THE CONVERsion of a Sinner: Faithfully translated out of Italian, by M. K.  Psalm. 36. vers. 27. 
Declina a malo, & fac Bonum.  
Leave sin, ere sin leave thee: do good,  
And both without delay:  
Less fit, he will to morrow be,  
Who is not fit to day.  
LONDON Printed by Thomas Creed, for I. P.   

To the Reader.  
I Do here present unto thy favourable view (most courteous and gentle Reader) this Pamphlet, which wanting a particular Patron, cometh (as it were) a begging unto thee, for no less than thy whole self, and that chief for thine own good. The way to protect it, is to direct thy life by it, & to suffer it to possess thee, assoon as thou hast possessed it: which if thou be so happy to accomplish, it will teach thee to win Love by fear: Life by death: yea, everlasting happiness, by the transitory troubles of this wretched world. And to give it just praise, in a word, it is a work of the learned and spiritual Granado, aptly translated by a virtuous Gentleman, into our English.  

Lamentationes  
Let Dread of pain for sin in after time,  
Let Shame to see thyself ensnared so,  
Let Grief conceived for foul accursed crime,  
Let Hate of sin the worker of thy woe.  
With Dread, with Shame, with Grief, with Hate enforce,  
To dew the cheeks with tears of deep remorse.   

Carmen.  
So Hate of sin shall make God's Love to grow,  
So Grief shall harbour Hope within thy heart:  
So Dread shall cause the flood of joy to flow:  
So Shame shall send sweet Solace to thy smart.  
So Love, so Hope, so joy, so Solace sweet,  
Shall make thy soul in heavenly bliss to fleet.   

Vae.  
Woe where no Hate doth no such Love allure,  
Woe where such Grief makes no such Hope proceed:  
Woe where such Dread doth no such joy procure,  
Woe where such Shame doth no such Solace breed.  
Woe where no Hate, no Grief, no Dread, no Shame  
No Love, no Hope, no joy, no Solace frame.   
Non tardes converti ad Deum.   

A brief Treatise, exhorting sinners to repentance, commonly called, The Conversion of a sinner.  

The Argument.  
Sinners are commonly converted to God, through fear and dread. Who if they read and well weigh holy writ, would tremble and quake, considering the imminent perils wherein they dwell, and would divert from their wicked ways, to the path of perfection, thereby the better to rid themselves from the gnawing gripes of a guilty conscience, and dreadful torments due unto sin, which otherwise God threateneth upon them.  
The first Chapter.  
WE read in the divine Scriptures, that God, before he defaced & utterly razed the City of Jerusalem, by Nabuchodonozor king of Babylon, said to the Prophet jeremy in this wise: 
jere 32.  Take a book not written in before, and write therein, that which I have said unto thee, against juda, and against Israel, from the first day I began to talk with thee, even until this present day, and publish it in the presence of all the people, thereby to prove, whether this Nation understanding the manifold miseries I mind to bring upon them, will revolt from their iniquities, that in so doing, I may have compassion upon them, pardon their offences, and cease to exercise the whip of my wrath which I have already prepared. The Scripture addeth further, that Baruch, Scribe to this Prophet, pronouncing that which he had written, in the open audience & assembly of the people and Princes, such horror and fear fell amongst them, that as men amazed, each beheld others, considering the heaps of woes and wretchedness which then was uttered before them.  
This is the way (gentle Reader) that God then practised, and hath done many times since, to daunt men's hearts, and violently to wrest them from their wickedness, as the most effectual and forcible means that may be found to that purpose. For such and so great are the things which the Scriptures and our faith daily telleth us in the favour of virtue, and hatred of vice, that if men would read them attentively, and ponder them advisedly, there is no doubt but their hearts would relent, and their flesh tremble thereat, considering the dreadful dangers wherein they dwell. Wherefore the chiefest thing that the Prophet desired above all others, 
Deut. ●2  for the redress of this uncurable malady, was this, when he said: I would GOD this senseless generation which are utterly devoid of counsel, did know, and thoroughly foresee what will happen upon them, which if they did (as in duty they are bound to do) they could not possibly proceed or continued longer in their so crooked course of life. But they are all sunk in the vile sink of sensual delights: some hunt after honours, some for high promotions and dignities, others beating their brains day and night how to  curiously their carrion corpse, and to accomplish their carnal concupiscence: have no time, eyes, nor heart, to look to their own estate, and with the eyes of their mind, to meditate upon these things, whereof the Prophet speaketh, very properly, 
Osea. 7  saying: Behold, Ephraim is like unto a Dove deceived, that hath no heart. For the wicked have heart, wit, and will enough, to love, to covet, and to count again, and again, upon the pelf of this world, but they have neither wit nor will, once to think upon the glory of the world to come, which is so infinite and so inestimable, that if the least part thereof be exactly tried and examined in the mind, it would suffice to evacuate the filthy smoke which hath shut up the eyes of their understanding, and to make them to acknowledge and confess their own error. For this cause therefore being moved principally, I have thought it very requisite to set down certain persuasions tending to this purpose, to the view of all that list to read or write them. Following herein the example of the Prophet jeremy, to show not only the grievous calamities that God hath prepared for the unjust, but also the perfect bliss that he hath provided for his servants the godly, that the evil disposed returning from their wicked race, may be received into the favour and mercy of God, released of their trespasses, and delivered from all those punishments which God menazeth upon them in holy scriptures.   

The Argument.  
A Christian ought to consider his profession, that he is subject to death, and must render a strait account in the other life, of all his doings here. Where he shall discern sensibly, the cries and griefs intolerable, wherewith death & sin rewardeth the ungodly, both here and in the world to come, there neither the beauty and fine feature of the body, neither the flattery of false fortune, nor yet the pomp of stately dignity, shall aught prevail to withstand the wrath of the just judge, against the wretched sinner.  
Chap. II.  
TAking my first entry in that which is most objected to our senses: Remember that thou art a Christian, and a man. Concerning thou art a man, hold it for a ground infallible, that thou shalt die: after which death, because thou art a Christian, be sure thou shalt give up a reckoning of thy life forepast. Of this, the faith which we profess will not permit us to doubt: that other, daily experience doth confirm assuredly, so that none can shun or escape the one nor the other. Be he Pope, Prince, or Emperor, there shall come a time wherein either he shall see bright day continually, or ugly night incessantly. That time shall come without all doubt, yet thou knowest not when, whether it will be to day or to morrow. In what time thou now readest this writing, whole and sound in all thy senses and members, measuring the vayes of thy life according to thy business, and delights, shalt see thyself in a bed with a candle in thy hand, attending the dint of death, and sentence pronounced against humane kind, which by no manner suit may be released. There shall be presented unto thee, the deprivation of all earthly delights, the insupportable pain and passion of death, the end and last Pageant of thy life, the horror of thy grave, the cursed condition of thy body, allotted to be devoured of worms. But the wretched estate of the soul will be much more grievous unto thee, which being yet in the body, knoweth not after an hour or two where his habitation shall be assigned.  
Then in a moment, thou shalt see thyself set before the tribunal seat of God almighty, blaming and accusing unto him thine own naughty life. There thou shalt clearly discern she foul enormous crimes whereof thou art guilty, and shall curse ten thousand times, the day in which thou didst transgress the commandments of God, and the delight which stirred thee thereunto. Then shalt thou marvel at thyself, how for so brickle pleasures (as are those which thou imbrasedst) didst hazard thyself to endure perpetual torments, whereof thou now beginnest to have a taste and smack, for that the joys being now quite vanished away, and the doom due unto thee approaching near, that slender substance which was in them losing his essence and being, seemeth that it was nothing at all: But the remorse and sting wherewith they presently prick and press thy conscience, appeareth to be of inestimable force and efficacy.  
Perceiving therefore, how for such transitory trifles, thou art at point to be bereaved of so incomparable felicity, being abashed thereat, considerest thine own distress, for that thou having run out thy race, there resteth no longer continuance of life, nor leisure of repentance, neither thy worldly friends, neither the Idols to whom thou hast avowed the whole travail and term of thy life, can assist or secure thee at all, yea those things which erst thou lovedst most tenderly, will be here unto thee the cause of grétest grief. Tell me I pray thee, when thou shalt see thyself plunged in this perplexity, whither wilt thou turn? what wilt thou do? to whom will't thou cry? To go back it is impossible, so go forward intolerable, to remain as thou art, thou mayest not: what then wilt thou do? Then saith God, by the mouth of the Prophet, the Sun shall not be seen of the ungodly in the midday, and I will bring darkness upon them in the bright day, and I will convert their pleasant sports to bitter plaints: their dancing and dallying, to dolour and deadly dread. Oh what words be these? 
Ezech. 32  The Sun shall go down in the midday, because she huge heap of sin then overwhelming the wicked, which seeing by the just judgement of God, the course of their life and time of repentance to b● abridged, many of them are so appalled with fear, that they fall to flat despair of the mildness and mercy of God. And abiding yet in the midst of the day, for so much as is remaynent of their mortal life, which is the very time to merit or not to merit: it seemeth unto them that they have no longer respect to do good or evil, but are utterly excluded of both: verily the passion of fear is of great force and vehemency, which maketh things that be far from us, seem to be present: and of a trifle, raiseth a tragedy. If the consideration of this, causeth them sometime to quake, a little, what then shall the fear of their undoubted and just jeopardy cause them to do? They being yet in this life, begin to suffer sensibly the grief and reproach of the Reprobate, and in one very moment, are both quick and dead. For bewailing the present pleasures which they must forsake, begin to seel the future misery which so much they fear. They hold them most happy which tarry here behind, whereby they are provoked to envy, which greatly augmenteth their grief. To those the Sun goeth down at noon days, for so much, as which way soever they cast their eyes, they see themselves debarred on every side from access to Heaven, and that no beam or spark of comfort appeareth unto them: for if they regard the bounty of God, they see how sore they have offended him: if they behold his justice, they see him in a manner rigorously to rush upon them: for that hitherto the time and tide hath been at their beck, but now Gods turn is at hand: If they look back to their life forepast, they see what accusations groweth thereof: If to the time present, they see themselves to peck over the perch by piecemeal: If they look forward a little further, they behold the judge attending for their accounts. Alas what shall the seely wretches do, being attainted with so many trespasses, and affrighted with such furious fears at once? For this cause the Prophet said, that the bright day shall be turned into darkness, thereby to give us notice, that those things whereof the wicked are wont to take their greatest consolation, should then be unto them the chiefest cause of their discomfort. It is a good thing, I grant, for a man to see his sons, his friends, his house, his worldly works, and all that he loveth beside: but then this cheerful light shall be altogether converted to profound darkness, for that all these things shall heap more heaviness, and shall become most bitter persecutors of their affectioned lovers. For as by nature and common custom, we take no small delight in the present possession of those things which we love and like well: So likewise, the loss thereof bringeth excessive grief. Therefore let the sweet children depart out of their father's sight when he lieth at point of death, and let the mother also absent herself, that she may not give and receive by her presence so many sharp assaults of sorrow. And his departure being into so far countries, his journey through so strange and unknown ways, the pinching smart which he abideth, will not permit him to have confidence in any thing, neither will grant him to take his leave of his friends. If thou standest now upon the same terms I spoke of, thou shalt well perceive I have not swerved from the truth: but if thou be not yet come to this gulf, believe them that have made their passage before thee, as Ecclesiastes saith, They which pass over the Seas do tell strange perils: if such things do occur ordinarily before the departure, what shall happen after? If the eve and vigil be so dreadful, how shall the feast itself be, and day of salvation? Tell me, I pray thee, what wilt thou thinks, when thou being deprived of this light and life, alone, poor and naked, without any other companion then thine own guilty conscience, shalt make thy appearance be-before the supernal seat of the righteous judge, where a rigorous and severs reckoning shall be erected of thee. There shall be no talk of hanging, heading, or depriving of this mortal life, but only of the death and life eternal. If in the records of this rueful reckoning, thou be deeply charged with arrearages, debts, and trespasses, what irksome agonies shall thy poor heart then endure? How much shalt thou be confounded? How sore shalt thou repent thee to have done amiss? How distressed of comfort and counsel shalt thou be The grief of the Princes of juda was exceeding great, when they beheld the piercing sword and Soldiers of Sesacke King of Egypt, to be dispersed through the streets of Jerusalem, when by their present plague and punishment, they recognised and confessed their former defects. But what is all this, being compared to the confusion and we which there shall wrap the wicked on every side? what shall they do? whither shall they flee? who shall be their shield and befence? For there weeping and wring of hands do not move compassion: there detesting of former follies, is not accounted of: there no petition, no promise will be accepted: There no truce days or time of repentance can be granted, for that having finished the last pageant of the play, they cannot enter the stage again to play their part afresh: there neither eloquence, nor worldly wealth, nor favour, may purchase pardon, for that Solomon saith: 
Prou. 11. Ezech. 17.  In the days of tribulation richness shall be of no force, and shall be despised utterly: only justice and equity shall defend thee from death. But who can describe or paint in his colours the severity of his judgement?  
This exhortation then being so good and so fruitful, I beseech thee dear brother, suck out the sap and sweet thereof for thy commodity, scanning and considering attentively this, whereupon upon thou must trust and depend, as she thing which concerneth thy perpetual wealth or woe, and though herein are many things well worthy to be noted, yet above all others, let these three things never be forgotten. Then first, what grievous pain thou must then suffer, for having purchased by thy desert God's indignation. The second, how fervently thou wilt wish that thou hadst framed thy life according to his holy will and pleasure. The third, that look what penance thou wouldst then be glad to perform, if it might be granted thee: now through mature deliberation, to assay and labour to live in such sort as then thou wilt wish to have lived.   

The Argument.  
At the day of judgement, a Christian must be accountable particularly of each little thought and fact committed in this life: where the sinner being convicted by the just sentence of God, shall be detruded to perpetual pains, ghastly shrieks, and to the profound darkness of the infernal prison: and there being scorched with the glowing coals which be never extincted through, wrath and fury, shall curse both God and himself, and calling eftsoons to mind, all the good and evil which he hath omitted and committed, augmenteth thereby his own annoy. He therefore that will not object himself to so many miseries, must call himself to repentance in time.  
Chap. III.  
AFter death, followeth the particular and special judgement of every man, and after that the general and universal judgement of all men, wherein shall be fulfilled the saying of the Apostle, We must all of force show ourselves before the judgement seat of God, that every one may give an account of the good & evil he hath done in this body. Many matters are to be considered in this judgement, but one of the chiefest, is, to mark of what things we must give a reckoning. I will search Jerusalem, diligently (saith God) with a candle in my hand. Such is the phrase of the Scripture, whereby we ought to be admonished, how narrowly we shall be then sisted and searched, in the very lest things that may be. For there shall not be one fond cogitation, nor one minute of an hour misspent, but it shall be skored up in this reckoning. Who is not abashed and appalled at these words of our Saviour, saying? Verily I say unto you, that at the time of this audite, men shall be accountable of every idle word which they speak unadvisedly. Then if of these words which hurt or hinder no man, a reckoning shall be required, what shall be required, I pray you, of dishonest and unseemly speeches, of filthy imaginations, of hands bathed and imbrued with blood, of wanton looks and uncontinent eyes? In sign, of the whole life employed and consumed in lewdness and treachery? If this be true, as it is most true, what can be inferred or gainsaid, why this judgement should not be so rigorous as it is known to be indeed? How full of ignominy shall he bes, who in the open face of such a reverent Senate, is prossed and burdened with each vain word that hath passed him from the time of his nativity? Who will not wonder at such a strange demand never heard of before? and who durst to avouch it, unless it had been the words of Gods own mouth? What King hath ever exacted an account of any his subjects to the value of of a pin? O how excellent is the Christian religion, how pure is the sincerity which by it we are taught, and with how great care doth it demand the same purity again, and how sharply doth it punish our defects herein. Further, how passing great shallbe the shame and reproach of the reprobate, when all the mischiefs which hitherto they have closely covered in the corners of their house, and all the brutish vehaviour of their youth, with all the secret sores and festered carbunckles of their conscience, shall be published in the theatre, and open view of all the world. And further, who standeth upon such sure ground, that hearing this, his colour doth not begin to changed copis? Some rather than they will disclose the secrets of their heart to one man, in a place sequestered from all access, being overcome with shame, in eschewing thereof, have bidden the brunt of many huge perils: How shall they then be confounded when their most covert drifts and treasons shall be revealed in the presence of God and his Angels, before so many millions of men and women, as have been from the beginning, are now and shall be hereafter? This confusion shallbe so great, that as the Prophet saith, they shall cry unto the hills, 
Math. 25.  saying: O ye hills fall upon us, and close us in your Caves, that we may not show ourselves with such exceeding shame. But woe worth ye wretches, your hope is frustrate, ye toil against the tide, weighing the force of that sentence definitive, Go ye caitiffs' into everlasting fire, long since prepared for Satan and his adherents. What shall that cursed generation imagine then will become of themselves hearing this? for if, as job saith, we can scarce abide to hear his mildest words, 
job. 4.  who can abide those thundering threats of his omnipotency? These words shall be so sharp and so piercing, that at the very instant, the earth shall open itself wide and large, and into the bottom and bowels thereof, shall be whirled topsy-turvy, all those, who, 
job. 2  as the same job saith, here have had their paradise and pleasures, in sundry sorts of Music and harmony, trifleling out their time and years in all kind of mirth and jollity. This fall and crack of the earth, S. john describeth in his apocalypse, in this manner: I saw an Angel descending from heaven with great power, and with such brightness, that all the earth was lightened therewith, and he cried aloud, saying, The great City of Babylon is fallen down, and is made of the habitation of devils, and the cage of all filthy and abominable fowls. And further he said: I saw another mighty Angel lifting up on high a great stone, much like to a millstone, and did cast it into the sea, saying, With such a violence shall the great Babylon be thrown into the bottomless pit, and shall never recover his estate again. In this sort shall the ungodly fall into the black and ghastly prison full of confusion and utter desolation. 
Esay 66.  But what tongue can express the innumerable & sundry sorts of torments, in that place addressed for the wicked? There their bodies shall be broiled with furious flames continually: there their souls shall be consumed with the worm of conscience, which will never cease his grievous gnawing. There shall be that incessant howling and gnashing of teeth, whereof the Scriptures treateth in so many places. There these unhappy wretches surseysed with cruel despair and rage, shall wax wood against GOD and themselves, in such dispiteous wise, that they shall devour their own flesh, and in a frantic mood rend it with their nails, crashing their teeth together, and spilling their Entrails with sorrow and sighing, blaspheming and denying continually their creator that hath adjudged them to such sharp punishments. There every of them shall cry out upon his cursed condition and unfortunate birth, eftsoons repeating those pitiful bewailing, and woeful words of patiented job, 
job. 3.  but with a mind and intent far contrary to his. These be the words. Cursed be the day wherein I was borne, and the night in which it was said, A man is come into the world: let that day be turned into darkness: let it not be reckoned of God, nor beautified with light: let it be overwhelmed with darkness and shadow of death: let it be full fraught with obscurity and bitterness: let that night be overcast with a black cloud: let not that day be numbered among days and months of the year. Why did not death receive me so soon as I was issued out of my mother's womb? why was I not carried from the place of my birth, strait to my grave? why was I lulled in my mother's lap? or why did she give me suck? This shall be their melody, their midnight matins, their morning and evening prayer. O filthy tongues, which babble of nothing else but brawling and blasphemy. O wretched cares, which hear no other things but woeful mourning. O unhappy eyes, whose object, is misery upon misery. O wretched bodies, who have for your harbour a fiery furnace. In what case shall they then be, who here erst wallowed in wealth and wantonness? O what fléeting delight hath wrought continual grief? O what woeful habitations are addressed for you? Now gone is all your gallant glee and jollity, wherein you delighted for a moment, for which ye now lament eternally. Now what do your treasures avail you? where is your pomp and pleasure become? the seven fertile years are now ended quite, and in place thereof, are now succeeded the seven barren years, which shall so consume the abundance of those which are passed, that there shall not remain any one shadow or show thereof. Therefore all your former felicity is drenched and wrapped up in the waves of wretchedness, and are now driven to such straits and scarcity, that not so much as one drop of water shall be granted unto you, wherewith ye might somewhat assuage the raging thirst which vexeth you so furiously: neither shall your wont prosperity relieve your misery, but rather thereby ye shall be more fiercely afflicted. For therein is accomplished this saying of job, 
job. 21.24.25.  that the sugared sops of the ungodly, shallbe at the last devoured with worms. Which S. Gregory in his Morals, expoundeth in this sort: The memory of their wont joys, maketh their present pain to seem more bitter, by calling to mind how brave and frolic they have been, and how base and vile they now are come, and how for love of that which so soon slippeth away, they suffer that which never shall have end. Then shall they perceive evidently the subtle slights of the enemy, and being called to their account, shall mutter too late these sayings of Solomon: 
Sap. 5.  Woe unto us wretches, how apparent is it now unto us, that we have strayed from the trade of truth, that the light of justice hath not shined upon us, and that the sun of intelligence hath not risen over us.  
We have wasted and wearied ourselves in the crooked and crabbed way of wickedness: but we have not stepped one foot in the plain and easy path which leadeth to righteousness. What are we now abettered by our Princely train and treasure? All these things are now vanished as the fléeting shade, and as the swift Courser chased upon the spur, as a ship driven with the tide and tempest, which leaveth behind no print of his passage.  
This and such like in the infernal pit, shall be the talk of those which have been offenders. For that the hope and trust of sin, is like unto chaff chased with the wind, or as the scum and froth of the Sea dispersed with the waves, as the smoke suddenly dissolved into the air, or as the remembrance of a pilgrim passing by the way. These be there the complaints, and this the perpetual penance of the ungodly, which shall not assist them at all, because the time is passed wherein they might have been relieved hereby. Come therefore in the time of grace and repentance, and you that have ears, receive the sound advise of our Lord uttered by the Prophet, saying: 
jere. 13.  Serve and glorify God before the day be deprived, before the dark night of death steal upon you, and ere your feet be entrapped, or ye stumble at that foul black hillock. Therefore take the time and day whilst ye have it, for it shall be turned into darkness. And our Lord himself, who better than any other, knoweth the depth of this danger, advertiseth us hereof in his Evangelist, saying, 
Luke 11.  Take heed that your hearts be not oppressed with too much meat & drink, and with overmuch care and turmoil of this world, lest that dreadful day catch you at unwares, which will steal upon you like a thief, and upon all those which inhabit upon the face of the earth. Therefore watch and pray continually, that you may be delivered from these huge heaps of calamities, which hereafter will happen, that you being clean and undefiled, may be presented before the son of the pure Virgin, the promoter of all our avail and profit.   

The Argument.  
Those which have loved God, and lived according to his will, shall be rewarded in Paradise, which is the glory and merit that good men do respect. Which notwithstanding any difference that is among the elect, bringeth a common comfort and pleasure to them all, because there is perfect charity, and God is all & in every thing. Wherefore no other exercise is used there, or no other pain or travail, then to love God, to laud and glorify him incessantly for ever.  
CHAP. FOUR  
NOw that we have declared the condemnation and sharp sentence to be pronounced upon the wretched sinner: it followeth consequently, that we treat likewise of the glorious recompense wherewith the righteous shall be endued, which is nought else, but that happy life and kingdom which God hath ordained for his chosen people even from the creation of all things, which is such and so excellent, that neither with the tongue of men nor Angels it can be expressed. But that ye may have some taste of this, hear what S. Augustine briefly saith in commendation hereof, in a certain meditation of his, in this sort: O life allotted by God to them that love him, a living life, a life void of care, a blessed life, a quiet life, a pleasant life, a pure life, a chaste life, a life enemy to death, a life that knoweth no grief, void of molestation, of smart, of anxiety, void of all corruption, void of perturbations, not subject to variety, change or mutability. A life full of beauty and perfection, where no enemy shall molest thee, nor no trespass offend thee: when is perfect unity, unfeigned and holy love: where all fear is far away: where is one eternal day, without alteration: where God is seen face to face, which is the food of all that there abive. Sweet GOD, with an unsatiable heart and greedy mind, I covet thy hidden treasures, and the more I long after them, the more I lust and burn in desire: considering thee my delight, my life and Saviour, in contemplation whereof, I feel myself exceedingly refreshed and revived. O most happy life, O very blessed kingdom, altogether with out death, and without end, which dost not yield to any succession or alteration of times, where is bright day continually, without interruption of night: there it is not known what mutation meaneth, where the triumphant Soldier accompanied with a glittering crew of Angels, singeth unto GOD without ceasing, the passing praise of Zion, having gotten the crown of everlasting felicity. I would to God that my sin, my grievous guilt, were forgiven me: Thrice blessed were my soul, if after this painful pilgrimage, I might be worthy to see and behold thy glory, the beatitude, the beauty, the walls, and the gates of thy City, thy streets, thy palaces, thy noble Citizens, thy worthy King, settled in his throne of magnificence. Thy walls are made of precious stones, thy gates are beautified with shining Pearls, thy streets are paved with pure gold, which resound and ring aloud with the peals of perpetual praises. Thy houses are builded with quadrant stones, adorned with Sapphires, thy beams and rafters are of gold, where no corruption can abide, nothing may enter that is defiled. O Jerusalem, our mother, thou art brave and pleasant in thy devices, the force of no adversity is felt in thee, neither any of those discommodities are sustained which here we find. Thy joys are far above any which this wretched life can yield us. In thee is never found night, darkness, nor change of times. Thy light issueth neither from lamp, nor from the Moon, nor yet from the stars, but God the light of all lights, is ho which lighteneth thee. The supernal Emperor keepeth continual residence in the midst of thee, environed and assisted with many millions of his ministers. There the angelical quires answer each to other melodiously: there the fruits of true nobility, do yield a pleasant sent and spectacle to the beholders: there is celebrated the feast of those, who being safely arrived from the bottomless sea of these miseries and mishaps, are incorporate in one society with those which possess eternal life: There is the company of the Prophets, the royal rank of the Apostles, the invincible host of innumerable Martyrs: there is the sacred convent of grave Confessors: there are the true religious, the devout women, who despising all delights and dalliance, have conquered their frail inclination: There are the virgins and younglings, which with their virtuous indnstry, have shunned she allurements of this vile deceitful world: There are the innocent lambs, who robbing themselves of all earthly pleasures, do now skip and leap for joy, in their proper and peculiar houses. And whatsoever difference there be in glory among them, notwithstanding the solace and contentation, is common to all: There charity ruleth being entire and perfect, for that god is all in all, whom they always see, and seeing him continually, are ever inflamed with his love, therefore they loving praise him, and praising love him, all their exercise, all their endeavour, is to magnify him without ceasing or intermission. O how happy were I, and most happy, if after the dissolution of this corporal prison, I might hear the sweet musical songs of that celestial harmony, and sing Psalms of commendation to the eternal king, of all the worthy company of the most happy City. Now happy should I be, yea twice blessed, if I might attain to this felicity, to sing & stand before my King, my God, my guide, and to behold him in his glory, as himself hath promised to be seen, 
joh. 7.  when he said: O father, my desire is, that all those may be with me which thou hast given me, that they may see the clear brightness which I had with thee before the foundation of the world. And all this is vouched out of S. Augustine. Now tell me then what a cheerful day shall that be, which shall so illuminate and clarisie thy courage, if at the full consummation of this pilgrimage, thou pass from mortality to immortality, and in the same time that other● begin to droop, to doubt and dread, thou shalt begin to lift up thy head, be cause the wished day of thy redemption approacheth near. Lift up th● mind a little (said S. Hierome unto th● virgin Eustochia) out of the dungeon o● this corrupt body, and settling thyself before the gate of the heavenly tabernacle, scan and consider well the mer● of this thy present distress, and whatglorious day that day shall be unto thee wherein the virgin Mary guarded with a troup of pure virgins, shall be priest to receive & welcome thee, and wherein thy Lord & spouse himself, with all his holy Saints, shall meet thee, saying, 
Can. 2.  Come away and follow me quickly my love, my delight, my dove, for now the woeful winter is passed, the sharp showers are ceased, the tempests & whirlwinds are appeased, and here spring up sweet fragrant flowers in this land of behest. This shall be then the delight & consolation that thy soul shall receive before the high throne of that most blessed trinity, before the angels, but specially by him to whose custody thou were erst committed, when these & all the rest shall declare the sundry tribulations, the travels & persecutions that thou hast suffered for the love of Christ. S. Luke showeth, 
Act. 9  that when the charitable Tabita deceased, all the widows & poor people besought the apostle Peter in her behalf, showing him their garments which she had made: the Apostle being moved thereat, prayed unto God instantly for so merciful a woman, whereby she was restored again to life. What a singular comfort shalt thou then perceive in thy soul, when those blessed spirits shall take thee, and set thee before the divine consistory of God, publishing thy deserts, and reciting orderly thy alms, thy prayers, thy fasting, the integrity of thy life, thy sustaining of wrong, thy patience in affliction, and temperance in delights, with all thy other virtues and good deeds whatsoever? O what delectation shalt thou then reap of every good action here achieved? how shall the force and valour of virtue be manifested unto thee? There humble obedience shall triumph with victory. There virtue shall be rewarded, and the well disposed shall be regarded according to their desert. Besides this, what inward and secret solace shall that be unto thee, when thou seeing thyself arrived in so assured an harbour, shalt have regard towards the course of thy dangerous navigation passed, and shalt see the troubles and torments wherein thou livedst erst, she wiles, the ambushes of the enemy, the cruel incurtions of thieves, which new thou hast escaped. There it is where resoundeth this song of the Prophet: 
Psal. 93.  Were it not that the Lord was mindful of me, my soul should have hardly avoided the infernal habitation. But specially, when thou shalt perceive how in this world offences are multiplied, how daily so many souls descend to hell and damnation: how among such a multitude of castaways, God would associate thee into the fellowship of his chosen people, which shall be the inheritors of such a renowned kingdom. But that which passeth all this, is, to see the solemn feasts and triumphs which there are held day by day, for the welcome of their new brothers, who having overcome the world, finished and performed the race of their pilgrimage, come to receive the crown of eternity. O what joy shall it be to behold the accomplishment of that which do appertain to the setting up and new erection of the walls of the noble Jerusalem, with what sweet embracings and cullings shall they be welcomed by all the celestial court, seeing them come laden and lugged with the spoils of the vanquished foe. There they shall enter with the victorious barons, with those worthy women, which have conquered the world, together with their brickle nature. There likewise the uncorrupt virgins, murdered and martyred for their spouse sake Christ jesus, shall enter with double triumph: that is, with conquest of the flesh and of the worlds, adorned and crowned with Garlands, fraught with roses and fresh green flowers, all about their heads. In like manner, there little boys and girls mastering their tender years with discretion and virtue, shall come in to receive the hire and guerdon of their integrity. Where they shall find their friends, know their ministers, recognize their parents, and culling and kissing them affectionately, shall hear the glad tidings to be made possessors of eternal felicity. O how then shall the fruit of bertue taste deliciously, although in times past the root thereof seemed sour and unsavoury. Sweet is the shadow after noon, the fountain is pleasant to the thirsty & wearied wayfaring man: sleep and rest yield great comfort to him that hath trudged and toiled all day: but far greater contentation peace bringeth to the saints, after their weary war, security after perils, and perpetual repose after infinite travails.  
The broil of battle is now appeased, to be armed it needeth not, neither on the right fide; nor on the . The children of Israel were armed, when they went to the land of promise, but after they had conquered the country, they laid aside their weapons, and every of them forgetting quite the fear and trouble of war, they all were lodged in the harbour of rest and quietness, and enjoyed the fruition of long desired peace. There may the eyes wearied with long watching, receive their quiet sleeps. Now may the subtle serpent attending to entrap us, come out of his ambush: now may the happy Hierom betake him to rest, who made the night and day one, in lamenting his defaults and trespasses, encountering courageously the cruel conflicts of our ancient enemy: there the horrible armours do never sound of that bloody beast: there is no place forth: crooked crafty Serpent: there the venomous Basilisk doth not effende the sight nor his hissing is not heard, but the breath and sweet sound that distills loath from the love of the holy Ghost, here rangeth round about. Where is clearly discerned the royal magnificence of God himself. This is the region of rest and security, scaled above all the elements, where the dark clouds and filthy vapours do not overlappe the bright and pure air. What happy things are said of thee, O City of God? happy are they, saith Tobias, which love thee, 
Psal. 147.  and enjoy thy peace. O my soul, extol and magnify God, who hath delivered Jerusalem his holy city, from troubles and vexation. Now blessed should I be, if hereafter in the remnant of my time, I might see the beauty and brightness of Jerusalem, whose gates shall be of Sapphires, and of polished Smaredges, the circuit of whose wall shall be of pearl and precious stone, the streets shall be of white marble, interlaced with pure Alabaster, and every place resoundeth with Alleluia, and voices of gratulation. O merry, sweet, velectable counsel, O high renowned glory, O blessed society, who shall be those happy Christians, picked or sorted out to dwell in thee? It seemeth a hard thing to desire thee, yet no man can live without this desire. O sons of Adam, O wretched generation of men, how sensual and abject are your thoughts, for if this be the viands or food ye ought to feed upon, what other thing do you labour for? whereabout do you go? what, will ye lose a benefit so inestimable, rather than ye will travail a little? If this may be obtained with labour and pain, for mine own part I desire them, I call and cry to all the travails and toils that may be suffered in the world to come upon me, that tribulations turmoil and toss me at their pleasure, that my body be vexed with infirmities of all sorts, and my mind afflicted with sorrow and anxieties: let both the one and the other consume me in grief: let all the creatures of the world rise up and impugn me: let me be the reproach of men, the outcast of the world: let my life be spent in dol● and distress, and my years finished in woeful weepings: For all this I make no reckoning, so that after I may communicate and have my part with the Saints in Heaven, and may have eternal rest in the day of tribulation, and may ascend to the people which are clothed and adorned with that shining glory. Go to now, O foolish worldling, drudge and toil for high titles and dignities, erect lodgings and palaces, enlarge the limits of thy possession, let Kingdoms, and if thou wilt, let the whole world be at thy commandment: yet for all this, thou shalt not be so great as the least of God's servants, who receiveth that which the world cannot ginohim, and yet possesseth eternity. Thou with thy riches and riot shalt accompany the rich glutton in the damp of eternal damnation: he with poor Lazarus shall be carried up with Angels, and conveyed into Abraham's bosom.   

The Argument.  
In the pains of hell, the sinner can have no comfort, for as the lot of the blessed is an universal prosperity, which in it containeth all good things: so the estate of the reprobate is a general and universal misery, which comprehendeth all evils in itself. For there the senses of the convicted sinner shall be tormented particularly, one after another, proportionally to the crimes they have committed, without all hope of end or release of their grief, which shall be eternal, eager, infinite, sharp, without intermission.  
Chap. V.  
THe least part of these rewards, were enough to stir up our earthly and lumpish hearts to do much more than that which we are eni●yn●● vn●o by the commandments of God. But what if with this glory exceeding all measure, we adjoin in like manner the unmeasurable punishments provided for the wicked? For that those cannot there be revealed with this saying: What if I be a castaway? no other inconvenience ensueth thereof, then never to see the glory of God, and to be hereafter as though I never were, not knowing good nor evil. But they miss in their reckoning, being allotted perforce to take one of these unequal conditions, that is, either to be glorified with Angels, or accursed with Devils: to rule with God eternally, or to burn in hell perpetually. The one of these twain they must needs elect for the place of their perpetual abode. These be the two baskets which God foreshowed in a figure to the Prophet before the Gate of the temple, the one of them filled with delicate and wholesome figs: the other full of such filthy and unsavoury figs, that every man abhorred to taste or touch them. Which signifieth nothing else then the odds and difference of two forts of people: the one is of the chosen, to whom God hath bestowed his mercies bountifully: the other of the abjects, to whom God extendeth the heavy hand of his justice. And the lot of the first sort is so excellent flourishing, and that of the others so woeful & wretched, that the greatness of these two extremes, so much differing between themselves, cannot be specified by any words. But omitting all other considerations, the state of the happy is an universal felicity, wherein all good things are contained: and contrariwise, the condition of the wicked, is the haven where arriveth all unhappiness, the nurse of sorrow, and harbour of distress. All the miseries which are in●●dent to this life, be miseries in special, and therefore do not torment all our members generally, but one or some of them alone. For example hereof, we see some men grieved in their eyes, some in their ears, many in their stomachs, others in their bellies, and not a few at the very heart. Yet none of these infirmities do vex all the senses universally at one instant, but some of them particularly. Notwithstanding, the smart is oft full sharp and vehement, and the night over tedious to him that abideth either of these griefs, be it but the aching of a tooth or gum. Admit now, that a certain man should suffer such an universal punishment, that no member, sense, or joint, should be free from peculiar torments, and that at one very instant he must abide most bitter pains in the head, in his eyes, in his teeth, ears, stomach, liver, heart, and to be short, in all the other members and joints of his body, and that he lay in this perplexity upon a bed, feeling the several griefs assigned to every member. What excessive sorrow should he suffer, thinkest thou, which were tormented in this sorte● or what thing could be more miserable and pitiful to behold? If thou sawest a dog in that distress, it would perforce move thee to compassion. This dear brother (if any comparison may be used herein) is that, which not for the space of one night, but for ever, is suffered in the pit that perpetually burneth with fire and brimstone. For as the ungodly do grievously offend God with all their senses & members, making them the instruments to further their frantic follies & excesses: so by the ordinance of God, there they are all tormented, & every of them abideth his proper punishment. For there the incontinent eyes shall be afflicted & affrighted with the ugly sight of devils: the ears with confused cries and complaints: the nose with the intolerable stench of that filthy den: the taste, with raging thirst and famine: the feeling, and all the body beside, with piercing cold & heat: the imagination shall be tormented with the apprehension of present pain: the memory, by having still in mind the pleasures passed: the understanding, with consideration of the glorious kingdom lost, & cursed condition that is happened. The divine Scriptures tures signifieth unto us this plurality of pains, where it saith, that in hell shall be famine, 
Mar. 15. Psal. 10.  thirst, weeping, and gnashing of teeth, the two edged sword, the spirits and creatures of revenge, serpents, worms, scorpions, bytles, sour sasages, water distilled of gall, stormy tempests, and other such like annoyances. By which it frameth and preferreth to our presence, an evident pattern of the divers and dreadful plagues practised in hell. 
Exod. 10.  Finally, there shall be inward and outward darkness, both of the body and mind, far more obscure than those of Egypt, which might be felt and touched with the hand. There shall be fire, but not such as we use commonly, which smarteth a little, and vanisheth quickly: but such as is most fit for that place, that is, which afflicteth vehemently, and never ceaseth to torment. If this be true, how can it be, that those which believe and confess the same, should line so loosely, and sleep in such security? What danger, what tedious toil would not any man gladly undertake, rather than he would endure one day, yea one hour, the least of these torments? Why then to shun a perpetuity of calamities so tragical, do they not employ themselves to so easy travail as that which is requisite to the following of virtue? This thing were enough to sequester a man's soul from his senses, and to bring him to an ecstasy, that deliberateth advisedly hereupon. Yet if among these huge heaps of miseries, were any hope of end or redress, it would qualify somewhat their gripings corsies: but alas, they find it there far otherwise, for the gates of comfort are closed up on all sides. In all kind of heaviness that may happen in this life, resteth always some relief, wherein the afflicted may repose himself, as that which is administered either by reason of time, friends, or company of many which do participate with him in the same mishap, or by hope to be released at last, may mitigate their malady: But in this evil only, the conduits of grace are so stopped, and the passages of common comfort so interrupted, that these unhappy creatures can find favour on no side, neither from heaven, neither from the earth, neither of the time passed, nor present, nor of that to come, nor of aught that can be else, but they seem to be pressed and pierced of all parts, and that all creatures conspire against them, whereby at last they ware wood and wrath with themselves. This is the extreme straightness, whereof the wicked bewail themselves by the Prophet, in this sort: 
Psal. 17.  The dread of death hath hedged me in on every side, and the infernal fright's have environed met round about, in such wise, that whereon soever they peep or pry, their object is always misery exempted of mercy. The Virgins which stood priest at the Palace of their spouse, were received in, 
Matth. 15.  as the Evangelist saith, and suddenly the gates were locked. O perpetual pinning fast, O immortal enclosure, O gate of comfort which never shall be opened, which is as though he had said, Closed is the port of pardon, shut is the door and hatch of hope and intercession, of grace, of consolation, and of meriting any more. The six days are vanished, wherein Manna was to be gathered, but the Sabbath it could not be found, wherefore he must fast always, which would not provide for himself in time. The y●le sluggard (saith Solomon) fearing the cold will not till his ground in the Winter, whereby he shall beg in the summer, and nothing shall be given him. And again, He that laboureth in the summer and time of harvest, is discreet: but he that than betakes him to sleep, is the son of perdition. What greater confusion can there be then that which happened to the rich miser, who might have purchased his place in heaven with the crumbs of bread that fell from his table: by his covetousness in detaining that little, is now brought to such penury himself, that he craveth, & shall crave continually one drop of water, & shall never obtain it. In whose heart doth not this request of that wretch move a remorse. O father Abraham, pity my case, and send Lazarus, 
Luke 16.  that he may dip the top of his finger in the water, and may touch my tongue therewith, for this fire tormenteth me out of measure. What less petition could be demanded then this? for he durst not request one vessel of water, neither would he that Lazarus should wet all his hand, nor his whole finger, (which is to be wondered at) but only the top of his finger, and yet it would not be granted unto him. By which thou seest how close the gates of grace are shulte, and how far the prohibition and curse stretcheth, which is prepared for the ungodly, sith they cannot get so small a matter. In such sort, that cast they their ghastly looks which way they will, let them extend their hand to what place them list, they shall find no crumb of comfort, be it never so small. And as one fallen into the sea, plunging in the depth of the waters, can find no perfect footing, and often stretching out his arm, catcheth and graspeth round about in vain, being now even swallowed in the gulf: So shall it happen to the accursed crew, to whom the world is without any stability, for wading in the waves of such woe & wretchedness, and always striving with death, without trust or stay of any succour to lean unto. Of all the griefs which is suffered in that mischievous place and harbour of adversity, this is the greatest: for if these punishments were determinable by any time, yea though it were a thousand years, or a hundred thousand million of years, it were some kind of comfort, for that which hath end, is not altogether to be dispraïsed: but the pain of the wicked shall be eternal, and the time of their distress shall be coequal with the divine glory of God: so long as God shall live, so long shall they die: and when God shall cease to be that he is, then shall they likewise leave to be that they are. O dying life, O living and immortal death, I know not whether I should call thee life or death, for if thou be life, why diest thou? if thou be death, how dost thou still endure? I will not therefore call thee the one nor the other, for that neither the one nor the other, containeth aught that good is. Life hath his limits, and death dureth but for a time, which much availeth to the assuaging of sorrows, but in thee are neither bounds nor space at all. What then art thou? Verily thou art the penance of life, and the plague of death, for thou hast the sting and torment of death everlastingly, and of life thou hast the perpetuity without intermission. GOD spoiled both life and death of their happiness, and committed to thee, that which was left for the perpetual punishment of the ungodly. O cursed confection, O bitter pill, bearest utterly of all the benefits and delights that floweth from our sweet Samour Christ, which is the food that all wretched sinners feed upon. I wish therefore, dear brother, that not seldom thou wouldst erect thy earthly mind to the consideration of this eternity, and as a beast of the world wouldst sometimes make thy repast thereupon. Which that thou mayest perform effectually, propone before thy eyes of understanding, the affliction that a sick man suffereth in one night, specially if he be seized with some sharp infirmity. Mark I pray thee, how oft he turneth & walloweth in his very bed, how he can take no kind of rest, how the night seemeth so long unto him, that he reckoneth every hour of the clock, & each hour seemeth a day long. He looketh & longeth for the light, which nought or little availeth to moderate his misery. Then if this sorrow be so great and insupportable, what shall the pain be of that eternal night, which hath no morning nor dawn of day? O profound darkness, O night perpetual, O night accursed by Gods own mouth, the light which was wont to lift up itself in the morning, is not seen in thee. Consider now what a torment it is to live always in such a night as this is, not couched in a soft bed, as a sick man is, but rather in a furnace flaming with fires. What shoulders can be able to abide these so fervent heats? what heart will not melt with sorrow, to continue in such torment for ever? Which of you (saith God by the Prophet) can sustain that consuming fire, and live in that excessive heat? O dreadful threats, if that a man cannot endure possibly to put the top of his finger upon one glowing coal, whilst a Pater noster is said: how shall he abide to broil both body and soul in these eternal flames, which are so fierce and vehement, that comparing them to those which here we see in this world, seem of no more force than fire painted on the walls? Is there any judgement in the earth? have men understanding? do they perceive the weight of these words and threats? think they that those are devices feigned by Poets? or do they persuade themselves that it toucheth some others, and pertaineth not to them? Wherein they are much deceived, and sottishly feed their foolish fancy, sith it is verified by the eternal truth, saying, Heaven and earth shall decay, but my word shall never want his force and vigour.   

The Argument.  
We have great cause to be the servants and affectionate friends of God, as well for the gifts of nature bestowed upon us, and the infusion of grace which we have already, and hereafter hope to receive, as also for dread of his wrath. Among which benefits and graces granted unto us, the Sacraments are most precious. Having then received such and so many benefits of him, we ought not to show ourselves ingrateful, that all his troubles and travels suffered here on earth, may be for our behoof and profit.  
CHAP. VI  
SOme man peradventure will marvel why I should accumulate so many reasons to justify this that I have begun, and to confirm an approved verity, and a thing so commendable as is that atchiving of virtue, but this discourse is not addressed to that end, nor to extenuate any doubt that may be in a matter so manifest.  
But for that monstrous is the malice of our corrupt mind, and the conflicts very cruel which strive to destroy the sovereignty of renowned virtue, it is requisite that her bulwarks be of sufficient strength to bear the brunt and shock of all assaults. But for my better proof and progress of this matter, it shall not be amiss to adjoin here unto, how much we are bound to the service of God, not only for hope of the hire which we expect at his hands, nor for dread of his justice, but chiefly for those good things which by him we presently enjoy. For if all creatures embrace their benefactors, and bruit beasts acknowledge them by whom they have been relieved: yea, if the law of thanksgiving be of such force, that the fierce Tigers, Lions, and Serpents, yield to her segnioritie, and live under her lore, how shall I escape to be accounted more cruel than those beasts, if I should not love and magnify him, who hath been so beneficial unto me? What is there either in me or without me,  is not issued from the bounty of God? Thou Lord hast created my soul to thine own image and similitude, thou hast disposed the organs of my body, and beautified it with such feature and variety of members and senses, that regarding well the curious cunning of the work, appeareth that it can be wrought by no other artificier than thyself. Thou haste and dost ordain daily all things necessary for the preservation of this thy work, thy providence is my guide, thy hand doth sustain me, thy creatures serve me, thy medicines heal me, thy food doth nourish me, thy Angel's guard and keep me, thy wisdom instructeth me, thy mercy provideth for me, and thy patience supporteth me: Finally, all that I have, are thy goods, thy grace, and thy mercy.  
For who giveth me my essence, to be that I am, but thou that art the Fountain of all essence and being.  
By whose benefit do I live, if not by thine, which givest light and life to all them that breath? who giveth me judgement and understanding, if not thou which art the lamp of eternal light? Therefore what should a man do for such a one, who hath him so much his benefactor? Why should he not serve him with all his forces both of body and mind, who hath made him all, and doth preserve him all, both body and soul, and by whose direction he is governed altogether? Wherefore if we be so much bound unto him for his benefits given us by nature, how can we gratify him sufficiently for those his gifts of grace? How canst thou countervail his courtesy, who amongst so sundry sorts of people and nations of Infidels, hath singled thee out for himself, hath created thee a Christian, and hath washed thee with the water that distilled from his precious side, and there hath adorned thee for his son, and hath invested thee with all habits and ornaments that are requisite for that dignity? But after, when again thou were fallen from this pre-eminence, who can declare how patiently he did hold thee up, when thou sinnedst? with what eyes did he behold thee, when thou madest no reckoning of him? how carefully did he guard thee, when thou didst procrastinate thy return unto him? with how many holy instincts did he stir thee? with how many heralds did he summon thee to come, that at the last, forsaking thy former follies, shouldest bow to his holy will and bent?  
But what shall I say of that supernal grace, of that most excellent benefit of our redemption? O Lord the heavens bless and extol thee, and the Angels sing praises of thy marvelous works. What need hadst thou of our avail, or how could our annoy be prejudicial unto thee? If I offend (saith job) what hurt is it unto him? and if thine iniquities abound, what harm taketh he thereby? and if thou do well, what is he she better therefore? But what commodity? what reward can he reap at thy hands, who is God omnipotent, so rich and so free, and far from all wrack and woe? that GOD (I say) whose wealth, whose power, whose wisdom can be neither augmented nor diminished: who neither before the constitution of the world, nor after he had made all things, is one jot more or less than he was before: nor if all the angels and all mankind should be saved, and should praise him perpetually, is any whit the worthier: nor if they all were damned and did blaspheme him, is less glorious at all. This so great a lord, not drawn nor driven by any straits at all, but of mere grace and bounty, whilst our acts of hostility were yet in fresh memory, was content to incline the heavens of his royal majesty, and to descend into this Cave of calamities, to  him with the vesture of our mortality, to charge himself with the deep debt of all our sins, and for satisfaction thereof, to endure such torments as were never suffered in this world. For my sake, O Lord, thou wast borne in a stall: for me thou wast laid in a manger: for me thou wast circumcised the eight day: for me thou wast conveyed into Egypt: for me (to conclude) thou wast persecuted and turmoiled with a number of infamies: for me thou watchedst: for me thou travailedst: for me thou sweetest: for me thou didst weep: for me thou hast proved all those evils which my enormous crimes have deserved, thou being innocent and guiltless. Finally, for me thou wast apprehended as a malefactor, abandoned of thy friends, sold, denied, presented before the tribunal seat of those judges, where thou were accused, bufferted, defamed, whipped, spitted at, scratched, condemned, crucified, blasphemed, pierced with a spear, dead and buried. Therefore with what desert of mine, can I acquit myself, I will not say of all these courtesies, but of the least drop of blood shed out of thy holy side, for me unworthy wretch. How is it possible that I should love him sufficiently, who so hath loved me, so hath created me, so hath redeemed me, and hath bought me so dearly? If I be lifted up from the earth (saith our Saviour) all things shall be drawn after me. But with what chains, with what violence?  
With the force of love, and with the bonds of his benefits. With the rope of Adam (saith our Lord) I will draw them unto me, and with the knot of love. Therefore who will not be lifted up with this draft? who will not suffer himself to be catched and carried with such chains? If one little drop of water falling continually upon a stone, will pierce and break it at the last, how shall not the bonds of so many benefits be enough to rend my stony heart a sunder? And if the very earth wrought in the fervent heat, is sometimes converted into fire, how shall my heart be free from burning, being so beset with the glowing coals of such unmeasurable love? if it be so heinous an offence not to love this Lord, what shall it be to offend him, to despise him, and to transgress his commandments? How canst thou have any heart or hand to offend those hands which have been so bountiful unto thee, which for thee were spread upon the cross? When that lascivious woman besought the Patriarch joseph, that he would betray his master, the holy man repelled her with this saying, Behold, O wretched woman, what trust my Lord hath reposed in me, to put all that he hath into my hands, except thee his wife, therefore with what face can I commit this villainy against my Sovereign? Which is as if he had said, If my Lord hath been so friendly affectioned towards me, if he hath committed all that he hath to my custody, if in such wise he hath fancied and honoured me, that in me only it resteth to dispose of his affairs: how may I, being tied with the bonds of so many benefits, have any hands at all to offend a Lord so liberal? And it doth not content him to say, It is no reason to offend him: but, How can I offend him? for the greatness of good turns, do not only restrain the will, but in a manner all power and possibility to annoy the benefactor. And it bindeth fast both the hands and the feet of a man, that he cannot strive against it. Wherefore if these kind of ceremonies, as to be grateful for good turns be of so great force, what shall we think of the benefits of God? That man committed to joseph's fidelity all his business, and God hath put into thy hands all that he hath. Consider then how much God's treasures are more worthy than any that Pharaoh did possess, for that so much more is this which thou enjoyest, than was that which joseph did receive. But tell me what thing hath God, which he hath not given into thy hands? heaven, earth, the sun, the moon, the stars, the sea, birds, fishes, trees, beasts, and finally all that is contained under the golden globe, he hath bestowed upon thee: and yet not that only which is here below in earth, but likewise all that is in the Heavens above, which is the glory, the riches, and the delights of Angels and Saints, which are there praying busily for thy commodity. All things (saith the Apostle) are yours, whether it be Paul, 
Paul.  or Apollo, or Peter, be it the world, be it life, be it death, be it the time present, or that to come, all is yours, for that all serveth for your behoof: and yet not that alone which is above the heavens, but the Lord of heaven himself, hath given us his only son, after sundry sorts, sometimes as a patron, sometimes as a defender, sometimes as a saviour, sometimes for a teacher, sometime for a Physician, sometime for a reward, sometime for a conservation, sometime for a remedy, and for each other our need. The Father hath given us his son, the son hath merited for us the holy Ghost, the holy Ghost hath made us meritorious of GOD the Father himself, from whom floweth the streams of all felicity. Therefore if this father (as the Apostle saith) hath given us his only son, which was the greatest gift he could bestow on us, how will he not deliver unto us with him all other things whatsoever? Therefore if it be true that God hath given unto thee all that he hath, if he hath wrapped thee fast with obligation of so many benefits: how is it possible that thou shouldest molest or grieve so liberal and bountiful a benefactor? If it be a grievous crime, not to be thankful for so good turns: what shall it be to adjoin to ingratitude, the contempt and offence of the benefactor? If that young man found himself in such bondage, and so impotent to annoy him who had committed to his fidelity the charge of his house: what heart or courage canst thou have to offend him, which for thy behoof hath created both heaven & earth? O more ungrateful than the very beast, O more cruel than the Tigers, O more insensible than the senseless creatures, not to consider so great a fall: for what beast, what Lion, what Tiger, did ever hurt the man that did them good?  
Saint Ambrose writeth, that a dog all one night howled and bewailed his master, which was slain by his enemy: whither repairing many the next morning, to view the dead corpses, amongst whom the murderer also made his appearance, whom so soon as the dog beheld, furiously ran upon him, in such wise, that the malefactor was detected thereby. Wherefore if a dog for a piece of bread did show such loyal love to his master: how canst thou become so ungrateful, to suffer thyself in the law of reason and humanity, to be inferior to a dog? If that beast was wroth against him that had slain his master: what wilt not thou be wroth against them that have killed thy Lord and Sovereign? and who are those that have killed him, but only thy offences? these are even they that took him, that bound him, that whipped him, that nailed him to the Cross. For all the torments had not been sufficient for this exploit, had they not been assisted by thine offences. Wherefore then dost thou not wax wood against these so cruel murderers which have bereaved thy Lord of his life. Wherefore, seeing him dead in thy sight, doth not thy affection increase towards him, and thy wrath towards sin, which hath killed him, knowing that whatsoever in this world he hath said, done, or suffered, was to imprint such an hatred in our hearts against sin, that we should detest it utterly. To slay sin he died himself, and to bind it hand and foot, hath suffered himself to be bound upon the cross. Why then wilt thou make frustrate all the labours and pains of Christ? Wilt thou run headlong into the thraldom and bondage from whence Christ hath delivered thee with the ransom of his precious blood? why dost thou not tremble and shiver at the only name and sound of sin, now that thou hast seen the extremities that Christ used in the removing thereof? what could GOD do more to restrain us from sin, then to set himself before us bowed pitifully upon a cross? who durst displease God, if he saw heaven and earth open before him? yet much more it is to see God stretched upon a cross, than all this. Wherefore, whosoever is not stirred with this motive, there is nothing in the wide world, whereby he may be reduced from the fond and perilous journey wherein he is entered.   

The Argument.  
God doth not suffer those to want any thing necessary to this world, which be righteous, and do keep his commandments, but doth comfort them with his graces and gifts infinitely, as well temporal as spiritual, present, as those to come. Whereof the ungodly have exceeding great scarcity, for that noble virtue is evermore associated with all good things, and contrariwise, vice with mischiefs and miseries.  
CHAP. VII.  
BUt peradventure thou wilt say, that all these things before treated of, are right just, as well the good things as the evil yet desirest to see some present motine, which should serve to elevate thy heart, sith the things objected to our daily view, do move us more forcibly. Of these things also we will give thee thy glut, and thou shalt have thy satiety of that thou desirest. For admit our Lord had kept the best wine and meat fill the end of the banquet, yet for all this, he will not that his servants should faints with famine by the way: for he knoweth very well if they should be so scanted, they cannot continue in their journey. Wherefore he said unto Abraham, Fear not, O Abraham, for I am thy defender, and thy reward shall be great. By these words two things are promised, one in this present life (as he was his defender in all things pertaining thereunto) the other in the life to come, which is the guerdon reserved for him. But how great the first promise is, and how many sweet solaces it containeth, no man knoweth, but he that hath read the Scriptures diligently, which inculketh and repeateth nothing more than the singular prerogatives which our Lord hath promised to his servants in this life. Read the holy Psalm of the Prophet, 
Psal 25. Psal. 91. Psal. 18.  Dominus regit me: Read, Qui habitat in adintorio: Regard with thy understanding, Diligam te domine fortitudo mea: read the benedictions and the curses of Deuteronomium: finally, read the new and old Testament, and thou shalt see apparently, what favour and friendship is promised to the just and righteous in this life. Hear the verdict of Solomon in his proverbs upon this matter, Blessed is the man that hath found wisdom, for it availeth more to-possesse that, than all the heaps of gold and silver, be it never so fine and precious: it is of greater price than all the riches of the world: and all that can be wished for, and desired in the heart of man, is nothing comparable thereunto. The length of his days are in his right hand, and in his left, are riches and glory: his ways are fair, and his paths peaceable, and to all them that obtain it, and to every one that with perseverance shall enjoy it, shall be happy. Mark then, my son, the constitutions and counsels of God, for this shall be like and life to thy soul. Then shalt thou take thy journey void of care, and thy feet shall not fail thee: if thou sleep, thou shalt not be affrighted: and if thou betake thee to rest, thou shalt have a quiet repose. This (dear brother) is the solace and quietness that the righteous have in their ways: but consider how much the ways of the wicked differeth from this by the sentence of the Scriptures: unhappiness, and luckless chance is ever in their way, neither know they what it is to tread the steps of peace and tranquillity. And again, Ecclesiastic saith: The path of the unjust is full of lets and obstacles, and at the end of their journey for an harbour is addressed for them, hell, darkness, and pain. Doth it seem now good unto thee to divert from the way of God, to follow the way of the world, being so contrary each to other, not only in the and, but also in the midway, and at every step? Which then is the greater inconvenience, to endeavour through one torment to get another torment, or else with one repose to achieve an other repose? But that thou mayest discern more clearly the manifold benefits which presently do accompany this good thing, be attentive to the promise that GOD himself made to the Prophet Esay, to the observers of his commandments, in these words, according to the intent of divers Interpreters: When thou shalt be (saith he) such and such, as I have willed thee to be, unwares shall come upon thee the dawn of bright day (that is the light of justice) which shall cast out and banish quite the dryerie darkness of thy errors and defaults, and shalt quickly know true health, and the equity of thy well doings shall stand before thee as a burning lamp, and the glory of our Lord, shall environ thee on every side, that thou mayest be honoured in the sight of God, and men. Then shalt thou call upon the name of our Lord, and he will hear thee, because thou lovedst him, and shall say unto thee, behold me here priest to accomplish whatsoever thou canst ask. Then in the midst and deep darkness of the tribulation and distress of this life, the comfortable beams of divine favour shall shine upon thee, and thy tribulation shall be as the midst of the day, for that our Lord had ordained, that thy miseries themselves, and thy transgressions passed, should accumulat unto thee greater felicity, presenting always to thy mind assured peace, and firm tranquillity. And in the time of scarcity and famine, he shall feed thee full, and shall supply thy wants abundantly, and thy bones shall be delivered from death, and from the flames of eternal fire, and thou shalt be like unto a moist garden, and as a fountain which runneth incessantly: and in thee, that shall be accomplished which many years hath been unfinished, to the end thou mayest stand upon a sure foundation, from generation to generation, and if thou wilt endeavour to celebrate my festival days, not contriving them in foolish delights, nor in preferring thy will before mine, observing carefully my will and behest in this voyage: then will I create thee a Lord, and will give thee such solaces as shall far surpass all pleasures of the world. And I will exalt thee above the highest turrets of the earth, to a most blessed state of life, whereunto neither fortune nor humane nature can add or detract aught at all. And after all this, I will enstal thee into the precious inheritance that I promised to jacob thy father, which is the benediction of glory, because the mouth of God hath spoken it. These are the rewards which God promised to his servants, of which although some are yet to come, notwithstanding many of them pertain to this present life. As is that new light and heavenly brightness, that abundance of all things, that assured trust in GOD, that divine assistance to all petitions and demands, that peace and security of conscience, that divine providence and protection, that flourishing Garden (which is the deo king and garnishment of grace) the fountain which floweth continually, which is the great plenty of all things, those supernal joys which exceed the capacity of man, that lifting up of the spirit which cannot be augmented by assistance of human nature.  
These favours and prerogatives promised by God, are all the works of his mercy, the influence of his grace, the testimonies of his love, the effect of the fatherly providence he extendeth to his servants. Upon every one of these I could say much more than the brevity of this volume will permit, for that every of them would ask a several Treatise. Wherefore the just shall rejoice of all these good things, both in this life, and in the life to come, whereof the unjust shall be utterly destitute. By which means, mark what odds is betwixt the one part and the other, now that these are so favoured from heaven, and those in such distress and penury, for if thou consider advisedly all things before treated of, & dost weigh the estate and condition both of the just and unjust, thou shalt find that the lot of the righteous is in the favour of God, but that of the ungodly in utter disgrace: 
The estate of the good and of the evil.  these are his friends, the other his professed foes: these enjoy the light, the other dwell in darkness: these participate in delight with Angels, those with dreary swine: these are free indeed, and masters of themselves, those other the thralls and vassals of Satan: these live in unity, those other in deadly discord: the trust and testimony of a false conscience, delighteth these, and to the other minds, resorteth always the guilt of their filthy facts: these with a resolute mind abide the brunt of tribulation in their accustomed place, those other, as light chaff are repelled by the wind: these depend upon the anchor of hope, those other have no stay to lean unto, being objected to every chance and change of fickle fortune: the prayers of these are acceptable to the ears of the Lord, the other petitions are odious and execrable. The death of these is quiet and glorious with divine honour, and that of the others troublesome, defamed, fraught with a thousand fears. Finally, these live as children under the guard and government of God, they sleep securely under the wings and shadow of his providence: but the others excluded from this divine protection, wander too and fro as scattered beasts without head or guide, thrust out to apparent perils and alaroms of fortune. Then if such and so excellent perfections do accompany virtue, what restraint can there be, why thou shouldest not embrace so sovereign a thing? what canst thou allege for thy excuse herein? To wrangle and say, this is not true, cannot extenuate thy guilt, seeing thou seest how it is founded upon the infallible word of God, and testimonies of the scripture. To say these perfections are of small price, availeth not, for that (as I have before mentioned) they exceed all that man's heart can wish for. To allege that thou art thine own enemy herein, and that thou dost not desire these good things, is most untrue: for a man is by nature a friend to himself, and humane will hath felicity for his subject, which is the end of his desires. To affirm that thou hast no sense nor taste hereof, sufficeth not to acquit thy crime, considering thou believest them to be true, although thou canst not taste them. Original sin bereaved thee of thy taste herein, but not of thy faith, and faith is a testimony more sure, more secure, and more doubtless, than all other experiences, witnesses, and warrants of the world. Wherefore then dost thou not prefer this testimony before all the other allegations? Why dost thou not attribute more to faith, then to thine own sottish seeming and judgement? O that thou wouldst determinately commit thyself into the hands and arms of God, and trust to him only, how suddenly shouldest thou perceive in thyself the accomplishment of these prophecies, shouldest soon see the greatness of these treasures, shouldest see how senseless and blind all worldlings are, which do neither feel nor fancy this felicity, and shouldest see with how just reason God commanded us this kind of life, saying, Come unto me all ye that are laden and weary, and I will ease your grief. Receive my yoke upon you, and then ye shall find comfort in your souls, for it is full sweet and delectable. God is no deceiver, his promises are neither false nor fraudulent. Which sith it is so indeed, why dost thou flee or faint? why dost thou abandon peace and pleasure? Wherefore despisest thou the allurements and sweet sounds of thy Pastor? How darest thou to chase virtue from thee, having such a gallant superscription, as here thou seest graven by the hand of God? It was much less than this, that Queen Sabba had heard of Solomon, and yet she came from the uttermost parts of the earth, to try whether those things were true which were reported unto her. Wherefore then hearing such and so certain tidings of virtue, dost thou not betake thee to a little travel? If thou wilt be assured hereof, grant thyself unto the word of God, and confidently commit thyself into his hands, lose thyself from the hands which hath wrapped and won thee, and thou shalt see that the same of virtue is less than her merit, and that whatsoever we have said is nothing, in comparison of that she is in her proper effect.   

The Argument.  
To persevere in sin, with a thousand excuses and delays; intending to amend his life hereafter, deceiveth a Christian marvelously. For by this means he blindeth and burieth himself in the dirty dunghill of vice, and waxeth daily more prone thereunto, in such wise, that iniquity taking deep root in the entrails of his mind, it will very hardly be removed.  
CHAP. VIII.  
NOtwithstanding all these assertions whereby the condition of virtue is justified sufficiently, the wicked will never want their wont excuses and delays: for as it is written, He that will shake off his friend, searcheth for a cause of quarrel, but in so doing, he meriteth a grievous reprehension and controlment. Yet some there be which with one only word will easily reply to all this, saying, It sufficeth them to amend hereafter, and then to reduce the course of their life to a better order: foolishly feigning to themselves, that it is too hard a matter presently for them so to do, and that in time to come, they may attempt & achieve this thing with more facility: 
How fond man deceiveth himself.  which is one of the grossest errors wherewith a man may delude himself. For if thou mindest so long to proceed and persevere in that perilous path wherein thou art entered, still augmenting the heap of thine iniquities, how canst thou so easily hereafter forsake it at thy pleasure, thy naughty conditions being grown by continual custom into an habit? Further, if thou continue herein, evil custom shall be more fortified and confirmed, and nature shall be corrupted the more, and the devil shall prevail and have more power upon thee, and shalt be still farther from the favour of GOD, and consequently more blind, more inclined and plunged deeper in the stinking puddle of iniquity. Then how can it be more easy for thee to perform this business, being increased with these new difficulties, by reason of thy perseverance in sin. If every time that thou dost offend, thou leavest behind th●● a days journey of thy voyage towards virtue: how canst thou more readily frame thyself thereunto hereafter, having let slip so many days journey, as thou hast committed offences? It may well appear, that by this answer thou art instructed by the father of lies and falsehood, that after thou hast so long enured thyself to vice and folly, and haste runned a race so far from the trade of virtue, shall then be most easy for thee to attain thereunto. But among these things, what shall I say of the great power of custom, and of the force she hath to bind and wrap thee fast in wickedness? For true it is, that as they which fasten a nail in any thing, with every stroke they drive it further in, and yet with other strokes further, and so the more still they strike, the more they fasten it, and waxeth thereby the more hard to pull out again: In like manner, by each evil fact we commit, vice, as it were with a beetle, is more deeply rammed into our mind, where it is fixed so fast, that there can very hardly be found any force able to remove it. Whereby we see not seldom, that the old age of those who in their flourishing years were wholly given to carnality, is often subject to the dissolute manners of their youth, yea although they then abhor them, and nature thereof disclaimeth utterly: which only cometh to pass through the tyranny of evil custom. For it is affirmed by job, that the bones of the wicked, shall be full of those vices that they used in their youth, which shall accompany them in their graves, in such sort, the vice hath no other end then death, which is the dissolution and extinguishment of all mortal things, which only sufficeth to redress and cure it. And the cause hereof, is custom confirmed, which now is grown to nature. For vicious appetites, taking such root in the bones and bowels of their souls, is even like unto a joint ague, which having settled itself in the entrails of a man. is become incurable. The very same thing is showed by our Saviour in the resurrection of Lazarus, which had lain dead now four days, whom GOD called again to life with such vehement shrieks and cries: notwithstanding he raised many from death before, with such falicitie, thereby to make it known unto us, what a wonder it was that God raised him again, who four days had been dead and buried.  
This long since, is espied to be in sin. For (as Saint Augustine openeth this place) of these four days, the first is the delight we have in sin: the second is, the consent of mind: the third, the accomplishment in deed: the fourth, the perseverance in sin: and he that is come to this point, is Lazarus lying dead four days, who cannot be received but with the loud lamentations and tears of our Saviour. If peradventure this chance unto thee (which very seldom happeneth to any) tell me what law canst thou allege for thy lewdness, that God before all world's having loved and created thee, to invest thee with the glory of eternal felicity, wilt not consume in the service of him, who hath been thy benefactor and friend so long, in this short & brickle life that thou enjoyest.   

The Argument.  
Repentance ought not to be deferred to the end of life, for them God doth seldom grant them his grace to die well. For he that hath lead a lewd life, hath commonly a worse death: and so findeth a righteous recompense for his unjust deserts.  
CHAP. IX.  
But some there be so blind & shameless, that it sufficeth them not to have sinned all their life passed, but they resolve with themselves wilfully to wallow therein, until they sensibly feel themselves assisted with the very summons of death. O dreadful time, full of perplexity, what thinkest thou with this price to purchase the Kingdom of Heaven, and to merit the society and seat of Angels? Dost thou not see, that whatsoever is done at this time, is necessity, and not will: is forced, and not free: is constraint, and not consent: is fear, and not friendship: yet it is love, not the love of God, but self love, which shuneth naturally his own annoy? Dost thou not perceive, that these things are mere opposite to the rule of equity, that thou having dedicated the whole term of thy life to devotion of the devil, wilt in the end require to be rewarded of God? Dost thou not behold herein, even that which the five foolish Virgins did prepare, whereof the Evangelist showeth, that they were making them ready, when they should have given up their accounts? Therefore, how canst thou expect any better success, than thou art admonished by this example, continuing in the self-same carefulness? God is mighty, and can inspire upon us true repentance when he list: but how often it happeneth at this hour, and how few they be, which then repent heartily, ask S. Augustine, S. Ambrose, S. Gregory, and all other Saints, and thou shalt see how precisely and scrupulously they speak in this matter, and thou shalt well perceive what a madness it is, so confidently to commit thyself to the mercy of a gulf, whereunto so many skilful Pilots did pass, with such great horror and fear. To die well, is a knowledge which ought to be learned all the life before, for in the hour of death, the diseased is cumbered with so many cares and griefs, that he hath no leisure to learn to die well. It is a general rule, that as the life is of every man, such is his daath. 
The death of the wicked is conformable to their life.  Whereby it followeth, that if the life be mischéenous, the death is miserable, except God for some special purpose doth dispose it otherwise. These be not my words, but the Apostles sayings: The end of the ungodly, shall be like unto their deserts. For speaking generally, neither do we look for a good event of wicked beginnings, nor of good attempts, evil haps. Read over the whole Bible, and thou shalt not hear any thing repeated so oft as this: What seed a man soweth, such crop shall he gather: and that in the extremity of death, the unjust shall reap the fruit of their travels: and that God will impart to every man according to his merits: and that the death of every man, shall be conformable to the life he hath lead: and that the justice of the righteous man, shall be upon his head, and the curse of the ●●godly upon his head, likewise with a thousand such like sentences. If all the divine scriptures might be powered out, to see what would issue thereof, scarce any thing would appear more often to our view then this.  
Wherefore if thy works be wicked, and thy life likewise, what other thing can we prognosticate thereof, but that the end will succeed as the beginning and middle hath been? What thing else shall we think him to gather in the other life, but corruption, who in this life hath sown nothing else but corruption? Peradventure as our Saviour saith, We may gather roses of thorns, figs of furse-bushes, etc. If the house of the wicked, as Solomon saith, declineth towards death, and his foot path leadeth directly to hell, what other port can be expected after this navigation, but even such an end as where the wall or tree shall fall, which bendeth to one side, but in that part whither it howeth most. For he whose life, whose doings, whose thoughts hath been their only regard to hell, (for that they have all deserved it) where shall he settle himself after all this, but even there right? where shall he have his habitation, if not in outward darkness, which always walked in inward darkness? how wouldst thou bring to pass, that in the end of his journey he should arrive in heaven, which hath always pursued the beaten path that lieth strait to hell?   

The Argument.  
We ought not to abuse the mercy of God, persevering in sin, upon confidence thereof. For if God's mercy can suffer so many Infidels in the world, and in the Church so many wicked Christians, and that all those should be cast away quite: he will also suffer that every one which still remaineth in sin, shall perish eternally.  
CHAP. X.  
ANd if on the other side thou say, that great is the mercy of God, which doth embolden thee in such that continuing in thy naughty life, are yet assured of thy salvation. But tell me, how canst thou offer greater injury to the mercy of God, then of his benevolence to take occasion to displease him? Who taught thee to argue in this sort, that because God is good and gracious, show shouldest have leave to be ungracious, and to merit heaven thereby? The holy Ghost never taught thee this kind of reasoning, but rather in this fashion, That God being so good, aught to be honoured, obeyed, & embraced, above all other things: wherefore sith God is pitiful, it is good reason, that in him I should repose my whole trust and confidence that he will pardon my treipasses, be they never so heinous, so that I detest them utterly, turning myself unto him with a sincere heart. But proceeding always in sin, believe it well, he will not abeare it, yea, he will condemn thee and hate thee the more, whom he suffereth so long. Thou canst not gainsay me, that of an hundredth parts of the world, there is scarce one repleated with Christians, and that of ninety and nine which abide in the world, none are saved. For as in the time of that great flood, none was saved out of the Ark of Noah, nor out of the house of Rub, none escaped of those which dwelled in Jerusalem: so none can be saved out of the house of God, which it his church, even that which we call Christianity. Behold in what pickle and perplexity it standeth in these days, and thou shalt find for certain, that in this whole mystical body from top to toe, is scarce any thing entire and sound. Set apart some principal City where discipline taketh place, and range abroad through all Towns and other places, where (as I said) is no talk of discipline, and thou shalt find much people, of whom may be verified that which GOD said touching Jerusalem: Search all the streets and houses of Jerusalem, and if thou shalt find one just man, for his sake I will have compassion upon the City. Range abroad (I say not now through Inns and Markets, for that these an● places dedicated to deceit) but through the best Citizens houses. As jeremy saith, Listen thy ears to that they speak, and thou shalt hardly hear ou● good word, but bitter backbitings and murmur shall fill thy ears. Their disorder, their oaths, their blasphemy, laughter, discord, threats, and of all sides, both heart and tongues, debate of earthly dross and gain, but very sodom of God and good things, but altogether in swearing and forswearing his holy name, which is the memory he hath left unto us. The same Prophet saying, Let them be mindful of me, but not in swearing falsely by my name, i● such sort, that by the external show, a man can scarce conjecture whether that nation be Christian or Heathen, except it be by the sound of bells, and ruthful rage of swearing & forswearing, which ringeth round about, wherein they ●●céede all Infidels. Then how can the● be united to the number of those 〈◊〉 whom Esay speaketh in this wise, All they that behold this people, shall quickly know them to be the plants to whom God gave his benediction. Wherefore if such aught to be the life of a Christian, that all they which behold him, may soon judge him so be the son of God, in what sort shall we deem of those which seem rather scoffers and contemners of Christ, than Christians indeed? If this than be the life of these, what hope can we have of their salvation, according to the general rule we have set down before? All this is spoken, that thou mayest perceive, if God, notwithstanding his so great mercy that thou allegest, suffereth so many Infidels in the world, and so many evil Christians in the church, and if all these Infidels do perish, and so many Christians too, he will also be contented that thou shalt perish with them, if thy life be conformable to theirs. But peradventure the heavens were favourable to thy birth, and therewith all the commandments of God were altered, and the law of his Gospel and of his justice, that for thy sake should me made an innovation of all things. With this pity he suffered the fall of Angels, and the transgression of our first Parents, and with them the blot of humane generation, and destruction of the whole world, with the great flood, and the dreadful desolation of Jerusalem, of Babylon, of Niniveh, and of many other noble Cities and Provinces.  
And with this, he suffered also that hell should be enlarged, and that daily so many millions of souls should tumble thither: And will he not suffer likewise that thine shall pass the same way, living as disorderly as they did before thee? But thou mayest object, that then God was rigorous, and is become now more mild and courteous, and yet with this pity & clemensie, he hath suffered all that thou hast heard, to the end that thou shouldest likewise fear thy fall, although thou be a Christian, whilst thou art wicked. Sith it is certain, that fruitless faith is not the instrument of salvation, but the chiefest matter of aggravate damnation. Perchance God's glory shall be lessened if thou enter not therein, Or art thou of such power, that God standeth in need of thee, and must hear with thee perforce? Or hast thou any bill of his hand, whereby he is hound to bestow upon thee such passing privileges? If the children of David which were privileged by the merit of their parents, God did not spare to punish them according to their deserts, for that they offended grievously in his sight, so that many of them died miserably in his disgrace: whence hast thou this confidence so to assure thyself of thy safety? Thou dost ere, dear brother, yea thou offendest, if thou take this to be trust & hope in God: this is not hope, but plain presumption: for that which we call hope, is, to believe that a man repenting & forsaking sin, God will forgive him all his grievous crimes: but thine is presumption, if thou believest, that persisting still in wickedness, shalt not fail of thy salvation.   

The Argument.  
To say that the love of the world is the cause of sin, is a vain excuse, proceeding from a corrupt and carnal Christian, who hath no taste nor sent of supernal bliss. Wherefore he abjecteth those which are true and sincere, and searcheth busily after false, frail, & momentall pleasures, which presently he perceiveth not. Then should he know the deceit and danger of them, and how perfect good are the spiritual delights.  
CHAP. XI.  
BUt perhaps thou wilt say, that the love of the world hath thy heart and hands fast hardle with the fetters of her slourishing vanities, and that she it is that maketh thee to decline from thy well attempted voyage. This is the excuse of one that hath not tasted of the spiritual delights, and therefore desireth corporal comfort. The country clown deemeth that there is no braver Palace any where, than his rude Cottage at home, for that he never saw the lo●●e furress and curious workmanship of Castles and Cities. The little babe woefully weepeth being descended from his mother's womb, because he is ignorant yet how much this world is better whither he cometh to dwell, than the prison where he was penned before. Our first parents made great reckonings of their villages and houses made with straw, before they espied the brave buildings framed with timber & stone. To whom we may well resemble all sensual men, who having yet no taste of spiritual spices, nor proved their sap, their sweetness, their beauty, dignity, and nobility, covet more greedily the shadows and shows of happiness, because they know not any part of perfelt felicity indeed. For if they had any true knowledge hereof, it were impossible but that they should utterly despise all sensual solace. According to this saying of the Prophet Esay, In that day thou shalt detest all silver and gold, and the idols which erst thou didst adore, even as dirty rags of no reputation, and shalt say unto them, when thou art cleansed: Depart from me, get you out of my house, in such sort, as men contemn their false gods, after they know the omnipotent God: So will they reject the vanities of the world, so soon as they have a smack of the true celestial bliss. For (as Saint Bernard saith) at the first taste of spiritual comfort, all flesh from whence issueth each earthly delight, loseth his scent. For this is that Siren song, that dream of Sirces', which hath bewitched so many foretches. But in opening this deceit, mother fraud that lurked erst, appeareth in sight, which is, that they are not only ignorant of the spiritual bliss, but also of the temporal joys themselves, for if they knew them thoroughly, it is not possible that they should like them so well as they do. For tell me, what is the world and all the jollity thereof, (if with in corrupt eyes ye rightly regard it, his guise, his beginning and progress) what is this world I say, other than a heap of woe, a school of vanity, a market of deceit, a bottomless pit of errors, a prison of darkness, always infested with thieves, a dirty dunghill, a sea of stormy troubles? This world (as the Philosopher said) is a barren land, a stormy field, a wood of thorns, a green meadow, full of serpents, a gallant garden, but fruitless utterly, a fountain of vain thoughts, a pleasant poison, a fable finely framed, a delighting frenzy: what good things are therein, which be not altogether false and frail, and what evil things are incident to it, which be not tried to be true? his purpose is restless, his security without safety, his pains to no purpose, his tears availeth not, his intent without event, his hope frustrate, his mirth fattened and forced: his dolours to be true, is order full of disorder and confusion. So that dear brother, take it for unfeigned verity, that the quiet and contentment which thou expectest, cannot be had in this world, but to be rich in the favour of God, but in contemning thereof, and in esteeming less of earthly things than they be indeed. Go round about the sea and land, wander whither thou wilt (as saith S. Augustine) & thou shalt find wretchedness every where, if thou walk not in the way of the Lord, in whom consisteth all felicity and contentment.   

The Argument.  
The way of God is now nothing difficult, nor austere at all, but is become very plain and easy, by the instruction and ensample of Christ, but especially by his passion, his resurrection, and ascension, and after by his sending down of the holy Ghost.  
CHAP. XII.  
OTher there be which excuse themselves, saying: The way of God is very hard, and this is only because his precepts are repugnant to the inclination of man's appetites. This is one of the principal causes that maketh men to loath this labour, but the authors of such allegations, though they be Christians, and live under the law of grace, they know not yet the first letter that standeth in the Alphabet of this law, nor have any smack of this mystery. O thou unhappy wretch which makest profession to be a Christian, tell me I beseech thee, wherefore came Christ into the world? wherefore did he shed his blood? why did he institute so many sacraments? why sent he the holy Ghost? what is meant by the Gospel, by grace, by this word jesus? what doth this renowned name of Lord and Saviour signify which thou woorshippest? If thou knowest not, ask of the Evangelist, who saith: His name shall be jesus, for it shall be he that shall save his people from their sin. But what is it to be a saviour and deliverer from sin, if by him we do not merit pardon for our offences passed, and grace to excuse those that are to come? For what cause came Christ into the world, if not to help us to salvation? Wherefore died he upon the Cross, if not to slay sin? why did he rise again after his death, if not to revive us? Likewise, wherefore spent he his blood, if not for a medicine able to heal thy festered wounds? wherefore ordained he so many Sacraments, if not for a special remedy against sin? what is she chiefest fruit of his coming and possion, if not to show us thereby the way to Heaven, which before was austere and difficult? 
Esai. 40.  As appeareth by Esaias, where he saith? At the coming of Mossias, the crooked ways shall become strait, and the bitter passages pleasant, large, and wide. Besides all this, why did he send his holy Ghost, if not of flesh to make thee spiritual? and wherefore did he send it in the form of fire, if not to the end thou shouldest be inflamed as fire, illuminated, fortified, and transformed into himself, and should draw thee to heaven, whence he descended, that he might power upon thee the grace and virtue that floweth from him abundantly, thereby to lighten the heavy yoke of sin, & to mitigate the exercise of virtue, by rejoicing in adversity, by hope in perils, and by overcoming in temptations. This is the beginning, the middle, and end of the Gospel, that as one carnal man and a sinner (which was Adam) made us all earthly and sinners: so an other man being celestial and just (descending from Heaven) made us all celestial and just. What other thing did the Evangelists writ of? What other promises did the Prophet forespeak of? what else did the Apostles preach of? There is no other divinity but this: this is the word abbreviated: this God wrote upon the earth: this is the consummation and abridgement heard by the Prophet Esay, which was verified by the sequel of the great abundance of virtue and justice, which came into the world immediately after.  
Then (dear brother) behave thyself, as though thou wert newly converted to christianity, and ask of some skilful Divine, what thou art charged to do by this thy Religion: of whom thou shalt receive no other answer, then that it behoveth thee to be a good man: which to accomplish, this profession giveth thee comfort and courage, and causeth the carnal man to become spiritual, giving unto him the holy Ghost, the better thereby to proceed in the promises. Surely it is a great oversight, that thou bearing the name of a Christian so many years, knowest not yet what difference is between the written law and the law of grace.  
In this then consisteth the difference (sith thou knowest it not) that law enjoined a man to be just, not furnishing him with forces necessary for that exploit, but this also chargeth us to be just and good, giving grace and ability to accomplish this commandment: therefore for this cause and no other, it is termed, the law of grace. That pressed us to battle, without weapons to fight: willed us to ascend to Heaven, but gave us no ladders to climb: prescribed to men that they should be spiritual, yet did it not inspire them with the holy Ghost that they might be spiritual. But now it is otherwise, for this law ceasing, the other succeeded, which far exceeded it, by his merits, and by the sacred blood of Christ. And yet as though the old law were not extinguished, nor Christ come into the world, thou standest jewishly conjecturing, that of thyself thou art sufficient to fulfil and execute this law, and so to be justified. Wherefore every one that understandeth this, shall perceive apparently that many Authors agree, that this way of the Lord is both sweet and sour. 
Psal. 18.  For love of the words issuing out of thy mouth, saith the Prophet, I trudge a journey hard and unsavoury. I am delighted with thy Commandments, as with the greatest treasures. For this way containeth in itself both parts, that is, it is difficult and easy: difficult in respect of nature, easy in respect of virtue and grace: in such sort, that which was hard by one reason, is light by another. As our Saviour showeth when he said, That his yoke was easy, and his burden pleasant: for a yoke and burden is all even in signification. But to say it was sweet, declareth the facility he had in bearing it here, through the grace which was given unto him: So that if thou demandest, how it is possible that being a yoke it should be easy, seeing it is the property of a yoke to be heavy and hateful? Whereunto it may be answered, that God doth qualify the grief of those that willingly submit themselves to the said yoke, as he hath promised by the Prophet Esay, saying, I will be as he which looseth the yoke, and as he that unloadeth a man's neck from the weight thereof. What thing is more worthy of admiration, than this, that a yoke is easy, and that by God it is made portable, for that himself supporteth the burden? Wherefore then doth it seem a thing incredible unto thee, that this burden should be pleasant, seeing God doth help to sustain it? But wilt thou see both these contrarieties to concur in one person? Heart what Saint Paul saith, 
Rom. 5.  We suffer adversity in sundry sorts, yet are we not impatient: we live in extreme penury, nor for this are we overcomed: we abide persecutions, yet are we not destitute: we are humbled, yet not confounded: oppressed even to the earth, yet not rejected utterly. Now regard on the one side the loathsome load of labours, and on the other side, the delight that is therein by the benefit of grace, 
Esay 40.  which yet the Prophet Esay showeth more manifestly, saying, They which trust in the Lord shall change their strength, shall ruime swiftly without sweeting, shall go still and never be weary. See here the yoke made easy by the virtue of grace. Behold the fury of the flesh abated and converted to the force of the spirit, or to term it more rightly, the might of men turned into strength of God. Hear how the Prophet did not restrain himself neither from labour, nor from rest, nor from the commodity he got of the one and other, where he said, They ran, and it grieveth them not, they went forth still and were never weary.  
Wherefore well-beloved brother, thou oughtest not to divert from this way, though it seem somewhat hard and sour, sith God and his grace are thy guides therein. For it is no reason that nature should more prevail then grace, nor Adam to be of more power than Christ, nor the devil to be greater than God: nor yet the custom and long use of evil, than the habit of virtue and well doings.   

The Argument.  
A man should not prognosticate his conversion to God, nor his repentance and aversion from those offences, whereby he hath displeased the divine majesty of God, and his neighbour: for the more he is spotted and infected with the filth of vice, and the slower he is in cleansing and curing thereof, so much the more he doth aggravate the burden of his penance.  
CHAP. XIII.  
WHerefore if the causes be so many, and so great, which of the one part doth move thee to change the course of thy life to a better race, and on the other side, have no sufficient excuse to withhold thee from so doing: Tell me, I pray thee, when wilt thou be ready to revolt from sin? Turn back thy eye, brother, a little, towards the life that is passed, and consider of what years thou art now: for now is the time, for the hour of entrance is passed, and the beginning to unload thyself from thy former faults. Behold that thou being a Christian, regenerate with the water of holy baptism, having God for thy father, and the Church for thy mother, which God form and framed with the law of his Gospel, and with the doctrine of the Apostles and Evangelists, and (that more importeth) with the food of Angels, and yet thou livest so loosely as thou were an Infidel altogether, and never knewest God. But tell me, what sort of sin, what folly can be found, wherein thou art not culpable? what forbidden tree is there, wherein thou hast not fixed thy eyes? what green meadow, where at least in thought thou hast not glutted thy lascivious lust? what pleasant accident hath been objected to thy sight, whereunto thy desire hath not been extended? What appetite of thine haste thou not assayed to accomplish? Calling God to thy mind, and how thou art a Christian, what more couldst thou do, then to have a faith without expectation of the other life, and fear of future judgement? What hath thy life been else then a web of wickedness, a sink of sin, a path of pleasure, a perpetual disobedience to God? How hast thou led thy life hitherto, but as thy appetites hath guided thee, as best fancied thy flesh, in exalting thyself, and in the glory of the world? These have been thy Gods, these the Idols whereunto thou haste kneeled and crouched, whose hests thou haste fully performed. But in them mean time, what account hast thou kept with the divine law of God, and thy allegiance due unto him? Perchance thou hast esteemed him no more than if he had been a God made of wood, for many Christians there be, which will as easily believe that there is no God, as they think to offend him scotfree. For they do no less believing the one, than they would if they believed the other. What greater wrong, what greater despite may there be, to so great a Prince, than thou believing all that the Christian religion instructeth thee, livest no otherwise then if it were a fable? But art thou not appalled at the multitude of thy former offences, done without grudge of conscience? Doth not his omnipotency cause thee to quake, against whom thou haste committed such enormous crimes? Lift up thy eyes, and regard the immeasurable greatness of that supernal Lord, adored of all the Potentates of Heaven, before whom the whole circuit of the world lieth prostrate, in whose presence, all that is created is as light chaff tossed with every puff of wind. And consider what a thing it is, that such a silly worm as thou art, hast so oft pronoked the wrath of that eternal God. Look upon the exceeding greatness of his justice, and the sharp punishments which hitherto he hath used in the world against sin, not only in particular persons, but in Cities, Nations, Kingdoms, Provinces, and in the universal world: and not only in the earth, but in heaven, and there not in sinners only, but in his own innocent son. Then if this were executed upon green wood, and for the faults of others, what shall be done in withered wood overcharged with the weight of proper offences.  
Wherefore what can be more undecent and intolerable, then that such a vile vermin should delude a Lord so puissant, that with a beck or a word can detrude thee into the depth of hell and damnation. Look in like sort upon the patience of this Lord, who now so long hath looked for thy return, as thou hast been an offender. If after so long sufferance, thou wilt still abuse this merde in incensing him to anger, he will unload his bow, will empty his quiver, and power upon thee the darts of damnation. View the profoundness of his deep judgements, whereof we read and see daily things worthy to be wondered at. We may see a Solomon after all his wisdom, his parables and profound mysteries of the Cantickles, to forget God, and to fall down in reverence of Idols. We may see one of the first seven Deacons of the Church, which were inspired with the holy ghost, not only became an heretic, but also a teacher, and a father of heresy. We may see day by day many stars to fall from Heaven into the earth, with a miserable fall, to tumble in dirt, and to be fed with the draff of swine, which erst at the table of our Lord, were sustained with the bread of Angels. Therefore if the righteous for their secret pride, or negligence and ingratitude, became so vnmi●d full of God, after they had been his dutiful Servants so many years: What dost thou look for, having framed thy life to no other trade then to accumulate one sin upon an other? Therefore, whosocuer we see to live in this sort (as we have told of before) shall it not be expedient, that he should now at the length, cease to fill up the measure of his iniquities, and to assay to please God, and to deliver his soul from bondage? should it not suffice him, that he hath lived so leaudlie till this hour, addicting himself wholly to the world, the flesh, and the devil, and hereafter to employ himself, and to run out the remnant of his race, 〈◊〉 the homage and honour of God? is it not needful after so long time, and so many injuries committed against his Divine Majesty, to fear his severe justice, which the more patiently it beareth with the wicked, so much the more rigorously is revenged upon them in the end? shall it not be reason that he should be afraid to lie so long swallowed up in the gulf of sin, deprived of the grace of God, and to have so strong an enemy as is he, who of a dear father, through his deserts is become his adnersarie and his judge? Shall it not be reason, to dread, lest the force of long use be turned into nature and habit, making of vice necessity? How should he not fear by little and little to fall into a reprobate sense: whereunto when a man is come, he doth not any thing that is acceptable in the sight of almighty God? The Patriarch jacob said to his father in law Labin, Fourteen years are passed since I have screwed thee, and have had charge of thy business, and now it is time that I attend upon mine own affairs, and that I begin to provide for mine own house.  
Wherefore I pray thee, sith thou hast been so long, not a retainer, but a daily waiter to the world, not letting slip any opportunity of this life, which was either appendent to thy pleasures, or agreeing to thy appetites: shall it not to be reasonable for thee now at the length, to get some commodity for the soul, and for the bertering of thy estate, in the other life? certainly there is nothing more short and unsure, than the life of man. Why then thou providing so carefully all necessaries for that which is so momentall and transitory, dost not likewise make some provision for that which endureth for ever?   

The Argument.  
A man ought to remember himself, and that he is a Christian, and that he believe firmly all that he is taught by his faith, which should move him either through love or fear. All things invite him to the love and service of God, among which he should acquire wisdom, and hearken to the words of Christ, who fixed himself to the cross for our redemption.  
CHAP. XIIII.  
NOw therefore if it be true as I have said, I beseech thee dear brother, and charge thee by the precious blood of Christ, that thou remember thyself that thou art a Christian, and that thou take all that which our faith teacheth for unfeigned verity, which plainly proveth unto thee, that besides other things thou hast a judge, to whose eye lieth open all the actions and moments of thy life, who will come at a day unwares, wherein he will exact an account of thee, even of every idle word. This faith telleth she farther, that a man at his death, is not quite extinguished, because after this mortal life, succeedeth an other, which lasteth eternally: and shalt men's fowls do not perish with their bodies, but that the bodies resting, and raked up in their graves, the souls yet enter into a new Kingdom, and into an other new world, where such condition and company shall be assigned unto them as their manner and behaviour hath been in this life. Here unto this faith adjoineth yet more, that as the reward of virtue, so the scourge of vice is so infinite, that although the whole world were full of books, and every creature were a Scrivener, the writers would sooner die, and the world be at an end, before it could be known and treated of particularly, that which each of these doth contain in itself. This faith also informeth thee, that our debt and duty is so great, through our benefits received of God, that though the number of a man's years did surpass the sands of the seas, yet they should be too few to acquit himself in his service towards him. The same faith affirmeth, that virtue is of such passing valour, that all the treasures of the world, and all that a man's heart can desire, may in no respect be compared thereunto. Wherefore if such and so great things do exhort us to virtue, why be there so few which embrace it, and endeavour themselves to attain it? If men may be moved with any advantage or interest, what greater gain is there? what life more perdurable? If with fear, what sharper punishments? what paint more permanent? If with the bonds of bounteous liberality, what greater debt have we then that which we own unto God, of whom we have received all things? If the dread of dangers may stir us, what greater peril can there be then that of death, whose coming is so uncertain, whose account so strait? If peace, if liberty, if the gifts of the holy Ghost, and the solace of a sugared life, be desired of all men, it appeareth evidently, that all these things are found more readily in that life which is lead by virtue and reason, then in that which is ruled by rage and passions, for that a man is a reasonable creature, and not a beast. But if all this be not regarded, shall it not be sufficient, that for the maintenance of verive, GOD descended from Heaven to the earth, and was made man, (who having created the world in six days) employed thirty and three years in this work, wherein he also spent his blood and life. God died to slay sin, yet for all this, we endeavour to revive in our hearts those whom God would destroy with his own death.  
What should I say more? for all reasons are sufficient to promote this matter, or to show it as it is. Foyes, I say, not respecting the cross only, but which way soever we turn our eyes, we shall find, that all things do cry and call us to this commodity, sith there is no creature in the world (if he be well noted) but doth invite us to the love and service of our supernal Lord: in such sort, that look how many creatures there be in the world, so many preachers there are, so many books, so many voices, which do stir us thereunto. Wherefore, how is it possible that so many shrieking sounds as here thou hearest, so many promises & thundering threats, can bear no part to persuade thee thereunto? What should God, or could he do more than that he hath done, either by promising or threatening, to draw us to himself, and to withdraw and terrify us from sin? This notwithstanding, being of such weight, what shall I blame the boldness or bluntishnesse of men, which believing this assuredly, doubt not to dally out the day in sin, to sleep with sin, to arise with sin, and to bathe themselves in the beastly puddle of all iniquities: and to do all this without fear, without scruple, without abridging their sleep, or abating their fare, as though all their belief were a dream, and the sayings of the Evangelists, fables of Titius the Giant, and such like? How couldst thou do more than thou dost, if thou didst doubt of thy belief? sith it is evident, that hitherto only the shame and fear of the world hath bridled thy appetites: yet the fear of God cannot restrain thee from satisfying thy sensuality, nor make thee blush in executing thy devilish devices. Tell me, blind as thou art, deprived of understanding, being in such security and confidence, whereupon worketh the worm of conscience? whither is faith vanished, knowledge, judgement, reason, which only endued thee with the title to be called a man? Dost thou not dread so huge, so certain, so undoubted dangers? If thou were set at the table and served with meats, and some man should come unto thee (though a known liar) saying, that the meats set before thee were empoisoned, thou wouldst doubt and dread to eat it, were the meat never so delicate, and he a liar that did advise thee: Then if the Prophets, if the Apostles, if the Evangelists, if God himself doth cry unto thee, saying, Death is in the pot, O wretched man, death dwelleth in gluttony, which the devil presenteth before thee, and darest thou to receive thy death with thy own hands, and to drink the dram of thy damnation? What now availeth this belief buried in thy bosom? where is his light, his firmness as steel, his piercing sharpness, seeing none of all these things can extenuate thy sin?  
O mad miser, O frantic fool, made senseless by the subtle sleights of the Serpent, adjudged to eternal darkness both within and without, for that thou goest strait from inward to outward darkness. Blind thou art, because thou seest not thy misery: senseless, because thou dost not perceive thy perdition: and more obdurate than the Diamond, because thou feelest not the weighty beetle of the word of the Lord. O wretch wrappeth in woe ten thousand fold, worthy to be bewailed with no other tears then those which shall lament thy damnation, saying, If thou knewest the contentment, the quiet, the peace, and riches that God in this life hath offered unto thee, which now are thus shut and kept from thee. O wretched was the dismal day of thy nativity, but much more miserable shall be the day of thy death, which shall be the very door and first step to thy damnation. How much better had it been, if thou hadst never been borne, then to be tormented for ever? How much better had it been for thee never to have been baptized, nor to have known the faith, sith there they serve thee to none other end but to make thy fault more grievous? for if the reach of reason be sufficient to cause the guilt of the Philosophers to be inexcusable, for that they knowing God in a sort, did not glorify him (as the Apostle saith.) How much less can he excuse himself whosoever he be, having received the light of faith, and the water of Baptism, and yearly receiveth the holy Communion, and every day heareth his doctrine, doth nothing that belongeth thereunto, as the Philosophers themselves have showed to have done in their lives? But what shall we infer of all that we have said before, if not to conclude briefly, that there is no other fence, no other wisdom, no other counsel in the world, but to reject all the lets and intricate cares of this life, and to pursue that only path, where is obtained sure peace and eternal bliss? To this reason doth invite us, justice, law, heaven, earth, hell, life, death, and the mercy of God. To this the holy Ghost doth enjoin us by the mouth of Ecclasiastick, saying, My son, employ the flourishing years of thy youth to discipline, that in thy age thou mayst suck the sweet sap of sapience, as he which tilleth and soweth, expecteth with patience the commodity that groweth thereof. Thy grief & smart shall be very slender, and soon shalt have a plentiful harvest. My son hearken to my words, and despise not the advise I give thee: put voluntarily thy feet into the fetters, that prudence hath prepared, and thy neck into her yoke: bow down thy shoulders, and take her bonds upon thee, and let it not grieve thee to be tied therewith: Couple thyself to her with all thy heart, with all thy forces, and with all thy might: Fellow her footsteps, search her diligently, and thou shalt find her, and when thou hast found her, lose her not again in any condition. For she shall give comfort to thy crooked age, and that which erst seemed sour and tedious unto thee, shall become sweet and delectable, and her fetters shall be the foundation of virtue, and her chains the jewels of glory. For in that happy life, her bonds are the bulwarks of health. Thus much saith Ecclesiastic, by which words he notifieth unto us, the great beauty, the delights, the liberbertie and riches of true wisdom, which is virtue itself, and the knowledge of God, of which we here treat. But if this be not sufficient to mollify thy stony heart, lift up thy eyes, and look not to the water of the world, which fleeteth quickly, but behold that Lord, who dying upon the Cross, and sharply satisfying for that which thy sins deserved. Where he standeth in that form as thou seest, with his feet fastened, to stay for thee, and with his arms stretched abroad to receive thee, and with his head declining to give thee at thy coming (as to the prodigal son) the sweet kiss of reconciliation. There he calleth to thee (if thou hast the grace to hear him) with so many cries as he hath wounds in all his body. Imagine with thyself that thou hearest his words in thy heart, sounding in this sort: Turn unto me, turn unto me, O Samaritane, turn unto me, for I will receive thee. Thou knowest well that thou hast committed adultery, with all those lovers thou lustest after, yet for all this turn unto me, and I will pardon thee: turn unto me, I say, for I am thy father, thy God, thy Creator, thy Saviour, thy faithful friend, thy only benefactor, thy full and perfect felicity, thy final end. In me thou shalt find rest, joy, peace, health, truth, wisdom, and all treasures. In me thou shalt find the flowing vain of the lively water, which chasest thirst away, and lifteth up a man to life eternal. In me thou shalt stand like unto the tree planted by the rivers side, which yieldeth his fruit in due and convenient time, which never loseth his verdure, and all that he doth shall succeed prosperously.  
My brother, these are the voices, the drums, and trumpets, wherewith Gods eternal wisdom, calleth sinners unto him, if thou wilt hearken to this harmenie, and not listen to the Siren songs of the subtle Serpent, turn thyself unto to God, and amend thy life speedily, to the which end this Treatise is addressed. But how this is to be performed, shallbe showed in the next volume.   
The end of the Conversion of a Sinner.   

Sundry profitable Contemplations, gathered by the said Author.  

The Argument.  
A Christian man which covetteth to come unto God, must make his entrance through the gate of compunction, generally confessing all his offences. Whereunto it shall avail him much, to exercise himself every day in certain Prayers and godly Meditations, and in the considerations of death and of God's severe judgement.  
CHAP. I.  
HE therefore that is departed out of Egypt, and beginneth to march towards the land of promise: he that like unto the lost son reremembreth himself, and openeth his eyes to behold the beams of glittering virtue, and knoweth the perplexity wherein he is plunged, and the fraud of this frail life, and desireth to return to the plenteous repasts of his father's house, his first passage must be through the straits of penance, where it behoveth him ruthfully to record in his mind the former riots and excesses, and firmly to purpose the amendment of them. And for that this discussion and examination ought to be as the Prophet saith, with affliction and remorse of conscience, it is the part of the penitent, at that time to use all such prayers & ronsiderations as by any means may stir him to tears and dolour. To the which availeth much the consideration of death, of God's final judgement, of the pains of hell, and of the passion of Christ, suffered for the satisfaction of our sins: Sith it is apparent, that if there had been no defects on our side, there had héene no cause of his grievous annoy. These and such like considerations may move us to sorrow, and to the detestation of sin, which is the chiefest part of repentance. In the which we should exercise ourselves, not only the space of five or six days, but the greatest part of our life. Wherein many penitents are deceived, who being most diligent in scouring their conscience, and scanning their faults, are quite careless in bewailing of them, whereas both the one and the other are most necessary, but chiefly the last. And I think verily, that the cause why so many faint in the following of virtue, and in long time cannot attain to perfection, and sometime to surcease their journey begun, is, because they have not laid a sure foundation, nor have not planted the roots deep enough in this exercise. For this being the pillar of all the building, when the foundation itself is feeble, the work cannot be firm which is erected upon it. To the which end, it is very necessary to assign certain days, many or sew, as the holy ghost shall direct us, wherein (as I have said before) we may exercise ourselves in all such prayers and meditations as may induce us to this sorrow. For the plainer declaration of this doctrine, I mind to impart unto you a few of the foresaid considerations, which may serve, not only to stir us to be sorry for our sins, and to the hatred thereof, but also to allure us to the love of virtue, and to the fear of God, and to the contempt of the world, for all this is needful to novices and beginners.   

The Argument.  
He that list to incline his heart to the hatred of sin, and to the dread of God, must convey himself into some covert corner, and must bend and employ his mind to the contemplation of the heavenly bliss, and the iniquities which abound here in earth.  
CHAP. II.  
Whosoever then will have his heart settled hereupon, and will fasten this firmly in his mind, must every day once or twice, take a time most quiet & convenient for that purpose, and sequestering himself into a secret place, all other earthly thoughts and vain imaginations being laid apart, arming himself first with the shield of faith, & humbly craving the grace of the holy spirit to assist him in this behalf: assuming to himself, the mind of that devout Publican, which durst not to lift up his eyes towards Heaven, for the confusion and horror of his offences. Let him repeat some general confession, or else the Psalm Miserere mei deus, with so great devotion as he can devise, and suddenly let him apply his mind to the considerations following, that by this means he may attain the fear of God, through the sorrow, the dread, and detestation of sin.   

The Argument.  
In the first consideration, a christian aught to run over the multitude of the mortal offences that he hath committed.  
CHAP. III.  
THe first sting that may stir us to the woe and hatred of our iniquities, is, to consider the infinite number of them, and to fix them before our eyes, as a terrible troop of armed Soldiers, that the soul may be appalled with so hidcous a spectacle. Run over therefore briefly all the commandments of God, through all the capital sins, through all the senses, the powers and parts as well of thy body, as of thy soul, and thou shalt perceive, that there is scarce any commandment which thou hast not transgressed, nor any sin wherein thou haste not sunk, nor any sense external or internal, which thou haste not abused, nor any benefit which thou haste employed to that end for which it was given thee: But as the Prophet saith, God hath given thee his gold and silver, and therewith thou haste served Baal. Look therefore into thyself thoroughly, and view the race of thy life passed, and thou shalt see a huge web fraught full of deceit, of treachery, of pride, of lies, of sloth, of envy, of covetousness, of hatred, of enticements, of blasphemy, of malice, and of a thousand other manners of mischiefs: and thou shalt find, that like a brutish beast, in all and every of these thou haste followed and fulfilled thy sensual delights, without regard of the law of justice or reason, and thou shalt perceive, that thou hast lived as a Gentile or Pagan altogether, which never knew God, or as though thou so believest, that there were no God, no death, no judgement, no pain, no bliss, nor any thing else to be thought, but even to be borne, and to die. He than that hath lived this many years so disorderly, shall it not be reason, that he employ the few days that are remaining of his life, in bewailing his former years fond consumed, and to feel sensibly the ruin and decay of the powers of his soul, and the time that he might have gained in this while, which he shall not get hereafter? For time lost can never be recovered.  
Throw therefore thyself down prostrate before the feet of thy savionr, and with a pensive heart, say as followeth. My sins, O Lord, are in number about the sands of the Sea. I have spotted myself with the filth of every vice, and my offences are so multiplied, that I deserve not, nor dare not to behold the Heavens, because I have provoked thy wrath, and have done evil in thy sight.   

The Argument.  
In the second consideration he should consider, that by sin is lost the grace & comfort of the holy Ghost, the mutual amity, the favour & fatherly protection of God, the participation of all the good things done in the universal Church, and the benefits of Christ's passion.  
CHAP. FOUR  
WEigh farther, of how great treasures vice doth rob and spoil thee, which is one of the considerations that should most affright a Christian, whatsoever he be, examining thoroughly on the one side, what is lost by sin, and on the other side, with what facility careless men offend daily. For by sin is lost the grace of the holy Ghost, which is the most precious gift that God can bestow upon his best beloved in this life. It robbeth us also of the favour of God, which always accompanieth his grace. And if it be a great grief to lose the favour of an earthly Prince, how much greater should the grief be, to incur the displeasure of him that is king of heaven and earth? It bereaveth us of the virtuous flowing from above, of the gifts of the holy Ghost, wherewith the soul is made bright and pure in the sight of God, and is armed and animated against the force and violence of the enemy. It robbeth the soul of his interest in heaven, which proceedeth from the same grace, sith that by grace glory is given (as the Apostle saith.) Also of the spirit of adoption, which maketh us the sons of God, and instead thereof, insecteth us with the fury of rebellion, which causeth us to impugn his holy pleasure, whereby we lose the entertainment due unto sons, and the fatherly providence which God taketh of those whom he receiveth for his children, which is one of the greatest treasures that in this life may be enjoyed. Wherein the Prophet rejoiced not without good cause, when he said, I am right glad (O Lord) because I see myself shrouded under the shadow of thy wings, which is, under the protection and fatherly providence that he hath of his chosen people. By sin, is lost, the peace, the quiet, and comfort of a guiltless conscience, the sweetness and solace of the holy Ghost, the fruit and merit of the virtuous actions that thou haste wrought all thy life before, even until that hour, the participation of all those treasures which the Church holdeth in her custody. Finally, by sin is lost the participation and fruition of the merits which flow from Christ's passion, who is our head, because a sinner is not incorporated in his body as a lively member through grace and charity. All this is lost by one mortal offence, and that which is gained thereby, is, to be adjudged to eternal torments, and for that time to be canceled out of the book of life, and in stead of the son of God, to be made the vassal and bondslave of Satan: and in stead of the temple and seat of the most blessed Trinity, to become the den of thieves, the nest of Serpents, the receipt and harbour of venomous Bafiliskes. This is the guerdon convenient for sin, whereby thou mayest learn, whether it be not good reason to tremble and quake, beholding with how little scruple of conscience, with what facility and confidence, so many careless men offend without measure. And farther, what reason it were that thou bedeawest thy cheeks with bloody tears, if not for the love of God, yet at least for thine own distress, which hast lost such inestimable riches, for so small a mite as is the delight and taste of one trespass. If Esau wailed and wept so bitterly, because he had lost his inheritance in lieu of the like taste: with what cries and complaints shouldest thou fill heaven and earth, for the loss of so worthy of patrimony? that with grief and sorrows sharp, thou mayest recover the thing thou hast lost by dalliance and delights.   

The Argument.  
In the third consideration, he should think upon God's benefits bestowed upon man, that he might be abashed thereat, and be ashamed of himself. And therefore enjoin himself to some sharp affliction, for that he hath been a creature so ungrateful and unkind.  
CHAP. V.  
FOr the better replication of this, ponder in thy mind the infinite number of God's benefits. For how much the more a man weigheth how bountiful God hath been towards him: so much the more he shall be confounded in himself, seeing how wicked he hath showed himself to God. In this sort the Prophets did often persuade the people of God to repentance. And in this manner Nathan the Prophet began with David, when ere he reproved him of adultery, laid before him the favour and regal dignity, whereunto God had promoted him, and what else he had reserved for him. In like sort, a man should chief regard these ten kinds of benefits that ensue: that is, the benefit of creation, of conservation, of redemption, of baptism, of calling, of divine inspiration, of preservation from evil, of the Sarraments, of peculiar grace and private prerogatives which he hath received of his Saviour, and lastly, of the glory which he expecteth hereafter to have. And particularly, let him fix himself upon the benefit of vocation, which is this, that God hath looked so long for his conversion, and hath suffered and supported his sundry sorts of sin, with such exceeding patience, breathing upon him eftsoons godly motions and divine inspirations in the very midst of his naughty life, thereby to withdraw him from his iniquities, and to stir him to repentance.  
Weighing then with equal balance, this wonderful liberality and benignity of our Saviour on the one side, and on the other, our stubbornness, ingratitude, rebellion, and abominations committed against so merciful & bounteous a benefactor, who will not be abashed and appalled thereat? who will not rend his clothes? whose eyes will not yield streams of tears? whose heart and entrails will not be consumed in sighs? who will not call all creatures to revenge and to wreck their wrath upon a caitiff so ingrateful and rebellious?   

The Argument.  
In the fourth consideration, a Christian should consider the contempt and injury he hath done to God by his offences: esteeming more, and preferring earthly dross before his divine Majesty.  
CHAP. VI  
COnsider farther, the despite and great wrong that is done unto God through sin, for that so oft as we offend, the judgement and practise thereof doth still pass into our hearts, weakeneth the understanding, whereby we banish all fear of transgression, nor we feel not the weight of sin, which if it were set diametrically in the one part before the interest of sin, which is some delight, or gain, or step of dignity, or such like, and on the other part the displeasure of God, whereby we lose utterly God himself, who is the top of our felicity. In such sort, as though God were contained in one balance, and the taste aforesaid in the other, and a man placed in the midst, deliberating and giving sentence which should be rejected, despiseth God, to enjoy that fléeting delight: what greater contempt, what more ignominy, what so great reproach can there be offered to the divine Majesty of God, then to prefer and esteem better of dross and filth, then of God's excellency. Wherein we much resemble the Hebrews, when Christ and Barrabas being presented before them, to know which should be delivered, with one accord they rather chose Barrabas then Christ. And this is as though we would say unto God, we will no more account thee for GOD, but we will adore and have for our God and final end, our own delights and proper gain. For he that so much regardeth a delight, that he preferreth it before the love of God, and esteemeth and accounteth it of greater price than God himself, assayeth to rob God of his royal dignity, who is the prop and pillar of our beatitude, bestowing it upon some brickle or beastly pleasure, which is as though he would bereave God of his crown, and give it to a creature. What thing can be more horrible than this: God commanded the heavens being senseless Creatures, that they should feel this defect, and should wonder thereat, saying by the Prophet jeremy, O ye Heavens be astonished thereat, and let your gates crack with marveling, for my people have offended me grievously after two sorts: They have forsaken me the fountain of the water of life, and they assay to assuage their thirst in stinking puddles, which can hold no water. He than that considereth how many thousand times he hath done unto God the very same contempt and injury, what should he not tremble to have committed so grievous crimes? should he not wish that his eyes were turned into fountains of tears, to bewails night and day so great evils and excesses.   

The Argument.  
Fifthly, we ought to consider how much God hateth sin, and for the same, how many men be scourged with sundry calamities.  
CHAP. VII.  
COnsider the execrable hatred that God beareth to sin, which cannot be comprehended in the understanding of man, for that the malice of sin is conformable to the majesty of the person offended. Wherefore as the greatness and omnipotency of God is infinite, so also is the malice of sin committed against him. And farther, as the bounty of god is infinite, so he hath an infinite hatred to wickedness. And yet if thou will know this gear more clearly, and wilt imprint deeper in thy mind the hugeness of this hatred, and therewithal wilt fix in thy heart the fear of God (which is the foundation of all our avail) mark the dreadful and bitter punishments that he hath executed against sin, and thereby shalt understand it the better. These punishments are innumerable, but thou mayest set to the view of thy consideration, the most notable amongst them. As was the wrath of God extended upon his chiefest Angel, and all his adherents: Upon the first man, with all his posterity: Upon the whole world, by the general flood: Upon the five great Cities consumed with fire and Brimstone, descending from Heaven: Upon the two sons of Aron, Nadab and Abiu, because they would offer up sacrifice to God with other men's fire: Upon David, for his adultery: Upon Saul for his disobedience: Upon Hely, for not chastening his Children: Upon Anania and Saphira, for their avarice: Upon Nabuchodonezer, for his pride: Upon Jerusalem, Babylon, and Niniveh, and other Cities, which for their divers offences, were utterly destroyed and left desolate. Consider also, the fierceness of hell fire, and the torments thereof, which GOD provided for the revenge of sin: the satisfaction and punishment that his son was forced to endure, before he could cure the guilt and grief of sin, which is more terrible than all the rest, for the worthiness of the person, upon whom it was executed. Every one of these punishments, if it be scanned advisedly, with his due circumstances, shall much avail to advise us of the dreadful severity of God's justice, and the mortal hatred he heareth to sin, whereby may be driven into our hearts, the dread of God, and dolour of sin.  
He therefore that considereth how oft he hath incurred this so heinous indignation of God, shall it not be requisite that he shrink and shiver thereat, and that he with for a sea of sorrowful sobs and tears, to quench therewith the fury and flame of God's hideous hatred enkindled against him? A man therefore meditating in his mind with a vehement passion of dole, that the mighty Lord of hosts will lay upon him, all the plagues before mentioned, or at the least some part of them: let him meekly prostrate himself before the presence of God, and being truly humbled in the very bottom of his heart, say he thus.  

A Prayer.  
O Supreme Creator of all things, I reckoning in the secret records of my mind, my grievous guilt committed against thy divine Majesty, do marvel at my folly, yea at my madness, weighing how benign and mighty a patron I have abandoned. I accuse and curse my ingratitude, seeing that from such liberty, I am come to so wretched thraldom: I know not what to expect or hope for, but hell, death, and desperation. For the justice which I cannot shun, doth gall and crush my conscience: yet remember contrariwise thy infinite mercy and clemency, which by the testimony of thy Prophet, excelleth all other works, and by the which in a curtain manner thou masterest thyself, suddenly a joyful spark of hope doth recreate my sore afflicted soul. For why should I despair to obtain pardon of him, who by his Prophets doth so oft invite sinners to repentance, saying, I wish not the death of a sinner, but rather his conversion and life. And thy only begotten son by many Parables hath manifested unto us, how ready thy remission is to all true penitents.  
This he showed by the jewel which was lost and found again: by the prodigal son, whose perfect image I acknowledge to be in myself. For he I am which have wrongfully renounced thee my most affectioned father, and he that wasted his blood riotously: and following the pursuits of my fleshly desires, have fled from them pleasant path of thy commandments, and have fallen into the beastly bondage of sin, and consequently, have been oppressed with extreme distress and misery. From whence I know not who can restore me home again, but he only from whom I have revolted. Sweet Saviour, let thy mercy receive the man that humply prayeth pardon, whom thou hast graciously expected even till this hour. But because this is not due to my merits, in stead of them, I offer unto thee all the travails and deserts of thy dearly beloved son, and all the sorrow and torments that he hath suffered for me.  
Therefore, most merciful father, for the fervent love and petitions of thy dear son, forgive the faults of thy histoyall vassal, regard the noble sacrifice offered by thy son, and race out of thy remembrance, the disobedience of thy lewd servant. For the ransom that he hath paid for my delivery, surpasseth far any my debts or trespasses whatsoever. Oh that it would please thee to put in a pair of balance my lewdness & thy liberality, my wickedness and thy wounds, no doubt the poise of them would be more weighty a great deal. For what guilt can be so grievous, for which such sorrow cannot satisfy sufficiently? which cannot be washed away with such affliction, with so many tears, and with such obedience and humility, with such invincible patience, and above all, with such immeasurable love? What crime can be so enormous, which may not be cleansed with that bloody sweat, yea whole floods of blood? What sin is there so execrable, which is not cured by Christ's death? Oh heavenly Father, I offer here unto thee, the self-same my Saviour and Redeemer, jesus Christ thy son, beloved most tenderly. His sharp sorrows, his agonies incomprchensible, the which thou knowest exactly to be suffered for my defects: and in stead of the contrition which I ought to have for them, I offer unto thee his bloody sweat: in stead of my tears, which I cannot shed because of the adamantical harness of my heart, I offer unto thee, his humble and fervent prayers, for all my slouths and negligences. For end: I offer unto thee all his loathsome labours, and virtuous exercises, his austere life, and all that he hath wrought therein, and the bitter torments that he did abide, as a worthy sacrifice of thy divine glory, for all the iniquities wherewith my whole life I have offended thee, and for the good things which I have omitted and left undone. Which livest and reignest for ever and ever. Amen.    

The Argument.  
In the sixth consideration, a man should think upon death, the last judgement, and bell pains. And how grievous will be the separation of the soul from the body, by means of death, which by reason of divers accidents occurring then together, is the very receipt of excessive sorrows & anxieties.  
CHAP. VIII.  
TO these considerations, I will add other three, out of Sarasinus of Fermus, that is, death, judgement, and she pains of hell, which are a very necesry appendix to all that we have treated of before. The same Doctor telleth us, that to him that is newly converted, nothing is more behoveful and requisite, than the meditation of death, both for that it repelleth vain delights, as also because the practice thereof is of such facility, as the which we daily view with our eyes, and feel with our hands: yea, we may rather say, that our surest portion is with death, and that we die continually, having a body so corruptible, that every hour altereth & changeth his shape, and never resteth in one estate. Like unto a river that passeth with a furious and headlong course, whereof no part can be marked thoroughly: for it running swiftly, whilst ye note one wave, strait it is not the same that ye looked upon before, but is turned into another. Many devout considerations may be had concerning death, which the matter itself yieldeth sufficiently to him that advisedly deliberateth hereupon. Of which, minding to collect a few, I do affirm, that if thou intend to reform thy life, when thou risest in the morning, persuade thyself so much as thou mayest, that the same will be the last day of thy life, and dispose of thy soul and worldly affairs, in such sort, as though in very deed thou shouldest not live one hour longer, and think not that thou deceivest thyself in so doing, for if death may attach thee every day, thou shouldest likewise daily attend his coming. And farther I say unto thee, that no one day of thy life shall pass without many negligences, unless thou dost enforce thyself to believe that every of them is the last of thy life. Think also upon the dreadful stroke of Death, which because it is so uncertain, aught to be feared continually: And consider to how many perils of death we are subjecteth, and thou shalt find that they are innumerable, as well within the body as without, in so much that if thou look warily about thee, thou shalt perceive Death to be painted in every place, and business. Think also what pressures and agonies shall assault thee at the point of death.  
To this consideration, it shall assist thee much, to behold sometimes a man dying. Mark the accidents and painful passions of that hour, how his body lieth forsaken of natural heats, his senses without force or moving, as though it were a very stone, the extremities and uttermost parts wax colds, the face is turned into the colour of lead, the bowls of the eyes dipped in, the mouth full of foam, the tongue swollen, the neck winding to every side. Then mark also how the breast beateth and panteth, and is ready to burst asunder with pain, the lips wax blue, the tooths become dumb. Finally, all the body dissolving itself, and being forsaken of the soul, with sorrow inestimable the man resteth a lump of earth. Thou perceiving and viewing well such perplexities in other, mayest likewise represent the same spectacle in thyself, imagining that the Phisttians have now given thee over, as knowing the malady to be incurable; thy friends and kinsfolks about thy bed, whose presence shall augment the grief of thy departure. O how dreadful shall that separation be, where wealth shall not assuage thy woe, but shall rather plunge thee deeper in the gulf of calamities, neither shall honours assist thee? yea thou shalt leave them with like vehement smart, as thou gottest them with greedy desire, and for thy wont delights, shalt reap the fruits of a gnawing conscience. What then wilt thou do being brought to this point? what counsel wilt thou then take? To go out of thy body will be intolerable, to abide there impossible, to defer thy departure, cannot be granted thee, neither mayest thou return to thy sensual delights, which now are senseless together, but knowing thyself, and scanning them more narrowly, shalt be abashed at thine own brutish behaviour, and if it were possible, wouldst fly from thyself. Shalt see thyself beset with horrible monsters, that is, with thine own sins, of whom whither soever thou wanderest, thou shalt be pursued and hedged in, all that is passed shall seem unto thee as the twinkling of an eye, and shalt know the time to come to be infinite. Then mayest thou well say with the Prophet, The dolours and dangers of death hath enclosed me round about, and the fury of hell hath assaulted me. By this minding and meditation of death, thou shalt acquire many great commodities. First, thou shalt be stirred and incensed to the service of God, the fear of whom is the foundation of wisdom, and beginning of true bliss. Endeavour therefore, so to arm and address thyself at all points, that thou be not vanquished by sin. Farther, shalt view thine own wretchedness and infirmities, which will serve as a corzie to qualify the swelling rancour of pride, and to establish humility, the very queen and guide of all other virtues. And shalt easily reject hateful avarice, and greedy gaping for earthly vanities. For the memory of death, causeth thee to know, that none of these things can be called thine, which thou canst not carry with thee out of this world. And thou continuing in this exercise, unwares thy dread shall be turned into desire, and death shall not seem so terrible unto thee, for that it depriveth thee of thy temporal life, as delightful and acceptable, because it giveth end to so many griefs and miseries, and giveth entrance to life and light eternal. And thou shalt perceive how little cause thou hadst to complain, or to be sorry, weighing that whilst thy body doth perish and consume in the grave, thy soul liveth blissfully in heaven, with a firm belief to rise again at the last day to life everlasting.   

The Argument.  
In the seventh consideration, aught to be premeditated how severe and rigorous Christ will be at the day of judgement: for that his countenance will then declare to the wickid beholders, nothing else but furious wrath and revenge, which none can escape, for there must be given up an exact account of all things done and thought of in this world.  
CHAP. IX.  
EAch man proveth and perceiveth in himself by often experience, that his understanding, by the apprehension of some fearful object or weighty consideration, retireth and coucheth closely within itself, and for that instant, repelleth easily all other idle imaginations. For which cause, it is most profitable counsel, that a sinner at his first conversion exercise himself seriously in such cogitations, for that by this means, peevish fancies, sometime through dread, sometime through wonder, will be either bridled or banished quite. If the memory of death, as is aforesaid, hath such force to cut off, and to restrain our vain and bagraum thoughts: how much more may this be done by the remembrance of that which ensueth after death immediately, which is God's judgement, and the pains of hell? By which meditations, if thou often think upon them, shall be brought to pass, that which Ecclesiastic affirmeth, Remember thy days, (whereby he meaneth that which then shall happen unto thee) and thou shalt never do amiss. S. Hierome not without just cause said: Whether I eat or drink, me thinks still I hear the sound of the Trumpet buzzing in my ears: Arise from death, and come to your judgement. Which how terrible it shall be cannot be imagined, sith all other terrors or tragedies whatsoever in comparison of this is nothing at all. Many times God hath manifested his judgements in this world, as when he drowned the world with the great flood: when he burned Sodom and the Cities adjoining: when he struck Egypt with divers dreadful plagues: when he made the earth to open in the desert to swallow up sinners: all which judgements, being compared to that general judgement which shall be exercised in the last day, are but shadows, but shows, and figures of the verity. If then thou desire to come to thyself, and to gather thy wits together with the remembrance of this, represent to thy imagination the terribleness of Christ thy judge, whose countenance shall declare nothing else but rigour and revenge, as at the first coming he showed mildness altogether. From whom thou canst not appeal to any other, because he is supreme judge: neither canst thou avoid his fury, because he is most puissant: and for that he is the very fountain and God of knowledge, nothing can be concealed from him. And because he hateth iniquity out of measure, he will not suffer any sin to be unrevenged.  
There thou must be accountable of all thy transgressions, debts, and trespasses, whereof if the least be enough to put thee in extreme danger and perplexity, who can make satisfaction for so many debts and arrearages, as shall be exacted at thy hands? Then thou shalt be examined how thou hast vestowed thy time, how thou hast ordered thy body, how thou hast gonerned thy senses, and how thou hast guided thy heart, how thou hast answered to the divine inspirations, how thou hast acknowledged so many courtesies. In the which accusation, thou shalt be convinced with so many witnesses, as are the creatures which thou hast abused by sin, which then will be so stirred to revenge the wrong done unto their creator, that if it were possible, those which are immortal would die with fear. For it shall be a horror inestimable, to see the world all on fire: the buildings and princely Palaces overthrown and torn in pieces: the earth to tremble: to view the elements to change their course: the Sun to be darkened: the Moon and Stars to lose their light: to behold the death and destruction of all creatures: the open gaping of graves: to hear the voice of the terrible trump, and woeful wailings of nations: to mark the discovering of consciences: to regard the monstrous deformed devils, and she in●●●nall furnace sparkling with furious flakes. But of all other things shall be most terrible to look upon, the victorious flag of the Cross, clittering in the air, with all the ensigns of the glorious passion of our Saviour: To see the judge to charge his enemies for the making frustrate, yea the reitteration of so many torments as he hath suffered for their redemption. Who might more easily endure the smart of hell pains, then to see themselves so accused and accursed of the Lord of bounty and courtesy, and to be expelled from his presence to perpetual punishment.   

The Argument.  
In the eight consideration, we ought to premeditate upon the intolerable terror of hell pains, which shall be perpetual. But of all those torments, the most grievous is the loss and lack of God's cheerful countenance, without any hope for ever to gain it again.  
CHAP. X.  
BUt it may so chance, that maugre thy might, for all these considerations, idle thoughts will not forsake thee, though it must needs be a sound sleep and a very drowsy dream, that will not be awaked with such incitations. Yet thou must not be discomforted, but how much more difficults do arise, so much the more stoutly thou shouldest strive to achieve thy enterprise. Assay then whither the search of hell pains will be more behoveful unto thee, concerning which, two things are chief to be noted, that is, the vehemency of their smart, and the time of their continuance. The least of these is able to mollify the most stubborn and stony heart of the world: but the which is not moved neither with the one nor with the other, is either dead in his soul, or else believeth not that which the Christian faith showeth.  
For though the greatness of hell torments cannot be imagined nor expressed, filled with most just fear. If thou accustom thyself to such exercises, a●● dost persever therein, in short space thou thalt become a new man, for by these meditations thy mind shall be brought to despise the world, to shun sin, to fear these pains, and to love virtue. And though at the beginning thou be appalled and affrighted vehemently, yet hand patience a while, for thy cold fear shall be qualified and tempered with the heat of love, as the black night is turned by little and little into the bright shining day.   
EINIS.