens were their moral philosophers.
These received the acts of an inbred law in the Sinai of nature ; and delivered
them, with many expositions, to the multitude. These were the overseers of
manners, correctors of vices, directors of lives, doctors of virtue, which yet
taught their people the body of their natural divinity not after one manner :
while some spent themselves in deep discourses of human felicity, and the way
to it in common ; others thought best to apply the general precepts of good
ness or decency to particular conditions and persons : a third sort, in a mean
course betwixt the two other, and compounded of them both, bestowed their
time in drawing out the true lineaments of every virtue and vice, so lively,
that who saw the medals might know the face : which, art they significantly
termed charactery . Their papers were so many tables, their writings so many
speaking pictures, or living images ; whereby the ruder multitude might, even

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by their sense, learn to know virtue, and discern what to detest. I am de
ceived, if any course could be more likely to prevail : for herein the gross
conceit is led on with pleasure; and informed, while it feels nothing but
delight. And if pictures have been accounted the books of idiots, behold
here the benefit of an image without the offence. It is no shame for us to
learn wit of heathens ; neither is it material in whose school we take out a
good lesson : yea, it is more shame not to follow their good than not to lead
them better. As one therefore, that, in worthy examples, holds imitation
better than invention, I have trod in their paths, but with an higher and
wider step; and out of their tablets have drawn these larger portraitures
of both sorts. More might be said, I deny not, of every virtue, of every vice :
I desired not to say all, but enough. If thou do but read or like these, I
have spent good hours ill ; but, if thou shalt hence abjure those vices which
before thou thoughtest not ill-favoured, or fall in love with any of these
goodly faces of virtue ; or shalt hence find, where thou hast any little touch
of these evils, to clear thyself, or where any defect in these graces to supply it ;
neither of us shall need to repent of our labour.

BOOK I.

The Proem.
Virtue is not loved enough, because she is not seen ; and vice
loseth much detestation, because her ugliness is secret. Certainly,
my lords, there are so many beauties and so many graces in the
face of goodness, that no eye can possibly see it without affection,
without ravishment: and the visage of evil is so monstrous through
loathsome deformities, that if her lovers were not ignorant they
would be mad with disdain and astonishment. What need we
more than to discover these two to the world ? This work shall
save the labour of exhorting and dissuasion. I have here done
it as I could ; following that ancient master of morality a, who
thought this the fittest task for the ninety and ninth year of his
age, and the profitablest monument that he could leave for a fare
well to his Grecians. Lo here, then, virtue and vice stript naked
to the open view, and despoiled, one of her rags, the other of her
ornaments ; and nothing left them but bare presence to plead for
affection : see now whether shall find more suitors. And if still
the vain minds of lewd men shall dote upon their old mistress, it
will appear to be, not because she is not foul, but for that they
are blind and bewitched. And first, behold the goodly features
of wisdom, an amiable virtue, and worthy to lead this stage;
a [Theophrastus.]

Book I.] Characters of Virtues. 91
which, as she extends herself to all the following graces, so,
amongst the rest, is for her largeness most conspicuous.
The character ofthe wise man.
There is nothing that he desires not to know ; but most and
first, himself: and not so much his own strength as his weak
nesses. Neither is his knowledge reduced to discourse, but
practice. He is a skilful logician, not by nature so much as
use; his working mind doth nothing all his time but make
syllogisms and draw out conclusions; everything that he sees
and hears serves for one of the premises ; with these he cares,
first, to inform himself, then to direct others. Both his eyes
are never at once from home, but one keeps house while the other
roves abroad for intelligence. In material and weighty points,
he abides not his mind suspended in uncertainties, but hates doubt
ing where he may, where he should be resolute. And first, he
makes sure work for his soul ; accounting it no safety to be un
settled in the foreknowledge of his final estate : the best is first
regarded ; and vain is that regard which endeth not in security.
Every care hath his just order ; neither is there any one either
neglected or misplaced. He is seldom overseen with credulity :
for, knowing the falseness of the world, he hath learned to trust
himself always ; others, so far as he may not be damaged by their
disappointment. He seeks his quietness in secresy ; and is wont,
both to hide himself in retiredness, and his tongue in himself.
He loves to be guessed at, not known ; and to see the world,
unseen ; and when he is forced into the light, shows, by his
actions, that his obscurity was neither from affectation nor weak
ness. His purposes are neither so variable as may argue incon
stancy, nor obstinately unchangeable, but framed according to his
afterwits, or the strength of new occasions. He is both an apt
scholar and an excellent master ; for both every thing he sees in
forms him, and his mind, enriched with plentiful observation, can
give the best precepts. His free discourse runs back to the ages
past, and recovers events out of memory ; and then preventeth
time in flying forward to future things; and.comparing one with the
other, can give a verdict well near prophetical, wherein his con
jectures are better than another's judgments. His passions are
so many good servants, which stand in a diligent attendance, ready
to be commanded by reason, by religion; and if at any time,
forgetting their duty, they be miscarried to rebel, he can first

92 Practical Works.
conceal their mutiny, then suppress it. In all his just and worthy
designs he is never at a loss, but hath so projected all his courses
that a second begins where the first failed, and fetcheth strength
from that which succeeded not. There be wrongs which he will
not see ; neither doth he always look that way which he meaneth,
nor take notice of his secret smarts when they come from great
ones. In good turns he loves not to owe more than he must ; in
evil, to owe and not pay. Just censures he deserves not, for he
lives without the compass of an adversary ; unjust he contemneth,
and had rather suffer false infamy to die alone, than lay hands
upon it in an open violence. He confineth himself in the circle of
his own affairs, and lists not to thrust his finger into a needless fire.
He stands like a centre, unmoved, while the circumference of his
estate is drawn above, beneath, about him. Finally, his wit hath
cost him much, and he can both keep and value and employ it.
He is his own lawyer, the treasury of knowledge, the oracle of
counsel ; blind in no man's cause, best sighted in his own.
Of the honest man.
He looks not to what he might do, but what he should. Justice
is his first guide : the second law of his actions is expedience.
He had rather complain than offend : and hates sin more for the
indignity of it than the danger. His simple uprightness works
in him that confidence which ofttimes wrongs him, and gives ad
vantage to the subtle, when he rather pities their faithlessness
than repents of his credulity. He hath but one heart, and that
lies open to sight; and, were it not for discretion, he never
thinks aught whereof he would avoid a witness. His word is his
parchment, and his yea his oath ; which he will not violate for
fear or for loss. The mishaps of following events may cause him
to blame his providence, can never cause him to eat his promise :
neither saith he, " This I saw not," but, " This I said." When
he is made his friend's executor, he defrays debts, pays legacies ;
and scorneth to gain by orphans or to ransack graves : and
therefore will be true to a dead friend, because he sees him not.
All his dealings are square and above the board : he bewrays
the fault of what he sells, and restores the overseen gain of a
false reckoning. He esteems a bribe venomous, though it come
gilded over with the colour of gratuity. His cheeks are never
stained with the blushes of recantation, neither doth his tongue
falter, to make good a lie with the secret glosses of double or

Book I.] Characters of Virtues. 93
reserved senses : and when his name is traduced, his innocency
bears him out with courage : then, lo, he goes on the plain way
of truth, and will either triumph in his integrity or suffer with
it. His conscience overrules his providence : so as in all things,
good or ill, he respects the nature of the actions, not the sequel.
If he see what he must do, let God see what shall follow. He
never loadeth himself with burdens above his strength, beyond
his will ; and once bound, what he can he will do ; neither doth
he will but what he can do. His ear is the sanctuary of his
absent friend's name, of his present friend's secret: neither of
them can miscarry in his trust. He remembers the wrongs of his
youth, and repays them with that usury which he himself would
not take. He would rather want than borrow, and beg than not
pay. His fair conditions are without dissembling ; and he loves
actions above words. Finally, he hates falsehood worse than
death : he is a faithful client of truth ; no man's enemy ; and it
is a question, whether more another man's friend or his own.
And if there were no heaven, yet he would be virtuous.
Of the faithful man.
His eyes have no other objects but absent and invisible ;
which they see so clearly, as that to them sense is blind : that
which is present they see not; if I may not rather say, that
what is past or future is present to them. Herein he exceeds all
others, that to him nothing is impossible, nothing difficult,
whether to bear or undertake. He walks every day with his
Maker ; and talks with him familiarly ; and lives ever in heaven ;
and sees all earthly things beneath him. When he goes in to
converse with God, he wears not his own clothes, but takes them
still out of the rich wardrobe of his Redeemer ; and then dare
boldly press in, and challenge a blessing. The celestial spirits
do not scorn his company, yea, his service. He deals in these
worldly affairs as a stranger, and hath his heart ever at home.
Without a written warrant he dare do nothing, and with it any
thing. His war is perpetual; without truce, without intermis
sion : and his victory certain : he meets with the infernal powers,
and tramples them under feet: the shield that he ever bears
before him can neither be missed nor pierced : if his hand be
wounded, yet his heart is safe : he is often tripped, seldom foiled ;
and if sometimes foiled, never vanquished. He hath white hands
and a clean soul, fit to lodge God in, all the rooms whereof are

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set apart for his holiness. Iniquity hath oft called at the door,
and craved entertainment, but with a repulse : or if sin of force
will be his tenant, his lord he cannot. His faults are few, and
those he hath, God will not see. He is allied so high, that he
dare call God Father ; his Saviour, Brother ; heaven, his patri
mony : and thinks it no presumption to trust to the attendance
of angels. His understanding is enlightened with the beams of
divine truth : God hath acquainted him with his will ; and what
he knows he dare confess : there is not more love in his heart
than liberty in his tongue. If torments stand betwixt him and
Christ, if death, he contemns them ; and if his own parents lie in
his way to God, his holy carelessness makes them his footsteps.
His experiments have drawn forth rules of confidence, which he
dares oppose against all the fears of distrust : wherein he thinks
it safe to charge God with what he hath done, with what he hath
promised. Examples are his proofs, and instances his demon
strations: what hath God given which he cannot give? what
have others suffered which he may not be enabled to endure ? Is
he threatened banishment ? there he sees the dear evangelist in
Patmos : cutting in pieces ? he sees Isaiah under the saw : drown
ing? he sees Jonas diving into the living gulf: burning? he sees
the three children in the hot walk of the furnace : devouring ? he
sees Daniel in the sealed den, amidst his terrible companions :
stoning? he sees the first martyr under his heap of many grave
stones : heading ? lo there the Baptist's neck, bleeding in Hero-
dias' platter : he emulates their pain, their strength, their glory.
He wearies not himself with cares ; for he knows he lives not
of his own cost, not idly omitting means, but not using them
with diffidence. In the midst of ill rumours and amazements, his
countenance changeth not; for he knows both whom he hath
trusted, and whither death can lead him. He is not so sure he
shall die, as that he shall be restored ; and outfaceth his death
with his resurrection. Finally, he is rich in works; busy in
obedience ; cheerful and unmoved in expectation ; better with
evils; in common opinion, miserable; but in true judgment, more
than a man. Ofthe humble man,
He is a friendly enemy to himself: for, though he be not out
of his own favour, no man sets so low a value of his worth as
himself; not out of ignorance or carelessness, but of a voluntary
and meek dejectedness. He admires every thing in another,

Book I.] Characters of Virtues. 95
while the same or better in himself he thinks not unworthily
contemned : his eyes are full of his own wants and others' per
fections. He loves rather to give than take honour; not in a
fashion of complimental courtesy, but in simplicity of his judg
ment : neither doth he fret at those on whom he forceth prece
dency, as one that hoped their modesty would have refused ; but
holds his mind unfeignedly below his place, and is ready to go
lower, if need be, without discontentment. When he hath but
his due, he magnifieth courtesy, and disclaims his deserts. He
can be more ashamed of honour than grieved with contempt ;
because he thinks that causeless, this deserved. His face, his
carriage, his habit, savour of lowliness, without affectation, and
yet he is much under that he seemeth. His words are few and
soft ; never either peremptory or censorious ; because he thinks
both each man more wise, and none more faulty than himself;
and when he approacheth to the throne of God, he is so taken
up with the divine greatness, that in his own eyes he is either
vile or nothing. Places of public charge are fain to sue to him,
and hale him out of his chosen obscurity: which he holds off;
not cunningly, to cause importunity, but sincerely, in the con
science of his defects. He frequenteth not the stages of common
resorts, and then alone thinks himself in his natural element
when he is shrouded within his~ own walls. He is ever jealous
over himself, and still suspecteth that which others applaud.
There is no better object of beneficence : for what he receives
he ascribes merely to the bounty of the giver, nothing to merit.
He emulates no man in any thing but goodness, and that with
more desire than hope to overtake. No man is so contented with
his little, and so patient under miseries ; because he knows the
greatest evils are below his sins, and the least favours above his
deservings. He walks ever in awe, and dare not but subject
every word and action to a high and just censure. He is a lowly
valley, sweetly planted and well watered : the proud man's earth,
whereon he trampleth ; but secretly full of wealthy mines, more
worth than he that walks over them : a rich stone, set in lead :
and, lastly, a true temple of God, built with a low roof.
Of a valiant man.
He undertakes without rashness, and performs without fear.
He seeks not for dangers ; but when they find him, he bears
them over with courage, with success. He hath ofttimes looked
death in the face, and passed by it with a smile ; and when he

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sees he must yield, doth at once welcome and contemn it. He
forecasts the worst of all events, and encounters them before they
come, in a secret and mental war : and if the suddenness of an
unexpected evil have surprised his thoughts, and infected his
cheeks with paleness, he hath no sooner digested it in his conceit,
than he gathers up himself and insults over mischief. He is the
master of himself, and subdues his passions to reason; and by
this inward victory works his own peace. He is afraid of no
thing but the displeasure of the Highest, and runs away from
nothing but sin. He looks not on his hands, but his cause ; not
how strong he is, but how innocent : and where goodness is his
warrant, he may be overmastered, he cannot be foiled. The
sword is to him the last of all trials, which he draws forth still as
defendant, not as challenger, with a willing kind of unwilling
ness ; no man can better manage it with more safety, with more
favour. He had rather have his blood seen than his back, and
disdains life upon base conditions. No man is more mild to a
relenting or vanquished adversary, or more hates to set his foot
on a carcass : he had rather smother an injury than revenge
himself of the impotent ; and I know not whether more detests
cowardliness or cruelty. He talks little, and brags less ; and
loves rather the silent language of the hand ; to be seen than
heard. He lies ever close within himself, armed with wise reso
lution ; and will not be discovered but by death or danger. He
is neither prodigal of blood, to misspend it idly ; nor niggardly,
to grudge it, when either God calls for it, or his country : neither
is he more liberal of his own life than of others'. His power is
limited by his will ; and he holds it the noblest revenge, that he
might hurt and doth not. He commands, without tyranny and
imperiousness ; obeys, without servility : and changes not his
mind with his estate. The height of his spirits overlooks all
casualties, and his boldness proceeds neither from ignorance nor
senselessness; but first he values evils, and then despises them.
He is so ballacedb with wisdom, that he floats steadily in the
midst of all tempests. Deliberate in his purposes ; firm in reso
lution ; bold in enterprising ; unwearied in achieving ; and, how
soever, happy in success : and if ever he be overcome, his heart
yields last. The patient man.
The patient man is made of metal not so hard as flexible. His
b [ballasted : see Minshew, v. ballace.]

Book L] Characters of Virtues. 97
shoulders are large, fit for a load of injuries ; which he bears, not
out of baseness and cowardliness, because he dare not revenge,
but out of Christian fortitude, because he may not : he hath so
conquered himself, that wrongs cannot conquer him ; and herein
alone finds that victory consists in yielding. He is above nature,
while he seems below himself. The vilest creature knows how to
turn again, but to command himself not to resist, being urged, is
more than heroical. His constructions are ever full of charity and
favour ; either this wrong was not done, or not with intent of wrong,
or if that, upon misinformation, or if none of these, rashness,
though a fault, shall serve for an excuse. Himself craves the of
fender's pardon before his confession, and a slight answer contents
where the offended desires to forgive. He is God's best witness ;
and when he stands before the bar for truth, his tongue is calmly
free, his forehead firm, and he, with erect and settled countenance,
hears his unjust sentence, and rejoices in it. The gaolers that at
tend him are to him his pages of honour ; his dungeon, the lower
part of the vault of heaven ; his rack or wheel, the stairs of his
ascent to glory : he challengeth his executioners, and encounters
the fiercest pains with strength of resolution ; and, while he suffers,
the beholders pity him, the tormentors complain of weariness, and
both of them wonder. No anguish can master him, whether by
violence or by lingering. He accounts expectation no punish
ment, and can abide to have his hopes adjourned till a new day.
Good laws serve for his protection, not for his revenge ; and his
own power, to avoid indignities not to return them. His hopes,
are so strong, that they can insult over the greatest discourage
ments, and his apprehensions so deep, that when he hath once
fastened, he sooner leaveth his life than his hold. Neither time
nor perverseness can make him cast off his charitable endeavours,
and despair of prevailing ; but, in spite of all crosses and all de
nials, he redoubleth his beneficial offers of love. He trieth the sea
after many shipwrecks, and beats still at that door which he never
saw opened. Contrariety of events doth but exercise, not dismay
him ;' and when crosses afflict him, he sees a divine hand invisibly
striking with these sensible scourges, against which he dares not
rebel or murmur. Hence all things befall him alike, and he goes
with the same mind to the shambles and to the fold. His recre
ations are calm and gentle, and not more full of relaxation than
void of fury. This man only can turn necessity into virtue, and
put evil to good use. He is the surest friend, the latest and easiest
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. H

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enemy, the greatest conqueror ; and so much more happy than
others, by how much he could abide to be more miserable.
Ofthe true friend.
His affections are both united and divided ; united, to him he
loveth ; divided, betwixt another and himself: and his own heart is
so parted, that while he hath some, his friend hath all. His choice
is led by virtue, or by the best of virtues, religion ; not by gain,
not by pleasure ; yet not without respect of equal condition, of
disposition not unlike ; which, once made, admits of no change ; ex
cept he whom he loveth, be changed quite from himself; nor that
suddenly, but after long expectation. Extremity doth but fasten
him, while he, like a well wrought vault, lies the stronger by
how much more weight he bears. When necessity calls him to it,
he can be a servant to his equal, with the same will wherewith he
can command his inferior ; and though he rise to honour, forgets
not his familiarity, nor suffers inequality of estate to work strange
ness of countenance : on the other side, he lifts up his friend to
advancement with a willing hand, without envy, without dissimu
lation. When his mate is dead, he accounts himself but half alive ;
then his love, not dissolved by death, derives itself to those orphans
which never knew the price of their father; they become the
heirs of his affection and the burden of his cares. He embraces
a free community of all things, save those which either honesty
reserves proper, or nature ; and hates to enjoy that which would
do his friend more good. His charity serves to cloak noted in
firmities, not by untruth, not by flattery, but by discreet secresy ;
neither is he more favourable in concealment than round in his
private reprehensions ; and when another's simple fidelity shows
itself in his reproof, he loves his monitor so much the more by
how much more he smarteth. His bosom is his friend's closet,
where he may safely lay up his complaints, his doubts, his cares ;
and look, how he leaves so he finds them, save for some addition
of seasonable counsel for redress. If some unhappy suggestion
shall either disjoint his affection or break it, it soon knits again,
and grows the stronger by that stress. He is so sensible of an
other's injuries, that when his friend is stricken he cries out, and
equally smarteth untouched, as one affected, not with sympathy,
but with a real feeling of pain ; and in what mischief may be pre
vented he interposeth his aid, and offers to redeem his friend with
himself; no hour can be unseasonable, no business difficult, nor

Book I.] Characters qf Virtues. 99
pain grievous, in condition of his ease ; and what either he doth
or suffereth, he neither cares nor desires to have known, lest he
should seem to look for thanks. If he can therefore steal the
performance of a good office unseen, the conscience of his faithful
ness herein is so much sweeter as it is more secret. In favours
done, his memory is frail ; in benefits received, eternal : he scorneth
either to regard recompense, or not to offer it. He is the comfort
of miseries, the guide of difficulties, the joy of life, the treasure of
earth, and no other than a good angel clothed in flesh.
Of the truly noble.
He stands not upon what he borrowed of his ancestors, but
thinks he must work out his own honour ; and if he cannot reach
the virtue of them that gave him outward glory by inheritance,
he is more abashed of his impotency than transported with a great
name. Greatness doth not make him scornful and imperious, but
rather like the fixed stars ; the higher he is, the less he desires to
seem ; neither cares he so much for pomp and frothy ostentation
as for the solid truth of nobleness. Courtesy and sweet affability
can be no more severed from him than life from his soul ; not out
of a base and servile popularity, and desire of ambitious insinuation ;
but of a native gentleness of disposition, and true value of himself.
His hand is open and bounteous, yet not so as that he should
rather respect his glory than his estate ; wherein his wisdom can
distinguish betwixt parasites and friends, betwixt changing of fa
vours and expending them. He scorneth to make his height a
privilege of looseness ; but accounts his titles vain, if he be inferior
to others in goodness ; and thinks he should be more strict the
more eminent he is, because he is more observed, and now his of
fences are become exemplar. There is no virtue that he holds
unfit for ornament, for use ; nor any vice which he condemns not
as sordid, and a fit companion of baseness, and whereof he doth
not more hate the blemish than affect the pleasure. He so studies,
as one that knows ignorance can neither purchase honour nor
wield it ; and that knowledge must both guide and grace him. His
exercises are from his childhood ingenuous, manly, decent ; and
such as tend still to wit, valour, activity; and if, as seldom, he
descend to disports of chance, his games shall never make him
either pale with fear or hot with desire of gain. He doth not so
use his followers, as if he thought they were made for nothing but
his servitude ; whose felicity were only to be commanded and
H 2

100 Practical Works.
please ; wearing them to the back, and then either finding or
framing excuses to discard them empty ; but upon all opportunities
lets them feel the sweetness of their own serviceableness and his
bounty. Silence, in officious service, is the best oratory to plead
for his respect ; all diligence is but lent to him, none lost. His
wealth stands in receiving, his honour in giving; he cares not
either how many hold of his goodness, or to how few he is be
holden ; and if he have cast away favours, he hates either to up
braid them to his enemy or to challenge restitution. None can be
more pitiful to the distressed or more prone to succour, and then
most, where is least means to solicit, least possibility of requital.
He is equally addressed to war and peace ; and knows not more
how to command others, than how to be his country's servant in
both. He is more careful to give true honour to his Maker, than
to receive civil honour from men. He knows that this service is
free and noble, and ever loaded with sincere glory ; and how vain
it is to hunt after applause from the world, till he be sure of him
that mouldeth all hearts, and poureth contempt on princes ; and,
shortly, so demeans himself, as one that accounts the body of no
bility to consist in blood, the soul, in the eminence of virtue.
Of the good magistrate.
He is the faithful deputy of his Maker, whose obedience is the
rule whereby he ruleth. His breast is the ocean whereinto all the
cares of private men empty themselves ; which as he receives with
out complaint and overflowing, so he sends them forth again by a
wise conveyance in the streams of justice. His doors, his ears are
ever open to suitors; and not who comes first speeds well, but
whose cause is best. His nights, his meals are short and inter
rupted ; all which he bears well, because he knows himself made
for a public servant of peace and justice. He sits quietly at the
stern, and commands one to the topsail, another to the main, a
third to the plummet, a fourth to the anchor, as he sees the need
of their course and weather requires ; and doth no less by his
tongue than all the mariners with their hands. On the bench,
he is another from himself at home ; now all private respects, of
blood, alliance, amity, are forgotten ; and if his own son come under
trial, he knows him not. Pity, which in all others is wont to be
the best praise of humanity and the fruit of Christian love, is by
him thrown over the bar for corruption. As for Favour, the false
advocate of the gracious, he allows him not to appear in the court ;

Book I.] Characters of Virtues. 101
there only causes are heard speak, not persons. Eloquence is
then only not discouraged when she serves for a client of truth ;
mere narrations are allowed in this oratory, not proems, not ex
cursions, not glosses ; truth must strip herself, and come in naked
to his bar, without false bodies or colours, without disguises. A
bribe in his closet, or a letter on the bench, or the whispering
and winks of a great neighbour, are answered with an angry and
courageous repulse. Displeasure, revenge, recompense, stand on
both sides the bench, but he scorns to turn his eye towards them,
looking only right forward at equity, which stands full before
him. His sentence is ever deliberate, and guided with ripe wisdom ;
yet his hand is slower than his tongue ; but when he is urged by
occasion either to doom or execution, he shows how much he hateth
merciful injustice; neither can his resolution or act be reversed with
partial importunity. His forehead is rugged and severe, able to
discountenance villany ; yet his words are more awful than his
brow, and his hand than his words. I know not whether he be
more feared or loved, both affections are so sweetly contempered
in all hearts : the good, fear him lovingly ; the middle sort, love
him fearfully ; and only the wicked man fears him slavishly, with
out love. He hates to pay private wrongs with the advantage of
his office, and if ever he be partial, it is to his enemy. He is not
more sage in his gown than valorous in arms, and increaseth in
the rigour of his discipline as the times in danger. His sword
hath neither rusted for want of use, nor surfeiteth of blood ; but
after many threats is unsheathed, as the dreadful instrument of
divine revenge. He is the guard of good laws, the refuge of in-
nocency, the comet of the guilty, the paymaster of good deserts>
the champion of justice, the patron of peace, the tutor of the
church, the father of his country, and, as it were, another god
upon earth. Of the penitent.
He hath a wounded heart and a sad face ; yet not so much for
fear as for unkindness. The wrong of his sin troubles him more
than the danger. None but he is the better for his sorrow,
neither is any passion more hurtful to others than this is gainful
to him. The more he seeks to hide his grief, the less it will be
hid; every man may read it, not only in his eyes, but in his
bones. While he is in charity with all others, he is so fallen
out with himself, that none but God can reconcile him : he hath

102 Practical Works.
sued himself in all courts ; accuseth, arraigneth, sentenceth,
punisheth himself unpartially ; and sooner may find mercy at
any hand than at his own. He only hath pulled off the fair visor
of sin : so as that which appears not but masked unto others, is
seen of him barefaced ; and bewrays that fearful ugliness which
none can conceive but he that hath viewed it. He hath looked
into the depth of the bottomless pit ; and hath seen his own
offence tormented in others, and the same brands shaken at him.
He hath seen the change of faces in that Evil one, as a tempter, as
a tormenter, and hath heard the noise of a conscience ; and is so
frighted with all these, that he can never have rest till he have
run out of himself to God ; in whose face at first he finds rigour;
but afterwards sweetness in his bosom : he bleeds first from the
hand that heals him. The law of God hath made work for
mercy ; which he hath no sooner apprehended than he forgets
his wounds, and looks carelessly upon all these terrors of guilti
ness. When he casts his eye back upon himself, he wonders
where he was, and how he came there ; and grants, that if there
were not some witchcraft in sin, he could not have been so sot-
tishly graceless. And now, in the issue, Satan finds, not without
indignation and repentance, that he hath done him a good turn
in tempting* him ; for he had never been so good if he had
not sinned; he had never fought with such courage if he had
not seen his blood, and been ashamed of his foil. Now, he is
seen and felt in the front of the spiritual battle ; and can teach
others how to fight, and encourage them in fighting. His heart
was never more taken up with the pleasure of sin, than now with
care of avoiding it : the very sight of that cup, wherein such a
fulsome potion was brought him, turns his stomach : the first
offers of sin make him tremble more now, than he did before at
the judgments of his sin ; neither dares he so much as look to
wards Sodom. All the powers and craft of hell cannot fetch hira
in for a customer to evil ; his infirmity may yield once, his reso
lution never. There is none of his senses or parts which he hath
not within covenants for their good behaviour, which they cannot
ever break with impunity. The wrongs of his sin he repays to
men with recompense, as hating it should be said, he owes any
thing to his offence ; to God, what in him lies, with sighs, tears,
vows, and endeavours of amendment. No heart is more waxen
to the impressions of forgiveness ; neither are his hands more
open to receive than to give pardon. All the injuries which are

Book I.J Characters of Virtues. 103
offered to him are swallowed up in his wrongs to his Maker and
Redeemer : neither can he call for the arrearages of his farthings,
when he looks upon the millions forgiven him : he feels not what
he suffers from men, when he thinks of what he hath done and
should have suffered. He is a thankful herald of the mercies of
his God ; which if all the world hear not from his mouth, it is no
fault of his. Neither did he so burn with the evil fires of con
cupiscence, as now with the holy flames of zeal to that glory
which he hath blemished ; and his eyes are full of moisture as his
heart of heat. The gates of heaven are not so knocked at by any
suitor, whether for frequence or importunity. You shall find
his cheeks furrowed ; his knees hard ; his lips sealed up, save
when he must accuse himself, or glorify God ; his eyes humbly
dejected ; and sometimes you shall take him breaking off a sigh
in the midst; as one that would steal an humiliation unknown,
and would be offended with any part that should not keep his
counsel. When he finds his soul oppressed with the heavy guilt
of a sin, he gives it vent through his mouth into the ear of his
spiritual Physician, from whom he receives cordials answerable
to his complaint. He is a severe exactor of discipline ; first, upon
himself, on whom he imposes more than one Lent ; then, upon
others, as one that vowed to be revenged on sin wheresoever he
finds it ; and though but one hath offended him, yet his detesta
tion is universal. He is his own taskmaster for devotion ; and
if Christianity have any work more difficult or perilous than other,
that he enjoins himself ; and resolves contentment even in mis
carriage. It is no marvel if the acquaintance of his wilder times
know him not, for he is quite another from himself; and if his
mind could have had any intermission of dwelling within his
breast, it could not have known this was the lodging ; nothing
but an outside is the same it was, and that altered more with
regeneration than with age. None but he can relish the promises
of the gospel ; which he finds so sweet, that he complains not his
thirst after them is unsatiable. And now that he hath found his
Saviour, he hugs him so fast, and holds him so dear, that he feels
not when his life is fetched away from him for his martyrdom.
The latter part of his life is so led, as if he desired to unlive his
youth : and his last testament is full of restitutions and legacies
of piety. In sum, he hath so lived and died, as that Satan hath
no such match ; sin hath no such enemy ; God hath no such ser
vant as he.

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He is an happy man,
That hath learned to read himself more than all books, and
hath so taken out this lesson, that he can never forget it ; that
knows the world, and cares not for it ; that, after many traverses
of thoughts, is grown to know what he may trust to, and stands
now equally armed for all events ; that hath got the mastery at
home ; so as he can cross his will without a mutiny, and so please
it, that he makes it not a wanton : that in earthly things wishes
no more than nature ; in spiritual, is ever graciously ambitious :
that for his condition, stands on his own feet, not needing to lean
upon the great ; and can so frame his thoughts to his estate, that
when he hath least he cannot want, because he is as free from
desire as superfluity: that hath seasonably broken the headstrong
restiness of prosperity, and can now manage it at pleasure ; upon
whom all smaller crosses light as hailstones upon a roof; and for
the greater calamities, he can take them as tributes of hfe and
tokens of love ; and if his ship be tossed, yet he is sure his anchor
is fast. If all the world were his, he could be no other than he
is ; no whit gladder of himself, no whit higher in his carriage ;
because he knows contentment lies not in the things he hath, but
in the mind that values them. The powers of his resolution can
either multiply or subtract at pleasure. He can make his cottage
a manor or a palace when he lists; and his home -close a large
dominion ; his stained cloth, arras ; his earth, plate ; and can see
state in the attendance of one servant : as one that hath learned,
a man's greatness or baseness is in himself ; and in this he may
even contest with the proud, that he thinks his own the best. Or,
if he must be outwardly great, he can but turn the other end of
the glass, and make his stately manor a low and strait cottage ;
and in all his costly furniture, he can see, not richness, but use :
he can see dross in the best metal ; and earth through the best
clothes : and in all his troop he can see himself his own servant.
He lives quietly at home, out of the noise of the world ; and loves
to enjoy himself always ; and sometimes his friend : and hath
as full scope to his thoughts as to his eyes. He walks ever even,
in the midway betwixt hopes and fears ; resolved to fear nothing
but God, to hope for nothing but that which he must have. He
hath a wise and virtuous mind in a serviceable body, which that
better part affects as a present servant and a future companion ; so
cherishing his flesh, as one that would scorn to be all flesh. He

Book I.] Characters of Virtues. 105
hath no enemies ; not for that all love him, but because he knows
to make a gain of malice. He is not so engaged to any earthly
thing that they two cannot part on even terms ; there is neither
laughter in their meeting, nor in their shaking of hands tears.
He keeps ever the best company ; the God of spirits, and the
spirits of that God ; whom he entertains continually in an awful
familiarity ; not being hindered, either with too much light, or with
none at all. His conscience and his hand are friends, and, what
devil soever tempt him, will not fall out : that divine part goes
ever uprightly and freely ; not stooping under the burden of a
willing sin, not fettered with the gives of unjust scruples. He
would not, if he could, run away from himself or from God ; not
caring from whom he lies hid, so he may look these two in the
face. Censures and applauses are passengers to him, not guests ;
his ear is their thoroughfare, not their harbour ; he hath learned
to fetch both his counsel and his sentence from his own breast.
He doth not lay weight upon his own shoulders, as one that loves
to torment himself, with the honour of much employment ; but,
as he makes work his game, so doth he not list to make himself
work. His strife is ever to redeem, and not to spend time. It is
his trade to do good, and to think of it his recreation. He hath
hands enow for himself and others ; which are ever stretched
forth for beneficence, not for need. He walks cheerfully in the
way that God hath chalked, and never wishes it more wide or
more smooth. Those very temptations whereby he is foiled
strengthen him : he comes forth crowned and triumphing out of
the spiritual battles ; and those scars that he hath, make him
beautiful. His soul is every day dilated to receive that God in
whom he is ; and hath attained to love himself for God, and God
for his own sake. His eyes stick so fast in heaven, that no earthly
object can remove them : yea, his whole self is there before his
time ; and sees with Stephen, and hears with Paul, and enjoys
with Lazarus, the glory that he shall have ; and takes possession
beforehand of his room amongst the saints. And these heavenly
contentments have so taken him up, that now he looks down dis
pleasedly upon the earth, as the region of his sorrow and banish
ment : yet, joying more in hope than troubled with the sense of
evils, he holds it no great matter to live, and his greatest business
to die; and is so well acquainted with his last guest, that he
fears no unkindness from him : neither makes he any other of
dying than of walking home when he is abroad ; or of going to

106 Practical Works.
bed when he is weary of the day. He is well provided for both
worlds ; and is sure of peace here, of glory hereafter ; and
therefore hath a light heart and a cheerful face. All his fellow-
creatures rejoice to serve him : his betters, the angels, love to
observe him : God himself takes pleasure to converse with him ;
and hath sainted him afore his death, and in his death crowned
him.

BOOK II.

CHARACTERISMS OF VICES.
The Proem.
I have showed you many fair virtues. I speak not for them :
if their sight cannot command affection, let them lose it. They
shall please yet better after you have troubled your eyes a little
with the view of deformities ; and by how much more they please,
so much more odious and like themselves shall these deformities
appear. This light contraries give to each other in the midst of
their enmity, that one makes the other seem more good or ill.
Perhaps in some of these (which thing I do at once fear and hate)
my style shall seem to some less grave, more satirical. If you
find me not without cause jealous, let it please you to impute it
to the nature of those vices which will not be otherwise handled.
The fashions of some evils are, besides the odiousness, ridiculous ;
which to repeat is to seem bitterly merry. I abhor to make sport
with wickedness, and forbid any laughter here but of disdain.
Hypocrisy shall lead this ring : worthily, I think, because both
she cometh nearest to virtue, and is the worst of vices.
The hypocrite.
An hypocrite is the worst kind of player, by so much as he
acts the better part : which hath always two faces ; ofttimes two
hearts : that can compose his forehead to sadness and gravity,
while he bids his heart be wanton and careless within ; and in the
mean time laughs within himself to think how smoothly he hath
cozened the beholder : in whose silent face are written the cha
racters of religion, which his tongue and gestures pronounce, but
his hands recant : that hath a clean face and garment, with a
foul soul : whose mouth belies hisheart, and his fingers belie his

Book II. ] Characters of Vices. 107
mouth. Walking early up into the city, he turns into the great
church, and salutes one of the pillars on one knee ; worshipping
that God, which at home he cares not for : while his eye is fixed
on some window, on some passenger ; and his heart knows not
whither his lips go : he rises, and, looking about with admiration,
complains of our frozen charity; commends the ancient. At
church he will ever sit where he may be seen best ; and in the
midst of the sermon pulls out his tables in haste, as if he feared
to lose that note ; when he writes, either his forgotten errand,
or nothing : then he turns his Bible with a noise to seek an
omitted quotation ; and folds the leaf, as if he had found it ; and
asks aloud the name of the preacher, and repeats it ; whom he
publicly salutes, thanks, praises, invites, entertains with tedious
good counsel, with good discourse, if it had come from an honester
mouth. He can command tears when he speaks of his youth ;
indeed because it is past, not because it was sinful : himself is
now better, but the times are worse. All other sins he reckons
up with detestation, while he loves and hides his darhng in his
bosom. All his speech returns to himself, and every occurrent
draws in a story to his own praise. When he should give, he
looks about him, and says, "Who sees me?" No alms, no prayers
fall from him without a witness : belike, lest God should deny
that he hath received them : and when he hath done, lest the
world should not know it, his own mouth is his trumpet to pro
claim it. With the superfluity of his usury he builds an hospital,
and harbours them whom his extortion hath spoiled : so, while
he makes many beggars, he keeps some. He turneth all gnats
into camels ; and cares not to undo the world for a circumstance :
flesh on a Friday is more abomination to him than his neigh
bour's bed : he abhors more, not to uncover at the name of
Jesus, than to swear by the name of God. When a rhymer reads
his poem to him, he begs a copy, and persuades the press. There
is nothing that he dislikes in presence that in absence he cen
sures not. He comes to the sick bed of his stepmother and
weeps, when he secretly fears her recovery. He greets his friend
in the street with so clear a countenance, so fast a closure, that
the other thinks he reads his heart in his face ; and shakes hands
with an indefinite invitation of, "When will you come?" and
when his back is turned, joys that he is so well rid of a guest :
yet if that guest visit him unfeareda, he counterfeits a smiling
a [This word as it stands here is scarcely intelligible : may we not read nnfared,
without fare, unprovided with a meal ?]

108 Practical Works.
welcome ; and excuses his cheer, when closely he frowns on his
wife for too much. He shows well, and says well; and himself
is the worst thing he hath. In brief, he is the stranger's saint ;
the neighbour's disease ; the blot of goodness ; a rotten stick in a
dark night ; a poppy in a cornfield ; an ill tempered candle, with
a great snuff, that in going out smells ill; an angel abroad, a
devil at home ; and worse when an angel than when a devil.
The busybody.
His estate is too narrow for his mind, and therefore he is fain
to make himself room in others' affairs ; yet ever, in pretence of
love. No news can stir but by his door ; neither can he know
that which he must not tell. What every man ventures in Guiana
voyage, and what they gained, he knows to a hair. Whether
Holland will have peace, he knows ; and on what conditions, and
with what success, is familiar to him, ere it be concluded. No
post can pass him without a question ; and rather than he will
lose the news, he rides back with him to appose him of tidings :
and then to the next man he meets he supplies the wants of his
hasty intelligence, and makes up a perfect tale ; wherewith he so
haunteth the patient auditor, that, after many excuses, he is fain
to endure rather the censure of his manners in running away, than
the tediousness of an impertinent discourse. His speech is oft
broken off with a succession of long parentheses, which he ever
vows to fill up ere the conclusion ; and perhaps would effect it, if
the other's ear were as unweariable as his tongue. If he see but
two men talk, and read a letter in the street, he runs to them,
and asks if he may not be partner of that secret relation ; and if
they deny it, he offers to tell, since he may not hear, wonders :
and then falls upon the report of the Scottish mine, or of the
great fish taken up at Lynn, or of the freezing of the Thames ;
and, after many thanks and dismissions, is hardly entreated si
lence. He undertakes as much as he performs little. This man
will thrust himself forward, to be the guide of the way he knows
not; and calls at his neighbour's window, and asks why his
servants are not at work. The market hath no commodity which
he prizeth not, and which the next table shall not hear recited.
His tongue, hke the tail of Samson's foxes, carries firebrands,
and is enough to set the whole field of the world on a flame.
Himself begins tabletalk of his neighbour at another's board ; to
whom he bears the first news, and adjures him to conceal the
reporter : whose choleric answer he returns to his first host,

Book IL] Characters qf Vices. 109
enlarged with a second edition : so, as it uses to be done in the
fight of unwilling mastiffs, he claps each on the side apart, and
provokes them to an eager conflict. There can no act pass without
his comment ; which is ever far-fetched, rash, suspicious, delatory.
His ears are long, and his eyes quick ; but most of all to imper
fections, which as he easily sees, so he increases with intermed
dling. He harbours another man's servant ; and, amidst his en
tertainment, asks what fare is usual at home, what hours are kept,
what talk passeth their meals, what his master's disposition is,
what his government, what his guests : and when he hath by
curious inquiries extracted all the juice and spirit of hoped intel
ligence, turns him off whence he came, and works on a new. He
hates constancy, as an earthen dulness, unfit for men of spirit ;
and loves to change his work and his place : neither yet can he
be so soon weary of any place as every place is weary of him :
for as he sets himself on work, so others pay him with hatred ;
and look, how many masters he hath, so many enemies ; neither
is it possible that any should not hate him but who know him
not. So then he labours without thanks ; talks without credit ;
lives without love; dies without tears, without pity; save that
some say, " It was pity he died no sooner."
The superstitious.
Superstition is godless religion, devout impiety. The super
stitious is fond in observation, servile in fear ; he worships God
but as he lists ; he gives God what he asks not, more than he
asks, and all but what he should give, and makes more sins than
the Ten Commandments. This man dares not stir forth till his
breast be crossed and his face sprinkled. If but an bare cross him
the way, he returns ; or if his-journey began, unawares, on the dis
mal day ; or, if he stumbled at the threshold. If he see a snake
unkilled, he fears a mischief; if the salt fall towards him, he looks
pale and red, and is not quiet till one of the waiters have poured
wine on his lap ; and when he sneezeth, thinks them not his friends
that uncover not. In the morning, he listens whether the crow
crieth even or odd, and by that token presages of the weather.
If he hear but a raven croak from the next roof, he makes his
will ; or if a bittour fly over his head by night : but if his troubled
fancy shall second his thoughts with the dream of a fair garden,
or green rushes, or the salutation of a dead friend, he takes leave
of the world, and says he cannot live. He will never set to sea

110 Practical Works.
but on a Sunday, neither ever goes without an Erra Pater in his
pocket. St. Paul's day, and St. Swithin's, with the twelve, are his
oracles, which he dares believe, against the almanack. When he
lies sick on his deathbed, no sin troubles him so much, as that he
did once eat flesh on a Friday : no repentance can expiate that ;
the rest need none. There is no dream of his without an inter
pretation, without a prediction ; and if the event answer not his
exposition, he expounds it according to the event. Every dark
grove and pictured wall strikes him with an awful, but carnal de
votion. Old wives and stars are his counsellors : his nightspell is
his guard ; and charms, his physicians. He wears Paracelsian cha
racters for the toothache ; and a little hallowed wax is his antidote
for all evils. This man is strangely credulous, and calls impos
sible things miraculous : if he hear that some sacred block speaks,
moves, weeps, smiles, his bare feet carry him thither with an
offering ; and if a danger miss him in the way, his saint hath the
thanks. Some ways he will not go, and some he dares not ; either
there are bugsb, or he feigneth them ; every lantern is a ghost,
and every noise is of chains. He knows not why, but his custom
is to go a little about, and to leave the cross still on the right
hand. One event is enough to make a rule : out of these rules
he concludes fashions, proper to himself; and nothing can turn him
out of his own course. If he have done his task, he is safe : it
matters not with what affection. Finally, if God would let him
be the carver of his own obedience, he could not have a better sub
ject : as he is, he cannot have a worse.
The profane.
The superstitious hath too many gods : the profane man hath
none at all ; unless perhaps himself be his own deity, and the world
his heaven. To matter of religion his heart is a piece of dead
flesh, without feeling of love, of fear, of care, or of pain from the
deaf strokes of a revenging conscience. Custom of sin hath wrought
this senselessness ; which now hath been so long entertained, that
it pleads prescription, and knows not to be altered. This is no
sudden evil : we are born sinful, but have made ourselves profane ;
through many degrees we climb to this height of impiety. At first,
he sinned, and cared not; now he sinneth, and knoweth not.
Appetite is his lord, and reason his servant, and religion his drudge.
Sense is the rule of his belief; and if piety may be an advantage,
¦> [i. e. bugbears.]

Book II. ] Characters of Vices. Ill
he can at once counterfeit and deride it. When aught succeedeth
to him, he " sacrifices to his nets," and thanks either his fortune
or his wit, and will rather make a false god than acknowledge the
true ; if contrary, he cries out of destiny, and blames Him to whom
he will not be beholden. His conscience would fain speak with
him, but he will not hear it ; sets the day, but he disappoints it ;
and when it cries loud for audience, he drowns the noise with
good fellowship. He never names God, but in his oaths ; never
thinks of him, but in extremity : and then he knows not how to
think of him, because he begins but then. He quarrels for the
hard conditions of his pleasure, for his future damnation ; and, from
himself, lays all the fault upon his Maker ; and from his decree
fetcheth excuses of his wickedness. The inevitable necessity of
God's counsel makes him desperately careless ; so, with good food
he poisons himself. Goodness is his minstrel ; neither is any
mirth so cordial to him as his sport with God's fools. Every
virtue hath his slander, and his jest to laugh it out of fashion ;
every vice, his colour. His usuallest theme is the boast of his
young sins ; which he can still joy in, though he cannot commit :
and, if it may be, his speech makes him worse than he is. He
cannot think of death with patience, without terror ; which he
therefore fears worse than hell, because this he is sure of, the
other he but doubts of. He comes to church as to the theatre,
(saving that not so willingly,) for company, for custom, for re
creation ; perhaps for sleep, or to feed his eyes or his ears : as for
his soul, he cares no more than if he had none. He loves none
but himself, and that not enough to seek his true good ; neither
cares he on whom he treads, that he may rise. His life is full of
license, and his practice of outrage. He is hated of God as much
as he hateth goodness ; and differs little from a devil, but that he
hath a body. The malecontent.
He is neither well, full nor fasting ; and though he abound with
complaints, yet nothing dislikes him but the present ; for what he
condemned while it was, once past he magnifies, and strives to
recall it out of the jaws of time. What he hath, he seeth not ; his
eyes are so taken up with what he wants : and what he sees, he
cares not for ; because he cares so much for that which is not.
When his friend carves him the best morsel, he murmurs, " That it
is a happy feast wherein each one may cut for himself." When a
present is sent him, he asks, "Is this all?" and "What! no

112 Practical Works.-
better ?" and so accepts it as if he would have his friend know
how much he is bound to him for vouchsafing to receive it : it is
hard to entertain him with a proportionable gift : if nothing, he
cries out of unthankfulness ; if little, that he is basely regarded; if
much, he exclaims of flattery and expectation of a large requital.
Every blessing hath somewhat to disparage and distaste it ; children
bring cares ; single life is wild and solitary ; eminency is envious ;
retiredness, obscure ; fasting, painful ; satiety, unwieldy ; religion,
nicely severe ; liberty is lawless ; wealth burdensome ; mediocrity
contemptible : every thing faulteth either in too much or too httle.
This man is ever headstrong and self-willed ; neither is he always
tied to esteem or pronounce according to reason ; some things he
must dislike, he knows not wherefore, but he likes them not ; and
otherwhere, rather than not censure, he will accuse a man of
virtue. Every thing he meddleth with, he either findeth imperfect
or maketh so ; neither is there any thing that soundeth so harsh
in his ear as the commendation of another ; whereto yet per
haps he fashionably and coldly assenteth, but with such an after-
clause of exception as doth more than mar his former allowance ;
and if he list not to give a verbal disgrace, yet he shakes his head
and smiles, as if his silence should say, " I could, and will not."
And when himself is praised without excess, he complains that
such imperfect kindness hath not done him right. If but an un
seasonable shower cross his recreation, be is ready to fall out with
Heaven ; and thinks he is wronged if God will not take his times,
when to rain, when to shine. He is a slave to envy, and loseth
flesh with fretting, not so much at his own infelicity as at others'
good ; neither hath he leisure to joy in his own blessings, whilst
another prospereth. Fain would he see some mutinies, but dares
not raise them, and suffers his lawless tongue to walk through the
dangerous paths of conceited alterations ; but so, as, in good manners,
he had rather thrust every man before him when it comes to
acting. Nothing but fear keeps him from conspiracies, and no
man is more cruel when he is not manacled with danger. He
speaks nothing but satires and libels, and lodgeth no guests in his
heart but rebels. The inconstant and he agree well in their felicity,
which both place in change ; but herein they differ, the inconstant
man affects that which will be, the malecontent commonly that
which was. Finally, he is a querulous cur, wjbom no horse can
pass by without barking at ; yea, in the deep silence of night, the
very moonshine openeth his clamorous mouth ; he is the wheel of

Book II.] Characters of Vices. 113
a well couched firework, that flies out on all sides, not without
scorching itself. Every ear was long ago weary of him, and he is
now almost weary of himself : give him but a little respite, and he
will die alone ; of no other death than others' welfare.
The unconstant.
The inconstant man treads upon a moving earth, and keeps no
pace. His proceedings are ever heady and peremptory : for he
hath not the patience to consult with reason, but determines merely
upon fancy. No man is so hot in the pursuit of what he liketh,
no man sooner weary. He is fiery in his passions, which yet are
not more violent than momentary : it is a wonder if his love or
hatred last so many days as a wonder. His heart is the inn of all
good motions ; wherein if they lodge for a night, it is well : by
morning they are gone, and take no leave ; and if they come that
way again, they are entertained as guests, not as friends. At first,
like another Ecebolius, he loved simple truth : thence diverting
his eyes, he fell in love with idolatry ; those heathenish shrines
had never any more doting and besotted client ; and now of late
he is leaped from Rome to Munster, and is grown to giddy ana-
baptism. What he will be next, as yet he knoweth not ; but ere
he have wintered his opinion, it will be manifest. He is good to
make an enemy of; ill, for a friend: because, as there is no trust
in his affection, so no rancour in his displeasure. The multitude
of his changed purposes brings with it forgetfulness ; and not of
others more than of himself. He says, swears, renounces ; because,
• what he promised, he meant not long enough to make an impres
sion. Herein alone he is good for a commonwealth, that he sets
many on work, with building, ruining, altering ; and makes more
business than time itself : neither is he a greater enemy to thrift
than to idleness. Propriety is to him enough cause of dislike ;
each thing pleases him better that is not his own. Even in the
best things long continuance is a just quarrel : manna itself grows
tedious with age ; and novelty is the highest style of commenda
tion to the meanest offers : neither doth he in books and fashions
ask, " How good ?" but, " How new 1" Variety carries him away
with delight ; and no uniform pleasure can be without an irksome
fulness. He is so transformable into all opinions, manners, quali
ties, that he seems rather made immediately of the first matter,
than of well tempered elements ; and therefore is, in possibility,
any thing or every thing ; nothing, in present substance. Finally,
HP. hall, vol. VI. I

1 1 4 Practical Works.
he is servile, in imitation ; waxy, to persuasions ; witty, to wrong
himself; a guest, in his own house; an ape of others ; and, in a
word, any thing rather than himself.
The flatterer.
Flattery is nothing but false friendship, fawning hypocrisy,
dishonest civility, base merchandise of words, a plausible discord
of the heart and lips. The flatterer is blear-eyed to ill, and
cannot see vices ; and his tongue walks ever in one track of
unjust praises, and can no more tell how to discommend than to
speak true. His speeches are full of wondering interjections, and
all his titles are superlative ; and both of them seldom ever but
in presence. His base mind is well matched with a mercenary
tongue, which is a willing slave to another man's ear ; neither
regardeth he how true, but how pleasing. His art is nothing
but delightful cozenage ; whose rules are smoothing and guarded
with perjury; whose scope is, to make men fools in teaching
them to overvalue themselves, and to tickle his friends to death.
This man is a porter of all good tales, and mends them in the
carriage ; one of fame's best friends, and his own ; that helps to
furnish her with those rumours that may advantage himself.
Conscience hath no greater adversary ; for when she is about to
play her just part of accusation, he stops her mouth with good
terms : and well-near strangleth her with shifts. Like that subtle
fish, he turns himself into the colour of every stone for a booty.
In himself he is nothing, but what pleaseth his great one; whose
virtues he cannot more extol than imitate his imperfections, that
he may think his worst graceful : let him say it is hot, he wipes
his forehead, and unbraceth himself ; if cold, he shivers, and calls
for a warmer garment. When he walks with his friend, he
swears to him that no man else is looked at ; no man talked of ;
and that, whomsoever he vouchsafes to look on and nod to is
graced enough : that he knows not his own worth, lest he should
be too happy ; and when he tells what others say in his praise,
he interrupts himself mpdestly, and dares not speak the rest : so
his concealment is more insinuating than his speech. He hangs
upon the hps which he admireth, as if they could let fall nothmg
but oracles ; and finds occasion to cite some approved sentence,
under the name he honoureth ; and when aught is nobly spoken,
both his hands are little enough to bless him. Sometimes, even in
absence, he extolleth his patron, where he may presume of safe

Book II.] Characters of Vices. 115
conveyance to his ears ; and in presence so whispereth his com
mendation to a common friend, that it may not be unheard where
he meant it. He hath salves for every sore, to hide them, not to
heal them ; complexion for every face. Sin hath not any more
artificial broker, or more impudent bawd. There is. no vice that
hath not from him his colour, his allurement ; and his best ser
vice is either to further guiltiness or smother it. If he grant
evil things inexpedient, or crimes errors, he hath yielded much:
either thy estate gives privilege of liberty, or thy youth ; or if
neither, " What if it be ill, yet it is pleasant !" honesty to him is
nice singularity; repentance, superstitious melancholy; gravity,
dulness; and all virtue, an innocent conceit of the base-minded.
In short, he is the moth of liberal men's coats ; the earwig of the
mighty ; the bane of courts ; a friend and a slave to the trencher;
and good for nothing but to be a factor for the devil.
Tlie slothful.
He is a religious man, and wears the time in his cloister ; and,
as the cloak of his doing nothing, pleads contemplation : yet is
he no whit the leaner for his thoughts ; no whit learneder. He
takes no less care how to spend time, than others how to gain
by the expense ; and when business importunes him, is more
troubled to forethink what he must do, than another to effect it.
Summer is out of his favour for nothing but long days, that make
no haste to their even. He loves still to have the sun witness of
his rising ; and lies long, more for loathness to dress him than
will to sleep : and after some stretching and yawning, calls for
dinner unwashed ; which having digested with a sleep in his
chair, he walks forth to the bench in the market-place, and
looks for companions : whomsoever he meets, he stays with idle
questions and lingering discourse : how the days are lengthened ;
how kindly the weather is ; how false the clock ; how forward
the spring ; and ends ever with, " What shall we do ?" It pleases
him no less to hinder others, than not to work himself. When
all the people are gone from church, he is left sleeping in his seat
alone. He enters bonds, and forfeits them by forgetting the day ;
and asks his neighbour when his own field was fallowed, whether
the next piece of ground belong not to himself. His care is either
none, or too late ; when winter is come, after some sharp visita
tions, he looks on his pile of wood, and asks how much was crop
ped the last spring. Necessity drives him to every action ; and
i 2

116 Practical Works.
what he cannot avoid he will yet defer. Every change troubles
hira, although to the better ; and his dulness counterfeits a kind
of contentment. When he is warned on a jury, he had rather
pay the mulct than appear. All but that which nature will not
permit, he doth by a deputy : and counts it troublesome to do
nothing ; but, to do any thing, yet more. He is witty in nothing
but framing excuses to sit still ; which, if the occasion yield not,
he coineth with ease. There is no work that is not either danger
ous or thankless ; and whereof he foresees not the inconvenience
and gainlessness before he enters : which if it be verified in
event, his next idleness hath found a reason to patronise it. He
had rather freeze than fetch wood ; and chooses rather to steal
than work ; to beg, than take pains to steal ; and, in many things,
to want, than beg. He is so loath to leave his neighbour's fire,
that he is fain to walk home in the dark ; and if he be not looked
to, wears out the night in the chimney corner ; or if not that,
lies down in his clothes to save two labours. He eats and prays
himself asleep ; and dreams of no other torment but work. This
man is a standing pool ; and cannot choose but gather corruption :
he is descried amongst a thousand neighbours by a dry and nasty
hand, that still savours of the sheet ; a beard uncut, unkembed ;
an eye and ear yellow with their excretions ; a coat, shaken on,
ragged, unbrushed ; by linen and face striving whether shall excel
in uncleanness. For body, he hath a swollen leg, a dusky and
swinish eye, a blown cheek, a drawling tongue, a heavy foot, and
is nothing but a colder earth moulded with standing water ; to
conclude, is a man in nothing but in speech and shape.
The covetous.
He is a servant to himself ; yea, to his servant : and doth base
homage to that which should be the worst drudge. A lifeless
piece of earth is his master ; yea, his god : which he shrines in
his coffer, and to which he sacrifices his heart. Every face of his
coin is a new image, which he adores with the highest venera
tion ; yet takes upon him to be protector of that he worship
peth : which he fears to keep, and abhors to lose ; not daring to
trust either any other god or his own. Like a true chemist, he
turns every thing into silver ; both what he should eat, and what
he should wear : and that he keeps to look on, not to use. When
he returns from his field, he asks, not without much rage, what
became of the loose orust in his cupboard, and who hath rioted

Book IL] Characters of Vices. 117
amongst his leeks. He never eats good meal, but on his neigh
bour's trencher ; and there he makes amends to his complaining
stomach for his former and future fasts. He bids his neighbours
to dinner, and when they have done, sends in a trencher for the
shot. Once in a year, perhaps, he gives himself leave to feast ;
and, for the time, thinks no man more lavish : wherein he lists
not to fetch his dishes from far ; nor will be beholden to the
shambles : his own provision shall furnish his board with an in
sensible cost ; and when his guests are parted, talks how much
every man devoured, and how many cups were emptied; and
feeds his family with the mouldy remnants a month after. If his
servant break but an earthen dish for want of light, he abates it
out of his quarter's wages. He chips his bread, and sends it
back to exchange for staler. He lets money, and sells time for
a price ; and will not be importuned, either to prevent or defer
his day ; and in the mean time looks for secret gratuities, besides
the main interest, which he sells and returns into the stock. He
breeds of money to the third generation ; neither hath it sooner
any being than he sets it to beget more.- In all things he affects
secresy and propriety : he grudgeth his neighbour the water of
his well ; and, next to stealing, he hates borrowing. In his short
and unquiet sleeps, he dreams of thieves, and runs to the door,
and names more men than he hath. The least sheaf he ever culls
out for tithe ; and to rob God, holds it the best pastime, the
clearest gain. This man cries out, above other, of the prodi
gality of our times ; and tells of the thrift of our forefathers :
how that great prince thought himself royally attired when he
bestowed thirteen shillings and four pence on half a suit : how
one wedding gown served our grandmothers, till they exchanged
it for a winding sheet : and praises plainness, not for less sin, but
for less cost. For himself, he is still known by his forefathers'
coat ; which he means, with his blessing,, to bequeath to the
many descents of his heirs. He neither would be poor nor be
accounted rich. No man complains so much of want, to avoid a
subsidy : no man is so importunate in begging, so cruel in exaction :
and when he most complains of want, he fears that which he com
plains to have. No way is indirect to wealth, whether of fraud
or violence : gain is his godliness, which if conscience go about
to prejudice, and grow troublesome by exclaiming against, he is
condemned for a common barretor. Like another Ahab, he is
sick of the next field ; and thinks he is ill seated, while he dwells

118 Practical Works.
by neighbours. Shortly, his neighbours do not much more hate
him than he himself. He cares not, for no great advantage,
to lose his friend, pine his body, damn his soul : and would
despatch himself when corn falls, but that he is loath to castaway
money on a cord. The vainglorious.
All his humour rises up into the froth of ostentation, which, if
it once settle, falls clown into a narrow room. If the excess be
in the understanding part, all his wit is in print : the press hath
left his head empty ; yea, not only what he had, but what he
could borrow without leave. If his glory be in his devotion, he
gives not an alms but on record ; and if he have once done well,
God hears of it often ; for upon every unkindness he is ready to
upbraid him with his merits. Over and above his own discharge,
he hath some satisfactions to spare for the common treasure.
He can fulfil the law with ease, and earn God with superfluity.
If he have bestowed but a little sum in the glazing, paving, pa-
rieting of God's house, you shall find it in the church window.
Or if a more gallant humour possess him, he wears all his land
on his back ; and, walking high, looks over his left shoulder to
see if the point of his rapier follow him with a grace. He is
proud of another man's horse ; and, well-mounted, thinks every
man wrongs him that looks not at him. A bare head in the
street doth him more good than a meal's meat. He swears big
at an ordinary ; and talks of the court with a sharp accent :
neither vouchsafes to name any not honourable, nor those without
some term of familiarity; and likes well to see the hearer look
upon him amazedly, as if he said, " How happy is this man, that
is so great with great ones!" Under pretence of seeking for a
scroll of news, he draws out a handful of letters, indorsed with
his own style to the height, half reading every title, passes over
the latter part with a murmur; not without signifying what
lord sent this, what great lady the other, and for what suits : the
last paper, as it happens, is his news from his honourable friend
in the French court. In the midst of dinner, his lackey comes
sweating in with a sealed note from his creditor, who now threatens
a speedy arrest ; and whispers the ill news in his master's ear :
when he aloud names a counsellor of state, and professes to know
the employment. The same messenger he calls with an imperious
nod ; and after expostulation, where he hath left his fellows, in
his ear sends him for some new spur-leathers, or stockings by

Book II.] Characters qf Vices. 119
this time footed ; and when he is gone half the room, recalls him,
and saith aloud, " It is no matter ; let the greater bag alone till I
come:" and yet again calling him closer, whispers, so that all
the table may hear, that if his crimson suit be ready against the
day, the rest need no haste. He picks his teeth when his stomach
is empty, and calls for pheasants at a common inn. You- shall
find him prizing the richest jewels and fairest horses, when his
purse yields not money enough for earnest. He thrusts himself
into the prease before some great ladies ; and loves to be seen
hear the head of a great train. His talk is, how many mourners
he furnished with gowns at his father's funerals, how many messes ;
how rich his coat is, and how ancient ; how great his alliance ;
what challenges he hath made and answered ; what exploits he
did at Calais or Nieuport; and when he hath commended others'
buildings, furnitures, suits, compares them with his own. When
he hath undertaken to be the broker for some rich diamond, he
wears it ; and pulling off his glove, to stroke up his hair, thinks
no eye should have any other object. Entertaining his friend, he
chides his cook for no better cheer ; and names the dishes he
meant, and wants. To conclude, he is ever on the stage, and acts
a still glorious part abroad ; when no man carries a baser heart,
no man is more sordid and careless, at home. He is a Spanish
soldier on an Italian theatre ; a bladder full of wind, a skin full
of words ; a fool's wonder, and a wise man's fool.
The presumptuous.
Presumption is nothing but hope out of his wits ; a high house^
upon weak pillars. The presumptuous man loves to attempt
great things, only because they are hard and rare ; his actions
are bold and venturous, and more full of hazard than use. He
hoisteth sail in a tempest, and saith, never any of his ancestors
were drowned : he goes into an infected house, and says the
plague dares not seize on noble blood : he runs on high battle
ments, gallops down steep hills, rides over narrow bridges, walks
on weak ice, and never thinks, " What if I fall?" but, " What if
I run over, and fall not?" He is a confident alchymist; and
braggeth that the womb of his furnace hath conceived a burden
that will do all the world good: which yet he desires secretly
born, for fear of his own bondage : in the mean time, Iris glass
breaks; yet he, upon better luting, lays wagers of the success,
and promiseth wedges beforehand to his friend. He saith, " I

120 Practical Works.
will sin, and be sorry, and escape : either God will not see, or
not be angry, or not punish it, or remit the measure : if I do
well, he is just to reward ; if ill, he is merciful to forgive." Thus
his praises wrong God, no less than his offence ; and hurt him
self, no less than they wrong God. Any pattern is enough to
encourage him : show him the way where any foot hath trod,
he dare follow, although he see no steps returning : what if a
thousand have attempted, and miscarried ; if but one have pre
vailed, it sufficeth. He suggests to himself false hopes of never
too late ; as if he could command either time or repentance : and
dare defer the expectation of mercy till betwixt the bridge and
the water. Give him but where to set his foot, and he will re
move the earth. He foreknows the mutations of states, the
events of war, the temper of the seasons : either his old prophecy
tells it him, or his stars. Yea, he is no stranger to the records of
God's secret counsel ; but he turns them over, and copies them
out at pleasure. I know not whether, in all his enterprises, he
show less fear or wisdom : no man promises himself more, no man
more believes himself. " I will go, and sell ; and return, and
purchase ; and spend, and leave my sons such estates :" all which
if it succeed, he thanks himself; if not, he blames not himself.
His purposes are measured, not by his ability, but his will ; and
his actions by his purposes. Lastly, he is ever credulous in as
sent ; rash in undertaking ; peremptory in resolving ; witless in
proceeding ; and in his ending, miserable ; which is never other,
than either the laughter of the wise or the pity of fools.
The distrustful.
The distrustful man hath his heart in his eyes or in his hand ;
nothing is sure to him but what he sees, what he handles. He
is either very simple or very false; and therefore believes not
others, because he knows how little himself is worthy of belief.
In spiritual things, either God must leave a pawn with him, or
seek some other creditor. All absent things, and unusual, have
no other but a conditional entertainment: they are strange, if
true. If he see two neighbours whisper in his presence, he bids
them speak out; and charges them to say no more than they
can justify. When he hath committed a message to his servant,
he sends a second after him, to listen how it is delivered. He is
his own secretary, and of his own counsel, for what he hath,
for what he purposeth ; and when he tells over his bags looks

Book IL] Characters of Vices. 121
through the keyhole, to see if he have any hidden witness, and
asks aloud, "Who is there ?" when no man hears him. He bor
rows money when he needs not, for fear lest others should borrow
of him. He is ever timorous and cowardly, and asks every man's
errand at the door ere he opens. After his first sleep, he starts
up, and asks if the farthest gate were barred ; and, out of a fear- '
ful sweat, calls up his servant, and bolts the door after him ; and
then studies, whether it were better to lie still and believe, or
rise and see. Neither is his heart fuller of fears, than his head
of strange projects and farfetched constructions : " What means
the state, think you, in such an action ; and whither tends this
course ? Learn of me, if you know not : the ways of deep policies
are secret, and full of unknown windings : that is their act ; this
will be their issue :" so casting beyond the moon, he makes wise
and just proceedings suspected. In all his predictions and imagina
tions, he ever lights upon the worst : not what is most likely will
fall out, but what is most ill. There is nothing that he takes not
with the left hand ; no text which his gloss corrupts not. Words,
oaths, parchments, seals, are but broken reeds : these shall never
deceive him : he loves no payments but real. If but one in an
age have miscarried, by a rare casualty, he misdoubts the same
event. If but a tile fallen from a high roof have brained a pas
senger, or the breaking of a coach wheel have endangered the
burden ; he swears he will keep home, or take him to his horse.
He dares not come to church, for fear of the crowd ; nor spare
the sabbath's labour, for fear of want ; nor come near the par
liament house, because it should have been blown up : what might
have been affects him as much as what will be. Argue, vow,
protest, swear ; he hears thee, and believes himself. He is a
sceptic ; and dare hardly give credit to his senses, which he hath
often arraigned of false intelligence. He so lives, as if he thought
all the world were thieves, and were not sure whether himself
were one. He is uncharitable in his censures ; unquiet in his
fears : bad enough always ; but, in his own opinion, much worse
than he is. The ambitious.
Ambition is a proud covetousness ; a dry thirst of honour ; the
longing disease of reason ; an aspiring and gallant madness. The
ambitious climbs up high and perilous stairs, and never cares how
to come down : the desire of rising hath swallowed up his fear of
a fall. Having once cleaved, like a burr, to some great man's coat,

122 Practical Works.
he resolves not to be shaken off with any small indignities ; and
finding his hold thoroughly fast, casts how to insinuate yet nearer :
and therefore he is busy and servile in his endeavours to please,
and all his officious respect turns home to himself. He can be at
once a slave, to command ; an intelligencer, to jnform ; a parasite,
to soothe and flatter ; a champion to defend ; an executioner, to
revenge : any thing for an advantage of favour. He hath pro
jected a plot to risej and woe be to the friend that stands in his
way. He still haunteth the court, and his unquiet spirit haunteth
him ; which, having fetched him from the secure peace of his
country rest, sets him new and impossible tasks ; and, after many
disappointments, encourages him to try the same sea in spite of
his shipwrecks, and promises better success : a small hope gives
him heart against great difficulties, and draws on new expense,
new servility ; persuading him, like foolish boys, to shoot away a
second shaft, that he may find the first : he yieldeth ; and now,
secure of the issue, applauds himself in that honour which he still
affecteth, still misseth ; and, for the last of all trials, will rather
bribe for a troublesome preferment than return void of a title :
but now, when he finds himself desperately crossed, and at once
spoiled both of advancement andhope, both of fruition and possibility,
all his desire is turned into rage ; his thirst is now only of revenge ;
his tongue sounds of nothing but detraction and slander : now,
the place he sought for is base, his rival unworthy, his adversary
injurious, officers corrupt, court infectious ; and how well is he,
that may be his own man, his own master ; that may live safely
in a mean distance at pleasure, free from starving, free from
burning ! but if his designs speed well, ere he be warm in that
seat, his mind is possessed of an higher : what he hath, is but a
degree to what he would have : now, he scorneth what he formerly
aspired to ; his success doth not give him so much contentment
as provocation ; neither can he be at rest, so long as he hath one
either to overlook, or to match, or to emulate him. When his
country friend comes to visit him, he carries him up to the awful
presence : and now, in his sight, crowding nearer to the chair of
state, desires to be looked on, desires to be spoken to by the
greatest; and studies how to offer an occasion, lest he should
seem unknown, unregarded ; and if any gesture of the least grace
fall happily upon him, he looks back upon his friend, lest he
should carelessly let it pass without a note : and what he wanteth
in sense he supphes in history. His disposition is never but

Book II.] Characters of Vices. 123
shamefully unthankful ; for unless he have all, he hath nothing.
It must be a large draught whereof he will not say, that those
few drops do not slake, but inflame him_: so still he thinks himself
the worse for small favours. His wit so contrives the likely plots
of his promotion, as if he would steal it away without God's know
ledge, besides his will : neither doth he' ever look up and consult
in his forecasts with the Supreme Moderator of all things ; as one
that thinks honour is ruled by fortune, and that Heaven meddleth
not with the disposing of these earthly lots : and therefore it is
just with that wise God to defeat his fairest hopes, and to bring
him to a loss in the hottest of his chase ; and to cause honour to
fly away so much the faster, by how much it is more eagerly pur
sued. Finally, he is an importunate suitor ; a corrupt client ; a
violent undertaker ; a smooth factor, but untrusty ; a restless master
of his own ; a bladder puffed up with the wind of hope and self-
love : he is in the common body as a mole in the earth, ever un-
quietly casting ; and, in one word, is nothing but a confused heap
of envy, pride, covetousness. The unthrift.
He ranges beyond his pale, and lives without compass. His ex
pense is measured, not by ability, but will. His pleasures are
immoderate, and not honest. A wanton eye, a liquorish tongue,
a gamesome hand have impoverished him. The vulgar sort call
him bountiful ; and applaud him while he spends ; and recompense
him with wishes when he gives, with pity when he wants : neither
can it be denied that he wrought true liberality, but overwent it :
no man could have lived more laudably, if, when he was at the
best, he had stayed there. While he is present, none of the
wealthier guests may pay aught to the shot, without much ve
hemency, without danger of unkindness. Use hath made it un
pleasant to him not to spend. He is in all things more ambitious
of the title of good-fellowship than of wisdom. When he looks
into the wealthy chest of his father, his conceit suggests that it
cannot be emptied ; and while he takes out some deal every day,
he perceives not any diminution ; and when the heap is sensibly
abated, yet still flatters himself with enough : one hand cozens the
other, and the belly deceives both. He doth not so much bestow
benefits, as scatter them : true merit doth not carry them, but
smoothness of adulation. His senses are too much his guides and
his purveyors; and appetite is his steward. He is an impotent

124 Practical Works.
servant to his lusts, and knows not to govern either his mind or
his purse. Improvidence is ever the companion of unthriftiness.
This man cannot look beyond the present; and neither thinks
nor cares what shall be ; much less suspects what may be : and,
while he lavishes out his substance iu superfluities, thinks he only
knows what the world is worth, and that others overprize it. He
feels poverty before he sees it; never complains till he be
pinched with wants ; never spares till the bottom, when it is too
late either to spend or recover. He is every man's friend save
his own ; and then wrongs himself most, when he courteth himself
with most kindness. He vies time with the slothful ; and it is an
hard match, whether chases away good hours to worse purpose :
the one, by doing nothing ; the other, by idle pastime. He hath
so dilated himself with the beams of prosperity, that he lies open
to all dangers ; and cannot gather up himself, on just warning, to
avoid a mischief. He were good for an almoner, ill for a steward.
Finally, he is the living tomb of his forefathers, of his posterity ;
and when he hath swallowed both, is more empty than before he
devoured them. The envious.
He feeds on others' evils, and hath no disease but his neigh
bours' welfare : whatsoever God do for him, he cannot be happy
with company ; and if he were put to choose whether he would
rather have equals in a common felicity, or superiors in misery,
he would demur upon the election. His eye casts out too much,
and never returns home but to make comparisons with another's
good. He is an ill prizer of foreign commodity ; worse, of his
own : for that he rates too high ; this, under value. You
shall have him ever inquiring into the estates of his equals and
betters ; wherein he is not more desirous to hear all, than loath to
hear any thing over good : and if just report relate aught better
than he would, he redoubles the question, as being hard to beheve
what he likes not ; and hopes yet, if that be averred again to his
grief, that there is somewhat concealed in the relation, which if it
were known would argue the commended party miserable, and
blemish him with secret shame. He is ready to quarrel with God,
because the next field is fairer grown ; and angrily calculates his
cost and time and tillage. Whom he dares not openly backbite,
nor wound with a direct censure, he strikes smoothly, with an
overcold praise : and when he sees that he must either maliciously
oppugn the just praise of another (which were unsafe), or approve

Book II.] Characters of Vices. 125
it by assent, he yieldeth ; but shows withal, that his means were
such, both by nature and education, that he could not, without
much neglect, be less commendable : so his happiness shall be
made the colour of detraction. When an wholesome law is pro
pounded, he crosseth it, either by open or close opposition ; not
for any incommodity or inexpedience, but because it proceeded
from any mouth besides his own : and it must be a cause rarely
plausible that will not admit some probable contradiction. When
his equal should rise to honour, he strives against it, unseen ; and
rather, with much cost, suborneth great adversaries : and when
he sees his resistance vain, he can give an hollow gratulation in
presence ; but in secret disparages that advancement : either the
man is unfit for the place, or the place for the man ; or if fit, yet
less gainful, or more common than opinion : whereto he adds, that
himself might have had the same dignity upon better terms, and
refused it. He is witty in devising suggestions to bring his rival,
out of love, into suspicion : if he be courteous, he is seditiously
popular; if bountiful, he binds over his clients to a faction ; if suc
cessful in war, he is dangerous in peace ; if wealthy, he lays up
for a day ; if powerful, nothing wants but opportunity of rebellion :
his submission is ambitious hypocrisy ; his religion, politic insinu
ation: no action is safe from a jealous construction. When he re
ceives an ill report of him whom he emulates, he saith, " Fame is
partial, and is wont to blanch mischiefs ;" and pleaseth himself
with hope to find it worse : and if ill-will have dispersed any more
spiteful narration, he lays hold on that, against all witnesses ; and
broacheth that rumour for truest, because worst : and when he sees
him perfectly miserable, he can at once pity him and rejoice.
What himself cannot do, others shall not : he hath gained well, if
he have hindered the success of what he would have done, and
could not. He conceals his best skill, not so as it may not be known
that he knows it, but so as it may not be learned ; because he
would have the world miss him. He attained to a sovereign me
dicine by the secret legacy of a dying empiric ; whereof he will
leave no heir, lest the praise should be divided. Finally, he is an
enemy to God's favours, if they fall beside himself; the best nurse
of ill fame ; a man of the worst diet, for he consumes himself, and
delights in pining ; a thorn hedge, covered with nettles ; a peevish
interpreter of good things ; and no other than a lean and pale
carcass quickened with a fiend.

126

EPISTLES,
IN SIX DECADES.
THE EIEST VOLUME.

BY JOSEPH HALL.

to the
HIGH AND MIGHTY PEINCE, HENRY,
PRINCE OF GREAT BRITAIN, SON AND HEIR APPARENT TO OUR
SOVEREIGN LORD, JAMES, KING OF GREAT BRITAIN, &C.
ALL GLORY IN EITHER WORLD.

Most Gracious Prince, — It is not from any conceit of such worth in my
labours that they durst look so high. A lower patronage would have served
an higher work. It were well, if aught of mine could be worthy of popular
eyes; or if I could wring aught from myself not unworthy of a judicious
reader. I know your highness wants neither presents nor counsels : pre
sents from strangers, counsels from your teachers ; neither of them matchable
by my weakness : only duty herein excuses me from presumption. For I
thought it injustice to devote the fruit of my labour to any other hand beside
my master's ; which also I knew to be as gracious as mine is faithful.
Yet, since even good affections cannot warrant too much vileness in gifts
to princes, lest, while my modesty disparages my work, I should hazard the
acceptation ; here shall your grace find variety, not without profit. I hate
a divine that would but please ; and, withal, think it impossible for a man
to profit that pleaseth not. And if, while my style fixeth itself upon others,
any spiritual profit shall reflect upon your highness, how happy am I ; who
shall ever think I have lived to purpose, if, by the best of my studies, I shall
have done any good office to your soul ! Further, which these times account
not the least praise, your grace shall herein perceive a new fashion of dis
course, by epistles ; new to our language, usual to others ; and, as novelty is
never without some plea of use, more free, more familiar. Thus, we do but

127
talk with our friends by our pen, and express ourselves no whit less easily;
somewhat more digestedly.
Whatsoever it is, as it cannot be good enough to deserve that counte
nance; so, the countenance of such patronage shall make it worthy of re
spect from others. The God of princes protect your person, perfect your
graces, and give you as much favour in heaven as you have honour on
earth. Your Highness' humbly devoted servant,
JOS. HALL.

THE TABLE.
DECADE I.
Epistle I. — To Jacob Wadsworth, lately revolted, in Spain : Expostulating for his
departure, and persuading his return.
II. — To my lord and patron, the Lokd Denny, baron of Waltham : Of the con
tempt of the world.
III. — To my Lord Hat, H. and P. : Of true honour.
IV. — To Mr. Newton, tutor to the prince : Of gratulation, for the hopes of our
prince ; with an advising apprecation.
V. — To Sir Tho. Challoner : A report of some observations in my travel.
VI. — To Sir David Murray : Concerning the miracles of owr time.
VII. — To Mr. William. Bedell, at Venice : Lamenting the death of our late
divines, and inciting to their imitation.
VIII. — To my lord, the Earl oe Essex : Advice for his travels.
IX. — To Sir Robert Drury and his Lady : Concerning my removal from them.
X. — Written to Mr. J. B., and dedicated to my father, Mr. J. Hall ; Against
the fear of death.
DECADE II.
I. — To Sir Robert Daroy : The estate of a true, but weak Christian.
'II. — To Sir Edmund Baoon : The benefit of retiredness and secresy.
III. — To Mr. John Whiting : An apologetical discourse, of the marriage of eccle
siastical persons.
IV. — To my sister, Mrs. B. Brinsly : Of the sorrow not to be repented of.
V. — To Mr. Hugh Cholmley : Concerning tlie metaphrase of the Psalms.
VI. — To Mr. Samuel Sotheby : A preface to his relation of the Russian affairs.
VII. — To Stanislaus Buchinski, late secretary to Demetrius, emperor of
Russia : Ofthe comfort of imprisonment.
VIII. — To my father-in-law, Mr. George Wenyefe : Exciting to Christian cheer
fulness.
IX. — To Mr. W. R., dedicated to Mr. Thomas Burlz : Consolations of immo
derate grief for the death of friends.
X. — To Mr. I. A. Merchant : Against sorrow for worldly losses.

128 Prractical Works. [Decade I.

THE FIRST DECADE.

TO JACOB WADSWOKTTfa;
lately revolted, in Spain.

Epistle I. — Expostulating for his departure, and
persuading his return.
How unhappily is my style changed ! Alas, that to a friend,
to a brother, I must write as to an apostate, to an adversary !
Doth this seem harsh ? you have turned it, by being turned,
yourself. Once, the same walls held us, in one loving society ;
the same diocese, in one honourable function : now, not one land ;
and, which I lament, not one Church.
You are gone : we stand and wonder. For a sheep to stray
through simplicity, is both ordinary and lamentable ; but, for
a shepherd, is more rare, more scandalous.
I dare not presume over much upon an appeal to a blinded
conscience. Those that are newly come from a bright candle
into a dark room are so much more blind as their light was
greater ; and the purest ivory turneth, with fire, into the
deepest black.
Tell us yet, by your old ingenuity, and by those sparks of
good, which yet, I hope, lie covered under your cold ashes ; tell
us, what divided you 1 Your motives shall once be scanned
before a higher bar : shame not to have the weak eyes of the
world see that which once your undeceivable Judge shall see
and censure. What saw you, what heard you anew, that might
offer violence to a resolved mind, and make it either to alter
or suspend 1 If your reasons be invincible, inform us, that we
may follow you ; but if, as they are, slight and feeble, return
you to us : return, and think it no shame to have erred ; just
a [James Wadsworth, for so he is in- folk. Being afterwards sent into Spain
variably named in the Life and Gorre- as English tutor to the Infanta when
spondence of Bishop Bedell, (Lond. the match between Charles I. and that
1685,) had been fellow student with the princess was considered to be concluded,
latter at Emmanuel College, Cambridge, he was prevailed on to change his reli-
and was subsequently beneficed in Suf- gion and abandon his country.]

Epist. I.] Practical Works. 129
shame, to continue erring. What such goodly beauty saw you
in that painted, but ill-favoured strumpet, that should thus
bewitch you so to forget yourself, and contemn the chaste love
of the spouse of your Saviour? I saw her, at the same time,
in her gayest dress: let my soul never prosper, if I could see
any thing worthy to command affection. I saw, and scorned;
you saw, and adored. Would God your adoration were as far
from superstition as my scorn from impiety ! That God judge
betwixt us, whether herein erred ; -yea, let men judge, that are
not drunk with these Babylonish dregs.
How long might an indifferent eye look upon the comical and
mimic actions in those your mysteries that should be sacred ;
your magical exorcisms ; your clerical shavings ; your uncleanly
unctions ; your crossings, creepings, censings, sprinklings ; your
cozening miracles, garish processions, burning of noonday,
christening of bells, marting of pardons, tossing of beads ; your
superstitious hallowing of candles, wax, ashes, palms, chrism,
garments, roses, swords, water, salt ; the pontifical solemnities of
your great master ; and whatever your new mother hath, besides,
plausible; before he should see aught, in all these, worthy of
any other entertainment than contempt ! Who can but disdain,
that these things should procure any wise proselyte 1
Cannot your own memory recount those truly religious spirits,
which, having sought Rome as resolved papists, have left the
world as holy martyrs ; dying, for the detestation of that which
they came to adore 1 Whence this 1 They heard, and magnified
that; which they now saw, and abhorred. Their fire of zeal
brought them to the flames of martyrdom. Their innocent hopes
promised them religion ; they found nothing but a pretence : pro
mised devotion ; and, behold idolatry. They saw, hated, suffered,
and now reign : while you wilfully, and unbidden, will lose your
soul, where others meant to lose, and have found it. Your zeal
dies where theirs began to live ; you like to hve where they
would but die. They shall comfort us, for you : they shall once
stand up, against you. While they would rather die in the heat
of that fire, than live in the darkness of their errors; you
rather die in the Egyptian darkness of errors, than live in the
pleasant light of truth ; yea, I fear, rather in another fire, than
this light.
Alas ! what shall we look for of you ? too late repentance,
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. K

130 Practical Works. [Decade I.
or obstinate error ? both miserable : a Spira b, or a Staphylus e 1
Your friends, yourself, shall wish you rather unborn than either.
0 thou, which art the great Shepherd, great in power, great
in mercy, which leavest the ninety and nine to reduce one,
fetch home, if thy will be, this thy forlorn charge : fetch him
home, drive him home to thy fold; though by shame, though
by death : let him once recover thy Church, thou him ; it is
enough. Our common mother I know not whether more pities your
loss or disdains thus to be robbed of a son : not for the need
of you ; but her own piety, her own love : for, how many troops
of better informed souls hath she every day returning into her
lap ; now breathing from their late antichristianism, and em
bracing her knees upon their own ! She laments you ; not for
that she fears she shall miss you, but for that she knows you
shall want her. See you her tears, and do but pity yourself as
much as she you.
And, from your mother to descend to your nurse d; is this the
fruit of such education ? Was not your youth spent in a society
of such comely order, strict government, wise laws, religious care
(it was ours : yet, let me praise it, to your shame), as may justly
challenge, after all brags, either Bhemes or Doway ; or if your
Jesuits have any other den, more cleanly, and more worthy of
ostentation. And could you come out fresh and unseasoned from
the midst of those salt waves ? Could all those heavenly showers
fall beside you, while you, like a Gideon's fleece, want moisture 1
Shall none of those divine principles, which your youth seemed to
drink in, check you in your new errors ?
Alas ! how unlike are you to yourself, to your name ! Jacob
wrestled with an angel, and prevailed ; you grapple but with a
Jesuit, and yield. Jacob supplanted his brother, an Esau hath
supplanted you. Jacob changed his name for a better by his
valiant resistance ; you, by your cowardly yielding, have lost your
own. Jacob strove with God for a blessing : I fear to say it, you

b [Franciscus Spira, or Spiera, an advo- " [Having beeu for many years a fol-
cate of eminence, born at Citadella near lower of Luther, he afterwards returned
Padua, died 1548. See Collier's Supple- to the Church of Rome. — Bp. Jewell
ment to Le Clerc's Morery. — See also calls him, "shameless renegade." See
Historise Er. Spirse desperationis breve Jewell's Works, Oxf. Ed. vol. iii. p. 291.
¦compendium a Ja. Brunsmann.] d [Emmanuel College, Cambridge.]

Epist. IL] Practical Works. 131
against him for a curse ; for, no common measure of hatred, nor
ordinary opposition, can serve a revolter : either you must be
desperately violent, or suspected.
The Mighty One of Israel, for he can do it, raise you, fallen ;
return you, wandered ; and give you grace at last to shame the
devil, to forsake your stepmother, to acknowledge your true
parent, to satisfy the world, to save your own soul. If other
wise ; I will say of you, as Jeremy of his Israelites, if not rather
with more indignation, My soul shall weep in secret for your
revolt ; and mine eyes shall drop down tears, because one qf the
Lord's flock is carried away captive.

TO MY LOED AND PATEON, THE LOED DENNY",
BARON OF WALTHAM.
Epistle II. — Ofthe contempt ofthe world.
My Lord, — My tongue, my pen, and my heart, are all your
servants. When you cannot hear me through distance, you
must see me in my letters.
You are now in the senate of the kingdom ; or in the con
course of the city ; or, perhaps, though more rarely, in the royal
face of the court : all of them places fit for your place. From
all these, let me call off your mind to her home above ; and, in
the midst of business, show you rest : if I may not rather com
mend than admonish ; and, beforehand, confess my counsel
superfluous, because your holy forwardness hath prevented it.
You can afford these but half of yourself: the better part is
better bestowed: your soul is still retired and reserved. You
have learned to vouchsafe these worldly things, use, without
affection : and know to distinguish wisely betwixt a stoical
dulness and a Christian contempt; and have long made the
world, not your god, but your slave.
And in truth, that I may loose myself into a bold and free dis
course, what other respect is it worthy of? I would adore it on
my face, if I could see any majesty that might command venera
tion. Perhaps it loves me not so much as to show me his best.
I have sought it enough ; and have seen what others have doted
on ; and wondered at their madness. So may I look to see better
e [See Contemplations, book hi.]
k2

132 Practical Works. Decade I.]
things above, as I never could see aught here but vanity and
vileness. What is fame, but smoke ? and metal, but dross ? and pleasure,
but a pill in sugar? Let some gallants condemn this as the
voice of a melancholic scholar ; I speak that which they shall
feel, and shall confess. Though I never was so, I have seen
some as happy as the world could make them ; and yet I never
saw any more discontented : their life hath been neither longer
nor sweeter, nor their heart lighter, nor their meals heartier,
nor their nights quieter, nor their cares fewer, nor their com
plaints. Yea, we have known some that have lost their mirth
when they have found wealth, and at once have ceased to be
merry and poor. All these earthly delights, if they were sound,
yet how short they are ! and if they could be long, yet how un
sound ! If they were sound, they are but as a good day between
two agues, or a sunshine betwixt two tempests ; and if they were
long, their honey is exceeded by their gall. This ground bears
none but maples, hollow and fruitless ; or, like the banks of the
dead sea, a fair apple, which under a red side contains nothing
but dust. Every flower in this garden either pricks or smells ill ;
if it be sweet, it hath thorns; and if it have no thorns, it annoys us
with an ill scent.
Go then, ye wise idolatrous parasites, and erect shrines, and
offer sacrifices to your god, the world, and seek to please him
with your base and servile devotions : it shall be long enough ere
such religion shall make you happy ; you shall at last forsake
those altars empty and sorrowful.
How easy is it for us Christians thus to insult over the world
ling, that thinks himself worthy of envy ! how easy to turn off
the world with a scornful repulse, and when it makes us the
devil's proffer, All these will I give thee, to return Peter's answer,
Thy silver and thy gold perish with thee ! how easy to account
none so miserable as those that are rich with injury, and grow
great by being conscious of secret evils ! Wealth and honour,
when it comes upon the best terms, is but vain, but when upon
ill conditions, burdensome ; when they are at the best they are
scarce friends, but when at the worst, tormentors. Alas ! how ill
agrees a gay coat and a festered heart ! what avails an high
title with an hell in the soul ? I admire the faith of Moses ; but,
presupposing his faith, I wonder not at his choice. He preferred
the afflictions of Israel to the pleasures of Egypt, and chose

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 133
rather to eat the lamb with so ur herbs than all their fleshpots ;
for how much better is it to be miserable than guilty ! and what
comparison is there betwixt sorrow and sin ? If it were possible,
let me be rather in hell without sin than on earth wickedly glo
rious. But how much are we bound to God, that allows us
earthly favours without this opposition ! That God hath made
you at once honourable and just, and your life pleasant and holy,
and hath given you an high state with a good heart, are favours
that look for thanks. These must be acknowledged, not rested
in : they are yet higher thoughts that must perfect your con
tentment. What God hath given you is, nothing to that he means to give ;
he hath been liberal, but he will be munificent: this is not so
much as the taste of a full cup. Fasten your eyes upon your
future glory, and see how meanly you shall esteem these earthly
graces : here, you command but a little pittance of mould, great
indeed to us, little to the whole ; there, whole heaven shall be
yours: here, you command, but as a subject; there, you shall
reign as a king : here, you are observed, but sometimes with your
just distaste ; there, you shall reign with peace and joy: here, you
are noble among men ; there, glorious amongst angels : here, you
want not honour, but you want not crosses ; there, is nothing but
felicity : here, you have some short joys ; there, is nothing but
eternity : you are a stranger here ; there, at home : here, Satan
tempts you, and men vex you ; there, saints and angels shall ap
plaud you, and God shall fill you with himself : in a word, you
are only blessed here for that you shall be.
These are thoughts worthy of greatness; which if we suffer
either employments or pleasures to thrust out of our doors, we do
wilfully make ourselves comfortless. Let these still season your
mirth and sweeten your sorrows, and ever interpose themselves
betwixt you and the world. These only can make your life happy,
and your death welcome.

TO MY LORD HAYf, H. and P.
Epistle III. — Of true honour.
My Lord, — It is safe to complain of nature where grace is,
and to magnify grace where it is at once had and affected. It is
[' See Contemplations, books iv. and xii.]

134 Practical Works. [Decade I.
a fault of nature, and not the least, that as she hath dim eyes, so
they are misplaced ; she looks still either forward or downward,
forward, to the object she desires, or downward, to the means ;
never turns her eyes, either backward, to see what she was, or
upward, to the cause of her good : whence it is just with God to
withhold what he would give, or to curse that which he bestows,
and to besot carnal minds with outward things, in their value, in
their desire, in their use. Whereas true wisdom hath clear eyes
and right set, and therefore sees an invisible hand in all sensible
events, effecting all things, directing all things to their due end ;
sees on whom to depend, whom to thank. Earth is too low and
too base to give bounds unto a spiritual sight. ISo man then can
truly know what belongs to wealth or honour but the gracious;
either how to compass them, or how to prize them, or how to use
them. I care not how many thousand ways there are to seeming honour
besides this of virtue : they all, if more, still lead to shame, or
what plots are devised to improve it ; if they were as deep as
hell, yet their end is loss. As there is no counsel against God, so
there is no honour without him. He inclines the hearts of princes
to favour, the hearts of inferiors to applause. Without him the
hand cannot move to success, nor the tongue to praise ; and what
is honour without these ? In vain doth the world frown upon the
man whom he means to honour, or smile where he would disgrace.
Let me then tell your lordship who are favourites in the court
of heaven even while they wander on earth ; yea, let the great
King himself tell you, Those that honour me, I will honour.
That men have the grace to give honour to God is an high
favour ; but because men give honour to God as their duty, that
therefore God should give honour to men, is to give because he
hath given. It is a favour of God that man is honoured of man
like himself, but that God allovveth of our endeavours as honour
to himself is a greater favour than that wherewith he requites it.
This is the goodness of our God ; the man that serves him honours
him, and whosoever honours him with his service is orowned with
honour. I challenge all times, places, persons : who ever honoured
God, and was neglected ? who hath wilfully dishonoured him, and
prospered? Turn over all records, and see how success ever
blessed the just, after many dangers, after many storms of re
sistance ; and left their conclusion glorious : how all godless plots,

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 135
in their loose, have at once deceived, shamed, punished their
author. I go no farther : your own breast knows that your happy
experience can herein justify God. The world hath noted you
for a follower of virtue ; and hath seen how fast honour followed
you : while you sought favour with the God of heaven, he hath
given you favour with his deputy on earth.
God's former actions are patterns of his future : he teaches
you what he will do by what he hath done. Unless your hand
be weary of offering service, he cannot either pull in his hand
from rewarding, or hold it out empty. Honour him still, and
God pawns his honour on not failing you. You cannot distrust
him whom your proof hath found faithful. And while you settle
your heart in this right course of true glory, laugh in secret
scorn at the idle endeavours of those men whose policies would
outreach God, and seize upon honour without his leave : God
laughs at them in heaven ; it is a safe and holy laughter that
follows his. And pity the preposterous courses of them which
make religion but a footstool to the seat of advancement ; which
care for all things but heaven ; which make the world their
standing mark, and do not so much as rove at God. Many had
sped well, if they had begun well, and proceeded orderly.
A false method is the bane of many hopeful endeavours. God
bids us seek first his kingdom, and earthly things shall find us
unsought. Foolish nature first seeks the world : and if she light
on God by the way, it is more than she expects, desires, cares
for ; and therefore fails of both, because she seeks neither aright.
Many had been great, if they had oared to be good : which now
are crossed in what they would, because they willed not what
they ought. If Solomon had made wealth his first suit, I doubt he
had been both poor and foolish : now, he asked wisdom, and gained
greatness : because he chose well, he received what he asked not.
0 the bounty and fidelity of our God ! because we would have
the best, he gives us all: earth shall wait upon us, because we
attend upon heaven.
Go on then, my lord, go on happily to love religion, to practise
it : let God alone with the rest. Be you a pattern of virtue ; he
shall make you a precedent of glory. Never man lost aught by
giving it to God : that liberal hand returns our gifts with advan
tage. Let men, let God see, that you honour him ; and they
shall hear him proclaim before you, Thus shall it be done to the
man whom the King will honour.

136 Practical Works. [Decade I.
TO MR. NEWTONk,
TUTOR TO THE PRINCE.
Epistle IV. — Of gratulation for the hopes of our prince, with
an advising apprecation.
Sir, — God hath called you to a great and happy charge : you
have the custody of our common treasure. Neither is there any
service comparable to this of yours : whether we regard God or
the world. Our labours, ofttimes, bestowed upon many, scarce
profit one : yours, bestowed upon one, redounds to the profit of
many millions. This is a summary way of obhging all the world
to you.
I encourage you not in your care : you have more comfort in
the success of it than all worlds can give you. The very subject
of your pains would give an heart to him that hath none. I
rather congratulate, with you, our common happiness, and the
hopes of posterity, in that royal and blessed issue. You have
best cause to be the best witness of the rare forwardness of our
gracious master; and I have seen enough to make me think I
can never be enough thankful to God for him.
That princes are fruitful is a great blessing : but that their
children are fruitful in grace, and not more eminent in place
than virtue, is the greatest favour God can do to a state. The
goodness of a private man is his own; of a prince, the whole
world's. Their words are maxims ; their actions, examples ; their
examples, rules.
When I compare them with their royal father, as I do oft and
cheerfully, I cannot say whether he be more happy in himself
or in them. I see, both in him and them, I see and wonder, that
God distributes to natural princes gifts proportionable to their
greatness. That wise Moderator of the world knows what use
is of their parts: he knows that the head must have all the
senses that pertain to the whole body : and how necessary it is,
that inferiors should admire them, no less for the excellency of
their graces, than for the sway of their authority. Whereupon
it is that he gives heroical qualities to princes : and as he hath
e [Adam Newton, a native of Scot- repute as a scholar : translator of the
land, though a layman, appointed dean first six books of Father Paul's History
of Durham ?6o6 ; created a, baronet of the Council of Trent.]
1620 : tutor to prince Henry ; a man of

Epist. IV.] Practical Works. 137
bestowed upon them his own name, so also he gives them special
stamps of his own glorious image.
Amongst all other virtues, what a comfort is it to see those
years and those spirits stoop so willingly to devotion ! Religion
is grown too severe a mistress for young and high courages to
attend. Very rare is that nobility of blood that doth not chal
lenge liberty, and that hberty that ends not in looseness. Lo,
this example teacheth our gallants how well even majesty can
stand with homage ; majesty to men, with homage to God.
Far be it from me to do that whichmy next clause shall con
demn: but I think it safe to say, that seldom ever those years
have promised, seldom have performed so much. Only, God keep
two mischiefs ever from within the smoke of his court-flattery
and treachery : the iniquity of times may make us fear these ; not
his inclination : for whether as English or as men, it hath been
ever familiar to us to fawn upon princes. Though what do 1 be
stow two names upon one vice, but attired in two sundry suits of
evil ? for, flattery is no other than gilded treason ; nothing else,
but poison in gold. This evil is more tame, not less dangerous.
It had been better for many great ones not to have been, than to
have been in their conceits more than men. This, flattery hath
done: and what can it not? that other, treachery, spills the blood ;
this, the virtues of princes : that takes them from others ; this be
reaves them of themselves : that, in spite of the actors, doth but
change their crown ; this steals it from them for ever.
Who can but wonder, that reads of some, not unwise, princes,
so bewitched with the enchantments of their parasites, that they
have thought themselves gods immortal ; and have suffered them
selves so styled, so adored ? Neither temples, nor statues, nor sa
crifices have seemed too much glory to the greatness of their self-
love. Now, none of all their actions could be either evil or un
beseeming : nothing could proceed from them worthy of censure,
unworthy of admiration : their very spots have been beauty ; their
humours, justice ; their errors, witty ; their paradoxes, divine ;
their excesses, heroical. 0 the damnable servility of false minds,
which persuade others of that which themselves laugh to see be
lieved ! 0 the dangerous credulity of self-love, which entertains
all advantages, if never so evil, never so impossible !
How happy a service shall you do to this whole world of ours,
if you shall still settle in that princely mind a true apprehension
of himself ; and shall teach him to take his own height aright ;

138 Practical Works. [Decade I.
and even from his childhood to hate a parasite, as the worst
traitor : to break those false glasses that would present him a
face not his own: to applaud plain truth, and bend his brows
upon excessive praises ! Thus affected, he may bid vice do her
worst. Thus shall he strive with virtue whether shall more
honour each other. Thus sincere and solid glory shall every
where follow and crown him. Thus, when he hath but his due,
he shall have so much, that he shall scorn to borrow the false
colours of adulation. Go on happily, in this worthy and noble
employment. The work cannot but succeed, that is furthered
with so many prayers.

TO SIR THOMAS CHALLONER".
Epistle V. — A report of some observations in my travel.
Sir, — Besides my hopes, not my desires, I travelled of late :
for knowledge, partly ; and partly for health. There was no
thing that made not my journey pleasant, save the labour of the
way : which yet was so sweetly deceived by the society of sir
Edmund Bacon, a gentleman truly honourable beyond all titles,
that I found small cause to complain.
The sea brooked not me, nor I it ; an unquiet element, made
only for wonder and use, not for pleasure. Alighted once from
that wooden conveyance and uneven way, I bethought myself
how fondly our hfe is committed to an unsteady and reeling piece
of wood, fickle winds, restless waters ; while we may set foot on
steadfast and constant earth.
Lo, then every thing taught me, every thing delighted me : so
ready are we to be affected with those foreign pleasures, which
at home we should overlook. I saw much, as one might in such
a span of eartli, in so few months. The time favoured me : for,
now newly had the key of peace opened those parts which war
had before closed ; closed, I say, to all English, save either fugi
tives or captives. All civil occurrences ; as what fair cities, what
strange fashions, entertainment, dangers, delights we found ; -are
fit for other ears and winter evenings : what I noted, as a divine,
h [Upon the accession of James I. to prince of Wales. He was a man of ge-
the throne of England, he was appointed nius and learning, and of great attain-
governor to prince Hemy, and became ments in science ; died 1615.]
his chamberlain on his being created

Epist. V.] Practical Works. 139
within the sphere of my profession, my paper shall not spare, in
some part, to report ; and that to yourself, which have passed a
longer way, with more happy fruit of observation. Even little
streams empty themselves into great rivers ; and they again into
the sea. Neither do I desire to tell you what you know not : it
shall be sufficient that I relate aught which others shall think
memorable. Along our way, how many churches saw we demolished ! No
thing left but rude heaps, to tell the passenger there had been
both devotion and hostility. O, the miserable footsteps of war,
besides bloodshed, ruin and desolation ! Fury hath done that there,
which covetousness would do with us ; would do, but shall not :
the truth within shall save the walls without. And, to speak
truly, whatever the vulgar exclaim, idolatry pulled down those
walls, not rage. If there had been no Hollander to raze them,
they should have fallen alone, rather than hide so much impiety
under their guilty roof. These are spectacles, not so much of
cruelty as justice ; cruelty of man, justice of God.
But, which I wondered at, churches fall, and Jesuits' colleges
rise every where : there is no city where those are not either
rearing or built. Whence cometh this ? Is it, for that devotion is
not so necessary as policy ? Those men, as we say of the fox, fare
best when they are most cursed : none so much spited of their
own; none so hated of all; none so opposed by ours: and yet
these ill weeds grow. Whosoever lives long shall see them feared
of their own, which now hate them ; shall see these seven lean
kine devour all the fat beasts that feed on the meadows of Tiber.
I prophesy, as Pharaoh dreamed : the event shall justify my con
fidence. At Bruxelles, I saw some Englishwomen profess themselves
vestals, with a thousand rites ; I know not whether more ridi
culous or magical. Poor souls ! they could not be fools enough
at home. It would have made you to pity, laugh, disdain, I know
not which more, to see, by what cunning sleights and fair pretences
that weak sex was fetched into a wilful bondage : and if those
two can agree, willingly constrained to serve a master whom they
must and cannot obey ; whom they neither may forsake for their
vow, nor can please for their frailty. What follows hence ? Late
sorrow, secret mischief, misery irremediable. Their forwardness
for will-worship shall condemn our coldness for truth.
I talked there, in more boldness perhaps than wisdom, with

140 Practical Works. [Decade I.
Costerus1, a famous Jesuit ; an old man, more testy than subtle,
and more able to wrangle than satisfy. Our discourse was long
and roving ; and on his part full both of words and vehemency.
He spake as at home ; I, as a stranger : yet so, as he saw me
modestly peremptory. The particulars would swell my letter too
much : it is enough that the truth lost less than I gained.
At Ghent, a city that commands reverence for age and wonder
for the greatness, we fell upon a Capuchin novice, which wept
bitterly, because he was not allowed to be miserable. His head
had now felt the razor ; his back the rod : all that Laconical dis
cipline pleased him well; which another, being condemned to,
would justly account a torment. What hindered then ? Piety to
his mother would not permit this, which he thought piety to God.
He could not be a willing "beggar, unless his mother must beg un
willingly. He was the only heir of his father, the only stay of his
mother : the comfort of her widowhood depended on this her
orphan ; who now, naked, must enter into the world of the Capu
chins, as he came first into this ; leaving his goods to the division
of the fraternity : the least part whereof should have been hers,
whose he wished all. Hence those tears, that repulse. I pitied his
ill-bestowed zeal ; and rather wished, than durst, teach him more
wisdom. These men for devout, the Jesuits for learned and prag
matical, have engrossed all opinion from other orders. 0 hypo
crisy ! No Capuchin may take or touch silver : for these are, you
know, the quintessence of Franciscan spirits. This metal is as very
an anathema to these, as the wedge of gold to Achan : at the offer
whereof he starts back, as Moses from the serpent : yet he carries
a boy with him, that takes and carries it; and never complains
of either metal or measure. I saw, and laughed at it ; and, by this
open trick of hypocrisy, suspected more, more close. How could
I choose? while commonly the least appears of that which is;
especially of that which is loathsome in appearance, much more in
nature. At Namur, on a pleasant and steep hilltop, we found one
that was termed a married hermit : approving his wisdom above
his fellows, that could make choice of so cheerful and sociable a
solitariness. Whence, after a delightful passage up the sweet river Mosak,
we visited the populous and rich clergy of Leodium l. That great
city might well be dichotomized into cloisters and hospitals. If I
' [See an account ofthe interview in "Some Specialities in the Life of Bishop
Hall."] k The Meuse. l Liege.— Pratt,

Epist. V.] Practical Works. 141
might adventure, I could here play the critic ; after all the ruins
of my neglected philology. Old monuments, and after them our
Lipsius, call this people Eburones. I doubt whether it should not
rather be written Ebriones ; yet, without search of any other re
cords save my own eyes : while yet I would those streets were
more moist with wine than with blood : wherein no day, no night
is not dismal to some. No law, no magistrate lays hold on the
known murderer, if himself list : for three days after his fact, the
gates are open, and justice shut : private violence may pursue
him, pubhc justice cannot : whence, some of more hot temper carve
themselves of revenge; others take up with a small pecuniary
satisfaction. 0 England, thought I, happy for justice, happy for
security ! There you shall find in every corner a mammet ; at
every door, a beggar ; in every dish, a priest.
From thence we passed to the Spa, a village famous for her
medicinal and mineral waters, compounded of iron and copperas ;
the virtue whereof yet the simple inhabitant ascribes to their be
neficial saint, whose heavy foot hath made an ill-shaped impression
in a stone of his Savenirm ; a water more wholesome than pleasant,
and yet more famous than wholesome.
The wild deserts, on which it borders, are haunted with three
kinds of ill cattle ; freebooters, wolves, witches ; although these
two last are ofttimes one. For that savage Ardenna is reputed
to yield many of those monsters, whom the Greeks call \vK.avdpu>-
irovs; they, lougarous; we, if you will, witch- wolves : witches,
that have put on the shape of those cruel beasts. We saw a boy
there whose half face was devoured by one of them near the
village : yet so, as that the ear was rather cut than bitten off.
Not many days before our coming, at Limburg, was executed one
of those miscreants, who confessed, on the wheel, to have devoured
two and forty children in that form. It would ask a large volume
to scan this problem of lycanthropy. The reasons wherewith
their relation furnished me, on both parts, would make an epistle
tedious. This, in short, I resolved : a substantial change is above
the reach of all infernal powers ; proper to the same hand that
created the substance of both : herein the devil plays the double
sophister ; yea, the sorcerer with sorcerers : he both deludes the
witch's conceit, and the beholders'1 eyes.
One thing I may not omit without sinful oversight ; a short,

Q The name of the upper well of the Spa.

142 Practical Works. [Decade I.
but memorable story, which the greffier of that town, though of
different religion, reported to more ears than ours. When the
last inquisition tyrannized in those parts, and helped to spend the
fagots of Ardenna ; one of the rest, a confident confessor, being
led far to his stake, sung psalms along the way, in a heavenly
courage and victorious triumph. The cruel officer, envying his
last mirth, and grieving to see him merrier than his tormentors,
commanded him silence : he sings still, as desirous to improve his
last breath to the best : the view of his approaching glory bred
his joy ; his joy breaks forth into a cheerful confession. The
enraged sheriff causes his tongue, drawn forth to the length, to be
cut off near the roots. Bloody wretch ! It had been good music
to have heard his shrieks ; but to hear his music was torment.
The poor martyr dies in silence, rests in peace. Not many months
after, our butcherly officer hath a son born with his tongue hang
ing down upon his chin, like a deer after long chase, which never
could be gathered up within the bounds of his lips. 0 the divine
hand, full of justice, full of revenge! Go now, Lipsius, and write
the new miracles of thy goddess, and confirm superstition by
strange events. Judge, you that have seen, if ever the chapel of
Halle or Zichem have yielded aught more notable.
We met every where" pilgrims to those his ladies: two ladies,
shall I call them, or one lady in two shrines ? If two, why do
they worship but one ? If but one, why doth she that cure at
Zichem, which at Halle she could not ? 0 what pity it is that so
high a wit should in the last act be subject to dotage ! All the
masculine brood of that brain we cherished, and, if need were,
admired : but these his silly virgins, the feeble issue of distem
pered age, who can abide ? One of his darlings at Louan0 told
me from his own mouth, that the elder P of these two daughters
was by him in ten days got, conceived, born, christened. I be
lieved, and wondered not. These acts of superstition have an
invisible father and midwife : besides, that it is not for an elephant
to go three years with a mouse. It was told me, in the shop of
his Moretus, not without some indignation, that our king, when
he had well viewed the book, and read some passages, threw it
to the ground, with this censure ; " Damnation to him that made
n Histoire et Miracles, &o. "Que este" environ 20000." P. 35.
le 8. jour du mois de Septembre au diet ° Louvaine. — Pratt.
an 1603. estant Feste de la Nativity de p Virgo Hallensis.
notre Dame, le nombre de pelerins a

Epist. VI.] Practical Works. 143
it, and to him that believes it : " whether a true story, or one of
their legends, I inquire not : I am sure that sentence did not so
much discontent them as it joyed me.
Let me tell you yet, ere I take off my pen, two wonders more,
which I saw in that wonder of cities, Antwerp.
One, a solemn mass in a shambles, and that on God's day :
while the house was full of meat, of butchers, of buyers, some
kneeling, others bargaining, most talking, all busy. It was strange
to see one house sacred to God and the belly, and how those two
services agreed. The priest did eat fiesh, the butchers sold flesh ;
in one roof, at one instant. The butcher killed, and sold it by
pieces ; the priest did sacrifice, and orally devour it whole : whe
ther was the more butcher ? The like we might have seen at
Malines?. The other, an Englishman1, so madly devout, that he had wil
fully mured up himself as an anchorite; the worst of all pri
soners : there sat he, pent up, for his further merit ; half hunger-
starved, for the charity of the citizens. It was worth seeing, how
manly he could bite in his secret want, and dissemble his over-
late repentance. I cannot commend his mortification, if he wish
to be in heaven, yea, in purgatory, to be delivered from thence.
I durst not pity him, because his durance was willing, and, as he
hoped, meritorious : but such encouragement as he had from me,
such thank shall he have from God ; who, instead of an " Euge,"
which he looks for, shall angrily challenge him with, " Who re
quired this?" I leave him now in his own fetters; you, to your
worthy and honourable employments.
Pardon me this length. Loquacity is the natural fault of tra
vellers : while I profit any, I may well be forgiven.

TO SIR DAVID MURRAY".
Epistle VI. — Concerning the miracles of our time.
Indeed, the world abounds with miracles. These, while they
fill the mouths of many, sway the faith of some, and make all men
wonder. Our nature is greedy of news, which it will rather feign
than want. Certainly, ere long, miracles will be no wonders for
4 Mechlinia. latter was placed under the care of the
r One Goodwin, a Kentish man. earl of -March, afterwards his groom of
" [Appointed the first gentleman of the stole.] '
prince Henry's bedchamber, when the

144 Practical Works. [Decade I.
their frequence. I had thought our age had had too many gray
hairs, and with time experience, and with experience craft, not to
have descried a juggler ; but now I see, by the simplicity, it
declines to his second childhood. The two Lipsian ladies, the
charms of Bluntstone's boy and Garnet's straw4, what a noise
have they made ! I only wonder how Faux and Catesby escaped
the honour of saints, and privilege cf miracles. Herein you ask
my sentence ; more seasonably than you hoped ; for I meant to
have wrote a just volume of this subject, and furnished myself
accordingly in that region of wonders, but that I feared to sur
charge the nice stomach of our time with too much. Neither
would my length have aught availed you ; whose thoughts are so
taken up with those high and serviceable cares, that they can
give no leisure to an over-long discourse. May it please you
therefore to receive, in short, what I have deliberately resolved in
myself, and think I can make good to others.
I have noted four ranks of commonly-named miracles : from
which if you make a just subduction, how few of our wonders
shall remain either to belief or admiration ! The first, merely re
ported, not seen to be done ; the next, seeming to be done, but
counterfeited ; the third, truly done, but not true miracles ; the
last, truly miraculous, but by Satan.
The first of these are bred of lies, and nourished by credulity.
The mouth of fame is full of such blasts. For these, if I listed
a while to rake in the legends and book of conformities, an in
genuous papist could not but blush ; an indifferent reader could not
but lay his hand on his spleen, and wonder as much that any
man could be so impudent to broach such reports or any so simple
to believe them, as the credulous multitude wonders that any
should be so powerful to effect them. But I seek neither their
shame, nor others'1 laughter. I dare say, not the Talmud, not the
Alcoran, hath more impossible tales, more ridiculous lies. Yea,
to this head, Canus himself, a famous papist, dares refer many of
those ancient miracles reported ; and, by all likelihood, believed
of Bede and Gregory.
The next are bred of fraud and cozenage, nourished by super
stition. Who knows not how the famous Kentish idol" moved
her eyes and hands by those secret gimmers, which now every
puppet-play can imitate ? how St. Wilfred's needle opened to the
' [See an account of this in Fuller, Ch. Hist. Oxford edition, vol. v. p. 361.]
a The Rood of Grace at Boxley Abbey.

Epist. VI.] Practical Works. 145
penitent, and closed itself to the guilty ? how our Lady sheds the
tears of a bleeding vine ; and doth many of her daily feats, as
Bel did of old eat up his banquet, or as Picens the eremite fasted
forty days ? But these two every honest papist will confess, with
voluntary shame and grief, and grant that it may grow a dis
putable question, whether mountebanks or priests are the greatest
cozeners. Vives, beyond his wont, vehemently terms them exe
crable and satanical impostors.
The third are true works of God under a false title: God
gives them their being; men, their name; unjust, because above
their nature. Wherein the philosopher and the superstitiously
ignorant are contrarily extreme : while the one seeks out natural
causes of God's immediate and metaphysical works ; the other
ascribes ordinary effects to supernatural causes. If the violence
of a disease cease after a vow made to our Lady ; if a soldier,
armed with this vow, escape gunshot ; a captive, prison ; a woman
travailing, death; the vulgar, and I would they alone, cry out,
"A miracle !v One loadstone hath more wonder in it than a
thousand such events. Every thing draws a base mind to admira
tion. Francesco del Campo, one of the archduke's equeries,
told us, not without importunate devotion, that in that fatal field
of Nieuport, his vow to their Virgin helped him to swim over a
large water, when the oars of his arms had never before tried
any waves : a dog hath done more, without acknowledgment
of any saint : fear gives sudden instincts of skill, even without
precept. Their own Costerus durst say, that the cure of a disease is no
miracle : his reason, because it may be done by the power of
nature, albeit in longer time. Yieldx this, and what have Lip
sius his two ladies done ? wherefore serves all this clamour from
the two hills ? I assented not ; neither will be herein thus much
their enemy : for, as well the manner of doing as the matter,
makes a miracle. If Peter's handkerchief or shadow heal a
disease, it is miraculous; though it might have been done by
a potion. Many of their recoveries, doubtless, have been wrought
through the strength of nature in the patient, not of virtue in
the saint. How many sick men have mended with their physic
in, their pocket ! though many other also, I doubt not, of those
* " En l'an mil six cents et trois, y boyteuses y apporte"es, au seul espace
furent comptez cent et trente cinque de quatre ou cinque mois." Histoire et
potences et jambes de bois de personnes Miracles, u. xii. p. 34.
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. L

146 Practical Works. [Decade I.
cures have fallen into the fourth head, which indeed is more
knotty, and requires a deeper discourse.
Wherein if I shall evince these two things, I shall, I hope,
satisfy my reader, and clear the truth : one, that miracles are
wrought by Satan ; the other, that those which the Romish
Church boasteth are of this nature, of this author. I contend
not of words ; we take miracles in Augustin's large sense, wherein
is little difference betwixt a thing marvellous and miraculous, such
as the Spirit of God, in either instrument, calls Swchxet's and
rrVl^Q^y- Perhaps it would be more proper to say, that God
works these miracles by Satan ; for as in the natural and voluntary
motions of wicked men, so in the supernatural acts of evil spirits
(as they are acts), there is more than a mere permission : Satan
by his tempest bereaves Job of his children, yet Job, looking
higher, saith, The Lord hath taken. No sophistry can elude
this proof of Moses, that a prophet or dreamer may give a true
sign or wonder, and yet say, Let us go after strange gods, Deut.
xiii. i, nor that of our Saviour, who foretells of false Christs, false
prophets that shall give o-Tuzeia jj.eyd\a kou, repara, signs and won
ders, and those great. There are some too great, I grant, for
the hand of all infernal powers, by which our Saviour invincibly
proves the truth of his Deity ; these never graced falsehood,
neither admit any precedent from our times. As to the rest, so
frequent and common, for me, I could not believe the church of
Rome were antichristian, if it had not boasted of these wonders.
All the knot lies then in the application of this to Rome and our
imaginary Lady. How shall it appear that their miracles are of
this kind ? Ludovicus Vives gives six notes to distinguish God's
miracles from Satan's, Lipsius three ; both of them too many, as
might easily be discovered by discussing of particulars. It is not
so much the greatness of the work, nor the belief of witnesses,
nor the quality nor manner of the action, nor truth of essence,
that can descry the immediate hand which worketh in our miracles.
That alone is the true and golden rule which Justin Martyr, if at
least that book be his, prescribes in his "Questions and Answers :""
" How shall it be known that our miracles are better than the
heathens', although the event countenance both alike ?" Resp.
Ex fide et cultu veri Dei, " By the faith and worship of the true

y [mna s. nil 11 3 pi. Ps-cvi. i. potentia-as. Or nD^n Prodigium, Exod. vii. 9.
r\\\n, Signum, Gen.iv. 15. See difference between them, Leigh's Critica Sacr. p. 101.]

Epist. VI.] Practical Works. 147
God." Miracles must be judged by the doctrine which they con
firm, not the doctrine by the miracles. The dreamer or prophet
must be esteemed, not by the event of his wonder, but by the
substance and scope of his teaching. The Romanists argue pre
posterously, while they would prove the truth of their church by
miracles, whereas they should prove their miracles by the truth.
To say nothing of the fashion of their cures, that one is prescribed
to come to our Lady rather on a Friday, as Henry Loyez ;
another, to wash nine days in the water of Mont-aigu, as Leonard
Stocqueau ; another, to eat a piece of the oak where the image
stood, as Magdalenea the widow of Bruxelles : all which, if they
savour not strong of magical receipts, let the indifferent judge.
Surely, either there is no sorcery, or this is it. All shall be plain
if the doctrine confirmed by their miracles be once discussed : for
if that be divine truth, we do unjustly impugn these works as
diabolical ; if falsehood, they do blasphemously proclaim them
for divine. These works tend all chiefly to this double doctrine :
that the blessed Virgin is to be invoked for her mediation ; that
God and saints are to be adored in and by images ; positions that
would require a volume, and such as are liberally disputed by
others : whereof one is against scripture ; the other, which in
these cases values no less, besides it : one deifies the virgin ; the
other, a stock or stone. It matters not what subtle distinctions
their learned doctors make betwixt mediation of redemption and
intercession, bovXela and Xarpda, the saint and the image : we
know their common people, whose devotion enriches those shrines,
by confession of their own writers, climb the hill of Zichem with
this conceit, that Mary is their Saviouressb ; that the stock is
their goddess : which unless it be true, how do their wonders
teach them lies ! and therefore how from God ? But to take the
first at best (for the second is so gross, that were not the second
commandment by papists purposely razed out of their primers,
children and carters would condemn it), it cannot be denied that
all the substance of prayer is in the heart ; the vocal sound is but
a compliment, and as an outward case wherein our thoughts are
sheathed. That power cannot know the prayer which knows not
the heart : either then the virgin is God, for that she knows the
heart ; or, to know the heart is not proper to God ; or, to know
a Histoire et Miracles de nostre moy." Manual of French Prayers,
Dame. p. 73, p. 102. printed at Liege by approbation and
b Examen pacifique de la doctrine authority of Anton. Ghevart, inquisitor,
des Huguenotsi ' ' 0 sauveresse, sauve &c. l2

148 Practical Works. [Decade I.
the heart, and so our prayers, is falsely ascribed to the virgin :
and therefore these wonders, which teach men thus to honour her,
are doctors of lies, so not of God. There cannot be any discourse
wherein it is more easy to be tedious. To end ; if prayers were
but in words, and saints did meddle with all particularities of
earthly things, yet blessed Mary should be a God, if she could at
once attend all her suitors. One solicits her at Halle ; another, at
Scherpen-hewel; another, at Lucca; at our Walsingham, another ;
one in Europe ; another in Asia ; or perhaps, another is one of
her new clients in America: ten thousand devout supphants are
at once prostrate before her several shrines. If she cannot hear
all, why pray they ? if she can, what can God do more ? Certainly,
as the matter is used, there cannot be greater wrong offered to
those heavenly spirits, than by our importunate superstitions to
be thrust into God's throne, and to have forced upon them the
honours of their Maker. There is no contradiction in heaven : a
saint cannot allow that an angel forbids. See thou do it not, was
the voice of an angel : if all the miraculous blocks in the world
shall speak contrary, we know whom to beheve. The old rule
was, MapCav p,rjbeis ¦npoo-Kwurai : " Let no man worship the virgin
Mary.'' Either that rule is devilish or this practice. And if this
practice be ill, God deliver me from the immediate author of these
miracles. Change but one idol for another, and what differ the
wonders of Apollo's temples from those of these chapels ? We
reverence, as we ought, the memory of that holy and happy vir
gin : we hate those that dishonour her : we hate those that deify
her. Cursed be all honour that is stolen from God.
This short satisfaction I give in a long question ; such as I
dare rest in; and resolve, that all popish miracles are either
falsely reported, or falsely done, or falsely miraculous, or falsely
ascribed to Heaven.

TO MR. WILLIAM BEDELL<=,
AT VENICE.
Epistle VII. — Lamenting the death of our late divines, and in
citing to their imitation.
We have heard how full of trouble and danger the Alps were
c [Eector of Horningsherth, Suffolk, He was chaplain to sir H. Wotton, on
afterwards Provost of Trinity College, his embassy to Venice.]
Dublin, and, lastly, bishop of Kilmore.

Epist. VII.] Practical Works. 149
to you, and did at once both pity your difficulties and rejoice in
your safety.
Since your departure from us, Reynolds0 is departed from
the world. Alas, how many worthy lights have our eyes seen
shining and extinguished ! How many losses have we lived to
see the church sustain, and lament ; of her children, of her
pillars ; our own, and foreign : I speak not of those which, being
excellent, would needs be obscure, whom nothing but their own
secresy deprived of the honour of our tears. There are, besides,
too many whom the world noted and admired; even since the
time that our common mother acknowledged us for her sons.
Our Fulke e led the way ; that profound, ready, and resolute
doctor; the hammer of heretics; the champion of truth: whom
our younger times have heard oft disputing acutely and power-
fully. Next him followed that honour of our schools and angel of our
church, learned Whitaker1; than whom our age saw nothing
more memorable : what clearness of judgment, what sweetness
of style, what gravity of person, what grace of carriage was in
that man ! Who ever saw him without reverence, or heard him
without wonder ?
Soon after, left the world that famous and illuminate doctor,
Francis Junius s, the glory of Leyden, the other hope of the
church, the oracle of textual and school divinity ; rich in lan
guages, subtle in distinguishing, and in argument invincible : and
his companion in labours, Lu. Trelcatius h, would needs be his
companion in joys; who had doubled our sorrow and loss, but
that he recompensed it with a son like himself.
Soon after, fell old reverend Beza1 ; a long fixed star in this
firmament of the church ; who, after many excellent monuments
of learning and fidelity, lived to prove upon his adversaries that
he was not dead at their day.
Neither may I, without injury, omit that worthy pair of our
d [President of C.C.C. Oxford, died nos et ecclesiam tuam quam ut accepi
1607.] hodie reliquit commeans in ctelos
e [William Fulke, Master of Pembroke Franciscus Junius vir optime de pio-
Hall, Cambridge.] rum studiis meritus. Doleo jaeturam
f [William Whitaker, Master of St. Ecclesife.]
John's College, Cambridge.] h [Father and son, both professors at
e [The following notice of his death Leyden.]
occurs in the Ephemerides of Isaac Ca- ' [Beza died Oct. 1605.]
saubon, 1602, Id. Nov. — 0 Deus respice
VOL. VI.

150 Practical Works. [Decade I.
late divines, Greenham1^ and Perkins1 : whereof the one excelled
in experimental divinity; and knew well how to stay a weak
conscience, how to raise a fallen, how to strike a remorseless : the
other, in a distinct judgment, and a rare dexterity in clearing
the obscure subtleties of the school, and easy explication of the
most perplex discourses.
Doctor Reynolds is the last ; not in worth, but in the time of
his loss. He alone was a well furnished library, full of all faculties,
of all studies, of all learning ; the memory, the reading of that
man, were near to a miracle.
These are gone, amongst many more, whom the church mourns
for in secret : would God her loss could be as easily supplied as
lamented ! Her sorrow is for those that are past ; her remainder
of joy in those that remain ; her hope in the next age. I pray
God the causes of her hope and joy may be equivalent to those
of her grief.
What should this work in us but an imitation, yea, that word
is not too big for you, an emulation of their worthiness ? It is no
pride for a man to wish himself spiritually better than he dare
hope to reach : nay, I am deceived if it be not true humility :
for what doth this argue him but low in his conceit, high in his
desires only ? or if so, happy is the ambition of grace and power
of sincere serviceableness to God. Let us wish and affect this,
while the world lays plots for greatness. Let me not prosper, if
I bestow envy on them. He is great that is good ; and no man,
methinks, is happy on earth to him that hath grace for substance
and learning for ornament.
If you know it not, the church, our mother, looks for much at
your hands : she knows how rich our common Father hath left
you : she knows your graces, your opportunities, your employ
ments : she thinks you are gone so far, hke a good merchant, for
no small gain ; and looks you shall come home well laded. And
for vent of your present commodities, though our chief hope of
success be cut off with that unhoped peace, yet what can hinder
your private traffick for God ?
I hope, and who doth not ? that this blow will leave in your
noble Venetians a perpetual scar ; and that their late irresolution
k [See the liues on Greenham's Book I mean for a painful and faithful de-
of the Sabbath, vol. ix. p. 705.] fender of God's will in his word ;" Fuller's
' ["All held Perkins for a prophet. Ch. Hist, book ix. § 42.]

Epist. VIII.] Practical Works. 151
shall' make them ever capable of all better counsels ; and have his
work, like some great eclipse, many years after. How happy
were it for Venice, if, as she is every year married to the sea, so
she were once thoroughly espoused to Christ !
In the mean time, let me persuade you to gratify us at home
with the publication of that your exquisite Polemical Discourse m ;
whereto our conference with M. Alabaster gave so happy an oc
casion. You shall hereby clear many truths, and satisfy all readers :
yea, I doubt not but an adversary, not too perverse, shall
acknowledge the truth's victory and yours. It was wholesome
counsel of a father, that, in the time of an heresy, every man
should write.
Perhaps you complain of the inundations of Frankfort. How
many have been discouraged from benefiting of the world by this
conceit of multitude ! Indeed, we all write ; and, while we write,
cry out of number. How well might many be spared, even of
those that complain of too many ! whose importunate babbling
cloys the world, without use. nMy suspicion gives me, that some
may perhaps reflect this censure upon myself. I am content to
put it to hazard : and, if need be, bear it. But certainly, methinks,
of profitable writings store is an easy fault. No man is bound to
read ; and he that will spend his time and his eyes where no sen
sible profit draws him on, is worthy to lose his labour.
Let others look to their own ; I dare promise yours happy suc
cess. Be entreated only to cast off this injurious modesty, and
suffer me to draw you forth into Paul's Churchyard, and to fetch
from you some honest issue of an able mind : which, surviving you,
shall still preach the truth when you are gone to dust.
God give you as prosperous a return, as your passage was dif
ficult ; and serve himself of your gifts at home, and repossess us
of you, whom we at once love and reverence.

TO MY LORD, THE EARL OF ESSEX".
Epistle VIII.— Advice for his travels.
My Lord, — Both my duty and promise make my letters your
debt ; and if neither of these, my thirst of your good. You shall
m [See " Copies of certain Letters" ap- save only the modern ones of Pratt
pended to Burnet's Life of Bp. Bedell.] and P. Hall.]
n [This passage, " My suspicion," to o [Robert Devereux, only son of the
the end of the letter, does not appear in favourite of queen Elizabeth, married at
any of the editions which I have seen, the age of fourteen to Frances Howard,

152 Practical Works. [Decade I.
never but need good counsel ; most in travel : then are both our
dangers greater, and our hopes.
I need not tell you the eyes of the world are much upon you ;
for your own sake, for your father's : only let your eyes be upon
it again ; to observe it ; to satisfy it ; and, in some cases, to con
temn it. As your graces, so your weaknesses, will be the sooner
spied, by how much you are more noted : the higher any building
is, the more it requires exquisite proportions, which in some low
and rude pile is needless. If your virtues shall be eminent, like
your father's, you cannot so hide yourself but the world will see
you, and force upon you applause and admiration, in spite of mo
desty ; but if you shall come short in these, your father's perfection
shall be your blemish.
Think now that more eyes are upon you than at home : of
foreigners, of your own ; theirs to observe, ours to expect. For
now we account you in the school of wisdom : whence if you return
not better, you shall worse ; with the loss of your time, of our
hopes. For I know not how natural it is to us to look for alter
ation in travel ; and, with the change of air and land, to presup
pose a change in the person. Now you are, through both your years
and travel, in the forge of your hopes : we all look, not without
desire and apprecation, in what shape you will come forth.
Think it not enough that you see, or can say you have seen,
strange things of nature or event : it is a vain and dead travel
that rests in the eye or the tongue. All is but lost, unless your
busy mind shall, from the body that it sees, draw forth some
quintessence of observation, wherewith to inform and enrich itself.
There is nothing that can quit the cost and labour of travel but
the gain of wisdom. How many have we seen and pitied, which
have brought nothing from foreign countries but misshapen clothes,
or exotical gestures, or new games, or affected lispings ; or
the diseases of the place, or, which is worst, the vices ! These
men have at once wandered from their country and from them
selves : and some of them, too easy to instance, have left God be
hind them ; or, perhaps, instead of him, have, after a loose and
filthy life, brought home some idle puppet in a box, whereon to
spend their devotion. Let their wreck warn you, and let their
follies be entertained by you with more detestation than pity.
second daughter of the earl of Suffolk ; He was known later in life as general of
which marriage was afterwards dissolved the parliament forces in arms against
under circumstances of groat scandal. Charles L]

Epist. VIII.] Practical Works. 153
I know your honour too well to fear you : your young years
have been so graciously prevented with sovereign antidotes of
truth and holy instruction, that this infection despairs of prevail
ing : your very blood gives you argument of safety : yet, good
counsel is not unseasonable, even where danger is not suspected.
For God's sake, my lord, whatsoever you gain, lose nothing of
the truth : remit nothing of your love and piety to God, of your
favour and zeal to religion. As sure as there is a God, you were
trained up in the true knowledge of him. If either angel or
devil or Jesuit should suggest the contrary, send him away with
defiance. There you see and hear every day the true mother
and the feigned, striving and pleading for the living child. The
true Prince of Peace hath passed sentence from heaven on our side.
Do not you stoop so much as to a doubt or motion of irresolution.
Abandon those from your table and salt whom your own or others'
experience shall descry dangerous : those serpents are full of in
sinuations : but, of all, those of your own country, which are so
much the more pernicious, by how much they have more colour of
privilege of entireness.
Religion is the greatest care : advices for carriage, and improve
ment of travel, challenge the next place. I need not counsel you
to keep your state with affability ; and so to manage yourself, as
that your courtesy may be more visible than your greatness.
Nature hath taught you this, and hath secretly propagated it from
your father, who, by his sweetness of disposition won as many
hearts as by his valour and munificence. I rather tell you, that
a good nature hath betrayed many ; who, looking for that in
others which they have found in themselves, have at last com
plained of their own credulity and others' deceit.
Trust not strangers too much with your counsel, with your
person ; and in your greatest familiarities have an eye to their
common disposition and infirmities. Those natures wherewith
you converse are subject to displeasure, and violent in pursuit
of small indignities. Yesterday heard I named, from no unfaithful
report, a French courtier, that in single combat hath sent eighteen
souls from the field to their place ; yet he, ever as the patient in
the quarrel ; and, for this, mentioned with more than excuse : I
censure not how justly. This is others' care : only hence I argue
the rifeness of unkindness taken and pursued. You shall see that
the soil is not so diverse as the inclination of persons ; who, in
all climates, though they differ in particulars, yet still agree too

154 Practical Works. [Decade I.
well in common faults. The Italian, deep, close, and crafty ; the
French, rash; the German, dull. One, not forward to offer
wrongs, but apprehensive of a small wrong offered ; another,
prone either to take or give them, but not uneasy to remit ; an
other, long in conceiving, long in retaining.
What do I exemplify ? There are long catalogues of peculiar
vices that haunt special places, which, if they were not notoriously
infamous, my charity would serve me to particularize. It were
pity there should be fewer virtues, local and proper.
There are good uses to be made of others' enormities ; if no
more, by them to correct our own : who loathes vice in another
is in good forwardness to leave it in himself : the view of the public
calamities and disorders of other churches shall best teach you
thankfulness for the better state of ours ; but better use of their
virtues, by how much it is more excellent to know what we should
do than what we should not.
You must now look upon all things, not with the eyes of a
stranger only, but of a philosopher, but of a Christian ; which ac
counts all lost that is not reduced to practice. It is a great praise
that you are wiser by the contemplation of foreign things, but
much greater, that you are better. That you have seen cities,
and courts, and Alps, and rivers, can never yield you so sound
comfort, as that you have looked seriously into yourself. In vain
do we affect all foreign knowledge, if we be not thoroughly ac
quainted at home.
Think much, and say little ; especially in occasions of dispraise :
wherein both a little is enough, and ofttimes any thing is too
much. You cannot inquire too much : that which in us inferiors would
be censured for dangerous curiosity, in your greatness shall be
construed as a commendable desire of knowledge.
Ask still after men of greatest parts and reputation ; and, where
you find fame no liar, note and respect them. Make choice of
those for conversation, which, either in present or in hope, are
eminent; and when you meet with excellencies in any faculty,
leave not without some gain of knowledge. What are others'
graces to you, if you only admire them, not imitate, not appro
priate them ?
Lo, your equals in time grow up happily in the college (so I
may term it) of our young and hopeful court which you have left ;
and, above all, that gracious president of worthiness and per-

Epist. IX.] Practical Works. 155
fection ; whom, while in all other things you serve, you may with
out reproof emulate for learning, virtue, piety. Myself am wit
ness of their progress, which I do joyfully gratulate to the suc
ceeding age. Beware lest their diligence shall outstrip you, and
upbraid you with that ancient check, of going far and faring
worse. I am bold and busy in counselling : you abound with better
monitors; and the best you carry about, I hope, in your own
bosom. Though these should be needless, yet they argue my
humble affection, and discharge my duty. My prayers are better
than my counsels, both of them hearty and unfeigned for your
good. God guide and return you safe from a journey not more
happy and prosperous than I wish it.

TO SIR RORERT DRURY AND HIS LADYp.
Epistle IX. — Concerning my removal from them.
With how unwilling a heart I leave you, He knows that
searcheth the heart : neither durst I go, but that I sensibly see
his hand pulling me from you. Indeed, desire of competency
betrayed me at first, and drew mine ^eyes to look aside : but
when I bent them upon the place, and saw the number and the
need of the people, together with their hunger and applause,
meeting with the circumstances of God's strange conveyance of
this offer to me, I saw that was but as the fowler's feather, to
make me stoop : and contemning that respect of myself, I sin
cerely acknowledged higher motives of my yielding, and resolved
I might not resist.
You are dear to me, as a charge to a pastor : if my pains to
you have not proved it, suspect me. Yet I leave you. God calls
me to a greater work: I must follow him. It were more ease
to me to live secretly hidden in that quiet obscurity, as Saul
amongst the stuff, than to be drawn out to the eye of the world ;
to act so high apart before a thousand witnesses. In this point,
if I seem to neglect you, blame me not: I must neglect and
forget myself.
I can but labour, wheresoever I am. God knows how willingly
I do that, whether there or here. I shall dig and delve and
plant, in what ground soever my Master sets me. If he take me
p [See the Autobiography of this Bishop, vol. i .]

1 56 Practical Works. [Decade I.
to a larger field, complain you not of loss, while the Church may
gain. But you are my own charge : no wise father neglects his own
in compassion of the greater need of others : yet consider, that
even careful parents, when the prince commands, leave their
families, and go to warfare.
What if God had called me to heaven ? would you have grudged
my departure ?»Imagine that I am there, where I shall be ; although
the case be not to you altogether so hopeless : for now I may hear
of you, visit you, renew my holy counsels, and be mutually com
forted from you ; there, none of these. He that will once trans
pose me from earth to heaven hath now chosen to transpose me
from one piece of earth to another : what is here worthy of your
sorrow, worthy of complaint? That should be for my own good ;
this shall be for the good of many. If your experience have
taught you that my labours do promise profit ; obtain of yourself
to deny yourself so much, as to rejoice that the loss of a few
should be the advantage of many souls. Though why do I speak
of loss ? I speak that as your fear, not my own : and your affec
tion causes that fear, rather than the occasion.
The God of the harvest shall send you a labourer more able,
as careful. That is my prayer and hope, and shall be my joy.
I dare not leave, but in this expectation, this assurance. What
ever become of me, it shall be my greatest comfort to hear you
commend your change ; and to see your happy progress in those
ways I have both showed you and beaten. So shall we meet in
the end, and never part.

WRITTEN TO MR. J. B.
AND
DEDICATED TO MY FATHER, MR. J. HALL.
Epistle X.— Against the fear of death.
You complain that you fear death : he is no man that doth not.
Besides the pain, nature shrinks at the thought of parting.
If you would learn the remedy, know the cause : for that she
is ignorant and faithless. She would not be cowardly, if she
were not foolish. Our fear is from doubt, and our doubt from
unbelief: and whence is our unbelief, but chiefly from ignorance?
She knows not what good is elsewhere : she believes not her part

Epistle X.] Practical Works. 157
in it. Get once true knowledge and true faith, your fear shall
vanish alone. Assurance of heavenly things makes us willing to
part with earthly : he cannot contemn this life that knows not
the other : if you would despise earth therefore, think of heaven :
if you would have death easy, think of that glorious life that fol
lows it. Certainly, if we can endure pain for health, much more
shall we abide a few pangs for glory.
Think how fondly we fear a vanquished enemy. Lo, Christ
hath triumphed over death : he bleedeth and gaspeth under us ;
and yet we tremble. It is enough to us that Christ died : neither
would he have died, but that we might die with safety and
pleasure. Think, that death is necessarily annexed to nature. We are
for a time on condition that we shall not be ; we receive life
but upon the terms of redelivery. Necessity makes some things
easy, as it usually makes easy things difficult. It is a fond injus
tice to embrace the covenant and shrink at the condition.
Think, there is but one common road to all flesh : there are
no by-paths of any fairer or nearer way : no, not for princes.
Even company abateth miseries, and the commonness of an evil
makes it less fearful. What worlds of men are gone before us ;
yea, how many thousands out of one field ! How many crowns
and sceptres lie piled up at the gates of death, which their owners
have left there as spoils to the conqueror ! Have we been at so
many graves, and so often seen ourselves die in our friends ; and
do we shrink when our course cometh ? Imagine you alone were*
exempted from the common law of mankind, or were condemned
to Methuselah's age ; assure yourself, death is not now so fearful
as your life would then be wearisome.
Think not so much what death is, as from whom he comes,
and for what. We receive even homely messengers from great
persons not without respect to their masters : and what matters
it who he be, so he bring us good news ? What news can be better
than this, that God sends for you to take possession of a king
dom ? Let them fear death which know him but as a pursuivant
sent from hell ; whom their conscience accuses of a life wilfully
filthy, and binds over secretly to condemnation. We know whi
ther we are going, and whom we have believed. Let us pass on
cheerfully through these black gates unto our glory.
Lastly, know that our improvidence only adds terror unto
death. Think of death, and you shall not fear it. Do you not

158 Practical Works. [Decade II.
see, that even bears and tigers seem not terrible to those that
live with them? How have we seen their keepers sport with
them, when the beholders durst scarce trust their chain? Be
acquainted with death; though he look grim upon you at the
first, you shall find him, yea, you shall make him a good com
panion. Familiarity cannot stand with fear.
These are receipts enow. Too much store doth rather over
whelm than satisfy. Take but these, and I dare promise you
security.
THE SECOND DECADE.

TO SIR ROBERT DARCYo.
Epistle I. — The estate qf a true but weak Christian.
If you ask how I fare : sometimes, no man better ; and, if the
fault were not my own, always.
Not that I can command health, and bid the world smile when
I list. How possible is it for a man to be happy without these,
yea, in spite of them ! These things can neither augment nor
impair those comforts that come ¦from above. What use, what
sight, is there of the stars when the sun shines ? Then only can I
find myself happy, when, overlooking these earthly things, I can
fetch my joy from heaven.
I tell him that knows it, the contentments that earth can afford
her best favourites are weak, imperfect, changeable, momentary,
and such as ever end in complaint ; we sorrow that we had them,
and while we have them we dare not trust them.
Those from above are full and constant. What an heaven do I
feel in myself, when, after many traverses of meditation, I find in
my heart a feeling possession of my God ! when I can walk and
converse with the God of heaven, not without an openness of
heart and familiarity : when my soul hath caught fast and sensible
hold of my Saviour ; and either pulls him down to itself, or rather
lifts up itself to him, and can and dare secretly avouch, I know
whom I have believed : when I can look upon all this inferior
creation with the eyes of a stranger, and am transported to my
home in my thoughts ; solacing myself in the view and meditation
of my future glory, and that present of the saints : when I see
i [One ofthe officers in attendance on Prince Henry.]

Epist. I.] Practical Works. 159
wherefore I was made, and my conscience tells me I have done
that for which I came ; done it, not so as I can boast, but so as it
is accepted ; while my weaknesses are pardoned, and my acts
measured by my desires, and my desires by their sincerity :
lastly, when 1 can find myself, upon holy resolution, made firm and
square, fit to entertain all events ; the good, with moderate re
gard, the evil, with courage and patience ; both with thanks ;
strongly settled to good purposes ; constant and cheerful in devo
tion ; and, in a word, ready for God, yea full of God.
Sometimes I can be thus, and pity the poor and miserable
prosperity of the godless, and laugh at their months of vanity,
and sorrow at my own.
But then again (for why should I shame to confess it?) the
world thrusts itself betwixt me and heaven, and by his dark
and indigested parts eclipseth that light which shined to my soul.
Now, a senseless dulness overtakes me, and besots me : my lust to
devotion is little ; my joy, none at all : God's face is hid, and I
am troubled. Then I begin to compare myself with others, and
think, "Are all men thus blockish and earthen? or am 1 alone
worse than the rest, and singular in my wretchedness 1" Now I
carry my carcass up and down carelessly ; and, as dead bodies are
rubbed without heat, I do in vain force upon myself delights which
others laugh at. I endeavour my wonted work, but without an
heart. There is nothing is not tedious to me ; no, not myself.
Thus I am, till I single myself out alone to him that alone can
revive me. I reason with myself, and confer with him : I chide
myself, and entreat him : and, after some spiritual speeches in
terchanged, I renew my familiarity with him ; and he the tokens
of his love to me. Lo, then I live again; and applaud myself in
this happiness, and wish it might ever continue ; and think basely
of the world in comparison of it.
Thus I hold on, rising and falling; neither know whether I
should more praise God for thus much fruition of him, or blame
myself for my inconstancy in good ; more rejoice, that sometimes
I am well, or grieve, that I am not so always. I strive and wish,
rather than hope, for better.
This is our warfare : we may not look to triumph always : we
must smart sometimes and complain ; and then again rejoice that
we can complain ; and grieve, that we can rejoice no more, and
that we can grieve no more. Our hope is, if we be patient, we
shall once be constant.

160 Practical Works. [Decade II.
TO SIR EDMUND BACON'.
Epistle II. — Ofthe benefit of retiredness and secresy.
Suspect, if you can, that because now many cold winds blow
betwixt us my affection can be cooler to you. True love is like a
strong stream, which, the farther it is from the head, runs with
more violence. The thoughts of those pleasures I was wont to
find in your presence were never so delightful as now, when I am
barred from renewing them. I wish me with you ; yea, if I could
or might wish to change, I should wish me yourself.
To live hidden was never but safe and pleasant, but now so
much better as the world is worse. It is an happiness not to be a
witness of the mischief of the times, which it is hard to see and
be guiltless. Your philosophical cell is a safe shelter from tumults,
from vices, from discontentments. Besides that lively, honest, and
manly pleasure, which arises from the gain of knowledge in the
deep mysteries of nature ; how easy is it in that place to live free
from the common cares, from the infection of common evils ! Whe
ther the Spaniard gain or save by his peace, and how he keeps
it ; and whether it were safer for the States to lay down arms, and
be at once still and free ; whether the emperor's truce with the
Turk were honourable and seasonable ; or whether Venice have
won or lost by her late jars ; are thoughts that dare not look in
at those doors. Who is envied and who pitied at court ; who buys
hopes and kindness dearest ; who lays secret mines to blow up
another, that himself may succeed, can never trouble you : these
cares dare not enter into that sanctuary of peace. Thence you
can see how all that live public are tossed in these waves, and pity
them. For great places have seldom safe and easy entrances ; and,
which is worse, great charges can hardly be plausibly wielded
without some indirect policies. Alas ! their privileges cannot coun
tervail their toil. Weary days and restless nights, short lives and
long cares, weak bodies and unquiet minds, attend lightly on
greatness : either clients break their sleep in the morning, or the
intention of their mind drives it off from the first watch : either
suits or complaints thrust themselves into their recreations, and
packets of letters interrupt their meals : it is ever term with them,
without vacation : their businesses admit no night, no holiday.
' [The second baronet of the family.]

Epist. II.] Practical Works. 161
Lo, your privacy frees you from all this, and whatever other
glorious misery. There you may sleep, and eat, and honestly
disport, and enjoy yourself, and command both yourself and others :
and, while you are happy, you live out of the reach of envy, un
less my praises send that guest thither: which I should justly
condemn as the fault of my love. No man offers to undermine
you ; none to disgrace you : you could not want these inconveni
ences abroad.
Yea, let a man live in the open world but as a looker on, he
shall be sure not to want abundance of vexations. An ill mind
holds it an easy torment to hve in continual sight of evil, if not
rather a pleasure ; but to the well-disposed, it is next to hell.
Certainly, to live among toads and serpents is a paradise to this.
One jests pleasantly with his Maker ; another makes himself sport
with Scripture : one fills his mouth with oaths of sound ; another
scoffs at the religious : one speaks villany ; another laughs at it ;
a third defends it : one makes himself a swine ; another a devil :
who that is not all earth can endure this ? who cannot wish him
self rather a desolate hermit, or a close prisoner ?
Every evil we see doth either vex or infect us. Your retired-
ness avoids this ; yet so, as it equally escapes all the evils of soli
tariness. You are full of friends, whose society, intermixed with
your closeness, makes you to want little of public. The desert is
too wild ; the city too populous : the country is only fit for rest.
I know there want not some obscure corners, so haunted with dul
ness, that as they yield no outward unquietness, so no inward
contentment : yours is none of those ; but such as strives rather,
with the pleasure of it, to requite the solitariness. The court is
for honour ; the city for gain ; the country for quietness : a
blessing that need not, in the judgment of the wisest, yield to the
other two. Yea, how many have we known, that, having nothing
but a cote of thatch to hide them from heaven, yet have pitied the
careful pomp of the mighty ! How much more may those which
have full hands and quiet hearts pity them both !
I do not so much praise you in this, as wonder at you. I know
many upon whom the conscience of their wants forces a necessary
obscurity ; who, if they can steal a virtue out of necessity, it is
well : but I nowhere know so excellent parts shrouded in such
willing secresy. The world knows you, and wants you ; and yet
you are voluntarily hid. Love yourself still ; and make much of
this shadow ; until our common mother call you forth to her ne-
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. M

162 Practical Works. [Decade II.
cessary service, and charge you to neglect yourself to pleasure
her : which once done, you know where to find peace. Whether
others applaud you, I am sure you shall yourself : and I shall still
magnify you ; and, what I can, imitate you.

TO MR. JOHN WHITING.
Epistle III.r — An apologetical discourse ofthe marriage of
ecclesiastical persons.
I know not whether this quarrel be worthy of an answer, or
rather of a silent scorn ; or if an answer, whether merry or se
rious. I do not willingly suffer my pen to wade into questions :
yet this argument seems shallow enough for an epistle. If I free
not this truth, let me be punished with a divorce.
Some idle tabletalk calls us to plead for our wives. Perhaps
some gallants grudge us one, who can be content to allow them
selves more. If they thought wives curses, they would afford
them us.
Our marriage is censured, I speak boldly, of none but them,
which never knew to live chastely in marriage ; who never knew
that canonist's8 old and true distinction of virginity4. What care
we for their censure, where God approves ?
But some, perhaps, maintain it out of judgment : bid them make
much of that which Paul tells them is a doctrine of devils.
Were it not for this opinion, the church of Rome would want one
evident brand of her antichristianism. Let their shavelings speak
for themselves, upon whom their unlawful vow hath forced a wilful
and impossible necessity. I leave them to scan the old rule of In
turpi voto muta decretuma ; if they had not rather, Caute si non
caste. Even moderate papists will grant us free, because not bound
by vow ; no not so far as those old Germans, pro posse et nosse.
Or what care we if they grant it not ? while we hold us firm to
r [Written twelve years ago. See the si ideo nubat ut filios pariat ad justi-
Dedication to " The Honour of the mar- tiam." B>id. [Deer, cum glossis, Par.
ried Clergy," 1628.] 1612. p. 1983.]
¦ Bartolom. Brixiensis in Gratianum. "'Profitoito-continentianicorporum;
[Argent. 1472.] incontinentia debacchantur animorum."
"Vireinitas-[Carnis' De Roman- cler- Salvianus. [Salv.
I Mentis." Massil. de Gub. Dei, lib. v.]
Caus. 33. q. 5. c. Tunc salvabitur. » [Isid. Hisp. de contemptu mundi.
"Muliersuam virginitatem bene servat, Op. Col. Agr. 1617, p. 230 B.]

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 163
that sure rule of Basil the great ; " He that forbids what God
enjoins, or enjoins what God forbids, let him be accursed"." I
pass not what I hear men or angels say, while I hear God say,
Let him be the husband qf one wife. That one word shall con
firm me against the barking of all impure mouths. He that made
marriage says it is honourable : what care we for the dishonour
of those that corrupt it? Yea, that which nature noteth with
shame God mentions with honour, Tt/xio? fj Koiriny ; Gregory2,
with the title of opus castum ; Paphnutiusa, of Loncppoo-wr], chastity.
But if God should be judge of this controversy, it were soon at an
end ; who in the time even of that legal strictness allowed wedlock
to the ministers of his sanctuary. Let cardinal Panormitan be
heard speak. " Continency," saith he, " in clergymen is neither
of the substance of their order, or appointed by any law of Godb."
And Gratian, out of Augustin, yet more : " Their marriage," saith
he, " is neither forbidden by legal, nor evangelical, nor apostolic
authority0." God never imposed this law of continence : who
then ? the Church d : as if a good spouse would gainsay what her
husband willeth. But, how well? Hear, 0 ye papists, the judg
ment of your own cardinal, and confess your mouths stopped.
" But I believe," saith he, " it were for the good and safety of
many souls, and would be a wholesome law, that those which
would might marry : for that, as experience teacheth us, a con
trary effect follows upon that law of continency ; since at this
day they live not spiritually, neither are clean, but are defiled
with unlawful copulation, to their great sin : whereas with their
own wife it might be chastity e." Is this a cardinal, think you, or
x ["Qui prohibet nos facere quod a de jure divino." Panor. [In Deer. Greg.
Domino praeceptum est vel rursum im- IX. lib. iii. tit. iii. c. 6.]
perat facere quod Dominus fieri prohi- c " Copula sacerdotalis, [vel consan-
buit execrabilis," &c. Basil, de Instit. guineorum,] nee legali, nee evangelica,
Mon. u. 14. apud Beg. Bened. Col. Agr. vel apostolica authoritate prohibetur."
1575. p. 551.] 26. q. 2. u.i. Sors, ex Aug. [Par. 1612.
y Heb. xiii. 4. "The marriage bed is p. 1585.]
honourable." d Only "ex statuto Ecclesiae." Du-
z "Non quia peccatum sit conjugibus rand. 4. Dist. 37. q. 1. Thom. Aqu. in
commisceri : hoc enim opus castum non Sec. 2. q. 88. art. 11.
habet culpamin conjuge," &c. Greg, in e "Sed credo pro bono et salute esse
Psal. Pcenit. [Paris. 1705. torn. iii. pars animarum, quod esset salubre statutum ;
¦1. col. 49.] ut volentes continere et magis mereri
a ^axppoaivnv 8e ixdAet Hal tV ttji relinquere[n]tur voluntati eorum ; non
ixiutii.ov ywaiKbs avv4\€vatv. Socrat. Hist, valentes autem continere, possint con-
Eccles. [I. n. 39. 14. Oxon. 1844.] trahere : quia, experientia docente, con-
¦> "Continentia non est in clericis se- trarius prorsus effectus sequitur ex ilia
cularibus, de substantia ordinis,  nee lege continents ; cum, hodie, nonvivant
M 2

164 Practical Works. [Decade II.
a Huguenot? But if this red hat be not worthy of respect, let a
pope himself speak out of Peter's chair; Pius the Second, as
learned as hath sit in that room this thousand years : " Marriage,"
saith he, " upon great reason, was taken from the clergy ; but,
upon greater reason, is to be restored f." What need we other
judge? How just this law is, you see ; see now how ancient ; for some
doctrines have nothing to plead for them but time. Age hath
been an old refuge for falsehood. Tertullian's rule is true :
" That which is first is truest." What the ancient Jewish pre
lates did, Moses is clear. What did the apostles ? Doth not
Pauls tell us, that both the rest of the apostles, and the brethren
of the Lord, and Cephas, had wives ; and, which is more, carried
them still along in their travels ? For that childish elusion of
abeXqbrjv yvvaiKah, who can abide but to laugh at ? Doth not
Clemens' of Alexandria, a father not of more antiquity than
credit, tell us, that Peter, Philip, and Paul himself, were married ?
and this last, though unlikest, how is it confirmed by Ignatius, in
his Epistle to the Philadelphians ! Yea, their own cardinal, learned
Cajetank, doth both avouch and evince it.
This was their practice : what was their constitution ? Look in
these canons which the Romish church fathers upon the apostles ;
and Franciscus Turrian, their Jesuit, sweats to defend it in a
whole volume. There you find, Canon V, enacted, that "no
bishop, presbyter, deacon, shall forsake his wife," Trpoqbao-ei ev\a-
fidas, " in pretence of religion, upon pain of deposition1." It
would move laughter to see how the Jesuits gnaw upon this bone,
and suck in nothing but the blood of their own jaws ; while the
sixth general council avers and proclaims this sensetruly apo
stolical, in spite of all contradiction"1.
spiritualiter, nee sint mundi, sed macu- ad mortem duci cerneret, hortatum et
lantur illicito coitu, cum eorum gravis- consolatum his verbis : Mep.vnao, £ outtj,
simo peccato : ubi, cum propria uxore toB Kvpiov.
esset castitas." Panorm. de Cler. conjug. k In illud, ad Philip, [c. iv. 3.] ai£vye
cap. Cum olim, [loco supra citato.] yvhait.
1 " Sacerdotibus, magna ratione, sub- ' 'EiriVitOTros, f) npta&vrfpos i) Sidnovos
latas nuptias ; majori, restituendas vi- tJ)i» IoutoS yvvaina p.)) iitfiaWcTa (non
deri." In the Eecord of Platina himself, ejiciat) Trpo<pd<r€t tb\a/Sclas : 'Edv Sh
in vita Piill. [Col. 1600. p. 329.] &cJ9aA.r), lupopigaBw ; imfxtvav Se, Kofloi-
e Mil oiik exo^v ifrvatav ct8eA<f>V pelaSu. Can. Apost. 5. [Labbe, Concilia,
yvvaMa irepidyetv, &c. 1 Cor. ix. 5. &c. vol. i. col. 25.]
h Pvhemists read it, a woman, a sister. m Constant. 6. 1. iii. Can. Quoniam
1 Clemens, citatus etiam ab Euseb. 1. Canon Apostolicje aicpi&elas. " Nos, se-
iii. c. 30. " Petrum, cum uxorem suam quentes veterem canonem apostolicse

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 165
Follow the times now, and descend lower ; what did the ages
succeeding ? Search records : whatever some palpably-foisted
epistles of popes insinuate, they married without scruple of any
contrary injunction. Many of those ancients admired virginity,
but imposed it not. Amongst the rest, Origen", though himself
a wilful eunuch, is fain to persuade the sons of clergymen not to
be proud of their parentage. After this, when the fathers of
the Nicene council went about to enact a law of continency,
Socrates the historian expresses it thus: "It seemeth good,"
saith he, " to the bishops, to bring in a new law into the church0."
It was then new, and they but would have brought it in ; there
fore, before it was not : where we know how PaphnutiusP, him
self a virgin, famous for holiness, famous for miracles, rising,
efidct na/cpa, " cried aloud," that they ought not to lay this /3apw
fyybv, " heavy yoke," upon men of the church. His arguments
won assent ; he spake, and prevailed ; so this liberty was still
continued and confirmed. If this be not plain enough, holy
Athanasius, a witness past exception, shall serve for a thousand
histories till his age. " Many bishops," saith he, " have not
married ; and contrarily, monks have been fathers of children ;
as, contrarily, you see bishops the fathers of children, and monks
that have not sought posterity")."
Would you yet have instances of the former and the next age ?
Here you have Numidicus r, the martyr, a married presbyter ;
Cheremon s, of Nilus, a married bishop ; Demetrianus*, bishop
of Antioch, whose son Domnus succeeded Paulus Samosatenus ;
Philoromus and Phileas, bishops of the Thmuites ; Gabinius,
brother of Eutychianus, bishops of Rome ; the father of Na-
aKptfielas, et constitutions sacrorum nodo habendum pro castitate cum pro-
viroram, legales nuptias amodo valere pria uxore concubitum. Soc. 1. i. c. ii.
volumus," &c. [Chemnit. Exam. Cone. i "Multi ex episcopis matrimonia
Trid. Genev. 1630. p. 504.] noninierunt : Monachi, contra, parentes
" " Qui a Christianis parentibus enu- liberorum facti sunt : quemadmodum,
triti sunt, &c. maxime si fuerint ex vicissim, episcopos fihorum patres, et
patribus sacerdotali sede dignificatis. i. monachos generis potestatem non quse-
Episcopatus, presbyteratus, aut diaco- sivisse animadvertas." Athanas. Epist.
natus, ne glorientur." Orig. Tr. 9. in ad Dracont. [Paris. 1627. vol. i. p.
Matt. 958.]
° "Visum erat episcopis legem novam r " Numidicus presbyter, qui uxorem
introducere in ecclesiam." Socr. 1. i. c. concrematam et adheerenteni lateri hetus
11. 38. 45. aspexit." Cypr. 1. iv. Ep. 10. [Epist. 35.
p " Signa per Paphnutium, non minus, (Ed. Oxon. 40.) Paris. 1726. p. 49.]
quam dudum per apostolos fiebant." " Ex Dionysio. Euseb. 1. vi. c. 42.
Ruff. 1. i. c.4. " Paphnutius, miraculis et ' Euseb. 1. vii. cap. 30. 363. 25,
pietate clarus, obtinuit in Nicena sy-

166 Practical Works. [Decade II.
zianzen", Basil, and the other Gregory*, Hilarius, and that good
Spiridion, bishop of Cyprus, of whom Sozomen gives so direct
testimony y. To omit others, what should I speak of many bishops
of Rome, whose sons, not spurious as nowadays, but as pope Urban
himself witnesses, "lawfully begot in wedlock2," followed their
fathers in the pontifical chair ? The reason whereof, that pope
himself ingenuously rendereth ; for that " marriage was every
where lawful to the clergy before the prohibition," which must
needs be late ; "and in the eastern church to this day is allowed3."
What need we more testimonies, or more examples ? Whatever
Heliodorusb, bishop of Trica, a man fitter for a wanton love-
story than a church controversy, brought into the church of
Thessalia, Socrates thus flatly writes of those bishops of his
time : " for many of them, in the place and function of bishop,
beget children of their lawful wives c."
This was practised : see what was decreed in that sixth general
council"1 of Constantinople to this purpose, to the confusion of all
repliers. If any protestant church in Christendom can make a
more peremptory, more full and absolute, more cautelous decree,
for the marriage of ecclesiastical persons, let me be condemned as
faithless : a place, I grant, miserably handled by our adversaries ;
u Euseb. 1. viu. c. 9. 386. 43. 387. 1. uxore legitima procreant." Socrat. lib. v.
"Gregorius vero apud Nazianzon op- cap. 22. 296. 18.
pidum in locum patris episcopus sub- d The words of that Council are thus
rogatus." Ruffin. Hist. Eccl. 1. ii. c. 9. truly translated by Chemnitius : [Ex-
[Opuscc. Par. 1580. p. 23S.] amen Cone. Trid. p. 504. col. 2.] "Quo-
x " Greg. Nyssen, frater Basilii, teste niam in Romana Ecclesia, loco canonis
Nicephoro, uxoratus." [Niceph. lib. xi. seu decreti, traditum esse cognovimus,
c. 19. Par. 1630. vol. ii. p. 137. J ut ii, qui digni habendi sunt ordinatione
y " Uxorem et liberos habuit : sed diaconi vel presbyteri, profiteantur se
non propterea fuit in rebus et exercitiis demceps cum uxoribus suis non con-
diurnis inferior vel deterior." Sozom. gressuros [seu concubituros] ; nos, se-
[yapsrfyv Kal iraTSas €xwv a*.\' ob ¦jrapa, quentes veterem canonem apostolicse,
toCto to. Beta x*tp">v. Sozom. Hist. Eccl. sincerse, exquisite et ordinate constitu-
lib. i. cap. 11.] tionis, legitimas sacrorum virorum
1 " De legitimis conjugiis nati." cohabitationes conjugales etiam ex
a " Cum ergo ex sacerdotibus nati in hodierno die in posterum valere ratas et
summos Pontifices leguntur esse pro- firmas esse volumus ; nullo modo eorum
moti, non sunt intelligendi de fomica- cum uxoribus propriis conjunotionem
tione sed de legitimis conjugiis nati ; quae seu copulationem dissolventes 
sacerdotibus ante prohibitionem ubique Itaque, si quis dignus inveniatur, &c.
licitaerant, et in Orientali Ecclesia usque is minime prohibendus est ad hunc
hodie eis licere probantur." [Grat. Deer, gradum ascendere, ideo quod cum legi-
pars 1.] Dist. Ivi. Cenoman. [cap. 13.] tima uxore cohabitet : nee tempore
b The author of the Ethiopic history, ordinationis suae postuletur ab eo, seu
[Soc. v. 22. 297. 1.] cogatur ut profiteatur quo abstinere
0 " Nam non pauci illorum, dum velit aut debeat legitimo congressu cum
episcopatum gerunt, etiam liberos ex propria uxore."

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 167
and because they cannot blemish it enough, indignly torn out of
the Councils ? What dare not impudency do ; against all evidences
of Greek copies e, against their own Gratian, against pleas of
antiquity. This is the readiest way : whom they cannot answer,
to burn ; what they cannot shift off, to blot out ; and to cut the
knot which they cannot untie.
The Romanists of the next age were somewhat more equal :
who, seeing themselves pressed with so flat a decree, confirmed
by authority of emperors, as would abide no denial, began to
distinguish upon the point; limiting this liberty only to the
eastern church, and granting that all the clergy of the east might
marry, not theirs. So pope Stephen the Second freely confesses :
"The tradition," saith he, "of the eastern churches is otherwise
than that of the Roman church : for their priests, deacons, or
subdeacons are married; but in this church, or the western,
no one of the clergy, from the subdeacon to the bishop, hath
leave to marry f. Liberally, but not enough ; and if he yield
this, why not more ? Shall that be lawful in the east which
in the west is not? Do the gospels or laws of equity alter,
according to the four corners of the world ? Doth God make
difference betwixt Greece and England ? If it be lawful, why not
everywhere ? if unlawful, why is it done anywhere ? So then you
see we differ not from the Church in this, but from the Romish
church. But this sacred council doth not only universally ap
prove this practice with pain of deposition to the gainsayers, but
avouches it for a decree apostolical. Judge now, whether this
one authority be not enough to weigh down an hundred petty con
venticles, and many legions, if there had been many, of private
contradictions. Thus, for seven hundred years you find nothing but open free
dom. All the scuffling arose in the eighth age ; wherein yet this
violent imposition found many and learned adversaries, and durst
not be obtruded at once. Lo, even then Gregory the Third,
writing to the bishops of Bavaria, gives this disjunct charge :
" Let none keep a harlot or a concubine ; but either let him live
chastely or marry a wife ; whom it shall not be lawful for him to
e Citat. a Nilo Thessalonicensi. vel Occidentalium, nullus sacerdotum,
f "Aliter se Orientalium habet tra- a subdiacooo usque ad episcopum, licen-
ditio ecclesiarum ; aliter hujus sancte tiam habet conjugium sortiendi." [Grat.
Romanse Eccleaise : nam, earum sacer- Deer. par. i.] Dist. xxxi. [cap. 14. ut
dotes, diaconi, atque_ subdiaconi, matri- supra, col. 167.]
moniocopulantur ; istius autem Ecclesise,

168 Practical Works. [Decade II.
forsakes:" according to that rule of clerks cited from Isidore11,
and renewed in the Council of Mentz ', to the perpetual shame
of our juggling adversaries. Nothing can argue guiltiness so
much as unjust expurgations. Isidore saith, " Let them contain,
or let them marry but onek :" they cite him, "Let them contain,"
and leave out the rest : somewhat worse than the devil cited
scripture. But I might have spared all this labour of writing, could I
persuade whosoever either doubts or denies this, to read over
that one epistle, which Huldericus1, bishop of Auspurge, wrote,
learnedly and vehemently, to pope Nicholas the First, in this
subject; which if it do not answer all cavils, and satisfy all
readers, and convince all (not wilful) adversaries, let me be cast
in so just a cause. There you shall see how just, how expedient,
how ancient this liberty is, together with the feeble and injurious
grounds of forced continency. Read it, and see whether you
can desire a better advocate.
After him, so strongly did he plead and so happily, for two
hundred years more this freedom still blessed those parts, yet
not without extreme opposition. Histories are witnesses of the
busy and not unlearned combats of those times in this argument.
But now, when the body of antichristianism began to be com
plete, and to stand up in his absolute shape, after a thousand
years from Christ, this liberty, which before wavered under Ni
cholas I, now, by the hands of Leo IX, Nicholas II, and that
brand of hell, Gregory VII, was utterly ruined, wives debarred,
single life urged: "A good turn for vvhoremasters," saith Aven-
tine, '"who now, for one wife, might have six hundred bedfel
lows"1." But how approved of the better sort, appears (be
sides that the churches did ring of him eachwhere for Antichrist)
s " Nemo scorta, aut concubinam, ' Whether Huldericus, or, as he is
alat ; quisque aut caste vivat, aut somewhere entitled, Volusianus, I in-
uxorem ducat ; quam repudiare fas non quire not : the matter admits of no
esto." [Aventini Annales Boiorum ; lib. doubt. Huldericus Episcopus Augusts.
iii Bas. 1615. p. 168.] Anno 86o. Maeas gylv- in sua Germa.
h Dist. xxm. Grat. par. i. cap. 3. ut ma. [0p. Bas. 1=571. p. 1053.] Hedion.
supra, col. 116. Eccl. Hist lib. viii ^ ^ FoX; in Actg
1 Anno 813. aud Monum. [book iii. sub anno 858.]
k Clenci " castimoniam inviolati cor- hath it fully translated.
poris perpetuo conservare studeant ; aut m Aventinus, lib. 5. ut supra, p. 355-
certe unius matrimonii vinculo fcede- " Gratum scortatoribus, quibus, pro una
rentur," Isid. Hisp. Reg. Cleric. [De uxore, sexcentas jam mulierculas inire
Ecclesiasticis Officiis ; lib. ii. cap. z. Col. licebat."
Agr. 1617. p. 401 E.]

Epist. IV.] Practical Works. 169
in that at the council of Worms", the French and German bi
shops deposed this Gregory ; in this name, amongst other quar
rels, for "separating man and wife0." Violence did this, not
reason : neither was God's will here questioned, but the pope's
wilfulness. What broils hereon ensued, let Aventine witnessP.
The bickerings of our English clergy with their Dunstans
about this time are memorable in our own histories ; which teach
us how late, how repiningly, how unjustly, they stooped under
this yokel. I had rather send my reader to Bale and Fox, than
abridge their Monuments to enlarge mine own.
I have, I hope, fetched this truth far enough, and deduced it
low enough, through many ages, to the midst of the rage of anti
christian tyranny. There left our liberty ; there began their
bondage. Our liberty is happily renewed with the gospel : what
God, what his Church hath ever allowed, we do enjoy. Wherein
we are not alone : the Greek church, as large for extent as the
Roman, and in some parts of it better for their soundness, do
thus ; and thus have ever done.
Let papists and atheists say what they will, it is safe erring
with God and his purer Church.

TO MY SISTER MRS. B. BRINSLY.
Epistle IV. — Ofthe sorrow not to be repented of.
It is seldom seen that a silent grief speeds well : for either a
man must have strong hands of resolution to strangle it in his
bosom, or else it drives him to some secret mischief; whereas,
sorrow revealed, is half remedied, and ever abates in the uttering.
Your grief was wisely disclosed, and shall be as strangely an
swered. I am glad of your sorrow ; and should weep for you, if you
" Anno 1076. nensi : " Prohibuit uxores sacerdotibus,
0 "Maritos ab uxoribus separat." ante non prohibitas." [Savile, Rerum
[Aventin. lib. v. p. 349.] Anglicarum Scriptores, Francof. 1601.
P Ex interdicto sacerdotum conjugio, p. 378] "Anselm," saith that histo-
" gravissima seditio gregem Christi per- rian, "was the first that forbad mar-
culit : nee unquam talis lues populum riageto the clergy of England ;" and this
Christi afflixit." Aventin. lib. v., [ut su- was about the year of our Lord 1080 ;
pra, p. 346, as quoted in Chemnitius, p. "till then ever free." Item Fabianus
512.] liberos ait fuisse sacerdotes per annos
1 Henric. Huntingdon, de Anselmo, 1080.
1. vii. de an. 1100, in Synodo Londi-

170 Practical Works. [Decade II.
did not thus mourn. Your sorrow is, that you cannot enough
grieve for your sins. Let me tell you, that the angels themselves
sing at this lamentation ; neither doth the earth afford any so
sweet music in the ears of God. This heaviness is the way to
joy. Worldly sorrow is worthy of pity, because it leadeth to
death : but this deserves nothing but envy and gratulation. ^
If those tears were common, hell would not so enlarge itself.
Never sin, repented of, was punished; and never any thus
mourned, and repented not. Lo, you have done that which you
grieve you have not done. That good God, whose act is his
will, accounts of our will as our deed. If he required sorrow
proportionable to the heinousness of our sins, there were no end
of mourning; now, his mercy regards not so much the measure
as the truth of it ; and accounts us to have that which we com
plain to want.
I never knew any truly penitent, which, in the depth of his
remorse, was afraid of sorrowing too much ; nor any unrepent
ant, which wished to sorrow more. Yea, let me tell you, that
this sorrow is better and more, than that deep heaviness for sin
which you desire. Many have been vexed with an extreme
remorse for some sin, from the gripes of a galled conscience ;
which yet never came where true repentance grew : in whom,
the conscience plays at once the accuser, witness, judge, tor
mentor : but, an earnest grief for the want of grief was never
found in any but a gracious heart.
You are happy, and complain. Tell me, I beseech you :
this sorrow, which you mourn to want, is it a grace of the Spirit
of God, or not ? If not, why do you sorrow to want it ! If it be,
0 how happy is it to grieve for want of grace ! The God of all
truth and blessedness hath said, Blessed are those that hunger
and thirst after righteousness : and, with the same breath,
Blessed are they that mourn ; for they shall be comforted. You
say, you mourn ; Christ saith, you are blessed : you say, you
mourn ; Christ saith, you shall be comforted. Either now distrust
your Saviour, or else confess your happiness ; and, with patience,
expect his promised consolation.
What do you fear ? you see others stand like strong oaks ;
unshaken, unremoved : you are but a reed, a feeble plant, tossed
and bowed with every wind, and with much agitation bruised :
lo, you are in tender and favourable hands, that never brake any
whom their sins bruised ; never bruised any whom temptations

Epist. V.] Practical Works. 1 71
have bowed. You are but flax, and your best is not a flame, but
an obscure smoke of grace : lo, here his Spirit is as a soft wind,
not as cold water ; he will kindle, will never quench you.
The sorrow you want is his gift : take heed, lest while you vex
yourself with dislike of the measure, you grudge at the Giver.
Beggars may not choose. This portion he hath vouchsafed to
give you : if you have any, it is more than he was bound to
bestow ; yet you say, " What ! no more ? " as if you took it
unkindly that he is no more liberal. Even these holy discontent
ments are dangerous. Desire more, so much as you can ; but
repine not, when you do not attain : desire ; but so, as you be
free from impatience, free from unthankfulness. Those that
have tried can say how difficult it is to complain with due reser
vation of thanks. Neither know I whether is worse, to long for
good things impatiently, or not at all to desire them.
The fault of your sorrow is rather in your conceit than in
itself. And if indeed you mourn not enough, stay but God's
leisure, and your eyes shall run over with tears. How many do
you see sport with their sins ; yea, brag of them ! how many,
that should die for want of pastime, if they might not sin freely,
and more freely talk of it ! What a saint are you to these, that
can droop under the memory of the frailty of youth, and never
think you have spent enow tears.
Yet so I encourage you in what you have, as one that persuades
you not to desist from suing for more. It is good to be covetous of
grace, and to have our desires herein enlarged with our receipts.
Weep still, and still desire to weep : but let your tears be as the
rain in a sunshine, comfortable and hopeful ; and let not your
longing savour of murmur or distrust. These tears are reserved :
this hunger shall be satisfied : this sorrow shall be comforted.
There is nothing betwixt God and you, but time : prescribe not
to his wisdom : hasten not his mercy. His grace is enough for
you : his glory shall be more than enough.

TO MR. HUGH CHOLMLEY.
Epistle V. — Concerning the metaphrase ofthe Psalms.
Fear not my immoderate studies. I have a body that controls
me enough in these courses : my friends need not. There is
nothing whereof I could sooner surfeit, if I durst neglect my body
to satisfy ray mind : but, while I affect knowledge, my weakness

172 Practical Works. [Decade II.
checks me, and says, " Better a little learning, than no health."
I yield, and patiently abide myself debarred of my chosen felicity.
The little I can get, I am no niggard of: neither am I more
desirous to gather, than willing to impart. The full-handed are
commonly most sparing. We vessels, that have any empty room,
answer the least knock with a hollow noise : you. that are full,
sound not. If we pardon your closeness, you may well bear with
our profusion. If there be any wrong, it is to ourselves, that we
utter what we should lay up. It is a pardonable fault, to do less
good to ourselves, that we may do more to others.
Amongst other endeavours, I have boldly undertaken the holy
metres of David ; how happily, judge you by what you see. There
is none of all my labours so open to all censures ; none, whereof I
would so willingly hear the verdict of the wise and judicious.
Perhaps, some think the verse harsh, whose nice ear regards
roundness more than sense. I embrace smoothness ; but affect it
not. This is the least good quality of a verse that intends any
thing but musical delight.
Others may blame the difficulty of the tunes ; whose humour
cannot be pleased without a greater offence : for, to say truth,
I never could see good verse written in the wonted measures. I
ever thought them most easy, and least poetical.
This fault, if any, will light upon the negligence of our peo
ple, which endure not to take pains for any fit variety. The
French and Dutch have given us worthy examples of diligence
and exquisiteness in this kind. Neither our ears nor voices are
less tunable. Here is nothing wanting, but will to learn. What
is this but to eat the corn out of the ear, because we will not abide
the labour to grind and knead it?
If the question, be whether our verse must descend to them, or
they ascend to it ; wise moderation, I think, would determine it
most equal, that each part should remit somewhat, and both meet
in the midst. Thus I have endeavoured to do, with sincere intent
of their good, rather than my own applause : for it had been easy
to have reached to an higher strain ; but I durst not ; whether
for the grave majesty of the subject or benefit of the simplest
reader. You shall still note that I have laboured to keep David's
entire sense with numbers neither lofty nor slubbered : which
mean is so much more difficult to find, as the business is more
sacred, and the liberty less.

Epist. VI.] Practical Works. 173
Many great wits have undertaken this task : which yet have
either not effected it, or have smothered it in their private desks,
and denied it the common light. Amongst the rest were those
two rare spirits of the Sidneys, to whom poesy was as natural
as it is affected of others : and our worthy friend Mr. Sylvesterr
hath showed me how happily he hath sometimes turned from
his Bartas to the sweet singer of Israel. It could not be, that
in such abundant plenty of poesy this work should have past
unattempted : would God I might live to see it perfected, either
by my own hand or a better !
In the mean time, let me expect your unpartial sentence, both
concerning the form and sense. Lay aside your love for a while >
which too oft blinds judgment. And, as it uses to be done in
most equal proceedings of justice, shut me out of doors while my
verse is discussed ; yea, let me receive, not your censure only, but
others' by you : this once, as you love me, play both the informer
and the judge. Whether you allow it, you shall encourage me ;
or correct, you shall amend me : either your stars or your spitss,
that I may use Origen's notes, shall be welcome to my margent.
It shall be happy for us, if God shall make our poor labours any
way serviceable to his Name and Church.

TO MR. SAMUEL SOTHEBY.
Epistle VI. — A preface to his relation qf the Russian affairs.
Travel perfecteth wisdom ; and observation gives perfection to
travel : without which a man may please his eyes, not feed his
brain; and, after much earth measured, shall return with a weary
body and an empty mind Home is more safe, more pleasant,
but less fruitful of experience : but to a mind not working and
discursive, all heavens, all earths are alike.
And as the end of travel is observation, so the end of ob
servation is the informing of others : for what is our knowledge,
if smothered in ourselves, so as it is not known to more ? Such
secret delight can content none but an envious nature.
You have breathed many and cold airs, gone far, seen much,
heard more, observed all. These two years you have spent in imi
tation of Nebuchadnezzar's seven ; conversing with such creatures
r [Joshua Sylvester, translator of Guil, de Sallust. du Bartas, 1605. See the
lines addressed to him, Vol. ix. p, 706.] s Asteriscus. Veru.
VOL. VI.

174 Practical Works. [Decade IL
as Paul fought with at Ephesus. Alas ! what a face, yea what a
back of a church have you seen ! what manners ! what people !
amongst whom, ignorant superstition strives with close atheism ;
treachery with cruelty; one devil with another! while truth
and virtue do not so much as give any challenge of resistance.
Returning once to our England, after this experience, I imagine
you doubted whether you were on earth or in heaven.
Now then, if you will hear me whom you were wont ; as you
have observed what you have seen, and written what you have
observed; so publish what you have written: it shall be a grateful
labour to us, to posterity.
I am deceived, if the fickleness of the Russian state have not
yielded more memorable matter of history than any other in our
age, or perhaps many centuries of our predecessors. How shall
I think but that God sent you thither before these broils, to be
the witness, the register of so famous mutations ? He loves to have
those just evils which he doth in one part of the world known to
the whole, and those evils which men do in the night of their
secresy brought forth into the theatre of the world ; that the evil
of men's sin, being compared with the evil of his punishment, may
justify his proceedings and condemn theirs.
Your work shall thus honour him; besides your second service
in the benefit of the church : for while you discourse of the open
tyranny of that Russian Nero, John Basilius4 ; the more secret,
no less bloody plots of Boris ; the ill success of a stolen crown,
though set upon the head of an harmless son ; the bold attempts
and miserable end of a false yet aspiring challenge ; the perfidi-
ousness of a servile people, unworthy of better governors ; the
miscarriage of wicked governors, unworthy of better subjects ;
the unjust usurpations of men, just (though late) revenges of
God, cruelty rewarded with blood; wrong claims with overthrow;
treachery with bondage : the reader, with some secret horror,
shall draw in delight; and, with delight, instruction. Neither
know I any relation whence he shall take out a more easy lesson
of justice, of loyalty, of thankfulness.
But, above all, let the world see and commiserate the hard
estate of that worthy and noble secretary, Buchinski". Poor
gentleman ! his distress recalls ever to my thoughts ^Esop's Stork
t [Ivan II. Wasilowich, a monster of Pilgrims, part iii. book iv. c. 9. § 2.]
cruelty; Boris, who usurped the crown. u [See next Epistle.]
Seu an account of them in Parchas's

Epist. VI.] Practical Works. 175
taken amongst the Cranes. He now nourishes his hair under the
displeasure of a foreign prince ; at once in [durance and banish
ment. He served an ill master, but with an honest heart, with
clean hands. The master's injustice doth no more infect a good
servant, than the truth of the servant can justify his ill master. A
had workman may use a good instrument, and ofttimes a clean
napkin wipeth a foul mouth. It joys me yet to think, that his piety,
as it ever held friendship in heaven, so now it wins him friends in
this our other world : lo, even from our island unexpected deliver
ance takes a long flight, and blesseth him beyond hope ; yea,
rather, from heaven by us. That God whom he serves will be
known to those rude and scarce human Christians, for a protector
of innocence, a favourer of truth, a rewarder of piety. The mercy
of our gracious king, the compassion of an honourable counsellor,
the love of a true friend, and, which wrought all and set all on
work, the grace of our good God, shall now loose those bonds, and
give a glad welcome to his liberty, and a willing farewell to his
distress. He shall, I hope, live to acknowledge this ; in the mean
time, I do for him. Those Russian affairs are not more worthy of
your records, than your love to this friend is worthy of mine : for
neither could this large sea drown or quench it ; nor time and ab
sence, which are wont to breed a lingering consumption of friend
ship, abate the heat of that affection which his kindness bred, re
ligion nourished.
Both rareness and worth shall commend this true love ; which,
to say true, hath been now long out of fashion. Never times
yielded more love ; but, not more subtle : for every man loves
himself in another, loves the estate in'the person. Hope of ad
vantage is the loadstone that draws the iron hearts of men ;
not virtue, not desert. No age afforded more parasites, fewer
friends : the most are friendly in sight ; serviceable in expect
ation ; hollow in love ; trustless in experience.
Yet now, Buchinski, see and confess thou hast found one friend,
which hath made thee many; on whom while thou bestowedst
much favour, thou hast lost none.
I cannot but think how welcome liberty, which, though late, yet
now at last hath looked back upon him, shall be to the cell of his
affliction ; when, smiling upon him, she shall lead him by the hand ;
and, like another angel, open the iron gates of his miserable cap
tivity ; and, from those hard prestaves and savage Christians, carry
him, by the hair of the head, into this paradise of God.

176 Practical Works. [Decade II.
In the mean time, 1 have written to him as I could, in a known
language, with an unknown hand ; that my poor letters of gratu-
lation might serve as humble attendants to greater.
For your work, I wish it but such glad entertainment, as the
profit, yea the delight of it deserves ; and fear nothing, but that
this long delay of publication will make it scarce news. We are
all grown Athenians, and account a strange report like to a fish
and a guest. Those eyes and hands stayed it which might do it
best. I cannot blame you, if you think it more honoured by the
stay of his gracious perusal, than it could be by the early accept
ation of the world. Even the cast garments of princes are pre
cious. Others have in part prevented you; whose labours, to
yours, are but as an echo to a long period ; by whom we hear the
last sound of these stirs, ignorant of the beginning. They give us
but a taste in their hand ; you lead us to the open fountain. Let
the reader give you but as much thank as you give him satis
faction, you shall desire no more.
Finally, God give us as much good use as knowledge of his
judgments ; the world, help of your labours ; yourself, encourage
ment ; Buchinski, liberty.

TO STANISLAUS BUCHINSKI*,
LATE SECRETARY TO DEMETRIUS, EMPEROR OP RUSSIA.
Epistle VII. — Ofthe conifort of imprisonment.
The knowledge that the eye gives of the face alone is shallow,
uncertain, imperfect ; for, what is it to see the utmost skin or
favour of the visage, changeable with disease, changeable with pas
sion ? The ear, methinks, doth both most clearly disclose the minds
of others, and knit them faster to ours : which as it is the sense
of discipline, so of friendship ; commanding it even to the absent,
and in the present cherishing it.
This thing we have lately proved in yourself, most noble Sta
nislaus : nearer examples we might have had ; better, we could
not. How many, how excellent things have we heard of you
from our common friend, (though most yours,) which have easily
won our belief, our affections ! how oft, how honourable mention
hath he made of your name ! how frequently, how fervently
* [See Purchas's Pilgrims, part iii. bookiv. c. 9. §3.]

Epist. VII.] Practical Works. 177
have we wished you both safety and liberty ! And now, lo where
she comes, as the Greeks say, &nb p.nxo.vrjs, and visits her forlorn
client. Although I would not doubt to say, that this outward durance
of the body hath seemed more harsh to the beholders than to
yourself; a wise man, and, which is more, a Cbristian ; whose free
soul, in the greatest straits of the outer man, flies over seas and
lands whither it iisteth ; neither can, by any distance of place,
nor swelling of waves, nor height of mountains, nor violence of
enemies, nor strong bars, nor walls, nor guards, be restrained
from what place itself hath chosen. Lo, that enjoys God, enjoys
itself, and his friends ; and so feeds itself with the pleasure of
enjoying them, that it easily either forgets or contemns all other
thing's. It is no paradox to say, that a wise Christian cannot be im
prisoned, cannot be banished, he is ever at home, ever free ; for
both his liberty is within him, and his home is universal.
And what is it, I beseech you, for you have tried, that makes
a prison ?
Is it straitness of walls? then you have as many fellows as
there are men : for how is the soul of every man pent within
these clay-walls of the body ; more close, more obscure ! whence
she may look oft through the grates of her busy thoughts, but
is never released in substance till that God who gave us our
mittimus into this gaol give us our delivery, with, Return, ye
sons qf Adam, Thus, either all men are prisoners, or you are
none. Is it restraint ? How many, especially of that other sex in those
your eastern parts, chamber up themselves for state ; so as they
neither see the sun, nor others them ! how many superstitious
men, for devotion ! how many obscure Aglai, for ease and care
lessness, keep themselves in their own cottage, in their own village,
and never walk forth so much as to the neighbour towns !
And what is your Russia to all her inhabitants but a large
prison, a wide galley ? yea, what other is the world to us ? How
can he complain of straitness or restraint that roves all over the
world and beyond it ? Tyranny may part the soul from the body,
cannot confine it to the body. That which others do for ease,
devotion, state, you do for necessity : why not as willingly, since
you must do it ? Do but imagine the cause other, and your case
is the same with theirs, which both have chosen and delight to
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. N

178 Practical Works. [Decade II.
keep close ; yet hating the name of prisoners, while they embrace
the condition.
But why do I persuade you not to mislike that which I pray
you may forsake ? I had rather you should be no prisoner at all,
than to be a cheerful prisoner upon necessity. If the doors be
open, my persuasion shall not hold you in : rather, our prayers
shall open those doors, and fetch you forth into this common
liberty of men ; which also hath not a little, though an inferior,
contentment. For how pleasant is it to these senses, by which
we men are wont to be led, to see and be seen ; to speak to our
friends, and hear them speak to us ; to touch and kiss the dear
hands of our parents, and with them at last to have our eyes
closed ! Either this shall befall you ; or what hopes, what pains
(I add no more) hath this your careful friend lost ! and we, what
wishes, what consultations ! It shall be, I dare hope, yea be
lieve it.
Only thou, our good God, give such end as thou hast done
entrance into this business ; and so dispose of these likely en
deavours, that whom we love and honour absent, we may at last
in presence see and embrace.

TO MY FATHER-IN-LAW, MR. GEORGE WENYFFE.
Epistle VIII. — Exciting to Christian cheerfdness.
You complain of dulness ; a common disease, and incident to
the best minds, and such as can most contemn vanities.
For the true worldling hunts after nothing but mirth ; neither
cares how lawless his sport be, so it be pleasant; he feigns to
himself false delights, when he wants; and if he can pass the
time, and chase away melancholy, he thinks his day spent hap
pily. And thus it must needs be : while the world is his God,
his devotion can be but his pleasure ; whereas the mortified soul
hath learned to scorn these frivolous and sinful joys ; and affects
either solid delights or none : and had rather be dull for want of
mirth than transported with wanton pleasures. When the world,
like an importunate minstrel, thrusts itself into his chamber, and
offers him music unsought ; if he vouchsafe it the hearing, it is
the highest favour he dare or can yield. He rewards it not ; he
commends it not ; yea, he secretly loathes those harsh and jarring
notes, and rejects them: for he finds a better concert within,

Epist. VIII.] Practical Works. 179
betwixt God and himself, when he hath a little tuned his heart
with meditation.
To speak fully, .the world is like an ill fool in a play ; the
Christian is a judicious spectator, which thinks those jests too
gross to be laughed at ; and therefore entertains that with scorn
which others with applause.
Yet, in truth, we sin, if we rejoice not. There is not more
error in false mirth than in unjust heaviness. If worldlings
offend, that they laugh when they should mourn ; we shall offend
no less, if we droop in cause of cheerfulness. Shall we envy or
scorn to see one joy in red and white dross ; another, in a vain
title ; one, in a dainty dish ; another, in a jest : one, in a book ;
another, in a friend ; one, in a kite ; another, in a dog ; while we
enjoy the God of heaven, and are sorrowful? What dull metal is
this we are made of? We have the fountain of joy, and yet com
plain of heaviness. Is there any joy without God ? Certainly, if
joy be good, and all goodness be from hira ; whence should joy
arise, but from him? And if he be the Author of joy ; how are
we Christians, and rejoice not? What! do we freeze in the fire,
and starve at a feast ? Have we a good conscience, and yet pine
and hang down the head ? When God hath made us happy, do
we make ourselves miserable ?
When I ask my heart David's question, I know not whether I
be more angry or ashamed at the answer ; Why art thou sad,
my soul ? My body, my purse, my fame, my friends ; or perhaps
none of these : only I am sad, because I am. And what if all
these ; what if more ? When 1 come to my better wits, Have I a
Father, an Advocate, a Comforter, a mansion in heaven ? if both
earth and hell conspired to afflict me, my sorrow cannot counter
vail the causes of my joy. Now I can challenge all adversaries ;
and either defy all miseries, or bid all crosses, yea death itself,
welcome. Yet God doth not abridge us of these earthly solaces, which
dare weigh with our discontentments, and sometimes depress the
balance. His greater light doth not extinguish the less. If God
had not thought them blessings, he had not bestowed them : and
how are they blessings, if they delight us not ? Books, friends,
wine, oil, health, reputation, competency, may give occasions, but
not bounds to our rejoicings. We may not make them God's
rivals, but his spokesmen. In themselves, they are nothing ; but
in God, worth our joy. These may be used ; yet so, as they may
N 2

180 Practical Works. [Decade II.
be absent without distraction. Let these go : so God alone be
present with us : it is enough : he were not God, if he were not
all-sufficient. We have him, I speak boldly ; we have him in feel
ing, in faith, in pledges, and earnest ; yea, in possession. Why
do we not enjoy him ? Why do we not shake off that senseless
drowsiness which makes our lives unpleasant ; and leave over all
heaviness to those that want God ; to those that either know
him not, or know him displeased?

TO MR. W. R.
DEDICATED TO MR. THOMAS BURLZ.
Epistle IX. — Consolations of immoderate grief for the death
of friends.
While the stream of sorrow runs full, I know how vain it is to
oppose counsel. Passions must have leisure to digest. Wisdom
doth not more moderate them than time.
At first, it was best to mourn with you, and to mitigate your
sorrow by bearing part ; wherein, would God my burden could
be your ease ! Every thing else is less when it is divided ; and
then is best, after tears, to give counsel.
Yet in these thoughts I am not a httle straited. Before you
have digested grief, advice comes too early ; too late, when you
have digested it : before, it was unseasonable ; after, would be
superfluous : before, it could not benefit you ; after, it may hurt
you, by rubbing up a skinned sore afresh. It is as hard to choose
the season for counsel as to give it ; and that season is, after the
first digestion of sorrow, before the last.
If my letters then meet with the best opportunity, they shall
please me, and profit you ; if not, yet I deserve pardon, that I
wished so.
You had but two jewels, which you held precious ; a wife and
a son : one was yourself divided ; the other, yourself multiplied :
you have lost both, and well-near at once. The loss of one caused
the other, and both of them your just grief. Such losses, when
they come single, afflict us ; but when double, astonish us : and
though they give advantage of respite, would almost overwhelm
the best patient.
Lo, now is the trial of your manhood ; yea, of your Christ-

Epist. IX.] Practical Works. 181
ianity. You are now in the lists, set upon by two of God's fierce
afflictions : show now what patience you have, what fortitude.
Wherefore have you gathered and laid up, all this time, but for
this brunt ? Now, bring forth all your holy store to light and to
use ; and approve to us, in this difficulty, that you have all this
while been a Christian in earnest.
1 know these events have not surprised, you on a suddeti ; you
have suspected they might come ; you have put cases, if they
should come : things that are hazardous may be doubted ; but
certain things are and must be expected : providence abates
grief, and discountenances a cross.
Or, if your affection were so strong, that you durst not fore-
think your loss ; take it equally but as it falls. A wise man and
a Christian knows death so fatal to nature, so ordinary in event,
so gainful in the issue, that I wonder he can for this either fear
or grieve. Doth God only lend us one another, and do we
grudge when he calls for his own ? So I have seen ill debtors,
that borrow with prayers, keep with thanks, repay with enmity.
We mistake our tenure : we take that for gift which God intends
for loan : we are tenants at will, and think ourselves owners.
Your wife and child are dead : well ; they have done that for
which they came. If they could not have died, it had been
worthy of wonder ; not at all, that they are dead. If this condi
tion were proper only to our families and friends, or yet to our
climate alone ; how unhappy should we seem to our neighbours,
to ourselves ! Now it is common, let us mourn that we are men.
Lo, all princes and monarchs dance with us in the same ring ;
yea, what speak I of earth ? The God of nature, the Saviour of
men, hath trod the same steps of death : and do we think much
to follow him ? How many servants have we known that have
thrust themselves betwixt their master and death ; which have
died, that their master might not die ! and shall we repine to die
with ours ? How truly may we say of this our David, Thou art
worth ten thousand of us; yea, worth a world of angels! yet he
died, and died for us. Who would live, that knows his Saviour
died ? who can be a Christian, and would not be like him ? who
can be like him, that would not die after him ? Think of this ; and
judge, whether all the world can hire us not to die.
I need not ask you, whether you loved those whom you have
lost : could you love them, and not wish they might be happy ?
Could they be happy, and not die ? In truth, nature knows not

182 Practical Works. [Decade II.
what she would have. We can neither abide our friends miser
able in their stay, nor happy in their departure. We love our
selves so well, that we cannot be content they should gain by
our loss.
The excuse of your sorrow is, that you mourn for yourself;
true : but compare these two, and see whether your loss or their
gain be greater. For if their advantage exceed your loss ; take
heed, lest, while you bewray your love in mourning for them, it
appear that you love but yourself in them. They are gone to
their preferment, and you lament ; your love is injurious. If they
were vanished to nothing, I could not blame you, though yon took
up Rachel's lamentation : but now, you know they are in surer
hands than your own ; you know, that he hath taken them which
hath undertaken to keep them, to bring them again : you know, it
is but a sleep, which is miscalled death ; and that they shall, they
must awake, as sure as they lie down; and wake more fresb,
more glorious, than when you shut their eyes. What do we with
Christianity if we believe not this ? and if we do believe it, why do
we mourn as the hopeless ?
But the matter, perhaps, is not so heavy as the circumstance.
Your crosses came sudden and thick : you could not breathe
from your first loss ere you felt a worse.
As if He knew not this that sent both : as if He did it not
on purpose. His proceedings seem harsh ; are most wise, most
just. It is our fault, that they seem otherwise than they are.
Do we think we could carve better for ourselves ? 0 the mad
insolence of nature, that dares control where she should wonder !
Presumptuous clay ! that will be checking the Potter. Is his
wisdom himself? Is he in himself infinite? Is his decree out of
his wisdom, and do we murmur? Do we, foolish worms, turn
again, when he treads upon us ? What ! do you repine at that
which was good for you; yea, best? That is best for us, which
God seeth best : and that he sees best which he doth. This is
God's doing. Kiss his rod in silence ; and give glory to the hand
that rules it. His will is the rule of his actions ; and his goodness,
of his will. Things are good to us because he wills them : he
wills them because they are good to himself.
It is your glory that he intends in your so great affliction. It
is no praise to wade over a shallow ford ; but, to cut the swelling
waves of the deep commends both our strength and skill. It is
no victory to conquer an easy and weak ciots. These main evils

Epist. X.] Practical Works. 183
have crowns answerable to their difficulty. Wrestle now, and go
away with a blessing. Be patient, in this loss, and you shall
once triumph in your gain. Let God have them with cheerful
ness, and you shall enjoy God with them in glory.

TO MR. I. A. MERCHANT.
Epistle X. — Against sorrow for worldly losses.
It is fitter for me to begin with chiding than with advice.
What means this weak distrust ? Go on ; and I shall doubt
whether I write to a Christian. You have lost your heart, to
gether with your wealth : how can I but fear, lest this mammon
was your god? Hence was God's jealousy in removing it; and
hence your immoderate tears for losing it. If thus, God had not
loved you if he had not made you poor.
To some, it is an advantage to lose : you could not have been,
at once, thus rich and good. Now, heaven is open to you, which was
shut before ; and could never have given you entrance with that
load of iniquity. If you be wise in managing your affliction, you
have changed the world for God ; a little dross for heaven. Let
me ever lose thus, and smart when I complain.
But you might have at once retained both. The stomach that
is purged must be content to part with some good nourishment,
that it may deliver itself of more evil humours. God saw, that
knows it, you could not hold him so strongly, while one of your
hands was so fastened upon the world. You see many make
themselves wilfully poor : why cannot you be content God should
impoverish you ? If God had willed their poverty, he would have
commanded it: if he had not willed yours, he would not have
effected it.
It is a shame for a Christian to see an heathen philosopher
laugh at his own shipwreck ; while himself howls out, as if all his
felicity were embarked with his substance. How should we scorn
to think that an heathen man should laugh, either at our igno
rance or impotence ! ignorance, if we thought too highly of earthly
things ; impotence, if we overloved them.
The fear of some evils is worse than the sense. To speak in
genuously ; I could never see wherein poverty deserved so hard a
conceit. It takes away the delicacy of fare, softness of lodging,
gayness of attire ; and, perhaps, brings with it contempt : this is

184 Practical Works. [Decade II.
the worst, and all. View it now on the better side : lo there, quiet
security, sound sleeps, sharp appetite, free merriment ; no fears, no
cares, no suspicion, no distempers of excess, no discontentment. If
I were judge, my tongue should be unjust if poverty went away
weeping. I cannot see how the evils it brings can compare with
those which it removes ; how the discommodities should match the
blessings of a mean estate.
What are those you have lost, but false friends, miserable com
forters ? else they had not left you. 0 slight and fickle stay, that
winds could bereave you of! If your care could. go with them,
here were no damage; and if it go not with them, it is your
fault. Grieve more for your fault than for your loss.
If your negligence, your riotous misspense, had impaired your
estate, then Satan had impoverished you; now would I have
added, to your grief, for your sin, not for your affliction : but now,
since winds and waters have done it, as the officers of their Maker,
why should not you say with me, as I with Job, Tlie Lord hath
taken ?
Use your loss well, and you shall find that God hath crossed
you with a blessing. And if it were worse than the world esteems
it, yet think not what you feel, but what you deserve : you are a
stranger to yourself, if you confess not, that God favours you in
this whip. If he had stripped you of better things, and scourged
you with worse ; you should still have acknowledged a merciful
justice : if you now repine at an easy correction, you are worthy
of severity. Beware the next, if you grudge aud swell at this.
It is next to nothing which you suffer : what can be further
from us than these goods of outward estate ? You need not abate
either health or mirth for their sakes. Jf you do now draw the
affliction nearer than he which sent it, and make a foreign evil
domestical ; if, while God visits your estate, you fetch it home to
your body, to your mind, thank yourself that you will needs be
miserable : but if you love not to fare ill, take crosses as they are
sent, and go lightly away with an easy burden.

EPISTLES,
THE SECOND VOLUME, CONTAINING TWO DECADES.
BY JOS. HALL.
to the same most gracious patronage op the
HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCE, HENRY,
PRINCE OE GREAT BRITAIN,
his highness's unworthy servant,
humbly prostrates himself, and his second labour,
with
continual apprecations of all happiness.

THE TABLE.
DECADE III.
Epistle I. — To Mr. Smith, and Mr. Rob. [Robinson], ringleaders ofthe late separation
at Amsterdam : Setting forth their injury done to the Church, the injustice
of their cause, and fearfulness of their offence. Censuring and advising
them.
II. — To Sir Andrew Asteley : A discowse of our due preparation for death
and the means to sweeten it to us.
III. — To Mr. Samuel Burton, Archdeacon of Gloucester : A discowse of the
trial and choice of the true religion.
IV. — To Mr. Edmund Sleigh : A discourse of the hardness of Christianity ; and
the ahunda/nt recompense in the pleasures and commodities of that prof ession.
V  To Mr. W. L. : Expostulating the cause of his nnsettledmess in religion
which is pleaded to be our dissensions : showing the insufficiency of that mo
tive, and comparing the estate of our Church herein with the Romish.
VI, — To Sir Edmund Lucy: Discoursing of the different degrees of heavenly
glory ; and of ow mutual Tcnowledge of each other above.
VII. — To Mr. T. L. . Concerning the matter of divorce in the case of apparent
adultery ; advising the innocent party of the fittest course in that behalf.
VIII. — To Mr. Robert Hay : A discourse ofthe continual exercise of a Christian ¦
how he may Jceep his heart from hardness and his ways from error.
IX. — To Mr. I. E., one ofthe Company ofthe Turkish merchants : Discowi-smq
of the laivfulness of conversation and trade with infidels and heretics ¦ and
showing how far, and wherein, it is allowable.
X. — To the gentlemen of his Highness's court : A description of a good and
faithful courtier.

186 Practical Works. [Decade III.

THE THIRD DECADE.

TO MR. SMITH, AND MR. ROB. [ROBINSON,] y
RINGLEADERS OF THE LATE SEPARATION AT AMSTERDAM.

Epistle I. — Setting forth their injury done to the Church, the
injustice of their cause, and fearfulness of their offence. Cen
suring and advising them.
We hear of your separation, and mourn ; yet not so much for
you, as for your wrong.
You could not do a greater injury to your mother than to fly
from her. Say, she were poor, ragged, weak ; say, she were de
formed ; yet she is not infectious : or if she were, yet she is yours.
This were cause enough for you to lament her, to pray for her,
to labour for her redress ; not to avoid her. This unnaturalness
is shameful; and more heinous in you, who are reported not parties
in this evil, but authors. Your flight is not so much as your
misguidance. Plead not: this fault is past excuse: if we all should follow you,
this were the way, of a church, as you plead, imperfect, to make
no church ; and of a remedy, to make a disease. Still the fruit
of our charity to you is, besides our grief, pity. Your zeal of
truth hath misled you, and you others : a zeal, if honest, yet
blindfolded, and led by selfwill. 0 that you loved peace but half
so well as truth ; then this breach had never been ; and you, that
are yet brethren, had been still companions.
" Go out of Babylon," you say : " the voice, not of schism, but
of holiness." Know you where you are ? Look about you, I be
seech you ; look behind you, and see if we have not left it upon
our backs. She herself feels and sees that she is abandoned,
and complains to all the world, that we have not only forsaken,
but spoiled her ; and yet you say, " Come out of Babylon." And
except you will be willingly blind, you may see the heaps of her
y [See Dedication to "Apology against the Brownisfcs," vol. ix. p. 2.]

Epist. I.] Practical Works. 187
altars, the ashes of her idols, the ruins of her monuments, the
condemnation of her errors, the revenge of her abominations.
And are we yet in Babylon? Is Babylon yet amongst us?
Where are the main buildings of that accursed city : those high
and proud towers of their universal hierarchy ; infallible judg
ment ; dispensation with laws of God, and sins of men ; disposition
of kingdoms; deposition of princes; parting stakes with God in
our conversion, through freedom of will ; in our salvation, through
the merit of our works ? Where are those rotten heaps (rotten,
not through age, but corruption) of transubstantiating of bread,
adoring of images, multitude of sacraments, power of indulgences,
necessity of confessions, profit of pilgrimages, constrained and ap
proved ignorance, unknown devotions ? Where are those deep
vaults, if not mines of penances and purgatories, and whatsoever
hath been devised by those popelings, whether profitable or glo
rious, against the Lord and his Christ ? Are they not all razed
and buried in the dust? Hath not the majesty of her gods, like as
was done to Mithra and Serapis, been long ago offered to the
public laughter of the vulgar ? What is this but to go, yea to run,
if not to fly, out of Babylon ? But, as every man is a hearty patron
of his own actions, and it is a desperate cause that hath no plea,
you allege our consorting in ceremonies, and say, still we tarry in
the suburbs. Grant that these were as ill as an enemy can make
them, or can pretend them ; you are deceived, if you think the
walls of Babylon stand upon ceremonies. Substantial errors are
both her foundation and frame. These ritual observations are not
so much as tile and reed ; rather like to some vane upon the roof,
for ornament more than use ; not parts of the building, but not-
necessary appendances. If you take them otherwise, you wrong
the Church ; if thus, ahd yet depart, you wrong it and yourself;
as if you would have persuaded righteous Lot not to stay in Zoar
because it was so near Sodom. I fear, if you had seen the money
changers in the temple, how ever you would have prayed or
taught there : Christ did it, not forsaking the place, but scourging
the offenders. And this is the valour of Christian teachers, to
oppose abuses, not to run away from them. Where shall you not
thus find Babylon ? Would you have run from Geneva, because of
her wafers ? or from Corinth, for her disordered love-feasts ?
Either run out of the world, or your flight is in vain. If expe
rience of change teach you not, that you shall find your Babylon
every where, return not. Compare the place you have left with

188 Practical Works. [Decade III.
that you have chosen ; let not fear of seeming to repent over soon
. make you partial. Lo there a common harbour of all opinions, of
all heresies, if not a mixture : here you drew in the free and clear
air of the gospel, without that odious composition of Judaism,
Arianism, Anabaptism : there you live in the stench of these, and
more. You are unworthy of pity, if you will approve your misery.
Say, if you can, that the Church of England (if she were not
yours) is not a heaven to Amsterdam. How is it then that our
gnats are harder to swallow than their camels ? and that while
all Christendom magnifies our happiness, and applauds it, your
handful alone so detests our enormities, that you despise our
graces ?
See, whether in this you make not God a loser. The thank of
all his favours is lost, because you want more : and in the mean
time, who gains by this sequestration but Rome and hell ? How
do they insult in this advantage, that our mother's own children
condemn her for unclean, that we are daily weakened by our
divisions, that the rude multitude hath so palpable a motive to
distrust us ! Sure, you intended it not : but if you had been their
hired agent, you could not have done our enemies greater service.
The God of heaven open your eyes, that you may see the injustice
of that zeal which hath transported you, and turn your heart to
an endeavour of all Christian satisfaction ; otherwise, your souls
shall find too late, that it had been a thousand times better to
swallow a ceremony than to rend a church ; yea, that even
whoredoms and murders shall abide an easier answer than sepa
ration. I have done, if only I have advised you of that fearful threat
ening of the Wise Man : The eye that mocketh his father, and
despiseth the government of his mother, the ravens ofthe river
[valley] shall pick it out, and the young eagles eat it.

TO SIR ANDREW ASTELEY.
Epistle. II. — Discourse of our due preparation for death, and
the means to sweeten it to us.
Since I saw you, I saw my father die : how boldly and merrily
did he pass through the gates of death, as if they had had no
terror, but much pleasure ! O, that I could as easily imitate, as
not forget him ! We know we must tread the same way : how
happy, if with the same mind !

Epist. IL] Practical Works. 189
Our life, as it gives way to death, so must make way for it. It
will be, though we will not : it will not be happy, without our
will, without our preparation.
It is the best and longest lesson, to learn how to die ; and of
surest use : which alone if we take not out, it were better not
to have lived. 0 vain studies of men, how to walk through
Rome streets all day in the shade ; how to square circles ; how to
salve up the celestial motions ; how to correct miswritten copies,
to fetch up old words from forgetfulness, and a thousand other
like points of idle skill ; while the main care of life and death is
neglected !
There is an art of this, infallible, eternal, both in truth and
use : for though the means be divers, yet the last act is still the
same, and the disposition of the soul need not be other. It is all
one, whether a fever bring it or a sword. Wherein yet, after
long profession of other sciences, I am still (why should I shame
to confess?) a learner; and shall be, I hope, whilst I am : yet
it shall not repent us, as diligent scholars repeat their parts unto
each other, to be more perfect ; so mutually to recall some of our
rules of well dying : the first whereof is a conscionable life ; the
next, a right apprehension of life and death. I tread in the
beaten path : do you follow me.
To live holily, is the way to die safely, happily. If death be
terrible, yet innocence is bold ; and will neither fear itself nor let
us fear: where, contrariwise, wickedness is cowardly; and can
not abide, either any glimpse of hght or show of danger. Hope
doth not more draw our eyes forward, than conscience turns
them backward, and forces us to look behind us ; affrighting us
even with our past evils. Besides the pain of death, every sin is
a new fury, to torment the soul, and to make it loath to part.
How can it choose, when it sees, on the one side, what evil it
hath done ; on the other, what evil it must suffer ? It was a clear
heart (what else could do it ?) that gave so bold a forehead to that
holy bishop, who durst on his deathbed profess, " I have so lived,
as I neither fear to die nor shame to live." What care we when
we be found, if well doing ? what care we how suddenly, when our
preparation is perpetual? what care we how violently, when so
many inward friends (such are our good actions) give us secret
comfort ? There is no good steward but is glad of his audit : his
straight accounts desire nothing more than a discharge : only the
doubtful and untrusty fears his reckoning.

190 Practical Works. [Decade III.
Neither only doth the want of integrity make us timorous, but
of wisdom ; in that our ignorance cannot equally value either the
life which we leave or the death we expect. We have long con
versed with this life, and yet are unacquainted : how should we
then know that death we never saw ? or that life which follows
that death ? These cottages have been ruinous, and we have not
thought of their fall : our way hath been deep, and we have not
looked for our rest. Show me ever any man that knew what life
was, and was loath to leave it ; I will show you a prisoner that
would dwell in his gaol, a slave that likes to be chained to his
galley. What is there here but darkness of ignorance, discom
fort of events, impotency of body, vexation of conscience, distemper
of passions, complaint of estate, fears and sense of evil, hopes and
doubts of good, ambitious rackings, covetous toils, envious under
minings, irksome disappointments, weary satieties, restless desires,
and many worlds of discontentments in this one ? What wonder is it
that we would live ! We laugh at their choice that are in love
with the deformed ; and what a face is this we dote upon ! See, if
sins and cares and crosses have not, like a filthy morphew, over
spread it, and made it loathsome to all judicious eyes.
I marvel then, that any wise men could be other but stoics ;
and could have any conceit of life, but contemptuous : not more
for the misery of it, while it lasteth, than for the not lasting. We
may love it; we cannot hold it. What a shadow of a smoke,
what a dream of a shadow, is this we affect ! Wise Solomon says,
There is a time to be born, and a time to die : you do not hear
him say, "a time to live." What is more fleeting than time? yet
life is not long enough to be worthy of the title of time. Death
borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in our grave. We
lament the loss of our parents ; how soon shall our sons bewail
ours ! Lo, I that write this, and you that read it. how long are
we here ? It were well, if the world were as our tent ; yea, as
our inn ; if not to lodge, yet to bait in : but now it is only our
thoroughfare : one generation passeth ; another cometh ; none
staveth. If this earth were a paradise, and this which we call
our life were sweet as the joys above ; yet how should this fickle
ness of it cool our delight ! Grant it absolute : who can esteem
a vanishing pleasure? How much more now, when the drams of
our honey are lost in pounds of gall ; when our contentments are
as far from sincerity as continuance !
Yet the true apprehension of life, though joined with contempt,

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 191
is not enough to settle us, if either we be ignorant of death, or ill
persuaded : for if life have not worth enough to allure us, yet
death hath horror enough to affright us. He that would die
cheerfully must know death his friend. What is he but the faith
ful officer of our Maker, who ever smiles or frowns with his
Master ; neither can either show or nourish enmity where God
favours : when he comes fiercely, and pulls a man by the throat,
and summons him to hell, who can but tremble? The messenger
is terrible, but the message worse. Hence have risen the misera
ble despairs and furious raving of the ill conscience, that finds
no peace within, less without. But when he comes sweetly, not
as an executioner, but as a guide to glory; and proffers his service;
and shows our happiness ; and opens the door to our heaven : how
worthy is he of entertainment ! how worthy of gratulation ! But
his salutation is painful, if courteous : what then ? The physician
heals us not without pain, and yet we reward him. It is unthank
fulness to complain, where the answer of profit is excessive. Death
pain^th : how long ? how much ? with what proportion to the
sequel of joy ? 0 death, if thy pangs be grievous, yet thy rest
is sweet., The constant expectation that hath possessed that
rest hath already swallowed those pangs ; and makes the Christ
ian at once wholly dead to his pain, wholly alive to his glory.
The soul hath not leisure to care for her suffering that beholds
her crown ; which if she were enjoined to fetch through the flames
of hell, her faith would not stick at the condition.
Thus in brief, he that lives Christianly shall die boldly ; he
that finds his life short and miserable shall die willingly ; he
that knows death and foresees glory shall die cheerfully and
desirously.
TO MR. SAMUEL BURTON,
ARCHDEACON OF GLOUCESTER. [1607.]
Epistle III. — A discourse of the trial and choice ofthe
true religion.
Sir,— This discourse, enjoined by you, I send to your censure, to your dis
posing ; but to the use of others. Upon your charge, I have written it for
the wavering. If it seem worthy, communicate it ; else, it is but a dash of
your pen. I fear only the brevity : a volume were too little for this subject.
It is not more yours than the author. Farewell.
We do not more affect variety in all other things than we
abhor it in religion. Even those which have held the greatest

19~ Practical Works. [Decade III.
falsehoods hold that there is but one truth. I never read of
more than one heretic that held all heresies true; neither did
his opinion seem more incredible than the relation of it. God
can neither be multiplied nor Christ divided : if his coat might
be parted, his body was entire. For that, then, all sides challenge
truth, and but one can possess it, let us see who have found it,
who enjoy it.
There are not many religions that strive for it, though many
opinions. Every heresy, albeit fundamental, makes not a religion.
We say not, the religion of Arians, Nestorians, Sabellians, Mace
donians; but the sect, or heresy. No opinion challenges this
name in our usual speech, (for 1 discuss not the propriety,) but
that which, arising from many differences, hath settled itself in
the world, upon her own principles, not without an universal divi
sion. Such may soon be counted : though it is true, there are
by so much too many, as there are more than one.
Five religions, then, there are, by this rule, upon earth ; which
stand in competition for truth : Jewish, Turkish, Greekish, Po
pish, Reformed ; whereof each pleads for itself, with disgrace of
the other. The plain reader doubts how he may sit judge in so
high a plea : God hath put this person upon him ; while he charg
eth him to try the spirits ; to retain the good, reject the evil.
If still he plead, with Moses, insufficiency ; let him but attend ;
God shall decide the case, in his silence, without difficulty.
The Jew hath little to say for himself, but impudent denials of
our Christ ; of their prophecies : whose very refusal of him more
strongly proves him the true Messias : neither could he be justi
fied to be that Saviour, if they rejected him not ; since the pro
phets foresaw and foretold, not their repelling of him only, but
their reviling.
If there were no more arguments, God hath so mightily con
futed them from heaven, by the voice of his judgment, that all
the world hisseth at their conviction. Lo, their very sin is capi
tally written in their desolation and contempt. One of their own
late doctors seriously expostulates, in a relenting letter to an
other of his fellow rabbins, what might be the cause of so long
and desperate a ruin of their Israel ; and, comparing their former
captivities with their former sins, argues, and yet fears to conclude,
that this continuing punishment must needs be sent for some sin,
so much greater than idolatry, oppression, sabbath-breaking, by
how much this plague is more grievous than all the other :

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 193
which, his fear tells him, and he may believe it, can be no other
but the murder and refusal of their true Messias. Let now all the
doctors of those obstinate synagogues answer this doubt of their
own objecting.
But how, past all contradiction, is the ancient witness of all the
holy prophets answered and confirmed by their events ! whose
foresayings, verified in all particular issues, are more than demon
strative. No art can describe a thing past with more exactness
than they did this Christ to come. What circumstance is there
that hath not this prediction? Have they not forewritten who
should be his mother ; a virgin : of what tribe ; of Judah : of what
house ; of David : what place ; Bethlehem : what time ; when the
sceptre should be taken from Judah ; or after sixty-nine weeks :
what name ; Jesus, Immanuel : what habitation ; Nazareth : what
harbinger; John, the second Elias : what his business ; to preach,
save, deliver: what entertainment; rejection: what death; the
cross: what manner; piercing the body, not breaking the bones :
what company ; amidst two wicked ones : where ; at Jerusalem :
whereabouts ; without the gates : with what words ; of implora-
tion : what draught ; of vinegar and gall : who was his traitor,
and with what success ? If all the synagogues of the circumcision,
all the gates of hell, can obscure these evidences, let me be a pro
selyte. My labour herein is so much less, as there is less danger of Ju
daism. Our church is well rid of that accursed nation : whom
yet Rome harbours, and in a fashion graces ; while, instead of
spitting at, or that their Neapolitan correction whereof Gratian
speaks, the pope solemnly receives at their hands that Bible which
they at once approve and overthrow.
But would God there were no more Jews than appear ! Even
in this sense also, he is a Jew that is one within : plainly, whose
heart doth not sincerely confess his Redeemer. Though a Christ
ian Jew is no other than an atheist; and therefore must be
scourged elsewhere.
The Jew thus answered, the Turk stands out for his Mahomet,
that cozening Arabian ; whose religion, if it deserve that name,
stands upon nothing but rude ignorance and palpable imposture.
Yet, lo here a subtle devil in a gross religion ; for when he saw
that he could not by single twists of heresy pull down the well-
built walls of the church, he winds them all up in one cable, to
see if his cord of so many folds might happily prevail : raising
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. °

194 Practical Works. [Decade III.
up wicked Mahomet, to deny, with Sabellius, the distinction of
persons; with Arius, Christ's divinity; with Macedonius, the
Deity of the Holy Ghost : with Sergius, two wills in Christ ; with
Marcion, Christ's suffering.
And these policies, seconded with violence, how have they
wasted Christendom ! 0 damnable mixture, miserably successful !
which yet could not have been, but that it meets with sottish
clients, and soothes up nature, and debars both all knowledge and
contradiction. What is their Alcoran but a fardel of foolish impossibilities 1
Whosoever shall hear me relate the stories of angel Adriel's0
death, Seraphuel's trumpet, Gabriel's bridgeP, Horroth and Mar-
roth's hangingq, the moon's descending into Mahomet's sleeve, the
litter wherein he saw God carried by eight angels, their ridicu
lous and swinish paradise, and thousands of the same brand ;
would say, that Mahomet hoped to meet either with beasts or mad
men. Besides these barbarous fictions, behold their laws, full of
license, full of impiety : in which, revenge is encouraged, multi
tude of wives allowed, theft tolerated; and the frame of their
opinions such, as well bewrays their whole religion to be but the
mongrel issue of an Arian, Jew, Nestorian, and Arabian : a mon
ster of many seeds, and all accursed. In both which regards,
nature herself, in whose breast God hath written his royal law,
though in part by her defaced, hath light enough to condemn a
Turk, as the worst pagan. Let no man look for further disproof.
These follies a wise Christian will scorn to confute, and scarce
vouchsafe to laugh at.
The Greekish church (so the Russes term themselves) put in
the next claim, but with no better success : whose infinite clergy
affords not a man that can give either reason or account of their
own doctrine. These are the basest dregs of all Christians. So
we favourably term them, though they, perhaps in more simpli
city than wilfulness, would admit none of all the other Christian
world to their font but those who, in a solemn renunciation, spit
at and abjure their former God, religion, baptism. Yet, perad-
venture, we might more justly term them Nicolaitans: for that
obscure saint, (ifa saint, if honest,) by an unequal division, finds
more homage from them than his Master. These are as ignorant
0 [Azrail.]
v [As to this bridge, called Al Sirat, see Introd. to Sale's Koran, Lond. 1 784. p. 91 .]
1 [Harut and Marut. See Sale's Koran, C. 2. p. 13. Lond. 1784.]

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 195
as Turks, as idolatrous as heathens, as obstinate as Jews, and
more superstitious than papists. To speak ingenuously from that
I have heard and read, if the worst of the Romish religion and
the best of the Muscovitish be compared, the choice will be hard,
whether should be less ill. I labour the less in all these, whose
remoteness and absurdity secure us from infection, and whose
only name is their confutation.
I descend to that main rival of truth, which creeps into her
bosom, and is not less near than subtle, the religion, if not rather
the faction, of Papism : whose plea is importunate, and so much
more dangerous, as it carries fairer probability. Since then, of
all religions, the Christian obtaineth, let us see, of those that are
called Christian, which should command assent and profession.
Every religion bears in her lineaments the image of her parent :
the true religion, therefore, is spiritual ; and looks like God in
her purity : all false religions are carnal ; and carry the face of
nature, their mother ; and of him whose illusion begot them, Satan .
In sum, nature never conceived any which did not favour her ;
nor the Spirit any which did not oppugn her. Let this then be
the Lydian stone of this trial : we need no more. Whether reli
gion soever doth more plausibly content nature, is false ; whether
gives more sincere glory to God, is his truth.
Lay aside prejudice : whither, I beseech you, tendeth all popery
but to make nature either vainly proud or carelessly wanton ?
What can more advance her pride than to tell her, that she
hath in her own hands freedom enough of will, with a little pre
vention, to prepare herself to her justification; that she hath
whereof to rejoice, somewhat which she hath not received ; that,
if God please but to unfetter her, she can walk alone? she is
insolent enough of herself : this flattery is enough to make her
mad of conceit : after this, that, if God will but bear half the
charges by his cooperation, she may undertake to merit her own
glory, and brave God, in tbe proof of his most accurate judg
ment, to fulfil the whole royal law ; and that, from the superfluity
of her own satisfactions, she may be abundantly beneficial to her
neighbours : that, naturally, without faith, a man may do some
good works ; that we may repose confidence in our merits ? Nei
ther is our good only by this flattery extolled, but our ill also
diminished : our evils are our sins : some of them, they say, are
in their nature venial, and not worthy of death ; more, that our
original sin is but the want of our first justice ; no guilt of our
o 2

196 Practical Works. [Decade III.
first-father's offence, no inherent ill-disposition ; and that by bap
tismal water is taken away whatever hath the nature of sin ; that
a mere man (let me not wrong St. Peter's successor in so terming
him) hath power to remit both punishment and sin, past and fu
ture ; that many have suffered more than their sins have re
quired ; that the sufferings of the saints added to Christ's pas
sions make up the treasure of the church, that spiritual exche
quer, whereof their bishop must keep the key, and make his
friends. In all these, the gain of nature, who sees not, is God's
loss? all her bravery is stolen from above: besides those other direct
derogations from him; that his scriptures are not sufficient; that
their original fountains are corrupted, and the streams run clearer ;
that there is a multitude, if a finite number, of mediators.
Turn your eyes now to us ; and see, contrarily, how we abase
nature, how we knead her in the dust ; spoiling her of her proud
rags, loading her with reproaches ; and giving glory to him that
says he will not give it to another : while we teach, that we
neither have good, nor can do good of ourselves : that we are not
sick or fettered, but dead in our sin ; that we cannot move to
good more than we are moved ; " that our best actions are faulty,
our satisfactions debts, our deserts damnation ; that all our merit
is his mercy that saves us ; that every of our sins is deadly, every
of our natures originally depraved and corrupted ; that no water
can entirely wash away the filthiness of our concupiscence ; that
none but the blood of Him that was God can cleanse us ; that all
our possible sufferings are below our offences ; that God's written
word is all-sufficient to inform us, to make us both wise and per
fect ; that Christ's mediation is more than sufficient to save us,
his sufferings to redeem us, his obedience to enrich us.
You have seen how papistry makes nature proud : now see
how it makes her lawless and wanton : while it teacheth, yet this
one not so universally, that Christ died effectually for all ; that,
in true contrition, an express purpose of new life is not necessary ;
that wicked men are true members of the church ; that a lewd
miscreant or infidel, in the business of the altar, partakes of the
true body and blood of Christ, yea, which is a shame to tell, a
brute creature ; that men may save the labour of searching, for
that it is both easy and safe, with that catholic Collier, to believe
with the church at a venture ; more than so ; that devotion is the
seed of ignorance ; that there is infallibility annexed to a parti
cular place and person ; that the bare act of the sacraments con-

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 197
fers grace, without faith ; that the mere sign of the cross made
by a Jew or infidel is of force to drive away devils; that the
sacrifice of the mass, in the very work wrought, avails to obtain
pardon of our sins, not in our life only, but when we lie frying in
purgatory ; that we need not pray in faith, to be heard, or in
understanding ; that alms given merit heaven, dispose to justifi
cation, satisfy God for sin ; that abstinence from some meats and
drinks is meritorious ; that indulgences may be granted, to dis
pense with all the penance of sins afterward to be committed;
that these, .by a living man, may be applied to the dead ; that
one man may deliver another's soul out of his purging torments ;
and therefore, that he who wants not either money or friends
need not fear the smart of his sins. 0 religion, sweet to the
wealthy ; to the needy, desperate ! Who will now care, hence
forth, how sound his devotions be, how lewd his life, how heinous
his sins, that knows these refuges ?
On the contrary, we curb nature ; we restrain, we discourage,
we threaten her : teaching her, not to rest in implicit faiths, or
general intentions, or external actions of piety, or presumptuous
dispensations of men; but to strive unto sincere faith; without
which we have no part in Christ, in his Church ; no benefit by
sacraments, prayers, fastings, beneficences : to set the heart on
work, in all our devotions ; without which the hand and tongue
are but hypocrites : to set the hands on work, in good actions ;
without which the presuming heart is but an hypocrite : to expect
no pardon for sin before we commit it; and from Christ alone
when we have committed it ; and to repent before we expect it :
to hope for no chaffering, no ransom of our souls from below ; no
contrary change of estate after dissolution : that life is the time of
mercy ; death, of retribution.
Now, let me appeal to your soul, and to the judgment of all
the world, whether of these two religions is framed to the humour
of nature ; yea, let me but know what action popery requires
of any of her followers which a mere naturalist hath not done,
cannot do.
See, how I have, chosen to beat them with that rod wherewith
they think we have so often smarted : for what cavil hath been
more ordinary against us, than this of ease and liberty; yea,
license given and taken by our religion ; together with the up-
braidings of their own strict and rigorous austereness? Where
are our penal works, our fastings, scourges, haircloth, weary pil-

198 Practical Works. [Decade III.
grimages, blushing confessions, solemn vows of willing beggary
and perpetual continency ?
To do them right, we yield : in all the hard works of will-
worship they go beyond us ; but, lest they should insult in the
victory, not so much as the priests of Baal went beyond them.
I see their whips : show me their knives. Where did ever zeal
ous Romanist lance and carve his flesh in devotion ? The Baalites
did it; and yet never the wiser, never the holier. Either there
fore this zeal, in works of their own devising, makes them not
better than we, or it makes the Baalites better than they : let
them take their choice.
Alas ! these difficulties are but a colour to avoid greater. No,
no ; to work our stubborn wills to subjection ; to draw this unto
ward flesh to a sincere cheerfulness in God's service ; to reach
unto a sound belief in the Lord Jesus ; to pray with a true heart,
without distraction, without distrust, without misconceit ; to keep
the heart in continual awe of God : these are the hard tasks of a
Christian ; worthy qf our sweat, worthy of our rejoicing : all
which that Babylonish religion shifteth off with a careless
fashionableness, as if it had not to do with the soul. Give us
obedience : let them take sacrifice.
Do you yet look for more evidence ? look into particulars, and
satisfy yourself in God's decision, as Optatus2 advised of old.
Since the goods of our Father are in question, whither should we
go but to his will and testament? My soul, bear the danger of
this bold assertion : If we err, we err with Christ and his apostles.
In a word, against all staggering, our Saviour's rule is sure and
eternal : If any man ivill do my Father's will, he shall know of
the doctrine whether it be of God.

TO MR. EDMUND SLEIGH.
Epistle IV. — A discourse of the hardness of Christianity; and-
the abundant recompense, in the pleasures and commodities of
that profession.
How hard a thing is it, dear uncle, to be a Christian ! Per
haps others are less dull and more quiet; more waxen to the
impressions of grace, and less troublesome to themselves.
I accuse none but whom I know, and whom I dare, myself.
z [Ergo voluntas ejus velut in Testamento sic in Evangelio inquiratur. Opt.
Milev. lib. v, p. 85. ed. Paris. 1631.]

Epist. IV.] Practical Works. 199
Even easy businesses are hard to the weak : let others boast ; I
must complain.
To keep our station is hard ; harder, to move forward. One
while, I scarce restrain my unruly desires from evil : ofter, can
find no lust to good. My heart will either be vain or sullen.
When I am wrought, with much sweat, to detest sin, and distaste
the world, yet who shall raise up this dross of mine to a spiritual
joy ? Sometimes I purpose well ; and if those thoughts, not mine,
begin to lift me up from my earth : lo, he that rules in the air
stoops upon me with powerful temptations, or the world pulls
me down with a sweet violence : so as I know not whether I be
forced or persuaded to yield.
I find much weakness in myself, but more treachery. How
willing am I to be deceived ! how loath to be altered ! Good duties
seem harsh, and can hardly escape the repulse or delay of ex
cuses, and not without much strife grow to any relish of plea
sure ; and when they are at best, cannot avoid the mixture of many
infirmities : which do at once disquiet and discourage the mind ;
not suffering it to rest in what it would have done and could not.
And if, after many sighs and tears, I have attained to do well,
and resolve better ; yet this good estate is far from constant, and
easily inclining to change. And while I strive, in spite of my
natural fickleness, to hold my own with some progress and gain ;
what difficulty do I find, what opposition !
0 God, what adversaries hast thou provided for us weak men !
what encounters ! malicious and subtle spirits, an alluring world,
a serpentine and stubborn nature.
Force and fraud do their worst to us : sometimes, because they
are spiritual enemies, I see them not ; and complain to feel them
too late : otherwhile, my spiritual eyes see them with amazement ;
and I, like a cowardly Israelite, am ready to flee, and plead their
measure for my fear ; Who is able to stand before the sons of
Anak ? some other times I stand still, and, as 1 can, weakly resist ;
but am foiled with indignation and shame : then again, I rise up,
not without bashfulness and scorn ; and, with more hearty resist
ance, prevail and triumph : when, ere long, surprised with a
sudden and unwarned assault, I am carried away captive whither
I would not; and, mourning for my discomfiture, study for a
feeble revenge ; my quarrel is good, but my strength maintains it
not ; it is now long ere I can recover this overthrow, and find
myself whole of these wounds.

gOO Practical Works. [Decade III.
Beside suggestions, crosses fall heavy, and work no small
distemper in a mind faint and unsettled ; whose law is such, that
the more 1 grow, the more I bear ; and, not seldom, when God
gives me respite, I afflict myself ; either my fear feigneth evils,
or my unruly passions raise tumults within me, which breed much
trouble, whether in satisfying or suppressing ; not to speak that
sin is attended, besides unquietness, with terror.
Now, you say, " Alas, Christianity is hard !" I grant it ; but
gainful and happy. I contemn the difficulty when I respect the
advantage. The greatest labours that have answerable requitals
are less than the least that have no reward. Believe me, when I
look to the reward, I would not have the work easier. It is a
good Master whom we serve ; who not only pays, but gives ; not
after the proportion of our earnings, but of his own mercy. If
every pain that we suffer were a death, and every cross a hell,
we have amends enough. It were injurious to complain of the
measure, when we acknowledge the recompense.
Away with these weak dislikes : though I should buy it dearer,
I would be a Christian. Any thing may make me out of love
with myself; nothing with my profession : I were unworthy of
this favour, if I could repent to have endured : herein alone I am
safe ; herein I am blessed. I may be all other things, and yet,
with that dying emperor, complain, with my last breath, that I
am no whit the better : let me be a Christian, I am privileged
from miseries ; hell cannot touch me ; death cannot hurt me. No
evil can arrest me while I am under the protection of Him which
overrules all good and evil : yea, so soon as it touches me, it turns
good : and, being sent and suborned by my spiritual adversaries
to betray me, now, in an happy change it fights for me ; and is
driven rather to rebel, than wrong me.
It is a bold and strange word : no price could buy of me the
gain of my sins. That which, while I repented, I would have
expiated with blood ; now, after my repentance, I forego not
for a world : the fruit of having sinned, if not, rather, of having
repented. Besides my freedom, how large is my possession ! All good
things are mine ; to challenge, to enjoy. I cannot look beyond
my own, nor besides it ; and the things that I cannot see, I dare
claim no less. The heaven that rolls so gloriously above my
head is mine, by this right ; yea, those celestial spirits, the better
part of that high creation, watch me in my bed, guard me in my

Epist. V.] Practical Works. 201
ways, shelter me in my dangers, comfort me in my troubles ; and
are ready to receive that soul which they have kept.
What speak I of creatures ? The God of Spirits is mine ; and,
by a sweet and secret union, I am become an heir of his glory ;
yea, as it were, a limb of himself. 0 blessedness ! worthy of
difficulty, worthy of pain : what thou wilt, Lord ; so I may be
thine, what thou wilt. When I have done all, when I have
suffered all, thou exceedest more than I want.
Follow me then, dear uncle : or, if you will, lead me rather, as
you have done, in these steps ; and, from the rough way, look to
the end. Overlook these trifling grievances, and fasten your eyes
upon the happy recompense; and see if you cannot scorn to com
plain. Pity those that take not your pains, and persist with courage
till you feel the weight of your crown.

TO MR. W. L.

Epistle V. — Expostulating the cause of his unsettledness in re
ligion, which is pleaded to be our dissensions ; showing the
insufficiency of that motive, and comparing the estate qf our
church herein with the Romish.
I would I knew where to find you; then I could' tell how to
take a direct aim ; whereas now I must rove, and conjecture.
To day, you are in the tents of the Romanists ; to morrow, in
ours ; the next day, between both, against both. Our adversaries
think you ours ; we, theirs ; your conscience finds you with both,
and neither.
I flatter you not : this of yours is the worst of all tempers.
Heat and cold have their uses : lukewarmness is good for
nothing but to trouble the stomach. Those that are spiritually
hot, find acceptation : those that are stark cold, have a lesser
reckoning : the mean between both is so much worse as it comes
nearer to good and attains it not. How long will you halt in
this indifferency ? Resolve one way, and know at last what you do
hold, what you should. Cast off either your wings or your teeth;
and, loathino- this bat-like nature, be either a bird or a beast.
To die wavering and uncertain, yourself will grant fearful. If
you must settle, when begin you ? If you must begin, why not
now ? It is dangerous deferring that whose want is deadly, and
whose opportunity is doubtful. God crieth with Jehu, Who is
on my side, ivho ? Look at last out of your window to him, and

202 Practical Works. [Decade III.
in a resolute courage cast down this Jezebel that hath bewitched
you. Is there any impediment which delay will abate ? Is there
any which a just answer cannot remove? If you had rather
waver, who can settle you ? but if you love not inconstancy, tell
us why you stagger. Be plain, or else you will never be firm.
AVhat hinders you ?
Is it our divisions ? I see you shake your head at this : and by
your silent gesture bewray this the cause of your distaste. Would
God 1 could either deny this with truth, or amend it with tears !
But I grant it ; with no less sorrow than you with offence. This
earth hath nothing more lamentable than the civil jars of one
faith. What then ? Must you defy your mother, because you see
your brethren fighting ? Their dissension is her grief. Must she
lose some sons because some others quarrel ? Do not so wrong
yourself in afflicting her. Will you love Christ the less, because
his coat is divided ?
Yea, let me boldly say, the hem is torn a little, the garment
is whole ; or rather it is fretted a little, not torn ; or rather, the
fringe, not the hem. Behold, here is one Christ, one creed, one
baptism, one heaven, one way to it; in sum, one religion, one
foundation ; and take away the tumultuous spirits of some rigor
ous Lutherans, one heart : our differences are those of Paul and
Barnabas ; not those of Peter and Magus : if they be some, it is
well they are no more ; if many, that they are not capital. Show
me that church that hath not complained of distraction ; yea that
famjly, yea that fraternity, yea that man that always agrees with
himself. See if the spouse of Christ, in that heavenly marriage-
song, do not call him a young hart in the mountains of division.
Tell me then, whither will you go for truth, if youwill allow
no truth but where there is no division ? To Rome, perhaps ;
famous for unity, famous for peace. See now how happily you
have chosen ; how well you have sped ! Lo there, cardinal
Bellarmine himself, a witness above exception, under his own
hand acknowledged to the world, and reckons up two hundred
thirty and seven contrarieties of doctrine among the Romish di
vines. What need we more evidence ? 0 the perfect accordance
of Peter's see ; worthy to be recorded for a badge of truth !
Let now all our adversaries scrape together so many contra
dictions of opinions amongst us, as they confess amongst them
selves ; and be you theirs. No, they are not more peaceable, but
more subtle ; they have not less dissension, but more smothered.

Epist. VI.] Practical Works. 203
They fight closely within doors, without noise : all our frays are
in the field. Would God we had as much of their cunning as
they want of our peace ; and no more of their policy, than they
want of our truth ! Our strife is in ceremonies, theirs in substance ;
ours in one or two points, theirs in all. Take it boldly from him
that dares avouch it ; there is not one point in all divinity, except
those wherein we accord with them, wherein they all speak the
same. If our church displease you for differences, theirs much
more ; unless you will be either wilfully incredulous or wilfully
partial ; unless you dislike a mischief the less for the secresy.
What will you do then ? Will you be a church alone ? Alas,
how full are you of contradictions to yourself ! how full of con
trary purposes ! how oft do you chide with yourself! how oft do
you fight with yourself ! I appeal to that bosom which is privy to
those secret combats.
Believe me not, if ever you find perfect unity anywhere but
above : either go thither, and seek it amongst those that triumph,
or be content with what estate you find in this warfaring number.
Truth is in differences, as gold in dross, wheat in chaff: will
you cast away the best metal, the best grain, because it is mingled
with this offal ? Will you rather be poor and hungry, than bestow
labour on the fan or the furnace ? Is there nothing worth your
respect, but peace ? I have heard that the interlacing of discords
graces the best music ; and I know not whether the very evil
spirits agree not with themselves. If the body be sound, what
though the coat be torn ? or if the garment be whole, what if the
lace be unript ? Take you peace ; let me have truth, if I cannot
have both.
To conclude, embrace those truths that we all hold, and it
greatly matters not what you hold in those wherein we differ ;
and, if you love your safety, seek rather grounds whereon to rest,
than excuses for your unrest. If ever you look to gain by the
truth, you must both choose it and cleave to it. Mere resolution
is not enough, except you will rather lose yourself than it.

TO SIR EDMUND LUCY.
Epistle VI. — Discoursing qf the different degrees of heavenly
glory, and of our mutual knowledge of each other above.
As those which never were at home, now, after much hearsay

204 Practical Works. [Decade III.
travelling toward it, ask in the way, what manner of house it is,
what seat, what frame, what soil ; so do we in the passage to our
glory. We are all pilgrims thither ; yet so, as that some have
looked into it afar, through the open windows of the scripture.
Go to then : while others are inquiring about worldly dignities
and earthly pleasures, let us two sweetly consult of the estate of
our future happiness, yet without presumption, without curiosity.
Amongst this infinite choice of thoughts, it hath pleased you to
limit our discourse to two heads.
You ask first, if the joys of the glorified saints shall differ in
degrees. I fear not to affirm it. There is one life of all, one felicity ;
but divers measures. Our heaven begins here, and here varies in
degree. One Christian enjoys God above another, according as
his grace, as his faith is more : and heaven is still like itself, not
other above from that beneath. As our grace begins our glory,
so it proportions it. Blessedness stands in the perfect operation
of the best faculties about the perfectest object; that is, in the
vision, in the fruition of God. All his saints see him, but some
more clearly ; as the same sun is seen of all eyes not with equal
strength. Such as the eye of our faith was, to see him that is
invisible ; such is the eye of our present apprehension, to see as
we are seen. Who sees not that our rewards are according to our
works ? not for them, as on merit : woe be to that soul which hath
but what it earneth ; but after them, as their rule of proportion.
And these, how sensibly unequal ! one gives but a cup of cold
water to a disciple ; another gives his blood for the Master. Dif
ferent works have different wages ; not of desert, but of mercy :
five talents well employed carry away more recompense than two,
yet both approved, both rewarded with their Master's joy. Who
can stick at this that knows those heavenly spirits, to whom we
shall be like, are marshalled by their Maker into several ranks ?
he that was rapt into their element, and saw their blessed orders,
as from his own knowledge hath styled them, thrones, princi
palities, powers, dominions. If in one part of this celestial family
the great Householder hath thus ordered it, why not in the other ?
yea, even in this he hath instanced ; You shall sit on twelve
thrones, and judge the twelve tribes qf Israel: if he mean not
some preeminence to his apostles, how doth he answer, how doth
he satisfy them? Yet more, Lazarus is in Abraham's bosom:
therefore Abraham is more honoured than Lazarus. I shall need
no more proofs ; if from heaven you shall look down into the

Epist. VI.] Practical Works. 205
great gulf, and there see diversity of torments, according to the
value of sins : equality of offences you acknowledge an idle paradox
of the stoics : to hold unequal sins equally punished were more
absurd, and more injurious to God's justice : there is but one fire,
which yet otherwise burns the straw ; otherwise, wood and iron :
he that made and commands this dungeon, these tortures, tells us,
that the wilfully disobedient shall smart with more stripes, the ig
norant with fewer. Yet, so conceive of these heavenly degrees,
that the least is glorious ; so do these vessels differ, that all are
full; there is no want in any, no envy. Let us strive for a place,
not strive for the order : how can we wish to be more than happy !
Your other question is, of our mutual knowledge above ; the
hope whereof, you think, would give much contentment to the
necessity of our parture ; for, both we are loath not to know those
whom we love, and we are glad to think we shall know them
happy : whereof, if it may comfort you, I am no less confident.
If I may hot go so far, as with the best of the fathers, to say we
shall know one another's thoughts, I dare say, our persons we
shall : our knowledge, our memory, are not there lost, but per
fected. Yea, I fear not to say, we shall know both our miseries
past, and the present sufferings of the damned : it makes our
happiness not a little the sweeter, to know that we were miserable,
to know that others are and must be miserable. We shall know
them, not feel them ; take heed that you clearly distinguish be
twixt speculation and experience : we are then far out of the reach
of evils ; we may see them, to comfort us, not to affect us. Who
doubts that these eyes shall see and know the glorious Manhood
of our blessed Saviour, advanced above all the powers of heaven ?
and if one body, why not more ? and if our Elder Brother, why no
more of our spiritual fraternity ? Yea, if the twelve thrones of
those judges of Israel shall be conspicuous, how shall we not ac
knowledge them ? And if these, who shall restrain us from more ?
You will easily grant that our love can never fail : faith and hope
give place to sight, to present fruition ; for these are of things
not seen : but love is perpetual, not of God only, but his saints ;
for nothing ceases but our earthly parts ; nothing but what sa
vours of corruption : Christian love is a grace, and may well chal
lenge a place in heaven : and what love is there of what we know
not? More .plainly, If the three disciples in Tabor knew Moses
and Elias, how much more shall we know them in God's Sion !
Lastly, for it is a letter, not a volume, that I intended in this not

206 Practical Works. [Decade III.
necessary but likely discourse, that famous parable can tell you,
that those which are in hell may know singular and several per
sons, though distant in place : the rich glutton knows Lazarus and
Abraham. I hear what you say : "It is but a parable :" neither
will I press you with the contrary authority of Ambrose, Tertul
lian, Gregory, Jerome, or any father; nor with that universal
rule of Chrysostom, That those only are parables where examples
are expressed and names concealed : I yield it ; yet all holy para
bles have their truths, at least their probabilities : deny this, and
you disable their use, wrong their Author : our Saviour never
said aught was done that cannot be ; and shall then the damned
retain aught which the glorified lose ? No man ever held that the
soul was advantaged by torment. Comfort you, therefore, in this ;
you shall know and be known. But far be from hence all carnal
and earthly thoughts ; as if your affections should be, as below,
doubled to your wife or child: nature hath no place in glory;
here is no respect of blood ; none of marriage : this grosser ac
quaintance and pleasure is for the paradise of Turks, not the hea
ven of Christians : here is, as no marriage, save betwixt the Lamb
and his Spouse, the Church ; so, no matrimonial affections : you
shall rejoice in your glorified child ; not as your child, but as glo
rified. In brief, let us so inquire of our company, that, above
all things, we strive to be there ourselves : where, we are sure, if
we have not what we imagined, we shall have more than we could
imagine.

TO MR. T. L.
Epistle VII. — Concerning the matter of divorce in the case of
apparent adultery ; advising the innocent party of the fittest
course in that behalf.
All intermeddling is attended with danger, and ever so much
more, as the band of the parties contending is nearer and straiter :
how can it then want peril to judge betwixt those which are or
should be one flesh ? Yet great necessities require hazard. My
profession would justly check me, if I preferred not your conscience
to my own love.
I pity and lament that your own bosom is false to you ; that
yourself, with shame and with sin, are pulled from yourself, and
given to whom you would not ; an injury that cannot be paralleled
upon earth, and such as may, without our wonder, distract you.

Epist. VII.] Practical Works. 207
Slight crosses are digested with study and resolution ; greater,
with time ; the greatest, not without study, time, counsel.
There is no extreme evil whose evasions are not perplexed. I
see here mischief on either hand ; I see you beset, not with griefs
only, but dangers. No man ever more truly held a wolf by the
ear, which he can neither stay nor let go with safety.
God's ancient law would have made a quick despatch, and have
determined the case, by the death of the offender, and the liberty
of the innocent. And not it alone ; how many heathen lawgivers
have subscribed to Moses ! Arabians, Grecians, Romans, yea very
Goths, the dregs of barbarism, have thought this wrong not expi-
able but by blood.
With us, the easiness of revenge, as it yields frequence of
offences, so multitude of doubts; whether the wronged husband
should conceal or complain ; complaining, whether he should re
tain or dismiss ; dismissing, whether he may marry or must con
tinue single ; not continuing single, whether he may receive his
own or choose another.
But your inquiries shall be my bounds.
The fact, you say, is too evident. Let me ask you ; to yourself,
or to the world ? This point alone must vary our proceedings.
Public notice requires public discharge : private wrongs are in
our own power ; public, in the hands of authority. The thoughts
of our own breasts, while they smother themselves within us, are
at our command ; whether for suppressing or expressing ; but if
they once have vented themselves by words unto others' ears, now,
as common strays, they must stand to the hazard of censure;
such are our actions. Neither the sword nor the keys meddle
within doors ; and what but they without ?
If fame have laid hold on the wrong, prosecute it; clear your
name, clear your house, yea, God's : else, you shall be reputed a
pander to your own bed ; and the second shame shall surpass the
first, so much as your own fault can more blemish you than
another's. If there were no more, he is cruelly merciful that
neglects his own fame.
But what if the sin were shrouded in secresy ? the loathsome
ness of vice consists not in common knowledge. It is no less
heinous, if less talked of. Report gives but shame : God and the
good soul detest close evils.
Yet then, I ask not of the offence ; but of the offender : not of
her crime ; but her repentance. She hath sinned against heaven

208 Practical Works. [Decade III.
and you : but hath she washed your polluted bed with her tears ?
hath her true sorrow been no less apparent than her sin ? hath
she pieced her old vow with new protestations of fidelity ? do you
find her at once humbled and changed ? Why should that ear be
deaf to her prayers that was open to her accusation ? why is there
not yet place for mercy ? why do we Christians live as under
martial law, wherein we sin but once ? Plead not authority : civi
lians have been too rigorous : the merciful sentence of Divinity
shall sweetly temper human severeness. Hosv many have we
known the better for their sin ? That Magdalene, her predecessor
in filthiness, had never loved so much, if she had not so much
sinned. How oft hath God's spouse deserved a divorce ; which
yet still her confessions, her tears have reversed ! How oft hath
that scroll been written and signed ; and yet again cancelled and
torn upon submission ! His actions, not his words only, are our
precepts. Why is man cruel, where God relents ? The wrong is
ours only for his sake, without whose law were no sin. If the
creditor please to remit the debt, do standers-by complain ?
But if she be at once filthy and obstinate, fly from her bed, as
contagious. Now, your benevolence is adultery : you impart
your body to her ; she, her sin to you : a dangerous exchange ;
an honest body for an harlot's sin. Herein you are in cause that
she hath more than one adulterer. I applaud the rigour of those
ancient canons, which have still roughly censured even this cloke
of vice. As there is a necessity of charity in the former, so of
justice in this. If you can so love your wife that you detest not
her sin, you are a better husband than a Christian, a better bawd
than a husband.
I dare say no more upon so general a relation. Good physicians
in dangerous diseases dare not prescribe on bare sight of urine, or
uncertain report ; but will feel the pulse, and see the symptoms,
ere they resolve on the receipt. You see how no niggard I am
of my counsels ; would God, I could as easily assuage your grief
as satisfy your doubts !
TO MR. ROB. HAY.
Epistle VIII. — A Discourse of the continual exercise of a
Christian ; how he may keep his heart from hardness and
his ways from error.
To keep the heart in ure with God is the highest task of a

'Epist. VIII.] Practical Works. 209
Christian. Good motions are not frequent ; but the constancy of
good disposition is rare and hard.
This work must be continual, or else speedeth not : like as the
body, from a settled and habitual distemper, must be recovered by
long diets; and so much the rather, for that we cannot intermit
here without relapses. If this field be not tilled every day, it will
run out into thistles.
The evening is fittest for this work : when retired into ourselves,
we must, cheerfully and constantly, both look up to God and into
our hearts, as we have to do with both : to God in thanksgiving,
first ; then in request.
It shall be therefore expedient for the soul duly to recount to
itself all the specialties of God's favours. A confused thanks
savours of carelessness, and neither doth affect us nor win accept
ance above. Bethink yourself, then, of all these external, inferior,
earthly graces : that your being, breathing, life, motion, reason
is from him ; that he hath given you a more noble nature than
the rest of the creatures, excellent faculties of mind, perfection of
senses, soundness of body, competency of estate, seemliness of con
dition, fitness of calling, preservation from dangers, rescue out of
miseries, kindness of friends, carefulness of education, honesty of
reputation, liberty of recreations, quietness of life, opportunity of
well-doing, protection of angels. Then rise higher, to his spiritual
favours, though here on earth; and strive to raise your affections
with your thoughts : bless God that you were born in the light of
the gospel ; for your profession of the truth ; for the honour of
your vocation ; for your incorporating into the Church ; for the
privilege of the sacraments, tbe free use of the scriptures, the
communion of saints, the benefit of their prayers, the aid of their
counsels, the pleasure of their conversation ; for the beginnings of
regeneration, any footsteps of faith, hope, love, zeal, patience,
peace, joy, conscionableness ; for any desire of more. Then let
your soul mount highest of all, into her heaven; and acknowledge
those celestial graces of her election to glory, redemption from
shame and death ; of the intercession of her Saviour ; of the pre
paration of her place ; and there let her stay a while, upon the
meditation of her future joys.
This done, the way is made for your request. Sue now to
your God; as for grace to answer these mercies, so to see
wherein you have not answered them. From him, therefore,
cast your eyes down upon yourself.; and, as some careful justicer
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. P

210 Practical Works. Decade III.
doth a suspected felon, so do you strictly examine your heart, of
what you have done that day ; of what you should have done :
inquire whether your thoughts have been sequestered to God,
strangers from the world, fixed on heaven ; whether just, charita
ble, lowly, pure, Christian ; whether your senses have been holily
guided, neither to let in temptations, nor to let out sins ; whether
your speeches have not been offensive, vain, rash, indiscreet, un
savoury, unedifying ; whether your actions have been warrantable,
expedient, comely, profitable. Thence, see if you have been neg
ligent in watching your heart, expense of your time, exercises of
devotion, performance of good works, resistance of temptations,
good use of good examples ; and compare your present estate with
the former : look jealously whether your soul hath gained or lost ;
lost aught of the heat of her love, tenderness of conscience, fear to
offend, strength of virtue; gained more increase of grace, more
assurance of glory. And when you find (alas ! who can but find ?)
either holiness decayed, or evil done, or good omitted, cast down
your eyes, strike your breast, humble your soul, and sigh to him
whom you have offended; sue for pardon as for life, heartily,
yearningly : enjoin yourself careful amendment ; redouble your
holy resolutions ; strike hands with God in a new covenant. My
soul for your safety.
Much of this good counsel I confess to have learned from the
table of an unknown author at Antwerp. It contented me, and
therefore I have thus made it, by many alterations, my own for
form, and yours for the use : our practice shall both commend it
and make us happy.
TO MR. I. F.
ONE OF THE COMPANY OF THE TURKISH MERCHANTS.
Epistle IX. — Discoursing ofthe lawfulness of conversation and
trade with infidels and heretics; and showing how far,
and wherein, it is allowable.
In matter of sin, I dare not discommend much fear : looseness
is both a more ordinary fault, and more dangerous than excess
of care : yet herein the mind may be unjustly tortured, and suffer
without gain. It is good to know our bounds, and keep them ;
that so we may neither be carelessly offensive, nor needlessly
afflicted. How far we may travel to and converse with infidels, with

Epist. IX.] Practical Works. 211
heretics, is a long demand ; and cannot be answered at once. I see
extremes on both hands, and a path of truth betwixt both of no
small latitude.
First, I commend not this course to you ; it is well if I allow it.
The earth is large, and truth hath ample dominions ; and those
not incommodious, not unpleasant. To neglect the main blessings
with competency of the inferior, for abundance of the inferior
without the main, were a choice unwise and unequal. While we
are free, who would take aught but the best ? Whither go you ?
Have we not as temperate a sun, as fair an heaven, as fertile an
earth, as rich a sea, as sweet companions ? What stand I on
equality ? a firmer peace, a freer gospel, a happier government
than the world can show you ?
Yet you must go. I give you my allowance, but limited and
full of cautions ; like an inquisitive officer, you must let me ask,
who, how, when, whither, why, how long ; and accordingly de
termine. To communicate with them in their false services, who will not
spit at as impious ? We speak of conversing with men, not with
idolatries ; civilly, not in religion ; not in works of darkness, but
business of commerce and common indifferences. Fie on those
Rimmonites, that plead an upright soul in a prostrate body ;
hypocrites, that pretend a Nathanael in the skin of a Nicodemus.
God hates their secret halting, and will revenge it.
Let go their vices ; speak of their persons. Those may be con
versed with ; not with familiarity, not with entireness ; as men
qualified, not as friends. Traffick is here allowed, not amity ; not
friendship, but peace. Paul will allow you to feast at their table,
not to frequent it.
Yet, not this, to all. Christianity hath all statures in it, all
strengths : children, and men ; weaklings, giants. For a feeble
ungrounded Christian, this very company is dangerous ; safe, for
the strong and instructed. Turn a child loose into an apothecary's
shop, or an idiot; that gallipot which looks fairest shall have
his first hand, though full of poisonous drugs ; where the judi
cious would choose the wholesomest, led not by sense, but skill.
Settledness in the truth will cause us to hate and scorn ridiculous
impiety; and that hate will settle us the more, where the
unstayed may grow to less dislike, and endanger his own infection.
He had need be a resolute Caleb that should go to see the land
of Canaan. p i

212 Practical Works. [Decade III.
Yet not such a one upon every occasion. Mere pleasure or
curiosity I dare not allow in this adventure : the command of au
thority, or necessity of traffick, I cannot reject : or, if, after suffi
cient prevention, desire to inform ourselves thoroughly in a foreign
religion or state, especially for public use, carry us abroad, I cen
sure not. In all matter of danger, a calling is a good warrant ;
and it cannot want peril, to go unsent.
Neither is there small weight in the quality of the place and
continuance of the time. It is one case, where the profession of
our religion is free ; another, where restrained, perhaps not with
out constraint to idolatry : where we have means for our souls,
an allowed ministry, the case must needs differ from a place
of necessary blindness, of peevish superstition. To pass through
an infected place, is one thing ; to dwell in it, another : each of
these give a new state to the cause, and looks for a diverse an
swer. But, as in all these outward actions, so here, most force, I con
fess, lies in the intention ; which is able to give, not toleration
only to our travel, but praise. To converse with them without,
but in a purpose of their conversion, and with endeavour to fetch
them in, can be no other than an holy course : wherein that the
Jesuits have been, by their own saying, more serviceable in their
Indies and China ; let them thank, after their number and leisure,
their shelter of Spain : the opportunity of whose patronage hath
preferred them to us ; not their more forward desires.
In short, companying with infidels may not be simply con
demned. Who can hold so, that sees Lot in Sodom ; Israel, with
the Egyptians ; Abraham and Isaac, with their Abimelechs ;
roses, among thorns ; and pearls, among much mud ; and, for all,
Christ among publicans and sinners ? So we neither be infected
by them, nor they further infected by our confirmation, nor the
weak Christian by us infected with offence, nor the gospel in
fected with reproach ; what danger can there be ? If neither we,
nor they, nor the weak, nor, which is highest, the name of God,
be wronged, who can complain ?
You have mine opinion : dispose now of yourself as you dare.
The earth is the Lord's, and you are his : wheresoever he shall
find you, be sure you shall find him everywhere.

Epist. X.] Practical Works. 213
TO THE GENTLEMEN OF HIS HIGHNESS'S COURT.
Epistle X. — A Description of a good and faithful courtier.
While I adventured other characters into the light, I reserved
one for you, whom I account no small part of my joy — the cha
racter of what you are, of what you should be.
Not that I arrogate to myself more than ordinary skill in these
high points. I desire not to describe a courtier : how should I,
that have but seen and saluted the seat of princes? or why
should I, whose thoughts are sequestered to the court of heaven ?
But if I would decipher a good courtier, who can herein control
my endeavour? Goodiiess, in all forms, is but the just subject of
our profession. What my observation could not, no less certain
rule shall afford me. Our discourse hath this freedom ; that it
may reach beyond our eyes, with belief. If your experience
agree not with my speculation, distrust me. I care not for their
barking, which condemn me at first of incongruity : as if these
two terms were so dissonant, that one sentence could not hold
them. The poet slanders that abandons all good men from courts.
Who knows not, that the Egyptian court had a Moses ; the court
of Samaria, an Obadiah; of Jerusalem, an Ebedmelech; of Damas
cus, a Naaman ; of Babylon, a Daniel ; of Ethiopia, a good trea
surer ; and very Nero's court, in Paul's time, his saints ? that I
may not tell, how the courts of Christian princes have»been likened,
by our ecclesiastical historians, to some royal colleges, for their
order, gravity, goodness mixed with their majesty ; and that I
may willingly forbear to compare, as but for envy I durst, yours
with theirs.
I speak boldly : the court is as nigh to heaven as the cell ; and
doth no less require and admit strict holiness. I banish, there
fore, hence all impiety ; and dare presage his ruin whose founda
tion is not laid in goodness.
Our courtier is no other than virtuous ; and serves the God of
heaven as his first Master ; and from him derives his duty to
these earthen gods ; as one that knows the thrones of heaven and
eartli are not contrary, but subordinate, and that best obedience
springs from devotion.
His ability and will have both conspired to make him perfectly
serviceable, and his diligence waits but for an opportunity.
In the factions of some great rivals of honour, he holds himself

214 Practical Works. [Decade III.
in a free neutrality ; accounting it safer in unjust frays to look
on than to strike ; and if necessity of occasion will needs wind
him into the quarrel, he chooses not the stronger -part, but the
better ; resolving rather to fall with innocence and truth, than to
stand with powerful injustice.
In the changes of favours and frowns, he changeth not. His
sincere honesty bears him through all alterations with wise
boldness, if not with success ; and when he spies clouds in the eyes
of his prince, which yet of long he will not seem to see, his clear
heart gives him a clear face ; and if he may be admitted, his
loyal breath shall soon dispel those vapours of ill suggestion : but
if, after all attempts of wind and sun, he sees them settled, and
the might of his accusers will not let him seem as he is, he gives
way in silence, without stomach, and waits upon time.
He is not over hastily intent upon his own promotion, as one
that seeks his prince, not himself ; and studies more to deserve
than rise ; scorning either to grow great by his own bribes, or
rich by the bribes of others.
His officious silence craves more than others' words ; and if
that language be not heard nor understood, he opens his mouth,
yet late and sparingly, without bashfulness, without importunity ;
caring only to motion, not caring to plead.
He is affable and courteous ; not vainly popular, abasing his
prince's favour to woo the worthless applause of the vulgar :
approving by* his actions that he seeks one, not many ; if not
rather one in many.
His alphabet is his prince's disposition ; which, once learned,
he plies with diligent service, not with flattery : not commending
every action as good ; nor the best too much, and in presence.
When he finds an apparent growth of favour, he dares not glory
in it to others, lest he should solicit their envy and hazard the
shame of his own fall ; but enjoys it in quiet thankfulness, not
neglecting it, nor drawing it on too fast. Overmuch forwardness
argues no perpetuity : how oft have we known the weak begin
nings of a likely fire scattered with overstrong a blast ? And if
another rise higher, he envieth not ; only emulating that man's
merit, and suspecting his own. Neither the name of the court,
nor the grace of a prince, nor applause of his inferiors, can lift
him above himself; or lead him to affect any other than a wise
mediocrity. His own sincerity cannot make him over-credulous. They

Epist. X.] Practical Works. 215
are few and well-tried, whom he dares use ; or, perhaps, obliged
by his own favours. So in all employments of friendship he is
wary without suspicion, and without credulity charitable.
He is free, as of heart, so of tongue, to speak what he ought ;
not what he might: never but, what princes' ears are not always
inured to, mere truth : yet that, tempered for the measure and
time, with honest discretion. But if he meet with aught that
might be beneficial to his master or the state, or whose conceal
ment might prove prejudicial to either, neither fear nor gain can
stop his mouth.
He is not basely querulous ; not forward to spend his com
plaints on the disgraced : not abiding, to build his own favours,
upon the unjust ruins of an oppressed fortune. The errors of his
fellows he reports with favour, their virtues with advantage.
He is a good husband of his hours ; equally detesting idleness
and base disports : and placing all his free time upon ingenuous
studies or generous delights, such as may make either his body
or mind more fit for noble service.
He listeth not to come to counsel uncalled ; nor, unbidden, to
intermeddle with secrets, whether of person or state : which yet,
once imposed, he manageth with such fidelity and wisdom, as well
argue him to have refrained, not out of fear, but judgment.
He knows how to repay an injury with thanks, and a benefit
with usury : the one out of a wise patience, without malicious close
ness ; the other, out of a bounteous thankfulness.
His life is his own willing servant and his prince's free vassal ;
which he accounts lent to him, that he may give it for his master:
the intercepting of whose harms he holds both his duty and
honour ; and whether he be used as his sword or his shield, he
doth both with cheerfulness.
He can so demean himself in his officious attendance, that he
equally avoids satiety and oblivion ; not needlessly lavish of him
self, to set out and show his parts always at the highest, nor wil
fully concealed in great occasions.
He loves to deserve and to have friends ; but to trust rather to
his own virtue.
Reason and honesty, next under religion, are his counsellors ;
which he follows, without care of the event, not without foresight.
In a judgment of unkindness and envy, he never casts the first
stone ; and hates to pick thanks by detraction.
He undertakes none but worthy suits, such as are free from

216 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
baseness and injustice ; such as it is neither shame to ask, nor
dishonour to grant : not suffering private affections to overweigh
public equity or convenience ; and better brooking a friend's want
than an ill precedent. And those which he yieldeth to accept,
he loves not to linger in an afflicting hope : a present answer
shall despatch the fears or desires of his expecting client. His
breast is not a cistern to retain, but as a conduit-pipe to vent the
reasonable and honest petitions of his friend.
Finally, he so lives as one that accounts not princes' favours
hereditary ; as one that will deserve their perpetuity, but doubt
their change ; as one that knows there is a wide world beside the
court ; and, above this world, an heaven.

THE FOURTH DECADE.

TO MR. WALTER FITZ WILLIAMS.

Epistle I. — A discourse ofthe true and lawful use of pleasures;
how we may moderate them; how ive may enjoy thein
with safety.
Indeed, wherein stands the use of wisdom, if not in tempering
our pleasures and sorrows ? and so disposing ourselves in spite of
all occurrents, that the world may not blow upon us with an
unequal gale ; neither tearing our sails, nor slackening them ?
Events will vary: if we continue the same, it matters not : nothing
can overturn him that hath power over himself.
Of tbe two, I confess it harder to manage prosperity, and to
avoid hurt from good. Strong and cold winds do but make us
gather up our cloak more round, more close : but, to keep it
about us in a hot sunshine, to run and not sweat, to sweat and
not faint, how difficult it is !
I see some that avoid pleasures for their danger, and which
dare not but abandon lawful delights for fear of sin ; who seem
to me like some ignorant mctallists, which cast away the precious
ore, because they cannot separate the gold from the dross ; or
some simple Jew, that condemns the pure streams of Jordan,
because it falls into the Dead sea. Why do not these men refuse
to eat, because meat hath made many gluttons ? or, how dare
they cover themselves that know there is pride in rags ? These

Epist. I.] Practical Works. 217
hard tutors, if not tyrants to themselves, while they pretend a
mortified strictness, are injurious to their own liberty, to the
liberality of their Maker. Wherefore hath he created and ffiven
the choice commodities of this earth, if not for use ? or why placed
he man in a paradise, not in a desert ? How can we more displease
a liberal friend than to depart from his delicate feast wilfully
hungry ? They are deceived that call this holiness ; it is the
disease of a mind sullen, distrustful, impotent. There is nothing
but evil which is not from heaven ; and he is none of God's friends
that rejects his gifts for his own abuse.
Hear me, therefore, and true philosophy. There is a nearer way
than this, and a fairer : if you will be a wise Christian, tread in it.
Learn, first, by a just survey, to know the due and lawful
bounds of pleasure ; and then beware, either to go beyond a
known mere, or, in the license of your own desires, to remove it.
That God that hath curbed in the fury of that unquiet and foaming
element, and said of old, Here shalt thou stay thy proud waves,
hath done no less for the rage of our appetite. Behold, our
limits are not obscure ; which if we once pass, our inundation is
perilous and sinful. No just delight wanteth either his warrant
or his terms. More plainly, be acquainted both with the qualitv
of pleasures, and the measure : many a soul hath lost itself in a
lawful delight through excess ; and not fewer have perished in
those whose nature is vicious without respect of immoderation :
your care must avoid both : the taste of the one is deadly; of the
other, a full carouse: and, in truth, it is easier for a Christian not
to taste of that, than not to be drunk with this. The ill is more
easily avoided than the indifferent moderated. Pleasure is of a
winding and serpentine nature : admit the head, the body will
ask no leave ; and sooner may you stop the entrance, than stav
the proceeding. Withal, her insinuations are so cunning, that you
shall not perceive your excess till you be sick of a surfeit: a
little honey is sweet ; much, fulsome.
For the attaining of this temper, then, settle in yourself a right
estimation of that wherein you delight.
Resolve every thing into his first matter, and there will be
more danger of contempt than everjoying. What are the goodly
sumptuous buildings we admire, but a little burnt and hardened
earth ? What is the stately and wonderous building of this human
body, whose beauty we dote upon, but the same earth we tread
on, better tempered, but worse when it wants his guest? What

218 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
are those precious metals, whom we worship, but veins of earth
better coloured ? What are costly robes, but such as are given of
worms, and consumed of moths ?
Then, from their beginning, look to their end; and see
laughter conclude in tears, see death in this sweet pot. Thy
conscience scourges thee with a long smart for a short liberty,
and for an imperfect delight gives thee perfect torment : alas,
what an hard pennyworth ! so little pleasure for so much re
pentance ! Enjoy it, if thou canst ; but if, while the sword hangs
over thee in an horse's hair, still threatening his fall and thine,
thou canst be securely jocund, I wonder, but envy not.
Now I hear you recall me ; and, after all my discourse, as no
whit yet wiser, inquire by what rule our pleasures shall be judged
immoderate. We are all friends to ourselves, and our indulgence
will hardly call any favour too much. I send you not, though I
might, to your body, to your calling, for this trial. While your
delights exclude not the presence, the fruition of God, you are
safe : the love of the medicine is no hinderance to the love of
health : let all your pleasures have reference to the highest good,
and you cannot exceed. You see the angels sent about God's
messages to this earth ; yet never out of their heaven, never
without the vision of their Maker. These earthly things cause
not distraction, if we rest not in them ; if we can look through
them to their Giver. The mind that desires them for their own
sakes, and suffers itself taken up with their sweetness. as his main
end, is already drunken. It is not the use of pleasure that of
fends, but the affectation. How many great kings have been
saints ! They could not have been kings, without choice of earthly
delights ; they could not have been saints, with earthly affec
tions. If God have mixed you a sweet cup, drink it cheerfully :
commend the taste, and be thankful ; but rejoice iu it as his. Use
pleasures without dotage ; as in God, from God, to God ; you are
as free from error as miserv.

WRITTEN TO W. F.
AND DEDICATED TO MR. ROBERT JERMIN
Epistle II. — A discourse ofthe bloody use of single combats ; the
injustice of all pretences of their laivfulness : setting forth the
danger and sinfulness of this false and unchristian manhood.
You have received a proud challenge, and now hold yourself

Epist. II.] Practical Works. 219
bound, upon terms of honour, to accept it. Hear, first, the an
swer of a friend, before you give an answer to your enemy ; re
ceive the counsel of love, ere you enter those courses of revenge.
Think not you may reject me, because my profession is peace : I
speak from him, which is not only the Prince of Peace, but the
God of hosts ; of whom if you will not learn to manage your hand
and your sword, I shall grieve to see that courage hath made
you rebellious. Grant once that you are a Christian, and this
victory is mine ; I overcome, and you fight not. Would God the
fury of men's passions could be_ as easily conquered as their
judgments convinced ! how many thousands had been free from
blood ! This conceit of false fortitude hath cost well near as many
lives as lawful war, or, as opinion of heresy. Let me tell you
with confidence, that all duels or single combats are murderous ;
blanch them over how you list with names of honour and honest
pretences, their use is sinful and their nature devilish.
Let us two, if you please, beforehand, enter into these lists of
words. Let reason, which is a more harmless fight, conflict with
reason. Take whom you will with you into this field, of all the
philosophers, civilians, canonists; for divines, I hope you shall
find none ; and let the right of this truth be tried upon a just
induction. I onlv premise this caution, lest we quarrel about the cause of
this quarrel, that necessity must be excluded from these unlawful
fights ; which ever alters their quality and removes their evil :
the defence of our life, the injunction of a magistrate, are ever
excepted : voluntary combats are only questioned ; or, whose ne
cessity we do not find, but make. There are not many causes
that can draw us forth single into the field with colour of equity.
Let the first be the trial of some hidden right; whether of
innocence upon a false accusation, or of title to inheritance not
determinable by course of laws ; a proceeding not tolerable
among Christians, because it wants both warrant and certainty.
Where ever did God bid thee hazard thy life for thy name ?
where did he promise to second thee ? When thou art without
thy commandment, without his promise, thou art without thy
protection. He takes charge of thee but when thou art in thy
ways ; yea, in his. If this be God's way, where did he chalk it
out ? If thou want his word, look not for his aid. Miserable is
that man, which, in dangerous actions, is left to his own keeping ;
yea, how plainly doth the event show God's dislike ! How oft

220 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
hath innocence lien bleeding in these combats, and guiltiness in
sulted in the conquest ! Those very decretals (whom we oft cite
not, often trust not) report the inequality of this issue. Two
raen are brought to the bar ; one accuses the other of theft,
without further evidence, either to clear or convince. The sword
is called for ; both witness and judge. They meet, and combat.
The innocent party is slain. The stolen goods are found after in
other hands, and confessed. 0 the injustice of human sentences!
0 wretched estate of the party miscarried ! His good name is lost
with his life, which he would have redeemed with his valour : he
both dies and sins, while he strives to seem clear of a sin. There
fore men say he is guilty, because he is dead ; while the other's
wickedness is rewarded with glory. I am deceived, if, in this
case, there were not three murderers; the judge, the adversary,
himself. Let no man challenge God for neglect of innocence,
but rather magnify him for revenge of presumption. What he
enjoins, that he undertakes, he maintains : who art thou, 0 vain
man, that darest expect him a party in thine own brawls ? " But
there is no other way of trial." Better none, than this. Inno-
cency or land is questioned ; and now we send two men into the
lists, to try whether is the better fencer : what is the strength
or skill of the champions to the justice of the cause? Wherefore
serve our own oaths ? whereto witness, records, lotteries, and
other purgations? or why put we not men as well to the old
Saxon or Livonian ordalian trials of hot irons or scalding liquors?
It is far better some truths should be unknown than unlawfully
searched. Another cause, seemingly warrantable, may be the determining
of war, prevention of common bloodshed. Two armies are ready
to join battle : the field is sure to be bloody on both sides : either
part chooses a champion : they two fight for all : the life of one
shall ransom a thousand. Our philosophers, our lawyers shout
for applause of this monomachy ; as a way near, easy, safe : I
dare not. Either the war is just or unjust : if unjust, the hazard
of one is too much ; if just, too little. The cause of a just war
must be, besides true, important: the title compion, wherein still
a whole state is interested ; therefore may not, without rashness
and temptation of God, be cast upon two hands. The holy story
never records any but a barbarous Philistine to make this offer;
and that, in the presumption of his unmatchableness. Profane
monuments report many, and some on this ground wisely rejected.

Epist. IL] Practical Works. 221
Tullus challenged Albanus, that the right of the two hosts might
be decided by the two captains : he returned a grave reply, which
I never read noted of cowardice, That this suit of honour stood not
in them two, but in the two cities of Alba and Romea. All causes
of public right are God's : when we put to our hand in God's
cause, then may we look for his. In vain we hope for success,
if we do not our utmost : wherefore, either war must be deter
mined without swords or with many. Why should all the heads
of the commonwealth stand upon the neck and shoulders of one
champion? If he miscarry, it is injury to lose her; if he prevail,
yet it is injury to hazard her. Yet, respecting the parties them
selves, I cannot but grant it nearest to equity, and the best of
combats, that some blood should be hazarded, that more might
be out of hazard.
I descend to your case, which is yet farther from likelihood of
approof ; for what can you plead but your credit, others' opinion ?
You fight, not so much against another's life, as your own re
proach : you are wronged, and now if you challenge not, or jrou
are challenged, and if you accept not, the world condemns you
for a coward. Who would not rather hazard his life than blemish
his reputation? It were well if this resolution were as wise as
gallant. If I speak to a Christian, this courage must be rectified. Tell
me, what world is "this whose censure you fear? Is it not that
which God hath branded long ago with positus in maligno ?
[1 John v. 19.J Is it not that which hath ever misconstrued, dis
couraged, disgraced, persecuted goodness ? that which reproached,
condemned your Saviour ? What do you under these colours, if
you regard the favour of that whose, amity is enmity with God?
What care you for the censure of him whom you should both
scorn and vanquish? Did ever wise Christians, did ever your
Master, allow either this manhood or this fear ? Was there ever
any thing more strictly, more fearfully forbidden of him, than
revenge, in the challenge ; than in the answer, payment of evil ;
and murder in both ? It is pity that ever the water of baptism
was spilt upon his face that cares more to discontent the world
than to wrong God : he saith, Vengeance is mine ; and you steal
it from him in a glorious theft, hazarding your soul more than
¦ £Liv. 1. i. c. 23 : see also Dion. Halie.]

222 Practical Works. [Decade IV-
your body. You are weary of yourself, while you thrust one part
upon the sword of an enemy, the other on God's.
Yet perhaps I have yielded too much. Let go Christians ; the
wiser world of men (and who else are worth respect ?) will not
pass this odious verdict upon your refusal. Valiant men have re
jected challenges with their honours untainted. Augustus, when
he received a defiance and brave appointment of combat from
Anthony, could answer him. That if Anthony were weary of living,
there were ways enow besides to death b : and that Scythian king
returned no other reply to John, the emperor of Constantinople :
and Metellus, challenged by Sertorius, durst answer scornfully
with his pen, not with his sword, That it was not for a captain to
die a soldier's death c. Was it not dishonourable for these wise
and noble heathens to turn off these desperate offers, what law
hath made it so with us ? Shall I seriously tell you ? Nothing but
the mere opinion of some humorous gallants, that have more
heart than brain, confirmed by a more idle custom ; worthy
grounds whereon to spend both life and soul ! whereon to neglect
God, himself, posterity !
Go now and take up that sword, of whose sharpness you have
boasted, and hasten to the field ; whether you die or kill, you have
murdered. If you survive, you are haunted with the conscience
of blood ; if you die, with the torments ; and if neither of these,
yet it is murder, that you would have killed. See whether the
fame of a brave fight can yield you a countervailable redress of
these mischiefs; how much more happily valiant had it been to
master vourself; to fear sin more than shame; to contemn the
world ; to pardon a wrong ; to prefer true Christianity before
idle manhood, to live and do well !

TO MR. MATTHEW MILWARD.
Epistle III. — A discourse ofthe pleasure of study and contem
plation, with the varieties qf scholar-like employments ; not
without incitation of others thereunto ; and a censure of their
neglect.I can wonder at nothing more than how a man can be idle ;
but, of all other, a scholar ; in so many improvements of reason,
b [Plutarch, in vit. Antonii.] c [Id. in vit. Sertorii.]

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 223
in such sweetness of knowledge, in such variety of studies, in
such importunity of thoughts.
Other artisans do but practise ; we, still learn ; others run still
in the same gyre, to weariness, to satiety ; our choice is infinite :
other labours require recreations ; our very labour recreates our
sports : we can never want, either somewhat to do, or somewhat
that we would do.
How numberless are those volumes which men have written of
arts, of tongues ! how endless is that volume which God hath
written of the world ! wherein every creature is a letter, every
day a new page ; who can be weary of either of these ? To find
wit in poetry ; in philosophy, profoundness ; in mathematics,
acuteness ; in history, wonder of events ; in oratory, sweet elo
quence ; in divinity, supernatural light and holy devotion ; as so
many rich metals in their proper mines ; whom would it not ravish
with delight!
After all these, let us but open our eyes, we cannot look beside
a lesson, in this universal book of our Maker, worth our study,
worth taking out. What creature hath not his miracle ? what
event doth not challenge his observation ? And if, weary of foreign
employment, we list to look home into ourselves, there we find a
more private world of thoughts, which set us on work anew, more
busily, not less profitably : now our silence is vocal, our solitariness
popular ; and we are shut up to do good unto many.
And if once we be cloyed with our own company, the door of
conference is open ; here, interchange of discourse, besides plea
sure, benefits us ; and he is a weak companion from whom we
return net wiser.
I could envy, if I could believe, that anchorite, who, secluded
from the world, and pent up in his voluntary prison-walls, denied
that he thought the day long, while yet he wanted learning to
vary his thoughts. Not to be cloyed with the same conceit is
difficult above human strength ; but to a man so furnished with
all sorts of knowledge, that according to his dispositions he can
change his studies, I should wonder that ever the sun should
seem to pace slowly. How many busy tongues chase away good
hours in pleasant chat, and complain of the haste of night ! what
ingenuous mind can be sooner weary of talking with learned authors,
the most harmless and sweetest of companions ? what an heaven
lives a scholar in, that at once, in one close room, can daily con
verse with all the glorious martyrs and fathers ! that can single

224 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
out at pleasure, either sententious Tertullian, or grave Cyprian,
or resolute Jerome, or flowing Chrysostom, or divine Ambrose, or
devout Bernard, or, who alone is all these, heavenly Augustin ;
and talk with them, and hear their wise and holy counsels, ver
dicts, resolutions ; yea, to rise higher, with courtly Isaiah, with
learned Paul, with all their fellow prophets, apostles ; yet more,
like another Moses, with God himself, in them both ! Let the
world contemn us : while we have these delights we cannot envy
them ; we cannot wish ourselves other than we are.
Besides, the way to all other contentments is troublesome; the
only recompense is in the end. To delve in the mines, to scorch
in the fire, for the getting, for the fining of gold, is a slavish toil ;
the comfort is in the wedge; to the owner, not the labourers:
where our very search of knowledge is delightsome. Study itself
is our life, from which we would not be barred for a world ; how
much sweeter then is the fruit of study, the conscience of know
ledge ! in comparison whereof, the soul that hath once tasted it
easily contemns all human comforts.
Go now, ye worldlings, and insult over our paleness, our needi-
ness, our neglect. Ye could not be so jocund if you were not ig
norant ; if you did not want knowledge, you could not overlook
him that hath it. For me, I am so far from emulating you, that
I profess, I would as lief be a brute beast as an ignorant rich
man. How is it, then, that those gallants, which have privilege of blood
and birth, and better education, do so scornfully turn off these
most manly, reasonable, noble exercises of scholarship ? An hawk
becomes their fist better than a book ; no dog, but is a better
companion ; any thing, or nothing, rather than what we ought.
0 minds brutishly sensual ! Do they think that God made them
for disport, who, even in his paradise, would not allow pleasure
without work ? and if for business, either of body or mind, those
of the body are commonly servile, like itself; the mind there
fore, the mind only, that honourable and divine part, is fittest to
be employed of those which would reach to the highest perfection
of men, and would be more than the most. And what work is
there of the mind, but the trade of a scholar, study ? Let me,
therefore, fasten this problem on our school-gates, and challenge
all comers in the defence of it, that, ' No scholar cannot be truly
noble ;' and if I make it not good, let me never be admitted far
ther than to the subject of our question.

Epist. IV.] Practical Works. 225
Thus we do well to congratulate to ourselves our own happiness.
If others will come to us, it shall be our comfort, but more theirs ;
if not, it is enough that we can joy in ourselves, and in Him in
whom we are that we are.

TO MR. J. P.

Epistle IV. — A discourse qf the increase of popery ; of the oath
qf allegiance ; and the just sufferings of those which
have refused it.
You say your religion daily winneth. Brag not of your gain :
you neither need nor can, if you consider how it gets, and whom.
How, but by cunning sleights, false suggestions, impudent untruths?
who cannot thus prevail against a quiet and innocent adversary ?
Whom, but silly women, or men notoriously debauched ? a spoil fit
for such a conquest, for such victors.
We are the fewer, not the worse. If all our licentious hypocrites
were yours, we should not complain ; and you might be the prouder,
not the better. Glory you in this triumph, free from our envy ;
who know we have lost none, but, by whom you save nothing,
either loose or simple.
It were pity that you should not forego some in a better ex
change. The sea never encroacheth upon our shore but it loseth
elsewhere. Some we have happily fetched into the fold of our
Church out of your wastes ; some others, though few and scarce
a number, we have sent into their heaven.
Amongst these, your late second Garnet lived to proclaim him
self a martyr; and, by dying, persuaded. Poor man, how happy
were he, if he might be his own judge ! That which gave him con
fidence would give him glory. You believe, and well-near adore
him. That fatal cord of his was too little for relics, though di
vided into mathematic quantities.
Whither cannot conceit lead us ? whether for his resolution or
your credulity ? His death was fearless. I commend his stomach,
not his mind. How many malefactors have we known that have
laughed upon their executioner, and jested away their last wind !
You might know. It is not long since our Norfolk Arian leaped
at his stake. How oft have you learned in martyrdom to regard
not the death, but the cause ! else, there should be no difference
in guilt and innocence, error and truth.
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. «

226 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
What then ! died he for religion ? This had been but your
own measure : we endured your flames which these gibbets could
not acquit. But dare impudence itself affirm it? not for mere
shame, against the evidence of so many tongues, ears, records.
Your prosperity, your numbers argue enough, that a man may
be a papist in Britain, and live. If treason be your religion, who
will wonder that it is capital ? Defy that devil which hath mocked
you with this mad opinion, that treachery is holiness ; devotion,
cruelty and disobedience.
I foresee your evasion. Alas ! it is easy for a spiteful con
struction to fetch religion within this compass ; and to say the
swelling of the fox's forehead is a horn.
Nay then, let us fetch some honest heathen to be a judge be
twixt us. Mere nature in him shall speak unpartially of both.
To hold and persuade, that a Christian king may, yea must, at
the pope's will be dethroned and murdered ; is it the voice of
treason or religion ? and if traitorous, whether flatly or by mis-
inferring ? Besides his practices, for this he died : witness your
own catholics.
0 God, if this be religion, what can be villany ? Who ever
died a malefactor, if this be martyrdom ? If this position be meri
torious of heaven, hell is feared in vain. 0 holy Syllse, Marii,
Catilines, Cades, Lopezes, Gowries, Fauxes, and whoever have
conspired against lawful majesty; all martyrs of Rome; all saints
of Becket's heaven. How well do those palms of celestial triumph
become hands red with the sacred blood of God's anointed ! I am
ashamed to think that humanity should nourish such monsters,
whether of men or opinions.
But you defy this savage factiousness, this devotion of devils ;
and honestly wish both God and Cassar his own. I praise your
moderation ; but, if you be true, let me yet search you. Can a
man be a perfect papist without this opinion against it? If he
^may, then your Garnet and Drury died not for religion; if he
may not, then popery is treason. Choose now whether you will
leave your martyrs or your religion. What you hold of merit,
free will, transubstantiation, invocation of saints, false adoration,
supremacy of Rome, no man presses, no man inquires; your
present inquisition, your former examples, would teach us ; mercy
will not let us learn. The only question is. Whether our king
may live and rule ; whether you may refrain from his blood, and
not sin. Would you have a man deny this, and not die ? Would

Epist. IV.] Practical Works. 227
you have a man thus dying, honoured? Dare you approve that
religion which defends the fact, canonizes the person ?
I hear your answer from that your great championd, which not
many days since, with one blow, hath driven out three, not slight,
wedges : that not civil obedience is stood upon, but positive doctrine :
that you are ready to swear for the king's safety, not against the
pope's authority : king James must live and reign, but Paulus
Quintuse must rule and be obeyed; and better were it for you to
die, than your sworn allegiance should prejudice the see apostolic.
An elusion fit for children ! What is to dally, if not this ? As
if he said, the king shall live, unless the pope will not : that he
shall not be discrowned, deposed, massacred by your hands ; un
less your holy father should command.
But (I ask, as who should not?) What if he do command? What
if your Paulus Quintus shall breathe out, like his predecessors,
not threatenings, but strong bellowings of excommunications, of
deposition of God's anointed 1 What, if he shall command, after that
French fashion, the throats of all heretics to bleed in a night ?
Pardon you in this. Now it is grown a point of doctrinal
divinity, to determine how far the power of Peter's successor
may extend. You may neither swear nor say your hands shall
not be steeped in the blood of your true sovereign ; and to die
rather than swear it, is martyrdom.
But what if heaven fall, say you ? His holiness, as you hope,
will take none such courses. Woe were us, if our safety depended
upon your hopes or his mercies. Blessed be that God, which,
malgre, hath made and kept us happy, and hath lifted us above
our enemies. But what hope is there that he, who chargeth
subjects not to swear allegiance, will never discharge them from
allegiance ? that those who clamorously and shamelessly com
plain to the world of our cruelty, will forbear to solicit others'
cruelty to us ? Your hopes, to you ; to us, our securities.
Is this the religion you father upon those Christian patriarchs
of the primitive age ? 0 blessed Ireney, Clemens, Cyprian, Basil,
Chrysostom, Augustin, Jerome, and thou, the severest exactor of
just censures, holy Ambrose ! how would you have spit at such a
rebellious assertion !
d "The Judgment of a Catholic Eng- writers Vice-Deus. The same title was
lishman banished, &o., concerning the given to Gregory the Great. See Letters
Apology of the Oath of Allegiance, en- appended to Bp. Bedell's Life, pp. 365,
titled, Triplici nodo, <£•<•." &c. Lond. 1685.]
e [Paul V. styled by certain Romish
. Q 2

228 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
What speak I of fathers ; whose very mention in such a cause
were injury, were impiety? Which of those cursed heresies of
ancient times, for to them I hold it fitter to appeal, have ever
been so desperately shameless as to breed, to maintain a conceit
so palpably unnatural ? unless, perhaps, those old Antitacta? may
upon general terms be compelled to patronise it, while they held
it piety to break the laws of their Maker.
For you, if you profess not to love willing errors, by this
suspect and judge the rest. You see this defended with equal
resolution, and with no less cheerful expense of blood. In the
body, where you see one monstrous deformity, you cannot affect ;
if you can do so in your religion, yet how dare you ? since the
greater half of it stands on no other ground. Only, God make
you wise and honest, you shall shake hands with this faction of
popery ; and I with you, to give you a cheerful welcome into the
bosom of the Church.

TO MY BROTHER MR. SA. HALL.
Epistle. V. — A discourse of the great charge qf the ministerial
function; together with particular directions for due
preparation thereunto, and carriage therein.
It is a great and holy purpose, dear brother, that you have
entertained, of serving God in his Church ; for what higher or
more worthy employment can there be than to do these divine
duties to such a Master and such a mother ?
Wherein yet I should little rejoice, if any necessity had cast
you upon this refuge ; for I hate and grieve to think, that any
desperate mind should make divinity but a shift, and dishonour
this mistress, by being forsaken of the world. This hath been the
drift of your education ; to this you were born, and dedicated in
a direct course.
I do willingly encourage you, but not without many cautions.
Enter not into so great a service without much foresight : when
your hand is at the plough, it is too late to look back. Bethink
yourself seriously of the weight of this charge ; and let your holy
desire be allayed with some trembling.
It is a foolish rashness of young heads, when they are in
God's chair, to wonder how they came thither ; and to forget the
awfulness of that place in the confidence of their own strength ;
which is ever so much less, as it is more esteemed.

Epist. V.] Practical Works. 229
I commend not the wayward excuses of Moses, nor the peremp
tory unwillingness of Ammoniuse and friar Thomas, who maimed
themselves, that they might be wilfully uncapable.
Betwixt both these, there is an humble modesty and religious
fearfulness ; easily to he noted in those whom the Church honours
with the name of her fathers ; worthy your iraitation : wherein
yet you shall need no precedents, if you well consider what worth
of parts, what strictness of carriage, what weight of offices, God
expects in this vocation.
Know first, that in this place, there will be more holiness
required of you than in the ordinary station of a Christian ; for
whereas, before, you were but as a common line, now God sets you
for a copy of sanctification unto others, wherein every fault is both
notable and dangerous.
Here is looked for, a settled acquaintance with God ; and ex
perience both of the proceedings of grace, and of the offers and
repulses of temptations ; which in vain we shall hope to manage
in other hearts, if we have not found in our own. To speak by
aim or rote of repentance, of contrition, of the degrees of re
generation and faith, is both harsh, and seldom when not un
profitable. We trust those physicians best which have tried the
virtue of their drugs, esteeming not of those which have only
borrowed of their books.
Here will be expected a free and absolute government of
affections ; that you can so steer your own vessel, as not to be
transported with fury, with self-love, with immoderation of plea
sures, of cares, of desires; with excess of passions : in all which,
so must you demean yourself, as one that thinks he is no man of
the world, but of God ; as one, too good by his double calling for
that which is either the felicity or impotency of beasts.
Here must be continual and inward exercise of mortification
and severe Christianity : whereby the heart is held in due awe ;
and the weak flames of the spirit quickened, the ashes of our
dulness blown off: a practice necessary in him whose devotion
must set many hearts on fire.
Here must be wisdom and inoffensiveness of carriage ; as of
one that goes ever under monitors, and that knows other men's
indifferences are his evils. No man hath such need to keep a
strict mean. Setting aside contempt, even in observation ; behold,
we are made a gazingstock to the world, to angels, to men.
' [Socr. Hist. Eccl. iv. 23.]

230 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
The very sail of your estate must be moderated : which if it hear
too high, as seldom, it incurs the censure of profusion and epi
curism ; if too low, of a base and unbeseeming earthliness. Your
hand may not be too close for others' need, nor too open for
your own. Your conversation may not be rough and sullen, nor
over familiar and fawning ; whereof the one breeds a conceit of
pride and strangeness ; the other, contempt : not loosely merry,
nor cynically unsociable: not contentious in small injuries; in
great, not hurtfully patient to the Church. Your attire (for whither
do not censures reach?) not youthfully wanton; not, in these years,
affectedly ancient : but grave and comely, like the mind, like the
behaviour of the wearer. Your gesture like your habit ; neither
savouring of giddy lightness, nor overly insolence, nor wanton
ness, nor dull neglect of yourself: but such as may beseem a
mortified mind full of worthy spirits. Your speech hke your
gesture ; not scurrilous, not detracting, not idle, not boasting,
not rotten, not peremptory : but honest, mild, fruitful, savoury ;
and such as may both argue and work grace. Your deliberations
mature ; your resolutions well grounded ; your devices sage and
holy. Wherein let me advise you to walk ever in the beaten road of
the Church, not to run out into singular paradoxes. And if you
meet at any time with private conceits, that seem more probable,
suspect them and yourself : and if they can win you to assent, yet
smother them in your breast ; and do not dare to vent them out,
either by your hand or tongue, to trouble the common peace. It
is a miserable praise, to be a witty disturber. Neither will it
serve you to be thus good alone : but if God shall give you the
honour of this estate, the world will look you should be the grave
guide of a well-ordered family. For this is proper to us, that the
vices of our charge reflect upon us ; the sins of others are our
reproach. If another man's children miscarry, the parent is
pitied ; if a minister's, censured ; yea, not our servant is faulty
without our blemish. In all these occasions, a misery incident to
us alone, our grief is our shame.
To descend nearer unto the sacred affairs of this heavenly
trade : in a minister, God's Church is accounted both his house
to dwell in and his field to work in : wherein, upon the penalty
of a curse, he faithfully, wisely, diligently, devoutly deals with
God, for his people ; with his people, for and from God. Whether
he instruct, he must do it with evidence of the Spirit : or whether

Epist. VI.] Practical Works. 231
he reprove, with courage and zeal : or whether he exhort, with
meekness ; and yet with power : or whether he confute, with de
monstration of truth ; not with rage and personal maliciousness ;
not with a wilful heat of contradiction : or whether he admonish,
with longsuffering and love ; without prejudice and partiality : in
a word, all these he so doth, as he that desires nothing but to
honour God and save men. His wisdom must discern betwixt his
sheep and wolves ; in his sheep, betwixt the wholesome and un
sound ; in the unsound, betwixt the weak and tainted ; in the
tainted, betwixt the natures, qualities, degrees of the disease, and
infection : and to all these he must know to administer a word in
season. He hath antidotes for all temptations, counsels for all
doubts, evictions for all errors, for all languishings encourage
ments. No occasion from any altered estate of the soul may find
him unfurnished. He must ascend to God's altar with much
awe, with sincere and cheerful devotion ; so taking, celebrating,
distributing his Saviour, as thinking himself at table in heaven
with the blessed angels. In the mean time, as he wants not a
thankful regard to the Master of the feast, so not care of the
guests : the greatness of an offender may not make him sacrile
giously partial, nor the obscurity negligent.
I have said little of any of our duties ; and of some, nothing :
yet enough, I think, to make you, if not timorous, careful. Neither
would I have you hereupon to hide yourself from this calling, but
to prepare yourself for it. These times call for them that are
faithful ; and if they may spare some learning, conscience they
cannot. Go on happily ; it argues a mind Christianly noble, to
be encouraged with the need of his labours, with the difficulties.

TO MRS. A. P.
Epistle VI.— A discourse ofthe signs and pooofs of a true faith.
There is no comfort in a secret felicity. To be happy, and not
know it, is little above miserable.
Such is your state : only herein better than the common case
of the most ; that the well of life lies open before you, but your
eyes, like Hagar's, are not open to see it ; while they have neither
water nor eyes. We do not much more want that which we have
not, than that which we do not know we have.

Practical Works. [Decade IV.
Let me sell you some of that spiritual eyesalve which the Spirit
commends to his Laodiceans, that you may clearly see how well
you are. There is nothing but those scales betwixt you and hap
piness. Think not much that I espy in you what yourself sees not : too
much nearness ofttimes hindereth sight; and if for the spots of
our own faces we trust others' eyes, why not for our perfections ?
You are in heaven, and know it not : He that believes is already
passed from death to life : you believe, while you complain of
unbelief. If you complained not, I should misdoubt you more
than you do yourself, because you complain. Secure and insolent
presumption hath killed many : that breathes nothing but confi
dence and safety, and abandons all doubts, and condemns them.
That man never believed that never doubted. This liquor of faith
is never pure in these vessels of clay without these lees of dis
trust. What then ? Think not, that I encourage you to doubt more ;
but persuade you not to be discouraged with doubting. All un
certainty is comfortless : those that teach men to conjecture, and
forbid to resolve, read lectures of misery. Those doubts are but
to make way for assurance ; as the oft shaking of the tree fastens
it more at the root.
You are sure of God ; but you are afraid of yourself. The
doubt is not in his promise, but your application. Look into your
own heart. How know you that you know any thing ; that you
believe, that you will, that you approve, that you affect any
thing ? If a man like yourself promise you aught, you know
whether you trust him, whether you rely yourself on his fidelity.
Why can you not know it in him that is God and man ? The dif
ference is not in the act, but the object.
But if these habits, because of their inward and ambiguous
nature, seem hard to be descried, turn your eyes to those open
marks that cannot beguile you. How many have bragged of
their faith, when they have embraced nothing but a vain cloud
of presumption ! Every man repeats his Creed : few feel it ; few
practise it. Take two boughs in the dead of winter : how like is
one wood to another ! how hardly discerned ! Afterwards, by their
fruit you shall know them. That faith whose nature was ob
scure is evident in his effects. What is faith, but the hand of the
soul ? What is the duty of the hand, but either to hold or work ?
This hand then holds Christ, works obedience and holiness.

Epist. VI.] Practical Works.
And if this act of apprehension be as secret as the cause, since
the closed hand hideth still what it holdeth, see the hand of
faith open ; see what it worketh ; and compare it with your
own proof. Deny, if you can — yet I had rather appeal to any
judge than your prejudiced self — that, in all your needs, you can
step boldly to the throne of heaven, and freely pour out your
enlarged heart to your God ; and crave of him, whether to re
ceive what you want, or that you may want what you have, and
would not. Be assured from God this can be done by no power
but that you fear to miss, of faith. God, as he is not, so he is
not called, a Father without this. In vain doth he pray that can
not call God, Father : no Father, without the Spirit of adoption :
no Spirit without faith : without this, you may babble, you cannot
pray. Assume you that you can pray, I dare conclude upon my
soul you believe.
As little as you love yourself, deny, if you can, that you love
God. Say that your Saviour from heaven should ask you Peter's
question, could your soul return any other answer than, Lord,
thou knowest I love thee? Why are you else in such awe to
offend that a world cannot bribe you to sin ? why in such deep
grief when you have sinned, that no mirth can refresh you ? why
in such fervent desire of enjoying his presence? why in such
agony when you enjoy it not ? Neither doth God love you, neither
can you love God, without faith.
Yet more ; do you willingly nourish any one sin in your
breast ? do you not repent of all ? do you not hate all, though
you cannot leave all ? do you not complain, that you hate them
no more ? do you not, as for life, wish for holiness, and endeavour
it ? Nothing but faith can thus cleanse the heart : that, like a
good housewife, sweeps all the foul corners of the soul, and will
not leave so much as one web in this roomy house. Trust to it,
you cannot hate sin for its own sake, and forsake it for God's
sake, without faith : the faithless hath had some remorse and
fears ; never, repentance.
Lastly, do you not love a good man for goodness, and delight
in God's saints? Doth not your love lead you to compassion,
your compassion to relief? An heart truly faithful cannot but
have an hand Christianly bountiful. Charity and faith make up
one perfect pair of compasses, that can take the true latitude of
a Christian heart : faith is the one foot, pitched in the centre
unmovably ; while charity walks about, in a perfect circle of be-

£34 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
neficence ; these two never did, neither can go asunder. War
rant you your love, I dare warrant your faith.
What need I say more ? This heat of your affections and this
light of your works will evince, against all the gates of hell, that
you have the fire of faith. Let your soul then warm itself with
these sweet and cordial flames against all those cold despairs
whereto you are tempted ; say, Lord, I believe ; and I will give
you leave still to add, help my unbelief.

TO MR. ED. ALLEYNE.

Epistle VII. — A direction how to conceive qf God in our
devotions and meditations.
You have chosen and judged well. How to conceive of the
Deity in our prayers, in our meditations, is both the deepest
point of all Christianity and the most necessary : so deep, that if
we wade into it, we may easily drown, never find the bottom ; so
necessary, that without it, ourselves, our services are profane,
irreligious. We are all born idolaters ; naturally prone to fashion
God to some form of our own, whether of an human body or of
an admirable light ; or, if our mind have any other more likely
and pleasing image.
First, then, away with all these wicked thoughts, these gross
devotions; and, with Jacob, bury all your strange gods under
the oak of Shechem, ere you offer to set up God's altar at Bethel :
and, without all mental representations, conceive of your God
purely, simply, spiritually ; as of an absolute Being, without
form, without matter, without composition; yea, an Infinite,
without .all limit of thoughts. Let your heart adore a Spiritual
Majesty, which it cannot comprehend, yet knows to be ; and, as
it were, lose itself in his infiniteness. Think of him, as not to be
thought of; as one, whose wisdom is his justice, whose justice is
his power, whose power is his mercy ; and whose wisdom, justice,
power, mercy is himself: as, without quality, good; great, with
out quantity ; everlasting, without time ; present every where,
without place ; containing all things, without extent ; and when
your thoughts are come to the highest, stay there ; and be con
tent to wonder, in silence ; and if you cannot reach to conceive of
him as he is, yet take heed you conceive not of him as he is not.

Epist. VII.] Practical Works. 235
Neither will it suffice your Christian mind to have this awful
and confused apprehension of the Deity, without a more special
and inward conceit of Three in this One ; three persons in this
one essence ; not divided, but distinguished ; and not more min
gled than divided. There is nothing wherein the want of words
can wrong and grieve us, but in this. Here alone, as we can
adore and not conceive ; so we can conceive, and not utter ; yea,
utter ourselves and not be conceived. Yet, as we may, think here
of one substance in three subsistences ; one essence in three re
lations ; one Jehovah begetting, begotten, proceeding ; Father,
Son, Spirit : yet so, as the Son is no other thing from the Father,
but another person ; or the Spirit from the Son. Let your thoughts
here walk warily ; the path is narrow ; the conceit either of three
substances or but one subsistence, is damnable.
Let me lead you yet higher and farther in this intricate way
towards the throne of grace. All this will not avail you, if you
take not your Mediator with you ; if you apprehend not a true
manhood, gloriously united to the Godhead, without change of
either nature, without mixture of both : whose presence, whose
merits must give passage, acceptance, vigour, to your prayers.
Here must be, therefore, as you see, thoughts holily mixed ;
of a Godhead and humanity ; one person in two natures ; of the
same Deity, in divers persons and one nature : wherein, if ever,
heavenly wisdom must bestir itself, in directing us, so to sever
these apprehensions, that none be neglected ; so to conjoin
them, that they be not confounded. 0, the depth of divine
mysteries ; more than can be wondered at ! 0, the necessity of
this high knowledge, which who attains not, may babble, but
prayeth not !
Still you doubt, and ask if you may not direct your prayers to
one person of three. Why not ? Safely, and with comfort. What
need we fear while we have our Saviour for our pattern ; 0 my
Father, if possible, let this cup pass : and Paul, every where,
both in thanks and requests ; but, with due care of worshipping
all in one. Exclude the other while you fix your heart upon one,
your prayer is sin ; retain all and mention one, you offend not.
None of them doth aught for us without all. It is a true rule of
divines : all their external works are common : to solicit one, there
fore, and not all, were injurious.
And if you stay your thoughts upon the sacred humanity of
Christ, with inseparable adoration of the Godhead united, and

236 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
thence climb up to the holy conceit of that blessed and dreadful
Trinity, I dare not censure ; I dare not but commend your divine
method. Thus should Christians ascend from earth to heaven,
from one heaven to another.
If I have given your devotions any light, it is well : the least
glimpse of this knowledge is worth all the full gleams of human
and earthly skill. But I mistake, if your own heart, wrought
upon with serious meditations under that spirit of illumination,
will not prove your best master. After this weak direction, study
to conceive aright, that you may pray aright; and pray, that you
may conceive ; and meditate, that you may do both : and the God
of heaven direct you, enable you, that you may do all.

TO MR. THOMAS JAMES,
OF OXFORD.
Epistle VIII. — A discourse ofthe grounds of the papists' con
fidence in appealing to the Fathers : applauding his worthy
offers and endeavours of discovering the falsifications and de
pravations of antiquity.
Sir, — I know no man so like as you to make posterity his debtor.
I do heartily congratulate unto you so worthy labours, so noble a
project. Our adversaries, knowing of themselves that which Ter
tullian saith of all heresies, that if appeal be made to the sacred
bench of prophets and apostles, they cannot stand, remove the
suit of religion craftily into the court of the fathers ; a reverend
trial as any under heaven ; where it cannot be spoken how confi
dently they triumph ere the conflict. " Give us the fathers for
our judges," say Campian and Possevine, " the day is ours." And
whence is this courage ? Is antiquity our enemy, their advocate ?
Certainly, it cannot be truth that is new ; we would renounce our
religion if it could be overlooked for time. Let go equity, the
older take both.
There be two things then that give them heart in this provo
cation; one, the bastardy of false fathers; the other, the cor
ruption of the true.
What a flourish do they make with usurped names ! whom
would it not amaze to see the frequent citations of the apostles'
own canons, constitutions, liturgies, masses ? Of Clemens, Dennis
the Areopagite, Linus, Hippolytus, Martial of Bourdeaux, Hege-

Epist. VIII.] Practical Works. 237
sippus ? Donations of Constantine the Great, and Lewis the Godly ?
Of fifty canons of Nice ? of Dorotheus, Damasus his pontifical ;
epistles decretal of Clemens, Euaristus, Telesphorus, and a hun
dred other bishops holy and ancient; of Euodius, Anastasius,
Simeon Metaphrastes, and more yet than a number more ; most
whereof have crept out of the Vatican or cloisters, and all carry
in them manifest brands of falsehood and supposition ? that I may
say nothing of those infinite writings, which either ignorance or
wilfulness hath fathered upon every of the fathers, not without
shameless importunity and gross impossibilities : all which, as she
said of Peter, their speech bewrayeth ; or, as Austin said of Cy
prian's style, their face. This fraud is more easily avoided ; for,
as in notorious burglaries, ofttimes there is either an hat, or a
glove, or a weapon left behind, which descrieth the authors ; so
the God of truth hath besotted these impostors to let fall some
palpable error, though but of false calculation, whereby, if not
their names, yet their ages might appear to their conviction.
Most danger is in the secret corruption of the true and acknow
ledged issue of those gracious parents ; whom, through close and
crafty handling, they have induced to belie those that begot them ;
and to betray their fathers either with silence or false evidence.
Plainly, how are the honoured volumes of faithful antiquity blurred,
interlined, altered, depraved by subtle treachery, and made, to
speak what they meant not ! Fie on this, not so much injustice as
impiety, to raze the awful monuments of the dead ; to blot and
change the original will of the deceased, and partially to insert
our own legacies. This is done by our guilty adversaries, to the
injury, not more of these authors, than of the present and suc
ceeding times.
Hence, those fathers are somewhere not ours ; what wonder ?
while they are not themselves Your industry hath offered, and
that motion is lively and heroical, to challenge all their learned and
elegant pages from injury of corruption, to restore them to them
selves and to us. That which all the learned of our times have
but desired to see done, you proffer to effect. Your essay in
Cyprian and Austin is happy, and justly applauded. All our li
braries, whom your diligent hand hath ransacked, offer their aid,
in such abundance of manuscripts, as all Europe would envy to see
met in one island.
After all this, for that the most spiteful imputation to our truth
is novelty, you offer to deduce her pedigree from those primitive

238 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
times, through the successions of all ages ; and to bring into the
light of the world many, as yet obscure, but no less certain and
authentical patrons, in a continued line of defence.
You have given proof enough that these are no glorious vaunts,
but the zealous challenges of an able champion,
What wanteth then ? Let me say for you ; not an heart, not
an head, not an hand ; but, which I almost scorn to name in such
a cause, a purse. If this continue your hinderance, it will not be
more our loss than shame.
Hear me a little, ye great and wealthy. Hath God loaded you
with so much substance, and will you not lend him a little of his
own ? Shall your riot be fed with excess, while God's cause shall
starve for want ? Shall our adversaries so insultingly outbid us ;
and, in the zeal of their profusion, laugh at our heartless and cold
niggardliness ? Shall heavenly truth lie in the dust for want of a
little stamped earth to raise her ? How can you so much any way
honour God, yea yourselves ; deserve of posterity ; pleasure the
Church ; and make you so good friends of your mammon ? Let
not the next age say that she had so unkind predecessors. Fetch
forth of your superfluous store, and cast in your rich gifts into this
treasury of the temple. The Lord and his Church have need.
For you, it angers me to see how that flattering Possevinus
smoothly entices you from us with golden offers, upon the ad
vantage of our neglect ; as if he, measuring your mind by his own,
thought that an omnia dabo would bring you with himself on
your knees to worship the devil, the beast, the image of both : as
if we were not as able to encourage, to reward desert. Hath
virtue no patrons on this side the Alps ? Are those hills only the
thresholds of honour ? I plead not, because I cannot fear you ; but
who sees not how munificently our Church scattereth her bountiful
favours upon less merit. If your day be not yet come, expect it :
God and the Church owe you a benefit ; if their payment be long,
it is sure. Only go you on with courage in those your high en
deavours; and in the mean time think it great recompense to
have deserved.

TO MR. E. A.
Epistle IX. — A discourse qf fleeing or stay in the time qf pesti
lence ; whether lawful far minister or people.
How many hath a seduced conscience led untimely to the

Epist. IX.] Practical Works. 239
grave ! I speak of this sad occasion of pestilence. The angel of
God follows you, and you doubt whether you should flee. If a
lion out ofthe forest should pursue you,you would make no question;
yet could not he do it unsent. What is the difference ? both in
struments of divine revenge ; both threaten death ; one by spilling
the blood, the other by infecting it.
Who knows whether he hath not appointed your Zoar out of
the lists of this destruction ?
You say, it is God's visitation. What evil is not ? If war have
wasted the confines of your country, you save your throats by
flight : why are you more favourable to God's immediate sword of
pestilence ? very leprosy, by God's law, requires a separation ;
yet no mortal sickness. When you see a noted leper proclaim
his uncleanness in the street, will you embrace him, for his sake
that hath stricken him ; or avoid him, for his sake that hath
forbidden you? If you honour his rod, much more will you re
gard his precept. If you mislike not the affliction, because he
sends it ; then love the life, which you have of his sending : fear
the judgment which he will send, if you love it not. He, that
bids us flee when we are persecuted, hath neither excepted angel
nor man : whether soever, I fear our guiltiness, if wilfully we
flee not.
" But, whither shall we flee from God ?" say you : " where
shall he not both find and lead us ? whither shall not our destiny
follow us ? Vain men ! we may run from our home, not from our
grave. Death is subtle ; our time is set : we can not, God will
not, alter it."
Alas, how wise we are to wrong ourselves ! Because death will
overtake us, shall we run and meet him ? Because God's decree is
sure, shall we be desperate? Shall we presume, because God
changeth not ? Why do we not try every knife and cord, since
our time is neither capable of prevention nor delay ? Our end is
set, not without our means. In matter of danger, where the end
is not known, the means must be suspected ; in matter of hope,
where the end is not known, means must be used. Use, then,
freely the means of your flight ; suspect the danger of your stay ;
and, since there is no particular necessity of your presence, know
that God bids you depart and live.
You urge the instance of your minister. How unequally !
There is not more lawfulness in your flight than sin in ours.
You are your own; we, our people's. You are charged with a

240 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
body which you may not willingly lose, not hazard by staying ;
we, with all their souls, which to hazard by absence, is to lose
our Own. We must love our lives ; but not when they are rivals
with our souls, or with others'. How much better is it to be
dead, than negligent, than faithless ! If some bodies be conta
giously sick, shall all souls be wilfully neglected ? There can be
no time wherein good counsel is so seasonable, so needful. Every
threatening finds impression where the mind is prepared by sen
sible judgments. When will the iron hearts of men bow, if not
when they are heated in the flame of God's affliction ? Now, then,
to run away from a necessary and public good to avoid a doubtful
and private evil, is to run into a worse evil than we would avoid.
He that will thus run from Nineveh to Tarshish shall find a tem
pest and a whale in his way.
Not that I dare be an author to any, of the private visitation
of infected beds : I dare not, without better warrant. Who ever
said we were bound to close up the dying eyes of every departing
Christian ; and, upon whatever conditions, to hear their last
groans? If we had a word, I would not debate of the success.
Then, that were cowardliness which now is wisdom. Is it no
service, that we publicly teach and exhort ? that we privately pre
pare men for death, and arm them against it ? that our comfort
able letters and messages stir up their fainting hearts ? that our
loud voices pierce their ears afar ; unless we feel their pulses, and
lean upon their pillows, and whisper in their ears? Daniel is in
the lions' den : is it nothing that Darius speaks comfort to him
through the grate, unless he go in to salute him among those
fierce companions ? A good minister is the common goods : he
cannot make his life peculiar to one without injury to many. In
the common cause of the Church, he must be no niggard of his
life ; in the private cause of a neighbour's bodily sickness, he may
soon be prodigal. A good father may not spend his substance on
one child, and leave the rest beggars. If any man be resolute in
the contrary, I had rather praise his courage than imitate his
practice. I confess, I fear ; not so much death, as want of war
rant for death.
TO MR. R. B.
Epistle X. — A complaint of the iniquity of the times ; with
a prescription of the means to redress it.
While I accused the times, you undertook their patronage. I

Epist. X.] Practical Works. 241
commend your charity; not your cause. It is true, there was
never any age not complained of; never any, that was not cen
sured, as worst. What is, we see : what was, we neither inquire
nor care. That which is out of sight and use is soon out of
mind, and, ere long, out of memory. Yet the iniquity of others
cannot excuse ours. And, if you will be but as just as charitable,
you shall confess, that both some times exceed others in evil, and
these, all.
This earthly moon, the Church, hath her fulls and wanings ;
and sometimes her eclipses, while the shadow of this sinful mass
hides her beauty from the world. So long as she wadeth in this
planetary world, it should be vain to expect better : it is enough,
when she is fixed above, to be free from all change.
This you yield, but nothing can persuade you that she is not
now in the full of her glory : true ; or else she were not subject to
this darkening. There was never more light of knowledge, never
more darkness of impiety ; and there could not be such darkness
if there were not such light. Goodness repulsed gives height to
sin : therefore are we worse than our predecessors, because we
might be better : by how much our means are greater, by so much
are our defects. Turn over all records ; and parallel such helps,
such care, such cost, such expectation, with such fruit ; I yield.
We see but our own times. There was never but one Noaha
(whom the heathens celebrated under another name) that, with
two faces, saw both before and behind him. But lo, that Ancient of
Days, to whom all times are present, hath told us, that these last
shall be worst. Our experience justifies him with all but the wilful.
This censure, lest you should condemn my rigour as unnaturally
partial, is not confined to our seas ; but, free and common, hath
the same bounds with the earth. I joy not in this large society.
Would God we were evil alone ! How few are those whose car
riage doth not say, that profession of any conscience is pusillani
mity ! How few, that care so much as to show well ! and yet of
those few, how many care only to seem ! whose words disagree
from their actions, and their hearts from their words ! Where
shall a man mew up himself, that he may not be a witness of what
he would not ? What can he see or hear, and not be either sad
» [The identity of Noah with Janus, a recent one. " De Jano multorum ea
seems to have been a favourite theory opinio est, hunc Noe esse." G.I. Vossius
with the Bishop, as he alludes to it more de Idol. 1. i. c. xviii. et ejusdem Etymo-
than once : whence he adopted it does log. v. JamiEe."]
not appear, though it was by no means
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. R

242 Practical Works. [Decade IV.
or guilty? Oaths strive for number with words; scoffs, with
oaths ; vain speeches, with both. They are rare hands, that are
free either from aspersions of blood or spots of filthiness. Let
me be at once, as I use, bold and plain : wanton excess, excessive
pfide, close atheism, impudent profaneness, unmerciful oppression,
overmerciful connivance, greedy covetousness, loose prodigality,
simoniacal sacrilege, unbridled luxury, beastly drunkenness, bloody
treachery, cunning fraud, slanderous detraction, envious under
minings, secret idolatry, hypocritical fashionableness, have spread
themselves all over the world. The sun of peace, looking upon
our unclean heaps, hath bred these monsters, and hath given
light to this brood of darkness. Look about you, and see if three
great idols, Honour, Pleasure, Gain, have not shared the earth
amongst them ; and left Him least whose all is. Your denial
drives me to particulars. I urge no further.
If any adversary insult in my confession, tell him, that I ac
count them the greatest part of this evil ; neither could thus com
plain, if they were not. Who knows not, that, as the earth is the
dregs of the world, so Italy is the dregs of the earth ; Rome, of
Italy ? It is no wonder to find Satan in his hell ; but to find him
in paradise is uncouth and grievous.
Let them alone that will die, and hate to be cured. For us :
O, that remedies were as easy as complaints! that we could be
as soon cleared as convinced ! that the taking of the medicine
were but so difficult as the prescription ! And yet nothing hin
ders us from health, but our will : neither gospel, nor grace, nor
glory, are shut up ; only our hearts are not open.
Let me turn my style from you to the secure, to the perverse :
though why do I hope they will hear me that are deaf to God ;
they will regard words, that care not for judgments ? Let me
tell them yet, if in vain, they must break, if they bow not : that
if mercy may be refused, yet vengeance cannot be resisted : that
God can serve himself of them perforce ; neither to their thank
nor ease : that the present plagues do but threaten worse : lastly,
that if they relent not, hell was not made for nothing.
What should be done then ? Except we would fain smart, each
man amend one, and we all live. How commonly do men com
plain, and yet add to this heap ! Redress stands not in words.- Let
every man pull but one brand out of this fire, and the flame will go
out alone. What is a multitude but an heap of unities? The
more we deduce, the fewer we leave, 0 how happy were it, then,
if every man would begin at home, and take his own heart to

Epist. X.] Practical Works. 243
task, and at once be his own accuser and judge ; to condemn his
private errors, yea, to mulct them with death! Till then, alas,
what avails it to talk ? While every man censures, and no man
amends, what is it but busy trifling ?
But though our care must begin at ourselves, it may not end
there. Who but a Cain is not his brother's keeper? Public per
sons are not so much their own as others are theirs. Who sits at
the common stern cannot distinguish betwixt the care of his own
safety and his vessel's ; both drown at once ; or at once salute
the haven.
Ye magistrates — for in you stand all our lower hopes, whom
God hath, on purpose, in a wise surrogation, set upon earth to
correct her disorders — take to yourselves firm foreheads, cou
rageous hearts, hands busy and not partial; to discountenance
shameless wickedness ; to resist the violent sway of evils ; to ex
ecute wholesome laws, with strictness, with resolution. The sword of
the Spirit meets with such iron hearts, that both it enters not, and
is rebated. Lo, it appeals to your arm, to your aid. An earthen
edge can best pierce this hardened earth. If iniquity die not by
your hands, we perish.
And ye sons of Levi, gather to your Moses in the gate of the
camp. Consecrate your hands to God in this holy slaughter of
vice. Let your voice be both a trumpet to incite, and a two-
edged sword to wound and kill. Cry down sin in earnest, and
thunder out of that sacred chair of Moses; and let your lives
speak yet louder.
Neither may the common Christian sit still and look on in
silence. I am deceived, if in this cause God allow any man for
private. Here must be all actors, no witnesses. His discreet
admonitions, seasonable reproofs, and prayers never unseasonable,
besides the power of honest example, are expected as his due
tribute to the common health. What if we cannot turn the
stream ; yet we must swim against it. Even without conquest, it
is glorious to have resisted. In this alone they are enemies that
do nothing.
Thus, as one that delights more in amendment than excuse,
I have both censured and directed. The favour of your sentence
proceeds, I know, from your own innocent uprightness : so judge
of my severe taxation. It shall be happy for us, if we can at
once excuse and diminish, accuse and redress iniquity. Let but
the endeavour be ours, the success to God. it 2

244 Practical Works. [Decade V.
EPISTLES,
IN SIX DECADES.
THE THIED AND LAST VOLUME.
BY JOS. HALL.
TO THE MOST HIGH AND EXCELLENT
PRINCE HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES,
ALL HAPPINESS.

Most gracious Prince, — Let me not, while I desire to be dutiful, seem im
portunate in my dedications. I now bring to your highness these my last,
and perhaps most material letters : wherein, if I mistake not, (as how easily
are we deceived in our own !) the pleasure of the variety shall strive with
the importance of matter. There is no worldly thing, I confess, whereof I
am more ambitious, than of your highness's contentment; which that you
place in goodness is not more your glory than our joy. Do so still, and heaven
and earth shall agree to bless you, and us in you. For me, after this my
officious boldness, I shall betake myself in silence to some greater work,
wherein I may approve my service to the church, and to your highness, as her
second joy and care. My heart shall be always, and upon all opportunities
my tongue and pen shall no less gladly be devotecTto my gracious Master, as
one Who rejoice to be your Highness's
(though unworthy, yet) faithful
and obsequious servant,
JOS. HALL.

THE TABLE.
DECADE V.
Epistle I. — To My Lokd Bishop of Bath and Wells : Biscoursing of the causes and
means of the increase of popery.
II. — To My Loed Bishop of Worcester : Showing the difference of the present
church from tlie apostolical, and Heedlessness of our conforming thereto in
all things.
III. — To Lady Mary Denny : Containing a description of a Christian ; and
his differences from the worldling.

Epist. I.] Practical Works, 245
Epistle IV. — My Lady Honoria Hay : Discoursing of the necessity of baptism ; and
the estate qf those which necessarily want it.
V. — To Sir Richard Lea (since deseased) : Discoursing of the comfortable reme
dies of all afflictions.
VI. — To M. Peter Moulin, preacher of the church at Paris : Discoursing of
the late French occurrents ; and what use God expects to be made of them.
VII. — To Mr. Thomas Sutton : Exciting him, and, in him, all others, to early and
cheerful beneficence ,¦ showing the necessity and benefit of good works.
VIII. — To E. B., dedicated \o Sir George Gorins : Remedies against dulness
and heartlessness in our callings; and encouragements to cheerfulness in
labour.
IX. — To Sir John Harrington, discussing this question : Whether a man and
wife, after some years mutual and loving fruition of each other, may, upon,
consent, whether for secular or religious causes, vow and perform a perpetual
separation from each other's bed, and absolutely renounce all carnal know
ledge of each other for ever.
X. — To Mr. William Knight : Encouraging him to persist in the holy calling
of the ministry ; which, upon conceit of his insufficiency and want of affection,
lie seemed inclining to forsake and change.

THE FIFTH DECADE.

TO MY LORD BISHOP OF BATH AND WELLS*.

Epistle I. — Discoursing of the causes and means of the increase
qf popery.
By what means the Romish religion hath in these latter times
prevailed so much over the world, right reverend and honourable,
is a consideration both weighty and useful ; for hence may we
frame ourselves either to prevent or imitate them ; to imitate
them in what we may, or prevent them in what they should
not. I meddle not with the means of their first risings : the munifi
cence of Christian princes ; the honest devotions of well-meaning
contributors ; the division of the Christian world ; the busy en
deavours of forward princes for the recovery of the Holy Land,
with neglect of their own : the ambitious insinuations of that see ;
the fame, and large domimon of those seven hills ; the compacted
indulgence and connivance of some treacherous, of other timorous,
rulers; the shameless flattery of parasites ; the rude ignorance of
a [James Montague, consecrated 1608.]

246 Practical Works. [Decade V.
times ; or, if there be any other of this kind. My thoughts and
words shall be spent upon the present and latest age.
All the world knows how that pretended chair of Peter tottered
and cracked some threescore years ago, threatening a speedy
ruin to her fearful usurper. How is it, that still it stands, and
seems now to boast of some settledness ? Certainly, if hell had
not contrived a new support, the angel had long since said, It is
fallen, it is fallen ; and the merchants, Alas, alas, the great
city ! The brood of that lame Loyola shall have this miserable
honour without our envy ; that if they had not been, Rome had
not been. By what means, it rests now to inquire.
It is not so much their zeal for falsehood; which yet we ac
knowledge, and admire not. If Satan were not more busy than
they, we had lost nothing. Their desperate attempts, bold in
trusions, importunate solicitations, have not returned empty ; yet
their policy hath done more than their force. That popish world
was then foul and debauched, as in doctrine so in life ; and now
began to be ashamed of itself : when these holy fathers, as some
saints dropt out of heaven, suddenly professed an unusual strict
ness, sad piety, resolved mortification ; and so drew the eyes and
hearts of men after them, that poor souls began to think it could
not be other than divine which they taught; other than holy
which they touched.
The very times, not seldom, give as great advantage as our
own best strength, and the vices of others give glory to those
which either are or appear virtuous. They saw how ready the
world was to bite at the bait ; and now followed their success with
new helps.
Plenty of pretended miracles must bless on all sides the
endeavours of this new sect, and calls for both approbation and
wonder. Those things, hy the report of their own pens — other
witnesses I see none — have been done by the ten patriarchs of
the Jesuitish religion, both alive and dead, which can hardly be
matched of Him whose name they have usurped. And now the
vulgar can say, If these men were not of God, they could do
nothing : how can a man that is a sinner do such miracles ?
not distrusting either the fame or the work, but applauding the
authors for what was said to be done.
But now, lest the envy of the fact should surpass the wonder,
they have learned to cast this glory upon their wooden Ladies ;
and to communicate the gain unto the whole religion. Two

Epist. I.] Practical Works. 247
blocks at Halle and Scherpen-heuvellb have said and done more
for popery than all friars ever since Francis wore his breeches on
his head.
But because that praise is sweet which arises from the disgrace
of a rival, therefore this holy society hath besides, ever wont to
honour itself by the brokage of shameless untruths against the
adverse part; not caring how probable any report is but how
odious. A just volume would not contain those willing lies, where
with they have purposely loaded religion and us, that the multi
tude might first hate us, and then inquire. And these courses
are held not tolerable, but meritorious: so the end may be attained,
all means are just, all ways straight
Whom we may, we satisfy : but wounds once given are hardly
healed without some scars ; and commonly, accusations are vocal,
apologies dumb. How easy is it to make any cause good, If we
may take liberty of tongue and conscience '.
Yet, lest some glimpse of our truth and innocence should
perhaps lighten the eyes of some more inquisitive reader, they
have, by strict prohibitions, whether of books or conference,
restrained all possibility of true informations; yea, their own
writings, wherein our opinions are reported with confutation,
are not allowed to the common view ; lest, if it should appear
what we hold, our mere opinion should prevail more than their
subtlest answer.
But, above all, the restraint of God's Book hath gained them
most. If that might be in the1 hands of men, their rehgion could
not be in their hearts : now, the concealment of scriptures breeds
ignorance, and ignorance superstition.
But because forbiddanee doth but whet desire, and work con
ceit of some secret excellence in things denied; therefore have
they devised to affright this dangerous curiosity with that cruel,
butcherly, hellish Inquisition; wherein yet, there is not less craft
than violence : for, since they have perceived the blood of martyrs
to be but the seed of the Church, and that these perfumes are more
dispersed with beating, they have now learned to murder without
noise, and to bring forth, (if at least they list sometimes to make
the people privy to some examples of terror,) not men, but car
casses. Behold, the constant confessions of the dying saints have
made them weary of public executions ; none but bare walls shall
now testify the courage and faith of our happy martyrs. A dis-
* [See " Some Specialities in the Life of J. Hall."]

248 Practical Works. [Decade V.
guised corpse is only brought forth to the multitude, either for
laughter or fear. Yet, because the very dead speak for truth in
a loud silence, these spectacles are rare ; and the graves of here
tics are become as close as their death.
Yet, lest, since neither living mouths nor faithful pens may
be suffered to insinuate any truth, those speeches should perhaps
be received from the ancients which in us were heretical, the
monuments of unpartial antiquity must be depraved : all witnesses
that might speak against them must be corrupted with a fraudu
lent violence, and some of them purged to the death.
So while those are debarred, and the ancients altered, posterity
shall acknowledge no adversary.
What should I speak of those plausible devices which they have
invented to make superstitious and foolish proselytes ? their proud
vaunts of antiquity, universality, succession, and the name of theh'
forefathers, do not only persuade, but amaze and besot an igno
rant heart. The glorious shows of their processions, the gaudy
ornaments of their altars, the pomp and magnificence of the places
and manner of their services, the triumphs of their great festivals,
are enough to bewitch any childish, simple, or vain beholders.
Who knows not, that nature is most led by sense ? Sure, children
and fools, such as are all mere natural men, cannot be of any
other religion.
Besides all these, their personal understandings, what for
cunning, what for boldness, could promise nothing but success.
They can transform themselves into all shapes ; and in these false
forms thrust themselves into all courts and companies, not oftener
changing their habit than their name. They can take the best
opportunities to work upon those which are either most unable to
resist or most like to bestead them.
That I may not speak of the wrongs of unseasonable travel,
wherein many unsettled heads have met dangers and solicited
errors; who, like fond and idle Dinahs, going abroad to gaze,
have been ravished ere their return. Never was any bird so
laid for by the nets and calls of the fowler as the great heir of
some noble family, or some fiery wit is by these impostors.
They know that greatness is both lawless and commanding ; if
not by precept, yet by example : their very silence is persuasory
and imperious.
But, alas for that other sex ! Still the devil begins with Eve :
still his assault is strongest, where is weakest resistance. Simon

Epist. I.] Practical Works. 249
Magus had his Helena: Nicholas the deacon had his choros
foemineos, as Jerome calls them : Marcion had his factoress at
Rome; Apelles, his Philumena; Montanus, his Prisca and Maxi-
milla ; Arius, his Constantine's sister ; Donatus, his Lucilla ; Eli-
pidius, his Agape'; Priscillianus, his Galla : and our Jesuits have
their painted Ladies, (not dead, but living,) both for objects and
instruments. When they saw they could not blow up religion
with French powder into heaven, they now try, by this Moabitish
plot, to sink it down to hell. Those silly women, which are laden
with sins and divers lusts, must now be the stales of their spiritual
fornications. But, for that these enterprises want not danger, that both
parts may securely succeed, behold public liberty of dispensa
tions ; whether for dissembled religion, or not unprofitable
filthiness. These means are, like the authors, dishonest and
godless. Add, if you please, hereto, those, which pretend more innocent
policy : their common dependences upon one commander ; their
intelligences given ; their charges received ; their rewards and
honours, perhaps of the calendar, perhaps of a red hat, duly
conferred. Neither may the least help be ascribed to the conference of
studies ; the conjoined labours of whole societies, directed to
one end, and shrouded under the title of one author ; to large
maintenances, raised from the death-beds of some guilty bene
factors : from whence flow both infinite numbers and incomparable
helps of students. Under which head, for the time past, not a
few are moved by the remembrance of the bounteous hospitality
of the religious ; who, having engrossed the world to themselves,
seemed liberal in giving something ; like unto some vainglorious
thieves, which, having robbed wealthy merchants, bestow some
pence upon beggars.
Further, the smothering if not composing of" their frequent
strifes, and confining of brawls within their own thresholds, with
the nice managing of their known oppositions, hath won many
ignorant friends.
Lastly, the excellent correspondence of their doctrines unto
nature hath been their best solicitor. We have examined parti
culars in a former Epistle0: wherein we have made it evident,
c See Decade iii. Epistle 3. — Pratt.

250 Practical Works. [Decade V.
that popery affects nothing but to make nature either proud or
wanton ; it offers difficulties ; but carnal, and such as the greatest
lover of himself would easily embrace for an advantage.
That we may therefore sum up all ; I need not accuse our
carelessness, indifferency, idleness, loose carriage; in all which,
would God we had not aided them, and wronged ourselves : nor
yet their zeal and forwardness. Worse means are guilty of their
gain. In short, the fair outside which they set upon religion,
which sure is the best they have, if not all ; their pretended
miracles, wilful untruths, strait prohibitions, bloody and secret
inquisitions ; depravations of ancient witnesses, expurgation of
their own ; gay and garish sights, glorious titles ; crafty changes
of names, shapes, habits, conditions ; insinuations to the great,
oppugnation of the weaker sex ; falsehood of answers and oaths,
dispensations for sins, uniting of forces, concealing of differ
ences, largeness of contributions, multitude of actors and means,
accordances to men's natural dispositions ; where we, on the
contrary care not to seem, but to be; disclaim miracles; dare
not save the life of religion with a lie ; give free scope to all pens,
to all tongues, to all eyes ; shed no blood for religion ; suffer all
writers to speak like themselves ; show nothing but poor simpli
city in our devotions; go ever, and look, as we are; teach the
truth right-down, in an honest plainness ; take no vantage of
imbecility ; swear true, though we die ; give no hope of indulgence
for evil ; study, each retired to himself, and the muses ; publish
our quarrels, and aggravate them ; anger nature, and conquer it.
Such gain shall be gravel in their throats : such losses to us, in our
not daring to sin, shall be happy and victorious ; in all other re
gards are both blameworthy and recoverable.
What dulness is this ! Have we such a king as in these lists of
controversy may dare to grapple with that great infallible vicar
for his triple crown ; such bishops, as may justly challenge the
whole consistory of Rome ; so many learned doctors and divines,
as no nation under beaven more; so flourishing universities as
Christendom hath none ; such blessed opportunities, such encou
ragements? and now, when we want nothing else, shall we be
wanting to ourselves ? Yea, above all these, the God of heaven
favours us ; and do we languish ? The cause is his, and in spite
of the gates of hell shall succeed, though we were not : our neglect
may slacken the pace of truth, cannot stay the passage. Why are
we not as busy as subtle, more resolute 1 Such spirits, and such

Epist. II.] Practical Works. 251
hands as yours, reverend lord, must put life into the cold breasts
of this frozen generation, and raise them up to such thoughts and
endeavours as may make the emulation of our adversaries equal
to their enmity.

TO MY LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER °\
Epistle II. — Showing the difference of the present church from
the apostolical, and needlessness qf our conformity
thereto in all things.
I feab not to say, those men are but superstitiously curious,
right reverend and honourable, which would call back all circum
stances to their first patterns. The spouse of Christ hath been
ever clothed with her own rites ; and as apparel, so religion hath
her fashions ; variable, according to ages and places. To reduce
us to the same observations which were in apostolical use were no
better than to tie us to the sandals of the disciples or seamless
coat of our Saviour. In these cases, they did what we need not;
and we may, what they did not. God meant us no bondage in
their example. Their canons bind us, whether for manners or
doctrine, not their ceremonies.
Neither Christ nor his apostles did all things for imitation.
I speak not of miraculous acts. We need not be silent before a
judge, as Christ was ; we need not take a towel and gird ourselves,
and wash our servants' feet, as Christ did ; we need not make
tents for our living, as Paul ; nor go armed, as Peter ; nor carry
about our wives, as he and the other apostles.
I acknowledge the ground, not only of separation, but ana-
baptism; and wonder that these conceits do not answer them
selves. Who can choose but see a manifest difference betwixt
those laws which Christ and his great ambassadors made for
eternal use, and those ritual matters which were confined to place
and time? Every nation, every person sins, that observes not
those : these, for the most part, are not kept of the most ; and
are as well left without sin by us, as used without prescription or
necessity by the authors.
Some of them we cannot do ; others, we need not.
Which of us can cast out devils hy command ? who can cure the
sick by ointment, and imposition of hands ? The disciples did it.
All those acts, which proceeded from supernatural privilege,
a [Henry Parry consecrated bishop of Gloucester 1607, of Worcester 1610.]

252 Practical Works. [Decade V.
ceased with their cause ; who now dare undertake to continue
them? unless perhaps some bold papists, who have brought in
gross magic instead of miraculous authority ; and daub very car
casses, instead of healing diseases.
There be more yet which we need not do. What need we to
choose ministers by lot ? what need we to disclaim all peculiarity
in goods ? what need we to christen in rivers, or to meet upon
their banks? what need we to receive God's supper after our
own ? what, to lean in each other's bosom while we receive it ?
what, to abhor leaven in that holy bread ? what, to celebrate love-
feasts upon the receipt ? what, to abstain from all strangled and
blood ? what, to depend upon a maintenance arbitrary and uncer
tain ? what, to spend our days in a perpetual pererration ; as not
only the apostles, but the prophets and evangelists, some ages
after Christ ? Whosoever would impose all these on us, he should
surely make us, not the sons, but the slaves of the apostles.
God's Church never held herself in such servile terms. Yea,
Christ himself gave at first some precepts of this nature, which he
reversed ere long. When he sent the disciples to preach, he
charges ; Take not gold, nor silver, nor money in your girdles ;
afterwards, Judas carried the bag. He charges, not to take so
much as a staff; yet, after, behold two swords. Should the dis
ciples have held their Master to his own rule ? Is it necessary that
what he once commanded should be observed always ?
The very next age to these Christian patriarchs neither would
nor durst have so much varied her rites or augmented them, if
it had found itself tied either to number or kind. As yet it was
pure, chaste, and, which was the ground of all, persecuted. The
church of Rome distributed the sacramental bread ; the church
of Alexandria permitted the people to take it. The churches of
Afric and Rome mixed their holy wine with water ; other colder
regions drank it pure. Some kneeled in their prayers; others
fell prostrate, and some lifted up eyes, hands, feet towards heaven.
Some kept their Easter according to the Jewish use, the fourteenth
of March : the French, as Nicephoruse, the eighth of the calends
of April, in a set solemnity : the church of Rome, the Sunday
after the fourteenth moon ; which yet, as Socrates truly writes,
was never restrained f by any gospel, by any apostle. That Ro
mish Victor overcame the other world in this point with too much
c [Niceph. Eccl. Hist. lib. xii. c. 32, 33.] ' [Socr. lib. v. 32.]

Epist. II.] Practical Works. 253
'.'•w>
rigour ; whose censure therefore of the Asian churches was justly
censured by Irenseus.
What should I speak of their difference of fasts? there can
scarce be more variety in days or meats.
It hath ever been thus seen, according to our Anselm's rule,
That the multitude of different ceremonies in all churches hath
justly commended their unity in faith. The French divines preach
covered : upon the same rule which required the Corinthians to
be uncovered, we bare. The Dutch sit at the sacrament, we kneel.
Genoa useth wafers, we leavened bread ; they common vestures
in divine service, we peculiar. Each is free ; no one doth either
blame or overrule others
I cannot but commend those very Novatian bishops, though it
is a wonder any precedent of peace should fall from schismatics,
who, meeting in council together, enacted that canon of indif-
ferency, when the church was distracted with the differences of
her Paschal solemnities ; concluding, how insufficient this cause
was to disquiet the Church of Christ.
Their own issue, our separatists, will needs be unlike them in
good, and strive to a farther distance from peace; while, in a
conceit not less idle than scrupulous, they press us to an uniform
conformity in our fashions to the apostles. Their own practice
condemns them ; they call for some, and yet keep not all ; yet the
same reason enforces all, that pleads for some ; and that which
warrants the forbearance of some, holds for all.
Those tools which serve for the foundation, are not of use for
the roof. Yea, the great Masterbuilder chose those workmen
for the first stones which he meant not to employ in the walls.
Do we not see all Christ's first agents extraordinary ; apostles,
evangelists, prophets, prophetesses ? See we not fiery and cloven
tongues descending? What church ever since boasted of such
founders, of such means ? Why would God begin with those which
he meant not to continue, but to show us we may not always look
for one face of things? The nurse feeds and tends her child at
first ; afterward, he is undertaken by the discipline of a tutor ;
must he be always under the spoon and .ferule, because he began
so ? If he have good breeding, it matters not by whose hands.
Who can deny that we have the substance of all thoseToyal laws
which Christ and his apostles left to his Church ? What do we
now, thus importunately catching at shadows ? If there had been
a necessity of having what we want, or wanting what we have, let

254 Practical Works. [Decade V.
us not so far wrong the wisdom and perfection of the Lawgiver,
as to think he would not have enjoined that and forbidden this.
His silence in both argues his indifferency, and calls for ours ;
which while it is not peaceably entertained, there is clamour with
out profit, malice without cause, and strife without end.

TO LADY MARY DENNY.
Epistle III. — Containing the description of a Christian, and his
differences from the worldling.
Madam, — It is true, that worldly eyes can see no difference be
twixt a Christian and another man ; the outside of both is made
of one clay, and cast in one mould ; both are inspired with one
common breath ; outward events distinguish them not ; those God
never made for evidences of love or hatred. So the senses can
perceive no difference betwixt the reasonable soul and that which
informs the beast ; yet the soul knows there is much more than
betwixt their bodies. The same holds in this ; faith sees more
inward difference than the eye sees outward resemblance.
This point is not more high than material ; wliich that it may
appear, let me show what it is to be a Christian. You that have
felt it can second me with your experience, and supply the defects
of my discourse.
He is the living temple of the living God ; where the Deity is
both resident and worshipped. The highest thing in a man is his
own spirit ; but, in a Christian, the Spirit of God, which is the
God of spirits. No grace is wanting in him ; and those which
there are, want not stirring up. Both his heart and his hands
are clean ; all his outward purity flows from within, neither doth
he frame his soul to counterfeit good actions, but out of his holy
disposition commands and produces them in the light of God.
Let us begin with his beginning, and fetch the Christian out of
this nature, as another Abraham from his Chaldea; while the
worldling lives and dies in nature, out of God.
The true convert therefore, after his wild and secure courses,
puts himself, through the motions of God's Spirit, to school unto
the Law. There he learns what he should have done ; what he
could not do ; what he hath done ; what he hath deserved. These
lessons cost him many a stripe and many a tear; and not more

Epist. III.] Practical Wcrrks. 255
grief than terror : for this sharp master makes him feel what sin
is, and what hell is ; and, in regard of both, what himself is.
When he hath well smarted under the whip of this severe
usher, and is made vile enough in himself, then is he led up into
the higher school of Christ, and there taught the comfortable les
sons of grace. There he learns what belongs to a Saviour, what
one he is, what he hath done, and for whom ; how he became
ours, we his ; and now, finding himself in a true state of danger,
of humility, of need, of desire, of fitness for Christ, he brings home
to himself all that he learns, and what he knows, he applies. His
former tutor he feared, this he loveth; that showed him his
wounds, yea, made them ; this binds and heals them ; that killed
him ; this shows him life, and leads him to it. Now, at once, he
hates himself, defies Satan, trusts to Christ, makes account both
of pardon and glory.
This is his most precious faith, whereby he appropriates, yea,
engrosses Christ Jesus to himself: whence he is justified from his
sins, purified from his corruptions, established in his resolutions,
comforted in his doubts, defended against temptations, overcomes
all his enemies.
Which virtue, as it is most employed and most opposed, so car
ries the most care from the Christian heart, that it be sound, lively,
growing. Sound ; not rotten, not hollow, not presumptuous. Sound in
the act; not a superficial conceit, but a true, deep, and sensible
apprehension ; an apprehension, not of the brain, but of the heart ;
and of the heart, not approving or assenting, but trusting and re
posing. Sound in the object ; none but Christ : he knows that no
friendship in heaven can do him good without this ; the angels can
not, God will not : Ye believe in the Father, believe also in me.
Lively ; for it cannot give life unless it have life. The faith
that is not faithful is dead. The fruits of faith are good works ;
whether inward, within the roof of the heart, as love, awe, sor
row, piety, zeal, joy, and the rest; or outward, towards God, or
our brethren : obedience and service to the one, to the other, re
lief and beneficence. These he bears, in his time : sometimes, all ;
but always some.
Growing; true faith cannot stand still, but as it is fruitful in
works, so it increaseth in degrees ; from a little seed it proves a
large plant, reaching from earth to heaven, and from one heaven
to another. Every shower and every sun adds something to it.

256 Practical Works. [Decade V.
Neither is this grace ever solitary, but always attended royally ;
for he that believes what a Saviour he hath, cannot but love him ;
and he that loves him, cannot but hate whatsoever may displease
him ; cannot but rejoice in him, and hope to enjoy him, and desire
to enjoy his hope, and contemn all those vanities which he once
desired and enjoyed. His mind now scorneth to grovel upon earth,
but soareth up to the things above, where Christ sits at the right
hand of God ; and, after it hath seen what is done in heaven, looks
strangely upon all worldly things. He dare trust his faith above
his reason and sense, and hath learned to wean his appetite from
craving much. He stands in awe of his own conscience, and dare
no more offend it than not displease himself. He fears not his
enemies, yet neglects them not ; equally avoiding security and
timorousness. He sees Hira that is invisible, and walks with him
awfully, familiarly. He knows what he is born to, and therefore
digests the miseries of his wardship with patience. He finds more
comfort in his afflictions than any worldling in pleasures. And
as he hath these graces to comfort him within, so hath he the
angels to attend him without ; spirits better than his own, more
powerful, more glorious : these bear him in their arms; wake by
his bed ; keep his soul while he hath it, and receive it when it
leaves him.
Those are some present differences : the greatest are future ;
which could not be so great, if themselves were not witness : no
less than betwixt heaven and hell, torment and glory, an incor
ruptible crown and fire unquenchable. Whether infidels believe
these things or no, we know them : so shall they, but too late.
What remains, but that we applaud ourselves in this happiness,
and walk on cheerily in this heavenly profession ? acknowledging
that God could not do more for us ; and that we cannot do enough
for him. Let others boast, as your ladyship might with others of
ancient and noble houses, large patrimonies or dowries, honourable
commands ; others, of famous names, high and envied honours, or
the favours of the greatest ; others, of valour or beauty ; or some,
perhaps, of eminent learning and wit : it shall be our pride, that
we are Christians.

Epist. IV.] Practical Works. 257
TO MY LADY HONORIA HAY.
Epistle IV. — Discoursing of the necessity of baptism; and the
estate of those which necessarily want it.
Madam, — Methinks children are like teeth, troublesome both in
the breeding and losing ; and oftentimes painful while they stand ;
yet such as we neither would nor can well be without.
I go not about to comfort you thus late for your loss ; I rather
congratulate your wise moderation and Christian care of these
first spiritual privileges ; desiring only to satisfy you in what you
heard as a witness, not in what you needed as a mother.
Children are the blessings of parents, and baptism is the
blessing of children and parents ; wherein there is not only use,
but necessity ; necessity, not in respect so much of the end as of
the precept. God hath enjoined it to the comfort of parents
and behoof of children : which therefore, as it may not be super-
stitiously hastened, so not negligently deferred.
That the contempt of baptism damneth is past all doubt ;
but that the constrained absence thereof should send infants to
hell is a cruel rashness. It is not their sin to die early: death is
a punishment, not an offence ; an effect of sin, not a cause of tor
ment : they want nothing but time, which they could not command.
Because they could not live a while longer, that therefore they
should die everlastingly is the hard sentence of a bloody religion.
I am only sorry that so harsh an opinion should be graced with
the name of a Father so reverend, so divine ; whose sentence yet
let no man plead by halves. He who held it impossible for a
child to be saved unless the baptismal water were poured on his'
face, held it also as impossible for the same infant unless the
sacramental bread were received into his mouth. There is the
same ground for both ; the same error in both ; a weakness fit
for forgetfulness : see yet, how ignorant or ill-meaning posterity
could single out one half of the opinion for truth, and con
demn the other of falsehood. In spite of whom, one part shall
easily convince tbe other ; yea, without all force : since both
cannot stand, both will fall together for company. The same
mouth which said, Unless ye be born again of water and the Holy
Ghost, said also, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son qf man, and
drink his blood : an equal necessity of both. And lest any should
plead different interpretations, the same St. Austin avers this
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. S

258 Practical Works. [Decade V.
latter opinion also, concerning the necessary communicating of
children, to have been once the common judgment of the church
of Rome : a sentence so displeasing, that you shall find the
memory of it noted with a black coal, and wiped out in that in
famous bill of ex purgations 6.
Had the ancient church held this desperate sequel, what strange
and yet wilful cruelty had it been in them to defer baptism a
whole year long ; till Easter, or that Sunday which hath his
name, I think, from the white robes of the baptized ! Yea, what
an adventure was it in some, to adjourn it till their age with
Constantine ; if, being unsure of their life, they had been sure the
prevention of death would have inferred damnation !
Look unto that legal sacrament of circumcision ; which, con
trary to the fancies of our anabaptists, directly answers this
evangelical. Before the eighth day, they could not be circum
cised ; before the eighth day they might die. If dying the
seventh day they were necessarily condemned, either the want
of a day is a sin, or God sometimes condemneth not for sin :
neither of them possible ; neither, according with the justice of
the Lawgiver.
Or if from this parallel you please to look either to reason or
example, the case is clear.
Reason. No man that hath faith can be condemned ; for
Christ dwells in our hearts by faith : and he in whom Christ
dwells cannot be a reprobate. Now it is possible a man may
have a saving faith before baptism : Abraham first believed to
justification : then after received the sign of circumcision as a
seal of the righteousness of that faith which he had when he was
uncircumcised : therefore some, dying before their baptism, may,
yea must be saved. Neither was Abraham's case singular : he
was the father of all them also which believe, not being circum
cised : these, as they are his sons in faith, so in righteousness, so
in salvation: uncircumcision cannot hinder where faith admitteth:
these, following his steps of belief before the sacrament, shall
doubtless rest in his bosom without the sacrament ; without it,
as fatally absent, not as willingly neglected. It is not the water,
but the faith : not the putting atvay the filth of the flesh, saith
St. Peter, but the stipulation of a good conscience; for "who
takes baptism without a full faith," saith Jerome, "takes the
water, takes not the Spirit." " Whence is this so great virtue of
« Index Expurg,

Epist. IV.] Practical Works. 259
the water, that it should touch the body and cleanse the heart,"
saith Austin, " unless by the power of the word, not spoken, but
believed?" " Thou seest water," saith Ambrose0: "every water
heals not : that water only heals which hath the grace of God
annexed :" and " if there be any grace in the water," saith Basil', '
" it is not of the nature of the water, but of the presence of the
Spirit." Baptism is indeed, as St. Ambrose styles itk, "the pawn
and image of our resurrection;" yea, as Basil, "the power of
God to resurrection :" but as Ignatius expounds this phrase aright,
believing in his death, we are by baptism made partakers of his
resurrection. Baptism therefore, without faith, cannot save a
man ; and by faith doth save him : and faith without baptism,
where it cannot be had — not where it may be had, and is con
temned — may save him. That Spirit which works by nfeans will
not be tied to means.
Examples. Cast your eyes upon that good thief; good in his
death, though in his life abominable : he was never washed in
Jordan, yet is received into paradise : his soul was foul with
rapines and injustice, yea bloody with murders ; and yet, being-
scoured only with the blood of his Saviour, not with water of
baptism, it is presented glorious to God. I say nothing of the
souls of Trajan and Falconella, mere heathens ; living and dying
without Christ, without baptism : which yet their honest legend
reports to be delivered from hell, transported to heaven, not so
much as scorched in purgatory: the one by the prayers of Gregory,
the other, of Tecla. What partiality is this, to deny that to the
children of Christians which they grant to known infidels ! The
promise is made to us and our seed ; not to those that are without
the pale ofthe church. Those innocents which were massacred for
Christ are by them canonized for saints, and make one clay in
their calendar each year, both holy and dismal : whereof yet
scarce any lived to know water, none to know baptism. Yea, all
martyrs are here privileged, who are christened in their own
blood instead of water : but where hath God said, " All that die
without baptism shall die for ever, except martyrs?" why not
" except believers 1" It is faith that gives life to martys ; which
if they should want, their first death could not avoid the second.
Ambrose doubted not to say his Valentinian was baptized, because
h [Ambr. lib. De Myst. init. Basil, ix tov irveiparos irapovalas. Lib. De Spir.
1567. vol. iv. v. p. 423.] Sanct. c. xv.]
' fQore f't tis iarlv iv to! tJStm x^Pis k [Ambr. iu Ep. ad Rom. xv. c. 6.]
ovk e/c Trjs <pua£<*>s iari too vSaros, a\A' S 2

260 Practical Works. . [Decade V.
he desired it, not because he had it : he knew the mind of God,
who accounts us to have what we unfeignedly wish. Children
cannot live to desire baptism ; if their parents desire it for them,
why may not the desire of others be theirs as well as, according
to Austin's opinion, the faith of others believing, and the mouth
of others confessing ? In these cases therefore, of any souls but
our own, it is safe to suspend, and dangerous to pass judgment.
Secret things to God. He that made all souls knows what to
do with them, neither will make us of counsel. But, if we define
either way, the errors of charity are inoffensive. We must honour
good means, and use them ; and in their necessary want depend
upon Him who can work beyond, without, against means.
Thus have I endeavoured your Ladyship's satisfaction in what
you heard, not without some scruple. If any man shall blame
my choice in troubling you with a thorny and scholastical dis
course, let him know that I have learned this fashion of St. Jerome,
the oracle of antiquity ; who was wont to entertain his Paula
and Eustochium, Marcella, Principia, Hedibia, and other devout
ladies, with learned canvasses of the deep points of divinity. This
is not so perplexed, that it need to offend; nor so unnecessary,
that it may be unknown.

TO SIR RICHARD LEA,
since deceased.
Epistle V. — Discoursing ofthe comfortable remedies of all
afflictions.
Wise men seek remedies before their disease ; sensible patients,
when they begin to complain ; fools, too late. Afflictions are the
common maladies of Christians : these you feel, and upon the first
groans seek for ease. Wherefore serves the tongue of the learned
but to speak words in season ? I am a scholar of those that can
comfort you : if you shall with me take out my lessons, neither of
us shall repent it.
You smart and complain : take heed lest too much. There is
no affliction not grievous : the bone that was disjointed cannot be
set right without pain. No potion can cure us if it work not; it
works not except it make us sick : we are contented with that
sickness which is the way to health.
There is a vexation without hurt. Such is this. We are

Epist. V.] Practical Works. 261
afflicted, not over-pressed ; needy, not desperate ; persecuted, not
forsaken ; cast down, but perish not. How should we, when all
the evil in a city comes from the providence of a good God ;
which can neither be impotent nor unmerciful ? It is the Lord :
let him do what he will. Woe were us, if evils could come by
chance, or were let loose to alight where they list : now they are
overruled, we are safe.
The destiny of our sorrows is written in heaven by a wise and
eternal decree. Behold, he that hath ordained, moderates them :
a faithful God, that gives an issue with the temptation ; an issue,
both of their end and their success. He chides not always, much
less striketh. Our light afflictions are but for a moment; not so
long, in respect of our vacancy and rest. If we weep sometimes,
our tears are precious. As they shall never be dry in his bottle,
so they shall soon be dry upon our cheeks. He that wrings
them from us shall wipe them off. How sweetly doth he inter
change our sorrows and joys, that we may neither be vain nor
miserable !
It is true ; to be struck once in anger is fearful : his displeasure
is more than his blow : in both, our God is a consuming fire.
Fear not : these stripes are the tokens of his love : he is no
son that is not beaten ; yea, till he smart and cry, if not till he
bleed. No parent corrects another's child, and he is no good
parent that corrects not his own. 0 rod worthy to be kissed,
that assures us of his love, of our adoption !
What speak I of no hurt ? short praises do but discommend :
I say more, these evils are good. Look to their effects. What is
good, if not patience ? Affliction is the mother of it : tribulation
bringeth forth patience. What can earth or heaven yield better
than the assurance of God's Spirit? afflictions argue, yea seal
this to us. Wherein stands perfect happiness, if not in our near
resemblance of Christ ? why was man created happy, but because
in God's image ? the glory of paradise, the beauty of his body,
the duty of the creatures, could not give him felicity without the
likeness to his Creator.
Behold, what we lost in our height we recover in our misery ;
a conformity to the image of the Son of God. He that is not
like his elder brother shall never be coheir with him. Lo his
side, temples, hands, feet, all bleeding ; his face blubbered, ghastly,
and spitted on ; his skin all pearled with a bloody sweat ; his
head drooping, his soul heavy to the death. See you the world-

262 Practical Works. [Decade V.
ling merry, soft, delicate, perfumed, never wrinkled with sorrow,
never humbled with afflictions ? What resemblance is here ! yea,
what contrariety ! Ease slayeth the fool : it hath made him resty,
and leaves him miserable. Be not deceived : no man can follow
Christ without his cross, much less reach him. And if none
shall reign with Christ but those that suffer with him, what shall
become of these jolly ones ?
Go now, thou dainty worldling, and please thyself in thy hap
piness. Laugh always ; and be ever applauded : it is a woful
felicity that thou shalt find in opposition to thy Redeemer. He
hath said, Woe to them that laugh: behevest thou, and dost not
weep at thy laughter ? and, with Solomon, condemn it of mad
ness? And again, with the same breath, Blessed are ye that
weep: who can believe this, and not rejoice in his own tears;
and not pity the faint smiles of the godless ?
Why blessed ? for ye shall laugh : behold, we that weep on
earth shall laugh in heaven ; we that now weep with men shall
laugh with angels ; while the fleering worldling shall be gnash
ing and howling with devils : we that weep for a time shall laugh
for ever. Who would not be content to defer his joy a little, that
it may be perpetual and infinite ? What madman would purchase
this crackling of thorns— such is the worldling's joy — with eternal
shrieking and torment ?
He that is the door and the way hath taught us, that through
many afflictions we must enter into heaven. There is but one
passage, and that a strait one : if with much pressure we can
get through, and leave but our superfluous rags, as torn from us
•in the crowd, we are happy. He that made heaven hath on
purpose thus framed it ; wide, when we are entered, and glo
rious ; narrow and hard in the entrance ; that after our pain
our glory might be sweeter.
And if beforehand you can climb up thither in your thoughts,
look about you, you shall see no more palms than crosses ; you
shall see none crowned hut those that have wrestled with crosses
and sorrows, to sweat, yea to blood, and have overcome. All
runs here to the ovcrcomer ; and overcoming implies both fight
ing and success. Gird up your loins, therefore, and strengthen
your weak knees. Resolve to fight for heaven ; to suffer, fight
ing ; to persist in suffering: so persisting, you shall overcome;
and overcoming, you shall be crowned.
0 reward, truly great, above desert ; yen, above conceit ! A

Epist. VI.] Practical Works. 263
crown, for a few groans; an eternal crown of life and glory, for
a short and momentary suffering. How just is St. Paul's account,
that tho afflictions of this present life are not worthy of the glory
which shall be showed unto us ! 0 Lord, let me smart that I
may reign ; uphold thou me in smarting, that thou mayest hold
me worthy of reigning. It is no matter how vile I be, so I may
be glorious.
What say you ? would you not be afflicted ? Whether had you
rather mourn for a while or for ever? One must be chosen:
the election is easy. Whether had you rather rejoice for one
fit, or always? You would do both. Pardon me, it is a fond
covetousness and idle singularity to affect it. What ! that you
alone may fare better than all God's saints ! that God should
strew carpets for your nice feet only to walk into your heaven ;
and make that way smooth for you which all patriarchs, pro
phets, evangelists, confessors, Christ himself, have found rugged
and bloody ! Away with this self-love, and come down, you am
bitious sons of Zebedee ; and ere you think of sitting near the
throne, be content to be called unto the cup. Now is your trial.
Let your Saviour see how much of his bitter potion you can
pledge ; then shall you see how much of his glory he can afford
you. Be content to drink of his vinegar and gall, and you shall
drink new wine with him in his kingdom.

TO M. PETER MOULIN',
PREACHER OF THE CHURCH AT PARIS.
Epistle VI. — Discoursing ofthe late French occurrences ;
and what use God expects to be made of them.
Since your travels here with us, we have not forgotten you :
but since that, your witty and learned travels in the common
affairs of religion have made your memory both fresh and
blessed. Behold, while your hand was happily busy in the defence of
our king, the heads and hands of traitors were busy in the mas
sacring of your ownm. God doth no memorable and public act
which he would not have talked of, read, construed of all the world ;
how much more of neighbours, whom scarce a sea severeth from
each other ! how much yet more of brethren, whom neither land
1 [Is. Casaubon being at Paris says of him, " Molinceo eruditissimo Pastore hujus
Ecclesiffi." Ephem. xiv. kal. Jul. 1602.]
m [Henry IV. of France.]

264 Practical Works. [Decade V.
nor sea can sever ! Your dangers and fears and griefs ha^ been
ours ; all the salt water that runs betwixt us cannot wash off our
interest in all your common causes. The deadly blow of that
miscreant, whose name is justly sentenced to forgetfulness, pierced
even our sides. Who hath not bled within himself, to think that
he, which had so victoriously outlived the swords of enemies,
should fall by the knife of a villain ? and that he should die in
the peaceable streets whom no fields could kill ? that all those
honourable and happy triumphs should end in so base a violence ?
But, 0, our idleness and impiety, if we see not a divine hand
from above striking with this hand of disloyalty ! Sparrows fall
not to the ground without him, much less kings. One dies by
a tilesherd, another by the splinters of a lance; one by hee,
another by a fly ; one by poison, another by a knife. What are
all these but the executioners of that great God which hath said,
Ye are gods, but ye shall die like men ?
Perhaps God saw (that we may guess modestly at the reasons
of his acts) you reposed too much in this arm of flesh ; or per
haps he saw this scourge would have been too early to those
enemies, whose sin, though great, yet was not full; or perhaps
he saw, that if that great spirit had been deliberately yielded in
his bed, you should not have slept in yours ; or perhaps the
ancient connivance at those streams of blood from your too com
mon duels was now called to reckoning ; or, it may be, that
weak revolt from the truth.
He whose the rod was knows why he struck ; yet may it not
pass without a note, that he fell by that religion to which he fell.
How many ages might that great monarch have lived, whatsoever
the ripe head of your more than mellow Cotton could imagine,
ere his least finger should have bled by the hand of an Huguenot !
All religions may have some monsters ; but, blessed be the God
of heaven, ours shall never yield that good Jesuit, either a Ma
riana to teach treason, or a Ravaillac to act it.
But what is that we hear ? It is no marvel that holy society
is a fit guardian for the hearts of kings : I dare say, none more
loves to see them ; none takes more care to purchase them. How
happy wore that chapel, think they, if it were full of such shrines !
I hope all Christian princes have long and well learned — so great
is the courtesy of these good fathers — that they shall never by
their wills need be troubled with the charge of their own hearts.
An heart of a king in a Jesuit's hand is as proper as a wafer in

Epist. VII.] Practical Works. 265
a priest's. Justly was it written of old, under the picture of
Ignatius Loyola, Cavete vobis, principes ; "Be wise, 0 ye princes,"
and learn to be the keepers of your own hearts. Yea rather, O
thou Keeper of Israel, that neither slumberest nor sleepest, keep
thou the hearts of all Christian kings, whether alive or dead,
from the keeping of this traitorous generation, whose very reli
gion is holy rebellion, and whose merits bloody.
Doubtless, that murderer hoped to have stabbed thousands
with that blow, and to have let out the life of religion at the side
of her collapsed patron. God did at once laugh and frown at his
project, and suffered him to live to see himself no less a fool than
a villain. 0, the infinite goodness of the wise and holy Governor
of the world! Who could have looked for such a calm in the
midst of a tempest ? who would have thought that violence could
beget peace ? who durst have conceived that king Henry should
die alone ? and that religion should lose nothing but his person ?
This is the LorcVs doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes.
You have now paralleled us. Out of both our fears God hath
fetched security. 0, that out of our security we could as easily
fetch fear ; not so much of evil, as of the Author of good ; and
yet trust him in our fear, and in both magnify him ! Yea, you
have by this act gained some converts against the hope of the
agents ; neither can I without many joyful congratulations think
of the estate of your church, which every day honours with the
access of new clients, whose tears and sad confessions make the
angels to rejoice in heaven and the saints on earth. We should
give you example, if our peace were as plentiful of goodness as of
pleasure. But how seldom hath the Church gained by ease or
lost by restraint ! Bless you God for our prosperity, and we shall
praise him for your progress.

TO MR. THOMAS SUTTON".
Epistle VII. — Exciting him, and in him all others, to early and
cheerful beneficence : shewing the necessity and benefit
of good works.
Sir, — I trouble you not with reasons of my writing or, with
excuses. If I do ill, no plea can warrant me ; if well, I cannot
n [Founder of the Charterhouse.]

266 Practical Works. [Decade V.
be discouraged with any censures. I crave not your pardon, but
your acceptation. It is no presumption- to give good counsel, and
presents of love fear not to be ill taken of strangers. My pen
and your substance are both given us for one end, to do good :
these are our talents : how happy are we if we can improve them
well ! Suffer me to do you good with the one, that with the other
you may do good to many, and most to yourself.
You cannot but know, that your full hand and worthy purposes
have possessed the world with much expectation. What speak I
of the world ? whose honest and reasonable claims yet cannot be
contemned with honour, nor disappointed without dishonour. The
God of heaven, which hath lent you this abundance, and given
you these gracious thoughts of charity, of piety, looks long for
the issue of both, and will easily complain either of too httle or
too late.
Your wealth and your will are both good ; but the first is only
made good by the second : for if your hand were full and your
heart empty, we who now applaud you should justly pity you.
You might have riches, not goods, not blessings. Your burden
should be greater than your estate, and you should be richer in
sorrows than in metals.
For if we look to no other world, what gain is it to be the
keeper of the best earth ? That which is the common coffer of
all the rich mines, we do but tread upon ; and account it vile,
because it doth but hold and hide those treasures : whereas the
skilful metallist that findeth and refineth those precious veins for
public use is rewarded, is honoured. The very basest element
yields gold : the savage Indian gets it ; the servile prentice works
it ; the very Midianitish camel may wear it ; the miserable world
ling admires it; the covetous Jew swallows it; the unthrifty ruffian
spends it : what are all these the better for it ? Only good use
gives praise to earthly possessions.
Herein, therefore, you owe more to God, that he hath given
you an heart to do good, a will to be as rich in good works as
great in riches. To be a friend to this Mammon is to be an
enemy to God ; but to make friends with it is royal and Christian.
His enemies may be wealthy; none but his friends can either be
good or do good. Da et accipc, saith the Wise Man. The
Christian, which must imitate the high pattern of his Creator,
knows his best riches to be bounty : God that hath all, gives all ;
reserves nothing : and for himself ho well considers, that God

Epist. VII.] Practiced Works. 267
hath not made him an owner, but a servant ; and of servants, a
servant, not of his goods, but of the Giver ; not a treasurer, but
a steward : whose praise is more to lay out well, than to have
received much. The greatest gain therefore that he affects is
an even reckoning, a clear discharge : which since it is obtained
by disposing, not by keeping, he counts reservation loss, and just
expense his trade and joy. He knows that Well done, faithful
servant, is a thousand times more sweet a note, than Soul, take
thine ease : for that is the voice of the Master recompensing ;
this, of the carnal heart presuming : and what follows to the one,
but his Master's joy ? what to the other, but the loss of his soul ?
Blessed be that God, which hath given you an heart to forethink
this ; and, in this dry and dead age, a will to honour him with
his own ; and to credit his gospel with your beneficence. Lo, we
are upbraided with barrenness : your name hath been publicly
opposed to these challenges ; as in whom it shall be seen that the
truth hath friends that can give.
I neither distrust nor persuade you, whose resolutions are hap
pily fixed on purposes of good ; only give me leave to hasten
your pace a little, and to excite your Christian forwardness to
begin speedily what you have long and constantly vowed. You
would not but do good : why not now ? I speak boldly : the
more speed the more comfort. Neither the times are in our
disposing, nor ourselves : if God had set us a day, and made our
wealth inseparable, there were no danger in delaying : now our
uncertainty either must quicken us or may deceive us. How
many have meant well and done nothing, and lost their crown with
lingering ! whose destinies have prevented their desires, and have
made their good motions the wards of their executors, not without
miserable success : to whom, that they would have done good, is
not so great a praise, as it is dishonour that they might have
done it. Their wrecks are our warnings : we are equally mortal,
equally fickle. Why have you this respite of living, but to pre
vent the imperious necessity of death ? It is a woful and reme
diless complaint, that the end of our days hath overrun the
beginning of our good works. Early beneficence hath no danger,
many joys : for the conscience of good done, the prayers and
blessings of the relieved, the gratulations of the saints, are as so
many perpetual comforters, which can make our life pleasant and
our death happy ; our evil days good, and our good better. All
these are lost with delay : few and cold are the prayers for him

268 Practical Works. [Decade V.
that may give ; and in lieu, our good' purposes foreslowed are
become our tormentors upon our deathbed.
Little difference is betwixt good deferred and evil done. Good
was meant : who hindered it ? will our conscience say : there was
time enough, means enough, need enough, what hindered? Did
fear of envy, distrust of want ? Alas, what bugs are these to
fright men from heaven ! As if the envy of keeping were less
than of bestowing. As if God were not as good a debtor as a
giver : He that gives to the poor lends to God, saith wise Solomon.
If he freely give us what we may lend, and grace to give ; will
he not much more pay us what we have lent, and give us, because
we have given? that is his bounty ; this, his justice.
0, happy is that man that may be a creditor to his Maker!
Heaven and earth shall be empty, before he shall want a royal
payment. If we dare not trust God while we live, how dare we
trust men when we are dead ? men that are still deceitful and
light upon the balance ; light of truth, heavy of self-love. How
many executors have proved the executioners of honest wills !
how many have our eyes seen, that, after most careful choice of
trusty guardians, have had their children and goods so disposed,
as if the parent's soul could return to see it, I doubt whether it
could be happy ! How rare is that man that prefers not himself
to his dead friend ! profit to truth ! that will take no vantage of
the impossibility of account ! Whatever therefore men either
show or promise, happy is that man that may be his own auditor,
supervisor, executor.
As you love God and yourself, be not afraid of being happy too
soon. I am not worthy to give so bold advice : let the wise man of
Sirach speak for me : " Do good before thou die ; and, according
to thine ability, stretch out thine hands and give : defraud not
thyself of thy good day ; and let not the portion of thy good
desires overpass thee : shalt thou not leave thy travails to another,
and thy labours to them that will divide thine heritage?" Or, let a
wiser than he, Solomon : Say not, To morrow I will give if now
thou have it : for thou knowest not what a day will bring forth.
It hath been an old rule of liberality, He gives twice that gives
quickly ; whereas slow benefits argue unchecifulness, and lose
their worth. Who lingers his receipts is condemned as unthrifty.
He that knoweth both, saith, It is better to give than to receive.
If we bo of the same spirit, why are wc hasty in the worse and
slack in the better ?

Epist. VIII.] Practical Works. 269
Suffer you yourself therefore, good sir, for God's sake, for the
Gospel's sake, for the Church's sake, for your soul's sake, to be
stirred up by these poor lines to a resolute and speedy perform
ing of your worthy intentions : and take this as a loving invita
tion sent from heaven by an unworthy messenger. You cannot
deliberate long of fit objects for your beneficence ; except it be
more for multitude than want : the streets, yea the world is full.
How doth Lazarus lie at every door ! How many sons of the
prophets in their meanly provided colleges, may say, not, Mors in
olla, hut fames ! How many churches may justly plead that which
our Saviour bade his disciples, The Lord hath need ? And if this
infinite store hath made your choice doubtful, how easy were it to
show you wherein you might oblige the whole Church of God to
you, and make your memorial both eternal and blessed ; or, if
you had rather, the whole commonwealth ?
But now I find myself too bold and too busy in thus looking to
particularities. God shall direct you, and, if you follow him, shall
crown you. Howsoever, if good be done, and that betimes, he
hath what he desired, and your soul shall have more than you can
desire. The success of my weak yet hearty counsel shall make
me as rich as God hath made you, with all your abundance. That
God bless it to you, and make both our reckonings cheerful in the
day of our common audit.

TO E. B.
dedicated to sib geobge gobing0.
Epistle VIII. — Remedies against dulness and heartlessness in
our callings, and encouragement to cheerfulness in labour.
It falls out not seldom, if we may measure all by one, that the
mind overlaid with work grows dull and heavy, and now doth
nothing because it hath done too much. Over lavish expense of
spirits hath left it heartless ; as the best vessel, with much motion
and vent, becomes flat and dreggish.
And not fewer, of more weak temper, discourage themselves with
the difficulty of what they must do. Some travellers have more
shrunk at the map than at the way.
Betwixt both, how many sit still with their hands folded, and
° [Afterwards Baron Goring, and finally, 1644/ Earl of Norwich.]

270 Practical Works. [Decade V.
wish they knew how to be rid of time ! If this evil be not cured, we
become miserable losers both of good hours and of good parts.
In these mental diseases, empirics are the best physicians. I
prescribe you nothing but out of feeling.
If you will avoid the first, moderate your own vehemency.
Suffer not yourself to do all you could do. Rise ever from your
desk not without an appetite. The best horse will tire soonest if
the reins lie ever loose in his neck. Restraints in these cases are
encouragements ; obtain therefore of yourself to defer and take
new days. How much better is it to refresh yourself with many
competent meals, than to buy one day's gluttony with the fast of
many ! And if it be hard to call off the mind in the midst of a fair
and likely flight, know that all our ease and safety begins at the
command of ourselves : he can never task himself well that cannot
favour himself. Persuade your heart' that perfection comes by
leisure, and no excellent thing is done at once : the rising and
setting of many suns, which you think slackens your work, in
truth ripens it. That gourd which came up in a night withered
in a day ; whereas those plants which abide age rise slowly. In
deed, where the heart is unwilling, prorogation hinders : what I
list not to do this day, I loathe the next ; but where is no want of
desire, delay doth but sharpen the stomach. That which we do un
willingly leave, we long to undertake ; and the more our affection
is, the greater our intention, and the better our performance. To
take occasion by the foretop is no small point of wisdom ; but to
make time, which is wild and fugitive, tame and pliable to our
purposes, is the greatest improvement of a man. All times serve
him which hath the rule of himself.
If the second, think seriously of the condition of your being. It
is that we were made for : the bird to fly, and man to labour. What
do we here, if we repine at our work ? We had not been, but that
we might be still busy ; if not in this task we dislike, yet in some
other, of no less toil. There is no act that hath not his labour,
which varies in measure according to the will of the doer. This
which you complain of hath been undertaken by others, not with
facility only, but with pleasure; and what you choose for ease
hath" been abhorred of others as tedious. All difficulty is not so
much in the work as in the agent. To set the mind on the rack
of a long meditation, you say, is a torment ; to follow the swift
foot of your hound all day long hath no weariness : what would
you say of him that finds better game in his study than you in

Epist. VIII.] Practical Works. 271
the field, and would account your disport his punishment ? Such
there are, though you doubt and wonder. Never think to de
tract from your business, but add to your will. It is the policy
of our great enemy to drive us with these fears from that he
foresees would grow profitable ; like as some inhospitable savages
make fearful delusions by sorcery upon the shore, to fright
strangers from landing. Where you find, therefore, motions of
resistance, awaken your courage the more, and know there is some„=
good that appears not. Vain endeavours find no opposition. All
crosses imply a secret commodity ; resolve then to will, because
you begin not to will ; and either oppose yourself, as Satan op
poses you, or else you do nothing. We pay no price to God for
any good thing, but labour ; if we higgle in that, we are worthy
to lose our bargain. It is an invaluable gain that we may make
in this traffick, for God is bountiful as well as just ; and, when he
sees true endeavour, doth not only sell, but give ; whereas idle
ness neither gets nor saves : nothing is either more fruitless of
good or more fruitful of evil ; for we do ill while we do nothing,
and lose while we gain not. The sluggard is senseless, and so
much more desperate, because he cannot complain. But though
he feel it not, nothing is more precious than time, or that shall
abide a reckoning more strict and fearful ; yea, this is the mea
sure of all our actions, which if it were not abused, our accounts
could not be but even with God : so God esteems it, whatever our
price be, that he plagues the loss of a short time with a revenge
beyond all times. Hours have wings, and every moment fly up
to the Author of time, and carry news of our usage ; all our
prayers cannot entreat one of them either to return or slacken
his pace ; the mispense of every minute is a new record against
us in heaven. Sure, if we thought thus, we would dismiss them
with better reports, and not suffer them either to go away empty,
or laden with dangerous intelligence. How happy is it, that every
hour should convey up not only the message, but the fruits of
good ; and stay with the Ancient of days, to speak for us before
his glorious throne ! Know this, and I shall take no care for your
pains, nor you for pastime. None of our profitable labours shall
be transient; but even when we have forgotten them, shall wel
come us into joy : we think we have left them behind us, but they
are forwarder than our souls, and expect us where we would be.
And if there were no crown for these toils, yet, without future re
spects, there is a tediousness in doing nothing. To man especially,

272 Practical Works. [Decade V.
motion is natural ; there is neither mind nor eye nor joint which
moveth not ; and as company makes a way short, hours never go
away so merrily as in the fellowship of work. How did that in
dustrious heathen draw out water by night and knowledge by
day, and thought both short ; ever labouring only that he might
labour ! Certainly, if idleness were enacted by authority, there
would not want some which would pay their mulct that they might
work; and those spirits are likest to heaven which move always,
and the freest from those corruptions which are incident to nature.
The running stream cleanseth itself, whereas standing ponds breed
weeds and mud. These meditations must hearten us to that we
must do. While we are cheerful, our labours shall strive whether
to yield us more comfort or others more profit.

TO SIR JOHN HARRINGTONp.
Epistle IX. — Discussing this question: — Wliether a man and
wife, after some years mutual and loving fruition of each
other, may, upon consent, whether for secular or religious
causes, vow and perform a perpetual separation from each
other's bed, and absolutely renounce all carnal knowledge of
each other for ever.
I wish not myself any other advocate, nor you any other ad
versary, than St. Paul, who never gave, I speak boldly, a direct
precept, if not in this.
His express charge, whereupon I insisted, is, Defraud not one
another ; except with consent for a time, that you may give your
selves to fasting and prayer; and then again come together,
that Satan tempt you not for your incontinency . Every word, if
you weigh it well, opposes your part, and pleads for mine. By
consent of all divines, ancient and modern, defrauding is refraining
from matrimonial conversation : see what a word the Spirit of
God hath chosen for this abstinence, never but taken in ill part.
"But there is no fraud in consent, as Chrysostom, Athanasius,
Theophylact, expound it ;" true, therefore St. Paul adds, unless
with consent ; that I may omit to say, that, in saying unless ivith
consent,- he implies, both that there may be a defrauding without
p [Younger son of Sir J . Harrington, who was created by James I, at his co
ronation, Baron Exton.]

Epist. IX.] Practical Works. 273
it, and with consent a defrauding, but not unlawful. But see what
he adds, for a time : consent cannot make this defrauding lawful,
except it be temporary : no defrauding, without consent ; no con
sent, for a perpetuity. " How long then, and wherefore ?" not for
every cause ; not for any length of time ; but only for a while,
and for devotion, ut vacetis, 8cc. Not that you may pray only, as
Chrysostom notes justly, but that you might give yourselves to
prayer. In our marriage society, saith he against that paradox
of Jerome, we may pray ; and woe to us if we do not ; but we
cannot vacare orationi. " But we are bidden to pray continually :"
yet not, I hope, ever to fast and pray. Mark how the apostle
adds, that you may give yourselves to fasting and prayer. It is
solemn exercise which the apostle here intends ; such as is joined
with fasting and external humiliation, wherein all earthly comforts
must be forborne. " But what if a man list to task himself con
tinually, and will be always painfully devout, may he then ever
abstain?" No : Let them meet together again, saith the apostle :
not as a toleration, but as a charge. " But what if they both can
live safely, thus severed ?" This is more than they can undertake :
there is danger, saith our apostle, in this abstinence, lest Satan
tempt you for your incontinency . What can be more plain? Nei
ther may the married refrain this conversation without consent ;
neither may they, with consent, refrain it for ever.
What can you now urge us with, but the examples and sentences
of some ancients ?
Let this stand evicted for the true and necessary sense of the
apostle ; and what is this but to lay men in the balance with God ?
I see and confess how much some of the Fathers admired virginity;
so far, that there wanted not some which both detested marriage
as vicious, and would force a single life upon marriage, as com
mendable : whose authority should move me if I saw not some of
them opposite to others, and others no less to St. Paul himself.
How oft doth St. Austin redouble that rule, and importunately
urge it to his Ecdicia in that serious epistle ; That, without consent,
the continence of the married cannot be warrantable ! teaching
her, (from these words of St. Paul, which he charges her, in the
contrary practice, not to have read, heard, or marked,) that if her
husband should contain, and she would not, he were bound to pay
her the debt of marriage benevolence, and that God would impute
it to him for continence notwithstanding. Hence is that of Chrys-
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. T

274 Practical Works. [Decade V.
ostom0, that the wife is both the servant and the mistress of her
husband ; a servant, to yield her body ; a mistress, to have power
of his. Who also, in the same place, determines it forbidden
fraud for the husband or wife to contain alone, according to that
of the Paraphrast, " Let either both contain, or neither." Jerome,
contrarily, defines thus : " But if one of the two," saith he, " con
sidering the reward of chastity, will contain, he ought not to as
sent to the other, which contains not, &c. because lust ought rather
to come to continency, than continency decline to lust :" concluding,
that a brother or a sister is not subject in such a case, and that
God hath not called us to uncleanness, but to holiness. A strange
gloss to fall from the pen of a Father ! which yet I durst not say
if it were more boldness for me to dissent from him, than for him
to dissent from all others. He that censures St. Paul to argue
grossly to his Galatians may as well tax him with an unfit di
rection to his Corinthians. It shall be no presumption to say, that
in this poin.t all his writings bewray more zeal than truth ; whether
the conscience of his former slip caused him to abhor that sex, or
his admiration of virginity transported him to a contempt of mar
riage. Antiquity will afford you many examples of holy men
voluntarily sequestered from their wives. Precepts must be our
guides, and not patterns. You may tell me of Sozomen's Amnion P,
that famous monk, who, having persuaded his bride the first day
to continuance of virginity, lived with her eighteen years in a
several bed, and in a several habitation upon the mountain Nitria
twenty-two years') : you may tell me of Jerome's Malchus, Austin's
Ecdicia. and ten thousand others : I care not for their number,
and suspect their example. Do but reconcile their practice with
St. Paul's rule, I shall both magnify and imitate them. I profess,
before God and men, nothing should hinder me but this law of the
apostle : whereto consider, I beseech you, what can be more op
posite than this opinion, than this course of life.
The apostle says, Refrain not, but with consent, for a time :
your words, and their practice saith, " Refrain, with consent, for
ever.'' He saith, meet together again: you say, "never more."
He saith, meet, lest you be tempted : you say, " meet not,
though you be tempted." I willingly grant, with Athanasius,
that for some set time, especially, as Auselm interprets it, for
some holy time, we may, and, in this latter case, we must for-
- Horn, in i Gor. vii. i' ['A/wOc 6 Alyvirrios, Soz. Hist. Eccles. lib. i. c. 14.]
1 [Also Socr. lib. iv. c. 13.]

Epist. IX.] Practical Works. 275
bear all matrimonial acts and thoughts; not for that they are
sinful, but unseasonable. As marriage must be always used
chastely and moderately; so sometimes it must be forgotten.
How many are drunk with their own vines, and surfeit of their
own fruits ! either immodesty or immoderation in man or wife is
adulterous. If yet I shall further yield, that they may condi
tionally agree to refrain from each other so long till they be per
plexed with temptations on either part, I shall go as far as the
reach of my warrant at least, perhaps beyond it; since the
apostle chargeth, Meet again, lest you be tempted ; not, " meet
when you are tempted." But to say, absolutely and for ever
renounce by consent the conversation of each other, what temp
tation so ever assault you, is directly, not beyond, but against
Paul's divinity, no less than my assertion is against yours.
The ground of all these errors in this head of matrimony is an
unworthy conceit of some unchristian filthiness in the marriage-
bed. Every man will not utter, but too many hold that conclu
sion of Jerome : " It is good for a man not to touch a woman ;
therefore to touch her is evil :" whom I doubt not but St. Austin
meant to oppose, while he writes r, Bonum, inquam, sunt nuptice;
et contra omnes calunvnias possunt, sana ratione, defendi :
"Marriage, I say, is a good thing; and may, by sound proof, be
defended against all slanders." Well may man say, that it is
good which God saith is honourable ; and both good and honour
able must that needs be which was instituted by the honourable
Author of goodness in the state of man's perfect goodness. Let
us take heed of casting shame upon the ordinance of our Maker.
" But there was no carnal knowledge in paradise :" but, again,
in paradise God said, Increase and multiply: there should have
been, if there were not. Those that were naked without shame
should have been conjoined without shame, because without sin.
'•' Meats and drinks — and acts of marriage," saith Austin3, for these
he compares both in lawfulness and necessity — " are, as they are
used, either lawful, venial, or damnable." Meats are for the preser
vation of man ; marriage acts for the preservation of mankind :
neither of them without some carnal delight ; which yet, if by the
bridle of temperance it be held to the proper and natural use, can
not be termed lust. There is no ordinance of God, which either is
of more excellent use, or hath suffered more abuse in all times : the

>' De bono Conujug. cap. xvi. " Ibid. cap. ix. &c. xvi.
T 2

276 Practical Works. [Decade V.
fault is in men, not in marriage : let them rectify themselves, their
bed shall be blessed. Here need no separation from each other,
but rather a separation of brutishness and close corruption from
the soul ; which whosoever hath learned to remove, shall find the
crown of matrimonial chastity no less glorious than that of single
continence.

TO MR. WILLIAM KNIGHT.
Epistle X.— Encouraging him to persist in the holy calling of
the ministry; which, upon conceit, of his insufficiency and want
of affection, he seemed inclining to forsake and change.
I am not more glad to hear from you, than sorry to hear of
your discontentment ; whereof, as the cause is from yourself, so
must the remedy. We scholars are the aptest of all others to
make ourselves miserable : you might be your own best coun
sellor, were you but indifferent to yourself. If I could but cure
your prejudice, your thoughts would heal you : and indeed the
same hand that wounded you were fittest for this service.
I need not tell you that your calling is honourable : if you did
not think so, you had not complained. It is your unworthiness
that troubles you. Let me boldly tell you, I know you, in this
case, better than yourself: you are never the more unsufficient,
because you think so. If we will be rigorous, Paul's question,
Tts tKavbs, will appose us all : but, according to the gracious in
dulgence of Him that calls things which are not as if they were,
we are that we are ; yea, that we ought and must be thankful
for our any thing. There are none more fearful than the able ;
none more bold than the unworthy. How many have you seen
and heard, of weaker graces, (your own heart shall be the judge,)
which have sat, without paleness or trembling, in that holy chair ;
and spoken, as if the words had been their own ; satisfying them
selves, if not the hearers ! And do you, whose gifts many have
envied, stand quaking upon the lowest stair? Hath God given
you that unusual variety of tongues ; style of arts, a style worth
emulation; and, which is worth all, a faithful and honest heart;
and do you now shrink back, and say, Send him by whom thou
shouldest send ? Give but God what you have ; ho expects no more :
this is enough to honour him and crown you. Take heed, while
you complain of want, lest pride shroud itself under the skirts of

Epist. X.] Practical Works. 277
modesty. How many are thankful for less ! You have more than
the most ; yet this contents you not : it is nothing, unless you
may equal the best, if not exceed : yea, I fear how this may
satisfy you, unless you may think yourself such as you would be.
What is this, but to grudge at the Bestower of graces ? I tell
you, without flattery, God hath great gains by fewer talents : set
your heart to employ these, and your advantage shall be more
than your Master's. Neither do now repent you of the unad-
visedness of your entrance : God called you to it, upon an eternal
dehberation; and meant to make use of your suddenness, as a
means to fetch you into this work, whom more leisure would have
found refractory. Full little did the one Saul think of a king
dom, when he went to seek his father's strays in the land of
Shalishah ; or the other Saul of an apostleship, when he went with
his commission to Damascus : God thought of both, and effected
what they meant not. Thus hath he done to you : acknowledge
this hand, and follow it. He found and gave both faculty and
opportunity to enter : find you but a will to proceed ; I dare pro
mise you abundance of comfort. How many of the ancients, after
a forcible ordination, became, not profitable only, but famous in
the Church !
But, as if you sought shifts to discourage yourself, when you
see you cannot maintain this hold of insufficiency, you fly to
alienation of affection : in the truth whereof none can control
you but your own heart; in the justice of it, we both may and
must. This plea is not for Christians : we must affect what we
ought, in spite of ourselves : wherefore serves religion, if not to
make us lords of our own affections ? If we must be ruled by our
slaves, what good should we do ? Can you more dislike your sta
tion than we all naturally distaste goodness ? Shall we neglect
the pursuit of virtue, because it pleases not ; or rather displease
and neglect ourselves, till it may please us ! Let me not ask,
whether your affections be estranged, but wherefore ? Divinity is
a mistress worthy your service : all other arts are but drudges to
her alone : fools may contemn her, who cannot judge of true in
tellectual beauty ; but if they had our eyes, they could not but be
ravished with admiration : you have learned, I hope, to contemn
their contempt, and to pity injurious ignorance : she hath chosen
you as a worthy client, yea a favourite, and hath honoured you
with her commands and her acceptations : who but you would
plead strangeness of affection ? How many thousands sue to her,

278 Practical Works. [Decade V.
and cannot be looked upon ! You are happy in her favours, and
yet complain ; yea so far, as that you have not stuck to think of
a change. No word could have fallen from you more unwelcome. This is
Satan's policy, to make us out of love with our callings, that our
labours may be unprofitable and our standings tedious. He knows
that all changes are fruitless, and that while we affect to be other,
we must needs be weary of what we are : that there is no success
in apy endeavour without pleasure : that there can be no pleasure
where the mind longs after alterations. If you espy not this craft
of the common enemy, you are not acquainted with yourself.
Under what form soever it come, repel it ; and abhor the first
motion of it, as you love your peace, as you hope for your reward.
It is the misery of the most men, that they cannot see when they
are happy ; and, while they see but the outside of others' condi
tions, prefer that which their experience teaches them afterwards
to condemn, not without loss and_tears : far be this unstableness
from you, which have been so long taught of God. All vocations
have their inconveniences; which, if they cannot be avoided,
must be digested. The more difficulties, the greater glory. Stand
fast therefore, and resolve that this calling is the best, both in
itself and for you; and know, that it cannot stand with your
Christian courage to run away from these incident evils, but to
encounter them. Your hand is at the plough : if you meet with
some tough clods, that will not easily yield to the share, lay on
more strength rather : seek not remedy in your feet, by flight ;
but in your hands, by a constant endeavour.. Away with this
weak timorousness and wrongful humility. Be cheerful and
courageous in this great work of God ; the end shall be glorious,
yourself happy, and many in you.

EPISTLES.
THE SIXTH DECADE.
BY JOS. HALL.

THE TABLE.
I. — To my Lord Denny : A particular account how our days are or should be
spent, both common and holy.
II. — To Mr. T. S., dedicated to Sir Fulke Grevill : Discoursing how we may
use the world without danger.
III. — To Sir George Fleetwood : Ofthe remedies of sin, and motives to avoid it.
IV. — To Doctor Mllburne : Discoursing how far and wherein popery de-
stroyeth the foundation.
V, — Written long since to Mr. J. W. : Dissuading from separation ; and
shortly oppugning the grounds of that error.
VI. — To Mr. I. B. : A complaint of the miseducation of our gentry.
VII. — To Mr. Jonas Reigesbergius in Zealand : Written somewhile since con
cerning some new opinions then broached in the churches of Holland ; and
under the name of Arminius, then living : persuading all great wits to »
study and care of the common peace of the Church ; dissuading from all
affectation of singularity.
VIII. — To W. J. condemned for murder : Effectually preparing him, and, under
his name, whatsoever malefactor, for his death.
IX. — To Mr. John Mole, of a long time now prisoner under the Inquisition at
Rome : Exciting him, to his wonted constancy ; and encouraging him to
martyrdom.
X.— To All Readers : Containing rules of good advice for oujt Christian and
civil carriage.

280 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
TO MY LORD DENNY*.

Epistle I. — A particular account how our days are or should
be spent, both common and holy.
Evert day is a little life ; and our whole life is but a day
repeated : whence it is, that old Jacob numbers his life by days ;
and Moses desires to be taught this point of holy arithmetic — To
number, not his years, but his days. Those, therefore, that dare
lose a day are dangerously prodigal ; those that dare mispend it,
desperate. We can best teach others by ourselves : let me tell your lord
ship how I Would pass my days, whether common or sacred ; that
you, or whosoever others overhearing me, may either approve my
thriftiness or correct my errors. To whom is the account of my
hours either more due or more known ?
All days are his who gave time a beginning and continuance :
yet some he hath made ours ; not to command, but to use. In
none may we forget him : in some, we must forget all besides
him. First, therefore, I desire to awake at those hours, not when I
will, but when I must : pleasure is not a fit rule for rest, but
health : neither do I consult so much with the sun as mine own
necessity, whether of body, or, in that, of the mind. If this
vassal could well serve me waking, it should never sleep ; but now,
it must be pleased, that it may be serviceable.
Now, when sleep is rather driven away than leaves me, I would
ever awake with God. My first thoughts are for him, who hath
made the night for rest and the day for travel ; and, as he gives,
so blesses both. If my heart be early seasoned with his presence,
it will savour of him all day after. •>
While my body is dressing, not with an effeminate curiosity,
nor yet with rude neglect, my mind addresses itself to her ensuing
task ; bethinking what is to be done, and in what order ; and
marshalling, as it may, my hours with my work.
That done, after some while meditation, I walk up to my
masters and companions, my books ; and, sitting down amongst
them, with the best contentment, I dare not reach forth my hand
to salute any of them till I have first looked up to heaven,
" [See Dedication to vol, I. b. iii.]

Epist. I.] Practical Works. 281
and craved favour of Him to whom all my studies are duly re
ferred; without whom, 1 can neither profit nor labour. > After
this, out of no over-great variety, I call forth those which may
best fit my occasions ; wherein I am not too scrupulous of age ;
sometimes, I put myself to school to one of those ancients whom
the Church hath honoured with the name of Fathers ; whose
volumes, I confess not to open, without a secret reverence of their
holiness and gravity : sometimes, to those later doctors which
want nothing but age to make them classical : always, to God's
Book. That day is lost, whereof some hours are not improved in
those divine monuments : others, I turn over out of choice ; these,
out of duty.
Ere I can have sat unto weariness, my family, having now over
come all household distractions, invites me to our common devo
tions : not without some short preparation.
These, heartily performed, send me up with a more strong and
cheerful appetite to my former work, which I find made easy to
me by intermission and variety.
Now therefore can I deceive the hours with change of pleasures,
that is, of labours. One while, mine eyes are busied ; another
while, my hand ; and sometimes my mind takes the burden from
them both : wherein I would imitate the skilfullest cooks, which
make the best dishes with manifold mixtures. One hour is spent
in textual divinity ; another, in controversy : histories relieve them
both. Now, when the mind is weary of others' labours, it begins
to undertake her own : sometimes, it meditates and winds up for
future use ; sometimes, it lays forth her conceits into present dis
course ; sometimes for itself, ofter for others. Neither know I,
whether it works or plays in these thoughts : I am sure no sport
hath more pleasure ; no work more use : only the decay of a
weak body makes me think these delights insensibly laborious.
Thus could I, all day, as ringers use, make myself music with
changes ; and complain sooner of the day for shortness, than of
the business for toil ; were it not that this faint monitor interrupts
me still in the midst of my busy pleasures, and enforces me both
to respite and repast. I must yield to both : while my body and
mind are joined together in these unequal couples, the better must
follow the weaker.
Before my meals, therefore, and after, I let myself loose from
all thoughts ; and now, would forget that I ever studied. A full
mind takes away the body's appetite, no less than a full body

282 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
makes a dull and unwieldy mind. Company, discourse, recrea
tions, are now seasonable and welcome.
These prepare me for a diet ; not gluttonous, but medicinal :
the palate may not be pleased, but the stomach ; nor that, for its
own sake. Neither would I think any of these comforts worth
respect, in themselves ; but in their use, in their end : so far as
they may enable me to better things. If I see any dish to tempt
my palate, I fear a serpent in that apple ; and would please my
self in a wilful denial.
I rise capable of more, not desirous ; not now immediately from
my trencher to my book, but after some intermission. Moderate
speed is a sure help to all proceedings, where those things which
are prosecuted with violence of endeavour or desire either succeed
not or continue not.
After my latter meal, my thoughts are slight ; only my memory
may be charged with her task, of recalling what was committed
to her custody in the day ; and my heart is busy in examining
my hands, and mouth and all other senses, of that day's be
haviour. And now the evening is come, no tradesman doth more care
fully take in his wares, clear his shopboard, and shut his windows,
than I would shut up my thoughts and clear my mind. That
student shall live miserably, which, hke a camel, lies down under
his burden. All this done, calling together my family, we end
the day with God. Thus do we rather drive away the time
before us, than follow it.
I grant, neither is my practice worthy to be exemplary, neither
are our callings proportionable. The lives of a nobleman, of a
courtier, of a scholar, of a citizen, of a countryman, differ no less
then their dispositions; yet must all conspire in honest labour.
Sweat is the destiny of all trades, whether of the brows or of the
mind. God never allowed any man to do nothing. How mise
rable is the condition of those men which spend the time as
if it were given them, and not lent ! as if hours were waste
creatures, and such as should never be accounted for ! as if God
would take this for a good bill of reckoning ; " Item, spent upon my
pleasures, forty years." These men shall once find, that no blood
can privilege idleness ; and that nothing is more precious to God
than that which they desire to cast away — time.
Such are my common days. But God's day calls for another
respect. The same sun arises on this day, and enlightens it ;

Epist. II. Practical Works. 283
yet, because that Sun of Righteousness arose upon it, and gave
a new life unto the world in it, and drew the strength of God's
moral precept unto it, therefore justly do we sing with the
Psalmist, This is the day which the Lord hath made. Now I
forget the world, and in a sort myself ; and deal with my wonted
thoughts, as great men use, who, at some times of their privacy,
forbid the access of all suitors. Prayer, meditation, reading, hear
ing, preaching, singing, good conference, are the businesses of
this day ; which I dare not bestow on any work or pleasure but
heavenly. I hate superstition on the one side, and looseness on
the other : but I find it hard to offend in too much devotion ;
easy, in profaneness. The whole week is asanctified by this day ;
and, according to my care of this, is my blessing on the rest.
I show your lordship what I would do, and what I ought : I
commit my desires to the imitation of the weak ; my actions to
the censures of the wise and holy ; my weaknesses, to the pardon
and redress of my merciful God.

TO MR. T. S.
DEDICATED TO SIR FULKE GREVILLb.
Epistle II. — Discoursing how we may use the world without
danger.
How to live out of the danger of the world is both a great
and good care, and that which troubles too few. Some, that the
world may not hurt them, run from it, and banish themselves to
the tops of solitary mountains; changing the cities for deserts,
houses for caves, and the society of men for beasts ; and, lest
their enemy might insinuate himself into their secresy, have
abridged themselves of diet, clothing, lodging, harbour, fit for
reasonable creatures ; seeming to have left off themselves no less
than companions. As if the world were not every where : as if
we could hide ourselves from the devil; as if solitariness were
privileged from temptations ; as if we did not more violently affect
restrained delights ; as if these Jeromes did not find Rome in
their heart, when they had nothing but rocks and trees in their
eye. Hence these places of retiredness, founded at first upon
necessity mixed with devotion, have proved infamously unclean ;
cells of lust, not of piety. b [The first lord Brooke.]

284 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
This course is preposterous. If I were worthy to teach you a
better way, learn to be an hermit at home. Begin with your own
heart ; estrange and wean it from the love, not from the use of
the world. Christianity hath taught us nothing, if we have not
learned this distinction.
It is a great weakness, not to see, but we must be enamoured.
Elisha saw the secret state of the Syrian court, yet as an enemy :
the blessed angels see our earthly affairs, but as strangers :
Moses's body was in the court of Pharaoh, amongst the deli
cate Egyptians ; his heart was suffering with the afflicted Is
raelites : Lot took part of the fair meadows of Sodom ; not of
their sins : our blessed Saviour saw the glory of all kingdoms,
and contemned them : and cannot the world look upon us Christ
ians, but we are bewitched ? We see the sun daily, and warm us
at his beams, yet make not an idol of it : doth any man hide his
face, lest he should adore it ?
All our safety or danger, therefore, is from within. In vain is
the body an anchorite if the heart be a ruffian ; and if that be
retired in affections, the body is but a cipher. Lo, then the eyes
will look carelessly and strangely on what they see, and the
tongue will sometimes answer to that was not asked. We eat
and recreate, because we must, not because we would ; and when
we are pleased, we are suspicious. Lawful delights we neither
refuse nor dote upon, and all contentments go and come like
strangers. That all this may be done, take up your heart with better
thoughts. Be sure it will not be empty ; if heaven have foot-
stalled all the rooms, the world is disappointed, and either dares
not offer or is repulsed. Fix yourself upon the glory of that
eternity which abides you after this short pilgrimage. You can
not but contemn what you find in comparison of what you ex
pect. Leave not till you attain to this, that you are willing to
live because you cannot as yet be dissolved. Be but one half
upon earth : let your better part converse above, whence it is,
and enjoy that whereto it was ordained. Think how little the
world can do for you ; and what it doth, how deceitfully : what
stings there are with this honey ; what farewell succeeds this
welcome. When this Jael brings you milk in the one hand,
know she hath a nail in the other. Ask your heart what it is the
better, what the merrier, for all those pleasures wherewith it
hath befriended you : let your own trial teach you contempt.

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 285
Think how sincere, how glorious those joys are, which abide you
elsewhere; and a thousand times more certain, though future,
than the present.
And let not these thoughts be flying, but fixed. In vain do
we meditate, if we resolve not. When your heart is once thus
settled, it shall command all things to advantage. The world
shall not betray, but serve it ; and that shall be fulfilled which
God promises by his Solomon ; When the ways of a man please
the Lord, he ivill make his enemies also at peace with him.
Sir, this advice my poverty afforded long since to a weak
friend. I write it not to you any otherwise than as scholars are
wont to say their part to their masters. The world hath long
and justly both noted and honoured you for eminence in wisdom
and learning, and I above the most. I am ready, with the awe
of a learner, to embrace all precepts from you : you shall expect
nothing from me but testimonies of respect and thankfulness.

TO SIR GEORGE FLEETWOOD^.
Epistle III. — Of the remedies of sin, and motives to avoid it.
There is none either more common or more troublesome guest
than sin : troublesome, both in the solicitation of it and in the
remorse. Before the act, it wearies us with a wicked importunity ;
after the act, it torments us with fears, and the painful gnawings
of an accusing conscience.
Neither is it more irksome to men than odious to God ; who
indeed never hated any thing but it, and for it, any thing.
How happy were we if we could be rid of it ! This must be
our desire, but cannot be our hope, so long as we carry this body
of sin and death about us : yet, which is our comfort, it shall not
carry us, though we carry it : it will dwell with us, but with no
command ; yea, with no peace : we grudge to give it houseroom ;
but we hate to give it service. This our Hagar will abide many
strokes ere she be turned out of doors : she shall go at last ; and
the seed of promise shall inherit alone.
There is no unquietness good but this ; and in this case quiet
ness cannot stand with safety : neither did ever war more truly
c [Of Chalfont : married a sister of sir H. Denny, created earl of Norwich.]

286 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
beget peace than in this strife of the soul. Resistance is the way
to victory, and that to an eternal peace and happiness.
It is a blessed care then how to resist sin, how to avoid it ; and
such as I am glad to teach and learn.
As there are two grounds of all sin, so of the avoidance of sin —
love and fear : these, if they be placed amiss, cause us to offend ;
if right, are the remedies of evil. The love must be of God;
fear, of judgment.
As he loves much to whom much is forgiven, so he that loves
much will not dare to do that which may need forgiveness. The
heart that hath felt the sweetness of God's mercies will not abide
the bitter relish of sin. This is both a stronger motive than fear,
and more noble. None but a good heart is capable of this grace ;
which whoso hath received thus powerfully repels temptations:
" Have I found my God so gracious to me, that he hath denied
me nothing, either in earth or heaven ; and shall not I so much
as deny my own will for his sake ? Hath my dear Saviour bought
my soul at such a price, and shall he not have it ? Was he cruci
fied for my sins, and shall I by my sins crucify him again ? Am
I his in so many bonds, and shall I serve the devil ? 0 God !
is this the fruit of thy beneficence to me, that I should wilfully
dishonour thee? Was thy blood so little worth, that I should
tread it under my feet 1 Doth this become him that shall be
once glorious with thee ? Hast thou prepared heaven for me,
and do I thus prepare myself for heaven ? Shall I thus recom
pense thy love, in doing that which thou hatest?" Satan hath no
dart, I speak confidently, that can pierce this shield. Christians
are indeed too oft surprised ere they can hold it out : there is
no small policy in the suddenness of temptation : but if they have
once settled it before their breast, they are safe, and their enemy
hopeless. Under this head, therefore, there is sure remedy
against sin, by looking upwards, backwards, into ourselves, for
wards : upwards, at the glorious majesty and infinite goodness of
that God whom our sin would offend, and in whose face we sin ;
whose mercies, and whose holiness is such, that if there were no
hell, we would not offend : backwards, at the manifold favours
whereby we are obliged to obedience : into ourselves, at that'
honourable vocation wherewith he hath graced us ; that holy
profession we have made of his calling and grace ; that solemn
vow and covenant whereby we have confirmed our profession;
the gracious beginnings of that Spirit in us, which is grieved by

Epist. III.] Practical Works. 287
our sins, yea, quenched : forwards, at the joy which will follow
upon our forbearance ; that peace of conscience, that happy ex
pectation of glory, compared with the momentary and unpleasing
delight of a present sin. All these out of love.
Fear is a retentive, as necessary, not so ingenuous. It is better
to be won than to be frighted from sin; to be allured than
drawn : both are little enough in our proneness to evil. Evil is
the only object of fear. Herein, therefore, we must terrify our
stubbornness with both evils — of loss and of sense ; that, if it be
possible, the horror of the event may countervail the pleasure of
the temptation : of loss ; remembering, that now we are about to
lose a God ; to cast away all the comforts and hopes of another
world ; to rob ourselves of all those sweet mercies we enjoyed ; to
thrust his Spirit out of doors, which cannot abide to dwell within
the noisome stench of sin ; to shut the doors of heaven against
ourselves : of sense ; that thus we give Satan a right in us, power
over us, advantage against us ; that we make God to frown upon
us in heaven ; that we arm all his good creatures against us on
earth ; that we do, as it were, take God's hand in ours, and
scourge ourselves with all temporal plagues, and force his curses
upon us and ours ; that we wound our own consciences with sins,
that they may wound us with everlasting torments ; that we do
both make a hell in our breasts beforehand, and open the gates
of that bottomless pit to receive us afterwards ; that we do now
cast brimstone into the fire ; and, lest we should fail of tortures,
make ourselves our own fiends. These, and whatever other ter
rors of this kind, must be laid to the soul ; which if they be
throughly urged to an heart not altogether incredulous, well may
a man ask himself how he dare sin.
But if neither this sun of mercies nor the tempestuous winds
of judgment can make hira cast off Peter's cloak of wickedness,
he must be clad with confusion as with a cloak, according to the
Psalmist. I tremble to think how many live as if they were neither be
holden to God nor afraid of him ; neither in his debt nor danger :
as if their heaven and hell were both upon earth : sinning, not
only without shame, but not without malice. It is their least ill
to do evil : behold, they speak for it, joy in it, boast of it, enforce
to it ; as if they would send challenges into heaven and make
love to destruction. Tbeir lewdness calls for our sorrow and
zealous obedience ; that our God may have as true servants as

288 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
enemies. And as we see natural qualities increased with the
resistance of their contraries, so must our grace, with others' sins :
we shall redeem somewhat of God's dishonour by sin if we shall
thence grow holy.

TO DOCTOR MILBURNEd.
Epistle IV. — Discoursing hoiu far and wherein popery de-
stroyeth the foundation.
The mean in all things is not more safe than hard, whether
to find or keep. And as in all other morality it lieth in a
narrow room, so most in the matter of our censure, especially
concerning religion ; wherein we are wont to be either careless
or too peremptory.
How far and wherein popery razeth the foundation is worth
our inquiry. I need not stay upon words. By foundation, we
mean, the necessary grounds of Christian faith.
This foundation papistry defaces, by laying a new, by casting
down the old.
In these cases, addition destroys: he that obtrudes a new word
no less overthrows the scripture than he that denies the old.
Yea, this very obtrusion denies : he that sets up a new Christ
rejects Christ. Two foundations cannot stand at once, the Ark
and Dagon : now papistry lays a double new foundation : the
one, a new rule of faith, that is, a new word ; the other, a new
author or guide of faith, that is, a new head besides Christ. God
never laid other foundation than in the prophets and apostles :
upon their divine writing he meant to build his church ; which he
therefore inspired, that they might be, like himself, perfect and
eternal. Popery builds upon an unwritten word, the voice of old
but doubtful traditions ; tho voice of the present church, that
is, as they interpret it, theirs ; with no less confidence and pre
sumption of certainty, than any thing ever written by the finger
of God. If this be not a new foundation, the old was none. God
never taught this holy spouse to know any other husband than
Christ; to acknowledge any other head, to follow any other
shepherd, to obey any other king : he alone may be enjoyed
without jealousy; submitted to without danger; without error
d [Dean of Rochester, and afterwards successively bishop of St. David's and
Carlisle. Died 1624.]

Epist. IV.] Practical Works. 289
believed ; served without scruple. Popery offers to impose on
God's Church a king, shepherd, head, husband, besides her own ;
a man, a man of sin. He must know all things, can err in nothing ;
direct, inform, animate, command, both in earth and purgatory ;
expound scriptures, canonize saints, forgive sins, create new arti
cles of faith ; and in all these is absolute and infallible as his
Maker. Who sees not, that if to attribute these things to the
Son of God be to make him the foundation of the Church, then
to ascribe them to another is to contradict him that said, Other
foundation can no man lay than that which is laid, which is
Jesus Christ. To lay a new foundation doth necessarily subvert
the old : yet see this further actually done in particulars ; wherein
yet this distinction may clear the way.
The foundation is overthrown two ways :- either in flat terms,
when a main principle of faith is absolutely denied ; as, the deity
and consubstantiality of the Son, by Arius ; the trinity of persons,
by Sabellius and Servetus ; the resurrection of the body, by Hy
menals and Philetus ; the last judgment, by St. Peter's mockers :
or, secondly, by consequent, when any opinion is maintained which
by just sequel overturneth the truth of that principle which the
defendant professes to hold ; yet so, as he will not grant the
necessity of that deduction ; so the ancient Mina3i, of whom Jerome
speaketh, while they urged circumcision, by consequent, according
to Paul's rule, rejected Christ ; so the Pelagians, while they de
fended a full perfection of our righteousness in ourselves, overthrew
Christ's justification, and in effect said, " I believe in Christ, and
in myself;" so some ubiquitaries, while they hold the possibility
of conversion and salvation of reprobates, overthrow the doctrine
of God's eternal decree and immutability.
Popery comes in this latter rank, and may justly be termed
heresy by direct consequent ; though not in their grant, yet in
necessary proof and inference.
Thus it overthrows the truth of Christs's humanity, while it
holds his whole human body locally circumscribed in heaven, and
at once, the same instant, wholly present in ten thousand places
on earth, without circumscription ; that whole Christ is in the
forms of bread, with all his dimensions, every part having his own
place and figure, and yet so, as that he is wholly in every part
of the bread: our justification; while it ascribes it to our own
works : the all-sufficiency of Christ's own sacrifice ; while they
reiterate it daily by the hands of a priest : of his satisfaction ;
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. U

290 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
while they hold a payment of our utmost farthings in a devised
purgatory : of his mediation ; while they implore others to aid
them, not only by their intercession, but their merits ; suing, not
only for their prayers, but their gifts : the value of the scriptures ;
while they hold them insufficient, obscure, in points essential to
salvation, and bind them to an uncertain dependence upon the
Church. Besides hundreds of this kind, there are heresies in actions,
contrary to those fundamental practices which God requires of
his : as, prohibitions of scriptures to the laity ; prescriptions of
devotion in unknown tongues ; tying the effect of sacraments and
prayers to the external work ; adoration of angels, saints, bread,
relics, crosses, images : all which are so many real underminings
ofthe sacred foundation, which is no less active than vocal.
By this, the simplest may see what we must hold of papists ;
neither as no heretics, nor yet so palpable as the worst. If any
man ask for their conviction : in the simpler sort, I grant this
excuse fair and tolerable ; poor souls, they cannot be any other
wise informed, much less persuaded. While, in truth of heart,
they hold the main principles which they know ; doubtless, the
mercy of God may pass over their ignorant weakness in what
they cannot know. For the other, I fear not to say, that many
of their errors are wilful : the light of truth hath shined out of
heaven to them, and they love darkness more than hght.
In this state of the Church, he shall speak and hope idly that
shall call for a public and universal eviction. How can that be,
when they pretend to be judges in their own cause ? Unless they
will not be adversaries to themselves, or judge of us, this course
is but impossible. As the devil, so antichrist, will not yield : both
shall be subdued ; neither will treat of peace. What remains,
hut that the Lord shall consume that wicked man, which is now
clearly revealed, with the breath of his mouth, and abolish him
with the brightness of his coming ? Even so, Lord Jesus, come
quickly. This, briefly, is my conceit of popery ; which I willingly refer
to your clear and deep judgment : being not more desirous to teach
the ignorant what I know, than to learn of you what I should teach,
and know not. The Lord direct all our thoughts to his glory
and the behoof of his Church.

Epist. V.] Practical Works. 291
WRITTEN LONG SINCE TO MR. J. W.
Epistle V. — Dissuading from separation, and shortly oppugn
ing the grounds qf that error.
In my former Epistlee I confess I touched the late separation
with a light hand, only setting down the injury of it at the best,
not discussing the grounds in common. Now, your danger draws
me on to this discourse. It is not much less thankworthy to pre
vent a disease than to cure it.
You confess that you doubt ; I mislike it not : doubting is not
more the way to error than to satisfaction : lay down first all
pride and prejudice, and I cannot fear you. I never yet knew
any man of this way which hath not bewrayed himself far gone
with overweening ; and therefore it hath been just with God to
punish their self-love with error. An humble spirit is a fit subject
for truth : prepare you your heart, and let me then answer, or
rather, God for me.
You doubt whether the notorious sin of one unreformed, un-
censured, defile not the whole congregation ; so as we may not,
without sin, communicate therewith. And why not the whole
Church ? Woe were us, if we should thus live in the danger of all
men : have we not sins enow of our own but we must borrow of
others ? Each man shall bear his own burden : is ours so light
that we call for more weight, and undertake what God never
imposed? It was enough for Him that is God and man to bear
others' iniquities: it is no task for us, which shrink under the
least of our own.
But it is made ours, you say, though another's, by our toleration
and connivance. Indeed, if we consent to them, encourage them,
imitate or accompany them, in the same excess of riot ; yet more,
the public person that forbears a known sin, sinneth ; but if each
man's known sin be every man's, what difference is betwixt the
root and the branches ? Adam's sin spread itself to us, because
we were in him ; stood or fell in him : our case is not such. Do
but see how God scorneth that unjust proverb ofthe Jews, That
the fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are
set on edge. How much less are strangers' ! Is any bond so near
as this of blood ? Shall not the child smart for the parent ? and
shall we, even spiritually, for others ?
e See Decade III. Epistle I.— Pratt.
U 2

292 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
You object Achan's stealth and Israel's punishment ; an unlike
case, and extraordinary : for see how direct God's charge is ; Be
ye ware of the execrable thing, lest ye make yourselves exe
crable; and in taking of the execrable thing make also the host
qf Israel execrable, and trouble it. Now, every man is made a
party by a peculiar injunction : and not only all Israel is as one
man, but every Israelite is a pubhc person in this act. You can
not show the like in every one ; no, not in any : it was a law for
the present, not intended for perpetuity : you may as well chal
lenge the trumpets of rams' horns and seven days' walk unto
every siege.
Look elsewhere. The church of Thyatira suffers the woman
Jezebel to teach and deceive ; a great sin : Yet to you, saith the
Spirit, the rest in Thyatira, as many as have not this learning,
I will put upon you none other burden ; but that which you
have holdfast* : he saith not, " Leave your church ;" but, Hold
fast your own. Look into the practice of the prophets, ransack
their burdens, and see if you find this there. Yea, behold our
best pattern, the Son of God : the Jewish rulers in Christ's time
were notoriously covetous, proud, oppressing, cruel, superstitious :
our Saviour feared not polluting in joining with them ; and was
so far from separating himself, that he called and sent others to
them. " But, a little leaven leavens the whole lump." It is true ;
by the infection of it, sin, where it is unpunished, spreadeth : it
soureth all those whose hands are in it ; not others. If we dis
like it, detest, desist, reprove, and mourn for it, we cannot be
tainted. The Corinthian love-feasts had gross and sinful disor
der : yet you hear not Paul say, " Abstain from the sacrament
till these be reformed:" rather, he enjoins the act, and controls
the abuse. God hath bidden you hear and receive : show me
where he hath said, except others be sinful. Their uncleanness
can no more defile you than your holiness can excuse them.
"But, while I communicate," you say, "I consent." God
forbid. It is sin, not to cast out the deserving ; but not yours :
who made you a ruler and a judge ? The unclean must be se
parated, not by the people. Would you have no distinction be
twixt private and public persons? What strange confusion is
this ! And what other than the old note of Korah and his com-
f [Rev. ii. 25.]

Epist. V.] Practical Works. 293
pany; Ye take too much upon you, seeing all the congregation
is holy, every one of them, and the Lord is among them : where
fore then lift ye up yourselves above the congregation of the
Lord. What is, if this be not, to make a monster of Christ's
body? He is the head.; his Church the body, consisting of
divers limbs. All have their several faculties and employments ;
not every one, all. Who would imagine any man so absurd as
to say that this body should be all tongue or all hands ; every
man a teacher, every man a ruler ? as if Christ had said to every
man, Go teach, and whose sins ye remit. How senseless are
these two extremes ; of the papists, that one man hath the keys ;
of the Brownists, that every man hath them !
" But these privileges and charges are given to the Church."
True ; to be executed by her governors. The faculty of speech
is given to the whole man ; but the use of it, to the proper in
strument. Man speaketh, but by his tongue : if a voice should
be heard from his hand, ear, foot, it were unnatural. Now, if
the tongue speak not when it ought, shall we be so foolish as to
blame the hand ?
But you say ; " If the tongue speak not, or speak ill, the whole
man smarteth ; the man sinneth." I grant it ; but you shall set
the natural body on too hard a rack if you strain it in all things
to the likeness of the spiritual or civil. The members of that,
being quickened by the same soul, have charge of each other ;
and therefore either stand or fall together. It is notso in
these. If then, notwithstanding unpunished sins, we may join with the
true Church, whether is ours such ? You doubt ; and your solici
tors deny : surely, if we have many enormities, yet none worse
than rash and cruel judgment : let them make this a colour to de
part from themselves : there is no less woe to them that call good
evil. To 'judge one man is bold and dangerous : judge then what
it is to condemn a whole Church ; God knows, as much without
cause as without shame. Vain men may libel against the Spouse
of Christ : her husband never divorced her : no, his love is still
above their hatred ; his blessings above their censures. Do but
ask them, Were we ever the true Church of God ? If they deny
it, who then were so ? Had God never Church upon earth since
the apostles' time till Barrow and Greenwoods arose? and even
s [H. Barrow and J. Greenwood, pamphlets, 1602. See Fuller's Ch. Hist,
hanged at Tyburn for writing seditious book x. § 12.]

294 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
then scarce a number. Nay, when or where was ever any man
in the world, except in the schools perhaps of Donatus or Nova
tes, that taught their doctrine ; and now still hath he none, but
in a blind lane at Amsterdam ? Can you think this probable ? If
they affirm it, when ceased we ? Are not the points controverted
still the same ? the same government, the same doctrine ? Their
minds are changed, not our estate. Who hath admonished,
evinced, excommunicated us ; and when ? All these must be done.
Will it not be a shame to say, that Francis Johnson, as he took
power to excommunicate his brother and father, so had power to
excommunicate his mother the Church ? How base and idle are
these conceits ! Are we then heretics, condemned in ourselves ?
Wherein overthrow we the foundation ? what other God, Saviour,
scriptures, justification, sacraments, heaven, do they teach, be
sides us? Can all the masters of separation, yea can all the
churches in Christendom, set forth a more exquisite and worthy
confession of faith than is contained in the Articles of the Church
of England ? Who can hold these, and be heretical ? or, from
which of these are we revolted? But to make this good, they
have taught you to say, that every truth in scripture is funda
mental : so fruitful is error of absurdities ; whereof still one
breeds another more deformed than itself. That Trophimus was
left at Miletum sick ; that Paul's cloke was left at Troas ; that
Gaius, Paul's host, saluted the Romans ; that Nabal was drunk ;
or, that Tamar baked cakes; and a thousand of this nature, are
fundamental! how large is the separatist's creed that hath all
these articles ! If they say, all scripture is of the same author,
of the same authority ; so say we ; but not of the same use. Is
it as necessary for a Christian to know that Peter hosted with one
Simon a tanner in Joppa, as that Jesus Christ, the Son of God,
was born of the Virgin Mary? What a monster is this of an
opinion, that all truths are equal ! that this spiritual house should
be all foundation ; no walls, no roof ! Can no man be saved, but
he that knows everything in scripture ? then, both they and we
are excluded; heaven would not have so many as their parlour
at Amsterdam. Can any man be saved that knows nothing in
scripture ? It is far from them to be so overcharitable to affirm
it. You see then, that both all truths must not of necessity be
known, and some must ; and these we justly call fundamental :
which whoso holdeth, all his hay and stubble, through the mercy
of God, condemn him not : still he hath right to the church on

Epist. V.] Practical Works. 295
earth, and hope in heaven. "But, whether every truth be fun
damental or necessary, discipline," you say, " is so :" indeed ne
cessary .to the well-being of a Church ; no more : it may be true
without it, not perfect. Christ compares his spouse to an army with
banners : as order is to an army, so is discipline to the Church : if
the troops be not well marshalled in their several ranks, and move
not forward according to the discipline of war, it is an army still :
confusion may hinder their success ; it cannot bereave them of
their name. It is as beautiful proportion to the body ; an hedge,
to a vineyard; a wall, to a city; an hem, to a garment ; ceiling, to
an house : it may be a body, vineyard, city, garment, house, with
out them : it cannot be well and perfect. Yet, which of our ad
versaries will say we have no discipline ? Some they grant ; but
not the right : as if they said ; " Your city hath a brick wall in
deed ; but it should have one of hewn stone : your vineyard is
hedged ; but it should be paled and ditched." While they cavil
at what we want, we thank God for what we have ; and so much
we have, in spite of all detraction, as makes us both a true Church
and a worthy one.
But the main quarrel is against our ministry and form of wor
ship : let these be examined.
This is the circle of their censure. " No church, therefore no
ministry ; and no ministry, therefore no church :" unnatural sons,
that spit in the face of those spiritual fathers that begot them,
and the mother that bore them ! What would they have ? Have
we not competent gifts from above for so great a function ? Are
we all unlearned, unsufficient ? not a man that knows to divide the
word aright ? As Paul to the Corinthians, Is it so, that there is not
one wise man amongst us ? No man will affirm it : some of them
have censured our excess in some knowledge ; none, our defect in
all. What then ? have we not a true desire to do faithful service
to God and his Church ? no zeal for God's glory ? Who hath been
in our hearts to see this ? who dare usurp upon God and condemn
our thoughts ? Yea, we appeal to that only Judge of hearts, whe
ther he hath not given us a sincere longing for the good of his
Sion; he shall make the thoughts of all hearts manifest; and
then shall every man have praise of God. If then we have both
ability and will to do public good, our inward calling, which is
the main point, is good and perfect. For the outward, what want
we ? Are we not, first, after good trial, presented and approved by

296 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
the learned in our colleges ; examined by our church-governors ;
ordained by imposition of hands of the eldership ; allowed by the
congregations we are set over? do we not labour in word and
doctrine? do we not carefully administer the sacraments of the
Lord Jesus ? have we not, by our public means, won many souls
to God ? what should we have and do more ? All this, and yet no
true ministers ? We pass very little to be judged of them or of
man's dayh. But our ordainers, you say, are antichristian ; surely
our censurers are unchristian. Though we should grant it, some
of us were baptized by heretics, is the sacrament annihilated, and
must it be redoubled ? how much less ordination, which is but an
outward admission to preach the gospel ! God forbid that we should
thus condemn the innocent: more hands were laid upon us than one;
and, of them, for the principal, except but their perpetual honour
and some few immaterial rites, let an enemy say what they differ
from superintendents : and can their double honour make them
no elders ? If they have any personal faults, why is their calling
scourged ? Look into our Saviour's times ; what corruptions were
in the very priesthood ! It was now made annual which was be
fore fixed and singular. Christ saw these abuses, and was silent :
here was much dislike and no clamour : we, for less, exclaim and
separate : even personal offences are fetched in to the condemna
tion of lawful courses. God give both pardon and redress to this
foul uncharitableness. Alas ! how ready are we to toss the fore
part of our wallet, while our own faults are ready to break our
necks behind us : all the world sees and condemns their ordination
to be faulty, yea, none at all ; yet they cry out first on us, craftily,
I think, lest we should complain. That church-governors should
ordain ministers hath been the constant practice of the Church
from Christ's time to this hour. I except only in an extreme de
solation merely for the first course. That the people should make
their ministers was unheard of in all ages and churches, till Bolton,
Brown, and Barrow, and hath neither colour nor example. Doth
not this comparison seem strange and harsh ? their tradesmen
may make true ministers, our ministers cannot : who but they
would not be ashamed of such a position ? or who but you would
not think the time mispent in answering it ?
No less frivolous are those exceptions that are taken against
our worship of God, condemned for false and idolatrous ; whereof
ll [fj fnrh a,v6puirlvns yp^'as. t Cor. iv. 3.]

Epist. V.] Practical Works. 297
volumes of apologies are written by others. We meet together,
pray, read, hear, preach, sing, administer and receive sacra
ments ; wherein offend we ? How many gods do we pray to ? or
to whom, but the true God ? in what words, but holy ? whom do
we preach, but the same Christ with them ? what point of faith
not theirs? what sacraments but those they dare not but allow?
where lies our idolatry, that we may let it out ?
"In the manner of performing; in set prayers, antichristian
ceremonies of crossing, kneeling, &c."
For the former : what sin is this ? The original and truth of
prayer is in the heart ; the voice is but as accidental. If the heart
may often conceive the same thought, the tongue her servant may
often utter it in the same words ; and if daily to repeat the same
speeches be amiss, then to entertain the same spiritual desires
is sinful. To speak once without the heart is hypocritical, but
to speak often the same request with the heart never offendeth.
What intolerable boldness is this, to condemn that in us which is
recorded to have been the continual practice of God's Church in
all succession ! of the Jews, in the time of Moses, David, Solomon,
Jehosaphat, Hezekiah, Jeremiah : of the ancient Christian assem
blies, both Greek and Latin ; and now, at this day, of all reformed
churches in Christendom ; yea, which our Saviour himself so di
rectly allowed, and in a manner prescribed ; and the blessed
apostles, Paul and Peter, in all their formal salutations, which
were no other than set prayers so commonly practised.
For the other, lest I exceed a letter, though we yield them
such as you imagine, worse they cannot be, they are but ceremo
nious appendances ; the body and substance is sound. Blessed be
God, that we can have his true sacraments at so easy a rate ; at
the payment, if they were such, of a few circumstantial inconveni
ences. How many dear children of God, in all ages, even near
the golden times of the apostles, have gladly purchased them much
dearer, and not complained ! But see how our Church imposes
them ; not as to bind the conscience otherwise than by the common
bond of obedience ; not as actions wherein God's worship essen
tially consisteth ; but as themselves, ceremonies : comely or conve
nient, not necessary. Whatsoever : is this a sufficient ground of
separation ? How many moderate and wiser spirits have we that
cannot approve the ceremonies, yet dare not forsake the Church,
and that hold your departure far more evil than the cause ! You
arc invited to a feast; if but a napkin or trencher be misplaced,

298 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
or a dish ill carved, do you run from the table, and not stay to
thank the host ? Either be less curious or more charitable. Would
God both you and all other, which either favour the separation
or profess it, could but read over the ancient stories of the Church,
to see the true state of things and times ; the beginnings, pro
ceedings, increases, encounters, yieldings, restorations of the gos
pel ; what the holy Fathers of those first times were glad to swallow
for peace; what they held, practised, found, left. Whosoever
knows but these things cannot separate, and shall not be contented
only, but thankful. God shall give you still more hght : in the
mean time, upon the peril of my soul, stay, and take the blessed
offers of your God in peace. And since Christ saith by my hand,
Will you also go aivay ? Answer him with that worthy disciple,
Master, whither shall I go from thee ? thou hast the words of
eternal life.
TO MR. I. B.
Epistle VI. — A complaint of the miseducation qf our gentry.
I confess, I cannot honour blood without good qualities, nor
spare it with ill. There is nothing that I more desire to be taught,
than what is true nobility.
What thank is it to you that you are born well? If you could
have lost this privilege of nature, I fear you had not been thus
far noble. That you may not plead desert, you had this before
you were, long ere you could either know or prevent it. You
are deceived, if you think this any other than the body of gentility ;
the life and soul of it is in noble and virtuous disposition; in gal-
lantness of spirit, without haughtiness, without insolence, without
scornful overliness ; shortly, in generous qualities, carriage, actions.
See your error, and know that this demeanour doth not answer
an honest birth. If you can follow all fashions, drink all healths,
wear favours and good clothes, consort with ruffianly companions,
swear the biggest oaths, quarrel easily, fight desperately, game in
every inordinate ordinary, spend your patrimony ere it fall, look
on every man betwixt scorn and anger, use gracefully some gest
ures of apish compliment, talk irreligiously, dally with a mistress,
or, which term is plainer, hunt after harlots, take smoke at a
playhouse, and live as if you were made all for sport, you think
you have done enough to merit both of your blood and others'
opinions. Certainly, the world hath no baseness, if this be generosity :

Epist. VI.] Practical Works. 299
well fare the honest and civil rudeness of the obscure sons ofthe
earth, if such be the graces of the eminent : the shame whereof,
methinks, is not so proper to the wildness of youth, as to the care
lessness or vanity of parents.
I speak it boldly ; our land hath no blemish comparable to the
miseducation of our gentry. Infancy and youth are the seedtimes
of all hopes : if those pass unseasonably, no fruit can be expected
from our age but shame and sorrow : who should improve these,
but they which may command them ?
I cannot altogether complain of our first years. How like are we
to children in the training up of our children ! Give a child some
painted babe ; he joys in it at first sight, and for some days will
not abide it out of his hand or bosom ; but when he hath sated
himself with the new pleasure of that guest, he now, after a while,
casts it into corners, forgets it, and can look upon it with no care.
Thus do we by ours. Their first times find us not more fond
than careful : we do not more follow them with our love, than ply
them with instruction : when this delight begins to grow stale, we
begin to grow negligent.
Nothing, that I know, can be faulted in the ordering of child
hood, but indulgence. Foolish mothers admit of tutors, but debar
rods. These, while they desire their children may learn, but not
smart, as is said of apes, kill their young ones with love; for
what can work upon that age, but fear ? and what fear, without
correction ?
Now, at last, with what measure of learning their own will
would vouchsafe to receive, they are too early sent to the common
nurseries of knowledge. There, unless they fall under careful
tuition, they study in jest and play in earnest. In such universal
means of learning, all cannot fall beside them. What their
company, what their recreation would either instil or permit,
they bring home to their glad parents.
Thence are they transplanted to the collegiate inns of our
common laws : and there, too many learn to be lawless, and to
forget their former little. Paul's is their Westminster ; their
study, an ordinary, or playhouse, or dancing-school ; and some
Lambert, their Ploy don1.
And now, after they have, not without much expense, learned
fashions and licentiousness, they return home, full of welcomes and
gratulations. ' [Edm. Ploydon or Plowden, the well-known author of several legal works.]

300 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
By this time, some blossoms of youth appearing in their face ad
monish their parents to seek them some seasonable match; wherein
the father inquires for wealth ; the son, for beauty ; perhaps the
mother, for parentage ; scarce any, for virtue, for religion.
Thus settled, what is their care, their discourse, yea, their
trade ; but either an hound or an hawk ? and it is well if no
worse. And now, they so live, as if they had forgotten that there
were books. Learning is for priests and pedants ; for gentlemen,
pleasure. 0, that either wealth or wit should be cast away thus
basely ! that ever reason should grow so debauched, as to think
any thing more worthy than knowledge !
With what shame and emulation may we look upon other
nations, whose apish fashions we can take up in the channels,
neglecting their imitable examples ; and with what scorn do they
look upon us ! They haVe their solemn academies for all those
qualities which may accomplish gentility ; from which they re
turn richly furnished, both for action and speculation. They
account knowledge and ability of discourse as essential to great
ness as blood; neither are they more above the vulgar in birth
than in understanding. They travel with judgment, and return
with experience : so do they follow the exercises of the body,
that they neglect not the culture of the mind. From hence grows
civility, and power to manage affairs, either of justice or state ;
from hence encouragement to learning, and reverence from infe
riors. For those only can esteem knowledge which have it ; and
the common sort frame either observance or contempt out of the
example of their leaders. Amongst them, the sons of nobles
scorn not either merchandise or learned professions ; and hate
nothing so much as to do nothing : I shame and hate to think,
that our gallants hold there can be no disparagement but in
honest callings.
Thus, perhaps, I have abated the envy of this reproof, by com
municating it to more ; which I had not done, but that the gene
rality of evil importunes redress. I well see that either good or
evil descends. In vain shall we hope for the reformation of the
many, while the better are disordered. Whom to solicit herein,
I know not, but all. How glad should I be to spend my light to
the snuff for the effecting of this ! I can but persuade and pray :
these I will not fail of : the rest to Him that both can amend and
punish.

Epist. VII.] Practical Works. SOI
TO MR. JONAS REIGESBERGIUS.
IN ZEALAND.
Epistle VII. — Written somewhile since concerning some new
opinions then broached in the churches of Holland; and under
the name of Arminius, then Hvmg : persuading all great
wits to a study and care of the common peace qf the Church ;
dissuading from all affectation qf singularity .
I received, lately, a short relation of some new paradoxes from
your Leyden. You would know what we think. I fear not to
be censured, as meddling : your truth is ours : the sea cannot
divide those churches whom one faith unites.
I know not how it comes to pass, that most men, while they too
much affect civility, turn flatterers; and plain truth is most-where
counted rudeness. He that tells a sick friend he looks ill, or
terms an angry tumour the gout, or a waterish swelling dropsy,
is thought unmannerly.
For my part, I am glad that I was not born to feed humours.
However you take your own evils, I must tell you, we pity you ;
and think you have just cause of dejection, and we for you : not
for any private cares ; but, which touch a Christian nearest, the
commonwealth of God.
Behold, after all those hills of carcasses and streams of blood,
your civil sword is sheathed ; wherein we neither congratulate
nor fear your peace : lo now, instead of that, another while, the
spiritual sword is drawn and shaken ; and it is well, if no more.
Now the politic State sits still, the Church quarrels.
0, the insatiable hostility of our great enemy ! with what
change of mischiefs doth he afflict miserable man ! No sooner
did the Christian world begin to breathe from persecution, but it
was more punished with Arianism : when the red dragon cannot
devour the child, he tries to drown the mother ; and when the
waters fail, he raises war.
Your famous Junius k had nothing more admirable than his
love of peace : when our busy separatists appealed him, with
what a sweet calmness did he reject them, and with a grave im
portunity called them to moderation : how it would have vexed
his holy soul, now out of the danger of passions, to have foreseen
his chair troublesome ! God forbid that the Church should find a
challenger instead of a champion !
k [See Decade I. Epist. VII.]

302 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
Who would think but you should have been taught the benefit
of peace by the long want ? But if your temporal state, besides
either hope or belief, hath grown wealthy with war, like those
fowls which fatten with hard weather, yet be too sure that these
spiritual broils cannot but impoverish the Church, yea, affamish
it. It were pity that your Holland should be still the amphithe
atre of the world, on whose scaffolds all other nations should sit,
and see variety of bloody shows not without pity and horror.
If I might challenge aught in that your acute and learned
Arminius, I would thus solicit and conjure him : " Alas ! that so
wise a man should not know the worth of peace ; that so noble a
son of the Church should not be brought to light without ripping
the womb of his mother ! What mean these subtle novelties ? if
they make thee famous and the Church miserable, who shall gain
by them ? Is singularity so precious, that it should cost no less
than the safety and quiet of our common Mother ? If it be truth
thou affectest ; what, alone ? Could never any eyes till thine be
blessed with this object ? Where hath that sacred verity hid her
self thus long from all her careful inquisitors, that she now first
shows her head to thee unsought ? Hath thee gospel shined thus
long and bright, and left some corners unseen ? Away with all
new truths : fair and plausible they may be ; sound, they cannot :
some may admire thee for them, none shall bless thee. But
grant, that some of these are no less true than nice points : what
do these unseasonable crotchets and quavers trouble the harmoni
ous plainsongs of our peace ? Some quiet error may be better
than some unruly truth. Who binds us to speak all we think ?
So the Church may be still, would God thou wert wise alone ! Did
not our adversaries quarrel enough before at our quarrels ? were
they not rich enough with our spoils ? By the dear name of our
common parents, what meanest thou, Arminius ? Whither tend
these new-raised dissensions ? Who shall thrive by them, but
they which insult upon us, and rise by the fall of truth ? who shall
be undone, but thy brethren ? By that most precious and bloody
ransom of our Saviour, and by that awful appearance we shall
once make before the glorious tribunal of the Son of God, re
member thyself, and the poor distracted limbs of the Church.
Let not those excellent parts wherewith God hath furnished thee
lie in the narrow way, and cause any weak one, either to fall, or
stumble, or err. For God's sake, either say nothing or the same.
How many great wits have sought no by-paths, and now are

Epist. VI.] Practical Works. 303
happy with their fellows ! Let it be no disparagement to go with
many to heaven."
What could he reply to so plain a charge ? No distinction can
avoid the power of simple truth. I know he hears not this of me
first; neither that learned and worthy Fran. Gomarus1, nor your
other grave fraternity of reverend divines, have been silent in so
main a cause. I fear rather too much noise in any of these
tumults ; there may too many contend, not entreat. Multitude
of suitors is commonly powerful : how much more in just motions !
But, if either he or you shall turn me home, and bid me spend
my little moisture upon our own brands ; I grant there is both
the same cause and the same need. This counsel is no whit
farther from us, because it is directed to you. Any reader can
change the person. I lament to see, that everywhere peace hath
not many clients, but fewer lovers ; yea, even many of those that
praise her, follow her not. Of old, the very Novatian men, women,
children brought stones and mortar, with the orthodox, to the
building of the church of the resurrection, and joined lovingly
with them against the Arians : lesser quarrels divide us; and every
division ends in blows, and every blow is returned ; and none of
all lights beside the Church.
" Even the best apostles dissented : neither knowledge nor holi
ness can redress all differences." True, but wisdom and charity
could teach us to avoid their prejudice. If we had but these two
virtues, quarrels should not hurt us, nor the Church by us. But
alas ! self-love is too strong for both these. This alone opens the
floodgates of dissension, and drowns the sweet but low valley of
the Church. Men esteem of opinions, because their own ; and
will have truth serve, not govern. What they have undertaken
must be true ; victory is sought for, not satisfaction ; victory of
the author, not of the cause : he is a rare man that knows to yield
as well as to argue.
What should we do then, but bestow ourselves upon that which
too many neglect, public peace ; first in prayers, that we may pre
vail ; then in tears, that we prevail not ?
Thus have I been bold to .chat with you of our greatest and
common cares. Your old love, and late hospital entertainment
in that your island, called for this remembrance ; the rather to
keep your English tongue in breath, which was wont not to be
1 [Professor of Divinity at Leyden from 1594 to 161 1 ; author of many theo
logical works; took an active part against Arminianism at the synod of Dort.]

304 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
the least of your desires. Would God you could make us happy
with news; not of truce, but sincere amity and union; not of
provinces, but spirits. The God of spirits effect it, both here and
there, to the glory of his name and Church !

TO W. J.
CONDEMNED FOR MURDER.

Epistle VIII. — Effectually preparing him, and, under his name,
whatsoever malefactor, for his death.
It is a bad cause that robbeth us of all the comfort of friends ;
yea, that turns their remembrance into sorrow. None can do so
but those that proceed from ourselves ; for outward evils, which
come from the infliction of others, make us cleave faster to our
helpers ; and cause us to seek and find ease in the very commisera
tion of those that love us : whereas those griefs, which arise from
the just displeasure of conscience, will not abide so much as the
memory of others' affection ; or if it do, makes it so much the
greater corrosive, as our case is more uncapable of their comfort.
Such is yours. You have made the mention of our names tedious
to yourself, and yours to us. This is the beginning of your pain,
that you had friends. If you may now smart soundly from us
for your good, it must be the only joy you must expect, and the
final duty we owe to you.
It is both vain and comfortless to hear what might have been :
neither would I send you back to what is past, but purposely to
increase your sorrow, who have caused all our comfort to stand
in your tears. If therefore our former counsels had prevailed,
neither had your hands shed innocent blood, nor justice yours.
Now, to your great sin, you have done the one, and the other
must be done to your pain ; and we, your well-willers, with sorrow
and shame live to be witnesses of both.
Your sin is gone before ; the revenge of justice will follow :
seeing you are guilty, let God be just. Other sins speak : this
crieth ; and will never be silent, till it be answered with itself.
For your life ; the case is hopeless : feed not yourself with vain
presumptions, but settle yourself to expiate another's blood with

Epist. VIII.] Practical Works. 305
your own. Would God your desert had been such, that we might
with any comfort have desired you might live : but now, alas ! your
fact is so heinous, that your life can neither be craved without
injustice, nor be protracted without inward torment. And if
our private affection should make us deaf to the shouts of blood,
and partiality should teach us to forget all care of public right ;
yet resolve, there is no place for hope.
Since, then you could not live guiltless, there remains nothing but
that you labour to die penitent ; and since your body cannot be
saved alive, to endeavour that your soul may be saved in death.
Wherein, how happy shall it be for you, if you shall yet give ear to
my last advice ! too late indeed for your recompense to the world;
not too late for yourself.
You have deserved death, and expect it; take heed, lest you
so fasten your eyes upon the first death of the body, that you
should not look beyond it to the second ; which alone is worthy
of trembling, worthy of tears. For this, though terrible to nature,
yet is common to us with you. You must die ; what do we «lse ?
And what differs our end from yours but in haste and violence ?
And who knows whether in that ? it may be a sickness as sharp,
as sudden, shall fetch us hence : it may be the same death, or a
worse, for a better cause. Or if not so, there is much more
misery in lingering : he dies easily that dies soon : but the other
is the utmost vengeance that God hath reserved for his enemies.
This is a matter of long fear and short pain : a few pangs let the
soul out of prison ; but the torment of that other is everlasting :
after ten thousand years scorching in that flame, the pain is never
the nearer to his ending : no time gives it hope of abating ; yea,
time hath nothing to do with this eternity : you that shall feel
the pain of one minute's dying think what pain it is to be dying
for ever and ever. This, although it be attended with a sharp
pain, yet is such as some strong spirits have endured without
show of yieldance ; I have heard of an Irish traitor, that when he
lay. pining upon the wheel with his bones broke, asked his friend
if he changed his countenance at all ; caring less for the pain,
than the show of fear : few men have died of greater pains than
others have sustained and live : but that other overwhelms both
body and soul, and leaves no room for any comfort in the possi
bility of mitigation. Here, men are executioners, or diseases ;
there, fiends : those devils, that were ready to tempt the graceless
unto sin, are as ready to follow the damned with tortures. What-
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. X

306 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
soever become of your carcass, save your soul from the flames ;
and so manage this short time you have to live, that you may die
but once.
This is not your first sin ; yea, God hath now punished your
former sins with this ; a fearful punishment in itself, if it deserved
no more. Your conscience, which now begins to tell truth, cannot
but assure you that there is no sin more worthy of hell than
murder ; yea, more proper to it. Turn over those holy leaves,
which you have too much neglected, and now smart for neglecting ;
you shall find murderers among those that are shut out from the
presence of God ; you shall find the prince of that darkness in
the highest style of his mischief, termed a manslayer. Alas !
how fearful a case is this, that you have herein resembled him for
whom Tophet was prepared of old ; and, imitating him in his action,
have endangered yourself to partake of his torment !
O that you could but see what you have done, what you have
deserved ; that your heart could bleed enough within you, for the
blood your hands have shed ! that, as you have followed Satan,
our common enemy, in sinning, so you could defy him in repent
ing ! that your tears could disappoint his hopes of your damnation !
What a happy unhappiness shall this be to your sad friends, that
your better part yet liveth ! that, from an ignominious place,
your soul is received to glory ! Nothing can effect this but your
repentance : and that can doit. Fear not to look into that horror
which should attend your sin ; and be now as severe to yourself
as you have been cruel to another.
Think not to extenuate your offence with the vain titles of
manhood : what praise is this, that you were a valiant murderer ?
Strike your own breast, as Moses did his rock ; and bring down
rivers of tears to wash away your bloodshed. Do not so much
fear your judgment as abhor your sin ; yea, yourself for it ; and,
with strong cries, lift up your guilty Lands to that God whom you
offended, and say. Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O Lord.
Let me tell you ; as without repentance there is no hope, so
with it there is no condemnation. True penitence is strong, and
can grapple with the greatest sin ; yea, with all the powers of
hell. What if your hands be red with blood ? behold the blood
of your Saviour shall wash away yours. If you can bathe your
self in that, your scarlet soul shall be as white as snow. This
course alone shall make your cross the way to the paradise of
God. This plaister can heal all the sores of the soul, if never
so desperate. Only take heed that your heart be deep enough

Epist. IX.] Practical Works. 307
pierced ere you lay it on ; else, under a seeming skin of dissimu
lation your soul shall fester to death. Yet joy us with your true
sorrow whom you have grieved with your offence, and at once
comfort your friends and save your soul.

TO MR. JOHN MOLE™. i
OF A LONG TJME NOW PRISONER UNDER THE INQUISITION
AT ROME, 1607.
Epistle IX. — Exciting him to his wonted constancy, and en
couraging him to martyrdom.
What passage can these lines hope to find into that your strait
and curious thraldom ? Yet, who would not adventure the loss of
this pains for him which is ready to lose himself for Christ ? What
do we not owe to you, which have thus given yourself for the
common faith ? Blessed be the name of that God who hath singled
you out for his champion, and made you invincible. How famous
are your bonds ! how glorious your constancy ! O, that out of
your close obscurity you could but see the honour of your suffer
ing ; the affections of God's saints ; and in some, a holy envy at
your distressed happiness.
Those walls cannot hide you. No man is attended with so
many eyes from earth and heaven. The Church, your mother,
beholds you, not with more compassion than joy ; neither can it
be said how she at once pities your misery and rejoices in your
patience. The blessed angels look upon you with gratulation and
applause ; the adversaries, with an angry sorrow, to see themselves
overcome by their captive ; their obstinate cruelty overmatched
with humble resolution and faithful perseverance. Your Saviour
sees you from above, not as a mere spectator, but as a patient
with you, in you, for you ; yea, as an agent in your endurance
and victory ; giving new courage with the one hand, and holding
out a crown with the other. Whom would not these sights
encourage ?
Who now can pity your solitariness ? The hearts of all good
men are with you. Neither can that place be but full of angels
which is the continual object of so many prayers ; yea, the God
of heaven was never so near you as now you are removed from
m [Molle or Mole, a prisoner (till his death in his eighty-first year) for thirty
years. See Birch's Life of the Prince of Wales, p. 213 ; and Fuller's Ch. Hist.
book X.] X 2

308 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
men. Let me speak a bold but true word : it is as possible for
him to be absent from his heaven as from the prisons of his saints.
The glorified spirits above sing to him ; the persecuted souls be
low suffer for him and cry to him ; he is magnified in both; pre
sent with both ; the faith of the one is as pleasing to him as the
triumph of the other.
Nothing obligeth us men so much as smarting for us. Words
of defence are worthy of thanks, but pain is esteemed above re
compense. How do we kiss the wounds which are taken for our
sakes, and profess that we would hate ourselves if we did not love
those that dare bleed for us ! How much more shall the God of
mercies be sensible of your sorrows, and crown your patience ! to
whom, you may truly sing that ditty of the prophet, Surely, for
thy sake am I slain continually, and am counted as a sheep for
the slaughter.
What need I to stir up your constancy, which hath already
amazed and wearied your persecutors? No suspicion shall drive
me hereto, but rather the thirst of your praise. He that exhorts
to persist in welldoing, while he persuades, commendeth. Whither
should I rather send you than to the sight of your own Christian
fortitude ? which neither prayers nor threats have been able to
shake. Here stand, on the one hand, liberty, promotion, pleasure,
life, and, which easily exceeds all these, the dear respect of wife
and children, whom your only resolution shall make widow and
orphans ; these, with smiles and vows and tears, seem to importune
you : on the other hand, bondage, solitude, horror, death, and, the
most lingering of all miseries, ruin of posterity ; these, with frowns
and menaces labour to affright you : betwixt both, you have stood
unmoved, fixing your eyes either right forward upon the cause of
your sufferings, or upwards upon the crown of your reward.
It is an happy thing when our own actions may be either ex
amples or arguments of good. These blessed proceedings call you
on to your perfection ; the reward of good beginnings prosecuted
is doubled ; neglected, is lost. How vain are those temptations
which would make you a loser of all this praise, this recompense I
Go on, therefore, happily ; keep your eyes where they are ; and
your heart cannot be but where it is, and where it ought.
Look still for what you suffer, and for whom ; for the truth ;
for Christ.
What can be so precious as truth ? not life itself. All earthly
things are not so vile to life, as life to truth : life is momentary ;

Epist. IX.] Practical Works. 309
truth, eternal : life is ours ; the truth, God's : 0 happy purchase,
to give our life for the truth !
What can we suffer too much for Christ ? He hath given our
life to us ; he hath given his own life for us. What great thing
is it if he require what he hath given us ; if ours, for his ? yea
rather, if he call for what he hath lent us ? yet not to bereave, but
to change it ; giving us gold for clay, glory for our corruption.
Behold that Saviour of yours weeping and bleeding and dying
for you : alas ! our souls are too strait for his sorrows : we can be
made but pain for him ; he was made sin for us : we sustain for
him but the impotent anger of men ; he struggled with the infinite
wrath of his Father for us. O, who can endure enough for him
that hath passed through death and hell for his soul ? Think this,
and you shall resolve with David, I will be yet more vile for the
Lord. The worst of the despite of men is but death ; and that, if they
inflict not, a disease will ; or if not that, age. Here is no impo
sition of that which would not be ; but an hastening of that which
will be ; an hastening, to your gain.
For, behold, their violence shall turn your necessity into virtue
and profit. Nature hath made you mortal ; none but an enemy
can make you a martyr. You must die, though they will not ;
you cannot die for Christ but by them. How could they else de
vise to make you happy ? since the Giver of both lives hath said,
He that shall lose his life for my sake shall save it. Lo, this
alone is lost with keeping, and gained by loss.
Say, you were freed, upon the safest conditions ; and returning :
as how welcome should that news be; more to yours than to
yourself! Perhaps death may meet you in the way, perhaps over
take you at home ; neither place nor time can promise immunity
from the common destiny of men. Those that may abridge your
hours cannot lengthen them ; and while they last, cannot secure
them from vexation : yea, themselves shall follow you into their
dust, and cannot avoid what they can inflict : death shall equally
tyrannize by them and over them. So, their favours are but
fruitless, their malice gainful ; for it shall change your prison into
heaven, your fetters into a crown, your jailers to angels, your
misery into glory.
Look up to your future estate, and rejoice in the present. Be
hold, the tree of life, the hidden manna, the sceptre of power, the
morning star, the white garment, the new name, the crown and

310 Practical Works. [Decade VI.
throne of heaven, are addressed for you. Overcome, and enjoy
them. 0 glorious condition of martyrs ! whom conformity in
death hath made like their Saviour in blessedness ; whose honour
is to attend him for ever whom they have joyed to imitate. What
are these which are arrayed in long white robes, and whence
came they ? These are, says that heavenly elder, they which
came out of great tribulation, and washed their long robes, und
have made their robes white in the blood of the Lamb. There
fore they are in the presence qf the throne qf God ; and serve
him, day and night, in his temple: and he that sitteth on the
throne will dwell among them; and govern them; and lead
them unto the lively fountains of waters ; and God shall wipe
all tears from their eyes.
All the elect have seals in their foreheads, but martyrs have
palms in their hands. All the elect have white robes ; martyrs,
both white and long ; white for their glory ; long, for the large
ness of their glory ; once, red with their own blood ; now, white
with the blood of the Lamb : there is nothing in our blood but
weak obedience ; nothing but merit in the Lamb's blood. Behold,
his merit makes our obedience glorious. You do but sprinkle his
feet with your blood ; lo, he washes your long white robes with
his. Every drop of your blood is answered with a stream of his,
and every drop of his is worth rivers of ours.
Precious in the sight qf the Lord is the death of his saints :
precious, in prevention ; precious, in acceptation ; precious, in re
muneration. 0, give willingly that which you cannot keep, that
you may receive what you cannot lose. The way is steep, but
now you breathe towards the top. Let not the want of some few
steps lose you an eternal rest. Put to the strength of your own
faith. The prayers of God's saints shall further your pace ; and
that gracious hand, that sustains heaven and earth, shall uphold,
and sweetly draw you up to your glory. Go on to credit the
gospel with your perseverance, and show the falsehearted clients
of that Roman court, that the truth yields real and hearty pro
fessors, such as dare no less smart than speak for her.
Without the walls of your restraint, where can you look beside
encouragements of suffering ? Behold, in this, how much you are
happier than your many predecessors ; those have found friends,
or wives, or children, the most dangerous of all tempters : sug
gestions of weakness, when they come masked with love, are more
powerful to hurt : but you, all your many friends, in the valour

Epist. X.J Practical Works. 311
of their Christian love, wish rather a blessed martyr, than a living
and prosperous revolter. Yea, your dear wife, worthy of this
honour to be the wife of a martyr, prefers your faith to her af
fection; and, in a courage beyond her sex, contemns the worst
misery of your loss ; professing she would redeem your life with
hers ; but that she would not redeem it with your yieldance ; and,
while she looks upon those many pawns of your chaste love, your
hopeful children, wishes rather to see them fatherless, than their
father unfaithful. The greatest part of your sufferings are hers ;
she bears them with a cheerful resolution ; she divides with you
in your sorrows, in your patience ; she shall not be divided in
your glory. For us, we shall accompany you with our prayers,
and follow yoir with our thankful commemorations ; vowing to
write your name in red letters in the kalendars of our hearts, and
to register it in the monuments of perpetual records, as an exam
ple to all posterity : The memorial qf the just shall be blessed.

TO ALL READERS.

Epistle X. — Containing rules of good advice for our Christian
and civil carriage.
I grant brevity, where it is neither obscure nor defective, is
very pleasing, even to the daintiest judgments. No marvel, there
fore, if most men desire much good counsel in a narrow room ; as
some affect to have great personages drawn in little tablets ; or,
as we see worlds of countries described in the compass of small
maps. Neither do I unwillingly yield to follow them : for both
the powers of good advice are the stronger when they are thus
united ; and brevity makes counsel more portable for memory,
and readier for use. Take these therefore, for more ; which as I
would fain practise, so am I willing to commend.
Let us begin with Him who is the First and Last. Inform
yourself aright concerning God; without whom, in vain do we
know all things. Be acquainted with that Saviour of yours, which
paid so much for you on earth, and now sues for you in heaven ;
without whom, we have nothing to do with God, nor he with us :
adore him in your thoughts, trust him with yourself; renew your
sight of him every day, and his of you. Overlook these earthly
things ; and when you do at any time cast your eyes upon heaven,,
think, There dwells my Saviour ; there I shall be. Call yourself

312 Practical Works. [Decade VI. Ep. X.]
to often reckonings : cast up your debts, payments, graces, wants,
expenses, employments; yield not to think your set devotions
troublesome. Take not easy denials from yourself; yea, give
peremptory denials to yourself: he can never be good that flatters
himself: hold nature to her allowance, and let your will stand at
courtesy : happy is that man which hath obtained to be the master
of his own heart. Think all God's outward favours and provisions
the best for you ; your own ability and actions the meanest.
Suffer not your mind to be either a drudge or a wanton ; exercise
it ever, but overlay it not. In all your businesses look through
the world at God ; whatsoever is your level, let him be your scope.
Every day take a view of your last, and think, Either it is this, or
may be. Offer not yourself either to honour or labour ; let them
both seek you : care you only to be worthy, and you cannot hide
you from God. So frame yourself to the time and company, that
you may neither serve it nor sullenly neglect it ; and yield so far,
as you may neither betray goodness nor countenance evil. Let
your words be few and digested : it is a shame for the tongue to
cry the heart mercy ; much more to cast itself upon the uncertain
pardon of others' ears. There are but two things which a Christian is
charged to buy and not to sell — time and truth ; both so precious,
that we must purchase them at any rate. So use your friends, as
those which should be perpetual may be changeable. While you
are within yourself there is no danger, but thoughts once uttered
must stand to hazard. Do not hear from yourself what you would
be loath to hear from others. In all good things give the eye and
ear the full of scope, for they let into the mind ; restrain the
tongue, for it is a spender : few men have repented them of silence.
In all serious matters, take counsel of days and nights and friends ;
and let leisure ripen your purposes : neither hope to gain aught
by suddenness : the first thoughts may be confident, the second
are wiser. Serve honesty ever, though without apparent wages :
she will pay sure, if slow. As in apparel, so in actions ; know not
what is good, but what becomes you : how many warrantable acts
have mishapen the authors ! Excuse not your own ill : aggravate
not others' ; and if you love peace, avoid censures, comparisons,
contradictions. Out of good men choose acquaintance ; of ac
quaintance, friends ; of friends, familiars : after probation, admit
them ; and, after admittance, change them not : age commendeth
friendship. Do not always your best : it is neither wise nor safe
for a man ever to stand upon the top of his strength. If you would

A consolatory letter to one under censure. 313
be above the expectation of others, be ever below yourself. Ex
pend after your purse, not after your mind. Take not where
you may deny, except upon conscience of desert, or hope to re
quite. Either frequent suits or complaints are wearisome to a
friend : rather smother your griefs and wants as you may, than
be either querulous or importunate. Let not your face behe your
heart, nor always tell tales out of it : he is fit to live amongst
friends or enemies that can be ingenuously close. Give freely ;
sell thriftily. Change seldom your place; never your state.
Either amend inconveniences, or swallow them rather than you
should run from yourself to avoid them. In all your reckonings
for the world, cast up some crosses that appear not ; either those
will come, or may. Let your suspicions be charitable ; your trust,
fearful ; your censures, sure. Give way to the anger of the great :
the thunder and cannon will abide no fence. As in throngs we
are afraid of loss, so, while the world comes upon you, look well
to your soul : there is more danger in good than in evil.
I fear the number of these my rules ; for precepts are wont,
as nails, to drive out one another ; but these I intended to scatter
amongst many : and I was loath that any guest should complain
of a niggardly hand. Dainty dishes are wont to be sparingly
served out ; homely ones supply in their bigness what they want
in their worth.

A CONSOLATORY LETTER
TO ONE UNDER CENSURE.
Sib, — It is not for me to examine the grounds of your afflic
tion, which, as they shall come to be scanned by greater judg
ments, so, in the mean time, have doubtless received both a ver
dict and sentence from your own heart. And if this act were in
my power, I can much better suffer with my friend than judge
him. But however either partial or rigorous the conceits of
others may be, be sure, I beseech you, that you receive from
your own bosom a free and just doom on all your actions : after
all the censures of others, thence must proceed either your peace
or torment.
But what do I undertake to teach him that is already in the
school of God, and, under that divine ferule, hath learned more
than by all the theorical counsels of prosperity ? Surely, I can-

314 Practical Works.
not but profess, that I know not whether I were more sorry for
the desert of your durance, or glad of such fruit thereof as mine
eyes and ears witnessed from you.
But one sabbath is past since my meditations were occasioned
to fix themselves upon the gain which God's children make of
their sins : the practice whereof I rejoiced to see concur in you
with my speculation.
And indeed it is one of the wonders of God's mercy and pro
vidence, that those wounds wherewith Satan hopes to kill the
soul, through the wise and gracious ordination of God, serve to
heal it. We, faint soldiers, should never fight so valiantly if it
were not for the indignation at our foil. There are corruptions
that may lurk secretly in a corner of the soul unknown, unseen,
till the shame of a notorious evil send us to search and ransack.
If but a spot light upon our cloak, we regard it not; but if,
through our neglect or the violence of a blast, it fall into the
mire, then we wash and scour it.
As we use therefore to say, there cannot be better physic to
a choleric body than a seasonable ague ; so may I say safely, there
can be nothing so advantageous to a secure heart as to be sin-
sick ; for hereby he, who before fell in overpleasing himself,
begins to displease himself at his fall. Fire never ascends so high
as when it is beaten back with a cool blast. Water, that runs in
a smooth level with an insensible declination, though a heavy
body, yet, if it fall low, it rises high again. Much forgiven
causeth much love ; neither had the penitent made an ewer of
her eyes, and a towel of her hair for Christ's feet, if she had not
found herself more faulty than her neighbours. Had not Peter
thrice denied, he had not been graced with that threefold ques
tion of his Saviour's love.
It is an harsh, but a true word, God's children have cause to
bless him for nothing more than for their sins. If that allwise
Providence have thought good to raise up even your forgotten
sins in your face, to shame you before men, there cannot be a
greater argument of his mercy. This blushing shall avoid eternal
confusion. Envy not at the felicity of the closely or gloriously
guilty, who have at once firm foreheads and foul bosoms : vaunting
therefore of their innocence, because they can have no accusers ;
like wicked harlots, who, because they were delivered without a
midwife, and have made away their stolen birth, go current still
for maids. Nothing can be more miserable than a sinner's pro
sperity : this argues him bound over, in God's just decree, to an

A consolatory letter to one under censure. 315
everlasting vengeance : Woe be to them that laugh here ; for
they shall weep and gnash : happy is that shame that shall end
in glory.
And if the wisdom of that just Judge of the world shall think
fit to strip you of your worldly wealth and outward estate, ac
knowledge his mercy, and your gain in this loss. He saw this
camel's bunch kept you out of the needle's eye. He saw these
bells too heavy for that high flight to which he intended you.
Now shall you begin to be truly rich, when you can enjoy the
Possessor of heaven and earth : when these base rivals are shut
out of doors, God shall have your whole heart, who were not
himself, if he were not all-sufficient.
Neither let it he too heavy upon your heart, that your hopeful
sons shall inherit nothing from you but shame and dishonour.
Why are you injurious to yourself and those you love : your
repentance shall feoff upon them more blessings than your sin
hath lost. Let posterity say they were the sons of a penitent
father, this stain is washed off with your tears and their virtue.
And for their provision, if the worst fall, The earth is the Lord's,
and the fulness thereof, imagine them born to nothing. We that
are more rich in children than estate, hope well of those vessels
whom we can put forth well rigged and well ballasted, though
not wealthily laden. How sensibly do you now find, that wealth
doth not consist in getting much, but well ; and that contentment
doth not he in the coffer, but in the breast ; lastly, that all trea
sures are dross to a good conscience !
For yourself; if you be pent up within four walls, and barred
both of sun and men, make God yours, and you cannot complain
of restraint or solitude. No prison is too strait for his presence.
Heaven itself would be a prison without him. Your serious re
pentance may win that society which makes the very angels
blessed. This is the way to make Him your comforter, your com
panion, in whose presence is the fulness of joy.
Shortly, let your thoughts be altogether such as may beseem a
man not unwillingly weaned from this world, and careful only
to speed happily in another. We, your poor friends, can answer
the kind respects of your prosperity no otherwise than with our
prayers for the best use of your affliction ; which shall not be
wanting from your true and sorrowful well-wilier,
J. H.

316 Practical Works.

A LETTER OF ANSWER TO AN
UNKNOWN COMPLAINANT,
CONCERNING THE
FREQUENT INJECTING OF TEMPTATIONS.
The case whereof you complain is not more worthy of secresy
than of pity ; and yet, in true judgment, not so heinous as you
conceive it. Evil motions are cast into you, which yet you enter
tain not with consent. Let me assure you, these are not your
sins, but his that injects them. You may be, as you are, troubled
with their importunity ; but you are not tainted with their evil,
while you dislike and hate them, and are grieved with their sug
gestion. That bold and subtle enemy of ours durst cast tempta
tions into the Son of God himself, in whom yet he could find no
thing. It were woe with us, if lewd motions, though repelled,
should be imputed unto us : it is only our consent that brings
them home to us, and makes them our sins. Were then these
thoughts, as you suppose them, blasphemies; yet, while your
heart goes not with them, but abhors them, and strives against
them, they may afflict you, they cannot hurt you. As Luther
said, in the like case, birds may fly over our heads, whether we
will or no, but they cannot nestle in our hair, unless we permit
them. Take heart, therefore, to yourself ; and be not too much
dejected with the wicked solicitations of a known *enemy : for the
redress whereof, as I have not been unacquainted with the like
causes of complaints, let me prescribe you a double remedy — re
solution and prayer.
In the first place, take up strong resolutions, not to give heed
or ear to these unreasonable motions. Resolve, rather, to scorn
and contemn them, upon their first intimation, as not worthy of a
particular answer : for, certainly, holding chat with them and sad
agitations, and arguing of them as thoughts meet to receive a sa
tisfaction, draws on their more troublesome importunity ; whereas,
if they were slighted, and disdainfully turned off upon their first
glimpse, they would go away ashamed. Whensoever, therefore,
any such suggestions offer themselves unto you, think with your
self : " I know whence this comes ; it is Satan's ; let him take it,

A letter of answer to an unknown complainant. 317
whose it is ; I will not meddle with it." Say but, in your Sa
viour's words, Avoid, Satan ! and divert your thoughts to some
holy and profitable subject, and these temptations will, hy God's
grace, soon vanish.
In the second place, apply yourself to the remedy of that
chosen vessel, who, when he was buffeted by the messenger of
Satan, had recourse to the throne of grace ; and besought God
thrice, that is, frequently, that he might depart away from him.
Whensoever you shall be thus troubled, do you, by a sudden eja
culation, raise up your heart to God, and beseech him to rebuke
that evil one ; and do not so much care to answer the temptation,
as to implore the aid of him who can take off the tempter at
pleasure, who hath an hook in the nostrils of that leviathan.
Certainly, those evil thoughts cannot be more swift-winged than
our prayers may be, nor so prevalent to our vexation as our
prayers shall be for our rescue. Be therefore fervent and assi
duous in them, and, my soul for yours, the enemy shall have no
power to harm you.
As for your doubt of receiving the blessed sacrament, because
of these misconceived blasphemies, it falls alone by what I have
already said. The blasphemies, if they were such, are Satan's,
not yours : why should you not do yourself good, because he
would do you a mischief I In God's name, go on to defy that
evil one; and let him take his wickedness to himself; and do
you go, with cheerfulness and good courage, to that holy table ;
as there and thence expecting to receive new strength against all
his assaults. Neither doubt I, but that our good God will so
bless unto you this institution of his own, together with your
prayers and resolutions, that you shall be soon and fully freed
from these hateful guests, and comfortably enjoy him and your
self; which I shall also gladly second with my prayers for you,
though unknown, as who am
Your truly compassionate,
and well-wishing friend in Christ,
JOS. EXON.
Exon. April 14, 1630.

318 Practical Works.

RESOLUTIONS FOR RELIGION.
Whereas there are many loud quarrels and brabbles about
matters of religion, this is my firm and steadfast resolution, wherein
I find peace with God and my own soul : as being undoubtedly
certain in itself, and holily charitable to others, and that in wliich
I constantly purpose, God willing, as to live, so to die.
i . I do believe and know, that there is but one way to heaven,
even the true and living way, Jesus Christ, God and\Man, the Sa
viour of the world.
2. I believe and know, that this way, however it is a narrow '
and strait way in respect of the world, yet hath much latitude
in itself; so as those that truly believe in this Son of God their
Saviour, though they may be misled into many by-paths of small
errors, yet, by the mercy of God, are acknowledged not to be
out of the main highway to eternal life.
3. I believe and know, that the canonical scriptures of God
are the true and unfailing rule of our faith ; so as whatsoever is
therein contained is the infallible truth of God ; and whatsoever
is necessary to be believed to eternal salvation is therein expressly,
or, by clear and undoubted consequence, contained ; and so set
forth, as it neither needeth further explication, nor admits of any
probable contradiction.
4. I believe and know, that God hath, ever since the creation
of mankind, had a church upon earth ; and so shall have, to the
end of the world : which is a society or communion of faithful
men, professing his name ; against which the gates of hell shall
never be able to prevail for the failings thereof.
5- I believe and know, that the consenting voice of the succes
sions and present universality of faithful men in all times and
places is worthy of great authority, both for our confirmation in
all truths, and for our direction in all the circumstantial points of
God's service ; so as it cannot be opposed, or severed from, with
out just offence to God.
6. I believe and know, that, besides those necessary truths con
tained in the holy scriptures, and seconded by the consent and
profession of all God's faithful ones, there may be and ever
have been certain collateral and not-mainly importing verities,

Resolutions for religion. 319
wherein it is not unlawful for several particular churches to main
tain their own tenets, and to dissent from other ; and the se
veral members of those particular churches are bound so far to
tender the common peace, as not to oppose such publicly received
truths. 7. I do confidently believe, that if all the particular churches
through the whole Christian world should meet together, and
determine these secondary and unimporting truths to be believed
upon necessity of salvation, and shall enact damnation to all those
which shall deny their assent thereunto, they should go beyond
the commission which God hath given them, and do an act which
God hath never undertaken to warrant; since there can be no
new principles of Christian religion, however there may be an
application of some formerly received divine truths to some
emergent occasions, and a clearer explication of some obscure
verities. 8. I do confidently believe, that God hath never confined the
determination of his will in all questions and matters pertaining
to salvation, or whatsoever controversies of religion, to the breast
of any one man, or to a particular church, or to a correspondence
of some particular churches, so as they shall not possibly err in
their definitions and decrees.
9. I do confidently believe, that the church of Rome, compre
hending both the head and those her adherents and dependants,
being but particular churches, have highly offended God, in arro
gating to themselves the privilege of infallibility, which was
never given them, and in ordaining new articles of faith ; and
excluding from the bosom of God's Church and the gates of
heaven all those which differ from her in the refusal of her late-
bred impositions, though otherwise holy men, and no less true
Christians than any of themselves.
10. I do confidently believe, that, though it be a thing very
requisite to public peace and good order, that every several
Christian should be ranged under some particular church, and
every particular assembly be subordinate to some higher govern
ment, which may oversee and overrule them, in the case of dif
ferent opinions and matters of practice ; yet, that God hath not
required or commanded either of these upon necessity of salva
tion ; so as an Indian convert, in the remotest part of the world,
believing in Christ, may, without relation to any church whatso
ever, be saved : and a particular church, being orthodox in the

320 Practical Works.
main principles of religion, upon matter of litigious contestation,
flying off from some more eminent church under which it was
ranked for order's sake, however it may be faulty in an undue
division, yet is not hereby excluded from the capacity of salva
tion ; since such slight jars and unkindnesses in churches can no
more shut them out from a common interest in Christ, than the
like quarrels of a Paul and Barnabas, Acts xv. 39, could keep
either of them out of heaven.
11. I do confidently believe, that all the particular national
churches through the whole Christian world are no other than
sisters ; daughters of the same Father, God ; of the same mo
ther, the spiritual Jerusalem, which is from above : some of them
are elder sisters; others, younger; some, more tall and large
spread ; others, of less stature ; some, fairer, in respect of hohness
of life and orthodoxy of judgment ; others, fouler, in respect of
corruptions, both of doctrine and manners : still sisters. And if
any of them shall usurp a mistress-ship oyer the rest, or make
herself a queen over them, and make them subjects and slaves to
her ; or a motherhood to the rest, otherwise than in a priority
and aid of conversion, and make them but daughters and punies
to her ; she shall be guilty of a high arrogance and presumption
against Christ and his dear spouse the Church ; since with the
just and holy God there is no respect of persons or places, but in
all nations those that serve him best are most accepted of him.
1 a. From hence will follow this double corollary :
First, that as there is a kind of natural equality in sisterhood,
no particular national church can, by right of any institution of
God, challenge a commanding power over the rest; however
some one may have a precedency to other, in respect, whether of
more constant holiness and sincerity, or more speed of conver
sion, or of larger extent, or of the civil greatness and preemi
nence of that state or nation wherein it is settled ; and upon this
occasion may and must improve and exercise her eminence to the
defence and furtherance of the weaker and more distressed : but
if any particular national church, being less able to sustain itself,
shall agree voluntarily to submit herself, for order's sake and for
safety and protection, to the sway of one more famous and power
ful, her engagement doth justly bind her, so far as lawfully it
reacheth ; viz. to acknowledge a priority of place, and to respect
her directions in matters of form and outward administration, so
long as they vary not from the rule which God hath set in his

Resolutions for religion. 321
Church : but if that more potent church shall abuse that power,
and begin to exercise tyranny over the weaker, by forcing upon
her new and undue impositions of faith, or intolerable insolencies
in government ; there is no law of God that binds that weaker
church, Issachar-like, to lie down between two burdens : she may
challenge and resume the right of a sister, and shake off the
yoke of a slave, without the violation of any command of God ;
and not the injured, but the oppressor, is guilty of the breach of
peace. Secondly, it will hence follow, that the relation of this common
sisterhood of all Christian churches justly ties all those that pro
fess the name of Christ to a charitable regard of each to other :
so as, though there be in some of them gross errors in matters
of doctrine, and foul corruptions in matters in practice ; yet
while they hold and maintain all the articles of the same
Christian faith, and acknowledge the same scriptures, the sub
stance of the same baptism, and of the institution of the holy
eucharist, they cease not to continue sisters, notwithstanding
their manifold enormities and depravations. These are enough
to deform any church ; not enough to dischurch it. These are
enough to impair the health, not to bereave the life. Howso
ever, therefore, we must always hate and cry down their errors,
which a wilful maintenance makes no less than damnable ; yet
we must pity and pray for their persons, and by all good means
labour to bring them to an acknowledgment of the opposed
truth. And although I well know there is ill use made of our
charity this way by those willing mistakers who turn it to our
disadvantage, that we pass so favourable censures upon their
churches, while they pass so cruel and merciless censures upon
ours ; yet my conscience bids me to -say, that I cannot repent of
this just sentence; wherein I know I shall find comfort in my
appearance before the dreadful tribunal of God, when the un
charitableness and injustice of these bloody men, that send their
charitable opposers to a remediless damnation, shall be adjudged
to that hell which they have presumptuously doomed unto others.
As for them, let them see how they can answer it to that just
Judge of the world in that great day, that they have presumed
to blot out of the book of life so many millions of faithful
Christians, only for dissenting from them in such points as God
never gave them warrant to impose.
From the force then of this relation, it is easily subinferred,
bp. hall, vol. vi. T

322 Practical Works.
that it is not lawful for Christian churches, upon differences
about points not essential to# the faith, either voluntarily to for
sake the communion of each other, or forcibly to abdicate and
thrust out each other from their communion : there being the
same reason in this behalf of a church and a several Christian :
as, therefore, one Christian may not abandon another for differ
ences of opinion, in matters not necessary to be believed ; so neither
may one church, upon such ground, either leave or expel another ;
but if any such act be done, it is to be inquired both where the
fault is, and what may be the remedy.
In a mere simple dereliction of a church thus differing, and
supposed so to err, the faults must needs be in the church forsak
ing ; but where the departure is accompanied with such circum
stances as may be supposed to be incident in such cases, there the
state of the business may be altered, and the blame of either part
either taken off or aggravated. To instance in the prosecution of
this relation which we have in hand : Two sisters are appointed by
their mother to look to her house ; the charge is given equally to
both : the mother is no sooner out of sight, than the elder begins to
domineer over the younger, and requires her to do something in
the family which she conceives may tend to the prejudice of the
common profit, and cross the mother's intention : the younger,
finding herself grieved with this carriage, and dishking the task
enjoined, both forbears to do it and seriously expostulates with
her sister, laying before her the inconveniences which will follow
upon such an act: the elder, impatient of a contradiction, not
only gives sharp language, but thrusts her sister out of doors ;
neither will admit her to come in again, except she submit herself
to her authority, and perform that share which she formerly re
fused : the younger holds off, as thinking she may not yield with
out wrong to herself and to her mother's trust. The sisters
are now thus parted ; but where is the blame ? The younger
is gone away from the elder, but she doth it upon the elder's
violence : on the one side, she had not gone if she had not been
thrust out ; on the other side, she had not been thrust out if she
had not refused to do the thing required : on the one side, the
elder might not be so imperious, nor enjoin a thing unfit ; on the
other side, the younger might not upon such a command volun
tarily forsake the elder: but if the elder shall unjustly challenge
such authority, and shall thereupon impose unmeet services, and
shall put the younger out of doors for not performing them, it is
clear where the fault rests.

Resolutions for religion. 323
I appeal to God, and the consciences of all just men, if this be
not the state of the present differences of the Romans and re
formed churches. The remedy whereof must therefore begin from
those parties which have given cause of the breach. If they shall
remit of their undue height and rigour, and be content with those
moderate hounds which God hath set them, both for doctrine and
government, and yield themselves but capable of error, there may
be possibility of reunion and peace : but while they persist to
challenge an infallibility of judgment and uncontrollableness of
practice, they do wilfully block up the way to all reconciliation
and concord, and stand guilty of all that grievous schism under
which the Church of God thus long and miserably suffers.
And this, upon full deliberation, is my settled and final resolu
tion concerning the main difference in religion; wherein my soul
doth so confidently rest, that I dare therewith boldly appear be
fore the face of that great Judge of the quick and dead, as know
ing it infallibly warranted by his own undoubted word.
JOS. EXON.

T 1

THE
REMEDY OF PROFANENESS: OR
THE TRUE SIGHT AND FEAR OF THE ALMIGHTY.
A NEEDFUL TRACTATE.

BY JOSEPH EXON.

IMPRIMATUR. SA. BAKER. OCT. n, 1637.

Reader, — I had meant to take leave of the press, as one that repented to be
guilty of this common surfeit. Yet once again my zeal urges me to break
silence. I find so little fear of God in this world, which I am shortly leaving,
that I could not forbear, after my tears, to bestow some ink upon it. Every
man can bewail it: I have studied to redress it. We may endeavour that
which God only can effect. I humbly leave this to the work of no less than
an Omnipotent Grace : in the mean time, it is both holy and laudable to pro
ject the remedies ; and it shall be the no small comfort of my deathbed, that
I have left behind me this seasonable advice of better thoughts, which, when
I am gone, may survive to the benefit of many.
Know withal, that this treatise entered the press under the honoured name
of my dear lord the Earl of Norwich ; whose death preventing the publication
hath sent it forth patronless. Methought I should not endure, that what was
once his in my destination should ever be any other's. Let this blank be as
my last memorial of the honour that I justly bear to that incomparable friend,
both alive and dead ; and serve to profess unto the world, that these papers
yield themselves not unwilling orphans upon his loss.
But why do I so misname his glory 1 That blessed soul, not staying the
leisure of my present directions, hasted up to the free view of the face of his
God, which I could only show dimly and aloof. There will be more use of
the imitation of his practice than of the honour of his protection. Let us go
cheerfully on in the steps of true piety and conscionable obedience, until our
faith, hkewise, shall shut up in a happy fruition.

THE CONTENTS.

BOOK I.

Pboem.- — The occasion, need, and use of the treatise ensuing.
Sect. I. — No one word can express that grace which we treat of; what it in
cludes and intimates, fear is no fit term for it : affections well employed turn
virtues. Wherein holy fear consists : what is required to the attaining of it :
The sight HGod-,
B I oi ourselves.
Sect. II. — Of the sight of the Invisible : Moses a fit pattern for it. Two ways
wherein he saw the Invisible. Our felicity consists in the sight of God :
the degrees of our spiritual sight : how sight and invisibility may consist
together.
Sect III. — How we may not think to see God : not by any feigned representation ;
not by the work of improved reason ; not in a full comprehension ; not here
in his divine essence, or height of resplendence. How Moses desired to see
the face of God.
Sect. IV. — How we must endeavour to see the Invisible :
i . That our eyes must be cleared from all hinderances of sight.
2. That blessed object must be set before our eyes.
Sect. V. — 3. There must be an exaltation and fortification of our sight.
4. There must be a trajection ofthe visual beams ofthe soul through
all earthly occurrences.
5 . A divine irradiation of the mind must follow : what light we must
conceive.
Sect. VI. — 6. The eye must be fixed upon this blessed object unremovably.
How this may be effected, and how far.
Three ways of our apprehension of God.
Sect. VII. — 7. There will follow a delight and complacency in that God whom we
see. Reprobates do rather see God's anger than himself.
Sect. VIII. — Motives to stir us up to strive to this happy sight : the act is reward
enough to itself.
1. This sight frees us from being transported with earthly vanities.
Sect. IX. — 2. It is a prevalent means to restrain us from sinning.
3. It upholds us in the constant suffering of evil.
Sect. X. — 4. It enters us into our heaven. This vision is not without a fruition :
not so in other objects.
Sect. XI. — Of the casting down our eyes to see our own wretchedness. How
frail we are, how sinful, in how woful condition by our sin.
BOOK II.
Sect. I. — What the fear of God is. A double stamp or signature in this impres
sion of fear.
1 . An inward adoration of God.
2. A filial care of being approved to God.
Sect. II. What inward adoration is ; wherein it consists, and how to be wrought.
OfGod's infinite greatness shown in the creation of the world, and the. go
vernment thereof; in the frame ofthe heaven, earth, sea, man himself.

326
Sect. III. — Of God's infinite mercy shown in the redemption of mankind.
Sect. IV. — Of the holy mixture of this fear : of the continuation and perpetuity
of it.
Sect. V. — Religious adoration diffused through our whole outward carriage in our
respects, i . To the holy name of God. The Jews' scruples. Our carelessness.
Sect. VI.— t. To the word of God.
Sect. VII. — 3. To the services of God, prayer, preaching, administration of sacra
ments.
Sect. VIII.— 4. To the house of God.
Sect. IX. — 5. To the messengers of God.
Sect. X." — Of the humble subjection of ourselres to the hand of God.
1 . In suffering from him meekly and patiently : the good examples
thereof.
1. In all changes of estates.
Sect. XI. — Of our childlike care of a secret approving ourselves to God, and
avoiding his displeasure : how we are affected after we have miscarried. The
holy jealousy and suspicion of God's children : this fear a retentive from
sin. Rifeness of sin an argument of the want of this fear. Wicked hearts
must have terrible remedies. The misplaced fear of profane men.
Sect. XII. — Of the filial endeavour of obedience in particular callings, arising from
this fear. The happy effects and issue of this fear.
Sect. XIII. — Of the extremes of this fear on both sides.
1. Whereof the first is security ; whence it ariseth. Of the abuse of God's
mercy in giving and forgiving.
¦t. Of the custom of sinning.
Sect. XIV. — Of the remedies of security.
Means to keep the heart tender.
Meditations of God's judgments and of our own frailties.
A resolution to repel the first motions of sin.
Care of speedy recovery after our fall.
Due heed not to check the conscience.
A right estimation of worldly things.
SEOT. XV, — Of presumption, another opposite to fear.
-r, j.- f ofthe wav.
Presumption, | oftheep^
1 . In matter of event.
¦z. In matter of ability i
Sect. XVI. — The remedies of presumption, in the several kinds of it.
1 . In respect of outward events ; of our due valuation of them.
Sect. XVII. — 2. In respect of abilities.
An exact survey of our grace.
The differences betwixt counterfeit virtues and true.
Sect. XVIII. — The remedy of our presumption of the end, which is salvation.
Of our modest consideration of the ways and counsels of God.
Sect. XIX. — The extremes on the other hand.
1. Ofthe fear of horror, how to be remedied.
Sect. XX. — 2. Of the fear of distrust, with the remedy thereof.
Conclusion.
A recapitulation of the whole.

OP THE
SIGHT AND FEAR OF THE ALMIGHTY.

THE PROEM.

Nothing is more easy to observe than that the mind of man,
being ever prone to extremities, is no sooner fetched off from
superstition, than it is apt to fall upon profaneness ; finding no
mean betwixt excess of devotion and an irreligious neglect. No
wise Christian, who hath so much as sojourned in the world, can
choose but feel, and with grief of heart confess this truth. We
are ready to think of God's matters as no better than our own :
and a saucy kind of famiharity this way hath bred a palpable
contempt ; so as we walk with the great God of heaven as with
our fellow, and think of his sacred ordinances as either some
common employment or fashionable superfluity. Out of an earnest
desire therefore to settle, in myself and others, right thoughts
and meet dispositions of heart towards the glorious and infinite
majesty of our God and his holy services, wherein we are all apt to
be too defective, I have put my pen upon this seasonable task ;
beseeching that Almighty God, whose work it is to bless it, both
in my hand and in the perusal of all readers ; whom I beseech to
know that I have written this, not for their eyes but for their
hearts, and therefore charge them, as they tender the good of
their own souls, not to rest in the bare speculation, but to work
themselves to a serious and sensible practice of these holy pre
scriptions, as without which they shall never have either true
hold of God or sound peace and comfort in their own souls. Come,
then, ye children, hearken unto me, and I shall teach you the
fear of the Lord, Ps. xxxiv. 1 1. There cannot be a fitter lesson
for me, in the improvement of my age, to read, nor for your
spiritual advantage, to take out : one glance of a thought of this
kind is worth a volume of quarrelsome litigation.
Section I.
As above, we shall need no words, when we shall be all spirit,
and our language shall be all thoughts ; so below, we cannot but
want words wherein to clothe the true notions of our hearts. I

328 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book I.
never yet could find a tongue that yielded any one term to notify
the awful disposition of the heart towards God. We are wont to
call it fear, but this appellation comes far too short ; for this
signifies an affection ; whereas this which we treat of is no other
than an excellent virtue, yea, a grace rather, yea rather, a precious
composition of many divine graces and virtues.
It is no marvel therefore if the Spirit of God have wont, under
this one word, to comprehend all that belongs either to the
apprehension or adoration of a God, Gen. xhi. 18; Deut. vi. 13;
Ps. xxv. 12; Eccl. xii. 13 : Ps. cxxviii. 1 : for this alone includes all
the humble constitution of an holy soul, and all the answerable
demeanour of a mortified creature ; neither is there any thing so
well becoming an heart sensible of infiniteness as this, which we
are fain to misname year.
To speak properly, there is no fear but of evil, and that which
we justly call servile ; which is a doubtful expectation of some
thing that may be hurtful to us ; and this, when it prevails, is
horror and dreadful confusion; an affection, or perturbation rather,
fit for the gallies or hell itself. Love casts it out, as that which
is ever accompanied with a kind of hate ; and so will we. We
are meditating of such a temper of the heart as in the continu
ance of it is attended with blessedness ; as in the exercise of it is
fixed upon infinite greatness and infinite goodness ; and in the mean
time is accompanied with unspeakable peace and contentment in
the soul: Ps. ciii. 17; cxxviii. 4; cxlvii. 11; Eccl. viii. 11.
And yet, whoso had a desire to retain the word, if our ethic
doctors would give him leave, might say, that affections well
employed upon excellent objects turn virtues. So love, though
commonly marshalled in those lower ranks of the soul, yet, when
it is elevated to the all-glorious God, is justly styled the highest
of theological virtues ; yea, when it rises but to the level of our
brethren, it is Christian charity : so grief for sin is holy penitence.
And what more heavenly grace can be incident to the soul than
joy in the Holy Ghost ? Neither is it otherwise with fear ; when
it is taken up with worldly occurrents of pain, loss, shame, it is
no better than a troublesome passion ; but when we speak of the
fear of God, the case and style is so altered, that the breast of a
Christian is not capable of a more divine grace.
But, not to dwell in syllables, nor to examine curious points of
morality, that which we speak of is no other than a reverential
awe of the holy and infinite Majesty of God, constantly and un-

Sect. II.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 329
removably settled in the soul ; a disposition so requisite, that he
who hath it cannot but be a saint, and he that hath it not is in a
sort without God in the world.
To the producing whereof there is need of a double appre
hension; the one, of an incomprehensible excellence and inseparable
presence of God ; the other, of a most miserable vileness, and, as it
were, nothingness of ourselves. The former is that which the
Spirit of God calls the sight of the Invisible ; for sight is a sense of
the quickest and surest perception ; so as in seeing of God we ap
prehend him infinitely glorious in all that he is, in all that he hath,
in all that he doth, and intimately present to us, with us, in us.
Section II.
Let us then, first, see what that sight is. Wherein we cannot
have a more meet pattern than Moses : that exposed infant, who
in his cradle of bulrushes was drawn out of the flags of Nilus, is
a true emblem of a regenerate soul, taken up out of the mercy a of
a dangerous world, in whose waves he is naturally sinking. He
that was saved from the^waters saw God in fire, and, in an holy
curiosity, hasted to see the bush that burned and consumed not :
let our godly zeal carry us as fast to see what he saw, and make
us eagerly ambitious of his eyes, of his art. Surely Moses, as
St. Stephen tells us, was learned in all the wisdom of the Egyp
tians ; he was not a greater courtier than a scholar : but Moses's
optics were more worth than all the rest of his skill. All Egypt,
and Chaldea to boot, though they were famous of old for mathe-
matic sciences, could not teach him this art of seeing the Invisible.
As only the sun gives us light to see itself, so only the invisible
God gives a man power to see himself that is invisible. There is
a threefold world objected tp human apprehension: a sensible
world, an intelligible, a spiritual or divine : and, accordingly, man
hath three sorts of eyes exercised about them ; the eye of sense,
for this outward and material world ; of reason, for the intelligible ;
of faith, for the spiritual. Moses had all these : by the eye of
sense he saw Pharaoh's court and Israel's servitude ; by the eye
of reason, he saw the mysteries of Egyptian learning; by the eye of
faith, he saw him that is invisible. In the eye of sense, even brute
creatures partake with him ; in the eye of reason, men ; in the
a [Mr. Pratt, in a note on this passage, it. I have restored the old reading, the
admits that all the copies read "mercy," sense being sufficiently plain : "The ten -
but nevertheless substitutes "misery" for der mercies of the wicked are cruel."]

330 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book I.
faculty of discerning spiritual and divine things, only saints and
angels. Doubtless Mose3 was herein privileged above other men.
Two ways therefore did he see the Invisible : first, by viewing
the visible signs and sensible representations of God's presence;
as in the bush of Horeb, the hill of visions; in the fire and cloud,
in the mount of Sinai : secondly, by his own spiritual apprehen
sion. That first was proper to Moses as an eminent favourite of
God ; this other must be common to us with him. That we may
then attain to the true fear and fruition of God, we must see him
that is invisible ; as travellers here, as comprehensors hereafter.
How we shall see him in his and our glorious home we cannot yet
hope to comprehend : when we come there to see him, we shall
see and know how and how much we see him, and not till then.
In the mean time, it must be our main care to bless our eyes with
Moses's object, and, even upon earth, to aspire to the sight of the
Invisible. This is an act wherein indeed our chief felicity consists. It is a
curiously witty disquisition ofthe schools, since all beatitude consists
in the fruition of God, Whether we more essentially, primarily,
and directly enjoy God in the act of understanding, which is by
seeing him, than in the act of will, which is by loving him : and
the greatest masters, for aught I see, pitch upon the understand
ing, in the full sight of God ; as whose act is more noble and ab
solute, and the union wrought by it more perfect. If any man
desire to spend thoughts upon this divine curiosity, I refer him to
the ten reasons which the doctor Solennisb gives and rests in for
the decision of this point. Surely these two go so close together
in the separated soul, that it is hard, even in thought, to distin
guish them. If I may not rather say that, as there is no imagi
nable composition in that spiritual essence, so its fruition of God is
made up of one simple act alone, which here results out of two
distinct faculties. It is enough for us to know, that if all perfection
of happiness and full union with God consists in the seeing of him
in his glory, then it is and must be our begun happiness to see
him as we may here below. He can never be other than he is ;
our apprehension of him varies. Here, we can only see him darkly,
as in a glass; there, clearly, and as he is.
Even here below there are degrees, as of bodily, so of spiritual
sight. The newly-recovered blind man saw men like trees ; the
b [Johan. de Neapoli. q. 14. [ed. Neap. 1618. p. 114.]

Sect. III.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 331
eyes of true sense see men like men. The illuminated eyes of
Elisha and his servant saw angels environing them ; St. Stephen's
eyes saw heaven opened, and Jesus standing at the right hand of
God, Acts vii. 56. The clear eyes of Moses see the God of angels :
St. Paul's eyes saw the unutterable glories of the third heaven.
Still, the better eyes the brighter vision.
But what a contradiction is here, in seeing the Invisible ! If
invisible, how seen? and if seen, how invisible? Surely, God is a
most pure and simple spiritual essence. Here is no place for
that, not so much heresy, as stupid conceit, of Anthropomorphism.
A bodily eye can only see bodies, like itself ; the eye must answer
the object : a spiritual object, therefore, as God is, must be seen
by a spiritual eye. Moses's soul was a spirit ; and that saw the
God of spirits : so he, that is in himself invisible, was seen by an
invisible eye ; and so must be. If we have no eyes but those that
are seen, we are as very beasts as those that we see ; but if we
have invisible and spiritual eyes, we must improve them to the
sight of him that is invisible. Section III.
Let us then, to the unspeakable comfort of our souls, inquire
and learn how we may here upon earth see the invisible God.
And, surely, as it was wisely said of him of old, that it is more
easy to know what God is not, than what he is; so it may be
justly said also, of the vision of God, it is more obvious to say
how God is not seen, than how he is. Let us, if you please, begin
with the negative.
We may not, therefore, think to see God by any fancied repre
sentation. He will admit of no image of himself ; no, not in
thought. All possibly conceivable ideas and similitudes, as they
are infinitely too low, so they are clean contrary to his spiritual
nature and his express charge; and the very entertainment of
any of them is no other than a mental idolatry. In the very holy
of holies, where he would most manifest his presence, there was
nothing to be seen but a cloud of smoke ; as the poetc, scoffingly ;
and as that great kingd professed to see there; to teach his people,
that he would not be conceived any way, but in an absolute
immunity from all forms.
Secondly, we may not hope to see God by the working of our
improved reason : for, as intelligible things are above the appre-
c Nil prater nubes. Jnv. S. XIV. 97. d Alex. Mag.

332 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book I.
hension of sense, so divine matters are no less above the capacity
of understanding. Justly is Durand exploded here ; who held,
that a created understanding was of itself sufficient for the vision
of God without supernatural aid ; for whatever our soul under
stands here, it doth it by the way of those phantasms which are
represented unto it ; by which it is not possible there should be
any comprehension of this Infinite Essence. Every power works
within the compass of his own sphere, even from the lowest of
sense to the highest of faith. If the eye should encroach upon
the ear, in affecting to discern the delicate air of pleasant sounds ;
and the ear should usurp upon the eye, in professing to judge of a
curious picture or pleasant prospect ; it were an absurd ambition
of both. It is all one, for a beast to take upon him to judge of
matter of discourse, and for a philosopher to determine of matters
of faith. Reason was not given to man for nought : even that can
impart unto us something concerning God, but not enough. I re
member Gersone, a great master of contemplation, professes that
he knew one, (which is, in St. Paul's phrase, himself,) who, after
many temptations of doubt, concerning a main article of faith,
was suddenly brought into so clear a light of truth and certitude,
that there remained no relics at all of dubitation, nothing but
confidence and serenity; which, saith he, was wrought by an
hearty humiliation, and captivation of the understanding to the
obedience of faith ; neither could any reason be given of that
quiet and firm peace in believing, but his own feeling and expe
rience. And surely so it is in this great business of seeing God :
the less we search, and the more we believe, the clearer vision do
we attain of him that is invisible.
Neither, thirdly, may we hope here to aspire to a perfect sight
or a full comprehension of this blessed object. The best of all
earthly eyes doth but look through a scarf at this glorious sight,
and complains of its own weakness and obscurity : and what hope
can we have to compass this infinite prospect ? The clearest eye
cannot at once see any round body, if it be but of a small bullet
or ring : and when we say we see a man, we mean, that we see
but his outside ; for, surely, his heart, or lungs, or brain, are out
of our sight : much less can we see his soul, by which he is.
What speak I of the poor narrow conceit of us mortals 1 I need
not fear to say, that tho glorified saints and glorious angels of
« Jo. Gerson de Distinctione Verarum Visioniim k Falsis. [Signum Vm. Ed. 1 5 1 4.
XIX. A.]

Sect. III.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 333
heaven, being but of a finite though spiritual nature, hold it no
disparagement to disclaim the capacity of this Infinite Object ;
much less may we think to drain this ocean with our egg-shell.
Lastly, we may not make account here, to see the face of God
in his divine essence, or in the height of the resplendence of his
glory. This, even Moses himself did not : he desired it indeed,
but it might not be yielded; Exodus xxxiii. 18, 20: and God
tells him this was no object for mortal eyes : a man must die to
see it ; as Austin, well. Indeed it is said Moses spake to God
face to face ; the word in the original is Q^S ?N CSS , faces to
faces : but ye never read, that he saw God face to face : he
still conferred with that oracle which was ever invisible. It is a
poor conceit of Cornelius a Lapide, that Moses longed so much to
see the face of God in some assumed form; for then that face
should not have been his : and if God should have been pleased
to assume such a form, it had been no less easy for him to have
made the face aspectable as the back. In this sense, old Jacob
calls his altar Penu-el, the face of God, and professes to have seen
God face to face, Gen. xxxii. 30 : his face saw that face which
God had for the present assumed, without a present death.
Doubtless, Moses having seen divers veils of God's presence,
that is, sensible testimonies of his being there, desires now to see
that glorious majesty of God open-faced, without those masks of
outward representation. So he interprets himself, while he ex
presses TpSD thy face, by T|'"Tl3 thy glory, Exod. xxxiii. 18.
The desire was zealously ambitious : too high even for him that
had been twice blessed with forty days' conference with the God
whom he longed to see. Much less may we think of aspiring to
this sight, who must know our distance, even from the foot of the
mount. It is abundantly enough for us, if out of some small loop
hole of the rock we may be allowed, in his passage, to see some
after glimpses of that incomprehensible Majesty ; to see him, both
as we can be capable, and as he will be visible : that is, as he hath
revealed himself to us in his word, in his works, in his wonderful
attributes : in his word, as a most glorious spiritual substance, in
three equally glorious subsistences : in his works, as the most
mighty Creator and munificent Preserver ; as the most merciful
Redeemer of the world; as the most gracious Comforter and
Sanctifier of the world of his elect : in his attributes, as the God
of spirits ; whose infinite power, wisdom, mercy, justice, truth,

334 The Remedy qf Profaneness. [Book L
goodness, is essential; so as he is all these abstractedly, uncom-
poundedly, really, infinitely.
Shortly, therefore, we may not look here to see him by the eye
of fancy, or by the eye of reason, or in a full view, or in the height
of his glory.
Let us then, in the next place, see how we may and must see
him. Section IV.
Would we therefore see him that is invisible ?
In the first place, we must have our eyes cleared from the na
tural indisposition to which they are subject.
We have all, in nature, many both inward and ambient hinder-
ances of the sight. There is a kind of earthliness in the best eye,
whereby it is gouled up, that it cannot so much as open itself to
see spiritual things : these are our carnal affections. There is a
dimness and duskiness in the body of the eye when it is opened ;
which is our natural ignorance of heavenly things. There is, be
sides these, a film, which is apt to grow over our eye, of natural
infidelity, which makes it incapable of this divine vision. And,
after all these, when it is at the clearest, the moats and dust of
worldly thoughts are apt to trouble our sight. Lastly, every
known sin wherein a man willingly continues is a beam in the
eye that bars all sight of God: In malevolam animam{, fyc.
" Wisdom enters not into an ill-doing soul :" and, Malitia occwcat
intellectum; Wickedness blinds the understanding ; as the Wise
Man of old.
There must be a removal and remedy of all these, ere we can
attain to a comfortable vision of the Invisible. The goule of our
eyes must be washed off ; and if we cannot, by our utmost endea
vours, lift up our eyelids as we ought, we must sue to him that
can do it : Aperi oculos ; Open thou mine eyes, that I may see the
wonderful things of thy laiv. The dimness and duskiness of our
eyes must be cleared by that eyesalve of the Spirit, Rev. iii. 18.
The film of our infidelity must be scoured off by the cleansing
waters of Siloam, the fountain of divine truth welhng out of the
holy Scriptures. The motes and dust of worldly cares must be
wiped out by a contemptuous and holy resolution. The beam of
sin, lastly, must be pulled out by a serious repentance.
So then, if there be any of us that makes account to see God,
1 Els naic6T(xvov ipvxfy. Wisd. i. 4.

Sect. V.] Tlie Remedy of Profaneness. 335
while he is taken up with sensual affections, while he is blinded
with his natural ignorance and infidelity, while he is seized upon
by worldly cares and distractions, while he harbours any known
sin in his bosom, he doth but deceive his own soul. Away with all
these impediments, that we may be capable of the vision of God.
In the second place, we must set this blessed object before our
eyes, resolving of the certainty of his presence with us. Or rather,
we must set ourselves before him who is ever unremovably be
fore us, with us, in us ; acknowledging him with no less assurance
of our faith than we acknowledge the presence of our own bodies
by the assurance of sense. For how shall we suppose we can see
him that is absent from us? No man will say he sees the sun
when it is out of our hemisphere.
That infinite God therefore, who cannot but be every where,
must be acknowledged to be ever, in a glorious manner, present
with us ; manifesting his presence most eminently in the high
heavens, and yet filling both heaven and earth with the majesty of
his glory. In him it is that we live, and move, and have our being.
He comprehends the whole world, himself being only incompre
hensible ; secluded from no place, included in no place ; nearer to
us than our own souls : when we die, we part from them ; from
him we cannot part, with whom remoteness of place can make no
difference, time no change.
When the heart is thus throughly assured, it is in a fair way to
see the invisible ; for now, after all the former impediments, the
hinderance of distance is taken away, and nothing remaineth,
but that the eye be so affected and employed hereabouts as it
ought. Section V.
To which purpose, in the third place, there must be an ex
altation and a fortification of our sight : an exaltation, raising it
above our wonted pitch ; for our heart is so inured and confined
to bodily objects, that, except it be somewhat raised above itself,
it is not capable of spiritual things : a fortification of our sight, so
raised ; for our visive beams are at our best so weak, that they
are not able to look upon a sight so spiritually glorious. Alas !
we cannot so much as look upon the sunbeams but we are dazzled
and blinded with that which gives us opportunity of sight : how
shall we be able to behold the infinite resplendence of Him that
made it?
St. Stephen was a true eagle. That blessed protomartyr's

336 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book I.
cleared, exalted, fortified sight, pierced the heavens, and saw
Jesus standing at the right-hand of God. Whence was this vigour
and perspicacity ? He was full of the Holy Ghost. That Spirit
of God, that was within him, gave both clearness and strength, in
such miraculous manner, to the eyes of him who should straightway
see as he was seen ; who should instantly, by the eye of his glorified
soul, no less see the incomprehensible majesty of God the Father,
than now, by his bodily eye, he saw the glorified body of the Son of
God. It must be the only work of the same Spirit of God within
us, that must enable us, both to the faculty and exercise of seeing
the Invisible.
For the performance whereof, there must be, in the fourth
place, a trajection of the visual beams of the soul, through all
earthly occurrences, terminating them only in God : as now, we
look through the air at any object, but our sight passes through
it, and rests not in it. While we are here, we cannot but see the
world ; even the holiest eye cannot look off it; but it is to us, as
the vast air is betwixt us and the starry heaven, only for passage.
All is translucid till the sight arrive there. There it meets with
that solid object of perfect contentment and happiness wherewith
it is throughly bounded.
When it hath therefore attained thither, there must be, in the
fifth place, a certain divine irradiation of the mind, which is now
filled and taken up with a lightsome apprehension of an infinite
Majesty, of a glory incomprehensible and boundless; attended
and adored by millions of heavenly angels and glorified spirits.
Whereto way must be made, by the conceit of a transcendent
light, wherein God dweiieth; as far above this outward light
which we see, as that is above darkness : for, though we may not
in our thoughts liken God to any created brightness, be it never
so glorious ; yet nothing forbids us to think of the place of his
eternal habitation as infinitely resplendent above the comparison
of those beams which any creature can cast forth. He is clothed,
saith the Psalmist, with light, as with a garment. Lo, when we
cannot see a man's soul, yet we may see his body ; and when we
cannot see the body, yet we may see the clothes : even so, though
we may not think to see the essence of God, yet we may see and
conceive of this his resplendent garment of light.
Far be it therefore from us, when we would look up to a Deity,
to have our eyesight terminated in a gloomy opacity and sad
darksomeness, which hath no affinity with any appendance of that

Sect. VI.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 337
divine Majesty, who hath thought good to describe itself by Light.
Let our hearts adore such an infinite Spirit, as that the light
wherein he dwells is inaccessible ; the light which he hath, and
is, is inconceivable ; and rather rest themselves in an humble and
devout adoration of what they cannot know, than weary them
selves with a curious search of what they cannot comprehend. A
simple and meek kind of astonishment and admiration beseems us
here better than a bold and busy disquisition. But if this outward
light, which of all visible creatures comes nearest the nature of a
spirit, shall seem too material to express the glory of that blessed
habitation of the Highest ; let the mind labour to apprehend an
intellectual light, which may be so to our understanding as this
bodily light is to our sense, purely spiritual and transcendently
glorious ; and let it desire to wonder at that which it can never
conceive. How should this light be inaccessible if it were such
as either our sense or reason could attain unto ?
Section VI.
When we attend to this comfortable and heavenly illumination,
there must be, in the sixth place, a fixing of the eye upon this
beatifical object, so as it may be free from distraction and
wandering. Certainly there is nothing more apt to be miscarried
than the eye ; every new sight wins it away from that which last
allured it. It is not hard nor unusual to have some sudden short
glimpses of this happy vision, which yet the next toy fetches off,
and makes us to forget, like as the last wave washeth off the im
pression of the former. What are we the better for this, than
that patient, who, having the film too early raised from his eye,
sees the light for the present, but shall never see any more 1
Would we see God to purpose ? when we have once set eye upon
him, we may not suffer ourselves by any means to lose the sight
of him again, but must follow it still with a constant and eager
intention: like as the disciples of Christ, when they had fixed
their eyes upon their ascending Saviour, could not be taken off
with the presence of angels, but sent their eye-beams after him
into heaven so earnestly, that the reproof of those glorious spirits
could hardly pull them off.
You are now ready to tell me, this is a fit task for us when we '
are in our heaven, and to plead the difficulty of such our settle
ment in this region of change, where our eyes cannot but be
forced aside with the necessity of our worldly occasions : and to
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. Z

338 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book I.
question the possibility of viewing two objects at once — God and
the world : not considering, that herein lies the improvement of
the Christian's skill in these divine optics. The carnal eye looks
through God at the world : the spiritual eye looks through the
world at God : the one of those he seeth mediately ; the other,
terminatively : neither is it, in nature, hard to conceive, how we
may see two such objects, as whereof one is in the way to the
other ; as through a perspective glass we can see a remote mark;
or through a thin cloud we can see heaven. Those glorious an
gels of heaven are never without the vision of God ; yet, being
ministering spirits for the good of his elect, here below, they must
needs take notice of these earthly occurrents : the variety of these
sublunary objects cannot divert their thoughts from their Maker.
Although also, to speak distinctly, the eye, thus employed, is not
the same : nothing hinders, but that, while the bodily sees a body,
the spiritual eye may see a spirit : as, when a loadstone is pre
sented to my view, the eye of my sense sees the body and fa
shion of the stone, my eye of reason sees the hidden virtue which
is in it. Both these kinds of eyes may be thus fixed upon their
several objects, without any intersection of the visual lines of each
other. But, that no man may think God hath so little respect to our
infirmities as to impose upon us impossible tasks, we must know,
that, since tbe soul of man in this state of frail mortality is not
capable of a perpetual act of such an intuition of God, here is ne
cessary use of a just distinction.
As the school therefore is wont to distinguish of intentions, so
must we here of the apprehension of God ; which is either actual
or habitual or virtual : actual when our cogitations are taken up
and directly employed in the meet consideration of the blessed
Deity, and the things thereto appertaining : habitual, when we
have a settled kind of holy disposition, and aptitude inclining us
ever to these divine thoughts ; ready still to bring them forth
into act upon every least motion : virtual, betwixt both these, being
neither so quick and agile as the actual, nor yet so dull and flag
ging as the habitual, which may be incident to a man whether
sleeping or otherwise busied : when, by the power of an heavenly
disposition wrought in the mind, wc arc so affected, as that divine
thoughts are become the constant, though insensible, guests of the
soul; whilo the virtue of that original illumination sticks still by
us, and is, in a sort, derived into all our subsequent cogitations ;

Sect. VI.] The Remedy qf Profaneness. 339
leaving in them perpetual remainders of the holy effects of the
deeply wrought and well grounded apprehension of God : as, in
a pilgrim towards the Holy Land there are not always actual
thoughts concerning his way or end ; yet there is still an habitual
resolution to begin and compass that journey ; and a secret
power of his continued will to put forward his steps to that pur
pose ; there being a certain impression remaining in the motive
faculty, which still insensibly stirs him towards the place desired :
neither is it unusual, even in nature, to see many effects continu
ing when the motion of the cause by which they were wrought
ceaseth ; as, when some deep bell is rung to the height the noise
continues some time in the air after the clapper is silent ; or
when a stone is cast into the water the circles that are caused
by it are enlarged and multiplied after the stone lies still in the
bottom. However therefore we cannot hope in this life, through our
manifold weaknesses and distractions, to attain unto the steady
continuance of the actual view of Him that is invisible ; yet, to
the habitual and virtual power of apprehending him, we may,
through the goodness of Him whom we strive to see, happily
aspire. Neither may we be wanting to ourselves in taking all occasions
of renewing these our actual visions of God, both set and casual.
There is nothing that we can see which doth not put us in mind
of God : what creature is there wherein we do not espy «ome
footsteps of a Deity? every herb, flower, leaf, in our garden,
every bird and fly in the air, every ant and worm in the ground,
every spider in our window, speaks the omnipotence and infinite
wisdom of their Creator. None of these may pass us without
some fruitful monition of acknowledging a Divine hand. But
besides these, it will be requisite for us every morning to season
our thoughts with a serious renovation of our awful apprehensions
of God, aud not to take off our hand till we have wrought our
hearts to some good competency of right and holy conceits of
that glorious Majesty; the efficacy whereof may dilate itself to
the whole following day, which may be often revived by our fre
quent ejaculations. But, above all other, when we have to do
with God, in the set immediate exercises of his services and our
heavenly devotions, we must endeavour, to our utmost, to sharpen
our eyes to a spiritual perspicacity ; striving to see him whom
we speak unto, and who speaks unto us, as he hath pleased to re-
z 2

340 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book I.
veal himself. But, over and beside all these, even when we have
no provocations from any particular occasion, it must be our con
tinual care to labour with our God that it would please him to
work us to such an holy and heavenly disposition, as that, what
ever our employments may be, we may never want the comfort of
a virtual and habitual enjoying the sight of God ; so as the power
and efficacy of our first, well-taken apprehension may run on
through all the following actions and events, both of our life and
death. Section VII.
Upon this constant fixedness of our thoughts on God, there can
not but follow, in the seventh place, a marvellous delight and
complacency of the soul in so blessed an object. Neither is it
easy to determine whether of these do more justly challenge a
precedency in the heart : whether the eye be so fixed, because it
is well pleased with the sight ; or whether it be so pleased and
ravished with that happy sight, because it is so fixed. Whatso
ever these two are in the order of nature, I am sure, in time, they
are inseparable : neither is it possible for any man to see God as
interested in him, and not to love him and take pleasure in him.
As a stranger, as an enemy, or avenger, even devils and reprobate
souls behold him, to their regret and torment ; if I may not say,
they rather see his anger and judgment than himself: but never
eye can see him as his God, and not be taken with infinite delight :
for that absolute goodness, out of which no man can contemplate
God, can be no other than infinitely amiable. And if, in the see
ing of God, we be, as the school hath taught us to speak, unitively
carried into him, how can we choose but in this act be affected
with joy unspeakable and glorious? In thy presence, saith the
Psalmist, is the fulness of joy ; and at thy right hand are plea
sures for evermore.
In sum, therefore ; if, when our eyes, being freed from all na
tural indispositions and both inward and outward impediments, we
have so this blessed object presented before us, as that there is an
exaltation and fortification of our sight ; and thereupon a trajec-
tion of the visual beams through all earthly occurrents, and a di
vine irradiation of the understanding, and a steadfast, fixing of the
eye upon this happy object without wandering and distraction, not
without a wonderful delight and joy in the God of all comfort
whom wo apprehend ; we do now effectually borrow Moses's eyes,
and, as he did, see the Invisible.

Sect. VIII.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 341
Section VIII.
But as all good things are difficult, and all difficulties full of dis
couragement unless they be matched with a countervailable bene
fit, in which cases they do rather whet than turn the edge of our
desires, let us see what considerations of profit, arising from this
noble act, may stir up our languishing hearts to the endeavour
and performance thereof.
There are actions, which, carrying nothirig but danger and
trouble in the mouth of them, had need to be drawn on with the
promise of an external reward. There are those which carry in
them their own recompense : such is this we have in hand.
What can there be out of itself so good as it ? When we take pains
to put ourselves into some theatre or court, or some pompous
triumph, we have no other end but to see ; and yet, how poor
and unsatisfying is that spectacle, and such as wherein our frivo
lous curiosity shuts up in emptiness and discontentment ! How
justly then are we ambitious of this prospect, wherein, to but see
is to be blessed ! It is no news to see wantons transported from
themselves with the sight of a beautiful face ; though such
perhaps as wherein they can never hope to have any interest ;
and some curious eyes no less taken with an exquisite picture ;
which yet shall never be theirs : how can we be other than
ravished with a heavenly delight and pleasure in so seeing the
infinite beauty of the God of spirits as that our sight cannot be
severed from fruition ? The act itself is an abundant remunera
tion ; yet doth it not want many sweet and beneficial conse
quences, which do justly quicken our desires to attain unto the
practice of it.
Whereof it is not the meanest, that whoever hath happily as
pired thereunto cannot be carried away with earthly vanities.
What poor things are these in comparison of those invisible
glories ! Alas ! what was the pleasure and riches of the court of
Egypt in the eyes of Moses when he had once seen his God ? It
is a true word, that of the chancellor of Paris ; " When a man
hath tasted once of the Spirit, all flesh is savourlesss." Surely,
when once the chosen vessel had been rapt into the third heaven,
and seen those unutterable magnificencies of the Divine Majesty,
who can wonder, if he looked, ever after, with scorn and pity,
e Gustato Spiritu, desipit omnis caro. Gers de 4. Domibus. [Serm. de Sp.
Sancto xlix. K. Argent. 1514.]

342 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book I.
upon all the glittering poverty of this inferior world? Go then,,
ye poorly-great ones of the world, and admire the piles of your
treasures, the statehness of your structures, the sound of your
titles, the extent of your territories : but know, that he who hath
seen the least glimpse of the Invisible knows how to commiserate
your felicity ; and wonders what ye can see in all these worth
your admiration and pursuit. What joy and triumph was among
the Jews, when they saw the foundation of the second temple
laid ! yet those aneient priests and Levites, whose eyes had seen
the glory of the former temple, wept, and cried as loud as the
rest shouted. Those that know no better may rejoice and exult
in these worldly contentments ; but those who have had but a
blink of the beauty of heaven can look upon them no otherwise
than with an overly contemptuousness. I wonder not, if good old
Simeon were content to have his eyes closed for ever when he
had once seen the Son of God : whatever he should see afterwards
would but abase those eyes that had been blessed with the face
of his Saviour. It was no ill conceit of the wise orator, that he
who had once known and considered the magnitude of the world
could never after admire any thing : surely, we may more justly
say, that he who hath duly taken into his thoughts the consider
ation of the infinite power, wisdom, goodness, of the great God of
the world, cannot think the world itself worthy of his wonder.
As some great peer, therefore, that hath been used ta stately
shows and courtly magnificence, doth not vouchsafe so much as to
cast his eye towards the mean worthless gewgaws of a pedlar's
stall, which yet silly children behold with great pleasure and admi
ration ; so the soul that hath been inured to the sight of the Di
vine Majesty scorns to suffer itself to be transported with the
trash and toys of this vain and transitory world.
Section IX.
No whit inferior to this benefit is the second ; that this sight of
the Invisible is a notable and prevalent means to restrain us from
sinning : for, how dares he sin that sees God ever before him ?
whom he knows of so pure eyes, that he detests the least motion
to evil ; of so almighty power, as to revenge it everlastingly ? It
was a poor thought of him, who yet could know no better, that he
who would dissuade himself from a secret wickedness should sup
pose a grave Cato, or some other such austere frowning censor, to
be by him, looking upon his actions : as if the shame or fear of such

Sect. IX.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 343
a witness were a sufficient coercion from evil. He that hath no
eyes to see a God may scare himself with the imagined sight of a
man somewhat better than himself; but he who hath the grace to
see the Invisible finds a stronger restraint in that presence than if
he were looked on by millions of witnesses, judges, executioners.
Yet, as this sight is mutual, (ours of God, and God's of us,) the
good heart finds a more powerful restriction in his seeing of God
than in God's seeing of him : if there be more fear in this, there
is more love in the other : for, since this holy vision of God is ever
joined with some warmth of good affection to that prime and infinite
goodness, the very apprehension of that unspeakable loveliness
which is in him more effectually curbeth all evil desires in us_, than
the expectation of any danger that can threaten us : How can I
do this great evil, and sin against God ? saith good Joseph, Gen.
xxxix. 9. The sin affrights him more than the suffering; and
the offence of a God more than his own danger.
The Spirit of God hath thought fit to specify the third benefit,
upon occasion of the mention of Moses's vision of God : He en
dured, as seeing him who is invisible. As this sight therefore
hath power to withhold us from doing evil, so also to uphold us
in the suffering of evil. What but cheerfulness and ease could
holy Stephen find in the stones of his enraged murderers, when,
through that hailstorm, he could see his Jesus, standing at the
right hand of God, ready to revenge and crown him ? What a
pleasing walk did the three children find in Nebuchadnezzar's
furnace, while the Son of God made up the fourth ! What bath
was so suppling and delightful, as the rack of Theodorus the
martyr, while God's angel wiped and refreshed his distended
joints ? With what confidence and resolution did the father of the
faithful break through all troubles and temptations, when he
heard God say, Fear not, Abraham, I am thy shield, and thy
exceeding great reivard ! Gen. xv. 1. Certainly, all fear and
discouragement arises from a conceit of our own weakness and
an adversary's power and advantage : take away these two, and
the mind of man remains undaunted. And both these vanish at
the sight of the Invisible ; for, what weakness can we apprehend
when God is our strength, or what adversary can we fear when
the Almighty is with us ? Good Hezekiah was never so much
scared with all the bravings of Rabshakeh as when he said, Am
I come up hither without the Lord? Had God taken part
against his degenerated people, what could the arm of flesh have

344 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book I.
availed for their defence ? as, contrarily, when he strikes in, what
can the gates of hell do ? Is it multitude that can give us courage ?
as Elisha's servant said ; There are more with ns. than against
us. Is it strength 1 behold, the weakness of God is stronger than
men. than devils. How justly do we contemn all visible powers
when we sec the Invisible ! when we see him, not empty handed,
but standing ready with a crown of glory to reward our conquest.
Vincenti dabitur, Rev. ii. 7. To him that overcomes it shall be
given. Are we therefore persecuted for professing the truth. of
the gospel, and cast into a dark and desolate dungeon where no
glimmering of light is allowed to look in upon us ; where we are
so far from being suffered to see our friends, that we cannot see
so much as the face of our keeper ? Lo, even there and thence
we may yet see the Invisible, and, in spite of malice, in his light
we can see light. Do we lie groaning upon the painful bed of
our sickness, closing our curtains about us to keep out the light,
which now grows offensive to our sight? yea, doth death begin
to seize upon our eyes, and to dim and thicken our sight, so as
now we cannot discern our dearest friends that stand ready to
close them for us ? yet even then may we most clearly see the
Invisible ; and that sight is able to cheer us up against all the
pangs and terrors of death, and to make us triumph even in
dying. Section X.
Lastly, what other doth this vision of God but enter us into
our heaven ? Blessed are the pure in heart, saith our Saviour
upon the Mount, for they shall see God. Lo, he that only can
give blessedness hath promised it to the pure ; and he that best
knows wherein blessedness consists tells us it is in the seeing of
God. The blessed spirits above, both angels and souls of the
departed saints, see him clearly, without any veil drawn over
their glorified eyes : we, wretched pilgrims here on earth, must
see him as we may : there is too much clay in our eyes, and too
many and too gross vapours of ignorance and infidelity betwixt
us and him, for a full and perfect vision ; yet, even here, we see
him truly, though not clearly ; and the stronger our faith is, the
clearer is our sight ; and the clearer our sight is, the greater is
our measure of blessedness.
Neither is it a mere presence, or a bare simple vision, which
doth cither inchoate or perfect our happiness. We find there
was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves be-

Sect. X.] The Remedy qf Profaneness. 345
fore the Lord, and Satan came also among them; Job i. 6: and
the'wicked's eyes shall see him whom they have pierced, Zech. xii.
10 : we see so much of God, in the way of our bliss, as we enjoy.
i know not how the eye, in these spiritual objects, betwixt which
aid us there is a gracious relation, hath a certain kind of appli-
catory faculty, which in these material things it wanteth ; 0 taste
and see, saith the Psalmist, how sweet the Lord is; as if our
sight^were more inwardly apprehensive of heavenly pleasures than
our most sensible gustation.
In these bodily objects, either there is no operation upon the
sense, or to no purpose. The eye is never the warmer for seeing
a fire afar off, nor the colder for beholding ice : we are no whit
th enrich er foreseeing heaps of treasure, nor the fairer for viewing
another's beauty. But such a powerful and glorious influence
there is of God into our spiritual senses, that we cannot see him
by the eye of our faith here, and not be the happier ; we cannot
see him above, by the eye of our separated souls, and not be per
fectly glorious : and the one of these doth necessarily make way
for the other ; for what is grace here, but glory begun ? and what
is glory above, but grace perfected ?
Whosoever therefore here hath pitched the eye of his faith
upon the Invisible doth but continue his prospect when he comes
to heaven. The place is changed; the object is the same; the
act more complete. As then we do ever look to have our eyes
blessed with the perpetual vision of God in the highest heavens,
let us acquaint them beforehand with the constant and continual
sight of him in this vale of mortality.
No sooner have our eyes been thus lifted up above the hills to
the sight of the Invisible, than they must be instantly cast down,
and turned inwards, to see our own wretchedness ; how weak and
poor we are ; how frail ; how vain and momentary ; how desti
tute of all good ; how obnoxious to all sin and misery. Contra
rieties make all things better discerned. And surely, however it
be commonly seen that the nearness ofthe object is an hinderance
to the sight, yet here, the more closely we behold our own con
dition, the more clearly we shall discern, and the more fully shall
we be convinced of this unpleasing truth. It is not for us to look
back, like the heirs of some decayed house, at what we were :
who ever was the better for a past happiness ?
Alas ! what are we now? miserable dust and ashes; earth, at
the best ; at the worst, hell. Our being is vanity ;- our substance,

346 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
corruption : our life is but a blast ; our flesh, worms-meat : our
beginning impotent, above all creatures ; (even worms can crawl
forward so soon as they are, so cannot we;) our continuance,
short and troublesome ; our end, grievous : who can assure him
self of one minute of time, of one dram of contentment ?
But, woe is me ! other creatures are frail too, none but man
is sinful. Our soul is not more excellent than this tainture of it
is odious and deadly. Our composition lays us open to mortality,
but our sin exposes us to the eternal wrath of God and the issue
of it, eternal damnation. The grave waits for us, as men; hell,
as sinners. Beasts compare with us in our being ; in our sinning,
devils insult over us.
And now, since the spring is foul, how can the streams be
clear ? Alas ! what act of ours is free from this Woful pollution ?
Who eats, or drinks, or sleeps, or moves, or talks, or thinks, or
hears, or prays, without it? Even he that was blessed with the
sight of the third heaven, as tired with this clog, could say, 0
wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from this body
of death ? Blessed apostle, if thou wert so sensible of thy in
dwelling corruptions, who knewest nothing by thyself, how must
our hearts needs rend with shame and sorrow, who are guilty of
so many thousand transgressions, which our impotence can neither
avoid nor expiate ! How justly do we fear God, since we have
deserved to be under so deep a condemnation !

BOOK II.
Of the Sight and Fear of Almighty God.
Section I.
Thus, therefore, when a man shall have steadfastly fixed his eyes
upon the dread majesty of an ever present God, and upon the de
plored wretchedness of his own condition, he shall be in a meet
capacity to receive this holy fear whereof we treat. Neither in
deed is it possible for him to see that all-glorious presence, and
not presently thereupon find himself affected with a trembling
kind of awfulness; neither can be look upon his own vileness
without an humble and bashful dejection of soul ; but when he
shall see both these at once, and compare his own shameful estate
with the dreadful incomprehensible majesty of the great God ; his
own impotence, with that almighty Power ; his own sinfulness, with
that infinite purity and justice ; his own misery, with the glory of

Sect. II.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 347
that immense mercy : how can he choose but be wholly possessed
with a devout shivering and religious astonishment ? The heart
then, thus tempered with the high thoughts of a God, and the
humble conceits of ourselves, is fit for the impression of this^ear;
which is no other than an awful disposition of the soul to God.
Wherein there is a double stamp and signature ; the one is' an
inward adoration of the Majesty seen and acknowledged ; the
other, a tender and filial care of being secretly approved of God ;
and of avoiding the displeasure and offence of that God whom we
so adore. The first is a continual bowing the knees of our~hearts
to that great and holy God ; both inwardly blessing and praising
him in all his divine attributes, in his infinite power, wisdom, justice,
mercy, and truth ; and humbly submitting and resigning ourselves
wholly to his divine pleasure in all things, whether for his dis
posing or chastising. Section II.
All true adoration begins from within. Even the soul hath the
same parts and postures with the body : as therefore it hath eyes
to see, so it hath a tongue to speak unto, and a knee to bend unto
the majesty of the Almighty. Shortly, then, we shall inwardly
adore the God of heaven when our hearts are wrought to be
awfully affected to the acknowledgment chiefly of his infinite great
ness and infinite goodness. And this shall be best done by the
consideration of the effects of both. Even in meaner matters we
cannot attain to the knowledge of things by their causes, but are
glad to take up with this secondary information ; how much more
in the highest of all causes, in whom there is nothing but trans
cendency and infiniteness !
We shall therefore most feelingly adore the infinite greatness
of God, upon representing unto ourselves the wonderful work of
his creation ; and his infinite goodness, in the no less wonderful
work of our redemption. For, as the great doctor of the Gentiles
most divinely, the invisible things of God from the creation ofthe
world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are
made, even his eternal power and Godhead, Rom. i. ao. Even
so, 0 God, if we cannot see thee, we cannot but see the world
that thou hast made ; and in that we see some glimpses of thee.
When we behold some goodly pile of building, or some admirable
picture, or some rarely-artificial engine, our first question uses to
be, " Who made it 1" and we judge of and admire the skill of the
workman by the excellent contrivance of the work : how can we

34g The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
do otherwise in this mighty and goodly frame of thy universe?
Lord, what a world is this of thine which we see ! What a vast,
what a beautiful fabric is this, above and about us ! Lo, thou that
madest such an heaven, canst thou be other than infinitely glorious ?
O, the power and wisdom of such a Creator ! Every star is a world
alone : the least of those globes of light are far greater than this
our whole inferior world of earth and waters, which we think
scarce measurable ; and what a world of these lightsome worlds hast
thou marshalled together in that one firmament ! and yet what
room hast thou left in that large contignation for more ! so as the
vacant space betwixt one star and another is more in extent than
that which is filled. In how exact a regularity do these celestial
bodies move ever since their first setting forth, without all variation
of the time or place of their rising or setting, without all change
of their influences ! In what point and minute Adam's new created
eyes saw them begin and shut up their diurnal motions, we, his
late posterity, upon that same day and in the same climate find
them still : how have they looked upon their spectators in millions
of changed generations, and are still where they were, looking
still for more ! But, above the rest, who can but be astonished at
that constant miracle of nature, that glorious sun, by whose beams
all the higher and lower world is illuminated, and by whose sole
benefit we have use of our eyes ? 0 God, what were the world
without it, but a vast and sullen dungeon of confusion and horror ;
and with it, what a theatre of beauty and wonder ! what a sad
season is our midnight, by reason of his farthest absence ! and yet
even then some glimpses of emanations and remainders of that
hidden light diffuse themselves through the air, and forbid the
darkness to be absolute. 0, what an hell were utter darkness !
what a reviving and glorious spectacle it is when the morning
opens the curtains of heaven, and shows the rising majesty of that
great ruler of the day, which too many eyes have seen with
adoration, never any saw without wonder and benediction. And
if thy creature be such, what, 0 what art thou, that hast made it ?
As for that other faithful witness in heaven, what a clear and
lasting testimony doth it give to all beholders of thine omnipo
tence ! Always, and yet never changing ; still uniform in her con
stant variations, still regular in the multiplicity of her movings.
And, 0 God, what a train doth that great queen of heaven, by
thine appointment, draw after her ! no less than this vast element
of waters, so many thousand miles distant from her sphere. She

Sect. III.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 349
moves in heaven ; the sea follows her in this inferior orb, and
measures his paces by hers. How deep, how spacious, how rest
lessly turbulent is that liquid body ! and how tamed and confined
by thine almightiness ! How justly didst thou expostulate with
thy people of old by thy prophet Jeremiah ; Fear ye not me ?
saith the Lord : will ye not tremble at my presence, which have
placed the sand for the bounds ofthe sea by a perpetual decree,
that it cannot pass it : and though the waves thereof toss them
selves, yet can they not prevail ; though they roar, yet can they
not pass over it? Jer. v. 22.
And what a stupendous work of omnipotence is it, that thou,
O God, hast hanged up this huge globe of water and earth in the
midst of a yielding air, without any stay or foundation, save thine
own eternal decree ! How wonderful art thou in thy mighty winds,
which whence they come, and whither they go, thou only knowest ;
in thy dreadful thunders and lightnings, in thy threatening comets,
and other fiery exhalations ! With what marvellous variety of crea
tures hast thou peopled all these thy roomy elements ; all of
several kinds, fashions, natures, dispositions, uses ; and yet all their
innumerable motions, actions, events, are predetermined and over
ruled by thine allwise and almighty providence ! What man can
but open his eyes and see round about him these demonstrations
of thy divine power and wisdom, and not inwardly praise thee in
thine excellent greatness 1 For my own practice, I cannot find a
better notion whereby to work my heart to an inward adoration
of God than this ; thou, that hast made all this great world, and
guidest and governest it, and fillest and comprehendest it, being
thyself infinite and incomprehensible : and I am sure there can be
no higher representation of the divine greatness unto ourselves.
Although, withal, we may find enough at home ; for what man
that looks no farther than himself, and sees the goodly frame of
his body erected and employed for the harbour of a spiritual and
immortal soul, can choose but say, I will praise thee, for I am
fearfully and wonderfully made ?
Section III.
Surely, could we forget all the rest of the world, it is enough
to fetch us upon our knees, and to strike an holy awe into us, to
think, that in him we live, and move, and have our being ; for
in these our particular obligations there is a mixed sense both of
the greatness and goodness of our God; which as it manifestly

350 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
shows itself in the wondrous work of our excellent creation, so
most of all magnifies itself in the exceedingly gracious work of our
redemption. Great is thy mercy, that thou mayest be feared ;
saith the sweet singer of Israel. Lo, power doth not more com
mand this holy fear than mercy doth, though both here meet to
gether ; for as there was infinite mercy mixed with power in thus
creating us, so also there is a no less mighty power mixed with
infinite mercy in our redemption. What heart can but awfully
adore thy sovereign mercy, 0 blessed God, the Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ, in sending thine only and coequal Son, the
Son of thy love, the Son of thine eternal essence, out of thy bosom,
down from the height of celestial glory into this vale of tears and
death, to abase himself in the susception of our nature ; to clothe
himself with the rags of our humanity ; to endure temptation,
shame, death, for us ? 0 blessed Jesu, the Redeemer of mankind,
what soul can be capable of a sufficient adoration of thine uncon
ceivable mercy in thy mean and despicable incarnation, in thy
miserable and toilsome life, in thy bloody agony, in thine igno
minious and tormenting passion, in thy woful sense of thy Father's
wrath, in our stead ; and, lastly, in thy bitter and painful death ?
Thou that knewest no sin wert made sin for us ; thou that art
omnipotent wouldest die, and by thy death hast victoriously tri
umphed over death and hell. It is enough, 0 Saviour, it is more
than enough, to ravish our hearts with love, and to bruise them
with a loving fear. 0 blessed Spirit, the God of comfort, who
but thou only can make our souls sensible of thy unspeakable
mercy, in applying to us the wonderful benefit of this our dear
redemption, in the great work of our inchoate regeneration, in
the mortifying of our evil and corrupt affections, in raising us to
the life of grace, and preparing us for the life of glory ? 0 God,
if mercy be proper to attract fear, how must our hearts, in all
these respects, needs be filled with an awful regard unto thy di
vine bounty ! Oh how great is thy goodness, which thou hast laid
up for them that fear thee, even before the sons qf men! Psalm
xxxi. 19. Section IV.
Now we may not think this inward adoration of the greatness
and goodness of God to be one simple act, but that which is
sweetly compounded of the improvement of many holy affections ;
for there cannot but be love mixed with this fear ; The fear qf the
Lord is the beginning of love, Ecclus. xxv. ia ; and this fear must

Sect. V.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 351
be mixed with joy; Rejoice in him with trembling, Ps. ii. n ;
and this fear and joy is still mixed with hope; for in the fear of
the Lord is strong confidence, Prov. xiv. 26 ; and, The eye qf the
Lord is upon them that fear him, upon them that hope in his
mercy, Ps. xxxiii. 18. As therefore we are wont to say that our
bodies are not, neither can be, nourished with any simple ingre
dient; so may we truly say of our souls, that they neither receive any
comfort or establishment, nor execute any powers of theirs, by any
sole, single affection ; but require a gracious mixture for both.
As that Father said of obedience, we may truly say of grace, that
it is all copulative.
Neither may we think, that one only impression of this holy
fear and inward adoration will serve the turn, to season all our
following disposition and carriage ; but, there must be a virtual
continuation thereof, in all the progress of our lives. Our schools
do here seasonably distinguish of perpetuity : whether of the
second act, when all our several motions and actions are so held
on, as that there is no cessation or intermission of their perform
ance ; which we cannot here expect : or of the first act ; when
there is an habit of this inward adoration, settled upon the heart
so constantly, that it is never put off, by whatever occurrences ;
so as, whatsoever we do, whatsoever we endeavour, hath a secret
relation hereunto. And this second way we must attain unto, if
ever we will aspire to any comfort in the fruition of God's presence
here upon earth, and our meet disposition towards him. I have
often thought of that deep and serious question of the late judi
cious and honourable sir Fulke Grevil, lord Brook, a man worthy
of a fairer death and everlasting memory, moved to a learned
kinsman ' of mine, much interested in that nobleman, who, when
he was discoursing of an incident matter very considerable, was
taken off with this quick interrogation of that wise and noble
person, "What is that to the Infinite?" as secretly implying
that all our thoughts and discourse must be reduced thither ; and
that they fail of their ends if they be any otherwhere terminated.
It was a word well becoming the profound judgment and quint
essential notions of that rare, memorable peer. And certainly so
it is : if the cogitations and affections of our hearts be not directed to
the glory of that infinite God, both they are lost, and we in them.
Section V.
Religious adoration begins in the heart, but rests not there ;
¦ Mr. Samuel Burton, Archdeacon of Gloucester.

352 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
diffusing itself through the whole man : and commanding all the
powers of the soul and all the parts of the body to comply in a
reverent devotion : so that, as we fear the Lord whom we serve,
so we serve the Lord with fear. Where the heart stoops, it can
not be but the knees must bend, the eyes and bands must be
lift up ; and the whole body will strive to testify the inward
veneration : as upon all occasions so especially when we have to
deal with the sacred affairs of God, and offer to present ourselves
to any of his immediate services. Our fear cannot be smothered
in our bosoms. Every thing that pertains to that Infinite
Majesty must carry from us due testifications of our awe ; his
name, his word, his services, his house, his messengers. I cannot
allow the superstitious niceties of the Jews in the matters of God ;
yet I find in their practice many things worthily imitable ; such as
savour of the fear of their father Isaac, and such as justly shame
our profane carelessness.
There is no wise man but must needs mislike their curious
scruples concerning that ineffable name : the letters and syllables
whereof they held in such dreadful respect, that they deemed it
worthy of death for any but sacred lips, and that but in set times
and places, to express it ; as if the mention of it pierced the side
of God, together with their own heart. kAnd if the name of God
were written upon their flesh, that part might not be touched
either with water or ointment. But well may we learn this point
of wit and grace from this first (and, then, the only) people of
God — not rashly, slightly, regardlessly, to take the awful name of
God into our mouths ; but to hear and speak it, when occasion is
given, with all holiness and due veneration.
There are those that stumble at their adoration at the blessed
name of Jesus prescribed and practised by our Church ; as
unjustly conceiving that we put a superstitious holiness in the
very sound and syllabical enunciation of the word ; whereas it is
the person of that blessed Saviour to whom upon this occasion
our knees are bended ; a gesture, so far out of the just reach of
blame, that if it seemed good to the wisdom of the Church to allot
this reverent respect to all whatsoever the names whereby the
Majesty of God in the whole sacred Trinity is signified and
expressed to men, it were most meet to be accordingly exhibited
unto them. And now, since it hath, without inhibition of the
like regard to the rest, pitched upon that name, which, intimating
k Schichard, De Jure Regio Hebr.

Sect. VI.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 353
and comprising in it the whole gracious work and immediate
author of our dear redemption, hath been exposed to the reproach
and opposition of the gainsaying world ; we cannot, if we be not
wanting to our filial obedience, detrect our observance of so ancient
and pious an institution. Never any contempt was dared to be
cast upon the glorious name of the almighty and absolute Deity ;
only the state of exinanition subjected the Son of God to the
scorn and under-valuation of the world: justly, therefore, hath
our holy and gracious mother thought fit and ordained, upon that
person and name, which seemed less honourable, and lay more
open to affront, to bestow the more abundant honour. In the
mean time, as she is a professed encourager and an indulgent
lover of all true devotion, she cannot but be well pleased with
whatsoever expressions of reverence we give to the Divine
Majesty, under whatsoever terms, uttered by our well advised and
well instructed tongues.
I have known and honoured, as most worthy a constant imita
tion, some devout persons, that never durst mention the name of
God, in their ordinary communication, without uncovering of their
heads, or elevation of their hands, or some such other testimony
of reverence. And certainly if the heart be so throughly pos
sessed with a sad awe of that Infinite Majesty as it ought, the
tongue dares not presume, in a sudden unmannerliness, to blurt
out the dreadful name of God : but shall both make way for it by a
premised deliberation, and attend it with a reverent elocution.
I am ashamed to think how far we are surpassed with the
heathenish piety. The ancient Grecians, and, amongst the rest,
Plato, as Suidas well observes, when they would swear by their
Jupiter, out of the mere dread and reverence of his name, forbear
to mention him : breaking off their oath with a p.a tov ; as those
that only dare to owe the rest to their thoughts : and Climas, the
Pythagorean, out of this regard, would rather undergo a mulct of
three talents than swear; while the profane mouths of many
Christians make no difference in their appellation between their
God and their servant. Section VI.
As the name, so the word of our Maker challengeth an awful
regard from us, as a reflection of that fear we owe to the omni
potent Author of it. What worlds of nice caution have the masters
of the synagogue prescribed to their disciples for their demeanour
towards the book of the Law of their God ! No letter of it might
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. A a

354 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
be writ without a copy ; no line of it without a rule ; and the
rule must be upon the back of the parchment: no parchment
might be employed to this service, but that which is made of the
skin of a clean beast : no word might be written in a different
colour ; insomuch as, when in the Pentateuchh of Alexander the
Great, the name of Jehovah was in pretence of honour written
in golden characters, their great rabbins condemned the whole
volume to be obliterated and defaced : no man might touch it, but
with the right-hand, and without a kiss of reverence : no man
might sit in the presence of it : no man might so much as spit
before it : no man might carry it behind him, but lay it next to his
heart, in his travel : no man might offer to read it, but in a clean
place : no man might sell it, though the copy were moth-eat, and
himself half famished. And is the word of the everlasting God of
less worth and authority now than it hath been ? Or is there less
cause of our reverence of those divine oracles than theirs ? Certainly,
if they were superstitiously scrupulous, it is not for us to be care
lessly slovenly, and neglective of that sacred book out of which we
shall once be judged. Even that impure Alcoran of the Turks is
forbidden to be touched by any but pure hands. It was not the
least praise of Carlo Boromeo', the late saint of Milan, that he
would never read the divine scripture but upon his knees : and if
we profess to bear no less inward honour to that sacred volume,
why should we, how can we, think it free for us to entertain it
with an unmannerly neglect ?
Section VII.
As to the name and word, so to the services of God, must the
efficacy of our holy fear be diffused : and these, whether private
or public.
If we pray, our awe will call us, either to a standing on our
feet, as servants ; or a bowing of our knees, as suppliants ; or a
prostration on our faces, as dejected penitents : neither, when the
heart is a camel can the body be an elephant. What prince would
not scorn the rudeness of a sitting petitioner ? It was a just dis
tinction of Socrates k of old, that, to sacrifice, is to give to God;
to* pray, is to beg of God ; and who is so liberal as to cast away
his alms upon a stout and unreverent beggar ?
h Idem Schichardus De Jure Regio k Tb Bveiv, SapelaBai iar\ tois 0eo7r
Hebrseorum. t6 Sh evxiaBai, sitcii' tovs Oeous. Plat.
1 Ogier Apol. pour M. de Balzac [Ed. Apol. [Euthyphro.]
Paris 1663. p. 144.]

Sect. VII.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 355
If we attend God's message, in the mouth of his holy servants,
whether read or preached, our fear will frame us to a reverent
carriage of our bodies ; so as our very outward deportment may
really seem to speak the words of the good centurion : Now we
are all here present before God, to hear all things that are com
manded thee qf God, Acts x. 33. We shall need no law to veil
our bonnets, save that in our own breast. It was a great word
that Simeon1 the son of Satach said to the Jewish prince and
priest, convented before their Sanhedrin : " Thou standest not
before us, but before him that said, Let the world be made, and
it was made." Did we think so, how durst we sit in a bald sauciness
while that great embassy is delivered with our hats on our heads,
as if we acknowledged no presence but of our inferiors ? Yea,
that which is a shame to say, those very apprentices, who dare
not cover their heads at home, where their master is alone ; yet,
in God's house, where they see him in a throng of his betters,
waiting upon the ordinances of the God of heaven, think it free
for them equally to put on, and to be no less fellows with their
master than he is with his Maker : as if the place and service
gave a public privilege to all comers of a profane lawlessness.
Surely, the same ground whereon the apostle built his charge for
the covering of the heads of the women serves equally for the
uncovering the heads of the men, because ofthe angels, 1 Cor.
xi. 10; yea more, because of the God of the angels, who by
these visible angels of his Church speaks to us, and solicits our
salvation. If we address ourselves to the dreadful mysteries of the blessed
sacrament of the body and blood of our Lord Jesus, our fear will
bend our knees in a meet reverence to that great and gracious
Saviour, who is there lively represented, offered, given, sealed
up to our souls; who, at that heavenly table, is, as St. Jerome m
truly, both the guest and the banquet. Neither can the heart
that is seasoned with true piety be afraid of too lowly a partici
pation of the Lord of glory ; but rather resolves, that he is not
worthy of knees who will not here bow them; for who should
command them, if not their Maker, if not their Redeemer?
Away with the monsters of opinion and practice concerning this
sacrament ! Christ Jesus is here really tendered unto us ; and
who can, who dares take him, but on his knees? What posture
1 Talmud.
ni Ipse conviva et convivium. Ad Hedibiam. [Paris. 1706. torn. iv. p. 172.]
A a 2

356 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
can we use with our fellows, if we sit with our God and Saviour ?
At our best, well may we say, with the humble centurion, Lord,
we are not worthy thou shouldest come under our roof; but if
we prepare not both souls and bodies to receive him reverently,
our sinful rudeness shall make us utterly uncapable of so blessed
a presence. Section VIII.
Neither doth our awful regard reach only to the actions of
God's service, but extends itself even to the very house which is
called by his name, the place where his honour dweiieth. For as
the presence of God gives a holiness to what place soever he is
pleased. to show himself in, as the sun carries an inseparable
light wheresoever it goes ; so that holiness calls for a meet vene
ration from us. It was a fit word for that good patriarch, who
sware by his father's fear, (Gen. xxxi. 53,) which he spake of his
Bethel: How dreadful is this place ! this is none other but the
house qf God, this is the gate of heaven, Gen. xxviii. 17.
The several distances and distinctions that were observed in
the temple of God at Jerusalem are famously known. None
might sit within the verge thereof but the king ; all others
either stood or kneeled. I have read of some sects of men so
curiously scrupulous, that their priests were not allowed to breathe
in their temple; but were commanded, while they went in to
sweep the floor, to hold their wind, like those that dive for
sponges at Samos, to the utmost length of time ; and when they
would vent their suppressed air, and change it for new, to go
forth of the doors, and return with a fresh supply11. But we are
sure the Ethiopian" Christians are so holily mannerly, that they
do not allow any man so much as to spit in their churches ; and
if such a defilement happen, they cause it to be speedily cleansed.
What shall we then say of the common profaneness of those
careless Christians that make no distinction betwixt their church
and their barn ; that care not to look unto their foul feet when
they come under this sacred roof; that with equal irreverence
stumble into God's house and their tavern ; that can find no fitter
place for their ambulatory, their burse, their counting-house, their
sepulchre ?
n Rugianorum sacerdos non intra lis spiritus contagio pollueretur. De
sedem Dei sui halitum emittebat ne &c. Orig. Fest. lib. iii. Tigur. 1593. p. 193. k.]
Hospinian De Orig. Fcstor. Mahumetan. ° Zaga Zabao's Relation, [legatus
[Observato ne intra halitum funderet iEthiop. apud Dam. a. Goes opusc. Lo-
&c. — ne videlicet Dei prsesentia morta- van. 1544 de iEthiop. Moribus Sign. I.]

Sect. IX.] The Remedy qf Profaneness. 357
^ It is recorded of St. Swithinp, the (no less famous than humble)
bishop of Winchester, that when he died he gave charge that
his body should not in any case be buried within the church,
but be laid where his grave might be wet with rain, and open to
weather and passengers; I suppose, as conceiving that sacred
place too good for the repository of the best carcasses. Surely
we cannot easily entertain too venerable an opinion of the habita
tion of the Almighty. If our hearts have the honour to be the
spiritual temples of God, we shall gladly give all due honour to
his material temples; and doubtless, in all experience, we shall
so respect the house as we are affected to the Owner. It was the
discipline and practice of the Etruscans, from whom old Rome
learned much of her skill in auguries, and many mysteries of
religion, that those deities whom they desired to harbour in their
own breasts, as Virtue, Peace, Modesty, should have temples
erected within their walls ; but those which were the presidents
of wars and combustions, or pleasures and sensuality, as Mars,
Venus, Vulcan, should take up with temples without their walls :
and even so it is and will be ever with us : if we have an holy
regard to the God of heaven, and adore him as inhabiting our
bosoms, we cannot but give all fair and venerable respects to
those houses which he hath taken up for his own worship and
presence. Section IX.
Neither, lastly, can God's very messengers, though partners
of our own infirmities, escape some sensible reflections of our fear.
It was the rule of the Jews q, that the very prince of the people,
if he would consult God's oracle, out of reverence to that divine
pectoral, must reverently stand before that priest who at other
times was bound to give lowly obedience to his sovereign lord.
What great Alexander did to the Jewish high priest, who
knows not ? Neither hath the practice of the godly emperors in
the Christian Church, through all successions of ages, savoured of
less regard : even the late Csesar Ferdinand, in the sight of our
English, not long before his end, together with his empress,
received an episcopal benediction publicly upon their knees.
Away with that insolent pomp of kissing of toes, which Justus
Lipsius •' justly called once " foul and servile ;" fit for a Caligula,
P Matth. Westmonast. [anno] 862. servilem. [Etiam hujus sseculi morem
1 Vide Schichardum De Jure Regio quern serviliter adulatio servat. Lib. ii.
Hebr. c 6.]
r Lipsius, Electorum lib. ii. turpem et
vol. VI.

358 The Remedy qf Profaneness. [Book II.
or Maximinus the younger, or a Dioclesian ! away with the proud
horsing on shoulders, or treading on necks, or the lackeying
of princes ! It was a moderate word of cardinal Zabarella s, con
cerning his great master : " So is he to be honoured, that he be
not adored." Surely when religion was at the best, great peers
thought it no scorn to kiss the venerable hands of their spiritual
fathers, and did not grudge them eminent titles of honour *.
It was but a simple port that Elijah carried in the world ; who,
after that astonishing wonder of fetching down fire and water
from heaven, thought it no abasement to be Ahab's lackey from
Carmel to Jezreel, i Kings xviii. 46 : yet Obadiah, who was high
steward to the king of Israel, even that day could fall on his face
to him, and say, Art thou that my lord Elijah ?
Not much greater was the state of those Christian bishops,
who began now to breathe from the bloody persecutions of the
heathen emperors : yet with what dearness did that gracious
Constantine, in whom this island is proud to challenge no small
share, kiss those scars which they had received for the name of
Christ ! with what titles did he dignify them ! as one that saw
Christ in their faces, and meant in their persons to honour his
Saviour. And indeed there is so close and indissoluble a relation betwixt
Christ and his messengers, that their mutual interest can never
be severed. What prince doth not hold himself concerned in the
honours or affronts that are done to his ambassadors ? Those
keys which God hath committed to our hands lock us so fast to
him, that no power in earth or hell can separate us; but still
that word must stand fast in heaven, He that despiseth you
despiseth me.
In vain shall they therefore pretend to fear God that contemn
and disgrace their spiritual governors. There is a certain plant
which our herbalists u call herbam impiam, or " wicked cudweed,"
whose younger branches still yield flowers to overtop the elder :
such weeds grow too rife abroad : it is an ill soil that produceth
them. I am sure that where the heart is manured and seasoned
with a true fear of the Almighty, there cannot be but an awful
regard to our spiritual pastors : well are those two charges con
joined, "Fear God, and honour his priests," Ecclus. vii. 31.
s Tract, de Schism. Innocentii septimi t Paulin. in Vita Sancti Ambrosii.
et Benedicti. [Varii Authores de Ju- u Gerard, p. 642. [Herbal, Lond.1597.
risdic. &c. Imper. Basil. 1566. p. 704.] p. 517.]

Sect. X.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 359
Section X.
Hitherto having considered that part of holy fear, wliich, con
sisting in an inward adoration of God, expresseth itself in the
awful respects to his name, word, services, house, messengers ;
we descend to that other part, which consists in our humble sub
jection and self-resignation to his good pleasure, in all things,
whether to order or correct.
The suffering part is the harder. It was a gracious resolution
of old Eli ; It is tlie Lord : let him do whatsoever he will, I Sam.
iii. 1 8. Surely, that man, though he were but an ill father to his
worse sons, yet he was a good son to his Father in heaven : for
nothing but a true filial awe could make the heart thus pliant,
that represents ourselves to us- as the clay, and our God to us as
the potter ; and therefore shows us how unjustly we should re
pine at any form or use that is by his hand put upon us.
I could envy that word which is said to have fallen from the
mouth of Francis" of Assisse in his great extremity : " I thank
thee, 0 Lord God, for all my pain ; and I beseech thee, if thou
think good, to add unto it an hundredfold more." Neither was
it much different from that which I have read, as reported of
pope Adrian y, but, I am sure, was spoken by a worthy divine,
within my time and knowledge, of the university of Cambridge,
whose labours are of much note and use in the Church of God,
Master Perkins ; who, when he lay in his last and killing tor
ment of the stone, hearing the bystanders to pray for a mitiga
tion of his pain, willed them not to pray for an ease of his com
plaint, but for an increase of his patience. These speeches can
not but proceed from subdued and meek and mortified souls,
more intentive upon the glory of their Maker than their own
peace and relaxation.
And certainly the heart thus seasoned cannot but be equally
tempered to all conditions, as humbly acknowledging the same
hand both in good and evil : and therefore, even frying in Pha-
laris's bull, as the philosopher said of a wise man, will be able to
say, Quam suave ! " How pleasant ! " Was it true of that heathen
martyr, Socrates, that, as in his lifetime he was not wont to
change his countenance upon any alteration of events ; so, when
he should come to drink his hemlock, as Plato2 reports it, no dif-
»Lib. i. Conform. Fruct. 12. [Auctore z Md\a 't\eas — obStv Tpiaas, ovSe 81-
Alb. de Pisis Lib. III. Conform. 4. a<p6etpas, oBtc toO xp&V-aTos, ofce to5
Mediol. 1 5 10. fol. 239b.] Trpoadirow aA\' Ktairep eli&Bei, ravpvSbv
y Binius, &c. virofS\tyas. Plat. Apol. &c. [Phsedo.]

360 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
ference could be descried either in his hand or face ; no paleness
in his face, no trembling in his hand ; but a steadfast and fearless
taking of that fatal cup, as if it differed not from the wine of his
meals ?
Even this resolution was no other than an effect of the ac
knowledgment of that one God for which he suffered. If so, I
cannot less magnify that man for his temper than the oracle did
for his wisdom : but I can do no less than bless and admire the
known courage and patience of those Christian martyrs, who, out
of a loving- fear of Him that onlv can save, and cast both bodies
and souls into hell, despised shame, pain, death, and manfully
insulted upon their persecutors. Blessed Ignatius could profess
to challenge and provoke the furious lions to his dilaniation :
blessed Cyprian could pray that the tyrant would not repent of
the purpose of dooming him to death : and that other holy bishop,
when his hand was threatened to be cut off, could say, Seca am-
bas, " Cut off both."
It is not for me to transcribe volumes of martyrologies. All
that holy army of conquering saints began their victories in an
humble awe of Him whose they were, and cheerfully triumphed
over irons and racks and gibbets and wrheels and fires, out of a
meek and obedient submission to the will and call of their ever-
blessed God and most dear Redeemer : insomuch as St. Chrys
ostom professes to find patterns and parallels for himself in all
varieties of torments, and whatsoever several forms of execution :
and the blessed apostle hath left us a red calendar of these con
stant witnesses of God ; whose memory is still on earth, their
crown in heaven, Heb. xi. 36, 37, 38.
Neither is it thus onlv in the undaunted sufferings for the
causes of God, but our awe subjects us also to the good will of
God in all whatsoever changes of estate. Do I smart with
afflictions? I will bear the indignation ofthe Lord, because I
have sinned against him, Mich. vii. 9 : / held my peace, became
thou, Lord, hast done it. Do I abound in blessings ? IT7io am
I, 0 Lord God, and what is my father's house, that thou hast
brought me hitherto? 2 Sam. vii. 18. In both; I have learned,
in ivhat condition soever I am, to be theretvith content, Phil.
iv. 1 1 . Section XI.
Thus do we bow the knees of our hearts to God in our adora
tion of his majesty : both in duly magnifying his greatness and
goodness, and in our humble submission to his holy and gracious

Sect. XL] The Remedy of Profaneness. 361
pleasure. There remains that other signature of our awful dis
position, which consists in a tender and childlike care, both of his
secret approbation of us, and of our avoidance of his displeasure
and our offence towards him : these two part not asunder ; for he
that desires to be approved would be loath to displease.
The heart that is rightly affected to God is ambitious, above all
things under heaven, of the secret allowance of the Almighty ;
and therefore is careful to pass a continual and exact inquisition
upon all his thoughts, much more upon his actions, what accepta
tion or censure they find above : like as some timorous child, upon
every stitch that she takes in her first sampler,, looks tremblingly
in the face of her mistress, to see how she likes it : as well know
ing, that the law of God was not given us, as somea have said of
Benedict's rule, only to profess, but to perform ; and that, ac
cordingly, tbe conscience shall find either peace or tumult. As
we are wont therefore to say of the dove, that at the picking up
of every grain she casts her eyes up to heaven, so will our godly
fear teach us to do, after all our speeches and actions. For which
cause it will be necessary to exercise our hearts with very fre
quent, if not continual, ejaculations. I remember the storyc tells
us of that famous Irish saintb, of whom there are many monu
ments in these western parts, that he was wont to sign himself no
less than an hundred times in an hour. Away with all supersti
tion : although cardinal Bellarmind tells us, not improbably, that,
in the practice of those ancient Christians, their crossing was no
other than a silent kind of invocation of that Saviour who was
crucified for us : surely, I should envy any man that hath the
leisure and grace to lift up his heart thus often to his God, let
the glance be never no short : neither can such a one choose but
be full of religious fear. I like not the fashion of the Euchites,
that were all prayer and no practice ; but the mixture of these
holy elevations of the soul with all our actions, with all recreations,
is so good and laudable, that whosoever is most frequent in it shall
pass with me for most devout, and most conversant in heaven.
But the most proper and pregnant proof of this fear of God is,
the fear of offending Gode, in which regard it is perfectlv filial.
a Error Tho. Aqui. Quodlib. art. 20. " Patricius.
Hospin. in Notis ad Regul. Benedicti. d In one of his Prefaces to his Con-
[Hospin. De Orig. et progr. Monach. troversy.
Tigurii6o9. fol. H2.b] e °^va yap Sios ivBa Kail alStis. Plat.
b Jo. Capgrave. [nova legend. Angl. Euth'yphr.
fol. 263.]

362 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
The good child is afraid of displeasing his father though he were
sure not to be beaten ; whereas, the slave is only afraid of stripes,
not of displeasure. Out of this dear awe to his Father in heaven,
the truly regenerate trembles to be but tempted, and yet re
solves not to yield to any assault ; whether proffers of favour or
violence of battery, all is one. The obfirmed soul will hold out,
and scorns so much as to look of what colour the flag is ; as
having learned to be no less afraid of sin than of hell; and
if the option were given him, whether he would rather sin without
punishment, or be punished without sin, the choice would not be
difficult : any torment were more easy than the conscience of a
divine displeasure. It was good Joseph's just question, How shall
I do this great wickedness, and sin against God f Gen. xxxix. 9.
Lo, it is the sin that he sticks at, not the judgment ; as one that
would have feared the offence if there had been no hell.
But if it fall out that the renewed person, as it is incident to
the most dutiful children of God, be, through a violent temptation
and his own infirmity, miscarried into a known sin ; how much
warm water doth it cost him ere he can recover his wonted state !
what anxiety, what strife, what torture, what self-revenge, what
ejaculations and complaints, what unrepining subjection to the
rod ! / have sinned ; what shall I do unto thee, 0 thou preserver
of men? Job vii. 20. So I have seen a goodnatured child, that,
even after a sharp whipping, could not be quieted till he had ob
tained the pardon and evened the brows of a frowning parent.
And now, as it is with little ones that have taken a knock with
a late fall, the good man walks hereafter with so much the more
wary foot, and is the more fearfully jealous of his own infirmity ;
and finding in himself but the very inclinations towards the first
motions of evil, he is careful, according to that wholesome rule of
a strict votaryf, Cogitationes malas mox ad Christum allidere,
"Instantly to dash his newborn evil thoughts against the rock
Christ." And henceforth, out of a suspicion of the danger of ex
cess, he dares not go to the farther end of his tether ; but in a
wise and safe rigour abridges himself of some part of that scope
which he might be allowed to take, and will stint himself rather
than lash out. Indeed, right reason teacheth us to keep aloof
from offending that power which we adore. The ancient AlmainsS,
holding their rivers for gods, durst not wash their faces with those
waters, lest they should violate those deities ; and the Jews were
f Benedict. Reg cap. 4. * Mart. Dorza. Sab. post dominie. 4 Quadrag.

Sect. XL] The Remedy of Prqfanmess. 363
taught not to dare to come near an idolatrous grove, though the
way were never so direct and commodious. No wise man, however
he might have firm footing upon the edge of some high rocky pro
montory, will venture to walk within some paces of that downfall ;
but much more will his sense and judgment teach him to refrain
from casting himself headlong, like that desperate barbarian in
Xenophonh, from that steep precipice.
The fear of God, therefore, is a strong retentive from sin ; nei
ther can possibly consist, in whatsoever soul, with a resolution to
offend. As then, the Father of the faithful, when he came into
Gerar, a Philistine city, could strongly argue, that those heathens
would refrain from no wickedness because the fear of God was
not in that place, Genesis xx. 1 1 ; so we may no less irrefragably
infer, where we see a trade of prevalent wickedness, there can be
no fear of God.
Woe is me, what shall I say of this last age, but the same that
I must say of mine own ? As this decrepit body, therefore, by
reason of the unequal temper of humours, and the defect of radical
moisture and heat, cannot but be a sewer of all diseases ; so it is,
so it will be, with the decayed old age of this great body of the
world, thrc%gh want of the fear of the everliving God : Rivers of
waters, 0 God, shall run down mine eyes, because men keep not
thy law, Ps. cxix. 136.
But what do I suggest to the obdured hearts of wilful sinners
the sweet and gracious remedies of a loving fear ? This preserva
tive is for children ; sturdy rebels must expect other receipts. A
frown is an heavy punishment to a dutiful son ; scourges and scor
pions are but enough for a rebellious vassal. I must lay before
such, an hell of vengeance, and show them the horrible Tophet,
prepared of old, even that bottomless pit of perdition; and tell
them of rivers of brimstone, of a worm ever gnawing, of ever
lasting burnings, of weeping, wailing, and gnashing, when the
terrible Judge of the world shall come in flaming fire, rendering
vengeance to them that know not God, and obey him not, 2 Thess.
i. 8. And certainly, if the sinner had not an infidel in his bosom
the expectation of so dir*eful a condition, to be inflicted and con
tinued upon him unto all eternity, without possibility of any inter
mission or of any remission, were enough to make him run mad
with fear : only unbehef keeps him from a frantic despair, and a
sudden leap into his hell.
And if the custom and deceit of sin have wrought an utter
n [Xenoph. De Exped. Cyri. [Lib. iv. c. 7. ed, Oxf. 1855.]

364 TheJRemedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
senselessness in those brawny hearts, I must leave them over to
the woful sense of what they will not fear ; yea, to the too late fear
of what they shall not be able either to bear or avoid. Certainly,
the time will come when they shall be swallowed up with a dread
ful confusion, and shall no more be able not to fear than not to
be. Oftentimes, even in the midst of all their secure jollity, God
writes bitter things against them, such as make their knees to
knock together, their lips to tremble, their teeth to chatter, their
hands to shake, their hearts to fail within them, for the anguish
of their souls. Were they as insensate as the earth itself, Touch
the mountains and they shall smoke, saith the Psalmist : The
mountains saw thee, and they trembled, saith Habakkuk iii, 10.
But if their fear be respited, it is little for their ease ; it doth
but forbear a little that it may overwhelm them at once for ever.
Woe is me, for them ! in how heavy and deplorable case are they,
and feel it not ! They lie under the fierce wrath of the Almighty,
and complain of nothing but ease. The mountains quake at him,
and the hills melt, and the earth is burned at his presence : who
can stand before his indignation ? and who can abide in the
fierceness of his anger? His fury is poured out like fire, and the
rocks are thrown down by him, saith the prophet Nahum, chap. i.
5, 6. Yet, 0 what a grief it is to see that so dreadful a power
should carry away no more fear from us, wretched men ; yea, even
from those that are ready to fear where no fear is !
Pains of body, frowns of the great, restraint of liberty, loss of
goods, who is it that fears not ? But, alas ! to avoid these, men
fear not to venture upon the displeasure of Him whose anger is
death, and who is able to cast body and soul into hell fire : so we
have seen fond children, that to avoid a bugbear, have run into
fire or water ; so we have seen a starting jade, that suddenly
flying from a shadow, hath cast himself into a ditch. We can but
mourn in secret for those that have no tears to spend upon them
selves; and tremble for them that will needs gnash. If those that
are filthy will be filthy still, if secure men will set up a trade of
sinning, every good heart will take up Nehemiah's resolution,
But so did not I, because ofthe fear tf the Lord, Neh. v. 15 :
and the practice of holy Habakkuk ; / trembled in myself, that
I might rest in the day of trouble, Hab. iii. 16. It is wise So
lomon's good experiment, wliich he loved to repeat, By the fear of
the Lord men depart from evil, Prov. xvi. 6 ; iii. 7 ; for they say
one to another, as the Tremellian version hath it in Malachi, The
Lord hearkeneth and heareth, Mai. iii. 16: and how dare they,

Sect. XII.J The Remedy of Profaneness. 365
how can they, do amiss in that presence ? For, as the saints say,
after the Song of Moses and the Song of the Lamb ; Great and
marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty ; just and true
are thy ivays, thou King of saints. Who shall not fear thee, and
glorify thy name ? for thou only art holy, Rev. xv. 3, 4.
Section XII.
Shortly then, that we may put these two together which are
not willing to be severed ; whosoever is duly affected with a true
filial fear of the Almighty, cannot, by allurements, be drawn to do
that which may offend so sweet a mercy ; cannot, by any difficulties,
be discouraged from doing that which may be pleasing to so
gracious a Majesty. The magistrate that fears God, dares not,
cannot be partial to any wickedness ; dares not, cannot be harsh
to innocence : managing that sword wherewith he is intrusted, so
as God himself, if he were upon earth, would do it for the glory
of his own just mercy. The messenger of God, that fears him on
whose errand he goes, dares not, cannot either smother his mes
sage or exceed it: he will, he must lift up his voice like a
trumpet, and tell Israel of her sins, and Judah of her transgres
sions; not fearing faces, not sparing offences. The ordinary
Christian, that fears God, dares not, cannot but make conscience
of all his ways ; he dares not defraud nor lie, for an advantage ;
he dares not swear falsely, for a world ; he dares not prostitute
his body, to whatsoever filthiness ; he dares not oppress his in
feriors ; he dares not turn away his own face from the poor, much
less dares he grind theirs : in one word, he dares rather die than
sin : and, contrarily, what blocks soever nature lays in his way,
since his God calls him forth to his combat, he cannot but bid
battle to his own rebellious corruptions ; and offer a deadly vio
lence to his evil and corrupt affections ; and enter the lists with
all the powers of darkness, resisting unto blood, and willinglv
bleeding that he may overcome.
Who now -would not be in love with this fear ? 0 fear the Lord,
ye his saints : he that fears him shall lack nothing, Ps. xxxiv 9 :
The Sun of righteousness shall arise unto him with healing in
his wings, Mai. iv. 2. In the mean time, The secret qf the Lord
is with him, Ps. xxv. 14. The angels of the Lord are ever
about him, Ps. xxxiv. 7 : his soul shall dwell at ease here below,
~ Ps. xxv. 13 : and above, salvation is near unto him, Ps. lxxxv. 9 :
yea, he is already feoffed of life and glory, Prov. xxix. 25.

366 The Remedy or Profaneness. [Book II.
Section XIII.
Now, as some careful pilot, that takes upon him to direct a
difficult sea-passage, which his long and wary observation hath
discovered, doth not content himself to steer a right course in his
own vessel, and to show the eminent sea-marks afar off ; but tells,
withal, what rocks or shelves lie on either side of the channel,
which upon the least deviation may endanger the passengers ;
so must we do here. Having therefore sufficiently declared
wherein this fear of God consisteth, what it requireth of us, and
how it is acted and expressed by us ; it remaineth, that we touch
at those extremes, which, on both sides, must be carefully avoided :
these are, security and presumption, on the one hand ; on the
other, vicious fear.
It was the word of the Wise Man, yea rather of God by him,
Happy is the man that feareth alway : but lie that hardeneth
his heart shall fall into mischief, Prov. xxviii. 14. Lo, an obdured
security is opposed to fear, both in the nature and issue of it.
Fear intenerates the heart, making it fit for all gracious im
pressions ; security hardens it, and renders it uncapable of good.
Fear ends in happiness ; security, in an inevitable mischief.
And these two, though contraries, yet arise from the same cause
contrarily applied :
Like as the same sun hardens the clay and softens the wax :
it is heat that doth both ; causing dryness in the one, and a
dissolution in the other : even so the same beams of divine
mercy melt the good heart into a holy fear, {great is thy mercy,
that thou mayest be feared,) and harden the wicked heart in a
state of security : for, upon the goodness of God to men, both in
giving and forgiving, do men grow securely evil and rebellious
to their God ; as being apt to say, " I have sinned, and what harm
hath happened unto me!" saith Siracides, Ecclus. v. 4. Lo, even
forbearance obdureth ; Because sentence against an evil work is
not executed speedily, therefore the heart qf the sons qf men is
fully set in them to do evil, Eccl. viii. 11; how much more do
the riches of God's goodness, (Rom. ii. 4,) which are the hottest
beams of that sun, when they beat directly upon our heads ! The
ease of the simple shall slay them, and the prosperity of fools
shall destroy them, saith Solomon, Prov. i. 32.
Our philosophy tells us that an extreme heat shuts up those
pores which a moderate openeth. It was a sore word of St.

Sect. XIII.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 367
Ambrose1 ; that no man can at once embrace God's favour and
the world's Neither can I disallow that observation of a rigorous
votary k; that the devils of consolation, as he calls them, are
more subtle and more pernicious than those of tribulation : not
so .much perhaps in their own nature, as for the party they find
in our own breasts. The Wise Man could say, Lest I be full, and
deny thee, and ask, Who is the Lord ? Prov. xxx. 9.
Even very heathens have been thus jealously conscious of their
own disposition : so as Camillus1, when upon ten years' siege he
had taken the wealthy city Veii, could pray for some mishap to
befall himself and Rome, to temper so great a happiness.
This is that which Gregory"1 the Great, upon his exaltation to
that papal honour, doth so much complain of in himself : that his
inward fall was no less than his outward raising ; and that his
dull heart was almost grown stupid with those temporal occasions.
And surely so it will be, if there be not a strong grace within us,
to season our prosperity.
That which the historian11 observed in the course of the world,
that abundance begets delicacy and animosity; that again, quarrels,
and vastation of war ; and from thence grows poverty ; is no less
true in the particular state of the soul. If we be rich and high
fed, we grow wanton and stomachful, and apt to make war with
Heaven, till we be taken down again with affliction : thereupon
it is, that the wise and holy God hath found it still needful to
sauce our contentments with some mixtures of sorrows, and to
proclaim the jubilee of our mirth and freedom upon the sad day
of expiation. The man after God's own heart could say, In my
prosperity I said, I shall never be moved, Ps. xxx. 6 ; but the
next ye hear is, Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled,
ver. 7 ; and this trouble he professes to have been for his good.
Without these meet temperaments worldly hearts run wild, and
can say, with the scornful men that ruled in Jerusalem, We have
made a covenant with death, and with hell are we at agreement :
when the overflowing scourge shall pass through, it shall not
come to us ; for we have made lies our refuge, and under false
hood have we hid ourselves, Is. xxviii. 15 ; yea, in a stout inso-
' Nemo potest amplecti Dei gratiam trantibus curis temporalibus jam pene
simul et seculi. Ambros. [Ed. Rom.] lib. ad stuporem deducta, &c. Greg. Epist.
iv. Epist. 29. 1. vii. 126.
k Aegidius. lib. Conform. &c. con- n Trifarius reru/m cursus ; Abwndom-
form. 8. [fol. 56. col. 1. ut supra.] tias, Indigentice, Temperantice, &c. [Wor-
1 Tit. Livius. v. 2 1 . nerus Rolewink] Fascic. Temp, in an.
m Torpet ignavia mens; et, circumla- 1404. [Ed. Paris, fol. 87.]

368 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
lence, as the prophet Jeremiah expresses it, They belie the Lord;
and say, It is not he ; neither shall evil come upon us ; neither
shall we see sword or famine ; Jer. v. 12.
Neither yet is it only the abuse of God's longsuffering and
bounty that produceth this ill habit of security and hard-hearted-
ness ; but especially a custom of sinning. Oft treading hardens
the path. The hand that was at first soft and tender, after it
hath been inured to work grows brawned and impenetrable.
We have heard of virgins which, at the first, seemed modest,
blushing at the motions of an honest love ; who, being once
corrupt and debauched, have grown flexible to easy entreaties
unto unehastity ; and from thence boldly lascivious, so as to
solicit others, so as to prostitute themselves to all comers ; yea,
as our Casuists0 complain of some Spanish stews, to an unnatural
filthiness. That which our canonists P say, in another kind, is
too true here ; "Custom can give a jurisdiction ; neither is there
any stronger law than it." The continued use then of any known
sin, be it never so small, gives, as Gerson's phrase is, a strong
habituation; and though it be a true rule, that "habits do only
incline, not compell ;" yet the inclination that is wrought by them
is so forcible, that it differs little from violent. Surely, so power
ful is the habit of sin, bred by ordinary practice, as that it takes
away the very sense of sinning ; so as the offender now knows
not that he doth the very act of some evil ; much less that he
sins, and offends in doing it : and now, the heart is all turned
dead flesh, whether to good or ill. There is not, then, a more
dangerous condition incident into the soul of man than this of
security : it bars us of the capacity of any good that may be
wrought upon us : it exposes us to the success of all tempta
tions: it draws down the heaviest of God's judgments upon our
heads: it defies justice; it rejects mercy: it makes the heart
God's anvil, which the harder it is struck the more rebounds the
blow ; but the devil's featherbed, wherein he sinks and lies soft
at free ease; neither would that evil spirit wish for any more
pleasing repose : it flatters the soul with an impossible impunity:
it shifts off necessary vengeance : lastly, while other dispositions
do but yield to an hell, this invites it. By how much more woful
it is, by so much more careful must we be to avoid it.

o Martin. Vivaldus in Candelabro, in p Vivald. 4. parte [c. v.] in 30. [de
cap. de Confess. [Tit. VII. § 59. Pars I. Consuet.]
Venet. 1602.] 1 ITabitvs inclinant. non cognnt.

Sect. XIV.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 369
Section XIV.
If we care for our souls then, we shall zealously apply our
selves to prevent this hellish evil ; which shall be done, if we
shall constantly use all means to keep the heart tender.
Whereof the first is, frequent meditation upon the judgments
of God attending sinners. It is the apostle's own prescript ; Let us
have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably ivith reverence
and godly fear : for our God is a consuming fire, Heb. xii. 28, 29.
Could we but stoop down a little, and look into hell, we should
never come thither : the apprehension of those torments would be
sure to keep us from sinning and impenitence. It is a true ob
servation of Cyril 1, That the want of belief is guilty of all our
obduredness ; for should it be told thee, saith that father, that a
secular judge intends to doom thee to be burned alive to morrow,
how busily wouldst thou employ the remaining time to prevent
the judgment ! how eagerly wouldst thou run about ! how sub
missively and importunately wouldst thou sue and beg for pardon !
how readily wouldst thou pour out thy money to those friends
that should purchase it ! And why wouldst thou do all this, but
because thou doubtest not of the truth of the report ? Were our
hearts no less convinced of the designation of an everlasting burn
ing to the rebellious and impenitent, could we less bestir ourselves ?
To this purpose also it will much conduce, that we meditate often
of our own frailty and momentariness : no evil can fasten upon
the soul of that man that hath death ever before his eyes ; that
father said well, "He easily contemns all things that thinks to
die every day :" the servant that said My master defers his
coming was he that revelled in the house, and beat his fellows ;
he durst not have done it if he had seen his master at the door.
No whit less prevalent a remedy of security is a firm resolution
of the soul to repel the first motions to whatsoever sin ; whose
nature, as experience tells us, is to gather strength by continu
ance. Commonly, all onsets are weakest in their beginnings, and
are then most easily and safely resisted. Custom can never grow
where no action will be admitted to make a precdent. It is well
observed by that learned chancellor1, of Paris, that some filthy
1 Cyr. in Lev. lib. ix. [Op. Paris. 1605. tationes foedas, noxias et blasphemas —
torn. i. p. 88.] ilia? potius vincuntur contemnendo nee
' " Cogitationes fcedae, blasphemas, respondendoeisquampugnando." — Gers.
noxiae, potius vincuntur contemnendo, Quaestiones quaedam, &c. Ed. ij^.Pars
quam respondendo." Gerson. de Pre- II. xxxiv. N.]
cept. Theolog. ["Porro quod ad cogi-
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. B b

370 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
and blasphemous cogitations are better overcome by contemning
them than by answering them. If either way they be repulsed,
the heart is safe from security.
But, thirdly, if we have been so far overtaken as to give way
to the perpetration of evil, our care must be to work our hearts to
a speedy renovation by repentance. If sin have seized upon the
soul, it may not settle there ; this is that which will else work a
palpable indisposition. Let a knife be wet with the strongest
aquafortis, and presently wiped dry again, the metal is yet smooth,
and bewrayeth no change; but if that moist fire be suffered to
rest upon it a while, it eats into the blade, and leaves behind some
deep notes of corrosion. It is delay in these cases that breeds the
utmost danger : let a candle that is casually put out be speedily
rekindled at the next flame, neither is the scent offended nor the
wick unapt to be straightway reenlightened ; stay but a while, the
whole room complains of the noisome smell, and it will cost per
haps much puffing and dipping in ashes ere it can recover the
lost light. That which Solomon advises in matter of suretyship
(Prov. vi.4, 5.) we must do in the case of our sin; speedily extri
cate ourselves, and give no sleep to our eyes till we be freed from
so dangerous an engagement.
Moreover, unto these, it must be our main care not to give any
check to the conscience upon whatsoever occasions. That power
hath, as a keen, so a tender edge, and easy to be rebated. When
that dictates to a man some duty, or the refraining of some doubts
ful action, he that disobeys it makes way for an induration ; for
when that faculty hath once received a discouragement, it will not
be apt to control us in evil, but grows into a careless neglect of
what we do or omit, and so declines to an utter senselessness. As
therefore we must be careful to have our consciences duly regu
lated by the infallible word of God ; so must we be no less careful
still to follow the guidance of our conscience in all our ways. And
that all these things may be performed with effect, we must be
sure that we do constantly observe all our set exercises of piety ;
hearing, reading, receiving the blessed sacrament ; prayer, and
especially strict self-examination, whereby we may come to espy
our first failings, and correct our very propensions to evil. Ones
said well, that " nature doth not more abhor vacuity than grace
doth idleness." Now all these, if they seem harsh and tedious to
s Gers. serm. de Domin. Evangel. "Plus abhorret gratia otium, quam natura
vacuum." [Ed. 1514. Pars II. XLI. X.]

Sect. XIV.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 371
corrupt nature; yet to the renewed heart, familiarly conversant
in them, nothing is more pleasing and cordial. The philosopher
could say, and find, that "virtuous actions are delightful to well
disposed minds1;" insomuch as it is defined for the surest argu
ment of a good habit fully acquired, that we find contentment and
delectation in good performances.
Lastly, because ill-used prosperity is apt to obdure the heart,
we must be sure to settle in ourselves a right estimation of all
these worldly things, which indeed are as they are taken.
I may well say of riches as the Jewish rabbins had wont to
say of their Cabala, With a good heart they are good ; otherwise,
they are no better than the mammon of iniquity ; and indeed
worse than want ; but at their best, they are such as are utterly
unable to yield true contentment to the soul. They are good for
use, ill for fruition ; they are for the hand to employ, not for the
heart to set up his rest in.
Hereupon it is that the holiest men have still both inclined and
persuaded to their contempt. That great master u of meditation
applauded it iu his friend the cardinal of Cambray as the happiest
condition, That all these earthly and temporal things which his
eye beheld were tedious unto him. And St. Bernard" magnifies
in this name his dear acquaintance, Gilbert, bishop of London,
that even in that state he would live poor; and the same fathery
would have his monk to take most joy, and think himself then
welcomest, when the coarsest fare was set before him. Answer
able whereunto, but beyond it, was the diet of Valentine11, a
rigorous votary, who for ten years together would eat nothing
but bread dipt in water wherein wormwood was steeped ; and of
that other his fellow, who steeped his bread in lye, that he might
eat ashes with the prophet.
Not to run into extremities, it is a sure and necessary counsel,
which the Psalmist gives us, to resolve, if riches increase, not to
set our hearts upon them, Ps. Ixii. 10, to account them no other
than as good helps and needful impediments ; and all worldly
contentments such as are not worthy to take us up.
It was a question moved to""the founder of some strict devo-
t Tofs Si cpiKoicaXois. . .al nar" ipfrijv * Ep. 24. ad Gilbertum Londini. [Paris.
irp&(ets. . .clolvTjbeiat. Arist. Eth. lib. i. [9.] 1690. tom.i. col. 41.]
» "Bene habet, quod molestant te y Ber. Specul. Monachorum. [Id.
omnia, quae cernis, utique temporalia et Tom. II. 799. D.]
mortalia," &c. Gers. epist. ad Card. Ca. * [Alb. de Pisis] Lib. Conformitat ;
meracens. [Lib. i.] Conform. 8.
B b 2

372 Tlie Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
tionists, " Whether they might laugh with all their hearta :" and it
is answered negatively, Non licet. And the devout governor of
the votaries of Clarevel could give charge to his religious, Non de
bet totius manducare : and it is reported by the writer of his life,
if he heard any of his dorture snorting in his sleep, he would chide
that man, as sleeping carnally and secularly. Surely the world is
and should be the same to them and us, who have no less engaged
ourselves to a professed hostility unto all the vanities thereof;
and have no more hearty share in the pomps and pleasures of it
than the most reclused anchorites.
At the best, this earth can be no other than our valley of tears
and region of our pilgrimage. Our Giraldus Cambrensisb tells us,
that his St. Brendan, upon long and wearisome travel, at last
went so far as to come to the sight of the earthly paradise. They
may that list believe it; but sure I am, never any mortal eye,
since the angel brandished his sword there, could find aught
worthy the name of a paradise in this inferior world. Here is pur
gatory enough, and perhaps some hell above-ground : but if, as
Orteliusc of late held, that all the whole earth was, at the first,
paradise, any man shall now think that any part of it is so still,
I shall pity him, and think him worthy the pleasure of these
earthly torments.
For us, if we would have our souls safe, we must learn, with
the blessed apostle, so to use the world, as if we used it not ; and
strive to attain to the equable temper of that holy man'1 whose face
was neither darkened with sorrow nor smoothed with laughter ;
as well knowing, that what affection soever the world wins of
us is lost unto Gode. Thus, if we shall keep ourselves care
fully from the trade of sin, and from the fascination of the world,
we shall be sure that our hearts shall not thus be deaded with
security. Section XV.
The no less direct, but more active opposite to holy fear, is
presumption. 1 " Si ex toto corde ridere non licet :'' litatem." [Thes. Geog. v. Paradisus.]
Resp. "Negative." Reg. Benedicti. u. 32. * S. Martin. "Faciem [ejus] non sus-
b Girald. Cambr. Praefat. ad Tract, de citavit moeror, nee levigavitrisus." Ber.
Mirac. [Topogr. Hibern. apud Camden. Spec. Monach. [Arnulfi de Boeriis. Op.
Angl. Francof. 1603. p. 731.] Bernardi. Bened. Ed. torn. ii. p. 817.]
« Abrah. Ortel. In the Geograph. • "Quanto [namque] inferius delec-
" Ego vero Paradisum ubique fuisse puto, tamur, tanto a superno amore disjun-
ante Adami nempe lapsum ; et non lo- gimur." Ber, de Interiore Domo.
cum significare, sed loci naturam et qua- [0. xxv.]

Sect. XV.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 373
We presume, when, out of an unjust self-love, we entertain an
higher opinion of our spiritual estate than there is cause, whether
in respect of the way or of the end : God's favour, as the way ;
salvation, as the end. We are apt to overween our interest in
God's favour, and our assured safety thereby : commonly upon a
double ground, either matter of event or matter of ability : for
either we misinterpret fair events as pledges of happiness and
safety, or we mistake those qualities for true graces which are
either mere appearances, or perhaps no better than very enormi
ties. Millions of men miscarry both ways ; and are therefore so
far from fear, as that they go dancing towards their hell.
It was the strong bulwark which the Egyptian Jews set up
against all Jeremy's menaces, We will burn incense to the queen
qf heaven, and pour md drink offerings to her, as we have done,
we and our fathers, our kings and our princes, in the cities of
Judah, and in the streets qf Jerusalem : for then we had plenty
of victuals, and were well, and saw no evil; Jer. xliv. 17. Had
their belly been their god, their argument had held well ; that deity
is best pleased with store of cates ; but the true God, many times,
even with quails sends leanness.
Carnal hearts know not how to measure felicity but by the
affluence of what most pleases them ; and that pleases them most
which gives most contentment to their sense and appetite : wherein
if their desires be answered, they are soon transported from
themselves, and now can be no other than the great favourites of
heaven. If Uzziah once feel himself grown strong, his heart is
lifted up ; 2 Chron. xxvi. 15, 16 : why should not a censer fit him
no less than a sceptre? The great dragon of Egypt, when he
hath lien at ease a while in the swollen waters of his Nilus, can
say, My river is mine own, and I have made it for myself/ Ezek.
xxix. 3. And who is there that hath fished successfully in this sea
of the world, but is ready to sacrifice unto his own nets ; and says
within himself, "Had I not been so good, I had not sped so well ?"
Our naturalists truly observe, that the most poisonous flies are
bred in the sweetest fruit-trees ; so are these most dangerous
presumptions in an outward happiness of condition. Let an
Amalekitish Agag be but a little made of, he comes in delicately,
and says, " Surely, the bitterness of death is overpast, 1 Sam. xv.
32, when a king hath been indulgent, a prophet will not be
bloody : all is safe : there may be hope of my crown ; there can
be no danger of my head." Hereupon it is, that, as those whose

374 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book 1 1.
heads are laid upon down pillows are not apt to hear noise, the
over-prosperous have their ears precluded against all threats of
peril, all counsels of reformation, as thinking they neither need
to wish themselves better, nor to fear being worse.
And while they applaud themselves as the only darlings, they
look overly and scornfully upon the meaner estate of others ;
and pass deep censures upon the adversities of their miserable
neighbours, as if they could not fare ill if they were not so.
Job cannot be afflicted, if he were not an hypocrite. Doth the
tower of Siloe, like some dreadful pitfall, overwhelm eighteen
citizens of Jerusalem ? Luke xiii. 4 ; they were more heinous sin
ners than their fellows. Doth a viper seize upon St. Paul's hand ?
Acts xxviii. 4 ; Doubtless, this man is a murderer, whom venge
ance suffereth not to live.
Thus, the vain hearts of sensual men are carried with those
outward events which God never meant for the distinction of
either love or hatred. Those that are rich in these proud con
ceits make their imaginary wealth their strong city, which they
please themselves in thinking impregnable ; and as foolish Micah
argued a necessity of God's future beneficence to him by the
good that he had done in procuring a Levite to his priest, Judges
xvii. 13; so these flatter themselves with an assurance ofGod's
present favour by the benefits which God hath showered down
upon them : wherein it falls out oft as it did with the riflers of
Semiramis's tomb, who, where they expected to find the richest
treasure, met with a deadly poison.
Neither is it easy to know, whether that other presumption, of
abilities, be not at least equally frequent and dangerous. The
proud angel of the church of Laodicea could say, I am rich, and
increased with goods, and have need of nothing ; not knowing
that he was wretched, miserable, poor, blind, naked.
How many have we heard to boast of those graces whereto
they have been perfect strangers ! How have we known some,
that have pretended to no less illumination than Pisanusf reports
of John of Alverne ; who, in a rapture, was elevated above every
creature, and his soul swallowed up in the abyss of the divinity,
when it hath been indeed nothing: but a fanatical illusion ! How
ordinarily do we find men challenging no mean share in a lively
faith, spiritual joy, fervent zeal, true sanctity ; when, in the mean
while, they have embraced nothing but the clouds of their own
f l.ib. Oonformit.

Sect. XV.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 375
fancies, instead of these heavenly graces ; and by this means
have stript themselves of the possibility of those holy virtues
which they falsely soothed in themselves ! For who can care to
seek for that which he thinks he hath already ?
Men do not so much covet as arrogate spiritual gifts. Every
Zidkijah can say, Which way went the Spirit qf God from me
to speak unto thee ? i Kings xxii. 24 : and, like a spiritual epi
cure, can clap himself on the breast with, Soul, take thine ease;
thou hast grace enough laid up for many years. Luke xii. 19.
From this opinion of satiety arises a necessary carelessness of
better endeavours, and a contemptuous undervaluation of the poor
stock of grace in others : it being commonly incident into these
presuming souls that was of old wont to be said of the Tartars,
that they are better invaders of other men's possessions than
keepers of their own : those censures then, which they should
spend upon their own secret corruptions, they are ready to cast
upon the seeming enormities of their neighbours ; and, as if they
would go contrary to the apostle's charge, Be not highminded,
but fear, these men are highminded, and fear not.
The way leads to the end ; the presumption of the way to the
presumption of the end ; overweening and misprision of grace, to
an overreckoning of an undue salvation.
Good God ! with what confidence have I heard some, not over-
conseionable men, talk of the assurance of their heaven ! as if the
way thither were so short and so plain, that they could not miss
it ; as if that passage had neither danger nor difficulty ; as if it
were but a remove from the lobby to the great chamber, wherein
they can neither err nor fall. Here need no harsh exercises of
mortification. Here are no misdoubts of God's desertions, no
self-conflicts, no flashes of troubled consciences, but all fair and
smooth. Have they sinned ? the score is crossed by their surety :
have they forfeited their souls? their ransom is paid: is justice
offended ? mercy hath satisfied. Shortly, they have, by Acesius's
ladder, climbed up into heaven, and stolen the sight of the book
of life, and found their name there ; and who can obliterate it ?
I cannot forget a bold word, which, many years ago, I heard fall
from a man whom I conceived not to have had any extraordinary
reason of confidence : " If I should hear God say, ' There shall
but one man be saved;' I would straight say, 'That is I, Lord.'"
Surely, the man was in good favour with himself, in what terms
soever he stood with the Almighty.

376 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
Not that I condemn an holy and well-grounded resolution of
our spiritual estate. I know who hath charged us to give dili
gence to make our calling and election sure : had it not been at
all feasible, our wise and good God had not tasked our diligence
with it ; and had it been easy and obvious, it might, even without
diligence of study and endeavour, have been effected.
Now, as ones said of evangelical councils, I must say of this
high pitch of Christianity ; It is not for every man to mount up
this steep hill of assurance : every soul must breathe and pant
towards it as he may, even as we would and must, to perfection :
he is as rare as happy that attains it. Give me a man that hath
worn out himself with a strict austerity ; who, by many secret
bickerings, hath mastered his sturdy and rebellious corruptions ;
who, in a trembling awfulness, walks constantly with his God,
keeping a severe watch over all his ways, assiduous and fervent in
his devotions ; shortly, who hath spent his time in heaven before
hand : why should I not believe that God hath sealed up to such
a soul an assecurance of his future glory ? Some transient acts of
interposed doubting may and will glance into the holiest heart ;
but a formed habit of doubt falls not into such an eminence of
grace. This is not a lesson for every novice to take out; whose
main care must ever be to work out his salvation with fear and
trembling. As for spiritual security, let him labour towards it,
as that which he would most gladly compass ; but not brag of it
too soon, as that which he hath already compassed.
Section XVI.
As there is no disease incident into the body for which nature
hath not provided a remedy ; so neither is there any spiritual
complaint incident into the soul for which grace affords not a
redress. The way of the general cure of presumption is, to take
a just estimate of our privileges and abilities, and to work the
heart to a true self-dejection and humiliation under the mighty
hand of God.
Particularly, he can never presume upon those outward com
modities that seriously considers how they are valued by the
Owner and Giver of them. Where are the most curious and rich
pearls laid up, but in the mud of the sea ? And what is the earth
but marsupium Domini, as St. Malachy termed it of old; "God's
S Non est omnium volare ad alta montana conciliorum. — Gers. [Pars II.
xxxix. Y. ed. 1514.]

Sect. XVI.] The Remedy qf Profaneness. 377
purse," wherein he puts his most precious jewels and metals. And
what baser piece hath the world than this repository?
And if it please him to lay them out, how doth he think them
worthy to be bestowed ? He fills the belly of the ungodly with
his hidden treasure, saith the Psalmist; and, The earth is given
into the hands of the ivicked, saith holy Job in his answer to
Bildad, Job ix. 24 : neither is it other that he observes in his
reply to Zophar; The tabernacles ofthe robbers prosper ; and they
that provoke God are secure ; into whose hands God bringeth
abundantly, Job xii. 6. How then can we esteem those things
as pledges of favour which God makes choice to cast upon
enemies? which mere natural men have contemned, as not worthy
their affection or regard ? With what scorn did those naked
Brachmanni (the relation is fathered upon St. Ambrose) repel
the proffered gold ?
And if at any time it hath pleased Him whose the earth is, and
the fulness thereof, to lade his dear ones with this thick clay, as
himself styles it, and to store them with abundance, he doth it
not without a further blessing of sanctification. Some kinds of
fishes there are that pass for delicate with our great masters of
the palate, which yet must have the dangerous string in their
backs pulled out ere they can be safely fed upon : such is worldly
wealth and prosperity : the wise and holy God plucks out their
venom when he will have them served up for dainties to his
children's table. Or if he find that the deceitfulness of riches
will be apt to beguile good souls, he deals with them as careful
gardeners are wont to do by those trees from which they expect
fair fruit — abate the number of their blossoms, as more caring
they should be good than full.
Lastly then, how can we account those arguments of favour
which the best have had least ? Even the great Lord of all the
world, for whom heaven itself was too strait, when he would come
down and converse with men, could say, The foxes have holes, and
the fowls of heaven have nests ; but the Son of man hath not
where to rest his head: and when the tribute money was demanded
is fain to send for it to the next fish : shortly, wore out his few
days upon earth in so penal a way, that his sorrows were read in
his face ; insomuch as when he was but two-and- thirty years of
age the by-standers could say, Thou art not yet fifty.
What proofs of divine favour then are these to presume upon,

378 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
which the worst have ; which the best want ; which God ofttimes
gives in judgment, denies in mercy?
Section XVII.
There cannot be a more sure remedy for presumption of abilities
than to take an exact survey of our graces, both of their truth
and degrees. Satan is a great impostor ; he that was once an
angel of hght knows how to seem so still : when he left to be an
angel, he began to be a serpent : and his continual experience
cannot but have added to his art ; so as he knows how to counter
feit graces, both in himself and his, in so exquisite a fashion, that
it is not for every eye to discern them from true. We see to
what perfection mechanical imitation hath attained : what precious
stone hath nature yielded which is not so artificially counterfeited,
both in the colour and lustre, that only the skilful lapidary can
descry it? pearls so resembled, that, for whiteness, clearness,
smoothness, they dare contend with the true ! gold, so cunningly
multiplied and tinctured, that neither the eye can distinguish it
nor the touch, scarce the crucible : so as art would seem to be an
Havilah, ivhose gold is good; while nature is an Ophir, whose
gold is exceeding good! What marvel is it then, if crafty spirits
can make so fair representations of spiritual excellences as may
well deceive ordinary judgments? the pythoness's Samuel was so
like the true, that Saul adored him for such ; and Jannes and
Jambres made their wooden serpent to crawl so nimbly and hiss
so fiercely, that till Moses' serpent devoured theirs, the beholders
knew not whether were more formidable. Some false things seem
more probable than many truths. There must be therefore much
serious and accurate disquisition, ere we can pass a true judgment
betwixt apparent and real graces.
Neither would it ask less than a volume to state the differences
whereby we may discriminate counterfeit virtues from true. In
all their several specialties, they are faced alike ; they are clad
alike ; the marks are inward ; and scarce discernible by any but
the owner's eyes. In a generality, we shall thus descry them in
our own hearts. True grace is right-bred of a divine original,
and comes down from above, even from the Father of "Lights ;
God's Spirit, working with and by his own ordinances, produceth
it in the soul, and feeds it by the same holy means it is wrought :
the counterfeit is earth-bred, arising from mere nature out of the

Sect. XVIII.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 379
grounds of sensuality. True grace drives at no other end than
the glory of the Giver, and scorns to look lower than heaven ;
the counterfeit aims at nothing but vain applause or carnal ad
vantage, not caring to reach an inch above his oWn head. True
grace is apt to cross the plausiblest inclinations of corrupt nature,
and cheers up the heart to a delightful performance of all good
duties, as the best pastime ; the counterfeit is a mere parasite of
fleshly appetite, and finds no harshness but in holy devotions.
True grace is undauntedly constant in all opposition, and, like a
well wrought vault, is so much the stronger by how much more
weight it undergoes : this metal is purer for the fire ; this eagle
can look upon the hottest sun : the counterfeit shows most glori
ously in prosperity ; but when the evil day cometh, it looks like
the skin of a dead chameleon, nasty and deformed. Lastly, true
grace is best alone ; the counterfeit is all for witnesses.
In brief, if, in an holy jealousy of our own deceitfulness, we
shall put daily interrogatories to our hearts, and pass them under
severe examinations, we shall not be in danger to presume upon
our mistaken graces ; but the more we search, the more cause we
shall find of our humiliation, and of an awful recognition of God's
mercy and our own unworthiness. Section XVIII.
The way not to presume upon salvation, is, in an humble
modesty to content ourselves with the clearly revealed will of our
Maker : not prying into his counsels, but attending his commands.
It is a grave word wherein the Vulgar translation expresses that
place of Solomon, Scrutator majestatis, opprimetur a gloria :
He that searcheth into majesty shall be overwhelmed with glory,
Prov. xxv. 27. Amongst those sixteen places of the Bible
which in the Hebrew are marked with a special note of regard,
that is one : The secret things belong unto the Lord our God ;
but those things which are revealed belong unto us and to our
children for ever, that we may do all the ivords of this law,
Deut. xxix. 29. Wherein our main care must be, both not to
sever in our conceit the end from the means, and withal to take
the means along with us in our way to the end. It is for the
heavenly angels to climb down the ladder from heaven to earth ; it
is for us only to climb up from earth to heaven. Bold men! what
do we begin at God's eternal decree of our election, and thence
descend to the effects of it in our effectual calling, in our lively

380 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
and steadfast faith, in our sad and serious repentance, in our holy
and unblamable obedience, in our unfailable perseverance ? This
course is saucily preposterous. What have we to do to be rifling
the hidden counsels of the Highest ? Let us look to our own ways.
We have his word for this ; that if we do truly believe, repent,
obey, persevere, we shall be saved ; that if we do heartily de
sire and effectually endeavour, in the careful use of his appointed
means, to attain unto these saving dispositions of the soul, we
shall be sure not to fail of the success. What need we to look
any farther, than conscionably and cheerfully to do what we are
enjoined, and faithfully and comfortably to expect what he hath
promised ? Let it be our care not to be wanting in the parts of
our duty to God, we are sure he cannot be wanting in his gracious
performances unto us. But if we, in a groundless conceit of an
election, shall let loose the reins to our sinful desires and vicious
practices, thereupon growing idle or unprofitable, we make divine
mercy a pander to our uncleanness, and justly perish in our wicked
presumption. Section XIX.
The other extreme follows. It may seem an harsh word, but
it is a true one ; That there may be an evil fear of a good God ;
a fear of horror, and a fear of distrust That God, who is love
itself, is terrible to a wicked heart. Even in the beginning our
first progenitor ran from the face of his late Maker, and hid him
in the thickets : for it is a true observation of Tertullian, No
wickedness can be done vvithout fear, because not without the
conscience of doing it. Neither can any man flee from himself,
as Bernard wittily. And this conscience reads the terrible things
that God writes against the sinner, and holds the glass wherein
guilty eyes may see the killing frowns of the Almighty. Now
offensive objects cause the spirits to retire, as philosophy and
experience teacheth us ; whereupon follows a necessary trepida
tion in the whole frame of the body. And now the wicked heart
could wish there were no God ; or, which is all one, that this God
had not power to avenge himself : and finding that, after all his
impotent volitions, the Almighty will be still and ever himself, he
is unspeakably affrighted with the expectation of that just hand
which he cannot avoid. This terror, if through the improvement
of God's mercy at the last it drive the sinner to a true penitence,
makes an happy amends for its own anguish : otherwise, it is but
the first flash of that unquenchable fire which is prepared for

Sect. XX.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 381
damned souls. In this case, men do not so much fear God as are
afraid of him ; and such a torturing fear is never but joined with
heart-burning and hatred : wherein sinners demean themselves to
God as they say the lamprey doth to the fisher, by whose first
blow that fish is said to be dulled and astonished, but enraged
with the next and following. Wretched men ! it is not God's
fault that he is terribly just ; no, it is his glory that he is merci
fully terrible. It is not for me to say, as Spalatensis" cites from
Cyril, that those who would not be saved are no less beholden to
the bounty of the good God than those that are brought home
to glory. I know and bless God for the difference ; but certainly,
God is wonderfully gracious, as he is also infinitely just, even to
those that will needs incur damnation : having tendered unto
them many powerful helps to their repentance, which he hath
with much patience and longanimity expected. That God there
fore is just, it is his own praise ; that he is terrible, we may thank
ourselves : for were it not for our wickedness there were nothing
in God not infinitely amiable.
Seest thou then, 0 sinful man, nothing at all in God's face but
frowns and fury ? Doth every beam of his angry eye dart ven
geance into thy soul ; so as thou wouldest fain run away from his
presence, and wooest the rocks and mountains to fall upon thee
and hide thee from the sight of that dreadful countenance?
Cleanse thy hands ; purge thine heart ; clear thine eyes with the
tears of true contrition ; and then look up and tell me, whether
thou dost not see an happy change of aspect ; whether thou canst
now discern aught in that face but a glorious loveliness, fatherly
indulgence, unconceivable mercy; such as shall ravish thy soul
with a divine love, with a joy unspeakable and glorious.
Section XX.
Seldom ever is the fear of horror separated from a fear of dis
trust, which in the height of it is that which we call despair ;
for when the soul apprehends a deep fear of God's dereliction, it
cannot but be filled with horror. Now as the holy and well mo
derated fear gives glory to God in all his attributes, so this ex
tremity of it affronts and dishonours him in them all ; but espe
cially in his mercy and truth. In his truth, suggesting that God
will not make good his promises ; in his mercy, suggesting that
h De Repub. Ecclesiast. lib. 7. cap. [xi.] nu. 121, [122.]

382 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
he either cannot or will not forgive and save. It was a true ob
servation of St. Hilary', that "it is not the least office and effect
of faith, to fear :" for that it is said by the prophet Isaiah, He
shall fill them with the spirit of the fear ofthe Lord ; and again,
we are charged to work out our salvation with fear. But there
cannot be an act more opposite to faith than to fear distrustfully ;
to despair in fearing ; none more injurious, either to God or our
own souls. For surely, as Cyrilk well, "the wickedness of our
offences to God cannot exceed his goodness toward us:" the
praise whereof from his creature he affects and esteems so highly,
as if he cared not in any other notion to be apprehended by us,
proclaiming himself no otherwise in the Mount, than the Lord, the
Lord God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant
in goodness and truth ; keeping mercy for thousands ; forgiving
iniquity, and transgressions, and sin; adding only one word, to
prevent our too much presumption — that will by no means clear
the guilty, Exod. xxxiv. 6, 7 ; which to do were a mere contra
diction to his justice. Of all other, therefore, God hates most to
be robbed of this part of his glory. Neither is the wrong done to
God more palpable than that which is done herein unto ourselves,
in barring the gates of heaven upon our souls ; in breaking open
the gates of hell, to take them in ; and in the mean time striving
to make ourselves miserable, whether God will or no. And surely,
as our experience tells us concerning the estate of our bodily in
dispositions, that there is more frequent sickness in summer, but
more deadly in winter ; so we find it here, other sins and spiritual
distempers are more common ; but this distrustful fear and de
spair of mercy, wliich chills the soul with a cold horror, is more
mortal. For the remedy whereof, it is requisite that the heart should be
throughly convinced of the superabundant and ever-ready mercy
of the Almighty ; of the infallible and unfailable truth of all his
gracious engagements; and, in respect of both, be made to con
fess, that heaven can never be but open to the penitent. It is a
sweet word, and a true one, of St. Bernard; "In thy book, 0
Lord, are written all that do what they can, though they cannot
' "Non est minimum oflicium fidei [Ov vticq aov ra avvaxBevra apapT-fipara
metus." Hilar. Ps. in lxv. [lxvi. 9.] ri irAfiBos ra>v oiKTippuv tov ©eoO. Cat. II.
k "Non superat bonitatem Dei, ma- de Poenit. vi.]
litia delictorum." Cyril, in Levit. 1, ix.

Sect. XX.] The Remedy of Profaneness. 383
do what they ought1." Neither doth God only admit, but he in
vites, but he entreats, but he importunes men to be saved : what
could he do more, unless he would offer violence to the will, which
were no other than to destroy it, and so to undo the best piece of
his own workmanship ? It is the way of his decree and proceed
ings to dispose of all things sweetly ; neither is it more against
our nature than his, to force his own ends ; and when he sees
that fair means will not prevail to win us from death, he is pleased
feelingly to bemoan it as his own loss ; Why will ye die, 0 house
qf Israel? As for the stable truth of his promises, it is so ever
lasting, that heaven and earth, in their vanishing, shall leave it
standing fast ; his title is, Amen ; and, Faithful is he that hath
promised, ivho will also do it; his very essence can no more fail
than his word. He that fears therefore that God will be less
than his promise, let him fear that God will cease to be himself.
It was the motto of that witty and learned doctor Donne, the late
dean of Paul's, which I have seen more than once written in
Spanish with his own hand, " Blessed be God, that he is God :" di
vinely, like himself; as the being of God is the ground of all his
blessed ascriptions, so of all our tirmitude, safety, consolation ;
since the veracity and truth of God, as his other holy attributes,
are no other than his eternal essence. Fear not therefore, 0 thou
weak soul, that the Almightv can be wanting to himself in failing
thee. He is Jehovah, and his counsels shall stand. Fear and
blame thine own wretched infirmities ; but the more weak thou art
in thyself, be so much the stronger in thy God; by how much
more thou art tempted to distrust, cling so much the closer to
the Author and Finisher of thy salvation.
Thus, if we shall hold an even course, betwixt security on the
one part, and horror and distrust on the other ; if the fortified
and exalted eyes of our souls, being cleared from all inward and
ambient impediments, shall have constantly fixed themselves upon
the ever-present majesty of God; not without a spiritual light-
someness and irradiation, and therewith an awful complacency of
soul in that glorious sight ; and from thence shall be cast down
upon our own vileness, throughly apprehending how much worse
than nothing we are, in and of ourselves, in the sight of God ; we
shall be put into a meet capacity of an holy and well mixed fear.
And if now our hearts, thus enlightened shall be taken up with
1 "In libra tuo scribuntur omnes, debent, non possunt." Bern. Apol. ad
qui, quod possunt, faciunt ; etsi, quod Gulielm. Abbat.

384 The Remedy of Profaneness. [Book II.
an inward adoration of the infinite power and greatness of God,
manifested in the framing and ordering of this visible world, and
of the infinite goodness and mercy of God, showed in the marvel
lous work of man's redemption, and shall be careful to express
this inward worship in all due reverence, upon all occasions, to
the name, the word, the services, the house, the messengers of the
Almighty ; withal, if our humble souls shall meekly subject and
resign themselves over to the good pleasure of God in all things ;
being ready to receive his fatherly corrections with patience, and
his gracious directions with obedience ; lastly, if we shall have
settled in our hearts a serious care of being always approved to
God in whatsoever actions, and a childlike loathness and dread to
give any offence unto so dear and glorious a Majesty ; we shall
have attained unto this blessed fear which we seek for, and be
happily freed from that wicked indevotion and profaneness to which
the world is so much and so dangerously subject : which I beseech
the God of heaven to work out in all readers, to his glory in their
salvation. Amen.

CHRISTIAN MODERATION
IN TWO BOOKS.

BY JOSEPH EXON.

CHKISTIAN PEOPLE WHEEESOEVER ;
BUT ESPECIALLY TO THOSE OF THIS WESTERN DIOCESE ;
AND THEREIN,
TO THE HONOURABLE NOBILITY, THE REVEREND AND LEARNED
CLERGY, THE WORSHIPFUL GENTRY, THE HONEST AND FAITHFUL COM
MONALTY, OF THE COUNTIES OF DEVON AND CORNWALL,
J. EXON.
WISHETH THE CONTINUANCE AND INCREASE OF (THAT WHEREOF
HE TREATS) ALL CHRISTIAN MODERATION, BOTH IN
OPINION AND PRACTICE.

Recensui dissertationem hanc de moderatione Christiana, duabus parti-
bus absolutam, quarum altera de moribus agit, altera de doctrina ; utraque et
bonis moribus, et doctrinse Ecclesise Anglicanse consentanea.
Oct. 4. 1639. Imprimatur.
JO.jVLSOP.
THE CONTENTS. BOOK I.
MODERATION IN PRACTICE.
Sect. I. — Of the use and necessity of moderation in general.
Sect. II. — Practical moderation in matter of pleasure.
Wherein first of the pleasures of the palate.
1 . Of the excess of them.
1. Ofthe other extremity of defect.
Sect. III. — Of some fextremities in other usages of the body.
Sect. IV. — Of the extremes in the cases of lust.
Sect. V. — The liberty that God hath given us in the use of his creatures, both for
necessity and lawful delight.
Sect. VI. — The just bounds of moderation in the liberal use ofGod's creatures.
And therein our limitation in our respects to God.
BP. HALL, VOL. VJ . C C

386
Sect. VII. — The limitation of our liberty in respect of the pleasures themselves :
first for the kind, then for the quantity and quality of them.
Sect. VIII. — The moderation of the pleasure of conjugal society.
Sect. IX. — The limitation of all our pleasures in the manner of using them.
Sect. X. — Motives to moderation in the use of all our pleasures.
Sect. XI. — Ofthe moderation of our desires in matter of wealth and honour, &c.
Motives to that moderation.
Sect. XII. — Of the moderation of our passions : and therein first of our sorrow.
The cautions requisite thereto.
Of the kinds of sorrow : and first of worldly sorrow.
The temperaments thereof.
Sect. XIII. — Of spiritual sorrow, and the moderation thereof.
Sect. XIV. — Of the moderation of the passion of fear.
The dangerous effects of that passion.
Particularly of the fear of death.
Strong motives for the remedy of it.
Sect. XV. — Of the moderation of the passion of anger.
The ill effects of it.
The distinction of zealous and vicious anger.
Arguments for the mitigation of our anger.
BOOK II.
MODERATION IN MATTER OF JUDGMENT.
Sect. I. — Of the danger of immoderation in matter of judgment, and of the remedy
in general.
Sect. II. — Lukewarmness to be avoided in religion.
Sect. III. — Zeal required in the matters of God, but to be tempered with dis
cretion and charity.
Sect. IV. — Rules for moderation in judgment.
The first Rule : To distinguish of persons.
Sect. V. — Second Rule : To distinguish of truths and errors.
Sect. VI. — Third Rule : The avoidance of curiosity in the disquisition of truths.
Therein of the simplicity of former times, and the overlashing of ours.
Sect. VII. — Fourth Rule : To rest in those fundamental truths which are revealed
clearly in the scriptures.
Sect. VIII. — Fifth Rule : To be remiss and facile in unimporting verities.
First in our opinion.
Sect. IX. — And then also in our censure of the otherwiseminded.
Sect. X. — Sixth Ride : Not to rely upon the trust of an opposite in relating the
state of an opinion or person.
Examples of the injurious practices this way.
Sect. XI. — Seventh Rule : Not to judge of an adversary's opinion by the inferences
pretended to follow upon it, which are commonly very heinously aggravated.
The ingenuous proceedings of the ancient churches herein.
Sect. XII. — Eighth Rule : To keep opinions within their own bounds, not imputing
private men's conceits to whole churches.
Sect. XIII. — Ninth Rule : We may not draw the actions or manners of men to
the prejudice of their cause.
Sect. XIV. — Tenth Rule : That we must draw as near as we safely may to
Christian adversaries in lesser differences.
The cautions of complying with them.
Sect. XV. — Eleventh Rule : To restrain from all railing terms, anff'spiteful pro
vocations of each other in differences of religion.
Sect. XVI. — Twelfth Rule : That however our judgments differ in lesser verities,
we should compose our affections towards unity and peace.

CHRISTIAN MODERATION.

THE FIRST BOOK.
OF MODERATION IN MATTER OF PRACTICE.

Section I.
Of the use and necessity of moderation in general.
I cannot but second and commend that great clerk of Paris,
who, as our witty countryman Bromiarda reports, when king
Louis of France required him to write down the best word that
ever he had learnt, called for a fair skin of parchment, and in the
midst of it wrote this one word, measure ; and sent it sealed up
to the king. The king, opening the sheet, and finding no other
inscription, thought himself mocked by his philosopher, and calling
for him, expostulated the matter : but when it was showed him,
that all virtues and all religious and worthy actions were regulated
by this one word, and that without this virtue itself turned vicious,
he rested well satisfied. And so he well might ; for it was a word
well worthy of one of the seven sages of Greece ; from whom in
deed it was borrowed, and only put into a new coat ; for while he
said of old for his motto, "Nothing too muchb," he meant no
other but to comprehend both extremes under the mention of
one. Neither, in his sense, is it any paradox to say, that too
little is too much ; for as too much bounty is prodigality, so too
much sparing is niggardliness0; so as in every defect there is an
excess, and both are a transgression of measure.
Neither could aught be spoken, of more use or excellency : for
what goodness can there be in the world without moderation ;
whether in the use of God's creatures or in our own disposition
and carriage ? Without this, justice is no other than cruel rigour ;
mercy, unjust remissness ; pleasure, brutish sensuality ; love,
frenzy ; anger, fury ; sorrow, desperate mopishnesss ; joy, distem-
a Brom. Sum. Prsedic. [v. Discretio, c " Non est ergo temperantia in solis
D. vii. i .] resecandis superfiuis, est et in admit-
b MrjSiv dyav, "Nequid nimis." So tendis necessariis." Bern, de Consid.
Pythagoras : wivra pirpia. 1. i. c. 8. [Paris. 1719. torn. i. p. 419.]
C C 2

388 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
pered wildness ; knowledge, saucy curiosity ; piety, superstition ;
care, wracking distraction ; courage, mad rashness : shortly, there
can be nothing under heaven without it but mere vice and con
fusion. Like as in nature, if the elements should forget the tem
per of their due mixture, and encroach upon each other by excess,
what could follow but universal ruin ? or what is it that shall put
an end to this great frame of the world but the predominancy of
that last devouring fire ? It is therefore moderation by which this
inferior world stands; since that wise and great God who hath
ordained the continuance of it hath decreed so to contemper all
the parts thereof, that none of them should exceed the bounds of
their own proportion and degree to the prejudice of the other.
Tea, what is the heaven itself, but, as Gerson compares it well, as
a great clock regularly moving in an equal sway of all the orbs ;
without difference of poise, without variation of minutes ; in a con
stant state of eviternal evenness both of being and motion ? Neither
is it any other by which this little world of ours, whether of
body or mind, is upheld in any safe or tolerable estate: when
humours pass their stint, the body sickens ; when passions, the
mind. There is nothing therefore in the world more wholesome or
more necessary for us to learn, than this gracious lesson of mode
ration : without which, in very truth, a man is so far from being
a Christian, that he is not himself. This is the centre wherein all
both divine and moral philosophy meet ; the rule of life ; the go
verness of manners ; the silken string that runs through the pearl-
chain of all virtues; the very ecliptic line, under which reason
and religion move without any deviation; aud therefore most
worthy of our best thoughts, of our most careful observance.
Section II. — Practical moderation in matter qf pleasure; and
therein first of the excess ; and then of the other extremity
in defect.
What then is there incident into the whole course of human life,
but matter of practice or matter of speculation and judgment ? and
both these are swayed and ordered by moderation.
Practical moderation shall lead the way, as that which is most
worthy, and whereto the speculative is for the most part reduced,
and whereby it is mainly governed. This, howsoever it reacheth
to the managing of all the inward dispositions of the soul, and all
the outward carriages of hfe, and may therefore admit of so many

Sect. II.J Christian Moderation. 389
severalties of discourse as there are varieties of desires, incli
nations, actions, passions of man ; yet shall, for the tractation of
it, be confined to some few of those noted heads which we meet
with in every turn of this our earthly pilgrimage.
The chief employment of moderation is in the matter of plea
sure ; which, like an unruly and headstrong horse, is ready to run
away with the rider, if the strict curb of just moderation do not
hold it in : the indiscreet check whereof, also, may prove no less
perilous to an unskilful manager.
Ofthe extremes, (i) in the pleasures ofthe palate, (a) in other
usages ofthe body, (3) in tlie cases of lust.
The extremes of pleasures are in matter of diet and other
appurtenances of life, or in matter of lust.
We begin with the first ; wherein the extremes of both kinds
are palpable, and worthy both of our full consideration and care
ful accordance.
How prone we are to excess in these pleasures of the palate
appears too well, in that this temptation found place in paradise
itself. The first motive that inclined our liquorish grandmother
Eve, was, that she saw the tree was good for food ; and then
follows, that it ivas pleasant to the eyes : her appetite betrayed
her soul. And after, when in that first world men began to be
multiplied, (Gen. vi. 1,) that giantly brood of men-eaters, if we
may believe Berosusd, procured abortions, to pamper their glut
tony with tender morsels. Afterwards, even in the holy seed, we
find an Isaac, apt to misplace the blessing for a dish of venison,
and his son Esau selling his birthright for a mess of broth ; we
find Israel tempting God in the desert, and longing to be fed
with flesh, and cramming it in, till it came out of their nostrils,
Ps. Ixxviii. 29, Numb. xi. 20. We find too many under the gospel
whose belly is their god, and therein their bane. " By unsal
able greediness have many been dead," saith Ecclesiasticus, ch.
xxxvii. 3 1 : and how many do we see daily that dig their graves
with their teeth ; and do therefore perish, because they do not
put their knife to their throat ! Prov. xxiii. 2.
And as for immoderation in drinking, the first news that we
hear of wine is in Noah's drunkenness : he was the true Janus,
the inventer of the scruzing of the grape to his cost ; whom, if
d Beros. Baylonic. [Manducabant homines et procurabant aborsus, &c. Ed.
Witteberg. 1612. p. 6.]

390 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
the heathens celebrated, we justly censure, as beginning this glory
in shame. The next was in Lot's incest and stupidity, and, ever
since, wine is a mocker, as wise Solomon well styles it, Prov. xx. i .
The heathen have made a god of it, and given it the title of free
dom e. Abuse hath made it a devil, and turned that liberty into
licentiousness ; whereupon some foolish heretics have absurdly
ascribed it to that hellish original. Wine, saith the apostle,
wherein is excess, Eph. v. 18. How many have our eyes been
witnesses of, whom their unruly appetite this way hath turned
into beasts ! how many, into monsters of wickedness ! Certainly,
a drunkard is in, at all : neither is there any vice under heaven
from which he can secure himself. It is memorable that our
Jewish doctors'1 tell us of a certain Gentile king, who lighting
upon eleven of their learned and holy rabbins put them to theh'
choice, whether they would eat swine's flesh, or drink of their
ethnic wine, or lie with harlots : swine's flesh they hated, harlots
they professed to abhor, wine they yield unto ; but by that time
they had a while plied that bewitching liquor, all came alike to
them, both the flesh of swine and of harlots were easily admitted.
Experience yields us so woful instances of the lamentable effects
of drunkenness every day, that we need not dwell upon parti
culars. The other extreme is more rare ; and, though faulty enough,
yet less brutish. How many have all ages afforded, who, out of
a fear of complying too much with their appetite, have not stuck
to offer hard measure to nature ! not thinking they could be
godly enough, except they were cruel to themselves.
It is hard to believe the reports of the rigorous austerity of
some of the ancients : one of whom, Macariuss, could profess to
Evagrius, that in twenty years he had not taken his fill of bread
or water or sleep : another, Arsenius, would not give himself so
much ease, as to sit or stand in taking repast ; but was still wont
to eat walking ; professing that he would not gratify his body so
much as to yield it so much ease, and holding the time but lost
which he bestowed in feeding".
And for the quality of their sustenance, what shall we say to
the diet of some votaries ? Amongst whom, Laurence', bishop of
" iAfv9epios. Liber Pater. h [This is related, not of Arsenius, but
f Schichard. de Jur. Reg. Hebr. V. of Pior, Tltup irepiwaTwv ijaBitv.]
Bell. Gentilis Bex Pirgandicus, &c. ' Vita S. Laur.
» Socrat. l.iv. v. 23.

Sect. II.] Christian Moderation. 391
Dublin, was wont to eat no other bread- than that which was
mixed with lye, in emulation of him that said, / have eaten ashes
as bread, Ps. ch. 9. Friar Valentine k went beyond him, who
for ten years together did eat nothing but only bread dipt in
the juice of wormwood. I shall not need to press any other
instance of this kind than that which St. Jerome1 gives of Paul
the first hermit, who, living in a cave within the desert, was be
holden to a palmtree both for his diet and clothes ; whereto he
adds, Quod ne cui impossibile, &c. " Which that it may not
seem impossible to any man, I take the Lord Jesus and all his
angels to witness, that I have seen monks, whereof one shut up
for thirty years together, that lived only with barley bread and
muddy water." Thus he, Had not these men placed a kind of
holiness in crossing their palate, they might have fared otherwise.
When Francis of Assise was bidden to the great cardinal Hosti-
ensis to dinner, he pours down upon that curious damask cloth,
spread for better viands before them, all those scraps of alms out
of his sleeve which his good dames of the city had given him ; and
could say, that if the cardinal's cheer were better, yet his was
holier™. Yet even these parcels might be delicate (panis desi-
deriorum) in comparison of Daniel's pulse, or the Baptist's locusts,
or the Fuilletan's salads.
That which Eusebius casts upon St. James we see now prac
tised by the Carthusians and Minims, abstinence from flesh. Some
antiquity of tradition hath dieted St. Peter" with lupines, St.
Matthew with berries and herbs. Howsoever, I know those saints
had fared better : the one feasted his Master at his own house ;
the other fed on fish and honeycomb at his Master's last table,
and saw the sheet let down with all varieties of dainties, and
heard, Arise, Peter, kill and eat.
And if we yield so much to Baronius as to grant that St. Paul
was always abstemious, (though it follows not, as Lorinus well,
because for thirty days he complied with Nazarites in the temple,)
it is more than we owe him; since it is not like, he that pre
scribed wine to Timothy, a younger man, would forbear it him
self, upon the like or greater necessities.
This we are sure of, that this chosen vessel was careful to beat
downa his body ; and that many of those ancient worthies, the
* Lib. Conform. 8. n jje se Petrus. " Solo pane et olivis,
1 Hieron. in vit. Pauli. [Tom. iv. raroque oleribus utor." — Clem, de [re-
pars 2. p. 70. Paris. 1706.] bus] gestis [B.] Petri.
m Panis eleemosynae, panis sanctus. o {nrumd&iv.
Conform. Fruct. separatw.

392 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
great patterns of mortification, stinted their flesh with the straitest.
Good HilarionP, instead of barley, could threaten to feed this ass
of his with chaff: and devout Bernard 1 professes how much
wrong he had done to himself by this well meant rigour, in dis
abling him for better services : complaining, that he had by this
means turned a virtue into vice, and killed a subject while he
meant to subdue an enemy. And even their St. Francis1 him
self, at his death, could confess too late, that he had used his
brother body too hardly.
A faints imitation of which severity we find in those who now
adays turn religious abstinence into change of diet, and therein
place no little merit. For my part, I cannot yield there is more
delicacy in flesh than in other dishes. I remember it was the
word of that wise statesman of Rome, that it was never well with
them since a fish was sold for more than an ox ; and that famous
glutton could say of old, " That is the best flesh which is no
flesh:" and all experience shows, that oil, wine, shell-fishes, are
more powerful to stir and inflame nature than other duller li
quors, and viands of flesh, which are of more gross and heavy
nourishment: neither was it for nothing that the mycologists
feigned Venus to be bred of the sea. The ingenuity of Lindanus*
can confess how little these kinds of fasts differ from the most
exact gluttonies.
Let the fond Ebionites, Encratites, Manichees, hate the very
nature of some meats ; I am sure they are all alike to their
Maker: There is one fiesh offish, saith the holy apostle, i Cor.
xv. 39. That which goes into the body defiles not the man, saith
our Saviour. However therefore these differences are fit for civil
considerations, and in that regard are in all due obedience to
be strictly observed ; yet in spiritual respects they come not
within any view, as those which the Creator of sea and land
hath left, both in themselves and to him, equally indifferent.
Section III. — Of some extremities in other usages ofthe body.
The like austerities have been affected of old in other usages of
the" body; whether in apparel, lodging, restraint of recreations.
r Socrat. 1. iv. c. 23. [Hieron. in Vit. tempore [in diebus] Antonii, fuere [ex-
Hilar. Op. vol. iv. pars ii. p. 76.] stitere] monachi!" — Bern. Apolog. ad
1 Bern. Meditat. Devotiss. [piissinue. Gul. Abbat. [c. ix ]
c. x. § 29. S.Bern, ascript.] * "Jejunia nostra vini copia natant ;
r Conform. 1. ii. fruct. 3. p. 211. piscium varietate carnium superant de-
¦ "0 quantum distamus ab his, qui, licias."

Sect. III.] Christian Moderation. 393
It is well known" how some over-devout amongst the seven kinds
of Pharisees guarded their fringes with thorns ; and knocked their
heads against the walls till the blood issued forth. And even
amongst the Manichees, in St. Austin's" time, there were some
more strict than their fellows, which called themselves mattarios,
who gloried to lie upon hard mats, not envying Faustus his feather
bed. It was a great competitiony betwixt Iwo pretended saints,
St. Francis and St. Clare, whether should have the rougher coat :
although all was one to that incurious saint of Assise ; for had his
coat been better, it had gone to the next beggar. Wherein I
cannot but wonder at the difference of humours in two that go
for their saints : it is spoken2 to the praise of Anthony the hermit,
that he never saw himself naked ; whereas, to the wonder of the
other's mortification, it is saida, that other forenamed saint of
theirs stript himself stark naked before the bishop of Assise, and
in that form, like a Mahometan dervise, ran through the streets.
Yet these are but small self-penances in comparison of some
others. Our story0 tells us, that the monk Acepsemas lay three
score years close hid in a blind room ; where he never spake with
any man ; never was seen qf any man. But Didymus0 went yet
beyond him, who, in his whole hfe of ninety years, never con
versed with any.
Yet these might pass their time with ease in comparison of an
Hilariond, who put himself into a little-ease ; so penal a lodging,
that he could neither stand upright for the height, nor stretch
out his legs for the length : or, a Simon Stylites, that chained him
self to an hollow pillar of the like incapacity.
Yet all this task was tolerable in respect of the cruel piety of
those men that stuck not to tew and lancinate their bodies ; like
that Superianus, the scholar of Lacharis, of whom Suidas speaks,
that would scourge himself into learning. Such were the famous
whip-stocks in the time of Gregory the Tenth ; which, out of
Italy passing into Germany, astonished the beholders with their
bloody shoulders, affecting glory and merit in that self-martyr
dom6. And though the dangerous opinions which attended this
u 3. Genus <nrp ex Thalm. Drus. not Antonius. — Socr. lib. iv. c. 23.]
Trihseres. a Conform, p. 211.
1 August, contr. Faustum. 1. v. [c. v.] b Theod. 1. iv. u. 28.
J Conform, p. 105. " Vidi tunicam c Socrat. 1. iv. c. 23.
B. Francis, et S. Clarse : grossior et ru- d Sozom. 1. iii. c. [14. ed. Vales.]
dior erat tunica S. Clarse." ° Binius, anno 1275. [Cone. Gen. torn.
z [This is related of Amon the monk, iii. pars ii. p. [494. ed. Col. Agrip. 1606.]

394 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
practice in the first authors were condemned as heretical, yet the
usage itself is continued in Spain and some other parts ; and, not
without a secret kind of horror, applauded by the multitude as an
undoubted argument of serious and deep mortification. And what
marvel, when that which is acted in the streets but once by a
few muffled penitents is pretended to be done in cells and
closets, as in a set course of discipline, by the most of their strict
votaries ?
But all these and whatever acts of penance must yield to that
of Goderannus, a soldier of Christ, as our Capgravef styles him ;
who, when the host, given by his St. Hugh to a leprous man -in
the height of that loathsomeness, was rendered again, with the
interest of some other odious ejections, did that, which, in favour
of the queasy stomach of my reader, I must conceal : only this,
that their saint which beheld it could say, that St. Laurence's
gridiron was far more tolerable. To shut up all, St. Martin could
needs die in sackcloth and ashesS.
Such hard usages have some zealous self-enemies put upon
their bodies ; no doubt in a misgrounded conceit of greater holi
ness, and higher acceptance at the hands of God ; from whom
they shall once hear that old question in the like case to the
Jews, Who required this of you ? as if God took pleasure in the
misery of his best creature; and had so ordered it, that grace
could not consist with prosperity and contentment.
We have seen then both those extremities wherewith men are
miscarried in matter of the palate, and some outward usages of
the body. Section IV. — Ofthe extremes in the cases of lust.
As for the delight of the marriage bed, which some salacious
spirits have thought fit, in an eminence or propriety, to call plea
sure, how far it hath bewitched men it is too apparent.
How many are thus drunk with their own wine ! spending
their bodies to satisfy those sensual desires wherewith they are
impotently transported; like that bird", of whom Suidas speaks,
which dies in the very act of his feathering. Certainly, there is
no such tyrant in the world as lust : which where it prevails
f Jo. Capgrave de S.Henrico. Herem. decet" [inquit] " Christianum, nisi in
e " Cinere et cilicio recubans ; et cinere mori." — Sulp. Sever. [Epist. iii.
cum a discipulis rogaretur ut saltern vilia ad Bassulam.]
sibi sineret stramenta supponi : Non h Cigelus. [KiyvXos.]

Sect. IV.] Christian Moderation. 395
enslaveth the soul, and sendeth his best subjects, not to the mill
with Samson, or to the distaff with Hercules, but to the chambers
of death (Prov. vii. 27.), to the dungeon of hell.
The witty Athenians could enact a law for bigamy ; and So
crates himself, who was by the oracle named for the wisest man
of his time and the greatest master of his passions, could be con
tent to practise that wherein he was well punished. And how
their famous philosophers were affected, I had rather St. Jerome'
should speak than I. And the Turks at this day, whom their
Alcoran restrains from wine, yet are by their law let loose to
this full scope of sensuality.
What speak I of these, when the very patriarchs and princes
of God's peculiar people were palpably exorbitant in this kind :
the man after God's own heart in respect of the sincerity of his
soul, divided himself betwixt six partners of his bed ; 2 Sam.
xii. 8; the mistaking of which permission hath drawn the modern
Jewsk into a false opinion of no less than eighteen wives allowed
still to their princes : but for his son Solomon, in other things
the wisest under heaven, from whom the eastern potentates have
borrowed their seraglios, what stint was there of his bedfellows 1
he could not so much as know all their faces.
Neither was it for nothing that the all-wise God saw it fit in
his royal law to give us two commandments against lust, and but
one only against murder or theft : doubtless, as Ger son well ob
serves, because he saw us naturally more prone to these wanton
desires than to those violent.
Contrarily, there have not wanted some, who, out of a strong
affectation of continency, and an over-valuation of the merit of
virginity, have poured too much water upon the honest flames
of their lawful desires, and have offered a willing violence to
nature. Not to speak of Origen, and some others that have voluntarily
evirated themselves, a practice justly cried down by some councils ;
such were Amnon the hermit and Pelagius the monk, in the
Ecclesiastical History, who, the first day of their marriage, took
up a resolution ofthe continuance of a virginal chastity, (a fashion
which some improbable legends have cast upon St. John, the
1 " In tantum Grseci et Bomani hoc "Et pueris alienis adhceserunt." — Is.ii.6.
quondam vitio laborarunt, ut et claris- k Munster in praecept. Mosaica. Schi-
simi philosophorum Graecise haberent chard, de Jur. Reg. Hebr.
publice concubinos/'&c. — Hieron. in ilia,

396 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
beloved disciple, in his misimputed marriage in Cana,) and re
tired to an agreed solitariness.
Many formal votaries have made profession of no less conti
nency, but with what success I take no pleasure to relate. Let
an indifferent man speak, Erasmus1, in an Epistle to his Grun-
nius ; who tells us of store of monasteries, such as in comparison
whereof the stews were more sober, more modest. Out of their
own ingenuous casuists, out of the woful complaints of their Al-
varus Pelagius, St. Brigit, Gerson, others, it were easy to tell
shameful tales, if we made disgrace our aim : it shall be enough
to desire any reader to inform himself of the reason alleged in
the council of Mentzm, under Pope Stephen, of so strict an in
hibition to their clergy, not to admit of so much as their sister to
come within their doors, and to take notice of that old by -word,
In Hispania preti, fyc.n
I take no joy to discover the miserable nakedness of Christians.
Inordinate minds, where is no restraint of grace, are apt to run
thus wild, whether amongst them or us * but there so much more,
as there is less allowance of lawful remedies ; a point which some
of the most ingenuous spirits of the Roman correspondence have
seriously wished to have recommended to wiser consideration and
redress. Section V. — The liberty that God hath given us in the
use of his creatures.
I meant to dwell only so long in the extremes as to make my
passage to the mean, which is the sole drift of our endeavour.
There is therefore betwixt excess and defect, whereof we have
spoken, a lawful and allowed latitude of just pleasure, which the
bounty of our good God hath allowed to his dearest creature, man ;
whereof it is meet for us to take knowledge.
To begin with the palate. He who is the author of appetite
hath provided and allowed means to satisfy it, not with a sparing
hand, as for mere necessity, but sometimes also liberally, for
delight. I have oft wondered to see how providently the great House
keeper of the world hath taken seasonable order for the main-
1 " Non hue adducam, quanta sit m Concil. Mogunt. sub Stephano VI.
turba monasteriorum, in quibus adeo u. x. Bin. [Ed. Col. Agr. 1606. torn. iii.
nulla viget disciplina pietatis, ut prse pars ii. p. 1027.]
his lupanaria sint et magis sobria et " Rivet. Eesp. ad Sylv. Petra Sanct.
magis pudica." Illust. Ep. Grunnio. [1. Jesuita vapulans c. iii. ad finem.]
xxiv. ep. 5.]

Sect. V.] Christian Moderation. 397
tenance of all his creatures, so as their mouths are not sooner
ready than their meat. Whether in man or beast, conception
is immediately seconded with nourishment ; neither is the issue
brought forth into the light of the world before there be bottles
of milk ready prepared for the sustenance. The birds, except
some domestic, hatch not their young in the dead of winter, but
when the growing spring hath yielded a meet means of their food.
In the very silkworm I have observed that the small and scarce
sensible seed which it casts, comes not to life and disclosure until
the mulberry, which is the slowest of all trees, yields her leaf for
its necessary preservation.
And the same God, who hath given the creature life, appetite,
meat, hath by a secret instinct directed them to seek it ; so as
the whelp, even before it can see, hunts for the teat ; and those
shell-fishes, to which nature hath denied means of sight or smell
ing, yet can follow and purchase their food.
And if all thy creatures, 0 God, wait upon thee, that thou
mayest give^tliem their meat in due season ; if thou openest thy
hand, and they are filled with good; how much more magnifi
cent art thou to that creature for whom thou madest all the rest !
Thou, who at the first broughtest him forth into a world furnished
beforehand with all varieties, hast been graciously pleased to store
him still with all things that might serve for the use of meat, medi
cine, delicacy.
Hadst thou only intended our mere preservation, a little had
been enough. Nature is neither wanton nor insatiable. We
know what those Brachmanni are reported" to have said to the
great conqueror of the world, in shaming his conquest by their
own. We know what the Roman commander said to his soldiers,
in a just indignation at their niceness : " Ye have the river Nilus
running by you, and do you ask for wineP ?" and how he up
braided them with this scornful taxation ; " Blush for shame ;
those that overcome you drink water." We know what the wise
and just Socrates returned to Archelaus, tempting his fidelity with
large proffers : " Go," said he, " tell your master that four gills
of flour are sold at Athens for an halfpenny, and that our wells
yield us water for nothing."
But now, since our liberal Creator hath thought good to furnish
our tables with forty kinds at the least of beasts and fowls, with
° Ambros. r Pescen. Niger.

398 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
two hundred, as they are computed, of fishes, besides the rich and
dainty pro venues of our gardens and orchards, and the sweet juice
of our canes, and the cells of our hives ; what should this argue,
but that he who made nothing in vain, and all for man, intended to
provide, not for our necessity only, but for our just delight ?
The father of the faithful, though he promised only to comfort
the hearts of his great and divine guests with a morsel of bread,
Gen. xviii. 5, yet he entertains them with a tender and fat calf,
with butter and milk, the delicates of those homelier times.
But this in all likelihood was but small cheer in comparison of
that which he prepared for the celebrity of his son Isaac's wean
ing, which is by Moses styled a great feast, Gen. xxi. 8. After
this, when his son Isaac feasted a king 1, do we not think there
were all the choice services the times would afford ? Samson,
though by God's destination a Nazarite, yet kept his wedding
feast seven days long, Judges xiv. 17 : Samuel, a prophet of God,
feasted thirty persons, and reserved a choice bit for his best guest,
1 vSam. ix. 22. What speak I of this, when every new moon
was wont to be celebrated with a solemn feast by God's people ;
and David shelters himself under this excuse for his absence from
the table of Saul '! I might well have silenced all the rest, if I had
only mentioned great Solomon's both practice and counsel. There
is nothing better, saith he, for a man, than that he should eat
and drink ; and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his
labour : this also I saw, that it was from the hand qf God ; for
who can eat, or who can hasten hereunto more than I? Eccl. ii.
24, 23. Certainly this challenge is unanswerable. Neither hath
the Spirit of God thought it unfit to give us a bill of fare of that
mighty king, and to record in those holy archives the particulars
of his daily expenses of meal, flour, oxen, sheep, besides harts,
roebucks, fallow-deer, and fatted fowls ; which the monarchs of
all ages may admire, none can emulate.
What speak I yet of this, when he that was greater than
Solomon sanctified feasting by his own blessed example ? He,
the Lord of glory, that took up with a manger for his cradle,
and after, the carpenter's cottage, owned no house but heaven, is
invited to a bridal feast, the jolliest commonly of all meetings ;
carries his train with him, helps on the cheer by turning water
into the richest wine. Had be been so sour as some sullen hypo-
' Abimelech : Gen. xxvi. 30.

Sect. V.] Christian Moderation. 399
chondriacs, who place holiness in a dull austerity, would fancy
him, it had been an easy answer, They want wine — " All the
better ; water is more fit ; this safe liquor will send the guests
home coolly tempered." But now, as one that would be known
to be a favourer of honest and moderate delight, he bids, Fill the
water-pots with that which he would make better, wine. Neither
was it any rare or strange matter for our Saviour to honour and
bless other feasts with his presence. Matthew the publican, when
he was called from his tollbooth to a discipleship, and was now
to be matriculated into the family of Christ, entertained his new
Master with a sumptuous banquet ; himself, now an evangelist,
speaks modestly of his own cheer, as if it had been but common
fare, Matt. ix. i o : but St. Luke tells us, it was a great feast,
Luke v. 29. What should I speak of the tables of Zaccheus, of
Simon the Pharisee, of Martha and Mary 1 So did our Saviour,
in a sweet sociableness of carriage, apply himself to a free con
versation with men in the cheerful use of God's good creatures,
that his envious maligners took occasion hereupon to slander him
with the unjust and blasphemous imputation of olvoTtoTns, a wine-
bibber, a friend to publicans and sinners.
He that made the creatures can best tell how to use them ; his
practice is more than all laws : those men therefore are not more
injurious to themselves than to the divine beneficence, who, in an
opinion of greater sanctity, abridge themselves of a moderate
participation of those comfortable helps God hath allowed them,
and sit sullenly at a liberal board with their hat pulled over their
eyes, not so much as removing their napkin from their trencher,
unjustly scrupling their conscience with — Touch not, taste not,
handle not.
There are times of abstinence, and not of a private fast only, but
much more of a bannitum jejunium, as that council r styled it,
solemn and sacred. There are, out of civil grounds, wholesome
laws for either forbearance or change of diet ; far be it from us
to detract our strict obedience to these. Surely, unless we will
take up that lawless resolution of Disrumpamus vincula, Let us
break their bonds, and cast their cords from us, we must be con
tent to be tied by the teeth, and, in these cases, to determine
with friar Giles8, that the best diet is to eat nothing ; but where
we are left open from all just restraint of divine and human laws,
r Concil. Salegunstad. Anno 1022. 8 " Si vis bene eomedere jejuna."
[Bin. torn. ii. pars 2. p. 1085.] Confor. 8.

400 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
to pine ourselves in an affectation of holiness, and so partially to
carve unto ourselves, as if all things were not clean unto the clean,
it is but a wayward and thankless austerity.
The like may be said for other usages of the body ; in matter
of attire, sleep, lodging, recreation. Socrates4 the historian tells
of Sisinnius, the witty bishop of the over-straitlaced sect of the
Novatians, a man of singular temperance and moderation, yet
somewhat more spruce, liberal, and costly in his apparel, and
more nice in his frequent bathings, than ordinary, that, being
asked where he found it written that a priest for his daily array
should be suited in white, answered, " Yea, tell me first where
you find it written that a bishop should be clothed in black : you
cannot show me this; I can show you the other ; for Solomon says,
Let thy garments be white."
How fitly the text is applied, I labour not: sure I am, that no
wise man need to be more nice than a Novatian ; and that the
kingly preacher, in that liberal concession of his, gives large scope
to our lawful liberty in the use of God's blessings. He allows
within the compass of our callings rich suits to the back, sweet
oils for the head, comfortable drinks for the stomach : neither
ought we to be scant where God meant to be bouutiful ; and if
he have made us the lords of the world, why are we wilful beg
gars ? Wherefore hath he given the warm fleece to the sheep, the
rich hides to the beaver and ermine, the curious case to the silk
worm, the soft and fair feathers to the fowls of the air ; but, after
their own use, for ours ? Wherefore hath he clothed the trees
with cotton or the fields with flax ; wherefore hath he enriched
the earth with variety of sweet and delicate flowers, with precious
metals, and with more precious stones ; the sea with beautiful and
costly pearls ; why hath he treasured up such orient and pleasing
colours in grains and fishes, if not for the use and behoof of man ?
what other creature knows wherefore they serve ? or how can
our blessed Creator be any other than a greater loser by our either
ignorance or willing neglect?
As for the comfort of conjugal society, what other did our good
God intend in the making of that meet helper? He that made
those creatures could have made many more ; and having set this
stint to his creation, He, that made the wflman of the man, could
as well have made man of man ; and could, in the infiniteness of
* Socrat. 1. vi. c. 22.

Sect. VI.] Christian Moderation. 401
his wisdom have appointed thousands of ways for the multipli
cation of mankind ; but now, having thought meet to pitch upon
the traducing of man by this living rib of his own, he hath holily
ordained that they two shall be one flesh ; not only as two bodies
animated with one soul, but rather, as one body animated with
two united spirits ; so as it is equally lawful for them to enjoy
each other in a mutual and holy communion, and to enjoy them
selves in their single and personal contentments.
How safely then may we take wise Solomon's word for this in
nocent and sweet conversation : Let thy fountain be blessed : and
rejoice with the wife qf thy youth. Let her be as the loving hind
and pleasant roe ; let her breasts satisfy thee at all times ; and
be thou ravished always with her love, Prov. v. 18,19. And
when, towards the latter end of his days, he had found more
bitter than death the woman whose heart is snares and nets,
and her hands as bands, Eccl. vii. 26 : yet even then he renews
this charge in the height of his mortification ; Live joyfully with
tlie wife whom thou lovest all the days qf the life of thy vanity,
which he hath given thee under the sun, all the days of thy
vanity : for that is thy portion in this life, and in thy labour
which thou takest under the sun, Eccl. ix. 9.
Section VI. — 'Together with our liberty, the just bounds of our
moderation, in the liberal use of God's creatures : and therein
our limitation in respect to God.
So then, that God who hath given us meat, drink, apparel,
wife, children, recreations, and whatever other conveniences of
this life, intended no other but that we should make our use and
have the fruition of these comforts ; and if he meant not that we
should take some pleasure in the fruition of them, wherefore are
they given us as blessings ? or what place is there for our thank
fulness ?
If I may take no pleasure in one food above another, what use
is there of my taste ? what difference do I make betwixt a coarse
crust and the finest of the wheat ? why am I more bound to God
for giving me wine than water ; many dishes, than one ; better,
than worse ? or how can I be more sensible of my obligation ? If
I may not take contentment in the wife of my youth, wherefore is
she mine? What is left to me to counterpoise those household
distractions which do unavoidably attend the state of matrimony ?
If I may not joy in my children, what difference is there to me
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. D d

402 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
betwixt my own and other men's, save that my care is more with
out hope of requital ? And if I may not take pleasure in my re
creation, how is it such ? what difference is there betwixt it and
work ? Yea, if I may not take pleasure in the works of my calling,
what difference is there betwixt a slave and me ?
But the same God who hath allowed us to take pleasure in all
these, hath also thought good to set bounds and stints to our
pleasure which we may not exceed. He hath indulged to us a lawful
freedom, not a wild licentiousness. If we pass our limits, we sin.
Now, because in our natural proneness to excess, there is no
thing more difficult than to keep within due compass, and to be
at once delighted and holy ; it highly concerns us to take notice
of those just boundaries within which our freest pleasure must be
ranged. First, then, we cannot offend in our delectations, if we be sure
to take God with us. More plainly, we shall safely partake of
our pleasures if we receive them as from God ; if we enjoy them
in God ; if we refer them to God ; from God, as the author and
giver of them ; in God, as the allower and sanctifier of them ; to
God, as to the end and scope of them. The least deviation from
any of these makes our delights vicious.
We receive them as from God when we know them to be allowed
of him, and granted to us by him. Herein therefore lawful plea
sures differ from sinful ; we have his warrant for the one, for the
other his inhibition. The act may be alike in both ; but differs
both in the subject and ground of it. God's institution justifies
that act in a lawful conjugal society, which he abhors and con
demns in a stranger : marriage is made in heaven, adultery is
brewed in hell. The teeth kept the same pace, under the Law,
in eating the clean flesh and the unclean; and still do, in the
morsels of sufficiency and surfeit ; the first draught of the wine,
which is for refreshing, goes down the same way with the lavish
and supernumerary carouses of drunkenness. That holy God
whose will is the rule of goodness cannot give any approbation
of evil.
If then I can boldly present my pleasure in the face of God,
and say, " Lord, this is the delight thou hast allowed me ; the
liberty thou givest, I take ; here is thy word, and my deed ;" my
heart cannot but sit down iri a comfortable assurance.
We enjoy them in God, while we can enjoy God in them ; not
suffering ourselves so to be possessed of them, as that we should

Sect. VII.] Christian Moderation. 403
let go the sweet hold of the divine presence and complacency ; the
very thought whereof must necessarily exclude all disorder and
excess. It is the brand which St. Jude sets upon the sensual false
teachers of his time, feeding without fear, Jude j 2 ; and the
prophet Isaiah to the same purpose ; The harp, and the viol, the
tabret, and pipe, and wine, are in their feasts : but they re
gard not the work of the Lord, neither consider the operation
of his hands, Isaiah v. 12. If then we be so taken up with any
earthly pleasures, that they do either banish God from our hearts,
or steal our hearts from God ; our tables are made snares to us,
and our wives, instead of ribs, become thorns in our sides.
For me, let me rather want delights than be transported by
them from better joys ; they shall not pass with me for pleasures,
but for torments, that shall rob me of the fruition of my God.
We refer them to God, when we partake of them with an in
tuition of the glory of him from whom we receive them, and in
whom we enjoy them ; not making any pleasure its own end
wherein we shall rest, but the way to a better : Whether ye eat
or drink, or whatsoever ye do, saith the apostle, do all to the
glory of God. We do well to look up to heaven, and to say grace
at our meals ; but I have read of an holy man that was wont to
give thanks for every morsel that he put into his mouth, and I could
envy his holy and free thoughts ; but sooner could I take up the
resolution of that votary, who professed that he did in every
creature of God find both edification and matter of devotion ; and
when one showed him a lewd and debauched ruffian, and asked
him what good he could pick out of such a prospect, " Yes," said
he, " I can so far enjoy his wickedness, as to be thankful to God
for giving me that grace which he wants."
Shortly, let me never have any pleasure upon which I cannot
pray to God for a blessing, and for which I cannot return my
thanksgiving. Section VII. — The limitation of our liberty in respect of the
pleasures themselves : first for the kind, then for the quantity
and quality of them.
Our pleasures cannot be amiss while they have these respects
to God. There are also considerable limitations which they have
within themselves.
The first whereof must be, that they be in their very kind
lawful ; for as there is no dish whereof we may warrantably sur-
d d 2

404 Christian Moderation. [Boqk I.
feit, so there are some whereof we may not taste. For our first
parents, to but set their teeth in the forbidden fruit, yea to touch
it, was not free from evil, Gen. iii. 3. Any morsel of an unclean
meat under the Law was no less sinful than the whole dish. The
wholesomest of all foods, if taken in excess, may destroy nature,
insomuch as we find* one that died of strawberries, the most
harmless fruit that the earth beareth, but the least measure of
poison is too much.
Whereto we may also add, that the same thing may be poison
to one, which to another is either meat or medicine, even as it is
in bodily diets ; a Turk eats in one day so much opium with
pleasure, as would be the bane of many western Christians ; and
Erasmus professes that fish was death to him, which to others is
both nourishing and delicate. For a Socrates to ride upon a
stick, or to learn to fiddle or dance in his old age, was a sight as
uncouth as it was in his boys becoming and commendable. It is
said of Thales Milesius, one of the great sages of Greece, that he
was pressed to death in a throng at their gymnic sports; any
wise man would presently ask, what that wise man did there. To
personate an history on an academical theatre may be a mutual
dehght to the actor and beholders ; but for a professed divine to
do it, can be no other than unmeet, and that which is justly for
bidden in some synods. The wild carnivals abroad, however they
may be tolerated in the young laity by their indulgent confessors,
yet for persons that profess to be clerks, or religious votaries, what
pretences soever may be set upon it by favourable casuists, cannot
but be extremely faulty.
The kind yielded to be lawful and meet, both in itself and to
the person using it, there must be due consideration had of the
quality, quantity, manner ; circumstances that are able to make
even good things evil.
For the first, both religion and right reason require, that we
should not be wanton and over-delicate in our contentments ; that
our pleasures should be like ourselves, masculine and temperate.
It was a check, that fell seasonably from Vespasian, and re
corded to his great honour by Suetonius, that when a young man
came to him curiously perfumed, "I had rather," said he, "thou
hadst smelt of garlic:" and that praise is no mean one which
Gerson", the chancellor of Paris, gives to king Lewis the saint,
t Melchior Suerinensis Episc. ex duoibus Brunswic. Krantz. Metrop. 1. x. c. 36.
B Gers. Serm. de B. Ludovico. [Pars iv. 4. D. Argent. 1502.]

Sect. VII.] Christian Moderation. 405
That he regarded not of how dainty composition his excrement
were made, neither meant to be a cook for the worms.
Surely that curiosity of mixture, whereby not the eye and the
palate, but the scent also must be feasted, is more fit for Sybarites
than for Christians. Dissolved pearls are for the draught of
jEsop the tragedian's son, or Antony's great mistress. Let a
Vitellius or Heliogabalus hunt over seas and lands for the dainty
bit of this bird's tongue, that fish's roe, or that beast's sweetbread ;
the oysters of this coast, the scollops of that other ; this root, that
fruit. What do Christians with this vain Apieian-like gluttony?
It was a fit rule for that monster x of the gut, whom even the
Roman luxury censured, That those dishes please best which cost
most. I have both heard and read, that when some of our English
merchants in Germany entertained Martin Luther with some
other of his Dutch friends at their table, when, amongst other
liberal dishes, he saw a pasty at the first cutting up, reeking up
wards, and filling the room with an hot and spicy steam, instead
of thanks, he frowned; and angrily said, "Now woe be to them
that bring these delicacies into our Germany."
It is not easy to set stints to the quality or price of diets : for
that which to one nation or person may pass for mean and coarse,
may to another be costly and delicious. If we may believe rela
tions?, in Angola dog's flesh is held for the daintiest meat ; inso
much as one mastiff hath been exchanged there for twenty slaves,
the price of one hundred and twenty ducats. Our frogs, snails,
mushrooms, would somewhere be accepted for a good service.
And we know what the Tartars are wont to esteem of their
cosmo, while we make a face at the mention of it.
Laertius tells us, that when Plato, in a thrifty discourse with
rich Aristippus, was saying, that an halfpenny was enough to
furnish a temperate man's dinner; " Well then," said he, "and
fifty drachmas are no more than so, to me."
Custom of the place, care of health, regard to our ability, are
fit moderators of every man's palate : but the true Christian is
governed by an higher law ; giving only such way to his appetite
as may well consist with due mortification.
It was the rule which Columbanus, of whom there are many
monuments in these western parts, gave to his followers ; " Let
* Heliogab. iElius Lamprid. [Hist. Eom. Script. Aur. Allob. 1609- tom- "• V- 343-1
y Jo. Pory, Append, to Leo's Hist.of Africk.

406 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
the diet of monks be coarse and late ; so as it may sustain and
not hurt2." We are no Rechabites, no votaries; free from all
yokes of this kind, save the Almighty's, which is no other than an
holy temperance. He hath allowed us the finest of the wheat ; and
wine that makes glad the heart: we are not tied to Prodicus's
sauce, which is the fire ; nor to Bernard's, which is salt and hunger:
we may, with old Isaac, call for savoury meat such as we love,
Gen. xxvii. 4. Happy are we, if we know how to use our blessings,
and have learned so to order our appetite, as that we make it
neither a slave nor a wanton3.
For the quantity, pleasure is honey : Eat not too much honey,
saith Solomon : that is to be tasted on the top of the finger ; not
to be scooped up with the whole hand.
We may be too great niggards to ourselves this way ; denying
those helps to nature whereby it may be more cheerfully enabled
unto good : Jonathan complained justly, that Saul's rash vow, of
not tasting any food that day, had troubled the land : See, I pray
you, how mine eyes are enlightened, because I tasted a little
honey : how much more, if the people had eaten freely to day,
had they prevailed ! 1 Sam. xiv. 29, 30. It was the rule b of a
great pattern of strict devotion, "If abstinence go beyond the
bounds of a virtue, it turns vice:" and our Alensis0 well, "If
our fast must be afflictive, yet with due moderation ; neither is it
required that a man should fast his utmost, but so much as may
well stand with the conservation of nature in her meet vigour."
Neither are we tied to the old man's diet in Suidas, salt, and two
barley-corns'1 ; or to the liberal allowance which Francis of Assise
made to his St. Clare, an ounce and half of bread in a day ; neither
need we be driven, as Socrates counselled poor yEschines, to
borrow of ourselves e.
But on the other side, we may not let loose the reins of our
appetite ; and, as gluttons are wont to do, cram in so much to
breakfast, that we have no stomach to supper : Not in surfeiting
and drunkenness, saith the blessed apostle. It seemed a strange
a Cibus sit vilis monachorum, et ves- Hugo. Instit. Monast. in Reg. D. A ugust.
pertinus ; ut sustineat, et non noceat. v. iii.
Reg. Columib. 0. iii. ° Alens. [Alex. Hales] torn 4. q. 28.
a Patriae est, non exilii, frequentia mem. 6. "Etsi jejunium,"&c.
hasc gaudiorum, &c. Bern. Ep. 176. d "Exav a\a Kal Siio Kpljxva. [Suid. v.
b Qui carnem suam supra modum af- Kpipvov.']
fligit, civem suum occidit : si plus quam c Xlap' kavrov SavelfcaBai. Suid. [Diog.
oportet alimentis reficit, hostem nutrit. Laert. lib. ii. Vit. iEsch.]

Sect. VII.] Christian Moderation. 407
thing to Anacharsis the Scythian, as Laertius observes, to see the
Greeks drink in small cruses at the beginning of their feasts, and
in large bowls at the latter end: an order ill imitated by the
lavish healthists of our time ; as if they intended not satisfaction
and refreshing of nature, but wilful excess. If the bounty of God
allow us to be sometimes merry in our moderate feasts, yet never
mad. He is so far from crowning any man for drinking, as it is
said Alexander the Great did his Promachus, that he hath passed
a woe unto them that are mighty to drink wine ; and men of
strength, to mingle strong drink, Is. v. 22. Well may we say of
our cups, as was wont to be said of the Ionians : They are good
servants, ill freemen, and masters. Too much oil puts out the
lamp : both reason and health are drowned in over-deep cups.
Our body is as a well-set clock, which keeps good time : if it
be too much or indiscreetly tampered with, the larum runs out
before the hour.
The like care of avoiding extremity must be had in all other
delights. The very heathen orator could say, " He is not worthy
of the name of a man that would be a whole day in pleasure."
Sleep and recreations are as necessary as meat, but both must
know their stint f. If a bear or a dormouse grow fat with sleep,
I am sure the mind of man is thus affamished : Slothfulness, saith
Solomon, casteth into a deep sleep, and an idle soul shall suffer
hunger, Prov. xix. 15. It was a dead sleep wherein Adam lost
his rib, Gen. ii. 2r ; Ishbosheth his life, 2 Sam. iv. 5; the harlot
her son, 1 Kings iii. 20 ; the foolish virgins their entrance, Matt.
xxv. 5. How long, then, wilt thou sleep, 0 sluggard? when
wilt thou arise out of thy sleep ? Yet a little sleep, a little
slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep : so shall thy
poverty come as one that travaileth, and thy want as an armed
man. As for sports, when they take up so much time and labour as to
turn trades, they have lost themselves, and perhaps marred their
masters. It was a just exception that Salustius took to Sempro-
nia, not that she danced, but that she danced too well ; and our
story tells us, when rich Clisthenes would choose a fit match for
his only daughter, and amongst other suitors the son of Terpander
the Athenian was most likely to speed, the young man, to ingratiate
himself the more, after dinner danced some Attic jigs with much
f " Quaer. Si ex toto corde ridere non licet ? [ Ei KaB6\ov yeAap ovk Qtariv ;]
;ur." Reg. brev. Basilii. c. xxxi.

408 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
cunning and activity. " Well, well," said Clisthenes ; "Terpander's
son, you have danced away your marriage," If the iron be blunt,
the edge might be whetted, saith Solomon ; but if we shall wear
away all the steel with too much whetting, the tool must needs
be left unprofitable.
Section VIII. — The limitation and moderation of the pleasure
of conjugal society.
But the greatest danger of immoderation is in matter of lust ;
an impetuous passion, and that which commonly bears down reason
before it ; and too often even there where the strongest reso
lutions and most religious vows have made head against it ; inso
much as Al varus Pelagius? sticks not to confess that there was
scarce any of the holy sisters in his time sine devoto carnali ;
and Dominicus a Soto professes he cannot deny that their clergy
abounds with concubinaries and adulterers. What should I men
tion the toleration and yearly rent of public stewsn? These known
courtezans in Spain and Italy pay to their great landlords for
their lust ; whereas amongst the Abassines' wages are given them
out of the common purse.
Yea, even those who are allowed lawful remedies shall find it
task enough so to order their desires as they may not offend in
their application. To deny the lawfulness of matrimonial benevo
lence were to cast mire in the face of our Creator k ; yet there
may be such deordination in the acts thereof, as may draw sin
into the marriage-bed ; insomuch as Gerson1 can tell us there is
less difficulty in forbearing these desires, than in curbing and
moderating them once admitted. For pleasure ever, as both St.
Ambrose and Jerome have observed, draws on a strong appetite
of itself; and, as Chrysologus well, is like a dog; beat him off,
he flees away ; make much of him, he follows us the more.
The Jewsm note, that in four places of the Law they are ad
monished to increase and multiply; and therefore hold, that after
e "Vix aliqua sanctimonialium sine monio scortationem, sed idem esse.'7
devoto carnali." Alv. Pel. de Planctu. 1. Epiph. Hozres. de Tatianis. [rbv ydpov
ii. 73- [Ed. Venet. T560. p. 197.] elvai ova iic tov Bzov dAAa iropveias tlvai
h " Curent in unaquaque civitate Epiph. adv. Haar. 1. 1. torn, iii.]
locum meretricibus assignandum, ab ' " Facilius est ssepe, &c. sicut febris
hominum frequentia, et a majoribus potu, et ignis flatu, et pruritus attactu
Ecclesiis, remotum." In Condi. Medi- tandem magis succenduntur." Gers.Reg.
olcm. 1. habito a Carolo Boromceo. morales de Luxuria. [Pars II. xxiv. Z.]
1 Jo. Pory : ut supra. «• Munster. in Preecept. Mos,
<<- Tatianus : " Nihil differre a matri-

Sect. VIII.] Christian Moderation. 409
twenty years of age, whoso finds the jezern in himself, is bound,
under pain of sin, to marry ; somewhat of kin to the divinity of
that old physician at Basil, of whom Erasmus" speaks, who taught
in his public lecture that this increase and multiply was our
Saviour's last legacy to the world, which we had thought had
been, Pacem meam do vobis, My peace I give to you : and
that it were a pity that any fruitful soil should lie fallow : posi
tions wildly licentious, and such as leave no place for a gracious
eunuchism for the kingdom of heaven.
Virginal chastity is a grace worthy of our fervent prayers,
worthy of our best endeavours. I hear the great apostle of the
Gentiles say, He that gives his virgin in marriage doeth well;
but he that gives her not in marriage doeth better, i Cor. vii. 38.
And why should not every one, where there is a difference of
meliority, strive towards the best ? All may strive, but all cannot
attain : He that is able to receive it, let him receive it, saith our
Saviour. But he that cannot receive the blessing of single chastity may
receive the blessing of chaste marriage : an institution, which, if
it had not been pure and innocent, had never been made in para
dise by the all-holy Maker of paradise both in earth and heaven.
In the managing and fruition whereof, we may not follow brutish
appetite and lawless sensuality, but must be overruled with right
reason, Christian modesty, and due respects to the ends of that
blessed ordinance.
Our strictest casuists will grant, that, for the conservation of
mankind, even a votary may, yea must marry ; and we have in
our times known those, who, for the continuation of a lineal suc
cession of some great families, have been fetched from their cells
to a bridechamber. As for the remedy of incontinency, our
apostle hath passed a plain avvepxeo-Oe, Come together again;
1 Cor. vii. 5.
As for the pleasure of conjugal society, I do not find a more
clear decision than that of the voluminous Jesuit SalmeronP.
n TSi (Leigh's Crit. Sac.) from the P Salmeron, torn. v. tract. 9. de tempo-
',.,..£,. „ ., , ribusLuctus. "Eideli, cui Christus omnia
metaphorical signmcation of the verb ; ,...„.-.,, ,
the noun signifies the figment or imagi- mmd™*- lUf **?**>*» et absorptio
nation ofthe mind, and the affection of ?on °8t Peocatu^ : nam- u* «t aP°sto-
the heart suitable to it. luS' 0TM?L ™™?"™™d™ f ** «*"*»
• Erasm. Epist. Danieli Stibwo. "Me- fPomt' G\em' l'm' fTOm' m fine- Ad
dicus [quidam] senex Basileae, in publica h*°' voluPtas "J* ^^'o 1™ *>**-
professionedocuit,"&c.[L.xx.Ep.ioI.] rallter «"»«l™ta* °P™ generations,

410 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
" To a faithful man," saith he, " unto whom Christ hath made
all things clean, that turpitude and absorption (of reason) which
commonly attends the act of matrimonial knowledge is not a sin :
for, as the apostle teacheth, All things are clean unto the clean ;
as Clemens, in the third book of his Stromata, worthily expounds
it. Moreover, that pleasure or delectation which doth naturally
follow the act of generation, which is by God naturally inbred in
every living creature, and is not desired merely for its own sake,
is no sin at all ; even as the delight which accompanieth eating
and drinking and sleeping is not judged unlawful. So therefore
it is not only to be granted that marriage is no sin, but he that
is at liberty and free from any vow, and hath not a will to con
tain himself, shall not acquit himself of a grievous sin if he seek
not a wife : for of such like St. Paul saith, If they do not contain,
let them marry ; for it is better to marry than to burn : that is,
as St. Ambrose interprets it, to be overcome of lust." Thus far
Salmeron. And to the same purpose the learned chancellor of Paris de
termines, that, however those meetings, which have no other in
tention but mere pleasure, cannot be free from some venial offence ;
yet, that he who comes to the marriage-bed 1, not without a certain
renitency and regret of mind that he cannot live without the use
of matrimony, offends not.
Shortly then, howsoever it be difficult, if not altogether impos
sible, to prescribe fixed limits to all ages and complexions; yet
this we may undoubtedly resolve, that we must keep within the
bounds of just sobriety, of the health and continued vigour of
nature, of our aptitude to God's service, of our alacrity in our
vocations ; not making appetite our measure, but reason ; hating
that Messalinelike disposition, which may be wearied, not satis
fied ; affecting to quench, not to solicit lust ; using our pleasure as
the traveller doth water, not as the drunkard wine, whereby he
is inflamed and inthirsted the more.
quae omni animanti ingenita est a Deo, uxorem non quasrefet, potius quam uri,
nee propter se expetitur, peccatum ul- i. vinci a libidine, &o.
turn non est : quemadmodum et delec- i Non sine renitentia, et dolore quo-
tatio, quae consequitur edentem, et bi- dam animi, quod sine usu matrimonii
bentem, aut somnum capientem, non vivere non possit, &c. [cum pigentia
censetur illicita. Non solum ergo nup- animi quod sine conjugii usu esse non
tue non sunt peccatum; sed ille, qui possit, &c. — Gers. de Sept. Virt. pars ii.
esset solutus et liber a voto, nee vellet xxvii. P.]
se continere, crimen non effugeret, si

Sect. IX] Christian Moderation. 411
Section IX. — Ofthe limitation of our pleasures in the
manner of using them.
Thus much for the just quantity of our lawful delights : the
manner of our using them remains.
Whether those of the board, or of the bed, or of the field, one
universal rule serves for them all : we may not pursue them either
over-eagerly or indiscreetly. If we may use them, we may not
set our hearts upon them ; and if we give ourselves leave to enjoy
them, yet we may not let ourselves loose to their fruition.
Carelessness is here our best posture : They that rejoice, as if
they rejoiced not ; they that have wives, as if they had none ;
they that buy, as if they possessed not ; they that use the world,
as if they used it not, saith the blessed apostle, I Cor. vii. 29,
30, 31. Far be it from a Christian heart so to be affected with
any earthly delight, as if his felicity dwelt in it ; his utter dejec
tion and misery in the want of it : that, as Phaltiel did his wife,
hie should follow it weeping. It was a good charge that the holy
manr gave to his votary, that he should not totus comedere ; and
the spouse, in the divine marriage-song, can say, I slept, but my
heart waketh, Cant. v. 2. Thus, while we shall take our plea
sure, our pleasure shall not take us.
Discretion must be the second guide of our pleasure : as in
other circumstances, so especially in the choice of meet places
and seasonss. It was a shameless word of that brutish cynic,
that he would plantare hominem in foro : the Jews* made it a
matter of their thirty-nine lashes, for a man to lie with his own
wife in the open field ; and if it were notoriously filthy for Absa
lom to come near to his father's concubines in the darkest closet,
surely, to set up a tent upon the roof of the house, and in the
sight of the sun and all Israel to act that wickedness, was no less
than flagitious villany.
The very love-feasts of the primitive Christians were therefore
cried down by the apostle, because they were misplaced : Have
ye not houses to eat and drink in? 1 Cor. xi. 22 ; and so were
the vigils in the succeeding ages. If markets, if sports, be never
so warrantable, yet in a church not without a foul profanation.
So likewise there are times which do justly stave off even
those carnal delights which else would pass with allowance; the
priests under the law, while they did eat the holy bread, which
was in their several courses twice in the year, must abstain from
' Bernard. turum fieri. Cic. Tuscul. [lib. v. c. 35.]
" Nullo modo placuit ; bis in die sa- ' Schichard. de Jure Reg. Hebr.

412 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
the society of their wives. The like charge doth the apostle
impose upon his Corinthians: Defraud not one another, except
it be with consent for a time, that ye may give yourselves to
fasting and prayer, i Cor. vii. 5. It was a commendable reso
lution of good Uriah : The ark of God, and Israel, and Judah,
abide in tents ; and my lord Joab, and the servants of my lord,
are encamped in the open fields ; shall I then go into mine house,
to eat and to drink, and to lie with my wife ? as thou livest,
and as thy soul liveth, I will not do this thing. 2 Sam. xi. 11.
When a solemn fast is indicted, for a man to entertain his friends
with a feast is no better than an high impiety and disobedience :
neither can it be worthy of less than a just mulct and censure in
those who cast their liberalest invitations upon those days, which,
by the wholesome laws both of church and commonwealth, are
designed to abstinence. And it is a strange charge that Alfonsusu
de Vargas lays upon the Jesuits, that, upon a slight pretence, made
no bones of a fat capon on Good Friday : There is a time for
all things, saith wise Solomon : there is a time to embrace, and
a time to refrain from embracing ; a time to mourn, and a time
to dance. Eccl. iii. 4, 5.
If then our pleasure shall be rightly differenced for the kind,
and, where that is allowable, ordered aright for the measure,
quality, manner of enjoying it ; we shall be safely cheerful, and
our life holily comfortable.
Section X. — Motives to moderation in the use of all our
pleasures.
But because it is no easy task to keep our hearts in so meet a
temper, and to curb in our appetite from a lawless immoderation,
it will be necessary for us seriously to consider,
First, the shortness of them. They are like to that time on
whose wings they are carried, fugitive and transient ; gone, while
they come ; and, as the apostle speaks, in their very use perishing.
Lysimachus, when in his extremity of drought he had yielded
himself and his crown to the Scythians for a draught of water,
"Good God," saith he, "how great -a felicity have I foregone for
how short a pleasure \" Who ever enjoyed full delight a day ?
or if he could, what is he the better for it to morrow ? He may
be worse, but who ever is the better for his yesterday's feast ?
Sweet meats and fat morsels glut the soonest ; and that which
was pleasant in the palate is noisome in the maw and gut. As
u Alphons. Varg. Stratagem. Jes. c. xi. [attributed to Gaspar Scioppius.l

Sect. X.] Christian Moderation. 413
for those bodily delights wherein luxurious men place their chief
felicity, alas! what poor abortions they are, dead in the very con
ception, not lasting out their mention ! what vanishing shadows
what a short nothing ! And how great a madness is it to place
our contentment upon mere transitoriness ; to fall in love with
that face which cannot stay to be saluted !
Secondly, The unprofitableness of them*. It is easy to name
thousands that have miscarried by the use of pleasures, who
with Ulysses's companions have been turned into swinish beasts
by the cups of this Circe ; but show me the man that ever was
the better for them. We have known want, like to the hard soil
of Ithaca, breed good wits ; but what can fulness yield, save fat
guts, ill humours, dull brains ?
The observation is as true as old, that the flesh is nourished
with soft, but the mind with hard meats. The falconer keeps his
hawk sharp that would fly well ; and the horses are breathed and
dieted that would win the bell and the wager.
Samson was not so strong, nor David so holy, nor Solomon so
wise, as not to be foiled with these assaults. It was one strain in
Moses's song, Jeshurun waxed fat, and kicked. Thou didst
drink of the pure blood of the grape: thou art waxed fat,
thou art grown thick, thou art covered with fatness ; then he
forsook God that made him, and lightly esteemed the rock qf
his salvation, Deut. xxxii. 15. How many brave hopes have we
known dashed with youthly excess ! how many high and gallant
spirits effeminated ! Hannibal could complain that he brought men
into Campania, but carried women out again.
Who ever knew any man, that, by the superfluity of earthly
contentments, grew more wise, more learned, more virtuous, more
devout v? Whereas, it is no rare thing to find those whom a
strait and hard hand hath improved in all these.
It is better to go to the house of mourning, saith Solomon,
than to go to the house of feasting. Sorrow is better than
laughter ; for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is
made better, Eccl. vii. 2, 3. If Job's children do but meet at a
kind banquet, their father is fain to expiate their feast with sacri-

x " Onerat quippe talis cibus volupta- 123. — Vdarnp wax*"* pit) t4kci Xvkt^v
tis, irritatque famem, non satiat. " — Qers. (ppiva.
Serm. ad Eccles. Cautelam. [Pars II. J "Quanto inferius delectamur, tanto
XLII. B.] — "Paupertas nemini [nulli] asupernoamoredisjungimur." Bern.de
malum, nisi repugnanti. Senec. Ep. Inter. Domo, c. xiv. [Ed. Ben. c. xxv.]

414 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
fice ; for seldom is ever jollity without excess : whereas, in a sad
austerity there is no fear of overlashing.
Thirdly, as there is no profit in the immoderation of these mo
mentary pleasures, so no little pain in the loss. This honey-bag
hath ever a sting attending it ; so as we are commonly plagued,
as Bernard well, in that wherein we were mis-delighted. Fishes
and fowls are well pleased with their baits ; but when the hook or
gin seizeth them, they are too late sensible of their misery. I
have known potions that have been very pleasant in the mouth,
which have wrought churlishly in the guts : such are these plea
sures : What fruit have you, saith the apostle, in those things
whereof ye are now ashamed? The world deals with too many,
as our Bromiard2 observes, like a bad neighbour, that makes a
man drunk purposely to defeat him of his purse or patrimony :
when the liquor is evaporated, the man awakes, and finds himself
a beggar. Could we foresee the issue of these sinful delights, we durst not
but fall off. Had any man beforehand said, Death is in the pot,
which of the children of the prophets durst have been so hardy as
to put in his spoon ? It was a good answer of a well meaning
novice, who, when he was told, because that he was tender and
delicate he could never endure the hardship of a strict profession,
answered, " Yes, I will therefore endure it the rather ; for, being
so tender and delicate, much less shall I be able to endure the
pains of hell." Could we, then, foreconsider the everlasting
torments which attend the momentary pleasures of sin, we would
say to the best and most plausible of them, as sir Thomas is re
ported a to have said to his wife, " Gentle Eve, I will none of your
apple :" and would be loath, as that philosopher said in the like
case, to buy repentance, yea torment, at so dear a rate.
Section XL — Ofthe moderation of our desires, in matter of
wealth and honour, fyc.
Next to the moderation of our pleasures is that of our desires,
if not rather before it : for whereas there are three acts of our
sensitive appetite in respect of good, loving, desiring, delight ; love
makes way to our desires, and delight follows it : but because the
desires we now speak of are rather covetous than lovesome, of
outward abilities rather than bodily pleasures, we cannot repent
of this order of their tractation.
1 Brom. Sum. Prsed. V. Gula. [Art. II.] a Camden's Remains.

Sect. XL] Christian Moderation. 41 5
And surely, of the two, our desires are much more insatiable
and boundless than our delights. A glutton's belly is much
sooner filled than his eyeb : for that only can quiet the appetite
of an intellectual nature which is all and infinitely good ; all other
things do rather whet than satiate our longings. All this sensible
world, as Gerson c well, is but as one little morsel to the stomach
of the soul ; and if a thousand worlds could be let down, they
cannot fill itd : for the mind is by receiving enlarged to receive
more ; and still cries, like the daughters of the horseleech, Give,
give. Every soul, as St. Austin e wittily, is either Christ's spouse or
the devil's harlot : I add, if Christ's spouse, she takes up with him,
and accounts all things in the world but dung, yea but loss in
comparison of him, Phil. iii. 8 : if the devil's harlot, she runs wild,
after every gaudy pleasure and profit ; like the barren womb, in
Solomon, which never saith, It is enough, Prov. xxx. 16. So
then, the true Christian soul, as it can say with David, Whom
have I in heaven but thee ? and there is nothing in earth that I
desire besides thee, Psalm lxxiii. 25 ; so it can say, with St. Paul,
I have learned, both to want and to abound, to be full and to
be hungry, and, in whatsoever estate, to be therewith content,
Phil. iv. 11, 12.
Our desires, therefore, are both the surest measures of our
present estate and the truest prognostics of our future. Upon
those words of Solomon, As the tree falls, so it shall lie,
Bernard wittily, " How the tree will fall, thou shalt soon know,
by the store and weight of the boughs. Our boughs are our
desires : on which side soever they grow and sway most, so shall
the soul fall." It was a word too good for him that sold his
birthright for a mess of pottage, / have enough, my brother.
Jacob himself could have said no more. This moderation argues
a greater good than itself : for, as nothing comes amiss to that
man who holds nothing enough f; since the love qf money is the
root of all evil, 1 Tim. vi. 10 ; so he that can stint his desires is
cannon-proof against temptations.
b Jo. de Neapoli, q. xxviii. sufficit. Bern, de Interiore Domo, c. Ixiii.
c Totus iste mundus sensibilis, ad [Ed. Bened. c. xxxiv.]
animfc ventrem, quid est, nisi bolus exi- e Aug. Gen. ad literam.
guus, &.C.1 Ger. Serm. ad Eccles. Cautel. ' Cui nihil satis est, nihil turpe est.
[Pars II. XI/II. -B.] [S> luavbv oirSev aWa Tovrtp alaxpbv ovSev.]
d Cor vix ad unius milvi refectionem Timothens in Aristophontem prodigum.
sufficere posset, et totus mundus ei non jElian. [ Var. Hist. 1. xiv. c. iii.]

416 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
Whence it is that the best and wisest men have still held
themselves shortests. Even he that had more than enough could
say, Give me not overmuch. Who knows not the bare feet and
patched cloaks of the famous philosophers amongst the heathen ?
Plutarchh wonders at Cato, that, being now old, and having
passed both a consulship and triumph, he never wore any garment
that exceeded the worth of an hundred pence. It was the wish
of learned Erasmus, after the refused offers of great preferments,
that he might so order his expenses, that he might make all
even at his death : so as when he died he might be out of every
man's debt ; and might have only so much money left as might
serve to bring him honestly to his grave. And it was little
otherwise, it seems, with the painful and eminent Master Calvin,
who, after all his power and prevalence in his place, was found
at his death to be worth some forty pounds sterling ; a sum which
many a master gives his groom for a few years' service.
Yea, in the very chair of Rome, where a man would least look
to meet with moderation, we find Clement IV', when he would
place out his two daughters, gave to the one thirty pounds, in a
nunnery ; to the other, three hundred, in her marriage. And
Alexander k the Vth, who was chosen pope in the council of Pisa,
had wont to say, he was a rich bishop, a poor cardinal, and a
beggarly pope. The extreme lowliness of Celestine1 the Vth,
who from an anchorite's cell was fetched into the chair, and
gave the name to that order, was too much noted to hold long :
he that would only ride upon an ass, while his successors mount
on shoulders, soon walks on foot to his desert, and thence to his
prison. This man was of the diet of a brother of his, pope Adrian™,
who caused it to be written on his grave, that " nothing fell out
to him in all his life more unhappily than that he was advanced
to rule."
These are, I confess, mere heteroclites of the papacy : the com
mon rule is otherwise. To let pass the report", which the arch
bishop of Lyons made in the council of Basil, of those many mil-
B Si vis cum lsetitia animi vivere, noli v k Bin. anno 1410. [Ibid. p. 1555.
multa habere. — Bern, ubi supra, u. xiv. ' Bin. in Vita Celestini Elect, anno
[Ed. Ben. u. xxv.] 1294. [Ibid. p. 1506.]
h Plut. in Vit. Laz. Bayf. de Re m Adrian IV. Nihil sibi in vita infeli-
Vest. [iroKvTe\eaT^pav eitaTOv Spaxp&v.] cius accidisse, quam quod imperarit.
1 Bin. in Vita Clem. IV. anno 1268. n Henr. a Token in Sylv. loe. com.
[Ed. Col. Agrip. 1606. torn. iii. pars ii. Hospin. de Orig. Tempi. [Ed. Tig. 1587.
p. 1491] p. 25.]

Sect. XL] Christian Moderation. 417
lions, which, in the time of pope Martin, came to the court of
Rome out of France alone ; and the yearly sums registered in
our acts0, which out of this island flew thither, above the king's
revenues : we know, in our time, what millions of gold Sixtus V,
who changed a neatherd's cloak for a Franciscan's cowl, and
therefore by virtue of his order might touch no silver, raked
together in five years' space. The story P is famous, of the dis
course betwixt pope Innocent the I Vth and Thomas Aquinas. When
that great clerk came to Rome, and looked somewhat amazedly
upon the mass of plate and treasure which he there saw, " Lo,"
said the pope, " you see, Thomas, we cannot say, as St. Peter did of
old, Silver and gold have I none." " No," said Aquinas ; " neither
can you command, as he did, the lame man to arise and walk."
There was not more difference in the wealth of the time than in
the virtue.
It was an heroical word of St. Paul, As having all things, yet
possessing nothing q : and a resolution no less, that, rather than
he would be put down by the brag of the false teachers among
the Corinthians, he would lay his fingers to the stitching of skins
for tent-making. What speak I of these meannesses, when he
tells us of holy men that wandered about in sheepskins and
goatskins, in deserts and mountains, and caves of the earth ?
Heb. xi. 37, 38 ; yea, what do I fall into the mention of any of
these, when I hear the Lord of life, the God of glory, who had
the command of earth and heaven, say, The foxes have holes,
and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not
where to lay his head ?
It was a base and unworthy imputation that hath been cast
upon him by some ignorant favourers of wilful poverty, that he
lived upon pure alms. If our blessed Saviour and his train had
not a common stock, wherefore was Judas the purse-bearer ? and
why, in that office, did he repine at the costly ointment bestowed
upon his Master, as that which might have been sold for three
hundred pence to the use of the poor, if himself had not wont to
be a receiver of the like sums in a pretence of distribution ?
0 Reditus Romani, computati ab contr. Sylv. Petra Sanct. [Jesuita vapu-
Henrico III. ad tantum ascenderunt, lans c. viii. Op. Riv. ed. Roterod. 1660.].
quantum reditus ipsius, viz. Ix millia 1 Sicut Paulus, ditissimus pauper, di-
marcarum puri reditus exceptis aliis va- cebat, Sicut nihil habentes, et omnia
riis emolumentis. Florilegus, anno 1245. possidentes. Ambros. de Yitiorum Vir-
[Lond. 1570, p. 191.] tutumque Confiictu.
i> Ciracella in ejus vit. cit. a Rivetio
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. E e

418 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
Wherein had he been a thief, if he had not both wont and meant
to lurch out of the common treasury ? Certainly, he that said, It
is better to give than to receive, would not fail of the better and
take up with the worse ; and he who sent his caterers to Sichem to
buy meat, would not go upon trust with Samaritans, Johniv. 8.
Now, he that shall ask how this stock shall arise, may
easily think, that he who commanded the fish to bring him tri
bute-money had a thousand ways to make his own provision.
Amongst which, this is clear and eminent : his chosen vessel
could say, Even so the Lord hath ordained, that they which
preach the gospel should live of the gospel, i Cor. ix. 14. Lo,
this was Christ's own ordination ; was it not therefore his prac
tice ? And if any man would rather cast it upon our Saviour's
care for the provision of succeeding times, he may soon learn
that when the blessed Son of God sent his disciples, as legates
from hisvown side, to preach the gospel, without scrip or money,
the word was, Dignus est, The labourer is worthy qf his wages :
he saith not, " The beggar is worthy of his alms."
This maintenance was not of beneficence, but duty. So as
Salmeronr observes well, neither Christ nor his apostles were in
any want ; they earned what they had, and they had what was
sufficient. And if that gracious Messiah begged water of the
Samaritan woman at Jacob's well, it was because he thirsted after
the salvation of her and her neighbours, and would take this oc
casion to bestow upon them the waters of life, which they had
not otherwise known or desired. I hear where he asked for water,
a common element, and that for which the giver was no whit the
poorer ; I would fain hear where he asked for bread, where for
meat. I find where he gave bread, more than once, to thousands,
and fish to boot ; but wherever did he ask a morsel or fin ?
Shortly then, he who could have commanded all the pomp and
royalty of the whole world, would appear in the form of a servant,
that he might sanctify a mean and moderate condition to us. It
is true, there can be no certain proportion of our either having or
desiring, since the conditions of men are in a vast difference ; for
that coat which is too big for a dwarf will not so much as come
upon a giant's sleeve ; and it is but just and lawful for every man
to affect so much as may be sufficient, not only for the necessity of
his person, but for the decency of his estate, the neglect whereof
r Salmer. torn. v. tract. 5. [objecerunt ejusmodi mendicos privare pulcherrima
virtute liberalitatis, &c]

Sect. XL] Christian Moderation. 419
may be sordid and deservedly taxable. It is said of Gregory the
Great, that he sharply reproved Paschasius, bishop of Naples, for
that he used to walk down to the seaside attended only with one
or two of his clergy, without that meet port which his place re
quired. Surely he that goeth below himself disparageth his vo
cation, and while he would seem humble is no other than careless.
But, all things considered, he that can cut evenest between want
and excess is in the safest, easiest, happiest estates ; a truth which
if it were duly entertained would quit men's hearts of a world of
vexation which now they do willingly draw upon themselves ; for
he that resolves to be rich and great, as he must needs fall into
many snares of sin, so into manifold distractions of cares.
It was a true word of wise Bion in Laertius, who, when he was
asked what man lived most unquietly, answered, " He that in a
great estate affects to be prosperous." In all experience, he that
sets too high a pitch to his desires lives upon the rack, neither
can be loosed till he remit of his great thoughts, and resolve to
clip his wings and train, and to take up with the present.
Very seasonable and witty was that answer which Cyneas in
the story gave to ambitious Pyrrhus, when that great conqueror
began speech of his designs ; " Well," said Cyneas, " when thou
hast vanquished the Romans, what wilt thou then do ?" " I will
then," said Pyrrhus, "sail over to Sicily." "And what wilt thou
do," said Cyneas, "when that is won?" "Then will we," said
Pyrrhus, "subdue Afric." "Well, and when that is effected,
what wilt thou," said Cyneas, " then do ?" " Why then," said
Pyrrhus, " we will sit down and spend the rest of our time merrily
and contentedly." "And what hinders thee," said Cyneas, "that
without all this labour and peril thou canst not now do so be
forehand?" Certainly, nothing lies cross the way of our contentation but
our own thoughts, and those the allwise God leaves there on pur
pose for the just torture of great hearts. It was a truly apostolical
and divine counsel that the chosen vessel gives to his Hebrews :
Let your conversation be without covetousness, and be content
with such things as ye have, Heb. xiii. 5 ; which unto his Timothy
he limits to food and raiment, 1 Tim. vi. 8, and backs it irre-
fragably with a reason fetched from our first and last estate : For
we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we shall
8 Senec. de Tranquillit. [c. ix. optimus pecuniae modus est qui nee in pauper-
tatem cadit nee procul a paupertate discedit.] E e 2

420 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
carry nothing out, 1 Tim. vi. 7. Lo, we begin and end with nothing,
and no less than all can sate us while we are.
0 the infinite avarice and ambition of men ! The sea hath both
bottom and bounds, the heart of man hath neither*. "There are
those," as our Bromiard observes, "who in a fair pretence of
mortification like soaring kites fly up from the earth, and cry,
' Fie, fie,' in their flight, as if they scorned these lower vanities ;
and yet, when they have done, stoop upon the first carrion that
comes in their eye :" false Pharisees, that under the colour of
long prayers devour widows' houses; Pharisaical votaries, that
under colour of wilful poverty sweep away whole countries into
their corbanu. Amongst the very Mahometans, under the name
of sanctity, the Scirifii in Afric, in our very age, the sons of
Scirifius Hascenus, desire no more patrimony from their father
but a drum and an ensign; and thus furnished, religion being
their sole pretext, they run away with the large kingdoms of Fez
and Morocco x. And what other spirit possessed friar Campanella,
a poor Dominican in our time, who durst think of changing his
cowl for a crown, aiming at no less, in his secret treaty with the
Turks, than the now divided empire of Italy ?
How no less rife than insatiable are these desires of men ! One
plots for a lordship, another for a coronet ; one hath swallowed a
crozier ; another, a sceptre ; a third, a monarchy ; and a fourth,
all these.
Of all the ambitions that have come to my notice, I do most
wonder at that of Maximilian y the First, who being emperor, af
fected also to be pope ; and for that purpose, in his letter written
to the baron of Lichtenstein, offered the sum of three hundred
thousand ducats, besides the pawn of four rich and preciously
stuffed chests, together with the sumptuous pall of his princely
investiture ; " whereof," said he, " after we are seised of the pa
pacy we shall have no further use." Though why not? saith
Waremundus as well as pope Boniface the Eighth, who, girded
with his sword and crowned with an imperial diadem, came abroad
1 Under the Antiochi, the Levites nihil habentes omnia possident.-iTraMife:.
took upon them to be kings, and turned Metrop. 1. vii. c. 47. [c. 42.]
Sadducees, and died violently.— Brought. * Ca3sar a Branchedoro Monita Polit.
ex Ben. Gers. — Tertullus Patricius Ro- [Orat. Prsemon Caes. Branchedauria.]
manus locuples, patrimonium dedit Be- y [Maximil. I. Imp. Epist.] An. 15 11.
nedicto, &c. regna, potius quam coenobia, Sept. 16. ut Waremundus de Erenbergh
vir sanctus posteris reliquit. — Volater. in verisimil. de regni subsid. — Idem
» Mendicantes autem fratres, etsi prse- Branchcdorus. Hid.
dia non sunt instituti habere ; tamen

Sect. XL] Christian Moderation. 421
magnificently amongst the people, and could openly profess, " I
am both Csesar and Pope2." Vain men ! whither do our restless
desires carry us, unless grace and wiser thoughts pinion their
wings3 !
Which if we do seriously affect, there is a double remedy of this
immoderation. The first is, the due consideration of our own condition, both in
the shortness and fickleness of our life, and the length and weight
of our reckoning. Alas ! if all the world were mine, how long
could I enjoy it? Thou fool, this night shall they take away thy
soul, as was said to the rich projector in the parable ; and then,
whose shall all these things be? Were I the great king of
Babylon, when I see the hand, writing my destiny upon the wall,
what should I care for the massy bowls of my cupboard or the
golden roof of my palace ? What fool was ever fond of the orient
colours of a bubble ? Whoever was at the cost to gild a mud wall,
or to embroider that tent which he must remove to morrow ? Such
is my condition here ; I must alter, it cannot. It is the best ce
remony that I could note in all the pack of those pontifical rites,
that an herald burns tow before the new pope in all the height
of his pomp, and cries, " Holy father, thus passes the glory of
the world." Thus, even thus indeed, the glory passes. The ac
count passes not so soon; it is a long reckoning that remains to
be made for great receipts ; for we are not the owners ; we are
the bailiffs or stewards of our whole estates. In the day of our
great audit there is not one penny but must be calculated ; and
what can the greatness of the sum passed through our hands then
avail us, other than to add difficulty to the computation and danger
to the accountant ? When death shall come roughly to us, in the
style that Benedict did to Totila's servant, "Lay down that thou
bearest, for it is not thine ownb ;" and the great Master of the
universal family of the world shall call us to a redde rationem for
all that we have received ; woe is me, what pleasure shall it be to
me that I had much0 ? What is the poor horse the better for the
carriage of a rich sumpter all day, when at night he shall lie down
with a galled back? I hear him that wished to live Crcesus
wishing to die a beggarly cynic that was not worth his shroud.
z Urspergens. Cuspin. in vita Alberti. b Depone quod portas, nam non est
vide Orationera prssmonitoriam Cses. tuum.
Branchedori. — [Monit. Pol. p. 33.] " Melius est minus egere, quam plus
a Magnitudo non habet certum mo- habere. — Una ex Reg. Aug.
dum.— Sen. Epist 43.

422 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
The cheer goes down well till it comes to the shot; when that goes
too deep, we quarrel at our excess. 0, our madness to dote upon
our future repentance !
The second remedy is, the due consideration of the object of our
desires. Alas ! what poor stuff is this wherewith we are transported!
What is the most precious metal of either colour but thick clay, as
the Maker himself calls it ? Hab. ii. 6. What is the largest ter
ritory, but an insensible spot of contemptible earth ? what are the
greatest commands, but a glorious servitude ? what the highest
offices, but golden fetters? what the highest titles, but air and
sound ? And if the fond minds of worldlings can set other glosses
on these bewitching contentments ; yet, as when a man that hath
eaten saffron breathes upon a painted face he presently descries
and shames the false complexion ; so when the truly rational and
judicious shall come to spend his thoughts upon the best and all of
these garish and glittering allurements, he shall speedily detect
their vanity and bewray their dissembled unworthiness.
Section XII. — The moderation of our passions, and therein first
of our sorrow.
The moderation of our passions challengeth the next room. In
the pursuit whereof, since their variety is great, it were easy to
pass our bounds ; but we shall moderate our discourse, and select
some of the most impetuous. As for love and joy, they have so
much affinity with pleasure and delight, whereof we have already
treated, that we shall spare the labour of their further mention.
Sorrow shall take the first place, a passion that hath been guilty
of much blood.
We have read and heard of some few that have died of joy ;
as Chilon of Sparta, when he embraced his son returning with
honour ; and Clidemus the Athenian, when he was crowned by
the players : these Tertullian" instances in. So Pope Leo the
Tenth, if we believe Jovius, is said to die for the joy of taking
Milan : so Senas, the general of the Turkish galleys, died for the
joy of the return of that son whom he had given for lost. It was
with these as with them whom we have seen choked with those
cordial waters which they have received for the remedy of their
qualms. But our experience tells us of a thousand for one that have
d Tertull. de Anima, [1. iii.] c. Iii.

Sect. XII.] Christian Moderation. 423
been killed with grief; not perhaps in a sudden violence, which
kind of death Csesar esteemed more easy ; but in a lingering and
languishing form of murder ; for, a broken spirit drieth the bones,
saith Solomon, Prov. xvii. 22 ; and, by the sorrow qf the heart
the spirit is broken, Prov. xv. 13. This is our child's part, which
was beset us in paradise, before we were : by the mother's side, In
sorrow shalt thou bring forth; by the father's, In sorrow shalt
thou eat of it all the days of thy life: sorrow in birth, sorrow in
life, and in death sorrow. The shadow doth not more inseparably
follow the body than this doth our existence ; so as he that meant
to say, " Thrice miserable," mistook not much when he said,
"Thrice mane." If we look upon those who have had the greatest
share in God's love, we shall find them to have drunk deepest
of this cup. The great mirror of patience can say, My bowels
boiled, and rested not : the days of affliction prevented me. I
went mourning without the sun : I am a brother to dragons,
and a companion to owls, Job xxx. 27, 28, 29. And the sweet
singer of Israel warbles out sad strains of complaint in this kind :
The sorroivs of death compassed me about, and the pains of hell
gat hold on me, Ps. xviii. 4 ; cxvi. 3 : and again, My soul melts
for very heaviness, Ps. cxix. 28. Isaiah cries out of his loins, Is.
xxi. 3; Jeremy of his boivels, Jer. iv. 19; and good Hezekiah
chatters like a crane or swallow, and mourns like a dove, Is.
xxxviii. 14. What speak I of these, when I hear the Lord of life
and glory say, My soul is exceeding heavy, even to the death ?
Mark xiv. 34.
Now this sorrow is ever out of the sense of some evil ; evil,
whether of sin or of punishment ; of sin, whether of others' or our
own ; punishment, as bodily sickness, death of friends, worldly
losses : all these are just grounds of sorrow : Rivers of ivaters
run doivn mine eyes, because they keep not thy law, saith holy
David, Ps. cxix. 136. And do we not think he sorrowed more
for his own sins ? There is no rest in my bones, saith he, because
of my sin. And, A 11 the night long I make my bed to swim ; I
water my couch with my tears, Ps. vi. 6.
Punishment doth not more necessarily follow upon sin than
sorrow follows punishment. Dayid's eye is consumed because qf
his grief, Ps. vi. 7 ; Hezekiah turns him to the wall and weeps ;
and while St. Paul chargeth not to mourn immoderately for the
e TptadvBpatros.

424 Christian Moderation. [Book I:
dead, he supposeth just tears due. Garments were allowed to be
torn by God's people at the death of friends ; and at the parent's
death, after thirty days' wearing, it was their guise to lay down
those rent garments, never to be sown up again. We pity and
grieve at the childishness of those innocent babes that can play
at wink and hide about their father's hearse ; and for afflictions,
whether of body or estate, how are they such, if we feel them
not ? and how do we feel them, if we sorrow not ? The sense of
pain argues life, as St. Ambrose well.
It is ill taken by the Almighty from his people, that he had
stricken them, but they grieved not, Jer. v. 3. This is what lies
in us to disappoint God of his purpose, and to put ourselves into
the posture of Solomon's drunkard : They have stricken me, doth
he say, and I was not sick; they have beaten me, and I felt it
not, Prov. xxiii. 3$. We are wont to censure that child for stub
born and graceless that sheds no tears when he is whipped. It
cannot be well with us if we sorrow not : Blessed are they that
mourn. But there are certain just conditions and cautions of our grief,
which we cannot exceed or neglect without offence both to God
and to ourselves.
Whereof the first shall be, that the cause of our sorrow be just,
not fancied, not insufficient. For we have known some that have
brewed their own grief, who, with Simon Stylites, have voluntarily
chained up themselves in their own pillar, when they might have
enjoyed free scope of comfortable liberty.
How many melancholic pieces have with mere imaginations
made their lives miserable, and worn out their days in the bitter
ness of their soul, only out of those conceits which the by-standers
have hooted at, as either impossible or ridiculous ! One thinks
himself loathsomely deformed ; another, disgraced and infamous ;
a third, dying or dead : one thinks himself transmuted into some
beast ; another, possessed by some ill spirit. What form cannot
this humour put on ? I leave these kind of complainants to good
counsel and hellebore.
Others there are who have indeed real crosses, but far below
their sorrow, passionately lamenting even small afflictions ; so we
have seen a child, when he hath taken a heedless and harmless
fall, bewray his grief with loud crying, and, in a foolish anguish,
knocking his head against that ground which he accuseth for his
miscarriage. Thus we find certain Armenians, styled of old by

Sect. XII.] Christian Moderation. 425
the name of Chazinzarii f, who kept a yearly fast, called Arzibur,
in the sad memory of the dog of Sergius their martyr of that
name devoured by a wolf; which attendant of his was wont to go
before his master, and by some dumb signs call forth the disciples
to their devotions. It was an affiiction to Rachel that she had no
children; but she had no reason so to be affected with it, as to say,
Give me children, or else I die, Gen. xxx. i. Jonah had cause
to be sorry for the loss of his gourd ; but he had no reason to say,
It is better for me to die than to live. These dispositions are
like unto a new cart, which screaks and cries even while it hath
no burden but his own wheels ; whereas that which is long used
and well liquored goes silently away with an heavy load.
2. Caution of our sorrow. Our second caution therefore must
be, that even our just sorrow be moderate ; for the quantity, not
more than enough. It was a rule of the Lycians, as St. Ambroses
tells us, if a man would mourn above his stint, to put him into a
woman's habit. We may mourn for the dead, but not as men
without hope, i Thess. iv. 13. David mourns at least enough
for his sick child ; but when he perceives it once dead, he riseth
up and washeth, anointeth and refresheth himself, and changeth
his apparel, and comes into the Lord's house to worship, 2 Sam.
xii. 21. Hath good Melaniah lost her husband and her children at
once ? Her tears are just, but she dries them up at last with this
resolution, that she shall now the more freely betake herself to
her devotion. Have we lost our worldly goods ? They had not
been goods if they were not worth our grief for their miscarriage ;
if, as our riches have wings, they be flown up to heaven, being
taken away by the same hand that gave them, it is good reason
our sorrow should give way to our submission and obedience, and
we should say with Job, The Lord hath given and the Lord hath
taken ; blessed be the name of the Lord. As then, on the one
side, we may not so obdure ourselves as to be like the Spartan boys,
which would not so much as change a countenance at their beat
ing ; so, on the other side, we may not be like to those anticks of
stone, which we see carved out under the end of great beams in
vast buildings, which seem to make wry and wrenched faces, as
if they were hard put to it with the weight, when as indeed they
bear little or nothing.
' Prateol. Elench. Haeres.V. Chazinzarii. [1. iii. c. 15.]
b Ambros. de Obitu [excessu] Satyri Fratris. [De fide Res. 1. II. §. 7.]
h Hieron Epist. [xxii. ad Paulam. Paris. 1706. torn. iv. p. 58.]

426 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
Our third caution is, that the measure of this sorrow be pro
portioned, whether it be more or less, according to the cause of
the sorrow ; for it may be so moderate, as to be unproportion-
able. Grief for crosses should be small and impassionate ; grief
for sin can hardly be too much : and as those crosses and those
sins differ in degree, so should the degrees of our sorrow : he
therefore that grieves more for a cross than for his sin, or grieves
equally for a small cross and a greater, offends in the undue pro
portion of his sorrow.
Shortly, then, there is a worldly sorrow and there is a spiritual,
both which must know their just limits : right reason and true
philosophy teaches the one ; the other, divinity.
I have lost my goods : were they mine first ? Perhaps I was
but their keeper or bearer, not their owner. I see the groom
that keeps the horse is not much troubled to flea him : what doth
he lose, but his labour in tending him ? What was the mule, in
Plutarch, after his lying down in the water troubled with the
melting of that burden of salt which he carried ? or what pains is
it to the silly ass, that the treasure which he bore is taken off and
laid up in his master's chests ? I see many sweating in the mint
upon several employments ; they have money enoughaunder their
hands, what are they the richer ? or do they grieve to see it carried
away in full sacks from their fingering ?
My goods are lost : were they not only lent me for a time, till
they should be called for? were they not deli vered into my hands
only to be paid back upon account ? If the owner require them
at his day, what harm is done ? So that my reckoning be even,
how can I complain to be eased of a charge ?
I have lost my goods by shipwreck ; it is well that myself have
escaped. How have I heard and read of philosophers who have
voluntarily cast their gold into the sea ! The winds have done
that for me which their hands did for themselves. Perhaps that
very wealth had been my undoing which at least can do no harm
where it is. Why did I trust such friends as wind and water, if I
did not look to be disappointed ?
I have lost my goods by casualty of fire : even that casualty
was not without a providence. He that sent that fire meant to
try me by it : he had not sent it, but that he knew there was
dross of worldliness and corruption to be thus purged out of me.
It is a worse flame that I have deserved ; and if by this lesser
and momentary fire the mercy of God hath meant to prevent that

Sect. XII.] Christian Moderation. 427
greater and everlasting, I have reason, as the martyrs were wont,
to embrace the flame.
I have lost my goods by robbery, cozenage, oppression : I
would be loath to be in his case that hath thus found them. Let
him mourn that hath thus purchased a curse : for me, I have but
forcibly transferred my charge where it will be wofully audited for.
It is all one to me, whether it be fire or water or fraud or
violence that hath robbed me : there is one and the same hand of
God in all these events. Let me kiss that hand which strikes
me with these varieties of rods, and I shall say, It is good for me
that I was afflicted.
My friend, my wife, my child is dead : say rather, they are
departed : I can scarce allow it to be a death where they decease
well : Profectio est, quam tu putas mortem ; as Tertullian of
old'. It is a mere departure of those partners which must once
meet, and from those friends which must soon follow and overtake
us. Sorrow is so proper for a funeral that the Jews were wont
to hire mourners rather than they would want them. Even our
blessed Saviour bestowed tears upon the exequies of him whom he
meant presently to raise. It is not for us to be too niggardly of
this warm dew ; but those tears which are shed at the decease of
good souls should be like those drops of rain which fall in a sun
shine, mixed with rays of comfort. Let them put no stint to their
sorrow who think there is no rest, no happiness, after death k :
but for us, who know death to be only the end of our life, not of
our being ; yea rather, the change of a better life for worse ; we
have reason to dry up our tears, and, in some sort, to imitate
the pattern of those nations1 which were wont to mourn at the
birth of their children, and rejoice and feast at their death : a
practice, which, in part, was taken up by the Jews themselves,
who, with their mourners, mixed also musicians in their funeral
banquets, Matt. ix. 23, and countenanced by great and wise
Solomon ; The day of death is better than one's birthday,
Eccl. vii. 1.
Shortly, then, I have parted with a good child, but to a better
Father, to a more glorious patrimony : whether now is the child's
gain or the father's loss greater ? And what can it be but self-
1 Non mihi perit, sed praeit, &e. Bern. Nobis vero, quibus mors non natura; sed
Epist. 270. vitae istius finis, cfcc. Amb. de Obitu [ec-
k Nullas habeant lachrymarum ferias, cessu] Frat. Satyri. [1. i. § 70.]
nullam tristitias requiem consequantur, ' Monumentarii Ceraulse. Apul.
qui nullam putant requiem mortuorum.

428 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
love that makes me more sensible of my own loss than my child's
glory ? It is my weakness therefore if I do not either swallow or
stifle my sorrow™.
I have lost my health, and am seized with sickness and pain :
this, this, next to death, is the king of sorrows : all earthly
crosses vail to it, and confess themselves trifles in comparison.
What ease can I now find in good words more than Callicon
found to his head in that chaff wherewith he stuffed his earthen
pitcher which he made his pillow" ? While the thorn is rankhng
in my foot, what ease can I find in a poultice ? Know, 0 weak
man, there is that in a Christian heart which is a more than suf
ficient cordial against sickness, pains, death, and that can triumph
over the worst extremities : This is the victory xvhich overcomes
a ivorld of miseries, even our faith. Not so only, saith the
Chosen Vessel, but we glory or rejoice in tribulations, Rom. v. 3.
For, lo, our faith is it which puts true constructions upon our
pains. Health itself would not be welcome to us if we did not
know it good ; and if we could be persuaded that sickness were
good or better for us, why should not that be equally welcome ?
It was a good speech of that hermit, who, when he heard a man
praying vehemently for the removal of his disease, said, Fill, rem
tibi necessariam abjicere audes : " Alas ! son, you go about to
be rid of a necessary commodity." The Christian heart knows
it is in the hands of Him who could as easily avert evil as send it,
and whose love is no less than his power ; and therefore resolves
he could not suffer if not for the better. The parent is indulgent
to his child : were his love well improved if he would not suffer
his son to be let blood in a pleurisy, while the physician knows
he dies if he bleed not ? An ignorant peasant hath digged up a
lump of precious ore : do we not smile at him, if he be unwilling
the finer should put it into the fire 1 The press is prepared for
the grapes and olives: and, as Austin0 well, neither of them will
yield their comfortable and wholesome juice without an hard strain
ing : would not that fond Manichee make himself ridiculous that
should forbid to gather, much more to wring them? Shortly,
then, am I visited with sickness ? it is not for me, like a man that
is overloaded with too heavy a burden, to make ill faces : but to
stir up my Christian resolution, and to possess my soul in patience ;
m Aut absorbendus [omnis] aut pre- « Suidas.
mendus [est] omnis dolor. Ambros. ut ° Aug. in Ps. Ixxxiii. Torcularia pa-
mpra. rantur uvis et olivis, nee uva vinum, &c.

Sect. XIII.] Christian Moderation. 429
as well knowing, that the vessel that would be fit for God's
cupboard must be hammered with many strokes; the corn for
God's table must pass under the sickle, the flail, the mill; the
spices for God's perfume must be bruised and beaten.
In sum ; worldly crosses cannot affect us with too deep sorrow,
if we have the grace and leisure to turn them round, and view
them on all sides : for if we find their face sour and grisly, their
hack is comely and beautiful. No chastening for the present
seemeth to be joyous, but grievous ; nevertheless afterward it
yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are
exercised thereby. Wherefore lift up the hands which hang
down, and the feeble knees. Heb. xii. 1 1, 12.
Section XIII. — Of spiritual sorrow and the moderation thereof.
Not so rife, but more painful, is the spiritual sorrow ; whether
for the sense of sins or the want of grace. This is that which the
apostle styles kirnnv Kara ©ebv, a godly sorrow, working repent
ance to salvation, not to be repented qf, % Cor. vii. 10: the tears
whereof the Almighty puts up in his bottle, and keeps them for
most precious.
It is seldom when this grief exceeds. Too many are so afraid
of enough, that they are willing to learn of their confessors that
a mere velleity of sorrow is sufficient to true repentance P. But
give me, not an attrition, but a contrition of heart ; give me a
drooping head, red eyes, blubbered cheeks, a macerated body
met with a pensive soul ; give me sackcloth and ashes, fastings,
watchings, prostrations, ejulations, when I have offended my
God : and let me be let loose to my free sorrow : let me be in
bitterness, as Zechariah expresses it, as one that is in bitterness
for his only <>on, Zech. xii. 10.
Not but that it is possible to drink too deep of this bitter cup.
We have known those who have pined themselves away in a con
tinual heaviness ; refusing all possible means of comfort out of a
sense of their sins : whose whole life hath been hke a gloomy
winter's day, all overcast with clouds, without the least glimpse of
a sunshine : we have seen them that have thus lived and died dis
consolate, raving, despairing. Experience makes this so true,
that we may well conclude, that even the best spiritual sorrow
must be moderated, the worst shunned. Every sorrow for sin is
not good. P Fr. a Vict. Relect.

430 Christian Moderation. [Book 1.
There is a sorrow that looks at the punishment through the
sin ; not regarding the offence, but the smart of evil. This would
not care for the frown of God, if he would not strike ; as that
which indeed fears not God, but hell ; as that, which apprehends
only lashes and torments. This is incident even to devils and
damned souls; all which cannot but naturally abhor pain and
torture. What malefactor was ever in the world that was not
troubled to think of his execution ?
There is a sorrow that looks not at the punishment, but the
sin ; regarding not so much the deserved smart as the offence ;
that is more troubled with a father's frown than with the whip
in a stranger's hand, with the desertions of God than with the
fear of an hell.
Under this sorrow, and sometimes perhaps under the mixture
of both, doth God suffer his dearest ones to dwell for a time ;
numbering all their tears and sighs ; recording all their knocks
on their breasts and strokes on their thighs, and shakings of their
heads, and taking pleasure to view their profitable, and, at last,
happy self-conflicts.
It is said of Anthony, the holy hermit, that, having been once
in his desert beaten and buffeted by devils, he cried out to his
Saviour, 0 bone Jesu, ubi eras ? " 0 good Jesus, where wert
thou while I was thus handled?" and received answer, Juxta te,
sed expectavi certamen tuum: "I was by thee, but stayed to see
how thou wouldst behave thyself in the combat." Surely so doth
our good God to all his : he passeth a videndo vidi (Exod. iii. 7.)
upon all their sorrows, and will at last give an happy issue with
the temptation., 1 Cor. x. 13.
In the mean time, it cannot but concern us to temper this
mixed sorrow of ours with a meet moderation.
Hear this then, thou drooping soul : thou art dismayed with
the heinousness of thy sins, and the sense of God's anger for
them ; dost thou know with whom thou hast to do 1 hast thou
heard him proclaim his own style — The Lord, The Lord God,
merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness
and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and
transgression and sin, Exod. xxxiv. 6, 7, and canst thou distrust
that infinite goodness? Lo, if there were no mercy in heaven,
thou couldst not be otherwise affected. Look up, and see that
glorious light that shines about thee : With the Lord there
is mercy, and with him is plenteous redemption, Ps. cxxx. 7.

Sect. XIII.] Christian Moderation. 431
And is there plenteous redemption for all, and none for thee?
Because thou hast wronged God in his justice, wilt thou more
wrong him in his mercy ? and because thou hast wronged him in
both, wilt thou wrong thyself in him ? Know, 0 thou weak man,
in what hands thou art. He that said, Thy mercy, 0 Lord, is
in the heavens, and thy faithfulness reacheth unto the clouds,
Ps. xxxvi. 5, said also, Thy mercy is great above the heavens,
and thy truth reacheth unto the clouds, Ps. cviii. 4. It is a sure
comfort to thee, that he cannot fail in his faithfulness and truth.
Thou art upon earth, and these reach above thee, to the clouds ;
but if thy sins could be so great and high as to overlook the
clouds, yet his mercy is beyond them, for it reacheth unto
heaven ; and if they could, in an hellish presumption, reach so
high as heaven, yet his mercy is great above the heavens,
higher than this they cannot. If now thy heinous sins could sink
thee to the bottom of hell, yet that mercy which is above the
heavens can fetch thee up again.
Thou art a grievous sinner : we know one that said he was the
chief of sinners who is now one of the prime saints in heaven.
Look upon those whom thou must confess worse than thyself. Cast
back thine eyes but upon Manasseh, the lewd son of an holy
parent : see him, rearing up altars to Baal ; worshipping all the
host of heaven ; building altars for his new gods in the very
courts of the house of the Lord ; causing his sons to pass through
the fire ; trading with witches and wicked spirits ; seducing God's
people to more than Amoritish wickedness ; filling the streets of
Jerusalem with innocent blood, 2 Kings xxi. 3-7, 9, 11,16: say if
thy sin can be thus crimson : yet, behold this man a no less famous
example of mercy than wickedness : and what ? Is the hand of
God shortened, that he cannot now save ? or hath the Lord cast
off for ever ? and will he be favourable no more ? Is his mercy
clean gone for ever f Hath God forgotten to be gracious ? hath
he in anger shut up his tender mercies? Ps. lxxvii. 7—10. O
man, say justly, No: This is mine infirmity: thine infirmity,
sure enough ; and take heed, if thou persist to distrust, that it
be not worse. These misprisions of God are dangerous. The
honour of his mercy is justly dear to him : no marvel, if he can
not endure it to be questioned. When the temptation is blown
over, hear what the same tongue says : The Lord is merciful
and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy. He will
not alway chide: neither will he keep his anger for ever. He

432 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
hath not dealt with us after our sins, nor rewarded us after our
iniquities. For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great
is his mercy toward them that fear him, Ps. ciii. 8-1 1. 0 then
lay hold on the large and illimited mercy of thy God, and thou art
safe. What cares the debtor for the length of a bill that is crossed ?
what cares the condemned person for the sentence of death, while
he hath his pardon sealed in his bosom ?
Thou art an heinous sinner : wherefore came thy Saviour ?
wherefore suffered he ? If thy sin remain, wherefore serves his
blood ? If thy debt be still called for, wherefore was thine obliga
tion cancelled ? If thou be still captive to sin and death, where
fore was that dear ransom paid? why did he stretch forth his
blessed hands upon the cross, but to receive thee ? why did he bow
down his head, but to invite thee ? why was his precious side
opened, but that he might take thee into his heart? Thou despisest
him, if thou trustest him not. Judas and thou shall sin more in
despairing than in betraying him. 0 then gather heart to thy
self from the merits, from the mercies of thine all-sufficient Re
deemer, against all thy sinfulness : for who is it that shall be once
thy Judge ? before what tribunal shalt thou appear to receive thy
sentence ? Is it not thy Saviour that sits there ? He that died for
thee, that he might rescue thee from death ; shall he, can he
doom thee to that death from which he came to save thee ? Com
fort thyself then with these words : and if thou wouldest keep
thy soul in an equal temper, as thou hast two eyes, fix the one of
them upon God's justice, to keep thee low and humble, and to quit
thee from presumption ; fix the other upon his transcendent mercy,
to keep thee from the depth of sorrow and desperation.
Section XIV. Ofthe moderation of the passion of fear.
Sorrow is for present and felt evils ; fear is only of evils future :
a passion so afflictive, that even the expectation of a doubtful
mischief that may come is more grievous to us sometimes than
the sense of that mischief when it is come. That which Torque-
made i reports of a Spanish lord in his knowledge, I could second
with examples at home ; of some, who have been thought other
wise valiant, yet, if they had been but locked up in a chamber,
would either break the doors, or offer to leap out of the windows,
yet not knowing of any danger imminent. And if, in an imaginary
i Anth. Torquemade 3. Journee. — Sim. Goulart Hist. Memorab.

Sect. XIV.] Christian Moderation. 433
or possible evil, fear have these effects, what shall we expect from
it in those which are real and certain ?
It is marvellous, and scarce credible, which both histories and
eyes can witness in this kind. James Osorius, a young gentle
man of Spain, born of a noble family, one of the courtiers of
Charles the Fifth, being, upon occasion of a wicked design of lust
to an honourable lady, imprisoned, with an intent of his execution
the next day, was suddenly so changed with the fear of the arrest
of death, that in the morning, when he was brought forth, none
of the beholders knew him ; his hair was turned so white, as if
he had been fourscore years old : upon sight whereof the emperor
pardoned him, as having been enough punished with the fear of
that which he should have suffered. Levinus Lemnius', a late
philosopher, in whom my younger age took much delight, recounts
the. story ; and discourses probably upon the natural reasons of
this alteration. The like report is made by Julius Scaliger, of
a kinsman of Franciscus Gonzaga, in his time imprisoned upon
suspicion of treason; who, with the fear of torture and death,
was in one night's space thus changed8. And Ccelius Rodiginus
tells us of a falconer, who, climbing up to a rocky hill for a hawk's
nest, was, with the breaking of a rope wherewith he was raised,
so affrighted, that instantly his hair turned. What need we more
instances ? Myself have seen one, to whom the same accident was
said to have befallen ; though now the colour were, upon the fall
of that weak fleece, altered. What speak we of this ? Death itself
hath followed sometimes upon this very fear of death : so as some
have died lest they should die. Montague gives us an instance of
a gentleman, at the siege of St. Paul, who fell down stark dead
in the breach, without any touch of stroke save what his own
heart gave him. Yea, how have we known some, that have died
out of the fear of that, whereof they might have died, and yet
have escaped? A passenger rideth by night over the narrow
plank of an high and broken bridge, and in the morning dies to
see the horror of that fall he might have had. There is no evil,
whether true or fancied, but may be the subject of fear. There
may be a Pisander so timorous, that he is afraid to see his own
breath' : and our Florilegus" tells us of a Lewis, king of France,
so afraid of the sea, that he said it was more than an human
r Levin. Lemnius de Miraculis. ' Suidas. [v. 8ei\6Tepos.]
» Citat. a Simone Goulart. Histoire - Elorilegus, an. 1589. [anno 1 179.]
Memorab. BP. HALL, VOL. VI. F f

434 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
matter to cross the water, and durst not pass betwixt Dover
and Whitsands, till he had implored the aid of St. Thomas of
Canterbury. But all these fears have a relation to that utmost of all ter-
ribles; and if other evils, as displeasure, shame, pain, danger,
sickness, be the usual subjects of fear also, yet death is the king
of fear. I am of the mind of Lucretius x, therefore, although to a
better purpose, that if a man would see better days he must free
his heart from that slavish fear of death wherewith it is commonly
molested. In what a miserable servitude are those men, whereof
Erasmus y speaketh to his Grunnius, who so abhor the thought of
death, that they cannot abide the smell of frankincense, because
it is wont to be used at funerals ! they who are ready to swoon
at the sight of a coffin, and if they could otherwise choose, could
be content not to lie in a sheet, because it recalls the thought of
that wherein they shall be once wrapped ! It concerns a wise man
to obdure himself against these weak fears, and to resolve to meet
death boldly in the teeth. Nothing is more remarkable, in all the
passages of our blessed Saviour, than that which St. Luke records
of him, that when he was to go up his last to Jerusalem, where
he must die, \<jrr\pt% e ¦npoaoi-nov, he steadfastly set his face to that
fatal journey, Luke ix. 51. The word implies a resolution of
courage against some evil to be conflicted with. Maldonate would
have the metaphor fetched from the custom of bulls ; who, when
they must fight, are wont to fetch up a kind of sprightly terror
into their countenance z : at least, it imports a firm purpose of an
undaunted spirit to grapple with some fore-expected evil : thus
must we learn to do against our last enemy.
Tell me then, thou weak man, thou fearest death ; will it not
come if thou fear it not ? will it come the later for thy fear ? Is
not thy life thus made miserable before it come ? Is not this the
condition upon which thou receivedst life, to part with it when it
should be called for ? Art thou discontent at thy being ? Dost thou
murmur that thou art a man, because therein thou art mortal?
Doth any thing befall thee different from the best and all of thy
kind ? Look back upon all that have been before thee, where are
1 [Et metus ille foras preeceps] Acheruntis agendus,
Funditus humanam qui vitam turbat ab imo. Lucret. [L. iii. 37, 38.]
y [Atqueadeo]eagens mortem horret,ut nio. [Lib. xxiv.Ep.s.Lond.i642.p.i292.]
ad thuris odorem efferentur, quod in fu- z Vultum corrugantes obfirmant.
neribus solet accendi. Erasm. Ep. Grun. Maid, in loe. [Lugd. 1598. p. 1058.]

Sect. XIV.] Christian Moderation. 435
those innumerable numbers of men which peopled the earth but
in the last century of years ? See whether the great monarchs of
the world speed any otherwise; and couldest thou expect less,
upon the many and sensible warnings of thy mortality? What
language have thy sicknesses and decays of nature spoken to
thee, but this, of a true harbinger's, " Death is coming ?" And
how well shouldest thou be pleased with his approach ! Say, that
thou wert sentenced to live some hundreds of years with thine
infirmities to boot, what a burden wouldest thou be to thyself!
how more discontented wouldest thou be, that thou mightest not
die ! Why art thou not as well displeased that thou must be old ?
and when wouldst thou part, that thou mightest avoid it ?
Thou fearest death ; how many heathens have undergone it
with courage ! Shall I see a bold Roman spurring his horse to
leap down into a dreadful gulf for the benefit of those from whom
he cannot receive thanks ? Shall I see a Cleombrotus casting him
self resolutely from the rock, to enjoy that separate life of the
soul which Plato discoursed of? Shall I hear a Canius, of whom
Seneca speaks, jeering his tyrant and his death together; and
more regarding the victory of his game than the loss of his life ?
Shall I hear of some Indian wives that affect and glory to cast
themselves into the fire with the carcasses of their dead husbands ?
Shall I see Turks filling up ditches with their wilfully-slaughtered
bodies, for the fruition of their brutish paradise ? and shall I be
cowardly, where Pagans are valiant? Yea, how many have I
known that have eagerly sought for death and cannot find it?
how many, who, upon frivolous occasions, by self-despatches have
cast away that life which they could not otherwise be rid of!
What conceit soever I have of the price of life, their undervalua
tion of it hath been such, that they have parted with it for nothing :
they have run to meet that death which I fly from, as formidable
and ugly.
Thou fearest death : look upon the examples of those holy men
who have tendered themselves to the painfullest martyrdom. See
Ignatius, resolving to challenge the lions : see the tender virgins,
daring the worst cruelty of tyrants, and embracing death in his
worst forms : see silly mothers, in an ambition of a crown of life,
running with their children in their arms to overtake death : see
those resolute saints, that might have been loosed from their wheels
and racks, with proffers of life and honour, and scorned the ex-
F f 2

436 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
change ! Do I profess their faith ; do I look for their glory ; and
shall I partake nothing of their courage ?
Thou art afraid of death : what a slaughter dost thou make
every hour of all other creatures ! What meal passeth thee,
wherein some of them do not bleed for thee ? yea, not for need,
not for use, but for sport, for pleasure, dost thou kill them daily,
without pity, without scruple. Alas ! we made them not ; they
are our fellows : he that made us made them too. How much
are we less to God than they are to us ! Do we see so many
thousands of them then die for us, and shall we think much to
return our life to our Creator ?
Thou art afraid of death : thou mistakest him : thou thinkest
him an enemy ; he is a friend : if his visage be sour and hard, he
is no other than the grim porter of Paradise, which shall let thee
into glory. Like unto Peter's good angel, he may smite thee on
the side, but he shall lead thee out of thy prison, through the
iron gates, into the city of God. Were there an absolute perition
in our dissolution, we could not fear it too much: now, that it
doth but part us a while for our advantage, what do we fear but
our gain ? The stalk and ear arises from the grain ; but it must
rot first. 0, our foolishness, if we be unwilling that one grain
should putrefy for the increase of an hundred !
Thou art afraid of death : hast thou well considered from how
many evils it acquits thee ? All the tumults of state, all the bloody
cruelties of war, all the vexations of unquiet neighbours, all secret
discontentments of mind, all the tormenting pains of body, are
hereby eased at once. Thou shalt no more complain of racking
convulsions ; of thy wringing cholics ; of the dreadful quarry that
is within thy reins and bladder ; of thy belking gouts'; of thy
scalding fevers ; of thy galling ulcers ; of the threats of thine
imposthumes, the stoppings of thy strangury, the giddiness of thy
vertigo, or any other of those killing diseases, wherewith thy hfe
was wont to be infested : here is a full supersedeas for them
all : what reason hast thou to be afraid of ease ?
Lastly, thou fearest death : is it not that thy Saviour under
went for thee ? Did thy blessed Redeemer drink of this cup, and
art thou unwilling to pledge him ? His was a bitter one in respect
of thine ; for it was, besides, spiced with the wrath of his Father
due to our sins : yet he drank it up to the very dregs for thee ;
and wilt thou shrink at an ordinary draught from his hand ? And

Sect. XV.] Christian Moderation. 437
why did he yield to death, but to overcome him ? Why was death
suffered to seize upon that Lord of Life, but that, by dying, he
might pull out the sting of death ? The sting of death is sin,
i Cor. xv. 56. So then, death hath lost his sting : now thou
mayest carry it in thy bosom : it may cool thee ; it cannot hurt
thee. Temper then thy fear with these thoughts ; and, that thou
mayest not be too much troubled with the sight of death, acquaint
thyself with him beforehand ; present him to thy thoughts ; en
tertain him in thy holy and resolute discourses. It was good
counsel that Bernard gave to his novice, that he should put him
self, for his meditations, into the place where the dead bodies were
wont to be washed ; and to settle himself upon the bier whereon
they were wont to be carried forth. So feeling and frequent re
membrances could not but make death familiar: and who can
startle at the sight of a familiar acquaintance ? at a stranger, we
do ; especially if he come upon us on a sudden : but if he be a
daily and entire guest, he is at all hours welcome, without our
dismay or trouble.
Section XV. — Ofthe moderation of the passion of anger.
Of all the passions that are incident to a man, there is none so
impetuous, or that produceth so terrible effects, as anger: for
besides that intrinsical mischief which it works upon a man's own
heart, in regard whereof Hugo said well, " Pride robs me of God,
envy of my neighbour, anger of myself;" what bloody tragedies
doth this passion act every day in the world; making the whole
earth nothing, but either an amphitheatre for fights or a shambles
for slaughter ! So much the more need is there of an effectual
moderation of so turbulent an affection.
Our school hath wont to distinguish it. There is a zealous
anger, and there is a vicious a.
The great doctor of the Gentiles, when he says, Be angry, and
sin not, (Eph. iv. 26.) shows there may be a sinless anger. He,
that knew no sin, was not free from this passion, when he whipped
the money-changers twice out of the temple. Surely, if we be not
thus angry, we shall sin. If a man can be so cool, as, without any
inward commotion, to suffer God's honour to be trod in the dust,
he shall find God justly angry with him for his want of anger. I
know not whether it were a praise that was given to Theodosiusb,
a Ira per zelum, ira per vitium. b Socrat. 1. vii- c. 22.

438 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
that never any man saw him angry : so, as it may fall, an immu
nity from anger can be no other than a dull stupidity. Moses
was a meek man as any upon earth ; yet, was he not angry when
he smote the Egyptian ? was he not angry when, upon the sight
of Israel's idolatry, he threw down and brake the tables of God
which he had in his hand ?
There is so little need of quenching this holy fire, that there is
more need of a bellows to blow it up, that it might flame up to
that perfect height of the Psalmist, My zeal hath consumed me,
because mine enemies have forgotten thy tvords, Ps. cxix. 139.
0, the truly heavenly fire that burnt in that sacred bosom ! He
doth not say, "My zeal hath warmed me," but, hath consumed
me ; as if it were his highest perfection to be thus sacrificed and
burnt to ashes. Neither doth he say, " Because my friends have
forgotten thy words ;" but, Because my enemies. Every man can
be troubled with a friend's miscarriage ; but, to be so deeply af
fected for an enemy must needs be transcendently gracious.
It is the vicious anger we must oppose in ourselves. In itself,
that passion is neither good nor evil ; it is either, as it is used ;
like as we are wont to say of the planet Mercury, that the in
fluences are either good or evil, according to his conjunction with
stars of either operation.
Our anger then proves vicious when it offends either in the
cause or the quantity, when the cause is unjust or the quantity
excessive. The cause is unjust when we are angry with a man for a thing
that is good ; for an indifferent thing, for a thing that is trivial.
Cain is angry, because his brother's sacrifice is accepted. Pharaoh
was angry with Israel, because they would be devout, and go serve
God in the wilderness. When the man of God reproves Jeroboam
and his altar, he, in a rage, stretches forth his hand for a revenge ;
Jehoiakira, when he hears some lines of Jeremiah's scroll, cuts it
with a penknife, and casts it into the fire in a fury, Jer. xxxvi. 23 ;
and Ahab professes to hate Micaiah because he never prophesied
good to him, while he should have hated himself, that would not
deserve any news but evil. So that tyrant Cambyses, because
Prexaspes reproved him for his drunkenness, shoots his son to the
heart, and says, " See what a steady hand I have when I am
drunk0 !" This we feel every day. Let a man never so discreetly
reprove a swearer, or drunkard, or unclean person, or any other
<•• Herod. [III. 35.] Seneca. [De Ira, u. xiv.]

Sect. XV.] Christian Moderation. 439
enormous sinner, he straight flies out into a raging anger, and
verifies the old word, Veritas odium. Am I become your enemy,
because I tell you the truth ? saith St. Paul to the Galatians,
Gal. iv. 1 6. It may be possible, which wise Solomon observes,
that he who rebukes a man, afterwards may find more favour
than he that flatter eth : but in the mean time, while the blood is
up, that anger which a man should turn inward upon himself for
his sin, he spends outwardly upon his reprover.
To be angry for good, is devilish ; to be angry for that which
is neither good nor evil, or that which is slight and frivolous, is
idle and absurd ; for whereas anger is a kindling of the blood
about the heart, how unfit is it that it should be set on fire with
every straw ! and wherefore serves our reason, if not to discern
of those objects wherewith it is or is not meet for us to be affected ?
Thus the Jewish doctors tell us, that Pharaoh was angry with his
baker and butler, for no other cause, but for that there was a fly
in his cup, and a little grain of gravel in his bread. It is our
Saviour's word upon the Mount, He that is angry with his brother
without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment, Matt. v. 22.
etKTj. The well governed heart must be like a strong oak, which
is not moved but with a blustering wind, not like an aspen leaf,
that shakes with the least stirring of the air.
Now, even where the cause is just, yet the quantity may offend.
And the quantity shall offend if it be either too long or too ve
hement. Those leaden d angers can never be but sinful which lie heavy,
and go slowly away. What shall be done to thee, thou false
tongue ? saith the Psalmist ; even sharp arrows of the mighty,
with coals of juniper, Ps. cxx. 3, 4. And why of juniper ? St.
Jerome tells us, that of all wood that keeps fire the longest ; in
somuch that the coals raked up in ashes will, as he saith, hold
fire for a whole year : those therefore which were formerly turned
carbones desolatorii, are now translated justly, coals of juniper.
It must be only a lying, false, slanderous tongue, that is a fit
subject for coals of juniper ; even the same, that is no less fit for
the fire of hell. What should these juniper fires do in Christian
hearts against offending brethren ? I find in Suidas certain fishes
that are called ZyKapalxohot, which carry their choler in their
heads; such should Christians be, not letting it settle in their
hearts, but venting it at their tongues. The charge of the Apostle
d Plumbeas gerunt. Plant. [Paenul. act. iii. sc. 6.]

440 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
is, that we should not let the sun go down upon our anger ; much
less may we let it rise again. Nightly anger is like the serene
in other countries, unwholesome, if not deadly ; but, to year and
day our wrath, is more than brutish, and partakes too much of
him that is a manslayer from the beginning.
And as our anger may not be too long, so not too intense and
vehement while it lasts. It is not for a Christian's wrath to be
like the dog-star, which, when it rises, scorches the earth, and
burns up the fruits ; or like a comet, that still portends war and
death ; but rather like unto one of those gliding stars that we see
in a winter's night, which, as it is, blazes not long, and hurts no
thing; so ends in a cool and not unwholesome moisture. Our
anger, therefore, must be tempered with mercy and charity :
otherwise, it is like to a fire under an empty kettle, which burns the
vessel to no purpose ; such wrath is cruel, such anger outrageous,
Prov. xxvii. 4.
Now for the moderation of this dangerous passion, it is not for
me to prescribe Athenodorus's alphabet. That remedy is so poor,
that the very prescription is enough to move anger. Rather let
me commend that of Bernard, consideration; and that, not so
much when we are once provoked, for that is too late, and the
assaults of this passion are too sudden ; but as wise princes are
wont, in the midst of peace, to provide for war ; so must we, in
the calmest state of our minds, prepare against this inward tur-
bulency. Art thou therefore subject to choler ? Look upon that passion
with sober eyes ; see whether it be any other but a short fit of
madness. Look upon the person of a man thus transported : see
his eyes red, glaring, sparkling ; his cheeks now pale as ashes,
then fiery and swollen up as with a poison ; his head and hands
shaking ; his lips quivering ; his mouth foaming ; his tongue
doubling; his feet unconstantly shifting; and the whole man,
which Hippocrates notes as the effect of a most desperate disease,
become utterly unlike himself. See, in another, how well this
form doth become thyself. Look upon thyself, be sensible of thine
own distemper ; thou shalt find anger justly fetched from angor,
" vexation ;" thou shalt find it (it is Austin's comparison) like to
vinegar, which discolours the vessel it stands in ; thou shalt find
thou canst not take up a coal to throw at another, but thou shalt
burn thy own fingers; thou shalt find that, while thou stingest
others, thou shalt make a drone of thyself, and that of Solomon

Sect. XV.] Christian Moderation. 441
shall be verified of thee, Anger resteth in the bosom of fools,
Eccl. vii. 9.
Look to the effects of it, thou shalt find it utterly disables thee
from good : The wrath of man doth not work the righteousness
of God, as St. James, ch. i. 20. Thou shalt find it exposes thee
to all mischief; for, He that hath no rule over his own spirit is-
like a city that is broken down, and without walls, saith
Solomon, Prov. xxv. 28. What enemy may not rush into such a
city at pleasure ! Just such advantage doth thine anger give to
thy spiritual enemies ; and therefore St. Paul, when he charges
us not to suffer the sun to go down upon our anger, Eph. iv. 26,
adds, Give no place to the devil; as if this continuing passion did
open the gates of the heart for Satan's entrance and free posses
sion. Thou shalt find this the great makebate of the world,
the beginner of all quarrels; for, as the churning of the milk
bringeth forth butter, and the wringing qf the nose bringeth
forth blood : so the forcing of wrath bringeth forth strife, saith
wise Solomon, Prov. xxx. 33. Wrath then brings forth quarrels,
and quarrels bloodshed, manslaughter, murders. What is it that
hath so drowned Christendom in blood, but the anger of discordant
princes? what but this is guilty of so many brutish duels, so
many bloody massacres ? And where thine anger shall stay when
it is once broke loose, it is not in thy power to determine. I am
sure if it stays not the sooner, it ends in a curse : Cursed be their
anger, for it was fierce ; and their wrath, for it was cruel,
Gen. xlix. 7.
Look but upon the temper of well governed heathens, and be
ashamed to hear an Archytas say to his bailiff, " I had punished
thee if I had not been angry :" or that philosopher say to Xeno-
crates, " Whip this boy, for I am angry :" or to see a greater
philosopher than he, who when he had discoursed against anger,
and showed how unfit the passion is for a wise man, one of his au
ditors purposely spit in his face ; from whom he received no other
answer but this : " 1 am not angry ; but I doubt whether I should
not be so :" or to see a Pisistratus, not more troubled with railing
words of an adversary, than if an hoodwinked man had reeled
upon him heedlessly in his way : or to hear a Socrates profess
himself no more affected with the scolding of his Xantippe, than
with the creaking of a cartwheel; and when he was uncivilly
washed from her chamber, to say only, "After such thunder I
looked for rain :" or to hear a Cato say, that he could and did

442 Christian Moderation. [Book I.
pardon all offenders but himself; and when Lentulus spat in his
face, to hear no other language fall from him than, " I will now
say those men are deceived that deny Lentulus to have a mouth:"
or to hear a Cleanthes, when one called hira ass, to say only, he
should be then fit to carry Zeno's budget : or to see a Crates,
when Nicodromus struck him with his fist, only to put a board
before his forehead with a jeering inscription. It were easy to
weary a reader with instances of this kind. And shall mere
Pagans, that were without God in the world, have such rule over
their passions ; and shall a Christian, who professeth a more divine
philosophy, and whose first lesson is to deny himself and to mortify
all evil and corrupt affections, give the reins to the wild and un
ruly eruptions of his rage ? How shall these heathens in profes
sion, justly condemn us professed Christians, who are in practice
heathenish !
Lastly, look but upon the terms wherein thou standest with
God ; how grievously dost thou provoke him every day to his
face ! One of thy offences against that infinite Majesty is more
than thou canst be capable to receive from all thine enemies upon
earth : yet, how "silently doth he pass over all thy heinous af
fronts ; and bids his sun to shine, and his rain to fall, as well
upon thy ground as the holiest owner's ! How graciously doth
he still invite thee to repentance ! How sweetly doth he labour
to win thee with new mercies ! And dost thou call thyself the
son of that Father whom thou wilt not imitate ? Dost thou pray
daily to him to forgive thee, as thou forgivest others, while thou
resolvest to forgive none whom thou canst plague with revenge ?
Look upon thy dear Redeemer, and hear him, while his cruel
executioners were racking out his hands and feet, and nailing them
to the tree of shame and curse, crying, Father, forgive them,
for they know not ivhat they do ; and canst thou give thyself out
for a disciple to this Saviour, if, for every offence of thy brother,
thou break forth into raging imprecations, railing speeches, fu
rious actions ? Lay all these seriously to thy heart, in the midst
of thy greatest tranquillity ; and have them ready before thine
eyes for the next onset of thy passion ; and withal ply thy God
with thy prayers, that he, who moulded thy heart at first, would
be pleased to temper it aright ; to cool these sinful inflammations
by the power of his grace, that so he may make good in thee that
happy word of the Psalmist, Surely the wrath qf man shall
praise thee : the remainder of wrath shalt thou restrain, Psalm
lxxvi. 10; Amen.

Christian Moderation. 443
BOOK II.
OF MODERATION IN MATTER OF JUDGMENT.

Section I. — Ofthe danger qf immoderation in matter of judg
ment, and of the remedy in general.
As it would be an hard competition betwixt intellectual errors
and practical, whether are the more heinous ; so would it be no
less difficult to determine,^whether moderation in matter of judg
ment or of practice be more necessary ; and whether neglect be
more dangerous.
For, surely, if the want of moderation in practice 'do most dis
tract every man', in his own particular, the want of moderation in
judgment distracts the whole world from itself : whence it is that
we find so miserable divisions all the earth over ; but especially,
so woful schisms and breaches in the Christian world ; wherein
we see one nation is thus divided from another, and each one
nation no less divided from itself a. For it cannot be, since every
man hath a mind of his own, not less different from others than
his face, that all should jump in the same opinion : neither can it
stand with that natural self-love, wherewith every one is pos
sessed, easily to forsake the child of his own brain, and to prefer
another man's conceit to his own : hereupon, therefore, it comes
to pass, that, while each man is engaged: to that opinion which
either his own election or his education hath feoffed him in, new
quarrels arise, and controversies are infinitely multiplied ; to the
great prejudice of God's truth, and to the] lamentable violation of
the common peaceb.
Would to God we could as well redress as bewail this misery,
wherewith Christendom is universally infested ! howsoever, it shall
not be utterly thankless fcf endeavour it. The remedy must go in
the same pace with the disease.
Whereas, therefore, there are two things which are guilty of
this mischief — error in doctrine — and distemper in affection — the
a Lata est ut dici solet differentia b Dispendio litis carere, non me-
inter artifices, sicut inter Theologicos dio creest lucrum. — Amb. de Ofjic. 1. ii.
doctores. — Gar. de propos. ab. Ep. hat- c. »i. [Paris. 1586. torn. iv. p. 491.]
reticandis.

444 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
former I must leave to the conviction of those polemical discourses
which have been so learnedly written of the several points of dif
ference ; as I suppose no human wit or industry can give any
further addition thereto : only I shall touch some such general
symptoms as are commonly incident into these controversies of
religion. My main drift is, to dwell upon the latter ; and to la
bour the reducing of men's hearts to a wise and Chistian mode
ration concerning differences in judgment.
Section II. — Lukewarmness to be avoided in religion.
Far be it from us to allow lukewarmness in the matters of
God ; a disposition which the Almighty professeth so much to
hate, that he could rather be content the angel of the church of
Laodicea should be quite cold, than in such a mambling of pro
fession. And indeed what temper is so offensive to the stomach
as this mean 1 tit only for a medicinal potion, whose end is ejection,
not for nourishment.
Those, whose devotion is only fashionable, shall in vain hope to
be accepted. It is a true word of St. Austin, " There is no love
where there is no zealc :" and what cares God for heartless fol
lowers, that are led only by example and form ? Such there are
that yawn not out of any inward cause, but because they see others
gape before them. As they sayd in the Abassin churches, if one
man sneeze, all the rest do, and must follow : men, like unto
mosse, which takes still the property of the bark it grows upon !
if upon the oak, it cools and binds ; if upon the pine and fir, it
digests and softens : or like unto the herbalist's dodder, which is
no simple in itself, but takes both his name and temper from the
herb out of which it arises ; if out of thyme, it is epithimium; if
out of the nettle, it is epiurtica.
That great lawgiver of old would have a punishment for
neuters : and well are they worthy, when the division is main
and essential. Such men are merely for themselves ; which have
the truth of God, in respect of persons ; not caring so much what
is professed, as by whom. Suidas f tells us of Musonius, so well
reputed of, that no further question was made of any man, if it
appeared he was Musonius's friend. Too many affect no other
worth in themselves than a dependence upon others ; holding it
c Qui non zelat, non amat.— A ug. contr. d S. Por. Prolegom. to the African Hist.
Adimant. c. 13. [Paris ed. Bened. 1694. ' Gerard. Herb. p. 1558. [Lond. 1597.
P- I270 p. 1369.] f Suid. verbo Musonius.

Sect. II.] Christian Moderation. 445
enough, that they are the clients of this famous doctor, of that
great saint. Such men, like as we have heard of some apothe
caries, which only by taking the vapour of some drug in the
stamping of it have been wrought upon, hold it sufficient for
them, to have received in the very air and empty titles of disci
ples, without respect to the grounds and substance of the
doctrine. The rule which the blessed apostle gave for our settlement in
some cases, is wont, by a common misconstruction, to be so ex
pressed, as if it gave way to a loose indifferency. The Vulgate
reads it, Let every one abound in his own sense ; as leaving each
man to his own liberty in those things of middle nature : whereas
his words, in their originals, run contrary ; — Let every one be fully
persuaded in his own mind; requiring a plerophory of assurance,
and not allowing an unsettled hesitation in what we do. And if
thus in matters of the least importance, how much more in the
great affairs of religion ! Here it holds well, which is the charge
of the apostle, It is good to be zealously affected in a good thing
always, Gal. iv. 18.
Nothing is more easy to observe, than that as it uses to be
with stuffs, that in their first making they are strongly wrought,
afterwards, in process of time, they grow to be slight, both in
matter and work ; so it falls out in religious professions. In the
first breaking out of a reformation, there appears much heat and
forwardness, which in time abates and cooleth ; so as the pro
fessor grows to the temper of our Baldwin, archbishop of Can
terbury, whom pope Urban of old greets11 in the style of a fer
vent monk, a warm abbot, a lukewarm bishop, a key-cold arch
bishop : or like unto those kites, of whom our writers' say, that
in their first years they dare prey upon greater fowls; after
wards, they seize upon lesser birds ; and the third year, fall
upon flies. Whence it is, that Melancthon k could foreguess, that
the time should come wherein men should be tainted with this
error, that either religion is a matter of nothing, or that the dif
ferences in religions are merely verbal.
Far be it from us thus to degenerate from our holy ancestors,

s Rom. xiv. 5. "Ekootos iv T& lb)i<o " Metuendum est, etiam in postrema
vot n\ripo<popelcrda>. mundi setate, magis hunc errorem gras-
h Girald. Cambrens. Itinerar. saturum esse, quod aut nihil sint reli-
i Thaumaturg. Nat. c. xxii. giones, aut differant tantum vocabulis,"
k Melanct. Postil. de Baptist. Christi : &c.

446 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
whose zeal made them true holocausts to God, and sent up their
souls in the smoke of that their acceptable sacrifice into heaven ;
that those truths which they held worthy bleeding for, we should
slight, as not worth pleading for. We cannot easily forgive that
wrong which our late Spalatensis1 did to our fresh -bleeding mar
tyrs, whom even before, by revolt, he blamed of lavishness ; as if
they might well have spared that expense of blood : although we
may well suppose he redeemed his error by dying for the same
truths for which they fried alive, as he dead. We know what
St. Basil answered to that great man, who would have persuaded
him to let fall his holy quarrel : " Those," saith he, " that are
trained up in the scriptures will rather die than abate a syllable
of divine truth m."
It is said" of Valentinian, that when the rude Scythians made
an incursion into the territories of the Roman empire, he so over
strained his lungs in calling upon his troops, that he presently
died; so vehement must we be when any main thing is in
question ; neither voice nor life must be spared in the cause of
the Almighty.
The gloss that is put0 upon the Act of Innocent the IVth, in
the council of Lyons, who graced the dignity of cardinalship with
a red hat, is, that it was done with an intention, as Martinus
Polonus construes it, to signify they should be ready to shed their
blood for Christ and his gospel, might well fit every Christian ;
perhaps somewhat better than those delicate mates of princes.
Whom should we imitate, but him whose name we bear, who ful
filled that ofthe Psalmist, his type, The zeal of thine house hath
even eaten me up ? Ps. lxix. 9 ; John ii. 17.
Section III. — Zeal required in the matters qf God ; but to
be tempered with discretion and charity.
We must be zealous ; we must not be furious. It is in matter
of religion as with the tending of a still ; if we put in too much
fire, it burns ; if too little, it works not : a middle temper must be
kept. A heat there must be, but a moderate one. We may not
be in our profession like a drowsy judge upon a Grecian bench,
who is fain to bite upon beans, to keep himself from sleeping P :
1 Spalat. part. iii. [Ostens : Err. F. n Suid. v. \elas.
Suarez. c. 1. § 38.] » Bin. in vita Innocentii. [Col. Agr.
m "Qui divinis innutriti sunt eloquiis," 1 606. torn iii. pars 2 p. 1481.]
&c- u Suid. v. Kva.p6Tpu^.

Sect. IV.] Christian Moderation. 447
neither may We be like that Grecian player who acted mad Ajax
upon the stage ; but we must be soberly fervent and discreetly
active. St. Paul's spirit was stirred within him, at Athens, to see
the idol-altars amongst those learned philosophers, and it breaks
out of his mouth in a grave reproof; I do not see him put his
hand furiously to demolish them. And if a Juventius and Maxi-
mian, in the heat of zeal, shall rail on wicked Julian at a feast, he
justly casts their death, not upon their religion, but their petu-
lancyl. It was a well made decree in the council of Eliberis1, that
if any man did take upon him to break down the idols of the
heathen, and were slain in the place, he should not be reckoned
amongst the martyrs.
There must be, then, two moderators of our zeal ; discretion and
charity, without either and both of which, it is no other than a
wild distemper ; and with them it is no less than the very life-
blood of a Christian, or the spirits of that blood. From the com
mon acts of both these joined together shall result these following
maxims, as so many useful rules of our Christian moderation.
Section IV. — Rules for Moderation in Judgment.
Rule the first. — To distinguish of persons.
The first is, that we must necessarily distinguish betwixt per
sons that are guilty of errors ; for, as St. Austin s well, it is one
thing to be an heretic, another thing to be misled by an heretic ;
and I may well add, according to our construction, it is one thing
to be an heretic, another thing to be an hseresiarch.
These three degrees there are, even in the most dangerous
errors of doctrine. There is a broacher and deviser of that wicked
opinion ; there are abettors and maintainers of it, once broached ;
there are followers of it, so abetted ; and all these, as they are in
several degrees of mischief, so they must all undergo an answer
able, whether aggravation or mitigation of our censure. Those,
who by false teachers are betrayed into that error wherein now,
either by breeding or by misinformation, they are settled, are worthy
q Theodor. 1. iii. cap. 15. 7000 militum prsesidiariorum trucidati
r Concil. Eliber. c. 60. [Si quis idola sint. Melanct. Postill. Fer. ii. post Ad-
fugerit et ibidem fuerit occisus, &c] vent, ex Diodoro Sic.
Miles q. praesidiarius Rom. Felem, s Aug. de Utilitate Cred. c. i. [ed.
quam .35gyptii colebant ut Deum, inter- Bened. torn. viii. p. 45.]
fecit : hinc tantus exortus tumultus, ut

448 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
of as much pity as dislike ; those who, out of stiffness of resolution
and stomach of sidetaking, shall uphold and diffuse a known error,
are worthy of hatred and punishment; but those who, out of
ambition, or other sinister respects, shall invent and devise per
nicious doctrines, and thereby pervert others for their own ad
vantages, are worthy of a maranatha and the lowest hell.
We do easily observe it thus in all real offences of an high
nature. Absalom contrives the conspiracy against his father ; the
captains second and abet it ; the common people follow both of
them in acting it. He should be an ill judge of men and actions,
who should but equally condemn the author of the treason and
those that follow Absalom with an honest and simple heart. Nei
ther is it otherwise in the practice of all those princes who would
hold up the reputation of mercy and justice. While the heads of
a sedition are hanged up, the multitude is dismissed with a gene
ral pardon. And if, in all good and commendable things, the first
inventor of them is held worthy of a statue or record, when as the
following practisers are forgotten ; why should there not be the
like difference in evil ?
Those poor souls therefore, who do zealously walk in a wrong
way, wherein they are set by ill guides, may not be put into the
same rank with their wicked misleaders. As we have reason to
hope God will be merciful to the well-meant errors of those silly
ones, so must we enlarge the bowels of our compassion to their
miscarriage : while in the mean time we may well pray, with the
Psalmist, that God would not be merciful to those that offend of
malicious wickedness.
Section V. — The Second Rule for Moderation. — To distinguish
of truths and errors.
Secondly, we must distinguish between truths necessary, and
truths additional or accessory ; truths essential, and accidental
truths ; truths fundamental, and truths superedified : and in them,
truths weighty and important, and truths slight and merely scho-
lastical : for these are worthy of a far different consideration.
Those truths which are of the foundation and essence of reli
gion are necessarily to be known, believed, embraced of all men ;
and the obstinate opposers of them are worthy of our careful
avoidance and hardest censure. Truths important, though not
fundamental, are worthy of our serious disquisition and knowledge.

Sect. V.] Christian Moderation. 449
All other truths are commendable, and may be of good use in
their kinds and places : but so, as that he who is either ignorant
of them, or otherwise minded concerning them, hath his own free
dom ; and must not, so he trouble not the common peace, forfeit
our charitable opinion.
We see it is thus in the body. There are some vital parts ; a
wound received in them is no less than mortal. There are other
which, though useful and serviceable, and such as make up the
integrity of the body, yet such as wherein the main fort of life
doth not consist : these cannot be hurt without pain, but may be
hurt without much peril. There are yet, besides these, certain
appendances to the outward fabric of the body, which serve both
for decency and convenience ; the loss whereof may be with less
danger, but hot with less smart than of some limb : to tear off the
hair, or to beat out a tooth, is far from manslaughter, yet an act
of violence and a breach of peace.
It is no otherwise in the body of religion. A limb may be
maimed, or a joint displaced, yet the heart whole; some append-
ance may be violated, and yet the body whole.
It is a true word, that of Columbanus' of old, that "necessary
truths are but few." Not many stones need to make up the
foundation of Christian faith ; twelve will serve : whereas many
quarries, perhaps, may be laid in the superstructure.
There are some things, saith Gerson, which are de necessitate
fidei, whereof we may not doubt ; other things are de pietate vel
devotione fidei, wherein there is more scope of belief. That which
he speaks of historical verities is no less true in doctrinal. I know
no book so necessary for these times as that De Paucitate Cre-
dendorum ; nor any one article of our belief more needful than
that we need not believe more than the apostles. Other point8
may be the care of scholars, need not be of Christians.
It was the observation of wise and learned Erasmus, which hath
run oftentimes in my thoughts : " The doctrine of the Church,"
saith he u, " which at the first was free from quarrels, began to de
pend upon the aids and defences of philosophy ; this was the first
degree of the Church's declination to the worse. Wealth began
"to come upon her, and power grew with it. The authority of
' Columban. c. v. "Pauca sunt neces- sidiis pendere : hie erat primus, &c.
saria vera." Erasm. Prosfat. ad Opera Ililarii. [ed.
a Doctrina Christi, qua? prius nescie- Basil. 1570.]
bat \oyonaxlav, coepit a philosophise prav
EP. HALL, VOL. VI. G g

450 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
emperors taking upon them to intermeddle in the affairs of re
ligion did not much help to further the sincerity of the faith. At
last it came to sophistical contentions ; thousands of hew articles
brake forth ; from thence it grew to terrors and threats ; and
since to blows." Lo the miserable degrees of the Church's dis
turbance. We have almost lost religion and peace in the multi
plicity of opinions.
It is worth observing by what degrees it pleased God to com
municate to us men' his will and our duty. At the first, we hear
of no charge given to our first parents, but of refraining from the
tree of knowledge. Afterwards, as the Jewish doctors teach,
there were six only precepts imposed on Adam and his seed : the
first, against idolatry, that he should worship no other gods ; the
second, of his veneration of the only true God ; the third, against
bloodshed ; the fourth, against wild and incestuous lusts ; the fifth,
against stealth ; the sixth, concerning due administration of j ustice.
After these, one yet more was added to Noah and his sons, of not
eating flesh alive, viz. in the blood of it, Gen. ix. 4. Yet after
this, one more was given to Abraham concerning circumcision.
At last the complete Law is given in ten words to Moses in Horeb.
The judicials are for commentaries upon those moral statutes.
With these God's people contented themselves, till traditions be
gan to be obtruded upon them by presumptuous teachers. These
our Saviour cries down as intolerable, insolent depravations of the
Law. The Messiah is come. With how few charges doth he load his
people ! that they should believe, repent, deny themselves, con
stantly profess him, search the scriptures, follow peace, love one
another, and communicate in his remembrance : and his apostles,
with only, Go, teach, and baptize: and strive who shall serve
best. After his glorious ascension into heaven, the apostles, assembled
in their council at Jerusalem, lay no other new weight upon the
Gentile converts, but to abstain from pollutions of idols, from
fornication, things strangled, and blood.
When the Church was well enlarged and settled, what did the
four general councils offer to the world, but the condemnation of*
those four heresies which then infested the Church x ?
x Numquam audivimus Petrinos, aut Epiph. 1. i. [torn. iii. cont. Marcion.
Paulinos, aut Bartholomaeanos, &c. sed, Paris. 1622. torn. i. p. 366.]
ab initio, una prasdicatio apostolorum. —

Sect. VI.] Christian Moderation. 451
Time and busy heads drew on these varieties of conclusions
and deductions which have bred this grievous danger and vexa
tion to God's people ; insomuch, as it is now come to that pass,
that, as he said of old, it is better to Hve in a commonwealth
where nothing is lawful, than where every thing ; so, it may no
less justly be said, that it is safer to live where there is no faith
professed, than where every thing is made matter of faith.
The remedy must be, that our judgments revert to that first
simplicity of the gospel, from which the busy and quarrelsome
spirits of men have drawn us ; and that we fix and rest there.

Section VI. — The third rule of Moderation, viz. — The avoidance
of curiosity.
To which end, it shall be requisite, thirdly, to avoid curiosity, in
the search or determination of immaterial and superfluous truth.
I know not whether the mind of man be more unsatiable in the
desire of knowledge, or more unweariable in the pursuit of it ;
which we are all apt to affect upon several grounds : for, as Ber-
nard? well, some would know that they might be known ; this is
vanity : others, that they might sell their knowledge ; this is
baseness : some, that they may edify others ; this is charity :
some, that they may be edified ; this is wisdom : and some, lastly,
would know only that they may know ; this is fond curiosity ; a
vicious disposition of the soul, which doth not more show itself in
the end than in the object of our knowledge : for surely, to seek
after the knowledge of those things which are necessary or useful
can be no other than praiseworthy.
There are, saith St. Austin2, two kinds of persons very com
mendable in religion : the former, those who have found the
truth ; the latter, those who do studiously inquire for it. It is
most true of those truths which are important and essential ; but
to spend ourselves in the search of those truths which are either
unrevealed or unprofitable, it is no other than a labour ill lost3.
Yet, alas ! these are they which commonly take up the thoughts
of men. How busily have some disputed, whether Adam, if he
J Bern Serm. in Cant. 36. [Ed. Paris. a Nesciunt necessaria, quia superflua
1 719. torn. i. p. 1404.] didicerunt. — E Senec. Gars de Neglig.
z Aug. de Utilitat. Cred. c. xi. [Ed. Prcelatorum.
Bened torn, viii, p. 61.]
G g 2

452 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
had continued in his innocence, should have slept or no; or whe
ther he would have needed that reposeb ! others, whether, if
Adam, in his innocency, had known his wife, after she was con
ceived of child, he had in this sinned, or noc ! others, if he had
begotten children in the state of innocence, whether they should
immediately upon their birth have had the use of their limbs and
members, for their present provision, as other creatures have4!
others, whether, in that first estate, there should have been more
males or ..females born ! others, what space there was betwixt the
creation of angels and man, and their falle !
Thus, a Peter Lombard is devising a distinction betwixt modo
quodam and quodam modo( ; and a Jo. Major disputed, whether
a man may equitare sine equoS ; and Matreas, as Suidasn hath
it, in a poem that he frames of Aristotle's doubts, makes this one,
" How the sun should, in his setting, go down into the ocean, and
not swim." Thus, an over-leisured Italian hath made a long dis
course, "How a man may walk all day through the streets of
Rome in the shade." Thus, a licentiate of Paris takes upon him
to defend, " That there is something God really, which is not for
mally God' :" another, " That there are other priorities and poste
riorities in the divine Persons besides those of their origination :"
another, "That the divine Persons are distinguished per abso-
luta :" another, as our Bradwardine and Jo. Major and Vasquez,
" That God is in vacuo :" and in our day, Hurtado de Mendoza, a
Spaniard, strains his wit to prove the possibility of an infinity of
magnitude. And what subtle disquisitions and long volumes are
spent upon a certain middle knowledge in God, between his
knowledge of simple intelligence, which is of what may be or is
fit to be ; and that of vision, which is his knowledge of what shall
be ; betwixt which two, some have placed a third, a mid-know
ledge of future-conditionate-contingentsk. And, lastly, what a
world of work is on foot betwixt the Scotists on the one side
and the Thomists and Dominicans on the other, concerning God's
b Alens. torn. ii. q. 86, m. 3. [Alex. h Suidas, v. Matreas.
Ales or Hales, Summa Theol. pars ii. • Gers. Epist. ad Quendam Fratrem
Ed.Ven. 1575. p. 166.] Minorem. Quis non horreat profanas
c Ib'd- 1- 88- novitates et verborum et sensuum? Bei-n.
d Ibjd- 1- 89- Epist. 190. \errro\oy6v ^St) (nrett, Kal
" Ibid- memb. 11. wtpl Ka-wvov aTevoXtoxttv, ut de nuga-
f Ames, de Resist. Gratia, c. viii. tore, Hermippus.
[Rescript, ad respons. N. Grevinchovii.] k D. Twiss. de Scientia Media, [adv
* Melanct. Apolog. advers. Paris. So- Gab. Penottum] &c.
phist. [Ed.Witeberg.1583. torn. ii. p. 83.]

Sect. VI.] Christian Moderation. 453
foreknowledge of evil, and concerning the real existence of future
things in eternity, and other the like subtleties !
Good Lord ! where will the mind of man take up ? how rest
less, how boundless, are the brains of curious men ! and especially
in this last age : for surely it is a true word of Gerson1, Mundus
senescens patitur phantasias : " The world now in his old age is
full of fancies." It is with it as it is with us : the sleep of the
aged must needs be so much fuller of imaginations, as they have
hved to see more objects to furnish them. Justly may we take
up that complaint of Alvarez Pelagius : " He is nobody for know
ledge nowadays that devises not some novelty1"." Festus slan
dered St. Paul, when he said, too much learning had made him
mad : certainly, it is no slander to say of too many, that too much
learning, as it is used, hath made them foolish and wanton in
their speculations.
There cannot be a truer sentence than that of the Grecians,
'O xpijo-t/j,' eiSois11, "Wisdom consists not in the knowledge of many
things, but of things profitable." Our forefathers, as they came
short of us in knowledge, so they went beyond us in piety and
peace0- The Jewish doctors say of father Abraham, that he had
no master but his own reins : those, holy David said, were his
teachers also ; and devout Bernard tells his friend Murdach, with
an experto credeP, that he shall find more in the woods than
in his books. " The trees and stones," said he, " shall teach thee
that which thou canst not hear from thy masters. Thinkest thou
not, thou mayest suck honey from the rock, and oil out of the
hardest stone."
Marvellous is the improvement both of the means and measure
of knowledge in these last days in comparison of the former.
" Of old," saith Erasmus 1, "there were no schools of divi
nity ; and Augustin was held an invincible logician, for that he
had read Aristotle's Categories: at last, divinity came to the
height, if not beyond it : the sacred scriptures, with the ancient
authors, were laid aside," &c. The time was, when synods were
fain to enact, that none should be promoted to ecclesiastical bene-
1 Gers. contra Superstitiosos. q. ob- sost. in Matth. xxiv. Horn. 76. [&4\tiov
serv. ayvoeiv KaA&s ^ pavBdveiv Kaiccl>s.~\
m Non est sciens, hodie, qui novitates p Experto crede, aliquid amplius in-
non invenit. [Adv. Pelag.] De Planet, venies, in sylvis quam in libris. — Bern.
Eccl. 1. ii. Epist. Henrico Murdach. Ep. 106.
n 'O xtyh'riH-' «SAs, ovx & iroAk' (iSiii?, 1 Erasm. Epist. 1 xxii. Joan. Episc.
aotpis. [inexpugnabilis Dialecticus quod legisset
0 Praestat proba ignoratione detineri, Categorias Aristotelis, Lond. 1642. p.
quam falsa opinione mancipari. — Cliry- 11 90.]

454 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
fices, but those wliich could competently read and sing ; nor to
canonships in cathedrals, but those which could read, sing, and
competently construe' : not to holy orders, but those that could
literaliter loquis. The world is well mended with us, since our
king Alfred translated Gregory's Pastoral out of Latin into
Saxon; that it might be understood of the bishops and priests:
and in his preface to it writes4 thus ; " Knowledge was so utterly
lost from among the English nation, that there were very few on
this side of Humber that could so much as understand their own
common prayers in the English tongue, or translate any writing
out of Latin into English. Surely, there were so few, that I do
not remember one on the south part of Thames when I began to
reign." Thus Alfred : before whose time, Withredus, king of
Kent, was fain to subsign his characters with a cross ; professing
to do it pro ignorantia literai'umu. And the old rule was, " A
bishop, that is ignorant of his grammar, is to be deposed*."
Now, blessed be God, knowledge abounds every where. The
press hath helped to diffuse it all the world over : which, while it
was only transmitted by the labour of a single pen, must needs be
more sparingly imparted.
And, as it uses to be in other cases, plenty hath bred wanton
ness, and prodigal expense of wit ; whereby we are grown to such
excess, that it were happy, except men had more rule of their
skill, that there were less knowledge in the world and better
affections. We have reason, in this regard, to envy the safe and
quiet simplicity of our forefathers, who contented themselves with
the honest plainsong of that whereof we affect to run upon infinite
descant. It is well observed by Gersony, that it falls out oftentimes,
there is more fervour of devotion where there is less natural
knowledge : whence we find great praise of sanctity given to
some eminent persons who came short even of ordinary skill.
Bernard2 saith of his devout brother Gerard, that he had no
learning at all, but that he had a clear understanding, and an
illuminated spirit : and Sozomena, when he speaks of Anthony
r Concil. Raven, [a. 1311. Ruhr. 16. » Anno C. 7oo.D.Henr. Spelm. Cone.
"competenter construere."] Brit. [Lond. 1639. p. 198.]
s Concil. Sabinen. in Hisp 1322. " Episcopus ignorans grammaticam
' Alured Pra3fat. ad Versum a se Lib. deponatur.
Pastor. Greg. D. Henr. Spelman. Vo- y Gers. Tract, de Cantichordo.
lum. i. Synod. Brit. [See this preface ' Bern. Serm. in Cant. 26. [Ed. Paris.
in Anglo-Saxon and Latin in F. Wise's 1719. torn. i. p. 1361.]
Annales Her. GcHt. Mlfr. Regis. Oxon. a Sozom. 1. i. c. 13.
1732. p. 87.]

Sect. VII.] Christian Moderation. 455
the hermit, says, he neither had any skill in learning, neither did
greatly esteem it ; but cared only to have a pure and holy mind,
as that which was more ancient and more worthy than any learn
ing in the world : and Paul the Simple, a man famous both for
sanctimony and miracles, had so little knowledge, as that which I
have stood amazed to read, he asked whether the prophets were
before Christ and his apostles, or after.
The truth is, religion, as the chancellor15 of Paris well, is not a
school of learning, but a discipline of living : and he is much more
acceptable to God that hath so much knowledge as doth enable
him to worship and serve that divine Majesty devoutly, and to
live holily, than he, who with Berengarius could dispute of omne
scibile, or with Solomon could discourse of all things, from the
moss on the wall to the highest cedar0. Gregory said truly,
"Nothing can be offered to God more rich and precious than a
good will :" and Phocyon's law is magnified for a divine one ;
" Let virtue and goodness take place, and let all other things
pass for trifles."
That, therefore, which was wont to be said of Pythagoras, that
he reduced the speculative philosophy to use, and that which
was said of the cynics, that, without regard of logic and natural
philosophy, they were all for morality ; I could be apt to wish in
our divine philosophy. It were happy for the Church of God, if,
laying aside all curious disquisitions of impertinent truths, we
would apply ourselves wholly to the knowledge and mainte
nance of those only points which are necessary to salvation, and
to the zealous practice of those things which we assuredly know ;
leaving the rest to those school-divines who have both faculty and
leisure to discuss them'1.
Section VII. — The fourth rule of Moderation. — To rest
in those fundamental truths ivhich are revealed
clearly in the scriptures.
Now, that we be not left upon uncertainties in this quest of
b Gers. Tract. 8. super Magnif. cursitabat ad videndum illud, quod sa-
c Sed multos video studiosos, paucos cerdos ostendit ; sed, prostratis humi
religiosos : amant lectionem, non reli- corporibus, animis in coelum erectis,
gionem ; imo, amore lectionis in odium gratias agebant Christo Redemptori,
incidunt religionis. Hugo. I ii. Miscel. qui nos suo sanguine lavit, sua morte
c. 52. redemit, &c. Eras, de AmabilitateConcor-
d Tempore veteris Ecclesise Romanae, dice Eccles. Basil. 1596. [Op. torn. v. p.
[Nam id temporis olim,] populus non 422. Basil. 1540.]

456 Christian Moderation. [Book IL
saving truth, it will be requisite for us to know and resolve,
fourthly, that all these fundamental verities, necessary to salvation,
are clearly laid before us in the sacred monuments of divine
scriptures. In them is the full and easy direction of a Christian's
both belief and practice. It is the question appointed6 by our
Church to be proposed to every candidate of holy orders, whe
ther he believe this truth ; and his engagement thereupon punc
tually follows. And if here be enough to make the man of God
perfect, much more an ordinary Christian.
There are indeed unfathomable depths in that ocean, wherein
we shall vainly hope to pitch our anchor ; but all ^necessary
truths need not much line. " In those things, which are clearly
laid down in scripture," saith St. Austin f, " are found all those
points, which contain faith and rules of living, viz. hope and
charity." And need we care for more than these ? Let me be
lieve well, and live well ; let who list take thought for more.
What a madness were it to forsake the living waters, and to
dig for ourselves cisterns that will hold no water ! What a disease
in our appetite, when we have wholesome provision laid before
us, to nauseate all good dishes, and to long for mushrooms,
whereof some are venomous, all unwholesome !
It was the justice of Laeedaemon, that when Terpander the
musician added one string more to his harp than ordinary, ba
nished him the citys. The great doctor of the Gentiles could
say ; If we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel
to you, let him be accursed, Gal. i. 8 : he doth not say " a con
trary gospel," but anotlier ; such as that evangelium ceternum of
the friars ; such as that Symbol of the Twelve new Articles, in
Pius's Profession.
It had some colour that Tannerus the Jesuit held in the
public disputation with Hunniush, who stoutly defended it to
be a matter of faith that Tobit had a dog, because it rested
upon the authority of that which he supposed canonical scripture,
the indubitate truth whereof is the first principle of Christianity,
however some particular clauses, in themselves considered, may
carry no such weight; but to obtrude a necessity of new and
traditional truths, besides those which God hath revealed, what is
it but to make ourselves more wise and careful than our Maker ?
" Vid. Libr. Ordinat. to. wa\. t&v Aok. eirmjS. xvii.]
f Aug. de Doctr. Christ. 1. ii. c. 9. •¦ Vide Relat. Colloq. Chamier. [Act.
[Ed. Ben. c. 14.] Colloqu. Ratisb. Sessio xi. Monachii
•r- Plut. Customs of Laced. [Plutarch. 1602. p. 132. 7.]

Sect. VII L] Christian Moderation. 457
Woe be to those men on whose heads lies so much innocent
blood of orthodox Christians, which hath been shed for those
causes which God never owned ! Woe be to those anathemas
which are spent upon true-believjng souls : such as can say, in
sincerity of heart and clearness of judgment, with Erasmus1,
" Either acquit me with the apostle, or condemn the apostle
with me!"

Section VIII. — The fifth rule of Moderation. — To be
remiss and facile in unimporting verities, both
in our opinion and censure.
Now, as we cannot be too stiff and zealous for the maintenance
of those truths which are necessary and pure, De fide, as Ger
son11 styles them ; so, fifthly, it is required to Christian modera
tion, that, in all collateral and unimportant verities, we should be
remiss and easy both in our opinion and censure ; not too per
emptorily resolving, not too eagerly pressing, not too sharply
judging. In main matters, it is good to take up that resolution of Gre
gory, commended by Gerson1, that "it is more profitable to en
dure a scandal," through breach of peace, " than an abandoning
of truth ;" and that honour of Rotterdam m, " I had rather be
torn in pieces by the furious abettors of both sides, than be safe
and quiet on the wrong part ;" but in points of a baser alloy,
St. Austin's11 rule is not more wise than modest ; " I may think
one thing ; another man may think another : I dp neither pre
scribe to him nor he to me." Learned and wise Erasmus0 ob
served well ; " There are many things which do no harm while
they are neglected ; but when they are once stirred, raise up
grievous tragedies in the world." Even in the poorest matters,
what broils are raised by contradiction ! what fearful bloodsheds
hath this island yielded for but the carrying of a cross? I what
stirs have been in the whole Christian church for the difference
of an Easter day! what broils for a few poor harmless ceremo-
1 Erasm. Epist. Colleg. Sorbon. [Lib. solus ab utriusque partis insanioribus
xxii. Ep.19. p. 1153. Lond. 1642.] dilacerari, quam esse tutus in parte dam -
1 Gers. [in] assert. Jo. parvi "utilius nata." [L. xxi. Ep. 44.]
nasci scandalum permittitur, quam veri- " Aug. in Ps. xvi.
tas deseratur." [Gers, torn. i. pars i. ° Erasm. 1. xxii. Colleg. Sorb. [Ep.19.
xiv. D.] Lond. 1642. p. 1155.]
k Gers. Declar. Defect. p Vide [Foxe's] Acts and Mon. and
m Eras. Senatui Paris. "Malui nempe Bromiard. v. Honor.

458 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
nies ! As for the sacramentarian quarrels, Lord, how bitter have
they been, bow frequent, how long, in six several successions of
learned conflicts') ! As if we Christians meant to imitate those
heathens which dwelt about the marshes of Triton, the Auses and
Machlyesr; amongst whom the manner was, when they kept
their anniversary feast to the honour of Minerva, that their vir
gins divided themselves into troops, and entertained each other
with stones and clubs; and if any of them received a death's-
wound in the fray, she was straight cried down, as no maid. In
these cases, the very victory is miserable ; and such, as Pyrrhus
said of his, as is enough to undo the conqueror.
As good physicians, then, when they desire to recover their
patient, labour to make peace amongst the humours ; so must we
do in a sick church ; and if we cannot compose them to a discreet
moderation, yet at least it will be fit to hold off from a passionate
side-taking. It is noted by Suidas s, that Heber was not amongst
the builders of Babel's tower, and therefore his language was not
altered; and it is worth observing, that Korah's sons perished
not in the common destruction of their parents and kinsfolks, for
that they fled from the conspirators to Moses, Num. xxvi. u. If
we would find favour as storks, we must not consort with cranes.
Now, that we may be capable of this peaceable temper, we
must be free from these two vices, pride and pertinacy. Whereof
the one forestalls the heart with an overweening of ourselves and
our opinions; not enduring a contradiction: the other obdures it
against any means of reformation ; resolving to hold the conclu
sion in spite of the premises.
For the first ; Only by pride cometh contention, saith wise
Solomon, Prov. xiii. 10. This is it that makes a man scorn the
common track ; and lifts him up with the conceit of his own abi
lities, and of the validity of his own grounds ; not without a con
temptuous undervaluing of all others.
We find it thus in all experience. For my part, I never met
with any, as worthy master Greenham hath noted before me, if
but a schismatical spirit, whom I have not sensibly discerned thus
tainted. Take but a separatist, a blue aproned man, that never
knew any better school than his shopboard ; if he do not think
himself more truly learned than the deepest doctor, and a better
interpreter of scripture than the greatest divine, I am no less
i Jo. Jeslerus Scaphus de Diuturni- r Hospin. de Festis. ASrjytua. [Tiguri
tate Belli Eucharist. 1593. p. 133.] " Suidas v. Hebrcci.

Sect. VI.] Christian Moderation. 459
mistaken than he. Hence it is that they affect a singularity, and
keep aloof from others, both in practice and opinion: wherein a
proud man is like unto oil, which will ever swim aloft, and will
by no means mix with water.
Contrarily, the only disposition that fits the heart for peace
(indeed all other graces) is humility. That cloth which the fuller
would perfectly whiten yields itself to be trampled upon. They
are low pits wherein the stars may be seen by day. They are
the valleys, and not the shelving hills, that soak in the waters of
heaven. The Jewish doctors say well*, that in a true disciple of Abra
ham there must be three things ; a good eye, a meek spirit, an
humble soul : the first frees 'him from envy ; the second from im
patience ; and the third from pride : these two last will teach
him to acknowledge and admire other men's better faculties, and
to abase his own ; to be ready to submit to clearer reason and
irrefragable authority, and modestly to distrust his own.
It was a word worthily commended in Pothou, a good bishop
near five hundred years ago : " Are we more learned and more
devout than the fathers? or do we presume proudly to deter
mine of those things which their wisdom thought meet to be
pretermitted 1" Surely he that bears this mind cannot easily err,
cannot err dangerously.
It is possible, I confess, to go too far in our reliance upon
others' judgments. I cannot like that of Erasmus v, who pro
fesseth to his Bilibaldus, that he ascribed so much to the au
thority of the Church, that if she bad thought meet to have
allowed the opinion of Arius or Pelagius, he should have assented
thereunto. This is too much servility. In these manifest and main
truths we have no reason to make flesh our arm. If all the world
should face me down that the sun shines not, I would be par
doned to believe my eyes; and if all the philosophers under
heaven should with Zeno defend that there is no motion. I
would with Diogenes confute them by walking x. But in all
those verities, which are disputable and free for discourse, let
* Pirke Avoth. alios valeat authoritas Ecclesiae nescio :
u Potho Prumiensium Episcopus, Certe, apud, me tantum valet, ut cum
1150.' in Lib. [iii sub finem] de Statu Arianis et Pelagianis sentire possim, si
Dom. Dei [Sacr. Bibl. S. Patrum De la probasset Ecclesia, quod illi docuerunt."
Bigne. Paris. 1589. torn. ix. p. 1210.] Bilibaldo [lib. xx. Ep. 3. p. 959.]
Hospin. de Orig. Fest. Christ. x Laert. [Diog. Laert. 1. vi. c. 39.]
v Eras. Epist. Illustr. " Quantum apud

460 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
me ever be swayed by the sacred authority of that orthodox
Church wherein I live.
Pertinacy is the next; which indeed is the only thing that
makes a heretic. Let the error be heinous ; yet if there be not a
perverse stiffness in the maintenance of it, it amounts not to the
crime of heresy ; much less is it so in case of a relenting schism.
It was a good speech of Erasmus Y: " I cannot be an heretic,
unless I will ; and since I neither am nor will be so, I will endea
vour to use the matter so as that I may not be thought to be
one." The course is preposterous and unnatural that is taken up by
quarrelsome spirits : first, they pitch their conclusion, and then
hunt about for premises to make it good. This method is for
men that seek for victory, not for truth ; for men that seek not
God, but themselves : whereas, the well-disposed heart being first
upon sure grounds convinced of the truth which it must necessa
rily hold, cares only in essential verities to guard itself against
erroneous suggestions ; and in the rest is ready to yield unto
better reason. He is not fit to be a gamester that cannot be
equally content to lose and win ; and in vain shall he profess mo
rality that cannot with Socrates set the same face upon all
events, whether good or evil. In all, besides necessary truths,
give me the man that can as well yield as fight z. In matters of
this nature, I cannot like the spirits of those Lacedemonian dames,
which gave the shields to their sons with the peremptory condi
tion of 77 rav rj ct! rasa.
Surely, he is better accepted of God, that in these frays of
indifferency doth peaceably lay down the bucklers, than he that
lays about him with the greatest ostentation of skill and valour.
In things of this kind, meekness may do God more service than
courage. They say milk quenches wildfire better than any other
liquor ; and we find, in all experience, that the pores are better
opened with a gentle heat than with a violent.
The great apostle was content to become all things to all, that
he might win some : how was he all to all, if he did not some
times remit of his right to some? He that resisteth Peter, the
prime apostle, to his face, in the case of a perilous temporizing,
y Erasm. Epist. 1. xxii. [Ep. 19.] Coll. extremam.— Gers. de Yita Spir. Animte,
Sorb. &c. lect 4. corol. 1 1 .
« A literato quodam et experto iro a Suidas_ [plut LaCfen. Apophthegm.
accepi, perniciosam esse, in omni arte Oxon. i7qs. tin 682 1
vel doctrina, assertioncm audacem et

Sect. IX.] Christian Moderation. 461
Gal. ii. ii, yet gave way to James and the other brethren, to
purify himself with the four votaries in the temple, Acts xxi.
18-26. Shortly then, as he is a wise man that knows when it is time
to yield ; so is he a peaceable son of the Church that yields when
he sees it time"; and by this means provides for his own com
fortable discharge and the pubhc tranquillity ; that can be in
necessary truths an oak, and a reed in truths indifferent.
Section IX. — Remissness in matter of Censure.
In matters of this nature whereof we treat, true moderation
requires the peaceable Christian to be not more yielding in his
opinion than favourable in his censures of the contrary-minded :
for it is a fearful violation both of charity and justice to brand
an adversary in matter of slight opinions with the odious note of
sect or heresy ; and no less presumption, to shut that man out
of heaven whom God hath enrolled in the book of life.
In all other things, saith the chancellor « of Paris, besides those
which are merely matters of faith, the Church may either deceive
or be deceieved, and yet hold charity still.
And as it is a good rule that is given to visitors'1, that they
should be sparing in making decrees, lest the multitude of them
should bring them into contempt ; so it is a rule no less profitable
to spiritual governors which Erasmus relates out of Gerson, " that
they should not rashly throw about the thunderbolts of their
censurese." We cannot be too severe in the main matters of religion;
though not without that wise item of Cicero, that nothing that is
cruel can be profitable*, the remissness wherein may be no other
than an injurious mercy : but in things of slighter condition, we
must be wiser than to draw a sword to kill flies ; neither is it for
us to call for scorpions, where a rod is too much.
It is remakable, that of Gallienus, who, when his wife had
complained to hira of a cheater, that had sold glass pearls to her
for true, made as if he would have cast him to the lions: the
b Non turpe est sententiam mutare, e Ne temere vibret fulmen excom-
sed in malo perseverare funestum et municationis. [condemnat eos qui tanta
exitiosum. — Greg. Naz. Orat. 32. [ovk t\ levitate ne dicam temeritate fulminant
psTdBtatt Tb alaxpov ex€l> a\K* j] tov Kaxov excommunicationes, &c. — Gerson. de vit.
T-hpnats tV anti\etav.~i Spir. Animce. Pars iii. Ixii. P.]
c Gerson. Declar. Defect. ' Nihil quod crudele, utile. Offie. [1. iii.
d Gavant. Praxis Compend. Visit. c. n.]

462 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
offender, looking for those fierce beasts, was only turned loose to
a cock. In some cases, shame and scorn may be a fitter punish
ment than extreme violence. We may not make the tent too big
for the wound, nor the plaister too broad for the sore.
It was grave counsel, that St. Austins gave to his Alypius, that
heed must be taken, lest, while we go about to amend a doubtful
complaint, we make the breach wider. And that rule was too
good for the author, John xxiih, that, in a case uncertain, we
should rather determine within the bounds than exceed them.
Even in plain convictions, violence must be the last remedy ; as
in outward bodily extremities, by Hippocrates's prescription, ignis
and ferrum must be last tried : for generous spirits, as Erasmus1
well, desire to be taught, abide not to be forced. It is for tyrants
to compel, for asses to be compelled : and, as Seneca observes,
a good natured horse will be governed by the shadow of the wand ;
whereas a sullen resty jade will not be ordered by the spur.
St. Paul puts it to the choice of his Corinthians, Will ye, that
I come to you with a rod, or with the spirit of meekness ? as loath
to use the rod, unless he were constrained by their wilful disobe
dience. Much have they, therefore, to answer for, before the
tribunal of Heaven, who are apt to damn Christians better than
themselves ; sending all the clients of the north-western, Grecian,
Russian, Armenian, Ethiopic Churches down to hell, without
redemption, for varying from them in those opinions which only
themselves have made fundamental.
And herein we are happy, that we suffer for our charity;
rather choosing to incur the danger of a false censure from un
charitable men, than to pass a bloody and presumptuous censure
upon those, who, how faultily soever, profess the dear name of our
common Saviour. Let them, if they please, affect the glory of a
Turkish justice, in killing two innocents rather than sparing one
guilty k ; let us rather choose to answer for mercy, and sooner
take than offer an unjust or doubtful violence.
Section X. — The sixth rule of Moderation. — Not to believe an
opposite, in the state of a tenet or person.
Sixthly, to a man of peace nothing is more requisite than a
<s Aug. Alypio, Epist 239. [Ed. Bened. ' Erasm. Godeschalco. [L. xv. Ep.
Ep.83.] 18.]
L John xxii. apud Navar. in Man. c. k Mr. Blunts observation, in his
xvii. Journey to the Levant,

Sect. X.] Christian Moderation. 463
charitable distrust : viz. that we should not take an adversary's
word for the state of his opposite.
They were, amongst the rest, two necessary charges, that
Erasmus gave to his Goclenius, To be sober and incredulous1 :
for, as there is nothing that raises so deadly hostility as religion,
so no criminations are either so rife or so heinous, as those which
are mutually cast upon the abettors of contrary opinions.
We need not go far to seek for lamentable instances. Let a
man believe Andrew Jurgiersicius, he will think the Protestants
hold no one article of the Apostles' Creed. Let him believe
Campian, he shall think we hold God to be the author of sin ;
that the Mediator between God and man, Jesus, died the second
death ; that all sins are equal ; and many more of the same bran.
If he shall believe Cardinal Bellarmin, he shall condemn Erasmus,
as a patron of Arians ; Luther, as an enemy to the Holy Trinity,
and to the consubstantiality of the Son of God ; Melancthon and
Scheckius, as fautors of the Tritheists ; Calvin, as an advocate of
Samosatenians ; Bullinger, of Arianism ; Beza, of Nestorianism.
If he will believe our countryman Gifford, he shall think Calvin's
doctrine in nothing better, in many things worse, than the Al
coran. If he will believe J. Gualterius, a Jesuit divine, he shall
think never any heresy hath since the first noise of the gospel
arisen in the Church of God whereof the reformed part is not
guilty : here, he shall suppose to find Simon Magus, falsely pretend
ing the Church's reformation ; Cerinthus, destroying the use and
utility of baptism ; Ebion, impugning the integrity of the blessed
virgin ; in beastly licentiousness, Nicolaitans : in mutilation of
scripture, Saturnians ; in the vain jactation of scripture, Basi-
lides; in the contempt of the divine Law, Carpocrates; in con
demning of fastings, Gnostics ; in maintaining the impossibility
of keeping the law, Ptolomeus ; Secundian heretics, in allowing
uncleannesses ; Marcosian heretics, in a proud boast of perfection ;
Montanists, in dissolving the bonds of wedlock and corrupting
baptism : what should I blur too much paper with the abridg
ment of so uncharitable a discourse ? Shortly, he shall believe
that all our learned divines have done nothing but patched to
gether all those old rags of obsolete errors which they have
raked up out of the dunghills of anciently damned heretics ; and,
to make up his mouth, shall go away with an opinion of an
hundred several foul errors in John Calvin, and seventy-eight
1 Nijcpe kou p,ipvr\a' amaTiiv. Suid. [v. Nijipe.]

464 Christian Moderation [Book II •
no less heinous in Martin Luther"1. Should a stranger come
now to take up this book, which he supposes penned by a Christ
ian divine, and one therefore which should not dare to he, how
can he conceive other than that the reformed doctrine is nothing
but a chimerical monster, composed of devilish lies and hellish
heresies ?
To look nearer home : what terms and imputations some rigid
followers of Luther have, in imitation of their over blunt and pas
sionate master, cast upon their opposers, I do purposely forbear
to specify, as willing rather to lay my hand upon these scars, than
to blazon the shame of brethren.
Now as it will become every man, according to St. Jerome's
counsel, to be impatient in the suspicion of heresy, if any of the
parties accused shall be called forth and charged with these prodi
gious crimes of opinion, he is straight ready to fly in the face of the
slanderer, and calls heaven and earth to be witness of his utter
detestation of those errors which are maliciously affeigned toiiim ;
and is ready to say, as our learned Whitaker said in the same
case to Campian, Nisi omnem, &c.n "Unless thou hadst utterly
cast off all, both religion to God and reverence to men, and hadst
long since made shipwreck of thy conscience, and hadst put off
even all humanity itself, thou wouldst never suffer thyself to be
guilty of such horrible wickedness, as to upbraid such monstrous
opinions to us."
It is a true word of Gerson0, That in a pennyworth of strife
there is not a halfpenny worth of love. And we say truly, " Ill-
will never said well." God forbid that the same man should be
in the same cause accuser, witness, and judge. What would be
come of innocence where malice and power should be met ?
How short a cut is that which the spiteful author of the war
of the fifth gospel takes to convince all gainsayers ! Westphalus,
saith he, calls Calvin heretic; Calvin calls Westphalus heretic:
therefore they are both heretics. Schlusselburgius brands the
Calvinists for sacramentarian heretics; the Calvinists hrand
Schlusselburgius for an ubiquitarian heretic : therefore both are
heretics. And may not any Mahometan thus refel the whole
profession of Christianity ? Those that style themselves catholics
call the reformed heretics: the reformed call them heretics:
'" Vide et Martin. Cromerus de Falsa o Gers. de Precept. Decalogi, c. [ix.
Relig. Luther 1. i. pars n. 3,. x. Ed. 1514 ]
" Whitak. Respons. ad Campian.

Sect. X.] Christian Moderation. 465
therefore both are heretics. The Roman Christians brand the
Greek Church with heresy ; the Grecians equally censure the
Roman : therefore they are all heretics. And cannot we as easily
pay him again in his own coin ? The Turkish Mahometan calls
the Persian heretic ; the Persian calls the Turkish so : therefore
both are, in their own religion, heretics.
God forbid that a man should be ever such as an enemy would
have him seem to be ! Would we think it fair and just to be so
dealt with before the awful tribunal of heaven ? Would we have
the arch-enemy of mankind believed in all his suggestions against
our innocence ? Why should we then admit of this wrong in each
other ?
At a contentious bar, where wrangling fomenters of quarrels
are wont to aggravate all advantages, this liberty, I know not
how justly, hath been given, that they commonly frame large bills
of complaint, and suggest wrongs that were never done : but for
divines in the causes of God who pretend to plead for truth
before God and his angels, to be thus lavish in their criminations,
it is a high violation of Christian charity P and justice.
Surely, this practice is no more new than justifiable. Should
I fetch it so far as from the times of our blessed Saviour ? whose
divine perfection could not free him from the imputation of a
conjurer ; of a winebibber and glutton ; of a friend to publicans
and sinners ; of an enemy to Caesar ? Should I follow the times,
and deduce it to its proto-martyr St. Stephen ? we shall find him
loaded with the accusation of blasphemy against God and Moses,
against the Law and the Temple. After him we shall find the
chosen vessel, St. Paul, charged by Tertullus for a pestilent fellow i
and a mover of sedition. And even among the Christians them
selves, what foul charges of libertine doctrine are laid upon them
by false teachers ! As for the succeeding ages of the primitive
church, had we either leisure or will to swell up our discourse with
an abridgment of ecclesiastical history, we might easily weary
the reader with woful varieties in this kind. Who knows not the
impossible crimes that were cast upon the primitive Christians ;
of promiscuous lust, of worshipping an ass's head, and such ab
surd calumniations ?
Amongst Christians themselves, to let go all the rest, it is me
morable what quarrels there were in the synod of Ephesus, betwixt
P ob Koyifcrai rb Katt6v. I Cor. xiii. 5. 1 Aoipdv. Acts xxiv 5.
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. H ll

466 Christian Moderation. [Book II
Cyril bishop of Alexandria and John of Antioch. The churches,
subject to these eminent pastors, stuck not to strike each other with
mutual anathemas. Theodoret, something unhappily, thrusts his
sickle into the harvest of Antioch ; against whom, by the insti
gation of Euoptius, Cyril bitterly inveighs : Theodoret accuses
Cyril of Apollinarism ; Cyril accuses Theodoret of Nestorianism.
This broil drew the eastern world into parts ; so as afterwards,
when Theodoret would have entered into the synod of Chalcedon,
the Egyptian bishops and other reverend prelates cried out, " We
eject Cyril if we admit Theodoret ; the canons disclaim him ; God
opposes him." The same violence was again renewed in the
eighth action ; the bishops loudly crying out, " He is an heretic ;
he is a Nestorian ; away with the heretic :" but at the last, when
the matter was throughly scanned, and it was found that the good
bishop had subscribed both to the orthodox creeds and to Leo's
epistle, with one unanimous consent they received him in, with
this acclamation, " Theodoret is worthy of his place in the Church ;
let the Church receive her orthodox bishop."
It is worthy of immortal memory, that we find reported of
Athanasius. There was a great quarrel betwixt the eastern and
western churches about the Persons and subsistences in the Deity.
Each upbraided other with heresy. The western would profess
three Persons in the blessed Trinity, but would not endure to
hear of three subsistences ; and were thereupon, by the eastern
churches, censured for suspicion of Sabellianism. Contrarily, the
eastern would yield three subsistences ; but would not abide three
Persons, and were therefore accused by the western churches of
Arianism ! The breach was fearful, till wise and holy Athanasius
found a way to let them see they were good friends, and knew
not of it.
And if we should go about to instance in particular men, the
catalogue would be endless. How Chrysostom and Epiphanius,
Jerome and Ruffinus, blurred each other, all the world knows.
St. Austin, besides all his other wrongs, complains that sixteen
articles were slanderously imposed upon him by the Pelagians,
on purpose to draw envy upon the doctrine of divine predesti
nation. What foul and gross opinions were by adversary pens
cast upon the Waldenses and Albigenses, and our Wickliff and his
followers, is shamefully apparent in too many histories.
And still, as Satan is ever himself in these last times ; wherein,
by how much the more charity freezeth, malice burns so much the

Sect. X.] Christian Moderation. 467
more : how familiar it is even for Christian adversaries to speak
nothing of each other but slanders ! Erasmus reckons up, amongst
many false imputations cast upon him by some spiteful friars, this
for one, That he had said, all the miracles our Saviour did upon
earth were done by magic ; and that which yet Bellarmin seriously
charges him withal, he held all war whatsoever absolutely unlawful ;
a slander which himself punctually refutes1". How trivially common
it is that Luther was the son of an incubus, the disciple of the devil ;
and that he, who had been his master, proved his executioner !
that Calvin was stigmatized for a buggerer : Beza, upon occasion
of some young poems for mere trial of wit, a profligate lover of
his Andibertus ; and at last, which he lived to confute, a revolter
from his profession ! Did I list to rake in the sinks of Staphylus,
Surius, Bolseck, Gualterius, I could both weary and amaze my
reader with nasty heaps of as tedious as false criminations of this
kind. Amongst our own : how do the opposites in the five Belgic
articles cast ink in each other's faces ; while the one part upbraids
the other with Manicheism and Stoicism ; the other them again
with Pelagianism and Socinianism ! Within our own territories,
one objects Arianism, perhaps too justly on some hands, to the
opinion of parity ; another, too wildly, Antichristianism, to the
only ancient and true government of the Church.
Now, God forbid that either Church or man should be tried
and judged by his adversary! This were no other than that the
arraigned innocent should be sentenced by the executioner. And
if in a civil judicature there be required sworn and able judges,
just laws, clear evidence, select jurors, recorded proceedings ; how
much more ought this to be expected in those pleas of religion
which concern the eternal state of the soul, the safety of the
Church, and the glory of our Creator and Redeemer.
It is the rule of the apostle, that charity thinks not evil. If
therefore an ingenuous adversary shall, out of an inward self-
conviction, acquit his opposite of an unjust charge, we have reason
to take it for a granted truth, and to make our advantage of it.
"If then an Erasmus shall say, that it cannot be denied that Luther
hath intimated monitions of divers things, which it were happy for
the Christian world to have reformed, and which indeed were not
r Si quis a bellis, - qua?, jam seculis sycophantis, quasi sentiat cum iis, qui
aliquot, ob res nihili, plus quam ethnice negant ullum bellum gerendum Christia-
geruntur [gerimus], deterreat, notatur a nis. — Eras. 1. xxiii. Ep. 7. Paulo Voltzio.
H h 3

468 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
longer to be endured, as he doth to his Laurinus : if he shall say,
that many things pass current in the ancient Fathers, which in
Luther are condemned as errors, as in his Epistle to cardinal
Albertuss: if he shall say, that those things which Luther urges,
if they be moderately handled, come nearer to the vigour of
evangelical prescriptions, as he doth to his Jodocus Julius : if a
Ferus or Cassander ; if a Cusanus or Contarenus ; if a Cajetan,
or Montanus, or Cudsemius, or Franciscus a Sancta Clara, or any
other temperate adversary, shall set favourable states to our con
troversies, and give justly charitable testimonies to our personal
innocences ; we have no less cause to accept their suffrages than
their partners have to credit them. Still waters represent any
object in their bottom clearly ; those that are either troubled or
agitated, dimly and imperfectly. But as for matter of crimination,
surely an enemy's tongue is no slander. And if a cruel inquisitor
shall send a martyr to his stake ugly dressed, and painted over
with devils, a wise and charitable spectator thinks never the worse
of the man for a forced disguise ; but sees in that heretic a saint,
and in those devils beautiful angels of God.
As we may not believe an adversary in reports, so not in the
pretended consequences of opinion.
Section XI. — The seventh rule of Moderation. — Not to judge of
an adversary' s opinion by the inferences pretended to
follow upon it.
Seventhly, therefore, there cannot be a more useful rule for
our moderation in judgment than this. That we may not take that
for a man's opinion, which an adversary will say doth by necessary
inference follow upon it, but only that which himself professes to
maintain. It is that which, with worthy and moderate Bucer, the learned
bishop of Salisbury hath also intimated in his grave advice con-
s [Damnata ut hseretica in Libris the blank to remain, and it was faith-
Lutheri quas in Bernardi Augustinique fully copied into the third folio. I
Libris ut orthodoxa immo ut pia legun- have discovered the passage to which
tur.] It is a singular circumstance, that, the author alludes, in one of Erasmus's
in the first edition of this Treatise, the Epistles to Cardinal Albertus ; and have
words " Cardinal Albertus" are omitted, accordingly supplied the name. It is
and a blank space left, as though the the 477th Epistle in his Works: and
author had forgotten the title of the the passage will be found near the bot-
Epistle to which he meant to refer, and torn of col. 514. of vol. iii. of the Ley-
left a blank to be afterwards filled up den edition, 1703. — Pratt. [Book xii.
before his MS. went to the press : which Ep. 10. Lond. 1642. p. 584.]
not being done, the corrector suffered

Sect. XL] Christian Moderation. 469
cerning the Lutheran differences, and the like occurrences in the
judgment of the four learned French divines concerning the
peace with the Lutheran churches, and meet to be throughly
considered': for the force of consecutions is many times very
deceitful, and such as may easily betray our discourse.
There are, indeed, such consequences as are plainly necessary,
and those which, in their first sight, carry in them no less certainty
than the principles from which they were immediately derived.
Of this nature are they which are reciprocally deduced from their
certain and intrinsecal causes to their effects ; such as, " The sun
is risen ; it is therefore day :" " He is God ; therefore omnipotent,
omniscient." There are others which may perhaps seem to us no less neces
sary, as following upon some premises by an undoubted force of
reason : which yet another thinks he can, by some cleanly dis
tinction, commodiously evade, and yet hold that ground which we
laid for that ratiocination ; such is that of Gualterius the Jesuit :
" Theodore Beza denies that the body of Christ can be substantially
in many places at once ; therefore he denies God's omnipotence :"
" The protestant ascribes to God more than a mere permission of
evil ; therefore he makes him the author of sin." Contrarily, no
mean one of ours infers a papist makes Christ a creature ; there
fore he is an Arian : makes Christ of meal ; therefore not of the
blessed Virgin; therefore an Apollinarist : consequences, which
the disputant thinks to make good; but the accused, on either
part, detests.
Thus, the honest and ingenuous Christian is drawn from a
commendable search of necessary truths into a wild chace of en
vious inferences. And now tbe quarrel is indeed fallen off from
divinity, and is removed to tbe schools of logic, natural philo
sophy, metaphysics : and not he that hath the most truth must
carry it, but he that can bring the most skilful sophistry.
What is it that distracts the reformed ohurches of Christendom
but this injurious conceit of inconsequent inferences ? " The hu
manity of Christ," saith one part, " is omnipresent :" " therefore,"
saith the other, "no humanity at all, since this is only proper
to the Deity." " The ubiquity of Christ's human nature is deneid,"
saith the other : " therefore the personal union is destroyed."
' There is an obscurity in this pas- assistance.— Peatt. [I would propose to
sage which I know not how to remove ; read " occurs" for " occurrences."]
nor do the former editions afford any

470 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
Away with these rigid illations, when we have to do with
brethren. Each holdeth his own : both disclaim the inferences ;
and, in their sense, may. For as learned Buceru gravely: " It
is our part to see, not what doth of itself follow upon any opinion ;
but what follows in the conscience of those who hold that opinion,
which we think contrary to a fundamental article." Were this
rule held, how happy were the Church ! how certain our peace !
When we have done our hest, there will be errors enow in the
Church : we need not to make them more.
This was not the fashion in the plaindealing world of the first
ages of Christianity. No heresy was then feoffed upon any man,
but upon open and acknowledged conviction; and if he cleared
himself from the main crimination, he was pronounced innocent.
Look into the records of times. The contagion of Arius, be
ginning at the obscure church of Baucalis, soon reached to Alex
andria ; and there instantly infected seven hundred virgins, twelve
deacons, seven priests ; and offered to diffuse itself into the very
epscopal throne. At last, by Meletius's relation, the archbishop
Alexander is made acquainted with the rumour of that heresy.
He presently sends for Arius, and charges him with the crime.
That impudent mouth sticks not to confess his wicked error ; but
there openly casts up the poison of his damnable doctrine before
his governor. The holy bishop no less openly reproves him ;
urges and aggravates the sacrilegious impiety of his opinion ; and
finding him to second his error with contumacies, expels him
from his church ; follows him, as was meet, with seventy letters
of caution to other churches. Yet still the mischief spreads. The
godly emperor Constantine is informed of the danger : he calls a
synod : Arius, with his all wicked pamphlets, is there cried down,
and condemned to banishment. I do not find those holy Fathers
nibbling at consequences, strained out of his Thalia, or some other
of his abominable papers ; but charging him with the right-down
positions of heresy : such as these blasphemies concerning Christ ;
" Time was, when he was not :" " He was made of things that
were not :" " He was not begotten of the substance of the Father ;
in time, not from eternity ; not true God of God, but created of
nothing." Here were no tricks of inferences, no quirks of so
phisms, no violent deduction of unyielded sequels : the heresy
proclaimed itself, and was accordingly sentenced.
u Citat. a D. Davenant Sent, de Pace Procur.

Sect. XL] Christian Moderation. 471
Such were the proceedings with the Apollinarists in the third
council of Rome ; and in the first general council of Constanti
nople, with the Macedonians ; and where not, in the cases of
heresy ?
And if for all the rest we would see a model of the old theolo
gical simplicity in the censures of this nature, we need but to cast
our eye upon that profession of faith and anathematism which
Damasus* ingenuously wrote to Paulinus; whether bishop of
Thessalonica, as Theodoret would have it, or, as others, of An
tioch : " We pronounce anathema," saith he, " to those who do
not with full liberty proclaim the Holy Ghost to be of one power
and substance with the Father and the Son. We pronounce
anathema to them who follow the error of Sabellius ; saying, that
the Father is one and the same Person with the Son. We pro
nounce anathema to Arius and Eunomius; who, with a like im
piety, but in a form of words unlike, affirm the Son and the Holy
Spirit to be creatures. We pronounce anathema to the Macedo
nians ; who, coming from the stock of Arius, have not varied
from his impiety, but from his name. We pronounce anathema
to Photinus ; who, renewing the heresy of Ebion, confesses our
Lord Jesus Christ made only of the Virgin Mary. We pronounce
anathema to those that maintain two Sons; one, before all
worlds ; the other, after the assuming of flesh from the Virgin."
Thus he. Is there any man here condemned for an heretic, but
he, who directly affirms, confesses, maintains opinions truly
damnable ?
Neither indeed is it just or equal that a man should by the
malice of an enemy be made guilty of those crimes which himself
abhors. What I will own is mine ; what is cast upon me is my
adversary's : and if I be by deductions fetched into such error,
the fault is not in my faith, but in my logic : my brain may err ;
my heart doth not.
Away then ye cruel tortors of opinions, dilators of errors, de
lators of your brethren, incendiaries of the Church, haters of
peace : away with this unjust violence. Let no man bear more
than his own burden. Press an erring brother, if ye please, in
way of argument, with such odious consectaries as may make
him weary of his opinion ; but hate to charge him with it as his
own: frame not imaginary monsters of error with whom you
' Bin. Concil. p.i. Rom. 3. sub Damaso, [Ed. Col. Agr. 1606. torn. i. p. 507.]

472 Christian Moderation. [Book IL
may contend. He that makes any man worse than he is, makes
himself worse than he.
Section XII.— The eighth rule of Moderation. — To keep opinions
within their own bounds ; not imputing private men's
conceits to whole Churches.
Eighthly, it will be requisite to a peaceable moderation, that
we should give to every opinion his own due extent ; not casting
private men's conceits upon pubhc churches ; not fathering single
fancies upon a community y.
All men cannot accord in the same thoughts. There was never
any church under heaven in which there was not some Ahimaaz
that would run alone. In all waters lightly there are some sorts
of fish that love to swim against the stream.
There is no reason that the blame of one or few should be dif
fused unto all.
Ifa pope John the XXIInd shall maintain that the souls of the
blessed shall sleep till the resurrection; if a Dominicus a Soto
shall hold that the whole Christian faith shall be extinguished in
the persecutions of Antichrist, shall we impute these opinions to
the see or Church ? If an Alphonsus a Castro shall hold heretics
and apostates, after they are once baptized, to be true members
of the catholic Church ; or a Catharinus or Vasquez shall teach
the commandment, that forbids worshipping of images, to be
merely temporary : if a Durant shall revive Pelagianism, in de
nying that there is any need of the divine aid, either of general
or special concourse in human actions : if a Richardus Armacha-
nus shall second the Novatians, in teaching that there is no
pardon to be obtained by the penitent for some heinous sins : if
an Occham shall teach, that the visible signs are not of the es
sence of a sacrament : or a Johannes Parisiensis, or Cornelius a
Lapide, little differing from the condemned error of Rupertus
Tuitiensis, shall teach, that the sacramental bread is hypostati-
cally assumed by the Word : is there any so unjust arbiter of
things, as to upbraid these paradoxes to the Roman Church, who
professeth their dislike ?
Thus, if a Knox, or Buchanan, or Goodman, shall broach ex
orbitant and dangerous opinions concerning the successions and
rights of kings, and lawless power of subjects ; why should this
y " [Neque enim] non debet plurimo- cunctorum." — Greg. Moral. I.26. 28. [Ed.
rum malum tendere in testimationem Rom. 15S9 torn. ii. p. 904.]

Sect. XII.] Christian Moderation. 473
be laid in our dish, more than a Suarez or Mariana in theirs ? If
a Flacius Illyricus shall uphold a singular error, concerning
grace and original sin ; if some ill-advised followers of Zuinglius
shall hold the sacramental elements to be only bare signs, serving
merely for memory and representation ; if some divines of ours
shall defend the rigid opinions concerning predestination ; if some
fantastical heads shall cry down all decent ceremonies, and all set
forms of devotion ; why should the Church suffer double in those
things which it bewails ? Surely, as the Church is a collective
body, so it hath a tongue of her own, speaking by the common
voice of her synods ; in her public Confessions, Articles, Consti
tutions, Catechisms, Liturgies. What she says in these must pass
for her own ; but if any single person shall take upon him un
authorized to be the mouth of the Church, his insolence is justly
censurable ; and if an adversary shall charge that private opinion
upon the Church, he shall be intolerably injurious.
Indeed, as it is the best harmony where no part or instrument
is heard alone, but a sweet composition and equal mixture of all :
so is it the best state of the Church where no dissenting voice is
heard above or besides his fellows, but all agree in one common
sound of wholesome doctrine.
But such as man's natural self-love is, this is more fit to be
expected in a Platonical speculation than in a true reality of
existence ; for while every man is apt to have a good conceit of
his own deeper insight, and thinks the praise and use of his
knowledge lost unless he impart it ; it cometh to pass, that not
containing themselves within their own privacies, they vent their
thoughts to the world ; and hold it a great glory to be the authors
of some more than common piece of skill.
And to say truth, the freedom and ease of the press hath much
advanced this itching and disturbing humour of men. While
only the pen was employed, books were rare ; neither was it so
easy for a man to know another's opinion, or to diffuse his own :
now, one only day is enough to fill the world with a pamphlet,
and suddenly to scatter whatsoever conceit, beyond all possibility
of revocation.So much the more need there is for those that sit at the helm,
whether of Church or State, to carry a vigilant eye and hard hand
over these common telltales of the world ; and so to restrain
them, if it were possible, that nothing might pass their stamp

474 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
which should be prejudicial to the common peace, or varying
from the received judgment ofthe Church z.
But, if this task be little less than impossible, since by this
means every man may have ten thousand several tongues at
pleasure ; how much more happy were it, that the sons of the
Church could obtain of themselves so much good nature and sub
missive reverence, as to speak none but their mother's tongue !
The form of tongues in the first descent of the Holy Ghost
was fiery and cloven ; and that was the fittest for the state of the
first plantation of the gospel, intimating that fervour and variety
which was then both given and requisite : now, in the enlarged
and settled estate of his evangelical Church, the same Spirit
descends and dwells in tongues, cool and undivided : Cor unum,
via una ; One heart, one way ; was the motto of the prophet,
when he foretells the future coalition of God's people : and One
mind, one mouth, was the apostle's to his Romans ; Rom. xv. 6 ;
2 Cor. xiii. 11. Let us walk by the same rule ; let us mind the
same thing ; is his charge to his Philippians, ch. iii. 16.
But, if any wrangler affect to be singular, and will needs have
a mind of his own, let him stand but for what he is ; let him go
only for a single figure ; let him not, by a misprision, take up the
place of thousands.
Section XIII. — The ninth rule of Moderation. — The actions and
manners of men must not regulate our judgments
concerning the cause.
Ninthly, neither doth it a little conduce to moderation to know,
that the facts and manners of men may not be drawn to the
prejudice of the cause ; for howsoever it commonly holds, that
impious opinions and loose life go still together a; yet it is no trust
ing to this rule, as if it did not admit of exceptions.
There have been those whose errors have been foul, and yet
their conversation faultless. I remember what Bernard said of
Peter Abailardusb, that he was "John without and Herod with
in ;" and of Arnoldus0 of Brixia, " Would God his doctrine were
so sound as his life is strict;" and elsewhere d, "Whose conversa-
1 This is seasonably and happily done Non bene vivit, qui non recte credit.
by an order of the Star-Chamber lately Calixtus. Benedict. Episc.
made. [July 11,1637.] b Bernard. Epist. 193.
a Sententia impia, vita luxuriosa. " Epist. 195. d Epist. 196.

Sect. XIII.] Christian Moderation. 475
tion is honey, his opinion poison ; whose head is a dove's, his
tail a scorpion's." Epiphanius, when he speaks of the heretic
Hierax, (an heretic with a witness, who denied the resurrection of
the flesh, which he granted to the soul,) could saye, " He was a
man truly admirable for his exercise in piety, and such an one as,
besides the governance of his own, could draw other men's souls
to the practice of godliness." And Augustin, speaking some
where of Pelagius and some others of his sect, I remember,
acknowledgeth, that the carriage of their life was fair and un
blamable. And those that are the bitterest enemies to the
Waldenses, or poor men of Lyons, give great testimony to the
integrity and inoffensiveness of their conversation.
So, on the contrary, there are many whose religion is sound,
but their life impure. As Cassar said of old, " We have enough
of these birds at home." Such as, like ants, follow the track of
their fellows to their common hillock ; going on those right ways
of opinion whereinto example and education have put them, yet
staining their profession by lewd behaviour. I have readf, that a
rich Jew being asked why he turned Christian, laid the cause
upon the virtue of our faith ; and being asked how he did so well
know the virtue of such faith, " Because," said he, " the nation of
Christians could not possibly hold out so long, by virtue of their
works, for they are stark naught ; therefore it must needs be by
the power of their faith." Certainly it were woe with us, if lives
should decide the truth of religion betwixt us and unbelievers,
betwixt us and our ignorant forefathers. These are not there
fore fit umpires betwixt Christians competitioning for the truth.
The Jew was the sounder for religion, yet the Samaritan was
more charitable than either the Levite or priest. It were strange
if in the corruptest church there were not some conscionable ; and
no less if in the holiest there be not some lawless and inordinate.
There is no pomegranate wherein there is not some grains rotten?.
The sanctity of some few cannot bolster out falsehood in the
common belief; neither can the disorder of orthodox believers
disparage that soundness of doctrine which their life belies. And
if our Saviour give us this rule for discerning of false prophets,
By their fruits you shall know them, Matt. vii. 15 — 20, doubtless,
that fruit was intended chiefly for their doctrine. Their lives
" Epiphan. Haeres. 67.
1 Bromiard. V. Fides. [X. Causam conversionis esse virtutem fidei nostras, &c]
s Nullum malum punicum, in quo non aliquod granum supputre.

476 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
were fair, their carriage innocent, for they came in sheep's clothing.
What was that other than honest simplicity? Yet their fruits
were evil. But withal, as a good and holy life is, as heh said
well, a good commentary to the sacred volume of God ; so their
outbreaking iniquities were a good commentary upon their vi
cious doctrines : both ways were their fruits evil. And if mere
outward carriage should be the sole rule of our trial, nothing
could be more uncertain than our determination. How many
dunghills have we seen, which, while they have been covered
with snow, could not be discerned from the best gardens ! how
many sour crabs, which for beauty have surpassed the best fruit
in our orchard ! As in matter of reason experience tells us that
some falsehoods are more probable than some truths ; so is it also
in matter of practice — no face seems so purely fair as the painted.
Truth of doctrine is the test whither we must bring our profes
sion for matter of trial ; and the sacred oracles of God are the
test whereby we must try the truth of doctrine.
Section XIV. — The tenth rule of Moderation. — That we must
draw as near as we safely may to Christian adversaries,
in cases of lesser differences.
It will perhaps seem a paradox to some, which I must lay
down for a tenth rule of moderation, viz. that we must endeavour
to draw as near as we may to Christian adversaries in the dif
ferences of religion ; for some men, whose zeal carries them be
yond knowledge, are all for extremities ; and think there can
never be distance enough betwixt themselves and those that
oppose them in the controversies of doctrine or discipline.
For the righting of our conceits in this point, we shall need a
double distinction : one, of the persons ; the other, of the limits of
our approach or remoteness.
Of the persons first : for there are hostes; and there are
inimici. The former are they who profess open hostility to the whole
cause of Christianity ; as Jews and Turks : the latter are adver
saries within the bosom of the Church ; such as, according with us
in the main essential truths, maintain stiff differences in matters
of great consequence both in the judgment and practice of re
ligion. To the first of these, we do justly profess public and universal
11 Salmeron. 1. Prolegom.

Sect. XIV.] Christian Moderation. 477
defiance ; hating all communion with them, save that of civil com
merce, which is not unlawful with the most savage infidels.
And in this name do we deservedly cry down those favours
which these avowed enemies of Christ receive at Rome, even
from the hands of him who pretends to succeed the most fervent
apostle, that once said, Lord, thou knowest I love thee. Besides
the benefit of a favourable entertainment, we know' the pope, on
his coronation-day, vouchsafes to receive a present from their
hands ; no less than that holy book of God, which their cursed
impiety profaneth, and which, in requital, condemneth their im
piety; while those that profess the same creed more sincerely
than himself are rigorously expelled k and cruelly martyred.
Our stomach doth not so far exceed our charity, but we can
pray for those miscreant Jews. They, once for all, cursed them
selves; His blood, be upon us, and our children: we are so
merciful to them, that we can bless them ; in praying1 that his
blood may be upon them for their redemption.
And as we can pray for their conversion, so we cannot but
commend the order which is held in some parts of Italy, that, by
the care of the ordinary, sermons are made on their sabbaths, in
those places where the Jews are suffered to dwell, for their con
viction1"1; but while we wish well to their souls, we hate their
society. I hke well that piece of just prohibition", that Christian wo
men should not be nurses to the children of Jews in their houses ;
but I cannot brook the liberty following, that, out of their houses,
by license from the ordinary, they may. My reason is but just ;
because their proud detestation goes so high, as to an absolute
forbiddance of any office of respect from theirs to us, and yet
allows the same from ours to them. So, by their law", a Jewish
woman may not be either midwife or nurse to one of ours ; yet
giving way to our women to do these services to theirs.
Not to speak of the same fashion of garmentsP, which however
forbidden by the law, they have now learned, for their own ad
vantage, to dispense with; what a curiosity of hatred it is, thati,
1 Lib. Sacrar. Ceremon. m Gavant. Enchirid. tit. Concio.
b In locis Italise et adjacentium insu- n Gavant. ex Silvio. V. Hebr. ex
larum, nullus haereticus, quovis prse- Provinc. Mediol.
textu, domicilium contrahere, babitare, ° Munster. Praeeept. Mosaica negat.
aut morari possit. — Greg. xv. anno 1622. P Ibid. Munst.
1 Pro Judasis est orare, sed non flee- 1 Ib. MunBt.
tendo genua. — Greg. Fer. 6. postPalmas.

478 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
if one of us Gentiles should make a Jew's fire on their sabbath, it
is not lawful for them to sit by it !
And why should we be less averse from that odious genera
tion? They have done violence to the Lord of life, our blessed
Redeemer ; what have we done unto them ? Blood lies still upon
them ; nothing upon us, but undue mercy.
But as to the latter kind of adversaries, we must be advised to
better terms. If any of them who call themselves Christians
have gone so far as directly and wilfully to raze the foundation
of our most holy faith; and, being self-condemned r, through the
clear evidence of truth, shall rebelliously persist in his heresy ;
into the secret of such men let not my soul come ; my glory, be
not thou joined to their assembly, Gen. xlix. 6. I know no reason
to make more of such a one than of a Jew or Turk in a Christ
ian's skin.
I cannot blame that holy man, who durst not endure to be in
the bath with such a monster ; or those of Samosatas, who, in
imitation of this fact of St. John, let forth all the water of that
public bath, wherein Eunomius had washed, and caused new to
be put therein.
I cannot blame Theodosius, a bishop of Phrygia, however So
crates* pleaseth to censure him, that he drove the Macedonian
heretics, not out of the city only, but out of the country too.
I cannot blame Gratianusu the emperor, that he interdicted
all assemblies to the Manichees, Photinians, Eunomians ; and if
he had extended his ban against those other forenamed heretics
it had been yet better for the Church". Jerome's word is a good
one : " It is not cruelty that we thus do for God's cause, but
piety." But if there be any who, with full consent, embrace all the
articles of Christian belief, and yet err not contumaciously in
some such dangerous consequences as do in mine understanding,
though not their own, threaten ruin to the foundation by them
yielded ; as I dare not exclude them from the Church of God, so
I dare not profess to abhor their communion. God forbid we
should shut up Christian brotherhood in so narrow a compass as
to bar all misbelievers of this kind out of the family of God !
r AvTOKardxpiTos. " Istud aggressus non de more Catho-
8 Theod. lib. iv. u. 15. et Cassiod. 1. licse Eeclesiae."
vii. c. 16. « Sozom. 1. vii. c. 1.
1 [Kal tovto iiroUi, ovk eluidbs SitltKeiv x Sozom. ibid. c. 2 .
T-ij *OpQoS61;(i> iicK\r}atq.'\ Socrat. 1. vii. u. 3.

Sect. XIV.] Christian Moderation. 479
Do but turn over that charitable and irrefragable discourse of
" Christianographyy." Let your eyes but walk over those ample
territories and large regions, which in most parts of the habitable
world, but especially in Europe, Africa, and Asia, profess the
blessed name of God, our Redeemer, and look to be saved by
his blood; and then ask your heart, if you dare entertain so
uncharitable a thought, as to exclude so many millions of
weak, but true believers, out of the Church below, or out of
heaven above. You shall there see Grecians, Russians, Geor
gians, Armenians, Jacobites, Abassines, and many other sects,
serving the same God, acknowledging the same scriptures, be
lieving in the same Saviour, professing the same faith in all fun
damental points, aspiring to the same heaven; and like bees,
though flying several ways, and working upon several meadows or
gardens, yet in the evening meeting together in the same hive.
Now, if I hved in the community of any of these divers sects
of Christians, I should hold it my duty to comply with them in
all not unlawful things : and if any of them should live in the
community of our Church, I should labour by all good means to
reclaim him from his erroneous opinion or superstitious practice ;
and when I had wrought upon him my utmost, rather than let go
my hopes and interest in him, I would go as far to meet him,
without any angariation save that of charity, as the line of a
good conscience would permit me : herein following the sure pat
tern of our blessed apostle, whose profession it is, Though I be
free from all men, yet have I made myself servant unto all ;
that I might gain the more : unto the Jews I became as a Jew,
that I might gain the Jews; and to them under the law, as
under the law, that I might gain them that are under the law ;
to them that are without law, as without law, (being not with
out law to God, but under the law to Christ,) that I might gain
them that are without law. To the weak, I became weak, that
I might gain the weak : I am made all things to all men, that
I might by all means save some, t Cor ix. 19—22.
I do much fear the Church of Rome hath a hard answer to
make one day in this particular ; who imperiously and unjustly
challenging unto itself the title of the Church Catholic shutteth all
other Christian professions out of doors ; refusing all communion
with them ; and so neglecting them, as if they had no souls, or
those souls cost nothing.
y Christianography t by Ephraim Pagitt. — Peatt.

480 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
Amongst the rest I shall give but two instances :
The great prince of the Abassine Christians2, having heard of
the fame of the European churches, sends some of his nation, of
whora he had a great opinion, to Rome, to be informed of the
substance and rites of religion there professed. Zago Zaba was
one of the number. They with great labour and hazard arrived
there ; made known their great errand ; but were so far slighted,
that they were not so much as admitted to Christian society ;
and, after many years' vain hope, were turned home disregard-
fully, not much wiser than they came ; without any other news,
save of the scorn and insolence of those who should have in
structed them.
A carriage much suitable to that which they still bear to the
Greek church ; a church, which as for extent it may compare
with theirs, so for purity of doctrine, I dare say, (if that be her
voice, which her last patriarch, Cyril of Constantinople, hath ac
quainted the world withal, as I was also confidently assured by
the late learned bishop of Saribaris,) as far exceeding the Roman
church, as the Roman doth the Russian or Ethiopic, which it
most contemneth. Let any the most curious eye travel over
that learned confession of faith a, which, after all devices and illu
sions, is proved sufficiently to be the genuine act of that worthy
patriarch, and by him published in the name of the whole Greek
church; and let bim tell me what one blemish or mole he can
find in that fair body; save only that one clause concerning the
third Person of the blessed Trinity, "The holy Spirit proceed
ing from the Father by the Son0 ;" wherein there can be no
danger, while he adds, in the next words, " Being of the same
substance with the Father and the Sonc ;" and concludes, "These
three Persons in one essence we call the most holy Trinity ; ever
to be blessed, glorified, and adored, of every creature d." This
error of his Greek church, as it is now minced, is rather a pro
blem of scholastical divinity, than a heresy in the Christian faith.
In all the rest shew me any the most able and sincere divine in
the whole Christian world, that can make a more clear and abso-
z Dam. a Goes. Histr. Ethiop. in his late convictive Answer to A. C.
a KvplWou iraTp. 'AvaToXiKij dpoKoyia. sect. ix. p. 24, 25, 26. [Archbishop
b Kvpi\. Ketp. «. Tlvevpa "Ayiov itc tov Laud's Conference with Fisher, who as-
Uarpbs Si' Tlov irpotpx&ptvov. sumed the initials A. C] And largely
<-• IlaTp! Kal Tlai bpooiaiov. discussed by the archbishop of Spalat.
d See this question shortly but fully De Repub. Eccles. 1. vii. c. 10. num. i
handled by my L.Grace of Canterbury, 119. ad 187.

Sect. XIV.] Christian Moderation. 481
lute declaration of his faith, than that Greek Church hath done
by the hand of her worthy and renowned prelate : yet how un
charitably is she barred out of doors by her unkind sister of
Rome ! how unjustly branded with heresy ! insomuch as it is ab
solutely forbidden to the Grecian priests to celebrate their masses
and divine services in the Roman fashione: neither may the Ro
mans officiate in the Grecian manner under the pain of perpetual
suspension : and if a woman of the Latin Church be given in mar
riage to a Greek, she may not be suffered to live after the Gre
cian fashionf: a solecism, much like to that of the Russian
churches, who admit none to their communion, be he never so
good a Christian, if he do not submit himself to their matricula
tion by a new baptism.
Sure, those Christians that thus carry themselves towards their
dear brethren, dearer perhaps to God than they, have either no
bowels or no brains; and shall once find, by the difference of
the smart, whether ignorance or hardheartedness were guilty of
this injurious measure.
Next to the persons, the hmits of this approach or remoteness
are considerable, which must be proportioned according to the
condition of them with whom we have to deal.
If thev be professed enemies to the Christian name, Beware qf
dogs, beware ofthe concision, saith the apostle of the Gentiles,
Philipp. iii. %. Justly must we spit at these blasphemers, ivho say
they are Jews and are not, but are the synagogue qf Satan,
Rev. ii. 9.
If they be coloured friends, but true heretics ; such as do
destroy, directly and pertinaciously, the foundation of Christian
religion; the apostle's charge is express, Haireticum hominem
devita ; A man that is an heretick after the first and second ad
monition avoid and reject, Tit. iii. 10 : and such an one as he
may be, that adds blasphemy to heresy, it might be no real mis
taking, though a verbal, of that wise and learned pontifician, who,
misreading the Vulgate, made two words of one, and turned the
verb into a noun, de vita, supple, tolle; Put an heretic to death ;
a practice so rife in tbe Roman Church against those saints who
in the way which they call heresy worship the Lord God of
their fathers, (Acts xxiv. 14,) believing all things which are
written in the Law, in the Prophets, in the Apostles, that all the
e No Graeci Latine more, &c. — Ex Pio V. anno 1 566. Gavant.
' Gavant. ex Congr. Episc. 20. Feb. 1596.
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. I i

482 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
world takes notice of it ; seeming, with the rapt evangelist, to
hear the souls from under the altar crying aloud, How long, Lord,
holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood, on
them that diuell upon the earth? Rev. vi. 9, 10.
Surely, were we such as their uncharitable misconstruction
would make us, their cruelty were not excusable before God or
men : but now, as our innocence shall aggravate their condemna
tion before the just tribunal in heaven ; so our example shall
condemn them, in the judgment of all impartial arbiters, here on
earth : for what client of Rome was ever sentenced to death by
the reformed Church merely for matter of religion ? What are
we other to them than they are to us ? The cause is mutually
the same ; only our charity is more, our cruelty less. Neither
is this any small testimony of our sincere innocence.
It is a good rule of St. Chrysostom, if we would know a wolf
from a sheep — since their clothing, as they use the matter, will
not difference them — look to their fangs : if those he bloody, their
kind is enough bewrayed ; for who ever saw the lips of a sheep
besmeared with blood ? It is possible to see a Campian at
Tyburn, or a Garnet's head upon a pole. Treasonable practices,
not mere religion, are guilty of these executions.
But, however our Church is thus favourable, in the case of
those heresies which are either simple, or secondary, and conse
quential ; yet, in the cases of heretical blasphemy, her holy zeal
hath not feared to shed blood : witness the flames of Ket and
Legat, and some other Arians in our memory : and the zealous
prosecution of that Spanish Cistercian, whom we heard and saw,
not long since, belching out his blasphemous contumelies against
the Son of God ; who, after he was given over to the secular
power for execution, was, by the Spanish ambassador, master
Gondomar, carried back into Spain by leave from king James, of
blessed memory : in which kind also Master Calvin did well
approve himself to God's Church in bringing Servetus to the
stake at Geneva.
As for those which are heretics only by consequence and interpre
tation, heedlessly undermining that foundation which they would
pretend to establish, as we may not, in regard of their opinions
in themselves, utterly blot them out of the catalogue of brethren ;
so we must heartily endeavour all good means for their reclama
tion, strive to convince their errors, labour with God for them in
our prayers, try to win them with all loving offices : neither need

Sect. XIV.] Christian Moderation. 483
we doubt to join with them in holy duties until their obduredness
and wilful pertinacy shall have made them uncapable of all good
counsel, and have drawn them to a turbulent opposition of the
truth : for, as it is in actual offences, that not our sin, but our
unrepentance damns us ; so it is in these matters of opinion ; not
the error, but the obstinacy, incurs a just condemnation. So long,
therefore, as there is hope of reformation, we may, we must
comply with this kind of erring Christians : but not without
good cautions.
First, that it be only in things good or indifferent.
Secondly, that it be with a true desire to win them to the
truth. Thirdly, that we find ourselves so throughly grounded, as
that there be no danger of our infection : for we have known it
fall out with some, as with that noble Grecian of whom Xenophon
speaks, who, while he would be offering to stay a Barbarian from
casting himself down from the rock, was drawn down with him
for company from that precipice. St. Austin professes, that this
was one thing that hardened him in his old Manicheism ; that he
found himself victorious in his disputations with weak adversaries.
Such men, instead of convincing, yield ; and make themselves mi
serable, and their opposites foolishly proud and misconfident.
Fourthly, that we do not so far condescend to complying with
them, as, for their sakes, to betray the least parcel of divine
truth. If they be our friends, it must be only, usque ad aras.
There we must leave them. That which we must be content to
purchase with our blood we may not forego for favour, even of
the dearest.
Fifthly, that we do not so far yield to them, as to humour them
in their error ; as to obfirm them in evil ; as to scandalize
others. And, lastly, if we find them utterly incorrigible, that we take
off our hand, and leave them unto just censure.
As for differences of an inferior nature ; if but De venis capil-
laribus, et minutioribus theologicarum qucestionum spinetis, as
Staphylus" would have theirs; or if of matters ritual, and such
as concern rather the decoration than the health of religion ; it
is fit they should be valued accordingly. Neither peace nor
friendship should be crazed for these, in themselves considered.
But, if it fall out, through the peevishness and self-conceit of
* Staphyl. Defens. contra Illyricum. I 2

484 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
some cross dispositions, that even those things which are in their
nature indifferent (after the lawful command of authority) are
blazoned for sinful and heinous, and are made an occasion of the
breach of the common peace, certainly, it may prove, that some
schism, even for trivial matters, may be found no less pernicious
than some heresy. If my coat be rent in pieces, it is all one to
me whether it be done by a brier or a nail, or by a knife. If
my vessel sink, it is all one whether it were with a shot or a
leak. The less the matter is, the greater is the disobedience, and
the disturbance so much the more sinful. No man can be so
foolish as to think the value of the apple was that which cast
away mankind ; but the violation of a divine interdiction.
It is fit therefore, that men should learn to submit themselves
to every ordinance qf man for the Lord's sake, i Pet. ii. 13 : but
if they shall be wilfully refractory, they must be put in mind
that Korah's mutiny was more fearfully revenged than the most
grievous idolatry.
Section XV. — The eleventh rule of Moderation. — To refrain
from all railing terms and spiteful provocations in
differences of religion.
It shall be our eleventh rule for Moderation, that we refrain
from all railing terms and spiteful provocations of each other in
the differences of religion : a charge too requisite for these times :
wherein it is rare to find any writer whose ink is not tempered
with gall and vinegar, any speaker whose mouth is not a quiver
of sharp and bitter words, Ps. Ixiv. 3.
It is here, as it is in that rule of law : " The breach of peace is
begun by menacing, increased by menacing, but finished by this
battery of the tongue." Wherein we are like those Egyptians, of
whom the historian" speaks, who, having begun their devotion
with a fast, while the sacrifice was burning fell^ upon each other
with blows; which having liberally dealt on all hands, at last
they sat down to their feast. Thus do we : after professions of
an holy zeal, we do mercilessly wound each other with reproaches;
and then sit down, and enjoy the contentment of our supposed
victory1. Every provocation sets us on; and then, as it useth to
be with scolds, every bitter word heightens the quarrel. Men do,
* Hospin. de Festis Ethnic. Ex utraque parte sunt, qui pugnare
cupiant. Cic. Tyroni suo Epist. 1. [xvi. c. 1 1.] b"«"=

Sect. XV.] Christian Moderation. 485
as we used to say of vipers when they are whipt, spit out all
their poison.
These uncharitable expressions, what can they bewray, but a
distempered heart, from which they proceed ; as the smoke and
sparks flying up show the house to be on fire, or as a corrupt spittle
shows exulcerate lungsk. By this means it falls out, that the
truth of the cause is neglected, while men are taken up with an
idle, yet busy prosecution of words: like as in thrashing, the straw
flies about our ears, but the corn is hid. And it hath been an
old observation, that when a man falls to personal railing, it
argues him drawn utterly dry of matter, and despairing of any
further defence; as we see and find, that the dog, which run
ning back falls to bawling and barking, hath done fighting any
more. I have both heard and read1, that this practice is not rare
amongst the Jews, to brawl in their public synagogues, and to
bang each other with their holy candlesticks and censers ; inso
much that this scandal hath endangered the setting off some of
theirs to Mahometanism. And I would to God it were only
proper unto them, and not incident unto too many of those who
profess to be of the number of them to whom the Prince of
Peace said, My peace I leave with you.
It is the caveat which the blessed apostle gives to his Galatians,
and in them to us; If ye bite and devour one another, take heed
ye be not consumed one qf another, Gal. v. 15. Lo here it is the
tongue that bites ; and so bites, as that, after the fashion of a
mad dog's teeth, both rage and death follows. And if any man
think it a praise, with the Lacedaemonian in Plutarch, to bite
like a lion, let him take that glory to himself; and be as he
would seem, like a lion that is greedy of his prey, and as a
young lion, that lurketh in secret places, Psalm xvii. 12: but
withal let him expect that just doom of the God of peace, Thou
shalt tread upon the lion and adder : the young lion and the
dragon shalt thou trample under feet. Psalm xci. 13. Certainly,
it is in vain for us to expect any other measure from the exaspe
rated and unruly minds of hostile brethren, whose hatred is com
monly so much greater, as their interest is more. They, whose
k Erasmus taxat Hilarium, quod diabolos, blasphemos, Satanas, pestes,
AriumappellatSatanametAntichristum. antichristos eos compellans.]
Prcefat. ad Hilar. [Quanta stomacho 1 Mr. Blunt's Voyage to the Levant.
scevit in Arianos indentidem impios, [Lond 1636. p.122.]

486 Christian Moderation. [Book IL
fires would not meet after death, are apt in life to consume one
another m."
This is the stale and known machination of him whose true
title is, The accuser of the brethren. That old dragon, when he
saw the woman flying to the wilderness to avoid his rage, what
doth he ? he casts out of his mouth water as a flood after the
woman, that he might cause her to be carried away of the flood,
Rev. xii. 15. What are these waters, which he casts out of his
mouth, but slanderous accusations, lyings, detractions, cruel per
secutions of the tongue ? And shall we, [that profess the dear
name of one common Saviour, so far second the great enemy of
mankind, as to derive some cursed channels from those hellish
floods of his, for the drenching of the flourishing valleys of God's
Church ? Shall we rather imitate him than the blessed archangel
of God, who, contending with the devil, and disputing about the
body of Moses, durst not bring against him'a railing accusation,
but said, The Lord rebuke thee ? Jude 9. Nay, shall we dare to
do that to brethren which the angel durst not do to the devil ?
When we hear and see fearful thundering and lightning and
tempest, we are commonly wont to say, that ill spirits are abroad ;
neither doubt I, but that many times, as well as in Job's case,
God permits them to raise these dreadful blusterings in the air :
right so, when we see these flashes, and hear these hideous noises
of contention in God's Church, we have reason to think that there
is an hand of Satan in their raising and continuance. For as for
God, we know his courses are otherwise. When it pleased him
to make his presence known to Elijah, first, there passed a great
and strong wind, which rent the mountains, and brake the rocks
in pieces ; but the Lord was not in the wind : after that wind
came an earthquake ; but the Lord was not in the earthquake :
after the earthquake a fire ; but the Lord was not in the fire :
but after the fire came a still small voice: and therein was the
Almighty pleased to express himself, 1 Kings xix. 11, 12. Lo,
as St. Ambrose" observes well, the devil is for noise, Christ for
silence. He that is the lion of the tribe of Judah, delights in
the style of the Lamb of God : and is so termed, both by John
the Baptist, his forerunner, in the days of his flesh ; and by John
the evangelist, his apostle, in the state of his glory. Neither was
the Holy Spirit pleased to appear in the form of a falcon or eagle,
m Eteocles and Polynices.
» Ambros. in Psal. xiv. [Diabolus sonum quasrit, Christus silentium.]

Sect. XVI.] Christian Moderation. 487
or any other bird of prey, but of a dove ; the meekness and in
nocence whereof our Saviour recommended for pattern to all his
followers. If there be any therefore who delight to have their beaks or
talons embrued in blood, let them consider of what spirit they
are0. Sure I am, they are not of his, whose so zealous charge it
is; Put on, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of
mercy, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering ;
forbearing one another, forgiving one another, if any man have
a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave you, even so also
do ye. And above all things put on charity, which is the bond
of perfectness. And let the peace of God rule in your hearts.
Col. iii. 12-15.
Section XVI. — The twelfth rule of Moderation. — That how
ever our judgments differ, we should compose our
affections towards unity and peace.
Which divine counsel of the blessed apostle leads me to the
twelfth and last rule of Moderation, viz. that if we cannot bring
our judgments to conspire in the same truth with others, yet we
should compose our affections to all peace, to all tender respects
and kind offices to our dissenting brethren. What if our brains
be diverse ! yet let our hearts be oneP.
I cannot but commend the exemplary disposition of the Christ
ians of Constantinople in the days of Constantius, when the fa
mous Church of the Resurrection? was there to be erected. The
Novatians, men, women, children, though a sect diversely af
fected, brought stones snd mortar to the building of it, joining
with the orthodox Christians against the Arians, communicating
with them in three other churches ; and were upon the point of a
full unity and concord, had not some few wrangling spirits of the
Novatian party put in a claw, and crossed so fair hopes.
Had the matter been so slight as he conceived, it was good
counsel which the emperor gave to bishop Alexander; Ac ta-
metsir, Src. "Although you," saith he, "differ from each other
in a point of small moment, as we cannot all be of one mind in
0 Nunquid ovis lupum persequitur? Libera nos, Domine. Prolans Fascic. c.i.
non ; sed lupus ovem, &c. Chrys. Horn. q. 7.
19. in Matth. 1 'Avaraalas. Socrat. 1. ii. c. 38.
r Contra quam Lutheranus, q. apud r Socr. 1. i. u. 7. [i. 7.17. Hussey.]
Prolaeum. A Calviniana fraternitate,

488 Christian Moderation. [Book II.
every thing ; yet it may be so ordered by you, that there may
be a sincere concord betwixt you; and that there be a mutual
communion and consociation betwixt all your people."
And the same temper hath been laudably observed and pro
fessed by divers late worthies in the Church.
Concerning the administration of the Sacrament to the sick, in
case of extremity, Calvin, in an Epistle to Olevianus, gives rea
sons of that practice ; but withal adds, Scis, frater, alium esse
apud nos, [in hac Ecclesia'] morems : " You know, brother, the
fashion is otherwise with us : I bear with it, because it is not
available for us to contend."
Luther, though a man of a hot and stiff spirit, yet, writing to
the cities and churches of Helvetia, hath thus : Insuper, ut dilec-
tio et amicabilis concordia Src. ' : " Moreover, that there may be
a perfect and friendly love and concord betwixt us, we shall not
fail to do whatsoever lies in our power : especially I, for my part,
will utterly blot out of my thoughts all the offence that I had
conceived, and will promise all love and fidelity to you:" and
shuts up with a fervent prayer, that God, by the grace of his
Holy Spirit, would glue their hearts together, through Christian
love ; and purge out of them all the dross and dregs of human
diffidence and devilish malice and suspicion ; to the glory of his
holy name, the salvation of many souls; to the despite of the
devil, of the pope, and all his adherents".
And before that time, in the conference of the divines on both
parts, at Marpurge, Oct. 3, 1529, passing through all the points
wherein there seemed any difference, and sticking only at the
last concerning the Sacrament, they shut up thus, Quanquam
vero, 8rc. "And although we could not at this time agree,
whether the true body and blood of Christ be in the bread and
wine corporally ; yet each part shall hold and maintain, so far as
his conscience will allow, true Christian love with other; and
both parts shall continually pray unto Almighty God, that he
will, by his Spirit, confirm us in the true sense and understanding
thereof." To which were subscribed the names of those ten
eminent divines following; Luther, Melancthon, Justus Jonas,
Osiander, Brentius, Agricola, Oecolampadius, Zuinglius, Bucer,
Hedio. > Epist. 363. [Lausanncc 1576.] D. Pareum in Iren.
* Honestis, ao prud. Dom. Consulibus, » Subscripti, V. P. Addictus. Mart.
&c. Tiguri, Bernse, Basilias, Schafhusii, Lutherus.
Saugalli, &c. an. 1537. Vid. Hosp. et

Sect. XVI.] Christian Moderation. 489
Thus, thus it should be, amongst divines, amongst Christians,
who hope to meet in one heaven. If it must be with us as with
the Sava and Danube, two famous rivers in the east, that they
run threescore miles together in one channel, with their waters
divided in very colour from each other ; yet, let it be, as it is in
them, without noise, without violence. If we be children, as we
pretend, of our father Abraham, let us take up his peaceable
suggestion to his nephew ; Let there be no strife, I pray thee,
betwixt thee and me, betwixt thy herdmen and my herdmen ; for
we are brethren, Gen. xiii. 8. Macarius was in his time ac
counted a very holy man ; yet I read, that, after he had mace
rated himself with long devotion, he had an answer from God, of
the acceptance of his prayers ; but withal an intimation, that,
after all his endeavours, he came short of the merit of two wo
men in the city, which were two wives of two brethren, which
had lived fifteen years together in one house, without the least
discord. This sweet and peaceable disposition cannot but be graciously
accepted of God, betwixt us, that are brethren, in the wide house
of his Church. It is not for Christians to be like unto thistles
or teasels, which a man cannot touch without pricking his fingers :
but rather to Pitosella or mouse-ear in our Herbal, which is soft
and silken in the handling ; although, if it be hard strained, it
yields a juice that can harden metals to cut iron.
But if we meet with a kind of men who are disposed to be
quarrelsome, like to that Cercyon in Suidas*, who would needs
wrestle with every man he met ; the best way is to do as some
have advised, when we are provoked to fight with women, to run
away : Shun profane and vain babbling, saith the apostle ;
2 Tim. ii. 16.
As for peace, if it fly from us, we must run after it : Follow
peace with all men ; as he to his Hebrews, Heb. xii. 14.
But if, after all our quickest paces, it will not be overtaken ; if
we still fall upon those who are enemies to peace ; rabid children,
who love to hear themselves cry ; salamanders, who love the fire
of contention ; muddy eels, who delight most in troubled waters ;
be they such as are under our power, wherefore are censures but
for such spirits ? Even he that could say, Shall I come to you
with a rod, or with the spirit of meekness? said also, I would
they were even cut off that trouble you, Gal. v. 12. It is well
commended by the historiany in Proclus, bishop of Constantinople,
* Suidas V. Cercyon. y Socr. 1. vii. c. 40, [41. Hussey.]

490 Christian Moderation.
that he showed himself mild and gentle to all ; and by this means
won more than others did by roughness and severity ; and it is
a sure rule, That it is an easier account that shall be given for
mercy than for cruelty2. And certainly this course is first to be
taken. The chirurgeon strokes the arm before he opens the vein.
But where lenity prevails not, we are cruel to the Church if we
strike not home. When singing will not still the child, the rod
must. If they be such as are without the reach of our authority, we
must first do our best to make them sensible of the wounds they
give to our common mother, and those rubs which they lay in the
way of the Gospel : since it cannot be otherwise now than the
historian noteth in those first ages of the Church, That the dif
ference of opinions, whereof one arose out of another, was a
great hinderance to many, in pitching upon our holy profession3:
and as Optatus of old ; " Betwixt our Licet and their Non licet,
Christian souls cannot choose but stagger, and be distracted :"
and, withal, to mind them of the palpable wrongs we do to our
selves, and the advantages we give to common enemies. It was
a worthy and just intimation which St. Gregory Nazianzen gives
to this purpose unto the synod of Constantinople : " What can
be more absurd," saith he, " than while we decline the enemies'
fight, to betake ourselves to mutual assaults of each other, and by
this means to waste and weaken our own forces ? Or what can
be a greater pleasure to our adversaries, than to see us thus
bickering with ourselves ?"
But if neither the respect to the glory of the God of Peace,
nor to the peace and welfare of the dear Church and Spouse of
Christ, nor of themselves, can prevail any thing ; what remains,
but to mourn in silence, for the irreparable breaches of the
sacred walls of Jerusalem ; and, together with our zealous prayers
for the opposed peace of Sion, to appeal to the justice of that
holy and righteous Lord God of Israel, with : —
Increpa Domine, bestias calami,
" Rebuke 0 Lord, the beasts of the reed ; and scatter the
people that delight in war." Amen.
1 Melius est propter misericordiam quorum alia ex aliis nascebantur, impe-
rationem reddere, quam propter crude- dimento fuit, quo minus complures, qui
litatem. fidem Christianam recipere animum in-
a Quinetiam dogmatum discrepantia, duxerant, earn reciperent.

HOLY DECENCY
IN THE
WORSHIP OF GOD.

BY J. H., B. N.

I know that a clean heart and a right spirit is that which God
mainly regards ; for as he is a spirit, so he will be served in
spirit, John iv. 24 ; but, withal, as he hath made the body, and
hath made it a partner with the soul, so he justly expects that it
should be also wholly devoted to him ; so as the apostle, upon good
reason, prays for his Thessalonians, that their whole spirit and
soul and body may be preserved blameless unto the coming of
our Lord Jesus Christ, 1 Thess. v. 23 ; and beseeches his Romans,
by the mercies of God, that they present their bodies a living
sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, Rom. xii. 1 .
Now as the body is capable of a double uncleanness; the one
moral, when it is made an instrument and agent in sin ; the other
natural, when it is polluted with outward filthiness ; so both of
these are fit to be avoided in our addresses to the pure and holy
God : the former out of God's absolute command, who hath
charged us to cleanse ourselves from all filthiness, both of the
flesh and spirit, 2 Cor. vii. 1 ; the latter, out of the just grounds
of decency and expedience ; for though there be no sinful turpi
tude in those bodily uncleannesses wherein we offer ourselves to
appear before the Lord our God ; yet there is so deep an unbe-
seemingness in them, as places them in the next door to sin.
Perhaps God's ancient people the Jews were too superstitiously
scrupulous in these external observations ; whose Talmud tells us of
one of their great rabbies, that would rather suffer under extremity
of hunger and thirst than taste of aught with unwashen hands, as
counting that neglect equal to lying with an harlot ; and who have
raised a great question, whether if any of their poultry have but
dipped their beak in the bowl, the water may be allowed to wash

492 Holy Decency in the Worship of God.
in; forbidding to void the urine standing, except it be upon a
descent of ground, lest any drop should recoil upon the feet ; and
in case of the other evacuation, beside the paddle-staff, and other
ceremonies in uncovering the feet, enjoining to turn the face to
the south, not to the east or west, because those coasts had their
faces directed towards them in their devotions. What should I
speak of their extreme curiosity in their outward observances
concerning the Law, which no man might be allowed to read
while he was but walking towards the unloading of nature, or to
the bath, or near to any place of annoyance ? No man might so
much as spit in the temple, or before that sacred volume, or stretch
forth his feet towards it, or turn his back upon it, or receive it
with the left hand. No man might presume to write it, but upon
the parchment made of the skin of a clean beast ; nor to write or
give a bill of divorce, but by the side of a running stream ; yea,
the very Turks, as they have borrowed tjjeir circumcision, so also
religious niceties from these Jews, not allowing their Alcoran to
be touched by a person that is unclean.
But surely I fear these men are not more faulty in the one ex
treme than many Christians are in the other ; who place a kind
of holiness in a slovenly neglect, and so order themselves, as if
they thought a nasty carelessness in God's services were most ac
ceptable to him. Hence it is that they affect homely places for
his worship, abandoning all magnificence and cost in all the acts
and appendances of their devotion ; clay and sticks please them
better than marble and cedars. Hence it is that their dresses
make no difference of festivals ; all stuffs, all colours are ahke to
them, in all sacred solemnities : hence, that they stumble into
God's house without all care or show of reverence, and sit them
down at his table, like his fellows, with their hats on their heads :
hence, that they make no difference of coming with full paunches
to that heavenly banquet ; and that the very dogs are allowed free
access and leave to lift up their legs at those holy tables where we
partake of the Son of Goda.
For the rectifying of which misconceits and practices, let it be
laid down as an undoubted rule, That it is a thing well-pleasing
to God, that there should be all outward cleanliness, gravity, re
verent and comely postures, meet furniture, utensils, places, used
and observed in the service of the Almighty ; a truth sufficiently
a In quibus vota populi et membra Christi portata sunt. Optat. Milevit. 1. vi.

Holy Decency in the Worship of God. 493
grounded upon that irrefragable canon of the apostle, Let all
things be done decently and in order, i Cor. xiv. 40 ; whereof
order refers to persons and actions ; decency, to the things done,
and the fashion of doing them.
Disorder therefore and indecency, as they are a direct violation
of this apostolic charge, so doubtless they are justly offensive to
the majesty of that God whose service is disgraced by them.
As for disorder, it falls not into our present discourse. In matter
of indecency, the main disquisition will be, how it may be judged
and determined.
To know what is comely, hath been of old noted to be not more
commendable than difficult ; for the minds of men may be of a dif
ferent diet : one may approve that for decent which another
abhors as most unbeseeming13. A cynic cur or some Turkish
saint may think it not uncomely to plant his own kind in the open
marketplace ; and Xenophon c tells us of a certain people, called
Mosynecians, whose practice was to do all those acts in public
which other men, placing shame in them, are wont to reserve for
the greatest secrecy ; and, contrarily, to do those things in private
which other nations thought fit for the openest view. And we find
that the stigmatical saint of the Church of Rome, who could say
of himself that God would have him fatuellum quendamA, thought
it no shame to go stark naked through the streets of Assisium.
So did Theodore the tailor, and seven men and five women, ana
baptists, strip themselves, and run naked through Amsterdam e.
But certainly there are unquestionable rules whereby decency
may be both regulated and judged. The great doctor of the
Gentiles, when he would correct an indecent practice in his
Corinthians, uses these three expressions, Judge in yourselves :
is it comely ? Doth not nature itself teach you ? We have no
such custom, nor the churches of God, 1 Cor. xi. io„ 14, 16.
Wherein he sends us, for the determination of decency, to the
judgment of our right reason, undebauched nature, and approved
custom : and surely if we follow the guidance of these three, we
cannot easily err in our decision of comeliness, both in our carriage
in human affairs and in the services of God.
All these will tell us, that it is most meet that all outward
b Suarum rerum nemo non mitis ar- me esse unum fatuellum in hoc mundo.
biter et pius judex. Petrarch. Conform. Separat.
c Bap0apwraToiiravT<»vMoovvoiKol,Si,c. e Guy de Bres. Idem fecit coram
Xenoph. de Exped. Cyri. 1. v. u. 4. Episcopo Assisii. lib. Conform, p. 211. -
d Dixit mihi Dominus, quod volebat

494 Holy Decency in the Worship of God.
cleanliness, gravity, modesty, reverence, should be used in all the
actions of divine worship ; and will inform us, that whatsoever
fashion of deportment is held rude and uncivil in human conver
sation, is so much more indecent in divine actions, by how much
the Person whom we deal with is more awful and worthier of the
highest observance.
It is no other than an error therefore in those men, who think
that if they look to the inward disposition of the soul, it matters
not in what posture or what loathsome turpitude the body ap
pears before the Almighty. Even that slovenly cynic, when he
saw a woman bowing herself forward too low in her devotion,
could chide her for her unregard to those deities which beheld
her on all sides. Our blessed Saviour, though he had good cheer
at the Pharisee's house, yet he somewhat taxeth his host for want
of a due compliment ; / entered into thy house, thou gavest me
no water for my feet : my head with oil thou didst not anoint,
fyc, Luke vii. 44, 46. He looks still for meet formalities of good
entertainment, as well as the substance of the dishes. It was
God's charge, that no steps should be made to go up to his altar,
lest the nakedness of the sacrificer should he discovered, Exodus
xx. 26. For this cause it was that he, who made the first suit of
skins for our first parents, ordained linen breeches for his priests
in their ministrations.
God hath nowhere commanded us to cut our nails or our hair,
but it were a foul indecency not to do both. And if we would
justly loath a man that should come to our table like wild Nebu
chadnezzar in the desert, with hair to his waist and claws on his
fingers, how much more odious would this seem in a man that
should thus thrust himself in to the table of the Lord ! And if our
displeasure would justly arise at that barbarous guest which should
come to our board with his hands besmeared with ordure or
blood, how can we think it can be otherwise than ill-taken of the
holy God, that we should, in a beastly garb, offer ourselves into
his presence ?
It is not only in regard of spiritual filthiness that the evil
spirits are called unclean, but even of external also ; wherein how
much they delight, we may well appeal to the confessions of those
witches and sorcerers, which, upon their conviction and penitence,
have laid open the shameful rites of their nightly meetings1.
Neither was it without cause that some of their prime agents in
f Bodin. Demonomania, &c.

Holy Decency in the Worship of God. 495
the ancient church were called /3op/3opiYcH, from those filthy fashions
which were in use amongst theme.
Contrarily, what pleasure the pure and holy God takes in the
cleanness, both of flesh and spirit, is abundantly testified by those
many and strict injunctions of lotions and purifications which we
find upon every occasion in his ancient Law: and though those laws
be not now obligatory, as being for the substance of them cere
monial and typical, yet they have in them so much tincture of an
eternal morality, as to imply a meetness of decent cleanliness in
the services of God.
In the observation whereof it is meet for us to hold a middle
way betwixt superstition and neglect.
It is easy to note how, in the former extreme, a superstitious
curiosity hath crept into the Church of Rome ; insomuch as it
may well vie with the Jewish for multitude and niceness of ob
servances. Their altar-cloths must not be touched but with a
brush appropriated to that service ; their corporals must first, ere
they be delivered forth, be washed by none but those that are in
sacred orders, in a vessel proper only to that use, with soap and
lye ; and after with pure water, which after the rinsing must be
poured into the sacrariumn : their chalices must not be touched
by one that is not in orders' : no glove may be worn in their
quirek : no woman or layman may make their host, neither may
any lay person so much as look at that sacred wafer out of his
window1: their missal cushions may not be brought so much as
for the bishop to kneel onm: the stones of a demolished church
may be sold to laymen but with reservation of uses ; neither may so
much as an house for the curate be built upon the same floor, but
by the pope's license" : upon the burial of an heretic within the
precincts, the church must be reconciled, and the walls scraped ° :
the grass in the churchyard may not be used to any pasturage P :
their Agnus -Dei may not be touched by a layman ; no, not with
gloves on, or with a pair of tongs. What should I instance in more ?
A just volume would not contain the curious scruples of their nice
observances in their vestments, consecrations, sacramental rites ;
e Gnostici borboritse quasi coenosi, ob k Tit. Canon. Munera.
turpitudinem in suis mysteriis, &c. Au- ' V. Processio Ibid. Gavant.
gustin. de Hceres. [lib. i. § 6.] Philastr. m Moresin. Scot, de Orig. Papat. 9.
de Hceres. n Gavant V. Ecclesia.
h Bartol. Gavant. part. 5. de Nitore et " Abradendi parietis sic et Donatistse.
Munditie Sacras Supellectilis. Optat. 1. 6.
1 Idem tit. Calix. P Tit. Coemeteria.

496 Holy Decency in the Worship of God.
and indeed in the whole carriage of their religious devotions;
in all which they bring themselves back under the bondage
of more than Judaical ceremonies ; placing God's worship in the
ritual devices of men, and bringing their consciences under the
servile subjection to human impositions. That liberty wherewith
Christ hath made us free calleth us to the avoidance of this un
just excess.
But, withal, our reverential fear of the God of heaven calls us
to eschew, in the other extreme, all sordid incuriousness and
slovenly neglect in his immediate services.
To which purpose let it pass for a sure rule, that there is a
kind of relative holiness in persons, things, times, places, actions :
relative, I say ; not inherent in themselves, but in reference to their
use and destination.
•* And in the second place, that even this kind of holiness chal
lengeth a reverent respect from us.
A person, whose profession is holy, by his solemn consecration
to God, should and ought to carry more veneration from us than
every common man.
The holy elements in the Sacrament being now set apart to
this divine use, should be otherwise regarded of us than the com
mon bread and wine at the tavern, in respect of that blessed
mystery whereto they are appropriated.
God's holy day is held worthy of more respect from us than
all the days in the year besides.
And why should it not be so likewise in places and actions?
Even in our own houses we observe a decency and different re
gard of rooms ; holding it unbeseeming, that the businesses of the
scullery should be done in our parlour, or that our bedchamber
should be made a larder ; and can we think it less uncomely to
put God's peculiar house to the use of a kitchen or stable ? Surely
the service whereto it is ordained, and the name that it bears,
ought to privilege it from all either base or profane employment.
As for sacred actions, as they have more life in them than the
outward circumstances of time and place, so they do justly require
more respect in the managing of them. In our petitions, if we
come to earthly princes upon our knees with an awful reverence,
how much more ought we to do so to the King of Glory ! In our
receipt of the blessed eucharist, our demeanour must be no other
than such as may become the guests of the great King of Heaven,
and the commensals of the Lord Jesus, of whom and with whom we

Holy decency in the worship of God. 497
do then communicate. In hearing or reading the divine oracles
our deportment must be such as may argue our putting a dif
ference betwixt the word of the everliving God, and the fallible
dictates of mortal men like ourselves !
And as it is in outward decency and cleanliness, so also in
matter of cost or handsomeness, at least in the utensils and struc
tures that belong to God.
Wherein it is a marvel how much we, in this last age of the
world, have varied from our predecessors in the first establish
ment of Christianity <l. They thought nothing good enough for
God Almighty, we think nothing too mean. Upon the first noise
of the gospel, when the secular state was not their friend, the
poor Christians were glad to make any shift. If they could build
their first oratories or churches of sticks, as at Glastonbury, in
the entrance of Christianity, they were well apayed ; or if but the
bare sky were their roof, they were well enough contented ; but
when once kings became nursing-fathers to the Church, what cost,
what magnificence was sufficient for God's temples? Even as it
was in the elder times of God's ancient people ; at the first there
was a stake pitched for the habitation of the Almighty ; after
wards, there was a tabernacle erected, and God was pleased to
dwell in tents ; but when kings were chosen by God to go in and
out before his people, now a stately structure, one of the wonders
of the world, was raised unto God in Sion ; in so admirable beauty,
as dazzled the eyes of the world to behold it. When the Christian
religion then had taken foot in the empire, what sumptuous monu
ments were erected by that pious Constantine, in whom our nation
claimeth a just interest, let histories speak : no stones were too
precious, no metal was too costly, for that happy use ; and so
powerful influence had that example upon Christian kings and
princes, that each strove who should exceed other in the cost
and splendour of those holy fabrics, the riches of their dotation,
the price of their sacred vessels; and from them, as from the
head to the skirts, descended to the Christian nobility and gentry,
in such sort, that in a short space the face of the earth was grown
proud to be adorned with so many precious piles, and the Church
was grown glorious and happy with so bountiful endowments.
And what shall we think of it, that the kings of Tarshish and
1 Nihd refert sivtf ex auro, sive ex Jerusalem. Luth. in Ps. cxxii. [Op.
ligno, sit Templum : sive sit stabulum. Witeb. 1583. torn. iii. p. 522. b.]
sicut in Bethleem ; sive regia domus, in
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. K k

498 Holy decency in tlie worship of God.
the isles did thus bring presents : and the kings of Sheba and
Seba did offer gifts, Ps. Ixxii. 10. Was it well done, or might
it not better have been spared? Surely, had those godly em
perors, kings, princes, peers, gentry, been of the mind of many
modern Christians, they had forborne this care and cost, and
turned their magnificence into another channel ; but if this bounty
of theirs were holy and commendable, as it hath been justly cele
brated by all Christians till this present age, how are those of ours
shamefully degenerated, who affect nothing but homeliness and
beggary in all that is devoted to the Almighty, and are ready to
say contrary to the man after God's own heart, I will offer
to the Lord my God of that which shall cost me nothing,
2 Sam. xxiv. 24.
With what great state and deep expense God was served under
the Law, no man can be ignorant ; for who knows not the costly
furniture of the tabernacle, the rich habiliments of the priest, the
precious vessels for the sacrifices ; and, after that, the invaluable
sumptuousness of the Temple, both without and within ; in the
marbles, cedars, almuggim trees, brass, silver, gold ; in the curious
celatures and artificial textures ? In regard of all which, for matter
and form, what was this other than the glory of the whole earth ?
And as for the very altar alone, (God's Ariel,) that which went
up therefrom in smoke, both in the daily sacrifices and the solemn
hecatombs upon special occasions, what man could value ? besides
the treble tithes, firstfruits, oblations, which were perpetually
presented to God for tbe maintenance of his priesthood. 0 the
costly services of God under the Law ! And do we think the same
God is now of a quite other diet than formerly ? Is all this mere
ceremony ? Is there not so much morality in it as that it is meet
the great God, who is the possessor of heaven and earth, should be
served of the best ? that it is not for us to affect too much cheap
ness and neglective homeliness in our evangelical devotions ?
Surely nature itself calls to us for this respect to a Deity.
Even the very savage Indians may teach us this point of religion :
amongst whom we find the Mexicans, a people that had never
had any intercourse with the other three parts of the world, emi
nent in this kind. What sumptuous and stately temples had they
erected to their devils ! How did they enrich their miscalled gods
with magazines of their treasure ! And even still the most bar
barous and brutish of all those people, that bear the shape of
men, have this principle bred in them, That if they have aught

Holy decency in the worship of God. 499
better than other, it is for their God; a principle so much ad
vanced by imperfect Christianity, that the Abassins hold it piacular
to build their own houses of the same matter which is reserved
for their churches ; to the very fabric and use whereof they yield
so much reverence, as that their greatest peer alights from his
horse when he comes but within view of those sacred piles1".
And if from those remote parts of the world we shall think fit
to look homewards, how just cause shall we find to wonder at the
munificent piety of our predecessors, who so freely poured out
themselves into bountiful expense for raising of the houses of God
in our island, and endowing them with rich patrimony, that the
prime honour of this nation, all the world over, hath ever been
the beauty of our churches ! Neither was it otherwise in all those
parts of the world where Christianity had obtained. How frequent
was it for a wealthy matron with Vestina, and for a great noble
man with the Roman Tertulluss, to make God their heir, and to
enrich his houses and services with the legacies of their jewels
and possessions ! Whereupon it came to pass, that those structures
and vessels, which at the first were but of mud and meaner metals,
according to the poverty of the donors, soon after exchanged their
homeliness for so glorious a magnificence as bleared the eyes of
the heathen beholders. " See," saith that enemy of Christ, " in
What vessels Mary's son is served :" and Ammianus is ready to
burst with spite at the liberal provision of God's ministers, in com
parison of their neglected paganism '.
There may have been some in all ages, that, out of a mis-
grounded humility and pretended mortification, have affected a
willing disrespect of all outward accommodations, both in their
own domestic provisions and in the public services of God. Such
were St. Gallus of old, and in later times the two famous Francises
of Assise and of St. Paul.
The first whereof, Gallus, as the history11 reports, when a great
duke, out of a reverent opinion of his sanctity, had given him a
rich and curiously carved piece of plate, Magnoaldus, his disciple,
who had the carriage of that precious vessel, moving that it
might be reserved for the sacred use of God's table, received this
answer from him : " Son, remember what Peter said ; Gold and

r Jo. Pory's Description of Africk. t Ut ditentur oblationibus matrona-
s Regna potius quam coenobia vir rum, &c.
sanctus posteris reliquit, &c. Yolaterran. " Walafrid. Strab. c. 18.
Ex Libro Pontific. Innocent. I.
K k 2

500 Holy decency in the worship of God.
silver have I none : let this plate, which thou bearest, be distri
buted to the poor : for my blessed master, St. Colomb, was wont
to offer that holy sacrifice in chalices of brass; because, they say,
our Saviour was with brazen nails fastened to his cross." Thus
he, in more humility than wisdom1.
And for the other two, never man more affected bravery and
pride than they did beggary and nastiness ; placing a kind of
merit in sticks and clay ; in rags and patches, and slovenryy.
Let these and their ill-advised followers pass for Cynics in Christ
ianity : although, now, whatever the original rule of their sordid
founder was, even those of that order can in their buildings and
furnitures emulate the magnificence of princes ; as if they affected
no less excess in the one extreme than their patron did in the
other z. Wise Christians sit down in the mean: now, under the
Gospel, avoiding a careless or parsimonious neglect on the one
side, and a superstitious lavishness on the other.
As for this Church of ours, there is, at this time especially,
little fear of too much : and if we be not more in the ablative
than our ancestors were in the dative case, yet we are generally
more apt to higgle with the Almighty, and in a base niggard
liness to pinch him in the allowances to his service : wherein we
do not so much wrong our God as ourselves ; for there is not,
in all the world, so sure a motive for God to give largely unto us,
as that we give freely unto God. David did but intend to build
God an house ; and now, in a gracious retribution, God tells him
by Nathan, The Lord will build thee an house; and will establish
thy house and thy kingdom for ever before thee, 2 Sam. xi. 16 :
and, contrarily, in this it holds, as in all other pious bequests, He
that soweth sparingly shall reap sparingly, 2 Cor. ix. 6. And
if some particular ways of the conveyance of our bounty were
anciently ceremonial, yet, we are sure, this charge is perpetual,
Honour the Lord with thy substance, Prov. iii. 9. Had our
blessed Saviour been of the mind of these dry and pinching
devotionists, he had surely chid Mary Magdalene for the needless
waste of that her precious ointment ; and have agreed with Judas,
¦- Leprosis ulcerosarum plagarum rue- melius humilitatem et paupertatem.
bat in oscula. Lib. Conform. Fructn. Se- Libr. Conform, p. 218. lib. ii. Fructu. 4.
parat. Conform. 16.
y S. Franciscus, circa mortem suam, « Fratres omnes vilibus vestibus indu-
in testamento suo scribi voluit, quod antur : et possunt ea repeciare de saccis
omnes cella? et domus fratrum de lignis et aliis peciis cum benedictione Dei.
et luto essent tantum, ad conservandam Conform. 1. i. Fructu. 9. p. 1 16.

Holy decency in the worship of God. 501
how much better it might have been employed for the relief of
many poor souls that wanted bread, than in such a compliment of
unnecessary delicacy: but, how kindly this seasonable expense
was taken by our Lord Jesus, appears, in that the memorial of
this beneficence is ordained by him to have no narrower bounds
of time or place, than this hlessed gospel itself, Matt. xxvi. 13.
Shortly, as the honest and learned Gerson long since distin
guished in matter of doctrine, so must we learn to distinguish in
matter of practice. Some things are of the necessity of devotion ;
others, of the piety of devotion : and, yet further, in this second
rank, some things are essential to the piety of devotion, without
which it cannot be at all ; others are accidental, without which it
cannot be so well : under this latter sort, expedience and decency,
both of cleanliness and cost, challenge a due place, and cannot
justly be denied it. As it is in our own case, some things are
requisite, out of the necessity of nature, without which we cannot
subsist ; other things are requisite, for the convenience of our
estate, without which we cannot maintain a well-being. He that
hath bread and drink and clothes, may live ; but he that hath not
his linen washed, and his meat cleanly dressed, and change of
warm suits, will hardly live with comfort.
To the great marriage of the king's son in the gospel all
comers are invited ; yea, the guests are fetched from the very
highways and hedges, where there could be no probability of any
choice wardrobe ; yet, when the king comes in, and finds a man
without his wedding garment, he in displeasure asks, Friend, how
earnest thou in hither? Matt. xxii. 9, 10 : sufficiently intimating,
that even comeliness of fashion and meet complement are worthily
expected in the solemn entertainments of God.
To conclude, if we have rightly apprehended the dreadful and
glorious Majesty of the great God, we shall never think we can
come with reverence enough into his holy presence : and it is no
small appendance of reverence to have our very bodies decently
composed before him. And if we have well weighed the absolute
sovereignty of this great King of Glory ; and the infinite largess
of our munificent God, who hath given us ourselves, and all that
we have, or are, or hope for ; that hath not grudged us aught in
earth or heaven, no, not the dear Son of his Love and Eternal
Essence, but hath sent him out of his bosom for our redemption :
we cannot think all our little enough to consecrate to his blessed
name and service ; and shall hold that evil eye worthy to be

502 Holy decency in the worship of God.
pulled out which shall grudge the fattest of his flocks and herds
to the altar of the Almighty.
Now the application of this whole discourse I leave to the
thoughts of every reader ; who cannot but easily find, how too
much need there is of a monitor of this kind ; while the examples
of a profane indecency so abound every where, to the great shame
of the gospel and scandal of all ingenuous minds. I forbear to
particularize. A volume would be too strait for this complaint.
It is not the blushing of my nation, the derision of foreigners,
the advantage of adversaries, that I drive at, in these seasonable
lines : it is the reformation of those foul abuses, gross neglects,
outward indignities, notorious pollutions, which have helped to
expose the face of this famous Church, late the glory of Christ
endom, to the scorn of the nations round about us, who now
change their former envy at her unmatchable beauty into a kind
of insulting pity of her miserable deformity. Return, dear
brethren, return to that comely order and decency, which won
honour and reverence to your goodly forefathers.
After the main care of the substance of divine worship, which
must be ever holy, spiritual, answerable to the unfailing and exact
rule of the eternal word of God; let the outward carriage of God's
sacred affairs be, what may be, suitable to that pure and dreadful
Majesty whose they are. Let his now neglected houses be decently
repaired, neatly kept, reverently regarded, for the Owner's sake ;
and inviolably reserved for those sacred uses to which they are
dedicated81. Let his holy table be comely spread, and attended
with awful devotion. Let them be clean, both within and without,
that bear the vessels of the Lord. Let the maintenance of his
altar be free, hberal, cheerful. Let God's chair, the pulpit, be
climbed into by his chosen servants with trembling and gravity.
Briefly, let his whole service and worship be celebrated with all
holy reverence. This is the way to the acceptation of God and
to honour with men.
a Ne quid profanum Templo Dei infe- bitat, derelinquat. Cyprian de Habitu.
ratur; ne, offensus, sedem, quam inha- Virg. [Op. Antv. 1568. p. 227.]

THE DEVOUT SOUL:
OR,
RULES OF HEAVENLY DEVOTION.

BY JOSEPH, BISHOP OF NORWICH.

TO ALL CHRISTIAN READERS,
GKACB AND PEACE.

That in a time, when we hear no noise but of drums and trumpets, and talk
of nothing but arms and sieges and battles, I should write of devotion, may
seem to some of you strange and unseasonable : to me, contrarily, it seems
most fit and opportune : for when can it be more proper to direct our address
to the throne of grace than when we are in the very jaws of death ? or when
should we go to seek the face of our God, rather than in the needful time of
trouble ?
Blessed be my God, who, in the midst of these woful tumults, hath vouch
safed to give me these calm and holy thoughts ; which I justly suppose he
meant not to suggest that they should be smothered in the breast wherein
they were conceived, but with a purpose to have the benefit communicated
unto many.
Who is there that needs not vehement excitations and helps to devotion i
and when more than now ? In a tempest, the mariners themselves do not only
cry every man to his God, but awaken Jonah, that is fast asleep under the
hatches, and chide him to his prayers.
Surely had we not been faihng in our devotions we could not have been
thus universally miserable. That duty, the neglect whereof is guilty of our
calamity, must, in the effectual performance of it, be the means of our reco
very. Be but devout, and we cannot miscarry under judgments. Woe is me !
the tears of penitence were more fit to quench the public flame than blood.
How soon would it clear up abovehead if we were but holily affected within !
Could we send our zealous ambassadors up to heaven, we could not fail of an
happy peace. I direct the way : God bring us to the end.
For my own particular practice, God is witness to my soul, that, as one the
sense of whose private affliction is swallowed up of the public, I cease not

504 The Devout Soul.
daily to ply the Father of mercies with my fervent prayers, that he would at
last be pleased, after so many streams of blood, to pass an act of pacification
in heaven.
And what good heart can do otherwise ? Brethren, all ye that love God,
and his Church, and his truth, and his anointed, and your country, and your
selves, and yours, join your forces with mine j and let us, by an holy violence,
make way to the gates of heaven with our petition for mercy and peace, and
not suffer ourselves to be beaten off from the threshold of grace, till we be
answered with a condescent. He whose goodness is wont to prevent our
desires will not give denials to our importunities. Pray and farewell.
Norwich, March 10, 1643.

Section I.
Devotion is the life of religion, the very soul of piety, the
highest employment of grace, and no other than the prepossession
of heaven by the saints of God here upon earth ; every improve
ment whereof is of more advantage and value to the Christian
soul than all the profit and contentments which this world can
afford it.
There is a kind of art of devotion, if we can attain unto it,
whereby the practice thereof may be much advanced. We have
known indeed some holy souls, which out of the general precepts
of piety, and their own happy experiments of God's mercy, have,
through the grace of God, grown to a great measure of perfection
this way, which yet might have been much expedited and com
pleted by those helps which the greater illumination and expe
rience of others might have afforded them. Like as we see it in
other faculties : there are those, who out of a natural dexterity
and their own frequent practice, have got into a safe posture of
defence, and have handled their weapon with commendable skill,
whom yet the fence-school might have raised to an higher
pitch of cunning. As nature is perfected, so grace is not a little
furthered by art : since it pleaseth the wisdom of God to work
ordinarily upon the soul, not by the immediate power of miracle,
but in such methods and by such means as may most conduce to
his blessed ends. It is true, that all our good motions come from
the Spirit of God ; neither is it less true, that all the good coun
sels of others proceed from the same Spirit, and that good Spirit
cannot be cross to itself : he therefore that infuses good thoughts
into us, suggests also such directions as may render us apt both to

Sect. IL] The Devout Soul. 505
receive and improve them. If God be bounteous, we may not be
idle and neglective of our spiritual aids.
Section II.
If you tell me, by way of instance in a particular act of de
votion, that there is a gift of prayer, and that the Spirit of God
is not tied to rules, 1 yield both these ; but, withal, I must say
there are also helps of prayer, and that we must not expect im
mediate inspirations. I find the world much mistaken in both.
They think that man hath the gift of prayer that can utter the
thoughts of his heart roundly unto God, that can express himself
smoothly in the phrase of the Holy Ghost, and press God with
most proper words and passionate vehemence ; and surely this is
a commendable faculty wheresoever it is : but this is not the gift
of prayer ; you may call it, if you will, the gift of elocution. Do
we say that man hath the gift of pleading that can talk eloquently
at the bar, that can in good terms loud and earnestly importune
the judge for his client ? and not rather he that brings the strongest
reason, and quotes his books and precedents with most truth and
clearest evidence, so as may convince the jury and persuade the
judge ? Do we say he hath the gift of preaching, that can deliver
himself in a flowing manner of speech to his hearers; that can
cite scriptures or fathers ; that can please his auditory with the
flowers of rhetoric? or rather he that can divide the word. aright,
interpret it soundly, apply it judiciously, put it home to the con
science ; speaking in the evidence of the Spirit ; powerfully con
vincing the gainsayers; comforting the dejected; and drawing
every soul nearer to heaven ? The hke must we say for prayer,
the gift whereof he may be truly said to have, not that hath the
most rennible tongue, for prayer is not so much a matter of the
lips as of the heart ; but he that hath the most illuminated appre
hension of the God to whom he speaks ; tlie deepest sense of his
own wants ; the most eager longings after grace ; the ferventest
desires of supplies from heaven ; and, in a word, whose heart sends
up the strongest groans and cries to the Father of mercies.
Neither may we look for enthusiasms and immediate inspirations,
putting ourselves upon God's Spirit in the solemn exercises of our
invocation without heed or meditation ; the dangerous inconveni
ence whereof hath been too often found in the rash and unwar
rantable expressions that have fallen from the mouths of unwary
suppliants ; but we must address ourselves, with due preparation,

506 The Devout Soul.
to that holy work ; we must digest our suits, and foreorder our
supplications to the Almighty, so that there may be excellent and
necessary use of meet rules of our devotion.
He whose Spirit helps us to pray, and whose lips taught us how
to pray, is an all-sufficient example for us. All the skill of men
and angels cannot afford a more exquisite model of supplicatory
devotion than that blessed Saviour of ours gave us in the Mount :
led in by a divine and heart-raising preface, carried out with a
strong and heavenly enforcement ; wherein an awful compellation
makes way for petition, and petition makes way for thanksgiving :
the petitions marshalled in a most exact order ; for spiritual bless
ings, which have an immediate concernment of God, in the first
place ; then, for temporal favours, which concern ourselves, in the
second. So punctual a method had not been observed by Him
that heareth prayers, if it had been all one to him to have had
our devotions confused and tumultuary.
Section III.
There is commonly much mistaking of devotion, as if it were
nothing but an act of vocal prayer, expiring with that holy
breath, and revived with the next task of our invocation ; which
is usually measured of many by frequence, length, smoothness of
expression, loudness, vehemence. Whereas indeed it is rather
an habitual disposition of an holy soul sweetly conversing with
God in all the forms of an heavenly yet awful familiarity, and
a constant entertainment of ourselves here below with the God
of spirits, in our sanctified thoughts and affections: one of the
noble exercises whereof is our access to the throne of grace
in our prayers; whereto may be added, the ordering of our
holy attendance upon the blessed word and sacraments of the
Almighty. Nothing hinders therefore but that a stammering suppliant may
reach to a more eminent devotion than he that can deliver himself
in the most fluent and pathetical forms of elocution, and that our
silence may be more devout than our noise.
We shall not need to send you to the cells or cloisters for this
skill, although it will hardly be beheved how far some of their
contemplative men have gone in the theory hereof; perhaps like
as chemists give rules for the attaining of that elixir which they
never found ; for sure they must needs fail of that perfection they
pretend, who are commonly in the object of it, always in the

Sect. IV.] The Devout Soul. 507
ground of it, which is faith, stripped by their opinion of the com-
fortablest use of it, certainty of application.
Section IV.
As there may be many resemblances betwixt light and devotion,
so this one especially, that, as there is a light universally diffused
through the air, and there is a particular recollection of light into
the body of the sun and stars, so it is in devotion ; there is a
general kind of devotion, that goes through the renewed heart
and life of a Christian, which wo may term habitual and virtual ;
and there is a special and fixed exercise of devotion, which we
name actual
The soul that is rightly affected to God is never void of an
holy devotion. Wherever it is, whatever it doth, it is still lifted
up to God, and fastened upon him, and converses with him, ever
serving the Lord in fear, and rejoicing in him with trembling.
For the effectual performance whereof, it is requisite, first, that
the heart be settled in a right apprehension of our God ; without
which, our devotion is not thankless only, but sinful.
With much labour therefore, and agitation of a mind illumi
nated from above, we must find ourselves wrought to an high,
awful, adorative, and constant conceit of that incomprehensible
Majesty, in whom we live, and move, and are : one God in three
most glorious Persons ; infinite in wisdom, in power, in justice, in
mercy, in providence, in all that he is, in all that he hath, in all
that he doth ; dwelling in light inaccessible ; attended with thou
sand thousands of angels : whom yet we neither can know, neither
would it avail us if we could, but in the face of the eternal Son of
his love, our blessed Mediator, God and man; who sits at the
right hand of Majesty in the highest heavens ; from the sight of
whose glorious humanity we comfortably rise to the contempla
tion of that infinite Deity whereto it is inseparably united, in and
by him made ours by a lively faith, finding our persons and
obedience accepted, expecting our full redemption and blessed
ness. Here, here must our hearts be unremovably fixed. In
his hght must we see light. No cloudy occurrences of this world,
no busy employments, no painful sufferings, must hinder us from
thus seeing him that is invisible. Section V.
Neither doth the devout heart see his God aloof off, as dwelling

508 The Devout Soul.
above in the circle of heaven, but beholds that infinite spirit really
present with him.
The Lord is upon thy right hand, saith the Psalmist. Our
bodily eye doth not more certainly see our own flesh than the
spiritual eye sees God close by us, yea, in us. A man's own soul
is not so intimate to himself as God is to his soul ; neither do we
move by him only, but in him.
What a sweet conversation therefore hath the holy soul with
his God ! What heavenly conferences have they two which the
world is not privy to ; while God entertains the soul with the
divine motions of his Spirit, the soul entertains God with gracious
compliances !
Is the heart heavy with the grievous pressures of affiiction?
the soul goes in to his God, and pours out itself before him in
earnest bemoanings and supplications ; the God of mercy answers
the soul again with seasonahle refreshings of comfort.
Is the heart secretly wounded and bleeding with the conscience
of some sin ? it speedily betakes itself to the great Physician of
the soul, who forthwith applies the balm of Gilead for an unfail
ing and present cure.
Is the heart distracted with doubts ? the soul retires to that in
ward oracle of God for counsel ; he returns to the soul an happy
settlement of just resolution.
Is the heart deeply affected with the sense of some special
favour from his God ? the soul breaks forth into the passionate
voice of praise and thanksgiving ; God returns the pleasing testi
mony of a cheerful acceptation.
0 blessed soul, that hath a God to go unto upon all occasions !
0 infinite mercy of a God, that vouchsafes to stoop to such en-
tireness with dust and ashes ! It was a gracious speech of a
worthy Divinea upon his death-bed, now breathing towards heaven ;
that he should change his place, not his company. His conversa
tion was now, beforehand, with his God and his holy angels ; the
only difference was, that he was now going to a more free and
full fruition of the Lord of life in that region of glory above,
whom he had truly, though with weakness and imperfection,
enjoyed in this vale of tears. Section VI.
Now, that these mutual respects may be sure not to cool with
" Dr. Preston [died 1628J ,

Sect. VI.J The Devout Soul. 509
intermission, the devout heart takes all occasions both to think of
God and to speak to Him.
There is nothing that he sees which doth not bring God to his
thoughts. Indeed, there is no creature wherein there are not manifest
footsteps of omnipotence ; yea, which hath not a tongue to tell
us of its Maker : The heavens declare the glory of God, and the
firmament sheweth his handywork : one day telleth another,
and one night certifieth another Psalm, xix. i, 2. Yea, 0 Lord,
how manifold are thy works ! in wisdom hast thou made them
all. The earth is full of thy riches : so is the great and wide
sea, where are things creeping innumerable, both small and great
beasts. Psalm civ. 24, 25. Every herb, flower, spire of grass, every
twig and leaf, every worm and fly, every scale and feather, every
billow and meteor, speaks the power and wisdom of their infinite
Creator. Solomon sends the sluggard to the ant ; Isaiah sends
the Jews to the ox and the ass ; our Saviour sends his disciples
to the ravens, and to the lilies of the field. There is no creature
of whom we may not learn something. We shall have spent our
time ill in this great school of the world, if, in such store of lessons,
we be non-proficients in devotion.
Vain idolaters make to themselves images of God, whereby
they sinfully represent him to their thoughts and adoration.
Could they have the wit and grace to see it, God hath taken
order to spare them this labour, in that he hath stamped in every
creature such impressions of his infinite power, wisdom, goodness,
as may give us just occasion to worship and praise him with a
safe and holy advantage to our souls ; For the invisible things of
God from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being under
stood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and
Godhead, Rom. i. 20.
And, indeed, wherefore serve all the volumes of natural history
but to be so many commentaries upon the several creatures wherein
we may read God ? and even those men who have not the skill or
leisure to peruse them, may yet, out of their own thoughts and
observation, raise, from the sight of all the works of God, sufficient
matter to glorify him. Who can be so stupid as not to take no
tice of the industry of the bee, the providence of the ant, the
cunning of the spider, the reviving of the fly, the worm's en
deavour of revenge, the subtlety of the fox, the sagacity of the
hedgehog, the innocence and profitableness of the sheep, the

510 The Devout Soul.
laboriousness of the ox, the obsequiousness of the dog, the
timorous shifts of the hare, the nimbleness of the deer, the
generosity of the lion, the courage of the horse, the fierceness of
the tiger, the cheerful music of birds, the harmlessness of the
dove, the true love of the turtle, the cock's observation of time,
the swallow's architecture ; shortly — for it were easy here to be
endless — of the several qualities and dispositions of every of those
our fellow creatures with whom we converse on the face of the
earth ? and who that takes notice of them cannot fetch from every
act and motion of theirs some monition of duty and occasion of
devout thoughts ?
Surely, I fear many of us Christians may justly accuse ourselves
as too neglective of our duty this way ; that, having thus long
spent our time in this great academy of the world, we have not,
by so many silent documents, learned to ascribe more glory to our
Creator. I doubt those creatures, if they could exchange their
brutality with our reason, being now so docible as to learn of us
so far as their sense can reach, would approve themselves better
scholars to us than we have been unto them.
Withal, I must add, that the devout soul stands not always in
need of such outward monitors; but finds within itself sufficient
incitements to raise up itself to a continual minding of God, and
makes use of them accordingly : and- if at any time, being taken
up with importunate occasions of the world, it finds God missing
but an hour, it chides itself for such neglect ; and sets itself to re
cover him with so much more eager affection: as the faithful
spouse in the Canticles, when she finds him whom her soul loved
withdrawn from her for a season, puts herself into a speedy search
after him ; and gives not over till she have attained his presence ;
Cant. v. 6. Section VII.
Now, as these many monitors, both outward and inward, must
elevate our hearts very frequently to God ; so those raised hearts
must not entertain him with a dumb contemplation, but must
speak to him in the language of spirits.
All occasions, therefore, must be taken, of sending forth pious
and heavenly ejaculations to God. The devout soul may do this
more than an hundred times a day, without any hinderance to his
special vocation. The housewife at her wheel, the weaver at his
loom, the husbandman at his plough, the artificer in his shop, the

Sect. VII.] The Devout Soul. 511
traveller in his way, the merchant in his warehouse, may thus en
joy God in his busiest employment : for the soul of man is a
nimble spirit, and the language of thoughts need not take up time ;
and though we now, for example's sake, clothe them in words,
yet in our practice we need not.
Now these ejaculations may be either at large or occasional.
At large : such as that of old Jacob ; 0 Lord, I have waited
for thy salvation : or that of David ; O, save me for thy
mercy's sake,
And these, either in matter of humiliation or of imploration or
of thanksgiving. In all which we cannot follow a better pattern
than the sweet singer of Israel, whose heavenly conceptions we
may either borrow or imitate.
In way of humiliation : such as these : Heal my soul, 0 Lord ;
for I have sinned against thee; Psalm xii. 4. 0 remember not my
old sins, but have mercy upon me; lxxix. 8. If thou wilt be ex
treme to mark what is done amiss, 0 Lord, who may abide it ?
cxxx. 3. Lord, thou knowest the thoughts of man, that they are
but vain ; xciv. 11. 0 God, why abhorrest thou my soul, and
hidest thy face from me ? lxxxviii. 14.
In way of imploration ; Up, Lord, and help me, 0 God; iii. 7.
0, let my heart be sound in thy statutes, that I be not ashamed ;
cxix. 86. Lord, where are thy old loving mercies ? lxxxix. 48.
O, deliver me; for I am helpless, and my heart is wounded
within me ; cix. 2 1 . Comfort the soul of thy servant ; for unto
thee, 0 Lord, do I lift up my soul; lxxxvi. 4. Go not far from
me, O God ; lxxi. 10. O, knit my heart unto thee, that I may
fear thy name: lxxxvi. 11. Thou art my helper and redeemer,
0 Lord, make no long tarrying ; lxx. 6. 0, be thou my
help in trouble; for vain is the help of man; Ix. 11. 0, guide
me with thy counsel; and, after that, receive me to thy glory ;
lxxiii. 23. My time is in thy hand : deliver me from the hands
of mine enemies; xxxi. 17. 0, withdraw not thy mercy from
me, 0 Lord; xl. 14. Lead me, 0 Lord, in thy righteousness,
because of mine enemies ; ver. 8. 0, let my soul live, and it shall
praise thee; cxix. 175.
In way of thanksgiving : 0 God, wonderful art thou in thy
holy places; lxviii. 35. 0 Lord, how glorious are thy works!
and thy thoughts are very deep; xcii. 5. 0 God, who is like
unto thee? lxxi. 17. The Lord liveth; and blessed be my
strong helper; xviii 47. Lord, thy lovingkindness is better

512 The Devout Soul.
than life itself; Ixiii. 4. All thy works praise thee, 0 Lord ;
and thy saints give thanks unto thee ; cxiv. 1 o. 0. how mani
fold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all;
civ. 24. Who is God, but the Lord ; and who hath any strength,
except our God? xviii. 31. We will rejoice in thy salvation,
and triumph in thy name, 0 Lord ; xx. 5. 0 that men would
praise the Lord for his goodness ; cvii. 8. 0, how plentiful is
thy goodness, which thou hast laid up for them that fear thee !
xxxi. 21. Thou, Lord, hast never failed them that seek thee;
ix. 10. In thy presence is the fulness of joy ; and at thy right
hand there is pleasure for evermore; xvi. 12. Lord, what is
man, that thou art mindful of him ? viii. 4. Not unto us, Lord,
not unto us ; but unto thy name give the praise ; cxv. 1 .
Section VIII.
Occasional ejaculations are such as are moved upon the presence
of some such object as carries a kind of relation or analogy to that
holy thought which we have entertained.
Of this nature I find that which was practised in St. Basil's
time ; that upon the lighting of candles the manuer was to bless
God in these words, " Praise be to God the Father, and the Son,
and the Holy Ghost ;" which that father says was anciently used :
but who was the author of it he professeth to be unknown. To
the same purpose was the Lucernarium, which was a part of the
evening office of old. For which there may seem to be more co
lour of reason than for the ordinary fashion of apprecation upon
occasion of our sneezing; which is expected and practised by
many, out of civility : old and reverend Beza was wont to move
his hat with the rest of the company ; but to say withal, " Gra-
mercy, Madam la Superstition."
Now, howsoever in this, or any other practice, which may seem
to carry with it a smack of superstition, our devotion may be
groundless and unseasonable ; yet nothing hinders but that we
may take just and holy hints of raising up our hearts to our God.
As when we do first look forth, and see the heavens over our
heads, to think ; The heavens declare thy glory, 0 God ; Psalm
xix. 1 : when we see the day breaking, or the sun rising ; The
day is thine, and the night is thine ; thou hast prepared the light
and the sun ; lxxiv. 1 7 : when the light shines in our faces ; Thou
deckest thyself with light, as with a garment ; civ. 2 : or, Light
is sjrrung up for the righteous ; xcvii. 1 1 : when we see our gar-

Sect. IX.] . The Devout Soul. 513
den embellished with flowers ; The earth is full of the goodness
ofthe Lord; xxxiii. 5 : when we see a rough sea, The waves of
the sea rage horribly, and are mighty ; but the Lord, that dweii
eth on high, is mightier than they ; xciii. 4 : when we see the
darkness of the night ; The darkness is no darkness unto thee ;
cxxxix. 1 2 : when we rise up from our bed or our seat, Lord thou
knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest
my thoughts afar off; cxxxix. 1, 2: when we wash our hands;
Wash thou me 0 Lord, and I shall be whiter than snow ; li. 7 :
when we are walking forth ; 0, hold thou up my goings in thy
patlis, that my footsteps slip not; xvii. 5 : when we hear a
passing bell ; 0, teach me to number my days, that I may apply
my heart to wisdom ; xc. 12: or, Lord, let me know mine end,
and thenumber of my days; xxxix. 5.
Thus may we dart out our holy desires to God upon all occa
sions. Wherein, heed must be taken, that our ejaculations be not,
on the one side, so rare, that our hearts grow to be hard and
strange to God ; but that they may be held on, in continual ac
knowledgment of him, and acquaintance with him : and, on the
other side, that they be not so over-frequent in their perpetual
reiteration, as that they grow to be like that of the Romish vo
taries, fashionable ; which if great care be not taken will fall out,
to the utter frustrating of our devotion. Shortly, let the measure
of these devout glances be, the preserving our hearts in a con
stant tenderness and godly disposition ; which shall be further ac
tuated upon all opportunities, by the exercises of our more en
larged and fixed devotion : whereof there is the same variety that
there is in God's services about which it is conversant.
There are three main businesses wherein God accounts his ser
vice here below to consist. The first is, our address to the throne
of grace, and the pouring out of our souls before him in our
prayers ; the second is, the reading and hearing his most holy
word ; the third is, the receipt of his blessed sacraments : in all
which there is place and use for a settled devotion.
Section IX.
To begin with the first work of our actual and enlarged de
votion. Some things are prerequired of us, to make us capable of the
comfortable performance of so holy and heavenly a duty ; namely,
That the heart be clean first, and then that it be clear ; clean
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. L 1

514 The Devout Soul.
from the defilement of any known sin ; clear from all entangle
ments and distractions.
What do we in our prayers, but converse with the Almighty ;
and either carry our souls up to him, or bring him down to us ?
Now, it is no hoping that we can entertain God in an impure
heart. Even we men loath a nasty and sluttish lodging : how
much more will the holy God abhor an habitation spiritually
filthy ! I find, that even the unclean spirit made that a motive
of his repossession, that he found the house swept and garnished,
Luke xi. 25. Satan's cleanliness is pollution, and his garnish
ment disorder and wickedness : without this he finds no welcome.
Each spirit looks for an entertainment answerable to his nature:
how much more will that God of spirits, who is purity itself,
look to be harboured in a cleanly room ! Into a malicious soul
wisdom shall not enter ; nor dwell in the body that is subject
unto sin, Wisd. i. 4.
What friend would be pleased that we should lodge him in
a lazar-house? or who would abide to have a toad lie in his
bosom 1 Surely, it is not in the verge of created nature to yield
any thing that can be so noisome and odious to the sense of man,
as sin is to that absolute and essential goodness. His pure eyes
cannot endure the sight of sin : neither can he endure that the
sinner should come within the sight of him : Away from me, ye
wicked, is his charge both here and hereafter.
It is the privilege and happiness of the pure in heart that they
shall see God : see him both in the end and in the way ; enjoying
the vision of him both in grace and in glory. This is no object
for impure eyes.
Descend into thyself therefore, and ransack thy heart, who
ever wouldst be a true client of devotion : search all the close
windings of it with the torches of the law of God ; and if there
be any iniquity found lurking in the secret corners thereof, drag
it out and abandon it : and when thou hast done, that thy fingers
may retain no pollution, say, with the holy Psalmist, I will wash
my hands in innoceucy : so will I go to thine altar, Ps. xxvi. 6.
Presume not to approach the altar of God, there to offer the
sacrifice of thy devotion with unclean hands : else thine offering
shall be so far from winning an acceptance for thee from the
hands of God, as that thou shalt make thine offering abominable.
And ifa beast touch the mount it shall die.
As the soul must be clean from sin, so it must be clear and
free from distractions.

Sect. X.] The Devout Soul. 515
The intent of our devotion is, to welcome God to our hearts :
now where shall we entertain him if the rooms be full ; thronged
with cares and turbulent passions? the Spirit of God will not
endure to be crowded up together with the world in our strait
lodgings : an holy vacuity must make way for hira in our bosoms.
The divine pattern of devotion, in whora the Godhead dw^lt
bodily, retires into the mount to pray : he that carried heaven
with him, would even thus leave the world below him. Alas !
how can we hope to mount up to heaven in our thoughts, if we
have the clogs of earthly cares hanging at our heels ?
Yea, not only must there be a shutting out of all distractive
cares and passions, which are professed enemies to our quiet con
versing with God in our devotion ; but there must be also a de
nudation of the mind from all those images of our phantasy, how
pleasing soever, that may carry our thoughts aside from those
better objects. We are like to foolish children; who, when they
should be steadfastly looking on their books, are apt to gaze
after every butterfly that passeth by them. Here must be there
fore a careful intention of our thoughts ; a restraint from all vain
and idle rovings ; and an holding ourselves close to our divine task.
While Martha is troubled about many things, her devouter sister,
having chosen the better part, plies the one thing necessary,
which shall never be taken from her ; and while Martha would
feast Christ with bodily fare, she is feasted of Christ with hea
venly delicacies. Section X.
After the heart is thus cleansed and thus cleared, it must be in
the next place decked with true humility ; the cheapest, yet best
ornament of the soul.
If the Wise Man tells us, thai pride is the beginning of sin,
Ecclus. x. i^; surely all gracious dispositions must begin in hu
mility. The foundation of all high and stately buildings must
be laid low. They are the lowly valleys that soak in the showers
of heaven ; which the steep hills shelve off, and prove dry and
fruitless : To that man will I look, saith God, that is poor, and
of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word, Is. lxvi. 2.
Hence it is, that the more eminent any man is in grace, the
more he is dejected in the sight of God. The father of the faithful
comes to God under the style of dust and ashes, Gen. xviii. 27 :
David, under the style of a worm and no man; Psalm xxii, 6 :
Agur, the son of Jakeh, under the title of more brutish than
l 1 2

516 The Devout Soul.
any man ; and one that hath not the understandiny of a man,
Prov. xxx. 2 : John Baptist, as not worthy to carry the shoes of
Christ after him, Matth. iii. ii : Paul, as the least of saints,
and chief of sinners, Eph. iii. 8, i Tim. i. 15.
On the contrary, the more vile any man is in his own eyes,
and the more dejected in the sight of God, the higher he is
exalted in God's favour : like as the conduit water, by how much
lower it falls, the higher it riseth.
When therefore we would appear before God in our solemn
devotions, we must see that we empty ourselves of all proud con
ceits; and find our hearts fully convinced of our own vileness,
yea, nothingness in his sight. Down, down with all our high
thoughts : fall we low, before our great and holy God ; not to
the earth only, but to the very brim of hell, in the conscience of
our own guiltiness : for though the miserable wretchedness of our
nature may be a sufficient cause of our humiliation, yet the con
sideration of our detestable sinfulness is that which will depress
us lowest in the sight of God. Section XII.
It is fit the exercise of our devotion should begin in an humble
confession of our unworthiness.
Now, for the effectual furtherance of this our self-dejection,
it will be requisite to bend our eyes upon a threefold object:
to look inward, into ourselves ; upward, to heaven ; downward, to
hell. First, to turn our eyes into our bosoms ; and to take a view,
not without a secret self-loathing, of that world of corruption that
had lien hidden there : and thereupon to accuse, arraign, and
condemn ourselves before that awful tribunal of the Judge of
heaven and earth ; both of that original pollution, which we have
drawn from the tainted loins of our first parents, and those innu
merable actual wickednesses derived therefrom, which have stained
our persons and lives. How can we be but throughly humbled
to see our souls utterly overspread with the odious and abomi
nable leprosy of sin? We find that Uzziah bore up stoutly
a while against the priests of the Lord in the maintenance of his
sacrilegious presumption : but when he saw himself turned lazar,
on the sudden he is confounded in himself, and in a depth of
shame hastens away from the presence of God to a sad and peni
tential retiredness. We should need no other arguments to loathe

Sect. XII.] The Devout Soul. 517
ourselves than the sight of our own faces, so miserably deformed
with the nasty and hateful scurf of our iniquity.
Neither only must we be content to shame and grieve our eyes
with the foul nature and condition of our sins, but we must repre
sent them to ourselves in all the circumstances that may aggra
vate their heinousness : " Alas ! Lord, any one sin is able to
damn a soul : I have committed many ; yea, numberless : they
have not possessed me single ; but, as that evil spirit said, their
name is legion. Neither have I committed these sins once, but
often : thine angels, that were, sinned but once, and are damned
for ever : I have frequently reiterated the same offences : where
then, were it not for thy mercy, shall 1 appear ? Neither have I
only done them in the time of my ignorance, but since I received
sufficient illumination from thee : it is not in the dark that I have
stumbled and fallen, but in the midst of the clear hght and sun
shine of the gospel, and in the very face of thee my God. Nei
ther have these been the slips of my weakness, but the bold mis
carriages of my presumption. Neither have I offended out of
inconsideration and inadvertency, but after and against the checks
of a remurmuring conscience ; after so many gracious warnings
and fatherly admonitions ; after so many fearful examples of thy
judgments ; after so infinite obligations of thy favours."
And thus having looked inward into ourselves, and taken an
impartial view of our own vileness, it will be requisite to cast our
eyes upward unto heaven, and there to see against whom we
have offended ; even against an infinite Majesty and Power, an
infinite Mercy, an infinite Justice : that Power and Majesty which
hath spread out the heavens as a curtain; and hath laid the
foundations of the earth so sure that it cannot be moved ; who
hath shut up the sea with bars and doors, and said, Hitherto
shalt thou come and no further ; and here shalt thou stay thy
proud waves, Psalm civ. 2 ; Job xxxviii. 8-1 1 : who doeth what
soever he will in heaven and in earth ; who commandeth the
devils to their chains ; able, therefore, to take infinite vengeance
on sinners : that mercy of God the Father, who gave his own
Son out of his bosom for our redemption : that mercy of God the
Son, who, thinking it no robbery to be equal unto God, for our
sakes made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the
form of a servant; and, being found in fashion as a man, hum
bled himself, and became obedient to the death, even the accursed
death ofthe cross, .Phil. ii. 6, 7, 8 : that mercy of God the Holy

518 Tlie Devout Soul.
Ghost, who hath made that Christ mine, and hath sealed to my
soul the benefit of that blessed redemption: lastly, that justice
of God, which, as it is infinitely displeased with every sin, so will
be sure to take infinite vengeance on every impenitent sinner.
And from hence it will be fit and seasonable for the devout
soul to look downward into that horrible pit of eternal confusion ;
and there to see the dreadful, unspeakable, unimagiuable tor
ments of the damned : to represent unto itself the terrors of those
everlasting burnings ; the fire and brimstone of that infernal to
phet; the merciless and unweariable tyranny of those hellish
executioners ; the shrieks and howlings and gnashing of the tor
mented; the unpitiable, interminable, unmitigable, tortures of
those ever-dying and yet never-dying souls. By all which we
shall justly affright ourselves into a deep sense of the dangerous
and woful condition wherein we lie in the state of nature and
impenitence ; and shall be driven with an holy eagerness to seek
for Christ, the Son of the ever-living God, our blessed Mediator ;
in and by whom only we can look for the remission of all these our
sins ; a reconcilement with this most powerful, merciful, just God ;
and a deliverance of our souls from the hand of the nethermost
hell. Section XIII.
It shall not now need or boot, to bid the soul, which is truly
apprehensive of all these, to sue importunately to the Lord of
Life for a freedom and rescue from these infinite pains of eternal
death, to which our sins have forfeited it, and for a present happy
recovery of that favour which is better than life. Have we heard,
or can we imagine, some heinous malefactor, that hath received
the sentence of death, and is now bound hand and foot, ready to
he cast into a den of lions or a burning furnace, with what strong
cries and passionate obsecrations he plies the judge for mercy 1
we may then conceive some little image of the vehement suit and
strong cries of a soul truly sensible of the danger of God's wrath
deserved by his sin, and the dreadful consequents of deserved
imminent damnation : although, what proportion is there betwixt
a weak creature and the Almighty ? betwixt a moment and
eternity ?
Hereupon, therefore, follows a vehement longing, uncapable of
a denial, after Christ ; and fervent aspirations to that Saviour, by
whom only we receive a full and gracious deliverance from death

Sect. XIV. The Devout Soul. 519
and hell, and a full pardon and remission of all our sins : and, if
this come not the sooner, strong knockings at the gates of heaven,
even so loud, that the Father of mercies cannot but hear and open.
Never did any contrite soul beg of God that was not prevented by
his mercy ; much more doth he condescend, when he is strongly
entreated. Our very entreaties are from him ; he puts into us
those desires which he graciously answers. Now, therefore, doth
the devout soul see the God of all comfort to bow the heavens,
and come down with healing in his wings ; and hear him speak
peace unto the heart thus thoroughly humbled : Fear not : thou
shalt not die, but live. Be of good cheer : thy sins are forgiven
thee. Here therefore comes in that divine grace of faith, effectu
ally apprehending Christ the Saviour, and his infinite satisfaction
and merits ; comfortably applying all the sweet promises of the
gospel ; clinging close to that all-sufficient Redeemer ; and in his
most perfect obedience emboldening itself to challenge a freedom
of access to God, and confidence of appearance before the tribunal
of heaven. And now the soul, clad with Christ's righteousness,
dares look God in the face ; and can both challenge and triumph
over all the powers of darkness ; for, being justified by faith, we
have peace with God through Jesus Christ our Lord, Rom. v. i .
Section XIV.
By how much deeper the sense of our misery and danger is,
so much more welcome and joyful is the apprehension of our de
liverance ; and so much more thankful is our acknowledgment of
that unspeakable mercy. The soul therefore that is truly sensible
of this wonderful goodness of its God, as it feels a marvellous joy in
itself, so it cannot but break forth into cheerful and holy, though
secret gratulations : The Lord is full of compassion and mercy,
longsuffering, and qf great goodness ; he keepeth not his anger
for ever : he hath not dealt with me after my sins, nor rewarded
me after my iniquities, Ps. ciii. 8 — 10. What shall I render
unto the Lord for all his benefits towards me ? I will take the
cup qf salvation, and call upon the name ofthe Lord, cxvi. 11,12.
/ will thank thee ; for thou hast heard me, and hast not given
me over to death; but art become my salvation, cxviii. 18, 21.
0, speak good of the Lord, all ye works of his : praise thou the
Lord, O my soul, ciii. 22.
The more feelingly the soul apprehends, and the more thank
fully it digests the favours of God in its pardon and deliverance,

520 The Devout Soul.
the more freely doth the God of mercy impart himself to it ; and
the more God imparts himself to it, the more it loves him, and
the more heavenly acquaintance and entireness grows betwixt
God and it. And now, that love which was but a spark at first
grows into a flame, and wholly takes up the soul. This fire of
heavenly love in the devout soul is and must be heightened more
and more by the addition of the holy incentives of divine thoughts
concerning the means of our freedom and deliverance.
And here offers itself to us that bottomless abyss of mercy in
our redemption, wrought by the eternal Son of God, Jesus Christ
the just, by whose stripes we are healed, by whose blood we are
ransomed ; where none will befit us but admiring and adoring
notions. We shall not disparage yon, 0 ye blessed angels and archangels
of heaven, if we shall say, ye are not able to look into the bottom
of this divine love, wherewith God so loved the world, that he
gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him
should not perish, but have everlasting life, John iii. 16. None,
0 none can comprehend this mercy but he that wrought it.
Lord, what a transcendent, what an infinite love is this ! what
an object was this, for thee to love ! a world of sinners ! im
potent, wretched creatures, that had despited thee; that had
no motive for thy favour but deformity, misery, professed enmity !
It had been mercy enough in thee, that thou didst not damn the
world ; but that thou shouldest love it, is more than mercy. It
was thy great goodness to forbear the acts of just vengeance to
the sinful world of man ; but, to give unto it tokens of thy love is
a favour beyond all expression. The least gift from thee had
been more than the world could hope for ; but that thou shouldest
not stick to give thine only begotten Son, the Son of thy love,
the Son of thine essence, thy co-equal, co-eternal Son, who
was more than ten thousand worlds, to redeem this one forlorn
world of sinners, is love above all comprehension of men and
angels. What diminution had it been to thee and thine essential
glory, 0 thou great God of heaven, that the souls that sinned
should have died and perished everlastingly ? yet, so infinite was
thy loving mercy, that thou wouldest rather give thine only Son
out of thy bosom, than that there should not be a redemption for
believers. Yet, 0 God, hadst thou sent down thy Son to this lower region
of earth upon such terms, as that he might have brought down

Sect. XVI. The Devout Soul. 521
heaven with him ; that he might have come in the port and
majesty of a God, clothed with celestial glory, to have dazzled
our eyes, and to have drawn all hearts unto him; this might have
seemed, in some measure, to have sorted with his divine magni
ficence : but thou wouldest have him to appear in the wretched
condition of our humanity. Yet, even thus, hadst thou sent him
into the world in the highest estate and pomp of royalty that
earth could afford ; that all the kings and monarchs of the world
should have been commanded to follow his train and to glitter in
his court ; and that the knees of all the potentates of the earth
should have bowed to his Sovereign Majesty, and their lips have
kissed his dust ; this might have carried some kind of appearance
of a state next to divine greatness : but thou wouldest have him
come in the despised form of a servant.
And thou, 0 blessed Jesu, wast accordingly willing, for our
sakes, to submit thyself to nakedness, hunger, thirst, weariness,
temptation, contempt, betraying, agonies, scorn, buffetings, scourg-
ings, distension, crucifixion, death : O love above measure, with
out example, beyond admiration ! Greater love, thou sayest, hath
no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends ;
but, 0, what is it then, that thou, who wert God and man, should
est lay down thy life, more precious than many worlds, for thine
enemies ?
Yet, had it been but the laying down of a life in a fair and
gentle way, there might have been some mitigation of the sorrow
of a dissolution. There is not more difference betwixt life and
death, than there may be betwixt some one kind of death and
another. Thine, 0 dear Saviour, was the painful, shameful,
cursed death of the cross ; wherein yet all that man could do unto
thee was nothing to that inward torment, which, in our stead,
thou enduredst from thy Father's wrath ; when, in the bitterness
of thine anguished soul, thou criedst out, My God, my God, why
hast thou forsaken me ? Even thus, thus wast thou content to be
forsaken, that we wretched sinners might be received to mercy :
O love, stronger than death which thou vanquishedst ! more high
than that hell is deep from which thou hast rescued us !
Section XVI.
The sense of this infinite love of God cannot choose but ravish
the soul, and cause it to go out of itself into that Saviour who
hath wrought so mercifully for it : so as it may be nothing in

522 The Devout Soul.
itself, but what it hath, or is, may be Christ's. By the sweet
powers, therefore, of faith and love, the soul finds itself united
unto Christ feelingly, effectually, indivisibly : so as that it is not
to be distinguished betwixt the acts of both. To me to live is
Christ, saith the blessed apostle, Phil. i. 21 ; and elsewhere, /
live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me : and the life which I
now live in the flesh I live by the faith ofthe Son of God, who
loved me, and gave himself for me, Gal. ii. 20. My beloved is
mine, and I am his, saith the Spouse of Christ, in her bridal
song, Cant. ii. 16. 0 blessed union, next to the hypostatical,
whereby the human nature of the Son of God is taken into the
participation of the eternal Godhead !
Section XVII.
Out of the sense of this happy union ariseth an unspeakable
complacency and delight of the soul in that God and Saviour who
is thus inseparably ours, and by whose union we are blessed ; and
an high appreciation of him above all the world, and a contempt
uous under-valuation of all earthly things in comparison of him.
And this is no other than an heavenly reflection of that sweet
contentment which the God of mercies takes in the faithful soul :
Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse ; thou hast
ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, Cant. iv. 9. Thou
art beautiful, 0 my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem. Turn
away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me, vi. 4, 5.
How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse ! how much better is
thy love than wine ! and the smell of thine ointments than all
spices! iv. 10. And the soul answers him again, in the same
language of spiritual dearness : My beloved is ivhite and ruddy,
the chiefest among ten thousand, v. 10. Set me as a seal upon
thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm : for love is strong as
death, viii. 6 : and, as in an ecstatical qualm of passionate affection,
Stay me with flagons, and comfort me ivith apples : for I am
sick of love, ii. 5. Section XVIII.
Upon this gracious complacency will follow an absolute self-
resignation, or giving up ourselves to the hands of that good God,
whose we are, and who is ours; and an humble contentedness
with his good pleasure in all things ; looking upon God with the
same face, whether he smile upon us in his favours, or chastise us

Sect. XIX.] The Devout Soul. 523
with his loving corrections. If he speak good unto us ; Behold
the servant of the Lord : be it unto me according to thy word :
if evil ; It is the Lord ; let him do whatsoever he will. Here is
therefore a cheerful acquiescence in God ; and an hearty reliance,
and casting ourselves upon the mercy of so bountiful a God, who,
having given us his Son, can in and with him deny us nothing.
Section XIX.
Upon this subacted disposition of heart, will follow a familiar,
yet awful, compellation of God, and an emptying of our souls
before him in all our necessities. For that God, who is infinitely
merciful, yet will not have his favours otherwise conveyed to us
than by our supplications. The style of his dear ones is, His
people, that prayeth; and his own style is, The God, that heareth
prayers. To him therefore doth the devout heart pour out all his
requests, with all true humility, with all fervour of spirit, as know
ing that God will hear neither proud prayers nor heartless.
Wherein his holy desires are regulated by a just method ; first,
suing for spiritual favours, as most worthy ; then, for temporal,
as the appendances of better ; and, in both, aiming at the glory
of our good God, more than our own advantage. And in the
order of spiritual things, first and most for those that are most
necessary, and essential for our soul's health ; then for secondary
graces, that concern the prosperity and comfort of our spiritual
life : absolutely, craving those graces that accompany salvation ;
all others conditionally, and with reference to the good pleasure
of the munificent Giver.
Wherein heed must be taken that our thoughts be not so much
taken up with our expressions as with our desires ; and that we
do not suffer ourselves to languish into an unfeeling length and
repetition of our suits. Even the hands of a Moses may in time
grow heavy : so therefore must we husband our spiritual strength,
that our devotion may not flag with overtiring, but may be most
vigorous at the last. And as we must enter into our prayers
not without preparatory elevations, so must we be careful to
take a meet leave of God at their shutting up; following our
supplications with the pause of a faithful and most lowly adora
tion ; and, as it were, sending up our hearts into heaven, to see
how our prayers are taken, and raising them to a joyful expecta
tion of a gracious and successful answer from the Father of
mercies.

524 The Devout Soul.
Section XX.
Upon the comfortable feeling of a gracious condescent, follows
an happy fruition of God in all his favours : so as, we have not
them, so much as God in them ; which advanceth their worth a
thousand fold, and, as it were, brings down heaven upon us.
Whereas, therefore, the sensual man rests only in the mere use
of any blessing, as health, peace, prosperity, knowledge, and
reacheth no higher ; the devout soul, in and through all these,
sees and feels a God that sanctifies them to him, and enjoys
therein his favour, that is better than life. Even we men are
wont, out of our good nature, to esteem a benefit, not so much
for its own worth, as for the love and respect of the giver ; small
legacies, for this cause, find dear acceptation : how much more is
it so betwixt God and the devout soul ! It is the sweet apprehen
sion of this love that makes all his gifts blessings. Do we not see
some vain churl, though cried down by the multitude, herein
secretly applauding himself, that he hath bags at home? how
much more shall the godly man find comfort against all the
crosses of the world, that he is possessed of Him that possesseth
all things, even God all-sufficient ; the pledges of whose infinite
love he feels in all the whole course of God's deahng with him !
Section XXI.
Out of the true sense of this inward fruition of God, the devout
soul breaks forth into cheerful thanksgivings to the God of all
comfort ; praising him for every evil that it is free from, for every
good thing that it enjoyeth : for as it keeps a just inventory of all
God's favours, so it often spreads them thankfully before him,
and lays them forth, so near as it may, in the full dimensions ;
that so God may be no loser by him in any act of his bene
ficence. Here, therefore, every of God's benefits must come into ac
count ; whether eternal or temporal, spiritual or bodily, outward
or inward, public or private, positive or privative, past or present,
upon ourselves or others : in all which he shall humbly acknow
ledge both God's free mercy and his own shameful unworthiness ;
setting off the favours of his good God the more, with the foil of
his own confessed wretchedness, and unanswerableness to the least
of his mercies.
Now, as there is infinite variety of blessings from the liberal
hand of the Almighty, so there is great difference in tbeir de-

Sect. XXII.] The Devout Soul. 525
grees : for whereas there are three subjects of all the good we
are capable of ; the estate, body, soul ; and each of these does far
surpass other in value, the soul being infinitely more worth than
the body, and the body far more precious than the outward
estate : so the blessings that appertain to them, in several, differ
in their true estimation accordingly. If either we do not highly
magnify God's mercy for the least ; or shall set as high a price
upon the blessings that concern our estate as those that pertain
to the body, or upon bodily favours as upon those that belong to
the soul ; we shall show ourselves very unworthy and unequal
partakers of the divine bounty. But it will savour too much of
earth, if we be more affected with temporal blessings than with
spiritual and eternal. By how much nearer relation, then, any
favour hath to the fountain of goodness, and by how much more
it conduceth to the glory of God, and ours in him ; so much higher
place should it possess in our affection and gratitude.
No marvel therefore if the devout heart be raised above itself,
and transported with heavenly raptures, when, with Stephen's
eyes, it beholds the Lord Jesus standing at the right hand of
God ; fixing itself upon the consideration of the infinite merits of
his life, death, resurrection, ascension, intercession ; and finding
itself swallowed up in the depth of that divine love, from whence
all mercies flow into the soul : so as that it runs over with pas
sionate thankfulness ; and is therefore deeply affected with all
other his mercies, because they are derived from that boundless
ocean of divine goodness.
Unspeakable is the advantage that the soul raises to itself by
this continual exercise of thanksgiving : for the grateful acknow
ledgment of favours is the way to more. Even amongst men,
whose hands are short and strait, this is the means to pull on
further beneficence : how much more from the God of all conso
lation, whose largest bounty diminisheth nothing of his store !
And herein the devout soul enters into its heavenly task, be
ginning upon earth those hallelujahs which it shall perfect above
in the blessed choir of saints and angels ; ever praising God, and
saying, Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and
honour, and power, and might, be unto our God, for ever and
ever. Amen. Section XXII.
None of all the services of God can be acceptably, no not un-
sinfully performed, without due devotion. As therefore in our

526 The Devout Soul.
prayers and thanksgivings, so in the other exercises of divine
worship, especially in the reading and hearing of God's word,
and in our receipt of the blessed sacrament, it is so necessary,
that, without it, we offer to God a mere carcass of rehgious duty,
and profane that sacred name we would pretend to honour.
First then we must come to God's book, not without an holy
reverence, as duly considering both what and whose it is, even no
other than the word of the everliving God, by which we shall
once be judged. Great reason have we therefore to make a dif
ference betwixt it and the writings of the holiest men, even no
less than betwixt the authors of both. God is true; yea, truth
itself: and that wliich David said in his haste, St. Paul says in full
deliberation, Every man is a liar, Ps. cxvi. ii. Rom. iii. 4.
Before we put our hand to this sacred volume, it will be requi
site to elevate our hearts to that God whose it is, for both his
leave and his blessing. Open mine eyes, saith the sweet singer of
Israel, that I may behold the wondrous things of thy law, Ps.
cxix. 18. Lo, David's eyes were open before to other objects;
but when he comes to God's book, he can see nothing without a
new act of apertion : letters he might see, but wonders he could
not see, till God did unclose his eyes and enlighten them. It is
not therefore for us presumptuously to break in upon God, and
to think by our natural abilities to wrest open the precious
caskets of the Almighty, and to fetch out all his hidden treasure
thence at pleasure : but we must come tremblingly before him,
and, in all humility, crave his gracious admission.
I confess I find some kind of envy in myself, when I read of
those scrupulous observances of high respects given by the Jews
to the book of God's law ; and when I read of a Romish saintb
that never read the scripture but upon his knees ; and compare
it with the careless neglect whereof I can accuse myself and
perhaps some others. Not that we should rest in the formality
of outward ceremonies of reverence, wherein it were more easy to
be superstitious than devout ; but that our outward deportment
may testify and answer the awful disposition of our hearts.
Whereto we shall not need to be excited, if we be throughly
persuaded of the divine original and authority of that sacred
word. It was motive enough to the Ephesians, zealously to plead
for and religiously to adore the image of their Diana, that it was
the image that fell down from Jupiter, Acts xix. 35. Believe we
b Carolus Borromreus.

Sect. XXIII.] The Devout Soul. 527
and know that the scripture is inspired by God, and we can
entertain it with no other than an awful address ; and we cannot
be Christians if we do not so beheve.
Every clause therefore of that God-inspired volume must be, as
reverently received by us, so seriously weighed and carefully laid
up, as knowing that there is no tittle there without his use. What
we read, we must labour to understand : what we cannot understand
we must admire silently, and modestly inquire of. There are
plain truths, and there are deep mysteries. The bounty of God
hath left this well of living-water open for all : what runs over is
for all comers; but every one hath not wherewith to draw.
There is no Christian that may not enjoy God's book, but every
Christian may not interpret it. Those shallow fords that are in
it may be waded by every passenger; but there are deeps,
wherein he that cannot swim may drown. How can I, without
a guide? said that Ethiopian eunuch. Wherefore serves the
tongue of the learned, but to direct the ignorant? Their modesty
is of no less use than the others' skill. It is a woful condition of
a church when no man will be ignorant.
What service can our eyes do us in the ways of God without
our thoughts? Our diligent and frequent reading, therefore, must
be attended with our holy meditation. We feed on what we read,
but we digest only what we meditate of. What is in our Bible is
God's, but that which is in our hearts is our own. By all which,
our care must be, net so much to become wiser, as to become
better, labouring still to reduce all things to godly practice.
Finally, as we enter into this task with the lifting up of our
hearts for a blessing, so we shut it up in the ejaculations of our
thanksgiving to that God who hath blessed us with the free use
of his word. Section XXIII.
Our eye is our best guide to God our Creator, but our ear is it
that leads us to God our Redeemer : How shall they believe ex
cept they hear ? Which that we may effectually do, our devotion
suggests unto us some duties before the act, some in the act, some
after the act.
It is the apostle's charge, That we should be swift to hear;
but heed must be taken that we make not more haste than good
speed. We may not be so forward as not to look to our foot when
we go to the house of God ; lest if we be too ready to hear, we
offer the sacrifice of fools, Eccl. v. i . What are the feet of the
soul but our affections ? If these be not set right, we may easily

528 The Devout Soul.
stumble and wrench at God's threshold. Rasii actions can never
hope to prosper. As therefore to every great work, so to this,
there is a due preparation required ; and this must be done by
meditation first, then by prayer.
Our meditation, first, sequesters the heart from the world, and
shakes off those distractive thoughts which may carry us away
from these better things. For what room is there for God where
the world hath taken up the lodging ? We cannot serve God and
mammon. Then, secondly, it seizes upon the heart for God ;
fixing our thoughts upon the great business we go about ; recalling
the greatness of that Majesty into whose presence we enter, and
the main importance of the service we are undertaking ; and ex
amining our intentions wherewith we address ourselves to the
work intended : " I am now going to God's house ; wherefore do I
go thither ? Is it to see or to be seen ? Is it to satisfy my own
curiosity in hearing what the preacher will say ? Is it to satisfy
the law, that requires my presence ? Is it to please others' eyes,
or to avoid their censures ? Is it for fashion ? Is it for recreation ?
Or is it with a sincere desire to do my soul good, in gaining more
knowledge, in quickening my affections ? Is it in a desire to ap
prove myself to my God in the conscience of my humble obedience
to his command, and my holy attendance upon his ordinance?"
And where we find our ends amiss, chiding and rectifying our ob
liquities ; where just and right, prosecuting them towards a further
perfection. Which that it may be done, our meditation must be seconded
by our prayers. It is an unholy rudeness to press into the pre
sence of that God whom we have not invoked. Our prayer must
be, that God would yet more prepare us for the work, and sanc
tify us to it, and bless us in it ; that he would remove our sins ;
that he would send down his Spirit into our hearts, which may
enable us to this great service; that he would bless the preacher
in the delivery of his sacred message ; that he would be pleased
to direct his messenger's tongue to the meeting with our necessi
ties; that he would free our hearts from all prejudices and dis
tractions ; that he would keep off all temptations which might
hinder the good entertainment and success of his blessed word ;
finally, that he would make us truly teachable, and his ordinance
the power of God to our salvation.
In the act of hearing, devotion calls us to reverence, attention,
application. Reverence to that great God who speaks to us by the mouth

Sect. XXIV.] The Devout Soul. 529
of a weak man : for, in what is spoken from God's chair agree
able to the scriptures, the sound is man's, the substance of the
message is God's. Even an Eglon, when he hears of a message
from God, riseth out of his seat, Judges iii. 20. It was not St.
Paul's condition only, but of all his faithful servants, to whom he
hath committed the word of reconciliation ; they are ambassadors
for Christ; as if God did beseech us by them, they pray us, in
Christ's stead, to be reconciled to God, 2 Cor. v. 20. The embassy
is not the bearer's, but the King's ; and if we do not acknowledge
the great King of heaven in the voice of the gospel, we cannot
but incur a contempt. When therefore we see God's messenger
in his pulpit, our eye looks at him, as if it said with Cornelius,
We are all here present before God, to hear all things that are
commanded thee of God, Acts x. 33. Whence cannot but follow,
together with an awful disposition of mind, a reverent deportment
of the body ; which admits not a wild and roving eye, a drowsy
head, a chatting tongue, a rude indecent posture ; but composes
itself to such a site as may best befit a pious soul in so religious
an employment. Neither do we come as authorized judges to sit
upon the preacher, but as humble disciples to sit at his feet.
Section XXIV.
Reverence cannot but draw on attention. We need not be
bidden to hang on the lips of him whom we honour. It is the
charge of the Spirit, Let him that hath an ear, hear : every one
hath not an ear; and of those that have an ear, every one
heareth not. The soul hath an ear as well as the body : if both
these ears do not meet together in one act, there is no hearing.
Common experience tells us, that when the mind is otherwise
taken up, we do no more hear what a man says, than if we had
been deaf or he silent. Hence is that first request of Abigail to
David, Let thine handmaid speak to thine ears, and hear the
words of thine handmaid, 1 Sam. xxv. 24 ; and Job so importu
nately urgeth his friends, Hear diligently my speech and my de
claration with your ears, Job xiii. 1 7 . The outward ear may be
open, and the inward shut ; if way be not made through both,
we are deaf to spiritual things : Mine ear hast thou bored, or
digged, saith the Psalmist ; the Vulgate reads it, My ears hast
thou perfected, Psalm xl. 6. Surely our ears are grown up with
flesh, there is no passage for a perfect hearing of the voice of God,
till he have made it by a spiritual perforation.
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. M m

530 The Devout Soul.
And now that the ear is made capable of good counsel, it doth
as gladly receive it ; taking in every good lesson, and longing for
the next : like unto the dry and chapped earth which soaks in
every silver drop that falls from the clouds, and thirsteth for
more, not suffering any of that precious liquor to fall beside it.
Section XXV.
Neither doth the devout man care to satisfy his curiosity, as
hearing only that he might hear ; but reducts all things to a
saving use, bringing all he hears home to his heart by a self-reflecting
application ; like a practiser of the art of memory, referring every
thing to its proper place. If it be matter of comfort : " There
is for my sick bed : there is for my outward losses : there, for my
drooping under afflictions : there, for the sense of my spiritual de
sertions." If matter of doctrine : " There is for my settlement in
such a truth : there, for the conviction of such an error : there,
for my direction in such a practice." If matter of reproof, he
doth not point at his neighbour, but deeply chargeth himself:
" This meets with my dead-heartedness and security : this, with
my worldly-mindedness : this, with my self-love, and flattery of
mine own estate : this, with my uncharitable censoriousness : this,
with my foolish pride of heart : this, with my hypocrisy : this,
with my neglect of God's services and my duty." Thus, in all
the variety of the holy passages of the sermon the devout mind is
taken up with digesting what it hears, and working itself to a se
cret improvement of all the good counsel that is delivered ; neither
is ever more busy than when it sits still at the feet of Christ.
I cannot therefore approve the practice, which yet I see com
monly received, of those who think it no small argument of their
devotion, to spend their time of hearing in writing large notes
from the mouth of the preacher ; which, however it may be an
help for memory in the future, yet cannot, as I conceive, but be
some prejudice to our present edification ; neither can the brain
get so much hereby as the heart loseth. If it be said, that by
this means an opportunity is given for a full rumination of whole
some doctrines afterwards ; I yield it, but, withal, I must say, that
our after-thoughts can never do the work so effectually as when
the lively voice sounds in our ears, and beats upon our heart : but
herein I submit my opinion to better judgments.
Section XXVI.
The food that is received into the soul by the ear is afterwards

Sect. XXVII.] The Devout Soul. 531
chewed in the mouth thereof by memory, concocted in the stomach
by meditation, and dispersed into the parts by conference and
practice. True devotion finds the greatest part of the work behind. It was
a just answer, that John Gerson0 reports, given by a Frenchman,
who, being asked by one of his neighbours if the sermon were
done; "No," saith he, "it is said, but it is not done, neither will
be, I fear, in haste." What are we the better, if we hear and
remember not? If we be such auditors as the Jews were wont to
call sieves, that retain no moisture that is poured into them ? What
the better, if we remember, but think not seriously of what we
hear; or if we practise not carefully what we think of? Not that
which we hear is our own, but that which we carry away.
Although all memories are not alike ; one receives more easily,
another retains longer. It is not for every one to hope to attain
to that ability, that he can go away with the whole fabric of a
sermon, and readily recount it unto others ; neither doth God re
quire that of any man which he hath not given him. Our desires
and endeavours may not be wanting where our powers fail. It
will be enough for weak memories if they can so lay up those
wholesome counsels which they receive, as that they may fetch
them forth when they have occasion to use them ; and that what
they want in the extent of memory they supply in the care of
their practice.
Indeed, that is it wherein lies the life of all religious duties,
and without which they are but idle formalities. That which the
philosopher said of all virtue, I must say of true godliness, that it
consists in action. Our Saviour did not say, Blessed are ye, if
you know these things ; but, If ye know these things, blessed are
ye if ye do them. The end of our desire of the sincere milk of the
gospel is, that we may grow thereby in the stature of all grace
unto the fulness of God, i Pet. ii. 2 ; Eph. iii. 19.
Section XXVII.
The highest of all God's services are his sacraments ; which
therefore require the most eminent acts of our devotion.
The sacrament of initiation, which in the first planting of a
church is administered only to those of riper age and under
standing, calls for all possible reverence, and religious addresses
c Serm. ad Eccles. Cautelam, [ad Eccles. Dom. 2 post Pasch. "Sermo utique
dictua sed non factus." Pars II. XLTI. Ed. 1514.]
M m 2

532 The Devout Soul.
of the receivers ; wherein the primitive times were punctually ob
servant, both for substance and ceremony : now, in a settled and
perpetuated church, in which the virtue of the covenant descends
from the parent to the child, there seems to be no use of our pre
paratory directions : only it is fit that our devotion should call
our eyes back to what we have done in our infancy, and whereto
we are ever obliged ; that our full age may carefully endeavour
to make our word good, and may put us in mind of our sinful
failings. That other sacrament of our spiritual nourishment, which our
Saviour, as his farewell, left us for a blessed memorial of his death
and passion, can never be celebrated with enough devotion.
Far be it from us to come to this feast of our God in our
common garments : the soul must be trimmed up, if we would be
meet guests for the Almighty. The great Master of the feast will
neither abide us to come naked nor ill clad. Away, therefore,
first, with the old beastly rags of our wonted corruptions. Due
examination comes in first, and throughly searches the soul,
and finds out all the secret nastiness and defilements that it hides
within it ; and, by the aid of true penitence, strips it of all those
loathsome clouts wherewith it was polluted. Sin may not be
clothed upon with grace. Joshua's filthy garments must be
plucked off, ere he can be capable of precious robes, Zech. iii. 4.
Here may be no place for our sinful lusts, for our covetous desires,
for our natural infidelity, for our mahcious purposes, for any of
our unhallowed thoughts.
The soul, clearly divested of these and all other known corrup
tions, must, in the next place, instead thereof, be furnished with
such graces and holy predispositions, as may fit it for so heavenly
a work. Amongst the graces requisite, faith justly challengeth the first
place ; as that which is both most eminent, and necessarily presup
posed to the profitable receipt of this sacrament; for, whereas the
main end of this blessed banquet is the strengthening of our faith,
how should that receive strength which hath not being ? To deliver
these sacred viands to an unbeliever is to put meat into the mouth
of a dead man. Now therefore must the heart raise up itself to
new acts of believing ; and must lay faster hold on Christ, and
bring him closer to the soul : more strongly applying to itself the
infinite merits of his most perfect obedience, and of his bitter
death and passion ; and erecting itself to a desire and expectation

Sect, xxviii.] The Devout Soul. 533
of a more vigorous and lively apprehension of its omnipotent Re
deemer. Neither can this faith be either dead or solitary ; but is
still really operative, and attended, as with other graces, so espe
cially with a serious repentance ; whose wonderful" power is to
undo our former sins, and to mould the heart and life to a better
obedience : a grace so necessary, that the want of it, as in extreme
corruption of the stomach, turns the wholesome food of the soul
into poison. An impenitent man therefore, coming to God's
board, is so far from benefiting himself, as that he eats his own
judgment. Stand off from this holy table all ye that have not
made your peace with your God, or that harbour any known sin
in your bosom : not to eat is uncomfortable, but to eat in such
a state is deadly : yet rest not in this plea, that ye cannot come
because ye are unreconciled ; but, as ye love your souls, be recon
ciled that you may come.
Another grace necessarily prerequired is charity to our bre
thren, and readiness to forgive ; for this is a communion, as with
Christ the head, so with all the members of his mystical body.
This is the true love-feast of God our Saviour, wherein we pro
fess ourselves inseparably united both to him and his. If there
be raore hearts than one at God's table, he will not own them.
These holy elements give us an emblem of ourselves ; this bread
is made up of many grains incorporated into one mass ; and this
wine is the confluent juice of many clusters : neither do we par
take of several loaves or variety of liquors ; but all eat of one
bread and drink of one cup. Here is then no place for rancour
and malice; none for secret grudgings and heartburnings : There
fore, if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest
that thy brother hath ought against thee, leave there thy gift, and
go thy way : first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and
offer thy gift ; Matt. v. 23, 24. Neither may we do as those two
emulous commanders of Greece did, who resolved to leave their
spite behind them at Mount Athos and to take it up again in
their return : here must be an absolute and free acquitting of all
the back-reckonings of our unkindness, that we may receive tho
God of peace into a clear bosom.
Section XXVIII.
Besides these graces, there are certain holy predispositions
so necessary, that without them our souls can never hope to re
ceive true comfort in this blessed sacrament.

534 The Devout Soul.
Whereof the first is an hungering and thirsting desire after these
gracious means of our salvation. What good will our meat do us
without an appetite ? Surely without it there is no expectation
of either relish or digestion. As therefore those that are invited
to some great feast care first to feed their hunger ere they feed
their body, labouring by exercise to get a stomach ere they em
ploy it ; so it concerns us to do here : and as those that are list
less and weak stomached are wont to whet their appetite with
sharp sauces ; so must we, by the tart applications of the law,
quicken our desires of our Saviour here exhibited. Could we but
see our sins, and our miseries by sin ; could we see God frowning,
and hell gaping wide to swallow us ; we should not need to be
bidden to long for our Deliverer : and every pledge of his favour
would be precious to us.
Upon the apprehension of our need of a Saviour, and so happy
a supply thereof presented unto us, must needs follow a renewed
act of true thankfulness of heart to our good God, that hath
both given us his dear Son to work our redemption, and his
blessed sacrament to seal up unto us our redemption, thus
wrought and purchased.
And with souls thus thankfully elevated unto God, we approach,
with all reverence, to that heavenly table, where God is both the
feast-master and the feast. What intention of holy thoughts,
what fervour of spirit, what depth of devotion, must we now find
in ourselves ! Doubtless, out of heaven no object can be so worthy
to take up our hearts.
What a clear representation is here of the great work of our
redemption ! How is my Saviour, by all my senses, here brought
home to my soul ! How is his passion lively acted before mine
eyes ! for lo, my bodily eye doth not more truly see bread and
wine, than the eye of my faith sees the body and blood of my dear
Redeemer: thus was his sacred body torn and broken; thus
was his precious blood poured out for me. My sins, wretched
man that I am ! helped thus to crucify my Saviour ; and for the
discharge of my sins would he be thus crucified.
Neither did he only give himself for me upon the cross ; but
lo, ho both offers and gives himself to me in this his blessed in
stitution. What had this general gift been without this application ? Now,
my hand doth not more sensibly take, nor my mouth more really
cat this bread, than my soul doth spiritually receive and feed

Sect. XXVIII.] The Devout Soul. 535
on the bread of life. 0 Saviour, thou art the living bread that
came down from heaven. Thy flesh is meat indeed, and thy blood
is drink indeed. 0 that I may so eat of this bread that I may
live for ever ! He that cometh to thee shall never hunger : he
that believeth in thee shall never thirst. 0 that I could now
so hunger and so thirst for thee, that my soul could be for ever
satisfied with thee ! Thy people of old were fed with manna in
the wilderness, yet they died ; that food of angels could not keep
them from perishing : but 0, for the hidden manna, which giveth
life to the world, even thy blessed self! Give me ever of this
bread, and my soul shall not die, but live.
O, the precious juice of the fruit of the vine, wherewith thou
refreshest my soul ! Is this the blood of the grape ? Is it not ra
ther thy blood of the new testament that is poured out for me ?
Thou speakest, 0 Saviour, of new wine, that thou wouldest drink
with thy disciples, in thy Father's kingdom : can there be any
more precious and pleasant than this, wherewith thou cheerest
the believing soul ? Our palate is now dull and earthly, which
shall then be exquisite and celestial : but surely no liquor can be
of equal price or sovereignty with thy blood. 0, how unsavoury
are all earthly delicacies to this heavenly draught ! 0 God, let not
the sweet taste of this spiritual nectar ever go out of the mouth
of my soul. Let the comfortable warmth of this blessed cordial
ever work upon my soul ; even till, and in the last moment of my
dissolution. Dost thou bid me, 0 Saviour, do this in remembrance of thee ?
0, how can I forget thee ? how can I enough celebrate thee, for
this thy unspeakable mercy ? Can I see thee thus crucified before
my eyes, and for my sake thus crucified, and not remember thee ?
Can I find my sins accessary to this thy death, and thy death meri
toriously expiating all these my grievous sins, and not remember
thee ? Can I hear thee freely offering thyself to me, and feel thee
graciously conveying thyself into my soul, and not remember
thee ? I do remember thee, 0 Saviour : but 0 that I could yet
more effectually remember thee; with all the passionate affec
tions of a soul sick of thy love ; with all zealous desires to glorify
thee ; with all fervent longings after thee and thy salvation ! I
remember thee in thy sufferings ; 0, do thou remember me in
thy glory.

536 The Devout Soul.
Section XXIX.
Having thus busied itself with holy thoughts in the time of the
celebration, the devout soul breaks not off in an abrupt unmanner-
liness, without taking leave of the great Master of this heavenly
feast ; but, with a secret adoration, humbly blesseth God for so
great a mercy, and heartily resolves and desires to walk worthy
ofthe Lord Jesus, whom it hath received; and to consecrate it
self wholly to the service of him that hath so dearly bought it,
and hath given it these pledges of its eternal union with him.
The devout soul hath thus supped in heaven, and returns
home ; yet the work is not thus done ; after the elements are out
of eye and use, there remains a digestion of this celestial food
by holy meditation.
And now it thinks, 0 what a blessing have I received to-day !
no less than my Lord Jesus with all his merits ; and, in and with
him, the assurance of the remission of all sins, and everlasting
salvation. How happy am I, if I be not wanting to God and
myself ! How unworthy shall I be, if I do not strive to answer
this love of my God and Saviour in all hearty affection and in all
holy obedience !
And now, after this heavenly repast, how do I feel myself?
what strength, what advantage hath my faith gotten ? how
much am I nearer to heaven than before ? how much faster
hold have I taken of my blessed Redeemer ? how much more
firm and sensible is my interest in him ?
Neither are these thoughts and this examination the work of
the next instant only ; but they are such as must dwell upon the
heart, and must often solicit our memory and excite our practice ;
that by this means we may frequently renew the efficacy of this
blessed sacrament ; and our souls may batten more and more with
this spiritual nourishment, and may be fed up to eternal life.
Section XXX.
These are the generalities of our devotion, which are of com
mon use to all Christians. There are, besides these, certain
specialties of it appliable to several occasions, times, places, per
sons : for there are morning and evening devotions : devotions
proper to our board, to our closet, to our bed ; to God's day, to
our own; to health, to sickness; to several callings, to recreations;
to the way, to the field ; to the church, to our home ; to the

Sect. XXX.] The Devout Soul. 537
student, to the soldier ; to the magistrate, to the minister ; to the
husband, wife, child, servant ; to our own persons, to our families :
the severalties whereof, as they are scarce finite for number, so
are most fit to be left to the judgment and holy managing of
every Christian : neither is it to be imagined, that any soul which
is taught of God, and hath any acquaintance with heaven, can be
to seek in the particular application of common rules to his own
necessity or expedience.
The result of all is,
A devout man is he that ever sees the invisible, and ever .
trembleth before that God he sees; that walks ever here on
earth with the God of heaven, and still adores that Majesty with
whom he converses ; that confers hourly with the God of spirits
in his own language ; yet so, as no familiarity can abate of his
awe, nor fear abate aught of his love : to whom the gates of
heaven are ever open, that he may go in at pleasure to the
throne of grace ; and none of the angelical spirits can offer to
challenge him of too much boldness; whose eyes are well ac
quainted with those heavenly guardians, the presence of whom
he doth as truly acknowledge as if they were his sensible com
panions. He is well known of the King of glory for a daily
suitor in the court of heaven, and none so welcome there as he.
He accounts all his time lost that falls beside his God, and can be
no more weary of good thoughts than of happiness.
His bosom is no harbour for any known evil ; and it is a
question, whether he more abhors sin or hell. His care is to
entertain God in a clear and free heart ; and therefore he thrusts
the world out of doors, and humbly beseeches God to welcome
himself to his own. He is truly dejected and vile in his own
eyes ; nothing but hell is lower than he ; every of his slips are
heinous, every trespass is aggravated to rebellion. The glory
and favours of God heighten his humiliation. He hath looked
down to the bottomless deep, and seen with horror what he
deserved to feel everlastingly. His cries have been as strong as
his fears just ; and he hath found mercy more ready to rescue
him than he could be importunate. His hand could not be so
soon put forth as his Saviour's for deliverance.
The sense of this mercy hath raised him to an unspeakable
joy ; to a most fervent love of so dear a Redeemer. That love
hath knit his heart to so meritorious a deliverer, and wrought a
blessed union betwixt God and his soul. That union can no more

538 The Devout Soul. [Sect. XXX.
be severed from an infinite delight, than that delight can be
severed from an humble and cheerful acquiescence in his muni
ficent God. And now, as in an heavenly freedom he pours out
his soul into the bosom of the Almighty, in all faithful suits for
himself and others, so he enjoys God in the blessings received.
and returns all zealous praises to the Giver.
He comes reverently to the oracles of God, and brings not his
eye but his heart with him ; not carelessly negligent in seeking to
know the revealed will of his Maker, nor too busily inquisitive
into his deep counsels ; not too remiss in the letter, nor too
peremptory in the sense ; gladly comprehending what he may,
and admiring what he cannot comprehend.
Doth God call for his ear? he goes awfully into the holy
presence ; and so hears, as if he should now hear his last :
catching every word that drops from the preacher's lips ere it
fall to the ground, and laying it up carefully where he may be
sure to fetch it. He sits not to censure, but to learn ; yet specu
lation and knowledge is the least drift of his labour. Nothing is
his own but what he practises.
Is he invited to God's feast ? he hates to come in a foul and
slovenly dress ; but trims up his soul so as may be fit for an
heavenly guest. Neither doth he leave his stomach at home
cloyed with the world ; but brings a sharp appetite with him :
and so feeds as if he meant to live for ever : all earthly delicates
are unsavoury to him in respect of that celestial manna. Shortly,
he so eats and drinks as one that sees himself set at table with
God and his angels, and rises and departs full of his Saviour ;
and, in the strength of that meal, walks vigorously and cheerfully
on towards his glory.
Finally, as he well knows that he lives and moves and hath
his being in God, so he refers his life, motions, and being wholly
to God : so acting all things as if God did them by him ; so using
all things as one that enjoys God in them ; and in the mean time
so walking on earth, that he doth in a sort carry his heaven with
him.

THE
FREE PRISONER, OR
THE COMFORT OF RESTRAINT.
WRITTEN SOME WHILE SINCE IN THE TOWER.
BY JOSEPH, BISHOP OF NORWICH.

Section I.
Sir, — While you pity my affliction, take heed lest you aggra
vate it ; and in your thoughts make it greater than it is in my
own. It is true, I am under restraint. What is that to a man
that can be free in the Tower, and cannot but be a prisoner
abroad? Such is my condition, and every divine philosopher's
with me. Were my walks much straiter than they are, they
cannot hold me in.
It is a bold word to say, " I cannot, I will not be a Prisoner."
It is my soul that is I. My flesh is my partner, (if not my servant,)
not myself. However my body may be immured, that agile spirit
shall fly abroad, and visit both earth and heaven at pleasure.
Who shall hinder it from mounting up in an instant to that
supreme region of bliss; and from seeing that, by the eye of
faith, which St. Paul saw in ecstacy; and when it hath viewed
that blessed hierarchy of heaven, to glance down through the
innumerable and unmeasurable globes of light which move in the
firmament and below it into this elementary world ; and there to
compass seas and lands without shipwreck, in a trice, which a
Drake or Cavendish cannot do but with danger, and in some
years' navigation ? And if my thoughts list to stay themselves
in the passage, with what variety can my soul be taken up of
several objects ! here, turning into the dark vaults and dungeons
of penal restraint, to visit the disconsolate prisoners, and to fetch
from their greater misery a just mitigation of mine own ; there,
looking into the houses of vain jollity, and pitying that which
the sensual fools call happiness : here, stepping into the courts of
great princes, and in them observing the fawning compliances of
some, the treacherous underworking of others, hollow friendships,
faithless engagements, fair faces, smooth tongues, rich suits, view-

540 The Free Prisoner.
ing all save their hearts, and censuring nothing that it sees not ;
there, calling in at the low cottages of the poor, and out of their
empty cupboard furnishing itself with thankfulness; here, so over
looking the courts of justice, as not willing to see rigour or par
tiality ; there, listening what they say in those meetings which
would pass for sacred, and wondering at what it hears. Thus
can, and shall, and doth my nimble spirit bestir itself in a restless
flight, making only the empyreal heaven the bounds of its motion ;
not being more able to stand still than the heavens themselves,
whence it descended. Should the iron enter into my soul, as it
did into that good patriarch's, yet it cannot fetter me. No more
can my spirit be confined to one place, than my body can be
diffused to many.
Perhaps, therefore, you are mistaken in my condition; for what
is it, I beseech you, that makes a prisoner ? Is it an allotment to
the same room without change, without remove? What is that
still to a mind that is free ?
And why is my body then more a prisoner than the best man's
soul ? that, you know, is peremptorily assigned for an habitation
to this house of clay till the day of dissolution. Why more than
the stars of heaven, which have remained fixed in their first sta
tions ever since they were first created ? Why more than those
great persons, which keep up for state, or dames for beauty ?
Why more than those anchorites, whom we have seen willingly
cooped up for merit? How much more scope have we than
they ! We breathe fresh air, we see the same heavens with the
freest travellers. Section II.
But we have, you will say, bounds for our restraint, which the
free spirit hates ; as never being pleased but with a full liberty
both of prospect and passage : any bar, whether to the foot or to
the eye, is a death. 0 vain affectation of wild and roving curi
osity! If their desires cannot be bounded, yet their motions must.
When they have the full sight of heaven above them, they cannot
climb up into it; they cannot possibly see that whole glorious
contignation : and when the whole earth lies open before them,
they can measure but some small pieces of it. How can they be
quiet, till they have purchased Tycho Brahe's prospective trunk
of thirty-two foot long ; whereby they may discover a better face
of heaven ; some lesser planets moving round about the sun, and
the moonets about Saturn and Jupiter ; and the mountains, seas,

The Free Prisoner. 541
and valleys in the moon? How can they rest till, having acquainted
themselves with the constellations of our hemisphere, they have
passed the equinoctial, and seen the triangle, the cross, and the
clouds, and the rest of the unknown stars, that move above the
other pole ? And when all this is done they are but who they
were ; no whit better, no whit wiser, and perhaps far less happy
than those who never smelt any but their own smoke, never knew
any star but Charles's wain, the morning-star, and the seven.
For me, I do not envy, but wonder at the licentious freedom
which these men think themselves happy to enjoy, and hold it a
weakness in those minds which cannot find more advantage and
pleasure in confinement and retiredness. Is it a small benefit
that I am placed there, where no oaths, no blasphemies beat my
ears ? where my eyes are in no peril of wounding objects ? where
I hear no invectives, no false doctrines, no sermocinations of iron
mongers, felt-makers, cobblers, broom-men, grooms, or any other
of those inspired ignorants ; no curses, no ribaldries ? where I see
no drunken comessations, no rebellious routs, no violent oppres
sions, no obscene rejoicings, nor aught else that might either vex
or affright my soul? This, this is my liberty, who, while I sit
here quietly locked up by my keeper, can pity the turmoils and
distempers abroad, and bless my own immunity from those too
common evils. Section III.
Is it the necessity and force of the restraint, since those things
which we do voluntarily are wont to pass from us with delight,
which, being imposed, seem grievous to us ? Why should not I
have so much power over my will as to make that voluntary in
me to undergo which another wills forcibly to inflict ? The mind
that is truly subacted to grace can so frame itself to what it
must suffer, as that it finds a kind of contentment in patience.
Thus we daily do to the Almighty, whose will, by our humble
submission, we make ours, and pray that we may do so. And
who can restrain us without him ? If therefore my wise and holy
God think it. best to cage me up, by the command of authority,
upon what cause soever, why should not I think this inclosure a
better liberty, who know there is perfect freedom in his obedience ?
So then if constraint make a prisoner, I am none, who am most
willingly where my God will have me. And if my will did not
often carry me out of my own walls at home, why cannot it as
well confine me to a larger compass of the Tower ?

542 The Free Prisoner.
Section IV.
Is it solitude and infrequence of visitation ? This may perhaps
be troublesome to a man that knows not to entertain himself,
but to him that can hold continual discourse with his own heart,
no favour can be greater ; for, of all other, these self-conferences
are most beneficial to the soul. Other men's communication may
spend the time with more advantage of learning or mirth, but
none can yield us so much spiritual profit as our own soliloquies.
And when all is done, the Greeks said well, " It is not much, but
useful, that makes truly wisea." Besides this, we can never have
the opportunity of so good company as when we are alone : now
we enjoy the society of God and his angels, which we cannot so
freely do in a throng of visitants. AVhen God would express his
greatest entirenesss with his Church, Ducam earn in solitudinem,
saith he ; i" will bring her into tlie ivilderness, and there speak
comfortably to her, Hos. ii. 14. We cannot expect so sweet
conversation with God in the presence of others as apart. 0,
the divine benefit of a holy solitariness, which no worldly heart
can either know or value ! What care I for seeing of men, when
I may see Him that is invisible ? What care I for chatting with
friends, when I may talk familiarly with the God of heaven ?
What care I for entertaining mortal guests, when I may, with
Abraham and his nephew Lot, feast the angels of God, and, which
were too great a word if God himself had not spoken it, be attended
by them ? Section V.
Is it the reproach and ignominy that commonly attends the
very name of an imprisonment ? Weak minds may be affected
with every thing ; but, with solid judgments, it is not the punish
ment, but the cause, that makes either the martyr or the male
factor. S. Paul's bonds were famous, and Petrus ad vincula is not
without a note of yearly celebrity ; and it were hard if so many
blessed martyrs and confessors, who have lived and died in gaols
for the truth's sake, should not have brought prisons, such as
they may be, into some credit. Shortly, as notorious crimes may
be at liberty, so even innocence may be under restraint ; yet those
crimes no whit the better, nor this innocence the worse.
Besides, that which perhaps came not within your freer
thoughts, every restraint is not for punishment. There is a
restraint for safety ; a salva custodia, as well as arcta. Such
a 'O xphaip.', oi>ic b iroW' etSws, aotp6s.

Sect. VI.] The Free Prisoner. 543
is this of ours. This strong tower serves not so much for our
prison as for our defence, what horror soever the name may
carry in it. I bless God for these walls ; out of which I know
not where we could for the time have been safe from the rage
of the misincensed multitude. Poor seduced souls ! they were
taught it was piety to be cruel ; and were mispersuaded to hate
and condemn us for that which should have procured their
reverence and honour, even that holy station which we hold in
God's Church, and to curse those of us who had deserved nothing
but their thanks and prayers ; railing on our very profession in
the streets, and rejoicing in our supposed ruin. Father, forgive
them ; for they knew not ivhat they did. Here we were out of
the danger of this mis-raised fury, and had leisure to pray for the
quenching of those wild fires of contention and causeless malice
which, to our great grief, we saw wicked incendiaries daily to
cast amongst God's dear and well-minded people Here we have
well and happily approved, with the blessed apostle, that, whatever
our restraint be, the word of God is not bound. With what
liberty, with what zeal, with what success hath that been preached
by us to all comers ! Let them say whether the Tower had ever
so many, such guests, or such benedictions ; so as, if the place
have rendered us safe, we have endeavoured to make it happy.
Wherein our performances have seemed to confute that which
Cornelius, bishop of Rome, long since observed, that the mind
laden with heavy burdens of affliction is not able to do that ser
vice which it can do when it is free and at easeb. Our troubles,
through God's mercy, made us more active, and our labours more
effectual. Section VI.
Add unto these, if you please, the eminent dignity of the place,
such as is able to give a kind of honour to captivity ; the ancient
seat of kings, chosen by them, as for the safe residence of their
royal persons, so for their treasury, their wardrobe, their maga
zine. All these precious things are under the same custody with
ourselves; sent hither, not as to prison, but a repository; and
why should we think ourselves in any other condition? How
many worthy inhabitants make choice to fix their abode within
these walls, as not knowing where to be happier ! The place is the
same to us, if our will may be the same with theirs : they dearly
o Non enim potest mens attrita et oneribus et importunitatihus gravata, tantum
boni peragere, quantum deleotata et oppressionibus soluta. Cornel. Ep. 2, Rufo,
Co-episcopo.

544 - The Free Prisoner.
purchase that which cost us nothing but our fees : nothing makes
the difference but the mere conceit of hberty ; which, while I can
give to myself in my thoughts, why am I pitied as miserable, while
their happiness is applauded ?
You see then how free I am in that which you miscall my
prison. See now how little cause I have to affect this liberty
which you imagine me to want, since I shall be, I can be no other,
than a prisoner abroad.
There is much difference of prisons. One is strait and close-
locked ; so far from admitting visitants, that it scarce allows the
sun to look in at those cross-barred grates. Another is more
large and spacious, yielding both walks and access. Even after
my discharge from these walls, I shall be yet sure to be a pri
soner, both these ways; for what is my body, but my prison in
the one, and what is the world, but my prison in the other kind ?
Section VII.
To begin with the former : never was there a more close pri
soner than my soul is for the time to my body : close, in respect
of the essence of that spirit, which, since its first mittimus, never
stirred out from this strait room ; never can do, till my gaol-
delivery. If you respect the improvement of the operations of that busy
soul, it is any where ; it is, successively, every where ; no place
can hold it ; none can limit it. But if you regard the immortal
and immaterial substance of it, it is fast locked up within these
walls of clay, till the day of my changing come. Even as the
closest captive may write letters to his remotest friends whilst
his person is in durance ; I have too much reason to acknow
ledge my native gaol, and feel the true symptoms of it to my
pain. What darkness of sorrow have I here found ! what httle
ease of melancholic lodgings ! what manacles and shackles of
cramps ! yea, what racks of torturing convulsions !
And if there be others that find less misery in their prison,
yet there is no good soul but finds equal restraint. That spiritual
substance, which is imprisoned within us, would fain be flying up
to that heaven whence it descended : these walls of flesh forbid
that evolation, as Socrates called it of old ; and will not let it
out, till the God of spirits, who placed it there, shall unlock the
doors and free the prisoner by death. He that infused life into
Lazarus, that he might call him from the prison of the grave,

Sect. VIII. The Free Prisoner. 545
must take life from us, when he calls us out of this prison of
flesh. I desire to be loosed, and to be with Christ, saith the
apostle ; as some versions express it. While we are chained to
this flesh, we can have no passage to heaven, no free conversa
tion with our Saviour ; although it was the singular privilege of
that great doctor of the Gentiles, that he was in heaven before
his dissolution ; whether in the body, or out of the body, he knew
not. How far that rapture extended, whether to both soul and
body, if he knew not, how should we? But this we know, that
such ecstasy and vision was in him, without separation of the soul
from the body, which another should hope for in vain. And for
him, so he saw this glory of paradise, that he could not yet enjoy
it. Before he or we can be blessed with the fruition of Christ, we
must be loosed, that is freed, from our clog and our chain of this
mortal body.
What but our prison walls can hinder us here from a free
prospect ? What but these walls of flesh can hinder me from a
clear vision of God? I must now, for the time, see as I may.
Nothing can enter into my soul but what passes through my
senses, and partakes, in some sort, of their earthliness ; when I
am freed from them, I shall see as I am seen ; in an abstracted
and heavenly way, so as one spirit apprehends another. I do
now, at the best, see those spiritual objects darkly, by the eye of
faith, as in a glass ; and that not one of the clearest neither :
alas ! what dim representations are these, that I can attain to
here, of that Majesty, whose sight shall make me blessed ! I
shall once see as I am seen, face to face. The face of my glori
fied soul shall see the face of that all-glorious Deity, and in that
sight be eternally happy. It is enough for a prisoner in this
dungeon of clay to know of and fore-expect such felicity, whereof
these earthly gyves render him as yet uncapable.
Section VIII.
Woe is me ! how many prisons do we pass !
So soon as ever this divine soul is infused into this flesh, it is a
prisoner ; neither can any more pass out of this skin till this
frame of nature be demolished.
And now, as the soul of this embryon is instantly a prisoner to
the body, so the body is also a prisoner in the womb wherein it
is formed. What darkness, what closeness, what uneasiness, what
nuisance is there in this dungeon of nature ! There he must lie,

546 The Free Prisoner.
in an uncouth posture, for his appointed month ; till, the native
bonds being loosed, and the doors forced open, he shall be, by an
helpful obstetrication, drawn forth into the larger prison of the
world. There indeed he hath elbow room enough, but all that wide
scope cannot free him from a true incarceration.
Who knows not, that there are many differences and latitudes
of restraint? A Simeon may imprison and enchain himself in the
compass of a pillar ; not allowing himself the ease of his whole
dimensions : Peter may be locked up in a larger gaol, betwixt his
two leopards, as that father terms them : St. Paul may be two
years allowed to be a prisoner in his own hired house, but under
the guard of his keeper and not without his chain, Acts xxviii.
3 1 : there are those, who, upon heinous and dangerous occasions,
may be kept close under many locks : there are prisoners at
large, who have the liberty of the Tower ; yet even these last,
notwithstanding the allowance of spacious walks and fresh gar
dens, are no other than acknowledged prisoners. Such is my
¦condition to the world when I am at my fullest liberty.
It is true, that when I look back to the straitness of my first
and native prison, and compare it with the large extent of that
wide world into which I am brought, I may well, with Isaac's
herdsmen, say, Rehoboth; for now the Lord hath made me room,
Gen. xxvi. 22 : but when I compare that world wherein I am
with that whereto I aspire, and which I know to be above, and
look to enjoy ; I can see nothing here but mere prison walls, and
profess my life to be no other than a perpetual durance.
Section IX.
If Varro said of old, that the world was no other than " the
great house of little man0," I shall be bold to add what kind of
house it is : it is no other than his prison ; yea, his dungeon.
Far be it from me to disparage the glorious work of my
omnipotent Creator. I were not worthy to look upon this large
and glittering roof of heaven, nor to see the pleasant varieties of
these earthly landscapes, if I did not adore that infinite power
and wisdom which appears in this goodly and immense fabric;
and confess the marvellous beauty of that majestic and transcen
dent workmanship : rather, when I see the moon and the stars,
which thou hast ordained, I say, with the Psalmist, Lord, what
is man ? Psalm viii. 3, 4.
c Magna domus homuli.

Sect. X. Tlie Free Prisoner. 547
But, 0 God, it is no dishonour to thee, that, though this be
a fair house, yet thou hast one so much better than it, as a palace
is beyond a gaol. This beauty may please, but that ravisheth
my soul : here is light, but dim and dusky in respect of that
inaccessible light wherein thou dwellest : here is a glorious suu,
that illuminateth this inferior world ; but thou art the Sun who
enlightenest that world above ; thou, to whom thy created sun is
but a shadow. Here we converse with beasts, or, at the best,
with men ; there with blessed souls and heavenly angels : here,
some frivolous delights are intermixed with a thousand vexations ;
there, in thy presence, is the fulness of joy.
So then let the sensual heart misplace his paradise here in the
world, it shall not pass for other with me than my prison. How
can it ? Why should it ? for what other terms do I find here ?
What blind light looks in here at these scant loopholes of my
soul ! yea, what darkness of ignorance rather possesses me !
what bolts and shackles of heavy crosses do I bear about me !
how am I fed here with the bread of affliction ! how am I
watched and beset with evil spirits ! how contumeliously tra
duced ! how disdainfully looked upon ! how dragging the same
chain with the worst malefactors ! how disabled to all spiritual
motions ! how restrained from that full liberty of enjoying my
home, and my God in it, which I daily expect in my dissolution !
When therefore I am released from these walls, I am still im
prisoned in larger ; and so shall be, till the Lord of the spirits of
all flesh, who put me here, shall set me free : and all the days of
my appointed time ivill I wait, till this my changing come.
Section X.
You see then, by this time, how little reason I have to be too
much troubled with this imprisonment, or my friends for me. But
indeed there are some sorts of prisoners which neither you nor I
can have tears enough to bewail. And those especially of two
kinds : the one, those that are too much affected with an out
ward bondage : the other, those that are no whit affected with a
spiritual. In the first rank are they that sink under the weight of their
irons. Poor impotent souls, that, groaning under the cruelty of
a Turkish thraldom, or a Spanish Inquisition, want faith to bear
them out against the impetuous violences of their tormentors.
I sorrow for their sufferings, but for their fainting more.

548 The Free Prisoner.
Could they see the crown of glory which the righteous Judge
holds ready for their victorious patience, they could not but con
temn pain, and all the pomp of death ; and confess, that their
light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for them a
far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. But, alas ! it
is the weakness of their eyes, that they only look at the things
that are seen ; close walls, heavy fetters, sharp scourges, merci
less racks, and other dreadful engines of torture : and see not the
things which are not seen, the glorious reward of their victory —
blessedness. Had they had Stephen's eyes, they would have emulated his
martyrdom. Surely, whosoever shall but read the story of the
mother and the seven brethren in the Maccabees; and that of
the forty Armenian martyrs frozen to death, reported by Gau-
dentius; and shall there see the fainting revolter dying un
comfortably in the bath, while the other thirty and nine, toge
ther with their new-converted keeper, are crowned by an angel
from heaven ; cannot choose, except he have nothing but ice in
his bosom, but find in himself a disposition emulous of their
courage and ambitious of their honour.
But, alas ! whatever our desires and purposes may be, it is not
for every one to attain to the glory of martyrdom. This is the
highest pitch that earthly saints are capable of. He must be
more than a man whom pain and death cannot remove from
his holy resolutions, and especially the lingering execution of
both. It is well, if an age can yield one Moiled. In what terms shall
I commemorate thee, 0 thou blessed confessor, the great example
of invincible constancy in these backsliding times, if at least thy
rare perseverance be not more for wonder than imitation ; whom
thirty years' tedious durance in the Inquisitory at Rome could
not weary out of thy sincere profession of the evangelical truth ?
All this while, thou wert not allowed the speech, the sight of any
but thy persecutors. Here was none to pity thee, none to exhort
thee. If either force of persuasion, or proffers of favour or
threats of extremity could have wrought thee for thy perversion
thou hadst not at last died ours. Blessed be the God of all com
fort, who, having stood by thee, and made thee faithful to the
death, hath now given thee a crown of life and immortality ; and
a [Mr. John Molle or Mole. See above, p. 307.]

Sect. X.] Tlie Free Prisoner. 549
left thee a noble pattern of Christian fortitude, so much more re
markable as less frequently followed.
Whether I look into the former or present times, I find the world
full of shrinking professors.
Amongst the first Christians, persecution easily discovered four
sorts of cowardly renegadoes: the first and worst, whom they
justly styled idolaters, that yielded to all the public forms of wor
ship to those false gods : the second, sacrificers, who condescended
so far as to some kind of immolation unto those feigned deities,
or at least to a tasting of those things which were offered : the
third, incensers, such as, with Marcellinus himself, came on so far
as to cast some grains of incense into the idol's fire : the last were
their libellatics ; such as privately by themselves, or by some
allowed proxy, denied the faith, yet with their money bought
out this ignominy and sin of any pubhc act of idolatry.
Not to speak of those many thousands which fell down before
Solyman the Second, and held up their finger to signify their con
version to his Mahometism, for ease of their taxations ; how many
do we hear of daily of all nations, and some, which I shame and
grieve to say, of our own, who yield to receive circumcision and
to renounce their Saviour !
0, the lamentable condition of those distressed Christians ! If
constant to their profession, they live in a perpetual purgatory of
torment : if revolting, they run into the danger of an everlasting
damnation in hell. Even this gentle restraint puts me into the
meditation of their insupportable durance. Why do not all Christ
ian hearts bleed with the sense of their deplorable estate?
Why is not our compassion heightened, according to the depth
of their peril and misery ? What are our bowels made of, if they
yearn not at their unexpressible calamity ? Ye rich merchants,
under whose employment many of these poor souls have thus un
happily miscarried, how can you bless yourselves in your bags,
while you see the members of Christ your Saviour thus torn
from him for want of a petty ransom ? Ye eminent persons,
whom God hath advanced to power and greatness, how can you
sleep quietly upon your pillows, while you think of the cold and
hard lodgings, the hungry bellies, the naked and wealed backs of
miserable Christians? Lastly, what fervent prayers should we
all, that profess the dear name of Christ, pour out unto the God
of Heaven, for the strengthening of the faith and patience of
these afflicted souls, against the assaults of violence, and for

550 The Free Prisoner.
Section XI.
These prisoners are worthy of our deep compassion ; as those
who are too sensible of their own misery. Others there are, who
are so much more worthy of greater pity, by how much they are
less apprehensive of their need of it : plausible prisoners, under a
spiritual tyranny ; whose very wills are so captived to the powers
of darkness, that to choose, they would be no other than bond
men : pleasing themselves in those chains whose weight is enough
to sink their souls into hell.
Such are. they who have yielded themselves over to be en
thralled by any known sin. No men under heaven do so much
applaud themselves in the conceit of their liberty ; none so great
slaves as they. If the very Stoic philosophers had not enough
evinced this truth, divinity should.
Indeed, the world is a worse kind of Algiers ; full of miserable
captives. Here lies one, so fettered in lust, that he rots again ;
there, another, so laden with drunken excess, that he can neither
go nor stand, and in very deed is not his own man : here, one so
pinched with golden fetters, that he can neither eat nor sleep, nor
at all enjoy himself: there, another, so pined with envy, that
he is forced to feed on his own heart : here, one so tormented
with anger, that he is stark mad for the time, and cares not
how he mischieves himself in a furious desire to hurt others :
there another, so racked with ambition, that he is stretched
beyond his own length, and lives in the pain of a perpetual
self-extension. These and all others of this kind are most miserable prisoners,
chained up for everlasting darkness ; so much more worthy of our
pity, as they are less capable of their own. Spend your compas
sion, if you please, upon these deplorable subjects; but for me.
wish me, if you will, as free from any imputation of evil as I
was and am from the thought of it ; wish me in your free cham
paign, where I may have no hedge so much as to confine my eye ;
wish me happy in the society of so dear and noble a friend ; but,
in the mean while, think of me no otherwise than as a free pri
soner, and Yours, thankfully devoted
in all faithful observance,
J.N.

THE
REMEDY OF DISCONTENTMENT
OR, A
TREATISE OF CONTENTATION
IN WHATSOEVER CONDITION :
FIT FOR THESE SAD AND TROUBLED TIMES.

BY JOSEPH, BISHOP OF NORWICH.

I have perused this treatise, entitled, "The Remedy of Discontentment;"
and, judging it to be very pious, profitable, and necessary for these sad and
distracted times, I license it to be printed and published ; and should much
commend it to the Christian reader, if the very name of the author were not
in itself sufficient, without any further testimony.
JOHN DOWNAME.
TO
THE CHRISTIAN READER,
GRACE AND PEACE.

What can be more seasonable, than, when all the world is sick of discon
tentment, to give counsels and receipts of contentation ?
Perhaps the patient will think it a time ill chosen for physic, in the midst
of a fit; but in this case we must do as we may. I confess I had rather
have stayed till the paroxysm were happily over ; that so, the humours being
somewhat settled, I might hope for the more kindly operation of this wholesome
medicine. But partly my age and weakness, despairing to outlive the public
distemper, and partly my judgment, crossing the vulgar opinion for the
season of some kind of receipts, have now put me upon this safe and useful
prescription. God is my witness, that I wrote this in the depth of mine own afflictions ;
the particulars whereof, it were unseasonable to trouble the world withal : as
one that meant to make myself my own patient, by enjoining myself that
course of remedies that 1 prescribe to others; and as one who, by the
powerful working of God's Spirit within me, labour to find my heart framed
to those holy dispositions, which I wish and recommend to every Christian
soul. If there be no remedy, but the worst of outward troubles must afflict us ;

552 it shall be happy yet, if we may find inward peace in our bosoms : which
shall be, if we can reconcile ourselves to our offended God, and calm our
spirits to a meek undergoing of those sufferings which the Divine Providence
hath thought fit to measure forth unto us. This is the main drift of this
ensuing labour.
Now the same God, who hath in these blustering times put into my heart
these quiet thoughts of holy contentation, bless them in every hand that shall
receive them ; and make them effectual to the good of every soul that shall
now and hereafter entertain them ! that so their gracious proficiency may, in
the day of the appearance of our Lord Jesus, add to the joy of my account;
who am the unworthiest of the servants of God and his Church, J.N.

The Contents of the several sections following.
Sect. I. — The excellency of contentation, and how it is to be had, page 554.
Sect. II. — The contrariety of estates wherein it is to be exercised, p. 554.
Sect. III. — Who they are that know not how to want, and be abased, p. 555.
Sect. IV. — Who they are that know how to want, p. 557.
Sect. V. — Considerations leading to contentation ; and first the consideration of
the fickleness of life and of all earthly commodities ; honour, beauty, strength,
&c.p. 558.
Sect. VI. — Consideration of the unsatisfying condition of these worldly things,
P- S60.
Sect. VII. — The danger ofthe too much estimation of these earthly comforts, p. 562.
Sect. VIII. — The consideration of the Divine providence, ordering, and over
ruling all events, p. 562.
Sect. IX. — The consideration of the worse condition of others, p. 563.
Sect. X. — The consideration of the inconveniences of great estates, and therein
first their cares, p. 565.
Sect. XI. — The danger of the distempers, both bodily and spiritual, that follow
great means ; and the torment in parting with them, p. 566.
Sect. XII. — Consideration of the benefits of poverty, p. 568.
Sect. XIII. — Consideration of how little will suffice nature, p. 569.
Sect. XIV. — Consideration of the inconveniences and miseries of discontentment,
P- 57i-
Sect. XV. — The gracious vicissitudes ofGod's favours and afflictions, p. 572.
Sect. XVI. — Consideration of the great examples of contentation, both without
and within the Church of God, p. 574.
Sect. XVII. — Contentment in death itself, p. 577.
Sect. XVIII. — The miseries and inconveniences of the continued conjunction of
the soul and body, p. 579.
Sect. XIX. — Holy dispositions for contentment ; the first whereof, humility,
p. 581.
Sect. XX. — 2. Self-resignation, p. 583.
Sect. XXI. — 3. The true inward riches, p. 584.
Sect. XXII. — Holy resolutions ; and, i, That the present estate is best for us,
p. 586.
Sect. XXIII. — 2. Resolution to abate of our desires, p. 588.
Sect. XXIV. — 3. Resolution to inure ourselves to digest smaller discontentments,
P- 59°-
Sect. XXV. — 4. Resolution to be frequent and fervent in prayer, p. 592.
Sect. XXVI. — The difficulty of knowing how to abound, and the ill-consequences
ofthe not knowing it, p. 592.

The Method of the Treatise.

I. What it is, to know
how to want and to
be abased.

f[i.] Of the valua
tion of earthly
things.

[«¦]

«S

w

II. How to
be attained : -
in respect of

i. Conside
rations

Of the di
versities of-
life

[4.] Ofthe inconve
niences of great -
estates.

Of death it-
Iself

' (a. ) Thetransitoriness of
life, honour, beauty,
strength, pleasure.
(b.) Unsatisfying con
dition of them.
(c.) Danger of over-es
teeming them.
Of Divine providence overruling all
events.
[3.] Of the worse condition of others.
(a.) Expose to envy.
(b.)Macerate with cares.
(c.) Danger of dis
temper, both bodily
and spiritual.
(d.) Torment in parting.
(e.) Account to be ren
dered.
i(a. ) Freedom from cares.
(b.) Freedom from fears
of keeping.
(c.) Freedom from fears
of losing.
[6.] Of how little will suffice nature.
[7.] Ofthe miseries of discontentment.
[8.] Ofthe vicissitudes of favours and crosses.
[9.] Examples of contentation, both without
and within the Church of God.
(a.) Necessity and bene
fit of death.
(b.) Conscience of a well-
led life.
(c.) Final peace with
God.
(d.) Efficacy of Christ's
death applied.
(e.) Comfortable expec
tation of certain re
surrection" and imme
diate vision of God.
(a.) Defilement of sin

[1.] Remedies
against the ter
rors of death.

[2.] Miseries and
inconveniences
of the continued
conjunction of
soul and body.

(b.) Proneness to sin.
(c.) Difficulty of doing
well.
(d.) Dulness of under
standing
(e.) Perpetual conflicts.
(f.) Solicitude of cares.
(g.) Multiplicity of pas
sions.
(h.)Retardation of glory.

( (i.) Humility.
Dispositions. < (2.) Self-resignation.

3. Resolutions.

How to abound.

(3.) True inward riches.
(1.) That our present condition is best for us.
I (2.) To abate of our desires.
I (3.) To digest smaller inconveniences.
(4.) To be frequent and fervent in prayer.

THE
REMEDY OF DISCONTENTMENT.

INTRODUCTION.

Sect. I. — The excellency of contentation, and how it
is to be had.
If there be any happiness to be found upon earth, it is in that
which we call contentation. This is a flower that grows not in
every garden. The great doctor of the Gentiles tells us, that he
had it : / have learned, saith he, in what estate soever I am,
therewith to be content : I know how to be abased, and I know
how to abound3: Lo, he could not have taken out this lesson if
he had not learnt it ; and he could not have learnt it of any other
than his Master in heaven. What face soever philosophy may
set upon it, all morality cannot reach it ; neither could his learned
Gamaliel, at whose feet he sat, have put this skill into him : no,
he learnt it since he was a Christian, and now professeth it. So,
as it appears, there is a divine art of contentation to be attained in
the school of Christ : which whosoever hath learnt, hath taken a
degree in heaven ; and now knows how to be happy, both in want
and abundance.
Sect. II. — The contrariety of estates wherein contentation is
to be exercised.
The nature of man is extremely querulous. We know not what
we would have, and when we have it, we know not how to like it.
We would be happy; yet we would not die. We would live
long ; yet we would not be old. We would be kept in order ; yet
we would not be chastised with affliction. We are loath to work ;
yet are weary of doing nothing. We have no list to stir ; yet
find long sitting painfulb. We have no mind to leave our bed ;
yet find it a kind of sickness to lie long. We would marry, but
would not be troubled with household cares ; when once we are
a Philipp. iv. 1 1. ipaBov : verse 12, ptpbnpai.
b Si sedeas, requies est magna laboris ; si multum sedeas, labor est. Tert. Carm.

Sect. III."] Of Contentation. 555
married, we wish we had kept single. If therefore grace have so
mastered nature in us, as to render us content with whatever con
dition, we have attained to no small measure of perfection. Which
way soever the wind blows, the skilful mariner knows how to turn
his sails to meet it. The contrariety of estates to which we lie open
here gives us different occasions for the exercise of contentation.
I cannot blame their choice who desire a middle estate betwixt
want and abundance, and to be free from those inconveniences
which attend both extremes. Wise Solomon was of this diet,
Give me neither poverty nor riches ; feed me with the food of my
meet allowance, Prov. xxx. 8. Lo, he that had all, desired rather
to have but enough. And if any estate can afford contentment in
this life, surely this is it, in the judgment and experience of the
wisest heathen c. But forasmuch as this equal poise is hardly at
tainable by any man, and is more proper for our wishes and
speculation than for our hopes, true wisdom must teach us so to
compose ourselves, that we may be fit to entertain the discontent
ments and dangers of those excesses and defects which we cannot
but meet with in the course of our mortal life ; and surely we
shall find, that both extremes are enemies to this good temper of
the soul ; prosperity may discompose us as well as an adverse
condition ; the sunshine may be as troublesome to the traveller
as the wind or rain. Neither know I whether is more hard to
manage of the two ; a dejected estate or a prosperous ; whether
we may be more incommodated with a resty horse or with a
tired one.
Let us begin with that which nature is wont to think most dif
ficult : that, contrary to the practice of learners, we may try to
take out the hardest lesson first. Let us therefore learn, in the
first place, how to want.
Sect. III. — How many do not know how to want.
Could we teach men how not to want, we should have disciples
enow. Every man seeks to have, and hates to lack. Could we
give an antidote against poverty, it would be too precious. And
why can we not teach men even this lesson too ? The Lord is my
shepherd, saith David ; therefore can I lack nothing, Ps. xxiii. 1 ;
and most sweetly elsewhere, 0 fear the Lord, ye that be his
0 [Optimus pecuniae modus et qui nee in paupertatem cadit nee procul a pauper
tate discedit.] Senec. de Tranquil. [An. c. viii.]

556 Of Contentation.
saints : for they that fear him lack nothing. The lions do lack,
and suffer hunger : but they which seek the Lord shall ivant no
manner of thing that is good, Ps. xxxiv. 9, 1 o. Let God be true,
and every man a liar. Certainly, if we were not wanting to God
in our fear of him, in our faithful reliance upon him, in our con
scionable seeking of him, he, whose the earth is and the fulness of
it, would not suffer our careful endeavours to go weeping away.
But if it so fall out, that his most wise providence finds it better
for us to be held short in our worldly estate ; as it may be the
great Physician sees it most for our health to be kept fasting ; it
is no less worth our learning to know how to want. For there is
many a one that wants, but knows not how to want, and therefore
his need makes him both offensive and miserable.
There are those that are poor and proud, one of the Wise
Man's three abominations, Ecclus. xxv. 2 ; foolish Laodiceans, that
bear themselves for rich, increased with goods, and lacking nothing ;
when they are no other than wretched, and miserable, and poor,
and blind, and naked, Rev. iii. 17. These men know not how to
want; their heart is too big for their purse; and surely pride,
though everywhere odious, yet doth nowhere so ill as in rags.
There are those that are poor and envious, looking with an evil
eye upon the better fare of others ; as surely this vice dwells more
commonly in cottages than in palaces. How displeasedly doth the
beggar look upon the larger alms of his neighbour ; grudging to
another whatever falls beside himself ; and misliking his own dole,
because the next hath more ! whose eye, with the discontented
labourers, is evil, because his master's is good, Matt. xx. 15 ; nei
ther do these men know how to want.
There are those that want distrustfully, measuring the merciful
provision of the Almighty by the line of their own sense ; as the
Samaritan peer, when in the extremity of a present famine, he heard
the prophet foretell a sudden plenty, Behold, if the Lord would
make windows in heaven, might this thing be? 2 Kings vii. 2.
There are those that want impatiently, repining at God's dealing
with them, and making their own impotent anger guilty of a further
addition to their misery ; as the distressed king of Israel, in a
desperate sense of that grievous dearth ; Behold, this evil is of the
Lord ; what should I wait on the Lord any longer ? 2 Kings vi. 33 ;
and those wretched ones, who when the fourth angel had poured
out his phial upon the sun, being scorched with the extremity of
the heat, blasphemed the God of heaven, Rev. xvi. 9, 1 1 . In this

Sect. IV.] Of Contentation. 557
kind was that sinful techiness of Jonah. When I see a poor
worm that hath put itself out of the cool cell of the earth wherein
it was lodged, and now being beaten upon by the sunbeams, lies
wriggling upon the bare path, turning itself every way in vain,
and not finding so much as the shade of a leaf to cover it ; I can
not but think of that fretting prophet, when, wanting the protection
of his gourd, he found himself scalded with that strong reflection ;
looking up wrathfully towards that sun from whom he smarted,
could say to the God that made it, / do well to be angry, even to
the death, Jonah iv. 9.
Lastly, there are those that are poor and dishonest, even out
of the very suggestion of their want. It was the danger hereof
that made Agur, the son of Jakeh, pray against penury, Lest I be
poor, and steal ; and, by forswearing it, take the name of God in
vain, Prov. xxx. 9. ^
Sect. IV. — Who they are that know how to want.
These, and perhaps others, do and must want ; but in the mean
time they do that which they know not how to do ; there is a
skill in wanting which they have not.
Those only know how to want that have learnt to frame their
mind to their estate ; like to a skilful musician, that can let down
his strings a peg lower when the tune requires it ; or like to some
cunning spagirick, that can intend or remit the heat of his furnace
according to occasion : those who, when they must be abased, can
stoop submissly ; like to a gentle reed, which when the wind
blows stiff yields every way : those that in an humble obeisance
can lay themselves low at the foot of the Almighty, and put
their mouth in the dust, that can patiently put their necks under
the yoke of the Highest, and can say with the prophet, Truly
this is my sorrow, and, I must bear it, Jer. x. 19 : those that can
smile upon their afflictions ; rejoicing in tribulation ; singing in
the gaol, with Paul and Silas, at midnight : lastly, those that can
improve misery to an advantage ; being the richer for their want ;
bettered with evils, strengthened with infirmities ; and can truly
say to the Almighty, I know that qf very faithfulness thou
hast afflicted me : never could they have come out so pure metal
if they had not passed under the hand of the refiner ; never had
they proved so toward children if they had not been beholden to
the rod.
These are they that know how to want and to be abased,

558 Of Contentation.
and have effectually learned to be content with the meanest
condition. To which happy temper that we may attain, there will be use
of, i, certain considerations; 2, certain dispositions; and, 3,
certain resolutions. These three shall be as the grounds and
rules of this our divine art of contentation.
Sect. V. — The consideration of the fickleness of life, and all
earthly commodity.
The first consideration shall be of the just valuation of all
these earthly things : which doubtless is such, as that the wise
Christian cannot but set a low price upon them ; in respect, first,
of their transitoriness ; secondly, of their insufficiency of satisfac
tion ; thirdly, the danger of their fruition.
At the best, they are but glassy stuff; which the finer it is, is
so much raore brittle : yea, what other than those gay bubbles
which children are wont to raise from the mixed soap and spittle
of their walnut-shell, which seem to represent pleasing colours,
but in their flying up instantly vanish ? There is no remedy ;
either they must leave us, or we must leave them.
Well may we say that of the Psalmist, which Campian was re
ported to have often in his mouth ; My soul is continually in my
hands: and who knows whether it will not expire in our next
breathing ? How many have shut their eyes in a healthful sleep,
who have waked in another world! We give too large scope to
our account while we reckon seven years for a life : a shorter time
will serve ; while we find the revolution of less than half those
years to have despatched five Csesars and five popes3 Nay, who
can assure himself of the next moment ? It is our great weakness,
if we do not look upon every day as our last. Why should we
think ourselves in a better condition than the Chosen Vessel, who
deeply protested to die daily ? 1 Cor. xv. 3 1 . What a poor com
plaint was that of the great conqueror of the Jews, Titus Vespa
sian, who, putting his head out of his sick litter, querulously ac
cused Heaven, that he must die, and had not deserved it ! when
he might have found it guilt enough that he was a man ; and
therefore by the very sentence of nature condemned, I know
<J [Galba, Otho, Vitellius, JEb. Perti- Platina, the deaths of these popes (the
nax, Didius. — A.D. 1275, 1276, Gregor. fourth being John XXII.) took place
X. Innocent V. Hadrian V. Johan. XX. within three years and seven months.]
vel XXI. Nicolaus III. [According to

Sect. V.] Of Contentation. 559
not whether to live or die. Indeed, what can we cast our eyes
upon that doth not put us in mind of our frailty ? All our fellow-
creatures die for us and by us. The day dies into night. The
trees, and all other plants of the earth, suffer a kind of autumnal
mortality. The face of that common mother of us all, doth, at
the least in winter, resemble death. But if the angel of death,
as the Jews term him, shall respite and reprieve us for the time ;
alas, how easily may we have overlived our comforts ! If death do
not snatch us away from them, how many thousand means, of ca
sualties, of enemies, may snatch them away from us ! He that was
the greatest man of all the sons of the East, within a few days
became a spectacle and proverb of penury ; which still sticks by
him, and so shall do to the worldJs end; "As poor as Job." The
rich plain of Jordan, which, over-night, was as the garden of the
Lord, is, in the morning, covered over with brimstone and salt
and burning, Gen. xiii. 10; Deut. xxix. 23. Wilt thou cause
thine eyes to fly upon that which is not ? saith wise Solomon,
Prov. xxiii. 5 ; for riches certainly make themselves wings : they
fly away as an eagle towards heaven : if we have wings of desire
to fly after them, they are nimbler of flight to outstrip us ; and
leave us no less miserable in their loss, than we were eager in
their pursuit.
As for honour, what a mere shadow it is ! Upon the least cloud
interposed, it is gone ; and leaves no mention where it was. The
same sun sees Haman adored in the Persian court, like some
earthly deity, and, like some base vermin, waving upon his gibbet.
Do we see the great and glorious Cleopatra shining in the
pompous majesty of Egypt? stay but a while, and ye shall see
her in the dust ; and her two children, whom she proudly styled
the sun and the moon, driven, like miserable captives, before the
chariot of their conqueror. Man, being in honour, abideth not,
saith the Psalmist, Ps. xlix. 12. He perisheth : but his greatness,
as more frail than he, is oftentimes dead and buried before him,
and leaves him the surviving executor of his own shame. It was
easy for the captive prince to observe in the chariot wheel of his
victor, that when one spoke rose up another went down, and both
these in so quick a motion, that it was scarce distinguished by the
eye. Well therefore may we say of honour, as Ludovicus Vives
said of scholastical divinity ; Cuifumusestprofundamentoe. It
is built upon smoke : how can it be kept from vanishing ?
B Lud. Vives in 3 de Civit. censura notatus Vallosillo.

560 Of Contentation.
As for beauty, what is it but a dash of nature's tincture laid
upon the skin, which is soon washed off with a little sickness?
what, but a fair blossom, that drops off so soon as the fruit offers
to succeed it? what, but a flower, which, with one hot sun-
gleam, weltereth and falls? He that had the choice of a thou
sand faces could say, Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vanity,
Prov. xxxi. 30.
Lastly, for strength and vigour of body, if it could be main
tained till our old age, alas how soon is that upon us, ere we be
aware ! How doth it then shrivel our flesh, and loosen our sinews,
and cripple our joints ! Milo, when he looked upon his late brawny
arms, and saw them now grown lank and writhled, lets fall tears ;
and bewrays more weakness of mind than he had before bodily
strength. But how often doth sickness prevent the debilitations
of age ; pulling the strongest man upon his knees ; and making him
confess, that youth, as well as childhood, is vanity! Eccles. xi. 10.
As for pleasure, it dies in the birth ; and is not therefore worthy
to come into this bill of mortality.
Do we then, upon sad consideration, see and feel the manifest
transitoriness of life, riches, honour, beauty, strength, pleasure,
and whatever else can be dear and precious to us in this world ;
and can we dote upon them so as to be too much dejected with
our parting from them ? Our Saviour bids us consider tlie lilies qf
the field, Matt. vi. 28 : and he, that made both, tells us, that
Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these.
Surely, full well are they worth our considering. But, if those
beauties could be as permanent as they are glorious, how would
they carry away our hearts with them ! now, their fading con
dition justly abates of their value. Would we not smile at
the weakness of that man that should weep and howl for the
falling of this tulip or that rose, abandoning all comfort for the
loss of that which he knows must flourish but his month ? It is for
children, to cry for the falling of their house of cards ; or the
miscarriage of that painted gewgaw, which the next shower would
have defaced : wise Christians know how to apprize good things
according to their continuance ; and can therefore set their hearts
only upon the invisible comforts of a better life, as knowing that
the things which are not seen are eternal.
Sect. VI. — Consideration of the unsatisfying condition of
all worldly things.
But, were these earthly things exempted from that fickleness

Sect. VI.] Of Contentation. 561
which the God of nature hath condemned them unto ; were they,
the very memory whereof perisheth with their satiety, as lasting
as they are brittle, yet, what comfort could they yield for the
soul to rest in ? Alas ! their efficacy is too short to reach unto a
true contentation. Yea, if the best of them were perpetuated unto
us, upon the fairest conditions that this earth can allow, how in
tolerably tedious would it prove in the fruition ! Say, that God
were pleased to protract my life to the length of the age of the
first founders of mankind ; and should, in this state of body, add
hundreds of years to the days of my pilgrimage ; woe is me, how
weary should I be of myself and of the world ! I, that now com
plain ofthe load of seventy-one years, how should I be tired out,
ere I could arrive at the age of Parr ! but before I could climb
up to the third century of Johannes de Temporibus, how often
should I call for death, not to take up, but to take off my burden,
and, with it, myself!
But if any or all these earthly blessings could be freed from
those grievances wherewith they are commonly tempered, yet
how little satisfaction could the soul find in them ! What are these
outward things, but very luggage, wliich may load our backs,
but cannot lighten our hearts ? Great and wise Solomon, that had
the full command of them all, cries out, Vanity of vanities: and
a greater monarch than he shuts up the scene with, " I have been
all things, and am never the better." All these are of too narrow
an extent to fill the capacious soul of man ; the desires whereof
are enlarged with enjoying: so as the more it hath, the less it is
satisfied. Neither indeed can it be otherwise; the eye and the
ear are but the purveyors for the heart ; if therefore the eye be
not satisfied with seeing nor the ear with hearing, (Eccl. i. 8,)
how shall the heart say, It is enough ?
Now, who would suffer himself to be too much disquieted with
the loss of that which may vex him, but cannot content him ? We
do justly smile at the folly of that vain lord, of whom Petrarch
speaks ; who, when an horse which he dearly loved was sick,
laid that steed of his on a silken bed, with a wrought pillow under
his head ; and caused himself, then afflicted with the gout, to be
carried on his servants' shoulders to visit that dear patient, and
upon his decease mourned solemnly for bim, as if it had been his
son. We have laughed at the fashion of the girls of Holland, who,
having made to themselves gay and large babies, and laid them in
a curious cradle, feign them to sicken and die, and celebrate their
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. 0 O

562 Of Contentation.
funeral with much passion. So fond are we, if, having framed to
ourselves imaginary contentments here in the world, we give way
to immoderate grief in their miscarriage.
Sect. VII. — The, danger ofthe love qf these earthly comforts.
Neither are these earthly comforts more defective in yielding
full satisfaction to the soul, than dangerous in their over-dear
fruition ; for too much delight in them robs us of more solid con
tentments. The world is a cheating gamester; suffering us to
win at the first, that at last he may go away with all. Our
very table may be made our snare, and those things which should
have been for our wealth may be unto us an occasion of falling,
Ps. lxix. 23. Leo, the fourth emperor of Constantinople, delighted
extremely in precious stones ; with these he embellishes his crown,
which being worn close to his temples strikes such a cold into
his head, that causeth his bane. Yea, how many, with the too
much love of these outward things, have lost, not their lives only,
but their souls I No man can be at once the favourite of God and
the world, as that Father said truly ; or as our Saviour, in fuller
terms, No man can serve two masters, God and mammon.
Shortly, the world may be a dangerous enemy; a sure friend
it cannot be.
If therefore we shall, like wise men, value things at their due
prices, since we are convinced in ourselves that all these earthly
comforts are so transitory in their nature, so unsatisfying in their
use, and so dangerous in their enjoying, how little reason have we
to be too much affected with foregoing them ! Our blood is dear
to us, as that wherein our life is ; yet, if we find that it is either
infected or distempered, we do willingly part with it, in hope of
better health ; how much more with those things which are farther
from us, and less concerning us !
Sect. VIII. — Consideration of the Divine Providence
ordering all events.
The second consideration is, of that all-wise Providence which
ordereth all events, both in heaven and earth ; allotting to every
creature his due proportion ; so overruling all things to the best,
that we could not want if he knew it better for us to abound.
This station he hath set us in, this measure he hath shared out to
us, whose will is the rule of good ; what we have therefore can
not but be best for us.
The world is a large chessboard : every man hath his place

Sect. IX.] Of Contentation. 563
assigned him : one is a king ; another a knight ; another a pawn ;
and each hath his several motion: without this variety, there
could be no game played. A skilful player will not stir one of
these chips but with intention of an advantage; neither should
any of his men either stand or move, if, in any other part of that
chequer it might be in more hope to win.
There is no estate in this world which can be universally good
for all. One man's meat may be another man's medicine, and a
third man's poison. A Turk finds health and temper in that
opium which would put one of us into our last sleep. Should the
ploughman be set to the gentleman's fare, this chicken, that
partridge or pheasant, would, as over-slight food, be too soon
turned over, and leave his empty stomach to quarrel for stronger
provision : beef is for his diet ; and, if any sauce needs besides
his hunger, garlic. Every man hath, as a body, so a mind of his
own : what one loves is abhorred of another.
The great Housekeeper of the world knows how to fit every
palate with that which either is or should be agreeable to it, for
salubrity, if not for pleasure. Lay before a child a knife and a
rod, and bid him take his choice, his hand will be straight upon
that edge tool, especially if it be a little gilded and glittering ;
but the parent knows the rod to be more safe for him and more
beneficial. We are ill carvers for ourselves : he that made us
knows what is fit for us ; either for time or measure : without his
providence, not an hair can fall from our heads.
We would have bodily health : I cannot blame us : what is the
world to us without it? he, whose we are, knows sickness to be
for the health of the soul : whether should we in true judgment
desire ? We wish to live : who can blame us ? life is sweet : but if
our Maker have ordained that nothing but death can render us
glorious, what madness is it to stick at the condition !
0, our gross infidelity, if we do not believe that great Arbiter
of the world infinitely wise to know what is best for us, infinitely
merciful to will what he knows best, infinitely powerful to do
what he will ! And if we be thus persuaded, how can we, but in
matter of good say with blessed Mary, Behold thy servant: be
it unto me according to thy word? and in matter of evil, with
good Eli, It is the Lord, let him do what he will ?
Sect. IX. — Consideration ofthe worse condition of others.
In the third place, it will be requisite for us to cast our eyes
002

564 Of Contentation.
upon the worse condition of others, perhaps better deserving than
ourselves: for if we shall whine and complain of that weight
which others do run away cheerfully withal, the fault will appear
to be, not in the heaviness of the load, but in the weakness ofthe
bearer. If I be discontented with a mean dwelling, another man lives
merrily in a thatched cottage : if I dislike my plain fare, the four
captive children feed fair and fat with pulse and water, Dan. i.
12, 13 : if I be plundered of my rich suits, I see a more cheerful
heart under a russet coat than great princes have under purple
robes : if I do gently languish upon my sick bed, I see others
patient under the torments of the cholic or stone or strangury:
if I be clapped up within four walls, I hear Petronius profess, he
would rather be in prison with Cato than at liberty with Caesar ;
I hear Paul and Silas sing hke nightingales in their cages : am I
sad because I am childless 1 I hear many a parent wish himself
so: am I banished from my home? I meet with many of whom
the world was not worthy, wandering about in sheep skins, in
goat skins, in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and
caves ofthe earth, Heb. xi. 38. What am I, that I should speed
better than the miserablest of these patients ? what had they done,
that they should fare worse than I ? If I have little, others have
less : if I feel pain, some others, torture : if their sufferings be just,
my forbearances are merciful ; my provisions, to theirs, liberal.
It is no ill counsel therefore, and not a little conducing to a
contented want, that great persons should sometimes step aside
into the homely cottages of the poor, and see their mean stuff,
coarse fare, hard lodgings, worthless utensils, miserable shifts,
and to compare it with their own delicate and nauseating super
fluities. Our great and learned king Alfred was the better, all
his life after, for his hidden retiredness in a poor neatherd's
cabin, where he was sheltered, and sometimes also chidden, by that
homely dame. Neither was it an ill wish of that wise man, That
all great princes might first have some little taste what it is to
want, that so their own experience might render them more sen
sible of the complaints of others.
Man, though he be absolute in himself, and stand upon his own
bottom ; yet is he not a little wrought upon by examples and
comparisons with others ; for in them he sees what he is or may
be, since no events are so confined to some special subjects, as that
they may not be incident to other men.

Sect. X.] Of Contentation. 565
Merits are a poor plea for any man's exemption while our sin
ful infirmities lay us all open to the rod of divine justice ; and if
these dispensations be merely out of favour, why do I rather
grudge at a lesser misery than bless God for my freedom from a
greater judgment? Those therefore that suffer more than I, have
cause of more humbling ; and I, that suffer less than they, have
cause of more thankfulness. Even mitigations of punishment are
new mercies : so as others'1 torments do no other than heighten
my obligations. Let me not therefore repine to be favourably
miserable.Sect. X. — Considerations of the inconvenience of great estates,
and, first, of their cares, that they expose us to envy, and
then macerate us with cares.
The fourth consideration shall be, of the inconveniences which
do oftentimes attend a fulness of estate: such, and so many, as
may well make us sit down content with a little.
Whereof, let the first be envy, a mischief not to be avoided of
the great. This shadow follows that body inseparably. All the
curs in the street are ready to fall upon that dog that goes away
with the bone, and every man hath a cudgel to fling at a well
loaded tree ; whereas a mean condition is no eyesore to any be
holder. Low shrubs are not wont to be stricken with lightning,
but tall oaks and cedars feel their flames. While David kept his
father's sheep at home, he might sing sweetly to his harp in the
fields without any disturbance ; but when he once comes to the
court, and finds applause and greatness creep upon him, now
emulation, despite and malice, dog him close at the heels where
soever he goes : let him leave the court and flee into the wilder
ness, there these bloodhounds follow him in hot suit ; let him run
into the land of the Philistines, there they find him out and chase
him to Ziklag : and if at the last he hath climbed up to his just
throne, and there hopes to breathe him after his tedious pursuit ;
even there he meets with more unquietness than in his desert,
and notwithstanding all his royalty, at last cries out, Lord, re
member David, and all his troubles, Ps. exxxii. i. How many
have we known, whom their wealth hath betrayed and made in
nocent malefactors ! who might have slept securely upon a hard
bolster, and in a poor estate outlived both their judges and ac
cusers ! Besides, on even ground, a fall may bo harmless, but he
that falls from on high cannot escape bruising. He therefore that
can think the benefits of eminence can countervail the dangers

566 Of Contentation.
which haunt greatness, let him affect to overtop others ; for me,
let me rather be safely low than high with peril.
After others' envy, the next attendant upon greatness is our own
cares. How do these disquiet the beds and sauce the tables of the
wealthy ! breaking their sleeps, galling their sides, embittering
their pleasures, shortening their days. How bitterly do we find
the holiest men complaining of those distractions wliich have at
tended their earthly promotions ! Nazianzenf cries out of them as
no other than the bane of the soul ; and that other Gregory, whora
we are wont to call the last of the best bishops of Rome and the
first of the bad, passionately bewails this clog of his high prefer
ment : " I confess,'' saith he, " that while I am outwardly advanced
I am inwardly fallen lower. This burdensome honour depresses
me, and innumerable cares disquiet me on all sides; my mind,
grown almost stupid with those temporal cares which are ever
barking in mine ears, is forced upon earthly things?." Thus he.
There are indeed cares which, as they may be used, may help us
on towards heaven : such as Melancthon owns to his Camerarius :
" My cares,"" saith he, " send me to my prayers, and my prayers
dispel my cares h :" but those anxieties which commonly wait upon
greatness distract the mind and impair the body. It is an obser
vation of the Jewish doctors, that Joseph, the patriarch, was of a
shorter life than the rest of his brethren, and they render this
reason of it, for that his cares were as much greater as his place
was higher. It was not an unfit comparison of him', who resembled
a coronet upon the temples to a pail upon the head : we have
seen those who have carried full and heavy vessels on the top of
their heads, but when they have walked evenly and erect under
that load, we never saw any that could dance under such a weight :
if either they bend or move vehemently, all their carriage is spilled.
Earthly greatness is a nice thing, and requires so much chariness
in the managing, as the contentment of it cannot requite. He is
worthy of honey that desires to lick it off from thorns. For my
part, I am of the mind of him who professed not to care for those
favours that compelled him to lie waking.
Sect. XI. — Danger of distemper both bodily and spiritual,
that commonly follows great means ; and torment in
parting with thein.
In the next place, I see greatness not more pale and worn with
1 G. Naz. Carm. de Calam. suis. s Greg. 1. vii. Epist. 12. 7.
h In vita Melanct. ' fehichardus.

Sect. XL] Of Contentation. 567
cares, than swollen up and sickly with excess. Too much oil poured
in puts out the lamp.
Superfluity is guilty of a world of diseases, which the spare
diet of poverty is free from. How have we seen great men's
eyes surfeited at that full table whereof their palate could not
taste; and they have risen, discontentedly glutted with the sight
of that which their stomach was uncapable to receive : and when,
not giving so much law to nature as to put over their gluttonous
meal, their wanton appetite charging them with a new variety of
curious morsels and lavish cups, they find themselves overtaken
with feverous distempers, the physician must succeed the cook,
and a second sickness must cure the first.
But alas ! these bodily indispositions are nothing to those
spiritual evils which are incident into secular greatness. It is a
true word of St. Ambrose1*, seconded by common experience, that
a high pitch of honour is seldom held up without sin : and St.
Jerome tells us1, it was a common proverb in his time, That a
rich man either is wicked or a wicked man's heir : not but that
rich Abraham may have a bosom for poor Lazarus to rest in, and
many great kings have been great saints in heaven, and there is
still room for many more : but that, commonly, great temptations
follow great estates, and oftentimes overtake them : neither is it
for nothing that riches are by our blessed Saviour styled the
mammon of iniquity ; and wealth is by the holy apostle branded
with deceitfulness, i Tim. vi. 9, such as cheats many millions of
their souls.
Add unto these, if you please, the torment of parting with that
pelf and honour which hath so grossly bewitched us : such as may
well verify that which Lucius long since wrote m to the bishops of
France and Spain, That one hour's mischief makes us forget the
pleasure of the greatest excess. I marvel not at our English Jew,
of whom our story speaks, that would rather part with his teeth
than his bags : how many have we known, that have poured out
their life together with their gold; as men that would not outlive
their earthen god ! Yea, woe is me ! how many souls have been
lost in the sin of getting and in the quarrel of losing this thick
clay, as the prophet terms it 1
But, lastly, that which is yet the sorest of all the inconveniences
is, the sadness of tlie reckoning which must come in after these
k Ambros. 1. iv. Ep. 29. ] Hieron. Ep. ad Hedibiam. [Paris. 1 706. t. iv. p. 1 70.]
m Ep. Lucii ad Episc. Gall, et Hisp.

568 Of Contentation.
plentiful entertainments : for there is none of all our cates here
but must be billed up ; and great accompts must have long audits.
How hard a thing it is, in this case, to have an omnia atque ! in
the failing whereof, how is the conscience affected ! I know not
whether more tormented, or tormenting the miserable soul : so as
the great owner is but, as witty Bromiard compares him, like a
weary jade ; which all the day long hath been labouring under
the load of a great treasure, and at night lies down with a galled
back. By that time therefore we have summed up all, and find here
envy, cares, sicknesses both of body and soul, torment in parting
with, and more torment in reckoning for these earthly greatnesses ;
we shall be convinced of sufficient reason to be well apaid with
their want. Sect. XII. — Consideration ofthe benefits of poverty.
Let the fifth consideration be, the benefits of poverty : such,
and so great, as are enough to make us in love with having
nothing. For, first, what an advantage is it to be free from those gnaw
ing cares, which, like Tityus's vulture, feed upon the heart of the
great ! Here is a man that sleeps, Ethiopian-like, with his doors
open : no dangers threaten him : no fears break his rest : he
starts not out of his bed at midnight, and cries, " Thieves !" he
feels no rack of ambitious thoughts : he frets not at the disap
pointment of his false hopes : he cracks not his brain with hazard
ous plots : he misdoubts no undermining of emulous rivals ; no
traps of hollow friendship ; but lives securely in his homely cot
tage, quietly enjoying such provision as nature and honest industry
furnish him withal ; for his drink, the neighbour-spring saves
him the charge of his excise ; and when his better earnings have
fraught his trencher with a warm and pleasing morsel, and his
cup with a stronger liquor, how cheerfully is he affected with
that happy variety, and in the strength of it digests many of his
thinner meals ! meals, usually sauced with a healthful hunger ;
wherein no incocted crudities oppress nature and cherish disease.
Here are no gouts, no dropsies, no hypochondriac passions, no
convulsive fits, no distempers of surfeits ; but a clear and whole
some vigour of body, and an easy putting over the light tasks of
digestion, to the constant advantage of health.
And as for outward dangers, what an happy immunity doth

Sect. XIII.] Of Contentation. 569
commonly bless the poor man ! How can he fear to fall that lies
flat upon the ground? The great pope, Boniface the Seventh",
when he saw many stately buildings ruined with earthquakes, is
glad to raise him a little cabin of boards, in the midst of a meadow ;
and there finds it safest to shelter his triple crown. When great
men hoist their topsail, and launch forth into the deep, having
that large clue, which they spread, exposed to all winds and
weathers ; the poor man sails close by the shore ; and when he
foresees a storm to threaten him, puts into the next creek ; and
wears out, in a quiet security, that tempest, wherein he sees
prouder vessels miserably tost, and, at last, fatally wrecked.
This man is free from the peril of spiteful machinations : no man
whets his axe to cut down a shrub ; it is the large timber of the
world that hath cause to fear hewing. Neither is he less free
inwardly from the galling strokes of a self-accusing conscience :
here is no remurmuring of the heart, for guilty subornations ;
no checks, for the secret contrivances of public villanies; no
heartbreaking for the failings of bloody designs, or late remorse
for their success ; but quiet and harmless thoughts, of seasonable
frugality, of honest recreation, with an uninterrupted freedom of
recourse to heaven.
And if at any time, by either hostile or casual means, he be
bereft of his little, he smiles in the face of a thief ; and is no whit
astonished to see his thatch on a flame, as knowing how easy a
supply will repair his loss. And when he shall come to his last
close, his heart is not so glued to the world that he should be loath
to part; his soul is not tied up in bags, but flies out freely to her
everlasting rest. O, the secret virtue and happiness of poverty,
which none but the right disposed mind knows how to value ! It
was not for nothing that so many great saints have embraced it,
rather than the rich proffers of the world ; that so many great
princes have exchanged their thrones for quiet cells. Whoso
cannot be thankful for a little, upon these conditions, I wish he
may be punished with abundance.
Sect. XIII. — Considering how little will suffice nature.
Neither will it a little avail to the furtherance of our contentation,
to consider how little will suffice nature, and that all the rest is
but matter of opinion.
It is the apostle's charge, Having food and raiment, let us
n [This is related of Boniface the Eighth, Platina de Vitis, &c]

570 Of Contentation.
be therewith content, i Tim. vi. 8. Indeed, what use is there of
more than what may nourish us within and cover us without ? If
that be wholesome, and agreeable to our bodily disposition,
whether it be fine or coarse, nature passes not : it is merely will
that is guilty of this wanton and fastidious choice.
It is fit that civility should make difference of clothings ; and
that weakness of body, or eminence of estate should make differ
ences of diets ; else, why not russet as well as scarlet ? beef as
pheasant? The grasshopper feeds on dew, the chameleon on air:
what care they for other viands ?
Our books " tell us, that those anchorites of old, that went
aside into wildernesses, and sustained themselves with the most
spare diet, such as those deserts could afford, outlived the date of
other men's lives, in whom nature is commonly stifled with a glut
tonous variety. How strong and vigorous above their neighbour-
Grecians were the Lacedemonians held of old, who, by the ordi
nance of their lawgiver, held themselves to their black broth :
which when Dionysius would needs taste of, his cook truly told
him, that if he would relish that fare he must exercise strongly,
as they did, and wash in Eurotas ! Who knows not, that our
island doth not afford more able bodies than they that eat and
drink oats ? and whom have we seen more healthful and active
than the children of poor men, trained up hardly in their cot
tages, with fare as little as coarse ?
Do I see a poor Indian husbanding one tree to all his house
hold uses, finding in that one plant timber, thatch, meat, medi
cine, wine, honey, oil, sauce, drink, utensils, ships, cables, sails ?
and do I rove over all the latitude of nature for contentment ?
Our appetite is truly unreasonable, neither will know any bounds.
We begin with necessaries, as Pliny" justly observes; and from
thence we rise to excess ; punishing ourselves with our own wild
desires ; whereas, if we were wise, we might find mediocrity an
ease. Either extreme is alike deadly. He that overafflicts his body
kills a subject, he that pampers it nourishes an enemy P. Too
n Paulo, primo Eremitaa, in spelunca pars i. p. 70.] Revelatur Antonio nona-
viventi, palma et cibum et vestimentum genario, de Paulo agente jam 115 an-
praibebat : quod cum [ne cui] impossibile num, esse alium se sanctiorem mona-
videatur, Jesum testor et Angelos, vi- chum. [Alium ulterius multo se melio-
disse me monachos, de quibus unus, per rem.] Ibid.
30 annos clausus, hordeaceo pane et ° Plin. 1. xxvi. c. 6.
lutulenta aqua vixit. Ilieron. de Vita v Hugo Instit. Monac. Reg. S.Columb.
Pauli. [Eremite. Op. Par. 1 706. tom.iv.

Sect. XIV.] Of Contentation. 571
much abstinence turns vice ; and too much ingurgitation is one of
the seven [deadly sins], and at once destroys both nature and
grace. The best measure of having or desiring is, not what we
would, but what we ought; neither is he rich that hath much, but
he that desireth not muchl. A discreet frugality is fittest to mo
derate both our wishes and expenses ; which if we want, we prove
dangerously prodigal in both ; if we have," we do happily improve
our stock to the advantage of ourselves and others.
Sect. XIV. — Considering the inconveniences and miseries
of discontentment.
The next inducement to contentation shall be the serious con
sideration of the miserable inconveniences of the contrary dis
position. Discontentment is a mixture of anger and of grief, both which
are wont to raise up fearful tempests in the soul: He teareth
himself in his anger, saith Bildad, concerning that mirror of
patience, Job xviii. 4 ; and, The sorrow of the world worketh
death, saith the Chosen Vessel : so as the malecontent, whether he
be angry or sad, mischiefs himself both ways.
There cannot be a truer word than that of wise Solomon, Anger
resteth in the bosom of fools, Eccl. vii. 9. What can be more
foolish, than for a man, because he thinks God hath made him
miserable by crosses, to make himself more miserable by his own
distempers ? If the clay had sense, what a mad thing were it for
it to struggle with the potter ! and if a man will spurn against
strong iron pikes, what can he hope to carry away but wounds ?
How witless a thing it is for a man to torment himself with the
thoughts of those evils that are past all remedy ! What wise be
holder would not have smiled with pity and scorn, to have seen
great Augustus, after the defeat of some choice troops, to knock
his head against the wall, and to hear him passionately cry out,
" 0 Varus, restore me my lost legions ! " Who would not have
been angry with that choleric prophet, to hear him so .furiously
contest with his Maker for a withered gourd ? What an affliction
was it to good Jacob, more than the sterility of a beloved wife, to
hear Rachel say, Give me children, or else I die! Gen. xxx. 1:
yea, how ill did it sound in the mouth of the father of the faithful ;
Lord God, what wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless ?
Gen. xv. 2. Yet, thus froward and techy is nature, in the best.
If we may not have all we would have, all that we have is nothing :
1 [Fecit sibi divitias nihil concupiscendo.] Senec. Epist. 87.

572 Of Contentation.
if we be not perfectly humoured, we are wilfully unthankful : all
Israel is nothing worth to Ahab, if he may not have one poor
vineyard. How must this needs irritate a munificent God, to see
his bounty contemned out of a childish pettishness! how can he
forbear to take away from us his slighted mercies? how can he hold
his hand from plaguing so ungrateful disrespects of his favours ?
As for that other passion of grief, what woful work doth it make
in ungoverned minds ! How many have we known, that, out of
thought for unrecoverable losses, have lost themselves ! how many
have run from their wits ! how many from their lives ! yea, how
many, that, out of an impatience to stay the leisure of vengeance,
have made their own hands their hasty executioners ! and even
where this extremity prevails not, look about, and ye shall see
men, that are not able matches to their passions, wofully mace
rating themselves with their own thoughts ; wearing out their
tedious days upon the rack of their own hearts, and making good
that observation of the Wise Man, By the sorrow of the heart the
spirit is broken, Prov. xv. 13.
Now all these mischiefs might have been happily prevented by
a meek yieldance of ourselves to the hands of an all-wise and an
all-merciful God, and by an humble composure of our affections
to a quiet suffering. It is in the power of patience to calm the
heart in the most blustering trials, and, when the vessel is most
tossed, yet to secure the freight r. This, if it do not abate of our
burden, yet it adds to our strength, and wins the Father of Mercies
both to pity and retribution ; whereas murmuring Israelites can
never be free from judgments ; and it is a dreadful word that God
speaketh of that chosen nation, Mine heritage is unto me as a
lion in the forest ; it, still, yelleth against me ; therefore have I
hated it ; Jer. xii. 8. A child that struggles under the rod justly
doubles his stripes ; and an unruly malefactor draws on, besides
death, tortures.
Sect. XV. — Considering the vicissitudes of favours
and afflictions.
Furthermore, it is a main help towards contentation, to consider
the gracious vicissitudes of God's dealing ivith us : how he in
termixes favours with his crosses ; tempering our much honey
with some little gall. The best of us are but shrewd children;
yet, he chides un not always, saith the Psalmist, Ps. ciii. 9. He
smiles often, for one frown ; and why should we not take one with
r Psalm xxxvii. 7 ; James v. 7.

Sect. XV.] Of Contentation. 573
another ? It was the answer, wherewith that admirable pattern of
patience stopped the querulous mouth of his tempting wife, What !
shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not re
ceive evil? Job ii. 10.
It was a memorable example which came lately to my know
lege, of a worthy Christian who had lived to his middle age in
much health and prosperity, and was now, for his two last years,
miserably afflicted with the strangury ; who in the midst of his
torments could say, " 0 my Lord God, how gracious hast thou
been unto me ! thou hast given me eight and forty years of health,
and now but two years of pain. Thou mightest have caused me
to lie in this torture all the days of my life ; and now, thou hast
carried me comfortably through the rest, and hast mercifully taken
up with this last parcel of my torment. Blessed be thy name for
thy mercy, in forbearing me, and for thy justice in afflicting me."
To be thankful for present blessings is but ordinary, but to be
so thankful for mercies past, that the memory of them should be
able to put over the sense of present miseries, is an high improve
ment of grace.
The very heathens, by the light of nature and their own ex
perience, could observe this interchange of God's proceedings, and
made some kind of use of them accordingly. Camillus, after he had,
upon ten years' siege, taken the rich city Veii, prayed that some
mishap might befall himself and Rome, to temper so great an
happiness s ; when one would have thought the price would not
countervail the labour, and the loss of time and blood ; and Alex
ander the Great, when report was made to him of many notable
victories achieved by his armies, could say, " 0 Jupiter, mix some
misfortune with these happy news !" Lo, these men could tell, that
it is neither fit nor safe for great blessings to walk alone ; but that
they must be attended with their pages, afflictions : why should
not we Christians expect them with patience and thanks ?
They say, thunder and lightning hurts not, if it be mixed with
rain. In those hot countries, which lie under the scalding zone,
when the first showers fall after a long drought, it is held dan
gerous to walk suddenly abroad ; for that the earth, so moistened,
sends up unwholesome steams ; but in those parts where the rain
and sunshine are usually interchanged, it is most pleasant to take
the air of the earth newly refreshed with kindly showers. Neither
is it otherwise in the course of our lives. This medley of good
8 Livius, [lib. v. c. 2 1 .]

574 Of Contentation.
and evil conduces not a little to the health of our souls : one of
them must serve to temper the other, and both of them to keep
the heart in order.
Were our afflictions long, and our comforts rare and short, we
had yet reason to be thankful : the least is more than God owes
us : but now, when if heaviness endure for a night, joy cometh in
the morning, and dwells with us, so that some fits of sorrow are
recompensed with many months of joy ; how should our hearts
overflow with thankfulness, and easily digest small grievances, out
of the comfortable sense of larger blessings !
But if we shall cast up our eyes to heaven, and there behold
the glorious remuneration of our sufferings, how shall we contemn
the worst that earth can do unto us ! There, there is glory enough
to make us a thousand times more than amends for all that we are
capable to endure. Yea, if this earth were hell, and men devils,
they could not inflict upon us those torments which might hold
any equality with the glory which shall be revealed ; and even of
the worst of them we must say, with the blessed apostle, Our
light affliction, ivhich is but for a moment, worketh for us afar
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, 2 Cor.iv.17. When the
blessed proto-martyr Stephen had steadfastly fixed his eyes on
heaven, and, that curtain being drawn, had seen the heavens
opened, and therein the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the
right hand of God, Acts vii. 56, do we think he cared aught for
the sparkling eyes and gnashed teeth, and killing stones of the
enraged multitude? 0 poor impotent Jews, how far was that
divine soul above the reach of your malice ! how did he triumph
over your cruelty ! how did he, by his happy evolation, make all
those stones precious !
Sect. XVI. — Considering the examples qf contentation both
within and without the Church of God.
Lastly, it cannot but be a powerful motive unto contentation,
that we lay before us the notable examples of men, whether worse
or better than ourselves, that have been eminent in the practice
of this virtue ; men, that out of the mere strength of morality,
have run away with losses and poverty, as a light burden ; that,
out of their free choice, have fallen upon those conditions which
we are ready to fear and shrink from.
What a shame is it for Christians to bo outstripped herein by
very pagans ?

Sect. XVI.] Of Contentation. 575
If we look upon the ancient philosophers, their low valuation
of these outward things, and their willing abdication of those
comforts wherewith others were too much affected, made them
admired of the multitude. Here do I see a cynic housed in his
tub, scorning all wealth and state, and making still even with his
victuals and the day* ; who, when he was invited to supper to one
of Alexander's great lords, could say, " I had rather lick salt at
Athens than feast with CraterusV Here I meet with him whom
their oracle styled the wisest of men, walking barefoot in a patched,
threadbare cloak, contemning honours and all earthly things ;
and when that garment would hang no longer on his back, I can
hear him say, " I would have bought a cloak if I had had money :"
"After which word," saith Seneca, "whosoever offered to give,
came too late*:" Apollodorus, amongst the rest, sends him a rich
mantle towards his end, and is refused : with what patience doth
this man bear the loud scoldings of his Xantippe, making no other
of them than the creaking of a cartwheel ! with what brave
resolution doth he repel the proffers of Archelaus, telling him
how cheap the market afforded meal at Athens, and the fountains
water ! Here I meet with a Zeno, formerly rich in his traffick for
purple, now impoverished by an ill sea-voyage, and can hear him
say, " I sailed best when I shipwrecked." Here I see an Aristippus
drowning his gold in the sea, that it might not drown him. Here
I can hear a Democritus, or Cleanthes, when he was asked how a
man should be rich, answer, " If he be poor in desires." What
should I speak of those Indian sophists that took their name from
their nakedness, whom we hear to sayy, "The sky is our house
and the earth our bed : we care not for gold : we contemn death ?"
One of them can tell Onesicritus, "As the mother is to the child,
so is the earth to me : the mother gives milk to her infant, so doth
the earth yield all necessaries to me." And when gold was offered
to him by that great conqueror, "Persuade," said he, "if thou
canst, these birds to take thy silver and gold, that they may sing
the sweeter ; and if thou canst not do that, wouldst thou have me
worse than them ?" Adding, moreover, in. a strong discourse, " Na
tural hunger, when we have taken food, ceaseth ; and if the mind
of man did also naturally desire gold, so soon as he hath received
that which he wished, the desire and appetite of it would presently
cease : but so far is it from this satiety, that the more it hath, the
' fiptp60ios. u [Diog. Laert. lib. vi. §57.] x [Sen. de Benef. lib. vii. §24.]
y Inter Opera Ambrosii, De Moribus Brachmannorum.

576 Of Contentation.
more it doth, without any intermission, long for more ; because
this desire proceeds not from any motion of nature, but only out
of the wantonness of man's own will, to which no bounds can be set."
Blush, 0 Christian soul, whosoever thou art that readest these
lines, to hear such words falling from heathen lips, when thou
seest those that profess godliness dote upon these worthless metals,
and transported with the affection and cares of these earthly
provisions. If from these patterns of men that should be below ourselves,
we look up to the more noble precedents of prophets and apostles,
lo, there we find Elijah fed by ravens ; Elisha, boarding with his
poor Sareptan hostess ; an hundred prophets, fed by fifty in a
cave, with bread and water, 1 Kings xviii. 13; the sons of the
prophets, for the enlarging of their over-strait lodgings, hard at
work : they are their own carpenters, but their tools are borrowed,
2 Kings vi. 2-5. There we shall find a few barley loaves and little
fishes, the household provision of our Saviour's train. Yea, there
we find the most glorious apostle, the great doctor of the Gentiles,
employing his hands to feed his belly ; busily stitching of skins
for his tent- work.
Yea, what do we look at any or all of these, when we see the
Son of God, the God of all the world, in the form of a servant?
Not a cratch to cradle him in, not a grave to bury him in, was his
own; and he, that could command heaven and earth, can say,
The foxes have holes, and the birds have nests; but the Son of
man hath not where to lay his head, Matt. viii. 20.
Who now can complain of want, when he hears his Lord and
Saviour but thus provided for ? He could have brought down with
him a celestial house, and have pitched it here below, too glorious
for earthen eyes to have looked upon : he could have commanded
all the precious things that lie shrouded in the bowels of the
earth, to have made up a majestical palace for him, to the dazzling
of the eyes of all beholders : he could have taken up the stateliest
court that any earthly monarch possessed, for his peculiar ha
bitation : but his straitness was spiritual and heavenly : and he
that owned all would have nothing, that he might sanctify want
unto us, and that he might teach us, by his blessed example, to
sit down contented with any thing, with nothing.
By that time, therefore, we have laid all these things together,
and have seriously considered of the mean valuation of all these
earthly things, for their transitoriness, unsatisfaction, danger ; of

Sect. XVII.] Of Contentation. 577
the overruling providence ofthe Almighty, who most wisely, justly,
mercifully disposeth of us, and all events that befall us ; of the
worse condition of many thousand others ; of the great inconve
niences that attend great and full estates ; of the secret benefits
of poverty ; of the smallness of that pittance that may suffice
nature ; of the miseries that wait upon discontentment ; of the
merciful vicissitudes of favours wherewith God pleaseth to inter
change our sufferings ; and, lastly, the great examples of those, as
well without as within the bosom of the Church, that have gone
before us, and led us the way to contentation : our judgment can
not choose but be sufficiently convinced, that there is abundant
reason to win our hearts to a quiet and contented entertainment
of want, and all other outward afflictions.
Sect. XVII. — Of contentment in death itself.
But all these intervenient miseries are slight in comparison of
the last and utmost of evils, death. Many a one grapples cheer
fully with these trivial afflictions who yet looks pale and trembles
at the king of fear. His very name hath terror in it, but his
looks more. The courageous champion of Christ, the blessed
apostle, and with him every faithful soul, makes his challenge
universal to whatsoever estate he is in ; to the estate of death,
therefore, no less than the afflictive incidents of life. When
therefore this ghastly giant shall stalk forth, and bid defiance to
the whole host of Israel ; and when the timorous unbelievers shall
run away at the sight of him, and endeavour to hide their heads
from his presence ; the good soul, armed not with the unmeet and
cumbersome harness of flesh and blood, but with the sure though
invisible armour of God, dares come forth to meet him ; and, in
the name of the Lord of Hosts, both bids him battle, and foils
him in the combat ; and now, having laid him on the ground, can
triumphingly say, 0 death, where is thy sting ? 0 grave, where
is thy victory ?
Five smooth pebbles there are, which if we carry in our scrip,
we shall be able to quell, not only the power of death, but the
terror too.
Whereof the first is, a sure apprehension of both the unavoid
able necessity and certain benefit of death ; a necessity grounded
upon the just and eternal decree of Heaven, It is appointed to
all men once to die, Heb. ix. 27 ; and what a madness were it for
a man to think of an exemption from the common condition of
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. P p

578 Of Contentation.
mankind ! Mortality is, as it were, essential to our nature : neither
could we have had our souls but upon the terms of a redehvery
when they shall be called for. If the holiest saints or the greatest
monarchs sped otherwise, we might have some colour of repining ;
now, grieve if thou wilt, that thou art a man ; grieve not that,
being man, thou must die. Neither is the benefit inferior to the
necessity. Lo here the remedy for all our cares, the physic for
all our maladies, the rescue from all our fears and dangers ; earn
estly sued for by the painful, dearly welcome to the distressed ;
yea, lo here the cherub that keeps the gate of paradise ; there is
no entrance but under his hand ; in vain do we hope to pass to
the glory of heaven any other way than through the gates of
death. The second is, the conscience of a well-led life. Guiltiness will
make any man cowardly, unable to look danger in the face, much
more death ; whereas the innocent is as bold as a hon. What a
difference therefore there is betwixt a martyr and a malefactor !
This latter knows he hath done ill, and therefore if he can take
his death but patiently, it is well ; the former knows he hath
done well, and therefore takes his death, not patiently only, but
cheerfully. But, because no mortal man can have so innocently led his hfe,
but that he shall have passed many offences against his most holy
and righteous God, here must be, thirdly, a final peace firmly
made betwixt God and the soul. Two powerful agents must me
diate in it — a lively faith and a serious repentance ; for those sins
can never appear against us that are washed off with our tears ;
and, being justified by faith, we have peace with God through
our Lord Jesus Christ, Rom. v. J. Now if we have made the
Judge our friend, what can the sergeant do ?
The fourth is, the power and efficacy of Christ's death applied
to the soul. Wherefore died he, but that we might live ? Where
fore would he, who is the Lord of life, die, but to sanctify, season,
and sweeten death to us ? Who would go any other way than his
Saviour went before him ? Who can fear that enemy whom his
Redeemer hath conquered for him ? Who can run away from that
serpent whose sting is pulled out ? 0 death, my Saviour hath
been thy death, and therefore thou canst not be mine !
The fifth is, the comfortable expectation and assurance of a
certain resurrection and an immediate glory. I do but lay me
down to my rest; I shall sleep quietly, and rise gloriously. My soul,

Sect. XVIII.] Of Contentation. 579
in the mean time, no sooner leaves my body, than it enjoys God.
It did lately, through my bodily eyes, see my sad friends, that
bade me farewell with their tears ; now, it hath the bliss-making
vision of God. I am no sooner launched forth, than I am at the
haven where I would be. Here is that which were able to make
amends for a thousand deaths — a glory infinite, eternal, incom
prehensible. This spiritual ammunition shall sufficiently furnish the soul for
her encounter with her last enemy ; so as she shall not only en
dure, but long for this combat, and say, with the Chosen Vessel,
I desire to depart, and to be with Christ, Phil. i. 23.
Sect. XVIII. — The miseries and inconveniences ofthe con
tinued conjunction ofthe soul and body.
Now, for that long conversation causeth entireness, and the
parting of old friends and partners (such the soul and body are)
cannot but be grievous, although there were no actual pain in the
dissolution : it will be requisite for us seriously to consider the
state of this conjunction, and to inquire what good offices the one
of them doth to the other in their continued union, for which they
should be so loath to part.
And here we shall find that those two, however united to make
up one person, yet, as it falls out in cross matches, they are in
continual domestic jars one with the other, and entertain a secret
familiar kind of hostility betwixt themselves ; For the flesh lusteth
against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh ; and these
are contrary the one to the other, Gal. v. 17. One says well, that
if the body should implead the soul, it might bring many foul
impeachments against it, and sue it for many great injuries done
to that earthly part; and the soul again hath no fewer quarrels
against the body : betwixt them both there are many brawls, no
agreement. Our schools have reckoned up, therefore, eight main incommo-
dities which the soul hath cause to complain of in her conjunction
with the body,
Whereof the first is, the defilement of original sin, wherewith
the soul is not tainted as it proceeds alone from the pure hands
of its Creator ; but as it makes up a part of a son of Adam, who
brought this guilt upon human nature, so as now this composition,
which we call man, is corrupt : Who can bring a clean thing out
of that which is unclean? saith Job. p p 2

580 Of Contentation.
The second is, a proneness to sin, which but by the meeting of
these partners had never been. The soul, if single, would have
been innocent ; thus matched, what evil is it not apt to entertain !
An ill consort is enough to poison the best disposition.
The difficulty of doing well is the third; for how averse are we,
by this conjunction, from any thing that is good ! This clog hinders
us from walking roundly in the ways of God : The good that I
would do I do not, saith the Chosen Vessel ; Rom. vii. 19.
The fourth is, the dulness of our understanding, and the dimness
of our mental eyes, especially in the things pertaining unto God,
which now we are forced to behold through the veil of flesh. If
therefore we misknow, the fault is in the mean through which we
do imperfectly discover them.
The fifth is, a perpetual impugnation and self- conflict, either part
labouring to oppose and vanquish the other. This field is fought
in every man's bosom, without any possibility of peace or truce,
till the last moment of dissolution.
The sixth is, the racking solicitude of cares which continually
distract the soul, not suffering it to rest at ease while it carries
this flesh above it.
The seventh is, the multiplicity of passions which daily bluster
within us, and raise up continual tempest in our lives, disquieting
our peace, and threatening our ruin.
The eighth is, the retardation of our glory; for flesh and blood
cannot inherit the kingdom qf God. We must lay down our load
if we would enter into heaven. The seed cannot fructify unless
it die. I cannot blame nature, if it could wish not to be unclothed,
but to be clothed upon, 2 Cor. v. 4 : but so hath the Eternal
Wisdom ordered, that we should first lay down ere we can take up,
and be divested of earth ere we can partake of heaven.
Now then, sith so many and great discommodities do so una
voidably accompany this match of soul and body, and all of them
cease instantly in the act of their dissolution, what reason have
we to be too deeply affected with their parting ? yea, how should
we rather rejoice that the hour is come wherein we shall be quit
both of the guilt and temptations of sin ; wherein the clog shall be
taken away from our heels, and the veil from our eyes ; wherein
no intestine wars shall threaten us, no cares shall disquiet us, no
passions shall torment us ; and, lastly, wherein we may take the
free possession of that glory which we have hitherto looked at only
afar off from tho top of our Pisgah !

Sect. XIX.] Of Contentation. 581
Sect. XIX. — Holy dispositions for contentment . and first,
humility.
Hitherto we have dwelt in those powerful considerations which
may work us to a quiet contentment with whatsoever adverse
estate, whether of life or death ; after which, we address ourselves
to those meet dispositions which shall render us fully capable of
the blessed contentation, and shall make all these considerations
effectual to that happy purpose.
"Whereof the first is true humility ; undervaluing ourselves, and
setting a high rate upon every mercy that we receive ; for if a
man have attained unto this, that he thinks every thing too good
for him, and himself less than the least blessing, and worthy of
the heaviest judgment ; he cannot but sit down thankful for small
favours, and meekly content with mean afflictions. As, contrarily,
the proud man stands upon points with his Maker, makes God
his debtor, looks disdainfully at small blessings, as if he said,
" What! no more?" and looks angrily at the least crosses, as if
he said, " Why thus much ? "
The father of the faithful hath practically taught us this lesson
of humility, who comes to God with dust and ashes in his mouth,
Gen. xviii. 27 ; and the Jewish doctors tell us truly z, that in
every disciple of Abraham there must be three things, a good
eye, a meek spirit, and an humble soul. His grandchild Jacob,
the father of every true Israelite, had well taken it out ; while he
can say to his God, / am not worthy of the least of all the
mercies, and of all the truth, which thou hast showed unto thy
servant, Gen. xxxii. 10.
And indeed, in whomsoever it be, the best measure of grace is
humility ; for the more grace still the greater humility, and no
humility no grace. Solomon observed of old, and St. James took
it from him, that God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to
the humble, Prov. iii. 34 ; James iv. 6 ; so as he that is not
humble is not so much as capable of grace ; and he that is truly
humble is a fit subject for all graces, and amongst the rest for the
grace of contentation.
Give me a man therefore that is vile in his own eyes, that is
sensible of his own wretchedness ; that knows what it is to sin, and
what belongs to that sin whereof he is guilty ; this man shall think
z Pirke Avoth.

582 Of Contentation.
it a mercy that he is any where out of hell, shall account all the
evils that he is free from so many new favours ; shall reckon easy
corrections amongst his blessings, and shall esteem any blessing
infinitely obliging.
Whereas, contrarily, the proud beggar is ready to throw God's
alms at his head, and swells at every lash that he receives from
the divine hand.
Not without great cause, therefore, doth the royal preacher
oppose the patient in spirit to the proud in spirit, Eccl. vii. 8 ;
for the proud man can no more be patient than the patient can
be discontent with whatsoever hand of his God. Every toy puts
the proud man beside his patience ; if but a fly be found in
Pharaoh's cup, he is straight in rage, as the Jewish tradition
lays the quarrel, and sends his butler into durance ; and if the
emperor do but mistake the stirrup of our countryman, Pope
Adrian3, he shall dance attendance for his crown ; if a Mardochee
do but fail of a courtesy to Haman, all Jews must bleed to death ;
and how unquiet are our vain dames if this curl be not set right,
or that pin misplaced ! But the meek spirit is incurious, and so
thoroughly subacted, that he takes his load from God, as the
camel from his master, upon his knees ; and for men, if they
compel him to go one mile, he goes twain ; if they smite him on
the right cheek, he turns the other ; if they sue away his coat, he
parts with his cloak also, Matt. v. 39 — 41.
Heraclius, the emperor, when he was about to pass through
the golden gate, and to ride in royal state through the streets of
Jerusalem, being put in mind by Zacharias, the bishop there, of
the humble and dejected fashion wherein his Saviour walked
through those streets towards his passion, strips off his rich
robes, lays aside his crown, and with bare head and bare feet
submissively paces the same way that his Redeemer had carried
his cross towards his Golgotha. Every true Christian is ready
to tread in the deep steps of his Saviour ; as well knowing, that if
he should descend to the gates of death, of the grave, of hell, he
cannot be so humbled as the Son of God was for him.
And indeed this, and this alone, is the true way to glory.
He that is truth itself hath told us, that he ivho humbles himself
shall be exalted; and wise Solomon, Before honour is humility,
a [Nicholas Brakespcre, chosen pope r 1 54. See Baron. Ann. Eccl. Antw. ed.
1600, vol. viii. p. 292.]

Sect. XX.] Of Contentation. 583
Prov. xv. 33. The fuller treads upon that cloth which he means
to whiten ; and he that would see the stars by day must not
climb up into some high mountain, but must descend to the lower
cells of the earth. Shortly, whosoever would raise up a firm
building of contentation must be sure to lay the foundation in
humility. Sect. XX. — Of a faithful self-resignation.
Secondly, to make up a true contentment with the most adverse
estate, there is required a faithful self-resignation into the hands
of that God whose we are, who, as he hath more right in us than
ourselves, so he best knows what to do with us.
How graciously hath his mercy invited us to our own ease !
Be careful, saith he, for nothing ; but in every thing by prayer
and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made
known unto God, Phil. iv. 6. We are naturally apt in our
necessities to have recourse to greater powers than our own,
even where we have no engagement of their help ; how much
more should we cast ourselves upon the Almighty, when he not
only allows, but solicits our reliance upon him !
It was a question that might have befitted the mouth of the
best Christian, which fell from Socrates: "Since God himself is
careful for thee, why art thou solicitous for thyself?" If evils
were let loose upon us, so as it were possible for us to suffer any
thing that God were not aware of, we might have just cause to
sink under adversities ; but now, that we know every dram of our
affliction is weighed out to us by that all-wise and all-merciful
Providence, 0 our infidelity, if we do make scruple of taking in
the most bitter dose !
Here then is the right use of that main duty of Christianity,
to live by faith. Brute creatures live by sense, mere men by
reason, Christians by faith. Now, faith is the substance of
things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen, Heb. xi. 1 .
In our extremities we hope for God's gracious deliverance ; faith
gives a subsistence to that deliverance before it be. The mercies
that God hath reserved for us do not yet show themselves ; faith
is the evidence of them, though yet unseen.
It was the motto of the learned and godly divine, Mr. Perkins,
Fidei vita vera vita; " The true life is the life of faith ;"" a word
which that worthy servant of God did both write and live.
Neither indeed is any other life truly vital but this ; for hereby
we enjoy God in all whatsoever occurrences. Are we abridged

584 Of Contentation.
of means ? we feed upon the cordial promises of our God. Do we
sigh and groan under varieties of grievous persecutions ? out of
the worst of them we can pick out comforts, while we can hear
our Saviour say, Blessed are they which are persecuted for
righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven, Matt.
v. 10. Are we deserted and abandoned of friends? we see him
by us who hath said, / will never leave thee nor forsake thee,
Heb. xiii. 5. Do we droop under spiritual desertions ? we hear
the God of truth say, For a small moment have I forsaken thee,
but with great mercy will I gather thee ; in a little wrath I
hid my face from thee, but with everlasting kindness will I have
mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer, Isa. liv. 7, 8.
Are we driven from home? If we take the wings of the morning
and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there also
shall thy hand lead us, and thy right hand shall hold us, Ps.
cxxxix. 9, 10. Are we dungeoned up from the sight of the sun?
Peradventure tlie darkness shall cover us ; but then shall our
night be turned into day; yea, the darkness is no darkness with
thee; vv. 11, 12. Are we cast down upon the bed of sickness?
He that is our God is the God of salvation, and unto God the
Lord belong the issues from death, Ps. lxviii. 20.
It cannot be spoken, how injurious those men are to themselves
that will be managing their own cares, and plotting the preven
tion of their fears, and projecting their own both indemnity and
advantages ; for, as they lay an unnecessary load on their own
shoulders, so they draw upon themselves the miseries of an unre-
mediable disappointment. Alas ! how can their weakness make
good -those events which they vainly promise to themselves, or
avert those judgments they would escape, or uphold them
in those evils they must undergo ? Whereas, if we put all this
upon a gracious God, he contrives it with ease ; looking for
nothing from us but our trust and thankfulness.
Section XXI. — Of true inward riches.
In the third place, it will be most requisite to furnish the soul
with true inward riches : I mean not of mere moral virtues,
which yet are truly precious when they are found in a good heart;
but of a wealth as much above them as gold is above dross, yea,
as the thing which is most precious is above nothing.
And this shall be done, if we bring Christ home to the soul ; if
we can possess ourselves of him who is God all-sufficient. For,

Sect. XXL] Of Contentation. 585
such infinite contentment there is in the Son of God made ours,
that whosoever hath tasted of the sweetness of this comfort is
indifferent to all earthly things ; and so, insensible of those ex
treme differences of events wherewith others are perplexed. How
can he be dejected with the want of anything who is possessed of
him that possesseth all things ? how can he be over-affected with
trivial profits or pleasures, who is taken up with the God of all
comfort ?
Is Christ mine, therefore ? how can I fail of all contentment ?
How can he complain to want light that dwells in the midst of
the sun ? How can he complain of thirst, out of whose belly flow
rivers of living waters? John vii. 38. What can I wish that
my Christ is not to me? Would I have meat and drink? My
flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed, John vi. 55.
Would I have clothing ? But, put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ,
saith the apostle, Rom. xiii. 14. Would I have medicine ? He is
the Tree of Life, the leaves whereof are for the healing of
the nations, Rev. xxii. 2. Would I have safety and protec
tion ? He truly is my strength and my salvation : he is my
defence, so as I shall not fall. In God is my health and my
glory ; the rock of my might; and in God is my trust, Ps. Ixii.
6, 7. Would I have direction? / am the way, and the truth,
John xiv. 6. Would I have life ? Christ is to me to live, Philipp.
i. 21. I am the resurrection and the life, John xi. 25. Would
I have all spiritual good things ? We are in Christ Jesus, who of
God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctifi
cation, and redemption, 1 Cor. i. 30.
0, the happy condition of the man that is in Christ, and hath
Christ in him ; shall I account him rich that hath store of oxen
and sheep and horses and camels ; that hath heaps of metals, and
some spots of ground ? and shall I not account him infinitely more
rich, that owns and enjoys him whose the earth is, and the fulness
of it ; whose heaven is, and the glory of it ? Shall I justly ac
count that man great, whom the king will honour and place near
to himself? and shall I not esteem that man more honourable
whom the King of Heaven is pleased to admit unto such partner
ship of glory, as to profess, To him that overcometh will I
grant to sit with wie in my throne; even as I also overcame,
and am set down with my Father in his throne, Rev. iii. 3 1 .
It is a true word of St. Augustin, that every soul is either

586 Of Contentation..
Christ's spouse or the devil's harlot. Now, if we be matched to
Christ, the Lord of glory ; what a blessed union is here ! What
can he withhold from us that hath given us himself ? I could envy
the devotion of that man, though otherwise misplaced, whom St.
Bernard heard to spend the night in no other words, than, Deus
mens et omnia ; " My God, and all things." Certainly, he who
hath that God hath more than all things ; he that wants him,
whatever else he seems to possess, hath less than nothing.
Sect. XXII. — Holy resolutions, i. That our present estate
is best for us.
After these serious considerations and meet dispositions, shall,
in the last place, follow certain firm resolutions, for the full actu
ating our contentment.
And, first, we must resolve, out of the unfailable grounds of
Divine Providence formerly spoken of, that the present estate
wherein we are is certainly the best for us ; and, therefore, we
must herein absolutely captivate our understanding and will to
that of the Highest.
How unmeet judges are flesh and blood of the best fitness of a
condition for us ! As some palates, which are none of the whole-
somest, like nothing but sweetmeats ; so our nature would be
fed up wjth the only delicacies of pleasures and prosperity : ac
cording to the false principle of Aristippus, that he only is happy
which is delighted. But the all-wise God knows another diet,
more fit for our health ; and therefore graciously tempers our
dishes with the tart sauces of affliction. The mother of the
two sons of Zebedee and her ambitious children are all for the
chief peerage in the temporal kingdom of Christ; but he calls
them to a bitter cup and a bloody baptism, rather : and this was
a far greater honour than that they sued for.
There is no earthly estate absolutely good for all persons ; like
as no gale can serve for all passengers. In Africa they say, the
north wind brings clouds, and the south wind clears up. That
plant which was starved in one soil, in another prospers : yea,
that which in some climate is poison, proves wholesome in another.
Some one man, if he had another's blessings, would run wild ;
and if he had some other man's crosses would be desperate.
The infinite wisdom of the great Governor of the world allots
every one his due proportion. The fitches are not thrashed with

Sect. XXII.] Of Contentation. 587
a thrashing instrument, neither is a cart wheel turned about
upon the cummin ; but the fitches are beaten out with a staff,
and the cummin with a rod, saith Isaiah, ch. xxviii. 27.
And no otherwise in matter of prosperity : Joseph's coat may
be party-coloured, and Benjamin's mess may be five times so much
as any of his brethren, Gen. xliii. 34. It is marvel if they, who
did so much envy Joseph for his dream of superiority, did not
also envy Benjamin for so large a service, and so rich gifts at his
parting : this, it seems, gave occasion for the good patriarch's
fear, when he charged them, See that you fall not out by the
way, Gen. xiv. 24. But, there had been no reason for so impo
tent an envy : while the gift is free, and each speeds above his
desert, who can have cause to repine ? It is enough that Joseph
knew a just reason of so unequal a distribution, though it were
hidden from themselves. The elder brother may grudge the fat
calf and the prime robe to the returned unthrift, but the father
knows reason to make that difference.
God is infinitely just and infinitely merciful in dispensing both
his favours and punishment. In both kinds, every man hath
that which is fittest for him ; because it is that which God's will
hath designed to him ; and that will is the most absolute rule of
justice. Now, if we can so frame our will to his, as to think so too, how
can we be other than contented ? Do we suffer ? There is more
intended to us than our smart. It was a good speech of Seneca,
though a heathen, (what pity it is that he was so!) "I give
thanks to my infirmity, which forces me not to be able to do
that which I ought not will to do." If we lose without, so as we
gain within ; if, in the perishing of the outward man, the inward
man be renewed (2 Cor. iv. 16.), we have no cause to complain,
much to rejoice. Do I live in a mean estate ? If it were better,
I should be worse ; more proud, more careless : and what a
woful improvement were this ! What a strange creature would
man be, if he were what he would wish himself! Surely, he
would be wickedly pleasant, carelessly profane, vainly proud,
proudly oppressive, dissolutely wanton, impetuously self-willed ;
and, shortly, his own idol and his own idolater. His Maker
knows how to frame him better : it is our ignorance and unthank
fulness if we submit not to his good pleasure.
To conclude, we pray every day, Thy will be done; what
hypocrites are we, if we pray one thing and act another ! if we

588 Of Contentation.
murmur at what we wish ! All is well between heaven and us, if
we can think ourselves happy to be what God will have us.
Sect. XXIII. — 2. Resolution to abate of our desires.
Secondly, we must resolve to abate of our desires: for it is
the illimitedness of our ambitious and covetous thoughts that is
guilty of our unquietness.
Every man would be and have more than he is, and is there
fore sick of what he is not. It is a true word of Democritus,
" If we desire not much, we shall think a little much :" and it is
suitable to one of the rules of St. Augustin, " It is better to need
less than to have more." Paul, "the richest poor man," as Am
brose11 well, could say, As having all things, yet possessing nothing.
It is not for a Christian to be of the dragon's temper, which,
they say, is so ever thirsty, that no water will quench his drought,
and therefore never hath his mouth shut ; nor, with the daughters
of the horseleech, to cry always, Give, give, Prov. xxx. 15. He
must confine his desires, and that to no over-large compass ; and
must say to them, as God doth to the sea, Hitherto shalt thou
come, and no furtlier; and here shall thy proud ivaves be
stayed, Job xxxviii. u.
What a cumber it is for a man to have too much ! to be in the
case of Surena, the Parthian lord, that could never remove his
family with less than a thousand camels ! What is this, but, tor
toise-like, to be clogged with a weighty shell, which we cannot
drag after us but with pain ? or, like the ostrich, to be so held
down with an heavy body, that we can have no use of our wings ?
whereas the nimble lark rises and mounts with ease, and sings
cheerfully in her flight.
How many have we known that have found too much flesh a
burden! and when they have found their blood too rank, have
been glad to pay for the letting it out ! It was the word of that
old and famous lord keeper Bacon, the eminent head of a noble
and witty family, Mediocria firma. There is neither safety nor
true pleasure in excess. It was a wise and just answer of Zeno the
philosopher, who, reproving. the superfluity of a feast, and hearing
by way of defence that the maker of it was a great rich man, and
might well spare it, said, " If thy cook shall oversalt thy broth,
and when he is chid for it shall say, ' I have store enough of salt
lying by me,' wouldest thou take this for a fair answer ?"
b Ambros. de Vitiorum et Virtutum Conflictu.

Sect. XXIII.] Of Contentation. 589
My son, eat thou honey, saith Solomon, because it is good,
Prov. xxiv. 13, but, to be sure, for the preventing of all immode
ration, he adds soon after, Hast thou found honey ? eat so much
as is sufficient for thee, lest thou be filled therewith, Prov. xxv. 16.
If our appetite carry us too far, we may easily surfeit. This, which
is the emblem of pleasure, must be tasted, as Dionysius the sophist
said of old, on the tip of the finger, not to be supped up in the
hollow of the hand.
It is with our desires as it is with weak stomachs, the quantity
offends, even where the food is not unwholesome ; and if heed be
not taken, one bit draws on another, till nature be overlaid. Both
pleasures and profits, if way be given to them, have too much
power to debauch the mind, and to work it to a kind of insatiable-
ness. There is a thirst that is caused with drunkenness ; and the
wanton appetite, like as they said of Messalina, may be wearied,
but cannot be satisfied. It is good therefore to give austere re
pulses to the first overtures of inordinate desires, and to give
strong denials to the first unruly motions of our hearts : for St.
Chrysostom, well, "Pleasure is like a dog, which, being coyed
and stroked, follows us at the heels ; but if rated and beaten off,
is driven away from us with ease.''
It is for the Christian heart to be taken up with other desires ;
such as wherein there can be no danger of immoderateness : these
are the holy longings after grace and goodness. This only co
vetousness, this ambition is pleasing to God, and infinitely bene
ficial to the soul : Blessed are they which hunger and thirst after
righteousness : for they shall be filled, Matt. v. 6. Spiritual bless
ings are the true riches, whereof we can never have enough.
St. Ambrose0 said truly, "No man is indeed wealthy that cannot
carry away what he hath with him. What is left behind is not
ours, but other men's. Contemn thou, while thou art alive, that
which thou canst not enjoy when thou art dead."
As for this earthly trash, and the vain delights of the flesh,
which we have so fondly doted on, we cannot carry them indeed
away with us, but the sting of the guilty misenjoying of them
will be sure to stick by us, and, to our sorrow, attend us both in
death and judgment. In sum therefore, if we would be truly con
tented and happy, our hearts can never be enough enlarged in
our desires of spiritual and heavenly things, never too much con
tracted in our desires of earthly.
0 Ambros. Epist. 27. [Basil. 1567. lib. iii. ep. 10. torn. iii. p. 77.]

590 Of Contentation.
Sect. XXIV. — 3. Resolution to inure ourselves to digest
smaller discontentments.
Our third resolution must be, to inure ourselves to digest
smaller discontentments, and, by the exercise thereof, to enable
ourselves for greater : as those that drink medicinal waters begin
first with smaller quantities, and by degrees arise, at last, to tbe
highest of their prescribed measure : or, as the wise Lacedemo
nians, by early scourgings of their boys, inured them in their riper
years to more painful sufferings. A strong Milo takes up his
calf at first, and by continual practice is now able to carry it when
it is grown a bull.
Such is our self-love, that we affect ever to be served of the
best ; and that we are apt to take great exceptions at small fail
ings. We would walk always in smooth and even paths, and
would have no hinderances in our passage ; but there is no remedy,
we must meet with rubs, and perhaps cross shins, and take
falls too in our way. Every one is willing and desirous to enjoy,
as they say the city of Rhodes doth, a perpetual sunshine : but
we cannot, if we be wise, but know, that we must meet with change
of weather, with rainy days, and sometimes storms and tempests.
It must be our wisdom to make provision accordingly, and some
whiles to abide a wetting, that, if need be, we may endure a
drenching also.
It was the policy of Jacob, when he was to meet with his brother
Esau, whom he feared an enemy, but found a friend, to send
the droves first, then his handmaids and their children, then
Leah with her children ; and at last came Joseph and Rachel,
Gen. xxxii. 14, &c. and xxxiii. 5, 6, &c, as one that would ad
venture the less dear in the first place, and, if it must be, to pre
pare himself for his dearest loss. St. Paul's companions in his
perilous sea voyage first lighten the ship of less necessaries ; then
they cast out the tackling ; then the wheat ; and in the last place
themselves, Acts xxvii. 18,19. It is the use that wise Socrates made
of the sharp tongues of his cross and unquiet wives, to prepare
his patience for public sufferings. Surely he that cannot endure
a frown will hardly take a blow, and he that doubles under a
light cross will sink under a heavier ; and, contrarily, that good
martyr prepares his whole body for the fagot with burning his
hand in the candle.
I remember Seneca, in one of his epistles, rejoices much to tell

Sect. XXIV.] Of Contentation. 591
with what patient temper he took it, that coming unexpectedly to
his country house, he found all things so discomposed, that no
provision was ready for him ; finding more contentment in his own
quiet apprehension of these wants, than trouble in that unreadi
ness : and thus should we be affected upon all occasions. Those
that promised me help have disappointed me; that friend on
whom I relied hath failed my trust ; the sum that I expected comes
not in at the day; my servant slackens the business enjoined him ;
the beast that I esteemed highly is lost ; the vessel in which I
shipped some commodities is wrecked ; my diet and attendance
must be abated ; I must be dislodged of my former habitation.
How do I put over these occurrences ? If I can make light work of
these lesser crosses, I am in a good posture to entertain greater.
To this purpose it will be not a little expedient to thwart our
appetite in those things wherein we placed much delight, and to
torture our curiosity in the delay of those contentments which we
too eagerly affected. It was a noble and exemplary government
of these passions which we find in king David; who being ex
tremely thirsty, and longing for a speedy refreshment, could say,
0 that one would give me drink of tlie water of the well of
Bethlehem! but when he saw that water purchased with the
hazard of the lives of three of his worthies, when it was brought
to him he would not drink it, but poured it out unto the Lord,
2 Sam. xxiii. 15, 16, 17. Have I a mind to some one curious dish
above the rest ? I will put my knife to my throat, and not humour
my palate, so far as to taste of it. Do I receive a letter of news
from a far country overnight ? it shall keep my pillow warm till
the morning. Do my importunate recreations call me away ?
they shall, against the hair, be forcibly adjourned till a further
leisure. Out of this ground it was that the ancient votaries observed
such austerity and rigour in their diet, clothes, lodging ; as those
that knew how requisite it is that nature should be held short of
her demands, and continually exercised with denials, lest she grow
too wanton and impetuous in her desires. That which was of old
given as a rule to monastic persons is fit to be extended to all
Christians : they may not have a will of their own, but must
frame themselves to such a condition and carriage as seems best
to their superior.
If therefore it please my God to send me some little comfort,
I shall take that as an earnest of more ; and if he exercise me

592 Of Contentation.
with lesser crosses, I shall take them as preparatives to greater ;
and endeavour to be thankful for the one and patient in the other,
and contented with God's hand in both.
Sect. XXV. — 4. Resolution to be frequent and fervent inprayer.
Our last resolution must be, to be frequent and fervent in our
prayers to the Father of all mercies, that he will be pleased to
work our hearts, by the power of his Spirit, to this constant state
of contentation, without which we can neither consider the things
that belong to our inward peace, nor dispose ourselves towards it,
nor resolve aught for the effecting it ; without which all our con
siderations, all our dispositions, all our resolutions are vain and
fruitless. Justly therefore doth the blessed apostle, after his charge
of avoiding all carefulness for these earthly things, enforce the ne
cessity of our prayers and supplications, and making our requests
known unto God, Phil. iv. 6, who both knows our need, and puts
these requests into our mouths. When we have all done, they
are the requests of our hearts that must free them from cares,
and frame them to a perfect contentment.
There may be a kind of dull and stupid neglect, which possessing
the soul may make it insensible of evil events in some natural dis
positions ; but a true temper of a quiet and peaceable estate of
the soul, upon good grounds, can never be attained without the
inoperation of that Holy Spirit from whom every good gift and
every perfect giving proceedeth, James i. 17.
It is here contrary to these earthly occasions ; with men, he
that is ever craving is never contented ; but with God, he cannot
want contentment that prays always.
If we be not unacquainted with ourselves, we are so conscious
of our own weakness, that we know every puff of temptation is
able to blow us over : they are only our prayers that must stay
us from being carried away with the violent assaults of discontent
ment ; under which, a praying soul can no more miscarry, than
an indevout soul can enjoy safety.
Sect. XXVI. — The difficulty of knowing how to abound:
and tlie ill consequences of not knowing it.
Let this be enough for the remedy of those distempers which
arise from an adverse condition.
As for prosperity, every man thinks himself wise and able
enough to know how to govern it, and himself in it. An happy
estate, we imagine, will easily manage itself without too much

Sect. XXIV.] Of Contentation. 593
care. Give me but sea-room, saith the confident mariner, and let
me alone, whatever tempest arise.
Surely the great doctor of the Gentiles had never made this
holy boast of his divine skill, / know how to abound, if it had
been so easy a matter as the world conceives it. Mere ignorance
and want of self-experience is guilty of this error.
Many a one abounds in wealth and honour who abounds no
less in miseries and vexation. Many a one is carried away with
an unruly greatness, to the destruction of body, soul, estate.
The world abounds every where with men that do abound, and
yet do not know how to abound; and those especially in three
ranks ; the proud, the covetous, the prodigal : the proud is
thereby transported to forget God, the covetous his neighbour,
the prodigal himself.
Both wealth and honour are of a swelling nature, raising a
man up, not only above others, but above himself; equalling him
to the powers immortal ; yea, exalting him above all that is
called God. 0, that vile dust and ashes should be raised to
that height of insolence as to hold contestation with its Maker !
Who is the Lord ? saith the king of Egypt, Exodus v. 2. I
shall be like to the highest : I am ; and there is none besides
me, saith the king of Babylon, Isa. xiv. 14; xlvii. 8. The voice
of God and not of man goes down with Herod, Acts xii. 22.
And how will that Spirit trample upon men that dare vie with
the Almighty ! Hence are all the heavy oppressions, bloody
tyrannies, imperious domineerings, scornful insultations, merciless
outrages, that are so rife amongst men, even from hence, that
they know not how to abound.
The covetous man abounds with bags, and no less with sorrows,
verifying the experience of wise Solomon : There is a sore evil,
which I have seen under tlie sun, riches kept for the owners
thereof, to their hurt, Eccles. v. 13. What he hath got with
injustice he keeps with care, leaves with grief, and reckons for
with torment. I cannot better compare these money-mongers
than to bees ; they are busy gatherers, but it is for themselves ;
their masters can have no part of their honey till it be taken
from them, and they have a sting ready for every one that
approaches their hive ; and their lot at the last is burning.
What maceration is there here with fears and jealousies ! what
cruel extortion and oppression exercised upon others ! and all from
no other ground than this, that they know not how to abound !
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. Q q

594 Of Contentation.
The prodigal feasts and sports like an Athenian, spends like
an emperor, and is ready to say, as Heliogabalus did of old,
" Those cates are best that cost dearest Y ;" caring more for an
empty reputation of a short gallantry, than for the comfortable
subsistence of himself, his family, his posterity ; like Cheops, the
vain Egyptian king, which was fain to prostitute his daughter
for the finishing of his pyramid. This man lavisheth out, not his
own means alone, but his poor neighbour's ; running upon the
score with all trades that concern back or belly ; undoing more
with his debts than he can pleasure with his entertainments ;
none of all which should be done if he knew how to abound.
Great skill, therefore, is required to the governing of a plentiful
and prosperous estate, so as it may be safe and comfortable to
the owner, and beneficial unto others. Every corporal may know
how to order some few files, but to marshal many troops in a
regiment, many regiments in a whole body of an army, requires
the skill of an experienced general. But the rules and limits of
Christian moderation, in the use of our honours, pleasures, profits,
I have at large laid forth in a former discourse. Thither I must
crave leave to send the benevolent reader, beseeching God to
bless unto him these and all other labours, to the happy further
ance of his grace and salvation. Amen.
y jElius Lamprid.

THE PEACEMAKER,

LAYING FORTH

THE RIGHT WAY OF PEACE, IN MATTERS
OF RELIGION.

BY JOSEPH, BISHOP OF NORWICH.

I have perused this discourse, entitled "The Peacemaker," and observing
it to be, in respect of the subject matter, pious, profitable, and very seasonable
in these distracted and distempered times, and in the manner of handling it
sober, learned, and impartially judicious, I allow it to be printed and pub
lished.
JOHN DOWNAME.

To my reverend Brethren ofthe diocese of Norwich.

Worthy Brethren, — Ye cannot but have taken notice of the silence that
hath lately possessed my tongue, which was wont to be vocal enough. Be
sides some external reasons, it is my care and zeal of peace that stops my
mouth for the time, and bids me refrain even from good words. In the
mean while, the same dear respect to peace employs my hand, and bids it
supply the place of my tongue, as that which shall speak louder, and to more
eyes, than my tongue could to ears : both of them are heartily devoted to
peace, and strive whether shall more express it.
It was ever the desire of my soul, even from my first entrance upon the
public service of the Church, according to my known signature, with Noah's
dove, to have brought an olive-branch to the tossed ark ; and God knows
how sincerely I have endeavoured it ; but if my wings have been too short,
and the wind too high for me to carry it home, I must content myself with
the conscience of my faithful devotions. Some little hint whereof, notwith
standing, I have thought fit to give to the world in this present discourse,
lest I should seem to be, like itself, all pretence ; and that I might, by this
essay of mine, open the way to some more able undertakers. Q q 2

596
Now therefore let me recommend this subject to your eeriousest thoughts,
and beseech you all, in the bowels of our common Saviour, to join with me
in the zealous prosecution of what I here treat of, peace.
It is an useful rule of our Romish casuists, that he who will have benefit of
their large indulgences must porrigere manus adjutrices. Surely it holds
much better in the present case. Whoever will hope to reap the comfort of
this incomparable blessing of peace must put forth his helping hand towards
the procuring of it. O let not our studies, nor prayers, nor tears, nor
counsels, nor solicitations, nor engagements, nor endeavours be wanting to
it ; no, nor, if need were, our blood. What the price of it is, sith the fruition
of it did not teach us, we have too well learnt in the want.
Alas, my brethren, we cannot help one another sufficiently to condole the
miseries under which we, yea this whole church, yea this whole bleeding
monarchy, yea the. whole Christian world, at this time groaneth, by reason
of that woful and deadly debate that rageth every where. All the whole
earth is on fire ; the flame reacheth up to heaven, and calls for more thence.
Woe is me ! our very punishment is our sin. What should we do, but pour
out floods of tears towards the quenching of it, and say, with the lamenting
prophet, O that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that
I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people .' Jer.
ix. I.
But as Chrysostom said long ago in the like case to Innocentius, It is not
wailing will serve the turn, if we do not bestir ourselves what we may for
redress. When we see our house on fire, do we stand still and cry ? do we
not ring bells, and call neighbours, and bring ladders, and fetch buckets, and
pour on water, and pull down reeds and rafters, and whatever may feed that
flame ? And why should we not do so in this common conflagration ? O,
let every man of us put his hand to the work, and labour to withdraw that
hellish fuel which nourisheth and increaseth this fearful combustion ; and if
each man can but pull away one stick, it shall be his comfort and joy in that
great day. But far, far be it from us, that any of us should misemploy him
self as an incendiary.
It is felony, by our municipal laws", for a man to burn but the frame of a
building intended for an house : how heinously flagitious shall the God of
heaven account it, to set on fire his complete spiritual house the Church,
whereof every believer is a living stoneb ! Doubtless, how slight account
soever the world makes of these spiritual distempers, it shall be easier in the
day of judgment for thieves and whoremongers and adulterers, than for the
breakers of public peace. Never was there any so fearful vengeance inflicted
upon any malefactors as upon Koiah and his combination. Surely, if we
consider the sin in itself, other offences had been far more heinous, but in that
it was a presumptuous mutiny, tending to the affront of allowed authority,
to the violation of peace, and to the destruction of community, the earth could
not stand under it, hell only is fit to receive it.
I speak not this to intimate the least suspicion, much less accusation, of
337 Hen. VIII. 6. Simplicit. Prcelatorum. Possidere non
b Inexpiabilis et gravis oulpa discor- potest indumentum Christi, qui scindit et
diae, nee passione purgatur. Oypr. de dividit Ecclesiam Christi. Ibid. Cypr.

597
any of you, my dear brethren, but by way of a tender precaution and
loving cohortation to excite you and myself to the improvement of all the
powers of our souls, for the recovery and perpetuation of the Church's peace ;
a duty which both our blessed Saviour and his holy apostles hath so vehe
mently urged, as if there were no life of Christianity without it, Matt. x. 13 ;
Mark ix. 50 ; Luke x. 6 ; John xiv. 27 ; Rom. iii. 17 ; xiv. 19 ; 1 Cor. vii. 15;
2 Cor. xiii. 1 1 ; Gal. v. 22 ; Eph. iv. 3 ; I Thess. v. 13 ; 2 Tim. ii. 22 ; Heb.
xii. 14 ; James iii. 18 ; 1 Pet. iii. 1 J . f
As we honour the God of love and peace whom we serve ; as we love
the Prince of peace, in whom we believe ; as we tender the success of the
gospel of peace, which we preach ; as we wish and hope for the comfort of
the peace of God in our own bosoms ; let us seek peace where it is missing ;
let us follow after it when it flies from us ; let us never leave the chase, by
importuning God and men, till we overtake it, till we reenjoy it, and all the
blessings that accompany it : which shall be ever the prayer and endeavour of
Your faithful and loving Fellow- Labourer, JOS. NOR.

The Contents of the several sections following :
Sect. I. — The difference of truths, and the importance of those which concern
matter of religion, p. 598.
Sect. II — What differences of judgment make a different religion, p. 600.
Sect. III. — Of the fundamental points of religion, p. 601.
Sect. IV. — The injurious uncharitableness of the Romish church, in excluding
Christian churches, and condemning their professors, p. 602.
Sect. V. — The undue alienation of the Lutheran churches from the other re
formed, p. 606.
Sect. VI. — The differences betwixt the other reformed churches and our own,
p. 609.
Sect. VII  The differences within our own church at home, p. 611.
Sect. "VIII. — Of the ways of peace that concern private persons : the first
whereof is to labour against the inward grounds of contention : whereof the
first is pride ; the second, self-love, p. 613.
Sect. IX. — The third inward ground of contention, envy and malice : the
fourth ground of contention, covetousness, p. 616.
Sect. X. — The second private way of peace, the composing ourselves to a fit
disposition for peace ; and therein, first, to a meek and humble temper, p. 619.
Sect. XI. — The second disposition for peace, is obedience to our spiritual guides,
p. 621.
Sect. XII. — The third disposition for peace, a charitable affection to our
brethren, p. 623.
Sect. XIII. — The fourth disposition for peace, an yieldableness upon sight of
clearer truths, p. 626.
Sect. XIV. — The third way or rule of peace, the avoiding of unnecessary
questions, p. 628.

598 The Peacemaker.
Sect. XV. — The fourth private way of peace, to labour and pray for further
illumination in all requisite truths, p. 631.
Sect. XVI. — The fifth rule or way of peace, to comply with our brethren so far
as we lawfully may, p. 634.
Sect. XVII. — The last private way of peace, to let fall our own interest for the
public, p. 636.
Sect. XVIII. — The first public way of peace ; to suppress the beginnings of
spiritual quarrels; which shall be done, if, first, the broachers of new opinions
be by fair means reclaimed, p. 639.
Sect. XIX. — The second way of suppression of strange doctrines, by timely
cutting off the means of spreading infection : whereof the first is the society of
the infected, p. 642.
Sect. XX. — The second means of infection to be suppressed, which is, by the
press, p. 644.
Sect. XXI. — The third way of timely suppressing the means of infection, which
is, the punishing of the disturbers of peace, p. 646.
Sect. XXft. — Ofthe punishment of pertinacious maintainers of dangerous errors,
p. 648.
Sect. XXIII. — The second public means of peace ; order for sure grounds of
religion to be laid by catechising, p. 65 1 .
Sect. XXIV. — The third public way of peace ; means to be appointed for the
strong conviction of errors, p. 653.
Sect. XXV. — The fourth public way of peace ; imposition of silence in some
cases upon pulpits and presses, p. 656.
Sect. XXVI — A motive to peace from the miseries of discord, p. 659.

Section I.
The difference of truths, and the importance of those
which concern matter of religion.
There is as much difference in the value of truths as there is
of coins : whereof one piece is but a farthing, another no less than
a pound, yet both current, and in their kind useful.
Theological truths are so much more precious than all others,
by how much divine knowledge is more excellent than all human
arts and sciences whatsoever.
Amongst divine truths, those are most important which are
requisite to the regulating of religion, both in the theory and
practice thereof. And even amongst these there is just place
for Canus's distinction betwixt truths of Christian doctrine, and
truths of catholic faith ; there being in the former great latitude
and variety, in the latter, more narrowness and restraint.
As there is no truth therefore which may be a meet subject of
our contempt or opposition, so there are some truths which may

Sect. I.] The Peacemaker. 599
be too much striven for, others never enough. Of which last kind
are those which do mainly concern the grounds of our Christian
religion ; for if the soul be the better part, if not the whole, of
man; and religion be that which is of highest concernment to the
everlasting good of the soul, it must needs follow that the soul
can never be better taken up than with the care of that religion
which only can render it eternally happy.
If therefore the Christian Cicero, Lactantius, went too far in
making religion the form of man, instead of the reasonable soul
wherewith he is animated; certainly we cannot err in making
the investigation and finding out the true religion the highest
improvement of which the reasonable soul can be capable.
There is no man then, except perhaps some lawless atheist,
which doth not busy himself in this necessary search, and find
his heart unquiet till he have attained such a resolution in the
choice and assurance of his rehgion, wherein he may find rest to
his soul ; like as the dove could find no stay for the sole of her
feet upon the waves, but flutters up and down till she may settle
in the ark, Gen. viii. 9.
Neither is it more natural to us to seek for and to pitch upon
that religion which we apprehend true, than it is to desire that
which we have conceived to be the only truth should be commu
nicated to others, and either to pity or deeply censure those who
come not home to us in the same belief.
Hence are those many and miserable distractions which we find
all the world over. Hence are churches, congregations, families,
persons torn asunder one from another, so as the whole earth is
strewed over with the woful monuments of our discerptions :
here lies a leg, there an arm ; here an hand, there a foot ; here
an head, there an heart : yea, in a more accurate subdivision,
here lies a finger disjoined from the hand, a toe from the foot ;
yea more, a joint severed from either. How happy were it if
that powerful Spirit, that breathed upon the dry scattered bones
in Ezekiel's vision, might once blow upon these dismembered limbs,
that they might yet come together and live ! Ezek. xxxvii. 7.
In the mean time, it is the duty of every son of peace to en
deavour, what in him lies, to reduce all the members of God's
Church upon earth to a blessed unity, both in judgment and
affections. This is the holy labour which I have here undertaken.
The God of peace put life into it, and make it as effectual as it is
heartily meant, to the good of every Christian soul.

600 The Peacemaker.
Sect. II. — What differences of judgment make a different
religion.
It is not to be expected but that as every man hath a soul of
his own, so he should have several conceits and opinions, as con
cerning whatsoever subject, so especially in matter of religion ;
wherein sense and reason have less stroke than in all secular
objects ; neither is it possible, that all men's minds should be con
fined to the same passages or issues of ratiocination. That active
spirit, wherewith we are informed, will take scope to itself of moving
and alighting where it likes.
But it is not the varieties or differences of petty and unimportant
opinions, how many soever, that can make several religions. These
may trouble the spring, but cannot divert the channel. They
must be quarrels of an higher nature that can pretend reason to
make an universal breach in God's Church, and to warrant the
denomination of a different religion. Like as it is in the family;
there may be some small household jars upon trivial occasions be
twixt the dearest yokefellows ; yet these break not the domestic
peace, much less can be the ground of a divorce.
To speak plainly and fully. The Church, and the religion
which constitutes it, is God's building ; the building of God must
needs be perfect ; a perfect building must have a foundation,
walls, roof ; a foundation to uphold the walls, and walls to uphold
the roof, and a roof laid upon those walls. None of these can be
wanting in a complete fabric ; for what is a foundation without
walls 1 or to what purpose were a roof set upon a mere groundsel ?
When all these are fully made up, the frame is entire, and now fit
for furniture and ornament.
But if some curious purchaser shall come afterwards, and say,
" This roof is too high, lay it somewhat flatter ;" or, " These
spars or studs stand too thin, put in more;" or, "This window
is not uniform, set it somewhat lower ;" will any wise man say,
when all this is accordingly done, it is not the same house it was?
Small alterations, whether in matter or form, cannot reach so far
as to forfeit the name of an old edifice, or to impose the title of a
new ; but if the roof be taken away, the walls demolished, the
foundation digged up, and the same materials employed upon
another structure as near as is possible to the former model,
every beholder will justly call this house new.
The similitude applies itself. Little differences of opinion in

Sect. III.] The Peacemaker. 601
immaterial points are not of power to make another religion, but
if there be any who having pulled down the frame of orthodox
belief will be laying instead thereof a foundation of false princi
ples, and raise upon them the walls of heretical doctrine, this
man is of a religion not more different than abominable : 0 my
soul, come not thou into the secret of any such men ; unto their
assembly, mine honour, be not thou united, Gen. xlix. 6.
Sect. III. — Of the fundamental points of religion.
But because this matter is of so high concernment, that it
imports no less than our souls are worth, let us yet look more
deeply into and inquire punctually, what it is that makes one or
a several church.
And we shall find that to be one church wherein is an agree
ment in all the essentials of religion. And those the great
doctor of the Gentiles hath determined to be one Lord, one
faith, one baptism ; that is, a subjection to one Lord, prescribed
in "the Decalogue, a belief of the same articles set down in the
Creed, a joint use and celebration of the holy sacraments, the
initiatory whereof is baptism, so as where there is an acknow
ledgment of the same living Lord, the God of heaven, whom we
profess to depend upon for all things, to serve and obey accord
ing to his commandments, to invoke in our prayers for the supply
of all our necessities; where there is a profession of the same
faith in all the main points of Christian doctrine, summed up in
that symbol of the holy apostles ; where there is a communion in
the same blessed sacraments instituted by our Lord Jesus ; there
is one and the same Church of Christ, however far disterminate
in places, however segregated and infinitely severalized in persons,
however differing in rites and circumstances of worship, however
squaring in by-opinion.
This is a truth which is, with much consent and serious
vehemence, inculcated by all our orthodox divines ; amongst
whom none hath so fully cleared the point as the late honour
of our schools, the learned bishop Davenant, in that last golden
tractate c which he wrote, now breathing towards the gates of
his heaven, his pious and pithy exhortation of the evangelical
churches to a happy peace ; wherein the fundamentals of our faith
are so evidently laid open, that it is not hard to judge by that
unfailing rule whom we may and must admit to the communion
c Jo. Davenant, Ad Pacem Eeclesiae Adhortatio.

602 The Peacemaker.
of Christ's Church, and whom we ought to exclude from that
holy society.
Doubtless, there is the same consideration of a Christian and of
a church ; for what is a church but an assembly of many true
believing Christians ? and what is a Christian but an abridgment
of the church, or a church contracted into one bosom ? The
number makes no difference in the essence.
Now what is a Christian but a living stone, laid upon the
foundation of God's spiritual building ? And this foundation is
either personal or doctrinal. The personal is Christ, the Son of
the ever-living God; so the great and wise master-builder tells
us : Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which
is Jesus Christ, i Cor. iii. 1 1. The doctrinal is the whole truth
of God revealed in the Holy Scriptures, the foundation of the
prophets and apostles, Eph. ii. 20 ; every line of whose divine
writings is, in respect of the authority of the revealer, a several
stone in this precious foundation ; though, in respect of use, those
only truths thence selected, without whose express and explicit
knowledge no man can be saved, are justly styled fundamental.
The sum whereof is the rule of belief, the rule of hfe, and the
rule of devotion : the rule of belief d gathered up into the known
articles of our Creed, the rule of life comprehended in the Ten
Commandments, the rule of devotion in the prescription of prayer
and sacraments. What person soever then, after his due matri
culation into God's Church, professeth to be built upon Christ the
true corner stone, to receive and embrace the whole truth of God
delivered in the sacred monuments of, the prophets and apostles,
to beheve all the articles of the Christian faith, to yield himself
to the guidance of that royal law, to call upon the only true God
in and through Christ, to communicate in the same holy sacra
ments instituted by the Lord of life, cannot but be acknowledged
a true Christian, and worthy of our free and entire communion.
And if more do so to the making up of a whole assembly,
orderly congregated under lawful pastors, what can debar them
of the title and privilege of a true Christian Church ?
Sect. IV. — The injurious uncharitableness ofthe Romish Church
in excluding Christian Churches, and condemning
their professors.
It is therefore an high degree of injurious uncharitableness and
d Symboluin est omnium credendorum ad salutem spectantium compendiosa
collectio. Gers. Tract. I. de Artie. Fidei.

Sect. IV.] The Peacemaker. 603
presumption in whomsoever to shut those out from the Church of
Christ who can truly plead all these just claims for their undoubted
interest in that holy society.
Amongst whom, we can confidently say, all the water of Tiber
cannot wash the Church of Rome from the heinous guilt of this
double crime ; whose unjust and imperious censure hath cruelly
cashiered all the churches upon earth, save those of her own
correspondence, from the challenge and benefit of catholic com
munion. In which number first steps forth the Greek Church, and doth
vehemently at the bar of heaven implead her Latin corrival of
extreme insolence and injustice6 in excluding her from the line
of this sacred communication, being yet no whit less large, noble,
ancient, orthodox than herself.
And indeed the plaint will be found most just; for if we
examine the original and proceedings of this quarrel, we shall
find the ground of it ambition, the pretence heresy.
The heresy charged upon that Church is concerning the pro
cession of the Holy Ghost, which procession they hold to be
from the Father, but acknowledge not from the Son. The
subject is of an high nature. Every notion, that concerns the
infinite Deity, is worthy to be important. So as the sound of
the words justly seems heinous to a Christian ear ; but if the
opinion be taken whole, and with the favour of their limits and
explication f. much of the odiousness will be abated ; and it will
be found rather erroneous than heretical, and more full of
scandal than of danger. Did they deny the Holy Ghost to be
the third Person in the glorious Trinity, or that he is true God,
of the same substance with the Father and the Son, they were
worthy of our utmost defiance ; but now, while granting all these,
e Nilus, "Orat. de Causis Dissensio- Filium." Damas. 1. i. Fid. Orth. [ut
num Ecclesise, " impu tat omnes divisiones supra.] — "Sane sciendum est, quod licet
orbis Christiani Ecclesiae Bomanae ; quod in praesenti articulo a nobis Graeci verbo
prassumpserit absque Grsecis de rebus discordent, tamen sensu non differunt."
fidei definire, ita ut omnes contra sen- [In sensu nobiscum conveniunt etsi
tientes anathemati subjecerit. verbis differant. Dist. xi. Lov. 1546,
1 Damas. " Spiritum Sanctum esse per p. 26.] Mag. Sent A. i. c. n. — "An vero
Filium sed non a Filio.'' [obx' ws H avrov quia Spiritus est Filii quoque Spiritus,
a.\\' as Si' avrov. Joh. Dam. Orth. Fid. ideo Spiritus a Filio quoque procedat ;
Veron. 1531, p. 19.] Lib. de Orthod. statuant illi, qui plane percipiunt, quid
Fide.c.xi. — KvpiWbs Ixarpiap. Kaivaravr. sit in divinis procedere : ego, cum anti-
'OpoKoyia TliaTfws. Ilvevpa "Ayiov ix rov quis patribus, fateor, me quid sint istae
TlaTpbs Si' Tlov irpooepx6pevov, Har pi /ad processiones in divinis ignorare." Marc.
1"i$6p.ooioiov. — "Non ex Filio, sed Spi- Ant. de Dom. deSep. Eccles. 1. vii. c. 10.
ritum Filii esse dicimus, et Patris per [§. 122.]

604 The Peacemaker.
they stick upon the only terms of the immediate principle of his
divine procession, the quarrel is rather scholastical than Christian,
and hath in it more subtlety than use. Tea, that it may appear
this controversy hath in it more verbality than matter, they do-
willingly grant and profess, that the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of
the Son no less than of the Father, though not proceeding from
the Son ; a metaphysical nicety not worthy to mar the peace of
God's Church, or to make a defendant heretical ; so as those three
plenary councils, as cardinal Bellarmin styles them, viz., that of
Lateran, that of Lyons, that of Florence, by which the Greek
Church is upon this point condemned of heresy, and shut out
from the claim of Catholicism, have justly run themselves upon
the just censure of foul uncharitableness.
As for those other points of difference about purgatory and
primacy, heretofore agitated betwixt them, that eastern Church
is so far from just blame, that it clearly hath the advantage.
Shortly, in all the main points of Christian religion, if the
Greek Church profess that doctrine which their late learned and
religious patriarch hath in her name published to the world, she
may well merit the claim of a sisterhood to the most pure Church
under heaven. Neither was Grceca fides, in another sense of old,
more infamous than the faith of the Greek Church is now worthily
honoured through the Christian world. And for us in this island,
as in our first conversion to Christianity we held correspondence
with the Greek Church, and continued it so till about seven hun
dred years after Christ's nativity, to the great regret of the
Roman ; so still the entireness of their agreement with us in this
worthy confession of their faith, challengeth from us the dearest
of all Christian respects to them.
In the next place, the protestant or evangelical churches of our
European world do justly cry out of the high injustice of Rome,
in excluding them from the communion of the truly catholic
Church of Christ. What a presumptuous violence is this ! what
a proud uncharitableness ! How often and how sadly have we ap
pealed to the God of heaven to judge between us !
What is, what can there be required to the entire being of a
Christian Church, which is not to be found eminently conspicuous
in these of ours 1 Here is one Lord, that sways us by the sceptre
of his Law and Gospel ; one faith, which was once delivered to the
saints, without diminution, without adulteration ; one baptism, the
common laver of our regeneration ; one spiritual banquet of hea-

Sect. IV.] The Peacemaker. 605
venly manna, whereby our souls are fed to eternal life ; one rule
of our Christian devotion. Shortly, here is a sweet communion
of the members with their Head, Christ, and of the members with
themselves. Let them say then, what is wanting to us, even in their worst
prejudice, save that we are not theirs. And the fault of that is
their own. They have both gone from themselves and abandoned
us : had they continued still what they once were, they had been
ours, we had been theirs, both had been Christ's. If they have
departed from Christ and themselves, we can bewail them, we
dare not go along with them. Thus long have we differed, yet
could they never name any one article of all the anciently approved
Creeds which we have denied ; any one fundamental error which
we have maintained ; neither shall ever be able to do it. Before
God and angels and men, the wrong lies at their door, who have
laid more and other foundations than God ever intended for the
raising up of his Church.
Envy itself cannot accuse us of any positive error that can so
much as strike at the true foundation, much less raze it. We are
only charged with negatives, in that we cannot admit those novel
impositions which they would injuriously obtrude upon God's
Church as matters of faith ; in that we cannot allow every deter
mination of the now Roman Church to be oracular and funda
mental; a resolution which we dare not forsake, lest our God
should forsake us as he hath them.
So then, let them prove that their twelve Tridentine Articles,
which they would forces upon the Church of God, are part of the
truth delivered once to the saints, or that there may be now any
new faith, or that it is in the power of the Church of Rome to
determine that her decisions shall pass for matter of faith, and
we shall then cry her up as only Catholic, and confess ourselves
justly branded with the note of heretical pravity. In the mean
time, woe be to them by whom the offence of this division cometh !
We call heaven and earth to the witness of our innocence and
their injustice.
But while they are so busy in censuring and ejecting others,
we do well to call their eyes back to themselves, whom our divines
have sufficiently convinced of errors, though not directly, yet re-
ductively fundamental ; which might easily be displayed here, if
s Quis ferat istos, qui tantum sibi summit, ut, ubi libitum fuerit, pro germana
scriptura suos assuant pannos ? Erasm. Prcefat. m Hilarii Opera.

606 The Peacemaker.
that discourse were proper for the subject we have in hand. I
remember learned Tilenus, in our frequent and familiar confer
ences, was wont to instance in four grounds of our discession from
the Romanists : their tyranny, under which were comprised their
challenged primacy and impeccability : their idolatry : their he
retical opinions : their flagitious practices and doctrines tending
to the establishing thereof; as, the lawfulness of the murdering of
princes, the toleration of stews, the allowance of children's de
serting of parents on pretence of religion, the maintenance of their
equivocations, and the like : from all, from any of which it will be
an hard task for their skilfullest advocate to make good their
vindication. But we are not now upon a theme of accusation, rather desiring
to employ ourselves upon the furtherance of our own peace ; so
far only meddhng with the Roman party, as they are injurious to
our interest in the Catholic Church of Christ.
Sect. V. — The undue alienation ofthe Lutheran churches
from the other reformed.
But how happy were it if this uncharitableness were only con
fined to the seven hills, and were the peculiar stain of the Roman
Church ! It is too lamentable to see how it hath enlarged itself,
even to some of those sister churches, who, together with us, have
withdrawn themselves out of Babylon. Amongst whom, some of
the rigid followers of the way of Luther have not stuck to pray,
" From having any brotherhood with Calvinists, good Lord, deliver
ush." How sad a thing is it to see such deadly discord amongst
brethren ! Woe is me, what evil spirit is this that hath gone be
tween the professors of the same religion, and wrought so despe
rate an alienation of hearts in so small a difference of opinions 1
With what heat have those sacramentarian wars been followed
in several successions! first', between Luther and Carolostadius ;
then, betwixt Luther and the divines of Zurich ; after that, be
twixt Westphalus and Calvin ; yet again, betwixt Heshusius and
Clebitius ; then further, betwixt Brentius and Bullinger ; and now,
ever since, by the abettors of ubiquity, to this present day : when
as, if both sides would have calmly scanned and fairly interpreted
each others' judgment, it would have appeared that there was no
just ground for so mortal an hostility.
h Prolans. " A fraternitate Calviniana, ' Jo. Jeslerus Scaphusus, de Belli Eu-
libera nos, Domino." Fascicttl. 1. i q. 7. charistici Diuturnitate.

Sect. V.] The Peacemaker. 607
Sometimes, when passion and prejudice were laid aside, they
came so near to each other in their expressions, that any bystander
would have verily thought the quarrel had been at an end.
Besides that famous conference at Marpurg, anno 1,529, very
memorable was that convention of worthy divines at Wittenberg,
anno 1536 k: wherein, when Capito, Bucer, and Musculus, with
the most eminent divines of higher Germany „^n a meeting with
Luther, Melancthon, Jonas, Pomeranus, Cruciger, and the other
doctors and preachers of Wittenberg, had conferred their judg
ments in a loving and quiet way ; Luther, and the rest of his part
were so well satisfied with the professed explication of the other
side, that after some little withdrawing, he and his associates re
turned with this answer : " If ye believe and teach, that in the
holy supper, the true body and the true blood of our Lord is ex
hibited, given, and taken, and not mere bread and wine only ; and
that this receiving and exhibiting is truly, and not imaginarily
done ; we are all agreed, and we do acknowledge and receive you
as our dear brethreu in the Lord1." This, when Bucer and the
rest openly and cheerfully avowed, they all shook hands and em
braced each other, and departed.
Who would not now have hoped that the floodgates of this
strife had been let down and fully stopped, so as we should have
heard no more of this controversy to the world's end? And
why should there not be an eternal peace upon these terms m 1
That which Bucer and his associates averred above an hundred
years ago, we still say and maintain : that which was a truth then,
hath been so ever since, and shall be to all eternity. Well there
fore may we ask, with Tiberius's soldiers, Tt p.a\6p:eda ; "What do
we fight for ?"
But if the great makebate betwixt heaven and earth, the com
mon enemy of mankind, will not yet suffer us to be quiet, but will
be raising causeless broils in the Church of God, how well doth it
beseem those who have the better of the cause, after the example
k Hospinianus in Historia Sacra e Lo- recipimus ut charos fratres [nostros] in
dovico Rabo et Jo. Swiccio, ex Buceri Domino. Hospm. e Scriptis Bucer. Angl.
Scriptis Anglicanis. [Basil. 1577. p. 648.] ibid. Fortunatus Calvinista dicit corpus
1 Si creditis et docetis [Quod videlicet Christi in Sacramento verissime realis-
credatis et doceatis] in Sacra Coena, ve- simeque percipi. Valent. torn. iv. dis. 6.
rum corpus et verum sanguinem Domini q. 3.
exhiberi, dari, et sumi, et non panem et m Diu satis erat credere, sive sub pane
vinum tantum ; et quod exhibitio et per- consecrato, sive quocunque modo, adesse
ceptio haec vere fiat, et non imaginarie ; verum Christi corpus. Erasm. 1 Cor. vii,
inter nos convenit, vosque agnoscimus et

608 The Peacemaker.
of good Abraham, to sue for that peace which should be sued for
to them !
Wherein I do much congratulate the exemplary practice of the
eminent divines of our own and the neighbouring churches, actu
ated by the unweariable endeavours of our worthy and never-
enough-commended Duraeus11, who hath given noble testimonies
of their holy forwardness and zealous inclinations toward a blessed
union of the evangelical churches, and have [hath] clearly shewed
the easy reconcilableness of these differences, if some harsh men
were not too much wedded to their own wills and opinions.
And certainly nothing can be more evident than that we all
agree in fundamental truths, and that those things wherein we
differ are mere points of scholastical disquisition; such as may
perhaps be fit for divines to argue in their academical disputations,
not worthy to trouble the pubhc peace, or to perplex the heads,
much less the hearts of Christian people.
For instance, in this business of the eucharist0, which hath been
made the fuel of the greatest fire, so much as toucheth the foun
dation is, That the body and blood of Christ are so truly present
in the administration of the sacrament, as that they are truly re
ceived by the worthy communicant : That the bread and wine are
the elements ordained by Christ in the worthy receiving whereof
the prepared communicant partaketh of the body and blood of
Christ, to the nourishing of his soul unto eternal life : That the
bread and wine are present, and are received in a bodily, local,
natural, sensible manner ; but that the body and blood of Christ are
present, and partaken of in a divine and spiritual manner. And
in all these both parts do fully accord. All this being admitted,
that contention which is raised concerning the oral perception and
manducation of the body of Christ can be no other than either a
strife of words or a nice school-point.
In the matter of ubiquity, which makes so ill a sound in the
world, as if it meant to destroy the truth of the humanity of
Christ, let but the distinction of learned ZanchiusP be admitted,
not new devised by him, but cited out of former authorities ; and
n M. Jo. Duraaus. Vide Sententias 4. c. 16. "fatetur gloriam Dei, et omnempo-
de Pace Evangelica. testatem, tribui humance natures Christi;
o Vide D. Davenant, ubi supra, Ad- non in, ipsa, sed in supposito, i. e. per
hortat. ad Pacem, et Sentent. 4 Theol. gratiam unionis, [datam esse gloriam
¦0 Zanch. de Dissidio Ccenae. — Field, Dei Patris humanitati Christi, &c] Sic
Of the Church. Append. — Pic. Miran. — et Lutherani," &c.
Cajetan. — Bellarm. de Incarnat. 1. iii.

Sect. VI.] The Peacemaker. 609
that quarrel is reconciled. For it is one thing that we affirm con
cerning the humanity of Christ, of the natural being of it ; an
other, what we affirm of the personal being. To say that the
human nature of Christ is naturally omnipresent, were to con
found the natures and to destroy the person : but to say that the
human nature of Christ is personally omnipresent, that is, that
the Godhead and manhood being so united as that they make up
one indivisible person, the person of Christ being omnipresent, the
human nature may be in that relation said to be so in that it is
personally united to that Deity which is omnipresent 1: if the
predication seem to any man somewhat hard, yet it is worthy to
be welcome, if it may bring peace.
As for those differences concerning predestination which Ar
minius and his followers have borrowed from the Lutheran
divines, the divines of both parts, in that amicable conference at
Leipzig1", professed their agreement in all the main and important
points; leaving those parcels unaccorded wliich are meet to be
sent and confined to the schools.
Shortly then, however matters may be aggravated by ill-willers
to peace, would our brethren of the Confession of Augsburg
entertain but the like thoughts of Christian charity towards us
which we do willingly harbour towards them, these woful jars,
wherewith the Church of Christ is lamentably torn asunder,
would soon see an happy end, and shut up in a blessed reconcile
ment ; which the God of peace, Heb. xiii. 20, 1 Thess. v. 23,
vouchsafe to grant, for the sake of him who is the Prince of
Peace, Isa. ix. 6. Amen.
Sect. VI. — The differences betwixt the other reformed churches
and our own.
But not to dwell upon the quarrels abroad, lest I should be
checked with that ill husband, who when his own house was on
fire runs to quench his neighbour's ; I must confess, with sorrow
enough, that our intestine broils, both of church and state, are
such as no tears can be sufficient to bewail ; and that we are so
much more miserable than all the nations round about us, by how
much we have been hitherto more happy than they.
The civil distempers are fit for another cure ; to the success of
¦: Fatemur totum Christum prsesentem Horm., D. Polic. Liserum., D. Henr.
quatenus in verbo hypostatice subsistit Hofnerum ; et D. J. Bergium, D. J.
caro, quae prsRsentia est universalis. Crocium, D. Theoph. Mubargerum :
Theod. Bez. advers. J. Andream. anno 1631.
r Colloq. Lipsiacum inter D. Mat.
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. It r

610 The Peacemaker.
any remedy whereof, my prayers shall contribute their utmost :
and would to God my blood could aught avail! 0 my God,
when wilt thou put an end to these unexpressible miseries ? 0,
when wilt thou bind up the wounds of this bleeding and gasping
nation 1 Lord, save us, we perish. Woe is me ! if the sword go
thus on, where is the Church? or, what do we talk of physic,
after death? But, if it might please the justice of the Almighty
to take up with this deluge of blood that is already shed, and in
his mercy to spare yet the remainder of his people, there might
yet be a place for those spiritual remedies of Church-discord
which we are now about to prescribe.
The divisions of the Church are, either general, betwixt our
Church and the other Reformed; or special, those within the
bosom of our own Church : both which require several consi
derations. For the former : blessed be God, there is no difference in any
essentials matter betwixt the Church of England and her sisters
of the Reformation. We accord in every point of Christian
doctrine without the least variation : their public confessions and
ours are sufficient convictions to the world of our full and abso
lute agreement. The only difference is in the form of out
ward administration : wherein also we are so far agreed, as that
we all profess this form not to be essential to the being of a
church, though much importing the well or better being of it,
according to our several apprehensions thereof; and that we do
all retain a reverent and loving opinion of each other in our own
several ways ; not seeing any reason why so poor a diversity
should work any alienation of affection in us one towards another:
but, withal, nothing hinders, but that we may come yet closer to
one another, if both may resolve to meet in that primitive
government, whereby it is meet we should both be regulated,
universally agreed upon by all antiquity ; wherein all things were
ordered and transacted by the consent of the presbytery, mode
rated by one constant president thereof. The primary and
perpetual practice whereof no man can doubt of, that hath but
8 Laus Deo, nullum inter nos de reli- Minist. Evang. Hanc formam commen-
gionis substantia certamen. Theol. darunt Patres, obseryavit antiquissima
Gallus de Discipl. Ecclesice, c. i. an. Ecclesia ; imo, quod est totius rei caput,
1622. instituisse videtur ipse Christus per
' Instituti divini est, ut in omni coetu Apostolos. Theolog. Gallus, de Discipl.
presbyterorum unus sit, qui ordine pra3- Ecclesia', an. 1622, cap. de Episcop.
eat et prassit reliquis. Ben. de Grad.

Sect. VII.] The Peacemaker. 611
seen the writings of Clemens and Ignatius, and hath gone along
with the history of those primitive times. It shall be needless,
though it were most easy, to bring together a cloud of witnesses,
both ancient and modern, to so clear a truth ; we may well rest
in the judgment of Mr. John Cameron, the learnedest divine, be
it spoke without envy, that the Church of Scotland hath afforded
in this last ageu, Nullus est dubitandi locus, Sec. " There is no
doubt at all," saith he, " but that Timothy was chosen by the
college of the presbyters to be the president of them; and that, not
without some authority over the rest ; but yet, such as have the
due bounds and limits. And that this was a leading case, and
common to other churches, was never denied by any author."
Words may not break square where the things are agreed. If
the name of a bishop displease, let them call this man a modera
tor, a president, a superintendent, an overseer ; only, for the
fixedness or change of this person, let the ancient and universal
practice of God's Church be thought worthy to oversway. And
if, in this one point, wherein the distance is so narrow, we could
condescend to each other, all other circumstances and append
ances of varying practices or opinions might without any diffi
culty be accorded. But if there must be a difference of judg
ment in these matters of outward policy, why should not our
hearts be still onex? why should such a diversity be of power to
endanger the dissolving of the bond of brotherhood ? May we
have the grace but to follow the truth in love, we shall in these
several tracks overtake her happily in the end, and find her
embracing of peace and crowning us with blessedness.
Sect. VII. — The differences within our own churches at home.
As union is necessary to the making up of peace, so also, in
some cases, is dissipation. While we are so charitable as not to
exclude any church which holdeth the foundation from the benefit
n J. Camer. Myrothec. in i Tim. iv. rat inApoc. ii — Polycarpus Smyrnensis
14. — Ita Calvin. Habebant singula; episcopus, ab ipso Joanne ordinatus
civitates presbyterorum collegium, qui supra 70 annos prsefuit illi ecclesise.
pastores erant ac doctores, &c. Illi ex Theol. Gal. ubi supra. — Hanc guberna-
suo numero in singulis oivitatibus unum tionem ab apostolorum aetate consti-
eligebant, cui specialiter dabant titulum tutam esse ostendit perpetua episcopo-
Episcopi, ne ex aequalitate, ut fieri solet, rum successio, quorum seriem deduxit
dissidia nascerentur. Calv. Instit. 1. iv. Euseb. in 4. summis totius orbis ecclesiis.
c. 4. § 2. — Non populum aggreditur Id. ib.
Joannes, sed [clerum nee quemlibet de * Adhserebo vobis etsi nolitis ; adhse-
clero nominatim compellat sed] princi- rebo, etsi nolim ipse. Bern, ad Prm-
pem cleri, utique episcopum. Mario- monstr, Ep. 252. [Ed. Paris. 253.]
B r 2

612 The Peacemaker.
of Christian communion, we are yet far from giving way to every
combination^ of Christians, to run aside, and to raise up a new
church of their own ; and to challenge all the privileges incident
to a lawful church of Christ, as equally due to their segregation;
this were to build up Babel instead of Jerusalem. Faciunt
favos et vesp>asz, as that Father said well : Even wasps meet
together, in some holes of the earth, or hollow trees ; and make
combs, as well as the profitable bees : but no man ever bestowed
upon them the cost of an hive.
If men be allowed a latitude of opinions in some unnecessary
verities, it may not be endured, that in matter of religion every
man should think what he lists, and utter what he thinks, and
defend what he utters, and publish what he defends, and gather
disciples to what he publishetha. This liberty, or licentiousness
rather, would be the bane of any church.
There cannot be a more pregnant instance than that of New
England, yet fresh, not in our memory, but in our eye ; where
the late Jezebel b, which called herself a prophetess, had well-
near corrupted and overthrown that Thyatira, by ber private, but
pernicious conceits ; broached first amongst her gossips ; then
diffused to wiser heads ; and at last, under an opinion of sanctity,
entertained and abetted by some of the elders and teachers of
that church which promised to itself and professed more strict
ness of discipline than that which it left. And what success the
dangerous fancies of one Eaton, the father of Antinomianism in
this diocese, hath had, I would rather bewail than express. The
truth is, that if way may be given to this wild freedom, it cannot
be but monsters of opinion must needs pester the world ; a real
emblem whereof it pleased God to shew in that remote colony
of our retired brethren0.
It was a conceit of old, reported, I perceive, by many histo
rians'1, that the Huns, a people wherewith, amongst the rest, the
civiler parts of the world were much infected, were a breed of
men begotten by certain familiar e devils that haunted those
y Ecclesia; nomen consensus concor- of the Anabaptists and Antinomians of
diseque [nomen] est. Chrys. in Epist. New England.
ad Galat. u. i. c tjd; supra : Discovery of Ana-
1 Faciunt favos et veapse, faciunt baptists, &c.
ecclesias et Marcionitce. Tertull. adrcrs. d [ForcatulusSteph. Ed. Genev. 1595.
Marcion. 1. iv. c. 5. p. 722.] For. de Gall. Imperio ex Jor-
a Libertas Prophetandi, challenged nande ; — Paulus Aquileg. Hist. 1. xii.
by Simon Episcopius, &c. c ^ Faunis Phycariis, &c.
b Mrs. Hutchison. See the Discovery

Sect. VIII.] The Peacemaker. 613
deserts, of certain witches which they called alyrumnas : the
truth whereof, as they say, was evidenced in the ghastly and
ugly visages of those savage persons. Surely such a generation
we must expect of misshapen opinions, begot betwixt evil spirits
and mad phantasies, if every fanatical brain may be suffered to
vent and propagate its own whimsies and prodigious imaginations.
And I would to God our sad experience did not already afford us
too lamentable examples in this kind. I profess some paradoxes,
that have looked forth into the public hght, have been so horrible,
that I dare not so much as to repeat them ; and what shafts one
archer hath shot is known and censured, though I fear they
will yet stick fast in many souls.
The issue is, that as we must labour to unite all those which
should be conjoined, so we must take care, if ever we would
enjoy peace, to dissipate those which will not, or should not, or
cannot be united f.
Those therefore who do pertinaciously and unreclaimably
maintain doctrines destructive to the foundation of Christian
religion, must necessarily be avoided and suppressed. It is the
charge of the Disciple of Love, If any man bring not, i.e. oppose,
this doctrine, receive him not into your house, neither bid him
God speed, 2 John 10; and more plainly of the doctor of the
Gentiles, A man that is an heretic, after the first and second
admonition, reject, Tit. iii. 10. Those that fly out from a true
established church, and run ways of their own, raising and
fomenting sects and schisms amongst God's people, let them
receive their doom, not from me, but from the blessed apostle :
Now I beseech you, brethren, mark them which cause divisions
and offences contrary to the doctrine which ye have learned; and
avoid them. For they that are such serve not our Lord Jesus
Christ, but their own belly ; and by good words and fair speeches
deceive the hearts ofthe simple, Rom. xvi. 17, 18.
Sect. VIII. — Ofthe ways of peace which concern private per
sons : and, first, to labour against the inward grounds of con
tention : whereof the first is pride; the second, self-love.
Now then, for the better prevention or remedy of these mis
chiefs, which attend spiritual discord, let us address ourselves to
f Hujusmodi hominum pravitati, non per contra Collatorem. [Ed. Duac. 1577.
tarn disputationum studio, quam authori- p. 167.]
tatum privilegio est resistendum. Pros-

614 The Peacemaker.
the chalking out of those ways of peace which the God of peace
hath called us to walk in, and which shall undoubtedly lead us
to our desired end.
And those ways are either private or public ; private, such as
every Christian must frame himself to tread in ; public, such as
are fit for every church and state.
First, then, for each private person, the most ready way to
peace is, to labour within himself against the inward causes and
grounds of contention, which are commonly pride, self-love, envy,
covetousness. Only by pride cometh contention, saith the wisest of men,
Prov. xiii. 10: whose observation is seconded by all experience;
for what is it that kindles this fire everywhere but height of in
solence and overweening ?
"I am better than thou," raises the furious and bloody con
testations for precedency; "I am holier than thou," causes a
contemptuous separation from company better, perhaps, than our
selves; "I am wiser than thou," is guilty of all the irregular
opinions that the world is disquieted withal. These three quarrels
of emulation, for worth, holiness, wisdom, are they that put the
whole earth into combustions.
In that tribe which should be sacred, who knows not what
broils have been raised for but a priority of place ? what scuffling
and shouldering and bloodsheds have been, in the records of his
tory, betwixt the trains of Canterbury and York, whether's cross
should take the wall ! and what high terms have been between
the sees of Romeh and Constantinople, to the great trouble of
emperors and councils, he must needs be a stranger to the church
story that knoweth not. Yea, what is it that hath made such
havock in the Church of Christ for these many hundred years but
the man of sin, his advancing himself above all that is called God?
so as he, that was first an humble subject, ready to lick the dust
of the feet of princes, now would be lording it over the great
monarchs of the earth', who must think it no small honour to be
admitted to hold his towel, to serve in his dish, to bear his canopy,
to hold his stirrup, to lead his horse, to kiss his foot. He that
was once singulis minor, a servant of servants, is now major uni-
b Dum gloriam usurpant, turbant 150 amantissimi Dei Episcopi novae
pacem. Bernard. Ep.126. Roma; throno sequalia privilegia tri-
11 Antiqua; Eomae throno quod urbs buere, &c. Concil. Chalced. Actio xv.
ilia imperaret, jure Patrey privilegia Can. 27.
tribuere ; et, ea consideration moti, > Vide Librum Sacr. Cer.

Sect. VIII.] The Peacemaker. 615
versis, so much greater than a general council, that to make
but the comparison is hereticalk. Lastly, he that was once
dragged to every bar now makes but one tribunal with God.
How hast thou climbed up into heaven, 0 Lucifer! how hast
thou said in thy heart, / will exalt my throne above the stars
of God : I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation !
Isaiah xiv. 13.
In the second place, what divisions are wont to be made by an
over-conceit of sanctity needs no other instance than that of the
proud Pharisees, who thereupon kept their distance from the sons
of the earth, as their scorn styled them ; and could say, as they
had learned of their arrogant predecessors1, Stand by thyself:
come not near to me ; for I am holier than thou, Isa. lxv. 5.
And under the times of the Gospel, what need we any other
witness than the cells and cloisters of retired votaries, whose very
secession proclaims their contempt of sinful seculars, and doth as
good as say, This people, which knoweth not the law, is accursed?
And what other can be the language of those picked combinations
of saints out of churches, churches out of parishes, members out of
congregations, and seekers out of select members, which we hear
of in our woful subdivisions ?
But that which is guilty of the most general debate is the over
valuation of wisdom, out of the opinion whereof every man is ready
to idolize his own imagination, and to fall foul on any whosoever
will not fall down and worship it. Hence are those infinite para
doxes, not in philosophy only, but, which can never be enough
lamented, in matter of religion, daily hatched and stiffly main
tained, to the unspeakable disturbance of our Christian peace.
Whosoever therefore desires to have his bosom a meet harbour
for peace must be sure to quit it of this blustering inmate of
pride, which, wherever it lurks, will be raising storms and tem
pests of contention.
The pew-fellow to pride is self-love, and no less enemy to
peace. This makes a man to sacrifice to himself with Sejanus, and to
admire and overprize aught of his own, and weds him to his own
v Hodie tenere Concil. Generale esse Concil. ita ut nullum in terris supra se
supra Papam ; dicet hsereticum. Paul, judicium agnoscat. Bellarm. De Rom.
Grysald. Aquil. de Confes. — Nee a Papa Pont. 1. ii. c. 26. Azor. Instit. mor. p. i.
ad Deum potest appellari, cum sit idem c. 14. Yalent. Anal. 1 viii. c. 7.
Tribunal. Vival. Caf. Bulla 2 nu. 5. ' Miaapov yaprjyovvTatrb nvbs a\fiaa6ai.
— Papa Romse est absolute supra Gener. Epiph. de Samarit. [c. 3.]

616 The Peacemaker.
particular interest, with the neglect, or, if need be, the affront of
all others.
This moves every man to make that challenge which the blessed
apostle most justly professed, And I think also that I have the
Spirit of God, i Cor. vii. 40. And if a Micaiah will be pretending
a different light, this stirs up a Zedekiah to buffet him, and to ask.
Which way went the Spirit of the Lord from me to speak unto
thee ? 1 Kings xxii. 24.
This is it that turns every man's goose into a swan, and causes
the hermit to set more value upon his cat than Gregory upon the
world m.
This is it that requires fair glosses to be set upon our own
actions", and renders us impatient of all contradiction; and where
it finds the least opposition, like a violent torrent which is dammed
up with slight turfs, it bears down all before it, and impetuously
gusheth forth, and fills the channels, and overspreads the plains,
so as where this prevails, there can be no room for peace.
Sect. IX. — The third inward ground of contention, envy and
malice ; the fourth and last, covetousness.
If yet there can be a more direct and professed enemy of peace,
it is that of envy and malice.
These disaffections to the persons have ever raised an hostility
to the best causes. "My puisne, my rival, my enemy is advanced:
I lie still neglected: am I so tame as to suffer it?" "My unequal
neighbour goes away with the reputation : no man looks at my
abler parts and better merits : while he is all, shall I abide to be
nobody ? " " Shall Jacob go away with the birthright and bless
ing?" saith Esau, Gen. xxvii. 41: " Shall Eldad and Medad
prophesy ? " saith Joshua, Num. xi. 28 : " Shall Moses and Aaron
overtop us ? " saith Korah and his company, Num. xvi. 3 : " Shall
David be sung up for victories?" saith Saul, 1 Sam. xviii. 8:
" Shall Nehemiah build the walls of Jerusalem ? " saith Sanballat,
Neh. ii. 19.
Hereupon straight follow secret underminings, open oppositions,
deadly contestations. Envy in the bosom is like a subterraneous
fire shut up in the bowels of the earth, which, after some astonish
ing concussation, breaks furiously out with noise and horror; and
'" Bromiard. Summa Pnedic. verb, renter glossanda. Jo. Major. I>is)>. un
Diriliie. [Art. x. 34.] Concil. sit sujira Papain.
n Jura Rom. Pontili'/um sunt reve-

Sect. IX.] The Peacemaker. 617
if a city, a mountain be in the way, blows it up, or swallows it
down into that dreadful gulf which it maketh. And who is able
to stand before envy ? saith wise Solomon, Prov. xxvii. 4.
No mortal tongue or pen is able to express the woful stirs that
have hence been raised in the Christian Church, even from the
first plantation of it. No sooner is the woman delivered of her
male child than this red dragon stands before her to devour it,
Rev. xii. 4.
Yea, even in those saddest times, ere the Church could have
space to breathe herself from her public miseries, under that hot
persecution begun by Decius and continued by Gallus and Volu-
sianus and Hostilianus Perpenna °, when as the Christians could
not meet in their wonted caves and vaults for their holy devotions,
yet even then an emulous Novatus could be scuffling with Cornelius,
the bishop of Rome, for his chair, and that so fiercely, as that he
forced the communicants, upon the receipt of the sacrament, to
swear that they would not return from him to that lawful com
petitor. What should I speak of the slanders and machinations raised
and pursued against holy Athanasius, not by single persons only,
but by synods, by a council that would pretend toP oecumenical ;
enow to stuff a volume ? From whence did these and all the
other tumults, schisms, and heresies of Novatianus, Ursinusi,
Arius r, Sabatius5, Aerius*, and the rest of those spiritual incen
diaries, take their rise, but from the evil eye which they cast
upon the promotions of their corrivals, and the failing of their
own ? The odious aspersion whereof Binius, from the false
intelligence of some of our own, calumniously throws upon our
Wickliffe, whom he slanders, for his missing the bishopric of
Worcester, to have fallen upon that successful contradiction.
Not to meddle with the desperate schisms of the Romau
antipopes, some whereof have lasted little less than an age, in an
0 Cornel. Epist. ad Lupicinum, Epi- s Sabbatius ob negatum Episcopatum
scopum Viennensem. separat se. Socr. 1 vii. c. 5.
r Pseudo-Synodus Sardicensis Epist. ' August, de Hceresibus : Aeriani ab
Synodali ad Donatum, Episcopum Car- Aerio Presbytero aegre ferente quod non
thag. [Bin. t. i. p. 44S.] — Mediolanense ordinaretur Episcopus. [Doluisse fertur
Cone. Univers. ep. 300. [Ibid. p. 471.] quod Episcopus non potuit ordinari.] —
et amplius Epis. Cornel. Epist. ad Fa- Theobutas (Thebuthis, &c6l3vdis,) qui-
bium 163. dam, qui repulsus non meruit Episco-
1 Ursinus invidit Damaso. Socr. 1. iv. patum, cepit turbare omnia. Euseb.

c. 29. r Alexandro Epis. invidit Arius.
Theodor. 1. i. c. 2.

1. iv. u. 22,

618 The Peacemaker.
utter ambiguity of the right succession, and have been drenched
with streams of blood, and all out of an envious competition of
usurped honour ; but to look rather home to ourselves ; how
happy were it if our present quarrels were as far from envy as
they are from charity, and that malice had not a finger in these
spiritual contentions u !
Even the best cause may be ill-managed, and the best manage
ment may be ill-grounded : Some preach Christ even of envy
and strife, saith the Chosen Vessel, Phil. i. 15. What act can
be better than to preach Christ I what motive can be worse than
strife and envy ? so as the best and worst actions may meet upon
the same ground. As ever we desire to avoid the worst of evils,
or to enjoy the comfort of our best actions, let it be our care to
rid our souls of this hellish fury of envy and maliciousness.
That which is the root of all evil, i. e. covetousness, may well
challenge a share in the evil of dissension.
Some, saith St. Paul, having coveted after money, have erred
from the faith, 1 Tim. vi. 10 ; and have not only miscarried in
their own persons, but have turned hucksters of the word of God,
to the corrupting thereof, to their own advantage x ; yea, and of
men's souls also ; Through covetousness do they, with feigned
words, make merchandise of you, saith St. Peter, 2 Pet. ii. 3.
Thus did the Pharisees of old, who, under colour of long prayers,
devoured widows' houses, Luke xvi. 14 ; being not more branded
with hypocrisy than covetousness ; with whom gain was godliness,
1 Tim. vi. 5.
And from this evil disposition of the heart a world of quarrels
is raised in the Church of God. He that well knew the pedigree
of these mischiefs hath told us, that the doting about questions
and strifes of words, whereof cometh envy, strife, railings, evil
surmisings, perverse disputings of men qf corrupt minds, and
destitute ofthe truth (1 Tim. vi. 4, 5), arises from this dangerous
misprision of gain. Had not the masters of the Pythoness been
stripped of the gain they made of that spirit of divination, by the
powerful command of the apostle, the devil had still possessed the
mind, and Paul and Silas had escaped their scourging and stock
ing and imprisonment, Acts xvi. 1 6, &c. Had not Demetrius the
silversmith, and the rest of the craftsmen, lost the rich trade of
Diana's shrines, by St. Paul's preaching, Ephesus and he had
u In denario litis non est obolusamoris. * KamjAeuoi'Tfs rbv \6yov. 2 Cor.
Gerson. [de pracept, Decal.] ii. 17.

Sect. X.] The Peacemaker. 619
been quiet, Acts xix. 24, &c. : it is their penny that makes the
uproar. So then, he that is greedy of gain troubleth not his
own house only (Prov. xv. 27), but the house of God also.
In short, therefore, he that hath freed his heart of pride, self-
love, envy, covetousness, and he only, is in a meet posture for the
entertainment of peace.
Sect. X. — The second private way of peace, the composing
ourselves to a fit disposition for peace ; and therein,
first, to a meek and humble temper.
Our second work must be, to compose ourselves to a temper fit
for the harbour of so blessed a guest.
Which shall be done, if, first, we have our hearts framed by the
power of the Holy Spirit of God to a meek and humble disposition,
not thinking ourselves wiser than all our ancestors, or the whole
Church of God besides ourselves.
It was a modest resolution of Elihu; I said, Days should speak,
and multitude of years should teach wisdom J, Job xxxii. 7.
And much like unto it was the question of a grave and learned
bishop z, some five hundred years ago ; Nunquid patribus, Src.
"Are we more learned and wiser than the fathers ? Do we proudly
presume to define that which their deep prudence thought fit to
pass over ? "
Not that the Spirit of God is confined to times or persons, who
is most free to breathe where he listeth, or that a dwarf sitting
upon the shoulders of a giant cannot see farther than he ; doubt
less he may; and perhaps some truths may have risen late, and
be long in dressing, ere they come abroad into the world ; and
when they do come forth, may show themselves unto babes, while
they are hid from the wise and prudent, Matt. xi. 25.
But heed must be taken that we do not rashly determine of
obscure and doubtful verities, upon pretence of our private light ;
and that, not without sure grounds, we run alone, and leave all
orthodox antiquity lagging behind us. How easily may we err,
where we see no track before us !
Nothing is more evident than that there have been further
discoveries made of the visible and material heavens in these
latter ages than ever were known to our predecessors ; who
y Ego certe ab antiquitate non recedo, 1150. — Nee enim sapientiores sumus
nisi coactus. Zanch. in Coloss. ii. quam Patres nostri. Bern, ad Hugon. de
7 Potho Prumiensium Episcopus. an. Sancto Vict. Ep. 77. [Prafat,]

620 The Peacemaker.
could never have believed that there were such lunets about
some of the planets as our late perspectives have descried ; but
in the spiritual heaven, in vain shall we expect any further in
sight than the already revealed will of the Father hath vouch
safed to open to us. No new way thither, no new mysteries
there, can be hoped for. That new gospel a, which some blas
phemous friars would have foisted upon the Church in her
thickest darkness, is justly exploded with abomination and scorn;
this Gospel, which we have, is everlasting b. It may be, some
collateral truths may break forth, upon manifest events : for
prophecies, before they be fulfilled, are riddles ; when they are
fulfilled, turn histories ; but new doctrinal truths, important and
saving, are vainly expected and fondly pretended.
It is not more needful than weighty counsel which the apostle
gives to his Romans, and in them to us, that we should not
super-sapere c ; yea, perhaps it is more than a counsel, a charge
of his : For I say, through the grace given unto me, to every
man that is among you; not to think of himself more highly
than he ought to think: but to think soberly, according as God
hath dealt to every man the measure of faith ; as well knowing
what woful effects would necessarily follow upon this height of
spirit. For hereupon ensues a scorn, to be either controlled or
directed ; a disdain of common and received opinions d ; a resolu
tion to walk nearer and fairer ways of our own e ; a defiance to
all contradiction ; an affectation of higher streams of sanctity ; a
challenge of new and supercelestial illuminations ; diseases, which
I would to God our times were clear of; at least, not more in
fested with than those of our forefathers ; although, what age
ever was there wherein some spirits would not be soaring too
high ? even from the wild and abstruse mysteries f of the Valen-
tinians, Basilidians, Carpocratians, and afterwards the Manichees,
to this present day.
The learned Chancellor of Paris? tells us of a woman, one
Maria de Valentianas, that had, lately before his relation,
written a book with incredible subtlety, concerning the preroga
tive and eminence of divine love ; to which, whatever soul hath
attained, is, according to her, let loose from all the law of God's
aVid. Chaucer's Romaunt of the Rose, c Nihil juvat obvium. Sen. Ep. 122.
b Evangelium Eeternum. r Iren. 1. i.
c Rom. xii. 3. Mij vweptppovelv. 6 Jo. Gers. de Distinctione Verarum
d Res sordida est trita ac vulgari via Yisionum a Ealsis. [Sign. V.]
vivere, &c. Sen. Ep. 122.

Sect. XL] The Peacemaker. 621
commandments. Such speculations as these, and others of so
high a nature as I fear to mention, are no novelties to these days
of light and liberty ; arising merely from the want of a meek
and modest humility of soul, resting in plain, simple, received
truths. Shortly, peace can never dwell but under the roof of a meek
and humble heart.
Sect. XI. — The second disposition for peace, is obedience
to our spiritual guides.
In the second place, we shall be fitly composed for the enter
tainment of peace, if we have learnt to stoop to a submissive
obedience unto our spiritual guides.
It is the full and absolute charge of the blessed apostle, worthy
to be imprinted in our heart, Obey them that have the rule over
you, and submit yourselves ; for they watch for your souls, as
they that must give account, Heb. xiii. 17.
Not to press the vehement exhortations of the renowned martyr
Ignatius, who, in every of his epistles, so strongly enforces this
duty, as if all the life of religion lay upon it ; I cannot omit that
famous observation of the holy martyr St. Cyprian h : ''Neither,11
saith he, " do heresies or schisms arise from any other ground
than this," quod sacerdoti Dei non obtemperatur, " that obedience
is not yielded to the priest of God."
I wish these times had not too much reason to underwrite a
Probatum est to this truth ; wherein it is lamentable to see how
we are fallen into another extreme from our forefathers. They
had learned, and practised accordingly, to take their faith upon
trust from their teachers, and to pin their souls upon their pastors1
sleeves ; to put themselves blindfolded into the hands of their
leaders, to carry them whither they knew best; and but to
question any point which their ghostly fathers delivered to them
as the doctrine of the Church was piacular : we, on the contrary,
are ready to guide and judge our teachers, to slight and control
their directions, to contemn and trample upon their persons.
Away with this proud usurpation ! ' What distinction is there
betwixt clergy and people ? Te take too much upon you, Moses
and Aaron, seeing all the congregation are holy, every one of
them, Num. xvi. 3. Woe is me ! what an ill use do we make of
h Cyp. Cornelio de Fortunato et Felicissimo. [ed. Baluz. Ep. 55. Fell. 59.]
i "The Compassionate Samaritan."

622 The Peacemaker.
that greater light which hath shined forth unto us, if it have made
us more opinionative, more apt to err, more obstinate in error !
The Romanists are all for blind obedience ; the Romanists there
fore go away with peace without truth ; ours, under pretence of
striving for some truths, abandon peace !
How much happier were it for the Church of God, and for us,
if we had learned to attribute so much to our learned and godly
pastors, as to rest in their studied interpretations of God's will
revealed in the holy scriptures, so far, as not easily, and without
sure and apparent grounds, to depart from their grave judgments !
It was the great praise of those noble Bereans, that, upon the
preaching of Paul and Silas, they searched the scriptures daily,
whether those things were so, as they had delivered them, Acts
xvii. ii. They examined the quotations of the apostles; they
did not take upon them to judge of the sense of their doctrine,
whereto they so submitted as that they received the word with
all readiness of mind.
Not that I would have Christians to captivate their under
standing to any man's private opinion, and swear into the words
of any master in Israel : that were a servility meet for the adorers
of that Roman vice-god, who must believe that all the truth of God
is locked up in the cabinet of his own breast ; and that all the
('ecisions of that oracular chair are inerrable1, though delivered
without study or care. Our holy profession allows us another
manner of freedom. Wherefore hath God given us our inward
senses, and the powers of reason, if we may not make use of them
in the main chance of our souls ? Doubtless we may improve our
faculties, but as scholars, not as masters, to know, not to cavil. If
thy teacher walk not in his own by-ways, but leads thee along in the
beaten path of the Church of God, wherein thou art, evidencing
his directions by the word of truth, follow him without fear; it is
safe for thee thus to err m. Is it for thee now, upon the suggestion
of some ignorant stranger, to stand still at the next turning, and
to tell thy guide he goes the wrong way ; and, forsaking him, to
coast the country over hedges and ditches for a nearer cut, till
thou have lost, with the way, thyself?
There are some men that are too much addicted to the judg
ment of their superiors. Gerson" tells us, that the cardinal of
1 Greg, de Valent.
m Non recuso confusionem, quam mihi obedientiae zelus invexit. Bern. Ep. 280.
ad Eugen. n Jo. Gerson. Collat. pro Licentiandis.

Sect. XII.] The Peacemaker. 623
Amiens had wont to say of his brother Ebrudunensis, in a familiar
sarcasm, at jesting as his too much dependence upon the canon
law, that if he lay bemired in some dirty slough, he would not
come forth, except there were a canon showed him for his rising
up; and I fear these days afford too many, who, having once
doted upon some admired teacher, how orthodox soever, cry up
all his dictates for gospel.
I cannot say whether of these extremes be more dangerous ; I
am sure both tend to confusion.
For the avoiding whereof, how happy were it if our hearers
would not think themselves too wise, and would content themselves
to be rather disciples than judges ; and would be pleased to en
tertain reverent thoughts of those that are set over them,
not more for the gravity and wisdom of their persons than for
the authority of their places. Even Timothy's youth may not be
contemned ; and upon this ground it was, that amongst the Jews,
though a man were never so learned, yet if his beard were not
grown to some fulness, he was not allowed to minister in the
synagogue0. And hereupon it was that holier antiquity, even
from the days of great and gracious Constantine, thought it very
conducible to the good success of the gospel, to put respects of
honour upon the sacred messengers of God : and even our Canutus
could enact, Pari cum Thano jure fruatur presbyter?. As, on
the contrary, it is too true an observation of Damasusq, where the
name of church governors is grown contemptible, the whole state
of the Church must needs be perturbed.
In sum, therefore, if ever we desire to recover and maintain
ecclesiastical peace, God's messengers must be greater in our eyes,
and we lesser in our own.
Sect. XII. — The third disposition for peace, a charitable
affection to our brethren.
Thirdly, to make up a fit composure towards peace, it shall be
requisite that we be charitably affected to our brethren, putting
the best construction upon their practices or opinions, and allowing
them such latitude of judgment in the lower rank of truths as
is no way prejudicial to the public peace.
It is a fair and equal rule of St. Augustin : " One thing may
seem right and true to me, another man may judge otherwise ;
0 Capell. Spicileg. in i Tim. iii. I. r Leg. Canuti apud Henr. Spelman.
i Damas. Epist. de Chorepiscopis.

624 The Peacemaker.
but neither do I prescribe what I say to another, neither doth
that other prescribe to me'. Charity, saith the apostle, thinks
not evil, i Cor. xiii. 5. If a word or action be capable of a good
sense, it is our fault if we suit it not with that best : and if our
favour should be mistaken, yet, as that Father said well, "It is
better to give an account for mercy than for cruelty3." Had
some men seen that austere Simeon, in the story', going into a
courtesan's house, and shutting the door after him, and making
some stay in that polluted room, he would perhaps have mis
doubted his unehastity ; whereas that holy man put himself under
that unhallowed roof for the happy conversion of that infamous
sinner, hazarding his reputation to win a soul.
There is nothing which may not be taken with either hand;
it is a spiritual unmannerliness to take it with the left. It was a
foul fault in Simon the Pharisee, and that which might have been
well worthy to lose the thank of his entertainment, that when he
saw the woman which was a sinner prostrate at the feet of Christ,
and making an ewer of her eyes and a towel of her hair, to wash
and wipe them, he could straight say, This man, if he were a
prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman it
is that toucheth him, Luke vii. 39 : whereas he should rather
have said, " What a merciful Saviour is this, that gives so gracious
an admission to so sinful a penitent !" That decision of casuists" is
full of charity, how just soever, That "although the mother hved
in the stews the child is presumed to be the husband's, not an
adulterer's :" neither is our useful judgment much short of this
favour, That if the husband be within the four seas, the child shall
be held not illegitimate.
The like candid interpretations must we give in matter of
opinions, making the best of doubtful terms, and receiving the
harshest expressions not without some grains of saltx ; the want
whereof may prove extremely injurious, both to the authors and
r Aug. in Ps. xvi. "Potest mihi ali- 1. viii. c. 19. Etiamsi mater viveret in
quid videri, alteri aliud ; sed neque eo prostibulo, prsesumitur filius mariti et
quod dixi ego praescribo alteri, nee ille non adulteri. Mart. Yivald. explan.
mihi." Bulla.
s Melius est propter misericordiam ra- * Cyrillus et Joh. Antiochenus ana-
tionem reddere, quam propter crudeli- thematizarunt se, hseresim sibimutuo ob-
tatem. Opus imperfect, in Matth. jicientes ; postea comperti idem sentire.
* Evagrius, l.iv. c. 34. [Oxon] 1844. Act. Concil. Ephesini. [Bin. in vita
u Quandoque jus fingit aliud esse quam Sixti III. torn i. p. 832. et p. 923.] —
sit, fingit mulierem stipulatam dotem, Idem de Cyrillo et Theodoreto. [ibid.
natum qui non est. Jo. de Geminiano, p. 907.]

Sect. XII.] The Peacemaker. 625
to ourselves ; for there is no human writing which needs not the
favour of such fair ingenuity, without which the Fathers them
selves would scarce sound orthodox. Thus Erasmus dares say,
that Augustin himself, even after all his Retractations, hath left
many things in his works simply heretical y ; and can say of Luther,
his great antagonist, that he hears some things are cried down in
his writings, which, if they were soberly argued among learned
and sincere men, would be found to avail much towards that spi
ritual and evangelical vigour, from which the world had too much
degenerated2 ; and elsewhere, in an epistle of his to Jodocus
Justus, he professes that those things which Luther urges, if they
be moderately handled, come more near to the power of the gospeK
Without this candour, what monsters of opinion doth prejudice
raise out of the most harmless writings ! No man ever could be
a more fit instance than that honour of Rotterdam, traduced be
yond example by the malicious cowls of his age : amongst whom,
John Standish, a Minorite, impudently calumniates him to the king
and queen of England, as one that denied the resurrection15 ;
others, that he had blasphemed all Christ's miracles as done by
magic : since which time, our modern pontificians, and Bellarmin0
amongst the rest, can brand him as a friend to Arianism, and a
patron of that anabaptistical fancy of the unlawfulness of war,
which yet himself, as prajscious of so unjust an imputation, pre
vents and confutes in an epistle to Paulus Voltziusrl. Shortly,
himself professes, that the very sentences of our Saviour Christ
and his apostle St. Paul, are, under his name, damned by his ad
versaries, when they are reported in his Paraphrase under another
person e.
I would to God this age were not palpably guilty of too much
uncharitableness this way. When we look upon errors, we
are apt, as those that see through a mist, to think them greater
y Erasm. Ep. lib. xxii. Joanni Episcopo. c Bellarm. Prsef. lib. de Christ. [Tngolst.
" Cum Augustinus, post editas Retracta- torn. i. p. 268.]
tiones, [multa] reliquerit sirapliciter hse- d Si quis a bellis, qua? jam saaculis ali-
retica ; si quis ea nunc velit tueri." quot ob res nihili plus quam Ethnice
« In Lutheri scriptis, &e. Erasm. Cut- gerimus, deterreat, notatur a sycophan-
berto Tonstallo, Episc. Londinens. [lib. tis quasi sentiat cum iis, qui negant ul-
xxii. ep. 2.] lum helium gerendum Christianis. [Lib.
a Quae Lutberus urget, si moderate xxiii. ep. 7. P. Voltzio.]
tractentur, mea sententia, propius acce- e Quid hie commemorem Christi Pauli-
dunt ad vigorem Evangelicum. Ep. 1. ii. que sententias, meo nomine damnatas,
ad Jodocum Justwn. [lib. xxii. ep. 10.] quum in paraphrasi sub aliena persona
b Erasm. Ep.l. xv. Thom. Moro.[l. xvi. referuntur? Ep. 1. xxii. [Ep. 8. Mart.
ep. 1.] Lipsio.]
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. S S

626 The Peacemaker.
than they are : every fault is a crime, every misopinion an heresy.
Neither can it be otherwise, while we are ready to impute to the
contrary-minded, not only those things which they profess to hold,
but those which we conceive to be consequent to their opinions,
how vehemently soever disclaimed and defied by the authors. For
the instances whereof, besides those of our daily experience, I refer
my reader to the treatise of Christian Moderation, where they
are, to our sorrow, specified?. This is no other than to enlarge
the breach and widen the wounds of God's Church ; which we
ought, by all good means, to bind and make uph. Why should
not I rather, when I meet with an hard and crabbed expression
in a worthy divine, (as Piscator, Beza, Parous,) say, as Cruciger
said of Luther', that " he means better than sometimes in his heat
he speaketh 1" and say of the works of our learned authors, as he
said of the Pontifician Laws, that they are reverenter glossanda,
" to have a reverent gloss put upon them ?" Were this really and
cordially done, we should appear more innocent, and be less
unquiet. Sect. XIII. — The fourth disposition for peace, an yieldableness
upon sight of clearer truths.
In the fourth and last place, if we would be fitly composed to
peace, we may not be too peremptory in our opinions and reso
lutions of slight and unimporting verities'1.
We cannot be too stiff in the maintenance of main truths,
though even to blood ; our life can never be better sacrificed
than in so holy a quarrel. The faith that was once delivered to
the saints must be earnestly contended for, Jude 3; but for
other matters, that concern rather the ornament than the essence
of religion, though they are fit to be known and resolved on; yet,
with no other confidence than that we are ready to yield upon a
stronger conviction.
So, the blessed apostle, that was ready to die for the name of
the Lord Jesus, yet in ritual, outward, indifferent observances,
professeth to become all things to all men, that he might by all
means save some, i Cor. ix. 22 ; and he, that withstood Peter for
s Christian Moderation, book ii. rule 7 : ' Eum commodius sentire, quam inter-
[see p. 468, of this volume.] dum loquitur, dum effervescit. Boxhor-
b Nee ostentemus industriam, aut Set- nm.exAutographoCrucigeri."Sic.etP\d\.
poVijto, in augendis discordiis ut multi Melanch : Sciebam horridius scripturum
faciunt. Phil. Melanch. ad Amicum Lutherum, quam sentit." Ep. ubi supra.
quendam: an. 1544. Dissimulandus in k Cum mentem in melius mutare, non
corpore pulchro [pulcherrimo] nsevus levitas sit, sed virtus. Amb. in Ps. cxix.
uiiub. Maldon. in Joawnis xx. [v. 23.] [cxviii.]

Sect. XIII.J The Peacemaker. 627
Judaizing, to scandal and danger of loss (Gal. ii. n, 12, 13.), pro
fesseth, that to the Jews he became as a Jew, that he might gain
the Jews ; to them that are without law, as without law, that he
might gain them that are without law, 1 Cor. ix. 20, 21.
Some duties and opinions may be such, as do not oblige us to
a necessary constancy ; but, as we say of fashions, may vary upon
occasion, according to the exigence of time and place. The
apostolical constitution for abstaining from things strangled and
from blood, though a famous synodical act, did not yet long bind
the Church, Acts xv. 20; neither know I whether it fell not
under St. Paul's rudiments of Touch not, taste not, handle not,
Col. ii. 20, 21 : and those love-feasts, which were with good
allowance celebrated in those primitive times, outlived not many
ages. What determination St. Ambrose gave to young Augustin
and his mother Monica, concerning the Saturday-fast, is well
known, and holds in all the like occasions. Rome hath one rite,
Milan another.
Neither was it other in the times of the Law, The brazen altar
was for the sacrifices ; and who durst offer besides it ? yet, by
reason of the multitude of the offerings and incapacity of the altar,
Solomon hallowed the middle of the court that was before the
house of the Lord for that purpose, 1 Kings viii. 64. Neither
doth he content himself with the same number of cherubims
which were in the tabernacle, but doubles it. So did his father
David before him anticipate the age of the priests, entering into
their service five years earlier than the Mosaical appointment.
Certainly, no law of God or man holds a man close to his own
first resolutions in things not necessary or morally requisite.
It was a famous case that is related of Agesilaus. His men
ran shamefully away in the Leuctric fight. The law was, that
flight must be punished with death. The wise king, finding the
crime so universal, enacts, that the law must sleep for that day's
work, but ever after must be awakened to an impartial execu
tion k: "So," saith the historian, "the law, remaining entire in
the words of the act, was, in the effect, for the present repealed1."
The like, Appian tells us, was done in the case of Scipio, whose
age was not yet by law capable of magistracy, though his parts
were : the senate not thinking it fit to lose the employment of so
k [Plutarch. Vit. Agesilai, Lond. 1723. 1 Outojs b vbuos iv rofs eavrov pjjpaat
p. 404.] "Oti tovs vdpovs 8h fffipepov idv ptivas, itpycp KareXti&n. Dio Cass. 1. xxxix.
na9cvSeiv, &c. [Ed. Steph. 1591. p.i 10 ]
S S 2

6CZ8 The Peacemaker.
eminent faculties, decrees the law, for that once, void ; ever after,
in full force. The like is to be said and done in matter of opinion1".
It is a most odious thing to be an Ecebolius in religion. That
resolution of Ambrose was noble, and worthy of a Christian
bishop, which he took up to Valentinian the younger: " I follow,"
saith he, " the determination of the Nicene Council ; from which
neither sword nor death shall ever separate me" :" yet the same
father was not less pliant in matter of rite, as we formerly inti
mated, than inflexible in points of faith.
And this is a disposition fit for all the clients of peace, to hold
fast in known truths; in doubtful, to maintain, though not too
eagerly, the probablest : in the main truths, to be overruled by
faith ; in less matters, by better reason. So the African bishops,
with much Christian modesty, in the Council of Carthage : " It
remains," say they, " that every man speak what he thinks of
this matter ; judging no man ; nor removing any man from our
communion that is contrary-minded0."
Now therefore, to wind up this clue of our discourse, if we be
humble and meek-minded, if obedient to our spiritual guides, if
charitable to our brethren, if not too peremptory in our opinions,
we have attained to a meet temper for the entertainment of
peace. Sect. XIV. — The third way or rule of peace: the avoiding
unnecessary questions.
In the private way of peace, it must be our third care to put
off unnecessary questions, and to set bounds to our curiosity.
There are three ranks of truths : there are some, necessary ;
some, profitable ; some, impertinent. The necessary truths are
neither P many nor obscure : the impertinent are many, and as
litigious as useless: only the profitable are worthy of our studious
and careful disquisition.
It would anger a patient man to read of Lupercus Berytius, the
grammarian, that wrought three books of the Greek particle &vi :
or of a schoolman, that tediously disputes whether a man may
equitare sine equo ; and acutely argues the difference betwixt
modo quodam and quodam modoT : whose vain agitations were
m Non turpe est sententiam mutare, P Pauca sunt necessaria vera. Beg.
[et resipiscere,] &c. Greg. Naz. 0rat.$2. Columb.
[xxxv. ad I So. Episc] q Suidas.
¦> Ambrose, [lib. v.] ep. 32. ad Valent. r j0. Major. Vid. Melancth. Apolog.
° Cone. Carth. sub Cyprian. [Bin. advers. Parisienses Sophist.
Col. Agr. 1606. torn. i. p. 199.]

Sect. XIV.] The Peacemaker. 629
enough to put a man to the study, whether it were better for a
man to he idle or to do nothing. There is a world of such frivo
lous thoughts, meet for them that know not what to do with their
leisure. These are apt to engender strife s, and, like worms in the mud,
to raise bubbles in the water.
Neither ever was the Church of God free from such sleeveless
and unnecessary quarrels.
Even in the Jewish Church, besides those five main sects,
betwixt the families or combinations of Shammai and Hillel*, we
read of a deadly dissension, in eighteen, some say twenty- four,
several points : so great, as that it was not to be composed by
Elias himself ; of whom they had wont to say, upon all occasions
of doubt or difference, Tisbi solvet nodos; "The Tisbite shall
untie all our knots."
As for the evangelical Church, how it was even in the first age
disquieted with these busy impertinencies, we need no other wit
ness than St. Paul himself, whose frequent charges are vehe
mently bent against fables and endless genealogies, 1 Tim. i. 4,
Titus i. 14; contentions and strivings about the law, Titus iii. 9 ;
against profane and vain babblings, 2 Tim. ii. 16 : against strife
of words to no profit, but to the subverting ofthe hearers, 1 Tim.
ii. 14.
In the succeeding age, what loud and intemperate janglings
the unadvised zeal of Victor raised, concerning the time of the
celebration of Easter, is too well known.
Very remarkable is that passage betwixt Gregory bishop of
Rome, and Mauritius the emperor. Cyriacus, the bishop of Con
stantinople, would needs style himself universal bishop. Gregory
doth very gravely advise him, " to refrain from giving himself so
foolish a title".11 Mauritius, the emperor, interposes; and, find
ing the quarrel grow hot between two so eminent prelates,
commands the peace ; and charges them, " that, for the appel
lation of a frivolous name, there may not a scandal be raised in
God's Church".'1 Gregory replies modestly and discreetly to the
emperor : " I beseech your imperial piety to consider, that there
are some frivolous things which are altogether harmless ; but

- Erroris comes arguta subtilitas, &c. compescat. [Bin. torn. ii. 1. vi. 4.]
Orth. Frisin. x Mauritius praecepit, ne, pro appel-
' Serar. Rab. prior. [1. i.] latione frivoli nominis, scandalum, &c.
" Ut ab stulti vooabuli se appellatione [ibid.]

630 The Peacemaker.
others, again, extremely hurtful Y: for," saith he, "when Anti
christ comes, and shall call himself God, it is a very frivolous
thing so to term himself, but yet it is too too pernicious. If we
regard the quantity of the word, Deus, alas ! it is but two
syllables; but if we respect the weight of the iniquity, it is a
world of mischief." Both said well, and to our purpose : the
emperor, that frivolous matters may not break the peace ; the
bishop, that those points whose frivolousness is hurtful and per
nicious must be strongly opposed.
Every slight question is not worthy of our engagement. Why
would we herein grudge men the freedom of different thoughts ?
He is no mean casuist2 amongst the Romish divines, that tells us
confidently it is the received judgment of their holiest doctors,
that "it is no inconvenience to hold, that amongst the very angels
themselves there may be a diversity of opinion, in regard of those
things which tend towards the end, so long as they all make
jointly to the self-same end." How much more must this be
tolerateoVto the best of men ! Though our lives differ in the cir
cumference, it is no great matter, so long as they meet in one
centre of essential truth. It was sound counsel that Pomeranusa
gives to the ministers of God's word, Ne tot articulis, Sec. : That
they should not, with so many articles and creeds and confes
sions, confound the minds of plain Christians ; but that they
should draw up the sum of their belief into some few heads.
Nothing hinders, but that professors and licentiates in divinity
may busy their thoughts and spend their hours upon the knotty
and abstruse questions of that sacred faculty ; as those who would
account it a shame to be ignorant of any cognoscible truth ; but
why should the heads of ordinary Christians be perplexed with
those curious disquisitions'3? Let the schools engross those nice
and deep speculations ; let not the pulpits be vexed with them.
y Sed rogo ut imperialis pietas penset, b [Ids ya\p roiavras ^nrvaus k. r. K.
quia alia sunt frivola, valde innoxia ; Socr. 1. i. c. 7.] Tales qusestiones, quales
[atque] alia vehementer nociva, &c. nulla Lex Canonve Ecclesiasticus neces-
Greg. Maurit. Aug. 1. vi. ep. 30. [Bin. sario pnescribit, sed inanis dissoluti otii
torn, ii.] certatio proponit ; licet ad ingenii acu-
z Pet. Aquil. diet. Scotellus in Sent, men exercendum instituautur, tamen
lib. ii. dist. n. "Ad hoc [quod] dico interiore mentis cogitatione continere
secundum viam sanctorum, quod nullum debemus ; et neque in publicos populi
inconveniens est, inter angelos esse conventus temere offerre, neque vulgi
opinionum diversitatem, quantum ad ea auribus inconsulto concredere. Con-
quse sunt ad finem, dummodo manet stant. Epistola ad Alexandrum ct Arium,
identitas finis." Euseb. 1. ii. c. 69. [ Vit. Const.]
J Pomcran. in 1 Cor. xv.

Sect. XV.] The Peacemaker. 631
And for us that are God's ministers, whatever we may do in our
studies, yet, when we come to speak to the assemblies of God's
people, let us take up the resolution of the blessed apostle, /
determined not to know any thing among you save Jesus Christ,
and him crucified, i Cor. ii. 2.
Sect. XV. — The fourth way of peace : to labour and pray for
further illumination in all requisite truths.
All necessary truths are plain and open ; but many profitable
truths, which may much concern us to know, and wherein we
ought to accord, want not some difficulty. We are not bidden to
sit down in mere necessaries, but are vehemently called upon to
grow up in knowledge. It is the gracious promise of God to us
by his prophet Hoseas ; Then shall we know, if we follow on to
know the Lord : his going forth is prepared as the morning ;
and he shall come unto us as the rain, as the latter and former
rain to the earth, Hosea vi. 3. And it is the daily prayer of the
apostle to God for his Colossians, that they might be filled with
the knowledge of his will, in all wisdom and spiritual under
standing, Col. i. 9.
In the fourth place, therefore, it will be the duty of every
private" Christian, as in the ready way of peace, to labour and
pray for further illumination in all requisite truth, and for a ready
inclination of heart to a peaceable agreement therein.
For there are two things which hinder us from an unanimous
conspiring in the same truth ; either want of light in the under
standing, that we cannot look so deep into the mysteries of divine
verity as others, or some obstructions in the will and affections,
through prejudice against the person or matter proposed. Both
these must be removed by our prayers, by our endeavours.
It was the request of the man after God's own heart, Open
thou mine eyes, that I may behold the wondrous things of thy
law, Ps, cxix. 1 8 ; and in a real and heavenly compliment with
his Maker, / am thy servant ; give me understanding, that I
may know thy testimonies, Ps. cxix. 125. It was his, and must
be ours ; whose continual suit for ourselves must be that wliich
the blessed apostle ceases not to make for his Ephesians, That
the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may
give unto us the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the know
ledge of him ; that the eyes of our understanding may be en
lightened, Eph. i. 17, 18. Neither may we expect that God will

632 The Peacemaker.
work miracles for us ; that he will crown our idleness with bless
ings; that he will force mercies upon us, and tear open our lids,
that he may shine into our eyes. No ; he looks that we should
humbly comply with the means, and answer his heavenly motions
with the willing obedience of our best endeavours ; otherwise,
This is tlie condemnation, that light is come into the world, and
men loved darkness more than light, John iii. 19.
It is possible for a man to know the truth, and yet to withAoW
it in unrighteousness, Rom. i. 18. Illumination is not always
followed with obedience. There are those, saith the apostle,
which, notwithstanding the light of knowledge, are contentious,
and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, Rom. ii. 8.
So as our prayers and endeavours must not be more bent against
blind eyes than against froward hearts, Prov. xi. 20 ; xii. 8 ; for
there doth naturally reign in us a certain envious perverseness of
spirit, which many times sets us off from the acknowledgment of
those truths whereof we are inwardly convinced. I have some
times read in Maldonate's Commentaries, when he falls upon a
probable and fair sense of a difficult text, that he subjoins, " I
could like that explication well, if it were not Calvin's ;" like to
that prejudicate Italian, who, being at a deadly feud with a great
rival of honour, gave his vote, after a nap taken in the senate, in
no other terms than these: — "I am against that which N. spake;"
and being told that opposite of his had not yet spoken, "Then,"
saith he, " against what he will speak c.11 This disposition makes
men such as the Psalmist complains of, haters of peace, Ps. cxx. 6;
of whom the Holy Ghost passeth an heavy doom : Destruction
and misery is in their ways ; the way of peace have they not
known, Rom. iii. 16, 17.
As, therefore, it concerns every man to labour and pray
against all unpeaceable affections in himself, so also to strive,
both these ways, against the common distempers of others.
Even those that cannot aid God's Church with their counsels,
with their purses, yet with their prayers they may ; yea, they
must : 0 pray for the peace of Jerusalem : they shall prosper
that love thee: peace be within thy ivalls, and plenteousness
within thy palaces. For my brethren and companions' sake,
I will now say, Peace be within thee : because of the house of
the Lord our God, I will seek thy good, Ps. cxxii. 6 — 9.
" Bait. Cast, de Aulico. [Baldes. Castil. de Aul. (Latine.) 1. ii, Franc. 1594,
p. 194.]

Sect. XV.] The Peacemaker. 633
Next to our prayers, there is no better way to attain further
illumination and settlement in all holy truths, than to walk
conscionably after that light we have received. It is a golden
rule of our blessed Saviour, If any man will do his will, he
shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, John vii. 1 7.
Hence it is that the Jews say, "Abraham had no other master
than his own reins;" his humble obedience drew on further
entireness with God ; for, to him that hath shall be given, saith
our Saviour : the improvement of one talent is graciously re
warded with more. In vain shall we complain of slackening our
work for the want of a greater light, when we sit idle, and do
nothing at all by a less.
It was a smart answer, which a witty and learned minister11
of the reformed church of Paris gave to a lady of suspected
chastity, and now revolted, when she pretended the hardness
of the Scripture, " Why," said he, " madam, what can be more
plain than, Thou shalt not commit adultery ? " Had she not
been failing in the practice of what she could not but know, she
had found no cause to complain of the difficulty of that which she
could not know ; but it seems she, as too many more of us, was of
the Athenian strain, of whom Tully says the proverb went, that
" they knew what was right, but would not do it e."
Did we not come short of our humble dependence upon God,
and our care to be approved of him in known duties, our appre
hensions could not miss of those things which concern our peace.
Very memorable is that instance of the learned chancellor of Paris,
which, in imitation of St. Paul, he gives, I suppose, of himself in
a third person ; " I knew a man," saith he, " that, after much
temptation concerning one of the articles of belief, was suddenly
brought into so great light of truth and certainty, that there were
left no remainders of doubt, no vacillation, but much clearness and
serenity, by the command of Him that overrules the waves, &c. ;
who, by the sole humiliation and captivating his understanding to
the obedience of faith and the omnipotence of God, obtained such
grace, as that he no more doubted of that point of belief than of
his own being ; and when he sought the reason of so great assur
ance and peace in believing, he did meet with no other, hut that
so he found it, and that he could not convey it into another man1."
a M. Durant. tentationis, &c. Jo. Gerson. De Distinc-
e Athenienses scire qua? recta Bunt, tione Verarum Yisionum a Falsis. [Ed.
sed facere nolle Cic. de Sen. [c. 18.] 15 14, Pars I. XIX. A.]
1 Novi hominem, qui post multum

634 The Peacemaker.
Thus be. Surely our God is still and ever the same. Were not
we wanting to ourselves, he would not fail to lead us into all truth ;
and, the truth being but one, we should happily meet in the same
truth : so as now truth and peace should kiss each other, and we
should be blessed in both.
Sect. XVI. — The fifth rule of peace: to comply with our brethren
so far as we safely may.
Fifthly, it shall mainly conduce to peace, that we comply with
our brethren so far as we safely may; that we walk along lovingly
with them so far as our way goes together ; and then, since we
must needs, part friends.
That great council of Milan, however faulty 6, yet begins well
in their synodical letters to Eusebius h : " Your dear love is not
ignorant, how precious the bond of charity and peace is to be
esteemed." Even those that break the peace cannot but praise
it ; how much more should they bid for it that are true friends to
it, and to that amicableness that attends it !
We cannot keep too much aloof from those without, except it
be to fetch them in. How happy were it, if herein we could
learn wit of enemies ! What a cautious decree was that which
Clement the Viiith made for his Italians, that none of them
might dare to dwell in any place under heretics, save where
there is an allowed church with a Roman Catholic priest; and
that no man should be sent forth for traffick to any heretical
country under the age of twenty-five years M And no less strict
and wary was that of Gregory the XVth. That no heretic might,
under what pretence soever, hire an house, or make his abode in
Italy and the isles adjacent k. Neither was it without great cause
that the synod of Laodicea, about the year 364, decreed, that no
Christian should celebrate festivals with pagans, heretics, Jews1.
And the council of Ravenna no less wisely ordered, that no Jew
might come forth of his doors without a roundel of yellow cloth
upon his upper garment, that he might be distinguished for
avoidance m. I love the zeal of those Athenians, that would not
wash in the same bath with the persecutors of Socrates n.
s Concil. Mediolan. univers. repro- Italia? et adjacentium insularum, &c.
batum. [Bin. Col. Agr. 1606, torn. i. Vide Garant. v. Hceresis. [Bin. torn. iii.
p. 47 '•] pars 2. p. 1 516.]
L Lit. Synod. Eusebio Fratri. Non ' Synod. Laod. juxta Caranz. Can. 37
ignorat charissima nobis dilectio tua, &c. et 39. [Bin. torn. i. p. 291.] — Hospin.de
[Ibid. p. 472.] Origine Fest. Christ.
1 Provinc. Clem. VIII. an. 1596. "i Cone. Raven. Rubric. 23.
[Concil. Aquil.] >¦ Plutarch. [n»pl <p$6vov koX plaovs,
k .Greg. XV. anno 1622. In locis § 6.]

Sect. XVI.] The Peacemaker. 635
But this wise averseness from the known enemies of peace may
and must be accompanied with a friendly correspondence with
differing brethren. The same spirit that delivered up Hymenseus
and Alexander unto Satan, that they might learn not to blaspheme,
i Tim. i. 20, gives charge, Him that is weak in the faith receive
ye, Rom. xiv. 1 . He that every where preached the abrogation
of the law of ceremonies, yet, to comply with the Jews, yielded
to a legal purification, Acts xxi. 16. He that found so many and
gross errors in the Church of Corinth, as one would think might
have been enough to have estranged him from it, continues the
professions of his dearest respects of it, and salutes them, saints.
We must so deal with our brethren, as Mariana tells0 us it is the
fashion of his society ; whose drift, saith he, is, that what is mis-
done hy them may be covered with earth, and withheld from the
notice of the world.
Our charity therefore will teach us to mince those errors which
we cannot suppress, and where we find extremes, to strain both
parts what we may, to meet in the mean.
Thus did the holy African bishops, in the case of a dangerous
distraction that fell out in their church P. Felicissimus, a loose
and over -kind schismatic, stiffly held, that all that were lapsed in
the heat of persecution should be presently received without any
penance at all. Novatian, on the other side, maintains the con
trary extreme — that none of those who had thus offended should
at all be received into the bosom of the Church. The Church
is miserably divided. Hereupon forty-two bishops are, by the
authority of Cyprian, assembled in a synod. They, walking in a
midway, define, that peace and reconciliation is not to be denied
to those which had fallen in time of persecution, that humbly
sued for their readmission, if they had once fulfilled the penances
enjoined them ; and this they decreed should be ordinarily done,
unless the peril of present death or the instant persecution of
tyrants required a dispensation. Thus the godly fathers did
evenly cut a thread betwixt the rigour of the one side and the
over-indulgence of the other ; and, as wise arbitrators are wont
to do, detracted something from either part, that they might set
peace between both.
Thus, in the modern question, concerning the extent of the
" Totum societatis regimen est, &c. p Vide in Concil. Carthag. 2. sub
I. Mariana de Morbis Societatis,eorumque Cornelio Notas Binii. [Tom. i. p. 176.]
Remediis.

636 The Peacemaker.
benefit of Christ's death and passion, while some teach that Christ
died for all mankind, others that he died only for some, viz., those
that believe, a learned and discreet moderator q goes between
both, and, yielding something to either part, reconciles both.
" When we say Christ died for mankind, we mean," saith he,
" that Christ died for the benefit of mankind. Now, let this
benefit be distinguished, and contentions hereabouts will cease;
for if this benefit be considered as the remission of sins, and the
salvation of our souls, these are benefits obtainable only upon the
condition of faith and repentance ; on the one side, no man will
say that Christ died to this end, to procure forgiveness and salva
tion to every one, whether they believe and repent, or no ; so, on
the other, none will deny but that he died to this end, that salva
tion and remission should redound to all and every one, in case
they should repent and believe ; for this depends upon the suffi
ciency of that price which our Saviour paid for the redemption of
the world, &c. And to pay a price sufficient for the redemption
of all and every one is, in a fair sense, to redeem all and every one."
Thus he ; so as neither part can find fault with the decision, and
both must rest satisfied.
The like must we endeavour to do in all differences that are
capable of an atonement ; for certainly it is too much stiffness to
stand ever on the height, and to give1" no quarter in the matter
of opinion ; like those peremptory s Egyptians, which, in several
cities, would either profess to abhor the crocodile or to deify him.
There is a mean, if we could hit on it, in all, save fundamental
quarrels, worthy to be the scope of all our charitable desires ;
which if we could attain and rest in, we and the Church of God
should be peaceable and happy 4.
Sect. XVII. — The last way qf peace : to let fall our own interest
for the public.
Lastly, the ready way for private persons to procure peace, is,
i D. Twisse in his Animadversions Juvcn. Sat. xv. 37. [Coptos et Ten-
upon D. Jackson. And to the same tyra.]
effect D. Rivotus Disp. 6. [5. de statu * Patres nostri, non solum ante Cy-
humil. Christi.] de Redemptione. prianum vel Agrippinum, sed postea,
* Quod gravius ferremus, si quisquam saluberrimam consuetudinem tenuerunt,
ullam disciplinam philosophia? probaret, ut quicquid divinum atque legitimum in
prater earn quam ipse sequeretur. [Cic. aliqua hceresi vel schismate integrum
Acad. Lucullus, § 3.] reperirent, approbarent potius quam
"  Cum solos credit habendos negarent. August. [De Bapt. Contra
Esse Deos, quos ipse colit,  Don. lib. iii. § 28.!

Sect. XVII.] The Peacemaker. 637
that every one should be willing to let fall his own interest for the
advancement of the public.
What are we but members of one and the same u community,
whether of church or kingdom ? and what member is there that
doth not willingly yield up itself to the preservation of the whole
body ? This natural intercourse there is between the very elements
themselves, that each of them is ready to forsake his own place
for the benefit and advantage of the universe.
Hereupon it was that the Chosen Vessel was content to undergo,
not labour and sorrow and care only, but pain too ; / now rejoice,
saith he, in my sufferings for you, and fill up that which is
behind of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh, for his body's
sake, which is the Church, Col. i. 24. If what we do or suffer
be not with relation to the common good, wTe forget our interest
and lose our thanks ; and if, in our undertakings, we find a certain
self stand in the way of our public ends, he must be shouldered
out or trampled upon, if ever we expect a comfortable issue.
How commendable was that example of Maximianus x, a worthy
bishop, who, being lately converted from the schism ofthe Donatists
to the Catholic Church, when he saw that he could not be peace
ably received of the people, out of a godly care of the common
peace, openly professed before the fathers of the Milevitan Council,
that he was wilhng to renounce his interest in his bishopric, and
besought them that another might be chosen in his place ; where
upon the cause was examined, his abdication admitted, his brother
Castorius substituted in his room, and the church quieted !
The want of this pious ingenuity is that which hath been the
cause of all the distempers both raised and continued in the
Church of God ; in that prime and leading persons have been
fastened so close to their own concernments, that they might not
be induced to leave their hold for the public good.
Surely it is that for which those who have sat at the stern of
the Roman Church must look to give an heavy account ; for the
general reformation of the whole Church, as one Y said truly,
hath, like the rabbit's skin, stuck thus long at the head. Their
ingenuous Cassander confesses no less. Woe be to them who, for
the carnal respects of worldly honours and profits, withhold the
a [Ob hoc Cato laudatur cujus mores x Concil, Milevit. Vide Notas Binii.
esse Lucanus ait,] Maximianus Vagiensis Episc. [Tom. i.
Cato, cujus mores erant, Lucano p. 591.]
referente, y M. Struther in his " Looking Glass
Toti genitum se credere mundo — for Princes."
Gers. de Ang. [pars iv. §1. K-]

638 The Peacemaker.
truth in unrighteousness, Rom. i. 18, forcibly blindfolding God's
people, that they may not see themselves deceived ; bearing
themselves so high upon that insolent pretence of infallibility,
that it is no less than spiritual treason once to question it ; and
upon that ground hating to relent in the least misprision, lest
they should seem to yield the Church of Rome might err.
Where shall the blood of those millions of souls which have
miscarried through this arrogant usurpation be required, but at
those hands who would rather choose the world should perish
than their crest should fall ? What should I touch at those
secular violences that upon this only ground have been raised
against the Henrys and Fredericks of old, or those bloody con
testations of Guelfes and Gibelines, or those cruel competitions of
succeeding antipopes ? Cardinal Peron z and the last age can say
enough of the proceedings of Clement the Vllth against Henry
the Viiith of England, and of Leo the Xth against the pro
testants of Germany, which, saith he, have been attended with
the loss and ruin of many great provinces ; and our own eyes can
testify sufficiently what courses have been held against our two
last glorious sovereigns and the Venetian state ; and all these, on
no other ground than this, that proud stomachs would not abide
to remit aught of their unjustly challenged greatness.
Neither is it otherwise in matter of judgment. It is possible I
may meet with some private opinion which I may strongly con
ceive more probable than the common, and perhaps I may think
myself able to prove it so ; shall I presently, out of an ostentation
of my own parts, vent this to the world, and strain my wit to
make it good by a peremptory defence, to the disturbance of the
Church, and not rather smother it in my own bosom, as thinking
the loss much easier of a conceit than of peace ?
That of Mr. Calvin is very exemplary, who, writing to Olevian3
concerning the giving of the holy eucharist to the sick, and having
showed reasons for that practice, shuts up with, Scis, frater, "You
know, brother, that the fashion is otherwise with us ; I bear with
it, because it is not profitable to contend ;" a charitable rule, and
worthy to be universal ; and indeed little other than apostolical ;
for after order given for the covering of the heads of women in
the congregation, St. Paul shuts up with this conclusion, But if
1 Card. Peron. En Lettres au Roy de » Calv. Ep. 365. Episc. Brechen. de
France, pour la Pacification entre la Pape Perthanis Articulis. [Ep. 363 Laus.
et la Seigneurie de Veniso. 1676.]

Sect. XVIII.] The Peacemaker. 639
any man seem to be contentious, we have no such custom, neither
the churches of God, i Cor. xi. 16.
There are too many who, like the trout or salmon, love to swim
against the stream ; and too justly may we take up the old com
plaint of Alvarus Pelagius. " He is no knowing man, nowadays,
that devises not some novelties of opinions D." Should I gather up
and present to the world a just catalogue of those wild conceits
that have been broached in these later times, I should shame the
present age and amaze the following. Certainly these spirits are
no friends to peace, else they would not so vainly pursue their own
interest against the public.
It is the praise of the Netherlands, and that whereto we do
justly ascribe their strange prosperity, that they look not so much
at their own particular advantages as the raising of the stock of
the honour and wealth of the public state0. If such could be our
respects to the Church and causes of God, both they and we
should flourish ; which, contrarily, neglected have involved us in
those unspeakable miseries which we suffer.
Shortly then, to sum up what we have said concerning this part
of our discourse ; if we shall effectually labour against the grounds
and causes of contention, pride, self-love, envy, covetousness ; if
we shall compose ourselves to a temper fit for the entertainment
of peace, that is, if we shall be humble and meek-minded, if obe
dient to our spiritual guides, if charitable to our brethren, if not too
peremptory in our own apprehensions ; if, thirdly, we shall put off
unnecessary questions, and set bounds to our curiosity ; if we shall
pray and labour for further illumination in all requisite truths,
and shall therefore walk conscionably after the light which we
have received ; if we shall comply, so far as we lawfully may, with
our Christian brethren ; if, lastly, we shall be content to let fall
our own interest, out of a tender respect to the public, we shall
tread comfortably in the private way of peace, and shall, in our
particular stations, have contributed our due endeavours to the
tranquillity and happiness of the Church of Christ.
Sect. XVIII. — Ofthe ways of peace which concern the public.
It remains that we now address ourselves to the laying forth
of the public ways of peace, such as concern authority to
walk in. b Non est sciens hodie, qui novitates non invenit.
c Tho. Scot, his Belgick Pismire.

640 The Peacemaker.
The first public way of peace : to suppress the beginnings of spi
ritual quarrels. Which shall be done, if first the broachers
of new opinions be by gentle means reclaimed.
The first whereof shall be, a careful endeavour to suppress the be
ginnings of spiritual quarrels : a practice which we may well take
out from the authors of our municipal laws, who have taken so
strict order against menacing words, which might draw on a fray ;
and routs, and riots, which may tend towards insurrection.
Seldom do great mischiefs seize upon us wholly at once, but
proceed by certain degrees to their full height ; and as it is in cor
ruption of manners, so also in depravation of judgment, no man is
worst at the first. It is a true word which Gerson cites out of the
decree1*, That schism disposes towards heresy : for he that flies off
from the Church must pretend errors, lest he should seem to
have made a causeless separation ; and where there is a discord
there will be strifee. As that father said of sin, we may truly
say of errors, the beginnings of them are bashful ; neither dare
they at their first rise show what they mean to be.
It shall be therefore the best wisdom of authority to check the
first motions of contention, and to kill this cockatrice in the egg.
Remedies seasonably applied are seldom ineffectual.
And this shall be done, first, if when any heterodox or irregular
doctrine shall be let fall, it be taken at the first rebound, and the
author and avower fairly dealt withal, and strongly convinced of
his error, that so he may, by all gentle and loving persuasions,
be reclaimed before the leaven of his misopinion have spread any
further to the souring of others.
It shall be needless to urge how requisite it is that all brotherly
kindness should in such case be used. Our proceedings in the
cure of the painful tumours of the body direct us what to do in
the spiritual ; we lay suppling and mollifying plasters to these
angry swellings ere we make use of the lancet. I find it a praise
given to one Comitulus, a bishop of Perusia, that he did paterne
et materne loqui cum clero; "treat with his clergy with the
gravity of a father and the affection of a mother f.11 So should
erring souls be dealt with. Rigour and roughness may not have
place here, much less cruelty and violence.
Our story tells us of one Ithacius, a Spanish bishop, that out of
his zeal had obtained of the king that the Priscillianists, a dangerous
a Jo. Gerson de Schismat. nostramrepetimus. Moschon. deJudiciis.
- Discordia, ubi animus est dissenti- ' Earth. Gavant. Praxi Synod. Dio-
endi ; lis, ubi, necessitate urgente, rem eesana?. Annotat. sect. z.

Sect. XVIII.] The Peacemaker. 641
and perfidious sect, should be punished with death. A holier
bishop than he, whom the following ages graced with the name of
a saint, Martins, took part with him in that zealous project : whom
yet the rest of the clergy and Church cried down for intolerably
bloody. Upon their clamours, and the monition of an angel, as
the story says, Martin bethinks himself of the oversight ; recants
his error, and professes, that ever since he had given way to that
cruel sentence, he had sensibly found in himself a decay of that
power of grace which he had formerly felt.
What kind of courtesy shall we hold it in our Romish casuists h,
that they advise their confraternity of the blood of Christ, whom
the Italians call their confortatori, whose office is to attend their
heretics, our martyrs, with tapers and images to their stakes ; not
to give way, by any means, that at their holy candles any torches
should be lighted for the kindling of that' fire wherewith the he
retics should be burned. Their bloodthirsty cruelty adjudgeth
us to that flame which their merciful taper shall not kindle. They
that are prodigal of their fagots, stick to lend a light, and think
themselves well discharged of our blood, which their wax would
not be accessary unto. Certainly, these butcheries will never be
owned in heaven. Fire and sword are no fit means to settle or
recover truth'.
What will ye ? saith the blessed apostle : shall I come unto
you with a rod, or in love, and in the spirit of meekness 'I i Cor.
iv. 21. He speaks not of a sword : he, whose weapons were not
carnal, had nothing to do with that : he speaks of love and meek
ness, and at the worst, of a rodk.
And as he does, so he charges : Brethren, if any man be
overtaken in a fault, whether of judgment or manners, ye which
are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness ; con
sidering thyself, lest thou also shouldst be tempted, Gal. vi. i .
A man of understanding, saith the wisest king, is of a cool
spirit, Prov. xvii. 27, (margin) : not fiery and furious. Christ is
the Lamb of God; Satan is a lion, John i. 29 ; Rev. v. 6; 1 Pet.
v. 8 ; the meekness of this Lamb is this which we must imitate,
not the ferity of that lion. " Be not a lion in thine own house,"

* Vide Notas in Concil. Treverens. quia nemo cogitur ut credat invitus.
[Bin. torn. i. p. 536.] k Paulus cum ense et libro pingitur. —
h Les Confrades de la Sangre de Christo. Mucro furor Pauli liber est conversio
Martin Vivald. Cas. Buc. Sauli. Durand. Ration, lib. i. c. 3 . [fol. viii.
1 Religionem imperare non possumus, Argent, i486.]
BP. HALL, VOL. VI. T t

642 The Peacemaker.
saith the Wise Man, Ecclus. iv. 30 : nor yet in the house of God,
as knowing that the greatest authority in God's Church is given
for edification, and not for destruction, 2 Cor. x. 8, and that the
destroying of the body is not the way to save the soul.
It was the praise of Proclus, bishop of Constantinople, that he
dealt mildly with all men ; and so much the sooner drew men to
Christ with the cords of love. True belief may be wrought by
persuasion; by compulsion, never1.
Let strong arguments therefore be fetters wherewith the erring
soul shall be bound : let the twoedged sword of the Word and
Spirit strike deep into the heart, and divide betwixt the man and
his error ; so, besides the Church's peace, I know not whether
the agent or the patient be more happy : Brethren, saith St.
James, if any of you do err from the truth, and one convert him;
let him know, that he which converteth the sinner from the
error of his way shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a
multitude of sins, James v. 19, 20.
Sect. XIX. — The second way of suppression of strange doc
trines by timely cutting off the means of spreading infec
tion, whereof the first is the society ofthe infected.
In the second place, for the seasonable prevention of those mis
chiefs and disturbances which follow upon erroneous doctrines, it
shall be requisite to take timely order for cutting off the means
and occasions of further spreading the infection thereof"1 ; which
are generally these two, either personal society or communication
of writings.
In a bodily contagion, we hold it not safe to suffer the sick per
sons to converse with the whole, but remove them to a pesthouse,
remote from the vicinity of others ; a practice which was also
commanded by God himself to his ancient people the Jews, in case
of their leprosy, which was equally, though not so deadly, in
fectious. Why should we not be so wise for the preservation of
souls from the plague of pernicious doctrines" ?
It is a true word, that of the Wise Man, He that toucheth
pitch shall be defiled therewith, Ecclus. xiii. 1 : no less truly
seconded by Tertullian : " Who doubts not," saith he, " but that
faith is continually blurred and defaced by the conversation of
1 Socr. 1. vii. c. 41. et antidotum.]
m Si serpat venenum, et non sequa- " Qui cum lupis est cum lupis ululat.
tur illico antidotum, &c. Bern. Ep. 158. Gerson.
[Si serpat venenum, nee sequatur pariter

Sect. XIX.] The Peacemaker. 643
infidels"? Neither is it much other that St. Paul fetches out of
the heathen poet MenanderP, and thereby makes canonical.
Most seasonable and needful therefore was that charge of Moses,
in the case of Korah's desperate mutiny, Get you up from about
the tabernacle qf Korah, Dathan, and Abiram. Depart, I pray
you, from the tents of these wicked men, and touch nothing qf
theirs, lest ye be consumed in all their sins, Num. xvi. 24, 26.
And the Chosen Vessel, to the same purpose, unto the Christians
under the Gospel, revives the like charge from Isaiah ; Come out
from among them, and be ye separate, and touch not the
unclean thing ; and I will receive you, 2 Cor. vi. 17; Isaiah
Iii. 1 1 q.
Out of the foreknowledge of this danger it was, that God gave
order for the riddance of the seven nations out of the Land of
Promise : They shall not dwell in thy land, lest they make thee
sin against me, Exod. xxiii. 33. And when, afterwards, it ap
peared that some of those forbidden people were still harboured
amongst his Jews, the charge is renewed by Joshua, Come not
among these nations that remain amongst you; neither make
mention ofthe name of their gods, Josh, xxiii. 7.
In imitation whereof, it hath been the wisdom of Christian
lawgivers not to allow the resiance of heretical persons within
their territories. Amongst the rest, that general, and, as it was
called, trabal law, was famous, which forbids all heretics, Arians,
Macedonians, and others, to convene or abide upon any part of
Roman ground r. And the godly church-governors of former
ages have herein not so much followed as led the way to this
just zeal of Christian emperors. The contestations of Athanasius
and Ambrose, in this kind, are better known, than that they need
any particular relations5. In all which, they approved themselves
such as they are called, good shepherds, by a seasonable separa
tion of the diseased and scabby sheep from the rest of their flock,
that they might escape a common infection.
Upon this ground it is, that both our laws and constitutions
o Quis enim dubitet obliterari quo- endi morandique habeant facultatem.
tidie fidem commercio infideli ? Tert. ad Ex Justmicmo Pamel. de Diversis Relig.
Uxorem. [Lib. ii. § 3.] non admittendis. c. 18.
i> 1 Cor. xv. 33. (pSdpovai, Sec. a Cum schismaticis nee secularis panis
1 Firma tutela salutis est scire quern debet esse communis, multo minus spi-
fugias ; periculosa res est hseresis, &c. ritualis. Cypr. 1. i. ep. 6. [cum quibus
Chrys. Horn. 19. in Matth. [Incert. Auct. nee terrestris cibus nee secularis potus
op. Chrys. Paris. 1724. t. vi. p. xciii.] debet esse communis. Ed. Fell. ep. 69.]

' Nusquam in Romano solo conveni-

T t 2

644 The Peacemaker.
have ever straitly inhibited the private convenings of many per
sons disaffected to the religion established* : who, by this means,
take the opportunity of diffusing their misopinions, to the woful dis
traction of the Church ; and to whet the edge of each other against
the received truth : the inconveniences whereof upon a liberty,
not given but taken, we have sufficiently felt, and can never suffi
ciently bewail.
Certainly, there is no less venom in error than in vice ; neither
are moral evils more dangerous and mortal than the intellectual.
What good magistrate can endure, that, according to the prophet's
complaint, men should assemble themselves by troops in the har
lots' houses? Jer. v. 7. Amongst the Abassins, although their
courtesans have public stipends from the common stock, yet they
are not allowed to come into their cities" ; so as those which
connive at their sin yet endure not their frequence. How can it
be less sinful or unsafe, for those who are defiled with their own
works, and go a whoring after their own inventions, to be suffered
to pack together the spiritual corruptions of themselves and many
thousands ?
Sect. XX. — Suppressing the second means of infection
by the press.
But there is nothing that hath so much power to poison the
world as the press ; which is able, in one day's warning, to scatter
an heresy over the whole face of the earth. In the times of our
forefathers, when every page and line was to pass the leisure and
pains of a single pen, books were geason; and, if offensive, could not
so easily light into many hands to work a speedy mischief. Error,
that could but creep then, doth now fly, and in a moment cuts the
air of several regions.
As we are therefore highly beholden to that witty citizen of
Mentzx for his invention of this nimble art of impression, where
by knowledge hath not been a httle propagated to the world ; so
we have reasons to rue the inconveniences that have followed
upon the abuse of this so beneficial a practice. For, as all men
are apt to write their own fancies, so they have, by this means,
' Nulla cum malis convivia vel collo- * Joan. Fust. Moguntinus civis, &c.
quia misceantur ; simusque ab iis tam non plumali canna neque aarea ; sed arte
separati, quam sunt illi ab [de] ecclesia quadam perpulchra, Petri manu, pueri
Dei profugi. Cypr. 1. i. [ep. 3. Ed. Fell, mei, &c. Subscriptum 1 ibro Tullii Ciccro-
ep- 59'] nis do Officiis, in Biblioth. Col. Emann-
u Pory's Introduct. to Leo Afric. clis, et ulibi.

Sect. XX.] The Peacemaker. 645
had opportunity to divulge their conceits to all eyes and ears :
whence it hath come to pass, that those monstrous opinions,
which had been fit only to be condemned to perpetual darkness,
have at once both visited and infected the public light, to the
infinite scandal of the Church and shame of the Gospel r. Never
age or nation hath had more cause to cry out of this mischief
than this of ours. I hold my hands from the particulars, that I
may not seem to accuse in a treatise of peace.
Our cunning adversaries may teach us wit in this behalf. What
devices have they had to prevent and avoid the danger of those
books which they either dislike or suspect ! What courses they have
taken for the prohibiting of those authors which they censure as
heretical, and for the expurging of those of their own whom they
dare not deface, I refer my reader to the painful and useful
observations of D.James2, who hath laboured above others in this
necessary subject. But I may not omit those cautions which their
wise jealousy hath prescribed, in this kind, over and besides his
notification. It is therefore decreed by thema; That the approbation
of any book to be published shall be given by the bishop of the
diocese ; and that an authentical copy of that book which is to be
printed, subscribed by the hand of the author, be left in the hand
of the licenser : that a book formerly published shall not be re
printed without a new license : that no book shall be printed
under the feigned name of any author b : that the purged book of
any censured author, if it be reprinted, shall bear in the front
the title of the author, and the note of his censure : that, in the
beginning of that book, mention shall be expressly made, both of
the prohibition of the old copy and the emendation of the newc :
that those which have prohibited books shall not be discharged by
burning them, but must necessarily bring them to their superiors.
Yea, so wary they are, in preventing all possibilities of peril, that
even the works of their own greatest champion. Cardinal Bellar
min, are not allowed a promiscuous sale and perusal, because they
do but relate, though with confutation, the opinions and argu
ments of the heretics'1. Yea, more than so, all translations of the
Council of Trent into French and other languages are perempto
rily forbidden6 : and all glosses, commentaries, annotations, and
y Quis non horreat profanas novitates V. Hbrorum editio.
et verborum et sensuum ? Bern. ep. 190. b Clem. VIII. ib. Gavant.
z [Bellum Papale, Lond. 1600. Auct. c Barbos. de Potest, ep. ib. Gavant.
Tho. James, Nov. Coll. Soc] d Sir Edwin Sandys's Relation.
a Pius IV. in Id. Regal. 10. Gavant. e Cong. Concil. 2 June 1629.

646 The Peacemaker.
scholies, upon the decrees of that Council, besides from those that
are deputed by the pope, are inhibited, under the pain of suspen
sion, to any prelate, whosoever shall presume to publish themf.
Yea, lastly, that which one would think should exceed all the
belief of a Christian, the very Bibles, set forth in vulgar tongues,
are so forbidden to be either read or kept in men's houses, that
neither the bishops nor inquisitors, nor the superiors of the regu
lars, can give any license to whatsoever person to that purposes :
neither may so much as the abridgments of the historical parts
of that sacred book be allowed11.
If they be thus cautious to forbid the best of books, for their
own advantage ; what a shame shall it be for us, to be so slack
and supine, as not to restrain the worst writings, to the infinite
disadvantage of the Gospel !
How happy then would it be for God's Church, if, by the
special and joint care of Christian princes and states, there might
be a general interdiction of this lawless licentiousness of the press;
and that, under the highest penalties, it might be confined to
none but necessary, safe, and orthodox discourse ! which till it be
effectually done, it is not possible but that schisms and heresies
must, at pleasure, dilate themselves ; to the corrupting of unstable
minds, and to the destruction of the common peace.
Sect. XXI. — The timely way of suppressing the means of infec
tion, which is the punishing of disturbers of the peace.
Thirdly, for the timely suppressing of spiritual quarrels, it is
most requisite for authority to punish the wilful disturbers of
peace. Such are those, in the first place, that will be sowing of strife
where none grows' ; whether by broaching new opinions, or de-
spitefully falling upon innocent and well-deserving persons.
Terpander was fined at Lacedsemon, for putting one string to
his harp more than was usualk ; and yet that, perhaps, made the
music better : how worthy are they to smart, that mar the har
mony of our peace by the discordous jars of their new and para-
f Pius IV. an. 1563. Tit. Cone. Trid. bably from recollection — Roma? 1667.
[Bull. Pii IV. Bin. torn. iv. p. 876.] p. 6.]
e Biblia vulgari lingua edita non h Neque compendia historica Bibli-
possunt legi, neque retineri ; neque orum. Gavant. v. Scriptura.
episcopi, neque inquisitores, neque regu- i Qui, ubi [si] nihil est litium, lites
larium superiores, dare queunt Ucen- serunt. Plant. [P.-enul. A. iii. Sc. 2. 9.]
tiam. Clem. VIII. in Ind. Prohib. k phit. Cust. of Lacedajmon. ['Ettitj?-
[Observ. ad Reg. IV. Synodi Trident. Su. Aaxaiv. § 17.]
Jussu edit. Ind. Lib. Proh. — quoted pro-

Sect. XXI.] The Peacemaker. 647
doxal conceits ! Serva depositum was the charge given to
Timothy, i Tim. vi. 20; and the prayer of the Church is, Renew
our days as of old, Lam. v. 21. If any Athenian spirit have a
mind to tell us of new doctrines, that the Church of God never
knew, I wish he may do it upon the same terms that the Thu-
rians of old ordained for the deviser of new laws, that is, with a
cord ready tied about his neck.
As new opinions broached are cause of much discord, so arc
also wrongful and calumnious aspersions cast upon the innocent.
A son of Belial, saith Solomon, diggeth up evil; and in his lips
there is a burning fire. A froward man soweth strife; and a
whisperer separateth chief friends, Prov. xvi. 27, 28 : and else
where, Where no wood is, there the fire goeth out; so where
there is no whisperer the strife ceaseth, Prov. xxvi. 20. Certainly ,
if lewd tongues be not curbed with wholesome laws and round
execution, it is in vain to hope for peace1. The best of men lie
ever the openest to the wickedest calumnies. How doth the man
after God's own heart cry out of the virulency of his slanderers !
how passionately doth he pray, Deliver my soul, 0 Lord, from
lying lip>s and from a deceitful tongue. What shall be given to
tJiee, or what shall be done to thee, thou false tongue ? Sharp
arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper, Ps. cxx. 2, 3, 4.
Holy Cyprian hath dung cast in his face by the name of Copri-
anus. Athanasius is no better than Sathanasius : would you
think that man, so worthy of immortality as his name justly im
ports, should pass for a sacrilegious person, a profane wretch, a
bloody persecutor, a blasphemer of God ? yet these are his titles
from his malicious opposites: whose resolution is, "As for Atha
nasius and Marcellus, who have impiously blasphemed against
God, and have lived as wicked miscreants, and are thereupon cast
out of the Church and condemned, we cannot receive them to the
honour of episcopacy"1." So as we may justly in their behalf
take up that complaint of Optatus" ; Episcopos linguce gladio
jugulastis ; fundentes sanguinem, non corporis, sed, honoris ;
that is, "Ye have slain your bishops with the sword of your
1 Jam autem ad scenam ipsam pro- scelerati vixerunt, expositos olim et
dimus, et cum impudicissimis ridemur. damnatos non possumus [iterum] in epi-
Greg. Naz. Orat. i. [ijSn Si irporjXBopev scopatus honorem, suscipere. 80 Episc.
kcu ptxP1 TVS aKrjvijs nal pera twv aae\- in Pseudo-Synod. Sardicensi [Bin. torn. i.
ytar&.TWV yc\uipe6a.} p. 451-]
m Nos Athanasium et Marcellum, n Optat. Milevit. 1. ii. [sub fin.]
qui in Dominum impie blasphemantes

648 The Peacemaker.
tongue ; spilling the blood, not of their body, but of their honour
and reputation." To this head must be referred those bitter and
infamous libels0 which are mutually cast abroad every day; even
by some who lay claim to a more strict Christianity ; deeply
wounding not more each other's fame than the public peace.
These evils cry aloud to authority for redress; without which,
what hope of peace ?
Sect. XXII. — Of the punishment of pertinacious maintainors
of dangerous errors.
In the second rank of disturbers of peace are those who do
nourish, foment, and abet the quarrels once raised, and pertina
ciously maintain those dangerous errors which they find set on
foot : for, indeed, it is not falseness of judgment that makes an
heretic, but perverseness of willP; neither is heresy any other
than an error in faith with obstinacy i. They are much mistaken
that slight the mistakings of the understanding, as no sins ; rather,
as that faculty hath more of the man than the other inferior, so
the aberrations of that must be more heinous. But if the will did
not concur to their further aggravation, in adhering to a falsity
once received, they might seem rather to pass, with God and good
men, for infirmities ; but the least falsehood justified proves odious
to both ; how much more in so precious a subject as religion !
The zeal of some old casuists carried them too far, in resolving
heresy to be such a crime as the seal of confession itself might not
privilege for concealment1. One of their laters said well, That he
wished that man might be turned salamander, to live perpetually
in the fire, that should reveal what was spoken to his ear out of
remorse of conscience.
But certainly it cannot be denied, that heresy, thus described,
is a grievous sin ; against that God who is truth and goodness
itself, and against that Church which he hath graciously espoused
to himself: but how far, and which way, to be proceeded against,
is a matter of deep and serious consideration.
For the determination whereof, 1 should think it necessary to
o Tractates <piktyicalpovcs. Hieron. P Non enim error de S. Scripturis, sed
[This is the reading of Erasmus, but et pertinax erroris defensio facit hsere-
ipiKeyicXhpovi is the reading in Epist. 126. ticum. Def. Fir. Staph.
Evagrio Antv. 1579. an(i ln 'he Bened. 1 Error in fide, cum pertinacia.
ed. where the Epistle is said to be ad- T Hseresis est crimen, quod nee con-
dressed to Evangelius. Paris. 1699. torn, fessio celat.
ii. p. 570.] s M. Vivald.

Sect. XXII.] The Peacemaker. 649
distinguish of heresy, whether mere or mixed. Mere heresy I
call that which is divested of other circumstances ; a sole error in
matter of faith stiffly resolved on, without any other concurrent
malignity : mixed, that, which is intermingled with other mis
chievous ingredients, as blasphemy, infectious divulgation, seditious
disturbance, malicious complottings, violent pursuit, treacherous
machinations, and the like.
The former, as it is a spiritual sin, so it is to be proceeded
against in a spiritual way. Brotherly admonishing must lead the
way: strong conviction must follow*: and in the failing of both
these, church censures must be sought to as the last refuge.
Bodily violences may have no place here, sith faith is to be per
suaded, not forced. Never any Christians, till the Roman Church,
in these latter times, offered to shed blood for mere errors of
opinion11. It is not for nothing that the Holy Ghost sets her
forth decked in purple and scarlet, Rev. xvii. 4, as foreseeing her
deep-dyed in the blood of innocents. Every of her trivial deter
minations must be matter of faith x ; and every resolute opposition
to matter of faith must be heresy ; and every heresy must be ex
piated with blood. 0, the ignorance or tepidity of the ancient
Fathers of the Church, which could never hit on this sure remedy
of error and vindication of truth? ! never had learned the true sense
of hcereticum devita, which is now revealed to wiser posterity !
In the mean time, since but the days of Thomas Arundel, then
archbishop of Canterbury, who kindled the first fire of this kind
within this kingdom2, what stacks have been spent every where
as the fuel of martyrdom ! It is proper for a cruel religion to live
upon blood3. For us, we will save whom we can ; but whom we
cannot, we will not kill : remembering what God said of old con
cerning the days of the gospel ; They shall not hurt nor destroy
in all my holy mountain : for the earth shall be full of the
knowledge of the Lord, Isa. xi. 9.
' Ut ubi interficiendi sunt errores, in- humana authoritas ad veritatem revo-
terficiuntur homines, &c. Muse. Loe. care nequit. Aug. ad Crescon.
Com. cap.de Hceres. [Basil'. 1599.P.611.] r Non de more orthodoxae Ecclesise,
u Thuan. Prooem. in Hist. [Epist. Nun- quae homines persequi non solet, &c.
cup.] — Sir Sim. Dewes's Primitive Prac- Socrat. 1. vii. c. 3.
tice. Sect. 5. [Lond. 1645. p. 6.] z Vide ib. Sir Sim. Dewes.
x Si divina lex persuadere non possit,
a  Temere sed tradere letho,
Non est Christigenum, fiirvi sed regis Averni.
Naogeorgus. Minus Celsus Senens. sect. 2. In Eferet. coercendis quatenus progredi
liceat, [1584. p. 97.]

650 The Peacemaker.
The latter of them hath no reason to be exempted from bodily
punishments ; no, not from the utmost of all pains, death itself1 :
as that which, besides its own intrinsical mischiefs, draws in with
it seven devils worse than itself. If it be luereticalis blasphemia,
as the casuists term it, it proclaims war against Heaven, and is
justly revenged by the sword of God's vicegerents upon earth. If
it be attended with schism, perturbances, seditions, malicious prac
tices, it tends to the setting of whole kingdoms on fire, and there
fore may be well worthy of a fagot. No man should smart for
erring ; but for seducing of souls, for embroiling of states, for
contemptuous violation of laws, for affronts of lawful authority, who
can pity him that suffers0 ? Certainly, there cannot be a greater
mercy to church or commonwealth, than by a seasonable correction
of offenders to prevent their ruind. It must be the regard to the
welfare and peace of the public that must regulate all proceedings
this way. I remember what Erasmus said concerning Luther :
" Surely," said he, " I had rather the man should be corrected
than destroyed ; but if they will needs make an end of him, whe
ther they had rather have him roast or boiled, I gainsay it not.
It is a light loss, that is of one single man ; but yet care must be
had of the public tranquillity e." Thus he, as supposing his anta
gonist erroneous enough ; yet not to be dealt with in extremity of "
rigour, out of the regard of the public safety f. And indeed this
consideration is it that must either hold our hands or move them.
Even in spiritual matters, as well as civil, that rule is eternal, Salus
populi suprema lexS.
Thus then, to recollect our discourse ; If authority shall timely
labour, by fair means, to reclaim the broachers of new and sin
gular opinions : if it shall be careful to cut off the occasions of
further spreading the infection arising therefrom ; whether the
society of the infected, or the divulgation of their writings: if,
lastly, it shall be prudently impartial in punishing wilful disturbers
of the peace ; whether those that sow strifes where none are, by
b Ha^retici corrigendi, ne pereant ; ne cunctis et nulli. Jos. I scan, de Bello
perimant coercendi. Bern, de Consid. Trojano. 1. i.
lib. iii. c. i. e Certe correctum hominem mallem
c Pertinaciter errantes, et alios secum quam extinctum, &c. Eras. A lex. Secre-
in errorem abducere inque erroribus re- tario Comitis Nassorici. [lib. xxx. ep. 13.
tinere contendentes, blasphemi, et per- Lond. 1642.]
turbatores, imo subversores ecclesiarum, f Virga ovem, baculo lupum. Bern.
jure ca^di possunt. Bulling, dec. 2. Sentent.
ser. viii. Min. Cels. sect. 2. [p. 121.] s The people's safety is the highest
J Pariter crudelis uterque, qui parcit law.

Sect. XXIII.] The Peacemaker. 651
venting new and offensive paradoxes, by raising unjust slanders
upon the innocent ; or those that foment and abet the strife once
raised ; especially those that pertinaciously stand upon the main
tenance of gross errors ; it shall have taken a ready course for
checking the first motions, and suppressing the beginnings of
quarrels. Sect. XXIII. — The second public means qf peace: order for
sure grounds to be laid by catechising.
In the second place, it shall much conduce to the keeping of
pubhc peace, and the prevention of the dangers of the breach
thereof by exorbitant doctrines, if order be taken by authority,
that sure grounds of religion be laid in the hearts of God's
people. It was the observation of that wise and learned king James, of
blessed memory, whose judgment and knowledge in matter of di
vinity surpassed all the princes in the Christian world that history
hath recommended to us ; that the reason why so many of ours
were perverted to popish superstition was, for that the people
were not well grounded by due catechising in the principles of
Christian religion ; and, truly, this I learned in my attendance,
amongst many other lessons, from that incomparable prince, that
there is no employment in the world wherein God's ministers can
so profitably bestow themselves as in this of plain and familiar
catechising. What is a building without a foundation? If this
groundwork therefore be not surely laid, all their divine discourses,
for such their sermons are, lie but upon the loose sand, and are
easily washed away by the insinuative suggestions of false teachers.
A man that is well grounded in the doctrine of the first com
mandment, knows that he must reserve all divine honour, trust,
devotion, to his God alone, and that he may not cast any part of
it away upon the creature. How can such an one choose but
cast a scornful smile upon a Romish seducer, that shall tell him,
that by virtue of this precept, he is to be a devout client to the
saints, and especially to the blessed Virgin Mary, and to his angel-
guardian, as Jo. Gerson hath confidently taught ush ?
He that is well grounded in the doctrine of the second com
mandment, how can he but abhor the bodily representations of
the blessed Trinity, and spit at Aquinas for teaching that the
image is to be adored with the same worship that is due to the
h Jo. Gerson. de Prsecept. Decal. c. 5.

652 The Peacemaker.
archetype? How must he needs bless himself at the strange
collection of a Valentia, because St. Peter cries out of abominable
idolatries, that therefore there are some idolatries under the
Gospel not abominable ! And when he finds all human devices,
which can be obtruded upon Christians as parts of God's worship,
justly damned in that law, how can he choose but cry out with
holy Cyprian, Quoz ista obstinatio, &c. " What obstinacy, what
presumption is this, to prefer human traditions before God's own
ordinance1!" He that is thoroughly instructed in the doctrine of the third
commandment, and hath learned to tremble at the sacred name
of the Almighty, how can he digest those graceless decisions of
some Roman casuists k, that frequent swearing and cursing, if it
be out of custom, is but venial ; that it is lawful to equivocate in
our oaths ; that the solemn oaths of fealty may be dispensed with;
that the dreadful name of God may be used in the unwarrantable
exorcisation of the creatures ; that our invocations upon God do
not necessarily require understanding or devotion ?
How can he that is thoroughly informed of the will of God in
the fourth commandment be induced to prefer a man's day to
God's ? to slight that evangelical sabbath, the legal pattern
whereof had wont to be so sacred ? The Jewish doctors esteemed
their sabbath the queen of feasts, and all the other festivals but
as her handmaids : who that is well instructed can abide that the
maid should take the wall of her mistress ? or would endure to
hear of a pope Silvester1, that durst presume to alter the day,
decreeing that Thursday should be kept for the Lord's day
through the whole year, because on that day Christ ascended
into heaven, and on that day instituted the blessed sacrament of
his body and blood ?
How can he that hath well learned the fifth commandment
digest that hard morsel of Rome"1, that the pope hath power to
absolve subjects from their lawful allegiance to their sovereign ;
that he hath power to depose kings at pleasure ; that he can arm
' Quas ista obstinatio est, qua?ve tonio et Petro de Natalibus. [Hosp. de
prassumptio, humanam traditionem di- Orig. Fest. Christ, c. viii. p. 24. Tig.
vinse dispositioni anteponere! Cyp. ad 1593.]
Pompeium contr. Epist. Stephani. [Paris. m Papa potest deponere Regem, si
1726. Ep. 74.] est effeminates, i. si multum sequatur
11 Rodriquez. Cas. Consc. [Pars i. c. mulieres. Rcpertorium Panormitani, a
191.] Do. de Montalvo V. Papa.
1 Hospinian. de Festis Christ, ex An-

Sect. XXIV.] The Peacemaker. 653
a subject with power to murder his king ; that children may dis
pose of themselves into religious orders without or against the
will of their parents ?
How can he that knows what belongs to the sixth command
ment but abhor to think of the streams of blood that have been shed
upon pretence of religion ; to recall the slaughters of Merindol
andCabriers, the massacres of France, the powder-plot of England,
the late Irish cruelties, and the subornations of the bloody as
sassinates of kings and princes ?
How can he who hath been taught the exact rule of chastity
in the seventh commandment but hate to hear of the public tole
ration of stews, and of fornication in some cases less faulty than
honest matrimony?
The like may be said of the rest of the precepts of the royal law
of the Almighty, which is the most perfect rule of our obedience.
And as for matter of belief, were the foundation surely laid of
the doctrines of faith, contained in the Apostolic, Nicene, Athana-
sian Creeds, and of the doctrine of the sacraments briefly comprised
in our publicly allowed Catechism ; I see no reason but to think
our people so sufficiently defenced against the danger of error,
that no heretical machinations could be able to batter or under
mine them.
And surely if ever there were or can be time wherein the
necessity of this duty of catechising were fit to be enforced, it is
this upon which we are fallen ; when the souls of Christian people
are so hard laid at, not only by Popery, Anabaptism, Antinomi-
anism, Pelagianism, but by the confounding and hellish heresies
of Socinianism, Antitrinitarianism, Ne-arianism; prodigious mis
chiefs, tending not only to the disturbance of our peace, but to
the utter destruction of Christianity ; when we may truly say to
every soul, upon the letting loose of Satan, as Simeon said to his
pillars before the earthquake, "Stand fast, for ye shall be shaken."
Shortly, if this duty be neglected, we may preach our lungs out,
if we will, but with little effect. When we have spent all our
wind upon the ears of our people, their hearts will be still apt to
be carried away with every wind of doctrine, Eph. iv. 14.
Sect. XXIV. — The third public way of peace: means ap
pointed for strong conviction of error.
Nothing can so much break the Church's peace as error.
This is indeed that hellish monster which the herculean power

654 The Peacemaker.
of authority, both spiritual and civil, must serve both to conflict
and subdue.
But this infernal brood yields much variety.
There are errors so gross and foul, that in a consciousness of
their own deformity they have hid their heads, and withdrawn
themselves from that light which is as hateful to them as they
are to it. The foolish Jews n, when they saw Mahomet arising
in such power, they were straight ready to cry him up for their
Messiah ; but when they saw him eat of a camel, (Lev. xi. 4,)
they were as blank as when they saw the hoped issue of their
late Jewish virgin turned to a daughter. So blockish was that
error of the Anthropomorphites ° of old : though I know not
whether in some sort refurbished by Conradus Vorstius P. Such
was that of the Patripassiani, whom Alamundarus, the king of
the Agarens, though but a new convert to Christianity, made
ashamed of themselves 1 : that witty prince made himself very
sad and pensive : being by some of those heretics asked the
reason of that his heaviness, he told them that he heard that
Michael the archangel was dead ; and when they cheered him
up, assuring him that an angel, being a spirit, could not die, he
chokingly replies, "How then are you so foohsh to think that
the Father and God of spirits, the Deity itself, could be capable
of death ? " Such was that of the Charinzarii, who, in the other
extreme, held one whole person of Christ suffering, while the
other person looked on, and celebrated the memory of their
Sergius's dog, Arzibur, with an yearly fasf. Such was the
exploded heresy of that madman, who held all heresies truth.
But there are errors, and those are most dangerous, so cun
ningly contrived by the subtlety of Satan, so countenanced with
show of reason and antiquity, and so overlaid with colour of
Scripture authority, that a wise man might easily mistake them
for truths.
It must be, therefore, the care of sovereign power, in order to
the public peace, to make provision, in the third place, that there
may be means of a strong and irrefragable conviction of error.
Which shall be done, if there be a designation and encourage
ment of able men wholly set apart for polemical studies. For
n Eutrop. Hist. 1. xviii. [There is Hao-es. 1. i. § 52. Colon. 1605, p.
obviously some error here.] 41.]
o Accused by Epiphanius of simple- P[Anti-Bellarm.Hanov. 1610, p. 499.]
ness and rusticity. [L. iii. ci.de 1 Forcatulus.
Schism. Audianorum Prateol. Elench. * Ibid. Prateol, 1. iii. 15. [p. 128.]

Sect. XXIV.] The Peacemaker. 655
this part of divinity requires more than a piece of a man ; and it
is not to be expected, however our age have yielded some happy
in this kind, that those who wholly addict themselves, according
to the exigence of that calling, to the study and practice of
popular divinity, should attain to the perfection of controversory.
The combination of some such select heads might be infinitely
serviceable to God's Church.
It is great pity, therefore, that the late Chelsian project was
suffered to fall to the ground s; whereof had not that judicious
king, of blessed memory, seen that very great use might have
been made, he had not condescended to so gracious privileges
as his majesty was pleased to enrich it withal. That wise and
learned prince well observed, how great an advantage our ad
versaries have of us in this kind ; who come upon us with con
joined forces, while we stand upon single resistances * ; and
therefore, without a marvellous providence of the Almighty,
might have verified the old word, Dum singuli pugnant, uni-
versi vincuntur.
Blessed be God, the world hath had ample proofs of the false
hood of that calumny of Erasmus, which he casts upon our pro
fession, in his epistle to Bilibaldus : Ubicunque regnat Lutherus ;
" Wheresoever Luther reigns," saith he, " there straight follows
the destruction of all learning ; for there is nothing that they
seek for but a living and a wife u." Could he have lived to these
days, very shame would have crammed those words down his
throat, and would have forced him to confess, that eminence of
learning and zeal of reformed religion can well live and flourish
together ; he should have seen and heard such learned advocates
plead for the protestant profession, that his ingenuity could not
choose but yield them the advantage of the bar.
But if these heads and hands have been so powerful alone,
what would they have done united together ? Certainly none of
these upstart prodigious heresies could stand before them, nor
breathe so long under their hands, as to work a disturbance to
the Church's peace.
But if we may not be so happy as to see such a sure course
established for the preservation of truth and peace, it will be
8 [The original design and purpose of u Ubicunque regnat Lutherus [Lu-
Chelsea Hospital are well known.] theranismus], ibi literarum est inte-
1 Corcordia[m] simul juncta[m] vinci rites : duo tantum qua3runt, Censum
[omnino] non potest [posse]. Cypr. Corn, et Uxorem. Eras. Bilib. [L. xix. Ep.
Fratri. [Ep. 57. Paris. 1726.] 5°-]

656 The Peacemaker.
requisite yet, that order be taken, that none may be allowed to
enter into the lists, to maintain the combat with heretical se
ducers, but those which are approved for able champions ; for
certainly there cannot be a greater advantage to the prevalence
of error than a weak oppugnation. I remember St. Augustin
professes this was it that heartened him, and made him to triumph
in his former Manicheism, that he met with feeble opponents,
and such as his nimble wit was easily able to overturn. When
therefore any bold challenger shall step forth, and cast down his
gauntlet in defiance of truth, it is fit he be encountered with an
assailant that hath brawn in his arms and marrow in his bones ;
not with some weak and wearish combatant, whose heart may be
as good as his hand is feeble, that shall thereupon betray the
better cause with an impotent managing. It is true, that the
power of God manifests itself many times in our weakness, and
doth great matters by the smallest means ; but it is not for us to
put God upon miracles. .As in all other occasions, so in this, we
must be careful to make use of the best helps, and then look up
to Heaven for a blessing. May this be done, the victory over
error shall be the settlement of peace.
Sect. XXV. — The fourth public way of peace : imposition of
silence in some cases, both upon pulpits and presses.
But the most available and surest of all the public ways of
peace is, in some cases, an imposition of silence upon both the
parties contending.
For the making good whereof, it must be laid down for an
unfailing ground,
i . That all truths are not fit to be at all times urged. There
C1
can be no time wherein it can be warrantable to deny a truth,
but there may fall times wherein some truth need not be pressed.
Our blessed Saviour, who was the true light that enlighteneth
every one that cometh into the world, could have irradiated his
disciples at once with the perfect knowledge of all things ; but,
as it was his will only to measure them out then- meet stint of
spiritual understanding, so he thought fit to impart it to them by
degrees, plainly professing, i" have many things yet to say unto
you, but ye cannot bear them now, John xvi. 1 2 ; and there is
the same reason of not revealing truths and not enforcing them.
The great apostle of the Gentiles hath taught us the necessary
distinction of doctrines, that some are meat and some are milk •

Sect. XXV.] The Peacemaker. 657
and himself was careful to observe it : And I, brethren, saith he,
could not speak to you, as unto spiritual, but as to carnal men,
even as unto babes in Christ : I have fed you with milk, and
not with meat; for hitherto ye were not able to bear it, neither
yet now are ye able, i Cor. iii. i, 2. His practice is our in
struction. What should a sucking child do with a knife and a
trencher ? Doubtless, then, all truths are not for all times, for
all persons.
2. It must be yielded, that the occasion of the infinite questions
and controversies in religion is the scarce finite subdivisions of
points of divinity into those numberless atoms of disquisitions
whereinto curious heads have minced it. Truth, when it is in a
lump, is carried away with ease, but when it is cut in a thousand
pieces, it is not easily set together ; some parcels may perhaps
be missing, others disordered.
It was the observation of learned Erasmus long ago, now
seconded with too much experience, that this multiplication of
school points is it that hath rendered divinity so perplexed, and
the Church so unquiet.
Now then, the remedy must tread in the same steps with the
disease. As, therefore, it might make much to the universal
peace of God's Church, that positive divinity should be generally
reduced to that primitive simplicity wherein it was presented to
the Christians of the first and purest times ; so it might greatly
conduce to the peace of particular churches, that where litigious
questions arise with fair probabilities on both parts, and sides are
taken, and the rent not to be sewed up by any satisfactory deci
sion, then and there the mouth of altercation should be stopped
with a straitly enjoined silence ; let that truth sleep quietly, on
whether side soever it hes. Or if the difference of opinion be so
general that it cannot be kept in, that an adiaphorous act, as of
old, be decreed for a mutual indemnity, that neither part might
censure or condemn other for their diversity of judgment. Both
these practices for peace we might learn of our wise adversaries
that guide the helm of the Roman Church.
Much stir there was in their schools, now in this present age,
about the efficacy of preventing grace depending or not depend
ing on man's free will. Their doctors took parts ; the quarrel
grew hot ; the business was devolved to the determination of
pope Clement VIII; for five years together the case was every
day disputed ; the issue was, that oracle of the chair decreed
BP. IIALL, VOL. VI. U U

658 The Peacemaker.
that it should be free for both parts to hold to their own tenet,
without censuring either side of error or temerity. So for the
time the quarrel ceased x. But when, soon after, the doctors of
either school, striving too eagerly for the maintenance of their
own opinion, brake forth into distemper, it was out of due regard
to peace straitly commanded, that no doctor on either part should
publish any writing whatsoever, in which the agreement of effica
cious grace and freewill should be so much as argued Y. " So,"
saith my author, " that decertation was shut up," congruentissimo
silentio, " in a most meet silence z." Although what agitations
there have been since of this question, and what endeavours of
their acute Francisus de Arriba a to salve up the matter by new
distinctions, it is not now seasonable for us to relate.
But far more coil there hath been both in schools and church,
within some late centuries of years, concerning the sinless con
ception of the blessed Virgin ; about which, what vehement dimi-
cations there have been between the Franciscans and Dominicans,
the world too well knows. Aquinas and his followers, more in
genuous authors, are for the one partb ; the Council of Basil and
the greater number of schoolmen for the other ; defending, in an
impious flattery of that holy and blessed mother of our Lord, that,
by the singular grace of the Almighty, she was so kept, that she
was never actually under original sin, but was always free from
all fault both original and actual. The Dominicans, finding them
selves galled with this unjust determination, fly upon that council,
and plainly say it hatched a cockatrice c. The matter came so
high as to blood ; for some of the Dominicans fried at a stake, for
the bold opposition to this misconceived privilege of the holy and
immaculate Virgin"1. Pope Sixtus the IVth, perceiving what dan
ger and mischief might follow upon this division, decrees, though
31 Placuit sanctiss. permittere omnibus XV. Pontif. Max. [Specul. Theol. Li.
unius vel alterius scholae assertum tenere c. 5. Paris 1623.]
et defendere ; jussumque est, ne deinceps b Gloriosam Virg. Dei genitricem Ma-
aut istam aut illam sententiam erroris riam, pneveniente et operante divini
vel temeritatis censura notaret, &c. numinis gratia singulari, nunquam ac-
Sicque tunc contentiosa? istse disputa- tualiter subjacuisse originali peccato ; sed
tiones cessaverunt. immunem semper fuisse ab omni origi-
y Praceptuni est intuitu pacis, &c. ne nali et actuali culpa, &c. Concil. Basil.
alicujus doctoris opus pfelo mandaret, sess. 36. [Bin. torn. iv. p. 80,]
&<>• c Perperisse basilis'cum. Anton, cit. Jo.
1 Sicque decertatio ilia determinata Major. Chamier, 1. iv. c. 14. de Virgine.]
est congruentissimo silentio. d Chamier de Peccato Orig. torn. iii.
" Franc.de Arriba Reginas Christianis, 1. 5. ex Nicol. Baselio. [lib. iv. c.14. de
a Confessionibus ad B. P. D. Gregorium Virgine.]

Sect. XXVI.] The Peacemaker. 659
not without secret favour to the Franciscans, of whose order he
was, that the question should be left free to either part, as that
which was not decided by the church and see apostolice : and the
Council of Trent professes to second the observation of that con
stitution of Sixtus, under the penalties therein containedf : so as
now Greg, de Valentia concludes, that neither opinion is found to
be matter of faith, and that whoever takes either side ought not
to be taken for an heretic, or held to offend mortally in the
temerity of his opinion.
Besides, some experience our own times have yielded us at
home of the singular benefit of this course. It is not long since
our Church began to be sick of the Belgic disease ; I mean the
distemper arising from the difference about the five controverted
articles of the Netherlands. The pulpits and presses laboured of it
in much extremity : it pleased wise and judicious sovereignty, upon
knowledge of the woful effects which had followed those unhappy
controversies abroad, to give charge that those questions should
not be further stirred in, whether in sermons or writings ; and the
Articles of the Church of England should be the just limits of all
our public discourse in this kind. And what a calm followed
upon this prudent declaration our fresh memory can abundantly
testify. Were the like order taken in other questions of less importance
at the present time, men's hearts would be at more ease, and the
Church less disquieted.
To draw up all therefore to a head: if, by the power of au
thority, the beginnings of quarrels may be suppressed, if sure
grounds of instruction may be laid in the hearts of God's people ;
if powerful convictions may be used to the refractory, and none
but able opponents suffered to be employed in the vindication of
truth ; if, in meet cases, silence may be imposed upon pulpits and
presses, we shall have reason to hope for a happy success of these
public means of peace.
Sect. XXVI. — A motive to peace from the miseries of discord.
Now that all both private and public agents may be stirred up
to do their utmost endeavours to the making and preservation of
peace, it shall be requisite for us to bend our eyes seriously upon
e Sixt. IV. in extravag. Grave nimis f Decret. Trid. Sess. 5. [Bin. torn. iv.
de Reliq. et vener. sanct. [Bin. torn. iv. p. 804.]
p. 516.]
U U 2

660 The Peacemaker.
the miseries of spiritual discord : which indeed are so great and
many, as no mortal pen is able to express.
Some image whereof we see, and lament to see, in the civil.
Woe is me, what a sad spectacle it is to see towns and cities
flaming ; to see the channels running with blood, the fields strewed
with carcasses of men and horses mingled in blood ; to see the
hellish fury of a military storm, those clambering up to assail,
these tumbling down in assailing ; to see the deadly grenadoes
fly with fire in their mouths ; and to see and hear the horror of
their alighting ; to hear the infernal thunder of mines blowing up,
the roaring of cannons, the relating of drums, the hoarse noise of
trumpets ; to hear the shrieks of women and children, the groans
of the dying, the killing noise of the murderers ; shortly, to see
and hear the astonishing confusion of every soul engaged either
way in that violent destruction !
Truly, as the story e says of Gensericus and his Vandals in
Africk, that they made more waste by fire of the houses of prayer
than of towns and cities ; so may I say in general of all the in
struments of spiritual violence, that they do more scathe to the
Church of God, than the bodily agents in an outward and visible
war can do to the commonwealth.
This mischief is less sensible, but more pernicious. What is the
body to the soul ? What is this material fire (a mere accension of
air) to that of hell ? What is the temporal death to an eternal ?
It is a woful case which Optatus speaks of in that schism of the
Donatists, Inter licet vestrum &c. ; " You say it is lawful ; we say
it is unlawful : betwixt both, Christian souls are staggered and
tossed, and cannot find where to settle11."
And rather worse is that which Chrysostom bemoans to Inno-
centius ; Ecclesiai usque ad genua humilitatce, populi dispersi,
clerus divexatus, episcopi exules, constitutiones patrum violates ;
"The churches," saith he, "are brought down upon their knees,
the people scattered, the clergy vexed, the bishops banished, the
constitutions of the Fathers violated'."
But far beyond this yet was that of the Circumcellions, re
ported by Possidoniusk, in pursuance of their Donatism, who ex
ercised horrible cruelties upon the orthodox part ; killing some,
e Vict. Persec. Afric. 1. i. ' Chrys. Innocentio. [inrcp iKK\n(riuv
h Optat. Milevit. lib. v. " Inter licet eh yivv KarevexBturwv, &c. Ep. ad Iunoc.
vestrum et non licet nostrum, nutant et Paris. 1721. torn. iii. p. 522.]
remigant animse Christiana? [populo- k Possidon. in Vita August. [Possi-
rum], &c." dius de Vit. Aug. t. v. c. 10. Par. 1586.]

Sect. XXVI.] The Peacemaker. 661
torturing others ; blowing lime and vinegar into the eyes of God's
ministers, and tearing off the breasts of women with pincers.
Yet all these are but fleabitings in comparison of the rage of
Roman persecution. Who can without horror think of the bloody
butcheries of the Inquisition ; the daily bonfires made of the bodies
of God's saints ; the secret massacres ; the open wars that have
been and are raised upon these" spiritual quarrels ? so true is that
observation of Gerson ', that there is none so implacable a division
as that which goes under pretence of religion.
Surely it is no marvel, that as our mycologists tell us of old,
Discord took it ill that she was not called to the banquet of the
celestial powers, but shut out of the doors of Heaven ; certainly
she is fit company for none but the furies of hell : indeed, it is she
that makes them such ; yea, she only it is that turns earth into
hell, and, as it were, reduces the world to the first chaos.
Well were it for us if our own sense did not represent too much
of this truth to us. What need we any monitor to tell us how
miserable we are ? rather it is fit we should be put in mind of that
grave and godly advice which holy Chrysostom gives to Innocen-
tius, Non satis est plangere, &c, " It is not enough for us to be
wail the breaches of the Church, but we had need to make use of
our best care and most serious consideration, by what means and
by what seasonable council this grievous tempest of the Church may
be allayed™." 0, how happy were it, if we would all bend our best
thoughts and improve our utmost endeavours to this end I
And as there is no Christian that may be exempt from this
duty, sith every one hath some freight in this common bottom ; so
doth it most of all lie upon God's ministers, who by their calling
should be the counsellors and ambassadors of peace, Prov. xii. 20 ;
Isaiah xxxiii. 7 ; 2 Cor. v. 20, according to that of Marcellinus,
Quid tarn, &c, "What can be so agreeable to the rules of religion,
as that the ministers of God, whose office it is to bring the tidings
of peace to others, should keep the peace among themselves11 ?"
It is true, there is a war wherein they are and must be engaged,
bellum contra vitia, " a war against wickedness :" not only as the
heralds of the Almighty, to denounce judgments ; but, as St. Paul
styles them, as good soldiers of Jesus Christ, 2 Tim. ii. 3, to beat
1 Jo. Gerson de Schismate, &c. nocent. [torn. iii. p. 515.]
m Non satis est plangere ; sed opus n Quid tam religiosis conveniens insti-
est etiam ut cura geratur, et spectetur tutis, quam ut inter se sacerdotes pacem
qua ratione, quove concilio, gravissima quam necesse est aliis annunciare, con-
Ecclesise tempestas sedetur. Chrys. In- servent ? Marcel, p. Ep. 2.

662 The Peacemaker.
down sin both in themselves and in others. The weapons of this
warfare are spiritual, and such is the warfare itself. How far it is
fit for them to have their hand in a bodily and external warfare,
according to the example of worthy Zuinglius, whom CEcolampadius
defends and excuses0, and of the most learned Chamier, who
were both unhappily slain in arms, here is no place to argue.
Sure I am, that as their embassy is the gospel of peace, Rom. x. 15,
Eph. vi. 15, so their main employment should be the making of
peace betwixt God and men, betwixt men and men, both in spi
ritual and civil occasions ; and if there be any, who, instead of
lifting up their voice like a trumpet, to shew God's people their
transgressions, and the house of Jacob their sins, Is. lviii. 1, shall
make themselves on either part the trumpets of war and blood
shed, let them see, as the prophet Gad said, what answer they
will return to Him that sent them, 2 Sam. xxiv. 13.
Doubtless our main errand to the world is peace, and woe be to
us if we do it not ! but in vain shall we pretend to carry that
which we have not, to carry peace unto others when we have
none amongst ourselves, to make that abroad which we want at
home. It was the charge of our Saviour to his disciples, but
especially to the twelve, who had a little before quarrelled for
precedency. Have peace one with another, Mark ix. 50, as well
knowing their either peace or enmity to be a leading case.
Woe is me for the divisions of Reuben ! but more for the great
thoughts of heart that follow them, Judges v. 15. For may we
not too truly say, as Chrysostom said of all evils in general, that
all our miseries have begun from the sanctuary ? While the cap
tains fight, how can the common soldiers stand still ? Hold your
hands, for God's sake, and for the Church's sake, O all ye who
are the spiritual leaders of God's people. Give me leave to say
to you, as Luther to the Helvetians, in the sacramentary quarrel,
Satis jam altercatum et clamatum est, " We have had altercation
and clamour enough : if any good might have been done by cla
mour and altercation, we have suffered on both parts more than
enoughP." 0 that we could at last now entertain that gracious
and obsecratory charge of the blessed apostle of the Gentiles, Now
I beseech you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ,
0 In Helvetiis non est novum, ut cum est : si quid modo altercando et clamando
signis pracipuis egrediantur etiam primi potuit profici. Luth. Resp. ad Confess.
sacerdotes, etiam armati, &c. (Ecolamp. Basil, ab Helvct. declaratum. Jo. Jeslerus
Martina Frechto. dc Belli Eucharistici Diutur.
P Satis jam altercatum et clamatum

Sect. XXVI.] The Peacemaker. 663
that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions
among you; but that ye be perfectly joined together in the same
mind and in the same judgment, i Cor. i. 10.
But if it cannot he hoped for in this distraction of opinion,
that we should meet in the same mind and judgment, yet let us
endeavour to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace,
Eph. iv. 3. Let not the differences of opinion beget alienation of
affections. Let not the heat of boisterous affections break forth
into public and mortal concertations. For, as Nazianzen 1 wisely
presseth to the synod of Constantinople, what can be more absurd,
than that we, declining the darts of our enemies, should fall into
mutual incursions one upon another, and thereby waste our own
forces, and make sport to our adversaries ?
Is it not to us that the apostle speaks under the name of his
Galatians, If ye bite and devour one another, take heed lest ye
be consumed one of another? Gal. v. 15. What Christians were
ever more palpably guilty of this cruelty ? How are we come from
snarling to biting, from biting to worrying each other ! What
means this deadly rage amongst those that profess the dear name
of one Saviour, and that call one Church mother ? Let us look
upon brute beasts and blush : Parcit cognatis maculis1 : whoever
saw a lion or a tiger fall upon one of his own kind ? Even savage
bears agree well together ; yea, which is the observation of our
Bromyard8, where a whole legion of evil spirits lodged in one
man, yet they fell not out. And why will we, who are brethren,
do the work of enemies ?
I know every one of us will plead a defence of truth ; but is it
such a truth as is worth bleeding for ? I have learned from good
authority, that of old, by the common law of England, it was felony
of death to kill a man se defendendo*; however, the rigour of that
law is since mitigated ; and even still, it is required that our heels,
if possible, should prevent the use of our hands. The rule of our
casuists upon assaults is still, cum moderamine inculpate tutelte :
"With the management of a harmless defence." Were this duly
1 Quid enim absurdius, &c. Greg, rav &pri rav irohepiKwv anaWayevras
Naz. ad Synod. Constantimop. apud /3e\Zv a\\-h.\ovs fidWetv Kal t^v oltcelav
Theod. 1. V. c. 8. [Tav yap Xtav aronari,- avaXlaxtiv «rx<W]
r  parcit
Cognatis maculis similis fera : quando leoni
Fortior eripuit vitam leo  Jnven. Sat. xv. 1 59.
" Brom. v. Discordia. * Dalton, p. 244.

664 The Peacemaker.
observed both for our tongues and pens, how quiet, how happy
were the now distracted Church of God !
Certainly God abides none but charitable dissensions ; those
that are well grounded and well governed, grounded upon just
causes and governed with Christian charity and wise moderation ;
those whose beginning is equity, and whose end is peace. If we
must differ, let these be the conditions. Let every of God's
ministers be ambitious of that praise which Gregory Nazianzen
gives to Athanasius", to be an adamant to them that strike him:
and a loadstone to those that 'dissent from him: the one, not to
be moved with wrongs ; the other, to draw those hearts which
disagree. So, the fruit of righteousness shall be sown in peace
of them that make peace, James iii. 18. So the God of peace shall
have glory, the Church of God rest, and our souls unspeakable
consolation and joy in the day of the appearing of our Lord Jesus.
To whom with the Father and the Holy Ghost, one infinite and
incomprehensible God, be all praise, honour, and glory, now and
for ever. Amen.
u Greg. Naz. Orat. 21. [ylverai yap rots iralovaiv aSapxis, &c. Paris. 1630. torn. i.
p. 392-]

END OF VOL. VI.

YALE UNIVERSITY

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