The Christian Warfare Part 2

CHAP. XXII.

Of the manifold miseries which do accompany worldly vanities, in the whole course of man's life.

ANd thus have I shown the vanity and unprofitableness of these worldly things, which were sufficient to wean our hearts from them, though there were no other reasons: for who would affect these worthless vanities, which neither satisfy, nor profit those that have them? But though it should be granted, that they were not thus vain, but in their own nature of some worth; say that in themselves they were profitable, and therefore to be desired; yet let us further know, that they are so mingled with miseries, and so distasted with the bitterness of adherent evils, as that there is no reason why we should much esteem them, or set our hearts upon them: for let us put into the one scole, those things that we think worthy the name of good, which is to be desired; and into the other, the miseries, evils, inconveniences, and discontentments which always do accompany them; and we shall find that there is no proportion, between the huge heap of the one, and the little grain of the other, between the ocean of misery, and small drop of true delight and happiness. It is true that this notable hypocrite the world is always ready to deceive us, by promising unto us excellent benefits, and things sincerely good, without the mixture of any evil; but when it cometh to performance, behold it tempereth a dram of honey with a pound of gall; it promiseth all good, but it payeth us with evil, or at least mixeth it with so little good, that it serveth but to give us a more quick taste and true relish of these evils which accompany it: it promiseth life and payeth death; it proffereth joy, but behold it giveth sorrow; and commonly if we have but one good meal of delight and comfort, we must walk in the strength thereof many days, and having nothing to seed upon but trouble and discontent, lose all that former pleasure many times over, with griefs and crosses, before our comforts be again renewed. And thus doth y ^e world, like a stately built sepulcher, make unto us outwardly a goodly show, though there be nothing within but rottenness and putrefaction; and like a subtle merchant, it offereth us a good sample of bad wares, and outwardly presenteth to our view the best end of the stuff, whereas the inmost and middle parts are course and slight; and placeth the purest and choicest commodities in the upper part of the vessel, whereas in the middle and the bottom, it is mixed, counterfeit, and purposely falsified to deceive us. Neither in truth is it more apt to deceive, then we to be deceived; for as those who are borne in a mill are so well acquainted with noise, that it little disquieteth them; and as they who are bred and brought up in a prison, are not much troubled with their restraint, nor offended with their little light, not grieved to carry their gives and bolts; yea contrariwise, when their irons are but a little lightened, they are comforted and refreshed, as though they were set at liberty, and think a little bettering of their scant & hungry meals, a great feast and dainty banquet: whereas those who have been brought up in great plenty and full liberty, sorrow at the others joys, and are tormented with grief, in the midst of their wretched comforts. So because we are from the first moment of our birth brought up and inured to this noise of miseries; because we had our first being, and breeding in this wretched prison of the world, we are ready to love and rejoice in our little enlarged imprisonment, as though we had attained unto perfect liberty, and to account our least miseries our greatest happiness: whereas if either with our first parents we had ever tasted of the joys of Paradise, or had but only in vision with the blessed Apostle, the least glimpse of our heavenly glory, the worlds greatest liberty would appear to be a thralldom, and his most delicious sweets would be as bitter as gall, and as loathsome to our taste as the infusion of worm wood, yea in truth as the chymicall extraction of Colyquintida.

But the miseries of the world and worldly things may be more clearly shown, by considering the testimonies of those who have spoken upon their own experience, and as they have been guided by God's Spirit, which can neither deceive nor be deceived; as also by insisting in some special instances of these miseries, wherewith all men generally are acquainted. The holy Patriarch Jacob speaking as he had found by lamentable experience, telleth Pharaoh, that the days of his life had been few and evil: and this Job enlargeth to all the sons of men, saying, that man who is borne of a woman, is of short continuance and full of trouble: yea the Wise man himself who had taken the deepest draught in the golden cup of the worlds prosperity, even after he had glutted himself with voluptuous pleasures; concludeth that all is not only vanity, but also vexation of spirit, and that all man's days are sorrows, and his travail grief, so that his heart can take no rest, no not in the night, which time is purposely destinated to rest and quietness: and elsewhere he affirmeth, that the misery of man is great upon him. With which heavenly oracles of divine truth, agree the manifold testimonies of the wiser sort of men. The Son of Sirach saith, that great travail is created for all men, and an heavy yoke for the sons of Adam, from the day that they go out of their mothers womb, till the day that they return to the mother of all things. Namely their thoughts, & fear of heart, & the imagination of the things they wait for, & the day of death. From him that sitteth upon the glorious throne, unto him that is beneath in the earth and ashes. From him that is clothed with blew silk and weareth a crown, even unto him that is clothed in simple linen: wrath and envy, trouble and unquietness, fear of death, rigor, strife, &c. With him agreeth another, who was herein more wise and learned, because he saw and acknowledged his own ignorance; O Lord my God (saith he) this life present is full of labor and tribulation, as being led with bitter mourning, and lost with brackish tears; yea so great is the affliction of this wretched life, that it deserveth to be called rather a death, then life; or something else which is worse then death; seeing scarce any man passeth a day thereof, without cumbersome crosses, and cause of grief. Behold (saith another) the world in passing by troubleth us, and yet we love it; it deceiveth us, and we account it faithful; it killeth us, and yet as life it self it is affected and desired; it windeth from us, and we embrace it. O defiling world, how wouldest thou ravish thy lovers with delight, if thou diddest flourish? but flourish thou doest not; seeing thou hast no sincere joy, or stable constancy, but thy honey and sweetness hath it bitterness, false delights, certain grief, uncertain gladness, hard labor, fearful rest, replenished miseries, and an empty hope of happiness. And elsewhere, This present life is frail and miserable; uncertain, deceiving, and insatiable: we are borne in pain and sorrow, we are nourished in misery and difficulty, we live in labor and die in grief; and in the end (which is most to be lamented) if we depart impenitent, we plunge our souls into perpetual torments.

But this misery of man's life will better appear, if we consider it in the parts thereof, which are chiefly two, sin and punishment; for the former, we are even in our first conception, so wholly defiled with that corruption of nature which hath been derived unto us from our first parents, that we are only alive to sin, but dead to grace and all goodness; unable so much as to move in the way of righteousness which leadeth unto life, although we run with headlong hast in the way of wickedness, which bringeth those who go in it, to perdition and eternal death. And from this fountain of original sin, issue the poisonous streams of actual transgressions, whereby we break continually, through the whole course of our life, all the commandments of Almighty God, omitting the duties which he hath commanded, and committing the sins which he hath forbidden. In which misery of sin we are wholly plūged before we are called and converted unto God, committing all manner of wickedness with full swinge & consent of will, delighting our selves and rejoicing in our rebellion; by reason whereof we are naturally strangers and enemies unto God, subject to his wrath, to the curse of the law, and to all those fearful plagues and punishments, which therein are denounced against transgressors, the slaves of sin and Satan, and heirs of eternal death. Yea and after we are converted unto God, the flesh continually lusteth against the spirit, and the corruptions of nature remain so strong in us, that we cannot do the good we would, but the evil which we would not do, that do we. And as we are by this law of our members rebelling against the law of our mind, daily led captive unto sin; so are we thereby in such sort disabled, that we cannot, to the day of our death, offer unto God any one pure and perfect duty, without the filthy spots and stains of our corruption. Now what a misery is this, that we who were created God's glorious creatures, according to his own image, to the end that we should serve him in holiness of life, should, as though we had forgotten the end wherefore we came into the world, neglect all duty to our Creator, and become voluntary slaves to sin and Satan, ready to do his will; though we have nothing for our wages but eternal death? yea even after we are called and reconciled unto God, how great is our misery whilst we continue in this life, seeing we are daily entangled in the snares of sin, and have our best actions so imperfect and stained with our corruptions, that if the Lord should examine them according to his righteous judgment, they would deserve a curse rather then a blessing, and punishment rather then a reward? What a misery is this, that after we have with Jacob prevailed with God, we should halt of our corruptions to the day of death; and after we have broken out of the prison of Satan's bondage, and shaken off the chains of his subiections, all our joints should be so stiff and benumbed, that we should to the very end of life, lamely perform all holy duties, and halt like wretched cripples in the ways of God? Finally, that the more time is added to our days, the more we should add to the heap of our sins, and provoke our good God to just displeasure, who hath so tenderly loved us, that he gave his own dear son to death for the perfecting of our redemption?

And this is the chief part of all our misery, as being that cursed fountain from which all the rest spring and flow; for by reason hereof all the creatures in the world are made subject to corruption, and being made for blessings, they are turned into punishments; and though outwardly they seem excellent and desirable, yet this hidden poison of sin secretly lurking in them, maketh us to cast them up with grief, when with great pleasure we have swallowed them down. So that even those things which we chiefly affect are full of wretchedness, besides those innumerable miseries joined with them, which all taking notice of, do abhor and shun. And though the things we desire were freed from outward and accidental evils; yet themselves bring with them misery enough to make them justly loathsome to all that iudiciously taste and relish them. For the chief goodness of these worldly things which we desire, consisteth not in any absolute excellency that is in themselves, but only as they are present helps to free us for the time from the evils which we fear; and no other worth or esteem have they but as they come commended by some urgent necessity: thus we desire riches, not so much for any excellency we see in them, as because we fear and shun poverty; thus honors are esteemed, because we fear disgrace; thus meat hath only so much goodness in it, as men have hunger that feed upon it, and drink hath it worth from thirst; thus summer is commended unto us, by winter, warmeth by our cold, and the cool air, by intemperate heat. In a word, nothing in the world is esteemed good, but only so far forth as it bringeth letters of commendations from necessity, and serveth as a present means to free us from some evil, and to make us less miserable. And if wanting the praise which need imparteth unto it, it offer it self unto us, it is unwelcome, and we forthwith loath and dislike it. If meat come before hunger have made way for it in our desires, who is not glutted with the sight of it? If drink be not commended by thirst, who regardeth it? If we have more clothes laid on us when we are hot enough, we esteem it a burden and not a benefit: If abundance of wealth were offered unto us, not having before any want of it, and consequently no desire, we would not much value it: Finally, so much worth and esteem these worldly things have, as we have first want and misery. So that in truth he who hath most need, and is most wretched, he hath most joy and comfort by these earthly vanities when he hath liberty to enjoy them; he who is most hungry, hath also most pleasure by meat; he that is thirstiest, hath most delight in drink; and we must first want in state, or at least in mind, before riches have any great welcome: yea pleasure it self hath no sweet relish till our appetite be sharpened by the sharp sauce of misery and affliction, neither would any man think himself more happy for the acccesse of worldly things, unless it were for former felt, or future feared unhappiness.

In which respect our life is most fitly compared to a continual disease: for when we begin to live, we begin to be sick; and these worldly things which we so much esteem, are but medicines for our maladies, and plasters for our sores, which do not perfectly cure us, but only give us some present ease. For in truth the diseases are natural, here ditarie, rooted in our first principles, & having settled themselves in our bones and marrow they are incurable. And therefore as that is esteemed the best medicine for the gout which removeth the fit, and that the best salve which keepeth the incurable ulcer clean and sweet: so those are esteemed best among worldly things, that for the present serve as medicines to ease our natural miseries, which it is altogether impossible fully to heal and cure. This will better appear if we consider of some special instances; for what is hunger but a disease, which will consume a man in a few days, like that called the wolf, which if it be not fed with outward things, feedeth upon the body till it have destroyed it? And what is meat but the medicine of this sickness, which because it cannot perfectly cure it, therefore it is continually applied to remove the fit, and to asswage the present pain? What is thirst but a sickness, which would soon dispatch us, unless drink as a physical potion did for the instant serve for a remedy? So what is watching but a natural disease? and what is sleep but the medicine, that for the time helpeth it? What is covetousness but the souls fever? and what riches, but as a medicine which sometime easeth the fit for the present, though afterwards it be more raging? what ambition, but the hearts tympanie? and what honors, but an instant refreshing, which for a while allaieth the grief, though it rather increaseth then abateth the swelling? What is voluptuousness, but as the Wise man calleth it, a merry madness, which hath some present comfort, by pleasures and delights? What is labor, but a sickness, which rest easeth? what standing, but an infirmity, which sitting mitigateth? and this also long used becometh of a medicine a disease, which another kind of disposition or placing of the body doth for the time refresh? All which though custom make them so familiar, that we do not take any serious regard of them, yet if we could possibly be freed from them but one year, and live without hunger, thirst, cold, heat, labor, concupiscence, we would account them as troublesome diseases, if again they should cease upon us.

And thus • an first made miserable by sin, doth but show his wretchedness whilst he frolickes it out in the fruition of those things wherein he chiefly delighteth: and being sick of innumerable maladies, he is perfectly cured of none, but only is eased for the time by often changing his miseries with one another, hungering and eating, and after eating, again hungering; interchanging waking with sleeping, and sleeping with waking, like a sick man turning from side to side, to find some short repriuall of his pain; or as if one should leap out of the scorching heat, into the chilling cold, and often interchange the one for the other, accoūting both his refreshing, whereas in truth they are both his torment. For so is man naturally besotted on these earthly trifles, if he be ignorant of true happiness, and hath not fixed his heart on God and heavenly things, that he laboreth to have them in abundance, which he hath no sooner attained unto, but he hath also the usual companion thereof, glutting satiety and loat • some weariness: and no sooner is he thus cloyed, but presently he seeketh to refresh his dulled appetite with variety and change; one while desiring motion, and another while rest, now affecting mirth, and soon after solemn gravity; in the night wishing for day, and in the day for night, in heat for cold, and in cold for heat; eating and fasting, waking and sleeping, dressing and vndressing, sitting and standing, walking and lying, with such often iteration, as might well cause a loathing satiety, when as he is always in the same motion, like the horse in the mill, and (as the Wise man speaketh) seeth no new thing under the Sun.

But besides these inherent evils which make these worldly vanities so much desired, in themselves distasteful, they are conjoined and mingled with innumerable other miseries which adhere unto them; the which so far exceed in number, quantity and quality, all the earthly delights and comforts which we enjoy, as the brambles the roses, or the field weeds, the garden flowers. For who seeth not, yea who cannot speak upon his own feeling experience, that no day passeth without a number of miseries attending on it, whilst either the evils we fear do fall upon us, or the good things we hoped for fail us, and deceive our expectation, or the comforts which we presently enjoy are either indeed lost, or at least we in some danger, and fear of losing them? In which respect the miseries of this life may fitly be compared to Job's messengers, of which one had no sooner made an end of speaking, but another presently beginneth his tale, or like unto the billows of the sea, which without intermission come tumbling one in the neck of another, giving unto us scarce time of breathing, till we rest in the haven of death. It is true that some of these miseries do one so much exceed another, that the less is swallowed up of the greater, like the rivers by the sea, and is not discerned, though if it came alone, it would force complaining: and so predominant are some griefs, that the lesser appear no more, then the Stars when the Sun shineth, not that they are taken away, but because the greater working a more vehement impression, maketh us insensible of the less: yea so are we for our sins justly scanted of things truly good, that to make some little equality to our own comfort, we are fain to fill up the number by putting into the rank of good things, those which we think least evil, and things truly desirable failing us, to make choice of such as are least worthy to be refused. Herein behaving our selves like unto politic Commanders, who seeing the army of their enemies far to exceed their own party in strength and number, have, to fill up places, and to increase their multitude, made show of women instead of men, and set up a far off on stakes puppets and skare-crows for fighting soldiers, to dishearten the enemy, and encourage their own followers. So we being encountered with innumerable evils, and having few things truly good to refresh and cheare us against their assaults, are fain to make choice of shadows instead of substances, and to make many things good only by reputation and imaginary esteem, which a a sound and impartial judgment scarce thinketh tolerable evils. Now if we further consider, that as our miseries do infinitely in number exceed our comforts; so also one of them is sufficient to infuse such bitterness into a multitude of our most desired delights, that we cannot relish their sweetness, that one ounce of this gall of misery, maketh loathsome a whole pound of our sugared joys, and that a small dram of this Colyquintida, is enough to distaste a whole pot of pottage, making it to savor of death; then how little sweetness of comfort must we needs have, when as the part which we loath and abhor, so innumerable degrees exceedeth that which we like and love? But who seeth not that one tooth aking doth more vex us, then the health of all the rest of the body can delight us? that we are more tormented with a small loss, then comforted with great possessions? that when but one friend of many is taken away, we have more true grief by him which is lost, then joy and contentment in all the rest? that we are more disquieted with one disgrace, then delighted with many honors? and that we are not so much pleased in the fruition of many things loved and desired, as we are displeased when we are cut short of our hopes, or are troubled and combred with some evil which we loath and hate? and the reason is, because miseries do make a much deeper impression in us then our comforts, partly because they being in this vale of tears, as it were in their own place and element, have more vigor and strength in them, one increasing the force of another, as diverse sticks in the same fire; and retain their own nature without alteration; whereas good things are more weak and feeble in this place of banishment, as being not proper to them, and lose much of their purity and virtue, through the mixture and tainture of adhering evils: and partly, because by reason of our unthankfulness, we are always ready to extenuate God's blessings, and never almost think of them, but when they are taken from us; and contrariwise, if we have the least spark of evil, we are apt and willing to blow upon it with the f • ame of our impatiency, until we have made it a great fire, which inflameth and consumeth our hearts with grief and anguish.

But let us descend to some particulars, and for orders sake distinguish the miseries of man's life into some kinds; not that it is my purpose to speak largely of all, seeing they are so many and innumerable, that it would require a man's whole life to make but a bare catalogue or relation of them: but only so many of them briefly, as may serve to wean our hearts from the world which aboundeth with such miseries; and to fixe them on God his spiritual graces and heavenly happiness, which bring us sincere joy, without the mixture of any evils. The miseries then of man's life either respect him generally, or his several ages and estates. The general miseries unto which man's life is subject, are either those which are his own directly, or else his friends, which are his by sympathy, compassion and fellow feeling. Concerning the former, if we do but take a slight view of those miseries to which our frail life is subject, we shall find that even a large world of wretchedness, doth overwhelm this little world of man, and that whether we respect his state or person. For first, unto how many miseries is man subject about his state, whilst he seeketh to preserve and maintain, or to advance and better it? with what painful labors doth he spend his strength in the works of his calling, that he may provide sufficient for himself and his charge, which dependeth upon him? what cares, what watching, running, riding, buying, selling, plowing, sowing, reaping, and turmoiling to get a poor living? And this misery Eliphaz pointeth at; Miserie (saith he) cometh not from the dust, neither doth affliction spring out of the earth; but man is borne unto travail, as the sparks fly upward. With all which labors when as he hath worn out both body and mind, oftentimes for want of God's blessing he hath no success, and hath just cause to complain, that he hath spent his strength in vain, seeing with all his industry and labor he cannot attain unto the things which he laboreth for; but notwithstanding all his diligence pineth with want, or having found that he sought for, how is he troubled in the possession, how grieved with his losses, whilst God blowing upon that he hath, notwithstanding all his care and labor, it vanisheth like smoke, leaving him in poverty, who ere whiles was rich, and in contempt and disgrace, who not long since was respected and esteemed of all? Again, how innumerable are our wants above all other creatures in the world, & what care and pains is required to make a supply, and to furnish us with necessaries and sufficiency? what ado to provide us nourishment, what catering and cooking, boiling, roasting, baking, saucing? and when it is set before us how ignorant are we of the measure of our own bellies, how hardly do we keep a mean in our diet, feeding sufficiently without surfeiting? What care and cost is required to furnish us with apparel, housing, lodging, bedding, and other furniture? What dieting and watching over our appetite that it do not make us over greedily to feed upon that which we too sondly affect, and so impair our health? and being lost, what physic, medicines, bitter pilles, and loathsome potions, cautherizing, cutting, launching, and plaistering are we fain to use that we may recover it? Whereas the brutish creatures either want not these things, or easily supply their need without care or labor. What lands and possessions are needful for man's use? what purchases, writings, conueiances, suits in law, troubles and contentions, to hold that he hath, and secure his right? It were infinite to particularise those things which man wanteth, all which are so necessary unto him, either in truth, or in his own opinion, that his life without them cannot be comfortable; and look how much of them is lacking, and so much is detracted from his happiness, and added to his misery.

Let us add to the miseries of state, the miseries of person, and that both body & soul. The body of man is continually subject to many miseries; as hunger, thirst, heat, cold, watching and weariness; and that which is more cumbersome and grievous then all the rest, unto innumerable sorts of sicknesses and diseases: for how many maladies are peculiarly incident to every time of the year; as spring, summer, autumn, and winter, to every country and region, sex and age? how many diseases which overthrow the health of the whole body, as plague, fevers, agues, consumptions, palsies and the rest; yea how many are incident to every several part, and as it were in whole troops attend upon every particular member of man's body? surely so innumerable are they, that physicians to this day cannot discover, much less cure them; and howsoever they have filled many large volumes with them, yet they come far short of their infinite number, though those which they have already found, would make a man sick but barely to reckon them: many of which though some escape, yet few or none are exempted from them all; it being a thing impossible, though we were all an eye, to keep such narrow watch over our health as may be sufficient to preserve it from the violence of so many enemies which assault us on all sides, within us, without us, and round about us. Unto which we may add the tedious trouble and loathsome remedies which we are fain to use when our health is impaired, when as we are bound to forbear the things which we chiefly desire, and to use those which our nature abhorreth, pining our bodies with abstinence, which were oppressed with fullness, and swallowing into our stomachs loathsome medicines, which we have first distempered with licorous meats. Whereby it is hard to choose whether the physic or disease, the medicine or the malady be the worse: seeing our cure it self is a sickness, our helps hurts, and our medicines torments; neither can we be delivered from our griefs, but by suffering more grief, nor free our selves from these kinds of punishments, unless we be content to be further punished.

And these are some of those manifold miseries which are incident to the body; the which are not more in number, or so grievous and pernicious in their nature and quality, as those which trouble and torment the mind. For sin is the sickness of the soul, and therefore look with how many corruptions it is infected, and with so many spiritual diseases it is endangered. The understanding is subject to the blindness of ignorance; so as we may say with the Prophet, that we are beasts by our own knowledge; seeing we neither know God, nor his will, our selves, nor our own souls. Our willes are crooked and rebellious, and so whirled about with a willful frenzy, as neither reason nor religion can rule or govern them. Our memories are subject to a spiritual lethargy, forgetting still what we should remember, and remembering what we should forget. Our consciences are either sick of the dead palsy, having no sense or feeling of God's mercies or judgments; or else full of melancholicke fears and terrors, sores and wounds, so as they are ready desperately to cry out, when they have the least touch. Our hearts are the harborow of almost all diseases, there lodgeth the swelling tumor of pride, the wolf of ambition, the dropsy of covetousness, the madness of anger, and burning fever of furious revenge. In it dwelleth our tumultuous passions, which continually rebel against reason, and deny subjection to God and his law; there is the seat of carnal love, which setteth the heart on fire with the thing loved, and vexeth it with continual torment when it cannot enjoy it; there dwelleth envy and hatred, the one tormenting a man with another's happiness, the other turmoiling him in plotting and contriving his neighbors ruin, making himself presently miserable, because he would have another so in time to come. In it is mirth and mourning, joy and sorrow, the one pulling open the heart, and letting in much vanity; the other contracting and shutting it, that it may keep out all comfort and contentment, and both like rackets tossing a man interchangeablie the one to the other, till he be tired, and even worn out with weariness. There harboreth hope, the great deceiver of mankind, which maketh him continually to expect better, though he still findeth worse; and causeth him daily to believe it, and to refresh his soul with false comforts, after it hath ten thousand times failed him, and innumerably often defrauded his hungry desires. And there also dwelleth fear, which maketh a man presently miserable because he seeth a possibility of future misery, and tormenteth him not only by aggravating those evils which are present, but also by recalling those which are past, and by anticipating, and present apprehending those which are to come, many whereof are nothing so grievous felt as feared, and many never happening at all: and yet these false fears beget true sorrows, and cause no less grief though they never happen, then if they were already happened, killing a man with an empty sound, and as it were with paper-shot, and making him miserable in truth, because he is so in his own conceit. Wherein we are much more wretched then the brutish creatures; for they forget evils past, and fly from those which are present, and having escaped are secure for the time to come, quietly enjoying their present delights without any perturbation of future dangers; whereas fear maketh us to engross all griefs, and as though we could not be miserable enough with present evils, it recalleth those which are past, and layeth hold on those to come: and whereas it were our wisest course to fly our sorrows til they catch us, and to delay our misery, which we cannot wholly escape, that we may prolong our comfort as long as may be; fear maketh us foolishly to run upon our own ruin, and to meet our torments in the mid way, not staying for sorrows until they come, but willfully sending for them with posting speed, and haling them into our hearts before their time.

Moreover, besides these miseries which accompany every single passion, those are no less grievous and troublesome, which befall us through their opposition and fight, not only against reason, conscience and religion; in which conflict we are wounded notwithstanding our strongest and best approved armor, sometime with vain glory, sometime with avarice, sometime with voluptuousness, often with anger, & desire of revenge, and not seldom with many other unruly & violent affections; but even we are no less turmoiled with that civil dissension, & intestine conflict which is among our passions & desires, the one against the other, which are so opposite & contrary among themselves, that no wisdom of man can reconcile them. Whilest ambition haleth us into the seat of honor, fear pulleth us back, putting us in mind of the burden, and danger which doth accompany it, and whilst the former hath the upper hand we condemn our cowardice, whilst the other we exclaim against the mischiefs of ambition. So vain-glory persuadeth us to procure at the dearest rates the praise of bounty, and to purchase the love of all that are about us; but covetousness checketh this motion, and will not hear of parting with riches to buy smoke, and yet after avarice hath shut the purse, pride, whether it will or no, doth again pull it open. So voluptuousness enticeth us to follow pleasures, but desire of profit opposeth against it, telling us how foolish it is to spend upon the stock, and how unseasonable those pleasures are for time of strength, which is allotted to industry and labor; and yet when we have put our hand upon the plow, pleasure clapping us on the back, maketh us look behind us, and leaving our profit to follow our delights. Thus we desire the ease of a solitary life, but loath, neglect and contempt, and are in love with the respect that accompanieth action, but hate the care and labor. Thus we desire the multiplication of our years, but fear old age and death, as though we would be always traveling, and never be the forwarder in our way, and have a daily addition, without any increase; for what is old age but the multiplication of many years? and what is death but the haven unto which we • aile, and the iorneyes end unto which we are always traveling? Thus we love learning and wisdom, but loath the pains of study and observation; we desire to be rid of the tedious troubles of life, but presently unsay that we have said, being encountered with the fear of death. And finally, we are ravished with joy when we think of the fruition of God, and the kingdom of heaven, but when we hear that we must sell that we have, and give to the poor, forsake all, take up our cross and follow Christ, we go away sorrowful; we would be conformable unto Christ in glory, but not in his sufferings, and sit upon his throne on his right hand and on his left, but we cannot endure to drink with him in the cup of affliction: and to conclude, we do not sooner with one affection desire anything, then we are straight ready to vnwish our wishes, by reason of some inconveniences which cross another.

And thus have I shown the manifold miseries which are generally incident to mankind, in respect of themselves. From which if any plead immunity, and that he hath not yet drunk of this bitter cup, let him know that he is only repriued and not acquitted; and howsoever he is not brought out to execution, yet the sentence of condemnation being passed upon him, as well as upon others, he doth but stay the Judges pleasure till he calleth him forth. Let him consider that sailing in this world, as it were in a sea of miseries, he may for a time escape the tempest, but never the fear and danger; and that these miseries which are incident unto all, may happen unto any, though they be not yet happened: let them call to mind, that commonly after a fair summer, followeth a • oule winter, and a blustering storm after a sun-shine calm; that prosperity and adversity have their changes, and that no man but the true Christian can be said to be happy before his death. But besides these miseries which respect a man's self, there are innumerable more which respect his friends; and to say nothing of false and pretended love, whereby men prove most pernicious enemies, whilst they profess the greatest friendship; to say nothing of the breaches, fallings out, and hot contentions which sometime happen between those who are coupled in the nearest bond of amity; and to pass by all those discontents which are caused through the default of any party: how many are the miseries which accompany true friendship, even when it is most wisely entertained, and religiously observed? For who can see his friend thunder-stricken, and not tremble at the blow? who can behold him plunged into any misery, and not in compassion, and fellow-feeling communicate with him in his griefs? who sorroweth not at his friends losses; who groaneth not in his sickness, and bleedeth not at his wounds? Or though any man should be so happy as to have his friends also exempted from these miseries, or so potent to deliver them; yet how is he afflicted with his death; grieving with so much more sorrow, by how much he was more worthy of his love; and never rejoicing that he so long had him, but lamenting that he hath now lost him, and that sweet comfort which he took in his society? all which miseries though they be somewhat cased with the contrary comforts, yet considering that the griefs of this life do so far exceed the joys, and the crosses and affliction, the profits and delights, therefore it must needs follow, thath he who hath most friends, communicates in most miseries, and by compassion and fellow-feeling participates in most griefs and perturbations.

CHAP. XXIII.

Of the miseries which are specially incident unto all the ages of man.

ANd these are the miseries which are generally incident to mankind. Unto which we may add those which are specially belonging to all ages and estates; for no sooner have we our being, then we be in misery; and long before we breath the air, we draw in corruption, and are infected with the poison of sin: before we can sin we are sinners▪ as being heirs of our first parents transgression, and defiled with our next parents corruptions; and we offend God, before we know what it is to offend him: for with our parents seed is mixed the seeds of all manner of sin, and as we grow and wax strong, so sin with us groweth until it come to full maturity. Even in our first conception we also conceive corruption; and then the foundation of wickedness is laid, upon which in the whole course of our life we build up the strong holds of sin. Then we are Atheists, Idolaters, blasphemers, Sabbath-breakers, adulterers, murderers, thieves, false witness-bearers, not by actual transgression, but by an habitual disposition; and as we are said to be men, because we have in us the image of man, and seeds of humanity, though we never did any manly action, seeing nothing is wanting but growth and maturity: so by as good right we are called sinners of all kinds, because we have the nature and very image of sin, and the seeds of all corruptions living in us, which if we grow will grow with us; and come to full ripeness, if we ever attain unto perfect age. And thus David confessed, that he was borne in iniquity, yea that his mother conceived him in sin: and Job demandeth, who can bring a clean thing out of filthiness, or how man can be clean which is borne of a woman? And the Apostle telleth us, that by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death went over all man, because all men had sinned. Now what a misery is this to be sinners, as soon as we be men? to be poisoned in the very fountain and leprous in the very first principles of nature, seeing our sickness is the more incurable, because it is hereditary? to be dead in sin, as soon as we are alive to the world, the slaves of Satan, before we are out of the prison of the womb, and in the state of damnation, before we are in the state of the living? And as we are thus miserable in our spiritual estate when we are first conceived: so our outward and corporal condition is also full of wretchedness; for what are our matter and first principles, but a baso excrement of nature and impure seed? what is the habitation of the noblest, but the strait and dark p • ison of the womb, inuironed with the filth of nature? and what is his nourishment, but the impurest part of his mothers blood? But though it be a prison in respect of misery, yet not in respect of safety, for the child in the womb is sick of the mothers diseases, furfetted with her in temperance, and pined with her want, it is subject to every rush, & endangered with every sproi • e, every small bruise bringing with it a maim, & every maim, monstrous misshape. Finally, it is in danger of stifling, before it breathe, of choking before it feed, and the womb in which it is borne, is oftentimes the tomb in which it is buried.

But say that he escapeth the dangers of the womb; say he perisheth not with the miseries of these nine months close imprisonment; yet how great pain and peril endureth he, when the day cometh of his mothers deliverance and his liberty? unto what torments doth he unwittingly put her, who hath so long borne and nourished him; himself bearing a great part in these pains and miseries? how fain are they to part the one from the other, and yet what sorrow is there at their parting? into what dangers and extreme hazard are both exposed, the mother in bearing, and the child in suffering? how many are there which depart, as soon as they are parted, perishing on the coast as soon as they are launched out into this sea of miseries? and they which could no longer live together, die because they are severed and put asunder: no marvel therefore if they are borne weeping and crying, not only presaging • uture misery, but as feeling present pain; receiving these first sorrows of their birth as the earnest of all the rest, which they are to suffer in their ensuing life. For though he escape these dangers, and recover of the hurts which he sustained in his first conflict, yet what is the prolonging of his life, but the increasing of his torments? seeing man above all other creatures is compassed with miseries; for whereas they are able as soon as they come into the world, to stand, go, and help themselves, wanting but few things, all which they find ready for them: man as soon as he is borne, being poor, naked, and miserable, wanteth many things, and hath nothing to make supply; he standeth in need of milk to feed him, clothes to cover him, fire to warm him, nurses to tend him, being altogether unable to help himself. He hath no use of understanding to know his wants, nor speech to discover them, only he giveth some general notice of them by his bitter crying. He cannot go, stand, or creep, nor with all his wit and strength repel the injuries of a silly fly. And in this impotency he continueth long, bringing much trouble to others, before he hath any pleasure in himself. In respect of which present and ensuing miseries, Jeremiah wisheth that his mothers belly had been his grave, and her womb a perpetual conception, because he came forth of the womb to see labor and sorrow, and that his days should be consumed with shame.

But proceed we from the birth to the infancy and childhood of man, and here we shall find no immunity from miseries; but rather as they increase, so these increase with them, and grow stronger with their strength. For no sooner are poor infants delivered from the prison of the womb, but they are presently bound hand and foot, and wholly at the dispose of others, as not having obtained liberty, but only changed the prison and place of their restraint; and all the time of this infancy being without knowledge and understanding, and darkened with more then brutish ignorance, is spent in natural actions, eating, drinking, sleeping, crying and such like, being destitute of all worldly delights and comforts, and only sensible in griefs and miseries. Next unto infancy succeedeth childhood, which as it hath more sport and pleasure, so also more fear and danger; for no sooner can they go, but presuming above their strength, they get many falls and bruises; and having legs to carry them, and little wit to guide them, they are exposed to many casualties, and except they have the better tendance, are overtaken with many dangers. And when a few more years are overpast, after they begin a little to relish pleasures, and to take delight in sports and pastimes, presently they are checked in them by their superiors, and subjected to the government of some master, who restraineth them of their liked liberty, and forceth them to follow their loathed studies. And now being kept in awe, they begin to distaste the bitterness of limited liberty; and either play with fear, or learn with tedious weariness, having their eye on their book, and their hearts on their pastimes, and being forced with fear to displease themselves, whilst unwillingly they please their overseers, so that now again they recall in their wishes the impotency and ignorance of infancy, that they might also recover their secure liberty: or finding that impossible, they set spurs to running time, and wish the end and death of this servile age, that being set at liberty, they may be at their own dispose without control. Unto which when they have attained, and pulling their neck out of the yoke of subjection, have together with the age the privileges and liberty of youth, they are as far from happiness, and full of misery as they were before: for now it fareth with them as with the bird which hath been brought up in the cage, who • earcheth every hole and corner to find a passage for her escape, and at length finding the door open flieth out, and rejoiceth in her new got liberty; but with little cause: for wanting wit and experience to shift and provide for her self, she is presently endangered to killing by reason of her tamenes; or of starving, because she knoweth not how to get her living. Or like a new backed colt, who having cast his rider, doth for a while with frolic wantonness course about the field, but being spent and tired, he wisheth himself in the stable, subject again to his masters rule, that he also may be partaker of his provision. So these younger prodigals, having shaken off the yoke of government, and being wholly at their own dispose, do wildly run many desperate courses, expose themselves to innumerable dangers, and having neither the skill of getting nor care of keeping, they consume all in riot and voluptuous pleasure, till their state is brought to so low an ebb, that they are ready to starve for want of necessaries, who before surfeited of superfluity, and to be in truth fellow-commoners with the hogs in their course fare of mast and draff, who before were like unto them in the allegory, glutting themselves with pleasures, and wallowing in carnal and sensual delights. And howsoever they have now got a name of liberty, yet in truth they were never in the like thralldom; seeing they have changed the government of one father or master, into the tyranny, or rather anarchy of innumerable passions: and reason being not yet seated in his throne, they are like the people of Israel without a king, who did nothing well, because they did everyone what they would; and whereas their other governors ruled with discretion, aimed at their good, restrained them from running on in licentious courses, and kept them in some good order; these new guides, like lords of misrule, lead them with headlong rashness into all desperate attempts, riot, excess; and all kind of disorder, which seemeth but to promise the present fruition of some vain delight. Now fond love, and filthy lust, mad anger, and furious revenge, proud emulation, and scornful contempt, ungrounded hopes, and causeless fears, immodest wantonness, and immoderate mirth; sports and pastimes no less full of sin and vanity, then of harm and dangers, and voluptuousness in all kinds, as surfeiting, gluttony, drunkenness, gaming, whoring, rioting and revelling, swaggering and swearing, are in their full strength, and chief predominance; which if they yield unto, they find themselves tossed from one to another and never at rest, and as it were distracted and hailed between so many furies, which day and night haunting them, carry them headlong into innumerable dangers of body, soul, and state, wherein many suffer shipwreck, and are devoured of these enticing. Sirens; and they who escape with life, are so shaken and shattered, so full of leaks and rifts, that with much pains and difficulty they arrive at the haven of safety; where they have just cause to spend the remainder of their days, in bitter repentance lamenting the errors, and ill-guided courses of their sinful and unbridled youth. Or if God give them grace to resist their passions in their full strength; how tedious and troublesome is their task? with how many foils and wounds do they obtain the victory? how often are they ready to yield, and to look back to Sodom with strong desires of enjoining her sinful pleasures? Finally, how hard and difficult do they find it to resist their natural corruptions in their full vigor, to spend their time in fasting, watching, reading, hearing, and praying, when as corrupt nature with her full strength haleth them to vain pleasures and sinful delights? it being as our Savior Christ saith all one, as if they should pluck out their eyes, cut off their right hand and foot, mortify their members, deny themselves, and voluntarily • ear the cross, upon which their own bodies must be cruci • ied:

And these, with many more, are the errors, vanities, and evils which accompany youth, wherewith men being tired and wearied do desire to attain unto ripe and perfect age, that they may shake off all these infirmities and inconveniences, and spend the remainder of their lives in a settled and well governed estate, under the guide of reason, and conduct of wisdom. But when they have their wish, they find themselves no more happy, or less miserable then they were before, having only changed their evils and troubles for those which are greater, less pleasant, and more burthensome and intolerable. For still they remain subject, and in bondage to their affections and passions, and are not freed from the servitude of them all, but only have changed their masters: And this alone difference there is, that the passions and affections of youth are more hot, rash, and violent, and consequently more unconstant, short and momentary; whereas those to which this perfect age is subject, are somewhat more stayed and moderate, but withal much more dangerous and pernicious, because they are more constant and permanent▪ and whereas the foolish affections of youth are nearer unto repentance, because men for their grossness are apt to be ashamed of them, as directly contradicting and opposing against reason and the light of nature; these of riper age are more incurable, because they are mad with reason and fill their mouths with arguments to back and maintain their inordinate desires as lawful and warrantable; calling their vices by the names of those virtues, which in some shadow of similitude they do a little resemble. Now they leave their prodigality and excessive riot, and subject thenselves unto avarice & covetousness, under the name of frugality and good husbandry, defending all their vile courses of oppression, deceit, bribing, usury and the rest, under the shadow of that laudable care, which everyone should take to maintain his charge; they set aside their wanton pleasures and vain sports, and give themselves over to be ruled by ambition; with insatiable desire affecting one honor after another, under the color of pre •• uing their fame and reputation: they now dislike their open rashness, and violent courses in accomplishing their willes; and give themselves to the practice of cunning plots, to dissimulation, double dealing, treachery and devilish subtleties, all which they entitle with the name of wisdom and good policy. Unto which we may add the manifold cares which accompany men of this age, and the toilsome labors which they take in settling their state, in providing of such things as they call necessaries, in purchasing lands, building houses, and procuring sufficient maintenance for their wife and children whilst they live, and after their departure; all which is requited oftentimes with unfaithfulness in the one, and with vndutiful ingratitude and stubborn rebellion in the other, the great difficulties which they find in governing their household, the disagreeing of children, contentions of servants, and manifold disorders of their families, which they are fain oftentimes to pass over, because they cannot tell how to reform them; with innumerable other evils, which it were too long to stand upon.

Finally, if we attain unto old age, which all desire, and none like; what shall we there find but misery and affliction? for what is old age but a continual sickness, the receptacle of all human infirmities, and the prelude of death? And howsoever men usually make it the chief harborough of their hopes, and are content to learn in their childhood, and to take pains and care in their youth and riper age, that now having plenty, they may live upon the stock, take their ease, and enjoy their pleasures; contrariwise old age coming, is accompanied with so many infirmities, that though they have much, yet they enjoy little, though they may have many sports, yet they have small mirth and few delights. For to say nothing of those who have gray hairs and green wits, and being old in years are again children in understanding; to let them pass who lose the chief privileges of that age, for want of wisdom and discretion, and are strong and vigorous in nothing which concerneth either body or mind, but only in their vices and corruptions: to let them alone who have spent their time so ignorantly and vnprofitablie, that they are ready to die, before they know what it is to live, and to leave the earth before they have learned the way to heaven: how many other infirmities and sorrows do attend it, which are sufficient (if grace support not) to make it miserable? For then usually the soul is vexed, and the conscience troubled with the errors and crimes of ill-guided youth, and with the wrongs, deceits, and oppressions committed in riper age: then the body is tormented with the rushes and bruises taken in youthful sports, and violent exercises, enfeebled with the cares, watchings, and labors sustained in that age which is accounted most perfect, and punished for the intemperance, voluptuousness, surfeiting and excess of them both, with innumerable sicknesses and diseases: then is the time when palsies, gouts, stone, strangurie, collicke and innumerable such like tortures chiefly sway: then the head shaketh, the back stoopeth, the joints tremble, the limbs are weakened, lame and stiff, ready to stagger and run because they cannot go, the spirits languish, the vital heat decayeth, having first spent the natural moisture, and like the flame consumed that whereby it was nourished; the ears deaf, or thick of hearing, the eyes bleared, the sight dimmed, the feeling benumbed, the smell and taste lost and perished, the face wrinkled, the skin riueled, the teeth rotted, the breath corrupted, and in a word, the whole body enfeebled and diseased. Unto which we might add the infirmities of the mind, wherewith usually in this age it is extraordinarily cumbered, as the dullness of conceit and understanding, the stiff peruersenes of the will, the decay of memory, the disorder of the affections: for being made tender with infirmities they are easily angered, and hardly pleased, apt to conceive jealousies and suspicions, and not so ready to receive satisfaction; over heavy and sorrowful, repining and complaining, and senselessly covetous and greedy in heaping up wealth, when they are ready to leave it, and have no time to enjoy it. In a word, whether we consider the evils naturally incident to this age which respect the body or the mind, we must needs conclude that it is full of miseries.

CHAP. XXIIII.

Of the manifold miseries unto which all estates of men are subject.

ANd thus have I shown the miseries of all ages. The like also may be said of all estats and conditions of men, which are all so full of wretchedness, that everyone having experience of their own evils, wish rather to be any other then that they are; whereas if all should bring their miseries to a common bank, and plainly discover them to open view, offering to exchange estates with one another; even those who most complained of their condition, as being more wretched then any other, seeing the common miseries incident to all degrees of men, no less grievous then those which they sustain, would contentedly take their own again, and willingly depart without any desire of commutation. For there is no estate which hath not miseries eno • attending on it, to make them wretched who live in it, if they be not strengthened with present patience, and hope of future happiness: there is none in the world so happy, who if they compare their honey with their gall, and their comforts with their crosses, have not just cause to complain of their unhappiness. For doth a man lead a single life? why then as he hath not the cares, so neither the comforts of wedlock; and as he is privileged, having none to care for, so he is punished, having none to care for him: as he hath few to bring unto him want, so if he be in need, he hath as few to relieve him; as he hath no children to trouble him, so neither to cheer and refresh him, when he is otherwise troubled: to say nothing of his solitariness usually accompanied with sad melancholy, of the loss of half his kindred and friends which by marriage are doubled, of the continuance of his life and memory in his posterity; of the troublesome conflict which he continually hath against his own concupiscence, of the discontents which he endureth, whilst either setting his feet under another man's table, • e is fain to eat when they are an hungered, to go to bed when they are drowsy, to make their appetite the rule of his diet, and to be subject to their orders; or keeping a house without an housewife, and wanting an helper, which is as it were the one half of himself, he is subject to receive many indignities from his servants, and to have his estate wasted, and havoc made of all, by those to whom he giveth food and clothing. On the other side, doth a man live in the state of marriage? then surely as he hath some comforts, so also many troubles: for besides his pains and care in providing for, and governing of his family, he hath many crosses in his chiefest comforts; for hath he a good wife? he feareth to lose her, and is tormented with her loss: hath he a bad one? she is as a continual dropping to his bed, and as a cotidian ague to his bones? hath he no children? then with the holy Patriarch he complaineth, that all he hath is nothing, having no heirs of his body, to enjoy his labors. Hath he but one? commonly he spoileth him with cockering, and by ouerlouing him he maketh him unworthy love, and is more troubled with fear of losing him, then comforted with enjoying him. Hath he many? then commonly some undutiful and rebellious, by whom he is more vexed and grieved, then pleased and delighted in all the rest. Hath he few servants? then also small attendance: hath he many to do his work? then also many to whom he must pay wages, many mouths to feed, many businesses to oversee, and having many to rule, he hath so much the harder task if he govern well.

The like also may be said of other states and conditions: for doth a man lead a private life? he is subject to contempt, injuries, and oppressions of those who are in authority. Is he a public person? he is as it were openly upon the stage, obnoxious to the censures of the basest people, liable to their slanders and evil reports, exposed to many dangers, turmoiled with much labor and many cares, envied of his inferiors, and hated of the most, if they cannot serve their own turns by his authority. Is a man of mean quality? his virtues, wisdom, and good parts, pass and perish vn • ewarded, yea vnobserued, as the Wise man noted. Is he noblie descended? he is exposed to more temptations, more prone to fall into many sins, and being overtaken, the greatness of his birth doth but aggravate the greatness of his fault. And as he beareth a great port, so he is at great charge to maintain it, at great care also to furnish himself with means. And if he come short, his state ouermatching his ability, then are his cares multiplied and increased according to his employments and occasions, wherein he is defective; then is he as bare and discontent, as he who carrying a low sails possesseth least, and all his pomp and greatness is nothing else but proud penury, and glorious beggary. Is a man in the state of subjection? his life and lands, body and goods, are at his Sovereigns command; and if conscience and religion restrain him not, his frown is as a sword, and his displeasure bringeth death. Is he seated in the royal throne? the greatness of his command, doth but add to the greatness of his care and pains; increaseth his fears, and exposes him to greater dangers, not only of fo • rain force, but also of secret conspiracies, and hidden treachery. Doth a man live as a merchant? he liveth (as one saith) neither among the living nor the dead, there being in his best health but an inch between him and death; his person and goods are often at the mercy of the unmerciful seas, and more merciless pirates; and standeth at the devotion of foreign potentates, and barbarous people. Is he a tradesman? his honesty dependeth upon the credit of other men, failing when it fails; his state is continually endangered with bad debtors, who decaying, bring him also to ruin, and usually he is so prodigal in giving credit to others, that in the end he leaveth not any for himself. Is he a lawyer? he selleth his breath, if not his honesty and truth; he loseth his peace in finding his profit, and spendeth a great part of his time in wrangling and contending, whilst he pretendeth to accord differences, and decide controversies. Is he a husbandman? his life is a continual toile, and after all his labor he is still in fear of losing all by unseasonable weather, one while complaining of rain, and another of drought, now of too much heat, and soon after of frosts and cold; one year of mildewes and blasting, and another of worms, cankers and caterpillars. In a word, there is in this world no man's estate so happy, but besides the innumerable miseries which are incident to all mankind, he hath many evils proper and peculiar to his particular calling and condition.

Now if any think that christianity, & the true fear of God will exempt men from this misery, and advance unto happiness; let him know, that howsoever this estate doth bring with it such inward comforts, as will not suffer them by misery it self to be made miserable, yet in respect of freedom from the miseries of this life, they have but little privilege above others, and as little preferment in worldly happiness; so as they may truly say of their felicity, as Christ of his kingdom, that it is not of this world, but reserved in the heavens. Yea rather (setting aside our spiritual comforts, and future hopes) that they of all men are most miserable, as the Apostle speaketh. For besides that they have a large share in those miseries which are commonly incident to other men; they have certain others proper and peculiar to themselves; for no sooner hath our Savior Christ chosen them out of the world, but presently it professeth against them open enmity, it envieth their prosperity, and plotteth their ruin; it scorneth, derideth, backbiteth and slandereth them; it wrongeth, oppresseth, afflicteth and persecuteth them, haling them before the judgment seats, accusing, condemning and killing them for the profession of God's truth. So that our Savior Christ might well say peculiarly of them above others, that in the world they shall have trouble; because none in the world are so troubled. Unto these we may add the griefs which their righteous souls do suffer in seeing the abominations committed by these cursed Sodomites among whom they live; as when they behold God's worship neglected, and idolatry erected, some adoring images, and some making an idol of the world; the holy name of God blasphemed, his Sabbaths profaned, authority despised, government disordered, murders committed & pardoned, the whole land defiled with tolerated filthiness. When they shall see all preferments attained by bribing and corruption: In the places of judgment, justice perverted, truth wrested, equity contemned, the guilty acquitted, the guiltless condemned, wrong maintained and right suppressed; and all things carried with favor and respect of persons. And among private men cruelty and oppression bearing sway, every shop full of lying and deceit, every street full of pride and vanity, and almost every man abhorring simplicity and faithful dealing, and affecting the art of dissimulation, hypocrisy, treachery, double dealing, complemental friendship, and disguised enmity. What a grief, I say, must this needs bring to a child of God, to see his heavenly father thus dishonored, and his laws neglected, and trodden under foot? yea when he shall behold those most advanced and respected in the world, who most dishonor God by running on in the course of wickedness? when he shall see him who hath used most deceit most enriched, and he who is most rich most esteemed, the world measuring his goodness according to his goods, and not his virtues; when he beholdeth the oppressor, extortioner, usurer, who should stand at the bar, sitting on the judgment seat; the rich fool made a magistrate to rule others, who hath not wit enough to govern himself; the poet and player more esteemed then the painful preacher; the ambitious advanced, having nothing to raise them but their pride and impudency, whereby they have resolved that they will rise; the humble, though never so worthy, neglected and kept under; audacious boldness having free entrance, when as modesty is repelled and excluded; the parasite and flatterer much esteemed, and he who faithfully admonisheth and speaketh the truth from his heart, hated and disgraced. But besides the grief which the faithful sustain in beholding the sins of professed worldlings, they are much more vexed with the scandalous lives and exemplary sins of those who are the professors of God's true religion; whenas they who daily hear the word, make conscience of an oth, abstain from the unprofitable corruptions of the time, and make some outward reformation in their family; are nevertheless as proud and fantastical in their apparel, as unfaithful to their friend, as false in their word and promise, as deceitful in their dealing, as backward in all works of mercy, and as covetous in all their courses, as the profane contemners of all religion. Seeing these sins do more dishonor their heavenly father, as being committed by those who are of his own family, and tha • against the light of knowledge, the often admonitions of God's spirit, and checks of their own consciences: And also do more disgrace them who are professors of the same truth; whilst they besprinkle them with their filth, and dim the light of their holy conversation with the duskish smoke of their discovered wickedness; causing them to be suspected of the same crimes, because they are of the same profession, and exercise themselves in performing the duties of the same religion. Besides all which griefs which have an outward ground; they have inward causes of much misery, trouble, and bitter sorrow. For they are continually exercised in that dangerous conflict against the spiritual enemies of their salvation; Satan daily like a roaring Lion seeketh to devour them, by suggesting into their minds wicked temptations, whereby he allureth them to lose their souls by sin, for the hire of some worldly vanities; the world maligneth them, and allureth them unto evil by offering some pleasing baits, or discourageth them from that which is good by troubles and persecutions: the flesh lusteth continually against the spirit, and maketh them to do the evil they hate, and to neglect the good which they like and love. In which spiritual warfare they are always troubled, and often foiled, being overcome with temptation, and led captive unto sin. And this is the last and greatest misery wherewith the faithful are in this life afflicted and molested, in that they are through the strength of their enemies, and violence of their own corruptions, often besides their purpose overtaken of sin, and thereby offend their gracious God, whose displeasure they shun as the greatest evil.

CHAP. XXV.

Of the miseries which accompany worldly things, in respect of their getting, keeping and possession.

ANd thus have I shown some of the manifold miseries which do accompany the life of man: which if any think that they may be cured with the counterpoison of worldly prosperity, and that we may find in earthly things such comforts, as may bear us out in all these crosses, making our joys to exceed our sorrows; let such an one know that he is much deceived, seeing they are so far from freeing us from the former miseries, that they help to increase them; and though like Job's friends, they proffer their service for the mitigating and appeasing of our griefs, yet before they depart they add unto our sorrows, and aggravate the weight of our affliction: for besides the evils which they find, they bring many with them, and like liberal contributers, they add abundantly to the bank and heap of misery. For let a man but set his heart upon these vanities, and with what cares is he presently turmoiled? with what hopes and fears is he continually racked? with what envy, emulation, jealousy, rage, hatred, and contention is he forthwith wholly possessed? spending part of his time in mad mirth, when he hath his desires; and a greater part in sad melancholy, because he is crossed of his hopes; one while over joyed and snatched up into the clouds with ravishing admiration, and soon after suddenly dejected with discontent, because he can ascend no higher in the pursuit of those things which chiefly affect him. Thus he who taketh all his pains in sowing the seeds of honor, hath never a harvest that answereth his greedy expectation, but having sown the wind of vain-glory, he reapeth the whirl-wind of trouble and vexation, as the Prophet speaketh: for his head is continually turmoiled with cares to rise higher, and with fears lest missing footing in his climbing, he fall from that height unto which he is already aspired: every honor which he misseth is unto him a grievous disgrace: the not uncovering of his inferiors head, is a corrasiue to his heart; and the greatest honor doth not bring unto him any joy and comfort, when as he is but touched with the least contempt: the least frown of his Prince, as a piercing sword, inflicteth such a deep wound into his heart, that all the smoothing tongues of his fawning flatterers cannot make it whole again with their often licking; only it is the renewed beams of the Princes favor, that can do away these clouds of sorrow. So what cares and fears, troubles and discontents accompany worldly wealth, if it be immoderately loved and affected? In regard whereof one faith, that no man can wish an heavier curse unto a covetous man, then that he live long, because like the Indians he is continually tormented with the idol which he worshippeth, and when he aboundeth most in wealth, he is not so rich in anything, as in woe and misery: for what tedious tasks doth his golden god impose upon him? how is he constrained to watch whole nights in giving attendance? how doth it thrust him into desperate dangers, for the compassing of that which being obtained, it will not give unto him power to enjoy? In regard whereof that may be truly said of them, which is spoken of the Angel of the Church of the Laodiceans, that they only have a name and bare opinion of being rich, whereas they are wretched and miserable, poor and naked.

The like also may be said of worldly pleasures, which are not only the companions, but also the causes of many miseries: for joy and sorrow like two twins are borne and bred together; and no sooner doth the one appear, but presently the other attendeth on it. So the Wise man saith, that even in laughing the heart is sorrowful, and the end of mirth is heaviness. Fitly therefore are these carnal pleasures called the worlds Sirens, which have the beautiful faces of women, but the hinder parts of scorpions, they have honey in the mouth, but a sting in the tail; for though they delight at the first taste, yet in the end they prove as bitter as the gall of Serpents; though in the beginning they please the carnal appetite, yet poisoning us with many sins, at last they bring horror of mind, trouble of conscience, and at the best bitter grief, and painful, though profitable sorrow, and repentance. In which respect they may fitly be compared to Abner's play, which began with pleasure, but ended with bitterness; to Balthasers banquet, which began with mirth and jollity, but ended with fear and trembling; and to sweet meats of hard digestion, which are pleasant in the mouth, but loathsome and burthensome in the stomach: for who seeth not that riotous revelling in worldly delights, is commonly attēded on with want and beggary? that unclean lusts, and filthiness of life, are accompanied with inward diseases and outward shame? that banqueting and excessive fare, is the mother and nurse of the most sicknesses, and the common cause of untimely death? yea who seeth not that these carnal delights are not only accompanied with miseries, but in themselves miserable? for to say nothing of their common fellowship which they have with sin, which above all things in the world maketh a man wretched, we find by continual experience, that these pleasures like sweet and luscious meats, grow presently loathsome; unless our appetite be sharpened by the sour sauce of interchanged miseries; that until we have enough of them, we are troubled with our own concupiscence, but no sooner have we satiety, but there followeth tedious loathing; and seldom or never is there such a just equipoise and proportion, but that we are vexed with too much or with too little. Finally, we find that extremity of joy is an heavy burden, of which the heart seeketh no less to ease it self, by sending out whole floods of tears, then when the weight of grief lieth heavy on it: yea that being excessive it bringeth, as a more pleasant, so also more sudden death, then the greatest extremity of bitter sorrow; the heart letting out the vital spirits, whilst it too much enlargeth and openeth it self, to let in pleasure and delight.

But the miseries which accompany these worldly things will better appear, if we more specially consider those which are incident unto them, in respect of their getting, keeping and losing them: for they are gotten with labor, kept with care and fear, and lost with grief and sorrow; or as it is in other words expressed; pains begetteth them, care nurseth them, and sorrow accompanieth them to their funerals. For first, howsoever these worldly things are of small worth, yet they are attained unto with no small labor; neither is there any good thing in the earth to be bought and purchased without the coin of continual pains, and laborious industry: so the Wise man saith, that all things are full of labor, and that God hath given to the sons of men to humble them thereby, great travail with little profit. Neither is it small pains which men take in pursuing of these vanities, but so extreme and great, that even they commonly consume and tire them: for so the Prophet saith, Behold, is it not of the Lord of hosts, that the people shall labor in the very fire? the people shall even weary themselves for very vanity? And surely who seeth not that worldly men do take much more pains in attaining unto earthly trifles, then God's servants take for heavenly treasures? and that with more ease we might furnish our selves through God's blessing, with all spiritual, sanctifying and saving graces, then with a small competency of worldly necessaries? and secure our selves of the fruition of our eternal inheritance, with far less labor then is usually taken in procuring of these worldly annuities, which last but for the short time of a momentary life, and oftentimes are not with all this pains enjoyed, they flying the more frō some, the more earnestly that they are pursued? And yet so foolish we are that we neglect these rich treasures of spiritual grace, and eternal joy, which God (to take away all excuse) hath offered unto us freely and frankly without money, and with little labor joined with much comfort; and with all eagerness pursue these worldly trifles which cannot be obtained without much pains and toilsome travel; like little boys who with great delight spend their sweat in catching a butterfly; but are straight tired though they sit easily at their books to get learning, and never take the least thought in securing unto themselves the title which they have to their inheritance.

The which folly is so much the greater, in that men do not take these extraordinary pains for obtaining worldly necessaries, but for the most part needless superfluities, not such as the necessity of our temporal life requireth; but such as insatiable concupiscence desireth and affecteth. For those things which are necessary to nature, and to the preservation of life, as meat and drink, clothing and lodging; air, fire, water, and the rest, are given liberally by God to those who take some moderate pains in their lawful callings, and they lie out in common without inclosure, to be obtained with ease by those that need them: but superfluities are not so easily compassed, being either hid and not found without great search, or enclosed about with so many difficulties, that men cannot approach them without great pains and danger. For example, the mines of gold and silver are hid in the secret caverns of the earth; precious stones, in the sea & sands; gorgeous clothes bought at dear rates, and delicious meats with much cost and pains procured, and with no less cooked and prepared. And yet (as one saith) though gold be hidden by the Indian Emits, watched by the Griffins, deeply buried in the earth, and not without restless labor, and extreme danger gotten and obtained; yet men willingly take all this pains, and boldly hazard themselves to all these perils: But though grace be freely offered without money, and heaven opened to all that desire, and but strive to enter; yet the most neglect the one, as not worth the receiving; and lose the other, because they had rather not have it, then take the least pains in traveling to it. Yea so are men besotted with the love of worldly vanities, that they take all these pains and endure these restless labors with pleasure and delight, which otherwise would be intolerable; and as it is said of Jacob loving Rachel, they think many years but a few days which is spent in compassing these things which they so fondly affect, that if this dotage supported them not, would be irksomely tedious. They are in such hast in running after these trifles, that though they tread upon prickles and briars they feel no hurt; so greatly do they thirst after these worldly vanities, that though they be made bitter with toilsome labor, yet they greedily swallow them with pleasing delight; and as the ox accustomed to draw in the yoke, doth after he is loosed, again yield his neck unto it of his own accord, without compulsion; so these men being inured to the worlds slavery, though they were set at liberty out of this thralldom, would again voluntarily take upon them the yoke of servitude, and wear themselves out with toilsome labor, to attain the uncertain possession of these momentary vanities.

And thus do ambitious men take infinite pains in attaining unto worldly glory and preferments; for it is the feed of labor which bringeth forth the fruit of honor; and he who will attain unto it must be content to endure toilesom pains, and to run himself into desperate perils, he must spend the day in restless travels, and the night in careful watching, plotting those policies which the next day he will put in practice, for the achieving or preserving of honor and advancement; like a common servant he is wholly taken up by other men's businesses, his sleep is broken by suitors, if not by his own cares; his recreations are interrupted with affairs of State, and whilst he becometh other men's, he ceaseth to be his own; having no spare time to enjoy himself, or to bestow on his private affairs, unless he will be exclaimed upon by his waiting clients, for giving too long attendance. He must in time of war fight in the front, first enter the breach, and even run upon the pike, and canons mouth, exposing his body to maimes and wounds, and his life to the extremist perils, if he will have honor. In the time of peace he must undergo no less perils, both of professed enemies, and undermining foes, the one seeking to crush him, the other to trip him whilst he is rising; nor yet endure less pains; for he must labor whilst others rest, watch whilst others sleep, and with a world of care uphold his state, whilst others live at • ase and take their pleasure. So what pains and perils do men undergo who will attain unto worldly riches? whilst they rise early, and go late to bed, fare hardly, and go barely, pinching both back and belly, and withholding necessaries from themselves and theirs, to increase the stock. If they stay at home they toile themselves in ploughing, and sowing, running and riding, with innumerable other labors to attain unto wealth. If their calling be such as employeth them abroad▪ what miseries do they endure? what pains do they take? what dangers do they run into? they must leave their own country, and run into voluntary banishment, as it were into another world, they must forsake house and friends, parents and children, yea they must be content to part with their wives, making a temporary divorce between them whom God hath conjoined; and as it were divide themselves, leaving half at home, when the other half must go abroad to seek for worldly pelf. They must commit themselves to the merciless waves, cruel pirates, and barbarous people, and one while be in danger of drowning, and another while of spoiling; sometime of starving on sea, and soon after of betraying when they are come to land. And thus as the Psalmist saith, man walketh in a shadow▪ and disquieteth himself in vain; he heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them. The like also may be said of pleasures, which have more pain and grief going before them, then joy and contentment coming with them: for what preparations are required to delightful shows, revels, and pastimes? and what running and riding, toiling and moiling, catering and cooking, is necessary for the provision of unnecessary dainties? In so much as the epicure himself who made a god of his belly, and an idol of his pleasure, prescribeth to his disciples for their chief diet, roots, apples, and ordinary meats, which might be procured with greatest ease; because exquisite banquets, and dainty fare, requiring for their preparation great care and labor, did bring unto men more pain and trouble in their getting, then pleasure and delight in their enjoying. In a word, whosoever purchase any of these worldly vanities, they are fain to buy them at so high a rate, that if at the first view the price were set upon these deceitful wares, all would pass by them, and not once cheapen them.

And thus have I shown what miseries accompany these worldly things in respect of the pains which are taken in their getting. Now if we further consider that these wearisome labors of the body, are commonly joined with the sin of the soul, and that as they bring to the one temporary troubles, so to the other eternal torments, if they be not prevented by serious repentance, we may justly conclude that in this respect also they are truly miserable. For what greater misery can be imagined then to toile for that which is not worth our pains, and after all our labor to give our souls to boot, for the procuring of these trifling vanities? to sell our souls unto sin, and by sin unto death, which the whole world cannot redeem when they are once lost? For if it will not profit us by the loss of them to gain the whole world, as our Savior speaketh; then how wretched is their estate, who sustain by sinning this irrecoverable loss, for the obtaining of some small pittance, & slender share of the worlds vanities? But who seeth not that few of many compass these worldly things by honest and lawful means; but take indirect and sinful courses for the achieving of their ends? Some wronging others by violence, oppression, treachery, and subtlety, fraud and deceit; and almost all wronging themselves with immeasurable toil, and carking care, spending their strength, and hastening their death, for the obtaining of these earthly trifles: whereby also they grievously sin against God, not only by destroying his creature, but by dishonoring the Creator, whilst wholly resting upon their own care and labor, and using their own means, they deny his providence, and refuse to be ordered in their courses by his directions prescribed in his word; as though either he were ignorant and knew not their wants, or careless and did not regard them; or insufficient, and not able to relieve them; whereas in truth, he seeth all, ruleth all, and hath enough in store for all that depend upon him: so that as the Wise man saith, in the fear of the Lord is an assured strength, and his children shall have hope: seeing he neither wanteth knowledge, power, nor will to provide for them. And thus do men draw unto themselves iniquity with the cords of these worldly vanities, as the Prophet speaketh, swallowing under these baits the hidden hooks of sin, and receiving these earthly trifles as the wages of wickedness; whereby they eternally lose themselves, for the temporary gain of worldly vanities. And yet so foolish men are, that they conceive not of this miserable loss; but think only those things dear which are bought with money, and those cheap for which they sell their souls; that loss alone which diminisheth their outward estate; and that advantage, which addeth to their stock, though it robbeth them of themselves, and their own salvation: and whereas they would refuse many things which they desire upon the base price of some little money, they will not stick to purchase it by sin, wrong, injury, oppression, lying and deceit, though thereby they hazard body and soul to hell and eternal death: whereby it appeareth how highly men prize these worldly trifles, and how meanly they esteem themselves, seeing they are ready to make exchange upon all occasions; and to make sale of their souls to buy these vanities.

Thus those who are ambitious do not only toile themselves with excessive pains, but also are ready to run on in any wicked course, which doth but promise to lead them unto honor and preferment. They care not to break the laws of God and men, they neither regard piety nor humanity, stranger nor familiar, kindred nor country, but are willing to confound all, to overthrow all, and to defile their consciences with blood, murders, conspiracies, treasons and rebellions, rather then they will fail to attain their proud hopes, thinking a kingdom well bought, which may be had at any price: they are ever plotting machiauellian policies, & think they are best advanced, whē they rise to their desired height by treading upon others, whom by their fraud and treachery they have supplanted; they make no account of lying, dissembling, swearing, forswearing, infidelity and falsehood, if by all, or any of them they can serve their own turns. Finally, having nothing in them worthy praise, they are ready to commend themselves by dispraising others, and having nothing simply good in them, they would appear good in comparison, by making others seem worse then themselves. Thus also covetous men are ready to commit all manner of wickedness to increase their riches, as oppression, extortion, cruelty, injury, bribery, usury, and all manner of fraud and deceit; yea they will not stick with Ahab to murder innocents, that they may make a prey of their goods; with Demas to forsake Christ and follow the world; with Judas to betray their master, and with Demetrius to stir up persecution against the disciples of our Lord and Savior, if they speak against that whereby they have advantage; yea in truth they are worse then Judas, for he would not sell Christ under the price of thirty silver pieces, whereas they are daily ready to part with, and forfeit that right and interest which they have in him by lying, swearing and deceiving, for the base offer of a groat or penny; yea when they have fold their souls unto sin, for the purchase of this worldly pelf, they are ready (as the Wise man speaketh) to transgress God's law for a piece of bread, and that even when they abound with wealth, and have no spur of necessity to prick them forward; having full bellies, with ravenous greediness they hunt after every prey; and like the fish which Peter caught, though they have money in their mouth, yet are they nibbling at every bait, and so as rich thieves, they double their fault in stealing when they have no need. Thus the Wise man bringeth in covetous worldlings resolving upon any wickedness for the obtaining of riches: Come, say they, we will lay wait for blood, and lie privily for the innocent without a cause, we will swallow them up like a grave, even whole, as those that go down into the pit; we will find all precious riches, and fill our houses with spoil. And lest we should think that this is the case of some few only, he concludeth, that such are the ways of everyone that is greedy of gain, and that he will take away the life of the owners thereof. So the Lord complaineth by his Prophet; among my people (saith he) are found wicked persons, that lay wait, as he that setteth snares, they have made a pit to catch men: as a cage is full of birds, so are their houses full of deceit, and thereby they are become great and waxen rich, they are waxen fat and shining, they do overpass the deeds of the wicked, they execute no iudgmet, no not the judgment of the fatherless, &c. And the Prophet Michah complaineth, that y ^e covetous oppressors of his times did hate the good & love the evil, pluck off the skins of the poor people from them, and their flesh from their bones, that they did eat also their flesh, slay off their skin, break their bones, & chop thē in pieces as for the pot, & as flesh within the caldron. And elsewhere, that they did use scant measures, false balances and deceitful weights, that their actions were full of cruelty, and their mouths full of deceit and lies: the which their sin is redoubled upon their sinful souls, because by their cruelty and deceit they oppress the poor, making choice to go over the hedge where they find it lowest, and treading those under foot, who are not able to rise or make resistance. And in regard of these and many other sins, which usually accompany riches in respect of their getting, they are called by one wicked riches; and by our Savior Christ, the mammon of iniquity: and in this regard also they are compared unto thorns, because as when they are hastily catched they wound the hand, so these the consciences of those who greedily seize upon them; and unto snares, which being covered with a bait, enthrall us whilst they allure us; for he who greedily desireth to obtain riches, taketh no care to avoid sin, and being taken like a bird, when with an hungry eye he beholdeth the bait of earthly things, he is unwittingly strangled with the snare of sin. Hence also it is that covetousness by the Apostle is said to be the root of all evil; and by another it is called the metropolis, or mother city of all vice and wickedness, because where it is entertained, thither also all manner of sin resorteth, and as it were keepeth continual term. In regard of which sins usually accompanying riches, in respect of the unlawful means which are ordinarily used in their getting, one doubteth not to affirm that a rich man is unrighteous himself, or the heir of one which is unrighteous: which though it be not always so, yet it seldom faileth in those who immoderately loving wealth, resolve with themselves that they will be rich; and making haste to satisfy their greedy desire with all possible speed, do in short time accomplish that they wish: for as sudden fullness and fatness is an undoubted sign of the ill disposition of the body; so when as a man suddenly waxeth great, and (as I may say) fat in his state, by ordinary means, and by his own industry and labor, it is an argument more then probable, that his mind is full of the gross humors of sin. Of the former the Apostle saith, that they who will be rich (that is, pitch and resolve upon it) fall into many temptations and snares, and into many foolish and noisome lusts, which draw men into perdition and destruction, because the desire of money is the root of all evil. And of the other, the Wise man telleth us, that he who maketh haste to be rich, shall not be innocent; and that he who hasteth unto riches, hath an evil eye: for as the Author of the book of Wisdom saith, they make their whole conversation to be but as a market where there is gain; and they resolve with themselves and doubt not to speak it, that they ought to be getting on every side, though it be by evil means. Yea this the Heathen man could discern by the light of nature; There is no man (saith he) suddenly made rich living justly; for a just man increaseth his wealth by little and little, through sparing frugality; but he that treacherously lieth in wait for those goods which others possess, doth forthwith seize on all, and all at once becometh rich. Now what greater misery can there be, then to find that trifling gain which bringeth with it the greatest loss; in getting silver to forfait the soul, and (as one saith) whilst we gain some gold to lose our faith, and whilst we decke our selves outwardly with these worldly ornaments, to be spoiled inwardly of all those spiritual ornaments of grace and virtue: but this misery accompanieth ill gotten goods; for the covetous man by his sinful gaining loseth himself, and whilst he deceiveth his neighbor of his silver, the devil cosoneth him of his salvation. Which howsoever for the present worldly men taste not, being over joyed because they have seised on their desired prey; yet if ever they come to remember themselves, and to feel the weight of their sin lying heavy upon their consciences, they will account these evil gains the greatest loss, and will take no more pleasure in them, then Judas in the sight of his thirty pieces of silver, when he saw also his sin in betraying his master, which did but work in him horror of conscience, and moved him in despair to murder himself. Or if God prevent them with his grace, their wealth will comfort the • no more then it did Zacchaeus, and that was neither in respect of his getting or keeping it, but as it did enable him to make restitution, and in liberal sort to relieve the poor. Let us therefore take heed that we do not fall into this sinful dotage of worldly men, who desire increase of their wealth though it be by evil means, seeing riches thus gotten are not only vain and momentary, but also hurtful and pernicious: for as the Wise▪ man saith, the gathering of treasures by a deceitful tongue, is vanity tossed to and fro of them that seek death. And the Prophet Jeremiah telleth us, that as the Partrich gathereth the young, which she hath not brought forth; so he that getteth riches, and not by right, shall leave them in the midst of his days, and at his end shall be a fool. So also they are hurtful and pernicious, seeing whilst they treasure up wealth, they treasure up sin; and in treasuring up sin, they also treasure up wrath, and having in heaping up wealth, heaped up sin, they also prepare for themselves an intolerable weight of condemnation and destruction. And therefore let us not set our hearts upon this mammon of iniquity, but upon the rich treasures of God's spiritual graces, and heavenly joys; which as they are infinitely of more worth and value, so may we certainly attain unto these things purely good, by good and holy means; seeing our Lord and Savior of his free grace and mercy, being infinitely rich, for our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty, might be made rich, as the Apostle speaketh.

Finally, worldly pleasures are seldom compassed but sin accompanieth them; they being the devils ordinary baits which he casteth before men, when he indeauoureth to catch them in the snares of destruction, and (as one calleth them) the very gate of sin, which leadeth us to the committing of all wickedness. More specially men sin in getting of their pleasures, whilst they pursue them with immoderate love, far esteeming them above their worth and value; when as they are at excessive cost in compassing them; spending those rich talents which God hath lent them, in these superfluities, which they ought to employ in relieving the poor members of Jesus Christ; when as they take up the greatest part of their care and pains, and not only their own, but many others also which are at their command; who spend a great part of their life in preparing shows, sports and pastimes; and in traveling sea and land to make provision of delicious drinks, and dainty meats, which may delight their curious pallets, causing a number to sweat many days for the procuring of that which bringeth but a momentary delight, lasting no longer then their dainties are in swallowing down, and in passing that short journey between the mouth and stomach. Finally, when as they raise their delights out of others torments, and maintain their pleasures by oppression, cruelty, deceit, wrong and injury, making many heavy and sorrowful their whole lives, that they may delight themselves with a few hours mirth. All which unlawful pleasures let every Christian carefully avoid, and thinking it sufficient for us that we have spent the time past of our lives after the lust of the Gentiles, walking in wantonness, lusts, drunkenness, in gluttony, drinkings, and in abominable idolatries: let us pass the remainder of our time in holiness and fear, laboring to take all our delight in those spiritual pleasures, which may be lawfully obtained, and being once enjoyed, shall never be taken from us.

And thus have I shown some of those many miseries which accompany these worldly things in respect of their getting and obtaining. Now further let us consider of those which are incident unto men in respect of their keeping and possession. For as they are gotten with great toile and labor, so are they kept with much care and fear, in regard whereof they are no less troublesome in the enjoining then they were in the obtaining; like herein unto wild & savage beasts, which cannot be taken without great pains and peril; and being in hold, bring no less labor and danger to restrain them from doing mischief. And in this respect the Wise man passeth this sentence of all worldly things, that they are not only vanity, but also vexation of spirit, troubling and molesting men both in their pursuit and possession. So he saith else where, that the house of the righteous hath much treasure, but the reueneues of the wicked is trouble: where if he had fitted the antithesis, he should have said, that as the one had much treasure, so the other much trouble: but to note the great molestation and anxiety of mind, which waiteth on the estate of worldly men, he is not contented to say, that it is troublesome, but trouble it self, or in it self trouble. The which trouble and restless vexation the Prophet Isaiah expresseth, by comparing wicked worldlings to the raging sea that cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. Now the cause of this care and fear in the keeping of these worldly vanities, is the immoderate love which their owners bear unto them; for as we securely possess those things which we little regard: so if once we set our heart upon anything though never so vain, we are presently tormented with a jealous care in keeping it, and fear of losing it. And as little children are never at quiet when they are fond of anybody in the family, but cry after them as soon as they see them, and when they have their company, cry as much if they but seem to stir, for fear of losing them; so if we once wax fond of these worldly vanities, we possess them with such care and fear, lest they should be taken from us, that they bring us much more disquietness and grief, then comfort and contentment in their fruition. Neither can we ever securely enjoy any worldly thing, or take delight in it without molestation, unless loving it less then we love our Creator, and possessing it with a desire moderated by his will, we be content to retain it as long as it pleaseth him, and can part with it willingly, when it is his pleasure to take it away; for when we love the world or anything in it with unlimited affection, and affect the creature, more then the Creator, it is just with the Lord, that this excessive love should be punished with excessive cares and fears, and that by immoderate loving, we should lose the comfort of our love. Now if any shall say that they feel no such torment or molestation through these cares and fears; let them know that it is not the want of a burden which procureth their ease, but their madness of affection which maketh them senseless in seeling the weight: it is not for want of trouble that they are so well contented, but because their foolish love causeth them to mistake crosses for comforts, and turneth torments into delights. Like those who are well pleased to have their backs almost broken, whilst they are loaded with gold; or unto such as being diseased with the dropsy, take their chief pleasure in drinking, though it be the chief cause of their pains and torments.

But how many miseries accompany these worldly vanities it may more plainly appear, if we insist in the special instances: for first as honors are begotten, borne and bred by perils and labors; so are they by the same nursed and preserved; neither can glorious fame be long maintained, unless it be upheld by watching care, and painful labor: and as those who climb up the high and steep rock of honor, must before they can get up spend much sweat, and be even tired with their laborious travel, so being come to the top, they shall stand as it were upon a narrow ridge, and find but tickle and slippery footing, whereby they shall be in danger of falling, unless they have a good brain, and a careful eye. And this causeth those who are advanced to high places, to be jealous and suspicious of all that stand about them, not thinking what they will do, but what they can do, nor what presently they undertake, but what they may attempt in time to come; making their power of infringing their glory, to be unto them a continual terror, as if already they were assaulted. They fear those who are under them, lest they pull them down, that themselves may more easily ascend; those that are their equals, and as it were on even ground, lest they should justle them out of the path of honor, and cross or overthrow them by competition, as being corriuals in the same love; and much more do they stand in fear of those who are above them, lest they should crush and tread them under foot, having the advantage of the upper ground. So that the ambitious man having with great pains ascended to the steep top of honors hill, findeth himself not exempted, from the stormy tempests of troubles & dangers, but rather exposed to them; and these high cedars are more often blasted, and shattered with thunders and lightnings, then the lowest shrubs. Which perils howsoever many escape yet few or none the fear; for as the thunder-bolt striking but one or two, doth affright and terrify all those who stand about them; so when those who are highly advanced, have their greatness ruined and overthrown, by those who are higher then they, or by the fury of popular rage, or because it is no longer able to bear it own weight, those have their part in the fear, though not in the danger, who are of the same quality and estate. Moreover, add unto these fears and cares the manifold molestations, and fretting griefs, which are incident to those who are of honorable condition, whilst they vindicate their reputation, upholding and preserving those honors which already they have received, or aspire unto new preferments, being distracted between hope and fear of rising; whilst they envy their superiors, emulate their equals, and magnify themselves to their inferiors. Every check of their Sovereign woundeth their heart, every repulse or disgrace crusheth and breaketh it: they are vexed with every salutation which they give unto their equals, if they be not resaluted; they are tormented if their inferiors fail in dutiful respect; and if any out strip them who was behind in this glorious race, they sink down with sorrow, and eat their hearts with grief: they are tormented if they do not over-top all in height and greatness; and though they be too high already, they have little joy in their advancement, unless they can rise to the full pitch of their proud hopes: often they desire to do evil; and yet are fearful that it should be discovered; and loving those courses of pride, insolence and tyranni • , which expose them to the envy and just hatred of all, they are nevertheless fretted and vexed, when they are reputed to be such as indeed they are, and when they find that they have no more love and respect then they have deserved: they would be lords over all, reigning and ruling at their own pleasure, and yet their pride abaseth them to a servile condition, setting over them so many masters as they have familiars and acquaintance, whom they often, even unwillingly observe and please, because they would not have them diminish their fame and glory, by detracting their praise and commendations. In a word, innumerable be the griefs and discontents accompanying this estate, many whereof are in their own nature grievous and very burthensome, and many in themselves but light, made heavy and intolerable, by the great spirits and small patience of those that bear them: whereby it appeareth that these worldly honors, though they make outwardly a glorious show, yet inwardly they are full of miseries; and therefore when the world offereth, and bestoweth them upon it friends and favorites, it dealeth with them, as the soldiers with Christ; for it giveth them glorious robes, but it is to mock them; it putteth a scepter into their hands, but it is of reed, which breaketh in the managing, and most faileth when it is most rested on; it bestoweth upon them crowns indeed, but they are of thorns, which being often smitten to their heads with the cruel strokes of adverse accidents, wound instead of comforting, and bring in the place of expected joy, innumerable molestations and bitter griefs: or though they be of pure gold, yet their worth is so much exceeded by their weight, that none will care to are them, but only such as cannot safely lay them aside, or those who are so wholly carried with the fury of ambition, that they take pleasure in their pain, and love that which is their torment: which being the case of many, gave just occasion to one of making this exclamation: O ambition (saith he) which art the cross and torment of the ambitious, how dost thou torment all, and yet please them in their torments, nothing more bitterly vexeth, nothing more grievously disquieteth, and yet nothing among miserable mortal men is more magnified and extol • ed.

The like or greater miseries accompany riches, whilst they are in custody and possession, both in respect of that care and labor of body and mind, in keeping and disposing them; and also in regard of the fear of losing them, and of many miserable effects which accompany them both: for as they are gotten with intolerable labors of the body, so they are possessed with infinite cares & perturbations of the mind, either whilst they who have them are troubled in disposing and employing them so, as may return unto them the greatest increase; or in sharing them with some indifferency to those who are of their family and charge (for when goods increase they also are increased that eat them, as the Wise man speaketh) or finally (if at least they be possessed with a good conscience) in watching over themselves, that they be not corrupted with their abundance, and that their plenty of gold do not make them poorer in godliness. In which respect riches are compared to thorns, which being griped wound the flesh, but be harmless if they lie in the open hand; so if they being excessively loved, be as it were griped with immoderate cares, they prick and wound the heart with many griefs & troubles; but if we carelessly keep them, & slightly hold them, being ready to part with them upon all good occasions, and to suffer them to take their flight like an Eagle, when God calleth for them, they will become to their owners not only harmless, but also profitable. To which purpose one demandeth: Who (saith he) would believe me, if I should interpret thorns to be riches? especially seeing they prick, and these delight; and yet in truth they are no better then thorns, because by their pricking cares they rent the mind, and when they entice us unto sin, they make it bloody with the wounds of wickedness. And as they are continually vexed with these cares in keeping them; so also with fear of losing them; for as before they had them, they pursued them with burning desire, so being possessed of them, they keep them with quaking fear; no sooner have they gotten riches, but presently they lose their security, and now they are in fear of that wealth which before they wished, sick of enjoining their own desires; and fall into travel, as soon as they have their longing: for as Eliphas speaketh, A sound of fear is always in their ears, lest in their peace and prosperity, the destroyer should come upon them. If the covetous rich man seeth one stronger then himself, he feareth violence and robbery; if one wiser, fraud and deceit; if one richer and mightier, then he is afraid of being spoiled by oppression; if one poorer and weaker, by theft and stealth; abroad he feareth thieves and robbers, at home he suspecteth his own servants; in time of war he is afraid of common spoilers, in time of peace, of envious and spiteful slanderers, which are ready to make him faulty because he is rich, and an enemy to the common wealth, because he hath too much for his own particular. Finally, the covetous rich man is afraid of all things, saving God's displeasure; and of losing all, except it be his own soul, and the joys of heaven: and such is his folly, that whilst he feareth to lose his gold, riches, lands and possessions, he is in no fear of losing himself, as though (excepting his own person) he had nothing in his custody, unworthy the keeping. Hence it is that he keepeth such a narrow watch over his wealth, and having enclosed and shut it up under the sure custody of many bolts, iron bard chests, and strong locks, which neither picking nor breaking can endanger, he addeth also to his aid so many servants, as his covetous mind will suffer him to maintain, that they may the better keep the watch, and bring security; but all in vain, for within a while he groweth jealous of his guard, and suspicious of his assistants; and the more able they are to keep out outward violence, the more stronger he thinketh them to break open his chests, and to spoil him of his treasures; and therefore thinking no known strength sufficient to keep his gold and silver from force or fraud, he hideth it in the ground, being ready to suspect his eyes and heart, as privy to his secrecy, lest imparting it to his tongue, it should reveal it at unawares either waking or sleeping. And as one of the ancients noteth, such is the madness of these greedy muck worms, that after they have with sweating pains, searched for their treasures in the bowels of the earth, they are ready with shiuering fear to hide and cover them in the earth again; like the adders young, which being newly come out of their dams belly, glide and return into it for safety, when as they are frighted with any danger. Yea and as though notwithstanding all this, it were not safe enough, they are ready (as one saith) to lie over the place in which their gold is hid, and to bury their harts together with their treasures, that it may be the better watched. In a word, as they never think their money free from danger, so are they never free from fear, they never securely eat or sleep, but as the holy martyr said, they sigh at their banquets, although they drink in the richest plate; and after their feasts, when they have laid down their bodies made lean with cares, and even hid them in their beds of down, they watch and can take no rest in their soft lodging; and when but a mouse stirreth, they are ready to bustle up, suspecting a thief; not understanding, wretches that they are, that all their wealth doth but bring unto thē glorious punishments, that they are fettered with their gold, and possessed of their riches, whilst they think they possess them. The which folly of over careful keeping their wealth, as it is in all sottish and absurd, so it is most ridiculous, and yet most common in old men; which though they have already one foot in the grave, yet do they in this kind show their foolish fear more then any other; burying their treasures in the earth, not long before themselves are buried, as though howsoever they never had any good of them in this life, yet they were in some hope to have it in the life to come. The which dotage befalleth men through the just judgment of God; for when as they neglect the love of their Creator, who is loved without any labor, he giveth them over to dote upon the creature which they love with laborious pains, and enjoy with many griefs; being ready at the command of their concupiscence, to endure all labors and dangers for the obtaining of it; and to what purpose? surely that they may fil their chests with treasures, and empty their minds of peace and security; gain gold, and lose their sleep. To which purpose one saith, that covetousness desireth gold, sorrowful labor findeth it out, and carking care keepeth it: It is the matter of labors, perilous to the possessors, a weakener of virtue, an ill master, and treacherous servant; no man thinketh that he hath it safe, unless he always hide it, because it shineth to the owners destruction; in darkness it is sought, and it is kept in darkness. And the reason of all these miseries is, because men make idols of their wealth, and love it out of measure; neither can that be securely possessed which is excessively ouerualued; whereas if loving God above all, they could in all estates be content with that which pleaseth him: if in the time of prosperity and plenty, they would learn the vanity of abundance, and make poverty familiar unto them, not only by meditation, but by accustoming and inuring themselves to endure some want, they would enjoy their riches with much more security, and entertain poverty, if it happen to seize upon them, with much more patience and contentation.

And thus have I shown the care and fear which accompany riches in their possession. Now let us consider of some miserable effects which issue from them both; as first through this care and fear they deprive their bodies of rest, and their minds of peace and quietness. For as the Wise man speaketh, the abundance of the rich will not suffer him to sleep. Whom the son of Sirach imitating, saith, that waking after riches pineth away the body, and the care thereof driveth away sleep; • his waking care breaketh the sleep, as a great sickness breaketh it. For their concupiscence keepeth them waking, whilst it forceth them to tire their thoughts in plotting how they may keep their own store, or get other men's, and so turn their sufficiency into abundance, no less vexing their souls with envy when they see other men's state hastily increase, then with sorrow because their own standeth at a stay, or goeth backward: one while sorrowing because the earth not yielding fruitful increase nor sufficient plenty, they have not enough; another while no less grieving at y ^e great abundance of all commodities, because the market falling, they cannot sell their own at their own rates, bewailing all that as loss wherein they come short of their greedy expectation. In which respect one truly saith, that when the love of riches is excessive & insatiable, they much more torment the soul with greedy desire, then they do refresh it with any comfortable use; and whilst a man too much leaneth towards them in love, they failing him, he slideth and falleth into grief and sorrow. He who findeth them loseth his rest, for when he waketh he thinketh of increase, and when he sleepeth he dreameth of thieves; he is afflicted in the day▪ fearful in the night, and always in want and beggary, continually robbing himself of rest, for fear lest at any time he should be robbed of his riches. So also they load themselves with unsupportable burdens; and as the Prophet speaketh, with thick clay: and as birds of heavy bodies cannot fly though they have wings, being pressed down with their own weight; so though worldly misers have souls and minds which might carry them into heaven in spiritual meditations; yet the burden of their wealth, and their worldly concupiscence, will not suffer them to rise, but presseth them down groveling unto the earth. Which burden (as one saith) is now more unseasonable, in that it being the time of warfare, and our enemies still in field, it is altogether unmeet before the battle be ended to load our selves with spoils, which will make us unfit to continue the fight; but after we have obtained the victory, then may we securely enjoy our treasures. Moreover, with their cares, fears, and restless watching, they weaken their strength, and bring upon themselves sickness, and untimely death, and all for the obtaining of such trifling vanities, as are not worth the labor in seeking and trouble in keeping them; in which respect their earnest endeavors, are fitly by the Prophet compared to the weaving of the spiders web, in making whereof she cōsumeth her own entrails, & being finished, it is good for nothing but to catch flies; so covetous men wear out themselves with cares and labors, for the obtaining of gold and silver, and when they have them, break their rest, and oftentimes their hearts in keeping them, having for all their pains, cares, and fears no return of true profit; nor anymore good by all their travels, then their bags and chests wherein they keep their money, which are but worn out, and sometime broken open for the siluers sake which they keep in custody. Finally, by their cares and fears they make themselves of masters and owners, keepers and iaylors of their riches, or rather in truth fellow prisoners; for not the limbs but the heart is bound with these golden chains, and whilst they lock up their gold in their iron bard chests, their minds also are imprisoned with it.

And thus have I shown that those who keep their riches with immoderate love, do together with them harbor many miseries. The which should serve as an effectual persuasion to wean our hearts from the excessive love of these miserable vanities, and to make us affect with our hartiest desires the rich treasures of God's spiritual graces, and heavenly joys, which bring comforts without cares, because all our cares are cast upon God, who careth for us; and true happiness without the mixture of any misery. To make us loath these vain and worldly riches, which (as Zophar speaketh) filling us with abundance, fill us also with pain; and to be more in love with those heavenly treasures, which we shall securely enjoy without any perturbation of our rest. Or if our affections cannot be withdrawn from this earthly mammon, let us as our Savior Christ exhorteth us, labor to make friends of it, which we may do if we use it friendly, and love it truly, as it ought to be loved, and we to love. Now riches are truly loved when we use them in their kind, and according to their own nature, helping them forward to the attaining of their chief and best end, for which they were created; even as we are said to love books best, when we even wear them out with studying; and meat best, when with a good stomach we feed upon it; and our neighbors best, when we move them to glorify God in their salvation; because these are the main ends for which they were made. But the chief end of riches is that we may glorify God in their use; as when we employ part of them to the necessary and sufficient maintenance of our selves, and those who are committed to our charge; and that which remaineth, to the relieving, feeding and clothing of the poor members of Jesus Christ, which is the main end of our plenty and superfluity; from which end also they have their name, being called goods, because they enable us to do good, and are the instruments of well doing: and therefore they who hinder them of these ends, and will not use them according to their own nature, which is to do good, by being communicated to those who stand in need, but keep them fast locked up (as it were) in close prison, not suffering their gold and silver to be at liberty, which were created and ordained to be (as we also call them) currant money, passing from man to man, as need requireth, they can neither be said to love their riches, nor yet themselves; because altering their use and nature, they make them to degenerate, and ceasing to be good and profitable, they cause them through their abuse to be hurtful and pernicious. In which respect they are compared to bandogs, which are most fierce when they are tied up, but gentle when they are set at liberty; and to rivers, which if they be suffered to have their natural course in their own current, they run quietly and do much good to the whole country, but if any will stop their course, as desiring to engross them to his own use, they rage and swell, break down their banks, and drown all that are about them: or unto springing fountains, which if they may purify and cleanse themselves by sending out their pirling streams, they continue clear and sweet, but if their issue be dammed up, and they made a standing pool, their water putrifieth and corrupteth: so if we suffer riches to have their natural course, like streams issuing from us, by communication and Christian liberality, and to fill the empty places which are in their way, they will retain their natural purity and perfection, being used in their kind; but if we imprison and hord them up, they will corrupt and become unprofitable, yea in truth noisome, hurtful and pernicious: thus clothes laid up become moth-eaten, corn reserved over-long, becometh mustie and unsavory; meat kept past due time putrifieth and stincketh, and coin it self being hoarded up and not used, loseth it beauty and brightness, and is fretted with rust and canker; and that which is worst of all, these moth-eaten garments, corrupted riches, and cankered gold and silver, shall be a witness against those who thus abuse them, eat their flesh as fire, and for their false and wrongful imprisonment, shall cast them into the prison of utter darkness, as our Savior Christ and his holy Apostle have plainly taught us.

If therefore we truly love riches, or our selves, let us not by hording them up increase our own cares and fears, and hinder them of their right use and end; but let us so dispose of them, as they may be most safe, and we most secure; they preserved in their natural perfection, and we benefited by their fruition. Now this we shall do if we enjoy part of them to our own comfort, and communicate the overplus to the good of others, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and relieving those who any way stand in need. For we lose these earthly riches in keeping them, and keep them in bestowing them; if we give them we shall ever enjoy them; if we reserve them, we shall surely lose them; seeing we cannot long continue with them; for either they shall be taken from us, or we from them, carrying nothing with us out of the world, but returning naked as we came into it. So that if we would have these perishing things permanent unto us, we must give them that we may always have them; and leave them for a time, that we may enjoy them forever. For as the Wise man saith, if we cast our bread upon the face of the waters, after many days we shall find it; if we give unto the poor, we lend unto the Lord, and he will recompense and repay us that which we have given. So our Savior telleth us, that if we give to the poor we shall have heavenly treasures. And the Apostle teacheth us, that those who be rich in good works, and ready to distribute and communicate, do lay up in store for themselves a good foundation against the time to come and obtain eternal life. If therefore we so love our riches, as that we would eternally possess them, let us not hoard them up in the earth, where we are sure to leave them, carrying nothing with us but the canker of our coin, which shall bear witness against us at the day of judgment; but let us send them before us unto heaven, delivering them to the poor who are God's factors and receivers; and so having conveyed and made over our goods (as it were) by bills of exchange, we shall find the Lord a sure and all-sufficient pay-master, who will give us more then double vsance, and yet pay us at the first sight. If we would have our corn continue sweet and good for a great space, let us know that there are for this purpose no garners cōparable to poor men's stomachs, which will preserve our grain for our use unto life eternal: if we would have our clothes preserved from moths, and to last long, the backs of the naked are our safest wardrops: if we would keep our gold and silver from rusting and cankering, let us commit it to the custody of the poor, and they will not only keep it bright, but become our porters to carry it before us unto heaven; whereas whatsoever they bear not for us we shall surely leave behind us. In a word, if we would be rich truly and eternally, let us as our Savior Christ counselleth us, not lay up our treasures upon the earth, where the moth and canker corrupt, and where thieves dig through and steal, but let us lay up our treasures in heaven, whereas they shall be securely safe from all these dangers. And as elsewhere he exhorteth us, let us sell that we have, and give alms, and so make us bags which wax not old, lay up a treasure in heaven which can never fail, where no thief cometh, nor moth corrupteth. And if we look to find rich treasures when we come to our heavenly country, we must not give it pinchingly & with a sparing hand, but send it before us in great plenty; if we will there be rich in glory, we must be here rich in good works, imitating our bountiful God, who giveth us abundantly all things to enjoy, as the Apostle speaketh; if we will find there a fruitful harvest of joy and happiness, our seed time must not be niggardly and sparing, for as the same Apostle saith, he which so • eth sparingly▪ shall reap sparingly; and he that soweth liberally, shall reap also liberally. The which liberality is not to be measured according to the greatness of the thing given, simply considered; but as it is compared to his estate that giveth it, and proceedeth from a free and bountiful heart, in which respect the poor widows mite, and the cup of cold water given by him that hath no better thing to bestow, shall have as rich a reward, as he that giveth much out of his abundance: but as our alms are fully in proportion to match our estates, so they are not to exceed them; for the Apostle giveth us this rule, that we must lay up for these charitable uses, according as God prospereth us; and not whilst we relieve others, bring our selves and those who depend upon us to want and beggary. And as we are to moderate our alms with Christian wisdom and discretion, lest we lavishly pour out, instead of liberal giving; and by our present pro • u • enesse in wasting the stock, disable our selves for the time to come; so we are much more carefully to take heed, that we do not withhold from the poor that which our state will well bear, nor give less then our ability will presently afford, for fear of wanting our selves in time to come; seeing this were but to bewray our diffidence and distrust in God's bountiful providence, yea and after that he hath given us a pawn and pledge of his liberal love in providing for us sufficient store: from whence we might conclude, that as God hath already furnished us with necessary and convenient plenty, so (as the Apostle saith) he is still • ble to make all grace to abound towards us, that we always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound in every good work. To say nothing of their extreme folly, who upon a causeless suspicion, and diffi • ent • ear, neglect these works of mercy, seeing hereby they certainly deprive themselves of the eternal joys of heaven, upon an uncertain fear of wanting hereafter those temporary trifles; and without all doubt cast themselves into the torments of hell: for as true, as truth it self hath spoken it, those who have not fed the hungry, given drink to the thirsty, clothod the naked, and lodged the harborless, shall at the day of judgment hear that fearful sentence passing on them; Depart from me ye cursed into e • erlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat, &c. Euc • as contrariwise those who have performed these deeds of charity, shall with infinite comfort have their Judge and Savior pronounce that joyful sentence; Come ye blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you, from the foundations of the world, &c.

And therefore if we will escape this curse, and be partakers of this blessing, let us not with carnal worldlings take all our delight in possessing abundance; and as it were in burying our selves under an huge heap of this worldly dross, hiding these lent talents, and not employing them to the glory of our master, and good of our fellow servants; but let us liberally communicate of our store to those tha • stand in need. Which that we may do with more cheerfulness, let us further consider that herein we shall approve our selves to be children of our heavenly father, seeing we resemble him in his bounty and liberality, giving abundantly according to our ability to the relief of all that want our help; and that we take hereby the best course to rid our selves of carking care, and unquiet fears of losing these things which we so much love, seeing we have laid them up in heaven, where they shall safely be kept for us, as it were, o 〈…〉 o 〈…〉 gunshot of any danger. Let us call to mind that it is a more happy thing to give then to receive, and that those who are most liberal in bestowing alms, do hereby obtain far greater benefits then they upon whom they are bestowed; for they give transitory trifles, but shall be recompensed with eternal treasures, as it is written, he hath sparsed abroad, and hath given to the poor, his benevolence remaineth forever: his horn shall be exalted with glory. They bestow single benefits, but they shall have them returned an hundred fold, and have everlasting life to boot. And therefore if we truly love our money, and be wisely covetous, let us fall into the practice of this Christian usury, which will not only bring us in for gain ten in the hundred, but an hundred for ten, yea an hundred for one; so as we may well say with the son of Sirach, that if we bestow our treasures after the commandment of the most high, it shall bring us more profit th • n our gold. Neither is there any cause why we should suspect our payment, seeing he who hath promised it, is true and all-sufficient, and never failed of his word. If therefore men be willing to commit their seed to the ground in hope of a fruitful harvest, though there be many accidents often happening which frustrate their expectation; if they can be content in hope of a little gain to trust out their wares and goods to such as they think sufficient, though they are often mistaken and deceived of all; how intolerable is their diffidence, who dare not give credit unto the Lord, promising them to repay that which they lend him with such infinite increase, but rather let their seed wax mustie in their garners, then they will employ it in this spiritual husbandry, and repose more confidence in unable and deceitful men, then in the most true and all-sufficient God?

And thus have I shown the cares, fears, and manifold miseries which accompany riches in their possession, as also some means whereby we may be unburdened of them. It followeth that I ad briefly a word or two of worldly pleasures, which as they are gotten with labor and pain, so they are kept with much trouble and fear. For what care do they bring to those who set their hearts on them to continue them so, that they may neither be wanting to their appetite, nor their appetite to them? How curiously do they diet themselves one day, that the day following they may be more able, and (as it were) better breathed, to run on in their voluptuous courses? How discontented are they when having pleasures they can take no pleasure in them, because they are cloyed, and have already surfeited of their delights? How are they vexed if they do not answer their expectation, nor please their wanton pallet, when as oftentimes there is no want in their pleasures, but because they being glutted with satiety cannot relish them? How are they turmoiled whilst they feel an inward conflict between voluptuousness, and desire of honor, and stand in fear lest by enjoining their pleasures, they lose their credit and reputation, when either they are in themselves unlawful, or in their use immoderate? What inward pangs feel they, when their consciences tell them that their voluptuous courses will not agree with religion, and the fear of God, no nor yet with civility and common honesty? and what remorse and stings of repentance do they endure, when the sweetness of their pleasures are overpast; though they are so bewitched with these pleasing sorceries, that with the drunkard in the Proverbs, after they have found themselves sick, and surfeited of their delights, and even beaten with the scourges of many miseries, they continue in their voluptuous courses, and with no less fondness then before dote upon their pleasures? Finally, whereas the temperate man who hath learned to abound and to want, doth securely enjoy his delights, as not greatly valuing them, because he can as well be without them as with them; contrariwise he that is voluptuous, having set his heart upon these bewitching vanities, and made an idol of his pleasures, is in continual fear of losing that which he so much loveth; and when he aboundeth with those things which his heart desireth, his rejoicing is not so great in their fruition, as his fears, ielousies, and suspicions, lest in time to come, he should be deprived of them. And howsoever these carnal pleasures are but base vanities and childish • oies; yet men setting their hearts upon them, they become great, not in themselves, but in opinion, which is the chief measure of worldly excellency. Which opinion as it maketh them to enjoy them with love; so it causeth them to keep them with fear; like little children, which with no less care watch over their worthless trifles, then if they were the most precious jewels, and richest treasures.

But having sufficiently shown the miseries which are incident unto these worldly things, whilst they are in custody and possession; let us now in the last place consider, that as they are gotten with labor, and kept with care, so they are lost with sorrow and bitter grief; for men having advanced them infinitely above their worth, both in their judgment and affection, and made them their Idols, upon whom they have wholly set their hearts; when they are deprived of them they bewail their loss no less; yea in truth much more bitterly, and with far greater passion, then if they had lost all part and interest in God himself, his Son Jesus Christ, and all those glorious joys in his heavenly kingdom. And having reposed in them all their joy and comfort, their hope and confidence, when with Laban they are robbed of their idols, they lament their loss with more true grief, and sustain this burden with much more impatiency, then if they were at once spoiled of their wife, children, and all their friends; because they are together with them robbed also of their hearts, which are fast nailed, and inseparablie affixed to them. Neither in this case is the worth of the thing lost to be considered, but the affection and estimation of him that loseth it; for those things which are possessed with immoderate love, are lost with immoderate grief, although in themselves they are vain and worthless: even as we see little children lamenting with no less true sorrow the taking away of their childish and contemptible trifles, then if they were deprived of their inheritance. So in like manner, worldly men ouerualuing earthly vanities above their worth, are more tormented with grief when they are forced to forgo them, then for losing the glorious inheritance of the faints, and the eternal joys of heaven. Yea their sorrow is so intolerable oftentimes, that to ease their grief, they murder themselves; as thinking less torment in death, yea in hell it self, then in living to sustain so great a loss. For the greater they conceited their happiness in the fruition of their vain desires, the more miserable they think themselves when they are deprived of it; and now they heartily wish that they had never enjoyed these pleasures, because at the last they are spoiled of them; though in truth with great folly, for they having had formerly the fruition of their desires, might, were it not for their own peevishness, still delight themselves with the remembrance of it, and when they are most destitute and forsaken of the things they loved, they are (setting passion and opinion aside) in no worse case, then before they had them: yea sometime men are thus afflicted with bitter sorrow, when as they are deprived but of some small part of these worldly things, though they have still the greatest share left behind; neither can their great remainder so much delight them, as their little loss grieveth them, as though their joy and comfort were bound jointly to all, and severally to every part of these vanities, so that if any part be wanting, a forfeiture must presently be made of the whole sum: wherein they may fitly be compared to little children, who though they have twenty trifles wherewith they play, yet if but one of them be taken away without their consent, do presently fall a crying, and in a moodie discontent cast away all the rest, taking no delight in many, unless they may still have all: yea oftentimes it cometh to pass, that though they make but mean account of a thing whilst they have it, yet they value it when they must forgo it, beginning then only to love it, when they lose it, and highly to esteem it, when they can keep it no longer. And as their damage indeareth their affection, so answerablie it increaseth their sorrow; and the arguments which they gather to amplify the greatness of their loss, are so many quarrels against their own quietness, and so many motives to augment and aggravate their impatiency and grief. In all which respects worldly men have much more sorrow for the loss of these earthly vanities, then ever they had comfort in enjoying them, and after their false and counterfeit joys, sustain true and piercing grief: and that which is worst of all, this worldly sorrow hath no comfort attending on it, but as the Apostle telleth us, it bringeth death, and that not only of body, but of soul also, unless they have grace to bebewaile this grief, and be heartily sorry, that they have so sorrowed.

And as these things are of undoubted truth in all other worldly things; so especially in honors, riches and pleasures; for how uncomfortably doth the ambitious man grieve, and with what impatiency doth he sustain his loss, if he be deprived of his honors and preferments? how much more bitterly and heartily doth he bewail it, then the death of his first borne or nearest friends? yea how much rather had he die himself, then to live disgraced, though it be but in the opinion only of his own consorts? And though he have many preferments, and much glory in the world, what comfort doth he take in all the rest, if he be deprived but of one, yea if he come short of his hopes where he thought to obtain; losing that which he never had, but only in conceit? So the covetous man bewaileth his lost riches, as if he had lost himself; and that not out of passion only, but out of an ill grounded judgment, which maketh him so to esteem them, as though all his good and happiness consisted in having them, and all ill and misery in their want; and hence it is that in their usual phrase of speech they say when wealth is conferred on them, that they are made, and when it is taken away that they are undone, or (as it were) unmade again; judging, that in having, or not having riches, their making or marring chiefly consisteth: yea so fast hold doth their immoderate love of this earthly Mammon take of them, that they can more ease • lie part with their souls then part with it, as we may see in the example of the rich man in the Gospel, who when he could learn of our Savior no other means to be saved, then by parting with all and following him, he went away sorrowful for the loss of his soul, but yet resolved to keep his wealth. And such as their love is whilst they have it, so such is their grief when they are forced to leave it, and that not only when they lose all, but also some small part or portion of it, in regard whereof, he who hath the greatest riches, hath also most plentiful matter of sorrow and grief; because in such abundance, and so many particulars which are all casual, some things must of necessity every hand while miscarry, the loss whereof so much & often troubleth him, that it were much better for him, that he had never had them, then to sustain such grief in losing them. Neither can the greatness of their estates lessen their sorrow when any loss befalleth them: for as one said wittily; An hairy man doth with no less pain suffer his hair to be pulled off, then he who is almost bald; and a wound bringeth as much grief to a Giant, as to a Dwarfe; and so in like manner it is all one, whether a covetous man hath much or little, because his heart adhering, and being as it were fast glued to his wealth, the pain is all alike when it is pulled from him. And this maketh men so impatient to think of parting with their riches, that they are ready with • he Heathen, when they make their will, to make themselves their own heirs, and to bequeath unto themselves their own possessions. The like also may be said of voluptuous pleasures, which howsoever they be but childish toys, and of small worth; yet those who set their hearts upon them, are vexed with no small sorrow, when they are deprived of them, and howsoever they had never any good by them in their fruition, either in respect of soul or body; yet being inured to them, they bewail the loss of their company with bitter grief: and whereas men remember their crosses, dangers, and troubles, with great comfort and contentment, when they are once past; contrariwise the greater their passed pleasure have been, the more bitter sorrow they bring to their hearts when they think upon them.

And thus have I shown not only that all worldly things are mixed with, but also in themselves full of miseries. The consideration whereof, as it should wean our hearts from the immoderate love of these vanities, which howsoever at the first they seem sweet and pleasant, yet their after-taste is full of bitterness; and though they be crusted over with a thin rind of sugared delights, yet that being presently melted away, as soon as it is relished, the whole body and substance that remaineth, is no better, or more pleasing to our taste then gall or wormwood: so on the other side it should move us highly to esteem, and chiefly to affect, and seek God's spiritual graces in this life, and heavenly glory in the life to come, seeing the former in themselves are free from miseries, and leave no after-tang behind them; but howsoever at the first taste they seem a little bitter to flesh and blood, yet the more we feed upon them, the more sweet they will be unto us, until at last having made them the ordinary diet of our souls, they will taste more sweetly and delicately, then the honey or the honey comb, as the Prophet David spake by good experience; and so they will not only delight us in themselves, but relish our mouths when they are distasted with the bitterness of worldly miseries. And for the other they are not only in themselves sweet and pleasant, but also free from the mixture of all worldly evils, not tainted with the least trouble, nor distasted with the smallest grief; for then all tears shall be wiped from our eyes, and all matter of mourning ceasing, we shall be replenished with fullness of joy, and be even ravished with those happy pleasures which are at God's right hand for evermore: which if we would truly seek, we should surely find, and attain unto them with far less labor, then we spend in compassing worldly vanities; and having obtained them, we shall securely possess them without trouble, care or fear; and never have cause to bewail their loss, because they are eternal, and shall never be taken from us.

CHAP. XXVI.

That though with all our endeavors we seek for worldly things, we are not sure to obtain them.

HAuing shown the manifold miseries which accompany worldly things: it followeth that according to my general order propounded, I come to the next main argument, which may dissuade any from the immoderate love of the world and worldly vanities; which is their great uncertainty in respect of those who desire, and set their hearts upon them; for though it were imagined, that the things of the world which men hunt after with such hungry appetites, were in themselves truly good, and of great worth and excellency; profitable to those that have them, so long as they keep them in their possession; and exempted from all the former miseries; yet were there great reason why we should contemn and despise them, in comparison of God's spiritual graces and heavenly joys; and why we should give these the preeminence far above them in our judgments, and in our affection and practice with much more fervency and earnestness love and seek them; seeing these are certain and permanent, and the other most uncertain and tickle, and that both in respect of getting and keeping them. For though we should use all endeavor, and spend all our strength in seeking and searching for these worldly things, we are not sure with all our labor to obtain them: And though we should get them into our possession, yet have we no assurance to retain and keep them. Concerning the former, we find by continual experience that the sweat of worldlings is not always fruitful, but after that they have beaten their brains, wearied their bodies, and consumed their strength with working, watching, and continual carking and caring; yet are they oftentimes at the end of their lives, as far from the end of all their labors, as when they first began. We see many daily like greedy kites, snatching and striking continually at the prey, and yet miss of it after all their earnest endeavors, howsoever many times they pierce themselves upon the pikes of temptations and sin, which Satan like a cunning fowler hath hidden under these worldly baits for their destruction. And howsoever these worldly prodigals being poor, beg • lie, and empty of heavenly riches and spiritual grace, do desire to fill their bellies, and appease their raging hunger, by feeding upon the draff and mast of worldly vanities, yet no man giving them, they lose their longing. Neither is this any great wonder: for all in the world is nothing near sufficient to afford plenty of these things so much desired, to all that seek them; and therefore the same thing having many competitors, it must of necessity fall out as it doth in hunting, that one starteth the game, and another catcheth it; and as the proverb is, a man cannot thrive for throng of his neighbors. Yea in truth, themselves do cross themselves, their desires being contrary one to another, as affecting things which will not stand together; for at once they would take their pleasures, and heap up riches, and be glorious in the world for their bounty and liberality, and so griping more then they can hold, oftentimes they retain but little, and sometime lose all. And as when diverse contrary winds meet, they cause a whirl wind, whereby all is scattered and dispersed: so they entertaining desires, the one crossing and conflicting with another, they scatter those things which they desire to gather. Thus the voluptuous man would enjoy his pleasures and his riches too; but as ths Wise man saith, he that loveth pastime shall be a poor man, and he that loveth wine and oil, shall not be rich: and losing his wealth he commonly also loseth his delights, having nothing left to maintain his pleasures. But the chief reason of all is, because they making idols of their own wit, providence, industry, and labor; trusting in them more then in God, and sacrificing unto them the chiese praise of all their welfare; the Lord jealous of his own glory, crosseth them in their courses, and bringeth all their counsels and endeavors to naught. And this reason the Prophet Haggai yieldeth why the Israelites labored in vain, and failed of all their hopes, because the Lord would not suffer them to prosper in their enterprises. Ye have sown much (saith he) and bring in little; ye look after many things, and yet attain unto few; for that which ye did bring home, I did blow upon it, &c. The which God doth sometime in justice, not suffering wicked mē who have forsakē him to enjoy either the things of this life, or the life to come. And sometimes in mercy he causeth these husks and draff of worldly vanities, to be withheld from his prodigal children, that very penury and hunger may enforce them to return to their heavenly father, and wanting this swine's meat of earthly trash, they may desire and long after that sufficient food wherewith he feedeth his own family, even his spiritual graces, and eternal joys.

It is true indeed that the world like a bad palmaster promiseth most, when it performeth least; and the prince of the world making a m • ster of many worldly vanities, saith unto men as he said to our Savior, all these will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me: but when the work being finished, the wages is expected; at the day of payment, either they have a come again, or a flat denial; either they are beaten and punished as not having well performed their work; or when there is no such exceptions to be taken, they must be content to take their wages with great abate ments, or receive for currant silver, counterfeit slips and copper money. For sometimes the world and the prince thereof use their servants as they use the silly Indians, cruelly whipping them, when with great superstition they have performed unto them their blind devotions; or as the Egyptians used the Israelites, unmercifully beating them at night, when they had tired themselves with their days labor. And though when they set them awork they promise them good things, yet when it is finished they pay them with evil. For example, they promise long life, and continual health, when as oftentimes there follweth grievous diseases, and immature death; they promise rest, and behold disquietness; they promise them honors, and pay them with disgraces; they promise riches and abundance, and reward them with penury and want; they undertake that they shall lead their life in all joys and pleasing delights, when as they find nothing but grie • e, trouble, and vexation of spirit. In a word, when they hire them into their service, they promise that if they will be at their command, there shall no wages part them, that they shall lead their life in a golden age, and have in all things contentment, and their desires fully satisfied; when as notwithstanding all these fair promises they spend all their days in sorrow and discontent. Sometimes they delude and abuse them, giving shadows instead of substances; and (as it is said of some witches) they give them silver in show, but leaves in deed. Or as cunning iuglers, having offered them something which they think worth the having, when delivery is to be made, they nimblie convey it away, and chop into their laps some base trifle. Dealing herein with their servants, as Laban with Jacob, who having undertaken seven years painful service for his beloved Rachel, received lothed Leah, for the reward of his labor; for after all that flauish service which they perform for them, even to the hazarding of body and soul to eternal destruction, they have for their wages either contemptible trifles, or but then some gifts. In which respect as Satan 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 and the world are to be accounted deceitful paimasters; so their wages are justly called false and deceitful vanities, which make some show of good when they are offered, but are nothing worth when they are received. So the Psalmist saith: I have hated them which give themselves to deceitful vanities, for I trust in the Lord.

And yet though Satan and the world do commonly abuse men with these false rewards, and draw them on with deceitful hopes to do them service; and though they have often found their fraud by their own experience, and have even daily been deluded by their fair promises, and disappointed of their expected rewards; yet are the more ready to believe them still upon their often falsified word, then the Lord himself who never failed of his promises, and is almighty to perform, though he hath committed his covenant and promises to writing, confirmed them by his seals, and further ratified them by his never deceuing oath; and are more ready to do service to these deceitful masters, upon a vain hope of these uncertain rewards, then unto the king of heaven and earth, who offereth to assure them of the eternal joys of heaven, though he be as far from deceiving, as from being deceived. Yea in truth so do we naturally dote upon these earthly vanities, because they are subject to our senses, and put us in some hope of present possession, that we need not Satan's sorceries, nor the worlds witchcrafts to deceive us; seeing we are ready without their help to abuse our selves with vain hopes, and to be still in love with the world and worldly vanities, not for that we had, or presently have, but for that we expect in time to come. And thus are we content to spend our li • es in hoping well, and feeling evil, still expecting better, though we find it daily worse, until death coming, depriveth us of our worldly hopes, together with our lives. And that which seemeth unto me (if it were not so common) like unto a miracle, men still entertain these deceiving hopes, not only against reason and sense, but even against the common experience which they have had in others, both which have gone before them, and now live with them; yea which they have had in themselves from time to time; still hoping for better, till they cease to be. And though having past a great part of their life they have found no cause why they should desire to live; yea have enjoyed so small comfort and been turmoiled with so many miseries, that if it were put to their choice they would not care to live, if they might live no better; yet in hope of amending their estate, and of attainning unto some new happiness, which they have not yet enjoyed; they are in love with life and the world still; though commonly they never obtain the things hoped for; or if they do, yet they have their new hopes so attended on with new miseries, that when they come they bring little comfort: for upon the access of new benefits which they have long desired, either they lose the old, which were more in number and better in worth; or else are overtaken with some vnthought of evils, which diswelcome their new-come guests, and turn all their sweet into gall and bitterness. And as those who travel, though they have found the ways which they have already passed, foul and uncomfortable, and those in which they presently are, no more fair and pleasant, yet casting their eyes a good distance before them, and seeing the fields green and plain in show, conceive hope of amendment, and imagine that they shall end their journey with more delight; but all in vain: for when they come unto it, they find the ground wet and rotten, and many slowes and lakes which before they approached them, they could not discover: so we travailing in our pilgrimage, and having in our travel experience of the miseries which we have found in our childhood and youth; seeing before us riper and elder age seemingly pleasant, in respect of that plenty and authority which doth accompany them, together with the comforts of wife and children, and such other benefits; do presently conceive a deceiving hope of some future happiness, when we shall enjoy those things which so long before we did expect: but often we are altogether frustrate of our desires, or if we attain unto them, we find the fair field in show to be nothing in proof but bogs and marish grounds; and that the life which we so much liked, is so full of cares and fears, troubles and discontents, infirmities and aches, sicknesses and diseases, that we are ready upon trial to conclude, that we have but exchanged the frying-pan for the fire, and that as in a quagmire, whilst we have gotten one foot out of the dirt, the other is faster and deeper in. Now what reason there is why men should after this manifold experience both in themselves and others, still deceive themselves with vain hopes, I can render no other, but that they for their own parts are willing to be thus deceived, and dare not expect that which in truth they are to find, lest their life should be altogether uncomfortable and miserable before the time, when as they have not so much as hope to assist thē, & make their burdens tolerable: and therefore rather then they will have no hope to bear them company in their miseries, they are ready to admit of such as are deceiveable and ill grounded; that these false hopes may bring unto them some true comforts, and small refreshings, though they continue only for the present. And God for his part is contented to let them continue in this blindness or willful winking; and to have these false and deceiving hopes always attending on them; that wicked men abusing themselves with their own sophistry, may go on in their courses to their perdition; and whilst they hope to attain unto these worldly things which they so dotingly love, never labor to attain unto better hopes, nor to assure themselves of everlasting happiness; and partly that they might not hurt human society, nor in despair lay violent hands upon themselves, when as they should be forsaken of all hope to receive contentment, either in things appertaining to this life or the life to come. Yea and whereas God's dearest servants being partly flesh and partly spirit, as they have the spiritual part cheered and comforted in the time of their pilgrimage, with the assured hopes of future happiness, so the fleshly part admitteth of no refreshing or contentment, but that which is received from things present; therefore God thought it fit to suffer them also to entertain some worldly hopes, lest the flesh being utterly frustrate of it chiese desires, might with excessive murmuring, repining and discontent, be too heavy a clog to the spiritual man, and too much discomfort him in his way to heaven, being to travel as in a desolate wilderness, and having no hope of convenient lodging, and comfortable entertainment as he is going on his journey. Whereas having for the present but an ill welcome to the world, and many an hungry meal and hard lodging, yet still being in hope of better, it less struggleth and resisteth, but suffereth him to go on, if not with more patience and agreement, yet with less impatiency and opposition.

And thus you see that though we should set our minds upon these worldly things, and pursue them with all our endeavors and desires, yet we are not sure to attain unto them. But I may add further, that those who earnestly labor after these vanities, do not only many times fail of their hopes, but do therefore fail most commonly because of their too great earnestness, their too much desire hindering their obtaining the thing desired, and their overmuch haste in running after the things they dote upon, making them to have but the worse speed, whilst either they fall for want of taking heed, or run past the goal at unawares, whilst with vnprouident eagerness they think to prevent all others. Wherein we may see the Wise man's observation verified, I returned (saith he) and I saw under the Sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, &c. For those who grasp most greedily these waterish vanities, do hold least of them in their hands; and they who serve the world with all pains, and laborious industry, are oftentimes by this unthankful master punished for their overmuch diligence, and lose their reward, because they have been too earnest in their business, and over labored themselves in doing their work, having now only their labor for their pains, and instead of their wished wages, nothing else but grief and misery. Others there are whom the world seemeth to use with more favor in the beginning, not only giving them entertainment with a smiling countenance, but also putting earnest into their hands, and after some service done unto it, paying them liberally (as it were) their first quarters wages: but after they (being encouraged with this liberal pay) do with more diligence perform their business, in hope of greater reward, for their greater labor, it quite frustrateth them of their hopes, and not only denieth to give them more, but also taketh from them that they have. For how many are there, who by their moderate labors having gotten many things, do in more eager seeking after more, lose that which they already have? How many do we see daily before our eyes, who lose their certainties, whilst they labor for uncertainties, and not thinking that they have enough, when they have too much, do in over reaching catch a spreine, and whilst they greedily seek after superfluities, do lose not their sufficiency alone, but even necessaries? And this cometh to pass, not only because the world is unfaithful and unthankful to those that serve it, but also because it is impotent and insufficient: for howsoever it is ready (like Satan the prince thereof) to undertake great matters, and to make large promises, that it may move men to leave the Lord, and lean unto it, yet the truth is, that though it were willing, yet it is altogether unable to perform; for the earth is the Lord's, and all that therein is, and he giveth to the sons of men, as it seemeth best to his infinite wisdom: so that though the world brag never so much of it possessions, and great ability; and proudly arrogating unto it self God's royal privileges, doth what it can to rob him of his right; yet the truth is, that it hath not the worth of a penny at absolute command, because even the least matters are governed and disposed by divine providence; neither is it the painful indeuors of greedy worldlings, that can compass the things which they so much desire; seeing they wholly proceed from the blessing of God; for as the Psalmist hath taught us, Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it; and except the Lord keepeth the city, the keeper watcheth in vain: and therefore the world oftentimes (like a needy and bare master, who notwithstanding his poverty, standeth much upon his credit and reputation) dodgeth and paltreth with his servants, when in truth it hath nothing to pay, and deceitfully picketh quarrels with them, after long service sending them away empty handed, because by reason of it poverty it is not able to give them their wages. Whereby the way we may note the miserable servitude of a wretched worldling; for God will not reward him because he hath renounced his service, and the world cannot, having nothing to dispose of; only it cosoneth him with base shifts, and with alluring promises enticeth him to spend his strenghth in vain, having after all his painful service nothing to bestow upon him.

But the uncertainty of obtaining of worldly things will better appear, if we briefly consider some special instances; for how many ambitious men have we read of, and in our own experience observed, who have most hungerly hunted after honors and preferments; and for reward of all their labors, have received nothing but contempt and disgrace? How many have earnestly striven to enter the gate of honor, whereof some have been trodden under foot in the press, others thrust back by some more strong then themselves, others have stuck fast in the gate by reason of the crowd, and few have entered, besides such as have climbed over other men's sholders, making themselves high by the downfals of other men, and erecting trophees to their own praise, upon the ruins of other men's fame? Will you have examples? The old world would needs build a tower reaching to heaven, that they might get them a name; but it was rightly called Babel, bringing in the end nothing but confusion to them, and their proud building. Absalom whilst he desired to be exalted into the throne, was hanged in a tree; Adonijah aspired to the crown, but because God had not appointed it to be set on his head, he lost both it and his life too: yea our first parents themselves whilst they desired a state above the condition of men, and equal with God himself, they lost their present excellency and made themselves vassals and slaves to the wicked spirits. Others make some little progress in their wished way to honor and preferment, but yet never come to y ^e goal, nor obtain the garland, being either crossed in their course, or fainting for weariness, or tripped up by those y ^t come next after them, who as suddenly fall, as rise, and no sooner make some glorious show, but presently they are again obscured; like unto falling stars, which in the same instant appear and vanish. And that either because they ambitiously hasten, and unseasonably aspire to these honors before their time, desiring to reap the fruit of glory & preferment, before they have sown the seeds of virtue & true desert; whereby they expose themselves to the danger of many oppositions, everyone being ready to hate their pride and to envy their preferment, and to use all means to stop their course in this over great hast: in which they fitly resemble hasty fruits, which blooming before the ordinary time, do seldom come to maturity and ripeness, because either they are nipped with the frosts, or blown off with the tempests. Or else because they aspite to greater preferments then is befitting their gifts, whereby they suddenly burst, because they swell themselves bigger then their skins will hold; and wanting true worth and good parts to support their greatness, they suddenly fall and come to ruin: like unto those who will climb higher then the bows will hold them; or unto such as being weak and feeble, do take upon them heavy burdens. Others desire honor and glory in the world, but yet never attain unto it whilst they live, because presence is an enemy to fame; and therefore many whom the world scarce took notice of whilst it had them, are magnified and extolled when it hath lost them. In which respect honor is fitly called the shadow of virtue; for as the shadow sometime goeth before a man, sometime side by side, sometime followeth after him, and sometime doth not appear at all, as when the sun is set, or obscured with the clouds: so sometime a man is honorable and not virtuous, his glory and fame running before true desert; sometime it accompanieth virtue, and even whilst a man liveth he hath deserved praise; sometime he never heareth in the whole course of his life, that he hath done anything worthy fame, and yet after his death he hath the praise of all; and sometime the best deserts do never in this world come to light, but either being done in obscurity, or obscured through others envy, or the meanness of the agent; they forever lie: hid, till at the day of judgment the God of light doth open and discover them. Now (as one saith) what is fame after death, but a good gale of wind after shipwreck? Or what good doth it a mā to have spent his whole time in painful labor, and in well deserving; when the unthankful world in his life hath paid him with envy and detraction, though it magnifieth him after his death, seeing he hath not the sense, much less the comfort of his commendations.

But howsoever the world conferreth honor upon few, and that most commonly when it is too late, yet it promiseth it seasonablie unto all; and maketh them believe, that if they will but set their hearts upon it, and ambitiously affect it, they shall surely attain unto it: where as in truth they who most swell with pride, and aspire unto honors with all their endeavors, do most commonly miss of it, and seeking for glory find disgrace; the world using their ambition as the means of their dejection and abasement, which it promised should be the means of their advancement. Wherein as the world showeth it treachery and deceit towards those that faune upon it; so also impotency and insufficiency, in that it is utterly unable to advance men to that glory and dignity which it promiseth. For howsoever possibly the world would be willing and forward enough to give priority to his forward children, and to advance those into the seat of honor, which make most suit, and take the greatest pains to rise; yet it cannot help and raise them as they would, because God crosseth them in their courses, and will not suffer them to aspire unto their proud hopes, but because they will rise of themselves without his help, and attain unto the height of honor by their own means, therefore he meeteth them in the mid way, casting them down again, when they think themselves nearest to advancement, and glorifying his own power and justice, in their ruin and utter disgrace. And this is that which is often threatened against the proud and ambitious in the Scriptures. So the Prophet Isaiah saith: The high look of man shall be humbled, and the loftiness of men shall be abased, and the Lord only shall be exalted in that day. For the day of the Lord of hosts is upon all the haughty, and upon all that is exalted, and it shall be made low. And our Savior Christ threateneth, that whosoever will exalt himself, shall be brought low, and whosoever will humble himself shall be exalted. And the Apostle telleth us, that God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble. So the Virgin Mary speaking out of her own experience, saith, that God hath put down the mighty from their seats, and hath exalted them of low degree. Whereof we have manifold examples in the book of God, as of Corah and his companions; Athaliah, Haman, Herod, Nebuchadnezzar and many others. So that greedy ambition and hungry hunting after honor, is not the means of attaining to it, but rather the high way to disgrace and shame: for as the Wise man saith, the pride of a man shall bring him low, but the humble in spirit shall enjoy glory.

If therefore we would seek true honor and be sure to find it, let us not (no less foolishly then ambitiously) beg it of the world, who hath it not to give, but desire to have it of the Lord, who alone hath it at his disposing. Neither let us seek it of our selves, and by our own ambitious courses; for the Wise man teacheth us, that to search our own glory, is not glory: and even our Savior (who might challenge this privilege better then any man,) affirmeth, that if he honored himfelfe, his honor was nothing worth. And that it was his father that honored him. But let us seek it of God to whom all honor belongeth, and from whom also it proceedeth. For he it is, as Hannah speaketh, that bringeth low and exalteth; he raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth up the beggar from the dunghill, to set them among princes, and to make them inherit the seat of glory, his is greatness and power, glory, victory, and praise; his is the kingdom, and riches, and honor come from him, as David acknowledgeth. So elsewhere he affirmeth, that to come to preforment, is neither from the East, nor from the West, nor from the South; but God is the Judge, who maketh low, and maketh high. Yea even Cyrus though an heathen confesseth; that the Lord God of heaven had given him all the kingdoms of the earth. And contrariwise Balak affirmeth, that he was surely purposed to have promoted Balaam unto honor, but that he could not, because the Lord had put him back, and kept him from it. And therefore seeing it is the Lord alone which both helpeth and hindereth, exalteth and abaseth; of him alone let us seek it, from him let us expect it, and not from the world or worldly men, who though they would, yet cannot bestow it. And if we would seek it from God with hope of obtaining, let us return all glory from our selves unto him, seeing those who honor him he will honor: let us if we would have honor from men, be truly honorable in our selves, being fully replenished with the substance of virtue, piety and good deserts, and so honor like a shadow, even though we be unwilling, will attend upon us. And howsoever we be acquainted with our own good parts, and be full fraught with the rich treasures of virtue and goodness, let us not exalt our selves, nor wax proud of our gifts, remembering that whatsoever we have, it is not our own, but received from God, and therefore the richer we are, the greater are our debts, the greater also our reckoning and account, but let us humble our selves under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt us in due time: for the Lord will make the meek glorious; and if we cast down our selves before him, he will lift us up. An example whereof we have in our Savior Christ, who because he humbled himself, therefore God did highly exalt him, and gave him a name above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, &c. So that if we would have honor to follow, we must let humility go before; if we would be glorious in the sight of others, we must with David be vile in our own esteem, and low in our own eyes; and if we would be highly advanced in the kingdom of heaven, we must become humble like little children, as our Savior hath taught us. Yea in truth this is the way of becoming honorable, not only in the sight of God, but also in the sight of men; for as they are flowest in praising those, who most affect it, and are ready to detract from those who are high in their own conceit: so they magnify them most, who having greatest virtues, have also the greatest humility; and they hold them in greatest admiration, and most willingly attribute unto them the frankest praises, who having well deserved, content themselves with the approbation of God, and testimony of their own consciences, and do not ambitiously affect glory and commendations. As for example, it is not ambitious Caesar, proud Pompey, nor Alexander, greater in his own conceit, then in his conquests, that the world now magnifieth, because it plainly perceiveth that they aimed at this mark in all their actions, and made glory the main end of all their enterprises; but it is the contemned Prophets, poor fishermen, and despised carpenters Son (as they disdainfully termed the most glorious and eternal Son of God) whom it now praiseth and admireth; as plainly discerning that in all their good and virtuous actions, they sought not their own glory, but the glory of God, and the eternal good of mankind. By all which it appeareth that the way of attaining true honor, is not greedily to desire it, but worthily to deserve it, neither doth it always happen unto them who most desiring it, do also best deserve it; but rather unto them who best deserving it, do most avoid it. In which respect honor may fitly be compared to the meteor which is called ignis fatuus, or the going-fire, which flieth the follower, and followeth the flier; or unto a man's shadow, which can no otherwise be catched then by falling down upon it.

And thus have I shown the great uncertainty of obtaining worldly honors, although they be sought with all earnestness. The like also may be said of riches; for howsoever many worldly men do wholly set their hearts upon them, and pursue them with all their desires and endeavors, rising early, and going late to bed, toiling and moiling, deceiving & circumuenting, wronging and oppressing one another, yea defrauding and pinching their backs and bellies, that they may compass great estates, and gather riches in abundance; yet how few of these many do attain unto them? yea how many are there who making this Mammon of iniquity the idol wherein they chiefly trust, do make unto it many a weary pilgrimage, undertaking painful iorneyes, sustaining much penury and misery, and hazarding themselves to innumerable dangers both by sea and land, and all to have their idol favorable and propitious; and yet are turned away with a frowning countenance, and lose all their labor, ending their days in want and poverty? And whereas almost all men spend their whole time and travel in finding out these rich mines, and sails to these golden Indies, for the multiplying of their treasures, yet how few find that they seek? how many in their voyage running themselves on the rocks of adverse accidents, do make shipwreck of their whole estates? and how many having gotten that they sought, are robbed of all when they are returning, and think of nothing but of settling their estates, & of spending the rest of their time in peace & quietness? So that it is not all a man's care and labor that can assure him of these uncertain riches, as the Apostle calleth them; seeing many want them who have sacrificed all their strength and endeavours unto them; and some obtain them with ease and moderate labor, all their great expenses which seem so much loss turning to their advantage, and like seed, which though in outward show it seemeth to be cast away, to rot and perish, yet it returneth a fruitful harvest of plenty and increase. And this the Wise man observed: There is (saith he) that scattereth and is more increased, but he that spareth more then is right shall surely come to poverty. The liberal person shall have plenty, and he that watereth shall have rain. Yea the greater care and pain that a man taketh, and the more eagerly he hasteth to be rich, the further oftentimes he is from his desire, and the nearer to want and misery. So the Wise man also saith, that with a wicked eye a man hasteth unto riches, and knoweth not that poverty shall come upon him. And who observeth not that many having gotten into their possession sufficient store, if they could be content with that which is enough, and yet not being satisfied, do whilst they labor after more, lose that they have, and like the dog in the fable in greedy snatching after a shadow, forgo the substance? In which respect the world oftentimes abuseth and cozeneth men, like those who keep great lotteries; for whilst it encourageth them by propounding hope of great and excessive gain, to hazard those small matters which already they possess, it deciueth them of all, there being an hundred blanks for one good prize, and therefore an hundred to one that he who ventreth, faileth of his desire, and that if he pursue his great, but yet foolish and ill grounded hopes, he will in the end bring his something to nothing, and in coveting that he hath not, lose that which he already hath. And yet so are mens eyes dazzled, and their concupiscence set on fire with the glorious show of some few rich booties, that though not one of a thousand can possibly have them, yet everyone is possessed with a vain hope, that he shall be the man who shall draw the rich lot, and carry away the costly prizes from all the rest.

And thus also though men, like worldly epicures set their minds wholly upon voluptuous pleasures, and more heartily affect, and earnestly seek these carnal delights, then those never fading pleasures, and eternal joys in God's kingdom, yet do they often fail of their desires, and howsoever like sweet singing birds, they allure & invite them with their melodious harmony to come unto them, yet no sooner do they approach to seize upon them, but presently they hide themselves, or fly away; leaving their admirers and seekers in the thickets and bushes, where they oftentimes prick themselves in their pursuit, & find nothing but thorns and briars which rent and scratch them, instead of those sweet delights which enticed them unto them. For how many are there who above all things desire to solace themselves with these worldly pleasures, and yet are forced, whether they will or no, to spend the greatest part of their life in grief and misery? how many seek to delight themselves with sports and pastimes, games and recreations, who being crossed in them, when as they do not succeed according to their desire, do find torment, instead of pleasure, & change all their mirth into fretting & fuming, cursing & swearing, as though because they can take no joy in the pleasures of men, they would try whether they could find it in the delights of the devil, and (as I may say) in the exercises of hell? how many are there who seeking to please their dainty pallet, with delicate drinks, and curious cooked meats, take a surfeit, & drink their bane greedily like a sweet poison, falling into dangerous diseases, which often bring with them untimely death? how many seeking their chief delight in the pleasures of the flesh, do thereby waste their strength, consume their bodies, and receiving contagious infection, cast themselves into many desperate and entolerable diseases, no less shameful then full of torment?

And therefore seeing we may spend all our lives and labors in seeking these worldly things, and yet never find them, nor attain unto our earthly ends, after we have with our whole endeavors sought to compass them; which notwithstanding (as before I have shown) are so vain, worthless, and unprofitable, that though they might be gotten with case, yet they were scarce worthy our labor; let us not set our hearts upon these uncertain vanities, which if we should obtain, never come vnaccompanied with certain miseries: but rather affect and desire God's sanctifying and saving graces, and the eternal joys of God's kingdom, which if we truly seek, we shall surely find, and be at no hazard at all of losing our labor. And this argument of not spending our pains in vain, the Apostle useth to encourage the Corinthians in the constant profession and practice of Christianity. Therefore my beloved brethren (saith he) be ye steadfast, unmovable, abundant always in the work of the Lord; for as much as ye know, that your labor is not in vain in the Lord. For though the world be so scanted in these earthly things, and so full of inhabitants, that if it had the disposing of them all (as in truth it hath not) yet hath not sufficient to give content to the tenth suitor; yet it is not so with the Lord, and with our spiritual riches of grace and salvation; for he hath of these such infinite store, that he can give unto everyone abundance without impairing of his stock, or making one more empty, by another's fullness. And besides he hath freely bound himself by his gracious promises, confirmed with his oath and seals, that if we hunger after his spiritual graces, he will surely satisfy us; if we seek them, we shall undoubtedly find them; and if feeling our wants we do but beg them at his hands, in the name of Jesus Christ, he will without fail give them unto us. Neither is there less certainty of the other, to those who seek for that eternal happiness; for first, that there is that everlasting joy, and heavenly glory prepared for God's Saints and servants, it may be proved by diverse arguments; for it is written in the hearts of men by the finger of God, and revealed by the light of nature, that after this life there are joys prepared for the good and virtuous, and punishments for the wicked and vicious, which even while we continue in the world, refresheth the one with comfort in all their miseries, and affrighteth the other with terrors and fears, in all their pleasures and prosperity. Again, the immortality of the soul being acknowledged by both divine and heathen writers, it followeth hereupon that there is also an everlasting life, wherein it immortally liveth, either in joy or misery. Furthermore there is a natural desire imprinted in man's heart and mind, to enjoy his happiness and chief good, which never any man atta • ned unto in this life, and therefore most certainly it is reserved for those who seek it in the life to come. Or else this natural desire should be in vain, as never attaining unto it end. Finally, if we know that there is a God, then must we also acknowledge that he is just, as being the chief Judge of heaven and earth; and consequently that he administereth righteous judgment, rewarding the godly and virtuous, and punishing the wicked and evil doers; but this he doth not do in this life, seeing for the most part, here the wicked flourish, and the righteous are afflicted; and therefore these rewards and punishments are chiefly reserved for the life to come. And this argument the Apostle useth: If (saith he) in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable: from whence we may assume, that it will not stand with God's justice, that those who faithfully serve him, should be more miserable, then they who oppose and rebel against him; and therefore of necessity it followeth, that after this life they who fear and serve the Lord have better hopes, and more rich rewards reserved for them. Unto these reasons we may add those testimonies of truth it self, which can never deceive or fail. The Prophet Daniel saith, that those who sleep in the dust shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and perpetual contempt. Our Savior Christ affirmeth also, that the wicked shall go into everlasting pain, and the righteous into life eternal▪ and in another place he promiseth that he will give unto his sheep everlasting life. So the Apostle Paul telleth us, that after our earthly house of this tabernacle is destroyed, we have a building given us of God, an house not made with hands, but eternal in the heavens. And that we have here no continuing city, but we seek one to come. And the Apostle John saith, that this is God's promise which he hath promised us, even eternal life. Yea this we also confess in the articles of our faith that God hath prepared for all that in this life obtain remission of sins, life everlasting; and therefore they are worse then Pagans and Infidels, who continually with their mouths confessing this truth, do not in their hearts believe it; and worse then fools and mad men, who do not above all things in the world with all their endeavors seek to obtain it.

And as it is certain that there is life eternal: so have we no less certainty that we also shall obtain it, if we set our hearts upon it, and before all things seek it: for first God hath in many places promised it to all the faithful who fear and serve him. So the Prophet Daniel saith, that many who sleep in the dust shall awake to everlasting life. And our Savior promiseth, that he will give unto all his sheep life eternal: and that whosoever are ready for his sake to leave anything in the world which they dearly love, shall have everlasting life. And the Apostle assureth us, that godliness shall have the promises, not only of this life, but also of the life to come. All which promises being apprehended by a true & lively faith, do certainly assure us that we shall be inheritors of this eternal happiness: for he is faithful that hath promised, and his promises in Christ are yea and amen; and though heaven and earth may pass away, yet not one jot or tittle of his word shall fall to the ground unperformed: for he is truth it self and cannot lie, and immutable and unchangeable, so that what he hath decreed, shall furely come to pass. And therefore in the assurance of faith, resting it self upon these infallible promises, we may even in this life be certainly persuaded that we shall be heirs of life eternal; yea so infallible is this assurance, that our Savior Christ saith, that he who believeth hath already everlasting life; and his beloved Apostle affirmeth, that we know that we are translated from death to life, because we love the brethren. And this assurance of faith the Apostle Paul had, undoubtedly concluding, that a crown of righteousness was laid up for him, which the righteous Judge would give, not only to him, but also to all them that love his appearing. Yea we have not only God's promises to assure us of these eternal joys, but also a real pledge and pawn of them, even his holy spirit, which is the earnest of our inheritance, and hath sealed unto us the truth of the Gospel after we have believed, as the Apostle speaketh. By which holy spirit working in our hearts sanctifying and saving graces, we have even in this life, life eternal begun in us; as when thereby our minds be enlightened with the true knowledge of God, and our Savior Christ, whom it is eternal life to know, as himself speaketh; when it worketh in us faith, by the assurance whereof we are entered into the possession of life eternal; when being justified thereby we have peace with God, being assured of his love, and our reconciliation; and by reason hereof have peace of conscience, and joy in the holy Ghost: and when in love and thankfulness towards God, who hath so dearly loved us, we love him again, performing cheerful and willing obedience unto his commandments, and taking our chief delight in doing those things which are pleasing unto him; for so the Apostle saith, that the kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but righteousness, peace, and joy in the holy Ghost. So that whosoever they are that find these graces of God dwelling in them, they may certainly be assured, that the kingdom of God, and eternal life is begun in them: whereof it is that the Apostle saith, that he doth not live now, but Christ liveth in him; & that whilst he lived in the flesh, he lived by the faith in the son of God. And whosoever have this life eternal begun in them, they may certainly be assured, that it shall be perfected and accomplished unto them, and having begun it in the life of grace, that they shall finish it in that everlasting life of glory: whereas contrariwise, those shall never live in that glorious happiness eternally, who have not in this world made an entrance into it, by living this life of faith and grace. Now unto this certainty let us add also the facility of obtaining; for howsoever these heavenly treasures are infinitely of more value then this earthly trash, yet we may not only attain unto more certain assurance of them, but also compass them with much more ease; for though we have never so great a love & desire of obtaining these worldly vanities, it helpeth us not much to their fruition; yea (as I have shown) oftentimes too much desire after earthly things, frustrateth our hope, & hindereth us from attaining unto the things desired; but (as one saith) a just life, which is the way that leadeth to life eternal, is always present when we will; because it is justice it self, if we effectually desire it, neither is there anything more required to the perfecting of righteousness, then to have a perfect will to embrace it; and therefore what great labor is in that, where to will is also to obtain? For whereas it may be objected that our Savior saith, that the way to life eternal is strait, and the gate that entereth into it narrow; this difficulty is to be understood in respect of flesh and blood, which indeed is too gross for this narrow passage; but if we lay aside the old man, with the gross corruptions thereof, and become spiritual and holy in our minds, affections & actions, we shall have room enough to enter. Again, this difficulty and straitnes is only at the first sight whē we behold this way a far off, without any desire to go into it; whereas if we come nearer hand, with a full resolution to enter into this narrow passage, we shall find it open, easy and large enough; even as when being in a broad way, and looking far before us upon a narrow lane, we think it quite closed up, and are ready (if experience helped us not more then sight) to turn back, as being hopeless in finding any passage; but when we still go forward and come near unto the place, we find an easy entrance for four or five together, which we supposed was not large enough for one: so although the way to heaven seemeth strait to those who look upon it with carnal eyes, yet this is not so much in the narrowness of the passage it self, as in the error of our sight; for they who approach unto it find an open passage, and being once entered, do travel forward with great delight. And therefore seeing this way is certain, assuredly bringing us to our iorneyes end of eternal happiness, and easy also to those who travel in it, let us leave our earnest pursuit of worldly vanities, which if they were not to be forsaken, because they are contemptible, yet because after great pains and care taken, we can have no assured hope of obtaining them; and wholly set our hearts and affections upon these heavenly excellencies, pursuing them with hearty desire, and earnest endeavor; seeing they are not only in themselves of infinite more worth and value, but also may be enjoyed with much more certainty and facility.

CHAP. XXVII.

That the world and worldly things are momentary and corruptible.

ANd thus have I shown that these worldly things are not much to be esteemed or desired, yea to be contemned and despised, in comparison of God's spiritual graces and heavenly joys, in regard that they are most uncertain in obtaining, though we should set our harts upon them, & pursue them with all our endeavors, and these most certain and assured, to all that love and seek them. Now let us further consider, that if by our great care and labor we do obtain them, the possession is no less uncertain then the suite. And that both in respect of the things themselves, & also in respect of us, who are possessed of them. For first, all worldly things are most uncertain when they are possessed, because they are momentary & mutable: momentary in regard of themselves, as being in their own nature corruptible, & subject to dissolution; and mutable in regard of us; as being changeable, & subject to alteration. In respect also of us they are uncertain, because we are mortal, & our lives momentary; and therefore though they should not be taken from us, yet we cannot long continue together, because we shall in short time be taken from them. Concerning the momentary continuance of these worldly things, it may evidently appear, if we consider that the whole world it self generally, and specially all that is contained in it, are but of short continuance, and subject to corruption; for such as are all the parts of the world, such also is the whole; but experience teacheth, that all the parts of the world are subject to corruption and dissolution, and consequently this whole universe cannot be incorruptible and eternal; but shall in the appointed time be dissolved and come to ruin: and this the Scriptures also plainly teach us, that as the world had a beginning; so also it must have an ending. To this purpose the Apostle John saith, that the world passeth away, & the lusts thereof; but he that fulfilleth the will of God abideth ever. And the Apostle Peter plainly affirmeth, that the heavens & earth are reserved unto fire against the day of judgment, and of the destruction of ungodly men: and that the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night, in the which the heavens shall pass away with a noise, & the elements shall melt with heat, & the earth with the works that are therein, shall be burnt up. Now as we are certain that the world is corruptible, and shall have an end; so are we uncertain how soon this end shall be, but for ought we know, it may be this year, as well as the next, and sure we are that it cannot be far off; seeing we live in the latter times, of which the Apostle speaketh; yea in the latter end of the last hour: for the Apostle John making the whole age of the world in respect of eternity, to be but of a few hours continuance, saith, that all were spent saving the last, in which he lived; and therefore if the whole time from Christ's incarnation, to his second coming to judgment, were but one hour, it is not probable that we are far from the hours end, seeing so great a part is already past.

Now who would fix his heart and ground his hopes upon such a rotten foundation, as cannot possibly long stand, and may for ought we know presently fall? who would build his house in such a city as he certainly knew would within a while be consumed with fire, being uncertain in what part of this short time, it would come to this expected ruin? what wise man will build his house upon the sincking sands, where it is either ready to sink with them, or to be beaten down at the next high flood, and not rather upon the firm rock, where it shall remain unmovable? But the Scriptures teach us that the world is but a bog, or sandy ground, subject every day to fleeting and fading, and to be carried away with a flood of fire; & why then should we labor with such pains to build abiding places upon a foundation so deceitful & unsure; and not rather bend all our studies to be admitted into those masion houses, & eternal habitations, which Christ hath prepared for us in the heavens? If a skillful carpenter, in whose knowledge & truth we repose much confidence, should certainly assure us, that all the principals of our house were so old and rotten, that they would within a year at furthest fail, and the whole building come to ruin, who would not flit out of such an house, in which he cannot one night sleep securely, and use all means to place himself in a surer habitaon? who would not think him a fool that would so fondly love this ruinous building, as that by staying still in it, he would be contented to endanger himself, to be overwhelmed and buried in it ruins? But the Lord our God the skillful builder of this great frame of heaven and earth, whose cunning cannot be deceived, nor truth deceive, hath plainly told us that this great building shall within short time fall; and therefore who would here seat his hopes? who would not change his dwelling, especially seeing we are proffered the fee-simple of that goodly building not made with hands, but eternal in the heavens? yea we are assured of the worlds approaching ruin, not only by the word of God, but even also by our own experience; for we our selves do see it rottenness, we daily behold how the strength thereof decayeth, and that all the creatures do wax more feeble, being much abated in their natural powers and virtues, and showing by their weakness and sickness that they approach near their end: the heavens have not that virtue in their influences as in ancient times; the heat of the Sun is much abated, and his vital operation in sublunarie and terrestrial bodies greatly weakened, and though (as the learned have observed) this life-giving fire be lower and nearer unto us, yet his virtue being decayed, we have less comfort and feeling of his heat. The earth also which is the mother and nurse of all inferior creatures, being come to old age, and weary and spent with much bearing, hath not her ancient virtue and vigor in bringing forth her fruits for the use and nourishment of man; by reason whereof he is much lessened in growth, enfeebled in strength, and obnoxious to many more infirmities and discases then were his ancestors. All which show that the world is in it old and decrepit age, and not far from death. For as in the little world of man, so also in this greater world and large universe, there is a time of youth, and full strength, and a time of old age, and decrepit weakness; a time of life, and a time of death. And as man in his youth is lusty and strong, having his bones full of marrow, and his sinowes of strength; his skin full of flesh, his whole body full of natural heat and moisture, and quickened with vital spirits: but when age cometh, his strength is abated, his back crooked, his spirits spent, and all parts so full of infirmities and weakness, that they are not able to perform their natural functions and actions, till at last the limbs being altogether unable to support the staggering body, it stumbleth and falleth at the threshold of death: so the world had it time of youth wherein it flourished in beauty, health, and strength, and was able to propagate a posterity like it self, and to nourish and make it fat with all delights; but now it is come to old age, wherein all the powers thereof are so weakened and enfeebled, that it cannot be but the death thereof near approacheth; and therefore let us not set our hearts upon that which is ready to vanish; let us not now foolishly dote upon the world in it withered old age, wherein it hath lost all it beauty, and is so full of wrinkles, infirmities, diseases, and manifold miseries, that setting our dotage aside, it hath not so much as a show of comeliness to allure us, nor any bait of beauty to entice us. For look how much those great worthies of ancient times, the Patriarchs and Prophets are to be commended for contemning it, in it greatest bravery, refusing when it chiefly flourished to flourish with it; so much are we to be blamed and condemned, for esteeming and loving it, when all excellency being vanished, and it now being full of blemish and miseries, hath nothing in it, worthy so much as carnal love.

And as the world is momentary and corruptible; so much more are all the things therein contained, especially if we consider them in our use and fruition; for whereas all things in the world are past, present, or to come; that which is past is perished, and as though it were not; that which is to come, is uncertain, having not yet his being; and therefore we can truly be said only to enjoy the present, which is momentary and ready to vanish. In respect of which momentary continuance of worldly things, they may fitly be compared to fiery meteors, which make for the instant a glorious show, but are inflamed and extinguished in the same moment; to the uncertain winds, which suddenly blow, and suddenly cease; to deceitful dreams, which bring a seeming short pleasure, but vanish when one awaketh; and to the houses, castles, and characters which children in their play do make in the sands, which either are overthrown and defaced with every blast of wind, or washed away with the next tide. The author of the book of Wisdom likeneth the riches, pomp and glory of the world, to the passing away of a shadow, or post, and to the passage of a ship which glideth over the waves, and being gone by, leaveth no trace or path behind it in the floods, or to a bird that flieth in the air, and no man seeth any token of her passage, or finally to an arrow shot at a mark, and parting the air, which immediately cometh together again, so that no man can know where it went thorough. Another demanding what human things are; answereth, that they are as dust and ashes before the face of the wind, a smoke and a shadow, flowers and falling leaves, a dream, and tale told, a wind and soft air suddenly vanishing, flying wings, and running water, or some other thing yet more momentary and uncertain. And in truth who seeth not that these worldly things do flow and reflow like the sea, there following presently after a full tide of prosperity, a low ebb of adversity; after a bright day of joy▪ a dark night of sorrow; after fair weather, and a pleasing calm of comfort, a blustering storm, and turbulent tempest of crosses and afflictions, after a bright full of mirth and delight, the dark wane of sorrow and discontentment; in regard whereof there is no more constancy to be found in the world or worldly things, then in the moon, the sea, or April weather. And therefore he is no less foolish who imagineth that he can hold steadfastly this slippery eele, then he who would inclose the wind, or keep the sea incontinuall calmness. For when this swelling of prosperity is fullest, it is nearest to breaking; and when we think our worldly estate securest, our downfall suddenly approacheth. And yet there were some indifferency if these worldly things were as soon gotten as lost, and that our estate were as quickly repaired as it is ruined; but contrariwise experience teacheth us, that the ascent to the obtaining our worldly desires is by little and little, and the descent headlong; that we are long in gathering that which is in a moment scattered, and lose that in an hour, which with great care and incessant labor, we have hardly attained unto in our whole lives.

It is true indeed that howsoever these worldly things be in themselves alike momentary and uncertain, yet with some they make a longer, and with others a shorter stay, as it pleaseth our great Lord and master to dispose of them. For some are long in obtaining them, and in a moment are spoiled of them, and have no time to enjoy the fruit of their tedious labors, these worldly things whose company they so long desired, saluting them and bidding them farrwell in the same day. The which the Wise man signifieth, when as he saith, that the deceitful man roasteth not that he took in hunting. In which case worldlings have no good by these things whereupon they have set their hearts, having only a taste of them to increase their longing, and long l • sting grief, for their lost delights. Sometime they make a longer stay, and give some little comfort by their fruition. But though they presently perish not, yet are they always as perishing; and though they have some short reprieue, yet the sentence of mortality, and momentary mutability being passed▪ they can give unto us no assurance of their abode. In respect of which uncertainty the wise man willeth us, not to boast our selves so much as of tomorrow; because we do not know what a day may bring forth. To which purpose another saith, that every man who entrusteth those things which he gathereth to the earths custody, is utterly ignorant to whom he gathereth them, whether to the consuming mouth, or to y ^e undermining thief, or spoiling enemy, or devouring fire. In regard whereof howsoever we may for some time be possessed of these earthly things, yet we cannot have the fruition of thē with any quietness of mind, or peaceable comfort; for as one saith, the soul enioieth nothing with liberty, unless it enjoy it with security, & no mā cā be secure in the fruitiō of those things which he esteemeth good; if he may lose them whether he will or no.

Seeing therefore these worldly things are momentary and uncertain, from hence we gather that they are not truly good, nor of any great worth or excellency; for that which is truly good, as it cannot be received unwillingly, so neither can it be unwillingly lost, but remaineth with the owners to their perpetual comfort; where as these worldly vanities are but of momentary continuance, and may every day, whether we will or no, be taken from us, leaving behind them a proportionable sorrow, according to the quantity of their supposed goodness; so that though a man's joy were never so great in their fruition, it shall at their last farewell be matched, if not overmatched with bitter grief. In respect whereof when this day of parting cometh, a man would willingly desire, that his comforts and delights in those things which he formerly affected had been less, that now also he might have less sorrow. Whereby it appeareth that there can be no great happiness in anything which is but of momentary continuance, and that nothing is much to be desired which is mortal and must end: because when the time is once past, though it have been never so long, it will appear to those who look back upon it, but as a moment; and the greater joy it hath brought in the fruition, the the greater grief will it also bring, because at last they are deprived of it. Again, seeing these worldly vanities are momentary and uncertain, from hence it necessarily followeth that the hope, confidence, and comforts of worldly men, which are built upon this weak and rotten foundation must also be uncertain and deceitful. So Bildad saith, that the hypocrites hope shall perish, his confidence also shall be cut off, and his trust shall be as the house of a spider; he shall lean upon his house, but it shall not stand; he shall hold him fast by it, yet shall it not endure. And the Author of the book of Wisdom affirmeth, that the hope of the ungodly is like the dust that is blown away with the wind, and like a thin foam, that is scattered abroad with the storm, & as the smoke which is dispersed with the wind, and as the remembrance of him passeth, that tarrieth but for a day. And in regard of this momentary uncertainty of earthly vanities, the Prophet Isaiah compareth the endeavors of worldly men, in seeking to obtain and possess these mutable and unconstant things, to the weaving of the spiders web; for as to this idle work there is required great industry and labor, and being made, it is of no continuance, because every blast of wind is ready to break it, & every besom to brush it down: so these worldly vanities are compassed with great pains, and when with careful toile we have obtained thē, every blast of adverse casualty, every brush of outward violence is ready to blow thē away, & break thē down. And in the same respect the world by others, is fitly compared to y ^e Moon, who in her chief brightness hath her shining mingled with spots, and is always mutable: so the world, though it make a glittering show, is spotted in his greatest glory, with miseries & adversities, and this shining brightness in the space of a few days is turned to black and uncomfortable darkness. And therefore how glorious soever it seemeth, the wise Christian will not set it on his head, nor at his heart, but with the woman in the Revelation, will tread this unconstant Moon under his feet, and contemn these momētany vanities, which though we could stay with them, are continually in readiness to fly frō us. Especially he who truly considereth this momentary uncertainty of these earthly trifles, will carefully take heed that he do not with the least sin compass the greatest good, and thereby hazard his eternal joys, and endanger himself to perpetual punishments; for what folly is it for any, to buy these momētany and unconstant vanities at the high price of everlasting torments, & for a short & salse joy, to hazard body & soul to never ending punishments? And whē with these worldly baits he is allured unto sin, he will be ready to say with that godly Father: The eternal God hath promised me eternal joys; and if I believe him, I also of a mortal man, shall be made eternal: why thē O impure world, why then doest thou mutter in mine ears thy bewitching charms? why dost thou seek to seduce me out of the right way? thou wouldest for love of thee withhold me frō eternity, and yet thyself art ready to perish. O what wouldest thou do if thy joys were permanent? if thou were truly sweet, whom wouldest thou not deceive; when as being bitter, thou counterfeitest pleasing nourishment? And yet though the world were sincerely sweet, without the mixture of any gall of misery, there were little reason, why we should match it in our love with our gracious God, seeing it were all but a drop in comparison of this infinite ocean of sweetness; if this creature should endure forever, yet how much more should we love the Creator, from whom it hath received all it goodness, as a little spark from a great fire? how much more then should we now neglect it in comparison of that infinite goodness, seeing his sweetes are bitterness? & if in respect of him, we might well contemn it though it were permanent, let us now much more contemn it, because it is transitory. And seeing as the Apostle speaketh, he that soweth to his flesh, shall of his flesh reap corruption, let us sow to the spirit, that of the spirit we may reap life everlasting.

But let us consider the vanity of worldly things in the special