The Happiness of the Church

Qualification

Of this spiritual eye: enlightened. For this blessing the Apostle prays to the Father of lights; from whom comes every good and perfect gift: from him, and from him only, comes this grace of Illumination. Mans mind is not only dark, but darkness, till the Spirit of knowledge light on him, and lighten him. Though Zedekiah was in Nebuchadnezzar's Court, that great Monarch, newly deliuerd of his monstrous ambition; to whom all the glories and pleasures of the world came a gossiping: yet he saw none of this pomp and magnificence; his eyes were wanting. So blind Samson among the merry Philistines, saw none of their rich apparel, costly cheer, and glorious triumphs. When the natural man comes into the Temple, among the Cōgregation of God's Saints, his soul is not delighted with their prayers, praises, psalms, and service: he sees no comfort, no pleasure, no content in their actions. True, he doth not, he cannot; for his understanding is not enlightened, to see the hope of their calling, and the glorious riches which the Spirit of grace and consolation sheds into them. He sees no whit into the awful Majesty of God, filling all with his glorious presence, and ruling all events with his providence; even disposing evil to his glory. Nothing of the beauty, mercy, pity of his Savior, sitting at the right hand of his Father: not his Highness being in heaven, nor yet his Nighnesse to his brethren on earth. Nothing of Mount Zion, the City of the living God, the celestial Jerusalem; not of the company of innumerable Angels; nor of the general assembly, and company of the first borne which are written in Heaven; not of God, the Judge of all; nor of the spirits of just men made perfect; nor of Jesus the Mediator of the New Testament; nor the blood of sprinkling, that speaks better things then that of Abel.

What more then a world of happiness doth this man's eye not see! Hereupon we call a mere fool a natural. The worldlings have esteemed, and misnamed Christians God's fools: but we know them the fools of the world. The greatest Philosopher is but a sot to the weakest Christian: therefore Philosophy (unbaptized with grace) is said to be monoculate, to have but one eye, and that is of natural Reason; a left eye of the soul. But the Christian hath two eyes: the left eye of Reason, whereby he may see into the secrets of nature, as far as the Philosopher: and the right eye of faith, which the other wanting cannot conceive the mystery of godliness. This mystery to him, is but like a high candle to a blind man. God only then must give Solomon wisdom; and to his Father, a knowledge above his Teachers. If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God. The first Character our forefathers taught us, was Christ's Cross. Our first spelling lesson; In the Name of the Father, &c. To teach us, that even all human knowledge, much more divine, is derived from God's fountain. There are two reasons, why we must all beg of God for our selves, as Paul did for his Ephesians, this grace of Illumination.

1. Our spiritual blindness came upon us by God's just curse for our sins. As the Philistines put out Samsons eyes, for his many mischiefs done them: so GOD on far greater cause blinded Adam, and his perpetual issue. He had pure and good knowledge; but because his ambition was appetere prohibitum, to desire that was forbidden: his punishment was perdere concessum, to lose that he had. Now the same hand that laid on this penalty, must take it off. The blind men in the Gospel, recovered not their sight till Christ came. They were as types to us; to teach us that only the Spirit of Christ can restore our spiritual eyes. Therefore of this Spirit are we counseled to buy eye-salve, to anoint our eyes, that we may see.

2. This original defect is increased by actual transgressions. We were borne ignorant, we have made our selves blind; putting out even that remaining spark of nature. We mind earthly things: setting not only our affections, but even fixing our whole knowledge on this World. And it is impossible that man's eye should look on earth and heaven also at one instant. It is a rule in Philosophy; Nothing receives anything, but that is empty of all other things of a contrary nature. The ear must be empty of all sounds, the taste of all savors, the eye of all colors; before there can be entertainment given to a new object. The smell possessed with Rew, cannot sent the Rose: the taste infected with gall, imagines all morsels bitter: and a green glass held before the eyes, presents all things looked on, green. So if the souls eye be taken up with the gaudy vanities of this py'd world, it cannot discern the things, that concern everlasting peace. The understanding then must be with-drawn from earth, that it may contemplate heaven. This confutes their practices, that have vowed a Monkish life, addicted to speculation & eying of heaven; yet are perpetually raking in the mud of the earth to get money; with an impossibility of reconciling these two opposite objects to their eyes at once. In vain they lift up ceremonial eyes of a forced devotion; for the eye of their heart is fixed downwards: Unless they have squint-ey'd souls, that can look two ways at once. But I rather think, that like watermen, they look one way, and row another: for he must needs be strangely squint-ey'd, that can at the same instant fasten one of his lights on the light of glory, & the other on the darkness of iniquity. The riches above and below are remote things; Quorum dum aliud contemplatim aspicimus, aliud contemptim despicimus: whereof whiles we admire the one, we vilipend the other. This blindness then being both hereditary to our natures, (and hereditary diseases are not easily cured) and, augmented by our willful disorders; can be taken away by no hand but God's. Since the World began was it never heard, that any man (not man, but God) opened the eyes of one that was borne blind; and had increased this caecitie by his own accessive and excessive wickedness.

He that would desire inspection into others blindness, had need of clear eyes himself. Cast out the beam in thine own eye, that thou mayest pull out the mote in thy brothers; saith our Savior. Let us take with us then the eyes of grace, that we have; that we may the better look into that blindness of nature, we had. There is in this blind eye diseases and defects. The diseases are double, so are the defects.

The Diseases.

1. The Cataract, which is a thickness drawn over the eye, and bred of many causes: this especially, either from the rheum of vain-glory, or the inflammation of malice. From this eye there is no reflection, or returning the own beams, whereby a man may contemplate himself. But even the optic nerves, and the visory spirits are corrupted: the memory cannot reuolue, nor the mind present it self, what it is; nec in se descendere tentat. This dark mind is the vault, where Satan keeps his Seminary, and sits hatching a black brood of lusts.

The means to expel this disease, is to take God's Law into thy hand and heart, and through that glass to look into thyself. Consider your own ways in your hearts, saith the Prophet.

Teipsum

Concute: tecum habita: te consule, dic tibi quis sis.

Plumbe-deep into thy own breast: Animi tui abyssum intra. A man offends less, by searching sin with too deep, then with too short an instrument. Though this be, saith Abselme, grauis angustia; a hard exigent. Si me inspicio, •… ipsum non tolero; si non inspicio, nescio. Si video, horror; si non videro, mors est. If I look into myself, I cannot endure myself; if I look not, I cannot know myself. If I see myself, there is horror: if I see not, there is death. This inspection is difficult. Difficile est se nosse, sed beatum. It is a hard, but a happy thing to know ones self. Private sins are not easily spied out. Difficilius est inuenire, quàm interficere; as Caesar said of the Scythians. It is harder to find them out, then to root them out. Innumerable sins are in a man; if not in actual and ripe practice, yet in growing seeds. Qui indulget vno vitio, amicus est omnibus. He that is partially indulgent to one sin, is a friend to all. It is a pains well taken, to study thyself. How sweet a rest doth that night bring, whose sleep is prevented with a recognition of our selves!

Bernard teacheth man a three-fold consideration of himself: Quid, quis, qualis fit. What by nature, who in person, what kind of man in conversation. Which particulars when he casteth up, he shall find in sum; Himself a miserable sinner. Si cupis bonus fieri, primùm creed quod malus fis. If thou wouldest be good, first know that thou art evil. Chrysostom amplifies this self knowledge, by teaching a man to consider; what he is in himself, dust and ashes: what is within him; much wickedness: what above him, an offended Justice: what below him, a burning lake: what against him, Satan and sin: what before him, vain pleasure: what behind him, infallible death.

But alas! what is all this that hath been said of the eye, if God enlighten not that mental eye to see it? He must open our eyes, to behold the wonderful things of his Law. Otherwise man's sight to these objects, is but as oculus noctuae ad lumen solis. Spiritual joys he cannot perceive; and what he conceives of death and hell, he thinks of them senselessly like a beast, or desperately like a Devil. If his conscience begins to wake, he sings her asleep again. And as in some, the fuliginous vapors arising from the lower parts of the body, blind the eyes: so in him the fumous euaporations of the fleshes lusts, have caused absolute blindness. The spirit of God, with the saving instrument of grace, can only take away this Cataract.

2. There is another disease, called the Pearl in the eye; a dangerous disease, and hereof are all worldlings sick: for earthly riches is such a pearl in their eye, that they cannot see the pearl of the Gospel, which the wise Merchant sold all he had to purchase. By distrusting and distracting cares of the world, this intellectual eye is not only depraved, but deprived of light. Affectio mundi, infectio animi: our souls are affected, infected with this contagion. We are easily inclined, and declined from our supernal bliss, by doting love of these transient delights. And vbi amor, ibi oculus: the eye follows the heart, with more diligence then a servant his Master. Now it is no wonder if that eye be blind, which the Devil hath daubed up with the dirt of this world! Covetousness is an Engrosser, wheresoerver it dwells: and as it would engross the whole Vniuerse to it vnsatiate self, so it takes up the whole soul, with all the affections and desires of it. It gives every member and faculty press-money, and binds all their contention to get riches. It leaves not so much as an eye for our selves, not a thought for God. Quicquid de se intrinsecus agatur oblitus est animus, dum extrinsecus occupatur. Whiles the mind is externally busied, it forgets what is done in it self, what shall become of it self. This pearl then must be cut out of the worldlings eye, with the sharp knife of repentance; otherwise he is likely never to see heaven. For it may be well said to them, as the Philosopher answered to some, that asked him curious questions of the world; whether it had a soul, whether it were round, &c. Vos de mundo solliciti estis, & vestram immunditiem non c •… atis. You are busy examiners concerning the world, but idle neglecters of your unclean selves. These are the Diseases: there is also a double defect in this natural Eye.

1. It perceives only natural and external things; qua ante pedes sunt; which lie at their feet, 2. Pet. 1. For It cannot see a far off. It beholds only the barque or rind; but not the inward virtue. It can perceive what thy riches are, thy house adorned, thy lands tilled, thy grounds stocked: but not those spiritual blessings, and celestial privileges, that belong to thee as thou art a Christian. It judgeth the Cabinet by the Lether and cover, not by the costly jewels in it. It may see Job's outward affliction, not his inward consolation. If God swells their garners with plenteous fruits, and fills their bones with marrow, this they see: but the hope of God's calling, the comforts of the Gospel, the saving health of Jesus Christ, and the promises of eternal life, they not see. The world is their circumference; other things Nec capiunt, nec cupiunt; neque tenent manibus, nec cernunt oculis; they neither comprehend nor covet; neither hold, nor behold them.

A beast hath one kind of eye, a natural man two, a Christian three. The beast hath an eye of Sense, the natural man of Sense and Reason, the Christian of Sense, of Reason, and of Faith. Each of these hath his several objects, several intentions. The eye of sense regards only sensual things: the eye of reason only sensible and natural things: the eye of faith, spiritual, supernal, and supernatural things.

The eye of sense doth not extend to intelligible things, and matters of discourse. Tell a brute beast of Philosophy, and the conclusions of nature, he understands you not. The belly of Sense hath no ears for such instructions. Let it be fed, nourished, have the appetite delighted: of further felicity it hath neither notion, nor motion. Nec noscit, nec poscit.

The eye of Reason sees further then that of Sense; and hath (more then common Sense) a rational and discursiue apprehension of intelligible objects. For the bodies of creatures, the brutes see them as well as man, and perhaps some better: but in these bodies he perceives hidden virtues, objectual to the scope of understanding, which the beast cannot see. I confess that many a man is defective in the gradual ascents of reason. Tell a rustic or mechanicke that the Sun is greater then the whole earth, or that a little star is larger then his car-wheel; and he derides thy boldness, and thinks thou wouldst be admired for telling alye. Though this by the eye of mature reason is discerned perfect truth.

The eye of Faith sees further then both the former; for it looks into the hope of our calling, and the glorious inheritance of the Saints. The Christian hath not only an eye of Sense common with beasts; nor an eye of reason common with men; but also an eye of faith proper to his profession. Wherein he goes beyond the natural man, further then the natural man goes beyond the beast. The unregenerate liuesall his days in a mist: he cannot look up to heaven; in comparison whereof that world he sees, is but a base moale-hill; and himself is like a blind moale, digging in it. Yea in this very world, his own proper element, how little doth he truly perceive! There is no herb or flower he treads on, that he truly knows. Yea he is a stranger at home, and is ignorant of what is in his own bosom. But for things that concern a better world, he hath no insight. The natural man perceiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. Those things are incredible, impossible to him, which we build our faiths on. Happy then are their eyes that see these things. In matters of the world our simplicity moves pity, or makes sport: let it content us, that these losses are requited by our spiritual knowledge, seeing further into better matters. That wherein we are ignorant, is transient & contemptible: that which we know, is glorious and eternal. The ignorance of the former shall not hinder our blessedness; the knowledge of the other shall accomplish it.

2. The second defect in this eye is an in solid levity: it is roving, like Dinah's, and ravished abroad; but wants selfinspection. Two things exceedingly move men; Similitude and Example. When men judge others very evil, they begin to think themselves good. Nothing doth sooner blind us then comparisons. He that would mount to a high opinion of his own worth, by comparing it to the base wickedness of another; Perinde est, ac si quis ad clandos respiciens, s •… am miretur velocitatem: is like one that observing a Cripples lameness, wonders at himself that he is so swift. The curious man goes abroad, Et exterius omnia confiderat; qui sic interna despicit: and is so intentiue upon foreign businesses, that he forgets his own. They are common questions; Quid ill fecit? What hath he done? and Quid ill faciet? What shall he do? But not What have I done? not What shall I do that I might be saved? They are like Tailors, that have taken measure of many men, never of themselves. Such a man doth not smite his own bosom with the Publican, but breaks his neighbors head with the Pharisee. It is good for a man to keep his eyes at home, and set them about the domestical business of his own heart: lest at last Omnibus notus, ignotus moritur sibi; he that lived known to all, dies in ignorance of himself.

I cannot leave this excellent Organ, the eye; till I have shown you two things. 1. The danger of spiritual blindness. 2. The means to cure it.

Spiritual blindness shall appear the more perilous, if we compare it with natural. The bodies eye may be better spared then the souls. As to want the eyes of Angels, is far worse then to want the eyes of beasts. The want of corporal sight is often good, not evil: evil in the sense, good in the consequence. He may the better intend heavenly things, that sees no earthly to draw him away. Many a man's eye hath done him hurt. The sons of God saw the daughters of men. David from the roof of his Palace saw Bethshabe. Per oculorum beneficium intrat cordis veneficium. The lightning of lust hath scorched the heart through those windows. Malus oculus, malus animus. An evil eye makes an evil mind. The Apostle speaks of eyes full of adultery: it is a fearful thing to have an eye great with whoredom. And there be eyes full of covetousness, lusting after the grounds and goods of other men: as Ahab's eye was full of Nabaoths vineyard. But non tutum est conspicere, quod non licitum est concupiscere. Let not thine eye be enamored of that, which thy heart must not covet. You see therefore, that sometimes the loss of corporal sight doth the soul good: and the eye of faith sees the better, because the eye of flesh sees not at all.

Besides, the bodily blind feels and acknowledgeth his want of sight: but the spiritually thinks that none have clearer eyes then himself. He that wants corporal eyes, blesseth them that see: this man derides & despiseth them. Their blindness is therefore more dangerous, Qui suam ignorant ignorantiam; that know not they are blind, as Laodicea, Reve. 3. This conviction Christ gave to the Jews. If ye were blind, ye should not have sin: but now ye say, We see, therefore your sin remaineth. The blind in body is commonly led either by his servant, or his wife, or his dog: there may be yet some respect in these guides. But the blind in soul is led by the world, which should be his servant, is his traitor: or by the flesh, which should be as a wife, is his harlot: or by the devil, which is a dog indeed, a crafty cur, not leading, but misleading him. He that is blind himself, and led by such blind, or rather blinding guides, how should he escape the rubs of transgression, or the pit of destruction!

Now the means to clear this Eye, is to get it a knowledge of God, of our selves. That the eye may be cured, this knowledge must be procured.

Now God must be known by his

• Works.
• Word.
• Spirit.

1. By his Works. The book of Nature teacheth the most unlearned, that there is a Deity. This may be called natural Theologic. For his invisible things may be understood by his visible works. Praesentemque refert qualibet herba Deum. Not a pile of grass we tread on, but tells us there is a GOD. Ask the beasts and they will tell thee; the fowls of the air the fishes in the Sea; the earth will declare unto thee, that the hand of the Lord hath wrought this. When an Eremite was found fault with, that he wanted books; he answered, that there could be no want of books, when Heaven and Earth stood before his eyes. The heavens declare the glory of GOD: and the firmament showeth his handy work. Day unto day uttereth speech: and night unto night showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard. All these creatures speak GOD; in whom is the act of all powers, & from whom the power of all acts: whether thou have a carnal affection, filled with vanity; or a curious head, filled with variety; or a Christian heart, filled with verity; despise not the paedagogie and manuduction of the World, leading thee to know God.

2. But this book reads only to us, (that ask An sit) Deus est; that there is a God. If we ask further, Quis sit, Who this God is, or how to be worshipped; it cannot expound it. It brings us only like that Athenian Altar, Adignotum Deum; To the unknown God. We must turn over a new leaf, search another book to take out this lesson. Search the Scriptures; for they give this testimony. So Zacharias. Ten men out of all languages of the Nations shall take hold of the skirt of him that is a Jew; saying, We will go with you, for we have heard that GOD is with you. In the former, the book is the World, the school Natures light; the scholar man, quatenus homo; as he is man. But here the Book is the Scripture, the School the light of grace, and the scholar Christian man, as he is a Christian. There was the eye of Reason exercised; here of faith. There was taught GOD in his creatures; here God in his Christ.

3. But this Scriptural knowledge (common to the wicked) is not sufficient; there must be a spiritual knowledge: whereby, though he s •… es not more then is in the Word, yet he sees more then they, that see only the letter of the Word. The annointing which you have received, teacheth you all things. Call we then earnestly upon the Spirit of Illumination for this knowledge. For it is not obtained per rationem, sed per orationem; not by reason, but by prayers. For this cause I how my knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, &c. That you may be able to comprehend with all Saints, what is the breadth, and length, & depth, and height: & to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge.

Now we must learn to see our selves, and this selfecontemplation must be made by a Natural glass by a Moral glass by a Spiritual glass.

1. Naturally, by looking into the constitution & composition of our own persons; as Paul distinguisheth us into Body, Soul, Spirit. For thy Body, it was not only fashioned beneath on the earth, but of the earth. Our first Parents were made of the earth: of the earth was their meat: of their meat their blood: of their blood their seed: of the seed our bodies. Corrupta et corrumpentia corpora; bodies corrupt of themselves, and corrupting the souls. For thy Soul, it is a real, spiritual, invisible, and indivisible substance; diffused by God into thy body. Who by placing this soul in thy flesh, hath set thee in the mid-way, betwixt the bodiless Spirits above, and the mindlesse bodies below. This soul is preserved by neither element nor aliment, but by him only that made her; and to whom, she resteth not, till she returns. For thy Spirit, it is called vinculum and vehiculum, a bond and a Chariot. It is a bond to unite a divine and heavenly soul, to an earthly elementary body; both these extremes meet friendly by this Tertium, a firmamentall Spirit. It is called a Chariot, because it carrieth the souls faculties to all organs and parts of the body, and that with wonderful speed.

2. Morally, by considering how frequently we have transgressed those virtues, to which the very Heathen gave a strict obedience. Where is our justice, temperance, patience? We have idle designs, and idler desires; and give way to all evil that may be either thought or wrought: and what we dare not act, we dare like. We loath (like fond sheep) the good pastures of fit benefits, and bleat after the browse of vanities. Like erring Planets, we keep not the ecclyptike line of virtuous mediocrity. As God hath all good in himself, all evil only in knowledge: so we on the contrary, have much good in knowledge, all evil in our selves.

3. Spiritual knowledge goes yet further; even in medullas, et penetralia cordis. It searcheth the heart; and if in that most inward Chamber, or in any cabinet thereof, it can find an Idol, it brings it forth. It sees when the torrent of time bears thee down the stream of custom; what faintness is in thy faith, what coldness in thy zeal, when the awe of man gives the fear of God a check-mate. It sounds the lowest depth of the Conscience; and spyeth blemishes in the face of whitest innocence. So it brings the best soul down on her knees; teacheth her the necessity of humbleness; and puts this prayer in her mouth; Lord be merciful to me a sinner.

We have now done with the Organ of Seeing; the understanding or Souls Eye: let us come to the object to be seen, The hope of his calling; and the riches of the glory of God's inheritance in the Saints.

The Object

Is clear and transparent to a sanctified Eye. The Philosophers propound six necessary occurrences to our perfect Seeing; and you shall see them all here met.

1. Firmenesse or good disposition of the Organ that seeth. A rolling eye beholds nothing perfectly. A Dinah's eye is the prologue to a ravished soul. This must be a composed eye, steadfastly settled on the divine object: saying with David, My heart is fixed, O Lord, my heart is fixed. The proposed glory is so infinite, that it may well take up the whole eye; for it shall one day take up the whole man. Enter thou, good servant, into thy masters joy: it is too great to enter into thee. This Object is so immense, that we cannot well look besides it.

2. The Spectacle must be objected to the sight: the eye cannot pierce into penetralia terrae, or sublimia coeli: nor can the understanding see into these supernatural joys, unless the Lord object them to it. Hence it is that many neglectfully pass by ( 〈◊〉 lumine lumen) the light, for want of eyes to regard it. But God here produceth the wardrobe of his glory to the sanctified eyes; as if he said, Uenite & videte, Psal. 46. Come, and see. So Moses; Stand still, and see the salvation of God. So Christ to his Apostles. It is given to your eyes to see these things, to others but by parables.

3. That there be a proportional distance betwixt the organ and the object: neither too near, nor too far off. A bright thing held too near the sight, confounds it: be it never so bright, if too far off, it cannot discern it. God hath sweetly ordered and compounded this difference. Those everlasting joys are not close by our eyes, lest the glory should swallow us up: for mortal eyes cannot behold immortal things; nor our corruptible sight see steadfastly that eternal splendor. Who can see God, and live? And though you say, it is the soul that sees; yet even this soul, whiles it is prisoned in this muddy veil, or rather Jail, the flesh, hath by reason of the others impotency and passiblenesse, a thick cloud cast between it self and glory. For now we see through a glass darkly: but then face to face. Now I know in part, then shall I know, even as also I am known. The best eye upon earth looks but through a glass, a lattice, an obscuring impediment. Now on the other side, lest this object should be too far off, that the intellectual eye could not reach it, behold, God hath given it the first fruits; Righteousness, peace of conscience, and joy of the holy Ghost; a prelibation of glory. It sees the earnest of the Spirit, sealing us up to the day of redemption; a pledge of those joys, which otherwise no eye hath seen, no ear heard, nor heart on earth conceived.

4. It is required that the objected matter be substantial; not altogether diaphanous & transparent, but massy, and of a solid being. Otherwise the sight cannot perceive, nor the mind well conceive, the nature which is so subtle & sublim'd: but intends it self still further, till it can acquiescere in materiam visibilem; rest it self on some visible object. But this Object here proposed, is no empty Chimera, or imaginary, tralucent, ayery shadow, but substantial: the hope of God's calling, and a glorious inheritance: which though natures dull eye cannot reach, faiths eye sees perfectly. For Hac est fides, credere quod non vides.

And the subject of this spectacle is by demonstration proved solid and substantial: because▪ nothing but that can give this intellectual eye firm content and complacency. How go the affections of man in a rolling and ranging pace from one creature to another! now thy heart is set upon wealth; thou wilt have it, though thou dignity for it in visceribus both matris & filiorum; in the bowels of the earth, and of the sons of the earth. Say wealth is come, thou art then for honor: thy riches are a ladder, whereby thou wouldest climb to dignity. Dedecet diuitem esse ignobilem. Nobility gotten hath not settled thee: thou art traversing new desires. Thy lust presents thee a beauteous paramour: unclean desires now fill up thy scene; and thou playest, like that Germane, many parts thyself; a golden Ass, a proud Lyon, a luxurious Goat. Wealth and greatness commands thy pleasure; thy lust is answered: then thou art for music, and so actest a fourth part; thou art thine own fiddler. Now thy blood is to be heated with delicates; thou must be indulgent to thy throat with lust-provoking meats; and so playest yet another part, a Cater to uncleanness. When all is done,

Non contenta quies; non est sedata libido.

When thou hast thus wandered, and begged of every poor creature a scrap of comfort, yet thou art but clawed, and cloyed with variety, with vanity; not contented. It is all but one little crumb to one half dead of hunger. Couldst thou pass over the vast Vniuerse, from the conuexe superficies of heaven, to the center of hell: yet the immense capacity, rapacity of thy desires will not be satisfied.

Well then did Augustine confess: Fecisti nos ad te, & inquietum est cor nostrum donec requiescat in te. O Lord, thou didst make us for thee; and our heart cannot be quiet till it rest in thee. Nothing but the Trinity of persons in that one Deity, can fill the triangular concaue of man's own heart. The fire flieth to his sphere, the stone falleth to his center, the rivers run to the sea, as to their end and rest; and are but violently detained in any other place. The needle touched with the Loadstone, stands ever trembling and quiuering, till it enjoy the full aspect of the Northern Pole. Thus the Lord is only our Center; the very life of satisfaction; full of perfect and infallible comfort; and he alone can content the boundless apprehension of this intellectual eye. All other are but shadows and vanities, but this matter objected in my Text, satisfies. The world cannot, but this can; the hope of God's calling, and his glorious inheritance, &c.

5. Clearnesse of space betwixt the Organ and the object. For the interposition of some thick and gross body, prevents the faculty of the Eye. The quickest eye cannot see through hills; and a crass cloud is able to hide the Sun from us at noon day. On necessity, that we may behold with our understandings eyes, this celestial object; the hope of our calling; there must be a removing of all thick and impenetrable obstacles.

1. Some have whole mountains betwixt their eyes and heaven: the mountains of vain-glory hinder their sight. They are ravished with the bravery of earth: they think there is no heaven but at Court; no further scope of ambition, then to be great in this world. If you tell them of the glory of God's Inheritance given to his Saints, alas, they believe not your prattle: they cannot see it. They cannot indeed; for who can see through mountains?

2. Others, to make surer prevention against their sight of heaven, have rolled the whole earth betwixt that and their eyes. These are the covetous, who are rooting down to the Center. If you tell them of this hope, &c. they answer, Non videmus nisi terram; we see nothing but earth. Well may they say so: for what eyes can see through the vast and condensed body of the earth?

3. Others yet have interiected such obscure and pitchy clouds, between their sight and this Sun of glory, that they cannot see. Whether of errors, that darken the light of the truth: Or of affected ignorance, that blinds their own eyes: Or of blasphemous Atheism; they will see nothing, but what they do see. Where is the promise of his coming? Since the Fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation. Nil noui video; I see no new thing: it was so, and it is so. Non aliud vidêre patres, aliudue nepotes Aspicient. Or of rude and crude impie •… ies, which both blear their own eyes, and shadow heavens graces from them. Thus the Devil deals with thē, as the Pharisees servants dealt with Christ: first they blind him, and then buffet him, and bid bim prophecy who smote him. First he puts out their eyes with their own iniquities, and then leads them about to make himself sport. They cannot see the way to bliss, they have blinded themselves; interposed such clouds betwixt them and heaven, that this glorious light cannot shine unto them. There must be then a clearer space: and this God grants to faith. Stephen full of the holy Ghost, looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of GOD, &c. Behold, I see the heavens open, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God. Though this be taken for more then a spiritual sight; yet hence we have this comfort; that our eyes of Faith shall see God now in Grace, and our eyes of flesh hereafter in glory.

6. Lastly, the object must be stable and firm, for if it move too swiftly, it dazzleth the eye, and cannot be truly (according to the perfect form of it) beholden. An oar in the river often seems to the passengers as if it were broke •… by reason of the swift and violent motion of the water. An arrow cuts the air with such quickness, that we can scarce discern it; which lying at the mark is easily seen. God hath therefore answered our desires, and fitted our understandings with a stable object: which Paul calls an exceeding & eternal weight of glory. A weight; substantial and permanent: not a light transient matter, nor a swift voluble nature; but weighty. Therefore let us not look on the things which are seen, but on the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal. It is here called an Inheritance, which none can take from us: that subtle Lawyer Satan, shall never be able to pick cavils against it.

You must not expect, that I should enter into a particular resolution of our objected comforts: I must reserve that to a more liberal time. Only now let us set them in our meditation, and settle our selves to attain them. Contemne we, condemn we the foolish choice of worldlings, in regard of our portion and better part, never to be taken from us. Why should I dislike my gold, because he prefers his copper? The least dram of these joys shall outwaigh all the pleasures of earth. And as one torment in hell shall make the reprobate forget all earthly vanities: so the least drop of this pleasure shall take from us the remembrance of our former miseries. We shall not think on our poverty in this world, when we possess those Riches: and forget our contemptible baseness, when God shall give us that Glory of Saints. He shall not much remember the days of his life, because God answereth him in the joy of his heart. God give us to see these things now in grace, that we hereafter may see them in glory.

The Agent, God.

The Rich man was purposing great matters, but he reckoned without his host: he resolves thus and thus; But God said to him. Hence two observations.

1. That the purposes of men are abortive, and never come to a happy birth, if God bless not their conception. Man purposeth, and God disposeth. The horse is prepared to the battle, but the victory is of the Lord. It is a holy reservation in all our purposes; Si Deo placuerit: If it shall please the Lord. Go to now ye that say, To day or tomorrow we will go into such a City, and continue there a year, & buy and sell, and get gain. Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. Ye ought to say, If the Lord will. For neither tongue can speak, nor foot move, if the Lord shall enervate them: as he did Zaobaries tongue in the Temple, and Jereboam's arm, when he would have reached it out against the Prophet. In vain man intends that, whereagainst God contends. Sisera resolves on victory, GOD crosseth it with overthrow. Yet thinks Sisera, Jael will succor me, For there is peace between Jabin King of Hazor, and the house of Heber the Kenite. No, even there •… he arm of the Lord is ready to encounter him; a draught of milk shall be his last draught, and the hand of a woman shall kill him, that hath escaped the hand of an Army.

The Jews may say, We will fly away 〈◊〉 swift horses. But God saith, Your Persecutors shall be swifter. Sennacherib purposeth to lick up Israel as the Ox grass; and though he found the Land before him as an Eden, to leave it behind him as Sodom; But God said, He shall go home without his errand: An hook in his nostrils shall rein him back. The King of Babylon says in his heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: and I will be like the most High. But God said, Thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit. H •… d made himself so sure of Christ, that rather then to fail of cutting off the prophesied King, he slays his own son: He might so, but he shall not touch God's Son. With what lavish promises do the Spaniards flatter themselves, when they baptized their Nauie with the name of Inv •… nsible? England is their own, they are already grasping it (warm with gore) in their clutches. But God said, Destruction shall inherit their hopes: and the remainder of ruin shall be only left to testify, what they would have done.

Men's thoughts promise often to themselves, Multa magna; many things, great things: they are plotted, contrived, commenced; yet die like Jonah's Gourd, when we should expect their refreshing: Quia non fort •… it Deus, because God hath not blessed them. Ambition may rear turrets in emulation of heaven: and vain-glory build Castles in the air; but the former shall have no roof, as the latter hath no foundation. Philip threatened the Lacedemonians, that if he entered their Country, he would utterly extinguish them. They wrote him no other answer but Si, If: meaning, it was a condition well put in, for he never was like to come there. Si S I non esset, perfectum quidlibet esset. But in the menaces of angry Tyrants, and purposes of hasty intenders, there is an If, an included condition, that infatuates all. Let our lesson hence be this.

That our purposes may be sped with a happy success, let us intend in the Lord, for the Lord. 1. Let us derive authority of our intentions from his sacred Truth; which gives rules not only to live well, and to speak well, but even ad been c •… gitandum, to think well. It is a wicked purpose to fast till Paul be killed; to wreak malice, to satisfy lust. Inauspicious and without speed are the intents, whose beginning is not from God. Let no purpose pass currant from thy heart, till God hath set on it his stamp and seal of approbation: Let his Word give it a Fiat: Whatsoever ye do, yea or intend to do, let both action of hand, and thought of heart be all to God's glory.

2. Let us in all our purposes reserve the first place for God's helping hand. Without me ye can do nothing, saith Christ. But it is objected that Paul spake peremptorily to his Corinthians. I will come unto you when I shall pass through Macedonia. And David, I will go to the house of the Lord. I answer, Cor tenet, quod lingua tacet: they that had so much grace in their hearts, wanted not this grace; et noscere et poscere facultatem Domini, to know and desire the Lord's permission. You shall never take men so well affected to good works, that do not implore God's assistance. Though they do not ever express in word, yet they never suppress in thought, that reservation; If it please God, as Paul doth afterwards in that place; If the Lord permit. If any will dare to resolve too confidently, patronizing their temerity from such patterns; as if their voluntates were potestates, let them know that like Taylours, they have measured others, but never took measure of themselves: that there is great difference betwixt a holy Propet or Apostle, and a profane Publican.

2. Observe, that God now speaks so to the Covetous, that he will be heard: he preacheth another kind of Sermon to him then ever he did before: a fatal, final, funeral Sermon, a Text of Judgment; This night shall they fetch away thy soul. For this is God's Lecture, himself reads it; But God said. He had preached to the worldling often before; and those Sermons were of three sorts.

1. By his Word. But cares of the world choke this Seed: the heart goes after covetousness; even whiles the flesh sits under the pulpit. This is the devils three-wing'd arrow, (wealth, pride, voluptuousness) whereby he nails the very heart fast to the earth. It is his talent of lead, which he hangs on the feet of the soul, the affections; that keeps her from mounting up into heaven: with the printed beauty of this filthy Harlot he bewitcheth their minds, steals their desires from Christ, and sends them a whoring to the hot Stews of hell. Thus is God's first Sermon quite lost.

2. By Judgments on others, whose smart should amaze him. For God, when he strikes others, warns thee, Tua res agitur, &c. When the next house is on fire, thy cause is in question. God hath smitten Israel, that Judah might fear. Though Israel play the Harlot, yet let not Judah offend. Ephraim is joined to Idols: let him alone. When the plague knocks at thy neighbors door, it tells thee, I am not far off. God's judgment on the Galileans, and men in Sil •… e is thus applied by Christ, to draw others to repentance, lest they likewise perish. But what if thousands fall on the worldlings right hand, & ten thousands about him, he dreams of no danger: his own gold gives him more content, then all this terror. The Devil hath hood-wink'd him with gain; and so carries him quietly (like a hooded hawk) on his fist without baiting to hell. This Sermon is lost also.

3. By crosses on himself; and this Sermon comes a little nearer to him; for it concerns his feeling. The first was objected to his ear, the second to his eye, this last to his sense. But as the first Sermon he would not hear, the next not see, so this he will not feel: he is stricken, but he hath not sorrowed. He imputes all to his ill luck, that he loseth the game of his worldly desires: he looks no more up to heaven, then if there was none. God is not in all his thoughts. All these Sermons are lost.

But now God will be heard: He said; he spoke home; a word and a blow. He will be understood, though not stood under. Uociferat, vulnerat: per dictum, per ictum. This is such a Sermon, as shall not pass without consideration. So he preached to Pharaoh, by frogs, flies, locusts, murraine, darkness: but when neither by Moses vocal, nor by these actual lectures he would be melted, the last Sermon is a Red Sea, that drowns him and his army. The Tree is bared, manured, watered, spared in expectancie of fruits: but when none comes, the last sermon is the Axe: it must be hewn •… down and cast into the fire. This kind of argument is unanswerable, and cannot be evaded. When God gives the Word, innumerable are the Preachers: if the lower voices will not be heard, death shall be feared. God knocks long by his Prophets, yea stands at the door himself; we will not open. But when this Preacher comes, he opens the door himself, and will not be denied entrance. All the day long have I stretched forth my hands unto thee; manum misericordiae, the hand of his mercy: it is not embraced. Now therefore he stretcheth out manum Iustitiae, the hand of his Justice; and this cannot be avoided. All that long Day is past, and now the worldlings Night comes. This night shall they require thy soul. The Rich man must hear this Sermon; there is no remedy. But GOD said. We are come from the Dooer, to

The Sufferer, or Patient;

And his title is, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , Thou fool. What? If this had come from a poor Tenants mouth, it had been held a petty kind of blasphemy. Is the rich man only held the wise man, at all parts; and doth God change his title with such a contradiction? Is the worlds gold become dross? the rich Idol a fool? It is even a maxim in common acceptation; He is wise, that is rich. Dives and Sapiens are voces conuertibiles; Rich and wise are convertible terms, imagined to signify one thing. When the rich man speaks, all the people give (bare-headed) silence and attention. As if no argument could evince such a necessity, as the chief Priests to Judas; Tantum dabo: So much will I give thee. Tantus valor in quatuor syllabis. Such force is there in four syllables, and but two words. It is not only eloquence, but enchantment; and they that use it, prevail like Sorcerers; unless perhaps they light upon (multis e millibus vnum) a Peter, Thou and thy money be damned together. If he that can plead by the strongest arguments, be the wisest man, how doth God call the Rich man Fool? If a man should travel through all conditions of the World, what gates would not open to the rich man's knock!

In the Church surely Religion should have the strongest force; yet riches thrusts in her head even under Religions arm, and speaks her mind. Money once brought the greatest Preacher of the Gospel, even the Author of the Gospel, Christ himself, to be judged before an earthly Tribunal. Now the Servant is not greater then his Lord: no wonder if money plays the rex still, and disposeth places to men of the greatest worldly (not the best heavenly) gifts. For a gift prospereth which way soever it goeth. It were somewhat tolerable, if money did only hinder us from what we should have; but it wrings from us also what we have.

In the Courts of Justice, Law should rule: yet often money over-rules law and Court too. It is a lamentable complaint in the Prophecy of Isaiah: Judgment is turned away backward, and Justice standeth a far off: for truth is fallen in the street; and equity cannot enter. If there must be contention, judgment should go forward; and is it turned backward? Justice should lay a close ear to the cause of the distressed; and must it stand a far off? Truth is fallen in the street. O the mercy of God! in the street? Had it fallen in the wilderness, it had been less strange; but in the street, where everybody passeth by, and nobody take it up! miserable iniquity. Equity cannot enter; what, not equity? Are they not called Courts of Equity? and must that which gives them denomination, be kept out? Now all this perversion, euersion of Justice is made by money. This turneth Judgment to wormwood, poisons a good cause: or at least into vinegar; as wine that stands long, becomes sour. And you are beholding to that Lawyer, that will restituere rem, get you your right, though he doth it cunctando; by delays. There is many one of whom that old verse may be inverted, Talis homo nobis cunctando diminuit rem.

In the wars valor bears a great stroke, yet not so great as money. That Macedonian Monarch was wont to say, He would never fear to surprise that City, whose gates were but wide enough for an asse laden with gold to enter. How many Forts, Castles, Cities, Kingdoms hath that blown up, before ever gunpowder was invented! I need name no more. What quality bears up so brave a head, but money gives it the check-mate! It answereth all things, saith Solomon. A feast is made for laughter, and wine maketh merry: but Money answereth all things. By all this it appears, that Riches is the greatest wisdom: but we must take out a writ, Ad melius inquirendum.

If wealth be wit, what means Christ here to call the Rich man Fool? yes, good reason. God hath made foolish the wisdom of this world. If God calls him so, he gets little to have the world esteem him otherwise. Not he that commendeth himself, nor whom the world commendeth, is approved, but whom the Lord commendeth. An ounce of credit with God, is worth a talent of men's praises. Frustra commendatur in terris, qui condemnatur in coelis. The world commends, but God condemns; which of these judgments shall stand?

I might here infer doctrinally, that all Covetous men be fools: and that in his censure, that cannot deceive, not be deceived. but I should prevent the issue of this Text, to say and show this now. I therefore content myself to say it now, to show it anon. It may be cavil'd, that Folly is rather a defect in the understanding, Covetousness in the affections. (For so they distinguish the soul, into the intellectual and affectionate part.) How then is this attribution of fool, proper to the worldling? The truth is, that the offense of the will & affections doth mostly proceed from the former error of the mind. Our desire, fear, love, hatred, reflecting on evil objects, arise from the deceived understanding. So there is a double error in the covetous man's mind, that makes him a fool.

1. He conceives not the sufficiency of God's help; and therefore leaves him, that will never leave his. He thinks God's treasury too empty to content him: he sees not his glory, and therefore will not trust him on bare promises. The good man sweetens his most bitter miseries with this comfort: The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance. But all God's wealth cannot satisfy him. O nimis auarus est, cui Deus non sufficit: He is unmeasurably covetous, whom God himself cannot satisfy. Here is one argument of his folly.

2. Having left God, who (rested on) would not have left him, he adheres to the world which cannot help him. The mind of man, like the Elephant, must have somewhat to lean upon: and when the Olive, Fig▪ tree, Vine are refused; he must put his trust under the shadow of the Bramble. When the Israelites had forsaken the King of Heaven, they make to themselves a Queen of heaven: Moses is gone, up, make us gods which shall go before us. Admiratur mundum, reijciens Dominum. He falls off from God, and falls in with the world. Here be both the parts of his folly: He hath committed two evils; forsaken the fountain of living waters, and hewed himself a broken cesterne. We see the Patient; let us come to

The Passion or suffering.

This is the point of war, which my Text sounds like a Trumpet, against all worldlings: This night shall thy soul be required of thee. Favor them in this, and they think all well; but in this of all they must not be favored. This suffering is aggravated by four

circumstances

• Quid. What; the Soul
• A quo, of whom: of thee
• Quomodo, how: shall be required
• Qando, when; this night.

What.

The Soul, thy soul: not thy Barns, nor thy crop; neither the continent, nor content: not thy gods, which thou holdest dear; not thy body which thou prizest dearer; but thy soul, which should be to thee dearest of all. Imagine the whole conuexe of heaven for thy Barn, (and that were one large enough) and all the riches of the world thy grain, (and that were crop sufficient:) yet put all these into one balance, and thy soul into the other; and thy soul out-waighes, out-values the world. What is the whole world worth to him that loseth his soul? The Soul is of a precious nature.

One in substance like the Sun, yet of diverse operations. It is confined in the body, not refined by the body, but is often most active, when her Jailor is most dull. She is a careful house-wife, disposing all well at home; conseruing all forms, and mustering them to her own serviceable use. The senses discern the outside, the circumstance, the husk of things: she the inside, the virtue, the marrow; resolving effects into causes; compounding, comparing, contemplating things in their highest sublimity. Fire turns coals into fire: the body concocts meat into blood; but the soul converts body into spirits; reducing their purest forms within her dimensiue lines. In man's composition there is a shadow of the Trinity. For to make up one man, there is an elementary body, a divine soul, and a firmamentall spirit. Here is the difference: In God there are three persons in one essence, in us three essences in one person. So in the Soul there is a trinity of powers, vegetable, sensitive, rational: the former would only be; the second be, and be well; the third be, be well, and before ever well. O excellent nature, in whose cabinet ten thousand forms may sit at once; which gives agitation to the body, without whom it would fall down a dead and inanimate lump of clay. This Soul shall be required.

Thy Soul which understands what delight is; and conceives a tickling pleasure in these covetous desires. But to satisfy thy soul, thou wouldst not be so greedy of abundance: for a little serves the body. If it have food to sustain it, garments to hide it, harbor to shelter it, liberty to refresh it, it is contented. And satiety of these things doth not (reficere, sed interficere) comfort, but confound it. Too much meat surfeits the body, too much apparel wearies it, too much wine drowns it: only Quod conuenit, conseruat. It is then the soul that requires this plenitude, and therefore from this plenitude shall the Soul be required.

Thy Soul, which is not made of a perishing nature, as the body; but of an everlasting substance: And hath by the eternity thereof a capablenes of moreioy, or moresorrow: it must be ever in heaven, or euerin hell. This night must this Soul receive her doom; thy Soul shall be required.

That Soul which shall be the bodies perpetual companion, saving a short divorce by the hand of death in the grave: but afterwards ordained to an everlasting re-union. Whereas all worldly goods being once broken off by death, can never again be recovered. The soul shall return to the body, but riches to neither; and this Soul must be required.

This is a loss, a cross beyond all, that the worldlings imagination can give being to. How differ the wicked's thoughts dying, from their thoughts living! In the days of their peace they forget to get for the soul any good. Either it must rest it self on these inferior props, or despair of refuge. The eye is not scanted of lustful objects, the ear of melodious sounds, the palate of well rellishing viands. But the souls eye is not fastened on heaven, nor her ears on the Word of God: her taste savors not the bread of life; she is neither brought to touch, nor to smell on Christ's Vesture. Animas habent, quasi inanimata vivunt: regarding their flesh, as that pamperd Roman did his; and their souls as he esteemed his horse: who being a spruce, neat, and fat Epicure, & riding on a lean scragling Iade, was asked by the Censors the reason. His answer was, Ego curo meipsum, statius vero equum: I look to myself, but my man to my horse. So these worldlings look to their bodies, let who will take care of their souls.

But when this night comes, with what a price would they purchase again their Souls, so mortgaged to the devil for a little vanity! Now curare non volunt, then recuperare non valent. With what studious and artificial cost is the body adorned, whiles the beggarly soul lies in tottered rags! The flesh is pleased with the purest flower of the Wheat, and reddest blood of the grape, the soul is famished. The body is allowed liberty, even to licentiousness, the Soul is under Satan's lock and key, shackled with the fetters of ignorance and impiety. At this nights terror, to what bondage, hunger, cold, calamity, would they not subject their bodies; to free their souls out of that friendless and endless prison! Why cannot men think of this before it be too late? It will sound harshly in thine ear, O thou riotous or avarice worldling, when this Passing-bell rings; Thy soul shall be required. If the Prince should confiscate thy goods, which thou lovest so dearly, this news would strike cold to thy heart: but here thy soul is confiscate. The devil prizeth this most: he says, as the King of Sodom to Abraham, Da mihi animas, caetera sumetibi: Give me the Soul, take the rest to thyself.

Of whom.

Of thee; that hadst so provided for thy soul in another place: for though earth be a dungeon in regard of heaven, yet is it a Paradise in respect of hell. This world was his selected and affected home; and from thence shall death pluck him out by the ears.

If this news of the Souls requiring had come to a faithful Christian, he would have welcommed it; and judged it only the voice of the Feast-maker, finding him in the humble room of this base earth; Friend, sit up higher. Or that voice of heaven that spake to John; Come up hither. Sit no longer in the vale of tears, but ascend the mountain of glory. A trumpet calling him to Mount Tabor, where he shall be transfigured forever. This time would be to him, the non vltra of his joys and desires: he fought all his combat for this, that he might receive the end of his faith, the salvation of his soul. He is content to live here till God call him; but his desire is to be dissolved, and to be with Christ. Bonus vitam habet in patientia, mortem in desiderio. He is patient to live, but willing to die. To him the day of death is better then the day of his birth. Job cursed the day of his birth. And Jeremiah said, Let not the day wherein my Mother bare me be blessed. But blessed is the hour of death: So saith the Spirit; blessed are they that die in the Lord, for they rest from their labors. Both Philosophers and Poets could so commend the happiness of this time, that they thought no good man truly happy till it saluted him.

The Ethnikes ignorant of a better life future, honor'd this with great solemnities, and kept prodigal feasts on their Birth-days; as Herod when he was served with the Baptists head for his second course. But the Christians were wont to celebrate the funerals of the Martyrs; as if we did then only begin truly to live when we die. For though the soul is gotten when man is made, yet it is (as it were) borne when he dies: his body being the womb, and death the Midwife, that delivers it to glorious perfection. The good man may then well say, Mors mihi munus erit, with a Poet; or rather, Death shall be my advantage, with an Apostle. His happiest hour is, when In manus tuas Domine, he can say, Into thy hands, Lord, I commend my soul. For Anima nō amittitur, sed praemittitur.

But this Of thee is terrible. Thou that never preparedst for death; were at a league with hell, securely rocked asleep in the cradle of thy Barn, that didst put far away from thee the evil day, & given it a charge de non instando: thou that cryedst Peace, peace, on thee shall come sudden destruction: thou that saidst Soul be merry, to sorrow shall Thy soul be required. Thou that never esteemedst thy soul so dear as thy wealth, but didst set that after thy stables, which might have been equal to Angels; Thy soul. Thou that wert loath to hear of death, as having no hope of future bliss; that wouldest not give thy possession on earth, for thy expectation in heaven: as that French Cardinal, that said; He would not give his part in Paris for his part in Paradise. Of thee shall a soul be required. This point is sharp, and makes up his misery.

How. Required.

The original is 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , They shall require it. This is such a requiring, as cannot be withstood. GOD requires thy obedience, thou deniest it: the poor require thy charity, thou deniest it: the World requires thy equity, thou deniest it. But when thy soul shall be required, there must be no denying of that; it cannot be withheld. Who shall require this soul?

Not God; he required it in thy life, to sanctify it, and save it, thou wouldest not hearken to him; now he will none of it. What should God doewith a drunken, profane, covetous, polluted, sensual soul? He offered it the Gospel, it would not believe; the blood of Christ, it would not wash and be clean: it is foul and nasty, God requires it not. Or if he require it, it is to judge and condemn it, not to reserve and keep it. Recusabit Deus iam oblatum, quod negabas illi requisitum. God will refuse thy soul now offered, which thou deniedst him whiles he desired.

Not heaven; those chrystalline walks are not for muddy feet, nor shall lust-infected eyes look within those holy doors. In no wise shall enter into that City anything that defileth, or worketh abomination. There is a room without for such, Chap. 22. 15. a black room for black works. What should a worldling do in heaven? his heart so full of envy and covetise, would not brook another's felicity. If there be no gold there, he cares not for coming at it. But he shall be fitted; for as he requires not heaven, so heaven requires not him. It will spare him no place; not that it wants room to receive him, but because his heart wants room to desire it. The unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God. But because this general menace doth not terrify him, read his particular name in the bill of inditement, ver. 10. Nor the Covetous. Heaven is for men of an heavenly conversation. It was but Nebuchadnezzar's dream, Dan. 2. GOD will not set a golden head upon earthen feet; give the glory of heaven, to him that loves nothing but the baseness of this world.

The Angels require it not; those celestial Porters, that carry the souls of the Saints, as they did the soul of Lazarus, into the bosom of Abraham, have no commission for this man's soul. This rich man might be wheeled and whirled in a Coach, or perhaps Pope-like, be borne on men's shoulders; but the poor beggar, whose hope is in heaven though his body on earth, that could neither stand, go, nor sit, is now carried in the highest state, by the very Angels; when the other dying, hath no better attendance then devils.

And so if you ask, who then require his soul; since neither God, nor heavē, nor the blessed Angels will receive it; why, devils: they that have right to it by God's just decree, for his unjust obedience. God's justice so appoints it, for his sins have so caused it, Satan challengeth his due, his officers require it. Thou hast offended, oh miserable Cosmopolite, against thy great Sovereigns Law, Crown, and Majesty; now all thou hast is confiscate; thy goods, thy body, thy soul. Thou, whose whole desires were set to scrape all together, shalt now find all scattered asunder: thy close congestion meets with a wide dispersion. Everyone claims his own: the world thy riches, the worms thy carcass, the devil thy soul. Lust hath transported thine eyes, blasphemy thy tongue, pride thy foot, oppression thy hand, covetousness thy heart; now Satan requires thy soul. Not to give it ease, rest, or supply to the defects of thy insatiate desires; no, dabit in cruciatum, he shall deliver it over to torment.

When. This night.

In this dark Quando lie hid two fearful extremities; Sadness, and Suddennesse. It is not only said, In the night, but in This night.

1. In the Night; this aggravates the horror of his judgment. The night is a sad and uncomfortable time: therefore misery is compared to the Night, and joy said to come in the Morning. Pray that your flight be not in the night, saith Christ to the Jews; as if the dismal time would make desperate their sorrow. The night presents to the fantasie, which then lies most patient of such impressions, many deceiving and affrightful imaginations. Well then may a true (not fantasied) terror work strongly on this wretches heart, whiles the night helps it forward. All sickness is generally stronger by night, then by day: this very circumstance of season then aggravates his misery; making at once his grief stronger, himself weaker.

But what if we look further then the literal sense; and conceive by this night the darkness of his soul? Such a blindness as he brings on himself, though the day of the Gospel be broke round about him. The cause of night to a man, is the interposition of the earth betwixt him and the Sun. This worldling hath placed the earth, the thick and gross body of riches, between his eyes and the Sun of righteousness. And so shine the Sun never so clear, it is still night with him. There is light enough without him, but there is darkness too much within him. And then darkness must to darkness; inward to outward, as Christ calls it, utter darkness. He would not see whiles he might, he shall not see when he would. Though he shall forever have fire enough, yet it shall give him no light: except it be a little glimmering, to show him the torments of others, and others the torments of himself.

2. This night, the sadness is yet increased by the sodainnesse. It will be fearful, not only to be surprised in the night, but in that night when he doth not dream of any such matter; when there is no fear, nor suspicion of apprehension. His case is, as with a man that having rested with a pleasing slumber, and been fed with a golden dream; suddenly waking finds his house flaming about his ears, his wife and children dying in the fire, robbers ransacking his coffers, and transporting his goods, all lovers forsaking, no friend pitying, when the very thrusting in of an arm might deliver him. This rich man was long asleep, and been delighted with pretty wanton dreams, of enlarged barns, and plentiful haruests; (as all worldly pleasures are but waking dreams) now he starts up on the hearing of this Soul-knell, and perceives all was but a dream; and that indeed he is everlastingly wretched.

The suddennes increaseth the misery. The rich man hath no time to dispose his goods, how shall he do with his soul? If in his health, wealth, peace, strength; succoured with all the helps of nature, of opportunity, preaching of the Gospel, counsel of ministers, comfort of friends, he would not work out his salvation: what shall he do when extreme pangs deny capableness to receive them, and shortness of his time prevents their approaching to him? He hath a huge bottom of sin to vnrauell by repentance, which he hath been many years winding up by disobedience: now a great work, and a little time do not well agree. This sudden call is fearful, This night shall thy soul be required. Yet before I part from this point, let me give you two notes.

1. There is mercy in God, that it is hac nocte, this night; not this hour, not this moment. Hac nocte was sudden, but hoc momento had been more sudden; and that this larger exhibition of time is allowed, was God's mere mercy, against the worldlings merit. He that spared Nineveh many forties of years, will yet allow her forty days. He that forbore this wretch many days, receiving no fruit worth his expectation, will yet add a few hours. God in the midst of justice remembers mercy: much time he had received, and abused; yet he shall have a little more. When the Lord's hand is lifted up to strike him, yet he gives him some lucida interualla monitionis, warning before he lets it down. But let not the worldling presume on this: sometimes, not an hour, not a minute is granted. Sword, Palsy, Apoplexy, Impostume makes quick dispatch: and there is no space given to cry for mercy. But what if a paucity of hours be permitted? ancient wounds are not cured in haste, the plaster must lie long upon them. There was one man so saved, to take away desperation: and but one so saved, to bar presumption. Conversion at the eleventh hour is a wonder, at the twelfth a miracle. All thieves do not go from the gallhouse to glory, because one did; no more then all Asses speak, because God opened the mouth of one. Flatter not thyself with hope of time. Nemo sibi promittat, quod non promittit Euangelium. Let no man promise himself a larger patent, then the Gospel hath sealed to him.

2. The day of the wicked turns at last to a night. After the day of vanity, comes the night of judgment. Now is the time, when the rich man's Sun sets; his light and his delight is taken from him. His last sand is run out; the clock hath ended his latest minute, his night is come. His day of pleasure was short, his night of sorrow is everlasting. Extremum gaudij luctus occupat. Vexation treads on the heels of vanity. Mans life is compared to a Day.

This day to some may be distinguished into twelve hours. The first gives us nativity; even in this hour there is sin; an original pravity, indisposition to good, proneness to evil. Secondly, Infancy; God now protects the cradle. Thirdly, Childhood; and now we learn to speak and to swear together; the sap of iniquity begins to put out. Fourthly, Tender age, wherein toys and gawdes fill up our scene. Fifthly, Youth: this is a madding, a gadding time. Remember not the sins of this time, prays David: their remembrance is bitter, says Job. Sixthly, Our high noon. God that could not be heard before for the loud noise of vanity, now looks for audience, for obedience. Seventhly, This is full of cares & crosses; the dugs of the world taste bitter; it is full time that this hour should wean us. Eighthly, Brings us to a sense of mortality, we feel our blood decaying. Ninthly, Our bodies go crooked and stooping, to put us in mind that they are going to their original earth. Tenthly, We are even as dying: we do die by degrees: our senses first fail us, our eyes are dim like old Isaac's, our ears deaf, our taste dull: our grinders are done, our stilts unable to support us. Eleventhly, We are a burden to our selves, to our friends: we long for death, if any hope of a better life hath possessed our hearts. The twelfth hour it comes. Which of these hours pass over us without God's mercies, without our voluntary unthankfulness; unless those first hours wherein our ignorance is incapable of such observance? All thy day long have I stretched out my hands unto thee, saith God. If none of these hours reclaim us, our day is spent, and the night comes; that night wherein no man can work; actively to comfort, though passively he work forever in torment. I know, that God cuts many one short of most of these hours, and often shuts up his day-light, before he comes to his noon. But howsoever man pass from Infancy to childhood, from childhood to youth, from youth to age: yet senectutem nemo excedit; none can be more then old. Though tam senex nemo, quin putet se annum posse viuere; no man is so old, but still he thinks he may live another year. And therefore lightly the older, the more covetous; and Quo minus viae restat, eo plus viatici qu •… ritur: the less journey men have, the more provision they make.

God allows this liberal time to some: but what enemies are we to our selves, that of all these twelve hours, allow our selves not one! Many post off their conversion from day today, sending Religion afore them to thirty, and then putting it off to forty; and not pleased yet to overtake it, promise it entertainment at threescore: at last death comes and allows not one hour. In youth men resolve to allow themselves the time of age to serve God: in age they shuffle it off to sickness; when sickness comes, care to dispose their goods, loathness to die, hope to escape martyrs that good thought; and their resolution still keeps before them the length of Gracious street at least. If we have but the lease of a Farm for twenty years, we make use of the time and gather profit. But in this precious Farm of Time we are so ill husbands, that our Lease comes out, before we are one pennyworth of grace the richer by it. Take heed; it is dangerous trifling out thy good day, lest thou hear this message in the evening; This night shall thy soul be required of thee:

It were somewhat if thou mightest perpetually enjoy them thyself: if thou couldst fetch down eternity to them. As those in the 49. Psalm; whose inward thought is, that their houses shall continue forever, and their dwelling places to all generations: they call their lands after their own names. But there is a Quamdiù, and a Quousque. How long! Hab. 2. How long? Thou that lodest thyself with thick clay? How far! Esa. 14. How far? Thou that madest the earth to tremble, and didst shake the Kingdoms. Here is a Non vltra to both: thy power is confined, thy time is limited: both thy latitude and extension are briefed up; heeres thy period; a full stop in the midst of the sentence. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 . Whose shall those things be which thou hast provided? He that should read thy history (being ignorant of thy destiny) and find so plentiful a happiness in the first page of the book: grounds so fertile, cattle so prospering, house so furnished, possibilities stro •… king thy hopes, hopes milking thy desires, desires dancing to the tune of thy pleasures; promises of larger barns, more opulent fruits; and all this with ease, yea with hearts-ease: Soul be merry: and coming now to the end of the page, but not of the sentence; turning over a new leaf, thinking there to read the maturity and perfection of all, should find a blank, an abrupt period, an unlooked for stop, would surely imagine, that either destiny was mistaken, or else some leaves were torn out of the book. Such a Cuius erunt haec omnia would be a terrible dash in a story of happiness so fairly written, and promising so good an Epilogue. But here is his end, you must read him no further: He, whom you have seen this day, you shall see him again no more forever. Whose shall these things be, O worldling? Were thy grounds as Eden, and thy house like the Court of Jehoiakim: yet dost thou think to reign, because thou closest thyself in Cedar? no; aduenit finis t •… us; Thy end is come; Whose shall these things be?

It were something yet, if thy children might enjoy these riches. But there is a man that hath no child; yet is there no end of his labor, neither is his eye satisfied with wealth. And he saith not, For whom do I travel, and bereave my soul of this good? The prodigal would be his own heir and Executor: but this covetous man bequeaths neither legacy to himself, nor to any known Inheritour. The other desires to see en end of all his substance: this man to see only the beginning. He hunts the world full cry, yet hath no purpose to overtake it: he lives behind his wealth, as the other lives beyond it. But suppose he▪ hath children, and then though he famish himself to feed them fat; though he be damned, yet if his son may be made a Gentleman, there is some satisfaction. But this Cuius erunt is a scattering word, and of great uncertainty. Whose shall they be? perhaps not thy children's. They say, Happy is that son, whose father goes to the Devil; but thou mayest go to the Devil, and yet not make thy son happy. For men make heritages, but God makes heirs. He will wash away the unholy seed, and cut off the generation of the wicked. Solomon had a thousand wives and concubines, and consequently many children; yet at last he wants one of his seed to sit upon the throne of David, or to bear rule in Judah: and S. Luke derives Christ from Nathan the younger brother. For thus saith God of C •… oniah, whom he calls Coniah; cutting short at once his name, his life, his hope of posterity. Write this man childless. It often so falls out, that to a man exceeding wealthy, is denied a fuccessour of his own loins. Let him have children, he is not sure those children shall possess his riches. But those riches perish by evil travel: and he begetteth a son, and there is nothing in his hand. A scatterer succeeds a gatherer: auari heres dissipans: the father loved the world too well, and the son cares not for it. The sire was all for the rake, and the son is all for the pitchforke. So Whose shall these be? even his that will one day pity the poor. He will love the poor so well, that he will not rest til he be poor with them for company. This is the portion of the wicked, & the heritage which oppressors shall receive of the Almighty. If their children be multiplied, it is for the sword, and their offspring shall not be satisfied with bread.

Children are a great plea for Covetousness, for Oppression. Art thou covetous because thou hast children? Remember to make Christ one of thy children. If thou hast one, make him the second: if two, make him the third; if three, the fourth: how many soever thou hast, let Christ be one; let the poor have a childes part. This is the way to get a blessing to all the rest: when Christ is made a brother to thy children, and hath a legacy bequeathed him; he will bless the portions of the other; the seed of the righteous shall not beg their bread. It is a sweet verse of the Psalm, worthy of observation, as it is full of comfort. The good man is ever merciful, and lendeth, and his seed is blessed. The world thinks, the more a man giveth away, the less should be left to his children: but the Lord witnesseth otherwise: let a man lend to the borrower, give to the beggar, be merciful to the distressed, and this is the way to make his Seed blessed. Charitable works do not hinder the children's wealth, but further it: what thou givest to the poor, will be a sure vndecaying portion to thy posterity. Duplicatum erit filijs iusti, quod iustus dedit filijs Dei. GOD will double that to thy children, which thou hast given to his children. Men flatter themselves, and cozen their consciences, with a tolerablenesse of usury; when monies be put out for their children's stocks. Alas, saith a man, I can leave my children but a little: but by that they come to age of discretion to use it, it will be iollily increased. I may be quickly gone, & when I am dead, they have no skill to employ it; I will therefore safe-bind it for them, by good bonds with allowance of interest.

God often in the Scriptures hath promised to be a Father of the fatherless, and to provide for those, whom the Parents faith have left to his protection. By this promise did Christ commend himself to his Disciples, I will not leave you Orphans: we translate it comfortless, the original is Orphans, or fatherless children. The Lord relieueth the fatherless, and the widow. You may read 2. Kin. 4. that God would work a miracle; rather then a poor widow, with her two fatherless children, should want. Hath God made himself their Guardian, and must their means be secured by usurious contracts? Surely GOD hath just reason to take this the most unkindly of all the rest. Leave not thy children the inheritance of thy sin, turn not the providence of God from them by iniquity, who hath promised to protect them, if committed to him. Loe the wit of a worldly man! he takes thought to make his children rich, and yet takes the only course to undo them. No casualty shall fall upon their stocks, (so they plot) by an act of God or man: but here certain loss falls presently upon their souls; and a final ruin shall impartially at last consume their estates. For God will blast the stocks and branches, that are planted in the moorish and muddy ground of usury. The dependence on God is abandoned, and how justly may the Lord forsake them, that forsake him! Neither is this sin only damnable to the Parents, but also dangerous to the children: who are by this means died in the very wool of their youth, with the scarlet wickedness of Usury.

There was a Devil, whom the Disciples of Christ could not cast out: and when Christ expelled him, the spirit tare the man, and he fell on the ground wallowing and foaming. Christ then asked, How long is it ago since this came unto him? To which the Father answered; Of a child. If Usury be hardly thrown out of the affections, the wonder is little; seeing that devil hath possessed him of a child. The new mortar, wherein Garlike hath been stamped, will not a great while lose the smell. It is a fearful advantage, that thou givest Satan over thy children, when thou bringest them up in Usury.

As much might be said for Oppression; thy depopulations pull down the Country, that thou mayest build up thy posterity. Which way canst thou turn thine eyes from beholding the infatuation of such hopes? One generation is thus raised up high; and the next comes down as low, even to contempt and beggary.

But perhaps if thou hast no children, yet thou hast a brother. There is one alone, and there is not a second: yea, he hath neither child nor brother, yet is there no end of his labor. Say thou hast a brother, yet is not Christ thy brother in Heaven, dearer to thee then any son of thy mother? Is not he that hath adopted thee coheire to his eternal purchase, an inheritance of glory, worthy of some part of thy earthly possessions? Never brother did so much for thee as he hath done. Nature made a man thy brother in thy Parents blood; he made thee his brother by his own blood. Remember then his needy brethren, and in him thine. He is nearest in blood, that is dearest in good: but if thou hast any faith, none did thee ever so much good as Christ. And to take away all plea from the heart of uncharitableness, Christ calls the poor his Brethren, affirms their releeuers Blessed, and invites them to an everlasting kingdom. In as much as ye have done it to the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. But thou hast a brother in the flesh: wilt thou therefore covet, extort, oppress, and so go to hell for thy brother? It is ill done in any to divert amorem fratris, in odium sui; the love of his brother into hate against himself. Yet is not this all, but when thou hast purposed most for thy brother, God shall disappoint him of all. Whose shall these things be? no not thy brothers. To the sinner the Lord gives travail, to gather and to heap up: but at last he bestows that heap of treasure upon him that is good before God. Thou bequeathest it to thy brother, but God dispose •… h it to his children. But thou hast no brother; Yet thou hast kindred and friends; and to help thy Couzens to wealth, thou wilt cozen thy own soul. Alas! it is a mystery of knowledge, to discern friends. Wealth maketh many friends: they are friends to the wealth, not to the wealthy. They regard not Qualis sis, but Quantus: not how good thou art, but how great. They admire thee to thy face, but inwardly consider thee only as a necessary evil, yea a necessary devil: and when thou diest, are ready to sing thy soul a Dirige to hell. If thine eyes be ever opened, thou wilt hate such suborners of bastard thoughts to thy heart: as a recovered man, having drunk a loathsome potion in his sickness, doth ever after hate the very cruse it was brought him in. But say, thy friends stick truer to thee, and one holds thy aking head, another runs for Physic, a third, by helping thee to change sides, seeks to mitigate thy pains; yet still thou complainest of vnremedied torments. Oh then hadst thou not better make the God of comfort thy friend; who would neither be wanting in his presence, nor scanting in his consolations?

Worldly friends are but like hot water, that when cold weather comes, are soonest frozen. Like Cuckooes, all Summer they will sing a scurvy note to thee, but they are gone in July at furthest: sure enough before the fall. They flatter a rich man, as we feed beasts, till he be fat, and then feed on him. A true friend reproves thee erring, though perhaps not suddenly. Iron is first heat, then beaten: first let him be heat with due and deserved praise for his good, then cool and work him with reprehension for his evil. As Nurses when their children are fallen, first take them up, and speak them fair; and chide or correct them afterwards. These friends love not thy souls good, but thy bodies goods: let them not carry away thy heart from Christ. But if thou so resoluest, that these friends shall enjoy thy riches: yet God saith, Cuius erunt, whose shall they be? Thy kindred or friends shall not eat the grapes of thy planted vineyard: no, a stranger shall eat thereof. God giveth not thee power to eat thereof; no nor him thou desirest; but a stranger eateth it. Dabitur digniori, it shall be given to one good in God's sight. Perhaps to such a man's posterity, whom thou now scornest. The wicked heap up silver as the dust, and prepare raiment as the clay. They may prepare it: but the just shall put it on, & the innocent shall devide the silver.

Now see thy folly, O covetous Churl, whose desires were all set on a Nunquam satis; Whose shall those things be? Not whom thou choosest, but whom God appointeth. Thy children are God's charge, if thou wilt faithfully trust him with them: otherwise, couldst thou bind thy lands, and bequeath thy goods; settle thy whole estate, so sure as either strength of Law, or wit of Lawyers can devise, yet Cuius erunt; whose shall these things be? Lo, now thou hast enough: thy head aches, thy conscience pricks, death requires thy body, Satan thy soul: couldst thou not wish that thy Barns had been less, and thy charity more? That as GOD blessed thy store, so thou hadst returned some liberal testimony of thankfulness to his Church & poor again? Especially, when neither thyself, nor thy Assigns shall enjoy these things. Whose shall they be?

All these particulars suruaied, give the covetous Cosmopolite three brands. He is branded in his Soul, in his riches, in his good name. In his Soul, Thy Soul shall be fetched away. In his riches, Whose shall these things be which thou hast provided? In his name, Thou fool •… . Whereupon we may justly infer this Conclusion; as the

Sum

Of all: that abundant wealth can bring no good, either to Soul, Body, or Name. Man is said to have three lives; Spiritual, Corporal, and Civil, as the Lawyers call it: the life of his good name. Neither to this, nor to the life of his Soul or Body, can multitude of riches confer any good. This Text shall prove it in all the particulars.

1. To the Soul can opulency procure no benefit. All Christians know that good for the Soul is the passion and merits of Christ; faith to apprehend these; repentance to mortify sins: sanctification to give us celestial lives; and salvation to glorify our persons. But can any of these be bought with money? Thou and thy money perish together, that thinkest the gifts of God may be purchased with money. God will not barter away his graces (as the Indians their gold) for thy gawdes and rattles. He will not take the mortgage of a Lordship for the debt thou owest him. The smoke of thy sacrifice smells never the sweeter, because thou art clothed in silks; or canst sit down to tell thy Michaelmasse thousands. Thy adulteries cannot be commuted for in heaven, nor thy usuries be answered by a fine before the Tribunal of the highest. Thou mayest as soon and easily mount up to heaven with wings of lead, as by feathers of wealth. Indeed they can do a man as much good in distress of conscience, as to have his head bound with a wet cloth in a cold morning can cure the headache. If wealth could keep a man from hell, how few rich men would be damned? But he is not sanctior quiditior; nor is salvation vendible to a full purse. The doctrine of Rome may affirm it; but the decree of God will not afford it. This Cosmopolite had barns and bars, but these cannot hedge in his Soul; that is required.

2. To the body perhaps there is some more expectation of good; but no more success. Thou art anguished; will thy wealth purchase health? Sleep is denied thy senses, and after many changed sides and places, thou canst find no rest: go now, empty thy coffers, and try what slumber the charms and chimes of gold can ring thee. Thy stomach loathes meat; all thy riches are not sufficient sauce, to get thee an appetite. Couldst thou drink Cleopatra's draught, it will not ease thy head-ache. The Physician will take thy money, and give thee Physic: but what Physic will give thee infallible health?

But the rich man hath a fire, when the poor sits cold: the rich an harbor, attendance, and delicate provision, when the poor wants both house and home, meat and money, garments and company. For though riches gather many friends; the poor is separated from his neighbors. No part of my Sermon hath denied, but the competency of these earthly things is a blessing: neither dare I infer, that the want of these is a curse; for the best have wanted them, not the Savior of men himself excepted. But what is this to abundance? Is not he as warm that goes in russet, as another that russles and ruffles in his silks? Hath not the poor laborer as sound a sleep on his flock-bed, or pad of straw, as the Epicure on his downebed, with his rich curtains and coverings? Doth not Quiet lie oftener in Cottages, then in glorious mannors? The sleep of a laboring man is sweet, whether he eat little or much: but the abundance of the rich will not suffer him to sleep. And for a good appetite, we see the toiling servant feed savorly of one homely dish, when his surfeited master looks lothingly on his far-fetched, and dearebought dainties: sitting down to his second meal in a quandary whether he should eat of his best dish or nothing: his stomach being such a coward, that it dares not fight with a chicken. This Gentleman envies the happiness of his poor Hind, and would be content to change states with him, upon condition he might change stomachs. It is not then the plenitude, but competency of these things, that affords even the rich content. So that a man's estate should be like his garment, rather fit then long: for too much troubles him; and the satiety of these earthly riches doth rather kill, then conserve the Body.

3. The name perhaps hath some hope of luxurious share in this abundance, and thinks to be swelled into a Colossus; over-straddling the world. Indeed here's the Center: for I persuade myself, few worldlings can propound to themselves any well-grounded expectation of good to their souls, or help to their bodies, by their accumulation of treasures. Only in his nomen potius quàm omen quaeritur; there is more hope of a great name, then of good content. And now for the Name; what's the event? Come his riches ill, his credit is the Commons curse. Populus sibilat, the world rails at him living: and when he dies, no man says, It is pity; but It is pity he died no sooner. They shall not lament for him, with Ah Lord, or Ah his glory. But he shall be buried with the burial of an Ass; that hath lived the life of a Wolf. His glorious Tomb erected by his enriched heir, shall be saluted with execrations: and the passengers by will say, Here lies the Devils Promoter. Come his wealth well, yet what is Credit, or how may we define a good Name? Is it to have a Pageant of crindges & faces acted to a taffaty Iacket? To be followed by a world of hang-byes; and howted at by the reeling multitude, like a bird of Paradise, stuck full of py'd feathers? To be daub'd over with court-mortar, flattery; and set up as a Butte, for whores, panders, drunkards, cheaters, to shoot their commendations at? To be licked with a sycophants rankling tongue; and to have poor men crouch to him, as little dogs use to a great mastiff? Is this a good name? Is this credit? Indeed these things may give him a great sound: as the clapper doth to a bell; makes it have a great sound, but the bell is hollow. They are empty gulls, whose credit is nothing else but a great noise, forced by these lewd clappers. A rich worldling is like a great Cannon, and flatterers praises are the powder that charge him; whereupon he takes fire, and makes a great report; but instantly goes off, goes out in stench. He may think himself the better, but no wise man, no good man doth: and the fame that is derived from fools, is infamy.

That which I take to be a good Name, is this: Laudari a Lande dignis; to be well esteemed of in Christian hearts; to find reverence in good men's souls. Bonum est laudari, sed praestat esse laudabilem. It is a good thing to be praised, but it is a better to be praise-worthy. It is well that good men commend thee in their consciences, but it is better when thy good conscience can commend thee in it self. Happy is he, whose own heart doth not condemn him. This credit wealth cannot procure, but grace: not goods, but goodness. The poorest man serving God with a faithful heart, finds this approbation in sanctified affections, when golden asses go without it. I confess, many rich men have had this credit, but they will never thank their riches for it. Their greatness never helped them to this name, but their goodness. They have honored the Lord, and those the Lord hath promised that he will honor. So that all the reputation which wealth can procure a man in God's judgment, is but Thou fool. In that parabolical history, Luk. 16. mention is made of a rich man, but none of his name; as if it were unworthy to stand in the Lord's book. Here is all the credit of the wicked; their very memories shall rotte; and their great Name shall either not be remembered, or remembered with detestation.

Loe now the benefit of worldly wealth; & the brands which disfigure the Soul, Body, Name of covetous men. For his Reputation, Folly challengeth it: for his riches, uncertainty devours it: for his Soul, Satan claims it. He is gone in all respects; and now there is nothing left of him, but his infamy in the thoughts of men, his goods in the keeping of the world, his body in the prison of the grave, and his soul in the hand of hell. Abijt, he is gone: a tempest hath stole him away in the night; saith Job. The rich man shall lie down, but he shall not be gathered: he openeth his eyes, and he is not. Therefore it is said, Luk. 16. There was a certain rich man; Erat, non est, there was, there is not, he is now gone. I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a green Bay tree. Yet he passed away, and l •… e be is not: yea I sought him, but he could not be found.

To conclude, it may yet be objected; that though much wealth can procure to soul, body, or name, no good; yet it may be an antidote to prevent some evil, or a medicine to rid them all of some malady. The insufficiency of such a promise in riches, is punctually also confuted in this Text. For neither the Rich man's Soul, body, nor estate is secured by his abundance. Infernal spirits fetch his soul: temporal men possess his wealth: eternal censures blast his good name: and the worms prey upon his carcass. What evil then can riches either prevent or remove from man?

1. Not from the soul: all evil to this, is either Poenae, or Culpae; of sin, or of punishment for sin.

For Sin, what vice is euacuated by riches? Is the wealthy man humbled by his abundance? no, he is rather swelled into a frothy pride; conceiting himself more then he is, or at least imagining, that he is either ( 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 ) or ( 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 ,) the man or somebody. And as pride is radix omnis peccati; the root of all sin; so riches is the root of pride, Diuitiarum vermis superbia, saith S. Augustine. When the sum of prosperity heats the dunghill of riches, there is engendered the snake of pride. Wealth is but a quill, to blow up the bladder of high-mindedness. Saint Paul knew this inseparable consequence, when he charged Timothy, to Charge them that are rich in this world, that they be not high-minded. And do we think that the heat of malice will be slaked by riches? no, it is fired rather into combustion; and now bursts forth into a flame, what before was forced to lie suppressed in the embers of t •… e heart. Is any man the more continent for his abundance? No. Stat quaeuis multo meretrix mercabilis auro: whores are led to hell with golden threads. Riches is a warm nest, where lust securely sits to hatch all her unclean brood. From fullness of bread, the Sodomites fall to unnatural wantonness. Ceres et Liber pinguescunt Venerem. Oppression is not abated by multiplication of riches; but rather Longiorem & magis strenuam reddit manum; gives it a longer and stronger arm. For as the poor cannot withstand, so the rich will not restrain the tyranny of great oppressors. They covet fields, and take them by violence: how? Because their hand hath power.

For Punishment, what security is in money? Doth the Devil balk a Lorldly house, as if he were afraid to come in? Dares he not tempt a rich man to lewdness? Let experience witness, whether he dare not bring the highest Gallant both to sin & shame. Let his food be never so delicate, he will be a guest at his table; and perhaps thrust in one dish to his feast, drunkenness. Be his attendance never so complete, yet Satan will wait on him too. Wealth is no charm to conjure away the Devil: such an amulet & the Popes holy-water, are both of a force. Inward vexations forbear not their stings, in awe of riches. An evil conscience dares perplex a Saul in his Throne, and a Judas with his purse full of money. Can a silken sleeve 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 keep a broken arm from aking? Then may full Barns keep an evil conscience from vexing. And doth hell fire favor the Rich man's limbs more then the poor's? Hath he any servant there, to fan cold air upon his tormented joints? Nay, the nameless Dives goes from soft linen to sheets of fire, from purple robes to flames of the same color, purple flames: from delicate morsels, to want a drop of water. Herod, though a King on earth, when he comes to that smokie vault, hath not a cushion to sit on, more then the meanest Parasite in his Court. So poor a defense are they for an oppressed Soul.

2. Nor from the body can riches remove any plague. The lightning from heaven may consume us, though we be clad in gold: the vapors of earth choke us, though perfumes are still in our nostrils: and poison burst us, though we have the most virtual Antidotes. What judgment is the poor subject to, from which the rich is exempted? Their feet do as soon stumble, and their bones are as quickly broken. Consumptions, Fevers, Gowtes, Dropsyes, Pleurisies, Palseys, Surfeits; are household guests in rich men's families, and but mere strangers in cottages. They are the effects of superfluous fare and idleness; and keep their Ordinary at rich men's tables. Anguish lies oftener on a Down-bed, then on a pallet: diseases wait upon luxury, as close as luxury upon wealth. These frogs dare leap into King Pharaohs chamber, and forbear not the most sumptuous palace. But money can buy medicines: yet what sick man would not wish, that he had no money, on condition that he had no malady. Labor and moderate diet are the poor man's friends, & preserve him from the acquaintance of Master Doctor, or the surfeited bills of his Apothecary. Though our worldling here promiseth out of his abundance, meat, drink, and mirth: yet his body grows sick, and his soul sad: he was before careless, and he is now cureless: all his wealth cannot retain his health, when God will take it away.

3. But what shall we say to the Estate? Euills to that are poverty, hunger, thirst, weariness, seruillitie: We hope wealth can stop the invasion of these miseries. Nothing less: it rather mounts a man, as a Wrastler does his combatant, that it may give him the greater fall. Riches are but a sheeld of Wax, against a sword of power. The larger state, the fairest mark for misfortune to shoot at. Eagles catch not after flies: nor will the Hercules of ambition lift up his clubbe, but against these Giants. There is not in poverty that matter, for a Great man's covetous fire to work upon. If Naboth had had no Vineyard to prejudice the command of Ahab's Lordship, he had saved both his peace and life. Violent winds blow through a hollow willow, or over a poor shrub, and let them stand: whiles they rend a pieces Oaks and great Cedars, that oppose their great bodies to the furious blasts. The tempests of oppressing power meddle not with the contemptible quiet of poor Laborers, but shake up rich men by the very roots; that their blasted fortunes may be fit timber for their own building. Who stands so like an eye-sore in the tyrannous •… ight of Ambition, as the wealthy? Imprisonment, restraint, banishment, confiscation, fining, and confining are Greatnesses Intelligencers; instruments and stairs to climb up by into rich men's possessions. Wealth hath four hindrances from doing good to the State.

1. God usually punisheth our over-loving of riches with their loss. He thinks them unworthy to be rivals with himself: for all height and strength of love is his due. So that the ready way to lose wealth, is to love it. Et delectatio perdet.

2. The greatness of state, or of affection to it, opens the way to ruin. A full and large sails gives vantage to a Tempest: this pulled down, the danger of the gust, and of shipwreck by it, is eluded: and it passeth by with only waves, roaring as if it was angry for being thus prevented. He that walks on plain ground, either doth not fall, or riseth again with little hurt. He that climbs high towers, is in more danger of falling; and if he fall, of breaking his neck.

3. We see the most rich Worldlings live the most miserably; slaued to that wealth, whereof they keep the key under their girdles. Esuriunt in popina, as we say, they starve in a Cooks shoppe. A man would think, that if wealth could do any good, it could surely do this good; keep the owner from want, hunger, sorrow, care: No, even these evils riches do not avoid, but rather force on him. Whereof is a man covetous, but of riches? when these riches come, you think he is cured of his covetousness: no, he is more covetous. Though he hath received desiderium animi, yet he keeps still animum desiderij. The desires of his mind granted, abolish not his mind of desires. So a man might strive to extinguish the Lamp, by putting oil into it; but this makes it burn more. And as it is with some, that thirstily drink harish and ill-brewed drinks, have not their heat hereby allayed, but inflamed: So this worldlings hot eagerness of riches is not cooled, but fired by his abundance.

4. That which makes a man easy to hit, makes also his wound grievous. The Poet tells us, that when Codrus his house burns, (a little cottage in the Forest) he stands by and warms himself at the flame: he knows that a few sticks, straw and clay, with a little labor, can rebuild him as good a Tabernacle. But if this accident light upon the Usurers house, distraction seizeth him withal: he cries out of this Chamber, and that chest, of his Closet and Cabinet, of his bonds & morgages, money and plate; and is so much the more impatient, as he had more to lose.

In a word, here is all the difference betwixt the rich and poor: the poor man would be rich while he lives, and the rich would be poor when he dies. For it is small grief to leave hunger, cold distress, bondage, hard lodging, and harder fare: but to forsake full Barns, full purses, music, wine, junkets, soft beds, beauteous women, and these lust-tickling delights; and to go with death to the Land of forgetfulness, this is the terror.

I end then as Paul concludes his counsel to rich men, Lay up for yourselves a good foundation against the time to come, that you may lay hold on eternal Life.