THE PENITENT PILGRIM.  Few and evil have the days of my life been. Gen: Cap: 47. V. 9  
LONDON Printed by John Dawson. 1641.   

4  
Alter quasi Phoenix  
Video et Vou●a  
D  Worthy is the lamb etc. Reu: 5. 12. 
3  
Vt Pelecanus.  
The Penitent Pilgrim bemoaning his sinful Condition.  
C  As a lamb to the slaughter etc. Jsa: 53.7 
2  
Halcyonis instar.  
Faith appears unto him affording him Comfort  
B  Behold the lamb of God etc. Joh: 1. 29. 
1  
Tanquam Aquila.  
Hope Seconds that Comfort  
Charity Promiseth him in this veil of Missery to cover all his Scarlett Sins with: the white Robe of Mercy, & Conduct him safely to the Kingdom of Glory.  
A  The lamb slain from the beginning etc. Reu: 13. 8. 
By Io: Hall  
London Printed for Will: Sheares 1651   

TO THAT IMMACULATE LAMB CHRIST JESUS; THE SOLE SAVIOUR AND RECEIVER OF EVERY PENITENT SINNER; HATH THIS POOR PILGRIM, HUMBLY HERE PRESENTED THESE HIS PENITENTIAL TEARS.   

The Sum, or Gradual Symptom of the Penitent PILGRIM.  

CHAP. 1. THe poor Penitent Pilgrim bemoans his present sinful condition.  
2 His coming into Idumaea; the companions he consorted with there.  
3 How his own Meniey, became his deadliest Enemy.  
4 His encounters with the world.  
5 His Combat with the flesh.  
6 What Assaults he suffered by the Devil, both in company and privacy.  
7. Three Engines by his spiritual Enemy reared, that his Fort might be razed.  
8. The Concupiscence of the flesh.  
9 The Concupiscence of the eyes.  
10. The pride of life.  
11. How neither the Law of Nature nor Grace, could call him home from his wand'ring course.  
12. He takes a view of the whole Decalogue, and he scarce finds in it one Commandment, wherein either in part or in all, he has not been a most grievous Delinquent.  
13 He examines himself touching the First Commandment.  
14 His breach of the Law touching the Second Commandment.  
15 His transgressing of the Third in profaning God's name.  
16 His dishonour to God's Sabbath.  
17 He confesseth how this bloody issue of sin, streamed forth likewise into a breach of the second Table; and first of disobedience to his parents.  
18 His contempt of the second, in his practising mischief against his Neighbour.  
19 His contempt of the Third, in playing the Wanton.  
20 His breach of the Fourth, in his cunning defeating of his Neighbour.  
21 His breach of the Fifth, in suppressing testimonies to witness a truth; or suborning witnesses to maintain an untruth.  
22 His disesteem of the sixth and last, in coveting what was another's; and desiring to increase his own with the loss of others.  
23 He takes a view of those seven spiritual works of mercy: and acknowledgeth his failings in each of them.  
24 Teaching the ignorant.  
25 Correcting the delinquent.  
26 Counselling the indigent.  
27 Comforting the afflicted.  
28 Suffering injuries patiently.  
29 Forgiving offences heartily.  
30 Praying for his Persecutors fervently.  
31 He takes the like view of those seven corporal works of mercy, and acknowledgeth likewise his failings in each of them.  
32 Feeding the hungry.  
33 Giving drink to the thirsty.  
34 Harbouring the harbourless.  
35 Clothing the naked.  
36 Visiting the sick.  
37 Visiting & redeeming the captive.  
38 Burying the dead.  
39 With sorrow of heart he remembers those eight Beatitudes, whereof he hath deprived himself, by giving entertainment to sin.  
40 Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  
41 Blessed are the meek, for they shall possess the Earth.  
42 Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.  
43 Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.  
44 Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.  
45 Blessed are the clean in heart, for they shall see God.  
46 Blessed are the Peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.  
47 Blessed are they that suffer persecution for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  
48 How seven Guests, under a colour of lodging with him, sought his undoing.  
49 Pride.  
50 Covetousness.  
51 Lechery:  
52 Envy.  
53 Gluttony.  
54 Wrath.  
55 Sloath.  
56 How by their treacherous assault, his Cinque ports become endangered.  
57 Sight.  
58 Hearing.  
59 Smell.  
60 Taste.  
61 Touch.  
62 Being thus encompassed with danger, he prepares himself for prayer.  
63 He repeats the Lord's prayer, and in every particular he finds himself a great Offender.  
64 He renders a private account of his Faith: and in every Article of the Creed, he finds a fainting, failing, weakness and want.  
65 Having thus examined himself, and found in the whole course of his life, a fainting in faith, and failing in works: He recals to mind those Quatuor Novissima, or Four last Remembrances; Memorials hourly necessary for all Christians.  
66 Death.  
67 
* Cuncta quae suntadducet Dom. in judicium. Eccles. 12. Reddituri sumus rationem de cogitationibus nostris Sap 1. De omnibus verbis. Mat. 12. De operibus nostris. 2 Cor. 5.  judgement.  
68 Hell.  
69 Heaven.  
70 With the Remembrance of these; He becomes afflicted in spirit.  
71 Faith appears unto him with a cheerful presence, affording him comfort in his affliction.  
72 Hope seconds that comfort.  
73 
* Signant se omnes signe crucis, respondent omnes Amen, cantant omnes Alleloia, baptizantur omnes, ecclesiarum pietates implent; non discernunturfilii Dei a filijs Diaboli nisi in charitate. Vid. Aug.  Charity promiseth him in this veil of misery, to cover all his scarlet sins with the white robe of mercy: and by keeping her company, conduct him safely to the kingdom of glory.  
74 He takes comfort; And now wearied with sojourning longer in Idumaea, he turns to Canaan.  
75 The poor penitent Pilgrims last Will and Testament.   
His Funeral Obsequies.   

The Pilgrim's Prayer.  
I Ooke upon me, (dear Father thy poor Penitent Pilgrim. I confess, Lord, I confess, that if thou shouldst deal with me according to my iniquity, there were no hope at all left to me of mercy. For what hour in all my life, since my first entrance into this life, wherein I have not in some manner or measure, nay above all measure, become a grievous transgressor? But there is mercy with thee, and therefore art thou feared, mean time I of all others, have greatest cause to fear for abusing thy mercy. I have plentuously tasted of thy love; and considering it, I have many times resolved to become a faithful convert and zealous observer of thy Law. But these fair promises closed in a weak performance; No sooner was there the least opportunity offered me of sinning, than it found in me an easy impression. Pregnant was I in conceiving, prompt in consenting, and prone in committing. Yet Lord when I was going down even to the gates of hell, lest I should enter in, thou held me. And when I drew near the gates of death, lest they should receive me, thy grace prevented me. Whence I perceived, by the influence of thy sweet Spirit, whereby I became enlightened, that whensoever I fell, it was through my own frailty; but whensoever I rose, it was through thy great mercy. Yea, I found thee ready in every opportunity, to afford me thy helping hand in my greatest necessity. When I wandered, thou recalled me: when I was ignorant, thou instructed me: when I sinned, thou corrected me: when I sorrowed, thou comforted me: when I fell, thou raised me: when I stood, thou supported me: when I went, thou directed me: when I slept, thou kept me: when I cried, thou heard me. Nay, shall I more fully declare thy goodness towards me? If, after these few but evil days of my pilgrimage; even now, when the keepers of the house tremble, 
Eccles. 12.3.  and the strongmen bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and they wax dark that look out by the windows; if I say, after these many, too many misspent days, I abuse thy gracious patience no more with fruitless delays, but with my whole heart repent me for offending thee, thou forthwith sparest me: if I return, thou receivest me: nay, if I defer my return; so my delay make me not presume, thou waitest for me. Thus doth thy mercy reclaim me straying, invite me withstanding, expect me foreslowing, embrace me returning. Thus hast thou taught me when I was ignorant, comforted me when I was desolate, raised me from ruin, restored me after my falling, bestowed on me begging, found by me seeking, and opened to me knocking.  
And shall I be forgetful of these? Nay, Lord, let my right hand sooner forget her cunning, nay, may I rather become razed out of the Book of the living, than I become forgetful of thy gracious dealing. I will return then unto thee with a sorrowful heart, but with wings of hope, because from thee cometh my help.  
I know, Lord, Because of unrighteous dealing, and wrongs, 
Ecclus 10.8.  and riches gotten by deceit, the Kingdom is translated from one people to another.  
Dear Lord, great sins require deep sighs, as I have been infinite in sinning, may I be incessant in sorrowing; that sowing in tears, I may reap with joy in the day of my translation.   

THE PENITENT PILGRIM.  

CHAP. 1. The poor penitent Pilgrim bemoans his present sinful condition.  
O Draw near mel do not turn your eyes from me, but look upon me; the poorest penitent Pilgrim, that ever sojourned in Idumaea. O woe is me, that my Habitation is prolonged! O woe is me, that I have dwelled so long with the Inhabitants of Kedar! 
Psal. 120.5.  Hence it is, that mine house is become full of blackness; no Guest but Sorrow lodgeth in it: because the woeful'st, sinful'st wretch that ever breathed, is the owner of it. O woe is me, where shall I turn me? If to Heaven; my sins become as bars, to shut me from it. Nay, I have highly provoked his wrath, who is commander of it. If to Earth; I find myself wholly unworthy that it should bear me, having already so long born with me, by bearing with that iniquity, which it hath so long time received from me. If to Hell; O there I find the just portion of my inheritance; a place fitting to punish my wickedness. 
Isa. 30.33.  I find Tophet prepared of old, and for old Transgressor's. Such as have made an old League with the Old-man. Such as have no acquaintance with the Newman. And such an one am I, of all others the most miserable man; who have made myself an Alien to Zion, because so wholly naturalised to sin. Worthily then may all the Elements fight against me: Nay, all God's Creatures profess themselves Enemies to me, because I have imagined mischief in my heart, against Him who made both them and me.  
Retire then sinful soul, poor comfortless soul, and recollect thyself a little. 
Exod. 15.23.  Leave the Company of men, and hie thee to the waters of Marah. Leave the world, and fly into the Wilderness. Let thy dwelling be with the Pelican and the Ostrich; with the mournful Turtle, or the Sparrow on the housetop. Let thy Music be as the Chattering of the Crane. As thine eye was the sense of sin, so let it be the sense of sorrowing. Never had poor Pilgrim more cause.  O my Redeemer, make me sensible of my present state.  

CHAP. 2. His coming into Idumaea; The companions he consorted with there.  
YOung, and so very young I was when I first came into Idumaae; as my tender age required a Guardian to manage my youth. And divers good and gracious Consorts there were, whom at the first I received into my acquaintance: And with these I lived for a little time familiarly: and bettered myself much by their company: But alas for grief, I continued not long with them; Other Companions drew me from them. Those good and virtuous ones betook themselves, as I thought, to a course of life too strict for my loose affection to follow. I felt the Spirit of youth rioting within me. Those devout tasks, which before I observed; begun now to be intermitted. I held a sober regular life too eremitical: private retired walks too stoical. I thought with myself, how I had stayed too long in the Tiring-house, I must now show myself upon the Stage; where I played the Prodigals part to life: for I bestowed my whole life upon the action of that part: when I saw a Thief, I followed him: and with the Adulterer I divided my portion. I bestowed the day in variety of follies: and a great part of the Night in a delightful remembrance of those follies. Let us prepare ourselves (said one) for the spoil: and I had an hand as ready to further it, as he to demand it. Let us drink wine in bowls, and carouse till our eyes be red; let the day care for itself, while the day of our life admits no care. Let us take our full of pleasure, (said the wanton) let our delight be in dalliance: and I followed the steps of the whorish woman; though her ways led to death. And I delighted myself in the company of the Drunkard: yet had I read (and the more my sin not to retain) To whom was woe; to whom sorrow to whom strife; to whom murmuring; to whom wounds without cause; and to whom redness of the eyes. 
Prov. 23.29.30.  Even to them that tarry long at the wine, to them that go and seek mixed wine. And I had heard too; nay my experience of others miseries, had informed me too, How, because of the whorish woman a man is brought to a morsel of bread, and (how) a woman will hunt for the precious life of a man. And yet I considered not these things, nor applied them to my heart: but, like the fool to the Stocks, I laughed while I perished; I sported in my misery, and knew nothing how Ishmael played with me.  O my Redeemer, look upon me in mercy, and give me a sensible apprehension of my misery.  

CHAP. 3. How his own Menicy became his deadliest Enemy.  
TOo true have I found that Proverb; Who can have a worse friend than he brings with him? Foes I had without, Fears within: but my bosom friends I found ever to be my busiest foes. And what less could I expect, then that my bosom friends should prove my deadliest Foes, being receivers and Abetters of my bosom sins? O what disorderly passions raged, nay reigned in me? what divided thoughts of hope and fear were ever encountering me? In my prosperity, fear of adversity wrought upon me: in my adversity, hope of prosperity seized on me. Neither did either of these conditions well content me: for, as thoughts of the one made me proud; so a conceit of the other made me impatient. Now, what hourly affronts did I suffer by my own, while I stood thus pursued by them? I found nothing on earth worthy my desire: yet were my crawling desires so fast glued to earth, as if they had no other Heaven to aspire to. Natural Philosophy had sufficiently taught me in my minority, that betwixt finite and infinite there was no proportion: that my Soul was of too large a circumference, to be confined to any earthly dimension. Again, that the tri-angular heart, resembling the Image of the blessed Trinity; could no more by the circumference of the world be confined, than a tri-angle by a Circle was to be filled. In this, my Speculation had informed me, but the use and application of it was far from me. Neither was it possible, that a Sconce should be secured from foes without, that harboured so many dangerous Traitors within. For my misguided affections (like scattered troops fall'n off from their Captain) committed all insolences. Nothing found they in me, which was not exposed to their fury. Thus did my Familiars, and known Acquaintance work upon my weakness; take me with their subtleties; and lead me captive to all miseries. Yet for all this was I silent, pleasing myself with the impunity of a delinquent. So I might sin safely, and flatter myself with a seeming security: and promise to myself a long life foolishly, because in it the most uncertainty; I could hug my betrayer: And herein so far was I from vindicating my wrong; as I accounted him my best friend, who had shown himself privately my maliciou'st Foe. So far was I (I say) from revenging myself of him, as I fought to ingratiate myself with him. For the injuries I suffered, I was either insensible of them, or I dissembled them. I neither reproved him, nor showed a displeasing countenance towards him; though for many years together, He and his Complices had lived familiarly with me, sit at my table, received meat from my hand, slept in my bosom, conversed with me when he pleased, and disposed of me as he liked. Thus became my Meniey my deadliest Enemy. O my Redeemer, I suffer violence, answer for me.   

CHAP. 4. His Encounters with the World.  
I Am now to tell you how I entered Lists; and how weak a Combatant I proved amidst those encounters wherewith I grappled. The Field where I pitched was the World. A place full of Snares, and such as suited all Estates. I could not see that place, wherein I could enjoy true peace. That which in reason should have been my contempt, became my content. Those May-buds of prosperity, honour and humane glory were scattered here and there to take me; and no sooner were they seen by me, than they took me.  
That retired Cell, wherein I both enjoyed myself, and the contemplation of Him that made me, had now for a season been estranged from me. I found such Objects in the World, as I condemned myself for staying so long out of it. If I desired to be rich, I found means how to purchase my ends: which, were they never so sinister, the custom was so general, as it authorised the error. Were it Honour that I sought after, I found a way quickly to enjoy her, though the purchase made me an unhappy gainer. Friends I could not want, so long as I wanted no means: For means procured me powerful Friends: but all these, by an unexpected overture, clozed with unfortunate ends. For all these, because I did not employ them to that end whereto they were ordained; but put more trust in them, then in him from whom they were derived; turned to my undoing, which well bestowed, had been my raising. No fight, no victory; no Conquest, no Crown. Indeed, in the very first assault, I remembered my Creator; and to promote his honour, I made a fair show, as if I would have entertained the encounter: but my resolution became weakened, and discovered my temper.  
O Eternity, eternity; how I forgot thee, and now forgo thee for one poor glimpse of vanity! Had I remembered what those glorious Martyrs suffered; how they combated; how they conquered. Had I but presented to my thoughts, what encounters those noble Virgins endured; how they slighted price, prayer and threats: and with their winning modesty, and resolved piety, quenched all unlawful heats. Had I recalled to mind, with what Constancy, those famous Confessors professed the Faith, even in the face of tyranny: and in despite of torments confirmed their fidelity: O then, poor Pilgrim, thou wouldst have holden all these encounters with the World light: and, in the discomfiture of them, shown thyself a Christian: whereas now in thy defeat thou hast acquitted thyself like a weak, Champion.  O thou Lion of the Tribe of juda fight for me; weak am I, unless thou defend me: strong am I, if thou shield me.  

CHAP. 5. His Combat with the Flesh.  
PRoud Philistine, how thou insultest over me! Is there no end of thy malice? no bound to thy fury? Wilt thou still Domineer over thy Mistress: and be a Commander of thy Sovereigness? Remember how thou wert made to be a Servant and no Mistress: a Subject and no Princess. Imperious Agar, do me not this dishonour. I have a noble Guest which thou hast long time wronged: one who was full of beauty, before thou blemished it: of a graceful presence, before thou disfigured it. O tell me, thou unthankful one, how comes it, that thou shouldst thus dishonour her by whom thou livest; disparage her by whom thou breathest? Pray thee, vile and stinking Carrion, hast thou life from thyself, or from an other? If from an other, why dost thou not tender her that honour that may become her, and make thee worthy of her? O whither wouldst thou hale me, thou hateful intruder! what have I received from thee but misery: and shall I now incline unto thee, who have been so ofttimes deceived by thy folly? Withhold those sinful embraces from me: they have already undone me, let them not entangle me in more misery. O that I were stripped of thee; or that I had loathed those delights which thou suggested to me! O why did I so tenderly cocker thee, thou baleful Cockatrice! And why did I not crush the Serpent in the Egg! why did I not shun the occasion of sinning, and so prevent the means of my undoing! O what had I from thee but Sin! And what other fruit brought Sin forth but death! whence camest thou O my Flesh, O my Darling Foe: 
Bern. Med. cap. 15.  & from whence was thy beginning? From Clay, vile Clay was thy Creation: from whence I received every clammy and earthy affection. Thou drew my thoughts from Heaven to Earth; that I might be more like thyself, who tookest thy material Creation from earth.  

Ib. cap. 3.  O my Soul, precious Soul, (if thy knewest the estimate of thy price) thou, I say, who art with God's Image adorned, with his Similitude beautified, by Faith to him espoused, with his Spirit endowed, with his blood redeemed, with his Angels numbered, made capable of happiness, inheritor of goodness, partaker of reason, commander of passion, what hast thou to do with this Flesh, from whom thou sufferest so many evils? By means of the Flesh, are strange sins imputed to thee; sins of her own hatching; sins which thy purer condition should have so highly hated, as nothing could relish thee less than to be so accoutred. By her, that loose Libertine, thy fleshly Idumaean, are thy works of righteousness accounted as a menstruous Cloth; by her, art thou brought to nothing; esteemed as a vain thing, and in manner nothing: For, tell me, O tell me, poor deluded Soul, what other thing is this Flesh, whose society thou seemest so highly to tender, but mere foam made Flesh and clothed with frail honour? But shouldest thou consider, O my Soul, what will become of her; how, after Death, her honour shall lie in the dust: how she shall be stinking Carrion full of misery and corruption, meat for worms. Again, how neatly so ever she seem now tricked, trimmed and tired, she is no more but Flesh: and that Flesh, and the beauty thereof as the flower of the field. Again, wouldst thou but consider her present condition, as thou hast already heard of her Original corruption: and read an Atomy Lecture on her beauty, to allay the heat of thy fancy. Wouldst thou, I say, but consider with a clear and disinteressed eye, what goeth out by the mouth, nostrils, and other passages of the body, thou wouldst soon confess that thou never look'st upon a more stinking Dunghill. Again, shouldest thou but reckon up all her miseries; how she is loaden with sins, surprised with passions, polluted with illusions, prone always to all manner of evil, and addicted to all vice, thou wouldst find thereby means of this stain of sin, full of all confusion and shame. For, by company of this flesh, became man like unto vanity, because from it, and none but it drew man that stain of concupiscence, by which he became attached, attainted, so wholly crooked and corrupted, as he set his love on nothing but vanity, practised nothing but works of iniquity. O leave to love her then, whose love is thy loss; estrange thee from her ways: for her paths lead unto death.  
And now give me leave to talk a little with thee, O my Flesh! And first resolve me, if ever I came into any place, wherein I could promise to myself peace. In this populous City, I cannot take my walk in any street, wherein I am not subject to be taken by thy deceit. Thou sendest forth those two light Spies, to purvey and bring in Objects of lust; by these am I wounded, by these do I suffer a continual Combat. Neither are these wounds cured, now when my youth has left me; when these daily Messengers of death summon me. For, though I be nearer my Grave, I am nothing richer in Grace. Though those follies of my youth have now left me, (and woe is me that I did not leave them before they left me) yet other aged maladies grow strong in me; against which I must prepare myself for the encounter, or I am undone for ever. Would you hear what my distempers are? They are these: Though few be my hours; hoary my hairs: yet am I as numerous in my worldly cares, as if I were but even now entering into the world. I cannot without an envious eye see my Neighbour's field flourish; others prosperity gives me occasion of repining: others adversity grounds of rejoicing. Honour I would have, yet can I hardly support myself, much less that Honour which is conferred on me  
Alas, poor mouldered earth! Now, when I carry about me, such constant Companions of my mortality! when Aches, Cramps, and Coughs are my age's livery! Now, when Death waits at the Wicket, and bids me come away, and leave the world, seeing it is weary of me: and fit me for my shrouding sheet, being all that is left me; yet have I a month's mind to be greater, or richer, or more eminent in the eye of the World, as if I could dispense with age, or make a truce with death.  
Thus am I encountered with new temptations: Night and day am I beleaguered: nor can I find any rest; so fierce and furious is this Combatant my Flesh. O how justly then may I complain of this my household enemy! And how may I escape her subtlety! It is her Delicacy that has undone me: for by pamphering her, have I famished myself: I took pity of her weakness, and I cherished her: and behold now I am abused by her! She has wounded me with her eye; no, with both her eyes has she surprised me. For with her right eye she showed me prosperity, and by inclining to her, caused me to commit idolatry. And with her left eye she darted adversity at me, and so made me murmur against him that made me. O how I feel myself now failing and falling to earth; yet how are my thoughts so glued to earth, as if they had no other place to think on! O my God from the depth of thy mercy, look upon the depth of my misery! thou knowest my necessity, let me not become a prey to mine enemy.  Sweet jesus, thou hast taught my fingers to fight, give me the mastery in this combat with my flesh.  

CHAP. 6. What assaults he suffered by the Devil, both in company, and privacy.  
O Thou envious one, was it not sufficient for thee to lose thyself by thy Pride: but like a cruel cunning Nimrod, haunt day and night after innocent blood. Thou art for ever lost, and thou wouldst have my poor soul in the same state. And to bring thy purpose about, thou hast practised with people of my own family, to betray my Fort unto the Enemy. Thou hast winnowed me: and as thou found me affected, thou wrought upon me. Thou had baits in store for every soul, to take him napping in his Darling sin. If thou foundst him labour of that birth wherein thou perished, thou couldst suggest to him thoughts of his own abilities; bring him to a disdain of others. Tell him, the State did not take sufficient notice of his worth. Advise him to hold an higher opinion of himself: and by contemning others, to raise his own estimate. But whereto aim all these trains? to undo him; for, being fed with these conceits, he begins to aspire to places of honour: wherein being crossed of his hopes, he falls into discontent, which clozeth the unhappy Scene of his life in misery and contempt. Or deprived of what he once enjoyed, and to an unexpected thraldom confined, with the heavy memory of his former felicity, and present misery, he either lives desperately encountered with those affrighting thoughts of danger, or takes his leave at once both of life and honour.  
Again, if thou foundst him Covetous, thou hadst achan's wedge, and Gehaza's treasure in readiness for him: He shall have his desires and a Leprosy to boot. If riotous, the Rich-man's table could not be better furnished, his delicious and liquorish appetite must be satisfied: nothing wanting that may tend to surfeiting, but with those Rioters before the Flood, he little knows how near he is perishing. If lascivious, his flesh must want no provocation, to bring this deluded Minion to destruction. Fancies by night, and more visible Objects by day, are sent forth to seize on his heart, and make him forgetful of God. If Passionate, he shall find motives enough to enrage him; nothing he sees can content him. Fury is in his eyes, and revenge in his heart. Many waters cannot quench this heat: for he aims at nothing but death. If Envious, others success finds him matter enough to work on. It is hard to say, whether his own gain or others loss please him better. Those walks in fair flourishing fields which are made to recreate others, are justly made to macerate himself. For to see his Neighbour's ground prosper, begets in him a distemper. If slothful, the Summer-beames, though they shine never so gloriously upon him, must not rouse him: there is an Adder in the way: yet a little, and then a little, makes him forget his poverty. If Heaven may be got by security, he may be secure of eternity. But the purchase of Heaven is no such easy task.  
Thus thou professed Enemy of mankind, assault'st him: and, according to every occasion, preparest thy temptation. And of all others, I poor Pilgrim, became in these most miserable. For well knew thy subtlety my weakness and infirmity. Whence it was, that finding me no less ready to assent, than thou to assault, thou madest my own Family thy Garrison to keep that precious Fort which thou hadst won from me. Thus by my not resisting temptation but yielding to it, rather vanquished myself, than was vanquished by it.  O my dear jesus, be thou near me, that I may redeem the time which is left me. Bruise thou the head of this Serpent, that he may have the foil, I the victory, thou the glory.  

CHAP. 7. Three Engines by his spiritual Enemy reared, that his Fort might be razed.  
THis enemy, as his own nature has made him cruel: so the long exercise of his malice has made him subtle. Engines therefore he prepares to scale the walls: and batter down those strong Holds, which stand against him. Where he finds the least breach, he applies his instruments. Delay he cannot endure: nor will he admit of any parley, where he finds the least weakness in the besieged party. It is not his use to hang out any White Banner, or to give a yielding Foe any quarter.  
Now call thyself to mind poor Pilgrim, and examine thyself, what thou hast done in this fearful encounter! How didst thou furnish thyself within, to repel the Enemy's fury without? Didst thou fly to that Sanctuary of a troubled soul, by offering up the sweet incense of humble devotion to the Tower of thy strength, the Horn of thy salvation? Didst thou imitate that devout Bethulian, in sending forth the voice of thy prayer, that Christian sacrifice of supplication? Didst thou prepare thyself against the assault? Were't thou careful of thy spiritual provision? Didst thou fast and pray, that thou mightst not enter into temptation? Were those Allies thou hadst within thee, true unto thee? Did not those on whom thou relied, betray thee? yes; dear Lord, I must confess it: I was betrayed by my own, to my shame. But alas, had these stood for me, all this had little availed me; for I was such an Enemy to myself, as I would have betrayed myself, had I neither suffered the assaults of heavy Friends within me, nor open Foes without me. O how sound slept I, while my ghostly Enemy stood at the gate ready to enter in upon me? Watchful was he in seeking to surprise me; but careless was I in labouring to prevent his subtlety. O how well knew he how to get ground upon me! How subtly lay he his snares to catch me? He became came familiar, by his too long acquaintance with me, and presented to me whatsoever he thought would soon take me. If at any time by the motion of God's Spirit, I entertained any good resolution; if I purposed to amend my life; and to strengthen these holy motions, prepared myself for devotion; to the end that He, who had begun this good work in me, might likewise perfect it in me. When, I say, I had shut the door of my heart from worldly cares: and had now begun to offer the sacrifice of my weak devotions to the Throne of Grace, that I might redeem the lives I had lost, and return with honour to my Grave. Woe is me! even amidst these holy resolves, came that subtle Serpent, and reared three strong Engines against the Fort of my soul. Strong were they, and cunningly contrived: so as, though they were raised for my undoing; they seemed to me wondrous pleasing: so foolishly gave I way to my destruction.  O my sweet Redeemer, look down upon me with the eye of thy mercy! let not my Enemy prevail against me, though he pitch his Tents, and cast his Banks about me; God will be good unto Israel; even to me, the poorest wand'ring sheep that ever was received into the Fold of Israel.  

CHAP. 8. The Concupiscence of the flesh.  
THis was the very first Engine which my spiritual Enemy reared against me. And this, I must confess, made a breach quickly through the windows of my Fort. O how willingly did I desire to perish? Though I saw mine enemies joining their powers together utterly to lay me waste; their presence was delightful to me. I invited them to sojourn with me. Neither did this Concupiscence want wooing terms to win me, who was won already; nor to plead to me what interest she had in me: seeing she was conceived and borne with me; and from the very first time I came into the world, consorted with me. I am, saith she, thy Playfellow. The hours of thy Pilgrimage would seem long without me. Therefore am I given thee, to allay those miseries which attend thee. Do not then so estrange thyself from me, nor refuse her familiarity who can so fully delight thee. Look upon me, and see if there be nothing in me, that may please thee! nay, look every where about thee, and see if aught could content thee, if I were absent from thee! As thou art the Flesh's Guest, so am I the Flesh's Darling. She, with whom thou dwellest, under whose roof thou sojournest; would hold this World a Wilderness: and every Creature in it, as a Pelican of the Desert, were not I to cheer her while she lives in it. Do not then leave me, seeing thou canst not live without me. I have variety of pleasures to refresh thee, lest the enjoyment of one should cloy thee. I have fresh fragrant Gardens for thee to walk in; fair goodly Buildings for thee to plant in; pleasant sights to delight thine eye; sweet airs to please thine ear; odoriferous soots to cheer thy smell; dainty cates to feed thy taste; choice embraces to content thy touch. Wouldst thou have Honour? I have Favourites will seize thee of her. Wouldst thou have wealth? I can bestow on thee abundance of treasure. Wouldst thou bestow the remainder of thy time in delights? Enjoy me, and with me all worldly pleasure. Come then, and set thyself wholly on me, while thou art in the world: seeing without me thy life were misery; the World a Cell rest of all Company.  
Thus with profane prayers, and treacherous tears did this Concupiscence of the flesh work upon me: and I inclined mine ear to her folly: so as this Engine made the first Entry.  O in mercy look down upon me, O my sweet Saviour! for that precious flesh of thine, which was nailed on the Cross, give me grace to crucify my flesh. O let not sin reign in my mortal body: but give me power to subdue it for my soul's health and thy glory.  

CHAP. 9 The Concupiscence of the eyes.  
O Whither do you hail me, ye false spies! what wrong have I done you, that you should thus abuse me? ye lay your trains for me in every place; wheresoever I walk, I can find no peace. For can there be any peace to the wicked? So long as I give ear to your enchantments; So long as I suffer my eyes to be led by you, what comfort may I reap, or what peace may I expect? Dinah followed you, and she was ravished: and behold while I suffer myself to be led by such blind guides, what else can I look for, but to be deprived of mine honour? O ye straying eyes, how soon were you casting forth your fiery darts to surprise those who inclined to you? Paradise could not be secured from you: nor those two sole inhabitants free themselves from being wounded by you. Eve saw the fruit, and it was pleasant. Bitter pleasure to bereave them & their posterity of such an inheritance for ever! And what do I, poor Pilgrim, but deprive myself of all happiness, by giving way to your concupiscence? I have lived in many places, and conversed with men of all conditions: and I found in persons of every quality, a natural proneness unto vanity: but examining whence the grounds of those vanities came, I found them proceeding from you; from you, those in-lets to all disobedience. For were not you the cause; those who are now proud, contemning others, and magnifying themselves above the condition of earth, from whence they came, would learn humility. Those, who are now covetous, thinking that the earth has not enough to fill their mouths, would be contented. Those who now give way to wrath, would put on the spirit of meekness, and learn to be patient. Those, who are now eaten up with envy, by wishing to others as to themselves, would be charitably disposed. Those, who now riot out their time in the dainties and delicacies of earth, would be more temperate. Those, who now impaune their honour to the Harlot, would be more continent. Those, who now spin out their time in security, would be better employed. Oh sigh and groan poor unhappy Pilgrim, take thyself now into the balance; weigh and examine thyself. Let not one hour pass over thee without a sigh; not a minute without a sob. Take away the force of this Engine, this fearful Basilisk, with incessant Rivers of tears: Thou hast yet a little time left thee; bestow not one moment of it, but to God's glory. See how every minute thou art nearer unto death; how those Messengers of the Grave tell thee thou canst not live long. There is not the least grain of sand which passeth through this Crevit of thine hourglass, but may assure thee that thou art hasting on to the Sepulchre of thy Fathers. Canst thou then find any time to game, play and sport thyself in Idumaea: seeing, there is no way secure from snares; no place that may promise peace? Where, if there be any pleasures, they are full of vanity: or, exceeding to an higher measure of ill, they are nursed by iniquity. Take them at the best, they are mutable, because subject to frailty; but take them at the worst, they are miserable, because they deprive us of glory.  O benign jesus, my sweet Redeemer, quench these desires of my flesh, and refresh me with the delights of thy spirit. Let not the lust of the eyes have any power over me: but exercise thou me in thy Law. O my dear one; be not far from me, for if thou leave me, what shall become of me?  

CHAP. 10. The pride of life.  
Poor pride! what hast thou in thee that may please thee? what good thing that may praise thee? Can the Leopard pride himself in his spots: or the Swan in her black feet? What hast thou, which thou hast not received: and if received, to whom is the glory to be rendered? Thou hast nothing of thyself but sin, and sin begets shame. What shame is it then to magnify thyself in sin? Shall thine Horse or thy Spear save thee? or shall the strength of an Host deliver thee? Look upon that vile matter, whereof thou wert made! Poor dust and ashes was thy moulding; and to dust and ashes must be thy returning. Is this cover of flesh, such a dainty thing to glory in? Must not the beauty thereof turn to rottenness and corruption: and the glory thereof sleep in the dust? Must not that fair front be peeled, and her beauty pillaged? Must not those sparkling lights, which, sometimes made others prisoners: or which made thyself a prisoner by their wantonness, become Lodges, forlorn Lodges for worms? Must not that face, now so fantastically in-laid with Love-spots, become an horror to the beholder? Must not every part or parcel of that goodly piece, that fair building, fall into ruin, irreparable ruin? Nothing then, poor Pilgrim, canst thou find without thee, wherein thou mayst justly pride thee. Look inward then; and see if thou canst find any thing there that may procure thee favour in the presence of the Almighty, by approving thee a fitting Instrument of his glory. Ah me poor sinful wretch! what mountains of heavy-pressing sins do I feel, ever ready to sink down this surcharged vessel of my soul! I begun no sooner to live, then to love sin. No sooner to breath, than breath forth the infection of sin. The world received me no sooner for a dweller, than she admitted me for a sinner. Sometimes, indeed, when so much grace was given me, I communed with mine own heart: and begun to examine myself what I had done, what works of mercy hast thou performed? what actions of perfect obedience hast thou expressed? Bring forth that poor man, whom for Christ's sake thou hast clothed. That hungry-starved soul, whom for his precious sake thou hast relieved. Were't thou so poor as thou couldst not do it? Hadst thou not so much as one single mite, nor one cup of cold water to bestow on Christ's members! Blush; O blush thou wretched Pilgrim! Thou hadst change and choice of clothes, and these in thy Wardroabe must lie rotting; or to Moths become feeding. Thou hadst oil and meal in thy Pitcher; yea, thy storehouses surfeited of plenty: and thy wine-presses groaned in their fullness: yet must the hungry soul perish, rather than be relieved; The thirsty die, ere he be refreshed; The naked be utterly starved, ere he be clothed. Look then and take a full view of thine inward man; and see if there be any thing in him, that may justify thee by him! Sift and search him; the more thou shalt discover him: the more thou shalt be ashamed of him. Whence then thy pride? whence thy vainglory? Resolve thyself to tears; fall prostrate before the Throne of grace. If thou have a desire to be like thy Saviour; love humility, it is the best badge of Christian honour. In whomsoever dwelleth the pride of life; that soul cannot dwell in Christ's love. These are several lodgings, and are reserved for several persons.  O my Redeemer, give me a perfect knowledge of my present condition; that by it I may learn true humiliation. Let not the hand of the sinner move me, nor the foot of pride draw near me. He knows not himself, that can be proud: Oh keep me from being proud, that I may know myself.  

CHAP. 11. How neither the Law of Nature nor of Grace could call him home from his wand'ring course.  
THe wild Ass which runneth here and there, and snuffeth the wind in the wilderness; was a tame and serviceable Creature, in comparison of me, a Runagate to my Father's house, and a most rebellious sinner. We account that Subject, who owes allegiance to his Prince, not fitting to live, if he at any time practise against him: and worthily do we so account him. Woe is me! what have I then deserved? Many years are now gone and passed, since I left my Father's house; since I divided my portion with Harlots; since I rebelled against my Prince; that Prince of Princes. Means had he made; and sundry Messengers had he sent to recall me. He opened unto me the Law of Nature; and there he showed before my face, and unto my shame: what justice and Temperance, what Moderation and Continence; what excellent moral virtues appeared even in those who were Heathens, and knew no God. These only pertaked some weak glimpses of a natural light: They knew not what Eternity meant: nor where that Heavenly City was to be found: yet hated these to wrong one another: or to do to another what they would not have done by an other to themselves. These loved goodness without hope of reward. Their ambition was only to be remembered after death: or by their commendable lives leave to others examples how to live. Yet were all their virtues but splendid vices; nay, merely sin; because whatsoever is not of faith, is sin.  
From these then, taking me by the hand, he brought me to the Law of Grace: Where he showed me what wondrous things he had done for me. How, though I was bound, infinitely bound unto his Majesty. Even by the Law of Nature, for my creation: in distinguishing me from all others; nay, in setting me above all others: & in giving me a command over all others: yet had it been nothing to have created me, had he not likewise redeemed me: lost I was, and eternally lost: & he spared not his own to make me one of his own. Nor had althis sufficed me: (for everwas I failing and falling:) had he notlikewise sent his Holy Spirit to preserve me from a final falling. And now what heart so hard, whom these many benefits would not soften? And yet I (the more miserable I) careless of my own state, or what may hereafter befall my poor sinful soul, have not been as yet either alured with his mercies, or awaked with his judgements. I had a Law in my Members that foolishly sent forth her Prohibition to stay proceedings in all other Courts. I applied my ear to the Cymbal and to the Timbrel: I took my fullness of pleasure in sin. No sense could take delight in any Object, wherein I strove not to satisfy her appetite. Thus did I transgress the Law of Nature, and by that means made myself worse than an Heathen. Thus did I reject the motions of Grace, and so dishonoured the style of a Christian.  O my good Shepherd, call this thy lost sheep now back from wand'ring. Bring him to thy Sheepfold, where he may find plenteous refreshing. Write thy Law in his heart. Let it be as a Frontlet unto his eyes; As a chain to his neck; As a bracelet to his arm: Let him look into it, and as in a Glass, correct himself by it. O teach me thy Law, that my soul may take delight in it, and live.  

CHAP. 12. He takes a view of the whole Decalogue, and he scarce finds in it one Commandment, wherein either in part or in all, he has not been a most grievous sinner.  
Who would not think it strange, that any one should forget what the very sight of himself might make him remember? I can neither look upon mine hands nor feet, but their number and account might cause me to call to mind that sacred number which was delivered to Moses in the Mount. But admit I should lay this Holy Decalogue aside in mine own house, my private family: yet when at any time I come into God's house, my very care cannot choose but bring it to my memory. The view whereof is heavy to me. For what one Commandment in all that Decalogue, which in part or in all proves me not an high delinquent? A grievous Sinner, and what is worse, a slow Repenter! O when that Book shall be opened; and my sinful life compared to what is in it! when this mark of distinction shall be set over my head: Behold the man and his works! O how full of shame and confusion shall I stand before that just judge of the ten Tribes! when that Lord of Lords, that great God of Hosts, who is powerful in revenge, when he sees the malice of men to abound; when he shall shout in the clouds; when he shall come openly; when his fury shall break silence; when round about him a fire shall burn, and in his presence a strong tempest shall assail us; when he shall call the Heaven from above, and the earth to judge his people; when (lo) before so many thousands of people, all my iniquities shall be laid naked; when before so many legions of Angels all my offences shall be opened, not only of my works, but even of my thoughts and words: when before so many judges, I, poor delinquent, shall stand, as have gone before me in good works; when I shall be put to shame by such as rebuke me, and by so many, as have given me examples of living godly; When before many witnesses shall my conscience be convinced, as with their profitable instructions have admonished me, or by their just actions have left themselves for examples to be imitated by me. O in what case shall I then stand? what shall I be able to answer in my own defence? to whom shall I fly? to what Court may I appeal? It shall be then in vain for me, to call for the Mountains to cover me; no place of privilege from the Almighty. O what will become of me, when all my offences shall be laid before me: nay, even those which I do not now remember, shall be presented to me! For by a certain divine power it shall come to pass, 
Bern. Med. cap. 2.  that every one's works good or evil shall be brought back to our remembrance, and by the sight of the mind shall be seen with a wonderful quickness: to the end, that knowledge may accuse or excuse conscience: that so all and every one may at once be judged. O my soul shake and tremble! consider thy condition: with that heavy indictment that shall bring thee to confusion! For whatsoever thou art now ashamed to confess, shall be then made manifest unto all. Yea, whatsoever in a dissembling manner thou seekest here to cover, shall then by that avenging flame of God's justice be brought to a fearful censure. And by how much the longer God expecteth thy amendment, if thou neglect time, so much stricter shall be his judgement, severer thy punishment. O, but wilt thou say, who can keep the Commandments? This is an hard task for flesh and blood. But I must tell thee, if thou have charity, it will make thy burden light, and thy yoke easy. If thou do thy endeavour, and with a pure affection beg assistance of thy sweet Saviour. when all outward helps fail thee, he will be near thee. He who bore his Cross for thy sins, will nail all thy sins upon his Cross. He who bade thee, Do this and live, will do this for thee that thou mayst live. He who commanded thee that these things should be done, will do for thee whatsoever he hath commanded to be done. But this, poor Pilgrim, thou knewst long since. His goodness could be no strange thing unto thee: seeing his natural propriety unto goodness; his universal power and Omnipotence; and his specioll experience have not only made him known to thy infirmities: but moved him to compassionate thy infirmities. Both willing and able is he to hear thee; in the bitterness of thy soul to cheer thee; in the bed of thy sickness to cure thee. And wilt thou yet complain, and say, This yoke is hard; this burden is heavy; when he, who trod the Vine-presse alone, will make thy burden light, thy yoke easy.  O my sweet Saviour make me to take delight in thy Commandments. Ps. 119.54. That thy Statutes may be my songs in the house of my Pilgrimage. Give me the feet of a Roe, that I may run after thee. O draw me after thee, and I will follow thee. Set before me, what thou hast done for me: so shall the memory of thy Cross, make my burden light, and my yoke easy.  

CHAP. 13. He examines himself touching the first Commandment.  
THough thou hast not heard the voice of the Lord with Moses: yet hast thou heard the Will of the Lord from the hand of Moses. Thou hast heard how he was a jealous God; he would have none to partake in his honour: nor share with him in what was only due to him. He has told thee how he was thy Lord, thy God: and that thou shouldest have no other Gods but Him. Now lie thine hand on thine heart, and tell me, Hast thou performed this? yes, wilt thou say, I was never so Heathenish as to worship any Gods of the Gentiles. It was his house I went unto: His Name I did honour to. I joined in the Supplication of Saints; I went after no strange Gods: It was the Lord of Hosts whom I served: The Lord of the whole Earth whom I honoured: yet, tell me, were there no other Lords on Earth whom thou served? yea, didst thou not make the very Earth, thy Lord, in preferring it before Heaven, and the hopes of a better life? Whatsoever is by us, most loved; that for a God is by us worshipped. Now, resolve me, unhappy Pilgrim, wherein can more love be shown then in weakening and enfeebling our spirits with pursuit of what we love? Now, compare thy hours which thou hast bestowed on the service of Mammon; with those thou hast more happily employed in the Courts of Zion! Hast thou not bestowed ten hours on Earth, for one on Heaven? Nay, hast thou not depended more upon those Egyptian reeds, these Helps on Earth, than those Hopes of Heaven? Though thou went'st to the Lord's house: and with a seeming humility cast thyself down before him. Though thy Prayers were mingled with tears: and thy weak devotions with lifting up of Eyes, and beating of thy Breast, with other seeming signs of humiliation: yet was not thine heart there wholly offered, where it seemed to be present. For long before hadst thou built a little Bethel in thine heart: where thou offered thy daily sacrifice. And here didst thou erect a Shrine of Gold for thy God. Earth was thy Deity: thus in the Chamber of thine Heart didst thou commit Idolatry. For hadst thou taken him whom thou professedst to serve for thy God, thou wouldst not have disinherited his providence, but with an holy and heavenly affiance relied on his promises. Nay, hadst thou taken him for thy God, thou wouldst have served him as he commanded thee: and with all thine heart loved him, as he well deserved from thee. Thou wouldst not have suffered his Members to have starved while thou surfeited: nor his Family of faith to have mourned while thou rioted. Thou wouldst have had the staff of bread in readiness to support them, counsel in store to advise them: all fitting supplies in the time of their necessity, to relieve them. Mean time, thine heart was more hard than the nether Millstone; with a deaf ear couldst thou hear their groans: with a pitiless Eye behold their tears. Nay, so far were't thou from taking him for thy God, as thou fled to other Gods: choosing rather to lose God by abusing his goodness, then to lose any of thy substance. The Wizard and the Soothsayer must be visited by thee: the Witch of Endor must not lose her honour. Tell me, is this to put thy trust in God? Is this to have no other Gods before him? Is this the way to espouse thyself unto him? Is this in a true and religious way of obedience to serve him? No; No; thou canst not serve two Masters: God and Belial. Thou must put off the Old man, before thou put on the New. Thou must leave those Groves and High-places, and in the lowest valley of an humble and contrite heart, come before God, and with the penitent Prodigal, throw thyself down before him.— with— I am not worthy to be called thy Son: closing thy Supplication with this humble Petition:— Lord, be merciful to me a Sinner. A Sinner! aye me, a most grievous and heinous Sinner! One, who in the fatness of his heart has turned himself from God. One, who in the foolishness of his heart has said, There is no God. For hadst thou retained in thee one thought of God, thou wouldst have trembled to have done that which thou hast done against the Majesty of God. Nay, whereas he has told thee, that there is but one God, and him shalt thou serve; Thou hast made to thyself many Gods: one to fulfil thy pleasure; another to advance thee to honour; another for filthy lucre. Oh how can I remember this without heaviness of heart! To leave him, who gave me being: To leave him, who is my portion; without whom I have no being.  O my good God do not leave me! for what am I without thee: or what can I do unless thou help me? All the Gods of the Gentiles are Devils. It is thou Lord only that hast made Heaven & Earth. Thou only, O Lord, art my God. Those Gods who have not made Heaven and Earth, let them perish from Heaven and Earth: let Heaven & Earth praise that God who hath made Heaven and Earth.  

CHAP. 14. His breach of the Law touching the second Commandment.  
BRing forth thy golden Calf, thy treasures of Horeb; thy Dagon, thy Moloc. Tell me, hast thou not reared these Idols in thine heart? These were but made of Gold and Silver: & these are the Metals which thou dost honour? Where the treasure is, there is the heart. Oh, upon how unworthy a Subject hast thou bestowed it? Oh, that thou hadst razed those molten Images, those graven Idols (too long engraven in thine heart) which thou so unhappily adored! Oh that thou had seen into the vanity of this painted Earth! What a folly it was for an unthankful people to set them up a God in the Image of a Calf that eateth hay? And art thou any Wiser in thy generation? Of corruptible things, hast thou made thy Gods; and on those who could not help themselves, hast thou relied. What daily sacrifices hast thou offered to those molten Images? These kept thee awaking, when thou shouldst sleep. These made thee fearful to Die: These made thy thoughts strangers to thy true God. Oh how bitter is death unto him that putteth his trust in his riches! O hateful Idolatry, to be so unhappily wealthy, as to make a reasonable Soul to do worship unto vanity! Gehazi became a foul Leper, by making himself such an Idolater. O my loose thoughts whither do ye hale me? nay, to what fearful conclusions have ye already brought me! Reason told me, besides that weak beamling of grace that darted upon me, that there was nothing in these but vexation of spirit. How, the love of the Creature took me off from loving my Creator. How, bowing to these so hardened my heart, as it could find no knees to bow to heaven. O depart from me, ye workers of iniquity! ye drawers of me to Idolatry! In you have I found nothing but vanity. Vain in your promises: but lighter in your performances. Ye and none but ye brought me to forget God, from whom cometh all good: and to fight under his Banner, who was a professed enemy to the Cross of my Saviour. But alas! where shall I turn me? where may I fly for succour in this time of danger? I have fled from him who had comfort in store for me: and polluted my Soul with spiritual Idolatry. It is best for me to leave myself, and to lean on him who gave himself for me. My Soul is of too precious a price to be left to such a keeper; as will betray her to her enemy for a moment's pleasure.  O my sweet Saviour receive thou me into thy bosom. Decline my affection wholly from adoring these Moulten Images of worldly vanity. Let me imprint thee my crucified jesus in my heart: so shall I ascribe all honour to him whom I love best, my blessed Redeemer.  

CHAP. 15. His transgressing of the Third, in profaning God's name.  
VIle Worm! filthy dung! Sinful dust! darest thou profane his name, at whose voice the Mountains shall quake & tremble; at the breath of whose nostrils the high hills shall be melted; the mountains shall be laid level with the valleys; the whole foundation of the Earth shall shake and be removed? And yet, unhappy Pilgrim, thou feared'st none of these things. Thou wentest on in Dishonouring his Name: nay in minting new Oaths, as if the reprobate had not already found out enough to dishonour his Maker! And these thou held'st a great grace to thy discourse: For the imaginations of thy deceitful heart were so set on mischief; as thou heldst Deep Oaths the breaths or accents of a brave spirit: the strength or sinews of any discourse. This made thee consort and keep company with the Dames of the time (for with this title are they highly pleased) to suck from them this profane venom: this spawn of the most odious senseless. Sin that ever the Devil suggested. Senseless indeed! For there is no one Sin which either one way or another affords not some vain delight unto the Sense: whereas this Sin is so senseless of any such Object, as it only affrights the Conscience. Affright! yea, and worthily may it affright. Seeing, God's judgements shall never depart from the Swearers House. Stand amazed, poor miserable Pilgrim, while thou hearest this! Put thyself in the Balance: and tell me, whether during all these days of thine unhappy pilgrimage, thou hast not practised this Sin? Sometimes in deceiving thy Brother with subtle Contracts: binding the value of thy commodities with an Oath, to enforce him to believe what thy Conscience told thee was not true. Sometimes in thy good resolves; calling God to witness that thou hast fixed thy resolves on this, and if God please, thou meanest to effect it; and thou were't persuaded that it would please God that it should be effected: mean time thou either weakly failed in what thou intended, or else never meant to perform what thou so ceremoniously vowed. Again, how earnestly hast thou sworn, and herein taken his blessed name highly in vain, that thou wouldst not sleep till thou hadst revenged thyself of thine Enemy? And far more constant were't thou in pursuit of this ill, then in performing aught that was good. How deeply hast thou vowed, to procure thy pleasure: which enjoyed, how carelessly were thy vows regarded? with what coldness rendered? Thou hast read how such profane Transgressor's as these, should be taken away from the presence of God, never to see his face. And yet for all this, wouldst not thou lose the glory (inglorious glory) of one Oath for the forfeit of such a prize. Not one part or Member of thy glorious Maker, thy sweet Saviour, but must be piece meal rend, torn & divided to have thine hateful humour satisfied. That precious Head that was with thorns crowned must be affresh pierced; That precious Side which was with a Spear pierced, must be again wounded; Those broad-spreading Arms so cruelly racked; Those pure Hands so pitifully nailed, must be anew opened; Those humble Feet which were so unmercifully bored, must be again pounced. Every wound must be revived; all his sorrows renewed. O unworthy Wretch, what hope canst thou have, that he will look on thee in mercy, who hast so cruelly renewed his wounds, and increased his torments with thy profane Oaths and hateful Blasphemy? How mayst thou think to hide thyself in those Wounds which thou hast thus aggravated with thine impiety? Was it not sufficient for thee once to have pierced his Head, his Side, his Hands and his Feet, & with thy crimson sins to have engaged his precious Soul to death, but thou must be every hour crucifying him with new Oaths, hateful curses, sinful imprecations? O what mayst thou think will become of thee? What hope, what help in the depths? He cannot choose but turn that Head from thee which thou hast so dishonoured; that sweet and lovely Face from thee which thou hast so buffeted; that precious Side from thee which thou hast so wounded; those immaculate Hands from thee which thou hast so nailed; those beautiful Feet from thee which thou hast so bored. And now, whither wilt thou fly; seeing there is no refuge for thee, neither in the Mountains nor in the Valleys? Nay the Depths shall not cover thee from the Sight of his Majesty. Thou mightst, indeed, have found a Resting place in the holes of the Rock▪ but they are shut from thee by reason of thine impenitency. O wilt thou in this case, this fearful case and condition, suffer thine head to take any rest? O wilt thou abuse those sweet Motions of Grace, and become worse and worse the nearer thou art to thy Grave? Woe is me for thee, for I must suffer with thee: and receive the wages of sin for inuring my mouth to Oaths, and inthralling thou my poor Soul, to the reward of shame!  
O my mouth, how apt hast thou been to learn an Oath; before thou hadst well learned to speak! Often hadst thou in thy Mouth to dishonour him: seldom in thine Heart to meditate of him. O how unseemly will his praise sound in thy polluted Lips? how dry and unacceptable thy devotions from so corrupt an heart?  
O my good God look not upon me as I have been; but as I resolve hereafter by thy grace to be. Cleanse thou mine Heart and my Mouth: that with the one I may believe unto righteousness: with the other I may confess my Sins, with the good things which thou hast done for me, unto Salvation. Let only yea, yea, and nay, nay, be in my communication: whatsoever else is of Sin, unless it be before a Magistrate to witness a truth.  O my Maker keep thou my Tongue, for it is a slippery member: So direct it, that it may utter nothing but to thine honour.  

CHAP. 16. His dishonour to the Lords Day.  
MAy not God be served with his own? May not he who appointed Six days for the use and service of man, reserve one for the more peculiar service and worship of himself? It is not much that he hath required of thee, and what service has he received from thee? In the very beginning, after God had created man, bestowed upon him his own Image; and put him in possession of a World of delights in one Garden; one Edon; He gave Adam a command, a strict command, and upon a great forfeiture. Yet became Man soon disobedient: no long time in the Garden, till a convicted Delinquent. Now behold! as of all those Trees Adam was but of one restrained: So of all the days in the Week, there is but one which God hath for himself reserved: yet neither that, nor this must be observed. Thou needest no Arguments to persuade thee that the Sabbath is moral; 
We are before all others, to bestow Holy days in pious works and religious ways. Aug. Sup. Psal. ●2.  being so far from making it Evangelicall, as thou didst make it thy day to satisfy thy lusts. At best, thou thoughtst thyself well employed that day, if thou bestowed it upon sight of a Wake, a Morris dance, or the sociable frequent of an Alehouse. Yet had it been better for thee to have digged, then have danced; to have ploughed, then so to have unhallowed this holy Day the Sabbath. How careful wouldst thou be of observing a profane meeting: where God was never remembered but in Oaths! Such merry Meetings might not be forgotten: the end whereof was to forget God and his judgements: and if it were possible, to put far from them the evil day. But as the fumes of drink begot forgetfulness in the Evening: so the sense of sin begot bitterness in the Morning.  
O my God one Day, and but one Day; and must thy commands be neglected that one Day? Was there no day for thee, thou profane Pilgrim, to commit sin with greediness; to follow thy loose lusts with eagerness; nor to slave thyself to all filthiness, but that very day, that peculiar day which God had ordained for his own honour: and wherein his Sanctuary should be made the house of Prayer? Was this the way to make thy handiwork to prosper, or give a blessing to thy Labour? If at any time, thy occasions, not of necessity but pleasure solicited thee; thou held'st it no scruple of conscience to dispense with the Sabbath; thou wouldst crave leave of God, nay thou wouldst take leave against the express will and warrant of God. Neither must occasion of profit nor pleasure suffer least neglect for God's honour.  
But admit, either through want of employment or fear of Presentment thou repair to the Temple. How didst thou behave thyself there? Did not thy irreverence and neglect of his Worship bring thee to that pass, that thou wentest forth with an heart more unsanctified than thou cam'st in? Was not thine heart wand'ring in the World, while thy body was at Church? Did not the hour seem long unto thee, whilst thou were't thus undevoutly busied in this thy enforced Practice of Piety? Yes, yes, unthankful Pilgrim; thou knowest this too well. No hour could be more tedious than so employed; how then could that stony Soil of thine Heart be fructified? how could thy seered Conscience be edified? Better had it been for thee, not at all to come to it; then by this thy repairing to it, thus to profane it.  O God of Sabbath! O God of rest! who hast ordained thy Sabbath the type of our rest: Make me to know that it is thy Day, which I am to observe; and thy House whereto I repair. Thou hast sanctified thy Sabbath; Sanctify me likewise for thy Sabbath. Thy house is an house of Prayer; in my Lips let there be praise: in mine Heart, Prayers: and make thou pure the viol, that it may more acceptably pour forth those odours of her Prayers.  

CHAP. 17. He confesseth how this bloody-issue of sin streamed forth likewise into a breach of the Second Table; and first of disobedience to his Parents.  
PRomises of long life, prosperity and success in the World, are and have been ever persuasive Orators to the ear of a Worldling. Long life is a comfortable thing to a Worlding; because he, who sets his rest upon the World, expects small comfort after this present World. Had there been no further hope of future happiness, this very promise of long days might have brought thee to Obedience. But alas, this was the lowest of my thoughts, the least of my cares. I desired in mine Heart to be the Master of an estate before Nature would allow me it. I took my portion, and went away into a far Country. And there I played the rioter, till I became a miserable Beggar. Then, and never till then did I consider what I had done. For by this time had I forgot my Father's House: So long and so sweetly had I been ●ulled in the Lap of Sin. But having now reaped the fruits of my Disobedience, I begun to have a remorse of Conscience: and to have some small sensible feeling of repentance. But never till such time as I had fed freely of those empty husks of vanity: and found myself so miserably poor as if I returned not back to my Father's House, I might of necessity perish, there were no remedy. Nay, I must to my shame confess it, that such was my disobedience, and so crooked my will amidst my greatest necessities, that this my aversion from evil and conversion to good, rather proceeded from want of means than sincerity of will. For had my Portion continued, the arm of Sin had been nothing shortened. And yet had my want brought me to this natural consideration; as to think with myself what Parents were; What benefits I had received from them: how they had done for me what I could never possibly do for them. How Creatures endued only with sense by a natural instinct, bore that tender love and obedience to their Parents; as in their age they fostered them: on their wings they carried them: desiring rather that they themselves should perish, than their Parents suffer, which gave a being unto them. 
Ciril. Basil. Homil. 8. & 9  But these Considerations only floated upon the Waters of mine heart, they never sunk. A natural proneness to obey the Lusts of my Flesh, hung such heavy poizes on the Wings of my Obedience, as they kept me from mounting: desiring rather to die then wholly to leave my rebellion. Thus was I never weary of transgressing, till my transgressions became weary of me. Neither was I sensible of what disobedience meant: till I was brought to a Consideration of it through want. Woe is me! How could I promise to myself length of days, when I had disseised myself of that promise by my disobedient ways? How could I be less than rejected of my Father in Heaven; who had borne myself so disobediently to my Father on Earth? How could I look for an inheritance, falling so desperately into all disobedience?  O my dear Lord, to whom Obedience is better than Sacrifice; call me now home unto thee! Let me no longer run on in my rebellious Course. Like a Child that feareth to be beat, let me tremble at thy judgements. Like a Child that flieth into his Father's lap, let me kiss thee for thy mercies. Correct me, 
Aug. Med. 39  O Lord, but not in thine anger, for how shall I stand in thy displeasure? O I know, as there is no Son, whom a Father will not correct with the rod of his love: so is there no Father who has not a desire to deliver his Son. Correct me, O Lord, as thou art my Saviour: oh let it never be in thine heavy displeasure.  

CHAP. 18. His contempt of the Second, in his practising mischief against his Neighbour.  
ONe may commit murder, and shed no blood. The very thoughts of our hearts may become Conspirators against our Neighbour, and so we murder him in our desires. Cain slew his brother Abel, which made him turn Runagate, by flying from God's presence. O how often have I stain my brother in conceiving cruel thoughts, which reflected upon his life, fame and substance? O how often have I in mine heart wished a sudden end unto mine Enemy! And yet I was persuaded, he was not well prepared for death when I wished this unto him; so as my desires were bend to murder him both in soul and body, by wishing him so sudden and unprepared a death in his departure from the body. Yea, I will confess against myself, and with much bitterness of heart, will I acknowledge it; that neither rich nor poor have been freed from those murdering imaginations, which my corrupt heart had secretly nursed. For if he were rich, I murdered him with Envy. And in this act, not only him, but myself. Wasting and eating up my own marrow: consuming my own strength, and falling away with a languishing desire of others ruin. Again, were he poor; I to my power murdered him: by holding from him the staff of bread, when I might have relieved him: by grating and grinding the face of the needy: by oppressing him injuriously: by laying heavier burdens on him than he could bear. O how can I remember these, and sink not down with the horror of them? Can I think, that just God who hears the Orphans cry, and bottles up the Widow's tears, will not avenge himself of these things? Can he tender his little ones, & not revenge himself of those who make a prey and spoil of his little ones? O no, my Lord, I know my guiltiness is not hid from thee: Nay, I know well thou hast thy Bow ready bent, and thine Arrows in thy Quiver to shoot at the malicious and evil doer, even at him that is of a subtle and deceitful heart. How then may I make my peace with thee? How may I find favour in thy sight? what shall I be able to answer for myself against those my many Accusers? While here one proves how I sought his life: and with many bitter imprecations discovered my malice unto him. Another accuseth me with impeaching his good name, that precious perfume of every good man. The third of his Substance, saying that my wishes were often that he might be rest of it, or it of him: or that I myself might enjoy it with the loss of him. Thus like a cruel and bloody Nimrod, have I hunted for blood: And though I did not actually shed it, yet in desiring it, and not seeking where I might to prevent it, I cannot plead less then that I am guilty of it. Now my fact is so foul, that should I with the poor condemned Prisoner, demand my Book, I could not hope to have the benefit of it; yet there is a Book, wherein I have read what may afford me much comfort by it: At what time soever a sinner doth repent him of his sin from the bottom of his heart, I will put away all his wickedness out of my remembrance, saith the Lord.  
It is the Lord that hath said it, even he, who as he is gracious in his promise, so is he faithful in his performance. Hence is my trust; that though my sins be as red as scarlet; the blood of the Lamb will make them white. Though my garments be all red as those who came from Bosro: my Saviour has in store a white robe for me. As white as the snow of Salmon shall my soul be made, though she be now soiled with the leprosy of sin. Yea, but dangerous wounds require longer cures. My afflicted conscience tells me that I have grievously sinned against his sacred Majesty, both in quantity and quality. I have not had God before mine eyes: the paths of righteousness were estranged from me. Those sins which with such greediness I had committed, had sent forth their cry to the clouds: they were of no inferior nature, but suchas derogated highly from the honour of my Maker. What may I then expect, but that those Viols of his wrath should be poured forth even to the bottom: if he did not look upon me with his eye of fatherly compassion?  It is true, my dear Lord, it is true; No sinner ever exceeded me in number and nature: yet coming to thee with an humble contrite heart, receive me, loving Father, for one of thine. Though my sins might justly make a partition wall betwixt my soul and thee my sweet Spouse, for ever; yet hast thou promised to be a Saviour to every penitent sinner. O Lord look upon me in thy mercy, for my soul is sore vexed within me!  

CHAP. 19 His Contempt of the Third, in playing the Wanton.  
IS it time to feast, and play the Wanton, when the Flood is coming? Every hour ushers me to my Grave, yet am I still far off from receiving the motions of Grace. Woe is me, that my Dalilah has robbed me of my strength! What a long time of youth did I lead; as if that Spring would ne'er have done? How strongly, nay how strangely have I been taken with a whorish behaviour; as if there had been no well-beseeming beauty but what was accompanied by impudence? How often have I taken delight in the countenance of a strange woman? How desirous have I been to take; how ready to be taken? That Belcone could not open, nor in her opening discover the feature of a woman, which my wanton eye did not fix on. Forbidden fruit and stolen waters were ever sweetest. Lightness had got such possession of me, as were it in action or discourse, there was nothing which took mine ear more, or made the hour less tedious. I had read how that the Adulterer and Whoremonger God would judge. How, that the pleasure of fornication was short, but the punishment of the Fornicator eternal. And sometimes I had the grace to consider with myself what thing this Eternity was? And the more I begun to consider it, the further I was from it: yet I found it to be such a thing as admitted no end: and yet I unfortunately made a forfeiture of it for a moment's pleasure. Pleasure shall I call it? no; that cannot be properly called a pleasure but a torture, which dams the soul for ever. I found the deceitfulness of this sin: with what resolves I made hourly, to become a true and unfeigned Penitent, never to return to my vomit. I considered how a continent soul was the precioust treasure; how God would not dwell in that heart that was infected with this sin. All this I applied to my heart; but alas, how long did it remain uncorrupt? No sooner was there an occasion of temptation offered, than my vain heart quite forgot what she had resolved. The thought of Eternity was presently choked with an hapleste desire of enjoying what was lighter than vanity. Woe is me that any reasonable soul should be so deluded! That neither the promises of a better life, nor the shame of this present life could decline me from working such iniquity! I found how all bread was sweet unto the Adulterer. How none was more estranged from his love, than whom he was bound most to love. Thus I perished with open eyes: for I knew well how the Harlot would bring a man even to a morsel of bread. How her paths were full of deceit; and how her footsteps led unto death. And I understood how there was nothing to be compared to a virtuous Woman, and what felicity I enjoyed in such a Choice. With what pious Obsequies I solemnised her Funerals; whom I once enjoyed: with what purposes I entertained to remain a constant Widower, after such time as I was deprived of her. Yet, though ripeness of years had nipped in me the blossoms of of youth: nay, though age had writ deep furrows in my brow, yet found I youth enough in my doting fancy. For I am ashamed to think with what an unbeseeming lightness I encountered a strange face. How soon I could gather by the wand'ring motion of her eye, the disposition of her heart. Thus in my declining age begun I to renew my acquaintance with light love: and to practise that which did least become me. So dangerous is the custom of sin, when it has taken full seazure, or possession of the soul.  O my sweet jesus, cleanse me from my secret sins; and give me grace to remember these things with heaviness of heart: Let me go all the day mourning: and with tears of hearty contrition, move thy tender heart to compassion. O cure this bloody issue of my sin! apply unto my bleeding wounds a present cure: As thou looked upon Magdalen, and made her an holy Saint of an heinous sinner: so look upon me with the eye of pity, that I may find thee in the day of my visitation. a gracious Saviour.  

CHAP. 20. His breach of the Fourth, in his cunning defeating of his Neighbour.  
MY conscience hath ofttimes told me, and woe is me that I remembered it not; how there were many other kinds of Theft, besides purloining, or imbezling of my Neighbour's goods. In defeating him of what was due unto him: nay, in finding what I knew to be his, and not restoring it unto him; this, even this convinced my conscience of guilt, and that I was a Robber of him. These seem but light sins; and of such easy digestion, as they seem no sins at all. But these must not be forgotten, for they are writ in his Book with a pen of steel, and are not to be wiped away but with the soft Sponge of his mercy.  
I have often thought, out of the foolishness of mine heart, that privily to take away, or defeat any one of small toys or trifles, as I accounted them, was no sin, because they were of small or no weight: whereas if I had known the quality of sin aright, I would have confessed that it was not the value of the thing, but the intention of the heart that made the sin. It skils not much, whether the substance be vile or precious, which is unjustly procured, 
Bern. Med. 11.  or injuriously required, so as the affection be to either of these equally corrupted. Though they be of different damage in respect of him from whom they are taken, yet bring they equal detriment to him, by whom they were taken. O with what sighs, with what tears did that devout Father bewail his breaking into an Orchard, 
Aug. in Confess.  though he was then a Boy, and therefore pardonable? These are now so easily dispensed with, as they are held but tricks of youth. But he could cry forth, in the anguish of his spirit, I have had a desire to perish, O Lord, I have had a desire to perish. O how the sense of sin makes the least seeming sin appear heavy? O what may I think of myself, who have gloried in these things! A grain of sand though it be light, yet much sand laid together will press us. And a drop of water though it be light, yet many waters gathered together may drown us. O what heaps of sins (and those no small sands) have I raised, with those Giants, as if they had been Mounts to menace heaven? So I might cunningly make a prey of the poor; and colour my sin with fair pretences. I had mine end, farther I sought not. It was the eyes of men that I feared, I took no compassion of others misery; neither were mine eyes on him, who is the Avenger of the poor and needy. I perceived likewise in these Tents of Kedar, where I was too long a Sojourner; how there were other thefts and of an higher nature, being such as stepped up boldly to the Altar? And these were simoniacal Contracts: and I understood how no thefts were like these holy thefts for gain, nor yet detected of less guilt. Conscience was made a thing of equivocation. Rich Donations, according to their name, seemed to be given, but they were sold; and that so cunningly, as if the Conscience had been as senseless of sin, as Man was of himself, it might have passed with impunity. And in the perusal of these, me thought I could have brooked well to have been sharer: but in these I was no actual offender, though much against my will, for I was no impropriator. In impairing likewise, the fruits and offerings of the Church, I had a desire to have an hand, albeit I knew this to be taxed for a great offence by the Prophet, and such as God did highly hate. 
Malac, 3.8.  Will any man (saith he) rob God? yet ye have robbed me: but ye say, wherein have we robbed thee? In tithes and offerings.  
Whence he straight chargeth them to bring all manner of tithes unto his store-house, 
9  that there may be meat in his house. By this I understood, that there was a Snare to the Man, who devoured that which was holy. 
Prov. 20.25.  Yet while the Snare was in readiness, I went on in my wickedness. When I saw a Thief, I run with him; nay, before he practised that trade, I could tell him; that, as to dig would be a toil, and to beg a shame; so to take where opportunity gave way, would show a brave spirit. Thus was it not sufficient for me to perish alone, without drawing others into the same gin. My life became their line, which being crooked, brought them to as untimely an end. Thus did I see, and seeing fall, and falling bring others to be sharers in my fall.  O my gracious Redeemer, as thou looked with the eye of pity upon the good Thief; as thou rewarded his late conversion, and short confession with the promise of a Paradise, a place of endless consolation; vouchsafe to cast thine eye upon me and save me. The Kingdom of Heaven suffereth violence; let it be my holy theft to lay hand upon it: to suffer all things for it; that as thou suffered'st all torments to procure me it, so I by suffering with thee, and for thee, may enjoy thee in it.  

CHAP. 21. His breach of the Fifth, in suppressing testimonies to witness a truth, or suborning witnesses to maintain an untruth.  
NEver was there sin of higher quality, that admitted more impunity. Whereas I might have performed an office of Christian charity, in giving testimony before a Magistrate to settle my Neighbour's estate; or in clearing his good name; or in vindicating his cause from a powerful injurious Adversary: were it in myself or any other, I have laboured to suppress the testimony; closed with the worse party; and so for mine own ends strengthened an injury. Or if this failed, being so well practised in evil, I would not stick to suborn witnesses to maintain an untruth: and by false oaths to suppress a truth. And yet I thought with myself, who could be safe, if such hateful Agents could be safe? if it were sufficient to accuse, who would be found innocent? yet whether it were for gain or spleen, or to purchase a powerful friend; Truth must be out-countenanced, because private ends were made to bear it.  
The excellent speech of that Heathen might have wrought much on me, for it well deserved to be ever printed in my memory; who, when his friend came unto him, desiring him to take a false oath in a cause of his which highly concerned him, made answer: you must, said he, bear with me, I cannot shake hands with truth so easily. There are many friends to be gotten if I lose you: 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  but if by forswearing myself I lose the favour of God, I cannot get another, there is but one God.  
I had heard of the fearful judgements likewise of many false Accusers, suborned witnesses, and hateful Suborners, what miserable ends befell them; how they were discarded from the company of all good men; how they were to wear some badge or mark of distinction, that every one might know them, and knowing abhor them. Yet was this path so much bette, as I could not but think, that there was some gainful thing in it, or else it would not be so much frequented. And the common Road was ever held the nearest and securest. And so indeed, I found it; the nearest to destruction: and so little safe by being secure as my security brought me to the brink of perdition.  
Indeed I took occasion sometimes to talk with myself (whom I ever found my greatest foe) and by communing with mine own heart, to sift & search myself thoroughly how I stood affected. And even in the breach of this Commandment I thus reasoned. Tell me, Pilgrim, dost thou know what in this case thou oughtest to do; and shall the follicitancy of a powerful friend prevail so far with thee, as to bring thee to do what thou oughtest not to do? Hast thou not to do? Hast thou not a friend within thee, whose favour thou art to prefer before all friends without thee? And will not this dear bosom friend of thine, think much, that either for love, hatred, dread or reward, thou shouldst despise her, nay sell her; and by this means make thy nearest friend thy Accuser? And I begin to inquire what friend this might be! And I found right soon how it was no other than my Conscience; who, howsoever I bore myself to her, would deal faithfully with me; and justly as I had deserved at her hands, either accuse or excuse me. This was likely enough to have wrought some good effect upon me; but alas, worldly respects made me forget my best friend. So as she, who should have stood in the gate, and spoken for me, is now become mine Enemy.  
Sweet jesus, thou, against whom so many false witnesses stood up, to condemn thee; vouchsafe to be a witness for me, that I now hate what sometimes I so unhappily loved; and intent to love what I sometimes undeservedly hated. To witness a truth, were it for my deadliest Foe: and to suppress an untruth, were it to the prejudice of my dearest Friend.  
Dear Lord, be thou my defender against the Devil, my great Accuser!   

CHAP. 11. His disesteem of the sixth and last, in coveting what was an others; and desiring to increase his own with the loss of others.  
FOolish wordling, thine own experience had not long since told thee, and thou mightst have remembered it, had not thy folly so deluded thee; how touching the world, he had the least part in it, who had the most of it. Again, he had the most command over it, who with most indifferency used it. To love it, was to be drowned in it: to leave it, was bravely to neglect it, and in that neglect amply to be supplied by it. Where as such as be worldly, are ever labouring of a Dropsy. The richer they are in estate; the hotter they are in pursuit. These see, and yet they will not credit their own sight, what a very small portion of Earth must suffice them! How their thirsty and unbounded desires must be then brought to a straight, a very straight compass! And these things I oft times considered; wondering much at the vanity of men; that knowing how their mouths were to be filled with gravel, how any thing could in reason be so dear unto them, which should choke them.  
And yet casting mine eye upon myself; 
Bern. Med. 17.  I found very well how I was one of this List. One that could scatter his own like a prodigal rioter: and catch at an others like a covetous Miser. One that could be content that his Neighbour's providence should maintain his riot. One that had a dangerous leering eye after his Neighbour's Wife; or more than a month's mind to his maid; or to such a parcel of ground which lay fitting for him; or to some of his cattle; and these, even any of these, could he find in his heart to enjoy without returning satisfaction for them.  
It is true, very true, that the Story of Ahab is old in respect of time, but new in respect of daily practice. Every day shall we find an Ahab borne; every day a Naboth die. His Vineyard must occasion a breach betwixt him and his Landlord. He must forego it, or lose his life that owes it. The anger of a Great man is violent. His will is his Law: his inferior must bend or break. If the plot lie near him, it becomes an eyesore to him. He will either buy it, or come any way by it that he may enjoy it. O how can I utter this without remorse? How may I endure myself when I hear these things? These are they which wound me, for like poisonous Arrows they stick in my flesh; neither can I answer one for a thousand. How strong have been my desires in shedding my own blood? What days have I spent in careful carking, painful toiling? What nights in cunning compass, watchful contriving how I might come by my purpose? These cares made sleep many nights a stranger to mine eyes. And yet this my affliction seemed sweet unto me; such was the strength of an enured misery. O my Soul, how tedious would one of these hours have seemed, had it been employed in casting about for that inheritance which shall never perish! Alas! what could I imagine, that this earthly Tabernacle of mine should never be dissolved? That my indirect ways should never be brought to judgement? That God had forgotten the poor; and that he would not revenge their wrongs to my shame? yes. Lord I considered this, and the more my sin: for I sought to put away thy judgements far from my memory; not to think of them lest they should startle me. Thus was their doctrine dear unto me, who sought to sow pillows under my elbow. To fatten me in my transgressions, with a tush God seeth not. But, O Lord, holy and just, thine eye is ever over me: and thine care is not shut from me; nor from those who cry for vengeance against me.  
This it is which causeth me to walk heavily all the day long; to chatter like a Craine: and with much affliction of spirit to pour forth my complaint to thee my Lord and my God. O when I remember, how cunningly I sought to wind me into the acquaintance of my Neighbour; how smoothly I glozed with him; what courtesies I offered him, merely to surprise him, & make myself a gainer by him! how I seemed to esteem least, what I prized most, that so my practices might be suspected less! How I could easily dispense with any indirect way, so I might by it be brought to mine own end! How I neglected no time to fit mine own turn! O while I remember these things, I am utterly cast down; there is no breath in me; my flesh faileth me; and my strength decayeth within me. For I know, Lord, how thou hast these things in thy remembrance; and if thou deal with me according to thy justice, there is no hope for such an incorrigible Sinner; he is lost, he is lost for ever. And yet, Lord, there was a little Zacheus, whom thou called'st from the Receipt of Custom; and, no doubt, who knew the World, and how to make gain in the World; who left his Calling for thee; climbed up into a Figtree to see thee: and came down speedily from thence to receive thee: and that he might more fully confirm his love unto thee, divided his goods, that he might wholly reserve himself for thee.  O deal so with me, my sweet Saviour, that of a Covetous Sinner I may become a true penitent Convert, in bestowing the small remainder of my days to thine honour.  

CHAP. 23. He takes a view of those Seven Spiritual works of mercy: and acknowledgeth his failings in each of them.  
THou hast taken now a full view of those two Tables, delivered by God unto Moses; by him to us. And thou canst not, to thy great grief, find one, the breach whereof may not justly accuse, nay convict thee. Go on yet a little further, and thou wilt find thyself ever worse and worse. Tell me, dost thou hope to receive mercy? Thou dost well to hope; for without hope, the heart would break: but what hast thou done that might become so acceptable in his sight, as may bring thee in a full hope or assurance of receiving this mercy at his hands? Thou know'st well, that we are to work out our salvation with fear and trembling: That, not unto him that cryeth, Lord, Lord, but for him that doth the will of his Father which is in Heaven, is the place of bliss prepared. For if works be the fruits of faith; to make a fruitful faith thou shouldst apply thyself to be plenteous in good works. Thou knowest, how the barren Fig tree became accursed; how the barren Womb in the old Law was held accursed. The Pharisees Prayer, because it bore more leaves than fruit, was rejected. The Publicans Prayer because it bore more fruit than leaves was accepted. Love is the fulfilling of the Law. Now, what argument is there of the love we bear him: if we have not a longing desire to do that which may please him? The proof of our love unto God is to do such works as are acceptable unto God. Now, he has already told thee, what Works may best suit thee: and such as may move him to take most delight in thee. And these are those Seven works of Mercy. Now, take a little time, before time leave thee, to examine thyself impartially; what a kind of proficient thou hast been in these. Whether thou hast not so carelessly borne thyself towards God in performing them, as thou mayst worthily acknowledge thy failings in each of them.  O Lord open thou mine heart: and give me understanding in all things: let me open mine heart unto thee, and pour myself forth before thee: and suffer me not to flatter myself in my transgressions, lest I perish eternally. Thou hast prepared me the ways wherein I am to walk: O Lord make my ways straight before thee: and so water me with the dew of thy grace, that I may bring forth fruits of repentance plenteously.  

CHAP. 24. Teaching the ignorant.  
BRing forth that Scholar whom thou hast brought up in Christ's School. Whom hast thou fed with the milk of his word? Whom hast thou seen carried away with the blast of every vain doctrine, and hast sought to reclaim him? whom hast thou at any time perceived to be ignorant in the principles of faith, and hast taken pains to inform him? whom scismatically affected, and thou laboured to convert him? whom seditiously minded, and thousought to compose him? Hast thou taken pity of thy Brother's ignorance, and brought him to a knowledge of God and himself with the spirit of meekness? Nay, hast thou taught thine own family: and by thine own example wained them from folly? O no, poor Pilgrim, these things have been far from thee. It is for thee rather to confess, how many from the light of the Gospel, thou hast brought into ignorance. How many thou hast deceived with a pretended zeal. How many thou hast brought from the knowledge of the truth, by entangling them in errors; false opinions; strange doctrines. O how many have come unto thee to receive instruction from thee; or to be satisfied in some scruple, wherein thou mightst have done an office of charity, if it had pleased thee: whilst thou, regardless of those wounds of a troubled conscience; either applied no cure at all unto them: or else uncharitably left them entangled in more doubts than thou found'st them. And was this the way to teach the ignorant: in corrupting rather then correcting the delinquent? In perplexing rather then resolving the truly Penitent?  O my best Master, look down upon me with the eye of thy favour? I know well I might have brought many unto thee, which by my loose life, and false doctrine I have drawn from thee. O teach me thy Law, that I may not only learn it myself, but teach others by the pattern of myself, to love, live and delight in it.  

CHAP. 25. Correcting the delinquent.  
AS it is humility first to examine one's self: so is it charity to correct in an other, whatsoever he holds corrigible in himself. God's Law is the Glass, which will present to us every blemish that is upon the face of our soul. Wherein, we are ever charitably to consider, and acknowledge too, that whatsoever troubles our Brother's eye, is but a mote, compared to that beam which is in our own. But say, unprofitable Pilgrim, wherein hast thou done this Second spiritual work of Mercy, to Correct the delinquent? Nay, rather hast thou not cherished him in his sins: and told him they were none, when as they pierced the clouds, and came up with a strong voice even into the presence of God? Hast thou not blessed the wicked in his evil ways: and moved him to make a league with his transgressions? Yes, Lord, yes; yet not unto all, have I done this. For some there be whom I have corrected, nay censured rather than corrected. For my desire was to have their sins published to their shame; to have their good names taken away; to have them houted at in the street, which tasted more of detraction, than correction. For this I did not with the spirit of meekness, as I was commanded: but with the spirit of fury or indignation, which brought them to be rather hardened in sin then reform. But I must confess, I offended far oftener in the former then in the latter. I mean in humouring sin; either to make me more endeared to them: or else for fear lest the very like sins should be found out and reproved in me by them. So as my own guilt made me to palliate their sin.  Dear Lord, I know well I have often sinned herein: I have stood in fear to reprove the transgressions of others, and therefore became I Author of their death: because that poison which by crying against, I might have expelled, I have not expelled: in humouring those which I should have corrected. Nay, what was more: I conceived indignation, against all such as reproved me for my vices: so as, those have I hated, whom I ought to have loved: and whatsoever distasted or displeased me, I desired earnestly that they should not be. O forgive me these. And make me henceforth such an Enemy to all vices, as I may correct myself with an impartial sharpness: Others with the spirit of compassion and meekness.  

CHAP. 26. Counselling the indigent.  
Counsel to the poor and needy, is as a receipt unto the sick, in the time of his extremity; what avails a Medicine unapplyed; Physic unministred; or counsel un-imparted? I have known such as were destitute in this kind; how with tears in their eyes they importuned my advice: and I had it in readiness, but would not minister it: because he was poor and despicable in the eye of the world, that besought it. And alas, was this the cause? Hadst thou been well advised, thou wouldst rather have given it, because he was poor and succourless that did request it. For consider thy own poor condition (hardhearted Pilgrim) and in what case thou standest. How thy good and gracious God, should he not look down upon thee with the eyes of his mercy, and take pity on thy poverty, what might become of thee? Into what straits has thy soul been brought? how dry, & desolate? how weak and disconsolate have been thy staggering resolves? How fainting and heartless have been thy hopes? Foes thou hadst without thee, fears within thee; not the least beamling of comfort shone upon thee. Yet for all this, thou foundst a faithful Counsellor to advise thee; a gracious Comforter to refresh thee. And yet thou quite forgotst all this, when thou sawest thy brother in necessity. He complained to thee how he was wronged, and it lay in thine hand to redress it, but thou wouldst not be seen in it. Thy Counsel at least thou mightst afford it, but thou denied him it: or which was worse, so advised him in it, as might rather hinder then further him in the pursuit of it.  Gracious Lord, in whose breast are laid up all the treasures of knowledge and wisdom: and from whom are all the Counsels of the wise; direct me in the ways of life; remove from me the ways of death. Give me a soft and meek spirit, that I may use all good means to bring home those that are wand'ring; to strengthen those that are standing. To help the succourless: comfort the comfortless: and to afford my best Counsel unto all, according to their several necessities. O my dear Lord, pardon me for the neglect of this duty, and make me to redeem the time with a cheerful constancy.  

CHAP. 27. Comforting the afflicted.  
AS Affliction is the means to bring man to the knowledge of himself; so gives it occasion of trying the Charity of an other. Who is he, that was afflicted, and I comforted him not? Now answer, poor Pilgrim, if thou canst, to this Intergatorie. Hast thou at any time applied comfort to the afflicted? nay, rather hast thou not rejoiced in his affliction: or with one of jobs miserable Comforters, increased his affliction? Hast thou played the part of the Levite or Samaritan, when thou foundst him wounded? Didst thou pour the balm of thy best comfort into him? Didst thou support him in his weakness? Solace him in his heaviness? O no! though before the time of his affliction I professed myself his friend: and upon all occasions would be near him: yet when he fell from what he was, I shrunk from what I professed; my countenance begun to be changed towards him: And was this to comfort the Afflicted? was this to bind up his wounds? was this performing the office of a friend? Did I to this afflicted soul, as I desired to be done unto? Had I not sometimes felt the bitterness of an afflicted spirit; even in mine own bowels? And then I roared out- O— a troubled spirit who can heal? And yet God in his due time comforted me, expecting that the like should be done by me. But no sooner was I set on my feet, than my corporal cure stripped me of all spiritual care, I drunk wine in bowls, and applied mine ear to the sound of the Harp; I stretched myself on beds of Ivory, fattening myself with the delights of vanity, but never sorry for the Affliction of my brother joseph.  O my dear Lord, deal not thus with me, for I perish, if thou turn away thy face from me. I have been in heaviness, and thou didst comfort me; bring me to a fellow-feeling of an others misery: that I may mourn with those that mourn, and partake with them in their affliction: for so shall I receive comfort in the day of my visitation.  

CHAP. 28. Suffering injuries patiently.  
I Have often thought with myself, how I never more nearly resembled my Saviour, than that very day wherein I became a sufferer. And yet so strongly had flesh and blood wrought upon me, as I found nothing more hard to digest then an injury. I left my Pattern, and run into the world: Where I found revenge playing her part, crying, No peace, no peace. And I became one of her Followers. Offences received I weighed above their quality; but done, I could lessen them smoothly. So partial a Friend was I to myself; so violent a Foe unto others. We usually account that beast the strongest, that can bear the greatest burdens: mean time, we hold him the weakest that has a back to bear the greatest injuries. But alas, what matter makes it what foolish flesh account him! He is not for God's presence, who will not possess his soul in patience. And canst thou speak this, proud Pilgrim, and not tremble? Dost thou call to mind what unsufferable dishonour the Lord of lords suffered for thy sake? what mockings, what spittings, what buffet, what whip, what reproachful torments he suffered that thou mightst be free? yet what did his innocence answer for itself but in silence? And yet for all this, thy blood must be inflamed, if the least occasion of distaste be offered; thy reputation cannot bear it; thy spirit must not so be baffalt.  
Poor passionate worm, what a stir is this thou makest with thyself? pray thee tell me, who made thee thine own revenger? O do not rob him who made thee, of what is due unto him, and what is estranged from thee! Oh, but this Revenge has been no stranger to me. That day nor night passed not over me, wherein she kept me not company: and with her pressing urged me to requite an injury. She dictated to me what a disgrace it was for a man of quality to bear an affront from any: how these would live, when I were dead, and leave an aspersion on my Grave. These, and such as these made me forget God: and to take out of his hand what was due unto him.  
O thou avenger of the needy, raiser of the humble, and puller down of the Mighty; let it be never said of me, that I have sought to rob thee of thy glory. Revenge is thine, and thou wilt repay it. Be it so, Lord; and may he be taken in his own snare who seeks to prevent thee in it.  
O may the presence of my crucified Saviour, make me become a patient sufferer.   

CHAP. 29. Forgiving Offences heartily.  
What a dangerous thing the Memory is, when made a Reteiner of injuries! This caused that noble Heathen to desire rather how to learn the art of forgetfulness than the art of Memory; because he remembered more things (meaning of offences done him) which he desired to forget, than ever he forgot what he desired to remember. This very case is mine: I have suffered, but not comparably to what I have made others suffer. I held the offences done me so unsupportable, as they were above the power of flesh and blood to bear. Reconciled I would not be unto death; for death I pretended easy to such an injury. So as, though by continuance of time, and interceded of friends, I might seem in some sort to cool; all that their persuasions could bring me to was this: I would forgive him, but never forget him. I would ever have an eye on him: nay, rather if I at any time met him, I would ever have mine eye from him. My heart was not with him. Neither could I with patience (such was my malice) speak unto him. And was this to forgive offences heartily? O how could I look upon the Image of God in him; and forget myself so much towards him, as not to vouchsafe to cast a good countenance upon him? Vile wretch, what might become of thee, if God in his justice should so deal with thee! was there ever offence done by the most professed enemy, that may be compared to those which we daily do to his divine Majesty? O no! How is it then? Must he both forget and forgive; and thy rancour such, as thou wilt only forgive but not forget? O pour thyself forth into a Sea of tears; be so far from not forgiving offences when thine enemy does beg it; as thou dost heartily forgive him before he beg it.  Dear Lord, this I resolve to do; but weak are my resolves if they be not assisted by thee; O give me then in these holy motions such constancy, as in the remembrance of thy love unto me, I may forget offences heartily: and so receive remission of my sins at thine hands in the day of mercy.  

CHAP. 30. Praying for his Persecutors fervently.  
THis Lesson was taught me by my Saviour, when amongst others he suffered for me the worst of all others. When the fears of death encompassed him; when nothing but sorrow and heaviness accompanied him; even then, when his Persecutors deserved least, showed he his charity most. Father forgive them, for they know not what they do. Thus did he excuse them from malice, imputing all they did unto ignorance: so full of compassion was he, even in his greatest anguish. Now, resolve me, poor Pilgrim, wherein hast thou shown thyself an obedient Scholar to such a Master? wherein hast thou observed this Lesson? Hast thou prayed for them, who sought to make a prey on thee? Hast thou wished from thine heart, that he might ride on with honour, who sought thy dishonour? Nay rather, hast thou not cursed, where thou shouldst have blessed? Hast thou not reviled him who wronged thee: nor sought to impeach his fame who wrought mischief against thee? yes, yes unhappy Pilgrim; none could be more ready to inflict, than thou to requite. To pray for them, or to perform any office of charity in behalf of them; was so far from thine intention; as thou accounted it rather an act of weakness, than devotion.  Dear Father, this I consider: and with grief of heart confess myself herein a foul transgressor. Sweet jesus, thou who prayed for thine Enemies, teaching us to do the like for such as should persecute us, give me grace to do good to those who do evil unto me; to love those that hate me; to forgive those who trespass against me; to spare such as offend me: and to pray for all such as persecute me; and that with such fervency, as my prayer may be accepted in the time of their necessity.  

CHAP. 31. He takes the like view of those seven corporal works of Mercy; and acknowledgeth likewise his failings in each of them.  
FRom the view of those Spiritual Works of Mercy; in every one whereof thou hast found thine infinite failings, descend now, poor Pilgrim, to those corporal works of Mercy, necessarily required of every Christian, to make him of a bondman to sin, a Freeman and a Citizen. But alas I much fear me, that my desires have been so long allied to earth, nay laid in earth, as these Works of Mercy are estranged from my knowledge.  
Truth is, poor Pilgrim that I am, I have observed these Works neglected, with the reasons from whence such neglect proceeded. For, taking my Survey of all conditions: I found here one, who, priding himself in his youth, bestowed so much time in company, as he reserved no time to think of Works of Mercy.  
Another I found taken with his own beauty; who took such content in looking upon himself, as he had not one look to bestow upon his needy Brother. Another was so rich, and so devoted to that worldly Idol, as it was death to him to afford one crumb of comfort to relieve him that was distressed. Another, as one distrustful of God's providence, refused to perform all offices of charity, fearing his too much bounty might bring him to poverty. Another I might hear presuming of God's mercy; and flattering himself with— Tush God will be merciful. Though we should forget what he hath commanded us, he will not forget to perform what he hath promised us. Another seeing the whole world set on mischief; and how the simple and innocent were most scorned, to avoid the scorn of the fool, he scorns not to become such a fool as to follow the haunt of the wicked. Lastly, I might find an other of so soft and delicate a condition, as these Works of Charity were too sharp and full of austerity; this man would take no acquaintance of them, lest he might become enfeebled by them. And such as these in thy Survey on earth hast thou seen and observed; but pray thee, poor Pilgrim, all this while that thou observedst others, was there nothing thou couldst find in thyself? Sure I am, thou oughtest to have endeavoured with all thy power, and all thy knowledge to know thyself; for far better and more laudable had it been for thee to know thyself, then by neglecting and forgetting of thyself, to have known the course of the stars, 
●ern. Med. 5.  the strength of herbs, the complexion of men, the natures of all inferior creatures, with the experience and knowledge of all heavenly and earthly things. For better is a simple Swain than a proud Philosopher. I gather by thy own words, thou hast been a notable Observer: but wherein hast thou shown thyself an able Professor?  O my Lord, I know not what to answer. I stand at thy Bar, and have nothing to plead for myself. Only dear Lord, I must confess to my shame, I have sinned, I have sinned. Not one work of Mercy, but I have either wholly neglected, or not performed as thou hast commanded. O Lord, impute not my sins unto me, lest I perish everlastingly.  

CHAP. 32. Feeding the Hungry.  
THou hast heard read the parable of Dives and Lazarus; and thou condemned the hardheartedness of Dives, that rich Glutton; who, amidst those various dishes of his, would not afford some few Crumbs, some poor fragments from his well-furnished Table, to feed a poor hunger-starved Beggar: And upon review of that story, concluded him justly damned, for suffering his needy Brother to perish, while he surfeited: So as his very dogs might partake, what poor Lazarus could not get. Nay, this hungry Beggar received more curtsy from his dogs then from their Master: For they licked his sores, whereas from Dives he received no comfort, no succour.  
But now tell me, unhappy Pilgrim, may not I say to thee, as that Prophet said to David? Thou art the man. Didst thou never see thy poor necessitous Brother hungry, but thou hadst compassion of his poverty? Didst thou go to thy Cruse to refresh him with oil: or to thy Barrel, to make him a Cake, that he might walk in the strength thereof, and not die? Nay rather, hast thou not suffered him to cry at thy gates, till his very bowels earned within him; and thou wouldst not hear him? Hast thou not bestowed more liberally upon the proud Actor, then on thy poor Brother? Nay, hast thou not sown so lavishly thine ill-bestowed fortunes upon the Brothel or Stage, as thou hast left nothing to give to the poor man's box? Hast thou not suffered some of Christ's own Members to perish for want of food? And didst thou not understand, how so many as thou suffered thus to be starved, when thou mightst relieve them, so many hast thou murdered, and thy blood shall answer for them.  O my Lord speak for me; for shall I say I have not done this? my Conscience will then accuse me, and say I am a Lyar. I confess, Lord, I confess, I have not fed the hungry: but rioted wantonly, fattening myself in mine own security. O give me henceforth a soft and compassionate heart: that I may truly suffer with my poor Brother in his necessity: and out of that store wherewith thou hast blessed me, ever reserve a portion for the hungry. I know Lord, that thou art the Avenger of the poor. For if Lazarus beg a Crum, and may not have it: Dives shall crave a drop, but not receive it. O cloth my soul with compassion, that she may avoid that fearful condition! Nay, I never see any hungry beggar, but take pity of him for his sake, whereof he is a Member.  

CHAP. 33. Giving drink to the thirsty.  
IT is wonderful thou shouldst not remember thy poor thirsty Brother with one cup of cold water, when thy cup flows over so plentuously, partaking of God's bounty in so ample a measure. Thy custom has been to rise early in the morning, and to gather thy Companions together, and to drink till your eyes grew red, and to put away far from you the evil day in jollity and pleasure. Mean time, those very Snuffs which your excess procured, would have been sweet drops to many poor thirsty souls, who for want of drink have fainted. O but I can guess why thou, who thus riotest in thy delights, decaying thine health with healths; art so forgetful of thy thirsty Brother. Deep drinkers are ever of the shallowest memories. But I must tell thee, that a day will come (and fearful will be that day) when, howsoever thou now with full cups and loose company removest these things far from thy memory: all these neglects, uncharitable neglects, shall be presented before thee. Then thou wilt find none with a light song to spend a serious hour. Sulphur and brimstone will be then an unsavoury potion: And yet this must be thy portion: because thou abused the good creatures of God; in bestowing them on wantonness, that might have ministered relief to others necessities.  Gracious Saviour, thou who in thine extreme thirst, hadst no better drink given thee then Gall and Vinegar, which when thou hadst tasted, thou wouldst not drink, perceiving the malice of the jews to be such, as it raged even to thine end. Give me grace to remember the state of my thirsty Brother. To abhor all surfeiting and drunkenness: and to be helpful to the Saints, as well out of my scarcity as abundance.  

CHAP. 34. Harbouring the harbourless.  
THe Pilgrim's Harbour, is a Christians Honour. Mild Moses, loving Lot, faithful Abraham were excellent patterns of this duty. Some of these received Angels in the habit of Strangers. That charitable widow would have a bedstead for a Prophet. This I know well thou approvest, for even thyself art here a Pilgrim upon earth: sojourning up and down in this vale of misery; wholly harbourless, unless some take pity of thee. For the very best that lives here upon earth, has only a place of sojourning, no place of abiding. We come unto our Inn, and the next morning we are gone. But let me return to thee; and now in good sadness tell me, hast thou to thy power performed this Office of charity? Hast thou received such poor harbourless Guests as came unto thee? Hadst thou a lodging for them, in the time of necessity? Tookest thou delight to confer with them; to minister what was needful unto them? was their sight dear unto thee, and that for his sake who made both them and thee? O no! me thinks thou hangs down thine head, as one who acknowledged himself guilty. Thou canst not find one of this sort, to whom thou hast shown this Work of Mercy. Others indeed, there are, to whom thou hast given free hospitality; entertaining them cheerfully: and enlarging thy bosom unto them in all offices of curtsy. But these were none of Christ's poor ones; These were none of his little ones. These were none that stood in need of any such favour. These, if their hearts would have served them, might as well as thyself have performed these good offices: and with a liberal hand supplied others necessities. And was this to harbour the harbourless? Christ himself was an example unto thee of great poverty: for whereas the Birds of the air had their nests, and the foxes their holes, yet had not he a place whereon to rest his head.  
Now think with thyself how memorable that work of Magdalen was, in pouring her box of precious ointment upon his head; how commendable that devout office of joseph of Arimathea was, in begging the body of our blessed Saviour; in embalming it, and bestowing it in a new Sepulchre; what an happy occasion little Zacheus had, in receiving him and giving him harbour. And if these were such good and acceptable Offices to the Head, they cannot choose but have their reward, being with a single and sincere heart done to his Members.  Dear Saviour, may it be mine honour to be hospitable to my poor harbourless Brother. For I know whatsoever I do to one of these little ones, I do it unto thee. And what can I do less then serve thee with thine own? For what have I that I have not received from thee? Be it then my Crown, to give harbour to those needful ones of thine which thou shalt vouchsafe to send unto me: may I lodge them in my bosom for the love I bear thee: but this I cannot do unless thou give me a liberal heart, that I may more plenteously abound in these good works of Charity.  

CHAP. 35. Clothing the naked.  
GO into thy Wardroabe (proud Pilgrim) and see if thou findest not there two Coats. Both these are not thine; thy naked Brother has a property in one of them. Bring it forth then unto him, and clothe him: for if thou keep it from him, and he perish, thou, and none but thou didst starve him. But this little moveth thee; so thou mayst observe the fashion: follow the vanity of the time, and pride thyself in these borrowed beauties, thou little carest how thy naked Brother fares. Change and Choice of raiments hast thou in store for thee: and these must be cut, slashed and indented: as if thy very Garment had committed some foul crime, and were for an Anatomy begged. Neither is there any hope that such light Minions as thou consortest with should take any pity of their naked Sister: having so little pity on their own naked breasts, laid open to wind and weather, to catch a deluded Lover. Good God; how much are the use of clothes inverted, from what they were first intended! For at first clothes were made to keep out accidental cold, and to hold in natural heat. Whereas now they are made to let in cold, and to keep out heat. O I must tell thee, delicate Pilgrim, that from top to toe if thou meet thy poor Brother destitute or unprovided, and thou hast in store to supply him, and yet dost deny him, thou art a false Brother in defeating him of what is due unto him. For that very Garment which thou sufferest to Moath-eate in thy Chest; those very shoes which thou sufferest to rot; are none of thine, but the shoes and Garment of thy poor Brother: yet rather than thou wilt render him what is due unto him, thou canst be well contented that they both rot together.  
And now tell me, base slime, what art thou, being in such precious Apparel trimmed, but a Sepulchre outwardly daubed, and inwardly withal corruption filled? But what shalt thou be in thy Grave, when thou art stripped of all that outward varnish and worthless grace, which made thee so seemingly complete on earth? Nay, what will become of thy poor Soul, that must then suffer for giving so much way to the pride of her Maid? What will she be able to answer, when her poor starved Brother shall come forth, and in the presence of an all-knowing judge, there witness against thee, how thou hadst Meat, & wouldst not feed him; Drink, and wouldst not refresh him; Lodging, and wouldst not harbour him; store of Raiments, and wouldst not clothe him?  O my sweet jesus, answer for me; for I am dumb. Thou hadst but one Coat, and it was without Seam, to signify thine unity: and for this did the Soldiers cast Lots, to discover their avarice or envy; put upon me the robe of Charity, that I may rather strip myself and become naked, then suffer any naked Member of of thine to go from my door unclothed.  

CHAP. 36. Visiting the Sick.  
THere can be no greater mercy shown in all those outward Works of mercy, then in this one which is exercised in the service or ministry about the Sick. For in this is both the hungry fed, and the thirsty refreshed. This receiveth Christ as if it had been done unto himself, when he hung upon the Cross, and said; 
Mat. 25.  I thirst, Whatsoever ye have done unto one of my little ones, ye have done it unto me. Likewise, ye cloth the naked, when ye cover the Sick. And ye harbour the harbourless, when ye make the Sick man's Couch ready for him to lie in. And ye visit the Prisoner, when ye comfort the Sick imprisoned by means of the bonds of his infirmity. Lastly, ye perform the pious office of burying the Dead, inclozing those days of his infirmity, with the discharge of so holy and solemn a duty. 
Humb. Sup. reg. B. Aug.  Thus by ministering to the Sick, we perform all these works of mercy. Yea, that this ministry unto the Sick, excelleth all other Works of mercy and devotion, may be thus proved. For in Works of austerity or religious discipline, we are said to serve God in the suffering of one Sense, or one Member. As in abstinence, we serve him, and suffer for him in our taste; in Watching, in our Sight; in course raiment; in our Couch; in Silence, in our Tongue, in loathsome stenches, in our smell, in doleful noise, in our Ears, and so of the rest. Whereas, in Works of charity in ministering to the Sick First, our Eye serves him, in watching over him; and sometimes in seeing fearful visions; in recompense whereof the glorious vision and divine Sight of God shall be shown unto Man in Heaven, for the Charity he bore to his Saints on Earth. Secondly, our Smell in feeling noisome stenches. Thirdly, our Ear, in hearing passionate words, groans, Sighs & extremities. Fourthly, our Touch, in handling and raising the Sick. Fiftly, our Taste, in abstaining from our usual repasts for their attendance. Sixtly, our Tongue, in comforting them. Seventhly, our Feet, in running up and down for them. Eightly, our whole Body, in labouring divers ways for them.  
Now, tell me, delicious Pilgrim (for I know a Work of such rigour has closed, harshly with thine humour) hast thou been ever in all thy time serious, in performing this holy duty? Nay; I see thee blush, and freely confess, when at any time thou camest into a spital or Lazarello; thine Eye could not endure the sight of an old Ulcer, nor thy smell that Savour; nor thine Ear their clamour; nor thy Touch any poor diseased Member. Nay, thou turned'st away thine Eye, thine Ear, nay, every Sense, lest they should offend the delicacy of thy Sense: who, though thou were't made of the same Mould, and subject to the like infirmities: yet were't thou so lightly touched with them, as thou either fleighted them, or with a cold endeavour Prayer, said God help them, without affording one small Crumme of comfort unto them.  O my dear Lord, I know all this to be true: and how can I expect that the Head should either love me or look upon me, when his Members were so loathed by me? O my good Samaritan, bind up this wound: and pour the Balm of thy saving Grace into it, that it rankle not. Give me a ready hand to minister to the Sick; a tender heart to compassionate his grief: in words to comfort him: in works to succour him, in all necessities to be helpful unto him.  

CHAP. 37. Visiting and redeeming the Captive.  
Dost thou desire to see such Sights as may rightly improve thee? Such as may bring thee to a more perfect view or discovery of thyself, lend me thine hand; and I will lead thee to such a place as shall do this; by presenting before thine eyes, an Image of of the World: and a Picture of thyself. An Image of the world shadowed in the Emblem of a Prison: and a Picture of thyself in the Emblem of a Prisoner. Look about thee, and thou canst not choose but find variety of Objects to put thee in mind of thy imprisonment. Bolts, Shackles, Fetters and Manacles. Sins of all sorts, spreading in every part or member of the body; to make thy bondage more miserably heavy. The ways of iniquity are those Bolts and Shackles, which needs must load thee: for what greater weight than the burden of iniquity? Thy Lusts and concupiscences are those Fetters and Manacles, which needs must restrain thee: for the too much freedom of thy body, has abridged thy Soul of her liberty, and confined her to live in lasting slavery.  
But look upon the Prisoner! Hast thou at any time with comfort in thy Mouth, and relief in thy Purse, come to visit him? Hast thou laboured with a part or portion of thine own Substance to redeem him? O no! with what a careless eye, stony heart, empty hand hast thou passed the very door of that Prison, where thy poor Captive Brother lay on the cold ground, comfortless, succourless, and more miserable in his lodging then if he were harbourless? thou hast heard in thy Father's days, how devoutly many Men and Women were disposed in distributing a great part of their estates, and freely bestowing it upon the redemption of one Captive: so dear unto them was the liberty of a Christian. But these are either hid from thine eyes: or what is worse, thou fallest with open eyes: for long may thy Brother joseph live imprisoned, before thou visit him; long time afflicted, before thou comfort him: long time enthralled, before thou redeem him.  Dear Lord, though I be a Prisoner and have quite forgot my condition; never so much as opening to my poor Captived Brother the bowels of my compassion; yet shut not thine ear from the voice of my Complaint. O my Lord, though I heard not them, hear thou me: and make me henceforth more ready to communicate to their necessity, for the love I bear thee. My whole life is a Captivity; O my joy, as thou hast redeemed me, so conduct me to my native Country. O how can I sing my Songs in a strange Land! yet my desire is to sing of thee: for in thy due time wilt thou give me a delivery out of all my troubles. Out of the depths will I cry unto thee, for thou hast had ever an Ear unto my misery.  

CHAP. 38. Burying the Dead.  
But sure thou wouldst not neglect this clozing duty, though thou camest short in performimg all other offices of charity. Thou hast taken so much pains as to bury thy dead Brother: for even the very Heathen have performed this with due solemnity one to another. Nay, even those, who all their life long were at deadly enmity, were it but only for Neighbourhood, would not be failing in this Christian duty. And yet thou canst speak little or nothing to it. For resolve me but in this one short question: Hadst thou never any poor Neighbour dying near thee: and that so poorly as his whole substance would not discharge his mortuary? Nay, hast thou not seen the very Corpses of thy departed Brother arrested, and uncharitably stayed; who, though he had paid his debt to nature, yet must receive no burial, till his poor Corpses has discharged his debt unto his Creditor? And hast thou sought to satisfy his hard hearted Creditor, that those due funeral rites might be performed to thy Brother? Nay, hast thou not even in the City, when a black Cloud of Pestilence hung heavily over it: when they fell on thy right hand and on thy left: when thou mightst behold the late-populous and freely-frequented Streets covered with grass: the very walls clothed with Mourning: hast thou not even then, I say, neglected this duty: seeking with powders and perfumes to put from thee the evil day: and in deep healths to drench down the remembrance of debt, death and danger: and with a forgetful Evening to close thy day's distemper? Nay, hast thou not been sometimes employed in Camp service; where the murdering Ordinance made no difference of persons: where nothing but fire and fury raged; nothing but slaughter & horror ranged; nothing but doleful voices of dying Souls resounded: while breathless Carcases lay here & there discatered, but un-interred: & didst thou play the good Centurion? didst afford thy charitable hand, after their Wars, to bring them with peace to their Graves? Didst thou perform these pious offices in any place, to purchase to thy Soul the glad promises of peace? O no! Thy care was for one; and so thou mightst secure that one, small care was taken for the rest. O how this self-love dries up the fountain of charity! O hadst thou but never so little lain aside this love to thyself; thou wouldst have shown more love unto thy Neighbour, and therein more true love to thyself!  
It is true, Lord, it is true; this love to myself made me forgetful of all others but myself. O lessen this love in me, that I may more plentuously increase in all offices of Charity! O give me a charitable hand, a cheerful heart; that I may henceforth have a care to see those holy duties performed, which I have so long time neglected. Be they Spiritual or Corporal, let their due discharge, be my Memorial. But, holy Father, first prepare me, that I may become better sitted for every distinct duty. As first in Spiritual duties, give me facility in Teaching the Ignorant; Affability in correcting the Delinquent; Ability in Counselling the indigent; charity in comforting the Afflicted; Resolution in suffering injuries patiently; Compassion in forgiving offences heartily; Devotion in praying for my Persecutors fervently. Likewise, in Corporal duties; Make me ready to feed the hungry; with that happy Samaritan, to give drink to the thirsty; with those good Patriarches, to harbour the harbourless and conduct them safely; with devout Dorcas, to clothe the naked and needy; with thee my best Master, to visit the sick, and if it lie in my power, to ease their malady; with courageous josiah, to visit & redeem those that are in Captivity; and with holy joseph of Arimathea, to bury the dead, with the performance of every other holy duty.  O my God, may my weary Pilgrim steps be so directed that they may daily draw nearer and nearer to Heaven, whereto they are addressed.  

CHAP. 39 With sorrow of heart he remembers those Eight Beatitudes, whereof he hath deprived himself, by giving entertainment to sin.  
Woe is me! what good thing may I expect from his hand that made me, when I have done none of those things for which he made me? If I look not into myself, I am wholly unknown to myself: and if I look into myself, I am not able to endure myself. I understand, and the more unhappy I, not to make use of his goodness towards me, how I could not partake with him in his Kingdom of glory, if I laboured not by a good and gracious life to imitate those blessed steps of his during my reside here in this vale of misery. And now with sorrow of heart, I remember, how and in what manner I have contemned all those holy duties formerly repeated: and consequently deprived myself; my poor neglected soul, bought at so high price, of all those Beatitudes, pronounced on such godly ones, as have walked before the Lord in uprightness of heart. Woe is me, what will become of me? when I shall take up my bed amongst Scorpions? when my dear Saviour, that victorious Lion of the Tribe of juda, shall demand of me what hast thou done? under whose Banner hast thou fought? if under mine, where be thy Colours? mine were red ones; died in my precious blood; my Crimson Wounds. But those thou wear'st are none of mine. They are more like the Enemies than mine. He can be no reteiner to me, who scorns to wear my livery. He cannot be my Disciple that will not follow me. And wherein hast thou followed me, unless it were to betray me? or to rob me of my glory? And such ever hath been the pursuit of all the Enemies of my Cross.  
Dear jesus, I appeal from thy Throne of justice to thy Seat of mercy. I must confess I have not followed thee as a faithful reteiner, but a back-sliding follower. Nay, I deserve martial Law, for I have fled from thy Colours: and become a Confederate with thy Enemies: yet, dear Lord, behold my tears, for thou accountest them precious when they are offered by a Contrite heart. O do not leave me, for my Soul longeth after thee: even as in a dry ground where no water is, so has she thirsted after thee.  
And now, Lord, that I may present myself before thee with more humility, I will ever set my imperfections before me: remembering what good I have omitted when I had opportunity to do it; again, what evil I have committed, when the remembrance of thy mercy might have declined me from it. Amongst which let me now call to mind those Blessings thy gracious goodness has pronounced to every faithful follower; and then examine myself, whether I deserve or no to be listed in that number.   

CHAP. 40. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.  
HVmility is the Path that leadeth to glory. There is no virtue that can subsist without it: This may be one reason why the very first Beatitude is grounded on it. But what are we to learn from hence? Not to be highminded; but of an humble and meek Spirit. In suffering dishonour, for the honour of our Saviour. In possessing our Souls with patience. In mitigating wrath with mildness. In relinquishing himself; in preferring others before himself. In judging well of others; but worst of himself. In wishing unto others, as to himself. In rejoicing in nothing but in the Cross of Christ: yet unfeignedly suffering with those who suffer for Christ.  
Now return and account, proud Pilgrim, whether there appear any tokens of this poor spirit in thee? Hast thou not ever retained a good opinion of thine own worthless worth? Hast thou not been of a Contentious spirit? Hast thou not answered reproach with reproach? Hast thou not been more ready in defending thine own honour; then advancing the honour of thy Saviour? Hast thou not been so far from possessing thy Soul in patience, as thou couldst not endure the least affront without much violence? Hast: thou with saft words mitigated wrath: Nay, hast thou never suffered the Sun to set upon thy wrath? Hast thou in an humble contempt of thyself, preferred others before thyself? Nay, rather hast thou not with the Spirit of contradiction opposed thy judgement against others; and out of a foolish presumption made an Idol of thyself? Hast thou in the Scale of Charity, preferred others before thyself? or rather, hast thou not rashly judged others in thine heart: and in thy so strict examination of him concluded with that proud Pharisee, I am not as this man is? In a word, hast thou judged well of others, but worst of thy self: or wished unto others as to thy self: or rejoiced like a faithful Champion in the Cross of Christ: or like a compassionate Member, suffered with those who suffer for Christ? O no; nothing less can I find in myself, unhappy Pilgrim. I have ever held a poor spirit in contempt, and an unfit Companion to take acquaintance of in this World.  How then dear Saviour, may I expect an inheritance in the Kingdom of Heaven; who am so far estranged from a mild Spirit on Earth? O my Lord incline thine Ear to my petition! 〈◊〉 a right spirit within me, so shall I be endowed with what delighteth thee; by accounting a meek spirit a spiritual beauty; and after this life, through thy mercy become inheritor of that Kingdom which thou hast prepared for those that love thee.  

CHAP. 41. Blessed are the meek, for they shall possess the Earth.  
HEre is a promise that the meek shall possess the earth: and yet is it hard to find a spirit truly meek upon the Earth. By which thou mayst gather (poor Pilgrim) that there is another Earth besides this Earth we here tread on, which shall be given for a possession to the meek. That desired Earth, prepared only for such who have wained their desires from earth. This is a Land which floweth with better things than Milk and Honey. An heavenly Havilah, where the purest Gold is to be found: nay, where the very Streets are Paved with Gold; the Walls are of precious Stones; the Gates are made of the best Margarites; 
Aug. Med. 25.  those many Mansions founded of square stones, built of Saphires, arched over with golden Bricks: which none must enter but he that is clean, none must inhabit that is defiled. Where then must thy possession be in this Land of promise? what Mansion mayst thou expect in this Holy City? Woe is me! I am unclean; I am unclean; from head to foot there is nothing in me but boyles, sores and run. How may I then look there to receive any Mansion, seeing to a Clean Lord is required a clean Habitation? How may I think that my Master will look on me, who all my life time have observed lest what he commanded most: practised nothing more than what he prohibited; neglected nothing more than what he commanded? How may I expect from his hands a blessing; or this promised possession of that earth; who never showed so much as the least meekness upon earth? Yet did that meek Lamb, who became an offering for me, leave such a pattern unto me; that if I were not wholly unmindful of my soul's honour: nor wholly forgetful of the love of such a Master, I could not choose but after his example become his meek and obedient Follower. For his whole life was a Mirror of meekness: seeing from the Cratch to the Cross he suffered all things patiently, bear all reproaches meekly, to reach unto thee from the tree of his Cross a Crown of glory.  O my Redeemer imprint this meekness of thine in my memory; let it never depart from me; put a meek and mild answer into my mouth, when any one shall revile me. Let me refer my cause unto thee, and that with such Christian Charity, as I may sincerely pray for mine Enemy: and in meekness of spirit to imitate the example of that meek Lamb, who with so resigned a will became a Sacrifice for me.  

CHAP. 42. Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.  
THat wise Preacher could say, It was better going to the House of mourning, then to the house of rejoicing. And yet how little did this admonition work upon thy thoughts? How pleasant have those Consorts of death; those Brethren in evil seemed unto thee? How merrily the hour went away? Nothing was wanting to make your delights more complete: but that you wanted time to make your follies more complete. Full cups, merry Songs, profane Oaths were the only Actors that presented themselves in this expense of time. A long night soon passed over, but not so easily accounted for. But tell me, thou misguided Pilgrim, were't thou as quick in thy visits to the house of mourning? didst thou labour to comfort the comfortless? Didst thou mourn with those that mourned; or with a tender Christian heart suffer with those that suffered? O no! shall I rather tell thee what thou hast done? Thou hast rejoiced when others mourned; taken content when others suffered. Nay, if at any time thou mourned'st, it was such, as God himself was provoked with it. For thou either immoderately mourned'st for the loss of thy friend, and so offended'st him with thy excessive mourning; or what was worse, for the loss of some temporal substance, and so provoked him with thy indiscreet sorrowing; or which was worse, for that thou mightst not enjoy thy full of pleasure; and so plunge thy soul down into the baleful pit of perdition for ever.  
Thy desire was to pass time over with a merry heart: and to satisfy her in the lusts thereof. And yet thou hadst so much divinity in thee as sometimes to consider, how none could partake in comfort here and elsewhere. How none could be there comforted, who was not here afflicted. How none could be there solaced, unless he here sorrowed. How the Almighty had a Son without sin, but none without a scourge. One, who wept often, but was never scene to laugh. One who from his birth to his death made his life a continued Scene of sorrow. One, who in the bitterness of his soul called and cried to all such as past by him, to come unto him, to behold him, and witness with him, If ever there were sorrow like unto his sorrow.  O no my dear Saviour, there was never sorrow like unto thy sorrow, yet I who occasioned thy sorrow, partake little in thy sorrow! O bring me now to a true sense of my sin; to a true sorrow for my endangered soul. Let my eyes be so well acquainted with tears; as my affection may be estranged from all joys. Let me become so happy a Mourner, as with devout Magdalen, I may become an hearty Convert of an heinous sinner, and so by ceasing from sin, become a welcome Guest to my Saviour.  

CHAP. 43. Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.  
MAny times hast thou hungered; oft hast thou thirsted; but tell me was this for righteousness? No; this hunger of thine was rather like the Prodigals in hungering after the busks of vanity; or like Esau's in hungering after delicacy; or like Ahabs in hungering after another Vineyard greedily; or like Hamon's in hungering after honour gracelesly. And the like was thy thirst; Thou thirsted, but it was with Gehezay, after gold; or with those before the Flood, after full cups; or like Nimrod, after blood: or like Amnon after lust.  
All this while, resolve me where thine heart is? It cannot be lodged in the Sanctuary, being so betrothed to vanity. Thy delight cannot be in the Law of the Lord. Thine heart can never indite a good matter, so long as thou suffers it to wander from thee like light Thamar after this manner. O how far is this after hungering how to promote God's glory? how far is this from thirsting after works of mercy? For howsoever some of these, who dedicate themselves to the devotion of the world: upon a more serious remembrance of God's heavy judgements, prepared for every rebellious and impenitent Sinner, may sometimes seem struck with remorse of conscience; and heartily wish with Balaam the death of the righteous: yet so long as they care not for walking in the ways of the righteous: nor with an humble holy zeal thirst after righteousness, nor mortify their desires by the Law of obedience: they may be long time wishers before they be enjoyers. Such desires can never produce good effect, which are not seconded with the fruits of a good life. Where piety has lost her practice; there is small comfort in the Court of Conscience. As the faithful man liveth by faith; so must he live in the life of faith: and walk according to the profession of his faith; or he shall never receive the promises of faith. He who believes whatsoever is necessarily to be believed: and observeth whatsoever is by the divine Law of God commanded, that man shall be accepted. But what is to be expected in this wide world, this wild wilderness; where there appears such want of obedience in youth; such want of devotion in age; such want of conscience in both? And what art thou, unhappy Pilgrim, who speakest these things; but as leaven to make sour the Lump? Thy life hath corrupted many, reclaimed none. None more ready to sin; none more slow to sigh for those sins which he hath committed. None hungering nor thirsting more after those troubled brooks of vanity and lightness; none hungering nor thirsting less after those precious treasures of Righteousness.  Dear Lord, be merciful unto me a Sinner. I thirst, Lord, I thirst; give me to drink of those waters of life: for unless thou help me, and reach them to me, I remain desolate and hopeless of relief in this time of my necessity. Sweet jesus, the well is deep, and I have not wherewith to draw; unless thou draw me to thee, and bestow on me what with all humility I beg of thee. O increase in me an holy hunger and constant thirst after righteousness; that my ways and works may be sanctified throughout in the practice of obedience.  

CHAP. 44. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.  
CAnst thou, unmerciful Pilgrim, look for mercy at the hand of thy Maker; and never so much as open the bowels of thy compassion to thy poor Brother? Art thou not in far deeper arecres to him that made thee; then he is unto thee, whom thou usest so unmercifully? what would become of thee, if he should deal with thee according to his justice? and throw thee into that Lake of fire and brimstone; where the worm is ever gnawing and never dying; fire ever burning and never cooling; and death ever living and never ending? where woe and sorrow, howling and gnashing of teeth is the best melody that raging Tophet can afford. Now, to avoid a place of such endless torment, who would not suffer the loss of any temporal estate, nay even of life itself? Yet thou, unhappy one, wilt not make thee friends of thy worldly Mammon; nor in works of mercy express thyself a Christian. Every where mayst thou find subjects fit to exercise thy Charity; in every lane, in every street thy poor languishing Brother begging relief for his sake, who suffered death for thy sake: and yet thou turnest away thy face from him: his many rags and running sores make thee abhor him. Again, thou canst not encounter thy Debtor but with much distemper; though the times be hard; his family poor; and his necessities great, yet conceivest thou no pity of his distressed estate. Thou lays thine executions upon him, throws him into prison; where it is the least of thy care what become of him. Let him starve for food, thou art well contented; his poor enfeebled corpse no sooner lose their breath, than thou losest thy debt, and art herewith well satisfied.  
Again, should any poor way-faring soul repair to thy house, this Cell of thy Pilgrimage; and after that ordinary form of begging in Italy, should beseech thee to do good for thine own sake; thine answer, as it has been ever, would be like that churlish Nabals: Shall I give my bread and my flesh unto strangers? Tell me then how canst thou look for the least drop of mercy, who in all thy time hast been a stranger to the Works of mercy? Oh when he shall demand of thee, who gave himself for thee; where be those hungry souls which thou hast relieved; those thirsty ones whom thou hast refreshed; those naked ones whom thou hast clothed; Those harbourless Pilgrims whom thou hast harboured; those sickly members whom thou hast visited; those comfortless Captives whom thou hast redeemed; those last Obits or Offices which thou to thy dead Brother shouldst have performed? what Advocate then canst thou find to plead for thee? who is he that will speak a good word for thee to the King, that his wrath may be appeased towards thee? oh none, none; Thou art wholly left to thyself, and utterly lost in thyself: and even in thine own bosom shalt find that witness to accuse thyself: as nothing may remain but the expectance of a terrible and irrevocable sentence.  O God of mercy, deal not with me according to the measure of my sins, for they are exceedingly multiplied: but according to thy great mercy put away my iniquities, that thy name may be magnified. O Lord, thou who delightest in mercy, and wilt have mercy on those on whom thou wilt have mercy, make me to delight in that wherein thou delightest, that in the day of wrath I may find mercy.  

CHAP. 45. Blessed are the clean in heart, for they shall see God.  
CAn the Leopard lay away his spots, or the Ethiopian his blackness? As the Leper in the old Law was commanded to cry out, I am unclean, I am unclean: So I, a foul sinful Leper, may cry out in the same manner, that men may shun me lest they become infected by my behaviour. For as the soul is far more precious than the body: so is the Leprosy of sin far more dangerous than that of the skin. The Swan, if at any time she pride herself in her beauty, no sooner looks upon her black feet, than she wails her plumes. Miserable Pilgrim! Look at thy black feet, how they are ever walking in the ways of sin; Look at thy black hands, how they are ever with greediness committing sin; Look at thy black profane mouth, how it is ever belching forth motives to sin; look at thy black projecting brain, how it is ever plotting new ways or passages for sin. Look at thy black deceitful heart, how it is ever imagining how to strengthen the arm of sin, Look at thy black corrupted Lever, which proves thee a corrupt Liver, how it is infected with sin. Nay, look at every part, and every where shalt thou find this spiritual Leprosy raging and reigning; spreading and streaming into every vein, every joint or artery? And yet what an Idol thou makest of thyself? how ready thou art to justify thyself? How far from craving thy good Physicians help, as thou wilt rather die then confess thy want of health? Truth is, there is no sin of a more dangerous quality, than this spiritual Idolatry; for by it whatsoever is in value lest is honoured most: And again, whatsoever in honour most, is valued least. Oh hadst thou (unmindful Pilgrim) looked so carefully to the cleansing of thine inward house, as thou hast done to the needless trimming of thine outward house: hadst thou been as mindful of cleansing thine heart, as thou hast been of brushing thine habit: oh than these leprous spots which now appear so foully on thee, had never infected thee! Then had thy life been a Lamp unto others; then had the affections of thine heart been pure: yea, God himself had prepared in thee a Tabernacle for himself to dwell in; a Bed of flowers for him to repose in; a Temple for him to be praised in. See then what thou hast lost, by losing that beauty which should have delighted him most! The sight of God.  
Woe is me, what a loss is this? To be deprived, and of that eternally, in the fruition whereof consists all glory? The sight of God Woe is me! that ever I was borne, to lose that for which I was borne; for which I was reborn! The sight of God The nourishment of every Angelical soul; This have I lost by not cleansing my heart: for the clean in heart shall only see God.  O cleanse me from my secret sins! O forgive me my strange sins! O let me now return to thee with my whole heart: and cleanse thou mine heart; that I may make godliness my gain, and with these eyes see thee, my God of Zion.  

CHAP. 46. Blessed are the Peacemakers, for they shall be called the Children of God.  
I Beseech you, that neighbour near me, and whose testimony may much avail me; speak for me; have I since I sojourned amongst you, laboured to compose peace, or to prevent occasion of Suits? Have I performed any office that might tend to peace? Oh speak for me; be it your charity to speak for me: for unless your charity do it, sure I am my endeavours have little deserved it. O no; I see you cannot justly speak one good word to the King for me! For my conversation hath been otherwise amongst you. The spirit of contention and contradiction reigned in me: and so far divided was I from the bond of charity, as I delighted in nothing more than nursing enmity. Injuries I would bear none: nay, rather than embrace peace, I would make injuries of none. Neighbourly arbitrations I neither affected nor admitted: it was my counsel ever that suits should be commenced: Let the Law try it, though the cause were not worth a fee for which we contended. Nay, to feed this fire of debate with new fuel; I told such who repaired to me for advise (damnable advice to lead a deluded Client into the height of all vice) that to bear an injury, were to make every one their enemy. How he who forgives him that wrongs him, encourageth him to pick a new quarrel at him: while the remitting of one becomes the admitting of another: yea, where a wrong is threatened and not revenged, it emboldeneth the Actor to see it executed. Thus lay I a snare privily to catch the simple and innocent doer; and by my mischievous counsel to make him of a Lover of peace a common Barreter. But evil Counsel is worst for the Counsellor; this I find too true to my discomfort. For now me thinks all those differences which I raised; all those quarrels which I started; present themselves before thee, threatening nothing less than perdition to me: for by the malicious instigation of Satan, they buzz like Bees about me, and with strong hand bring me forth, before the face of heaven and earth publicly to accuse me. This is he, say they, who would be called the Child of God; but how can he have any interest in that title; how dares he presume to derive any such promise from God, who all his life time has been a professed Enemy to the peace of God? He has laboured to encourage Neighbour against Neighbour; to bring all things into confusion by his distemper; and may such an one have any hope to aspire to a title of such honour? The world has been long since weary of him; because nothing but contention relished well with him: and shall his spirit which disquieted every place, and became an instrument of faction in every place, enjoy the comfort of peace? Or the reward of such as embrace peace; or that superlative title of those Peacemakers, to be called one of the Children of God? Thus may I, poor Pilgrim, be justly accused, and by what means may I be freed? How may I clear these accusations, whereof I am not only indicted, but convicted.  Even by thy meditation, my dear Saviour; who brought peace unto us, by suffering so many things for us. O be thou my Peacemaker, my sweet Redeemer! Let me now at last, after my breach of peace with thee, and with those whom I ought to have shown myself peaceable to, for thee; let me, I say, love peace and ensue it, that I may enjoy that Crown of peace, after my dismission from this Camp of Earth, which thou before all times hast prepared for those who embraced peace upon Earth. And since none can be called the Child of God, unless he be a Peace maker; give me grace to love and live in peace, that I may receive that blessed title from thee, my only Saviour.  

CHAP. 47. Blessed are they that suffer persecution for righteousness sake for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  
Straight is the Gate, and narrow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that enter in at it: the reason is, because by many tribulations we are to come unto it. The high way unto the Crown, is by the Cross. Christian devotion and spiritual discipline must be works of pain, not of the   
contented. So shall my hope be in thee planted; my herrt on thee fised; and my horn by thee filled.  

CHAP. 51. Lechery.  
BY this time I had received sufficient instructions from two of my Guests▪ how to thrive in the world▪ as likewise how to reserve a port or proud posture in the world. And howsoever Pride and Covetousness seemed to be of different conditions: and of such dis-consorting humours, as these two never took liking to any Music, but what was full of discord: yet me thought they agreed well enough together under my roof: yea, ay I bestowed them in the very next lodging to me, that I might enjoy the benefit of their Company more freely.  
But having now broke off my discourse with that Guest of mine; a man wholly made of earth; and looking aside, I might perceive a fresh youthful Consort entering the room, where we conversed. By his habit, gate and fashion, I could scarcely distinguish him, whether he were man or woman. So strangely effeminate, and to light discourses so affected, as he breathed nothing but amorous Songs and Sonnets; loose love was the line by which he directed the whole course of his life. His bosom was farced full of amorous Knights adventures: His morning Lectures were Boccace and Alcaeus: His evening Anthems were Ariosto and Reginus. For his person, he was of a promising constitution, but of pale complexion: a quick piercing eye; a nimble persuasive tongue: and of such a wooing winning action, as no expression came from him which would not enforce affection. I must confess, I no sooner saw him, than I found a glowing heat within me towards him: yea, I begun me thought, to conceive better of him, then either of the two with whom I had before conversed; so full of delightful variety was his discourse; so melodious his voice; so affectionately moving and complete in every part. I desired much to know his descent and Country: and he resolved me readily; that his first plantation was near to the banks of that famous River Sybaris: where he erected a School for love: afterwards richly endowed by such eminent proficients as had been Scholars in it: but desiring much to see foreign Countries, not only to improve his own knowledge, but observe her commands to whose service he stood obliged; He coasted along by Paphos, where his Mother, the Sovereigness of every loyal Lover, than kept Court: And from thence with merry gale he came to Cyprus: and some few months after to renowned Latium. Where he found such entertainment, as neither care nor cost were wanting to procure his liking. I importuned him much to hear some of those Lessons which he had formerly taught? and wherein I desired much to become his Scholar: but small importunity needed, seeing his own desires were thereto directed: so as, taking me apart from the rest of the Company, he imparted to me such directions, as nothing became more pleasing to me then the embraces of folly. Wanton Pictures, light amorous Poems; lose licentious meetings; luscious Feast seized so strongly on my deluded fancy; as love became both my Ditty and Deity. For he advised me to walk by the twilight; and and to engage mine honour to an Harlot. Thus was I drawn by the cords of vanity; made a slave to sin; an enemy to my own soul; and in the end a by word to the people.  O my beloved what may I answer in defence of my lost honour, woe is me miserable wretch to lose that without all hope of recovery which I should have preserved perpetually! O incomparable and inconsolable loss, to lose that which is not only the loss of all goodness, but the purchase of all torments! O thou precious treasure of a continent soul, how unhappily am I robbed of thee? O my soul, my beloved, how art thou now to be loathed! O my soul, no more my solace, but my anguish! O my dear, how art thou now become my despair! whether art thou fall'n? how hast thou left me; nay how hast thou rest me of those comforts which I expected from thee? To what a sink of all silth, and pollution, hast thou, O lust of my flesh drawn me? How may I hope for pardon, in playing so impudently the wanton? Even by thy mediation, my sweet Saviour; O offer up my poor petition unto thy Father, that I may become thy devout Saint and Servant, who was sometimes a servant to sin in every member.  

CHAP. 52. Envy.  
HAving thus freely enjoyed the conference of these three Guests; in whose familiarity I took much content. For as the first and third had recommended to me Rules of State, and motives to pleasure; so had the Second taught me a thriving way how to cram my Coffers, that I might more fully maintain the port both of th' one and th' other; holdding myself satisfied in these; I resolved to enter into treaty with the rest: so as walking one day very early, I chanced to meet with one, but the unbeseeming'st one of all my Guests, for his complexion seemed so withered and decayed: his body so meager and macilent; as he appeared rather like some Anatomy than any living Creature. This poor marrow-eaten Wretch I found sighing and making a pitiful moan, as if some heavy mischance had befallen him: but enquiring the reason of his sorrowing, he told me that the occasion of his grief proceeded not from any mishap falling to himself; but for the happiness he perceived many others lived in. For to see another's field flourish; or his goods to increase and prosper; was such an eyesore unto him, as nothing could more distemper him. This I conceived to be a base condition, and such as to humanity had very small relation. So as, I resolved to quit my house of him; and give him his Passport: finding nothing in him but an harsh unsociable humour; rejoicing in nothing more than the ruin of another, yet desiring to sift him a little further, and to the bottom, to make trial of his nature; I took first, occasion to demand of him of what Parents he descended; and in what Coast he first planted? and he told me, that jewry was his native Country; and his Parents jews; with whom he long time remained near to the Lake Asphaltos. I asked of him what content he could take in the World, when nothing but the evil success of others presented him any object of joy in the world? And he answered me, if I knew what strange content the Envious man apprehended from others misfortunes, I would prefer that humour before any personal honour: for, said he, whosoever stands so affected, he cannot want variety of Subjects to minister to him that content which he desired. I must, indeed, confess, quoth he, that I am of necessity now & then to encounter with some arguments of discontent; as I did this very Morning in seeing your Neighbour's Pastures so fruitful; their harvest so hopeful: but for one of these Objects, I shall find an hundred occasions of content. No place is exempted from me: no person excepted from playing one part or other in this interlude of folly. O how it joys me to see a proud ambitious spirit entering lists with his Competitor: where the one must necessarily fall to advance the other? Honour was their bait, and it proves their bane. Again, to see a Lovesick amorous Fool put his whole patrimony on his back, to enamour his light Mistress with a fantastic Dress: and in the end come home with a repulse: and so like a Child put finger i'th' Eye: or laying it to heart, make the loss of her fancy, the Close of his misery. Again, to see a miserable covetous Father scraping up an injurious estate for a Prodigal Child; who before his Father's Funeral be solemnised, takes as much pains how to scatter it, as ever his raking Father did to gather it. Or to see a base worlding spend himself in sighs and tears for the loss of his beast; making himself no better by his foolish mourning then that poor senseless Creature for which he mourned. To see wisemen lament for the death of their Children; as if death were some new thing: or that there were no hope after Death. To see a confident Client fail in his Suit; or an Earthworm stripped of his estate. And is not this brave sport for an envious spirit.  
This I considered, and methought I begun to be taken with the pleasure of it. The report of others welfare became distasteful to me; their misfortunes cheerful news unto me. Others Weale became my Woe, others Woe my Weal.  O my redeemer, thou who art perfect charity, remove from me the rust of envy. Too long has this canker eaten me. O let me neither do nor wish that unto another, which I would not have done nor wished to myself. O make me such an enemy to this Sin, as I may live in love; yea rather cease to live, then surcease to love thee for thyself, my Neighbour for thy sake.  

CHAP. 53. Gluttony.  
NO sooner had I dismissed this starveling; then I encountered another clear of another temper: plump he was and well-liking; one who cared not much what arrow of God's judgement were shot, so famine were left out. He told me, he had been a professor of Philosophy in the Epicures Academy. How he was by nation a Sidonian, and descended from the Vitellian family. Albeit, in the manner of his discourse, he discovered no great arguments of a Scholar; being of a dull and clodded fancy: and of apprehension slow and heavy. His providence merely consisted in purveyance for the belly. Wherein he observed such delicacy; as he scorned much to sit at that Table which was not stored with all Variety. I told him Strangers were not to be so curious; but rather contented with whasoever was for the present provided. Wherewith seeming a little moved; Sir, said he, I am neither so wanting in friends nor fortunes, as I need rely upon reversions. I have thus long lived and fed deliciously, making my Belly my Deity. And if you knew what delight there were in a luscious Tooth, and what pleasure in full Dishes; what strength they afford to nature: and how they infuse into the Blood a fresh reviving vigour, I am persuaded you would prefer this delight before any other pleasure.  
Sir, answered I, take me not up so shortly; I was never yet known such a niggard; as for sparing a little trash to starve my Belly. Others through their misery may stand indebted to it, but for my part I will rather choose to abridge mine Inventory, then be so taxed by it.  
But by your favour I must tell you what I have heard; that Surfeits kill more than the Sword. How he who makes a God of his Belly, surfeits in the delight of such a dainty Deity. And I have sometimes read Lessius his practice in Physic. How, when Nature grew so weak in him, as there was no hope of recovering him: and that his Physicians had left him: yet by prescribing himself a strict Diet, and by duly observing what he had prescribed; he even in his declining age became youthful; in his recreations fresh and cheerful: and even to his death strong and healthful.  
And yet he for all this died (said my delicious Guest) and tell me then what did his rules of Physic, avail him? Go to, Sir, he that lives Physically, lives miserably; let us cram and feed ourselves fat while we live; satisfy our desires in what we love. So long as we live in the World, let us enjoy with all freedom, the pleasures of the World. Abstinence suits better with an hermitage than a Palace.  
Take so much pains one day as go into a Monastery; and what will you find there, but, as Climacus observeth, Breathing Courses? their spirits wasted; their radical moisture with their Lamp-oil consumed; nothing left to present the resemblance of men, save only bare Sceletons, or fleshless Images of men; and these so useless for Earth, as their sole devotions and designs are for Heaven. But leaving these, if you please but to take a turn or two in our Epicureall Cloisters: you shall find Creatures of a fresh and flourishing vigour; of a strong and sinnowy temper: and such as promise a numerous supply to people the world; defend the State: and restore nature.  
This discourse came with such confidence from him, as I had no mind to interrupt him. Yea, his advice wrought such impression on me, as I begun to loathe nothing more than temperance, and to love nothing better than delicacy. Thus begun I to lose the hopes of a better life, for enjoying the delights of this present life. O where was my reason to suffer myself to be deprived of joy eternally, for the pleasures of sin so frail, deceitful and transitory.  O my dear Lord, let me now at last look towards Canaan, and leave these flesh pots of Egypt. O suffer not my heart to be loaden with surfeiting and drunkenness: but arm me with moderation and temperance. I know well Lord, how thou for my sake were't afflicted with poverty; and shall I in contempt of thee be affected to delicacy? Nay, Lord; I will choose rather to perish with hunger, then by my excess occasion thy dishonour. O be it my desire devoutly to serve thee by subduing of the flesh; that I may reign with thee by suffering no sin to reign in my flesh.  

CHAP. 54. Wrath.  
THe very next I took occasion to talk withal, was the most braving and imperious Guest that ever any one gave harbour to. For during those few days wherein he had sojourned with me, he begun to keep such a quarter, as if the whole house had been at his command. Not a servant but shaked and shuddered whensoever he came in presence. So teechie and froward was his humour, that all things seemed in his judgement out of order. Thus did my whole family suffer through his fury. So as indeed, I had a great desire to quit my house of him: for daily did mine ears glow with complaints against him. No servant would stay with me so long as he remained with me. All things grew out of joint; all things out of square. And now having resolved to put in speedy execution what I had intended; I took the opportunity to acquaint him with my mind. But when I had told him, how my whole family grew weary of him: and that I might of necessity keep my house alone, if I rid not my doors of him: He fell into such a furious passion, as I feared much he would have offered some violence to me: but as good fortune was, his fury resolved itself into words: which were delivered in that braving and domineering manner; as me thought I begun to take affection to that humour. For he told me, and that in such a scornful way, as not a word came from him but it breathed contempt, or threatened a mischief, that if I thought he was beholden to me for my entertainment, I was much deceived: for he held my entertainment so unworthy of him, as I might hold myself sufficiently contented that he would accept of it. But Sir, said he I must tell you, I cannot choose but smile at your folly; to see you thus overawed and baffalled by your own family. Your indiscreet patience, if you quicken not your temper, will ere it be long, make you a Servant of a Master: and by their malapertness bring your command into a bondage.  
Your Neighbours too, they observe the quietness of your disposition; and they play upon your easiness. For shame, be of sharper mettle. Make your Servants tremble when they hear you: and enforce that commanding awe to your inferiors, that as if they heard thunder, they may bless themselves, when they come near you. Impunity opens a passage to all impiety; if any commended or committed to your charge shall but lightly offend; yet you must not be too indulgent in rendering a pardon. I hold it far better, and for your state or condition fitter, never to debate the cause with mildness, for that tasteth of too much softness, but to strike before you speak; to season your reproof with correction, which will beget in you a reverence, and in them more subjection. This that Roman Vedius could do bravely; and in such an imperious sort exercise his Sovereignty: as his very beck was a word of command to all his family. And this while I was in Thebes (for I am a Theban borne) did I constantly practise; and that not only over such as I might command: but over such too, whose spirits I found so ready to veil to one of my quality; as I made them no less subject to my uncontrolled will, then if they had been of my own family. For during my reside in that famous City, none but I raised that fearful fraternal enmity betwixt Eteocles and Polynices: which unnatural contest (so strongly had my fury wrought upon their spirits) could receive no end, but in one another's blood. Neither was it my humour to be confined: for I had dreamt a little before my departure thence, how with unfortunate Hecuba, I was conceived with a firebrand, and that it could not be quenched but in the blood of many nations. Neither did that ominous Dream of mine prove false: for though with Cassandra's prophecy, it would not be believed, the fatal disasters of many flourishing Estates have before this time confirmed it. For to omit the subversion of many ancient Empires; whose memory now sleeps in dust, I appeal even to yourself, by whose means those ruins were occasioned, and that lately amongst our Free States? By whose agency those fearful and fatal divisions sprung up in Calidore: where Religion made the pretence, but innovation of government plotted the ground. And who became the manager of those disloyal attempts but myself? If then your desire be, to be one of note or fame in the world; observe my directions, admit of no reconciled foe into the list of your discourse. And if at any time you have received an injury, be it public or private: if he be your inferior, or subject to your power, squeeze him: nip him I say, so ith'head, as you may prevent him of all future hope of rising: but if he be your Superior, and you not able to vie with him in power, over-vye him in policy; faun on him; yet still carry a stone in your bosom; watch some opportunity wherein you may surprise him: but be sure when you once have him in your claws, to crush him. What matter makes it, though the jeering Lyric call anger a short madness; he is in my opinion most mad, that is least angry: for a mild Master corrupts a family. Now, I would have you to screw your passion to an higher pin. Anger is of too short continuance, it is not for your honour: give harbour then to Wrath, for that is an inveterate anger. This will make you so terrible to your foes; as you shall easily work your own ends, by thriving there best, where you are feared most.  
This Discourse, though at first it distasted me; for how could it sound well in the care of reason, to hear one break forth into the immerited praise of an immoderate passion? yet the conceit of revenge wrought so strongly on my affection, that howsoever I opposed the premises, I approved well of his Conclusion.  O Lord terrible and just, what would become of me, if thou shouldst have my sins in thy remembrance, or shouldst punish me in thy wrathful displeasure? and yet bear I a malicious heart to my Brother. He many times with many tears has besought my pardon: yet would not all these work in me any remorse or compassion. O look down upon me with the eye of thy mercy; remove from me the spirit of fury; and arm me with the shield of patience and lenity. I know, Lord, thou hast commanded us not to suffer the Sun to go down upon our wrath; and yet many Suns, nay many seasons have gone down on my wrath. I slept securely, while wrath encompassed my bed: and revenge lay a pillow for my head. O thou mild Lamb, imprint the memory of thy example in the Tablet of mine heart; make me to love mine enemy; and with a wise Virgin Lamp fed with the oil of charity, follow thee my sweet Spouse, unto the heavenly City.  

CHAP. 55. Sloath.  
But amongst all others, who had liberally partaked of my bounty; there was one, who so little deserved it, that in a careless security, as one respectless of any courtesy, he would all the day long take his rest; and scarcely rise without much ado to take his necessary repast. And one day I chanced to find him, when all his Companions were addressing themselves to one exercise or another, turning or rather rolling himself in his bed, like a door upon the hinges. So as, I begun to take him under hand, and to reprove him; bidding him to shake off Sloth for shame, and prepare himself for some task: lest in time he might incur Margites censure, who, because he neither digged, ploughed, nor did any good thing all his time, was not only barred all civil society living; but was not admitted to have his ashes deposited in the Urn of his Ancestors, dying. I desired to know further of him what content he could take in grovelling after that manner in his bed of security, while every creature according to his rank or quality, discovered some token of their industry. And in a sluggish manner he told me; how there was none, but at one time or other he might thrive, provided that he kept his shop; Now, what did any one know but that it was his Calling to make his shop his bed: Neither was he (as he impudently pretended) unemployed, when he seemed for rest most addicted. For that very morning, and no longer since, he told me that he kept his bed, not so much for his own case, as for composing a main difference which two noble Ladies had referred to him. For there had lately appeared to him two brave women attired in princely habit, who contended much for superiority: and the names of these two Ladies were Euphuia and Argia. Now these, after such time as they had appeared before him, discovered both their Descents and Callings. For Euphuia, as she proved herself descended from an industrious family; so she showed herself a true daughter, for she was wonderfully given to industry. Whereas Argia was clear of another humour: for nothing suited better with her disposition, then to do nothing. These two, accordingly as they stood severally affected, broke forth into commendations of what their natures stood most inclined to. Euphnia affirmed that nothing improved any ones private estate or country more than Industry. The other, with no less confidence spoke all she could in praise of privacy, and a sleepy kind of security; saying, how that was well got, that was got in a warm bed: and that Timandra purchased as much pleasure in the embrace of her friend, as ever Thalestris did in the discomfiture of her Foe. The other, to advance the honour of Arms with all other honest manual employments, with much moderation reproved her frowardness; telling her, that she did but all this to show her wit: for else she would spend no breath in commending Sloth, which was the death of a living soul. But said he, so strangely did these two close in the knitting up of their arguments, as with mutual consent, the difference was referred to me. Now, I am here consulting with my pillow, to whether of these two I should give the pre-eminence. Nor, do I intend to rise, till I have composed the difference. Thus did my lazy Guest play the easy Arbitrator, desiring rather a nap in a corner, then discharge the part of a Moderator: So as, I might easily conjecture, to what side he inclined most, by his averseness from labour. And, indeed, I must freely confess, I begun not altogether to dislike his humour. For when he had more fully acquainted me with the quality of his condition: how and in what manner he had ever lived; how he had shunned all public employments: desiring rather a Writ of ease, then to dis-ease his own quiet for another's good. Again, what a madness it was, to toil or turmoil one's self in the world; to have a sickle in another's corn; or to have an oar in every one's boat? To be accounted a wise and subtle Commissioner; and so spend his spirits about a fruitless or thankless labour? To play the carking Husband, in gathering for a progeny of hopeless Rakehells? To afflict himself in the hoarding up of that; which is got with pain and toil, kept with care, and fear, and lost with pangs and grief? No, no; said he, let the world wag, so I may enjoy my rest; draw my Curtains close; take my morning nap; let the Husbandman meet with a Snake in the way; Let the thirsty worldling play the Mole, dig and delve; I shall rather pity his folly, then envy his happiness.  
This humour, the more I observed it, the more I affected it. So as I begun to imitate my Guest, and to sing the Sluggards Lullabe, with yet a little, and then a little. And though poverty came so upon me, yet the enjoyment of a little Summer made me forgetful of an ensuing Winter. An hundred excuses would I mould, purposely to sleep securely: and free myself of all business, though it did never so nearly concern me. Either there was an Adder in the way; or the weather was unseasonable; or some indisposition to health, enjoined me to keep my bed. Thus did my delicacy bring me to security; which howsoever I flattered myself, was so far divided from me: as in the end I found my perplexed estate ever to danger most engaged, where weakness of opinion dreamt to me, that I was most secured.  O my Lord, thou who art that heavenly Husbandman, that desirest nothing more than Labourers in thine Harvest; and art ready to pay every Workman his penny, though he have but laboured one hour in thy Vineyard. Thou, who canst not abide that any one should look back from the Plough, or do thy work negligently; Convert my sleepy and sluggish humour into a spiritual fervour. My too long security into a careful practice of piety. That though my outward man, be but slime, my inward man may be a professed enemy to sloth. O grant me so to bestow the remainder of my time in faithful labouring; that though I have not felt the heat of the day; nay, though I have scarcely laboured one hour in thy Vineyard, I may now receive my penny in the Evening.  

CHAP. 56. How by their treacherous assault, his Cinque ports, became endangered.  
THus, thus became I poor Pilgrim assaulted; thus became I foiled. But why do I inveigh against their treachery, I became to myself the most treacherous Enemy? For by yielding my Fort to the spirit of Pride, my Luciferian glory grew darkened. By entertaining Covetousness my former content vanished. By cherishing Luxury, both mine inward and outward faculties were disabled. By feeding Envy, it became a feeder of me, and so my spirits became wasted. By cockering Gluttony, my spiritual infirmities were strengthened. By harbouring Wrath, charity the choicest comfort of Christian society was banished. By fostering Sloth, out of my great Master's checkroule, became my name to be razed. Neither were these unthankful Guests so contented; for by their treacherous attempts, became my Cinque ports endangered. So as, those darlings of mine which had they been loyally affected, should have been my assistants, proved to be my private Assacinates. Not one of them but they failed in performing those due offices to which they were deputed. My eye, indeed, knew how to look, 
Bern. Med. 14.  but by wand'ring it corrupted my understanding with the thought of lust. My ear knew how to hear, but by hearing amiss it distracted the intention of mine heart. My nostrils knew how to smell, but by rejecting those flowers of divine sweetness, I begun to snuff up the wind with the wild Ass in the wilderness. My touch knew how to perform her office, but by touching unclean things, or by using clean things uncleanely, that sense became slaved to all sensuality. My mouth became an open Sepulchre; mine Heart sins Harbour. Thus fares it with the State spiritual, as it doth with the Political; if the Cinque Ports be opened, the State becomes endangered; less secured, because to Invasion more exposed. What then could this poor razed Fort of my surprised soul expect but utter ruin, misery and desolation? Foes wrought on me without: and fears seized on me within. I had none left to comfort me: for my best comfort I had deservingly estranged from me; For had I not with Demas left God for the world, I might have had God for my Friend, and consequently all the creatures of the world. For to leave God, is to make every creature his foe, which ever God made.  
O, was it not enough for thee to have others to betray thee, but thou must add new strength to their force, by betraying thyself unto thine Enemy? Hadst thou tasted so freely of that ever streaming fountain of God's mercy; and was it thy duty to recompense his bounty with thy disloyalty? This had been great inhumaniry even to have shown to the most low and despicable creature: and couldst thou find in thine heart, to offer this abuse unto thy Maker? O woe is me, that I should receive all good things from the Lord, and requite him with nothing but evil! O that I had pondered these things well in mine heart: so might I in the day of my trouble have found help: and received comfort in the day of wrarh.  O my dear Lord, justly may I complain, and in the bitterness of my soul, cry out: Sinners have built upon me: nay, they have made deep furrows upon my back. And there is no health in me because of thine heavy displeasure. O, though I be a Sinner, be not unmindful of thy poor creature. Receive me, O receive me into the arms of thy mercy; while I confess unto thee, who knowest the secrets of all thoughts, my iniquity? There is not one sense that thou hast given me, but I will declare unto thee how it has dishonoured thee. O thou Balm of Gilead, heal my wounds, for they are many!  

CHAP. 57 Sight.  
Look on me, and pity me, when you shall hear how this sense has deluded me! And take warning by my Example, that ye suffer not your Dinahs to wander, lest they lose their honour. This sense which should direct me, did first entrap me: for I no sooner beheld, than I was held captive by that which I beheld. Neither was I altogether senseless of these things: for I understood how Death entered in by the windows. And yet I would not shut them, but suffered my mortal enemies to enter in by them. Nor a concupiscence but by those unguarded portels received admittance. Our Grandham Eve to our shame and loss, saw that the fruit was pleasant, and she took of the fruit and tasted of it. This apple remains still in the eye, and must continue an eyesore to all her posterity. Thus have our Fathers eaten sour grapes, and their children's teeth are set on edge. O how often have I resolved with myself (but as in all things else, how weak are men's resolves?) to shut these gates against all temptations: and on that Object never to fix my sight, that might give any Inlet to sin: or to look on that intentively, which I might not desire safely. And to strengthen this resolve, I thought upon some wholesome meditation, the memory whereof I had good hope would keep those lights within me: and not suffer them to be taken up by any worldly vanity. But no sooner gave time and place opportunity, than those weak resolves were quite razed: the thoughts of goodness discarded; piety became a Stranger to me: for corruption had seized on mine heart, and rendered up her Hold unto the Enemy. O how happy had I been; had I in my youth repelled those distempered heats which my wanton eye first infused! But so far was I from repenting of what my youth had committed: as now my riper years are not ashamed to retain a delight in the remembrance of what my youth affected. And what more hard to cure, than an old Ulcer, an aged sore? O ye treacherous Spies, why have ye thus wandered about to seek my undoing? what gain may ye reap by my perdition? Is there no end of your fury; nay, of your madding folly? O remember, how for these beautiful sights which you have presented to me: and wherewith you have deceived me; ugly and ghastly Spectacles shall torment both you and me. For you, and none but you, moved me so unjustly to covet my Neighbour's field, because it was fruitful. And to hunt after the strange woman, because she was beautiful. Your Presentments made me in all things sensual. Thus by bitter experience have I found how by the Countenance piety became hindered; by the eyes, chastity became harmed.  O my dear Saviour, look upon me, who have lost myself by looking and longing after what was unlawful for me. O though I be not worthy by lifting up mine eyes to Heaven, to pray unto thee: yet am I not unworthy by blinding mine eyes with tears, to weep before thee. O do not turn away thine eyes from me! I am wholly lost if thou despise me; but I shall renew as the feathers of an Eagle, if thou vouchsafe but to look upon me. O may my delight be in thy Law; my Object thy Cross; my conscience my feast; Righteousness my Crown.  

CHAP. 58. Hearing.  
Would any one think, that man the noblest of God's creatures; nay, to whom he has given dominion over all his creatures; man, I say, endued with a reasonable soul, should make that sense which was given him for edification, the instrument of his perdition? And yet behold the Man, with a sense accompanying and corrupting Man! Faith cometh by Hearing; And yet how have I broken my faith by Hearing? I had sometimes vowed, though not myself, yet by such as undertook for me, that I would forsake the Devil and his Works, with the pomps and vanities of the flesh; but where was my performance? Have I not defamed my Neighbour; or heard him defamed? And what have I answered for him? nay, have I not delighted in hearing him defamed, or enlarged his disgrace with some new reproach? Have I entered God's Temple, the House of the most High, with a sanctified ear? Nay, have I not come thither rather to traduce, then usefully hear? Have I not laboured to catch at this doctrine? Or admit I came there with an Heart prepared for devotion: and with an ear ready to receive instruction: did not the Eye practise with the Heart to surprise the Ear: and by that means decline it from doing what it intended; by giving ear to that which might distract it? Nay, let me come a little nearer thee, thou lose, dissolute and unprepared Eare. Hast thou heard so much as a Psalm in the Church without distraction? Did not those sweet airs of spiritual devotion so far transport thee; that thou gavest better ear to the note how sweetly it was sung, then to the end for which it was sung? Didst not take more delight in the voice than the matter; and by that means in the ear of thy Maker, become an unfitting Quirister? Didst thou not by breaking a Note to please thy fancy, conceive more content in the melody of the voice, than purity of the heart? Nay, didst not prefer the very measure or composure of it, 
Bern. Med. 11. Athan.  before his honour for which it was penned? nay, has not God spoke unto thee in a Psalm, and thou unto him; yet didst thou consider whose Psalm it was, 
Bern: Med. 8.  or for whom it was, when thou didst sing it to him?  
Again, shall we leave the Church, and go into the world? Tell me, O tell me, how didst thou there employ thine hearing? Didst not take infinite delight in a filthy song? Did not a wanton light tune bring thee to think of thy light Mistress? or did it not suggest to thee some loose thoughts provoking fancy: or some other heavy melancholy thoughts egging thee on to some desperate act of revenge or fury? O yes! Thus didst thou employ it; and thus didst thou perish by it. How then shouldst thou come to be instructed, having been by thy best instructing sense, thus woefully distracted?  By thee, my blessed Master, do I hope to be instructed: that the follies of my youth may be at last reform. O sanctify the Ear of mine heart, that I may turn it away from vanity; turn it wholly unto piety. O let me be no such Hearer as is the deaf Adder, which stoppeth her ears, charm the Charmer never so wisely. O let me be none of those, who will not hear, because they would not understand; nor of those who hear, but will not understand; nor of those who hear, but will not observe what they both hear and understand: but give me an humble Ear to hear, and a conceiving heart to understand what I hear, that hearing humbly, understanding fully, and practising faithfully, I may sing alleluia to thee in the Kingdom of glory.  

CHAP. 59 Smell.  
MVst that fresh and fragrant Garden of all divine graces; with all those precious odours of Christian virtues and holy duties be abandoned: those saintly examples of devout and religious men be neglected; and instead of these must those hateful weeds of vices be cherished; which, were they disposed of as they deserve, are for no other use then to be thrown over the wall of God's Seedplot, or to be burned? Must that enclosed Garden, I say, embroidered and beautified with all spiritual flowers be ploughed up by wild beasts of the Forest? Must those red Roses of charity, those white Lilies of chastity, those sweet violets of humility lose their beauty? Have those constant Martyrs, chaste Virgins, and humble Confessors deserved no reverence, nor imitation from thee? Must their memory sleep in the dust, and have no followers after death? O consider, how all these deceiving pleasures of this world, are but like Beane-flowers; when you are far from them; they smell sweet unto you; but when you draw near them, they distaste you. The pleasures of sin ever close with an heavy surfeit. But return unto thyself, and see how thou hast employed this sense! It is but a little one, and yet it has an Office to attend; which neglected, it must be accountable and receive due punishment. Come then, and tell me what thou hast done! Hast thou followed thy sweet Saviour in the smell of his sweet ointments? Hast thou followed him, though a far off, to his Cross? Hast thou sought to be embalmed with his odours? Hast thou lived as he prescribed: or loved that which he professed? O no; thou in the Garden slept, while he prayed; Thou in the Hall stood warming thyself, while he was condemned; thou scarcely durst approach the Mount where he suffered: and was this to follow him in the smell of his sweet ointments, and in his sufferings to be comforted? His blessed life was as a bundle of myrrh; the whole course of his conversation, a spiritual confection. Every action, our instruction. And how were thy feet prepared to follow him? O slowly, too too slowly: Thou hadst either a Father to bury; or a Wife to marry; or a yoke of oxen to try; or a Farm to buy. Some excuse or other must be pretended; long may his Feast be prepared, and often mayst thou be invited, before thou be ready to come unto it; and when thou comest, twenty to one, thou art excluded, because thou hast not on thy wedding garment, without which never look to be entertained. O but tell me, what was it that first hindered thee to follow the savour of his sweet ointments, who so truly loved thee, as he gave himself up unto death, to save thee? O it was the smell of worldly gain that divided thee from him; or the love of honour or pleasure that made thee a stranger to him. O who then will bring thee to him, seeing what he hated most, divorced thee from him!  O none but thyself, dear Saviour; O draw me after thee, and I will follow thee. O too much hold has the present world had in me: the cares whereof took me quite from thee. Let it henceforth have no interest in me, that I may be wholly possessed of thee: O inflame mine heart with a love of thee, that I may live with thee: for live I cannot, unless I enjoy thee. And since I cannot live here, and see thee; let me die, that I may see thee.  

CHAP. 60. Taste.  
adam's posterity had been blessed, had he only seen the fruit, and never tasted. O how sweet is the taste of sin to the palate; but how cold in the stomach? Though it show a cheerful welcome, it ever leaves us with a sad farewell. Thou hast had a free and full taste of this, unhappy Pilgrim, in preferring a mess of pottage before an inheritance. In feeding so greedily on the Husks of vanity; and preferring them before those wholesome Viands in thy father's family. Yet what were all these compared to those spiritual dainties, that incorruptible food, but as chaff to wheat, bran to bread, Onions and Garlic of Egypt to the heavenly Manna? yet behold my misery! Though I daily observed how the world was full of troubles, perplexities, tumults and confusions; how such only had the best part in it, who had the least to do in it: how the Great One had ever some Corrival to oppose him: the little one had some Great One to crush him. How honour, like Hamans' halter, brought the unhappy Enjoyer of it unto ruin. How Greatness pretending privilege for guiltiness, brought the Land to mourning. How there was nothing in the world but shouldering one another; labouring to advance themselves even by their nearest friends dishonour. How the world was an empty Sponge; outwardly flourishing: fruitlessly promising; rarely prospering. How it was wholly set on mischief: and how there was none that did good, no not one. How there was a world of men: but a wilderness of good men. How many times virtue bare vices livery: While vice became so innocently clothed, as it past current for down right honesty. Yet though I say, I considered these things; I never treasured them in mine heart. I went along with the multitude: for my taste, it was so enured to sin, as I took most delight in that which empoisoned my soul. My liquorish taste, my luscious tooth brought me to far deliciously with the rich Glutton: and to carouse deeply in Balthasars' cups. I feared no more the deluge of sin, than those before the Flood did that deluge of waters before it came. O consider then, thou ungracious sense, seeing every one must be punished, wherein he has been delighted, what shall thy portion be in the Lake, where every impenitent sinner is to receive the wages of his misspent life? Woe is me, who will deliver me, or take thee off from accusing me?  Even thou, my gracious Redeemer; who, as thou hast discovered to me how bitter the world is; wilt bring me to taste and see how sweet the Lord is. O lead me forth to thy green pastures, near those Rivers of sweet waters, where I may taste of the fullness of thy pleasures, and drink of those heavenly waters for evermore.  

CHAP. 61. Touch.  
SOme things were not to be touched for their exceeding sanctity and holiness: other things were not to be touched for their impurity and uncleanness. The Ark was not to be be touched, because of its holiness: and Pitch is not to be touched because of its uncleanness. Evil conversation is a spiritual infection. There be sundry evil concupiscences, which though they touch not the outward faculties of the body, yet they touch the very life and well-being of the Soul. Which though they wound, yet are the wounds to a worldling so infinitely pleasing, as nothing delights him more than to be wounded: nothing displeaseth him more than to be cured. The fish Torpedo is the very Emblem of the world. She is ever sure to take him, by whom she is taken. Some things we shall every where meet withal, which for their pollution bear in their forehead this Prohibition: Look not, taste not, touch not, handle not. Lest the eye of the soul become blemished; the whole inward man infected; the powers or faculties of the intellectual part wholly disordered. But how hast thou, poor miserable Pilgrim, observed this Lesson? How hast thou employed this peculiar sense, but to satisfy thy concupiscence? Easie it was for any one, if they touched thee never so gently, to move thee to passion: but not so easy it was for any object of charity to touch thy bowels of compassion. Long might poor sick Lazarus lie at thy Gate, before thou were't touched with remorse, or moved with pity to relieve him. Long might that way-faring man lie wounded by the way side, before thou were't touched, as that tender hearted Samaritan was, to minister least comfort to him. O how insensible were't thou of poor Joseph's misery! but how quickly touched at the least smart which fame or fortune might dart on thee! nor was it any wonder, thou insensate sense, that thou shouldst grow thus obdurate; seeing thy Chambering and Wantonness, thy spiritual Fornication and Drunkenness; thy trampling of God's word under feet; thy murmuring and discontent in every estate; thy partial and corrupt love to thyself, made thee wholly forgetful of all others but thyself. Mean time, thou little knew how thou were't thine own Enemy; in not seeking to cure that mortal infirmity: which by process of time became so much more incurable, as thou of thine own malady were't grown insensible. For, howsoever they seemed to cherish thee, and so delude thee, these were Ismalites, thy mortal enemies, who sported with thee. Thus have I loosely rioted, and fearfully transgressed in the abuse of every sense: and by obeying the lusts of the flesh, hatefully sinned against mine own own soul.  Dear Lord, thou who breathest the spirit of life into every living soul; and from whom if thou take away thy breath, they die. Breath into my soul new affections; rectify my disordered and mis-employed Senses. O give unto me, thou invisible light, such a sight as may see thee. Create in me a new smell, O thou breath of life, that I may run after thee in the smell of thy sweet ointments cheerfully. Heale thou my taste that I may taste, know and discern how great is the multitude of thy sweetness, O Lord, which thou hast laid up in thy heavenly Treasury, for those who are full of thy charity. Sanctify thou mine ear, that it may be edified by thee: and so direct it, that my heart may be inflamed by it, to the practice of piety. Quicken my touch, with compassion to thy little ones: and so order every Sense that they may perform their proper offices to the good both of my soul and body: making it ever their absolutest aim to promote thy glory.  

CHAP. 62. Being thus encompassed with danger, he prepares himself for prayer.  
What Sanctuary have I now to retire to: or what Refuge may I fly to, when I have nothing within me, but practiseth rather to betray me then free me: nothing without me, that may any way avail me, now when dangers of all sorts, and on all sides thus encompass me? O my good God, I have one in readiness, for thou hast prepared it for me; and by it shall I in due time receive comfort from thee. The direction is short and sovereign" If any be afflicted, 
jam. 5.  let him pray; and if he be merry, let him sing Psalms. I am afflicted, Lord; I am inwardly afflicted, I will therefore take the wings of the morning, and fly with the Dove, till I may find some resting place for the sole of my foot: till I may bring an Olive-branch in my bill, and so bring glad tidings to my poor Soul, that the floods of waters are returned back: which have not only for many days, but many years encompassed me. Those bitter waters of Marah; those swelling floods of affliction which have gone over my Soul. In the old world, when Noah's Ark was builded, and all the inhabitants of the earth to the number of eight reduced: 
Gen. 7.  fifteen cubits only did the waters prevail upward, and covered the Mountains. But the waters of my affliction have mounted higher: they have bound in my soul; and brought her down to the depths. High time than is it to fly for succour: lest the water-floods swallow me up: and the remembrance of me be no more: I will direct therefore my Prayer unto God; for he is a God of mercy and all consolation: he will take pity of my affliction; and in his appointed time rid me of all my fears.  
But alas, though I know the way where comfort is to be received, and the door of the Sanctuary be open to receive me in it: yet so long have I estranged myself from it: and so unacquainted am I with the exercise of Prayer, as I know not in what form or manner to make it. For when I look upon myself, and consider how lukewarm has been my conversation, how earthly my affection, 
Bern. Med. 11.  how feigned my confession, how short and rare my compunction, how my obedience has been without devotion, my prayer without intention, my reading without edification, my speech without circumspection; I grow ashamed of my condition: acknowledging nothing to be due unto me, but reproach and confusion. For when at any time I pray, I mind not what I pray, nor to whom I pray; how may I then hope for any help from him to whom I pray, or that my prayer shall be heard by him, 
Ib. c. 8.  seeing I myself do not hear myself in the prayer, which I make unto him? The precious stone Diacletes, though it have many rare and excellent properties in it, yet it loseth them all if it be put in a dead man's mouth: So Prayer, which is the only sovereign pearl and jewel of a Christian, though it have many rare and exquisite virtues in it, many promises conferred on it; yet it loseth them every one, if it be put into a man's mouth, or into a man's heart either, that is dead in sin, and doth not knock with a pure heart. For Prayer without devotion is like the bellowing of Oxen. O where am I then, whose imaginations have been evil from my youth; whose life has been a sink of sin; and whose heart has been a stranger to devotion? how and in what manner may I pray in hope to be heard? how shall I render up my Supplication, that it may be received? how shall I offer my Sacrifice of thanksgiving, that it may be accepted?  O my dear Lord, as thou hast taught me to pray, so teach me how to pray. Put sweet incense into the Censor, and that it may burn the better, inflame my heart with spiritual fervour. Behold, Lord, I fly unto thee, open the door of thy Sanctuary unto me, that I may enter and offer up my prayer to thee, after that absolute form of prayer which thou thyself hast taught 〈◊〉.  

CHAP. 63. He repeats the Lord's prayer; and in every particular he finds himself a great Offender.  
Our Father which art in heaven.— Oh make a stop here (poor Pilgrim) before thou goest any farther! Hast thou a Father in Heaven? where is the duty thou shouldst tender? Dost thou use him like a Father; much less like an heavenly Father, when thou preferrest the pleasures of sin before his honour? Hallowed be thy name.— Oh with what tongue canst thou utter hallowed, seeing his name hath been by thee so much dishonoured? Thy Kingdom come.— O shake and tremble! fearful to thee will be the coming of his Kingdom, seeing thou by ascribing to thyself what was due unto him, shalt be accused of seeking to rob him of his Kingdom. When the foundation of the earth shall be shaken; the whole world dissolved: and thou brought forth naked, to be publicly judged. Thy will be done— Oh dissembling wretch, dost thou pray that his Will may be done, when thou never yet with thy Will didst that which thou shouldst have done: nor what thou knewest well was his Will to be done? In Earth as it is in Heaven. And yet has it been the least of thy care on Earth, to do his will, as it is done in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread.— Oh has he not granted thy suit? has he not strengthened thee with the staff of bread. But hast thou walked in the strength thereof to his honour: or requited him with an offering of his own, by sowing thy bread upon the waters? And forgive us our trespasses.— Oh they are many! many in quantity; heavy in quality: yet as a spark in the Sea, so has he drowned them in the Ocean of his mercy. As we forgive them that trespass against us.— O consider well the particle of this petition! examine thine heart, whether thou hast or no performed the condition. Thou desirest but to be forgiven as thou dost forgive: oh forgive then, that thou mayest be forgiven! Few be the areeres which thou canst demand of thy Brother, in comparison of those which are owing by thee to thy Maker. And lead us not into temptation. And yet thou wilt not stick to lead thyself into temptation. He is ready to bestow his grace upon thee; to send his Holy Spirit to guide thee; to spread his Banner over thee: yet while thou prayest not to be led into temptation, thou willingly leadest thyself into that, which thou in thy prayer desirest to prevent. But deliver us from evil.— Oh how many deliverances has he shown unto thee? How often has he snapped in pieces the Spear which might have dispatched thee. Broken those Arrows which might have wounded thee? Taken thy foot out of the snare which had entrapped thee? Nay, how often hast thou gone down even unto the gates of Hell, and lest thou shouldst enter in, he withheld thee? How often hast thou drawn near even to the gates of death, and lest they should take thee in, he preserved thee? Thus hath he delivered thee from all evil: and yet for all this good which he has done thee, thou hast requited him with evil. And now thou concludest: For thine is the Kingdom, power and glory; for ever and ever, Amen. Oh how ready thou art here to acknowledge his power, and yet to deny it in thy life? But confess thou must his power not only with mouth, but heart, and practise of a good life, if ever thou meanest to partake with him in the Kingdom of glory.  O my sweet Saviour, as thou hast taught me by this absolute form of Prayer; how I am to make my prayer: and hast promised to grant me my request, if I pray effectually as I ought: so kindle in my heart true devotion, that no place may be left for distraction: Here thou hast taught how and in what manner I am to pray, O let me not lose the benefit of it, by losing myself when I pray.  

CHAP. 64. He renders a private account of his Faith: and in every article of the Creed, he finds a fainting, failing, weakness and want.  
I Believe in God; the father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth. This first Article of our Belief was made by Christ's first Apostle Saint Peter. And herein thou professest that thou believest: But that is not enough; The Devils do believe and tremble. Thou must not only believe God, but believe in God: and that he is thy God. Again, thou art not only to believe God; and believe in God, but solely love God: and wholly live to God. For as we are to believe with heart unto righteousness; and confess with mouth unto salvation: so are we to bring forth fruits hereof in an holy and blameless conversation. O how much hast thou failed in the first, what then may we look for at the last? And in jesus Christ his only Son our Lord. Of this second Article was Saint john the Evangelist Author: one, who was right dear in the eyes of his Master, our blessed Saviour: and one, who leaned on his bosom, at his last Supper. And here thou confessest jesus Christ, 
john 13.23.  the second person in the blessed Trinity, to be the Son of God; & to be our Lord. But hast thou by a contrite heart & regenerate life made him thy Lord? Thou sayest, thou dost believe in him, but dost thou love him in whom thou believest? And how shouldst thou be less than his Lover; so long as thou believest him to be thy saviour? But where be any Signs of this love? O if thou didst truly love him in whom thou believest, thou wouldst rather leave to live, then leave to love him in whom thou believest! Which was conceived by the Holy Ghost, borne of the Virgin Mary. This third Article S. james the Greater, composed; whereby thou art taught to believe, all sanctification to be included in his Conception; all humility in his Nativity. But dost thou, as every Christian should do, seriously consider, for whose sake this Virgin was conceived; for whose sake thy sweet Saviour became so humbled? that the Son of God should become the son of Man, that the Son of Man might become the son of God? that the immortal should become mortal? that the mortal might become immortal? that the living Lord should die, that the dying man might live? that the free should become bound, that the bound might become free? that God should descend from heaven to earth, that he might draw us from earth to heaven? that God should become humbled; that Man might be exalted? that He should become poor, that we might be enriched? and reckoned amongst the transgressors, that we amongst his Saints might be numbered? Hast thou, I say, meditated of this; how he was borne for thee; that thou mightst be reborn in him? O I fear thou hast been more ready to partake of this benefit, then by acknowledging it, to be thankful for it! Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead and buried. This fourth Article Saint Andrew framed: wherein thou seest, and perhaps, admirest the unjust proceedings of a wicked judge: for thou hearest one, and that an odious and malicious one, pronouncing the sentence of death upon the Lord of life: and inclining to the voice and vote of the people, delivering a murdering delinquent, to murder the innocent. Nay, pronouncing a sentence against his own Conscience: for he washed his hands but not in innocence. Again, thou hearest and believest that he was crucified; and yet it grieves thee not to crucify him afresh with new sins. Thou believest that he died and was buried: and yet thou daily diest not to sin, but in sin; and hast now, not three days, but many years lain buried in them. He descended into hell. This fifth Article Saint Philip added; and thou believest in it. He descended that thou mightst ascend to the place whereto he is ascended. Yet where be there any tokens of thy desire to ascend unto him? Ascend unto him thou canst not, unless thou descend into thyself, for whom he so humbly descended. The third day he rose again from the dead. This sixth Article Saint Thomas annexed: An Article proper for Thomas, who touching Christ's Resurrection, was so incredulous. And here thou seest that late crucified man, now acquit himself of death, like a victorious Lord. And hence thou rejoycest: but unless thou rise from sin, and live to righteousness, Christ's Resurrection shall afford thee small comfort in the bed of thy sickness. He ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God, the father Almighty. This seventh Article Saint Bartholomew penned. And by this thou believest that he is now ascended, who for thy sake descended. 
Aug. in Serm. de Ascens.  And as from his rising came the hope of thy Resurrection: so from his ascending the hope of thy glorification. But thou must rise with him, before thou canst reign with him: rise with him who was free from all sin, from the Grave of sin, that thou mayst reign with him who died for thy sin, in his heavenly Zion. And as he sitteth on the right hand of God the father Almighty, where he offers up his prayers for thee, sheweth those glorious scars of his precious wounds to his Father for thee, & performs the faithful office of a loving Mediator for thee; So art thou in thy prayers to remember the necessity of his Saints upon earth. But cold is thy charity in performing such a duty. From whence he shall come to judge both the quick and the dead. This eight Article was by S. Matthew published: and by this thou believest, how he who was judged unjustly shall judge the whole world in Equity. For the Father judgeth none, but hath given up this judgement unto his Son, in whose breast are laid up all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge: And this thou believest and tremblest: and reason thou hast to tremble: for how shalt thou be able to stand in his presence, before whom even the heavens are unclean? O when the righteous shall scarcely be saved, what will become of the wicked? when the axe of his judgement shall not spare the green tree, what will become of the dry? O nothing but woe, woe may befall thee miserable delinquent, if he deal not with thee in mercy but in judgement! I believe in the Holy Ghost. This ninth Article Saint james the less delivered. And thou art taught to believe thus much by it: that the Holy Ghost the third person in the blessed Trinity, is the Spirit of comfort, truth and unity: without which it is impossible to please God. For as he promised unto his Apostles a Comforter, so in the shape of a Dove, 
Act. 2.3.  and in the form of cloven tongues there appeared unto them this promised Comforter. But how is it that thou believest in the Holy Ghost: and yet with thine hardness of heart, and looseness of life grievest the Holy Spirit of God? Thus to believe, if thou be not penitent; will rather be a means to draw on thee, then remove from thee Gods heavy judgement. The holy Catholic Church. This tenth Article of faith Saint Simon founded. But how dost thou believe the holy Catholic Church, or how is thy faith grounded, if thou observe not what the Church has commanded? How canst thou be a Member of her, so long as thou livest divided from her? Or how canst thou truly call her Mother, so long as thou hearknest not to her commands, but becommest disobedient to her? O then, by a right faith knit thyself unto her: or else disclaim thy being a Member of her. 
Aug.  But look unto it: for God thou canst not have for thy Father, unless thou have his Church for thy Mother. Neither canst thou ever hope to be a Citizen in his Church triumphant, unless thou be first a Member of his Church Militant. The Communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins. To this eleventh Article is Saint judas Thadaeus entitled. And this Communion of Saints thou believest; and for the forgiveness of sins thou lookest. And yet thou livest not, as if thou desired to be of this Communion. Neither rendrest thou any such fruits of repentance, as may cherish in thee, the least hope of Remission. The Resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen. With this last Article Saint Mathias closeth our Creed,. And by it thou believest that thy body shall rise again from the dust: and that thy soul shall live with the just. But hast thou not fed thy Body too delicately, to rise again to glory? Hast thou not taken too much pleasure in sinning, ever to enjoy life everlasting.  O thou blessed Trinity in unity, and Unity in Trinity; thus have I made a confession of my Faith unto thee, but my many faintings, failings, wants, weaknesses and imperfections greatly discourage me, unless thou in thy mercy strengthen me. I believe, Lord, O help my unbelief. Give me the shield of faith; that here on earth I may acquit myself like a valiant Champion: and in Heaven be made by thee a triumphant Citizen.  

CHAP. 65. Having thus examined himself, and found in the whole course of his life, a fainting in faith, and failing in Works; He recalleth to mind those Quatuor Novissima, or four last Remembrances; Memorials hourly necessary for all Christians.  
THus hast thou laid thyself open to all discovery: and there is no good thing to be found in thee. For in thy faith, thou hast found a fainting and weakness: and in all thy works a failing and barrenness.  

Aug.  Most freely went that blessed Father to work (and no less dangerous has been thy walk) when he confessed himself in this sort. jinherit sin from my father, an excuse from my mother, lying from the Devil, folly from the world, self-conceit from the pride and arrogant opinion of myself. Deceitful have been the imaginations of thine heart, crooked have been thy ways: malicious thy works. And yet hast thou taken the judgements of God in thy mouth. Desiring nothing more than to blind the eye of the world with a counterfeit zeal. But all such Hypocrites God will judge. He will not be mocked with. For as the Devil has his sieve, with which he lets go the good; but keepeth the bad: So the Lord has his Fan, by which he lets go the bad, and keepeth the good. O when he shall separate his goats from his sheep; his wheat from his tares; when the Just and the Wicked shall appear before him: and every man shall be put into the balance; O I fear me then, thou wilt be found many grains too light! It were well for thee then, to prepare thyself against that great and fearful day. And to furnish thee all the better, by making thee a true Convert, of an impenitent Sinner, recall to mind those Quatuor Novissima; or Four last Remembrances: Memorials hourly to be thought; and so necessary to be retained in thy memory, as the Christian use of them may prepare thee before Death summon thee; and in this vale of misery fit thee for thine heavenly voyage to eternity. And yet while I speak thus unto thee, I find thy condition to be woeful: for if thou consider them, the very thought of them cannot choose but startle thee: and if thou neglect them, thou wilt stand in amaze, when they encounter thee.  O my dear Lord remember me in thy mercy; and so prepare my memory; that these Four necessary Remembrances may never depart from me. Let me be prepared for Death, before it come, that it may never take me unprepared whensoever it shall come. Let me think of that fearful day of judgement; and judge myself before I be judged, that I may not be found light in thy scale, when I shall be weighed. Let me, O let me think, how there is an Hell for the damned; for better is it by timely fearing it, to avoid it: then by never dreaming of it, headlong to fall into it. Lastly, let me think of Heaven, how it is the place of the Blessed: and that none but those that are of a clean heart shall dwell in it. O cleanse thou mine heart, that I may be prepared for it, and with much spiritual joy be received in it.  

CHAP. 66. Death.  
IT is strange that Death should be such a stranger to thee, when he so daily visits those that neighbour near thee. Thou hast been familiarly acquainted with many, whose habitation is not now to be found; who have enjoyed the pleasures of sin freely; Others, who have enlarged their Barns and storehouses carefully; others, who have ruffled in their honours highly: and could deliver a Word of Command bravely: and now behold how all these being arrested at Death's suit, were enforced to veil to his surly command! They have made their Beds in the dark. They have left their Houses unto others; they are gone unto their Graves, and must not return again. Their substance they have left unto others: and strangers are become their Heirs. They are rooted out from the face of the earth: and now they consider the vanity of their desires: how they who lay land to land while they were here, find now what a small scantling has sufficed them in this their return to their last home. Poor shell of corruption, what dost thou think of these things? I know well, that great revenues, swelling honours, smiling pleasures are dangerous, and fearful eyesores to a dying man. He looks back upon his Honours, and asks of them, if they cannot relieve him: but like false hearted Retainers, they fly from him, and present their service to another: so quickly have they forgot their dying Master. He looks back then upon his Revenues, those household Gods of his, his inchisted treasures, and asks of them, if they cannot redeem them: But alas, they have no such power: these reserve themselves for his prodigal Successor, or succeeding Rioter: they were so poorly used and employed by him, as they have quickly forgot their dying Master. At last he looks back upon his pleasures, unhappy pleasures, which now torment him more than ever they did delight him; and he asks them, if they can allay his pain, or any way secure him: but alas, they soon leave him, for they find nothing in him nor about him that may entertain them. An easy farewell then have these taken of their dying Master. But thou, poor Pilgrim, hast no honours to transport thee; no fortunes to detain thee; no pleasures to ensnare thee? For the first, the countenance of greatness never shone upon thee; for the second, worldly wealth could never yet so burden thee: and for the last, though thy youth might affect them, the infirmities of age have now estranged them from thee. And yet the voice of death is more terrible to thee then the noise of a Canon. No note more doleful; no summons more fearful. And in this thou art not much to be blamed: for Death is fearful to all flesh. But so to plaint thine hopes on Earth; as if thou mightst never go from earth; nor return to earth; albeit, thou canst find nothing on earth worthy to entertain thee, is the unhappiest condition that may befall thee. O think then of that time, even now while thou hast time, when thy soul, poor languishin soul, finding thy eyes shut, thy mouth closed, and all those senses of thy body perished, by which she used to go forth, and be delighted in these outward things whereto she was affected, shall return unto herself: and seeing herself all alone and naked, as one afflicted and affrighted with exceeding horror, shall through despair fail in herself, and fall under herself: O whither wilt thou fly in hope of succour, 
Bern. Med. 2.  to comfort thy poor soul in a time of such danger?  Even to thee will I fly O God of my salvation, for thou wilt not suffer my soul to descend to corruption. Nay, such is thy loving kindness, as thou wilt make my bed in my sickness. And because nothing is more certain than death; nothing more uncertain than the hour of Death; prepare me continually against the hour of Death And that Death may appear less fearful unto me, send thy Holy Spirit to comfort me; that being inwardly armed by thee against the assaults of Death, and fury of my Ghostly Enemy, I may fight a good fight, and cry, O Death where is thy sting! O Hell where is thy victory!  

CHAP. 67. judgement.  
Woe is me, I tremble to think of it, and yet I cannot think how to avoid it! judged I must be, and who will speak for me? A fearful witness I have within me, to accuse me: sins of omission, sins of Commission to impeach me, sins of ignorance, sins of knowledge, sins of malice to convict me, though, one were sufficient to condemn me. But thou wilt ask me, of what art thou to be brought to account? for what art thou to be brought to judgement? Even for all thy thoughts, words and works. 
Eccles. 12.12.  For God will bring every work into judgement, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil. And that it may appear that thou shalt be accountable for all these; first, touching thy thoughts: Of these thou shalt be judged; for froward thoughts separate from God. 
Sap. 1.  
Rom. 2.  And he shall judge the secrets of men. With their conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts! the mean while accusing, 
Ib. 5.15.  or else excusing one another. Secondly, thou shalt give account of all thy words. Of every idle word that men shall speak, 
Mat. 12.  they shall give account in the day of judgement. Thirdly, thou shalt be accountable for all thy works. For we must all appear before the judgement seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in his body, 
2 Cor. 5.  according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.  
O my poor afflicted Soul, canst thou hear these things, and not melt thyself into tears? seeing, that not only in the bed of thy sickness, by a secret divine power all those works which thou hast done; be they good or evil, shall appear before thee, and be presented to thee; but in that fearful day of Account, when all flesh shall come to judgement: all these in Capital Letters shall appear written before thee. Not one privy bosom sin, were it never so closely committed, or subtly covered, or cunningly carried, but must be there discovered. Adam shall be brought from his bushes, and Sarah from behind the door, and man, miserably perplexed man, shall say to his conscience, as Ahab said to Elias, Hast thou found me, O mine Enemy! O what numberless numbers of Bills of Indictment shall be then and there preferred against thee? And of all these to be found guilty; O how art thou fall'n into the gall of bitterness, and all misery! For what can the thoughts and Imaginations of thine heart say for themselves, but that they have been evil continually? what can the words of thy mouth say for themselves, but that they have been full of all filthiness and scurrility? Lastly, what can the works of thine hands say for themselves, but that they have been loaden with transgressions and iniquity? But perchance, thou hast some hope of a pardon, and so like some of our deluded Delinquents here on earth, by flattering thyself with a vain hope of life, estrangest thy thoughts from thinking of a better life. But do not so deceive thyself; for if it be not by faithful repentance sought for here, there is no hope for any pardon there to be procured; nor for any Appeal to be there admitted; nor for one minutes Reprove to be there granted; nor for that heavy sentence of Death to be one moment adjourned. That sentence of eternal Death. Depart from me; this shall be the sentence: To lose whose countenance, and to Depart from his presence is to bring thy soul into endless torments, eternal anguish.  O my God, thou who hast appointed a time for every man to die, and after that to come to judgement; make me to remember mine end; that fitting myself for it, I may cheerfully encounter it, and so prepare myself for that judgement which shall come after it. O make me walk in thy light, now while I have light to walk in; and to work out my salvation now while I have time to work in. For time will come, unless we walk here as Children of light) when we shall have neither light to walk in, nor time to work in. O inflame mine heart with thy love: and teach me thy judgements, and my soul shall live.  

CHAP. 68 Hell.  
Hear how the damned say; while they were here on earth they lived better than thou, and yet they are damned! And so they tax God's mercy and indulgence towards thee of injustice and partiality. Such is those damned soul's charity. Mean time, thou livest securely, feedest deliciously, and puttest the thought of the evil day from thee by walking foolishly in the ways of vanity. Little desire then mayst thou have, O thou sinful Pilgrim, to see death; having so little hope of life after Death. O, had some of those damned ones, who are now lost for ever, received those many sweet visits, motions and free offers of his grace; those opportunities of doing good; those many means of eschuing evil; no doubt but they would have been as ready to entertain them, as thou hast been to reject them. O think with thyself, how happy had that rich Glutton been, if he had rewarded poor Lazarus with some few crumbs from his Table! O had it not been far better for him, to have given to the poor all that ever he had; to have stripped himself to his shirt: and to have made exchange of his purple raiments with rags of poverty, then to fry in hel-fire eternally? O how happy had that rich man in the Gospel been, if in stead of enlarging his Barns, he had enlarged his Bowels to the poor! Little knew he how soon his soul should be taken from him; when he addressed his care for so needless a provision. His thoughts were so taken up with enlarging his Barns; as he never thought, How Tophet was ordained of old; how it was made deep and large; the pile thereof fire and much wood, 
Esay 30.33.  and how the breath of the Lord like a stream of brimstone, doth kindle it. Tophet was large enough, though his Barns were not.  
But turn unto thyself; for whom canst thou find in more danger of falling into that place of horror, than thyself? How hast thou bestowed thy time? how hast thou employed thy Talon? O hast thou not put it up in a napkin; or done worse by employing it to some worse end? have not many been damned for less than thou hast committed: and did it repent thee of what thou hadst done, that so thou mightst not be condemned? O no; many a wretched soul lies there tormented for less offences than ever thou acted; and hast thou yet turned to the Lord, that thou mayst be pardoned? It is written, in what hour soever the Righteous committeth iniquity, 
Ezek. 42,  his righteousness shall not be had in remembrance. Now, if the righteousness of him shall be forgotten by committing iniquity, who leaveth what he once loved, relinquisheth what he once professed; what may we think of the repentance of that sinner, 
Aug. Soliloq. c. 29.  who returns again to that whereof he repent? O how many have ascended even up to heaven, and amongst the stars have built their nests: and yet have suddenly fall'n from that glory, by glorying in their own strength, and so drenched themselves in endless misery? And whence came all this, but because they ascended unto that Mountain, to which the first Angel ascended, and as a Devil descended? And canst thou excuse thyself of being one of these? Hast thou not sometimes shown to the world great arguments of piety? Hast thou not been sometimes like the King's Daughters, all glorious without: but how soon becamest thou stripped of this glory? Thou fell from that seeming sanctity, or holy hypocrisy into open profaneness and impiety. Woe is me, what shall become of me! The wages of sin is death; a death that never dieth, but liveth eternally. Where nothing shall be heard but weeping and wailing, groaning and howling, sorrowing and gnashing of teeth. O how grievous then shall be mine anguish! how endless my sorrow and sadness! when I shall be set apart from the society of the just; deprived of the sight of God; delivered up unto the power of the Devils, and to go along with them into eternal fire: where I am to remain without end in grieving and groaning! when I shall be banished from that blessed Country of Paradise, to be tormented in Hell perpetually: where I must never see so much as one small beameling of light, nor the least drop of refreshment: but be tormented in Hell for thousand-thousand years: and so tormented, as never to be thence delivered: 
Bern. Med  where neither the tormentors become wearied; nor they die who are tormented.  O my dear Lord, look upon the price of thine own blood. Thou hast bought me for a great price: O deliver thy Darling from the Dags: remember her in mercy whom thou hast bought, O let her not go down into the Pit: neither let the Depth swallow her up. For who shall praise thee in the Depth? O my good God, though the terrors of Death, and torments of Hell encompass me, yet art thou my Succour, and wilt deliver me: and my soul shall live to praise thee.  

CHAP. 69. Heaven.  
O How should I look up unto thee, that have so provoked thee? O thou Mansion of the Saints; thou portion of the just; thou City of the great King; thou heavenly and most happy kingdom; where thy blessed Inhabitants are ever living & never dying; where thy glorious state is ever flourishing and never declining. I must confess to my great grief and shame, that I have no interest in thee. I have lost thee, unhappily lost thee, in losing myself, in losing my soul by selling it to vanity. I sometimes resolved to play the part of a wise Merchant, and to sell all I had for the purchase of one pearl. But I held the purchase too dear, and therefore have I deservingly lost it. Foolish Pilgrim, couldst thou find any thing more fitting to entertain thy best thoughts, or bestow thy care, than the salvation of thy soul? Didst thou think it so easy a task to get Heaven, as to purchase it by making thine Heaven on earth; yet hadst thou but taken half so much pains to get heaven, as thou hast done to get Hell: thou mightst have challenged more interest to Heaven, than now thou canst. Many summer days & long winter nights have thy follies taken thee up: and these seemed short unto thee, because thou tookst delight in those pleasures of vanity: But to bestow one short hour upon devotion; O how many distractions did that suffer; and how long and tedious seemed that hour, because that task was wearisome to thee, and thy mind was elsewhere wand'ring, and would not stay with thee: and canst thou now think that so rich a kingdom would keep itself for thee; when thou wouldst neither knock that it might be opened to thee; nor seek that it might be found of thee? Health, thou knowst well, cometh not from the clouds without seeking, nor wealth from the clods without digging. And yet Heaven must be got without knocking or seeking. But great prizes are not to be so purchased. For as Heaven's Gate is straight, and few there be that enter; so are our tribulations to be many; that we may be of that few that shall enter. But I hear thee now cry out, as one that had some sense of his sin, and of the loss he has incurred by sin. Woe is me! I cannot look upon this Earth, I tread on without blushing; nor can I think upon Death without sorrowing; nor the day judgement without trembling; nor of Hell without shaking; nor of the joys of Heaven without astonishing. For Earth, I loved it so well, (and well might I blush at myself for for bestowing my love so ill) as the remembrance of Death became sorrowful. For by it I understood how I was to be brought to judgement, of all others most fearful; and from thence as having nothing to answer in mine own defence, I was to be haled to Hell a place dismal and doleful. And consequently to forfeit all my title and interest in Heaven, which could not choose but astonish me, being a place so joyful. This I like well in thee: for this knowledge of thine infirmity, may bring thee to look for remedy: and by degrees to find recovery. join then with me; and offer up thy prayer to the Throne of grace, that He in his mercy would look upon thee.  Gracious God, though I be altogether unworthy to lift up mine eyes unto heaven, or to offer up my prayers unto thee, much less to be heard by thee: yet for his merits and mercy's sake, who sitteth at thy right hand, and maketh intercession for me, reserve a place in thine heavenly Kingdom for me. Dear Lord, in thine House are many Mansions; O bring me thither, that I may join my voice with those voices of the Angels, and sing praises to thee, who sittest in the highest Heavens for ever.  

CHAP. 70. With the Remembrance of these, He becomes afflicted in Spirit.  
O But yet I find my soul like dry ground, where no water is! wheresoever I turn me, I find affliction and misery, on all sides encompassing me. O what shall I do; where shall I fly to? For behold, while I take myself aside from the world, into some withdrawing room, purposely to forget the world, and prepare myself for the joys of a better life: while, I say, I begin to commune with my own thoughts in the secret Chamber of mine heart; I become so affrighted with the representment of those four last Remembrances, as I wholly forget what I intended to speak: my tongue begins to cleave to the roof of my mouth; my spatle is dried within me; those active faculties of my soul leave me: and mine understanding departeth from me. O Death, Death! How bitter is the remembrance of thee? O how me thinks, thou summons me; and like a surly Guest, breakest in upon me; nay, uninvited, resolvest to lodge with me! And presently I feel myself wounded; and so mortally as not to be cured. O how my divine eyesight now darkneth; my painting breast beateth; my hoarse throat rutleth; how my teeth by little and little grow black, and draw to them a kind of rust; how my countenance grows pale, 
Dam. de Hora mort.  and all my members stiff; how every sense and faculty fails: how my wasted body threateneth a speedy dissolution! yet desires my poor soul to be a Guest, still though there be cold comfort to be found in such a forlorn Inn! but what are all these terrors of Death to that fearful day of judgement, when at the sound of the Trump all flesh shall rise! where none may be exempted, but all judged! O me! Death is nothing unto this. For what comparison betwixt a Death temporal and eternal? And such shall be the sentence of every Reprobate, amongst which I the chief. O how terrible will that great judge appear to such as in this life would neither be alured by his promises, nor awakened with his judgements? O how dolefully will that voice sound in their ear. Depart from me, I know you not! And how ready will that officious jailor be upon the delivery of this heavy sentence, to hale them to utter darkness; a place of endless torments: where the cursings and howl of Fiends and Furies shall entertain their melodious care; ugly and hideous sights shall entertain their lascivious eye; loathsome stenches their delicious smell; sulphur and brimstone their luscious taste; graspings and embrace of snakes, their amorous touch; Anguish and horror every sense! where those miserable damned souls shall be tormented, both in their flesh and spirit. In their flesh by fire ever burning and never decaying: and in their spirit by the worm of Conscience ever gnawing and never dying! 
Bern. Med. 3.  where there shall be grief intolerable, fear horrible, filth incomparable; death both of soul and body, without hope of pardon or mercy.  
And now to close with the last; the loss whereof exceeds our sufferings in all the rest. O to consider how I, unhappy I, have not only got Hell, the Lake of horror and misery: but lost Heaven, the place of endless joy and felicity: O what heart can consider it, and not resolve itself into a Sea of tears, in contemplation of it? For what may the wretched soul think, when she lifteth up the beams of her mind, and beholdeth the glory of those immortal riches; and withal considereth, how she has lost all those for the poverty of this life; O how can she be less then confounded with anguish; how can she do less then roar forth in the affliction of her Spirit? Again, when she shall cast her eyes below her, and take a full view of the vale of this world, and perceive how it was but as a mist, and presently looking above her, admires the beauty of that eternal light, she presently concludeth, that it was nothing else but night and darkness which she here loved. O how she fainteth, faltereth and fruitlessly desireth, that she might but have some small remainder of time allotted her; what a sharp course; what a severe manner of conversation would she take upon her? what and how great promises would be made by her? with what strict bonds of devotion would she seemingly tie her? But this must not be granted her; as she had her full of pleasures here, so must she now be tormented for ever. O how my Spirit with the remembrance of these becomes afflicted! O who will heal me, for I am wounded.  O my gracious and dear Lord out of thy boundless compassion, 
Psal. 39.12.  look upon my grievous affliction. Keep not silence at my tears, for I am a stranger with thee and a so journer as all my Fathers. I have none to fly unto but thee; and so highly have I provoked thee; that unless thou take pity on me, and receive me for his blood, which was shed for me, I am lost eternally. O my good Shepherd, call me, thy lost sheep, home; for lost I am, unless thou call me: lost for ever, unless thou save me.  

CHAP. 71. Faith appears unto him with a cheerful presence; affording him comfort in his affliction.  
BEing thus afflicted inwardly and outwardly, Faith appeared to me; but alas, so much was I dejected, that although I might have been moved to admiration with her goodly presence: and encouraged with her affable countenance: I stood still perplexed, being so far from comfort as I scarcely expected it. Which Faith well perceiving, she drew near me, and pulling me to her, with a presence, no less graceful than cheerful; thus encountered me.  
How now Pilgrim, have you seen so many days, and those so full of misery; and and can you find aught here where you have lived so long, and found so small comfort, that may deserve your tears? Is the world, this empty Sponge, grown so near to your heart; as it has power to draw tears from your eyes? Tell me the ground of your grief! Do you sorrow because Old-age comes upon you, and you can live no longer: or if you should live, you cannot enjoy that fullness of youthful pleasure which you formerly tasted? or are you unwilling to forgo your possessions; to take a long leave of your friends; or to be stripped of those goodly honours, which you here enjoyed? No, I hope you are wiser than to become so foolish a Mourner. What is it then that has thus violently wrought upon your reason: and brought your disordered thoughts unto this distraction? Surely, it must be of some importance that has brought you into this disconsolate anguish. But this I perceive to be a distemper of your mind: and it shall be our principal care; upon discovery of your wound, to apply a speedy cure. Go to then, disclose your grief freely; and believe her, who hates nothing more than breach of faith, that upon your imparting of it, you shall receive this friendly office from me; either to cure it or allay it. Herewith I became so encouraged, as I made a free discovery of the grounds of my affliction; which she took so well at mine hands, as presently causing me to sit by her, she begun to comfort me in this manner. You have done well in this discovery of your grief. Wounds cannot be cured, before they be opened. Neither do we fear but by ministering some fitting prescriptions, our endeavours will bring forth that good effect, as you shall find great ease in your afflictions. You tell me, how the Remembrance of your end is very terrible to you: not so much in regard of your fear of Death: as of that fearful day of judgement after Death. For you find in yourself such an infinite and unsupportable weight of grievous sins pressing down-your soul even to the gates of Hell, as less than grieve you cannot; else were you insensible of the loss of a soul. Trust me, Pilgrim so far am I from sorrowing with you, as I rejoice in your sorrowing: For this sense of your sins brings you to seek for cure: which had they not afflicted you, and and brought you even to the pit-brinke, had been the least of your care. It is well then for you that you are afflicted: for else you might have gloried and fattened yourself in your sins, and so eternally perished. Be then of good comfort: and suffer not cain's desperate conclusion to have any possession in you: For I must tell you, he sinned more in saying, Greater is my sin then can be pardoned; then in murdering his Brother: For as in the one, he lay violent hand on the Image of God; So in the other he detracted from the highest and dearest prerogative belonging to God: for there is no attribute wherewith he is more delighted, then to be styled a God of mercy. We may safely then conclude: That despair is of a more high and heinous nature than any sin. For tell me, has not God himself with his own mouth promised, and is he not both able and willing to perform what he hath promised? That, 
Ezek. 18.  At what time soever a sinner doth repent him of his sin from the bottom of his heart, 
Ezek. 18.  he will put away all his wickedness out of his remembrance Though late repentance then be seldom true, yet true repentance never cometh too late. The good Thief had no sooner repent him of his sin, and confessed Christ, than he was even at the last hour received to mercy: which example, as it admits no such liberty as to encourage any to presume, seeing there was but one: nor to throw down any into despair, seeing there was one. Indeed there is nothing that endangers man's salvation more than by giving way to delay: yet when the sorrowful soul heartily reputes him of what is past, and with a constant religious resolve intends to redeem the time to come; his pious tears, devout prayers, holy resolves will find ready admittance to the Throne of Grace. For as his mercy is above all his Works, so will he show it most on that work which stands in most need of his mercy. This I am sure your long experience not only observed but plenteously tasted, for else have those years of your Pilgrimage been ill bestowed; that he is gracious, merciful, and long suffering. Nay, that it has been evermore the property of this good and careful Shepherd, to call home those that were wand'ring, invite those that were withstanding, expect those that were foreslowing, & to embrace those that were returning. Nay, that it has been ever the condition of this valiant josuah, to exhort you to fight, and so to help you that you might become Conqueror in that fight. In one word, it has been ever his care to behold you when you were in the Battle fight, to encourage you when you were failing, and crown you when you were vanquishing. Come then tell me, are you wearied and so heavy laden, that you must faint by the way, if you be not refreshed? Behold, how he has invited you to come unto him, where you may receive refreshment and comfort from him! Be not then wavering in the Faith, 
1 jam. 3.  but take fast hold of his promises who will not fail you: and rely on his mercies, which in your greatest straits will deliver you. Be faithful then unto the end, and he will give your hearts desire.  
This Lady's exhortation afforded me much comfort in this my affliction; but much more when I knew who she was: for I had heard much of her, though I was never till then well acquainted with her. For so soon as I heard her name, I began to be very confident, that whatsoever she spoke came from good ground. Nay, I understood how no action, were it never so good in its own nature, could subsist or become really good without her. How she was the groundwork of all virtues; the pure Fountain and firm foundation of all divine graces. How no fruits were they never so pleasant to the eye, nor savoury to the taste, but they were Sodoms apples, unless they received growth and ripeness from her. How every faithful soul lived by her: 
Hab. 2.4.  how every one became justified by her: 
Rom. 3.28  good reason than had I to rely on her, and to derive comfort from her.  
Having in this manner with her sweet instructions refreshed me, promising me with all, that even in mine Agonies of death she would be near me, if now in these few but evil days of my Pilgrimage, she were not discarded by me: which I vowed never to do so long as there was breath in my body; she suddenly vanished from me; which did not a little perplex me: for never took poor afflicted soul more joy in any one's company.  
Mat. 14.31.  O my dear and benign jesus, how justly mightst thou have reproved me, 
Luke 17.6. v. 5. Luke 22.32. Act. 5.9. Rom. 3.28. c 5.2.  with— O thou of little faith! O it is but a little one; the least seed in the Garden; O increase this my faith! O pray to thy Father that my faith fail not! So shall my heart be purified by faith. So shall I become justified by faith. So shall I have access to thee by faith: and hereafter live with thee and thy faithful ones in the inheritance of the just.  

CHAP. 72. Hope seconds that comfort.  
Who is he that knoweth not how soon Faith begins to decline and grow out of request in the heart of a worldling? This I found true by mine own experience: for albeit, that comfortable assurance of Faith might seem to have removed from me all occasions of fear: and had so well strengthened me, as those infirmities whereof I formerly laboured, were to the outward eye wholly cured in me: yet remained there still some core at mine heart. I found it was not so well with me as it should be. Me thought day and night that terrible voice of Behold the man and his works! ever founded in mine ear. For I considered, how as God was merciful, so he was just. Neither did it stand with God's justice, to pronounce any other sentence upon me then as my sins deserved. What then could I expect, but to be thrown down into that bottomless pit, where nothing but woe, woe in every place resounded: horror and confusion dwelled? Thus fared it with me, as with one newly recovered out of some dangerous sickness, and after his recovery, by reason of some distemper makes relapse into his former malady. But I found, how when man's help faileth, Gods beginneth: And that man's extremity was God's opportunity. So gracious is the Lord to those that fear him: yea, to all such as with an humble and contrite heart return unto him. For behold how light appeared out of darkness! One day as I stood thus perplexed, weary of life, yet fearful to die, there appeared, me thought, before me a woman of a beautiful and cheerful countenance; bearing an Anchor upon her shoulder: who drawing towards me, presently demanded of me how it was with me? But as one desirous to have none to share with me in the burden of my affliction: nor to partake of any comfort, so strangely had my folly given way to temptation: as I turned uncivilly my face from her: but of so sweet and well-composed a spirit seemed this Lady, as all this nothing amated her: and the better to bring me to a feeling of mine own infirmity, addressed her discourse in this manner unto me.  
Go to sir! you must not have your own will in this sort: A froward Patient requires a rough hand, and a resolute heart. But I will show myself more courteous to you. I am not ignorant of of your disease; and much relies your malady on my cure. Doubt nothing of your recovery, so you will but ingenuously discover your infirmity. Neither am I altogether unacquainted with my sister Faiths late visit of you: whose sound cordial comforts might have wrought such effect in you, as you should have less needed any other receipts, had you discreetly applied what was so seasonably, and sovereignly ministered. But before I begin with you; let me so far prevail with you, as to remove from your too much dejected and depressed spirit, all those unbeseeming thoughts which perplex your quiet: Be not such an enemy to yourself, as to reject that, which may rectify your state: And of sick; may make you whole: and of a faint-hearted soldier, a courageous Warrior. And now to prepare you the better for this spiritual encounter: my first Assay must be, to remove those scales from your eyes, which by long continuance, are grown so thick, as they keep you from knowing us.  
This said, she infused a small quantity of a precious kind of liquor into my dusky and dreary eyes: which infused, those very scales, which formerly troubled my sight, became removed: so as, I perceived who it was that ministered unto me: and by little and little became so strengthened, as I was confident of revovery. Having found me in this sort a little cheered; as one desirous to perfect what she had begun: to make me more hopeful of her cure, she acquainted me with the quality of her power.  
How now, said she, I cannot be persuaded but you must now of necessity know me? Though I have been long time a stranger to you; let us now renew our acquaintance; believe it, it shall not repent you: for I never yet lodged in that Inn, which held me not a welcome Guest. Many before this time had untimely perished, had they not by me been seasonably supported. By land and water have I offered myself a friendly companion: and firmly stuck I to them who relied on me, in time of greatest danger or opposition. And when no semblance of delivery appeared: no hope of liberty approached: We with this Anchor brought them to the haven safely: planting them so securely, as no peril could interpose their security.  
And now tell me, is our strength so weakened, as we cannot perform what we formerly so happily effected: No, we are the same; so we find the same Spirit in those to whom we apply our cure; which to accomplish shall be our principal care. Take then for an Helmet, 
1 Thes. 5.8 Tit. 2.13. Psal. 16.9.31.24. Prov, 13.12.14.32. Rom. 5.5. Rom. 12.12.15.13.8.24.  the hope of salvation: Look for the blessed hope. Let thy flesh rest in hope. Be ye of good courage— all ye that hope. For I must tell you, hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but the righteous hath hope in his death. For so well and surely is her foundation grounded, as hope maketh not ashamed. Rejoice then in hope: be patient in tribulation. So shall the God of hope fill you with all joy. To which fullness I recommend you.  
This said, she retired, but my Hope became much strengthened. For having sometimes heard, how Hope that is seen, is not Hope: Though I did not see her, yet was I comforted by her: for her sweet and comfortable advice had so cheered me; as with that pattern of patience, (and that with great vehemence) I cried forth in this manner; through the hope and assurance which I had in my dear Saviour: I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that with these eyes I shall see him.  
And now I begun to wonder at mine own weakness; how I could so much as have the least distrust or diffidence in God's goodness: how I could suffer my spirit to be so uncomfortably drenched and drowned in the depth of misery: having so free access to the Throne of mercy. Again, how in this surging Sea of affliction; where every worldly wave threateneth ruin: I durst presume to play the Mariner, and sail without mine Anchor. Finding then so sovereign a cure for my care: Such sweet solace to mine anguish: so present a reprove against death: so fit a receipt to my grief, I thought good to return to the Lord with my whole heart; returning thanks unto him from whom cometh my help, and on whose gracious compassion have I grounded mine hope. My morning and evening Incense have I therefore resolved to offer: that in an acceptable time he would be pleased to receive my prayer: teaching me how to suffer, and by suffering to conquer: and conquering, to render to the Lord of Hosts all honour.  O my merciful Lord God, who bindest up the wounds of every contrite and truly penitent Sinner: suffering him not to be tempted more than he can bear: but of the abundance of thy compassion, givest him an issue out of his temptation: Make me ever with a religious fear so to put my trust in thy mercy: as I may never be swallowed up of my misery. And seeing, we are saved by hope: give unto me such a saving hope; 
Rom. 8.24.  as neither too much confidence may make me presume: nor the too perplexing consideration of my many sins bring me to a despair of pardon. Be near me, dear Lord, in the hour of my visitation: let the enemy have no power over me: but so shadow me under the wings of thy mercy; that the remembrance of thy judgements may rouse me sleeping; the memory of thy mercies raise me waking; to render praise unto thee, as my hope is in thee, my help from thee, O Lord everlasting.  

CHAP. 73. Charity promiseth him in this veil of misery, to cover all his scarlet sins with the white robe of mercy; and by keeping her company, conduct him safely to the kingdom of glory.  
But our daily experience confirms this to be so true, as nothing can be truer: A Worldlings mind is apt to be transported with the light gailes of presumption: then to be over-poized with any weights of a contrary nature. Man becomes so apprehensive of the sweet promises of comfort, as he not only forgets his former unhappy condition, but even himself. So subject is he to surfeit of that, which was only given him to allay his discontent: and to retain in him a thankfulness to him from whose bounty he received that benefit. This it seems, charity feared much would befall me: So as one day with a comely, affable and graceful presence, me thought, she appeared unto me: not so much to increase my comfort, as to prepare my mind rightly to use it. For she found me subject to no such disconsolate humour, but refreshed with joy above measure; which to attemper, she begun to impart her mind unto me after this manner.  
It joys me much, good Pilgrim, to see you thus brought from death to life. But it were well for you so to moderate these comforts which you have received: as not to lose yourself, lest you might deprive yourself of the benefit of this comfort. You may do well then herein to imitate the Fly, which putteth not her feet into the great Mass of honey, but only taketh with her tongue so much thereof as serveth her turn and no more, lest by doing otherwise, she might remain taken and drowned therein. Too much honey cloyeth: and too much of comfort drowneth. Moderate than these, as you tender your inward peace. Time has been when the very lest beameling of these comforts which now so plentuously reflect on you, would have infinitely refreshed you: for your spirit was wounded within you: present delights and future hopes had wholly estranged themselves from you. Stand then in fear, lest by abuse of these, some worse thing befall you. Many, by being unhappy have become happy: but very few have attained true happiness, by being in this world ever happy. Now then, as my sister Faith has in these spiritual comforts grounded you: And my younger sister Hope has in these confirmed you: So shall it be my care, who am their poor contemptible sister, to prepare you for them, as they have prepared them for you: that such choice receipts may be applied to that end for which they were ministered: and your comforts such, as the issue of them may not be repent.  
After this discourse of hers, I desired much to know her name: for being, as she professed, sister to those two Ladies, from whose advice I had received so great comfort: I wondered much at her Habit: for though her presence were comely, her countenance lovely, her behaviour sweetened with a well-beseeming modesty; yet her apparel was but mean. Which she observing, with a quick delivery and composed gravity, she thus answered me.  
You must not gather by my Habit what I am. For I wear the world's livery; such as she is pleased to bestow upon me; with no less content, than she throws it on me with contempt. For many years together have I been the Rich-man's Almoner: yet never to this hour did I increase my store: for all the service I did him, I required no other wages of him, but to take his poor Handmaids counsel, which was: To make himself happy with his own. But alas, I found Simonides saying too true! The virtuous did more frequent the doors of the rich, then then the rich of the virtuous. The poor were virtuous, and repaired to the doors of the rich: but the rich were vicious, and would not open their doors to the poor. I observed how virtue was accounted such a treasure, as 'twas held more fitting to be out of the world then in it: whereas riches held that reputation amongst men: as men were held of no reputation without it. But you desire to know my name; and you shall have it: but I pray you do not imitate the fashion of this present world, by loving one worse when you hear it. Neither am I a fitting Consort for you, unless my two Sisters have wrought some good effect on you. For charity is cold; and such Companions are not easily entertained: nor such Guests kindly received; where the one bids us give that we may receive: the other bids us give all that we have: and when all that we have is given, to expect our reward in heaven. But this sowing of bread upon the water, is of too hard digestion to a foolish worldling: and yet it must be sown upon the water, or your harvest is lost for ever. Let me then second, what my dear Sisters have proposed: as your discomforts were by them not only allayed; but with assurance in God's promises confirmed: So hear what charity, the Worldlings outcast, will do unto you; to make you perfect throughout for Him who will receive you. I have never yet been known to be more ready to promise then perform. Yet shall the promise which I make unto you, be of infinite consequence: for it shall make you eternally happy in the performance. You are here planted in a veil of misery, where I promise to cover all your scarlet sins with the white robe of mercy. Nay, I will yet go a little farther to confer on your peaceful progress the higher honour: If you will deagne to leave the world, and receive me who am despised of the world: If you will, I say, leave her society, and bid adieu to her blooms of vanity: by keeping me company, I shall conduct you safely to the Kingdom of glory.  
Nor, let it be the least of your fear, that I promise above my power. For as my sisters imparted their love unto you, in cheering, comforting, and confirming you: So shall you find no less alacrity in me, in perfecting what they have so happily begun in you. For I must tell you, (neither would I have you think that this proceedeth from any vain glory, being that which could never challenge the least affinity with true charity) that though my sisters may seem to have priority in list and number, yet am I to challenge precedency in respect of dignity and order. This that vessel of Election confirmed when he said: Now abideth faith, hope, 
1 Cor. 53.13.  charity, these three, but the greatest of these is charity. Neither shall you need to receive any other description for the portraiture of my feature, or quality of my nature, than what that glorious Champion hath already returned to you. For tell me, have you desire to be informed in what most concerns you; to be edified in what most imports you? It is not knowledge but charity that must work this good effect in you. For, knowledge puffes up, 
1 Cor. 8.1.  but charity edifieth. Or would you be persuasive in Oratory; or powerful in prophecy; or an useful Almoner for your soul's safety? you must necessarily be accompanied by Charity; 
v. 1.  or you are but as sounding brass, or a tinkling Cymbal. Your power to remove mountains shall not remove in you the least Molehill of your sin. Your bestowing all your goods to feed the poor, shall not make your soul rich: these cannot profit you, if charity do not accompany you. Seeing then the tongues of men and angels are but tinkling and very sounds without charity; knowledge becomes fruitless without the edifying help of charity; prophecies, be they never so mysterious; Sciences, be they in their own nature never so commodious, are altogether unprofitable without charity: 
a 1 Cor. 16 14.  Let all your things be done with charity. 
b 14.1.  Follow after charity, 
c Col. 3.14  Above all things put on charity. 
d 1 Pet. 4.8.  Above all things have fervent charity: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins. 
e 2 Pet. 1.7  Add to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, charity. For, the end of the commandment is charity: And now, seeing I have here given you a full draught of charity: by a due examination of yourself, you shall easily find whether she be in your heart or no: For by these divine effects you shall find her to be yours, and she possessed of yours 
f 1 Cor. 13.4. : charity suffreth long & is kind, envies not: charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up. You shall likewise know even by your outward behaviour, whether or no you have received charity, or given her harbour: for Charity 
g v. 5.  doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil. You shall perceive likewise by the very joy of your heart, whether charity have taken up there her lodging. For she 
h v. 6.  Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth. Lastly, you shall gather by your constancy, whether or no you hold correspondency with perfect charity: For charity 
i v. 8.  never faileth. Well may I then conclude with that glorious Light of the Eastern Church, where charity is present, no good thing can be absent: where charity is absent, no good thing can be present. Again; 
Aug.  There is not any thing, be it never so little, but being done in charity, it is esteemed for great: And there is nothing be it never so great, but being done without charity, it is accounted little: To close then all in one, seeing Charity is one in all: We see how all sign themselves with the sign of the Cross, 
Ib.  how all answer Amen, all sing Alleluia, all are baptised, all obey the commands of their Mother, the Church: yet are not the children of God discerned from the children of the Devil but by Charity. 
Vide Aug.   
If then you desire to live, learn to love: you are now in your journey towards your Country, keep me but company, and I shall safely conduct you to a City, where there reigneth perfect Charity.  
It is not to be expressed what infinite content I took in the sweet discourse of this divine Consort. For me thought I felt a fervorous heat or glowing within me. So as I desired nothing more than to retain her still in my company. But having told me that she had many places to go to: and that in her absence I might find occasions in every place to remember her: for I could not possibly give the least entertainment to my afflicted Brother, but I might become her Remembrancer: which I should not fear to see plenteously rewarded hereafter: with a longing eye after her, I took my leave of her. Desiring no greater solace, then to bestow the small remainder of my time in her service: and resolving in all humble manner, ever from that time to become her faithful Almoner.  Dear Father, thou who art perfect Charity; purify my heart throughout, that I may prepare a room therein fitting to entertain thee. Though Charity grow cold in the world, let my desires become so wained from this present world, that my Charity may witness for me, that I am preparing for an other world. Give me a liberal heart; that freely communicating to the necessity of thy Saints, and constantly relying on thy promises, through a firm Faith and Hope reposed in thee, I may at last come unto thee; and of a poor Pilgrim become an happy Citizen in thy Kingdom; there to sing Alleluia amongst those glorious Saints for ever more.  

CHAP. 74. He takes comfort; And now wearied with sojourning longer in Idumaea, he turns to Canaan.  
SO ineffably sweet were these comforts which I tasted; and so plenteously flowing were those Fountains from whence they were derived; as I gathered thence, if there were such comforts in the day of mourning, what would there be in the day of rejoicing? If such spiritual delights presented themselves in a Prison; what incomparable pleasures might be expected in a Palace? If such joys in the days of our captivity, what may be looked for in that day of jubilee? In the consideration whereof; never did chased Hart long more thirstily after the Water-brookes, than my poor wearied spirit did after her heavenly Bethesda, O how shrilly me thought, did the cries of the Saints under the Altar sound in mine ear? O how long Lord! How long! O how long shall I sojourn in this Pilgrimage of cares; this valley of tears; and become estranged from that Inheritance of lasting joys; the only sight whereof shall make me happy; and from this Wilderness of sin bring me to the Sinah of glory? Woe is me, my Light, my Love, my Dove, my only one, for that I have dwelled with the inhabitants of Cedar! Woe is me, my King and my God, that my habitation is prolonged! For if holy David, David, a man according to Gods own heart, sometimes said, how much more may I unhappy one say, My soul hath been too long an inhabitant? Long, and all too long have I sung, because I was unsensible of my sin, my own country songs by those waters of Babylon. 
Psal. 119.71.  Well therefore may I say, It was good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes. O my Lord, hadst thou never afflicted me; I had never sought to know thee. Hence is it that I know thee, because thou hast afflicted me. 
v 28.  And now my soul melteth for heaviness, not for that thou hast afflicted me: but for that she has been so long divided from thee. I know Lord, I know, how he who never mourned while he was a Pilgrim, shall never rejoice when he comes to be a Citizen. And as to abide for ever, if we would we might not: so rejoice here and hereafter, though we would, we may not. It is a great argument that he loves not his Country; who without occasion foreslows his return into his Country; or takes any delight in any place before he return unto his Country. Alas, I must confess, I have longed too much after the Onions and Garlic, and fleshpots of Egypt: 
With shrieks I entered, and in toil I lived, With griefs gripes, groans, am I of life deprived.  but now with gushing eyes do I return unto thee, O receive me! I have protested (and O strengthen so religious a protest with thy Spirit) never to take any more delight in Idumaea. I have suffered too much in it and by it, to be now any more taken or delighted with it. And now after my loathing of these puddles of vanity, I have longed after those ever-running streams of eternity. O how hath my soul thirsted after thee; how greatly hath my flesh longed for thee? my soul hath thirsted after thee, the living fountain; O when shall I come and appear before the face of the Lord? when wilt thou come, O my Comforter? For whom else shall I expect? O that I might see thee O my joy, which I desire! O then shall my soul be satisfied, when my glory shall appear, for which I so long hungered! O then shall I be made drunk with the fullness of thine house, after which I have sighed! O then wilt thou refresh me with the Brook of thy pleasure, after which I have thirsted! In the mean time, let my tears become my bread day and night, until such time, as it be said unto me; behold thy God until my soul hear, behold thy Spouse! Mean while, thou heavenly Shepherd, feed me with my sighs, refresh me with my sorrows. My Redeemer will doubtlessly come, for he is good: neither will he foreslow his coming, for he is gracious: To him be glory for evermore.  O hasten thy coming for thine Elect sake! Come Lord jesus, come quickly!  

CHAP. 75. The poor penitent Pilgrims last Will and Testament.  
IN the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Ghost. I S. M. A poor penitent Pilgrim, sound in body, and of perfect memory: yet being daily read in the Lecture of man's mortality: how all Flesh is Grass, and the beauty thereof as the Flower of the field; which this day flourisheth, to morrow withereth: and that it is every Christians duty to prepare himself before Death come, lest it find him unprovided at such time as it shall come. Moved, I say, with these considerations, I have here made this my last Will and Testament as followeth.  
First I bequeath my soul into the hands of my gracious Redeemer, by whose most precious blood I was redeemed: and by whose merits and mercies (for my merits are his mercies) I hope to be glorified. And forasmuch as there was no safety out of the Ark; nor no salvation now without the pale of the Church, figured by the Ark: and that the tares from the wheat must be severed: the Sheep and the Goats must not into one Fold be gathered: HERE in the presence of God and his blessed Angels; for the discharge of mine own conscience, and the satisfaction of others, who, perchance, have in their opinions been divided, doubting much how I in points of Religion stood affected; Do I make a free and public confession of my Faith: being that Cement by which we are knit unto her, and made Members of her.  
I believe the holy Catholic Church, to be the Communion of the Faithful, whereof I desire to live and die a Member: for which to suffer I should account it an honour: holding this for a Principle ever; That none can have God for his father, that will not take his Holy Spouse the Church for his Mother. There is no Article in the Apostles Creed which I do not believe for Catholic and Orthodoxal, with the exposition thereof, and every Clause or Particle thereof in such manner, as it hath been universally received by the holy Catholic Church, from the first four hundred years after Christ: and as it holds in consent or harmony with the Holy Scripture, the Christians Armour; by which and the constant practice of piety, every faithful Soldier of Christ jesus may be enabled to pull down those strong Holds of his spiritual enemy: and by possessing his soul in patience, obtain a glorious victory. And as there have been at all times tares in God's field; so is it more to be pitied then doubted, that there are many surreptitious errors crept into the bosom of the Church through the corruption of time, and our enemy's malice: which though they aim not at the Cornerstone, nor at the main foundation, yet being but stubble, & no ways conducing to so glorious a building, they are to be accounted of that quality, as they blemish much her primitive beauty. These then being the fancies of humane brains, and introduced into the Church for private ends; and so continued rather by an imperious then just command, I hold them so far from being effectual to salvation, as they become scandalous to many tender consciences, and consequently deserve rather to be rejected then embraced. But for the Ornamenss of the Church, as she is the King's Daughter, so she should be comely: and for her music or melody; being his Spouse, it admits harmony: for so drowsy is man's zeal and affection, as he stands in great need of something to stir up his devotion. Likewise of those ancient and decent Ceremonies of the Church, being discreetly, and not superstitiously used, I have ever reverently esteemed. Neither am I ignorant how disputation in arguments of controversal learning hath been of late years in more request than care of blameless conversation and living; how indiscreet and impertinent reasoning has in many places brought that woeful effect, as it hath begot many irreparable rents in Christ's seamelesse Coat: thus wounds left to the handling of unexpert hands became so far from curing, as they grew more dangerously spreading, and desperately increasing than they were in the beginning, and before they came to handling. These Deficience are with pious tears and devout prayers to be repaired, that men of learning may be likewise men of living; being endowed with that zeal, as in all their arguments by way of private discourse or more public opposition, their sole aim and desire may be to propagate the Gospel, and in it the glory of God, with all singleness of mind, and that without singularity of judgement; being so free from all manner of ostentation, or the spirit of contradiction, as they may shun nothing more than popular applause, nor hold any thing more dear than the Church's peace. So as, to compose this breach, I never held those in points of Religion to be fitting Disputants, who made it their only aim in a scholastical manner to wove up their Arguments: but such moderate spirits, whose desires were rather to clear men's consciences from inbred scruples, then broach new differences.  
With all due reverence I esteem of those two Sacraments; Baptism and the Supper of the Lord, as those two nursing breasts of the Church: the one to cleanse and purify us at our entering: the other to strengthen and sanctify us living: and to glorify our souls at their departing. As with mine heart I believe unto righteousness, so with my Mouth do I confess unto salvation. Neither, do I profess myself such a Soli-fidian, as to hold Faith sufficient to salvation without Works. Neither such a Champion for good works, as to hold works effectual without Faith. As Faith is the root, so are works the fruit. Nay, I hold these to have such necessary dependence one of th' other, as they are ever to go hand in hand together: Otherwise that fearful curse which our blessed Saviour sometimes pronounced upon the barren Figtree, must be their censure. And now in this day of my Change, as in this confidence I have ever lived, so my trust is that in the same I shall die: That in the Resurrection of my Saviour Christ jesus is my hope: and in his Ascension is my glory. For, I believe that my Redeemer liveth, and that with these eyes I shall see him.  
Thus have I rendered an account of my faith; the substance whereof as I have ever professed in my life: so I hope with all Christian constancy to continue the profession thereof even unto death. So as, though the assaults or temptations of the Devil, my spiritual enemy, whose practice hath been ever by cruelty or subtlety to deprive man of his hope of glory, should with all fury assail me, yet shall they never have power to prevail against me; for the Lord, who is my defence, will in mercy draw near me, and in that dying conflict give me the victory. This than shall be my clozing Resolve, I mean to continue in the profession of that Faith, now when I am old; wherein being a child I was borne. 
Hier. ad Pammach. et Ocean de error. Orig.   
And having thus returned a due account of my Belief; I hold it very fitting not to neglect that laudable use of disposing that estate whereof God in his goodness and providence towards me, made me here his Steward. It were good then for me, that I remembered that message returned by Isaiah the son of Amos to Hezekiah: 
2 Reg. 20.1  Set thine house in order, for thou shalt die, and not live. True it is, when the outward house is orderly disposed, the inward house cannot choose but be better prepared. To remove then from me the cares of this present world, that I may take a more willing adieu of the world before I leave it, and so address my cares for a better world by waning my desires from it: for live he cannot in the Land of the living, who prepares not himself for it before his arriving: my mind and will is, that my worldly substance be disposed of in manner and form following.  
First, then after this vessel of Earth, this poor shell of corruption shall be to earth committed, and as near to the bones of mine Ancestors as the conveniency of the place may permit, interred: and that my Funeral expenses shall be discharged; in the performance of which Christian duty I approve of decency, but in no case too much solemnity; (which has too often drowned the remembrance of mortality in the lees of sensuality) after this, I say, my Will is, that this small estate wherewith God hath blessed me, shall be divided in equal parts or portions amongst my Children: that, as they are all equally mine, so they may be equal sharers in mine: Of whom I will not prophesy that they will dissipate or scatter all I leave them: I have better hopes treasured in them. For the portions I leave them, though small yet competent, if they be contented: and more than I could wish them, if otherwise affected. A very little will suffice nature; enough I leave them, if well employed: too much if abused. May God's blessing and mine be ever with them in their improvement of it. And that I may crown their hopes, and my hours with one blessing more: Blessed Spirit, by which every Passenger is safely conducted from this vale of misery, to the Kingdom of glory, as these little ones are mine by generation, so may they be thine by regeneration, to whose gracious protection both now and ever I commit them.  
Now I nominate and appoint for Surpervisors of this my last Will and Testament, my dear friends, Agapetus & Eilicrines, if they shall be then living at my death: whom I heartily desire, for the love they bear to goodness; nay, for the love they bear to him, who is the fountain of all goodness, and as I repose much trust in them; to perform this my Will.  
And now me thinks, 
Hieron.  all my worldly cares are drawn near unto their period. Seeing then I am sailing towards mine Harbour; Let me strike Anchor: that taking the wings of the Morning, I may fly to the bosom of my dear Redeemer. Go forth then my Soul, what fearest thou? go forth, why tremblest thou? Thou hast had enough of Idumaea; for what foundst thou there but anguish? Now then turn thy face to the Wall, and think of the Land of Promise. Thou hast but now a little time left thee: the remainder whereof is justly exacted by him that made thee. Sighs, sobs, prayers, and tears are all the treasures that are left thee: and precious treasures shall these be to thee, if presented by faith to the Throne of mercy. The Enemy can never prevail, where Christian fear and constant hope possess the Soul. Let thy Desire then be planted, where thy treasure is placed; and as one ravished with a spiritual fervour, cry out and spare not with that devout Father: 
Hieron.  Should my Mother pull her hair, tear her Clothes, lay forth those Breasts which nursed me, and in this sort hang about me; should my Father lie in the way to stop me, my Wife and Children weep about me; I would throw off my Mother, neglect my Father, contemn the lamentation of my Wife and Children, to meet my Saviour, Christ jesus.  
And less than this, O my soul, thou canst not do; if thou callest to mind what thou leavest; to whom thou goest; and what thou hast in exchange for that thou losest. For what leavest thou here, but a world of misery? To whom goest thou, but to a God of mercy? And what hast thou in exchange but immortal glory, for a vile, frail, and corruptible body? whatsoever thou hadst here, was got with pain, kept with fear, and lost with grief: Whereas now thou art to possess eternal riches without labouring; and to enjoy them without fear of losing. My heart then is ready, my heart is ready; too long have I so journed here, in making me a stranger to my heavenly Country. It is high time for me then to discampe: and to leave these of Kedar: that I may rest without labouring; rejoice without sorrowing; and live without dying in the Celestial Thabor. Say then with that vessel of Election, and think as thou sayest: I desire to be dissolved, and to be with Christ. Even so Lord JESUS, come quickly.  
⁂   
FINIS.   

His Obsequies.  
NOw, as ye have seen this poor penitent Pilgrim in Idumaea wand'ring, and with the Prodigal Child, happily returning, so Christian charity assures you that he is now in Canaan arriving. Being, after so many tedious days and nights of misery, translated hence, by the irrevocable sentence of mortality. Let pious tears and prayers prevail so far with you, that as ye have taken a full view of the whole progress of his life, 
Sitiens Sepulchrum repetit, ossa Sepultorum respicit, suspirans Sepultum deserit; quando autem in domum, fragilitat is humanae Speculum meditando, tenderet, in tabernam descenderet, ubi totam noctem, calicibus indulgendo, expen deret. Chrysol.  so ye would perform a Christian Office in accompanying the solemn accomplishment of his Obsequies after death. Draw near then unto his Sepulchre; and in it consider how ye are made of the very self same Mould and Matter: and must, as he has done, pay your debt to nature. Do not like that unfruitful Spectator or formal Mourner, who coming amongst others to see his Friend buried, and beholding dead men's skulls and bones piecemeal scattered, with an easy sigh thence departed. But when he should have gone home, to think of his last home, by meditating of that Memorial of Death; he betook himself to the Tavern, to drench and drink down those melancholy thoughts in a deep health.  
Oh think from whence ye came, and be ashamed; Where ye are, and be prepared, whereto ye go (if unprepared) and stand amazed! from Earth was your beginning; on Earth is your Pilgrim being; but in Hell (without repentance) your perpetual dwelling.  
Dye then to Earth before ye leave Earth, that leaving Earth, ye may live in heaven, the inheritance of the Just upon Earth.   

His Grave-stone.  

HE whom here this Stone does cover,  
Whilst he lived was no other  
Than a Pilgrim and your Brother,  
But too long the World's Lover.  
Would ye know that course of his?  
In an Abstract, it was this.   

Long in Idumaea living,  
Rich in favour, fortune, fame,  
Strong in power to shield the same,  
Never losing, ever thriving;  
He esteemed himself sole-blest  
In those treasures he possessed.   

Mines and Magazines of gain,  
Various objects of delight  
Sported with his appetite,  
Till those Guests he'd entertain,  
Made him to consider well  
Earth was but the Sinners Cell.   

Pride first raised him to a Cedar,  
Avarice made him hug his treasure,  
Envy pined him beyond measure,  
Wrath became his passion leader,  
Riot crammed him, Lust belulled him,  
Sloth by seizing on him, dulled him.   

Thus environed, reft of rest,  
Solace, Soule-society,  
Till Faith, Hope, and Charity  
Repossessed him of a Guest,  
Which those Guests he pampered so,  
Had before estranged him to.   

Seas thus calmed, & storms appeased,  
To discover his content,  
He makes his Will, and Testament,  
Which if (Christians) ye be pleased  
To partake, come with full eyes  
To solemnize his Obsequies.    

ERRATA. No place but is of Errors rife, In labours, Lectures, Leaves, Lines, life.  
PAg. 22. line. 11. for there, read her. p. 34. l. 20. f. lives, r. hours p. 72 l. 9 for Dames, r. Damns. p. 112. l. ult. r. one to dictate to thee what thou hast, etc. p. 153. l. 21. f. Nay, r. May. p 166. l. 22. f. Couch, r. Touch. Ibid. in marg. f. Humh r. Lumb. p 205 l. 13. f. wails, r. veils. p. 213. l. 9 f. meditation. r. mediation. p. 269. l. 16. for Calidore, r. Calydon. p. 340. for them, r. him. p. 355. l. ● f. when, r. where pag. ib. l. 18. f. Dags, r. Dogs. p. 356. l. 14. for everting in some copies, r. everlasting p. 363 l. 1. f. painting, r. panting. p. 379 mis-folioed.