EXPERIENCE, HISTORY, and DIVINITY.
The firſt Booke.
CHAP. 1.
THe Divines, authorized byLet not my Reader reject many eaſie things being joined with a few that are not ſo eaſie; becauſe in the beſt book, the Elephant ſwimmeth, and the Lambe wadeth. Saint John in the beginning of his Goſpell, whom therfore Gregory the Great calls Evangeliſtarum Aquilam, the Eagle of the Evangeliſts, beginning their diſcourſes of Chriſt, with his eternall Generation, ſtile him, the word.
The Reaſon, is reaſon. Becauſe as verbum2 mentis, the word of the Mind, even after it cometh of the minde, doth ſtill notwithſtanding remaine in it; the word of the Tongue periſhing with the ſound: So the Son of God, comming of his Father by a moſt ineffable, yet moſt true Generation, receiveth a perſonall diſtinction, and yet remaineth with and in his Father, by a moſt unſeperable Unity of Eſſence. This bleſſed word, I call to witneſſe, before whom wee ſhall anſwere for every idle word; that my words heere, in the matters of Experience and Hiſtory, are ſo farre agreeable to the Divine word, that they are true: which is the firſt excellencie of words as they are words. The matters of Divinity will ſtand by themſelves. I have read in the Schoolmen, that Omne verum eſt à Spiritu Sancto, Every Tru•h comes from the Holy Ghoſt. I will bee ſure to tell truth: and upon this ground, truth being told, every man may be ſure from whom it comes; & fix upon it in the deduction of the Concluſions, it virtually containeth; as upon the firm Principles of a Science. I am not ignorant, that ſometimes it is a ſin to ſpeak truth: becauſe there may be a falſhood committed, though not ſpoken: as a falſe breach of true Charity, which many times obligeth to ſecrecie. And theſe times, the ſpeaking of truth, is indeed a lie;3 becauſe ſuch a ſin, and againſt God, who is Truth, even as he is Truth. But I know it for a Maxime: Againſt a publique enemie of the Church of God, we may lawfully and religiouſly ſpeak all Truths. It is a rule amongſt Caſuiſts: Certa pro certis habenda; dubia ut dubia ſunt proponenda: in a Relation, certain things are to be propoſed as things certain, and doubtfull, as doubtfull. Let no man doubt, but I will certainly dreſſe every thing in cloathes according to its degree.
Hence followes a leſſon, and it falles within my leſſon. God was in all eternity, till the beginning of the World; and but one word came from him, and that a good one, as good as himſelfe: and not ſpoken, but as it were, onely conceived. Words are not to bee thought raſhly; and if not to bee thought, not to he ſpoken; becauſe we think not in the ſight of our neighbours; but we ſpeak in the hearing of our neighbours: and if not to be ſpoken, not to be written; becauſe we write with more deliberation and more expence of precious Time; and words are more laſting, when they are written. I will heare what Chriſt ſays to his Church, in the Canticles, Thy lipps are like a thread of Scarlet, and thy ſpeech is comely. SaintCan. 4. 3. Hierome tranſlates it, Sicut vitta, thy lipps are like a Fillet, or Haire-lace. They are4 compared to a thread of Scarlet, for the comlineſſe of the colour: and therefore it followes, And thy ſpeech is comely. Thomas Aquinas his lips are like Scarlet, and his ſpeech is very comely, in the Expoſition of this place. He ſais, that, as ordinarily, women vſe a Ribon, or fillet, in the gathering up ofThom. Aquin. in Cant. 4. their haire, an extravagancie of Nature: So ought we to bind up our lips, & keep under knot, the looſeneſs of vain and idle words; that looſe thoughts may not gad abroade into words, and loſe themſelves and the Speaker; and then our ſpeech will be comly.
CHAP. 2.
GOds great, & laſt end in all his actions, is himſelf, and his own Glory. For, the end of the beſt, muſt be the beſt of Ends: and the beſt of Ends, muſt be the beſt of things. Our ends, if conformable to his end, do borrow more, or leſſe light, & perfection frō it, in bending more, or leſſe neer to it. Our chief end, that is, our end, which all our other ends muſt obſerve, and wait upon, ought to be the ſame with his end, in the World: becauſe it is the ſame with his, in Heaven; the ſight, and fruition of him. A good end will not ſanctifie a bad Action. Howſoever5 we are call'd, wee are not Religious, if we ſet on fire the Hearts of Princes, and ſtir them to arms; that by the burning of Cities, the depopulation of Countries, & the murdering of men, women, and children, and by unjuſt intruſion upon the right of others, the holy Church may encreaſe and multiply. We are not of the ſociety of Gods people, if we deviſe, and labour to blow up the joy, and flower of a Kingdome, with a powdermine; moved by a pious intention, to promote the good of the Catholike Cauſe. Theſe pious intentions, and pious frauds, have play'd the very devils in the world: and they are the more dangerous, becauſe they goe dreſt like Angels of light, and are beleeved to come from Heaven. The Divines teach good Doctrine, when they ſay, Bonum ex integra cauſa, malum ex quocunquedefectu; Good muſt be compleat in it's kind, and furniſhed with all requiſites: one of which being wanting, the action is not compleat in morality, and therefore, not ſo good as it ſhould be. The matter of the Action muſt be good: the manner of the performance good, and the End good. Which though it be extrinſecall to the Action, is intrinſecall to the goodneſſe of it. I ſuppoſe, if the matter and manner, be indifferent, they are good in ſome degree; but6 the End crowns the goodneſſe of the work; for, it is the moſt eminent of all that ſtirre in it. Non est faciendum malum vel minimu, ut eveniat bonum vel maximum; The leaſt evill is not to be done, that the greateſt good may follow the doing of it. And it ſtands with good reaſon. For, the ſmalleſt evill of ſinne, as being laeſio infinitae Majeſtatis, the traiterous wounding of an infinite Majeſtie, would be greater, than the good which could follow. And moreover, committed in that kinde, would caſt a moſt foule aſperſion upon God: to wit, that, hee were, either not able, or not willing, to bring about in it's appointed time, the good he would have done, but by evill performances. It appeareth here, that the performance of good, is hard: of evill, eaſie. My end is good: and more then good, ſuperlatively good. For, it is God's end; God and his Glory in the firſt place; and in the ſecond, the good and godlineſſe of my neighbours: that ſome may ceaſe to doe evill, learne to do well; others ſtand faſt En ſu ſer y1 Eſ 16 17 pueſto, as the Spaniard ſpeaks, in the being & poſition of wel-being, in which, God hath placed them; and that all may love God, and praiſe him; and when they ſee, or heare of this little Book, may looke up to the great one above, & ſing to him, a love-ſong,7 the ſong of the Angels, that beſt know how to ſing; Glory be to God in the higheſt. And2 Luk. 14. as my end is good, my action is not evill, either in the matter, or manner, or circumſtances: becauſe the milde relation of one truth, which may be lawfully related; and the zealous defence of another, which may be lawfully defended: and all this, in a good, and acceptable time.
CHAP. 3.
BUt, all is not required on my part. The Reader likewiſe hath his task. It was an old cuſtome in the Grecian Church, in a time, when the current of zeale, and religion, ranne more pure, becauſe more nigh to the fountaine Chriſt Jeſus, that, in the beginning of divine Service, the Deacon appeared in the full view of the Congregation, and cried aloud, Sacra ſacris, holy things, to holy things: holy ſoules, to holy ſervices. S. Chryſoſt. & Baſil. in Liturgiis.The Reader is now, upon a high ſervice; and his ſoule muſt be all Angelicall. There is a certaine kinde of ſhell, that lyeth alwayes open towards Heaven; as it were looking upward, and begging one fruitfull drop of dewe: which being fallen, it apprehends the greatnes of the purchaſe, ſhuts8 preſently, and keepes the dore againſt all outward things, till it hath made a pearle of it. Every man deſireth naturally, in the firſt motion of his deſire, the conſervation of himſelfe: in the ſecond, the bettering of his owne eſtate. It is in the reading of pious Books, as in the hearing of Sermons. If we open our ſhells, our ſoules, the Heavens will drop their dewe into them, the fruitfull dewe of Grace: to be imployed worthily, in making pearles of good works, and ſolid vertue. Here is matter of Meditation, and matter of Action: and they are both entirely conformable to the mixt life, which is the moſt perfect. It is the life of the Angels. Abram requiring a ſigne of God, by which he might know, that hee ſhould inherit the land of Canaan, received this anſwer; Take me an Heifer of three yeares old, and a ſhee Goat of three yeares old, and a RamGen. 15. 9 of three yeares old, and a Turtle Dove, and a young Pigeon. His Sacrifice muſt conſiſt of creatures that flye, and creatures that onely goe upon the ground. The Goers muſt all be of three yeares old; in their full ſtrength, and vigour of Nature. The Flyers were only, the Turtle Dove, and the young Pigeon; whereof the firſt is a mourner; the ſecond, a moſt harmleſſe, and quiet Liver. As our Bookes, ſo our lifes muſt be divided betwixt9 action and contemplation; and the action muſt be the Action of youth, and ſtrength: and our thoughts, that are all upon the wing, and the Miniſters of Contemplation, muſt firſt be mourners, and then, white, harmeleſſe, and heavenly: and this will be to us, a ſure ſigne, that we ſhall inherit the land of Canaan. And becauſe the devill is an old Thiefe, that cares not from whom he ſtealos: wee muſt learne of Abram, of whom it followes; And whenVerſe 11. the fowles came downe upon the carcaſſes, Abram drove them away. The devils temptations cannot be hindered from making towards the ſacrifice; or, from ſetling upon it: but we may drive them off, before they fall too, they muſt not carry a bill-full away. Quodemit, ſaith S. Auſtin of Chriſt, tantiS. Aug. emit, ut ſolus poſſideat: What he bought, he therefore bought at ſo high a rate, that alone he might poſſeſſe it all.
CHAP. 4.
I Shall now expoſe my ſelfe to the cenſure of people, that have divers natures, and divers religions: and ſome will frowne, others laugh; others ſpeake merrily, ſome furiouſly, as their affections move them;10 and as the preſent ſtate, in which they are in, ſhall prompt them. But how divers ſoever they be, I ſhall be ſtill one and the ſame. Yet I could wiſh, we were all of one minde, not that they might ſpeake well of mee, (for, I am too too plyable to the temptations of Pride, and ſhall be glad to be humbled by them) but that they might pleaſe God. It is a high and deepe obſervation, which the Biſhop of Pontus hath in his Epiſtle to Leo the Emperor, Cùm nullusEpiſcopus Ponti, in ep. ad Leon. Imp. ignoret, quia Sanctae & laudabilis Trinitatis primum bonum ſit pax, & indiviſio. Vnde & Deus unus & eſt, & eſſe creditur; No underſtanding man is ignorant, that the firſt good thing in the bleſſed Trinity, conſidered as the Trinity in Unity, is peace, and indiviſion. Wherefore God both is, and is beleeved to be one, by vertue of this peace, and indiviſion. And as our God is three and one, I would to God, wee were many and one. But this will never be, while the Pope commands ſo much, and the Jeſuits obey ſo much. One of the leſſe principall ends of my writing, is the ſame with the end of warre, to ſpeake with a Councell, ut in pace vivamus, that I may live in peace. BonumTho. Aq. part. 1. quaest. 1. art. 5. exercitus, ſaith Thomas Aquinas, ad bonum civitatis ordinatur. An Army is not raiſed, but to maintaine the peace of a Citie, or11 Common-wealth. And before I have done, it will be acknowledged, they have endeavoured to diſturbe my peace. As for welldiſpoſed people, I deſire them to learne; that God ſpeakes not in his owne perſon to us. For, beſides that he ſtands infinitely above us, in greatneſſe, and majeſtie: he is a ſpirit. He ſends meſſengers to us, ſome in the freſhneſſe of the morning, ſome in the heat of the day; ſome from one place, ſome from another; ſome from beyond France, and Germany, and even from Rome it ſelfe; and thoſe, of the ſame forme and faſhion as we are, that wee ſhould not ſtart at the apparition, with the priviledge of this faire promiſe to them: He that heareth you, heareth me: and hee that deſpiſeth you, deſpiſethLuk. 10. 16 me: and he that deſpiſeth mee, deſpiſeth him that ſent me. Heere is a gradation, without a fallacy: and the ſtrength of it relyes upon the miſſion, by which, Apoſtles are ſent by Chriſt; and Chriſt was ſent by his Father; and upon the authority of the Commiſſion given to them. Where note, that the Father ſends, but is not ſent; for, miſſion ſuppoſeth in the ſender, at leaſt a kinde of priority: the Sonne is both ſent, and ſends; the holy Ghoſt ſends not, but is ſent. The children of Iſrael deſired, that Moſes, one of their owne company and acquaintance,12 might ſpeak to them. For, God was ſo loud, and terrible in the delivery, that he ſeemed to cruſh, and overwhelme mortality. Speak thou with us, (ſaid they to Moſes,) and wee20 Ex. 19. will heare: but let not God ſpeak with us, leſt we dye: For, hee ſpeaks thunder and lightning; and the trumpet ſounds when hee ſpeaks, and perhaps, hee is preparing for a battell: and when he ſpeaks, the mountain ſmokes, and the fire cannot be farre off. I will ſay ſomething: And yet, I will not ſay it. But if I ſhould ſay it: what can the Papiſts ſay? The Church which gives a miſſion, gives it as ſhe tooke it from Chriſt. As ſhe tooke it from Chriſt or his Apoſtles, ſhe was a pure Church. As ſhee was a pure Church, ſhe gave, and now giveth becauſe ſhe hath beene a pure Church, and received her warrant in her purity; when ſhee giveth a miſſion, authority to preach againſt all impurity both in faith and manners, either in her ſelfe, or elſe-where. And behold, being ſent, I am come. Now, let us anſwer in ſome kinde to Gods kindneſſe. It is one part of wiſedome in a ſerpent, commended, and commended to us, by one who loved us dearely: that going to drink, he cleanſeth every ſecret corner, and dark turning of his mouth, from poyſon. Be yee wiſe as ſerpents. Moſes was cōmanded to put off his ſhooes,13 becauſe it was holy, & conſecrated ground. All terrene thoughts, and earthly affections, bemired with treading deepe in the world. All ſiniſter opinions, and judgments, ſteeped in prejudice, are here to be layd downe, or purified. Almighty God hath indeed, a little good ground in the world: but it is duly and daily weeded & manured; well clear'd from ſtones and briars, before the heavenly ſower comes to work. Here therefore, even here, before we take another ſtep, let us turn the face of all our thoughts towards God, to ſtand like officious, and dutifull ſervants, attending upon the nod, and pleaſure of our great Lord, and Maſter. Behold, as the eyes of ſervants looke unto the hand of their Maſters,Pſa. 123. 2. and as the eyes of a Mayden unto the hand of her Mistreſſe: ſo our eyes waite upon the Lord our God, untill that he have mercie upon us, ſayes the ſweet ſinger of Iſrael. We muſt place our eyes upon the hands of our Lord. For, the hands are the inſtruments of work: and it is in our duty, to be ready, when God gives, as it were with his finger, the firſt touch of actuall grace, that we may joyne our ſoules by his help, with him, in vertuous action.
CHAP. 5.
IT is an old Axiome, as old as Philoſophy, Veritas una, error autem multiplex, Truth is one, and error manifold. Truth muſt needs be one, becauſe it hath but one firſt origine, and ſuch a one as is moſt conſtant to it ſelfe, and can never be found in two contrary tales. And error muſt needs be manifold, becauſe it hath many fountaines, and ſuch as ſeldome mingle their ſtreames, and ſeldome agree wholy in any thing, but in this, that they all erre, and runne beſide the channell. There are many wayes out of the way, and but one true way: as there is but one health, yet many ſickneſſes; but one way to be borne, yet many wayes to dye. And man, ever ſince he firſt erred, is very prone to erre: and having erred, ſtops not in the firſt error; but adds preſently error to errour, by loving, and admiring his owne errour. And errour is not alwayes deſirous to be a neat, and a fine errour, but now and then, it will be groſſe. The ſnow is evidently white. Who will ſay, in the hearing of a reaſonable creature, that ſnow is not purely white? And yet, a wiſe Philoſopher, whoſe name, and memory have out-ſtayd the melting of many ſnowes, beleeved it was black:15 and the maine point of his doctrine was, that ſence playd foule with reaſon, and ſnow was black. We are all mortall: ſome of us dye every day; and all, in a due time. Yea, ſaith S. Ambroſe, Vitae hujus principium, mortis exordium eſt: nec prius incipit augeriS. Ambr. lib. 2 de vocat. Gent. cap. 8. vita noſtra, quàm minui. Cui ſi quid ad icitur ſpatii temporalis, non ad hoc accedit ut maneat, ſed in hoc tranſit, ut pereat. The firſt entrance into this life, is the beginning of death: neither doth our life begin to be encreaſed, before it beginneth alſo to be diminiſhed. To which if any time be added, it doth not come to remaine with us, but to leave us, and come no more. Thoſe, who lived in the Age before us, our Fathers and Grandfathers, are dead, and turn'd to dirt; and we now in their places: we alſo, muſt ſhortly dye, and turne to dirt, and others ſucceed us; and they likewiſe, muſt take their turne: and thus, we all turne by turnes, one after another, into plaine dirt; and this is the meane, and homely end of all our bravery. And yet, an infamous ſect of Heretikes in St. Juſtine, firmely beleeved, they forſooth were immortall, and ſhould never dye: and this, although they ſaw the brethren of their Sect ſicken and dye like other men; and then be buried in Graves, and there lye ſtill. The old Annals of Egipt,16 and Italy, tell us, that Flouds, Trees, Mice, Cats, and Crocodiles, were honoured by the Egyptian Sages, for gods; and when the Cat kill'd the Mouſe, they ſaid, one god in his anger, deſtroyed the other, the more great, the leſſer: and as meane creatures, by the Roman Senatours. And as S. Juſtine obſerveth, the ſame creatures were eſteemed,S. Juſt. Apolog. 2. as they were, Beaſts by ſome; by others uſed as Sacrifices to pleaſe the gods; and by a third ſort, adored as gods. Three things S. Auſten would have ſeene, if God had ſo ordered it in his providence; Paulum in ore, Romam in flore, Chriſtum in corpore, Saint Paul the divine Oratour, in his flouriſhing time of preaching the Goſpell, Rome in her flower, Chriſt in his body. And in Rome, when ſhe was in this pompous eſtate, the Ague was honoured as a Goddeſſe; and there alſo, by ill fortune, ill Fortune had her Temple: Feare, Paleneſſe, what not? The Lacedaemonians, all the time of their life, adored death. Amongſt another wiſe Generation of people, rich Altars were dedicated to Poverty, and old Age. Another grave Tribe beleeving fire to bee a moſt powerfull God, travelled from Country to Country, in the reigne of Conſtantine the great, and provoked by a generall Challenge, the Gods of other Countries to encounter17 their God, And overcōming them, as being compacted of wood, or other matter, ſubject to fire; they came at laſt, to Alexandria in Egypt, where the River Nile, by the due ſpreading of which, that Country is fatned, was accounted a God, The ſtatue of Nile being brought forth, as it was, hollow and full of water, having on every ſide, little holes covered with wax, and fitted in all points for the purpoſe, and fire being applied, for a ſet battell, the wax melted, the water found way, and the victorious God Fire was put out; and there was an end of the journey. And all theſe people, cried up for Gods, the things they conceived to be good, ut prodeſſent, that they might help, and profit them: and the things they found to be hurtfull, nè nocerent, that they might not hurt them.
CHAP. 6.
MAhomet in his Alcoran, deſcribing the Turks Paradiſe, ſaith, it is beautified with pleaſant Brooks, enriched with beautifull fruits, adorned with rich hangings, and the like. We may fitly ſay of him, as Euſebius ſaith of Cerinthus, an old Heretick, who thought and taught, that the happineſſe14〈1 page duplicate〉15〈1 page duplicate〉16〈1 page duplicate〉17〈1 page duplicate〉18of the other life conſiſted in the pleaſures of marriage, to be enjoyed in the fulneſſe of delight, for a thouſand yeares, in Hieruſalem: Quarum rerum cupiditate ipſe ducebatur, in eiſdem beatam vitā fore ſomniabat;Euſeb. li. 2. Eccl. hiſt. cap. 22. He dreamed, happineſſe to be placed in thoſe things, with which himſelfe was tickled. And the Thalmudiſts, the ſtricter, and more rigid part of Jews, have ſtuffed their Expoſitions with moſt idle Stories: as, that God doth puniſh himſelfe at certain times, for having beene ſo rough to them; and the like ſtuffe. The Indian Prieſts were as vaine, who inſtilled this doctrine into all their ſimple Followers; that when a Maſter ſhould dye, the Servants ought all to kill themſelves, that ſo, they might readily ſerve him in the other world. A grave Author writes of a people ſo fond, that the firſt thing they ſaw in the morning, was their God, for that day: and ſo perhaps, they loved as many Gods as they lived days. It hath been alwayes the maine plot of the devil, to canker, and corrupt the world, with falſe opinions; and chiefly, with the practice of Idolatry. For, as the underſtanding is opinionated; ſo the will works: and if wee faile in the keeping of one of the two firſt commandements, wee ſtrike at the head of him that enableth us, in the keeping of all19 the reſt. The devout Chriſtians in the Primitive Church, went in great numbers, to ſee the places, wherein Chriſt was borne, was converſant, and was crucified. But the devill had quickly ſo ſtirred in the buſineſſe, and ſquared the matter by the power of the Pagan Emperours, that the Chriſtians comming afterwards, and thinking to finde the crib in Bethleem, found the image of Adonis, Venus her white Boy; and found nothing of the Crib, but onely, that it was not to be found. And turning from thence, to mount Calvarie, they found the ſcene chang'd there alſo; and beheld the ſtatue of Venus, placed with ſuch evident ſignes of open warre againſt Chriſt, and the profeſſion of his name and faith, Ʋt ſi quis ChriſtianorumRuffi. Eccl. hist. lib. 1. cap. 7. (ſaith Ruffinus) in illo loco Chriſtum adorare voluiſſet, Venerem videretur adorare; that when the ſincere Chriſtian ſhould come with a rectified will to adore Chriſt; his action, if not his devotion, might goe a wry, and honour Venus. The devill would faine have taught them, to adore an Image, which they ſaw, rather then God, whom they ſaw not. And even amongſt Chriſtians, the devill, who in other matters, is alwayes the wilde Authour of Confuſion and Diſorder; hath yet, oppoſed the Articles of the Creed in order. For firſt, Simon Magus, Marcion,20 and others, ſtrove againſt the title of God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth. Secondly, Arius in the firſt generall Councell of Nice in Bithynia, laboured againſt the Divinity of Jeſus Chriſt his onely Sonne, our Lord. Thirdly, Macedonius planted his Engine againſt the Holy Ghoſt, and was condemned in the Councell of Conſtantinople. Which obſervation may be alſo made plain, in the other Articles. And becauſe the Holy Ghoſt is the great directour of the Church, and enemie to the devill in his oppoſitions of it; hee ſtill had a blow at the Holy Ghoſt, firſt in Theodoret, who denied the proceſſion of the Holy Ghoſt from the Son; and now, in the Grecians. But we ſhall heare more of him anon.
CHAP. 7.
VVHat mervaile now, if greene in Age, and ſhallow in experience, I gave up my ſoule, into the black hands of errour? The cauſes of my cloſing with the Church of Rome, were three. Firſt, a conſideration of the great ſinnes of this Kingdome: and eſpecially, of that open, ſcandalous, and horrible ſinne of Drunkenneſſe; which my ſoule hateth. And I weakly argued21 from a blemiſh of manners, in particular perſons, to a generall, and over-ſpreading corruption of Faith. My thoughts repreſented a drunkard to me, ſometimes in this manner. What is a Drunkard, but a beaſt like a man, or, ſomething lower then a beaſt? When he is in his fit, no ſenſe will performe his fit office. Spectacles in all figures, appeare to him: hee thinks, hee ſees more ſhapes, then God ever made. A cloud ſettles in his eyes; and the whole body being overflowne, they ſeeme to float in the floud. The earth ſeemes to him to nod, and hee nods againe to it; trees to walk in the fields; houſes, to riſe from their places, and leape into the Aire; as if they would tumble upon his head, and cruſh him to a Cake; and therefore, he makes haſt to avoid the danger. The Sea ſeemes to rore in his cares, and the Guns to goe off; and he ſtrives to rore as loud as they. The Beere begins to work; for, he foames at the mouth. Hee ſpeaks, as if the greater part of his tongue were under water. His tongue labours upon his words: and the ſame word, often repeated, is a ſentence. You may diſcover a foole, in every part of his face. Hee goes like — like what? nothing is vile enough, to ſuit in compariſon with him; except I ſhould ſay, like himſelfe, or like another22 drunken man. And at every ſlip, he is faine to throw his wandring hand upon any thing; to ſtay him with his body, and face upwards, as God made him. Ʋmbras ſaepeS. Ambr. lib. de Elia, & jejunio, cap. 16. tranſiliunt ſicut foveas, ſaith S. Ambroſe: Comming to a ſhadow of a poſt, or other thing in his way, hee leapes, taking it for a ditch. Canes ſi viderint, leones arbitrantur, &Idem, ibid. fugiunt, ſayes the ſame Father: if he ſees a dogge, he thinks it to be a Lyon; and runs with all poſſible haſt, till hee falls into a puddle; where hee lyes wallowing, and bathing his ſwiniſh body, like a hogge, in the mire. And after all this, being reſtored to himſelfe, he forgets, becauſe hee knew not perfectly, what hee was, and next day returnes againe to his vomit. And thus he reeles from the Inn, or Tavern, to his houſe, morning and evening, night and day; till, after all his reeling, not being able to goe, hee is carried out of his Houſe, not into the Taverne, alas, hee cannot call for what hee wants; but into his Grave. Where being layd, and his mouth ſtopt with dirt, hee ceaſes to reele; till at laſt, hee ſhall reele, body and ſoule, into hell: where, notwithſtanding all his former plenty, & variety of drinks, hee ſhall never be ſo gracious, as to obtaine a ſmall drop of water, to coole his tongue. Then if it be true, as it is very likely,23 which many teach, that the devils in hell, ſhall mock the troubled imagination of the damned perſon, with the counterfeit imitation of his ſinnes, the devils will reele in all formes before him, to his eternall confuſion. In vain doth S. Paul cry out to this wretch, Be not drunk with wine wherein is exceſſe: but be filled with the ſpirit. For, the ſame veſſellEph. 5. 18. cannot be filled with wine, and with the ſpirit, at the ſame time. In vaine doth hee tell him, that wee ſhould live ſoberly, righteouſly, and godly in this preſent world. Sobriè,2 Tit. 12. ſaith S. Bernard, nobis, juſtè proximis, pie autem Deo: Soberly, in our ſelves, righteouſlyS. Bern. in Serm. ſup. Ecce nos reliquimus omnia. or juſtly, towards our neighbours; and godly, towards God; alwayes remembring, that we are in this preſent world, and that it is but〈…〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, the preſent point of Time, and but one inſtant, that we enjoy at once. And ſomtimes, in this manner, my thoughts ſhewed me a drunken man. Hee is a moſt deformed creature; one that lookes like the picture of a devill; one, who ſtands knocking at hell-gate, and yet it is not able to ſpeak a plaine word, and call for mercy; one that could ſtand and goe, but now, lyes all along in his owne filthineſſe; one, that is loathed by the Court, and all the Citizens of Heaven; one, that for the time, doth not beleeve, that there is a God, or that Chriſt24 died for the ſinnes of the world; one, that may be lawfully thought, a man of little wit, and leſſe grace; one, who is the Ow•of all that ſee him, and the ſcorne, and abomination, even of his drunken companions ▪ one, who if he ſhould then dye, would certainly be a companion of devils, in hell fit•for ever; one, that is ready to commit adultery, murder, treaſon; to ſtab or hang himſelfe; to pull God out of Heaven, or, doe any thing that is not good. And if it be a firme ground, that, putting our ſelves into the occaſions of ſuch and ſuch ſins, we are as guilty of them, as if wee had committed them; although we did not formally, and explicitely intend them: how many great ſins, hath one act of drunkenneſſe, to anſwer for? Drunkenneſſe is moſt hatefull to God, becauſe it putteth out the light of Reaſon, by which, man is diſtinguiſhed from a beaſt, and all better lights with it, and throwes a man beneath Gods creation; and therefore, drunkenneſſe is more or leſſe grievous, as it more or leſſe impeacheth the light and ſight of Reaſon. Natura paucis contenta, Nature is contented with a little; quam ſi ſuperfluis urgere velis, ſaith Boetius, which if you ſhall urge, and load with ſuperfluousBoet. things, you will deſtroy. And one over-chargeth his ſtomack, and vainely25 caſteth away that, for want of which, or the like, another daily crieth in the ſtreets with a lamentable voyce, Good Sir, for Gods ſake, pitty theſe poore fatherleſſe children, ready to ſtarve; one is hungry, and another is drunken. And the great end of the1 Cor. 11. 21. Creator, was, to ſupply neceſſity, and the neceſſity of every creature. And Sobriety, and Temperance are faire vertues; which even the Glutton, and Drunkard doe praiſe, and magnifie. If wee turne aſide into the Church-yard, wee ſhall finde it a dry time there. There are no merry meetings under ground; no muſick, no dancing, no ſongs, no jeſting company: Every body ſleepes there, and therefore, there is no noiſe at all. Perhaps indeed, as men paſſe to the Church, or to their places in the Church, they point to ſuch a Grave, and ſay; There lyes a drunkard, hee is ſober enough now; but much againſt his will. And thus, his memory is as loathſome to all good people, and thoſe who paſſe by his Grave to their devotions; as his rottenneſſe. Theſe repreſentations winned me to think, that the Practitioners in this Art of Beaſtilineſſe, could not be of any Religion: becauſe S. James bindeth Religion downe to practice. Pure Religion, and undefiled before God, and the Father, isIam. 1. 27. this, To viſit the fatherleſſe and widowes in26 their affliction, and to keepe himſelfe unſpotted from the world. But although I had learned in ſome ſort, to compound, I had not yet learned to diſtinguiſh.
CHAP. 8.
MY ſecond Reaſon of joyning hands with the Church of Rome, was; becauſe I framed to my ſelfe, the imagination of an excellent Sanctity, and a ſpotleſſe Recollection of life, in their Orders of Religion. And my thoughts fed upon this, and the like matter. The laſt end of man, and his Creation, is Bleſſedneſſe; being the viſion, or fruition of God; which is, an eternall Sabbath, or, an everlaſting day of reſt, in him. And therefore, the ſoule of man, which bendeth towards this end, chiefly deſireth reſt. For, God would not, (I had almoſt ſaid, could not) create man for an end, and not imprint in him, a ſtrong deſire of it. Heavey things, belonging to earth, will not of themſelves move towards Heaven; nor yet, ſtay loytering betwixt Heaven and Earth, unleſſe arreſted, and held by force: but haſte to the center of the world, the earth, their true place of being, in which, and in which onely, they take their naturall27 reſt. And the nigher they come to the center, their ſoft bed of reſt, (if we may beleeve Philoſophy) the more haſt they make. The gentle Dove, before the tumult of waters began to ſettle, could finde no place to ſettle in; no ſure, no ſolid reſt for her foot: and the ſilly thing had not learn'd to ſwim. This tumult of waters in the world, will never end, till the world ends. And therefore, O that I had wings like a Dove: for then wouldPſal. 55. 6. I flie away, and be at reſt. Not feet like a Dove, but wings. I have gone enough. I have been treading, and picking upon dunghills a long while. And now, I would faine be flying. And not hanging upon the wing, and hovering over dunghills: but flying away. And not flying away, I know not whither; but to the knowne place of reſt: For then would I flie away, and be at reſt. And not wings like a Hawk, or Eagle; to help, and aſſiſt me in the deſtruction of others: but wings like a Dove; by which I may ſecure to my ſelfe, the continuance of a quiet, and innocent life. I would looke upon the earth, as God does, from above. I would raiſe my thoughts above the colde, and dampiſh earth; and fly with the white, and harmleſſe Dove, when the fury of the waters began to be aſſwaged, to the top of a high mountaine, the mountaine of contemplation:28 ſtanding above the reach of the ſwelling waves, above the ſtroke of thunder, and where little, or no winde ſtirreth. That, as our dearly-beloved Maſter, Chriſt Jeſus, prayed upon a mountain; that is ſent up his flaming heart to Heaven, from a mountaine: yet farther, was transfigured upon a mountaine, that is, brought downe a glimpſe of the glory of Heaven, to the top of a mountaine; and beyond either of theſe, aſcended, himſelfe, to Heaven from a mountaine: So I dwelling upon the mountaines of Spices, as it is in the Canticles, may enjoy aCant. 8. 4. ſweet Heaven upon Earth, and ſweeten the ayre, in every ſtep, for the direction of others who ſhall follow, drawne by the ſweet ſavour of my example. And ſtanding over the world, betwixt Heaven and earth, I may draw out my life in the ſerious contemplation of both: ſinging with Hezechiah, I will mourne as a Dove. Here willIſ. 38. 14. I reſt my weary feet, and wings: and my body being at reſt, I wil ſet my ſoul a work. I will mourne as a Dove ▪ my thoughts having put themſelves out of all other ſervice; and now, onely waiting upon my heavenly Mate; and uttering themſelves, not in articulate, and plaine ſpeech, but in grones. And at laſt, ſet all on fire from Heaven, I may die the death of the Phoenix, in the bright29 flames of love towards God, and man; and in the ſweet, and delicious odours of a good life. Come, my beloved, let us goe forthCant. 7. 11. into the field: let us lodge in the Villages, Sayes the Spouſe to the Bridegroome. Come then, my beloved, O come away, let us goe forth, there is no ſafe ſtaying here: we muſt goe forth. And pry thee, ſweet, whither? into the field: you and I alone. The field: where is not the leaſt murmure of noiſe. Or if any, but onely a pleaſant one (ſuch muſick as Nature makes) cauſed by the ſinging of Birds, and the bleating of Lambs, that talk much in their language, and are alwayes doing, and yet, ſinne not. Or, if we muſt of urgent neceſſity converſe with ſinners: if the Sun will away, and black Night muſt come: if ſleepe will preſſe upon us, and we muſt retire to a lodging-place: heare mee, (and by our ſweet loves, deny mee not) let us lodge in the villages, out of the ſight and hearing of learned diſſimulation, and falſe bravery: where ſin is not ſo ripe, as to be impudent; and where plaine-fac'd ſimplicity knowes not, what deceit ſignifies. In the field, we ſhall enjoy the full, and open light of the Sun: and ſecurely communicate all our ſecrets of love. And when the Body calls to bed, and ſayes, hee hath ſerv'd the ſoule enough, for one time; we may withdraw30 to yonder Village, and there we ſhall embrace, and cling together quietly; there wee ſhall reſt arme in arme, without diſturbance. And do'ſt thou heare? when we wake, wee will tell our dreames, how we dreamt of Heaven, and how you and I met there, and how much you made of me: and then up, and to the field againe. O, did men and women know, what an unſpeakable ſweetneſſe ariſes from our intimacie, and familiarity with God: and from our daily converſation with Chriſt: What inwardly paſſes betwixt God, and a good ſoul: and how lovingly they talk one to another: and how they ſometimes, as it were whiſper, ſometimes ſpeak aloud: ſometimes deliver themſelves merrily, ſometimes in a mournfull tone: and how prettily the ſoul will complaine, and cry to him, and relate her griefes over and over: and how orderly Chriſt keepes his times of going, and comming againe: and what meſſenger•paſſe betwixt them, in his abſence: and afterwards, what a merry day it is, whe•they meet: and what heavenly matte•Chriſt preaches to the ſoule: and how afte•the Sermon, the ſoule condemnes the world and abominates all the vanities of it; an•would faine be running out of it, if it coul•tell which way, and not run from Chriſ•31all the ſweetneſſe of this world, would be gall, and extreame bitterneſſe to them: they would reliſh nothing but Chriſt: they would ſcarce endure to heare any man ſpeak, that did not ſpeak of Chriſt: his very name would give a ſweet taſte in their mouthes: they would ſeeke him; and they would be ſick, till they found him: And having found him, they would let goe all, and hold him faſt. And then, the remembrance of their labour in ſeeking him would be ſweetnes it ſelf to them. Our Saviour before his paſſion, aſcended according to his cuſtome to the mount of Olives: and there drew himſelf, even from his own Diſciples. For, as St. Luke deſcribeth it, He was withdrawn frō them about a ſtones caſt, and kneeled downe, and prayed. About a ſtones caſt, forLuk. 22 41 the peace, and privacie of his owne Recollection: And but a ſtones caſt, for the ſafety, and ſecurity of his Diſciples. And curſed be the Traytour, that brought a vile rabble of ſeditious perſons upon him, to breake his myſticall ſleepe, and to cut the fine thred of his calme and quiet devotions. Thus did my thoughts ſpread themſelves: imagining, this could not any where be found, but in a Monaſtery. My laſt reaſon was, becauſe being carried away with a great ſtreame, the deſire of knowledge; it32 being the Philoſophers Principle in the firſt grounds of his Metaphyſicks, Omnis homo naturâ ſcire deſiderat, Every man by natureAriſt. 1. Met cap. 1. deſireth to know: I plunged my ſelfe into the depth of profound Authors, Bellarmine and others; and was loſt in the bottome. And hurried with theſe motives, I left with a free minde, Kings Colledge, and the Univerſity of Cambridge, upon Chriſtimaſſe Eeve; that I might avoid the receiving of the Sacrament, the next day: for which I was in particular, warned to prepare my ſelfe. But the divine Providence went with mee, and plainly ſhewed mee by my owne eyes, and by my eares, and by other knowing powers, perfected with knowledge in ſome meaſure, with which God hath endued me, that my reaſons were as weak, as I was young.
CHAP. 9.
I Shall now, (and I cannot help it) lay open, and uncover the faults of others. But who am I, that I ſhould doe this? Have I not great faults of my owne? O, I have. Lord, have have mercy upon me, a miſerable ſinner: and upon them, and upon all the world. I am one of thoſe, to whom God gave a faire preheminence over all other earthly creatures. I was ſhaped by him in33 my mothers wombe; and tooke up by him, when I fell from her. I was guided through all dangers by him, in my weake infancie, and ignorant childhood. I was reſerved by him, for the law of grace, and the faith of Chriſt. I am furniſhed by him, with all kindes of neceſſaries, for the fit maintenance of life: and have beene delivered by him, from a thouſand thouſand miſchiefes, bending the bow both at ſoule and body. I had loſt my life the other day, and beene carried hence with all my ſinnes upon my back; had not he ſtept in to help me. I have beene moved every day to goodneſſe, by his holy calls, and inſpirations. He puts bread and meat into my mouth, every day; having ſtrangely brought it from many places, by many wayes, through many hands, to me. Hee covers my nakedneſſe, every day. He hath preſerved, and reſtored me from ſickneſſe: and diſpoſeth all my affaires, with all gentleneſſe. And yet, I have play'd as foule with him, as any man. Behold, I was ſhapen in iniquity, and in ſinne didPſal. 51. 5. my mother conceive mee! I am thronged with unruly paſſions, madd, if let looſe to wickedneſſe. I goe and grow crookedly, and ſtoope very low, under a mighty burthen of ſinne: and am prone to all miſchief, and of my ſelfe, ready for all attempts, and34 wicked enterpriſes againſt God. For, if God ſhould withdraw his preventing Grace, I ſhould quickly be guilty of any ſinne, that ever any man or woman committed. It is granted that I am the void, and empty Cave of ignorance; the muddy fountaine of evill concupiſcence; dark in my underſtanding, weake in my will, and very forgetfull of good things: and that, left to my ſelfe, I am not my ſelfe, but a devill in my ſhape. All this is true. And yet, I have beene the Captaine of an Army againſt him, by whom only, I can be ſet at liberty, and freed from all theſe evills. God is ſo perfectly knowing, ſo compleatly wiſe, that no ſinne, though lying hid in the dark thoughts, and quiet privacie of the heart; though covered with the miſts of the morning, or the darkneſſe of the night, can eſcape his knowledge: ſo throughly good, that no ſinne can pleaſe him; ſo wonderfully powerfull that no ſinner can flie from him, though hee ſhould have wings to help his feet. He is the endleſſe, boundleſſe, bottomleſſe heape of all perfections. He is infinitely ſtored with all kindes of perfect worth, and beauty: and therefore, moſt worthy of all true love, and honour. And this All of perfections, is my all in all: He is one, and a great one, that I make very angry with me every day; and35 yet ſtriking, hee ſhakes his head, pulls back his hand, and is very loth to ſtrike: Hee would, but will not. Hee beares with mee from day to day; and hopes well of mee: breaths upon me, blowes upon me with his holy ſpirit: waters mee with his heavenly grace, and benediction: diggs about mee, with leſſons and inſtructions of all ſorts, and with good examples on every ſide; expecting good fruit from mee. And this good great God have I ſtruck with many faults.
CHAP. 10.
VErily, I have deſerved, that, becauſe I have defiled all the Elements with my ſins, as I goe, the earth at every ſtep ſhould ſink under mee: that it ſhould open, and ſwallow me with a wide throat, into hell. That water, when I firſt come where it is, ſhould leape into my face, and ſtifle mee: that, when I open my mouth, to receive the ſweet benefit of ayre, nothing but miſts, and foggs, and the plague ſhould enter: that fire ſhould not onely ceaſe, and denie to warme me; but alſo, flie upon mee, hang about me, and burne me to aſhes: that heat and cold ſhould meet together in the clouds, and without much threatning, break out upon36 me, as having bin neither hot nor cold; & ſtrike me dead with a clap of thunder: that, becauſe all my zeal was but a flaſh, a flaſh of lightning ſhould burne mee to a coale, and leave mee ſtanding without life, a blaſted man, all black and dried, to ſcare others from ſinne. That, becauſe I playd the Beaſt, in erring againſt the rules of reaſon; beaſts, and unreaſonable creatures of all kindes, ſhould lie every where in wait to deſtroy me: that the Birds of the Aire, ſhould break into my Houſe, catch the bread out of my hand before it comes to my mouth, and carrie away the very meat from my Table; becauſe they deſerve it, better then I: that Spiders ſhould empty their poyſon, into my drink: that becauſe I ſtript my ſoule, and rob'd her of her wedding garment; no kind of garment ſhould ever be able to hang upon my back. I have deſerved, that, becauſe I have infected my Brethren by evill example, the hearts and hands of all men ſhould be turned againſt me; that, as I paſſe in the ſtreets, men and women ſhould laugh at me in ſcorne; and mock me, as they doe fooles & mad men: and that, becauſe I have beene a ſtumbling-block to youth, Boyes and Girles ſhould run after me with a noiſe; and that their Parents, and people of all ſorts, ſhould throw dirt in my face. Indeed,37 I have deſerved, that becauſe I have ſinned in the ſight of the Angels, the Angels of Heaven ſhould arreſt me in the Kings name, whom I have offended; take me, and deliver mee to all the devils of Hell; and that they ſhould throw me with all their might, into the bottome of Hell; and follow after me with an out-cry, that ſhould make the foundations of the earth ſhake. For, having playd the notorious Rebel againſt the Creator of all things; I have moſt juſtly deſerved, as often as I have ſinned that all things, all creatures ſhould riſe up in armes againſt me. And with what heart, or face ſhall I ſtretch out my hand againſt the faults of others? But, it is not my owne quarrell. I ſpeake in Gods behalfe.
CHAP. 11.
I Was reconciled to the Church of Rome in London, by an Engliſh Monk: and by him recommended to a Jeſuit: who ſent me to the Engliſh Colledge at S. Omers in Flanders. And the better to paſſe at Dover; I was put by an Engliſh Monk, into a habit like an Italian, and indeed, like the Monk as he goeth in London: and joyned in company, with a young Gentleman an Italian38 Traveller, who was now in his returne towards his Country. Having paſſed for an Italian, not only in clothes, but in Country; and being landed at Calice in France: it hapned, that I travelled from thence to St. Omers, with a Jeſuit, and a young Scholler, which he brought with him out of England: and they had come in the Ship wherein I paſſed. Hee was apparrelled like a ſecular Gentleman, and wore a little Ponyard by his ſide. And we three mingling diſcourſe, as we journeyed, he told us, that the Ponyard was given him by a Catholike, a deare friend of his; upon a condition, that hee ſhould kil a Purſuivant with it. God knows, I lie not. By a Purſuivant, hee meant one of the Kings Meſſengers, which are imployed in the ſearch, and apprehenſion of Prieſts and Jeſuits. But O my Lord, and my God, can this be the veine, and the ſpirit of the Primitive Church? or, doth it taſte of the meekneſſe, and gentleneſſe of Chriſt our ſweet Saviour, either in his life, or doctrine? With the firſt, it cannot agree. For St. Cyprian is plaine in the matter: Nos laeſos divina ultio defendet. Inde eſt, quòd nemo noſtrumS. Cypr. ad Demetriad. ſe adverſus injuſtam violentiam, quamvis nimius, & copioſus ſit noſter populus, ulciſcatur. God wil revenge our wrongs. And therefore, not one of us doth lift up his hand39 againſt unjuſt violence, although our people be many, and our ſtrength great. Wee are patient, not that we cannot reſiſt the power of our perſecutors; but becauſe we may not reſiſt them, having received power from God: to which wee ought to ſubmit our ſelves, whereſoever we finde it. With the ſecond, it may not hold in either of the two branches. It ſutes not with the doctrine of Chriſt; who ſaith to Peter, having ſmote off the eare of an inferiour ſervant, though he had left his head behinde: Put up againe thy ſword into his place: for all they that takeMat. 26 52 the ſword, ſhall periſh with the ſword. It is not of the ſame colour, with the life of Chriſt; of whom Saint Paul teſtifieth, that he humbled himſelfe, and became obedient unto death,2 Phil. 8. 9. even the death of the Croſſe. Wherefore God alſo hath highly exalted him. Hee was firſt depreſſed, and then, exalted: and hee was therfore exalted, becauſe hee had beene depreſſed: and he was highly exalted becauſe he had beene depreſſed as low as death, and the death of theeves, and murderers: and he depreſſed himſelfe, but hee was exalted by God. Well now. It is not agreeable with this, or with that. Yet, I well know, with what it agreeth. And you ſhall know, as well as I. With the doctrine, and practice of the Church of Rome. God turn the hearts40 of her children. But, I muſt turne to Chriſt againe. Mee thinks, it is a mervailous pleaſant thing, to looke upon him. The obedience of his humility waded as farre as it could find bottome. It is a witty difference, which St. Gregory maketh betwixt obedience and ſacrifice. Obedientia victimis praeponitur; quia per victimas aliena caro; per obedientiamS. Greg. lib. 35. Moralium in Job cap. 12. verò, voluntas propria mactatur. Obedience is preferred before ſacrifice: becauſe in ſacrifice, other things; in obedience, our owne wils are kill'd; that is, mortified, and offered to God. And therefore, the night before our deare Saviour was made actually obedient unto death, hee diſcovered two wills, in one ſoule. His humanity, having a revelation of what he was to ſuffer; and now, ſweating bloud in the ſerious contemplation of it, his inferiour will cried out, O my Father, if it be poſſible, let thisMat. 26. 39 cup paſſe from me. But the ſuperiour will, ſoone ended the controverſie: nevertheleſſe, not as I will, but as thou wilt. The inferiour will was it ſelfe, in the reaſonable part; or it could not have beene capable of ſuch a high kinde of willing. A little more obedience to Chriſt, and his law, would not ill become thoſe great Profeſſors of obedience. Chriſt alloweth us to runne in our own defence; but not to reſiſt; if the power be lawfull,41 that oppoſeth us, and we ſubjected to it: and if it commeth from God, it would be lawfull, though it ſhould not doe lawfully, what it doth: lawfull in it ſelfe, though not lawfull in the exerciſe of it ſelfe: and it can not be reſiſted in the exerciſe, but it muſt be reſiſted in it ſelfe: for, power is never ſeene in it ſelfe, but altogether in the exerciſe of it ſelfe.
CHAP. 12.
IT is the courſe of the Jeſuits at St. Omers, to ſend every yeare in the time of Harveſt, two miſſions of Engliſh Schollers, into remote parts of the Chriſtian world: one, to Rome in Italy; And another to Valladolid, or Sevil in Spaine: and theſe places in Spaine, receive their miſſions by turnes. In all theſe places, are Engliſh Colledges: Whereof the Superiours, or Governours, are Jeſuits: the reſt, Schollers, chalked out for ſecular Prieſts. By ſecular Prieſts I underſtand, not regular Prieſts; neither Jeſuits, nor Monks, nor Friars; but Prieſts, without any farther addition: whoſe primarie charge in their Inſtitution, by which they differ from others, is, to teach and inſtruct ſecular people, and to reſide in Benefices, and be Pariſh42 Prieſts. Here, I have a notable trick to diſcover, and I ſhall ever ſtop, and ſtand amazed, and ponder the malice of the Jeſuits, when I think of it. Their beſt, and moſt able Schollers, they ſend alwayes, to Spaine: and onely, their weaker veſſels, to Rome; in their ordinarie proceedings: whereof ſome are lame, ſome crooked, others imperfect in the naturall part of ſpeaking. The reaſon of it, is excellent knowledge. The Schollers being with them, and ſubordinate to them in their Colledges, and now, far from their Country: it is a great portion of their labour, to win them by favours, promiſes, threats in the by, and much cunning, to be Jeſuits: and ſo, they never leave any (if all they can doe, will doe withall) for the Secular Prieſts, but the leane and bony end, and the refuſe of them. For, the Jeſuits and the Secular Prieſts, are great oppoſites; and much contrary in their opinions: and the weaknes of the one wil help negatively, to the ſtrength of the other. The Pope being informed of this Jeſuiticall device, gave a command at Rome, where his power is abſolute in all kindes: that every Scholler, the yeare of his probation being expired, ſhould bind himſelfe by an oath, not to enter into any order of Religion; till after three yeares durance in England. And then,43 they began to ſet on foot the trick I told you of. But, if one deſires admittance into a miſſion, who by reaſon of ſome defect, (for example, the defect of having entred into an order, and returned with diſlike) cannot according to their rules, be a Jeſuit; if hee comes with ſtrong, and able commendations, they will ſend him to Rome, though he be a deſerving man; that he, and ſuch as he, may ſtand like a good face, or a freſh colour, over the device, that lyeth inward. They have a very godly-fac'd anſwer to this objection: and ſay; theſe imperfect creatures are as God made them; and they are ſent over by their poore friends, to be Prieſts; and we that weare out our bodies, and lifes in the education of Youth, have good reaſon to chuſe the ſounder part: and they which come to us, are not taken from the Church, but reſtored to it, in a more excellent manner. But, firſt, according to their own Principles, they are bound to goe along with the Founders intention; and the Founder intended the maintenance, for able men. Secondly, they doe not performe their obligation of Charity towards the body of the Clergie, which they notably maime, and diſable: and yet, in thoſe places they are onely Stewards for the Clergie. Thirdly, they doe great injurie both to their Church,44 and their cauſe; which ſuffereth oftentimes by ſuch Martyrs of Nature, and ſuch unskilfull Defenders: Some of which, cannot read Latine, nor yet hard Engliſh. See how God worketh for us, by their ſins. Fourthly, they delude the Popes command concerning the oath, and wholly fruſtrate his purpoſe; and their fourth vow of obedience to his Holineſſe, ſtands for a cypher in this buſineſſe. And much more. What remaineth now, but that malice is predominant in the action; and that they make themſelves Gods, and turne all to their owne ends?
CHAP. 13.
AT St. Omers, their manner is, to make triall of every one that comes; what nature, and ſpirit hee is of, and what progreſſe he hath made in learning; partly by applying ſubtill young Lads to him, which keepe him company, and turne him outward, and inward againe, and make returne of their obſervations to the Jeſuits: and partly, by their owne ſifting him, either in diſcourſe, or examination, or in ſome other more laboured exerciſe. Which triall when I had undergone, an old Jeſuit, gray in experience,45 and a crafty one, and one, whoſe name you have in your minde, when you think Not, being then Vice-provinciall of the Engliſh Jeſuits, look'd ſoberly upon me, and told me of a ſpirituall exerciſe, in uſe amongſt them, which would much preferre me in the ſervice of God, if I was pleaſed to make uſe of it. I yeelded. And the next day, in the evening, I was brought into a Chamber, where the Curtaines were drawne, and all made very dark; onely, a little light ſtole in at a corner of the window, to a Table; where ſtood pen, ink, and paper: and order was given me by my ghoſtly Father, a cunning man, a man that did not walk in the light, that I ſhould not undraw the Curtaines, or ſpeak with any perſon but himſelfe, for certaine dayes; and what the ſpirit of God ſhould inſpire into my heart concerning my courſe of life, I ſhould write; there being pen, ink, and paper. And he left a Meditation with mee, the matter of which, was indeed, very heavenly; and hee brought every day two or three more. Hee viſited me two or three times a day; and alwayes, his queſtion was, after, how doe you childe, and ſo forth? What? have you wrot any thing? Feel you not any particular ſtirrings of the ſpirit of God? And alwayes, I anſwered plainely,46 and truly, no. Having beene kept in darkneſſe, ſome dayes; and alwayes left to a more ſerious, and attentive liſtning after the holy Ghoſt; and perceiving no ſignes of a releaſement; I began to ſuſpect, what the man aim'd at. And I prayed heartily, that my good God would be pleaſed to direct me. Think with me: Had theſe Meditations beene appointed meerely, and preciſely for the elevation of my ſoule to God, they had beene excellent: but perverted, and abuſed to ſerve mens ends, they were not what they were. But I thought, I would know farther e're long. The holy man came againe, and ſtill enquired, if I knew the minde of the Holy Ghoſt. My anſwer was: I did hope, yes; but I was loth, becauſe aſhamed, to ſpeak it. Being encouraged by him, I ſaid; That in my laſt Meditation, the ſpirit of God ſeemed to call me to the Society. Hee knew the phraſe, and the ſenſe of it, was, God moved me to be a Jeſuit. He preſently, caught up my words, and told me, I was a happy man, and had great cauſe to bleſſe God for ſo high a calling; with much, to that purpoſe. And when he had his end, my Meditations had their end, and the Curtaines were drawne, and having beene enlightned from Heaven, it was granted, that I ſhould enjoy the light of the47 world; and there was all the good man look'd for. But, had not the Holy Ghoſt ſpoke as he did, hee would not have beene thought, to ſpeake like the Holy Ghoſt. And now, I was brought downe from my dark Cell, with great joy, and lightſomneſſe; and all the Boyes were unexpectedly ſent abroad with me that afternoone, to recreate their ſpirits, and be merry with the new-borne childe. Yet afterwards, a performance being required of what I had promiſed, my heart gave back. For, I had been counſelled by ſome of the leſſe Jeſuited Schollers, to goe in a miſſion, and read farther in the practice of the Jeſuits, before I took their habit. Which the Jeſuits laboured to prevent, telling me, their numbers in their miſſions were full. I ſtood to it, and gave them no ground; ſaying, I would returne to England, if I went not: and ſo, they ſent mee in the miſſion, to Valladolid in Spaine. But I ſaw with both my eyes, they were in good hope, to gaine me afterwards. Many are of opinion, that a great cauſe of theſe great diſturbances in the world, is, becauſe men walk not in thoſe vocations to which God hath called them. The ordinarie vocation is, when a man findes, (after a fit imploring of Gods help) in the due examination of his heart, that he can beſt, and48 moſt proportionably to his abilities, ſerve God in ſuch an honeſt courſe, lying within the reach, and condition of his life. And undoubtedly, theſe foule wayes, are ſo many wreſtings of Gods ſpirit. Me thinks now, a man may throughly meditate, every day if he pleaſe, both whence hee came, and whither hee goes, in little England: where hee may doe it freely, and ſweetly; and where, in the doing of it, no man will have a plot upon Him, or urge him to exact upon the Holy Ghoſt. And leſt the Jeſuits ſhould imagine, wee are here altogether deſtitute of ſuch helps, and for the benefit of my neighbour, I will ſet downe a Meditation in this kinde: and he ownes it, that deſires with all his heart, to ſerve God with all his might; and by him, they may gueſſe of others.
MEDITATION. I.
I Will fold my ſelfe inward, and ponder ſeriouſly, what and where I was, ſome few yeares agoe: what and where, before my Father was borne, or, when hee was a childe. If I lay aſide an odde trifle of dayes, if I take away a ſhort courſe of running time, No man or woman now living was49 alive. Creeping things, though they could but creepe, did live, and rejoyce in a comfortable being. And other little creatures had wings, and were able to flie readily, here, there, and here againe; and other wayes, upwards, and downwards. And we, vvho now goe vvith ſuch a grace, and look ſo full-eyde, and build to our ſelves ſuch Babels in our imaginations, had no kinde of Being. Theſe Churches, theſe Townes, this Kingdome, this heap of Kingdoms the vvorld, vvere as vvee ſee them: but vvee vvere not heard of, not becauſe vvee vvere a great vvay off, but becauſe vve vvere not. Were not heard, vvere not ſeene, vvere no vvhere, and all, becauſe vve vvere not. Quae non ſunt, quomodò ambulabunt, aut loquentur?Ariſt lib. 4. Met. cap. 4. text. 16. ſayes the Philoſopher. The things vvhich are not, how ſhall they vvalk, or talk? The very ſame Sunne, that riſes and ſets for us, did ſhine, now red, now pale, upon the vvorld; and conſtantly runne his dayes journey, and keep the ſame times. Such birds of the ſame colours, did ſing merrily to the ſame tunes; and hop from branch to branch, and flie from tree to tree, as now they doe. Beaſts and Fiſhes, in the ſame, the very ſame diverſity of ſhapes, followed their ſeverall inſtincts of nature. The Bees made honey, that differed nothing from ours, but onely50 becauſe it vvas not the ſame. The vvindes blew cold, and vvarme; and vvarme, and cold againe. The Beech, and Poplar; the Cedar, and Oke did grow, upwards and downwards; and every one vvas knowne by the leafe, by vvhich, vvee diſtinguiſh them. Brooks took their courſes. The Sea ror'd. Men and vvomen, ſuch as vve are, did as vvee doe: And vvee vvere nothing. O vvonderfull! A little vvhile before yeſterday, the beſt of us all, and the moſt knowing, knew not, that there vvas a vvorld; that there were Angels; that there is a God; that ſuch as wee, were afterwards to be: becauſe we had no knowledge; no being, the foundation, and ground of knowledge.
MEDITATION. II.
O Pretious peeces that we are! we were all, as it were, borne of the Night, and call'd from a dark Nothing. And yet truly, the moſt unworthy, and moſt contemptible matter that is, yea, the Devils, and Damned in Hell, the loweſt in the preſent order of Spirits, are placed many ſteps of vvorth above nothing, as being Gods creatures, and bearing his coliſſons; though branded with the fouleſt marks of diſhonour. For, God51 is honoured, even by the Being, Puniſhments, and Diſhonour of the damned; in which, the divine Juſtice triumpheth. But from Nothing, no honour can riſe to him, onely that hee made ſomething of nothing. Nothing is ſo baſe, that for it's meere baſeneſſe, we cannot conceive it: nor ſpeake of it, but in diſgrace, by denying it to be any thing: which neither ſenſe, nor underſtanding can apprehend. It hath no figure, ſhape, or colour: and is no where, becauſe it is nothing. It cannot be painted; and though the Devill is painted under the forme of another thing, yet that cannot: (that? what? nothing:) becauſe it is the meere negation of a thing. O curſed negation! God never made thee. For, had God made thee, thou hadſt beene ſomething. And hadſt thou been any thing, there had beene as many things for ever with God, as things had been poſſible by the power of God. It cannot be deſcribed, but by ſaying, it is not: and of nothing, we cannot ſay, it is, but by adding, nothing. Of which now thinking, or ſpeaking, or writing; I think, or ſpeak, or write of nothing. And ſo, we being, and yet truly, not truly being, but being nothing, God gave us the noble being we have; and made us Kings, and Queens of all corporal things, when hee might have made us with his left52 hand, Toads, Vipers, or Snakes: Spiders, to be alwayes watching in catching Flyes, and to weave out our bowells, to fill our bellies: Snails, to paſſe over all our time in creeping, and in our paſſage from place to place, to linger in the way, and wait for our deſtruction: wormes, to be trod to peeces without any pitty, or thought of what is done, or that ſuch a ſtep was the death of a worme: Flyes, to play in the light, and preſently periſh, by day in a Cobweb, by night in a candle: leafes of ſower graſſe, or fading flowers: unworthy peeces of wood, to be carved into any, yea, the vileſt ſhape, or perverted to the baſeſt uſe. Wee might have bin Idols, or Images, ſet up in diſhonor of God, which every one that loves him, would not have been for all the world: or, ſome other inferiour thing, provided for the uſe of man. I wil remember the young-man, that weeping at the ſight of a Toad, and being asked by certaine Biſhops, as they paſſed in the way where he was, the cauſe of his griefe; anſwered, and ſoftned every word with a teare, that he wept, becauſe he had riſen to ſuch a bulk of body, and heigth of yeares, and never yet given thanks to God, for not creating him ſo foule an object of contempt, as the Toad: when hee was to God his Maker, as willing and eaſie clay in53 the hands of the Potter. O Lord, I thank thee for him, and for my ſelfe, and for us all.
MEDITATION. III.
ANd the Lord God formed man of the duſt of the ground, and breathed into hisGen. 2. 7. noſtrhils the breath of life, and man became a living ſoule. For, when the Angels, enriched with ſuch abſolute gifts, and dowries of nature, by occaſion of their ſhining, and beautifull nature, had loſt, and loſt beyond recovery, the faireſt beauty under Heaven, which is Grace; God turning his Omnipotencie to the Creation of man, made, as if he feared the like inconvenience, all that is viſible in Him, of Earth: of baſe, and foule earth. Which, leſt it ſhould continually provoke a loathing, he hath changed into a more fine ſubſtance, & covered all over, with a fair, and faſhionable skinne: but with a condition of returning at a word, and halfe a call from Heaven, unto Earth, and into Earth. That, although he might afterwards, be lifted up in the ſcale of his ſoule, hee might be depreſſed againe preſently on the other ſide, by the waight, and heavineſſe of his body; and ſo, might lay the deep, and low foundation of humility, requiſite to the high, and ſtately54 building of vertue. If now, God ſhould turn a man, buſie in the commiſſion of ſome haynous crime, into his firſt earth: that preſently in ſteed of the man, ſhould appeare to us, an Image of clay like the man, and with the mans cloathes on, ſtanding in the poſture, in which the man ſtood, when he was wholly tooke up in committing that high ſinne againſt God; Should we not all, abominate ſo vile a man of clay, lifting himſelfe againſt the great God of Heaven and Earth? And God breathed upon his face, rather then upon any other part of his body, becauſe all the ſenſes of man doe flouriſh in his face; and becauſe agreeably to his own ordinance, in the face the operations of the ſoule ſhould be moſt apparent, as the ſignes of feare, griefe, joy, and the like, wherefore, one calls the eyes,〈…〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, the moſt exact, and accurate images of theDamaſcenus in vita Iſidori. minde. But ſtay. I grant, that God in the beginning, firſt rais'd all things by a ſtrange lift, out of nothing. And I confeſſe it is true; not that which Pythagoras his Schollers had ſo often in their mouthes, Ipſe dixit, and no farther; but, ipſe dixit, & facta ſunt, as the Prophet David ſingeth: God ſpake the word, and all this gallant world roſe preſently out of nothing: as if ſenceleſſe nothing had heard his voyce, and obeyed him. 55And I am ſufficiently convinced, that God brought our firſt Father from cōmon earth, that we cannot touch without defiling our fingers, to earth of a finer making, call'd fleſh. But how are we made by him? wee come a naturall way into the world. And it is not ſeene, that God hath any extraordinary hand in the work. Truly, neither are the influences of the Sunne, and Starres apparent to us in our compoſition; yet are they neceſſary to it. Sol & homo generant hominem, ſayes Ariſtotle: The Sunne and aAriſt. man betwixt them, beget a child. The reaſonable ſoule is created by God in the body, at the time when the little body now ſhapen, is in a fit temper to entertaine it. For, the ſoule is ſo noble, and excellent both in her ſubſtance and operations, that ſhee cannot proceed originally from any inferiour cauſe, nor be but by creation. And if God ſhould ſtay his hand, when the body is fitly dreſſed, and diſpoſed for the ſoule, the child would be borne but the meaneſt part of a man. And doubtleſſe, God uſeth Parents like inferiour officers, even in the framing of the Body. For, if the Parents were the true Authors, and maſter builders of the body, they ſhould be endued naturally with a full and perfect knowledge of that, which they make. They ſhould fully, and perfectly56 know, how all things are ordered, and fitted in the building. They ſhould know in particular, how many ſtrings, veins, ſinewes, bones, are diſpenſed through all the body: in what ſecret Cabinet, the braine is locked up; in what poſture, the heart lyeth; and what due motion it keepes; what kinde of Cookery, the ſtomack uſes; which way, the rivers of the bloud turne, and at what turning they meet; what it is, that gives to the eyes, the principality of ſeeing; to the eares, of hearing; to the noſe, of ſmelling; to the mouth, of cenſuring all that paſſes, by the taſte; and to the skin and fleſh, the office of touching. Nor is this all; But alſo, when the body is taken up, and borded by a ſickneſſe: or, when a member withers, or is cut off: truly, if the Parents were the only Authors of the body; they might, even by the ſame Art, by which, they firſt framed it, reſtore it againe to it ſelfe. As the maker of a clock, or builder of a houſe, if any parts be out of order, can bring them home to their fit place, and gather all againe to uniformity. So that every man naturally ſhould be ſo farre skill'd in Phyſick, and Surgerie, and have ſuch an advantage of power, that his Art ſhould never faile him, even in the extraordinary practice of either. To this may be added, that the joyning together of the57 ſoule and body, which in a manner, is the conjunction of Heaven and Earth, of an Angell and a beaſt, could not be compaſſed by any, but a workman of an infinite power. For, by what limited art, can a ſpirit be linked to fleſh, with ſo cloſe a tye, as to fill up one ſubſtance, one perſon? They are too much different things: the one is〈…〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, as S. Gregory Nazianzen ſpeaks, a ray of theS. Greg. Naz Divinity: the other, a vile thing, extracted from a dunghill. Nor is there any ſhew of ſemblance, or proportion betwixt them. And therfore, to make theſe two ends meet, is a work, which requires the hand, and the onely hand of the Maſter Workman. The Divines give three ſpeciall reaſons, why God joyned a body to a ſoule. Firſt, moved by his infinite goodneſſe; becauſe he deſired to admit a body, as well as a ſpirit, to the participation of himſelfe: and all creatures being ſpirituall, or corporall, a body could never have beene partaker of bleſſedneſſe, had it not beene joyned to a ſpirit. Secondly, for the more generall exerciſe of vertue in the ſervice of God: for, a ſoule could not have acted many vertues, without the aide of a body, as, the vertues of temperance, and chaſtity. For, the Devils are not delighted with the ſinnes contrary to theſe vertues, but for our guilt. Thirdly, the perfection58 of the univerſe. For, as there are creatures, only ſpirits, as Angels: and creatures onely bodily, as beaſts and trees: ſo it was a great perfection, that there ſhould alſo be creatures, both ſpirits and bodies. By which, it is evident, that God placed man in a middle condition betwixt Angels and beaſts, to the end, he might riſe, even in this life, with Elias, to the ſublime, and ſuperiour ſtate of Angels: not deſcend with Nabuchodonoſor, to that inferiour, and low rank of beaſts. And by the more frequent operations of the ſpirit, in high things; we become more ſpirituall, and indeed, Angelicall: By the more frequent exerciſe of the body, and the bodily powers, in the acts of ſenſuality; we become more bodily, and beſtiall.
MEDITATION. 4.
ANd God gave us a being, ſo perfect in all points, and lineaments, that leſt we ſhould fondly ſpend our whole lifes in admiration of our ſelves, and at the looking-glaſſe; hee wrought his owne image in us, that guided byit, as by a finger pointing upwards, wee might not reſt in the work, but look up preſently to the workman. The59 image conſiſteth in this. God is one: the ſoule is one. God is one in Eſſence, and three in perſons, the Father, the Sonne, and the holy Ghoſt: The ſoule is one in Eſſence, and three in faculties, the underſtanding, the will, the memory. The Father is the firſt perſon, and begets the Son; the underſtanding is the firſt faculty, and begets the will, I meane the acts of willing, by the repreſentation of ſomething which it ſheweth amiable. The Holy Ghoſt is the third perſon, and proceeds from the Father, and the Son: the memory is the third faculty, and is put into action, and being, in a manner, joyntly by the underſtanding, and will. But, here is a ſtrange buſineſſe: The Sonne, the ſecond perſon, came downe into the world, and yet ſtay'd in Heaven: The will, the ſecond faculty, and ſhe onely, goes as it were out of the ſoule, into outward action, that we may ſee the ſoule of a man in the execution of his will; and yet, remaines in the ſoule. God is a ſpirit, the ſoule is a ſpirit. God is all in all the world, and all in every part of the world: The ſoule is all in all the body, and all in every part of the body. Phidias, a famous Graver, deſiring to leave in Athens, a perpetuall memorie of himſelfe, and an everlaſting monument of his Art, made a curious image60 of Minerva, the matter being pretious Jvorie; and in her buckler, upon which in a faire diverſitie, hee cut the battails of the Amazons and Giants, hee couched his owne picture, with ſuch a rare ſingularity of Art, that it could not any way be defaced, without an utter diſſolutiō of the Bucklar. This did God, before Phidias was ever heard of, or his fore-fathers through many generations, in the ſoule of man: the image of God, though not his likeneſſe, remaining in the ſoule, as long as the ſoule remaineth, even in the damned: To this image God hath annexed a deſire of him: which in the world, lifts up our hearts to God: in Hell, begets and maintaines the moſt grievous paine of loſſe. And to ſhew, that this deſire of God, is the greateſt, and beſt of all deſires; nothing, which any other deſire longs after, will ſatisfie the gaping heart; but onely, the object of this great deſire. Ad imaginem Dei facta anima rationalis, ſaithS Ber. Ser. de divinis. S. Bernard, caeteris omnibus occupari poteſt, repleri non poteſt: capax enim Dei, quicquid minus Deo eſt, non replebit: The reaſonable ſoule, being made after the image of God, may be held back, and ſtay'd a little dallying with other things, but it can never be fully pleas'd, and fill'd with them: for, the thing that is capable of God, cannot be filled with61 any thing, that is leſſe then God. The heart is carved into the forme of a Triangle; and a Triangle, having three angles or corners, cannot be filled with a round thing, as the world is. For, put the world, being ſphaericall, or circular, into the triangle of the heart; and ſtill, the three angles will be empty, and wait for a thing, which is moſt perfectly, one and three. And that wee might know, with what fervour of charity, and heat of zeale, God endeavoureth, that we ſhould be like to him, he became like to us. For, although God cannot properly be ſaid like to us as God, as a man is not ſaid like to his picture, but the picture to him: yet, as man, he may. And therefore, as hee formed us with conformity to his image in the Creation; ſo, hee formed himſelfe according to our image, and likeneſſe in his Incarnation. So much he ſeeketh to perfect likeneſſe betwixt us in all parts; that there may be the more firme ground for love to build upon: when commonly, ſimilitude allureth to love, and likeneſſe is a ſpeciall cauſe of liking. It is the phraſe of S. Paul, who ſaith of Chriſt, that he was made in the likeneſſe of man. 2 Phil. 7.
MEDITATION. V.
ANd woman being made, not as man, of earth, but of man, and made in Paradiſe; was not taken out of the head, that ſhe might ſtand over her husband; nor out of the feet, that ſhe might be kickt, and trod upon; nor out of any fore-part, that ſhee might be encouraged, to go before her huſband; nor yet, out of a hinder part, leſt her place ſhould be thought amongſt the ſervants, farre behind her husband: but out of the ſide, that ſhee might remaine in ſome kinde of equality with him. And from his heart ſide, and a place very neere the heart; that his love towards her, might be hearty. And from under his left arme, that he might hold her with his left arme cloſe to his heart; and fight for her with his beſt arme, as he would fight to defend his heart. It is one of the great bleſſings, which the Prophet pronounceth to him, that feareth the Lord. Thy wife ſhall be as a fruitfull vine by the ſides of thine houſe. The vine branch mayPſal. 128. 3 be gently bended any way; and being cut, it often bleeds to death. And the wife is a vine by the ſides of the houſe: her place is not on the floore of the houſe, nor on the63 roofe; ſhee muſt never be on the top of the houſe. But there is a difference: the woman muſt be a Vine, by the inſides of the Houſe. But now begins a Tragedy. It is not without a ſecret, that the Devill in his firſt exploit, borrowed the ſhape of a ſerpent; of which Moyſes, Now the ſerpent was moreGen. 3. 1. ſubtill then any beaſt of the field. The knowledge of the Angels, is more cleare, compared with the knowledge of the Devils; and moreover, is joyned with Charity: but the knowledge of the Devils, is not joyned with Charity, Juſtice, or other vertues; and therefore, degenerateth into craft; according to that of Plato,〈…〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉,Plat. in M•••x•••.〈…〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Knowledge, not linked with juſtice, and other vertues, is not wiſedome, but craft. And the ſerpent is crafty: For, if he can paſſe his head, his long traine being leſſe and leſſe, will eaſily follow: Hee will winde, and turne any way: He flatters outwardly, with gawdy ſcales; but inwardly, he is poyſon: Hee watches for you in the greene graſſe, even amongſt the flowers. Wee ſee, — that God ſuffers not the Devill to take a ſhape, but ſuch a one as will decipher his practices. And the ſerpent which deceived Eve, was crafty in a high degree of craft: for, many write, that his making64 was upright; and that hee was beautified with a head and face, ſomewhat like hers. And he, that had beene throwne from heaven, becauſe hee deſired to be like God; comes now with a trick to the weaker of the two; and his firſt temptation, is a motion to the deſire of being like God: Yee ſhall be as Gods. Hee knew by experience, that the deſire of being like God, was likeGen 3. 5. enough to lay them low enough under him. And becauſe they would be like God, Chriſt would be a man. And he comes with a faire apple; a pretty thing for the curioſity of a woman, to look upon, and deſire to touch, and play with. The holy Scripture gives three reaſons, which moved her to eat of it: three reaſons, beſides the Devil's temptation; every one being gathered from ſome conceived excellencie in the fruit. And when the woman ſaw, that the tree was good forGen. 3. 6. food: and that it was pleaſant to the eyes, and a tree to be deſired to make one wiſe, alas fooliſh woman! ſhee tooke of the fruit thereof, and did eat. Shee lov'd her belly too well: Shee delighted in glittering ſhewes; and ſhe would be wiſe above her condition. And theſe are three great faults amongſt Eves daughters. But as the profeſſion of wiſedome, ſo the deſire of wiſedome, which involveth knowledge of things above our65 degree, and out of our end; is an adjunct of folly. S. Paul ſaith of the old Philoſophers, Profeſſing themſelves to be wiſe, they became fooles. And ſhe, deſiring to be wiſe, becameRom. 1. 12 a very foole. And now, Adam and his wife hid themſelves from the preſence of the LordGen. 3 8. God among the trees of the Garden. They add folly to folly; they hide themſelves from the preſence of him, that is omnipreſent. And they are fooles indeed, to think, the trees of the garden will be more true to them, then to God: or, that the Trees will hide an injury, done to one of the beſt trees in the garden. And they doe not hide themſelves onely, but alſo, their fault; and toſſe it from one to another. The man cries out: The woman whom thou gaveſt to be with mee, ſhee gave me of the tree, and I did eat. TheGen 3. 12. woman cries out lowder then he: The ſerpent beguiled mee, and I did eat. They hidVer•3. their ſinnes, and incurred a curſe: Wee, to avoid a curſe, muſt confeſſe our ſinnes, and lay them open. But, the woman makes her excuſe with leſſe fault, becauſe ſhee was the weaker party, and taught by the example of her husband. And he throwes the fault upon his wife; ſhee not back upon him, but upon the Devill. And the ſerpent, the Devils inſtrument in his appearance, was laid upon his belly for it: and bound to hard66 fare to eat duſt, all the dayes of his life. And God goes in his curſes, as they proceeded in their ſinnes: he firſt curſes the ſerpent, then the woman, and afterwards, the man, who ſinned after them all. But had he ſtood, ſay the Interpreters, we never had fallen. And the Schoole-men give a ſufficient reaſon; for, he was the root both of Eve and us. And he cannot be freed from the greateſt fault. For, it was more in him, to be deluded by his wife; then, in her, to be deceived by the Devill.
MEDITATION. VI.
GOd being now conſtrained to baniſh Adam and his wife out of Paradiſe: ſtay'd them notwithſtanding, within the ſight of it. They were not baniſhed into a farre Country: that they might know, they ſhould be ſhortly reſtor'd: and that, having Paradiſe alwayes before their eyes, they might loath ſin, the deadly cauſe of their expulſion. God created all this faire globe of the world, for man; and therefore, did not faſhion him before the ſixth day, till the houſe was furniſhed, and made in all points, fit for his entertainment. All the ſtrange variety of creatures, abiding either in Aire,67 Earth, or Sea, were made ſuch and ſuch, to help him forward in ſuch and ſuch manner, to his ſupernaturall end: and therefore, God gave to no creature, an upright ſtature, and a tongue to ſpeake, and praiſe him, but to man: becauſe all the benefits, hee caſt upon other things, were not given to them for themſelves, but in order to man; being rather his, then their benefits. And both Angels, and man, having fallen from God, hee turnes away from the Angels, and turnes with a ſweet face, and with loving embraces unto man. For, the Angels being endowed with moſt eminent abilities of nature, and that, highly perfected by Grace; and having no clog of body to waigh down the ſpirit, ſinn'd of meere malice, without a Tempter, and without an example; and therefore, fell beneath the benefit of a Redeemer. One reaſon of this love of God to man is prettily expreſſed, by way of Hiſtory: A man, and a woman were found guilty of theft; whereof the woman, was bigg with childe. The man having nothing to ſay for himſelfe, is condemned, and ſent away to the place of execution. The woman cries, and pleads, ſhee is with childe; and though condemn'd, is onely ſent to priſon; where ſhee gives ſuch efficacious ſignes of her ſorrow, and Repentance; that68 after a while, ſhe & the fruit of her womb, are ſet at liberty. Now the hiſtory turnes to a ſimilitude; and the fable becomes true hiſtorie. The Angels had nothing to ſay, and their generations were compleat, one Angell doth not beget another, and were immediatly ſent to the place of execution. But Adam and Eve were both with child, their number was not up; they radically cōtained in them, thouſands of thouſands that ſhould come after them; and they were ſpar'd for their childrens ſakes, till they were ſpar'd for their own